Suicide Boys, Chapter 2 - Plus Art
Art - A Sunny Day In Lima
This technically isn't an illustration for this story, but it can plausibly fit into the same 'verse. Mainly I just wanted to draw something to try and combat the crippling anxiety I'm currently feeling. Second day of a new job tomorrow and I'm flipping the hell out, half convinced they're going to tell me it's just not working out.
Title: Suicide Boys, A Murderverse Story
Author: FearfulLT
Rating: PG-13 but will go up.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Blaine, and appearances from New Directions.
Genre: Drama
Warning: AU, adult themes, potential creepiness, mentions of death and bullying.
Spoilers: AU from season 1.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I'm not making any money from it, this is pure entertainment.
Author Notes: This story is definitely going to be longer than I intended. I'm making sure I stay at least one chapter ahead with what I've written, and so far it just keeps expanding...
Summary: Blaine thought that the only thing he'd have to deal with at his new school would be deciding whether or not to come out. He never counted on Kurt Hummel, or all of the things that happened next.
Word Count: 3048
Previous
This time last year Kurt Hummel had been a nobody. A singing, dancing loser with as much social standing as a peanut. The difference between now and then was so vast that it was shocking. In fact sometimes it still amazed him that in a few short months he’d gone from being on the bottom rung of the social ladder to sitting on the top tier. Although, naturally, Coach Sylvester claimed full responsibility for the change he knew better.
All it took was a little careful scheming and a few convenient deaths.
Kurt Hummel, by the way, was very good at careful scheming.
Most of the time he maintained a perfect routine that began in the mornings while he sat in front of his vanity mirror and applied moisturiser and the barest hint of foundation to his face. He dressed while his face dried, brushed his teeth, and finally fixed his hair before he ventured upstairs to the kitchen. He never ate breakfast, except on Sundays. Sundays were family brunch days, brunch falling close enough to lunch that he was usually hungry enough to eat it.
This morning, like every other, Kurt breezed into the kitchen and pecked his father on the cheek. “Morning, daddy,” he said, and went straight for the fridge to pick up a bottle of still mineral water. The kitchen clock, hung by the refrigerator, read 7;15. Burt always left at 7;30 on the dot and Kurt left whenever schoolwork and clubs allowed him to which usually meant they overlapped for at least a few minutes every morning.
“Anything interesting happening at school today?” Burt asked, looking up from the paper.
“Glee recruitment drive,” Kurt replied simply, cracking open his mineral water to take a careful sip. “Not that we need it. We’ve already had two new sign-ons this week, but I suppose we can never have too many people interested in the arts. Who knows, I might even find someone capable of doing a proper duet.”
Burt raised his eyebrows. “What about Puck?”
Kurt shrugged his shoulders expressively. “We don’t always see eye to eye in our song choices. A little Broadway might make a nice change from music that hasn’t seen the light of day in twenty years... Don’t tell him I said that.” Kurt glanced at the time again, noticed that it was close to 7;20, and capped his water again. He walked over to peck his dad’s cheek again. “Time to go or I’ll miss cheer practice.”
Kurt picked up his car keys from where they hung above the counter and left through the back door. That was another thing that had changed since this time last year, he mused. This time last year Puck had been that bully who tossed him in the dumpster at least once a week. But then he’d joined glee and somehow had a change of heart, a change that was set in stone sometime during September of last year. Which, coincidentally, was only a short time before they’d started dating.
Kurt smirked to himself as he turned the key in the ignition. Dating. Screwing. Tied together by secrets and inescapable attraction. Now known as the school’s ‘It Couple’, Kurt singing-dancing-cheerleading Hummel and Noah toughest-guy-in-school Puckerman.
Kurt couldn’t help but smile to himself as he pulled into the school parking lot. He had a whole year full of wonderful ahead of him. And nothing could ruin that. He picked up his cheerleading uniform from the back seat and locked the car behind him, sauntered into the school building feeling on top of the world.
