His Perfect Partner (39/42ish?)
Title: His Perfect Partner (39/42ish?)
Rating: NC-17 overall (PG-13 this chapter)
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Burt/Carole, Tina/Mike, Mercedes/Sam, Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Finn
Spoilers: None, but assume that anything through Season Three is fair game for inspiration.
Word Count: 2577
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 takes one last Monday morning trip to the beach, and then it's showtime.
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. I have a master glee post here, or follow me on my brand new tumblr! Once I'm done with the main story, I'll welcome prompts and the like. Thanks to
samzgurl,
wintercreek, and
gypsyangel25 for the beta as well as for general cheer-leading and fun times.
The rest of the weekend flew by, and before Kurt was ready for it, Monday was dawning. He’d slept surprisingly well, probably because Blaine was an excellent sleep aid, and woke just before the sun, with time enough to watch Blaine come awake beside him.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Blaine said, his voice sleep-rough and intimate. He stretched and then wrapped his arms back around Kurt, snuggling close.
“Morning.” Kurt smiled into Blaine’s hair, and then kissed the top of his head. He thought the start of the most important day of his television career was going pretty well, all things considered.
“You going to the beach this morning?” Blaine asked, yawning.
“I’m planning to.” Kurt ran his fingers down Blaine’s arm, considering. “Can I meet you for breakfast after? I’d invite you along, but…”
“Sweetheart, I get it.” Blaine shifted so he could look up at Kurt. “This is a big deal, so you do what you need to do. How about if I have breakfast ready when you get back?”
“You’re perfect. Thank you.” Kurt kissed Blaine, grateful all over again for this wonderful man who understood him so well. “Give me an hour or two.”
“You got it,” Blaine said, stretching out across the bed as Kurt got up. “I’m going to do my very complicated going back to sleep ritual first, though.”
“I’ll set the alarm,” Kurt said, smiling and rolling his eyes. “See you soon.”
Blaine mumbled something unintelligible, already well on his way back to dreamland, and Kurt slipped out of the bedroom with a change of clothes. He kept things simple, throwing on practice clothes and his favorite hooded sweatshirt from his dad’s shop. There was a time and a place for high fashion, and the beach on the morning of a show day was not it.
Outside it was cool and overcast, the normal sunny bustle of the city muted by the weather and the hour. Kurt was happy to have the beach mostly to himself, to feel the breeze on his face and smell the tang of salt in the air. Though it chilled his feet a little, he’d taken his shoes off so he could feel the damp sand between his toes. Being barefoot on the beach grounded him, and the rhythm of the waves lapping at the shoreline soothed him in just the way he needed.
Once he found a flat and empty stretch of sand, Kurt closed his eyes and centered himself. Instead of the darkness behind his eyelids, he saw the crowded ballroom as it would be that night. The ocean sounds became the applause of the audience, and smooth wood replaced the sand. In his mind, Kim was there, her arms in his for the tango and then right next to him as they completed their freestyle in perfect sync.
When he opened his eyes again, he smiled ruefully into the empty air. If only winning were as simple as visualizing the best possible performance and having it be so. Kurt knew they were capable of it, but they still had to make it happen. They had to overcome the fear and the nerves; they had to rise to the occasion at precisely the moment it mattered most.
Kurt had more faith in Kim than in any partner he’d ever had. She could do it. They could do it. All that stood between them and success was six minutes of the hardest, most complex dancing they’d ever done together.
He walked down to the shoreline, chilling himself to the ankle in the waves as he thought about the task he’d set them. Kim had wanted to be pushed, and Kurt had been more than willing to take their performance to the next level. The lifts were more difficult, the footwork more complex than anything he’d ever tried with a non-professional. They would be moving fast, and they’d have to inject more personality into the performances than ever before.
No one won the show with a lackluster freestyle. It had to be fast-paced and energetic, yet controlled and precise. It had to be difficult without looking hard. Most of all, it had to get the crowd on its feet and the people at home reaching for their phones to vote. Seasons could be lost from trying too hard or not hard enough. Finding the right balance took a special kind of magic. Kurt hoped that his choreography - that he and Kim - would have it.
Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to will down the anxiety that he knew would be his constant companion for the rest of the day. He would be strong for Kim and supportive of Blaine. He would be witty on camera and polite to the judges. He would, he thought fiercely, leave his heart out on that dance floor. No one would ever be able to say that he hadn’t done everything he could to win.
