A/N: Life has been busy and full of ups and downs. I hope you enjoy the next portion of He's the Cheer Captain, I'm on the Bleachers.
Warnings: The rating says M for a reason. Adult Language & Situations below!
Chapter 21: Sweet 16 and Never Been ... Part B
By the time Blaine figured out and fine-tuned his schedule, the Cheerios had fewer than ten days until their first competition. With six hours of academics a day, followed by six hours of practice, he fell into bed exhausted every night. In fact, on two separate occasions, he'd not even managed to have enough energy to change out of his school clothes – basically face planting into his pillow and then waking up in the early morning to his alarm clock.
On the plus side, he'd never been in such good shape.
The few freshmen cheerleaders on the competition squad adored him; Blaine chalked it up to a combination of the fact that they knew having an enormous crush on the handsome sophomore wasn't going to lead to anything and that he had an instinctive ability to break down the harder gymnastics and tumbling moves into manageable bits. In turn, Brittany and Kitty spent extra time with Blaine working on the dance elements that took Blaine additional time to master.
Despite spending six hours a day at cheer practice near Kurt, Blaine had quickly learned this was totally different than being with Kurt. It was all business, all the time. And not just from Kurt. Santana, Sage, Rosemary, Mike and Sam were quick to point out anyone's faults and explain what needed to be done to correct them. As all the veteran members of the team repeated ad nauseam, competition was a game of numbers – and no one wanted to be the person to cost the entire team a win because he or she didn't hold a lift long enough, or slipped on a tumbling pass.
Blaine absorbed the tremendous balance of leadership that Kurt and Santana managed between them. When Kurt began to stress out and became frustrated when something wasn't coming together the way he envisioned, his bitchy side would come out, verbally eviscerating whoever was in his path. Santana was the only one who could calm him and help him see things weren't quite a dire as he made them out to be in his head.
On the flip side, when Santana became angry – it was Kurt, in a bizarre mixture of English and Spanish, who seemed to know exactly what to say to get her to put her claws, and threats of razor blades up in her hair, away.
It was difficult to fathom that less than three months ago, Blaine had sat in the stifling heat of the gym watching the team perform a routine that seemed impossible to believe. It was especially difficult since Blaine knew that the routine they were taking to competition was twenty times more difficult than what he'd seen in August.
But each night when he collapsed on his bed, when he felt so tired that breathing seemed too much of an effort, what Blaine thought about in the few moments before sleep claimed him was how he would be spending the evening hours of the Saturday after competition.
With Kurt.
Hopefully he'd find enough energy to do more than just kiss him goodnight.
Post-practice, the noise of the locker room was never quite as loud – or as frantic. By the time the competition squad was done for the night, they were the only ones using the athletic facilities and, unless the Robotics club was meeting to work on their designs, the only students left on campus.
Eyes closed and forehead pressed against his cool locker, Blaine took a moment to try to remember the combination to the lock. He had half a mind to just strip out of his soaked practice clothing and stand under the showers until classes started the next morning. But not having a clean change of clothes might make things awkward when he attended class in a towel. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Hey, Blaine."
Blaine rotated his forehead so he could peer at Sam through one opened eye. The athletic blond had managed a shower and to change into clean sweats while Blaine had been standing here, trying to find enough mental energy to remember his name. "Hey, Sam."
"I need a favor," Sam said with a smile, shoulder leaning against the bank of locker.
"Does it involve me doing more than blinking?" Blaine asked tiredly. "Scratch that – I'm not sure I have enough energy to even do that at this point."
Sam snickered. "Um, I don't think so. I mean, I think we could work with that."
Blaine nodded against the locker. "Tell you what, if you can get my locker open, I'm in. Whatever you need. Minus sexual favors, of course."
Sam pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and, selecting one, slid it into the back of the lock issued by the school, opening it with a snick. "Custodian gave me copies of the master keys – because it's too hard to track them down this late at night," he said explaining.
Rumbling an acknowledgment, Blaine stripped out of his clothes, stuffing the smelly items into a plastic bag. Grabbing his body wash, he started down the aisle, muttering, "Give me five minutes and then we can discuss your needs, Evans."
So focused on moving one foot in front of the other, Blaine failed to notice Kurt as he walked past. Sam burst out laughing as Kurt shot a confused look from Blaine's naked form to Sam and then back to Blaine. "What fucking needs is he talking about, Samuel?" Kurt asked icily.
Sam shook his head. "Oh. My. God. You should see your face. Shit, Kurt, the only person taking care of that boy's needs is you and you know that, so cut the bullshit jealous act. At least with me. I asked him for a favor."
Kurt folded his arms and stared hard at Sam. "That's not exactly allaying my concerns, Sam."
"Dude, I'm with Rosemary," protested Sam.
Kurt stepped closer until his lips were barely against Sam's ear. "Yes, you're with her now and I'm happy for you. But I know you Sam."
Gripping the sides of Kurt's waist, Sam spun them so that Kurt's back was to the lockers. Pressing his forehead against, Kurt's, Sam whispered softly. "So you know I'd never hurt Rose like that, and I'd never hurt you like that, and I'd never ask Blaine to do something that I know would tear you apart. I may not advertise my sexuality as loudly as you do, but you need to know that just because I'm attracted to both girls and guys doesn't mean that I'm some kind of slut."
Blanching Kurt held up his hands, "That's not what I meant, Sam."
"Well it was kinda hard to tell from your accusatory tone, Kurt." Sam stepped away running his fingers through his messy blond hair. "I offered to make dinner for Rose on Sunday and I'm hoping that Blaine can help with a cooking lesson. That is, if you think you can trust that I won't say thank you by getting down on my knees and sucking him off."
"Fuck, Sammy, I'm sorry for being a bitch." Kurt reached out and tugged at Sam's arm until the other boy turned around. Wrapping Sam in an embrace, Kurt swallowed hard. "I trust you. I've always trusted you."
