So, I know, I changed it. It's not going to be a story-story because I don't have anywhere to GO with it. SO it's going to be a collection of One-shots and drabbles in my own little version of Dalton. I'm actually currently editing this chapter, so when I can I shall put up my edit. I understand if my previous readers are upset, but you have to understand; I had the middle, and cute little stories for after, but no beginning or end. So what better way to show you my plans than to do THIS!
I hope you still like it.
Thanks and my deep, deep apologies,
-Demyx.
Chapter 1: Cleaning
Monday...
Blaine Anderson is not a bad kid. He's never been a bad kid. He always gets straight A's, he's almost never tardy, and he hasn't missed a day of school in two years. So why is he up to his elbows in bleach, scrubbing the floor in the common showers? Simple; he was framed.
Okay, so maybe he had a little to do with the it. But he was mostly an innocent by-stander, who happened to be in the wrong place at the right time (because technically, being in the wrong place at the wrong time would only cancel itself out and vice versa). Besides, if there's anyone to blame, it's the actual culprits, not Blaine, who was merely dragged into the crime by five impassioned boys defending the pride of their side of the dorm. Who in their right mind would let one of their rival dorm's boys pour instant mashed potato packets in their garden's fountain (dyed red, might I add), and allow them get away with it. No one, that's who.
Pranks aren't really Blaine's thing (especially when caught), so he'd decided to let the other boys do the evil deed, but this is where the wrong-place-right-time issue comes in.
Honestly, if you don't know Blaine's best friend's like he does, one wouldn't even suspect them of such treachery. Wesley Hall and David Hart, both best firends even before Blaine had met them, are two of the three councilmembers for the Dalton Academy Warblers (Dalton's Glee Club) and have a sort of mock-innocent air about the most adult mistake as sincere. Of course, no other boarding boy at Dalton falls for their angelic facade anymore, but they occasionally rope a poor day student or two into what Blaine half-affectionately-half-irritatedly calls "Wavidventures". Wes and David are two-fifths of the reason Blaine was caught participating in the prank in the first place. Of course, the mashed potato plot had a major role in the end-decision but Blaine likes to ignore that fact in favor of his anger at his friends.
The dorm at Dalton (split into 3 sections for the staff's sanity's-sake) has been in an all-out prank war with itself since they split it in the first place. No one actually knows why the dorm started fighting between it's sections, just that the boys before them did it, and the boys before them and so on and so forth. Everyone is friends depite the pranks, but occasionally there can be some venom spewed after a prank gone too far.
Blaine, from his spot on the floor, takes a moment to look around at his fellow pranksters. Aaron Mathews, his gay best friend and room mate, scrubs away at the sinks, his pink tongue sticking out from between his pouted lips. Jared Prewett, along with Blaine himself are kneeling on opposite sides of the spacious room working at the tiles. Wes and David are being aided by Flint Webber, Blaine and Aaron's next-dorm neighbor. He'd been assisting Aaron previously, but then the other boy insisted that Flint quit pestering him and help with the showers. This was all accompanied by a smile and a playful shove, but Flint still pouted and continued to shoot kicked puppy looks at Aaron until he caved and, with an eye-roll, tackled Flint to the wall of the shower with a hug.
"Blaine, we've still got another hour to go, keep working." He can tell Aaron is smiling even before his hazel gaze meets the sparkling cerulean. The time in between their eyes meeting is long enough for Aaron to toss his sponge at Blaine's head, but short enough for Blaine to catch it.
Without missing a beat, Blaine tosses the pink projectile back, delighting in the panicked look as the wet material smacks Aaron's chest.
"There will be no violence, children." David points threateningly between the two room mates and Wes accents the warning with an accusing glare.
"Are we working or talking?" Jared snaps, grimacing for the umpteenth time at the blue and white tiles. Blaine gives the boy a reassuring smile that goes unreturned.
Wes smirks at Blaine. He winks before using his yellow sponge to continue his war against soap scum. Aaron, on the other hand, excuses himself sulkily to get another shirt. Blaine feels a tiny stab of sympathy, but it's fleeting; Aaron should know better, he knew Blaine played a number of sports and had developed great reflexes.
After a few more minutes of scrubbing in silence, David gives a loud, "Ahem."
All eyes are drawn to the dark-skinned boy as he balances his orange sponge on the shower-head he'd been cleaning.
"I have a good idea." He announces.
"Whassat?" Flint asks, puffing his cheeks out and wiping his usually straight ashy-blonde hair out of his eyes. The fact that the ends are starting to curl from his sweat only further confirmed Blaine's suspicions of the boy using a straightner.
