Fic: Sparks Fly 1/12
Title: Sparks Fly 1/12
Author: gameboycolor
Pairing/Characters: Kurt Anderson/Blaine Hummel
Spoilers: none
(Overall) Warnings: Bullying, violence, homophobia
Rating: R overall (subject to change)
Length: ~2400
Summary: Season 2 AU, Kurt/Blaine character swap. Written for this prompt on the GKM.
A/N: I apologize for the WIP status. I wanted to make this story a little easier for people to follow. I'm a bit ahead on the kink meme if you can't wait for the next chapter. :)
Chapter One | Chapter Two
“Excuse me.”
Kurt turns. The boy on the staircase doesn’t go to Dalton, and even if he did, Kurt wouldn’t exactly be jumping at the opportunity to help him.
The only reason Kurt hasn’t walked away by now is the fact that he’s cute in that borderline hopeless sort of way. Kurt tuts internally at the state of the boy’s curls. Clearly no one has taught him the importance of the care and keeping of his particular hair texture.
“I’m a little lost,” the boy admits. “I was wondering if you could help me?”
“The office is on your left at the end of this stairway,” Kurt says quickly, his words punctuated by a few taps of his foot. He’s running late for his first performance in the senior commons, and an impromptu tour of Dalton is in no way an excuse for tardiness.
“Well, I’m new here, and--”
“No you’re not.” Kurt wants to laugh, because this happened every year. “Unless you make a habit of wandering around strange schools in a bastardized version of their uniforms. C’mon, cutie, let me guess... Carmel? I have to say, this is a vast improvement. Last year, they sent us a girl.”
He flushes. “McKinley, actually.”
“How ...quaint.” Kurt has a fuzzy memory of that particular choir. He mourns the fact that Dalton has to wear their uniforms for competitions all because of some ancient bylaw. McKinley gets the chance to wear whatever they want, and sometimes that’s the extra sparkle the judges need to make their decision. They are completely wasting that opportunity, if his memories serves him correctly.
“I... I...” The boy is stammering and gripping his messenger bag in a way that drags a reluctant, sympathetic smile out of Kurt.
“What’s your name?” Kurt asks, hoping to settle his nerves.
“Uh, Blaine.”
“Well, uh, Blaine,” he teases gently. “I have a little performance to get to here in a bit, and I will be damned if I let them take my Sectionals solo away because I let the enemy into our base camp, so how about you wait for me in the cafe?”
Blaine gives him a weak smile.
“...and you have no idea where that is. Right.” Kurt takes another look at Blaine’s red tie. Nice try, new kid. “I’ll walk you. We don’t need you getting lost.”
Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and crinkles his nose in disgust at the sweaty state he finds his palm in.
Blaine is really quiet, but part of that could be because Kurt uncovered his reason for visiting Dalton Academy within moments of meeting him.
In Kurt’s defense, he really should have sprung for a more convincing tie. In fact, most prospective students come to Dalton for their pre-enrollment tours dressed in their own clothes.
He still remembers the first time he walked down the very same stairway, his limbs aching with each step. He probably should have still been on crutches, but he opted for the walking cast instead. He wanted to show them that they hadn’t broken him.
Kurt deposits Blaine in the tiny campus cafe in the main hall and slaps a five on the table. “Get me a non-fat mocha and stay put.” He turns at the entrance of the room and looks back at Blaine. “If anyone asks why you’re here, tell them you’re here visiting Kurt Anderson.”
-
When Kurt steps back into the cafe twenty minutes later, he’s half-expecting to find Blaine gone.
He’s almost impressed when he finds him sitting at the same table with two coffees in front of him.
“You stayed,” he says as he takes a seat opposite Blaine.
Blaine not only got his coffee, but he has placed the cardboard holder on top of the opening to keep the heat from escaping. It’s oddly considerate, seeing as Kurt pretty much barked the order at him.
“You told me to,” Blaine replies. He’s tearing at the cardboard holder of his coffee cup, and Kurt can’t help but watch the work of his nervous fingers.
“Do you do everything people tell you to do?”
Blaine looks up at Kurt and the corners of his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Not typically.”
