“So you survived Wes’ wedding.” Nick says when he comes in from the kitchen and he sits on the couch, but both of them are looking at me and I realize why. I’m grinning and I can’t stop.

“Spill.” They both demand.

“I had the most amazing night.” And then I sigh because really, it was amazing.

“You met someone, oh my god, you did!” This is Jeff. He’s always been far too intuitive for anyone’s comfort.

“I did.” I answer and I‘m smiling and nodding and the world is a happy place.

“And?” Jeff looks like he’s about to come off the couch after me so decide to give in.

“His name was Kurt and he was fantastic. We talked all night and danced and I’ll never forget him.” When I close my eyes I can still see those eyes and those lips.

“What do you mean was?” Nick asks.

“What do you mean never forget him?” Jeff jumped in on top of Nick’s question. So I decided to tell them, the whole thing, the whole wonderful story.

(insert break)

There, just a couple of tables over sat the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and he was looking right back at me. When a little smile played over the corner of his mouth and I felt my own mouth tilt up in response, I knew I had to meet him. It took a few minutes to get up the courage to go talk to him, but after a few more traded glances, I did it.

“Hi.” I said, gesturing to the empty seat next to him.

He patted the seat and smiled up at me. “Hi.” He replied and his voice was lovely. There was no other way to think of it, it was lovely.

I sat and we stared at one another for a couple of minutes and the music changed and people talked but all I could see were his eyes which were the color of the ocean. Blues and greens and grays with just a hint of flecked gold like sunlight glinting over water.

Our eyes eventually drifted over to the dancing couples and the man next to me chuckled softly. “What?” I asked him.

“It’s just, look around.” He said, so I did. Everywhere my eyes feel I could see the people draped over one another at tables on the dance floor, sharing food, laughing, and kissing.

“I’m looking.” I said softly, wondering what exactly he meant. It was a wedding after all. This was the reason I hadn’t wanted to come alone.

He took pity on me and explained. “People fall in love at weddings, all the time. It’s the unspoken wedding code. If you’re single you meet someone and it’s like magic, you fall in love at first sight. If you are already in love you and your partner start planning your future. The problem is that tomorrow always comes and the magic is gone. If you’re lucky you wake up next to your girlfriend or boyfriend and the two of you laugh it off, but if you’re not lucky you wake up to a stranger and you have to go through the whole awkward song and dance of getting away from them.”

I took another look around at the couples and then back at the man by my side.

“That’s why I should probably tell you I don’t do that.” He said simply.

“Don’t do what exactly?” I asked.

“I don’t fall in love at weddings. I don’t hook up either.” I must have looked crestfallen, I certainly felt crestfallen, because he reached over to pat my knee softly. “Sorry.” He said.

“So where does that leave us, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

He tilted his head to the side and appeared to really think about it. “I think I have an idea.” He said.

“I’m listening.” I said.

“Okay.” He leaned in close to me, his voice dropping low, just for my ears. “Let’s take this one night, just this one magical night, and we get everything out of t we can. We dance, we eat too much cake and drink too much champagne and we laugh and fall hopelessly in love.”

“This is sounding like a great idea.” I say, grinning widely over at him. He laughed softly.

“We are not having sex tonight.” He said seriously.

“Less of a great idea now.” I replied.

“No, hear me out. We get the fantastic night with all the perfect beautiful memories but we cut out the worst part. The next day. We just have tonight and then we say goodbye and fifty years from now we’ll still have this night to look back on because it’s perfect.” I have to admit, it sounds good when he puts it that way.

“And no names.” He adds.

“Well, what do I call you then?” I bump my shoulder against his.

“You can call me, Porcelain.” I chuckled at this name but somehow t also seemed fitting. His skin was flawless and pale.

“And you can call me, Fred Astaire.” I said and we shook hands and laughed together.

(insert break)

“Woah, wait a second.” Nick says.

“Yeah, that’s insane, you realize that right?” Jeff tells me.

“No, it’s not insane, its romantic. I loved it.” I tell them seriously.

“You know what else would have been romantic?” Nick’s raising both eyebrows at me. “Exchanging your names and your phone numbers and not planning to leave each other hanging at the end of the night.

“You’re missing the point.” I tell them. “Just listen.”

(insert break)

Of course that was the exact moment that Santana decided to seek me out. “Hey Blaine, if I text you later 911, you need to call me and give me an out.” My eyes shot sideways to Porcelain who was smiling curiously at me.

