Relationship: Klaine
Rating: T for this part, goes up to R
Warnings: swearing, mostly
Summary: Skank!Kurt AU in season 2/3. Cause everyone has to have one, right?
A/N - Hey! So I had this idea bouncing around in my head and finally wrote it out a couple of weeks ago. It's being updated on Tumblr a lot faster if you rather read it there. I'll update this as I have a chance to go back and edit the chapters. The rest of the chapters are much longer than this one. I think this will be about 10-15 parts total. The title is from Death Cab for Cutie's My Mirror Speaks. If anyone is interested in beta-ing this, send me a message on Tumblr and we can talk about it, and let me know what you think!
Six hundred and seventy-eight days to go.
Kurt Hummel repeated it like a mantra in his head as he stalked through his high school, ignoring the fearful whispers and unabashed stares. New year, same old shit. Six hundred and seventy-eight days until he graduated and could get the hell out of Lima, Ohio and away from the Neanderthals he calls his "classmates."
Six hundred and seventy-eight days.
He really hoped he could make it.
Everyone in McKinley High knows Kurt Hummel. A few remembered him as the small, pale, wimpy, gay kid from freshman year that got thrown into dumpsters and was treated to slushies every other day, though they would never admit it to his face. Some whispered about how he used to sing and likes boys, but only out of earshot. One word about Kurt's voice or sexuality meant pain and broken teeth. Jacob Ben Israel could attest to that fact. People feared Kurt now, and that was exactly how Kurt preferred it. Alone and safe.
He worked his ass off over summer, signing up for self-defense classes under his dad's nose and working out weekly at the gym. Kurt reinvented himself halfway through sophomore year, and when he beat the crap out of Azimio Stephens and Dave Karofsky one fateful afternoon, people quickly learned that this Hummel was not taking shit. His wardrobe gained more torn black jeans and studded leather jackets, his ears got more piercings, his tongue got sharper. He put pink streaks in his hair as a giant fuck you to the whole stupid homophobic town and he sure as fuck quit that loser glee club, no matter how much he missed singing. He was perfectly fine on his own.
His dad wasn't particularly a fan of the attitude or the cigs, but at least Kurt wasn't coming home in tears or covered in corn syrup. Sometimes Burt would just look at him, sad and regretful, and it always made Kurt's stomach twist with guilt. But his dad wouldn't understand why he had to change. No one would.
Kurt kept his expression carefully aloof and bored as he scowled his way through the mindless cattle in the hallways. With a disdainful glance at his schedule, he sighed and turned down the hallway with his locker. A thin arm slid around his waist.
"Hey, bitch," Kurt said without looking. A flash of pink hair was all he needed to know who it was. Not to mention she was one of the very few who could touch him on a regular basis. Scanning the locker numbers, Kurt stopped at his while Quinn leaned against the next one with her arms crossed.
"That is terrible for my self-esteem, asshole," she said, grinning sweetly as she watched Kurt wrestle with the lock. "My therapist would yell at you for hurting my feelings." Quinn smoothed down her black skirt, tugging the edgy ruffles into place.
Kurt cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at the pink haired girl and hit the locker twice until it popped open. He shoved in a few of his books roughly. "Your self esteem is perfectly fine," Kurt rolled his eyes.
"You're in a bad mood."
Kurt snorted. "Just don't wanna be here," Kurt muttered. He glanced at Quinn again. She was one of his best friends; especially after the year before when she got pregnant and the cheerleaders kicked her off the team.
Quinn went from being the most popular girl in school to a social pariah in less than a month. The only reason she even talked to him was because Kurt found her crying behind the bleachers in his spot one lunch period and offered her a cig. What actually cemented their friendship was when Kurt, at four in the morning, drove Quinn to the hospital after she went into labor and her mother was passed out drunk on the living room floor. He'd even let her cry on his bed for hours after she gave Beth up, broken and hurt and lost.
If anyone understood how badly Kurt needed to leave small-town Ohio and petty high school drama, it was Quinn.
She nodded at his answer. "Fuckin' preach," she muttered.
"Excuse me, hi!" a new voice interrupted, sounding way too bright and cheerful for the first day of school.
Kurt looked up and stared. The kid next to him was shorter than Kurt, with black hair slicked back with an entire bottle of gel and bright hazel eyes behind thick-framed glasses. He wore a black polo shirt, tight red pants that came to a stop above his ankles and a striped bow tie. A fucking bow tie.
"What?" Kurt slammed his locker shut and leaned against it, arms crossed and face schooled into his most intimidating fuck off look. The kid seemed immune though, and stuck out a hand with a bright grin while shifting his satchel on his shoulder. Quinn snickered behind him, but Kurt ignored her.
"Hi! I'm Blaine Anderson, I'm new here," he said, and shit, he had a nice voice. And he's cute. Kurt glanced at the hand and cocked an eyebrow.
"And?"
"Um…" Blaine faltered when Kurt just looked at him but smiled again. "Yeah, so I was wondering if you could help me? I'm not sure where my locker is or my classes and…" he trailed off sheepishly. Kurt blinked at him and grabbed the folded paper in Blaine's other hand, smoothly unfolding it and scanning Blaine's schedule.
"Your locker's down there," Kurt waved over his shoulder. "Couple down from mine. And your homeroom's in the next hallway. Look for the room with sombreros and a teacher with nearly as much gel as you in his hair." Blaine opened his mouth to say thinks but Kurt shoved the paper against his chest, pushing Blaine against the locker. "One more thing," Kurt smirked and leaned in close. Blaine's eyes grew wide and Kurt almost felt bad for this, but it had to be done. "Don't talk to me again, Anderson." Kurt's voice turned hard and he felt bad when Blaine flinched, but he stormed off before he could do something really stupid. Like kiss the dweeb.
