Blaine refused to talk with Sebastian about what he had just witnessed between him and Kurt. The moment Kurt's eyes locked onto Blaine's, and he had pleaded with Kurt to mark him, everything...the theater, the competition, and Sebastian, had all washed away like the tide. Their moment, shared in front of anyone who found it necessary to watch, was just for them.

"I mean, love," Sebastian continued fruitlessly, "that's a strong word. You've known him, what, a little more than a month?"

Blaine rolled his eyes as the next singer came on stage to perform.

"I've heard you say you love Crown Royale," Sebastian ticked off on his fingers in a hushed whisper, "your sports car, your hair dresser's tiramisu. So, love with you is kind of a vague, empty thing, right?"

Blaine really wanted to put a hand over Sebastian's mouth, but he had no intention of putting anything of his near Sebastian's face. So he handed Sebastian another bottle of water with a severe look, and turned his attention back toward the stage.

Blaine didn't listen as the remaining singers on stage sang. His mind wandered to whatever green room Kurt occupied, warming up his voice, maybe tugging nervously on his shirt, possibly thinking of him. God, Blaine hoped he was thinking of him, because Blaine couldn't stop thinking of Kurt - the way he smelled, the way he felt in his arms, the way his lips brushed against his skin.

Halfway through a slightly pitchy rendition of "Annie, Get Your Gun", Blaine spotted a familiar burly figure in a black suit carrying an armful of lavender roses being ushered into the lower level of the theater, and directed to the standing room only section.

"I'll be right back."

Blaine bolted quickly but quietly from the mezzanine and down the staircase. The usher opened the door for him. He tiptoed to where Dave stood, rocking from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Blaine touched his arm gently to get his attention. Dave started slightly. He turned to see Blaine touching his arm, and smiled warily. Blaine motioned to the door. Dave looked confused, but followed after him. Out in the lobby, Blaine spoke.

"We have a couple of extra seats up in the mezzanine." Blaine smiled as he made his way to the staircase. "They're the best seats in the house."

"Thanks." Dave, bemused, climbed the stairs. "I didn't mean to be so late, but I couldn't get Eva down."

"Who's watching the kids?" Blaine asked.

Dave opened his eyes wide in surprise, a little confused as to why Blaine actually cared.

"Oh...uh... a friend of mine from the LGBTQ center I volunteer for downtown. She stopped by just long enough so I can see Kurt sing, then I have to go back."

Blaine silently cheered that he would get the evening alone with Kurt, but he also felt guilty. Dave loved Kurt, that much was obvious. Kurt had, in essence, been Dave's one and only for so long.

Blaine directed Dave to the seat beside him. Sebastian looked at the two, his brow furrowing as he took in the massive man with the flowers.

Blaine sighed. Once again, he had forgotten about Sebastian.

"Sebastian," Blaine whispered, gesturing to the other man, "this is Dave Karofsky. Dave, this is Sebastian Smythe."

Both men regarded each other with narrow eyes. Dave placed the bouquet delicately on the table, rescuing a few blooms from being crushed. Sebastian watched Dave in silence.

Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, covering the bright screen with his hand as he read the message.

From: Kurt
Wish me luck <3

From: Blaine
Good luck, my beautiful, my love. Knock 'em dead.

From: Kurt
I intend to ;)

Blaine noticed Dave glance over at him with an odd expression.

"Kurt." Blaine flashed the screen in Dave's direction to show him the original text. "Do you want me to tell him you're here?"

Dave's eyes appraised Blaine in the oddest way. Blaine wasn't sure what to make of it, but regardless, he needed Dave on his side.

It wasn't just that. Blaine found a need for the man to like him, to trust him. He wanted them to be friends.

"Yes...please." Dave smiled; just a small, wavering lift at the corners of his mouth.

Blaine texted quickly, and got an immediate response. He smiled and turned the screen for Dave to see.

From: Kurt
Yay! Hi, Dave. Thank God you could make it!
Signed - The Dancing Queen

Dave's face melted into a smile so full of love and affection, Blaine's heart stuttered. Blaine knew that smile. He himself wore it every time he saw Kurt, got a text from Kurt, thought about Kurt...

