As a member of the Skanks, Kurt Hummel was used to the assumptions people made about him. If it meant they'd leave him alone, he didn't give a fuck what people thought- even if more than half of the rumors weren't true. His favorite was that he'd once snorted cocaine off of Rachel Berry's ass during his brief engagement with the Glee Club back in his Sophomore year.
Despite what everyone thought, he wasn't into drugs. Or alcohol, for that matter- it was all for show. He wore his piercings like armor and carried around unlit cigarettes as if they could somehow act as weapons. The only one who knew the truth about him was their leader: Quinn Fabray. And because of that, he was at her mercy.
"There's a party this Friday at Puckerman's," she told him during lunch one day. "We're going."
"I can't," Kurt didn't dare to look up at her. "I've missed too many Friday night dinners this month, my dad will kill me."
"Seriously?" Quinn scoffed, sweeping her long skirt to the side as she knelt down next to him. "You can't ditch this one, I heard some of the Dalton Reform kids were going to make an appearance."
"I can't," he repeated. She rolled her eyes and held out her hand expectantly, so he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and fished one out for her.
"Can't you just tell your dad you have a- a study group or something?" Quinn asked as she dug through her bag for a lighter. Kurt let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his messily styled hair.
"I said that last time," he explained. "He's going to start wondering why my grades suck so much if I'm supposed to be studying all the time."
"So sneak out afterward," she told him after taking a drag off her cigarette.
"And get grounded for the next two months? Please," Kurt leaned back onto his elbows with a heavy sigh.
"Fine," Quinn sniffed petulantly. "I guess I'll take this into my own hands."
"Oh God, what are you going to do?"
"You'll see," she shot him a wink and brought her cigarette back to her lips.
…
Kurt was helping his dad do the dishes when the doorbell rang.
"I got it," Burt told him, dropping his plate back into the soapy water and drying his hands off before heading to answer the door.
"Hi Mr. Hummel!" Quinn's voice came from down the hall and Kurt stiffened. She wouldn't. "I was wondering if I could borrow Kurt for the night? We have a big project due next week and this is the only time I'm free to work on it."
He had to admit, she sounded believable. He held his breath as he waited for his dad's response.
"Yeah, alright," Burt sighed before raising his voice. "Hey, kid, get in here."
Kurt gently set down the cup he'd been drying for longer than necessary and hurried into the hallway, nearly doing a double take at Quinn's outfit of choice.
"Hey," he quirked an eyebrow at her when he joined them. Her smile tightened and he took that asdon't ask.
"Quinn says you've got some big project you gotta work on?" Burt asked, folding his arms over his chest. Kurt nodded and was about to open his mouth when Quinn jumped in.
"If you wouldn't mind, Mr. Hummel, it would make both of our lives much easier if Kurt slept over at my house," she beamed innocently, batting her eyelashes for good measure. The older man sighed but nodded anyway.
"Go pack a bag, I want you home by noon tomorrow."
"Thank you!" Kurt resisted the urge to throw his arms around his father, instead turning on his heel and all but racing to his room to shove clothes and toiletries into a bag. He was thankful he'd worn something at least somewhat party appropriate to school that day, seeing as Quinn would probably kill him if he took too long. After a quick check that his quiff was still intact (pink streaks proudly front and center), he hurried down the hall.
His dad was back in the kitchen when Kurt left his room, so he called out a goodbye over his shoulder as he and Quinn left arm in arm.
"Keep your phone on you!" Burt called and Kurt winced, knowing his dad likely suspected they wouldn't actually be doing any kind of homework.
"Okay!" He answered before letting the door slam shut behind them.
"Parents love me," Quinn preened as they walked to her car. Kurt rolled his eyes and climbed into the front seat with a familiar ease.
"Okay, for the love of God, what are you wearing?" he demanded after he buckled his seatbelt.
"I thought it might help our case if I didn't... look like me," she rolled her eyes a bit and pulled out of the driveway, much faster than necessary. "I've got my clothes in the trunk."