They stood like that for several long moments before a wet head of dark curls nuzzled under their arms to stand between them. "Mmmm," Blaine sighed, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "This is nice."
Kissing Blaine's curls, Kurt murmured, "Let's get you home, Hobbit. Sam still needs to talk to you about the favor he needs." Helping Blaine gather his things, the three of them made their way out to Kurt's SUV.
"So do you have something simple I can make for her?" Sam asked, carrying his bag and Blaine's. "You know, simple. As in, I have no talents in the kitchen department."
Blaine waved his hand at Sam. "No problem. Any foods she doesn't like? Allergies?"
"No and no. Rose says that in her house, you eat what's put in front of you or go hungry until the next meal." Sam pulled the door open to the back seat and placed his bag and Blaine's on the floor. For his part, Blaine sprawled across the entire back seat, yawning widely.
"Next time you talk to her, ask her if she has any favorite things to eat. And ask if she's okay with pork and beef. I mean, just because you'll eat something because you're hungry doesn't mean you like it. And if you're trying to impress her – we should go with the things she likes to eat."
Looking over his shoulder from the front seat, Sam nodded. "Sounds good. So when do you want to meet? Saturday after practice? Sunday morning?"
"Saturday after practice. You come to my place so I can keep an eye on Papa while he watches the games. I'll give you a shopping list by Thursday. You know, Kurt, if you and your dad and Finn want to come over too, that'd be great."
Clearing his throat, Kurt glanced up at the rearview mirror. "That sounds good. I'll ask."
After saying hello and good night to his mother and grandfather, Blaine made his way to bed. Tossing his bag on a chair, he removed the sweaty, smelly workout clothes and replaced them with clean, fresh clothes, tossing a deodorizing sack in to his duffle to help with the odor of his shoes. That completed, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and pushed his sweat pants to the floor. They'd be fine until the morning.
Just as he was crawling into bed, he heard a quiet tapping on his window. Cautiously, he pulled back the drape to see Kurt glancing over his shoulder at a car passing in the street. Blaine lifted the window sill, gaping at his boyfriend.
Kurt boosted himself into Blaine's room, shutting the window behind him. "Hi," he whispered, standing directly in front of Blaine and feathering his fingertips down Blaine's forearms and palms.
"Hi," Blaine responded automatically, shivering under the light touch.
"I'm Kurt Hummel. I'll be playing the part of your exhausted and horny boyfriend who came home to find his father gone for the night. I'll be ravishing this amazing body of yours this evening," he rasped, clearing his throat lightly. Kurt leaned in, nipping Blaine's lower lip before soothing it with the tip of his tongue.
After a moment of losing himself in the kiss, Blaine jerked away, inhaling sharply. "My mom's home."
Kurt smirked in the low light. "I like a challenge."
Standing in his tight boxer briefs, Blaine shook his head as he took Kurt's hand and slid it down his stomach, and then lower, to cup his growing erection. "We'll be dead if she catches you in my bed," he warned, moving his hips to press himself more firmly into Kurt's hand.
"We'll die happy," Kurt grinned, brushing his lips across Blaine mouth as he slid his hand into Blaine's underwear, wrapping his fingers around Blaine.
Blaine swallowed hard, barely keeping his moan contained. "Am I ever going to be able to say no to you?" Blaine asked, tugging Kurt's shirt off before tumbling them both into his bed.
Kicking off his pants and underwear, Kurt's eyes blazed with heat, "Not if I'm doing things right." Kurt knelt between Blaine's legs, running his hands up the warm expanse of Blaine's chest before lowering himself down until they were pressed together. "Let me know if I'm too heavy," he said, dropping soft kisses on Blaine's collarbone.
"I like it," Blaine admitted softly. "I like your weight pressing me down."
Kurt watched Blaine's eyes flutter closed as he ran his slender fingers over Blaine's torso. Pressing his lips below Blaine's ear, Kurt ran the tip of his tongue over the sensitive spot. "Turn over on your stomach," he growled.
"Mkay," Blaine answered sleepily, wriggling around underneath Kurt's body to accomplish Kurt's request. He shivered as the warmth of Kurt's body left for a moment, and he could hear the bottom drawer to his nightstand open and close before the bed dipped again.
Kurt pressed his knee between Blaine's thighs, letting his boyfriend know he needed some space to maneuver. "I love you, you know," Kurt said, placing a row of kisses straight down Blaine's spine.
"Mmmhmm," Blaine groaned, shifting his hips from left to right.
"I'm not the only horny teenager in this bed, I see," Kurt teased, picking up the lubricant and allowing it to drizzle over his hand and between Blaine's ass cheeks. Reaching around to stroke Blaine, Kurt leaned down to draw his teeth across the skin where Blaine's thigh curved to form his ass. At Blaine's loud whimper, Kurt turned his head and warned, "You do that and your mom is bound to come in here, Anderson. I don't need to explain to her what we're doing."
"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine breathed out, burying his face in his pillow. Overwhelmed by the sensations Kurt was eliciting coupled with the fear of his mother finding out that he'd snuck Kurt into his bedroom, drove Blaine to the edge.
Kurt surged forward, wrapping his arms around Blaine's chest and pulling him up. He slid easily between Blaine's cheeks, grinding against him at a rapid pace. "Oh, fuck, Hobbit," he grunted, "this is gonna be fucking messy."
Trying to find relief, Blaine wrapped his fingers around his cock, only to have Kurt pull his hand away. "Mine," he all but growled, taking Blaine back into his firm grip. Blaine found himself pushing back into Kurt, wanting this delicious feeling to continue forever but needing it to end right this very second.
Blaine felt himself spill over Kurt's hand and, moments later, heated warmth spread over his ass and back as Kurt's bit back his own whimpers.
When the ability to think returned, Kurt sunk down on the edge of the bed, pulling Blaine away from the messy wet spot on the sheets. Spooning behind his boyfriend, Kurt murmured in his ear, "I've missed you."
