His Perfect Partner (3/?)
Title: His Perfect Partner (3/?)
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Burt/Carole, Tina/Mike, Mercedes/Sam, Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Finn
Spoilers: None, but assume that anything through 3.14 is fair game for inspiration.
Word Count: 3094
Summary: After five disappointing seasons on the show, professional dancer Kurt Hummel finally has his chance at ballroom glory. With actress and fan favorite Kim Schrodinger as his partner, Kurt vows to channel all his focus into winning that mirrorball trophy - distractions, including men, be damned. Enter Blaine Anderson, a gorgeous, confusing pop star who may turn out to be the biggest distraction of them all.
In This Chapter: Kurt catches up with Cedes and Tina, Kim and Kurt rehearse, Kim throws a party, and Blaine finds Kurt in a somewhat embarrassing position.
Author's Note: This is a Dancing with the Stars/Glee crossover AU, in which Kurt grew up dancing and became a professional on the show in his mid-twenties, and Blaine is a pop star with a very private private life. Other familiar Glee faces, some actual DWTS pros, and a couple of OCs appear to round out the cast of characters. I'll be posting twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. I have a master glee post here, or follow my bff's tumblr for updates and some fun multi-media extras that will go along with most chapters. Thanks to
samzgurl,
wintercreek, and
gypsyangel25 for the beta as well as for general cheer-leading and fun times.
“Hey, hey, morning show star!” Mercedes called to Kurt as he walked in to what was apparently a three-person coffee date with Tina on Thursday morning. They’d already bought him a coffee and a bagel with light cream cheese, so he let it slide.
“Don’t tell me you actually got up to watch that drivel, Cedes,” Kurt said, trying his coffee. It was perfect.
“Of course not. I need my beauty sleep. I youtubed it like a sane person. What on earth did that stylist do to your hair?” Mercedes asked.
“I know, right?” Kurt said. “He was completely adorable but a total disaster with a comb and too much hairspray. I think he was too star struck by the pop star to pay attention to what he was doing. I swear, if I’d had to hear one more time how much Blaine Anderson looks like a young Elvis, someone would be missing an eye.”
“This is why we keep Mercedes around. She’s witty, talented, and she doesn’t drool over the celebs,” Tina said.
“No, just the costume guy,” Kurt said, snickering.
“Hey now, Sam is totally hot. And before you start again, he’s also totally straight,” Mercedes said.
“Cedes, sweetheart, his facility with sequins speaks for itself,” Kurt said, rehashing an argument they’d been having roughly once a week since Sam had joined the show.
“Boy, you’re only listening to the way his biceps move under those tight shirts he wears,” she replied. Tina’s gaze was swinging back and forth between them like she was watching a particularly exciting tennis match.
“And I will keep doing so until you prove me wrong. Is there a reason you haven’t hit that yet, exactly?”
“Oooh, yes, Mercedes. You should make that happen,” Tina said.
“So you’re siding with her on the is he or isn’t he debate?” Kurt asked.
“Kurt, the boy dresses like a beach bum most of the time. He may know his way around a sewing machine, but I think that’s just a fluke,” Tina replied, as though that settled the matter. Mercedes just grinned.
“Fine,” Kurt said. “But I refuse to bet on it. I’m already in danger of losing $20 to Kim.”
“About Sam?” Mercedes asked, and Kurt shook his head.
“About Blaine, I bet,” Tina said. “He’s extremely suspicious.”
“And extremely hot,” Mercedes said. “In fact…”
“Don’t say it,” Kurt said, dropping his head into his hands dramatically.
“He’s just your type,” both girls chorused, giggling.
“I hate you both, so much.”
“We love you too, K,” Mercedes said. When Kurt ventured a glance upward, she and Tina were both still grinning.
“Do I need to remind you of what we talked about just last week?” Kurt asked.
“Kurt says he’s swearing off guys this season,” Mercedes told Tina.
“Is he capable of doing that?” Tina asked.
“I’m still right here, you guys,” Kurt said, waving an arm in their direction.
“I doubt it, but it’s cute that he wants to try,” Mercedes continued as though she hadn’t heard him.