“Yeah, okay.” I say, trying to get her to go away before she makes some sort of scene or asks me to introduce my friend.

“Don’t forget Blaine.” Then she leans down and stage whispers, “You can text me too if you need to.” When she’s gone, I look back over and find Porcelain is smiling, hugely, at me. Then he’s laughing and I have to laugh too because how can I not?

“It’s really not Fred? I’m disappointed for some reason.” He says.

“Nope. It’s Blaine. Blaine—“ he cuts me off before I can finish.

“No last names Blaine. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kurt.” He holds out his hand once more.

I take it firmly n mine again. His hand is warm and soft and fits perfect in mine. “It’s nice to meet you too Kurt.

Kurt takes a quick glance around. “Wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“I thought we weren’t doing that.” I answer him slyly.

“Technically we’re not as long as we don’t leave the hotel.” He says and then he seems to realize what that sounds like and he blushes. His cheeks pink up so sweetly that I have to reach out and squeeze his hand.

“It’s alright, I know what you mean.” I tell him and he seems to relax. “So, let’s get out of here.” I say with a smile.

“Okay, we need champagne though, so you grab a bottle and I’ll get the glasses.” Kurt slips from the table and I’m helpless to do anything but follow him.

We make our way to the bar and Kurt immediately starts charming the bartender. The young man is distracted enough that when I slip a bottle off the end of the bar he doesn’t even notice and before I turn to leave I see him passing over two champagne flutes to Kurt with a wink. Maybe under other circumstances I would feel jealous but I don’t feel anything other than exhilarated as we meet out in the hall, laughing and leaning on each other for support.

Kurt leads the way with a crooked finger and not for the first time tonight I think I know what Alice must have felt like tumbling down the rabbit hole. Kurt disappears through a doorway to the right up ahead of me and my legs work to close the distance faster. When I get there I realize I’m standing in a smaller ballroom. It’s much like the one we’ve just come from except this one is about half the size. To my left there appears a long row of windows that are mostly covered in a golden material, and in the center is a door I assume leads out to a balcony of some sort. To my right is a small dance floor and Kurt leaning up against a black baby grand piano. The glasses he was carrying are sitting on the piano beside him and he holds out a hand to me, beckoning.

When I get there he wraps his hand around mine, the one wrapped around the champagne and he pulls it up and out of my grasp, then he hands me the glasses.
“I haven’t done this in a while.” He says, all serious voiced and dreamy eyed.

“Run out of wedding with a charming stranger in tow?” I grin at him.

When he laughs his eyes crinkle and catch the dim lights of the room. “That either.” He teases.

Then he points the bottle away from us both and pops the cork with such little effort that I have to be impressed. I almost say as much but Kurt beats me to it.

“I know, I’m a man of many talents.” He’s chuckling softly as he pours the champagne into our glasses and then we toast. To romance, of course.

Without talking about our personal lives or digging too deep into any subject the talk soon turns to music and Kurt tells me he can sing. After some minor pleading on my part he agrees to demonstrate his talent for me but only once he finds out that I play the piano. So I take a seat on the bench and I ask him what to play. He taps his finger to his lip for a moment, just thinking, and my hands play lightly over the keys to see if the piano is in tune; it is.

“Do you know, In My Life?” He asks.

“I do.” I answer and start to play the first few chords and he just nods and stands a little taller, breathing, waiting for his cue. He’s stunning like this, I think, and then he sings. His voice is high and clear and somehow so much more than I could have expected.

I keep with him even though all I want is to sit and soak up his countertenor, or I want to weave my voice around his or really I just want to hear him sing every day for the rest of my life and the words to the song threaten to choke me up. I let myself pretend for a moment that this song s for me, somehow; that we’ve known each other and loved each other and been together for years. It’s a beautiful dream and it hurts a little when the song comes to an end but it hurts a lot less when Kurt comes to sit with me on the piano bench and our thighs and shoulders are pressed together.

“I play too.” He says softly as his fingers run over a few light chords. “I never missed a lesson.”

“I sing too.” I tell him, and we sit like that quietly for a time just basking in one another’s presence.

“Sing something with me?” Kurt asks, and he turns his head just enough that I see his smile.

“Sure, what shall we sing?” I ask him.

“You pick this time.” He nudges me playfully with his shoulder.

