A/N: Yeah, it's not psychology. I'm still writing that one. This wrote itself last night so don't waste time reading this bit, the Klaine is down there!
PE
It always surprised people when they found out how sporty Kurt was, or used to be. It wasn't as if the boy gave off the typical 'fat-kid-who-hates-exercise' vibe. The boy was as slender as they came. No, it was more the 'how-dare-sweat-ruin-my-perfect-clothes' ideal that many at Dalton had associated with him. So when Blaine, Wes, and David had found out that Kurt was not only a football player and a cheerleader about two months after Kurt's transfer, there was much spluttering and chocking on food. Food, because it was lunch when Kurt had gotten that call from Quinn.
The four boys were sat around a small table at the back of Dalton's lunch hall when Wes felt the table vibrate.
"Someone's phone is going." Wes said casually, twirling his spaghetti around and around on his fork, before lifting it up and only getting one or two strands in his mouth as the others fell back onto his plate, splashing his shirt with more tomato sauce.
The other three boys all grabbed their phones, but Kurt held his out successfully. "Forget it, I'm the popular one." He smirked. "Hello?"
There was a short silence in which Blaine watched Wes attempt to force the spaghetti into his mouth by bringing his face nearer to the plate. This was slightly more successful, but resulted in sauce covering the boy's chin. Blaine stifled a laugh, causing Wes to glare at him.
"I hate spaghetti day."
"Try cutting it up like a civilised person." David quipped. He was manically slicing each strand into tiny bite size pieces, then using a spoon to scoop them up.
"Where's the fun in that though?" Wes whined. "You just have OCD about your food."
At this point Kurt flapped his arm, narrowly missing Wes's face (and causing him to lose another forkful of spaghetti), trying to get them to shut up. He put a finger in his free ear.
"Sorry Quinn, Coach Sylvester wants what?"
Pause.
"No I'm not giving it back! Who would she possibly have to wear it anyway? No guys in McKinnley would dare join the Cherrios except me!"
Pause.
"No, I don't care what she threatens me with. That uniform is going on Ebay someday as a Kurt Hummel's Before He Was Famous collectible! It will be worth thousands."
Pause.
"Of course I still fit in it...Wha... No I don't parade around in it all day!"
Pause.
"Or at night." His eyes rolled, but a red blush began to creep up his neck.
Pause.
"Bye Quinn. Tell everyone I say hi."
Pause.
"No, I don't- GOODBYE QUINN." He punched the hang up button with a lot more force than necessary.
"What was that about?" Blaine asked the still blushing Kurt, who mumbled something that sounded like wamnooniformback.
"What?"
"My older cheerleading coach wants my uniform back."
Silence descended over the table. Kurt refused to meet any of the eyes that stared at him incredulously.
"It was only for a little while." He murmured. "Only until we won Nationals."
"Kurt," Blaine started, "I will never cease to be surprised by you."
David chuckled, "Seriously Kurt? Don't the male cheerleaders have to have super strong arms to do all the lifts? No offense, but you're not exactly a body builder."
"Hey, uncalled for!" But Kurt smiled, glad this was going in the opposite direction to where he had been expecting.
Wes grinned. "Any other deep dark secrets you should confess to us that we could possibly blackmail you with later? Maybe you were the Quarterback?"
Kurt gave them a sly smile, "Well, I wasn't the Quarterback, but I would you believe me if I said I was on the football team?" Next to him, Blaine dropped his cutlery.
"No." Wes said bluntly.
"Really, I was."
"Oh pull the other one Kurt."
"I was the kicker. I helped the team win their first game. Again, I was only on it for a short time, but it counts. I've still got that uniform too actually."
"We need proof." David stated.
"Sure, I've got the jersey in my cupboard upstairs." Kurt grinned, standing up and walking out of the room so quickly that Wes's spaghetti hadn't even fallen off his fork yet.
David and Wes exchanged a glance, and then turned their attention to their friend who hadn't spoken since Kurt's second reveal. He was still staring at where Kurt had been sat with glazed eyes.
"Blaine, you okay?"
"Kurt... was on the football team?"
"Here we go." David muttered.
"Kurt... and football?"
"Yes Blaine."
"And he... he still has the uniform?"
"Blaine, pick your jaw off the floor." Wes sniggered.
"Yeah, you're drooling all over your food." David added.
"Guys. This is serious."
"We can see that, Blaine."
"I love football."
