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S1 EP1
Washington
The story so far on—These Old Halls.
Kurt transferred out of McKinley because he was getting bullied by Karofsky who's hiding a big secret. Now he's settling in at Dalton with Blaine and the Warblers. Of course, he misses the New Directions, but Blaine's going to help him through it. Right? And that's the story so far, on These Old Halls.
Kurt Hummel was about to start his first day at Dalton Academy. It was the most nerve wrecking day of his life so far.
He was finally going to escape the horrors that had been haunting him for the past year. Horrors. Dalton's zero-tolerance no-bullying policy would keep him safe, at least from any bullies.
On the bad side, he had to leave all of his friends—the New Directions—Mercedes and Tina and Puck and Artie and Finn and Sam and Quinn and Brittany and Santana and Mike and Rachel. He was even going to miss Rachel. His dad and his stepmother had given up their honeymoon to pay for Kurt's tuition. He was going to school a good hour and a half drive away from his friends and family, which meant that, to save the morning and evening commute, he would be boarding at Dalton. With strangers. The GPA here for most of the students was a solid 4.0. Kurt was smart, but he was Lima-smart, and Dalton was famous for winning National Academic Conventions since 1958. The Professors here were actually going to eat him alive.
One thing that he overlooked, was that the rest of his new-found Dalton clan were going to be right there behind him, waiting to catch him if—or most likely when—he fell, even if they were the ones to push him in the first place.
The Washington building stood tall in front of Kurt. He could feel his heart in his mouth as he watched countless students just like him running around in their Dalton uniform. Except they weren't just like him, because this was his first day.
He took a moment to look around at that majestic place.
There were five main buildings—Jefferson, Washington, Franklin, Hamilton and Madison. The first four were boarding houses for the students. The Madison building was where the professors usually lodged for the duration of each term. A large stone path connected all five with a large fountain in the centre. The main schooling building stood separately from all of them, looming over the smaller buildings and making them seem insignificantly tiny in comparison.
The whole campus was relatively enclosed, and it was impossible for anybody who wasn't a student to get into the school—even Kurt didn't really understand how he had first gained access on his 'spying' mission.
Of course, Kurt had read all about Dalton in the countless leaflets and maps and lesson schedules that Blaine had showered him with, but actually being there was so much different.
He took a deep breath and started walking towards the Main Building, where he was to report to Professor Malkin, his new headmaster.
Malkin's office was somewhat grander than the rest of Dalton. From what Kurt had seen of the vast complex, he had great respect for the interior designer.
It had taken him long enough to find it, having walked into the main reception on the ground floor and being given directions, he'd followed them exactly and ended up on the floor below the office.
Determined not to break down before his day had even begun, he asked directions from a nearby Professor, who hastily showed him up the stairs and directed him down the corridor.
As Kurt had finally sat down on the uncomfortable—but impossibly expensive—leather chair in front of the headmaster's desk, he had suddenly started to worry about the complications of transferring so late in the academic year.
Professor Malkin had simply explained to him the rules, asking his name and telling him the specifics of his classes. He's been handed a timetable and also had been given a lecture on the importance of the Warblers to the school, although he wasn't quite sure why.
He had noticed, however, in the corner of the room, an elegant birdcage. Happily sitting on the little brass perch was a canary, although Kurt would not have noticed it if he hadn't been paying much attention to the headmaster, because it wasn't singing.
Kurt watched it as it in turn watched him.
'Now, you need a name, boy.' The headmaster boomed, breaking Kurt's gaze with the little bird. His grey hair was balding slightly, but his face was kind, with deep blue eyes that had a calming presence.
'I have a name. My name is Kurt.' Kurt puzzled, looking back up at Malkin, who just grinned.
'There's over a thousand boys at this school, I'll never remember that. I'm thinking...' He observed Kurt for a minute—the slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks, the delicately styled hair, and from what he'd heard from Blaine, this boy could sing too. 'I'm thinking Ariel.'
This headmaster was reminding Kurt more and more of Sue Sylvester as each second passed by. There were large trophies all over the room, and he'd just decided to call Kurt a girl's name. He even had a large picture of himself on the wall behind his desk.
'At McKinley, they called me Porcelain?' Kurt suggested, keen not to be known as the Little Mermaid for the rest of his life.
Malkin beamed and suddenly stood up, knocking the desk back a little and making Kurt jump with fright. 'Porcelain.' He held out a fleshy hand and Kurt shook it tentatively.
'Now, I suggest you take the day to find your way around. You'll be boarding in Washington, where I'm told you know a few of the students—' Kurt briefly remembered Blaine mentioning that most of the Warblers boarded in Washington, including himself.
'...and your choir coach, Mr Schuester, tells me that you have an extraordinary talent. I look forward to seeing you join our ranks as a Warbler, young Kurt. I'm sure Mr Anderson will help you settle in, he's told me a lot about you.' Malkin smiled, gesturing towards the door to indicate that Kurt was free to leave.
Kurt picked up his military style bag from his feet and made his way out, smiling to himself as he thought of Blaine. He couldn't help but wonder what he'd been saying about Kurt to the other Warblers.
'Oh, and Porcelain?' Malkin's voice made him turn back around.
'Yes Professor?' Kurt smiled.
Malkin sat back down in his squashy leather desk chair. 'Don't get into any trouble now, you hear? I know what it's costing your mother and father—'
'She's not my mom.' Kurt interrupted him, a sudden flash of anger across his face. In the background, the canary chirped, sounding slightly flustered, if a canary can sound flustered. Kurt looked at it curiously, and once again it looked back at him, and they watched each other.
'Please forgive me, your stepmother.'
Kurt wasn't sure exactly where his sudden outburst had come from—had it been the stress of the morning wearing his emotions thin a little?—but Malkin seemed to have learnt from his mistake.
'All I'm saying is, Kurt, I don't want to see you in this office unless it's for being wonderful, understood?'
Kurt nodded, and walked to the door.
'And Kurt,' He turned his head once more, silently battling himself in his head over whether he owed his headmaster an apology, and also slightly unnerved by the constant use of his name.
'Be careful. Dalton may have a zero tolerance bullying policy, but some of the boys here really do belong in a reform school.' Malkin's face was suddenly serious, as opposed to his previous light heartedness.
Kurt nodded slightly. 'I will Professor Malkin. Thank you.' He pushed open the heavy oak door and left the room.
'Good luck, Porcelain.' Malkin breathed, so quietly that Kurt just caught the words as the door closed shut behind him.
A young student sat on the stone steps leading down to the Washington entrance hall.