“Seriously. Hate. So much,” Kurt muttered, and then took a bite of his bagel. He was tempted to say that he had no idea why he put up with them, but that was patently untrue. He loved his girls to bits, even when they were being impossible. He did, however, need to find a way to keep them from conspiring with Kim, because that way lay madness.
“So anyway,” Mercedes said, mercifully changing back to their first topic, “you were charming and gorgeous, even if your hair was not.”
“I particularly loved that bit about you being honored to work with a partner who really lives up to the title America’s Sweetheart. I swear I could hear the fangirls’ and boys’ hearts going pitter patter after that one,” Tina teased.
“Well, I meant it. Kim absolutely lives up to her reputation. She’s sweet but not boring, and she knows how to work.” Kurt chose to ignore the jab about his growing fan club. He couldn’t help it if people thought he was fabulous.
“You are totally going to wipe the floor with everyone this season, aren’t you?” Mercedes asked.
“You better believe it,” Kurt said, even as Tina shrugged and nodded. “And on that note, I should really get to rehearsal. Perfection waits for no dancer.”
He got up to trade hugs and kisses with the girls, promising to see them soon and call them sooner. Then he headed to the studio, ready for another long and productive day with the woman he was coming to think of as his perfect partner.
***
By the following Tuesday, less than three weeks out from their first performance, Kurt had begun thinking longingly of the first few weeks of rehearsal, when everything was fun and new. Kim had taken to the choreography for the cha cha quickly, so Kurt had begun introducing techniques and sequences for the mambo they would dance during the second week. They’d doubled up on rehearsals, hoping to get the structure of both dances settled, but all it had done was make Kim confused about which steps went with which dance. She was getting frustrated, and Kurt was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. They didn’t have time for any of that, but Kurt knew that if he didn’t find a way to get them back on track, they’d be in even more serious trouble.
“Ok,” Kurt said, watching Kim work through the same 16 counts of choreography over and over. “Time to stop.”
“What?” Kim looked over at him. “We have two hours of rehearsal left. We can’t stop now.”
“We can and we are, at least like this. Come here.” Kurt met her in the middle of the floor and turned her to face the mirror again, his hands on her shoulders. “Now close your eyes and stay put.”
Kim cooperated immediately, her eyes closing and her shoulders dropping, and Kurt felt a rush of affection for her. She was an amazing partner, and it was his job to help her reach her potential. He would use every weapon in his arsenal to make that happen.
“Great. Breathe and relax. I’ll be right back.” Kurt walked over to the sound system and cued up one of his favorite songs. It poured from the speakers, slow and sultry and just a little bit sexy.
“What’s this?” Kim asked. She was smiling, but her eyes were still closed. Kurt walked back over and gathered her up so that their shoulders touched and their temples were pressed together. She went willingly, her trust in him heartening.
“Argentine tango. It’s my favorite.” Kurt began moving them with the music, just swaying back and forth in place to start. “Follow my lead, ok? I want to show you why.”
Kim murmured her assent, settling more fully into his frame. Kurt chanced a step toward her, urging her back. She went easily, letting him guide her. They began moving around the floor in irregular patterns, Kurt led by the music and Kim led by Kurt. Within a few seconds, Kim’s eyes opened so that she could mirror the way Kurt’s feet traced across the floor.
“I started with ballet and jazz, just like you,” Kurt said as they moved. He could feel Kim’s smile where her cheek met his. “Then I tried ballroom, and everything changed. Dance is about expression, about communication. Ballroom dancing is about that, of course, but it’s also about connection. Connection with the audience. Connection with your partner. Connection to the deepest parts of yourself.”
Kurt spun her once, pleased when she followed and barely missed a step. The music flowed over and around them, driving them forward.
“When you act, you play a part, but it’s not that simple, right?” Kurt said. Kim nodded, too focused on dancing to speak. “You become the character, learning her quirks and her reasons - all the whys of who she is. Think of each dance style the same way. Each one has a unique flavor, a character all its own. Become the character, and you master the dance. It’s as easy and as insanely complex as that.”
The music slowed, hanging onto its last notes as Kurt drew Kim in so that he could dip her back over his arm. She went easily, her spine arched and fluid. The room echoed into silence before Kurt lifted her back up again.
“Better?” He asked, when she’d caught her breath and stepped back a bit.
