January 2018

With so much hinging on the outcome of the 2018 Nationals, most of the skaters were arriving at least a week before the competition in order to get over any jetlag and have some extended practice time to get the feel for the ice. Despite all the traveling he'd done for skating, Kurt had always found it difficult to sleep in a new place, so he was thankful that he'd have time to settle into a normal sleeping pattern before their official practices began. People often came to observe the sessions and television commentators were quick to spread stories of poor performances or problems they witnessed. It was amazing how quickly the buzz around a skater could take on a negative spin and he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that didn't happen this time.

He and Blaine took a quick cab ride to the hotel and checked in with minimal fuss. They called Isabelle — who'd come in on an earlier flight — to confirm their arrival, then retired to their rooms to settle in. No matter how short his trips were, Kurt always completely unpacked, unable to stand the thought of living out of a suitcase or the affect it would have on his clothes, for even one night.

He tidied his toiletries in the bathroom and cast a careful eye over the clothes hanging in the closet to look for stray wrinkles, before glancing at the clock. Adam was due to arrive within the half hour and they'd planned on having a quiet dinner together. Kurt had booked a suite for the extent of his stay, thinking that Adam would be staying with him for several days, but an unexpected business meeting had come up and he would only be able to come for one night.

A knock sounded at the door and Kurt moved to open it, surprised that Adam had made it in from the airport so quickly. He opened the door to find Santana lounging against the far wall, her legs encased gleaming black thigh-high boots that ended just inches below the hem of her oh-so-tight mini-dress.

"You're not dressed," she observed flatly, dismissing the jeans and sweater Kurt was wearing. "Come on, you've got ten minutes."

"For…?" Kurt asked, searching his brain for any forgotten plans.

"Our celebratory dinner, of course," she replied, the "duh" unspoken, but very obvious. "Finn, Sam, and Brit are already at the bar downstairs and Blainerina said he'd meet us in the lobby in ten."

"Celebration of what?" Kurt wondered.

"Our inevitable assignments to the Olympic team, of course. It's totally predictable and cliché to wait until after the competition to celebrate. I say we do it now, like the extreme bad-asses we are.

"I think you have me confused with Sebastian," Kurt said. "He's the one that's certain about how this will all play out. I've never claimed to be a bad-ass and you won't catch me tempting fate like that. Come back in nine days and then we'll see."

Santana sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine. We'll make it a pre-competition good luck dinner. Whatever gets your skinny butt out the door. Let's go. The night isn't getting any younger and it's a crime that I haven't brought at least four people to their knees with this outfit already."

"I can't. I'm waiting for Adam. He should be here soon and —"

"Oh, good, I was starting to think that he was just a figment of your imagination. I hope he's ready for the Mexican inquisition. Don't worry," she reassured at his look of alarm, "we use fifty percent less torture than the original Spanish version. We'll catch your precious Adam in the lobby when he comes in, I promise." She held up two fingers in front of her solemnly. "Scouts honor."

"Santana, you were never a boy scout," he pointed out dryly.

'No, but I'm sure enough boys had inappropriate thoughts about me while tucked in their sleeping bags at the annual jamboree to make me an honorary member." She tapped her foot on the floor and stared him down. "If you aren't changed in five minutes you're going in whatever you're wearing when I drag you from this room. You might want to hurry so that at least you have underwear on. One…two…three…"

"Fine. Five minutes. God." Kurt ducked into the room and began to quickly rummage through the clothes he'd brought. "Remind me why we're friends again?"

"Please you love me. Just think about how dull things were without me. Four minutes."

A half an hour later they were all seated at dinner, with Kurt thankfully fully dressed, though it had been a near thing, as Santana hadn't been joking about the five minutes. She'd been relatively well behaved when she was introduced to Adam, making only one Monty Python joke and commenting snidely that his teeth looked surprisingly straight and white for a limey, so Kurt had considered himself lucky. He wasn't sure how long that luck was going to hold out, though, as Santana had claimed the seat on Adam's other side at dinner. He listened with half an ear to their conversation, but was truthfully more interested in speaking with Blaine, who sat across from him at the table.

