A/N This is my first ever attempt at fanfiction, so it might not be great. Also, updates may not be very regular, as I have a lot of exams and the like. Also, the timings on this are probably going to be out. I've decided as it's my world, I'll make up when the competitions are. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy!

Kurt Hummel was definitely not what one would call 'average'. In fact, Mr Hummel was far from it. He had an eye for fashion that any designer would be in awe of, and a vocal range to rival even the most highly trained of Soprano's. But neither of these are the most astounding thing about him. No, that would be his uncanny capability to pick out the best in anyone and embrace it, bullies and allies alike. And so, when Kurt Hummel falls, he has a tendency to fall very quickly, and very, very hard.

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It was a cold, dark day in February; the sun still struggling to warm the Earth from behind the many layers of think, grey cloud that were polluting the sky. Kurt disliked winter. True, the fashion opportunities came in more abundance than in the summer, when everyone decided that wearing nothing was a lot more appealing than actually supporting any clothes, but that didn't take away from the fact that it was bitterly cold, and did nothing for his skin. Normally, Kurt would stay inside as much as possible during the winter months, but an emergency Glee Club meeting had been called, and Kurt would be damned if he gave Rachel Berry an excuse to come to his house and salivate over his step-brother under the pretence of 'filling him in'.

As this is why he found himself sat at a table in the Lima Bean on this gloomy day in February, surrounded by the people that he had come to call his friends. To his left was Tina Cohen-Chang, a beautiful Asian girl with a knack of finding the fashion trend of the season, and styling herself to the polar opposite. To her other side sat Mike Chang (of no relation), the club's resident male dancer, and Tina's long-term boyfriend. The two were currently whispering and giggling with one another, and Kurt couldn't help but find it sickeningly cute. Sam Evans was next, also laughing with his new found 'love', Quinn Fabray. (If Kurt's honest, it was only a matter of time. Quinn has a thing for footballers, and she'd already had both of the other Jocks at the table. Poor Sam didn't stand a chance.) Kurt's step-brother was to her other side, Finn Hudson, who was looking at the two with an expression Kurt couldn't quite place. Apparently, the feelings his brother once harboured for Miss Fabray hadn't disappeared as fully as he'd thought. Rachel Berry was next, sat with her ever-present 'Holier-than-thou' air, and was trying to engage Finn in conversation, to no avail. To her left was Noah Puckerman, 'Puck', who was currently busying himself by tearing his napkin to shreds and flicking it at the other Glee Clubbers. He aimed towards Kurt and looked up, only to be faced with a bitch stare to rival all others, causing him to pale slightly and flick the paper elsewhere. Santana Lopez was sat in silence, eyes downcast. Kurt found this unusual, especially as she would never normally pass up the opportunity to call Rachel out on her ridiculous sweaters, something Kurt found he had in common with the girl. Her best friend, and resident female dancer, Brittany Pearce was sat in her boyfriend's lap, and was presently in the process of removing his glasses from his face and trying them on. Her boyfriend was the ever optimistic Artie Abrams, wheelchair bound, but no less talented in the dancing department. To Kurt's right sat his best friend, Mercedes Jones, who had a voice like Whitney and a diva-personality to boot. They were a miss-matched bunch, and usually spent 99% of their time down each other's throats, but they all cared about each other in their own way, and Kurt had come to love every one of them, although he'd never admit it.
They'd been sat there for ten minutes when Kurt finally lost his patience.

'Rachel, will you please get to the point of why you've called us all here in this God-awful weather? Frankly, if I have to sit here staring at that ridiculous sweater of yours for longer than absolutely necessary, I am going to go to your house and burn your wardrobe.'

'God no, Hummel. The pollution that'd cause'd destroy the ozone all together.' Santana finally spoke up. The table laughed and fell silent, turning to Rachel, who was sat with an indignant look on her face.

'I am going to pretend I didn't hear those comments, because you are going to want to take them back when you hear what I have discovered.' She sang with a smile.

'Have the stores stopped making those monstrosities for anyone over the age of six?' Santana growled. 'Seriously, Motor-Mouth, why are we here? I got stuff I needs to do.'