“Definitely.”
“Good.” Kurt bent down to kiss Kim’s cheek, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. “Time for a water break, and then we’ll get back to it. Cha cha or mambo?”
“Mambo, I think. I could go for something fierce and driving,” Kim said. Her grin was back.
“As you wish,” Kurt said, tossing her a bottle of water. Kim laughed.
“How are you real?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how are you so ridiculously good at this? Ten minutes ago I was losing my mind, and now I feel like I could dance anything you gave me,” Kim said.
“It’s my job,” Kurt said. “It’s the thing I do best and care about most.”
“Well, it shows, Mr. Modesty. So I’ll just repeat what I said when we met. I’m so, so excited that you’re my partner.” She beamed at him, and Kurt shook his head, trying not to blush.
“Ok, enough of that,” he said. “Let’s get back to work.”
***
“So we’re having a party,” Kim announced the next morning in lieu of a normal greeting.
“We are?” Kurt asked. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”
“You and me, silly boy! On Friday, at my house. A cast party to celebrate the new season. I already checked with all the commuting pairs, and they’ll be in town.”
“And why am I involved in throwing this party, exactly?”
“You’re my partner, so you have to be my co-host,” Kim said, as though that explained everything.
“Isn’t that what you have a husband for?”
“Grant’s in charge of entertainment. You’re in charge of the social niceties.”
“Well, so long as our roles are all clear,” Kurt said. Kim clapped, sensing victory.
“It’ll be fun! There will be drinks and music and dancing, and we’ll all get to know one another better.”
“You are suspiciously excited about the prospect of getting all the pros and celebs together.”
“I,” Kim said, fluttering her eyelashes, “am a perfectly innocent party-thrower. Just ask my husband.”
Kurt scoffed. Loudly.
***
Nine o’clock Friday night found Kurt wearing a child-sized superman cape and sparkly pink tiara, flat on his back on the floor of Molly and Jake’s playroom, one child tucked under each arm. It was time for the party to start and at least half an hour after their normal bedtime, but Kim had left them to it and Kurt was having too much fun to send them to bed just yet. A few minutes before, he had managed to convince them to brush their teeth and put on pajamas with promises of a chapter of Harry Potter, complete with character voices. He was just getting into it, voice low and words clipped as he imitated Hagrid’s accent, when movement at the door caught his eye.
“Um, hi,” Blaine said. He was leaning in the doorway, casual and yet stylish in dark jeans and a plum cardigan. “Bedtime stories?”
“Harry Potter!” Molly chirped from Kurt’s right shoulder. “Kurtsie promised us a whole chapter tonight!”
“Did he now?” Blaine asked, coming closer while Kurt willed his cheeks not to flush with mortification. “And who dressed Kurtsie up in this charming ensemble?”
“Me and Jake! From our dress up box. Do you want a tiara?” Molly fluttered her lashes in a way that had to be genetic, and Blaine laughed.
“I think I’ll pass for now, but thanks. I could help with story time, though. My nephew assures me that I do a pretty fierce Professor McGonagall.” Blaine settled down near Kurt’s head, leaning up against a bookcase. Kurt attempted not to die of shame.
Blaine, for his part, seemed to be not at all fazed by Kurt’s unusual ensemble and company. He dove right into the story, alternating characters with Kurt. At the end of the chapter, he scooped Molly up from where she was drowsing against Kurt’s chest so that Kurt could scramble to his feet and pick Jake up. Kurt whipped the tiara off his head when Blaine headed for the door with Molly, and then strode ahead so he could direct Blaine to Molly’s room. When Kurt had finished tucking Jake in, he found Blaine waiting for him in the hallway.
“Nice cape,” Blaine said, not unkindly. Kurt flushed, again, and untied the bow around his neck.
“Thanks for the assist,” Kurt said, his back to Blaine as he stopped back in the playroom to put the cape, tiara, and book away. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
“Really, I was just early. I know parties don’t really start until at least half an hour after they say they do, but I was raised to be on time. Still can’t seem to break the habit.”
“A man with manners,” Kurt commented, leading the way down the stairs. “You’re part of a dying breed.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk. A bedtime story complete with voices? Too few people do that anymore.”
“It was embarrassing.”
