forget your troubles, happy days are here again / you better chase all your troubles away

[highf]

So here's what you missed on Glee:

After getting slushied in the face for years and dealing with Karofsky's bullying, Kurt's decided to take a few defense lessons from the Black Widow herself - ( "I... just wanted to say thank you, again, for letting me participate in this course, and how much I'm looking forward to future lessons. You kind of blew

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[highf]

His smile widens as soon as Maxxie raises his hands in surrender. Some people might say that it's all about the chase, that a game isn't a game well won unless both people end up breathless, spent, but Kurt is more than happy to take an easy victory when it's offered to him, especially when it comes as the result of careful work on his end. He's been keeping his gaze out for Maxxie ever since the assignment (even before, if he's to be honest), and there's no small amount of pride on his end when he's able to get within that arm's reach. Usually, Kurt feels, it's him who ends up inadvertently meeting the blond's gaze, flushing at the mere sight of it.

The last detail hasn't changed even now, though Kurt feels that for once, he can probably blame it on the alcohol.

But he lets out a gasp of surprise when Maxxie gives chase, even laughs under his breath before he starts after the blond again- games like this might not be Kurt's forte, but he'll be damned if he gives up before giving it his all. "You're only prolonging the inevitable!" he calls out after Maxxie, before quickly darting around obstacles and running outside, feeling the cool night air brush his cheeks, losing himself in it just long enough to realize that he's lost track of the other boy.

"Okay, seriously," he announces, tossing his balloon in his hand. "Sooner or later, the moonlight is going to hit your carefully coiffed hair, and then it'll be all over."

[dancin_maxxie]

"But what a beautiful way to go!" he calls back, heedless of giving away his location. The tree he's hiding behind isn't that thick after all. He's probably given himself away already just by breathing.

On the off chance that he hasn't, Maxxie prepares his only defense. The condom-filled-with-water that he pocketed isn't big, but that's the point. He picked one easily hidden in his pocket, tied off short so it's roughly the size of an apple. He slips it out carefully, eyeing Kurt who has almost walked in front of him, and picks out where he's going to aim. All that care though, it goes down the drain when he jumps out from behind the tree with a triumphant cry.

"Ha-ooh fuck!" The dim light hides a small patch of mud, just slick enough to send Maxxie flailing for balance. He's a dancer. The crisis is easily averted. He keeps his footing. But the water balloon sets sail, falling in a pathetic trajectory that leaves it exploding on the ground a full foot from Kurt's feet.

"Fuck," Maxxie says again, hiding his face as he laughs.

[highf]

He can't help it. For a couple of seconds, Kurt merely stares at the small splash of water at his feet, lips parted in surprise, an anticlimatic end to the quick rush of his pulse. But soon enough, his gazes lifts again to meet Maxxie's own, and Kurt finds himself dissolving into laughter, quickly trying to hide it behind knuckles pressed hastily against his lips. "You almost had me there," he admits, before wasting no more time in rushing over to Maxxie's side, stalling only for the last couple of feet, doubting that the blonde has yet another back-up hidden on his person, a suspicion that Kurt does his best to confirm with a quick glance over.

"But alas, that spirit's possess'd with haste, that wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes," he says at last, voice lowering in pitch before he raises the balloon again, almost wishing he didn't have to ruin Maxxie's outfit. But a game is a game, after all. "Any last wishes before I knock you out of the competition?"

[dancin_maxxie]

He's fucked. There's no two ways around it. He could keep running, but there's a point where running stops being fun and starts becoming a drag, and he doesn't want to get too far away from the party. Nope, better to stay still now and take his licks. He does however hold up one hand, an open-palmed show of surrender, and starts to shrug out of his jacket. Of all people, he figures Kurt will allow it.

That much courtesy he expects, but a last wish? He carefully folds his jacket and places it, for the moment, on a low-hanging branch, knowing it won't be there long, all the while showing his pleased surprise on his face. A final request for the dying man? "Ooh, I better make this good," Maxxie muses, steepling his fingers and touching them to his lips.

But there's only one option. He clasps his hands behind his back with a smile entirely too confident for someone about to get hit in the chest with a water balloon, but tinged with that hopefulness that comes from uncertainty. "How about a kiss before I go?"

