Kurt hadn't talked to Blaine since the previous afternoon, when everything had kind of exploded, but Charlie had helped to calm him down. Still, he knew Blaine was angry with him, and after having a quick text conversation with a positively sloshed Rachel, supervised by Charlie so he wouldn't go nuts on her (as Charlie put it), he knew their date was tonight. Hopefully, the date would be horrible, Blaine would realize that he was being silly, and this whole thing would blow over without them ever having to talk about it. They didn't have rehearsal again until Friday, and Kurt didn't actually have to interact with Blaine during classes, so everything was going to be okay.
Kurt was sitting on his bed, convincing himself of all of these things, when his phone rang, making him jump about a foot and making Chris laugh. Kurt glared at his roommate before picking up the phone, not bothering to check the Caller ID because he was positive it wasn't Blaine, looking to correct his mistakes and make up. "Hello?"
"Hey, there, bud. How's Dalton?"
"Hey, Dad," Kurt said with a smile, because yes, his relationship with his dad was still rough around the edges, but no one knew better than his father when he needed to be cheered up. Except maybe Charlie, who seemed to have a sixth sense for his misery. "Dalton's fine."
"How was Rachel's party?" his father asked casually, and whenever a parent asked something casually, there was trouble brewing. Burt hadn't said a word about finding Blaine in Kurt's bed, but he knew it was coming.
"It was a party thrown by Rachel Berry," he insisted, and his father chuckled, accustomed to Rachel's unique personality since she had been over at the house so much during her relationship with Finn, and now because Kurt was tolerating her. "It was terrible, but it was harmless." That wouldn't be exactly how most parents would describe a party with so much alcohol, but Burt didn't have to know about that. He probably wouldn't believe it anyway, since he knew Rachel.
"Glad to hear it. Listen, I think Finn's having some Rachel or Quinn troubles, and I would appreciate it if you could stop home soon and talk to him. I can't understand what he sees in those girls, I really can't. Besides, you never taught me about brunch."
"Dad, it's really hard to get out mid-week." Since the commute was four hours, round trip.
"Come on, kid, you promised you'd teach me. I feel bad making Carole do all the cooking. Plus, I haven't seen you in a month, and I didn't let you board at that damn school so you could escape your home." His father was excellent at guilt-trip-ing without making it sound like that was the maneuver he was using, and Kurt sighed.
"I don't have rehearsal tomorrow, so I'll try to get down after school," Kurt promised his father.
"All right, kiddo, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't you have class now or something?"
"I should probably go down to breakfast," Kurt admitted, checking the clock and realizing it was the first morning at Dalton where he couldn't count on Blaine to get him some food if he was late, which made him sigh.
"You sure everything's all right at Dalton? None of those boys giving you trouble?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Kurt insisted. "I have to go, or I won't get food."
"All right, kid, I'll see you."
"I love you, Dad," Kurt said, spur of the moment, because his dad didn't show much affection except when Kurt needed it. Since his whole life at Dalton seemed to revolve around Blaine, and his best friend was terrifically angry at him, he needed it.
"Love you, too, kid," Burt said in reply, but he sounded wary. "Bye."
"Bye," Kurt said, hanging up, and he jumped about a foot when Chris sat next to him on his bed.
"What did he do now?"
"Why do you always assume he did something?"
"Because he always does, the idiot." Kurt sighed, and started to tell his roommate the story.
"Hey, Charlie," Blaine said causally as he sat down in first period, taking the empty seat next to his best friend and ignoring the looks from the rest of the classroom. Charlie wasn't actually in his chemistry class, but the likelihood of him leaving was slim to none. "What's up?"
"I…" Charlie was just staring at the wooden desk he was sitting in, not having reacted as Blaine entered the room, and he looked kind of shell-shocked. True to form, his brown hair had medium blue tips, and he clearly was not fine.
"Something wrong?" Blaine asked, knowing the answer. There was a slight possibility that Charlie had decided to come to his class before he had been a complete and total asshole to Kurt yesterday, but that clearly wasn't what he wanted to talk about. For the record, Kurt had been pretty terrible, too. Blaine was counting his lucky starts that they didn't have rehearsal until Friday.
"I think Lucas and I broke up." Charlie sounded like he couldn't believe his own words.
"What happened?" Blaine asked, only a little bit shocked. Charlie was silent for too long, Mr. Weatherbie entering the room and starting to write notes on the board without addressing his students. Blaine jotted them down, sneaking glances at the boy sitting next to him out of the corner of his eye. "Charlie?" he asked him.
"I… I can't believe he broke up with me." That explained the hair, then. Anytime Charlie was going through some dramatic emotional revelation, his hair color changed. It was one sure-fire way to measure his best friend's emotions.
"Are you okay?"
Charlie turned towards him and glared. "Do I seem okay to you, dumb-dumb?" he asked, raising his voice enough that other people in the class looked over. Mr. Weatherbie didn't react as he started putting some formulas down on the board.
At least the stupid question had made Charlie act like himself.
"No, but until you tell me what happened, there's no way I can make you feel better," Blaine pointed out, and Charlie sighed.
"I... we had been arguing lately. About Kurt."
"I noticed," Blaine said, semi-dryly. Everyone had seen Charlie explode at Lucas in the cafeteria only two days ago, and Blaine was sure this news of the conversation they were having would also circle quickly around the school. Charlie wasn't exactly being quiet, not too big on privacy as a human being.
"I didn't think he would..." Charlie appeared to still be in the phase of breaking up where he was processing the 'why.' "Do you think he really still has feelings for Kurt?"
