1. merlinsgeekyfan Kurt/Blaine fill
“I can’t believe you guys talked me into this. Karaoke bars are stupid.” Kurt leaned back as far as he could into the booth, and pushed away the small glass Santana had slid over to him. She shrugged and took it back, downing it herself. Mercedes grimaced slightly, noting the slowly growing collection of little empty cups next to Santana’s arm.
“What? I thought you’d like this kind of thing. There’s booze, and boys, and singing!” Kurt rolled his eyes, looking pointedly at the five empty shotglasses sitting on the table.
“Definitely booze. But no boys, only girls have gone up to sing. And they were all drunk off their asses, I don’t think those horrid screechings qualified as singing.” Mercedes smiled a little, even as a twenty year old, Kurt still had all the attitude of his high school self.
“Well, maybe, if you got up and sang, and showed them how it was done, you could meet somebody.” Kurt looked looked at Santana incredulously. He sure hoped it was the alcohol talking, because nowhere in the scheme of reality did anyone ever fall for someone because they saw them sing at a karaoke bar.
“Santana, sweetie,” Mercedes put down her hand as she flung it in the air, motioning to the waiter for another drink. “I think you’ve had enough,” Santana glared at her, so she quickly added, “For now! You can’t sing when you’re completely drunk.” Santana gave her a raised eyebrow look.
“Oh yeah I totally could. But I think it’s Kurt’s turn for a little something something,” Kurt slammed her hand back down onto the table before she could raise it again.
“I am not drinking a damn thing Santana. You know full well I’m not legal yet, and what about my stamp? We’ll get kicked out. Or jailed.” Santana rolled her eyes.”
“You’re birthday is in like, three months. Close enough.”
“But not close enough for the law!” A few people at tables nearby looked over as they heard Kurt’s raised voice. Kurt tried his best to ignore them, but some guys at the table next to them began laughing after one guy said,
“Looks like somebody over there is PMSing. And I don’t mean the chick.” Santana and Mercedes seemed to not have heard, being on the other side of the booth from him, and not the side close to the other table. But he definitely heard, unable to keep his spine from tensing, and his hands from curling into fists. He got stuff like that still, but not nearly as often, since New York was pretty accepting. He tried not to let it get to him, but he felt a familiar cloud of rage and frustration cloud his thoughts.
…
“Hey guys, that’s not okay. Maybe he’s just having a bad day. Doesn’t mean he’s gay.” A curly haired boy looked over at the boy for the first time, and seeing his perfect hair, designer clothes, and expensive shoes, as well as noting the effeminate tone of his voice, rethought his last statement. But still. His friend who had started the joke looked apologetically at him.
“I didn’t mean it like that Blaine. I just meant he was freaking out majorly. Didn’t mean that he was gay, or like a girl or something.” Blaine sighed, understanding, and upset that he had overreacted. He was just still so sensitive sometimes.
“I think he heard you.” Blaine could see the way the boy’s body was quaking almost indiscernibly, as if with suppressed anger and the need to lash out. Blaine’s friend cast a glance back at the boy, and shrugged. ”It was just a joke. He’ll get over it.” But Blaine couldn’t let it go. He could tell the boy had probably dealt with this kind of thing before, but wasn’t able to retaliate here, in a bar. So he was keeping it inside. But Blaine could tell he was hurting.
…
“Are you okay Kurt?” For some reason, the sound of Santana’s voice only angered him more. He couldn’t help feeling it was her fault, for making him yell.
“I’m fine Santana!” He screamed, slamming his hand down on the table, causing the silverware to clatter, and one of her shotglasses to tumble down to the floor, shattering instantly into a small pile of glittering shards. Mercedes and Santana could only stare at him. After a moment, Kurt realized what he had done, and covered his mouth in horror.
“Oh my God. I am so sorry. Santana, you didn’t deserve that. At all. I-I’ll just…” Kurt slipped out of his seat, and began to collect up the pieces, not even noticing where they stuck into his hand and left small cuts in the soft flesh of his palm. Kurt couldn’t bear to look around him, knowing he had only attracted more attention to himself. He didn’t even notice how hard his hands were shaking until all the glass in his hand was on the floor again. He sighed, and restarted, only to drop it all again when an unfamiliar pair of hands brushed by his own.
