fic: we run the night (part 8/?)
Title: We Run the Night
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2200+ (this part)
Summary: In which Blaine and Kurt are members of rival dance crews. Sparks fly when they watch each other perform at the biggest dance event of the year.
A/N: SEE IT'S NOT ABANDONED hehehe i'm so sorry it's so late, guys, i've had about a thousand other things blah blah blah you get it. heheh thanks to my angel jordan for beta-ing xoxo
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
The song tapped at his every thought as he paced through the next day.
He drank his coffee too quickly in the morning and soothed his burnt throat on the few spoons of yoghurt he could manage. He tried to take up conversation with Seth, but found his attention wandering.
My reoccurring dreams…
His morning classes seemed longer than usual and Blaine found himself aching for the afternoon where he might find release in the studio. After lunch he was restless in anticipation and when it was time for his contemporary class he stretched quickly and was first in the door.
“Eager today, are we?” his instructor teased but Blaine saw no mocking in her bright eyes.
He couldn’t even lie.
--
After class he was called over to Mr Hale’s office. Mr Hale was waiting for him at his usual desk and Blaine sat in the study chair across from it, sitting up as straight as he could, smiling politely back at his teacher.
“Good morning, Blaine,” he greeted him politely.
“Morning, Sir,” Blaine returned.
“I was just wondering if you’d given any more thought to what you might like to do,” Mr Hale began in his usual way; straight to the point. “Just because we need to start practices as soon as possible.”
Blaine nodded. “Of course, Sir,” he agreed. “And I have.”
Mr Hale raised an eyebrow. “I’m happy to hear it,” he said enthusiastically, leaning forward.
“What have you decided?”
“A contemporary piece,” Blaine said, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden - what if he didn’t like it? - “A pas de deux between a man and a woman… to Come Here Boy by Imogen Heap.”
“A contemporary pas de deux,” Mr Hale hummed. “Interesting.”
“I thought so,” Blaine said through pursed lips, sensing a little bit of hesitance in Mr Hale’s demeanour.
“So you want to do a piece to that song?”
Blaine nodded, swallowing anxiously.
“And why this song?” is what Blaine is expecting to hear. Mr Hale leaned forward, his eyes serious and interested. “And what does this song mean to you?”
Blaine felt taken aback. He certainly wasn’t expecting that…
“Um…” he tried to wrack his startled brain, “well, what I really liked about that song is how raw…” yes, raw was good. Intelligent words, Blaine, he reminded himself. Do not say it’s about sex, do not say it’s about sex… “Raw and… sensual-” fuck, “and intimate.” Better. “Because… so many songs today are just about partying or getting laid…” Mr Hale raised his eyebrows and
Blaine felt his cheeks flare up, “so I wanted to do a piece that was not so much about sex but… self discovery… with somebody else.”
Mr Hale tapped his chin lightly, his eyes thoughtful. Blaine stayed very still, trying not to let his anxiousness show.
Please don’t say I’ve screwed this up.
“I really like it,” Mr Hale said at last. Blaine exhaled in relief, trying to keep his expression calm. “I think it’s a very interesting - and mature -“ oh god, “idea. Did you decide on which students you wanted to use?”
Blaine bit his lip. No, he hadn’t really thought of that yet…
Sensing his hesitance, Mr Hale gave him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, Blaine. Just make sure you make the right choice.”
Blaine nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr Hale smiled. “You’re welcome, Blaine. You may go.”
--
The next day Blaine made a special effort to get to class early, finding a quiet space in the corner of the room. He slid to the ground under the pretence of stretching as he watched the students slowly file in. He had thought more about the type of dancers he would need for the performance. What he really wanted to do was something unique, something special. He had toyed around with the idea of constructing it as a male/male duet, or between two girls, but decided that this would be more likely to be teacher approved, much to his dismay.
He couldn’t let that stop him from trying something new, though.
He wanted something crazy. Women lifting men; the man in distress, and pining for someone beautiful. Woman as the saviour. Something to make people think.
It was all so messy and un-concrete in his mind - too many ideas.
For now, he had to find a strong female lead.
But who?
He was sure that from his class the most obvious candidate would be Lucy or Taylor or any of the other teacher’s favourites. Those perfect, long legged, petite, angelic looking girls.
But they weren’t what he wanted.
He wanted strong, unique, powerful.
But where was he going to find that?
Blaine had to admit that he wasn’t particularly familiar with all the students in his class.
