Author's note: Hello there! For those of you who have followed me from my Out series, I want to inform you that this is a completely different story. This also isn't the superman fic, S, that I have been working on. I am about halfway through that story, but have decided not to publish it until I'm finished with it. This is a completely different fic that I've told none of you about. A few weeks ago, I received an email from one of my wonderful readers, who always puts a smile on my face, about writing an action/spy fic with Glee characters in the Charlie's Angels universe. At first, I thought that she was crazy. I even warned her that I rarely, if ever, watch/read crime or action, but she was persistent. So, I watched the Charlie's Angels movies, which, until she approached about them, I wasn't even sure what they were about. But, instantly, I had this idea that I had to put into words, so here it is! After working out a few details with the reader who approached me, klainefever2.0, I have come up with this. This story will not have any of the Charlie Angel's characters, and will only contain elements from the movies, and will be so weighed down by gushy romance that it will probably disappoint many of you avid crime/action enthusiasts. But, I hope you like it, anyway, because I certainly do. And, needless to say, I want to sincerely thank klainefever2.0 for introducing me to this story, because, without her, I wouldn't have this. It was very flattering and humbling to be prompted to write a story, as that's never happened before. And I hope all of you, whether new readers who have just clicked on this story, or readers who have followed me through my Out series, know how much I appreciate you. Please, leave klainefever2.0 and me your reviews, suggestions, or questions! This story will also be posted on my scarves&coffee account, BVB Army 7 Forever, whenever I get to a computer that likes that website. If you'd like to, you can go to my other stories, the Out series, which start on the story, Out. They are about bully!straight!Blaine, and his life as he falls for Kurt. However, they do contain darker themes than this story will, such as rape, emotional and physical abuse, child abuse, suicide, drug abuse, and etcetera. But, enjoy this story for now!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Charlie's Angels.
Kurt stretched his arms out like wings, his fingers curling around the moonlight as if he meant to capture it. Tipping his head back, he savored the nippy winds that tangled like braids around his middle, twining through his long legs. This was what he loved most, those few seconds when he stood, suspended by the tips of his toes on the edge of a towering building. And when he let himself fall back, he burst into maniacal laughter, as if he somehow drew pleasure from tumbling out of his safety net.
If he could fly, he imagined that this would be what it felt like. But then he remembered that he was plummeting like a rock, and slowly slid his hand over his shoulder, pulling a latch on his knapsack that released a tarp-like blanket, which briefly coiled around his body, before billowing like a fluffed pillow and shooting him upward.
Trapped in the wind, he gently swayed to the ground, with the grace of a flaky, crisp leaf. Opening his eyes, Kurt put his feet in front of him and landed on them, as silent as a stalking cat. He instantly crouched to the ground, unhooking himself from his parachute and leaving it behind as he snuck toward the opened window of the brick building. Poking his nose over the sill, he scoffed at the sight of his stepbrother and best friend, the latter pulling at his cushioned tush, having found nothing better to do with his time while Kurt was on the roof. Kurt tapped his knuckles on the glass, hissing for both of them to come over.
Finn was the first one to glance up, and he punched Puck's arm, gaining his attention as he kept prying at his disguise. In order to distract a roomful of drunken men—the product of an expensive party hosted by a white-collared man and his wife—the two of them had donned themselves in gaudy dresses and lipsticks, and then hid in shame behind the protection of fans, which kept searching eyes at bay. Tossing aside his fan, Finn stomped over to Kurt, his pacing and swinging arms anything but ladylike. Even though his brother seemed to have no problem with being noisy, Kurt still kept his voice low, his eyes constantly sweeping the area. "The generators are off."
Smiling from ear to ear at his little brother, Finn scrubbed his hair, although he knew that Kurt didn't like that. "Good job, Kurt. It's time to go home."
Kurt held up one finger, "Before I'm seen with you in public… here." Opening his bag, Kurt dug through it for a tissue, and he wiped the smeared and fading lipstick stains from Finn's mouth. "That wasn't your color. You're more of a coral pink."
Finn laughed, "I'll keep that in mind. This won't be the last time that I put on a dress."
As Finn pushed himself through the window and landed on the other side, Puck walked over to them, making a face as he picked his underwear out of his butt cheeks. "Next time, I'm picking the dresses. This one is riding up, and it makes my butt look huge!" Hopping through the window, Puck went around to Kurt's other side and slid his arm around his waist. "Let's get back. I've fought off enough sexually conflicted men for one day."
Piling into the back of Puck's bulky and rumbling truck, Kurt propped his elbow up and stared out the foggy window. Comforted by the sounds of Puck and Finn's voices in front of him, Kurt let himself zone out, a luxury he was rarely afforded. For the past few years, Finn and Puck had been the only family Kurt had, after the death of both of his parents, and his stepmom.
