Jesse had been sitting in this big empty room, just him and a guard called Karofsky, for what felt like forever. Karofsky had told him he was free to leave the palace, but he couldn't because then Rachel would be stuck there with no ride home.

The guard wasn't that bad, Jesse guessed. He was a little gruff. Didn't really talk much. But he didn't tell Jesse not to talk, so Jesse did. He told him all about Rachel selling him out. Karofsky didn't do anything helpful with this knowledge, like let him go and kick her out of the ball instead, but at least Jesse felt a little better after venting about her at some length. Enough length, in fact, that his voice was kind of tired now.

He still didn't feel like just sitting there, though, and Karofsky had confiscated his phone so he couldn't even entertain himself with apps or anything. "So tell me about you," he tried.

"I'm a guard at the palace."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"And that's all you need to know," Karofsky said. He really wished this guy would shut the hell up. Or, better yet, leave.

"Guard, huh? What kind of training do you need for that? Not that I'm interested. I'm about to graduate from the conservatory so obviously I already have lots of career options. There's this showcase coming up, in fact, that—"

"Do you wanna play checkers?" Karofsky asked.

"Oh, um, sure. Okay." Jesse hadn't played checkers since he was a kid. It wasn't the most intellectually challenging game or anything, but this Karofsky guy was just a guard, after all. And maybe if Jesse could throw a game or two without being too obvious about it, it would put the guard in a good enough mood to let him go.

But then...Jesse kept losing without actually trying to.

This kid was the worst checkers player Karofksy had ever seen...and that included little Princess Beth. (But, to be fair, he might be better than Princess Matilda.) He'd only even suggested checkers because the only other game in the detention room was chess, and he was afraid that might go on too long. He saw now that probably wouldn't have been a problem. The kid losing his mind might have been a problem, though, if his reaction to losing game after game of checkers was any indication. When he flung the whole board and all the pieces across the room, Karofsky stood quietly. "You're going to have to pick that up now, sir."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jesse yelled. "How do you even cheat at checkers?"

"Sir, if you don't pick up all these pieces and put them back in the box right now, our interaction is going to become a lot less cordial."

Jesse looked up at the much-bigger-than-him guard who was suddenly looming over him. He started picking up the pieces, because who knew what else the motherfucking cheater might stoop to? "I hope you know," he felt obliged to point out, "that I'm only humoring you so you don't go all Neanderthal and get violent over something as silly as a little game."

Karofsky didn't respond, he just kept watching.

"I mean, I, at least am a civilized person. I wouldn't normally have thrown things, but...I mean, there are only so many provocations even the most civilized of us can endure in one evening."

"Like I told you before, you're free to leave the palace."

"You'd like me to leave my sister stranded here, wouldn't you?"

"This is the same sister who's responsible for you being removed from the ballroom, right?"

"Yeah," Jesse said bitterly. "Yeah! Would she wait around here for me if our roles were reversed?"

"I don't know," Karofsky answered. "Would she?"

"Hell no! You know what? Fuck her! I am going to leave."

Karofsky resisted the urge to cheer. He merely said, "That's your right. I'll provide you with an escort just as soon as you're done cleaning up this mess."

.

Sam covered Blaine's neck with kisses before asking, "How do you feel?"

"God," Blaine sputtered. So good he had no idea how to put it into words. It wasn't like he'd never had an orgasm before, obviously, but he'd never had one before that left him feeling so...so good and weightless and and just happy all over. He wished he could explain it somehow, but all he managed was a weak smile and a breathy, "Sam."

Sam was happy too. He was happy to see Darren looking so content. But he himself was far from being content. He needed so much more Darren.

But he didn't want to push. Darren really did look content right now, and Sam didn't want to take more than he was prepared to give. But he couldn't help but hope...he couldn't help but ask: "Can I keep going? Can I make love to you?"

Darren peered up at him and said, "Of course."

"But only if you want me to," Sam said. "Don't say yes just because I'm a prince or whatever."

"No, not just because you're a prince," Darren told him. "Because you're Sam and you're the most amazing person I've ever met and that was incredible and I don't ever want it to stop and so of course I want you to."

Sam felt a huge grin spread across his face before he leaned down and captured Darren's mouth in a hungry kiss. It was kind of hard to remember all the stuff he'd been telling himself about going slowly and making Darren's first time good for him when he needed him now so badly.

He was reminded, though. He wasn't thinking about Darren's probable extra sensitivity and ground against him hard while kissing him, making the poor guy jolt and hiss. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"It's okay. That was just really intense."

Of course it was. Of course it was too intense. Sam couldn't let himself not think of these things. He quickly hopped up off the bed.

"No, please don't leave!"

"I'll be right back," Sam promised. "I just need to get the oil."

