Chapter 6

(KURT'S POV)

So I tried singing again. In the shower this time. The steam made my throat looser and my body calmer, and the sound of the running water made the mistakes slightly less noticeable to my ears.

And it was... Slightly better. Not great, not even good, but better.

I'm trying to focus on that positive aspect of the situation. I feel that if I practice more often, I can train my voice to be somewhat decent again. As much as I've always hated the feminine intonation of my voice, yesterday's... debacle has made me realize that I'd rather be amazing than be nothing at all. People can close their eyes while I sing if it's too confusing for them, but at the end of the day, I'll still have an adam's apple and a dick dangling between my legs. Nothing I can do about that.

Today I went with an easier number, the Beatles's "Blackbird." I need to take baby steps. Yesterday I got ahead of myself. What was I thinking? That was way too advanced for getting back in the game again.

I mean, what I did today was less singing and more musically talking, because I still can't hold notes for shit-- but it was a start.

Right now I'm standing in front of the small dresser we picked up so that my clothes wouldn't have to stay packed in my suitcase anymore. It's shoved up against the wall next to the bathroom, so that's it's not in the way.

Once again I am at a loss when it comes to clothes. I don't have anything I can wear tonight. Apparently we're going to a bar... Like in public.

I still have the suit that I wore to Dad and Carole's wedding but I threw away the stained white button-up because... well, you know.

Somehow I feel like wearing a tux tonight would be just a tad too formal.

But the shoes and the tie could work. And, perhaps a pair of black jeans (they're way too loose for my taste but the one pair I have is all that I've got)...

That just leaves a shirt. Maybe I could borrow one?

But I can't ask Finn. The sleeves would be loo long and the hem would practically touch the floor.

So then my only other options is...

My head turns toward Blaine's room. He got home a little while ago, and music has been blasting loudly behind his door ever since.

My insides squirm at the idea of going in there, but I push through my nerves and make my feet move.

I knock on his door a few times and wait. I can hear the music being turned down, and a moment later the door swings open to reveal Blaine in a black tank top, black socks, and the littlest pair of green shorts I have ever seen on a man before.

His hair has broken free of its gel helmet, in a state of disarray on top of his head, and he's sweaty and out of breathe and... ridiculously adorable and... Jesus...

"What's up?" He asks, smiling openly at me. I had always thought his eyes were brown but up close and in this lighting they look almost green... I can't help getting distracted...

"Um," What was I gonna ask him again? I blink for a second, trying to collect my thoughts. Oh, right. "Do you think I could a borrow a shirt for tonight? Somehow I don't think flannel will fly with all the big city socialites."

I wince. That sounded better in my head.

He chuckles for a second at my admittedly odd wording, and says, "Uh, yeah sure, come in."

He turns and walks further into his room and I follow.

God, his legs are incredible. I watch the stretch and pull of the muscles beneath his skin from behind, and find myself really wanting to run my fingers through the hair on his thighs...

Oh my god, stop being gross.

I tug my chin up and look around the room instead.

I can hear the song that's playing a bit better now, and while I can tell it's something current and popular, I don't recognize it enough to be able to name it.

I notice that almost everything is arranged on the far side of the room, leaving a small, empty square of space to move around in. I wonder if he creates and practices routines for his classes in here, or if he just dances for fun.

Probably both. That must be what he was doing before I interrupted.

There is a ton of pictures taped up on the walls, all scattered throughout the room. Some of him with Rachel, some of him with boys in matching blazers, some of just the boys in blazers, a lot of him with the guy from the FreeCreditRatingToday.com commercial (... which I should ask about someday...), pictures of other people I don't know...

Blaine has so many friends...

I feel a sudden stab of envy but swallow it down as Blaine pulls open his closet to reveal a myriad of clothes in a wide range of colors.

I very nearly salivate as I take in all the garments, and part of me wants to just walk inside and close the door behind me and tell everyone else to go away as I touch all of the fabrics and try everything on, but the other part of me knows that that's impossible and also kind of creepy.

"What kind of shirt were you thinking of?" He asks, back facing me as he looks at the closet.

"I wasn't really sure. What do people usually wear to, like, bars and stuff?" Wow, that sounded naïve.

"It depends." He answers.

I raise an eyebrow. "On?"

"How you want your night to end." He says matter-of-factly, flashing a slightly cheeky grin in my direction. Upon seeing my now wide eyes, for I know exactly what he meant, he assures me, "Relax, Kurt. I'm only kidding... Sort of."

"Right." I chuckle nervously. "A button-up should be fine."

"Okay, what color you need?"

"What colors do you have?"

"All of them." Blaine deadpans. I huff out a breath of laughter.

"Well that narrows it down. Um... what would you suggest? The rest of my outfit is black."

"Hm..." He hums, looking through his closet. He emerges with a black shirt and a royal blue shirt. "An all-black outfit can be killer hot on anyone but the blue would really bring out the color of your eyes." He states with a professional tone of voice. I try to suppress the spark of excitement shooting through my body at that single sentence.

