The dark room smelled of popcorn and feet. Light whispers floated through the stifling air as small groups of people wound their way through the aisles, searching for the best seats. Random facts from the world of film flashed across the screen, occupying the attentions of anyone who hadn’t thought to bring an iPod or cell phone. Two boys entered this room from the left side and slowly began climbing the stairs, eyes searching each row for a pair of red-padded seats. Unfortunately, many of the seats were already claimed, and they were forced to retreat to the top row, all the way in the corner. An aisle separated their two sets from the main body of the theatre.

“This sucks,” one mumbled.

“Why?” Kurt asked, taking a sip from his Diet Coke.

“Because everyone knows the middle is the best!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. He knew that Blaine took movie-watching quite seriously, but since they were only seeing a sappy, generic romantic comedy, he didn’t see what the big deal was. They only chose this one because all of the other available movies were either pointless action films or ones they’d already seen.

Blaine sighed and ripped into one of his two packages of Red Vines. Kurt didn’t comment on this; the two had made silent agreement to never discuss their favorite red licorice, for Kurt loved Twizzlers while Blaine vehemently preferred Red Vines.

Soon the deafening previews began to play, and both boys covered their ears, grinning at each other. They began to communicate with their eyes, as they often did during class at Dalton.

Why on Earth are these things so loud? Kurt thought, annoyed.

Maybe they think that if they scream their movie at you, you’ll have to see it.

I wonder if they realize that the more they annoy me, the less likely I am to go see their dumb movie.

Wow.

What?

You are so hot when you’re indignant.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, and then returned his glance to the giant screen in front of him. The movie had begun, upbeat string music and all. Within half an hour, Kurt’s soda was empty and Blaine was out of Red Vines. They looked at each other once more.

“Alright,” Blaine whispered into Kurt’s ear; Kurt shivered slightly at the feeling of Blaine’s breath on his neck. “Who’s hotter: that guy—” He pointed at the screen. “—or that guy?” He pointed to a different actor.

Kurt wrinkled his brow in concentration. “Hm...” He smiled. “I know.” He turned to Blaine. “This guy.” He leaned into Blaine and kissed him passionately.

Blaine responded enthusiastically, sliding one hand up into Kurt’s hair, the other reaching for his knee. A soft, feral noise sounded from the back of his throat, and it raise goosebumps along Kurt’s arms. Kurt slid a hand up Blaine’s shirt and laughed quietly. Soon, both pairs of lips had left each other, choosing instead to trace along cheeks, ears, necks, and collarbones. The movie had been long forgotten; there were too many other interesting things in the room, such as the way Blaine’s curly hair fell into his eyes, or the way the light from the screen bounced off of Kurt’s irises.

They didn’t hear the murmurs of discontent from the others in the row. They didn’t see the sneers or glares of contempt. They didn’t notice a pair of older women get up and leave the theatre in protest.

They were in their own world, and they were all that mattered.

When the movie ended, the two broke apart, laughing and looking around in surprise. “Well, that was a good show,” Blaine smirked."

They stood up, collected their belongings, and began the long climb downward toward the exit, holding hands the entire way. “I agree,” Kurt nodded. “The ending was particularly spectacular."

Blaine shook his head. “I don’t know...it got kind of hot there in the middle. I know I especially appreciated it.”Kurt rolled his eyes as he threw his trash away. “You are so corny sometimes.”

Blaine’s smile widened, and he placed a chaste kiss upon Kurt’s lips. “Only for you, babe,” he sighed. “Only for you.”