Hey everyone. I'm sorry, honestly. I went through a period of being completely uninspired by this story. But I'm better now!
Anyway. I make no promises about when I shall next update. If this chapter has ten reviews I would feel obligated to update next weekend. The Klaine make-out is especially for you, Klainebowsandpercabeth. I hope it doesn't scare anyone off.
Five people sat around a dinner table. One glared. One was nosy. One was brooding angrily. One was distinctly ill at ease. The last had a picture of Edward Cullen propped up against his glass.
That one was Finn. He was sighing melodramatically every once in a while. His stepbrother was scowling morosely at him from across the table. The loss of his beret was gnawing at him, and Finn's tragic romance was infuriating at the best of times. Blaine was nervously debating whether he should intercede, if a fight broke out (and he estimated Kurt's tolerance would break after about two more sighs). He didn't want to come off looking like a wimp, but the Hummel-Hudson boys could get vicious. Blaine was reasonably certain he was too talented and too sexy for the world to lose him like that.
Finn sighed emphatically. Twice. Blaine watched in horror as a vein in Kurt's eyebrow throbbed wrathfully. Kurt rose slowly and meaningfully to his feet.
"Try me, Finn." He hissed across the table. "Sigh like a Belieber one more time."
Finn met his stepbrother's eyes, tilted the Edward picture (which he had gotten from God knows, and no-one else really wanted to know, where) at a better angle and sighed very deliberately.
Kurt lunged. Blaine, Carole and Burt skidded back from the table as Kurt climbed onto Finn's back like a monkey and smashed his face into his bowl of stew. Finn took a handful of potatoes and began massaging them into Kurt's hair.
Blaine shuddered and touched his perfectly gelled locks for comfort. He had been right not to risk this. There was a pinging from the microwave oven and Carole strolled out of the kitchen with three bowls of popcorn. She gave one to Burt and one to Blaine. Blaine smiled, whispering his thanks. It was great how the Hummel-Hudson's always made him feel like part of the family.
After about an hour of entertaining brawling, Burt detached the two boys and sent them to their respective rooms. Blaine took that as his cue to say goodnight, which he did very graciously, like the gentleman he was. He was unlocking his car when he felt sharp pains on the back of his head.
"Ow, ow, ow, what...are those pebbles?"
"Yes." Kurt answered from the window of his room.
"Why are you throwing them at me?"
Kurt kept idling flicking pebbles as he explained. "Finn's been watching various renditions of Romeo and Juliet all week. This is how separated lovers communicate through upper-storey windows."
"No, it's not! The one outside throws the pebbles, so they make a noise on the glass and no-one gets hurt!" A pebble struck his face as he said this. "I think I'm bleeding."
"Blaine, honey, be honest with yourself. I throw the pebbles in this relationship."
Blaine looked a little sulky. "You've got my attention! Stop the pebbles!"
Kurt acquiesced. "Listen, I have a plan. But it requires me sneaking out."
"Your parents..." Blaine worried.
Kurt made a dismissive motion. "They won't notice. When they send us both to our rooms it means they want to have sex."
Blaine's face twisted in revulsion. "That's disgusting."
Kurt agreed. "Beyond disgusting. Giovanna Plowman-esque."
He swung his foot over the window ledge and began climbing down the wall. Blaine freaked out. "What are you doing? Oh my God, Kurt. Be careful. Be careful! Don't fall. Don't look down. But look where you're going. Slowly, go down slowly. Kurt!"
"Relax," Kurt drawled. "The brickwork on this house is ancient, there're heaps of footholds."
Blaine began to pace a narrow circle in fright, holding his arms out in front of him like a forklift. Kurt paused in his climbing and looked curious. "What do you think you are doing?"
"I'm going to catch you." Blaine declared. "If you fall."
Kurt looked down at his midget boyfriend's rigid pose. He decided to be tactful. "That's great, Blaine. I feel much safer now."
