Disclaimer: surprise surprise, glee still isn't mine.
X~X~X
Quinn breathed in deeply, inhaling the faint, sweet scent of peperment and pine. She snuggled even closer to her pillow, the smell making her remisnce about old Christmas times and holiday memories.
..Until she realized the 'pillow' wasn't a pillow, but a crevace between a chest and a shoulder.
Wiat..what?
Quinn opened her eyes quickly and glanced at her surroundings. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed she was in a bed -not the most comfortable but still pretty big. Posters of different singers and bands covered the beige walls, and a giutar was propped up in one corner. Clothes - male clothes to be exact- were strewn across the tiny area, but still seemed to be clean. She was wearing someone elses clothes, a large t-shirt and boxer shorts. But what really struck her as strange was her position. Her arm laid across a warm body that what she could tell from the breathing patterns was asleep. The person's arms were wrapped tightly around her body, and the head resting peacefully on tp of her hair. Their legs were tangled underneath the covers. She looked up to realize that the myseterious human was Blaine.
She smiled at his appearence. What was not under the blankets was a cotton grey t-shirt that gave hint of the his muscles lying underneath. His chest moved up and down slowly and peacefully, and light snores escaped his slightly opened mouth. Quinn almost giggled out loud at his hair. Curls sprung out from all directions, some falling over his forehead and into his eyes. Instinctively, she reaching a hand to brush them out of his face. Blaine let out a contented sigh and nestled himself impossibly closer to Quinn.
Could he be more of a cuddle whore?, Quinn thought, gigging softly to herself, but quickly extiguished the happy thought. After all, she knew in just a few short hours that this blissful, almost domestic moment would be gone, and tomorrow's problems would have to be faced.
X~X~X
Blaine stretched, not wanting the morning to be there already. He reached over to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel Quinn's body, but he was met with a cold mattress. He opened his eyes and looked around. Once realizing Quinn was defiantly not in his room, he groaned, stood up, and made his way towards the main ran a hand through his hair and stopped abruptly at the sight before him.
Quinn was in his kitchen, making coffee. She was clad only in one of his old Dalton shirts, obviously too large for her small frame, and a pair of his boxers. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, loose strands hanging down; much like the day they had first met on that abandoned road. He never really thought much about how Quinn would look in his clothes, and he was definitely pleasantly surprised. However, her attire did not distract him from the fact the her bruises - though less prominent than the night before thanks to Blaine's nursing- were still noticeable, running along her arms and ankles and disappearing into her oversized shirt.
Quinn turned around and blushed at Blaine's blatant staring. "I, uh, made coffee. To thank you. For last night."
"Thanks," Blaine said, sitting at one of the barstools and gratefully accepting the steaming cup of caffeine Quinn handed him.
They sipped their coffees quietly for a few minutes. Blaine was not much of a morning person, and wouldn't have more than a minute conversation unless he had an espresso running through his body.
"How did you sleep?" Blaine said, trying to break the obvious ice that was forming between the two's usual chemistry.
"Good. Excellent, actually. You're quite the cuddle monster, Ohio," Quinn said, dissolving the ice and returning back to her normal wit.
Blaione blushed. "Sorry."
"No, no," Quinn replied. "It was...cute. And comforting," she gave him a reassuring smile.
Blaine returned the grin. "As much as I love small talk, I think I deserve a little more explanation for last night," Blaine spoke, dreading the conversation he knew had to happen.
Quinn's smile faltered and she leaned against the counter, sighing. "Your right. What do you want to know?"
"Why did you come here?"
Quinn dropped her head. "I didn't have anywhere else to go," she responded simply, but still looking ashamed.
"Do you think he's going to come looking for you?" Blaine asked, inwardly beaming at the adorableness of Quinn's last comment.
"I honestly don't know," Quinn answered, her voice shaking a bit. This was obviously a touchy and hard subject to talk about, so Blaine took the hand that wasn't clasping the coffee cup and lightly held onto Quinn's hand, gently urging her to continue. "He was really intoxicated last night, so he probably won't be waking up and thinking straight until around 3. But afterwards, I think he will," Quinn told, sounding fearful. "I'm so scared and confused, Blaine. I have no idea what I'm going to do."
Blaine was scared and confused about the situation as well, but didn't want Quinn knowing that. The last thing the poor girl needed was to loose hope. So he put on a brave face and smiled at her. "We'll figure something out. I promise. You don't have to go through this alone anymore."
X~X~X
Blaine was terrified out of his mind.
After everyone had come home and returned to their designated apartments, he had called his group of friends to a meeting. With Quinn's consent, he solemnly told the group about her situation, and they were immediately supportive and eager to help. After an hour of brainstorming, they had formed a plan.
