A/N Sorry for the wait! I was trying to get this up sooner!
Anyway, this one's a bit of fluff and has a visit from Finn! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
"Je suis allé au restaurant la nuit dernière et a mangé du poulet. Répéter, la classe!" The woman spoke with fake enthusiasm, looking at her students in front of her.
"Je suis allé au restaurant la nuit dernière et a mangé du poulet…" Kurt sighed. This was torture. He was fluent in French. He used correct pronunciation and spoke with a beautiful accent. Sitting here, going over and repeating basic French I material and conjugations made his brain feel like it was going to implode. In fact, all of his classes so far were impossibly less-demanding than those he took at McKinley. It seemed as though the teachers had to work twice as hard and be twice as strict, to get the kids here to do half the work.
It was Tuesday afternoon and Kurt, bored, thought back to the past few days and his experiences.
During Sunday evening group, he remained completely silent, not commenting or consoling the others, until Ms. Webber asked him the standard, "Would you like to share anything today?" And Kurt burst out into tears, surprising even himself with his release of emotions.
"Kurt. Kurt, are you alright? Would you like to talk about it?" The teacher had asked gently, watching his body shake with sobs.
"I-I-I was r-raped," he choked out, covering his face in shame. A few sounds of surprise were heard throughout the room. "A-a few months b-before I was arrested. A-and other than my family a-and the doctor, and the people at the t-trial," his voice dropped down to a low whisper. "I never told anyone."
And so much was true. After the incident, he returned home and wasn't able to hide it from his family, who insisted taking him to the hospital and a having a mental evaluation. Of course, it was spoken of when he was defending his reasons for killing Dave Karofsky. But he never told his Glee mates, his teachers, his best friend. When the trial went public, he was sure they knew, but he wasn't in school then. And he never actually told them himself. Right after the incident was the hardest time to play normal.
"Boy, you sure you're alright?" The diva asked with a suspicious raised eyebrow, eyes raking over the boy's bruises, as he took a couple books from his locker. He stiffened noticeably at the question, but continued his actions, then sighed dramatically.
"Of course I'm alright, Mercedes," he closed his locker and faced her. "I've been jumped before. This time wasn't even that bad… I'm just a little on edge." She gave him a mixed look of disbelief and hurt, like she knew he was keeping something from her.
"If you say so…"
Why he felt like he could tell these kids before he could tell his own friends, he wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that at McKinley, he stood out so obviously already. He stuck out like a sore thumb without even trying. If they knew something like that happened to him and it got around the school, he was going to be treated with even more distance than before. At Dalton, he was just another kid with his own set of problems. Just another fucked up guy with fucked up stories and experiences, nothing anyone here hadn't heard of before.
On Monday morning before classes started, Kurt experienced 'rounds' for the first time, something he found he wasn't particularly fond of.
"Okay. What was that? How come you didn't have to do that?" Kurt demanded as he pulled his pants back on from where they were placed on his bed. He turned to his smirking roommate with an expectant look, hands on his hips.
"They probably just did a strip n' search on you because you're new… Or because of your record. Or the drug dog thought you smelled weird, whatever. It happens." He shrugged indifferently, but the amused look on his face was obvious.
"Très bien! Maintenant! Mon repas était très délicieux. J'ai eu le dessert, par la suite." Madame Achille spoke slowly, nodding and turning away from the class to begin writing on the chalkboard.
"Mon repas était très délicieux. J'ai eu le-"
"Monsieur Anderson!" She interrupted the class, turning towards the door where Blaine was strolling in casually, his messenger bag hanging loosely and shiny from rain, the sleeves of his blazer dark and wet. He closed the door nonchalantly behind himself and faced the teacher. The boy cocked an eyebrow questioningly, stopping in front of the woman and giving her a blank stare.
"…Yeah…?"
"You are 20 minutes late!" She threw at him in her thick accent, visibly annoyed.
"Yeah." He agreed lightly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The teacher let out a frustrated sigh and turned back around to face the board and finished writing the assignment.
"Take a seat," she mumbled irately. Blaine's lips twitched up into a smug, triumphant smile as he stalked past the first few rows of desks until slumping into the empty seat next to Kurt, who blushed lightly when they locked eyes. "Since Monsieur Anderson was so kind to interrupt our exercise, let's get started on the bookwork for the day, shall we?" The pale boy watched intently as Blaine dug around in his bag and pulled out a French book.
"I didn't know you took French," Kurt commented coolly, watching the other boy now retrieving a notebook and placing it on his desk. I'm not flirting, he told himself. I'm not flirting with a guy who waltzes into class 20 minutes late and doesn't give a crap. Blaine turned to Kurt with an amused smile and raised pierced eyebrow.
"I don't. I spend three hours a week sitting in a French classroom, butchering the language and culture, and embarrassing myself." He smiled, turning his attention back to the board where the teacher was writing their assignment for the day. His eyes darted between the board and his notebook where he was hastily copying the task. "I'm positively dreadful at speaking French," he added quietly, with a teasing smile. Kurt giggled softly and began his assignment.
After they finished their bookwork, they were partnered up to do a talking, back and forth, exercise. Kurt, to his initial disappointment, was paired with the boy to his right, as opposed to Blaine, on his left. But he soon discovered that Josh was actually a very nice person, and relatively good at French.
Kurt giggled. "Danielle, est-elle votre cousin?" He spoke, reading the next prepared passage from the book in front of him. Josh cocked an eyebrow.
"No," he started, causing Kurt to quirk an eyebrow quizzically because it was not the response in the book. "Je vais avoir des relations sexuelles avec elle!" He exclaimed loudly, stifling the talking in classroom immediately, causing the two boys to crumble in laughter.