Kurt stood at the water’s edge for a few more minutes, trying to soak in the calm steadiness that the ocean offered. And when he was ready, or as close as he would ever be, he turned away and headed up the beach. It was time. He had a competition to win.
***
The rest of the day passed in minutes that felt like eons and hours that disappeared in seconds. Kurt’s time with Blaine felt painfully short, though they had breakfast and then drove to the studio together. At Kurt’s trailer, they said an extended goodbye. Their schedules would keep them apart for the rest of the day.
“It’s kind of like a wedding, don’t you think?” Blaine asked, his cheeks flushed and lips red from Kurt’s kisses. “Not getting to see each other until we go on stage tonight?”
“I suppose,” Kurt said, raising an eyebrow even while his heart gave a traitorous flutter. Blaine couldn’t just say things like that. It gave him ideas.
“Have a good day,” Blaine said, smiling like he could read Kurt’s mind. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Kurt said, and he pulled Blaine back in for one more kiss.
They finally separated, Blaine heading to one more blocking check with Bitsy while Kurt met up with Kim in hair and makeup. When he got there, Kurt received the longest hug on record from Cedes, who had gone blatantly partisan and was wearing her “Team Hum-dinger” t-shirt.
“I expect great things out of you two,” Cedes said. She was pulling Kim’s hair into a sleek ponytail that would serve as the basis for both of her looks for the evening. “Great things that include not messing up your hair and makeup for the rest of the day. With this pro dance madness they’re doing, I’m only going to have time for quick touch-ups tonight.”
“What are they doing?” Kurt asked. “We’ve been so busy, I didn’t get to see it. All I know is what Brit babbled to me about at lunch the other day, and none of that made any sense.”
“Did she happen to mention zombies?” Cedes asked with a smirk.
“Yes, actually,” Kurt replied. He was still so confused.
“Think about tonight’s theme, and then add that little tidbit. I think you’ll get there,” Cedes said, and then refused to answer any more questions while she finished with their hair.
They didn’t have time to think about it, because they had to head immediately to the ballroom for their final stage rehearsal. Both dances looked good, if a little shaky. Kim tried to apologize, but Kurt just waved her off and reminded her that the only performances that counted would be the two they did later that night.
They ate the world’s quickest dinner in Kim’s trailer, cutting it short so that they could spend a few precious minutes with Grant and the kids. Kurt couldn’t find it in him to stay anxious when Molly was swinging his hand back and forth with hers, talking a mile a minute about the pretty dress she’d gotten for the show and how excited she was to see ‘Mommy’s big dance.’ Jake, as usual, had immediately crawled into Kurt’s lap and tucked his head under Kurt’s chin. Kurt dared anyone to stay stressed when they had such a happy girl and cuddly boy around to cheer them up.
Soon enough, though, it was time to send Kim’s family on their way so that she and Kurt could get into costume and sneak a few minutes with Cedes for touch-ups. With fifteen minutes left until they went live, Kim and Kurt made their way backstage to the little greenroom where they sometimes gave post-dance interviews. Santana, Maks, Blaine, and Bitsy were already there.
“Looking good, Hummel,” Santana called, and Maks wolf-whistled. Somehow, the two of them seemed completely calm.
“Looking…naked, Santana,” Kurt replied. Santana and Maks would be doing their samba again, and their costumes required barely a yard of fabric between them, it seemed. Maks wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Santana wasn’t wearing much of anything. Kurt could see her point about Sam not liking to dress her in actual clothes.
“Brit likes it,” was Santana’s reply. Kurt just rolled his eyes. Of course she did. He turned toward Blaine, ready for a little sanity in his life.
“Hey,” Blaine said. He was smiling the soft smile he reserved for Kurt, and he looked adorable in his jive outfit.
“How is it that an outfit that would make the rest of us look like idiots makes you look like the cutest guy on the planet?” Kurt asked, reaching out for Blaine’s hand.
“I’m just going to take that compliment and say thank you,” Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt’s hand.
“Smart man,” Kim said. She hugged both Blaine and Bitsy, who looked a little pale. “So are you guys ready for this?”
“I think so,” Blaine said. He settled his free arm across Bitsy’s shoulders.
“We have to be,” Bitsy said, the fierce note in her voice impressing Kurt. He’d come to realize over the course of the season that she was a lot more than a bubbly little blonde. He hadn’t admitted it fully out loud yet, but he was starting to like her.
