Miss Me, Kiss Me (SPAH Valentine Special)
Title: Miss Me, Kiss Me (SPAH Valentine Special)
author: infraredphaeton
summary: Valentine's means couples, means dramas, means making up.
a/n: Penny, I lied. It's not in this story.
warnings: LANGUAGE (Lee), implied violence, implied infidelity, implied boy kissing, implied boy-girl kissing. Eric. Lots of OCs.
Miss Me, Kiss Me (A Spah’s Valentine Special)
“Hi.” Blaine said, smiling charmingly.
“Hey,” Kurt replied eloquently.
“So, I came to surprise you.” Blaine said, leaning on the door frame.
“I am definitely surprised,” Kurt admitted, incredibly glad that he had already dressed, eaten, and styled his hair before the door bell had rung, “where are the kids?”
Blaine grinned sheepishly, “Asleep in the back of the car.”
“I feel like I’m dating a divorcee with children,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes, “if you want to bring them in, I’ll provide hot chocolate.”
Blaine smiled charmingly in gratitude, “You’re the best,” and kissed Kurt on the cheek.
“You know, we left the car about three minutes ago,” Wes said, appearing behind Blaine’s shoulder.
“Child lock doesn’t outwit us for long, Blainemeister.” David agreed.
“So we heard we’re getting a new Daddy, Blaine?” Wes asked, hanging on his shoulder.
“You’ll never be our real Mommy,” David told Kurt sourly.
“No, Davey, Kurt’s the Daddy. Blaine is our Mom.”
“What?” Kurt raised an eyebrow.
“Well, you obviously have more balls than him. Otherwise he would have greeted you with a cordial handshake instead of a kiss, because he never would have made it past hand holding.” Wes said, and the pair swept past Blaine and Kurt, into the house.
“And that would be horribly Victorian and repressed.” David said sadly.
“We want hot chocolate.”
“You promised us hot chocolate,” David agreed.
Kurt turned to watch them go, and then looked back at Blaine, smirking slightly.
“I know. I need to get over this whole driving alone thing.” Blaine admitted, smiling charmingly.
Kurt smiled, and leaned down to kiss his cheek again.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Blaine said back.
“Come on, we have to go feed your children.” Kurt said, still smiling.
“Our children, now,” Blaine laughed, and grabbed his hand.
“YOU AREN’T OUR REAL DADDY!” David called back from the kitchen.
“Hey, Harry,” Ben smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “Pratik.”
“Hey, Ben.” Harry smiled back, putting down his pen.
Pratik nodded over the guitar he was restringing, still focussed on the history papers he and Harry had been going over.
“So, uh, I wanted to say happy Valentine’s day,” Ben said, grabbing a small, wrapped box from his blazer pocket. “My Mum just came back from a trip to London, and well, this is for you, mate.”
“Oh!” Harry took the box, and smiled back, “Thanks, man.”
“Well? Open it!” Ben said, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Harry nodded and pulled the lid off the box. “Wow. Wow, oh my god, thank you. It’s awesome! Thank you! Say thanks to your Mom for me.”
Ben picked up the Blue Peter pin, and gestured at Harry’s badge covered lapels, “Um. Can I?”
“Yeah!” Harry said, turning his lapel towards the british boy. “Go ahead.”
Pratik’s fingers slipped on the E-string, and it sprung up, whipping him across the knuckles.
Ben fastened the badge with clumsy fingers, and tapped it once.
“Well, happy V-day, Harry.”
“I didn’t get you anything...” Harry said, and frowned, “Sorry.”
“I wasn’t expecting it,” Ben shrugged, “I just remembered you really liked the BBC, and Blue Peter badges are kind of a thing in the UK...”
“It’s awesome. Thank you.” Harry said, running his thumb over the blue and white shield.
“I also got loads of new DVDs, do you want to take a break and watch something?”
“I think I could be done in twenty minutes, if it’s alright waiting...Is twenty minutes longer okay with you?” Harry turned and asked Pratik.
“It makes no difference to me.” Pratik quoted, sucking on a knuckle to ease the pain of the sting.
“Cool. Then yeah, totally. I’ll see you in twenty minutes, Ben.”
“Bye!” Ben said, and waved, before walking off.
“Alright, now, Stalinism and the cult of personality...” Harry flipped to the right chapter, “This is probably going to come up on paper 2...”
Pratik blinked, “Um. I’m sorry, I can’t really concentrate right now.”
“Do you want to take a break?” Harry asked, closing his text book, “We can go get some of those Heart-Shaker smoothies. They’re dairy free and everything, so you’d be fine.”
Pratik shook his head.
“There’s a bake sale outside?” Harry suggested, “Cookies and stuff. And it’s not too bad, weather wise.”
“I’m not really...it’s fine. Go watch your thing with Ben. I’m just going to...” he gestured at the half stringed guitar.
“If you’re sure...” Harry said, and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later?”
Pratik nodded silently. Harry packed his books away and stood up. He waved on his way out.
“Pratik, darling, you look positively miserable.” Jim said, falling into Harry’s recently vacated chair.
“Where’s Lee?” Pratik asked, as he wound the last string onto the guitar and tested it with the opening to Should I Stay Or Should I Go.
“He’s putting my flowers in some water for me.”
“We need to rehearse.” Pratik said, standing up suddenly.