"Really? That's what you're going with?" Blaine asked, looking away from his notes to raise an eyebrow in Charlie's direction. Perhaps it wasn't the most sympathetic thing to say, but that was the crap Charlie had been spouting for the last week and a half, mostly directed towards him instead of his actual boyfriend, which was another problem.
"Well, why else?"
"Maybe because you went a pinch crazier than normal and yelled at him in the cafeteria because he wasn't paying enough attention to you?" Blaine asked, and Charlie shook his head.
"No, it couldn't have been that," he said absently, obviously still contemplating.
"I really think it was that."
"I really don't think so." Charlie was glaring again.
"What else could it possibly have been then? Charlie, Lucas loves you."
"Actually..." Charlie fidgeted in his chair, something Blaine only noticed because he had once again looked down to take notes, remembering for a brief moment that he was in class, and when Mr. Weatherbie filled up the board, he would erase it all and start again.
"What?" he asked Charlie eventually, because the crazy boy was still squirming.
"He never said that, at least... not in so many words. Or any words really. Ever." Blaine's brain was trying to do the math, but it wasn't computing. Not the chemistry, Charlie.
"You told him you loved him... I can't even remember how long it's been since you told him you loved him."
"I know." Charlie was looking down at his hands.
"Is that what this is about?"
"What what is about?"
"Your break-up."
"He broke up with me."
"He broke up with you because you flipped your shit about something. Is that what it was? That he hadn't told you he loved you?"
"I didn't flip my proverbial shit about anything."
"Charlie, you yelled at him for including Kurt in your conversation, knowing that Kurt never returned his feelings and Lucas is over Kurt." At least, that was the story Kurt told, and Blaine was sure Lucas would back it up. Plus, Lucas paid no more attention to Kurt than to anyone else. At least, not any that wasn't justified by their hodgepodge of McKinley friends and mutual interest in cheerleading, a sport no one else was really interested in unless it involved girls.
"So he says."
"Charlie," Blaine said firmly, glad to finally have the chance to tough-love Charlie the way his best friend had been doing to him for years. "Lucas loves you, no matter what you think, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move past whatever craziness this is."
"I'm not crazy," Charlie snapped, and Blaine almost laughed before he realized Charlie was being completely serious. "I just… I guess I've never been in a relationship where I'm the one more vested. It sucks." Blaine chuckled, earning himself a glare, and then took advantage of the few seconds he had while Mr. Weatherbie was erasing the board to give Charlie a sideways hug. His friend shoved him off with a pout.
"Charlie, do you love him?"
"Of course I do," Charlie snapped, having been born without patience.
"Then why do you find it so hard to believe that he loves you in return?" Blaine asked, trying to stay calm.
"Well, you love Kurt and you're convinced he doesn't feel the same way, so why don't you answer that question?" Charlie sat next to him on the bed, no longer looking vulnerable. "Yes, let's talk about that. What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" Blaine mirrored Charlie's earlier words, still harboring the slim hope that Charlie didn't know about their argument. This hope faded as Charlie glared at him, clenching his fists more out of reflex than out of menace.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Blaine Devon Anderson." It was always worrying when someone pulled out the middle name. "How dare you compare him to the Neanderthal who has been traumatizing him for years?" Charlie asked angrily, putting no effort into keeping his voice down, and Blaine could tell by his word choice that he'd discussed the incident with Kurt.
"Charlie, I don't want to talk about it," Blaine said in what he hoped was a pacifying tone.
"Blaine," Charlie began in a mockery of his tone, "I don't care," he yelled suddenly. "I really don't!"
"Mr. Shields, Mr. Anderson, would you like to take this conversation out into the hall?" Mr. Weatherbie asked calmly, still writing. "I allow conversation in my class because I know taking notes is tedious, but I do require a measure of respect." The teacher didn't comment at all on the fact that Charlie wasn't in the class; most didn't.
"No, thank you. I apologize, Mr. Weatherbie, Charlie won't raise his voice again."
"Don't try to control me like you do Kurt," Charlie mumbled, but he was at least being quiet.
"Don't you at least want to hear my side of the story?" Blaine asked him, returning to their conversation in a whisper. There had been a time when Charlie would side with Blaine immediately. Apparently, that time was over, and Charlie had already made up his mind.
"I know your side," Charlie said, going scarily calm. "You suggested to him that you might be bisexual, a completely ridiculous notion, might I add, because without alcohol you've never shown the slightest interest in girls. He laughed, as I would have, and you accused him of being biphobic, at which point you compared him to the Philistine who's been torturing for years, and then left with some snide comment about homonyms." Charlie had no regard for his own privacy, but Blaine could feel judgmental eyes from all corners of the room, and did they really have to have this conversation now?
"He was acting biphobic," Blaine argued, but he knew there was no way Charlie was going to care what he had to say. The crazy idiot had already made up his mind.
"Why do you care?" Charlie said, still maintaining his calm façade. "You're not bi."
"How do you know that?" Blaine replied, feeling like he and Charlie were about to have the same conversation he and Kurt had, and this one would end about as well.
"Because I know you," Charlie replied, "and you haven't shown the slightest interest in girls while sober, even when girls show interest in you. You always say 'wrong team,' and it's the one thing you've always been right about."
"Charlie, must we discuss this right now?"
"Kurt's just mad because you've been rejecting his advances for the past few months and now you're going on a date with his female best friend. That's gotta hurt a little."
"I haven't been rejecting-" Blaine started to object when he heard snickering from other members of the class. Were they all focusing on his conversation with Charlie?
