The Cake Is Always a Lie
Summary: Blaine's having kind of a miserable night, made only more so by the fact that he's in such an awful mood that everyone's avoiding him. Until Kurt shows up and somehow makes life a little better not by commiserating but by proving inexplicably good at Portal. Guest starring a stuffed Weighed Companion Cube and a frozen Snickers. Pre!Klaine and nerd!Kurt, as is my usual standard.
Disclaimer: AHAHAHAHA. No.
AN: Yeah, okay. I keep saying I'm gonna quit with the video game one shot nonsense, but I just can't help it. It's like I'm an m-type and the plot bunny's got a riding crop.
Blaine was in a mood.
That was what everyone had told him when he'd mentioned idly that he was going to go say hi, anyway. Wes had grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him lightly back and forth to try and pound his point in, while David merely rubbed his temples and told Kurt that he was a brave, brave man. Trent just rolled his eyes and told him to leave the cranky baby alone to sulk about whatever had crawled up his butt to die.
The thing was, Kurt knew how sulking worked; he had been known to have his less-than-stellar moments as well. The last thing he really wanted when he wanted to set the world ablaze (or however Blaine was feeling at the time, maybe it was just Kurt that wanted to set the whole planet on fire) was to be left alone.
Nothing ever got better the more one thought about it, and being left to one's own devices only tended to make everything worse.
Kurt shrugged Wes' hands off his shoulders and ignored David's dramatic weeping goodbyes as he continued on his way, holding his head high.
Kurt Hummel was scared by no one's dramatics, especially not Blaine's. The boy was about as intimidating as a kiwi bird and Kurt had been a Cheerio with Santana Lopez for a good long while, it was no competition in his mind.
Keeping that thought at the forefront, Kurt steeled himself for anything and extended a hand to knock sharply on the door to Blaine's dorm. Almost immediately, the thud of something hitting the door met his ears, and Kurt frowned. Throwing things? Really?
"Go away!" filtered through the wood.
Kurt's scowl deepened.
Like hell.
Blue eyes traveled to the door, and after a customary pat of his bag to make sure he had everything, Kurt reached out to try the knob. When he felt it turn, a small part of him that feared that he'd been wrong loosened and evaporated.
No one who really wanted to be alone ever left their door unlocked.
Kurt stepped in and surveyed the room, tilting his head.
Apparently, the boyishly messy Blaine was a stress cleaner, shown by the fact that everything had been picked up off the carpet and that the older boy was hunched over his desk, scrubbing angrily at something on his desk with Windex as if he could cause a nuclear explosion.
"I said go away," Blaine snapped and the taller boy ignored him, coming fully into the room and shutting the door behind him.
"You say that," Kurt said gently, "But if you really wanted to keep people out, you would have locked your door. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Uh-huh."
Kurt's tone was dry and unimpressed and he tapped his chin with a finger.
"Do you know that I'm about the only person who probably gets what's going on here?" he asked finally, conversationally, "You've scared everyone off to make them think that you want to be alone, but that's really about the last thing you want and you're probably at that point where you're just pissed off at everything. Trust me, I've thrown enough tantrums for various reasons to know."
"I'm not throwing a tantrum."
"Oh? Then what are you doing?"
Blaine turned and glared at him, scrubbing even harder at his desk. Kurt raised a brow and parked himself firmly on Blaine's bed, crossing his legs.
"I'm cleaning."
"I can see that. Well, you're welcome to keep cleaning. I, however, am borrowing the use of your television and Xbox. I grabbed my copy of Portal over the weekend."
"And you can't play it in your room?"
"Oooh, testy," Kurt chided, ignoring the death stare he was getting from his friend in favor of opening his bag and pulling out the game, flipping on the television and setting up the game system. "I suppose I could, but that would kind of defeat the purpose of my being here, wouldn't it?" Blaine just scowled at him as if Kurt's purpose for being there meant less than nothing to him. "Anyway, you can keep cleaning if you really want to. If you don't, you're welcome to come sit with me and play a few stages."
"It's my room; I can do whatever I want."
Blaine was conspicuously not kicking him out.
"You can," Kurt conceded, paying attention as the startup screen loaded, "I encourage it entirely." With a jaunty incline of his head, Kurt turned back to the game and continued where he left off.
Unlike a lot of games (and Blaine had watched him play a lot of games at this point in their friendship) that Kurt played, when he played this he seemed to completely zen out. Oftentimes, he shouted at the screen or it if was a shooter or a racing game he'd sway back and forth and contort himself into weird shapes in order to somehow make himself play better, but now… he was calm and absolutely still.
There was little background music aside from the occasional chime and the main sounds coming from the game were the noises of footsteps, the mechanical voice of… whatever that thing was that kept talking, and the swoosh-k'thunk of the weird gun that spat out holes.
