Heey! First of all, thank you for everyone following, favoriting and reviewing this. Means a lot. Second, here, have a third chapter!
xXxXx
Source: www . people . com
Trouble in the playground?
Listen, up, listen up! Kurt Hummel, seventeen year old son of newly announced presidential candidate Sen. Burt Hummel, has recently transferred from public school in Lima, Ohio, to all-boys Dalton Academy in Washington DC. The juicy details? It just so happens that it's the exact same school that another presidential candidate and senator's son, Blaine Anderson (also seventeen) attends. So far, no word on how the school or the boys deal with the inevitable divide. Will there be a parallel run for Senior Class President? Will they spice things up in the running for the White House and help us make things all the more interesting? We don't know, but there's sure to be some juice coming out of this, am I right? Oh, how I wish I could be a fly on those walls.
xXxXx
Monday starts off bizarre. Unlike with Blaine, everyone just stares at Kurt. Kurt eyes them confused, sends a few small smiles to the few boys he recognizes and straightens his bag on his shoulder.
He spots Blaine waiting by his locker, hands in pockets, leaning against the metal doors. Their eyes meet and they beam at each other. Kurt even laughs because this whole thing is ridiculous.
He reaches his locker and Blaine slaps his shoulder amiably "How does it feel?"
"You're real happy the focus is off you, aren't you?"
Blaine chuckles "A little." He admits "But then again, it's only half off me." He shrugs with one shoulder.
"At least they were giving you high fives and congratulating. Me… they're just… staring."
"Well, they already know me." Blaine reasons "They don't feel as guilty trying to pretend being my friends."
Kurt smiles sympathetically because he can see the edge of bitterness in his eyes "Come on, we'll be late for class. And I do not want to run into Wes on the way there. I'm pretty sure he's gonna have a nervous breakdown if he sees us."
Blaine laughs "That is very accurate." He says "But he's had it already, we're safe. He called me on Saturday morning – woke me up, by the way - babbling about how everyone was gonna know we were both at Dalton and it was just a matter of time before the warblers became involved and there was no way we could mess up now…"
"What? Was he planning on messing up before?" Kurt rolls his eyes.
"My point exactly…" Blaine sighs "But he does have a point… I guess there will be reporters there… That certainly adds some pressure."
"I think there might be reporters there if it was just you, anyway." Kurt stops at the door, letting Blaine go in first "I guess we'll just have to kill it, either way."
As Kurt enters his classroom everyone is looking right at him, including the teacher. Once everyone is seated and looking expectantly ahead the teacher finally clears his throat.
"As I'm sure most of you have noticed Dalton is now in an unusually prestigious position. It finds itself the home of Mr. Hummel and Mr. Anderson, both having their fathers candidates for presidency of the United States." He pauses and Kurt's already hoping the ground will open and swallow him whole "As such, circumstances lead me to remind you of the confidentiality and discretion policy you have all signed upon enrolling Dalton. Anyone talking to, leaking or, god forbid, selling any sort of information to the media will face disciplinary measures that may include expulsion." He pauses again, for effect "Do I make myself clear? Now, this very speech is being repeated across every classroom in this school, and we expect nothing but the most exemplary behavior from our students."
It's mortifying.
Class feels like he's stuck on a stage, spotlight on him with absolutely no script or concept and the audience is full of the toughest critics. All day it gets absolutely no better.
Lunch is as close to normal as it gets. He sits with Blaine, David and Wes, and just like the previous Monday they do their best to keep off the obvious topic. Kurt's actually pretty thankful for the three of them – with the amount of stares and whispers he's getting, they're the only think keeping him from thinking he's grown three heads over night.
They fall into conversation about football and whatever again. Kurt mostly watches them, rather than listen to them.
David wears this ridiculous grin on his face all the time. He's so easily excited that it reminds Kurt of a five year old on a sugar high. Wes is almost the opposite, though, all tight smiles, sarcastic shrugs and quirked eyebrows. But Kurt recognizes more and more signs of genuine amusement each moment that goes by.
