Epilogue, Part 1: Just Like Me, They Long to Be . . .
July 2011
There was a hot boy wandering about the mall right now – he was decked out in a red, white and black cheerleading uniform, and it was mouth-watering in its sexiness – and he was Blaine's boyfriend. Blaine had been following closely behind Kurt and his hoard of Cheerios, eager and probably puppy-like in his enthusiasm, but in this Blaine had absolutely no shame – his boyfriend was in a cheerleading uniform and he was going to perform in said uniform. He was allowed to be a little (a lot) fanboy about this.
Of course, right now he was in a corner between two stores, leaning against the wall of a hallway that lead towards the bathrooms, next to Dave Karofsky, Kurt's (former) chief tormentor, and a closet-case.
The last four months of his life had been positively insane, frustrating, heartbreaking, strange and mind-blowing in their ups and downs, and it seemed his summer was following this trend, only cranked up to eleven.
It was watching Kurt leave him – leave Dalton, the safe walls of Dalton – to go back to a school that would end up crowning him Prom Queen as part of a hideous prank, and a dinner at the Hudson-Hummels with his family after that horrific incident, which almost ended in Burt and his own father punching each other out when his dad had (unthinkingly) laid the blame on Kurt. On the brighter side of things, there had also been kisses that had been steadily escalating in passion, and being able to see Kurt topless twice, (and yesterday he'd been allowed to touch . . . to put on sunscreen while they were at Quinn's for a pool-party but still, the resulting make-out session had been spectacularly hot).
His job at Six Flags was great, but thoroughly exhausting, and only a couple of weeks ago he had had one seriously messy fight with Kurt over what, he can't even remember, only that they didn't talk or see each other for about four days and it had been agony. Then they'd bumped into one of Blaine's old bullies – one of the one's responsible for his brief stay in a Westerville hospital after the Sadie Hawkins's Dance at his old school, and needless to say, that had been crazy.
Now Kurt was here, at the mall, because his former cheerleading coach was quite possibly the devil, but maybe not, because her blackmailing Kurt into doing this Cheerio's appearance for the local news (an attempt to regain her previous glory and put her Cheerios back on the scene) meant Kurt in a cheerleading uniform.
And here Blaine was, with Karofsky.
He'd seen the bully in the crowd while the Cheerios had been setting up – he'd watched him for a few minutes, but quickly lost sight of him in the rush of shoppers and shrugged it off as happenstance. However, when he saw him again as they were doing sound checks, and when there was no mistaking the way Karofsky's eyes were lingering on Kurt, he had to do something. Telling Kurt wasn't an option – he was locked up in a whirlwind of red skirts, and Sue Sylvester was drilling them all mercilessly, bordering on inhumane and illegal, really – so Blaine took it upon himself to talk to the jock.
He knew the last time they'd encountered each other it had been less than good. But, considering what Kurt told him about his tearful apology, the fact that Karofsky seemed more afraid now, rather than inciting fear in others, talking to the (hopefully repentant) bully in the crowded mall seemed to be a relatively safe idea.
He'd caught up to Karofsky as he was about to disappear into the bathrooms.
"Hey . . . Dave!" He had no plan whatsoever, and he realized this might blow up in his face only just as Karofsky turned to face him, looking surprised, then uncomfortable, then blank. He took a few hesitant steps towards Blaine and they met in the middle of the hallway.
"You're . . ." The other teen shuffled a bit on his feet, glancing about them – there wasn't anyone in the vicinity, since most people were heading towards the performance area, and they were hidden from view from the rest – which sort of shot Blaine's confront-him-in-a-crowd idea, but this boy in front of him didn't seem quite as threatening as he once did. "You're Kurt's . . . boyfriend."
Blaine nodded, swallowing hard and doing his best to keep up a neutral, if not vaguely friendly expression. "I am."
Karofsky nodded back, his jaw clenching as he scrutinized him – Blaine didn't shift nervously as those intense eyes rested on his, but it was a near thing. Eventually, Karofsky sagged back against the wall, his gaze dropping to the floor. He crossed his arms and spoke in a small, weary voice. "What do you want?"
Blaine inhaled slowly, breathing out his question, "What are you doing here?"
Karofsky shrugged. "It's a mall – I was coming to pick up a new pair of running shoes. Maybe some shorts. You're here for . . . Kurt."
"Yes," Blaine said, moving forward and leaning again the wall next to Karofsky. Nothing was said for a time, and this was the moment Blaine was using to reflect on the insanity of the past few months of his life. Blaine didn't do head-on confrontations – or at least, he hadn't, until a high, breathy voice had inquired, "Excuse me, hi, can I ask you a question?" After that, and after less than a week of knowing Kurt, he was ready to speak to his bully for him, face to face, and get shoved up against a chain link fence, risking getting hit.
He felt a pang at his own obliviousness – how could he have thought what he felt for Kurt was pure friendship, when after such a short time, Kurt was already so deep under his skin that he'd been willing, without hesitation, to put himself in a situation similar to the one that ended up with him in a hospital. He shook his head, trying to banish that thought – he had Kurt now, and he was working to deserve him, to make up for months of being a blind idiot.
He shot Karofsky a side-glance. "You're here for Kurt, too." He held his breath, waiting, unable to stop his shoulders from hunching in.
The huge boy shook his head in instant denial, but what came out of his mouth was, "I don't know why the fuck I'm here, actually – but yeah, sure, why not? I'm here to check out your boyfriend."
Blaine blinked, mouth parting – he had not been expecting such a ready confession. Kurt had been right, Karofsky had been making progress. A little flicker of protectiveness flared in Blaine's chest; he bit back the urge to reiterate yes, my boyfriend, as in not yours, because he should say something, but not something that might end in another shoving contest. There was no Santana nearby, and he wasn't entirely sure that Karofsky wouldn't just punch him out – not out of fear, but out of jealously.
"Have you given any more thought to coming out?" Blaine asked carefully.
Karofsky wheeled around to stare him incredulously. "Man, I just said that I'm here to creep on your boyfriend. What the hell?"
