Blaine could feel the pounding of the base even before he entered into the club. He quickly showed his ID, got his hand stamped, and mentally prepared himself for tonight.
You will have fun. You will be sexy. You will not get a headache and leave early.
Clubs had not really been his scene the past year or so, and it was mostly Freddie and Jack that had convinced him to come tonight. It also helped that they were not already a couple and so he wouldn't be the awkward third wheel like he had so often been around Nick and Jeff. But, he just had this incessant need to feel like he was a kid again, and not like the old and boring, 22-year-old, unemployed recent college graduate that he was. He was going to end his pity party with one night, and then he would go back to be responsible Uncle Blaine in the morning.
He spotted Jack at the bar on the far side of the dance floor, meaning he had to do some careful maneuvering among the masses of bodies. He had met Jack in college—the blonde British boy having charmed his way into Blaine's life from the first few days. He and Blaine had never been involved romantically—unless you would call a one-night-stand that both of them were too drunk to remember anything about romantic—but many people had always assumed. By this point they were tired of correcting people and just let it pass; it was like a game for Jack most of the time—they both thought it was hilarious.
Jack picked up his head and recognized Blaine coming over, laughing at his struggle to separate the tightly-packed dancing bodies, before turning back to the bartender and ordering another drink with a wink.
By the time Blaine finally arrived, Jack was handing a dirty martini to Blaine, giving him a small half-hug.
"Where's Freddie?" Blaine tried yelling, without being excessive. He wasn't loud enough by far—the music was loudest here as they were right in the epicenter of the dance floor—but the two had been so accustomed to reading lips that Jack simply smiled and waved back over his shoulder, turning around and grabbing Blaine's hand to lead him through the crowd over to the more private and slightly less loud booths for seating. It was here that he finally spotted his red-headed friend, who was milking a gin and tonic and seemed to be too busy eye-fucking a tall guy a few tables over to notice his friends approaching.
Jack smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes, winking at Blaine, before striding the rest of the way to the table, sliding into the booth next to Freddie and kissing him smack on the lips before looking over and glaring at the guy who had been checking him out. Needless to say, the stranger quickly turned around and went back to his drink.
"Jack, what the fuck was that?" Freddie asked, pushing the taller man off of him and glaring.
"Just a little fun Fred," he answered, ruffling his friend's hair, before turning to Blaine who had slid into the seat across from them and laughing, "can't let you get too carried away yet. The night is so young."
"Yeah, well my night was about to be really awesome until you decided to cockblock," Fred said with less anger, the ends of his mouth tilting up just slightly to reveal the beginnings of a smile.
"Blaine, you look nice. Finally lightening up and deciding to get some tonight?" Freddie smirked.
"Yes, I had so dearly not wanted to get some in a long time, but I've finally come around to deciding that I may in fact want to try sex out. See if it floats my boat," Blaine said before taking a sip of his drink and rolling his eyes.
"So sassy tonight, Anderson. That drink already loosening you up?" Jack asked with a lilt of teasing in his voice.
"It can only mean that you must've drugged it, Jay. Trying to get me into bed?"
"Well, I know that you are especially easy when inebriated…"
"At least I'm only easy when I'm drunk. You're easy all the time."
Jack stuck his tongue out at Blaine before the boys went back to normal conversation. It wasn't until twenty minutes later that Jack was getting to antsy just sitting around and talking and suggested that the boys all go and dance. Blaine was hesitant, but one look from Jack that said "Blaine Anderson, I'm not letting you leave this club tonight without dancing", he figured he'd rather get it over with now. And he used to like dancing a lot, especially the up close and personal kind. It should be easy to jump right back into it.
Blaine was thrust out of his reverie by the feeling of being pushed around, now realizing that he seemed to be in the middle of all of the chaos. He moved independently for a few minutes, soaking in the feel of sweaty bodies all around him with the music overcoming all of his senses. He closed his eyes for a moment, just getting lost in the feeling, before he was jolted once again. When he opened his eyes, he saw a tall, lithe body in front of him, sinfully moving his hips to the beat, in nothing painted-on navy pants, a tight white v-neck, and an open black waistcoat.
