A/N: Hey guys! I have almost no excuse as to why it's Sunday again, and I'm updating today. I feel like a bad person. Other than the fact that this chapter is ridiculously long, and my beta didn't get back to me until really late last night, uh, yeah. No excuse. BUT IT'S HERE NOW! :D Originally, I wanted Competition Week to only be one chapter, but it ran away with me, and now it's going to me two parts. I hope not three, but you never know.
As for other things, "Heart". Well um. I don't know. I love Samuel Larson's character, Joe. I think the God Squad is funny, and it's cute. As for Brittana... well... ASDFGHJKL! THEY KISSED. I was pissed that Klaine didn't get a kiss and every other couple did though... :( Also, "Love Shack" made my night. I squealed like a little girl, and when Blaine pulled Kurt by the tie... oh dear. I was just freaking out. It was a good episode, but I saw the Karofsky thing coming when I saw Max Alder's name on the screen.
As for "On My Way" I am so nervous it's not even funny. I'm so excited for "Cough Syrup" because it's one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite band and my favorite character singing it. So yeah. But I'm freaking out because I've heard so many rumors that Blaine and Kurt are breaking up and if they do I will cry. For days. They better not, or I'll hunt down with RIB and torment them until they fix it. And I also heard that Quinn's gonna get in a car crash? I don't really want that either. God, I'm freaking out.
So, now that I rambled:
Chapter Eight: Competition Week Part I
"Ladies, we have to meet up for coffee at least once this week. I'm going to have nothing to do! Blaine, Thad, Jeff, Nick, Wes, and David are all at least on one of the teams! I'll be so bored! I mean, it's not like the have Sai here, or cheerleading, hell, they don't even have football!"
"Okay, White Boy, we promise to entertain you!" Mercedes' voice came through the computer, sounding muffled from the poor quality that Skype was giving them.
"Good. I mean, I'm definitely going to watch the actual competitions, but practice, I mean, that'll get a little boring, don't you think?"
"I don't know, hon, you've got some pretty fine boys at that school of yours, and I doubt you'd mind a sweaty Blaine."
"I'd have to agree," Rachel interjected. "Now that Finn and I are no longer together - although I know he'll take me back soon enough - I can shamelessly look at pictures on Facebook - not in a creepy way, or as a spy, no, just to see who you're spending your time with - Kurt, he is very good looking."
"I know, but this is the entire week, girls!" Kurt exclaimed. "I will go to every game, and maybe a few practices, but this is going to be nonstop for a whole five days. Teachers don't even assign homework because it's such a big event!"
"Damn," Mercedes uttered. "It must be a really big deal."
"Oh, it is. It's another Dalton tradition to have Competition Week the third week in December, and then have half of the week after before school lets out for Winter Holidays. It's a huge deal."
"Interesting," Rachel thought aloud. "How long has this school been around again?
"I don't remember. I'll ask Wes later. He knows," Kurt said glancing to the top corner of his computer screen, checking the time. He noticed how late it already was, and he still had to complete his weekend homework. "Alright, girls, I have to go, physics calls me, but I'll text you two about a date for coffee. Sound good?"
"Fabulous," Mercedes responded as Rachel nodded.
"Okay, I love you both, have a nice evening!"
"You too, Kurt," Rachel exclaimed.
Kurt hit the red 'end call' button, and hung up, staring blankly at his computer screen. It was already growing late, and he still had to complete all of his homework. It was Sunday evening, and it had already been two weeks since the Warblers' tie at Sectionals. The rest of the party had just been Jesse and Cameron's usual antics, (bad) dancing, singing, kissing - well at least for Kurt and Blaine, and Nick and Jeff - jokes, and laughter. And of course, Kurt had watched Jeff slap Flint. That had been priceless. The month had progressed, with the weather growing colder and the snow coming. Kurt robotically reached for his physics textbook and opened it up to the page he needed to complete, but nothing came to him. He looked down at the formulas and words in from of him, but he made no move for a pencil and paper to write down anything.
His thoughts were otherwise occupied. They were very, very, very distracting thoughts. Kurt knew two things. There some very great things about going to an all boys school, and then there were some very bad ones - especially for teenage gay boy. Competition Week held both of those things. On the plus side, there were going to be lots of very attractive boys - one of them being his boyfriend - fencing, boxing, and playing polo against each other. Polo, for God's sake! Dalton had a barn, a barn! This was not only a good thing, but a bad thing at the same time. Sure, it would be very nice to watch and ogle these boys, but it would also be a very big distraction, and he would have no one to spend his time with! All of his close friends were on the teams. There was a competition each day for every sport, and it was a tournament.
Not only would Kurt be distracted by this, but he would also be meeting lots of new people. Being a Warbler meant one thing, for the most part: when you're a Warbler, you're trapped within the Warblers. You have your own floor, you have meetings with them at least three times a week - usually more - and you eat with them. Kurt didn't have a problem with this; he loved the Warblers. It did mean, though, that he had to meet lots of others that he didn't know from North Wing - the ones who weren't in his classes, and the people from South Wing, who he didn't know at all.
Well, except Quincy.
But that barely counted as knowing. They bumped into each other once in the hallway. Kurt thought for a minute. Didn't Blaine say that Quincy was his top competitor? That meant Kurt was going to see a lot of this kid.
Kurt shook his head of his thoughts, and turned on his music, hoping that it would help clear his head of distractions.
It was no use, the page that he had taken out remained blank. He needed a bigger distraction, so he whipped out his phone and texted Jeff - Blaine was meeting with the council tonight to talk about his latest solo for Friday night's final competition celebration that the Warblers always performed at in front of the entire school.
Hey Jeff! I need you as a distraction. Study Buddy? -K
He was texted back almost immediately.
Homework? Surely. Can I bring Nick? -J
Kurt had seen that one coming, so he complied.
Of course. I would expect nothing less from you Jeffers. Bring the boy toy. -K
Kurt practically saw Jeff's bright blue eyes narrowing at the nickname, but Kurt saw it as payback for the atrocious names Jeff called him. Kurty-pie? Really?
He received no response, so he figured they would just show up. He waited all of about two minutes until his door swung open unannounced to a smiling Nick and Jeff, holding hands, with their bags slung over their shoulders.
"Hey guys!" Kurt exclaimed cheerily.
Jeff was looking around the room as if there was something missing. "Kurtsie, where's Blainers? I thought you needed a distraction!"
"Um, I do?…"
"You don't need to be distracted from your boy? Then why do you need me here?"