"So you decided that channeling your inner Rachel Berry was the way to go? Jesus, Quinn, where the hell did you find a kitten sweater on such short notice?"
"...don't ask questions you don't want answers to," she blushed, her gaze remaining pointedly on the road. Kurt had never seen her turn this pink before, so he filed away that bit for a later date.
They were several blocks away from Puckerman's house when Quinn pulled into an unfamiliar driveway and threw the car into park. She quickly undid her seat belt and hurried around to the back of the car, pulling a bag from the trunk before climbing into the backseat.
"See something you like, Hummel?" She teased when she noticed Kurt's gaze still locked on her. He rolled his eyes before turning away.
"You wish," he muttered, unable to hide his grin at her answering cackle.
They sat in silence as Quinn stripped down to her underwear and changed into more... appealing clothes. The layered skirts and crop top were a major improvement, especially combined with her signature combat boots.
Finally, she stuffed the kitten sweater and pencil skirt into the bag and shoved it under the passenger seat.
"Much better," Kurt told her as she made her way back up front. She shot him a glare as she checked her reflection in the rear view mirror, gently swiping at the eyeliner that had gotten smudged as she'd changed.
"Shut the fuck up, it worked," she retorted. He chuckled at her petulance and slouched in his seat as she backed out of the driveway.
...
Quinn was- somewhere. Kurt had lost track of her about fifteen minutes into the party, but she was a big girl; she could take care of herself.
He, on the other hand, was feeling mildly out of place as he watched the writhing mass of teenagers grind to the beat of the live music. The band wasn't half bad, he decided. And the lead singer definitely had a strong presence.
"Hummel!" Puckerman crowed too loudly, slinging an arm around his shoulders and nearly spilling his beer. "What's up, man? Enjoying the party?"
Kurt didn't get a chance to answer because there was a loud crashing sound a room over. Puck swore under his breath and sped toward the commotion, leaving Kurt to entertain himself again.
He returned his attention to the band, allowing himself to openly ogle the singer once more. He wore a leather jacket over a vaguely familiar concert t shirt and ripped jeans, his hair decorated with streaks of blue and white. Kurt approved already, but the cherry on top was that the guy was shamelessly sporting eye liner and a lip ring. Kurt very nearly swooned.
"A son of a- stepfather," the guy was practically fellating the microphone, sending bedroom eyes to everyone who was looking. "A son of a- I'm so sorry!"
Kurt was mesmerized by the passion the singer was putting into his performance.
"I'm so sorry!" He repeated, leaning heavily on the microphone stand and kicking a foot out in front of him. "I'm so sorry!"
Kurt sucked on a breath as the guys eyes popped back open and he shifted his gaze around the room once more, feeling a thrill go through him when their eyes met.
"I'm so sorry!" He belted one last time, practically flinging himself away from the microphone and doing some kind of what Kurt assumed was a signature dance move as the guitar player wrapped up the song.
"Alright!" Puckerman sauntered back into the room, holding an empty bottle above his head. "Let's make this interesting!"
Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing that it was time for him to disappear for a while. No one wanted to play spin the bottle with the gay kid. He moved toward the kitchen but Puck leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"Some of the Dalton boys have been eyeing you," he murmured. "You might want to stick around."
Puck winked at him before calling out that they'd be playing Seven Minutes in Heaven this time and gestured for everyone to get into a circle.
"Alright," he told the group after setting the bottle in the middle of the floor, "we have three available rooms to keep this from getting too boring. I'll go first."
He reached out and sent the bottle spinning until it landed on the unfamiliar face of what Kurt assumed was a Dalton boy. Whoops and hollers erupted all around and Puck held up his middle finger in response. The girl to his right went next and the bottle landed on the boy across from her.
Next was- oh. The singer from before grinned at no one in particular and spun the bottle until it stopped on... Kurt.
He felt himself stand without being fully aware of it and followed the others down the hall, ignoring Quinn's loud words of encouragement behind him. The pairs split off into separate rooms, the doors slamming shut nearly simultaneously. Kurt made his way over to the bed on wobbly legs, trying in vain to hide how nervous he was.
