His Perfect Partner (40/42?)
Title: His Perfect Partner (40/42?)
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: 3305
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: On the night of the finale, the dancing takes center stage.
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 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. And a special note of thanks to all of you for your patience while I dragged my way through this chapter. I sincerely appreciate your support!
Though the build up to it seemed to take forever, the finale performance show was the shortest one of the season. For Kim and Kurt, it would amount to six minutes of warm-ups, six minutes of dancing, another six minutes of judging and interviews, and some waiting around. Kurt wasn’t even that nervous, caught up as he was in the excitement of it all.
The ballroom, always full of energy, was positively electric with anticipation. Kurt could feel it sparking all the way through the soles of his feet and tips of his fingers as he and Kim warmed up for their tango. They’d gone backstage early so they’d be able to sneak back out and watch Santana and Maks perform. After their own turn on the dance floor, they would rush to change into their freestyle costumes so they could be back to see Blaine and Bitsy’s first number. Kurt was glad Carole always recorded the show, because he knew he’d barely remember any of it the first time through.
As expected, Santana and Maks’s samba was hot and fierce. Sue was feeling stingy, though, and only gave them a 9. Kurt thought the boos from the audience could probably be heard in the next zip code over. Even Bruno, who had drooled over the dance, looked affronted at Sue’s score. Sue, of course, just stared them all down until the ballroom quieted again.
While that drama played out and Tom wrested control of the show back so he could send them to commercial, Kim and Kurt quickly made the rounds of the other dancers. Fortified with hugs and air kisses, they walked hand-in-hand to the stage above the main dance floor. Kurt had reoriented the dance slightly, wanting to show Kim off to the entire ballroom. So they would begin upstage center, where no one could miss how flawless she was.
“Remember,” Kurt said, drawing Kim close as the lights flashed their thirty second warning, “Sensual, strong, connected.”
“And in the moment,” Kim replied. “We have a story to tell.”
“Exactly. Now up you go.” Kurt stepped behind her and lifted her smoothly overhead, the curve of her back fitting into his hands.
The lights came up as the music began, the spotlight painting them in silhouette. Kurt took three steps down to the main floor and let Kim slide down his body and back to her feet. They began back-to-chest, Kurt curling around Kim even as she stretched an arm up to wrap around his neck. Torsos pressed together, they followed the movement of their feet around the floor. They were extensions of one another, bodies traversing the same space. And yet they were distinct, the tension between them transcribed by the rigidity of their spines and the precision of their motion.
The dance unfolded exactly as Kurt had envisioned, their story - of strength, of love, of passion - told through partnership and the magic alchemy that only unfolded when they stepped out in front of an eager crowd. Kim was somehow both earthy and ethereal, flying lightly when Kurt lifted her and inhabiting her body solidly as they moved in tandem. The push and pull - the give and take - came so naturally to them now. They loved dancing together, and it showed.
The music drew to an end, the resolution of chords mirrored in the way they clung to one another, reunited. Applause rose around them, and they held on for another moment, smiles replacing their tense expressions of concentration.
“One more to go,” Kim whispered, her fingers tightening around Kurt’s.
“You’ll be brilliant,” he whispered back. “You already are.”
***
To no one’s surprise, Kim and Kurt’s tango scored three perfect 10s. Even Sue couldn’t find any major faults. Kurt thought she might have even smiled approvingly at them for a second as they turned to go. They didn’t get to enjoy that little victory for long, though, because the second the cameras were off them, they were sprinting for the dressing room.
Four minutes later they stood, winded, at the balcony. Cedes was going to have to fix their hair during the next commercial break, but they were clothed and presentable in time to see Blaine and Bitsy charm the ballroom with their jive. Kurt reached over to twine his fingers with Kim’s, grinning hard as he watched Blaine strike a pose opposite Bitsy in the middle of the floor.
They were wonderful as always - bright, cheerful, and energetic without tipping over into manic or saccharine. A glance around the ballroom was enough to show Kurt that the entire place was in love with them; people were on their feet, smiling and clapping along. On the floor, Blaine and Bitsy moved fast, turning through flicks and kicks with easy efficiency and panache. Kurt gave in to the impulse to watch Blaine’s face instead of his feet, and he was instantly captivated by Blaine’s giant grin.
