A/N: thank you to hpswst101, EmmaTheSpottedBat, NotSorry, VampHime, thebloodrose, the darkness revealed, jimmy-barnes-13, MeIzzyBambi27, The End of the Old Beginnings, ikffrox, KaelynnLovesGerard, Evil Beware We Have Waffles, forbiddengrace, Powerlad, BreathexFreely, PatrickHenry77, njferrell, xSadistxFujix, and Dear Near Scary.
This chapter is dedicated to: happyinchintz72, Theresa Hart, and Emily Maddox, for your awesome reviews.
YOU GUYS ARE SO FREAKING AWESOME. OKAY?
SPOOOIIIILLLLEEEEER ALLLLEEEERRRRT!
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OKAY!
Who was wicked upset about the way Blaine acted in last night's episode? I know I was! I mean, wtf, he goes from being all "wow-Kurt-that's-so-weird-we-both-love-Vogue-and-read-the-same-books-and-we're-both-gay-so-let's-get-in-bed-together" to "I'm-gonna-be-all-prep-school-douchebaggy-and-kind-of-ignore-you-but-give-you-cryptic-advice-about-a-frikkin-bird-to-make-you-feel-the-tiniest-bit-better-about-ending-up-at-a-school-where-everyone's-the-same".
I mean HONESTLY? Kurt got so shut down by Wes! Did anyone imagine Dalton being a little bit different, more fun, more spontaneous (just from the Never Been Kissed episode- I mean, they can't write in that the Warblers like to randomly throw in impromptu performances and not expect the fans to go crazy imagining all the fun times Dalton boys get up to).
I AM SEVERELY DISAPPOINTED IN WES AND THAT IS ALL.
Disclaimer: stop making me do this. I don't own Glee, okay?
"... Rent at the community playhouse, and Blaine got us tickets." -Episode 2.7, The Subsitute.
"You look great." Blaine grinned as Kurt answered his door.
Kurt stuck out his tongue. "You're early, I haven't finished my hair yet. You do not have permission to tease."
"Ah, but I wasn't." the corner of Blaine's mouth twitched. "You really do look wonderful. I like the disheveled look on you."
Oh God, he had not just said that in a total "I-want-in-your-pants-NOW" voice.
Luckily, it seemed as if Kurt hadn't noticed. He was running his hands through his hair, attempting to flatten it without any product.
"Okay, come in," he said. "You can... I don't know, talk to my dad or something while I fix my hair."
Blaine shuddered inwardly. He would rather face the Spanish Inquisition (nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition) than Kurt's sure-to-be overprotective father. "Why don't I just come with you?"
Kurt blinked. "To my room?"
Blaine nodded.
"Oh. Okay." He nodded a little awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, before moving towards the nearest door. "It's downstairs."
Blaine followed Kurt down the stairs to his basement room, settling himself on the bed that looked to be the cleanest.
One side of the room was immaculate- that had to be Kurt's. The other side, well- there was a sock hanging over a lampshade, a half-empty pizza box lying open on the bed, and dirty clothes scattered everywhere. The outline of a greasy handprint shone on the wall. That half had to belong to Finn, the almost step-brother Blaine had heard so much about.
"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized, already in front of the mirror, running product through his hair. "Finn is... a Neanderthal. But he's getting better."
A door slammed above them and Blaine looked up reflexively. Kurt, who had jumped at the sound, rolled his eyes. "Finn's home."
A surprisingly girly voice rang out above them, and Kurt winced. "So is Rachel."
Blaine grinned. Kurt had told him all about Rachel Berry, female lead vocalist and Diva Extraordinare of New Directions. The voice didn't stop. "Does she normally talk this much?"
"Talk, or sing, or cry, or complain... actually, most of Glee is spent listening to Rachel make some sort of noise," Kurt said, spraying his hair with something, then turning to look at Blaine. "Let's go, before she does any more damage to my eardrums."
Blaine laughed. "After you, my good sir."
They managed to sneak past Rachel and Finn, who were necking on the couch (Blaine laughed for a good five minutes when Kurt used that word to describe his step-brother and arch-rival's activities), and into the car. Blaine courteously opened the passenger side door for Kurt. He could've sworn he saw the other boy's cheeks darken, but quickly wrote it off as wishful thinking.
The drive to the theater consisted mostly of listening to Blaine fiddling with the radio until he found a Christmas music station, and Kurt complaining that while it was still November that simply shouldn't be allowed and he shouldn't be subjected to that kind of torture until the week before Christmas.
They pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes before the play was scheduled to begin, next to a forest-green Dodge that looked horribly familiar.
Blaine felt the muscles in his jaw begin to jump, but forced himself to stay calm. Plenty of people have that car, he reminded himself as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. It doesn't mean... and then he spied the small stuffed platypus resting on the dash of the car.
