To: Kurt Hummel
I tried calling you, it went to voicemail.
From: Kurt Hummel
I know. Sorry. We're not suppose to take personal calls at work. Well, the interns aren't.
To: Kurt Hummel
It's fine. Look, I'm really sorry about Dale. I don't know what I was thinking.
From: Kurt Hummel
Yeah, where did you pick him up? I'd like to know in case I ever need a blonde neanderthal of my own.
From: Kurt Hummel
Sorry. That was mean.
To: Kurt Hummel
It's okay. I deserved it. I promise, he won't be around anymore.
From: Kurt Hummel
Blaine, I don't care who you date. Just warn me next time before you decide to host a face-eating competition.
To: Kurt Hummel
Sorry, sorry, sorry. I really didn't think he was going to kiss me.
From: Kurt Hummel
You clearly underestimate the libido of our gender.
To: Kurt Hummel
Well, I know I'm irresistible. But most people are able to restrain themselves.
From: Kurt Hummel
Not football-loving frat boys.
From: Kurt Hummel
Why did you date him, anyway? Doesn't seem your type.
To: Kurt Hummel
I thought you didn't care who I dated?
From: Kurt Hummel
I don't. Innocent curiosity.
To: Kurt Hummel
It's a long story. One that can't exactly be explained over text messaging. Can we meet?
From: Kurt Hummel
Sure. Come to the superior court tomorrow around noon. The case I'm sitting in on will be in recess for lunch.
To: Kurt Hummel
Okay. See you tomorrow!
When Blaine arrived Kurt was sitting on the courthouse steps, neatly picking at a green salad. He looked up, smiling. Blaine felt weak in the knees.
Keep it together, Anderson.
"Hey, Kurt," he said, sitting beside down and handing the other a latte. "I brought coffee."
Kurt nodded in and took a sip. "I see that. Thanks."
They sat like that for a moment, both staring out at the busy streets, before Blaine sighed. "Dale...he's really not my type. At all. But he pretty much courted me for a month and a half, and I finally agreed to a date. He was smart, funny, nothing like what I expected. Until he cheated on me. Everyone warned me about him, but I didn't listen."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Okay, first of all, I don't see how that fits in with you agreeing to another round of tonsil hockey."
"It doesn't fit. There's no excuse for cheating, I know, but I felt bad. We had a good thing, at least for a little while, and I didn't want him to think that he never meant anything to me. Or that I was a cold-hearted bastard who couldn't give second chances." He thought about it. "Well, technically fourth chances."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "You and your pathological need to please everyone you meet." Blaine started to splutter in protest, but Kurt continued. "Second of all, that was not a long story. That could have been typed out on your phone quite easily with the use of some handy acronyms." When Blaine didn't answer, he went on. "Blaine, I don't care. If you want to meet, you just have to ask. I'm not going to force you out of my life." The younger boy was blushing too, and set down his salad. "You're actually growing on me," he mumbled, and Blaine grinned.
"What'd you say? Didn't quite catch that."
Kurt punched him in the shoulder, laughing. "I said you're growing on me, you jerk. Don't make me recant the statement." The laughter faded, and their gazes both fell to the ground. Slowly, Blaine started to inch his hand towards Kurt's, wondering why this had seemed so much easier when he was nine, and then-
"Kurt, the trial's starting up again in ten minutes. We need you back in the courtroom."
Blaine gave a low groan and resisted the urge to bang his head on the concrete.
Kurt turned to give the woman at the top of the steps a quick smile. "Sure, Kelly. Be right there." Once she'd left, he looked at Blaine apologetically. "Sorry. Duty calls."
Blaine shrugged, standing. "I will survive."
"I swear, Blaine, if you start singing Gloria Gaynor on the steps of the LA Superior Court, I will castrate you with a plastic fork."
"Oh, empty threats. You think I'm charming."
Kurt kissed him on the cheek so quickly he could have missed it, except for the pleasant tingle it left on his skin. "That may be. But i'm not ready for that level of embarrassment quite yet." He was gone back into the courthouse with a brush of his hand against Blaine's own, and Blaine sunk back down. Maybe it was fate, maybe he should have seen it coming. But he had definitely fallen for Kurt Hummel again.