“That boy is made of sunshine,” Kim commented, tucking herself in against Kurt’s side. Kurt hummed his agreement as they watched Blaine spin Bitsy across the floor.
“He’s having so much fun,” Kurt finally said. “It almost makes me feel bad about wanting to beat the pants off of him.”
“Oh, honey, you just want the pants off of him,” Kim said, smirking. She poked Kurt in the side. “But yeah. I love them, and I will happily watch them go down in very adorable flames.”
“That’s my girl,” Kurt said, grinning at her. A moment later, he joined in the audience’s enthusiastic applause for Blaine and Bitsy. The noise almost drowned out Kim’s evil giggles. It sounded like she would enjoy taking them down a little too much.
Kurt and Kim would have stayed to watch the judges’ comments, but Cedes beckoned to them from backstage, one hand on her hip and a frown on her face. Kurt knew better than to piss her off when she had easy access to hairspray and a curling iron, so he hurried over to her.
“You two can’t actually be in two places at once, you know,” Cedes said, barely giving Kurt enough time to shield his face before she started spraying his hair into place. Next to them, the makeup people were painting and powdering Kim within an inch of her life.
“I know. You’re right, Cedes,” Kurt said, trying to look suitably chastened. “But I just wanted to see…”
“They’re going to get a perfect score. And you’re going to take your girl and go warm up properly for the most important dance of your career,” Cedes said. “I don’t want to see you back out there until Santana and Maks’ music starts up.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Kurt replied. He heard a cheer from the ballroom and grinned. Across the room, Kim was grinning too.
“Fierce competition,” Kim said, holding out her hand for Kurt’s. “Bring it on.”
They ran for their favorite practice space, knowing that time was of the essence. Sure enough, they only had five minutes of warm up before a PA appeared in the doorway to let them know the next dance was starting shortly. Just as they peered around the curtain, two cellists were setting up on stage. Though Kurt hadn’t seen Santana and Maks’ rehearsal, he knew at once what Michael Jackson song they’d chosen.
“Smooth Criminal?” Kim whispered, and Kurt nodded without taking his eyes off the ballroom below. This was bound to be interesting. He wanted to see if they could pull it off.
The stage was backlit in red light, showing the cellists’ profiles on the otherwise empty stage. Their bows began to move, and the light behind them pulsed with the rhythm they set. On stage right, a spotlight warmed, revealing Santana, a hat pulled low over her eyes. Opposite her, Maks appeared in his own spotlight, one hand lifted high even as a hand on his hat pulled his gaze down.
The first verse began, and they faced one another for a series of sharp, paso-inspired moves. They came together, stalking down the stairs in front of the cellists and into one another’s arms. What followed was a tour de force - a hybrid of paso doble, cha cha, and tango that displayed Santana’s strength and precision. It was a bold choice, which wasn’t surprising coming from Maks.
As all sound dropped out and then built again toward their grand finale, Kurt could sense the entire audience holding its breath. This performance was sure to be a far cry from Blaine’s exuberance or Kim’s sass, and all the more memorable for it. The only question was how, in the viewers’ minds, it would measure up.
Santana and Maks were in the center of the floor now, circling one another, going faster and faster. Finally, Maks took Santana’s hands and swung her out so that her feet transcribed a wide circle, her back arched and her toes barely skimming the floor. He spun her to a stop and then pulled her back up sharply in time with the final notes, dropping her in a deep dip as the music ended.
With a gasp, the crowd reacted, and they were already on their feet applauding when Kurt and Kim headed backstage so they could make their way down to the floor. Kurt glanced at her when she squeezed his hand, but she only shrugged and gave him a considering look rather than competing to be heard over the noise. Luckily, Kurt knew exactly what she meant.