“It was sweet,” Blaine said, and he made Kurt feel sixteen again. “I’m sorry. Now I’m embarrassing you.”
“It’s ok, really.” Kurt rubbed a hand over his face and then over his hair for good measure. “I’m not usually this casual in what is essentially a work environment. Those kids just…”
“Grab at your heart and don’t let go?” Blaine asked, smiling. “I know what that’s like.”
“Your nephew?”
“Yeah, and my niece. The two most adorable beings on the planet, in my humble opinion.” Blaine grinned, and Kurt damned him for being so unrelentingly perfect.
They walked out to the patio side by side and Kim immediately approached them with glasses of wine and kisses on the cheek for putting her little hooligans to bed. Kurt shot a glare in her direction, knowing without having to ask that she was the one who had sent Blaine upstairs. Kim grinned and dragged Blaine off to talk to her husband, and Kurt retreated to the relative safety of Brittany, Mike, and Tina.
Kurt felt uncannily aware of Blaine all night. For the most part, they stayed on opposite sides of the party. Kurt introduced himself to the celebs he hadn’t yet met and spent an enjoyable half hour trading barbs with Maks and Santana, who seemed like a match made in heaven.
As the evening wore on, the music grew exponentially louder, the partygoers looser, and the atmosphere more intimate. Mark and Derek, two of the long-term pros, were tucked into a corner by the pool, intently discussing something. Lacey and Chelsie, another pro, were dancing around, surrounded by Matt, Rory, and Joe, none of whom looked like they’d be much competition. They were endearing in that straight guy flailing about on the dance floor way, but they didn’t make Kurt nervous at all for the show.
Santana was laughing at something Brittany had just said, her head thrown back, and since Brit was laughing too that meant that Santana actually got her, which was both refreshing and unexpected. It would bear watching. Quinn, the journalist from CNN who was dancing with Mark, begged off early, citing an early morning interview. Lauren and Puck took off at some point together, talking loudly in sports metaphors that made Kurt shudder. Bitsy and Sugar, who was famous for being famous, as far as Kurt could tell, were bouncing around together, drinking champagne and giggling. Kim had her head together with Tina, which terrified but didn’t surprise Kurt, while Mike, Blaine, and Grant talked music and dance and the intersections between the two.
Kurt was content to relax in a lounge chair by the pool, people watching and sipping wine. But then Britney came on over the sound system, his Brit-Brit came charging for him, and he was on the makeshift dance floor, his glass left behind while his girls surrounded him. I’m a Slave 4 U wasn’t exactly fast, but it was perfect for a little dirty Latin dancing.
Kurt pulled Brit close, and she slithered down his body and back up. Behind him, Tina was using his shoulders as a makeshift barre; at one point he swore he could see her foot stretched over his head. Kurt lost himself in the music and the movement, letting his hips twist and his hands reach out automatically to spin Brit and Tina. Dimly, he heard a whoop and knew that Mike was coming to grab his wife for a dance. Brit turned into him more fully, and he led her out into a series of tight steps, their hips swiveling together. Maks and Lacey popped up next to them, moving fast and grinning hard as the song transitioned to Me Against the Music.
Kurt caught Maks’ eye, remembering the pro dance they’d done two seasons before. He counted them in, while Mike shooed the celebs out of their way. The music kicked into higher gear, the bass thumping, and the two couples were off, feet flying. Kurt and Maks swung the girls out, snapping them back in for a beat before both pairs shifted around one another with staccato steps. Then the boys stepped back for the bridge, letting Brit and Lacey do what they did best. The real Britney had nothing on them.
Kurt stood at the edge of the floor, breathing hard. On the other side of the loose circle of dancers, Blaine was standing alone, observing. He caught Kurt’s eye, held his gaze for a long moment. Kurt felt undone, being watched like that. He couldn’t look away. Finally, after what felt like years but could have only been seconds, Blaine’s mouth quirked up in a smile and Kurt remembered to breathe again. He looked down, and when he glanced back up, Blaine had turned away.
They didn’t talk, then or later. Kim dragged Kurt back into the group of dancers, and Blaine spent the next couple of hours moving from group to group, talking and laughing and smiling that illegal smile of his. Kurt never caught Blaine looking again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that dark eyes followed him for the rest of the night.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Burt/Carole, Tina/Mike, Mercedes/Sam, Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Finn
Spoilers: None, but assume that anything through 3.14 is fair game for inspiration.