“It’s a Monday! Come on!” Jim whined, drooping over the table.
“Get Lee and meet me in the blue music room in five minutes.” Pratik said, and stalked off.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FpaK0nGebg
“I hate this holiday.” Kurt said, setting down his tray and falling onto the bench gracefully.
“You can shut your mouth,” Mercedes said, pointing a tater tot, speared on a fork, at him, “You have an adorable date for tonight. You’re gonna get some .”
“At the rate Blaine moves, I am going to be thirty before I reach second base. By the time I get some, I’ll be too old to enjoy it.” Kurt said, munching on a carrot stick.
“Mike is taking me out for Valentine’s dim sum.” Tina said, unpacking the lunch her boyfriend had presented to her this morning with a muttered ‘from my mom’.
“Are your carrots cut into love hearts?” Mercedes asked, leaning over to look at the boxed lunch.
“So are your...whatever those are...” Kurt observed, tilting his head on one side.
“Water chestnuts, I think.” Tina said, “It’s really sweet....but I really want some junk food.”
Tina sighed and pushed the box into the centre of the table.
“Help yourself, guys. I’m going to buy some cheetoes.” Tina said, standing up.
“Ooh, I call dibs on the X and O patterned pot stickers!” Mercedes said, grinning.
“Tofu is mine. Back off, bitches,” Kurt replied, stabbing a heart shaped piece of soy neatly.
It crumbled around his fork, splitting in two.
“I refuse to see this as foreshadowing, so don’t start with me,” Kurt said, scooping up the tofu and popping it into his mouth.
“Bad juju,” Mercedes muttered dramatically, eating a potsticker.
“Delicious juju.” Kurt corrected her, stabbing another tofu heart, “Tasty, tasty juju.”
“Which tie?” David asked Wes and Blaine, holding the two different pieces of fabric- one a bright jewel green, the other a deep maroon colour- up against his black button up.
“Miranda’s in town, eh?” Blaine asked, looking up from his Maths project.
“I’m taking her out to dinner tonight,” David nodded, “Now, answer. Green or red?”
“Blue.” Eric said contrarily, from on top of Liam’s table. The taller boy was blotchily pale and red, and his eyes were glassily sick. Harry was hovering next to him, checking his temperature and tutting at his swollen glands.
“Not an option, Eric.”
“I like blue.” Eric replied sulkily.
“Guys. Come on. Red or blue?” David frowned, “I mean, green. Red or green.”
“Calm down, Davey. She’s dating you already, you don’t need to worry so much.” Wes said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I AM NOT WORRYING! WHO TOLD YOU I WAS WORRYING?” David flailed, dropping both ties and collapsing on Wes’ shoulder.
“Shh.” Wes said calmly, stroking his fuzzy head. “Everything will be okay.”
“What if she hates me now?!” David wailed, and Blaine changed the channel, humming as Myth Busters came on. “BLAINE I AM HAVING A CRISIS STOP WATCHING THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL!”
“You always have a crisis when Miranda comes to town,” Blaine said boredly, watching a ninja try and catch an arrow.
“DO NOT MOCK MY CRISES, BLAINE!”
“Wear the green tie, Davey. Also, shoes.” Wes advised, “Shoes are important.”
“I knew I forgot something!” David smacked his forehead, and ran for the dorms.
“Whenever Miranda comes to town, things get so eventful,” Harry observed, “Liam, you need to go to the nurse.”
“Are you sure?” asked the soccer-player unhappily, “I could just skip and sleep for a while.”
“No, you definitely need the nurse.” Harry said, “You’ve got a fever, your glands are swollen, and your voice is practically gone.”
“Sounds like mono.” Jim said helpfully.
Eric raised an eyebrow at Liam, “Why would you have mono?”
“I don’t have mono! Jim, what are you even doing here? You should be in Hallman!” Liam snapped at the blond, who shrugged.
“Band meeting. Harold and Tiki fear Hallman.”
“That’s what the music room is for!” Liam coughed.
“Too many stairs.” Jim whined, flopping over on the couch.
“Go to the nurse, Liam.” Harry said, shaking his thermometer at the taller boy, “Or I’ll report you myself.
Liam sighed heavily and stood up, shuffling out of the common room.
“Hi, Kurt.”
“Hey, Blaine.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“...Thanks, Blaine. I’m actually in the middle of English class.”
“Mr. Hummel! Is that a phone?!”
“Bye!”
“....bye.”
“Okay, guys. So I know you’re all itching to get a solo.” Mr. Matthews said, leaning back on the table he kept at the front of the music room.
“Not Blaine!” Jim called out, crossing his arms. Blaine, who was looking at his phone with a look of despair, looked up at the mention of his name, before sighing and going back to staring at his phone.
“Jim, don’t. I know you all want to sing up front. And that’s totally fine. But it’s not going to happen in competition. Not everybody is going to get a chance. And, yeah, it kind of sucks.” Mr Matthews said, shaking his head, “So, I want you all to get a chance to sing something either today or tomorrow. Anything you like- school appropriate-”
Blaine’s hand shot up.
“-not Katy Perry, Blaine-”
Blaine’s hand went down.
“And I want it to be good. Split up into groups of three or four, please. You’ll be helping each other, so everyone will perform several times in different positions.”
