fic: not another soul could love you like my rotten bones do (1/2)
Title: Not Another Soul Could Love You Like My Rotten Bones Do
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 11,700
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title from the song The Spirit of Jazz by The Gaslight Anthem
Summary: Kurt Hummel is McKinley High's resident badboy. His father has had enough and so Kurt is sent to Dalton Academy to get his act together. There he meets prim and proper Blaine Anderson and Kurt decides to rattle up Blaine's perfect ways.
Warnings: Violence, language, homophobic slurs and underage smoking.
A/N: This happened because of the badboy/reform craze that has taken over Tumblr. (and really, I hope it never leaves). Written by a prompt from bethmai. It was supposed to be around 1500 words, and then plot happened. So, yeah. Also unbeta'd, so drop me a line and let me know if you catch any mistakes!
It was raining hard when Burt Hummel pulled up to the entrance of Dalton Academy, putting his truck in park and turning in his seat to look over at his son.
“Look, Kurt, I don’t like this any more than you do, but I warned you after the last time-”
“Yeah dad, I get it. I fucked up, so this is my punishment.”
“Kurt-”
But Kurt was already sliding the seatbelt over his chest and opening the door, stepping out into the rain, “I’ll call you in a few days.” He said in lieu of a goodbye, slamming the door shut and turning to face the building in front of him.
“Welcome home.” Kurt spat out bitterly to himself before fisting his hands in his pockets and walking in, his dad’s eyes burning holes into his back the entire way.
**
Kurt walked down the halls of Dalton slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket and black boots squeaking against the marble floors as he made his way to the administration office, students giving him a wide berth as he strode past.
He walked into the office and strummed his fingers against the counter as he waited for the secretary to finish speaking on the phone.
Once she hung up she turned her attention to Kurt, glaring slightly, “Young man, I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped doing that.” She told him, staring pointedly at his fingers on the counter.
Kurt gave her a grin before laying his palm flat on the desk, winking at her, “Sure thing sweetheart. I’m just here to pick up some things; schedule, room assignment, so on, so forth.”
“Name?” She asked in a clipped tone, ignoring his comment and averting her eyes to the computer screen in front of her.
“Kurt Hummel,” he responded, the grin on his face turning into a smirk as he watched the change in the secretary’s demeanor, going from put-off to wary.
“Oh.” She said after a moment, no doubt reading all about Kurt’s past from Dalton’s database before standing up quickly and heading over to the printer to grab Kurt’s things.
“W-well, this is your class schedule and your boarding assignment. You have a single room-”
“Sweet.” Kurt cut in, grabbing the papers, glancing at the room number before folding them and tucking them into his jacket pocket.
The secretary slid a key across the desk which Kurt snatched up quickly, “Don’t lose it as replacements cost twenty-five dollars out of your own pocket.”
Kurt rolled his eyes before pocketing the key, fucking snotty rich kids. Who the fuck pays twenty-five bucks for a goddamned key replacement? “Anything else?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
The secretary sat back down and looked him over once more before turning back to the monitor, “Welcome to Dalton Academy.”
**
Kurt found his room soon enough, the blank beige walls and almost-bare twin-sized bed against the left wall hardly comforting as he walked in. There was a wooden dresser next to the door and small matching bedside table, a door leading to the bathroom was across from the bed.
“This,” Kurt said, looking around quickly, “Is home for the next year. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
He sighed before falling back against the bed, the lone pillow under his head hard and uncomfortable, the sheet scratchy against his palms.
Kurt dug his phone out of his pocket and slid his finger across the screen, staring at his background image.
It was a picture of him and some of his friends from McKinley, his old school. A cigarette was dangling from his fingers and they were all laughing, sitting on the bleachers.
Kurt didn’t know the picture was being taken until his best friend, Mercedes, texted it to him the following night.
No one ever understood McKinley’s Glee Club. Its members ranged from jocks and cheerleaders to social pariahs.
And then there was Kurt.
The freak.
The kid that was way too fucking smart but could never keep his mouth shut and was always itching for a fight.
To McKinley students, the sight of leather and the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with car oil were synonymous to Kurt Hummel.
And they didn’t like it.
They didn’t like him.
It didn’t help matters that he was gay, unapologetically so. And was not afraid to shove it into all of their faces.
The jocks always messed with him, constantly harassing him and threatening him. But Kurt always gave as good as he got.
A shove into a locker equaled a knee to the groin in Kurt’s book.
A slushy in the face equaled a keyed car or a slashed tire.
And a shouted ‘fag’ or ‘homo’? That meant a punch in the face.
Kurt had lost count of how many times he had been suspended, coming home with no excuses; nothing but a letter from the principal and split lip or a black eye.
The last…‘fight’ had been the last straw and the next thing Kurt knew, he was being withdrawn from McKinley High and packing his things, being sent to a boarding school two hours away in hopes that it would ‘straighten him out’.
Kurt couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the irony of being sent to an all-boys school to be straightened out.
He sighed and turned off his phone, dropping it on the table beside him. He dug around in his jacket pocket before coming out with a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag as he stared at the ceiling before blowing the smoke out.
Suddenly there was a knock on his door and a head popping in, “Excuse me, Mr. Kurt Hummel?”
Kurt’s eyes flicked over to see a boy standing in the doorway, dressed in the school uniform and hair gelled within an inch of its life.
“Can I help you pretty boy?” Kurt asked before taking another pull from his cigarette, not bothering to move from his spot on the bed as he scrutinized the boy across the room.
He had one thing right, the boy was pretty. Bright hazel eyes and dark black hair that was plastered to his head with way too much fucking hair gel and a gorgeous, gorgeous face.
“I um, I was sent up here to tell you that your belongings arrived? They’re down in the office and I, well uh-”
“Spit it out, gorgeous, I haven’t got all day.”
Kurt watched as the boy’s face reddened, eyes shifting around the room, “Just that I was asked to help you bring it up since I live across the hall.”
That got Kurt’s attention and suddenly he was sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “Really now? Well then…maybe living here won’t be so bad after all…” he said smirking as he put the cigarette back into his mouth, grabbed his phone and walked over to the boy.
“Um…you’re…smoking isn’t allowed on campus.” The boy stammered as Kurt stopped in front of him.
Kurt rolled his eyes before taking a long drag, keeping the smoke in his lungs for a long moment before blowing it in the boy’s direction, grinning when his face scrunched up.
Kurt put the cigarette out against the side of the dresser before dropping the bud into the trashcan next to the door, a small dark circle now marring the polished finish.
“Ready to go, gorgeous?” Kurt asked, earning another blush as the boy stepped back into the hall and cleared his throat.
“Blaine.”
“Come again?”
“M-my name. It’s Blaine. Blaine Anderson.”
Kurt nodded as he closed the door behind him.
“Good to know. For future reference and all.” Kurt told him smirking as he walked down the hall, Blaine trailing after him awkwardly.
**
It took two trips between Kurt and Blaine to get all of Kurt’s things to his room, boxes haphazardly lying in his room, making the already cramped room feel almost claustrophobic and making Kurt feel anxious to get away.
Kurt walked over to the bathroom and swung the door open hoping that the little bit of extra room was enough to calm his nerves.
“Do you uh…need any help? Unpacking?” Blaine asked, scratching the back of his head lightly.
“No thanks gorgeous, I got it.” Kurt replied, shaking his head and dragging a box over to the foot of the bed, popping it open.
“I told you my name was Blaine, Kurt.” The boy said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest, the blush once again returning to his face.
“I know you did.” Kurt replied distractedly, pulling out a couple of picture frames and a few loose photos out of the box.
“Then why do you keep calling me…‘gorgeous.’” Blaine mumbled, the word spilling out from his lips like a curse, something he shouldn’t be saying, like Voldemort or something.
“Just calling it like I see it, baby." Kurt answered without missing a beat, winking at the other boy. "You can go now, I’m sure you have homework or whatever rich kids like you do in your spare time.”
Blaine left the room with a barely-audible goodbye and once the door was closed, Kurt stopped what he was doing and stared at the spot Blaine occupied only seconds ago.
Kurt wanted to get to know this boy.
This boy who was good and proper, clean-cut and well-mannered.
This boy who was the complete opposite of Kurt.
He needed to get to know this boy, no matter what.
**
The next morning Kurt woke up with a groan, slapping around on the nightstand for his phone to flick off the alarm.
“Fucking kill me now, ugh.” He moaned, glancing at the time on his phone to read 7:35am.
“Fuck this.” He mumbled, dropping his phone and turning over in bed, shutting his eyes and quickly drifting off to sleep.
He was almost, blissfully, back asleep when there was a sharp, persistent rap against the door.
“Oh my god, what?!” Kurt yelled, flinging a pillow over at the door, the impact making a dull thud.
“Kurt? Classes start in twenty minutes and I…I thought I could help you find your classes?” the person called out, his voice muffled by the door between them.
Blaine. Kurt thought, his glare instantly lessening and being replaced with a small smile.
“Kurt?” Blaine called warily.
Kurt ran a hand through his hair before throwing the covers off of him, “Yeah. I’m coming. Give me ten minutes, gorgeous.”
He heard Blaine agree before scrubbing his hand over his face and stumbling over to the bathroom to get ready.
Kurt walked out of the bathroom at 7:50 and walked over to his dresser, “Might as well attempt to look the part.” He told himself, taking out a pair of dark jeans and a white dress shirt since he hadn’t gotten his uniform yet.
He was tying up the laces on his boots and pocketing his cell phone in his leather jacket when there was a knock on the door, “Kurt?”
Kurt’s eyes widened minutely as he froze, staring at the door.
He honestly didn’t think Blaine would still be waiting for him outside. He felt something close to guilt before shaking his head and walking over to the door, wrenching it open.
“Hey gorgeous, sorry took so long. We can’t just all roll out of bed and look as pretty as you.” Kurt said winking at Blaine who was standing in the middle of the hall, bag slung over his shoulder and a blush creeping onto his face.
“I um…I told my professors I’d show you around so…it doesn’t really matter if I’m a few minutes late.” Blaine stammered out, picking at the hem of his blazer.
