Author's note: Revised :)

Slamming into the locker room, Blaine shoved through piles of guys everywhere, all of them half naked and tugging on their jerseys. He ignored them, not in the mood to get friendly with any of them. Not that he ever had been friendly with them. He kept his distance from most of them. Walking up to his locker, Blaine pulled it open and saw a picture of Kurt on the inside of it, one of him in his cheer outfit. After he'd found out that Kurt had eagerly joined the cheerleaders—a perfect thing for him to do because he was so cheerful—he'd become obsessed with seeing him strut around in that little skirt. He immediately heard a few of the guys chuckling, but he didn't bother to turn around and see what had amused them. Probably a used condom or a picture of a naked girl.

Blaine pulled off his shirt and reached for his pads, but was stopped by one of them muttering, "Women's locker room is over there." He instantly whipped around, startled by the homophobic comment. A few of the guys were staring at him, smirks on their faces.

"What?" He whispered, yanking his shoulder pads over his head. One of them stepped forward and arched his brows.

"I said… the women's locker room is over there." He pointed over his shoulder at the door, "Maybe your ears are clogged with come." He got a few laughs and shoulder slaps for that last one, and another one of them got right up on Blaine and stole the picture from his locker.

"Don't do it, Blaine." The guy smirked, dangling the picture above the trashcan. Blaine quickly lunged at him and shoved him back, ripping the picture from his fingers. "He's turning you into a fag. You even put your shoulder pads on backwards. Are you already forgetting about sports?"

Gasping, Blaine backed into his locker and waited until all of them left, then he put the picture in his pocket and ripped off his shoulder pads. He didn't really feel like playing, so he shoved them back into his locker and reached for his shirt on the floor. A voice interrupted him from tugging it back on, "What are you doing? The game is in ten minutes."

Blaine looked up at Karofsky, who smirked at him. He hadn't seen Karofsky since the day he beat him, and he cowered down to him, worrying what he might do to him when he found out that he didn't want to play. He reached out and grabbed Blaine's bare shoulder, his fingers sliding up and down it. Blaine pulled away from him, "I'm sick. I can't play."

"I know you better than that." Karofsky raised his brows. Something flashed in his eyes, but he wouldn't lash out on Blaine because there were other boys still getting dressed. He had enough self-control to not attack in front of anyone else. "I know something's wrong. If you want to be an asshole and not tell me, then whatever. Are you still coming to the party after the game?"

Pulling his shirt back on, Blaine walked by Karofsky, "I don't know."

"What?" Karofsky was immediately on Blaine's heels, as nosy as ever. Grabbing Blaine's arm, Karofsky jerked him back and raised his hand as if to slap Blaine. He quickly put it down when one of the guys glanced up at them. He dropped Blaine's arm and hissed very lowly, "If you're not there, I'll break your leg, you fucking asshole."

Blaine was getting so tired of all of the threats, the constant glares and sneers, Karofsky's eyes on him all the time. After years of feeling like he had no control over himself, he suddenly wanted it back, to be on his own again. Blaine would have given everything up to be the person he was before he met Karofsky. Striding away from Karofsky, Blaine walked out of the locker room and around the field where the football players were lining up their positions. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued on to where the cheerleaders were performing, Kurt off to the side of the girls and happily shaking his pom-poms.

He looked very cute in his little skirt and tank top, his legs kicking up every few seconds and his hands spastically shaking. Feeling himself relax, Blaine walked up to Kurt and tugged him away from the girls. Kurt looked very surprised to see him, "Oh! Blaine, shouldn't you be out there?" He pointed at the field as if Blaine wouldn't know what he was talking about.

Blaine shrugged his shoulders, taking Kurt away from the hooting cheerleaders and the cracking of helmets on helmets. He pulled him under a set of bleachers, where it was much quieter, and he said, "I didn't want to play."

"I'm happy you wanted to be with me." Kurt giggled, snuggling into Blaine's chest. They kissed, but were interrupted by another person slipping under the bleachers. Kurt let go of Blaine and put some distance between them, and Blaine watched one of his former friends walk up to them.

Finn had been Blaine's best friend until high school, when they went their separate ways with Puck and Karofsky. He remembered that leaving Finn had been one of the hardest things for him to do, but it was too late to try and glue their broken relationship back together. They'd become distant, and they both knew it was time to let go. Shaking his past from his head, Blaine crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, "What do you want?"