Blaine is… Blaine. His smiles should be winning awards everywhere. And his laughter is magic. And his eyes. His eyes are made of gold, but shine as bright as the sunlight and feel as warm as a fireplace on a cold winter's night, and when they're looking at Ku- they're looking at Kurt!
Kurt shakes his head and tunes back again, just as Blaine frowns amusedly "Kurt?"
"Yeah! Sorry!" He gasps out. It isn't until a hand pats his shoulder that he notices Wes and David have left their seats.
"See you later, Kurt!" they call over their shoulders.
Kurt waves before turning back to Blaine who's looking at him with a questioning smile.
"What?" Kurt blushes.
Blaine chuckles "Just wondering where you'd gone, just now…" he shakes his head and waves his hand dismissively.
"Oh, you were talking about football and sports, and I just… tuned out. I'm sorry." Kurt shrugs.
"Oh." Blaine says, and he sounds a little disappointed. Why does he sound a little disappointed?
"Why do you sound a little disappointed?"
Blaine seems to catch himself off guard, maybe he hadn't realized he'd let his feelings show "Oh… huh… not disappointed, but… I was kind of hoping you had been serious about… the soccer games… because… we're… playing this weekend." Blaine's rambling and it's so cute and Kurt should stop it but he can't "And Wes, Nick and Jeff are on the team too, so, like… and we were thinking we'd go for a movie afterwards, either celebrate if we win or… you know, forget humiliation and stuff, if we lose. But, hum, I was kind of hoping you'd come. Watch the game, I mean. And then you could join us for that movie. I'd – I mean – the guys would like that." Blaine scratched the back of his head "But… I mean, if you want.. you don't… If you're not into soccer, I get it. I just… you said that, and I was kind of hoping you meant it… But it's cool if you… if you didn't."
Kurt controls his laughter, but can't help the grin on his face "Sure." He shrugs
"S-sure?" Blaine eyes him confused.
"Yeah, I did mean it the other day. I'd love to go." He says cheerfully.
"Oh. Great!" Blaine gasps out, surprised "Awesome!"
Kurt chuckles "Yeah, awesome. The rambling was cute, though." He's not really sure where he got the nerve to say that, but if Blaine can flirt, so can he. Whatever that might mean.
Blaine blushes at once. Kurt thinks it's the first time he's ever seen Blaine blush and it's too adorable for his own good. "Yeah, hum…" Blaine mumbles, hand back to the back of his neck "We should, huh, we should go… we'll be late for class."
Kurt smiles, nods and gets up, waiting for Blaine.
xXxXx
"Wes…" Blaine whispers "You awake?"
He can practically hear his roommate's eye roll. "No."
"I think I sort of almost asked Kurt out on a date." He says all the same.
"How do you sort of almost ask someone out on a date?"
"I was going to casually ask him if he was interested in watching our game on Saturday and going to the movies afterwards – it was really just going to be a friendly invite… but for some reason my brain disconnected with my mouth and I just started rambling and I may have implied that I really wanted him there… it was pathetic."
"You're pathetic, Blaine. It's to be expected." Wes snickers.
"Shut up!" he blindly throws a pillow towards the general direction of Wes' bed, but it seems to collide with wall.
"I was quiet. You woke me up, remember?" Wes sighs "And it's not like I can say much that will help you, anyway. What would I say? Don't worry I think he doesn't like you back…?" there's a sigh and some sheets rustling "He totally does."
"He does?"
"Blaine." Wes says sternly "He was staring at you for the entire lunch."
"That's… That's…"
"Blaine, just own it and be happy for it. You like a guy and he likes you back. In any other world that'd be a good thing, buddy. Just bask in the glory of that for tonight and worry about your dad and his stupid campaign tomorrow." Wes's voice soften "You deserve that, Blaine. You deserve to be happy."
Blaine smiles to himself "Thank you…"
"Yeah… Anytime."
"You really think he likes me?"
There's a heavy sigh "Good night. Blaine."
Blaine can't sleep though. All he can think about is 'does he? Does he like me? Does he? Does he?!'. Every part of their rehearsals and practices is replayed in his mind. Every little smile and joke, and, oh, touch! Every single touch! Like that one time Kurt took Blaine's shoulders and jostled him a little bit and squeezed for second just before he let go. Or when they were sitting side by side, going over the lyrics, working out verse distribution, and their knees kept touching, and then Blaine couldn't help it, and before he got up he squeezed Kurt's knee (knee! It totally wasn't higher than that! It wasn't thigh, no way, no how… it was knee!).