Not even seeing the memorial for the six abhorrent boys who had died last year could ruin his good mood. After all, he’d been the one who suggested the memorial. It had paid off, after all. The concert had been the one to make the glee club the social success it was today, while Kurt’s altruism and concern for the boys who’d been killed made him all the more likeable.
Cheer practice had gotten easier as the months went by. All of the dancing he did, with both the Cheerios and New Directions, had toned his body. He was fit. He also looked darn good in uniform if he did say so himself.
Practice ended with just enough time to get ready for classes. Unlike the rest of the cheerios Kurt tended to change out of his uniform and back into his street clothes. It always made him a little bit late on the days after morning practice, but he got away with it by smiling at his teachers in a way that silently reminded them that he was their best student. He wasn’t, of course, the best student, but being intelligent and attentive went a long way at McKinley.
Like usual, Kurt always paid attention in his classes. He wanted good grades, an average that would look good on his college applications. He already knew what he wanted from life and had a rough idea of how to get there. Step one was always linked back to grades, so he made sure not to slack off at school.
Lunchtime was a well deserved break and his first meal of the day.
Kurt packed up when the bell rang and made his way through the crowded hallways to his locker. He always took a partial packed lunch just on the off chance that the food in the cafeteria happened to be something he didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole. He also brought his own cutlery, neatly folded up with a napkin. He spared a glance over to the locker he recognised as belonging to Blaine but when he didn’t see the other boy he just shrugged his shoulders and went to lunch. He could always wave the boy over later if he saw him.
A few short minutes later Kurt was taking his seat at the head of the ‘gleek’ table, a small social mesh of cheerleaders, jocks, and kids who had previously been nothing more than musical pond scum. This time last year everyone at the table had been an outcast in some way. This year, Kurt noted with satisfaction, it looked like the table that everyone secretly wanted a seat at.
He was just starting to unpack his lunch and utensils when a flash of awkward caught his eye. Kurt looked up to see Blaine in the middle of an internal debate, standing several tables over and looking towards the glee table. Kurt raised his hand and waved him over. “Blaine! Over here.”
“Seriously?” A voice in his ear murmured.
Kurt turned his head to look at his boyfriend, one eyebrow arched. “Yes, seriously. I’m allowed to be nice once in a while.”
Puck rolled his eyes and patted Kurt’s thigh. “Whatever you say, baby,” he said, then promptly turned his attention back to whatever sport-related conversation was going on to Kurt’s right.
It took Blaine a few seconds to squeeze through the lunch crowds to actually get to the table and the space Kurt had created on his left. “Thanks,” Blaine smiled as he sat down, setting his lunch tray in the space in front of him.
“Don’t mention it,” Kurt replied, unwrapping his knife and fork from their napkin. “This is the glee table, so you’re welcome to sit here. Sometimes you might need to elbow a few people to make some space...”
“You guys generally seem like a pretty friendly crowd.”
“Generally,” Kurt agreed with a small smirk.
“Well, yesterday I did get my teeth threatened.” Blaine’s glance slid over to Puck, then back to Kurt again.
“Boyfriend,” Kurt explained, picking up on the question. “Ex juvenile delinquent. Not the sort of boy who likes shopping trips and non fat mocha lattes. I’m told we’re an odd couple, but we have enough mutual interests to keep things interesting. Plus he has a nice ass,” Kurt couldn’t help but add, knowing full well that Puck would be listening in, “and an incredible body.”
Blaine’s cheeks flushed a little, a sign that told Kurt he was absolutely right in his initial assessment of the boy. “I wouldn’t know,” Blaine said, a little awkwardly.
“Play it that way if you like,” Kurt replied with a shrug, opening up the Tupperware container with his crisp Greek salad inside, “but we both know differently. Anyway, it’s not as if I’m going to tell anyone.”