Cocking his head, Finn looked at Kurt, who shyly smiled at him. "Hey, Kurt. You look nice." He returned his attention to Blaine, "I wanted to know if you're coming to the after party. It's at Puck's place, if you're interested."

"I love parties!" Kurt squeaked, patting his fingertips together. "Especially tea parties."

Finn suddenly looked awkward, "It's not a tea party." Blowing out heavily, Finn looked at Blaine again, "Why aren't you playing?"

Blaine turned away from Finn, his jaw tightening, "I don't want to."

Taking a step back, Finn held his hands up, "Okay. Whatever, Blaine. I'll see you at Puck's house." He walked away from them, and Kurt immediately closed the distance between himself and Blaine.

He didn't understand the unspoken tension between Blaine and Finn, but Blaine had seemed to clamp up. His eyes were vague and his lips were pursed. Kurt stroked his jaw, "Blaine, are you okay? You look upset."

It took a long time for Blaine to move, then he turned around and stared at the field, where someone on their team made a violent tackle. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it to one side. Kurt followed his gaze across the field to where Karofsky was slumped over on a bench, his hand on a bloody nose. He wondered how he got hurt so quickly. Karofsky's eyes were directly on them, watching Blaine's every move. Blaine finally tore away from him and hid behind a pole, crossing his arms and scuffing the ground with his shoe.

Kurt looked back up at Blaine's hardened face, "Why doesn't Karofsky like me?" He peeped, glancing back at the man who was glaring at him. "Did I do something to bother him?"

Blaine stayed quiet for several minutes, his cold eyes on the ground. Kurt thought he wasn't going to reply, but then he finally muttered, "Karofsky doesn't like anyone." He started walking away from Kurt, so Kurt scampered after him, reaching for his hand.

Lacing their fingers together, Kurt followed him a few feet away from the field, behind the bleachers and distant from everyone. He looked back at the field where the football players were shouting and smashing each other to the ground. Then he glanced at Blaine, who still looked bothered by something. "Is it Finn?" He whispered, squeezing Blaine's hand. "I thought he was very nice… but did you get in a fight with him?"

"No." Blaine said instantly, "It's just… some things I've done that I shouldn't have." Pulling Kurt closer to him, he stroked his hair. "Do you want to go to this party? It's just a lot of drinking and making out."

Kurt frowned at that, then he looped his arms around Blaine's neck, "Will there be music?"

Blaine nodded and wrapped Kurt in his arms, gently rubbing his bottom. "Yeah."

Smiling, Kurt kissed Blaine's mouth. "We should go! I love music… and dancing to it." He twirled just to show Blaine how much he loved to dance, and Blaine smirked at him. Kurt jumped when the bleachers physically shook as crowds of people got to their feet and applauded wildly. Curious as to what happened to excite them, Kurt scurried away from Blaine and pressed himself to the fence lining the field.

Blaine was quickly on his heels, and he stood behind Kurt, his hands sliding to his hips and his chin resting on top of his head. "We just got another touchdown." He told Kurt, who wiggled.

"Is that good?" He touched Blaine's hands, which were rubbing up and down his sides, his fingers slipping slightly down Kurt's skirt.

"Yeah." He pointed at their team, "We start out on that side and we have to get the ball to the other side of the field." Kurt seemed at least a little interested in what he was saying, following his fingers to everything he pointed at. "That guy right there… the quarterback… gives the ball to the running back. The fullback will block for the running back until he gets a touchdown—"

"Are you really trying to teach a fag how to play football?" Both Blaine and Kurt looked up at the sound of Karofsky's guttural voice, and Blaine narrowed his eyes and pushed Kurt slightly behind him. He knew Karofsky wouldn't do anything because they were still surrounded by other people, but he was probably plotting how violently he was going to beat Blaine later.

Karofsky held a red towel to his nose, his eyes narrowed and glazed. Needing to protect Kurt no matter how badly he was hurt later, Blaine hissed, "Back the fuck away from us, Karofsky. I don't want you near me right now."

Glancing past Blaine to where Kurt was hidden, he sneered, "Stop, Blaine. You don't know what you're doing. That fag is going to drag you down. You'll lose everything." He suddenly reached out for Kurt, and Blaine hit his hand away. "I'm warning you now, fag, stay the fuck away from Blaine."

Kurt squeaked and buried his face in Blaine's shirt, and he stayed like that until Karofsky staggered off. Shivering, Kurt whispered, "Oh, he frightens me. Why is he so mad? I would try to be nice to him if he'd let me… but after those horrible things he did to you—!" He pushed his bottom lip out and stamped his foot.

