Roses Dipped In Gold

Chapter Four

Resistance Movement Growing

Classless Magazine

According to a recent poll, 31% of the general population identifies as part of the Resistance, and a shocking 72% of the population shares at least one of the Resistance movement's major beliefs. Resistance members are distributed throughout the classes, with the majority focused in the Middle Class. The 16-29 age demographic has the strongest showing, whereas ages 65 and over represent fewer than 3% of the Resistance.

Peaceful demonstrations are becoming a more frequent occurrence, calling for an end to the Class system. There are currently no laws forbidding citizens from expressing Resistance beliefs, however, there has been speculation that with the increase in demonstrations, regulations may soon be voted on in the Council.

Will the movement continue to grow? Will the Resistance be forced into becoming a secret underground operation? Only time will tell.

You are cordially invited to

Dalton Academy's March Dinner Dance

Saturday the nineteenth of March

Seven o'clock in the evening

A four-course meal will be served in the dining hall, followed by conversation and dancing in the ballroom

Semi-formal attire required

If you had asked Kurt what he thought he would be doing Saturday night, he would not have predicted that he would be sneaking away from the Dalton Dinner Dance to a dark corner of an abandoned classroom and having his clothes taken off by the boy he was crushing on. He hadn't even thought he'd ever go to a Dalton Dinner Dance, but Blaine had asked him, and how could he say no?

So here he was.

A few minutes ago, Kurt had been relishing the perfect night, swaying to the party's soft music wrapped up in Blaine's arms, but then Blaine had leaned in closer to his ear and whispered "I have to have you," and he was a goner.

Now, miraculously, Kurt was pushed up against a chalkboard, Blaine's body pinning him in place, every inch of his skin burning for the boy in front of him. The feeling of Blaine's hands in his hair, on his back, tugging at his hips, was everything he craved, everything he needed.

Kurt wasn't nervous like he always thought he would be, not embarrassed about someone else seeing and touching his body. He didn't even have the capacity to consider his fears and insecurities at the moment because he was so fully absorbed in Blaine.

Blaine's fingers were at his neck, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, revealing the skin of Kurt's chest little by little, his lips following right behind to plant a trail of kisses down across Kurt's torso. Without warning, Blaine's tongue dipped into his belly button, causing Kurt's back to arch and inadvertently press his groin into Blaine.

"I want to taste you, sexy," Blaine whispered, eyes dark and crazed while his hands located the button on Kurt's pants.

Before Kurt knew it, his pants and briefs were around his knees and Blaine and his glorious mouth were on him.

Kurt awoke with a start, cock throbbing with need.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," he grumbled as he palmed himself over his pajamas to try to get some relief. Now he was having sex dreams about this guy?

Okay, Kurt rationalized with himself. Dreams were the only way he'd ever have Blaine, so he supposed he could allow himself to dream big.

His fantasy picked up where the dream had left off - with Blaine and his very desirable, very skilled mouth.

The weather was astoundingly beautiful for mid-March. The sun was out, there was a light breeze, and the air smelled like spring. Kurt nestled in against the trunk of his favorite tree on the edge of the grounds. It was situated so that he could see everything, but nobody would see him unless they were looking. Which they weren't. He had no less than three blankets spread out beneath him as a safeguard against dirt, grass, and bugs - a few of Kurt's least favorite things, and he was so content in this moment. But as much as he loved his quiet alone time, he almost wished for Blaine to be there with him. They hadn't had any more heart-to-hearts over the past few days, and Kurt still hadn't revealed much of anything about himself, but light conversation between the two of them was now a regular occurrence. Kurt was getting quite used to his new companion, and it was equal parts alarming and exhilarating. Despite Renna convincing him that Blaine might not have the same viewpoint his parents did, Kurt still wasn't sure where Blaine stood on the big issues. If their strange little friendship was going to continue, Kurt needed to sort that out sooner rather than later. He couldn't bear spending any more time with Blaine if Blaine was opposed to equality.

As if he could hear Kurt thinking his name, Blaine came strolling down the hill, followed by a gaggle of younger students. His brow was furrowed, eyes darting around nervously looking for something. When he saw Kurt, his face lit up, and he made a beeline for the tree. The group following him reluctantly parted ways when they saw his destination.

Blaine plopped down on one of the blankets near Kurt, sitting cross-legged. Kurt cursed his dream for the visions that rushed into his mind. Blaine waved a piece of parchment-colored paper in front of him.

"What is this?" He asked.

Kurt dropped the book he was perusing to look.

"That's a piece of paper, Blaine. Sometimes humans use paper to write or draw or print pictures or words-"

"Wow, I did not realize I was sitting next to the queen of sass…" Blaine interjected, laughing. "I got this invitation in my mailbox and girls and boys have been following me around all day trying to ask me if I would attend the March Dinner Dance with them. So tell me...what exactly is a Dalton Dinner Dance?"