"We could practice our set list while we clean, making this not only more productive, but add a little fun. What do you say?" Blaine could almost picture David saying this while pushing a really dorky pair of large, square, black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Almost.
Wes grins proudly at his best friend, nodding enthusiastically. He's always more than happy to get in some extra practice.
Flint shrugs noncommitedly, Aaron smirks, and Jared just nods sullenly. Heads turn to Blaine then, and he shakes his head exasperatedly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Mistaken for a 'no,' Blaine quickly stands and hums the first few bars of "Hey Soul Sister."
Aaron's responding smile is blinding.
Flint and Aaron begin singing the "hey's" and Jared and David start the ukelele part. Wes plays conductor with a toilet brush, singing both parts on and off, motioning for Blaine to start singing lead when it's time.
"Your lip-stick stains, on the front lobe of my left-side brains. I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind," Blaine sings, spinning in place and beaming happily. David and Flint are swaying to the beat, Aaron dropped his cleaning supplies to do what Warbler Holden deems the "Dalton Shuffle," and Jared joins Aaron, using his foot to continue to scrub with his red sponge.
"Your sweet moonbeam. The smell of you in every single dream I dream. I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided, who's one of my kind." Blaine points to Aaron and motions for the boy to join him as he stands. He obliges and they "shuffle" side by side to the chorus.
Blaine nods to Aaron who takes up his vocals for the end of the chorus while everyone continues to dance.
"Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do-o. Tonight." He sings, mimicking Blaine's deeper tone. The boys laugh at him and Blaine takes up the second verse with renewed fervor.
"Just in ti-ime, I'm so glad you have a one-track mind like me. You gave my life direction, a game show love connection, we can't deny~y!" Blaine freezes, putting his hands up and making pushing motions at his shoulders, palms out. He's sure he looks stupid (If Flint's laughing hadn't been a great indicator), but he finds that he doesn't really care anymore. This is fun, and who is he to deny himself (and his friends) the simple pleasure of acting a fool? Blaine does it on stage all the time (David would argue that it's a daily occurence).
They sing to the chorus, where Wes motions for Flint take up the lead until Blaine picks up the bridge.
"The way you can cut a rug, watching you is the only drug I need. So gangsta I'm so thug," Blaine goes cross-eyed, grabbing his crotch and grinning idiotically,"you're the only one I'm dreamin' of, you see. I can be myself now finally, in fact there's nothing I can't be. I want the world to see you be, with me."
Aaron erupts into giggles at his friend's gesture so he can no longer sing. He returns to dancing with Jared, though rather clumsily.
Flint starts the chorus again, and the boys exchange looks. Looks that say they all know they'll be looking forward to these two hours of "punishment" for the rest of the two weeks they're stuck cleaning a bathroom together. Jared, though usually mildly humor-less, is beaming like he just won a Nobel prize and singing as loudly as possible, and Blaine can tell just how much this means to all of them. Taking a crappy situation and making it fantastic is something Dalton boys seem to accel at, though Wes and David would disagree in favor of claiming all the glory for their side of the dorm.
Blaine leads through the last chorus, holding the last note a little longer than necessary. Aaron falls to his knee's he's laughing so hard, Wes is giving proud nods to everyone else, and Flint is bowing, while Blaine blows kisses to David and Jared, who are pretending to throw roses.
Slow clapping sounds from the hall, and Aaron stops mid-snicker. Mr. Adam Avery, the Dean, is standing in the doorway, watching the boys with an disapprovingly-approving smile.
"Well well, slacking are we?" He says. His graying hair and mustache shine in the flourescent lights of the bathroom.
Wes' smile falters as he laughs dryly. Blaine didn't know he could pale so suddenly. He and David exchange a look that leaves their friend guessing they hadn't intended for the group to completely stop working.
Aaron gets up quickly, blush clear on his cheeks. Jared coughs nervously and picks up his sponge. Flint just stands there awkwardly.
"Sorry, sir. We got a little carried away." The response comes from Wes, who's already started scrubbing vigorously at the shower-head again.
The Dean laughs, catching everyone off-guard.
"No, no, it's fine. I'm actually pleasantly surprised you were working at all. I mostly expected you to be sitting around, doing nothing."
Before Wes can say something, Mr. Avery puts his hand up, "However, I would appreciate it if next time, you continue to work while you sing. Kill two birds with one stone if you know what I mean."
A shocked silence greets his statement, but the Dean smiles like he expected nothing else.
