Okay, so in light of Comic Con, and finding out from the Glee panel that Chord Overstreet is definitively NOT coming back this next season, you should expect him to show up a lot more in the following chapters. I love me some Sam Evans, and I'm gonna miss him, so I'll indulge in this lovely little character a bit, while I can, if you don't mind. I can't find myself letting go so easily.
If you'd like, the first very, VERY long scene is set (in my mind) to some Sigur Rós. I suggest 'Saeglopur' or 'Untitled 3 (Samskeyti)', since I was playing those incessantly while writing that part.
Warning: this part contains some considerable amount of smut.
I'm sorry if it comes across as cheesy. It's my first time writing smut, I kind of expect it to suck (pun not intended).
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. It belongs to Fox and Ryan Murphy/RIB/all those new writers they hired. This is only meant to get me safely through what remains of the hiatus.
Blackened blue eyes
by HappyValentina
Before it really started pouring, they had arrived at Blaine's house. It was empty.
"Where is everybody?" Kurt asked, taking off his coat. Blaine blushed.
"My parents left this morning for a weekend conference. Conveniently enough," he added as an afterthought.
"Yeah," Kurt replied, his throat dry.
"I'll take a wild guess and say that they trust me more than I thought."
"Why, because they think you might bring your boyfriend back to your vacant house and NOT do anything?"
Blaine shrugged. "It's not like they can't trust me because of that. But..."
"Beats sneaking around."
"Yeah," Blaine replied with a chuckle.
Kurt just stood there, glancing around the house, but not looking at anything in particular. As if he were just thinking over and over about what they were going to do. Blaine stood next to him and grasped his hand. He seemed to mull over things too.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked sheepishly. Kurt nodded slowly.
"More than anything."
"You don't sound so sure."
Kurt's breath came out with a shudder. "I'm just nervous. Aren't you nervous?"
Blaine gave a very obviously nervous laugh. "Yes, I am."
"But you want to do it?"
Kurt's eyes met Blaine's, and they were as eager and insecure as his own, but there was a sultriness about that stare that Blaine knew Kurt had probably no idea he was transmitting so effortlessly.
"Yes," he said breathlessly, weaving his fingers with Kurt's. With a timid smile, Kurt looked up at him, reassured, as Blaine started leading him upstairs.
Their footsteps echoed in the utter silence of the house. In fact, Kurt was sure that the anxious beating of his heart could be heard throughout the house, if only there was anyone else to hear it. Kurt tried to listen, over the rhythmic thumping in his ears; there was no one else for certain.
They reached the top of the stairs, and moved down the hallway. Blaine's fingers were twitching nervously, as he let go of Kurt's hand to open the door to his room. Everything was quiet inside, except for the thumping of their hearts. Blaine flipped the switch that turned on his bedside table lamp, and the room was bathed in warm yellow light.
Kurt looked around. The bed was unmade; there were some clothes lying around, and a few stray cds and books stacked messily on the bedside table and the desk. Kurt thought ridiculously that he could never have had sex for the first time in a room that looked like a pig stye, but this level of disarray was rather endearing. Everything smelled of Blaine.
Nervously, he turned to Blaine, who was slowly closing the door, and his hand lingered on the doorknob as he looked back at Kurt, as if half-expecting him to say something, make an excuse and ask to leave. But Kurt only let out the breath he had been holding and smiled, and Blaine seemed relieved. He took his hand off the handle and leaned heavily against the door, like he was afraid his legs would give out from underneath him.
"So..." Kurt said, no longer able to bear the silence.
Blaine's eyes darted around anxiously and licked his lips.
"I... I hope you don't see this as anything but good sense, but..." he started, and took a shuddering breath. "I already have everything we... might need."
Kurt tried to sound cool and collected. "Why would I protest to good sense?" Blaine shrugged exaggeratedly and avoided his eyes.
"I don't know, because it makes it seem like... like I've been eager for this to happen? It's not that I'm not, but I didn't think much about it because... I-I didn't feel ready either. But I wanted to be ready for whenever we decided together to..." he swallowed hard, "because it's my first time and it's your first time, and I wanted it to be spontaneous, but also I wanted to be prepared, because I wouldn't want something like not having... condoms at hand to ruin the moment, even though it's the first time for both of us, so maybe it's not such a big deal, since neither of us has ever been with anyone else , and it's not like we can get each other pregnant."
By the time he was done talking, Kurt's legs felt like jelly. It just hit him in that instant that they were really going to go through with this. Because the more he thought about it, standing there in Blaine's unkempt room, the more he wanted it; he was impatient, but he didn't know how or where to begin.
Blaine looked every bit as nervous as Kurt himself was feeling, as he stepped up to him so they were face to face. Like he was trying to dispel any doubt left in Kurt's mind, he slid his hand to the back of Kurt's neck and kissed him softly on the lips. It worked perfectly, because suddenly they weren't all that nervous or hesitant anymore.
They were used to being intimate; there was a well-balanced tenderness and ferocity between them, uncommonly balanced for two boys their age. But this was different, the energy was different. They had never before been completely naked with each other, and this time, they knew that the making out led to something more. It was scary, but it was also perfect. It was just them, just Blaine and just Kurt.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asked softly, suddenly sounding like he had run a mile.
"I'm perfect."
Quickly and rather clumsily, they toed off their shoes and socks while trying to not break the kiss. Blaine's hands rested on Kurt's hips, and he was bunching the fabric of his shirt in his hands in anticipation, while Kurt's own hands were on either side of Blaine's neck, feeling the pulse there.
Suddenly the shirt was coming up over his head, and Kurt lifted his arms obligingly, and as soon as the tight black shirt was discarded, Blaine's hands found his and took hold of them, before Kurt could wrap his arms around his chest, shielding himself from view in a sudden bout of shyness. Intertwining their fingers, Blaine stared for a moment, taking in his boyfriend's body. He leaned forward slowly and brushed his lips against his collarbone, and Kurt felt every single hair in his body stand on end, letting out a shuddering sigh, as Blaine's hands climbed up his back, resting on his shoulder blades, pulling him toward him.
Kurt was suddenly very aware that it was Blaine touching him. He swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple grazing Blaine's lips as they ghosted over his throat. He captured Blaine's mouth and kissed him as deeply as his bewildered senses would allow him, until they were both breathing heavily and desperately. He felt a familiar warmth pooling low in his belly.
"Bed?" Blaine breathed, barely lifting his lips off of Kurt's.
"Bed, yes," Kurt barely nodded.
Carefully, Blaine pushed him down onto the mattress, pushing the bunched-up duvet out of the way, and Kurt lay down on the bed sheets. Blaine slowly kissed his way down from Kurt's temple, over his chest, and across his belly, stopping to plant a wet one right below his navel. His hands traced every muscle on Kurt's torso for a long, teasing minute, and then Kurt closed his eyes as he felt them latching on to the front and working on the button and zipper of his pants, taking a bit longer than expected.