"Missed you more," Blaine managed before both of them fell asleep.
To: Satan'sMinion
Fr: Porcelain
the damn cat saved my ass this morning
To: Porcelain
Fr: Satan'sMinion
the fuck?
To: Satan'sMinion
Fr: Porcelain
fell asleep in Hobbit's bed last night
Knowing Santana would be too pissed to bother with typing on her phone, Kurt tapped his blue tooth before pulling away from his house on his way to school.
As always, she began mid-conversation. "What the fuck were you thinking, Hummel? His mom will prune your twig and berries without a second thought if she finds out and then where the hell will you and Hobbit be with you lacking a dick?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "There are strap-ons, Santana," he teased.
"Fuck, Kurt. There are lines. Even for us, there are lines we don't cross."
"Says the girl who excitedly dragged my skinny ass in front of an on-line sex shop so I could 'educate' myself," he replied with a laugh.
"Yeah, well, it's different when you're talking about my sweet innocent Hobbit."
"He's not so innocent," Kurt murmured. He heard Santana's heavy sigh.
"Don't fuck this up, Kurt. For a million reasons – including you're head over dick for this kid. He's good for you. He's in love with you. And if you piss his mom off, she will take him away. And then what? You and I both know as hot as you are, it's not pretty when you cry over a boy."
Chagrined, Kurt said softly, "I know."
"So what's the story with the cat?"
Pulling into a parking space, Kurt turned off the engine and climbed out, securing his duffel bag over his shoulder. Spotting Santana standing near the staircase, he disconnected and stalked towards her. "Woke up and felt a tongue in my ear," Kurt continued without missing a beat. "Only it wasn't Blaine's. Miss Mabel was on my pillow, giving me kisses. Sandpaper kisses. I think Blaine's grandfather let her on purpose. As a warning."
Santana's eyebrows arched as she shot Kurt a pointed look. "You need to keep your dick in your pants for a while. Going over to his house mid-week for a booty call? You're better than that." Grabbing his wrist, she dug her nails in enough to make sure she had his full attention. "Hobbit deserves better than that. Don't be that asshole, Hummel."
As her words sunk in, Kurt deflated. Biting his lip, he nodded. "You're right," he admitted softly.
"I know," she replied just as quietly.
It started with a scratchy throat.
Then, sometime mid-day, came the sneezing fit so bad, Kurt had to excuse himself from class – his economics teacher throwing a box of tissue his way before he reached the door.
He knew, without a doubt, he was in the beginning stages of a cold. The scratchy throat. The inability to focus. Headaches. Chills. By the time comp practice had finished, he nearly collapsed on the floor as fatigue swamped him.
Sam had taken one look at him and dragged Kurt's germ laden body out to the car, pushing him onto the back seat where Kurt groaned as the aches became more acute. He wasn't really aware of what was going on; his next semi-coherent moment had him shivering under a pile of blankets as someone – he thought it might have been Blaine – pulled a knit hat over his head and slipped wool socks on his ice cold feet.
"Here. Take these," came a soft voice, and two colored gel capsules were dropped into his hand. Then there was beautifully cool water that soothed the scratchy patch on the back of his throat – for a moment.
"Get some rest, Kurt."
It wasn't as if he had a choice. In the space of a heartbeat, sleep consumed him.
"You done peeling those potatoes?" Blaine asked, running a knife through an onion.
"Yeah," Sam replied, setting down the freshly peeled and washed potatoes next to Blaine's cutting board. "Okay then, are the chickpeas drained and rinsed?"
"Yup. Waiting in the sink."
"Okay, let me show you how to dice the potatoes and then you can do the rest."
It was Saturday afternoon, and Blaine and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder in the Hummel's kitchen making dinner as Burt and Finn watched football with Mr. Ladd. The budding chefs could hear the cheers of the other guys, so they knew the Buckeyes were doing well.
As soon as Sam finished dicing the potatoes, Blaine handed him the olive oil. "Three times around the soup pot," he said. "Then you're going to put the potatoes in and brown them up for about five minutes. After that, put the onions and garlic in and keep stirring it for another five minutes. If it starts burning or getting brown too early, turn down the heat."
Sam bit his lip as he concentrated on following Blaine's directions. "It's so cool that you can do this from memory."
Shrugging, Blaine grabbed the pot holders from the counter and checked on the bread baking in the oven. "I guess. I promise I'll write it all down so you can repeat this performance for your dinner tomorrow with Rose." Judging the loaves of whole wheat bread to be done, Blaine pulled them out, placing them on wooden trivets to cool.
Brushing up against Sam, Blaine glanced into the large soup pot. "Looks good, Sammy. Add the chicken broth and chick peas and bring it all up to a boil. Once it's at a boil, you'll add the pasta and cook for 10 minutes. Then after that, we'll add the spinach at the very end, 'cause it just needs to warm up. Then the soup's done."
While Sam finished the meal, Blaine washed the dishes they'd already used. "So what happens if Kurt's still sick next weekend?" he asked softly.
Sam turned and looked over his shoulder at Blaine. "He'll still perform. I know the doctor said he has bronchitis and all – but there's no way he'll skip. No way."
Blaine pursed his lips.
"What?"
After a moment, Blaine shook his head. "I'm just worried. He's so sick right now, and I just … a trophy isn't worth his health. It's not worth a trip to the hospital."
"Don't let him hear you say that," Sam teased, bumping Blaine with his hip. "This is seriously a lot of soup."
"And we're feeding Finn," Blaine retorted.
"True enough."
As if he knew they were speaking about him, Finn appeared in the doorway. "Dinner ready?" he asked hopefully.
"Fifteen minutes, Finn," Blaine answered over his shoulder as he ladled soup from another pot into a mug. "You okay here, Sam?"
Sam glanced at the work left to do. "I think so."