Kurt had woken up that morning realizing that if they didn't finish in the top two at Nationals that this might be his last week with Blaine. If they didn't make the Olympics it would mostly likely mean the end of their partnership. They hadn't talked about it, but he didn't see them sticking it out another four years and trying for the 2022 Games. He tried not to let himself think about it, tried to concentrate on the competition ahead and not the consequences of failure, but his brain wouldn't let it go. It kept telling him to remember every smile Blaine gave and every word that he said, because it might be one of the last.

Dinner went by quickly and they were back in the lobby of the hotel by nine o'clock. They'd stopped in the little side lounge and were discussing whether or not they wanted to go to the hotel bar for a drink, when Santana grabbed Kurt's elbow and abruptly pulled him down the hallway and into the women's bathroom.

Kurt looked around, more than a little shocked to be in the ladies room. "Uh, Santana? I realize it's kind of a ritual for girls to go to the bathroom together and I'm thrilled that we've gotten things back on track between us, but you remember that I'm not one of your girlfriends, right?"

Santana examined her reflection and fluffed her hair. "Relax, I haven't forgotten that you have a penis. I just wanted to talk and this was the only place I could make sure the geek squad out there couldn't hear us."

"Well, make it quick. I don't want to have to explain this to anyone who comes in actually looking to use the restroom."

Santana shrugged and spun around before hopping up to sit on the counter, legs crossed at the ankle. "So, I know we were estranged or whatever and I'm sure navigating the tricky world of dating from within the gayest profession on earth was difficult without your daily dose of Aunty Tana straight talk, but what the hell are you doing?"

Kurt didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but it wasn't that. "What?"

"I'm talking about James Bland in there, the Prince of Snores." She threw her hands up in disgust. "God, I'm falling asleep just thinking about him. Why are you wasting your time with the bore from across the pond when you've got a piece of USDA Prime ass beside you who's as disgustingly cute as a just weaned panda cub and doesn't make everyone in the room wish that we had stricter immigration laws with Britain."

"Don't talk about Adam that way. Or Blaine for that matter —"

"Please, you can't tell me you haven't had the exact same thoughts," she interrupted. "It's no good trying to hide it. Bitches like me notice everything. It gives us more ammunition to use against people. Look, I tells it like I sees it and you and Adam? My friend, that is a relationship that should have been put out to pasture years ago."

Kurt started to sputter out a response, but right then the door opened and a woman walked inside. She paused when she saw Kurt standing there and looked back at the sign on the open door as if to reassure herself that she'd walked into the right room.

Santana smirked and jumped off the counter. She grabbed Kurt's hand and led him towards the door. "Sorry, boyfriend trouble. Sometimes only your best gay can help."

The woman smiled and stepped aside to let them out. "Oh honey, I know. I'd be lost without mine."

They arrived back in the lobby just in time to hear Sam declare that it was too early to call it a night. Finn and Blaine quickly agreed and plans were made to go down the street to a bar they'd seen on the drive in. Santana and Brittany demurred, saying that they were going to watch a movie and Adam declined also, saying he had to leave early to catch his plane. Kurt was tempted for a second, but ultimately decided to stay with Adam.

As the boys headed toward the exit, Blaine turned back and grinned wickedly at Kurt. "Don't wait up."

Kurt followed Adam to the elevator and leaned against the back wall after pushing the button for their floor. As the doors closed, the last thing he saw was Blaine, talking animatedly to Sam, hands waving excitedly, with a huge smile on his face. An answering smile broke out on Kurt's face. He couldn't help it. Seeing Blaine happy made him happy. In fact, just seeing Blaine at all usually made him happy these days. His smile dropped away as he realized Santana was right. It was time he finally admitted a few things to himself and maybe to some others as well.

=^..^=

"This is the fifteen minute warning for Group One warm-up. Skaters in Group One, please get ready to take the ice."