Kurt smirked, stepping up into Blaine’s personal space, “Well then, if they don’t care if you’re late, why don’t we put those extra few minutes to good use, huh babe?”
Blaine stumbled back a few steps before tugging on his collar, “Look, Kurt I um…just…never mind.” He sighed, looking Kurt over quickly, which made Kurt give him a smug look.
“Like what you see, gorgeous?”
Blaine bit his lip before pulling his room key out of his pocket and turning around to the door behind him, “Hold on a moment.” He called over his shoulder, stepping into his room.
Kurt raised an eyebrow but did as he was asked, leaning back against his room door, crossing his feet and arms in front of him.
Blaine came out a few moments later with a red and blue stripped tie in his hand.
“Um…I figure since you don’t have your uniform yet, should at least have this so…” he trailed off awkwardly, hand jutting out to give Kurt a Dalton uniform tie.
Kurt’s smirk faltered a bit as he straightened up and took the tie from Blaine’s hand.
He couldn’t figure out why something as simple as being given a tie meant so much to him.
He quickly changed the ties, turning to unlock his door and throw his own black tie somewhere into his room before turning back, “Alright. Ready to go, Blaine?” Kurt asked smiling, earning a small smile and nod of Blaine’s head in return.
**
Kurt strolled into each and everyone one of his classes late, feeling the eyes of students in the classrooms following his every move, scrutinizing him, and he just smirked back, winking at a few boys as he walked past them towards a seat.
He sat in the back of each class and spent the periods doodling in the lone notebook he brought with him.
He was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that when he got to the door for his physics class, instead of walking away, Blaine followed him inside.
Instead of heading straight for the back, Kurt made a bee line to sit next to Blaine, even going so far as to push his desk over a bit, “Mind sharing your textbook with me, gorgeous?” Kurt asked, twirling his pencil between his fingers and grinning wickedly.
Blaine’s face turned scarlet and his eyes darted around the room, nervously looking around to see if anyone heard Kurt.
“Morning Blaine!” someone called, making both boys look up.
“Hey Jeff,” Blaine responded, grinning brighter than Kurt had ever seen. Kurt watched as the blonde-haired boy came over and threw an arm over Blaine’s shoulders, awkwardly hugging him.
Kurt felt irrational anger begin to pool in his gut and without preamble, he pulled his desk away from Blaine’s sharply, the legs grating against the linoleum harshly, making Blaine and Jeff, along with the other students in class, jump.
Jeff looked over in Kurt’s direction before pulling his arm off of Blaine’s shoulders and sticking it out, “Hi, I’m Jeffrey Carter. You’re new, right?”
Kurt pointedly ignored Jeff’s offered handshake, staring down at the random doodle he began to draw on the edge of his notebook.
“Jeff, this Kurt Hummel, and yeah he’s new.” Blaine supplied, looking between the two of them awkwardly.
Kurt’s head shot up and he glared daggers at Blaine, “No one fucking asked you to speak for me, pretty boy.” Kurt barked at him, gaining the attention of the entire class, before slamming his notebook shut and rising out of his seat, already halfway to the door before Blaine’s brain could catch up with what was going on.
Kurt passed the teacher on the way out, the man simply staring in shocked confusion at the boy that blew past him in a blur of black leather and anger.
**
Kurt didn’t realize he had left his backpack behind in his physics class until he was already halfway down the hall to his room.
“Just.fucking.perfect.” Kurt growled out, punching his fist against the wall angrily as he slowed to a stop in front of his room, no way of getting in since he put his key in his bag.
He slumped down and banged his head against his door hard before leaving it there, leaning back and staring at the hanging lights on the ceiling as he reached up and loosened his tie until it was dangling off his neck.
He didn’t know how long he had sat there, random students walking past him on their way to their rooms without a second glance, until a shadow cast over him and peaked an eye open, looking up to see Blaine hovering over him, Kurt’s backpack in his hand.
Kurt stood up quickly, the muscles in his body groaning in protest at the sudden movements as he faced Blaine.
“What was that befo-”
“Nothing.” Kurt cut him off, reaching for his bag and ripping it open, digging around for his room key.
Blaine sighed but nodded, turning to head back down the hall.
“Your boyfriend might wanna cool it on the PDA in class next time.” Kurt spat out bitterly as he jammed his key into the lock and opened the door.
Blaine turned back, his face scrunching in confusion, “Um…what?”
Kurt stared with his hand on the knob, halfway into his room, “You and Blondie. Not everyone wants to see that shit.”
Blaine gave him an incredulous stare before laughing.
Kurt wanted to hit him.
If it had been anyone else but Blaine, he would have.
“You mean Jeff? He’s just my friend. My very straight friend who has a girlfriend and is a very touchy-feely kinda guy.”
Kurt said nothing, opting instead to look Blaine up and down, calculating.
Blaine fidgeted in his spot before awkwardly turning away, heading back down the hall.
Kurt watched him walk a few feet away before shaking his head and calling out, “Hey…wait up!”
Blaine turned his head and watched as Kurt threw his bag into his room and closed the door again, pocketing his key and walking over to meet him.
“Where are you goin’ gorgeous?”
Instead of blushing this time, Blaine gave him a small smile at the nickname as he nodded his head over to the staircase.
“Warbler practice.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest, “What’s that? A sport or something?”
“No.” Blaine replied, shaking his head with a laugh.
Kurt liked his laugh a bit more than he would admit.
“It’s…singing.” Blaine told him, beginning to walk down the hall again.
“Singing, huh? Like a glee club?” Kurt asked as they walked down the steps.
“Yeah, pretty much I guess.”
Kurt nodded as he followed Blaine through the school, coming to a stop at giant double doors.
“Kurt um…w-why are you coming with me? Don’t you have homework or…something?” Blaine asked, confusion lacing his words.
Kurt smirked and shrugged a shoulder, “Well, gorgeous, I remember you telling me this morning that you were my self-appointed tour guide for the day, so just consider this a bonus.”
Blaine swallowed before nodding and leading Kurt inside. A bunch of other boys were already harmonizing in random groups around the room and Blaine dropped his bag by the door, smiling in greeting as a few boys stopped to say hi to him.
Kurt noticed the familiar mop of blonde hair in one of the corner groups of boys and he felt his fingers twitch into the shape of a fist inside his jacket pocket, jumping when Blaine tapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head over to an empty chair for Kurt to sit in.
Kurt did and Blaine followed, sitting next to him as an Asian boy began smacking a gavel to gain everyone’s attention.
“Afternoon, boys.”
A chorus of ‘Hey Wes’s were said in return as the boy, Wes, sat down and began speaking about sectionals.
Kurt’s stomach gave a bitter twist at the thought, realizing he left his own Glee Club a member short for their sectional competition.
Wes and two other boys continued speaking in length, making Kurt roll his eyes and slouch into his chair.
“Do you really put up with these douchebags every single day, babe?” Kurt asked, leaning over in his chair to Blaine.
Before the other boy could respond, the sound of the gavel rapping against wood got their attention, making Blaine jump.
“Warbler Blaine, is there something you would like to discuss?” The boy to the left of Wes asked.
“No, David. I’m good.”
“Who are you?” Wes asked, squinting his eyes in scrutiny at Kurt.
“Don’t worry about who I am. I’m with him.” Kurt replied with a cheeky grin, knocking his shoulder into Blaine’s.
Wes seemed unfazed, his staring slowly changing into a glare.
“These are closed practices. Unless you’re a member of the Warblers, you are not permitted to be here.”
Kurt shrugged, “Fine, I’ll join the Warblers then.”
“You need to be able to sing to-”
“Who the fuck said I couldn’t sing.” Kurt shot back, jumping out of his chair.
“Kurt.” Blaine hissed through his teeth, but Kurt didn’t listen to him. Instead he pulled his iPod out of his jacket’s inner pocket and walked over to one of the tables where an iPod dock was plugged into the corner.
After a few moments the heavy thumping sound of a bass filled the room and Kurt turned back to stare at the boys in the room, his eyes landing on Blaine’s.
There he goes,
My baby walks so slow.
Sexual tic-tac-toe.
Yeah I know we both know,
It isn't time, no
But could you be m-mine?
We'll never get too far
Just you, me and the bar
Silly ménage a trois, sometimes
Would you be m-mine?
Would you be m-mine?
Would you be m-mine?
Kurt began walking around the room slowly, sensually, moving his hips and giving every boy in the room a cocky look before his eyes continuously went back to Blaine’s, the boy’s eyes never leaving Kurt once, following his every move like a magnet.
Oh baby, light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone,
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Kurt winked over at Wes and the other two boys at the head desk before dropping to his knees a few feet in front of Blaine, shrugging his jacket halfway off his arms and swiveling his hips back and forth, giving Blaine a heated stare, licking his lips as he sang.
You burn me, burn me up
Baby yea, yea
baby you're mine
Baby you're mine,
mine,
you're mine
Oh baby, light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
I got this fever that I can't sweat out
Kurt jumped back up to his feet and shrugged his jacket back on in the same movement before stalking over to Blaine, closing the gap between them.
Oh baby light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
Yeah give you fever, fever yeah
Give you my f-f-fever my f-fever
Give you my f-f-fever my f-fever
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Kurt growled out the last line perfectly into Blaine’s ear, both of his arms gripping the back of Blaine’s chair as Kurt hovered over him, almost straddling him. Kurt panted slightly into his ear, nipping the lobe gently before pulling away to walk over to the dock and grab his iPod, smirking smugly at everyone as they stared in shock, watching as he simply went back to sit in his seat.
The room was quiet until, ironically enough, Jeff clapped and even whooped, grinning in Kurt’s direction. That the obviously the catalyst because then suddenly everyone else in the room began clapping, some albeit rather awkwardly.
Kurt, smirk still in place, flicked his eyes over to Wes, “So?”
Wes had his arms over his chest, his gaze calculating, “We don’t…perform like that.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow, “I’ll be sure to tone it down for the children next time.”
“There won’t be a next ti-”
“Wes, come on. It was…over the top, but you have to admit, he can sing.”
