A/N: Well, well, my naughty little minxes, I've got a little present for you. This saucy little one-shot (that I'm actually quite proud of) was born as I was listening to my iPod and came upon some tango music that instantly reminded me of the Argentinean Tango (not to be confused with the more formal Standard Tango) and how friggin' sexy that dance is. So here's what you have to do before you read this, if you want the full effect: go to youtube and look up the "Assassin's Tango" from the Mr. and Mrs. Smith soundtrack, as that's what I was listening to while I wrote this. I mean, you don't have to, but I think if you have it on in the background as you read, it'll make it much more...well, steamy. ;) And who doesn't want that?

Oh, and I wrote this to be a one-shot so I have no intention of continuing with it, though I left the ending a bit ambiguous on purpose. What do you think? Does Blaine follow him? Let me know! ;)

The pulsating bass of a Latin beat filled the crowded club, the air acrid with the bitter taste of cigarette smoke. It was humid and hot, bodies pressed against each other as the music grew louder, drowning out all conversation. Not that people came here to talk. They came here to forget, to lose themselves in passionate and angry lust, where names were neither needed nor wanted.

Kurt was sitting at the bar, drowning himself in his third glass of merlot, the heat and haze of the room causing his head to spin. He watched as bodies gyrated on the dance floor, spinning and grinding against complete strangers, sweat dripping down their bodies. He didn't know what he was doing there, but he faintly remembered earlier that evening when he opened his door to find two bodies fumbling under the covers of his bed and the shocked face of his boyfriend and his boyfriend's lover as he ripped off the sheets. The deafening smack of an open palm hitting flesh echoed in his ears before he tore down the streets of Buenos Aires and stumbled into the loud club, the red and orange lights blinding his tear-filled eyes. He intended to drink until all was forgotten, not particularly concerned about where he would go after the club closed.

He clutched his glass and let the warm liquid drip down his throat, coating his lungs with fire, drinking until it was empty. He set the glass down forcefully on the wooden bar, his head hanging and feeling heavy on his neck. Forcing his chin upwards to catch the bartender's attention once more, he squinted through the thick smoke and caught on two bursts of fire that appeared to watch him intently. The haze momentarily cleared enough to reveal that rather than flames, they were a pair of clear, amber eyes that reflected the streaming lights that flashed in the club. Kurt blinked a few times, his head feeling as though it was filled with water each time he moved, and focused on the eyes that continued to watch him, the gaze never wavering. They were angry and Kurt noted that the more they watched him, the more they turned dark with lust, honey fading into currant black.

Somewhere during his staring contest with this stranger, the bartender had filled his glass with more wine. He stared into the opaque liquid, his body shivering with the knowledge that he was being watched. Without a second thought, Kurt clutched the glass and drank it in one gulp, the acid of fermented grapes burning slightly at his throat. Stumbling off the stool, he made his way along the bar to the eyes, an invisible force pulling him steadily closer. The eyes were glued to him, a malicious glint lighting them up against the smoke as Kurt moved closer, pushing through bodies as though they weren't there at all.

The determined steps of his feet forced the smoke to shift so that he could see more of this stranger and Kurt had to admit that he liked what he saw, despite the bubble of fear and malice that had settled in his stomach. The man had dark, almost black curly hair, parted to the side and gelled slightly in a neat style, though still soft enough so that Kurt felt enticed to tangle his fingers in them and pull. Hard. His skin was tan, darker than Kurt's anyway, and he was clean-shaven, the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones prominent in the dark shadows of the nightclub. His lips were plump and pink, set in a scowl as he waited impatiently for Kurt to walk up to him. He wore a black, pinstriped suit, with satin lapels and a blood red tie, his jacket fitted along broad, strong shoulders. Kurt was feet away now, and the man got up from his stool, squaring his chest to face Kurt head on as he approached. Kurt was surprised to find that he was slightly taller than the stranger but he could tell from the way his arms were crossed along his chest that he was much more solidly toned than he was, another fact that made Kurt want to moan at the sight of him.

