A/N: Okay, so here it is.
Gonna be honest. I'm unsure about this chapter. I dislike writing Santana simply because I don't think I do her justice. Enjoy anyway, por favor!
Anyone heard about the Silly Love Songs spoilers? DYING.
Blaine is an idiot. Really. But he has good reasons, I promise. Reasons that will develop.
I'm having a really hard time concentrating on typing this author's note because half my floor is watching "Get Smart" in the rec room down the hall and I really want to go watch it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
"Kurt! Wait!"
Kurt threw his bag into the trunk of Finn's Forrester (something he'd never do under ordinary circumstances, but you couldn't really blame him) and turned around, plastering a falsely pleasant smile onto his face.
Blaine was jogging across the parking lot, his shoulderbag flapping behind him. He slowed to a stop as he reached Kurt. "I thought we were going to watch a movie tonight?"
Oh god, really, was Blaine going to play like that?
Kurt clenched his jaw. "Finn offered to pick me up tonight instead of tomorrow morning," he said. Finn leaned out the window of the driver's seat and waved to Blaine. Blaine returned the wave with a slightly confused smile.
He turned back to Kurt. "Is something wrong, Kurt?"
"No, everything's just wonderful," Kurt said expressionlessly. "Honestly, I can't imagine why something would be wrong."
"Kurt-"
"Blaine, save it," Kurt said coldly. "I don't know what's wrong with you. I'm hoping you genuinely meant what you said last night and that you really aren't mad at me, but that's getting harder and harder for me to believe, with the way you've been acting. I need to be away from you for a weekend while you think about how you treat your friends. You're having family issues and I get that, okay? But that doesn't give you the right to be a bitch to me. Actually, pushing me away is the last thing you should be doing right now."
"Kurt-"
"I'm serious, Blaine," Kurt said firmly, shutting the trunk. "Just a weekend. I hope I can come back on Monday and things will be back to normal between us."
He climbed into the passenger's seat of the car, and didn't look back as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Blaine sat down on the ground, not really noticing or much caring when the slush seeped through his pants from the wet pavement.
Kurt was right, of course. Honestly, was there ever really a time when Kurt wasn't right? He was doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. He was distancing himself from one of his closest friends just because he'd discovered that maybe he was a little attracted to him. Okay, so the possibility of that freaked him out. But Kurt was right. It didn't give him an excuse to be an asshole.
There really should be a limit to how stupid he could be.
Finn glanced at Kurt. "So why did you ask me to come get you early?"
"Don't want to talk about it," Kurt said softly, staring pointedly out the window.
Finn let out a huff of breath. "Guy problems?"
"I said I didn't want to talk about it, Finn," Kurt snapped. "Can you just drive, please?"
Finn fumbled with the radio a bit, finally settling on a station that was playing modern pop music. Kurt, recognizing the song, reached over and changed the station.
"Hey, I like Katy Perry," Finn protested.
"If I have to listen to her auto-tuned voice rhapsodizing about skin-tight jeans and sheet forts one more time, I am going to cut someone," Kurt said, in a voice that was more bitter than was strictly necessary.
"Dude, seriously, what's wrong?" Finn asked.
Kurt struggled for a moment, then sighed. "It's Blaine."
"I knew it was guy problems!" Finn exclaimed triumphantly.
"Finn Hudson, I'm not above strangling the driver," Kurt threatened, and wondered vaguely when on earth he had gotten so violent.
Finn laughed, then sobered a little. "So, what's going on with that Blaine guy?"
And the concern in Finn's voice was so genuine, and Kurt had forgotten what a good brother Finn really was, so Kurt ended up spilling the entire story.
Finn listened quietly, only nodding his head once in a while until Kurt had finished.
"Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but do you think you might be overreacting?" Finn asked, and Kurt turned to stare incredulously at him. Finn backpedaled frantically. "Dude, don't look at me like that, you're freaking me out, all I meant is that if some kid transferred here from our competition Rachel would be grilling them to learn all their secrets, and you know that."
