Life was good to Kurt Hummel. He had a loving family – Burt and Carole made sure of proving that, checking on him two times a week, telling him how much he is missed at home and how every Christmas, anniversary and Thanksgiving is so far away; he also had a nice apartment, not really living in a shoebox, like he imagined he would, before coming to New York, and good, trusty friends. He was in the city of all the possibilities, living his dream with his best friends from high school, finishing his last year at the New York Ballet Academy, dancing his way through life. The only thing that was missing was another heart he could belong to, a lover, a soul mate. Instead, he had lonely mornings, a quiet apartment, sleepless nights, an empty chair at his kitchen table and an equally empty space in his bed, to which he woke up every day and clutched at, every night. Life was still good, but Kurt couldn’t be happy.

So, he wasn’t. He gave up on whishing and hoping to find a man he could trust and love, a man who would be entirely his, because, really, it seemed that this simply wasn’t in his books. His soul mate didn’t exist. As simple as that.

Kurt became quieter, keeping his emptiness behind thick walls of stubbornness, steeling his hard exterior in hope of becoming stronger, one day. Because, he thought, one day, his sadness and pain will not matter anymore – the mornings spent alone, the silence stretching along his apartment’s walls, the nights when he couldn’t find his sleep, even the cold empty space in his bed – it will all cease to be a burden. One day. Because Kurt will learn how to live without that person who would fill all that emptiness. But for now, he will focus on dancing and on living one day at a time, keeping his heavy heart protected and his head held high. As long as he could stay in one piece, he could make it.

The rest is to be discovered.  

~*~

            Every Friday night Kurt went to the most obnoxious, annoying, off-putting, and sometimes gross gay bar in New York – The Rainbow. The name itself made you want to puke, but hey, who gives a damn about what it’s called like, when you could always find a hook up and drink yourself stupid? Not that Kurt did any of that, but those seemed to be the reasons for which the club was full every night. Even though he hated the place, he loved the freedom it gave him, when he danced there. Nobody knew who he was, or what his name was, but everybody wanted to see his performance.

That’s right, Kurt Hummel, one of the best ballet dancers at New York Ballet Academy was also one of the most sought after pole dancers in New York city. He received good offers from many gay bars, some of them even crazy, but he never left The Rainbow. It was ironic, really, but he didn’t want to go from one bar to another, switching places all the time. He was content with his status and his weekly paycheck right where he was.

            Wanting to avoid being seen in the crowd, even if no one knew him, Kurt always entered through the back door, since the owner gave him a key. This way he didn’t have to fight his way through a mass of heated bodies groping each other, hands seeking out something to grab and loud shitty music. Thank God he could choose his own songs to dance to.

            “Hey, Kurt! What took you so long? You’re usually half an hour earlier.” Kurt startled, coming back from his musings.

            “Sam? What are you doing here?”

            Sam shrugged, flashing his trademark wide smile in Kurt’s direction, but not quite meeting his eyes.

            “I just came to watch you dance. I haven’t done that in a while.”

            Kurt didn’t look convinced at this excuse and decided to find out the truth. Whatever was troubling Sam, he was going to find out.

            “Well, why don’t you come with me in the changing room and we’ll talk?”

            “Sure. Lead the way.”

            “I’m sure you already know the way, Sam, but as always, it’s my pleasure.” Kurt grinned, glad that Sam gave him a genuine half smile.

            They made their way to the changing room as fast as possible, since neither of them wanted any encounters with random drunk guys. When Kurt reached the door, he opened it with practiced ease and got inside, locking the door after Sam. He didn’t want any interruptions while they talked.

            “So… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to forcibly extract it from you?” Kurt always decided to take the direct path towards a problem. He didn’t beat around the bush. It wasn’t practical or useful.

            Sam knew though how to avoid Kurt’s tactic, opting to only smile at him, just to annoy him a bit, and then change the subject, in which case Kurt would get even more irritated.

            “Sam, I’m warning you, this smile-dumbly-then-change-the-subject kind of thing is getting old, and you know that. Now just drop the act and tell me what’s wrong.”

