What do you suppose Kurt and Blaine dress up as for Halloween? My bet's on some Broadway themed couples costume. #I vote for Lion King #spandex with no shirts and headdresses #mmm yes

How do we know they even dress up? We've never seen pics of them in costume. Maybe Halloween isn't their thing. Kurt has to dress up every night for TS. Maybe he doesn't want to do it on his days off too. Maybe they just stay home.

Staying home doesn't preclude dressing up ;) #private costumes are the BEST costumes

=^..^=

October (continued)

Though Blaine was anxious to be home now that he knew what Kurt was wearing under his ghost costume, he knew there was still work to be done. The movie finished right on schedule and he gathered his kids into a back corner of the room, clip-board in hand as he waited to check off each student's name as they were picked up by an authorized adult. Pick up wasn't usually such a formal production — he'd quickly gotten to know the parent or designated adult who regularly picked up each child, making the hand-off sometimes no more than a wave and smile — but that day he was responsible for students who weren't part of his normal class and the hustle and bustle of the party atmosphere in the gym could easily cause someone to get lost in the shuffle.

Blaine had the kids remove their masks, if they were wearing one, and carefully compared faces against the photos on the class roosters and checked the IDs of any adults he didn't recognize before letting anyone leave. A few of the adults looked a little annoyed at his precautions, but he didn't care. It was his job to keep the kids safe and he wasn't about to compromise for ease or speed (besides, he had a much better reason than all of them for wanting to get home quickly, so he felt no guilt in keeping them a few extra minutes).

Thirty minutes, ten sticky hugs, two lost candy bags, and one smashed mask and resulting crying jag later, all the kids on his list were checked off and he was free to go. After a quick dash to his classroom to get his bag (the urge to dive under Kurt's sheet for a few kisses to tide him over until they got home was fought off only because the hallways were still full of people) he and Kurt made their way to the street and the car service Kurt had waiting. Blaine saw some curious glances shot their way, but thankfully they were able to avoid anyone who might have stopped them to talk. He winced slightly when he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye, guessing that the paparazzi who still sometimes camped out across the street from the school had gotten a picture of them as they ducked through the open car door. He didn't know how much a photo of him with an unknown someone dressed as a ghost would go for. There was no way they could prove it was Kurt under all that high-thread count Egyptian cotton.

The town car didn't have a partition, so Blaine had to make due with holding Kurt's hand, his thumb moving back-and-forth slowly in a slow caress. He didn't know if it was all the sugar he'd eaten that day or what, but he felt like he was about to vibrate out of his skin with want. It didn't really make sense. It wasn't like he and Kurt ever denied themselves. It had only been two days since Kurt had come home from the theater pumped up from an extra-good performance and gone about putting that energy to extremely good use.

Maybe it was the novelty of the naughty costume Kurt wore under the sheet, maybe it was the fact that Kurt had finally come to see him at school, maybe it was the cycle of the moon.

Whatever the reason, he really needed Manhattan traffic to cooperate for just this once so that they could get home as quickly as possible before he no longer cared that the driver could see them and decided to ravish Kurt in the back seat.

=^..^=

The door slammed shut behind Blaine as Kurt spun him around and pressed him up against the door, his ghostly sheet discarded in a pile at their feet. Blaine barely caught a glimpse of the police uniform he was wearing before their lips met in a passionate kiss.

Kissing Kurt was definitely one of his favorite things to do. He kissed with his whole body and put more effort into it than anyone he'd ever met. If there was such a thing as a college course in kissing, Kurt would be the professor. Blaine sighed as their lips worked tougher and he felt Kurt's hands move up to his head, tugging on the curls that were a little larger than he usually wore them due to his costume. Kurt knew all his buttons.

"Wait," Kurt panted as he pulled back a few inches, his fingers still pulling on Blaine's hair. "I put something out for you in the bedroom."

Blaine raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Really?"

"Go. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Kurt let go of him and walked backwards towards the kitchen, finally letting Blaine get a full look at the costume he wore. The tight, dark blue spandex bodysuit had short sleeves and ended mid-thigh, a silky black belt, matching tie and silver police badge the only adornments. He could see that it closed down the front with buttons, or (he hoped) snaps or Velcro disguised as buttons and his fingers itched to find out which.