"It's a dinner and a dance," Kurt deadpanned. He had not been expecting this easy banter between the two of them, but he was not unhappy with it.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a little more than that," Blaine grinned, clearly also pleased with their interaction.

Kurt's face contorted into a grimace. "It's a monthly event that the administration puts on where students can come together and have a night of fun. People get dressed up, they serve a fancy meal, and there's a live band that plays while people dance." Blaine did not miss the bitterness in Kurt's voice.

"And we take dates?" Blaine bit his lip. Damn that dream from last night...every little thing Blaine did was making Kurt squirm.

"It's not mandatory, but most people do."

Blaine sat up straighter with a brightened expression. "It sounds like fun!"

"Fun...yeah-" A boy Kurt vaguely recognized from their year approached them. He was handsome. Tall and muscular, but very blonde. Not Kurt's type at all. He was not looking for Kurt, though.

"Hi Blaine," the boy spoke. "Jackson from trigonometry, remember? I was wondering if you would want to go to the dinner dance with me." Jackson seemed extremely confident and not at all afraid of rejection.

Blaine smiled widely at him. Was Blaine flirting?! "Ah jeez, Jackson. Of course I remember you! I'm actually going with someone else, though."

Kurt's heart dropped. Of course he was. Kurt felt strangely disappointed when he heard this. But Blaine was Blaine. There was no way he wouldn't have a date to the party. Kurt should have known. And anyway, he could not be upset at Blaine for making other friends, crushing on other boys. Kurt had set his boundaries, and he had to live with them. The fact that he was even remotely upset about something like this just proved that Kurt hadn't been stringent enough in sticking to his own rules. He was so irritated with himself that when he looked up, he realized he had missed Jackson's departure entirely.

"He's the fourth person to ask me today," Blaine picked at the grass, a weird expression on his face.

"It must be exhausting to be you," Kurt joked, jabbing at Blaine's side, which made Blaine perk up and laugh.

"So…you already have a date for the party?" Kurt tried to sound as uninterested as possible.

Blaine looked up apologetically. "No." He shook his head. "Did it sound convincing, though? I'm using it as an excuse to let people down gently."

Kurt hummed in approval, secretly so relieved. He stretched his long legs out in front of himself. It didn't escape his notice that Blaine watched appreciatively. It made Kurt feel good to know that somebody liked the way he looked. He wondered if Blaine had been having dreams about him, too. When Blaine saw that he had been caught watching, he blushed and started babbling.

"You have...um...grass...uh so...Who are you going with?" Blaine asked.

Kurt gave Blaine a hard look, collecting his knees to his chest again. "I don't go. These parties were created so that students would forget that this Academy is just a pretense of equality, and that when we are thrust into the real world, we will never all be allowed to attend such an event together, but I will never forget. It's a mockery of the basic human rights some people are denied, and I will not support it."

Blaine was quiet. Kurt wondered if Blaine thought he was crazy. He knew that sooner or later, he would have to ask the question. The one that had the power to make or break their relationship. His need to know the answer grew more and more pressing with each passing minute they spent together. With every sneaky glance at the other's face or body, every laugh at the other's joke, every story Blaine told, Kurt knew he came closer and closer to the point of no return. If he was going to jump in all the way, he had to know. And he wanted to jump in, he did, just as much as he wanted to turn away and never look back.

"Do you-" he began, backing out almost as soon as he started.

Blaine looked at him expectantly. He rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his feet up into the air and propping up his chin in his hands.

"What is it?" Blaine prompted.

Kurt was saved from having to respond, because Renna came over the hill carrying a picnic basket at that exact moment.

"I could see the two of you out here from my window, and I thought you might like some lunch!"

"Ren, you think of everything!" Blaine popped up to hug her and take the basket from her.

As they spread out the meal on Kurt's pile of blankets and he looked at the smiling faces of the two people he allowed to know him better than he ever intended, Kurt felt something unfamiliar that he never thought he'd find at Dalton. It blew him away. He held onto his middle and caught his breath as he realized what it was.

Happiness.

Blaine was having a great weekend. The clothes Kurt had fashioned for him were perfect. He felt more like himself than he had in months. The Academies had a tendency to strip away everything that made him him. He understood why it was necessary, but it was still a little unsettling.

When he had approached Kurt under the tree earlier this morning, he never expected the easy back-and-forth they had, and definitely had not expected Kurt's response to him bringing up the Dinner Dance. But then again, nothing about Kurt was expected.