Kurt glanced over at Blaine, wondering why he would speak up for him when just five minutes ago Kurt was all over him and most likely embarrassing the hell out of him.
“Blaine has a point, Wes. Thad, you agree?” The third boy at the head table nodded in agreement with David before looking up at Wes, “A countertenor could give us an advantage…”
Kurt saw the moment Wes realized that he was outnumbered, the reluctant acceptance and wariness lurking just beneath his glower.
“Looks like you got yourselves a new member, boys.” Kurt called out, winking at Wes before crossing his arms over his chest and looking out at the rest of the Warblers in the room with a cocky smile.
**
After Warbler practice, Blaine stayed behind to talk with Wes and Thad, so Kurt booked it up to his room, nearly tripping over his backpack when he walked in and made a bee line to his bed, plopping down onto it face first.
He knew Blaine for two days, two fucking days, and Kurt couldn’t get enough. He had never met anyone like Blaine. Someone who was so good and proper and so so so fucking naïve.
Someone who completely and utterly got under Kurt’s skin.
Kurt growled and sat up, tearing off his jacket and kicking his boots off. He stripped off his dress shirt and stood, unbuttoning his jeans as he walked over to the bathroom to take a shower, kicking his backpack harshly into the wall on his way.
It had to stop.
It needed to stop.
Kurt wasn’t…he wasn’t right for Blaine. And he had no business trying to make himself a part of Blaine Anderson’s life.
Coming to Dalton was supposed to be a temporary thing. Just a place for him to go long enough for Burt to calm down and eventually cave and let Kurt return to McKinley, back to his friends and the only people Kurt cared about.
The only people Kurt wanted to care about. And dammit, he was going to try his hardest to ensure that happened.
Kurt showered quickly and wrapped a towel around his waist, scrubbing another through his hair roughly, making the strands spike up into a million different directions.
He walked out of the bathroom and stopped in his tracks when he saw Blaine sitting on his bed. He wasn’t wearing his blazer or his tie and his dress shirt was untucked from his pants. It was the most normal Kurt had seen him yet.
“The hell are you doing in my room, pretty boy?” Kurt asked sharply, dropping the towel he was using on his hair around his neck.
The words died on Blaine’s lips when his gaze traveled from Kurt’s eyes to his body. Instead of seeing lust however, Kurt recognized the look in Blaine’s eyes.
Pity.
Kurt growled low in the back of his throat before crossing his arms over his chest, “I asked you a fucking question. What. Are you doing. In my room?”
“I…I uh, I don’t…I don’t really…remember. Kurt what hap-”
“No.”
Blaine’s face scrunched in confusion, eyes still laced with that damn emotion and Kurt wanted to scream. Or hit something.
“You should go, Blaine.” Kurt said after a beat, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.
“But Kurt-”
“Go.” Kurt repeated angrily, following Blaine as he slowly walked out and slamming the door behind him.
Kurt took a few deep breaths before walking back to the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror above the sink.
He looked his reflection in the eye before his gaze flickered lower, seeing cuts and bruises varying in size in color, scars both old and new littering his flesh from years of getting harassed and finally getting the balls to fight back.
He scrutinized himself for a few moments longer before tearing out of the bathroom and over to his closet, grabbing the first shirt his fingers made contact with and slipping it over his head, the material clinging uncomfortably to his still-damp skin.
Blaine wasn’t supposed to see that.
No one was.
Not even his dad knew how bad it had gotten.
Kurt grabbed the rest of his clothes and dressed quickly, slamming the closet shut roughly, leaving the wet towel on a heap on the floor before shutting off his light, throwing himself onto his bed and willing for sleep to come.
**
Blaine didn’t wait for Kurt the next morning.
They didn’t sit together during Physics and stood far apart during Warbler practice.
It went on that way for the next week and a half.
At first Kurt thought it was for the best, better to cut Blaine and everything out of his life and focus on ways to get back to McKinley.
But after a while, Kurt began going crazy.
Once he got his uniform, he was forced to swap leather for a blazer. He was forced to conform.
Conformity never sat well with Kurt Hummel.
And to top it all off, he didn’t have friends. And while usually that was just fine with him, the loneliness was getting to him.
The silence becoming stifling.
He didn’t like not speaking to anyone throughout an entire day, every day.
He didn’t like that his only friends were two hours away.
He didn’t like that he was avoiding Blaine. The person who, no matter how hard he tried, dominated most of his thoughts day in and day out.
That was how Kurt Hummel found himself outside of Blaine Anderson’s door at 1am on a Friday night, kneeling by the keyhole, trying to pick the lock and open the door.
After a few moments of messing with the lock, Kurt heard the familiar snick and he tested the knob, turning it successfully with a grin as he stood and walked in.
Blaine’s room had a window, illuminating the room with just enough light that Kurt could see Blaine’s outline on his bed.
Kurt smirked as he closed the door a little louder than necessary at one in morning, making the other boy groan and shift in his bed.
“Wake up, pretty boy.”
“Wha-Kurt?!” Blaine asked in a shocked voice, hand scrambling on his bedside table, turning on the lamp.
He sat up quickly and stared over at Kurt by the door warily, “Wh-what are you doing here? Actually, no, how did you get in here?”
“I picked the lock.” Kurt said matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“You pi-Kurt, what the hell?!”
Kurt rolled his eyes before walking over to Blaine’s desk and grabbing his chair, turning it to face Blaine on the bed and straddling it, resting his elbows on it.
“So, what’s up?”
“What’s up? What’s up? Kurt, you’ve ignored me for almost two weeks and now you break into my room and you ask me ‘what’s up’?!”
Kurt shrugged, eyesight flicking over the room at Blaine’s belonging before snapping back to the boy on the bed who was now throwing the covers over his legs and standing up.
Other than the one day in Kurt’s room where his shirt was untucked, Kurt had never seen Blaine in anything other than the Dalton uniform.
But now Kurt sat looking as Blaine stared down at him, Blaine with his well-worn grey t-shirt and black briefs and…really curly hair.
Huh.
“I want an answer, Kurt.”
Kurt sighed before looking down at his hands, “I was lonely, alright.”
When Blaine didn’t respond Kurt looked back up, blue eyes meeting hazel.
It was like the fight was literally leaving Blaine’s body with Kurt’s answer as he flopped back down onto the side of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.
“That’s not my fault, Kurt.” He answered quietly, “You decided to isolate yourself.”
“I know.” Kurt snapped back angrily, hands clenching into fists.
Blaine looked unfazed, scrubbing a hand through the curls on his head.
“What do you want, Kurt?”
This time it was Kurt who didn’t respond, gaze looking everyone but at Blaine.
“Kurt.” His voice was closer now. Kurt looked up to see Blaine hovering over him but he still said nothing.
Blaine stayed quiet as well, but he moved, crouching down until he was eye-level with Kurt. Blaine gently placed his hand over one of Kurt’s until his fingers relaxed, loosening out of a fist.
He pulled Kurt’s arm out gently towards him, his eyes glancing up at Kurt’s every few seconds.
Kurt wondered if he saw the unease there, the anxiety that was slowly creeping its way into his veins.
Without a word, Blaine pushed Kurt’s sleeve up to his elbow, his eyes staying locked on Kurt’s a moment longer before looking down.
There was a jagged scar on the inside of Kurt’s elbow, traveling a few inches down his forearm and there were still a few scabbed-over cuts on Kurt’s knuckles, bony and out of place from being broken more than once due to various fights and various punches.
Not a single word had been said and Kurt had never felt more bared for the world to see.
Blaine tugged on Kurt’s hand and they both stood, walking over to the bed and sitting side by side on the edge.
Kurt liked the feeling of Blaine’s palm against his own.
Blaine placed Kurt’s hand on the bed between them before copying his previous moments and pushing up the sleeve on Kurt’s other arm, a yellowish bruise peaking out just under the hem, most likely traveling up to his bicep.
Blaine traced it lightly with a finger, making Kurt hiss under his breath and jerk his arm back minutely.
He looked back up into Kurt’s eyes before his eyes flickered to a small scar just to the side of Kurt’s right eye.
Blaine slowly brought his hand up, finger tracing over the scar before laying his palm flat against Kurt’s cheek, thumb rubbing at the slight stubble on his jaw.
Kurt subconsciously leaned into the touch, eyes never leaving the other boy’s.
“Kurt.” Blaine finally whispered, glancing down at his lips before leaning in, breath warm against Kurt’s face. Before he could close the gap, however, Kurt pulled back, shaking his head slightly.
Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt’s face and made to move away but Kurt stopped him, grabbing one of Blaine’s hands firmly in his own.
“No, just not…not yet.” Kurt said quietly, thumb rubbing small circles against Blaine’s hand.
“I…I’m not good, Blaine. Not for you, not for anyone. You should…you should know that. Know what you could be potentially getting yourself into.”
Kurt took a deep breath before standing and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and off of him, dropping it onto the bed.
Blaine kept his eyes locked in Kurt’s instead of looking down like Kurt expected him too.
After a few moments, Kurt nodded his head, “It’s okay.” He whispered, keeping his arms down at his sides instead of covering his chest.
That’s when Blaine’s eyes left his and looked down. Kurt fought the urge to cover himself.
There were bruises up and down his arms and scars in various places on his chest and stomach. After a minute or two, Kurt turned around and heard Blaine’s small gasp.
Kurt knows what he saw.
There was a thick scar traveling from Kurt’s neck to just under his shoulder blade
“It happened when I was 14.” Kurt said quietly.
“I uh, it was the beginning of my first year of high school and right off the bat, everyone knew I was gay. I didn’t hide it, I don’t see why it needs to be hidden.” Kurt explained, keeping his eyes trained on the wall across the room, watching the shadows the window curtains were making.
“People didn’t like it. And they didn’t like that I didn’t care. So they decided to teach me a ‘lesson.’ Three seniors cornered me on the walk to school one morning and were going to tie me up to the flagpole or whatever. One had a knife and meant to use it to shred my clothes.”