[highf]

The jacket gets an amused and appreciative raise of the brow as it's slung over a nearby branch. Kurt can't complain. He'd do the very same thing, if he was at Maxxie's mercy; he's done the same thing countless times at McKinley, and can't help but feel that marginal amount of appreciation over the fact that even bullies seemed to understand his desire to protect clothing that, in all likelihood, was worth a week's pay for any one of the few that took up part-time jobs on the side. Once the task is done, Kurt waits with a grin, continuing to toss the balloon from hand to hand and waiting for the request to be made.

It's a miracle that he doesn't drop the balloon.

"Um." Only a kiss, right? Kurt can hear at least half a dozen people berating him already in his head, can hear Blaine gently encouraging Kurt to experiment more, to get out and be comfortable with who he is, or Rachel telling him that the good ones aren't just going to wait around for something to happen. He can even hear Santana and Puck both urging him on to just go for it, but all of it doubles over and causes a pounding in his chest as Kurt swallows and wonders if his pause has already dug him too far in. Kisses are supposed to be romantic. Long-anticipated. And while he can't even lie about having speculated in the past over what it might be like to kiss someone like Maxxie, the reality is a lot more daunting to face. "I've never exactly, I-"

But the pounding only worsens, jarring with the slight dizziness from the earlier flutes of champagne (or maybe it's just his nerves; Kurt can't tell), and the brunet decides to just try, stepping closer until they're less than an arm's length apart.

[dancin_maxxie]

Maxxie knows that Kurt doesn’t have a lot of experience. He can guess that much from their conversations, from the way he shies away from compliments and certain forms of attention. That’s not a definite sign. He can think of plenty of people who are getting shagged regularly that don’t have that kind of confidence. But from Kurt, from someone who can do what he can do, it’s noticeable. So Maxxie knows he has to be careful, not push too hard, and knows he’s not getting into Kurt’s pants any time soon. But he genuinely hadn’t expected him to balk at a kiss.

The pause stretches on way too long. It’s not long itself, but it’s too much for what should be a light-hearted, flirtatious request. When it’s coupled with those words, Maxxie realizes his error. As much as he wants to kiss Kurt, it’s not enough to take his first kiss from him (or however close to it it is, with that phrasing). Maxxie’s own first kiss wasn’t anything special. It was kind of crap and messy and nervous, to be honest. He doesn’t put a lot of stock in cinematic quality firsts. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to kiss Kurt on a whim. A strong whim, but he knows himself.

Kurt steps forward and Maxxie pauses, smiles, and leans forward. His lips press against his cheek, just off from the corner of his mouth. But when Maxxie pulls back, he hesitates just slightly, hovering a little ways away from Kurt’s lips. Maxxie’s not going to take that first kiss, but if Kurt wants to give it to him, that’s another story.

[highf]

All in all, it's only the brief brush of lips against his own. Kurt knows that. Though every part of him, down to the marrow deep in each bone, longs for a romance that might sweep him off his feet, Kurt knows that isn't what's happening between the two of them right here. Not right now. He knows that he should be careful about assuming anything from the other party, after so erroneously thinking that Blaine liked him, that Blaine was going to set aside everything to sing to him, to spark a relationship. Life doesn't work the way they do in movies, and although Kurt retains just enough buried hope to think that this, whatever they have, doesn't completely exclude the possibility of something else entering their lives, the struggle to figure out just how high he wants to place the bar for himself is not an easy one.

Maxxie's been a good friend, in the short amount of time that they've known each other, finally spoken with one another. Maybe that's an argument against this. But his stomach starts turning as soon as Maxxie's lips brush next to his cheek. Before the blond can pull completely away, Kurt finds his hand tentatively reaching out to brush down the line of Maxxie's' jaw, eyes still fearful, and yet almost expectant.

He can't make the final push, not all his own.

[dancin_maxxie]

This is stupid. This is going to end badly. Kurt's never been kissed and Maxxie is regularly fucking two guys, more when he feels like it. He can see the trepidation in his look; it's not all that is there, but it's impossible to ignore. And yet.. Maxxie's wanted to kiss Kurt since the second he laid eyes on him. He likes him, genuinely, and he also likes the idea of getting under his skin, getting closer to him and seeing that part of him that Kurt doesn't even know exists yet.