"I'm gonna take this down to Kurt and try to get him to eat something," Blaine said, grabbing two cold 7-Ups from the refrigerator and tucking them into the crook of his arm. Picking up the mug of soup, Blaine shouldered the door to the basement open and walked carefully down the stairs.
Propped up on what seemed to be seventeen pillows, Kurt looked to be asleep until a wracking cough overtook him. Curling up on himself, he tried to breathe in slowly and relax through the coughing spasm, but it didn't have much effect. He felt the bed dip, and then the coldness of someone's palm pressed against his forehead.
When he could breathe again, Kurt used the tissues that had been pressed into his hand to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. Rolling on to his back he offered a weak smile to Blaine. "This sucks so much," he managed to croak out.
Blaine shook his head and poured some of the lemon-lime flavored soda into a glass, holding it up to Kurt's lips. "You need to go back to the doctor, Babe."
Kurt swallowed the icy liquid, sighing at the relief it brought to his throat. "I'll be fine," he whispered between sips. "The antibiotics are helping. Although I still feel like I got hit by a truck."
Taking the glass from Kurt, Blaine set it on the nightstand and picked up the mug of soup. "I made you something to eat," he explained, holding a spoon up to Kurt's lips.
"I can feed myself, Blaine," Kurt rasped as he wrapped his lips around the spoon. Even with his body wreaked with sickness, he could still taste the amazing flavors. "What is this?" he moaned.
Blaine could feel his face heat at Kurt's noises. "It's cauliflower soup. My grandmother would make for me when I got sick." Blaine refused to give up the spoon, enjoying the intimacy of feeding Kurt. "I've been helping Sam cook. I made a bunch of stuff for the week, so your family doesn't need to worry about who is making dinner – and, you can rest."
"Rest is for the weak," Kurt murmured, reaching for his water bottle.
"No, the doctor said, rest for a week," Blaine stressed, wiping Kurt's damp bangs back from his forehead. Standing up, he walked to the bathroom and returned with two wet washcloths and a towel. "Shirt off."
Kurt's eyes widened.
"Geez, Hon. Not like that. Let me help you clean up a bit, okay?" Blaine helped Kurt tug his sweaty shirt off his back and began to wipe his body with the warm washcloths. "That should feel better."
Kurt cleared his throat several times, nodding.
"Vapo rub?" Blaine offered softly.
"No, thank you. It irritates my lungs and makes the coughing worse," Kurt explained fumbling for a throat lozenge.
Blaine took the towels and t-shirt, placing them in Kurt's laundry basket before coming back to Kurt's bed. "Do you need anything else?"
Kurt shook his head as his eyelids drooped with fatigue.
Blaine ducked down and brushed his lips against Kurt's. "Rest, love. Give a shout or text if you need anything."
By the time he'd reached the stairs, Kurt was snoring softly.
"Blaine? Blaine, it's Burt Hummel. I wanted you to hear this from me but you didn't pick up your phone. I'm sorry to leave this as a voicemail. We had to take Kurt to the emergency room last night. He's fine now. Finn went down to check on him before going to sleep and Kurt … well, he wasn't doing so well. The doctors say that the bronchitis turned into pneumonia and they've loaded him up with a more powerful antibiotic and some steroids to take down the swelling in his lungs. The point is, we'll be bringing him home tomorrow afternoon. If you want, come on over any time after five. And feel free to call me if you're worried. Which I know you are."
Thursday before competition was a minimum day bell schedule for teacher inservice. For most students, this gloriously meant leaving school at lunch time – eating out with friends, or wandering aimlessly around the mall. For the Cheerios, however, the extra two hours gained by shortening the academic day, just meant additional time to clean up their competition routine.
And while Kurt still wasn't back at school, all signs pointed towards his returning in time to perform at competition.
Coach Sylvester had looked over her competition squad shaking her head. "Ladies, if you don't know it by now, you're not going to get it," she called out through her megaphone. "Go home. I don't want to see your pathetic, angst-ridden, adolescent selves until Saturday morning. Call time is 9:00am – and that's performance ready, Ladies!"
Blaine nudged Sam with his elbow. "Does she realize that some of us don't have vaginas?"
Choking back his laughter, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Once again, you've assumed she's human and has a soul. It's a rookie mistake, Hobbit."
"Noted."
Most of the cheer squad stumbled over to the bleachers, thanking whatever deity had granted them reprieve from twelve more hours of cheer practice. They wandered off to catch up on schoolwork or sleep or the last five episodes of their favorite television show.
"So what now?" Rosemary asked, sliding over to sit in front of Sam and Blaine.
"Go home and sleep?" asked Blaine with a shrug.
The upperclassmen stared at Blaine as if he had answered in Swahili while sprouting wings.
"Um, no," Santana drawled. "Sleep is for the weak."
"I could sleep for a week," Blaine shot back.
Moving to stand next to Santana, Sage wrapped her arm around the Latina's waist. "I would like to go bowling," she said, resting her head on Santana's shoulder.
"Bowling? Really?" Santana growled. "Can you seriously see all of this," she paused, gesturing to herself, "in a bowling alley? In those shoes?"
"Come on, Satan. I really wanna go," Sage pouted.
Rolling her eyes, Santana sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll defer to the masses. Is everyone else up to a trip to the," she shuddered before uttering, "bowling alley."
"I can drive all of us," Sam offered.
"I thought you'd only gotten dispensation from Mr. Hummel to drive Kurt's Nav to and from school?" Santana commented.
"Um, no. Not exactly. He just doesn't want Finn driving. For obvious reasons. I mean, it's okay if we invite Finn and Puck, right? They should be done with football practice by now."
No one had any objections, so Sam quickly send off a text message, letting the guys know of their afternoon plans and to meet them in the student parking lot in thirty minutes.
As they moved towards the locker room, Blaine nudged Sam with his hip. "Can you drop me off at Kurt's? I think I'd like to hang with him instead of bowling."