"Us!" Nick interrupted.
"Us," Jeff repeated, using his free hand to rub up and down Nick's arm. "But, really Kurt, why do you need us here?"
"Didn't he tell you? He's meeting with Thad, Wes, and David about song selections for Friday's performance. I just need to get some homework done, and I can't without someone being here, because my thoughts have been captivating me."
"Ooh, what've you been thinking about?" Jeff inquired nosily.
"Nosy," Kurt ridiculed. "Just, what am I going to do this week? I'm going to be so bored yet so distracted at the same time. I mean, I'm not on any of the teams, and all my closest friends are. You're on polo," Kurt gestured to Jeff, then to Nick when he said, "and you're on boxing and fencing with Wes and David, and Blaine and Thad are on all three!"
"I guess I see where you're coming from," Nick said softly. "I've been on the teams since I arrived at Dalton, but I understand being surrounded by attractive boys all week competing in dapper yet extremely hot sports can be distracting. I'd be just as distraught."
Kurt let out a breath and leaned back in his swivel chair. "I'm relying on my girls for this one."
"You know Kurt, they are allowed to come watch the final games on Friday night, right?" Jeff asked, eyeing him with curiosity as he and Nick sat on the edge of Kurt's bed.
Kurt's eyes widened at the new fact. "Really?" Jeff nodded. "Oh, this is excellent! I just have to tell them! Thanks for filling me in, Jeff!"
"Anytime, Kurtsie. Anytime."
There was an awkward silence, and Nick, being known for his hatred of physics exclaimed sarcastically, with a fake smile plastered on his face, "So, are you guys ready for some physics?"
Kurt sat on the bleachers of the Dalton Academy gymnasium in the front row, looking at the mats where boys in white fencing uniforms bustled about. On one side of the gym, half of the boys wore a blue Dalton crest adorned on the left side of their uniform, with the letters N.W. underneath - some of the boys had a tiny little bird on the right, symbolizing that they were in the Warblers. Those were the boys from the North Wing. The boys from the South Wing wore a red Dalton crest proudly on their chest with the letters S.W. in script directly underneath. There were no birds anywhere on them.
Kurt watched intently as they rolled out more mats. He scanned the crowd for his boyfriend, and saw him standing with Thad, Nick, Cameron, Wes, and David, all with their face masks in hand, surrounded by the rest of their team. Thad caught his eye and waved, while poking Blaine, who turned to see Kurt too. Blaine winked and blew a kiss, which Kurt caught and pressed up to his lips. Blaine blew another kiss and Kurt caught it again, but put it in his blazer pocket this time - saving it for later. Blaine winked again, beaming, then turned back to his conversation with the boys, occasionally glancing over to where the South Wings were gathered.
"We are so gonna kick their asses. South Wing can suck it!" Thad exclaimed. All of the boys laughed, but Blaine took a deep breath and wrung his hands together, nervously looking at where Quincy Jacobs stood, surrounded by his posse as he laughed at something that Blaine assumed was rude. Blaine narrowed his eyes and tore his gaze away, not wanting to look at him until he absolutely had to.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see all of his friends looking at him with a concerned expression on their faces.
"You all right, B?" Wes asked. "You seem off."
"Um, yeah. I'm fine. A little nervous, but nothing I can't handle."
"You sure?" David double checked.
"Positive," Blaine told them, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, and they noticed - well, at least Nick did.
Nick grabbed Blaine's arm and pulled him aside. "Is it Kurt?"
Blaine sighed in defeat right off the bat, knowing he wasn't getting out of this. "Yeah.. well, for the most part." His eyes flashed over to the South Wings for a millisecond, and then back to Nick.
"Quincy?" Nick asked.
Blaine threw his hands up. "What are you, a mind reader?"
Nick chuckled. "No, not a mind reader." He paused. "Maybe a psychic, though."
Blaine laughed. "I knew it!"
"No, but really, Blaine. I'm just your friend and you're kind of being obvious. Just tell me what's up." Nick's soft, light brown eyes were looking into Blaine's hazel ones expectantly.
"It's stupid."
"I promised I won't laugh, Blaine. I'm not that kind of person, you know that."
"Yeah, I know." Blaine paused, unsure where to start. "So, um back like, a month ago, maybe? Maybe less, maybe more. I don't know. Kurt told me that he ran into Quincy in the hallway - quite literally, like, actually hit into him - and then he asked if he was gay. I mean, we weren't dating yet, so I had no right to be jealous, y'know? But I was anyway. I told him yes - I didn't wanna lie - and he was totally cool about it. I guess he was just curious. I would be. It's just bothering me…" Blaine sighed again.
"That's it? You shouldn't worry about that. Kurt loves you."
"That's not all… I mean, what if I lose against him? I mean, he so… tall. Plus, Kurt's gonna be watching and that'll be distracting, and I don't know what Quincy thinks of Kurt. He's all innocent and beautiful and Quincy is the biggest player ever. God. If I lose, I'll look like a total idiot in front of the whole school, Quincy, and Kurt. Damn, I'm freaking out." Blaine began to pace, and Nick immediately grabbed him, pulling him to a halt.
"Blaine, don't pace. I have a few questions for you." The tenor looked up, and Nick wore a very stern expression on his face. "Who is your boyfriend?"
Blaine quirked an eyebrow at the obvious question, but went with it anyway. "Kurt Hummel."
"Point to him." Blaine pointed to Kurt into the stands, who smiled brilliantly when he saw his boyfriend looking at him. "Does he love you?"
"Yes. I mean, I think so. He tells me he does."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes. More than anything."
"Will he judge you if you lose?"
"I'd hope not. He's not that kind of person."
Nick nodded. "What is your best sport - statistics wise?"
Blaine sighed. Again. "Fencing."
"When was the last time you lost a game?"
"… Ugh. Never."
"Since when has Quincy been a threat to you?"
"Since he talked to Kurt and I only won by one point last round, first competition this year."
"Who are you?"
"Blaine Anderson."
"Correction. Blaine Anderson: amazing fencer who has never lost a round, and has a boyfriend who loves him unconditionally and is head over heels in love with you. You have nothing to worry about." Nick then shoved Blaine in the direction of the bleachers. "Now let him wish you good luck. Jeff's meeting me in the locker room."
Kurt looked up from the sketch pad he was drawing outfits in when he felt soft guitar-calloused hands over his eyes, and a pair of warm lips on his neck.
"Guess who?" Blaine breathed against his boyfriend's neck.
"Hmm… Thad?"