Everything is bigger, brighter and better now. And just for tonight Blaine lets his imagination run wild. Because how cool would it be if he could just reach out and take Kurt's hand in that dark cinema room.
Because, as shy and bad at romance as Blaine is, he thinks maybe Wes is right. He thinks maybe Kurt's bashful, blushing smiles are tell-tale signs, and maybe he was actually flirting when he said that at lunchtime.
Just for tonight Blaine doesn't care about his father, his campaign, or even Kurt's father and his campaign. Doesn't care that they probably shouldn't even be friends, let alone anything more. But there's only so much one can do to avoid feelings for someone like Kurt.
Someone whose smile radiates magic, whose eyes are a world of their own, whose wit and humor reduce Blaine to a laughing idiot, who can talk Broadway and show tunes like no one Blaine has ever met, and who has as much passion, excitement and joie de vivre as Bill O'Riley has hate for the gay community.
Blaine has a hard time not squealing and jumping on his bed because he thinks he's found it. Maybe in the wrong place, and certainly at the wrong time, but at least he's found it. It's more than most people can claim to, right? He's found someone who he can see himself falling head over heels in love and, whether he acts on it or not, no one can take that away from him.
He knows now, he knows that it's possible.
xXxXx
Kurt chews on his food happily "I mean, I've seen the other boy's rooms, and sure, they're bigger, and maybe slightly better, but at least I get my own. And, I guess the less space you've got the bigger challenge you have. I like a good challenge…" he says thoughtfully "Would you mind if I ordered a bookcase I found online? It's amazing – it's small, but it's got so much storage room, and it's perfect for my dorm…"
Burt looks at his son from across the table "Expensive?"
Kurt smiles sheepishly "A little…"
"Save up for half of it, I'll pay the other half." Burt smiles and Kurt grins.
"Ok. Two months. I can do that." He nods happily.
Burt frowns "What? No pleading? No daddy please?"
Kurt shrugs "It's just two months' saving. I think I can handle it, dad." He chuckles.
Burt eyes him for a second before shaking his eyes and shrugging "Well, anyway, I talked to Carole today… She says she's real close to getting that transfer, and Finn's been a little pestered back at McKinley… I suppose having me as stepfather doesn't really help."
Kurt nods "So, when do you think they'll come here?"
"Probably next month." His dad beams. Kurt knows he's missed Carole. Kurt has missed Carole, and even Finn.
"Great! We could throw them a welcome party!" Kurt says excitedly.
"Yeah, that'd be great, bud." Burt nods, as he watches he's son blabbering on about party themes and decorations.
"What?" Kurt finally asks, after he's been talking way too long, and all his dad's done is stare at him, smile and shrug at any question Kurt throws at him.
"It's been a while since I've seen you this happy." Burt says simply.
"Oh…!"
"I was worried, when you started Dalton. That you wouldn't fit in… but, I guess I was worried for nothing."
Kurt beams "Guess not!" his smile falters "Oh, huh, dad, by the way… I, huh, I'm going out tomorrow…"
"Night?"
"No, no… The soccer team has a game in the morning, I was gonna watch that, and then we'd go for some lunch and a movie…"
"You're gonna watch a soccer game?" Burt asked with barely concealed surprise and amusement.
"I've got… friends on the team. I just thought showing some support might be nice." He shrugs, and bites his lip, and plays with his food, and closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath "And… hum… one of those friends… iskindofjohnandersonsson."
"What?" Burt leaned forward "I didn't catch that."
"Huh… One of… those friends is kind of… huh… John Anderson's son." He repeats, slower now "Blaine…? Blaine Anderson. We're, huh, we're kind of friends."
"Oh…?"