"Boys! Behave yourselves! Monsieur Byers, do you want a repeat of last Friday?" The teacher threatened heatedly. Josh scoffed and turned back to face his book, dismissing the woman without any kind of response. Kurt held in a few remaining giggles and turned his attention back to his book as well, not noticing the odd look Blaine was giving him.
After the bell rang, Kurt hung behind a little while after the class to collect his things. As he tucked his notebook into his bag carefully, his eyes caught Blaine about to head out the door. "Blaine!" He called after the boy, pulling the strap of his bag onto his shoulder and walking over to where Blaine was stopped in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.
"What, Kurt? I need to go to class." He asked bitterly, a small scowl appearing on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the doorway, looking bored. Kurt came to a halt, seeing Blaine's seemingly angry expression.
"Uh… I – I just… I forgot my group schedule in my room. What time is it today?" He asked, following the other boy as he started walking out the door in the middle of Kurt's question.
"5:30," he replied in an impatient monotone, increasing his pace to leave Kurt behind. The pale boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and took quicker strides to catch up with the other boy, who sighed when he noticed Kurt's presence next to him. The young boy quirked a puzzled eyebrow and tilted his head to get a better look at Blaine's face.
"Wasn't that the last class of the day?" He inquired with narrowed eyes, watching as the other boy scratched his arms nervously through his shirt sleeves and tried to increase his pace even yet again. When he didn't respond, Kurt stepped in front of him, blocking him from going any further. "Are you mad at me or something?" Blaine rolled his eyes dramatically and let out a disgruntled sigh.
"Fuck, Kurt. Stop being such a little bitch about everything!" He bellowed and threw his arms up in the air, storming away from Kurt and in the direction of the dorm buildings. Kurt's mouth hung open in a mix of confusion and surprise, following the path he left with his eyes.
Wes and David ran up to Kurt quickly, having heard Blaine's exclamation. David looked at Kurt's hurt face and took off in the direction Blaine went, while Wes placed a reassuring hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Don't take it personally, Kurt. He's like this to everyone when he's jonesing." Wes patted his shoulder and joined him in watching the place where Blaine and David left. Kurt blinked a few times and turned to face the Asian boy.
"…'Jonesing'…?" He repeated dumbly, quirking an eyebrow.
The boy pursed his lips slightly and furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "I – Yeah. I mean, you know. He's been shooting up again, so he's been having the cravings again," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the floor. "But it's just like this for a little while, so don't get too worked up over his little outbursts." Kurt didn't respond, disturbed at how lightly these boys were all taking such a serious addiction. "Well, anyway. I'm gonna go follow them, so I'll see you in group, then?" Kurt nodded numbly in answer and Wes patted him on the shoulder again. "Alright, well, take it easy, Kurt."
David was about to knock on Blaine's door when Wes appeared next to him, slightly out of breath from running. He turned to the Asian boy with a curious look. "Kurt okay?" He questioned, remembering the hurt look on the pale boy's face when Blaine yelled at him.
"Yeah, yeah... Is he pissed?" Wes asked, pointing towards the door to indicate Blaine. David shrugged.
"I dunno, yet. I was just about to go in there. We're supposed to start soon anyway, so wanna…?" He trailed off and motioned the door, implying that they both go in. When the Asian boy nodded, David knocked loudly a couple times and waiting back patiently. They heard a hum in response coming from inside the room and opened the door.
Blaine was lying flat on his back on his bed, his eyes half-closed and droopy. There was a cigarette sitting lazily between his lips and both of his hands were resting on either side of him. His eyes glanced up to the two boys when they entered the room. David's eyes flew to his left arm where his sleeve was rolled up past his elbow. He opened his mouth to say something, but Blaine cut him off.
"Close the door," he mumbled around his cigarette, then moved to take a drag and pull it from his mouth to release the smoke. Wes shut the door, not taking his eyes off the boy in bed, and sat down on Blaine's roommate's bed, next to David, facing Blaine. The curly-haired took another puff and his head lolled sluggishly to the side to face the two boys. "David?" He held up a pack of cigarettes, offering one to the dark-skinned boy, who raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and moved to take one, lighting it and taking a small puff. "Wes?" He then presented the pack to the Asian boy who looked confused for a second before shaking his head. "Oh right," Blaine chuckled lowly. "Wesley quit smoking." He laughed again, tapping the ash from his smoke onto a plate on the table beside his bed.
David watched this action and his breath caught in his throat when he noticed the small piece of aluminum can and syringe laying casually on the tabletop next to a small green band of material. He jumped up and ran over to the table and fumbled quickly, disposing of the used cotton ball in the cut-off soda can bottom and turning towards the curly-haired boy who watched him with a bored haze.
"Fuck, B. You can't just leave this shit out. What if the RA – or a guard – came by to do a random check?" He rambled frantically, placing the supplies in the small box he found in the drawer and folding the carpet back, revealing the loose floor board. He pushed it up and placed the box in delicately, putting the board back in place and dropping the carpet down, like he had done so many times before. He looked at Blaine with an accusing glare and the boy simply shrugged in response and took a hit from his cigarette.
"When are the guys getting here?" He asked, not paying any attention to the other boy's worry. Both Wes and David looked a bit annoyed with their friend's behavior.
"In 15 minutes," Wes replied curtly, eyes narrowing with irritation. "Blaine, did you have to be such a dick to Kurt?" The curly-haired boy scoffed. "I'm serious, Blaine. I know you're all moody and stuff, since you started using again, but Kurt didn't do shit."
"He was having fuckin'… eye sex. With Josh Byers… He did that much." Blaine mumbled, putting out his cigarette on the plate on the table beside his bed and rolling on his side, turning away from the two boys. David's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he shared a confused look with Wes.