Blaine laughed. "Mmm… no. Try again."
"Jeff! What are you doing?" Kurt played along.
"It's not Jeff, love." Blaine moved his lips behind Kurt's ear - the spot that made him melt every time. "One more try."
'I think it's Blaine." Kurt turned his head and caught Blaine's lips in a soft, sweet kiss, Blaine's hand dropping at once from Kurt's face. "Hi, baby. What's up?"
"Just saying 'hi' before it's time for me to fence. I was hoping for a little good luck charm?"
Kurt raised his eyebrows. "What kind of good luck charm?"
"Maybe a kiss?" Blaine batted his eyelashes.
"I think I can manage that." Blaine a sat next to Kurt on the bleachers and pulled him in close for a kiss, his face mask forgotten beside them. They kept it sweet and tender - not wanting to get carried away in their school's gym. When they pulled apart, Kurt moved to Blaine's ear, his lips grazing the skin. "Good luck, baby," he whispered. "I love you. You're the best." He kissed him one last time for good measure, squeezed his shoulder, and he was off, his grin plastered on his face as he returned to where his friends were standing.
Kurt saw a flustered Nick and Jeff emerge from the doors that led to the locker room. Jeff kissed his boyfriend one more time and walked over to where Kurt was sitting, plopping down next to him.
"Kurtie! You ready for this intense match of intenseness? I need to leave before the last match, barn duty calls, and that will most likely be Blaine, so you'll have to tell me how it goes. He's the best on the team."
"So I've been told. Not by him, of course; he's too modest." Jeff nodded.
"Except when he's not."
Kurt crossed his legs. "Yeah. Except when he's not. So," Kurt started, "how does this whole thing work? I mean, is it a tournament? How many people are competing?"
Jeff smiled. "Oh, yeah. I forget that you're a new kid sometimes, Kurtie. So basically, we have two classes of fencers - Class A and Class B. There's a tournament for each class against each wing - so North Wing Class A vs. South Wing Class A, and North Wing Class B vs. South Wing Class B. All of our boys are in Class B, the higher level. Everyone is given a competitor, and whoever wins, goes on. There are sixteen boys in each class, which makes for thirty-two on each team. If there are an uneven amount of winners and losers, say nine boys out of the sixteen competing win on the North, and only seven from South, they are allowed to bring back one of their best fencers, in order to compete against North, who has to remove a boy so it stays eight vs. eight. The boy from North who was taken out is put on hold, in case the situation is reversed. This goes on each round, until there are eight boys fencing on each team, then four, then two, and finally one. Keep in mind, that these rules are only applied for Dalton, not normal fencing tournaments, because there are teams. This makes it a lot more difficult, because you need even numbers on both sides for it to work. It's not exactly the most equitable system, especially if you're the one taken out, but we all know this is a team/wing thing, not a solo competition. The same idea works for the boxing matches that are going on this week too, which I take you'll be coming to watch?" Kurt nodded vigorously. Jeff chuckled. "Don't worry Kurtie, I get where you're coming from. It is so hot to watch. I'm not even exaggerating."
Kurt smiled. "Thanks for explaining that, Jeff, even if it is more confusing than the inner workings of Cameron's mind." Jeff looked at him incredulously, with an eyebrow quirked. "I'm kidding. Nothing's more confusing than that - although, this tournament is rather puzzling."
"It is at first, trust me. But that scoreboard," he pointed to it, hanging on the high part of the wall, above the set of bleachers on the other side of the gym, "helps a lot, and I can explain. Plus, watching the actual games help too, even if there are usually several going on at once."
Kurt shook his head and looked over at his boyfriend who was laughing at something. Another question popped into Kurt's head. "So, how do the polo matches work?"
Jeff laughed, looking relieved for Kurt. "Oh, don't worry about that. It's just best out of three. We have three matches, and whoever wins the most, two or all three, wins for their side. It's a lot simpler, and the teams are much smaller."
"Oh, thank God," Kurt breathed, chuckling lightly. "How many on a team?"
"Eight people on each team, but only four people in each round. So, not a lot. Things you need to know about polo: There are six chukkers in a polo match, kind of like a round or quarter in football, except there's six. Each chukker is seven minutes long. A bell is rung to indicate thirty seconds are left in the chukker. A horn is blown at the end of the chukker. Breaks between chukkers are three minutes long, but the players mostly chug water and talk plans then, so it's not the social hour of the season or anything, and there's a five minute halftime.
"Good. I can't stand to be that confused, and I like to consider myself a pretty bright person."
Jeff chuckled again, and Kurt followed his gaze to where Nick and Blaine were talking happily, occasionally casting glances at the South Wings, where Kurt noted, Quincy Jacobs stood, surrounded by lots of other boys that he didn't know. One of the South Wings pointed at someone on the bleachers, and Quincy followed his friend's finger, and saw Kurt. He grinned brilliantly at Kurt, who just smiled back tentatively, unsure if it was really him who was being addressed.
"Kurt Hummel. Why the hell did Quincy Jacobs just smile at you? No fraternizing with the enemy!" Jeff exclaimed.
"Jeff, calm yourself. You sound like Wes. And as for why, I have no idea. I met him once when I ran into him in the hallway, like literally hit him. So, I have no clue. Why is this such a horrid thing?"
"Because, young Kurtie, he is the enemy. More importantly, your boyfriend's enemy. I suggest, you don't associate with him. At all."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I can talk to whoever I want, but honestly, I don't see the need to talk to him. But, if he approaches me, I'm not going to ignore him. I'm not that big of a bitch." Jeff glared at him knowingly. "Okay, maybe I am, but I don't want to be mean, that will just provoke the enemy, right? And that's the last thing I want for Blaine, and the team."
Jeff sighed, realizing Kurt was right. "I guess you're right, but just be careful. I don't want you getting hurt. Jacobs isn't exactly known for being nice. Or being good in relationships."
"Who said anything about relationships? I have Blaine. I love Blaine. I don't think about anyone else except Blaine."
"I know, that's kind of annoying," Jeff joked. "Just kidding."
"You better be. It's not like you're any different with Nick," Kurt ridiculed, fiddling with the pages of his sketch book. Jeff sighed defeatedly, knowing what Kurt said was true.