"That's not why I'm mad at him, Finn," Kurt said icily, although somewhere in the back of his head he recalled his totally inappropriate explosion at Blaine last night over the very same topic. "He apologized to me, and said he wasn't avoiding or ignoring me, and then he went and did it again."
"Okay, last year, when Quinn was pregnant, the only thing I wanted was a hug from my mom," Finn said. "And you said Blaine was having problems with his family, right?"
Kurt nodded.
"Maybe his parents aren't- you know- cool with him like Burt and my mom are. Maybe that's what's going on. And maybe right now all he wants is a hug from his mom but she won't give him one."
Kurt stared at Finn.
Finn shrugged with one shoulder. "It's just what I think."
"That's actually- really smart, Finn," Kurt said, slowly. "And entirely plausible."
"I'm not an idiot, you know," Finn said, sounding pleased with himself. "I mean, I'm not as smart as you, but I'm not as stupid as everyone thinks I am."
"I know you're not," Kurt said quietly, and the two smiled at each other.
xxxxx
"What the hell is wrong with you, man?" David asked, sitting down next to Blaine on the couch. "Flint just accidentally set fire to a stack of sheet music and you're not even reacting. Why aren't you crying or threatening the life of his unborn children?"
Blaine lifted his head from his hands. "I kind of screwed up," he whispered, a little hoarsely.
"Kurt?" David asked wisely.
Blaine nodded miserably, letting his head drop back into his hands.
"What'd you do?" David asked.
Blaine felt the couch dip beside him and knew Wes had joined them.
"I was an ass to him," Blaine said quietly, "twice. And I think he's about ready to kill me."
"Honestly?" Wes said. "I would be, too. The boy's practically a saint for putting up with you this week."
Blaine glared at him. "Thanks."
"Well, you want to tell us why you've been acting like an asshat for the past week?"
Blaine mumbled something into his hands.
Wes and David leaned in closer. "I'm sorry, didn't catch that?"
"I said, I think I like Kurt."
Wes and David exchanged loaded glances.
"Oh, wow," Wes said.
"I'm so surprised," David added unconvincingly.
Blaine looked up suspiciously. "You two are messing with me."
"No shit, Sherlock," David said.
"You are literally the last person besides Kurt himself to figure out that you like him," Wes said, patting Blaine's back. "But don't feel bad. You were never good at figuring out when you liked someone."
"But he's not my type," Blaine said, a little petulantly, throwing an arm over his eyes and falling back against the couch.
"Ever think that might be why you're attracted to him?" David asked. "Because how well have the past relationships with 'your type' of guys worked out?"
"I miss Damien," Wes said wistfully.
"Screw you both." Blaine groaned.
"Haters gonna hate," the two said together, then high-fived each other in appreciation.
"Do you two have a life outside the Internet?" Blaine asked.
"Of course we do," David said indignantly. "We spend just as much time harassing you as we do on the Internet."
"Oh shit, Flint just lit another stack of sheet music on fire, and I really can't buy the 'it was an accident' excuse this time," Wes said, leaping to his feet. "And that pile of Beyonce is dangerously close to him, so I'll just be-" he hurried off.
"Kurt is so mad," Blaine said through his fingers.
"And like we said before, it isn't surprising," David said patiently, prying Blaine's fingers away from his face one-by-one. "Come on, man up. So you screwed up. Dwelling on it isn't going to fix anything. What did he say before he left?"
"Just... that he was going home for the weekend, and he wanted things to be normal when he got back."
David leaned back in his seat, linking his fingers together in a thoughtful manner. "The way I see it, you have two options."
Blaine looked up.
"One, you can act like none of this happened when he gets back. Stop being a jerk, and go back to being yourself again. No matter how you feel about him. Act as if you two never fought, and he'll most likely go along with it. That's the easy option."
"Two?" Blaine whispered.
"You apologize. And you apologize well."
"Well?"