Which led to him, Artie, Rory, Finn, and Sam at Noah's front door. And Quinn, Mercedes, Brittany, and Rachel at his apartment. He gulped audibly and knocked on the front door, with his gang behind him, nodding encouragingly. After almost five minutes of waiting, the door swung open.
To a very hung-over and tired Noah Puckerman. Who did not look too happy at the men before him.
"Hey, guys! What's up?" Noah said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Can we come in?" Artie asked, his politeness obviously being stretched.
"Sure, sure," Noah said, opening the door wider and inviting the men inside.
"Sorry about the mess," Noah said, addressing the liquid stains on the ugly carpet and pieces of glass littering the corners, an obvious attempt to cover the clues of last night's events. Blaine waited for an explanation, but Noah's excuse never came. "I wasn't expecting company."
"Where's Quinn?" Finn questioned, getting right to the point.
"Uh, she's still sleeping. She was really tired last night, ya know?" Noah lied.
"Oh really?" Blaine asked sarcastically, gaining new courage and stepping dangerously closer to the man. "Because I know for a fact that she's over at my apartment."
The next few minutes happened in a slow motion blur. Noah winded up his hand and punched Blaine in the face, the blow causing the musician to stumble. His friends reacted quickly, Sam fighting back and pushing Noah into the wall. Once Blaine regained his footing, and even though his cheek was on fire, and he was sure his nose was bleeding, he took out everything on Noah. Sam and Finn held him in place while Blaine went at it, punching and kicking Noah whenever it was visible.
"How does that feel?" Blaine growled, hitting him hard in the chest, getting a groan of pain in response. "Being on the other side of the beating? Not so good now, huh?" Blaine sneered.
"Whoa, dude, slow down, you're gonna kill him!" Rory warned, trying to pull Blaine back but too no avail .
:"Seriously dude," Artie chimed in, grabbing Blaine's other arm and pulling him back, Blaine hands still flailing around.
"No! He needs to get what he deserves!" Blaine yelled, and he was sure steam was blowing out of his ears.
"I think you punished him enough," Finn stated, looking down at Puck's crumpled body on the floor, small moans of pain coming from it every few seconds. "I think it's time for us to go."
"Wait!" Blaine exclaimed, jerking out of his friend's death grips on his arms and leaning down to the heap on the floor. "You even come close to Quinn again, or try to contact her, I won't be hesitant in killing you next time," He threatened. "Understand, Noah?" No reply. "Do you understand?" he demanded, grabbing the collar on his shirt.
"Yes!" Noah yelled, then slumped back down to is earlier position.
Blaine stood up and turned to face his friends, his face red from his rage and injuries. "Let's go."
X~X~X
"What happened?!" Mercedes shrieked, looking at the group of men in front of her, all looking tired and sore.
"Blaine just beat the crap out of Noah, that's what happened," Artie explained, rolling himself next to the couch where Rachel and Brittany were sitting.
"Wait what?" Rachel asked, a confused expression on her face. "Blaine? Beating someone up? That's not my brother."
"Well you better get your eyes checked," Rory retorted. "Because unless that bruise and bloody nose are figments of my imagination, I'm pretty sure he did."
The girls all gasped at Blaine's appearance they were oblivious to just seconds earlier. "What happened?" Rachel demanded.
"Does it hurt?" Brittany asked.
Blaine did love all this attention, but now that his anger had died done, his face was really starting to hurt. He looked over at Quinn, who had remained silent since the group had arrived. She stared back at him with something Blaine couldn't decipher in her beautiful multicolored orbs.
"Guys, you need to stop crowding him," Quinn finally spoke out, her voice more calm and soft than the rest of the group. She stepped closer to him, letting her fingers brush over his growing bruise. "If you look like this, I'm afraid to ask what the other guy ended up with," she whispered, earning a smirk from Blaine.
"Let us girls go clean him up," Mercedes suggested, taking Blaine's hand and dragging him towards the tiny bathroom, which definitely couldn't hold all the girls. Try as they might, Mercedes and Quinn were the only ones able to fit in the bathroom with still a little bit of breathing room to move around and fix Blaine up.
Quinn grabbed some sort of bottle and wetted a towel. Gently, she leaned down and wiped at Blaine's bruising an red face. He winced at the contact, but Quinn's comforting gaze urged him to be strong. Once the two girls had finished cleaning his face up as much as possible, they led him back into the living room, seating him on the couch. Artie, Finn, Sam, and Rory were each explaining the afternoon's events to the surprised girls.
. Blaine was feeling exhausted. The pain medications weren't helping with that, and he found himself drifting to sleep on Quinn's shoulder during Sam's rendition of the fist fight.
X~X~X
whoa, my longest chapter yet! hope you enjoyed!