In Maxxie's experience, one kiss has never ruined a friendship. Made it awkward for a bit? Sure. But for all the pregnant pauses and looks into each other's eyes, they're in the middle of a game of Assassins at Kurt's eighteenth birthday party. This isn't the height of romance and Kurt can't be blind to that.

He takes a step forward, closing that spare distance between them, his hands briefly resting on Kurt's hips. Taking too long makes more of this than should be-- Not that it isn't important, but it isn't as if they're waiting for the soundtrack they can't hear to crescendo into the perfect moment. Taking too long also lets doubt and awkwardness slip in, and Maxxie won't have that. He cups Kurt's cheek with a gentle, firm hand and tilts his head down just so. Maxxie leans in for his mouth to meet his, more than a brush of lips but not demanding anything. Simple, sweet but not without that note of wanting.

[highf]

Every move is slow and deliberate, every breath held for fear of corrupting the calm. It's the little things that betray him, for all his attempts at control- a slight intake of breath as Maxxie's hands rest on his hips, the flush that rises over his cheeks, and the sigh that slips from him as their lips finally meet. If he was capable of taking a step back, Kurt Hummel would have realized that none of the details were in place. It wasn't a date. They were standing not far back from a bar that meant very little to either of them. They'd only just started to know each other, more familiar with one another as performers than anything else, and all that Kurt truly knew of Maxxie was that he felt comfortable in his own skin. Enough to kiss a boy on his eighteenth birthday.

But Kurt Hummel's dreams are so often the sort that leave him blind to things like these, chasing after romance, chasing after the unattainable. Every last detail is filed away, and a few altered, a story of two boys under the moonlight already weaving itself into words that he'll relay later in the evening, most likely to Puck, if the boy can stand to sit through it. Maxxie's lips are softer than Kurt anticipated, no chafing, not dry, and Kurt finds himself tilting his head just so, his fingers still lingering by the other boy's jaw, as though to coax him closer. He's never done this before, feels hopelessly clumsy as his lips press back against Maxxie's own, but if there is to be a perfect moment, let it last as long as it can.

When he does finally break contact, it's to take a fuller breath, one that he hasn't allowed himself since the request, and a soft noise falls from his lips, disbelieving, as he clears his throat.

[dancin_maxxie]

It's a good kiss. Maxxie's had lots of kisses, enough that the number would (maybe should) be embarrassing to someone else his age. It's not the most amazing kiss he's ever had, not the sweetest or the sexiest. From Maxxie's perspective, it hasn't earned any superlatives. But it's a good kiss, nothing to be ashamed of or regret, and when his eyes open, they're bright, pleased, hopeful. Maxxie licks his lips as though there's a chance of tasting Kurt in the act. It's the kind of kiss that makes him want more, but not demand it.

His lips quirk into a smile, subdued in deference to the moment, but there's no denying that he's happy, not just with the kiss, but Kurt's reaction. "Alright?" he asks softly, not moving away just yet, one hand still resting high on Kurt's hip, his fingers idly trailing their way, feather light, down Kurt's neck.

[highf]

If there's anything Kurt wasn't expecting, it was for the aftermath to be even more impossible than the kiss itself. During the kiss, observation bled away any sense of embarrassment, the knowledge that a first kiss- a first real kiss- was only something that would happen once in a lifetime, take it or leave it. But now that he finds himself coming down from the thrill, his ears are pounding, his skin tingling where Maxxie's fingers lightly brush, and Kurt is suddenly struck by an abundance of thought. How was it for Maxxie? It doesn't seem like a stretch to say that this wasn't Maxxie's first kiss, couldn't have been, and probably not by a long shot. Kurt closes his eyes, his lips still turned in a smile, but mind all caught up in trying to tell himself that it's fine, that it should be fine if this wasn't perfect.

"Yes," he nods, inhaling a shaky breath at the sensation against his neck as his own hand searches for a place to rest, settling on a spot just above Maxxie's collarbone, where neck and shoulder meet. The other hand, he realizes, is still holding the water balloon, and it's with a helpless little laugh and an impulse that he just tosses it away, over his shoulder, hearing the soft splash of water as it spills over grass. In a vague attempt at humor, the result of a young boy trying not to set himself up for a fall (remember Blaine, he tells himself), he nods.