"He's actually… like… my… huh… best friend at Dalton… So…"
"Kurt…" Burt sighs "I hope you're not asking me for permission to be his friend." He smiles and leans forward to take his son's hand "I don't want my campaign to determine your life, Kurt. You can be friends with whomever you want, as long as they're good people and good friends. If this Blaine guy's a good friend to you, which I suspect he is, because I have met him before and he's never even been close to rubbing me the wrong way, then I have nothing against it."
Kurt grins "Ok, good. I just…" he sighed "wanted to be sure…" he smiled "He's really nice, dad. And we decided to keep our conversations about campaigns and dads to a bare minimum."
Burt chuckles "That's good to know."
Kurt returns his dad's warm smile and it's one of those times they actually look like father and son.
"He said your speech was great, though."
"Well, then, let's get his vote!"
xXxXx
Maybe it's a good thing that Kurt arrived late, Blaine thinks, as he chances a glance towards the stand. There was no way he would've focused enough on the game if he'd had an opportunity to look at those clothes up close.
He hadn't even thought that this was the first time either one would see the other out of Dalton's uniform (unless you're gonna count the suits they both wore to their parents announcements). Apparently (and he should've guessed this, really), Kurt's style involves skinny jeans, and form-fitting vests.
And, hey, Blaine's trying to play soccer, here!
So. Again. It's a good thing Kurt was late. Because on those first twenty minutes that Kurt hadn't shown up Blaine had scored a goal.
He chances another look at the stands, but the ball interrupts his line of sight, wheezing right by his face, and it's a miracle it doesn't connect with his nose and break it. He stops in his tracks, looks in the general direction he'd last seen the ball, Jeff's giving him a 'what the hell' look, and Blaine knows it's time to check back again.
xXxXx
Short shorts. Really short shorts.
Kurt almost whimpers has Blaine makes a spectacular dive for the ball – though what makes him whimper is not dive itself, but the fact that his shorts ride up, revealing even more toned muscles. Blaine's legs are sure to be a crime against humanity.
Kurt's really glad he was late (fashionably late, thank you very much). Had he been there in time to wish Blaine a good game he's pretty sure his brain would've turned on him and made him say something along the lines of "can I touch your legs?"
He barely notices when Jeff scores Dalton's second goal, all that he cares is that Blaine's wiping the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt. And. Hello abs.
He's starting to think this was a bad idea.
Kurt had never given soccer a second thought, but he regrets it now. There are no shoulder pads to hide behind, there are no ghastly pants, there are no nothings. Their uniform is only a T-shirt and short shorts. It's a world of muscular legs sprinting to and fro. And aren't Blaine's legs one of the world's wonders!
xXxXx
Intermission comes as a saving grace for the players, Blaine included.
"Nice to have you back." Jeff teases.
"Hum?"
"I thought you'd gone somewhere else for a few minutes there." He smirks, taking a bottle for the cooler.
"Oh, yeah… momentary distraction. Sorry, won't happen again."
Jeff nodded, not bothering to answer as he poured half a bottle on himself.
Blaine drinks his as he looks around. The other team is huddled up already, and Blaine tries not to feel amused at their eagerness. It's obvious enough they're in over their heads – there's no way they'll win this or even tie.
The stands are, as usual, half filled. He thinks he sees someone with an unusually big camera and sighs, but resumes to ignoring it. What the idiot was hoping to find of interest in a high school soccer game is truly beyond Blaine. He can read the headlines 'Son of presidential candidate sucks at soccer!'
He shakes his head with a small chuckle before looking at the center, where he knows Kurt's sitting. He can't be sure, but he thinks their eyes meet. He beams and waves, and Kurt returns the wave and then gives him a thumbs up.
xXxXx
The second half of the game, Kurt is torn between thinking it runs too long or too short. He'd give anything to look at that forever, but on the other hand, they have a movie to go to, and Kurt's actually looking forward to that, and the chance of actually getting to see Blaine a little more up close. Even if by then his legs will probably be covered in fabric.
He sucks in a sharp breath when a player tackles Blaine to the ground, and even from where he sits Kurt can hear the loud thump and grunt as they crash. Kurt doesn't even notice he's standing before Blaine is finally taking Jeff's hand and getting up, and Kurt sighs in relief, sitting back down again. He watches attentively, still, as Blaine stands only experimentally on his left foot before putting more and more weight on it. He walks a little and then jumps slightly before deciding it's fine, and waving everyone off.
