I know it might seem like I'm trying to stretch this fanfic to last me as long as the Glee hiatus, but I've truly been very busy and very tired. I want to finish it as soon as possible, so that I can move on to others, but alas! I'm slow and easily distracted when it's really late or really early and I should be sleeping.
On the upside, I finished chapter six just earlier and then I realized it was way too long, so I had to split it into two parts. So at least I'll actually be posting two chapters almost back to back, to move things along. That doesn't make me any less delayed with the rest of it, but at least the thing is getting posted.
Hopefully you'll enjoy it more than I do. Because frankly, I'm starting to get on my nerves. I sometimes wish I had someone breathing down my neck.
Disclaimer: Fox and RIB own this. I'm only borrowing them for my own guilty pleasure. And yours.
Blackened Blue Eyes
by HappyValentina
"Burt! The game is starting!" Finn called from his seat on the couch.
"There's barely enough room for all your friends, where do you suppose I'm gonna sit?" Burt said, walking into the living room with a bowl of chips and a beer.
It was College Football night, and the Buckeyes were playing out of state, and Finn had invited the Glee guys to watch it at the Hudmel residence. They ordered pizza and made popcorn and nacho cheese and occupied most of the living room.
"Sorry, Burt," Finn said.
"Sorry, Mr. Hummel," Mike and Artie said in unison.
"Do you want to sit here, Mr. Hummel?" Sam asked, getting up and sitting on the floor.
"Thanks, kid, that's actually my chair," Burt said, sitting in the recliner, while Sam chuckled. "Since you're there, mind tossing me a slice of pizza?"
"Just the one slice, dad, that's all you're allowed," Kurt said, as Sam obeyed and served one slice of mushroom pizza and held the plate out to Burt.
"Don't boss me around in front of your friends, son, it's embarrassing," Burt joked.
"Trust me, they all know where it's coming from," Kurt replied. The boys nodded, recalling that long, dark week of watching Kurt slowly unravel while waiting for his dad to wake up from his coma.
"Whatever," Burt murmured, biting on the delicious pizza gleefully.
Only five minutes into the game, and Kurt was fighting the urge to excuse himself. Bullies were not the only reason he left the football team; he couldn't get how people found it exciting to participate in, or even watch, a game that paused every twelve seconds. Sure, when things got rolling, it was pretty cool, but the game was supposed to last an hour and somehow it stretched forever; plus, he still couldn't understand half the signals from the referees, no matter how many times Finn explained them to him; and football uniforms were just so unflattering.
Still, if he had to sacrifice a bit of his sanity to hang out with his dad, his brother, his friends, and of course, Blaine, then he guessed that was fine. They sure didn't spend enough time like this, it was nice for a change. He just wish it wouldn't drag on for so long.
"YES!" All the guys shouted and pumped their fists in the air. Kurt jumped in surprise.
"What just happened?" he asked, staring at the screen in confusion.
"Turnover," Artie said, tossing popcorn into his mouth. Kurt blinked.
"It means we have the ball now," Blaine explained in a low voice. Kurt nodded. He hadn't even known the ball had been in the other team's possession. Blaine noticed.
"You now, we don't have to watch this, we can go do something else," he whispered. Kurt shook his head. Finn cleared his throat.
"No, come on, Blaine, it's fine. I'm just not a huge fan as you guys all are," Kurt replied.
"But we can do something we both enjoy," Blaine repeated. Finn cleared his throat louder.
"Enough with the double-meanings, guys," he said out of the corner of his mouth. Blaine snickered.
"Blaine, that's sweet. But we're watching the game with our friends. We can do something we both enjoy afterwards," Kurt answered, and pecked Blaine quickly on the cheek. Finn was coughing exaggeratedly now.
"Oh, screw you, Finn, you can make out with your girlfriends wherever you go, and I can't kiss my boyfriend on the cheek in the comfort of my own home?"
"Whoa, no PDA!"
"Guys, come on!"
Kurt rolled his eyes as his friends tossed popcorn and made a big fuss. Blaine tossed the popcorn back.
"Hey, come on, we're watching the game. Behave."
"Are you talking to me, dad?"
