Dancing Man 2/6 - Dancing Queen
Author:kitsune_tails. Though just call me Jay.
Pairings: Mike/Kurt
Disclaimer: Glee and all affiliated characters are property of their respective owners. Not me.
Word Count:
Rating: PG now, different later.
Genre: Romancy, Self-Discovery.
Summary: Everything is a dance. Every step has one that follows. Every turn brings us to a new revelation, a new rotation. That’s how we live, dancing through life.
Songs: "Dancing Queen" by ABBA
Author's Note: Totally Unbetad as usual. Positive responses + good weather = lots of inspiration and new chapter. Hope you all enjoy. And, as a side note, I find Brittany REALLY hard to write...
Chapters: -1- -2- -3- -4-
You’re a teaser, you turn ‘em on,
Leave them burning and then you’re gone.
Looking out for another, anyone will do…
“What was he even doing there?” Puckerman yelled as they left the lockers, and their new kicker, behind. “This is stupid!” The murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembled football players. Finn rallied to Hummel’s defense, yelling about scoring and winning and some such. Matt rolled his eyes and looked bored at yet another shouting match between Puck and Finn, football versus Glee.
But Mike was lost in thought, tuning it all out. He’d heard it all before. The same insults that made his stomach tighten. The same freedom that he really wanted. It was invigorating to watch Kurt dancing. No inhibitions. No reservations. And he moved like it was something he’d been doing forever.
Another dancer. With steps so different from his own. Mike frowned and pulled his bag off the floor. Was that what was throwing off his tempo?
“Earth to Mike! Ya in there man?” Matt asked, confusion lacing his voice. He had hung back, the rest of the players walking down the hall, following the sounds of the old argument. Mike just blinked and smiled distractedly.
“Yeah yeah. Just thinking about what all I have to get done,” he lied, and shrugged. “Better way than listening to the bickering couple.” He motioned with his head and shot a wry grin towards Matt. The other laughed and shook his head.
“I hear ya. The team’s heading out for pizza though. You in?” his best friend asked. Mike shook his head and grinned.
“Can’t man. Calculus burning a hole in my head,” Mike replied. Matt groaned as they turned to walk towards their cars, moving in sync. It was their own dance. Mike’s fluid moves and Matt’s high-energy bounce and strut. Calm and collected and energetic. “We still working out tomorrow morning or is it a late night?” He asked, stepping outside and pausing in the evening sunshine. Matt just grinned.
“You know I gotta work out. I can’t keep up with your dancer’s abs!” he replied with a laugh. Mike just grinned and waved and headed towards his car.
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine,
You’re in the mood for a dance.
And when you get that chance…
Home was as it always was. His littlest sister and younger brother were playing in the yard as he pulled into the drive, bikes and balls and bats scattered across the brown crinkly grass. They yelled and waved as he made his way inside, too caught up in being kids to stop.
Which was good. Being a kid was great. There was no need to grow up too fast, too soon. Things would change enough. Mike smiled and slid into the house, instantly bombarded by the smell of food and the sound of jazz. He smiled.
Having an awesome stay at home dad made things fun.
Oh his father was measured and metered, every inch in control. But he was the emotional heart-beat of the Chang household, something that surprised his friends when they came to visit. Mr. Chang traded stocks from home. And that left him plenty of time to perfect his two great passions: cooking and pretending he was a longue singer in the 50s. Mike had learned from an early age that fedoras were cool and Frank Sinatra was the only true singer.
To which his mother would roll her eyes and heave an exasperated sigh. Mrs. Chang was as she ever was: hyper and effervescent in a business sense. She was the reason the family was in Lima. Her law firm sent her there to represent farmers. A huge promotion, a raise, a new home. It was too good to pass up. Even if it took her away from her beloved jazz music and White Sox.
He gave a nod to his father and disappeared upstairs, heading for his room. It was true that he had Calc homework. And an English essay that really should get written. But his mind was jumbled and his tempo was off. And then it clicked.
For all he’d heard of this Kurt Hummel, that was probably the first time he’d actually looked at the kid.