"And that does make me feel a little . . ." Like hitting you. "Uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure you're not going to do anything to him." Or I will hit you, repeatedly, until you overpower and possibly kill me. Blaine knew his thoughts were completely irrational, and he tried to push them away.
Karofsky gave a grimace that may or may not have been his attempt at a smile, "Yeah, that's right – not gonna try a damn thing, because that would be like coming out and I'm not, I can't." He whispered the last part of that statement, and sagged even further, slouching down – he was closer to Blaine's height now (maybe closer to Kurt's would be more accurate), and Blaine (while feeling a little like he was completely up shit-creek without a paddle, because if there was anything he learned these past few months, it was that, on occasion, his advice/mentoring skills? Sucked.) was proud of himself for not flinching away.
"Tell me something about yourself that has nothing to do with being gay, or Kurt or . . . the stuff you used to do to him," Blaine said with some effort.
Karofsky shot him another look of 'seriously, dude, what the hell?' but he seemed to be actually considering what Blaine was telling him. When he next spoke, it was Blaine who felt his eyebrows rising in surprise.
"I like the crooners. You know, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin? My mom listens to them a lot – a lot of stuff from the Big Band era, even though she wasn't around then. I knew who the Rat Pack was before I knew anything else about music, really. I used to sing along with her, when she was doing dishes and laundry and stuff. She and my dad, they used to say I sound a lot like Frank Sinatra did in his younger recordings."
Blaine blinked. "Wow, that's . . ."
"You kinda look like you'd belong there," Karofsky continued, seemingly on a roll. "With the way you do your hair and stuff. I like a lot of the movies from then. Marlon Brando – that's who you remind me of sometimes."
That was pretty cool, actually. Blaine felt his lips tug up in an involuntary smile, which was quickly schooled back to a neutral expression, because this guy, pathetic and seemingly unthreatening as he was at the moment, used to shove and slushie Kurt, and had kissed him against his will. "So, there's more to you than football and shoving around people smaller and weaker than yourself."
Karofsky snorted wetly, a hand coming up discretely to wipe his face. "If there's anything Hummel isn't, it's weak. That guy is stronger than me. He takes crap like no one else, and fuck if he ever let it get to him, until I started . . . I know it's different, what I was doing. And I'm not proud of myself for it, okay? But I can't . . . I like Sinatra, and even dancing, and yeah, there's a few Broadway shows I dig, but that's like painting a target on your back, dude, in this town. And if I came out, for the rest of my life I'll have that bull's-eye on me. And I don't need that shit. I know how fucking miserable and messed-up people can be about this, because of how I treated Kurt."
Blaine hated how much he was sympathizing with this guy right now. He wanted to go back to intensely disliking him for everything he did to Kurt and everything he'd probably thought about doing to Kurt, but Dave Karofsky was sad and damaged, and horrible as it was, he was at least a little bit right about having a permanent target – a mark that separated you from the rest, singled you out for extra obstacles and pain in your life.
"You know what, Dave? You're not wrong – I've had crap done and said to me that's left scars – in some cases literally – because of who I am, and because I'm not willing to hide it. But . . ." Blaine floundered for words, because he felt what he wanted to say, but couldn't find the right way to actually say it. "But being constantly afraid and watching your words and actions, it's no way to live. The people who really care about you won't care about this. And it's going to hurt when you find out which ones those are. There may not be many. There may be only one. But once you're out there, it's . . . it's light as air, I promise. And the other crap – trust me when I tell you that you can deal with it. You're not the first one to go through this, and unless we wake up tomorrow in a free and just world, you won't be the last."
Karofsky listened, though how much he absorbed, Blaine didn't and couldn't know. But it seemed that some of it at least, got through to him because he wasn't quite so slumped over when he said, "I don't get what's in it for you, Anderson, to be saying this stuff to me, but . . . thanks."
Blaine did feel rather vindicated by that admission, and he decided to push his luck. "I don't suppose that in gratitude you could, maybe . . . stop creeping on my boyfriend."
Karofsky jumped a bit at that, and actually laughed for a moment before cutting himself off and staring at Blaine in surprise. "Man, I, I can't . . . I don't know, Anderson. Kurt, he's, uh . . ." He waved his hands helplessly. "I'm not . . . fuck, I don't know, don't want to say any of this shit out loud, but I'm not, I can't do anything, take him from you. Like, really, do you think he would even want to if I tried?"
Blaine knew that, logically, Karofsky was right. Kurt might try and help him if approached by the Dave that stood before Blaine now, but he couldn't imagine him being tempted to date the boy. But on the other hand, Dave was sort of good-looking when not menacing or trying to blend in with his homophobic jock buddies, and he dug Frank Sinatra and he was a total fix-it project, something Kurt would just dive headfirst into. His rational mind reared up and brought that thought process to a screaming halt, his own voice blaring in his head: Blaine Warbler, shut up, this is so stupid. And dangerous. Mostly stupid.
"No," he said firmly, both for his sake and Karofsky's. "But think of it as, I don't know, a favour to me for not telling him about you sort of stalking him, and thus getting him to take out a restraining order. Make no mistake, Dave, I'm not here to drag you out of the closet, but if you keep following my boyfriend around, I will make sure he gets that restraining order."
He had no idea how he'd gone from mentoring to threatening in less than a minute, but Dave's inability to admit defeat when it came to Kurt, despite admitting to not being able to actively do anything about it – it made him itch to do something to get him to put some distance between he and Kurt. Blaine had no clue where it was all coming from, but there it was.
Karofsky hunched in, becoming sullen and withdraw in a second, and the bully was back, glaring at Blaine with narrowed eyes and that slightly scary vibe coming off him, but Blaine held his ground, glaring right back up at him.
"You're fucking insane, Anderson – I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, I'm not going to fuck up my life here for something I know I can't ever have. So shut up and get lost – I'm not promising you anything if you're too stupid to figure out that it would mean nothing. Nothing's going to change until we wake up in that dream world you were taking about. Go, make out with Kurt and get your gay-freak-on somewhere I can't see it."