He took a step to follow, but Kurt shook his head slowly and pointed towards the bedroom. Blaine headed off down the hallway reluctantly, stopping only to pat Elphie on her head (which he total missed, putting his hand on her face instead when he looked back and caught a glimpse of the back of Kurt's costume).

Practically running to the bedroom he ground to a sudden stop when he saw his Nightbird costume from Comic Com laid out on the bed with a note beside it that simply read "Put this on 3."

Blaine couldn't remember ever having undressed so quickly. The sound of a seam ripping told him he'd probably torn one of the overall straps off his Mario costume in his haste, but he gave it only a second's thought as he kicked the whole thing into the corner to be dealt with later. He pulled the superhero costume on quickly, tying the cape around his neck, but leaving off the hard plastic chest piece.

He grabbed the black mask and jogged to the bathroom mirror. Catching a look at his reflection, he grimaced when he saw the comical mustache still anchored to his upper lip. He pulled it off, wincing as the glue pulled the hairs on his upper lip, and quickly dipped a cotton ball in the glue remover Kurt had made sure they had on hand. When the last sticky bits of adhesive were gone, he tied the mask on, running his hands over his hair to smooth it down as much as possible.

Back in the bedroom, Blaine was deciding whether to sit on the bed or stand at the foot of it in some typical superhero pose when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to find Kurt standing in the doorway, now wearing a police hat. Unable to tear his eyes away, Blaine took a step forward, only to freeze when Kurt held up a hand to ward him off and shook his head.

"Stop right there. Put your hands up. You're under arrest." Kurt's voice trembled with more than a hint of fear. It took Blaine only a second to catch on. One of the perks of being in love with an actor was the whole-hearted, unself-conscious role playing, though they'd seldom indulged.

Nightbird stepped back towards the closet and pulled his cape in around his body. "There are people out there that need my help," he said in a husky whisper meant to disguise his voice.

"Th-that's what we're here for…the police. You-you're nothing but a vigilante." The officer's hands shook as he brought out a pair of handcuffs from behind his back.

"I can help in ways you can't. Do things you won't."

The officer's eyes softened. "Like those kids you saved from the burning building. That was so brave, running into the fire like that. I watched you on TV and—" He broke off abruptly, his eyes shifting away for a second before returning to pin Nightbird down again. "No. I have to take you in. I have my orders. The mayor wants to make an example of you."

"You know I'm not a criminal. You believe in what I do for this city. I can see it in your eyes." Nightbird walked slowly towards the officer as he spoke, his voice calm and non-threatening.

"If they find out I had you and let you go...I'll lose my job," the officer said, uncertainty starting to show on his face.

"I won't tell a soul." Nightbird reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the officer's arm. "It'll be our secret, I swear."

The quiet snick of the handcuffs closing around his wrist caught Nightbird off guard and he pulled back in alarm, only to find himself tethered to the officer, who held the other end of the cuffs in his hand.

"I have a duty to perform." The uncertainty the officer had been feeling was gone, replaced by steely determination.

Nightbird looked around quickly, trying to formulate a plan for escape, and caught a glimpse of the handcuff keys sitting on the desk behind the officer, probably forgotten in his haste to make the arrest. "Look, Officer…"

"Johnson, Dean Johnson."

"Office Johnson…" Nightbird returned his hand to the officer's arm and moved into his personal space, causing him to back up until his (barely covered) thighs hit the corner of the desk. When he could move no further, Nightbird reached out to place his cuffed hand on Dean's hip, hoping that he would be so distracted by their closeness that he wouldn't notice him picking up the key. "We're after the same thing. We hunt the same bad guys. I just do it in a mask and a cape. We're on the same side. We should…team up. Work together."

As he spoke, Nightbird gathered Dean closer. He wrapped his arm around his waist and began to silently work at unlocking the cuff.

Dean seemed lost in a bit of a daze, his eyes blinking heavily as he tried to concentrate on what Nightbird was saying. "Together? What could I do to help you? I'm just a beat cop."

"You could pass me information you think I might need, point me towards people who are beyond the reach of the police. I could make sure you get credit for some of the crimes I solve. Quid pro quo."

A tiny smile played on Dean's lips as he entertained Nightbird's proposal, but before he could reply, Nightbird made his move. With a quick motion that he was sure Dean never saw coming, Nightbird pulled the now unlocked handcuff from around his wrist and snapped it on Dean's, spinning him and locking the second cuff into place as well, turning the captive into the captor. He expected protests and a struggle, but Dean just looked at him with shock and surprise and more than a hint of lust.

