Okay so maybe he wasn’t ready.

It was only whenever he was less than a mile away from Scandals that he properly began hyperventilating. Pulling into the car park, he stayed in his car for a few minutes just to regain his composure and make himself look somewhat reasonable again. He was ready.

Kurt felt like he had been in the closet for too long but he couldn’t tell his father or any of his friends in school - his father could only react violently and he would be taunted relentlessly for it by his peers. He just couldn’t tell them. Instead he was going to try and find some kind of acceptance in Lima’s only gay bar. He rationalised it by saying to himself that if any of his peers were in there, they would also be in the closet so wouldn’t out him. He would still rather that he didn’t meet any but he had a back-up plan.

No, he wasn’t ready.

His navigator’s engine rumbled to a start and Kurt thought about his father buying him this and how all the presents and special treatment would end if his father knew what he was. He was leaving for sure. Then the thought struck him - was he going to live like this forever? No. Kurt had no intention of living in fear and shame forever. There may be a large part of him that is scared now but he intends to bring that to a stop as soon as possible and now was when to start.

Thinking about his plans for the future - New York, Broadway, a husband - Kurt tentatively took a step out of the car. Then another. He walked to the entrance. He was officially standing outside Scandals. Outside a gay bar. He could easily turn around and leave and forget about this - maybe he could marry that Rachel Berry? - but Kurt swallowed his pride and took a step over the threshold and officially entered Scandals.

The first thing he noticed was the pungent stench of beer, sweat and semen. Weren’t gay men supposed to be clean?, Kurt thought to himself as his eyes adjusted to the dim, almost nonexistent lighting of the grimy little foyer he was in. It was all suddenly a bit too much for him as he turned to leave, he had come this far tonight and he would come back tomorrow and maybe make it further in, but a great, big burly man was entering behind him and there was no way Kurt would be able to squeeze past him so, swallowing the lump in his throat, he stepped into the bar area.

The bar smelt worse than the foyer. The stench was becoming too much for Kurt as he became disorientated and searched for the exit again - how had he managed to lose it considering he was just there? Also, wasn’t there supposed to be someone to check his ID? He had gone to all the trouble of getting one so pangs of annoyance began shooting through around his stomach.

Kurt spotted the door - a drag queen with a huge wig had been blocking it from view - and made his way to it. Three feet away, all the lights went out and panic gripped the already terrified teenage boy. Then, a spotlight shone onto the large stage lining the far wall as the drag queen that had been standing in front of the door stepped onto it, the spotlight reflecting off the thousands of sequins she was wearing.

“Hello ladies!” she called into the microphone, surveying the audience who were whooping and clapping excitedly. “Ooh I hope you left the tags on those pants, love, because they are truly vile,” she said, looking down at a man in the front row. “That is, if the store’ll even take them back.”

The drag queen’s sass helped to relax Kurt. Laughing, he decided to at least stay for her - he didn’t want the night to be a total waste.

“Yes, I think I met your step-sister...” She had moved onto a new victim. “Cinderella, was it?”

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter.

“Well, hello new boy!” Kurt froze, his eyes widening. He did not want to draw attention to himself this early on. Luckily, the drag queen was looking at another man in the front row. “Did you come on your own?” The boy seemingly replied yes as she said, “Ooh brave... Still, I do it quite often.” She winked at the crowd that burst into hysterics again.

“Look at you lot in the front row, not looking at me... Think if you do that I won’t come near you? Well it’s not going to work, is it?” Over the sound system, a man clearing his throat could be heard. “Oh all right, dear!” the drag queen called, looking off-stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen - and those who aren’t quite sure - he’s the guy we all came,” she winked at the audience again. “To see... I present to you, your singing host for the night: Blaine Anderson!”

Kurt recognised that name. Wasn’t that the name of the new transfer? They might share a class together - it was only two weeks into the term, he barely knew what classes he was actually in let alone who was in them - and, if so, he needed to get out of there now.

A song began to play on loudly. String instruments were playing a melody and then a beat came in - a steady, clich� dance-pop beat. There were men chanting, “YOUR DISCO, YOUR DISCO, YOUR DISCO NEEDS YOU!” Surely, this wasn’t anyone in Kurt’s school? The intro to this song was too ‘gay’ to possibly be performed by anyone Kurt knew. No, this was just a random stranger who might share a name with a boy who might be in his English class. However, he couldn’t be sure until the man took to the stage.

The white sheet at the back of the stage suddenly lit up as a spotlight shone on it from behind, a man’s figure silhouetted onto it.

“Your disco needs you!” a male falsetto cried out.

The curtain came down.

Kurt did know him. He definitely sat in his English class! He turned to leave immediately, not staying a moment longer in case he was spotted.

“Desperately seeking someone, willing to travel.” Kurt paused for a second. He could definitely relate - being in the closet meant that he was always lonely, praying for a boyfriend; that’s why he was planning to move to New York. Blaine was slowly walking across the stage, staring at the front row, Kurt observed as he turned to watch some more. How could he be spotted from all the way out here? He was practically in the shadows.

“You’re lost in conversation and useless at Scrabble.” Kurt chuckled quietly to himself - who wrote that line?

“Happiness will never last, darkness comes to kick your ass,” Blaine sang into the microphone, pouting comically. Then, he turned and looked directly at Kurt and winked. “Ass!”

Kurt was dumbstruck. How was he supposed to get himself out of this? He had obviously been spotted. No, get a grip, Hummel, he thought to himself; there was a plan, Blaine wasn’t out yet so why would he out Kurt? Kurt rationalised to himself as Blaine strutted across the stage. Neglecting to pay attention to the rest of the song (due to being deep in thought), Kurt only heard snippets of it until Blaine suddenly stopped centre-stage and a spotlight illuminated him from above.

