A/N: I've addressed a lot of the concerns guest reviewers had about the last chapter here: prettylittlepoutymouth tumblr com/post/51252355880 . I just want to reassure readers that I'm aware of the cultural forces at work in the story, and the fact that they're there is the point. These people don't live in an ideal world and they're certainly not perfect, but I'm trying to give them the truest interpretations I can.

This update discusses Klaine sex.

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Put your hand in my hand and we'll stand
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It's only just begun, but it's already exciting, in a stressful way.

He'd started posting flyers within a week after Mr. Schue told him there was funding for a play and musical and held tryouts for the musical two weeks later, and callbacks the last week in January (on his birthday, actually; he figured since he couldn't do much celebrating in the middle of the week, he'd do something else he enjoyed). He felt the musical would be harder to cast, and didn't want to get his potential casts confused, so he wanted to finish casting that before starting play tryouts, which would begin the next week.

And since he'd had little overseeing—Coach Beiste and Mrs. Schuester both seemed rather surprised he was willing to take on two productions and were willing to let him do what he thought was best—he was able to choose two shows he was particularly interested in.

Artie chose Guys and Dolls for the musical because, well, original gambling gangsters speak to him, as does the original all-black cast. Plus zoot suits, if he can get the costumes. Besides, it contains an original New Directions song choice.

And for his play, he chose A Streetcar Named Desire. Mostly because of the small cast (there had been a few other contenders, but realizing the dearth of talent in general at McKinley, he'd chosen a small cast play so that he would actually be able to put on both), but it isn't just the size. He feels it'll be a nice challenge, to try to put on a play with the simultaneous subtlety and overt sexuality in a high school setting.

You know. Might look good for his credentials.

Callbacks pass and…well, things are looking more difficult. He'd thought he had a good idea of who he wanted for each part, but now that he's looking at voice parts and trying to match people into roles they could actually sing, well…

Then there is what to do with Wade, who though she had tried out for Adelaide, had offered that she might be willing to play a male role because she doesn't know if she'll be fully out as trans to the rest of the school by then, so Artie is now torn between wanting to respect Wade's gender and wanting to fit her into a role that could work, a role that she won't abandon because she's not ready to live as female. Because he's not sure he wants his Adelaide using falsetto, which, while Wade is certainly a powerhouse with a high tenor range, many of Adelaide's notes would put her in her falsetto range and…he just doesn't prefer that kind of sound.

So it turns out he starts holding play tryouts while his musical casting is still incomplete. Which is frustrating, because he spends the weekend celebrating his birthday with a lot of the New Directions, and since most of them tried out, they keep asking him whether they made it, and…yeah. He doesn't know how else to tell them that he doesn't know yet.

As he expected, he sees a lot of the same faces at the play tryout, although…he hadn't quite expected it to be all the same faces. He had hoped that the play would draw out some people who weren't into singing and dancing but liked acting. It seemed, however, that the same small group of students were the only ones really interested in both. And the most talented were in the Glee club. Some of the band kids tried out, but most knew they would be in the orchestra pit for the musical and didn't bother, so…

And Blaine, who had tried out for Sky Masterson and now Stanley Kowalski.

Artie feels his own eyebrows rising as Blaine reads the monologue. Blaine is pretty good. For such a smiling nice guy, he's really channeling some rage and aggression as he reads the part, but…it's Blaine.

Afterwards, Artie folds his hands and regards Blaine, "I can't help but notice you've tried out for both leads."

Blaine smiles a little, "Well, yeah. They're both parts that speak to me. Sky is a total romantic, and, well, I do love Streetcar, and since I can't be Blanche…" he laughs, then sobers, "But really, I'm a big Brando fan. I've watched both of the films repeatedly—and mostly Streetcar. I feel very confident about the role."

"But both roles? Could you possibly learn both?"

Blaine shrugs uneasily, "Sure. I mean, I'm familiar enough."

"Right," Artie sighs, "Thank you, Blaine. Please come to callbacks."

But as tryouts go on, it's clear that…there really isn't anyone else who really has the right feel that Blaine has, but…he's Blaine. Would anyone believe he was capable of the things Stanley does? But at the same time, the fact that it is Blaine gives Stanley that little bit of vulnerability that is crucial…

And then Annette shows up.

She smiles slightly. She's one of the last to try out. "I don't really sing," she admits, "but I thought I could try out for the play. I think I'm okay."