"Is that what that was about…? You were jealous of-"
"No, damn it!" Blaine sat up and turned to face his two friends, moving his feet off the edge of the bed. "I told you already, I don't like him." He sighed and ran a hand through his curls. "It's just… Josh is an asshole. He's an asshole, and he's a player, and if Kurt's gonna hook up with anyone, it should be me, not him." Blaine huffed, shaking his head in emphasis.
"…So…" Wes drew out the word, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. "…You…were jealous?" Blaine let out a frustrated sigh and fell onto the bed.
"Not…jealous," he eyed the boys from his position on the bed, who were giving him knowing smirks laced with amusement. "I – really! Well… I mean, not jealous like that, anyway. Just in the sense that I want to fuck him. And that I should be the one to fuck him, not someone else… Especially not Josh Byers." He said the name like it tasted badly.
"Whatever you say, B," David smirked and shared a look with Wes. Blaine sighed heavily and let his eyes flutter closed. They sat in silence for a minute or two before Blaine spoke again.
"You guys know why I can't let myself like him…" He sat up and faced them with a hurt look. "Why I can't let myself like anyone." The two boys shared a somber look, their facing falling slightly. "And there's times when I just look at him – like at the party, when we were laying on the floor and when we were dancing – when I forget about everything. And I start to flirt with him, or let myself think about him." He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing together. "And then I look down, and I see this," he held up his left arm, a bright red, fresh mark clearly visible. "And I remember why I don't drag other people into my life like that anymore. Or – or – I look around and remember we're at this place," he gestured wildly around himself, "and you get your ass kicked if you have a gay relationship around here. People see it and they want to destroy it. And if you tell someone you like them...? Those are dangerous waters to tread." He shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on his lap.
"Blaine…" The boy in question looked up to see Wes looking directly at him with a sincere expression. "You can tell yourself those things. And you can convince yourself that you don't want a relationship. But you can't help who you like, or whether or not you like anyone at all." He shrugged, sighing quietly. "And as far as telling him about what you're feeling… Out of all people, I don't think Kurt would give you anything to worry about." Blaine blinked thoughtfully, then scoffed.
"Yeah, well, last time we said that, he cut open my shoulder and stabbed himself… But maybe you're right"
Kurt stomped around campus, having a hard time appreciating the vast grounds and spacious landscaping. All his mind could focus on was Blaine and his addiction. He kicked a puddle that had pooled around the stairs near the main entrance to the office building and huffed in aggravation, walking out into a field that wandered away from main campus.
Why does he keep taking those stupid drugs that make him act like an asshole? And, more importantly, why do his friends let him destroy his body like that? Why don't they do something to make him stop?
He blinked a few times and looked up to see a few drops of rain falling. Kurt sighed, pulling his uniform blazer tighter around himself in anticipation of the rain and started sprinting towards the indoors.
Then again, here I am, not doing anything to make him stop. What do you do to make someone quit their addiction to hard drugs…?
By the time he got inside the dorm building, he was soaking wet from the weather that decided to announce itself while he was outside. Sighing, he made his way towards the junior common room, brushing the water away from his face half-heartedly, stripping himself of his blazer and wincing at the pain the movement caused in his side. He sat down on one of the large leather couches and placed his sopping wet uniform on the back of his chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his face in his hands.
Why do I care about this miserable drug-addicted bad boy? What does it matter to me if he abuses his body and has mood swings…? Kurt sighed and buried his face deeper into his hands. Who am I kidding? I fell for this guy the second I first saw him raise that damn pierced eyebrow and flash that brilliant smile.
But not just because he was a bad boy, or because his unruly, curly hair was beyond adorable, no. There was something else, something behind those honey-green eyes that went straight to his heart. Something about his face, when he let his façade fall, when he thought no one was looking, when he looked into Kurt's eyes, there was a surreal quality that he'd never imagined possible.
From the first time his skin touched mine…
He didn't feel it when he thought he was in love with Finn. He didn't see it when he had a crush on Sam. Something about this boy, this fragile, delicate, gentle boy, who tried so hard to be just the opposite. And seeing someone so fragile so close to breaking…
No. He wasn't going to have any of that.
No, absolutely not. One of these days at group, Kurt was going to call Blaine out on his problem. And he wasn't going to say what it was, because he wasn't stupid. Ratting someone out and telling a teacher that they were harboring illegal narcotics was never a good thing to do to a friend, but one of these days, maybe after he got to know him a little better, he was going to do something about this boy's problem.
But first, he needed a shower.
As Kurt headed up the stairs to his floor, a sound caught his attention. At first, he thought it was a radio or stereo, just someone playing a song in their dorms, the singer of the song the only thing audible.
Gave you all I had and you tossed it in the trash
You tossed it in the trash, you did
He shrugged it off and continued making his way to his room. I've never heard that version of that song before…The singer's voice was smooth and even. When a chorus of vocals sounded behind the singer, very slightly off-key, he froze. That wasn't the radio... He quickly made his way over to where the noise was coming from, but it stopped before he could determine which door it was originating from. Soon, a voice began speaking from the same direction the music had been coming from.
"No, no, no. That was terrible. Absolutely terrible." Why did that voice sound so familiar…?
"Shut the fuck up, Wes." Kurt's eyes widened. He approached the door he heard the voices originating from and quirked and eyebrow. It was Blaine's room. That singing voice… Surely it wasn't Blaine who was…? It did have a familiar tone to it… He reached forward and gave a good three knocks on the door. The murmur of voices that was present before ceased immediately. Kurt, determined, knocked a few times more, this time louder and with more urgency. He heard someone whisper 'Open it,' and soon came face to face with a slightly drowsy-looking Blaine.