"Sorry, my hands are still shaking," Blaine apologized, his face still so close to his belly that his breath tickled his skin. Kurt let out a light laugh and reached down to help. Without a word, they managed to get the pants undone, and then Kurt lifted his hips so that he could slide the leather pants off. He did it slowly, more out of nerves of exposing so much of himself rather than to be sexy, but judging from the look on Blaine's face as he helped him tug off the garment, he didn't even need to try.
Kurt grabbed the hem of Blaine's black t-shirt and started pulling it off, Blaine's back arching with the motion, until it came off over his head, and it was tossed away. Blaine undid his jeans and stepped out of them, leaving them in a heap on the floor. With a mirthful laugh, he lowered himself gently onto Kurt's frame and began kissing him, his lips stretched by his smile, and Kurt's sighed with pleasure as he felt their bodies touching on every inch, his hands traveling to his boyfriend's back, caressing every muscle, sliding up the dent of his spine. They must have stayed like that for almost five long, desperate minutes, until Blaine paused and looked deep into Kurt's eyes, perhaps waiting for a signal to go on. As if the two of them grinding up against each other was not clear enough.
He slid down the length of Kurt's torso and hovered close to his groin, his fingers sneaking playfully under the waistband of his boxer briefs, that thin layer of black cotton that did absolutely nothing to conceal how hard he was.
Blaine sneaked his hands between the mattress and Kurt's ass, and hooked his fingers on the back of the garment, pulling it down gently, all the way down to Kurt's ankles, and letting them fall to the floor. Kurt propped himself onto his elbows and observed Blaine, as the other boy placed random kisses up his left leg, and he shivered and swallowed hard. Suddenly it dawned on him that he was flat on his back on his boyfriend's bed, completely naked, and said boyfriend was touching every part of him. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, and certainly never imagined that it would feel so good.
Wordlessly, Blaine looked up at him, as if asking for permission again, and Kurt had to close his eyes, because it was all too big and he was feeling so much of everything, that he was afraid he'd wake up and realize it had all just been a dream.
He only opened them again when he felt Blaine's breath in his groin, and his cheek grazing his hipbone, and Kurt felt the tremor building up all over his lower body in anticipation; with one last glance at Kurt's perfectly expectant face, Blaine kissed the tip before taking him in all at once.
The jolt that he felt, he could not describe; all Kurt could remember of that first moment was gasping and falling back against the mattress, and his hips moving on their own accord, against Blaine's mouth. Blaine's hands held him firmly down, as Kurt writhed and moaned under his grip.
The enthusiasm with which lips and tongue moved up and down and around him was driving him crazy. Or maybe it was the sight of that mess of dark curls between his legs, and he spread his knees further apart, as far as they would go, his fingers becoming entangled in the curls as he felt a rumble deep in his belly, and his breathing accelerated, and Blaine was making noises around him, and it was so incredible, he thought he was going to see stars.
"B-Blaine," Kurt breathed. "Blaine, I'm gonna... I'm-"
Blaine gave him a once over before pulling off, and climbed over Kurt, kissing him deeply and long. Kurt tasted himself on Blaine's pink, swollen lips; he thought for a moment that it should be disgusting and weird, but instead it was just that much more of a turn on.
"Not yet," Blaine whispered, and he leaned back to retrieve something from the drawer of his bedside table. Kurt watched him shimmy out of his own boxers clumsily, and he blushed against his better judgment and looked up at the ceiling. He was about to see his boyfriend naked, completely naked, and it was almost too much. He heard the bottle cap popping open, and Blaine was kissing him again, on the forehead, on the cheek, jaw, chest, and all the way down to his groin again, and suddenly he was whispering into Kurt's ear "tell me if I'm hurting you."
Desire, longing, lust, all these feelings were rushing through Kurt's head as he felt Blaine's fingers grazing his entrance, and he whimpered.
Blaine pushed one finger inside, and Kurt was fisting handfuls of the bed sheets and biting down on his lip so hard that he thought it would start bleeding. He willed his lower body to relax, to give in. The other boy used his free hand to stroke his chest soothingly, while planting doting kisses on Kurt's knee.
He added a second finger gently, and then a third finger, and Kurt hissed and squirmed against them, until he was practically grinding against Blaine's hand. He gasped when Blaine bent his fingers in a way that he reached a point inside that sent a pulsating bolt of energy, and he shuddered violently.
"Oh my god, Blaine..." he could barely speak at this point. "Just... please..."
Blaine withdrew his fingers as gently as he could, and continued to kiss his boyfriend's knees. He reached for something beside Kurt.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Kurt swallowed and nodded, running his hands over his hair repeatedly.
Blaine leaned back onto his heels, and tried to open the condom, but his hands were still shaking.
"I'm just gonna-" he whispered, his voice quivering slightly.
"Here, let me," Kurt said, taking it from Blaine, and even though his own fingers were also shaking, he managed to open the packet, and he motioned for Blaine to come closer. Placing his hands on the mattress at either side of Kurt, Blaine leaned forward and hovered above him, while Kurt reached down and rolled the condom on, his breath catching in his throat, because he realized this was a part of Blaine he had never touched before. This realization did not escape Blaine either, because his cheeks were suddenly streaked with a redness that Kurt rarely got to see. Curious, Kurt stroked him gently, to get a better feel of him, and Blaine made a broken noise and he buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck; it thrilled Kurt to know that he could do that, that he was responsible for that reaction.
"You have to stop that, or I won't be able to keep going," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's neck, and Kurt reluctantly obeyed, sneaking a kiss to Blaine's ear as the other boy propped himself up again and onto his knees.
Blaine was so nervous again, that he ended up getting lube everywhere, but if Blaine didn't care, then Kurt certainly didn't; feeling the press of Blaine's knees against the back of his thighs, and the arms hooked under his knees, and the hands gripping his hips, all he wanted right now was release.
"You'll tell me if you want me to stop, right?"
The question was timid, and Blaine was looking down long lashes at him, a pleading look upon his face, like he just wanted Kurt to reassure him. Of what? Of the fact that he wanted this so badly it hurt? Kurt had never been more sexually charged before, never felt so much energy thrilling through his entire body, he thought his heart would burst from his chest; he didn't know quite how to convey to Blaine that he never wanted to stop, that he wished this, all of this, would never end.
One hand shot instantly to Blaine's face, thumbing his cheek.
"I love you," he said.
Smiling somewhat more relaxed, Blaine began to push in, and Kurt's eyes slammed shut.
It was uncomfortable at first, but slowly that discomfort turned into a sensation of heat and friction and so, so much pleasure, and Kurt exhaled a quivering breath.
Blaine was so careful to stay still, until he could see in Kurt's face that it was okay to move, but there was a yearning on his face, to make it as incredible as he could. He pushed in further, and underneath him, Kurt twitched and arched his back and clutched at Blaine's arms, and he was making noises that drove Blaine out of his mind, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to pump fast and hard, because it felt pretty incredible. All around him, Kurt was clenching and relaxing in turns, and Blaine pursed his lips to keep from shouting something rather profane. He had never felt this way before, like everything was too big and fantastic, and he couldn't manage coherent thoughts.