"Don't." Blaine muttered in a tone that gave no room for arguing. "Don't try with him. I don't want you anywhere near him. Karofsky has things he needs to figure out on his own."

"Like what? Did someone hurt him and make him so angry?"

Blaine reached down for Kurt's hand and gently squeezed it, "I don't know. Karofsky doesn't talk about his past. Someone might have… but I think Karofsky just hurts himself." Sighing, Blaine closed his eyes and kissed Kurt's forehead, then lifted his head when he saw a few of the football players walking past, Puck with a black eye. Finn had his arm around him, leading him toward the locker rooms.

Kurt pressed his fingertips to his lips, "Oh, dear! What happened? Are you okay?"

Puck lifted his head and showed them his swollen eye. He squinted out of the one remaining, "I got in a fight." He muttered, "This guy punched me in the face. The good thing is… the party starts early!" He hollered, and the guys around him hooted and punched each other.

After they hurled themselves into the locker room, Blaine sighed that in the next ten minutes he'd be at Puck's house and sitting through a game of spin the bottle and watching everyone he wanted to avoid drink and make out. He really hated these parties. He looked down at Kurt, who was watching the game again, "Are you ready to go, sweetheart? Puck's house is just a block away."

Kurt followed Blaine when he started walking toward the parking lot, where he found his car and opened Kurt's door for him. Sitting down, Kurt watched Blaine walk around the car and get in, then he asked, "Have you been at Puck's house before?"

Blaine pressed his lips together, obviously bothered by the question. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove onto the road before he finally answered Kurt, "Yes."

That was all Blaine said, so Kurt thought that maybe he didn't want to talk about it, the same as when he didn't want to talk about Finn. He didn't push the subject out of Blaine, and the rest of the car ride was silent. This time it was a little uncomfortable, as Kurt really wanted to know about the things that Blaine wasn't telling him, and Blaine realized that.

After ten minutes, Blaine pulled up in front of a nice looking house, and he opened his door. Unstrapping himself, Kurt glanced up when Blaine popped his door and held his hand out. Kurt happily took it and walked with Blaine up to the front door, where they could already hear yelling. Some of the football players must have beaten them. Blaine knocked on the door and let go of Kurt's hand, and a few seconds later a massive boy with whipped cream on his mouth opened it.

He smirked at Blaine, calling over his shoulder, "Hey, look, it's Blaine." Moving aside, he let them come in, not that Blaine really wanted to.

It was dark inside, but he could see their eyes on him and Kurt, judging them and what they had together. Kurt suddenly looked very uncomfortable, clinging to Blaine's arm as he tried to avoid stepping on empty beer cans and bags of chips. Heavy music blared from the speakers in the corner, music that Kurt definitely couldn't twirl around to.

A guy approached them and held out a beer, "What are you guys drinking? Blaine… a beer?"

Blaine took the beer, even though he wasn't planning on drinking much. Kurt wrinkled his nose at the beer, "Do you have tea or milk?" He asked softly, and someone behind them snorted.

The guy curved half of his mouth, "You're funny, new kid. Have a tequila." He shoved a wine glass into Kurt's hands, running past them when the door opened again. "Hey, it's the girls! Where's the bottle? Where's that fucking bottle? I get to smack my lips to the baby mama's."

Blaine pulled Kurt off to the side of the room, where Kurt wrapped his arms around him and made himself as small as possible, "Oh… this isn't like a party I've ever been to before. My friends and I always had muffins and cake and tea and had nice, lady chats."

"This isn't one of those parties." Blaine said, watching a herd of football players pile into the house. The cheerleaders followed them, among them Blaine's on-and-off girlfriend. Santana was holding hands with Brittany, looking disgusted as the guys shouted and threw themselves at each other.

"Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!" One of the football players shouted, shoving his friends away to get to Quinn, who rolled her eyes at him. "I'd hit that."

"A game?" Kurt squeaked, happily bouncing. "I like games." He hurried forward when everyone started gathering in a circle, and Blaine panicked and reached out for him.

"It's not that kind of game." Blaine frowned when Kurt found a spot beside of Finn and plopped down, "Oh, fuck."

Quinn laughed at something Puck whispered in her ear, then she looked up at Blaine. "Come on, Blaine. I'd make out with you any day."

Rolling his eyes at her teasing, Blaine touched the back of Kurt's shirt and said, "Come here, Kurt. You don't want to play this."