Blaine beamed.
After Kurt had completed the hazardous scaling of the wall, with much oohing and ahhing from Blaine, at least until Kurt told him to shut up, they were both buckling themselves into Blaine's mom's Volvo.
"Where are we going?" Blaine enquired from the driver's seat. Kurt looked ominous.
"I'll tell you later. First though, we need to pick up some supplies at your house."
Blaine frowned. "What kind of supplies?"
"I hope your mother likes Italian cookery." Was all Kurt would say.
The task of breaking into Blaine's house was more complicated than breaking out of Kurt's house, firstly because Blaine's parents were sitting in the front room watching David Attenborough explain the mating habits of elephants and secondly, because they owned a terrible, furious, slavering, rabid beast of a dog.
"Kurt, Chichi has never hurt anyone, in all the years I've known her. Plus, she's old now, we've had her since she was a puppy. She's too arthritic to chase these days."
Kurt refused to move an inch closer to the demon. "Look at those teeth, Blaine! Look at those canines! Those are the teeth of a predator! She may look sweet to you, but she's built to rip and tear at your flesh!"
Chichi looked meekly up at them. Blaine sighed, scooped the tiny miniature poodle into his arms and deposited her in another room.
"Will you come in now?" He asked his quivering boyfriend. Kurt gathered the pale remnants of his dignity and stepped manfully across the threshold.
"Well done." Blaine said sarcastically. Kurt moved swiftly onwards towards the kitchen. Blaine followed.
"What are we doing here anyway?" Blaine enquired.
"We're arming ourselves," Kurt replied. "We're defending ourselves against our enemy."
He began pulling whole cloves of garlic out of the fridge.
"Our enemy?" Blaine faltered. "You mean...the vampires?"
Kurt nodded grimly, his pockets bulging with vegetables. Blaine gasped.
"We're going to their house! This is insane! This is suicide!"
"Man up!" Kurt snapped, then flinched as Chichi scampered in the door to her pink, cushioned bed. "We have to know more about them if we're going to use them as a weapon against Vocal Adrenaline. And, well, if we happened to rescue Lola while we were there..."
Blaine frowned. "Lola? They kidnapped someone?"
Kurt nodded. "A wonderful, beautiful, rust-orange camouflage someone."
"You named the friggin' beret?!"
Outside, a dark figure lurked beside the Volvo.
"Well, well, well." It mumbled to itself. "They're plotting against the Cullens, are they? It appears we have goals in common."
It then began to cackle uproariously. It's large frame shook with giggles. Then it suddenly fell silent, and blended into the darkness. Kurt and Blaine hurried out of the house, newly weighed down with heavy bags of 'equipment'.
"I can't believe you have no religious artefacts in your house. Not one poxy crucifix."
"We're atheists." Blaine excused himself. "What can I say?"
"Anyway, there's got to be a church in Lima somewhere, right?"
"Of course," Blaine agreed. "We'll just go there."
They loaded the bags into the boot, then settled into the front seats. There was a pause.
"I don't know any churches."
"Me neither. Siri!"
Siri blinked into life. "Mr. Anderson?"
Kurt snickered. "You're so pretentious."
"Hello, High Lord Kurt."
"Hey," He mumbled. Blaine regretfully bypassed the opportunity to mock and got straight to the important stuff.
"Siri, where's the nearest church?"
Kurt interjected. "And if it could be on the route to the Cullen Mansion, that would be helpful."
Siri was silent for a moment. "The Church of Saint Marcus is located directly on the route to the Cullen Mansion."
"Fantastic," Blaine said. "Plot a course, babe."
Kurt looked at him. "Did you have coffee? You're very mellow all of a sudden."
Blaine gave an easy shrug. "Siri just brings it out in me."
Kurt discreetly glared at the iPhone.
The navy Volvo sped off into the night. Unbeknownst to it's passengers, it was carefully tailed by a dark and mysterious creature that wasn't human at all. The creature lost the car in traffic at one point, but managed to trace it to the Church of Saint Marcus.