"Kurt," he seemed surprised. His eyes flickered back to behind him, where Kurt couldn't see, and then back to the young boy's face. "What – uh – what're you doing here?" When Kurt didn't respond right away, Blaine stepped outside the room completely and closed the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against it. He looked at Kurt expectantly with an eyebrow raised. "What's up?"
Kurt was slightly taken aback by the boy's odd behavior. If he was right, and he had been in his room singing, what was the big deal? Why was he acting so sketchy? "Um, Blaine. I may be mistaken, but was that you singing a minute ago?" His reaction was instant. His eyes widened immensely and his entire body stiffened. Dropping his hands to his sides, Blaine lowered his voice slightly.
"W-what?"
"Um. I walked by and I heard singing coming from your room…" Kurt said with narrowed eyes, watching Blaine's strange response.
"Oh. That."
…
"Yeah. That. Was that you singing? I heard some other people, too." Kurt said, tilting his head slightly, trying to think back to what he heard. "But either way, it sounded pretty good. Were you guys in that singing group-?"
He was cut off when Blaine made a shushing noise, eyeing a couple of students that walked by in the hallway. When Kurt tried to turn around and follow the other boy's gaze, Blaine grabbed his forearm and opened the door behind him, yanking him inside.
"Blaine, what are you-?"
"Sorry."
Kurt looked into the room and saw the group of students he was quickly becoming acquainted with. He quirked an eyebrow. "Was that you guys singing in here…?" The boys all looked slightly embarrassed and exchanged a few nervous glances. Finally, Jeff spoke meekly.
"Y-yeah. I mean, kinda. We were kinda just doing whatever." The blonde boy nodded, looking down at his hands.
"Um… Why are you guys acting so weird about this…? Are you embarrassed to sing?" Kurt questioned hesitantly, taking in the timid expressions of the other boys. David let out a soft sigh and left his place on Blaine's bed to move to the other bed in the room, sitting next to where Kurt stood.
"Look. Kurt. In a place like this, singing isn't exactly something you want to be known for. We kind of have to keep it on the down-low now."
"Now?" Kurt repeated.
"Well, I don't know if you heard, but before the Art and Music programs were suspended, Dalton had a show choir-"
"The Warbles, right?"
David shared a small smile with Wes. "The Warblers, actually. Anyway, back when it was a choice for our extracurricular, no one really gave it any notice. Sure, I guess people thought it was kinda 'gay,' or whatever," he used air quotes. He raised an eyebrow and shot a quick look at Blaine before returning his gaze to Kurt. "No offense." Both boys shrugged. "But in general, it was just another class… Now, though," he sighed, eyes shifting to stare blankly at a place on the wall in front of him. "We have no… excuse to want to sing. So we kind of have to keep it a secret."
Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "So… You guys don't have any backup music? Obviously, your funds dropped, so… you don't have any tracks or anything?" The boys shook their heads. "Well, you should do a cappella then!" He said excitedly, clasping his hands together in front of him. Wes let out a huff.
"We are doing a cappella! Well… we're trying to anyway. Trying to sing loud enough as a whole so that we don't need any backtracks." Kurt cocked an eyebrow. He then shook his head slightly.
"No, I mean, like, real a cappella. Like, arrange the music that way. Or find music specifically made for a cappella choirs." Thad's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Like when they have guys just oohing and ahhing in the background?" He asked, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Yes! Absolutely! And they have background chorusing and – and – beat-boxing," he nodded, seeming to get excited at his own idea. "It would be fantastic! It would utilize your vocal skills wonderfully… May I ask, who was the lead singer I heard earlier?" He eyed each of the boys, until Nick stuck his thumb out in Blaine's direction. "You? Wow, Blaine, I'm impressed. It sounds like you had vocal training."
"I did," he smiled sheepishly. "When I was younger, my parents had me classically trained. I can also play a mean violin." He smirked, letting out a small chuckle that made Kurt's breath hitch. The young boy nodded, trying to clear his mind of what the noises Blaine made did to him.
"W-well, then," he cleared his throat. "I could help you guys, if you wanted. I know a few places online where you can find good arrangements. And also a few places where you can set up your own." He nodded enthusiastically. Trent looked at him with a questioning expression. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Do you sing, or something?" Trent questioned the young boy. Kurt paled. His heart sped up slightly and before he knew it, he was answering with a flat out lie.
"N-no. No, why?" He replied nervously, eyeing the bigger teen with worry obvious in his voice. Trent shrugged lightly with one shoulder, slightly taken aback by the other boy's defensive attitude.
"It just seems like you know what you're talking about," he shrugged again, glancing at the other boys in the room. Kurt sighed, running his fingers over the wet blazer he held in his hands. He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.
"I just like music."
Why he turned down the possible opportunity to be in a singing group, after being disappointed when he thought the school's choir was cancelled, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because that part of himself was still sensitive, still an open sore slowly healing. And joining another group and subjecting himself to the raw expression of emotion that came with singing was too much like putting salt on the wound. He had to let it scar before doing anything that might tear the skin again.
That following Saturday, Kurt received a call from Finn, saying that he would be stopping by to drop off some of Kurt's things from the house. Because Kurt was new, and because it was the first time he had a visitor, the meeting was set up to be held in the junior common room with an advisor present. It was around 2:30 p.m. when Finn walked in, carrying a large box and looking incredibly nervous. He was guided in by a security guard, who was also carrying a box, and after putting it down near the door, the man gestured over to Kurt.
When Finn's caught sight of Kurt, a series of emotions flickered across his face – relief that he had found someone he recognized in this unfamiliar place, shame that he had barely spoken to Kurt in months, and fear of the boy who he knew killed someone by stabbing them repeatedly in the chest.