“...Thanks.” Blaine looked down at his school lunch, which looked like some kind of pasta. “My old school,” he said eventually, “wasn’t exactly the most understanding. It’s why I transferred here, so... I’d appreciate it if it didn’t get out just yet. I want to settle in first, try to make some friends before I’m suddenly known as...” He trailed off, looking a little sheepish as he realised who he was talking to.
“Oh, I was ‘the gay kid’ for several years,” Kurt replied, waving a lettuce leaf dismissively. “What you need,” he told Blaine, feeling a shopping trip coming on, “is to get yourself established in this school. You need a reputation. And, incidentally, you happen to be at the perfect table for that.”
“I am?” He didn’t sound too enthused.
“Blaine, I think you’ll find that things are very different here at McKinley. The glee club, for example, is full of the most popular kids in school. We’re minor celebrities. All we have to do,” Kurt assured the other boy, “is put you on a stage with us and you’ll never have any problems fitting in ever again.”
“He has an ulterior motive,” Puck cut in, making Kurt jump. He hadn’t even realised Puck was still listening in and glared over his shoulder at his boyfriend. Puck just smirked and informed Blaine; “He always has an ulterior motive.”
Annoyed, Kurt glared at Puck for a second longer before he turned back to Blaine with a smile. “My other male friends, Puck included, are all ‘manly macho men’. My girl friends are wonderful, but I would like to have a boy around who doesn’t spend all his time talking about sports and video games.”
“You want to be my friend,” Blaine summarised, obviously feeling a little surprised, or maybe overwhelmed.
“Tell me, can you handle frequent shopping trips at the mall and quaint little cafes?”
“I think so,” Blaine answered.
“Good.” Kurt smiled at him, deciding to ease off and let it all soak in before he put anything else on the agenda. Kurt had become very used to both being listened to and getting his way. He was spoiled, he knew it, and it suited him. Blaine, on the other hand, obviously didn’t have the same kind of confidence. Blaine was him this time last year, less flamboyant and clearly less in touch with his feminine side, but similar enough that Kurt felt justified in deciding to take the boy under his wing.
-
The first step of Blaine’s integration was apparently introducing him to a new wardrobe. He tried to make it clear from the outset that he didn’t want to wind up looking like a fashion plate but he wasn’t sure how much of that got through. Kurt still dragged him into several big name stores, but Blaine was relieved when everything the other boy picked for him was comparatively plain.
“It is all about image,” Kurt informed him, seated outside the fitting room while Blaine tried on several different pieces. “But you want an image that suits you.”
“And that image is black slacks and dark brown sweaters?” Blaine asked, poking his head out of the stall.
“I don’t know. Do you think it is?”
Blaine thought about it a minute, then opened the door. “It’s nice,” he decided, looking at himself in the full length mirror, “but I dunno, it might be a bit formal for me.”
Kurt nodded. He was dressed in a bright red trench, a matching red hat perched jauntily on his head. “Designer jeans and graphic tees?” he suggested and looked Blaine up and down thoughtfully. “That outfit for dates.”
Blaine shook his head. “I’ve been at McKinley a week and even I know that besides you and Puck I’m the only gay guy in the school.”
“And last year I was the only gay boy in Lima,” Kurt replied dryly. “You never know what might happen.”
By now, after only just a few days of knowing him, Blaine was already able to recognise Kurt’s stubborn look. He sighed. “The closet is a pretty big place,” he said, only slightly sarcastic.
“Yours will be filled with tasteful clothes,” Kurt replied, pushing him back into the fitting room.
“I have a limited amount of funding, you know.” Blaine said as he took off the designer clothes and exchanged them for his own. “And this stuff can get pretty expensive. I’ll admit I’m not exactly short on allowance, but two hundred dollars for a pair of pants? That’s going to run up a pretty big bill.”