"Yes, we know."
"And Kurt plays football."
"Well, he used to."
"And somewhere in this school... Kurt has a football uniform."
"He's got Halloween sorted hasn't he?" Wes laughed, before getting elbowed by David. "Ow, what was that for?"
"I think Blaine's having some sort of epiphany Wes. A Kurt related epiphany."
"It's about time."
But their friend didn't say anything else. He merely blinked a few times until the weird haze in his eyes disappeared, then carried his tray over to the bins, and strode out of the room.
"Any chance he's gone to maul Kurt in his dorm room?" David drawled.
"Not a chance." Wes replied.
They had a hard time explaining to Kurt about his absence when Kurt returned with his football jersey.
"Maybe you should take it to him later on? He seemed really enthusiastic about you keeping your uniforms." Wes laughed, receiving a kick in the shins from David under the table.
~#~
Later on that week, Wes, Blaine and Kurt were sat on near the tennis courts after curfew. It was their favourite spot to sit when the common room was too crowded. David had gone inside an hour ago, complaining about a test the next day, and so the three boys were sat chatting, keeping an eye out for any patrolling teachers. It was just coming up to eleven thirty when Wes's phone rang.
"Hello?"
Kurt could hear David's voice come out in a frantic yell.
"Shit. Okay we're coming in." Wes jumped to his feet, hanging up. "Guys, Jones is on duty and he's looking for us. David sent him to the common room, and he's putting out the rope ladder for us."
Kurt understood Wes's urgency. Sergeant Jones, as he insisted on being called, was the most brutal educator Kurt had come across (aside from one cheerleading coach who still was out for his blood about the uniform). He was known to force the boys to do press-ups in his lessons for any wrong answer, and he was frequently making the boarders run laps if he was on duty and they were 'making too much noise'. The man towered above everyone, and commanded respect with terrifying attention to discipline.
"Oh god. Guys look." Blaine whispered, pointing through the trees. They all saw a light flickering towards them, advancing through the darkness. If they were caught out after curfew, they would be suspended, and Kurt couldn't do that to his Dad and Carole. There was also the fact that this man advancing towards them through the dark made even the toughest of the Dalton boys cry like little girls.
"Run!" Hissed Wes.
Kurt didn't need telling twice. He took off like a startled deer, racing behind the tennis courts away from Jones. Luckily he had made his way back in the dark after these late excursions many times, or he would have gotten completely lost on the back path that wound its way towards the school. He kept running, dodging tree branches and large rocks in his path. When the path came out of the greenery, he raced along the grass instead of the loud gravel, drawing closer to the old building. He sighed with relief when he reached the rope ladder dangling down from David's second story window, and using the last of his adrenaline he climbed it with ease.
David was waiting at the window, and helped him clamber through.
"Thanks. Have you got any water?" Kurt panted, completely out of breath.
"Sure." David grabbed a bottle on his night stand and chucked it at Kurt who had collapsed onto the bed. "Kurt, do you realise how fast you just ran up here? I called Wes literally two minutes ago."
The worn out boy stopped glugging the water. "Really?"
"Yeah. Wes and Blaine won't be here for at least another five minutes. How did you manage it?"
He shrugged, "Maybe I went a different way?"
David shook his head, "No I saw you come out of the trees by the back path. Dude you are fast!"
Kurt just knocked back more water. Years of being chased by bullies, Cherrios, and the football training had obviously paid off. Hell, maybe all that dancing in Glee helped.
"Do you know we have a track team here? It's not really for competitions, more for cross country and general fitness upkeep. You should really join. I go on Wednesdays, but I'm nowhere near as fast as you."
As Kurt was considering his apparent talent, Wes's face popped up at the window. David ran over and grabbed his arm, helping the red-faced boy in.
".dying." He proclaimed, before falling face first onto the floor.
"I'll get the drama queen some water." David laughed.
No sooner than the older boy disappeared, then black curls appeared at the open window. Kurt, almost fully recovered, went over and helped Blaine inside. Blaine winced when his feet touched the floor, letting out a sharp noise of pain.
"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, keeping one hand on Blaine's shoulder to steady him.
"Yeah, I just tripped halfway here."
"Here, let me help." Kurt pulled one of the injured boy's arms around his shoulders and guided him around a seemingly passed-out Wes and onto the bed. Blaine pulled himself back so he was leaning against the wall.
"Is it your ankle?" Kurt demanded.