"Yeah," Artie says, swallowing, "Yeah, sure. Show me what you've got."

Annette is…not bad. He thinks. It's hard to be sure when he's mostly just watching her greedily. She tries out for Blanche, and he finds himself thinking, well, Blanche is written as a blonde, but that doesn't have to be true, does it?

She gets a callback, of course, and leaves feeling very relieved, but Artie really can barely remember her tryout.

Callbacks help with some of his uncertainty, and afterwards he begins putting together his cast lists with more confidence. He does his best to pair a smaller role in one production with a bigger one in the next (since his casts overlap so much), and it starts to come together pretty well.

One snag is definitely Annette. Once she got to callbacks, and read lines opposite Sam, another Stanley contender, it's clear that she isn't terrific. Not bad, but she doesn't have the nuance that Blanche requires, but…

Artie ends up writing her in as Stella without much of a second thought.

For Blanche, shockingly, the two biggest contenders are Brittany and Sugar. He had honestly been pleasantly surprised at their performances at tryouts and callbacks. He had also been considering both for Adelaide, and it's hard, because he kind of does want Wade for Adelaide, but…he gives it to Brittany, because she's the better dancer, and, shaking his head, still surprised, gives Sugar the role of Blanche. She's just histrionic enough to make it work.

After callbacks, he talks to Blaine privately and asks, "Look, is this about your career? I mean, I get it. The only reason I'm doing both the play and the musical is to prove myself. If you want the lead roles because you want to prove yourself to prospective dramatic arts schools, maybe I can do that for you."

Blaine frowns, "I think the only proving I want to do is to myself. My applications are already in. I haven't heard anything yet. And while, yes, this would be good to share during interviews or auditions, don't just give me the roles to help my career. I'll be responsible for my own career."

Artie nods; it's a fair answer. Which is how Blaine gets Stanley, but not Sky. Artie gives him Nathan Detroit instead—a secondary lead.

Sky and Sarah are easy after that—Sam and Tina had both blown him away, both individually and with their chemistry, and seemed fine with smaller roles in Streetcar (though, he had been considering Tina for Stella…but Sam gets Mitch). And then…Wade becomes Nicely-Nicely—which will give her a chance to show off her range. And then Rory is Bennie and Joe is Rusty; they'll sound great all together on Fugue for Tinhorns…and Adam has a rich enough voice to handle Arvide…

Everyone seems pretty happy about their roles when he posts the cast lists the next day. The only person who seems to be putting on a brave face is Wade. Artie goes to check on her.

"I get it," Wade says glumly, "I mean, I'm a sophomore. It's a seniority thing, I know that much. And I also get why you wanted a ciswoman to be Adelaide…Brittany's voice has gotten a lot better."

"Adelaide's allowed to be a little pitchy and nasal," Artie says a bit dismissively, "She would have been a waste of your vocal talents, honestly. I know you wanted Sarah but you would be almost entirely falsetto…"

"Yeah," Wade admits, a little bitterly, "That's true. And I get that so much falsetto isn't the best to listen to. I'm not really like Kurt. I'm not quite countertenor. And I know you never have enough guys for these sorts of thing and since I'm still trying with the coming out to the whole school thing… 'Sit Down' is a really great solo, too. I know I should be happier."

"Just let me know if I can do anything," Artie says awkwardly, and as he rolls away, he decides it.

Somehow, he's going to turn Nicely-Nicely Johnson into a female gangster.

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I'm on your side when nobody is, 'cause nobody is
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Now that she's come out to Puck—someone who she's almost always liked, despite their conflicts, even if she's rarely respected him—it's starting to feel easier. There's even a part of her that's starting to think it might be okay to tell Rachel because, well, now that she thinks about it, it's pretty unlikely that Rachel would ask the same line of questions Santana did that helped her figure out that Quinn has feelings for Rachel. Rachel would most likely hug and accept her and, just being on the phone with Rachel earlier in the week, talking about Puck, made her realize how much she missed the rare times where they could be pretty candid with each other (even if Quinn was always hiding her feelings, sometimes even from herself).