He pushed past Blaine then, and it wasn't until he was gone – lost in the crowd – that Blaine exhaled the breath he'd been holding all throughout that mini-speech. He'd heard the undisguised self-loathing and want in Dave's words. It scared him, for Kurt, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he'd just made things all the worse, as he was wont to do. But there was nothing he could do, for now, and really, Karofsky seemed to be doing a fine job of talking himself down from doing anything too alarming.
He glanced at his watch, realizing it was almost show time. He headed towards the performance area as fast as he could, heart already hammering, because his boyfriend was in a cheerleading uniform. His boyfriend was (temporarily) a cheerleader. Blaine had seen the YouTube videos of previous Cheerio performances. With the exception of the Nationals video, which had been clearly ripped from ESPN, they had been grainy and poor, cell-phone quality type recordings, but that hadn't stopped him from spotting Kurt amongst the red-clothed multitude, and hitting replay over and over. He must've raised the view count on '4 Minutes at McKinley' by ten thousand at least.
Blaine shook off the encounter with Dave Karofsky – not easily, because that desperate tone in his voice when he spoke of Kurt, of the fact that he could never have what Blaine had with him, had him confused and not entirely sure of how he felt about it. It sparked something dark and uneasy in him, to think of that boy gazing and wanting Kurt from afar. He tried to put it out of his mind as he made his way through the crowds at the mall, seeing Kurt's long leg kick high in the air before he saw Kurt himself, hair immaculate, swept up and away. The leg came down from its impossibly high position in the air, and Kurt hopped on the spot a little before swinging his other long leg up over his head. Blaine swallowed drily, but soon after he was grinning as Kurt caught his eye and waved. His boyfriend glanced around himself surreptitiously before blowing him a kiss and winking.
Blaine's heart skipped a beat, and he was so wrapped up in everything that was Kurt, he missed the looming, frightening form of Sue Sylvester appearing in the midst of the milling Cheerios, blaring into her megaphone. "Cheerios, form ranks! Those of you not of my prized cheerleaders, back away before you find out what it's like to have a size eleven foot buried in your abdomen."
The entire crowd (which had grown remarkably in size without Blaine noticing) backed up three steps almost in perfect unison, quieting as Sue glared at them all, and Blaine had no doubt she would have followed through on her threat (he saw her punch out the Lieutenant Governor's wife at Regionals, after all). Kurt had disappeared and Blaine took in the crowd on the floor and up on the balconies – they'd even stopped the escalators so people could huddle on them. There was more than one new's crew camera, and every other person was holding up a cell phone or Blackberry. Blaine saw Dave Karofsky amongst those on the upper floor, his face betraying only detached interest. Blaine's spine stiffened but he focused on the sea of red and white uniforms as the blare of JXL's mix of A Little Less Conversation came on over the massive speakers.
Apparently this was an older routine (one, unfortunately, not posted on YouTube); the story behind it was one Kurt told with lots of eye rolls and exasperation – a trip to the girls' locker room, collaboration with Santana. Blaine forgot it all as his boyfriend's voice rang out, low and dirty and perfect, the Cheerios performing flips and tosses that defied all laws – but what did gravity mean to Sue Sylvester?
Kurt swerved, slid and spun amongst the organized chaos, and mid-way Santana slunk over to his side, pressing in close and singing a few lines with him. "A little more bite and a little less bark/A little less fight and a little more spark/Close your mouth and open your heart and baby, satisfy me/Satisfy me baby."
Blaine found his mouth totally dry, and a monstrous grin took over his face. Pride buoyed him as he knew that this, amongst this sort of insanity, was where Kurt belonged. He'd always known it, but right there in front of him was irrefutable proof. The crowd was cheering itself hoarse as the music built up and Kurt lifted Santana, seemingly effortlessly, onto her position at the top of the pyramid, singing all the while. The Cheerios picked up the last chorus with him, a few death-defying leaps bringing it all to a frightening conclusion – including Santana flinging herself down from the very top in a complicated twist and down precisely into Kurt's arms.
The screams and applause actually overwhelmed Coach Sylvester's megaphone (he could see her mouth form the word 'mediocre'), and Blaine saw a rare sight indeed: Santana's smirking softened into a smile as Kurt swung her around in triumph, pressing a kiss to her cheek. It was fleeting – soon her smug expression was back and she was disappearing amongst the chattering, waving, excited Cheerios. Kurt found Blaine in the crowd again, and he raised his eyebrow in question.
Blaine had not stopped clapping since the first incredible set of lifts, and his face hurt from smiling so relentlessly. He gave Kurt two thumbs up and a mouthed, Wow. Kurt flushed happily and was swallowed all too soon by his fellow Cheerios. Sue was entertaining three interviewers at once and the crowd finally stopped cheering after another couple of minutes. Many drifted away, chatting and probably posting their videos online as they went. Many more were hanging around, mostly boys, probably hoping to chat-up one of the Cheerios – Santana in particular, he would imagine.
He glanced up to see a distinct lack of McKinley bully hovering around the balcony, or in any of the crowd around him, and felt something in him loosen and unwind.
"Blaine!"
He turned to see a hoard of New Directions coming at him, Finn in the lead. He grinned up at Kurt's stepbrother as he arrived at his side, a big hand coming down to clap on his shoulder as the tall boy asked excitedly, "That was so awesome, wasn't it?"
Finn was bursting with energy and pride, and Blaine nodded quickly, glad to have someone else in on his Kurt Hummel Appreciation. "He was awesome! I know that Coach Sylvester is crazy beyond crazy, but you guys should totally convince him to get back on the squad next year."
Mercedes appeared on Blaine's other side, also smiling widely, proud of her friend, but she shook her head at Blaine's suggestion. "I don't know – she's also dead-set on sabotaging Glee club, which is part of the reason why Kurt didn't rejoin this past year. And she has some weird rule about wearing your uniform like, all the damn time. Which, as I'm sure you know, is not really a way to get Kurt on your side."
Blaine shrugged, and then shot Mercedes a sly, sideways look. "I don't know, I think Kurt is pretty fond of the Dalton blazer."