When he was quite young, he'd lost his mom, Elizabeth, to a grueling cancer, which drew itself out two years longer than it should have, and had inched near the line of being torturous when his mom had finally passed, a skeleton of the beautiful, slender woman she had once been, with her porcelain skin and bright eyes. Kurt was glad that he couldn't remember much of the experience, as he'd only seen one picture of his mom when she was about six months out of her chemo treatments. In the picture, her sparkly, blue eyes, clearer than a summer lake, were swollen and gray, and her thick, brown hair was shedding in clumps. Her pouty, pink lips were thin, cracked lines, sucked between her teeth. A much smaller version of himself had been clinging to his mom's neck, his face solemn, as if he knew what was going to happen to his mom, when no one had even explained it to him.
Six years later, his dad, Burt, had passed away. Kurt was only fourteen years old when his dad had collapsed in his car shop, his face frozen in that look of shock he must have taken on as his chest seized up. The customer he'd been working with instantly called an ambulance, and then knocked frantically on the garage door, getting Kurt to come upstairs to see what all of the raucous was about. Two days later, his dad was dead. His newlywed wife, Carole, had suffered intensely from losing not one husband, but two. Kurt, who had been sitting with his dad and holding his hand as he took his last breaths, had gotten up the strength to call Carole, who had been at one of Finn's football games. Upon learning the news of her husband's passing, she hadn't stopped her car, but had continued on, even with her eyes squinted up as tears drenched her face. Unaware of what was in front of her, Carole had lost control of the car that she hadn't realized started drifting into the oncoming lane. To avoid killing the unfortunate people in the car that had veered off just in time to prevent a collision, Carole had jerked her car off of the road, and wrapped it around a tree. She had died on impact.
With no family to provide for him or pay for his schooling, Finn had dropped out of McKinley days later. Because he was four years older than Kurt—an eighteen year old—he was able to leave the house without any problems from the government, which had tried to take Kurt. Kurt, who knew that he would go to an orphanage, had stood in his brother's bedroom, watching him fling clothes and body soap into a bag. Finn was going to leave with Puck, who had found out what Finn was doing, and followed suit with leaving school. Puck didn't have much of a family himself, and took this chance as a respite to get out of a household that didn't want him anymore. After he finished packing, Finn glanced up at Kurt, and his eyes softened. He paced over to Kurt, who held out his arms and wrapped them around Finn's middle. His brother had held him for a long time, rocking him back and forth, hushing him. "Hey… you're lucky. You have the chance to be adopted by another family. You'll be taken care of. Me… I don't have anywhere to go."
Kurt squished his face into Finn's chest, not understanding how he had pulled the lucky end of the stick. "But I don't want another family. I want my dad. I don't want you to leave. I'm scared. Finn, please don't go. Don't let them take me to an orphanage. What if nobody adopts me, and I'm all alone when I turn eighteen, anyway?"
It hadn't taken much convincing for Finn to lead Kurt down to his bedroom, where he helped Kurt to pack as lightly as he could, despite how Kurt grieved over the clothes he'd be leaving behind. On the day that he left with Puck, Kurt came with them, the three of them aimlessly wandering, not sure where they would go. Because Burt and Carole hadn't yet written wills, none of them got any of the family money, so they were only surviving off of the money in their pockets, which Finn and Puck had come up with from doing odd jobs. The three of them stayed in various places over the period of six months. The first was the house of a friend of Puck's, who had played on the football team with him and Finn. But they had quickly removed themselves when Kurt, having been put in the small bunker that was above the room of the three older guys, woke them up with his squealing, as the friend had, at some point during the night, climbed the ladder to reach him and had tried to grope him.
After Puck led Kurt off of the property, Finn had stayed inside for a few minutes, and when he came out, his knuckles were splashed with blood. Distraught, Kurt had gazed at him with round eyes, but they didn't speak of the incident, and started to move on again. Life was never simple for them, as they didn't come across a place that could be a permanent home for them. Kurt could tell that his presence only stressed out his brother and Puck all the more, but his brother especially. Finn had always been overprotective of his little brother, and only let them stay at places that looked appropriate for Kurt to be in, even if it was a free home for the night. His attitude toward Kurt had started up when Kurt had first entered high school, and bullies had circled him like vultures, sensing that he was gay—even if Kurt had never acted upon it. Finn just wanted a peaceful, secure home for Kurt, and Kurt knew this because he had seen Finn stay up at night, scrubbing his hair and looking hopelessly at a map of the city, at places they had never stayed before, or places they had been to, but hadn't worked out. To Finn, nothing less than the best for his little brother was good enough.