He’d seen him around. At the mall - or what passed for one here - or in the halls at either Arthur Middle or McKinley High. He always had this proud, pissed off look on his face. And his clothes were usually pristine. Unless he’d had a run in with Puckerman. But that look never vanished. And that’s everything he knew about Kurt Hummel, discounting the rumors and snickers the football players talked about.
Mike blinked and tossed his bag on his bed. He had no idea how the other boy moved though. Now that was odd. Mike liked to think he knew how everyone moved. Finn moved like he was still figuring out how to walk. Puck strutted like he owned the place, but his quick steps belied his nervousness. Heck, even Matt moved with a pace of someone unsure about where he was walking to. And the Cheerios moved as a pack, all strut and no substance. Well…most of them anyway. Santana and Quinn moved with aggression, with power. Santana and Brittany moved as if anyone didn’t already know the two were sharing a bed. And Brittany...
Brittany just moved.
She was another dancer. She was a friend. And, consequently was probably somewhere getting fed by his father or pilfering something from his sister’s room.
“Mikkkkke,” came a whine from outside his door, “I’m carrying too much. I can’t open the door.”
“It’s not closed Brittany,” he said with a grin, pulling the propped open door wide. She just looked at him and blinked.
“But I didn’t have a hand to push it open. Silly,” she berated, smiling before holding out one of the glasses of juice. Mike shook his head, sometimes just not really understanding how she waltzed through life and took the offered glass. “Why are you pouting?” she asked as she slipped into the room and instantly flopped into the giant squish chair in the corner of his room.
Mike blinked as she stared at him.
“I’m not moping,” he replied. Brittany just blinked.
“You look like Santana when she’s confused and wants something,” the blonde replied, looking at him curiously. “She pouts. You’re pouting. What’s wrong?” She sips her juice and looks at him, clearly not about to let the subject drop. Mike just groans and drops onto his bed. She’s far too perceptive some times.
“Just confused I guess. Kurt Hummel tried out for the football team this week…” he replied.
“Oh I knew that. I’m the one that made him…accidentally. He’s still kinda mad…” she says brightly, interrupting his train of thought. “And won’t do my hair.” She sips her juice for a moment before brightening. “So why are you confused by that?”
“Cause he danced today for the football team? Something Mr. Schu and Coach said about loosening up…” Mike shrugged. He personally agreed. The team was too tense, too caught up in their own dance of machismo and status in the school to win. He snorted. “I just don’t think Beyoncé is the best way to get them to do it.” He took a long slow sip from his glass.
“Kurt is a really good dancer,” Brittany supplied with a happy smile. “And he’s great at the Single Lady’s dance. His butt looks great when he does it.” Mike choked on what he was drinking and the blonde looked concerned, coming over to pat him on the back.
He didn’t want to admit that she was right. That was a possibility far too startling to be handled before Calc. But he knew he’d come back and think on it. He’d paid a bit too much attention to that aspect of the dance today. He took a deep breath and groaned.
Damn her perception.
Friday night and the lights are low.
Looking out for the place to go,
Where they play the right music…
They won a damn football game. McKinley High won a game. Mike half expected the world to end when the entire squad danced on field. He thought the world would end when they scored the touchdown. He thought everything was going to fall apart when they actually won. It was amazing. It was incredible.
And it was all because of Hummel.
He was too caught up in the celebration to thank the kicker personally. So he waited in the parking lot, perched on top of his car watching the doors to the locker room. Hummel took the longest, left the latest. He supposed it made sense. These were the guys that tormented him for years. Not exactly the kind of people you wanted to be naked around.
Mike groaned and kicked himself mentally. Mental images of naked Kurt were already leaping into mind. Not the best thing to see when trying to convince yourself that this was not a crush. Not something that completely changed the routine he was in.
Squeaky hinges broke him from his thoughts - and unbidden images of naughty things in dirty shower cubicles - and showed him the person he’d been waiting on. Hummel was immaculately dressed and styled, from hair to shoes. You would think he hadn’t just played a football game.