Blaine froze in the midst of straightening his bow tie as the announcement came over the locker room intercom system. It was the final night of the Similar Pairs competition at the 2018 National Championships and in less than fifteen minutes he and Kurt would be hitting the ice to warm-up for their long program.

This was it. It all came down to this. Three-and-a-half years of training and within the hour it would all be settled. A first or second place finish would mean a trip to the Olympics in a little over six weeks. Finishing any lower would mean the end of the dream.

The standings after the short program had Sebastian and Chandler in first place, with Kurt and Blaine in fourth. While they would have loved to be higher, they knew that their long program was where their real strength was, so hopes were still high. Their short program, skated to an energetic version of I Like It by Enrique Iglesias (sans vocals, of course) had been a big hit with the crowd. He and Kurt had ultimately decided to tie their short and long programs together to tell the story of a relationship, beginning with their characters meeting in a dance club. Kurt had designed them club-wear inspired costumes that were edgy, but not too outrageous, and they had developed choreography that was flirty and sexy and caused more than few audience members to look a little over-heated by the time they were finished.

Their long program would revisit the same characters further into their relationship and would start with an argument and potential break-up (Apologize by OneRepublic), before moving into a tentative reconciliation (Listen to Your Heart by Roxette), and ending with them forming an even stronger bond (Never Tear Us Apart by INXS). Their costumes were simple and elegant. Kurt's outfit consisted of tight black pants and shirt with an embroidered silver vest that tied like a corset in the back, while Blaine would be dressed in slightly looser black pants and a white dress shirt with a black bow tie that would become untied and hang casually from his neck as the piece progressed. They weren't the show stopper extravaganzas that Kurt was capable of designing, but they fit the mood of the piece to a T.

The ten minute warning was issued and Blaine decided it was time to go find Kurt, who had already finished dressing and was probably pacing just behind the curtain that led to the ice, as he normally was right before a performance. He turned to the mirror and was smoothing a hand over his hair for one final check, when a face appeared next to his and hands settled on his shoulders.

Blaine suppressed a heavy sigh and pasted a smile on his face. "Sebastian. Good luck out there tonight."

"Thanks. Don't need luck, though. We've got this locked down." Sebastian's normal arrogant expression took on a not-very-subtle leer. "You should slip your leash tonight and come out with me. I bet I'm a hell of a lot more fun than your little partner and definitely better looking."

That was debatable. "I'm sorry?" Blaine asked, looking around the room a little to see if there was anyone who could rescue him from the conversation.

"We should hook up." Sebastian dropped his voice and leaned into Blaine's personal space. "Since we most likely won't be competing against each other after tonight, we won't have to worry about looking unprofessional. I mean, that's never stopped me before, but you look to be kind of a stickler for stuff like that."

Blaine felt a flicker of annoyance at his insinuation. "And what makes you think we won't be competitors anymore?"

"Come on, let's be realistic," Sebastian patronized. "I've seen video of your program, seen the practices. You just don't have it in you to finish in the top two, so your season will be over and you'll be cheering me on from your couch as I walk in the Opening Ceremony. It's nothing to be ashamed of — you've come a long way. It's not your fault that you don't have a partner who can take you all the way."

"Thanks for your concern, but I think we'll do just fine."

"Please, the entire program hinges on the audience believing that there's heat and passion between you and Hummel and, let's be honest, he couldn't produce that kind of heat if he were on fire." Sebastian's breath was hot against his neck and cheek, making Blaine squirm. "Though if it was going to happen with anyone, it would be with you. Because you're so hot."

Blaine's eyebrows lifted towards his hairline. "Wow. Original. Thanks."

The five minute warning sounded, thankfully cutting off Sebastian's reply. Blaine said a hurried goodbye and rushed off to find Kurt.

It was show time.

=^..^=

"Next round's on me, Pixie Dust. Whatch ya drinkin'?"

Blaine could barely hear Santana over the music and dull roar of voices that filled the club. He held up his glass and mouthed "vodka on the rocks" and watched as she nodded and pushed her way towards the bar in the back of the room.