Just when Kurt thought that nothing good was ever going to happen to them, they'd stumbled across the strangest thing that any of them had ever seen. A boy, who didn't look much older than Finn or Puck, had come tumbling out of a bar that they had been walking by, carrying with them their slumped shoulders and lowered heads. The boy, who had later revealed himself to be twenty, had grabbed Puck's wrist, his chocolate eyes huge with wonder and curiosity. "Come here." He had said to them. "We don't have much time." The boy, Kurt had noticed, was arrayed in a tight, sparkling blue dress, and he carried a pair of blue high heels in his hand. A blond wig sat on his dark head. Pulling the three of them into a nearby alleyway, the boy had pushed his finger into Puck's chest, "You. Who are you?" He had nodded at Finn, "And you. What's your name?"
Finn and Puck had shared a look that spoke a thousand words, and then they smashed their lips together, refusing him. Unique had smirked cattily, as if he'd been expecting, and even looking forward to, some resistance. "My name is Unique. I need you to come with me—"
"Whoa, whoa." Finn had yanked his arm out of Unique's hand, "We're not going to just follow you. Who are you? What do you want from us?"
Unique had grinned from ear to ear, unfazed by Finn's distrust. "I've been watching you two for a few months. Homeless vagabonds… my favorite kind of people. You fight quite well… you know, when the small one is threatened." His eyes had flicked disinterestedly to Kurt. "I work for a man named Sebastian Smythe. But everybody calls him Sebastian. I'm his… oh, you could say I'm his assistant." Winking, he smirked when Puck and Finn grimaced, knowing what he was referring to, while Kurt was too young to comprehend what was so gross. "And I want you two to come with me. Sebastian is interested in letting you work for him. As a millionaire, he sees all of the crime that happens outside of the office. It's usually caused by petty jealousy among the richest of men—"
Puck gawked at him, "And why would we want to do Sebastian's dirty work?"
Unique's next words had cut straight to the point, "Because I have something that you want. I have protection for the small one… a place for him to live. It's one of the highest security buildings. You're not going to find anywhere that's better. The three of you could eat gourmet meals, and sleep on mattresses so thick that you'd need a ladder to climb onto them. But you'd have to do whatever Sebastian says, when he says it. He can be a kind, generous man… but don't get on his bad side. Are you coming with me or not? Sebastian is waiting for your arrival."
Finn had cautiously loaded Kurt into the white, shortened limo that Unique had parked behind the bar. As he held his hand on Kurt's back, Finn glared at Unique, who sat across from them, obliviously adjusting his wig and applying fresh lipstick. It took about a half hour to arrive at their destination, during which time Kurt cuddled his head onto his brother's shirt, gazing insecurely out the window, as they rolled out of the area that he had always been familiar with. "Ohio was the wisest decision of which place we should keep our headquarters." Unique conversed with them, trying to cut through the tense silence. "Nobody ever suspects Ohio."
Finn raised a brow, "And why is this Sebastian involved in white-collar crimes? And why doesn't he handle them himself?"
"Sebastian's father, whom he inherited the property and money from, did some perverse dealings during his day. Sebastian is merely dealing with the consequences. And Sebastian has never shown himself. He lives in the basement of the headquarters, and no one has ever seen his face."
"That's creepy." Puck commented, "Is something wrong with the guy? Is he ugly?"
"No one knows." Unique made a face at Puck, as if he were challenging him to cough out another rude comment. "Sebastian won't talk about why he stays down there. He communicates through a speaker. You will be speaking to him tonight."
Shaking his head, Finn had leaned heavily against the tinted window, his arm around Kurt tightening. "This is insane."
Ten minutes later, the limo rolled up to a large expanse of land that was sheltered by high, wiry gates. Guards, garbed in black suits, pointed guns at the ground, and when the car appeared, they all twisted their bodies and aimed at the limo. Finn suddenly grabbed Kurt and yanked him to his chest, but Unique shook his head. "There's nothing to worry about. They're trained to do that. They'll only shoot if they see a threat."
The person driving the limo, which had a partition going down the middle, did something to the gate to make it swing open. Unique settled back in his seat, scratching at his cuticle. "Everything on this property is activated by voice recognition. Fingerprints and facial scans can be reproduced with certain procedures, but voices are completely unique. Oh, and stay away from that fence. It's electrocuted."
The limo stopped on a concrete driveway that was curved around the front of a sprawling mansion. The outside of the building was made with reddish bricks, and had a number of windows dotting different rooms. There was nothing homely about the mansion, which had no greens in the yard, or flower cases under the windows. Rectangular doors, made of thick slabs of blackened wood, sat in the center of the building. Guards stood on either side of the door, and when Unique slid his legs out of the car, they lowered their guns. "At ease, men." Unique said, rubbing their shoulders as he passed by them, in nothing less than an openly flirtatious manner. "We have guests. Come along."