"I'm talking to everyone. No PDAs and stop wasting food."
Kurt sat sourly looking at the TV screen as more stuff happened in the game that he didn't understand. Apparently they were winning, that's as far as he knew or cared. At least Blaine continued to explain everything to him in low whispers, so rather than paying attention to the breakdown of the plays he was giving him, Kurt was trying not to laugh at the tickling he was getting from his boyfriend's breath in his ears.
When the first quarter was over, Mike jumped up to scuttle to the bathroom downstairs, and Sam asked if he could use the upstairs one. Meanwhile, Blaine and Kurt went into the kitchen to refill their beverages, and Finn popped another bag of popcorn in the microwave.
"Are you preparing to hibernate or something?" Kurt asked as he watched his step-brother open a new can of nacho cheese and dipped a ridiculous amount of tortilla chips into it. Finn's only reply was the loud crunching of the chips in his mouth as he munched them.
"Isn't watching sports supposed to have the opposite effect on people? Inspire you to watch what you eat and work out more?" Kurt said. "You're our quarterback."
"Makes you wonder how long ago sports-watching became so strongly associated with hot dogs, nacho cheese and beer," Blaine added, reaching for a chip.
"I blame the English and their pubs," Kurt said.
"I do too. But man, was it a good idea," Burt said as he walked in, fetched another beer from the fridge and ignored the scolding look Kurt was giving him. Finn nodded and carried the food out to the living room.
"Hey, Blaine, I forgot. Your car should be ready for tomorrow, I just want to make sure the paint dries really well, so give it an extra day," Burt said, pulling the popcorn out of the microwave once it stopped beeping.
"Okay, thanks," Blaine said, attempting a smile.
"My buddy Roger who handled the paint job is gonna submit the paperwork directly to the insurance company, so you don't have to do it yourself."
"Great. Thank you so much, sir."
"Nah, you're a good kid, and those guys had no business messing with you," Burt clapped him on the shoulder and shook his head.
"Tell me about it." Blaine suddenly looked rather sullen. He took a sip from his Coke and cleared his throat when no one said anything else.
"Excuse me," he said, glancing at Kurt before leaving the kitchen. Kurt followed him with his gaze and looked at his dad.
"Thanks for helping out with that, dad. I think this was traumatizing enough for him without having to deal with insurance and stuff," he smiled.
Diet Coke in hand, he turned to rejoin his friends in the living room.
"Kurt, wait."
Kurt stopped, and took a silent deep breath before turning.
"Yes, dad?" he asked, but he already knew what his father was going to say.
"Wanna talk about what happened?"
Kurt sighed and shook his head. "We're fine, dad. Really," he said. "We both owe Puckerman a lot right now, trying to figure out how to make it up to him, since he did get clipped in the jaw and almost got detention," he said with a dismissive laugh.
"Yeah, he's a good friend," Burt said, looking toward the living room, where Puck was attempting to twirl an empty pizza box on his finger like a basketball.
"You don't seem too upset about what happened," Burt said with a curious frown.
"I was mostly worried about Blaine; I didn't want him to freak out over this. But I think he'll be fine."
Hoping the matter was settled, Kurt motioned toward the door again, but his father leaned against the counter in a manner that said clearly he wasn't done.
"Son, I was gonna wait until half-time to talk about this, but I know you probably don't want me to make a big deal out of it anyway, so I'll just tell you really straightforward," Burt said, adopting a very serious voice. "If you say the word, we'll make the transfer again."
This is what Kurt was afraid of. "Dad, no. Are you crazy?"
"I'm just saying, you have the option. We'll figure out a way to make it happen."
"Dad, thank you, but no. It's a definite no," Kurt said very seriously. "Look, I enjoyed my time at Dalton; it's a great school, I made good friends, I met Blaine, and I'm just so grateful and indebted to you and Carole for giving up your honeymoon to enroll me there."
"Son, you will never owe us anything."
Kurt smiled gratefully, but he became serious again. "But I can't hide in a super-safe school anymore. I can't run away again. Especially not with Blaine in McKinley."
"You didn't run away. Your life was threatened."
