#badboy!kurt

He knew some of this wasn’t really about his talent. Finn had dumped Rachel in the middle of the summer and she was going full scorched earth on him. Last week he caught her flipping through the yearbook and making a list of potential new boyfriends. Even now, he could see her clocking the boys at school to see who had the right look and height. If there was a suitable suitor taller than Finn she was going to find him.

Being the new kid was not new to Blaine. In junior high Blaine had convinced his parents that the best place for him was Dalton Academy in just-far-enough-away Westerville. It had courses fitting any proper prep school and extracurriculars that he could not get at Lima West Junior High. He sold them on fencing and debate, even if his heart was in the acapella group he could join in 9th grade. With the amount they were willing to spend on Rachel’s private dance and voice teachers, it was reasonable to send Blaine there and even things out. It also meant that Rachel got to be the center of their world Monday through Friday, a situation she fully enjoyed.

Still, starting a new school in his junior year had its challenges even if he weren’t attached to Rachel. Everyone already had their routines. Everyone else knew exactly where to go. He was glad that he had walked the campus last weekend because the layout of the school really made no sense. Who puts a French and Astronomy right next to a choir room? He wasn’t even sure where the Math department was, or if those classrooms were also littered throughout the buildings seemingly at random.

He was looking down at his map when suddenly the top of his head ran into something solid.

“Ow, oh excuse me,” Blaine says, turning his eyes up to meet the person he had bumped into. She was tall, blonde, and looming.

“What are you doing running around my hallways like a shellacked battering ram? Bell rings in one minute, you better not be late or you’ll be repairing uniforms in a detention sweat shop for the rest of the week.”

“What?” Blaine must have misheard.

“50, 49, 48, 47…”

Blaine hurries away as the strange woman counts down. Luckily for him, math room 14B is just at the end of this hall.

He slides into the classroom and into the first open seat before the bell rings. It was up front but he didn’t mind that too much. He was used to engaging with his teachers. Being up front meant it was that much easier to talk to them or go up to the board to show how to solve for something.

The teacher ends up being sort of a dud. By the time the bell rings, Blaine is happy to be moving on to 2nd period. He’ll need to start having coffee on weekday mornings to get through this one. Blaine is packing up his bag when a voice comes in from the opposite side.

“What a snoozefest,” she says. “Hi, I’m Tina. Word on the street is that you are Rachel’s mystery brother.”

“Well I don’t know about the mystery but I am her brother,” he replies.

Blaine extends a friendly hand and she shakes it. The other students file out of class, maneuvering around the two of them. There are too many of them to take in. Most of them are a blur of noise or movement. He catches a whiff of an interesting cologne but it is gone quickly.

“Where are you off to next? I've got English,” Tina says.

“History, which is apparently way on the other side of campus. I better go.” Blaine excuses himself with a smile.

“Come sit with the glee kids at lunch!” Tina calls after him.

He gives a friendly wave and cheerily says “I don’t think I have a choice!” as he walks away.

His route to the next class is basically backtracking down the same hallway. Hopefully that aggressive lady won’t be there this time. The familiar route allows him the opportunity to take in more of his surroundings and his fellow students. The walls are much more lively than Dalton, as are the students. Some of them huddle in groups and he passes more than one couple in full on PDA. That is going to take some getting used to. He watches the people walking in front of him, checking out their styles and finding most of it pretty plain. The crowd parts and something catches his eye.

Up ahead a tall swoop of brown hair with a deep purple streak bobs above the masses. Its sway is hypnotizing and Blaine inadvertently follows it down the hall trying to get a glimpse of the rest of the person. He gets to the bottom of the stairs as they turn the top corner, catching a glimpse of a pair of combat boots as they go.

He ascends the stairs and finds a couple of history classes. His is the second one down, decorated with an oversized print of the Constitution. It’s a little gauche but he reminds himself that this is public school. He is less prepared for the teacher to be dressed as a full on pilgrim but at least Ms. Holiday is entertaining. The rest of the class is already paired up so he takes a seat at the empty table and gets out his iPad.

“This year, we embark on a fact-filled journey through the struggles and triumphs of the USA. Pack your bags for adventure and peril, be ready for anything because we are not just preparing for an AP test, we are building a country!” Her enthusiasm is, well, something. Blaine takes notes, unsure what - if anything - she is saying will be important later.

Suddenly, the same tall swoop of hair comes into class. He hands her a note and takes a seat at the only empty spot, right next to Blaine. He does not unpack anything, just listens as the teacher continues to talk.

It makes Blaine a little nervous for him, he really ought to be at least making note of the syllabus. Instead he is perched on the stool, leaning casually and with a blank, almost cold, expression. Blaine cannot help but watch him through his peripheral vision. His profile really is something. From pert nose to cut jawline, he is classically handsome and a bit ethereal. Blaine cracks his knuckles to focus his head back onto his notes, getting back to his typing.

“... which will be 40% of your overall grade. The person sharing your table will be your partner so let’s take 5 minutes for you to get acquainted,” the teacher finishes.

Blaine pops his head up from his screen then darts to the right, awkwardly staring at the guy next to him. Fuck, he thinks to himself. I’m going to end up doing all the work on this project.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep up my end,” he suddenly feels his new partner whisper into his ear.

A chill runs down Blaine’s spine. He’s not sure if this is good or bad.

“I’m Kurt”, the guy says, pulling himself back into a casual pose.

“Blaine.” He holds out a hand to shake and Kurt takes it. His hands are soft and firm. It sends a fizzy sensation up Blaine’s spine.

Blaine takes a minute to appreciate him from this angle. Kurt removes his jacket and hangs it on the back of the stool. He is broad shouldered and his arms are well defined underneath a worn gray T-shirt. Fuck, he is really cute, too. Maybe I won’t mind doing all the work.

“So, I am —”

“New here,” Kurt interjects.

“Yes, actually. Is it that obvious?”

“I think I would remember you,” Kurt says.

Blaine isn’t sure what he implies but doesn’t ask. For all of Rachel’s preparations for life at McKinley, he is unprepared for this interaction. So he just smiles politely to see if Kurt will say more.

“Times up, eyes on me,” Ms. Holiday says and the moment is broken.

Blaine returns to his notes, trying his best not to glance at Kurt. He is leaning forward on the table now, arms outstretched like a bored cat. Kurt smells like Paul Smith London and a hint of motor oil.

The bell rings and Kurt stands to leave.

“Do you want my number?” Blaine blurts out. “For class. In case we need to talk about class.”

“How about I see you here tomorrow, new kid?” Kurt slips back into his jacket and leaves the classroom.

***

Blaine has three texts from Rachel about where she will be at lunch. He skips the cafeteria line and goes to sit with her and her friends in the quad. Even without the texts it would have been impossible to miss her, she is standing up and waving like a maniac at him.

Six of them are jammed around a round table. Tina is there, as expected, along with some other faces he recognizes from pictures on Rachel’s inspiration board. He doesn’t get a proper introduction to most of them, Blaine figures that will come with time. He takes a seat next to Tina who seems safe enough.

“So this is the brother? I knew he would be short. Is anyone in your family over five feet?” a dark haired girl asks Rachel.

“Santana, play nice. Blaine may be medium in stature but his talent more than makes up for it.” Rachel has clearly been laying the groundwork with the others.

“Were you really lost in the Shire all this time?” The blonde girl next to Santana asks.

“Brittany!” Rachel starts up again. “You guys promised.”

“We need something fun to get through this day,” Santana continues. “It is honestly the worst. Everyone is dressed up and showing off how they’ve changed up their look since the summer. Take note, Berry, sweaters with bows are out.”

Santana continues talking, undeterred from the faces around the table as she rants. Blaine stops listening and looks around the quad. He spots Finn eating lunch on the stairs with a couple other guys and gives a friendly wave. He’s only spoken to Finn a couple times but he seemed cool. Finn gives him a nod and turns back to the other guys he is standing with.

“What are you doing?” Rachel asks, indignant.

“Just saying hello.”

“Well don’t. He does not deserve any of the Berry family sympathy.”

“Only you and Dad are Berrys. Father and I are Andersons. At least hyphenate if you are going to try and bring me into this. Besides, I like Finn. He was always nice enough to me. I might as well stay friendly in case you two get back together.”

Rachel gasps and turns her attention back to the group, detailing her plans for this week’s performance in the quad. The group dissolves into arguments over the idea. Some for, some against, and even more with their own input on what song they might sing. Blaine loves performing, but not drama. He’ll get a recap at home tonight, so he pulls out his phone to play a game and pass the time.

Rachel’s friends are nice, but he isn’t sure if he really clicks with anyone in the group. Tina, who is apparently dating Mike, is very chatty. She and Mercedes had spent most of the time catching up on first day gossip. Artie had wanted to know his opinion of Mass Effect and whether he preferred Italian or French films. Brittany and Santana are equal parts scary and confusing. The rest of the guys are too far down the table to really talk to.

He looks back at Finn and considers going over to say hello but something bright pink draws his eye. A girl crosses the quad on the opposite side.

“What a mess. I’ll admit the hair is hot but that tattoo and sloppy skirt... Oh, how the mighty have fallen. And how the even mightier are going to be on the top of the pyramid.” Santana straightens up her spine and sticks out her boobs.

“Do you think she smells like Strawberry Shortcake?” Brittany asks the group.

“What she smells of is cigarettes, which ruin the voice,” Rachel cuts in. “I’m sorry to say it, but Quinn cannot come back like that. We’ll need to replace her. And now that we’ve lost Finn and Puck, we’ll need to hold auditions.”

“We lost Finn and Puck?” Tina asks. “What about Sam?”

“I don’t know anything about Sam,” Mercedes blurts out. “I mean, I haven’t seen him all summer.”

“Have no fear, intrepid harmonizers,” Rachel says as the rest of them groan. “I spoke with Mr. Schue and he said tryouts are all this week after school. We have Blaine. We just need a few more fillers to make sure we sound full.”

“Wanky,” Santana says.

The bell rings and they all start to go their separate ways.

“See you after school, Blaine!” Tina calls out as she and Mike leave the quad.

***

“For those of you who don’t know, which clearly means you have not been paying attention, my very talented brother will be joining the glee club this year. Blaine was the lead in his acapella group at Dalton and is bringing his talented harmonies to our group to help lift our sound and make our stars shine even brighter.”

“Okay, thank you, Rachel,” Mr. Schuester interrupts, ushering her into a chair in the front row. “Yes, auditions are starting this week. We have lots of spots to fill this year. We need to energize and inspire more students to get involved.”

“Or we won’t have enough people to compete,” Santana interjects.

“Yes, that is true, Santana. We lost a few good people from last year and we need to take things back to basics and build this team from the ground up.”

Blaine isn’t sure what they are talking about. He knows that Rachel and Finn broke up, and he told her this was her turf and that he wasn’t going to take part in Glee anymore. Did he really have so many friends that the club is desperate for members? Most of the people he heard her mention are still here.

“And so today we have just one audition. This afternoon we’ll practice our lunch time number to get more folks. Take it away, Blaine.”

He goes to the piano and chats quickly with Brad, making sure they are in the same key before launching into a stripped down version of “Last Friday Night”. It is fun to let loose with the other members as they bop along with him. Even Mr. Schuester gets into it at one point. By the end of the song everyone is all smiles and they announce that he is officially in.

“Well, that was a fun warm up! Now, time to focus on this week’s performance. I’ve picked a fun classic that showcases a few of your voices especially. And we need to block out some basic choreo.” Mr. Schuester hands out sheet music and gets everyone lined up to start practicing.

***

After dinner, Blaine takes a nice long shower and changes into comfortable clothes. He takes some time to organize his computer desktop with all the class information he got today. He updates his calendar with the deadlines he has so far and tags the syllabi for easy reference.

Glee club is Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and 5th period if he can transfer out of art class. Mr. Schuester had originally made it seem like getting into the class itself might be hard, but he was happy to sign off on his class transfer request after Blaine’s audition. He will have to choose between chess club and math club since both of those are on Wednesday. McKinley doesn’t offer fencing or polo but he’s hoping to keep them up on the weekends. He still has his sights set on the ivy league and hopes this change doesn’t set him too far back. It should be easy to keep his grades up. He just needs to be sure to stand out this year. They don’t let just anyone into The Kronks or the Whiffenpoofs.

The sound of Rachel’s evening vocal exercises comes down the hall. He chuckles to himself. She really puts all of her eggs in one basket. He knows she is better than him since she can hit notes he can only dream about. With a talent like that, she just might get to Broadway.

He puts in his earbuds and relaxes on his bed. Life at home is different. Even in the summers he still sort of felt like he was just visiting. It’s an adjustment to think that this is where he will be for two full years.

***

On Tuesday, he gets called into the counseling office at the end of first period. He meets his kind, redheaded counselor who goes over his courses and an updated schedule with him in great detail. She seems genuinely excited to meet him and to help him transer into glee class. She also gives him a pamphlet called “Getting the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks Outta Town”, which he politely slides into his bag.

By the time he gets to second period, class is almost over and Kurt isn’t there. He’ll have to email the teacher about what he missed.

***

At lunch on Friday, Rachel is once again on top of the table, this time belting out the final line for “We Got The Beat” along with Santana. The rest of the club stands circled around them, frozen in place from where they had been dancing.

Blaine is overjoyed. He misses performing for an audience and looks around, expecting to see the happy faces of his schoolmates. Instead, he hears boos and jeers - and ducks just as a banana whizzes past his head.

In the distance, Blaine sees the girl with pink hair again. She watches the group over the top of her sunglasses, scoffing and shaking her head. Then she disappears around the stairs.

The glee club scatters as more food and small containers start to fly.

The chatter in the choir room that day is wild. None of them seem to be concerned that they were assaulted by the student body. Instead, they are arguing about who sounds the best and why.

“I hit notes you can only dream of.”

“My technique is far superior.”

“I am the hottest and no one can take their eyes off of me.”

Mr. Schuester shushes them and has them take their seats.

“Good job today everyone. Now I know some of you may find this challenging, but we need to make sure this team is well balanced. Which is why I have been doing some recruiting of my own. Please welcome back to the club, Finn and Puck!” He says their names like a game show host announcing a prize. Puck struts into the room, Finn follows behind a bit slow and sheepish. They grab the two open chairs on the far side.

“Mr. Schue, we cannot continue forth as a group when you allow back in those who have sowed such discord and tragedy among us.” Rachel is the loudest and only complaint.

“Rachel, we need their voices. You will just have to find a way to triumph over this adversity. Perhaps next week you can sing us a ballad about it?” He tries to soothe her. “Now, let’s work on our scales. Sectionals are just a few weeks away.”

Blaine is unfortunately sat in the row between Finn and Rachel, who spend most of the class period stealing glances and glaring at the other. Mr. Schuester doesn’t so much teach as he does redirect. The drama between students is not addressed. Instead, he tries to channel it into practice of scales and basic dance moves. They run wild with each other but somehow keep the structure of the group intact.

That evening, Blaine gets an email with the subject line “week 1” and opens it to find an attachment from Kurt.

Kurt not only did all of his work but all of the work for this week, including Blaine’s part. Blaine reads through it and it is good, really good. He is equal parts relieved and insulted. How dare he assume that Blaine would not do his own work, and do it well?

He considers firing off a snippy email but thinks the better of it. Instead he reads back through Kurt’s work. He combines Kurt’s portion with his and proof reads it to make sure it flows well together. When he is satisfied, he replies to Kurt with the final version and uploads a copy to the teacher.

He goes to bed still fuming.

***

When Blaine gets to class on Monday Kurt is actually there, feet propped on the stool he needs to sit on.