To: Kurt Hummel
So, I got roped into a party tonight that I'd really like to skip, but no such luck. Would you maybe think about coming with?
From: Kurt Hummel
What kind of party? I have a lot of work to do.
To: Kurt Hummel
A college one.
From: Kurt Hummel
Ooh, aren't we mysterious. I don't know if I can come to a party where my virtues might be compromised.
To: Kurt Hummel
I promise, I shall defend your virtues with my life.
From: Kurt Hummel
I can do my own defending, thank you very much. :P Will Mr. Tongue be in attendance?
To: Kurt Hummel
He may or may not be. Which may or may not be why I absolutely need you there with me.
From: Kurt Hummel
Using your ex as an excuse is not generally the best way to pick up a date.
To: Kurt Hummel
I would never do that! I mean..Kurt! Really! :( Is that what you think of me?
From: Kurt Hummel
Blaine. Calm down. I was joking. Do you always get this flustered when someone
questions your intentions? Actually, don't answer that. Yes, I will come with you, but I expect lots of lattes in the near future.
To: Kurt Hummel
Right. Sorry. Okay, thank you so much. I'll pick you up tonight at 10. Thank you! Lattes are on me until the end of time.
Sigma Alpha Epsilon was rumored to be the craziest fraternity house on campus. Blaine could tell you that most of the rumors were absolutely true. (Except for the one about the pony and the tranny stripper, that was crap) He had been dating Dale long enough to hear the steady flow of stories and had been at enough of the parties to see them for himself. (Never actually taking part, Dale had been sweet and loyal enough at the time to ensure that) The parties weren't always wild, but you could never be sure, which was why Blaine was rather reluctant about being roped into another one via several complicated favors he owed. He felt guilty about getting Kurt to come, but he needed someone to talk to that would not get completely hammered and make drunken attempts at flirting with him all night.
So, Blaine thought that he should probably say something, but his brain pretty much short-circuited when Kurt walked out of his apartment building. He was dressed in another pair of skinny jeans, dark denim and tighter than the ones before. On top was a dark green t-shirt layered with a white cardigan. His outfit did him much more justice than his suits, and Blaine wished that he could see Kurt dressed like this every day.
Kurt climbed into the cab Blaine had called, smiling. "Hello."
"...guh."
"I'm sorry?"
Blaine coughed, handed the address to the driver, and sat back. "Sorry. Something in my throat." Kurt's eyebrows didn't come back down from his hairline. Blaine was becoming flustered. "Well...hi! You look...you look great!"
"..thanks. You look pretty good yourself."
Blaine was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black and white plaid shirt. He didn't pay very much attention to clothes, but he wasn't a slob, either. He smiled at the compliment. "Thanks, Kurt." There was a beat of silence between them, and then Kurt spoke up.
"Blaine...exactly how wild is this party going to be?"
Blaine swallowed. "I don't know."
Kurt sighed. "Should I be worried? Will there be any highly illegal substances that could lead to my arrest?"
Blaine laughed. "No. Sigma Alpha Epsilon is wild, but they would never do anything that would endanger their attendance at UCLA." He thought about it. "Well, almost never. Just stay away from any open drinks."
The loud rap music could already be heard as the two walked up the pathway to the party. The door opened before they even reached it, and a red-haired boy with a shit-eating grin greeted them. "Hey, Blaine and co. Welcome to the party."
"It's not like you gave me much of a choice, is it, Chad?"
The grin didn't fade. "C'mon. I thought we were friends? Don't friends help each other out by joining the cleanup crew at each other's parties?"
Blaine made a face and shoved past Chad, Kurt following. Inside was dark, people mingling around the kitchen. But the real party was in the basement, as it revealed itself to be the origin of the music. Kurt started down the stairs, tightly holding to Blaine's arm,(there were several unknown substances on the stairs, and he didn't want to slip) but releasing it as soon as they were on level ground again. His quick, beautiful eyes surveyed the scene before them, which consisted of several wallflowers circling around the edges of the dance floor and the dancers themselves, one grinding mass moving in time with the beat.
