Misery, a glee fanfic

A/N: This story was written for a friend's 16th birthday present. And because she's only 16, we refused to introduce her to smut. Not that I can write smut. Therefore, I present you, Klaine fluff!

Disclaimer: I only own Flint and Maria. Kurt, Blaine and the various song lyrics are not mine. I'm not that awesome.

Misery

"Mercedes, I'm fine," Kurt repeated with a sigh, reassuring his best friend again that he was indeed fine. Sure, he was in love with a guy – who was gay this time, which was already an improvement – who was in love with someone else. No big deal.

"You sure, Kurt?"

I swear…"Ask me that one more time and I will explode," he told her.

She winced – not that he could see, considering he was in Dalton and she was back in McKinley. "Okay. Well, you know I'm always just a phone call away if you ever need to talk."

Kurt smiled. "I know, Mercedes. Thank you."

"Oh, Mr. Schue just came in. I'm gonna hang up now, alright? Take care, Kurt! And don't forget movie night's tomorrow!"

"I won't. See you tomorrow!"

And Kurt hung up, slipping his cell phone back into the pocket of his blazer. With another sigh, he continued on his way to the choir room, hoping to use the little bit of free time he had before Warbler practice on a rendition of I'm Not That Girl from Wicked.

But it seemed someone had a similar idea.

He stopped outside the chorus room, listening to the piano belt out a familiar tune. It took Kurt a moment to place it as Maroon 5's Misery. It wasn't really his type of song, but he enjoyed the ballad-y spin on it.

The piano player suddenly banged on the keys, startling Kurt, who frowned, peeking into the choir room from the little window on the door.

Someone with familiar black curls was sitting at the piano, and from his profile Kurt thought it might be Blaine, except Blaine was hardly ever seen without his blazer, and said blazer was currently lying haphazardly on top of the piano, and the sleeves of the crisp white shirt were rolled up as well. All very uncharacteristic of Blaine.

The piano player took a deep breath and began the song from the beginning, giving it a more upbeat tempo. Kurt pushed open the door quietly, slipping into the room to hear better. He stayed by the door, listening as the boy began to sing.

So scared of breaking it that you won't let it bend

And I wrote two hundred letters I will never send

Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem

You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them be

So let me be

And I'll set you free

Kurt smiled, immediately recognising the voice as Blaine's.

I am in misery

There ain't nobody who can comfort me

Why won't you answer me?

The silence is slowly killing me

Girl, you really got me bad

You really got me bad

Now I'm gonna get you back

I'm gonna get you back

Kurt was a little confused. Why was Blaine singing Misery, of all songs?

Your salty skin and how it mixes in with mine

The way it feels to be completely intertwined

Not that I didn't care, it's that I didn't know

It's not what I didn't feel, it's what I didn't show

So let me be

And I'll set you free

I am in misery

There ain't nobody who can comfort me

Why won't you answer me?

The silence is slowly killing me

Girl, you really got me bad

You really got me bad

And now I'm gonna get you back

I'm gonna get you back

Kurt frowned. Had Blaine and Flint gotten into some sort of argument?

You say your faith is shaken

And you may be mistaken

You keep me wide awake and waiting for the sun

I'm desperate and confused

So far away from you

I'm getting there, I don't care where I have to roam

Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?

Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?

Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?

Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?

I am in misery

There ain't nobody who can comfort me, oh yeah

Why won't you answer me?

The silence is slowly killing me

Girl, you really got me bad

You really got me bad

Now I'm gonna get you back

I'm gonna get you back

Blaine trailed off with a sigh. He let his elbows rest on the piano keys with a rather unpleasant noise, rubbing his face.

"Not bad," Kurt finally said, breaking the silence.

Blaine raised his head, startled, and turned to look at Kurt. He broke into a slow smile as Kurt noticed how exhausted he looked. "Kurt, hey. How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," Kurt answered. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Blaine replied, his smile widening. He moved his bag to the floor, moving on the piano seat to make space for Kurt.

Trying to still his racing heart, Kurt sat down next to Blaine, setting his bag carefully down on the floor. "I didn't know you played the piano."

"What can I say, I'm a man of many talents," Blaine said with a little laugh. "Do you play?" he asked, watching as Kurt passed his fingers lightly over the keys.

"A little," Kurt replied, withdrawing his hands from the piano self-consciously. "Not really. I mean, I haven't played in a really long time."

Blaine nodded, and the two fell lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence, broken only by the simple melody Blaine played. Kurt fleetingly noticed that the older boy had fairly long fingers.

"That was an interesting choice of song, earlier on," Kurt told him.

Blaine cracked a little smile. "Yeah…"

"Is everything alright?" Kurt asked, looking at Blaine questioningly.

Blaine hesitated. The piano playing stopped. Blaine's fingers lingered on the keys silently.

"Something happened between you and Flint, didn't it?" Kurt pressed on.