He managed to go deep enough so that he could lean forward and kiss Kurt and look into his eyes and tell him that he loved him. Blue eyes stared back into hazel ones, and there was longing etched deep, and Blaine felt his heart swell.
He held himself up with one arm, while the other one was bracketed beneath Kurt, somewhat cradling him to his chest, as close as he could possibly hold him, like he wanted no space between them.
He started pulling out and pushing back in, and their bodies writhed against each other, and Kurt's legs wrapped around Blaine, pulling him all the way in, as Blaine continued to piston his hips, and they both continued to make noises they had never heard from one another, and whispering each other's names desperately. At times Blaine would seem to suck the noise right off Kurt's lips, and other times he just seemed to echo him.
They didn't know what they were doing; the rhythm was messy and a little too eager. But they no longer cared, they just got used to it. As Blaine pushed in and Kurt pushed up against him, their ragged breathing was almost synchronized. Every nerve in their bodies was suddenly, seemingly, on the same wavelength. The jitters were almost gone, and it was replaced by want. More feelings, more sensations, more, just more of this.
Kurt clutched at his back, at his shoulders, holding onto him as if he were about to fall if he lost his grip. He was biting and sucking at his neck desperately, like it was the only thing keeping him from screaming out uncontrollably. He moaned into the crook of Blaine's neck.
He felt his senses somewhat clouded, as they rocked against one another, longing for they didn't know what, but this flood of sensations they shared, it was more than they could take. No amount or form of expectations could've prepared them for it. To be in that place, on the brink, together, could not be compared to anything.
Blaine was going faster now, and Kurt couldn't help but grind back up to meet each thrust, like his life depended on it. Blaine grabbed one of Kurt's hands and intertwined their fingers on the mattress, behind Kurt's head; for some reason, Kurt felt that gesture was the sexiest thing ever, and that was what pushed him over the edge.
Kurt's head snapped back as he felt the tremor build up and up inside him until it was too much for his body, and he orgasmed; he saw a white flash and felt a ringing in his ear. He drew in breath so fast and sharp, and he seemed to choke back a scream. His toes actually curled.
Blaine was not far behind, gasping, shaking, making gloriously weird faces and noises to rival Kurt's own, hips bucking, like he had been hit by lightning. He blinked several times, as if his vision had been momentarily impaired, and finally focused on Kurt's face, watching him, as they rode down their climax together; he watched, and couldn't help thinking that his boyfriend looked glorious, in the throes of an orgasm.
He lifted his hand to stroke Kurt's face adoringly, staring long at him, and kissed him so sweetly that Kurt felt a lump in his throat.
Despite the jitters and the clumsiness, Kurt thought that was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced. He wanted Blaine to know, somehow, but Kurt couldn't talk at the moment.
Blaine could hardly believe what had just happened. He'd had many expectations about his first time, but it was all a pale shadow of what it really turned out to be. He never imagined he could feel more connected to anyone. He never thought he could love anyone as much as he loved Kurt now. It was a weird feeling of longing, a desire for nearness, even though Kurt was still there, wrapped so closely around him.
He almost didn't want to say anything; he felt he could make no sense at the moment, no words would convey the elation that he felt right then. But he thought he should say something.
"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly. Kurt nodded, his breathing starting to even out.
"Do you need anything?"
The younger boy chuckled and shook his head.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Better than ever," Kurt finally replied, biting his lip.
"I'm sorry, I just... can't think straight. I'm still so nervous, and just..." Blaine trailed off. He really couldn't form logical ideas. So he started kissing Kurt eagerly, and Kurt kissed him back, and he liked the idea of not having to think about anything else at the moment.
"Can we just stay like this for a while?" Kurt whispered against Blaine's cheek.
"Anything you want," Blaine replied just as low.
"Then maybe we could stay like this forever."
Blaine chuckled. He pulled out gently, although he felt Kurt whimper quietly in protest, and stood up on wobbly knees to go into the bathroom for a second. He discarded the condom and grabbed a towel to clean himself and Kurt up. He crawled back into the bed, tossed the used towel onto the floor, and switched off the bedside lamp, while Kurt rubbed his eyes.
"I love you so much," Kurt said, smiling sleepily.
"I love you more," Blaine replied, and kissed him on the forehead before laying down next to him, putting his head on Kurt's chest, so that his ear was directly over his heart. He felt himself relax with Kurt's arms around him, his own arms wrapped around his boyfriend's lean waist, breathing him in, listening to the beating of his heart until it lulled him to sleep.
Blaine woke up. There was streetlight glare pouring in through the windows; he forgot to close the curtains. He had become otherwise occupied and forgot to do it.
He glanced at the bedside clock. Two o'clock in the morning. It was Saturday, there would be no one else in the house all day, and he had every intention of sleeping in. But something obviously stopped him.
Rolling onto his left side, he came face to face with Kurt, and smiled. The boy looked almost ethereal, all porcelain skin, his eyes closed, his breathing even, the mop of tousled chestnut hair on the white pillowcase. He was lying halfway on his stomach, with a hand placed on the mattress between them, and Blaine grabbed it and stroked his fingers with his thumb. It pained him to have to disturb what obviously looked like peaceful slumber.
"Kurt, wake up," he whispered, leaning in closer. He placed a kiss on his shoulder, and rubbed his back.
"Hmm..."
"I have to take you home."
"Mmmm..."
"Come on, seriously," Blaine whispered, caressing Kurt's head, running his fingers through his hair and placing a kiss on top.
"Mmmno..." Kurt whined, turning over slightly and wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist, effectively pulling him in and keeping him there.
"Kurt, come on," Blaine said, but he didn't do much else to protest, because he really liked that embrace, and for a moment, he was very tempted to give in. But his heavy eyelids flew open and he felt a twinge or regret as he pulled Kurt's arms off and got up.
"Sorry, love, but I think it's best if you sleep in your bed tonight," he said sourly, "if you don't, your dad's going to kill me. Or maybe he'll kill both of us. Either way, I don't wanna die."
He pulled Kurt to a sitting position by his arms. The other boy's eyes remained closed, but his brow furrowed.
"Come on, I'll have you home in no time, and then you can continue to sleep in your own comfy bed," Blaine said.
"I want to stay."
"And I want you to stay."
"Then I'll stay."
"I don't want to risk death, seriously. I'm pretty sure your dad's worried sick about you, and I get the feeling he might have acquired some kind of firearm by now."
Kurt mumbled something unintelligible as he allowed Blaine to pull the covers back, and he shivered slightly against the chilly air, standing up sluggishly.
Blaine walked to his dresser to fetch a pair of boxers, pajama pants and a t-shirt, and pulled them on. He looked for Kurt's boxers and the rest of his clothes, and turned to hand them to him. Kurt was standing beside the bed, rubbing his face sleepily, seemingly no longer self-conscious about being completely naked.
There was a second, as Kurt stood there in the dim pool of light from outside, all taut pale skin, in which Blaine had to regain his breath, because he could almost not believe his eyes.
"How are you so beautiful?"
"What?" Kurt asked, a little befuddled, and even in the semidarkness, his blush was very visible on his milky white cheeks.