Nightbird knew it was his opportunity to escape, but he couldn't seem to get his feet to move. He was mesmerized by Dean's eyes. He leaned forward slowly, bringing their lips together in a tentative kiss. He lingered for only a few moments before pulling back.

"Wha-what was that for?" Dean asked, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"I'm a superhero, not a saint. And I'd have to be a sant to not give into the temptation of those lips."

Dean stared at him for a second in disbelief, before launching himself forward. Nightbird felt the impact of his body and caught him as Dean swung his cuffed hands up over his head and wrapping his arms around his neck before crashing their lips together.

The kiss was electric and Nightbird felt it to the bottom of his feet. It was as if every cell in his body was celebrating. He wondered fleetingly if Dean was a super villain in disguise, sent to defeat him with the magnificence of his body and lips.

Dean lifted his head, blinking a few times as if trying to regain his balance. "I know you fight for the underdog and can literally become one with the shadows to slip away undetected, but," he looked up at Nightbird through his lashes coyly, "do you have any other super powers I should know about? Increased stamina? Do you turn monstrously big when provoked?"

"I think you're confusing me with The Hulk."

Nightbird felt Dean's hand wrap around his erection and groaned with relief as pleasure sparked through him. "No, I really don't think I am," Dean purred. "I've kinda dreamt of this moment since the first time the cameras caught you—it was during the fight with that guy who was trying to mind control the whole city. Me...you...a pair of handcuffs. You don't know what seeing you in that tight suit does to me. The things I've thought of, the fantasies I've lived out in my head."

"Just in your head?" Nightbird asked, trying to keep his superhero cool.

Dean tilted his head, shadowing his eyes with the brim of his hat. "Well, maybe not just in my head. I may have acted a few out, but alone. Always alone."

"You're not alone now."

"No."

Nightbird watched with bated breath as Dean raised his bound hands and set them against his chest. He knew he should be on lookout for more cops arriving on the scene—Officer Dean Johnson might seem a little green, but even the newest rookie on the force knew to call for back-up before entering a strange building—but every thought of self-preservation flew out of his head as Dean's fingers walked their way up to his neck.

He lifted his chin out of the way as Dean worked at the fastener that held his cape on. With a nimble flick of his fingers the cape was gone, pooling at their feet with a wispy sigh.

Without pausing, Dean pushed on one of his shoulders, swinging him around until they were standing back-to-front. Nightbird clenched his teeth as Dean's finger ghosted over his neck, setting his nerve endings dancing. He had to do everything he could to disguise his ticklish response. To show such weakness to a possible adversary could be dangerous, even deadly.

Eventually, he felt the neck of his suit loosen under Dean's determined fingers. Holding his hands as far apart as the handcuffs would allow, Dean edged the suit down, peeling it away, uncovering Nightbird's body inch-by-inch.

And Nightbird let him.

Let him, that is, until Dean reached for his mask. Before the fingers got too close, Nightbird reared his head back. "Secret identity," he whispered, his voice full of regret.

Dean searched his eyes and nodded. He dropped his arms down between them and pushed in for another kiss. This time it was no mere meeting of the lips. Nightbird felt Dean's tongue lick against the seam of his mouth, as if asking to be granted entry. He gave way, his mouth opening softly. Dean surged forward, his tongue mapping out the new territory before returning to joust playfully with Nightbird's own.

The slick sound of their two suits rubbing together—Dean's still fully on, Nightbird's bunched around his waist—zipped through the silence of the room. Feeling the need to touch, Nightbird splayed his hands out on Dean's back, running them up and down the smooth material until he finally stopped to grab a handful of the belt fastened around his middle. Their tightly encased thighs flexed together, the muscles shifting and sliding as they moved.

Feeling at a disadvantage being the only one partially clothed, Nightbird tugged at the front closure of Dean's uniform. He felt a rush of satisfaction when he heard the sharp click of a snap separating. With a slight growl, he grabbed both sides of the garment and pulled, opening it up to Dean's waist in one smooth motion.

Dean stepped back as the cool air hit his chest, glancing down at the now exposed flesh with surprise. He lifted his head to meet Nightbirds's eyes and lifted an eyebrow as if to say "Challenge accepted." He then reached up and took his hat off, tossing it across the room as if it was a frisbee, not even looking to see where it landed.