He sprinted into the dressing room and returned as fast as he could, without his clothes but with the jar of coconut oil. The sight of Darren sprawled out on his bed took his breath away. But then Darren sat up and asked, "I'm sorry, did you say oil?"

"Yeah. See, we need a lubricant, or else—"

"No, I know about that," Blaine said. He knew a lot about gay sex, at least a lot of what you could read online about it. Which meant that he also knew that..."But, um, I thought oil made condoms not work?"

"Oh, that!" Sam said. He hardly ever even thought about condoms, since surprisingly few guys ever mentioned them. "No, we don't need condoms."

"But I mean..." The last thing Blaine wanted to do was argue with Prince Samuel. It was just that he'd always told himself that when he had sex with someone, one, it would be for more than just lust, and two, that he would be responsible about it.

"Kurt made me immune to STDs. So unless you can somehow get pregnant..."

"Really?" Blaine asked. "I mean, not that I don't trust you, but..."

"But you don't trust Kurt?"

"Well..." Blaine thought it was best to not answer that out loud.

"How long have you known Kurt?"

"Like a week."

"Oh, wow. You're way smarter than I was. It took me a long time to figure out not to trust him completely. I still trust him too much, probably. But here's the thing. He might mislead you and he might even trick you, but he will never, ever actually lie. And so when he flat-out says something like, 'This will make you immune to STDs,' which he did say to me, you know it's the truth."

Blaine thought about it. He wanted Sam really badly, and he didn't want to screw this up. Also, he really did trust him. Which maybe was influenced by how badly he wanted him, but...But, no, what he'd just said about Kurt actually did fit with what Blaine already knew, so... "Okay."

"Okay?" Sam asked. It seemed like Darren was still uncertain. "No, you know what? Jake or Ryder might have some condoms. Or they could get some. Let me just ask them." He turned toward the door.

"Sam. I said okay and I meant it. I trust you."

.

"So where were you earlier?" Ryder asked. He knew Sue was making the rounds tonight and he'd be in trouble if she found him chatting with Jake, but, well...standing silently in the hall was getting old. This was going on longer than usual, and he really didn't want to think about what His Highness was doing in his dressing room with that guy. That is, he knew what His Highness was doing but...but, well, actually he didn't. It was uncharacteristically quiet, for one thing. But even more importantly, Ryder didn't want to think about how different the prince was with this guy than with all the others. The dancing! The kissing, in front of everyone! Not that many outsiders saw it—Shannon had seen to that, acting on orders from Princess Quinn—but Prince Samuel didn't know about that.

It was bad enough when His Highness was just fucking some guy. But this was...So, it wasn't like Ryder was under any illusions that the prince was going to suddenly going to fall in love with him. But as long as the prince just wasn't the falling-in-love type, it wasn't so bad. That is, it was bad. But this, if it turned out to be what it seemed like, had the potential to become unbearably bad.

"Earlier when?" Jake asked.

"What do you mean when? When I had to call you because you were late for His Highness's entrance!"

"Oh that. I was, um..." He looked up and down the hall. "You can keep this to yourself, right?"

"Of course."

"I was getting blown."

"Damn!" Ryder immediately thought of the little tidbit Jake had shared with him earlier in the day, and he couldn't help but jokingly ask, "By a guy?"

Jake stared straight ahead, silent.

"Holy shit, Jake! Was it..." Ryder was just about to ask if it was Darren when he heard the unmistakable key-jangling of his boss approaching. He shut his mouth and stood still, staring straight ahead.

Sue Sylvester marched toward them, smirking. "I see our lustful prince needed a respite from the party. He's more a fan of the non-dancing kind of balls, isn't he?"

"His Highness is in his dressing room, ma'am," Ryder said.

"Yes, I gathered that. I also gather he's not alone."

"No, ma'am."

"It must be so rewarding being the prince's private booty guards."

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right. Just call if you need any backup. I wish I could think of a way to make that an innuendo."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sue continued on her rounds, muttering to herself. "Backup. Back...up...There's an obvious one there I can't believe I'm missing. Damn, I hate being off my game like this...Booty guards was pretty good, though."

.

Sam wasn't worried about anyone guarding his booty; he was way more into Darren's at the moment. Like, into it...with his tongue. Darren was into it too, if his moaning and writhing was any indication. Sam didn't rim guys very often, but he wanted to be really sure not to hurt Darren. And it was so hot: Darren's ass was amazing, and even more amazing was how crazy the rim job was making him.

But it was also incredibly frustrating, because Darren was so tight that he was taking a long time to stretch. And Sam really had been patient, but now he needed...

It suddenly struck him that what he needed wasn't what he had thought he needed. He didn't need to get his dick inside Darren's ass. He needed Darren's dick inside his. The realization made him groan so loud that Darren asked if he was all right.