Then the bell signaling the first round rang, and the duo's attention was drawn to the bustling group of thirty-two boys in front of them. The referee announced who each fencer would be competing against, reading from a shiny blue clipboard with a red Dalton crest on it. He read name after name, his voice booming through the gym from the microphone clipped to his chest. He told the two teams and the people in the stands that round one would be broken into two parts - eight matches at once. The boys lined up at their respective places against their opponent, while the other eight pairs sat at their reserved seats in the bleachers, opposite Kurt and Jeff. Kurt took a mental note that Blaine was fencing against a boy named Justin Cowley. He also noted that he was one of the guys who was hanging around Quincy before the tournament started.
"Is Nick in the first part?" Kurt spoke quietly. "I wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah. He's against Will Peterson. He's a nice kid. Not the best fencer though."
"Well that's a good thing for us then."
"It is," Jeff agreed, his eyes trained on his boyfriend who was wiping his foil and stretching.
When the next bell sounded, eight referees moved out towards the mats where the competitors waited, briefly explaining the rules and calling for a shake of hands, then a salute - a formal, customary acknowledgment with their weapons.
Kurt's eyes were trained on Blaine and Justin as they shook and hands, retrieved their foils, and saluted each other. They took their stances and Kurt studied them both carefully. Blaine looked sure and strong, even with his short stature. Justin looked more wobbly, with his feet planted awkwardly. His tall and lanky figure seemed unsteady, and not all right for the fight they were about to begin.
When the ref announced, "En garde," they took their starting positions, and then he stated, "Allez!" and the match began. All sixteen boys were fencing - lunging, staying light on their feet, hearing the clashes of metal foils, the quick jabs forward, and the performing of parries, high and low lines, and feints. When the round ended, Blaine was breathing a little harder, and he wore a proud smile.
The announcer came back on, saying, "The winners from the North Wing for Part One of Round One are: Blaine Anderson, Michael Carr, Nicholas Duval, Thaddeus Harwood, and Jake Moore. The winners from the South Wing for Part One of Round One are: Zach Hale, Reese Smith, and Clayton Walk. Please prepare for Part Two, those of you who are competing." Another bell sounded and the next sixteen boys lined up, and the prior set of events repeated. The starting bell sounded, "en garde" and "allez" was stated, and the matches began.
Once they finished, the announcer spoke up again. "The winners from the North Wing for Part Two of Round One are: Cameron James, Wesley Montgomery, Marc Silver, and David Thompson. The winners from the South Wing for Part Two of Round One are: Quincy Jacobs, Declan Knight, Adam Lister, and Landon Yates. That's it for Round One. Now, South Wing competitors - please chose, on fair vote and decision, your next best fencer so there is an even number per team. North, you will have to remove one fencer, but he will be on hold if the situation arises that you need an extra. Choose wisely. This round will be eight vs. eight. Please discuss it."
The North Wings were quietly celebrating their wins and they discussed who they would take out. The South Wings also conversed quietly about who they wanted to reenter the competition. After about five minutes, the South had decided, and Round Two, the last of the day, was about to begin.
The first warning bell rang out. "Please report to your mat after your opponent is given to you." The announcer called out names, and Kurt was thankful that Blaine and Nick were first in the alphabetical order, because this gave him the opportunity to have a full concentration conversing with Jeff, without worrying about people's names being called, or missing something important.
"I think I actually understand this method of madness, Jeff!"
"Oh, good, Kurtie. I'm glad. This is the last round today, and then we have three and four on Wednesday. Blaine's doing really well, too. Justin wasn't that great. Neither is Adam, so you're set. Lister is a little lame. I don't even know how he made it past the first round."
"Oh, really? I mean, I'm not the most informed on the rules of fencing, so I wouldn't really know."
"You'll get it eventually, I promise. I had no idea what was going on my freshman year. I was sitting with, like, James or something… I wasn't even dating Nick yet." Kurt chuckled, and the two fell silent again as the next bell sounded, bringing their attention back to the game, as it was before. Kurt found Blaine and Adam standing on their mats, the voice starting the fight.
"En garde. Allez!" The fighting began at one, foils lunging forward. Adam stumbled backwards twice, Blaine feinting first, then lunging repeatedly, then parrying his attempt at a hit, countering with a prime. Blaine speared him several times, clearly having the match in his hands. Most would think that Adam would at least attempt to parry, but Blaine had the upper hand and advantages, giving Adam no chance to even try. Blaine won the match.
After all eight matches had come to an end, the announcer's voice boomed for the last time that day, "The winners from the North Wing for Round Two are: Blaine Anderson, Nick Duval, Cameron James, and Michael Carr. The winners from the South Wing for Round Two are: Quincy Jacobs, Declan Knight, Reese Smith, and Clayton Walk. That's all for today, gentlemen. Thank you for competing - or watching. We'll be back here on Wednesday at four, after class, for Rounds Three and Four. Thanks again! Have a nice evening!"
The speaker shut off, and Kurt and Jeff both sprang up, Kurt snatched his notebook, and followed the fencers into the locker room. Kurt walked as fast as he could without actually running, and saw Blaine at his locker already, so he headed straight towards him.
Except he didn't notice the bag in front of him, so naturally, he tripped, falling forward, but a pair of strong steady hands kept him up. They weren't Blaine hands. Quincy Jacobs was holding his shoulders steady, looking slightly downward into his eyes.
"Um, Quincy, sorry. I run into you a lot. Thanks for um…" Kurt muttered, stumbling on his words as he saw Blaine eye them as he took of his shirt.
"Keeping you from falling face first onto a hard, concrete floor?" Quincy offered, smiling.
"Yeah. That. Thanks."
"Anytime," he said smoothly, his hands still on Kurt's shoulders. "So, what'd you think of the match?"
"Uh… it was interesting to watch! I mean, I'm not very familiar with fencing, so to see Dalton's tournament was very intriguing. Not nearly as fascinating as seeing a show would be, but interesting."
"Oh, really?"
"No. I'm lying to you. Yes, really," Kurt joked snippily. Quincy just laughed. Is he… flirting with me? Does he know I'm with Blaine? Why is he still holding on to my shoulders? Maybe Jeff is right… I can't judge. I don't know him, and he's being really friendly. Plus he saved me from smearing my face all over the locker room floor. "Well, I'll see you around, Quincy. I have to meet up with Blaine now."
Kurt turned, Quincy's hands dropping from his shoulders. He started to walk away, but Quincy caught his arm. "Are you coming to polo tonight?"