"See, even the peanut gallery agrees with me. I know you have all sorts of bullying issues, and I have sympathy, I really do, but Kurt's not a bully. Kurt's your friend, hopefully eventually your much-more-than-friend, whom you've been hurting unintentionally for weeks. So, yes, you're the one being the asshole here." Charlie cursed loud enough for the teacher to hear, but Blaine could have sworn he saw Mr. Weatherbie's frame shaking like he was laughing. Did the whole school follow his relationship with Kurt? "For the intentions of informing the peanut gallery, Kurt has openly admitted that he has feelings for Blaine."
"Charlie!" Blaine objected, because that really wasn't information other people needed to know.
"We all knew that anyway, dude," Joe said from Blaine's other side, which provided Charlie with endless amusement.
"So go on however many dates you want with this Rachel chick. Fuck her, for all I care, but you're not in the right here, and I hope you know that." Blaine had stopped being shocked by Charlie's language a long time ago.
"It's not like Kurt hasn't experimented with a girl before," he hissed, but judging by the shockwave through the room and the fact that Mr. Weatherbie stopped writing briefly, he was overheard.
"You're really just digging your own grave here. Kurt's gonna be so mad," Charlie said, sounding a little bit amused, "and that doesn't count. He wasn't doing it because he misguidedly thought he was straight." Why would Kurt be mad at him (besides the argument)? Charlie was the one 'informing the peanut gallery.'
"Look, Charlie, I didn't ask for your opinion, okay?" Blaine snapped, so tired of being judged for the fact that he and Rachel were going on a date. "Why don't you worry about your own love life, all right?"
"This affects my love life," Charlie began, and Blaine knew this was going to be some masterful deflection worthy of Kurt's skill. "If you finally man up, grow some cojones and start dating Kurt, Lucas will get over him and then I won't have my problem anymore."
Blaine stopped writing notes, just putting his head against the desk and groaning. "I hate you."
"I know you do," Charlie replied as he walked out of the class. Mr. Weatherbie didn't stop writing.
Even though he had class with Kurt, Blaine hadn't seen him all day, though he had a feeling the two, separate protective rings of hockey players around one desk in both religion and physics had something to do with that, and he probably had Griffin to blame for the phenomena. One of the great things about going to a school as selective at Dalton was that taking an AP class didn't immediately distance Blaine from the athletes, because they were smart as well as strong and fast. At the time, Blaine had mixed feelings on the topic. At least Kurt hadn't come up to him furious about the rumors flying around the school, most of which were true.
Blaine had no idea if Charlie had actually gone to his own classes that day, but he was trying on outfits for his date with Rachel in the early afternoon when the idiot reappeared. "You look awful," he said casually as he walked into Blaine's room, and Blaine could have sworn he had locked it. Did Charlie have his other dorm key? How the hell had he managed that?
"Thanks, Charlie."
"On the bright side, you could just wear the same outfit you wore on your first date with Kurt. That looked nice, and you really couldn't twist the knife any deeper."
"I've never been on a date with Kurt," Blaine countered calmly as he browsed through the small portion of his closet dedicated to normal clothes, "but that's actually not a bad idea."
"I hate you."
"I hate you, too, but at least I reciprocate," Blaine replied before he could stop himself.
Charlie sat down on the unused bad, and Blaine could see his pout in the mirror. "Too mean."
"I'm sorry," Blaine said, because Charlie was right, that one had been too mean.
"I can't believe you're going on this date."
"I can't believe you're not a little more open-minded."
"I'm incredibly open-minded! Ask Lucas," Charlie added with a wink. Blaine didn't make another comment about his relationship, which the tenor was willing to bet wasn't entirely over. "I just… I know you're one of those guys who try to fake it," he said with a shrug.
"What do you mean by that?" Blaine asked warily, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Oh, come on. You know what that means. Guy guys who try to act super straight and masculine and never date so that they'll fit in, but are still out. It's pretty much the recipe for making people forget you're gay. You are so one of those guys." Blaine huffed, holding up the outfit he had worn when he took Kurt to RENT (he assumed that's what Charlie meant by 'first date,' because he had been wearing his Dalton uniform the first day they met). It really did look good, but it also looked guilty in a way clothing really shouldn't be able to.
"I am not!" he argued. "Everyone knows I'm gay, and I admit to liking not-so-straight stuff."
"Only around me and Kurtsie and other welcoming homos," Charlie pointed out, and Blaine wasn't thinking too hard on what Charlie was saying.
"Are you trying to suggest that my date with Rachel is an extension of me being perpetually single and out? Because that doesn't make a lot of sense."
"Not when you put it like that," Charlie complained.
"Charlie, we've been friends with years. I know I've hurt Kurt, and I need to talk to him, but couldn't you just be on my side for a few minutes? I'm nervous enough." Charlie sighed, but stood up.
"Fine. Number one, you're terrible at picking out date clothes. Move out of the way." Blaine obliged only because Charlie had been the one who came up with the RENT outfit in the first place. Charlie picked things out of his closet rapidly, a gray D&G cardigan with shawl collar, a white, short-sleeved button-down, a Burberry red-striped pullover, tight, sand-colored chinos, a black leather belt, black boat shoes, and a black and silver watch. "And if you must wear a bow tie…" Charlie crossed to his dresser and pulled out a plain black bow tie, "don't overdo it."
"Sometimes I forget that you're a genius," Blaine said reverently, because it really was perfect. It was casual enough that Rachel wouldn't think he was trying to impress her (though he was), yet nice enough that she would be impressed anyway. Besides, he wasn't too too worried about his outfit, considering he wouldn't be wearing it for very long.
"Get dressed," Charlie said, returning to his lounge spot.