“That is my seat.” It comes out harsher than Blaine had intended.

Kurt slides his legs off slowly, then straightens up as Blaine sits down. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again and turns his attention to his nails, picking out little bits of grime and tossing them to the floor.

“You should know that you can trust me to get the work done,” Blaine insists.

Kurt scoffs. “Not really in my nature.”

“Well get used to it because, for better or worse, we are a team.”

“Look, prep school, I am going to do what I need to do, when I need to do it. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Nor you me,” Blaine responds. “I am more than capable of handling myself. I’ll have you know I am in the running to be valedictorian. There are just a couple kids ahead of me and I am going to give them a run for their money between now and graduation.” He doesn’t mean to get too heated but something about Kurt gets under his skin.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, since you are barely here I might even do some of your work to make sure you are able to keep up with me.” Blaine sees something shift in Kurt’s eyes. The fire that was there is replaced with something. Intrigue? Kurt gets a satisfied look on his face.

“Well we’ll just see about that,” Kurt says.

Part 2: Spinning

Sectionals ends up being a cake walk. The other two teams were fine at best, which meant the unprepared but over talented New Directions were able to win. Blaine and Rachel sang lead on the opening number, then she got a whole ballad to herself, then the team shared more of the spotlight for the upbeat dance number at the end.

In the last few weeks, Blaine has become friends with most of the rest of the club. They finally see him as his own person and not just Rachel’s brother. Sometimes it is a fine line to walk.

“Okay, Rach, last chance. I’m leaving soon,” he says through her door, trying one last time to get her to come to the afterparty at Tina’s.

“I cannot. The emotions are too fresh and I need to be with them. Great artists live in their emotional experiences even when it is lonely at the top.”

“I’m sure he heard. Your ballad wasn’t exactly subtle. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

She rebuffs the offer again so Blaine decides to head out. He checks himself in the mirror one more time before leaving. He’s probably overdressed for a glee club party but that’s fine with him. Maybe tonight he will meet a prince charming among the toads at McKinley.

Tina’s house is set back from the road, just far enough that neighbors cannot hear what is clearly a teen party. By the time Blaine gets there, the party is large enough that there are people there he does not know. He doubts most of them even know what they are celebrating. He spots Mike and Tina in the kitchen and goes to join them. They look loose and happy, clearly having had a couple drinks. They are talking with Mercedes.

“Blaine, you made it!” Mike greets him with a high five and pat on the shoulder. “We were just talking about who Mercedes should date.”

She blushes and punches MIke lightly on the arm.

“Ooh, do tell,” Blaine says.

“Well we know Shane has made some moves but there is also a mystery man that she is texting and won’t tell us about.” Tina is happy to fill in when Mercedes doesn’t speak.

Mercedes scoffs and buries her face in the plastic cup. “No comment.”

“Fine,” Tina says. “Okay then, if we cannot matchmake ‘Cedes will get to work on you. Mike and I want to go on double dates. And right now the only other glee couple is Brittany and Santana…” Tina motions to the other side of the room.

Brittany is sitting in Santana’s lap and playing with her hair. They are in their own little world, just talking with each other and being affectionate. They look effortlessly connected and happy. Blaine wishes he could have something like that, just a little more private.

“I think they are sweet,” he says.

“They are, but that can turn on a dime. You can’t let your guard down with those two.” Tina explains. She’s had plenty of ups and downs with them over the years and Blaine trusts her experience. She circles back to her original point. “It’s really too bad you aren’t bi, Blaine. We would have so many more options. The only gay guy I know is off limits.”

“Like restricted?” Blaine asks.

“Like bad news,” Tina clarifies.

“He’s not bad news,” Mercedes says. She goes silent for a moment, like she is carefully considering what to say next. “I can’t judge because I don’t walk in his shoes. But I think there is still something good in there.”

“I’m confused. Who are we talking about?” Blaine’s gaydar has picked up very few options at McKinley.

“No one worth your time,” Tina says. “So, I hate to ask but sort of have to know. How’s Rachel?”

“Did you know that Celine Dion has released 137 songs?” Blaine says.

“That bad, huh? I always figured they would get back together. Maybe after Regionals,” Tina says.

“Maybe at Regionals,” Mike says. Both girls groan and take turns throwing napkins at him.

“Please don’t put that out there. You know they would, and then rather than hearing my voice we’ll have them hogging the stage, again.”

“I can’t have Finn singing lead on the stage. No one could see me behind him,” Blaine jokes.

Mercedes giggles into her wine cooler. “Blaine you are funny. I admit, when you showed up I was not happy. I don’t need two of you trying to take my spotlight. But you are a good guy, Blaine.”

“Thanks. I try.” Blaine really likes Mercedes. He needs to spend more time with her.

Across the room, Blaine sees the girl with pink hair in the living room talking with Puck.

“Who is that? I see her on campus sometimes,” Blaine asks.

“That is Quinn. She used to be in glee club with us. Then she had a baby, did not get prom queen, and sort of lost it over the summer. Now she is rocking that look and trying to do everything her mother does not want her to do. She is struggling.” Mercedes is happy to gossip but there is a lingering kindness between every truth she tells. “I miss having her in glee club. She and I were really close our first year, then we drifted apart. I can’t seem to reach her now. That’s two we lost.”

“Two of what?” Blaine asks.

“Two from glee that went bad, she means.” Tina cuts in. “Instead of using the Cheerios, we’d have enough real singers right now if they would just come back. But they are too prideful, both of them.”

“Quinn and who?”

“Kurt,” Tina says. Blaine’s eyes go wide with surprise. “His voice was good, too. He could hit high notes other guys could not. But things really turned for him last year. I don’t even know what. He dropped out of the club after Regionals. I just know one of the jocks who used to give him a hard time is gone. Word on the street is that he made a move on Kurt, and Kurt fought back… hard.”

“What, what kind of move?” Blaine is on the edge of his seat.

“That is Kurt’s private business,” Mercedes says. “We shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Fine, fine,” Tina says. “Anyway Kurt never took anyone’s shit and now he really doesn’t. He did dress better though.”

“I like the way he dresses,” Blaine confesses. The drinks have made him loose-lipped. “He knows a good cut and even when he is dirty he has style.”

“Oh my god, Blaine. You have a crush! You have a crush on Kurt!” Tina says loudly.

“Shh, I do not. I just appreciate beauty when I see it. Besides, he kinda hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Mercedes says.

“He does. I am stuck with him for a partner in history and it has been a disaster. He barely shows up, and is always super snippy.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Tina says. Mike makes another noncommittal gesture, his signature move when he wants to take part but not make waves.

“Anyway,” Mercedes interjects. “We are here to have a good time. And even though I only got to hit that note at the end…”

“Which you killed, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tina. Even though my light was under the bushel until I killed that note, we won! We are going to crush Regionals and take on Nationals this year. I can feel it in my bones.”

“To winning,” Mike raises a glass.

They toast to the future and drink some more. Blaine has only had a cup of whatever this mixed punch is but he is feeling good. This is the most fun he has had since transferring.

A commotion starts up in the living room. A crowd has gathered and Blaine lifts up on his tiptoes to see what is going on. Santana is addressing a crowd.

“Listen up, losers, time to spice things up. In celebration of our victory, anyone who was ever in glee club is gonna play spin the bottle.” Santana has something wicked in mind, she smirks as she calls out people from the crowd. “All of you in the kitchen, get your butts over here. Frankenteen and Puck, you as well. All my background dancers, yes good. Don’t think I don’t see you, Quinnie. Get your Seacrest back tattoo over here. And who is that I see slinking in the front door just now? Sad Streisand, come on down.”

Blaine looks over to see his sister arriving. He gives her a soft smile and wave, she comes and sits next to him on the sofa.

One by one the glee club past and present assemble in the living room. The rest of the party goes on around them, most of them not even noticing what is taking place in this huddle.

“Okay, so, you all know the rules. If your bottle lands on someone you kiss them. Unless it lands on Brit, in which case I kiss her, and vice versa. No chickening out, kisses happen for each spin. Who’s up first?”

Puck grabs the bottle and gives it a spin. It lands on Brittany and, true to her word, Santana gives her a kiss while holding an open palm up to Puck’s face.

Mike and Tina have strategized and positioned themselves on opposite sides of the coffee table. It makes it easy for Mike to spin it and get his girlfriend. Santana makes a bored face.

“Finn is next,” she says.

“Why me?” Finn questions.

“Because I need some drama. The gang’s all here.” Santana narrows her eyes at Rachel, then turns her head and smirks at Quinn.

Finn hesitates, then gives the bottle a wild spin. It turns over and over again, then starts to slow. It passes Quinn and heads towards Rachel but lands just beyond her… on Blaine.

“I’m not kissing him. It’s like incest or something.”

“He’s her brother, nimrod, not yours,” Santana corrects.

“But he’s still a him. I don’t want to. Can’t someone else do it? Maybe one of the girls wants to. Or Mike? No offense, dude, but I’m not kissing a dude. Can I nudge it back towards Rachel?”

“No!” Multiple voices from the group shout out.

“Ugh, fine.” Santana looks around. “By the Lopez rules it can be anyone in a direct line behind you.”

All eyes are on Finn now. He’s been standing so Blaine isn’t sure if anyone is behind him at all. It could just be the wall. But as Finn lowers to sit, Kurt comes into view. He is directly behind Finn, leaning against the far wall.

“Goddamit,” Kurt says as they stare at him. He gives Santana a knowing look, but Blaine isn’t sure what it means.

“Kurt,” Santana feigns surprise. “Meet Blaine.”

“I know his name, Satan.” Kurt looks at Blaine, his face torn, then back at Finn. “Shame on you, Finn.”

Kurt crosses the room and stands in front of Blaine, who is still sitting on the couch. From this angle, he is even more intimidating and gorgeous. Blaine tries to play it cool.

“Its fine, you don’t have to -”

Blaine’s words are cut off by lips on his. Kurt bends over him, leaning into his space with his arms on the couch framing the sides of Blaine’s head. The kiss is good, very good. Just the right pressure and Kurt’s lips feel so soft. There is a brush of tongue on his bottom lip and then it is over. Disappearing as quickly as it started.

Blaine opens his eyes to see Kurt walking away. Kurt gives Santana a look as he exits the room and then he is gone. Blaine takes a moment to get his wits about him, still intoxicated by what just happened.

***

By the time Monday comes, Blaine had played the kiss over in his head too many times. Now he was just confused. It was the most casual kiss he’d ever shared with a guy but also the most complex. Truth be told, Blaine really liked kissing Kurt - but Kurt has only ever been a jerk to him and Blaine has too much self respect to go down that road.

Blaine isn’t surprised when Kurt isn’t in class when the bell rings. At this point, it is more surprising that he comes at all. But just like clockwork he walks in and hands a note to the teacher. What is the point of coming for the last 5 minutes? And he still doesn’t make any effort to take notes. How does he keep up?

It suddenly dawns on Blaine that Kurt has been having someone else do his work all this time. An email every week? How could Blaine had been so stupid! This is a disaster. If his partner is cheating it puts his own grade in jeopardy.

The bell rings and Kurt gets up to leave, giving Blaine a nod and walking out the door before Blaine can say anything.

He decides to send Kurt an email, asking him to meet in the library during lunch. He figures it is a long shot, Kurt probably won’t see it and probably isn’t even on campus later on today. Or maybe he spends his lunches smoking under the bleachers with Quinn. Tina said as much at the party.

When lunch comes Blaine goes straight to the library and parks himself at the large table near the front. He spends the first few minutes watching the door, then decides to just get some reading done.

He is only a few pages into The Catcher In The Rye when Kurt slides into the chair opposite him.

“You called,” he says dryly.

“Thank you for meeting me. We need to talk about our history project,” Blaine is all business. He goes over his plans and concerns for the project, outlining how he thinks it should be done. He has to take greater control and make sure the work they do from now on isn’t half from some kid Kurt is paying, or worse.

The problem is, the longer he talks to Kurt, the harder it is to focus. Today Kurt has on a tight black sweater with holes large enough to sink a finger into, exposing a gray tank top and some bits of skin underneath. His hair is in its usual swoop and his eyes look exceptionally light blue under the fluorescent lights. It isn’t long before the memories of Tina’s party overtake his thoughts. He struggles to get back on track.

“So that is my plan. I’d like us to stick to it as much as we can. Perhaps we can meet in the library afterschool to get it all together.”

“I don’t do after school,” Kurt replies.

“Yes, well, you clearly don’t do much at school either,” Blaine blurts out.

“I'm keeping up my part.” Kurt’s face has turned cold, his eyes subtly looking more gray as they stare Blaine down.

“Look, Kurt, I don’t want to be rude but I just think it is better if we just take care of things ourselves from here on out. I don’t mind doing more.”

“You don’t mind.” Kurt repeats.

“No, I don't mind the extra work,” Blaine smiles in agreement.

“No, you don’t mind being rude. Clearly. I guess I should have expected as much.”

Kurt is on his feet before Blaine can try and explain. He isn’t sure what to say, so he follows Kurt as he starts to walk out of the library.

“Kurt, please. I need to get an A in this class. I can’t let you risk that for me.” Blaine steps in front of Kurt and keeps talking. “If we get caught…”

“Doing what?” Kurt stares down at Blaine, still mad but also looking confused.

“Cheating,” Blaine whispers.

“You think I’m cheating?” For a moment, Blaine sees the hurt in Kurt’s eyes. “You asshole. I’m not cheating.”

Blaine shushes Kurt and grabs him by the arm, maneuvering them into a private spot between the shelves. For a moment they are pressed close together, breathing heated in each other’s faces. Kurt backs up and away from him, standing tall against the stack behind him.

“You aren’t?” Blaine has to ask again, the guilt of his accusation begins to seep in. He flops backwards into the shelf.

“I am not. I get the syllabus and I keep up on my own. It’s not that hard.” Kurt raises his chin, looking prideful and untouchable.

“I am sorry. I just thought, well, there is no excuse for that thought. You just never gave me any reason to see that you cared. I apologize.”

Kurt gives him a silent nod, relaxing his stiff stance a bit.

“In that case, let’s keep doing it the way we have been. You are missing out on things since you aren’t coming to class, but I can fill you in.”

“Fine.” Kurt looks Blaine up and down. The scrutiny of Kurt’s gaze feels intimate. The air between them shifts and Blaine is suddenly hit with another wave of bravery.

“Can we talk about what happened at Tina’s?”

“I’d rather not.” Kurt’s face is still, unreadable to Blaine.

“Why did you?” Blaine is undeterred.

Kurt doesn’t answer. He steps around Blaine and leaves.

Part 3: Winter

Even after their win at Sectionals the glee club remains in turmoil. There is some kind of feud going on between the teachers, so Ms. Sylvester has taken away the Cheerios who were filling in as dancers. Mr. Schuester retaliates by booking all the indoor practice rooms. Then there are rumors of something else happening in the teacher’s lounge and one day Mr. Schuester is adamant they do not sit on any of the chairs in the choir room.

This goes on for weeks, which is apparently normal for them. Blaine finds it highly distracting for the club and since some days they are left to fend for themselves when it comes to what to practice and how to get back to having 12 members for competition.

Back at Dalton, students would have been fighting for the remaining open spot. At McKinley, they seem to be waiting on a miracle. Those miracles come one at a time. Just before winter break, a new transfer student joins glee club. He is fine, if boring, and he can at least follow the footwork and carry a tune. He doesn’t even mind standing in the front row of Christmas caroling as they dodge the occasional shoe.

