A New Dawn

Author's Note: Hello there! I know that it's a little late, but here's some NewYear'sEve!Klaine. :) This is dedicated to my best friend, AngelisIgniRelucent. xx

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or nothin'.

Kurt absently sipped his diet Coke as he watched the shenanigans his friends were getting up to. Mercedes and Tina hadn't stopped dancing for the past four songs, Santana alternated between staring longingly at Brittany—who was dancing with everyone—and pressing close to Puck. Santana's clinging was causing drama between the mohawked man and Lauren Zizes, who was trying to solve the problem by either smacking Puck across the back of the head or insulting Santana.

Those people were the only ones that Kurt could see from his vantage point of lounging against the wall in the corner of the room. He had started off near the door, but too many people had run into him and he really didn't want anyone to spill their drinks on his clothes. So, he was standing in an inconspicuous place. The lampshade beside him was his new best friend.

All of a sudden, his space was invaded by a looming figure. Kurt looked up in alarm before he recognized who it was. "Hey, little brother," Finn said, leaning against the wall beside him. He knocked over the lampshade, but Kurt didn't even feel bad.

"Hey, Finn," he replied. They only had to raise their voices a little to be heard, since a slower song was playing. Kurt had stopped correcting Finn about their age—"I'm older than you by two months, Hudson"—after a while because he actually found it quite endearing. "Where's Rachel?"

Kurt and Finn were usually the designated drives in their group. They would seek each other out for intelligent conversation when things got too crazy. "Oh, yeah, she's in the bathroom with Quinn and Sugar. I really don't want to know what kind of a talk they're having," Finn frowned. He didn't understand girls. The tall boy turned to his step-brother and put a long arm over his bony shoulders, "How're you doing, Kurt? This is our senior year…you should be having fun."

Kurt sipped his caffeinated beverage and shrugged. "I am having fun," he said, "That lampshade provides stimulating conversation."

Finn had his confused face on. "Um…what?"

"Never mind."

The taller boy shook Kurt a little by his shoulder. "Come on, man. I'm serious. I know things have been tough for you, but this is the end of your crappy year and the start of a new one. You should let loose and have fun!"

"I'm not going to drink; I have to drive people home," Kurt said, laughing a little at Sam and Brittany stripping, to the cheers of people around them.

"I didn't say you had to drink," Finn stated, "I just mean that you should get out of this corner and dance or something. Enjoy yourself. It's New Year's Eve."

Kurt shrugged. "It's just another night," he said, "I'll wake up tomorrow just like I woke up yesterday. Nothing's going to change." Finn grimaced at him and Kurt looked down before muttering, "And, what's the point of coming to a New Year's party if you're not drinking, your friends don't want to spend time with you, you're probably not going to get into the school of your dreams…and you're not going to get kissed tonight. Probably not going to get kissed until you're twenty five…and that's being optimistic."

"Kurt…" Finn began, but he was cut off by the arrival of his very loud girlfriend. Rachel ran up and latched onto his arm.

"Finn! Finn, you have to dance with me. I love this song. I love you. And we have to show Quinn that we're gonna be together forever!" She seemed to notice the pale boy beside her boyfriend. "Oh, hey Kurt," she said absently, "Now, come on, Finn!"

Kurt pursed his lips. "Go ahead," he said to his step-brother. Finn hesitated, then pulled the smaller boy in for a hug. He was then dragged away by the Rachel Berry tornado and Kurt was alone once more. He kicked the lampshade and watched it get lost in the throng of dancing teenagers. This made him feel very pathetic.

It was only 10:30pm and Kurt felt exhausted. He really didn't want to be here, but he had no choice. At the start of the night, he had tried dancing with Mercedes, but there were too many people and they kept running into him and hitting the bruises on his back. So, he hid in a corner and watched the insanity, trying not to feel too miserable.

"Why are we going to another town?" Blaine asked as he consulted his GPS. Jeff had entered the address and told him to drive, so Blaine didn't bother arguing. The rest of the Warblers were working out their a capella version of You and I by Lady Gaga in the back seat. He had the tenors in his vehicle, David had the baritones in his, and Jeremy was driving the basses. Each part was working on their section as they drove. "Why couldn't we have a party in Westerville?"