"And why do I sometimes feel like I'm the only one who notices? It's seriously not possible."
"Blaine, I'm too tired to process you being adorable right now. Since you won't let me stay, at least give me something to wear home."
Blaine chuckled and held out the boxer briefs to him. Kurt put them on rather clumsily.
"I don't want to put the leather pants back on," he complained.
Blaine looked for another pair of pajama pants from one of his drawers, and a clean t-shirt. Kurt, however, had snatched something from the floor, the black t-shirt Blaine had worn as part of his Bono look, and started pulling it on.
"Kurt, I've been wearing that t-shirt all day, it's probably a little sweaty," Blaine pointed out.
"I don't care. It smells like you. If I can't stay overnight, at least I'll be in my bed pretending I'm next to you," Kurt replied, wrapping his arms around himself.
Blaine covered the five paces separating them at the moment and pulled Kurt into the most passionate kiss he could muster at two in the morning. He only ended it abruptly because otherwise he wouldn't be able to stop.
"Lucky for me, my whole bed smells of you," he whispered, still holding him so close that he was breathing into his neck. Kurt laughed, tickling Blaine's neck in turn.
"You're such a cheeseball," he muttered against the skin.
"You started it."
"I know."
There was a long moment in which they just stood there, in their own little bubble, holding each other, breathing in each other's scent, and they both realized they had never been happier. After everything they had been through, individually and together, Blaine lived for these moments of peace, these breakthroughs, these rare instances where nothing else existed; there was only them.
Kurt suddenly wished he was back at his old house. Because then he would've still lived in the basement and it would've been twice as easy to sneak into his room.
But no. They had to move to a bigger house, and his room now had to be two stories up.
He had never climbed up a wall before; he wished he had the litheness and flexibility he used to show as a kid, when he would pretend to be Spiderman and jump over furniture.
The thing was that he forgot his key in the car, and Finn had taken the car, and it now sat in the driveway with all the doors locked, and there was no way in hell that Kurt was ringing the doorbell.
He considered texting Finn and asking him to open the door, but there would be questions involved. Kurt had neither the interest nor the energy to answer questions at two thirty in the morning.
So now he was climbing up the wall to his bedroom, supporting himself on ledges and doing some major damage to Carole's ivy, while Blaine watched from below.
"Don't worry. If you fall, I'll catch you," Blaine had said when they decided on the plan. Kurt tried not to think of how cheesy and romantic this all was, so he shook his head and laughed.
"If I fall and you try to catch me, we'll both break our necks," he joked.
"I'll take my chances," Blaine replied, pulling Kurt into a long goodnight kiss. Kurt didn't know how he expected to climb now that his legs started to feel like jam again.
Grunting and panting, Kurt grabbed onto the top windowsill and grinned victoriously. He pushed the window open gently. Exhausted, he strained to pull himself up the last two feet onto the window frame, but instead he unexpectedly pitched forward and landed on the floor of his room with a thud.
"Are you okay?" came the loud hiss from down below.
"Stop asking me that," Kurt said to himself painfully, rubbing his head where it smashed on the floor. He was about to look out the window and tell Blaine that he was fine, when the light suddenly came on, and he squinted in pain, only to find his dad standing at the doorway.
Kurt's deer-in-headlights look rivaled the annoyance on Burt's face, all sleepy-eyed and frumpy, with one hand on the doorknob and the other on the light switch. He stared at Kurt blearily and expectant, and Kurt bit his lip nervously.
Instinctively, he stuck a hand out the window and waved vigorously, hoping the signal of 'run for your life' would come across. Two seconds later, however, his schoolbag shot through the window and hit him square in the back, before he heard hurried footsteps on the grass and the sound of a car door slamming and a car driving away fast.
Burt sighed and still said nothing. Kurt swallowed hard and watched his father's face for any sign of another stroke.
"You could've used the spare key under the flowerpots, instead of risking a major injury," his father said very calmly. Kurt's eyes darted around in confusion.
"We have a spare key under the flowerpots?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.
Burt didn't answer. He rubbed his face with both hands.
"I wish you had called me to tell you where you were going to be," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Kurt hesitated before talking.
"I... I'm sorry, dad... I was..."
"I know what you were probably doing."
Kurt felt his mouth go a little dry.
"We fell asleep while watching a film," he said quickly. Burt sighed tiredly again.
"You don't have to lie to me, Kurt."
"Yes I do. This is embarrassing enough."
Kurt wasn't sure if his father laughed or snorted or made a noise of being irked.
"You don't have to be embarrassed," Burt said finally. "But I'm your father, and I deserve to know that you're okay, especially if you're going to be out late. I don't appreciate having to stay up all night, worried."
"I'm sorry."
"You wouldn't answer your phone."
"I'm really sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry."
"I really am."
"I know."
Kurt couldn't move away from the window. There was no way he could approach his father then.
"We didn't plan this," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Burt rubbed his eyes and stood up.
"It's fine, Kurt. Just, next time, let me know you'll be home late... or not at all," he said, heading to the door. "And by the way, you don't have to go into details," he added as an afterthought.
"So you're not mad?" Kurt asked sheepishly.
This time, he knew that was a chuckle from his father.
"No, son, I'm not. I'm just sleep-deprived," Burt yawned. "Although I just... I kind of wish you had waited until you were thirty."
Kurt blushed furiously but managed a smile. "Okay."
"But as long as... you know... as long as you remember everything I told you."
"I'm gonna jump out the window now," Kurt said sarcastically.
"Sorry. It's fine. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, dad. Thank you for not being mad."
Burt rolled his eyes and started to leave. He stopped and turned around.
"Hey son?"
"Yes?"
"Would you kindly remind Blaine that I own a shotgun and I know how to use it?"
"Dad, seriously, don't make me jump out the window."
"Sorry. Goodnight."
When Burt had flipped the light off and closed the door behind himself, Kurt finally let out a long sigh and barreled into his bed, before had much time to think of how predictably the best night of his life had ended on a slightly mortifying note.
"Dave! Breakfast!"
"...to see if I still feel... I focus on the pain..."
"David?"
"... the only thing that's real..."
Dave groaned into his pillow and shut his eyes harder, but his mother's voice had already yanked him back to reality. He had no idea what time it was, but he knew he was still tired and he had a headache, because sleeping last night had been no easy feat. At least it was Saturday, and he got to sleep in a little bit, but he knew he couldn't stay in bed all day.
"...try to kill it all away... but I remember everything..."
Dave's hand shot out toward the radio alarm clock and shut it off. He hated that song. He liked Nine Inch Nails, but he hated that song.
He had been dreaming again. No, not dreaming; fantasizing. He couldn't remember exactly when the fantasies started, but it was horrible. They never made him feel better, he just woke up feeling miserable.
Because it all had to do with Kurt.
They started out simple enough; he re-imagined that fateful encounter in the boys' locker room; Dave had wanted to get an idea of how everything would've gone down if Kurt hadn't pushed him away when he tried to kiss him a second time. He pictured Kurt kissing him back; he pictured himself pressing the smaller boy up against the lockers, hands grappling at his chest, sneaking under his shirt. He could almost feel Kurt's breath against his face, and hear him moan into his mouth.