Before Sam could reply, Santana spun and glared at Blaine. "Oh hell no. If my ass is going bowling, so is your sorry ass, Hobbit. You and Porcelain can get your freaky man-loving groove on some other time."
Blaine could feel a heated flush spread over his body as he frantically shook his head. "It's not like that, Santana. I mean, he's sick."
"We both know he's well enough to lie there while you sink his battleship," was her crude reply.
"Ugh, Satan," Sam groaned. "Did not need that image in my head."
They'd reached the Boys' locker room in time for Finn to overhear Sam's last comment. "What image?" he asked curiously.
"Your brother and Hobbit playing Where's Waldo?" Santana drawled before dragging Sage and Rosemary away from the boys.
"I loved those books as a kid," Finn replied excitedly.
At the bowling alley an argument was well on its way to breaking out as everyone tried to decide how to divide up in to two teams. Blaine offered to play as a neutral party, until Puck spotted Dave Karofsky and Nathan Wilkerson walk in to the otherwise empty establishment. "Dudes! Come play with us," he called out, waving the guys over.
Once they'd joined the cheerleaders, Dave rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Um, hey."
"Hi Dave," Blaine greeted with a smile. "Okay, so three teams of three. Finn, Puck and Sam can play together; Rosie, Sage and Santana can be a second team; and Dave and Nathan can play with me. Problem solved. Crisis averted. Let's go find our balls," he said smacking his hands together.
Nathan raised his eyebrows at the sophomore. "I know where my balls are, thank you very much," he replied dryly.
Huffing, Blaine spun around and faced Nathan, hands on his hips. "I know where mine are too.
"Are your balls eight, ten or twelve pounds?" Nathan teased. "Do your fingers prefer the larger holes or the smaller, tighter holes?"
Knowing he was probably bright red at Nathan's innuendos, Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose, walking off with the girls to find a proper bowling ball for the game.
"Dude," Finn called over, making sure he had Nathan's attention. "If you're making fun of Blaine for being gay with all those … things you were saying – that's not cool. He's my brother's boyfriend and my friend," he explained adamantly.
Holding out a placating hand, Nathan shook his head softly. "Finn, I wasn't making fun of Blaine's sexuality. Just teasing him. I'm gay. And Blaine knows it."
Finn looked baffled for a moment, before shaking his head to clear it. "Oh. Okay. I guess that's cool then."
"Even football players are occasionally gay, Finn," Nathan offered softly, standing up so he could go find his own bowling ball.
"Um, yeah. Of course," Finn replied distractedly. Once Nathan walked far enough away, Finn leaned over to Dave. "Did you know? About Coach … being like Kurt?"
Leaning his elbows against his knees, Dave stared down at the floor before glancing up at Finn and Puck. Pressing his lips together tightly, he seemed to be weighing something heavily. Finally, he shrugged a shoulder and asked, "If I asked you to keep something between us, I mean, not to tell anyone, could I trust you?"
Finn and Puck looked at each other and then back at Dave. "Yeah, of course," Finn replied for both of them.
"Yes, I've known about Nathan being gay for a while. Because … we've been, you know." At the last minute, Dave found it impossible to utter the words.
"Yeah, man, we're gonna need a bit more than that to go on," Puck said quietly.
Finn coughed into his fist. "Are you trying to say you … you're … into guys too?"
Swallowing hard, Dave nodded once.
"And Coach …" Finn didn't know how he wanted to finish the thought.
Dave risked a glance up at Finn and Puck, both of whom hadn't gone running from the room, or started yelling at him for being gay – two of the biggest fears Dave held about coming out to his friends and teammates. "We're together."
"Together – together?" asked Puck. "Like hand-holding, kissing, going out on dates, trying to get into his pants and make it past third base together?"
It took Dave a moment to process everything that Puck had thrown into his question before he finally blurted out a laugh. "Yeah, that kind of together. Except when we're on the football field. Then he's Coach and I'm Karofsky. Which is kinda weird, but not as bad as I thought it would be."
Running his hand through his closely cropped hair, Dave's expression turned more serious. "So, are we cool?"
Puck looked almost insulted that Dave had asked the questions. "Of course. I mean, less competition for the ladies for me, right?" He held out his fist for Dave to bump.
Chuckling, Dave nodded while bumping their fists together. "I suppose."
"Okay, but tell me one thing," Puck said, leaning in closer to Dave. "On a scale from one to ten, ten being the hottest – how attractive do you find me?"
"You're a nine, Puckerman," Santana answered in her bored tone, dropping a neon orange bowling ball in Puck's lap. "Nine out of ten. For the ladies or the gays. We took a vote while you were out of the room. Who's buying me nachos?"
"Already ordered and on their way, Satan," Sam called from the snack bar where he and Rosemary were waiting for their order of food and drinks for their crew.
"Okay then. Let's bowl."
When Puck bowled his seventh consecutive strike, an indignant Blaine accused him of being a ringer. This led to Puck's embarrassed confession to having been forced by his mother to participate in a Jewish bowling league throughout elementary school. "You don't understand – those kids were cut-throat. They could ruin you, your reputation and your credit score all at the same time."
It was at this point that Dave managed to knock over more than two pins with one throw. After celebrating with a fist pump and a small leap, Dave strutted back towards his chair accepting a high-five from Blaine. Nathan surprised him by grabbing his hand and tumbling him into the college student's lap. "You did great," he murmured before brushing his lips against the soft spot below Dave's ear.
They jerked apart when icy soda spilled over their heads and shoulders. Santana stood behind the two of them wearing an uncharacteristic flush of embarrassment. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she blurted.
Dave glared daggers at her as he stood up and shook the ice cubes that had gotten caught out of his shirt and hair. "The last person that I'd thought would have a problem with this," he gestured between himself and Nathan, "would be you, Lopez."
Tugging away from Nathan's touch, Dave stomped off towards the bathroom, leaving the others speechless at what had happened.