Kurt took a deep breath, his hands fisting as his sides, the material of his sweatpants bunching tightly in his grip.
“Two of them grabbed me to hold me steady, but when a car drove by they jumped and pushed me back. The knife was cutting my shirt off by the back of the collar and the movement shoved me into the blade. When they realized what happened, they dropped me and ran, left me bleeding in the parking lot.”
“It took fifty-eight stitches,” Kurt laughed humorlessly, “That…that was the moment I decided to change. To stop taking all the bullshit they wanted to throw at me and to fight back.”
Kurt didn’t hear Blaine say anything. He didn’t even know Blaine had moved until he felt the other boy’s breath on his skin.
He expected Blaine to trace the scar with his finger again, like he did with the others. Instead he felt Blaine’s lips ghost over the edge of the scar on his neck, barely grazing but still causing goose bumps to spread on his skin.
Kurt then felt Blaine’s finger tap his side, “What about this one? What happened here?” He asked quietly.
Kurt lifted his arm and glanced down to see the scar, “Last year. Was shoved into a chain-link fence. It was old and one of the links was broken and sticking out.”
“This one?” Blaine tapped again, this time on his left shoulder.
“I was fifteen. Thrown into an open locker door.”
It went on for the next ten minutes. Blaine pointing out various cuts and scars and Kurt explaining the story behind them.
“For every one of these marks on me, I’ve done something in return. I’ve been in so many fights I’ve lost count. I’ve been suspended, kicked out of classes, I’ve been sent to the hospital, hell, I’ve sent people to the hospital. I’m…I’m not good, Blaine.” Kurt explained quietly
Kurt felt Blaine’s hand on his shoulder again and Blaine gently tugged, wanting him to turn around.
Kurt did and was once again face to face with the other boy. He expected Blaine to look disgusted. To want Kurt to leave his room and leave him alone and never talk to him again.
Instead, Blaine slowly brought his arms up and wrapped them around Kurt’s neck, hugging him gently.
“You’re not bad, Kurt.”
“Others would disagree.” Kurt shot back, pulling away gently, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around Blaine still, “You don’t seem…scared of me. At all. Since day one. Like, you don’t even…-how can you not…you just don’t give a shit. I’m like the poster child for a delinquent teenager with nothing in their future except for juvie and you just don’t care. Why?”
“You just…you’ve had bad things done to you and you got tired of being the victim. This is how you deal with things but this,” Blaine said, waving his arm up and down, “This isn’t you.”
“The leather and the cigarettes and the fighting, it’s not who you are.”
Kurt shook his head, pulling away, “You don’t…you don’t know me, Blaine. Not really.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Blaine agreed, “But I do know that you sing to yourself almost every night. And it isn’t Adam Lambert. It’s things like The Beatles. When you think no one’s watching, you let your guard down. When you get a text from one of your friends at your old school, your face lights up, even if you’re not even smiling. And,” He continued, stepping forward and closing the distance between them again, “You don’t take shit from anybody. You’re strong, Kurt.”
Kurt didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to, didn’t have a clue what to say.
So instead he did what he’s wanted to do for a while now.
“Blaine,” He whispered quietly, before leaning down, closing the small gap between them, and kissing Blaine gently.
The kiss was soft and sweet, tender; words that were never used when describing Kurt Hummel. But it was the only way Blaine could categorize it.
When they pulled away Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt’s, his eyes still closed.
“I doubt I could ever be afraid of you, Kurt. And you…you have a past. So what? I don’t care that people think you’re bad and you’ve gotten into trouble. I just…I don’t. At all.”
Kurt brought his hand up, thumb rubbing small circles on Blaine’s cheek, making him open his eyes, “This could be bad…”
“Or it could potentially be very, very good.” Blaine mumbled back before surging forward to claim Kurt’s lips with his again.
This kiss wasn’t like the first. This one was hard, desperate. Both boys were clinging to each other, trying to get as close as possible.
Kurt backed Blaine up to the bed and fell with him on top of it, straddling him.
Kurt kissed Blaine like it was all he needed to live in the world. Like he needed Blaine’s lips against his more than he needed oxygen.
“So fucking gorgeous,” Kurt mumbled, breaking away to kiss his way down Blaine’s jaw, sucking and licking at the slight stubbly skin.
Blaine raked his hands through Kurt’s hair and down his back, one gripping his hip tightly and the other on his waist, fingers splayed across the warm skin of Kurt’s back.
“Absolutely. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Kurt groaned out, punctuating each of his words with a kiss or a bite, moving down Blaine’s jaw to his neck.
Blaine moaned low in his throat before rolling them over, giving Kurt a searing kiss. Blaine pulled his head up and looked down, hovering over Kurt, their eyes locking, searching.
“You’re beautiful,” Blaine breathed out, watching as the dim glow from the lamp played shadows over Kurt’s face.
Kurt blushed. Honest to god blushed, and Blaine gave himself a mental victory dance before leaning down to kiss and lick down Kurt’s neck, sucking slightly on the hollow of his neck, making Kurt arch up into him and groan loudly, Kurt’s hands coming up to tangle themselves in Blaine’s curls.
Blaine began to move lower, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin before stopping.
Kurt’s eyes flickered open and he glanced down to see Blaine looking up at him for a moment before looking back down and gently kissing one of the older scars on Kurt’s chest.
The small action changed everything.
The fervor from moments before now calmed down to gentle, caring.
“You’re beautiful,” Blaine repeated again, moving a few inches lower to kiss another scar, “And amazing,” He moved over to kiss a fading bruise on Kurt’s lower abdomen, “And you’re perfect.” He leaned his head over to kiss the scar on the inside of Kurt’s elbow, feeling the boy beneath him tremble slightly.
Kurt reached down to grab Blaine’s face in his hands and drag him up so they were face to face again, “Maybe this could be a very good thing.” He said quietly before bringing Blaine’s face down to his to kiss him again.
**
Kurt spent the rest of the night in Blaine’s room, swapping stories about their pasts in between exploratory kisses.
When it became five am and the sky began changing from black to a dull bluish-gray, Kurt knew he had to go back to his room before anyone else woke up and saw him walking out of Blaine’s bedroom on a Saturday morning.
They both moved towards the door, Blaine grabbing Kurt’s shirt out from under his on the bed (after a while of kissing, Kurt thought it was unfair that Blaine was so clothed, deciding to almost rip Blaine’s shirt in his haste to get it up and off of the other boy’s body).
Kurt shrugged it on quickly before turning back towards Blaine, “Get some sleep, gorgeous.”
Blaine crowded into his space, backing Kurt up against the door, “I’d probably sleep better if you were here with me.”
“Mmm, don’t tempt me.” Kurt mumbled, leaning down to kiss Blaine lightly one more time before grasping behind him for the knob.
“See you later.” Blaine said quietly, watching as Kurt hurriedly crossed the hallway to his own room.
“You better.” Kurt whispered loudly across the hall, winking before shutting his door behind him and leaning against it.
Five hours ago he was in here moping about being alone and wishing he had never come to Dalton Academy. Now he was wishing that he had come soon. If he had been here earlier, he could have had Blaine longer.
Kurt breathed out deeply before pushing off of the door and going towards his bed and his phone, seeing that he had three new text messages from last night.
One was from his dad, asking him to call sometime later today and the other two were from Mercedes, telling him about an event the Glee club was hosting that night,
Mr. S wants us 2 raise money 4 Glee so we’re performing later 2nite. Can u come?
Kurt smiled as he reread the text. He missed his friends in the New Directions a lot, he’d be more than happy to drive two hours if it meant seeing them all.
Maybe he could even wrangle Blaine into going with him, allowing him to merge his two worlds together.
**
Kurt woke up sometime after one pm, blankets strewn all over the bed and a pillow on the floor.
He yawned loudly before groping around in his bedside drawer and coming up with a half-empty packet of cigarettes and his lighter.
He lit it quickly and inhaled deeply, enjoying the slight burn in his lungs from the smoke.
He held it between his lips while reaching over to grab his phone, hitting a speed-dial button,
“Hello?”
“Hey Mercedes.” Kurt replied, blowing out smoke and dangling the cigarette in his hand over the desk, ashes falling into a makeshift ashtray.
“Hey hon! Did you get my messages about tonight?”
“Mmmhm.” He answered, taking a long, final drag from his cigarette before putting it out on his notebook on the desk, creating a new black circle among dozens of others.
“Great! We’re excited to see you!”
“I’m sure you all are. I bet McKinley’s boring as fuck without me there to shake things up.”
Mercedes laughed over the line, “You got that right baby. Things just aren’t the same without you threatening to bust someone’s kneecaps in every other day.”
“You love it and you know.” Kurt shot back, biting his lip before speaking again. “Hey Mercedes?”
“Yeah, boo?”
“Would it be okay if I brought someone with me to tag along?”
He wasn’t sure the noise he heard over the line could be considered human. Something between the lines of a scream and a laugh and a cheer.
“Oh my god, who?! Kurt Hummel, did you get yourself some arm candy over at that prep school already?! Damn boy, you sure do move fast.”
Kurt rolled his eyes before falling back onto his bed, lying on it vertically, “No, dumbass, just…he’s just someone I wanna bring okay. Don’t make a big fucking deal over it. Actually, don’t tell anyone. Especially Berry. Doubly especially my brother. I don’t need Finn blabbing off to my dad about anything. He’ll blow it out of proportion and my dad will be convinced I’m getting married before I’m even in Lima.”
Kurt heard her laughing on the other end and could probably bet that she was even rolling her eyes, “Fine, fine. But I better get to meet him. Gotta make sure he’s worthy for my boy.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Whatever. See you tonight, baby.”
“Yeah, see you.” He replied, smiling as he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed.
He thought everything over for a few minutes before getting up and heading over to his clothes, putting on his black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and black boots, picking up his leather jacket and hanging it over his arm. He grabbed his cigarettes and phone before making his way across the hall to Blaine’s room, knocking on the door.
“Come in.” He heard Blaine call and turned the knob, poking his head in.
“Hey gorgeous. Wanna go to Lima for the day?”