She nudged him hard, but her grin soon matched his. "I think that has more to do with the boy that's in it. And quit acting all smug – as if that uniform isn't your new favourite thing in his closet?"
Blaine didn't deny it. Rachel was bouncing a bit, complaining about how much more attention Cheerios got than their own performances, when she abruptly stopped mid-rant, staring behind Blaine, her face splitting into a wide smile. She grabbed Mercedes' arm, and pointed – Mercedes turned to look and promptly burst out laughing. Naturally, Blaine and everyone else had to see what they were staring at.
A group of girls, pre-teens it looked liked, stood huddled together, flushed and excited, and one of them was clutching a bristol board with ridiculous bright and glittery lettering proclaiming THREE CHEERS FOR KURT! Blaine couldn't help but gape, as did many others.
"My boy Kurt has a fan club?" Puck scratched at his head, looking as flabbergasted as Blaine could imagine the mohawked boy could look. He turned to his girlfriend and Lauren just shrugged.
"I like men with voices lower than Mickey Mouse and a little more dirt and grit goin' on in general – but Kurt does have his own hotness factor, I guess, if he wasn't so clearly, flaming gay."
Mercedes explained what was going on between bouts of laughter. "We bumped into two of these girls a couple of months ago – they were practically drooling all over him, not that he noticed, of course. He is so, so oblivious when it comes to girls, like most guys, though I guess he has a good excuse. Anyways, it was freakin' hilarious."
Rachel preened. "They thought I was his 'hot girlfriend', which was both flattering and amusing. Although, you know, if Kurt weren't gay, he and I do have a lot in common – which is probably what makes us clash so often, but as Lauren said, he does have his own unique appeal –"
"Uh, Rachel, please stop," Finn cut her off, gazing at her pleadingly. Blaine silently added his own support to Finn's. He knew, realistically, that neither Rachel nor those little girls (Kurt's fan club) posed a real threat to his boyfriend, but for some reason, it had his hackles rising.
All of that disappeared as Kurt bounded over, a little sweaty but hardly a hair or crease out of place. It was an enviable ability, one that Blaine at times resented because the sight of a messy, dishevelled Kurt was rare and incredibly hot, but this, this was Cheerio Kurt and therefore the hotness was achieved regardless.
Blaine grabbed a waving hand as Kurt thanked his friends profusely for coming, ranting about practise and staging. "And you have no idea – Coach Sylvester made us sign releases and I'm not entirely sure I didn't promise her my first born child or something. For all I know I'm her indentured servant for the next decade, but it was worth it! I've been up since dawn rehearsing this routine, and we were only allowed one five-minute food-and-water break that was really more like a three minute Red Bull break because she set the timer to run faster than normal, and she refused water until we were through – but I forgot that for all her mental instability and total disregard for basic human rights, the woman knows her showmanship because damn that was amazing." Blaine was fairly sure Kurt hadn't taken more than half a breath through that tirade. Red Bulls indeed.
"I saw you getting interviewed by a reporter!" Tina separated herself from Mike long enough to hug Kurt and congratulate him up close. "Are you going to be on the news later today? Which network – I so want to record it."
Kurt's eyes were so bright and sparkling, and Blaine fell a little bit harder at the sight. "I have no idea – I'm running on like, five energy drinks and I could probably do that whole routine another five times, but don't ask me to tell you what day it is, or who's President. Hm, I wonder if she laced those Red Bulls with something – it so wouldn't surprise me."
"And speaking of surprises." Mercedes nudged her best friend, putting an arm around his shoulders and facing him towards his giggling group of admirers. "Look who turned up to cheer you on."
Kurt squinted and then his eyes widened comically, much to everyone's amusement, "I don't even know what . . . Is there a recommended protocol for situations like this?" He floundered a little, looking at all his friends in confusion, while also avoiding eye contact. Blaine found this deeply funny.
"You should sign their poster," Rachel said knowingly. "It will be good practise for when you're my co-star in our big Broadway break-out hit that will rocket us into national, if not international, stardom."
There were several eye rolls at this, but many nods and grins and pokes directed at his boyfriend, prompting him to do just that. Mercedes handed him a bright, sparkling pen. "Take it boy, make all their dreams come true."
"You've gotta do it man," Puck added. "Like, for dudes everywhere. Doesn't matter that you're a fairy – you've got roadies. Sign one of their boobs."
Lauren hauled back and smacked Puck on the back of his head. "They're pre-teens, you perv – half of them haven't even gotten their first training bra yet."
"You're all insane – I realize this isn't news, but I feel the need to reiterate. Blaine, honey, please – some sense, coming from you, would be most appreciated."
Blaine hated to disappoint Kurt, he truly did – but this just could not be missed. His brief discomfort with the idea had well and truly evaporated in the face of all the teasing his boyfriend was getting. He tilted his head at Kurt and put an arm around his shoulders once Mercedes stepped back. "I think you would totally and completely make their day if you went over there and thanked them for coming down to support you," Blaine said solemnly, pushing Kurt over to the girls.
"Oh God, you too?" Kurt moaned. "This is ridiculous. I don't even understand – they know I'm gay. I explained it to them . . . Blaine –"
"C'mon, Kurt, you know it will make them ridiculously happy. Consider it a good deed." Blaine leaned in close to say this into his boyfriend's ear. Kurt turned, their noses brushing as he did so, his eyes narrowing. It was distracting, in the best way possible.
"You know what they say about those, right? Something to do with how they never go unpunished." It was meant to be threatening, Blaine was sure. But he couldn't help but to smirk and waggle his eyebrows. Kurt groaned and allowed himself to be manhandled. "Fine, fine. God, let's get this over with."
The rest of New Directions followed, though hanging back at a respectable distance to watch it unfold without direct interference. Blaine remained close, wanting to see this firsthand. The grin on his face was one of his more silly ones, he knew, but he found it rather cool to be the boyfriend of a local . . . rock star? Hottie? He had to swallow down what may have been distinctly unmanly giggles as one of the girls spotted Kurt on the approach and went absolutely white, freezing to the spot, staring with an open mouth. She managed to come to life and gesture frantically at the rest of the group, who had similar reactions.