When school starts back up in January, it is buzzing with the news that Sam Evans has returned. He is too late to help the football team this season but is eager to return to glee. He is decently talented and the group is happy to welcome him back. They need more male voices to blend and Sam’s range fits right in the sweet spot. It doesn’t hurt that Sam is easy on the eyes either.

“Okay everyone. Let’s get this new year started off right. With Joe and Sam we have numbers to compete so we are setting our sights on Regionals!” Mr. Schuester is his regular pep talk self.

“Mr. Schue, if it is okay I have something I’d like to perform.” Sam takes a stool at the front of the room and gets out a guitar. He plays an acoustic version of “Human Nature” with his country styled vocals.

There is something about Sam that makes Blaine think he might be interested in guys. Blaine spends part of the song imagining dating a soft country boy like that. One with a cute smile and a kind heart. But when he breaks out of his daydream and watches Sam closely it is obvious he is singing directly to Mercedes.

***

For Blaine, the real trouble comes from Finn anyway. Football season ended with a dud and he seems desperate to get back on top. He has been monopolizing practice sessions and Rachel is happy to let him do it.

“I think I should do this,” Finn mimics some basic steps, lumbering across the auditorium stage. “And the rest of the guys can follow in two lines, doing the, the thing, Mike can you show them the thing?”

Mike obliges and shows the group a step touch move with a partial spin. It’s like Warblers 101. Blaine rolls his eyes.

“Ooh, but what if we added in this,” Sam suggests as he rolls his torso and sticks out his hips. “I learned that one in Kentucky.” He repeats the motion until Santana cuts in.

“Stop making me more gay,” she says.

Blaine suppresses a laugh by turning his head to the side, catching Mercedes eying Sam. He’s not sure if anything is going on yet, but it will be soon enough.

“Okay, enough,” Mr. Schuster cuts in. “We are sticking with the steps we all know, just switching it up for the music… once we figure out what that is. These moves are classic.”

Blaine shakes off his irritation. After months of being in this club, he has learned to roll with the punches. He knows that if he sticks with it he will still get some chances to shine.

By the time after school practice is done, Blaine is happy to get some space from the group. He doesn’t want to sing love songs, or do body rolls, or rap. The club is a mess and he needs to just get out of there. He takes his time packing up to leave to ensure everyone else has cleared out by the time he gets to the parking lot.

When he rounds the hallway corner, he sees Kurt talking to Ms. Sylvester. He backs up and listens in so he will know when the coast is clear.

“I’ve tried. She doesn’t want to.” Kurt says emphatically.

“You’ve tried? Oh, you’ve tried. Well if I had a dollar for every time someone had tried instead of getting it done I would have already had enough to bribe my mother’s way out of that goulag.”

“Look, Sue. We can’t make her. What more do you want from me?” Kurt spits out, then starts up again. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I just want to get through this.” His voice is wavering now, almost like he is on the verge of crying.

Blaine sneaks his head around the corner to get a better look.

“How’s he holding up?” Ms. Sylvester’s voice has gone soft. It’s something he has never heard from her.

“Better, lately. He is going too fast though. He fights me on it, but he still needs to take it easy.”

“I can come by and set him straight,” Sue offers.

“No, please don't, this is between us.”

“Fine, Nurse Ratched, but you have to be here more. That is for your own good.”

Blaine watches as Sue pats Kurt on the arm and they nod at each other. He retreats back around the corner before they see him. When he hears footsteps coming towards him, he turns and pretends to be opening a locker that isn’t his.

“What are you doing?” It is Kurt. Which, based on the options, feels like a relief.

“Just getting something out of my locker.” Blaine has always been a terrible liar. He plays with the lock to help sell the ruse.

“No, your locker is near our math class.”

“You know where my locker is?” Blaine asks as he turns around.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Kurt steps in close. It is equal parts threatening and thrilling.

“Accidentally, but I won’t say a word. I swear.” Blaine can smell the sweet scent of Kurt’s cologne.

Kurt stares into Blaine’s eyes, sizing him up.

“I believe you. But just know that if I get wind of this I will know it was you.” Kurt steps towards him again, a bit menacing but all Blaine can think about is how close his lips are. How easy it would be to close that gap and kiss him. He closes his eyes.

There is a coldness when Kurt steps away and leaves.

***

Rachel bounds into his room early. It is Saturday and Blaine was hoping to sleep in, but Rachel has news and is undeterred even as he pulls the covers over his head to stay in his cocoon.

“Wakey wakey, it is a beautiful morning and there is much to do,” she sing songs as she crosses the room towards him.

“There was, but I did it all last night. Let me sleep, Rach.” Blaine groans and turns away from her.

“What are you talking about?” She tilts her head to the side, as if this perspective will make his blanketed mass make more sense.

“I stayed up late doing homework so I could sleep in and enjoy my weekend. I’ve got plans later.”

“Oooh, plans with a boy?”

“Two boys,” Blaine says curtly. Rachel gasps and pulls the covers off his head.

“Blaine, you scoundrel. You cannot be galavanting around with multiple boys. Think of what this will do to my reputation.”

“Calm down, I’m meeting Artie and Mike later. Mercedes and Tina are coming, too. We are going bumper bowling.”

“Oh,” Rachel deflates. “Well, have fun with that. I will be on a date of my own. With Finn. We got back together last night.”

“Gross,” Blaine responds.

“Not like that. Well, sort of like that but not really.” Rachel sits on the edge of his bed. “He called me and we went to The Lima Bean. Just to talk, at first. He told me how much he has missed me, how hard it would have been to spend Valentine's Day without me. We decided to give it another go. When we kissed it was like fireworks, so we skipped the slow part and decided to pick up where we left off.”

“Rach, I really don’t want these details.” Blaine pleads.

“Not physically, romantically. We sang duets on the drive home and rekindled our amazing connection. Everything about this feels so right.” Her eyes are focused on something in her imagination, soft with a fondness.

“I’m happy for you,” Blaine says, squeezing her hand and trying not to be jealous.

He’s been dreading Valentine's Day for the past few weeks. Rather than wallow in his loneliness he has been focusing on projects. He is juggling chess, math, and glee club at school, plus fencing on the weekends. If he stays busy, he doesn’t have time to think about what he is missing.

***

Like all things at McKinley, tradition mixes with humiliation. The teachers here love to post notices and rankings for all to see. They really put the public in public school.

Coach Sylvester has something called the High Pony Chart that goes up every Thursday. It is a list of names of Cheerios and some number of points next to each one, causing tearful runs down the hall too many times to count.

This week the Mathlete lead team names will be posted. Hagberg picks the team based off of test scores and Blaine thinks he has a decent shot to be in the top group. The list has the top ten students in her advanced math classes, ranked into alpha and beta teams with a couple alternates.

“Is it up yet?” Artie says as he rolls up.

Blaine shakes his head. The two of them stand a few feet down the hall, watching for the moment Mrs. Hagberg posts the notice.

“So this will be your third year in a row?” Blaine asks.

“Yep, along with Tina and Make. If they make it. Be prepared for anger if you knock one of them out of the leader group. We alphas have to stick together.”

“What if I knock you out?” Blaine jokes.

“Don’t even speak it.” Artie puts his hand to Blaine’s face for emphasis. “Besides, you won’t. I haven’t gotten less than a 98% on all the tests and quizzes this whole year. I am in the top four for sure.” Artie sits up straight and brushes imaginary dust off his shoulder.

“Not to ruffle your feathers, but I am aiming to get valedictorian. I’ve got solid grades from Dalton and the classes here aren’t as challenging. I just need to keep it up through senior year, which I think I can. I’m well rounded.” Blaine tries not to sound too proud.

“You know there are a few of us tied for it, right? It’s been a friendly competition all this time. I hope you keep it that way.”

“I plan to. Ms. Pillsbury told me there was a group. She wouldn’t name names but I already know you, Mike, and Tina are all in the running. And if need be, I’m sure a 4 way could be arranged,” Blaine days.

“Don’t get Tina’s hopes up,” Artie jokes.

“Not what I meant. But it would sort of be cool to have the 4 glee clubbers stand up and get that honor at graduation. Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. If Mrs. Hagberg would just get this list posted…”

A gaggle of Cheerios walk down the hall in front of them, crossing their line of sight of the bulletin board. When they are gone, the math teacher is already walking away. A single sheet of white paper is pasted right in the middle of the board.

The two of them scurry forward to see the names. Two sets of four, with two alternates, just as expected. They breathe a sigh of relief as they read the first four names: Artie Abrams, Blaine Anderson, Michael Chang, and Tina Cohen-Chang. All of them are in the alpha group. The beta group are all underclassmen, names Blaine recognizes even if he doesn’t really know them. But the names of the alternates bring his eyebrows into his hairline: Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel.

“Is that Quinn with the pink hair?” Blaine asks to be sure. He doesn’t need to ask about Kurt. There is only one Kurt Hummel, in more ways than one. The fact that he is good at math is just another surprise.

***

There is a knock on his door but it is more of an announcement than a question. His dad doesn’t wait for an answer before coming in.

“Hey there, how’s it going?” His parents are looking casually around his room. Only his dad speaks. “Do you have a minute?”

“Fine, just finishing up a couple things for school,” Blaine responds.

“You seem more busy than before. Maybe I just didn’t see it when you boarded.” Hiram says. They both sit down on the edge of Blaine’s bed. It’s code for parent talk, so Blaine shuts his laptop and turns to face them fully. His father’s face tells him this is a bit serious, even as his dad tries to strike a casual tone. “We need to talk to you about something, well some things.”

“Yes, things,” LeRoy agrees.

“We should have done this a while ago,” Hiram starts. He rubs his palms on his legs, then stands and starts to talk, then sits again. “It has been a while since we had The Talk. And you are due for an updated version.”

“Overdue,” his father adds.

“No, not overdue. I’m good in fact. Dalton had an excellent health office and they provided plenty of information. And there’s the internet,” Blaine supplies helpfully. He is hoping to keep this conversation short but at the mention of the internet his father’s eyes go wide and he puts his head in his hands.

“It’s not… like you see on the internet,” LeRoy says.

“Hush, we don’t know what he has seen on the internet,” Hiram says. “Blaine, we love you and we are here to support you and keep you safe. So we wanted to go over some basics. Your father is right, the internet can send you in all the wrong directions. And don’t even get me started on the inaccuracies of porn…”

“Please, dads, please do not tell me about porn.” Blaine pleads.

“Oh thank god,” his father says, head still buried in his hands. He raises up and turns to his husband. “Let’s just stick to the basics, like we planned.”

“Yes, good, yes. The basics. So, let’s start with being safe.”  He pulls a couple small boxes from his cardigan pocket. “These are for you. Keep them somewhere private, but somewhere you can get to them if you need them. If you need more, just let us know. We will replenish no questions asked.”

Blaine doesn’t believe anyone in the family can do things with no questions asked, but he takes the supplies with a soft thank you and places them on his desk.

“Okay, so what you might be doing with them can really vary. Do you have any experience?”

Not only is that a question, but it is the question Blaine was dreading.

“No, dads. Not really. Just some kissing. Nothing serious. And I certainly don’t have any prospects at McKinley.” The words sound pitiful coming out of his mouth but they are true. He had only a few sloppy kisses in his past, some very light grinding at a party, and mostly just his hand. He certainly isn’t going to mention the latter.

“Well you’re a handsome young man with a bright future. I’m sure prospects will start opening up. Maybe someone at school.” Hiram smiles at Blaine, trying to be encouraging.

“You don’t need to be his wingman for chrissakes, dear,” LeRoy says. “Blaine, son, it is totally fine to be a virgin until college. That is how I did it and look at me now. I’m married, happy, stable, and very much in love.” He flashes a warm glance to Hiram.

“Dad, please. Are we done?” Blaine wants to be anywhere but in this moment. It is awkward enough having to talk about sex with his parents, but even more they are reminding him how utterly alone he is. His dad’s words haunt him. Shouldn’t he be dating by now? He’s not secluded away at small Dalton anymore. He is in the big wide world of regular teenagers and yet… nothing. Why doesn’t anyone want to date him?

“We still need to talk about the mechanics,” Hiram says.

“Oh my god,” Blaine replies. “Please, Dad. Father, make him stop. There must be a website or something.”

“Calm down, I have pamphlets.” He pulls another small pile from his other pocket. “Now these will tell you the basics of how to do what. You’ll need to experience things and try out what you like. Don’t go into this thinking there is only one way. There are lots of ways. And everything is sex. Everything. It doesn’t have to be penetration to count.”

“Oh my god, Dad. Shh! Is Rachel home?”

“No, she’s out with that tall boyfriend again.” LeRoy says and then turns to Hiram. “You did get those other pamphlets, right?”

“Yes, dear, we’re covered.”

Blaine’s own embarrassment wanes at the thought of his dads giving The Talk to his sister. The pamphlets are probably different, he imagines. Maybe.

“We know you have been keeping busy with everything at school. Lots of clubs and trying to keep your grades up. But please take a look at these and come talk to us afterward, when you are ready and comfortable.”

“Not sure that I’ll ever feel comfortable,” Blaine says. He looks at his parents, they look back at him hopefully and a bit scared. He knows how hard their generation had it. How much they must worry about him. How lucky they are to be in this moment, safe and committed, with a family. “Thanks dads.”

“We love you, Blaine,” his father says. They stand to leave, each giving him a hug on their way out.

***

Even though Blaine is clearly a better performer, Finn assumes himself the lead now that he and Rachel are back together. Sure, Blaine doesn’t want to sing a love song to his sister - but there are plenty of great songs they can choose that don’t involve having moon eyes across the stage.

As the song selections for Regionals narrow, Finn pushes for more love songs in an obvious attempt to unseat Blaine. He tries not to let it get to him. His merit should win out, even though Mr. Schuester clearly plays favorites. It’s the reason the other girls in the group barely get to sing at all.

For the most part, Blaine is actually relieved that they are doing extra practice in advance of Regionals. He doesn’t even mind staying at school late to make sure they are polished. From what Tina had told him about previous years, he wasn’t sure if there would be a plan at all. Besides, if the hype on the show choir blogs is to be believed, the New Directions could have some competition for this round.

It is late by the time Blaine gets to his car. The parking lot is nearly full, but empty of people, since a wrestling match is going on in the gym.

He is looking forward to getting home and taking a shower. But when he puts his key in the ignition the car doesn’t start. The battery is totally dead. He must have left his lights on. Blaine gets out of the car and searches his trunk for jumper cables. Maybe someone from the event will give him a hand.

“In trouble again?” Kurt’s voice rings out behind him and Blaine goes still. Dammit, his hair is probably a mess and he is sticky with sweat.

“I left the lights on,” Blaine says. “I need a jump.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them. Images of Kurt and those pamphlets flash through his mind.

“Hang on, I’ll come help you out. Lauren’s meet isn’t for a bit yet.”

Moments later an old truck pulls up next to him. Kurt pops Blaine’s hood and then goes to work. He takes the cables from Blaine and instructs him when to start up his car. The engine roars back to life and Kurt motions for him to leave it running.

“Thanks,” Blaine says as he watches Kurt finish up. He gets out of the car and goes to help. “You really saved me.”

“That’s two you owe me then,” Kurt smirks.

Blaine isn’t following. He must have a dumbfounded look on his face as Kurt continues.

“One with the car, one at the party. I save you any more and I’m gonna need a punch card.” Kurt smiles at Blaine, his attempts at levity come off a bit dorky but Blaine doesn’t mind.

“Yeah, I’m really glad I did not have to kiss Finn.”