Sam peered up and said, "I'm awesome." He licked up over Darren's balls and cock, which—yes!—was rock-hard again. "Change of plans, though. If you don't mind."

Fuck! Blaine knew this was too good to be true. He tried but failed to keep the disappointment out of his voice when he replied, "Of course. I understand."

"You don't have to!" Sam assured him. "I just...I realized I really want you inside me, but if you don't want to we can do whatever you want."

Blaine was speechless. Literally. He just gaped down at the gorgeous prince between his legs.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I shouldn't have assumed that would be okay with you. Forget I said anything." He scooted back down to resume what he'd been doing a minute ago.

"Wait," Blaine said. "You really want that?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "I really, really do." He was sorry he'd brought it up. Or rather, he was sorry the realization had struck him at all. Because now that he was aware of needing it, the prospect of not getting it was agonizing.

"But I've never..."

"I know that. I mean I'm sorry, maybe you didn't want me to know, but Kurt told me you're a virgin. I just really want...I hope you're not worried that you won't be 'good' at it or whatever because I don't care about your 'technique,' I just really want to feel you inside me. Only if you want to, but I mean...I just really, really hope you want to."

"I do," Blaine said. "I really, really do. If you're being serious that you don't care how bad I am at it."

"But there's nothing even to be bad at. You just put it in! And I'll even do the stretching and lubing stuff so—"

"That's okay. I mean, I'd like to do it. If you don't mind."

Sam handed him the jar of coconut oil. "You have to warm it up a little in your hands first." He wasn't sure if Darren needed any instructions beyond that, much less would welcome any, so he didn't offer any. Instead he just rolled onto his back and hugged his knees to his chest.

"Oh my God," Blaine muttered at the sight. In all the explicit fantasies he'd had about Prince Samuel, he'd never even dared to imagine him in this particular position, all vulnerable and open like this. He felt his dick jump at the thought of Sam being open like this for him.

It felt like forever, but finally Darren's warm, oily fingers were on him, tentatively circling his rim. Sam whined piteously. "Too much?" Darren asked him in alarm.

"No, not too much!" Sam assured him. It was the opposite, but he wasn't going to criticize. "You can put them inside any time you want. You won't hurt me." One finger slid in then, and it was still tentative but it was inside, and it felt so good. "Oh God," Sam gasped. "Yeah. Like that. Like that but more."

Blaine applied a little more pressure. Just a little more. He was pretty sure this wasn't Sam's first time, but he was terrified of hurting him. Besides...he was enjoying this so much, seeing Sam move under him like this at the slightest touch. He wanted to be inside him very, very much...but not enough to want to rush through this.

.

Finn was finishing up another dance with another random guest. Each dance was short; Quinn had probably instructed the band to play only very short pieces so Finn could dance with as many different women as possible. The music ended and he bowed to the young woman, who giggled and curtsied. "Thank you, Your Highness! God, I can't wait to tell my mom I got to dance with you!"

"The pleasure was all mine," Finn said, smiling at her. But he soon had to turn his attention away from her to find his next partner.

Or...not. Before he could even look around the room, this short brunette woman was curtsying in front of him and asking, "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"

It was totally against protocol for a non-royal to ask a royal to dance. Everyone knew that. Or...maybe they didn't. Maybe the public education system really had gotten worse than Finn realized. Or maybe she was a foreigner. Anyway, Finn didn't really care, as it saved him from having to pick someone out and ask her.

She pressed herself really close to him as they danced. Like, really inappropriately close. Finn took a step back and held her, a little forcefully, at arm's length. "So where are you from, miss?" he asked. His guess was the U.S., but she surprised him by naming a suburb not that far from the capital.

"I saw Prince Samuel dancing with that man," she announced. "And if that display was to demonstrate the royal family's acceptance of the gay lifestyle, then I want to you know you have my full support."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

"But it looked like more than that to me," she went on. "And, you know, not everyone in this kingdom is as tolerant as I am."

"I disagree," Finn said. Hoping she'd get the hint he added, "Most citizens are respectful of each others' privacy."

She didn't seem to get the hint, though. She ignored his comment entirely and said, "He should still marry a woman he can have little princes and princesses with. Someone like me. As long as he was discreet, I could be too."

Finn stopped dancing. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm just saying." Although the woman was much smaller than he was, she somehow got him dancing with her again. "And when I say that I can be discreet, I don't just mean about Prince Samuel. I also mean..."

Although he wanted no part of this conversation, Finn found himself looking down at her, waiting for her to go on. She actually batted her eyelashes at him—or at least he thought that was what she was doing; it was hard to tell behind her blinged-out mask—and said, "You're the one I've always wanted." She pressed herself against him and went on, "I would be your mistress..."