He sat alone, head resting in his pale hands—which in turn rested on the knees he had pulled up to his chest—staring into space.
His green eyes flickered back and forth between the floor and the grand front doors, and he pushed his brown hair out of his eyes every so often.
He was waiting for somebody who was either very very lost or very very late.
After about half an hour of wandering aimlessly around the Main Building and shamelessly bursting in on several lessons, Kurt finally found the main doors that led back outside.
He followed the stone pathway the way he had come, heading back towards the main gate. The Washington dorm lay just beyond the courtyards and just before the main gate.
He approached the building with a hesitancy, unsure whether there would be somebody to show him around or whether he'd be left to his own devices. Surely everyone was in lessons, including Blaine, who had been texting Kurt occasionally throughout the morning.
It was just as large as all the other dorms, but a smashed window on the first floor told Kurt this was not a house to be messed with.
He pushed open the grand entrance doors and stepped inside.
He didn't get very far—about one step through the door—when he slipped on the polished hardwood flooring and fell onto his stomach, landing splayed out on his front, with a squeak of surprise.
Another boy, who couldn't have been much younger than Kurt himself, ran down the stairs to help him. He had bright green eyes and dark brown hair, a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and smelt like fresh air and pine trees. Kurt thanked him as he was pulled to his feet.
'Thank you.' He blushed, embarrassed that on his first step into his new dormitories he'd fallen flat on his face. The other boy just grinned.
'I did exactly the same thing on my first day. Don't sweat it.' He had little dimples like Kurt's when he smiled. 'I'm Avery Taylor. Sophomore.'
Kurt held out his hand and Avery shook it firmly. 'Kurt. Kurt Hummel.' Avery smiled and nodded.
'Come on then Bambi, I'll show you around.' Avery took Kurt's hand and tugged him away from the main door.
What is it with these guys and Disney characters? Kurt made a mental note to find out if they all worshipped Walt Disney.
'It's a bit um, hectic around here. Just watch where you step.' Avery laughed, leading the way down the main hall to another corridor.
As they got deeper into the building, Kurt could tell that Washington was home to either the messier or the badly behaved of Dalton. Or both?
'—Some of the boys here really do belong in a reform school.' Malkin's words echoed in Kurt's head. He hoped not to bump into any of these reform boys.
Avery seemed nice to Kurt—reliable would be the word. Perhaps occasionally clumsy and sometimes useless, but Kurt could read people like books, and Avery had 'loyal' written all over him.
They reached a large room filled with bookcases, leather couches and a few desks. Like the rest of the school, it was adorned with antiques and paintings at every possible opportunity.
There was a collection of leather sofa's around a large coffee table, and then several smaller tables around the room with leather chairs around them. It was a mix between a coffee shop and an antique furniture shop. There were obvious signs of inhabitation, such as the countless coffee cups and takeaway boxes, the scattered papers on every table and the large bookcases lining the far side of the room, filled with books of every kind.
'This is the Washington common room.' Avery grinned sheepishly.
It was strangely quiet, but Kurt then remembered that everyone but himself—and apparently Avery too—was still in early morning lessons. Looking past the initial grandeur of the room, Kurt soon understood what Avery had meant when he told him to 'watch his step'.
There was a box of thumbtacks on the largest coffee table, along with a mess of coffee cups, magazines, notebooks, pens, paper, textbooks, various sweets, several packets of Red Vines and what looked like a plate of crackers. In all honesty though, there were more thumbtacks on the floor than in the box.
'Charming.' Kurt said, as he noticed a coffee coloured stain on one of the cream cushions. Looking around the room, he started to pick out all the faults.
There were missing keys on the computer in the corner, a vase on a shelf nearby that had definitely been broken and then glued back together several times. Kurt gathered by the takeaway cartons and pizza boxes that nobody really knew how to cook, and decided to ask Avery if there even was a kitchen.
'Is there a place to cook?' He asked.
Avery laughed. 'It's been, um, temporarily closed while they try to find out who set it on fire. Of course, it was just Lewis trying to bake again. But Malkin doesn't need to know that.'
Kurt sighed. 'Shame, I was going to make spaghetti for dinner.' Spaghetti was Kurt's go-to dish—he was planning on impressing Blaine and the rest of the Washington Clan with his culinary prowess.
'Never mind, we'll order a pizza or something instead.' Avery smiled, his green eyes glittering.
Kurt couldn't help but stare at Avery for a second. His eyes were the colour of the trees outside, yet they seemed to hide some sort of pain, and his smile almost sparkled with energy. He had a natural air around him, that scent of the forest just lingering over him, giving him an earthy presence. His brown hair was just fluffy enough to make Kurt want to ruffle it, if that was a socially acceptable thing to do. Those freckles gave him a look of innocence, but at the same time made him look wise, in an odd way Kurt didn't really understand.
Likewise, Avery was momentarily captivated by Kurt. Blue eyes with flecks of grey and green and all the colours in-between made him lose track of everything, however there was something else, a hint of the past in that glassy expression. He had full lips that never quite met, always leaving a gap between the two, however his smile was broad and bright. His hair gave him away, revealing his inner self-conscious insecurities. It was perfectly held into place by the hairspray that Kurt could never wash away the smell of, no matter how much apricot scrub he used.
Both boys seemed to realise that they had been staring at each other and shy smiles were exchanged. Avery shook his head slightly, as if to snap himself out of something.
'So, where's your dorm?' Avery asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. Kurt wondered if that was his poker-tell—the body language he used when nervous, embarrassed or feeling awkward.
'Hold on.' Kurt smiled, rummaging in his bag for the piece of paper Malkin had given him, listing his dorm room, head of year, head of house and the Washington Prefects.
'Dorm 12?' Kurt said. Avery raised an eyebrow.
'Interesting..' He smiled to himself, then started to walk—or more of a brisk sprint—back out into the corridor.
Kurt hurried after him, quickly stuffing the paper into his trouser pocket.
'What—what's interesting?' He said, having to walk quickly to keep up with Avery's sudden fast pace.
They reached the stairs back in the entrance hall and Avery swiftly climbed them, reaching the top in a matter of seconds. Kurt had to take them two at a time to catch up with him before he disappeared down another corridor on the next floor.
'You're dorm, it's right next to mine!' Avery's head turned and grinned at him for a second before facing back where he was going. His hair bounced slightly as he raced down the wooden halls, looking more alive than anybody Kurt had ever met.