And then Mike got to watch him move.
It was fluid. Dancer’s movements were evident in every step and motion. There was a grace that seemed effortless and a pride that was overwhelming. But what shocked him the most was the fear that lurked in those steps and the loneliness that permeated his stance. He was a diva as much as Mike was a background dancer.
Because that was how they kept themselves safe.
Mike stayed where he was, just watching. He was out of the way, off in the corner of the lot and acting a bit like a creeper. But he really did not want to spoil the moment. It was nice to watch someone move uninterrupted. And even though Mike could see shields and defenses wrapped around the other boy, he knew he was seeing a bit of Kurt, not Hummel, but Kurt: the boy behind the mask and the designer sneer.
And he wanted to know more.
Wow that was scary.
Getting in the swing,
You come to look for a king.
Anybody could be that guy…
It was with that mindset Mike walked into Glee the next Monday along with Matt and Puck. He had no idea why Puck was there. But he and Matt had talked over the weekend. Dancing was fun. And really, where else could they get away with dancing all the time?
“And Santana and Brittany are there. And they’re hot,” Matt said enthusiastically. Mike said nothing.
He’d never thought of himself as gay. Or straight for that matter. He was Mike. Anything else just complicated things. He’d never dated anyone seriously, though the entire city of Lima though he and Brittany were star-crossed lovers. He’d never really looked at anyone like that. Well…ok maybe once or twice. But what did it matter?
It really confused him, boxes and labels. If he could be a dancing jock, why did he have to be straight or gay? He was Mike.
That was far more entertaining.
He found Glee to be amazingly relaxing. Not only was it fun to dance and let loose and sing, but no one looked at him weirdly for doing a little jig or enjoying himself. It was fine to be who he wanted to be here. It was expected.
The Invitational Mr. Schu organized to help the group work in tandem came quickly. He was surprised to see how often he and Kurt wound up near each other, playing two parts of the balance in the group against Puck and Finn’s size and Matt and Artie’s movement speed. It was as though Mr. Schu saw the dancer in both of them.
It was an interesting concept, but it meant he got to be around the other boy more. And that was rewarding in itself.
He was elated when he walked off the stage after the Invitational. They had a huge ovation, cheers and thrills and the audience loved them. For once, they felt like this was something that could actually happen. Even if Rachel was still being one giant diva. He jumped off the last few steps down to the choir room and grinned happily.
“Who would have thought to see you so happy over Glee,” a prim voice quipped. Mike just laughed it off.
“Who wouldn’t be happy after having crowds cheering for them so often?” he asked, grinning over at Kurt who stopped looking at his nails long enough to meet his eyes. Mike gulped down a bit of air unknowingly and watched the other boy for a moment. “Ya know…I never got to thank you. For the football stuff I mean. That was pretty cool.”
“It’s nothing. I was always limber. The team just needed to loosen up,” the other boy replied. He paused and looked at Mike with a hint of apprehension. “Though you dance pretty well for a jock.” He turned and walked to meet Mercedes as she came into the room. Mike blinked.
Had he just been complimented by the Tiny Dancer? He snorted. Tiny Dancer. So going on his iPod when he got home. He watched the two friends for a bit, feeling the nervous tension that had built back up while he had talked with Kurt subside. He groaned.
Not good.
Mike dropped into a chair and put his head in his hands. Things were escalating, running out of control. He had no idea when this tempo had changed, growing faster and stronger and oh so much louder. But he heard it, felt it, knew it clearly now. He looked up at the sound of humming to see Brittany standing there, rocking on the balls of her feet and watching Kurt and Mercedes talk, all the while humming some song.
“Mike, how old are you?” Brittany asked suddenly, stopping her humming. Mike raised an eyebrow warily.
“Why?” he asked. She looked at him with an exasperated sigh.
“Because I need it for the song. It says you’re only seventeen. But I don’t know if you really are. So how old?” she asks, looking at him as if this all makes sense. Mike flushes lightly, recognizing the lyrics.
“Brittany, I am not a Dancing queen!” he snapped and she just smiled.