Kurt shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't know if that was the right decision after all. It felt more like I took the easy way out, and I regret it. But I came back and I'm staying. And I'm happy Blaine came too; we both have our demons, now we get to face them together. You know, be each other's support system"
He put his beverage down on the counter. "Besides, I've got Melrose and Finn and the Glee club."
"Melrose can't protect you forever," Burt pointed out.
"Neither can Dalton," Kurt replied. "I mean, what's the difference? I'll be graduating soon, anyway, and then I'll just have to face the real world, and it's just as full of people who will never accept me. So why not stand up to all the bullies from the start?"
Burt drew out a long breath and looked up at the ceiling, uncertain.
"What about the Karofsky kid? Is he still in that Bullywhips thing?" he asked.
"No, but it's fine. I don't think you need to worry about him anymore," Kurt said. "He's genuinely sorry for the way he used to act."
"Maybe you don't have to worry about him anymore, but what about Blaine? Didn't you say he recently tossed a smoothie in his face?"
"A slushie. And yes, I'm aware that he's not exactly completely rehabilitated, but he's coming along. I promise," he said, biting his lip. His dad didn't need to know everything. "Besides, slushies are not that big a deal when you think about it. Even Finn did it to me once."
He suddenly wished he hadn't said that, but it's not like Burt didn't know that Finn, like Puck, used to be one of his abusers who underwent a change of heart. He just probably didn't need to be reminded of it.
Burt, however, only scratched his neck anxiously and looked doubtful.
"You're defending Karofsky now?"
"Believe it or not," Kurt said, as if he were surprised himself.
Burt took a swig of beer distractedly, and Kurt knew he wasn't convinced yet.
"This is just something we have to do," he added in a lower voice. "Even if it means that our cars get defaced, or we get pushed around, or we get broken noses and black eyes."
"And if you get killed?"
The question lingered in the air for a second, and the boy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Ever since his return to McKinley, after Dave had said that his threat had been empty -a figure of speech, he had dared to call it-, Kurt never thought about that possibility anymore. He just couldn't. But he knew deep down that it was real. Perhaps none of the students at his school might be capable, but he knew very well, from everyday stories and news reports, that out there in the real world, there were people who could hate him that much. Meanwhile, as long as he was home, he could pretend that those were just stories, and that they were far, far away.
"Dad, don't be so melodramatic," he said quickly and dismissively. Burt suddenly became upset.
"I have every right to be melodramatic, and cautious and preventive. Not just with you, but with Blaine too. The last thing I want is my son or his boyfriend to die at the hands of bullies, just because you didn't want to seem like cowards."
Kurt perceived the sadness and worry and exhaustion in his father's voice and gaze. He had been so concerned with putting behind everything terrible that had happened to him, but he had forgotten to assure his dad that he was healed and that everything was going to be okay from now on. Burt had had it just as hard as Kurt, worried sick about everything that had happened.
He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his father's torso. It was only a moment before he felt Burt return the hug and give a deep sigh of relief.
"Dad, please don't think like this. No one is going to die. Nothing's gonna happen. We'll handle anything that comes our way," he said into Burt's shoulder. "It's going to be fine."
There was a pause, and Kurt pulled away and smiled at his father. Burt shook his head, a sad look still upon his face.
"I hope you know what you're doing," he said. Kurt nodded slowly.
"I always hope that too."
The more he tried to stop himself, the more he failed. He failed at concentrating in class, or at least pretending to concentrate in class, and he failed at pretending everything was normal. If he kept at it, his grades would start suffering again. He was already suffering; it was like he actually enjoyed torturing himself.
Santana was right. People were going to catch on if he wasn't careful.
And then what would he do?
But he couldn't help that the back of Kurt Hummel's neck was so much more interesting to him than whatever had happened in Washington and Alabama in 1963.
Dave tried to refocus his eyes on the whiteboard in the History classroom, where professor Blackburn was listing dates and names and places and droning on and on. His eyes stubbornly drifted back to Kurt whenever the boy made any move.
Right now he was rubbing a scar on the left side of his neck with his free hand while taking notes, a habit he probably didn't know he had. Dave wondered where the scar came from; he also wondered what it felt like. He counted the freckles on the smooth white skin again.