The referee's whistle sounds and a red card is shown to the tackler. He leaves, scoffing and mumbling, but nobody pays him much attention because the ball's being positioned front and center of the goal post. Kurt smiles to himself, because even he knows what's happening. It's a penalty shot.
He watches as Blaine centers himself, skips a little bit, a few feet behind the ball, rolls his shoulders and his head around, takes a couple of deep breath. The referee whistles and Blaine takes off without the smallest hesitation. It's not a surprise to anyone that he scores. Everyone knows that a penalty shot has a 95% success rate (or something to that effect, because, no I did not bother to check statistics). But as unsurprising as it is, still everyone's celebrating and Kurt's not holding back at all, until he catches himself, recoils his arms and clears his throat, trying to gain back some semblance of dignity.
The players are huddled up in a group hug, happy and laughing and screaming, and Blaine's getting strong slaps on his back, and even one on his butt and Kurt kind of wishes he was on the soccer team for a moment there. He doesn't expect Blaine to look his way, to shoot him a dazzling five hundred watts smile and do a little happy dance, but he's pleasantly surprised and throws his head back in laughter.
The game resumes for the last fifteen minutes, and the Dalton team holds their score at three-nil.
When the referee finally announces the end of the game, several players collapse to the ground panting and closing their eyes. Kurt watches as Blaine fist bumps the air before jogging up to Jeff and tackling him from behind, saying something to his ear with a big grin on his face. Jeff beams brighter and bigger then, and turns to hug him back, and they head together towards the bench, where Wes joins them, and soon after the whole team's participating in a strong group hug.
Kurt lingers for while at his seat, even as the other spectators start filing out. He knows he'll have to wait for them to shower and change because he's agreed to give Jeff and Nick a ride to the restaurant and movies.
He's about to go and wait by his car when Blaine calls his name. He goes down the stairs, to the lowest row of seats and waits as Blaine's still jogging towards him.
"Hey!" Blaine says breathless.
"Hi!" he answers brightly "Congrats! On winning and on your goal, you were great."
"Thanks!" Blaine seems a little awkward before he clears his throat "So, huh, we'll be real quick. Just a quick shower because we're… huh, gross… and then we're out of here."
"Yeah, sure, of course, not a problem. I'll wait by my car. It's in the parking lot." He says "Jeff and Nick still need that ride, right?"
Blaine nods "Yeah, yeah, and Pete and Dan, if you don't mind…?"
"No, of course not. It's not a problem at all."
"Ok, great! Thanks! I'll go… shower." Blaine sighs and shoots Kurt an apologetic smile.
Kurt's not entirely sure what Blaine's apologizing for. If Kurt had any say in it, Blaine could walk around sweaty in his soccer uniform everyday of the week.
xXxXx
Blaine cringes at himself the very minute he turns around. What's wrong with just shooting him a text saying 'we'll be out in ten minutes.'? Why go and talk to him while literally dripping with sweat and probably smelling like a horse?
He figures berating himself for it isn't going to help now, so he just shakes his head and takes off running towards the locker rooms, catching up with the rest of his team in a matter of seconds.
Everyone's happy and cheerful. First game of the year and they won easily. Jeff, sporting his brand new captain armband, couldn't be happier. Everybody knows that, if he hadn't said no, the armband would be on Blaine, but as they celebrate even Jeff forgets that and graciously accepts the compliments going his way.
The showers are filled with laughter and easy banter, a few towels snapping against bare flesh and yelps accompanied with empty threats. The smell of sweat is soon replaced with shampoo and fresh deodorant and before he knows it, Blaine's straightening his collar, ready to go. He smiles to himself.
Everyone's almost ready, too. Most of them are running combs through their still wet hairs, or putting their things away in large sports' bags.
They head outside soon, without even needing any prompting from Blaine or Jeff, and Blaine's quick to spot Kurt's figure, leaning gracefully against his shiny black Navigator (it's almost funny, the picture of perfectly styled and almost delicate Kurt driving the big and black hulk of that car). He calls Jeff, Nick, Pete and Dan and points them towards Kurt.