"Charlie, are you even going to pretend you're not watching?"
"I will close my eyes for one minute. You control what I see." Charlie closed his eyes at the end of his statement, and Blaine hurried to get dressed while he wasn't looking. He was pulling on the pullover when Charlie opened his eyes.
"You don't have to be worried, you know."
"Technically, this is my first date," Blaine said as he put on his bow tie. "Don't I have a right to be nervous?"
"You need to stop it with all this 'technically' crap. You've been on plenty of dates with Kurt." Kurt wasn't who he had been referring to, but Blaine let it go.
Once Blaine was dressed, he grabbed his keys and thew his bag over his shoulder. He had almost left the room when the thought occurred to him. "What was number two?"
"Pardon?" Charlie asked, but Blaine could tell he was fighting off a grin.
"You said number one earlier, talking about my clothes. What's number two?"
"Number two," Charlie said, surprisingly not torturing him with suspense, "the date's going to be fine," Charlie said softly.
"Thank you, Charlie."
"Number three, you are an idiot."
"I should have expected that."
Clearly Rachel had been worried about toeing the line between trying too hard and not trying hard enough in her wardrobe as well, judging by the fact that Blaine noticed her change sweaters between the time he arrived at the door and the time they left the house. Rachel's fathers had been receptive and charming, not scaring him at all, and Rachel had kissed them both quickly on the cheek as she left.
Anyway, Rachel looked beautiful in a short, neutral dress with enough ruffles to make it distinctly Rachel, dark blue cardigan, gold flats, and gold jewelry. He held open her door for her, which made her smile gratefully, and Blaine tried not to be perturbed when he noticed that she was wearing a gold star necklace. The one Finn had given her for Christmas.
No, he probably wasn't Finn's favorite person at the moment, he thought to himself as Rachel chattered on about her day, telling him things about classes and teachers and the New Directions (the kind of things she would yell at anyone else for sharing). And yes, Finn was a lovable teddy bear, but he was a large, lovable teddy bear with a temper. So, Blaine tried to put thoughts about betrayal out of his head (thinking about Finn could only lead him to thinking about Kurt, and then Charlie would have gotten to him, and even worse, psychically know that he had gotten to him. Sometimes he really hated that boy), and instead tried to focus on what Rachel was saying.
"And I've never really thought of alcohol as a valuable performance tool because of course why would you pollute talent with spirits but performing Blame It on the Alcohol made me realize that for some people alcohol is an everyday reality and in order to connect with those kind of people I need to have the experiences that alcohol gives those people which include not being able to remember what's happened the next day and I feel like that song really embodies that spirit of those experiences. Plus if I hadn't been introduced to alcohol we would never be going on this date." Rachel talked so quickly and so much, listening to her was starting to give him a headache, but he tuned in at the end.
"I wouldn't say never," he argued as he pulled out of the driveway. "I mean, you're beautiful and talented, what's not to like?"
"True," Rachel said with no sense of humility, "but alcohol is what made you question your previous reality of being attracted exclusively to men."
"I wouldn't attribute that all to alcohol," Blaine said, and to his Charlie-influenced mind, it sounded like Rachel was agreeing with all of the objections made by his friends. The tenor didn't even realize he was white-knuckling the steering wheel until a small, soft hand was covering one of his.
"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, clearly picking up on Blaine's tension.
"Fine," Blaine said, willing himself to relax. "I've just had a long day."
"So have I," Rachel said like she was confiding in him. "McKinley's having an Alcohol Awareness Week, and the bombardment is constant. Despite the hangover from Friday night, I find myself for the first time in my life acting like a typical teenager and wondering what's so bad about alcohol."
"Mental impairment, blackouts, poor judgments, alcohol poisoning, undesirable interactions with others," Blaine listed off before he was really thinking about it. "Long term, there can be brain damage, cirrhosis of the liver-"
"I understand that, but alcohol isn't as addictive as other substances. It can be used recreationally."
"Recreational use isn't always the best idea either," Blaine said, and Rachel sighed.
"Let's not argue on our first date." Blaine wasn't sure he liked the way Rachel said 'first date.' She made it sound like 'first of many.' Not that he didn't like her. "Do I get to know where you're taking me?"
"Well, with your curfew I had limited options, but I think I found something fun for us to do," Blaine said as he remembered that he was supposed to be driving and navigating rather than arguing with his date about alcohol. Thankfully, his brain worked pretty well on auto-pilot, and he had yet to take a wrong term, though he was struggling to remember all of the directions to the revival theatre.
Rachel chatted all the way to the theatre, purposefully avoiding the topic of alcohol, but Blaine was surprised to find her being witty and a little charming (if slightly verbose). Blaine could understand how some people didn't like how much she talked, but it didn't bother him a bit.
"The revival theater?" Rachel asked as soon as Blaine was about three miles away, and it was obvious she knew the root well. "I didn't think anything was playing tonight."
"It was sold out, but I got tickets earlier." Blaine didn't mention that the ticket were supposed to be for him and Kurt, because tickets were another thing that shouldn't be able to make him feel guilty.
Blaine made sure once he had found a parking spot to rush around the front of the car and open Rachel's door for her, making her smile. She giggled when he held out an arm to escort her, but looked confused when he opened the trunk. "What…" she started to ask, and then gasped and squealed in excitement when she recognized the clothes in the back. "Ali MacGraw!" she exclaimed. "This is so cute!"