Though he was definitely falling for one.
Pairings: Mike/Kurt
Disclaimer: Glee and all affiliated characters are property of their respective owners. Not me.
Word Count:
Rating: PG now, different later.
Genre: Romancy, Self-Discovery.
Summary: Everything is a dance. Every step has one that follows. Every turn brings us to a new revelation, a new rotation. That’s how we live, dancing through life.
Songs: "Dancing Queen" by ABBA
Author's Note: Totally Unbetad as usual. Positive responses + good weather = lots of inspiration and new chapter. Hope you all enjoy. And, as a side note, I find Brittany REALLY hard to write...
Chapters: -1- -2- -3- -4-
You’re a teaser, you turn ‘em on,
Leave them burning and then you’re gone.
Looking out for another, anyone will do…
“What was he even doing there?” Puckerman yelled as they left the lockers, and their new kicker, behind. “This is stupid!” The murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembled football players. Finn rallied to Hummel’s defense, yelling about scoring and winning and some such. Matt rolled his eyes and looked bored at yet another shouting match between Puck and Finn, football versus Glee.
But Mike was lost in thought, tuning it all out. He’d heard it all before. The same insults that made his stomach tighten. The same freedom that he really wanted. It was invigorating to watch Kurt dancing. No inhibitions. No reservations. And he moved like it was something he’d been doing forever.
Another dancer. With steps so different from his own. Mike frowned and pulled his bag off the floor. Was that what was throwing off his tempo?
“Earth to Mike! Ya in there man?” Matt asked, confusion lacing his voice. He had hung back, the rest of the players walking down the hall, following the sounds of the old argument. Mike just blinked and smiled distractedly.
“Yeah yeah. Just thinking about what all I have to get done,” he lied, and shrugged. “Better way than listening to the bickering couple.” He motioned with his head and shot a wry grin towards Matt. The other laughed and shook his head.
“I hear ya. The team’s heading out for pizza though. You in?” his best friend asked. Mike shook his head and grinned.
“Can’t man. Calculus burning a hole in my head,” Mike replied. Matt groaned as they turned to walk towards their cars, moving in sync. It was their own dance. Mike’s fluid moves and Matt’s high-energy bounce and strut. Calm and collected and energetic. “We still working out tomorrow morning or is it a late night?” He asked, stepping outside and pausing in the evening sunshine. Matt just grinned.
“You know I gotta work out. I can’t keep up with your dancer’s abs!” he replied with a laugh. Mike just grinned and waved and headed towards his car.
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine,
You’re in the mood for a dance.
And when you get that chance…
Home was as it always was. His littlest sister and younger brother were playing in the yard as he pulled into the drive, bikes and balls and bats scattered across the brown crinkly grass. They yelled and waved as he made his way inside, too caught up in being kids to stop.
Which was good. Being a kid was great. There was no need to grow up too fast, too soon. Things would change enough. Mike smiled and slid into the house, instantly bombarded by the smell of food and the sound of jazz. He smiled.
Having an awesome stay at home dad made things fun.
Oh his father was measured and metered, every inch in control. But he was the emotional heart-beat of the Chang household, something that surprised his friends when they came to visit. Mr. Chang traded stocks from home. And that left him plenty of time to perfect his two great passions: cooking and pretending he was a longue singer in the 50s. Mike had learned from an early age that fedoras were cool and Frank Sinatra was the only true singer.
To which his mother would roll her eyes and heave an exasperated sigh. Mrs. Chang was as she ever was: hyper and effervescent in a business sense. She was the reason the family was in Lima. Her law firm sent her there to represent farmers. A huge promotion, a raise, a new home. It was too good to pass up. Even if it took her away from her beloved jazz music and White Sox.
He gave a nod to his father and disappeared upstairs, heading for his room. It was true that he had Calc homework. And an English essay that really should get written. But his mind was jumbled and his tempo was off. And then it clicked.
For all he’d heard of this Kurt Hummel, that was probably the first time he’d actually looked at the kid.
