"This cannot be happening," Kurt mumbled to himself as he exited the fourth drugstore he had been to that day. He was running dangerously low on moisturizer and now it was raining. Hard. He was pulling his hood tighter around his face in a vain attempt to protect his hair when he heard them.

"It looks like the little fairy is afraid of the rain. I think this is a good opportunity to man him up a bit, don't you think so, Karofsky?"

Kurt had barely registered Azimio's voice when he felt himself flying through the air and into a parked car. The force of the impact left him gasping for air and he sunk to the ground clutching his midsection.

"I do. The fag needs to learn his place. Either man up or hide yourself, fancy, because you're polluting our air with your gay." Karofsky leaned down and picked Kurt up by his collar, lifting him until his feet barely touched the ground.

Kurt spluttered and tried desperately to remain calm, but terror soon surged through his veins. The parking lot was deserted and no one on the road would see him through the rain. He tried to gather the air in his lungs to scream, but Karofsky's grip was too tight. Everything was getting blurry; he felt himself turning limp against the side of the car. The fight to remain conscious was too difficult, and he knew that only pain was waiting for him if he did.

"I'm sorry, but what do you think you are doing?"

Karofsky jumped at the newcomer's voice and released his hold on Kurt who crumpled to the ground clutching his throat and breathing heavily.

The voice was cool, almost apathetic, yet it contained a clear "don't mess with me" edge. Its owner was calmly leaning against a black sedan and uncaring of the rain that plastered his curls to his forehead and soaked his black v-neck.

Karofsky sneered as he took in this boy's appearance. He was confident, sure, but Karofsky knew he could take him in a fight; he was smaller than the boy who was still gasping on the wet asphalt.

"What does it look like we're doing? We're teaching the faggot that he can't just waltz around and spread his fairy dust wherever the hell he wants to," Azimio replied with derision.

The newcomer's hazel eyes flashed with anger and pure loathing as he stared at the jocks and appeared to calculate his next move. "I suggest that you leave, now," he said slowly and darkly, his eyes never leaving the jock's faces, "or you will become intimately acquainted with my little friend over here." While he spoke he removed a switchblade from his pocket, opened it, and brandished it at Karofsky. "He hasn't tasted blood in quite a long time and is…thirsty." His eyes had darkened and were now shining with so much unconcealed malice as he glared at the attackers that Karofsky and Azimio each took a step back.

"We were leaving anyway," Azimio spat, "We didn't want to waste this much time on a faggot like him."

The hazel eyed boy stepped closer and would have sunk the blade into Azimio's flesh had the two not ran away like cowards. Instead he turned his attention to the boy on the ground who was attempting to make himself as unnoticeable as possible and was staring at his savoir with a mixture of gratitude and fear.

"Name's Blaine," the curly haired boy said as he put away his blade, "I'm not going to hurt you unless you tick me off, which I don't recommend." The last part was added with a smirk, almost like it was an afterthought. "Get in my car. I didn't save your ass so you could get into a car accident because you were shaking at the wheel."

Kurt was slowly beginning to regain his powers of speech and his ice queen persona was kicking in, although it was less impressive from his position on the ground. "Why on earth should I go with you? For all I know you could be just as bad as them and will drive down a dark alley and attack me." He glared at Blaine skeptically and crossed his arms over his chest in an act of defiance.

"Look," Blaine replied, slightly exasperated, "It's raining. If you were able to, you would have gotten off the ground already. I'm doing you a favor here." He held out his hand to Kurt in an attempt to help him up, but Kurt was unconvinced.

"What's in it for you?" he asked with his trademark eyebrow lift.

Blaine sighed and ran a hand through his unkempt hair before replying. "You're hot."

Kurt's face reddened at the compliment and he hoped to whatever god might be there that the rain was enough to disguise it. He wasn't used to attention from other boys, and while flattering, attention from a boy with a switchblade was unwanted.

"Thank you for your offer, but I can handle myself," Kurt replied as strongly as he could, although it came out a little breathlessly. Upon trying to stand, however, the pain in his ribs returned sharply and he would have fallen back to the ground with a cry if it wasn't for Blaine's arms around his waist. A blush once again rose to Kurt's cheeks at the close contact, and he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed.

"Like hell you can handle yourself. Come back for your car later. I'm driving you home and any protest would-" He paused here, as if trying to find the right word "-annoy me. You saw what happens to those who annoy me." Blaine finished his statement with a smirk, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was serious or not but he didn't want to find out.

"Fine-" he said with a huff, but the rest of his sentence was cut off as Blaine literally swept him off his feet into a bridal carry. "Was that really necessary," Kurt exclaimed, flustered. Blaine's arms were strong, and his chest, while still wet, was extremely comforting. Kurt was beginning to question his judgment and nearly missed Blaine's reply.

"Completely."

AN: I completely loved writing this! I think they might be a little OOC, but bad Blaine was just too tempting to resist. I'll be posting a continuation of what happens at Kurt's house very soon, but I haven't written it yet. If you have an opinion/idea of what should happen, let me know! As always, be brutal with reviews.

~Alice Rosalie