A/N: My first Glee fic! *bounces giddily

So I've been aboard the Klaine ship for a good few years, and today I just thought 'Hot damn Bec, write a bloody story about them already!' And so here you have it; fluff so fluffy it'll keep you in fluff for ages to come.

I know it's tacky to apologise for your shortcomings before people can even read on and find them for themselves, but I just want to make a point to say I'm a British person writing about American teenagers. Man, I have no bloody clue about Americanism's sometimes, though I try my best. So it anyone finds any Britishisms, please berate me accordingly. It was so hard to write 'cell' instead of 'mobile'.

About the fic though, there are brief mentions of Kadam, but fear not Klaine lovers! There is Klaine galore, ga-freaking-lore, to be found here. I also apologise for making Kurt a bit of a perv.

Disclaimer: I can't begin to explain how much I don't own any of Glee. I wish I did, because then I could just hang around Darren Criss all the time and life would be perfect.

And so, please read on and enjoy!

In Pure Pursuit

When Kurt entered the hallowed halls of McKinley High two days after finding out his dad was blissfully cancer free, it's not with the scared trepidation of his youth. He's not weary of people passing with drinks, or of being locker slammed. Heck, he even made it across the parking lot without being dumpster dumped; his younger self would have both marveled and jumped for joy at the very idea.

As it happened, he was jumping for joy. The bounce in his step made him feel like he could walk on air; his dad was okay, he was back with old friends, he was taking a week from the pressures of NYADA and Vouge, life was good. Kurt couldn't even explain why he was so excited for regionals either, it wasn't like he was performing, but he was so excited the thought made him giddy.

It was nice getting to know the new kids; Kitty aside, they all seemed fun and like good people. Blaine certainly had high opinions of all of them. And Blaine's opinion still counted for a lot.

But after spending the morning with his father, to the point where Burt had lost all patience with him and kicked him out of the shop, Kurt had decided to pay his favorite club a visit and maybe help Mercedes with whipping them vocally into shape.

Kurt paused beside some lockers as his cell vibrated to life in his pocket, digging it out he swiped the screen to life,

From: Adam

Hey Kurt just wanted to let you know rehearsals are cancelled nxt week. Richards being a bloody arse about the rehearsal space again. Still great nws about your dad! Have a good time at home.

Kurt smiled, feeling bittersweet as he typed back a quick 'thanks for letting me know' reply. Since their brief relationship had tapered off into its natural conclusion, Kurt had discovered that he liked Adam so much better as a friend. Yes, he'd been overwhelmed by Adam's easy affection, how uncomplicated and casual it all was, but that didn't dispel the wrongness in the pit of Kurt's stomach.

He'd put it down to nerves at first, a unwillingness to get his heart broken again, but there had been one night where he'd known.

Perhaps the night they'd been snowed in and Kurt had dreamed about and longed for Blaine relentlessly, despite having Adam's fingers wrapped around his, should have been the kicker. But no, Kurt realized it all in possibly the most infinitesimal moment.

It was when Adam was leaving the loft one night; he'd bid Kurt goodnight with a chaste peck to the lips and departed. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. Or at least until Kurt realized he didn't want to follow Adam's departure with his eyes, didn't want to clasp at his finger tips until distance literally made it impossible, didn't want just one more kiss, one for the road, one more kiss to tide me over, for good luck, for no goddamn reason at all.

Adam had left his presence and all Kurt did was exhale, like he'd been holding his breath for hours.

Actually, realizing it was sort of a relief.

And though he could see the disappointment in Adam's eyes when he'd told him, the quiet acceptance and I absolutely saw this coming, he held steadfast. They were cordial with each other, bantering, singing and dancing, but there was no love when he looked at Adam. There was no please just one more kiss.

Not like with –

Kurt looked up from his phone, vaguely acknowledging Adam's response as something far nicer filled his line of sight.

Blaine was stood at his locker, texting, clad in a male cheerios uniform.

Well. That was…. Kurt breathed out slowly to calm his racing heart. Because even though they weren't together anymore, even though they may never be again, he could sure as heck appreciate the tight red and white polyester clinging in all the right places to his ex-boyfriend's compact frame. He'd not yet had the pleasure of raking his eyes up and down Cheerio Blaine.