“So, coming to spy on the competition. Who came up with that brilliant plan?” He takes a small sip of his mocha and he is pleased to find the temperature is perfect.
He stares down at the table. “Some of the guys in my glee club thought I should. I think they were trying to get rid of me.”
Kurt hates the pang of sympathy he’s feeling for Blaine, because it’s making it harder to stick to the plan. He’s supposed to be in here telling Blaine to inform his little glee club that the Dalton Academy Warblers will not hesitate to report them for spying if it happens again, but instead, he’s finding himself feeling a bit sorry for him.
How inconvenient.
“I doubt they meant it that way,” Kurt says carefully.
Blaine doesn’t respond. He keeps shredding the cardboard holder into tiny pieces.
Kurt recognizes his body language all too well - his shoulders are hunched like he’s trying to making himself smaller and he’s having trouble making eye contact with Kurt.
“Blaine?”
He looks up at Kurt like he’s been snapped out of a trace. “I... I really should be going. Thank you for the coffee.” Blaine suddenly looks panicked. “You did mean for me to get myself coffee, didn’t you? I mean, you didn’t ask for change so I assumed and...”
“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, louder this time, in hopes of cutting him off. Thankfully, it works. “Of course that’s what I meant.”
“I should get going...” He looks embarrassed, and as lovely as that splash of pink looks on his cheeks, Kurt wants to find a way to make him feel comfortable. “Like you said, I shouldn’t even really be here.”
“But here you are,” Kurt shrugs. “Might as well stay for awhile. It’s a bit of a drive back to Lima.”
“Two hours,” he nods.
“So you’re telling me that you drove two hours just to spy on us?”
“Not really, no,” Blaine admits. “I... I kind of wanted to check out Dalton, it’s a lot nicer than where I go to school.”
“We have chandeliers,” Kurt jokes. “They kind of have that effect on a place.”
“It’s not that,” he says quietly.
Public school wasn’t that long ago for Kurt. Sure, he’s been safe within the ivy-covered walls of Dalton for two years now, but he hasn’t forgotten what it’s like.
He’s expecting to hear that Blaine has been teased. Kids are mean, Kurt knows this. They hardly need an excuse for giving someone a hard time.
Kurt isn’t expecting Blaine’s quiet admission of - “I’m the only person out of the closet at my school.”
Oh. His mouth opens and closes a few times, because he’s been completely caught off guard. Sure, Blaine is cute and yeah, Kurt had been toeing the edge of flirty on the staircase, but that’s just how he is.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine chokes out. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Blaine.” He doesn’t mean to do it, because he can tell Blaine doesn’t want to be touched, but he reaches out and catches his wrist anyway. He needs to keep him from leaving. Blaine stiffens at first, but then he starts to relax at the touch. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I assure you.”
Kurt lets his hand linger on Blaine’s wrist. “I’m gay, Blaine.” He didn’t think he would actually have to tell Blaine this. He has always been under the impression that it was obvious to just about everyone. “You didn’t know?”
“I... oh.” Blaine’s expression softens. “I was taught that it wasn’t polite to assume.”
Kurt chuckles. “You are something else, Blaine.” He strokes the side of Blaine’s wrist once before letting go. “So, McKinley, right? That must be rough, considering everything.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Blaine mutters.
Oh, but I do. But this isn’t a game of who has the best sob story, so Kurt remains silent and listens intently. Kurt knows what it’s like to have to scream for attention, so the least he can do is give Blaine his.
“It sucks,” he says simply.
Kurt gives him a sympathetic shrug. “Sounds about right.”
“I can tell... people want to help.” Blaine is chewing his bottom lip. The boy is full of nervous habits, by the looks of it. “They act like they do, at least. But there’s such a big difference between wanting to help and actually doing something about it.”
There was a Facebook group for all of five minutes when Kurt was hospitalized. There were wall posts screaming of injustice, but no one actually did anything about what happened. He still remembers being able to hear the dance still going on inside of the gym while he left lying on the concrete with the taste of blood in his mouth.
Kurt assumes they moved on to a more worthy cause, possibly one involving the welfare of small animals.