Word Count: 3094
Summary: After five disappointing seasons on the show, professional dancer Kurt Hummel finally has his chance at ballroom glory. With actress and fan favorite Kim Schrodinger as his partner, Kurt vows to channel all his focus into winning that mirrorball trophy - distractions, including men, be damned. Enter Blaine Anderson, a gorgeous, confusing pop star who may turn out to be the biggest distraction of them all.
In This Chapter: Kurt catches up with Cedes and Tina, Kim and Kurt rehearse, Kim throws a party, and Blaine finds Kurt in a somewhat embarrassing position.
Author's Note: This is a Dancing with the Stars/Glee crossover AU, in which Kurt grew up dancing and became a professional on the show in his mid-twenties, and Blaine is a pop star with a very private private life. Other familiar Glee faces, some actual DWTS pros, and a couple of OCs appear to round out the cast of characters. I'll be posting twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. I have a master glee post here, or follow my bff's tumblr for updates and some fun multi-media extras that will go along with most chapters. Thanks to
samzgurl,
wintercreek, and
gypsyangel25 for the beta as well as for general cheer-leading and fun times.
“Hey, hey, morning show star!” Mercedes called to Kurt as he walked in to what was apparently a three-person coffee date with Tina on Thursday morning. They’d already bought him a coffee and a bagel with light cream cheese, so he let it slide.
“Don’t tell me you actually got up to watch that drivel, Cedes,” Kurt said, trying his coffee. It was perfect.
“Of course not. I need my beauty sleep. I youtubed it like a sane person. What on earth did that stylist do to your hair?” Mercedes asked.
“I know, right?” Kurt said. “He was completely adorable but a total disaster with a comb and too much hairspray. I think he was too star struck by the pop star to pay attention to what he was doing. I swear, if I’d had to hear one more time how much Blaine Anderson looks like a young Elvis, someone would be missing an eye.”
“This is why we keep Mercedes around. She’s witty, talented, and she doesn’t drool over the celebs,” Tina said.
“No, just the costume guy,” Kurt said, snickering.
“Hey now, Sam is totally hot. And before you start again, he’s also totally straight,” Mercedes said.
“Cedes, sweetheart, his facility with sequins speaks for itself,” Kurt said, rehashing an argument they’d been having roughly once a week since Sam had joined the show.
“Boy, you’re only listening to the way his biceps move under those tight shirts he wears,” she replied. Tina’s gaze was swinging back and forth between them like she was watching a particularly exciting tennis match.
“And I will keep doing so until you prove me wrong. Is there a reason you haven’t hit that yet, exactly?”
“Oooh, yes, Mercedes. You should make that happen,” Tina said.
“So you’re siding with her on the is he or isn’t he debate?” Kurt asked.
“Kurt, the boy dresses like a beach bum most of the time. He may know his way around a sewing machine, but I think that’s just a fluke,” Tina replied, as though that settled the matter. Mercedes just grinned.
“Fine,” Kurt said. “But I refuse to bet on it. I’m already in danger of losing $20 to Kim.”
“About Sam?” Mercedes asked, and Kurt shook his head.
“About Blaine, I bet,” Tina said. “He’s extremely suspicious.”
“And extremely hot,” Mercedes said. “In fact…”
“Don’t say it,” Kurt said, dropping his head into his hands dramatically.
“He’s just your type,” both girls chorused, giggling.
“I hate you both, so much.”
“We love you too, K,” Mercedes said. When Kurt ventured a glance upward, she and Tina were both still grinning.
“Do I need to remind you of what we talked about just last week?” Kurt asked.
“Kurt says he’s swearing off guys this season,” Mercedes told Tina.
“Is he capable of doing that?” Tina asked.
“I’m still right here, you guys,” Kurt said, waving an arm in their direction.
“I doubt it, but it’s cute that he wants to try,” Mercedes continued as though she hadn’t heard him.