Jeff leaned forward and punched Blaine in the arm. "Hey, just because you're the soloist doesn't mean you can interrupt us when we're practicing!"

"Sorry," Blaine held up a hand but didn't take his eyes off the road, "But answer my question because I'm driving."

Nick rolled his eyes and dramatically held up his hands so that the rest of the boys stopped singing. "Everyone, everyone be quiet!" he said, "Prince Blaine has spoken!"

Blaine pouted. "That's not what I meant, guys, I just wanted to know…" he mumbled.

Thad stuck out his bottom lip. "Aw, Blainers, it's okay," he said.

"Okay, guys, stop bugging him," Jeff laughed, "Before he gets in one of his moods." He turned to the seventeen-year-old at the wheel, "I was informed of a New Year's party that the New Directions—glee club from McKinley, remember?—is throwing. They invited me and told me to bring my Warblers…apparently, they didn't know that Blaine was Head Bitch."

Blaine gasped and looked scandalized. "Excuse me?" he said.

The Warblers were laughing hysterically from the back seat. Nick was sitting in the passenger seat, so he tried not to laugh too loudly in fear of being hit by their driver.

"Anyway!" Jeff yelled, "They thought we were cool dudes when they competed against us, so they invited us to their party."

Blaine frowned, still sulking, "But, we don't even know them…"

The platinum blonde shrugged, "They seemed alright. Plus, there might be some kind of sing-off involved, so…"

"Also," Nick piped up, "When I told Samantha about it, she seemed excited, so she's carpooling a bunch of her friends and most of our girlfriends are coming."

The boys in the back seat erupted in cheers. "Girls!" they shouted. Blaine cringed, but he was laughing too. Going to an all-boys private school did have some setbacks for the straight students.

"What are Blaine and I going to do?" Trent complained.

"You'll figure something out," Andrew replied.

"Kiss each other at midnight," Jeff suggested.

Blaine screwed up his face. "Come on, guys," he said, "Trent's my friend. That would be so weird."

"Yeah," Trent agreed, "Plus, if we kissed, Blaine would fall for me. And, he's a little too high-maintenance for me to handle."

Blaine looked scandalized for the second time that night. "I hate you guys," he muttered.

By the time they arrived at the house of Mercedes Jones, the tenors had mastered their section in the Gaga number and Blaine was as pouty as ever. He parked the car and the boys tumbled out, taking their alcohol and their energy with them.

They were welcomed with open arms (mostly). "Warblers!" Mercedes shouted just as Rachel screeched, "Spies!" The boys scattered and Blaine found himself at a loss of what to do.

Blaine explored the large house, laughing at some of the stupid things going on. It was an hour until midnight. Blaine wished that he wasn't the designated driver so that he could let loose, but his name had been drawn from the hat and there was no arguing.

He entered the living room to see Nick and Tina having a sing-off to Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel—one of the numbers the Warblers had prepared, just in case of an encore. Most of the prep-school boys were backing up Nick as he belted it out. Blaine wasn't even mad that the other Warbler had stolen his solo.

He scanned over the living room in vague interest before his gaze landed on somebody leaning on the wall near the back of the room. He recognized him vaguely from one of the background people in the New Directions. The boy was tall, thin and pale, but not in an unhealthy way. Blaine thought he looked aloof in an almost god-like fashion…untouchable. But then there was this vulnerability in his expression as well.

Blaine had the sudden wish to know what colour his eyes were.

Before he knew what he was doing, the lead Warbler made his way across the room and to the dark corner where the boy was standing, "Hey," he said and the boy glanced up in slight alarm.

Oh, they were blue. So very blue.

"Hello," the boy replied, with only a slight amount of suspicion.

Blaine relied on his charming, polite instincts to take charge of his flustered reactions. "I'm Blaine," he said, extending his hand.

His hand felt delicate, but undeniably strong. "Kurt."

"Your skin is really soft," Blaine blurted out before blushing madly.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Thank you," he said wryly, "I moisturize regularly."

"So do I!"

"Are you drunk?"