“Me, too.” Kurt gives him a wink and walks away towards the gym. “Leave that engine running for about 10 minutes,” he shouts back over his shoulder.

Part 4: Pretty Good

The week leading up to Regionals is exhausting. Half of the club is fighting and most of them don’t know the basic footwork. They split into warring factions, battle lines are drawn based on who is dating whom, who is the hungriest for a solo, and who just wants to start trouble. Some of them fall into multiple categories.

Blaine tries to stay above the fray, but he really hopes he gets some kind of spotlight this time. The club’s achievement will look good on his record, he needs this for himself. There are things he has been bottling up that only a performance can release.

Mr. Schuester decides to just post a set list and let the chips fall where they may. After the drama has died down, Blaine is happy with it. Even though Rachel and Finn are still given the leads, he is featured heavily in two songs. Santana had offered to ‘pull a Nomi’ so they could get the featured duet but Blaine asked her not to. He suspects she might have been serious.

Blaine spends so much time with these kids, their oddities have become familiar and endearing. That is, when they aren’t maddening. Sometimes he feels right at home, other times being in the crush of that group is lonely. So many of them are dating. He doesn’t have anyone close to him like that. Instead, he watches from the outside as he sees other kids have the things he wants.

He hooks into the speakers and sings along to “Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall.” He spins and slides, moving his tired feet in search of that high. The song erupts out of every part of him, shedding some of his worries and letting his heart be light. But when the music ends it is just him alone on the stage again. He knows there is a happiness out there for him, he needs to find someone to share that with.

***

When Blaine gets to second period on Monday Kurt is there. It’s an especially cold February morning so his jacket is zipped up tight, his look complete with a squared off gray scarf and matching beanie. His regular intimidating look is softened by the cozy layers. With his cheeks reddened from the cold, Kurt is downright cute.

“Good morning,” Blaine greets as he sits down.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Kurt replies. He sips at what must be coffee and tries to suppress a yawn.

Class starts up and Blaine gives his full attention to Ms. Holiday as she goes through the material. Eventually, they break off into their teams to devise questions for the class discussion. That part is easy since Blaine and Kurt are both over prepared.

“So, I guess we’ll be seeing even more of each other next month,” Blaine says.

“Why, are you looking to get a job rotating tires for spring break?” Kurt asks.

“No, mathlete practice. And I get to meet the mysterious Quinn. Word on the street is she might be made of mist.” Blaine jokes, wiggling his fingers and widening his eyes.

“Yeah, not likely. We’re alternates. Those other kids would rather lose a limb than miss out on the contest. You don’t need us.”

There is something in Kurt’s face that belies his cool exterior, he looks almost hurt.

“But we might. And it would be nice to spend some time with you, maybe get to know Quinn a bit more.” He tries his best to be friendly and nonchalant.

“I can think of a million better ways to get to know each other,” Kurt sounds almost flirty.

Suddenly the room feels very hot. Blaine tries to play it cool but fails.

“Math games are fun,” he replies and instantly regrets it. Thankfully, it makes Kurt chuckle.

“They decidedly are not. I’m on that team in name only. I can list it on my college application and not have to go. It’s a win-win for me. Especially now there is another fucker in the running for valedictorian.” Kurt eyes Blaine.

“Oh, you, too?” He gulps.

“Yes, surprised?”

“I don’t want to say yes, but clearly I already admitted as much when I accused you of cheating. Look, Kurt, I’m sorry about how we started off.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I’m fine. You're just really tightly wound. Normally I find people like that annoying but it kinda works for you,” Kurt says with a smile.

“Um, thanks?” Blaine decides to take it as a compliment.

***

Even with just a few groups competing, Regionals is an all day affair. He can’t watch all of the performances but he can keep up with the blogs. There are a few other midwestern bloggers at the event, nearly all from rival choirs so the commentary can get pretty spicy at times. From what he has read, The Golden Goblets are their only real competition.

Blaine cannot help but check his phone for more posts after New Directions’ turn on stage. Goldengay is gushing not just about his singing but also that he looked cute in his costume. It’s nice to get a compliment, so he posts something nice about all the groups while they wait for the judges to make their decision.

Another post from Goldengay comes in a few minutes later, complimenting the different styles of the groups and saying how jealous he is because the Golden Goblets don’t do modern songs. Then Blaine gets a direct message.

Goldengay: Are you the brunette in New Directions who sang the second song?

Blaine: That’s me. Thanks for the nice comments. Even though we are rivals, I appreciate the support. The competition is stiff today. The Goblets sounded really good.

Goldengay: Cool. You were totally right about Aural Intensity. They really pandered.

Blaine: I hate to be harsh, but it is true. Oh, they are calling us back to the stage! See you out there.

The risers have been removed and the stage is flat for the awards. Blaine stands midway down the long line of New Directions. He pokes his head out to see the Golden Goblets across the stage, wondering which one of them he had been messaging with. A tall boy with blond curly hair waves at him. That must be him. Blaine gives a small wave back. Rachel catches sight of him and brings his hand down to hold hers. She is holding Finn’s tightly on the other side, her eyes are closed in deep focus.

When New Directions wins, the group explodes, jumping and screaming with joy. Santana is saying something in Spanish to the other team. Mr. Schuester crosses the stage to shake hands with the other coaches while Finn grabs the trophy and holds it high overhead. The moment is electric.

As the excitement draws down, Blaine sees the blond coming his way.

“Hi, I’m Jeremiah,” he says as he extends his hand.

Blaine takes it and gives a friendly shake in return. Jeremiah is taller than him by a couple inches. The stage lights create a bit of a halo around his golden hair and that silly pillow shaped hat. Their costumes are ridiculous, straight out of a renaissance painting, but even still Blaine takes in how handsome he is.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Blaine.”

“Oh, I know. It’s nice to meet you, though these circumstances kinda suck for me.”

“Well maybe I can make it up to you. We could get coffee sometime.” Blaine blurts out. His polite manners, the excitement of the moment, and the cute boy in front of him have made him impulsive. God, he hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate.

“I’d like that. I gotta get back to my group but you can message me. Congrats on the win!” Jeremiah gives him a big smile as he walks away.

Blaine turns back to his friends to see both Rachel and Santana giving him judgemental looks.

“What?” He says. “It’s not like he is competition anymore.” Blaine bounces on his feet and turns to high five Mike, Tina, Artie, and Mercedes. Now that the moment is over he lets himself relax into the win. It feels good.

***

When teams at Dalton would win at competition, they would get a round of congratulations from the administration and a special recognition at the lunch assembly. At McKinley, only the sports teams get that kind of celebration. Instead, Mr. Schuester reads them the short note of congratulations from Principal Figgins.

“May you continue your path towards victory, and towards the light of goodness that each of you possess. Go Titans!” he reads. “Oh, and there is a $15 Breadstix gift certificate attached. Not sure who that is for…” he trails off.

“I’ll take it,” Santana announces, as she walks up and grabs it.

“Okay, well, let’s just move on. You guys did great this weekend. I am really proud of you. Now we are going to have to really bring it for Nationals. Our vocals are strong but our choreo could use some work. Everybody down to the front, let’s do some warm ups.” He claps his hands and motions them all closer.

The steps are routine and Blaine’s mind starts to wander. He is already halfway through his junior year. In some ways, school is going well. He is getting good grades, his teams are winning, and he has made some friends. But he can’t ignore the romance shaped hole in his heart.

His phone vibrates in his pocket but he doesn’t dare check it during practice. When he does, he finds two different messages. The first one is from David. There is a get together at Dalton this weekend to celebrate the fencing team and they want Blaine to come. The second is from Jeremiah who is asking Blaine about meeting up for coffee on Saturday.

Suddenly, things are looking up.

***

Blaine is in his room putting the last touches on his outfit when Rachel comes in. She makes herself at home on his bed, laying across it long ways and hanging her head backwards off the edge.

“Do you ever wonder about how you will be remembered? Like, if you died right now, what would people say about you?”

“Hopefully good things,” he responds.

“I imagine the headlines. Talented ingenue struck down in her prime, survived by her grieving husband and adoring fans.”

“You’re married?”

“To, Finn, yes. He and I move to New York together. It is all part of my plan.” She says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Finn doesn’t really strike me as a New York kinda guy,” Blaine says.

“He will be, for me. I have to be in the heart of the action, and we have to be together.” She lifts her head to address him head on, adding urgency and determination to her point. “This is true love.”

Blaine nods his head at her but honestly cannot imagine it. She has her whole life planned out, including with a partner. He feels like he is just starting out on a path she is at the end of.

“Can you keep a secret? Actually, I know you can’t. But, please, keep this just between us.” Blaine gives her an earnest look. “I’m not going straight to the party tonight. I have a date first.”

Rachel gasps. She lives for drama. “Who with?”

“Jeremiah, from the Goblets.”

Rachel gasps again. “That is treason!”

“No it's not. We already beat them at Regionals.” Blaine goes back to tying his bowtie in the mirror. “And before you say anything I am sure he is not doing recon for some other group. That kind of drama only happens to you. I found a nice guy who wants to go on a date. Be happy for me.”

“I am,” she says. “I just. I hope he is good enough for you. You are my one and only brother and I want the best for you. Is he a tenor?”

‘Believe it or not, we have not discussed that. But I am sure I will find out. Who knows, after today I might even have a duet partner.” Blaine lets out a hopeful sigh as he imagines the possibilities.

“Well then, let’s get you looking sharp. You need someone who can keep up with you vocally and project the right image. Success is about what you can show as well as what you can do.” She gets up and meets him at the mirror to adjust his tie. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

She leaves and Blaine stares at himself in the mirror. He knows she means well, even if she thinks she knows what is best for him without bothering to ask. He is looking for a real connection, not just someone everyone else will like. He readjusts his tie to how he had it before.

***

Blaine gets to the Lima Bean 10 minutes early. It gives him time to scope out a good table with a bit of privacy. He has a clear line of sight to the door, so he watches for Jeremiah to arrive.

He sees Jeremiah in the parking lot. It gives him time to adjust his posture and facial expression. He waves to him as he enters.

“Oh, hey there. Have you been waiting long?” Jeremiah asks politely.

“No, just saving a good table. Thanks for meeting me here. I’m on my way to Westerville later and this place is on the way.”

“It’s not a problem. You’re worth it.” Jeremiah flashes him a big smile and what Blaine thinks is a wink. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please. A medium drip, with cinnamon. Thank you.” Blaine tries to tone down his excitement about a boy buying him coffee. He kicks his feet a little under the table as Jeremiah walks up to the counter. It’s nice to get a good view of him. His clothes are nice, pretty standard stuff though. Blaine wonders if he is overdressed, or if his date would even be able to tell. He slips off his Barbour jacket and hangs it on his chair before he comes back.

“Here you are,” he says, handing Blaine his drink. “And, I got us this, to share.”

It is an iced cookie. Blaine’s heart warms at the gesture.

They get to talking and it feels nice. Jeremiah does some obvious flirting and Blaine flirts right back. They talk about their interests and Blaine learns that Jeremiah just started blogging that past year. He knows a lot about Blaine through his blog. It feels good to be interesting to him, to be wanted.

Time passes quickly and eventually it is time to go.

“This has been really great,” Blaine says.

In truth it has been mostly just fine but he doesn’t want to shoot this in the foot. Besides show choir blogging, they don't have much in common. Blaine tells himself that good relationships grow into each other, just look at his dads. He starts to tidy up the table, brushing his hand against Jeremiahs. It isn’t fireworks but it does cement that he is real.

“Look, I’ll be honest here. I think you are really attractive. I like reading your blog and talking with you is great. I really hope we can do this again sometime… soon.” Jeremiah gets up and puts on his coat. “I’ll message you.”

***

Blaine hadn’t been at Dalton for a few months. It was cool to hang out with some of his buddies again but stepping back onto the campus felt different, like he was on the outside looking in. Dalton wasn’t his place anymore. Still, he had a good time. The group is much less dramatic than his new show choir.

In the end, he felt a fondness for Dalton, but not a pull. He was making a new home at McKinley instead. The drive home gives him plenty of time to sing along to his music and let his thoughts wander. His date with Jeremiah had gone fairly well and he is ready to take that next step. Or, at least, give it a chance.

He’s on the long, empty stretch on the outskirts of town when his engine starts to sputter. He hears a few unfamiliar noises and then it just shuts off. Blaine pumps the brakes and slowly steers it to the edge of the road.

His dads are long since asleep and he doesn’t want to bother them. He gets out his phone and calls the number for AAA. They assure him a local truck is just 10 minutes away. He settles into his seat and plays a game on his phone while he waits.

Finally, a pair of headlights shine in the distance. Blaine can hear the engine, louder than a standard car and hopefully the help he needs. The road he is on has been mostly deserted for the past half hour. Blaine gets out of his car to meet the tow truck. The lights are still blinding when the driver steps out. A moment of quiet panic suddenly overtakes him. He is all alone out here. Who knows what kind of person that is? Blaine straightens his spine and puffs up his chest, hoping to fake enough courage to get him through this.

A silhouetted figure climbs out from the cab, looking seven feet tall from this perspective. Blaine can make out broad shoulders and short hair. But the figure is more than just imposing, it is alluring. The curve of their arms and the flow of their steps awakens something in Blaine.

“Oh god, not now,” he says to himself. The last thing he needs is to be smitten with some meathead. He is halfway to having a boyfriend for fucks sake.

“What kinda trouble have you got?” The voice that rings out is strong but high. Clear and crisp over the sound of the idling engine. As the figure walks closer the silhouette shrinks to something closer to his own size. He can hear heavy boots crunching on the snow as the figure approaches.

Blaine sucks in a breath as it comes into focus. Kurt, in a pair of coveralls and a leather jacket. He’s got one hand on his hip and another flashlight in the other. He looks menacing and gorgeous all at once, like a spread fashion magazine. Blaine imagines him perched on the footboard, leaning outward from an open door, and plunging his long lines towards the viewer. He shakes his head to clear it. He has got to get over this.

“I’m not sure. The car was sort of making a noise and then it just stopped.” Blaine has never been good with cars. He prides himself on being a great driver but that is about it. Two summers ago his dad had suggested they restore a car together, but that project got abandoned after a couple weeks. Neither of them had been enjoying it so his dad went back to working more and Blaine retreated to his room to listen to music instead.

“They do tend to do that. Pop the hood. Let’s see if it is something easy.”

Blaine does and Kurt gets to work, shining his flashlight around the engine and humming to himself. He puts on his gloves and digs his hands around in a few places. He is illuminated by the light bouncing off the car and Blaine watches him intently as he works. Kurt puts the small flashlight in his mouth to use both hands on something. The image sends another shiver down Blaine’s spine.

“How about I hold that for you,” Blaine offers. It gives him a reprieve from the visual and lets him be of use. Both are better than standing there staring at Kurt. He stands next to him, closer than they’ve ever been as Kurt pokes around some more. All too quickly, the investigation is complete.

“Well all your hoses and belts seem to be fine. It could be a wire or spark plugs gone bad. Tell me you did not run out of gas.” Kurt sounds both annoyed and playful. Blaine isn’t sure what to make of it.

“I promise I did not.”

“Scout’s honor?” Kurt teases.

“What makes you say that?”

“You just seem like the scout type. Always so earnest and prepared.” Kurt takes the flashlight back and closes the hood. “The bad news is, whatever you have going on I can’t fix on the side of the road. The good news is, the shop is just a couple miles away and I can give you a tow. Or you can stay out here in the cold until someone comes and hope the cops don’t tow your car first.”

“I’ll take the former. Could I perhaps get a ride to the shop with you? I’ll call my folks to meet me there.”