“Most people are all talk, Blaine. That’s why you can’t trust them.” Kurt takes another sip of his coffee and trys to school his expression into something more neutral. It’s difficult. Blaine’s presence is bringing up memories that Kurt tries his best to bury. “You want my advice?”
Blaine nods.
“Lay low and keep your mouth shut.” Kurt can see Blaine opening his mouth to protest, but Kurt shakes his head. “I know, it sucks, but it’s the only thing that I’ve found that works. Just focus on when you are able to get out of Ohio, think of the amazing life you’re going to have. That will be the biggest ‘fuck you’ you can give anyone who gives you a hard time.”
“I don’t like them getting away with everything,” he frowns. “It’s not right.”
“You’re right,” Kurt smiles sadly. “It’s not, but I’ve found it’s not worth it to fight back.”
“So, Dalton...” Blaine looks around the intricately decorated cafe. Like most things at Dalton, it is full of unnecessary chandeliers and artwork. “Do you like it here?”
“Most days.” There are always days when Kurt misses his clothes and despises how strict the administration can be, but he enjoys Dalton for the most part. He feels safe there. “Dalton’s a good school. I mean, if throwing on a uniform and doo-wopping is going to get me one step closer to New York, I’m all over it.”
“New York?” Blaine asks.
“I’m thinking about applying to the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts.” He could talk for days about NYADA, but he wants to keep the focus on Blaine. “Have you thought about your plans for after school?”
“Not really. It seems so far away.”
“That’s why you plan,” Kurt says. “It makes the time go by faster.”
They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments as they finish their drinks.
“Hey, give me your phone,” Kurt asks suddenly.
Blaine pulls his phone out of pocket, but he clutches it close to his chest. “You aren’t going to hide it, are you?”
“No, dummy,” he rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m giving you my number. You know, in case you ever want to talk. Dalton isn’t exactly down the street, you know.”
“Oh, okay.” Blaine passes over his phone, and Kurt does the same with his iPhone.
He feels a little nosy scrolling through Blaine’s contacts, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from doing it. He sees a listing for Blaine’s father, along with the names Rachel Berry and Brittany Pierce. He tries to keep scrolling, but the list stops there.
Kurt wonders if McKinley is lonelier for Blaine than he originally thought.
“Here.” He hands the phone back to Blaine. “You can call me whenever, but if I’m in class it might take me a little while to respond.” He takes his phone back from Blaine, and finds himself unable to keep the smile off his face at the addition of Blaine Hummel :) to his contacts. “Or you could always text. I’m kind of amazing at discreet classroom texting.”
He gets a smile out of Blaine at that.
“I’m amazing at a lot of things, actually,” he continues. “It’s a shame you turned out to be a spy or I would have taken you to the performance in the senior commons myself.”
Kurt’s not one to brag, but...
Okay. He’s definitely one to brag.
“I looked you guys up before I came here, actually, but I couldn’t find anything with you on lead vocals,” Blaine says.
Of course he couldn’t find anything, and Kurt knows why. “That’s because they only just came to their senses and started giving me solos this year. It seems all they needed were a few competition losses to get them to shake things up a bit.”
Liar, liar, liar. He had only joined the Warblers last year. The mid-semester transfer during his freshman year left him feeling unsteady, like he needed to blend in.
Joining the Warblers isn’t a way to blend in.
It wasn’t until his sophomore year that he found his voice again.
The Warblers are nice, but he still doesn’t consider them friends. He can’t. Kurt can be polite, he can enjoy their company, but he likes the Warblers best when he keeps them at an arms length. Kurt has never been in it for the brotherhood. He just wants to sing.
“Well, you guys are really, really good,” Blaine admits, but reluctantly at that. He sounds disappointed, like he wasn’t expecting them to be. “I guess we have our work cut out for us at Sectionals.”
Kurt thinks of echoing the words he’s heard around the halls of Dalton Academy - the Warblers are like rockstars! He hears it enough, and it makes him roll his eyes each time. Being in an all-boys acapella group doesn’t make a person a rockstar. Being a rockstar does.
“Well, Blaine,” Kurt says as he extends his hand for him to shake. “May the best man win?”