“....This is just a trick to get us to switch places in chorus, isn’t it?” Gary asked suspiciously.
“You caught me! But also for fun.” Mr. Matthews said cheerfully. “Split up, boys. Everyone needs a group.”
The Warblers splintered into groups- some expected, some... not.
David grabbed Blaine and Wes by their sleeves as soon as Mr. Matthews told them to split into groups. Harry put a hand on Pratik’s shoulder, while Jim and Lee drifted over to group with them. Gary gave the two nearest geeks a raised eyebrow, and they obediently followed him. Eventually, the room emptied of boys, all going to find a space to pick music or practice songs they already knew.
“They forgot me.” Eric said sadly, from his position on top of the piano. Mr Matthews bit his lip, eyes sad, and came over, clapping Eric on the shoulder.
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to.”
“Yes they did. I know I am not a likable person, Mr. Matthews. Don’t lie.”
“Some people like you. Come on, we’ll go get some jello.” Mr Matthews squeezed him round the shoulder. “Then we’ll find you a group to work with. You’ll blow them out of the water.”
“I don’t want to work with any of them.” Eric said sourly.
“Not optional, Eric. It’s an assignment.”
Eric hopped off the table, scowling darkly, and picked up his bag, ready to follow Mr. Matthews out, when the music room door opened.
“Hey.”
“Liam?” Mr. Matthews blinked, “You don’t sound good.”
“I’m sick.” Liam said, shrugging listlessly. He wasn’t in proper uniform, but instead his navy blue Dalton track pants and a baggy Keiran hoodie. His hair was even curlier, tufted and messy, and he was pale and tired looking.
“What are you doing here? If I catch your disease, I’ll be really angry at you.” Eric said, crossing his arms. “I will cover your sheets in peanut butter.”
“I heard that you didn’t have a partner,” Liam said, “I’d like to volunteer.”
“Well, that sounds like a good solution, here.” Mr. Matthews said, “Liam, take it easy and relax. You guys can have an extension until your voice comes back properly.”
“But...”
“Relax, Eric. You guys just figure what you’ll be performing.” Mr. Matthews said, smiling at the pair, “You can use the computer in my office.”
“Hey, Mr. Schue. I was wondering, I’ve been kind of working on something. For Valentine’s day,” Finn said, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Sure, Finn. Take it away,” Mr. Schue said, and stepped back, allowing Finn to address the group.
“So I was listening to some classic rock- Journey, some Boston- and I was thinking about my girlfriend- that’s Rachel- and what I should do for Valentine’s day.” Finn said, thinking back to their date on Friday night.
“So I just want you to know, Finn. I want to be entirely charmed by your actions on Valentine’s day, and I don’t mean just flowers and chocolates, although you should know that the grocery store currently has a range of particularly lovely vegan chocolates, and my favourite are the happy soy pralines.” Rachel said.
Finn blinked.
“...Okay.”
Rachel patted him on the shoulder and restarted the DVD they were watching.
“So obviously, I had to come up with the most romantic thing I could. And because I know you love music and you eventually want someone to propose to you by singing-”
“The seminal classic, ‘L.O.V.E.’.” Rachel specified, from her seat in the front row.
“Right.” FInn nodded, “So I figured I’d sing you my Valentine.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HljVUPvHk9I
Finn smiled, holding the last note, and then stood up properly.
Rachel smiled, charmed, before frowning, "Finn, as lovely as that was, my eyes are brown, not green."
"...Well, I mean, yeah, but I couldn't find a song like that for brown eyes."
Rachel stood up, smoothing down her skirt.
"Did you like it?"
She grinned, and tackled him with a hug, "I loved it!"
Mr. Schue clapped, nodding happily as he looked around the class.
“Very cool, Finn. Alright guys. Let’s get down to business. I have a fantastic piece for us to work on. Mercedes, Rachel, I want you guys to take the front.”
“What?” Rachel asked, “I have to share?”
“About time!” Mercedes and Kurt high fived, and Mercedes grinned, strutting down off the riser.
“I have no doubt you guys will rock this.” Mr. Schue said confidently, handing out the sheet music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3bzXdW-7AQ&feature=related
“I thought you had a motherfucking date tonight.” Lee asked, frowning at the curled up blond on the couch.
Jim was still in one of his ‘date night’ outfits- dark, sinfully tight jeans, with a silky sky blue shirt that was unbuttoned to the mid chest. The shoes he’d been wearing, handmade black boots with a cuban heel and fantastically soft leather, were lined up against the couch, the empty tops sagging against the purple cloth.
“Mm. Didn’t work out.” Jim said quietly, holding his jacket- black leather, same as the boots, Jim must have looked amazing, dressed to the nines and smiling the confident smile he always wore when he left on a date with a quickly said ‘don’t wait up, love!’- closer, as if he was cold.
“Didn’t fucking work out?” Lee asked, frowning, and sat on the arm of the couch.
The TV was playing Tank Girl. Jim played Tank Girl as a comfort movie. Or a happy movie. Or an ‘I’m sick’ movie. Lee shook his head. This information didn’t help.
“What the hell happened?”
“Nothing, love, don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” Jim said, restarting the movie.
“Jim...” Lee trailed off, “Jim, look at me.”
Jim darted a look at him out of the corner of his eye, not turning.
“Jim,” Lee said, eerily calm, “is there a reason you won’t let me look at the right side of your face?”