"Go on boys, put your cleaning supplies back in the pantry and be off to bed. Your two hours are up." And with a miniscule nod, he leaves.
Wes won't shut up. Not that that's a surprise; Often during Warbler practice, David had to play the "Two minute rule," especially made for the Asian boy, simply meaning he could only rant so long as it took up less than two minutes of the practice time. He'd been going on and on about what song the boys should try next time, stressing the fact that it didn't have to be on the set list. He encourages his not-so-willing audience to pick a song to sing solo so they can each "exercise their vocals."
"Wes, I'm tired. Can we please go to bed now?" Aaron whines. He checks his watch and lets out a small groan. Jared check his own watch and lets out a similar noise of distress. Blaine peeks at Aarons and raises his endearingly triangular eyebrows in mild surprise.
Wes fixes Aaron with a glare, to which he simply puts on his best puppy dog pout and stares right back. This continues for a total of four minutes, until Wes finally caves and tells the congragation to think about what he said. The boys split into their respective groups to head to their dorms.
They exchange simple goodnights, except David and Wes, who insist on bombarding Blaine with a group hug. He makes a soft noise of minor refusal, but settles in for the wait. David pats Blaine's raven curls a few times and grins before releasing him first. He rolls his eyes at the other boy but attempts to squeeze David's shoulder. His endeavor is quite unsuccessful due to his arms still being pinned to his sides by Wes, but as soon as he's out of the embrace, he lightly punches his friends on their shoulders, a gentle smile on his lips. Wes and David repeat the process with each of the other boys, Jared only getting out of it when he sneezes as Wes opened his arms. Wes's nose wrinkled and he stepped a good distance back, nodding in favor of the hug he was about to initiate. David's reaction is similar.
Since Blaine and Aaron's room is next to Flint's, they take the stairs across from the bathroom while David and Jared follow Wes down the hall.
"What song are you thinking of doing?" Flint asks Aaron quietly, and they stop in front of Flint's door to whisper about their song choices while Blaine silently slips past them and into his shared room.
Blaine sends his dresser a look of utter contempt and decides to simply sleep in his dirty shirt and sweat pants. He glances down quickly, making sure he won't be getting bleach or any other offending cleaning agent onto his colored sheets before tumbling onto his bed. He slips his shoes off and falls asleep on top of the rumpled covers.
At six-forty in the morning, one would think that someone who'd only gotten five hours of sleep couldn't possibly be so happy in the mornings. Not Mr. Aaron Mathews. He wakes up energized and ready to greet the day.
Blaine would like to think he's somewhat of a morning person, as he wakes up early (Though it's mostly because he lives with Aaron) and doesn't usually need coffee to keep him moving, unlike David, who lives on the stuff. Wes usually drinks tea, but Blaine had once seen David shooting espresso shots like an alcoholic would whiskey.
"Wake up Blainey-bear!" Aaron sings loudly, dancing around his friend's bed until he opened both hazel eyes. Blaine peers at him from under still-heavy eyelids. Aaron simply grins, leaning over Blaine to prod his forehead with his finger. He's close enough, and his minty breath is strong enough to break through Blaine's senses and he realizes how much he needs to brush his teeth.
"Well hell~o sleepy head! Who do you want to start your day with? The Black Keys or Queen? 'Cause really, I'm feeling either! Mostly because I have some sort of mash-up of I Want It All and Ten-Cent Pistol stuck in my head which, if you think about it, makes no sense!" He chirps, hopping over to their shared iPod dock and flipping through Blaine's purple-skin-covered classic until he finds what he's looking for.
The Black Keys' Tighten' Up blasts through the speakers, and it's all Blaine can do not to groan.
Flint, though used to Aaron and his antics, bangs the wall Aaron's bed is in front of fiercly, yelling something at the top of his lungs. Neither boy can understand a shout he's spouting, but of course his message is clear. The wall on the opposite side (holding their large television) begins to shake as the room opposite Flint's occupant starts thumping on it as well. Blaine sighs.
"Turn it down, would you? Some people aren't as chipper as you in the mornings." He grumbles.
Aaron gives his signature giggle, shaking his hips to the beat and humming along. After following Blaine's command, he makes his way over to his closet (Yes, it's his closet. After realizing they'd be rooming together Blaine decided to give up the room for Aaron's massive clothing collections benefit. Not that he got to wear most of it, but it certainly didn't stop him from trying every single chance he got).