Blaine raised his voice enough to be heard over the music. "So. This okay?"
Kurt shrugged. "Blaine, it's fine. It looks like a high school party."
Blaine huffed. "Believe me, parties here used to be much wilder. I'm not sure what happened."
"Maybe the people that make it wild just haven't showed up yet."
Kurt's prediction turned out to be very true. As the night wore on, some of the more popular guys from the frat arrived. The atmosphere instantly changed, and Blaine felt like he was breathing in drugs and alcohol just by being present. Several games of beer pong were going on upstairs and downstairs, along with keg stands and chugging marathons. Some people were disappearing, finding a suitable room with whatever partner they had chosen. Blaine was in very bad mood, having had to clean out a vase and scrub a carpet that had been puked on. (Kurt had made him promise to explain his obligation later) But he was in an especially bad mood right now, sipping his fourth beer beer and watching Kurt dance.
The brunette was grinding with two college girls who seemed to think he was the cutest thing in existence, drawing the attention of every man and woman in the room. And Kurt was good. Blaine could admit that the sudden tightness in his jeans wasn't a coincidence. Being bitter and turned on wasn't the greatest combination, and he was about to go and get some fresh air when a familiar blonde giant came down the stairs. A very drunk blonde giant. Blaine groaned. He hadn't called Dale yet, putting off telling him that he was no longer interested in a relationship as for as long as he could. He felt bad. But there was no putting it off now.
Dale practically staggered towards him. "Hey, baby," he slurred, "Whassup? You never...never called me.."
Blaine stifled a groan. "Look, Dale. The other night, I wasn't thinking straight. I'm not interested in being in a relationship with you." He waited, but to his surprise Dale didn't seem upset. Of course, he was drunk. Instead, Dale just chuckled and tried to grab Blaine's shoulder. Blaine neatly stepped out of the way.
"C'mon, babe, y'don't mean that..."
"Yes, Dale, I really do. Now if you'll excuse me..." he set down his beer and slipped past Dale, desperate for fresh air. He noticed was the tablet that was dropped in the open bottle.
When Blaine came back, the music had changed. Someone had put on a sugary pop song, which the guys didn't mind as long as it led to the hottest dancers shaking their hips just a bit more. Kurt was dancing with another Sigma Alpha Epsilon boy, an Abercrombie and Fitch model with spiked hair and expensive, douche-y clothing. Blaine wished that it was him instead.
Maybe it was time for him to make a move. He didn't have two left feet, not by a long shot, and maybe it would be enough to bring Kurt to him. Grabbing his beer, he downed the rest of in one gulp and made his way to the dance floor.
Kurt noticed within a few minutes and came over, smiling. "Took you long enough. I thought you were just going to skulk and drink beer for the entire time." Then, his eyes caught sight of Dale, and he sighed. "Don't tell me you just came over here to escape Blonde Wonder."
Blaine shook his head fervently. "No, I want to dance." He grinned. "I got pretty sick of you hogging the spotlight. Figured it was my turn."
Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, we'll just have to see about that."
They danced together for a little while, Blaine feeling looser and looser. He could tell that both of them had to rely on some old moves from high school, moves he supposed both came from their respective glee clubs. It was fun, but he was getting a little dizzy.
"Kurt, I need to sit..."
Kurt looked at him, concerned. "Alright. Do you need help? Are you going to be sick?"
Blaine honestly didn't know, he felt like his entire body was becoming weightless and things were beginning to spin around. Kurt was still in front of him, and Blaine looked him over. Those lips, those perfect, pink lips, were just so... With a sudden surge of aggression, he swooped forward and sealed their mouths together, a hard kiss that was completely lacking of passion or feeling, just lust. Kurt kissed him back for a split second before shoving him away, eyes wide and angry. Blaine barely felt the slap, but it sent him stumbling.
