Kurt sat at the back of the room, mouth agape, his delicate features furrowed into a look of deep concentration. He was trying to come to terms with exactly what he had just witnessed; he was both thoroughly confused and amazed in equal parts. Not only had the Warblers had just come out on stage and seamlessly two-stepped to a perfectly arranged a capella version of a Backstreet Boys song, but they were GOOD… they were really good.

Kurt was amazed that a group of singing boys could unnerve him so much. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the group of boys per se… just the one boy. The one with the beautiful dark curly hair, that Kurt inexplicably wanted to run his fingers through, the golden honey eyes that he could just stare into forever, and his voice. The way he had sung that song! It was like he had been singing it to Kurt, and Kurt alone. He had felt the Warbler’s eyes on him from the beginning, and had been entirely transfixed until the song finished minutes later.

Actually, if he was going to be totally and completely honest with himself, he was still transfixed. He had watched the Warblers as they had finished their performance, all of them clapping each other on the backs, and laughing as they took their seats on the other side of the room. Kurt had tried not to be too disheartened that they had taken seats that were so far away… Why were they so far away? There were plenty of seats that they could have taken closer by to his… Maybe he had misread the signs; maybe Kurt had just happened to be in that Warbler’s line of vision… oh God. What if he had made the whole thing up in his head… he did tend to do that…

Head spinning, Kurt stood up quickly, almost knocking over the chair next to him. Recovering quickly from his sudden movement, Kurt turned to Rachel, who was looking at him with the most peculiar expression.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, eyes looking around wildly.

He needed to leave the room. He needed to be somewhere that wasn’t where he was. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he just couldn’t. What he really needed was to be away from that Warbler. Even from across the room he was doing things to Kurt, making him feel things that he had never experienced before. He was going insane, like, actually. Kurt had thought he’d gone crazy before, but those times had been nothing in comparison to what he was feeing right now. He couldn’t get the Warbler’s pretty face, his eyes, or his peculiar triangular eyebrows out of his head. He wanted nothing more than to pull that face towards him, place soft kisses to those long luxurious eyelashes, to feel those soft lips against his. He wanted strong arms to wrap around him, holding him tightly….

He could feel a flush beginning to rise on his porcelain cheeks, and he was suddenly glad that he had his mask to help hide his embarrassment. Score one for the masquerade ball, Mr. Schue… he thought as he choked down a small giggle in his throat. He quickened his pace, as he pushed through the doorway, taking in a large gulp of air as he did. He continued down the hall for a bit, sighed, and slid down the nearest wall until he was sitting, legs outstretched on the cold concrete floor. The wall felt cool on the back of his neck, a complete contrast to the fire that was burning on his face. He was SO embarrassed. God, what was wrong with him? Burying his face in his hands, he shook his head slowly, waiting, hoping, that sanity would somehow return to him.

---

Blaine leaned back in his chair and glanced over at the punch table. He was always incredibly thirsty after finishing a solo—and it didn’t help that with all the bodies in the gym it was about a hundred degrees--but he didn’t think that the sugary sweet punch would do him much good. Running a hand through his thick hair, he turned to Jeff.

“I’ll be right back, I need some water.”

Used to Blaine’s habits by now, Jeff nodded distractedly and turned back to his conversation with David.

Not sure of the layout of McKinley, Blaine headed for the nearest door. Outside of the gym it was immediately quieter, and he took a second to lean back against the closed door. The air felt cool on his cheeks, which were still flushed—and not just from the energetic performance.

The image of the boy in the silver mask with the sweet, clear eyes was still in the forefront of Blaine’s mind. Sucking in a breath he shook his head, and tried to rid himself of the thoughts that were creeping through his skull.

He was out, out and proud. But… the slightly crooked pinkie finger on his left hand served as a reminder that just because he was comfortable with who he was, didn’t mean everyone was. He could not escape the feeling of dread at being at another high school dance, and being entranced by another boy.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath before moving into the darkened hallway. There would be a fountain nearby, and the cold water would clear his head.

Passing what seemed to be the fifth classroom (and still no water fountain), Blaine caught a glimpse of movement just up ahead. It was still too dark to make out any details, but he could see the outline of a person sitting against the floor. Assuming that they’d needed to get a breather like himself, he headed towards them.

“Hey, I don’t suppose you know where to find a water fountain? Man, it is hot in that gym!”

---

Kurt jumped at the sound of the voice calling out through the hallway. He looked up, eyes wide, entirely expecting to be picked up and shoved into the locker. His features changed to those of confusion when he saw the Warbler standing just above him, eyes curious.

“Huh?” Kurt replied quietly, inwardly cursing his stupidity. Why couldn’t he say anything coherent? It was like this boy had completely wiped him of all of his wits.

“Water fountains? I don’t suppose you have those here at McKinley?” The Warbler asked him, eyebrows raised.

Kurt gave himself a little shake, pushing himself off of a locker so he was standing.

“Sure, Warbler, follow me.” He said, striding away. He was hopefully exuding more confidence than he was feeling inside. His heart gave the teeniest little flutter as he felt the Warbler fall into step beside him. Actually, it was more than a little flutter. He glanced sideways at the other boy, and the beating in his chest sped up.

The two boys walked a few steps in silence, and Kurt wondered if the other boy could hear the pounding of his heart in his chest. He assumed not, but it felt as loud to him as if there was a jackhammer pounding on the floor right beside them.

“I’m Kurt, by the way” he said breaking the silence.

"Blaine" said the other boy, holding out his hand for Kurt to shake.

Kurt took Blaine's hand in his, and shook it firmly. It seemed to Kurt, as if they held their hands for just a second or two more than would be deemed appropriate for a proper handshake… but his head was reeling. He had no idea how much actual time had passed. He looked down slightly at the other boy, and their eyes locked for the briefest of moments. Then suddenly, as if burned, they dropped their hands and looked away from each other, embarrassed.

"So… you guys were really good back there," Kurt started awkwardly. "I've never heard anyone do the Backstreet Boys in eight part harmony. Very impressive!" He let out a small giggle, inwardly cursing. Ugh! Why, oh why did he have to do that?

---

“Thanks,” Blaine grinned, his eyes sparkling behind his mask. He had suggested the number, and was delighted that it had gone as well as he’d hoped.

As pleased as the compliment had made him, it could not take his mind off of the way Kurt’s hand had felt in his own. It had fit into his perfectly. In fact, everything about this encounter with the beautiful boy in the silver mask seemed too good to actually be happening. A part of him was convinced that he was making it up in his head—the Gap-attack incident with Jeremiah remained fresh in his mind.

Kurt silently gestured ahead of them, and Blaine spotted the water fountain. He stepped up to it and took a long drink, closing his eyes in pleasure as the cold water hit his throat.

After his final swallow, he straightened up and wiped the last drops of water from his lips. He was conscious of the fact that both he and Kurt still wore their masks. It seemed as though taking his off would somehow ruin this moment.

Not that a walk to a water fountain was a moment, a part of him cautioned. Kurt could just be a helpful student. There might be nothing more than kindness here.

Despite the warnings in his mind, he could not help himself from bringing his eyes up to meet Kurt’s. Or the way that those clear eyes caused his breath to catch in his throat.

“Kurt…” he paused, unsure how to continue. Unsure if he should. But something drove him to take a step forward, to take Kurt’s perfect hand and hold it in his own. “Would you like to get out of here?”