Kurt smiled. If he doesn't know I'm taken, he'll know now. "Of course! What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn't there to support Blaine?" Quincy dropped his arm, just nodding, and Kurt turned again, flouncing over to Blaine, who still had his shirt in his hand, as he had stood still, just watching as this ordeal went on. Kurt was facing the wrong way, but Blaine didn't miss the smirk that etched itself upon Quincy Jacobs' face Kurt mentioned the word 'boyfriend'. Blaine knew that look. That was his signature "not for long look."
As soon as Kurt reached his boyfriend, Blaine pulled him into his arms, pressing his bare chest into Kurt's Dalton uniform, holding him with everything he had, boring holes into the back of Quincy's stupid blonde head.
"Well, hello to you too!" Kurt squeaked, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist. Blaine's arms wound around Kurt's neck, willing him against the tenor's body.
"Hey," Blaine spoke lowly, almost seductively into Kurt's ear. He kissed that spot behind his ear again, like on the bleachers, and Kurt's eyes fluttered shut. "How did you like fencing?"
"You really wanna know?" Kurt asked, recomposing himself.
"I trust me, I wanna."
"It was pretty hot." Blaine's eyes widened at that. He wasn't expecting that. Maybe a cheeky retort on how ridiculous the outfits were, but that was highly unexpected. "Even if they outfits are hideous." There's my Kurt.
"Really?"
"Mmh… really." Kurt's eyes flickered down to Blaine's lips for a second, before leaning in and kissing him, leaving Blaine breathless. "As great as this is, because trust me, I really don't mind you not having a shirt on, the fact that we're in a locker room filled with sweaty, smelly things, is kind of disgusting. Ew. I lied. Really disgusting. Finish changing, and we can get out of here and go back to my room so you can nap before polo." Blaine smiled at how nice that sounded.
"Of course, Mr. Hummel."
Blaine and Kurt sat on the latter's bed not really watching The Little Mermaid playing in the background, snuggling, and sharing little kisses here and there - whether it be on the lips, on the neck, the hand, the cheek, the arm, the wrist, the nose, the forehead, they just wanted to have contact. They kissed wherever and whenever they could. Right now, Kurt was kissing Blaine's jaw, letting him relax for a little before he slept. Kurt stopped kissing him, but before Blaine could whine in protest, Kurt buried into his boyfriend's neck, just simply breathing him in. "Part of Your World" began to play softly in the background, and Blaine sang along quietly, stroking Kurt's hair subconsciously. Kurt closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled by Blaine's beautiful voice. When the song ended, Kurt absently reached for the remote on the bedside table next to him. When he found it, he paused the T.V. and whispered to Blaine, "Can you sing to me?"
"Of course," Blaine responded quietly. He had wanted to talk to Kurt about Quincy, but right now, he couldn't care less about that. He would do that later. Right now, it was all about Kurt and Blaine. No one else. "What do you want to hear?"
"Your voice. Anything. It doesn't matter. Just your voice," Kurt whispered - not pleading or begging, just wanting.
"Anything?" Kurt nodded. Blaine began to sing the first song that came to mind. "I would get my guitar, but I don't want to get up."
There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard,
No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things
Like a, shoebox of photographs
With sepia-toned loving
Love is the answer,
At least for most of the questions in my heart
Like why are we here? And where do we go?
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy and
Sometimes life can be deceiving,
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together
Mmm, it's always better when we're together
Yeah, we'll look at the stars when we're together
Well, it's always better when we're together
Yeah, it's always better when we're together
And all of these moments
Just might find their way into my dreams tonight
But I know that they'll be gone
When the morning light sings
And brings new things
For tomorrow night you see
That they'll be gone too
Too many things I have to do
But if all of these dreams might find their way
Into my day to day scene
I'd be under the impression
I was somewhere in between
With only two
Just me and you
Not so many things we got to do
Or places we got to be
We'll sit beneath the mango tree now
Yeah, it's always better when we're together
Mmm, we're somewhere in between together
Well, it's always better when we're together
Yeah, it's always better when we're together
Mmm, mmm, mmm
I believe in memories
They look so, so pretty when I sleep
Hey now, and when I wake up,
You look so pretty sleeping next to me
But there is not enough time,
And there is no, no song I could sing
And there is no combination of words I could say
But I will still tell you one thing
We're better together.
Kurt had removed his head from Blaine's neck as soon as he had started singing. The countertenor watched intently as he sang, his clear voice ringing through the room - smoothly, beautifully. It was intoxicating. Kurt listened to every lyric, grasping them, clinging to them, loving how they all suited Kurt and Blaine so well. When he finished, Kurt met Blaine's eyes, shining a bright hazely-green, lifted his chin, and softly kissed him on the lips. It was a short and sweet kiss, and when Kurt pulled away, he whispered, "That was beautiful. You're beautiful. Thank you."
"Anything for you, Kurt," Blaine replied, moving in for another kiss. They stayed like that for a while - kissing, lying together, legs tangled, hands entwined. When they moved apart from each other after a long while, Kurt pushed a stray curl from Blaine's forehead, and kissed the place where it was.
"You need to sleep," Kurt told him, lying all the way down, and tugging Blaine with him. Blaine rolled over so he could look at Kurt.
"Can I ask you a question?" Blaine asked.
"You just did." Blaine laughed. "Of course you can."
"W-why were you talking to Quincy?" Kurt wasn't expecting that one. "I mean, I'm not insecure about you, or us, but I just don't like him. He's cruel, harsh, and the biggest player I have ever met. It's not that I don't trust you, because believe me, I do - it's him I don't trust."
Kurt took a deep breath, preparing himself. "Blaine, I understand that you don't like him, frankly, it seems that whoever I talk to about him, doesn't like him. But, I'm not the kind of person who hates people because other people hate them. If you're concerned that he's interested in me, well I don't know if he is, but I assure you - I am not interested in him. I love you, and only you, and Quincy means nothing. I can't promise you that I'll never talk to him, because that's not who I am, but I promise, that on my account, he'll never get in the way of our relationship, and the only person I'll be cheering for is you. And you know I was a cheerleader."
Blaine smiled. "I still need to see that," he murmured sleepily.
"One day, baby."
"And as for what you said, I trust you, I believe you, and I. Love. You." He kissed Kurt softly one more time and closed his eyes, nudging Kurt to turn around. When he did so, he wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist and he kissed the back of his neck. "You have the alarm set?"
"Of course. Sleep well, Blainers."
"You too, Kurtie. Love you."
"Love you, too."