“Sure thing. It’ll take me a few minutes to get you hooked up. We’ll be at the shop in twenty minutes. It is 2556 Elinda. Only a moron could miss the sign.”

Blaine takes a few steps away to call home. His dad grumbles a bit about going back out this time of night but ensures Blaine that he can be there in 45 minutes.

“No rush on my end. My dad can’t come for forty-five minutes,” Blaine informs Kurt.

“Yeah, well, there is a rush on my end. It’s cold as fuck out here.” Kurt climbs back in the truck and moves it in front of Blaine’s car. He lowers the bar and grabs some chains, then lays underneath the car to get everything set up.

Blaine decides the best thing for him is to look at something on his phone. He doesn’t need to remember Kurt writhing around on the ground. He needs something to purge this silly crush from his head. He scrolls through the show choir blogs for something new.

The ride to the shop is uneventful. Blaine keeps his head down and in his phone. Kurt hums along to some song Blaine doesn’t know. It’s a strangely companionable silence.

The neon sign for Hummel Tires & Lube shines brightly as they get closer. Kurt brings the truck into the parking lot and skillfully backs Blaine’s car into a spot, then jumps out to disconnect his truck.

“Okay, out you go,” Kurt says. He makes a shooing motion as Blaine climbs down from his seat.

Unsure of what to do, Blaine goes and stands by his car. He checks the time. His dad is probably at least 20 minutes away. Aside from the light from the sign, the parking lot is dark. The coldness starts to sink in.

“Want to heat up?” Kurt asks.

A million scenarios run through Blaine’s head.

“I’ve got some coffee inside. It has been sitting out but it started out good so it has some hope.” Kurt’s face is softer than Blaine is used to, he is almost smiling.

“Yeah, sure, that would be great.”

Blaine follows Kurt inside and into the back office. Kurt motions for him to have a seat on the soft leather couch. There is a pile of familiar textbooks on the table next to it. The room smells of motor oil and dust, but also a hint of sandalwood. Kurt moves around the room, grabbing mugs for each of them and pouring them what is left in the pot. He takes a seat in the chair across from Blaine.

“Bottoms up,” he says as he drinks his.

Blaine watches as Kurt drinks. The long line of his throat, the size of his hand on the mug, the way his eyes close as he swallows - it is almost too much. Blaine turns his attention to his own cup. The coffee is good, definitely a few hours old but he has no complaints. He relaxes back onto the couch and checks his phone. His dad should be here soon.

When he looks up, Kurt is staring at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Blaine asks, wiping off the sides of his mouth nervously.

“I like the way you paired that Barbour jacket with the Gant sweater. You’re cute,” Kurt says.

Blaine nearly chokes on his next sip.  He freezes, caught between processing the fact that Kurt knows fashion and the fact that he just called him cute.

“What?” Blaine asks, knowing full well what Kurt had said.

“You’re cute. Handsome, in fact.” Kurt’s face is still, his eyes intent on Blaine.

“Um, thanks. You are, too. Handsome I mean. Very handsome.” Blaine places his mug on the floor, unsure of what to do with his hands.

Kurt crosses the room and sits on the couch, leaning in.

“Well then, I think we should make the most of this.” Kurt leans in further. He places a hand on Blaine’s thigh and looks into Blaine’s eyes, a silent question hangs in the air.

“This is a terrible idea,” Blaine blurts out.

“Why?” Kurt retreats a bit, not fully out of Blaine’s space but enough for some breathing room.

“Because I am very sensitive and lonely. And you are very attractive. I will fall in love with you.” Blaine cannot help but bare his soul. “I don’t think I am built for messing around. I tried that before, and got my heart broken, bad. I didn’t even like him as much as I like you. You are… a lot.”

Blaine looks back at Kurt, considering his options. It is hard to turn down Kurt’s offer. The pull he feels towards him is strong as ever. Blaine leans in and kisses Kurt. The kiss is electric. They move quickly from soft kisses to full on making out. Kurt throws one of his long legs over Blaine and crawls into his lap.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yes, very much,” Blaine responds quickly before he dives in for another kiss.

He can feel Kurt writhing a little bit in his lap. Everything is hot and moving very quickly. Blaine is fully hard and there is no way Kurt cannot feel it. Kurt trails a hand down his chest and asks again if it is okay. Blaine nods and Kurt continues down, rubbing his hand on Blaine’s bulge. Blaine’s brain buzzes with options from the pamphlets. There are so many things he wants in this moment.

Suddenly, lights flash in from the front window. Blaine’s phone dings with a text from his dad.

“I have to go.”

***

The next morning Blaine’s dad calls the shop to see about the car. They have the part and it can be ready by closing time. Which also means Blaine has all Saturday to worry about it. Something almost happened with Kurt last night. There was an energy there, between them.

He tries on a few different outfits before settling on something that makes him look good without trying too hard.

“So, Blaine, how was the old Dalton crew?” Hiram makes light conversation on the drive. It is in his nature to ask a few questions but try not to pry first thing.

“Good, David and Wes are varsity fencing this year. There are lots of new Warblers. And Jeff is still trying to date half of Crawford Country Day.”

“Varsity, you say? Do you miss it?”

“Sort of. The Lima club is pretty good though. I’ll get more competitions in with them this season. I think my chances are good.”

Blaine is happy to talk about something he cares about that doesn’t reveal too much. He always wants to keep a bit of himself private. His dads seem to be always waiting for the best chance to ask an awkward question.

“Are the boys at McKinley cuter?”

“Dad!” Blaine buries his face in his hands.

“Your sister seems to think so. I swear she likes them kinda dumb. Anything that gives her an edge, I suppose. Her dance card has been full these last couple years.”

“Can we not?”

“Sure, Blaine,” he continues. “But your father and I just want to make sure you are happy. There must be at least a couple half decent suitors for you in public school. Maybe there is a himbo in your future.” His dad waggles his eyebrows and Blaine tries to melt through the floorboard of the car.

“If you must know, no, there are no himbos. Or anyone really.” Thoughts of Kurt flash through Blaine’s head. Possibly the most gorgeous guy at McKinley and definitely the most off limits, or so he thought. He doesn’t really know what last night meant to Kurt.

“Well I hope you get some chances before you leave for college. Your father and I need to have some fun judging your boyfriends, too.” He smiles playfully at Blaine as they arrive at the shop.

It occurs to Blaine that his dad will pick up on his crush. He offers to wait in the car but his dad insists that Blaine needs to know ‘how these things work’ and ushers him inside.

There isn’t anyone at the counter. Blaine taps the bell and it rings out across the expansive garage. An older gentleman approaches, whipping his hands on a cloth.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Hi. Um, my car was towed here last night. You repaired it today. A green Toyota.” Blaine looks around for Kurt and does not see him. He feels both disappointed and a bit more relaxed that he is not there.

“Kurt pick you up?” he asks, his head tilting just slightly to the side as if assessing Blaine.

“Yes. It was Kurt.” It feels like an indictment on his tongue.

“Let me grab the invoice.” The man fumbles around under the counter through some files. Blaine notices him straining a bit as he moves. “Here we are. That’ll be $280 for the tow, parts, and labor. I just need some contact info for your invoice.”

“Go ahead and give him yours, Blaine. I’ll pay but you should be on file at the shop in case you need an oil change in the future.”

Hiram hands him the pen on the counter. Blaine fills out his address and phone number, and adds his dad’s name to the form as the backup contact.

“Hiram Berry?” The man asks. “You have a daughter by that name? My girlfriend's kid is dating a girl who always introduces herself with her full name. Couldn’t forget it if I tried.” The man’s face is kind. He doesn’t seem to hold any judgment and honestly it is refreshing to have someone talk about his sister with a bit of kindness.

“That’s my sister.” Blaine smiles back at him.

“Small world,” his dad says. “Though our little Rachel does like to make her mark.”

“Well Lima is a small town. Just how I like it,” he replies.

“Nice to meet you, um…” Hiram realizes he did not catch the man’s name.

“Burt Hummel. Owner and operator.” The man extends his hand for them to shake.

Blaine stares at the man in front of him. This is Kurt’s dad. And Kurt’s dad is dating Finn’s mom. Why didn’t Rachel mention this to him before? What kind of weird soap opera is this town?

***

Blaine’s phone pings with a text on Sunday night.

This week’s reading might be the most boring so far.

He does not recognize the number. It isn’t someone he’s saved in his phone.

If Ms. Holiday acts this out I might be gone all week.

It is Kurt. Blaine isn’t sure how to respond.

Blaine: How did you get my number?

Kurt: Oh, I have my secrets.

Blaine: You mean you took it from work.

Kurt: Maybe…

Blaine hesitates but his curiosity is too strong.

Blaine: Well it was an enlightening trip for me as well. I think I met your dad. Apparently you, Finn, and now Rachel are family.

Kurt: Gross. We are not. Finn is around sometimes now that our folks started dating again. I stay in my room.

Blaine: And here I thought you were wild. Now I learn your Friday nights are work and your Sundays are schoolwork. Which one of us is the nerd now?

Kurt: Still you. Besides, I went out last night. Scandals sucks but it's the best we’ve got while we’re stuck here.

Blaine had teased about Friday hoping to get a reaction from Kurt. When he doesn’t, he plays along.

Blaine: Scandals?

Kurt: The gay bar in West Lima. Have you never been??

Blaine is bummed to hear that. He wonders if what happened between them is nothing special to Kurt.

Blaine: I haven’t had the pleasure.

Kurt: Well you are missing out. We should go sometime.

Why is Kurt being so chummy? It was so unlike him. It occurs to Blaine that maybe it isn’t Kurt at all. Maybe Santana got his number from Tina and she’s playing a joke on him. He decides to cut the conversation short.

Blaine: Gotta run. My dads need me downstairs.

Blaine turns off his phone and plugs it in on his nightstand. What was that?

***

Kurt is at Blaine’s locker the next morning. He is leaning against a row of them with his foot propped up. The pose accentuates all of his good features, even if he is blocking people from getting to their stuff. If this is Kurt flirting, then Blaine is going to flirt back.

“So now you get to fill me in about how we might end up related if Rachel and Finn get married,” Blaine smirks.

“The horror,” Kurt shudders in response. “Luckily, I doubt they will make it. And if they do, and Dad and Carole get married first, then you will just be my stepbrother’s wife’s brother. We should hook up at the wedding.”

“Not really my style. I’m a classy romantic.” He remembers the feel of Kurt in his lap, maybe he isn’t either of those things afterall. The fact is he is sort of seeing something else and he was pretty ready to do whatever with Kurt at the tire shop.

“Too bad,” Kurt smirks at him.

Blaine isn’t sure what to do, so he changes the subject. “I googled Scandals. It looks sub par.”

“Oh it is, but none of the fucks from this place go there, and they believe my Hawaiian drivers liscene. Nice to meet you, I’m Chazz.” Kurt extends a hand for Blaine to shake. “I can get you one, too. I know a guy.”

“Is it Puck?” Blaine asks.

“No, well, sort of. Anyway we should go to Drag Queen Wednesday. It is so bad it’s good.”

This is the most friendly Kurt has ever been. Honestly, it might be the most Kurt has ever talked to him in one sitting.

“So, Drag Queen Wednesday? Would that be…” Blaine hesitates, unsure how to put it without sounding stupid. “A date?”

“I don’t date,” Kurt responds. “But we could have fun, if you’re up for it.”

Kurt is leaning into his space again. Blaine feels deliciously pinned between Kurt’s frame and his open locker. It would not take much to close the space between them right now and kiss Kurt. He wonders if that would be okay. Kurt’s eyes are on him and it certainly feels okay.

Suddenly, his eyes are gone and looking down the hall.

“You should go. Your attack poodle is waiting.” Kurt motions to Rachel coming down the hall.

“I know she can be a lot, but what is your problem with her?”

“You’ve met her, right?” Kurt jokes and walks away.

Before he knows it, Rachel is talking right in his face.

“Blaine I know you are swept up in the classic bad boy mystique but be careful. They only break your heart. Trust me, I know.” Rachel is emphatic, placing her hand on his and looking him square in the eye.

“He’s not all that bad.”

“Suit yourself. A tortured romance can be good for the creative journey. As an artist, I can relate. As a sister, I cannot support it.”

Part 5: Pretty Bad

There is still a chill in the air. Blaine shivers a bit, mostly from nerves as he waits outside the theater.

He is eager to see Jeremiah again, in the flesh. Blaine has gotten to know him pretty well through his blogs and texts. Now he wants to learn more, the kind of things you can only learn in person. Not just the feel of his hands or the taste of his lips, he needs to feel that spark of real connection.

He has played the scenario over in his head an embarrassing amount of times. He parked on the far side of the lot to ensure they have the opportunity to walk together with a bit of privacy. Blaine fully intends to kiss him tonight.

Jeremiah ends up getting there just as it is time to go in. They make small talk at the concession stand, then find some good seats. At first, Blaine suggested the back row of the theater under the guise of being able to look down at the screen. But his date wanted to sit right in the middle, so manners won out over his alternate plans. Besides, they could still hold hands.

Blaine waits until the time is right, then lightly intertwines his pinky with Jeremiah’s. The touch is simple but it takes all of his attention away from the movie. He turns to see his date looking at him with a smile, so he reaches out and grabs his hand fully, holding it on his own leg to not seem to forward. Their hands stay interlaced until the credits.

As they walk out of the theater, Blaine walks briskly to get them away from the crowds. They get out into the crisp night air and walk together towards his car, excitedly talking about the movie. As they walk, their bodies get closer and more daring. Their hands brush and Jeremiah grabs hold. When they reach the car, they turn to face each other. Small clouds float around them as they breathe into the night air. Blaine leans forward a bit and closes his eyes.

Lips. Soft, firm, wanting lips brush against his. What starts with pecks flows into licks and a tongue sweeps across his lips and plunges into his mouth. It is different from kissing Kurt. He had hoped to feel it in his bones, but this kiss stays right on the edge of nice. It feels good though, so Blaine throws his arms around his date’s neck and deepens the kiss. Their bodies fall back into his car and Blaine is pinned between cold metal and a warm body.

Lights flash in the distance and they break apart, looking around to ensure they haven’t been seen. Blaine is sad the kiss is over just when he hoped it was going somewhere. Maybe he was too much in his own head. He can’t shake the comparison to Kurt.

“Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?” Blaine asks hopefully.

“Yes, but I can’t. My curfew is soon. Maybe next time? There is a drive-in out by my house. It’s mostly deserted.” Jeremiah’s intentions are pretty clear.

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine says. He places a quick kiss to Jeremiah’s lips, then leans back against the car and bats his eyelashes. “How much time have we got tonight?”

“Just enough for this,” Jeremiah says as he moves back in. His tongue is instantly in Blaine’s mouth, probing around. It feels a bit clunky but Blauine tries to get into it. Kissing is a dance, so maybe they just have to learn the steps together.

***

Though he had only told Rachel, gossip moves fast at McKinley and by the time he sits down at the lunch table everyone wants to know his business. He throws her a frustrated glance but she just shrugs her shoulders and returns to talking with Finn.

“Is this the same guy who talked to you at Regionals?” Tina asks.

“Yes, we’ve been chatting.” Blaine tries to stay tight lipped.

“From that pillow head group? Did it come in handy when you laid down in a dewy meadow? Is it true blondes have more fun?” Santana rapid fires questions she doesn't seem interested in the answers to.

“Of course we do,” Brittany answers.

“Nevermind them, spill the details. Are you two an item?” Mercedes cuts to the chase. There is a hint of concern in her voice, which Blaine thinks is her caring nature.

