A/N: Hey guys, so here's chapter two! I'm still a little rusty with this story, I hope you enjoy nonetheless! Oh, also there's a scene in this that doesn't involve Blaine, so it just switches to third-person. Just in case you're confused! And, if you wouldn't mind, your opinion on something else? I already have a Tumblr, but I was wondering if I should make one for just my stories mainly? Feedback is much appreciated, as is feedback on the chapter! Enjoy! :)

"Jesus, Ash. You look like shit."

Luke and I had just arrived at the hospital. All the other Bad Kids were there, so we were the last to arrive. Ash looked wrecked. He looked like shit, like my brother said.

"Oh, Luke," Ash said in a mockingly sweet tone, "you were always one with the compliments."

Luke grinned, "You're lucky to be alive, 'yknow," giving his friend a clap on the shoulder when he reached the hospital bed.

"Hey, B," Ash smiled at me, and I smiled back.

"Hey," I gave him a little wave, "you gotta stop gettin' into trouble like this, Ash. You could end up dead."

Ash rolled his eyes, "First Fitch, now you?"

"See, Ash, I'm not the only one who worries! If you weren't such an asshole I wouldn't have to, you wouldn't have to suffer all my whinin'!" Fitch protested from the chair close to Ash's bed.

Fitch was Ash's best friend. Another Bad Kid, as you would've guessed. Fitch is sweet. He acts sweeter than a lot of us. He cares about everyone, and he isn't afraid to show it like the rest of us. I'm real fond of Fitch. Everyone is.

"Don't worry your head, Fitch. He's alive, ain't he?" Topper ruffled Fitch's hair, Fitch responding with a tiny "leave my hair, Topper!"

"When're you allowed out?" Bandit asked.

"A week to two weeks," Fitch answered before Ash could, and we all laughed a little.

"We're gonna miss you at the bar," Puck told Ash, and Ash smirked, flattered.

Oh, I should tell you about Puck. Puck's another Bad Kid. He's got a funny mohawk. Puck's real nice too, but sort of in a different way than Fitch. He's got the hots for Quinn Fabray, but she's a classy lady. She hangs around with Kurtsie Fox and Rachel Berry and people like that. She wouldn't date Puck. But he never stops trying, and I admire him for that.

"Oh, you won't miss me that much. All I do is smoke and drink and bum around the place," Ash replied.

"Heh. Like we do any different," Bandit laughed.

"We'll miss you bein' there, Ash. 'Course we will," Topper added, "especially Fitch."

"Shut your trap, Topper!" Fitch fumed, "I'll be just fine!"

"You'll be "just fine" when you're jerkin' off to a picture of him in your wallet," I teased, and Fitch shot me a glare.

"Stop it, B!" he whined, "I don't have a picture of you in my wallet, Ash, and I certainly don't jerk off to it!" he responded to Ash's curious look, and Ash snickered.

"Sure you don't," he said sarcastically, and we held in our laughter.

"Y'all are bullies, y'know that? Bullies!" Fitch snapped, crossing his arms in a huff. Fitch was always over-dramatic and flustered. It was adorable.

"Aw, we're not, Fitch. You're takin' this too serious," Slick re-assured him with a amused smirk.

"We joke, Fitch. You know we do. Take that silly pout off your face," Luke told him with a smile.

We had to do this a lot. Snap Fitch out of his hissy fits.

Fitch had a little blush on his cheeks, but he got rid of that silly pout, "Now, y'all were really just joking, right?"

"Of course," Puck said, "Fitch, dude, the only one who jerks off to photos is B."

"Really, Puck? Really? We're just passin' along the hate?" I sighed, but I was smirking.

"Don't think we haven't found that photo of Kurtsie Fox you have?" Slick said, and I felt heat rising to my face.

"Unless that substance was, um, I don't know, shampoo or somethin'," Bandit chuckled.

"You guys suck. You guys fucking suck," I said with my voice raised, laughing afterwards.

I buried my head in my hands, and all the guys laughed around me.

They were such fucking jerks, but I loved them.

We had work at the bar that night, and we had just arrived, me an' Luke.

"Anderson,"

That was Sebastian. Sebastian Smythe. He was a high-class guy, but he liked to hang with us Bad Kids. He was real tight with Topper, I'm pretty sure they were fuck buddies too.

The high-class kids still hung out with him, but they weren't as close and friendly with him. Because he liked being with us, of course.

"your little boyfriend's on tonight," he added with a cheeky grin.

Literally everyone knew about my crush on Kurtsie, by the way. Even fucking Kurtsie knew.

"Your boyfriend should be here any minute. He picked me up in his car," I smirked.

"Sebastian!"

Speak of the devil, there was Topper. He ran upto Sebastian and nearly knocked him over with a strong hug, and Sebastian gladly hugged back.

"Hey, I haven't seen you in days!" Topper said excitedly, and Sebastian laughed into his shoulder.