"Don't tell him what to do." One of the football players whacked Blaine away, "If you want to be a pussy, then fine. But let the gay kid live a little." He grinned at Kurt, "You want to be straight for a while?"

Kurt didn't know what he meant, "What?"

One of the football players laid a bottle in the middle of the floor, and Puck immediately reached out and batted it. It landed on one of the cheerleaders, and Quinn looked horrified as Puck leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth.

Kurt's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "Why did they kiss? What about playing a game like charades… like this?" He held his hands up in front of him, then put his fingers above his head. "What am I?"

A few of the cheerleaders laughed, while most of the football players looked shocked. "Really fucking gay?" One of the guys said, and he got a few laughs.

Kurt looked disappointed at their reactions, and he wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled them to his chest. Blaine rolled his eyes, "Don't be mean. He was a bunny."

One of the cheerleaders grinned at Kurt, flipping the bottle toward him. "They kissed because this is a make out game. Take a spin and see who you get."

Kurt stared at the bottle as if he didn't know what it was, and he started scooting toward Blaine. "I don't like this game." He let Blaine lift him to his feet, and the guys laughed at him. Blaine glared at them and nudged Kurt over to the door.

"You want to go home?" Blaine muttered, but saw Finn get up from the corner of his eye. Finn walked over to them, looking just as bored. Well, Kurt didn't look bored, just startled and embarrassed.

"Hey, you guys don't have to leave." Finn offered, "The game sucks but they'll stop when their mouths get sore. You want to hang out?"

Kurt was a little more cautious now, "Does hanging out have anything to do with kissing?"

Finn laughed, "No, it just means sit and talk."

Bouncing on his toes, Kurt said, "Sure! You're the first person who's been nice to me at this party, besides Blaine." He held onto Blaine's hand and was instantly on Finn's heels as he walked over to the couches and brushed off a few beer cans. Kurt perched on one of the couches next to Finn's, and Blaine sat down next to him.

Exhausted, Blaine leaned against the arm of the couch and briefly checked on the game. One of the cheerleaders was sucking on Azimio's face, and Blaine grimaced with disgust. Turning back to Kurt and Finn, he heard Kurt chattering about his favorite dress that Paris Hilton wore. He was talking very fast, a little too fast for Finn who was struggling to keep up with him, his eyes glazed and his mouth hanging open.

He relaxed when he realized they weren't going to talk about Blaine's past with Finn, and he rested his cheek against Kurt's shoulder. Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to go to sleep. Kurt was very soft underneath him, his chin brushing the top of Blaine's head every time he said a new word. He felt Kurt's hands come to his head and tangle in his hair, and Blaine sighed heavily.

He was almost asleep when he was disrupted by the feeling of someone's eyes on him. Cracking his lids, he glanced around and saw that Karofsky had arrived and was standing against the wall behind the game of spin the bottle, staring at him. Furrowing his brows, Blaine looked away in rejection and laid his head on top of Kurt's, a protective stance that showed Karofsky that he couldn't get to Kurt.

Yawning, Blaine closed his eyes again, and he felt Kurt shift under him. Kurt gently pushed him away, holding onto him, and he whispered, "You're very cute when you're sleepy." He looked at Finn and smiled, "Thank you for talking to me, Finn. I think Blaine and I are going home now."

"Nice seeing you." Finn said, "Bye, Blaine."

Blaine half opened his eyes and scowled at Finn, then noticed that he looked very sincere. Turning away, Blaine got up and held onto Kurt's waist. Kurt tiptoed in front of him, still trying not to step on anything gross. "I had fun!" He chattered. "Finn was very polite and nice."

Blaine said nothing about that, opening Kurt's car door for him after they got outside. Kurt slipped inside and waited for Blaine to get in on the driver's side, then he started going on and on again. It was nice hearing his voice the entire way home, listening to him tell him all of what Finn had said to him.

Once they got to Kurt's house, Kurt had finally stopped talking and was curled up in his seat, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "Can I stay over again?" He muttered, staring at his house with dread. He didn't want to leave Kurt, but he also hated going home.

"I'd love that!" Kurt peeped, happily bouncing.

Blaine got out and walked around the car, then opened Kurt's door and picked him up. Cradling him against his chest, Blaine carried him inside and down the stairs. They stripped their clothes off, but then they just laid together, Blaine's arms around Kurt and his hands on his stomach, and Kurt's hands reaching back and grabbing Blaine's thighs. They were both exhausted, and things were still a little tense because Kurt was more curious than ever about the things that Blaine wouldn't tell him.