“Pretty much. We have another date this week. It is hard living so far apart but we are going to make it work.” Blaine is talking a bit out of turn. They haven’t made anything official yet, but maybe they will.

Santana looks displeased as she watches him talk. Her eyes are narrowed and he can sense some kind of evil wheel turning in her head. He just isn’t sure what.

“Let’s talk about something more fun… Prom! Who’s going?” Rachel says excitedly.

“Where?” Brittany asks.

“Prom, at the gym,” Tina says slowly.

“I’ve been there,” Brittany responds happily. Santana whispers something into her ear and Brittany says a soft “oh” as she nods her head.

“Finn and I have decided to run for prom king and queen,” Rachel continues. “We hope we can count on your support.”

“Well you can’t have mine, because Brit and I are also running,” Santana says.

“But that’s not fair, who would be prom king?” Rachel asks.

“I don’t give a crap. When Brit and I win we are dancing together anyway.”

Blaine feels torn between supporting his sister and the only out couple at school. Plus, Finn has been a real dick these last few months.

“I’ll run for king. If I win you can dance with each other and I’ll dance with my boyfriend,” Blaine announces. He is really getting ahead of himself now but they don’t need to know that.

***

For their third date, Blaine picks Jeremiah up at his house. They go out to dinner at a local cafe and then park where they won’t be disturbed. As things heat up in the backseat, Blaine is looking for the right time to mention prom.

“Actually, can we take a break. There is something I want to ask you?” Blaine sits up and adjusts his shirt. “Prom is coming up at my school. Would you like to be my date?”

It is certainly not the grand gesture Blaine had imagined but Jeremiah has had his hands on Blaine’s ass for the last 20 minutes so it feels like they are a little past that awkward stage.

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Jeremiah says quickly and goes back to kissing Blaine.

The moment is over with as little fanfare as it began. Blaine has more questions though.

“Does this mean that we are, like, boyfriends?” Blaine wants to be sure.

“Sure, sounds cool,” Jeremiah says lightly.

The moment should be fireworks. Instead, Blaine feels like he is settling. He tries to shake off the feeling of other options. Jeremiah is here, he is real, and he wants to be with Blaine.

***

He drops Jeremiah off before his curfew and heads back towards Lima. When he gets to the crossroads, he should go home. But instead he finds himself driving the opposite direction, towards Scandals.

He finds Kurt on a barstool, scowling and drinking something with an umbrella. He looks like an angry kitten. Blaine squares his shoulders and walks up to him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he tries to open with something light and breezy.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt asks, confused. “Don’t you have a date?”

Blaine is the one who is confused now. How does Kurt know about that? And, more importantly, why does he care?

“I did,” Blaine confesses.

Kurt scoffs again, then turns on his stool to fully face Blaine.

“I thought you were different, but apparently not. I’m not going to be your sloppy seconds.” The look on his face cuts Blaine to his core.

“You’re not second,” Blaine confesses. “He is.”

Kurt scowls at him.

“But Santana said… oh,” he says quietly.

Kurt grabs his hand and leads Blaine outside. His eyes search Blaine’s face, then soften when their eyes meet. The moment between them is electric. Blaine leans forward and closes the gap, his hands land on Kurt’s shoulders as he pulls him towards him. Kurt follows, pushing Blaine up against the cold brick wall.

They kiss sloppily, moaning into the night air, all decorum abandoned in this bubble they have made. No one will bother them here. Blaine feels lighter than air, floating along as his hands hold onto parts of Kurt, the two of them fusing into one.

Kurt slots a leg between Blaine’s thighs and they move against one on another. The sizzle of pressure is delicious. He can feel Kurt hard up against him. It's the first time he’s felt Kurt’s cock and doesn’t want it to stop. He shifts his hips to rub against Kurt’s hard thigh, riding the pleasure being exchanged between them.

Kurt breaks away, panting.

“We should slow down. Do you want to slow down? Or maybe stop?” Kurt asks.

“Not at all. But now that you’ve moved away the wall is pretty cold,” Blaine jokes. He isn’t sure how to act. He had been so consumed by the moment, ready to hump is way out of virginity in the dingy Scandals parking lot.

“And sticky. Let’s go somewhere better, warmer too. That is, if you’re sure?” Kurt’s eyes are soft and searching.

“I’d like that,” Blaine nods.

They climb into Kurt’s truck and he drives them towards something Blaine has wanted for a while.

***

“My house is crowded. Is this okay?” Kurt asks Blaine.

He keeps asking hopeful questions. Blaine knows he would say yes to everything, but appreciates being asked. He hangs his jacket on the back of the chair and joins Kurt on the couch. The room still smells like motor oil and sandalwood. The light from the crappy desk lamp casts leaves just enough shadow for it to feel intimate.

“Is there anyone else?” Blaine has to know.

“No,” Kurt responds softly.

“I want this,” Blaine says as he kisses Kurt. Fireworks again. He can feel a heat run through himself as their lips touch. He lets his mouth fall open for Kurt to swipe his tongue inside, it sends shivers down his spine. He is already hardening in his pants. The feel of Kurt’s kisses awaken something in him, he rushes to catch it. His hands grip at Kurt’s forearms as they make out.

They break for air and Kurt’s eyes search his, looking for confirmation. Blaine gives it with another round of kisses, then places his hand on Kurt’s thigh. They inch closer to each other until their bodies are swaying back and forth. Blaine decides to lean back and let Kurt settle on top of him. He loves the feel of his weight on him, and the feel of Kurt’s ass in his hands. He gropes and grabs as Kurt kisses at his neck.

“I have condoms,” Blaine says between kisses. He reaches awkwardly into his wallet and places two condoms on the couch beside them.

Kurt grabs one and slinks out of his lap and onto his knees on the floor. He looks to Blaine again as he unzips his pants and takes out Blaine’s dick. The look on his face is sultry and tender. He grabs a firm hold of Blaine, moving in long strokes up and down his shaft. It feels amazing. With each twist of Kurt’s wrist Blaine comes undone. Kurt rolls the condom down onto Blaine’s dick and even that feels good. Every part of him is turned on from this point of connection. Kurt plants soft kisses along his shaft, then goes back to sliding his tight fist up and down his dick. Blaine’s hips pump along with the motions and he pants out.

“Oh, oh, oh, ohmygod.” Blaine cannot form words.

Kurt speeds up his motions, pushing Blaine further and further towards the edge. He feels a familiar heat pooling low in his body. He’s only ever experienced this alone and the unexpected twists and pumps of Kurt’s fist feel incredible. Finally, Kurt leans in and kisses Blaine softly. Blaine’s heart melts as he comes. Kurt pumps his through it, then removes the condom and wipes him clean with a tissue. Kurt is so tender, the sight of it almost making Blaine hard again.

“Can… can I?” Blaine is still panting so he mimes what he wants to do crudely. Kurt sits next to him on the couch to kiss at his neck, then leans back to give Blaine space.

Blaine unzips Kurt’s tight pants and tugs them and his underwear down to his thigh. Kurt’s cock springs out and Blaine catches sight of it in the dim light of the room. It is gorgeous, long and leaning a bit to the left. Blaine’s mouth waters and he bends down to take Kurt in his mouth. He needs to taste his skin. He licks a long stripe up the shaft, then puts the condom on him.

Blaine combines what he has seen in porn and the information from the pamphlets, trying his best to give good head. It isn’t easy to take Kurt’s cock all the way into his mouth, so he starts with little licks and flicks of the tongue, then starts bobbing and sucking as he gets more comfortable. Sucking dick, as it turns out, is pretty great.

Kurt seems to be having a great time as well. His hands are resting softly on Blaines head and he is writhing around.

“Yes, oh yes,” he says softly as Blaine works him over.

Kurt starts to move his hips a bit and Blaine can feel him stiffen just a tad in his mouth. So he takes him as far as he can down his throat. It feels amazing being full with him. He breathes heavily out his nose and takes him deep over and over. There is a tug on his hair and Kurt gives his head a slight push as he comes.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” Kurt apologizes as Blaine comes up for air.

“Don’t, please don’t. That was wonderful.”

They lay staring at each other, pants open and softening dicks out in the night air. Blaine isn’t imagining the look in Kurt’s eyes. This is something real.

Part 6: Prom

For all the cliches about breaking up with someone over text, Blaine thinks it is the right thing to do. He can’t go on with Jeremiah. His heart is with Kurt, it has been from that first kiss.

This time Blaine wants to do it right. He has a bouquet of yellow and red roses in hand as he rings the Hummels’ doorbell.

He is nervous. He has never been to Kurt’s house. What if his dad answers? Oh god, what if his dad does not approve? Blaine starts to spiral. He lifts his hand to knock on the door but it opens before it lands, causing him to stumble forward.

Finn and an older woman are standing in the doorway. They are on their way out of the house and get a surprise with Blaine at the door.

“Hi, um, is Kurt home?” Blaine says politely.

“Oh my god, Rachel was right,” Finn says.

They stand in silence for a bit.

“Finn, honey, invite the young man in. Hi, I’m Carol. Kurt is upstairs, third door on the left. Nice to meet you…” she waits for Blaine to fill in the blank.

“Blaine, Blaine Anderson.” He gives her a friendly handshake and scoots out of the way as they exit the house. Finn still looks a bit dumbfounded. Blaine squares his shoulder and enters.

The house is empty, so he takes a quick look around as he walks towards Kurt’s room. The door is closed so he knocks.

“You can come in, Dad,” Kurt replies.

Blaine opens the door to find Kurt sitting at a vanity, his back to Blaine.

“Not your dad, just me,” he says.

Kurt pivots in his chair, his face lights up when he sees Blaine.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes land on the flowers.

“I’m here to, well... Gosh, now that I am here I should have planned something.” Blaine rubs nervously on the back of his neck. “Kurt Hummel, would you do me the honor of being my date for prom?” He holds out the flowers for Kurt to take.

Kurt stands and walks towards him. He takes the flowers and smells them, then leans in and places a soft kiss on Blaine’s lips. Blaine’s heart swells.

“No,” Kurt says plainly.

“No?” Blaine is confused. “Why not?”

“That is not something I am going to do. I really like you Blaine, but I won’t go to prom with you.”

Hurt rushes through Blaine, then anger. He won’t stand for being Kurt’s dirty secret. He storms out of Kurt’s room, out of his house, and out of his life.

***

That evening he sends a short email to Kurt with the next week’s work for history class, along with instructions to not bother coming to class and not talking to him if he does.

He closes his laptop and lets everything sink in. He really thought Kurt was the one. He thought he liked Blaine, that he wanted to be with him. But instead all he wanted was to get into his pants. God, he feels like a fool.

Once the tears start it is hard to stop.

Rachel comes into his room to see what is wrong. Blaine cannot get the words out but somehow she understands.

“Matters of the heart cut so deep,” she says. “Let it out.” She stays with him as he cries.

Blaine doesn’t explain anything, he just clings to her until he wears himself out enough to feel relief.

***

Blaine is dreading school on Monday. He doesn’t want to see Kurt. For once, he is glad that Kurt doesn’t show up to class.

He does spot him once, coming out of the girls’ bathroom with Santana. As they part, she gives him a stern look and then walks away. Rachel comes out of the bathroom soon after. Kurt gets another knowing look from her before she goes. Blaine turns and walks the other way. He does not wait to see Kurt’s face.

They are meddling in his business but he cannot deny that it feels good to be supported.

At lunch time, the club's schemes are made plain.

“So, I was thinking, this year let’s turn prom on its head and go as a big group. No couples. We go as a team,” Tina says, sounding almost scripted.

“Do I still get to dance with Santana?” Brittany asks.

“Yes, you can dance with your date. But let’s make this fun. Let’s show the whole school that glee club is united and awesome.” Rachel is really trying to sell it.

“Thanks, Rach, but you don’t have to,” Blaine says.

“But we want to,” Mercedes responds.

“Yeah, dude. You’re our boy,” Sam adds in.

“And I don’t have a date either so this works for me,” Artie agrees.

Blaine looks around the lunch table. Even Finn is smiling at him.

“Okay, fine, let’s go as a team,” Blaine agrees.

It doesn’t stop the ache in his heart but it helps.

***

“Okay, picture time!” Hiram announces.

“Dad, no. I’m the third wheel.” Blaine implores.

“Nonsense, you look dashing,” LeRoy says. “And, my sweet daughter, you are a vision.”

“And Finn looks nice, too!” Hiram adds.

His dads take pictures of each of them separately, then mixed groups. He isn’t sure what they will ever do with a picture of just him and Finn, but he obliges.

***

The gym is covered in steamers and colored lights. It still smells like stale old McKinley, but there is something in the air that makes it fun. The music is good and Blaine decides he is going to have a good time.

Things start off well. The songs are upbeat and the New Directions dance together in one big, weird group. But they pair off at the first slow song and Blaine and Artie decide to go sit down.

It ends up being a tortuous set of three slow songs in a row. Blaine watches the couples, some awkward and some overtly sexual, as they move together. He remembers the feeling of being in someone’s arms. It is more than he can take. He excuses himself to the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

Once again he meets Finn in a doorway, him exiting and Finn entering. Finn looks like he has something to say, so Blaine waits a beat.

“Sorry about Kurt, dude. He just hates dances. Probably because of last year.”

“What happened last year?”

“He got in a fight. Something went down between him and Karofsky and Kurt decked him. He almost got expelled but Ms. Sylvester stepped in. I don’t know much more. My mom was with his dad then, before Burt had the heart attack.”

It is a lot to take in. The pieces start to fit together.

“Oh,” Blaine replies.

“Yeah, I gotta pee though, dude so…” Finn says walking away.

“Sure, sure.” Blaine says as he leaves the bathroom. He walks back into the gym, still reeling from what Finn had said.

He sees Principal Figgins on the stage making an announcement but is too much in his own head. Rachel, Santana, a few other girls are standing on the stage along with a group of guys.

“And this year’s McKinley High junior prom king is Blaine Anderson!” Figgins announces into the microphone. A spotlight hits him and Blaine makes his way onto the stage, taking his place at the front of the line of guys. Behind him, Ms. Pillsbury puts a crown on his head.

“Drumroll please,” Figgins says. “Your McKinley High junior prom queen is… Rachel Berry!”

Blaine hears Rachel scream with delight. Ms. Pillsbury crowns her and she gives a princess wave to the crowd. Next to her Santana is grumbling. Blaine hopes that no one can read the disappointment in his face. The crown on his head feels heavy, pushing him down into the spot and freezing him there.

When the music starts for the king and queen dance, Blaine and Rachel share a look, unsure of what to do now. Finn comes running back from the bathroom. He leads Rachel down the steps and they begin to slow dance. Finn is an awful dancer but his sister could not look more happy in this moment. All of her dreams are coming true. Blaine gives a little smile as she turns his way.

“C’mon,” Santana says, grabbing Blaine’s hand. She walks down to the dancefloor with him in tow. “I’ve got your back, David Burtka.”

“Thanks, Santana,” Blaine says. The grandness of her gesture is not lost on him.

She stands taller than him in her heels. He instinctively puts a hand on her shoulder before she corrects him and places it on her hip. He is supposed to lead, though he really wishes she would. He doesn’t want to have to think right now. He just wants this moment to be over, to say some polite goodbyes, and just go home.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and he turns around.

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?”

It is Kurt, polished and dashing a shiny black tux. He smiles at Blaine, eyes pleading for forgiveness. Blaine closes his eyes, then opens them again, giving Kurt a non-verbal yes. Santana steps away and goes to stand with the rest of the club.

