d i s c l a i m e r : i d o n o t o w n g l e e .
. . . . . .
"Thank you for tonight, Blaine. It was amazing." Kurt breathed, a little breathless after just pulling away from a not-so chaste kiss.
Blaine chuckled. "Only the best for you." He answered. A smile adorned his lips as he gazed lovingly at his boyfriends. The countertenor had a blush blooming on his pale cheeks and his hair was slightly tousled. Blaine grinned at the other boy's appearance and proceeded to run a finger on the other boy's lips.
Kurt closed his eyes at the sensation, relishing the soloist's touch. "That feels nice." he murmured. He started to hum a melody after a while; one that Blaine easily recognized.
The curly-haired boy started to sing softly.
You think I'm pretty,
without any make-up on
You think I'm finny,
when I tell the punch line wrong
I know you get me,
so I let my walls come down, down~
It wasn't long until Kurt joined in.
Let's go all the way tonight
no regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
you and I, we'll be young forever
Their voices weaved and became one, saturating the cold night air as the music seeped out of the car.
Let you put your hands on me
In my skintight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight
The song ended and the night was still once more. The two boys gazed at each other with loving eyes before connecting their lips gently. Instead of fireworks exploding, there was electricity coursing through their bodies. Instead of heat spurning them on, there was warmth spreading under their skin. Instead of a tentative connection, there was a sense of forever.
They pulled away, a little breathless. Both their lips were more kiss-swollen than before and the ambience surrounding them was thick with love.
"Let's go for a walk." Kurt suggested, looking at the starry sky outside. Blaine nodded and got out of the car in record time in order to open the door for the countertenor. He gestured dramatically, bowing his head as if to say 'your highness'. His actions earned him a delightful giggle from Kurt.
The night air was cold but neither boy was aware of it. The warmth they had just shared was still running through their veins.
~They held hands, as if afraid that if they let go, they would be separated forever.
The night air sung. The wind whistled its comfort and the crickets played their pieces.
~They heard their song in their minds, both completely in sync with the other.
The night air whispered its disapproval at their love; the manifestation in the form of homophobic men walking a block away.
~They felt at peace, thinking that nothing could ruin that moment.
Love and anger clashed after that one block separation disappeared.
"Well, look what we have here." A rough voice leered. Kurt and Blaine's attention was quickly redirected to the three men directly in front of them. The largest of them was bald, with a scar running on the side of his arms. The other two were only slightly bigger than Azimio and Karofsky, but without a doubt emanated the same malice as the first man,
"Fags, by the looks of it."
"You'd think them fairies know better than to be spreading their dust around."
"Fucking homos."
Kurt held on tighter to Blaine's hand. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying words he'd probably regret. These men were dangerous and it would be foolish to spit out words that would undoubtedly rile them up.
"Why don't you just walk away?" Blaine quipped, his voice calm and unwavering. The porcelain boy gawked at his boyfriend in surprise. He could not see any trace of fear in the soloist's eyes, but he could feel it in the way the other boy's hand was shaking. "Or we could. We don't want any trouble."
The bald man with a beer bottle in his hand smirked. "Of course, you don't. You're faggots."
"I reckon we teach 'em a lesson. You up for that, Red?" the other asked, taking out a switchblade.
"Sound goods. Snake. Let's start with the pale one."
. t h e . n i g h t . c a n . b e . d e a d l y .
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
"Kurt? You have to drink your medicine."
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
"You have to stop trying to call him."
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
The phone number is not in service.
"Please Kurt! He's gone. He's gone but you're alive. So can you live for him? We need you, Kurt. Please don't do this."
The phone number is not in ser—
. t h e . n i g h t . c a n . b e . d e a d l y .
The power lines went out…
…and I am all alone.
Blow the candles out…
…looks like a solo tonight,
Someday, you will wake up…
…with everything you gave me…
"I miss you Blaine."
. t h e . n i g h t . c a n . b e . d e a d l y .
"The bill has been approved! Same-sex marriage is now legal in New York City!"
Burt, Finn and Carole shared glances with one another, sad expressions painted on their faces.
"They wanted to get married in New York. A little far-off for two high school boys, but I could see it would come true." Burt whispered.
Finn bit his lip. "Kurt already prepared their promise rings. H—he was supposed to give it to Blaine on th—that night." His voice shook as he spoke.
Carole, on the other hand, remained silent. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wept for her abused step-son, for her third son who died, and for the love those two shared.
In the basement, the sound of the television streamed in muted volumes. It reached the ears of an angel curled up on a bed. Upon hearing the news, he held himself tighter together, arms clutching his sides tightly. A silver glint on his right hand was notable. It stood out against the myriad of bandages decorating his marred skin.
An exact replica of the ring the angel wore was inside a velvet box, hidden in his left hand.
. t h e . n i g h t . c a n . b e . d e a d l y .
Tonight I've fallen and I can't get up
I need your loving hands to come and pick me up
And every night I miss you
I can just look up
and know the stars are
holdin' you, holdin' you, holdin' you tonight~
The voice wavered as it lengthened the last note. Its owner was sporting a teary face with trembling lips. He stood in front of a gravestone with a bouquet of red tulips in his arms. He was biting his lip in an effort to keep his tears in bay but his efforts were wasted as the dam broke, letting out a waterfall of emotion.
Blaine Anderson
1994-2011
Son. Brother.
Lover.
. . . . . .
a / n
So yeah, I guess I've been killing Kurt too much so I decided to kill Blaine this time. Don't judge me. I am just BORN THIS WAY. *shrugs* I actually started and finished this at school. Sue me for not listening to my professors, go ahead, sue me.
The song title's from "I Don't Care if You're Contagious".
I made a Tumblr account! Whee! I got jealous because my sis had one so I decided to join in the fun! XD And it is fun! Follow me? Link's on my profile!
Review! Lest season 3 be delayed! MUAHAHAHA!