A priest stood in the side doorway and met the creature's eyes. It tilted its head. The priest observed it for another moment, before there was an obnoxious banging on the main doors. He went to answer it and edged the wooden door open to reveal to teenage boys looking expectantly up at him.
"Finally." The taller one said, shouldering past him. "Why'd it take so long to get the door?"
"We were at prayer," the priest answered, his thoughts still occupied with the monster outside. The shorter boy crept in quietly and blessed himself correctly at the font. The priest glanced at him approvingly. Modern teenagers normally just splashed the stuff like toddlers playing in a pool.
"We need religious artefacts," The taller boy said quickly. "Crosses, crucifixes, holy water, figurines, anything."
The priest looked up sharply. "Whatever for?"
"A project." The tall boy answered, at the same time the shorter boy blurted: "Vampires."
Aha. The priest leaned forward, and sure enough, there was a faint whiff of garlic coming from both boys. He drew himself up to his full height and brushed down his impressive robes.
"You have come to the right place, young slayers of the undead."
Neither looked awed. Both, in fact, looked creeped out. The priest swore he saw the taller boy backing away slowly. Undeterred, he plunged into his speech.
"In this church, we carry on the tradition of Saint Marcus, he who drove all vampires from Volterra."
He cleared his throat, and Kurt began desperately scanning for an exit.
"Many of this modern world have forgotten the danger. But we, the followers of Saint Marcus, remember. We know the signs, we recognise the demons. We are ever vigilant, ever watchful. We bring the creatures to destruction."
"Is it suicide?" Kurt whimpered. The priest blinked.
"What?"
Kurt was nearly sobbing. "That's how you do it, isn't it? You destroy vampires with your deadly, boring sermons. You just keep talking at them until they can't see any other way out."
The priest was confused. "No...we - there are many ancient and verified practices and methods - "
"No!" Kurt wailed. "He's doing it to us!" He clung to Blaine's shirt. "Resist it, Blaine, resist."
"I'm resisting," Blaine assured him calmly, patting his shoulder. He looked up at the priest, made an amused face and shook his head slightly, as if to say, "What can you do, eh?"
The priest frowned in befuddlement. "I'll just go get you some artefacts, then..."
"Good man." Blaine said cheerily. Kurt slowly sobered. "Is he gone?"
"Yep." Blaine told him. "Nice impression of a lunatic, by the way."
"Yes." Kurt agreed, nervously laughing. "An impression."
The priest returned, staggering under the weight of a wooden chest. "These are the greatest of our vampire-hunting weapons."
"Yeah, would you just put them in the boot for us?" Blaine told him, unlocking the Volvo. The priest awkwardly stumbled out to the boot, with Kurt and Blaine strolling behind him. The boys watched as he struggled to support the chest with his left foot as he opened the boot.
"Thanks." Kurt commented. The priest nodded, his face tomato-red with exertion.
"Where is...the abode of...the dread...creatures?" He asked them as he bent over to rest his hands on his knees, panting heavily.
"What?" Kurt frowned. "Oh, Cullen Mansion."
The priest started slightly. His cheeks became a little less ruddy. "Well, then,"
He extended a hand for the boys to shake.
"May God be with you in your sacred quest." Blaine shook the hand enthusiastically, then Kurt shook it with far less enthusiasm.
"Oh, we don't believe in God." Blaine informed the priest.
"But don't worry," Kurt added. "We're buoyed up by our faith in a dwarf flying in a teapot, which lives in the other side of the moon and shoots lightning out of its boobs."
The priest didn't know how to respond to that, so he just kept smiling as he watched the teenagers drive off. Then he reached for his phone.
"Master? It's the Cullens. They've done it again."
Alice was not in a good mood, despite Frankie sitting on her head. She'd been content with life up until about twenty minutes ago when she'd suddenly shrieked and started damaging the furniture.