He almost screeched to a halt outside an oak door, a golden plaque hung from it that read '12'. Kurt panted next to him, leaning against the wall and resting for a moment. When he'd caught his breath, he remembered the key that Malkin had handed to him, and he fished it out of his pocket.
Before he placed it in the lock, he took a look around. He couldn't really remember the route Avery had taken to reach this part of the building, but he was sure he would learn soon enough. They were at a dead end, two doors in front of them reading '11' and '12' and two other doors behind them reading '13' and '14'.
Looking back down the corridor from where he had run after Avery, he could see all the numbers leading up to these four, and at each end of the corridor was a large window, letting in streams of light at both ends.
'Open the door, go on, open it!' Avery jumped up and down excitedly. Kurt laughed, turning the key in the lock, when a door behind them opened.
'13' had clicked open and a head peered round the door. Kurt and Avery both turned in surprise, Kurt jumping a little, not used to the suddenness of everything at Dalton.
The head had a strong set face, quite full lips, a flattering nose and greyish-green eyes, although there were bits of blue scattered almost evenly amongst the green. Brown, shoulder length hair hung loosely and the longest points just reaching the figure's shoulders, partly covering the boy that belonged to the face's left eye and cheek. His eyes searched the pair and assessed Kurt quietly.
As Kurt stood as still as possible, the door swung completely open, revealing a tall boy in his pyjamas. It's ten o' clock, or near enough, thought Kurt, why isn't he in lessons like the other students?
'Avery, what are you doing to be making so much noise?' The boy spoke, a deep tone with a scowl to follow up. 'And who's this?'
Kurt tried to look past the fact that the boy was only wearing his red flannel pyjamas and a pair of grey cotton socks and managed to keep a straight face. 'I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel.'
He held out a perfectly manicured hand for the other boy to, presumably, shake. Kurt hoped he was being sophisticated enough.
The boy looked down at the hand for a moment, and just as Kurt was about to pull away, took it firmly in his own and shook it. His hand was rough on Kurt's. He obviously doesn't moisturise, Kurt decided. Letting go, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, in his attempt to show some sort of kindness towards Kurt.
'Blaine's told me about you. Take it you're going to be a Warbler?'
Kurt nodded, unsure why everyone was asking him or informing him all about the Warblers. Blaine had heard him sing once—at Mercedes' birthday party when Blaine had insisted he join in with the karaoke, but the machine had broken during the first few lines of his rendition of Like A Prayer. Kurt had blamed the high notes, Blaine had blamed Rachel for unplugging the machine when Mercedes had banned her from performing.
The boy shrugged, seeming disappointed. 'I'm sure you'll be great.'
He turned back to Avery, who grinned at him sheepishly.
'Right, can you please keep the noise down in future? Some of us have important exams coming up soon and some of us need to revise.'
Avery pulled a face. 'Sorry Liam.' He looked at the other boy with big innocent green eyes.
The other boy, who Kurt now knew as Liam, sighed with exasperation and turned back to Kurt.
'I'll always be across the hall if you ever need anything, kay?' He smiled properly and patted Kurt on the shoulder, and Kurt could instantly see that under the big 'do-not-disturb-me' act, he was open-hearted.
Kurt grinned. 'Thank you Liam.'
Liam trudged back into his room, closing the door behind him. Avery then turned back to Kurt.
'Come on then, open the door!'
Blaine Anderson had been sitting in second period Geometry for the past half hour, and there was still another half hour left to go. His digital watch read '10:10' and he repeatedly checked it every few seconds, anxious to get out of lessons and to catch up with Kurt.
A textbook lay open in front of him and an exercise book open to the side of that, with various pencils and pens scattered across the desk. He saw the professor walking around the class and pretended to ponder over an equation, the same equation he had had the page open at for the whole lesson.
The professor passed by him with a quick glance at his book, which was full of last week's equations but looked relatively the same to this week's. He nodded and moved on, leaving Blaine to count the remaining minutes left of the impossibly long lesson.
He just wanted to see Kurt, to help him settle in and make sure he didn't run into somebody he couldn't handle. Avery was showing him around and that's all good, but Avery was just a Sophomore and Kurt was just a Junior and if they ran into a potential problem, God knows how they'd handle it.
Blaine just didn't want Kurt to be in out of his depth on the first day.
Which is why he had protested so hard against the choice of Avery to show him around.
Not that he had anything against Avery, but when Malkin had suggested that it should be the newest Washington student and the youngest Warbler to settle Kurt in, Blaine had his doubts.
This, of course, had come with a flurry of comments from the other Warblers. It was bad enough that Blaine hadn't been able to stop worrying about Kurt at McKinley, but he was more worried of what the other Warblers were going to say or do to him, after everything he'd said about him.
Cringing, he remembered the day that he and Kurt first met, when he had spent the whole day trying to describe the exact colour of Kurt's eyes to Wes and David, who, with raised eyebrows, had told Blaine that if he carried on cooing over Kurt they'd have to throw him out of Malkin's office window.
Blaine had insisted his feelings towards Kurt were nothing but friendly. On the inside, he wasn't sure how he felt about this delicately sweet boy, who's story was almost as sad as his own.
Recapping all the other things he may or may not have said to various Washingtons about Kurt—'He's got the most gorgeous smile...'—he saw his phone flash on the table.
Thank God Malkin has no objection to phones in classes, Blaine picked up his phone and checked to see who it was, only wanting it to be that one person he couldn't wait to see.
New SMS - Kurt
Blaine clicked the keys on his Blackberry and navigated his way to the text in question.
Wow, I mean, wow! This morning's been mad. I got lost on the way to Malkin's and got lost on the way back. Then I slipped in the entrance hall and Avery had to help me up. Then I met Liam in the corridor, he seems nice by the way, and now me and Avery are in my dorm. It's huge, Blaine! Hurry up and get out of your lesson so I can see you before lunch, Wes and David want to speak to me at morning break. Kurt x
Kurt's ability to maintain perfect spelling and grammar whilst texting, even in his new-found excitement, never failed to make Blaine giggle. There'd been several occasions when Blaine had merely sent one-letter worded texts in reply just to get the priceless reaction of 'LEARN HOW TO SPELL BLAINE ANDERSON'.
Blaine smiled, glad that Kurt was enjoying himself, but constantly worrying what kind of trouble he could instantly be in. At least he hasn't run into any reform kids on his adventures so far, be thankful for that Blaine.
It was strange how close he and Kurt had become over the past few weeks. They had shared more with each other than with anyone else, although Blaine hadn't been afraid to get to know his friends either. If they were important to Kurt, they were important to Blaine.