Lately, most fantasies took place in his own room. The sight of Kurt lying in his bed had been a fresh new way to torture himself, apparently, since the old one seemed to have grown tired. Sometimes Santana was there, egging him on. A few times, instead of Kurt it had been Sam Evans. But mostly, Dave imagined pinning Kurt under him, ravishing his mouth, and Kurt snaking his hands through his hair, grinding his hips up against him.
But it never went much further than that, because he'd stop himself as soon as he started feeling uneasy. He felt bad. He felt like he was using Kurt. He was using the image of the boy whom he used to torment, the boy who had actually tried to help him, to quell a desire that he didn't quite understand.
He kept asking himself the same questions ever since. Did this mean he wanted to have sex with a boy? Or just Kurt? And occasionally Sam Evans? And why did Santana had to pop up everywhere?
There was a knock on the door.
"Dave, honey?" his mother asked, popping her head into the room. "Are you not feeling well?"
Dave sat up nervously, clutching the blanket around his shoulders, to conceal what? The Kurt Hummel that was stretched out on his bed, in his mind?
"Mom, please knock before coming in," he said quickly in a flustered tone.
"I did knock," Mrs. Karofsky replied sweetly, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"No, mom, I'm fine. Just tired," Dave said groggily, rubbing his face.
"Are you working yourself too hard? Is coach Beiste being too tough on you boys?"
"No, it's not football. I'm just... I had trouble falling asleep last night."
"I've told you not to play Angry Birds until too late," she chuckled. "Well, it's Saturday, at least you can relax. Go out with your friends or something. It's been a while since I've seen Azimio around here. Are you two not in good terms anymore?"
Dave felt bad about lying to his mother. He wished he could tell her everything. He wished he could tell her that the reason he and Azimio weren't very close anymore was because he was afraid of what he and his other friends might say if they ever found out that he was gay; so gay, in fact, that he was currently fantasizing about the boy he once bullied into transferring schools.
But he looked at his mother and shook his head. "Nah, I have a lot of homework. I think I'll just get that out of the way first."
Mrs. Karofsky nodded in understanding and sighed. "Okay, good, but you shouldn't stay cooped up in your room all weekend. You have to face the world at some point," she smiled at him. "And come downstairs for breakfast. There's waffles."
"Be there in a sec," Dave replied, his face falling as he watched her leave. He slumped back onto the pillow and let out a low, frustrated groan. There was no way he could face the world today, at any point. Not until he could get over the hot, disgusting feeling of embarrassment.
But there was always a slip-up. There was always a tiny, fleeting memory of the taste of a kiss, and he was feeling miserable all over again.
That saturday, Kurt finally woke up, the latest he had ever slept in, and he had the stupidest grin on his face. The memories of the previous night, and realizing he was still wearing Blaine's black t-shirt and pajama pants, put him in a good enough mood that he barely recalled having a really uncomfortable encounter with his father. He showered and dressed and headed downstairs to face whatever his now well-rested father might have to say after having had time to mull over the situation.
His mobile trilled suddenly with the sound of an incoming message. It was as if Blaine had known the moment he'd be waking up.
"Greetings from cloud nine," it simply read. Kurt's face split into an even bigger smile.
"Kurt?"
He turned to the door in surprise, as if he had been caught red-handed. Finn was sticking his head in through the door.
"Ahem, do you know how to knock?" Kurt demanded in annoyance.
"Sorry, I thought you were asleep. You got in pretty late last night, didn't you?"
"Uh, yeah, we were watching a film last night and we fell asleep," Kurt lied.
"Oh well, mom told me to ask you if you were coming down for breakfast," Finn said.
"Eh, sure, be right there."
"There's waffles."
"Great."
"See ya."
"Bye."
At breakfast, Kurt could barely look at his father, let alone talk to him, and Burt seemed to try to avoid looking back at him too. Finn shoveled food into his mouth obliviously, and Carole didn't voice that she perceived an air of tension in the air.
Kurt was glad to do a whole bunch of chores with Carole just to have a parent to talk to without feeling the scrutiny. Although he suspected that Carole knew, because she looked like she was coming slightly unhinged, like she was holding a bunch of excited questions in.
Saturday was now usually the night for official family dinners, before the boys would head out with friends or make other plans. Burt asked Melrose to come over for dinner, and after that, she and Kurt were going to 'Melrose place' to hang out; Blaine and Mercedes were coming too.
At six that evening, Kurt was in his room getting dressed and primped up, when he heard the doorbell and Finn opened the door.
"Bonsoir, grand oiseau," Melrose said upon entering. Kurt laughed to himself. He could practically hear the smirk on Melrose's face.
"Eh, bonsoir," Finn replied feebly, obviously unaware that Melrose was still, unbeknownst to him calling him Big Bird. She greeted Burt and Carole, and eventually made her way upstairs.
"Hey, Fluffy," Melrose said, appearing at Kurt's doorway, wearing a blue dress and a black leather jacket. She plopped down onto his bed and watched him as he worked on his hair. Kurt looked at her in the mirror and smiled bigger.
"Hi, Melrose, what have you been up to?" he said, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
"Not much. My sweet, geeky neighbor from downstairs came over last night with her Harry Potter DVDs and we had a Harry Potter marathon with butterbeer," she said. "And by 'butterbeer' I mean my own recipe for butterbeer, which consists of toast with butter and a beer. Or seven. One for each film."
"Sounds like you had a good time," Kurt said.
Melrose didn't reply. She was suddenly staring intently at him, her eyes narrowed.
"What?" he asked, smiling puzzled as he noticed the questioning look she had.
Melrose's eyes grew wide and she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. He was taken aback.
She pointed a finger at him slowly. "You... did you do... 'the dolphin'?" she whispered.
He could only stare in surprise.
"You did, didn't you?" her o-shaped mouth turned into a mischievous grin. Kurt bit his lip, but his smile betrayed him.
"Oh my god! You did!" she continued to whisper excitedly. "I knew it!"
"How did you know?" he asked, not at all perturbed, turning around to face her.
"Well, you have that glow about your face, that spells out 'I had the best night ever, and I can't think of anything else'. Plus, you can't stop smiling," she said in a sing-song voice.
"I can't stop smiling," he admitted pathetically.
"It's like you slept with a coat-hanger in your mouth," she added.
"Shut up," he said, but he couldn't help laughing.
"I need details. Wait, no, that's creepy. I need basic information to get me through dinner until you give in and give me all the details voluntarily. Like when, where, how, who made the first move... how many times, etc etc," she lowered her voice. Kurt turned vividly red.
Just then, his phone rang. Both he and Melrose looked at it simultaneously, and Melrose's face split into the most evil grin he had ever seen from her part, just as she lunged for it. Kurt reacted very slowly, and she snatched it up before he had a chance to fight her for it, and answered it.
"Hello?" she said in her best Kurt impersonation.
"Hey, love," Blaine's voice was somewhat audible from the speaker.