Finally, Santana seemed to find her voice. "Nathan, I didn't mean to. I was just surprised and, I swear, I lost my grip on the cup. But it was an accident."
It was readily apparent to everyone there that Santana was being completely honest, especially given she'd gone three shades lighter than her normal olive complexion.
Nathan stayed quiet for several moments before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I need to check on Dave. I'll make sure he gives you a chance to explain, Santana. It's just … the idea of coming out has been really difficult for him. And after his mom flipped out on him, he's been petrified to let his friends know – although, the way I figure it, if you have a problem with him being gay, you aren't really his friends to begin with. I think he just jumped to the wrong conclusion."
After Nathan walked away, Santana slumped in a chair, pulling her legs up to wrap her arms around them. Rose and Sage had already cleaned up the spilled soda and ice from the chairs and floor, and the guys were continuing with the game in an attempt to provide some sort of normalcy.
Sage sat down, resting her arm around Santana's shoulders and her closer. "We know it was an accident, Santana. Give him a minute to clean up and for Nathan to explain things. Then you can apologize. Dave just wants our support – and you need to make sure that he knows he has it."
Although she kept her face buried in her arms, Santana nodded. Finally she looked up at Sage. "Thanks."
"Welcome."
Leaning in, Santana kissed Sage softly for several moments before pulling away. Winking, she stood up and after clearing her throat, said, "I'm gonna go find Dave. Not the first time I've walked into the men's room. Probably won't be the last."
Caught up in her thoughts, Santana pushed her way into the men's room only to have her arm grabbed as she was spun around and thrown violently into the tiled wall.
"What the fuck were you doing with my sister?"
Santana's eyes widened as twenty year old Logan Gartin stood beet red, screaming in her face. "Get off me, you ass," she managed to croak out, trying to pull air into her lungs.
Suddenly Logan was ripped away from her as Nathan Wilkerson placed himself between Sage's brother and Santana. "Back off, Gartin," Nathan snarled.
"Fuck you, Wilkerson. That bitch was … it doesn't matter. You better stay the hell away from my sister or you'll find out what happens." Logan shoved past Nathan to exit the bathroom, as Dave moved closer to Santana.
"Lopez?" Dave said softly before she came tumbling into his arms. "Shhh. It's gonna be okay." He held her tightly as she cried into his shirt. She'd already soaked him with soda, what was a little more wetness among friends? Rubbing her back, Dave murmured quietly to her as he jerked his chin towards the door. Nathan nodded once and left the two of them to go check on the others.
It was a good thing he did.
He immediately spotted Logan Gartin, who marched up to Sage and yanked her out of her chair by her arm and slapped her. Nathan broke into a run, but by the time he reached the others, vaulting over the railing, Puck and Finn were working on wrestling Sam away from Logan, who was writhing in pain on the floor, nose broken from the punch Sam had responded with.
"You don't ever, EVER, hit a girl, you fuck," shouted Sam as Finn kept him from throwing a second punch.
"She's my sister, you ass. I can do what I want," Logan growled, pushing up on an elbow and glaring first at Sam and then at Sage. "How the hell do you think Mom and Dad are going to react when they find out you were kissing that bitch?"
"Get some ice," Rosemary ordered at Blaine, pushing her twin into a chair. She spun on her heel and kicked her brother's ankle. "Logan Michael Gartin, what the hell has gotten in to you? Do you really, in your ugly thick skull, think for one millisecond that Mom and Dad are going to thank you for hitting Sage? Because she's gay, it makes it okay? Who the fuck are you?"
It was an odd moment as everyone seemed to freeze in place and stare at Rosemary – the girl who never yelled, lost control, or cursed at people.
When the bowling manager came over with Blaine and ordered everyone out, no one felt like arguing the point. Rosemary took the ice pack from the manager and applied it gently to her sister's face as they gathered up their things.
"We have two more friends in the bathroom," Rosemary said to the manager with a small smile. "Would you mind terribly if Blaine there," she nodded at the curly-haired boy, "went to let them know to meet us outside?"
The manager seemed only too happy to agree if it meant the fighting teenagers left his bowling alley more quickly. Blaine grabbed the jackets that Dave and Santana came in wearing and left to find their missing friends.
Santana was rinsing off her face when Blaine walked into the bathroom. "Hey, Hobbit. No, we didn't fall in, and we're not running off to Disneyland," she teased, although it wasn't quite there.
"Yeah, that's not why I'm here. We're going," Blaine shrugged, offering the jackets to his friends.
Sensing something more in Blaine's tone, Dave raised his eyebrows. "What's up?"
"Um, the highlights included Logan slapping Sage," Blaine began.
"What?" interrupted Santana, "I'll kill him."
"No, you won't. I don't help friends move bodies," he continued without missing a beat, "Sam punched Logan, and I'm pretty sure it broke his nose, and maybe, if we're lucky, his jaw. Finn and Puck grabbed Sam, Rosie cussed out her brother, and the manager asked us to leave. I think we're banned for life from the bowling alley, which I'm sure just breaks your heart, Santana."
Zipping up her Cheerio jacket, she tilted her head, "Hey, I was duly considering a professional career there in bowling for like 0.2 seconds. Not."
"Well, I'm going to add it to my bucket list, just so I can cross it off," Blaine said with a grin.
"What's that exactly?" asked Dave, holding the door for both of them.
"Being banned from an establishment for being involved in a rumble. Not that I was really involved, but I was there. And I am part of the banned posse. So it counts in my book."
"Yeah, okay," Dave mumbled, wrapping a protective arm around both of his friends as they walked past a group of young men that were probably friends with Logan Gartin.
As they joined their friends in the parking lot, Rosemary was speaking frantically into her phone, stopping as she saw Santana. "Santana, please call my sister and see if she'll answer for you," she pleaded before going back to her original phone call.
Blaine pushed between Finn and Puck, whispering, "What's going on?"