Okay, so yes, Finn had just been thinking uncharitable thoughts about his wife regarding their sex life. And he had considered cheating on her before—he'd even come really close on an occasion or two. But he had never done it, and if he ever did, it certainly wouldn't be with some annoying, pushy, completely transparent schemer like this one. His only concern now was how to end this conversation without having her cause a scene.

Finn gestured over one of the guards. "Mr. Karofsky is going to finish this dance with you, miss," he said, stopping and letting the guard cut in.

"Oh! But—"

"Dave, please keep an eye on the young lady. If she becomes disruptive, she'll have to leave."

"Of course, Your Highness."

Finn bowed stiffly at the woman and turned to look for a non-psychotic dance partner. As he walked away he heard her calling after him, "But you'll tell Prince Samuel about my offer, won't you? My name is Rachel and my phone number is..."

Karofsky spun the young lady around as Prince Finn walked away. "Do you have a brother, by any chance?" he asked her.

.

Sam really couldn't take any more. Yes, he'd promised himself he'd be patient, but now it was a super long time later, and Darren had finally worked his way up to having a third finger inside him, and he was now kissing and licking his balls, and Sam was in real danger of coming without Darren's dick in him, and he desperately wanted to come with Darren's dick in him. "Okay, okay," he panted. "Please. Please fuck me now. I can't..."

"Yeah," Blaine replied. He couldn't wait any longer either. Despite his two earlier orgasms his cock felt like it had never been so neglected. He groaned at the touch of his own hand rubbing some coconut oil onto it.

He was still a little nervous though. Not nervous that he was going to hurt Sam—Sam's responses to his fingers had assuaged that fear—but just...because. "Is this position good?" he asked. "I mean, do you want me actually on top like this, or...?"

"Yeah, just like this," Sam said, spreading his legs wider. "Please."

Blaine got up onto his knees and lined himself up. He gasped as the head of his cock popped inside Sam's welcoming entrance.

Sam gasped too. He gasped and said, "More, more, more!"

Blaine pushed in more. Slowly, because he was in awe at the sight of his dick sinking deeper and deeper into Sam's ass. It went in and in and in and then his balls were pressed up against Sam's ass and he couldn't go in any farther. He held that position for several seconds, just trying to let his brain catch up to the reality of what they were doing.

Sam let out a deep sigh. It was such a relief to have Darren finally all the way in him. But, God, why wasn't he moving? "Are you okay, baby?" he asked.

Blaine was vaguely aware that Sam had just asked if he was okay. But it was such a ridiculous question. He was so much better than okay. He tried to say as much, but his answer came out as something like guh.

Okay. Sam could work with this. He would just move underneath Darren. Yeah.

Yeah, fuck, that was good. The way Sam was rocking back and forth on his cock was incredible. Blaine would have been happy to just let Sam keep doing that as long as he wanted. Or that's what his brain thought anyway, but some part of his body wasn't content with that, and his hips started moving. He was thrusting in gently, and then not so gently, and then Sam's hands were on his ass pulling him in even harder and deeper than he would have thought possible.

Sam had his arms and legs wrapped around Darren, and he lifted his head up to kiss him. He just wanted every possible part of his body, inside and out, to be touching Darren's body, and it wasn't even about his impending orgasm, though he could tell that was going to be epic. What was going to be even more epic was Darren's orgasm. Sam wanted Darren's essence inside him so badly.

Once he got going, Blaine wasn't able to hold off very long at all. All he could do was hope that Sam would be understanding—which he had been about, so far, everything—and warn him somewhat incoherently, "I can't...I'm gonna..."

"God, yes, please come inside me."

Blaine was going to do just that with or without permission, but hearing Sam ask for it so desperately set him off even stronger. With one final deep and powerful thrust, his body locked up and his cock began to erupt violently.

Sam actually screamed when he felt the first gush of Darren's come blast inside him. He screamed and he shook and he bit down on Darren's shoulder as his own orgasm tore through him. He was still shaking when Darren's body went boneless and collapsed on top of him. At least he wasn't screaming anymore though. It was more of a breathy moan by that point.

As soon as he was able to form actual words, he said weakly, "I'm sorry about your shoulder."

"Huh?" Blaine asked, dazed.

"I said I'm sorry about your shoulder."

Blaine still didn't get it. "Huh?" he asked again.

"I'm sorry I bit your shoulder."

"Oh. It's okay. I didn't even notice." Blaine sighed and snuggled against Sam. But then he thought of something. "Not because I did something you didn't like, I hope."

"Not because of that at all," Sam said. "It was perfect. You were perfect."

.

"Finally," Jake said. Finally they heard some sex noises.

"Finally?"

"Yeah, I mean...I was starting to worry that His Highness and that Darren guy had both passed out or something."

"That's not what I was worried about," Ryder said.

"What were you worried about?"

"No, I mean...I wasn't worried."