She is supposed to go down to visit Rachel the following weekend, but now, this weekend, she's just spending time with her friends. Her tenuous peace with Stephanie seems to be holding, and even though Lucas frequently smiles at her like they share a secret, she feels less like punching him in the face these days. They spend Saturday playing weird board games that Quinn has never heard of, but it turns out she likes. Her favorite is an old game that Lucas owns called Dune, and since they have six people (Lulu hasn't managed to take some time away from her boyfriend, but Steve appears to be feeling social and Rob is over, too), they have the perfect number for a full game. It's some kind of war strategy game where they're moving troops all over the map to try to collect some kind of currency called Spice (Quinn suppresses giggles because she can't help but think about the Spice Girls) and there's treachery and betrayal and strategy and, really, it feels like everything Sue Sylvester has prepared her for.

Sunday, though, is kind of a disappointment because it's a big homework day. And also because Stephanie is being rather short with her. The third time Stephanie asks for her opinion and then mutters, "I don't know why I ask you anything," Quinn has had enough and takes the book she's trying to read and leaves.

She knocks on Sean and Steve's door. Sean answers, his eyebrows raised in his only expression of intrigue, and when Quinn walks in and realizes Sean is playing Playstation, she tosses her book aside and says, "What're we playing?"

"Grand Theft Auto," Sean answers, warily, and catching Quinn's face, just passes the controller over, "I'm supposed to be…" but he trails off and lets Quinn pick up the controls. Soon, she's causing traffic accidents, hijacking cars, and punching hookers in the face.

"Where's Steve?" she finally asks.

Sean just shrugs, "Library, maybe?"

Quinn suppresses a snort because, yeah, it's not often Steve seems to care about his schoolwork.

"Sorry to take over," Quinn finally says awhile later, "Stephanie was being a bitch."

Sean nods, "Yeah, I think she said she has to be the first person to present her class presentation in one of her classes. I think she's really nervous about it."

"Yeah," Quinn grumbles, "So she takes it out on me."

"What happened between you two?" Sean asks tentatively a few moments later.

Quinn sighs, because…she doesn't feel like she can really tell. It's not just her secret. So she takes a different approach, "It's because…I'm gay."

Sean just stares at her for a few moments, "You are?"

"Yeah," Quinn says, "And she's not homophobic or anything, but I haven't told her. I think she's figured it out, though, and is mad that I haven't told her. I don't know."

"Wow," Sean finally says, "I never would have guessed that. And, you know. It's cool. I don't have a problem with it." They're silent for a few more minutes, until Sean quietly states, "I have to admit I really don't have much experience with this. There was Lucas a couple weeks ago, and now you. And honestly, Quinn, I don't think I've met anybody gay before now, or at least not out. I'm from middle of nowhere West Virginia. It's not the most tolerant area. But I'm glad, at least, that I figured out before coming to college that this stuff isn't something that hurts anybody. That it's okay to be gay, you know? I'm on your side."

"Thanks, Sean," she answers, oddly touched. Lima felt enough like the middle of nowhere to her, she can't imagine what it must've been like for Sean or, God forbid, any gay kids at his school. She hesitates, then says, "You're the first person here I've told."

He stares at her a bit, "Really?"

A smile, "Yeah. Because I'm not ready for everyone to know and I know you won't tell anyone else."

He nods soberly, but doesn't say anything else about it, instead just points to the screen and says, "Head down that street. Trust me," he adds preemptively, sensing she's about to argue.

She hands back the controller soon afterwards and reads until Sean decides to get back to work on his homework. Then she hugs him, briefly, and heads back downstairs, both smugly triumphant that she told him before she actually told Lucas, and feeling more and more certain about telling Rachel.

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Oh, my sweet fairy, our hearts did us wrong
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It's finally happening, after a few delays. And, as a happy coincidence, it's going to double as a celebration for landing some lead roles in the play and musical.

The gay bar seems like the appropriate place to do that, after all.

Blaine is freshly showered, shaven, and is gelling his hair into place, towel around his waist. He's singing Luck be a Lady to himself, refusing, as he does so, to begrudge Sam for landing the role of Sky; he's thrilled that he got Nathan and Stanley, because he just wants to enjoy the high school stage as much as possible. He's excited: he, Karofsky, Unique, Brittany and Tina are all going. Merry knew she wouldn't be able to sneak in, and they'd invited Sam and Sugar to come share in the celebration, but Sam, seeming actually disappointed, said he had to work, and Sugar declined, saying she had plans to spend the evening on a Sex and the City marathon, and besides, she didn't like going places where the men were prettier than her.

