A/N: Like I said in the summary, this is sort of a prequel to my one shot "Mine." :) My friend Meg read "Mine" and told me that this could be a 'verse and I should write another oneshot explaining Blaine's move to Lima. So, here it is. Thanks to Meg for coming up with a title to this fic, and the title to the 'verse is "All Is Fair in Love and War." It's basically smut, with a little plot. Enjoy!
Word count: 3,103
What Blaine remembers most is the yelling. It had just been something typical in the Anderson household. He'd come home from school as a kid to find his mom and dad yelling about something in the kitchen. His brother had grown up yelling and arguing with his father. One night when he was ten, the last night he saw his brother, Cooper, Cooper and his father had yelled at each other. Eventually, his dad began yelling at him, too. His father would yell horrible, awful things at him. One day, when he was seventeen, Blaine yelled back. That was the day his father hit him.
That was the last day him and his mother heard the yelling.
"Again?" his mother whispered harshly as they sat in the front office, waiting to speak to the principal. She waits for a reply, but the only response she gets out of Blaine is a shrug of his shoulders. He doesn't care. No, of course not. Blaine doesn't care about anything anymore. "Blaine," she sighs, defeated. "That's the third time in just two weeks." Once again, the only reply she gets is a shrug.
"Mrs. Anderson?" the principal calls out as a student exits his office.
Blaine and his mother stand up, moving into the small, crowded office. "Ms. Anderson," she corrects him, again, and sits down in the familiar chair in front of his desk. What did Blaine do now? Before she finally left his father, the only time she'd get calls from the principal about Blaine was if it were to praise him. Now, though, the only calls she received were bad, telling her all the horrible stuff the boy does at school.
"Did you tell your mother why you're here?" the principal asks Blaine. He shakes his head, fidgeting with that damn ear-piercing he randomly came home with one night after they moved to Lima. He sighs, turning to face Blaine's mother now. "Blaine has disrupted class again," he explains. "Except this time, the disruption was not him back talking the teacher, or snoring obnoxiously in class."
She turns to look at Blaine, waiting to see if he'd be the one to drop the bomb on her instead of the principal. But, of course, she was left with silence. "What did he do?"
"According to the teacher's report, Blaine began yelling at another student in the class room and proceeded to punch the student in the face, leaving him with a black eye." She gasped, covering her mouth at the picture playing in her head. She couldn't imagine it. Blaine had always been such a sweetheart. What had happened to him? What had happened to her sweet little boy? "The other student's parents have agreed not to press charges," the principal assures her. "But I think you should know that we do not tolerate violence in this school, Mrs. Anderson."
"Ms. Anderson," she huffs, frustrated. She's been in this office at least once a week in the month that Blaine had been here, and she had to correct him every time. 'Mrs. Anderson' would mean she was still married. 'Mrs. Anderson' would mean that she hadn't been strong enough to leave. But she did, she left the home she had been unhappy in for years. It was hearing the smack reverberate in the otherwise silent kitchen and seeing tears in Blaine's eyes as he clutched his cheek that had finally caused her to become 'Ms. Anderson'.
"As a result," he says, ignoring her. "We ask that Blaine be removed from the school and to not return. We do not tolerate that kind of behavior; I won't have it in my school."
She nods her head, turning to look at her son. He wears a look of indifference as he continues to twist the diamond studded piece of jewelry in his ear. "Blaine," she sighs, running her fingers through her messy, black hair. "What am I going to do with you?"
Blaine looked up at the big white lettering above the entrance of the school. 'William McKinley High School' was written in large, blocky letters. This was the new school his mother had chosen he transfer to? He rolls his eyes and walks into the building, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket.
"What am I going to do with you, Blaine?" his mother's words run through his head. He can still hear the sound of disappointment in her tone and see the look of it in her eyes. Blaine shakes his head at the memory, walking into the office to retrieve his schedule. He'd be fine here, just as long as nobody tried to fuck with him. He can still hear the boy behind him in math class whisper, "Hey Blaine, I heard mommy and daddy broke up because he didn't want his son to be a little faggot."
