A/N: Hello again! It's been a while but not as long as before. The good news: a new chapter; more good news: I've already started working on the next one! So it shouldn't take me very long with an update, but I'm going to stop giving you times in which I will post something... I seem to never keep that promise. Anyways, onto the chapter!
Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
Translations:
Nothing I haven't already translated.
Enjoy!
Just like Kurt had thought, Burt had been more concerned than mad when Kurt walked into the house with his face half swollen and a lot more bruised, knuckles scraped raw and red, and his jeans dirty and ripped at the knee.
But his dad was a traditional man through and through, and he knew that Carol would tell him if there was anything serious wrong; so he only asked, "How did the other guy look?"
"All six of them ran scared," he responded back. Kurt wanted to go on about how he was not the only one in the fight until Finn came lumbering into the room from the kitchen, a sandwich half stuffed in his mouth, but his eyes sharp as they took in Kurt's torn appearance.
His dad smirked at him, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, "Tha's my boy!"
Luckily it did not sting as much as he expected it to.
"Oh, Kurt!"
They looked over at Carol as she came into the room, face stricken and worry lines visible all over her face.
"Aw, Carol, I'm okay," Kurt tried to reassure her quickly, but allowing her to maneuver him around and down onto the couch. "Really, truly."
"Shh, let me look."
The teen did as she said, she was a nurse after all; and he had too much respect for Carol as a person and a mother to not let her take care of him. Having lost his mom so young, Kurt had missed the coddling, the caring, the unconditional love. Not that Kurt did not get that from his father, it was just the feminine aspect that he had missed so much.
Objectively though, his face has felt worse before, so he knew that what injuries he did have, were not bad. A little ice, a little cleaning, a little disinfectant on his cuts and he would be good as new.
After looking over his face, she moved onto his hands, running her fingers along his knuckles and over his wrists, manipulating and bending each one carefully. It was all very clinical, but all the touching made Kurt just a little uncomfortable; mostly because he did not want Carol to worry about him. He loved Carol, but when she fussed over him, it made Finn mad because Carol was his mom.
Kurt flinched when she pressed her fingers into his right side.
"I'm sorry," she said, making her touch a little more gentle as she continued to press into the surrounding area. "Nothing seems to be broken, but—" Carol said firmly, pulling back from Kurt, "—I want you to be careful. I don't like when you and Finn come home looking like you got hit by a train."
The teen smiled, "I will be on my very best behavior, Carol."
"These things happen, Carol," Burt said, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder, comforting her. "Both our boys are young, and they need to run a little wild. Get into some trouble, fight, and be rowdy. They're growin' boys, they just need to get it out of their system. I remember being three times as rowdy and eight times as rude. We've got some tough, sweet boys." Carol smiled at that comment, covering Burt's hand with her own, which he used to pull her up and into an impromptu slow dance, "We got lucky."
Kurt rolled his eyes at his dad's antics before making a hasty escape before things got too mushy between the keepers, and by the heavy steps that followed him; he was not the only one that was heading to his room.
Geez, I really don't want to deal with this right now, Kurt thought as he opened his door, leaving it open for his shadow. He knew what was coming, he knew it from the moment he walked out of the department store and away from Carol, this was just the inevitable confrontation he was going to have with Finn—though, it was more like the confrontation that Finn was going to have with him.
"Did this happen after you left my mom?," the taller demanded after he closed the door, hopefully blocking their parents from hearing.
Kurt scoffed and yanked off his jacket, "I didn't leave your mom because I wanted to! I knew I was going to get tailed as soon as those Scorpions saw my leather! I didn't want her to get involved because they could have hurt her! So I walked off!"
"Scorpions? Scorpions?" Finn pressed forward into Kurt's space, voice rising, "You got into a fight with Scorpions while you were out with my mom?"
"Fuck, Finn," Kurt yelled, shoving the taller teen back, "listen to me! I didn't get into a fight! I got jumped! And I got jumped because I didn't want anything to happen to Carol!"
Finn just glared, fists clenched at his sides, posture stiff and straight, standing tall so that he could loom over Kurt; seemingly trying to make a point when there was none to be made. After a time of silence and glaring, Finn turned and left, slamming Kurt's door behind him.
"Don't be slammin' no doors in this house!", Burt shouted from down stairs.
"Sorry, dad," Kurt responded not two seconds before Finn.
"Sorry, Burt," the other teen said followed by the door across the hall closing.
Kurt almost wished that was the end of it, but he knew Finn better than that. This whole thing would drag out for weeks or until Finn got into a fist fight with someone, be it Kurt or not. Finn, like any other boy their age, enjoyed the rush of the fight; and while he himself felt the same exhilaration, it was only after the whole thing was been over.
He sighed, flopping back onto the bed, letting his body rest for just a moment before he would drag himself off to the bathroom to clean up, Maybe I'm not cut out for this gang stuff, after all.
A whistle rang out through the hall somewhere to Kurt's right as he traded out his French notebook for his History, just like most chatter in the hallways, Kurt ignored it for what it was, something having nothing to do with him.