Call it ignorance, or self-absorption, but his own self was really his main focus. Rather than watching what everyone else was doing and trying to measure up, he’d always preferred just to push himself as hard as he could and hope he was doing alright. And so, he really only knew the girls and boys who pushed to the front of the barre, basking in their teacher’s praise.
So today he took to the back of the barre and hung in the back of the class, trying to watch the others as they went through their usual exercises. It was harder than usual to keep up when he was trying to watch everything at once, but he made it through the lesson without any major stuff ups.
Almost.
They were marking a waltz and he was watching a girl whose name he thought might have been Martha, when due to lack of concentration and sloppy footwork, he stumbled backwards, crashing into another body.
“Watch yourself,” the girl snapped, glaring with brown eyes so fierce they burned against Blaine’s skin. Blaine raised an eyebrow, murmuring an apology as he moved back slightly, shifting his concentration in her direction.
She was fast and fiery, he learnt quick enough, her turns aggressive and jumps powerful. She wasn’t quite as strong as he hoped, her extensions lacking slightly, but when she danced it was like she was on fire - she was just so alive and charismatic, he couldn’t believe he had never noticed her before.
He cornered her straight after class.
“Excuse me,” he tapped her shoulder lightly as she took a deep sip of water from her bottle.
She turned with unimpressed eyes.
“Can I help you?” she asked, clearly still annoyed as she recognised him.
“You can, actually,” Blaine said hopefully, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He stuck his hand out in greeting. “I’m very sorry for getting in your way earlier. I’m Blaine.”
“I know who you are,” the girl said, looking a little weary as she shook his hand. “Blaine Anderson, teacher’s favourite…”
“Is that a thing?” he blurted out, flushing with pleasure before he could help himself. She narrowed her eyes.
“No,” she snapped. “Now if you don’t mind I do have somewhere to be-“
“I’ll be just a minute,” Blaine said, reaching out to stop her as she tried to turn away. “I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask me what?” she asked tightly.
“What’s your name?”
She pursed her lips.
“Myra,” she answered after a moment. “Myra Lewis. Can I go now?”
“Just one more thing, Myra Lewis,” Blaine grinned. She sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Go on,” she urged.
“I was wondering,” Blaine ventured, “if you wanted to be in my dance?”
“Your dance?” Myra asked, her brow crinkling in confusion.
“I was asked to make a dance for the big end of year performance,” Blaine admitted, a little bashful now that he knew what she thought of him. She rolled her eyes and he could practically here the of fucking course in her scoff. But that wasn’t the matter at hand. “I was wondering if you would be one of my dancers.”
“Why are you asking me?” she asked, folding her arms. “Wouldn’t you rather Lucy? Or Shelby?”
Blaine frowned, wondering absently if she felt as unnoticed by her teachers as by him.
“I’m not asking them, am I?” he said bluntly. “I’m asking you. Yes or no?”
“I don’t want your pity-“
“Believe me,” Blaine cut in with a short laugh. “This isn’t about pity.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes narrowed as she turned the words over in her head. Blaine waited with silent plead, begging her to just give in to what they both wanted.
“Fine,” she said and Blaine’s insides instantly broke out in triumph, “I’ll be in your little dance.”
“Thank you so mu-“
“Under one condition,” she cut in sharply, and Blaine stilled, waiting. “No pointe shoes.”
Blaine beamed, exhaling in relief.
“No pointe shoes,” he promised.
--
By the time he headed back to his room that afternoon his heart was beating wildly with excitement, his nerves racing under his skin. He grinned as he flopped down on his bed, feeling boneless in his exhaustion, but still thrilled with the outcome of the day.
“Someone’s happy,” Seth noted from where he was laying on his bed, flipping through a book absently.
“I found dancer number one!” Blaine told him cheerily. “She’s really good, too, and she had some really cool ideas. Now, I just need to find her a partner…” Seth raised his eyebrows as
Blaine went on, “she’s strong and powerful so I want a male foil for her… someone really soft and sweet… graceful… maybe lanky and thin? Tall because she’s short…”
Seth sighed loudly as Blaine continued his musing out loud. He spread his long legs in front of him, giving him a pointed look. As Blaine still didn’t catch on he got to his feet, shaking his head as he crossed the room, putting his book away.
“If you need me,” he said, half amused, half irritated, “I’ll be in the library.”
“Okay,” Blaine said absently, his eyes drawing over him as he turned to leave, head held high and gracefully indignant as he exited. “Wait!” he called suddenly, the lines drawing together in his head.