"Okay." Jake didn't believe this but decided not to press. "This guy's a lot quieter than the guy earlier today," he noted.

"Uh-huh," Ryder said. But Jake didn't understand at all. He didn't understand that the noises weren't that much quieter, they were just coming from farther away. Which meant Prince Samuel had taken Darren into his bedroom. Also, most of the noises weren't Darren's. Which meant, Ryder was pretty sure, that His Highness was the one taking it.

It made him furious. Prince Samuel probably had no idea that this guy he was letting fuck him in the ass had just gotten done blowing Jake, and God knows who else.

.

Blaine lay with his head on Sam's shoulder, wishing his stupid mask weren't in the way. That was really his only complaint, though, and considering how happy he was in every other respect, it wasn't a big deal at all.

Sam, however, groaned. Like, not a sexy groan.

"What's wrong, Sam?" It still sounded weird to Blaine to call prince that. Weird, but in a way he loved.

"No, nothing. Just...I just thought of how my father's going to kill me for being gone so long," Sam admitted.

Blaine sat up. "Oh my God! I'm sorry! I don't want to get you in trouble with your...with the king."

"No, don't worry," Sam said, trying to pull Blaine back down onto his chest. "It's not your fault, and anyway, it would totally be worth it."

Blaine resisted the desire to allow himself to be pulled back down. "It wouldn't be worth it to me," he said. "I'd never forgive myself."

"You know he won't actually kill me, right? There would be all kinds of bad press."

"No, I know, but...I'd feel terrible if he even yelled at you."

.

David Martinez was sharing a dance with his longtime partner downstairs. "I can't believe the king and queen seem so supportive of Prince Samuel basically coming out like this," Dustin was saying.

"I admit I was pleasantly surprised," David agreed. "I'm not surprised they knew, but I never thought they were especially eager for everyone to know." He thought about it as they did a spin. "But what do I know? I'm hardly in their inner circle."

"You're pretty close, though. I mean, you've seen Prince Samuel in his underwear."

"Lots of men have seen Prince Samuel in his underwear. And out of them." Speaking of which, he looked around for Jeremiah. Last he'd seen him the poor kid was just standing around looking lovelorn. He seemed to be constantly trying to catch a glimpse of the prince, who hadn't made an appearance in the ballroom in quite some time.

"I still can't believe you turned him down that one time." Dustin said. "I mean, I love you, honey, but if he came onto me, I wouldn't turn him down."

"He's half our age!"

"Speak for yourself. He's a full..." Dustin did a quick mental calculation. "...52.5 percent of my age."

"Yes, that 2.5 percent makes a big difference. Anyway, he only tops, from what I hear."

"Like that's a problem!"

"Not for me, claro, but for you. So don't get any ideas."

"Oh, come on! You can let me think about it at least. It's not like I'm ever going to get the chance in real life. Especially not if he settles down with that guy he was dancing with."

David laughed.

"What? You don't think it's possible?"

"Possible, I suppose," David conceded. "It just goes against everything I know about him, which, again, isn't that much more than his inseam. Mostly I don't want to get my hopes up."

"Your hopes?" Dustin asked. "I know you're an incurable romantic and I love you for it, but I wouldn't have guessed you'd be so emotionally invested in a twenty-one-year-old finding true love and settling down."

"No, but don't you see? If Prince Samuel wants to marry a man, we might actually join the twenty-first century and get same-sex marriage recognition in this kingdom."

Dustin stopped dancing. "You really think that's all it would take?"

"No, it's not all. It's the way things are headed everywhere; we'd hardly be trailblazers. But look. The king got the primogeniture laws changed when he had a daughter and it didn't look like he'd ever have a son. He seems more inclined to do the right thing when it's personal for him and his family."

"Hmm. I hope you're right. And for the record, if you are, I get to propose to you."

"Not if I beat you to it."

"Ha," Dustin said. "Like that will happen."

"Oh really?" David dropped down to one knee. He took his boyfriend's hand and said, "Dustin Goolsby, I love you." He noticed the people around them stop dancing and turn to watch. "Would you do me the great honor of—"

"Wait!" Dustin dropped to his knees too and put his hand over David's mouth. "Please let me do it. Not now. When I've had a chance to write a really mushy speech. Please."

David rolled his eyes affectionately. "Okay. If we can consider ourselves pre-engaged."

"Oh, we're definitely pre-engaged now," Dustin said. He kissed David and whispered in his ear, "Te amo, corazón dulce."

"Yo tambien te amo, mi vida."

The small group of people who had stopped to watch the attempted proposal clapped as they kissed on their knees. And then David was shocked out of the moment by a vaguely familiar voice above him clearing his throat and saying, "Señor Martinez? I'm sorry to interrupt..."

He looked up irritably. But when he realized who it was he wiped the irritation off his face and stood up. "Is His Highness having a problem with his suit?"