"What are the chances running into you again, kid?"
Except this time it did.
Kurt whirled around and smiled, disbelieving, because there was Blaine, a face he was so sure that he would never see again... and nearly not as bruised as he remembered him being.
"What are you doing here?," Kurt asked.
Blaine shrugged, leaning against the lockers near Kurt, "Pops got a job out here a few months ago and just moved me and mom out here last week."
"Ah," Kurt nodded, "so you were out exploring yesterday."
"Sure was—and glad for it," the shorter teen smirked, "I hadn't had a good fight since we moved and I had to leave my gang behind... Honestly, I feel like that's why my dad took the job out here. Can't disgrace the family if I'm nowhere near the bad influences."
"Yeah, sure, they were the bad influences with you getting into a fight less than a week of moving here," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Blaine said, protesting, "I made it more than a week—a week and a day!"
The taller teen laughed, "Ah, what a straight-laced, debutante escort you are!"
Blaine smirked, "All the charm and none of the manners."
"I'll bet," Kurt exclaimed, sending both of the teens into a small fit of laughter.
"Kurt."
Both teens turned towards the voice that called out, laughter gone from the lost moment because of the cutting tone of the new arrival, which Kurt knew as Finn.
...and the whole gang was standing with him, though they all seemed in a lot of a better mood, a few of them even smiled at Blaine.
"Who's this punk?" Finn asked, glaring at the shorter teen, who continued to lounge against the lockers next to Kurt. His tone giving merit to Kurt's own thoughts the night before, Finn was looking for a fight and would take anything as an excuse to get into one; even a stranger that was talking all merry like with one of his gang.
"This is Blaine," Kurt introduced, glaring at Finn a little for being rude. The guy was pissed at him; he did not need to take it out of innocent by-standers, "He just moved to Lima last week. He was the one that helped me out yesterday when I got jumped. He's a pretty cool cat."
"Aw, shucks," Blaine said, kicking in feet in mock embarrassment, "you're not so bad yourself, kid. You're scrappy, and I like that in a fighter."
Kurt grinned at the compliment, he did not get many of those and he was going to bask in the ones Blaine was giving him as long as he could.
Puck was the first of the gang to step forward, hand out stretched to Blaine, "Well, damn. If you helped out Kurt and got such praise from him, then you're okay in my book, daddy-o."
Blaine stood from his leaned position and took the offered hand in a firm shake, "Thanks. It really was not trouble." Both teens released hands and Blaine stuffed them in the pockets of his jacket, "I just told Kurt that he was the one that did me the favor, I hadn't had a good fight since my dad dragged me and my mom here a week ago."
"A week and a day ago," Kurt whispered mockingly, earning him a light shove and a smirk from Blaine.
"Well, then," Sam said, approaching Puck and laying an arm around his shoulders, "as a thanks for helping out the weakest in the gang—"
"Hey!" Kurt shouted in protest.
"—it would be polite for us to offer you something in return," he finished, sending a wink Kurt's way, which seemed to settle the other teen, if begrudgingly.
"Yeah," Puck agreed, "How about lunch on us?"
Blaine smiled, "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I didn't help Kurt because I was looking to get something out of it. So that's really not necessary."
Puck smirked, leaning forward slightly in an intimidating manner, which Blaine immediately responded to in kind, "We insist."
"Back off, Puck," Finn said, still standing across the hall, knowing he did not need to step forward to assert his authority. Both Sam and Puck stepped away from Blaine, but only just so that they were not blocking Finn from the new teen. Finn on the other hand turned his gaze on Kurt, causing the thinner teen to clench his fists under the scrutiny, tightening his hold on the notebook in his hands. "You didn't say anything about being helped last night. Were you trying to make it seem like you're stronger than you are?"
Kurt gritted his teeth against the most immediate answer he wanted to give, causing his response to come out stained and drawn out, "You didn' bother to talk to me long 'nough for me to say any differen'."
"You should have told me anyways," Finn practically shouted, taking a threatening step forward, which Kurt matched.
Artie rolled himself between the two, "Hold up." The wheel-bounded teen glanced over his shoulder and down the hall, probably keeping an eye out for teachers and the like. "Let's take this outside."
Kurt just nodded, still glaring at Finn as he closed his locker with a slam before turning to Blaine with a small smile, "I'll see you around."
The shorter teen smirked and leaning back against the lockers, completely at ease with Kurt's silent challenge, "You bet, kid."
With that, Kurt gave one last glare to Finn before storming his way down the hall, toward the side door that let out near the bleachers, the whole gang following after him, sending curious and murderous glances towards Blaine as they passed him.
Blaine let out a low whistle, finding the whole thing amusing, "Damn if I'm not going to have a fun time being his friend."
A/N: Tension. Well, I hope ya'll are not looking for a story with a quick ending, because right now (even though I do have one) I just keep getting idea after idea in between then and here. Good or bad, I'm committed to this story because it's so tempting (despite Glee being officially over).
Thanks for reading, the support and the lovely reviews!
I hope ya'll enjoyed!
Until next time,
Anjel Starlight