Kurt, not fully sensing the taller boy's hesitance, leapt to his feet from where he was sitting in one of the room's leather chairs, and approached him, a small, unsure smile gracing his lips. "Finn," he breathed, eyes raking over the boy's face, mind flooding with memories of his old life. Finn stood, still holding the box in his arms with that awkward half-smile that Kurt knew so well. Now sensing his cautiousness, Kurt's face fell slightly before shifting back into a smile. "Here," he reached forward and grabbed the box from the taller boy's hands, placing it on the ground beside himself and turned back to face Finn. There was a beat of awkward silence before Kurt opened his arms up in a hug-offer and took a tiny uncertain step forward. "Can I…?" He trailed off, the unspoken words obvious.
Finn smiled timidly and nodded, reaching down to enclose the small boy in a light hug. Though once his arms were around Kurt, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the boy in tightly, relishing in the feeling he didn't know he missed. Kurt closed his eyes as well, forcing back tears that were threatening to fall. Eventually, they both pulled away. Kurt gave a nervous giggle.
"Shall we?" He made a sweeping gesture to the leather seats around the room. One of the seats near where they were standing now, close to the door, was occupied with the required advisor, simply sitting with paperwork in her hands, filing through it and marking it up. It looked like she was grading papers. She didn't give the brothers a second glance. In the far corner, two chairs were placed, facing each other at an angle. Kurt made his way over to them and Finn followed suit. They both sat down and a small beat of silence filled the room, though it wasn't awkward or tense. "So… How have you been?"
Finn nodded slowly, a contemplative look on his face. "Fine, I guess. Things have been pretty much the same since you left." He replied with a shrug. Kurt felt his chest tighten up at Finn's response. Instead of voicing his hurt, he forced a small smile and nodded.
"That's good. I'm glad…" He swallowed audibly. "How's my dad?" Kurt asked in a smaller whisper, his curiosity evident in his voice. Finn's eyes fell to the floor, his brow furrowing slightly.
"The same." Kurt knew the question and answer sounded simple enough, but they both knew what they were really talking about. The same, meaning his dad still had no desire to communicate with him. He nodded slowly, his lips pursing slightly as he tried to hide his disappointment. Finn seemed to notice. "So, how have you been? I mean, this place looks a lot better than where you were before this, right?" Kurt looked at him with a deadpan expression.
"Yes, Finn. An extravegant boarding school setting is much more pleasant than a jail cell. You're very observant." He said this with attitude, but there was a teasing light in his eyes.
"…Was that sarcasm? Because I can never really tell when you're using it." The taller boy replied, sounding honestly confused and raising an eyebrow. Kurt let a loud giggle escape his lips, and when Finn laughed in response, the young boy broke out into a full-on laugh, bending over forward and clutching his sides, missing his stepbrother's simplemindedness. When he came in contact with his injury, he let out a hiss of pain, sitting back up and wincing slightly. Finn eyed him carefully, the smile falling off his face. "Are you okay, Dude?"
"I'm fine, Finn… And don't call me 'Dude.'" Kurt let out a huff. "Honestly," he rolled his eyes.
"…No, really. Like, you have a bunch of cuts all over your face. And is that-?" he leaned closer towards Kurt's face and inspected it closely, quirking an eyebrow. "What happened to your lip?"
Kurt's hand shot up to feel the tender skin on his lip that was slowly healing. He absently stroked the scabbing flesh as his mind flashed back to the day he had received the split in his lip. A small smile played at his mouth and he let his hand fall from his face. "There…were just…these…guys-"
"Wha – guys? I – did you – did some guys rough you up?" He stuttered, lowering his voice at the last part and glancing around nervously. Kurt chuckled lightheartedly, causing Finn to become even more confused. At this puzzled look, Kurt elaborated
"Don't worry about it, Finn. It was honestly just this thing my friends did to help me out." Finn nodded, still confused, before stopping and looking at Kurt directly in the eyes. Kurt's eyes widened slightly as well at the realization. He had used the term 'my friends' to describe his group here at Dalton. It was the first time he had used it to describe kids that were not the Glee kids from McKinley. It was the first time in a while that he had to say 'my friends' to Finn, because they were usually talking about the same group of people. And it was the first time the wedge growing between him and his old life was truly obvious. And, regardless of his endearing lack of intelligence, it didn't go by unnoticed by Finn. He nodded thoughtfully after a few moments of silence.
"Well… As long as it wasn't some idiots trying to beat you up for, like, being gay, or whatever. But, uh, your…friends really messed your face up…? To… help you out…?" Finn's eyebrows furrowed together, like he was really trying his best to imagine a situation where that could be true. He seemed to come up with nothing, because he blinked a couple times and then gave Kurt an expectant look. The young boy nodded with an unsure smile on his face.
"It's… a long story, Finn. And I know it sounds bad, but the guys here – well my friends here, anyway – are really not that bad. They're a little… rough around the edges," he smiled, "but they're good guys…" Finn nodded in response and there were a few moments of comfortable silence between the two brothers.
"Well, that's good, then. Just, uh, watch out for yourself around here, okay?" Kurt rose to his feet, feeling the end of their short visit nearing, and Finn quickly followed suit. "Mercedes misses you a lot." He offered randomly. Kurt's eyes shifted to the floor, a fond smile growing on his face.
"I miss her, too… I miss everyone." Kurt looked back up to face his stepbrother and offered him another hug, which the taller boy took. They stood there for a few, long moments, simply embracing.
"We all miss you, bro," Finn mumbled into the top of Kurt's head, his arms still wrapped around the smaller boy. "And…we all…like, still love you, too. After everything that happened." They broke apart and Finn looked into Kurt's eyes, a little bit of an awkward smile on his lips. "I still… love you, Kurt." Kurt smiled at the extremely uncomfortable look he was receiving from his stepbrother, but nodded slowly.