"Dancing Queen?" Blaine asked, eyebrows raised.

Dave looked at Blaine. He still wasn't quite sure about this man, but he knew Kurt loved him. Dave loved Kurt desperately. He needed to at least try and give Blaine a chance.

"Our junior year," Dave began, leaning over toward Blaine, "I was elected prom king...and Kurt...uh...won prom queen..."

Dave looked down at his hands in his lap. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, waiting for an explanation.

"It was a joke..." Dave continued. "Kurt was out and proud, and kids at our school hated that they couldn't keep him down..."

Dave's expression was pained, but also strangely tinged with regret. Blaine waited patiently as Dave gathered his thoughts.

"The first dance for the king and queen was 'Dancing Queen'." Dave's lips lifted in a half smile.

"The ABBA song?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah." Dave chuckled back.

"Well, what did Kurt do?" Blaine lingered on Dave's every word. Dave noticed Blaine's extreme interest. Maybe Blaine was a good guy. Maybe they could be friends.

"He owned it," Dave said with pride. "Accepted his crown and walked out on the floor, ready to dance...but..."

Dave looked into Blaine's expectant face.

"I wasn't out yet," Dave defended, "and I was scared. So, I left him there, on the dance floor."

Blaine gasped, sitting back up. Dave looked back at his hands, ashamed. Blaine didn't know how to feel about Dave's confession. On one hand, Blaine was upset that Dave would do that to Kurt, his Kurt. On the other hand, Blaine couldn't admit that he wouldn't have done the same. He wasn't exactly 'out and proud' in high school either. Dave had obviously made it up to Kurt. He was devoted to him. Blaine put a hand carefully over Dave's. Dave looked at it, blinking away his thoughts of the past and a long hidden shame.

"Anyway," Dave said, "whenever he knows I worry about him, he signs his texts 'Dancing Queen'. It's his way of saying 'he's got this'."

Blaine squeezed Dave's hand, before turning to applaud the singer on stage, whose song Blaine hadn't heard a note of. Dave thought for a moment, and then leaned back over towards Blaine.

"I...failed Kurt a lot," Dave confessed. Blaine turned to look at the expression on Dave's face, contrite and full of regret. "Please...don't do the same."

"I won't," Blaine said, holding Dave's sincere gaze.

Sebastian watched the interchange between these two with interest. When they broke away from their conversation, he leaned over to Blaine.

"What's with Hummel that he's got the two of you so fuckin' head over heels in love?" Sebastian smirked as he watched Blaine's face harden, his eyes turn cold. "I think I've got to get myself into that man's pants. You know, see if he can make me fall in love with him, too."

Blaine gripped the arms of the seat until his body shook. Dave looked over at Blaine's reaction, and the look of smug triumph on Sebastian's face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Will Schuester walked on stage. The audience quieted down.

"So, that was our twenty students competing for the coveted Criss Colfer Purple Pageant Scholarship. Already, our scholarship has reached $45,000!"

The audience applauded politely, and Will joined them, clapping from stage. Blaine heard Sebastian groan, and kicked him sharply in the ankle.

"Now, while our distinguished celebrity judges deliberate..." Will motioned to the mezzanine. Blaine stood briefly. Sebastian waved halfheartedly from his seat. "...may I present for your enjoyment, by special request, our featured soloist..." Will paused for dramatic effect. "...Palomar College's one and only ever countertenor...Mr. Kurt Hummel!"

Kurt walked onstage to light applause, extending a hand for Mr. Schuester to shake as they passed each other on stage.

"So, how good is your boy Hummel?" Sebastian asked unenthusiastically.

"He's probably amazing...he hasn't sung for me yet." Blaine's eyes never left the man preparing on stage.

"You mean, you've never heard him sing?" Sebastian guffawed. "What if he sucks!?"

Dave shot Sebastian a look of pure poison.

"Friend of yours, Anderson?" Dave growled.