Stop it, he told himself. He was enjoying this too much. He felt like a complete moron.
Lately he had become more and more able to count the ways in which Kurt Hummel made his stomach flutter and his heart race, and it was mortifying. But the list kept growing: Kurt and the way his chest heaved when he took a deep breath; Kurt and how his cheeks flushed pink when he was embarrassed; Kurt and the casual way he pushed his hair off his forehead; Kurt and his perfect French pronunciation; Kurt and the way he licked his lips sometimes before he spoke.
When did I become such a pansy? he thought rather angrily. He made himself sick sometimes.
"Mr. Karofsky."
"Wh-huh?"
Professor Blackburn had stopped pacing the front of the classroom and was now staring frumpily at him. Slowly everyone else turned to look at him; even Kurt stopped writing on his notebook and looked over his shoulder. Dave used every ounce of willpower to avoid looking at him, and to formulate coherent sentences. What was the question?
"What is the event I'm referring to, Mr. Karofsky?"
Dave fumbled for a second. His eyes scanned his notes quickly. He had written so much stuff without noticing -Alabama arrest, civil rights bill, 'Ich bin ein berliner'... what the hell...?-, he tried to remember anything that the teacher might have mentioned very recently, anything at all, but his mind was stumped as he felt the color rising to his face, not because everyone was staring at him, but because he was staring at him too.
Please stop looking at me, he pleaded silently.
But then he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Kurt seemed to be trying to get his attention. He was mouthing something. Dave was too nervous to figure out what it was. Kurt tried again, slower.
M. L. K.
"Uh... Martin... Luther King Jr...?" he said, his voice hesitant. Kurt nodded discreetly.
"Yes, what did he do in 1963?" professor Blackburn said with an exasperated huff.
Instinctively he glanced at Kurt again, who was now mouthing something else. I had a dream.
"Um... he, er... delivered his I had a dream speech..." he trailed off, unsure if he should say something else. But then Kurt was nodding again.
Professor Blackburn sighed and started pacing again. "Good, yes. On August 28, Luther King gave his famous speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, only months after having been arrested in..."
The voice droned on again, and Dave tuned it out, a coolness wrapping around his forehead as he felt a rush of relief. He wanted to look down at his notebook and start organizing his notes, but he looked up at Kurt once again. The boy seemed to notice the stare he was getting, because he glanced over his shoulder again. Dave smiled at him, a brief, subtle smile that he hoped conveyed his gratitude. Kurt smiled back, a sympathetic kind of smile, but only for a split second, and he was following professor Blackburn's march around the front again.
Dave's eyes lingered on Kurt's neck once more, before he focused on writing down everything that was being said. This is ridiculous, he thought, kicking himself mentally. Get a grip, Dave.
"Melrose, I think your rabbit is masturbating."
Melrose stuck her head into the kitchen. Kurt was looking down into the makeshift pen she had improvised in one corner, under a table, at the small gray rabbit frolicking inside. She had decided to buy a rabbit that Sunday, to have something living and breathing inside the apartment with her at nights. The only thing was, she forgot to buy a cage.
"Oh yeah, he does that," she said, noticing that the rabbit was currently doubled over into an almost perfect furball, if not for the long ears sticking up like antenna.
"Rabbits masturbate?" Kurt asked.
"All the time. Ironically, I called this one Jack. I was gonna call it 'Fluffy', in your honor, though, but..."
Kurt snorted. "Jack the Rabbit. Oh, it's two kinds of ironic," he said with an amused smile.
Melrose was having Kurt staying over for the night, since she had decided it had been long enough since her sleepover at the Hudmel residence. Burt only agreed to let Kurt spend the night on a weeknight because Melrose begged him to let her have her personal decorator help her out with the finishing touches to her flat, so she could finally have papa Burt over. However, Kurt had been there for three hours, and they had done nothing other than emptying a couple of boxes and stashing every piece of clothing back into the closet. They were already in their pajamas, making hot chocolate, and Melrose plugged in her new Blu-ray player so they could watch 'The Wizard of Oz' and 'Les Mis' before bed.