"I know how much you love your authenticity," Blaine said with a shrug, glad she liked his surprise. The outfit he had chosen for her was the red sweater, black belt, red-and-black checked skirt, and red tights from the scene where Oliver picks Jenny up. He had chosen for himself the outfit Oliver wore while he was walking through campus with Jenny, jeans, a light blue button-up, a blue sweater, gray scarf, and gray cardigan. Rachel seemed thrilled.
"I can't believe we're going to see Love Story!"
"'What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved Mozart and Bach, the Beatles, and me?'" Blaine quoted, making Rachel smile brightly as she headed towards the bathrooms to change, Blaine doing the same.
The movie was fantastic, Rachel as familiar with it as he was, and they spent the entire ninety-nine minutes of the movie mouthing every line they could remember, especially the most famous one. The moment Jenny said, 'Love means never having to say you're sorry,' Rachel put her hand in his on the armrest, and he gave it a quick squeeze, not letting go for the rest of the movie. Blaine could tell that she was repressing her emotions a little as the audience discovered Jenny's sickness, so he squeezed her hand again, making her smile. She was one of the rule-following people who didn't talk during movies, so most of the date was silent.
'I don't know,' Rachel mouthed along with Ali MacGraw talking about the church, 'I never really joined. I mean, I guess I never thought that there's any world better than this one. I mean, what can be better than Mozart, or Bach, or you?'
Rachel talked from the moment they left the theatre all the way to her house. "I think we make a great Oliver and Jenny," she confided at one point, smoothing down her checked skirt and then tugging one side of his scarf into submission. "To be honest, they remind me of us, even as far as wardrobe. I think I own this skirt," she admitted with a laugh. "We're both gorgeous, and brilliant, but far more talented than either of them."
"The only way to make this movie better would be music," Blaine agreed, because he could imagine Love Story as a musical.
"It's a shame the first song that would probably be chosen for it is the Romeo & Juliet based Taylor Swift song, Love Story," Rachel said, "even though it doesn't really fit the plot."
"You could make the argument that Jenny and Oliver are Romeo and Juliet," Blaine mentioned, "though I agree that song doesn't fit the movie. Plus, there are far too many people today who don't even know about Love Story. I mean, the movie is forty years old."
Rachel started humming She Keeps Me Warm, and from there the conversation dissolved into a brainstorming session for Love Story: the Musical's soundtrack.
Blaine once again rushed around the front of the car to open Rachel's door for her when they arrived back at her house. Rachel graciously accepted his hand, climbing out of the car and again clinging to his arm. "Should I run back in and change into my old clothes so I can give this back?" she asked as she grabbed her dress from the backseat.
"Keep it," Blaine said, because he had no other use for the outfit anyway. Rachel smiled, draping her former outfit over her other arm and then taking his again.
"Tonight was really nice," she said with a smile, both of them standing on her doorstep. There were no lights on in her house, which meant Leroy and Hiram must have incredible faith in Blaine.
"Absolutely. There are very few women in the world who could be Jenny at any moment," he said, making her smile. "I love that movie."
"Love means never having to say you're sorry," Rachel quoted with a smile.
"I'll call you," Blaine promised, actually meaning it, and he gave Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back to the Prius. Rachel stayed on her doorstep as he got into the car. She waved when he looked back through the windshield, and was inside the house by the time he reached the end of the driveway.
Blaine's Prius was long gone by the time Kurt pulled up to Rachel's house, and yes, maybe it was idiotic to have driven all the way from Dalton to Lima (especially since he had to then drive back to make sure he was on time for classes tomorrow, and then drive back up to see his father), when he could have just asked her how the date went via phone. Still, he wasn't sure he was ready to talk to Blaine, and he would sleep better (albeit shorter) if he knew how much of a disaster the date was. Plus, Rachel was easier to understand when he could see her expression and knew what was just dramatic and what was real. Listening to her drone when he could only hear her voice would be… terrible. A date on a Tuesday night was strange to begin with, add that the date was over and Blaine was gone by ten, and Kurt wasn't very worried as he knocked on the door to the Berrys'.
Rachel was eventually the one to answer the door, and Kurt mentally wondered to himself if that was what she had worn on her date with Blaine or if she had come home and changed into something she would consider more comfortable (a sure sign the date went south). "Kurt?"
"Hey, Rachel," Kurt said, kind of pushing through the door and closing it behind him. "Since I was one of the only sober party members," he continued to speak as he walked down into the basement, "and one of the only people who was clearheaded enough to realize how much of a mess we left the place in," Rachel had trash bags and brooms already out, which proved that he could anticipate her (he refused to admit that they could sometimes think alike, though they definitely had the same taste in men), "I was wondering if you could use any help." He grabbed a bag and started doing so anyway.
"Uh, okay," Rachel said, not arguing with him. They worked in silence for a while, Kurt realizing how horrible her basement actually looked (yes, he had been sober, but he had been focused more on a drunk tenor than the state of Rachel's house), and he half-filled a bag with cups within a few minutes.
"Thanks for helping with the party cleanup," Rachel said something finally, cleaning the opposite side of the room from him, "especially considering that you didn't even drink."
"I was in the neighborhood," Kurt said innocently.
"At ten o'clock?" Rachel sounded skeptical, and no, Kurt knew she wasn't stupid. She could add up the number of hours it had taken him to get there and the number it would take him to get back. "Are you sure you're not here just to find out how my date with Blaine went?"
"Oh, was that tonight?" Kurt asked, keeping up the innocent act.