Blaine watched the stranger dance for a few minutes, noticing that he didn't seem to be here with anyone in particular. The boy seemed young, at least a few years younger than Blaine and certainly too young to be in this club. He can tell the boy is a few inches taller than him, ass in the incredibly tight pants he's wearing, and as he looks back up, he locks eyes but that's something Blaine has become accustomed to when he stopped growing in his freshman year of high school. He looks down slightly to admire the young man's with the man who has evidently turned around and has just about the most breathtaking blue eyes Blaine has ever seen.
The boy must've noticed that Blaine was staring because there's a hint of a blush trying to creep its way onto his cheeks, but he strongly maintains eye contact, Blaine returning the gesture, unable to comprehend anything else except how beautiful this boy's face is—strong angular jaw line, small nose, and his lips that are pulled into a half smile.
Blaine moved to take a step towards the boy, smiling when he seemed to get an encouraging look from him, taking a few more steps before he was only a few feet away, and could already feel his body aching for more; to be closer. Unfortunately, he was not able to comply to his body's wishes as he was abruptly cut off by a tall, blonde man, who looked to be a few years older than the boy with the blue eyes. From what Blaine could see, there was a look of recognition on the boy's face—either he came here with him or knew him from somewhere else—and sooner than Blaine would've liked, the blonde slipped his arms around the beautiful boy's waist and pulled him closer, so his head was now resting on his shoulder. This position gave the Blaine and the boy the perfect opportunity to make eye contact again. This time, the boy's eyes were still smiling but had a tone of regret, something that Blaine hoped he was the reason for, but was not so sure.
Blaine gave the boy a half smile and a nod before finally turning around and parting with the blue eyes, not willing to subject himself to watching the beautiful boy dance with another man any longer. He needed another drink.
…
They were the most captivating eyes that Kurt had ever seen.
Okay, maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but it was in his nature. And those eyes…even through the dim lighting of the club, he could tell that they were gorgeous. And not to mention, the guy's face. He had tanned olive skin that was sharply contrasted against his dark curly locks and his tight black shirt. Black, Armani shirt to be exact. Oh god, good fashion sense, too. But, after the quick once over, proving to Kurt that the man in fact seemed to have the body of a Greek god, he couldn't help but turn all of his focus to the man's eyes. They were sparkling now as the hint of a smile crept up onto the man's face. Kurt realized in that moment that he had also been smiling and looked down, embarrassed and starting to blush.
That's when the man began to walk towards Kurt, and he was certainly not objecting. There was something inherently charismatic about the man, he could tell from standing just 15 feet away.
He was jostled out of his reverie, his line of sight being interrupted by a drunk Cass, who was suddenly circling his arms around his waist and pulling Kurt tight against his body. Kurt couldn't help but notice the fallen expression on the man's face, and it excited Kurt that he could make someone feel like that, but it also gave him a feeling of sadness; he found himself wishing that he had gotten better acquainted with the man. The man who was now walking back the other way towards the bar. He couldn't help but feel some disappointment in that moment.
"Hey babe, why are you so tense?" Kurt was reminded in that moment that he was currently dancing—or just standing there, really—with Cass.
"It's nothing. I'm fine." Kurt said, resuming his hip movements, causing Cass to groan and fall silent as he reciprocated.
Kurt felt Cass slowly getting hard against his hip, as he felt the older boy kissing his way from Kurt's collarbone, up his neck, and to his ear where he sucked the boy's earlobe into his mouth, playing it with his tongue, before whispering: "So good, Kurt, so good."
At that moment, Kurt felt Cass's hands slide to his ass, grabbing and petting through his jeans, causing Kurt to buck against him. A moan reverberated from Kurt's throat as he began to move his hips in bigger movements, panting heavily as Cass kept kissing and licking his ear, whispering things like, "so hot, Kurt", "oh yes, like that", and "show me those hips, babe". Kurt began to harden himself and when Cass started obviously grinding against Kurt in big movements, he decided it was time for them to go. As he grabbed his jacket from their table, though, he did not see those hazel eyes that were boring into the back of his head, daring him to turn around.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews and positive feedback! Keep it coming please! Thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying everything so far :)