“None in particular, my little Irish storm cloud.” Jim lied.
Lee could always tell when Jim was lying.
He stood up and circled round the couch. Jim tried to hide the side of his face with his arm, but he didn’t move fast enough.
The purple of the bruise was morbidly similar to the Hallman colours in the common room.
“...He hit you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Jim nodded anyway.
“You hit him back.”
Jim nodded, showing him the bruised knuckles he’d been hiding in his jacket sleeve.
“...Right. What’s the cunt’s name?” Lee asked, hand hovering just above the bruise on Jim’s face.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Lee, I can take care of myself.” Jim said stiffly, moving his jaw a little to test the ache.
“I fucking know that, Jim. I’ve seen you walk through stalkers and abusive assholes and those motherfucking wives who think you shagged their husbands for shits and giggles,” Lee said angrily, “I know you can take care of yourself. I just want to fucking hurt this cockshite for hurting you.”
He touched the bruise gently. There was a cut in it- the bastard had been wearing a ring. The bruise was too big for a teenager’s hand, too. Someone older. Older and wearing a ring...
“He married?”
“Felix Alvarez.” Jim admitted, “And I didn’t think so. Til his partner turned up, anyway.”
“He the one who gave you this?” Lee asked, and saw Jim tug at the cuffs of his sleeves, “It’s not just this, is it?”
Jim shrugged.
“He fucking beat you up, didn’t he?”
There was a second of silence. Lee blinked, coming to a realisation.
“Oh, that motherfucker. It wasn’t just him, was it? It was both of them. Both those cocksuckers beat you up.”
Jim nodded hesitantly.
“‘M gonna those fuckers’ house down.” Lee said furiously, and stood up, heading for his room, his jacket, and his lighter.
Just as he was reaching the exit, Jim coughed delicately to catch his attention.
“What the fuck is it, Jim? I’m not going to let this go. Bitches gon’ die.” Lee snapped.
“Language, darling.” Jim said, smiling painfully, “And, quite frankly, I’d rather not have to call your father in the middle of the night on Valentine’s day when you get arrested.”
“I want them to hurt, Jim.” Lee ground out.
“I know, darling, but I want you to not be in jail tonight. Make it up to me another way.” Jim said, hugging his knees to his chest.
Lee looked between the door and the despondent Jim on the couch and let out a whine of frustration.
“You’re so fucking difficult.” Lee sulked, slinking back over to the couch and sitting next to Jim.
“You love me, don’t front.” Jim smirked.
Lee looked at him- bruised face, bleeding cheek, beautiful eyes and sexy clothes. Artfully tousled hair and busted lip.
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Jim.” he muttered, reddening, and lifted a hand to Jim’s face.
The blond swatted it away, “I’m fine, stop fussing.”
“S’fucking depressing, you being inside on Valentine’s day,” Lee muttered.
“Well, I can’t exactly call someone up for a good time when I look like this.” Jim gestured at his face.
“Like what?” Lee asked.
Beautiful.
“Horribly disfigured.” Jim said, smirking, “Although I make a damn sexy assault and battery victim.”
“Get your fucking coat,” Lee said, standing up suddenly.
“What?” Jim frowned, and then winced at the movement, “I’m not going with you to burn down Felix’s house.”
“I damn well got that, didn’t I?” Lee crossed his arms, “C’mon, Jim, get your mother fucking coat.”
Jim shrugged, and put his jacket on again, standing up.
“We’re going out.”
“What the hell?” Jim asked, “I’m horribly disfigured. I can’t go out in public like this!”
Lee breathed in deeply, “You’re fucking stunning, even with the bruises. Go out to dinner with me.”
Jim blinked, “O-okay.”
Lee nodded sharply, “And after dinner, we burn a fucktard’s house.”
Jim smiled a little, “That sounds delightful.”
Kurt tapped his fingers against the table in a rolling pattern.
“Hello, father.”
“David?” Kurt asked, frowning. David was dressed impeccably, as always, in a dark button up shirt and a jewel bright green tie. “What are you doing here?”
Wes appeared on Kurt’s other side, dressed similarly in a dark shirt, although his tie was a pale silver rather than green.
“Don’t tell me he made you guys drive out here with him for dinner with me?”
David cleared his throat.
“...You’re freaking me out, guys.”
That was when Blaine appeared between them.
“So, we had an assignment today in music.”
“....hello, Blaine.”
“We were asked if we could sing something, anything, what would we sing, and to who.” Blaine smiled charmingly, “It’s why I called you.”
“...oh.”
“So, without further ado,” Blaine smiled, and gestured at Wes and David.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75OSZElYB9E
By the end of the first verse, Kurt was smiling like an idiot.
By the end of the song, he was bright red and grinning.
“Are we dismissed?” David asked, as Blaine finished the last note with a slowly lowered fist.
“You can go now, yes.”
“I’m so glad,” Wes said dryly, “C’mon, David. Ice cream.”
Blaine sat down, loosening his tie a little.
“So?” he asked, smiling charmingly- but still nervously.
“...That was adorable.” Kurt said, “I loved it.”
“Good. Because I’m not a flowers and chocolates kind of guy.”
“You’re a black mail your best friends into singing back up for you while you serenade kind of guy,” Kurt agreed.