“Let me help.” A warm voice told him. A voice that was very nice, and smooth, and male. Kurt nodded, refusing to look up until all the glass had been collected, and placed in a neat pile on the table. He stood up along with the stranger, and got a good look at him. He was a little shorter than Kurt, but more than made up for it in muscle, his biceps flexing beneath his tight black shirt as he shook Kurt’s hand. Kurt smiled as he noted the boy was a lefty. That was kind of cute.
“My name’s Blaine.” Kurt nodded, unable to speak. His name was Blaine? That was even cuter. Kurt’s eyes ventured upward, and he took in the sight of Blaine’s face, amazing bone structure, perfectly pink lips, golden eyes. And his eyebrows were slightly triangular. That was the cutest of all. Kurt found his voice, and cursed himself as it came out breathy.
“I’m Kurt,” Blaine’s eyes flicked down to Kurt’s hands, and he took them in his own. Kurt’s face was on fire as Blaine caressed them like they were wounded baby birds.
“You are hurt! Your hands are bleeding! Here, lets get you cleaned up.” Kurt’s head was too busy spinning for him to correct Blaine on what he had said. His hands were now clasped inside of Blaine’s and he had no complaints. None.
…
“Cold water.” Blaine turned on the tap and warned Kurt. Kurt frowned as he saw the water turn pink with his blood. Blaine also washed his hands, whistling as he did so. Kurt hadn’t seen Blaine get hurt at all, and felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized the blood was his own, from when he shook Blaine’s hand.
“I’m so sorry.” Blaine shrugged.
“It’s just blood. No big deal” But it was, to Kurt. “By the way, I’m sorry about what my friend said. He really didn’t mean it. He doesn’t think about what he says too much when he’s drinking. Really he’s a great guy, and he wasn’t trying to insult you at all.” Kurt nodded, hating that this was happening to him. He had embarrassed himself in front of the hottest guy ever, and even though there was no way he was gay, he had still ruined his first impression.
“I get it. I’m still really sorry. You really didn’t have to do this.” Blaine caught his eye in the mirror.
“What? And pass up the chance to talk to you?” Kurt blushed.
“Why would you want to talk to me?” It was Blaine’s turn to blush, the pink tinge faint beneath his darker toned skin.
“Because you seemed interesting. I was wondering what a guy like you would be doing at a karaoke bar.” Kurt broke their eye contact, and stared down at his hands.
“And what do you mean by a guy like me? A gay guy?” Blaine laughed softly.
“No. I meant a guy who seems so put together, and like he has a life, and isn’t insane.” Kurt giggled.
“My friends dragged me along, because their other friend was sick. Being the honorary gay means being the honorary girlfriend substitute.” Blaine nodded.
“I see. In my circle of friends, we’re pretty much mishmash. I don’t have too many girl friends, since, according to everybody, I’m basically a straight guy who likes boys.” Kurt’s head whipped around to look at him.
“Y-you’re gay?” Blaine smiled and nodded.
“Grade A. And now that we’ve established that we are both gay, I hope you don’t mind me saying that I think you’re really cute… Kurt.” Kurt looked at him wide eyed.
“So you heard me right back there then?” Blaine’s expression grew adorably mischievous.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you..?” Blaine turned off the tap and gave Kurt a few paper towels to dry off his hands, retrieving a first aid kit that the bar so luckily provided from a cabinet under the sink.
“I’ll bandage them for you.” Blaine assured the boy, peeling and sticking Band-Aids over each cut.
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why did you pretend to hear me incorrectly?” Blaine shrugged, before taking a couple of steps into Kurt’s personal space. Kurt backed up, until he was leaning against the sink.
“So I could so this,” Blaine interlaced his hand with Kurt’s right hand, since it didn’t have too many Band-Aids on it. Blaine leaned in closer, so their hands were pressed between their chests. He slid his other hand to cup the back of Kurt’s neck, bringing their faces together so their noses touched. He whispered softly onto Kurt’s mouth.
“And so that I could do this.” Closing the small gap between their lips, Blaine kissed Kurt, slowly, briefly, chastely, and amazingly. Kurt’s eyes had barely slipped closed, and then it was over.
“I-I… wow Blaine.” Blaine stepped back a little and grinned.
“Um yeah…” Blaine blushed furiously, looking down at his shoes.