Just when Blaine thought his day couldn't get any better – he figured seeing Kurt perform in his cheerleading uniform (and he would be forever emphasizing that in his own mind – it would forever deserve emphasis) would be the best thing to happen in this twenty-four hour period. But this was shaping up to be fairly awesome – perhaps even on par.
Kurt huffed out a breath as the girls seemed to huddle in on themselves, all slack-jawed and awed when he came to a stop in front of them.
"Hello," he began, and there was more than one sigh as he spoke. Blaine was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, and he could feel Kurt shoot him a glare – he looked off to the side, down at the floor, trying for casual and failing miserably.
"I wanted to say that it's very, very kind of you to come out here to see me perform," Kurt said rather formally and stiffly. "And that poster has some excellent glitter work – and believe me when I say that I know my glitter and crafting skills." There were several giggles and a lot of blushing.
"Hi Kurt!" came the breathless voice of a young girl that seemingly burst onto the scene. She was pretty, with dark skin, curly hair, and a cute smile, braces and all.
"Oh, hi Grace." Kurt's formality eased up a bit, and his own smile became more genuine. Another sigh came from Blaine's right. He was practically chewing on his cheek by this point to keep from cracking up.
"It was so amazing, watching you do that!" Grace gushed, and Blaine saw her eyes flick once or twice towards him, curious and a little . . . oh. Blaine was not unfamiliar with girls checking him out. This was better than girls his own age, at any rate. It was more cute than anything else.
"How come you did it, though?" Grace asked. "I thought you weren't a Cheerio anymore?"
"Oh, well, Sue Sylvester drives a hard bargain. And by that I mean, it was this or death."
There was some blinking at this, and soon another girl was on the scene, next to Grace and also breathless. "It's me, Kurt!"
"Yes, hi Tanya." Kurt sounded very amused. "So, how have you two spent your summer so far?"
Kurt chatted with the two girls, whilst the rest of the group looked on, paying rapt attention, and some appearing to be more than a little jealous. Blaine was content at his boyfriend's side, feeling so, so grateful that he could be here to see this – to see Kurt get lavished with attention he rightfully deserved.
Grace brought him into the conversation soon enough, sizing him up and looking back towards Kurt, impishly asking. "So, Kurt, is this your boyfriend?"
A dozen pair of eyes zoomed in on him. Not only could he see it, he could feel it. It was a little disconcerting. He smiled at everyone and clutched Kurt's hand. "Yeah, that's me."
The happy squeals weren't deafening, but they were loud enough to have both he and Kurt flinching. Blaine had no clue what to make of this, but the way these little pre-teens were hungrily eying up him and Kurt. He felt like he was on display in such a completely different way than performing on stage had ever felt. Was that a camera or three aimed at him? Kurt was leaning into his side as well, and he could have sworn he heard the girls of New Directions smothering laughter behind them.
"He is so cute!" Grace actually clapped her hands in delight. "I'm so happy for you!"
Kurt gave Blaine a crooked smile. "Looks like you have fans of your own."
"Oh, Sarah has been so annoying about this." Tanya made a face. "She's this girl in our class. She's like, so unbelievably snotty. And full of herself. And she said she was going to like, steal you away or something. I was like, hello, gay and with a cute–" she gave Blaine an up-and-down stare, and corrected herself, making Blaine blush " – hot boyfriend. Such a brat."
"Oh middle school politics, how I do not miss you." Kurt grinned in commiseration with the two girls, who proceeded to rave about this Sarah's other misdemeanours.
"Shut up, guys," warned a nearby groupie, whispering quickly. "Here she comes!"
Kurt shot Blaine a highly amused glance as Tanya and Grace groaned but allowed the new girl to push her way to Kurt. Blaine shrugged back at his boyfriend and turned to smile at her. She was pretty in a made-up kind of way, but she had a too-wide smile and clothes a little too adult for her awkward not-yet-teenaged limbs. Add to that the glare and sniff she directed towards Tanya and Grace, and it was clear that not too much of that they'd said was an exaggeration.
"Oh wow." She was momentarily star-struck upon seeing Kurt, gazing up at him with her mouth open. Blaine had to muffle another snort with his sleeve and Kurt hit him lightly without even turning to look at him. Blaine grinned over at Tanya and Grace, who had burst into giggles at their little exchange. Blaine then flicked a glance over at the New Directions, still standing several feet behind them. Most of them had apparently been sufficiently amused and had drifted off, but Rachel, Tina, Quinn, Mercedes, Sam and, oddly enough, Santana were watching the scene play out with varying degrees of interest. Mercedes was arching an eyebrow, a happy, teasing smirk on her lips as she gazed pointedly at Kurt and then winked at Blaine – he is so never going to live this down, she seemed to be saying. Blaine winked back in wordless agreement before going back to watching Kurt interact with yet another fan.
"Hello," Kurt said kindly.
"Hi," Sarah replied, also sounding short of breath (Are all these girls asthmatics or what? Blaine wondered randomly.). "I was watching the performance, and it was excellent, and that round-house, was incredible. Also, your vocal range –"
Blaine saw Tanya rolling her eyes out of the corner of his own. He had to concur – young as she was, this girl reminded him Rachel, but with none of the genuine sweetness and care that the petite diva was capable of (and that made her and Kurt more similar than they cared to admit).
Kurt was patient with her, smiling along to her lengthy, pretentious list of praises. Blaine was proud of his boyfriend, in love with the way Kurt had dealt with these girls. Kurt's hand snaked around behind him to grab onto Blaine's once, squeezing tightly before reaching with both hands to grasp Sarah's bright pink finger nailed ones. The girl shut up instantly, mooning at Kurt. Blaine's face was aching from all the smiling he was doing.