He tried not to leer, he really did, but Blaine's hair looked damp and ruffled and his face was shining and his uniform…. Holy Batman that uniform…

Kurt remembered wearing the exact same uniform and he was reasonably sure he didn't look like this. All lithe limbs, broad shoulders, slim hips and perky behind. And goodness, it was very perky indeed.

He shook his head, clearing all inappropriate and inconsiderate (totally accurate) thoughts away.

Kurt drags his eyes away from all the beautiful perkiness to look at Blaine's face, only to find hazel eyes staring right back at him. Blaine's shock visibly dissolves into smugness when he realizes what Kurt had been doing; he cocks his lovely hip to the side and crosses his arms with a wide grin.

Dirty cute….

"Kurt. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Blaine quirked a brow, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Kurt shrugged, refusing to be bated.

"I'm just a casual outsider, casually observing that that color doesn't do much for your skin tone." Oh, except it did. It so very, very did.

"Thanks," Blaine chuckled, shaking his curly head, and Kurt knew full well that Blaine knew exactly what he was thinking. Well, perhaps not exactly , because Kurt was pretty sure his actual thought had been ohwowohwowthankyoumagicteapotgnomeforactuallymakin gthishappeninreallife.

"But seriously, I thought you were hanging out with your dad today?" Blaine said casually, pulling books from his locker absently. Kurt leaned back on the locker next to Blaine's.

"We had brunch at the pancake place and then I skulked around at the shop for a while before he got annoyed and kicked me out."

Blaine smiled, all white teeth and pretty pink lips, and Kurt (with something akin to elated/flying/buzzing/happyhappyhappy feelings fluttering about from head to toe) was emboldened.

"So, I thought I'd take Mercedes and Mike up on their request to help you guys. I know they've arranged to work with guys during your free period's right? But in the meantime, will you join me for lunch?"

The request wasn't tentative or fearful of mistaking the sudden, comforting atmosphere between them but he knew it was little leaps of faith like this that were slowly but surely knitting them back together. Plus, how could he not enjoy the little spread of color on Blaine's cheeks as he beamed. The younger boy hastily lifted his messenger bag to his shoulder, looking so delighted that Kurt beamed back,

"Yeah! Yeah I'd love to, I – oh." Blaine's face dropped as his brows knit together. Kurt frowned too; Blaine looked at him with big, pleading eyes.

"I have Geography now."

Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"But you haven't had lunch yet right? I remember from when I was on the squad, you have one practice a week during lunch, which means you have an automatic free period afterward."

Blaine shifted sheepishly, in a way Kurt was all too familiar with. He crossed his arms in preparation for being told something he wasn't going to like. The shorter boy rubbed at his neck.

"I know, but I just finished Cheerio practice. Which is why my hair is so, y'know."

Yes, Kurt did know. Slightly damp from a shower, wild and curly and lovely and everything he ever wanted to thread his fingers through. He shook the sexy/unwanted thought away, Blaine was still talking.

" -with the way my schedule has worked out this year, I don't have any frees."

"What? None?"

How the heck was he getting anything done? Kurt remembered vividly, relying upon his multiple frees during his senior year to get work done. Blaine shook his head and pursed his lips.

"Nope; I had to move cheerios practice to lunch for four days a week, which coach Roz loves because it means she gets to leave early, so we could have glee practice for regional's at 5 every day to make sure that everyone could make it. Turns out our time tables clash a lot this year and we still have to fight to get the auditorium sometimes. We can only have glee club on Monday and Thursday afternoons. We try and fit more in when we can."

Kurt tried to add that all up in his head. He was unsatisfied.

"Okay, that sounds great, but I'm still not getting why you have no time for lunch."

Blaine raised his hands up defensively.

"Oh I do! Most days. But I have a lot of clubs to run too, not to mention being student council president."

"Clubs like?"

"I quit a lot of clubs a while ago, but I still keep up with the Zombie Survival club, the AV club and Superhero club. Plus, I've been tutoring a couple of people."