“Yes, but this is an ongoing project,” Kurt’s voice cut through the flimsy fitting room door clear enough to make it sound like he was in the tiny stall with him. “As long as you have a few nice pieces to start with it doesn’t matter if you can’t retool your entire wardrobe in one day.”
Dressed once again in his plain old jeans and long sleeved shirt Blaine emerged from the fitting room with the dress slacks and sweater draped over one arm. Kurt immediately took hold of his other arm and steered him towards the checkout. As Blaine forked over what he felt was a ridiculous amount to spend on a single outfit he glanced to the side at the other boy. He couldn’t help but admire how at home with himself Kurt seemed. Like there was nothing in the world that could possibly unsettle him.
Blaine took the bag from the smarmy cashier and followed Kurt out of the store. “Can we take a break?” he asked. “I never actually realised how exhausting shopping could be.”
“That’s because you’ve never done it properly,” Kurt smirked at him. “But I suppose we can take a break. Cheap lattes from the food court?”
Blaine grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
‘Cappy hour’ at the mall food court was a godsend. Two for one drinks for one hour only meant that between them two large coffees only cost the spare change they could scrounge from their pockets. Blaine was glad not to have to break another note, or to see any more money from his small stash change shape into clothing. Yet. He knew full well the day wasn’t over and he was in for an overhaul whether he wanted one or not. Watching Kurt sip his giant mocha latte he kind of felt like he wanted the change. Blaine wanted to be that confident, that popular. He could definitely stand to be a little more like Kurt, he thought to himself.
His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of a phone. Kurt pulled his out of a pocket of his trench. “Just a second,” he said to Blaine, then faced away from him, the message on the screen hidden by his body. Blaine could hear him type out a quick response before he turned back, all smiles. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s ok,” Blaine replied, watching Kurt put his phone away and fuss with his trench a moment. “I don’t expect you to tune out the world for the sake of one friend.”
He really hoped he hadn’t overstepped that. He wasn’t entirely certain that they were at the friend stage.
“Shopping is important,” Kurt announced in return. “Especially between friends.”
Several hours later when Blaine finally arrived home, weighted down with several shopping bags, his feet practically killing him, the warm fuzzy glow of friendship was still there to make him smile. Just a little.
-
“What the hell do you think you’re doing texting me things like that in public!?” Kurt hissed into his phone, quiet even though his basement room was practically soundproof.
“Chill, Kurt,” Puck’s voice oozed into his ear from the speaker, “I just found it online and thought you might like it. How was I supposed to know you were in public?”
“Because I told you that’s where I’d be. You knew I’d be out today. And you still decided it would be a brilliant idea!”
“It was a brilliant idea. You liked it.”
Kurt could practically hear the smirk in Puck’s voice and had to bite his lip a moment to stop from yelling at him. Instead he took a calming breath. “I don’t want you to send me anything like that while I’m out again. You only send those when you know I’m at home. During the times we agreed.”
There was a short silence, just a couple of seconds of nothing but soft breathing until Puck spoke again. “But you liked it, right?”
Then it was Kurt’s turn to pause a minute. He thought about the photo Puck had sent him, something that looked suspiciously like the kind of photograph that would be taken at a crime scene. It might have been staged, but it was a darn good staging. The attention to detail had been immaculate and the blood was exactly the right colour. It was burned into his memory like all of the other photos, all of the other films. He had to wonder where on earth Puck had found it.
“Yes,” Kurt said finally, breathily. “I liked it.”
“I’ve got more,” Puck teased.
Kurt bit his lip again, this time for a very different reason. “God, I hate you.”
“You love it. I’ll show you tomorrow when you come over... Bye, Bonnie.”
Puck hung up before he could reply. Kurt sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to recall if he’d locked his bedroom door or not. A short internal debate later and he was 90% sure he had, which was sure enough for him to look up the text Puck had sent him earlier. He imagined a whole set of photos like these and could feel himself getting hard. Kurt groaned softly, tomorrow afternoon was going to take a ridiculously long time to arrive.