"It's gone! I can't see anything! The future just vanished!"
Jasper had rushed frantically to her side. "What is it? Alice!"
She'd kept screaming at the top of her lungs. Esme passed around earplugs.
"I can't seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eee!"
Edward held up a sheet of paper with the words:
Is it werewolves? One mutt specifically?
"I don't knooooooowwwwwwwwwww!" Alice replied. Bella grabbed the sheet of paper and screwed it into a ball. Edward looked at it. She threw it hard against his head and it bounced off, flying to the other side of the room.
"Don't you dare think a werewolf attack is going to get you out of trouble! I can't believe your behaviour!"
He looked exasperated. "Was I supposed to just let her die?!"
"Don't take that tone with me!" Bella yelled. "Does our love mean nothing to you?"
He gazed at her adoringly. "Bella, you are my life now."
She punched him and he fell over in shock. "Stop using that! I have that on a T-shirt! Get some new lines!"
He cautiously got to his feet, then thought better and fell to his knees. "Bella, I love you more than anything. I'll do anything to make you believe me."
She looked thoughtful. "Anything?"
"Kurt?" Blaine asked quietly. He wished he could retreat out of arms reach, but he was belted into his seat.
"Blaine." Kurt replied testily. A vein in his forehead started to throb threateningly. Blaine swallowed, his mouth dry with fear.
"Where...um, where are we going?"
Kurt's left eyelid twitched. "Cullen Mansion." He spat through gritted teeth.
Blaine winced, but he was committed to his path now. "We're in a, sort of a forest, Kurt." He pointed out sheepishly.
Kurt glared at him like it was his fault. "This is where Siri told us to go. Are you arguing with Siri?"
"No, no, not at all. I was just thinking...we're in a forest."
Kurt's grip on the steering wheel tightened violently. "Yes, we are."
Blaine held up his hands, so far into dangerous territory he was beyond fear. "And that's cool, man, that's cool. There're lots of trees and...other leafy things. Hey, you know what? There's probably spinach."
Blaine grinned happily. It was only then Kurt noted the coffee cup held securely in his hand.
"Blaine, why do you have coffee?"
Blaine pulled the cup close to his chest protectively. "I was nervous. I needed the support." He defended himself.
Kurt eyed the cup, wondering if he was close enough to snatch it. He didn't fancy his chances. Blaine and coffee were notoriously difficult to part.
"We've talked about the coffee, haven't we Blaine?"
"Yes," Blaine admitted sulkily.
"And we agreed it was a bad idea?"
Blaine became suddenly aggressive. "I need it, Kurt, I need it! It makes me so happy...you don't know how hard my life is! Coffee is the only thing I can depend on to keep me sane!"
"Coffee makes you insane." Kurt refuted. Blaine tried to shield the coffee with his own body.
"I never try to stop you shopping, do I?!"
"That's different." Kurt coloured slightly.
"The hell it is!"
"Blaine!"
"I'm sorry, I just feel very strongly about coffee."
"There's no need to swear. What would your mother say? She'd say: Blaine Ignatius Anderson, you do not deserve to wear that bow tie."
Blaine gasped, clinging to his bow tie. "You middle-named me!"
"I did! And so would your mother!"
"Don't you bring my Mommy into this!"
Siri interrupted the rapidly degenerating conversation. "High Lord Kurt, please turn immediately to your right."
Both boys turned to look at the dense wall of forest whipping past them.
"No way." Blaine declared.
"High Lord Kurt, please take an immediate right turn." Siri said in her most persuasive voice.
"She's wrong, Kurt." Blaine insisted. "There's no turn, she can't be right."
"I am Siri," Siri responded. "I am always right."
Kurt looked indecisive for a moment. "I'm with Siri." He said and swerved sharply to the right.