There was that word again. The word his father had spat out at him every day since the day Blaine had told him he was gay when he was sixteen. The day Blaine had finally stood up for himself was the day he heard the loud smack as fire spread through his face. He thought his mother leaving his father would be his escape from the hateful word. So when the boy whispered it into his ear and proceeded to laugh and giggle with his buddy, Blaine turned around, yelled 'fuck you' and punched that ignorant piece of shit in the eye.
Blaine walked up to the secretary in the front office, drumming his fingers against the desk to get her attention. "I'm Blaine Anderson," he explained. "I just transferred and I need my class schedule."
She smiled brightly at him with rosy pink cheeks, nodding her head. "Of course, sweetie," she spins around in her chair. "Kurt, honey, would you look through the schedules for B. Anderson's?"
The boy she had talked to stood up from his place in the far back corner of the office. He nodded his head and made his way across the room to the filing cabinets. The boy was fucking beautiful, to say the least. He took long strides in his trip across the room due to the length of his legs. He had long legs that were cladded in tight, hot red pants that looked as if they were painted on to his light porcelain skin. The boy worried his lip between his teeth in concentration as he searched through the files.
He pulled a paper out of the cabinet, making an 'Aha!' sound while doing so. "Blaine D. Anderson?" he asks, his voice high yet soft and music to his ears. Blaine nodded and the boy walked over, handing Blaine his schedule. "Here you go!" Blaine pays attention to the boys face, taking in the shocking bright blue of his eyes and the sharp, defined shape of his jaw line. He sees small strands of brunette hair sweeping across the boy's forehead that had somehow managed to escape the hair sprayed coif. He wore a lanyard around his neck with an ID that read 'Kurt H., Office Assistant.'
Blaine takes the schedule from Kurt. "Thank you, gorgeous," he winks, grinning at the blush that had begun to spread through Kurt's cheeks.
Blaine had a feeling he was going to like it at McKinley.
"No way," Puck shouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "There is no way that new kid is more bad ass than me!" Santana had walked into the choir room after school that day, asking Puck if he had heard of the new student that had just transferred today and had already stole Puck's title as McKinley's residential bad ass. "As far as bad asses go, I'm number wah! Anderson doesn't have anything on the Puckasaurus."
Kurt rolled his eyes. Why were labels so important in this school? Besides, Santana was right. Blaine Anderson had only been at McKinley for a day and he already had more bad boy cred than Puck had managed to muster in his four years here. Rumors spread throughout the day, theories on what he had done to get kicked out of his old school verging on the brink of insane. Kurt knew the truth, though. After Blaine had left the office, Kurt snuck his—incredibly large—file out of the filing cabinet and read it until the bell rang.
"Just ask Hummel!" Santana shouted. "He knows, I'm sure of it. He's an office assistant and I know the secretaries sure love their gossip."
Puck turned his attention to Kurt now. "Tell me, Hummel," Puck insisted, his tone becoming frustrated. "What on earth did this kid do to be more of a bad ass than me?"
Kurt opened his mouth to speak, being cut off before he could even utter a sound. "He punched some piece of shit in the face for calling him a faggot." Puck, Kurt, Santana and the rest of the glee club who had listened in on their discussion turned towards the front of the room. Blaine Anderson stood there, leaning on the piano, a smirk across his face. "I'm sorry, Puckerman," Blaine said, walking over to the chairs and plopping down in the one next to Kurt. "I guess you weren't as bad ass as you seem to think you are, or your title wouldn't have been stolen from you so easily." Blaine drapes his arm across the back of Kurt's chair, leaning back in his seat. He looks at Kurt and smirks, nodding his head in acknowledgement. "What's up, gorgeous?"