Next
This technically isn't an illustration for this story, but it can plausibly fit into the same 'verse. Mainly I just wanted to draw something to try and combat the crippling anxiety I'm currently feeling. Second day of a new job tomorrow and I'm flipping the hell out, half convinced they're going to tell me it's just not working out.
Title: Suicide Boys, A Murderverse Story
Author: FearfulLT
Rating: PG-13 but will go up.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt/Puck, Blaine, and appearances from New Directions.
Genre: Drama
Warning: AU, adult themes, potential creepiness, mentions of death and bullying.
Spoilers: AU from season 1.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I'm not making any money from it, this is pure entertainment.
Author Notes: This story is definitely going to be longer than I intended. I'm making sure I stay at least one chapter ahead with what I've written, and so far it just keeps expanding...
Summary: Blaine thought that the only thing he'd have to deal with at his new school would be deciding whether or not to come out. He never counted on Kurt Hummel, or all of the things that happened next.
Word Count: 3048
Previous
This time last year Kurt Hummel had been a nobody. A singing, dancing loser with as much social standing as a peanut. The difference between now and then was so vast that it was shocking. In fact sometimes it still amazed him that in a few short months he’d gone from being on the bottom rung of the social ladder to sitting on the top tier. Although, naturally, Coach Sylvester claimed full responsibility for the change he knew better.
All it took was a little careful scheming and a few convenient deaths.
Kurt Hummel, by the way, was very good at careful scheming.
Most of the time he maintained a perfect routine that began in the mornings while he sat in front of his vanity mirror and applied moisturiser and the barest hint of foundation to his face. He dressed while his face dried, brushed his teeth, and finally fixed his hair before he ventured upstairs to the kitchen. He never ate breakfast, except on Sundays. Sundays were family brunch days, brunch falling close enough to lunch that he was usually hungry enough to eat it.
This morning, like every other, Kurt breezed into the kitchen and pecked his father on the cheek. “Morning, daddy,” he said, and went straight for the fridge to pick up a bottle of still mineral water. The kitchen clock, hung by the refrigerator, read 7;15. Burt always left at 7;30 on the dot and Kurt left whenever schoolwork and clubs allowed him to which usually meant they overlapped for at least a few minutes every morning.
“Anything interesting happening at school today?” Burt asked, looking up from the paper.
“Glee recruitment drive,” Kurt replied simply, cracking open his mineral water to take a careful sip. “Not that we need it. We’ve already had two new sign-ons this week, but I suppose we can never have too many people interested in the arts. Who knows, I might even find someone capable of doing a proper duet.”
Burt raised his eyebrows. “What about Puck?”
Kurt shrugged his shoulders expressively. “We don’t always see eye to eye in our song choices. A little Broadway might make a nice change from music that hasn’t seen the light of day in twenty years... Don’t tell him I said that.” Kurt glanced at the time again, noticed that it was close to 7;20, and capped his water again. He walked over to peck his dad’s cheek again. “Time to go or I’ll miss cheer practice.”
Kurt picked up his car keys from where they hung above the counter and left through the back door. That was another thing that had changed since this time last year, he mused. This time last year Puck had been that bully who tossed him in the dumpster at least once a week. But then he’d joined glee and somehow had a change of heart, a change that was set in stone sometime during September of last year. Which, coincidentally, was only a short time before they’d started dating.
Kurt smirked to himself as he turned the key in the ignition. Dating. Screwing. Tied together by secrets and inescapable attraction. Now known as the school’s ‘It Couple’, Kurt singing-dancing-cheerleading Hummel and Noah toughest-guy-in-school Puckerman.
Kurt couldn’t help but smile to himself as he pulled into the school parking lot. He had a whole year full of wonderful ahead of him. And nothing could ruin that. He picked up his cheerleading uniform from the back seat and locked the car behind him, sauntered into the school building feeling on top of the world.