Rachel paused briefly in her cleaning, letting out a deep breath that was almost a sigh, and Kurt was on the verge of a victory dance. She was wearing a black turtleneck and a plain skirt, and either situation that lead to that particular clothing choice meant a horrible date. "Look, we're friends, so… I'm gonna be honest with you." Rachel picked up her trashcan and hugged it as she spoke. "The date was lovely." Kurt tried to fake a smile for her sake, but he had the feeling it didn't come off as very sincere. Still, she kept talking. "We saw Love Story at the revival theatre. We even dressed up as the characters." That could explain the attire, especially the skirt, he thought to himself as she walked over to start picking up cups from the stage, and was that a bra hanging from the curtain? Whose? Who went home without a bra? Was it Rachel's? Gross.
"That's not gay at all." Kurt wasn't sure whether he was hoping she would get the sarcasm or not. "Did you kiss?" He would keep going with the innocent act for as long as possible.
"No," she replied a little wistfully. "Our lips spent the evening mouthing Ali MacGraw's dialogue." Rachel put down her trashcan, which was surely a bad sign for Kurt's patience. "Frankly, I did expect a little snog as the date drew to a close, but… I guess the timing just wasn't right." Rachel sat on the stage, tossing a cup in from her seat.
"Or the blood-alcohol level," Kurt added, continuing to pick up cups, and even Rachel couldn't ignore that one.
"Look… I know that you have feelings for him, and I'm sure you think I'm crazy for asking him out. But Blaine is obviously conflicted and… if he turns out not to be gay, well, then I guess I will have done you a favor." And gotten herself a boyfriend in the process. There were so many things he could say in reaction to her statement, but the first thing he had to do was set her straight about Blaine, and men in general, for that matter.
"And I'm doing you a favor by telling you that Blaine is the first of a long line of 'conflicted' men that you will date that will later turn out to be only the most flaming of homosexuals," Kurt said, sitting down on the stage facing her and abandoning the façade of cleaning up the basement.
"Blaine and I have a lot in common," Rachel said defensively, pulling down her skirt (as if it made any difference).
"A sentiment expressed by many a hag about many a gay." Rachel breathed out her nose in frustration, fighting off a smile. "Look, I don't doubt that you and Blaine would have a jolly good time shopping at Burberry and arguing who would make the better Rum Tum Tugger." Rachel let out a little laugh at that. "I don't dispute that." Kurt shook his head to make his point. "But there's something you and Blaine will never have, and that's chemistry."
Rachel got that determined look on her face that meant she was cooking up something crazy behind those big brown eyes of hers. "Fine," she said, nodding slowly. "Then I'm gonna prove you wrong." Oh? "I'm gonna take the beer goggles off, and I'm gonna kiss him sober, and if the spark is still there, then I'm taking you to your bakery of choice for a piping-hot slice of humble pie."
Kurt considered Rachel's idea, and with absolute faith in the fact that Blaine was gay and didn't have chemistry with women, he found the idea more amusing than nerve-wracking. "Fine," he agreed. "And if you're wrong, then I shall serve you the same."
"Deal," Rachel said, and they shook on it. The soprano looked out over her basement and groaned. "Any chance you'll stay and help clean up now that I've told you what you want to know?"
"Minimal," Kurt admitted, standing up and holding out a hand to help Rachel up. "I do have a two hour drive back."
"Which is what made your visit highly conspicuous." Rachel accepted his hand and he pulled her easily to her feet.
"I can't believe you went out on a date where you dressed up in movie costumes," Kurt said with a sniff, because yes, Blaine was exactly the kind of cheesy romantic that would think of that, and he could believe Rachel would be crazy enough to go along, but dear Lorde, why?
"I assure you that it wasn't my idea," Rachel said with a smile, but the happiness waned quickly. "Am I a bad friend for asking Blaine out?"
"Yes," Kurt answered immediately, trying not to sound accusatory, "but I can get over that considering how horrible your date was."
"It was romantic!" she argued.
"You wore costumes," Kurt replied with a laugh, "you had to change after your date, which was on a Tuesday night, and you're home without so much as a kiss by ten. You don't have to take my word for it, ask anyone, and they'll tell you that's a terrible date."
"Maybe the premise," Rachel admitted, "but Blaine is what makes it romantic. He's cheesy and sincere and goofy and adorable, and he makes all of that work for him by taking girls on dates that match his personality. I can't criticize him for that."
"I agree, with the correction that it's not usually girls he's taking out on dates," he teased, and Rachel rolled her eyes.
"You understand what I mean. Blaine is sweet, in a way so few guys are."
"Finn is sweet."
"I don't want to talk about Finn."
"And I don't want you to date Blaine, but this isn't a get-what-you-want kind of friendship, is it?" It was more of a competitive friendship, and the prize in question was Blaine.
"Shouldn't you be driving home?" she asked as she return to picking up cups.
"Anything less than eight hours has the same result anyway, might as well find out the good McKinley gossip."
"Goodbye, Kurt," she said, briefly stopping her work to mock-push him towards the stairs.
"And I hope you didn't tell Blaine anything about the New Directions. What happens with Blaine does not stay with Blaine," he called out as he climbed the stairs, thinking about the fact that his kisses with Brittany were now all over the school.
"I can't believe you didn't kiss her," Charlie said at around eleven, laying on Blaine's unused bed, throwing his phone up in the air and catching it to amuse himself. Blaine had already announced that he took no responsibility if it broke in his room.
"I thought you were against this," Blaine replied as he got into his pajamas, too tired to care what Charlie saw.
"Yes, but you don't go on a date with a pretty, talented girl and not kiss her at the end. That makes it a bad date!"
"The date was great, Charlie," Blaine objected as he used a towel to rub some of the gel out of his hair, hoping his crazy best friend would leave shortly so that he could get some sleep. "It was romantic."
