Author's Note: This story is written for lizzard713, as part of the 2018 Klaine fic exchange. I combined two prompts for this fic. The giftee wished for a Badboy Blaine / Skank Kurt fic, and also wanted a dragon as a key part of the story, so I've tried to include all those elements. Enjoy!

My heartfelt thanks to the lovely hkvoyage for betaing this story for me 3

Chapter 1: New Guy

Principal Figgins folded his hands under his chin and nodded. "Yes, yes, Anderson, I understand, you felt threatened. But David's father has been most generous to the school, and now he says he'll take away all his financial support if you're not punished for pummelling his kid into hospital. And I need that money! Our school needs it! My hands are tied!"

The principal flopped his hands about for emphasis, and then leaned in and continued in a lower voice. "Mr Karofsky wanted you expelled at first. I managed to make him agree to a week's suspension plus forty hours of community service. You see, he runs a home for children with disabilities, and he's always looking for volunteers to read to the children or sing or play or craft with them. That will be a much better outlet for your frustration than violence, young man!"

Blaine rolled his eyes, winced when that made his black eye hurt like mad, and sagged even deeper into his chair.

"They're expecting you at the home this afternoon at three o'clock. This is the address."

Principal Figgins held out a leaflet, and Blaine took it, crumpled it and threw it straight into the bin.

"Anderson, it's either that or expulsion. I suggest you choose wisely."

Blaine swore under his breath. His father would have his head if he got expelled again after just two days.

"415, Monroe Avenue."

"Yeah, yeah," Blaine grumbled. "I know the place. Gives me the creeps."

Principal Figgins smiled. "I'm sure getting to know the children better will change your perception."

Blaine scoffed.

"Three o'clock, Anderson. Be there, or you'll be expelled."

Blaine wanted to roll his eyes again, but thought better of it. He was in enough pain already. Instead, he grabbed his bag, got up and strode out of the principal's office without another word.

That afternoon, he arrived at the home a quarter of an hour early, and just sat on his motorcycle staring at the building. It looked nice enough. Beautiful even. All white, lots of windows, lots of flowers and neatly clipped shrubs in the garden.

But it housed kids like that one girl at McKinley who'd pinched his butt yesterday. She'd told him her name was Becky, and declared that she wanted to kiss him. One second later, she'd planted a big wet one on him. Blaine, grossed out, had run away from her, and she'd chased him, screaming at him and hitting him everywhere she could reach. He'd escaped by slipping into an unoccupied classroom and barricading the door, but he wasn't keen on ever seeing her again, or anyone like her.

He shuddered at the recollection of that slobbery kiss, and the complete lack of respect for his boundaries. Was that how women felt any time men harassed them on the street? How did they deal with that on a daily basis?

No, he really didn't want to go to that place and experience anything like that again. But it was nearly three o'clock, and he didn't want to be expelled, so he got off his bike and walked to the entrance. Another guy overtook him just before he reached the automatic doors.

Blaine got a glimpse of pink-streaked hair, a stud in one ear and a neck tattoo, but as soon as his eyes travelled lower, they stayed glued there. Wow! And Blaine thought he was wearing tight jeans! Apparently, some people painted theirs on in the morning, so they could showcase their endless legs.

"Hey, Kurt!" the receptionist greeted the other guy. "They're waiting for you in the snoozle room. And you'll have help today. There's a new volunteer starting… Oh, yes, there he is now!"

She smiled at Blaine, and Kurt turned around and appraised him. And oh, wow, his eyes were gorgeous. Blue and green and grey all in one, and so compelling that they struck Blaine dumb.

"Can you sing?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded.

"Play an instrument?"

Another nod.

"All right, then, I'll take him off your hands, Dolores," Kurt said. "Come along, New Guy. What's your name, anyway?"

Blaine just blinked at him, struggling to get his tongue to work again, and Dolores came to the rescue. "This is Blaine Anderson. Goes to your school, Kurt, haven't you seen him around?"

That garnered Blaine another piercing look, and Kurt shook his head. "Never."

"I'm… new," Blaine said. "Transfer student."

Kurt pretended to be shocked. "Oh, he talks!"

Dolores laughed. "Be nice, Kurt."

"What's that saying? Nice girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere."

