Blaine fidgets in the middle of the dance floor, fixing his mask to make sure it’s secured to his face. He looks around; waiting, searching for a boy in a blue scarf. This was a stupid idea, he thinks. As soon as scarfboy13 realizes who he is, how much of a loser he really is, he is going to turn around and leave. He is going to be left alone, again. Just like years ago on that horrid night when – no, Blaine chastises himself, now is not the time to lament things that should be left in the past.

He is just about to turn around and make a dash for the parking lot when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns, breath leaving his lungs when his eyes land on the most beautiful face he has ever seen.

Granted, he can’t really see his whole face, but if the gorgeous ocean eyes that shine through the dark black and silver mask and the ruby red lips that stretch across the possibly most perfect, genuine smile are any indication, then this boy is positively stunning. He takes a step forward, urging the words that are running through his mind to roll off his tongue, but before he can the boy speaks, voice soft and clear as daylight.

“Bowtiewonder57?”

“I – yeah,” Blaine answers breathlessly, quickly adding without a second though, “God, you’re gorgeous.” He snaps his mouth shut, surprise coursing through him at his forwardness, but he has to smile when he sees the faint color tinging the other boy’s cheeks just under the feathers of his mask.

Scarfboy giggles, (giggles!), ducking his head slightly and bringing his other hand to rest on Blaine’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he returns with a smile. “Care to dance?”

The night progresses and Blaine can’t believe what a good time he’s had. Bitter memories of past dances with deceiving boys forgotten, he has actually let himself have fun. They now find themselves on the outskirts of the school building, sitting on swing sets meant for toddlers but they don’t care. Their conversation and laughter has led them to feel careless and carefree, like children without a care in the world would.

“Your bow tie is really nice, by the way,” the boy says and Blaine blushes for the hundredth time tonight, probably.

“Thank you. I really like your scarf, it matches your eyes,” he answers with a shy smile, making the other boy blush too.

“Ever since you told me you like bow ties I’ve been looking for anyone that wears them but no such luck.”

“Yeah, I don’t really wear them at school,” Blaine admits, face becoming serious and solemn. “They never did bring me good luck when I did.”

Scarfboy’s face softens in understanding, his warm hand coming to caress Blaine’s cheek. It’s the first physical contact they have had all night (other than hand-to-shoulder and hand-to-hand when dancing) and Blaine feels as if the universe has disappeared all around him. All he can feel are this wonderful boy’s fingers stroking his cheek and his hot breath blowing over his face as he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” And wait, when did he get this close? But, who cares? His lips are just centimeters away from Blaine’s and Blaine can feel the soft skin of the boy’s hand cupping the back of his head and he leans in to it, reveling in the intimate caress. He closes his eyes, lips tingling in anticipation, when suddenly everything collapses.

The boy’s warmth pulls away and before he opens his eyes he can hear distant chatter and someone yells, “Hey, Karofsky! Are you out here man?” He sighs, resignation drowning him.

“I think I should go,” the boy’s voice is no longer light and happy, but worried and scared. “You should too.”

Before he has a chance to answer the boy is running back into the building, leaving Blaine wondering of what could have been.