“Seriously. Hate. So much,” Kurt muttered, and then took a bite of his bagel. He was tempted to say that he had no idea why he put up with them, but that was patently untrue. He loved his girls to bits, even when they were being impossible. He did, however, need to find a way to keep them from conspiring with Kim, because that way lay madness.
“So anyway,” Mercedes said, mercifully changing back to their first topic, “you were charming and gorgeous, even if your hair was not.”
“I particularly loved that bit about you being honored to work with a partner who really lives up to the title America’s Sweetheart. I swear I could hear the fangirls’ and boys’ hearts going pitter patter after that one,” Tina teased.
“Well, I meant it. Kim absolutely lives up to her reputation. She’s sweet but not boring, and she knows how to work.” Kurt chose to ignore the jab about his growing fan club. He couldn’t help it if people thought he was fabulous.
“You are totally going to wipe the floor with everyone this season, aren’t you?” Mercedes asked.
“You better believe it,” Kurt said, even as Tina shrugged and nodded. “And on that note, I should really get to rehearsal. Perfection waits for no dancer.”
He got up to trade hugs and kisses with the girls, promising to see them soon and call them sooner. Then he headed to the studio, ready for another long and productive day with the woman he was coming to think of as his perfect partner.
***
By the following Tuesday, less than three weeks out from their first performance, Kurt had begun thinking longingly of the first few weeks of rehearsal, when everything was fun and new. Kim had taken to the choreography for the cha cha quickly, so Kurt had begun introducing techniques and sequences for the mambo they would dance during the second week. They’d doubled up on rehearsals, hoping to get the structure of both dances settled, but all it had done was make Kim confused about which steps went with which dance. She was getting frustrated, and Kurt was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. They didn’t have time for any of that, but Kurt knew that if he didn’t find a way to get them back on track, they’d be in even more serious trouble.
“Ok,” Kurt said, watching Kim work through the same 16 counts of choreography over and over. “Time to stop.”
“What?” Kim looked over at him. “We have two hours of rehearsal left. We can’t stop now.”
“We can and we are, at least like this. Come here.” Kurt met her in the middle of the floor and turned her to face the mirror again, his hands on her shoulders. “Now close your eyes and stay put.”
Kim cooperated immediately, her eyes closing and her shoulders dropping, and Kurt felt a rush of affection for her. She was an amazing partner, and it was his job to help her reach her potential. He would use every weapon in his arsenal to make that happen.
“Great. Breathe and relax. I’ll be right back.” Kurt walked over to the sound system and cued up one of his favorite songs. It poured from the speakers, slow and sultry and just a little bit sexy.
“What’s this?” Kim asked. She was smiling, but her eyes were still closed. Kurt walked back over and gathered her up so that their shoulders touched and their temples were pressed together. She went willingly, her trust in him heartening.
“Argentine tango. It’s my favorite.” Kurt began moving them with the music, just swaying back and forth in place to start. “Follow my lead, ok? I want to show you why.”
Kim murmured her assent, settling more fully into his frame. Kurt chanced a step toward her, urging her back. She went easily, letting him guide her. They began moving around the floor in irregular patterns, Kurt led by the music and Kim led by Kurt. Within a few seconds, Kim’s eyes opened so that she could mirror the way Kurt’s feet traced across the floor.
“I started with ballet and jazz, just like you,” Kurt said as they moved. He could feel Kim’s smile where her cheek met his. “Then I tried ballroom, and everything changed. Dance is about expression, about communication. Ballroom dancing is about that, of course, but it’s also about connection. Connection with the audience. Connection with your partner. Connection to the deepest parts of yourself.”
Kurt spun her once, pleased when she followed and barely missed a step. The music flowed over and around them, driving them forward.
“When you act, you play a part, but it’s not that simple, right?” Kurt said. Kim nodded, too focused on dancing to speak. “You become the character, learning her quirks and her reasons - all the whys of who she is. Think of each dance style the same way. Each one has a unique flavor, a character all its own. Become the character, and you master the dance. It’s as easy and as insanely complex as that.”
The music slowed, hanging onto its last notes as Kurt drew Kim in so that he could dip her back over his arm. She went easily, her spine arched and fluid. The room echoed into silence before Kurt lifted her back up again.
“Better?” He asked, when she’d caught her breath and stepped back a bit.
“Definitely.”