“What?” Seth huffed, sticking his head back through the door. Blaine grinned knowingly.
“Got any plans for the end of year concert?”
Seth’s lips twisted up into a soft, amused smile.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
--
As if his day couldn’t get any better, later after his shower as he lay in bed watching old Friends re-runs, his phone buzzed with a new text.
It was from Kurt.
Hey, the message read, I’m going to be in town this weekend. Want to catch up?
Blaine’s fingers shook with excitement as he hurriedly typed back.
I would love to! How’s Saturday?
His heart pattered frantically in the wake of Kurt’s last reply.
Sounds perfect <3
He absolutely did not toss his phone aside, rolling over onto his stomach, squealing into his pillow.
He didn’t, but he wouldn’t blame himself if he did.
Since when was life so good?
--
Now that both his leads were chosen a huge weight had been lifted. He had something concrete.
Now he could start to create.
He decided to head over to over to the dance halls to try and map out some choreography before
Kurt arrived.
There was something surreally beautiful at the way the late afternoon light bathed the hall in such soft, warm colours and he grinned as he strode across the room, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun hugged against his skin. He turned the music on and took a deep breath as images of what he wanted swirled around his mind. He relaxed his muscles and let the music take over, guiding him into movements.
He lost himself in them.
--
As soon as he pulled up at the school, Kurt knew where to find him.
He may not know him, but he knew him.
So he headed straight over to the dance block, smiling as his suspicions were correct and he caught sight of him as he peeked through the window that led into the first hall.
Kurt’s eyes softened as he took in the visual in front of him, the power, the strength of the boy moving across the room, jumping and turning with such passion that it was practically spitting from him, pouring through the music and crackling like electricity through the air.
He was beautiful, like nothing Kurt had ever seen.
Tears pricked at his eyelids and he knew he couldn’t stay, not even for a moment.
He turned on his heel, the vision of him still branded across his mind, the song still ringing in his ears, lingering and haunting, even as he slammed the door of his car shut and took off back towards home.
He thought he would be able to do it, thought he’d be strong enough to at least try. It was pathetic, the way he couldn’t get over him; the way he’d started dating Dave because he was tired of feeling so alone, so unwanted; the way his dreams were haunted by the caress of broad, calloused hands and long dancing limbs.
But then again, he’d never been good at moving on.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2200+ (this part)
Summary: In which Blaine and Kurt are members of rival dance crews. Sparks fly when they watch each other perform at the biggest dance event of the year.
A/N: SEE IT'S NOT ABANDONED hehehe i'm so sorry it's so late, guys, i've had about a thousand other things blah blah blah you get it. heheh thanks to my angel jordan for beta-ing xoxo
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
The song tapped at his every thought as he paced through the next day.
He drank his coffee too quickly in the morning and soothed his burnt throat on the few spoons of yoghurt he could manage. He tried to take up conversation with Seth, but found his attention wandering.
My reoccurring dreams…
His morning classes seemed longer than usual and Blaine found himself aching for the afternoon where he might find release in the studio. After lunch he was restless in anticipation and when it was time for his contemporary class he stretched quickly and was first in the door.
“Eager today, are we?” his instructor teased but Blaine saw no mocking in her bright eyes.
He couldn’t even lie.
--
After class he was called over to Mr Hale’s office. Mr Hale was waiting for him at his usual desk and Blaine sat in the study chair across from it, sitting up as straight as he could, smiling politely back at his teacher.
“Good morning, Blaine,” he greeted him politely.
“Morning, Sir,” Blaine returned.
“I was just wondering if you’d given any more thought to what you might like to do,” Mr Hale began in his usual way; straight to the point. “Just because we need to start practices as soon as possible.”
Blaine nodded. “Of course, Sir,” he agreed. “And I have.”
Mr Hale raised an eyebrow. “I’m happy to hear it,” he said enthusiastically, leaning forward.
“What have you decided?”
“A contemporary piece,” Blaine said, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden - what if he didn’t like it? - “A pas de deux between a man and a woman… to Come Here Boy by Imogen Heap.”
“A contemporary pas de deux,” Mr Hale hummed. “Interesting.”
“I thought so,” Blaine said through pursed lips, sensing a little bit of hesitance in Mr Hale’s demeanour.
“So you want to do a piece to that song?”
Blaine nodded, swallowing anxiously.
“And why this song?” is what Blaine is expecting to hear. Mr Hale leaned forward, his eyes serious and interested. “And what does this song mean to you?”