“Maybe we should leave before people start to wonder where we are.” Blaine nodded, trying to mask his disappointment at not getting another kiss. Kurt seemed to have enjoyed the first one. He held the door open, and followed as Kurt scampered off and rejoined Mercedes and Santana at the table. He slid into the booth, and seemed surprised to see Blaine had trailed after him.
“Kurt? I’m dedicating it to you okay? It’s for you.” Blaine lifted Kurt’s hand to his lips, and pressed his mouth to Kurt’s hand. Kurt nodded, absolutely confused, but also grinning like an idiot. As Blaine walked away, he turned to look at Mercedes and Santana.
“What was that?” Santana’s question was demanding of an answer.
“Who was that? That was the guy that helped you clean up right?” Mercedes asked.
“I don’t know what that was, and… Blaine.” Kurt sighed on his name. Mercedes smiled knowingly.
“What happened!” Santana interrupted Kurt before he had the chance to speak.
“You got some didn’t you? You were in there for like, fifteen minutes.” Kurt blushed and shook his head.
“He kissed me.” Santana grinned, and Mercedes squealed.
“Oh my god! That’s ama…” Mercedes was cut off as the sound of Blaine’s voice was heard throughout the building, as he spoke into the microphone.
“I hope you don’t mind me changing the lyrics a bit since I’ve decided to dedicate this song to someone. A very special person. We don’t know each other too well, but I hope we can soon. This one’s for you. You know who you are.” Santana and Mercedes both turned to look at him as the intro to Maroon 5’s song, I Won’t Go Home Without You played.
I asked him to stay but he wouldn't listen
He left before I had the chance to say
The words that would mend the things that were broken
But now it's far too late, he's gone away
As Blaine’s voice poured from the speakers, Kurt felt himself begin to smile. Blaine sang beautifully. He was in awe, but not surprised. It was only fitting. He was damn near perfect after all.
Every night you cry yourself to sleep
Thinking why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?
Hard to believe that
Kurt’s face fell slightly as the words hit home for him. He of course didn’t cry himself to sleep. Not every night at least. But ever since his difficult break up with Sam after their huge fight, he hadn’t been sleeping too well. Santana and Mercedes had thought he was moping about a little too much for his own good, and he was now sort of glad they had made him come. Of course, it didn’t have to do anything with them. It had to with the beautiful boy singing him a song.
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
Even though those were the lyrics to the song, Kurt couldn’t help but feel that Blaine meant them. He saw Blaine grip the microphone as his chin lifted slightly, his eyes on Kurt, and nothing else.
The taste of your breath, I'll never get over
The noises that he made kept me awake
The weight of things that remained unspoken
Built up so much it crushed us everyday
Every night you cry yourself to sleep
Thinking why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?
Hard to believe that
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
Blaine’s eyes never ventured back to look at the lyrics. He knew the whole song by heart. And he never took his eyes off Kurt. As the emotion built in the song, the people in the room followed his gaze, and all of them turned to look at Kurt, who was smiling so hard it hurt, his eyes glittering with tears of happiness.
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
…
The clapping at first was tentative, led by Mercedes and Santana. But then the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Blaine put down the microphone and made his way down the floor, grinning as he neared Kurt. When everyone saw the two of them together, the room grew silent.
“Hi.” Blaine began, smiling as Kurt giggled.
“Hello yourself. Thank you Blaine, that was really sweet… although I’m not sure what you meant by it.” Blaine took Kurt’s hands in his own, for the umpteenth time that night.
“I meant every word.” Kurt blushed, looking away, only to be met by the urging gaze of his friends.
“Wait, but…”
“As long as it’s okay with you’re friends of course. And you. I won’t go home without you.” Kurt looked at Blaine with eyes wide with surprised happiness.
“What? Really? You want me to…”
“I don’t mean it like that. I just thought we could maybe get out of here, go out somewhere. I want to get to know you.” Kurt nodded.
“Okay.” Blaine smiled, and in full view of the entire bar, leaned down and kissed Kurt once more. It only lasted a second, but it elicited a huge uproar of cheers and clapping as the two of them interlaced their hands, and walked out of the bar. Blaine smiled, hearing his friends encouraging support, and stifled a laugh as he heard Santana’s cry.