"Well, Sarah, I appreciate your attention to detail and highly . . . useful comments, but my friends and I have to get going –"
"Oh, no, wait!" Suddenly the awestruck twelve year-old was gone, and a smug, coy snob had taken her place; that was rather a creepy look on a young girl's face. "There's someone else who wants to meet you."
Blaine could see Kurt trying to come up with a polite excuse and he himself was turning towards their friends, ready to silently ask them to intervene. But then he saw the looks on their faces. All of them were wide eyed; Santana was leering and Mercedes mouthed a soundless 'Hot damn.'
Blaine turned back, slowly, catching Tanya and Grace's own gobsmacked expressions. He finally saw what they saw, and damn.
He was tall – taller than Kurt. He had gorgeous auburn hair, a shade of deep red Blaine would have thought unnatural if it didn't match his eyebrows, and look so natural against his pale peach skin. He had dark blue eyes and an expression on his face that was kind and not at all smug. He shook his head at Sarah, giving Kurt a faintly self-conscious smile. "Hi Kurt – I'm embarrassed to say I know a little too much about you, and I'm sure you know why."
Blaine felt a strange pulling at his heart as Kurt smiled back understandingly. "It's fine – I take it you were also an involuntary spectator?"
The guy grinned and no, no, he did not just slide his eyes up and down Kurt's cheerleading uniform clad body. He did not. The urge Blaine felt to wrap Kurt up in a robe and hide him from prying eyes was completely unreasonable. He could feel his eyebrows knitting in confusion – these were new and very unwelcome sensations, originating in his chest and making him think that maybe he was coming down with something. Unwittingly, he thought of Karofsky and . . . oh. Oh no. "I can't say that I was – Sarah said 'cute guy in a cheerleading uniform' and well, I'm here."
Kurt blinked in surprise, and Blaine felt more irrational panic seep into his system – this guy was gay.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Kurt stuck out a hand. "And for official introduction's sake – my name is Kurt Hummel."
"Jake Crander." A smooth, uncallused hand gripped Kurt's, and Blaine winced as they made contact. "Sarah's my sister, and this isn't exactly the way I would have liked us to meet."
Kurt tilted his head, and along with the odd sensation surrounding his heart, a sick rumbling came to life low in his belly, twisting and growing as Kurt spoke with a degree of interest, "I wasn't aware . . . that is, I assume you aren't a native of Lima?"
Jake shook his head. "No, not anymore – I go to ISU, Indiana State, over in Terre Haute. Just visiting my family for the summer."
Kurt huffed a quiet laugh. "Naturally. I suppose anywhere would better than Lima, though I myself have great aspirations for New York."
"Make it there, and make it anywhere, right?" Jake was arching an eyebrow, smiling wide and invitingly, and he totally made the cheesiness of that line work for him. Blaine was feeling all sorts of things now – none of them good, most of them involving getting Kurt away, fast. It was unfair that he'd had to deal with two gay guys checking out his boyfriend – he was well within his rights to hide Kurt away from them, wasn't he? "So, want to grab a coffee now that you've wowed everyone here and acknowledged your groupies?"
There were several gasps from behind and around him. Blaine felt his world tilt dangerously on its axis. This boy – no, this man – who was everything Blaine wasn't, had just asked his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend out, and of course, why wouldn't he? Kurt was stunning in so many ways. Jake hadn't even glanced Blaine's way, didn't view him as a threat – and why would he? Blaine was clearly out of Kurt's league, and short and at times so obtuse when it came to the wants and needs of his boyfriend – his lizard brain, newly discovered, reared up and hissed in his mind: How dare this jackass try and take Kurt from me!
In a whirl of panic and anger, he opened his mouth to ream the guy out (or just beg him to leave and never come back), but Kurt cut him off, shaking his head as he spoke, "While I appreciate the offer, I'm here with my boyfriend." And once again, Blaine's hand was clasped in Kurt's. Kurt gifted him with his widest, sweetest smile. A cool, soothing relief quenched the burning in his veins and chest, eased the nausea in his belly. Blaine gave him a dopey smile back.
Jake started, turning to finally look at Blaine, and then to his sister, who was fidgeting and blushing. He levelled her with a stern glare before returning his gaze to Kurt, looking apologetic.
"Right. Well, my assumption that no one in Lima would have the smarts to snatch you up is now totally blown out of the water." Jake extended a hand over to Blaine, who shook it politely. "You're a lucky guy."
"Noted," Blaine said with a wide grin. "And you have good taste."
Kurt was surprisingly unembarrassed by the exchange, no hint of a blush on his face. He smiled good-naturedly at Sarah, and shot the now giggling Tanya and Grace a knowing wink.
"It was good to meet you, Jake," Kurt said graciously, tugging on Blaine's hand. He walked over to the two girls who were whispering to each other and blushing as they glanced at Kurt and Blaine's joined hands. Kurt leaned in and said in a low voice for only their ears, "Tanya, Grace – track me down on Facebook, I'd be happy to add you as friends."
The beaming smiles that he received at that statement could have easily outshone the sun. Kurt faced the New Directions. "Hey guys, I'm taking off with Blaine – meet up later at Breadstix?"
"Text me, and we'll let you know!" Mercedes called as she walked away, pressed in close to Sam's side.
"Keep the wankiness to a minimum, boys," Santana yelled for all within earshot. "Unless you're going to tape it and share with the rest of us."
Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt pulled him away before he could shoot back a witty rejoinder. He pouted at being deprived, but Kurt was leading off to the parking lot and he now got to have some private time with his boyfriend. And his cheerleading uniform. He tried to keep the leer off his face, but he wasn't sure that he was entirely successful.
"You okay?" Kurt asked as they finally broke free of the crowds, walking at a more leisurely pace.
Blaine nodded. "Why do you ask?"
Kurt shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "No reason. You seemed tense during that whole thing with Jake. I just felt the need to make sure you weren't feeling any . . . jealously."
He scoffed, though Kurt had hit the nail right on the head. "Of course not. I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, is all. He was older, and clearly into you." It was a weak excuse, but he coupled it with a soft smile and clasping Kurt's fingers affectionately while he pretended to not care that some college guy, with way better looks and far more experience, had hit on his boyfriend, who had never really encountered any other gay guys except for Blaine and Karofsky.