Not even seeing the memorial for the six abhorrent boys who had died last year could ruin his good mood. After all, he’d been the one who suggested the memorial. It had paid off, after all. The concert had been the one to make the glee club the social success it was today, while Kurt’s altruism and concern for the boys who’d been killed made him all the more likeable.
Cheer practice had gotten easier as the months went by. All of the dancing he did, with both the Cheerios and New Directions, had toned his body. He was fit. He also looked darn good in uniform if he did say so himself.
Practice ended with just enough time to get ready for classes. Unlike the rest of the cheerios Kurt tended to change out of his uniform and back into his street clothes. It always made him a little bit late on the days after morning practice, but he got away with it by smiling at his teachers in a way that silently reminded them that he was their best student. He wasn’t, of course, the best student, but being intelligent and attentive went a long way at McKinley.
Like usual, Kurt always paid attention in his classes. He wanted good grades, an average that would look good on his college applications. He already knew what he wanted from life and had a rough idea of how to get there. Step one was always linked back to grades, so he made sure not to slack off at school.
Lunchtime was a well deserved break and his first meal of the day.
Kurt packed up when the bell rang and made his way through the crowded hallways to his locker. He always took a partial packed lunch just on the off chance that the food in the cafeteria happened to be something he didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole. He also brought his own cutlery, neatly folded up with a napkin. He spared a glance over to the locker he recognised as belonging to Blaine but when he didn’t see the other boy he just shrugged his shoulders and went to lunch. He could always wave the boy over later if he saw him.
A few short minutes later Kurt was taking his seat at the head of the ‘gleek’ table, a small social mesh of cheerleaders, jocks, and kids who had previously been nothing more than musical pond scum. This time last year everyone at the table had been an outcast in some way. This year, Kurt noted with satisfaction, it looked like the table that everyone secretly wanted a seat at.
He was just starting to unpack his lunch and utensils when a flash of awkward caught his eye. Kurt looked up to see Blaine in the middle of an internal debate, standing several tables over and looking towards the glee table. Kurt raised his hand and waved him over. “Blaine! Over here.”
“Seriously?” A voice in his ear murmured.
Kurt turned his head to look at his boyfriend, one eyebrow arched. “Yes, seriously. I’m allowed to be nice once in a while.”
Puck rolled his eyes and patted Kurt’s thigh. “Whatever you say, baby,” he said, then promptly turned his attention back to whatever sport-related conversation was going on to Kurt’s right.
It took Blaine a few seconds to squeeze through the lunch crowds to actually get to the table and the space Kurt had created on his left. “Thanks,” Blaine smiled as he sat down, setting his lunch tray in the space in front of him.
“Don’t mention it,” Kurt replied, unwrapping his knife and fork from their napkin. “This is the glee table, so you’re welcome to sit here. Sometimes you might need to elbow a few people to make some space...”
“You guys generally seem like a pretty friendly crowd.”
“Generally,” Kurt agreed with a small smirk.
“Well, yesterday I did get my teeth threatened.” Blaine’s glance slid over to Puck, then back to Kurt again.
“Boyfriend,” Kurt explained, picking up on the question. “Ex juvenile delinquent. Not the sort of boy who likes shopping trips and non fat mocha lattes. I’m told we’re an odd couple, but we have enough mutual interests to keep things interesting. Plus he has a nice ass,” Kurt couldn’t help but add, knowing full well that Puck would be listening in, “and an incredible body.”
Blaine’s cheeks flushed a little, a sign that told Kurt he was absolutely right in his initial assessment of the boy. “I wouldn’t know,” Blaine said, a little awkwardly.
“Play it that way if you like,” Kurt replied with a shrug, opening up the Tupperware container with his crisp Greek salad inside, “but we both know differently. Anyway, it’s not as if I’m going to tell anyone.”