I move to stand in front of the full length mirror on the inside of the open closet door. Blaine comes up behind me and holds a shirt on either side of me. He's so close that I can feel his body heat and inhale the scent of drying sweat on his soft-looking skin. He smells masculine and it's weirdly erotic for me. It makes my heart jump into my throat and beat twice as fast, but instead of dealing with it, I start having an internal freak out, suddenly feeling way too warm and claustrophobic. I grab the blue shirt quickly and step away from the mirror, and away from Blaine, putting a large amount of space between us. Way too large to be subtle.

He's still holding the black shirt up awkwardly, as though he hasn't yet registered my sudden absence.

"Sorry," I sigh, catching his bewildered expression.

He analyzes my face for a second longer before shaking his head quickly, as though he were trying to clear it, and murmurs, "Um, no I'm sorry. I won't stand so close --"

"Please don't apologize," I say. God, it's not like he did anything wrong. It's all on me. "Um, thanks for the, uh..." I raise the blue shirt a little, clutching it tighter.

"Sure," He nods. "No problem."

I turn, my face on fire, and scramble out the door as quickly as possible.

(BLAINE'S POV)

I feel like I've made a fool of myself, although I have no idea how.

Maybe I should have put on a real pair of pants before I opened my door... I didn't think I'd ever have to worry about that kind of stuff in my own home but perhaps I do now.

I think back on high school, about how I was always tiptoeing around whichever straight dorm mate they paired me up with at Dalton. How they always thought I was coming on to them if I stood just a tad too close or held eye contact just a little too long... Always walking on eggshells because of the no-bullying policy...

I know Finn's at least somewhat cool with my being gay, but maybe Kurt isn't as okay with it as he originally seemed.

That would be... disappointing.

Was I invading his personal space?

It hadn't seemed like it at the time. Either way, I guess I'll have to be more careful from now on.

The sound of the front door opening and closing alerts me to Finn and Rachel's return.

I towel off my sweat and run a comb through my hair.

I then walk back over to my closet to choose an outfit for myself, thinking about the fact that that was the longest conversation I've had with Kurt since I met him. And it didn't even last three minutes.

After gelling my hair down (I've long since moved my product out of the bathroom), I step out of my room to see Finn already on the couch, and Kurt perched delicately next to him.

And he's cleaned up good.

My shirt is a little tight on him-- but in the best way-- and his sleek, black tie only makes him look slimmer. Also, his hair is combed back little so that I can actually see his entire face.

He looks nice and I kinda want to stare at him some more but instead I turn my head away.

"Alright, everybody ready?" Rachel asks happily, walking into the room wearing heels and red lipstick.

"Damn." I appraise her. She smiles and does a little twirl before motioning for Kurt and Finn to get up off the couch.

"Alright Kurt, we've been here for too whole weeks." Finn announces, as though that equals a lifetime. "You gotta get a girl tonight, man. You've been single for too long!"

"You're in the big apple now-- millions of fish in the sea here!" Rachel says encouragingly.

"Hot fishes." Finn adds, slapping a hand on Kurt's back.

Kurt chuckles, visibly uncomfortable. "It hasn't been that long, Finn." He mumbles, looking down.

"You haven't been with a girl since college," I notice Kurt's face twitch a little at that comment, making me a bit curious. "I just wanna see you happy, man."

"I am happy." He defends, not looking convincing at all. "I-I just wanna focus on finding work right now, and--"

"Well, that doesn't mean you can't have some fun along the way. Just let loose! You never let loose." Finn tries to persuade him as we shuffle out the door.

"Right." Kurt appeases, anxiously running his hands through his hair a few times, ruining it. Soon enough we are out in the New York air, having decided earlier to walk the couple blocks to the bar. Rachel and Finn are talking about something so I walk with Kurt.

"Let's just get this over with so that we can all go to Scandals after." I remark with a smirk, testing his reaction.

"There's a Scandals around here? I thought there was only one in Ohio..." Kurt says, trailing off once he realizes what came out of his mouth.

My mind freezes for a split second-- He knows about the one in Lima?

"Uh, it's a chain. There's a couple other ones but I can't remember which states they're in..." I say, eyeing him.

He nods stiffly, not meeting my gaze for the rest of the walk.

(KURT'S POV)

I can't breathe in this shirt.

My clothes are usually a size too big but right now I can feel the line of buttons through the tank top I'm wearing underneath this. It leaves nothing to the imagination and I have nowhere to hide.

We're sitting on the stools right in front of the bartenders' area because there weren't any tables left when we got here.

We were talking for a while but gradually started drifting as the night wore on. Rachel saw some of her friends here tonight and introduced all of us. However, they are Rachel's friends, so (as to be expected) they were quite loud and talkative. It was too chaotic so I ducked out not too long into the conversation and moved to the other side of the bar.

I keep ordering bad-tasting beers, whatever kind Finn had suggested, and eventually get up and just wonder around, not quite sure what to do with myself.

There's live entertainment so I head on over to the little raised platform where a band is playing, its lead singer a beautiful black woman with killer style. I appreciate her dress-- bright purple and sparkling in the low lighting. The alcohol I've consumed makes me slightly less tactful than I'd normally be, and my eyes move up her body in a way that could be considered suggestive, I suppose, if I was checking out her and not just her fabulous ensemble.