"Cheeky fucker over there said you were my boyfriend," Sebastian pointed to me after he ended his very long hug with Topper.

Topper laughed a little, "Now, come on, B. Everyone knows,"

"We don't do relationships," they said in unison, then broke into uproarious laughter. Oh, sure, saying your cute little catchphrase in unison wasn't gay at all. Puttin' your hand around Topper's waist ain't gay at all, Bas. And that arm around Sebastian's neck, Topper. Oh no, that's totally hetero. I just rolled my eyes and got to the bar, started serving people.

"B! Hey," Fitch was at the bar, sipping a rum and coke, "Kurtsie Fox is performing tonight."

"I know. Bas told me," I replied, cleaning some beer glasses.

"You'll never guess who's here tonight." Bandit suddenly appeared at the other side of the bar.

"Kurtsie? Yeah, I know."

"Hey, B?" Puck called as he passed by, "I just ran into -"

"Kurtsie Fox. He's performing tonight, yeah."

I was practically waiting for someone else to tell me about Kurtsie Fox. Not only did everyone know about my crush, they constantly persecuted me about it.

"Hey, B?"

"Yeah, Kurtsie's here tonight, I know."

"Well, actually... Kurtsie's sittin' right behind you, Mr. Broody."

I spun around and was met by the face of Kurtsie Fox, - oh god, that face - smirking and giving me a wave.

"Hey Kurtsie," I babbled, almost tripping over my words.

"Hey, B. I just need some water before I perform. I know I should have some but-"

"Nah, it's fine," I cut in, running to the bar sink and getting him some water.

I handed him the glass and he took it, and grabbed my hand with his free hand.

"What're you doing?" I asked, my expression confused.

"You can come see my show," Kurtsie laughed a little as he said this, "take a break off work."

"Kurtsie, I just got here,"

"You're a Bad Kid. Don't you break the rules?" he looked back at me with a wink and a smirk.

Fuck.

I returned the smirk and nodded, "I suppose you're right."

"Good! Now," he dragged me through the crowds around the stage, and placed me in a chair very close to the stage, "you get front row seats. Enjoy the Kurtsie show! I'll be out in, like, five."

He ran backstage, and I just sat, waiting. Kurtsie wanted me to watch him perform. He plonked me down in the front row. Maybe he was more interested in me than I thought he was.

"You! Why are you here?"

As I thought, Rachel Berry stood behind me. I could practically feel her glaring me down.

I turned around and smirked, "Hello, darlin'-"

"Answer my question!"

I looked behind her to see all her high-class skanks were with her - Santana Lopez, Sugar Motta, Quinn Fabray. And then there were the guys - Jesse St. James and Finn Hudson. They not only hated the Bad Kids, but they also hated each other. You should see their bickers, it's fuckin' hilarious.

"Kurtsie invited me," I shrugged, and all four girls rolled their eyes, or sighed, or made disgusted noises, or some shit. And almost at the same time, too.

"Why would Kurtsie invite you?" Santana spat, like I was the fuckin' Anti-Christ or somethin'.

"I dunno. He told me to wait here until he came on stage," I informed them, and I had to bite back my laughter at their behavior. The instantaneous appalled reactions if I said as much as a word. I bet I could cough or somethin' and they'd let out a big, dramatic sigh. Priceless.

"He's always been a little more... adventurous than us," Finn pointed out.

"He talks to those assholes at the bar, and he chats quite a lot with this one," Jesse added. "This one" was me, I assumed.

"He's just going to get himself into trouble, I don't see why he talks to them," Quinn muttered.

"But, look at me," I gave her a sickly sweet expression, "I'm sweet as pie, honey."

She just gave me a glare and looked away.

I heard Sugar about to pipe up, but she was interrupted by music.

A spotlight appeared, and there was Kurtsie, playing the opening notes to his first song.

He played a little longer and then accompanied the piano with vocals.

His voice was so perfect.

Come and open up your folding chair next to me,
My feet are buried in the sand and there's a breeze,
There's a shadow, you can't see my eyes,
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies.

At this point, Kurtsie leapt up from the piano chair. Another guy ran from backstage and took over the piano. Kurtsie took the microphone stand, center stage, and continued to sing.

Let's get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy,
I'll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you'll grafitti up his toys.

I could've sworn for a second he looked at me. I was probably dreaming. My mind was taken right off my previous thoughts when I saw what he was doing now. He took his hands from the microphone stand and started sort of... carressing his body. Oh man.

I've got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget,
I've got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat,
Yes, they do, they do.

He felt down the sides of his torso and all the way down to his hips, with this guilty look on his face. Like he'd done something wrong. It's like the fucker was trying to get me hard.

Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh

As he sang this part, Kurtsie left the microphone stand and just took the microphone. He got off the stage and began walking around the bar, singing to customers and staff around the place.

Now I've been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide come in to take me home
I get scared, and I'm sitting here alone
Dreaming of the dolphin song...