They'd had such a nice time working side-by-side outdoors, interrupted only by Renna's picnic. Renna even invited the boys to her and her roommate's regular Saturday evening movie night.

Kurt automatically started to decline the invitation, but Blaine cut in, enthusiastically accepting and convincing Kurt to attend as well.

So now, he was knocking on Renna's door, beyond excited to have friends who treated him normally. And maybe a little excited because he got to spend the evening with Kurt.

"Come in!" Renna called. Blaine entered to see Renna and her roommate, Ashlyn, on one bed, a large bowl of popcorn between them. On the other bed was a sight to behold. Kurt lay stretched out on his hip, hand propping up his head. His soft brown hair fell in waves across his forehead, so different from its usual coif.

Blaine went for one of the desk chairs, stumbling across the rug because he refused to take his eyes off of the gorgeous boy on the bed, but changed course when Kurt sat up and pulled his legs under him, making room for Blaine to sit with him. He was not about to deny himself a chance to sit on a bed with Kurt. Even though he knew it would be totally G-rated, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious at the prospect.

The movie had already been decided on - The Princess and the Frog.

"I love this movie!" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine grinned. Kurt so rarely let on anything about himself, that it felt like Christmas morning when he did.

As much as Kurt loved the movie, though, he began to drift off. He slid down onto Renna's pillow, and his legs slowly stretched toward where Blaine sat.

Blaine froze when Kurt's feet touched his leg, but then reached out a hand and put it hesitantly on Kurt's ankle. Kurt wriggled down into the mattress and let out what sounded like a happy sigh. The boy who normally looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders seemed so carefree and peaceful in his sleep.

Blaine hoped that someday he could make Kurt feel that way.

Saturday had been filled with so much togetherness that Kurt needed to take Sunday to recoup. He enjoyed Blaine's company, but was so used to being alone that he found the constant companionship a little draining.

Kurt's leg tingled at the memory of waking up in Renna's bed last night with his legs practically on Blaine's lap, and Blaine's warm hand resting on his calf where his sweatpants had ridden up. Blaine, of course, had blushed profusely upon realizing Kurt was awake, and nervous babbled all the way back to his room, where Kurt deposited him before going to his own bed. Kurt had almost stopped him ten times, trying to force the question out of his brain and onto his tongue, but he couldn't. Blaine's babbling was adorable, anyway.

If he was being honest with himself, Kurt knew that the reason he could not bring himself to ask Blaine what his stance was on Class injustice was that he was too afraid that he would not like the answer. Knowing himself, he would let it brew inside of him until it came bursting out at the most inopportune time. He had a really annoying knack for doing that.

There was only one person who knew everything about him and could help him sort out his thoughts. He pulled out his stationery and pen and started writing.

Dad,

Your last letter had me laughing so hard. I could perfectly picture you tripping over the mayor's dog and cussing it out. That has Burt Hummel written all over it. I'm glad he wasn't too angry with you, because we couldn't do what we do without him.

I need your advice on something. There's someone new I've been hanging around. Please don't dad out on me when I say that he's a boy. You know better than anyone what my stance is on building relationships at Dalton, but I think it might be too late with this one. Dare I say we might already be friends? I know, I know...I promised myself I wouldn't do this, especially for a cute boy (Yes, I said he's cute, get over it), but I'm starting to feel like maybe some promises are made to be broken. What should I do, dad?

I should fill you in on what's been happening in Class Studies…

Kurt wrote and wrote until his hand cramped up. He felt infinitely better after writing to his father. It was true that this whole thing with Blaine had thrown him for a loop, but if there was one thing that Kurt was excellent at, it was taking whatever life threw his way and making the best of it.

"Why does Class matter?" Mr. Brower had opened up the floor to questions about his lecture for the day. Kurt, naturally, capitalized on the opportunity. The question was something Kurt had wondered his whole life, but had been thinking about a lot lately. Everyone shrugged and stayed quiet, so he asked again. "Why does Class matter? Why is it that the band around my wrist is the first thing you look for, the number one thing that defines me? Even in here, when we are supposed to be stripped of our Classes, the first thing you wonder about me is which Class I am. It's like it's all that matters. It doesn't matter if I'm male or female, if I'm stupid or smart, if I have blue eyes or brown, if I'm a good person or a bad person...all that matters is my Class. Why is it more important than everything else?"

"It just is," someone spoke up from the front of the classroom.

"Wow, has anyone ever told you how intelligent you are?" Kurt spat. "Use your brains, people! Think for yourselves! Make up your own minds about things!"

"This is stupid," another student commented.

"I think Kurt is right," Mr. Brower supported before Kurt could respond. "It's an important question to ask." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. Forget about the assignment I gave you on Friday. We will move the due date to next week. By Wednesday, I want two pages from each of you on your thoughts on why Class matters. Please try to give it some critical thought. I look forward to reading your responses Wednesday."