Although that Santana scared him.
A plan formed in Blaine's head. He'd forgotten that Wes and David had planned a meeting with Kurt over morning break, concerning his musical talent, and needed to get out of Geometry now if he wanted to see Kurt before lunch, which was a whole hour and a half away.
'Sir?' Blaine raised his hand slowly, twisting his face into some sort of pained expression. While he waited for the professor to notice him, he packed his things away, putting his phone in his blazer pocket and gathering up all his books. He stuffed them into his bag and put on his best sick voice.
The professor came over to him quickly. 'What is it Blaine?'
'Professor Larkin, I don't feel too good. Can I go to the Medical Room?' Inside, Blaine was laughing. He obviously had no intention of going to the Medical Room.
Professor Larkin looked over his face worriedly. He was the youngest professor and usually sat in for others when they were absent. As a result, he was easy to fool.
'Of course you may.' He dismissed Blaine, who walked as painfully slow as he could to avoid the question of 'If you're so ill, why can you run?' and eventually made it to the corridor.
He walked calmly to the stairs, trying to contain himself. Surely it wasn't right for—after only six or seven weeks of friendship—him to want to run to find Kurt. He wouldn't let himself get so forward, he had learnt his lesson a long time ago and he was not going to learn it again.
He reached the entrance door and checked to make sure nobody was around. Seeing it was all clear, he made his way out into the warm sunlight that was pressing through the clouds above. The forest around Dalton whispered in the breeze and the fountain made noises rather like a waterfall.
Blaine managed to walk, or maybe confidently stroll, up until he reached the fountain in the centre of the stone pathway that connected the whole of Dalton.
That was, until he saw Kurt standing in one of the windows of the Washington dorms, and with a smile, broke into a run.
He charged into the large doors and pushed them open with all his might, propelling himself up the stairs and down the corridor.
Reaching '12' he knocked loudly, a broad smile on his face. Then, suddenly, he caught himself.
What are you doing? I thought you said it wasn't going to be like last time. You can't just do this, the feelings you feel for Kurt aren't in order, you don't know how or what you feel, so stop kidding yourself. You're just friends, that's all. Just friends.
He toned down his smile into a mere friendly grin, but as the door swung open, he gave himself away once more and beamed at the figure stood in the doorway.
Nice one Blaine, nice one.
'I thought you said you couldn't get out of lessons?' Kurt puzzled, but smiling, offered Blaine a seat around the little table that Kurt's room had provided him with.
Blaine ignored Kurt's gesture and pulled out the seat, indicating for him to sit down. Kurt smiled and sat down, and Blaine pushed the chair in a little.
Avery watched the proceedings with a raised eyebrow and a smile.
Blaine took a seat opposite Kurt and grinning, explained how he had escaped Geometry. At the end of his short story, Kurt nodded and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his pocket.
There were three of them. Blaine took the first in his hand.
Student Timetable - Hummel, Kurt
Monday - French, Mathematics, Modern Earth History, Biology (DP), Biology (DP)
Tuesday - Physics, English, Spanish, Performing Arts, Home Economics
Wednesday - P.S.H.E, Politics, French, Mathematics, Politics
Thursday - Spanish, Modern Earth History, English, Chemistry, Sports
Friday - Latin (DP), Latin (DP), Chemistry, Performing Arts, Physics
'You've got the same time-table as me. I'm going to be sick of you by the end of the semester, aren't I?' Blaine laughed, as Kurt handed him the next sheet of paper, and he read the title.
Rules and Regulations of Dalton Academy
As issued by headmaster, Professor D. Malkin
Blaine resisted the urge to laugh and immediately discarded the piece of paper. Malkin was a pushover, he wouldn't know his own rulebook if you hit him in the face with it.
Not that Blaine ever purposefully broke the rules, he was far too dapper for that.
A third piece of paper slid across the table and into Blaine's hands.
Important Numbers To Have Should You Ever Need Help
Blaine had a sudden flashback to when he held his own copy of this document in his hands. He'd seen it as unimportant, and thrown it away.
It wasn't until two months later when he regretted that decision—Avery had somehow ended up on the roof and Blaine desperately needed somebody to help. In the end, he had climbed up there himself and unhooked Avery from the weathervane. Of course, he'd then lost his footing and landed in a bush three stories down. He'd been in hospital for weeks.
Avery still wouldn't say how he got up there.
'I'd keep that if I were you. We'll put it on the notice-board or something.' He handed the paper back to Kurt, and rubbed his left wrist slightly. It still clicked every time he turned it, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Avery watching him, a guilty expression on his face.
Kurt took the three papers from Blaine and quickly looked over the Rules and Regulations sheet. There was nothing extreme, just what he had expected—no girls, no alcohol, no parties—and so he scrunched it up and threw it into the bin in the corner. The timetable went into his blazer pocket, the phone numbers stayed on the table in front of them. He would deal with them later.
Blaine smiled at him. 'How are you liking Dalton then?' Avery looked across at him hopefully, silently wishing he had been a good tour guide.
'It's great. I love it here.' Kurt smiled, but his eyes gave him away. They flickered up at Blaine and then to Avery, then back to Blaine, and then to his hands on the table. There was something missing from that glasz gaze, some kind of sparkle.
'It's okay to miss your friends, Kurt.' Avery said, just as Blaine was about to say the exact same thing. He nodded and agreed.
Kurt lifted his mouth into a sad smile. 'I just miss the drama, that's all.' He said quietly.
Blaine and Avery exchanged knowing looks, silently smirking at each other.
'Oh, I'm sure you'll... settle in.' Blaine struggled not to break his poker-face. This would be a lot easier if I had some damn coffee to hide in.
'I hope so.' Kurt replied.
As the bell rang for morning break, Kurt decided it would be wise to let Blaine have the key to his dorm, as he had a knack for losing things nowadays and it would be safer with Blaine. He handed over the key and then Blaine took him down to the Washington Hall, where he was to meet with Wes and David.
He gave Avery permission to stay in his dorm if he wished to, but Avery said he needed to get some Art homework done, so Blaine locked the door behind them after they all left.
'So, uh, what do you think they want to talk to me about?' Kurt asked, nervous about what Wes and David could possibly want with him.
'To ask you to be a Warbler, silly!' Blaine grinned. 'I may or may not have told them that you're an amazing singer... And they may or may not want to hear you sing.'
Kurt's face fell. 'Blaine! I haven't prepared anything, oh God, what do I do?'
Blaine couldn't help but chuckle, dodging the hand that Kurt threw out to slap his shoulder.