"Glad you picked that up. When I told Treebeard, he drew a blank."
"Treebeard?"
"Your brother."
Kurt made a face. "You settled for calling Finn 'Treebeard'? Frankly, I'm disappointed."
"Leave me alone. Jabs on height can only be lame or recycled," she moaned, as she brought him a large mug and they plopped down on her couch.
"Jack's rather shameless, isn't he?" Kurt continued to stare at the rabbit.
"He gets that from me," Melrose said, hugging her knees to her chest.
"Do all animals masturbate?" he asked. Melrose shrugged.
"I doubt it. But you know what they say about bunnies," she said. "I don't really know all that much about them, though. But I bought a book." She pointed at the coffee table/trunk, and the pile of books on top of it. The one at the top bore the most adorable picture of a white bunny.
"You haven't read it."
"That's what I said. I'll get around to it."
"Meanwhile the poor creature will have to find a way to survive in your clueless hands."
"Hey, did you know that dolphins are the only other animals, besides humans, who have sex for other than mating? You know, just because it's nice?" Melrose said, nursing her cup of chocolate. "I guess they are smart, after all."
"Brittany thinks dolphins are gay sharks, so please don't tell her that," Kurt replied with a chuckle.
"Dolphins can be gay. I don't know about sharks. Or was it belugas?" she looked up at the ceiling in wonder.
"I don't even know how that would work," he said, laughing again.
Melrose seemed to stare at him for a moment, analyzing him.
"Are you still embarrassed to talk about sex?"
Kurt was glad he had already swallowed the hot chocolate in his mouth, but he had to wait a moment before inhaling, so he wouldn't sound at all surprised. When had he sounded embarrassed around Melrose? About anything?
"No, but I'm kind of embarrassed to talk about dolphin sex," he said finally, trying to be funny.
"If you don't mind me asking, have you and Blaine... done the dolphin?"
Kurt practically snorted. "That's such a weird way to put it. And I'm not talking about this with you."
"Why not?" she looked indignant. "Who do talk to about this, aside from Blaine? You have to have someone to dish out too, and if you can't with your dad, or your stepmother, or most of your friends, then who do you have left, other than your big, fabulous, all-knowing sister?"
He took a deep breath. "It's not that. It's just..." he trailed off and looked at the screen. Dorothy and Toto were still in black and white Kansas.
"I get it. You haven't even talked about it with him."
Kurt shook his head slowly. "Actually we have. But... we haven't discussed it as a couple."
Melrose's eyes were wide and one of her eyebrows was twitching. "You mean you talked about it before you started going out? Oh, you guys don't beat around the bush. Pun not intended."
Kurt blushed. "It's not like that. It kind of just came up."
"Was that a pun?" she asked laughing.
"Stop it. I just happened to mention that I had no idea... about anything. So he told my dad that he should give me 'the talk', for my own good. And my dad's too." He could talk about it almost normally now; back then he had been so utterly embarrassed, the whole situation had been so ridiculous.
Melrose had the strangest smile.
"What?" Kurt asked, wondering what exactly she might be thinking.
"Oh nothing," she said, "just, em... did papa Burt realize at the time that your future boyfriend was totally making sure you were prepped for doing the dolphin with him?"
"Would you stop calling it that?"
"Well, wasn't he?"
Kurt dissented. "He didn't think of me that way back then."
"Oh really?"
"In fact, he was into another guy, however briefly," Kurt said bitterly, recalling the horrible Gap incident. Melrose waved her hand dismissively.
"Didn't you say that he said he was attracted to you from the moment he saw you?" she asked.
"No, I said I was."
"Oh wait, then he's the one who told me."
Kurt did a double-take.
"He told you that? What did he say?"
"Why don't you ask him?" Melrose winked.
"What did he say?" Kurt asked again.
"Hey, what do you think of my new haircut?" she abruptly changed the subject. Kurt rolled his eyes.
"It's lovely. What did he say?" he snapped.
"Who, Blaine? He also liked it. He said it's bouncy and it suits me."
"Not that!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and gave her a warning look. Melrose sighed, like she was about to explain something rather simple to a young child.