“Betcha don’t think karaoke bars are stupid now huh Kurt! I told you! I told you so!”
I hope you like it! I've never been to a karaoke bar, so sorry if I fail.
“What? I thought you’d like this kind of thing. There’s booze, and boys, and singing!” Kurt rolled his eyes, looking pointedly at the five empty shotglasses sitting on the table.
“Definitely booze. But no boys, only girls have gone up to sing. And they were all drunk off their asses, I don’t think those horrid screechings qualified as singing.” Mercedes smiled a little, even as a twenty year old, Kurt still had all the attitude of his high school self.
“Well, maybe, if you got up and sang, and showed them how it was done, you could meet somebody.” Kurt looked looked at Santana incredulously. He sure hoped it was the alcohol talking, because nowhere in the scheme of reality did anyone ever fall for someone because they saw them sing at a karaoke bar.
“Santana, sweetie,” Mercedes put down her hand as she flung it in the air, motioning to the waiter for another drink. “I think you’ve had enough,” Santana glared at her, so she quickly added, “For now! You can’t sing when you’re completely drunk.” Santana gave her a raised eyebrow look.
“Oh yeah I totally could. But I think it’s Kurt’s turn for a little something something,” Kurt slammed her hand back down onto the table before she could raise it again.
“I am not drinking a damn thing Santana. You know full well I’m not legal yet, and what about my stamp? We’ll get kicked out. Or jailed.” Santana rolled her eyes.”
“You’re birthday is in like, three months. Close enough.”
“But not close enough for the law!” A few people at tables nearby looked over as they heard Kurt’s raised voice. Kurt tried his best to ignore them, but some guys at the table next to them began laughing after one guy said,
“Looks like somebody over there is PMSing. And I don’t mean the chick.” Santana and Mercedes seemed to not have heard, being on the other side of the booth from him, and not the side close to the other table. But he definitely heard, unable to keep his spine from tensing, and his hands from curling into fists. He got stuff like that still, but not nearly as often, since New York was pretty accepting. He tried not to let it get to him, but he felt a familiar cloud of rage and frustration cloud his thoughts.
…
“Hey guys, that’s not okay. Maybe he’s just having a bad day. Doesn’t mean he’s gay.” A curly haired boy looked over at the boy for the first time, and seeing his perfect hair, designer clothes, and expensive shoes, as well as noting the effeminate tone of his voice, rethought his last statement. But still. His friend who had started the joke looked apologetically at him.
“I didn’t mean it like that Blaine. I just meant he was freaking out majorly. Didn’t mean that he was gay, or like a girl or something.” Blaine sighed, understanding, and upset that he had overreacted. He was just still so sensitive sometimes.
“I think he heard you.” Blaine could see the way the boy’s body was quaking almost indiscernibly, as if with suppressed anger and the need to lash out. Blaine’s friend cast a glance back at the boy, and shrugged. ”It was just a joke. He’ll get over it.” But Blaine couldn’t let it go. He could tell the boy had probably dealt with this kind of thing before, but wasn’t able to retaliate here, in a bar. So he was keeping it inside. But Blaine could tell he was hurting.
…
“Are you okay Kurt?” For some reason, the sound of Santana’s voice only angered him more. He couldn’t help feeling it was her fault, for making him yell.
“I’m fine Santana!” He screamed, slamming his hand down on the table, causing the silverware to clatter, and one of her shotglasses to tumble down to the floor, shattering instantly into a small pile of glittering shards. Mercedes and Santana could only stare at him. After a moment, Kurt realized what he had done, and covered his mouth in horror.
“Oh my God. I am so sorry. Santana, you didn’t deserve that. At all. I-I’ll just…” Kurt slipped out of his seat, and began to collect up the pieces, not even noticing where they stuck into his hand and left small cuts in the soft flesh of his palm. Kurt couldn’t bear to look around him, knowing he had only attracted more attention to himself. He didn’t even notice how hard his hands were shaking until all the glass in his hand was on the floor again. He sighed, and restarted, only to drop it all again when an unfamiliar pair of hands brushed by his own.
“Let me help.” A warm voice told him. A voice that was very nice, and smooth, and male. Kurt nodded, refusing to look up until all the glass had been collected, and placed in a neat pile on the table. He stood up along with the stranger, and got a good look at him. He was a little shorter than Kurt, but more than made up for it in muscle, his biceps flexing beneath his tight black shirt as he shook Kurt’s hand. Kurt smiled as he noted the boy was a lefty. That was kind of cute.