“Happy Valentine’s day?” Blaine asked, putting his hand over Kurt’s.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Blaine.”
author: infraredphaeton
summary: Valentine's means couples, means dramas, means making up.
a/n: Penny, I lied. It's not in this story.
warnings: LANGUAGE (Lee), implied violence, implied infidelity, implied boy kissing, implied boy-girl kissing. Eric. Lots of OCs.
Miss Me, Kiss Me (A Spah’s Valentine Special)
“Hi.” Blaine said, smiling charmingly.
“Hey,” Kurt replied eloquently.
“So, I came to surprise you.” Blaine said, leaning on the door frame.
“I am definitely surprised,” Kurt admitted, incredibly glad that he had already dressed, eaten, and styled his hair before the door bell had rung, “where are the kids?”
Blaine grinned sheepishly, “Asleep in the back of the car.”
“I feel like I’m dating a divorcee with children,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes, “if you want to bring them in, I’ll provide hot chocolate.”
Blaine smiled charmingly in gratitude, “You’re the best,” and kissed Kurt on the cheek.
“You know, we left the car about three minutes ago,” Wes said, appearing behind Blaine’s shoulder.
“Child lock doesn’t outwit us for long, Blainemeister.” David agreed.
“So we heard we’re getting a new Daddy, Blaine?” Wes asked, hanging on his shoulder.
“You’ll never be our real Mommy,” David told Kurt sourly.
“No, Davey, Kurt’s the Daddy. Blaine is our Mom.”
“What?” Kurt raised an eyebrow.
“Well, you obviously have more balls than him. Otherwise he would have greeted you with a cordial handshake instead of a kiss, because he never would have made it past hand holding.” Wes said, and the pair swept past Blaine and Kurt, into the house.
“And that would be horribly Victorian and repressed.” David said sadly.
“We want hot chocolate.”
“You promised us hot chocolate,” David agreed.
Kurt turned to watch them go, and then looked back at Blaine, smirking slightly.
“I know. I need to get over this whole driving alone thing.” Blaine admitted, smiling charmingly.
Kurt smiled, and leaned down to kiss his cheek again.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Blaine said back.
“Come on, we have to go feed your children.” Kurt said, still smiling.
“Our children, now,” Blaine laughed, and grabbed his hand.
“YOU AREN’T OUR REAL DADDY!” David called back from the kitchen.
“Hey, Harry,” Ben smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “Pratik.”
“Hey, Ben.” Harry smiled back, putting down his pen.
Pratik nodded over the guitar he was restringing, still focussed on the history papers he and Harry had been going over.
“So, uh, I wanted to say happy Valentine’s day,” Ben said, grabbing a small, wrapped box from his blazer pocket. “My Mum just came back from a trip to London, and well, this is for you, mate.”
“Oh!” Harry took the box, and smiled back, “Thanks, man.”
“Well? Open it!” Ben said, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Harry nodded and pulled the lid off the box. “Wow. Wow, oh my god, thank you. It’s awesome! Thank you! Say thanks to your Mom for me.”
Ben picked up the Blue Peter pin, and gestured at Harry’s badge covered lapels, “Um. Can I?”
“Yeah!” Harry said, turning his lapel towards the british boy. “Go ahead.”
Pratik’s fingers slipped on the E-string, and it sprung up, whipping him across the knuckles.
Ben fastened the badge with clumsy fingers, and tapped it once.
“Well, happy V-day, Harry.”
“I didn’t get you anything...” Harry said, and frowned, “Sorry.”
“I wasn’t expecting it,” Ben shrugged, “I just remembered you really liked the BBC, and Blue Peter badges are kind of a thing in the UK...”
“It’s awesome. Thank you.” Harry said, running his thumb over the blue and white shield.
“I also got loads of new DVDs, do you want to take a break and watch something?”
“I think I could be done in twenty minutes, if it’s alright waiting...Is twenty minutes longer okay with you?” Harry turned and asked Pratik.
“It makes no difference to me.” Pratik quoted, sucking on a knuckle to ease the pain of the sting.
“Cool. Then yeah, totally. I’ll see you in twenty minutes, Ben.”
“Bye!” Ben said, and waved, before walking off.
“Alright, now, Stalinism and the cult of personality...” Harry flipped to the right chapter, “This is probably going to come up on paper 2...”
Pratik blinked, “Um. I’m sorry, I can’t really concentrate right now.”
“Do you want to take a break?” Harry asked, closing his text book, “We can go get some of those Heart-Shaker smoothies. They’re dairy free and everything, so you’d be fine.”
Pratik shook his head.
“There’s a bake sale outside?” Harry suggested, “Cookies and stuff. And it’s not too bad, weather wise.”
“I’m not really...it’s fine. Go watch your thing with Ben. I’m just going to...” he gestured at the half stringed guitar.
“If you’re sure...” Harry said, and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later?”
Pratik nodded silently. Harry packed his books away and stood up. He waved on his way out.
“Pratik, darling, you look positively miserable.” Jim said, falling into Harry’s recently vacated chair.
“Where’s Lee?” Pratik asked, as he wound the last string onto the guitar and tested it with the opening to Should I Stay Or Should I Go.
“He’s putting my flowers in some water for me.”
“We need to rehearse.” Pratik said, standing up suddenly.
“It’s a Monday! Come on!” Jim whined, drooping over the table.