“Good.” Kurt bent down to kiss Kim’s cheek, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. “Time for a water break, and then we’ll get back to it. Cha cha or mambo?”
“Mambo, I think. I could go for something fierce and driving,” Kim said. Her grin was back.
“As you wish,” Kurt said, tossing her a bottle of water. Kim laughed.
“How are you real?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how are you so ridiculously good at this? Ten minutes ago I was losing my mind, and now I feel like I could dance anything you gave me,” Kim said.
“It’s my job,” Kurt said. “It’s the thing I do best and care about most.”
“Well, it shows, Mr. Modesty. So I’ll just repeat what I said when we met. I’m so, so excited that you’re my partner.” She beamed at him, and Kurt shook his head, trying not to blush.
“Ok, enough of that,” he said. “Let’s get back to work.”
***
“So we’re having a party,” Kim announced the next morning in lieu of a normal greeting.
“We are?” Kurt asked. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”
“You and me, silly boy! On Friday, at my house. A cast party to celebrate the new season. I already checked with all the commuting pairs, and they’ll be in town.”
“And why am I involved in throwing this party, exactly?”
“You’re my partner, so you have to be my co-host,” Kim said, as though that explained everything.
“Isn’t that what you have a husband for?”
“Grant’s in charge of entertainment. You’re in charge of the social niceties.”
“Well, so long as our roles are all clear,” Kurt said. Kim clapped, sensing victory.
“It’ll be fun! There will be drinks and music and dancing, and we’ll all get to know one another better.”
“You are suspiciously excited about the prospect of getting all the pros and celebs together.”
“I,” Kim said, fluttering her eyelashes, “am a perfectly innocent party-thrower. Just ask my husband.”
Kurt scoffed. Loudly.
***
Nine o’clock Friday night found Kurt wearing a child-sized superman cape and sparkly pink tiara, flat on his back on the floor of Molly and Jake’s playroom, one child tucked under each arm. It was time for the party to start and at least half an hour after their normal bedtime, but Kim had left them to it and Kurt was having too much fun to send them to bed just yet. A few minutes before, he had managed to convince them to brush their teeth and put on pajamas with promises of a chapter of Harry Potter, complete with character voices. He was just getting into it, voice low and words clipped as he imitated Hagrid’s accent, when movement at the door caught his eye.
“Um, hi,” Blaine said. He was leaning in the doorway, casual and yet stylish in dark jeans and a plum cardigan. “Bedtime stories?”
“Harry Potter!” Molly chirped from Kurt’s right shoulder. “Kurtsie promised us a whole chapter tonight!”
“Did he now?” Blaine asked, coming closer while Kurt willed his cheeks not to flush with mortification. “And who dressed Kurtsie up in this charming ensemble?”
“Me and Jake! From our dress up box. Do you want a tiara?” Molly fluttered her lashes in a way that had to be genetic, and Blaine laughed.
“I think I’ll pass for now, but thanks. I could help with story time, though. My nephew assures me that I do a pretty fierce Professor McGonagall.” Blaine settled down near Kurt’s head, leaning up against a bookcase. Kurt attempted not to die of shame.
Blaine, for his part, seemed to be not at all fazed by Kurt’s unusual ensemble and company. He dove right into the story, alternating characters with Kurt. At the end of the chapter, he scooped Molly up from where she was drowsing against Kurt’s chest so that Kurt could scramble to his feet and pick Jake up. Kurt whipped the tiara off his head when Blaine headed for the door with Molly, and then strode ahead so he could direct Blaine to Molly’s room. When Kurt had finished tucking Jake in, he found Blaine waiting for him in the hallway.
“Nice cape,” Blaine said, not unkindly. Kurt flushed, again, and untied the bow around his neck.
“Thanks for the assist,” Kurt said, his back to Blaine as he stopped back in the playroom to put the cape, tiara, and book away. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”
“Really, I was just early. I know parties don’t really start until at least half an hour after they say they do, but I was raised to be on time. Still can’t seem to break the habit.”
“A man with manners,” Kurt commented, leading the way down the stairs. “You’re part of a dying breed.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk. A bedtime story complete with voices? Too few people do that anymore.”
“It was embarrassing.”