Mid-gel, his phone rings, and he smiles to see it's Kurt. They call when they can, usually twice a week or so, even if it's just to say a quick hello. And, if he recalls correctly, Kurt is off today, so he's bound to be in a good mood.

"Hey, love," Blaine answers, trying in vain to continue combing his hair, but holding the phone up to his ear just gets in the way.

"Hey, honey," Kurt answers, and his voice is breathier than normal.

"Enjoying your day off?" he asks, smiling, picturing Kurt in those pajamas with the lapels, maybe sprawled out on his bed…

"I'm about to," Kurt replies, a hint of mischief in his voice, "Because you know what hearing your voice does to me…"

"…Oh," Blaine replies stupidly, suppressing a wild desire to laugh. It's not that it's funny that his horny boyfriend has called, it's that…they haven't had a chance to do this is awhile because of how hard Kurt has been working, and how frequently, and…this is not a good night…

"Yes, that 'oh,' really does it for me," Kurt says sarcastically, but it's with an amused edge. Blaine can hear rustling, like maybe Kurt is writhing on his bed a bit.

Blaine weighs his options. He needs to leave to pick up Unique in ten minutes, which isn't a ton of time, but hell, they've finished quicker. And…fuck, just imagining what Kurt might be doing to himself is making him react, and hey, it doesn't really matter if he's a little late, does it?

But then he'd have to re-style his hair, which would surely get mussed, and he'd be tired, and just…it just doesn't feel like the right time, much as Kurt and his own body might like it to be.

"I'm thinking about kissing you," Kurt murmurs, "and the way your body feels against mine, the way you start getting excited so quickly."

Blaine groans. "Kurt, I'm so, so sorry. I don't think I can tonight. I've got plans with Unique and Dave, remember?"

A moment of silence, then an irritated puff of air from Kurt, "Oh. Right. I guess I just thought…since we haven't in so long."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt agrees begrudgingly, "I'm not off again for another six days, maybe then?"

"Of course," Blaine agrees, "And I'm so sorry, but I've got to go, I love you."

"Love you, too," Kurt answers, his tone only a little clipped. They say goodbye and hang up, and Blaine puts the finishing touches on his hair and, ignoring his body, forces himself into one of his favorite pairs of navy slacks. He pauses, considering his appearance, then takes a picture of himself shirtless, and sends it to Kurt, with the message "for inspiration."

Kurt will notice the evidence of their conversation, pressed against the front of his slacks.

He completes the ensemble with a button-up and a sweater vest, checks his hair again, and hurries out of the house to his car to go pick up Unique.

On the way there, he gets a text message from Kurt.

Kurtsy: Thank you, sexy.

It gives him something to smile about when he finally checks his phone in Unique's driveway.

Unique, it transpires, is ready for him, because he's halfway to the door when Unique emerges, smiling shyly. She's wearing a form-fitting, shimmering silvery dress that stops just below the knees, with long sleeves and a black belt, a small black purse over her shoulder. She completes the look with a short, choppy-haired black wig, a pair of dangly earrings, a black necklace and black heels. She makes sure Blaine sees it before pulling on a pea coat.

Blaine nods approvingly, his eyebrows raised, "Well, you definitely look incredible," he says, offering his arm, "I feel underdressed."

"Unique always likes to make an entrance," Unique answers primly.

"No doubt, it reminds me of your Nationals look a bit, and you certainly made an entrance there."

Unique smiles a bit, "It's time Lima really sees me. I'm ready, or nearly there."

"This will be good practice," Blaine reassures as he guides her to sit in the front seat, closing the door for her, "A safe space, before you have to deal with high school," he continues once he's in the car with her.

She shudders slightly at the mention of high school, and Blaine begins to drive them off to the gay bar.

When they get there, they see Brittany and Tina, both wearing short skirts, wedges and long sleeves, huddled in jackets, (Brittany in bright colors, mainly purple, Tina in dark, mainly blue). Brittany is a surprisingly punctual person, but then, all the Cheerios are. As they get out of the car and Brittany and Tina are absolutely squealing over Unique's outfit, Blaine sees Karofsky pulling up. It feels like a good sign that they all arrive on time and he feels validated in his decision to not get off with Kurt before leaving.

Although, the fact that he didn't seems to be making his body just feel wired, charged. On edge.