"What the hell was that?" Kurt cried.
"That was me, doing whatever the hell I want. I want you, Kurt." God, this felt good, just saying whatever without worrying about consequences.
Kurt's mouth fell open in shock. The two girls he had been dancing with before appeared on either side of him. "Is something going on, Kurt?" The younger boy just stared at Blaine for another second before sniffing and turning away.
"No. Let's dance some more, girls." He was gone again, and Blaine wanted to call him back, except he was so dizzy he couldn't stand up straight. He suddenly found himself supported by two large hands.
"C'mon, babe." The words whispered in his ear were hot and slurred, but Blaine let himself be led up the stairs to the main part of the house. The people they passed were a blur, and before long he was being dropped on a bed. Wet, sloppy kisses were pressed up his collarbone to his mouth, tasting like beer and sweat. The body above rubbed their groins together, moaning, and Blaine instinctively moved with the rhythm. He bucked, hitting his skull off of the headboard, but not really feeling it.
"Y'like it rough? Then I'll give it to you rough."
Hands were tugging at his belt buckle, and Blaine dimly thought that he should protest, but he couldn't make himself move. Those hands were slipping down, down, down...until he felt hot fire and bit his lip so hard it started to bleed.
There was a loud crash as the door swung open and light flooded the room.
"Get off of him, you overgrown primate!" Blaine wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but there was a grunt and the body above him crashed to the floor. Small, dainty hands pawed at him, trying to lift him up. (Kurt?)
"Blaine, please. We have to go. Please try to stand." He did, but he was a bit wobbly, and had to hold on to the dresser when Kurt let go of him.
"Dale. Just let us pass. I won't call the police, just let me take Blaine home."
"No. He was...he was gonna be with me.." Kurt fell on the bed and those huge hands reached for Blaine again.
"I said no!"
There was a grunt of pain, a crash, and the hands were gone. Kurt hurriedly put Blaine's arm around his shoulder. "Blaine, I just assaulted someone, and we really need to be going."
That was when Blaine blacked out.
He came to in short spurts of consciousness the next morning, first being aware of a body curled around his, the pain of sunlight when he tried to crack one eye open, and the way his mouth tasted like something had curled up and died in it. At one point he was spasming, at another dry-heaving, but there was always a pair of cool hands calming him back into stillness. And then, when he woke once more, he realized that he could hear the strains of a song over the sound of the shower.
"It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain how I feel
That I still need your love after all that I've done
You won't believe me
All you will see is a girl you once knew
Although she's dressed up to the nines
At sixes and sevens with you
I had to let it happen, I had to change
Couldn't stay all my life down at heel
Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun
So I chose freedom
Running around, trying everything new
But nothing impressed me at all
I never expected it to,"
It was beautiful, the song, the voice. Like an angel, floated across Blaine's mind, and he laid there with closed eyes and listened.
"Don't cry for me Argentina
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days
My mad existence
I kept my promise
Don't keep your distance
And as for fortune, and as for fame
I never invited them in
Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired
They are illusions
They are not the solutions they promised to be
The answer was here all the time
I love you and hope you love me,"
Even in his slightly comatose state, Blaine could recognize when a singer really meant what he was singing. And this angelic voice most definitely did. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard such raw emotion poured into a song.
"Don't cry for me Argentina
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days
My mad existence
I kept my promise
Don't keep your distance
Have I said too much?
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you.
But all you have to do is look at me to know
That every word is true."
Blaine waited, and realized the song was over. And that Kurt had song the song. Thinking about Kurt and how he felt for the younger boy made his head hurt. He was so confused. He tried to open his eyes, but a fresh wave of nausea came on and he instinctively reached for the bucket by the bed. Kurt came running out of the bathroom, pulling his curls out of his eyes and whispering soothing words. When it had passed, he helped Blaine back on to the pillows, whispering softly into his ear.
"I have to go to work, Blaine. Make sure you drink plenty of water, eat something if you can stomach it. Wes and David will be here as soon as they can."
Blaine sank back into a blissful, painless sleep.