"I love you too, Finn." The other boy seemed to look relieved that his awkward stepbrother-ly confession of love was reciprocated. He nodded slightly, a smile appearing on his face.
"Cool. Do – uh – do you want some help moving this stuff up to your room?" Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise, seeming to have forgotten the real reason Finn had stopped by.
"Oh. Right. Um, sure. Thanks, Finn." Kurt turned to get the box he had left near the advisor woman, who seemed to have left at some point, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a curious-looking Blaine, one eyebrow raised, holding a large canvas bag in front of him and clearly watching the two boys' interaction. "Oh... Blai-"
"Kurt!" He was cut off when Wes ran into the room, stopping beside Blaine and yanking the bag out of his hands. He was followed shortly by a very excited Nick and Jeff. Jeff grabbed the freshly-snatched bag from Wes's hands and held it up triumphantly.
"We stole some stuff from the confiscation box!" The blonde-haired boy declared proudly. Finn, who had stepped up beside Kurt, eyed his brother questioningly. The pale boy sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Seeming to not notice his reaction, Nick began rifling through the bag's contents.
"There were like, knives and booze in there! We got the booze, left the knives. For the general safety of everyone, no offense… Oh! And we got the gay porn that was in there! Do you want it?" The dark-haired boy looked at Kurt with an excited expression. Kurt sunk his face into his hands and let out a muffled groan. Next to him, Finn let out an amused giggle.
"That reminds me. All that porn that was under your mattress is in those boxes I brought. Thought you might need those. The guy who searched the boxes when I came in didn't take them. But he did take your bondage pants." Kurt drew his hands slowly away from his face to reveal his expression of horror-mixed-with-disbelief. His mouth hung open in shock. Before he could talk, Finn continued. "You know, the ones with all the little chains and strappy things-"
"Finn!" Kurt yelled, looking at the shocked, amused faces of his friends standing in front of them. Blaine had on his signature expression of slightly-amused-though-curious, complete with the cocked pierced eyebrow. Kurt sighed with irritation. "Just – just go! I'll move the boxes into my room myself!" Finn nodded, slightly realizing he had embarrassed his brother. He shrugged and began walking towards the exit of the building.
"Uh, whatever. Just… actually answer your phone once in a while… Later!" And with that, he was gone, out the door. Kurt stared blankly after him and gave a weak wave, blinking, still in disbelief. He turned to face his friends. Wes opened his mouth with a smile, about to say something, but Kurt cut him off.
"Don't even say it! Just one of you grab that box over there." Kurt pointed to the box near the door and went to retrieve the other one near where the advisor was sitting. When did she leave, anyway…? He turned around to see Nick struggling to carry the heavy box, his face twisted in effort.
"Shit, Kurt. How much kinky, gay bondage porn do you have in here?"
"I can't believe Finn tried to bring my bondage shorts," Kurt moaned, covering his face. He shook his head and removed his hands, sliding down the wall of the Arts Building with a sigh.
"Didn't know you were kinky like that, Hummel." David said with an amused smile, standing next to him as he lit his cigarette.
"Shut up." Kurt smacked his leg from his sitting position, then raised his chin haughtily. "I purchased those shorts solely for fashion purposes. There was no kinky business involved, whatsoever." The boys all laughed in response.
"Sure, bro." Trent replied with a chuckle and Kurt huffed. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as the boys all relaxed, enjoying their free afternoon before dinner started. Blaine eyed Kurt from where he was standing next to David and cleared his throat, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the ground.
"So, Kurt," the young boy looked at Blaine with curiosity, "you and Finn seem pretty close," he commented coolly. Kurt smiled with fondness and the curly-haired boy raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. In freshman year we were hardly acquaintances, but then last year when we-" He cut himself off. There was no need to tell these boys he was in Glee club. Not yet. Not until he was ready to reopen that part of himself. "We're… really close now. Well… it's sort of hard to be close to anyone now, but, you know what I mean."
Blaine nodded slowly, looking at the ground as he lit another cigarette and took a puff. "I heard him saying he loved you, and everything." He eyed Kurt, watching for his reaction. The young boy giggled at the memory and shook his head slightly, causing Blaine to give him a questioning look.
"I – yeah. He looked so scared saying it. It was kind of hilarious." Kurt's smile grew, his eyes crinkling up slightly at the corners, remembering his awkward stepbrother's admission of brotherly love.
"…Why was he scared to say that?" Wes wondered out loud from his spot sitting next to Kurt. The pale boy shrugged slightly with one shoulder and brought his knees up to hug them.
"He's just never really said it outright to me like that before. And he's really awkward when it comes to stuff like that." Kurt laughed, then stared into the empty field in front of them. His nose caught a particularly strong whiff of smoke and he gagged. "Okay. I get trying to come off as a badass and everything, but do you guys really need to smoke this much? I mean seriously," he waved his hand in front of his nose, "I bet you all have so much tar in your lungs. You four smoke way too much." Jeff snorted in response.
"Aw, come on, Kurt! You know you waaant one!" The blonde boy took a cigarette from his pack and waved it teasingly in front of the other boy's face, who just swatted it away.
"No! I most positively do not want one! Those things would ruin my-" voice. "You guys know those things ruin your voice, right?" Kurt gave them all a defiant glare. Next to him, Wes clapped his hands together and looked excited.
"That is the smartest thing I have ever heard. We should all quit smoking! Guys, come on! You heard Kurt! Those things can ruin your voices!" The Asian boy seemed overly enthusiastic and Kurt raised an eyebrow, questioning the other boy's sanity. Thad pulled his cigarette from his mouth and looked at it with mock-horror.
