Blaine should have known better.
He knows this. The kid that beat the crap out of him for the second time of his life knows it. His arresting officer knew it, his parent's knew it, the judge, and even the Jury knew it.
But he'd just finished his time as a freshman the second time around. He'd been taking boxing lessons recently, but he'd been going a few months already, and they hadn't quite helped with the anger yet. Coupled with running into one of those homophobic bastards while on a run he'd taken specifically to clear his head, well, he hadn't been in a place to make good decisions.
That the officer had witnessed everything only turned out to be a good thing in the long run is not something he enjoys having pointed out. Yes, it's nice that it's just some bruises instead of casts and surgery this time, but the knowledge that not having noticed the officer when he attacked the guy meant the police officer did him a favor by arresting him doesn't help with the anger at all.
Nor does the knowledge that he get's off with a metaphorical slap on the wrist because everyone just feels sorry for him. A hundred hours of community service and a fine. It's not even going on his record. Which is a good thing, seeing as Dalton might not take him back with a rap sheet.
Wes is very short with him, after. Unhappy with him messing with the councils plans for him, or rather, his voice. Blaine surprises himself with having to bite back some choice words over the phone. He can't help it though. He's just mad. Or maybe it's depressed.
He doesn't even gel before heading out to work off his so-called felony.
He's surprised to realize his fellow inmates are kind of hot. He lingers by the door for a moment, and just admires the gorgeous guys in front of him.
There's a broad one with his jumpsuit open, sporting a wife beater that shows off a very impressive physique. The Mohawk would be a turnoff, but his face more than makes up for it, he's got these great amber eyes, too. Blaine watched him slide an arm around the pretty, slim, one. He sadly has the jumpsuit zipped all the way up. But he's got an amazing profile, and when he turns, his clear grey blue eyes knock the other ones amber eyes straight out of the running. Seriously, wow.
The community service might be worth it just for the eye candy.
When they pass him, the pretty one barely spares him a glance. But the taller one meets his eyes, challenging. Like he's daring Blaine to say something. It's not until he pulls the pretty boy next to him even closer that it even occurs to Blaine what he might be challenging him on. Blaine shakes his head with a smile, trying to communicate that it won't be a problem.
It would be ridiculously hypocritical of him. He's mildly amazed to find other gay kids in community service though. He wonders what the other boys did. But mostly he wonders if they have equally hot gay friends they can introduce him too. Suddenly he really wishes he'd gelled his hair that morning, orange is so not his color.
He spend a little too much time trying to make his curls presentable and is sad to realize he missed the introductions.
Blaine tries not to be too obvious about ogling the couple as they're walked towards the benches they're supposed to be painting that day. He knows he shouldn't, since they're together, but he can't help it. They're both really hot.
When they start singing and they both have amazing voices to boot, Blaine pinches himself. Seriously, has compulsory community service been the place the talented hot gay boys of Ohio been this whole time? Blaine would have happily gotten arrested sooner if he'd known. Or maybe he would have volunteered. Something, he doesn't know. The point is that they're talented, hot, and singing a top forty song.
Blaine has to get in on it.
For a while they sing, and paint, and Blaine barely remembers he's supposed to be miserable and that this is a punishment. But from one second to the next, the sky get's overcast, and thunder rolls.
A ball of hail the size of a basketball crashes on the bench Blaine had been busy painting and he shrieks five octaves higher than he thought his voice could go.
One of the girls, the spanish looking one, he thinks, screams for them to run. It takes a few moments of panicked flailing before they're off. Running full tilt to the protection offered by the community center. They find it locked.
"Open it!" The larger boy screams. Their probation officer drops the keys.
"Pick it up!" The pretty boy shouts.
"STOP!" Their probation officer roars and shoves them away. Clustered tightly as they are, they fall back.
Then lightning strikes.
Blaine thinks his heart stops.
There's a strange tingle going up his spine and he's scared to move from the sprawl he's landed in, what if he can't? He should be dead. Or at least in massive amounts of pain. So far he feels okay, and that does not compute.
