Blaine was going out of his mind.
Okay, he knew that he was being a bit melodramatic, but honestly. Kurt had only ever promised him a few things, and he had always followed through. Blaine knew that Kurt prided himself on being someone dependable and reliable. Heaven knows that honesty and adherence to promises was something that had been greatly lacking in Blaine's life before Kurt had flown in like an angel of tradition and integrity, sent from heaven above to provide Blaine with a deep sense of peace and trust.
At the moment, however, Blaine was seriously beginning to doubt Kurt's ever-exalted integrity, as Kurt had pledged to meet him for lunch ten minutes ago. As previously stated, Blaine knew he was being melodramatic. Blaine did another covert glance around the entrance of the cafeteria. His ham sandwich, which Blaine was willing to bet a large sum of money didn't contain anything even remotely ham-like, was beginning to look more and more unappealing as the knot deep within the pit of Blaine's stomach was growing with every second that passed without seeing Kurt's face, apologetic and smiling.
Blaine checked his phone once more. As he was fully immersed in the tiny LED screen, he was startled by a shift on the bench, dangerously close to where he was sitting. He sighed with relief, fully expecting to see the chagrined face of his boyfriend when he raised his head. This, along with the expression found on Santana's face when he finally looked up, prompted the decidedly feminine squeal that escaped his lips before he could stop himself.
Santana simply smirked at him, her beautiful face twisting into an evil smile when a look of terror crossed Blaine's face. "Anderson," she acknowledged, almost purring, a fire deep in her eyes. "I've been sent with a message from Coach."
With this, Blaine regained a sense of purpose and dignity. "Coach Beiste?" he asked meekly, once he realized that Santana was not going to elaborate without prompting.
Santana scoffed, pulling out a nail file – from where, Blaine had no idea – and shook her head. "Coach Sylvester."
At Santana's words, Blaine felt his knees begin to shake. Coach Sylvester inspired nothing short of absolute, unadulterated terror deep within him. His heart rate seemed to speed up of its own volition, and his breath came in short pants.
Santana said nothing, but observed Blaine's reaction with a steely glint in her eye. "I take it you've met the devil in a red tracksuit?" She teased lightly, something like a smile beginning to grace her features, making her look incredibly less terrifying.
Blaine only nodded in response, still in the throes of shock and unable to regain full use of his voice. Santana went back to filing her nails silently, patiently waiting for Blaine to recover. She had, after all, had a similar reaction when she had first met the coach as a young and naïve freshman.
"Wh-Why would she need to see me?" Blaine stuttered out, not a minute later.
A devilish smile appeared on Santana's face, growing as she spoke. "It's about your sweet little 'Porcelain.'"
"K-Kurt? Why on earth would Coach Sylvester need to talk to Kurt?" Blaine was truly at a loss now, trying his best to block out memories of his fateful brush with the coach his first day at McKinley. Despite his best efforts, words like 'Frodo' and 'hobbit' filtered through his consciousness, making him shudder.
Santana looked slightly taken aback, but she recovered quickly. "Kurt never told you?" She asked, putting away her nail file in favor of this new development.
This only confused Blaine more. Kurt had been one hundred percent truthful, letting him know all about his school life before and after Dalton, but he had never mentioned Coach Sylvester, outside of his plans for Jean's funeral near the end of the year before.
Santana now looked thoroughly shocked at Blaine's bewildered and uncomfortable expression. "Calm down, hobbit, your precious boyfriend is safe and reasonably healthy," she stated cryptically.
Blaine's brow furrowed, eyebrows knitting together in worry and confusion. "Where is Kurt, Santana?" He asked desperately, hoping against hope for a straight and helpful response from the vixen. To his immeasurable surprise, he received one.
"In the weight room," Santana smiled, a real, genuine smile, before pushing off the bench, grabbing a previously unnoticed bottle of what could only be the 'Sue Sylvester Master Cleanse' that Kurt had once told him about. With no preamble, Santana strutted off, presumably to find Brittany, but no one could be sure with the girl. Blaine had heard many a story of the ditzy blonde's various escapades, but was mostly skeptical about a fair few, most remarkably that she had spent her summer in the sewers, of all places. Pushing these ideas out of his head, he too left the cafeteria in favor of finding his boyfriend and presumably saving him from Coach Sylvester's wrath. He squared his shoulders and walked toward the weight room, head held high, but knees still trembling slightly.
