fic: we run the night (part 9/10)
Title: We Run the Night
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1800 + (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: at least i think it'll be 10 parts. i'm sorry this is so late, i've been working on other things, but i never forget about this, i promise! and i've fleshed out the next chapter so that should be up soonish and there mIGHT be an epilogue idk. thanks to anyone who still actually reads this and my baby girl jordan for being my fabulous beta *____*
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
--
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much it had hurt when he got his text message, about half an hour after stressing over the many (some plausible, some not so much) reasons Kurt could be late, informing him that he wouldn’t be there at all. He didn’t even get a real reason - he was just ‘held up’.
He thought that might have hurt more than anything.
But like he always did when he was hurt or angry, he pushed his feelings back, sending Kurt back an amicable, friendly reply (as he supposed that was all he wanted from him now, if anything) and throwing himself into his choreography.
It was coming along quite well if he did say so himself. It was a bit tricky, at first, trying to put the feelings and connection he had with the song into movement but once he got the initial genesis of movement down it was easy to transition the story through and work out some really amazing movements.
He struggled a little, getting Myra and Seth to work together. They were both polar opposites - which was why he had chosen them in the first place, of course - but in this case, opposites didn’t exactly attract. Myra was so constantly on the offensive, found it hard to take critique whilst being unable to hold herself back from giving Seth nothing but. And when Seth got upset he got moody and uncooperative and it was like a never ending circle of misery.
But on the days he did get them to work together...
It was magic.
--
It was a Friday when Ms Amy, his contemporary instructor, sat in on his class. Blaine was stressed enough as it was, and struggled to keep it all together but forced a smile as he led Myra and Seth through the new steps he’d been working on.
He hummed softly under his breath as he showed them the sequence, them following behind. Once they knew it he sat back and watched his idea unfold, grinning as they copied it perfectly.
“Excellent, guys,” he enthused. “Seth - just make sure you get a really good hold on her waist for the lift... here, like this.” He demonstrated the new position, holding Myra up effortlessly for the lift. Seth nodded and they practiced again, going from the top.
As he watched, Blaine sat beside his teacher, casting nervous looks at her every few minutes - though she said nothing, her expression composed as she watched.
“Thanks, guys,” he said when their rehearsal was up, “same time tomorrow, yeah?”
After they left, Ms Amy stayed and Blaine took the opportunity to ask her, a little nervously.
“So, what did you think?”
Ms Amy smiled, her eyes soft as she spoke. “I think it’s brilliant.” Blaine let out an immediate exhale of relief, warmth flooding his chest at her praise. “I’ll admit I was a little wary of the idea at first but it’s so... classy, and refined, in a way I wasn’t expecting - it could have been composed by any of us, Blaine, you have a natural gift for choreography.”
Blaine positively beamed. “Thank you, ma’am,” he breathed.
“You know,” Ms Amy continued, resting a gentle hand on his arm, “it’s very hard to make a career in this business, Blaine, but I really think you have what it takes...”
Blaine felt excitement stab up his chest - he had been waiting to hear these words for a long time now.
“... to be a really amazing choreographer, or teacher - look how well your dancers learn from you!”
And just like that, the excitement in his chest fizzled right out, replaced by the cold hard weight of truth.
A choreographer.
A teacher.
Not a dancer.
“I... thank you,” Blaine said quickly, wanting to shut her up - he couldn’t take any more. Ms Amy smiled gently, touching his arm once more.
“I look forward to seeing the finished product, Blaine,” she said sweetly before leaving. Blaine took a moment to compose himself before grabbing his bag and hiking it over his shoulder, running out of the dance block and not stopping till he reached his room.
--
Blaine felt like he’d been crying for hours.
There was just something achingly raw about crying. He felt so bare, so vulnerable.
So pathetic.
If crying solved anything wouldn’t the world be in floods by now?
But at least it got that horrible lump out of his chest.
His head hurt and he was thankful for Seth’s religious study habits as he rolled over and relaxed in the silence of the room, trying to clear his thoughts.
God, it wasn’t like he’d said anything he didn’t know. Of course he was never going to be a dancer. How many people wanted to be dancers again? Thousands. Thousands of beautiful girls and boys with better technique, better feet, more turn out, better stage presence... what hopes did he have? It was a long shot even coming here - he knew that.
It didn’t hurt any less hearing it, though.