"Hi, Flipper," Melrose said idiotically, switching back to her own voice, pushing away at Kurt's prying hands, as Kurt basically tackled her flat on the bed.
"Melanie Rose Covey Comte, I'm going to kill you, give me that phone!"
There was a laugh coming from the phone, as well as from Melrose's shaking body. She eventually surrendered the mobile device, and just lay there for a minute, recovering her breath.
"That was worth it," she said, getting up. "I'll leave you two cetacean mammals, I mean, lovebirds, alone."
But as she turned to leave, she wrapped her friend in a tight embrace that squeezed some of the air out of his lungs. "I'm happy for you, Fluffy," she said excitedly and skipped out of the room, her long hair swaying behind her. She looked like a cartoon.
"What was that?" Blaine chuckled.
"She knows," Kurt said simply. Blaine made an 'oh' sound.
"Oh yeah? How did she?"
"I have no idea. She said I can't stop smiling," Kurt said, and it was true. He had a grin stretched out from ear to ear and he couldn't get rid of it. Blaine laughed.
"I can't stop smiling either," he said. "My face hurts, but I can't help it."
"Yeah."
"And... how's your dad now?"
Kurt chuckled. He had already told Blaine all about his parental encounter after breaking and entering his own room, and Blaine wondered how he was ever going to face Burt Hummel again. Obviously he wasn't angry or anything, but Kurt wondered if his father suddenly regretted ever having had the talk with his son about safe sex, especially considering that the prompt to do it had come from Blaine.
"He'll get over it," Kurt replied simply.
"I hope so. I'll see you in a while."
"I love you," Kurt said, and he thought he could almost hear Blaine sigh and smile.
"I love you too."
"So, you kids have plans for tonight?" But asked during dinner.
"Well, Rachel and I are going to the movies and then ice cream," Finn said through a mouthful of salad. "You can't watch 'Cowboys and Aliens' without going for Baskin Robins afterwards."
"Okay, good," Burt nodded, taking a bite of chicken. "How about you, Kurt? What are you and Blaine up to tonight?"
Carole nearly dropped her fork and put her hand over her mouth. Melrose pursed her lips.
Kurt ignored them and forced himself to look at his dad. "Actually, Melrose is taking us back to her place and we're having a 30 Rock marathon with Mercedes."
"And then we're going to a meth club," Melrose added. "And then we'll go dance under the moon, naked, and have an orgy with a bunch of people who think they're vampires."
Burt narrowed his eyes at her as she smirked.
"And then ice cream," she continued. "You can't have a vampiric orgy without going for Baskin Robins afterwards."
"Very amusing," Burt said sarcastically. "So you'll just stay in Melrose's apartment?" he asked, turning back to Kurt.
"Yep," Kurt replied.
"And you'll drive each of them home after you're done?" Burt asked Melrose.
"Yep," she said.
"And you promise me no alcohol?"
"For them? Yep."
"Melrose..." came the warning tone.
"I'm kidding, papa Burt," she answered with a shake of her head. "Wow, you seem to have grown a little uptight since last night around two in the morning..."
Carole squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw. Burt did not look the least entertained. Kurt wanted to throw his knife at Melrose's heart. Finn just looked confused, but continued to eat.
"Mercedes, you should've seen it. It was like a scene from a horror movie," Kurt was saying later that night. He, Blaine and Mercedes were lounging on Melrose's couch, while Melrose made chai tea and popcorn in the kitchen.
"I don't think I'd want to. If I were you, I would've jumped out the window," Mercedes replied, after regaining her breath from laughing for five minutes straight as the boys told her the whole story.
"And Blaine abandoned me at the mercy of my father."
Blaine's mouth fell open in indignation. "What was I supposed to do? Climb up and talk to him? Like that wouldn't have been suicidal."
"He did say to remind you about his shotgun."
"I knew it," Blaine said, pretending to be worried.
"That's so wrong!" Mercedes said, laughing.
"What's wrong?" Melrose came up from behind with a plate of cookies.
"My dad threatening my boyfriend with a shotgun," Kurt replied.
"Oh, he says that all the time," Melrose said. "It's like he's had that for years, but I've never actually seen it. He once threatened a guy I dated. Remember that nervous kid, the one in the book club, at Carmel... tall, really skinny, freckly?"
"Uh... Mason?" Kurt guessed.
"Madison. Johnny Madison," Melrose snapped her fingers.
"Oh, him!"
"Yeah. He brought up the shotgun then too."
"I had no idea."
"Wait, he saw you when you dropped Kurt off at the house?" Melrose's eyes went wide.
"No, I ran for it," Blaine turned red. "It was supposed to be a rather romantic end to the evening, but then we got kind of interrupted."
"It was horrible. My dad caught me sneaking into my room through the window. I had never been so embarrassed in my life," Kurt finished.
"I didn't even get to do Romeo's monologue, I had rehearsed it in my head and everything."
Kurt glared at his boyfriend indignantly. "You're worked up over that? My dad caught me sneaking back into the house! I had never been caught sneaking back into anywhere! I thought he would lock me up in a tower surrounded by a moat."
"Excellent, I practiced my 'Shrek' dialogue too, just in case," Blaine rubbed his hand in satisfaction.
"What? Stop," Kurt looked at Blaine as if he had lost it.
"I wish I had been there," Melrose chuckled.
"No, you wouldn't," Kurt shook his head.
"Just to see the look on his face..."
"I don't need to give my dad another stroke."
"He wasn't going to have a stroke. He already has said that he's got no problem with you having sex, just as long as he doesn't find out. Unfortunately he did."
"Wait. How did you know he said that?" Kurt scrutinized her.
"He told me. I think he trusts me to be your confidant, in case you don't feel all that comfortable talking to him about anything, as he says he knows you'd be. So maybe he hopes you'd open up to me. I'd rather you would not, by the way. No offense, but I don't really fancy giving advice to two attractive boys on how to screw each other. It's kind of depressing. Not to mention weird, because you're like my brother."
Ignoring the fact that Mercedes and Blaine were nearly choking on their cookies as they rolled around laughing, Kurt tried to not look so mortified.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask anyone anything ever."
"Come on, your dad is a pretty wise man when it comes to these things," Melrose said. "Come to think of it, while my parents didn't give a shit about me, it was papa Burt who gave me 'the talk', and a pretty good one at that. And that's probably the reason I didn't act out towards my parents, which would probably have landed me with chlamydia or a belly at fifteen."
"I have an idea! Let's completely change the subject!" Kurt said, clapping his hands with fake enthusiasm. "Let's talk about what Mercedes should sing at Sectionals. We need her to win this for us."
Mercedes shook her head adamantly. "Nuh-huh, come on, I wanna know now."
"Wanna know what?" Kurt asked fearfully, watching his friend's eyeing the boys mischievously.
"Who made the first move?"
Simultaneously, Kurt and Blaine's faces turned a deep shade of red.
"Mercedes! That is so wrong!" Melrose scolded her, but turned with a wicked smile toward the boys. "Start with 'where'."
"You..." Kurt's eyes narrowed menacingly toward the red-haired girl.