"My name's Blaine," the singer told him after an awkward moment of silence.
"Kurt," Kurt forced a smile.
"We don't, ah, have to... you know."
"Oh, did you not want to?" Kurt blinked at him, the hurt obvious on his face. Blaine ran a hand through his curls before speaking again.
"I mean, I'm not opposed," he seemed the choose his words carefully. "But you look like you're gonna puke, so..."
"I've never kissed anyone," Kurt told him. "Everyone thinks I'm this huge slut or whatever, but I- I don't know. No one's ever actually wanted me before."
"Somehow I doubt that's true," Blaine raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the bed. "You're the hottest guy here. Hottest I've ever seen, really."
"I'm- what?"
"Come on," Blaine sat next to him on the bed, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes. "You're like, ridiculously attractive."
"Oh."
"...yeah."
Kurt avoided Blaine's gaze and fiddled with his fingers.
"I'm not opposed either," he murmured. "You're not exactly hard to look at."
"Gee, thanks," Blaine rolled his eyes with a grin. "So... you want to, then? No pressure," he hurried to reassure him, sitting up to make eye contact.
"I... I guess."
"Excellent," Blaine's smile widened and he leaned in a bit. Kurt instinctively moved backward and out of the way, Blaine's lips landing on his chin as he nearly fell forward.
"Everything okay?" He asked, mildly amused.
"Have you ever been kissed?" Kurt blurted out, mentally kicking himself for ruining what could've been a moment.
"Not since middle school truth or dare," Blaine smiled ruefully.
"There's just a lot of pressure to get it right," Kurt admitted. "I always dreamt of the perfect scenario, and-"
"Let me guess, being locked in a room with a stranger wasn't part of that plan?"
"Bingo," Kurt sighed. "No offense."
"None taken. But hey, my first kiss was with a girl I'd never met and to this day I don't know her name."
"Wow."
"Things don't always go as planned," Blaine scooted closer. "But sometimes spontaneity leads to great things."
"I could use something great," Kurt smirked. "Besides, Quinn would kill me if I didn't give her some dirty details."
"Well, I don't know about dirty, but- mmph!"
Kurt cut him off with a gentle, chaste kiss, pulling back quickly and worrying his lip between his teeth.
"Was that okay?" He asked when he saw Blaine's dazed expression. Rather than answering, the singer leaned in again.
Kurt smiled into it at first but melted when Blaine's hand flew up to cup his neck. They stayed still for a moment before Kurt experimentally began moving his lips against Blaine's, causing the boy to scoot closer. They moved in sync against each other, both of them inhaling sharply when Blaine dared to lick his way into Kurt's mouth, the kiss turning deep and dirty.
Kurt barely recognized the sound that came out of his mouth when Blaine tangled his fingers in his hair; he knew it must've sounded animalistic, but he couldn't but a name to it. Blaine pulled him tighter against his chest and broke away to breathe, trailing kisses down his jaw to his neck and latching onto the skin just under his ear and sucking. Kurt whimpered and tossed his head to the side to give Blaine better access.
"This is an excellent turn of events," he breathed as Blaine sucked what felt like an impressive hickey into neck.
"You think?" Blaine murmured, pressing a gentle kiss onto the sensitive skin before pulling back to admire his work. "Damn, I'm good."
"Shut up and kiss me," Kurt rolled his eyes- a gesture he had a feeling would become second nature quite quickly if Blaine stuck around.
They kissed for what felt like both hours and only seconds before there was a knock at the door.
"Time's up!" An unfamiliar voice called, jiggling the doorknob aggressively. Blaine groaned into Kurt's mouth before pressing a last gentle kiss to his lips and pulling away.
"To be continued?" Blaine's voice was hoarse and Kurt felt a thrill go down his spine becausehe did that.
"Definitely," he squeaked, feeling his face flush what he was sure was a dark red. Blaine laughed before leading him out of the room and back to reality.