Santana and Maks had set a high bar, but not an insurmountable one. They’d taken a risk in emphasizing technique over flash, which had been known to hurt finalists before. And while response in the ballroom had been strong, there was really no telling how fans at home would react. It didn’t exactly inspire unbridled confidence, but it didn’t make Kurt throw his hands up in despair either. They had a shot - a good one. All they had to do was dance the hell out of their freestyle.
***
Downstage center, in the precious few seconds before the lights came up and their music began, they breathed together. Kurt’s hands rested lightly on Kim’s shoulders, and she reached up to skim her fingertips over his. They were entirely in synch, united in their approach and attitude and goal. They would be perfect, or nothing. And they would have a damn good time while they did so.
“Give it everything,” Kurt said, his mouth at Kim’s ear. “Show them how much it means to be here.”
Kim nodded, her body swaying slightly under his hands.
“Show them how hot and confident and fearless you are. Show them,” Kurt continued, “how fun a serious ass-kicking can be.”
He couldn’t see it, but he knew from the way her shoulders straightened and then relaxed that she was grinning. He grinned too. They were finally here, at the moment it felt like he’d waited a lifetime for. It was time.
Smoke filled the air, the lights rose, and the opening base notes of Bad throbbed behind them. They tripped forward together, shoulders rolling, and then shimmied in opposite directions in a move Kurt had lifted from Michael Jackson’s choreography. He’d figured a nod to the original could only help them.
They swung through some quick and sharp cha cha steps, incorporating extra turns and small lifts to keep things interesting. When the first chorus hit, Kim took the lead on some adorable hip hop moves which earned whoops from the audience. She looked like she was having the time of her life. Kurt knew for sure that he was.
Kurt had designed the dance to get harder and more spectacular as it went on, building the energy and excitement all the way to the end. This meant that neither of them could let down their focus, or Kim might fall on her face. Luckily, it seemed like the mood of the room and their own happy intensity was pulling them through. Kim practically ran toward him for the backflip, planting her foot in his hands and then soaring up and over even higher than they had practiced. The entire room gasped, and Kim threw her head back and laughed even as she turned into Kurt for their next step.
One more section of partnering, all fast turns and complicated footwork, and then it was time for their final lift. Kim braced her hands against Kurt’s shoulders while he lifted her overhead by the hips until she was almost perpendicular to the floor over his head. Once she was balanced, he spun them twice and then swung her back down and into his arms. She kicked her feet, still grinning wildly, and hopped down. They joined hands and ran for the judges table, where they popped up and sat down, their arms falling around one another just as the final notes sounded.
The audience went nuts. There was no other way to describe it. Kurt couldn’t hear Kim, who ended up having to mime to him that she wanted to go over to hug Grant and the kids. Jake latched onto Kurt like a vine, and Molly wouldn’t stop jumping up and down while holding onto Kim’s hand, so Tom finally gave up and ushered all four of them over to hear what the judges had to say. Kurt had the shock of his life when he looked up at the judges’ table and saw Sue smiling down at them.
Tom asked Bruno and Len to speak first, and they both had great things to say. Bruno managed to tone down his usual innuendo because of the children, and Len grinned and said their dance would have made Michael Jackson proud. Then everyone turned to Sue expectantly.
“I knew you could do it,” she said, nodding decisively. “Just like that time I shot a dancer out of a cannon. She was perfectly fine. And the head injury was really nothing to write home about.”
Kurt and Kim stared at her, not quite sure how to react.
“You were good, you idiots!” Sue shouted, waving them off. “I don’t hate you; go celebrate.”
The crowd began cheering again, obviously recognizing the Sue seal of approval when they heard it. Kurt turned to catch Kim’s eye, and they both started giggling, which caused both kids to crack up too. Kurt tickled Jake’s sides for good measure as they walked back to Grant, not wanting Jake to think about Sue’s particular brand of crazy any longer than he had to.
“You and Mommy were awesome,” Jake said solemnly when Kurt put him back in his seat. “You’re going to win.”
“From your mouth to the voting public’s ear,” Kurt replied, ruffling Jake’s hair. He kissed the tops of both kids’ heads, shared a high five with Grant, and then turned to take Kim’s outstretched hands. She was vibrating with energy and nearly pulled his arm out of its socket as she dragged him up the stairs for their scores.