“My name’s Blaine.” Kurt nodded, unable to speak. His name was Blaine? That was even cuter. Kurt’s eyes ventured upward, and he took in the sight of Blaine’s face, amazing bone structure, perfectly pink lips, golden eyes. And his eyebrows were slightly triangular. That was the cutest of all. Kurt found his voice, and cursed himself as it came out breathy.
“I’m Kurt,” Blaine’s eyes flicked down to Kurt’s hands, and he took them in his own. Kurt’s face was on fire as Blaine caressed them like they were wounded baby birds.
“You are hurt! Your hands are bleeding! Here, lets get you cleaned up.” Kurt’s head was too busy spinning for him to correct Blaine on what he had said. His hands were now clasped inside of Blaine’s and he had no complaints. None.
…
“Cold water.” Blaine turned on the tap and warned Kurt. Kurt frowned as he saw the water turn pink with his blood. Blaine also washed his hands, whistling as he did so. Kurt hadn’t seen Blaine get hurt at all, and felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized the blood was his own, from when he shook Blaine’s hand.
“I’m so sorry.” Blaine shrugged.
“It’s just blood. No big deal” But it was, to Kurt. “By the way, I’m sorry about what my friend said. He really didn’t mean it. He doesn’t think about what he says too much when he’s drinking. Really he’s a great guy, and he wasn’t trying to insult you at all.” Kurt nodded, hating that this was happening to him. He had embarrassed himself in front of the hottest guy ever, and even though there was no way he was gay, he had still ruined his first impression.
“I get it. I’m still really sorry. You really didn’t have to do this.” Blaine caught his eye in the mirror.
“What? And pass up the chance to talk to you?” Kurt blushed.
“Why would you want to talk to me?” It was Blaine’s turn to blush, the pink tinge faint beneath his darker toned skin.
“Because you seemed interesting. I was wondering what a guy like you would be doing at a karaoke bar.” Kurt broke their eye contact, and stared down at his hands.
“And what do you mean by a guy like me? A gay guy?” Blaine laughed softly.
“No. I meant a guy who seems so put together, and like he has a life, and isn’t insane.” Kurt giggled.
“My friends dragged me along, because their other friend was sick. Being the honorary gay means being the honorary girlfriend substitute.” Blaine nodded.
“I see. In my circle of friends, we’re pretty much mishmash. I don’t have too many girl friends, since, according to everybody, I’m basically a straight guy who likes boys.” Kurt’s head whipped around to look at him.
“Y-you’re gay?” Blaine smiled and nodded.
“Grade A. And now that we’ve established that we are both gay, I hope you don’t mind me saying that I think you’re really cute… Kurt.” Kurt looked at him wide eyed.
“So you heard me right back there then?” Blaine’s expression grew adorably mischievous.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you..?” Blaine turned off the tap and gave Kurt a few paper towels to dry off his hands, retrieving a first aid kit that the bar so luckily provided from a cabinet under the sink.
“I’ll bandage them for you.” Blaine assured the boy, peeling and sticking Band-Aids over each cut.
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why did you pretend to hear me incorrectly?” Blaine shrugged, before taking a couple of steps into Kurt’s personal space. Kurt backed up, until he was leaning against the sink.
“So I could so this,” Blaine interlaced his hand with Kurt’s right hand, since it didn’t have too many Band-Aids on it. Blaine leaned in closer, so their hands were pressed between their chests. He slid his other hand to cup the back of Kurt’s neck, bringing their faces together so their noses touched. He whispered softly onto Kurt’s mouth.
“And so that I could do this.” Closing the small gap between their lips, Blaine kissed Kurt, slowly, briefly, chastely, and amazingly. Kurt’s eyes had barely slipped closed, and then it was over.
“I-I… wow Blaine.” Blaine stepped back a little and grinned.
“Um yeah…” Blaine blushed furiously, looking down at his shoes.
“Maybe we should leave before people start to wonder where we are.” Blaine nodded, trying to mask his disappointment at not getting another kiss. Kurt seemed to have enjoyed the first one. He held the door open, and followed as Kurt scampered off and rejoined Mercedes and Santana at the table. He slid into the booth, and seemed surprised to see Blaine had trailed after him.