'It's not funny Blaine! I didn't know they'd want me to sing! What am I meant to do now, sing some cheap rendition of On My Own? Please Blaine, I'm not Rachel.'
Of course, he didn't mean that Rachel's version of On My Own was ever cheap, but he was using this for effect. An effect he hoped was working on Blaine.
'I could help you prepare now? I'm sure Wes and David will let you perform a duet.' He was trying to be helpful, but Kurt couldn't think of any good duets that he could teach Blaine in the space of ten minutes.
'Don't be ridiculous, what can I teach you now?' Kurt didn't mean to snap at Blaine, and instantly regretted it, but he was under sudden pressure and he didn't like it.
Blaine racked his brains. 'You know that song by Counting Crows? Um, Accidentally In Love?'
He didn't like to admit it, but he was a huge Shrek fan.
Kurt raised an eyebrow. 'This could work.'
Kurt and Blaine arrived slightly flustered at the Washington Hall dead on time. Wes and David exchanged amused grins and Blaine shot them a look that screamed 'shut-up-before-I-beat-you'.
Thad then rushed in behind the pair, and took a seat next to David at the Warbler's council table.
Kurt took a moment to look around the room. It was grander than the commons, and cleaner too. There were no thumbtacks in sight.
Blaine's eyes sparkled as he grinned at him. He knew they were ready.
Wes spoke first.
'So Kurt, Blaine told us you have an amazing voice and, well, to put it lightly, we need to hear it.'
David laughed and Thad nodded. Blaine led Kurt away from the open door and the pair stood in front of the council table.
'I hope you boys don't mind, but I asked Blaine to accompany me?' Kurt smiled, shooting sideways glances at Blaine, who looked pumped and ready to go.
Thad nodded once again and David smiled in approval.
'The stage is yours.' Wes said.
Blaine turned to Kurt, who smiled and took a deep breath. He was nervous, but Blaine was going to help him and that gave him the confidence he needed, just like he'd had the confidence to stand up to Karofsky.
'One, two, three..' Blaine mouthed at Kurt, then began to sing, to him rather than at him.
So she said 'What's the problem baby?'
What's the problem? I don't know.
Well, maybe I'm in love, love.
Think about it everytime I think about it.
Can't stop thinking 'bout it.
He smiled at Kurt, who started to sing his own part. Wes, David and Thad all leaned forward in their seats slightly.
How much longer will it take to cure this?
Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it.
If it's love, love.
Makes me wanna turn around and face me.
But I don't know nothing 'bout love.
Thad's mouth fell open slightly as Kurt's high tones filled the air, David just stared and Wes crossed his arms, smiling happily.
Blaine launched into the chorus, and Kurt joined in for every other line.
Come on, come on.
Turn a little faster.
Come on, come on.
The world will follow after.
Come on, come on.
Cause everybody's after love.
Blaine's smooth low voice mixed with Kurt's higher pitch and caused some kind of fusion, the likes of which neither Wes, David nor Thad had experienced before.
Blaine began his next verse, and started to dance his famous 'make-it-up-as-I-go-along' dance.
So I said I'm a snowball running.
Running down into the spring that's coming.
All this love.
Melting under blue skies.
Belting out sunlight shimmering love.
Kurt, smiling, began to try and join in the dance too, but lacking Blaine's stage confidence, he stuck to his legendary shoulder-wiggle. The Senior Warblers seemed impressed all the same, as he started to sing again.
Well baby I surrender to the strawberry ice-cream.
Never ever end of all this love.
Well I didn't mean to do it.
But there's no escaping your love.
Blaine rejoined Kurt for the next chorus.
These lines of lightning mean we're never alone, never alone, no no.
Come on, come on.
Move a little closer.
Come on, come on.
I wanna hear you whisper.
Come on, come on.
Settle down inside my love.
There were now somewhat dancing around each other, Blaine doing most of the 'around' part and Kurt remaining relatively grounded. Blaine span around him and every so often they caught glimpses of each other's faces, flushed and beaming.
Come on, come on.
Jump a little higher!
Come on, come on.
If you feel a little lighter.
Come on, come on.
We were once upon a time in love.
They sang the last lines together—Blaine stopped spinning and moved unbearably close to Kurt, their faces inches from each other, being able to smell the excitement on each other.
We're accidentally in love.
Accidentally in love.
We're accidentally in love.
Accidentally in love.
We're accidentally in love.
Accidentally in love.
Oh, I'm in love.
They stopped singing and the room fell quiet for a moment, allowing them a single second to look into each other's eyes and share the out of breath feeling.
That was, until something erupted near to the door.
Turning around sharply, Blaine saw basically the whole of the Washington house gathered by the door to the hall. They were all cheering and whooping—cheering and whooping for Kurt and Blaine.
Kurt blushed. Are we really that good together?
Among the faces, Kurt recognised only Avery. He thought he saw a glimpse of Liam too but there were too many students to see clearly. Smiling, he turned back to Wes, David and Thad.
The three Seniors exchanged the same look.
'Kurt Hummel. Welcome to the Warblers.' Wes smiled.
It was chaos after Kurt's 'audition'. Countless students—some Warblers, some just Washington boarders—approached both him and Blaine to tell them how wonderful they were, and how Regionals wouldn't know what would hit it that year.
Blaine was almost used to this kind of talk. Kurt, however, wasn't, and he'd had to ask a group of non-Warbler Washingtons to excuse him, before he vomited all over their expensive leather shoes.
He hurried out into the corridor and away from the hall, not exactly sure where we he was going. But as always, he was scared, so he ran.
He pelted out of the main doors to Washington and ran for the fountain, but mistakenly taking a left instead of a right, he winded up at the Courtyard instead.
Panting, he hastened towards a bench secluded under the shade of a willow tree. The drooping branches hung down and hid the bench from sight, and so Kurt picked that as his new thinking spot.
He parted some of the vine-line branches and walked through, then perched himself on the bench.
How did one little duet suddenly place the whole of Regionals on my shoulders?
Sure, he'd always wanted to be in the spotlight instead of Rachel, but on his first day he didn't expect to have such a big responsibility resting on him. Did they now want him to participate in every competition? Would he be called upon for every performance in future?
Kurt didn't know the answer to any of his questions.
He hid his face in his hands, holding himself together.
A voice brought him back to reality.
'Kurt?'
The voice was new—it wasn't smooth like Blaine's or young like Avery's, it was sharp and yet elegant.
Kurt lifted his head to see the newcomer part the branches just as he had, and stoop into the shade of the tree.