“May the best man win.”
Author: gameboycolor
Pairing/Characters: Kurt Anderson/Blaine Hummel
Spoilers: none
(Overall) Warnings: Bullying, violence, homophobia
Rating: R overall (subject to change)
Length: ~2400
Summary: Season 2 AU, Kurt/Blaine character swap. Written for this prompt on the GKM.
A/N: I apologize for the WIP status. I wanted to make this story a little easier for people to follow. I'm a bit ahead on the kink meme if you can't wait for the next chapter. :)
Chapter One | Chapter Two
“Excuse me.”
Kurt turns. The boy on the staircase doesn’t go to Dalton, and even if he did, Kurt wouldn’t exactly be jumping at the opportunity to help him.
The only reason Kurt hasn’t walked away by now is the fact that he’s cute in that borderline hopeless sort of way. Kurt tuts internally at the state of the boy’s curls. Clearly no one has taught him the importance of the care and keeping of his particular hair texture.
“I’m a little lost,” the boy admits. “I was wondering if you could help me?”
“The office is on your left at the end of this stairway,” Kurt says quickly, his words punctuated by a few taps of his foot. He’s running late for his first performance in the senior commons, and an impromptu tour of Dalton is in no way an excuse for tardiness.
“Well, I’m new here, and--”
“No you’re not.” Kurt wants to laugh, because this happened every year. “Unless you make a habit of wandering around strange schools in a bastardized version of their uniforms. C’mon, cutie, let me guess... Carmel? I have to say, this is a vast improvement. Last year, they sent us a girl.”
He flushes. “McKinley, actually.”
“How ...quaint.” Kurt has a fuzzy memory of that particular choir. He mourns the fact that Dalton has to wear their uniforms for competitions all because of some ancient bylaw. McKinley gets the chance to wear whatever they want, and sometimes that’s the extra sparkle the judges need to make their decision. They are completely wasting that opportunity, if his memories serves him correctly.
“I... I...” The boy is stammering and gripping his messenger bag in a way that drags a reluctant, sympathetic smile out of Kurt.
“What’s your name?” Kurt asks, hoping to settle his nerves.
“Uh, Blaine.”
“Well, uh, Blaine,” he teases gently. “I have a little performance to get to here in a bit, and I will be damned if I let them take my Sectionals solo away because I let the enemy into our base camp, so how about you wait for me in the cafe?”
Blaine gives him a weak smile.
“...and you have no idea where that is. Right.” Kurt takes another look at Blaine’s red tie. Nice try, new kid. “I’ll walk you. We don’t need you getting lost.”
Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and crinkles his nose in disgust at the sweaty state he finds his palm in.
Blaine is really quiet, but part of that could be because Kurt uncovered his reason for visiting Dalton Academy within moments of meeting him.
In Kurt’s defense, he really should have sprung for a more convincing tie. In fact, most prospective students come to Dalton for their pre-enrollment tours dressed in their own clothes.
He still remembers the first time he walked down the very same stairway, his limbs aching with each step. He probably should have still been on crutches, but he opted for the walking cast instead. He wanted to show them that they hadn’t broken him.
Kurt deposits Blaine in the tiny campus cafe in the main hall and slaps a five on the table. “Get me a non-fat mocha and stay put.” He turns at the entrance of the room and looks back at Blaine. “If anyone asks why you’re here, tell them you’re here visiting Kurt Anderson.”
-
When Kurt steps back into the cafe twenty minutes later, he’s half-expecting to find Blaine gone.
He’s almost impressed when he finds him sitting at the same table with two coffees in front of him.
“You stayed,” he says as he takes a seat opposite Blaine.
Blaine not only got his coffee, but he has placed the cardboard holder on top of the opening to keep the heat from escaping. It’s oddly considerate, seeing as Kurt pretty much barked the order at him.
“You told me to,” Blaine replies. He’s tearing at the cardboard holder of his coffee cup, and Kurt can’t help but watch the work of his nervous fingers.
“Do you do everything people tell you to do?”
Blaine looks up at Kurt and the corners of his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Not typically.”