Finn helped Kurt out of the limo, keeping a hand at his front, so he could push him back if he needed to. Puck appeared at his other side, hands curled into thick fists. They trailed after Unique as he punched a number into a pad that had been stuck next to the door, and then spoke into it. After it beeped, the door unsealed itself from the wall and swung open. Finn yanked Kurt snugly to his side, his muscles so tight that Kurt could feel his veins pulsing through them. "I'm back, Sebastian. And I've brought them with me." Unique said lightly, pulling off his wig and flinging it onto a couch.
Suddenly, a faceless voice filtered into the room, and Puck snapped his head up, trying to find the source of it. From a speaker that had been hooked up in the corner, the voice said, "Excellent work, Unique. Welcome to my estate. Will you give me your names?" The voice, to Kurt's surprise, sounded quite young, as if a boy in his twenties was on the other side of that speaker.
Puck's eyes widened, and he looked at Unique accusingly, "What is this? This is the plot of every basic horror movie! Where is this guy?"
Unique stretched out across a couch, "Don't get yourself worked up. Like I said, Sebastian is right under your feet. Sebastian, this is Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman. But he goes by Puck."
Finn pushed Kurt behind him, a place that Kurt felt much safer, as he looped his arms around his brother's middle. "How did you know our names? We didn't give them to you."
Unique smiled, "It's easy enough to get someone's name, provided you follow them around long enough. Sebastian, can I have three rooms prepared for them?"
"Three?" The voice questioned. "I had you bring in two men."
"There's a third." Unique corrected, his sharp eyes staring directly at Kurt's small face. "A little, angelic one, no more than fifteen years old. I believe he's the brother of the tall one with all of the questions. He's a mousey thing, with no muscle. He won't be of use to you, but he's the reason we got Puck and Finn to come here. They needed a safe place to keep him. They were desperate."
"Well, we could use all of the help we could get—"
"Absolutely not." Finn said shortly, his nostrils flaring. "I won't have my little brother involved in whatever schemes you get into—"
"We'll negotiate." Unique interrupted, giving Finn a nasty look, as if disagreeing with Sebastian was the worst crime he could have committed. "Sebastian, I'll be taking them to their rooms. This new situation has put them into cantankerous moods." Motioning for the three of them to tag along again, Unique said impatiently, "Keep up. You'll be receiving a maid once a day. We have butlers to assist you at all hours. The kitchen is always open. And don't worry about being noisy. The walls are soundproofed. Completely. They'll even block out banging beds." He whipped his head to the side, "Are you two gay for each other?"
Finn's mouth dropped open, "Excuse me?"
"It's just a question." He scowled. "Apparently not. And you…" Unique smirked at Kurt, who had returned to peering out from under Finn's arm like a spooked animal. "You won't be banging any beds until you look a little less like a baby penguin."
Covering Kurt's ears, Finn spluttered, "You can't just say something like that to him! He's fourteen years old!"
Unique disregarded the comment, and the four of them remained in silence as they took an elevator up three floors. Once the elevator stopped, Unique stepped out, and pointed down a hallway. "You three have the room down there. Oh… the system overheard your voices. You've been placed appropriately. The only one it hasn't recognized is you." Unique blinked at Kurt, who had yet to speak. "Say something, and I'll match you up in the system."
At Finn's nudge of encouragement, Kurt opened his mouth, and finally let his trembling voice come out. "My n-name is Kurt."
"Kurt, then." Unique said dismissively. He looked back up at the older men. "We'll talk in the morning. Again, welcome to the company."
Pressing a button, Unique stepped back onto the elevator. After he was gone, Finn pulled Kurt around to his front and rubbed his back, while Puck walked over to the doorway and pushed at the pad on the side of the door. Saying his name, Puck jerked back when the door suddenly opened. Finn stepped after Puck, "Be careful what you say. Our new boss may be listening. Is there a speaker?"
Finn walked into the room with Puck, who started pulling cushions off of the couches, and peering under the tables for any hidden speakers. "None that I can see. I think they allowed us this much privacy. But check out this room!" Throwing himself onto a couch, Puck sighed, "This couch is comfier than any of the beds I've slept on in the past three months."
The main space, which included a small kitchen and a living space for them to lounge and watch TV, appeared to branch off into five other rooms, one of which was revealed to be a bathroom after Finn carefully opened the door. The other four were bedrooms, all of which included a dresser, closet space, and another TV. Taking Kurt into the bedroom that was farthest from the main door, Finn turned on the light and sat him down on the bed.
"Sleep with one eye open, Puck." Finn warned his friend, who may or may not have already fallen asleep. Picking up Kurt's feet, he laid them across his lap and pulled off his sandals, even though Kurt was perfectly capable of doing that himself. Since their parents' deaths, Finn had taken on the role of the man of the house, and sometimes took it a step too far, by treating Kurt like a child. Too exhausted and nervous to remind him that he was fourteen, not four, Kurt let him get away with the unnecessary nurturing.