“...Thanks.” Blaine looked down at his school lunch, which looked like some kind of pasta. “My old school,” he said eventually, “wasn’t exactly the most understanding. It’s why I transferred here, so... I’d appreciate it if it didn’t get out just yet. I want to settle in first, try to make some friends before I’m suddenly known as...” He trailed off, looking a little sheepish as he realised who he was talking to.
“Oh, I was ‘the gay kid’ for several years,” Kurt replied, waving a lettuce leaf dismissively. “What you need,” he told Blaine, feeling a shopping trip coming on, “is to get yourself established in this school. You need a reputation. And, incidentally, you happen to be at the perfect table for that.”
“I am?” He didn’t sound too enthused.
“Blaine, I think you’ll find that things are very different here at McKinley. The glee club, for example, is full of the most popular kids in school. We’re minor celebrities. All we have to do,” Kurt assured the other boy, “is put you on a stage with us and you’ll never have any problems fitting in ever again.”
“He has an ulterior motive,” Puck cut in, making Kurt jump. He hadn’t even realised Puck was still listening in and glared over his shoulder at his boyfriend. Puck just smirked and informed Blaine; “He always has an ulterior motive.”
Annoyed, Kurt glared at Puck for a second longer before he turned back to Blaine with a smile. “My other male friends, Puck included, are all ‘manly macho men’. My girl friends are wonderful, but I would like to have a boy around who doesn’t spend all his time talking about sports and video games.”
“You want to be my friend,” Blaine summarised, obviously feeling a little surprised, or maybe overwhelmed.
“Tell me, can you handle frequent shopping trips at the mall and quaint little cafes?”
“I think so,” Blaine answered.
“Good.” Kurt smiled at him, deciding to ease off and let it all soak in before he put anything else on the agenda. Kurt had become very used to both being listened to and getting his way. He was spoiled, he knew it, and it suited him. Blaine, on the other hand, obviously didn’t have the same kind of confidence. Blaine was him this time last year, less flamboyant and clearly less in touch with his feminine side, but similar enough that Kurt felt justified in deciding to take the boy under his wing.
-
The first step of Blaine’s integration was apparently introducing him to a new wardrobe. He tried to make it clear from the outset that he didn’t want to wind up looking like a fashion plate but he wasn’t sure how much of that got through. Kurt still dragged him into several big name stores, but Blaine was relieved when everything the other boy picked for him was comparatively plain.
“It is all about image,” Kurt informed him, seated outside the fitting room while Blaine tried on several different pieces. “But you want an image that suits you.”
“And that image is black slacks and dark brown sweaters?” Blaine asked, poking his head out of the stall.
“I don’t know. Do you think it is?”
Blaine thought about it a minute, then opened the door. “It’s nice,” he decided, looking at himself in the full length mirror, “but I dunno, it might be a bit formal for me.”
Kurt nodded. He was dressed in a bright red trench, a matching red hat perched jauntily on his head. “Designer jeans and graphic tees?” he suggested and looked Blaine up and down thoughtfully. “That outfit for dates.”
Blaine shook his head. “I’ve been at McKinley a week and even I know that besides you and Puck I’m the only gay guy in the school.”
“And last year I was the only gay boy in Lima,” Kurt replied dryly. “You never know what might happen.”
By now, after only just a few days of knowing him, Blaine was already able to recognise Kurt’s stubborn look. He sighed. “The closet is a pretty big place,” he said, only slightly sarcastic.
“Yours will be filled with tasteful clothes,” Kurt replied, pushing him back into the fitting room.
“I have a limited amount of funding, you know.” Blaine said as he took off the designer clothes and exchanged them for his own. “And this stuff can get pretty expensive. I’ll admit I’m not exactly short on allowance, but two hundred dollars for a pair of pants? That’s going to run up a pretty big bill.”
“Yes, but this is an ongoing project,” Kurt’s voice cut through the flimsy fitting room door clear enough to make it sound like he was in the tiny stall with him. “As long as you have a few nice pieces to start with it doesn’t matter if you can’t retool your entire wardrobe in one day.”