Kurt kept a firm hold on both Kim’s hands as they waited for the scores. He knew Blaine was somewhere nearby, but he didn’t dare look for him - one sweet glance from Blaine, and Kurt would probably turn into a blubbering pile of mush. He also didn’t think it would be fair if he distracted Blaine right before his freestyle.
A cheer went up from the crowd as the judges gave their scores, each one revealing his or her 10 paddle with a flourish. Kim squealed in Kurt’s ear and dove for him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. They were both grinning foolishly as he swung her in circles, nearly hitting Santana and Maks and the camera crew. Kurt didn’t care, though. They’d done it - a perfect score for the night.
***
When he finally put Kim down, the commercial break was almost over. Santana waved them over to seats on the balcony, looping her arm through Kurt’s when he sat next to her.
“I figure I better restrain you from leaping over the railing and declaring your undying love to the pipsqueak once he’s done charming the ballroom,” Santana said, but she was smiling.
“I can always count on you,” Kurt said dryly. He patted her hand, and then looped his free arm around Kim’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t tell me a thing about this dance, so I can’t wait to see it.”
Both women smiled at him, and he remembered that they at least knew the song Blaine had picked. Kurt was all for surprises, but that just wasn’t fair. At least now the wait was finally over.
Blaine and Bitsy’s rehearsal package wrapped up on the screens flanking the stage, and the whole room went dark, then sparkly. Kurt laughed delightedly as he watched tiny lights flit all over the dance floor, finally resolving into a spotlight at center stage. Blaine was there, in a black fedora and sparkly jacket, grinning and snapping his fingers to the familiar opening riff of Black or White.
“He wanted to do Man in the Mirror,” Kim whispered, leaning into Kurt. “But I told him there’s obvious, and then there’s obvious.”
“And I told him it was too bad the theme wasn’t disco - he could have gone right for It’s Raining Men,” Santana said, grinning wickedly. Kurt just shook his head and motioned to both of them to hush and watch the performance. They could discuss Blaine’s apparent weakness for making dramatic pronouncements in overly-public forums later.
Down on the floor, Blaine and Bitsy were swinging straight into their freestyle, pulling off some sort of cha cha and jive fusion that wouldn’t have worked for anyone else. They were sexy and sassy and fun, engaging the whole crowd and keeping the energy high.
Blaine flipped Bitsy over his back, earning delighted gasps from the audience, and then they slid right into some old school hip hop. They’d managed to retain the flavor of Michael Jackson’s original while making it wholly their own. They were going to be tough to beat, but at the moment Kurt was too busy enjoying Blaine’s performance to care.
The music shifted, and Bitsy backed up to give Blaine the floor. On either side of Kurt, Kim and Santana inhaled sharply as they watched. Kim was the first to recover.
“I’m sorry. Is your boyfriend break dancing?” Kim asked.
“It looks that way, yes,” Kurt said, mouth agape.
“Oh my god the hobbit is my favorite!” Santana crowed, cracking up as Blaine spun around on the floor. “He has no shame.”
“Not really,” Kurt said, shaking his head and laughing helplessly.
“It’s kind of amazing,” Kim said. “Ridiculous, but amazing.”
Kurt nodded sagely in agreement, his eyes still tracking Blaine’s progress across the floor. He was back with Bitsy now, finishing out the dance with some flashy partnering. They let go briefly, practically skipping around the floor in opposite directions, getting the audience to clap along. Then Blaine caught Bitsy for a final lift and spin before they stumbled dramatically back toward the stairs and ended draped across them with their hands clasped.
Kurt, Santana, and Kim joined in the enthusiastic cheering as Blaine and Bitsy listened to the judges’ comments and received their scores, another set of perfect 10s. As the six contestants were hustled back down the stairs for the end of the show, Blaine caught Kurt’s eye and squeezed his hand briefly. Kurt smiled back at him, trying to impart all his pride, gratitude, excitement, and nerves with a single glance.
It was going to be a long night and an even longer day as they waited for the next night’s final results. Kurt was grateful that they - Kim, their families, and most of all, Blaine - would all be going through it together.