Puck looked down, clearly upset. "Their brother said some more bullshit when we came out here, and Sage took off running. Rose went after her, but couldn't keep up. Now she's not answering her phone and Rose is worried."
"And where's Logan?" Blaine asked.
"After Rosemary attempted to score a field goal with his balls, we escorted him to his car. I'm sure he'll get out of the trunk eventually," Puck replied blithely.
Nathan placed a hand on Finn's shoulder, squeezing softly. "Look guys, I don't want to leave you all here, but if Gartin's buddies find me out here, it may only escalate things. I'm gonna take Dave home. You should find somewhere else to be right now, understand?"
Puck nodded. "Yeah. Got it."
Sliding his hand into Nathan's, Dave asked Blaine, "Call us, please, when you find Sage."
"You got it."
When Sam tried to get Rosemary to climb into the Navigator she refused. "No, Sam. I'm not leaving my sister," she insisted adamantly.
"Rosie, she's not coming back here. Think about it. We'll find her, I promise. But staying here, when your brother's buddies are inside and he's out here, just isn't safe, sweetheart. Let me take you home or to the Hummels and we'll come up with a plan to get Sage home safe, okay?" Sam pulled her slowly into his embrace, wishing dearly there was someone else he could hand the keys to so he could keep his girlfriend wrapped tight in the safety of his arms.
Sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, facing Kurt, Blaine shared what had happened at the bowling alley. "She's not answering her phone and no one knows where she went. I'm worried," he explained softly.
Reaching out, Kurt ruffled Blaine's curls with affection. "She'll be okay, Blaine. When she's ready, she'll reach out to one of us. Her parents are pretty awesome people. I wouldn't want to be Logan when Rosemary tells them how he acted."
Blaine chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. "I'm still worried."
"And that's why you're such a good friend. Good person. Good man," Kurt's fingers brushed through Blaine's hair, drawling a small moan of pleasure from the younger man. "Doc gave me clearance to compete on Saturday. Says I'll probably get tired more easily and should watch out for more coughing spasms. But, the x-rays they took of my lungs don't show the gunk in them anymore."
"I'm glad," Blaine said with a small smile, resting his chin on his arms. "You had me so worried."
"Anyone tell you you're a bit of a worrier?" Kurt asked with a chuckle.
"My mom. My grandmother. Papa. My sixth grade teacher. Yeah, a few people." Blaine's grin widened as he answered. "I only worry because I care, you know."
"I know." Kurt held out his hand to Blaine, interlacing their fingers. "So, back to what I was saying earlier," he paused significantly. "I've been cleared for physical activity."
Blaine nodded.
"Physical activity," he drawled, tugging on Blaine's hand until his boyfriend lay sprawled across his chest.
"Oh," Blaine gasped as understanding flooded him. Pulling his phone out of the pocket to his jeans, Blaine's fingers flew as he typed out a message. "Just letting Finn and Sam know we're playing Where's Waldo? and to let us know if your parents are about to interrupt." Tossing his phone on the night stand, Blaine immediately moved to unbuckle his belt.
"Anxious much?" Kurt laughed.
"Like you aren't?" Blaine shot right back.
Kurt shuffled out of his sweatpants and yanked off his t-shirt, tossing both unceremoniously on the floor. "What the hell is Where's Waldo?"
Blaine pulled the blanket over their scantily clad bodies, melting into Kurt's embrace. "Something Santana said. Do you really need an explanation beyond that? Because I'd much rather do this" he murmured against Kurt's collarbone, nipping along its length as his fingers gripped Kurt's hips.
"I'd much rather you do me, too," Kurt answered breathily.
"Lube." Blaine demanded, slowly kissing his way down Kurt's chest. It was clear from the prominence of his ribs that Kurt had lost weight over the last week due to his illness. Blaine brushed his lips over each one then moved on to tonguing the grooves of Kurt's abdominal muscles.
"Oh, shit, Hobbit," Kurt gasped, arching into Blaine's touch.
Blaine fumbled for the bottle of lube Kurt had dropped on the bed, carefully moistening a finger. "Kurt?"
"Fuck. Yes, please." Kurt groaned.
"Sshh," Blaine cautioned. "You keep moaning like that and your dad is sure to come investigate and we'll both be fucked then." Swallowing down the nerves, Blaine moved his hand lower until his finger was circling Kurt's entrance.
"Mmm. Feels good, B. Just like that but a little more pressure," Kurt instructed, eyes shut tight as the sensations overwhelmed him.
Blaine watched Kurt writhe under him as he continued circling his finger gently. Then Kurt's hand took his and showed Blaine exactly what he wanted.
"Dammit, Hobbit," Kurt hissed, as Blaine breached him slowly with a finger. "Don't stop. Please don't stop. Just … feel free to use your mouth to distract me."
Unable to help himself, Blaine dissolved into giggles.
"Okay, what exactly is so fucking funny?" Kurt snapped, eyes narrowing to glare at Blaine.
Laying his head on Kurt's stomach, Blaine smiled softly. "This. Is. So. Weird. It's hot. And I don't wanna stop. But I'm in bed with my boyfriend, finger up his ass, him begging me to suck his cock, with his parents about, oh, ten feet away upstairs. If you'd asked me in June what I'd be doing right before my birthday – well, I certainly wouldn't have said the head cheerleader."
"You're such a dork," Kurt muttered, wiping his eyes with his hands.
"You like that I'm a dork," Blaine teased, swiping the head of Kurt's cock with his tongue.
"I like that you're a dork with an amazing mouth that's gonna be wrapped around my cock in fifteen seconds," Kurt shot back. Sitting up a bit, Kurt gripped Blaine's hair, tugging him gently towards his cock.
"Hello there, Waldo," Blaine spoke softly to Kurt's cock. "Looks like I found you."
Kurt's comment about Blaine being an even bigger dork than he'd originally thought was cut off as Blaine took him deep into his mouth. Between the wet suction and Blaine's thrusting finger, Kurt couldn't stave off his orgasm one more moment.