“I think we’re all as ready as we’ll ever be,” Kim agreed. “Now I’d just like to get this show on the road.”
As though Kim had cued them, a handful of pros in insane costumes and zombie makeup spilled into the room just then. Brit was in the lead, and she headed straight for Santana, who kept her at arm’s length to avoid getting smeared with multi-colored face paint. Mike and Tina weren’t far behind; Tina blew kisses to everyone rather than trying to get any closer.
“So you’re doing Thriller?” Kurt asked, the costumes and the night’s theme clicking together in his head. “I thought it was just another one of Brit’s fever dreams.”
“Yeah, we are. Well, mostly,” Tina said. “It’s actually a mash-up of Thriller and Heads Will Roll.”
“Creepy, but awesome,” Mike added. “The producers wanted something that went with the MJ theme tonight. I tried to sell them on Scream, but they thought Thriller was more iconic.”
“They’re probably right, though you’d do a killer Scream,” Blaine said, reaching out to slap Mike’s hand.
“Thanks. This’ll be fun, though. Brit and I have been working on the choreo for a couple of weeks,” Mike said.
“It’s amazing,” Tina confirmed. Her sunny grin was distorted by her zombie makeup. Kurt shuddered. At least they weren’t all dressed as vampires. That would have been truly awful.
A PA stopped in a moment later to head all the zombie dancers toward the ballroom, and Kim wheedled permission for the six competitors to go up to the Celebraquarium to watch the performance. They’d have to race backstage afterwards for their official introductions, while Tom opened the show and checked in with the judges. Kurt knew it would be worth it; when Mike and Brit joined forces, their numbers were always epic.
Sure enough, the piece was insane in the very best way. The floor of the ballroom was covered in smoke, and as the music began, the dancers rose up from the ground, their silhouettes stark and eerie. They hung there, swaying in time to the music, while one dancer launched himself out of the crowd into a forward roll, coming up smoothly and flowing directly into a series of hip hop moves. Rationally, Kurt knew it was Mike, but the music, costumes, makeup, and lighting combined to make him seem otherworldly.
The other dancers began moving behind him, stalking forward, their heads lolling on their necks grotesquely. Next to Kurt, Kim shivered, but she was grinning widely. Judging by the screams and cheers coming from the crowd below them, everyone in the ballroom was enjoying the performance as much as she was. Down on the floor, the dancers launched into the chorus, a long partnering and lift sequence that most closely resembled a cha cha. Then they split apart, individual couples taking their turns to whirl through the mist as the second verse began.
“How do they do that?” Blaine asked from Kurt’s other side, his eyes wide and focused on Mike and Brit as they moved.
Blaine’s voice was so full of wonder that Kurt wanted to wrap an arm around his waist and hug him close. But they were in public now. That sort of affection would have to wait until they were alone, or at least until next week, when the world would know about them.
“Years of practice. And some sort of pact with the devil, I think,” Kurt said, smiling over at Blaine instead of reaching out.
Blaine grinned back before focusing again on the dancers below them. Kurt followed suit, watching with an appreciative eye as the performance rose to its crescendo. Mike stalked his way through the smoke, slowly gathering the other dancers behind him, and then broke into some of the original Thriller choreography. Brit and Tina were right behind him, their every movement sharp and yet deliciously undead. Kurt was a little jealous that he hadn’t gotten to perform this one with them.
The crowd roared its approval, everyone coming to their feet even as the dancers sank back down into the mist at the end. And then they were up and bowing, and Kim was grabbing Kurt’s hand to race for backstage. As they hurried along a little-used corridor, Kurt fought to come back to himself. The performance had been amazing, but now it was time to compete.
Kim and Kurt arrived at the top of the stairs for their entrance with seconds to spare. Cedes was there to give them each a once-over and an encouraging grin. Once she stepped back to fuss with Blaine and Bitsy, Kurt took Kim’s hand and drew her arm through his. Like they did every week, they each took a deep breath and smiled at one another.
“This is it,” Kim said, her smile wide and her eyes a little teary. And then, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kurt replied. He lifted her hand from the crook of his elbow to brush a quick kiss across her fingertips. “Get ready to shine.”
They took one more steadying breath, their eyes locked. The announcer intoned their names, and the curtains parted before them. Together, they stepped into the ballroom’s light and sound.