Kurt pushed his hands deep into his pockets, uneasiness settling in his gut. When did Blaine even have time to breath? He chewed on his lip while Blaine fiddled with the strap of his bag: oh yeah, Blaine knew he wasn't happy.

"Okay, ridiculous sounding clubs aside… Zombie Survival, seriously? Superhero club?"

Blaine grinned bashfully and shrugged a 'you never know' shrug. Kurt sighed deeply at just how stupidly cute he could be.

"Blaine, you can't…. I mean I know it's great to have all this stuff on college applications, but you can't run yourself into the ground. It's not healthy."

It makes me worry. It makes me think you might keel over at some point. Probably when I'm not there to pick you back up.

"I… I know. I'm okay, really. I wouldn't take any of this on if I didn't think I could cope."

Kurt looked deeply, intensely, into those honey colored eyes, searching for deception. Blaine looked right back, steadfast and with a small smile. Kurt blinked at leaned back against the locker, relaxing a little.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it for now. I just don't want… I just," the words skipped and then tripped off the tip of his tongue. He swallowed and made what felt like a very serious admission.

"I just want you to always be okay."

Blaine shut his locker slowly, carefully (strangely, Kurt's mind supplied absently) and leaned next to Kurt, bumping his shoulder gently.

"Yeah, I want that for you too."

The silence that followed was comfortable, a careful brush of shoulders and Kurt idly thought that it was nice leaning against a hot guy in school and not worrying about a slushy to the face. He also realized there was only twenty minutes to go before the bell rang. He pondered the easy conversation they'd just engaged in and relished in the easiness of it. Especially the –

Wait.

He furrowed his brow and looked to his locker leaning companion.

"What do you mean you changed the cheerio schedual? The coach does that."

Blaine blinked up at him, confused.

"Coach Roz just kind of assumed I'd do it when she started I guess. I don't know, I just told them when it was going to happen and no one argued."

"And they listened to you? Coach Roz and the Cheerios just let you custom their practice to suit your timetable?"

Because he'd met Kitty and he'd met Coach Roz Washington; needless to say they didn't seem like the congenial, sympathetic type. Blaine shrugged and stood straight, books held to his chest.

"Uh, yeah, I mean, I am Captain so-"

"Hold up. Captain?" Kurt swiftly propelled himself off the locker to face Blaine fully in unadulterated shock. Blaine's head tilted in a stupidly adorable puppy way.

"Yeah, that was part of the deal when Coach Sue made me join. She made me co-captain with Becky."

"Wait, wait, Captain? You're captain of the Cheerios? How did I seriously not know that?!"

Blaine shrugs, an uncomfortable blush rising in his cheeks.

"I guess it never came up."

Kurt shook his head, eyes wide with amazement.

"Wow. Captain of the cheerios, class president, Zombie survival expert. Colleges are going to snap you right up."

The question of NYADA hung in the air like an out of reach butterfly and Kurt fought back to desire to ask, casually remark or insinuate something along the lines of, 'please, please are you still coming? I know you could go anywhere, I know anywhere would be lucky to have you, but you're coming where I'm going to be right? He tried not to look too closely into the bone deep urge to know.

Blaine ducked his head with a wide grin.

"Fingers crossed."

A sly grin lit up Kurt's face as something occurred to him. He leaned back against the lockers nonchalantly, radiating smug. Blaine peered at him curiously, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Why do you suddenly look like you bought an Alexander McQueen piece for a steal?"

"Oh no Blaine, this is possibly much better. In fact, it almost makes all those slushies and locker shoves and dumpster dives worth it. I feel vindicated almost."

"Do you now; can I ask why?"

He grinned sharply,

"Because after all those years of remorseless torment, I did something that none of those blockheads managed, but what they all wanted."

"Oh, please Kurt, don't leave me in suspense." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"I tapped the head cheerleader." Kurt said it like he was pinning a medal to his chest.

Blaine's cheeks lit aflame and he spluttered endearingly.

"You, I wasn't –"

"That's right, I went out with and totally got it on with the head cheerleader. I'm pretty sure I've achieved the gay version of the straight guy dream."

