I originally wrote this a year ago and had posted it to Livejournal but not here. This came to me after seeing the Britney/Brittany episode and was inspired by the Santana/Brittany duet scene. If you've read this on LJ, it's changed a bit so I urge you to read it again!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, no infringement was intended and I'm getting no money from this.

The bass of the music blaring from the surround-sound speakers thrummed in Kurt's veins as he seductively descended the stairs. He watched with little interest as the tangle of bodies in the middle of the dance floor undulated with the beat as one. Once on the dance floor, he skirted around the edge, feeding off the energy of the crowd without succumbing to it. A few hands reached out, brushing his arm in hopes to catch his eye but merely ignored them as he continued through the room.

Most of the attention was on the pair in the middle of the mass, the two women standing out from the crowd, Santana in pure white and Brittany in pearl blue and jet black. Their dancing set them apart, but their intensity drew the crowd in. In fact, since they started coming regularly attendance had doubled. Kurt tried to offer them payment but the women shrugged it off. They were there to dance and to hang out with their friends. Their effect on Kurt's business meant little to them.

Speaking of friends, Kurt smiled in the direction of the permanently reserved pair of booths near the bar as he passed by. Rachel and Finn sat cuddled in one, oblivious to most as they stared into each other's eyes, a display that made Kurt simultaneously jealous and slightly nauseous. Sharing it with was Sam and Mercedes in an equally cute display of affection, though the sight didn't upset Kurt's stomach as much. It wasn't that he hated they were happy, he just hated the happiness seemed to pass him by.

In the booth next to them sat Tina and Mike, Artie and Puck. It was rare that Puck joined them anymore as he and Finn had had a falling out over a rather zealous born-again Christian woman before she found her way back to the cross. The two men no longer spoke or acknowledged each other's presence but managed to keep it civil when the group came together, yet Kurt found the situation highly juvenile. And kind of ironic now that the woman, Quinn Fabray, stood outside with around a dozen others protesting his club and its message of sexual freedom, and by extension the two men whose friendship she altered with her presence.

As Kurt drew up to the bar the song changed to another upbeat song. There were never any breaks from the onslaught of fast-paced music, never any ballads so there was never any chance for romance to bloom in his club. He recognized it as a remix of his favorite Adam Lambert song. His gaze darted over to where the DJ stood and Matt gave him a thumbs up. They were sort of like a family, his friends and employees, and he knew they wanted to see him during club hours more.

The bartender, Rory, shot Kurt a sexy smirk as the shorter man sidled up to the bar. Without a word the man, who looked like he was too young to work at a bar, threw together Kurt's favorite drink and slid it across the polished wood surface. Kurt brushed the other man's arm in thanks before hopping up onto the bar, crossing his legs encased in his well-tailored red designer jeans and taking a sip of the drink. Kurt surveyed the room slowly, making sure nothing went wrong and checking out his clientele. He barely ever came down during club hours, preferring the mystery his constant absence provided. But as he had sat in his private room above the floor something told him tonight was a good night to join the throng.

As the club-owner's eyes swept over a darker corner of the club, he caught sight of a man he didn't recognize and as though sensing his gaze, looked over to catch him looking. Kurt felt a jolt as their eyes connected. With a small smirk, Kurt slowly wrapped his lips around the straw once more, taking a slow swallow while maintaining perfect eye contact. The dark-haired man licked his lips and Kurt's smirk grew wider. This, this slight tease before a dance and leaving them wanting more, this Kurt knew how to do. Still keeping their gazes locked, Kurt slid off the bar and stalked across the room, swinging his hips just so. If he bothered care he would have noticed half the club watching his trek, one particular gaze dark with envy.

Keeping his smirk just this side of smug, Kurt held out his hand. He ignored the spark as the other man took it and simply pulled him close, their bodies touching almost completely from chest to toes. They stared at each other for a long moment, Kurt willing himself not to get lost in the haze-eyed gaze. Instead he leaned in, lips almost close enough to touch the other man's ear as he spoke.

"I'm Kurt," he said just loud enough to be heard over the music. He licked his lips, letting his tongue just barely graze the shell of it. He felt the shudder run through both their bodies.

"Blaine," the stranger said in a husky whisper. They pulled away just enough so they could look at each other once more. Kurt opened his mouth to invite Blaine to dance when the dark-haired jerked away suddenly, his warm hand ripped from the club owner's grip.

Confused, Kurt watched as a man with longer red-blonde hair pulled Blaine to him, his blue eyes blazing as he wrapped an arm around the shorter man's waist. "Stay away from my boyfriend," he shouted, louder than necessary to be heard over the music. Kurt raised an impeccably groomed eyebrow as he slid his gaze over to Blaine, who looked embarrassed, uncomfortable and apologetic. He also looked as though he was struggling a bit against the older man's arm but Kurt wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to get away or because he felt guilty about being caught.

Something like disappointment flooded through his body but Kurt simply shrugged. "Your loss," he said before turning around and walking away. Part of him felt like his heart was breaking, which was ridiculous because he knew nothing about Blaine, had barely spent five minutes with him. Blaine had been a chance for just another hookup, nothing more, nothing less. Yet the small part of him he had done his best to ignore the past five years whispered that there was something different about Blaine. Something that made him instinctively want to trust him, to love him.

No, this is how it begins. This is how it began and he promised himself he would never let anything like that happen again. He would never let himself get hurt again. Not after Dave.

Hopping back onto the bar, his drink cold and full once more, Kurt resumed his perusal of the dance floor. Some of their group joined Santana and Brittany on the dance floor and he caught eyes with Mercedes, who gave him a look that said she had seen the whole exchange and knew what he was thinking. He shook his head at her and continued moving his gaze, sipping his drink a bit more regularly than before.

If his gaze lingered at the spot where Blaine and his boyfriend stood arguing, he told himself it was because he wanted to make sure trouble didn't start. But when the blonde man leaned in to kiss Blaine, something shattered inside Kurt and he quickly looked away. Tears threatened to sting Kurt's eyes which, really, how stupid was he being right now? He didn't even know the guy's last name. Sliding off the bar once more, this time with a little less finesse, Kurt threw back the rest of his drink, slammed the glass on the table and marched off to hole himself up in his office above the club, ignoring the gazes boring into his back.

This was why he stopped coming down here and this was why he never would come down here again.

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