"But you didn't kiss her, and I'm willing to bet that sucked all of the romance right out of the air."
"Charlie, forgive me for saying this, but I don't think you know much about women, so I really don't plan to take your advice on my relationship with Rachel."
"You don't have a relationship with Rachel, because you didn't kiss her." Charlie was adamant.
"Would you just go back to your room? We have class tomorrow, and some of us actually believe in showing up."
"I went to class. Just not my class," he qualified. "And I'm sleeping in here tonight." Charlie didn't bother to ask permission, which really didn't surprise Blaine anymore.
"May I ask why?"
"No," was Charlie's answer. "Do you really think I've screwed things up with Lucas forever?"
"He loves you, Charlie," Blaine said, ignoring the snort from his best friend and climbing into his bed. "I think he would do anything for you."
"Then why did he break up with me?"
"That's something you're going to have to ask him."
"You suck."
"Excellently."
Kurt was feeling relatively cheerful when he woke up on Wednesday morning, even though he wasn't rested in the least. Rachel's date with Blaine had been cheesy, awkward, and terrible, which hopefully had proven to Blaine that he wasn't interested in her. Maybe he was still questioning, but he could stop dating Kurt's best friend.
He whistled to Pavarotti, who had adopted the habit of whistling in return, and he was teaching the bird how to whistle Good Life when Chris finally got out of the shower. "Do I even want to know what you were doing in there for twenty minutes?" Kurt asked his roommate, who smiled unabashedly.
"You're in a good mood this morning."
"Blaine's date with Rachel was terrible."
"And you're feeling vindicated?"
"That would be correct." Kurt finished his moisturizing routine. "And I'm headed to Lima today to spend some time with my father."
"On a Wednesday?"
"He said he wanted to see me," Kurt replied, curious himself about his father's insistence. "And since Wes is already starting to become Rachel-esque about Regionals, considering how excited and competitive everyone is, I probably won't get home this weekend. We have rehearsal on Friday, Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday-"
"I get it, lots of rehearsal." Chris was just upset because basketball season had ended at Dalton and he had no extracurricular activity to immerse himself in.
"Why don't you just play baseball?" Kurt suggested. "Or spend massive amounts of time watching March Madness, like every other heterosexual man on the planet."
"And Blaine?" Chris asked with a grin.
"Shut up. Rachel thinks their date was 'fantastic,' but she made it sound terrible."
"Is that something you actually think, or just something you want to think because you want to be the one going out on dates with Blaine?"
"I doubt I would look good in Ali MacGraw's costumes," Kurt said, trying not to notice the bitterness in his own voice. Chris looked at him in confusion. "They went to Love Story at the Lima Revival Theatre, they dressed up as Jenny and Oliver from the movie, it was last night, and he didn't even kiss her at the end of the date, which was over by ten."
"Doesn't sound like a great date, but isn't Rachel crazy anyway?" Kurt nodded. "What did Blaine think?"
"I haven't talked to him."
"Still?"
"I don't want to talk to him until this whole thing blows over," Kurt said as he straightened his tie and picked up his messenger bag, headed for breakfast. The story of his fight with Blaine had reached everyone in the school, and Griffin, despite assurances by Kurt that this didn't mean he had a shot, had made it his personal mission to protect Kurt, making his hockey minions keep a ring around him at all times. He was even sitting at the hockey players' tables for meals, unless he sat with Chris. Charlie was flitting around as usual, but he wasn't talking to Kurt and appeared to have taken Blaine's side, according to Mr. Weatherbie's period 5 class and the fact that Charlie had slept in Blaine's room last night. Something that didn't bother Kurt at all.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but I don't think this is going to blow over. From the way you describe her, Rachel's a lot like you, and she's also a prude. When someone's questioning as hard as Blaine is, what's going to stop him from dating her if it's not you? Especially because she won't let him get anywhere that would make him uncomfortable. Lips are lips, dude, they're the same on everyone, dude or chick." Kurt sighed, but didn't respond as he left. Suddenly he wasn't in such a good mood.
Kurt suffered through the long drive home with a little help from Whitney and Madonna, and even though it was only four and his dad should probably still be in the shop, Burt's truck was parked in front of the house. Carole's car was gone, she was probably still at work, and Finn's truck was missing from their driveway. He was probably out with Quinn again.
"Hey, dad," he called out as he walked through his front door, dropping his messenger bag next to the couch. Even though he still technically lived in Lima, it felt awkward to just walk through the door. He spent so much time at Dalton, it was starting to feel more like home than his own house.
"Hey, kid, I didn't expect you so early. Don't you have practice?"
"Rehearsal," Kurt corrected his dad's terminology, "and not until Friday. We have some serious work to do for Regionals."
"When is that? Finn couldn't tell me, and he broke up with his only girlfriend that talked about Glee constantly." Kurt chuckled at his dad's description of Rachel.
"April 2nd," Kurt replied.
"I'll be there. Not sure who I'm supposed to be rooting for, but I'll be there."
"To be honest, I don't envy your position in the middle, but I share the same sentiment."
"The longer you spend at private school, the fancier you get," Burt said, but he didn't make it sound like a bad thing. "You still want to teach me about food?"
"Yes, I also feel terrible making Carole do all the cooking in my absence, but did you really call me home on a Wednesday to ask me about cooking?" Kurt asked, because that didn't sound like his dad at all. "And I know Finn isn't having any Rachel or Quinn problems, either."
"Come on, kid, teach me about brunch."
"It's a little late for brunch," Kurt said, noting that it was around four thirty. "How about something we can make quickly? Soufflé?"