Blaine bit his lip, and Kurt looked away, letting Blaine have a moment to debate on whether he should tell Kurt what was on his mind.

Finally, Blaine sighed. "We had a little fight."

Kurt looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't really…know…I mean…I wanted to know where we were, you know? And Flint…"

"You were in two different places?" Kurt tried.

"Something like that."

Kurt nodded. "Then what happened?"

Blaine shook his head. "He's not answering my texts or my calls, he's not in his room…I haven't heard from him in two days."

"Well, at least he's gotta show up for practice later, right?"

"Practice," Blaine groaned. "Won't that be fun."

Kurt patted his arm sympathetically. "You'll get through it. Both of you will."

Blaine smiled gratefully at Kurt. "Thanks."

Kurt smiled back, feeling his heart flutter. (Or was that his stomach?)

"What's going on?"

Blaine and Kurt turned to the door, where Flint Wilson stood, his bag on one shoulder, his green eyes staring at the two of them. Blaine rose.

"Flint. Where've you been? I've been trying to call you for the past two days."

"I've been busy," Flint said with a shrug. His eyes flickered from Blaine to Kurt and back to Blaine. "And clearly so have you."

Uh-oh. Kurt stood up. "I have to…go feed Pavarotti," he said, scooping up his bag. "I'll see you guys later." And he scurried out of the room, avoiding Flint's gaze, leaving Blaine and Flint on their own.

When the door was closed, Flint stared at Blaine a moment longer, before turning away to sit on one of the chairs on the left side of the room. Putting his hands around the back of his head, he stretched his legs out, looking at Blaine.

"Nothing happened between me and Kurt, alright?" Blaine told him.

Flint shrugged. "I didn't say anything."

Blaine gritted his teeth, getting more and more frustrated. "Dammit, Flint, what is wrong with you? I ask you about us, and you ignore me for two whole days without even giving me a decent answer."

Flint rose, crossing the distance between him and Blaine in a few strides. (Unlike Blaine, he was blessed with abnormally long legs.) He put his hands on either side of Blaine's face. "I like where we are, Blaine. We've got a good thing going, can't we just let it be?"

Blaine moved away. "No, Flint, I can't."

"What are you saying?" Flint asked softly.

Blaine shook his head, turning to look at Flint. "I don't know," he finally said. "I don't know."

"You're pitchy, Blaine," Maria Morrison sighed. "Again."

Blaine gritted his teeth, nodding. "I'm sorry, Ms Morrison."

The Warblers' coach studied him for a moment before shaking her head. "From the top. On three."

Kurt frowned slightly as Clay Hamilton began the opening chords to Hotel California on the piano, watching Blaine prep himself as the rest of the Warblers stood behind him, harmonizing along with the piano. Blaine was known for his usually flawless vocals, but he was off his game today.

On a dark desert highway

Cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas

Rising up through the air

Blaine sang, and this time there was a little improvement. Except his voice was unsteady.

Up ahead in the distance

I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night

Maria held up her hand, and the choir room lapsed into silence. All around Kurt, the Warblers fidgeted, tired of standing and singing for the past two hours, wondering what had come over their lead soloist today. They hadn't even started on their choreography yet.

"Blaine," Maria began.

"I know," he interrupted. "I'm pitchy. Again. I'm sorry. Let's…let's start again. I'll get it this time, I promise. Hit it, Clay."

"Actually," Maria said, glancing at Clay and holding up a finger to tell him not to start up the music yet, "why don't we call it a night, alright?" She glanced at her watch. "You boys must be hungry, anyway. I'll see you guys tomorrow." She looked at Blaine, holding his gaze meaningfully for a moment.

Blaine's jaw tightened, and as the Warblers broke their formation, each heading for their bags, magically regaining their voices and filling the choir room with the sound of their chatter, he joined Maria near the piano.

Kurt took his time, pretending to study his organizer for the homework he had due the next day, surreptitiously glancing at Maria and Blaine.

"Kurt, you coming?" David's voice broke Kurt's reverie, and the younger boy tried to hide his annoyance as he turned to David.

"What? Oh, uh, I'll pass tonight. I've got a lot of work to catch up on," he replied, holding up his organizer and shrugging.

"Alright, see ya."

One by one the Warblers filed out, leaving Kurt alone with Blaine and Maria. Kurt tried to catch their conversation, which had apparently drawn to a close.

"Thanks, Maria," Blaine was saying.

"No problem, Blaine. Try to keep these things outside of the choir room next time, though, alright?"

"I will," he nodded, turning away from her.

Maria took her bag and her folders from the top of the piano and left the choir room, calling out a goodnight to the boys as Blaine wandered to Kurt.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked, smiling at Kurt with a raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't waiting for you, if that's what you're implying," Kurt said quickly, earning himself an amused laugh from Blaine. Kurt blushed as Blaine cast him an I-know-what-you're-up-to-but-I'll-pretend-that-I-don't look. "Are you joining the others for dinner tonight?"