Karofsky so isn't his type, but he has to admit he looks good. When Karofsky had told him that he was planning to just wear a t-shirt and jeans, Blaine had reacted incredulously. Especially since Karofsky admitted that was supposed to be meeting a date here—a guy who lived about forty miles away who he'd been talking to for a month or two. He figured having Blaine and the others around could be a good safety net if the guy turned out to be someone he wasn't into. But with those things in mind, clearly, Karofsky had tried a bit because, while he is wearing a pair of black jeans, he also has on a v-neck t-shirt that looks new and a simple sport coat underneath his old letterman.

"T-shirt and jeans, huh?" Blaine asks with a smile as he shakes Karofsky's hand in greeting.

Karofsky looks down at himself uncertainly, "Is it okay? I thought…"

"It's fine. Absolutely," Blaine reassures him, "I mean, I'm wearing basically what I wear everyday anyway. What's comfortable is more important."

"Speak for yourself," Tina mutters, gesturing toward the three women, particularly their shoes.

"I'm more comfortable this way," Unique retorts, but without any malice. Tina just grins at her.

They approach the entrance and, as before, the bouncer scrutinizes their fake IDs, rolls his eyes a little and shrugs, letting them inside. As before, Blaine hopes that they might make an entrance, being young, well-dressed and attractive, but the bar is mainly older men whose heads don't even turn, busy as they are talking to each other and nursing drinks.

"Where's your guy?" he murmurs to Karofsky, who is scanning the room as they follow the girls to their chosen table.

"There," Karofsky murmurs back, pointing discretely to a corner table where a man sits staring at his phone, his leg jiggling nervously. He's lean and tan, with full, dark hair that is graying slightly at the temples. Blaine stops and grabs Karofsky's arm.

"Dave, how old is this guy?"

Karofsky eyes dart away, "Twenty-nine? I think?"

Blaine glances at the man skeptically, "He's graying. He's lied to you about his age, no doubt about that."

Karofsky frowns darkly, "Hey, some people gray early. It's not a big deal."

"But if he has lied, that puts him more than ten years your senior."

"Yeah, I'm aware he's older," Karofsky says coldly, "Maybe I like that."

Blaine is gnawing on his lip. Honestly, the whole thing makes his stomach churn unpleasantly, but he breathes in and pushes away the urge to judge the whole situation. "I just want you to be careful," he finally says, "Because not all older guys who are interested in…in legal teenagers are trustworthy. So, just, be on your guard, okay?"

"Right. Okay," Karofsky responds uncertainly.

"I'll be by to check in on you," Blaine promises, "so let the guy know you're here with friends, alright? And that you'll be leaving with them?"

A sigh. "Yeah. I will."

"Good." Blaine pats his shoulder, and Karofsky straightens his spine and approaches the man, still fiddling with his phone.

Blaine keeps an eye on them while he follows the ladies to the table they've picked out and hangs his military pea coat on a chair. Karofsky's date smiles hugely and pockets his phone, getting out of his chair to hug and kiss Karofsky's cheek in greeting. Karofsky is smiling and seems excited to see him, and they sit together at the table. Karofsky gestures over to Blaine's table and Blaine looks away as the older man turns his head to look.

Brittany is asking what everyone would like to drink and Blaine asks for a cosmopolitan without much thought. He's trying not to watch Karofsky now, although he's feeling oddly protective. So he discusses Regionals briefly with Tina and Unique; both are interested in having a solo but don't seem to care about much else at this point, though Blaine is beginning to worry, because they really only have a few weeks, and Mr. Schue seems just as unable to plan for it as he was for Sectionals.

When Brittany comes back with drinks, she begins to ask Tina something, and Blaine tunes out their conversation before long. He glances at Karofsky and his date, who seem to be happily conversing over their drinks and making flirtatious eyes at each other over the table. He also looks around to see who else might be here. It's mostly bearish guys in jeans his father's age, a small cluster of drag queens sitting together who occasionally get up to prowl the room, a couple of presumably straight twenty-something girls who can't stop giggling, and a very androgynous college-aged person who appears bored. He then notices, with a jolt, a guy who appears to be his own age, dark-skinned and handsome, and has the fleeting thought of what would be the harm in talking to this guy? when another young guy, broad-shouldered and brunette, hands him a drink and sits across from him, and they smile familiarly and affectionately at each other.