**
Part Two
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 11,700
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title from the song The Spirit of Jazz by The Gaslight Anthem
Summary: Kurt Hummel is McKinley High's resident badboy. His father has had enough and so Kurt is sent to Dalton Academy to get his act together. There he meets prim and proper Blaine Anderson and Kurt decides to rattle up Blaine's perfect ways.
Warnings: Violence, language, homophobic slurs and underage smoking.
A/N: This happened because of the badboy/reform craze that has taken over Tumblr. (and really, I hope it never leaves). Written by a prompt from bethmai. It was supposed to be around 1500 words, and then plot happened. So, yeah. Also unbeta'd, so drop me a line and let me know if you catch any mistakes!
It was raining hard when Burt Hummel pulled up to the entrance of Dalton Academy, putting his truck in park and turning in his seat to look over at his son.
“Look, Kurt, I don’t like this any more than you do, but I warned you after the last time-”
“Yeah dad, I get it. I fucked up, so this is my punishment.”
“Kurt-”
But Kurt was already sliding the seatbelt over his chest and opening the door, stepping out into the rain, “I’ll call you in a few days.” He said in lieu of a goodbye, slamming the door shut and turning to face the building in front of him.
“Welcome home.” Kurt spat out bitterly to himself before fisting his hands in his pockets and walking in, his dad’s eyes burning holes into his back the entire way.
**
Kurt walked down the halls of Dalton slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket and black boots squeaking against the marble floors as he made his way to the administration office, students giving him a wide berth as he strode past.
He walked into the office and strummed his fingers against the counter as he waited for the secretary to finish speaking on the phone.
Once she hung up she turned her attention to Kurt, glaring slightly, “Young man, I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped doing that.” She told him, staring pointedly at his fingers on the counter.
Kurt gave her a grin before laying his palm flat on the desk, winking at her, “Sure thing sweetheart. I’m just here to pick up some things; schedule, room assignment, so on, so forth.”
“Name?” She asked in a clipped tone, ignoring his comment and averting her eyes to the computer screen in front of her.
“Kurt Hummel,” he responded, the grin on his face turning into a smirk as he watched the change in the secretary’s demeanor, going from put-off to wary.
“Oh.” She said after a moment, no doubt reading all about Kurt’s past from Dalton’s database before standing up quickly and heading over to the printer to grab Kurt’s things.
“W-well, this is your class schedule and your boarding assignment. You have a single room-”
“Sweet.” Kurt cut in, grabbing the papers, glancing at the room number before folding them and tucking them into his jacket pocket.
The secretary slid a key across the desk which Kurt snatched up quickly, “Don’t lose it as replacements cost twenty-five dollars out of your own pocket.”
Kurt rolled his eyes before pocketing the key, fucking snotty rich kids. Who the fuck pays twenty-five bucks for a goddamned key replacement? “Anything else?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
The secretary sat back down and looked him over once more before turning back to the monitor, “Welcome to Dalton Academy.”
**
Kurt found his room soon enough, the blank beige walls and almost-bare twin-sized bed against the left wall hardly comforting as he walked in. There was a wooden dresser next to the door and small matching bedside table, a door leading to the bathroom was across from the bed.
“This,” Kurt said, looking around quickly, “Is home for the next year. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
He sighed before falling back against the bed, the lone pillow under his head hard and uncomfortable, the sheet scratchy against his palms.
Kurt dug his phone out of his pocket and slid his finger across the screen, staring at his background image.
It was a picture of him and some of his friends from McKinley, his old school. A cigarette was dangling from his fingers and they were all laughing, sitting on the bleachers.
Kurt didn’t know the picture was being taken until his best friend, Mercedes, texted it to him the following night.
No one ever understood McKinley’s Glee Club. Its members ranged from jocks and cheerleaders to social pariahs.
And then there was Kurt.
The freak.
The kid that was way too fucking smart but could never keep his mouth shut and was always itching for a fight.
To McKinley students, the sight of leather and the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with car oil were synonymous to Kurt Hummel.
And they didn’t like it.
They didn’t like him.
It didn’t help matters that he was gay, unapologetically so. And was not afraid to shove it into all of their faces.
The jocks always messed with him, constantly harassing him and threatening him. But Kurt always gave as good as he got.
A shove into a locker equaled a knee to the groin in Kurt’s book.
A slushy in the face equaled a keyed car or a slashed tire.
And a shouted ‘fag’ or ‘homo’? That meant a punch in the face.
Kurt had lost count of how many times he had been suspended, coming home with no excuses; nothing but a letter from the principal and split lip or a black eye.
The last…‘fight’ had been the last straw and the next thing Kurt knew, he was being withdrawn from McKinley High and packing his things, being sent to a boarding school two hours away in hopes that it would ‘straighten him out’.
Kurt couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the irony of being sent to an all-boys school to be straightened out.
He sighed and turned off his phone, dropping it on the table beside him. He dug around in his jacket pocket before coming out with a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag as he stared at the ceiling before blowing the smoke out.
Suddenly there was a knock on his door and a head popping in, “Excuse me, Mr. Kurt Hummel?”
Kurt’s eyes flicked over to see a boy standing in the doorway, dressed in the school uniform and hair gelled within an inch of its life.
“Can I help you pretty boy?” Kurt asked before taking another pull from his cigarette, not bothering to move from his spot on the bed as he scrutinized the boy across the room.
He had one thing right, the boy was pretty. Bright hazel eyes and dark black hair that was plastered to his head with way too much fucking hair gel and a gorgeous, gorgeous face.
“I um, I was sent up here to tell you that your belongings arrived? They’re down in the office and I, well uh-”
“Spit it out, gorgeous, I haven’t got all day.”
Kurt watched as the boy’s face reddened, eyes shifting around the room, “Just that I was asked to help you bring it up since I live across the hall.”
That got Kurt’s attention and suddenly he was sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “Really now? Well then…maybe living here won’t be so bad after all…” he said smirking as he put the cigarette back into his mouth, grabbed his phone and walked over to the boy.
“Um…you’re…smoking isn’t allowed on campus.” The boy stammered as Kurt stopped in front of him.
Kurt rolled his eyes before taking a long drag, keeping the smoke in his lungs for a long moment before blowing it in the boy’s direction, grinning when his face scrunched up.
Kurt put the cigarette out against the side of the dresser before dropping the bud into the trashcan next to the door, a small dark circle now marring the polished finish.
“Ready to go, gorgeous?” Kurt asked, earning another blush as the boy stepped back into the hall and cleared his throat.
“Blaine.”
“Come again?”
“M-my name. It’s Blaine. Blaine Anderson.”
Kurt nodded as he closed the door behind him.
“Good to know. For future reference and all.” Kurt told him smirking as he walked down the hall, Blaine trailing after him awkwardly.
**
It took two trips between Kurt and Blaine to get all of Kurt’s things to his room, boxes haphazardly lying in his room, making the already cramped room feel almost claustrophobic and making Kurt feel anxious to get away.
Kurt walked over to the bathroom and swung the door open hoping that the little bit of extra room was enough to calm his nerves.
“Do you uh…need any help? Unpacking?” Blaine asked, scratching the back of his head lightly.
“No thanks gorgeous, I got it.” Kurt replied, shaking his head and dragging a box over to the foot of the bed, popping it open.
“I told you my name was Blaine, Kurt.” The boy said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest, the blush once again returning to his face.
“I know you did.” Kurt replied distractedly, pulling out a couple of picture frames and a few loose photos out of the box.
“Then why do you keep calling me…‘gorgeous.’” Blaine mumbled, the word spilling out from his lips like a curse, something he shouldn’t be saying, like Voldemort or something.
“Just calling it like I see it, baby." Kurt answered without missing a beat, winking at the other boy. "You can go now, I’m sure you have homework or whatever rich kids like you do in your spare time.”
Blaine left the room with a barely-audible goodbye and once the door was closed, Kurt stopped what he was doing and stared at the spot Blaine occupied only seconds ago.
Kurt wanted to get to know this boy.
This boy who was good and proper, clean-cut and well-mannered.
This boy who was the complete opposite of Kurt.
He needed to get to know this boy, no matter what.
**
The next morning Kurt woke up with a groan, slapping around on the nightstand for his phone to flick off the alarm.
“Fucking kill me now, ugh.” He moaned, glancing at the time on his phone to read 7:35am.
“Fuck this.” He mumbled, dropping his phone and turning over in bed, shutting his eyes and quickly drifting off to sleep.
He was almost, blissfully, back asleep when there was a sharp, persistent rap against the door.
“Oh my god, what?!” Kurt yelled, flinging a pillow over at the door, the impact making a dull thud.
“Kurt? Classes start in twenty minutes and I…I thought I could help you find your classes?” the person called out, his voice muffled by the door between them.
Blaine. Kurt thought, his glare instantly lessening and being replaced with a small smile.
“Kurt?” Blaine called warily.
Kurt ran a hand through his hair before throwing the covers off of him, “Yeah. I’m coming. Give me ten minutes, gorgeous.”
He heard Blaine agree before scrubbing his hand over his face and stumbling over to the bathroom to get ready.
Kurt walked out of the bathroom at 7:50 and walked over to his dresser, “Might as well attempt to look the part.” He told himself, taking out a pair of dark jeans and a white dress shirt since he hadn’t gotten his uniform yet.
He was tying up the laces on his boots and pocketing his cell phone in his leather jacket when there was a knock on the door, “Kurt?”
Kurt’s eyes widened minutely as he froze, staring at the door.
He honestly didn’t think Blaine would still be waiting for him outside. He felt something close to guilt before shaking his head and walking over to the door, wrenching it open.
“Hey gorgeous, sorry took so long. We can’t just all roll out of bed and look as pretty as you.” Kurt said winking at Blaine who was standing in the middle of the hall, bag slung over his shoulder and a blush creeping onto his face.
“I um…I told my professors I’d show you around so…it doesn’t really matter if I’m a few minutes late.” Blaine stammered out, picking at the hem of his blazer.
Kurt smirked, stepping up into Blaine’s personal space, “Well then, if they don’t care if you’re late, why don’t we put those extra few minutes to good use, huh babe?”