Blaine shook his head.

"No way," Blaine whispered. "I've never seen him before in my life."

Kurt waited for the applause to die down, fingers laced together. He looked over the audience, eyes sweeping over the smiling students in the front row, then the rows and rows of patrons sitting, waiting for the night to end. Twenty individual singers, and then him. He felt sorry for these poor people. Their butts must be asleep.

Kurt giggled nervously, and the audience went silent, waiting to be let in on the joke. Kurt raised his eyes to the mezzanine, focusing on where Blaine and, surprisingly enough, Dave sat, waiting for him to begin.

"Hello." Kurt cleared his throat. "My name is Kurt Hummel, and tonight, I'm going to perform a song that I've loved since I was six, but...um... I think for the first time in my life I finally understand what it means."

The music started, and Kurt's fidgeting ceased. He put his hands to his side, and looked longingly up toward the mezzanine. A single chord, played on the piano, held the curious attention of the crowd. Then another chased it, just as its predecessor dissolved into the air. Blaine watched Kurt take a deep breath, and Blaine held his.

For a moment, Blaine doubted, but one look into Dave's face, already awash with wide-eyed wonder, wiped that doubt away. There was no way Sebastian could be right. Kurt had to be amazing. Everything he did was amazing.

Blaine didn't know what he expected Kurt's singing voice to sound like, but for sure, he never expected this. Kurt opened his mouth, and the first few words flowed effortlessly into the air, like just a breath of summer, sweet and yielding. Even Sebastian sat up straighter in his seat as the notes rose to meet them.

"Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to sit in your chair,
to ruin your sleep..."
                        
A flute chimed in to meet him, but its impeccably clear tone was only a shadow of the beauty of his voice.

"Someone to need you too much,
Someone to know you too well,
Someone to pull you up short,
to put you through hell..."

Slowly, more instruments joined in - a violin here, a supporting harmony from the piano - all performed flawlessly. Amazing as they sounded, they drifted away beneath the lyrical magic of Kurt Hummel, weaving his spell not only on Blaine and Dave, but the entire audience. From the first note he sang, everyone held their breath as one, not daring to disturb the magic, to lift the veil.

"Someone you have to let in,
Someone whose feelings you spare,
Someone who, like it or not,
will want you to share,
a little, alot..."

There wasn't just perfection woven into the notes and the melody, but the whole package. Everything that was Kurt manifested itself in this one, perfect song. His voice, his stance, his fingers as they played over his own hands and then gestured through the air, the flutter of his eyelids, the emotion in his voice. Dave mouthed the words. He must have heard Kurt sing them a hundred times, but he looked as lost in dawning joy as everyone else.

"Someone to crowd you with love,
Someone to force you to care,
Someone to make you come through, who'll always be there,
As frightened as you,
Of being alive, being alive, being alive,
Being alive..."

Blaine had seen a revival of Company with his parents too many years ago, and he remembered this song. At the time, he hadn't bother to really pay attention to the words. Kurt's clear voice carried those words to him now, as if he and Blaine were sitting at a table, gazing into each others' eyes, and Kurt was singing them to Blaine alone. Kurt had chosen this song for him, Blaine realized. The words meant something. They brought images to Blaine's mind - some of them sweet, some of them heartbreaking.

"Somebody hold me too close..."
(Blaine held him so hard against him, they were almost one person as they swayed and moved.)

"Somebody hurt me too deep..."
("Like a prostitute...")

"Somebody sit in my chair, and ruin my sleep..."
(The chair Kurt used in the mornings still sat out there, facing the ocean...)

"And make me aware, of being alive...being alive..."
("I don't think I was seeing the world properly until I met you. There was no color...no taste...")

"Somebody need me too much..."
("Be with me, Kurt... Completely. Make love to me. Let me see you. All of you.")

"Somebody know me too well..."
(Behind Kurt's expressive eyes Blaine could see all of the pain...all of the heartbreak...)

"Somebody pull me up short, and put me through hell..."
("I know I can't really ask you to make a commitment to me. Not with things the way they are...")