With a mental sigh, he tunes back into the conversation at the table, which seems to be heading toward dancing. Brittany is eager to start dancing and seems to be trying to convince Tina and Unique to come with her. Blaine glances uncertainly around. No one else is dancing, perhaps because it is still pretty early and not even that crowded yet, and he shares Unique's reluctance to be the first one out there. Which is…unusual for him. He loves to be the center of attention, but something about his restlessness makes him not in the mood to dance.

They sit awkwardly for awhile, finishing their drinks in a dancing stalemate. As Tina gets up to get them another round, Karofsky comes over, his date next to him. The date smiles a huge, used car salesman smile and says enthusiastically, "I just wanted to say hi to Dave's friends. It means a lot to me that you'd come here with him so we could have a chance to meet!"

Blaine wants to say that he thinks it's completely tacky to meet an underaged guy in a gay bar, but reigns in his attitude (it had been Karofsky's choice to meet here, and it's not as though there were many other discrete places they could go). He can't explain why he just doesn't like this guy, who is now shaking hands with all of them, introducing himself as Henry or Harry or Harvey or something. He suppresses a scowl when Karofsky and Hervry join them and listens idly as everyone around him talks. Blaine keeps quiet, scanning the room, sipping his drink as quickly as possible.

When he finishes his second cosmopolitan, he sets the drink down with the force of finality and says, "Alright, who's up for dancing?" standing and reaching for Unique's hands. Brittany springs up, immediately eager, Tina grins uncertainly at Unique, who appears hesitant. "Come on," Blaine urges, "It's high time to show you off, gorgeous lady."

The flattery seems to work, for Unique rises, all swaying hips and elegant legs. Blaine glances at Karofsky, whose date is asking him if he likes to dance. Karofsky shrugs and Blaine is pretty sure he's lying when he says he's okay at dancing but doesn't like it much, and Hervry seems relieved to stay at the table.

Soon, they're dancing, in a group, switching partners around, the four of them laughing and enjoying themselves immensely. People watch them without much interest—Blaine keeps his eye mostly on that attractive young couple, who are too engrossed in each other to spare a glance, which is really a shame, because the black one has a gorgeous mouth and the white one has big, expressive eyes…

After several songs, the bar is beginning to fill up a little more, and more people seem willing to dance. A few of the drag queens are out first, lip synching and laughing together, then come some skinny college boys who must've come in later, since Blaine didn't notice them before, twisting and rolling their hips in tight jeans and button-ups. A few people eye him, but when they notice he's there with a group of girls, they don't intrude; Blaine doubts they think he's straight, but they might think that the women would intrude.

But after a few more songs and a few breaks to go back to their table a suck down some more drinks, Brittany is dancing with the drag queens, who seem to love her instantly, and Tina is laughing and dancing with the skinny college guys, and Blaine is trying to encourage Unique to approach some people. He thinks about suggesting the drag queens, but then remember what had happened before when he suggested she might share similarities with them, and instead tries to steer her toward the college boys Tina is dancing with.

When they approach them, Tina flings an arm around Blaine and shrieks, "This is my friend Blaine! And this is Unique! Isn't she gorgeous?!"

"Totally!" responds the nearest guy with a grin, who gives Blaine a lascivious once over before saying to Unique, "So pleased to meet you! Tina here tells us she has a boyfriend, and that the cute blonde over there," (he jerks a thumb at Brittany) "is eating muff these days, which is really a shame, because we brought our fag stag with us tonight and there's hardly any girl flesh for him to salivate over, you know?"

"Such a pity," Unique laughs, "Must be what it's like to be you in the real world."

"Oh, honey," the guy simpers exaggeratedly, "There's plenty for me to drool over in the real world, even if I can't touch most of it." He winks roguishly at Blaine and gestures for Unique to say hello to their straight friend, who is wearing hipster glasses, a t-shirt and jeans almost as tight as his gay friends'. Unique casts Blaine an almost panicked look, but he just smiles encouragingly and urges her to approach the straight guy, who smiles happily in greeting and takes her hand. Soon, they're twisting together and talking and laughing.

A few songs and another round later, at Brittany's beckoning, Tina begins to drift over to dance with the drag queens, or, well, mostly with Brittany, really. The drag queens coo and howl delightedly at the way they move together, grinding subtly, looping their arms around each other and twirling. They're laughing, but Blaine finds it oddly pornographic. He watches as Unique dances gracefully with the stag hag and smiles as he realizes a few of the college boys are drifting closer to him. They're definitely good-looking. He would definitely…if he were single…

He heads over and taps Tina on the shoulder. She turns out of Brittany's arms with a grin, "Hey!" she hugs him as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"Hey," he smiles back, "Look, I'm gonna run to the bathroom, keep an eye on Unique, won't you?"