After Kurt was stripped down to his underwear, Finn laid him down on the bed and hovered over him, staring at him as he rubbed a thumb over Kurt's silky cheek. "It'll be okay." Finn whispered to him. "I won't let anything bad happen to you." Although he hadn't known Finn very well before they lost their parents, Kurt knew that his brother loved him, maybe even more than anything else. As soon as his mom had passed, Finn had broken up with his girlfriend and left everything else that was important to him behind, so he could devote his entire being to a scared and naïve Kurt, who didn't know much about the big, bad world. Finn had been Kurt's rock, and had once held Kurt, who had been crying about what had been taken from him, across his lap, whispering to him. "Shh… I'm still here, Kurt. I'm not going anywhere. We were our parents' whole world. Now you're my whole world. I love you so much, little brother."
Kurt blinked up at his older brother, who slowly lay down beside of him, just as Puck showed up in the doorway. Finn looked up at his best friend, who had become more of a brother to both of them. "I'm going to sleep in here tonight. There's something about this place that makes me uneasy. I want to be close to Kurt in case something happens."
Kurt clutched his brother's shoulder, "Finn, why can't I come with you and Puck to fight in these white-collar crimes?"
"Huh?" Finn, who must not have been expecting Kurt to speak, glimpsed over at him, brows puckered. "Oh… Kurt, I don't want you to get hurt, whatever these people have us doing. It sounds dangerous. You're too small and young to fight."
"But what if you were hurt? How would I know that you were okay if I weren't with you? You and Puck are all that I have, Finn. I want to help you."
Groaning, Finn shook his head from side to side, "I'll… I'll think about it, Kurt. This is happening very suddenly. Just… go to sleep for now. It will all make more sense in the morning." Kissing Kurt's forehead, he rolled to the side, muttering a few more things to Puck, who retreated from the room. Kurt stared at the back of his brother's head, and then shut his eyes, wishing for normalcy.
Bringing himself back to the present, Kurt stepped out of the car when his brother pulled on his wrist. Eleven years later, Kurt was now twenty five, and occasionally accompanied his brother and friend on their adventures. As time had passed, they had adjusted to the way of life of these white-collar criminals, and although Kurt—as well as Finn and Puck—was still on edge with Sebastian and Unique, who never let them get too close, they understood that they were being provided care. They probably could have left by now and sought out realistic jobs, but something had held them back—their enjoyment of the missions they were sent on, and the aftermath that they left behind as they watched a criminal's plans crumble under his feet. Although Kurt was never involved in the physical work, as his brother insisted that he was still too small and weak to fight, he used his thin stature to his advantage, and scaled the sides of buildings with ease, and even crawled through vents, even though his brother still grimaced about both of those tasks.
Kurt entered the mansion with Finn and Puck, the former saying, "Mr. Vernon's company has been shut down. The police will be seeing to him now."
"Excellent." Sebastian replied a second later, "Boys, you may want to take a seat. I have something for you to see. This mission, if you choose to accept it, will require some of your best, most efficient work. You've never dealt with a kidnapping before."
"Sebastian, I had to wear a dress tonight. I think I can handle anything." Puck said sardonically, as he twisted toward the large TV at the front of the room. "A kidnapping, huh? Let me guess… a multimillionaire pissed someone off, and they took revenge."
"I'm not sure." Sebastian said, his quiet voice expressing how confused he was about the situation. "The victim involved was Leighton Anderson, an important chief executive officer of a banking company. You boys won't have to travel far to get to this crime scene. The office is practically in our backyard. Here is a video clip of the kidnapping as it happened. For your information, the parking lot was empty before Mr. Anderson appeared. He had stayed late tonight."
A few seconds later, a grainy video popped onto the screen. It showed a section of the parking lot where a single car was parked. After a moment, a tall, slender man with a nearly unidentifiable face walked onto the screen. He had sleek, black hair, with gray streaks painted through it. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and carried a briefcase with him. As he unlocked his car, another car came tearing through the scene. Although the sound was muted, Kurt could tell that the moment was chaotic, with screeching tires and clashing metal, as the passenger door was thrown open. Leighton spun around, alarmed by the other car, and appeared to yelp as a blurry hand lashed out and grabbed the front of his shirt. He was pulled down, and forced into the car, which sped away once more. The only thing that remained on the ground was his briefcase.
The screen went black again, and Finn instantly started asking questions, "What's Mr. Anderson's history in business dealings? Is he liked by most everyone?"
"It would seem so." Sebastian said pathetically. Kurt could tell that it was bothering him that he didn't have a strong lead. "Mr. Anderson is fair to all of his clients. I've asked around, and no one has complained about him. And I can't understand why, if no one had any motivation to do it, he was kidnapped. He's rich, I assure you, but he's not the richest man a criminal can get his hands on."