Blaine stumbled back a few steps before tugging on his collar, “Look, Kurt I um…just…never mind.” He sighed, looking Kurt over quickly, which made Kurt give him a smug look.
“Like what you see, gorgeous?”
Blaine bit his lip before pulling his room key out of his pocket and turning around to the door behind him, “Hold on a moment.” He called over his shoulder, stepping into his room.
Kurt raised an eyebrow but did as he was asked, leaning back against his room door, crossing his feet and arms in front of him.
Blaine came out a few moments later with a red and blue stripped tie in his hand.
“Um…I figure since you don’t have your uniform yet, should at least have this so…” he trailed off awkwardly, hand jutting out to give Kurt a Dalton uniform tie.
Kurt’s smirk faltered a bit as he straightened up and took the tie from Blaine’s hand.
He couldn’t figure out why something as simple as being given a tie meant so much to him.
He quickly changed the ties, turning to unlock his door and throw his own black tie somewhere into his room before turning back, “Alright. Ready to go, Blaine?” Kurt asked smiling, earning a small smile and nod of Blaine’s head in return.
**
Kurt strolled into each and everyone one of his classes late, feeling the eyes of students in the classrooms following his every move, scrutinizing him, and he just smirked back, winking at a few boys as he walked past them towards a seat.
He sat in the back of each class and spent the periods doodling in the lone notebook he brought with him.
He was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that when he got to the door for his physics class, instead of walking away, Blaine followed him inside.
Instead of heading straight for the back, Kurt made a bee line to sit next to Blaine, even going so far as to push his desk over a bit, “Mind sharing your textbook with me, gorgeous?” Kurt asked, twirling his pencil between his fingers and grinning wickedly.
Blaine’s face turned scarlet and his eyes darted around the room, nervously looking around to see if anyone heard Kurt.
“Morning Blaine!” someone called, making both boys look up.
“Hey Jeff,” Blaine responded, grinning brighter than Kurt had ever seen. Kurt watched as the blonde-haired boy came over and threw an arm over Blaine’s shoulders, awkwardly hugging him.
Kurt felt irrational anger begin to pool in his gut and without preamble, he pulled his desk away from Blaine’s sharply, the legs grating against the linoleum harshly, making Blaine and Jeff, along with the other students in class, jump.
Jeff looked over in Kurt’s direction before pulling his arm off of Blaine’s shoulders and sticking it out, “Hi, I’m Jeffrey Carter. You’re new, right?”
Kurt pointedly ignored Jeff’s offered handshake, staring down at the random doodle he began to draw on the edge of his notebook.
“Jeff, this Kurt Hummel, and yeah he’s new.” Blaine supplied, looking between the two of them awkwardly.
Kurt’s head shot up and he glared daggers at Blaine, “No one fucking asked you to speak for me, pretty boy.” Kurt barked at him, gaining the attention of the entire class, before slamming his notebook shut and rising out of his seat, already halfway to the door before Blaine’s brain could catch up with what was going on.
Kurt passed the teacher on the way out, the man simply staring in shocked confusion at the boy that blew past him in a blur of black leather and anger.
**
Kurt didn’t realize he had left his backpack behind in his physics class until he was already halfway down the hall to his room.
“Just.fucking.perfect.” Kurt growled out, punching his fist against the wall angrily as he slowed to a stop in front of his room, no way of getting in since he put his key in his bag.
He slumped down and banged his head against his door hard before leaving it there, leaning back and staring at the hanging lights on the ceiling as he reached up and loosened his tie until it was dangling off his neck.
He didn’t know how long he had sat there, random students walking past him on their way to their rooms without a second glance, until a shadow cast over him and peaked an eye open, looking up to see Blaine hovering over him, Kurt’s backpack in his hand.
Kurt stood up quickly, the muscles in his body groaning in protest at the sudden movements as he faced Blaine.
“What was that befo-”
“Nothing.” Kurt cut him off, reaching for his bag and ripping it open, digging around for his room key.
Blaine sighed but nodded, turning to head back down the hall.
“Your boyfriend might wanna cool it on the PDA in class next time.” Kurt spat out bitterly as he jammed his key into the lock and opened the door.
Blaine turned back, his face scrunching in confusion, “Um…what?”
Kurt stared with his hand on the knob, halfway into his room, “You and Blondie. Not everyone wants to see that shit.”
Blaine gave him an incredulous stare before laughing.
Kurt wanted to hit him.
If it had been anyone else but Blaine, he would have.
“You mean Jeff? He’s just my friend. My very straight friend who has a girlfriend and is a very touchy-feely kinda guy.”
Kurt said nothing, opting instead to look Blaine up and down, calculating.
Blaine fidgeted in his spot before awkwardly turning away, heading back down the hall.
Kurt watched him walk a few feet away before shaking his head and calling out, “Hey…wait up!”
Blaine turned his head and watched as Kurt threw his bag into his room and closed the door again, pocketing his key and walking over to meet him.
“Where are you goin’ gorgeous?”
Instead of blushing this time, Blaine gave him a small smile at the nickname as he nodded his head over to the staircase.
“Warbler practice.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest, “What’s that? A sport or something?”
“No.” Blaine replied, shaking his head with a laugh.
Kurt liked his laugh a bit more than he would admit.
“It’s…singing.” Blaine told him, beginning to walk down the hall again.
“Singing, huh? Like a glee club?” Kurt asked as they walked down the steps.
“Yeah, pretty much I guess.”
Kurt nodded as he followed Blaine through the school, coming to a stop at giant double doors.
“Kurt um…w-why are you coming with me? Don’t you have homework or…something?” Blaine asked, confusion lacing his words.
Kurt smirked and shrugged a shoulder, “Well, gorgeous, I remember you telling me this morning that you were my self-appointed tour guide for the day, so just consider this a bonus.”
Blaine swallowed before nodding and leading Kurt inside. A bunch of other boys were already harmonizing in random groups around the room and Blaine dropped his bag by the door, smiling in greeting as a few boys stopped to say hi to him.
Kurt noticed the familiar mop of blonde hair in one of the corner groups of boys and he felt his fingers twitch into the shape of a fist inside his jacket pocket, jumping when Blaine tapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head over to an empty chair for Kurt to sit in.
Kurt did and Blaine followed, sitting next to him as an Asian boy began smacking a gavel to gain everyone’s attention.
“Afternoon, boys.”
A chorus of ‘Hey Wes’s were said in return as the boy, Wes, sat down and began speaking about sectionals.
Kurt’s stomach gave a bitter twist at the thought, realizing he left his own Glee Club a member short for their sectional competition.
Wes and two other boys continued speaking in length, making Kurt roll his eyes and slouch into his chair.
“Do you really put up with these douchebags every single day, babe?” Kurt asked, leaning over in his chair to Blaine.
Before the other boy could respond, the sound of the gavel rapping against wood got their attention, making Blaine jump.
“Warbler Blaine, is there something you would like to discuss?” The boy to the left of Wes asked.
“No, David. I’m good.”
“Who are you?” Wes asked, squinting his eyes in scrutiny at Kurt.
“Don’t worry about who I am. I’m with him.” Kurt replied with a cheeky grin, knocking his shoulder into Blaine’s.
Wes seemed unfazed, his staring slowly changing into a glare.
“These are closed practices. Unless you’re a member of the Warblers, you are not permitted to be here.”
Kurt shrugged, “Fine, I’ll join the Warblers then.”
“You need to be able to sing to-”
“Who the fuck said I couldn’t sing.” Kurt shot back, jumping out of his chair.
“Kurt.” Blaine hissed through his teeth, but Kurt didn’t listen to him. Instead he pulled his iPod out of his jacket’s inner pocket and walked over to one of the tables where an iPod dock was plugged into the corner.
After a few moments the heavy thumping sound of a bass filled the room and Kurt turned back to stare at the boys in the room, his eyes landing on Blaine’s.
There he goes,
My baby walks so slow.
Sexual tic-tac-toe.
Yeah I know we both know,
It isn't time, no
But could you be m-mine?
We'll never get too far
Just you, me and the bar
Silly ménage a trois, sometimes
Would you be m-mine?
Would you be m-mine?
Would you be m-mine?
Kurt began walking around the room slowly, sensually, moving his hips and giving every boy in the room a cocky look before his eyes continuously went back to Blaine’s, the boy’s eyes never leaving Kurt once, following his every move like a magnet.
Oh baby, light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone,
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Kurt winked over at Wes and the other two boys at the head desk before dropping to his knees a few feet in front of Blaine, shrugging his jacket halfway off his arms and swiveling his hips back and forth, giving Blaine a heated stare, licking his lips as he sang.
You burn me, burn me up
Baby yea, yea
baby you're mine
Baby you're mine,
mine,
you're mine
Oh baby, light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
I got this fever that I can't sweat out
Kurt jumped back up to his feet and shrugged his jacket back on in the same movement before stalking over to Blaine, closing the gap between them.
Oh baby light's on
But you're mom's not home
I'm sick of laying down alone
With this fever, fever, yeah
My one and own
I wanna get you alone
Yeah give you fever, fever yeah
Give you my f-f-fever my f-fever
Give you my f-f-fever my f-fever
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Give you fever, fever, yeah
Kurt growled out the last line perfectly into Blaine’s ear, both of his arms gripping the back of Blaine’s chair as Kurt hovered over him, almost straddling him. Kurt panted slightly into his ear, nipping the lobe gently before pulling away to walk over to the dock and grab his iPod, smirking smugly at everyone as they stared in shock, watching as he simply went back to sit in his seat.
The room was quiet until, ironically enough, Jeff clapped and even whooped, grinning in Kurt’s direction. That the obviously the catalyst because then suddenly everyone else in the room began clapping, some albeit rather awkwardly.
Kurt, smirk still in place, flicked his eyes over to Wes, “So?”
Wes had his arms over his chest, his gaze calculating, “We don’t…perform like that.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow, “I’ll be sure to tone it down for the children next time.”