“Come what May, Moulin Rouge?” I say after thinking about it for a minute.

Kurt bites his lip, just a tiny bit and nods. We both know what we’re doing and we both know that we both know and that’s not going to stop us.

I start to play and Kurt picks it up and we play together like it’s the most natural thing in the world and then I’m singing and I’m pouring every ounce of love and hope and need into that one song because I know it’s all I get. Our voices wrap around each other and hold tight in a way I know we never will and before the song is over we’ve abandoned the piano and are singing facing each other, hand in hand.

When the final note dies off we’re so close, there’s only a few inches separating our faces. We lean at the same time and my heart s pounding and at the very last second Kurt pulls back and smiles with a sigh.

“Come back.” I say and I lean toward him but he just laughs lightly and tilts his head in a way that’s becoming familiar to me.

“We can’t.” Kurt tells me and he puts a hand out to stop me. Wonder if he can feel my heart thundering in my chest.

“Why?” I ask him, but I sit back, straight.

“Well, if it’s terrible the whole night will be ruined.” Kurt reasons.

“Maybe it will be fantastic.” I tell him.

“You might use too much tongue or I might not use enough pressure, first kisses are often awkward and disappointing.” Kurt continues and now he’s turned back to the piano.

“I promise to use the proper amount of tongue. Godilocks and the Three Bears, tongue. Not too much and not too little; just right tongue.” I tell him and now I’m nudging him with my shoulder.

“Maybe.” He says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. Then he turns his head and his eyes sparkle.

“You know what the best part of a kiss is, especially a first kiss?” Kurt asks me in a playful tone.

“What part?” I wonder.

“The part just before the lips meet. The lead up. It’s like one long drumroll of expectation and desire. Your lips tingle because you know what’s about to happen and your heart pounds and for just a second everything hangs in the air and you’re just breathing each other in.” Kurt leans forward now and I feel my lips tingle and my heart picks up the pace again.

“Let’s just have that, the best part. Like the rest of our night. Let’s just have the drumroll.” Kurt whispers this almost right against my mouth and I have no power to argue because this feels amazing and electric.

We hang there in that moment, in the drumroll and I feel so much. Kurt’s cologne is mesmerizing and almost sweet but not and I can’t pace it. He smells clean and good and his breath is sweetly tinged with the champagne. His warm breath ghosts over my lips and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, and not just for one night, but for always. In the end we both pull back with a sigh.

(insert break)

“You didn’t kiss?” Jeff squeals, interrupting my reverie.

“No, we didn’t.” I sigh at the memory.

“Are you insane? Blaine tell me this isn’t really how it ended.” Nick is actually sounding angry now.

“That’s not quite the end, but close. We really didn’t kiss, we stuck to the plan.” I tell him, but my chest is feeling tight.

Jeff looks incredulous. “So you’re telling me that after all these years of being broken hearted and disappointed and lonely you meet the perfect guy for you and you just let him walk out of your life without even trying?”

I’m going to argue that point. I had a beautiful night and a beautiful untainted memory to keep with me forever, just like Kurt had promised, but instead Jeff is just making so much more sense now. My heart starts racing and my breath starts coming aster and Nick hurries over to the chair and leans over me. I have no idea what he’s seeing but it sort of feels like stage fright. A feeling I haven’t had since I was little.

“He’s panicking.” Jeff says and then Nick is coaxing me to cup my hands in front of my mouth and try to breathe slowly. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

When it’s over I’m holding on to Nick’s arm like a lifeline. “I let him go.” I choke the words out. “He was perfect and I just let him go.”

Nick and Jeff are exchanging looks but Jeff comes over and kneels next to me. He picks my phone up off the table next to me and hands it to me and for a moment I’m mad because I really don’t have Kurt’s number, but the I realize that I do have someone I can call. I call Wes.

Wes takes some time to be a dick about the whole thing, reminding me that I almost ruined everything and how is it that I tried so hard to get one guy invited and end up in love with another guy I just met at the wedding. In the end he asks me for the name and I tell him.

“Sorry man, I don’t know what to say. Cass made me memorize the guest list and there was never a Kurt on it.” He tells me, and then Nick takes the phone from my hand and ends the call.

“That’s it. There was no Kurt at the wedding. He’s gone and I have no way to find hm.” I sink my head into my hands and curse myself for being such a fool.