“Get Lee and meet me in the blue music room in five minutes.” Pratik said, and stalked off.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FpaK0nGebg
“I hate this holiday.” Kurt said, setting down his tray and falling onto the bench gracefully.
“You can shut your mouth,” Mercedes said, pointing a tater tot, speared on a fork, at him, “You have an adorable date for tonight. You’re gonna get some .”
“At the rate Blaine moves, I am going to be thirty before I reach second base. By the time I get some, I’ll be too old to enjoy it.” Kurt said, munching on a carrot stick.
“Mike is taking me out for Valentine’s dim sum.” Tina said, unpacking the lunch her boyfriend had presented to her this morning with a muttered ‘from my mom’.
“Are your carrots cut into love hearts?” Mercedes asked, leaning over to look at the boxed lunch.
“So are your...whatever those are...” Kurt observed, tilting his head on one side.
“Water chestnuts, I think.” Tina said, “It’s really sweet....but I really want some junk food.”
Tina sighed and pushed the box into the centre of the table.
“Help yourself, guys. I’m going to buy some cheetoes.” Tina said, standing up.
“Ooh, I call dibs on the X and O patterned pot stickers!” Mercedes said, grinning.
“Tofu is mine. Back off, bitches,” Kurt replied, stabbing a heart shaped piece of soy neatly.
It crumbled around his fork, splitting in two.
“I refuse to see this as foreshadowing, so don’t start with me,” Kurt said, scooping up the tofu and popping it into his mouth.
“Bad juju,” Mercedes muttered dramatically, eating a potsticker.
“Delicious juju.” Kurt corrected her, stabbing another tofu heart, “Tasty, tasty juju.”
“Which tie?” David asked Wes and Blaine, holding the two different pieces of fabric- one a bright jewel green, the other a deep maroon colour- up against his black button up.
“Miranda’s in town, eh?” Blaine asked, looking up from his Maths project.
“I’m taking her out to dinner tonight,” David nodded, “Now, answer. Green or red?”
“Blue.” Eric said contrarily, from on top of Liam’s table. The taller boy was blotchily pale and red, and his eyes were glassily sick. Harry was hovering next to him, checking his temperature and tutting at his swollen glands.
“Not an option, Eric.”
“I like blue.” Eric replied sulkily.
“Guys. Come on. Red or blue?” David frowned, “I mean, green. Red or green.”
“Calm down, Davey. She’s dating you already, you don’t need to worry so much.” Wes said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I AM NOT WORRYING! WHO TOLD YOU I WAS WORRYING?” David flailed, dropping both ties and collapsing on Wes’ shoulder.
“Shh.” Wes said calmly, stroking his fuzzy head. “Everything will be okay.”
“What if she hates me now?!” David wailed, and Blaine changed the channel, humming as Myth Busters came on. “BLAINE I AM HAVING A CRISIS STOP WATCHING THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL!”
“You always have a crisis when Miranda comes to town,” Blaine said boredly, watching a ninja try and catch an arrow.
“DO NOT MOCK MY CRISES, BLAINE!”
“Wear the green tie, Davey. Also, shoes.” Wes advised, “Shoes are important.”
“I knew I forgot something!” David smacked his forehead, and ran for the dorms.
“Whenever Miranda comes to town, things get so eventful,” Harry observed, “Liam, you need to go to the nurse.”
“Are you sure?” asked the soccer-player unhappily, “I could just skip and sleep for a while.”
“No, you definitely need the nurse.” Harry said, “You’ve got a fever, your glands are swollen, and your voice is practically gone.”
“Sounds like mono.” Jim said helpfully.
Eric raised an eyebrow at Liam, “Why would you have mono?”
“I don’t have mono! Jim, what are you even doing here? You should be in Hallman!” Liam snapped at the blond, who shrugged.
“Band meeting. Harold and Tiki fear Hallman.”
“That’s what the music room is for!” Liam coughed.
“Too many stairs.” Jim whined, flopping over on the couch.
“Go to the nurse, Liam.” Harry said, shaking his thermometer at the taller boy, “Or I’ll report you myself.
Liam sighed heavily and stood up, shuffling out of the common room.
“Hi, Kurt.”
“Hey, Blaine.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“...Thanks, Blaine. I’m actually in the middle of English class.”
“Mr. Hummel! Is that a phone?!”
“Bye!”
“....bye.”
“Okay, guys. So I know you’re all itching to get a solo.” Mr. Matthews said, leaning back on the table he kept at the front of the music room.
“Not Blaine!” Jim called out, crossing his arms. Blaine, who was looking at his phone with a look of despair, looked up at the mention of his name, before sighing and going back to staring at his phone.
“Jim, don’t. I know you all want to sing up front. And that’s totally fine. But it’s not going to happen in competition. Not everybody is going to get a chance. And, yeah, it kind of sucks.” Mr Matthews said, shaking his head, “So, I want you all to get a chance to sing something either today or tomorrow. Anything you like- school appropriate-”
Blaine’s hand shot up.
“-not Katy Perry, Blaine-”
Blaine’s hand went down.
“And I want it to be good. Split up into groups of three or four, please. You’ll be helping each other, so everyone will perform several times in different positions.”
“....This is just a trick to get us to switch places in chorus, isn’t it?” Gary asked suspiciously.