Dolores snorted. "Ha! You're not a girl, and you're not bad either. If you were, you wouldn't come here twice a week to sing and tell stories and make everyone fall in love with you. Admit it, Kurt, you're not a badass, you only want to look like one. Can't fathom why."

Kurt stared her down. "Can't you? Never got bullied in high school, I guess. Well, good for you, but not everyone is that lucky. Come along, New Guy… Oh right, what was it again?"

"Blaine," Dolores repeated.

"This way, Blaine!"

Blaine followed Kurt to a large room where the only light was provided by lava lamps and strings of fairy lights. About a dozen children of various ages sat on the floor, which was carpeted wall to wall with a thick soft material Blaine sank down in to his ankles.

"Best take your shoes off," Kurt told him, unlacing his own Doc Martens already.

Blaine took his socks off, too. He really wanted to sink his toes into that carpet.

When he set his feet on the memory foam and they were instantly cushioned in glorious softness, Blaine let out a blissful sigh.

A little girl next to him giggled, wriggling her own toes. "First time in the snoozle room?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. That obvious?"

"Just a little. You sound like a grown-up. Are you?"

"I'm sixteen," Blaine answered. "I'll be seventeen in two months."

"You're here to help Kurt, then?" the girl asked.

"I guess."

"What do you look like?" she wanted to know next.

"Can't you…?"

"See? No, I'm blind. My name's Ruth, by the way. And I'm six, nearly seven. That makes you ten years older than me."

At that point, Kurt cleared his throat, and Ruth put a finger on her lips. "Shh, it's starting!"

Kurt introduced himself and Blaine, and told everyone that they were going to make some music first, and then he would tell them a story. He opened a cupboard and distributed the musical instruments that were in it – xylophones, maracas, triangles and bongo drums. The last items he got out were a keyboard and an acoustic guitar.

"I can play the keyboard a little," Kurt told Blaine, "but if you can do it properly, be my guest. And I can't play the guitar at all, so that one's all yours, too."

Kurt started off the sing-a-long with a series of nursery rhymes, and Blaine accompanied him on the guitar, after having tuned it.

Some of the children sang along lustily, playing their instrument. One boy just stared blankly into space, rocking back and forth and only contributing a phrase here or there in a monotone voice. And one girl seemed so hyped up that she flapped her hands about and shook her head wildly, all the while beaming ear to ear. It seemed all the same to Kurt, who grinned happily at everyone joining in.

After singing for quite a while, Kurt announced that it was story time. "What do you want me to tell a story about today?"

"Dragons," said the boy with the monotone voice.

That gained enthusiastic support from the others.

"Dragons it is," Kurt laughed. "All right…"

"Once upon a time, in a faraway country, there was a boy called Thomas. He wasn't tall, he wasn't strong, and he was a bit odd, so at school, no-one wanted to play with him. And they all made fun of him.

But Thomas had a head full of dreams and friends he made up himself, so he was never really lonely. He was always wandering about in the woods close to where he lived, discovering interesting stones and butterflies and good trees to climb.

One day, his city was in an uproar because a dragon had come and was sitting on the belfry tower, growling and breathing fire any time someone came near.

Every knight in the kingdom tried to defeat the dragon, but one by one, they were killed. The dragon was vicious, and did not seem to have any weak spots.

Each day, Thomas' dad came home from work and shared the latest news. Thomas listened to the stories with bated breath, until he grew so curious that he wanted to see the dragon for himself.

He went to the city centre and stared at the dragon. He noticed that she looked scared rather than angry, so he climbed the stairs of the belfry until he was at the top.

Then he waved at her, and said, "Want me to help you down?"

The dragon blinked at him.

"You've got vertigo, don't you?" Thomas asked. "My mother has that, too. She was scared stiff when we visited the belfry."

The dragon shivered and nodded.

"You can do this," Thomas encouraged her. "I'll steer you to a meadow not far from here. There are woods all around it, with all sorts of animals you can eat, and caves you can sleep in."

The dragon blinked again, and then said, "That sounds nice. I'm hungry."

"Okay, I'm going to sit on your neck so I can bring you to the right place. Deep breaths. You can do this."

The dragon took a deep breath. It came out as fire, of course, and the people on the square below screamed.

Thomas saw that this made the dragon nervous. "Don't listen to them. Focus on me. Just me. I'm here. I'll help you. Now fly away, go on. Fly!"

