Why do I adore you?

We've only just met

I feel I would do anything for you

But baby, sometimes I forget

That I can't tell you how to live your life

But I know how to live mine

I take home pretty things that I like

And baby, you are so fine

Yeah, I could give you everything you need

With just one touch of my hand...

            Kurt isn’t sure what he’s doing here.  He never goes out alone, and certainly not to random underground boy band concerts in slightly sketchy clubs 50 miles from his home.  But he had made a deal with himself, and he isn’t about to give in.  He won’t leave until someone (preferably a good-looking someone) hits on him.

            He just hasn’t been feeling very desirable lately.  Not that he ever feels desirable, but he’s always at least felt attractive, even if there’s no one in Lima to appreciate it.  But with everyone else coupling off, Kurt just wants to find someone.

            So here he is, alone, in Club whatever its name is, trying to keep calm and hoping some cute boy will notice him.

            He’s been standing by the far wall, across from the bar, for about half an hour.  He watches people dance: boys with boys, boys with girls, girls with girls.  He loves it.  Why can’t all of Ohio be like this?

            He’s so caught up in watching the dance floor that he doesn’t notice when someone sidles up beside him.  He startles when he turns and finds a mop of curly hair.  Under further inspection he finds a face attached to it.  A face with hazel eyes that are looking at him.  A face with a mega-watt smile that seems to take up half the space.  Oh.  A boy is looking and smiling.  At him.

            “Hello,” he says, internally congratulating himself for not freaking out.  The boy laughs.  It sounds like honey.

            “Hey,” he says.  Kurt wishes he could hear him say ‘hey’ for the rest of his life.  “Do you come here often?”

            “Oh, yeah.  I’ve been coming here for ages, can’t you tell?”  Oh, god, he’s flirting.  Kurt Hummel is actually flirting.  With a boy.

            The boy laughs honey again, and Kurt finds himself grinning.

            “I thought I hadn’t seen you here before.  I would’ve noticed.”  He’s still beaming at Kurt, who can feel himself blushing.  He nervously licks his lips and sees Mr. Honey-Laugh’s eyes flicker down to his mouth for a second, and then back up to his eyes.  “I’m Blaine.”

            “Kurt,” he replies, taking Honey Laugh Blaine’s offered hand.  It feels rough under his own perfectly moisturized skin.  Kurt wonders what those hands would feel like in his hair.

            “So are you here to see the band?” Blaine asks, pulling his hand away.  Kurt resists the urge to grab it back.

            “Eh,” Kurt says.  “I’m not really that into boy bands.  I’m more of a Broadway man myself.”  He watches as the wattage dims slightly in Blaine’s smile, and wonders if he just completely blew his chance.

            “Broadway, huh?  Me too,” Blaine says.  Oh, thank goodness, Kurt thinks.  “But this band’s pretty good.  If you want, after the show I can introduce you to them.”

            “We’ll see,” Kurt says, still incredulous that he has a ridiculously attractive guy flirting with him.  “It depends on if they’re any good.”

            “Oh, don’t worry,” Blaine says with a smirk.  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.”

            Kurt’s about to answer with some witty retort when the DJ cuts out and someone takes the stage.

            “Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen!” he says in a haughty, fake British accent.  The drunken crowd eats it up, cackling and cheering.  “Are you ready for our delightful, lovely entertainment?”  The crowd goes wild.  “Please welcome, The Manic Warblers!”

            “I’ll see you later,” Kurt feels more than hears Blaine whisper in his ear.  Kurt turns to ask him where he’s going, only to find him already walking away, towards the stage.  Kurt furrows his eyebrows in confusion.  Why is Blaine going to the stage?  The gears turn and finally click as Blaine gets up there and settles in front of the microphone, slinging a guitar over his shoulders.  Kurt feels his jaw drop.

            “Hey, everyone.  We are The Manic Warblers, and thanks for coming tonight to see us.  We hope you enjoy the show!”  He’s greeted with drunken shouts and cries as the drummer begins to countdown and the band dives into some song Kurt has never heard.

            Kurt can feel himself gaping, but he can’t help it.  He meant it when he said he’d never really been into the boy band thing, but they were good.  He watches Blaine strut around the stage, singing and playing his guitar, dazzling the audience with his presence and his voice.

            Kurt is amazed that this talented, beautiful boy had been talking to him, flirting with him, and from the looks of it, is trying to impress him.  As the band launches into another song, Blaine locks eyes with Kurt and gives him a huge smile.

             “This next song goes out to a very special someone that I met tonight,” Blaine says, his gaze never leaving Kurt’s face.  “As you all know, this is the only place I can really be out, freely, so I’d like to share with all of you my excitement at meeting that beautiful boy over there, Kurt.”

            Kurt blushes and looks around, seeing everyone turn and smile at him, cheering and clapping.  Something swoops low in his stomach at the warmth of their acceptance.  Blaine starts singing, and Kurt scoffs playfully at the song choice, the blush deepening and spreading down his neck.  It’s “I Just Haven’t Met You Yet” by Michael Bublé, and Kurt couldn’t have picked a better song for the occasion himself.  He sways to the beat, laughing when Blaine winks at him while performing.  How did he get so lucky to meet this amazing boy the first time he goes out by himself?  Kurt can’t believe it, and yet, it’s happening.

             When the set is over, the band disappears backstage, and Kurt makes his way over to the bar for another club soda.  Before his drink has even arrived, Blaine is at his side, that blinding smile pasted on his face.

            “Hey there, beautiful,” Blaine says, his grin easing up a bit at the shy way Kurt ducks his head at the compliment.  “Did you enjoy the show?”

            “Mhm,” Kurt hums, smirking at the way Blaine’s eyebrows furrow.  “You guys are really good.  But, really?  The Manic Warblers?  It’s ridiculous.”  Blaine’s honey laugh is back, and Kurt’s ears drink up the sound, locking it away to remember it forever.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll admit that it’s a little silly, but as you can tell, we’re all a bit…energetic.”  Kurt smirks at the word choice.  “And I had a pet warbler as a child…that bird was my best friend.  Hey!  Don’t laugh!  I’m serious!   Besides…you know you loved getting to stare at me for that whole time.”  Blaine winks at Kurt, who’s blushing again, his lips opening and closing slightly with the inability to produce a coherent answer.  Blaine sighs, his expression becoming slightly more serious.

“Sorry that I’m being so…straightforward.  It’s just, this is the only place I really feel comfortable about who I am.  The only place anyone accepts me.  Sometimes I get a little carried away…a little overconfident, is a good way to put it.”  And the smile is back, so bright it rivals the sun.

            “Trust me, it’s fine,” Kurt breathes out, giggling when Blaine puts his arm around him.  “I must admit that your confidence is bordering on overbearing, but it’s endearing, to say the least.”  He scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out at Blaine, who has a look of false shock on his face.

            “Why, Kurt, how dare you mock me like that?  I think you just might have to dance with me to make it up.  What do you say?  A little dance to soothe my wounded ego?”

            Kurt blushes and leans into Blaine’s side a little.  He can’t help the tingling joy that resonates low in his stomach at the fact that this boy, this beautiful, flirty, sweet boy wants to talk to him, wants to dance with him, wants to know him.

            He ducks out from underneath Blaine’s arm and laces his hands in Blaine’s, pulling him away from the bar and onto the dance floor.  Blaine’s hands disentangle from Kurt’s and settle on his hips as they begin twirling around the little space they have on the dance floor.

            “Why, Mr. Warbler, I thought you’d never ask.”