Kurt enters his space. One hand smooths onto his hip, the other takes his hand as he leads them around the dance floor. Blaine grips his shoulder and interlaces their fingers on the other hand. The connection comes easy and radiates through Blaine.

“I’m sorry, Blaine. I should have explained” Kurt says. The regret is clear on his face.

“It’s okay. I think I know now. And you’re here now.”

There is no mistaking this gesture. Blaine squeezes his hand in Kurt’s. He looks around the crowd to see the mixed faces of his peers. His friends in glee club look overjoyed, but there are more than a few frowning.

“Fuck them, eyes on me,” Kurt says softly. “They can’t touch us, or what we have.”

Kurt stares into Blaine’s eyes, his own soft and loving, like Blaine is everything in his whole world.

“So,” Blaine says cheekily “What do I get for the fourth punch on that punch card?”

“Me,” Kurt replies. “Though I’d like to think we got each other out of all this… boyfriend.”

Blaine let out a small grunt of frustration.

“What, Daddy never taught you how to change a tire?”

Blaine’s jaw dropped at how close to home this stranger had just hit.

The boy seemed to realize he had struck a nerve. Tone a modicum less harsh, the boy added, “Well mine owns a tire shop. He just locked up but lucky for you, I have the key. Why don’t we get your spare on and then you can follow me back to the shop to get a new tire put on?”

“Or you can just put the spare on and I’ll drive back to Westerville before I miss curfew,” Blaine countered. He checked his watch. If the boy could get his tire changed in the next thirty minutes he would just barely make it back to the dorm in time.

“Westerville? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not driving all the way to Westerville on a spare tire.”

Blaine scowled.

The boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it’s your life. If you want to roll the dice it’s no skin off my teeth. Just don’t expect me to come bail you out a second time. Come on, pop the trunk.”

Blaine pulled the lever to release the trunk and then followed the boy around to the back of his car. Now that he was out of the vehicle, he could take in more of his strange savior’s appearance. He was dressed in black from head to toe with metal studs pressed into the cuffs of his black denim jacket and the cartilage of his ears. He was also unexpectedly, upsettingly pretty.

The boy was pulling a large metal device out of his trunk that Blaine hadn’t even been aware was in there. Then, suddenly, he began dumping the contents of Blaine’s trunk out onto the dirt.

“Hey!” Blaine shouted in protest.

The boy paused his reign of destruction and gave Blaine a scathing look.

“You’re… you can’t just put my stuff on the ground!” Blaine knew that his voice was pitching embarrassingly high but he felt suddenly vulnerable with his fate in the hands of this stranger.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an ivory pedestal upon which to put his majesty’s things,” the boy drawled.

Yep, the boy had definitely sized him up and passed his judgement already. Blaine loved his uniform but it sure did lead to a lot of assumptions.

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable not to want my personal possessions on the ground. Just… if you give me a minute I will clear out the trunk and put them in the back seat.”

The boy took a step back, palms out in resignation. “Whatever, I thought you were in a hurry, man.”

Exasperated, Blaine quickly gathered his shoes and backpack off the dirt and carefully set them into the backseat of his car. As he began shifting the rest of his items, his curiosity got the better of him.

“Why do you need me to clear out the trunk anyways?”

“Where did you think your spare tire was exactly?” he spit back.

“I… I guess I never really thought about it.”

The boy muttered something indecipherable under his breath but Blaine would have bet good money that it wasn’t complimentary.

When the trunk was cleared out, the boy pulled some invisible handle and the entire bottom of the trunk lifted up, revealing a spare tire. The boy’s eyes sparkled with triumph.

“Time to jack!” he declared.

Blaine let out an undistinguished snort.

“The car, Pretty Boy, not your dick.”

Blaine turned very red and began coughing so violently that he had to step away from the car. He could hear the boy cackling with laughter, clearly very pleased with himself.

“Alright, stop being such a prude I need you to give me a hand for a minute.”

Blaine took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to compose himself.

He crouched down next to the boy, admiring the way that the car was now a good foot off of the ground, lifted up by the large metal contraption the boy had found in Blaine’s trunk. The boy was expertly undoing the large metal bolts that attached his wheel to the car.

“Hold out your hand,” he instructed.

Blaine did as instructed and after a few more turns, the first bolt came loose. The boy set it in Blaine’s hand. “Don’t you dare lose those,” he warned.

“I’m Blaine, by the way.” They were crouching inches apart. Blaine felt like he should at least know the boy’s name.

“Huh. I’m Kurt.”

“Thank you for helping me out, Kurt. You didn’t have to do any of this. You could have just driven past me. Really, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Kurt tutted. “Whatever. I can’t just let idiots flounder. It’s my only personality flaw.”

“Well, I guess mine is that I never learned how to change a tire.”

“Yours is worse,” Kurt said scathingly but when Blaine looked up he saw that the boy was smiling.

“Hand,” Kurt prompted as he loosened the next screw.

The tips of his fingers were warm against the palm of Blaine’s hand. It sent a shiver down his spine.

—

By the time Blaine made it back to the tire shop, darkness had fully settled over the city of Lima and his curfew was dead in the water.

Kurt switched on the lights and they turned on one at a time, until the whole shop was lit up. It was a nice shop, Blaine had to admit. Everything was well organized and gleamingly clean. Kurt looked out of place with his torn jeans and his navy blue eyeliner.

“If you don’t want to get grease on your uniform you should either stand back or put on some of those, Prep School.” Kurt pointed to a row coveralls hung on hooks.

“I told you my name, Kurt. Why do you insist on calling me stuff like that?”

“Oh so you don’t go to prep school?”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Blaine countered, frustration beginning to rise.

Kurt narrowed his eyes and then laughed. “You’ve got me there. I don’t realize you would be so touchy about it, Blaine.”

“I’m not I just… well, maybe I am. I’m more than just a rich prep schooler with no functional skills, okay?”

“Okay. Then what are you, pray tell?” Kurt asked with a mischievous grin.

There was a loud sound as the spare tire dropped to the floor. Kurt regarded it with satisfaction and then wiped a drop of sweat from his brow, leaving a smudge of grease in its wake.

He moved the spare tire aside and then looked at Blaine expectantly.

“I… I don’t know…” It came out hushed and pathetic.

“Oh, so you’re normal. Well, that’s a relief.”

When Blaine looked at him, Kurt was actually smiling.

“Not normal enough for my dad to teach me to change a tire apparently,” he muttered to himself.

Kurt must have heard him because his eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean, not normal enough?”

“Oh you mean you couldn’t figure that out from one look at me? Your system might be flawed there, Kurt.” Blaine couldn’t resist the opportunity to seize the upper hand back from Kurt in this conversation.

Kurt, it transpired, was unflappable. With a shrug, he simply agreed. “Might be. Maybe I’ll plug my brain into the diagnostics computer after I make sure your car doesn’t have any other problems. So why aren’t you normal, Blaine? Besides being a rich idiot.”

“Too gay to be normal.” It came out strained despite Blaine’s best attempts to sound breezy.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Blaine felt his eyebrows raise.

Kurt smirked in response.

“Well, I guess my dad was wrong. Being gay has nothing to do with your ability to fix cars.”

“Clearly,” Kurt said with a grin. “We have the same brand of tire as what’s on your car. Do you want me to just match the tire or did you want something cheaper?”

Blaine pulled out his wallet and frowned as he paged through the bills. "I only have fifty bucks.”

“Yeah, well that’s not going to cover a Michelin tire, my friend.”

“Can I get you the rest this weekend?” he asked, biting his lip nervously.

“You promise you’ll come back?” Kurt asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“Yes! I promise.”

“Hmm… I would need your phone number so I can harass you if you don’t show.”

“I’ll show! I may not know what I am but I know I’m reliable. And we’ve already established that I’m a rich idiot so you know I can pay. Please,” he whined, giving Kurt the full force of his puppy dog eyes.

Kurt turned slightly pink and took a step backwards. “Well, those are probably in violation of the Geneva convention or something,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely towards Blaine’s face. “Yes, fine. You’ve convinced me. Now stop making that face, for the love of God.”

Blaine grinned in triumph.

Kurt disappeared into the back room to locate Blaine’s new tire. Blaine checked his watch and realized that if he didn’t call in soon his parents were going to get a message from the school saying that he hadn’t signed back in.

Kurt reemerged, expertly rolling a large tire over the concrete floor, humming to himself. Blaine pointed to his cell phone and then stepped over to the side of the garage to call his parents.

“Look, Dad, I don’t know what you wanted me to do!”

…

“Well I couldn’t call triple A because there wasn’t any cell service!”

Blaine began to pace.

“Well, I didn’t get murdered, actually. A very nice boy is almost done changing my tire.”

…

“No, he didn’t overcharge me. And you should really reconsider giving me an emergency credit card because I didn’t even have enough cash to cover it and if he hadn’t…”

…

“Look, I’m sorry I don’t know what else you want me to say. Are you going to call Dalton or not?”

…

“Okay. Well, thank you.”

Blaine hung up and then bitterly added, “For nothing.”

He looked up to see that Kurt was openly staring. Blaine let out a sigh and put his face into his hands.

“Um, are you okay?” A hand hesitantly rested on his shoulder. Blaine looked up to see that Kurt was standing next to him now.

Blaine rubbed his eyes and then nodded. “Fine.”

“So, your dad kind of sucks, huh?”

Blaine nodded again.

“Sorry about that,” Kurt said softly.

Blaine looked at him in surprise.

“What? I’m not a complete asshole. Just like… most of the time. Besides, I’ve heard gay guys love assholes so…”

A fit of laughter overtook Blaine. It was loud and uncontrolled. After a moment of stunned silence, Kurt joined in. They cackled and guffawed until they could barely hold themselves upright. Blaine laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his cheeks, or maybe the tears were from something else, but the release felt good regardless. Blaine had to lean against the wall to stop himself from collapsing and Kurt had to lean against Blaine for the same reason. Kurt dipped, nearly falling over, but Blaine managed to wrap and arm around his waist fast enough to keep him upright.

“Woah, there!” he said, still cackling.

For some reason, that only made Kurt laugh even harder. He clutched at Blaine’s blazer and pressed his face into his chest to muffle the laughter. Blaine felt his whole body grow warm. He didn’t drop the arm that was around Kurt’s waist.

Kurt lifted his head and suddenly they were nose to nose.

Blaine realized neither of them was laughing any more.

He felt the warm breath from Kurt’s exhalations on his cheek. Kurt smelled like honey. Blaine reached up and wiped the smudge of grease from the side of his cheek. Kurt let out a barely perceptible gasp.

“If I kiss you will you still pay me for the tire?” Kurt whispered.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to?” Kurt whispered again.

“Yes.”

The wall was pushing into his back and his hand was somehow on Kurt’s neck now and then hot, warm, wet. Blaine groaned into the kiss, pulling Kurt’s face closer, still not remembering how exactly he came to be pressed up against the wall but very glad that he was. He felt like his whole body was melting and if not for the insistent pressure of Kurt keeping him upright against the wall, he would be goo on the floor right now.

Kurt wrapped one of his legs around Blaine’s and holy fucking shit Blaine had to grab the back of his thigh to keep him from falling over. Once they were stabilized, Blaine felt himself sink back into the kiss, letting Kurt be in control. Letting himself be pressed into the wall by Kurt’s firm chest and insistent hands.

Kurt’s tongue brushed against his and he felt his knees actually start to go weak.

Then suddenly he could breathe again, ragged gasping breaths. Kurt didn’t sound any better.

The stared at each other in silence.

“Wow, the sign wasn’t kidding about full-service,” Blaine joked.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Please, the rest of our customers wish they were so lucky.”

“Oh, so you mean you don’t make-out with all of your customers?”

“Considering that most of them are over the age of forty, consider us both relieved.”

Blaine let out a reluctant sigh. “I really do need to get home. My dad’s only going to get madder the later I make it back, and he’s already pretty furious.”

“Well, I’ll see you next weekend then.”

“Kurt, are you asking me out on a date?”

“What? No, I… you said you would be back to pay for the tire, so I just…”

“Too bad,” Blaine replied with a wicked smile. He scooped his keys up off the table, leaving Kurt utterly gobsmacked. He hopped into his car and started the engine.

Kurt rapped on the window of his car. Blaine cooperated and rolled down the window.

“You are very frustrating, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Sure, my parents tell me that every day.”

Kurt looked sad for a moment. Then his smile returned and he reached through the window to put his hand on top of Blaine’s on the wheel.

“You know, you can pay me back for the tire anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here.”

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

“Breadstix? 10am? They have all-you-can-eat pancakes.”

Blaine grinned.

“At least you didn’t have to wait for me to get out of the hole this time,” Blaine jokes as Kurt opens the exit door of the Urgent Care.

“Shut up,” Kurt says, opening the passenger side door of his car for Blaine to climb in. “You don’t get to say anything until your hand stops throbbing.”

Blaine leans in for a kiss as Kurt buckles his seat belt, and is met with the door slammed in his face and Kurt heads for the driver's seat. “Babe it’s not even that bad! Two weeks of ice and ibuprofen that’s all, I guess now I’ll have to train my left to be a little stronger-” he stares at Kurt’s profile as he strokes his thigh.

Kurt moves it back to Blaine’s lap. “Ice your fucking hand,” he says, eyes on the road.

“I don’t know why you’re bugging so much,” Blaine huffs as they pull into Kurt’s driveway. “When this is healed I should find those assholes and fuck them up-”

“You don’t get it do you?!” Kurt screams more than asks, looking at Blaine and immediately hitting the steering wheel in frustration. He screams again, hitting the his palm on the curve of the wheel over and over so much Blaine is prepared to give him his bag of ice after. Kurt rakes his hands in his hair and looks Blaine dead in the eyes.

“I’ve been through this for years- fucking years Blaine- and kept my cool. Do you now get that you’re giving what they want when you do this? That it could be so much worse?” He has tears in his eyes now, hands shaking as he goes on. “I get you’re upset but I’ve been upset, and don’t have time to relive these reactions all over again-” he trails off, gasping for air from talking so fast.

Blaine’s on him in a second, ignoring the pain from flexing his hand so suddenly as he unbuckles his seat and wraps his arms around Kurt’s middle, shushing him as he shakes. I’m sorry, so sorry, it’s alright he repeats asks he threads his hands in Kurt’s hair, holding him as solid as possible with the gear shift shoved against his gut.

They stay like this until Blaine’s ice pack melts, jiggling on the car mat as Blaine tries to shake Kurt from when he’s fallen asleep in his arms.

“Baby, c’mon,” Blaine whispers, stroking Kurt’s arm and sighing as Kurt wakes up. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“If you try to fuck me now I swear Anderson,” he says laughing, his walls immediately coming up as he gets his keys and Blaine follows suit.

***

An hour later Blaine has made them sandwiches and Kurt’s painting Blaine nails a deep blue as a movie plays in the background. “I really am sorry,” Blaine says, eyeing Kurt as he painting his thumb as a new ice pack balances on his knuckles.

“Just when I thought you were going to be quiet,” Kurt saying without looking up, poking his tongue out a little to concentrate. “And it’s fine.”

“Are you alright?” Blaine asks, not giving Kurt the time to change the topic. “You’ve have freaked out like that since-”

He trails off and Kurt sighs. He knows there’s too many things he can fill in that sentence with. The night we met, the first time I tried to fuck you, every time we’ve visited Burt, that one dinner with your parents, and many more. “I’m fine,” he repeats. “It all gets overwhelming sometimes, you know? And I can’t have you punching lockers when it does.”