He sang this part to his high-class friends, and he got mixed reactions. Finn and Quinn smiled and cheered him on, Santana and Sugar gave him a smile at least, but Jesse and Rachel just looked unimpressed.

Kurtsie quickened his pace now, running around the bar and singing to random strangers. Old men, young ladies, kids, anyone. I think I even saw him singing to Bandit.

Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh

As I looked around for Kurtsie, my little skipping princess - wait a sec, did I just say that? - I spotted something else quite interesting.

Sebastian and Topper were headed into the bathrooms together, hand-in-hand. Both looked a little tipsy. I wonder what they had planned.

I smirked. I'm sure it was something one-hundred-percent hetero.

But that's when I looked away. Because Kurtsie was singing. He was singing to me.

Maybe one day you will understand.
That I want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand,

He gave me a pouty face and moved closer, still singing.

Till that day just please don't be so down,
Don't make frowns, you silly clown.

He smiled at me, there was a short pause in the song, and then he went on skipping through the bar, singing. Man. He just did things to me.

Just come and open up your folding chair next to me,
My feet are buried in the sand and there's a breeze,
There is a shadow, you can't see my eyes,
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies.

He ran back up to the stage and the microphone stand as the song finished. He was tired from all that running around, but he sang the last two lines, his voice breathy,

There's a shadow, you can't see my eyes
There's a shadow, you can't see my eyes.

Topper and Sebastian stumbled into the bathrooms, their hands loosely joined together. They had had a drink or two, and they were tipsy, but not full-on drunk.

"I have to... piss," Sebastian mumbled to Topper, and Topper nodded, smirking. The brunette found a stall and walked in clumsily, not even locking the door.

It had been twenty seconds at the most until Sebastian came calling from the stall,

"Topper! I need help in the cubicle!"

Topper laughed quietly, "What could you possibly need help with?"

"Just... c'mere," Sebastian slurred. Topper wasn't as intoxicated as Sebastian was. Sebastian was disorientated. He was giggly and hyper and clumsy.

Topper rolled his eyes and did as he was told, finding Sebastian's cubicle and knocking on the door.

"It's open, idiot," came Sebastian's reply, with an hysterical laugh following.

As he opened the cubicle door, he heard Sebastian repeat "you'll never guess, Topper... you'll never guess what it is. You'll never guess, you'll n-never guess, seriously."

Topper opened the door and was a little shocked at what he found.

"Surpriiiiiise!" Sebastian yelled in drunken excitement.

He was sitting on the toilet seat, his pants down at his ankles. His underwear was at his ankles, too, and his legs were spread pretty wide.

"Woah," Topper breathed, and he could feel himself blushing.

"Wwwwelcome to the Sebastian Smythe show!" Sebastian's drunk voice was funny. It was thick and groany and it cracked and broke, he tripped over all his words, "The price for a blowjob is one kiss," he held up one finger, "because this is a great cock."

Topper smirked, didn't hesitate, and kissed Sebastian hard on the mouth.

"You were real good tonight."

Kurtsie was going outside for a smoke and he - again - invited me to come with him.

Now we were just hanging around outside the bar, looking at the stars with cigarettes and making conversation.

"Bet you could say that every night if you could, Blaine Anderson," Kurtsie said with a little laugh, "judgin' by the little charmer you are."

I laughed, "I can't help it if you're stupidly talented, Kurtsie."

"Kurt."

I looked over at him, and he smiled.

"My name's Kurt. My friends call me Kurt."

I knew his name was Kurt. What I didn't know is that he considered me his friend.

"...Friends?" I mumbled, and Kurtsie - um, Kurt - laughed out loud.

"Yeah, dummy," he teased, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke, "you think I hang out with you because I don't like you? You're my friend."

I frowned, "You're high-class, Kurt. You shouldn't be hangin' around with a Bad Kid like me. I'll take away your sweetness and stuff. I'll make you a depressing bastard like all of us."
Kurtsi - Kurt laughed again, and what a lovely laugh that was, "You sound just like my friends, B. They're making you think all those silly thoughts."

I smirked, "Yeah, I guess so. But I don't want you to lose all your friends because of me."

"Don't you want me?" Kurt asked, his tone dropped and his voice became real serious all of a sudden. He cupped my cheek in his hand and looked into my eyes, and it felt funny. But it felt natural.

"Of course I want you. Everyone knows I want you. You know I want you. Kurts- Kurt, I would grab you the first chance I got if I could," I told him almost instantaneously after his question, "I'm just afraid you'll lose everything. Because everyone... disapproves."

Kurt laughed another time, and pulled my face closer,

"Then I wonder how bat shit they'll go when they hear about this."

He leaned in and crashed our lips together, laughing into the kiss.

I couldn't believe it. Kurtsie Fox - uh, I mean, Kurt Hummel - was kissing me.

And I kissed him right back.