Blaine's car is on the opposite side of the lot, and he thinks it's probably a little too much and too obvious to go talk to Kurt now. What would he even say?
They're at Mitch's uncles' restaurant in twenty minutes, table ready and waiting. Blaine's pleased that he ends up seated in front of Kurt. Probably next to Kurt would be better for a conversation, but he doesn't mind just looking either.
Everyone places their order quickly, pleading the waitress to pity them and hurry because everyone's suddenly starving. Lunch goes by quick and smoothly. Blaine's relieved his idiot choice of a pasta with too much sauce hasn't made him look like a complete baboon while eating, and he's thrilled and reassured when Kurt's easily included in the group conversation.
Their feet nudge and touch under the table a few times – accidentally, of course! – and it's all blushes and shy smiles when it happens.
Blaine's sure that if you took away his loud and slightly obnoxious teammates this would be a date. It feels like a date. With company. But a date.
There are other moments, though, when it's even better, even more. When Blaine feels like he just stepped right into a Victorian romance novel, because all they do is steal glances and smiles. Either because there's a whole soccer team around them, or because they're both still unsure if this is even the right thing to do given the circumstances, or actually even just because they're both bashful, insecure teenagers, when they do exchange a meaningful look, or their feet linger in their accidental brush, a sheepish smile is quick to take over their lips, and a guilty blush their cheeks.
"God… I'm so full!" Jeff groans, next to Blaine, staring at his now completely empty plate.
Blaine snorts, because of course Jeff would eat more than he could handle. He's already feeling the familiar burn of a stretching stomach, and puts down his own silver wear. "You were eating like there was no tomorrow."
"There isn't, for all that we know." Jeff shrugs.
Blaine rolls his eyes and turns to Kurt who's looking between Jeff and his clean plate with a raised eyebrow. Kurt has his knife and fork to the right of his plate, and has stopped eating for a while now, his plate still holding slightly less than half the food. "You didn't like the food?"
"Oh, no!" Kurt laughs "It was great, but I… haven't played a ninety minute soccer game in the last hour, so."
"Oh!" Blaine chuckles "This is not because he just played, this is just how he eats."
"It's not worse than Finn, I guess. So I'm used to it, by now."
"Finn?" Boyfriend? Please let it be something else, anything else!
"Step brother." Kurt clarifies "Might actually transfer to Dalton. Dad said yesterday that he's having a few hiccups back in Lima because of the campaign. It must have finally dawned on those Neanderthals back there that my dad's actually an important politician, and I guess they've been bothering him."
"Oh, that sucks."
"Hum, I suppose." Kurt shrugs "As long as I don't have to share my dorm with him."
"You two don't get along?"
"Oh, no, we're friends. Sort of. I love him like he's my real brother, but… dirty underwear. Everywhere."
Blaine laughs "Well, good luck with that, then."
Everyone's groaning and clutching their stomachs by the time the waitress comes asking about desert, and it's a loud and resounding no. Their check comes quickly and everyone pays their part before heading out to the movies, at the nearest mall. When Blaine finishes parking, Kurt, Nick, Jeff and Wes are already waiting for them by the escalators. Wes is holding the program and inspecting it, as everyone talks happily.
"So, what movie?" Blaine asks, going to stand next to him.
Wes gestures towards the escalators, and Blaine follows.
Wes is probably telling him about their options, pros and cons, but Blaine hasn't heard a thing. Because Kurt had been talking but he's not talking now, and Blaine feels why. He feels his own jeans stretching over his own ass as he goes step after step on the escalators.
He can practically feel Kurt's eyes on his ass. He can feel his stare burning his skin.
There's heat everywhere for Blaine, he doesn't know if he's turned on or embarrassed (but it's probably not embarrassment, because, let's face it, if it was he would be self conscious and stop moving, but all he wants to do is keep taking step after step, make sure his hips sway just the tiniest bit, that his jeans stretch as much as they can… see, that's not embarrassment).
Wes is probably talking. But Blaine doesn't care. He can't care, because… this… this is not Victorian-novel cute. This is Kurt-staring-at-his-ass hot.