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: 3305
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: On the night of the finale, the dancing takes center stage.
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 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. And a special note of thanks to all of you for your patience while I dragged my way through this chapter. I sincerely appreciate your support!
Though the build up to it seemed to take forever, the finale performance show was the shortest one of the season. For Kim and Kurt, it would amount to six minutes of warm-ups, six minutes of dancing, another six minutes of judging and interviews, and some waiting around. Kurt wasn’t even that nervous, caught up as he was in the excitement of it all.
The ballroom, always full of energy, was positively electric with anticipation. Kurt could feel it sparking all the way through the soles of his feet and tips of his fingers as he and Kim warmed up for their tango. They’d gone backstage early so they’d be able to sneak back out and watch Santana and Maks perform. After their own turn on the dance floor, they would rush to change into their freestyle costumes so they could be back to see Blaine and Bitsy’s first number. Kurt was glad Carole always recorded the show, because he knew he’d barely remember any of it the first time through.
As expected, Santana and Maks’s samba was hot and fierce. Sue was feeling stingy, though, and only gave them a 9. Kurt thought the boos from the audience could probably be heard in the next zip code over. Even Bruno, who had drooled over the dance, looked affronted at Sue’s score. Sue, of course, just stared them all down until the ballroom quieted again.
While that drama played out and Tom wrested control of the show back so he could send them to commercial, Kim and Kurt quickly made the rounds of the other dancers. Fortified with hugs and air kisses, they walked hand-in-hand to the stage above the main dance floor. Kurt had reoriented the dance slightly, wanting to show Kim off to the entire ballroom. So they would begin upstage center, where no one could miss how flawless she was.
“Remember,” Kurt said, drawing Kim close as the lights flashed their thirty second warning, “Sensual, strong, connected.”
“And in the moment,” Kim replied. “We have a story to tell.”
“Exactly. Now up you go.” Kurt stepped behind her and lifted her smoothly overhead, the curve of her back fitting into his hands.
The lights came up as the music began, the spotlight painting them in silhouette. Kurt took three steps down to the main floor and let Kim slide down his body and back to her feet. They began back-to-chest, Kurt curling around Kim even as she stretched an arm up to wrap around his neck. Torsos pressed together, they followed the movement of their feet around the floor. They were extensions of one another, bodies traversing the same space. And yet they were distinct, the tension between them transcribed by the rigidity of their spines and the precision of their motion.
The dance unfolded exactly as Kurt had envisioned, their story - of strength, of love, of passion - told through partnership and the magic alchemy that only unfolded when they stepped out in front of an eager crowd. Kim was somehow both earthy and ethereal, flying lightly when Kurt lifted her and inhabiting her body solidly as they moved in tandem. The push and pull - the give and take - came so naturally to them now. They loved dancing together, and it showed.
The music drew to an end, the resolution of chords mirrored in the way they clung to one another, reunited. Applause rose around them, and they held on for another moment, smiles replacing their tense expressions of concentration.
“One more to go,” Kim whispered, her fingers tightening around Kurt’s.
“You’ll be brilliant,” he whispered back. “You already are.”
***
To no one’s surprise, Kim and Kurt’s tango scored three perfect 10s. Even Sue couldn’t find any major faults. Kurt thought she might have even smiled approvingly at them for a second as they turned to go. They didn’t get to enjoy that little victory for long, though, because the second the cameras were off them, they were sprinting for the dressing room.
Four minutes later they stood, winded, at the balcony. Cedes was going to have to fix their hair during the next commercial break, but they were clothed and presentable in time to see Blaine and Bitsy charm the ballroom with their jive. Kurt reached over to twine his fingers with Kim’s, grinning hard as he watched Blaine strike a pose opposite Bitsy in the middle of the floor.
They were wonderful as always - bright, cheerful, and energetic without tipping over into manic or saccharine. A glance around the ballroom was enough to show Kurt that the entire place was in love with them; people were on their feet, smiling and clapping along. On the floor, Blaine and Bitsy moved fast, turning through flicks and kicks with easy efficiency and panache. Kurt gave in to the impulse to watch Blaine’s face instead of his feet, and he was instantly captivated by Blaine’s giant grin.