Okay, so the minor technicality was that when they'd been together, of course Blaine hadn't been a Cheerio. And maybe he was being silly and teasing Blaine, but the way the shorter boy shook his head with an amused grin (and lovely pink cheeks) made it all worth it. (Plus, you know, he totally had.)

"Okay so you wanted to get it on with the head cheerleader when you were in highschool? Yeah right, I bet the thought never crossed your mind once."

Kurt felt his own cheeks redden, but he ignored the flutter of restless butterflies and purposefully, teasingly leered his eyes from the curly tips of Blaine's hair to the perfect white of his sneakers.

"Put it this way, if they'd looked like this, I'd have gone to more football games."

Blaine rolled his eyes again with an embarrassed, flattered grin. Because he so knew that even though Kurt was waggling his eye brows stupidly, that he was in fact quite serious. Geeze, if Blaine had been head cheerio when he'd been in highschool…. The thought didn't bare thinking about.

Blaine's grin lit up the hallway.

"I thought you said this was a bad color on me."

"Yeah, it's is, but I never said anything about the fit." And oh, teapotgnome above, that fit….

*BANG*

A loud, sharp noise rent the air of the hallway. Kurt jumped and turned his head swiftly to identify the sound, but the hand that quickly shot out to grab his wrist made him jerk back to his companion.

Blaine's face was white, his lips looked bloodless and the pretty, becoming blush had faded away in what was obviously horror. Kurt's brows furrowed and he looked across the hall to see a skinny freshman quickly scrambling to pick up the large, thick book the boy had clearly dropped.

The hall was silent and Kurt noticed with growing concern that every student seemed to have frozen in panic. He didn't dare breath and break the tense, panicked stillness.

Kurt barely noticed the tight grip on his wrist as he brought his free hand to Blaine's shoulder, drawing the other teen into his body, instinctively shielding him from view. From whose view, he wasn't sure, but Blaine didn't seem to mind as he pressed in closer. His eyes were numb and staring past Kurt at the freshman, breathing shallowly.

A hefty looking jock seemed to shake off his panic first; clearly embarrassed, he hunched his shoulders and scowled menacingly. He shouldered past the terrified freshman and Kurt could only just hear him as he muttered,

" – ever do that a-fucking-gain and I will end you."

The poor guy scurried away, teary eyed, and the spell that seemed to have frozen every student to the floor evaporated. Lockers were tentatively closed (he recalled absently that since he'd returned, he'd not heard the slamming of a single locker), wits were gathered and people shuffled on, more cautiously and slowly.

He turned his attention to Blaine, who's grip on his wrist had gentled, but the tight hold he had on his books left his knuckles white. Blaine swallowed painfully and pursed his lips, staring pointedly at Kurt's broach in an obvious effort to calm himself. Kurt moved his hand to cup underneath Blaine's jaw, tilting his face up.

If his hands shook as he took in how pale Blaine had gone, neither commented.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay; it was nothing, just a kid dropping his books. You're okay, I'm here."

Because he knew about the shooting. Of course he did. That horrible, horrible day when he'd walked out of class and his newly switched on phone had trilled relentlessly. His father, Carol, Finn. Messages like Call me, don't watch the news. Why aren't you answering? If you've found out, everyone's okay. No one's hurt. Blaine's okay.

He'd nearly dropped his bag in his haste to call his father because why the fuck would he not be okay?

The phone call had made him slump onto a bench, feeling empty and deflated. Feeling terrified. Blaine was okay, his father had seen him with his own eyes as he'd walked through the school doors into the arms of his pale, shaken parents.

Kurt stared at the top of Blaine's curly head.

He remembered calling Blaine, his fingers feeling fat and cold as he tried to find that beloved, familiar number. He remembered a night of are you okay? Please be okay?, of Blaine's voice shaky, teary, reassuring as he all but begged Kurt to just please, I can't talk about it.

Blaine sucked in a deep breath, retreating marginally from Kurt's tight hold.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it was weeks ago. I'm being stupid." He didn't meet Kurt's eyes as he tried to shove his books into his messenger bag. Kurt's frown deepened and he reached up to hold firm onto Blaine's quivery shoulders. Blaine looked up, eyes big and young and weary.