"Ahhhhhh!" Blaine screamed as the tree line came hurtling towards them. Siri's evil, robotic laughter filled the car. Kurt closed his eyes, and Blaine took his final sip of coffee. Then suddenly, he knew what to do.
He unlatched his seatbelt, then Kurt's, grabbed his boyfriend, flung the car door open, then made a James Bond-esque leap from the car. The two boys rolled safely to a stop on the forest floor, just as the Volvo smashed into a tree.
Blaine stared. "My mother is going to kill me with a stick."
Kurt looked up, his green eyes wide and awed. "You saved us. You saved my life."
"Well, yeah." Blaine shrugged modestly and ran a hand through his hair adorably. Kurt watched with his mouth slightly open for a moment before he pounced.
"Kurt!" Blaine gasped, before he was tackled to the ground and Kurt began kissing him passionately. Blaine's thoughts went kind of fuzzy. He was vaguely aware of cold, wet ground underneath him and Kurt's warm body above him and one of Kurt's hands fisted in his hair, pulling it just slightly too hard to be gentle and yet not enough to hurt. Kurt's other hand was gripping his thigh, and his hands were pressed to Kurt's shoulders. He slid his hand carefully along the muscles of Kurt's chest and down to his hard stomach. He felt Kurt's whole body tremble slightly and he couldn't help moaning against his lips. Kurt's hand inched up his leg.
"We have to stop," Blaine gasped, coming up for air. Kurt ignored him and started sucking softly on his neck.
"R-really, Kurt." He tried to remember where he was going with this. "This is a T-rated fic, and the author isn't sure of the boundaries of that. Plus, she's way out of her comfort zone with this romance/making out stuff. She wants to get back to the comedy."
Kurt pulled his mouth away from Blaine's and stared at him. "I have no idea what you just said."
"Me neither." Blaine confessed. "My brain goes fuzzy when you kiss me."
Kurt smirked as Blaine went and salvaged a bag of coffee from the wreck of the car. Then they both stood looking at each other for a minute, each secretly considering returning to the making out.
"We should probably get back to hunting vampires." Kurt said finally.
"Yeah." Blaine agreed. They both stayed looking at each other.
"We can always...hang out later." Kurt reasoned.
Blaine nodded. "I love...hanging out."
They both grinned and set off into the forest in a random direction, Blaine swigging his coffee.
******Two hours later*******
"My feet hurt," Kurt complained. Blaine collapsed to the ground, and started his ninth cup of coffee.
"Let's face it. We're in the middle of a forest, it's getting dark and the Vampire Mansion is nowhere to be seen."
Kurt sighed. "Let's just go back to the car."
"Agreed." Blaine said, standing up. They both headed off in different directions, then peered back at each other.
"Blaine? The car is this way."
"Actually, my friend, I think you'll find it's this way."
Kurt's smile became a little forced. "I'm afraid you're mistaken."
"No, you're thinking of you."
"Blaine!"
"Blaine!" Blaine mimicked.
"Oh, that's mature."
"Oh, that's mature."
"Just cut it out, Blaine."
"Just cut it out, Blaine."
"Raaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr!"
"Raaa- that wasn't you, was it?" Blaine asked.
Kurt shook his head dumbly.
"No," Blaine rolled his eyes. "That was the grizzly, of course."
The grizzly nodded in agreement.
"Run!" Kurt yelled, grabbing Blaine's hand and racing off into the forest. The two ran for a half-minute before stopping to rest.
"Stitch." Kurt panted. "Did we lose him?"
"Well, I don't think he actually chased us." Blaine reached for his coffee, then froze. "Where's my coffee?"
Kurt looked around. The coffee was...gone. "Did you drop it, or something?"
"I'd never drop coffee." Blaine snarled, and he marched back in the direction they'd come, Kurt trailing behind him.
"Watch out, the grizzly is right there," Kurt hissed shuffling behind a tree. Blaine stayed rooted to the spot, his gaze locked on the bear.