A boy stood over him, a curious expression on his face.
He had blonde wavy hair that just brushed across his shoulders, reminding Kurt of Liam, however his eyes were large and grey, seeming to take in every aspect of Kurt as he sat on the bench. The grey seemed to reflect the light in a way Kurt had never seen before, intriguing him slightly.
'Yes?' Kurt said, and the figure stooped down into a patch of light.
He had a relatively small nose and thin lips, however his jaw line was square and obviously an inheritance feature. His eyes seemed to narrow slightly as he looked at Kurt.
There was a look of familiarity about him, one of those faces that you're positive you've seen before somewhere.
He smiled thinly at Kurt, who smiled back, still curious as to who he was.
'Can I sit down?' The voice made Kurt shiver, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He sub-consciously tried to flatten them back down as he nodded, and the boy sat next to him, perhaps just a little too close for Kurt's liking.
'I'm Cordell. And you're Kurt Hummel, right?'
What a stupid question, Kurt thought, he's just called you Kurt and asked to sit down and now he's asking if you're name is Kurt.
'Nice to meet you Cordell—And yes, I am Kurt Hummel.' He said, still wondering why this boy was even here.
'I saw you run out of Washington, I take it you're boarding there?' Cordell asked. He smiled at Kurt again, but it looked pained, forced. Kurt nodded, unsure whether to trust this student. He definitely wasn't in Washington, because Kurt could see a yellow prefect badge pinned to his blazer, however he was a Warbler, because he had the well-known canary patch sewn to his collar.
If he was a Warbler, surely Kurt could trust him?
Kurt turned a little so he was directly facing Cordell. He observed everything about him, the way he sat up straight and didn't slouch, the way his head was high, and the permanent look of royalty plastered to his face. He watched the way Cordell's eyes looked about him, taking in his own stature.
'I board in Jefferson.' Cordell said, breaking the silence but not his gaze with Kurt's eyes. He gestured to the yellow prefect badge, 'Junior Prefect.' He smirked slightly.
'Oh, right.' Kurt couldn't really think of anything to say.
Cordell began to speak again, although Kurt was focusing more on how to get through the rest of the day.
'You should stop by Jefferson some time, I'd be more than happy to—'
He was cut off as a voice some distance away called out.
'Kurt? Kurt?' Blaine's voice shouted through the courtyard. Kurt snapped to attention and looked around for Blaine.
Cordell grimaced, and his nostrils flared in a way that was hard to ignore. He heard Blaine's voice and saw how Kurt responded, and it annoyed him.
The vine-like branches parted once more and Blaine's figure appeared in the gap. His face looked worried, but upon seeing Cordell, it turned to sheer anger.
'Cordell..', he bared his teeth, and Kurt could sense that he and Cordell did not get along. 'What are you doing here?' He forced a smile, looking from Cordell to Kurt and wondering what the hell was happening.
The other boy stood up, leaving Kurt sat on the bench, looking up at the two figures as they squared each other up.
'I was just talking to Kurt. Why are you here?' Kurt could see a bitch-off coming up.
Blaine looked down at Kurt. 'I was just coming to.. tell Kurt something.' His eyes looked into Kurt's, as if checking that he had not been tainted by Cordell.
'Well, see you around Kurt.' Cordell said to Kurt, however he didn't break his cold stare with Blaine. His grey eyes burned into Blaine's hazel gaze, 'Take care of yourself Blaine.'
With that, he parted the branches and left the shadows of the tree.
'What was that all about?' Kurt asked quietly. Blaine just looked down at him sadly.
'Nothing. Just.. just try to keep away from Cordell, kay?'
Puzzled, Kurt nodded. But Blaine's mind still wasn't assured.
'Promise me Kurt.'
Kurt stood up, and held out a perfect pinkie to Blaine.
'I promise.'
Blaine grinned and wrapped his own pinkie around Kurt's, who, smiling, decided he could finally go back to Washington and face the other Warblers, who were now so expectant of him.
Of course, as he and Blaine ambled back side-by-side, he couldn't help but wonder why Blaine wanted—or maybe needed—him to keep away from Cordell.
He wasn't really sure if he wanted to find out.
Cordell strolled away from the courtyard, a scowl on his face. As he reached the fountain, another student approached him.
'Losing your dare, hey Cord?' The student's voice taunted him, a smug grin on his face. He had a narrow face and jet black hair that was combed neatly. His brown eyes showed no warmth in them, but he spoke with confidence.
'Leave it Oscar, I'm not in the mood.' Cordell snarled, charging past the student, who simply held up his hands in mock surrender.
'Hey, hey, don't blame me. I'm not the one who's losing their dare here, am I? And you know what's gonna happen if you lose, Cord...'
Something snapped in Cordell's mind, and he turned on his heels, pelted towards the student and slammed him up against the fountain.
Several students nearby quickly scampered upon seeing the scene.
'Don't fucking push me Oscar.' Cordell yelled. The student known as Oscar kept his cool.
'Don't lose your bet then.'
Cordell dropped Oscar and sighed. Oscar watched the look of pure hatred on Cordell's face and, satisfied, he left him standing by the fountain.
When Kurt and Blaine arrived back at the Washington Dorms, all hell had broken loose.
The Seniors were running around commandeering all the younger students, and everyone seemed to be desperately trying to clean up.
Kurt hadn't realised how messy Washington actually was.
'Wes! What's happening?' Blaine shouted to Wes, who was hastily stuffing party streamers into a cupboard in the commons.
David appeared from behind Wes, and shouted a reply.
'Malkin's coming to visit Kurt.'
'Shit.' Blaine laughed, and started to run around the commons, gathering all the coffee cups and takeaway boxes and throwing them into bin-bags.
Kurt ran after him and tried to help, but Blaine stopped him.
'Go and stand in the entrance door. When you see Malkin, try and keep him outside the dorm for as long as possible. I'll come and get you when it's all clear. Okay?'
Kurt didn't know what it was but something about Blaine's new-found authoritive voice was giving him butterflies.
Blinking, he nodded and ran to the entrance door, just in time to see Malkin walking across the stone-pavings, carrying the large birdcage that Kurt had seen in his office, and trailing another professor behind him.
The second professor was younger than Malkin but not as young as Mr Schuester, so he was about middle aged. Kurt could see curly blonde hair and just made out his green eyes.
As Malkin approached the front door, Kurt tried to think of ways to stop the professors from entering without raising suspicion.
'Professor!' Kurt smiled as Malkin walked up the two or three stone steps that led up to the main doors. Malkin beamed back at him.