Thinking of the football player had his insides twisting up all over again, so he pushed on, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own. "So, what's the plan?"
"We go to my currently empty house," Kurt recited as he paused in front of a shop window, tilting his head at the mannequin in the display. Blaine liked the shirt it was wearing – it was a gorgeous sapphire colour he could see his boyfriend pulling off wonderfully. "And we take advantage of said emptiness. And I change out of this sweaty uniform."
Blaine had instantly opened his mouth to object, when Kurt shot him a sly grin. "Though I could leave that last part up to you. I can change before or after we have our alone time. It's Warbler's choice." Blaine shut his mouth, his cheeks warming under Kurt's perceptive stare. His boyfriend nodded once, looking distinctly smug. "That's what I thought."
He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Kurt's obvious self-satisfaction, but he didn't voice a single objection either. He couldn't and didn't want to. Glancing around them, and seeing no one in particular close by or looking towards them, he leaned to give Kurt a quick peck on the cheek. "You're far too good to me."
Finally, there was a hint of pink to Kurt's features, but the smirk was also firmly in place. Kurt returned the peck, brushing his lips against Blaine's temple. "Yes, yes I am."
Blaine laughed, pushing against Kurt's shoulder harder this time. A throat clearing behind them interrupted their moment. They both turned around simultaneously to see a boy – probably around their age – with gorgeous olive skin and warm dark brown eyes. He smiled widely at Kurt, and totally ignored Blaine.
Blaine blinked, and glanced from Kurt to the boy and back again. Wait . . . are you kidding me?!
"Hi." His voice was a little rough as he spoke, but steady and confident. "My name's Daniel, and I was hoping I could catch you before you headed out."
Kurt gave Blaine a rueful smile before saying, "Listen, I appreciate any compliments to do with the performance, but I really have to go –"
"In that case, let me be quick – you're really, really hot and I'd like to offer you my number."
Blaine's jaw dropped and his ire rose yet again. With some effort, he held back an incredulous, snappish remark, closing his mouth and gritting his teeth. Kurt held his hand tightly while laughing. "Wow, that's forward of you. And flattering. But this lovely boy you see next to me is my boyfriend, so I really can't accept."
Daniel flicked his eyes towards Blaine, appraising him quickly and looking rather unimpressed, if not disdainful. Blaine didn't really know what to do with all the irritation and anger he was feeling – he'd never felt this way before – and this was the third time today. First with Karofsky, then with that Jake Crander, and this, this Daniel, and really, it was too much.
"Hm, well, that's . . . nice. But you know, let me give it to you anyways – in case you're not exclusive or you happen to . . . move on. To better things," he said with a flirty, easy-goingness to his tone. Though it was obvious he was being serious. And that was it.
"Excuse me," Blaine interjected quietly before Kurt could react. "But this most certainly is an exclusive relationship, and even if he were to move on to better things, those better things would most definitely not be you. So back off before you embarrass yourself further."
He was proud of himself for not raising his voice or threatening violence like every instinct in him was screaming to do. The shameless Casanova stared at Blaine in surprise, and looked over to see Kurt mirroring his expression – eyebrows up, mouth slightly parted. He snorted to himself and arched an eyebrow at Blaine. "All right, munchkin." Blaine bristled at that. "I'll back off. But get used to this happening a lot. You're dating way, way above your level and someday he's gonna realize that."
He shot Kurt one last infuriating smile before walking away. Blaine fumed silently to himself, swallowing down a vicious parting shot. The nerve of these, these bastards ogling his boyfriend, or asking him out while he was standing right next to him. It made him want to do something ridiculous and caveman-like – lock Kurt away, or make him wear a sign or something, declaring him off the market, because he was Blaine's boyfriend. He exhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down, with little success. In this short afternoon, he'd experienced a whole new host of unpleasant emotions, and it was hard to deal with them all at once.
"Blaine," Kurt pulled at his hand. "C'mon, let's go."
Blaine inhaled deeply, concentrating on letting go of his indignation and of his (he could admit it now) jealously. He followed Kurt, allowed himself to be dragged, not to the parking lot, but another quiet alcove, this one leading off to a maintenance room. He waited, expecting Kurt to ask about or lightly tease him for what just happened, but instead he bit his lip, eyes shining brightly and seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"I got cornered by this reporter right after we finished performing. She pushed her way into our victory huddle, and started asking questions about us, about Coach Sylvester, about me, about my 'lucky girlfriend' . . . And now that I think about it, I swear she was eying me up. Which is creepy, because I'm sure the woman was about Carole's age."
Blaine groaned, because of course, there would women after Kurt too. He failed to see why Kurt was suddenly telling him this. "Okay. And I assume you said 'no comment' or something to that effect?"
Kurt's smile was sudden and beautiful. He let go of Blaine's hand, only to wrap an arm around his waist, drawing him in, wrapping his other arm around his back when he was close enough. He nuzzled his nose against Blaine's, answering in a soft voice, "Actually, when she asked if any of the Cheerio girls were my girlfriend, I very politely told her no, but that my amazing, awesome, talented boyfriend – lead singer in his glee club – was here to support me." Kurt grinned, blushing and pulling Blaine even closer. He felt his spirits rising, and his own grin coming back, even as Kurt's lips brushed against his own, whispering, "I doubt that will make the air, but I put it out there for worldly consumption all the same. If I could take out an ad in every local and national newspaper proclaiming this, I would – and were it not entirely classless, I would have someone write it out in smoke across the sky or . . ."
Blaine wanted to hear more, he really did, but those lips just had to be kissed – this boy needed to be held and made out with, as often as possible, and it was his duty to do this. One he adhered to as frequently as he could, with great gusto and pleasure. Kurt inhaled deeply before sliding his tongue across Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine parted his mouth quickly, allowing Kurt to slip inside and they had both gotten to be so good at this. One of Blaine's hands was slipping down, down along Kurt's side, across his hips, so few layers between his hands and that skin and that uniform.