“It was sweet,” Blaine said, and he made Kurt feel sixteen again. “I’m sorry. Now I’m embarrassing you.”
“It’s ok, really.” Kurt rubbed a hand over his face and then over his hair for good measure. “I’m not usually this casual in what is essentially a work environment. Those kids just…”
“Grab at your heart and don’t let go?” Blaine asked, smiling. “I know what that’s like.”
“Your nephew?”
“Yeah, and my niece. The two most adorable beings on the planet, in my humble opinion.” Blaine grinned, and Kurt damned him for being so unrelentingly perfect.
They walked out to the patio side by side and Kim immediately approached them with glasses of wine and kisses on the cheek for putting her little hooligans to bed. Kurt shot a glare in her direction, knowing without having to ask that she was the one who had sent Blaine upstairs. Kim grinned and dragged Blaine off to talk to her husband, and Kurt retreated to the relative safety of Brittany, Mike, and Tina.
Kurt felt uncannily aware of Blaine all night. For the most part, they stayed on opposite sides of the party. Kurt introduced himself to the celebs he hadn’t yet met and spent an enjoyable half hour trading barbs with Maks and Santana, who seemed like a match made in heaven.
As the evening wore on, the music grew exponentially louder, the partygoers looser, and the atmosphere more intimate. Mark and Derek, two of the long-term pros, were tucked into a corner by the pool, intently discussing something. Lacey and Chelsie, another pro, were dancing around, surrounded by Matt, Rory, and Joe, none of whom looked like they’d be much competition. They were endearing in that straight guy flailing about on the dance floor way, but they didn’t make Kurt nervous at all for the show.
Santana was laughing at something Brittany had just said, her head thrown back, and since Brit was laughing too that meant that Santana actually got her, which was both refreshing and unexpected. It would bear watching. Quinn, the journalist from CNN who was dancing with Mark, begged off early, citing an early morning interview. Lauren and Puck took off at some point together, talking loudly in sports metaphors that made Kurt shudder. Bitsy and Sugar, who was famous for being famous, as far as Kurt could tell, were bouncing around together, drinking champagne and giggling. Kim had her head together with Tina, which terrified but didn’t surprise Kurt, while Mike, Blaine, and Grant talked music and dance and the intersections between the two.
Kurt was content to relax in a lounge chair by the pool, people watching and sipping wine. But then Britney came on over the sound system, his Brit-Brit came charging for him, and he was on the makeshift dance floor, his glass left behind while his girls surrounded him. I’m a Slave 4 U wasn’t exactly fast, but it was perfect for a little dirty Latin dancing.
Kurt pulled Brit close, and she slithered down his body and back up. Behind him, Tina was using his shoulders as a makeshift barre; at one point he swore he could see her foot stretched over his head. Kurt lost himself in the music and the movement, letting his hips twist and his hands reach out automatically to spin Brit and Tina. Dimly, he heard a whoop and knew that Mike was coming to grab his wife for a dance. Brit turned into him more fully, and he led her out into a series of tight steps, their hips swiveling together. Maks and Lacey popped up next to them, moving fast and grinning hard as the song transitioned to Me Against the Music.
Kurt caught Maks’ eye, remembering the pro dance they’d done two seasons before. He counted them in, while Mike shooed the celebs out of their way. The music kicked into higher gear, the bass thumping, and the two couples were off, feet flying. Kurt and Maks swung the girls out, snapping them back in for a beat before both pairs shifted around one another with staccato steps. Then the boys stepped back for the bridge, letting Brit and Lacey do what they did best. The real Britney had nothing on them.
Kurt stood at the edge of the floor, breathing hard. On the other side of the loose circle of dancers, Blaine was standing alone, observing. He caught Kurt’s eye, held his gaze for a long moment. Kurt felt undone, being watched like that. He couldn’t look away. Finally, after what felt like years but could have only been seconds, Blaine’s mouth quirked up in a smile and Kurt remembered to breathe again. He looked down, and when he glanced back up, Blaine had turned away.
They didn’t talk, then or later. Kim dragged Kurt back into the group of dancers, and Blaine spent the next couple of hours moving from group to group, talking and laughing and smiling that illegal smile of his. Kurt never caught Blaine looking again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that dark eyes followed him for the rest of the night.