Kurt fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, turning away from Blaine as the blush began to spread through his cheeks. Kurt locked eyes with his ex boyfriend, Sam, across the room. Sam's eyes were hard, judging the new kid. "What are you doing here?" Sam snapped.
"Yeah!" Puck shouted. "What the fuck do you want?"
Blaine chuckled, using his other hand to run his fingers through his messy, curly hair. "I just wanted to sing some show tunes, you know," he says. "Maybe spend more time with Kurt here and watch him dance a little, you know, shake those hips." Kurt turned to look at Blaine again, sure that his face was the same color as a tomato. Kurt was biting his lip, trying to refrain from grinning. He knows he should probably be offended at how crude Blaine was being. But, what can he say? He likes the attention.
Sam popped up out of his seat. His face was red, too, but, as opposed to Kurt, his face was red from anger. "I think we can manage without you, bro."
"Mr. Schuester already said I could join," Blaine informs Sam, shrugging. Blaine leans in closer to Kurt, his lips only inches away from his ear. "This is gonna be fun," he whispers, his hot breath shooting sparks through Kurt's body. "Isn't it, gorgeous?"
"Stop staring at my ass," Kurt teased Blaine as they did their warm up exercises before dance rehearsal. Kurt was bent over in front of Blaine, touching his toes. Kurt looks at Blaine as he does so, smirking at the dark look in Blaine's eyes. He stands up straight, turning around to face Blaine.
Blaine shakes his head, looking up at Kurt now. "Hummel," he breathes, his voice low and rough. "You can't wear pants like that and expect me to not stare at your ass."
Kurt laughs. It's been two months since Blaine Anderson transferred to McKinley and ever since, he and Kurt have played this game of cat and mouse. The last two months had been filled with constant teasing and lingering touches, dirty words and flirty smiles. You could say that Kurt and Blaine had become an item, although Blaine would never admit it. Kurt knows better, though. He knows that all the make out sessions on Kurt's couch and the few hand jobs given in Blaine's bedroom mean something. After all, Blaine always came back to Kurt for more. "Come on," Kurt says. "We have to go dance."
"How can you expect me to be able to remember choreography when all I can think about now is your amazing ass?"
"If you buy me coffee when we get out of here, Kurt begins. "Maybe I'll let you touch it." Blaine stands still, watching Kurt purposely sway his hips as he makes his way to the rest of the glee club members on the other side of the auditorium stage.
Coffee sounded like a good idea.
They didn't drink the coffee.
Blaine took them straight to his apartment, thankful his mom always worked the night shift at the 24 hour diner she works at. There were a lot of teeth clacking against teeth in messy, hungry kisses as they tried to make it into the apartment and to Blaine's bedroom as fast as possible. The boys only made it to the living room before Kurt decided the bedroom was too far and pushed Blaine on to the couch.
Even though Blaine didn't buy Kurt coffee, Kurt still let him touch his butt. Blaine grabbed it, kneading both cheeks in his hands as Kurt straddled his lap. A breathy moan escaped Kurt's kiss swollen lips when Blaine's hips bucked up, desperate for friction. "Why," Kurt pants, placing a kiss on the column of Blaine's throat. "Are," he gives his neck another kiss. "Your pants," he bites now, eliciting a groan from Blaine. "Still on?"
Kurt began fidgeting with Blaine's pants button as he continued to bite and suck at his neck, driving Blaine crazy. Kurt got off of Blaine's lap and sunk down to his knees in front of Blaine, unzipping his pants. Blaine lifted his hips up, making it easier for Kurt to remove his pants and boxers in one swift movement. Kurt pressed light kisses up the length of Blaine's painfully hard cock, taking in Blaine's reaction as he looked up at the boy through his eyelashes.
"Don't take too much all at once," Blaine cautioned Kurt.
Kurt laughed, wrapping his hand around the base of Blaine's cock as he places wet, open mouthed kisses on Blaine's hip bones. "I know how to give a blow job, Blaine," Kurt assures him.