Suddenly the mood of the room changed from fast and frantic to slow and enticing, the band going quiet save for a single violinist that began to play picking chords that caused the hairs on Kurt's neck to stand on end. It was soon joined by a piano and Spanish guitar, the notes weaving themselves through the air as though they were dancing. Kurt stood there, his breath heaving as he gazed directly into the glowing eyes of the man. Neither moved, their heartbeats punctuating the band's devilishly slow melody and suddenly Kurt was overcome with the urge to run, everything about the situation screaming danger. He turned to walk out when someone caught his arm harshly and pulled him back, his body spinning before crashing into the stranger's chest. He gasped as he looked into the stranger's face that was painted with an expression Kurt couldn't place. He felt himself being dragged to the dance floor, the band picking up its rhythm a bit more. The curly haired stranger raised a hand and Kurt flinched, waiting for the hot sting across his face but was surprised when he ran the back of it gently along Kurt's face, his skin tingling at the touch. His hand traveled down the side of his neck, along his shoulder, and down his arm, before grasping at his hand tightly, his other hand clamping down on Kurt's waist, pulling their chests flush together. Kurt instinctively placed his free hand on the man's shoulder, the position surprisingly comfortable despite the height difference.

Their bodies began to move slowly, in time with the violinist's bow strokes, as other dancers joined them, though for all Kurt knew, no one else was there. They never broke their gaze, their bodies seeming to move of their own accord. Suddenly, the stranger's hand began to trace its way from Kurt's waist, slowly down over his hip to grasp at his thigh. Without thinking, Kurt grabbed his hand and threw it off of him, staring at the man with a look of disgust as he made to push him away. A steady drumbeat began to sound far away and the man smiled evilly before pressing himself flush against Kurt again. He could feel the wine pulsing through his veins and returning the smile, Kurt lifted his leg and ran it along the stranger's slowly, teasingly, smirking with satisfaction as he watched the dark honey eyes flash quickly with arousal and surprise at the sudden change of power. Not wanting to be outdone, the stranger grasped Kurt's thigh before he could set his foot down and pressed their hips together, the sudden friction causing both men to gasp, their erections rubbing together hotly. With another harsh push, Kurt backed away before walking slowly and predatorily around the stranger in time with the piano, the man whipping his head to keep his eyes on Kurt. When did he become such a tease?

Kurt felt hot and wild and began to drag his back and ass down the stranger's front oh-so slowly, throwing his head back and laughing aloud as the stranger gasped at the touch. Kurt's hand flew to the back of the stranger's head, his fingers gripping his hair tightly, his hips swaying back and forth in time with the tango beat, though Kurt never allowed the stranger's hips to get any nearer than faintly brushing against him. The curly haired man clutched at Kurt's hand that was firmly attached to his hair while the other ran down Kurt's chest, lower and lower towards his belt before Kurt suddenly spun around to face him once more.

The lights in the club flashed brightly as the music reached its climax, and Kurt felt himself being spun out before being pulled back in, his feet following the skilled steps of the stranger, whose eyes looked crimson once more. The melody turned frantic, their bodies twirling and swaying rapidly, which caused both to become slightly dizzy. Both men could feel the sweat dripping down their bodies, though Kurt wasn't sure if his elevated body temperature was because of the crowd or because of the touch of the sexy stranger. The drums pounded louder and louder, the violins building into a deafening crescendo and Kurt barely registered the man's hand that gripped his ass tightly before slipping up his back and dipping him backwards, just as the music came to a sudden and sharp end.

Their faces were mere inches apart, their mouths open and breathing harshly and hotly into each other's. Kurt's hands gripped at the man's shoulders and he stared sharply into his eyes, his wine and lust-hazed brain working furiously to figure out what just happened when a pair of lips crashed harshly into his, the moment for coherent thought completely gone. Kurt pressed back into the kiss, their teeth clashing as they both fought for dominance, their tongues' dancing reminiscent of the tango their bodies had just done. The stranger tightened his hold on Kurt's waist, his fingertips digging into his skin. The man hissed as Kurt bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to break skin. The man pulled back an inch and licked his lip, the devilish smile returning as he tasted the coppery liquid. He descended upon Kurt's mouth again, his tongue brushing against every surface of the inside of his mouth and he savored the lingering taste of wine that was faint on his breath. The man groaned, his hand running up and down the side of Kurt's hip but gasped when Kurt pushed him away harshly, his eyes blazing. The man looked at Kurt with a confused stare and made to press himself against Kurt once more but was met with an unmoving hand against his chest.

With one final glint of his eyes, Kurt stalked to the door of the bar, the smoke clearing in his wake, and he smiled to himself as he felt the overwhelming heat of eyes burning into his back before losing himself to the humid Argentine night.

Don't know about you, but I need a cold shower now. *flails at the imagery*