Nightbird took a few steps back to lean against the desk and watched as Dean stalked closer with determination gleaming in his eyes. Dean came up against him so that they were plastered hip-to-shoulders and once again flung his hands over his neck, clasping them behind his head as they kissed again.

"I'm still going to take you in after this," Dean murmured as they broke for a breath. "I'll get a promotion out of this. Maybe get a medal from the mayor."

"You're welcome to try."

The jangling of the cuffs echoed in Nightbird's ears as they struggled to get closer, bending legs and arms in an attempt to close any remaining gaps between their bodies.

Then, something changed. Blaine could feel the moment when Kurt forgot about the roles they were playing. His lips softened, the kiss growing softer and deeper, losing its frantic edge.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered against his lips.

"What?" he asked, just as quietly.

Kurt tilted his head back to smile sweetly at him. "Nothing. Just Blaine."

With another jingle of handcuffs, Kurt pulled his arms from around Blaine's neck and swung them both around until Blaine was standing in front of the black leather and chrome executive desk chair that he'd finally convinced Kurt was too comfortable to pass up, even if it didn't totally go with their decor. Kurt pushed him down onto the soft leather and knelt in front of him. He tugged Blaine's costume down the rest of the way, wrestling a bit to pull it off over his feet. Once it was gone, he looked up at Blaine with a soft expression, his own costume gaping open, but still clinging to his wide shoulders.

"You'd think I'd have enough experience getting these suits off that it would be easy," he said wryly.

"I imagine it's easier when it's your own," Blaine replied, sinking against the back of the chair and widening his legs in anticipation of what was coming next.

Kurt's eyes sharpened at the movement and he rose up higher to set his elbows on Blaine's knees. He moved as if to kiss him again, then swung back, smiling knowingly as Blaine swayed forward to try and meet him halfway.

As Kurt lowered himself back to the floor, his hands drug down Blaine's thighs. The feeling of the cold metal of the chain between Kurt's wrists against his erection startled him and he jumped slightly, relaxing only when Kurt took him in hand, the warmth of his skin driving away the momentary chill.

Though he hadn't thought it possible, Kurt's touch turned him even harder. He and Kurt both watched with fascination as the head of his cock reddened and swelled, poking out of Kurt's slowly sliding fist.
Kurt released his hold on Blaine's cock and and let out a little bark of laughter when it bounced back and slapped Blaine on the little belly he'd never been able to fully get rid of, leaving a wet spot were it hit. Blaine winced at the jarring motion.

Still chuckling, Kurt lifted it with one finger and brought it to his mouth, where he placed a kiss on the end. "Poor baby. I'll kiss and make it better."

Blaine was just about to politely suggest he do more than kiss it when Kurt opened his mouth and swallowed him down whole. Blaine's words died in his throat and turned into an embarrassing gurgle, but he didn't care. All he could think of was the warm, sweet suction of Kurt's mouth pulling him in deeper and deeper until not an inch of him wasn't encased in pure heaven. He sank heavily into the chair, letting wave-after-wave of pleasure crash over him.

After a few minutes, Kurt changed tactics, letting Blaine regain his control as he kissed and nibbled his way down the shaft, stopping to nestle in and take a few nips at his balls, before soothing them with his tongue. Kurt didn't usually like taking part in such activities unless both of them were recently showered, but this time he showed no sign of backing off, instead moving around to the other side to mouth at the other ball.

With one finger stroking Blaine's perineum, he returned his attentions to the shaft, licking back up to the head, where he re-dedicated his attentions. Blaine clenched his fists and his buttocks, fighting back the need to come right then and there.

With one last teasing lick, Kurt returned to his deep throating, drawing Blaine in impossibly deeper, the muscles of his throat massaging and pulling at Blaine's cock in almost unbearable ways.

It was only a few minutes before Blaine reluctantly tapped on Kurt's shoulder. "God, you've got to...stop Kurt. Stop or this evening will be over way too soon."

Kurt pulled off, gasping, his face reddened with effort. "But I wasn't done," he said with a husky voice and a mutinous expression.

"But I almost was."

A huge part of Blaine wanted to just tumble Kurt to the floor and go at it right there, but hardwoods weren't really conducive to what he had in mind, at least not without a body full of protesting muscles the next day, so he stood up, pulling Kurt with him. He moved to unlock the cuffs from Kurt's wrists, but Kurt just shook his head playfully and moved towards the bed, slowing stripping off his costume as he went, teasing Blaine with a peek at his ass before jumping up on the bed and sitting back on his legs, his hands resting on his thighs, his erection displayed proudly.