"Didn't he hold your hand less than a minute after meeting you for the first time? Didn't he sing 'Teenage dream' like he was singing it only to you? Did he not learn your coffee order? Come with you to McKinley football games? Try to help you out with that bully situation you were having?"
Kurt was flabbergasted. "How did I not know all this?"
"Fluffy, he was totally into you from the beginning. He said he just wasn't sure you were into him too."
"He must have known. I'm not exactly subtle," he said, his voice getting higher.
"He said that maybe he was misreading you, that maybe you were just excited to hang out with another gay kid. So he'd rather not get his hopes up. That's why he turned his attention to that Jeremiah guy."
There was a pause, and Melrose continued to drink her hot chocolate and watch Glinda the Good Witch appear in a pink bubble, while Kurt stared at her curiously.
"When did he say all this?" he asked.
"On the first day of school. After we met," she responded, eyes glued on the screen.
"What, did you interrogate him or something?"
"Oh no, of course not," Melrose looked at him like he was crazy. "We all did," she added, grinning evilly.
"You all? Who is 'you all'?"
"Mercedes, Quinn, Santana, Tina, Rachel and me."
"Wow, he really spilled the beans," Kurt said with a grimace.
"To be fair to him, he politely declined to comment on whether you two had done the dolphin yet or not. He said it's none of our business. And he has a very good poker face."
Kurt turned very red and sat up on the couch, nearly spilling hot chocolate everywhere.
"You did not ask him that! And stop calling it 'the dolphin'!"
"It's either quitting that or 'Fluffy'," Melrose said after a moment of thought. Kurt considered this, nostrils flaring in frustration.
"The dolphin it is," he said with a sigh. Melrose chuckled.
"Whatever, my memory sucks anyway."
Ignoring the smoldering glare he was shooting her, she smiled into her mug in satisfaction and stroked his hand condescendingly, as if soothing the beast, until he settled back against the cushions and decided to try to watch the film while attempting to forget this conversation ever happened.
"Hey, I got a haircut, a pet rabbit and a sleepover with Fluffy; all in all a good day. Let me enjoy it."
Everyone seemed to be in a good mood for the rest of the week. Except maybe Sue Sylvester, who paraded down the hallways with her squad of cheerleaders and blood in her eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a survivor of Flight 815?" Sue snapped at Melrose as she passed her. Melrose cocked an eyebrow.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like an abstinence ad?" she shot back. But Sue didn't seem to hear her and she continued to walk away. Melrose shook her head. "She is the Antichrist, isn't she? I'm sure doomsday theorists everywhere are looking for her," she said.
"Probably," Mercedes laughed.
"I kind of like her," Blaine said.
"Only because she seems to like you," Melrose retorted.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, a few months ago she would've still hated him," Kurt interjected. "But she kind of doesn't completely detest the Glee club anymore, after we helped out with her sister's funeral. But you weren't here at the time, so..."
"Blaine wasn't here either," Melrose pointed out.
"Yeah, but I'm Kurt's boyfriend, and coach Sylvester likes Kurt. Ergo, she likes me," Blaine said.
"So I'm her only insult receptor," Melrose finished for him.
"That's not true. She still hates Mr. Schue. But, yeah, pretty much," Kurt shrugged. Melrose sighed dramatically.
"If only I cared," she said breathlessly.
"Good for you, you're gonna need that attitude," Kurt said, opening his locker and picking out stuff. Melrose gasped and reached for the metal door.
"Is this from last year's prom?" she gaped, holding a framed picture. "You guys look so cute."
Blaine glanced at the picture. It was the photograph of him and Kurt at the end of Prom night, taken by the professional photographer. Kurt was wearing his crown and had his arm around Blaine's shoulder. Blaine looked rather ecstatic, and one arm wrapped securely around Kurt's waist. The picture had been hanging from Kurt's locker door, having replaced the single shot of Blaine that used to occupy that spot. The word 'Courage' was still stuck below it, though.
"Really? Even when I was queen?" Kurt asked. Melrose nodded.
"That outfit, Your Queen, is the dog's bollocks," she replied in her best Eddie Izzard impression.
"Stop it," Kurt laughed.