Kurt pulled away far too quickly, with a slick, wet sound that had Blaine whining a little. He opened his eyes to meet Kurt's from across the short distance between them. Those gorgeous eyes were bright with happiness, and Kurt let Blaine lean back slightly, though he didn't loosen his hold on him at all.
"I would've thought this goes without saying, but I'm yours, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said breathlessly. "And while seeing you all possessive and jealous was both satisfying and rather . . . attractive, it's really very much unnecessary."
Blaine dropped his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "I know that, I do. But I can't help feeling protective of my claim. You're quite the catch, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt laughed. "So are you, Blaine."
Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's neck, inhaling the faint scent of sweat, cologne and deoderant. It was inherently boy, and specifically Kurt, which was perfect and comforting, and all things right in the world. He kissed the pale skin under his mouth one more time, lingering long enough to feel a slight tremor from the body he was wrapped around, before pulling back and grinning teasingly. "You seem to have become pretty comfortable with your status as a hottie."
"Ah, you have no one to blame but yourself for that," Kurt said primly, though his cheeks bore a familiar pink stain across them. "You've been doing nothing but boosting my confidence and ego for the past five months. I may even seek a modelling career – clearly this beauty must be shared with as many as possible."
"As long as you're mine first, and theirs only to stare at from afar, I can be okay with having a famous model for a boyfriend," Blaine agreed easily. "But no live shows, okay? I don't think I could handle that many people drooling over you at once. Especially if they try and ask you out afterwards."
"Hazards of that kind of career, darling," Kurt said with a wave of his hand. "Get used to it."
"In that case, can I have my shy, self-conscious boyfriend back, please?" Blaine let out an undignified giggle as Kurt poked him in the side a few times. They stood there, wrapped up in each other, grinning inanely.
Eventually, Kurt disentangled their limbs. "Let's go – we only have a couple of hours before my dad and Carole get back and I want you to myself. At least three girls were checking you out on our way out of this place, and I feel the need to assert my claim on you too."
Blaine blinked. "Really? When was this?"
Kurt glanced back at him as they reached the parking lot at last. "Oh Blaine, you really didn't notice?"
"I was too busy alternating between being jealous about that stupid Jake and . . . Daniel." It was on the tip of his tongue, to mention Karofsky. He should, maybe, tell Kurt about that conversation, about the fact that the jock had some kind of crush on Kurt, despite ditching him on the floor at prom.
"Blaine?"
They had reached their cars, parked with two spaces between them. Kurt was watching him curiously. "What's got you so serious all of a sudden?"
Blaine worried his lower lip for a moment, considering what to say. He shook his head once, smiling brightly. "Nothing – just contemplating the many options we have for our afternoon. I don't suppose that outfit comes with pom-poms?"
Kurt reached out to smack him on the shoulder, but Blaine ducked away, laughing as he sought refuge in his car.
"Just for that I won't show you my backbend!" Kurt called as Blaine opened his driver side door. "And you'll miss out on the cheer I wrote for you!"
Blaine shut the door, rolling down the window to call back, "C'mon Kurt – red and black pom-poms – one little jump with those in hand, and I'm yours!"
"You're already mine, Blaine." Kurt was in his own car now, having rolled down the passenger side window to reply and blow a kiss to Blaine, a full-blown, teeth-and-all smile on his face. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
Me either, he thought to himself, grinning at the cheesy sentiment, loving that Kurt felt the same.
For whatever reason, his mind brought up an image of Karofsky, looking pained and so alone as he told Blaine that he couldn't quite let go of Kurt. His fist clenched in his lap reflexively, and he could acknowledge his jealously rather easily now, but he was also nervous and scared, and wondering if hiding this from Kurt was really the best thing. They prided themselves on being completely honest with one another, and this was something he knew Kurt would tell him about if the situation was reversed, no question.
Blaine exhaled slowly as Kurt began pulling out of his space. He would have to tell him eventually; Kurt deserved and needed to know, and Blaine could not lie to his boyfriend about something that directly affected him. He'd never be able to feel comfortable around him if he did that. While he didn't feel that Karofsky was a danger (anymore), perhaps between Blaine and Kurt they could figure out a constructive way to help the other boy.
But was it so selfish of him to want a quiet, drama-free afternoon with a sexy, cheerleading uniform-clad Kurt?
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he jumped, receiving the call from Kurt with a smile, putting him on speakerphone as he finally turned on the engine of his car.
"Hey, sorry, I just spaced out for a bit," Blaine said as he looked over his shoulder, pulling out slowly.
"Just making sure – I didn't see you following me, and I got worried for a second that you were bailing."
"Never," Blaine said passionately, eyes widening. "I'm right behind you, just give me a sec to catch up."
"Hurry," Kurt breathed out into the phone before hanging up, and Blaine whimpered out an embarrassing sound at that whispery tone. He should never had admitted to Kurt how much that got to him – it was a weakness Kurt shamelessly exploited whenever he could.
He exited the parking lot a little faster than the speed limit signs directed, and caught sight of Kurt's Navigator at a red light. He honked once to let Kurt know he was nearby and ready to tail behind him.
At this point, he could honestly say he'd follow this boy to the ends of the earth, if that's what it took to keep him all to himself.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Author's Note: Hi everybody! *waves* You've been fabulous, and patient, and here I am . . . with half an epilogue. Sorry, it got away from me, length-wise, but I'm working my tail off to get that second part up (ideally, I'd like to post it before Glee airs on Tuesday, but I very much doubt I'll make it . . . I still have readings to do for school, which I've naturally not touched D:). JustYourAverageRavenclaw and 1stkitty - I tried to incorporate your ideas into the next half :) I know you probably didn't have any expectations on that front, but inspiration struck and I did my best to listen to it.
Thank you again for everything - for favouriting, alerting, and especially reviewing - this has not been a good year for me, so far, but you guys have been wonderful at making me forget that :D
OH, also, I've recently figured out how to do the LiveJournal thing (albeit barely), and you can find me on there, under this same author name - I'll try to post this part on LJ soon :)