He’d seen him around. At the mall - or what passed for one here - or in the halls at either Arthur Middle or McKinley High. He always had this proud, pissed off look on his face. And his clothes were usually pristine. Unless he’d had a run in with Puckerman. But that look never vanished. And that’s everything he knew about Kurt Hummel, discounting the rumors and snickers the football players talked about.
Mike blinked and tossed his bag on his bed. He had no idea how the other boy moved though. Now that was odd. Mike liked to think he knew how everyone moved. Finn moved like he was still figuring out how to walk. Puck strutted like he owned the place, but his quick steps belied his nervousness. Heck, even Matt moved with a pace of someone unsure about where he was walking to. And the Cheerios moved as a pack, all strut and no substance. Well…most of them anyway. Santana and Quinn moved with aggression, with power. Santana and Brittany moved as if anyone didn’t already know the two were sharing a bed. And Brittany...
Brittany just moved.
She was another dancer. She was a friend. And, consequently was probably somewhere getting fed by his father or pilfering something from his sister’s room.
“Mikkkkke,” came a whine from outside his door, “I’m carrying too much. I can’t open the door.”
“It’s not closed Brittany,” he said with a grin, pulling the propped open door wide. She just looked at him and blinked.
“But I didn’t have a hand to push it open. Silly,” she berated, smiling before holding out one of the glasses of juice. Mike shook his head, sometimes just not really understanding how she waltzed through life and took the offered glass. “Why are you pouting?” she asked as she slipped into the room and instantly flopped into the giant squish chair in the corner of his room.
Mike blinked as she stared at him.
“I’m not moping,” he replied. Brittany just blinked.
“You look like Santana when she’s confused and wants something,” the blonde replied, looking at him curiously. “She pouts. You’re pouting. What’s wrong?” She sips her juice and looks at him, clearly not about to let the subject drop. Mike just groans and drops onto his bed. She’s far too perceptive some times.
“Just confused I guess. Kurt Hummel tried out for the football team this week…” he replied.
“Oh I knew that. I’m the one that made him…accidentally. He’s still kinda mad…” she says brightly, interrupting his train of thought. “And won’t do my hair.” She sips her juice for a moment before brightening. “So why are you confused by that?”
“Cause he danced today for the football team? Something Mr. Schu and Coach said about loosening up…” Mike shrugged. He personally agreed. The team was too tense, too caught up in their own dance of machismo and status in the school to win. He snorted. “I just don’t think Beyoncé is the best way to get them to do it.” He took a long slow sip from his glass.
“Kurt is a really good dancer,” Brittany supplied with a happy smile. “And he’s great at the Single Lady’s dance. His butt looks great when he does it.” Mike choked on what he was drinking and the blonde looked concerned, coming over to pat him on the back.
He didn’t want to admit that she was right. That was a possibility far too startling to be handled before Calc. But he knew he’d come back and think on it. He’d paid a bit too much attention to that aspect of the dance today. He took a deep breath and groaned.
Damn her perception.
Friday night and the lights are low.
Looking out for the place to go,
Where they play the right music…
They won a damn football game. McKinley High won a game. Mike half expected the world to end when the entire squad danced on field. He thought the world would end when they scored the touchdown. He thought everything was going to fall apart when they actually won. It was amazing. It was incredible.
And it was all because of Hummel.
He was too caught up in the celebration to thank the kicker personally. So he waited in the parking lot, perched on top of his car watching the doors to the locker room. Hummel took the longest, left the latest. He supposed it made sense. These were the guys that tormented him for years. Not exactly the kind of people you wanted to be naked around.
Mike groaned and kicked himself mentally. Mental images of naked Kurt were already leaping into mind. Not the best thing to see when trying to convince yourself that this was not a crush. Not something that completely changed the routine he was in.
Squeaky hinges broke him from his thoughts - and unbidden images of naughty things in dirty shower cubicles - and showed him the person he’d been waiting on. Hummel was immaculately dressed and styled, from hair to shoes. You would think he hadn’t just played a football game.
And then Mike got to watch him move.