Kurt felt smug. This wasn't the first time Mr. Brower had used one of his ideas for an assignment, but it felt like the most important time.

The bell rang to dismiss them, and some of the other students shot Kurt dirty looks, blaming him for their assignment, but Kurt would have taken all of the dirty looks in the world for this chance to change even just one mind.

Blaine wiped the sweat off his face with his T-shirt. He had woken up in the middle of the night once again to a horrible nightmare of being attacked while blindfolded and restrained. The dreams were terrifying and draining, and he hated them. There was one upside to being plagued with these nightmares, though...

He snuck out into the hall and meandered toward his and Kurt's hideout. It was so nice to have an escape. Blaine was always the first one there, and on most nights, Kurt would join him silently, like he had the first time.

But this time, when Blaine neared the door to his favorite room in the school, the light was already on, and a recording of music came from within.

He slowly pushed open the door and saw that he had been wrong on all accounts. Kurt was already there. And he was not listening to a CD, he was the one making the music. Blaine shut the door behind him as quickly as he could without startling Kurt.

As Blaine watched (his mouth hanging open, as it usually did when he saw Kurt do...well...anything), Kurt tapped at the piano tentatively and simply, but in perfect time and key. What blew Blaine away, though, was that Kurt was singing. And good god, was he amazing.

Kurt flicked his eyes up to acknowledge Blaine, then right back down to the keys before him.

Blaine recognized the song - he knew it well. It spoke of the fear to try something new, to commit oneself to another. How fitting. He walked up and sat on the piano bench next to Kurt. Blaine placed his hands on the keys and joined in without missing a beat, turning Kurt's simple tune into a powerful, complex melody. He didn't sing since he couldn't bear to take away from Kurt's perfection, but still, their collaboration felt almost magical. Hip-to-hip, they created beautiful music, becoming one entity for a few minutes. It was magnetic, the force between them, and Blaine did not think he could pull away no matter how hard he tried.

The song finished, and Kurt looked up at him. Blaine knew he had the most awe-struck expression on his face and that he probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. Kurt just did that to him. And his suspicion was all but confirmed now. Nobody could sing like that unless they were High Class. It simply did not happen.

"Kurt, you're...that was...unbelievable. How did you learn to sing like that?" He was sure Kurt could see the hearts in his eyes, but he could not find it in him to care.

"My mother," Kurt said softly.

Blaine could only imagine how beautiful and perfect the woman who created and raised Kurt must be. "Tell me about her. She must be amazing."

Kurt swallowed hard. Blaine could see him warring with himself. He wasn't sure why, but it was obvious that Kurt was struggling, so Blaine put a hand on his knee to reassure him. Kurt looked up in surprise, but after the initial shock of the contact, it seemed to relax him, because Kurt responded. "She's dead."

Despite the blunt way Kurt shot out the words, it was clear the love and grief and reverence Kurt felt for his mother.

Blaine, desperately wanting to console him, put his arms around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug. Kurt was stiff at first, but Blaine held on until eventually, Kurt melted against him. Blaine's heart was thrumming loudly, the heat of Kurt's body against his so deeply pleasing. He felt Kurt's fingertips clutch at his shoulder blades, pulling him closer.

"Thank you," he heart Kurt whisper. Blaine pulled away slightly, but kept his face close to Kurt's. He had dreamed of being this close for over a week, and it was now coming true. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder, taking it all in.

Kurt's voice was urgent when he blurted out "Do you think the Resistance movement is important? Do you think it's right?"

Blaine's head whipped up in surprise.

"Oh, I...uh…"

At his loss for words, he saw Kurt visibly deflate, pain streaking across his face. It hurt Blaine's heart to see Kurt in pain.

Kurt backed away a few inches. "It's simple, Blaine. Yes or no? Do you believe in equality?"

"I'm not...I haven't really given it much thought before, I-"

Blaine cut off as Kurt threw himself off the bench and to his feet.

"Yeah, that's the problem, isn't it?" Kurt spat, as malicious as Blaine had ever seen him. "You've been so privileged and so comfortable that you've never once in your life had to consider how unjust the system is. I knew that with your background there was a chance that you'd be like that, but god, Blaine, I really hoped you were different. It's really a shame that I was wrong, because we might have had something great."

Kurt shook his head and walked out, leaving Blaine alone and reeling.

Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited or followed so far! Hanna, I seriously live for your reviews.

My apologies for the teaser at the beginning...it's how I cope with pacing myself through the story. : )

Thanks for the fic recommendations. I'm loving them. Keep 'em coming!

XXX