"I just can't believe you wore a kilt. You're gutsy," she stared in admiration.
"I like kilts. I think they're sexy," Kurt said. Blaine and Mercedes nodded in agreement.
"I'm not disagreeing," Melrose said. "Believe me, I know. Here's proof of it."
Kurt blushed as she held the picture up like a model displaying a prize at a game show. He snatched the photo from her and hung it back on the door.
"Does your Scottish boyfriend wear one sometimes?" he asked, and realized his mistake a second too late. Melrose narrowed her eyes at him, and he bit his lip and looked as apologetic as he could, without the other two noticing. She just smiled.
"Yes. That's why I know they're sexy," Melrose replied without missing a beat.
"I'll have to try it out sometime," Blaine said. "You think I can pull it off?"
The response he got was the three others looking him up and down then nodding suggestively. Blaine blushed furiously.
"Well, I gotta go. Gotta go earn the paycheck," Melrose announced with a long sigh. "Bye, Mercedes, bye, Fluffy, bye, Flipper," she called, waving over her shoulder, and heading toward the French classroom.
"Did she just call me Flipper?" Blaine asked with a confused look. Kurt grimaced.
"I think so."
"Where did that one come from?"
"Never mind, don't try to analyze everything Melrose says. You'll go insane," Kurt said quickly.
"The other day she called me Foxy Cleopatra. I'm going to assume she was complimenting me," Mercedes offered with a shrug.
"Like I said, don't try to analyze it," Kurt said.
"All right, see you in Spanish," Mercedes said, walking away.
"Hey, after Glee club, do you wanna come watch a movie at my house? I thought I'd invite Sam and Quinn," Blaine said once she was gone. "I just got my DVD of 'The Social Network' back from Wes, who had sequestered it from the day I bought it. Quinn loves it, and Sam hasn't seen it. And I really want to watch the commentaries."
Kurt stopped rummaging for a pen and gave him a funny look.
"I know, I'm a dork. But it's a David Fincher film, and Aaron Sorkin dialogue, and it's Jesse Eisenberg and Andrew Garfield having awesome chemistry. You like Bambi Garfield, right?" Blaine continued, and smirked.
"Yeah, he is very Bambi," Kurt said with a fake dreamy sigh.
"When you say it like that it's kind of weird," Blaine chuckled.
"I'm sorry, I meant devastatingly handsome."
"And now when you say it like that it kind of makes me jealous."
"Jealous? You, Blaine Anderson, jealous of tall, British, Bambi-eyed, devastatingly handsome Andrew Garfield? Come on," Kurt joked.
"Leave me alone," Blaine pouted, and in response, Kurt pecked him on the cheek. He was about to shut his locker, when someone shoved him hard against it, sending him and some of his possessions crashing to the floor. Blaine barely had a chance to stare in shock, when he was pushed roughly too, and he lost his balance against the lockers.
"HEY!"
Blaine and Kurt looked first at the tall hockey player who had shoved them, then at the source of the voice. Melrose stood to their right, hands on her hips, and walked up to the tall boy.
"What was that, Stanton?" she asked, her voice calm.
"What?" Stanton stopped and turned and faked obliviousness. "I didn't do anything."
"Don't play up your idiocy. You shoved them into the lockers," Melrose said.
"I didn't. I bumped into them by accident," he said firmly, glaring at Kurt and Blaine. He obviously still held a grudge for having been put in detention for last week's events.
"Oh really?" Melrose pretended to be impressed.
"Really," he said, staring her down menacingly. But Melrose stared back unwaveringly, while everyone around them held their breaths and watched.
Suddenly her hand shot up in a flash, and Stanton's head snapped back with such force, it almost looked like he'd broken in two. He yelped in pain and his hands immediately went to his face.
"Oh god!" he whimpered.
"That was an accident too," she said bluntly.
"What the-"
"It's my shoulder. I have a tic. I'm seeing a doctor about it," Melrose faked embarrassment and shame.
She turned to leave as Stanton kept holding his nose with both his hands. "Don't let me catch you 'bumping' into students again. My knee might act up next time."
Some students laughed, while other gaped after her. Stanton scrambled out of the building still clutching his face and cursing under his breath.