It was fluid. Dancer’s movements were evident in every step and motion. There was a grace that seemed effortless and a pride that was overwhelming. But what shocked him the most was the fear that lurked in those steps and the loneliness that permeated his stance. He was a diva as much as Mike was a background dancer.
Because that was how they kept themselves safe.
Mike stayed where he was, just watching. He was out of the way, off in the corner of the lot and acting a bit like a creeper. But he really did not want to spoil the moment. It was nice to watch someone move uninterrupted. And even though Mike could see shields and defenses wrapped around the other boy, he knew he was seeing a bit of Kurt, not Hummel, but Kurt: the boy behind the mask and the designer sneer.
And he wanted to know more.
Wow that was scary.
Getting in the swing,
You come to look for a king.
Anybody could be that guy…
It was with that mindset Mike walked into Glee the next Monday along with Matt and Puck. He had no idea why Puck was there. But he and Matt had talked over the weekend. Dancing was fun. And really, where else could they get away with dancing all the time?
“And Santana and Brittany are there. And they’re hot,” Matt said enthusiastically. Mike said nothing.
He’d never thought of himself as gay. Or straight for that matter. He was Mike. Anything else just complicated things. He’d never dated anyone seriously, though the entire city of Lima though he and Brittany were star-crossed lovers. He’d never really looked at anyone like that. Well…ok maybe once or twice. But what did it matter?
It really confused him, boxes and labels. If he could be a dancing jock, why did he have to be straight or gay? He was Mike.
That was far more entertaining.
He found Glee to be amazingly relaxing. Not only was it fun to dance and let loose and sing, but no one looked at him weirdly for doing a little jig or enjoying himself. It was fine to be who he wanted to be here. It was expected.
The Invitational Mr. Schu organized to help the group work in tandem came quickly. He was surprised to see how often he and Kurt wound up near each other, playing two parts of the balance in the group against Puck and Finn’s size and Matt and Artie’s movement speed. It was as though Mr. Schu saw the dancer in both of them.
It was an interesting concept, but it meant he got to be around the other boy more. And that was rewarding in itself.
He was elated when he walked off the stage after the Invitational. They had a huge ovation, cheers and thrills and the audience loved them. For once, they felt like this was something that could actually happen. Even if Rachel was still being one giant diva. He jumped off the last few steps down to the choir room and grinned happily.
“Who would have thought to see you so happy over Glee,” a prim voice quipped. Mike just laughed it off.
“Who wouldn’t be happy after having crowds cheering for them so often?” he asked, grinning over at Kurt who stopped looking at his nails long enough to meet his eyes. Mike gulped down a bit of air unknowingly and watched the other boy for a moment. “Ya know…I never got to thank you. For the football stuff I mean. That was pretty cool.”
“It’s nothing. I was always limber. The team just needed to loosen up,” the other boy replied. He paused and looked at Mike with a hint of apprehension. “Though you dance pretty well for a jock.” He turned and walked to meet Mercedes as she came into the room. Mike blinked.
Had he just been complimented by the Tiny Dancer? He snorted. Tiny Dancer. So going on his iPod when he got home. He watched the two friends for a bit, feeling the nervous tension that had built back up while he had talked with Kurt subside. He groaned.
Not good.
Mike dropped into a chair and put his head in his hands. Things were escalating, running out of control. He had no idea when this tempo had changed, growing faster and stronger and oh so much louder. But he heard it, felt it, knew it clearly now. He looked up at the sound of humming to see Brittany standing there, rocking on the balls of her feet and watching Kurt and Mercedes talk, all the while humming some song.
“Mike, how old are you?” Brittany asked suddenly, stopping her humming. Mike raised an eyebrow warily.
“Why?” he asked. She looked at him with an exasperated sigh.
“Because I need it for the song. It says you’re only seventeen. But I don’t know if you really are. So how old?” she asks, looking at him as if this all makes sense. Mike flushes lightly, recognizing the lyrics.
“Brittany, I am not a Dancing queen!” he snapped and she just smiled.
Though he was definitely falling for one.