Blaine thought about it as he carefully put his folder of sheet music into his bag, unaware that Kurt was sneaking looks at him, trying to decipher his expression. "I don't think so," he finally said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "I think I'm gonna…practice…"

"Would you like a listening ear?" Kurt blurted out, immediately wondering what in the name of Marc Jacobs he had just said.

Clearly Blaine was wondering the same thing.

"You know," Kurt quickly explained, "to see if you're pitch-perfect and all."

Blaine smiled. "You're just looking for a reason to spend time with me, aren't you?" he teased.

"Guilty as charged," Kurt said light-heartedly, trying to laugh it off.

"I'd love the company," Blaine told him, glancing back at Kurt as he led the way out. "Don't forget to turn off the lights."

Kurt did so, closing the choir room door behind him. "So what happened with you and Flint?"

Blaine's smile faded a little. "I wondered when you'd ask."

Kurt shrugged. "It's an awkward topic to bring up."

"We broke up," Blaine said bluntly.

Kurt winced. "Ouch. What happened? If you don't mind me asking," he added quickly.

Blaine was silent for a moment. "Like you said, we…we were in two different places."

Kurt nodded. "I'm sorry."

Blaine shrugged. "What are you gonna do, right?" he asked with a little smile, looking down.

The boys walked in silence for a while.

"So," Kurt finally said, "can you believe we're doing Hotel California for Regionals?"

"Okay, okay, what about this one?" Blaine asked.

This thing called love, I just can't handle it

This thing called love, I must get round to it

"I ain't ready, crazy little thing called love!" Kurt sang along, and both boys dissolved into laughter.

"How are you guessing every song?" Blaine marvelled.

Kurt laughed. "I have diverse musical tastes. And my dad's into Queen, AC/DC, Metallica and the like. Personally I'm more into showtunes and pop, Beyonce, Britney, Lady Gaga…"

Blaine studied Kurt, who happily (but elegantly, of course) shovelled popcorn into his mouth. The two boys were on the floor in Blaine's room, leaning against his bed. Dinner had come from Blaine's substantial stash of junk food, and after belting out Hotel California for a little while, Blaine had decided that it would be fun to test out the extent of Kurt's musical repertoire, not realising that Kurt did indeed have diverse musical tastes.

"We should sing a duet," Blaine said.

Kurt looked at Blaine, grinning. "Another one?"

Blaine smiled back. "Why not?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What have you got in mind?"

Blaine's smile grew as he stood up, grabbing a CD from his desk as he headed to his stereo. He put the CD in, forwarded to the right track and turned to Kurt as the music started up. He extended his hand to Kurt, pulling him up as Kurt took the first verse.

Down with love, the flowers and rice and shoes

Down with love, the root of all midnight blues

Down with things that give you that well-known pain

Take that moon and wrap it in cellophane

Blaine and Kurt spun around the little free space in Blaine's room.

Down with love, let's liquidate all its friends

The moon, the June, the roses and rainbows ends

Down with songs that moan about night and day

Down with love, yes, take it away, away

Take it away

Give it back to the birds and the bees and the Viennese

Down with eyes, romantic and stupid

Down with sighs and down with Cupid

Brother let's stuff that dove

Down with love!

Kurt grinned as Blaine did a little dance.

Down with things that give you that well-known pain

Take that moon and wrap it in cellophane

As Blaine grabbed his hands and danced with him some more, Kurt tried to ignore the lyrics, focusing instead on the fact that he appeared to have successfully cheered Blaine up, and that he was actually dancing with him in his bedroom. There's something possibly sexual about that, he mused.

Down with songs that moan about night and day

Down with love, take it away, away

Take it away

Give it back to the birds and the bees and the Viennese

Down with eyes, romantic and stupid

Down with sighs and down with Cupid

Brother let's stuff that dove

Down with love

Blaine gave Kurt a final spin, before collapsing into exhilarated laughter as the next song began. Straightening, he went to his stereo, turning it off. He turned, leaning against his desk, watching as a rather flushed Kurt sat down on his bed, looking at him with a sparkle in his eyes.

Blaine smiled. "Thanks a lot, Kurt."

"What for?"

"For today."

Kurt smiled back, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and grateful that he was already flushed from the dancing. "I should go," he said, picking up his bag and his blazer from the floor where he had unceremoniously dumped them. "It's getting late." He stood up, glancing at Blaine, who shuffled over to the door, pulling it open.

"Thanks again," Blaine told him, leaning against the door as Kurt stepped out of his room.

"Not a problem. Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

He stood there for a moment longer, as if waiting for…something…anything…to happen. Then he waved goodbye and turned, walking away.

He smiled to himself. So what if Blaine didn't feel the same way about him? Making the older boy smile after a breakup was worth it.

For now, anyway.

-|end|-

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