With both the Mixed and Similar Pairs competitions over, many of the teams had made their way to the nearby dance club for some well-needed R&R. Surprisingly, Kurt had been the one to make the suggestion that they go out, saying that they all needed to blow off a little steam before heading into the preparation for the Olympics.

The Olympics. Blaine couldn't believe that he was getting another shot. Though it'd been the goal since the first day he'd laced up his figure skates, he now realized that part of him had always doubted that it would happen, doubted that he could get good enough, fast enough. But against all odds he'd done it and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. And no matter how happy he was for himself, he was even happier that he'd also played a part in making Kurt's dream come true.

Though their long program hadn't been perfect, it'd been the best performance they'd ever given and they'd been more than happy with their scores, which had pulled them into second place behind Sebastian and Chandler. Santana and Finn had finished first in the Mixed Pairs competition, with Brittany and Sam close behind, so they would all be going to Pyeongchang in February.

A whoop from the dance floor caught his attention and he watched as Sam did a few non-regulation body rolls before a crowd of women who cheered and pretended to stuff dollar bills down his pants. Blaine laughed and let his gaze fall a little bit to the right, where Kurt was dancing with Brittany. They were swinging each other around, weaving in and out of their intertwined hands and giggling so hard they could hardly stand.

It was such a strange thing, to see Kurt tipsy and slightly out of control. He rarely drank and when he did, he usually limited himself to just one, but he'd already downed two shots and a rum and diet coke and showed no signs of slowing down. It was a good thing they didn't have to get up early in the morning.

Santana returned to the table, followed by a waitress with a tray of drinks, and the arrival of more alcohol served as a homing beacon to the dancers out on the floor. Sam led a conga line of ladies past the table and snatched up a beer with one hand before making a U-turn back into the crowd. Kurt and Brittany stumbled up also and Kurt slid into the seat next to Blaine, drinking thirstily from his vodka cranberry, while Brittany surprised everyone by sitting down on Santana's lap and helping herself to a sip of her margarita as she bopped her head back-and-forth to the music.

Blaine felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see the hopeful face of a cute guy that he'd seen scoping him out earlier. The man asked Blaine if he'd like to dance and held his hand out gallantly to help him up from his chair. Blaine accepted and slipped their fingers together, following him with just a waggle of his eyebrows tossed back to his friends.

He heard the familiar notes of If I Had You and let the beat fill his body as he began to dance. His partner, who'd introduced himself as Casey, moved in close, setting his hands on Blaine's hips as they found their rhythm. They danced like that for several minutes before Blaine spun around and pressed his back against Casey's chest, looking out over his fellow dancers as he moved. There was a rustling behind him and then arms encircled his waist, pulling him back slightly. Blaine tensed for just a second before relaxing into the embrace, surprised at how good it felt. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back until it rested against Casey's chest, letting the music wash over him. The song then transitioned into the slower Take My Breath Away and Blaine turned again. He opened his eyes and was shocked to see that it wasn't Casey that held him, but Kurt. He glanced around and saw his former dance partner several feet away dancing with Santana, the expression on his face showing that it wasn't his idea.

"I hope you don't mind," Kurt murmured in his ear. "I felt nostalgic when I heard that Adam Lambert song. Do you remember when we danced to it?"

"Hmmm." Blaine tentatively placed his hand on Kurt's waist and felt a tingle run down his spine when Kurt moved his arms up to drape them across his shoulders. "I think I'm wearing considerably more clothes this time."

"Ah, but also sadly feather boa-less," Kurt pouted, trailing a finger up the side of Blaine's neck.

Blaine shivered at the sensation and pulled back slightly, not wanting to get so caught up that he forgot that it was Kurt he was with. He was proud of the fact that he'd never knowingly fooled around with anyone who was married or involved and he had no plans to change that now.

The night turned into a blur of drinks and dancing. Though Blaine danced a few times with Santana and Brittany, most of his time was spent with Kurt, laughing at his distinctive "shimmy" dance and trying not to hold him too closely while they swayed to the slow songs. He'd slowed down his own drinking down when he saw how much the others were consuming, knowing that someone had to keep their wits about them, but that didn't dampen his fun.