            The blonde averted his eyes once again and opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and closed it again. Kurt was getting antsy looking at him. He put his bag on the floor and took Sam’s hand, leading him to a bench in the corner of the room. Sam followed obediently, but didn’t say anything, just stared at their hands. Kurt waited. If his friend wasn’t going to talk openly, then forcing him would only steel his resolve of not spilling anything. Or it would make him mad, and Kurt knew better than that, since he got the silent treatment from Sam on several occasions. So waiting seemed the best choice in this case. It really didn’t matter that he had a show in twenty minutes or so.

            After a few moments of silence – well, almost silence, since the music was blasting downstairs, the whole bar already crammed with bodies – Sam took a deep breath and looked at Kurt. He seemed even more troubled and sad and Kurt didn’t know what to do.

            “I’m sorry, Kurt, but I really came here just to see you. I really missed you these days, but you were so busy with your practice and I didn’t want to distract you or anything, so...”

            Kurt deflated. So that was it. ‘Okay then – he thought. Have it your way’. He rose from the bench and went to take his short leather pants and his black mask out of his bag. Sam watched him change into his stage “costume”, since Kurt didn’t mind. They were comfortable enough now to see each other undress again, after they’ve been together for a while. The fact that it didn’t work out didn’t make them lose the ease with which they moved around each other. It only added strength to their friendship. Well, that is to be seen, considering the fact that Sam couldn’t tell Kurt what was troubling him.

            While Kurt appeared to be debating whether he should choose the shoes with the highest heels or the ones with more glitter on them, Sam approached him from behind and put his hand on his shoulder.

            “Look, Kurt, I’m sorry. I promise we’ll talk, but after your show, ok? I just need some time to think about how to tell you what’s bothering me and seeing you dancing will take my mind off my problems spectacularly. That’s why I came. To clear my head. So… can I wait for you afterwards?”

            “Of course, Sam. When they’ll finish worshipping my fabulous body, I’ll be all yours. And you better tell me then, or I’ll hurt you with my sharp hellish heels and leave you to bleed on the sidewalk!”

            “Yeah, yeah, go and blow their minds. I’ll meet you at the back door afterwards.”

            Kurt couldn’t wait until he was finished with his performance. Seeing Sam so troubled and out of character knotted his stomach. He let Sam go and closed the door after him. He needed some warming exercises first and a few minutes to himself, to shed his own skin and become his other self – the gay bar superstar Kurt Hummel pole dancer extraordinaire. When he’ll go on that stage, he won’t be Kurt anymore. He’ll be the Black Swan. There’ll be plenty princes to charm, but only one boy, golden haired and defeated, will matter to him. Tonight he’ll dance for him. At this thought, Kurt ignored the pang in his chest, when a voice in his head reminded him how much he’d love to dance for a man who’d own his heart.

            He’ll have none of that, not tonight. He shook his head and made his way towards the stage. It was the time to shine.

            He chose a special song for tonight’s show. It was the anthem of his broken heart. He always planned his routine sensual and seductive, so he could tempt and lure, but still remain untouchable.   

Ain’t nobody
(Can love me like you do)

As the music started, pulsing through his veins, he strutted to the dance pole, moving his hips to the beat, enjoying the hungry looks he got, but slowly detaching himself from the burn they caused. He had to keep his mind clear.

Meet me in the red sky
And dance with me

            Taking one brief look at the crowd at his feet, he spotted a blond head and a pair of eyes watching his every move. Sam was smiling. Kurt gave him a small smile in return and grabbed the pole, climbing as high as possible, with deliberate, practiced movements, feeling the strain in his muscles and the adrenaline in his system. He breathed through his nose and expanded his chest, letting his left arm stretch above his head.

Let the valley change you
And the night set you free

            This moment was his. He fell in a small pirouette and circled the pole once, before mounting again in a quick shoulder mount V, hearing long whistles from some guys in the front.

You are my desire
You are my escape

            He was used to this by now. Desired but not wanted, worshipped but not loved. He was just an image paraded to please, but not something to be cherished.