"Something like that, I think," Ryder said. "He asked me to bring you to him."

David held his hand out to his pre-fiancé and helped him up. "I'm sorry, honey, I have to..."

"Yeah, it's fine."

"It shouldn't take long. Maybe if you see Jeremiah you could ask him to dance or something?"

"But he's half my age!"

"He's less than that, and I just said dance!"

Once they were out of the ballroom, Ryder said, "I really am sorry to have interrupted."

"Oh, no, it's fine. I just hope you don't think anything inappropriate was going on. We were just getting pre-engaged."

"Oh," Ryder said. He wasn't sure what the response to a pre-engagement was. "Well then...pre-congratulations." He probably could have tried to sound a little happier for Señor Martinez. He liked the guy and everything, it was just...it wasn't the easiest time for him to be happy for other people who were in love.

Prince Samuel was still in his underwear when they got to the dressing room. His hair was even more messed up than when he'd stepped out into the hall asking Ryder to get Señor Martinez, and his face was flushed.

So was Darren's.

"Your Highness, what happened?" Señor Martinez asked. "I don't have the materials to make you a whole new suit!"

"Oh, no, mine is fine. It's over there." He gestured vaguely to a pile of clothing on the floor, which Ryder could see Señor Martinez trying very hard not to freak out about.

"Then...what can I help Your Highness with?"

"It's my friend, Darren," Prince Samuel said. Darren held out his hand and David shook it.

David had noticed the man there when he first walked in, of course, but he'd been discreetly trying not to look. Now that he was looking, he saw that the upper half of his outfit was impeccable, aside from the sloppily tied tie. The pants were equally well made, but didn't quite match and, worse, didn't fit well at all. "Yes, I see," he said. That is, he didn't see why Darren was dressed this way, but he could see that something needed to be done.

"He spilled something on his own pants," Prince Samuel explained. "And we sort of forgot to clean it before the stain set, so I thought he could borrow some of mine."

"Ah, yes, of course. I can't do a complete alteration with just my 'travel kit,'" David said, patting the pocket where he kept a few emergency supplies. "But I can manage something that will hold for the rest of the night."

"You're a lifesaver, David. Just as long as we can dance without him tripping on the legs, we'll be happy."

Darren spoke then. "Sam, you should go back now. I'll come down as soon as I can."

David and Ryder both froze. Had this guy really just addressed His Highness as Sam?

His Highness didn't seem to mind at all. He kissed Darren on the cheek and said, "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm not going anywhere without you."

The tailor was fast; it barely took him any more time to put a hem in the pants Blaine was wearing than it took Sam to get dressed again. Of the two, Blaine greatly preferred watching Sam. But he liked it even more when Sam finished dressing and then came over and stood behind him, hands on his shoulders.

David stood and examined his work. It looked pretty good, but of course he rarely was willing to settle for pretty good. He seemed to have little choice now, however, given the time constraints and the lack of proper tools. "This is a quick and dirty job," he explained apologetically. "I hope you won't think I'm always so sloppy."

"Of course not, David," Prince Samuel said. "Not that it actually looks sloppy. You're the best. Thanks again!"

"My pleasure, Your Highness." He bowed and prepared to leave. One thing was still bothering him, though. "Darren," he said, wishing he'd been told the young man's last name so he could address him properly, especially since what he was about to say could be considered overstepping, "I could give you a hand with that tie, if you'd like."

"Could you?" Blaine asked with relief. He never wore a bow tie, and he knew he hadn't gotten it right. "That would be awesome. Thank you so much!"

Sam held Darren's hand as they walked back to the ballroom. He wondered whether his father was still going to try to make him dance with girls. It seemed kind of pointless, now that everybody knew. And anyway, he wouldn't. He only wanted to dance with Darren.

Even though he led Darren into the ballroom through a side door, people noticed their return, and a crowd formed around them instantly. "Sorry," Sam said, clutching Darren's hand tighter.

"Sorry for what?"

"This," Sam said, gesturing to the throngs of people surrounding them. "I wish they'd give us a little privacy."

Blaine wished so too, but he felt incredibly selfish for feeling that way. "They just want to see you in person," he said. "That was the most I ever dared to hope for before...well, you know."

"Well, now I feel like kind of a dick for not wanting to dance with any of them."

Blaine thought he was probably supposed to encourage Sam to go dance with some other people. It would really make the night of almost anyone he picked. But he couldn't, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he said what he really felt, which was, "To me it makes you the opposite of a dick."

"I'm so glad! I don't want you to think I'm a dick." They reached the dance floor and Sam bowed and asked him to dance, which Blaine of course accepted. Sam held him close and whispered, "Of course, I don't mind at all if you're thinking of my dick."