Rating: NC-17 overall (PG-13 this chapter)
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Burt/Carole, Tina/Mike, Mercedes/Sam, Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Finn
Spoilers: None, but assume that anything through Season Three is fair game for inspiration.
Word Count: 2577
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 takes one last Monday morning trip to the beach, and then it's showtime.
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. I have a master glee post here, or follow me on my brand new tumblr! Once I'm done with the main story, I'll welcome prompts and the like. Thanks to
samzgurl,
wintercreek, and
gypsyangel25 for the beta as well as for general cheer-leading and fun times.
The rest of the weekend flew by, and before Kurt was ready for it, Monday was dawning. He’d slept surprisingly well, probably because Blaine was an excellent sleep aid, and woke just before the sun, with time enough to watch Blaine come awake beside him.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Blaine said, his voice sleep-rough and intimate. He stretched and then wrapped his arms back around Kurt, snuggling close.
“Morning.” Kurt smiled into Blaine’s hair, and then kissed the top of his head. He thought the start of the most important day of his television career was going pretty well, all things considered.
“You going to the beach this morning?” Blaine asked, yawning.
“I’m planning to.” Kurt ran his fingers down Blaine’s arm, considering. “Can I meet you for breakfast after? I’d invite you along, but…”
“Sweetheart, I get it.” Blaine shifted so he could look up at Kurt. “This is a big deal, so you do what you need to do. How about if I have breakfast ready when you get back?”
“You’re perfect. Thank you.” Kurt kissed Blaine, grateful all over again for this wonderful man who understood him so well. “Give me an hour or two.”
“You got it,” Blaine said, stretching out across the bed as Kurt got up. “I’m going to do my very complicated going back to sleep ritual first, though.”
“I’ll set the alarm,” Kurt said, smiling and rolling his eyes. “See you soon.”
Blaine mumbled something unintelligible, already well on his way back to dreamland, and Kurt slipped out of the bedroom with a change of clothes. He kept things simple, throwing on practice clothes and his favorite hooded sweatshirt from his dad’s shop. There was a time and a place for high fashion, and the beach on the morning of a show day was not it.
Outside it was cool and overcast, the normal sunny bustle of the city muted by the weather and the hour. Kurt was happy to have the beach mostly to himself, to feel the breeze on his face and smell the tang of salt in the air. Though it chilled his feet a little, he’d taken his shoes off so he could feel the damp sand between his toes. Being barefoot on the beach grounded him, and the rhythm of the waves lapping at the shoreline soothed him in just the way he needed.
Once he found a flat and empty stretch of sand, Kurt closed his eyes and centered himself. Instead of the darkness behind his eyelids, he saw the crowded ballroom as it would be that night. The ocean sounds became the applause of the audience, and smooth wood replaced the sand. In his mind, Kim was there, her arms in his for the tango and then right next to him as they completed their freestyle in perfect sync.
When he opened his eyes again, he smiled ruefully into the empty air. If only winning were as simple as visualizing the best possible performance and having it be so. Kurt knew they were capable of it, but they still had to make it happen. They had to overcome the fear and the nerves; they had to rise to the occasion at precisely the moment it mattered most.
Kurt had more faith in Kim than in any partner he’d ever had. She could do it. They could do it. All that stood between them and success was six minutes of the hardest, most complex dancing they’d ever done together.
He walked down to the shoreline, chilling himself to the ankle in the waves as he thought about the task he’d set them. Kim had wanted to be pushed, and Kurt had been more than willing to take their performance to the next level. The lifts were more difficult, the footwork more complex than anything he’d ever tried with a non-professional. They would be moving fast, and they’d have to inject more personality into the performances than ever before.
No one won the show with a lackluster freestyle. It had to be fast-paced and energetic, yet controlled and precise. It had to be difficult without looking hard. Most of all, it had to get the crowd on its feet and the people at home reaching for their phones to vote. Seasons could be lost from trying too hard or not hard enough. Finding the right balance took a special kind of magic. Kurt hoped that his choreography - that he and Kim - would have it.
Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to will down the anxiety that he knew would be his constant companion for the rest of the day. He would be strong for Kim and supportive of Blaine. He would be witty on camera and polite to the judges. He would, he thought fiercely, leave his heart out on that dance floor. No one would ever be able to say that he hadn’t done everything he could to win.