David sighed. "Blaine, you have a way with words, and we all know that. You were born with the ability to manipulate the English language to say exactly what you want to say, exactly how you want to say it. And you manage to charm the pants off of nearly everyone in the process."
Blaine grinned at that.
"But that shit doesn't work on Kurt. He sees right through it. You have to get rid of confident, smooth-talking Blaine for a few minutes and say what you need to say." One side of David's mouth quirked up in a smile. "You don't have to be perfect, you know."
"I'm not perfect," Blaine argued. "I give terrible advice, remember? And I get angry. And trip over everything. And-"
"Have a weird m&m fetish, can't dance to save your life, are always at least ten minutes late, I know," David said, holding up a hand. "I'm just saying, you don't have to be perfect for Kurt. It's not what he wants and it's not what he needs. Perfection makes people feel inferior. And if Kurt feels inferior to you, that's not exactly the best basis for a relationship."
"Right, as always," Blaine groaned. "Damn you for getting the good-advice-giving gene."
David shrugged nonchalantly, standing up. "I do my best."
"Get out of here." Blaine threw a pillow at him.
xxxxx
Kurt was absolutely sure he was hallucinating when he opened the door and Santana Lopez was standing on his front step.
He blinked. "Finn is in the basement with Puck, Santana."
She rolled her eyes and pushed past him into the house. "No, Kurt, I'm here to talk to you. Finn said you'd be home this weekend."
Kurt blinked again, then asked politely, "can I get you something to eat or drink?"
"Do you have oreos?" she asked, scanning the kitchen as she pulled off her Cheerios jacket.
He dug the packaged cookies out of Finn's junk food stash and tossed it to her, then sat on the kitchen table, propping his feet onto a chair and watching her warily.
She caught him. "What?" she snapped.
"Seriously, Santana, why are you here?" he asked. "I was under the impression you hated me."
"Just because I make gay jokes doesn't mean I hate you," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "It just means there are some jokes that can't not be said."
"That still doesn't answer my question."
Santana popped another cookie into her mouth. "Getting any action at that gay school?"
"Do you aim to be offensive with every sentence that comes out of your mouth?" Kurt asked severely. "Because rest assured, you succeed."
"Okay, Hummel, shut up. I'm actually here for a reason."
"Get to it, then," Kurt said, a little coldly.
"How are things with Blaine?" Santana asked.
"Firstly, Santana, we're both gay, so it'd be a little hard to sabotage our relationship like you do every other. That is, if we were even a couple, which we're not."
"I guess that answered my question," Santana said, actually looking somewhat disappointed.
"Well, I'm sorry to ruin your perfect streak of messing with every relationship you know," Kurt said sourly.
"Okay, I'm not all about screwing with people's lives, you know," Santana snapped. "I was actually hoping you and Blaine were getting it on."
"Why?" Kurt asked suspiciously.
"Cuz you deserve it, okay?" Santana asked, angrily. She shoved another oreo into her mouth. "And cuz the club and everyone in it has been totally messed up since you left. And I was at least hoping you got some action at that new school."
Was Santana actually telling Kurt that she missed him? He thought she might've been, in a weird, twisted way.
"Actually, Blaine's been an ass," Kurt said calmly, watching Santana's ponytail twitch irritably. "So my love life is no more functional than any one else's in glee."
"Well, that sucks," Santana said viciously, tearing open another sleeve of oreos. "Because the only relationship that's actually working in glee is Artie and Brittany's."
And suddenly, Kurt knew exactly why Santana had come over.
Delicately, delicately. With Santana, he absolutely could not approach this head-on. She might kill him.
"They're still together?"
"Yes," Santana said, angrily, "and it's so screwed up, they're like, the weirdest couple ever-" she stopped suddenly, glaring at Kurt.
"Jealous?" Kurt asked softly.
"No," Santana said firmly. "Just because you're living out your gay fantasy doesn't mean you have to delude yourself into thinking everyone around you has a gay fantasy too."
"Not everyone," Kurt said quietly. "Just you."