Blaine blushed, because it was exactly what he was thinking of, actually. How could it not be? Now that he knew exactly how it looked...and tasted...and felt...how could he think of anything else?

Rachel watched as Prince Samuel danced dance after dance with that asshole Darren. It was so unfair and just plain rude. They weren't even taking breaks—they weren't even taking their hands off each other—between songs.

If only she could talk to him! She reluctantly accepted that she might not be Prince Samuel's physical ideal—the evidence was right in front of her—but surely she could get him to see reason if she could just talk to him.

The problem, in addition to the fact that he and Darren were apparently inseparable now, was that that guard Mr. Karofsky was watching her. Not every single minute, but often enough. Like she was going to hurt the prince. Like she could if she wanted to—he was almost a foot taller than her, for heaven's sake!

.

Brittany was dancing with some guy who claimed to be a count. She didn't think he really was. There were only like four counts in the whole kingdom who were around this guy's age. Three of them she'd already hooked up with, and she was pretty sure she'd recognize them even with masks on. The fourth was well known to be capital-G gay, and this guy was way too into her boobs to be gay. This fake count was a good dancer, though, so she didn't much care that he was lying to her in hopes of getting to do more than stare at her cleavage. It wasn't like he was going to get to do more. And she couldn't blame him for staring; her boobs were awesome.

She would have danced with him again, even, since Santana was still catching up with Princess Quinn, but when the song ended a woman she didn't recognize asked if she could cut in. And she didn't mean cut in and dance with the so-called count, she meant cut in and dance with Brittany. Of course, Brittany was a better dancer than he was, so that was hardly surprising.

Rachel silently congratulated herself on her plan when the blonde woman accepted her offer to dance. Her intense scrutiny of the ballroom was really paying off! She'd seen this woman earlier with her arm around another woman's waist. More importantly, she'd noticed that the woman and her girlfriend had been talking to Princess Quinn on what looked, from a distance anyway, to be pretty familiar terms. So now not only was Rachel showing how open-minded she was by dancing publicly with an apparent lesbian, but she was also much likelier to be able to get close to Prince Samuel with someone known to the royal family.

The only problem was that Brittany, as Rachel learned her name was, seemed to want to lead. Rachel decided to try to distract her with small talk, hoping that would make it easier to steer her. However, she had no idea what you were supposed to say to a lesbian. "So..." she tried, "you're a lover of Sappho, I take it?"

Brittany frowned, trying to remember if she'd even heard of that guy before. "I don't think we ever did it," she said. "Anyway, I don't really have lovers anymore since I got married. Except threesomes once in a while, but—"

"You're married?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah, but it's okay. My wife doesn't get jealous of me dancing with other people."

"But...same-sex marriage isn't legal here."

"Well it's not illegal," Brittany said. "It just doesn't count, like, officially. Which is totally unfair, don't you think?"

"Totally," Rachel said.

"I mean, what if Prince Samuel wants to get married?"

"Totally."

"We should go tell him that," Brittany announced.

"Tota-...Go what?"

"Go tell Prince Samuel to change the laws so him and his boyfriend can be official and me and Santana can too."

"Yes, we should totally go talk to him right now!" Rachel agreed enthusiastically. She didn't even see Mr. Karofsky around; this was almost perfect! There was still the problem of how to get the prince away from Brittany, not to mention Darren, but she was confident she'd think of something.

A couple women were headed straight for the prince. Ryder intercepted them, saying, "I'm afraid I can't let you get any closer, ladies."

"We need to talk to the prince," the taller, blonde one said.

"His Highness is occupied."

"When is he going to dance with someone else?" the shorter, brunette one asked, kind of demandingly.

The blonde one said, "No, it's cool, I know him. I went to high school with his sister."

"His Highness is occupied."

"We just want to tell him to change the law to allow same-sex marriage," the blonde one said.

The brunette one, meanwhile, seemed to be creeping closer.

"If you ladies don't back off I'll have to ask you to leave the ballroom."

"How can you say that?" the blonde one asked. "You're like a traitor to your own orientation!"

Ryder flinched. He wasn't in the closet exactly; he just didn't know how she could tell. He only flinched for a second, but it was long enough for the brunette one to get past him.

One second Blaine was dancing cheek-to-cheek—well, cheek-to-mask—with Sam, completely oblivious to the hundreds of other people around them, and the next second he felt someone touching his elbow—someone he knew wasn't Sam because both Sam's hands were on his back, just barely above his ass. And when he looked to see who was intruding on his perfect moment, he couldn't believe it was fucking... "Rachel!"

Ryder was just about to grab the woman, but he held back when he realized Darren knew her.

Rachel flashed Darren her most dazzling smile. She was so glad he remembered her; that was going to make this easier. "Darren, don't you remember you were going to introduce me to His Highness?" she asked sweetly.