Dressed once again in his plain old jeans and long sleeved shirt Blaine emerged from the fitting room with the dress slacks and sweater draped over one arm. Kurt immediately took hold of his other arm and steered him towards the checkout. As Blaine forked over what he felt was a ridiculous amount to spend on a single outfit he glanced to the side at the other boy. He couldn’t help but admire how at home with himself Kurt seemed. Like there was nothing in the world that could possibly unsettle him.
Blaine took the bag from the smarmy cashier and followed Kurt out of the store. “Can we take a break?” he asked. “I never actually realised how exhausting shopping could be.”
“That’s because you’ve never done it properly,” Kurt smirked at him. “But I suppose we can take a break. Cheap lattes from the food court?”
Blaine grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
‘Cappy hour’ at the mall food court was a godsend. Two for one drinks for one hour only meant that between them two large coffees only cost the spare change they could scrounge from their pockets. Blaine was glad not to have to break another note, or to see any more money from his small stash change shape into clothing. Yet. He knew full well the day wasn’t over and he was in for an overhaul whether he wanted one or not. Watching Kurt sip his giant mocha latte he kind of felt like he wanted the change. Blaine wanted to be that confident, that popular. He could definitely stand to be a little more like Kurt, he thought to himself.
His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of a phone. Kurt pulled his out of a pocket of his trench. “Just a second,” he said to Blaine, then faced away from him, the message on the screen hidden by his body. Blaine could hear him type out a quick response before he turned back, all smiles. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s ok,” Blaine replied, watching Kurt put his phone away and fuss with his trench a moment. “I don’t expect you to tune out the world for the sake of one friend.”
He really hoped he hadn’t overstepped that. He wasn’t entirely certain that they were at the friend stage.
“Shopping is important,” Kurt announced in return. “Especially between friends.”
Several hours later when Blaine finally arrived home, weighted down with several shopping bags, his feet practically killing him, the warm fuzzy glow of friendship was still there to make him smile. Just a little.
-
“What the hell do you think you’re doing texting me things like that in public!?” Kurt hissed into his phone, quiet even though his basement room was practically soundproof.
“Chill, Kurt,” Puck’s voice oozed into his ear from the speaker, “I just found it online and thought you might like it. How was I supposed to know you were in public?”
“Because I told you that’s where I’d be. You knew I’d be out today. And you still decided it would be a brilliant idea!”
“It was a brilliant idea. You liked it.”
Kurt could practically hear the smirk in Puck’s voice and had to bite his lip a moment to stop from yelling at him. Instead he took a calming breath. “I don’t want you to send me anything like that while I’m out again. You only send those when you know I’m at home. During the times we agreed.”
There was a short silence, just a couple of seconds of nothing but soft breathing until Puck spoke again. “But you liked it, right?”
Then it was Kurt’s turn to pause a minute. He thought about the photo Puck had sent him, something that looked suspiciously like the kind of photograph that would be taken at a crime scene. It might have been staged, but it was a darn good staging. The attention to detail had been immaculate and the blood was exactly the right colour. It was burned into his memory like all of the other photos, all of the other films. He had to wonder where on earth Puck had found it.
“Yes,” Kurt said finally, breathily. “I liked it.”
“I’ve got more,” Puck teased.
Kurt bit his lip again, this time for a very different reason. “God, I hate you.”
“You love it. I’ll show you tomorrow when you come over... Bye, Bonnie.”
Puck hung up before he could reply. Kurt sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to recall if he’d locked his bedroom door or not. A short internal debate later and he was 90% sure he had, which was sure enough for him to look up the text Puck had sent him earlier. He imagined a whole set of photos like these and could feel himself getting hard. Kurt groaned softly, tomorrow afternoon was going to take a ridiculously long time to arrive.
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