Blaine felt taken aback. He certainly wasn’t expecting that…
“Um…” he tried to wrack his startled brain, “well, what I really liked about that song is how raw…” yes, raw was good. Intelligent words, Blaine, he reminded himself. Do not say it’s about sex, do not say it’s about sex… “Raw and… sensual-” fuck, “and intimate.” Better. “Because… so many songs today are just about partying or getting laid…” Mr Hale raised his eyebrows and
Blaine felt his cheeks flare up, “so I wanted to do a piece that was not so much about sex but… self discovery… with somebody else.”
Mr Hale tapped his chin lightly, his eyes thoughtful. Blaine stayed very still, trying not to let his anxiousness show.
Please don’t say I’ve screwed this up.
“I really like it,” Mr Hale said at last. Blaine exhaled in relief, trying to keep his expression calm. “I think it’s a very interesting - and mature -“ oh god, “idea. Did you decide on which students you wanted to use?”
Blaine bit his lip. No, he hadn’t really thought of that yet…
Sensing his hesitance, Mr Hale gave him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, Blaine. Just make sure you make the right choice.”
Blaine nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr Hale smiled. “You’re welcome, Blaine. You may go.”
--
The next day Blaine made a special effort to get to class early, finding a quiet space in the corner of the room. He slid to the ground under the pretence of stretching as he watched the students slowly file in. He had thought more about the type of dancers he would need for the performance. What he really wanted to do was something unique, something special. He had toyed around with the idea of constructing it as a male/male duet, or between two girls, but decided that this would be more likely to be teacher approved, much to his dismay.
He couldn’t let that stop him from trying something new, though.
He wanted something crazy. Women lifting men; the man in distress, and pining for someone beautiful. Woman as the saviour. Something to make people think.
It was all so messy and un-concrete in his mind - too many ideas.
For now, he had to find a strong female lead.
But who?
He was sure that from his class the most obvious candidate would be Lucy or Taylor or any of the other teacher’s favourites. Those perfect, long legged, petite, angelic looking girls.
But they weren’t what he wanted.
He wanted strong, unique, powerful.
But where was he going to find that?
Blaine had to admit that he wasn’t particularly familiar with all the students in his class.
Call it ignorance, or self-absorption, but his own self was really his main focus. Rather than watching what everyone else was doing and trying to measure up, he’d always preferred just to push himself as hard as he could and hope he was doing alright. And so, he really only knew the girls and boys who pushed to the front of the barre, basking in their teacher’s praise.
So today he took to the back of the barre and hung in the back of the class, trying to watch the others as they went through their usual exercises. It was harder than usual to keep up when he was trying to watch everything at once, but he made it through the lesson without any major stuff ups.
Almost.
They were marking a waltz and he was watching a girl whose name he thought might have been Martha, when due to lack of concentration and sloppy footwork, he stumbled backwards, crashing into another body.
“Watch yourself,” the girl snapped, glaring with brown eyes so fierce they burned against Blaine’s skin. Blaine raised an eyebrow, murmuring an apology as he moved back slightly, shifting his concentration in her direction.
She was fast and fiery, he learnt quick enough, her turns aggressive and jumps powerful. She wasn’t quite as strong as he hoped, her extensions lacking slightly, but when she danced it was like she was on fire - she was just so alive and charismatic, he couldn’t believe he had never noticed her before.
He cornered her straight after class.
“Excuse me,” he tapped her shoulder lightly as she took a deep sip of water from her bottle.
She turned with unimpressed eyes.
“Can I help you?” she asked, clearly still annoyed as she recognised him.
“You can, actually,” Blaine said hopefully, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He stuck his hand out in greeting. “I’m very sorry for getting in your way earlier. I’m Blaine.”
“I know who you are,” the girl said, looking a little weary as she shook his hand. “Blaine Anderson, teacher’s favourite…”
“Is that a thing?” he blurted out, flushing with pleasure before he could help himself. She narrowed her eyes.
“No,” she snapped. “Now if you don’t mind I do have somewhere to be-“
“I’ll be just a minute,” Blaine said, reaching out to stop her as she tried to turn away. “I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask me what?” she asked tightly.
“What’s your name?”
She pursed her lips.
“Myra,” she answered after a moment. “Myra Lewis. Can I go now?”
“Just one more thing, Myra Lewis,” Blaine grinned. She sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Go on,” she urged.
“I was wondering,” Blaine ventured, “if you wanted to be in my dance?”
“Your dance?” Myra asked, her brow crinkling in confusion.