Santana slammed down the package of oreos. "Shut it, Hummel."
"Why did you come over here, Santana?" Kurt asked. "To eat all of Finn's oreos? To tease me about Dalton? To tell me how much you missed me?"
They matched their glares, eye-to-eye.
Santana was the first to look away. "How do I break them up?" she asked, in a near-whisper.
Kurt suppressed his smile. Now they were getting somewhere. In a strange, twisted way, he felt sort of honored to be the one Santana went to for something like this.
"Don't... be obvious." he said, smiling ruefully. "I made that mistake last year when I was sabotaging Rachel and Finn. Being obvious just makes them angry and less likely to want to be with you. And it'll make Artie more likely to plot revenge."
"Why are you doing this?" Santana asked quietly. "I've been such a bitch to you."
"Because," Kurt said, reaching out to touch her hand. "I know how it feels to want something so badly it hurts. Something someone else has."
"Blaine getting it with someone else?" Santana asked.
Kurt winced a little at the thought, then shook his head. "No. I'm talking from past experience." He caught the look on her face. "I don't like Finn anymore- at all- and thank god, when I think about it, we would have been so wrong for each other. It was a stupid crush that stemmed from a hero complex. But I remember how it felt. And if there had been even the slightest chance that he could have felt the same-" Kurt laughed slightly. "I would have been on that immediately."
"You and Finn would have been the weirdest thing... ever," Santana said, wrinkling her nose.
Kurt huffed indignantly. "So not the point of this."
Santana let her arm drape across the kitchen table, and tipped her head against it, looking up at Kurt. "So tell me what the point is."
"You can't treat this like another conquest," Kurt began gently. "For starters, because she's not like another conquest. You actually care about her- stop it, you do," he added when Santana made a noise in the back of her throat. "When you care about someone, it isn't all about seducing them, you realize."
Santana inspected her nails. "Seducing always works for me."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, because what you do is hook up with people. You have no idea how to be in a relationship, do you?"
Santana shrugged. "Who said I want to be in a relationship with her?"
Kurt fixed her with one of his signature 'bitch-please' stares.
She looked unsettled. Extremely so. Kurt figured that was only understandable.
"I should go," she muttered, picking up her jacket and rushing to the door. At the last moment she paused, her hand resting on the doorknob.
"Kurt?" she said.
He raised his eyes to hers.
"It was really good to see you," she admitted.
xxxxx
"Please do not tell me you're playing chess by yourself," Thad said, sitting down on the couch across from Blaine.
Blaine grinned a little. "Okay, I'm not playing chess by myself."
"Anyone else in this room would play with you."
"Wrong. Nobody in this room would play with me, because they've all been beaten by me about fifty or sixty times."
"That's true." Thad sighed. "There's only so many times you can whip our asses before our self-esteem is damaged."
"It's the downside to being reigning champion," Blaine said, with a shake of his head, before moving a chess piece. "Any reason you came over to talk, or was it just for idle chatter?"
"Andrew texted me," Thad said. "He can't come down because submission for his Physics lab is midnight tonight, and he started it an hour ago. But you left your phone in your room, and apparently your mom called."
Blaine felt his chest tighten. "Oh," he managed to say. "Andrew didn't pick up, did he?"
Thad gave him an odd look. "No, I don't think so. Why would he?"
"Nothing." Blaine tried to breathe normally and calculate how long it would be before he could call his mother and she would answer. There usually only one reason she ever called.
"Just thought I'd let you know." Thad stood up, turning around to go, then turned back. "Have you seen Kurt, by the way?"
"He said he was going home for the weekend," Blaine said, staring intently at the chessboard, so he wouldn't have to meet Thad's eyes.
"Ah." Thad coughed until Blaine looked up. "When you next see him, please let him know that his request to rent out the choir room for personal use next Tuesday has been granted?"
Blaine's head snapped up. What?
"That's all," Thad said, and left.
A/N: whatthefuck that ending, I know. Don't judge me.
I'm gonna go eat some Nutella.