The polo scene was much different than the fencing one - the crowd was just as big, but still far different. It was dark outside, so big field lights lit the polo arena. It was mid-December, and it was cold. All of the Dalton Academy students shed their uniforms, and were bundled up, sporting the colors of their team - blue for North and red for South. It was at a time like this that the school seemed so divided, but this was the only time. Normally, they were one: Dalton; not North and South. Instead of bleachers, large benches were set out, surrounding the arena. There was a large pathway with trees enclosing around it, also illuminated, but by lights on the ground. The path lead to the barn and the indoor arena for regular riding lessons. There was a scoreboard at the far end of the field, and it read 0-0, as the match was yet to begin.
Kurt sat with the Warblers on the bench closest to the ring, with Nick on his left and Cameron on his right. The chatter was loud and excited, but it was silenced as soon as the bell sounded and the announcer's voice came on through the speakers scattered across the field.
"Attention Dalton! Tonight we have for you, the first of three polo matches! For the North Wing, in the first half, chukker one, two, and three, we have Blaine Anderson riding Lajos!" There was a silence, then the pounding of hooves against the hard ground. Blaine and Lajos came cantering fast down the path and into the open green playing field. Blaine wore a navy and light blue striped polo shirt, with a white number one on his back, a pair of dangerously tight jodhpurs, a black velvet helmet, and leather, knee high riding boots. He was smiling proudly and holding his mallet in one hand, and his reins especially designed for polo in the other.
Lajos was sleek and a dark bay. His dark brown, but not quite black coat shimmered in the field's lights, and you could see his muscles as he cantered about the ring, before stopping in the middle, waiting. The horse had four perfectly equal socks on each leg, and a small star, or diamond, on his forehead. His mane was clipped for polo, like all of the polo ponies were - soft and short, like a shaved head.
"Jeff Sterling riding Lopez!" Jeff rode out, on a horse similar looking to Blaine's, except slightly taller and bigger built. Lopez. Like Santana? All I know, is that if the horse and Satan are anything alike, he and Jeff will either get along like best friends, or hate each other. Let's hope for the first one. Kurt thought.
"Thad Harwood riding Lakota!" Do they all start with L's? This horse was entirely black, with high white stockings on his legs, and a blaze down his face.
"And finally, Kyle Ratter riding Laguna!" I guess so. This horse was a chestnut brown, almost coppery, and had not a single marking. Kyle wore the number four on his back, and Jeff wore two, Thad three.
The South Wings were announced: Quincy Jacobs, Declan Knight, Steven Michaels, and Tim O'Hare. They wore red and maroon shirts. Two more bay horses came out, another chestnut one, and even a light, golden Palomino horse was being ridden. All eight riders went around in a circle, cantering slowly, then walking over to their respective sides, stepping over the side board boundaries, while still mounted. It happened to be right in front of where the Warblers were seated, and Blaine looked down at where Kurt was, smiling softly.
"Wanna come say, hi?" Blaine asked, referring to his horse, who was standing patiently, nudging Nick, who was petting him and Lopez.
"I don't know, Blaine… I don't want to get dirty," he pointed down at his shocking blue jeans and Dalton sweatshirt that had North in all caps on the back, "and I'm not the best with animals… let alone big, half ton ones that could crush me."
Blaine laughed. "I assure you, Lajos will not get you dirty if you just pet him. Working in the barn on the other hand… well let's not talk about that. I also promise that he won't crush you. He's the sweetest polo pony that you could ever meet, and plus, I've got him." Blaine raised his hand with the reins in it and wiggled it around, showing that he had control of the horse. "He'll love you." Kurt saw the pleading look on his boyfriend's face, so reluctantly stood up and saw Blaine's eyes light up. "Just hold your hand out in front of his nose, and then you can pet his face."
Kurt did as he was told, and soon found that he loved the feeling of the soft skin of the horse's nose on his hand. Lajos nudged him playfully, and Kurt carefully scratched between his ears and rubbed in between his eyes. "He's so… soft."
"I knew you would like him!" Blaine exclaimed excitedly, leaning up to scratch between Lajos's ears himself. He hugged his neck, and reached a hand out to Kurt. Blaine had dropped the reins to hold Kurt's hand, but he could care less. Lajos wasn't going anywhere. "Blaine, why do they have their hair cut so short?"
"It's a polo thing. It's kind of a safety precaution so that the mane, hair, and tails don't get caught in the mallet. It's just to make sure everyone stays safe. That's why the tail's braided, too. Not just to look pretty, even if it is fun to do."
"I love braiding!" Kurt exclaimed. "I would do it to the girls all the time."
"Oh, no, horse tail braiding is an art. You have to master it."
"Okay then, Mr. Anderson, I guess then you're just going to have to teach me."
"I guess I will." The next bell sounded. "That's my call. Wish me good luck?"
"Always." Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine's hand, one to Lajos's face, and then he waved and sat back down. Blaine stepped back on to the field with his three other team members.
Kurt never thought that polo could be so intense. He watched as eight boys and their horses galloped throughout the arena, mallets flying. There were bumps, hooks, and passes, and Kurt never thought it would be such an involved sport. His eyes were constantly moving as he watched the game. Blaine seemed so focused, and he and Lajos moved as one. It was one big herd of horses and boys, and the whole thing was just so fast and clumped, it was hard to keep track of what was going on. Especially for Kurt, as it was his first time watching. He kept note of the scoreboard, and there was only a minute left of the third and final chukker that Blaine was playing in, the scores were tied at four points, and he barely wrapped his head around the last play. The ball was in South's favor, near their goal, and Blaine's mallet head had just come off. In polo, a broken mallet doesn't count as broken tack. The game goes on. Blaine swore under his breath, but turned his mallet upside down to play with the handle. The ball came his way, he struck it with a back shot, hitting it perfectly even with a handle, and it hurtled towards Jeff, who shot it into the goal as the horn sounded. The crowd erupted into cheers - well, at least the North did.
The players left the field, stepping over the boundaries once more, on a high from their game. Blaine was breathing hard, and Kurt sprang up as soon as he dismounted his horse, barely listening as the introduced the next set of riders for the second half. Kurt kissed him hard, not caring that Blaine had his reins in his hand.
"You were amazing! I'm so proud of you. Let's hope the rest of your guys win it for you."
"I'm sure they will; we have a brilliant team."
"Good to hear. I want something to celebrate."
"So my fencing wasn't enough?"
"Remember when I said that that was hot. I lied. Well, I didn't lie, but this is even hotter."
Blaine laughed. "Good to know. Now, do you want to come back to the barn to help me with Lajos? We don't actually need to watch the match, we can hear the commentary. Plus I'm not in this one, so it won't be nearly as interesting," Blaine said sarcastically, putting himself on a pedestal jokingly.