The club got more crowded as the night wore on, until ultimately there wasn't even enough room on the dance floor to move. They paid their tab and headed out into the crisp night air, everyone taking in a deep breath that was thankfully free of perfume and the smell of active bodies pressed too close together.

They got in the line for a taxi and began to inch their way slowly forward. As they waited, Sam did his Yosemite Sam impression — which Kurt found highly entertaining, if his maniacal laughter was any indication — and Brittany rested her head on Santana's shoulder.

"Brit and I are going to hit another club. I assume your bottle of hair gel lets out a homing beacon that will guide you back to the hotel?" Santana asked with a glint in her eye.

Blaine just smiled and ignored the jab at his hairstyle. "Are you sure you don't want to come back with us?"

Santana leaned over and kissed Brittany's cheek. "Nope, we gots to keep gettin' our grove on. Sam will go with us, don't worry. The constant impressions and need to talk about action movies can be tough to take, but he keeps guys from bothering us and those clichéd golden boy looks attract many pretty, pretty ladies that make for some interesting eye-candy, so we let him tag along."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at how freely Santana was acting and speaking. Though she'd opened up to Kurt over the past year about her relationship with Brittany, this was the first time she'd ever said anything in front of Blaine. He wouldn't say that the two of them were exactly friends, but that night felt like a step in the right direction.

Kurt came up behind Blaine, still chuckling over Sam's impressions and sagged against him drunkenly in a quasi-hug. Blaine staggered a bit under the additional weight, but regained his balance and put an arm around Kurt's waist to steady him. They finally got assigned a taxi and Blaine held the back door open as Kurt called out loud goodbyes to his friends and crawled inside.

"See you tomorrow. Use protection!" Santana called out just as the door closed behind them.

Blaine groaned and banged his head against the headrest a few times, desperately trying to chase away the image Santana had just planted. The trip to the hotel took only a few minutes and Kurt was so quiet during the drive that Blaine would have thought he'd fallen asleep except for the tapping of his foot against the seat in front of him.

Kurt stumbled a bit getting out of the taxi, so Blaine wrapped an arm around his waist again. They walked like that to the elevator and he pushed the button for Kurt's floor. Blaine's own room was two levels up, but Kurt was just drunk enough that Blaine wanted to make sure that he got back to his room okay, so they got out together and walked down the hall. Once at his room, Kurt fumbled with getting his card key into the slot, so Blaine gently took it from him and soon had the door unlocked.

"Come inside for a minute," Kurt suggested, tugging a bit on the hem of Blaine's sweater. "Let's have a nightcap."

"I'm thinking another drink might not be the best thing right now," Blaine answered, though he still followed Kurt inside.

Kurt dropped his coat onto the wooden luggage rack by the closet and moved towards a shelf where two glasses and a bottle of water sat. "Fine. We'll just have this then." He poured each glass part way full and carried them back to Blaine, who remained near the door. "I had a great time tonight. We should do that more often. In fact…" He sat the glasses down on the cabinet next to Blaine and reached up to set a hand on his chest. "There are several things we should do more often. Or start doing in the first place." Kurt slid his hand up and around Blaine's neck and cupped the back of his head, tugging him forward slowly.

Blaine let Kurt pull him in, entranced by the look in his eye and the warmth of his hand, but was brought to his senses as soon as their lips met. "Woah, woah. Kurt, what're you doing?"

"What I've wanted to do since the day I first met you, I think. Don't pretend you wanted it too." Kurt made to kiss him again, but Blaine still resisted.

"But, what about Adam?"

"You don't have to worry about him. We broke up last weekend before he left. It's been coming on for several months now. We both knew it. There's nothing holding us back now."

Blaine tried to process that bit of news, but Kurt's lips were suddenly back on his and the possibility for rational thought was gone. The kiss deepened quickly and soon lips alone weren't enough. Blaine slid his tongue against the seam of Kurt's mouth and felt it open beneath the pressure. He pushed forward and Kurt met him stroke for stroke, their tongues dueling in an intimate battle for supremacy.