The music is now at an appropriate level, allowing Blaine's simpler brain functions to begin. He starts with blinking away some sleep from his eyes, rubbing mildly at them.
A small 'unf' has Blaine wondering what his roommate is doing. He looks up to find the other boy perched precariously close to the edge on their couch cushions, singing loudly into his violently orange hair brush and dancing with a pair of his pastel yellow boxers around his head. He's holding his blazer, waving it wildly and tossing Blaine what can only be his tie.
"Sick for days, in so many ways, i'm achin' now, i'm achin' now. It's times like these I need relief. Please show me how, show me how, to get right."
Blaine rolls his eyes at Aaron. Sure, he loves his roommate, but he could be really...gay sometimes. Not that Blaine took offense, after all, it's one of the reasons Blaine wanted to room with him in the first place. After his last school, he really wanted someone who wouldn't scowl at him for wanting to kiss boys rather than girls.
Blaine surfaces from his slightly depressing, nostalgic thoughts long enough to get out, "I'm going to go beg Flint to use his shower. Try to stay in here and not bug anyone else with your...just stay in here."
He grabs his own uniform and underwear, walking out of the door and closing it behind himself with a soft click.
The hallway is much brighter than his room, even though our curtains were open and the light was on before Aaron had woken Blaine up. He ignores it, squinting as he dashes down the stairs to grab a towel from the cabinet outside the common showers (being the swim team captain last year had earned Flint his own shower, though he wasn't anymore. The staff simply hadn't assigned him a different room because the new captain was in a different dorm and it was entirely too much trouble to move all of his things).
Blaine huffs his way back up the stairs to knock on Flint's door. The only response is a soft 'thunk' as something (a pillow is Blaine's guess) hits the door.
"Flint I need to use your shower. Now." He declares tiredly. He can still hear Aaron singing from the hallway. This time it's Howlin' For You, and the brunette is howling in puctuation of each chorus.
There's a shuffling, and then the door is being thrown open and Blaine is being tugged violently inside. A low growl sounds and he's shoved towards the bathroom.
"Quickly." Blaine's slightly offended at Flint's behavior. But he was rudely awakened by the volume of Aaron's music. It's no surprise he'd be a little peeved.
Blaine hurries into the shower, taking around ten minutes to be cleaned and fully dressed. His hair still needs to be slicked back, his usual unruly curls already forming (Warbler Ryder enjoyed calling it a jew-fro despite Blaine's obvious Fillipino roots).
"Thanks Flint. Sorry about Aaron. You know how he is." Blaine plasters a sleepy smile on his face and shrugs good-naturedly.
"I don't know how you put up with him every day." Flint shakes his head with an almost affectionate sigh. His milk chocolate eyes shine with the emotion and for some reason the first thing Blaine thinks of are M&M's.
Blaine feels his smile harden. "Sheer will," he answers.
Flint barks out a laugh and wishes his friend good luck dealing with his roommate.
Blaine laughs as he makes his way back into the obscenely bright hallway, shutting Flint's door and entering through his own. His eyes track movement to find that Aaron is skidding across the half of the floor thats hard-wood on his knees, from the bathroom to the couch, jumping on the arm and making air-guitar chords to Queen's Killer Queen.
"Ohh Ronnie." Blaine sighs, watching him for another minute before going to the bathroom to gel back his hair.
Aaron's voice echoes back to him from the open doorway. "She's a killer, que~en!" He sings, going a few notes too high and laughing when he misses the cue to the next few words. Another unexplained 'oof' and Blaine knows he's laughed himself off the couch.
"Careful Ronnie. No more concusions before breakfast."
"...right..." Is his breathless reply. He's still laughing.
So yeah, this is my edit. Again, I apologize if it's...well, not what you'd expected from the original (if you read it). I do have to say though, the 3rd person sounds SO MUCH BETTER. I have the tendency to put myself in when i'm writing in first person, and that's fine, when it's my characters. I could do it with Aaron fine (because...well he's partially based off of me...) and probably-maybe like, Flint or Jared. I could definitely do Wes and David because my twin and I (er, we're heterosexual life partners) ARE Wes and David. I even got her a Gavel for Christmas (MAGGIE IF YOU'RE READING THIS IT'S A LIE, I'M MAKING IT ALL UP).
Now that you're finished reading, I'll be honest with you, I work for reviews. I do this not only for my own demented benefit, but for yours. I would like to know my work is being appreciated, even if you just leave an anonymous review with two words that say, "Good Job!" At least I know what i'm doing isn't just a pointless waste of time.
Thank you and good night.
-The Menace