“I won’t,” Blaine replies in a heartbeat and Kurt huffs out a laugh at his suddenness.

Kurt smiles. “Good, because we both know I’m the drama queen in this relationship,” and this time Blaine laughs. “Now give me your other hand.”

The bus stops and somehow a few more people cram themselves in. A middle-aged woman is pressed up against Kurt’s back, and Kurt grips the bar even tighter.

Maybe he can convince his mom to drive him to the pizza place. She’ll probably go for it once he tells her he’s springing for it. Or he can just fuck it all and order delivery from Giovanni’s, in West Lima. It’s been a while since he treated himself to pizza that cost more than five dollars.

Fuck it. He had a really shitty day at school. He deserves Giovanni’s.

Someone reaches across Kurt’s face to press the stop button, and Kurt scowls. He can’t wait till he’s saved up enough to buy himself a car. Even the shittiest clunker would be better than this.

Several people get off the bus at the next stop, though, enough for Kurt to feel like he actually has room to breathe. He turns around and leans against the bar instead of gripping it, eyes lazily flicking over the rest of the people on the bus for the first time.

He smirks when his eyes fall on the new kid, sitting near the back door with his backpack in his lap, staring worriedly up at the next stop indicator at the front of the bus.

He doesn’t know the kid’s name, but he does know that he’s gorgeous. He’s a year younger than Kurt, from what he’s gathered, and just moved to Lima over the summer. He’s sat alone at lunch every day for the past two weeks, earphones jammed in his ears, slowly eating packed lunches out of brown paper bags.

He also takes the same bus as Kurt home from school, getting off four stops before Kurt does.

The boy’s eyes turn to Kurt, but Kurt doesn’t look away. He smirks and raises an eyebrow instead. The boy holds his gaze for several seconds, then rolls his eyes and looks back up at the next stop indicator.

He’s done the same thing every day for two weeks now. And honestly, Kurt is getting ready to move their relationship to the next level.

The talking level.

There’s a possibility the guy isn’t into dudes, but Kurt doubts it. Every time Kurt sees him he’s wearing one of two bowties. They’re tattered, mind, and ugly as hell, but they’re still bowties. Kurt doesn’t know any straight guy who goes out of his way to wear bowties to school.

So, either he just isn’t into Kurt, or he’s playing hard to get.

Kurt really hopes it’s the latter. The dude is smoking .

The bus stops and the girl sitting beside Bowtie Boy stands up. Kurt doesn’t hesitate, pushing his way past the few people still standing and sliding into the seat instantly.

He pops his earphones out of his ears and grins. “Hey,” he says.

Instead of turning to look at him, Bowtie Boy turns his head toward the window, prominently displaying the earphones in his ears. Kurt can see his reflection in the window, though, and grins as they make eye-contact.

The boy rolls his eyes again, then turns to look at Kurt. He plucks one earphone out of his ear and raises an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Kurt grins. “I think you can,” he says. He holds his hand out to the boy. “I’m Kurt.”

The boy doesn’t even glance at the proffered hand, instead keeping his eyes glued to Kurt’s. “How can I help you, Kurt?”

Kurt tilts his head. This boy’s got an attitude. “Well, you could tell me your name, for starters.”

Bowtie Boy’s eyebrow rises further. He looks over Kurt’s face, eyes briefly lingering on his lips. Then he looks back up to the front of the bus. “Blaine,” he says quietly. He places his earphone back into his ear, and Kurt smirks.

Kurt watches him for a while, but it’s clear that Bowtie Blaine isn’t going to budge. Still, he can see the way the boy is clutching his backpack tightly, fingers clenching the plain black fabric far harder than he needs to.

Definitely playing hard to get.

The name of the boy’s stop plays over the speaker, and Bowtie Blaine quickly tugs the string down. He stands up immediately and gives Kurt a withering look.

Kurt stretches out, biting down on his lip. Bowtie Blaine sighs and rolls his eyes. He takes an earphone out of his ear again and says, “My stop is coming up.”

“Not for a bit,” Kurt replies. “Why are you in such a hurry to get away?”

Bowtie Blaine rolls his eyes again. “Can you just move, please?”

Kurt stares at him, daring him to back down, but Bowtie Blaine seems resolute. When Kurt doesn’t move after about ten seconds, the boy rolls his eyes again and starts stepping over Kurt’s legs.

Kurt stays still, watching the boy struggle. He’s clearly determined, and manages to get out of the seat before the bus comes to a full stop. He stumbles a little as his foot catches Kurt’s leg, but rights himself quickly.

Before he steps off the bus, he purposefully turns around and glares at Kurt. He then shouts, “Back door please!” at the driver, and once the door opens he leaves without another glance back.

For a brief second Kurt considers getting off the bus after him, just to see where the guy lives, but before he can make up his mind the door is closing and the bus is starting back up.

Kurt slumps in his seat, tossing his backpack onto the now-empty window seat and putting his headphones back in. Whatever. It’s probably better that he doesn’t stalk this guy. As hot as he is, Kurt doesn’t need to get in over his head with a guy – again.

‘Glad You Came’ comes on his shuffle, and he scowls, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling his phone out, pressing the next button with probably too much force. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t feel like thinking about Sebastian now. Not after the day he’s had.

He slumps further in his seat as a song that decidedly doesn’t remind him of his ex comes on. One of the people still standing gives him a dirty look, glancing to the empty seat next to him, but Kurt ignores him He’s in a mood, and he needs people to see it so they’ll back the fuck off.

Honestly, he’s surprised it took everyone at school this long to find out that Sebastian dumped his ass as soon as he left the state. After all, Sebastian was a bit of a legend at McKinley, seeing as he was one of the few students that actually had money, was an ace lacrosse player, and good looking to boot.

When they got together everybody said it would never last.

He fucking hates that they were right. And now they get to rub it in his face.

The bus is practically empty by the time Kurt’s stop rolls around. Santana Lopez is the only other student who rides the bus all the way into Lima Heights, and she’s the next stop down. She isn’t on the bus today, though, which Kurt appreciates. She was practically the head of the ‘Sebastian is too good for you, you Lima Fucking Loser’ brigade, and she’s been giving him this annoying smirk ever since he got on the bus to school that morning. He’s glad he didn’t have to deal with her bullshit all the way home, too.

He hops off the bus with a casual wave at the driver and starts heading in the direction of his apartment building.

He decides to briefly pop into the corner store and pick up a bottle of Coke to have with his pizza; he doesn’t feel like paying for Giovanni’s overpriced soda. The college student behind the register gives him a far too judgemental look when Kurt pulls out his debit card to pay instead of the usual crumpled bills. Kurt swipes his card and scrunches his face at the employee. This asshole’s been giving him shit ever since Kurt’s card got declined for a $1.49 bag of Cheetos.

Fucking prick. It’s not like he’s living it up, working in a convenience store in Lima Heights. Kurt grabs his soda and his receipt and resists the urge to flip the guy off as he leaves.

He takes a brief swig of the two litre bottle as he walks the last few minutes between the corner store and his apartment building, considering calling Giovanni’s on his way home so he can get it at soon as possible.

When he reaches the front door to his building, his eye briefly catches on a gorgeous motorcycle in the guest parking lot. He whistles lowly, eyes roving over the gorgeous machine. It’s either new or very well taken care of.

He hopes whoever owns it has enough sense to get it out of this neighbourhood before nightfall.

He unlocks the front door and pushes it open, pausing to let a couple that lives a floor above him out. Then, he heads to the stairwell, climbing up to the third floor easily.

Their apartment is right by the stairwell, which is a pain in the ass during the weekends, but is nice after school. He unlocks the deadbolt and opens the door, calling out, “Mom, I’m home!” as he does.

He turns to lock the deadbolt back up, tossing his keys on the little table they keep by the door. It’s only when he turns back around that he notices the muddied boots sitting in their entrance.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers.

His mom pops her head out through the doorway into the kitchen, blonde hair curling up at the edges and smiling softly. “Hey, baby,” she says. “How was school?”

“Please tell me those don’t belong to who I think they belong,” he says, pointing at the boots.

His mom’s smile instantly falls. “Kurt…”

The sound of the toilet flushing rushes through the apartment and Kurt shakes his head, jaw already clenching.

“Kurt,” his mom repeats. “Be nice.”

“Why is he here?” he hisses.

She doesn’t have time to answer. The door to the bathroom flies open and Puck steps out, rubbing his hands together and saying, “Quinn, that two-ply shit is fucking awful. You have to get yourself some three-ply paper at least; I had four-ply out in LA, felt like God was licking my ass every time I wiped.”

Puck is still laughing at his own disgustingness when he catches sight of Kurt. Instantly, he smiles. “Hey, buddy!” He opens his arms up and starts walking toward him. “Long time no see, huh?”

Kurt manages to avoid the hug, squeezing past him through the tight hallway that leads straight to the living room. “Whose fault is that?” he spits, scowling.

“Kurt!” His mom is glaring at him, but Kurt ignores her, keeping his eyes on Puck.

“It’s cool, Q,” the man says, raising his hands as if accepting defeat. They’re still wet. “I get it. Kid’s got a right to be upset that his old man isn’t around as much as he should be.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Puck grins. “To see you, of course. And your mom. Missed you guys.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Kurt says, snorting. He turns to his mom and says, “I’m not sleeping here if he is.”

“Kurt, come on,” she says, voice going soft in that way it always does when she wants something from him. “Your dad drove all the way here just so he could spend some time with you.”

Kurt turns to Puck, jaw still clenched. “You drove?” he asks. That’s new. Normally the guy shows up on a bus, to gain extra pity points from his mom.

“Yeah. I got a sweet new ride. It’s out front, if you want to check it out?”

“That’s yours?”

“She’s my baby,” Puck confirms.

Kurt presses his lips together, glancing over at his mom. She has a pleading look in her eye, one she only gets when Puck’s around.

“Right,” Kurt says. “Look, I was planning on going out tonight anyway, and I’m not going to cancel my plans because you decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Kurt!” his mom scolds yet again. Kurt ignores her.

“That’s cool,” Puck says, hands once again raising in defeat. “I’m gonna be sticking around for a while, so we’ll definitely have time to catch up.”

“Fantastic,” Kurt drawls. He turns on his heel and heads through the living room toward the door in the far corner, pushing it open without looking back and shutting it tight behind him.

He can hear his mom and Puck talking quietly behind his door and groans, throwing his backpack onto his desk chair and setting the bottle of coke on his desk. He kicks his shoes off and falls onto his bed.

So much for his awesome relaxing plans.

He hates when Puck does this. Decides he wants to be a dad for a week. Not that that’s ever his real reason for coming back to Lima, but he always claims it is.

Kurt groans again and turns so that he’s lying on his stomach, face pressed against his pillow. He desperately wants to scream.

As if today hadn’t been shitty enough already.

There’s a soft knock on his door, and he doesn’t have time to tell his mom to go away before she’s opening the door and coming in.

He hears the door click shut behind her, but stays where he is.

For a while she doesn’t say anything, and Kurt hopes that it’ll keep up. Maybe she’ll change her mind about whatever bullshit she wants to spew at him. She does that from time to time.

Never with Puck, of course, but Kurt can dream.

After a few minutes of silence, she says, “You know he’s just trying to be your dad.”

Kurt snorts, moving his head so he’s facing his wall. “Sure.”

“Kurt,” she says quietly, footsteps moving toward his bed. She sits down at the edge and puts a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t like the other times, okay? He’s in a good place. He isn’t here-”

“To ask for money?” Kurt finishes, sitting up. He shakes his head. “Mom, come on. You don’t seriously buy this motorcycle shit, do you? He hasn’t paid child support in eight months, but suddenly he’s in a good enough place to buy a motorcycle ? Come on, mom. Money’s the only reason he ever comes here.”

“Not this time,” she says. “He… he misses you. He misses us.”

Kurt closes his eyes. He can feel the tears wanting to come, but he refuses to let them fall. “Mom, no. Don’t do this.”

“I’m not – look,” she huffs and pushes a lock of hair out of her face, “your dad came to see you, and you’re being an asshole to him. Can you at least pretend to be civil? I thought I raised you better.”

Kurt can’t help but smile at that, despite the situation. “Yeah, right,” he says, bumping their shoulders together. She chuckles.

They’re quiet for a few moments. Then Kurt says, “He’s just going to use us again.”

“I promise it’s not like that this time.”

“That’s what you say every time, and it’s always like that. Come on, mom. Don’t be naïve.”

She turns to him, green eyes as cold as steel. “It’s not naïve to want us to have a normal family for once, Kurt.”

“We are a normal family!” He gestures between them. “You and me. That’s all we need. We don’t need him to be normal. We’ve never needed him.”

She shakes her head and stands up. “This isn’t a discussion I’m having with you again, Kurt. Your dad is staying for a few days and you will be civil to him. Got it?”

Kurt bites the inside of his cheek. She gives him a challenging look, the one he used to try and mimic for hours in the mirror. He sighs.

“Whatever,” he says. “I still have plans tonight, though.”

“I thought you weren’t working tonight.”

“ Social plans, mom. With my friends.”

She licks her lips, and he tries to ignore the way her eyes soften in pity. He hates when she does that.

“Kurt-”

“Whatever, mom,” he says. “Can you just leave? Go give him some placating story about how everything will be fine soon enough, how I’ll come around, or whatever it is you tell him that makes him think it’s okay to keep coming back here. I have to change.”

She stares at him for a few more moments, then nods. She heads back toward his door, but briefly pauses when she gets there.

“He just wants to get to know you, Kurt,” she says quietly. “He’s your dad.”

“No, he’s not,” Kurt says. “If he was my dad he wouldn’t have fucked off like he did.”

She doesn’t respond for a moment, and Kurt worries that she’s trying to come up with some kind of retort. Instead, she just shakes her head and leaves the room. He watches her go, feeling bad for taking his frustration out on her.

Still, it’s not like she’s about to tell Puck to fuck off, either.

He watches the door for a bit, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through his contacts, finding who he wants relatively quickly. He presses the call button and raises the phone to his ear.

It rings a couple of times before a deep voice answers with a surprised, “Kurt?”

“Hey,” he says, hand clenched at his thigh. “I, uh.” He clears his throat. “There’s a situation at my house. Is it okay if I stay with you guys tonight?”

He instantly receives a positive response, and he thanks his friend before hanging up, telling him that he’ll be there soon. He shoves his phone back into his pocket, then heads to his desk. He quickly empties his school supplies out of his backpack, leaving them lying askew on the desk. He then shoves a pair of sweatpants, a ratty shirt, some clean underwear, and his work uniform into it. He manages to fit the bottle of Coke in with his clothes as well. He makes sure he has his wallet too, then slings it over his shoulder, pulls his shoes back on, and heads out of his room.

Puck and his mom are sitting on the couch whispering. They stop when he emerges, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m going to stay at a friend’s,” he says.

Puck is the one who replies, with a suspicious, “Is this a guy friend?”

Kurt turns to glare at him. “The fuck’s it to you?”

“Hey,” his mom says, standing up.

Puck puts his hand on her arm. “It’s fine, Q.” Then, to Kurt, “I was just asking, bud. Just want you to be safe.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he says. He heads toward the front door, grabbing his keys from the table and unlocking the deadbolt. “Oh, by the way,” he says as he opens the door. “You’re going to want to put your baby in the garage for the night. It’ll be cramped, but at least it’ll be indoors. Nothing that nice lasts long sitting out in this neighbourhood.”

He doesn’t give them a chance to respond, walking out the door and slamming it shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother to stop and lock the deadbolt, instantly heading to the stairwell.

What an amazing fucking day.