Kurt was dead serious. "I'm glad we're on the same page here." They both laughed, before Kurt composed himself. "But yes, I'd love to join you in this wonderful barn you speak of. As long as you don't get me dirty."
Blaine just hummed, and Kurt hoped his silence was for a good reason. They joined hands, Lajos was being held by the reins in Blaine's other hand, trailing behind tiredly behind them as they sauntered to the barn.
"I don't know, Blaine. I'm not too sure if I want to go in there." Kurt looked up at the barn, and he realized how much it screamed "Dalton." Not only did it have a red and blue Dalton crest above the barn doors, but it was posh and clean and organized. The cobblestone made it seem very elegant, even if it was a barn. "What about my shoes?" He gestured down at his boots that were, in a way, similar to Blaine's. Although they weren't made for riding like his boyfriend's, Kurt's boots were of a similar design.
"Kurtie, please," Blaine pleaded. "As long as you don't step in anything, they won't get dirty. I'll shine them for you if you need me to. I can't just stand here, though. Lajos needs to be groomed and put away, and if you won't help me, or at least watch, then I guess I'll have to be all by myself. You'll have to walk back to the Warblers all alone in the cold. I don't think you want that." Blaine was joking, and Kurt could hear it in his voice, but Blaine didn't want to make Kurt do anything that he didn't want to, no matter how much Blaine wanted him to come.
Kurt saw the pleading look on Blaine's face, and to be totally honest with himself, he was interested to see how Blaine worked. He squeezed his hand. "Oh, Blainers, you don't have to shine my shoes." Blaine laughed, as the mood was still light. "And I guess I'll come," Kurt joked, squeezing Blaine's hand again. "Let's go see this horsey barn of yours."
"Yay!" Blaine squealed. He realized the sound he just made and turned slightly red.
"Blaine, you're blushing!" Kurt teased. They met each other's eyes, and both cracked up at the same time. It really wasn't very funny, but to them it was. Kurt keeled over with laughter and Lajos was just looking at them with pricked up ears.
When they calmed themselves down, it suddenly hit them how cold it was. "Okay, let's go in; it's freezing out here," Blaine said. Kurt nodded, and thumbed patterns over Blaine's gloved hand.
They entered the barn and walked about halfway through, where Blaine stopped Lajos. He slipped off his bridle and replaced it with a halter. He then clipped the horse to crosstie and proceeded to take off his tack, placing it on the stand attached to the wall. Kurt looked around the barn, noting the cobblestone floors sweeped to perfection, the high ceilings with nice, but simple lights, the large stalls, and very organized sides where blankets were folded. Blaine showed Kurt the tack room, which was just as spotless and immaculate as the rest of the barn. While there, Blaine picked up a box with a piece of blue duct tape on it that had "Lajos" written on it in black Sharpie. Inside the box, there were brushes and combs and picks.
"Wanna help me brush him?" Blaine asked, as they walked back to where Lajos was still standing, scratching his leg with his nose.
"Um… sure. I'm not exactly sure how to though. Will you show me?" Kurt looked down at the box that Blaine had set on the ground.
"Of course. It would be my pleasure." Kurt smiled at Blaine's manners.
Blaine reached into the box and pulled out a blue, round brush made out of rubber with little lumps sticking out of it, and a looped handle on the smooth side. He handed it to Kurt who tentatively slipped his hand through the loop, and pressed the brush onto Lajos's sleek body, unsure of what to do. Blaine put his hand over Kurt's and began to move them in small circles, and some dirt and loose hairs fluttered to the ground. "This is called a curry comb," Blaine told Kurt. "Just go in small circles - it's easy. Can you do it on your own? Just comb everywhere, except his face. Even his legs. I'll get the other side."
"Okay, Blaine. This is actually really fun. Does he like it?"
"Oh, yeah. Horses love being groomed, especially Lajos. I mean, some horses have sensitive skin, and don't like it as much because it irritates them, but most do. It's like being pampered."
Kurt's eyebrows rose slightly. "Pampered, I like the sound of that."
Blaine chuckled as he began to go in fast, slightly rougher circles on Lajos's other side, moving at a much quicker pace that Kurt's slow, small circles. "One day, Kurt."
He cocked his head and noticed Blaine's fast workings. "Why are you going so fast?"
"Oh, well, it just gets the job done quicker. You can work however you want though, Kurt." He reached over Lajos's back, and tapped Kurt on the nose.
"Well, thank you for letting me know I have options," Kurt retorted as he bent down to curry Lajos's front and back legs. Blaine shamelessly stared at his boyfriend's rear end, but then remembered he had a horse to clean and Jeff was the next crosstie up, probably laughing at him, or getting blackmail material.
When Kurt stood, he shrieked quietly. "Blaine, my pants!" There was horse hair clinging to them, and they had a light coating of dust.
"Kurt, just brush it off. It's not stained or anything. You can wash them." Blaine took Kurt's brush and his own and replaced them in the box, and kissed Kurt lightly, keeping his dirty hands to himself though. "Don't you worry." Kurt smiled, mostly reassured, and accepted the next brush that Blaine handed him. "This is a hard brush, Kurt. It takes away the roughness that the curry comb left behind, and removes the rest of the dirt. Just do nice even strokes."
Kurt did as he was told, and he repeated it with the soft brush after, too. Then they moved on to the hoof pick, which only Blaine used, as it was slightly more difficult than the rest of them, and Lajos was known to be a little touchy when getting his feet cleaned. Blaine undid the braid in his horse's tail, and showed Kurt how to comb the hair there without standing directly behind the horse to prevent getting kicked. Then they moved on to the final brush that Blaine was going to use: the face brush. It was soft, and made out of goat hairs. He gently cleaned Lajos's face and scratched between his ears again.
"Thank you for helping me, Kurt. I just need to give him an apple, put on his blanket, and put him in his stall. We can go celebrate, because by the sounds of the cheering and the last announcement that the commentator made, we just won the first polo match!"
"I wasn't paying attention! We did? Oh, Blaine, congratulations!"
"Thank you, baby." Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend there in the tack room, kissing him hard on the mouth.
Then of course, none other than Jeffery S. Sterling had to walk into the room. "Woah, no love fests in the tack room, boys."
Kurt rolled his eyes as he pulled away. "Sorry to offend you Jeff, but I could say the same to you and Nick about the locker room."
"Whatever. At least the locker room doesn't smell like horse."