"Kurt, I'm fine."
"No, you aren't." He grabbed the cuff of Blaine's jeans and rolled them up, inspecting any damage, but to be honest he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at. "Well," He said at last, "it doesn't look swollen."
Blaine laughed. "It's fine. I just need to rest."
"Well, that was fun." David said from the window, making Kurt jump. He hadn't realised that the other boy had returned. David rolled up the rope ladder and stashed it away under the bed Blaine was sitting on.
"Thanks David." Kurt sighed, sitting down next to Blaine.
"Thanks." Blaine and Wes chorused accepting a cup of water each from David.
"Hey, Kurt?" Wes mumbled into the carpet. "How the hell did you manage to run that fast? One minute you were there, the next you were a mile away."
Kurt just laughed.
After David had checked to see it the coast was clear a few minutes later, Blaine hobbled back to his room with Wes. As Kurt followed, David called to him out of the door, "You know running is great stress and tension relief? Not just school tension, sexual tension too." And with a wink, the boy slammed the door on a red-faced Kurt.
~#~
Wednesday afternoons at Dalton was always reserved for sport. Kurt usually did some ping pong followed by aerobics, not wanting to try out for any teams with his school work and Warbler pressure. The afternoon sport sessions were planned so that there was a break in-between sessions which allowed Kurt a chance to go back to his room for a few minutes of peace.
The Wednesday after his famous run from Jones was no different. He had done his first hour of leisurely table tennis, and was making his way out through the dorm corridor from his room, ready to go down to aerobics (fashionable headband included in the outfit of course). He had almost reached the end of the dorms when the corridor opened and Blaine walked in.
In a towel. With his curls plastered to his forehead. In pink flip flops. Walking towards him. With water dripping over his defined muscles. And his arms. Oh god.
Kurt had never quite understood the appeal of swimming until now. And he was so thankful Dalton had a pool. And a swim team. That Blaine was on.
"Hey Kurt." Blaine flashed him a smile as we went by, running a hand through his damp hair.
Kurt found it incredibly hard to carry on walking at a normal pace. He didn't dare trust his voice, so he just smiled in a hopefully non-dazed way.
Keep walking. Left foot, right foot, left foot... which foot next? Oh crap.
Then a door on his right opened and David stepped out. He took one look at Kurt's face, glanced down the hall to see Blaine disappearing into his own room, and grinned evilly.
"Alright Kurt?"
Kurt just stared at David. "Puh." He blinked, swallowed, and cleared his throat. "I think I'll come running with you today." His voice came out too airy, too light.
David didn't laugh; he just slung an arm around the dazed boy and dragged him down to the track.
~#~
As he had compulsory swim team training on Sunday mornings, Blaine only had to do an hour of PE on Wednesdays. That meant he had the dorm practically to himself for the second session of PE, and he could have an early shower before the storm of boys came rushing in after their own sports had finished.
After a loud sing along to Katy Perry in the shower, he had spent the rest of his free hour catching up on work. When the bell rung signalling the end of lessons, he decided to go down to the kitchens to beg the cooks for some food. If they were in a good mood he could get a few cakes. Maybe he could take one to Kurt. The boy probably needed something to eat after sport. Then maybe Blaine could approach the topic of Kurt playing football. He just had to remember that Kurt did it a long time ago, it wasn't like he was on the football team now, so there was no need for him to get so flustered.
The last thing Blaine expected to see when he left his room was Kurt laughing with David, hair no longer fixed in place with masses of hairspray, wearing a unlawfully tight shirt that was practically plastered to his skin. His face was flushed, his cheeks rosy, and his air of confidence seemed boosted. He looked so unlike Blaine's image obsessed friend. Not that Blaine didn't love the way Kurt dressed, but this was different. Kurt looked... relaxed, at home, one of the guys... hot. Not just hot, sweaty. Steamy.
So it was perfectly understandable that the swimmer was reduced to jelly when Kurt walked past with a casual, "Hey Blaine."
He could definitely imagine Kurt as a football player now...
He had to see that uniform.
Thanks so much for all the reviews and favourite stories and all of that guys! It makes me so happy :)
Now because I'm British I have to wait until Wednesday to see Original Song. Very annoying, but I thought I would put this up to fill my Klaine need.
Oh and the stuff about the spoon in the last chapter? Totally true, I go to a boarding school as a day pupil and the boarders have amazing escape routes.