Unfortunately, Quinn followed, laughing her ass off. "Shit, Hummel, I think you scared the poor guy," she patted his shoulder. Kurt shrugged her off, already digging in his jacket for a cigarette. It was going to be a long day.
Quinn glanced back. "Berry's got a hold of him," she commented, and Kurt tried not to visibly bristle. He hated Rachel Berry. The fucking loud dwarf. Who never shut up and loved to walk all over Kurt until Kurt had gotten fed up and verbally eviscerated her before quitting the Glee Club right before Regionals. They'd almost had to forfeit and Rachel still hadn't forgiven him. Not that Kurt really gave a fuck anyway.
"He looks kind of nervous, but she's dragging him away. Missed your chance, Hummel." Quinn reached up to ruffle his hair and Kurt pushed her hand away.
"They deserve each other," Kurt mumbled, trying not to sound jealous because he's not. "They can bond over raiding their grandparent's closets and singing old musicals and shit." Plus, Kurt didn't even know if the new kid was even gay and he hated stereotyping. He got enough of that from the rest of the world.
Unfortunately, Quinn saw right through his bullshit. "Got the hots for the new kid already?" Quinn asked with a quirk to her lips that made Kurt uneasy. She kept up easily with his quick strides, growling at a group of Cheerios that dared stare at her. The girls squeaked and bolted and Kurt saw Santana, the head cheerleader, roll her eyes at the younger ones.
"No," Kurt snapped. It felt like a lie for some reason. "He's going to get himself killed if he doesn't change his clothes." A bow tie, come on.
"And that would be a shame," Quinn drawled, winking at Kurt and spinning away from his swat. "We calling Puck after school to celebrate not killing anyone today?"
"Whatever."
"Hey, maybe we can invite Four Eyes! Get him all loosened up for you?" Quinn snickered. Kurt glared at her stonily and she flipped him off as she sauntered off to her first class.
Kurt watched her go, annoyed. This year was going to suck.
He strolled into his first period honors calculus class fifteen minutes late after taking a smoke break behind the cafeteria. He'd smoked through homeroom and still was on edge. Twenty-two eyes stared at him in shock when Kurt slammed open the door.
"Mr. Hummel, so glad you could join us," the teacher drawled in a bored tone.
"Oh, you know me," Kurt smirked. "Wouldn't want to disappoint you, Mr. Herreman. Otherwise, where else would you get the joy from writing your first detention slip of the year?" His fake enthusiasm got a few chuckles from the class. Mr. Herreman snorted and opened his desk drawer, grabbing a green slip and filling out the lines. Kurt shifted his satchel and crossed his arms, taking the time to inspect his classmates.
They were all in varying states of surprise. Like jeez, just because he looked like a young James Dean and enjoyed leather and dyed hair didn't mean he had the brains of a slug. He was proud of his grades and fuck all of them for judging him. They don't know him. In the front row, Rachel Berry glared at him for some reason and Kurt wasn't touching that with a ten foot pole. Her voice could shred eardrums.
But right behind her and next to the only empty seat of course, was him. Mouth slightly open in surprise and hazel eyes wide with something and hair still gelled to an inch of its life. Kurt groaned inwardly.
"Hummel." Mr. Herreman held out the slip with a disapproving glare. "Don't make this a habit."
Kurt took the paper with delicate fingers and winked. "We'll see, honey." He strutted down the row and collapsed into the desk next to Anderson's with a scowl. He didn't bother to take out a notebook or write anything down, preferring to half-listen to Mr. Herreman attempt to explain limits and draw all over the desk. Blaine, of course, was studiously copying every stupid word that came out of the teacher's mouth, biting on his lip as he concentrated. And it wasn't adorable at all, okay. Kurt let his head fall to the desk with a groan.
Something poked his side. Kurt turned his head and glared at Blaine, not fooled at all by that innocent look. Mr. Herreman was still talking and Kurt took the second he turned around to write something on the board to kick Anderson's ankle.
"Ow! I was just trying to get your attention, why did you have to take off my foot?!" Blaine hissed, rubbing at his bruised ankle. He looked so hurt and offended Kurt almost laughed.
"Thought I told you to leave me alone," Kurt shot back. He leaned back in his chair and dropped his boot-covered feet on the back of the chair in front of him. The girl turned and glared at him but Kurt just looked at her, unimpressed.
"I don't like ultimatums," Blaine said, and winked. Holy hell; please let him be gay. Thankfully, thankfully, that was when the bell rang and Kurt shot up and almost made it outside before he found his way blocked by Berry.
Kurt counted to ten in his head. Slowly. "What the hell do you want?" he said, probably with too much bite but whatever. Blaine stopped behind him and Kurt closed his eyes briefly in exasperation as Rachel just kept glaring. "Seriously? I'm not joining your damn glee club and I'm not talking to Hobbit Number Two either." Kurt gestured at Blaine, who looked affronted.
"Okay, look, I'm not that short—" Blaine started but was cut off by Rachel.
"Leave Blaine alone!" She stamped her foot. "Don't drag him down to your depths; you'll just ruin his life like you ruined yours!"
Kurt smirked. "Aw, are you still bitter about last year? About not being the best?" Kurt tutted and cocked his head in mock concern. "At least I don't have to wash slushies out of my hair every afternoon." Snorting at Rachel's gasp, Kurt looked her outfit up and down. "Although that might be a mercy for this particular creation, because, Rachel, honey, white tights and animal sweaters went out of fashion…always." He heard Blaine muffle a laugh behind him and smiled. "Anyway, I gotta go. Teachers to piss off, babies to terrify. Busy life, you know?" Kurt sidestepped her, laughing at her horrified expression and walked out.
He did catch Blaine's quiet "so is he gay?" to Rachel though, and smirked. This could be fun.