Kurt stood at the water’s edge for a few more minutes, trying to soak in the calm steadiness that the ocean offered. And when he was ready, or as close as he would ever be, he turned away and headed up the beach. It was time. He had a competition to win.
***
The rest of the day passed in minutes that felt like eons and hours that disappeared in seconds. Kurt’s time with Blaine felt painfully short, though they had breakfast and then drove to the studio together. At Kurt’s trailer, they said an extended goodbye. Their schedules would keep them apart for the rest of the day.
“It’s kind of like a wedding, don’t you think?” Blaine asked, his cheeks flushed and lips red from Kurt’s kisses. “Not getting to see each other until we go on stage tonight?”
“I suppose,” Kurt said, raising an eyebrow even while his heart gave a traitorous flutter. Blaine couldn’t just say things like that. It gave him ideas.
“Have a good day,” Blaine said, smiling like he could read Kurt’s mind. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Kurt said, and he pulled Blaine back in for one more kiss.
They finally separated, Blaine heading to one more blocking check with Bitsy while Kurt met up with Kim in hair and makeup. When he got there, Kurt received the longest hug on record from Cedes, who had gone blatantly partisan and was wearing her “Team Hum-dinger” t-shirt.
“I expect great things out of you two,” Cedes said. She was pulling Kim’s hair into a sleek ponytail that would serve as the basis for both of her looks for the evening. “Great things that include not messing up your hair and makeup for the rest of the day. With this pro dance madness they’re doing, I’m only going to have time for quick touch-ups tonight.”
“What are they doing?” Kurt asked. “We’ve been so busy, I didn’t get to see it. All I know is what Brit babbled to me about at lunch the other day, and none of that made any sense.”
“Did she happen to mention zombies?” Cedes asked with a smirk.
“Yes, actually,” Kurt replied. He was still so confused.
“Think about tonight’s theme, and then add that little tidbit. I think you’ll get there,” Cedes said, and then refused to answer any more questions while she finished with their hair.
They didn’t have time to think about it, because they had to head immediately to the ballroom for their final stage rehearsal. Both dances looked good, if a little shaky. Kim tried to apologize, but Kurt just waved her off and reminded her that the only performances that counted would be the two they did later that night.
They ate the world’s quickest dinner in Kim’s trailer, cutting it short so that they could spend a few precious minutes with Grant and the kids. Kurt couldn’t find it in him to stay anxious when Molly was swinging his hand back and forth with hers, talking a mile a minute about the pretty dress she’d gotten for the show and how excited she was to see ‘Mommy’s big dance.’ Jake, as usual, had immediately crawled into Kurt’s lap and tucked his head under Kurt’s chin. Kurt dared anyone to stay stressed when they had such a happy girl and cuddly boy around to cheer them up.
Soon enough, though, it was time to send Kim’s family on their way so that she and Kurt could get into costume and sneak a few minutes with Cedes for touch-ups. With fifteen minutes left until they went live, Kim and Kurt made their way backstage to the little greenroom where they sometimes gave post-dance interviews. Santana, Maks, Blaine, and Bitsy were already there.
“Looking good, Hummel,” Santana called, and Maks wolf-whistled. Somehow, the two of them seemed completely calm.
“Looking…naked, Santana,” Kurt replied. Santana and Maks would be doing their samba again, and their costumes required barely a yard of fabric between them, it seemed. Maks wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Santana wasn’t wearing much of anything. Kurt could see her point about Sam not liking to dress her in actual clothes.
“Brit likes it,” was Santana’s reply. Kurt just rolled his eyes. Of course she did. He turned toward Blaine, ready for a little sanity in his life.
“Hey,” Blaine said. He was smiling the soft smile he reserved for Kurt, and he looked adorable in his jive outfit.
“How is it that an outfit that would make the rest of us look like idiots makes you look like the cutest guy on the planet?” Kurt asked, reaching out for Blaine’s hand.
“I’m just going to take that compliment and say thank you,” Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt’s hand.
“Smart man,” Kim said. She hugged both Blaine and Bitsy, who looked a little pale. “So are you guys ready for this?”
“I think so,” Blaine said. He settled his free arm across Bitsy’s shoulders.
“We have to be,” Bitsy said, the fierce note in her voice impressing Kurt. He’d come to realize over the course of the season that she was a lot more than a bubbly little blonde. He hadn’t admitted it fully out loud yet, but he was starting to like her.