Kurt, who had been resting his chin on his hand, suddenly lifted his head, "Wait… Leighton Anderson. The Anderson family… Oh!"
Puck swept his eyes over to Kurt, and he gently shook his shoulder, "Do you have something, Kurt?"
Kurt nodded, "Leighton Anderson… He has a son, doesn't he?"
"Give me a second." From Sebastian's end, he could be heard clicking, and then he spoke again. "Yes… two sons. Cooper Anderson… an actor who moved out to California more than twenty years ago. And Blaine Anderson, a thirty year old. It seems that he was estranged from his family several years ago. No job is listed."
"Blaine Anderson!" Puck slapped his knee, "I knew that name was familiar! Finn, he was in our class. He was a year older than us. I wondered whatever happened to him. After he graduated, no one ever spoke to him again."
Finn returned to the matter at hand, "Anyway, Sebastian, can you zoom in on the footage at all? Make out the face of the person in the car?"
"No. I've already tried. The windows are too dark." Sebastian made a frustrated noise. "I don't understand why there's only one car, though. And I can't tell how many people are inside of it. In kidnappings, there's always more than one car at the scene. It's for protection purposes. I had Unique drive out to the crime scene, while you were on the other case. He's going to poke around for evidence. Tomorrow, you can get started on this. There's nothing you can do tonight."
"Thanks, Sebastian." Finn stood up again and turned to Kurt and Puck. "Come on, both of you. We need a full night of rest if we're going to get Leighton Anderson out of this situation."
Going with Finn and Puck as they headed for their bedrooms, Kurt closed his eyes for a fleeting second, surrounding himself with the memory of Blaine's face. Blaine had been nineteen when Kurt met him, and had been a handsome, muscled man, with a tan face, and a pair of hazel eyes that were outlined by thick, black lashes, the same shade as his curly hair. Blaine hardly ever smiled while he was in school, but Kurt remembered his lips, thin and red, like the petals of a rose. Kurt smiled as he thought of Blaine, who was the closest thing that Kurt had to a friend while he was in school.
After he said goodnight to his brother and friend, Kurt shut himself into his bedroom and started to strip himself of his clothes. "Oh, Blaine…" he sighed, lowering onto his bed and slouching his shoulders. He unlatched his shoes and pulled them off, and rubbed at the sore pads of his feet. Blaine had been the strange kid in his school, as everyone, even Puck and Finn, liked to call him. Kurt had never had much of an opinion of him, having only seen him when he was walking by in the hallways. He just seemed like another face. Blaine didn't talk to anyone, and seemed unaffected by almost everything, even the bullies that had made Kurt's younger years close to miserable, had Finn and Puck not been there for him. As they barked after him and tried to provoke him, Blaine simply kept walking, not even making a face.
For a while, people wondered if he was deaf, and when Kurt had asked his brother, Finn had shaken his head. "No, he responds when the teachers call on him. He even has some of the highest grades out of all of the kids in my class." He had said lazily, as if he wasn't that invested in a conversation about a weird kid. "Stay away from him, Kurt. I don't like how they bully him, but there has to be a reason that he's been completely ostracized."
Kurt had never figured that reason out, and because of that, he hadn't been alarmed, or urged to push away from Blaine, when they'd nearly run into each other in the restroom. As Kurt turned away from the sink, he'd drawn back, surprised, by the sight of another body, just inches from him. "Oh!" Kurt had blushed, embarrassed about being so oblivious to other people. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in—" Looking up, Kurt had widened his eyes at Blaine, who was staring at him, but wouldn't speak. "Blaine?"
Suddenly, when Kurt reached out to touch his arm, Blaine had jerked back, his head lowering. As he rushed away, Kurt remained leaning against the sink, his eyes about to pop out of his head. "What was that?" He whispered, before grabbing his bag and leaving the restroom as well.
The next day, Kurt had taken notice of Blaine more often. After he weaved through a hallway that was swarming with older boys that had taken up the hobby of pushing Kurt and yelling names at him, he got to his locker, and saw that Blaine, whose locker was a few down from his, was standing at it, and rifling through it for his books. Smiling, Kurt had said above the noise, "Good morning. It's a beautiful day, huh?" Blaine's shoulders stiffened, and he tipped his head back, checking around, before his huge eyes fell onto Kurt. Kurt almost laughed at how startled he appeared that Kurt had spoken to him. "Blaine, how about we eat together at lunch today? Under the tree? It's too nice to not eat outside."
Blaine still didn't say anything to him. Kurt, who had never heard his voice, wondered if he even had one, and actually communicated with his teachers through sign language, or by writing on a notebook. And then Blaine had turned around and maneuvered through the crowd. This time, Kurt had simply grinned lopsidedly to himself, watching him go. Later that day, Kurt headed outside and plopped himself under the tree, soaking up its shade. He had brought a lunch bag and his homework with him. As he opened his notebook, he thought that Blaine might not show up, because he didn't want to be caught with a freshman. Kurt wondered what it was about speaking to Blaine that gave him the confidence to form full sentences. He wasn't like this with anyone else. Although Kurt wasn't made fun of for the same reasons that Blaine was, he still kept almost as much distance from everyone as Blaine did, with the exclusion of his brother and friend, Puck.