He'd barely caught his breath, when his cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. "Shit," he gasped. Grab your clothes and go change in my bathroom." Leaning over, he grabbed his t-shirt off the ground and pulled it on, frantically arranging the sheets around his lower body as his father descended the stairs.
"Blaine getting decent?" Burt asked, head cocked to the side as he took in Kurt's appearance.
"Dad."
"Don't 'Dad' me," Burt remarked. Walking closer to the bed, he picked up Kurt's underwear and sweatpants, tossing them at his son's head. Raising his voice, he called out towards the bathroom door, "You two aren't fooling anyone. Olivia called. It's time for Blaine to head home. Night, Blaine!"
"Night, Burt," came Blaine's muffled reply.
"You." Burt pointed at Kurt. "Behave. Get some rest."
"Yes, Dad."
When Kurt was sure his father had returned to his evening spot in his recliner in front of the television, he got up and padded over to the bathroom door, knocking softly. As soon as he heard the snick of the lock being released, he pushed the door open to find Blaine mostly dressed. "I'm not letting you go home before we finish things, Hobbit."
Stalking towards his boyfriend, Kurt pressed himself behind Blaine as they looked at each other in the mirror. "Take it out."
"Kurt," Blaine began to protest.
"Who's head cheerleader?" Kurt asked firmly.
"You are," Blaine replied automatically.
"Take it out for me, Anderson."
"Yes, Captain."
Kurt's eyes grew darker as Blaine unbuckled his pants, tugging them back down around his hips. "Let me take care of you. Watch in the mirror, Blaine," Kurt murmured as he took hold of Blaine's cock. "Gotta stay quiet, baby, so we don't get caught."
Blaine twisted his head towards Kurt's lips. "Kiss me."
"Watch."
"Kiss me, please."
"Blaine. Watch yourself."
"Kurt, please kiss me."
As soon as Kurt's lips brushed his, Blaine shattered into a million pieces.
Shouldering his backpack and duffle bag, Blaine waved at Sam as the blond drove off. Blaine had insisted that he didn't mind walking home from the Hummels', but just as adamantly Sam insisted on taking Blaine home. "It's the very least I can do considering you made us a week's worth of meals because Kurt's been down for the count," he explained on the way over.
Walking up the cement pathway, he startled when he realized that Sage Gartin was sitting, shivering, at the table where his grandfather had his morning coffee. Her jeans and Henley pullover weren't much protection from the cold evening air. Feet pulled up under her, she was slowly petting Miss Mabel, who'd taken up residence in the next chair over.
Blaine let out a breath. "Thank god you're okay," he said in a rush.
Sage looked up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Not really," she answered softly, tucking her blonde hair behind an ear.
Dropping his bags against the front door with a loud thud, Blaine waved at Miss Mabel to give up her chair so he could sit next to his friend. Miss Mabel stared back, pretending not to understand.
The battle of wills between the sophomore and the cat went on for several long moments before Sage snorted. "Something tells me you're not gonna win this one, Blaine."
Sighing, he picked up Mabel who nipped him on the wrist. "Ouch. Dammit, Mabel. See if you get any treats from me this week," he sputtered, dropping the well-loved cat unceremoniously on to the table top.
Sitting down, he immediately took Sage's hand in his own. "How long have you been out here? You must be freezing? Do you want to come inside?" he asked.
"Later," she said, shaking her head. "Right now I just needed somewhere I felt safe."
Blaine nodded. "I get that. Like, really. I get that."
Sage shrugged. "I know. It's why I came here. I sent Rose a text telling her I'm safe and to let our parents know I'm okay. But if it's all the same to you, I don't really want my family to know where I am for the night. Not until I figure some things out."
"Okay." Blaine tilted his head, studying his friend. "You gonna spend the night here? You're welcome to stay. I don't mind sharing my bed."
Despite her sadness, Sage couldn't fight the smile that came out at those words. "You do realize that at least a third of the squad would gnaw off their right arm for an opportunity to spend the night in your bed."
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Right."
"I'm serious. You haven't heard the talk in the girls' locker room. And I have it on fairly good authority that a couple of the guys have crushes on our curly-haired hobbit." Sage's eyes sparkled with laughter as Blaine turned pink. "Yup. It's a good thing Kurt snatched you up when he did, 'cause he'd have some pretty serious competition right now if he hadn't."
Rubbing his eyebrow nervously, Blaine stare out into the evening. "I still have a hard time believing anyone would be interested in me," he admitted softly.
"Well, they are. You're amazing, Blaine. That's why they are," Sage said plainly.
After a few minutes of silence, Blaine asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"
Sage shook her head.
"Okay. I'm here when you're ready to."
"Thanks, B."
"Anytime."
From: BDAnderson
To: SLopez
ur girlfriend is spending the night w/ me.
From: Satan'sMinion
To:Hummel'sHobbit
did u forget I accessorize w/ razor blades.
From: Satan'sMinion
To: Hummel'sHobbit
In. My. Hair.
From: BDAnderson
To: SLopez
Sage says "calm your tits."
From:BDAnderson
To: SLopez
wanted u to know she's safe.
From: Satan'sMinion
To: Hummel'sHobbit
thx. kiss her goodnite 4 me.
From: Satan'sMinion
To: Hummel'sHobbit
bonus pts if u use tongue.
From: Satan'sMinion
To: Hummel'sHobbit
damn. now i'm hot&bothered
From: BDAnderson
To: SLopez
there's something seriously wrong w/ u
From: BDAnderson
To: SLopez
as a friend. w/ luv in my heart.
From: BDAnderson
To: SLopez
get help
EndNote: On a positive note, I'm more than half-way done with the next chapter, which feature their first cheer competition and Blaine's birthday smut session. Can you guess which portion is already written? Thank you for taking the time to read this installment. Happy Spring!