“I was asked to make a dance for the big end of year performance,” Blaine admitted, a little bashful now that he knew what she thought of him. She rolled her eyes and he could practically here the of fucking course in her scoff. But that wasn’t the matter at hand. “I was wondering if you would be one of my dancers.”
“Why are you asking me?” she asked, folding her arms. “Wouldn’t you rather Lucy? Or Shelby?”
Blaine frowned, wondering absently if she felt as unnoticed by her teachers as by him.
“I’m not asking them, am I?” he said bluntly. “I’m asking you. Yes or no?”
“I don’t want your pity-“
“Believe me,” Blaine cut in with a short laugh. “This isn’t about pity.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes narrowed as she turned the words over in her head. Blaine waited with silent plead, begging her to just give in to what they both wanted.
“Fine,” she said and Blaine’s insides instantly broke out in triumph, “I’ll be in your little dance.”
“Thank you so mu-“
“Under one condition,” she cut in sharply, and Blaine stilled, waiting. “No pointe shoes.”
Blaine beamed, exhaling in relief.
“No pointe shoes,” he promised.
--
By the time he headed back to his room that afternoon his heart was beating wildly with excitement, his nerves racing under his skin. He grinned as he flopped down on his bed, feeling boneless in his exhaustion, but still thrilled with the outcome of the day.
“Someone’s happy,” Seth noted from where he was laying on his bed, flipping through a book absently.
“I found dancer number one!” Blaine told him cheerily. “She’s really good, too, and she had some really cool ideas. Now, I just need to find her a partner…” Seth raised his eyebrows as
Blaine went on, “she’s strong and powerful so I want a male foil for her… someone really soft and sweet… graceful… maybe lanky and thin? Tall because she’s short…”
Seth sighed loudly as Blaine continued his musing out loud. He spread his long legs in front of him, giving him a pointed look. As Blaine still didn’t catch on he got to his feet, shaking his head as he crossed the room, putting his book away.
“If you need me,” he said, half amused, half irritated, “I’ll be in the library.”
“Okay,” Blaine said absently, his eyes drawing over him as he turned to leave, head held high and gracefully indignant as he exited. “Wait!” he called suddenly, the lines drawing together in his head.
“What?” Seth huffed, sticking his head back through the door. Blaine grinned knowingly.
“Got any plans for the end of year concert?”
Seth’s lips twisted up into a soft, amused smile.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
--
As if his day couldn’t get any better, later after his shower as he lay in bed watching old Friends re-runs, his phone buzzed with a new text.
It was from Kurt.
Hey, the message read, I’m going to be in town this weekend. Want to catch up?
Blaine’s fingers shook with excitement as he hurriedly typed back.
I would love to! How’s Saturday?
His heart pattered frantically in the wake of Kurt’s last reply.
Sounds perfect <3
He absolutely did not toss his phone aside, rolling over onto his stomach, squealing into his pillow.
He didn’t, but he wouldn’t blame himself if he did.
Since when was life so good?
--
Now that both his leads were chosen a huge weight had been lifted. He had something concrete.
Now he could start to create.
He decided to head over to over to the dance halls to try and map out some choreography before
Kurt arrived.
There was something surreally beautiful at the way the late afternoon light bathed the hall in such soft, warm colours and he grinned as he strode across the room, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun hugged against his skin. He turned the music on and took a deep breath as images of what he wanted swirled around his mind. He relaxed his muscles and let the music take over, guiding him into movements.
He lost himself in them.
--
As soon as he pulled up at the school, Kurt knew where to find him.
He may not know him, but he knew him.
So he headed straight over to the dance block, smiling as his suspicions were correct and he caught sight of him as he peeked through the window that led into the first hall.
Kurt’s eyes softened as he took in the visual in front of him, the power, the strength of the boy moving across the room, jumping and turning with such passion that it was practically spitting from him, pouring through the music and crackling like electricity through the air.
He was beautiful, like nothing Kurt had ever seen.
Tears pricked at his eyelids and he knew he couldn’t stay, not even for a moment.
He turned on his heel, the vision of him still branded across his mind, the song still ringing in his ears, lingering and haunting, even as he slammed the door of his car shut and took off back towards home.
He thought he would be able to do it, thought he’d be strong enough to at least try. It was pathetic, the way he couldn’t get over him; the way he’d started dating Dave because he was tired of feeling so alone, so unwanted; the way his dreams were haunted by the caress of broad, calloused hands and long dancing limbs.
But then again, he’d never been good at moving on.