“There won’t be a next ti-”
“Wes, come on. It was…over the top, but you have to admit, he can sing.”
Kurt glanced over at Blaine, wondering why he would speak up for him when just five minutes ago Kurt was all over him and most likely embarrassing the hell out of him.
“Blaine has a point, Wes. Thad, you agree?” The third boy at the head table nodded in agreement with David before looking up at Wes, “A countertenor could give us an advantage…”
Kurt saw the moment Wes realized that he was outnumbered, the reluctant acceptance and wariness lurking just beneath his glower.
“Looks like you got yourselves a new member, boys.” Kurt called out, winking at Wes before crossing his arms over his chest and looking out at the rest of the Warblers in the room with a cocky smile.
**
After Warbler practice, Blaine stayed behind to talk with Wes and Thad, so Kurt booked it up to his room, nearly tripping over his backpack when he walked in and made a bee line to his bed, plopping down onto it face first.
He knew Blaine for two days, two fucking days, and Kurt couldn’t get enough. He had never met anyone like Blaine. Someone who was so good and proper and so so so fucking naïve.
Someone who completely and utterly got under Kurt’s skin.
Kurt growled and sat up, tearing off his jacket and kicking his boots off. He stripped off his dress shirt and stood, unbuttoning his jeans as he walked over to the bathroom to take a shower, kicking his backpack harshly into the wall on his way.
It had to stop.
It needed to stop.
Kurt wasn’t…he wasn’t right for Blaine. And he had no business trying to make himself a part of Blaine Anderson’s life.
Coming to Dalton was supposed to be a temporary thing. Just a place for him to go long enough for Burt to calm down and eventually cave and let Kurt return to McKinley, back to his friends and the only people Kurt cared about.
The only people Kurt wanted to care about. And dammit, he was going to try his hardest to ensure that happened.
Kurt showered quickly and wrapped a towel around his waist, scrubbing another through his hair roughly, making the strands spike up into a million different directions.
He walked out of the bathroom and stopped in his tracks when he saw Blaine sitting on his bed. He wasn’t wearing his blazer or his tie and his dress shirt was untucked from his pants. It was the most normal Kurt had seen him yet.
“The hell are you doing in my room, pretty boy?” Kurt asked sharply, dropping the towel he was using on his hair around his neck.
The words died on Blaine’s lips when his gaze traveled from Kurt’s eyes to his body. Instead of seeing lust however, Kurt recognized the look in Blaine’s eyes.
Pity.
Kurt growled low in the back of his throat before crossing his arms over his chest, “I asked you a fucking question. What. Are you doing. In my room?”
“I…I uh, I don’t…I don’t really…remember. Kurt what hap-”
“No.”
Blaine’s face scrunched in confusion, eyes still laced with that damn emotion and Kurt wanted to scream. Or hit something.
“You should go, Blaine.” Kurt said after a beat, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.
“But Kurt-”
“Go.” Kurt repeated angrily, following Blaine as he slowly walked out and slamming the door behind him.
Kurt took a few deep breaths before walking back to the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror above the sink.
He looked his reflection in the eye before his gaze flickered lower, seeing cuts and bruises varying in size in color, scars both old and new littering his flesh from years of getting harassed and finally getting the balls to fight back.
He scrutinized himself for a few moments longer before tearing out of the bathroom and over to his closet, grabbing the first shirt his fingers made contact with and slipping it over his head, the material clinging uncomfortably to his still-damp skin.
Blaine wasn’t supposed to see that.
No one was.
Not even his dad knew how bad it had gotten.
Kurt grabbed the rest of his clothes and dressed quickly, slamming the closet shut roughly, leaving the wet towel on a heap on the floor before shutting off his light, throwing himself onto his bed and willing for sleep to come.
**
Blaine didn’t wait for Kurt the next morning.
They didn’t sit together during Physics and stood far apart during Warbler practice.
It went on that way for the next week and a half.
At first Kurt thought it was for the best, better to cut Blaine and everything out of his life and focus on ways to get back to McKinley.
But after a while, Kurt began going crazy.
Once he got his uniform, he was forced to swap leather for a blazer. He was forced to conform.
Conformity never sat well with Kurt Hummel.
And to top it all off, he didn’t have friends. And while usually that was just fine with him, the loneliness was getting to him.
The silence becoming stifling.
He didn’t like not speaking to anyone throughout an entire day, every day.
He didn’t like that his only friends were two hours away.
He didn’t like that he was avoiding Blaine. The person who, no matter how hard he tried, dominated most of his thoughts day in and day out.
That was how Kurt Hummel found himself outside of Blaine Anderson’s door at 1am on a Friday night, kneeling by the keyhole, trying to pick the lock and open the door.
After a few moments of messing with the lock, Kurt heard the familiar snick and he tested the knob, turning it successfully with a grin as he stood and walked in.
Blaine’s room had a window, illuminating the room with just enough light that Kurt could see Blaine’s outline on his bed.
Kurt smirked as he closed the door a little louder than necessary at one in morning, making the other boy groan and shift in his bed.
“Wake up, pretty boy.”
“Wha-Kurt?!” Blaine asked in a shocked voice, hand scrambling on his bedside table, turning on the lamp.
He sat up quickly and stared over at Kurt by the door warily, “Wh-what are you doing here? Actually, no, how did you get in here?”
“I picked the lock.” Kurt said matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“You pi-Kurt, what the hell?!”
Kurt rolled his eyes before walking over to Blaine’s desk and grabbing his chair, turning it to face Blaine on the bed and straddling it, resting his elbows on it.
“So, what’s up?”
“What’s up? What’s up? Kurt, you’ve ignored me for almost two weeks and now you break into my room and you ask me ‘what’s up’?!”
Kurt shrugged, eyesight flicking over the room at Blaine’s belonging before snapping back to the boy on the bed who was now throwing the covers over his legs and standing up.
Other than the one day in Kurt’s room where his shirt was untucked, Kurt had never seen Blaine in anything other than the Dalton uniform.
But now Kurt sat looking as Blaine stared down at him, Blaine with his well-worn grey t-shirt and black briefs and…really curly hair.
Huh.
“I want an answer, Kurt.”
Kurt sighed before looking down at his hands, “I was lonely, alright.”
When Blaine didn’t respond Kurt looked back up, blue eyes meeting hazel.
It was like the fight was literally leaving Blaine’s body with Kurt’s answer as he flopped back down onto the side of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.
“That’s not my fault, Kurt.” He answered quietly, “You decided to isolate yourself.”
“I know.” Kurt snapped back angrily, hands clenching into fists.
Blaine looked unfazed, scrubbing a hand through the curls on his head.
“What do you want, Kurt?”
This time it was Kurt who didn’t respond, gaze looking everyone but at Blaine.
“Kurt.” His voice was closer now. Kurt looked up to see Blaine hovering over him but he still said nothing.
Blaine stayed quiet as well, but he moved, crouching down until he was eye-level with Kurt. Blaine gently placed his hand over one of Kurt’s until his fingers relaxed, loosening out of a fist.
He pulled Kurt’s arm out gently towards him, his eyes glancing up at Kurt’s every few seconds.
Kurt wondered if he saw the unease there, the anxiety that was slowly creeping its way into his veins.
Without a word, Blaine pushed Kurt’s sleeve up to his elbow, his eyes staying locked on Kurt’s a moment longer before looking down.
There was a jagged scar on the inside of Kurt’s elbow, traveling a few inches down his forearm and there were still a few scabbed-over cuts on Kurt’s knuckles, bony and out of place from being broken more than once due to various fights and various punches.
Not a single word had been said and Kurt had never felt more bared for the world to see.
Blaine tugged on Kurt’s hand and they both stood, walking over to the bed and sitting side by side on the edge.
Kurt liked the feeling of Blaine’s palm against his own.
Blaine placed Kurt’s hand on the bed between them before copying his previous moments and pushing up the sleeve on Kurt’s other arm, a yellowish bruise peaking out just under the hem, most likely traveling up to his bicep.
Blaine traced it lightly with a finger, making Kurt hiss under his breath and jerk his arm back minutely.
He looked back up into Kurt’s eyes before his eyes flickered to a small scar just to the side of Kurt’s right eye.
Blaine slowly brought his hand up, finger tracing over the scar before laying his palm flat against Kurt’s cheek, thumb rubbing at the slight stubble on his jaw.
Kurt subconsciously leaned into the touch, eyes never leaving the other boy’s.
“Kurt.” Blaine finally whispered, glancing down at his lips before leaning in, breath warm against Kurt’s face. Before he could close the gap, however, Kurt pulled back, shaking his head slightly.
Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt’s face and made to move away but Kurt stopped him, grabbing one of Blaine’s hands firmly in his own.
“No, just not…not yet.” Kurt said quietly, thumb rubbing small circles against Blaine’s hand.
“I…I’m not good, Blaine. Not for you, not for anyone. You should…you should know that. Know what you could be potentially getting yourself into.”
Kurt took a deep breath before standing and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and off of him, dropping it onto the bed.
Blaine kept his eyes locked in Kurt’s instead of looking down like Kurt expected him too.
After a few moments, Kurt nodded his head, “It’s okay.” He whispered, keeping his arms down at his sides instead of covering his chest.
That’s when Blaine’s eyes left his and looked down. Kurt fought the urge to cover himself.
There were bruises up and down his arms and scars in various places on his chest and stomach. After a minute or two, Kurt turned around and heard Blaine’s small gasp.
Kurt knows what he saw.
There was a thick scar traveling from Kurt’s neck to just under his shoulder blade
“It happened when I was 14.” Kurt said quietly.
“I uh, it was the beginning of my first year of high school and right off the bat, everyone knew I was gay. I didn’t hide it, I don’t see why it needs to be hidden.” Kurt explained, keeping his eyes trained on the wall across the room, watching the shadows the window curtains were making.
“People didn’t like it. And they didn’t like that I didn’t care. So they decided to teach me a ‘lesson.’ Three seniors cornered me on the walk to school one morning and were going to tie me up to the flagpole or whatever. One had a knife and meant to use it to shred my clothes.”