"Think you earned that," he adds, tilting his head towards the direction of the throw.

[dancin_maxxie]

The game is the last thing on his mind, but Maxxie laughs at the gesture nonetheless, his smile bright and amused. One kiss, and a good one, is definitely worth the reprieve, he agrees. But such a vote of approval makes him wonder.

There's a hundred great things about sex, about snogging, about fooling around and innocent flirting that don't need to be named, but for Maxxie the simplicity of it appeals, too. He can stand here, staring into Kurt's eyes, memorizing the lines of his face with the critical eye of an artist, and think of nothing but his lips, his neck, of where to touch him next, of what might happen between them. The party's there; he can hear the music spilling out into the open air, voices and laughter, but it's just a thing.

"Does that mean we're not going back to the party for a bit?" he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes as his hand travels, slow but sure, from Kurt's hip to the small of his back.

[highf]

If the hand on his hip was enough to cause thoughts to short-circuit, it's precious little compared to the fingertips sliding slowly up his back, Kurt blinking at the sensation, his hips shifting just a touch. Blinking as he meets Maxxie's gaze, his lips part, words useless to him, out of his reach. Years spent picturing the theater, the subtle touch of hand to hand, and suddenly his imagination goes wild, stripping further away from the rest. But the unsettling feeling in his stomach seems to be too much, too fast, and Kurt knows himself better than this, feels his hopes already climbing.

He'll only have himself to blame, at this rate.

"I, uh. I think usually, kisses come after a date," he breathes with a huff of a laugh, pressing his lips together. "At least in my neck of the woods. And I didn't want to assume- not that I'm trying to pressure, but it's-"

[dancin_maxxie]

A date. Shit.

Maxxie tries very, very hard not to simply freeze with Kurt in his arms, like he's said something weird or off-putting. Even though he has. There's nothing wrong with the concept. Kurt's not at fault for saying that. It's perfectly reasonable. But it's not exactly what Maxxie's used to and, more importantly, it's kind of impossible. Maxxie will kiss and mess around and more with anyone who's game and that he likes, but dating is something else entirely. It's something he's pretty sure is forbidden by his arrangement with Marshall. Whether it is or not, the thought of going on a date with Kurt while he's messing around with Marshall is enough to make his stomach flip. And not in the good, butterflies kind of way.

"No, I--" Maxxie glances down as he takes half a step back, releasing Kurt. "You're not pressuring, I just.. can't. I can't do that really. Sorry."

[highf]

It feels like there aren't expectations, until suddenly they all come falling down, brick by brick. In the grand scheme of things, this matters very little. (It isn't even his first kiss, a voice in his head reminds him; Karofsky took that, and that didn't pan out in the right way, either.) They've only just gotten to know each other. Kurt knows plenty of guys at McKinley who jump around from girl to girl; there's no reason to assume that orientation would change those numbers. Now, it's the discomfort that comes across more clear than anything else. The fact that the night air is slightly humid still, that the shoulder of his blazer is chafing, that the right side of his left sock is wet from where he ran through tall grass.

First kiss, maybe, but as pop culture's told him countless times, he shouldn't have expected too much from that.

"Back to the party, then," he declares in a voice too high and words too quick, offering a quick smile before he turns on his heel and retreats before Maxxie has a chance to speak (or at least, allowing himself enough time to pretend like he doesn't hear at all).

[dancin_maxxie]

He tries. He really does try to call after Kurt. His mouth opens but no words come out because... Well, what could he say? Explaining about Marshall would only make things worst, make Maxxie look more like an ass and maybe make Kurt feel irrationally guilty. Justifying some other way, claiming he isn't ready for a relationship as he would have said months ago, would be awkward as well. He can't take it back and ask Kurt out on a date anyway.

No, he's just got to deal with the fact that he has royally fucked up everything.

Maxxie watches Kurt walk away, too brisk, back too straight, and looks just as crestfallen as he feels. Feeling a heel, he takes his time retrieving his jacket, not wanting to go back into the party looking like the miserable clod he is.