"Sure, sure!" Tina slurs a bit, smiling. It's at this point that Blaine realizes they're going to have to stop drinking, because he doesn't think he can stay here much longer, but they have to be safe to drive home…why did they take so many cars? It had always been Kurt that thought about designated drivers, and Blaine suddenly feels very irresponsible and childish.

In the bathroom, he uses a stall for the sake of his hair-trigger libido all night; he can just see himself getting hard just because someone uses an adjacent urinal or something. He stays in there for a few minutes, cock in hand, trying to decide if he should just rub one out so he can concentrate. On, on anything. In the end, he tries to imagine what Kurt would say if he ever found out that Blaine beat off in the bathroom of Scandals and decides it isn't worth Kurt's certain disgust, so he zips himself back up and exits the stall.

Against his better judgment, he ends up washing his face at the same time as he washes his hands, hoping the cool water will clear his head. He remembers he used to have so much fun when he was drunk, but…maybe the constant anxiety in his belly about Karofsky's date, or guilt about being around so many good-looking guys, it's just not a good night for him. When he's drying his face, he hears the door open behind him.

When he looks in the mirror, he sees Sebastian Smythe.

"You've been in here such a long time, I thought I'd check on you," Sebastian says smoothly, "Since your friends are so busy dancing that I don't think they've even noticed."

"What are you even doing here?" Blaine asks brusquely.

"I'm here with friends," he answers, "They're on a date, so I've stayed out of the way, but I was their ticket in, so they'll be repaying me well," he smirks. Blaine thinks of the hot interracial couple he saw and remembers how they looked about his age and it clicks.

"Right," he folds his arms, "So you still come here, huh?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you don't, what with your ex-boyfriend gone and McKinley completely devoid of anyone attractive. I mean, do they even know how to dress at your school? At least the Dalton uniforms are flattering."

Blaine scowls as the first part of what passed through Sebastian's very shapely mouth registers, "You're mistaken, Kurt and I very much still together."

Eyes widening, Sebastian places a hand against his chest in feigned surprise, "I'm so very sorry, I just assumed that there's no way you two were serious enough to weather that kind of distance. I mean. New York is a big place, and the men are numerous and incredible." He chuckles humorlessly, "Guys like us are common as condoms there."

Still scowling, Blaine answers stiffly, "I'm still the one he wants and he respects me too much to have some kind of meaningless sex with someone else, no matter how much we might miss each other."

"Mmm, yes, he's like that, isn't he? Very high strung about things like honor and fidelity. I imagine it keeps you in line pretty well, knowing the way he'll shriek if you step out on him."

Blaine snaps harshly, "I don't cheat on my boyfriend because I love him, not because I'm afraid of him!"

"Interesting," Sebastian muses after a pause, "So you've decided to straighten up and fly right?"

"Whatever that means," Blaine grumbles.

"I just figured, after the way we…bantered last year, that maybe I might finally have a chance with you after the Boy Wonder went off to college…oh, wait, that's right, he didn't make it in, did he?"

At this, Blaine has had enough and tries to leave, but Sebastian manages to stop him with a finger to his sternum, which…jesus it's unfair how when it comes to Sebastian, he's always felt the need to stand up and listen. He'll admit it, Sebastian compels him, fascinates him, and…"stand up" really isn't a metaphor anymore, Sebastian…turns him on. Has always turned him on.

"You will never convince me that you're at all satisfied with the sex you get from the Boy Wonder," Sebastian purrs, "I mean, is he even man enough to get it up?"

"Of course he is—" Blaine answers roughly, batting away Sebastian's hand, but he stays, just half a foot away from him, gazing at him.

"But I'll bet he's gentle," Sebastian says quietly, "And I know you, Blaine, better than he thinks I do. Better than even you think I do. I know what you need, and I'm sure he can't give it to you." His eyebrows twitch meaningfully.

"For your information, he can top just fine."

Sebastian grins, "So I am right? You are a power bottom."

"We're versatile," Blaine retorts weakly, his eyes darting away.

