"Let's give another round of applause to Dalton's own... Warblers!"

The boys stepped forward and took a group bow, grinning and waving to the crowd. The Dalton alumni invitational concert in Cincinnati was an annual affair, but it still drew hundreds of attendees every year. The school used it as an opportunity to raise money for the arts program.

"Encore!" an alumnus shouted, and the rest of the audience joined in as they clapped. "Give us one more, boys!"

Wes and Blaine locked eyes, and smiled at each other. Wes cocked an eyebrow, and Blaine laughed. The fundraiser had netted over one million dollars for Dalton, to be used to refurbish the seats in the theater. It seemed there was only one song that fit the occasion. Thad saw the exchange and caught on, taking out the pitch pipe and blowing a B. The group formed a casual semi-circle around Blaine, building a backup before he broke into the opening line of "Bills Bills Bills."

Kurt swayed back and forth like the rest of the boys, singing dutifully and avoiding eye contact with Blaine. It had been nearly a week since Blaine's sexuality crisis (or, as Kurt liked to think of it during his bitchier moods, Blaine's Attempt at Bi-Winning) and the friends had barely spoken since.

As the song reached its end, the alumni rose to their feet, applauding enthusiastically. The Warblers made their way off the stage and into the crowd. Most were seasoned schmoozers, having been raised in high-class society. Kurt hung back, though, observing the throngs from afar.

"Ever see so many trophy wives in one room?" came a voice beside him. He turned to see Jeff standing there, smirking. "Must be a world record."

"They are beautiful," Kurt intoned. "Have to wonder, though, where all the trophy husbands are."

Jeff huffed out a humorless laugh, folding his arms and leaning against the wall as they people-watched. "Trophy husbands? Oh, Kurt, that would imply that Dalton has gay alumni. No no, that would just be uncouth."

"Right." Kurt rolled his eyes. "So what happens to all us gay students, then? We don't get to be alums?"

"Didn't you know? Dalton doesn't have gay students, it has gugs." He motioned to Blaine, who was standing with a middle-aged couple, nursing a glass of ginger ale and chatting amiably. "Case in point: Blaine Anderson. King of the gugs."

"What's a gug?"

Jeff made a derisive sound. "It's a phenomenon mostly found in single-sex schools. When faced with the sudden absence of the opposite gender, students start directing their raging teenage hormones at one another. It's a move born of desperation, and in the heat of the moment they mistake it for sexual preference. Once they're out of school, they come to their senses and go back to heterosexual bliss. Thus the acronym: Gay Until Graduation, or gug."

"Blaine's gay."

"For now. I heard he went out with a girl last week."

"If you can call Rachel Berry that. She has a mannish way about her." Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Blaine's crisis aside, in two years' time you won't be able to say there aren't true-blue queer Dalton alums. I'll have graduated by then, and I'm about as flaming as they come."

"Oh really," Jeff drawled.

"Really."

"You're sure about that."

"No phase here, my friend. My first crush was on Prince Eric, when I was five."

Jeff laughed at that. They watched as their classmates moved around the room, exchanging niceties with well-dressed couples. "Me too, by the way."

"You liked Prince Eric?"

"No. I mean, yes, but I was saying I'm gay too. Until graduation and beyond, to paraphrase Buzz Lightyear." He turned to look at Kurt intently. "Listen... after the festivities wind down, we're allowed to go out and explore Cincinnati for a few hours. We don't have to be back at the hotel until midnight. Most of the Warblers usually get ice cream and see a movie, but if you wanted..." His eyes darted around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. "... I know a place where we could go."

"What kind of place?" Kurt asked slowly, his brows furrowed.

"A gay nightclub. It's called Kinks."

Kurt sucked in a long breath. "Kinks?"

"I discovered it last year by accident," Jeff said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I caught sight of this hot guy and started following him – for no reason, really, it's not like I would have worked up the nerve to talk to him – and eventually he ducked into a side alley and went through an unmarked door. The bouncer looked me over and let me in, and..." His face took on a dreamy expression. "Greatest night of my life."