Then, despite being caught up in one of the best kisses of his entire life, a tiny part of Blaine's brain flared back to life and started flashing a warning. He tried to push it away, but it became louder and louder until he turned his head to the side reluctantly, breaking the kiss.

"What?" Kurt cried out, chasing his lips. "It's not cheating, I swear."

"Kurt, you just broke up with someone and you're drunk. I'm not going to take advantage of you like this."

"But I want you to take advantage. I want you to take a lot of things." Kurt batted his eyelashes suggestively and kissed him again.

Blaine let the kiss linger for only a couple of seconds before pushing on Kurt's shoulders to move him back a few inches. "I'm trying to be noble, here. Give me a break."

Kurt stiffened and pulled away. "If you don't want me you can just say it. You don't have to pretend you're doing this for my benefit."

"Come on, Kurt, it's not like that. I just… You've had a lot to drink and probably — definitely — aren't thinking very straight and you're most likely feeling a little lonely, so I think we should just call it a night. We can talk tomorrow and —"

"Oh my god, Blaine, thank you so much! I'm so glad that you're here to tell me what I'm feeling and thinking. How on earth would I ever get along without you?" Kurt ground out, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. "Frankly, I'm surprised at your reluctance, given your reputation for hoing it up with half the gay male population of Ohio. I mean, do you show this much concern for all the guys you hook up with in bars, because if so, I'm thinking the rumors of your numerous conquests might be a little exaggerated."

Blaine felt his patience wearing thin, but he knew it was mostly the alcohol talking, so he tried to keep his temper under control. "You've been off-limits the whole time I've known you, Kurt, so I never let myself think of you that way. It wouldn't have been fair to either one of us. And now that you've suddenly decided to let me know that you're interested you can't blame me for needing more than two minutes to wrap my mind around this. I can't turn on a dime like that." Kurt snorted in disbelief, causing Blaine to raise his voice a little. "I won't be your rebound or someone you have drunken sex with to make yourself feel better about being single again."

There was silence, then "Get out."

"What? Kurt, come one, let's talk —"

"Just get out. This pathetic, drunk, single guy needs to get a good night's sleep before the flight home tomorrow." Kurt walked over to the door and opened it, staring pointedly at the wall.

Blaine picked up his coat and stepped out into the hallway. "Kurt —" He wasn't able to finish his sentence before the door was slammed in his face. He stood there for a minute, his confusion about how things had deteriorated so quickly fading as his anger and hurt grew. How dare Kurt make him feel like he'd done something wrong? He'd been right that Kurt was too impaired to be making such important decisions about their relationship. If they'd woken up in the morning and Kurt had regretted it, well, Blaine wasn't about to put either one of them in that position. And how dare Kurt insinuate that Blaine had a bad reputation and was therefore expected to put out (oh god, did he really have that much of a reputation?). Blaine was a single, competent adult, so it was none of Kurt's business what he did or with whom.

Without even remembering how he got there, Blaine found himself back in his room. He threw his coat down on the floor and immediately headed for the mini-bar, determined to drink away his disappointment and anger.

He was lying on his back in bed, legs propped up on the headboard with two tiny Vodka bottles sitting empty beside him, when a knock sounded. He lifted his head to look at the clock and then at the door. It must be Kurt, coming to grovel for his forgiveness. No one else would be coming 'round at three in the morning. He hauled himself up off the bed and pulled the door open.

It wasn't Kurt.

"Sebastian. What are you doing here?"

Sebastian propped a shoulder against the door frame and smiled, "I saw the light on under your door, so I thought I'd take the chance. I don't often make mistakes, but when I do I like to own up to them, so I just wanted to say that you were amazing tonight." He lifted up a bottle of what looked to be whisky and leaned forward, his voice dropping seductively. "You were about the sexiest thing on skates that I've ever seen. I thought maybe we could have a few drinks and…talk. Get to know each other better."

Blaine considered him for a minute, then held the door open wider and stepped aside.