"You are not being stupid. What happened to you all was awful; one of the scariest experience I can't even begin to imagine going through. So don't you minimize what happened to you."

Blaine shrugged under his hands, smile shaky.

"But nothing did happen. It was just Coach Sylvester being her usual crazy self."

Kurt ducked his head and forced Blaine to meet his eyes.

"You were terrified out of your minds for nearly an hour, you didn't know it was her."

Blaine's mouth moved soundlessly before he nodded,

"Yeah, yeah I know. It's just, it's quiet here now. People are scared to slam lockers, doors. No one talks too loudly. It's… unsettling. " It sounded like a confession.

Against his better judgment (or perhaps giving into it, a little voice trilled) he stepped forward again to wrap an arm across Blaine's shoulders and over his ribs, tugging him into a tight, warm embrace, enveloping him against the world as best he could. Blaine pressed his forehead into Kurt's shoulder when the older boy pressed a kiss into his hair, winding his arms tight around Kurt's back.

"This is exactly what I wanted to do that day, when I found out. I just wanted to run back to Lima and hide you away somewhere with me. Is that stupid?"

Blaine laughed a little breathlessly into his neck.

"Not stupid at all. That's all I wanted too."

A moment passed before the hug seemed to reach its natural conclusion. Blaine pulled away, color back in his cheeks even though his eyes still looked tired. He seemed to look at Kurt consideringly, like he was trying to gage if Kurt could keep a secret. He bit his lip and tried to look really goddamn trustworthy.

"We… Artie wanted to make videos when we were trapped."

"Videos?"

"Yeah, like, goodbye videos. To parents, friends, to say goodbye. Get secrets off your chest, that sort of thing."

He said it so casually that it made Kurt shudder to his bones.

"Did you make one?" He really, really didn't want to know, not really. But a tiny part of him, the little part of him that hoped and wished and believed wanted to know. Did you want to tell me anything?

But Blaine shook his head.

"No, I didn't. Couldn't. All I could think about was just, just never saying goodbye."

Oh. Oh. Kurt breathed in deeply, trying to steady himself. He pressed his lips into a smile, feeling his heart pounding in his chest like a caged bird.

"I'm really glad you didn't. I wouldn't have-"

*BRRRRRRRRRIIIII* *BRRRRRRRRRRRIII *BRRRRRRRRRRRII

They both jumped that time, the bell ringing unpleasantly to life. Blaine looked down the hall, Kurt looked at their hands, wondering when they'd intertwined.

"I – I should get to class."

Kurt reached out with his other hand to clasp at their already interlinked fingers, suddenly very desperate to keep Blaine with him.

"Skip. Come to lunch with me." Please. And Kurt was obviously in no way looking to selfishly indulge in uninterrupted Blaine time. No; he knew Blaine probably hadn't eaten since breakfast, it was his duty as Blaine's... friend… to make sure he ate. He subtly eyed Blaine's trimmer than ever waist, the slimmer cut of his hips.

Blaine bit his lip, face the picture of uncertainty. Kurt felt the shorter boys fingers shift in his own, Blaine's thumb rubbed against Kurt's ring finger absently.

He was pretty sure his face would ache with the smile that stretched across it when Blaine's mouth curled mischievously, honeyed eyes bright and so stunningly beautiful.

Kurt couldn't give less of a damn that he wasn't supposed to think things like that anymore, because Blaine squeezed his hands once, then tilted his head toward the doors.

"Breadsticks?"

Kurt grinned, "Only if I get to pay."

"But – "

"I won't take no for an answer Mr Head Cheerleader. Besides, you look like you need to be fattened up."

He moved to pinch teasingly at the non exsistent body fat at Blaine's firm hip, but the younger boy shifted away gracefully, dancing away toward the exit with a laugh that reminded Kurt of butterflies and warm mornings under the covers.

Kurt follows with a smile and a hand in Blaine's grip. He sheds his reservations like an out of fashion coat, his heart feels full and there's a tiny, beautiful hope for the future unfurling in his chest.