As he neared the room, he heard two suspicious noises, one slightly more worrisome than the other. From deep within the room, he heard the unmistakable sound of a treadmill running, faster than the average user would push themselves in the middle of the school day. This was curious in and of itself, but the other sound he heard pushed any qualms about the treadmill out of his head. Someone in that room was positively panting. Blaine sped up, noting that this person sounded remarkably like Kurt, blushing as he recalled various 'study sessions' in his bedroom that had produced similar noises from the brunette countertenor. He softened his steps just outside the door, as he heard Kurt's voice, worn and tired, call out to no one in particular.
"Coach? I would really appreciate a distraction of some sort if you are planning to keep me on here for much longer. Also, someone should probably let Blaine know where I am, just to prevent him from sending out a search party after I don't show up at lunch."
Blaine, completely baffled, pressed himself closer to the wall, wondering to whom his adorable boyfriend was speaking to. His unspoken queries were answered a moment later, when a familiar voice sent a jolt of fear deep within his soul.
"Well, sweet Porcelain, I suppose I could grant your first request. More importantly, your second request has already been addressed. I sent Sandbags to alert Frodo to your location eight minutes ago, so his Jheri Curl and triangular eyebrows should be peeking around the door right about…now."
Blaine, his face red and frightened, followed Sue's predictions exactly, and as he surveyed the room, he spotted the aforementioned treadmill, and a quick glance about two feet higher revealed that the treadmill was being used by none other than Kurt, panting and sweaty. As soon as he had come to this realization, Kurt whipped his head around, smiling as his eyes lit upon Blaine's form standing just inside the doorway, curious and still alarmed.
"Hey Blaine," Kurt wheezed. At that moment, a familiar sounding song began to ring out over the intercom stationed in the middle of the room. Kurt's eyes grew frantic and his face grew redder than it had been, a feat that seemed almost impossible to Blaine. "Coach! Anything, anything but Bambi! I am begging you!"
Once again, the intercom crackled, the music stopping as Sue's voice rang out, loud and clear. "Your subservience is delicious, Porcelain. Just for that, you have my permission to evacuate the weight room. You have ten seconds. Time starts now."
Kurt's eyes grew wide, and he ran as fast as he possibly could, much faster than someone who had spent their lunch period on a treadmill had any right to, pausing only to grab Blaine's hand and drag him along, fumbling and stuttering. It was only once they were safely down the hallway, and Blaine's incredulous eyes were once again trained on Kurt's rapidly paling face that Blaine was able to regain full use of his vocal chords.
"Kurt – Coach Sylvester – Sandbags – and then…Bambi?"
Kurt looked upon Blaine's flustered and uncomprehending face with tenderness and amusement, then pulled him into the locker room, where he grabbed a spare set of clothes from God knew where and proceeded into a stall, where he changed quickly, emerging in less than a minute. Through all this, Blaine stared, helpless and slightly dazed. Kurt grabbed him by the hand once more after washing his face in the sink, pulling him onto the bench.
"Blaine, I'm so sorry about not coming to lunch. Coach Sylvester ambushed me in the hallway after third period, gave me my Cheerios uniform back, and deposited me on the treadmill before I had time to protest. In her words, she needed my 'sweet Porcelain vocals' to ensure her impending Nationals win so she didn't have to be 'reminded of her ultimate failure by the ungodly Diane Sawyer once more.'"
Blaine began mumbling incoherently, still befuddled. Kurt seemed to understand, though, and took pity on him.
"My sophomore year, Coach added me to the cheerleading team for my voice. I did fourteen-and-a-half minutes of Celine Dion completely in French at Nationals, which led to her sixth consecutive championship. Last year, she didn't even make it to Nationals after Quinn, Brittany, and Santana quit. This year, all of us are back, and under strict contract never to leave her again – at least until graduation."
Blaine, who had snapped out of his funk somewhere around the words 'cheerleading team,' stared at his boyfriend, completely dumbfounded by the thought of him singing Celine Dion while stretching his body in unspeakable ways. Kurt recognized the growing lust displayed prominently in Blaine's eyes, and chuckled, smiling into Blaine's darkening eyes.
"Honestly, Blaine. What on earth am I going to do with you?"
A/N: And then I just end there. Muahahahaha. Anyway. Good? Bad? Feel free to let me know, but don't feel obligated in any way! Thanks for reading :) I got this idea while, yes, on the treadmill for like an hour. It was torture, but I was watching Glee and it made the time pass much faster! Also, if you'd like, my tumblr is avpmglee. tumblr. com! I'd love to hear from some of you!