“So, coming to spy on the competition. Who came up with that brilliant plan?” He takes a small sip of his mocha and he is pleased to find the temperature is perfect.
He stares down at the table. “Some of the guys in my glee club thought I should. I think they were trying to get rid of me.”
Kurt hates the pang of sympathy he’s feeling for Blaine, because it’s making it harder to stick to the plan. He’s supposed to be in here telling Blaine to inform his little glee club that the Dalton Academy Warblers will not hesitate to report them for spying if it happens again, but instead, he’s finding himself feeling a bit sorry for him.
How inconvenient.
“I doubt they meant it that way,” Kurt says carefully.
Blaine doesn’t respond. He keeps shredding the cardboard holder into tiny pieces.
Kurt recognizes his body language all too well - his shoulders are hunched like he’s trying to making himself smaller and he’s having trouble making eye contact with Kurt.
“Blaine?”
He looks up at Kurt like he’s been snapped out of a trace. “I... I really should be going. Thank you for the coffee.” Blaine suddenly looks panicked. “You did mean for me to get myself coffee, didn’t you? I mean, you didn’t ask for change so I assumed and...”
“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, louder this time, in hopes of cutting him off. Thankfully, it works. “Of course that’s what I meant.”
“I should get going...” He looks embarrassed, and as lovely as that splash of pink looks on his cheeks, Kurt wants to find a way to make him feel comfortable. “Like you said, I shouldn’t even really be here.”
“But here you are,” Kurt shrugs. “Might as well stay for awhile. It’s a bit of a drive back to Lima.”
“Two hours,” he nods.
“So you’re telling me that you drove two hours just to spy on us?”
“Not really, no,” Blaine admits. “I... I kind of wanted to check out Dalton, it’s a lot nicer than where I go to school.”
“We have chandeliers,” Kurt jokes. “They kind of have that effect on a place.”
“It’s not that,” he says quietly.
Public school wasn’t that long ago for Kurt. Sure, he’s been safe within the ivy-covered walls of Dalton for two years now, but he hasn’t forgotten what it’s like.
He’s expecting to hear that Blaine has been teased. Kids are mean, Kurt knows this. They hardly need an excuse for giving someone a hard time.
Kurt isn’t expecting Blaine’s quiet admission of - “I’m the only person out of the closet at my school.”
Oh. His mouth opens and closes a few times, because he’s been completely caught off guard. Sure, Blaine is cute and yeah, Kurt had been toeing the edge of flirty on the staircase, but that’s just how he is.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine chokes out. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Blaine.” He doesn’t mean to do it, because he can tell Blaine doesn’t want to be touched, but he reaches out and catches his wrist anyway. He needs to keep him from leaving. Blaine stiffens at first, but then he starts to relax at the touch. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I assure you.”
Kurt lets his hand linger on Blaine’s wrist. “I’m gay, Blaine.” He didn’t think he would actually have to tell Blaine this. He has always been under the impression that it was obvious to just about everyone. “You didn’t know?”
“I... oh.” Blaine’s expression softens. “I was taught that it wasn’t polite to assume.”
Kurt chuckles. “You are something else, Blaine.” He strokes the side of Blaine’s wrist once before letting go. “So, McKinley, right? That must be rough, considering everything.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Blaine mutters.
Oh, but I do. But this isn’t a game of who has the best sob story, so Kurt remains silent and listens intently. Kurt knows what it’s like to have to scream for attention, so the least he can do is give Blaine his.
“It sucks,” he says simply.
Kurt gives him a sympathetic shrug. “Sounds about right.”
“I can tell... people want to help.” Blaine is chewing his bottom lip. The boy is full of nervous habits, by the looks of it. “They act like they do, at least. But there’s such a big difference between wanting to help and actually doing something about it.”
There was a Facebook group for all of five minutes when Kurt was hospitalized. There were wall posts screaming of injustice, but no one actually did anything about what happened. He still remembers being able to hear the dance still going on inside of the gym while he left lying on the concrete with the taste of blood in his mouth.
Kurt assumes they moved on to a more worthy cause, possibly one involving the welfare of small animals.