It wasn't often that they brought props into the bedroom, so it took Blaine a second to plan his next move (made all the more difficult since all his blood was rushing away from his brain).

Since Kurt had wanted to keep the handcuffs on, he started there. Blaine grasped one of Kurt's wrists and slipped the key into the lock, twisting it slowly, using an uplifted eyebrow to stifle his murmured protest. Kurt was facing the footboard of the bed, so he threaded the open end of cuffs under the metal bar closest to the bottom and then slipped it back over Kurt's just freed wrist, anchoring him down near the mattress. Kurt gave his arms a tug, testing the hold, and nodded with satisfaction when there was no movement.

Since the cuffs were heavy and lined with bright red fur (something he'd had to ignore when Kurt had first brought them out or he would have completely lost his character, such as it was) he assumed they hadn't come as part of the cheaper looking costume. An image of Cooper standing in the store, trying to select just the right pair of cuffs—maybe thinking red because it was one of Blaine's favorite colors—hovered at the edge of Blaine's mind and he had to push it away quickly or risk losing his erection.

With a seductive shimmy that did wonders to drive away any lingering thoughts of Cooper, Kurt laid himself out on his back, his arms stretched out above his head, a flirtatious smile on his lips. Blaine took a second and just looked. He didn't know if he'd ever get used to seeing Kurt like this—his wide shoulders, perfectly muscled arms, taunt stomach, and long, long legs on display just for him.

"Do you do this with the super villains you fight?" Kurt said, dropping back into character for a second.

"Am I just another notch on your utility belt?"

Blaine put a knee on the bed and placed his hands on either side of Kurt's body so that he could hover over him. "Never," he whispered as he lowered his head and gave him another lingering kiss. He pulled away before either one of them were satisfied, smiling to himself as Kurt craned his neck to chase after him. He laid down perpendicular Kurt and began to run his hands over all the place his eyes had touched before, paying special attention to the sensitive spot on Kurt's ribs that seemed to have a direct connection to his cock. Sure enough, as soon as his fingers traced over the area, Kurt's erection gave a jerk.

A moan escaped from his lips and his eyes slid shut. "Don't tease."

"Don't look at it as teasing. Look at it as insurance. This way, if your superiors question why you didn't bring me in you can truthfully say I tortured you."

Kurt opened his eyes and glared. "It'll only be torture if you don't put your hand on my dick in the next minute."

"Language, language," Blaine said, tapping his index finger against Kurt's lips gently. "Nightbird may be the nocturnal avenger, but during the day he's surrounded by little ears, so he tries not to fall into the habit of harsh language."

"Nightbird, Mr. Nocturnal Avenger?" Kurt returned sweetly.

"Yes?"

"Fuck me."

Blaine felt the world shrink until it was only the size of the bed. "Well, that definitely sounds like the job for a super hero."

Without another word, he grabbed ahold of Kurt's erection, squeezing it gently before forming a fist around it and starting up a rhythm designed to drive Kurt crazy. He trailed his other hand up to Kurt's nipples, pinching them slightly, loving the feeling of the pebbling and contraction beneath his fingers. Kurt's legs shifted restlessly, tangling in the sheets. He arched his back as Blaine swept his hand to the bottom of his shaft and used the tips of his fingers to press into the flesh at the base.

Feeling the urgent need to take things to the next level, Blaine flipped over and pulled the nightstand drawer open, taking out the supplies that they oh-so-inventively kept there. Though he and Kurt were long passed the days of needing to use a condom for protection, they still used them about half the time just for ease of clean-up, especially when they hadn't both had a chance to prepare fully.

His breath caught in his chest when he turned back. Kurt had taken those few seconds to turn over and was now face down, folded over his bent knees, his hands grasping the bar out in front of him and his head touching the bed in a pose Blaine recognized from the many times he'd watched Kurt do yoga.

He must have sat there stunned for too long, because Kurt humphed loudly into the covers and wiggled his ass enticingly. With trembling fingers, Blaine uncapped the lube bottle and poured some into his hand, making sure to warm it up before beginning to rub it slowly over Kurt's opening, which was clenching and releasing in anticipation. Sensing that this wasn't one of the occasions when Kurt wanted him to linger over the prep, Blaine worked his way inside, loosening, teasing, filling just enough to stoke the fires even more.