'Porcelain!' He grinned. The other professor stood a step or two behind him, and raised an eyebrow at the name Malkin had awarded to Kurt.
'I would like you to meet Professor Hart.' Kurt held out a hand for the professor, who shook it. 'Professor Hart, this is.. Kurt Hummel.' Malkin winked at Kurt as if to say 'hey-look-I-did-remember-your-name' and Kurt smiled.
'Professor Hart is Head of Washington House. He's your go-to guy if you ever need anything.'
Hart smiled at Kurt, a reassuring smile, but Kurt was still thinking of ways to distract them.
'Professors?', he began. 'Could you please... could you please tell me a few facts about Dalton? My dad just wanted to know some interesting things so I thought—'
Hart cut him off.
'Certainly m' boy! You see, Dalton was founded in 1852...'
Kurt wasn't even paying attention, he just nodded along as Hart recited a whole bookful of facts about Dalton. Even Malkin looked impressed at Hart's knowledge.
Kurt just looked down at the birdcage Malkin had in his right hand.
The little canary was washing itself in it's water-bowl, and it made Kurt giggle slightly, but it went unnoticed by the two professors.
As Hart recited more facts about Dalton and some of the ghosts that were claimed to haunt the hallways, the canary looked up at Kurt. It stopped washing itself and observed Kurt. Once again, the pair were watching each other.
Blaine suddenly appeared behind Kurt, placing his hands lightly on his shoulders, making Kurt jump a little. The canary went wild in the cage, fluttering around and chirping as if there was no tomorrow.
Malkin looked at the bird in amazement. 'That's the most he's moved all day.' He laughed, as Hart stopped spurting facts.
'Anderson,', Hart smiled. 'How's the family?'
Blaine shifted uncomfortably. 'They're, um.. they're good thank you Professor.'
Hart smiled and nodded.
'Please, come in Professor Malkin, Professor Hart.' Blaine gestured for Malkin and Hart to go inside, and they walked past and into the dorms.
'What did you do to hold them off?' Blaine grinned, nudging into Kurt a little. Does this count as being too forward?
Kurt smiled, his dimples making him look completely adorable. 'Asked for some Dalton trivia and Hart would not shut-up.'
Blaine laughed. Kurt looked at Blaine's hands, they were all cut up and bloody.
'What happened to your hands?' He exclaimed. Blaine shrugged, 'Broken vase. I blame Avery.' He grinned and led Kurt back inside.
'Quiet please lads, quiet!' Professor Hart stood in the Washington Commons, Malkin behind him. All the students fell silent, although there was an awful lot of fidgeting.
Every sofa was crammed with as many students that would fit on as possible, and every table had at least five or six chairs squeezed around it. It was the most students Kurt had seen in one place since he'd first visited Dalton, and Blaine had sung Teenage Dream.
Kurt and Blaine stood in the doorway, both unable and unwilling to enter the room any further.
Professor Malkin stepped forward. 'Thank you Professor Hart. Right lads, we'd just like to welcome Kurt Hummel to the Warblers..'
Every student in the room quickly looked around for Kurt, and soon every pair of eyes was focused on his figure in the doorway. Kurt blushed, but Blaine's hand brushed past his as he nudged him, smiling, and it gave him goosebumps. Had he been the only one to feel a spark?
'... and to welcome you to the Warblers, young Kurt, our oldest tradition for our newest member. Montgomery, a hand?' He said, looking down at Wes from where he sat around the nearest coffee table to him.
Wes nodded and stood up, and Malkin handed him the birdcage. The little yellow bird hopped up to his perch and looked around the room, before settling his black eyes on Kurt.
'Hummel, join me at the front please.' Malkin said, his voice booming off the walls in a way that gave him the authority needed.
Blaine pushed Kurt into the fray and all the students were suddenly parting to let him through. He felt pats on his back, somebody even tried to ruffle his hair but he slapped their hand away. Nobody touches Kurt Hummel's hair.
He finally approached Malkin—but not before tripping over Avery's foot, to the amusement of Blaine, who Kurt could see grinning by the door—and the headmaster smiled at him.
'Wes, if you would?' Malkin said to Wes, who stepped forward and handed Kurt the birdcage.
Kurt was confused at first, but took the cage in his hand, supporting the base with his right and holding the handle at the top with his left.
The bird inside fluttered down to the bars and peered at Kurt. After a few seconds, he started chirping happily. Malkin smiled.
'Kurt, this is Pavarotti. He's a canary, from an unbroken bloodline going back to the 1800's. It's your job to take care of him.' Wes explained, and Kurt smiled down at the bird. He'd never had a pet before, not so much as a fish, so this would be interesting to say the least.
Malkin and Hart promptly left, leaving Kurt standing at the front of the large group of Washingtons.
'Uhhh...' He said, as they all watched him.
Blaine appeared from nowhere and as the bell rang out for third period, he shooed all the students off to their lessons.
'I've got Modern Earth History now, so um..' He started to rummage through his pocket, then eventually pulled out two keys and held them both out to Kurt, who held the cage with Pavarotti in firmly in his right hand, and took the keys with his left.
As students bustled around them, Blaine wasn't in any rush.
'Right, use that key I just gave you to get into my room. Go in and open the third drawer on my desk. You should find a load of books about canaries, and some bird-food. Take whatever you want, and I'll see you there at lunch.'
With that, he picked up his bag from one of the coffee tables—where he must have left it whilst tidying up—and dashed off to his lesson.
Kurt looked down at the birdcage in his hand, and the bird looked up at him, chirping cheerfully.
He couldn't help but smile.
Pavarotti sang contentedly from where his cage sat on Blaine's bedside table. A short distance away, Kurt was rummaging through Blaine's third desk drawer. He'd already pulled out a thick book about caring for canaries and a packet of specially formulated bird food, which were now placed on Blaine's bed. He wasn't even going to ask why Blaine had all of this.
Blaine's room was darker than Kurt's, a bookcase in the corner crammed full of books about mechanics and football and then various fashion magazines, then more books, cooking and animals and mathematics. Blaine was definitely a book-reader—the whole bottom two shelves were full of fantasy novels.
As he pulled out various leaflets and informational books about canaries, he found something small at the back of Blaine's drawer.
It was a small packet, about the size of Kurt's palm. He couldn't see it, as he was basically feeling around in the dark of the drawer for more packet of bird food, or a cage-cosy. There were then more small packets too. Kurt began to wonder what they were.
He pulled his hand out of the drawer, realising he'd become ever so slightly stuck, and having to pull back on his own arm.