"Oh my God. Cigarettes are… are bad for you? Wesley is right, you guys! We should all quit and – wait… No, I meant to say, fuck off Asian boy and let me enjoy my damn nicotine." The dark-haired boy leaned against the wall and took a drag of his cigarette and blew it deliberately down into the Asian boy's face. Wes huffed and mumbled angry, incoherent words. Kurt continued to eye them all curiously, but shrugged it off.
"Well, anyway," Kurt began, changing the subject, "speaking of voices, are there any other people you guys can think of that might want to join the Warblers?" Nick gave him a disbelieving look.
"Kurt. We're not the Warblers. We just sing."
"Of course you're the Warblers. Just not… official, per say. But still the Warblers… Anyway, answer my question." The boys all glanced at each other and shrugged.
"Most of the guys from group were in the Warblers back when it was the class, but I don't know if they'd want to do it now." David replied, looking contemplative. "Why does it matter?"
"Well, if we have 12 members, we can host an invitational and compete in the sectional competition in a couple months, right? Maybe if we start an official club, they'll let us use the Arts room, and we can get other people to-"
"Sorry, Kurt. They won't put out funding for a club unless we have something to show for it. We already tried this at the beginning of the year when classes first started." Blaine gave him an apologetic look and shrugged. One of Kurt's eyebrows shot up and his face shifted to a look of confusion.
"…'Something to show for it'?"
"Yeah. Like, if we're able to perform a show or put on an invitational-"
"And how are we supposed to do that without funding?" Kurt demanded harshly, throwing his arms up in exasperation. The boys sighed in response, looking troubled.
"Exactly," David replied, nodding his head solemnly. "But, I guess we can still sing for fun, right? Even if we don't get anything for it."
"No. No, we are going to get more members. And we're gonna put on an invitational and go to sectionals. Without their stupid funding." Kurt decided firmly.
"And how do propose we do that with our lack of money and place to practice? As much as I love singing in Blaine's cramped dorm, I don't think 12 guys are gonna fit in there." Wes asked sarcastically.
"Well, you break into the Arts Building when you party, right? Why can't we just use it?" Kurt suggested casually, sticking his thumb behind him to the wall, motioning towards the room. David dropped his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it under his foot. He ran his hand over the top of his head in thought, sighing. The dark-skinned boy slid down the wall next to Kurt and turned to face him.
"What about music? The Arts room has a piano, but it's hardly loud enough to backup an entire choir of guys. Do you really think we could pull off a cappella?" David asked him seriously. Kurt's lips twitched up in a mischievous smile.
"Absolutely. And don't worry about the music. I'll take care of it."
"And so it's like… One side of the equation has a square root… So you have to square both sides to get rid of it." Blaine spoke slowly, eyeing the other boy and seeing his confused reaction. Thad narrowed his eyes.
"Can't you just find the square root of what's inside and then you don't have to do that?"
"Well… theoretically, yes, but since it's not a perfect square and have to work each part of the expression separately-"
"Fuck it. I'm done. This is stupid. Let's go back to working on the theme thing for Mr. Goff." Thad closed his math book and notebook passionately and slid it across the floor where they were sprawled out on their stomachs, doing homework. Blaine let out a low chuckle.
"If you say so. It's not me fuckin' failing. Besides, I'm already done with the theme analysis." He laughed, watching Thad drop his head into his crossed arms exasperatedly, only bringing it back up to glare at him.
"Fuck you, B. You're too smart," the dark-haired boy grumbled, picking up his novel and filing through the pages absently. "Seriously. You get, like, A's and B's in everything. Fuck you." Blaine laughed in response, sitting up to grab something from his backpack and offer it to Thad. It was an open pack of cigarettes.
"Smoke away the troubles, my friend. Just embrace the nicotine." He giggled, taking one out when the other boy didn't move to do it himself. He presented the stick to Thad who accepted it immediately and held it in his left hand as he scribbled something on a notebook with his right.
"Thanks," he mumbled, eyes flickering to Blaine as the boy placed the pack in his bag after drawing one out for himself. He lit his own and then held the flame of his lighter out to Thad. After taking a quick puff, the dark-haired boy watched Blaine do the same. "Maybe we do smoke too much," he laughed, causing Blaine to break out into a fit of giggles himself.
The door swung open a few minutes later and neither boy took their attention away from their homework. Kurt walked in, glancing down at the two momentarily. "Hello, Thad. Blaine." He raised an eyebrow at the latter, taking in his face of immense concentration as he scribbled on his paper hastily. The cigarette in his left hand was burning away, ash threatening to fall. At the sound of his name being called, Blaine glanced up to see the pale boy giving him a curious look, and flashed a small smile.
"Hey, Kurt." And then he was back to focusing solely on his assignment which, upon closer inspection, Kurt recognized as the French translations that were due Tuesday. Kurt sat on the edge of his bed and watched the two boys working frantically, and smiled.
"What are you guys up to?" Thad glanced up, seeming to only now notice his roommate's presence.
"I needed help with Algebra 2, and Blaine needed help with French, so I told him to come over. But I'm working on English now." Kurt couldn't get over the fact that his roommate sounded like an innocent kindergartener describing his assignment to his mother. Kurt nodded, then stopped and narrowed his eyes.
"But you're not in French, Thad." Blaine snorted, not taking his eyes away from his assignment.
"Shows how much I pay attention in that class. Ha! Done!" He closed his book triumphantly and held his paper up, as if challenging anyone to deny his finished assignment. He stood up and collapsed face first onto Thad's bed, his cigarette still dangerously heavy with ash, hanging off the side of the bed in his hand.