Kurt rode his fingers for a few minutes, then turned his head so that their eyes met. "Now, Blaine."

No further invitation was necessary. Blaine quickly donned the condom and slicked himself up. He lined himself up at the center of Kurt's rose and pushed in slowly, past the outer ring and deeper, steadily deeper, until he felt the second inner ring of muscles squeeze him. It was only in that position, from behind, that he could get deep enough to breech that second gate.

Taking a deep breath to gather what was left of his staying power, Blaine took hold of Kurt's hips and began to thrust. Short, long, fast, slow, he kept his movements ever changing, not giving Kurt a chance to get used to the motion. It wasn't long before he felt the pressure building low in his abdomen. He rose higher on his knees and put just enough pressure on Kurt's back to bend him forward the few inches needed to get just the right angle.

The ability to think left him as his balls pulled up tight against his body and then let go. "God, Kurt, I'm there already. I can't." He continued to thrust through his release, groaning when he felt Kurt ground down around him, clenching tightly to try and keep him inside.

As soon as the tremors left his body, Blaine slipped out of Kurt's warmth. He discarded the condom quickly and grabbed another palm full of lube before reaching around and grasping Kurt's erection, which he'd been grinding into the sheet beneath him. It took only a few moments before Kurt was moaning and thrashing his head, his hips pistoning as he drove into Blaine's slick fist.

Just as Kurt started to come, Blaine gripped his cock harder, stroking faster as he thrust two fingers back inside his tight hole. He bent them downwards and pulsed them against Kurt's prostate. Kurt shuddered violently, his orgasm seeming to double in pleasure and length, come pumping out of him in a seemingly never ending stream. The sight caused Blaine's repleted dick to jerk as it tried to get hard again and he winced, palming it softly to alleviate the ache.

Kurt collapsed onto his side as his body continued to shake with aftershocks. Blaine leaned back and grabbed the key, unlocking Kurt from the cuffs, his eyes running over the soft skin of his wrists to make sure they hadn't done any damage. Satisfied that all was well, he tossed the key and fluffy cuffs to the floor and did some collapsing of his own.

It was several minutes before the power of speech returned.

Kurt rolled over onto his back, careful to avoid the now soiled sheets, and lifted his arms above his head, staring at his wrists with some measure of surprise. "Huh. Didn't know I'd be into that. I'm going to have send Cooper a thank you card for that costume."

Blaine propped himself up on an elbow so quickly his head buzzed. "Don't you dare! It's been too long since he sent it. You send a thank you now and he'll know we've been up to something."

Kurt looked at him innocently. "But if we don't tell him how much we enjoyed it he'll never get us anything like it again."

"What?" Blaine sputtered. "You're the one who hid it in the back of the closet and—" He ground to a halt as Kurt began to laugh and dropped back to the mattress. "As if you'd ever give my brother even half that much information about our sex life. You just know he'd slip and say something the next time he comes within fifty feet of a video camera. He'd say just enough for it to be taken the wrong way, too. I can just see it now 'Famous Hollywood actor in kinky threesome with two brothers. News at eleven." He turned to see Kurt gazing up at the ceiling with a silly smile. "You're picturing the threesome right now, aren't you?"

"You're the one that said it. Hardly my fault."

"Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you."

There was a rustling noise as Kurt rolled over and set his chin on Blaine's shoulder. "Because I'm talented and amazing and every-once-and-a-while surprise you like I did today."

Blaine smiled and wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulder. "I do love it when you zig when I think you're about to zag."

"Mmmm." Kurt snuggled his face into Blaine's neck and kissed his collarbone. "I am a little disappointed in our performance, though."

"Are you kidding?" Blaine said with surprise. "If we'd done any better we'd be in a coma for a week."

Kurt slapped his arm. "Not that performance. Office Johnson and Nightbird. 'Sounds like a job for a super hero'," he said in a rough imitation of Blaine. "I'd never agree to make a movie with such horrible dialog."

"Like yours was any better. 'Notch on your utility belt.' Please. I think we did okay, though. Improv is usually rough and unpolished."

"Maybe I'll give a little more notice next time so that we have a chance to put some thoughts down. Start to develop our characters."

"Next time?"

"Next time."