Sam felt Darren go rigid in his arms. "Are you okay, baby? Who is this?"

"She's...she's the same woman who was harassing me before you first asked me to dance."

"Harassing you!?" Rachel objected. "We were having a friendly conversation!"

"You want me to introduce you to the prince, Rachel?"

"That would be lovely."

"Your Highness, may I present Rachel. She's intent on marrying you. She doesn't even like you that much, she just wants to be a princess."

Rachel sputtered incoherently.

"Get her out of here, Ryder," Sam ordered. Not because this Rachel was any threat, but because she was annoying Darren. That was something he wouldn't allow.

Blaine wasn't proud of how gleeful he felt watching Rachel get hauled away by the prince's guard. And she did really have to be hauled—after she refused to cooperate, Ryder picked her up in a fireman's carry. She kicked and screamed and the whole bit. Blaine tried really hard not to smile, but that was a lost cause. He did manage not to cackle.

Everybody turned to watch the spectacle, naturally. It was the last thing Sam wanted. What he wanted was to be alone with Darren again. "Fuck this," he said, as he took Darren's hand and led him back up to his bedroom.

Darren followed quickly and silently. When Sam closed the door—guarded by just Jake this time—he asked, "Do you mind? Hanging out here instead of down there?"

"Of course not," Blaine said. "If your father won't kill you."

"I don't think he will, actually." Sam had been surprised not to be reprimanded for leaving the ball for as long as he already had. So...maybe his father had decided to be cool about this. And even if he hadn't, Sam could deal with him later. "So what do you feel like doing?"

Blaine blushed. Being back in Sam's bedroom made him feel like doing exactly what they'd been doing before. Or if not exactly, then a close variation. But obviously he couldn't presume that Sam would want to again.

Darren sure blushed a lot. It was hot as hell actually, and Sam hoped that, in this case, it meant what he thought it meant. He stepped closer and reached for Darren's bow tie. "Maybe I should help you out of this?" he suggested.

"I'll probably never get it tied again if you do," Darren said.

"Why would you need to?" Sam asked. "When we can stay here all night with no ties on...no shirts...no pants..."

"God, that sounds perfect."

.

Blaine realized he must have fallen asleep at some point. He'd fallen asleep and now he was naked and wrapped up in the warm embrace of the prince, also naked and also asleep. It was perfect except for an annoying, persistent sound coming from the next room. That noise was really bugging him. He wondered if it was important somehow. "Your Highness?" He nudged the prince. "Sam?"

Sam's only response was to groan lightly and snuggle him tighter.

Blaine opened his eyes. The light in the room seemed different. Shit, the light! Light was starting to come in from outside. What time was it? Oh fuck, that noise he heard was his alarm! He jumped out of bed and found his pants. The phone wasn't in them!

That's right, these were Sam's pants. The phone Kurt had given him was in the pants Kurt had given him, which were...shit! in the dressing room!

"Darren?" Sam mumbled. "Darren, come back to bed."

Blaine paused at the door to the dressing room. "I have to go," he said.

"What?" Sam sat up in bed, alert now but still adorably mussed. "Why?"

"Kurt. He said I had to be gone by dawn and it's already..." Blaine trailed off because he didn't actually know exactly how close it was to dawn. Just that it was close.

"Fucking Kurt!" Sam rolled out of bed and ran into the dressing room, where Darren was pulling his pants on. "What did he say he'd do if you didn't leave by dawn?"

"He didn't say," Blaine said. It was really tempting to just stay and take his chances. Maybe if it wouldn't be too bad... "What do you think he might do?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. He'd never not held up his end of a deal with Kurt. If it meant Kurt doing something to him he would risk it, but not with Darren being the one to suffer. "You'd better go."

"Yeah." Blaine put his socks and shoes on, then rushed back into the bedroom for his shirt and jacket. The tie he just left lying on the floor. He didn't bother to button the jacket, or half of the shirt for that matter. He looked at his phone. 6:58. That gave him four minutes to find his way out. "I'm sorry," he said. And then, after the night they'd had together he decided it wouldn't be too forward to pull the prince close and kiss him one last time. And the prince, judging from the way he kissed back, didn't seem to disagree.

It was a mistake, though. Because now Blaine didn't ever want to stop kissing him. He did stop, though. He stopped when Sam pulled back and said, "You need to go."

Blaine looked at his phone again and saw the time change from 6:59 to 7:00. He didn't even have time to say good-bye now, he only had time to run.

Sam followed him out into the hall. Jake jumped in front of him. "Your Highness! Are you all right? Can I get you some...clothes?"

Leaning around his guard, Sam yelled down the hallway, "I'll find you! Do you hear me, Darren? Or whatever your name really is? Wait for me, I'll find you!"

But Darren—or whatever his name really was—was already gone.