"It has my coffee." He said in a strange voice. Kurt looked at him nervously. "Don't do anything hasty, Blaine."
A murderous light burned in Blaine's eyes. He started forward, towards the unsuspecting grizzly.
"Blaine!" Kurt rushed after him.
About twenty minutes later, Emmett and Jasper were returning from a hunting trip.
"Hey, Jazz." Emmett called. "Is this yours?"
Jasper appeared at his side, examining the probe form of the grizzly. "No. It's not even dead, anyway, it's just unconscious."
Emmett frowned down on it. "It's got some pretty serious injuries, too. This guy definitely came off worse in a fight."
"Wonder what it was fighting with?" Jasper asked quietly.
Emmett looked it over. "Something vicious."
"Yeah." Jasper leaned closer. "I could swear..."
"What?" Emmett looked closely at him.
"It's just..you remember those shoes Alice went mad about a few weeks back?"
"No." Emmett said honestly.
"Italian leather cowboy boots," Jasper said. "But nothing like actual cowboy boots, those things had heels and tassels."
Emmett pulled a face. Jasper nodded. "That's how I felt. But those marks and bruises on the bear look exactly like the boot prints."
Emmett looked at him. "You serious?"
Jasper nodded gravely. "I'm certain."
Emmett nearly busted a gut laughing. "Jazz, pal, you have been spending far too much time with your wife. Hallucinating about boot prints...next thing you know, I'll be wearing miniskirts and Edward will read trashy romance novels."
"He already does that." Jasper deflected. Emmett stopped laughing. "He does?"
"Yeah. He denies it, but he gets really excited every time Bella comes home with 'Sally and her Dark Prince' or whatever."
Emmett was subdued. "God. I...I think that's too terrible to even joke about."
Jasper shook his head. "To tell you the truth, Em, I'm starting to get desensitised to all the freaky stuff that happens around us."
Emmett patted Jasper's back. "Sad, but true. C'mon, let's get back. I don't wanna miss the werewolf attack."
"That rhymes." Jasper said thoughtfully.
"I have been considering trying my hand at songwriting lately." Emmett revealed. Jasper raised his eyebrows.
"Please, make sure I'm around when you tell Edward that. I really, really want to see his face."
The two took off in the direction of the house.
"I love you more than...Plath's poetry. I love you more than...Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
"I still can't believe you watched that show." Bella interjected.
Edward kept listing. "I love you more than...Wicked:The Musical. I love you more than...Beethoven. I love you more than..."
"How long is she gonna make him do this for?" Rose muttered.
"It's been...what, four hours? Alice sees at least four more." Emmett answered.
Somewhere down the road, two disheveled boys climbed out of Blaine's mother's navy Volvo.
"Bella, I love you more than..." Edward took a deep breath. "The Volvo."
The boys began unloading all manner of weird equipment from the trunk of the car. There were several grappling hooks, two flashlights, numerous crucifixes, a penknife, three pens, a notepad, a camera...
Bella looked unimpressed. "It's not enough, Edward."
He was crestfallen. "What is enough? I'll say anything."
"And mean it?" Bella checked.
"I promise!" He vowed.
"Say you love me more than..."
A pepper spray, a bag of garlic, a water gun, a banana...
"What's the banana for?" Kurt asked, holding it up.
"In case they lock us in their basement," Blaine explained. "We could be trapped there for years on end, with no food and no water, on the edge of starvation."
"So you packed one banana?"
"Your piano."
There was much gasping. Everyone whirled round to look. Edward was tortured.
"More than Clarissa? I couldn't. She'd be so upset."
Alice snorted. "I can't believed you named it. It's a musical instrument."
Jasper looked at her. "Oh, really? What about Frankie, can he believe it?"
Two big sticks, a baseball bat, a white flag, walkie-talkies, a condom...
"I'm not even gonna ask." Kurt decided.
"It just went well with the banana." Blaine mumbled, shamefaced.