Notes: I'll be taking part in Summer Klaine Week 2013 (klaineweek13 on Tumblr, if you're interested in reading more) and I hope you guys are having fun in this awful heat! Unlike last time, I won't be publishing all my submisessions under one title ('Instructions for Dancing') because I'm only writing for the first four days - if you're interested in fanart, mixes or vids, head over to my Tumblr or Livejournal and check them out there on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Links are on my profile. :)
Title is from 'Creative' by Leon Jackson.
"Come on, I'll buy you lunch."
Blaine keeps his hand on Kurt's back as they walk down the stairs, hoping to provide the comfort his words and actions have failed to do, but Kurt stays tense and tall, and then there are too many people and potential abusers around to be touching Kurt at all.
"We have to stay on campus," Kurt says, leading the way into the building. "Only seniors are allowed off at lunch."
"That's not a problem," Blaine assures him. He hopes his smile doesn't betray how much his insides are shaking.
"It will be when you see the selection this cesspool offers," Kurt scoffs, and something about it eases Blaine's nerves.
When they enter the cafeteria, Blaine ignores the people looking at him, but he can still feel their stares piercing his skin like barbed arrows. He asks for recommendations ("Stay away from the casserole anything you can't immediately identify by both sight and smell.") and talks about what Dalton's cafeteria is like ("A lot of it is fast food, and the noise level is about the same. Dalton isn't always successful into making teenage boys into gentlemen and food and girls are two things bound to undo all the school's hard work."). He insists on paying for their food, even though Kurt tries to insist that this food isn't worth the money spent on it, and smiles as charmingly as he can when he says, "Then I owe you a real lunch. Deal?"
Kurt doesn't smile, but he does blush, and there's something about his features which seem a little lighter. "Deal," he says quietly.
They sit at the end of one of the long benches, Blaine allowing Kurt to take the side with his back to the wall even though his instincts are screaming at him for turning his back to possible dangers, and chat idly about – anything, really. Blaine tries to think of the most outrageous, funniest stories he can tell, even though those are few and far between; but that hardly seems to matter when Kurt has stories straight from Wonderland, and anyway, Blaine's disbelief seems to cheer Kurt up the longer it goes on.
The conversation drifts until Blaine forgets about his Dalton blazer and the stares stabbing into his skin and even the less-than-mediocre quality of food on his tray. Musicals, LGBT* politics, Broadway, red carpet outfits: all things Blaine has almost forgotten he could talk about because, amazing as they are and have been, his only friends are all straight guys almost entirely unaware of their privilege. It's only when the bell rings for the end of lunch that Blaine comes back to his Dalton image.
"I'll walk you out," Kurt offers. Blaine smiles at him and accepts and doesn't take offence at how Kurt has closed himself off again.
At Blaine's car, Blaine hesitates, but then he invites Kurt for coffee the next day, and Kurt accepts eagerly, and Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand for just a second, and then he's in his car and Kurt is watching him drive away.
Blaine gets detention for skipping school. When they meet the next day, Blaine doesn't tell Kurt.
It's a week and three coffee dates (but not that kind of date) later, Blaine finally says, "I'm so sorry, Kurt."
Kurt looks startled. "For what?"
"For what happened with Karofsky." He drops his eyes to the lid of his coffee – a drip loaded with sugar and milk and cream while Kurt's attention is elsewhere – even though the gentlemanly, sincere thing to do would be to keep looking Kurt in his bright, clear eyes. "I told you to stand up to him and you did and . . ."
"Blaine." Kurt touches his fingers to the back of Blaine's hand. It's quick and barely there but it's the first time Kurt has initiated physical contact, in public or private, and Blaine can't help but look up. And Kurt is smiling, tiny but reassuring. "If I didn't want to confront him, I wouldn't have. I promise."
Blaine tightens his grip around his coffee cup. "You can't say I didn't put the idea in your head, though." Honestly, he's not sure why Kurt accepted his offer to publicly confront Karofsky in the first place. Kurt should hate him.