Kurt took a deep breath, his hands fisting as his sides, the material of his sweatpants bunching tightly in his grip.
“Two of them grabbed me to hold me steady, but when a car drove by they jumped and pushed me back. The knife was cutting my shirt off by the back of the collar and the movement shoved me into the blade. When they realized what happened, they dropped me and ran, left me bleeding in the parking lot.”
“It took fifty-eight stitches,” Kurt laughed humorlessly, “That…that was the moment I decided to change. To stop taking all the bullshit they wanted to throw at me and to fight back.”
Kurt didn’t hear Blaine say anything. He didn’t even know Blaine had moved until he felt the other boy’s breath on his skin.
He expected Blaine to trace the scar with his finger again, like he did with the others. Instead he felt Blaine’s lips ghost over the edge of the scar on his neck, barely grazing but still causing goose bumps to spread on his skin.
Kurt then felt Blaine’s finger tap his side, “What about this one? What happened here?” He asked quietly.
Kurt lifted his arm and glanced down to see the scar, “Last year. Was shoved into a chain-link fence. It was old and one of the links was broken and sticking out.”
“This one?” Blaine tapped again, this time on his left shoulder.
“I was fifteen. Thrown into an open locker door.”
It went on for the next ten minutes. Blaine pointing out various cuts and scars and Kurt explaining the story behind them.
“For every one of these marks on me, I’ve done something in return. I’ve been in so many fights I’ve lost count. I’ve been suspended, kicked out of classes, I’ve been sent to the hospital, hell, I’ve sent people to the hospital. I’m…I’m not good, Blaine.” Kurt explained quietly
Kurt felt Blaine’s hand on his shoulder again and Blaine gently tugged, wanting him to turn around.
Kurt did and was once again face to face with the other boy. He expected Blaine to look disgusted. To want Kurt to leave his room and leave him alone and never talk to him again.
Instead, Blaine slowly brought his arms up and wrapped them around Kurt’s neck, hugging him gently.
“You’re not bad, Kurt.”
“Others would disagree.” Kurt shot back, pulling away gently, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around Blaine still, “You don’t seem…scared of me. At all. Since day one. Like, you don’t even…-how can you not…you just don’t give a shit. I’m like the poster child for a delinquent teenager with nothing in their future except for juvie and you just don’t care. Why?”
“You just…you’ve had bad things done to you and you got tired of being the victim. This is how you deal with things but this,” Blaine said, waving his arm up and down, “This isn’t you.”
“The leather and the cigarettes and the fighting, it’s not who you are.”
Kurt shook his head, pulling away, “You don’t…you don’t know me, Blaine. Not really.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Blaine agreed, “But I do know that you sing to yourself almost every night. And it isn’t Adam Lambert. It’s things like The Beatles. When you think no one’s watching, you let your guard down. When you get a text from one of your friends at your old school, your face lights up, even if you’re not even smiling. And,” He continued, stepping forward and closing the distance between them again, “You don’t take shit from anybody. You’re strong, Kurt.”
Kurt didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to, didn’t have a clue what to say.
So instead he did what he’s wanted to do for a while now.
“Blaine,” He whispered quietly, before leaning down, closing the small gap between them, and kissing Blaine gently.
The kiss was soft and sweet, tender; words that were never used when describing Kurt Hummel. But it was the only way Blaine could categorize it.
When they pulled away Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt’s, his eyes still closed.
“I doubt I could ever be afraid of you, Kurt. And you…you have a past. So what? I don’t care that people think you’re bad and you’ve gotten into trouble. I just…I don’t. At all.”
Kurt brought his hand up, thumb rubbing small circles on Blaine’s cheek, making him open his eyes, “This could be bad…”
“Or it could potentially be very, very good.” Blaine mumbled back before surging forward to claim Kurt’s lips with his again.
This kiss wasn’t like the first. This one was hard, desperate. Both boys were clinging to each other, trying to get as close as possible.
Kurt backed Blaine up to the bed and fell with him on top of it, straddling him.
Kurt kissed Blaine like it was all he needed to live in the world. Like he needed Blaine’s lips against his more than he needed oxygen.
“So fucking gorgeous,” Kurt mumbled, breaking away to kiss his way down Blaine’s jaw, sucking and licking at the slight stubbly skin.
Blaine raked his hands through Kurt’s hair and down his back, one gripping his hip tightly and the other on his waist, fingers splayed across the warm skin of Kurt’s back.
“Absolutely. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Kurt groaned out, punctuating each of his words with a kiss or a bite, moving down Blaine’s jaw to his neck.
Blaine moaned low in his throat before rolling them over, giving Kurt a searing kiss. Blaine pulled his head up and looked down, hovering over Kurt, their eyes locking, searching.
“You’re beautiful,” Blaine breathed out, watching as the dim glow from the lamp played shadows over Kurt’s face.
Kurt blushed. Honest to god blushed, and Blaine gave himself a mental victory dance before leaning down to kiss and lick down Kurt’s neck, sucking slightly on the hollow of his neck, making Kurt arch up into him and groan loudly, Kurt’s hands coming up to tangle themselves in Blaine’s curls.
Blaine began to move lower, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin before stopping.
Kurt’s eyes flickered open and he glanced down to see Blaine looking up at him for a moment before looking back down and gently kissing one of the older scars on Kurt’s chest.
The small action changed everything.
The fervor from moments before now calmed down to gentle, caring.
“You’re beautiful,” Blaine repeated again, moving a few inches lower to kiss another scar, “And amazing,” He moved over to kiss a fading bruise on Kurt’s lower abdomen, “And you’re perfect.” He leaned his head over to kiss the scar on the inside of Kurt’s elbow, feeling the boy beneath him tremble slightly.
Kurt reached down to grab Blaine’s face in his hands and drag him up so they were face to face again, “Maybe this could be a very good thing.” He said quietly before bringing Blaine’s face down to his to kiss him again.
**
Kurt spent the rest of the night in Blaine’s room, swapping stories about their pasts in between exploratory kisses.
When it became five am and the sky began changing from black to a dull bluish-gray, Kurt knew he had to go back to his room before anyone else woke up and saw him walking out of Blaine’s bedroom on a Saturday morning.
They both moved towards the door, Blaine grabbing Kurt’s shirt out from under his on the bed (after a while of kissing, Kurt thought it was unfair that Blaine was so clothed, deciding to almost rip Blaine’s shirt in his haste to get it up and off of the other boy’s body).
Kurt shrugged it on quickly before turning back towards Blaine, “Get some sleep, gorgeous.”
Blaine crowded into his space, backing Kurt up against the door, “I’d probably sleep better if you were here with me.”
“Mmm, don’t tempt me.” Kurt mumbled, leaning down to kiss Blaine lightly one more time before grasping behind him for the knob.
“See you later.” Blaine said quietly, watching as Kurt hurriedly crossed the hallway to his own room.
“You better.” Kurt whispered loudly across the hall, winking before shutting his door behind him and leaning against it.
Five hours ago he was in here moping about being alone and wishing he had never come to Dalton Academy. Now he was wishing that he had come soon. If he had been here earlier, he could have had Blaine longer.
Kurt breathed out deeply before pushing off of the door and going towards his bed and his phone, seeing that he had three new text messages from last night.
One was from his dad, asking him to call sometime later today and the other two were from Mercedes, telling him about an event the Glee club was hosting that night,
Mr. S wants us 2 raise money 4 Glee so we’re performing later 2nite. Can u come?
Kurt smiled as he reread the text. He missed his friends in the New Directions a lot, he’d be more than happy to drive two hours if it meant seeing them all.
Maybe he could even wrangle Blaine into going with him, allowing him to merge his two worlds together.
**
Kurt woke up sometime after one pm, blankets strewn all over the bed and a pillow on the floor.
He yawned loudly before groping around in his bedside drawer and coming up with a half-empty packet of cigarettes and his lighter.
He lit it quickly and inhaled deeply, enjoying the slight burn in his lungs from the smoke.
He held it between his lips while reaching over to grab his phone, hitting a speed-dial button,
“Hello?”
“Hey Mercedes.” Kurt replied, blowing out smoke and dangling the cigarette in his hand over the desk, ashes falling into a makeshift ashtray.
“Hey hon! Did you get my messages about tonight?”
“Mmmhm.” He answered, taking a long, final drag from his cigarette before putting it out on his notebook on the desk, creating a new black circle among dozens of others.
“Great! We’re excited to see you!”
“I’m sure you all are. I bet McKinley’s boring as fuck without me there to shake things up.”
Mercedes laughed over the line, “You got that right baby. Things just aren’t the same without you threatening to bust someone’s kneecaps in every other day.”
“You love it and you know.” Kurt shot back, biting his lip before speaking again. “Hey Mercedes?”
“Yeah, boo?”
“Would it be okay if I brought someone with me to tag along?”
He wasn’t sure the noise he heard over the line could be considered human. Something between the lines of a scream and a laugh and a cheer.
“Oh my god, who?! Kurt Hummel, did you get yourself some arm candy over at that prep school already?! Damn boy, you sure do move fast.”
Kurt rolled his eyes before falling back onto his bed, lying on it vertically, “No, dumbass, just…he’s just someone I wanna bring okay. Don’t make a big fucking deal over it. Actually, don’t tell anyone. Especially Berry. Doubly especially my brother. I don’t need Finn blabbing off to my dad about anything. He’ll blow it out of proportion and my dad will be convinced I’m getting married before I’m even in Lima.”
Kurt heard her laughing on the other end and could probably bet that she was even rolling her eyes, “Fine, fine. But I better get to meet him. Gotta make sure he’s worthy for my boy.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Whatever. See you tonight, baby.”
“Yeah, see you.” He replied, smiling as he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed.
He thought everything over for a few minutes before getting up and heading over to his clothes, putting on his black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and black boots, picking up his leather jacket and hanging it over his arm. He grabbed his cigarettes and phone before making his way across the hall to Blaine’s room, knocking on the door.
“Come in.” He heard Blaine call and turned the knob, poking his head in.
“Hey gorgeous. Wanna go to Lima for the day?”
**
Part Two