About five minutes later, Kurt had heard the sound of grass crunching, and raised his head. As he expected, Blaine appeared on the other side of a hill that was about fifteen feet away from the tree. Without a word to Kurt, Blaine flopped onto the hill, keeping a cautious eye on him, as if he feared that he might come closer. Finding Blaine's shyness endearing, Kurt had giggled, watching Blaine's face turn a deep red as he buried his nose in a book. Conversation suddenly wasn't necessary, as Blaine had said enough by just appearing, so Kurt had settled back into the tree, nibbling his lunch as he worked on English problems.
The next day went on very similarly. Because he had to get to his class early to meet with his group about their project, Kurt didn't see Blaine at his locker, but returned to the tree. He usually didn't eat there, and didn't know why he had come back. To his surprise, Blaine walked over the hill again, his face stoic as he stared at Kurt. Kurt quirked a brow at him, and Blaine swallowed, as if he needed to prepare himself to speak. "You weren't at your locker. I thought you hadn't come today."
Kurt had smiled from ear to ear, realizing that Blaine had appreciated that one kindness given to him, and was even so bold to expect it to become a daily routine. "I'm sorry." He said genuinely, as Blaine sank on the hill. "I'll greet you tomorrow morning." And that was all that was said between them.
The following day, Kurt got there five minutes early, and prepared himself for his classes, before he snuck around the corner. It only took about two minutes before Blaine separated himself from an oncoming herd of people. Biting back a burble of laughter, Kurt watched him open his locker, and then lean his head back, checking his surroundings for Kurt. Kurt didn't miss the frown that pulled his lips down. Creeping out when Blaine turned back to his locker, Kurt scampered over to him and playfully covered his eyes. "Boo!" He yipped, and pulled his hands away when Blaine started to turn. Blaine spent a few seconds looking at Kurt, and then his lips quivered as the corners of them flipped up. That was the first time that Blaine had smiled at Kurt.
Their friendship continued on in that quirky way for the rest of the year, neither of them saying much to the other as they met up at that tree and hill during lunch. They didn't ask for each other's numbers, and never talked after school. But Kurt was content with all that Blaine gave him, because he was happiest in those precious hours that he spent with his new friend. It wasn't until his dad and stepmom died that something changed between them. While his dad was in the hospital, Kurt took a few days off of school, needing to spend all of his attention on his dad. Sitting by his dad's bedside, Kurt silently wished that he had Blaine's number, so that he could text or call him. He wanted to hear his best friend's comforting words.
The day after his dad and Carole's deaths, Kurt had cried for Finn to give him one more day at McKinley. Although Finn had looked confused by Kurt's request, he hadn't been able to deny his little brother, and had reluctantly nodded. When Kurt got there, he didn't see Blaine at his locker, and worried that he wasn't in that day, and that he would never see him again. Kurt impatiently squirmed through his morning classes, not listening to his teachers, because there was no point. But when his lunch hour came, Kurt had run out to the tree, where, to his relief, Blaine was standing. "Blaine!" Kurt bellowed, bursting into tears as he threw himself at Blaine. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck, Kurt had buried his face in his shirt, feeling his arms lock around his waist. "Blaine, it's all changing. I'm leaving school tomorrow. W-We'll never see each other again. What will I do without you?"
Without giving Kurt any warning, Blaine had cupped his chin and tilted his head back. So close to Blaine that he could see a freckle that sat just under his eyebrow, Kurt had shut his eyes when Blaine pressed his mouth to his. His warm lips nudged at Kurt's, which he split open as Blaine slid his tongue out and pressed at the line between them. As Blaine kissed him, Kurt came to terms with what he'd been denying all along, and told Blaine, "I love you." Blaine hadn't said it back, but part of Kurt would always know that Blaine did.
Years later, Kurt came across Blaine in the most unusual way. At twenty one, Kurt was finally old enough, as Finn deemed him, to walk by himself through town. The only reason that he followed this rule was to avoid his brother's griping when he got back. Having gone out to retrieve a book to pass the boredom away, Kurt shuffled by his high school, and didn't take much of a look at it, simply because it looked the same as it always did—plain and ramshackle. But it was on his trip back from the bookstore that Kurt noticed something different. In the window of the office, there was a flutter of movement, and Kurt gasped as a full figure walked by, his silhouette outlined by the blinds.