Blaine's furious scrubbing slowed to a crawl and he found himself paying attention to what the other boy was doing. Kurt wasn't even looking at him anymore, focused entirely on his game.
Occasionally, the other boy made a vaguely frustrated 'tch' noise under his breath, leaning up against Blaine's headboard.
"While I'm ripping holes in the fabric of space itself, you feel like telling me what's got your buns in an uproar?" Kurt asked dryly after about ten minutes of gameplay, noting the slowing of Blaine's scouring and when it stopped entirely. "I don't think I've ever seen you quite like this."
Blaine stared at the ceiling and fought the initial urge to snap back if only because he knew (knew, curse it all!) that Kurt was not one to be intimidated and if he was, it would never be by him of all people. Karofsky, yes. Blaine Anderson? Not a chance in a frozen Hell.
"I'm just…today's really sucked. I thought I was prepared for my physics test and I only knew about half of what I needed to, and Warbler practice kind of blew and Wes got on me about it and I didn't sleep because I was up all night and that just kind of…made it all worse." The words tumbled out of him like a bag of marbles and Blaine chanced a look at Kurt's face. "And now I'm just…mad even though everything's over and done with."
The other boy wasn't looking sympathetic so much as he looked knowing.
"Trust me, boy, I know exactly where you're coming from. But right now, you don't need soft handling and eggshells. You need a distraction, and possibly a very large chocolate bar. Conveniently enough," Kurt trailed off just long enough to pause the game and rummage around in his bag, pulling out a ziplock baggie, "I just so happen to be able to provide all of those things. If you feel like not being a crankyface, I can totally share this frozen Snickers with you." He rattled the bag tantalizingly and Blaine gaped at him. He'd say it was an unflattering look, but honestly he found the shock kind of adorable.
"I kind of…sort of can't picture you eating candy bars. You always eat really healthy every time I see you."
Kurt popped a grin at him and shrugged.
"Got to make up for it somewhere. Everyone's got a weakness, I just happen to have more than most people." He rattled the bag again. "Snickers, Blaine. Chocolate, peanuts, caramel, all frozen and made wonderful inside the freezer part of my mini-fridge. All you've got to do is come over here and sit with me."
Aw, fuck it.
With a sigh still tinged with frustration, Blaine set down the cleaning solution and got out of his desk chair, finally making his way over to the bed to sit next to Kurt, who broke the candy in two and handed him the bigger half, those damned bright blue eyes of his completely unsurprised.
Freaking Kurt.
Freaking Kurt who was back to his game, and was now…cooing over a cube.
Not just any cube though. This was like… some kind of monster cube from the future. …With pink hearts.
"What does that thing do?" Blaine finally asked, some of his disgruntlement giving way to confusion, "Is it like…alive or something? Does it explode?"
Kurt just tilted his head and gave him side-eye bitchface.
"No, it doesn't explode. The Weighted Companion Cube is my friend. It loves me."
Blaine had heard some really strange things while being friends with Kurt. Really, really strange things, but being loved by a cube was not something that he was particularly prepared for.
"Umm…"
"No, seriously," Kurt insisted, making a large, sweeping gesture with the controller, "The whole point of the Cube is to make the player develop feelings of affection for it and then be forced to destroy it solely to break your heart."
Yeah, okay.
He can accept that. Who's he to judge anyway?
"…you don't believe me at all, do you?" he asked with narrowed eyes and Blaine raised a hand in surrender, choosing instead to take a bite of chocolate and caramel. "Oh, go to hell, GLaDOS," Kurt snarled at the screen, addressing the computerized voice that mercilessly taunted the main character. "I will smack you in your metaphysical vajayjay, don't even tempt me."
Yeah, definitely not the weirdest thing that Kurt's ever said in reference to a game.
"You want to try a stage?" Kurt asked suddenly, shaking the controller at Blaine, who immediately shook his head.
"No… I think I'll just watch and drown my day in chocolate."
The other boy shrugged.
"Well, okay then." Casting a sideways glance to his friend, Kurt subtly shifted to the side so his shoulder bumped Blaine's for just a brief second. As quickly as he did it, though, he pulled away and the focus returned, though he did admittedly keep half an eye on the boy next to him.
For a while, Blaine remained silent, settling for watching the boy who'd barged in on him and hadn't left even when everyone else had been repelled. He didn't know if it was the thick skin he'd built up from the abuse of his previous school or if he really did find it so easy to get inside Blaine's head, but he couldn't deny that the company was sweetening his temper just the slightest.
They weren't even doing anything, they weren't even really interacting and Kurt was so intent that Blaine thought that he could throw that cube at him and not sway him, but the urge to crush things was lessening nevertheless and he didn't really get it. Was it having someone around but not having to deal with them that was making him feel better? Was it the fact that it was Kurt?