“You caught me! But also for fun.” Mr. Matthews said cheerfully. “Split up, boys. Everyone needs a group.”
The Warblers splintered into groups- some expected, some... not.
David grabbed Blaine and Wes by their sleeves as soon as Mr. Matthews told them to split into groups. Harry put a hand on Pratik’s shoulder, while Jim and Lee drifted over to group with them. Gary gave the two nearest geeks a raised eyebrow, and they obediently followed him. Eventually, the room emptied of boys, all going to find a space to pick music or practice songs they already knew.
“They forgot me.” Eric said sadly, from his position on top of the piano. Mr Matthews bit his lip, eyes sad, and came over, clapping Eric on the shoulder.
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to.”
“Yes they did. I know I am not a likable person, Mr. Matthews. Don’t lie.”
“Some people like you. Come on, we’ll go get some jello.” Mr Matthews squeezed him round the shoulder. “Then we’ll find you a group to work with. You’ll blow them out of the water.”
“I don’t want to work with any of them.” Eric said sourly.
“Not optional, Eric. It’s an assignment.”
Eric hopped off the table, scowling darkly, and picked up his bag, ready to follow Mr. Matthews out, when the music room door opened.
“Hey.”
“Liam?” Mr. Matthews blinked, “You don’t sound good.”
“I’m sick.” Liam said, shrugging listlessly. He wasn’t in proper uniform, but instead his navy blue Dalton track pants and a baggy Keiran hoodie. His hair was even curlier, tufted and messy, and he was pale and tired looking.
“What are you doing here? If I catch your disease, I’ll be really angry at you.” Eric said, crossing his arms. “I will cover your sheets in peanut butter.”
“I heard that you didn’t have a partner,” Liam said, “I’d like to volunteer.”
“Well, that sounds like a good solution, here.” Mr. Matthews said, “Liam, take it easy and relax. You guys can have an extension until your voice comes back properly.”
“But...”
“Relax, Eric. You guys just figure what you’ll be performing.” Mr. Matthews said, smiling at the pair, “You can use the computer in my office.”
“Hey, Mr. Schue. I was wondering, I’ve been kind of working on something. For Valentine’s day,” Finn said, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Sure, Finn. Take it away,” Mr. Schue said, and stepped back, allowing Finn to address the group.
“So I was listening to some classic rock- Journey, some Boston- and I was thinking about my girlfriend- that’s Rachel- and what I should do for Valentine’s day.” Finn said, thinking back to their date on Friday night.
“So I just want you to know, Finn. I want to be entirely charmed by your actions on Valentine’s day, and I don’t mean just flowers and chocolates, although you should know that the grocery store currently has a range of particularly lovely vegan chocolates, and my favourite are the happy soy pralines.” Rachel said.
Finn blinked.
“...Okay.”
Rachel patted him on the shoulder and restarted the DVD they were watching.
“So obviously, I had to come up with the most romantic thing I could. And because I know you love music and you eventually want someone to propose to you by singing-”
“The seminal classic, ‘L.O.V.E.’.” Rachel specified, from her seat in the front row.
“Right.” FInn nodded, “So I figured I’d sing you my Valentine.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HljVUPvHk9I
Finn smiled, holding the last note, and then stood up properly.
Rachel smiled, charmed, before frowning, "Finn, as lovely as that was, my eyes are brown, not green."
"...Well, I mean, yeah, but I couldn't find a song like that for brown eyes."
Rachel stood up, smoothing down her skirt.
"Did you like it?"
She grinned, and tackled him with a hug, "I loved it!"
Mr. Schue clapped, nodding happily as he looked around the class.
“Very cool, Finn. Alright guys. Let’s get down to business. I have a fantastic piece for us to work on. Mercedes, Rachel, I want you guys to take the front.”
“What?” Rachel asked, “I have to share?”
“About time!” Mercedes and Kurt high fived, and Mercedes grinned, strutting down off the riser.
“I have no doubt you guys will rock this.” Mr. Schue said confidently, handing out the sheet music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3bzXdW-7AQ&feature=related
“I thought you had a motherfucking date tonight.” Lee asked, frowning at the curled up blond on the couch.
Jim was still in one of his ‘date night’ outfits- dark, sinfully tight jeans, with a silky sky blue shirt that was unbuttoned to the mid chest. The shoes he’d been wearing, handmade black boots with a cuban heel and fantastically soft leather, were lined up against the couch, the empty tops sagging against the purple cloth.
“Mm. Didn’t work out.” Jim said quietly, holding his jacket- black leather, same as the boots, Jim must have looked amazing, dressed to the nines and smiling the confident smile he always wore when he left on a date with a quickly said ‘don’t wait up, love!’- closer, as if he was cold.
“Didn’t fucking work out?” Lee asked, frowning, and sat on the arm of the couch.
The TV was playing Tank Girl. Jim played Tank Girl as a comfort movie. Or a happy movie. Or an ‘I’m sick’ movie. Lee shook his head. This information didn’t help.
“What the hell happened?”
“Nothing, love, don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” Jim said, restarting the movie.
“Jim...” Lee trailed off, “Jim, look at me.”
Jim darted a look at him out of the corner of his eye, not turning.
“Jim,” Lee said, eerily calm, “is there a reason you won’t let me look at the right side of your face?”
“None in particular, my little Irish storm cloud.” Jim lied.