“I think we’re all as ready as we’ll ever be,” Kim agreed. “Now I’d just like to get this show on the road.”
As though Kim had cued them, a handful of pros in insane costumes and zombie makeup spilled into the room just then. Brit was in the lead, and she headed straight for Santana, who kept her at arm’s length to avoid getting smeared with multi-colored face paint. Mike and Tina weren’t far behind; Tina blew kisses to everyone rather than trying to get any closer.
“So you’re doing Thriller?” Kurt asked, the costumes and the night’s theme clicking together in his head. “I thought it was just another one of Brit’s fever dreams.”
“Yeah, we are. Well, mostly,” Tina said. “It’s actually a mash-up of Thriller and Heads Will Roll.”
“Creepy, but awesome,” Mike added. “The producers wanted something that went with the MJ theme tonight. I tried to sell them on Scream, but they thought Thriller was more iconic.”
“They’re probably right, though you’d do a killer Scream,” Blaine said, reaching out to slap Mike’s hand.
“Thanks. This’ll be fun, though. Brit and I have been working on the choreo for a couple of weeks,” Mike said.
“It’s amazing,” Tina confirmed. Her sunny grin was distorted by her zombie makeup. Kurt shuddered. At least they weren’t all dressed as vampires. That would have been truly awful.
A PA stopped in a moment later to head all the zombie dancers toward the ballroom, and Kim wheedled permission for the six competitors to go up to the Celebraquarium to watch the performance. They’d have to race backstage afterwards for their official introductions, while Tom opened the show and checked in with the judges. Kurt knew it would be worth it; when Mike and Brit joined forces, their numbers were always epic.
Sure enough, the piece was insane in the very best way. The floor of the ballroom was covered in smoke, and as the music began, the dancers rose up from the ground, their silhouettes stark and eerie. They hung there, swaying in time to the music, while one dancer launched himself out of the crowd into a forward roll, coming up smoothly and flowing directly into a series of hip hop moves. Rationally, Kurt knew it was Mike, but the music, costumes, makeup, and lighting combined to make him seem otherworldly.
The other dancers began moving behind him, stalking forward, their heads lolling on their necks grotesquely. Next to Kurt, Kim shivered, but she was grinning widely. Judging by the screams and cheers coming from the crowd below them, everyone in the ballroom was enjoying the performance as much as she was. Down on the floor, the dancers launched into the chorus, a long partnering and lift sequence that most closely resembled a cha cha. Then they split apart, individual couples taking their turns to whirl through the mist as the second verse began.
“How do they do that?” Blaine asked from Kurt’s other side, his eyes wide and focused on Mike and Brit as they moved.
Blaine’s voice was so full of wonder that Kurt wanted to wrap an arm around his waist and hug him close. But they were in public now. That sort of affection would have to wait until they were alone, or at least until next week, when the world would know about them.
“Years of practice. And some sort of pact with the devil, I think,” Kurt said, smiling over at Blaine instead of reaching out.
Blaine grinned back before focusing again on the dancers below them. Kurt followed suit, watching with an appreciative eye as the performance rose to its crescendo. Mike stalked his way through the smoke, slowly gathering the other dancers behind him, and then broke into some of the original Thriller choreography. Brit and Tina were right behind him, their every movement sharp and yet deliciously undead. Kurt was a little jealous that he hadn’t gotten to perform this one with them.
The crowd roared its approval, everyone coming to their feet even as the dancers sank back down into the mist at the end. And then they were up and bowing, and Kim was grabbing Kurt’s hand to race for backstage. As they hurried along a little-used corridor, Kurt fought to come back to himself. The performance had been amazing, but now it was time to compete.
Kim and Kurt arrived at the top of the stairs for their entrance with seconds to spare. Cedes was there to give them each a once-over and an encouraging grin. Once she stepped back to fuss with Blaine and Bitsy, Kurt took Kim’s hand and drew her arm through his. Like they did every week, they each took a deep breath and smiled at one another.
“This is it,” Kim said, her smile wide and her eyes a little teary. And then, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kurt replied. He lifted her hand from the crook of his elbow to brush a quick kiss across her fingertips. “Get ready to shine.”
They took one more steadying breath, their eyes locked. The announcer intoned their names, and the curtains parted before them. Together, they stepped into the ballroom’s light and sound.