“That boy is made of sunshine,” Kim commented, tucking herself in against Kurt’s side. Kurt hummed his agreement as they watched Blaine spin Bitsy across the floor.
“He’s having so much fun,” Kurt finally said. “It almost makes me feel bad about wanting to beat the pants off of him.”
“Oh, honey, you just want the pants off of him,” Kim said, smirking. She poked Kurt in the side. “But yeah. I love them, and I will happily watch them go down in very adorable flames.”
“That’s my girl,” Kurt said, grinning at her. A moment later, he joined in the audience’s enthusiastic applause for Blaine and Bitsy. The noise almost drowned out Kim’s evil giggles. It sounded like she would enjoy taking them down a little too much.
Kurt and Kim would have stayed to watch the judges’ comments, but Cedes beckoned to them from backstage, one hand on her hip and a frown on her face. Kurt knew better than to piss her off when she had easy access to hairspray and a curling iron, so he hurried over to her.
“You two can’t actually be in two places at once, you know,” Cedes said, barely giving Kurt enough time to shield his face before she started spraying his hair into place. Next to them, the makeup people were painting and powdering Kim within an inch of her life.
“I know. You’re right, Cedes,” Kurt said, trying to look suitably chastened. “But I just wanted to see…”
“They’re going to get a perfect score. And you’re going to take your girl and go warm up properly for the most important dance of your career,” Cedes said. “I don’t want to see you back out there until Santana and Maks’ music starts up.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Kurt replied. He heard a cheer from the ballroom and grinned. Across the room, Kim was grinning too.
“Fierce competition,” Kim said, holding out her hand for Kurt’s. “Bring it on.”
They ran for their favorite practice space, knowing that time was of the essence. Sure enough, they only had five minutes of warm up before a PA appeared in the doorway to let them know the next dance was starting shortly. Just as they peered around the curtain, two cellists were setting up on stage. Though Kurt hadn’t seen Santana and Maks’ rehearsal, he knew at once what Michael Jackson song they’d chosen.
“Smooth Criminal?” Kim whispered, and Kurt nodded without taking his eyes off the ballroom below. This was bound to be interesting. He wanted to see if they could pull it off.
The stage was backlit in red light, showing the cellists’ profiles on the otherwise empty stage. Their bows began to move, and the light behind them pulsed with the rhythm they set. On stage right, a spotlight warmed, revealing Santana, a hat pulled low over her eyes. Opposite her, Maks appeared in his own spotlight, one hand lifted high even as a hand on his hat pulled his gaze down.
The first verse began, and they faced one another for a series of sharp, paso-inspired moves. They came together, stalking down the stairs in front of the cellists and into one another’s arms. What followed was a tour de force - a hybrid of paso doble, cha cha, and tango that displayed Santana’s strength and precision. It was a bold choice, which wasn’t surprising coming from Maks.
As all sound dropped out and then built again toward their grand finale, Kurt could sense the entire audience holding its breath. This performance was sure to be a far cry from Blaine’s exuberance or Kim’s sass, and all the more memorable for it. The only question was how, in the viewers’ minds, it would measure up.
Santana and Maks were in the center of the floor now, circling one another, going faster and faster. Finally, Maks took Santana’s hands and swung her out so that her feet transcribed a wide circle, her back arched and her toes barely skimming the floor. He spun her to a stop and then pulled her back up sharply in time with the final notes, dropping her in a deep dip as the music ended.
With a gasp, the crowd reacted, and they were already on their feet applauding when Kurt and Kim headed backstage so they could make their way down to the floor. Kurt glanced at her when she squeezed his hand, but she only shrugged and gave him a considering look rather than competing to be heard over the noise. Luckily, Kurt knew exactly what she meant.
Santana and Maks had set a high bar, but not an insurmountable one. They’d taken a risk in emphasizing technique over flash, which had been known to hurt finalists before. And while response in the ballroom had been strong, there was really no telling how fans at home would react. It didn’t exactly inspire unbridled confidence, but it didn’t make Kurt throw his hands up in despair either. They had a shot - a good one. All they had to do was dance the hell out of their freestyle.