"Like, did you strip him off, or did he remove the leather pants all by himself?" Melrose was wiggling her eyebrows at Blaine, and the dark-haired boy looked like he wanted to hide behind the couch. Mercedes couldn't breathe anymore and only slapped her thigh repeatedly.
"I will murder you in your sleep," Kurt threatened in a low voice.
"Maybe you shouldn't have told us," Melrose said, smirking.
"I didn't tell you, you figured it out by yourself."
"You still told Mercedes."
"I thought I might as well. She used to be my best friend up until five seconds ago," he looked pointedly at the dark-skinned girl, who ignored him and continued to gasp for air. "The only reason I figured it would be okay to tell you was because I can't hide this kind of thing from either of you, but at least the secret would be safe. I didn't expect this level of immaturity."
"Don't worry, boys. Your secret is safe," Mercedes said, her laughter finally subsiding. "As long as it doesn't eventually get out that Blaine got shot with an imaginary shotgun or that you got locked up in a tower with a moat."
On monday morning, Kurt was standing at his locker, fetching some books, when Brittany came by and held up her hand as if expecting a high five.
"Oh, hey, Brit," Kurt said, smiling at her in confusion. While she continued to flash a silly smile at him, he finally gave her the high five and she swayed on the spot like a little girl brimming with excitement.
"I'm very happy for you, Kurt," she started, "but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't kind of jealous."
"Jealous? Of what?"
"Of you doing it with Blaine for the first time."
Kurt's eyes and mouth went wide, but Brittany grabbed his hands and rubbed them affectionately.
"I kind of wish it had been me," she said bashfully, "I always liked your baby-soft hands. I know you're not into girls, but I still would've rocked your world."
Speechless and stunted, Kurt just watched her as she flipped her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously and waved goodbye.
Blaine walked into Biology, smiling, and waved to Sam, Puck and Santana, at the very back. They were chatting quietly amongst themselves, and stopped promptly when they saw him.
Sam glanced up as Blaine sat next to him, and froze. His eyes widened and he leaned closer to Blaine, and continued to stare, until Blaine turned to meet his gaze.
"What?" he asked.
Sam seemed to be trying very hard not to grin.
"Good weekend, Blaine?" he asked, suppressing a laugh.
Eyeing him suspiciously, Blaine nodded slowly and smiled.
"Yeah, it was great. How about yours?"
"Probably not as good as yours," Sam was grinning like a Cheshire cat now. A big-lipped Cheshire cat.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Blaine asked, getting worried.
Sam looked mischievously at the others, who were shaking with quiet laughter.
"I'm only saying that it's obvious your weekend must have been pretty awesome, judging from that GINORMOUS HICKEY ON YOUR NECK."
He didn't exactly shout it, but he did say the last part loud enough. Blaine's hand flew automatically to his neck and felt the hickey there; Kurt's lips and teeth had done some serious damage, but Blaine hadn't noticed until now. Horrified, he lay his hand flat against the skin.
"Shit," he cursed lowly.
"Oh, yeah, sure, try to cover it now. Where are all the scarves you always wear?" Puck said, trying to sound serious when indeed he found the other boy's flustered face hilarious.
"Shut up, Noah," Blaine hissed through gritted teeth.
"I think this calls for a bro fist bump, man," Puck added, making a fist and showing it to Blaine, who just stared at him as if he were crazy. "Hey man, I'm just happy for you."
"Leave me alone. I don't even know how that happened," Blaine's voice was muffled by his hands, which he was now running repeatedly over his face.
"Do you want me to explain it to you?" Puck asked with an evil grin.
"Noah, seriously, shut up," he said, starting to get angry. "Thanks, Sam," he added sarcastically, punching Sam in the shoulder. Sam winced but continued to laugh.
"Anytime," he said in between gasps for air, holding his stomach.
"Shouldn't you be thanking Adam Lambert too?" Santana teased, cocking an eyebrow in Blaine's direction. Blaine glared daggers at her, before grabbing his things and heading hurriedly out the door.
"Dude, we were just joking," Puck called after him.
"Hey!" Santana shouted.
"Mr. Anderson, where do you think you're going?" asked Professor Hansen, the biology teacher, who walked in at that moment. Blaine only side-stepped him and sprinted out of the classroom.
He ran down the near-empty hallway toward his locker. His hands were shaking a little as he dialed his combination and popped the door open. A quick rummage through revealed a dark red scarf folded neatly with a coat and pair of gloves. He wrapped it around his neck quickly, and sighed in relief.
"Are you okay?"
He jumped at the sound of Santana's voice. He turned to see her standing there, looking concerned.
"How did you guys find out?" he asked. Santana didn't reply right away. She just shook her head.
"Blaine, we're sorry, okay? We were just teasing," she sounded genuinely worried.
"Forget it, you wouldn't understand," he said, slamming the door of his locker.
"Wouldn't understand what?"
Blaine sighed, shoulders slumping. "Did Kurt tell you about the time I got beat up? For being gay?"
There were about five seconds of silence, and Blaine turned his head to see if she was still even there.
"No," she said in a very low voice, avoiding his eyes.
"It was a Sadie Hawkins dance at my old high school, and I went with one of my best friends, and we had both just come out of the closet." Blaine shrugged. "You fill in the blanks."
Santana stared at him, looking both sympathetic and a little frightened.
"Needless to say, I transferred to Dalton after that," he added.
"I'm sorry," came the quiet reply.
"I know it seems like I'm okay with being out and proud here, but most of the time I'm pretty scared," he said quietly. "But I put on a brave face for Kurt. For myself. Because I really hope one day I won't have to deal with this kind of crap anymore. But for now, I'd like to be a little careful."
Santana looked down.
"I'm really sorry. I'll talk to the guys. Come back to class, you don't want to get in trouble."
"I've gotta go find Melrose, maybe she can help me with some foundation or pressed powders or something. I can't walk around all day wearing this scarf, it's too stuffy in here."
Santana watched him go, looking downcast and forlorn. She bit her lip worriedly and headed back to Biology slowly.
"Melrose? Did you tell someone?"
Melrose looked up from the computer screen in Miss Moreau's office, to see a red-faced Kurt eyeing her worriedly. She logged off Twitter and turned her full attention to the boy.
"Tell who what?" she asked.
"Anyone. About me and Blaine."
Melrose's eyes went wide in horror. "NO!" she shook her head vigoriously, voice high. "No! I would never... You know that. I made a promise, you know I would never break that kind of promise to you."
"I believe you," Kurt said, nodding in resignation.
"Good, because you know I love you, and I would never do that to you," she continued adamantly.
"Melrose, calm down. I didn't really think it was you, I just had to make sure."
"Okay," Melrose said breathily, like she had just run a mile. "Wait, someone else knows?"
"Mercedes says it wasn't her either," he fell into the chair opposite her. Melrose shrugged.
"Who else lives in your house?"
Kurt sat up. "Finn? I don't think he knows."
"Would you bet on that?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "Who knows what evil gossip mastermind lurks behind that blank stare he always has."
"I'm not sure," he said uncertainly.