He didn’t want to be a choreographer! He wanted to be a fucking dancer! He wanted to be amazing, he wanted to fly. He wanted little kids to have posters of him on their walls and say “wow, I wish I was him”. He wanted people to favourite youtube videos of his performances, he wanted somebody to look up to him and think, if he can do it, I can do it, too. He wanted to inspire - to create, to learn, to grow, to perform.
And here was his favourite teacher, telling him that was never going to happen.
He’d been told that his whole life, but forgive him, if he wanted a little faith from someone he actually thought believed in him.
Why did he ever bother?
--
With the showcase fast approaching, Blaine threw himself harder than ever into his work. He was struggling to balance his classwork with finalising the choreography and making time to practice and sleep, too. He was getting frustrated with Myra and Seth quicker than usual, finding it harder to control his temper. He knew it was getting on their nerves, too, the way he was so quick to lash out, but he couldn’t help it.
He was just tired - tired of wanting everything so badly and working so hard for it, but of it being permanently out of reach. It had been his parents approval, now dancing... and dare he say it, Kurt too. He still saw him in his sleep but the dreams were far less pleasant now and he only ever woke up lonely and sad. He still texted him, sometimes, but Kurt was busy, too - he had his own life, one that Blaine still secretly longed to be a part of.
He just didn’t know if it was his place anymore.
(But had it really ever been?)
About three weeks from the performance Blaine sent Kurt a subtle reminder about his performance, giving him the details and the dates. To his surprise, Kurt sent back a completely enthusiastic reply, promising to be there.
I’m really excited to see it, Blaine. I know how much it means to you... and that means something to me.
But what did it mean to him, was what Blaine wanted to know.
But still, he’d promised to go, and more than anything, that made Blaine determined to put on a good show.
Maybe then he’d understand what Blaine had been trying to tell him, all this time.
--
Over the next three weeks Blaine pushed himself harder than ever, making sure his routine was perfect.
At UCLA Kurt was also busy, trying frantically to finish all his assignments on time and juggle the pressures of keeping up with classwork, his singing classes, his dance lessons as well as Dave shooting glares at him whenever he got the opportunity. He didn’t make him feel unsafe or anything - Kurt was sure those days were behind him. But their break up hadn’t exactly been amicable...
And Kurt didn’t blame him. He felt awful, like he’s basically used him to try and get over Blaine. And it had worked - or at least, he thought it had. And then he saw him again and all those walls he’d built up around his feelings had just shattered.
There was just something about Blaine... and there always would be, for Kurt.
He was both nervous and excited for his show. He was excited to see the undoubtedly amazing piece he had made, and even more so to see Blaine. But the nerves were another thing entirely - last time he was faced with him he had run away, confronted with the force of his feelings. He knew he had to talk to him, properly, face to face. Even if Blaine didn’t feel the same way... and in all honesty, Kurt wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
It was about two or three days from the performance when Kurt was sitting in a lecture, only to receive a text message from none other than Jake Puckerman. He knew basically nothing about him, other than that he was Puck’s brother, and just as rebellious as he was. Confused, he snuck a glance at the text.
call me ASAP it’s urgent
Kurt frowned before putting his phone away, wondering what could possibly be so urgent that he would need to speak to Kurt.
He called him at lunch and he picked up on the first ring.
“We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important,” he assured Kurt, “but we got the DL for the Streets.”
Kurt smiled in reminiscence. Puck had always had connections with the guys who operated the intel, and was always the first in on the location and dates for the event, way before it was usually announced. It was only natural that Jake would be able to get that info for them too.
“Go on,” Kurt prompted.
“It’s this Saturday night,” Jake continued, sounding worried.
“Exciting,” Kurt enthused, wondering what the problem was. “Don’t stress, you guys’ll be ama-”
“We can’t perform.”
“What?” The New Directions always performed. In rain or shine, with blisters and broken bones and broken hearts, they always performed. They were a show choir, at heart, but the Streets was much more fun than any competition. Although not strictly regulated, even Mr Schue had to agree - it brought them together. It was what made them a family.
The closest thing a lot of them got to having a real one.
“We don’t have enough members to perform... and that’s why I’m calling you.”
Oh.
Suddenly, it all clicked into place.
“You want me to perform with you guys, don’t you?”
“Kurt... please...” Jake pleaded desperately, “we need you.”
On Saturday.