"Sure," Burt said hesitantly as Kurt started pulling ingredients out of the cabinets. "I definitely know what that is."
"Soufflé is a lightly-baked cake made with eggs that can be either a main dish or a dessert, depending on the ingredients you add," Kurt explained as he pulled out the ingredients for vanilla soufflé, knowing that would probably be what the kitchen was stocked for. The available ingredients were much less diverse when he wasn't the one doing the shopping, not that he could blame Carole for not stocking more healthy things. With him eating almost every meal at Dalton, they would go to waste anyway. "The word is French, the past participle of souffler, which means to 'blow up' or 'puff up,' chosen because it describes what happens to this combination."
"Soufflé is all about the whites," Kurt told his dad as Burt was dipping freshly-washed strawberries in sugar to top their creation, which was in the oven. "If you get yolk in it or you don't let it stiffen properly," he continued, ignoring the fact that his dad was eating ingredients, "then you might as well be making pancakes."
"All right. You think the one we already made is ready yet?" Burt asked as he popped another strawberry in his mouth.
"I hope so," Kurt glanced at the oven.
"All right, let's check it out." Burt had the foresight to put on an oven mitt before pulling the tray out of the oven. "Here we go. Ta-da!"
Kurt sighed as he saw their creation. It was flat, drooped in on one edge. "You didn't leave enough room in the dish to let it rise," he told his father as he walked over to the sink, putting one of the bowls they had used in there. He would be nice to Carole and wash their dishes before he left.
"Hey, I'm sorry," his dad exclaimed. "Why are you being so hard on me? I would've been happy with you teaching me to make… toast." Kurt continued to look out the window, knowing that he was being brusque with his father because of his stupid roommate's reality check about Blaine and Rachel and that date he couldn't stop thinking about.
"Okay, I'm sorry, Dad. I know this is supposed to be bonding time, but," Kurt turned around to face this father, "…it's Blaine." Kurt made it a point not to talk to his dad about boys very often, because he loved his dad, but he knew Burt was far from being able to handle Kurt dating. This was an exception. There was no one he could talk to that wouldn't have heard rumors, that could be impartial about the whole thing. Burt nodded. "He's interested… in Rachel."
His father took a moment before answering. "I'm confused. I thought he was gay too." Burt went to the refrigerator, probably to grab something to snack on that Kurt wouldn't yell at him for.
"Oh, he is, he is. He's just… experimenting."
"Yeah, he's not the only one." Sometimes Kurt forgot that he got his attitude from his father.
"What does that mean?"
"Look, I need you to ask me before you have someone sleep over." Burt looked entirely unimpressed, taking a sip of the beer he had taken out of the fridge.
"We-we were fully clothed the entire time," Kurt explained. "Blaine was too drunk to drive, so I let him crash here. I was being responsible."
"What, you mean you kids are drinking now?" Burt demanded.
"Finn and I didn't have any… if that's what you're worried about." He couldn't exactly say the same for any of the other New Directions, but that was for their parent to worry about. Plus, he was willing to bet that wasn't what his dad was worrying about.
"No, I'm worried about you being inappropriate in my house."
"And if Puckerman had a sleepover with Finn, would that be inappropriate?"
"That's different," his dad said immediately.
"Because they wouldn't have sex?" Kurt asked. Not that he and Blaine would, but that wasn't something he wanted to argue with his father about at the moment.
"No, I would never allow Finn to have a girl sleep over in his bed."
"But would it make you uncomfortable if he did?" Would it be 'inappropriate' for Finn to be having sex? Because Kurt was willing to bet that Burt would give Finn a box of condoms and a high-five rather than a lecture on appropriateness in the house.
"Hey, when have I been uncomfortable with you being gay?" Burt immediately went on the defensive, and if Kurt had wanted to hurt his father, he could have said 'Always!' But that wasn't what he wanted.
"So, it's not being gay that upsets you. It's just me acting on it."
"I don't know what two guys do when they're… together!" How had they gotten on this? "You know, I sat through that whole Brokeback Mountain. From what I gather, something went down in the tent."
"What… do you want from me here, Dad? I…" Kurt shrugged his shoulders, because he honestly didn't know what to say. For the second time ever, he had opened up to his dad about his romantic life, and his dad had reacted by yelling at him for stopping Blaine from getting into a wreck. Kurt couldn't imagine how Burt would react if he knew about all the times he and Blaine had ended up cuddling at Dalton. His dad would probably have a second heart attack on the spot.
"I want you to apologize for being inappropriate… and promise me you'll never do it again."
Kurt considered it for a moment. "Fine. I'm sorry," he said without a touch of remorse. "I won't have sleepovers with anyone that might be gay without asking you first."
"Thank you," Burt said, though Kurt knew his dad knew he was being a touch sarcastic in his apology.
Kurt exited the kitchen, dishes be damned, but he did have to say one more thing to his father. "But maybe you could… step outside your comfort zone and educate yourself, so if I have any questions, I could… go to my dad like any straight son could," he said with a little shrug. Kurt only said it because he knew his dad was uncomfortable and wasn't willing to admit it.
Plus, it wasn't like his dad ever would.
A/N: There are only three more scenes in BIOTA, then onto Sexy! I'm going to have a lot of fun writing that. I apologize, as usual, for the delay between chapters, but I made a promise to myself I'm going to try to write more.
Songs mentioned:
'Blame It on the Alcohol' by Jamie Foxx feat. T-Pain (in the style of Glee)
'Love Story' by Taylor Swift
'She Keeps Me Warm' by Mary Lambert
'Good Life' by OneRepublic
Reviews are Love.