Lee could always tell when Jim was lying.
He stood up and circled round the couch. Jim tried to hide the side of his face with his arm, but he didn’t move fast enough.
The purple of the bruise was morbidly similar to the Hallman colours in the common room.
“...He hit you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Jim nodded anyway.
“You hit him back.”
Jim nodded, showing him the bruised knuckles he’d been hiding in his jacket sleeve.
“...Right. What’s the cunt’s name?” Lee asked, hand hovering just above the bruise on Jim’s face.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Lee, I can take care of myself.” Jim said stiffly, moving his jaw a little to test the ache.
“I fucking know that, Jim. I’ve seen you walk through stalkers and abusive assholes and those motherfucking wives who think you shagged their husbands for shits and giggles,” Lee said angrily, “I know you can take care of yourself. I just want to fucking hurt this cockshite for hurting you.”
He touched the bruise gently. There was a cut in it- the bastard had been wearing a ring. The bruise was too big for a teenager’s hand, too. Someone older. Older and wearing a ring...
“He married?”
“Felix Alvarez.” Jim admitted, “And I didn’t think so. Til his partner turned up, anyway.”
“He the one who gave you this?” Lee asked, and saw Jim tug at the cuffs of his sleeves, “It’s not just this, is it?”
Jim shrugged.
“He fucking beat you up, didn’t he?”
There was a second of silence. Lee blinked, coming to a realisation.
“Oh, that motherfucker. It wasn’t just him, was it? It was both of them. Both those cocksuckers beat you up.”
Jim nodded hesitantly.
“‘M gonna those fuckers’ house down.” Lee said furiously, and stood up, heading for his room, his jacket, and his lighter.
Just as he was reaching the exit, Jim coughed delicately to catch his attention.
“What the fuck is it, Jim? I’m not going to let this go. Bitches gon’ die.” Lee snapped.
“Language, darling.” Jim said, smiling painfully, “And, quite frankly, I’d rather not have to call your father in the middle of the night on Valentine’s day when you get arrested.”
“I want them to hurt, Jim.” Lee ground out.
“I know, darling, but I want you to not be in jail tonight. Make it up to me another way.” Jim said, hugging his knees to his chest.
Lee looked between the door and the despondent Jim on the couch and let out a whine of frustration.
“You’re so fucking difficult.” Lee sulked, slinking back over to the couch and sitting next to Jim.
“You love me, don’t front.” Jim smirked.
Lee looked at him- bruised face, bleeding cheek, beautiful eyes and sexy clothes. Artfully tousled hair and busted lip.
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Jim.” he muttered, reddening, and lifted a hand to Jim’s face.
The blond swatted it away, “I’m fine, stop fussing.”
“S’fucking depressing, you being inside on Valentine’s day,” Lee muttered.
“Well, I can’t exactly call someone up for a good time when I look like this.” Jim gestured at his face.
“Like what?” Lee asked.
Beautiful.
“Horribly disfigured.” Jim said, smirking, “Although I make a damn sexy assault and battery victim.”
“Get your fucking coat,” Lee said, standing up suddenly.
“What?” Jim frowned, and then winced at the movement, “I’m not going with you to burn down Felix’s house.”
“I damn well got that, didn’t I?” Lee crossed his arms, “C’mon, Jim, get your mother fucking coat.”
Jim shrugged, and put his jacket on again, standing up.
“We’re going out.”
“What the hell?” Jim asked, “I’m horribly disfigured. I can’t go out in public like this!”
Lee breathed in deeply, “You’re fucking stunning, even with the bruises. Go out to dinner with me.”
Jim blinked, “O-okay.”
Lee nodded sharply, “And after dinner, we burn a fucktard’s house.”
Jim smiled a little, “That sounds delightful.”
Kurt tapped his fingers against the table in a rolling pattern.
“Hello, father.”
“David?” Kurt asked, frowning. David was dressed impeccably, as always, in a dark button up shirt and a jewel bright green tie. “What are you doing here?”
Wes appeared on Kurt’s other side, dressed similarly in a dark shirt, although his tie was a pale silver rather than green.
“Don’t tell me he made you guys drive out here with him for dinner with me?”
David cleared his throat.
“...You’re freaking me out, guys.”
That was when Blaine appeared between them.
“So, we had an assignment today in music.”
“....hello, Blaine.”
“We were asked if we could sing something, anything, what would we sing, and to who.” Blaine smiled charmingly, “It’s why I called you.”
“...oh.”
“So, without further ado,” Blaine smiled, and gestured at Wes and David.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75OSZElYB9E
By the end of the first verse, Kurt was smiling like an idiot.
By the end of the song, he was bright red and grinning.
“Are we dismissed?” David asked, as Blaine finished the last note with a slowly lowered fist.
“You can go now, yes.”
“I’m so glad,” Wes said dryly, “C’mon, David. Ice cream.”
Blaine sat down, loosening his tie a little.
“So?” he asked, smiling charmingly- but still nervously.
“...That was adorable.” Kurt said, “I loved it.”
“Good. Because I’m not a flowers and chocolates kind of guy.”
“You’re a black mail your best friends into singing back up for you while you serenade kind of guy,” Kurt agreed.
“Happy Valentine’s day?” Blaine asked, putting his hand over Kurt’s.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Blaine.”