"Didn't you say that he once accused you of cheating on Blaine with Sam Evans?"
He looked up at her dubiously. She shrugged again.
"I'm just saying. Because boys are bigger gossips than girls. No offense, but it's true in most cases."
Just then, there was a light knock on the door and Blaine walked in. "Hi."
"Hey, we were just talking about you," Melrose said. "Well, kind of."
"Really?" he asked unconcerned.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, noticing the nervous look on his boyfriend's face. Blaine made sure that the door had swung shut completely before sitting next to Kurt on the other chair.
"Did you know that you had given me a hickey?"
It was Kurt's turn to panic, his eyes growing the size of dinner plates. "What? NO!"
"I didn't notice it either," Blaine replied, taking off the scarf. He turned to Melrose. "Would you happen to have something to cover it up with?"
"Whoa, that's big. How did we not notice it?" Melrose said, eyebrows raised as she examined Blaine's neck. She reached for her bag and started digging for her makeup kit.
"Santana, Puck and Sam did. And apparently they know."
"Them too?" Kurt asked shrilly.
"Who else knows?" Blaine asked.
"Brittany."
"Then everyone knows."
"I'm gonna kill Finn," Kurt hissed.
"Didn't you just say that you didn't think he'd do that kind of thing?" Melrose asked.
"Well, I'll ask him, and then I'm gonna kill him," Kurt said angrily.
"Okay, I know this is not comforting at all, but you're like five shades darker than I am, so I'm not sure this foundation is going to do much good," Melrose said, laying everything in her makeup case onto the desk. "Fear not, though, I used to work in theater, I know my way around makeup. I think I can do something about this. And maybe if people squint at you all day it will go unnoticed, that's the least we can hope for."
"Whatever. It's like high school students have a freaking radar for this kind of thing," Kurt said bitterly.
"No argument there," Melrose agreed, as she started dabbing at Blaine's neck with a concealer stick.
It was not until Glee club that Kurt was able to confront Finn. The jock had been rather elusive all day, especially since the only class he and Kurt shared was French, which they didn't have until the next day. When the bell rang for last period, Blaine was trying to keep Kurt from storming into the choir room and bludgeoning his brother with a sheet music stand.
Trying to stay collected, Kurt actually walked into the room very calmly, followed by Blaine and Melrose. The latter jumped onto her usual spot on the piano and leaned forward for a better view. Kurt didn't really want to make a scene or anything, especially considering that all of New Directions was already there.
Finn was sitting on the front row, with Rachel leaning against his shoulder and holding onto his arm.
"Finn, do you know something?" Kurt asked quietly, standing squarely in front of the other boy. Rachel lifted her head and looked a little surprised. Most of the other Glee members stopped talking and listened.
"Oh, god, it's true, isn't it?" Finn said, looking put-off. Blaine and Kurt both blushed deeply.
"How did you know?" Kurt demanded.
"Your dad was talking to me about-"
"Finn, my dad couldn't have told you! He'd never do that." Kurt's voice rose slightly.
"He didn't tell me. But he sat me down and gave me the sex talk on saturday, after you left," Finn explained nervously, almost in a whisper. "Considering he decided to do this the day after you didn't show up all night because you were with Blaine, I figured it must have had something to do with it."
"And now you decide to become the most perceptive and clever person in existence?"
Finn blinked in surprise. "Am I?"
"That was sarcasm," Kurt spat angrily.
"Oh."
"Everybody knows, Finn. That's not fair," Kurt hissed. "Everybody was not supposed to know. This is between me and Blaine."
Finn held his hands up defensively. "No, everybody doesn't know. I'm pretty sure, I mean, I don't think anyone outside this room knows. And, I didn't say that you guys had sex. I said 'I think so', I never said I knew for a fact."
"Oh, because if there's anything we've learned about this school is that students won't believe anything unless it comes from a reliable source with facts," Kurt countered angrily. Blaine placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.
Finn had this kicked-puppy expression, but it did nothing to deter Kurt. "I'm really sorry. I only told Rachel at first."
Kurt's smoldering gaze was now placed on the tiny girl.
"I didn't tell anyone!" Rachel defended herself, turning red. "I just... didn't deny it when Santana asked me about it."
Kurt was fuming. "And how did Santana find out?"
"I know everything," Santana replied with a shrug. "But this time, Puck told me."
"Thanks for throwing me in the frying pan," Puck glared at her.
"Finn told us all," Sam pointed an accusing finger at the quarterback.
"Thanks, Sam," Finn said through gritted teeth.
Kurt was looking down at him, hurt and on the verge of tears.
"I don't believe you. You're my brother," he muttered.
Finn shook his head, like he was sorry but not all that sorry. He was still trying to defend himself.
"Look, everybody knew I lost the big V to Santana, even you, and the only one that got upset about it was Rachel."
"And I had every right to," Rachel said, crossing her arms.
"You don't... okay, whatever, The point is," Finn took a deep breath, "it's not that big a deal, is it? So you had sex with your boyfriend. Great. You guys have been together for longer than most couples in high school last."
The Glee kids looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They didn't exactly have the best record.
Finn continued. "I think the reason this is such big news is because, apparently, for the first time in this Glee club, except maybe Mike and Tina," he cocked his head in the direction of the Asian couple, who smiled sheepishly in gratitude, "a couple had sex, not to cheat, not for revenge, not to obtain something, or just for the sake of getting rid of their virginity. Just because they love each other."
Most of the kids nodded again. It was sad but true, and they knew it. Mercedes smiled in spite of it, and Brittany made an 'aww' sound.
Kurt's expression, however, had not softened one bit. Blaine looked down at the floor, and Melrose sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.
"Thank you, Finn, for that lovely breakdown of the twisted telenovela that is New Directions," Kurt started, his voice eerily calm. "But you guys don't get it. These things have a way of getting out. You may think that you just gossiped amongst yourselves, but by the end of the week the whole school might know."
He looked back down at his brother, but he was addressing them all anyway. "We're gay, Finn, and if you don't quite remember, this school is not all that fond of gays. I thought you'd know that by now, considering that was the very reason why I left the first time. And the same reason why I'm the reigning prom queen."
His voice cracked slightly. "Thank you for putting us back in the spotlight," he said sarcastically.
"Is everything all right?" Will asked, walking in at that instant. He looked at Melrose, who bit her lip.
"Are you boys okay?" he added, approaching Blaine and Kurt, who were still looking down at Finn.
"You know, I'm not really in the mood for singing," Kurt said softly. "If you don't mind, Mr. Schue, I'd like to go home. I feel suddenly sick."
"Me too," Blaine said, looking suddenly pale.
The boys waved goodbye to Melrose and Mercedes, and walked out of the room.
No one said a word. Finn looked stunned and ashamed. Melrose threw a notebook of sheet music at him. The tall boy winced and looked at her in surprise.
"Not cool, grand oiseau," she said, glaring at him.
I'm sorry if that was too long. Because it obviously is. But oh well.
Next chapter coming really soon (unless something awful happens and I'm horribly delayed again, as always).
Love, Valentina.