“Vous n'�tes jamais seuls,” he shouted to the crowd, looking up to the ceiling with a gigantic smile on his face. For the first time since they made eye contact, Kurt looked up at the stage and grinned along with him. There was something in Blaine’s smile that just made him smiled wider than he had smiled in a very long time - though he had not had much to smile about lately. Blaine continued to monologue in French for a couple more lines before singing some more, that gigantic grin not leaving his face for a moment. Even as he reached for notes Kurt had previously thought only extremely skilled women or pre-pubescent boys could reach, his pearly whites remained firmly displayed - not that Kurt minded, he was actually admiring the boy’s unbelievably white teeth.

No, now was not the time to begin developing crushes. That would not help with staying in the closet. No, Kurt had one job now: talk to Blaine and make sure Blaine would not out him to the whole school or, even worse, his father.

As if he was reading Kurt’s mind, Blaine finished the song with a bow and left the stage. The panic was setting back in. What if Blaine came over and talked to Kurt? How was Kurt supposed to talk to someone he had never spoken to immediately after outing himself to?

“It’s Kurt, right?” a deep voice said behind him. Turning, Kurt was confronted with Blaine, just as he had feared.

“Erm... yeah, yeah, Kurt Hummel.” Kurt inwardly cursed at his stuttering, where was his trademark sass and wit? “And you’re... Blaine?”

“Blaine Anderson.” Blaine stood there for a moment longer, seemingly surveying Kurt, his eyes raking up and down the boy’s body. “And what brings you to Scandals?”

“Just... y’know... checking the place out...”

“So you’re gay?” Kurt was taken aback by Blaine’s bluntness. This was his moment. He had never even said it out loud to himself, let alone to another person. He had to say it.

“Erm... yeah, I think so...”

“You think so?”

“I... er... yeah, I am... Yeah.” The stuttering was apparently not going anywhere, but neither was Kurt’s sexuality. Laughing internally at his own joke helped to boost his confidence, joking about it seemed to ease some of the tension thinking about his sexuality usually brought about. “What about you?”

“Obviously,” Blaine said. “Come on, let’s sit down - my legs are aching after that performance.”

Now that he wasn’t quite so worried about his outing and now that Blaine had finally spoken a proper sentence, Kurt noticed his accent.

“Are you from here?”

“Does it sound like it?”

“Well... no, just wondering where you’re from...”

“London, originally. My mum lived there until a couple of weeks ago, my dad’s lived here for about 16 years now.”

“Why are you living here, then?”

“Never mind that. So, another gay at McKinley? Good. I take it you’re not out yet, then?” Kurt barely even noticed the conversation change; he was too distracted by the question posed to him.

“Well neither are you!” Yes, Kurt would go on the defence for now, too afraid of the honey-coloured eyes that were staring right at him. If he pushed Blaine away now, he wouldn’t have to talk to him about any of this.

“Was there anything closeted about that performance?” Blaine asked, his eyebrows raised. Kurt knew the look well: sass. “The only reason you don’t know about me is because you’ve never asked, Hummell.”

“Erm, right... sorry.”

The two lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Blaine was still looking at Kurt while Kurt was doing anything but look at Blaine.

“So do your parents know?” Blaine was the one to break the silence; Kurt knew he didn’t have the strength to attempt to start a conversation so was immediately grateful.

“Well I haven’t told my dad yet, no.”

“And your mum?”

“She died.”

“Oh.” The awkward silence was back. “So am I the only one who knows you’re gay?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks.” Kurt finally looked at Blaine, smiling as much as he could given the emotional turmoil going on inside him.

“Do you not know any other gay people, then?”

“No, none that I know of.”

“Interesting.” Blaine was looking at him, his eyes half-lidded. Kurt began to feel very uncomfortable with his gaze. “Well you’ve come to the right place, we’re all queer here, dear.”

“Here here!” a drag queen called as she walked past the table, flashing a smile at the two of them. “Ooh! Who’s Blaine blowing tonight?” she added before sashaying back to the bar. Blaine, for the first time since they began speaking, seemed to show any emotion other than vague interest: shyness.

“I take it you’re a regular here...?”

“You could say that.” Blaine seemed to be becoming more animated, he was even grinning at Kurt. “Been coming here every night since I moved in with my dad so I guess you could say that.”

“And what was that ‘who’s Blaine blowing tonight’ stuff?”

“Oh, I have a bit of a reputation for pulling men.” Kurt blushed violently and hoped that Blaine wouldn’t notice. If the sudden flash of amusement that crossed Blaine’s face was anything to go by, he noticed. “So I take it you’re a virgin?”

“WHAT?” Kurt screeched, his normally high-pitched voice reaching new heights as it rose above the din of the club that was somehow still functioning as normal even though Blaine had just asked him that! “Of course I- I mean, I- Yes!”

“Ok, ok, just checking...!”

“Well why are you ‘just checking’? What’s it got to do with you?”

“I was just curious! God, don’t get your knickers in a twist!”

“Oh my god! Well I’m leaving if you’re going to be so crude!”

“Wait, but-!”

“I’ll see you in school, Blaine Anderson!” Kurt hissed at him, getting up so quickly he managed to knock over his chair before storming out of the room, fighting against his head-rush.

“School?” one of the men asked - the club had noticed Kurt’s screaming.

“Oh shut up, Raoul, you knew it,” Blaine spat back as he began to make his way to the car park. “And you didn’t mind when I was sucking your dick, either!” he called over his shoulder, exiting Scandals.