"It was good advice in theory," Kurt says quietly. And then he smiles a bit larger, one corner of his mouth creating a dimple. "Obviously, the result isn't the most desired, but you've helped so much. I feel like . . . like everything's not so hopeless anymore. I'm terrified every day to go into school but I still feel like I have courage."
Blaine feels like he should say something, but all he can do is gape, mouth and eyes wide and heart thumping erratically in his chest, and hard enough to dislodge the lingering guilt. Kurt kindly moves the conversation on but Blaine is still stuck on you helped so much and everything's not so hopeless and courage. It reverberates around his thoughts even after he checks back into the conversation; while he's doing his homework; when he's hanging out with his friends; when he texts and calls Kurt; when he's lying in bed at night and staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because of courage and Kurt's small, sure smile.
Can I have a picture of you? he texts Kurt one day after telling him about a second ticket to RENT he happens to have. You're the only friend I don't have on my corkboard.
Only if I can have one of you, Kurt texts back, and Blaine responds with an, Of course, even though he's panicking a little because the only pictures he can think of of himself are really goofy or he's wearing an outfit nowhere near to Kurt's standards.
Kurt picks Blaine up since he lives on the way to the Community Playhouse. He's holding the picture in his hand – himself and his dad, apparently taken over the summer when Kurt, his dad, his dad's girlfriend and his dad's girlfriend's son went to one of the lakes for the day to bond – when Blaine opens the door, offering it out like a rose on a first date, so Blaine invites him in while he sticks it to his corkboard, not in the centre where Blaine pins important stuff, but along the top.
"I didn't know you liked photography," Kurt says, resting his hand in front of an old polaroid on Blaine's camera shelf.
Blaine shrugs. "I like creative things – music, photography, writing, arts and crafts . . ." He turns around to take his own picture to Kurt out of his desk drawer. It's not his favourite picture of himself by far – no one really likes their school pictures, after all – but it's the only one he owns in which he looks cool and confident and, he thinks, older and wiser than he really is.
"Speaking of arts and crafts," Kurt says from directly behind him. Blaine jumps, not realising Kurt had moved, and then follows Kurt's gaze to the collage on Blaine's desk, the word 'courage' in letters cut out of old magazines Blaine found lying around. He blushes heavily. "What's this?"
"It's, uh, it's kinda dumb," he says, trying not to stumble over his words too much. "You said about having courage and I know it's hard to remember that sometimes, so, I made it for, um, you. You don't have to take it, of course, like I said, it's silly, but . . ." He trails off and smiles awkwardly.
But then Kurt says his name and it's almost reverent, and he's smiling that large, bright smile again which lights up his face, and somehow it makes Blaine blush harder even though his embarrassment lessens. "No one's ever done something like this for me before," he says. It makes Blaine's heart ache because Kurt is special and kind and deserves only the very best things.
He would say so, too, but Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, and Blaine's hands come up automatically to hold Kurt's waist. He tucks his chin over Kurt's shoulder and realises for the first time that Kurt is an inch taller than him.
"Thank you," Kurt says when they've pulled apart and Blaine's arms are cold and empty. Blaine ducks his head and smiles, and then leads Kurt back out to the car.
The next morning before first period, Blaine's phone vibrates with a message from Kurt. It's a picture of Blaine's photograph, now in a frame, and the collage on the inside of Kurt's locker, and an accompanying caption: Courage. Blaine doesn't even try to dampen his smile, and his insides wriggle happily, and he walks through the corridors with a brand new bounce in his step.
End notes: I saw a theory (or should I call it meta?) on Tumblr that Blaine is really into arts and crafty type things (scrapbooks, photography, embroidery, origami), and since then the idea that Blaine made Kurt the courage collage (as well as his school photo) has been percolating in my brain. And when I saw the theme for Day 1 of this Klaine Week (season 2 flashback), I couldn't resist finally writing it.