"What was so great about it?"

"Uh, a huge club filled with hot, sweaty, horny guys? Really? Tell me you don't want in."

Kurt felt his face flushing. "I don't know."

"What don't you know? It's not like this opportunity comes along every day. You live in Lima, for god's sake."

"I know, but those clubs can be kind of sketchy."

"That's why we'd go together. Safety in numbers, isn't that what they taught us in kindergarten?"

"I think that lesson was about crossing the street, not visiting gay nightclubs."

Jeff leaned closer. "You don't have to hook up with anyone," he said earnestly. "You really don't. But think about it, Kurt – an entire room full of gay men. Men who don't hesitate to hold hands or kiss in public. Men who are proud of who they are." He gestured at the crowd in front of them. "Wouldn't you rather be in their company, rather than a room full of gugs? Wouldn't you like to spend just one night not being different?"

Kurt bit his lip, wrestling with indecision.

"Look," continued Jeff, "I'm not going to force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable." He checked his watch briefly. "It's eight o'clock now, and this schmooze-fest will last another half an hour, at least. At nine sharp, I'm going to head out for Kinks. If you want to join me, come by my room and we can go together. I'm in room 428." He gave Kurt a significant look, then disappeared into the throngs of people.

After another several minutes of watching his peers mingle, Kurt finally stepped forward, weaving his way through the crowd. He reached the doorway of the performance hall and exited without a glance backward. There was nothing back there for him.

He made his way up to his room. A Dalton alum had sprung for their stay in the hotel, and it was Kurt's first time staying in a place that nice. He ran a hand over the linen bedspread appreciatively and was idly considering making use of the jacuzzi in the bathroom when a knock sounded from the door.

He smirked a little as he went to open it. "What happened to not forcing me–" he broke off in surprise, seeing that it was not Jeff after all. "Oh. Hi."

"Hey," Blaine replied. He had taken off the Dalton blazer at some point, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Between that and his slightly disheveled hair, Kurt thought he looked good enough to eat. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. You?"

"Just left the shindig downstairs. How come you didn't stick around?"

"It's... not really my scene," Kurt said finally. "Did you have a nice time?"

Blaine's face lit up. "It was amazing. I got to meet Congressman Inglesby and we talked for a long time. He said he takes a couple of Dalton boys as interns every summer, and told me I should apply. Isn't that crazy?"

"Crazy."

"He and his wife were just so nice–"

"Did you tell them you were gay?" Kurt interrupted, studying his fingernails.

Blaine's mouth fell open in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I... no, of course I didn't."

"Ah."

"Why on earth would I tell them I'm gay?" Blaine asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Right, of course you wouldn't," Kurt said airily. "After all, there's no telling when you'll meet another girl in a fugly dress who makes you question who you are."

There was a long pause, as Blaine stared at him. "If I'm at an event where I meet a congressman, and he asks me about what classes I like, there's not really an opening for me to tell him that I'm sexually attracted to men," he said slowly, through gritted teeth.

"And if there were an opening? You would have volunteered that info?" Kurt knew he was pushing it, but he couldn't help himself.

"Ralph Inglesby has a proven record of supporting gay rights," Blaine said furiously. "That's why I wanted to meet him. That's why I'd consider being an intern for him." He ran his palm over his hair, making a noise of frustration. "How long, Kurt?"

"How long... what?"

"How long are you going to punish me for what happened with Rachel? How long is this freeze-out going to last?"

Kurt just looked at him. He thought about the room downstairs, filled with successful men with lovely women on their arms. He thought about a room full of proud gay men, dancing and kissing and sweating and grinding. He thought about gugs, and Blaine.

"At least one more night," he said, and closed the door.

He sat on his bed until he was sure Blaine had left. Then, he grabbed the pad of hotel stationery, scribbled a quick note for his roommate, and left.