Stubborn, unflappable, resourceful Kurt. Kurt who got so frustrated with being a Warbler that he routinely hit the gym at night to do what he wanted. Kurt, careful with his heart but loyal to the very end. Kurt who could get stared in the face by someone both bigger and meaner than he was and still come out fighting with everything he had, even if that meant bringing out claws instead of fists. Kurt, who refused to put himself last and change himself to suit what the rest of the world thought he ought to be.
And then there was Blaine, who often did the opposite.
"Hey. You okay? You're giving me weird looks."
Blaine jumped at the sudden voice and came face to face with Kurt giving him a questioning stare, the game paused and the controller turning over in his hands.
From the hallway, boisterous male voices could be heard, and if either of them really tried, they probably would have been able to pick some of them out. Blaine was the lead soloist of the most popular groups of people in the school after all, and Kurt, while not being particularly high on the Warbler totem pole was known for his humor, wit, and really fantastic baked goods by more people than he'd give himself credit for.
Kurt furrowed his brows and tilted his head.
"It's gonna sound stupid of me after I kind of forced my way in here and got up on my soapbox about your mood, but if you really, really don't want me here, this is still your space. You can kick me out of it."
Yeah, that was legitimate concern in his voice, not the brisk sort of bluster that he'd had since opening that door and despite the fact that he's not really in a good mood yet, Blaine couldn't control the instinctual impulse to immediately shake his head.
"No," the word was out before he could get a handle on his mouth, "No."
Kurt stilled for a moment, looking Blaine intently in the face. Suddenly, he scrambled to his feet, pressing the controller in the other boy's hands.
"Here, kick the shit out of GLaDOS via portal gun. I'll be right back."
And then Blaine's room was empty and he couldn't help but feel like it got a little colder once the door had shut.
Twenty minutes later, that door had opened again and Kurt returned to Blaine's room. Almost immediately, he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
"You know, I kind of thought Kurt was screwing with me when he went on about that cube. But it's actually kind of cute, in a weird, cube way…"
"Glad you think so," Kurt interjected with a smirk, feeling oddly flattered to be the recipient of so many of Blaine's gobsmacked stares today. "Think fast."
And then Blaine was hit in the head.
By…
Portal paused, and he picked up what he'd been bludgeoned with.
Vaguely cube-like, grey and futuristic, covered in little pink hearts. He squeezed it. It was plush and huggable.
Outright amused hazel eyes met blue, and when Kurt sat down this time, Blaine didn't even bother to fight the urge to sling an arm around his shoulders and draw him into a totally platonic, seriously half-hug. Right after smacking him right back on the head with the cube, of course.
"I am not even surprised anymore," he declared. "Do you sleep with it?"
"Maybe," Kurt replied haughtily, "I told you, it loves me."
Blaine snorted, and felt something loosen inside him when Kurt's bitchface turned into something soft and strangely subdued and a small smile curled at the edges of his lips.
"Of course it does. Give it back." Blaine had thrown away his pride the moment he'd visited Kurt's dorm for the first time and found him beating the daylights out of Mario, Solid Snake, and the Ice Climbers in Smash with Princess Peach while wearing a tiara of his own (because really, who could miss out on that kind of fun?) and it served him well just then. As he made grabby hands at Kurt, who smirked and held the cube as far away from his grasp as he could get.
"No way. You threw him."
"What? Bull, Kurt, you threw him first!"
"No, I tossed him. There is a difference."
That difference was irrelevant because Blaine made a grab for the cube but misjudged, sending him toppling over to half-smother Kurt into his comforter instead. He almost apologized and scrambled off but changed his mind when the taller boy began to bubble over with laughter, still holding the cube as far away as he could.
"Suck it, Anderson, longer arms win!" he gasped out and looked over just in time to see Wes standing in the doorway, looking as if he'd walked into the door instead of through it. The Asian boy closed his eyes and raised a hand to rub his temples and shook his head in a manner that dripped in oh my god I cannot even believe this.
Kurt smiled sheepishly and waved at him.
"Hi."
Wes walked out and closed the door.
After a little while of watching Blaine squirm, Kurt rolled his eyes and handed over the Companion Cube. The weight on his chest receded immediately and he settled for watching the other boy squish the plushie between his hands.
"You know Wes probably thinks I've corrupted you horribly, right?" Kurt asked conversationally, shoving his friend over to make enough room for him to flop onto his back. Blaine shrugged.
"Probably. But if this is what it means to be corrupted, I only wish it had happened sooner."
"So how was he? There wasn't blood spattered all over the walls, was there? No screaming or hitting? No exorcisms?"
"Um…. No. Last I saw, Blaine was all over him trying to get a stuffed cube. The thing had hearts, man. Hearts."
"Got a problem with hearts now?"
"…Go drown, David."
AN2: And there it is! Please review if you liked it, or if you hated it, or if you think I need to burn in a bonfire for writing crap like this. I graciously accept praise, criticism, and fruit baskets.