Kurt and Blaine looked at each other as the students resumed what they were doing before the 'show'. They hurried to pick Kurt's stuff up from the floor, shoved it back into his locker, and ran after Melrose.
"You never taught me how to do that," Kurt said as they caught up with her.
"Do what?" she asked.
"That thing you did to his face."
"An uppercut?"
"Yeah. You never taught me how to throw a punch and defend myself."
"Your dad was supposed to teach you those things."
"Yeah, well, I think he kind of relied on you to be my bodyguard."
"I think my dad kind of hoped I'd learn this stuff for myself. Just like with everything else," Blaine said.
"Well, I didn't really learn real self-defense until I went out with an actual instructor. Before that, all I knew I learned from movies and cartoons, so mostly stomping on feet and kicking groins," Melrose joked.
"Well, you should have taught me then," Kurt said.
"Oh, darling, I didn't know you wanted to learn."
"Melrose, I'm gay. I don't want to, I have to learn how to defend myself," Kurt pointed out. "Just like you might have seen from today, or last week."
Melrose slowed down. "That's very true," she mused. "Well, I can teach you now, I guess."
"Can you teach me too?" Blained asked.
"Sure."
"Wait, you could teach a whole bunch of people," Blaine added. Melrose stopped and gave him a funny look.
"What?"
"Yeah, you could talk to Principal Figgins to let you do a self-defense course, after class, like a crash course of the basics. He can't say no; this is important stuff," Blaine explained, sounding enthusiastic.
"Oh, sure, because I have nothing better to do with my afternoons than teach a bunch of kids how to throw a decent punch," Melrose said with a roll of her eyes. Blaine's face fell.
"Oh, sorry, I guess you do probably have better things to do."
"No, that's why I said that," she replied with a look of resignation. "Did it sound like I was being sarcastic? Sorry, no, that was just a tone of utter frustration."
"Sorry your life sucks. Will you do it, then?" Kurt said. Melrose looked uncertain.
"I don't know, guys, I'm not exactly qualified."
"What are you talking about? You just teach us what you know and that's it," Blaine said.
"We could really use it. You're not gonna be around forever to defend us. You weren't around for me for a long time," Kurt said, and Melrose cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Don't try to make me feel guilty, Fluffy." She paused. "You really think I should do this?"
"It would be a great help," Kurt said.
"Okay, I'd love to," Melrose replied with a smile.
"Great!" Kurt grinned.
"Okay, I'll go talk to Figgins, and you make sure to get me students," Melrose started walking backward, in the direction of the principal's office. "Get me plenty of girls, I'd like to teach them to kick ass. Try to keep it low on wimpy kids, if you don't mind. I don't know how to handle them. Oh god, I'm getting excited. I have to go!"
She ran off, skipping like a little girl. Blaine and Kurt high-fived each other and headed to class.
Now that I see it, it looks kind of short. But anyway, the next part will be up right away.
And sorry if Dave seems like a sap, but it seems to me that it's where this character might be headed in the future. He likes Kurt, and Kurt turns him into a sap. Next thing we know, he'll be the one doodling big hearts in his notebooks with both their names inside. We never know what to expect, with RIB, now do we?
And the whole 'counting the ways that he makes his stomach flutter' was kind of a reference to '500 days of Summer', one of my favorite movies. When Tom lists what he loves about Summer, but he does it so openly, because he's a hopeless romantic. Dave's not, he's not even out of the closet yet, but that doesn't mean he doesn't think about these things.
The civil rights bill and 'I had a dream' speech bit was a suggestion by a friend; she said she'd like a 'message' about hope, because Martin Luther King Jr. spoke about tolerance, and Dave just needs a little hope in humanity that he can one day be accepted for who he is.
I also couldn't miss the opportunity to make a reference to my adored Jewnicorns (is that term still used?), Andrew Garfield and Jesse Eisenberg, my other favorite RPF boy couple (CrissColfer is my number one). I just thought Kurt and Blaine would be the kind of boys who would fancy someone like Andrew Garfield. Or is that just me?
Anyway, on to chapter 7!
-Vale