A/N: Hiya folks! I'm kind of breaking my pattern on this one and doing it Kurt-centric - I just couldn't get it to work any other way, and Kurt was determined :3 This is my way of dealing with Glee withdrawal. 'Sexy' had better be gooooood.

Anyways, here's oneshot #4! The prompt I worked from is Predatory.

I don't own gleeeeee.


Predatory

Kurt slammed into the Warblers Hall, staring at his phone in concern. "Blaine, I got your message," he panted. "What's going-"

He stopped as something soft and white hit him in the forehead and bounced to the floor. Kurt blinked and looked up just in time to be nailed by a flurry of marshmallows.

"What on earth?" he spluttered, holding his hands to his face as they kept coming, pelting him mercilessly.

"ATTAAAAAAAACK!" Wes and Thad sprang out from behind a couch, brandishing marshmallow guns with feral grins. The door slammed shut behind Kurt as Jeff leapt forward with a war whoop and blocked the exit with his body.

"You'll never escape now, Hummel!" Thad crowed, reloaded his marshmallow gun with a dramatic flourish.

Kurt had been at Dalton long enough to know that asking questions rarely got him anywhere. Instead, he hit the deck as Thad and Wes renewed their attack, throwing himself into a poorly-executed log roll as he tried to spare his clothing.

Kurt came out of his roll and sprang for the door at the other end of the Warblers Hall. He was less than half a dozen strides away when his stylish Sperrys topsiders caught the edge of a rug. The countertenor went down in what felt like slow-motion - he could almost see his attackers loping towards him in freeze-frame. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at Wes, Thad, and Jeff, outlined against the ornate ceiling and grinning maliciously. Kurt curled up into a little ball.

"Do what you want with me, but don't touch my hair." His voice was muffled against his hands clasped over his face. He heard the slow click of a marshmallow gun reloading and braced himself for the onslaught…

More battle cries rent the air - too many to come from only three Warblers - and Kurt curled in tighter as running footsteps shook the floor beneath him. Whatever the hell was going on, it was sure to be over soon.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, get up!" A beautifully familiar voice shouted, and Kurt peeked through his fingers to see Blaine above him. He had tossed his blazer to the side and discarded his tie, and his shirt-tails were untucked and trailing. He pointed a massive SuperSoaker water gun at the retreating marshmallow-shooters, brandishing it protectively as he stood over Kurt.

Kurt obediently scrambled to his feet, ducking behind Blaine as soon as he was standing. "Can I ask what's going on?" he breathed in Blaine's ear, watching with wide eyes as four Warblers armed with similar water guns cornered Wes, Jeff, and Thad behind the Council table.

"There's no time for questions in warfare," Blaine snapped back, cocking his weapon with an expression disturbingly similar to Lara Croft. Or Indiana Jones, Kurt noted, if he used a gun. "We fight to the death!"

Kurt grasped his shoulder before Blaine could go running off again. He was pleased when the lead Warbler jumped, flushing slightly at the contact.

"I'm not armed, Blaine, what do I do?" he emphasized each word carefully.

Blaine bit his lip. "Umm. Find a safe spot?" Kurt threw him his patented 'Bitch, Please' stare. Blaine paused, his eyes flicking nervously back to the battle. "Okay, okay, fine. Watch my back." He pulled away from Kurt's touch and dashed off towards his other teammates. Jeff had immediately thrown up his hands in surrender, while Wes and Thad were back-to-back like a scene out of Star Wars.

"You'll never take us alive, Anderson!" Wes snarled, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked for a way out.

"You have no use to me alive, Wesley," Blaine replied, his voice low and dangerous. Kurt felt a shiver run up his spine.

Nick and one of the other water-gun bearers had stepped in towards Wes and Thad when another group of Warblers hurtled through the door, waving marshmallow guns over their heads with wild war whoops.

"Blast!" Blaine spat, whirling to face David and the incoming reinforcements. Kurt took a hint and slowly began backing towards the nearest door.

"CHAAAARGE!" David cried as his group thundered into the room with guns blazing. Blaine and his Warblers ran to meet the charge, yelling what sounded like Shakespearean insults. Kurt slipped out the door just as Blaine roared, "Step aside, thou froward spur-galled skainsmate!" Yep, it was definitely time to go.

It was nearly an hour later when a knock on his door roused Kurt. "It's open," he called out, glancing up from the sheet music spread across his bed.

A dripping wet Blaine Anderson let himself in. "Hey," he grinned, running a hand through his hair. Nearly a dozen curls had broken free of their gelled prison, creating a little halo of black curls that gave him a very fuzzy appearance.

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Why are you wet?"

Blaine shot him a sidelong glance. "What do you mean? You saw it down there, it was total chaos."

"I thought you guys had the water guns," Kurt pointed out.

A sheepish grin spread on Blaine's face, and he reached back to rub his neck. "Yeah, Nick pulled a Benedict Arnold on us. Try fighting off both marshmallows and water guns."

Kurt noticed several patches of what looked like soggy marshmallow goo on Blaine's clothing, and he shuddered delicately. "I'll grab you a towel," he offered, beginning to slide from the bed.

"No, it's fine, I'll get it," Blaine countered, already moving towards the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later, rubbing his scruffy hair with a tattered yellow towel he knew Kurt kept for circumstances like this. Blaine knew better than to use Kurt's treasured Egyptian Cotton to rub off his marshmallow goo. Kurt bit back a smile.

"Who won?"

"Who won?" Blaine repeated, staring blankly. "Ah…I don't know, actually." He laughed. "Sorry about that. I know we all looked kind of nuts down there."

"Yeah, you kind of did," Kurt replied with the beginnings of a smirk. "Honestly, I just about had a heart attack when I came in and got attacked by marshmallows." He crossed his legs under him. "Were you leading me into an ambush, Blaine Anderson?"

"Oh, my text?" Blaine sank onto the bed next to him. "No, sorry, you were supposed to meet up with us and hear the battle plan. I guess Wes was still angry you weren't on their side - I called you for ours like a week ago - and set a trap. They were in our territory anyways." His eyes darkened, and Kurt almost laughed.

"Well, I'm glad it turned out okay."

"Yeah, me too." Blaine flashed him a smile, which Kurt returned a little shyly. He normally wasn't one for - well, for teenage boy stuff, but he thought this time he could make an exception. Just for Blaine.


Review review review! :D Show those stereotypes who's boss!