The dragon spread her wings and flew away from the tower.

"Well done," Thomas encouraged her, "I'm so proud of you! A little to the left, please."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the meadow, and Thomas jumped off the dragon.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I know it's silly for a dragon to have a fear of heights, but I do. I hardly ever fly because of that, but I was chased away from my lair and had to find a new one. Thank you for helping me away from that tower. The only thing to eat there was doves, and I don't care much for them."

Thomas smiled. "You're very welcome. Want me to show you the biggest cave here? It's got running water and everything."

The dragon tucked in her wings and followed him, eating a few field mice and squirrels along the way.

She loved the cave, and thanked Thomas again. "I think I'll make my lair here. It's perfect."

"And if you get bored, this is my rock and shell collection," Thomas said. "I've got a bit of everything, and it's all labelled."

"This is your treasure?" the dragon asked.

Thomas grinned. "Yes."

"I will guard it with my life, Human."

"Thomas. My name is Thomas."

"I am Dalinda."

When Thomas got back home that evening, he found tons of people in front of his house. They clapped him on the back and congratulated him and wanted to know how he'd managed to drive away the dragon.

Thomas looked at his mother with a plea in his eyes, and she made them all leave, claiming that Thomas was tired and hungry and too young to be harassed by strangers. "Leave him alone! The dragon's gone and that's all that matters!"

And so the story died down, thanks to Thomas' mother. And Thomas had found in Dalinda a true friend. Together, they explored the countryside, and when Thomas came of age, he and Dalinda chose to travel around the world, with Thomas selling curios or doing handyman work to make a living.

Dalinda introduced them to her relatives across the world, who were fascinated by this fearless young man who hung out with dragons as if they were family.

And Thomas had the time of his life, teaming up with Dalinda to fight a greedy giant and later on a child-stealing witch, but those… are stories for another day.

The end."

There was a chorus of protest, but Kurt just laughed. "Time's up, people. I'll be back on Saturday, and I can tell you another story then."

Kurt got up from the floor, and some of the children rushed at him to hug him and clamour for another story, please, or at least another song, pretty please, but though he hugged them back, he would not be swayed. He instructed everyone to put the musical instruments back into the cupboard, and when that was done, he waved and said, "Bye-bye, see you guys on Saturday!"

Blaine followed him out, surprised at how much he'd enjoyed himself. "That story was amazing. Did you make that up off the cuff?"

Kurt flashed him a grin. "Yep. That's kind of my thing."

Then he added, "It's easier to daydream and make up stories than to live in reality, most days."

Blaine bit his lip. "True, that."

"So can I ask why you look half like a raccoon at the moment?" Kurt asked. "That's an impressive shiner."

Blaine shrugged. "You should see the other guy. He's in hospital."

"Karofsky?! You're the one who put him in hospital?"

Kurt sounded shrill, and Blaine shot him a quick look, before confirming, "Yep, that's me. Are you upset? Is he… your boyfriend or something?"

Kurt snorted. "Oh please! He's so far in the closet he can see Cair Paravel! No, I'm not upset. He's a stupid bully, and I'm glad someone finally gave him what for."

Blaine shrugged. "I just defended myself. I guess he's not used to people standing up for themselves. Got me into trouble, though. Which is why I'm here."

"Community service?" Kurt guessed.

Blaine pulled a face. "Right in one!"

"That's how I started here too," Kurt admitted. "I took it out on Karofsky's car, though. Messed with it a bit each day to give him car trouble. One day, somebody saw and snitched on me."

"And they sent you to this place?" Blaine surmised.

"Yep. And I liked it, so I kept coming. It's nice. I'm an oddball at school, but here, I fit right in. The kids think my hair, studs and tats are cool. They like my voice. They like my stories."

"Me too," Blaine admitted.

That garnered him a bright smile and a wink. "Well, see you on Saturday maybe, New Guy?"

"It's Blaine!" Blaine answered, but Kurt had legged it out the door before Blaine even got the first word out.

Blaine followed him out, but was halted by Dolores asking him, "So how did it go?"

"Uhm, all right, I guess?"

"You're scheduled again tomorrow, same time. You'll be working with Rachel. She only does singing."

Blaine didn't know what to say to that, unless, "And Saturday?"

Dolores giggled. "Smitten already, huh? Yes, you can come on Saturday too."