duran.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually admitted that out loud, and now Blaine was asking about it. Putting everything else on hold for the moment, Duran scratched the back of his head nervously. “I–ah,” he started, grinning sheepishly. “It’s not something I usually talk about, but pole dancing is something I’ve always been into. I think I actually started in, um…middle school? Or when I was thirteen?” He honestly couldn’t remember. Duran felt like he’d been doing it all his life at this point. “I just liked the idea of people doing fun tricks on a pole, and I told myself I’d be one of those people.” The more he talked about it, the more comfortable Duran felt.

“It’s definitely not easy. I still fall off from time to time.” He lowered his hands back to the table, forcing himself to keep them there. “Are you interested in learning at all? I can see you doing it.” The former Warbler had expressed some interest, so Duran didn’t feel embarrassed recommending it. It was a good work out too, he thought.

“Anyway, yeah. No, you’re right. I don’t want to transfer schools just because of the dress code. Dalton is my home.” He smiled. “I get plenty of t-shirt and sweats use at home anyway.”

Was he making him nervous?  Was it the questions about the pole dancing?  He didn’t see anything wrong with it–to each their own–but he could understand where the rather unexpected yet curiously unique hobby might make the person into it worry about whether or not they’d be scrutinized or judged by someone ignorant enough to think it was their business to do so. Still?  Interrupting him would have been rude. Duran seemed to be relaxing some.

Unless he showed that he’d rather not talk about it and went past the line of being shy to uncomfortable?  Blaine was going to keep his mouth shut and pay attention.  Even lean toward the coffeecup he drug close debating another sip.  Or to draw this one out so the conversation would last longer before refills.  The mental image of Duran falling on his rear off a pole drew a toothy smile and quiet chuckle.

“That has to hurt when you do.  Depending on where you are at the time.  My luck?,” he grinned, “I’d be upside down and woosh!”  His hand swung up with a pivot of the wrist towards the ceiling then swooped to the ground, “Ouch.”  He paused at the offer and went a few shades of pink.  “Maybe someday I’ll take you up on the offer.  Soon as I get settled in and figure out what the inner workings of the public school system–again.  I’m glad you’re staying at Dalton.  If I helped in that decision,” he shrugged and sipped his coffee flicking the fingers of his left hand like he tossed away any idea of guilt, “I’m not in the least bit sorry.  Sweatshirt it up on the weekends all you want.  That blazer looks great on you.”