'I have inside information on our competition, and a plan.'

The table groaned.

'Couldn't this have waited until we got back to school? Why ruin the week we have off by making us listen to you go on and on about how much more talented you are than some prep-school all-boys choir?'

'Oh Hummel, sounds like your idea of a dream world.' Santana bit.

Kurt rolled his eyes. That comment had been made every time the Dalton boys had been brought up. It was getting old.

'What's the news, Rachel?' He sighed.

'Well,' she began, 'as you know our main competition are the Dalton Academy Warblers. They are an all-boys choir, and whilst you may think this is a disadvantage, even I will admit their vocals are near perfect. Not as strong as ours, but very tight.' Santana sniggered, casting her eyes in Kurt's direction.

'That's we he said.' Called Puck from across the table.

'Yes, okay Noah. Also, their costume is the same every year, so we don't…'

'Will you get to the point please Rachel? Some of us have better things we could be doing right now.' Quinn spoke up.

'Yes, yes alright. Well, during my spying, I got some inside information on a certain lead singer of theirs, and this is where my plan comes in.' She grinned at Kurt, and his eyes widened in fear. A grin like that cannot mean anything good. 'Turns out, said lead singer is 100% single, and very much gay.'

'I don't know where you're headed with this Rachel Berry, but the answer is no.'

'Oh come on Kurt. Just go on a few little dates with him, what harm could it do?'

'What will you get out of this Rachel? If you think I'm going to go on dates with this guy just to get information for show choir you've got another thing coming.'

'But I've already planned one! You're meeting him here in twenty minutes! Just, please Kurt. We need to win this year.'

'You what? You planned a date between me and this guy I don't even know the name of without asking? You're unbelievable, Rachel.' Kurt yelled. Rachel thrust a photograph at him from across the table.

'His name is Blaine Anderson, he's a junior. Lead singer of the Dalton Academy Warblers, he also plays guitar, piano, violin, drums, and a few other instruments. He's achieving top grades in all of his classes bar French. His interests are…'

'Berry, stop. If Kurt's going to go on a date with this guy, surely it'd be weird him knowing everything about him when they haven't even met yet? Besides, you're starting to creep me out more than you normally do.' Mercedes interrupted. She stared at Kurt for a while and said, 'Wow, looks like you broke him. Good work.'

Kurt couldn't find the words to reply. He was still staring down at the picture of the boy, Blaine, he corrected himself. The first thing he noticed was that the boy was wearing so much gel in his hair it looked like he'd just been swimming, the uniform was remarkably unflattering and the boys eyebrows were ridiculous, yet somehow worked for him. The thing that caught his eye, however, was his smile. He just seemed… Genuine, even in a photograph. He saw the creases around his eyes, and wondered what that smile would look like in person. Blaine Anderson was beautiful. And far too good for Kurt.

'Rachel he is going to take one look at me, laugh, and then leave.'

'No he won't. Grow some balls Hummel, you're pretty hot, even for a twink, and if you were straight I'd have tapped that by now.' Santana shot at him, taking him aback slightly. He smiled in thanks at her. In her own way, that was a compliment.

'And you're a really good kisser. You're lips are soft. Not like Lord Tubbington's.'

'Um.. Thanks Brit.'

'What's the worst that could happen? Come on Kurt, just one measly little date, and if it's that bad you don't have to go on another, okay? Do it for us.' Rachel pleaded.

'That last part did not help your case at all.' A silence fell upon the table, all eyes on Kurt.

'Fine. One date, just to shut you up. Now shouldn't you all leave? How long until he… until Blaine arrives?'

'He's just walked in. Go get him Kurt.' Rachel added with a wink.

'Be safe, Hummel.' Santana smirked.

The others left with murmurs of 'good luck', or, 'I'm sorry'. Mercedes was the last to leave, turning to him before she stood to say, 'Call me when you get home, Boo. Do this for yourself, not for Berry. Now go get him, the poor puppy looks lost.' She pressed a kiss to his cheek and ran to catch up with the others. As she passed him, she tapped Blaine on the shoulder and gestured in Kurt's direction. He thanked her with a smile and started on his way over.

Well, Kurt thought, here goes nothing.