In truth, they'd really only tried sex twice. Or, well, anal sex, which Blaine has to remind himself is only a kind of sex, that there are other ways to do it, and they've done those other ways plenty of times. There was that disastrous first attempt, before the musical, in which Kurt had ended up hurt; at the time, Blaine had no idea how much pain Kurt was in, or he certainly wouldn't have continued, but…it had been like a dream, finally pushing himself inside his boyfriend, this man he loved, and feeling so excited and warm and impossibly connected. It was so overwhelming that, honestly, he had barely lasted a few minutes. Though, after realizing Kurt had been gritting his teeth through it, stroking himself desperately though he remained flaccid once the penetration started, he was relieved he'd finished so quickly.

He began to research what they'd done wrong and realized that the porn he'd occasionally watched (though he fought back his shame after every orgasm) had not prepared him for the realities of gay sex. And so, equipped with some new knowledge, when it came time to try again, he was more prepared: condoms (because, he told Kurt, it was always better to be safe than sorry), lube that would work with condoms, and lots of advice for how to make it work, including, going slowly.

Kurt had still been completely gun shy about bottoming again, so Blaine had eagerly volunteered; he wanted to know what it felt like, too. He wanted to experience all of it.

And so, they took their time, with foreplay, with getting Blaine relaxed. They tried it with Blaine on his back, instead of with Kurt bent over like they'd done before. And Kurt wore the condom and they used so much lube, and when Kurt slid inside slowly, Blaine was sure this was even better. He'd never known he could feel so strongly like Kurt was a part of him as when Kurt was inside him, and, horrible pun though it was, he told himself he was so full of love he was about to burst…

And yet, cursing the condom, Kurt went soft.

They tried it repeatedly, going back to foreplay to get him hard, but as soon as he really penetrated Blaine and began to move, he would go soft. They even tried it without the condom, reasoning it would be the last time, that they'd stick to condoms after this point, but…still.

After a frustrated forty minutes, Kurt's breath caught as he murmured miserably, "I think I just don't like anal sex."

And Blaine…"I can…live without it," he'd whispered.

Still, in an attempt to make Blaine happy, Kurt had suggested a handjob and, at the last moment, he pushed himself inside Blaine as he came and Blaine, feeling this, nearly wept, wondering if it would be the last time he would ever feel this level of intimacy with the man he loved.

And since then, they'd discovered all sorts of other ways of having sex. The hands, the mouths (and admittedly, after some practice, Kurt came to give outstanding head), even the frottage, the thigh humping, and Kurt would let him fuck, non-penetratively, between his cheeks…

And it was all good. It was all beautiful, and Kurt was almost radiant with that post-orgasmic bliss in his expression.

And now, Sebastian, still smirking, still appraising him. "Versatile. How lucky for you, it's certainly beneficial to be skilled. But I can tell you're not getting everything you want." His gaze shifts, pointedly, downward.

Blaine shoves him away, finally losing his temper, "I am perfectly content with Kurt, and even if I weren't, I would never touch you."

Sebastian dusts himself off, and gets the last word in as Blaine leaves, "It's not as though you don't want to, Anderson…"

Blaine's head is a mess, full of roiling thoughts, and he pushes through the people, trying to find his friends, and then, he sees them, Unique still dancing and chatting with the fag stag, but there's…Brittany and Tina, off in the corner, making out, to the squeals of mingled disgust and fascination of the gay men watching, and Karofsky, still at the table with Hervry, but there's his hand, high up on the older man's thigh, and as Blaine watches, he's squeezing the bulge there, and…oh god, is this ever a mess.

He's outside in the fresh air, ignoring the warning of the bouncer that he might not be allowed back in, and he can't stop thinking of Sebastian's smug and cocky and infuriating and gorgeous face.

Sebastian, who had insinuated in texts all last year that he fucked like a stallion, and was hung like one, too.

Because the last thing Blaine wants to admit to anyone, not Sebastian, not himself, and never to Kurt, is that he misses what he isn't getting. That sometimes, when he watches the porn (no more bareback, though) that he's watching now more than ever, he thinks about fucking or being fucked by someone else, who loves it as much as he does.

And that sometimes, it feels like more than fantasy. Sometimes, he really, really needs it to be real.

And the fact that it can never, will never, be Kurt…makes him crazy.

Additional A/N: Chapter titles from Adele, "Skyfall," St. Vincent, "Paris is Burning," and Purity Ring, "Cartographist."