Open up this moment
And bury me inside

            His fluid movements described this feeling. His whole body opened to this moment, and his eyes closed over the fluttering of his heart.  

Drown me in this silence
We’ll never come undone

              He finished with an elbow handstand split, exhaling softly, with roaring applause ringing in his ears and some crude calls here and there from the mass of faceless men. One blond head was missing. Kurt bowed and left the stage, hurrying to get changed and meet Sam outside the bar. He was somewhat flushed from the exertion, but no routine could bring him down entirely, since he was used to practice hours on end, and on pointe shoes no less. It took him ten minutes – and for Kurt that was a great feat – to get ready and dress in his normal clothes again, locked the door to the changing room and he was outside in the cool air, searching for Sam.  He spotted his crouched figure a little bit further down the alley, wearing the same tired smile and sad eyes.

            “Hey, Kurt, you totally killed it tonight! I’m sure that pole was thrilled to get acquainted again with your wonderful legs.”

            “What can I say? I can’t help but let my awesomeness show. Now, let’s cut the crap and go to my place. We need to talk.”

            “Wow, so I’m the lucky one. I get to go home with the famous gay bar superstar! Is this my life?” Sam snickered, nudging Kurt in the ribs.

            Kurt slapped him over the head and laughed at him. Sam will still be Sam no matter what.

            They didn’t bother to take a cab, since Kurt lived a few blocks away from the bar. The walk was actually good for both of them. Kurt used the fresh air to loosen his body and Sam took the silence between them to put his thoughts in order. When they finally reached Kurt’s door, they got in, Kurt untying his boots, Sam kicking off his tennis shoes, not bothering to see where they landed, and made his way to Kurt’s kitchen, like usually. This was how they were together, completely at ease around each other. Kurt followed him calmly.

            “So, what do you want to drink? I’ve got some beer from when Finn came visiting last week, some soda, diet coke, and some orange juice.”

            “Orange juice!” Sam grinned.

            Of course.    

            “Couch. Now.”

            “Yes sir.”

            Silence again. When he couldn’t hide behind his jokes anymore, Sam looked defeated.  

            “Sam, just, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

            “I got fired.” Sam blurted.  “Someone made a stupid complaint saying that I molested them and I got fired. They don’t want me back. Huh’… Who would have thought that being a stripper gave you so little credibility? They won’t even listen to me. And I can’t pay the rent this month either, and that makes it three months of not paying it at all… And I got an eviction notice. They want me out of the apartment on Monday. As in...two days from now.”

            Kurt couldn’t move. When did this happen? Why didn’t he know? Sam was living hell for God only knows how long and he didn’t have a clue about it. ‘Such a good friend I am…’ Kurt bit his cheek and took Sam’s hand in his.

            “When did this happen?”

            “Last week.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kurt’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.

            “You were busy…”

            “Sam, we talked about this…”

            “No, Kurt, it’s not like I’m using this as an excuse. But I know you’re working hard every day and I just thought I could solve this myself. I didn’t want you to know. It’s not your problem.”

            “Not my problem? But you are my friend! I am supposed to know when shit happens to you!” Kurt was furious at himself and he knew he shouldn’t take it out on Sam, but he couldn’t stop.

            “Well maybe if you called from time to time you would know if shit happens to me!”

            Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going in the wrong direction.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…”

            “No, Sam, you’re right. I’ve been a horrible friend. I should have called.”

            Kurt pulled Sam in his arms and held him tight, fighting to keep his tears to himself.

            This was the reason they broke up in the first place. Kurt was too selfish. He really loved Sam, but he didn’t know how to be there for him. He couldn’t do it as his lover and, as it seems, he can’t do it as his friend.

            Sam swallowed hard, trying to pull from the embrace, but Kurt wouldn’t let him. If the silent tears were of any indication, Sam has finally broken down. After all this time of pretending to be okay, he gave up and simply cried. Maybe Kurt should do the same.

            And he did.

            Sleep took them both, Kurt running his fingers through Sam’s golden hair and Sam’s hand clutching the back of Kurt’s shirt.