"I- I thought you've never had se-" Blaine grips on to Kurt's shoulders and moans when Kurt rolls Blaine's balls in the hand that's not working its way up and down his cock. "Fuck."
"This isn't my first blow job. When Sam and I dated we gave each other blow jobs all the time," Kurt says. Blaine looks down at Kurt, angry and turned on all at one time. Now is not the time to hear about Kurt and his ex boyfriend who sent Blaine angry glares every time he talked to Kurt. He's left with just being turned on once Kurt's mouth slowly sinks down on his cock until Kurt's nose is touching his belly.
Blaine grips Kurt's hair in his hands, fighting the urge to buck up his hips. "Holy fuck," Blaine groans, throwing his head back once Kurt hollows out his cheeks and begins moving his head up and down. Kurt hums around Blaine, causing him to tug harshly at Kurt's hair.
He gets off with a loud pop, still fisting Blaine's dick in his hands as he kisses up Blaine's body to his ear. "But do you wanna know something, Blaine?" he whispered breathily into his ear. "You're going to be the first person inside of me."
He releases Blaine's cock and stands up, stripping off his clothes. "Do you have condoms?" Blaine doesn't even answer, just takes off his shirt and runs to his bedroom to get the condoms and lube. He comes back to find Kurt sitting naked on the couch, eyes screwed shut as strokes his cock.
Blaine wastes no time coating his fingers with lube and gently pressing one finger into Kurt, down to his knuckle. He moves his finger in and out, stretching him slowly. He watches closely as Kurt slowly falls apart beneath him, paying attention to the way Kurt's chest rapidly rises and falls. He pays attention to the way he writhes as Blaine adds another finger and then another. He pays attention to the way Kurt says his name. "Blaine," he moans. "Blaine, please."
Kurt rolls the condom on to Blaine, his hands shaking. Blaine sits up on the couch and holds Kurt's hips as he straddles Blaine's lap, hovering over his cock. Slowly, he sinks down on to Blaine, screwing his eyes shut as he stretches around him. "Are you okay, baby?" Blaine whispers shakily, his fingers digging into Kurt's hips.
Kurt crushes his lips against Blaine's, wrapping his arms around his neck and curling his fingers in his messy curls. "It just- It feels... full," he rests his forehead against Blaine's. "Please move."
And Blaine does. He moves slowly, gently, letting Kurt get used to the feel of it. He feels Kurt relax around him as the pain turns into pleasure, and it isn't long before he starts begging for Blaine to go faster. Blaine obliges, his moans muffled as he presses kisses to Kurt's skin. "God, this feels so good," Kurt whines, moving his hips faster and pushing down on Blaine harder.
"Touch me," Kurt begs, scratching his nails down the front of Blaine's chest. Blaine can feel the heat beginning to pool in his belly as he reaches out to wrap his hand around Kurt's cock. It's a matter of minutes before Blaine feels Kurt clenching tightly around him, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle his noises. He fails though, and is soon yelling out Blaine's name as the hot, sticky liquid is coating his hands.
Blaine follows soon after. He pushes his hips up hard into Kurt one last time before his hips still and he comes into the condom. When he's out of the post orgasm haze, he notices Kurt's shaking, his face hidden in the crook of Blaine's neck. Blaine slowly pulls out of Kurt, eliciting a harsh intake of breath from the other boy. "Are you okay?" he asks, concerned as Kurt continues to shake against him.
"I am fucking amazing," Kurt says, pressing his lips against Blaine's. "That felt so good." He sighs against Blaine's lips and lays his head on his shoulder, absent mindedly tracing patterns into the skin on Blaine's chest. "Blaine?" Kurt interrupts the silence that had fallen over the room as the boys caught their breath.
"Yeah, baby?" Blaine murmurs sleepily into Kurt's hair.
"Don't think I forgot about the coffee."