When I meet her eyes, however, I can tell that she misinterpreted my gaze. She smiles alluringly at me as she sings, clearly interested. I know I'm blushing hard, because it's just weird to imagine anyone being attracted to me.

Her smile turns amused at she notices my redness, and I feel a flash of recognition as I gaze at her, but I can't explain why.

She has an incredible voice, and I find myself leaning against a wall near the small stage, just listening and draining my beer. It calms my nerves for a long while.

After a few more songs, the band takes a break, and soon enough I see those sparkly purple-clad hips sashaying toward me.

Just let loose! You never let loose... Finn's words from earlier echo through my head, and all of a sudden I wish I had something stronger than Budweiser.

I look over her shoulder and see Finn staring straight at me, raising his beer in a toast, as if to say Go for it.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I ask, turning back toward her.

"Sure."

We make our way over to the bartender, and, once she receives her apple martini, sit down on a couple of stools.

"Kurt Hummel." I start, offering my hand to shake. She takes it with a firm, yet somehow soft, grip.

"I know." She smiles again.

My brows furrow.

"How do you...?"

"We went to McKinley together. I'm Mercedes Jones, I was in glee club with your brother."

I'm shocked.

"You know, I knew you looked familiar..."

"Did you?" She smirks.

"I did. You lost a lot of weight." I comment, hoping that came off as kind. "You look good."

"Thanks. You lost all your baby fat." She chuckles, and I join her. For some reason, I feel oddly at ease with this woman.

"I did."

"You know," She starts, smiling shyly into her her glass. "I had the biggest crush on you back in high school..."

Oh god. And there goes the little semblance of confidence I very nearly had.

"Really?" I ask, trying to look intrigued.

One look at my expression has her laughing, "Relax. I'm not gonna jump your bones."

I-- embarrassingly- almost choke on my drink, trying to pass it off as clearing my throat, and failing miserably.

"Sorry, I'm new at this..." I manage to say.

She raises her eyebrows and says, "At what?" with an falsely innocent, flirty smile.

"I... don't know." I grin.

"Well you better figure it out quickly, 'cause I gotta get back up there soon." She nods toward the stage.

"Is that what you do now? You're a singer?" How lucky.

"Aspiring-superstar diva." She laughs and it's contagious. "And you?"

"I just moved here. With Finn and Rachel, actually..." I turn around, and motion for them to come over-- anything to take the pressure off of me. Both of their faces break out into wide smiles once they actually recognize her.

"Oh my god, Mercedes!" Rachel runs over and squeals, hugging her.

"You look amazing!" Finn admires.

I feel good right now. Giddy at the fact that I made this reunion happen.

I feel a pair of eyes boring a hole into the back of my head, and turn around to see bright hazel across the bar. Blaine looks odd-- like a little upset about something. I give a big grin at him, my happiness flowing off of me in waves. His faces softens as he smiles politely back, eyebrows unfurling the slightest amount, but he still looks a bit distraught for reasons I can't explain.

After a few minutes of catching up, someone from the band calls to Mercedes.

"Well, I gotta go guys, but it was great seeing you all!" She says, her eyes landing on me. She pulls out a slip of paper and a pen, jotting something down and then handing it to me.

My fingers curl around the paper, glancing at it to see a series of numbers.

"Just in case..." She winks, sauntering away before she can catch my face heating up to record highs.

(BLAINE'S POV)

Why do I have this sinking feeling in my chest when I watch them flirt?

It's not like I really know Kurt (or her, for that matter). It's not like I'd have a chance-- it's not like I want a chance.

Besides, I should be happy for him. I mean, he smiled a joyful smile at me at me just a moment ago. That's progress.

It's just-- seeing them together is wrong somehow. It just is.

Plus she's gorgeous, and, from what I can tell, Rachel and Finn seem to like her already. This is good for Kurt, this is--

Wait, what is she writing down? Why is she giving it to him?

Why is she winking-- god, why did I suggest we all go out tonight? We should have just stayed home! I should just stick to dancing, 'cause clearly I'm too stupid to come up with any bright ideas--

I'm going over there. I don't like this at all.

"Excuse me." I tell Rachel's friends, who don't even seem to notice that I'm walking away from them.

"Hey, Blaine?!" Finn calls, a hand clasped on a stiff-looking Kurt's shoulder, the girl in the purple dress finally gone.

"Yeah?" I ask, now standing close enough to have real conversation with the three of them.

"It was a success! Kurt got a chick's number." Finn grins proudly.

"And not just any chick. Mercedes Jones, one of our friends from high school." Rachel gushes.

"That's awesome!" I exclaim, mustering up as much enthusiasm as needed to sound genuine. Kurt doesn't meet my eyes, however.

"We only talked for a minute--" Kurt starts, bashful.

"And he didn't even need a wingman!" Finn praises, interrupting Kurt.

I laugh at Finn excitement.

"Alright, now it's my turn!" I really need to get out of here. "You guys ready for Scandals?"