Blaine blushed even more. "No, I promise. I'm the designated driver for the tenors."

Kurt smiled a little, "You carpool by voice range? Of course you do."

Blaine laughed a little and scuffed his feet. Kurt smiled as if he took pity on the other boy and then patted the wall beside him. The shorter boy took the invitation eagerly and leaned up beside Kurt.

"So, you're the lead Warbler, right?" Kurt asked.


He smiled. "You've got a really good voice."

"Thank you." Blaine got compliments fairly often, but he felt particularly fuzzy inside at this one. "So, um, how come you're not dancing or anything? Or are you just taking a break?"

"Well, first of all, I'm the designated driver as well, so no alcohol for me…and I don't think the dancing is as fun when sober…" Kurt looked out at his friends in bemusement and Blaine analyzed the perfect coif of the taller boy's hair. "To tell you the truth, I'm just waiting for this night to end so that I can drive people home and go to sleep."

Blaine frowned, "You're not having fun?"

"No, I'm okay," Kurt said, blushing a little, "I don't want to throw a pity-party here. But…this just isn't my thing, I guess."

The shorter boy nodded, "It's okay, I understand." Blaine had always been a party person. He loved to let loose and spend time being free and crazy with his friends. But, he could see why somebody like Kurt wouldn't be comfortable. It wasn't as amazing without the alcohol in your bloodstream. "So…" the boy from Dalton started, "Have you seen the Les Miserables movie, yet?"

Kurt's blue eyes lit up instantly, "Ohmygosh, yes."

"Yeah?" Blaine grinned. Common interest=conversation topic=success. "I haven't yet, unfortunately. But I've seen the musical a couple times and, well, I played Marius in our school production."

"You'd be the perfect Marius," Kurt muttered, then quickly changed the subject in slight embarrassment, "Um, so, Dalton Academy has a drama club?"

Blaine smiled, "Yeah. It's really fun." He noticed the way Kurt's eyes lit up. "Do you like theatre?" he ventured.

Kurt looked down, but he was grinning in a bittersweet kind of way. "Yeah, I love it," he said, "But, I never get any lead roles."

"Why not?"

He bit his lip and shrugged. "Our school did West Side Story this year and I auditioned for Tony…but they thought I was too feminine to accurately portray him. And then they gave me the role of Officer Krupke, which made no sense because he's way more manly than Tony, who's quite a sensitive guy, actually…" he looked out into the crowd of dancers as he continued to speak, "The only lead role that I was offered was for Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. But, I mean, just because I'm gay doesn't mean that I like to cross-dress, right? Why can't people just get past these stereotypes and appreciate my talent?"

Then, Kurt looked over at Blaine in alarm. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the taller boy said, "I totally forgot where I was and I just ranted to you for a long time and you must think that I'm totally selfish and—"

"Hey, it's alright," Blaine said gently, placing a hand on Kurt's arm. "I get it, actually. I see where you're coming from and it makes sense for you to feel that way. I don't mind."

Steady blue eyes looked at him. "Thank you," the pale boy said simply.

Blaine smiled, then slid his hand down the other boy's arm so that they were holding hands. "And, I bet your Officer Krupke killed."

Kurt looked flustered. He blushed both at the compliment and the casual way Blaine was holding his hand. "So," he said, returning to their original topic, "Are you planning on seeing Les Miserables soon? Because, you have to get the movie theater experience for that one."

Blaine smiled and scuffed his feet a little. "Would you mind seeing it twice?"


"I mean," he tried to act casual, "Maybe we could see it together."

Kurt looked genuinely shocked. "That…sounds nice," he said finally.

"Could I get your number?" Blaine blurted out. He didn't know why being around this boy made him forget about thinking before speaking.

The taller boy looked like he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not, "Um, yeah, sure."

They exchanged phone numbers and Blaine couldn't help but feel a little triumphant. Kurt just looked bewildered.

They talked easily, discussing many different topics and finding that they had much of the same interests and opinions. Blaine could make Kurt laugh at the most unexpected times, and Kurt entranced Blaine like nobody he had ever met before. By the time it got to 11:45pm, they were quite comfortable around each other. Kurt didn't know it was possible to smile that much in one conversation.