Someone beside him groans. He thinks it's the blonde girl, he vaguely remembers her standing next to him as their probation worker started trying to open the door.
"Santana!" She exclaims, springing to her feet and rushing to the spanish girls side.
"Britt." The other girl gasps, touching her hand and suddenly they're kissing furiously. Blaine has a spare moment to wonder if everyone in community service is gay, before the pretty boy pulls the blonde one, Britt, from Santana.
"I'm glad you're both feeling well enough to make out, but now is not the time!" He snarls, even as he pulls the blonde girl into a tight hug.
"The time for what, Kurt?" Britt asks, sounding confused. Blaine just stares at them all, incredulous. The mohawked boy shakes his head at them. The broader boy offers Santana a hand up and suddenly pulls her into a heated embrace. For a moment Blaine is convinced they're about to fuck right in front of him.
But then the pretty boy, Kurt interferes again. Grabbing Santana by the back of her orange jumpsuit and dragging her straight out of the mohawked boys arms.
"Puck!" He hisses, furious." What did I just say?"
Santana seems to curl up into herself, flinching away when the blonde girl tries to approach her again.
"Just don't." She says, and there's something almost hysterical in it."Nobody touch me!"
"Assholes." A voice says, and the rest of them collectively remember that their probation worker exists. Kurt turns his furious glare from the Mohawk guy, Puck, to their probation worker. He glares right back, opening his mouth to bark,"GO. All of you."
Blaine spots the keys from where the probation worker dropped them and edges carefully around him to pick them up. The guy is twitching and Blaine was just hit by lightning. No one needs to tell him twice to leave.
Once he gets the door open the others follow.
They're changing quickly, both boys backs to him, and Blaine is trying hard not to listen in to what the other boys are saying when it strikes him that there's no possible way the two are a couple. They are on two very separate pages, and neither seems to care. The relationship could not be romantic in the least if no one was taking umbrage to some of the things they were saying to each other. Come to think of it. If Kurt had been Pucks boyfriend, he probably would have been even angrier at Puck kissing a girl.
"Damn. I must of been really hard from the adrenalin." Pucks says, speaking over Kurt's mostly mumbled tirade about the orange suit they're all forced to wear.
"I can't believe we're all fortunate enough to survive something like that and they start making out." Kurt begins once the 'dreaded, despicable, etc, etc ' orange monstrosity is finally off.
"God, now I'm gonna be stuck in a car with a bitchy Santana. Fuck and I bet she won't even make out with me now that she's freaking out about almost dying. That sucks." Puck continues blithely right over him.
"I'm just gonna go home and hug my Dad. Maybe talk to him about letting Carole and Finn move back in. Near death experiences really bring everything into perspective, getting called a fag really isn't so bad. I almost got fried by lightning."
"I almost wished I would have gotten a scar from that lightning bolt, it would have been so bad ass."
"Oh my Gaga, I almost died a virgin! I think I just really need to find a cute gay boy and sleep with them at least once. There will be time for romance when I get to new New York. For now, I think I really could be happy if I at least got a blowjob."
Blaine is very distracted by that mental image, and the knowledge that he's pretty much in the same boat. He wonders briefly if Kurt would take him up on it if he offered. But then Puck turns around, and his mouth doesn't move, but Blaine very clearly hears,"Why is that midget string at us."
Blaine flushes at being so rude, ducking his head and focusing on getting ready. Those two clearly had no filter and Blaine's brain must have been playing tricks on him. Or maybe Puck was a ventriloquist. He didn't know.
He just wanted to get home where things were sane and the weather didn't make attempts on his life.
Community Service was crazy. Blaine will come to look back on that thought fondly. He would have much rather have it have been crazy than the dangerous near death trap it turned out to be. They barely survive the summer by the skin of their teeth as it is. There are a trail of bodies that could not say the same.
Blaine will look back at that moment as the last one where he still had hope everything could turn back to normal. None of it ever does.