"And give me support, for being alive..."
("You're still free, sweetheart. As free as you let yourself be...")

"Make me alive, make me alive..."
("Kurt...maybe I'm being selfish, but this...this means everything to me.")

On it went, as the song continued. Images and feelings hit Blaine like lightning, each bolt thrown by Kurt, each one trying to make Blaine realize that he had started something he had better be willing to finish.

Blaine felt someone press something into his hand. He turned his head slightly to see Dave, tears rolling down his cheeks. Blaine looked at his palm and saw a tissue.

"Thanks," he whispered brokenly. Dave nodded.

The rest of the song played out for Blaine like a movie in his head, the movie of Kurt and Blaine. The music surged around him like a wave. Kurt, with his eyes burning up at him from the stage, had gone beyond just touching his heart and his body. Kurt had become a part of his soul. Now, he pleaded with Blaine, and the words belonged to him. They were written for him.

In his mind, Blaine already said yes.

"Somebody crowd me with love,
Somebody force me to care,
Somebody let me come through,
I'll always be there,
As frightened as you, to help us survive,
Being alive,
Being alive..."

Kurt's eyes swept the audience before his eyelids fluttered closed. For a moment, Kurt became one with the last few strains of music.

"Being alive!"

Before he even finished singing the last note, the entire theater roared to life. People everywhere jumped to their feet, applauding and hollering.

Kurt, with all the beauty and grace of a seasoned performer, bowed low, tears in his eyes. He waved up at the mezzanine, following it by blowing a kiss, and then turned to motion to the orchestra. When he saw them on their feet as well, applauding for him, he brought his hands to his face, trying to maintain his composure in the face of overwhelming praise.

Dave turned to Blaine standing beside him, clapping with tears in his eyes. Blaine noticed Dave and faced him.

"Thank you," Dave said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for doing this for him."

Blaine didn't have any words for Dave, only a smile as broad and impassioned as Dave's own.

Try as Kurt might, the applause would not die down. He bowed and bowed, but the entirety of the theater had fallen in love with Kurt Hummel. Mr. Schuester walked up on stage to pat Kurt on the back, and raised his hands to settle the audience.

"I don't know, Kurt," the choir director said with his usual effervescent cheer. "It sounds like they want another one." He turned to the audience and addressed them directly.

"Should we have him sing another one?"

The audience applauded. More hooting and hollering could be heard, louder this time. No where was the cheering louder than from the two men in the mezzanine. Blaine and Dave cupped their hands over their mouths and cheered, while Sebastian rolled his eyes and looked off to the ceiling to count the sound proof tiles.

"Okay, I'm going to need a little help here." Kurt clapped his hands in front of him and looked at the students seated in the first two rows of the audience. "Bethany, Ashley, Mercedes...could you come up here please?" Kurt waved the three women onto the stage.

"I had my swans on stand by," Kurt said in an affected, Hugh Jackman-esque accent. The crowd laughed as the women made their way back on stage, smiling and waving. Kurt gestured in their direction, and the audience responded, applauding enthusiastically as they took positions behind Kurt.

"Now, to sing this song properly, I should be wearing gold pants," Kurt said, running his hands down the front of his velvet clad thighs. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off his hands as they caressed his own legs. "But I think these will do."

Kurt nodded to the conductor, who raised his arms, taking his cue from the countertenor who had so easily taken charge. Kurt was in his element, slipping back into the persona of performer, diva, rising star.

Again, the music began, and Kurt's magic extended once more over the audience. This song bounced through the theater, piano and drum joining together. When the rhythm hit Kurt, he fixed the audience with playful and somewhat seductive eyes. He shifted his hips in time to the beat, and those eyes flicked up to the mezzanine. Blaine sat up, bolt straight in his seat, and blushed.
 
Dave chuckled.

"Coming home used to feel so good,
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood,
I've seen the world at a faster pace,
and I'm coming now from a different place.

Though I may look the same way to you,
Underneath there is somebody new."