“Kurt? I’m dedicating it to you okay? It’s for you.” Blaine lifted Kurt’s hand to his lips, and pressed his mouth to Kurt’s hand. Kurt nodded, absolutely confused, but also grinning like an idiot. As Blaine walked away, he turned to look at Mercedes and Santana.
“What was that?” Santana’s question was demanding of an answer.
“Who was that? That was the guy that helped you clean up right?” Mercedes asked.
“I don’t know what that was, and… Blaine.” Kurt sighed on his name. Mercedes smiled knowingly.
“What happened!” Santana interrupted Kurt before he had the chance to speak.
“You got some didn’t you? You were in there for like, fifteen minutes.” Kurt blushed and shook his head.
“He kissed me.” Santana grinned, and Mercedes squealed.
“Oh my god! That’s ama…” Mercedes was cut off as the sound of Blaine’s voice was heard throughout the building, as he spoke into the microphone.
“I hope you don’t mind me changing the lyrics a bit since I’ve decided to dedicate this song to someone. A very special person. We don’t know each other too well, but I hope we can soon. This one’s for you. You know who you are.” Santana and Mercedes both turned to look at him as the intro to Maroon 5’s song, I Won’t Go Home Without You played.
I asked him to stay but he wouldn't listen
He left before I had the chance to say
The words that would mend the things that were broken
But now it's far too late, he's gone away
As Blaine’s voice poured from the speakers, Kurt felt himself begin to smile. Blaine sang beautifully. He was in awe, but not surprised. It was only fitting. He was damn near perfect after all.
Every night you cry yourself to sleep
Thinking why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?
Hard to believe that
Kurt’s face fell slightly as the words hit home for him. He of course didn’t cry himself to sleep. Not every night at least. But ever since his difficult break up with Sam after their huge fight, he hadn’t been sleeping too well. Santana and Mercedes had thought he was moping about a little too much for his own good, and he was now sort of glad they had made him come. Of course, it didn’t have to do anything with them. It had to with the beautiful boy singing him a song.
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
Even though those were the lyrics to the song, Kurt couldn’t help but feel that Blaine meant them. He saw Blaine grip the microphone as his chin lifted slightly, his eyes on Kurt, and nothing else.
The taste of your breath, I'll never get over
The noises that he made kept me awake
The weight of things that remained unspoken
Built up so much it crushed us everyday
Every night you cry yourself to sleep
Thinking why does this happen to me?
Why does every moment have to be so hard?
Hard to believe that
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
Blaine’s eyes never ventured back to look at the lyrics. He knew the whole song by heart. And he never took his eyes off Kurt. As the emotion built in the song, the people in the room followed his gaze, and all of them turned to look at Kurt, who was smiling so hard it hurt, his eyes glittering with tears of happiness.
It's not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
And I won't go home without you
…
The clapping at first was tentative, led by Mercedes and Santana. But then the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Blaine put down the microphone and made his way down the floor, grinning as he neared Kurt. When everyone saw the two of them together, the room grew silent.
“Hi.” Blaine began, smiling as Kurt giggled.
“Hello yourself. Thank you Blaine, that was really sweet… although I’m not sure what you meant by it.” Blaine took Kurt’s hands in his own, for the umpteenth time that night.
“I meant every word.” Kurt blushed, looking away, only to be met by the urging gaze of his friends.
“Wait, but…”
“As long as it’s okay with you’re friends of course. And you. I won’t go home without you.” Kurt looked at Blaine with eyes wide with surprised happiness.
“What? Really? You want me to…”
“I don’t mean it like that. I just thought we could maybe get out of here, go out somewhere. I want to get to know you.” Kurt nodded.
“Okay.” Blaine smiled, and in full view of the entire bar, leaned down and kissed Kurt once more. It only lasted a second, but it elicited a huge uproar of cheers and clapping as the two of them interlaced their hands, and walked out of the bar. Blaine smiled, hearing his friends encouraging support, and stifled a laugh as he heard Santana’s cry.
“Betcha don’t think karaoke bars are stupid now huh Kurt! I told you! I told you so!”
I hope you like it! I've never been to a karaoke bar, so sorry if I fail.