***
Downstage center, in the precious few seconds before the lights came up and their music began, they breathed together. Kurt’s hands rested lightly on Kim’s shoulders, and she reached up to skim her fingertips over his. They were entirely in synch, united in their approach and attitude and goal. They would be perfect, or nothing. And they would have a damn good time while they did so.
“Give it everything,” Kurt said, his mouth at Kim’s ear. “Show them how much it means to be here.”
Kim nodded, her body swaying slightly under his hands.
“Show them how hot and confident and fearless you are. Show them,” Kurt continued, “how fun a serious ass-kicking can be.”
He couldn’t see it, but he knew from the way her shoulders straightened and then relaxed that she was grinning. He grinned too. They were finally here, at the moment it felt like he’d waited a lifetime for. It was time.
Smoke filled the air, the lights rose, and the opening base notes of Bad throbbed behind them. They tripped forward together, shoulders rolling, and then shimmied in opposite directions in a move Kurt had lifted from Michael Jackson’s choreography. He’d figured a nod to the original could only help them.
They swung through some quick and sharp cha cha steps, incorporating extra turns and small lifts to keep things interesting. When the first chorus hit, Kim took the lead on some adorable hip hop moves which earned whoops from the audience. She looked like she was having the time of her life. Kurt knew for sure that he was.
Kurt had designed the dance to get harder and more spectacular as it went on, building the energy and excitement all the way to the end. This meant that neither of them could let down their focus, or Kim might fall on her face. Luckily, it seemed like the mood of the room and their own happy intensity was pulling them through. Kim practically ran toward him for the backflip, planting her foot in his hands and then soaring up and over even higher than they had practiced. The entire room gasped, and Kim threw her head back and laughed even as she turned into Kurt for their next step.
One more section of partnering, all fast turns and complicated footwork, and then it was time for their final lift. Kim braced her hands against Kurt’s shoulders while he lifted her overhead by the hips until she was almost perpendicular to the floor over his head. Once she was balanced, he spun them twice and then swung her back down and into his arms. She kicked her feet, still grinning wildly, and hopped down. They joined hands and ran for the judges table, where they popped up and sat down, their arms falling around one another just as the final notes sounded.
The audience went nuts. There was no other way to describe it. Kurt couldn’t hear Kim, who ended up having to mime to him that she wanted to go over to hug Grant and the kids. Jake latched onto Kurt like a vine, and Molly wouldn’t stop jumping up and down while holding onto Kim’s hand, so Tom finally gave up and ushered all four of them over to hear what the judges had to say. Kurt had the shock of his life when he looked up at the judges’ table and saw Sue smiling down at them.
Tom asked Bruno and Len to speak first, and they both had great things to say. Bruno managed to tone down his usual innuendo because of the children, and Len grinned and said their dance would have made Michael Jackson proud. Then everyone turned to Sue expectantly.
“I knew you could do it,” she said, nodding decisively. “Just like that time I shot a dancer out of a cannon. She was perfectly fine. And the head injury was really nothing to write home about.”
Kurt and Kim stared at her, not quite sure how to react.
“You were good, you idiots!” Sue shouted, waving them off. “I don’t hate you; go celebrate.”
The crowd began cheering again, obviously recognizing the Sue seal of approval when they heard it. Kurt turned to catch Kim’s eye, and they both started giggling, which caused both kids to crack up too. Kurt tickled Jake’s sides for good measure as they walked back to Grant, not wanting Jake to think about Sue’s particular brand of crazy any longer than he had to.
“You and Mommy were awesome,” Jake said solemnly when Kurt put him back in his seat. “You’re going to win.”
“From your mouth to the voting public’s ear,” Kurt replied, ruffling Jake’s hair. He kissed the tops of both kids’ heads, shared a high five with Grant, and then turned to take Kim’s outstretched hands. She was vibrating with energy and nearly pulled his arm out of its socket as she dragged him up the stairs for their scores.