I am going to kill them, he thought.
"What's wrong, Blaine?"
"Nothing," Blaine said tersely, so distracted that he didn't even think about the fact that maybe holding hands with Kurt (which had somehow just happened) wasn't something a mentor should do.
Blaine should have known they'd go through his desk and find the tickets. He should have known they'd buy their own, and fight for the two seats right beside him and Kurt. He'd sort of been hoping, though, that he was just terribly mistaken- until they walked into the theater and he saw them, chatting amicably in seats 24 and 25 E.
"Our tickets say Row E, seats 22 and 23," Kurt said, but Blaine wasn't listening.
"I'm going to apologize now for what is about to go down," Blaine murmured to Kurt. "You must understand that this was not my idea, I in no way endorsed this, and although I am not a violent person I am very seriously contemplating murder at the moment."
"What do you-" then Kurt saw them. "Oh."
"Yes." Blaine marched himself and Kurt over to their seats. "Leung, Valore, you better have amazing excuses as to why you're here."
"Blaine!" Wes Leung exclaimed, hopping out of his seat.
"Kurt!" David Valore added, popping up beside him.
"How absolutely spiffing!" The two cried together as if rehearsed, beaming at Blaine and Kurt.
Blaine heard Kurt stifle a giggle.
"What strange sort of coincidence brings you to this theater on this fine night to watch-" here Wes checked his program- "Rent with us?"
"And by our seats, as well!" David said in what he clearly thought was an innocent tone, snatching the tickets out of Blaine's hand and reading them as if he hadn't already read and copied the seat numbers down.
"Do you even like Rent?" Blaine asked, folding his arms.
"Of course we do!" David cried, flailing wildly. "It's our favorite show!"
"What's it about, then?" Kurt piped up.
"Cross-dressers," said Wes, proudly. David elbowed him.
The lights dimmed, then returned to normal.
Blaine sighed. "Time to take our seats." He ushered Kurt into seat 22, making eye-contact with David and drawing a line across his throat with his finger.
David gulped.
Blaine settled back and tried to relax and enjoy the play, but it was nearly impossible to do so with all his conflicting emotions.
On one hand, he wanted to smash Wes and David's grinning faces in.
On the other hand, he could hardly suppress the urge to reach out and touch the boy sitting beside him- the boy who'd been watching the actors on stage with a smile so perfect it kind of hurt Blaine's chest to look at it.
It wasn't until nearly the end of the play that Blaine felt a foot connect with his, sending bolts of pain up his leg.
He turned to his left to glare at Wes, who was giving him a stern look that Blaine had long since learned to interpret as "Bathroom now". He whispered his excuse to Kurt, then followed Wes out of the theater as quietly as possible.
"What?" He hissed as soon as the bathroom door swung shut behind them.
Wes leaned against the sinks, folding his hands in a way that somehow reminded Blaine simultaneously of Dumbledore and a bad therapist. "You're angry."
"No shit, Sherlock. Why the hell are you here, and why the hell did you just tell me to follow you to the bathroom?"
"You get with him yet?"
"Uh, no," Blaine said, sarcastically, "Maybe because any semblance of this being a date disappeared when you two showed up!"
"Kurt doesn't seem to mind."
"Kurt is too polite to say what he feels."
"You'll thank us one day."
"No, I won't," said Blaine. "Furthermore, I have decided that your actions tonight deserve some payback. So I've decided to tell Emily and Jennica that you two cried like babies when Angel died."
Wes' jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."
Blaine smiled, a very sinister smile. "I already did."
-xxKurtxBlainexx-
"So that was... interesting," Kurt said, as they were getting in the car.
"I can't apologize to you enough," Blaine said, turning the key in the ignition. "They were way out of line."
"I like them," Kurt interjected, and then blushed a little when Blaine looked at him. "Wes and David. I mean, they're nice. And they like me."
"Of course they like you," Blaine said, nonplussed. "Who wouldn't?"
"Most people," Kurt said.
Oh. Blaine could hit himself. "Those people..." He chose his words carefully. "Those people are ignorant, Kurt. They're so eager to slap a label on people that they can't look past one characteristic to see so many other wonderful characteristics about that person. They decided early on that 'gay' was you, and decided that was somehow bad, and that was all you were. You know that you are so much more than that."
Kurt let out a puff of air. "Honestly, I can't figure out what your flaws are," he admitted. "Especially when you make speeches like that."
Blaine felt the back of his neck burn. "I have flaws, Kurt."
"I'll believe that when I see it," Kurt muttered, then changed the subject. "Anyway, I like Wes and David. But I do wish it had been just us."
Was Kurt...?
"Me too," Blaine said quietly, and in the dark of the car, their hands brushed.
A/N: Thank you all for being so marvelous, and don't forget to review!
