Like Shooting Stars (1/4)

[froggydarren]

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Wish Right Now

“You know I didn’t want to come, San,” Kurt is aware of the slightly whiny tone in his voice as he glares at Santana, “I don’t like the whole night club scene, I have no need to be parading myself in front of people with dance moves or hook up with a random asshole who’ll be hard to get rid of in the morning or who’ll rob me while I’m sleeping.”

“The solution to that is to go to his place and sneak out in the morning.”

“Thank you, Ms. Lopez, we’re all aware of what you do with your prey,” Rachel pipes in and Kurt’s for a moment glad to have her around, “but, Kurt, there’s nothing wrong with going out and having a little fun. I’m not going to leave with anyone else, not when I have Brody to go home to.”


He shoots his best friend a murderous ‘Et tu, Brutus’ look, but more vicious because she is bringing up her current beau, Brody, a guy Kurt cannot stand to even think of, let alone put up with when Rachel brings him around.

“That’s if he deems it convenient to spend time with you,” he snarks, and he can’t bring himself to regret his words when he notices Rachel’s glare.

“It’s dancing, Kurt, it’s not rocket science or an elaborate plan to de-virginize you,” Santana snaps, “I thought Doctor Who took care of that one.”

“His name is Adam,” Kurt rolls his eyes, “And no, we... it... wasn’t like that.”

“Not for his lack of trying,” Rachel yet again supplies unhelpfully.

“Call it a rebound night then,” Santana shrugs and pushes the other two towards the dance floor where they barely find some space.

A song or two in, Kurt is finally relaxing and not feeling as uncomfortable with the people around crowding against him. He lets his mind drift to memories brought up by Santana’s remarks earlier, about dating and his love life. He’s twenty-one, finishing up another year at NYADA, and she’s right, he does need to start thinking about getting out more, but this way is decidedly not his style. He’s dated before, although none of the relationships lasted long enough to be worth even mentioning to anyone else but Rachel and Santana. Those two are impossible to get around since they live with him, and Kurt can’t get away with being out on dates without them knowing. He has tried, but coming home with a hickey on his neck one night was enough for both the girls to be asking him for, or rather demanding details any time he was out of the loft and they had no way of accounting for his time.

He never shares details, though, that’s how Santana doesn’t really know the status of his virginity or the reason he’s so opposed to even the thought of a random hookup. He made mistakes in his freshman year, and he’s not willing to repeat them.

“Come on, you know how to dance, Kurt,” Rachel pulls him along and out of his thoughts, “we’ve both seen you before and no one cares about anyone else in the club. It’s just us.”

“And a dance floor full of drunk uncoordinated frat kids,” Kurt grumbles to himself when he gets bumped into yet again by a tall brunet man with a smirk on his face.

Slowly and reluctantly, he gives in to the music again, moving along with the girls and laughing at their more enthusiastic and exaggerated dance moves. He joins in when a few older songs play and they all remember the choreography from their glee club days. Then the music changes to songs he recognizes and considers his favorites.

Can we pretend that airplanes / In the night sky / Are like shooting stars?

Kurt lets himself be led by the music and pays little attention to his surroundings, to Rachel or Santana, knowing that they will leave him alone through some songs. His eyes are closed and he feels people crowding around him, but he’s too immersed in the music to complain. Then a pair of hands grabs onto his hips and he is startled for a moment.

I could really use a wish right now / wish right now

“I’m sorry,” a voice, loud enough to be heard over the music but still with a soft and apologetic tone to it comes from behind Kurt, and he sighs and nods in acknowledgment.

He wants to just continue dancing alone, moving to the music, but instead of letting go, the hands stay on his waist, and whoever it is behind him moves along with the rhythm. Kurt’s first reaction is to turn around and shout the person down, but when he does whip his head around, he can’t. The boy in front of him, looking to be around his age, is ... Kurt can’t think of another word but pretty, and he’s smiling bashfully, a blush on his cheeks and the lights reflecting in his eyes.

“Dance with me?” he asks, and Kurt nods before he has a chance to overthink the decision and let reality sink in.

They move to the song and find a rhythm together so fast that Kurt can’t seem to wrap his head around it. His dance partner doesn’t seem to be as shocked. He just moves to the music like it’s flowing through him and moves Kurt right along with him. The music changes and they automatically adapt their motions without even a second’s hesitation. Kurt expects words, expects the man to push, to try to get closer, but there’s still a safe distance, regardless of how close they get because of other people crowding around them. Eventually, Kurt lifts his arms from where his palms were hovering just over his companion’s elbows and wraps them loosely around the shoulders and allows himself to get lost in the moves and the music.

It feels like hours have passed when he starts feeling the tiredness and thirst catching up to him, and his eyes dart over to the bar, where he immediately spots Santana eyeing him with a smile on her face and a bottle of water in her hand. She’s obviously been watching him and Kurt blushes and pulls away from the guy, muttering an “Excuse me” that he’s not quite sure is loud enough. But there’s a sudden need in him to get away, to get back to the safety of people he knows, because he’s not entirely sure what happened.

***

On the dance floor, Blaine stares at the boy’s back slipping away through the dancing crowd, completely puzzled by the sudden departure.

“Nice one, Anderson,” Sebastian is suddenly next to him and talking all too loudly into his ear, “Get his number?”

Blaine shakes his head and tries to mumble his response so Sebastian doesn’t have unnecessary fuel for making fun of him, “Not even his name.”

He looks up to try to spot the beautiful boy who danced along with him and moved like a dream, but there is no sign of the face he didn’t get to look at nearly enough. From the moment his dance partner walked away with barely a glance back, Blaine's been wondering what scared him off. Then he tries to think of what would be enough to make him run and what he said or did that he could've done differently. The only conclusion he comes up with is that he came on too strong, that he should've made it clear that he only wanted to dance. He doesn't know if that's what scared the boy away. He doesn't know if it wasn't the exact opposite and he just didn't make a move fast enough. But Blaine knows for sure that he's already hoping for another chance to dance and to look into those bright blue eyes.

What he doesn't know is that Kurt is already on his way home, fielding off curious questions from Rachel and Santana, who somehow ended up not finding someone else to leave with. While they're waiting for a cab, Kurt tries to process what happened on the dance floor. It's new to him, to find someone he connects with on this level, to be able to match his moves to another guy as naturally.

"Why didn't you…" Santana starts, but seems to rethink the question. "Did you at least get his name? Because whatever you two did on that dance floor, that was hot, Hummel."

"I didn't," Kurt admits quietly and regrets not asking for a moment but then shakes the feeling off, "it's not like I would've been more than another name on a list."

"You don't know that!" Rachel protests, "And even if that's the case, it could've been worth it."

"Not for me, it wouldn't. Not that it matters, I'll never see him again anyway," the sigh comes off a little more disappointed than Kurt's intending, but thanks to the silences during the conversation, they're already at their loft, and Kurt immediately hides away behind his partition.

Meanwhile, in the club, Blaine's nursing a drink, watching Wes and Sebastian with a humorless expression and promising himself he'll make sure that if he gets another shot at dancing with the boy, it will be clear that he has no ulterior motives.

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