The night of Blaine’s performance.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1800 + (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: at least i think it'll be 10 parts. i'm sorry this is so late, i've been working on other things, but i never forget about this, i promise! and i've fleshed out the next chapter so that should be up soonish and there mIGHT be an epilogue idk. thanks to anyone who still actually reads this and my baby girl jordan for being my fabulous beta *____*
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
--
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much it had hurt when he got his text message, about half an hour after stressing over the many (some plausible, some not so much) reasons Kurt could be late, informing him that he wouldn’t be there at all. He didn’t even get a real reason - he was just ‘held up’.
He thought that might have hurt more than anything.
But like he always did when he was hurt or angry, he pushed his feelings back, sending Kurt back an amicable, friendly reply (as he supposed that was all he wanted from him now, if anything) and throwing himself into his choreography.
It was coming along quite well if he did say so himself. It was a bit tricky, at first, trying to put the feelings and connection he had with the song into movement but once he got the initial genesis of movement down it was easy to transition the story through and work out some really amazing movements.
He struggled a little, getting Myra and Seth to work together. They were both polar opposites - which was why he had chosen them in the first place, of course - but in this case, opposites didn’t exactly attract. Myra was so constantly on the offensive, found it hard to take critique whilst being unable to hold herself back from giving Seth nothing but. And when Seth got upset he got moody and uncooperative and it was like a never ending circle of misery.
But on the days he did get them to work together...
It was magic.
--
It was a Friday when Ms Amy, his contemporary instructor, sat in on his class. Blaine was stressed enough as it was, and struggled to keep it all together but forced a smile as he led Myra and Seth through the new steps he’d been working on.
He hummed softly under his breath as he showed them the sequence, them following behind. Once they knew it he sat back and watched his idea unfold, grinning as they copied it perfectly.
“Excellent, guys,” he enthused. “Seth - just make sure you get a really good hold on her waist for the lift... here, like this.” He demonstrated the new position, holding Myra up effortlessly for the lift. Seth nodded and they practiced again, going from the top.
As he watched, Blaine sat beside his teacher, casting nervous looks at her every few minutes - though she said nothing, her expression composed as she watched.
“Thanks, guys,” he said when their rehearsal was up, “same time tomorrow, yeah?”
After they left, Ms Amy stayed and Blaine took the opportunity to ask her, a little nervously.
“So, what did you think?”
Ms Amy smiled, her eyes soft as she spoke. “I think it’s brilliant.” Blaine let out an immediate exhale of relief, warmth flooding his chest at her praise. “I’ll admit I was a little wary of the idea at first but it’s so... classy, and refined, in a way I wasn’t expecting - it could have been composed by any of us, Blaine, you have a natural gift for choreography.”
Blaine positively beamed. “Thank you, ma’am,” he breathed.
“You know,” Ms Amy continued, resting a gentle hand on his arm, “it’s very hard to make a career in this business, Blaine, but I really think you have what it takes...”
Blaine felt excitement stab up his chest - he had been waiting to hear these words for a long time now.
“... to be a really amazing choreographer, or teacher - look how well your dancers learn from you!”
And just like that, the excitement in his chest fizzled right out, replaced by the cold hard weight of truth.
A choreographer.
A teacher.
Not a dancer.
“I... thank you,” Blaine said quickly, wanting to shut her up - he couldn’t take any more. Ms Amy smiled gently, touching his arm once more.
“I look forward to seeing the finished product, Blaine,” she said sweetly before leaving. Blaine took a moment to compose himself before grabbing his bag and hiking it over his shoulder, running out of the dance block and not stopping till he reached his room.
--
Blaine felt like he’d been crying for hours.
There was just something achingly raw about crying. He felt so bare, so vulnerable.
So pathetic.
If crying solved anything wouldn’t the world be in floods by now?
But at least it got that horrible lump out of his chest.
His head hurt and he was thankful for Seth’s religious study habits as he rolled over and relaxed in the silence of the room, trying to clear his thoughts.
God, it wasn’t like he’d said anything he didn’t know. Of course he was never going to be a dancer. How many people wanted to be dancers again? Thousands. Thousands of beautiful girls and boys with better technique, better feet, more turn out, better stage presence... what hopes did he have? It was a long shot even coming here - he knew that.
It didn’t hurt any less hearing it, though.