“Most people are all talk, Blaine. That’s why you can’t trust them.” Kurt takes another sip of his coffee and trys to school his expression into something more neutral. It’s difficult. Blaine’s presence is bringing up memories that Kurt tries his best to bury. “You want my advice?”
Blaine nods.
“Lay low and keep your mouth shut.” Kurt can see Blaine opening his mouth to protest, but Kurt shakes his head. “I know, it sucks, but it’s the only thing that I’ve found that works. Just focus on when you are able to get out of Ohio, think of the amazing life you’re going to have. That will be the biggest ‘fuck you’ you can give anyone who gives you a hard time.”
“I don’t like them getting away with everything,” he frowns. “It’s not right.”
“You’re right,” Kurt smiles sadly. “It’s not, but I’ve found it’s not worth it to fight back.”
“So, Dalton...” Blaine looks around the intricately decorated cafe. Like most things at Dalton, it is full of unnecessary chandeliers and artwork. “Do you like it here?”
“Most days.” There are always days when Kurt misses his clothes and despises how strict the administration can be, but he enjoys Dalton for the most part. He feels safe there. “Dalton’s a good school. I mean, if throwing on a uniform and doo-wopping is going to get me one step closer to New York, I’m all over it.”
“New York?” Blaine asks.
“I’m thinking about applying to the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts.” He could talk for days about NYADA, but he wants to keep the focus on Blaine. “Have you thought about your plans for after school?”
“Not really. It seems so far away.”
“That’s why you plan,” Kurt says. “It makes the time go by faster.”
They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments as they finish their drinks.
“Hey, give me your phone,” Kurt asks suddenly.
Blaine pulls his phone out of pocket, but he clutches it close to his chest. “You aren’t going to hide it, are you?”
“No, dummy,” he rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m giving you my number. You know, in case you ever want to talk. Dalton isn’t exactly down the street, you know.”
“Oh, okay.” Blaine passes over his phone, and Kurt does the same with his iPhone.
He feels a little nosy scrolling through Blaine’s contacts, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from doing it. He sees a listing for Blaine’s father, along with the names Rachel Berry and Brittany Pierce. He tries to keep scrolling, but the list stops there.
Kurt wonders if McKinley is lonelier for Blaine than he originally thought.
“Here.” He hands the phone back to Blaine. “You can call me whenever, but if I’m in class it might take me a little while to respond.” He takes his phone back from Blaine, and finds himself unable to keep the smile off his face at the addition of Blaine Hummel :) to his contacts. “Or you could always text. I’m kind of amazing at discreet classroom texting.”
He gets a smile out of Blaine at that.
“I’m amazing at a lot of things, actually,” he continues. “It’s a shame you turned out to be a spy or I would have taken you to the performance in the senior commons myself.”
Kurt’s not one to brag, but...
Okay. He’s definitely one to brag.
“I looked you guys up before I came here, actually, but I couldn’t find anything with you on lead vocals,” Blaine says.
Of course he couldn’t find anything, and Kurt knows why. “That’s because they only just came to their senses and started giving me solos this year. It seems all they needed were a few competition losses to get them to shake things up a bit.”
Liar, liar, liar. He had only joined the Warblers last year. The mid-semester transfer during his freshman year left him feeling unsteady, like he needed to blend in.
Joining the Warblers isn’t a way to blend in.
It wasn’t until his sophomore year that he found his voice again.
The Warblers are nice, but he still doesn’t consider them friends. He can’t. Kurt can be polite, he can enjoy their company, but he likes the Warblers best when he keeps them at an arms length. Kurt has never been in it for the brotherhood. He just wants to sing.
“Well, you guys are really, really good,” Blaine admits, but reluctantly at that. He sounds disappointed, like he wasn’t expecting them to be. “I guess we have our work cut out for us at Sectionals.”
Kurt thinks of echoing the words he’s heard around the halls of Dalton Academy - the Warblers are like rockstars! He hears it enough, and it makes him roll his eyes each time. Being in an all-boys acapella group doesn’t make a person a rockstar. Being a rockstar does.
“Well, Blaine,” Kurt says as he extends his hand for him to shake. “May the best man win?”
“May the best man win.”