Knowing that all of the staff was required to be out of the building by now, Kurt let his curiosity get the best of him, and approached the building. He reached behind him and opened his bag, slipping his book inside and pulling out his rope and grappling hook. Tying them together, he flung the hook up to the window and took hold of the rope when it caught. He planted one foot on the side of the building and let his other lift, as well. The rope tightened, supporting all of his weight, as Kurt started climbing. He'd done this a thousand times before, but he still felt breathless, floating above the ground. Using his abdomen for most of his strength, Kurt went higher and higher, and finally reached the window. He raised a hand and grabbed the sill, then put his other hand on the window and pushed, planting his feet firmly on the side of the building.
As he expected, his low security school still didn't lock their windows, and the window gave with a few more nudges. Falling forward, Kurt made a soft sound as he caught his balance, and when he lifted his head, he met a pair of large, golden eyes. Forgetting that he was hanging from a window, Kurt let out a gust of air, a brilliant smile pulling at his lips as his eyes became watery. "Blaine." After a few years, Kurt would have figured that those childish feelings he had for the transparent Blaine would have faded away, but as Kurt looked at him, his heart constricted in a way that was more powerful than any feeling he'd had when he was young. Kicking his legs up in his urgency to get to Blaine, Kurt clawed at the windowsill, and inhaled sharply when Blaine finally came over to him.
Blaine wrapped his arms around the parts of Kurt that he could reach, and tugged him through the window. The two of them went toppling to the floor, Kurt landing in Blaine's lap as Blaine almost crashed into the desk. Unsure what had gotten into him, Kurt hooked his arms around Blaine's neck and kissed him, whimpering as Blaine lowered his arms to Kurt's waist and drew him closer. Desperately rubbing his mouth against Blaine's as if this would be the last time, Kurt finally pulled away when air became necessary, and he ran his hands over his chiseled face. Bubbles of tears slipped down his cheeks. "Blaine, I thought I would never see you again! What are you doing here?"
When Blaine didn't respond, Kurt finally tore his eyes away, and saw the bag of money that Blaine had taken from the treasurer's desk. Kurt looked back up at Blaine, and noticed, for the first time, the swelling, discolored skin that was spreading from a wide, red gash in Blaine's cheek. "Blaine… what? Are you stealing this money?"
Blaine shook his head, his own eyes filling with tears, "Please, Kurt. I don't have anything. I can't hold a steady job. I haven't worked in two months. My parents won't have anything to do with me. I need this money, or else I'll starve. I've never been this hungry, Kurt. I'm scared—"
Kurt had never heard Blaine say so much all at once, so he knew that the situation had to have been serious. "Shh…" Reaching into his bag, Kurt pulled out a pack of tissues, and blotted Blaine's sweaty face with one of them. "It'll be okay. Here… It's not much, but it'll help." He fished around in his wallet for a pile of cash and stuck it into Blaine's hand, before he continued searching in his bag for the bandages he always carried with him.
Blowing out heavily, Blaine sat on the heels of his hands, and looked at Kurt with a pair of concerned eyes. "You've changed." Kurt lifted his eyes to Blaine again, as he pressed the bandage onto the seeping wound.
Kurt blinked his wet eyes, giving Blaine a weepy smile, "Well, I'm not the child that I once was. I'm grown now."
"I see that." Reaching up, Blaine covered Kurt's hand with his own, holding it against his face. "Kurt… are you married now? O-Or seeing anyone?"
Kurt shook his head, "Only you." Blaine nodded at that, expressing that he had also stayed single, and Kurt leaned closer to him. The two of them kissed again, and then once more, before Blaine pulled back. Kurt sat down on his knees as Blaine brought himself upright, leaving as quickly as he could so no one caught him. "Blaine?" Kurt called after him, suddenly standing and hurrying to his side. He flung his arms around Blaine, pasting another smile onto his face as he tried to control his tears. "Blaine, one day you're going to ask me on a proper date, okay? I'm holding you to that. After our second date, you're going to propose to me. And then we're going to get married."
Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt's, "We're not going to see each other again."
Kurt let out a low sob, taking the hit hard as he realized that Blaine's words might be true. "Just nod your head." Nodding, Blaine smacked his lips to Kurt's, and Kurt whispered shakily, "I love you so much, Blaine."
Letting Blaine go as he hurried over to the door, Kurt wiped his blurry eyes. Blaine paused in the doorway, "Don't wait seven years to find me, okay?"
"Okay." Kurt's tears erupted out of him when Blaine disappeared around the doorway, and he was left by himself. He would have given Blaine his number, his address, his anything, if only he hadn't given all of that up when he went to live with Sebastian. Turning away, Kurt padded over to the window and slid his legs out. Just as he was about to start climbing down, he saw Blaine's dark form run into the inky blackness of an alleyway. "I'll never stop loving you." Kurt whispered to him, hoping his small voice carried to his ears. That was the first time Kurt had ever let a criminal go.