He didn’t want to be a choreographer! He wanted to be a fucking dancer! He wanted to be amazing, he wanted to fly. He wanted little kids to have posters of him on their walls and say “wow, I wish I was him”. He wanted people to favourite youtube videos of his performances, he wanted somebody to look up to him and think, if he can do it, I can do it, too. He wanted to inspire - to create, to learn, to grow, to perform.
And here was his favourite teacher, telling him that was never going to happen.
He’d been told that his whole life, but forgive him, if he wanted a little faith from someone he actually thought believed in him.
Why did he ever bother?
--
With the showcase fast approaching, Blaine threw himself harder than ever into his work. He was struggling to balance his classwork with finalising the choreography and making time to practice and sleep, too. He was getting frustrated with Myra and Seth quicker than usual, finding it harder to control his temper. He knew it was getting on their nerves, too, the way he was so quick to lash out, but he couldn’t help it.
He was just tired - tired of wanting everything so badly and working so hard for it, but of it being permanently out of reach. It had been his parents approval, now dancing... and dare he say it, Kurt too. He still saw him in his sleep but the dreams were far less pleasant now and he only ever woke up lonely and sad. He still texted him, sometimes, but Kurt was busy, too - he had his own life, one that Blaine still secretly longed to be a part of.
He just didn’t know if it was his place anymore.
(But had it really ever been?)
About three weeks from the performance Blaine sent Kurt a subtle reminder about his performance, giving him the details and the dates. To his surprise, Kurt sent back a completely enthusiastic reply, promising to be there.
I’m really excited to see it, Blaine. I know how much it means to you... and that means something to me.
But what did it mean to him, was what Blaine wanted to know.
But still, he’d promised to go, and more than anything, that made Blaine determined to put on a good show.
Maybe then he’d understand what Blaine had been trying to tell him, all this time.
--
Over the next three weeks Blaine pushed himself harder than ever, making sure his routine was perfect.
At UCLA Kurt was also busy, trying frantically to finish all his assignments on time and juggle the pressures of keeping up with classwork, his singing classes, his dance lessons as well as Dave shooting glares at him whenever he got the opportunity. He didn’t make him feel unsafe or anything - Kurt was sure those days were behind him. But their break up hadn’t exactly been amicable...
And Kurt didn’t blame him. He felt awful, like he’s basically used him to try and get over Blaine. And it had worked - or at least, he thought it had. And then he saw him again and all those walls he’d built up around his feelings had just shattered.
There was just something about Blaine... and there always would be, for Kurt.
He was both nervous and excited for his show. He was excited to see the undoubtedly amazing piece he had made, and even more so to see Blaine. But the nerves were another thing entirely - last time he was faced with him he had run away, confronted with the force of his feelings. He knew he had to talk to him, properly, face to face. Even if Blaine didn’t feel the same way... and in all honesty, Kurt wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
It was about two or three days from the performance when Kurt was sitting in a lecture, only to receive a text message from none other than Jake Puckerman. He knew basically nothing about him, other than that he was Puck’s brother, and just as rebellious as he was. Confused, he snuck a glance at the text.
call me ASAP it’s urgent
Kurt frowned before putting his phone away, wondering what could possibly be so urgent that he would need to speak to Kurt.
He called him at lunch and he picked up on the first ring.
“We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important,” he assured Kurt, “but we got the DL for the Streets.”
Kurt smiled in reminiscence. Puck had always had connections with the guys who operated the intel, and was always the first in on the location and dates for the event, way before it was usually announced. It was only natural that Jake would be able to get that info for them too.
“Go on,” Kurt prompted.
“It’s this Saturday night,” Jake continued, sounding worried.
“Exciting,” Kurt enthused, wondering what the problem was. “Don’t stress, you guys’ll be ama-”
“We can’t perform.”
“What?” The New Directions always performed. In rain or shine, with blisters and broken bones and broken hearts, they always performed. They were a show choir, at heart, but the Streets was much more fun than any competition. Although not strictly regulated, even Mr Schue had to agree - it brought them together. It was what made them a family.
The closest thing a lot of them got to having a real one.
“We don’t have enough members to perform... and that’s why I’m calling you.”
Oh.
Suddenly, it all clicked into place.
“You want me to perform with you guys, don’t you?”
“Kurt... please...” Jake pleaded desperately, “we need you.”
On Saturday.
The night of Blaine’s performance.