Kurt did something then that had everyone on their feet. He climbed up to stand on the piano as he hit the chorus, and the audience gave him a standing ovation.

"I am not,
the boy next door,
I don't belong
like I did before.
Nothing ever seems like it used to be,
you can have your dreams, but you can't have me...
Oh, I can't come back there anymore,
Cuz I am not, the boy next door..."

Kurt had the whole audience captivated. Blaine was amazed. Just when he thought he had Kurt figured out, he pulled out something new to stun Blaine with. Here it was. His voice. His body. The way he controlled the crowd. The way he moved, so comfortable in his own skin. The way he moved his hips...Blaine's mouth dropped. This was Kurt, the fiery black swan, not commanding respect with handcuffs and a riding crop, but with the entirety of his being.

"You've been saving those souvenirs,
faded photographs from our foolish years.
We made plans, but they're wearing thin,
and they don't work out, cuz I don't fit in.
And those memories will just wear you down,
Cuz I got no place to keep 'em uptown..."

"How did he not get onto Sing?" Blaine remarked. Blaine imagined Kurt playing his onscreen boyfriend - the two of them singing to each other, flirting over coffee, standing side by side in the season finale as Blaine asked for his hand in marriage. Blaine took a silent moment to thank whoever had been watching over him his entire life for the numerous opportunities he had been given, because watching Kurt - his kind, beautiful, compassionate Kurt, owning this song and that stage - Blaine realized that Kurt probably deserved all of that more than he did.

"I am not,
the boy next door,
I don't belong
like I did before.
Nothing ever seems like it used to be,
you can have your dreams, but you can't have me...
Oh, I can't come back there anymore,
Cuz I am not, the boy next door..."

The women in the background smiled ridiculously as they tried hard to sing their parts while quite openly watching Kurt dance around the stage and sing. Numerous times, members of the audience rose to their feet to applaud, once in particular during another daunting sustained high note.

Blaine didn't want it to be over. He wanted to watch Kurt sing all night. He wanted to know more about his angel and what he could do. Another part of him couldn't wait to have Kurt in his arms again.

"Nothing ever seems like it used to be,
you can have your dreams, oh! But you can't have me...
I can't go back there anymore,
Cuz I am not...
I am not..."

Kurt approached the edge of the stage, his skin glowing with a slight sheen of sweat, arms thrown wide for the finale, his eyes glued up to the mezzanine as they had been for most of the performance.

"I am not...
The boy next door!"

That impossibly high note hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, with the violins fighting to keep up.

The remaining audience members who weren't already standing leapt to their feet. The din in the auditorium rose around the mezzanine, and Blaine could not stop smiling. He put a hand on Dave's shoulder.

"You should go down there and give him his roses before they make him sing another one," Blaine laughed.

Dave wiped happy tears on his sleeve and nodded. He grabbed the bouquet and turned to leave. He took one last looked back over at Blaine.

"Are you coming?" he asked. Blaine looked up into Dave's eyes. For a moment, Blaine didn't know how to respond.

"Not just yet," Blaine said. "You have to leave soon. I think you guys should get a private moment."

Dave smiled, and nodded his head in thanks, before turning and making his way out of the mezzanine.

"So, you're sharing him?" Sebastian looked evilly amused.

"Don't," Blaine said with confident finality. Blaine knew Kurt's feelings about Dave...and about himself.

'That's because I am yours.'

Kurt had marked Blaine with his lips, and Blaine had marked Kurt with his scent. It was almost animal how the two had become wrapped up in each other. Blaine would fight tooth and nail before he let that go.

Blaine watched as Dave emerged in the lower level of the theater. Kurt saw him from the stage and bounded down the steps, accepting the bouquet of roses, and allowing himself to be drawn into Dave's embrace.

"So, you're going to take on his whole family - that cuckold clown down there and all those kids?"

Sebastian thought he had gotten the upper hand for sure, but Blaine faced him with determined eyes and said, "Yes. Yes, I am."

Blaine leaned forward, pressing in on Sebastian, eyes flashing dangerously.

"And don't ever call Dave that again."