Finally freed, he fell back a little and observed the packet.
He gasped as he realised what it was, then burst into an uncontrolable fit of the giggles.
The packet was small and blue, the edges all jagged. There was that circular shape as the object inside pushed against the outer packaging.
Blaine's got condoms.
Kurt couldn't stop laughing. He laughed for a good ten minutes, and he was surprised that Liam didn't hear him from next door and come in.
Managing to control himself, he put the condom back in the drawer with the others and covered them with the leaflets and books.
That would make good leverage should Kurt ever need any.
Still giggling, he closed the drawer and left Blaine's door key on the desk, then he walked over to Blaine's bed and sat down upon it. It was springy and comfortable, perfect for sex, Kurt couldn't help but laugh again. Everything was setting him off.
Pavarotti looked at Kurt, and something in his beady eyes pleeded with Kurt for freedom. Checking that all the doors and windows were closed, Kurt opened the cage and Pavarotti fluttered out, circling the cieling lamp for a few seconds before landing on Kurt's shoulder.
Kurt looked at the bird and laughed, and in reply, Pavarotti chirped.
'Okay, whatever you want.' He smiled, reaching up a finger to stroke the bird.
Pavarotti seemed to enjoy being stroked—Kurt made a mental note to remember that.
He opened the packet of birdfood and poured some into the bird's bowl. Pavarotti watched silently, not even slightly phased at Kurt's sudden movements.
Then he decided to read the mahoosive book that he was now going to borrow from Blaine. It was mainly rambling on about the history of canaries and how they would live if they were wild.
He found himself suddenly feeling really tired. Lying down on his front, he pressed the book as close to is face as possible, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.
Of course, this was Kurt Hummel, the king of falling asleep in inappropriate places, and so he rested his head on Blaine's pillow and closed his eyes.
Pavarotti chirped quietly and hopped up into Kurt's hair, then nestled himself down and closed his eyes too.
Blaine walked back from Modern Earth History with the biggest scowl on his face. Not only had his homework been deemed 'unacceptable' by Professor Atkin, but he had been partnered up with Cordell for next week's assignment.
Could things get any worse?
He charged through the Washington halls, trying to avoid anyone who would worsen his mood.
Then he ran into Wes and David.
'Blaine!' Wes shouted from down the corridor, and Blaine tried to ignore them. Suddenly David was next to him. 'Your boyfriend was looking cute this morning', he grinned, and Wes jumped up on the other side. 'You must be having problems controlling the shape in those pants of yours.' He laughed.
Blaine had never heard Wes and David so gleeful before. Of course, they'd always been jokesters and they'd always teased Blaine about other boys—that time when Blaine had 'fallen in love' with the pizza delivery boy—but they'd never gone so far as to mention.. that.
'Guys, do you mind? Me and Kurt are just friends.' Blaine said, trying to push past them, but they blocked his path.
'Oh come on Blainers, we saw you staring at Kurt at break, we see the way you sing to him, you can't hid anything from us.' David smirked. He and Wes were almost as bad as the Covington twins, who Blaine hoped Kurt hadn't run into yet, for his own sake.
'Kurt and I are just friends. Okay? I don't get... hard around him so please leave it.'
Wes and David burst into peals of laughter and Blaine pushed between them, charging down the corridor and then up the stairs to his dorm.
Wes turned to David. 'Oh lord, he has no idea.' The pair started laughing again, as they wandered off to the commons.
Blaine found his door unlocked, just as he had expected it to be, which meant Kurt was still inside.
He opened the door and looked around the room. He didn't notice Kurt at first, until his gaze found his bed.
Kurt was curled up on Blaine's duvet, happily smiling in his sleep as he cuddled Blaine's pillow. Blaine giggled a little. His previous rage at Professor Atkin seems to dissapate at the sight of Kurt's tiny little figure curled up on his bed.
Then he noticed Pavarotti, nestled in Kurt's hair, and Pavarotti noticed him, and began to chirp excitedly, flapping out of Kurt's hair and around Blaine's head.
Blaine shut the door quickly to ensure the bird didn't escape and then patted his shoulder. Pavarotti settled himself on Blaine's shoulderpad and chirped calmly.
'Kurt? Kurt wake up.' Blaine said, walking over to Kurt and shaking his shoulders lightly.
'No Dad I don't want to go to school today...' Kurt mumbled in his half-conscious sleep. He rolled over and swatted Blaine away.
'Kurt, come on, get up.' Blaine shook him a little bit more.
'I don't want to go, Karofsky said he'd kill me Dad, I don't want to go..'
Blaine felt a twinge in his chest. Kurt's smile turned to a frown as he struggled to shake Blaine's hands off his shoulders. 'Kurt, get up!' Blaine said, louder than before, and Kurt's eyes blinked open. He looked up at Blaine, eyes hazy.
'Blaine?' He muttered, then he remembered the packets he found at the back of the drawer, and began to giggle.
Blaine sat down on his bed, near to Kurt's legs, and looked at Kurt carefully. He was giggling as he sat up and fixed his hair, and couldn't look Blaine in the eye.
'Kurt, are you okay?' Blaine asked softly, wondering if Kurt had been given some kind of drink from the Covingtons.
'I'm perfectly fine thank you.' He giggled.
'Um, okay then. Come on, let's get you to your room.'
He scooped Pavarotti into his hand and placed him gently back into his cage, closing the brass door and making sure it was locked.
Then he took Kurt's hand and pulled him up. He took the birdcage in his other hand and then led Kurt across the hall and into his own room. He'd give him the book—which he'd only just realised Kurt had fallen asleep with his face in—and the bird-food in the morning.
Setting Pavarotti's cage down next to Kurt's bed, he placed Kurt on his own bed and told him to get some sleep.
Kurt rummaged through his suitcase—which Avery had dragged up for him during morning break—for some pyjamas, despite the fact it was around half past one in the afternoon. He then turned to Blaine.
'I know we're good friends and all, but I'd really prefer to get changed without you watching.' He smiled awkwardly, and Blaine realised what he meant and quickly left.
He closed the door as Kurt started to unbutton his shirt, and suddenly he became conscious of what Wes and David had been reffering to.
There was a situation materialising in his boxers.
'Oops.' He grinned despite himself.
Thank God the corridor's empty, he thought, as he quickly waddled into his dorm room and closed the door, a crimson glow on his face.
Poor Blainers XD
Disclaimer—I do not own GLEE. Sadly.
Feel free to leave reviews. Every review this story gets creates something naughty in Blaine's pants.