Kurt kept a firm hold on both Kim’s hands as they waited for the scores. He knew Blaine was somewhere nearby, but he didn’t dare look for him - one sweet glance from Blaine, and Kurt would probably turn into a blubbering pile of mush. He also didn’t think it would be fair if he distracted Blaine right before his freestyle.
A cheer went up from the crowd as the judges gave their scores, each one revealing his or her 10 paddle with a flourish. Kim squealed in Kurt’s ear and dove for him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. They were both grinning foolishly as he swung her in circles, nearly hitting Santana and Maks and the camera crew. Kurt didn’t care, though. They’d done it - a perfect score for the night.
***
When he finally put Kim down, the commercial break was almost over. Santana waved them over to seats on the balcony, looping her arm through Kurt’s when he sat next to her.
“I figure I better restrain you from leaping over the railing and declaring your undying love to the pipsqueak once he’s done charming the ballroom,” Santana said, but she was smiling.
“I can always count on you,” Kurt said dryly. He patted her hand, and then looped his free arm around Kim’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t tell me a thing about this dance, so I can’t wait to see it.”
Both women smiled at him, and he remembered that they at least knew the song Blaine had picked. Kurt was all for surprises, but that just wasn’t fair. At least now the wait was finally over.
Blaine and Bitsy’s rehearsal package wrapped up on the screens flanking the stage, and the whole room went dark, then sparkly. Kurt laughed delightedly as he watched tiny lights flit all over the dance floor, finally resolving into a spotlight at center stage. Blaine was there, in a black fedora and sparkly jacket, grinning and snapping his fingers to the familiar opening riff of Black or White.
“He wanted to do Man in the Mirror,” Kim whispered, leaning into Kurt. “But I told him there’s obvious, and then there’s obvious.”
“And I told him it was too bad the theme wasn’t disco - he could have gone right for It’s Raining Men,” Santana said, grinning wickedly. Kurt just shook his head and motioned to both of them to hush and watch the performance. They could discuss Blaine’s apparent weakness for making dramatic pronouncements in overly-public forums later.
Down on the floor, Blaine and Bitsy were swinging straight into their freestyle, pulling off some sort of cha cha and jive fusion that wouldn’t have worked for anyone else. They were sexy and sassy and fun, engaging the whole crowd and keeping the energy high.
Blaine flipped Bitsy over his back, earning delighted gasps from the audience, and then they slid right into some old school hip hop. They’d managed to retain the flavor of Michael Jackson’s original while making it wholly their own. They were going to be tough to beat, but at the moment Kurt was too busy enjoying Blaine’s performance to care.
The music shifted, and Bitsy backed up to give Blaine the floor. On either side of Kurt, Kim and Santana inhaled sharply as they watched. Kim was the first to recover.
“I’m sorry. Is your boyfriend break dancing?” Kim asked.
“It looks that way, yes,” Kurt said, mouth agape.
“Oh my god the hobbit is my favorite!” Santana crowed, cracking up as Blaine spun around on the floor. “He has no shame.”
“Not really,” Kurt said, shaking his head and laughing helplessly.
“It’s kind of amazing,” Kim said. “Ridiculous, but amazing.”
Kurt nodded sagely in agreement, his eyes still tracking Blaine’s progress across the floor. He was back with Bitsy now, finishing out the dance with some flashy partnering. They let go briefly, practically skipping around the floor in opposite directions, getting the audience to clap along. Then Blaine caught Bitsy for a final lift and spin before they stumbled dramatically back toward the stairs and ended draped across them with their hands clasped.
Kurt, Santana, and Kim joined in the enthusiastic cheering as Blaine and Bitsy listened to the judges’ comments and received their scores, another set of perfect 10s. As the six contestants were hustled back down the stairs for the end of the show, Blaine caught Kurt’s eye and squeezed his hand briefly. Kurt smiled back at him, trying to impart all his pride, gratitude, excitement, and nerves with a single glance.
It was going to be a long night and an even longer day as they waited for the next night’s final results. Kurt was grateful that they - Kim, their families, and most of all, Blaine - would all be going through it together.