Mercedes' party playlist changed to a slow song—I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz—and Blaine looked over at his the taller boy with expressive hazel eyes. "Do you want to dance?" he asked tentatively. He had noticed how the other boy shied away from most of the people and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Kurt looked around the room, watching the drunken teenagers drape themselves on each other to do something that resembled a slow dance. The atmosphere wasn't as chaotic or potentially overwhelming as it had been for most of the night and Kurt reached a decision.

"Okay," he said simply. The smile that lit up Blaine's face made his heart flutter. They moved out of their corner of the room, hands still linked between them, and found a spot with a little bit of room for movement. They were both nervous and fumbled a bit to decide who was going to lead. They finally settled with Blaine's hand resting lightly on Kurt's waist and Kurt's hand on Blaine's shoulder.

They started to sway with a small amount of space between them—more space than most of the couples there, but less space than platonic friends would have. "This is nice," Kurt muttered over the soothing tones of the song.

Blaine smiled up at him, eyes shining. "It is," he agreed. They were both quite familiar with formal dancing and laughed that both of them were actually moving their feet with the proper steps to the beat, instead of mindless swaying. Kurt spun Blaine around and the shorter boy twirled in an exaggerated motion. "It's really nice to do this sober, for once," Blaine observed. He hadn't thought it was possible to have this much fun, to smile this much.

"See? Being the designated driver can be a worthwhile experience," Kurt teased. They were now dancing a full-out waltz, arms lifted at the elbows and everything, but laughing too much to make it look sophisticated. When the end of the song came, Blaine was slightly surprised when he was leaned backwards for a dip. He grinned breathlessly up at Kurt, who was smiling broadly as well. "That was the best dance I've ever had," Kurt said quietly, before pulling Blaine to stand vertically once more.

Blaine was about to reply, but the lull in the music stopped and a faster song came over the speakers once more. They had to forgo the conversation in favor of weaving back to their original, safe spot by the wall. Once again at the edges of the crowd and craziness, Blaine took Kurt's hand and leaned his head onto the taller boy's shoulder. Kurt seemed surprised again. "Why are you—" he began, then stopped himself when Blaine looked up at him.

"What?" the shorter boy implored, "What's wrong? Is this okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes. This is very okay," he hurriedly assured, "But, I'm just…I'm not used to…I don't—"

"Hey," Blaine stopped him, smiling gently, "It's alright. I get it."

Kurt just pulled him closer and they watched the others dance.

"EVERYBODY! It's almost midnight! Time for the countdown!" Rachel Berry shouted into the microphone. If she were sober, she would have been appalled at what she was doing to her voice.

Blaine sighed a little, "I can't believe this year is over."

"Good riddance," Kurt said. His mouth twisted a little bitterly until Blaine placed a gentle hand near his chin. His face was turned towards the genuine expression on Blaine's face.


Blaine tenderly stroked Kurt's cheek. "Hey, none of that," he reprimanded softly.


Kurt creased his eyebrows, trying not to let Blaine's gentle touch distract him. No one had ever touched him like this before. "None of what?"


The shorter boy's hazel eyes were softly beautiful under the lights. "Don't think about all the negative things, all the shit you've been through. It's a new year. Just try to let it all go, shake it off, and make this one a good year."


Instead of responding verbally, Kurt pulled Blaine close to him and kissed him on the mouth. The shorter boy gasped a little, but the noise was swallowed by the cheering people around them and Kurt's lips on his. It was a simple kiss, but both boys felt as if the fireworks were going off inside their hearts instead of outside. They didn't feel the confetti fall on their hair, they didn't see the flashing lights, they didn't hear the screaming and excitement around them…they were lost in the moment. Lost in each other.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were a little breathless. Blaine looked up into Kurt's oceanic blue eyes and laughed slightly. "Wow," he muttered

Kurt smiled. "I think this year's gotten off to a great start," he said, then kissed him again.

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life…and I'm feeling good."

Author's Second Note: So, what did you think? :) What did you guys do for New Year's Eve?

Take care.

-Patricia Sage