"For God's sake, Blaine," Kurt walked over and took the empty soda can from the table beside Thad's bed and held it under the offending cigarette. He tapped it himself and the ash fell into the makeshift ashtray he'd seen his roommate use on many occasions. The boy on the bed raised his head and watched Kurt's actions with a curious expression. "You're going to get that nasty stuff all over my carpet," Kurt shook his head with a huff. Blaine chuckled and sat up, flipping over to sit against the pillows.
"Like Thad doesn't get ash on everything. Look at him right now." He gestured to the boy still on the floor, who was moving his hand away from his book to tap his cigarette onto the carpet. Kurt groaned and rolled his eyes, ignoring Blaine's giggles that made him squirm.
"Don't they care?" Kurt questioned as he tried to clean up the spot of ash from the rug. Thad closed his novel and notebook, seemingly done with his assignment, and stood up, leaving Kurt to attempt to clean up his mess.
"Who? About what?" Thad asked, shooing Blaine from his bed so he could lie down. Blaine scooted off the bed and onto Kurt's, sprawling out his arms and legs.
Kurt turned around to elaborate on his question and took in the sight of the boy on his bed. He sighed and rolled his eyes and took a seat on the edge of his bed, next to Blaine's feet, trying to hide the blush that came with being in such close proximity with this boy. "The guards. Or security, or whatever. That you guys smoke all the time. When they came in to do rounds last week, they didn't confiscate your cigarettes." Both boys laughed in response and Kurt quirked an eyebrow.
"They don't care about these," Blaine waved around the remainder of the smoke in his hand. "They care if we have, like, hard drugs and stuff. Which is why you gotta hide that stuff really good." He winked and Thad rolled his eyes.
"Kurt. Maybe you haven't noticed, but this place is basically a big scam. Our rich parents get expensive lawyers that convince people that we need a solid learning environment while we're counseled on bettering our behavior and criminal problems." He rolled his eyes. "And from the outside, this place is like a fricken' majestic, well-off, attractive prep school that just happens to be here to do correctional services on our state's 'troubled youth.'" He used air quotes.
"And the tax payers don't care that they're paying so much for this place because most of the money is used to make it look like we've got it all together, so they think it's doing great things. The huge campus, the nice lounges and dorm rooms,-"
"The uniforms." Thad added and Blaine nodded and continued.
"But really, this place is so corrupt that it's not even funny." Blaine took one last drag of his cigarette and plopped the butt into the soda can with a contemplative look on his face. "Well, it's kinda funny. At least for us. Because they don't even really check the visitors that come by, which is why we can get our drugs, and cigs, and booze and basically whatever else we want. It's like they think if we have the things that we want, we won't be too rebellious. Which I guess is sort of true… I mean, they send the visitors through metal detectors, so they can make sure no one brings weapons in… And they check packages of stuff, which is probably why they searched those boxes your boyfriend brought in yesterday-"
"My boyfriend?" Kurt squeaked. He gave the two boys looks of disbelief with wide eyes. Thad glanced at Blaine with a confused expression.
"Yeah, that Fred guy or whatever. Finn. Yeah, that Finn guy." Thad looked at Kurt with a cocked eyebrow, taking in his wide-eyed, shocked expression. The boy suddenly burst out into a fit of giggles, bending over and letting his head fall down as he shook with laughter.
"That's – that's my – that's – my brother!" He said through laughter, shaking his head with amusement. Blaine sat up slightly from his position on Kurt's bed and gave him a suspicious look.
"He didn't look anything like you…"
"Yeah, Blaine. He's my stepbrother. Christ… I mean, trust me, there was certainly a time that I thought about Finn in – in that way, but," he let out another small giggle, "our parents are married now." Thad and Blaine looked at each other, obvious surprise on each of their faces. Thad made a hum of acknowledgement and a smirk graced his lips.
"Huh. Well, that certainly simplifies the plans of certain people – ouch!" Blaine threw a pillow from Kurt's bed to hit the dark-haired boy in the face. "Manners, Blaine. Sheesh."
"Oh, fuck off, Thad. It was a pillow."
"Well, yeah, but the little corner hit my eye…" He pouted, picking at the corner of said pillow with his fingers. Kurt watched this exchange and blinked, confused.
"Wait… What plans are we talking about?"
"Nothing," Blaine replied quickly to Kurt, and then turned to Thad with narrowed eyes. "Nothing." Thad smirked in response and Kurt raised an eyebrow, blushing at the way Blaine turned bright red.
Ding! ding! ding!
"Come on, guys!" Kurt tapped the piano key again, looking slightly annoyed. He sighed and stood up, moving towards Trent and pushing his shoulders back, straightening out his posture. "Keep your back straight and your stomach," he pushed slightly on the boy's stomach, "in." He walked back and sat down at the piano. "Let's start from the beginning."
He started on lower notes and waited for the group of seven boys to hit the note before moving his way up the scale. Kurt paused slightly before hitting the note that the boys kept getting stuck on. He eyed the key and tapped on it loudly.
Ding! ding! ding!
"Ahhh!" They chorused, hitting the note perfectly. Kurt beamed, showing a tiny bit of teeth in his smile, which was unusual for him.
"Excellent!"
Kurt watched the proud faces of the boys before him, realizing how little these boys probably got any praise at all. At a place like Dalton, so little was expected of you, and yet, when you did something right, they acted like it wasn't good enough. So much was taken away from these boys, from himself as well. Family, friends, familiarity. They were thrown into this alien world, regardless of whether or not they deserved it, and were stripped of all things they knew and the way of life they understood. Whether or not they admitted it, which, Kurt was sure, most of them would never, all they wanted was some kind of acknowledgement, recognition, someone to tell them that they were doing something, anything right in this new place. That they were doing something right at all.
"Really, you guys. That was really good." Kurt nodded, watching the light in each of their faces shine again, taking special note in the boy with the dark curly hair and hazel eyes.