"Sweat is better?" Kurt asked.
"Touche. Anyway, later boys. I'm done here, and I believe we have a celebration to attend, so I suggest you hurry up." He winked as he set down Lopez's tack box, and walked out of the room.
"Does he find a way to ruin everything?" Blaine asked.
"No, not this one," Kurt said before swooping and pressing a light kiss to Blaine's lips. "Now hurry up. It's time to celebrate the North Wing nature, or so Cameron calls it." Kurt debated it for a second, whether it sounded too forward or not, but went for it and said, "Plus, you have a complimentary celebratory make out session with your name on it."
Then he bounded out of the tack room, and went to go pet Lajos. Finding the apple slices, he fed them to him, helping Blaine move a little faster.
When Blaine came back to blanket Lajos, they didn't speak. The only thing Kurt could see in his boyfriend's eyes was pure lust.
"Girls, I think I might be able to deem last night one of the best nights at Dalton Academy. And note that I say night, because the best day by far was when Blaine sang to me during auditions and I asked him to be my boyfriend, y'know, all of that stuff. That was the best day. Last night was somewhere in the top five. I can't really decide because there's been so many amazing experiences. All I can say is that this one was definitely one of them."
Santana raised an eyebrow at him, examining his words. "And by experiences, I assume you totally got it on with your hobbit?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, but before he let himself blush and look away, he retorted, "Santana, of course we did, but that's not all that made it special. We got it on twice."
Santana reached over the table and gave him a high five. "Wanky, Hummel." He winked. All of the other girls were looking at him with impressed expressions - well, other than Brittany, who was looking at the whipped cream on top of her iced coffee like it was the most confusing thing she had ever seen.
"Does cream cry when it gets whipped?" Brittany asked. All of her friends quirked an eyebrow at her comment, not because it was unusual, (because for Britt it wasn't), but because they were intrigued as to where she was going with this one. "My history teacher told me that the slaves used to get whipped, and that it hurt really, really badly. If this is whipped cream, then did it hurt when they whipped the cream? I don't want to eat it if it cried. That's mean."
They all laughed, and that just made the blonde girl even more confused. Santana noted her friend's expression and told her softly, "No, sweetie, it didn't cry or hurt, you can eat it."
"Oh, okay!" She used the end of her straw and ate a big dollop of whipped cream.
Tina was still interested in Kurt's story, so she pressed further. "Kurt, care to elaborate as to why this was the best night at Dalton ever? Other than Santana's reason?" There were murmurs of agreement from the other girls.
"If there is one," Santana muttered. Kurt rolled his eyes again. "There is, Satan." She glared at him. "Well, I guess I should say best evening into the night, because it really started off during fencing."
"Fencing?" Quinn asked.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Santana, Quinn, Tina, Britt, this week is Dalton Academy's annual Competition Week, where they have tournaments for their three sports teams - fencing, polo, and boxing - and the Wings competition: North vs. South. I'm on North. Rachel and Mercedes already knew, I told them." The two girls smiled as Kurt took a sip of his non-fat mocha.
"God," Santana huffed. "Even their sports are preppy. Do they even have a football team?"
Kurt looked away. "No," he admitted. "But, we do have a football field and a soccer field, so it's not like we can't play. We just don't have an actual team. Plus, these sports are part of Dalton history, or so Wes says." She didn't look impressed, but it was hard to impress Santana Lopez, so he just kept talking. "So, I was at the fencing match sitting with Jeff, we just watched the first round, and both of our boyfriends are on the team…" Kurt continued to tell the story, using his eloquent words and extensive vocabulary, and all of the girls seemed intrigued. When he arrived at the point in the story where they left the barn, Santana interrupted.
"This is where it gets scandalous." Kurt rolled his eyes yet again, but couldn't prevent his smile. Santana noticed. "Oh, I am so right. You gots your mack on!"
"Well, yeah. I mean, we were about to leave the barn, but he pretty much jumped me. Like pinned me up against the wall and kissed the hell out of me. I wasn't complaining, I mean who would?" None of the girls said anything. "So, we pretty much made out in the barn." Kurt blushed, and Mercedes shot him a wink. "I wasn't exactly planning it to be there, but when he pulled away, he whispered to me, 'I don't think that was enough celebration.'" The girls gasped and oohed. "I had no idea what to say, so I just went on another whim. like in the tack room and told him, 'I guess we'll just keep celebrating later,' and I turned him around so he was pinned against the wall, winked, and walked away."
Rachel's eyes widened. "Kurt Hummel! I didn't take you as that kind of person. That's kind of horrendous."
"It's not horrendous, man hands. You just wouldn't know what it's like, because you wouldn't put out for Finn when you actually had a boyfriend," Santana sneered.
Kurt glared at Rachel. "Rachel, I didn't take myself as that kind of person either, but he just… does things to me. And I don't know whether Santana is right, but I'm not sure if you would know."
"Plus, Kurtie is a boy. They're all sex crazy. Even if he's pretty, he's still a boy," Brittany interjected.
"Brittany's right," Quinn added. "Two boys: two times the testosterone."
"I think that Blaine has just got my white boy whipped," Mercedes said, "and it's absolutely awesome. There's no shame in making out with your boyfriend, am I right?"
They all agreed, and finally Rachel admitted reluctantly, "Fine. I guess I see where you are coming from."
"So what else happened?" Mercedes asked.
"Well, he caught up with me and we walked back to the North Senior Commons, and there was a huge party going on already, and when Blaine walked in, they went crazy! It was like Puck in a sex shop!" They all laughed. "I'm serious though, he's like the big man on campus, or whatever. They all love him. It was kind of awesome to be his date."
"I'm sure," Quinn said.
"So really we just danced the whole night until he whispered to me in the middle of a song, 'I'm still waiting to keep celebrating.' Me, being me, had to retort, so I just said, 'Oh, so dancing with me isn't enough?' Then he pretty much growled, 'Oh, trust me, I love watching you dance and sing to the words, but your lips could be doing much more important things right now.' I wasn't exactly expecting that one, but I realized that I must do the same things to him that he does to me, which honestly came as a shock. For the longest time, I thought no one would be attracted to me."
"Aw, Kurtie, I loved kissing you." Brittany said sincerely.
"Thanks, Britt," Kurt replied, deciding not to mention that since she was a girl she didn't really count. "But, then we just went back to my room and made out again, except on my bed. Andhewasontopofme."
"What did you say?" Quinn asked.
Santana was gazing at him knowingly, and he was already a bright red, so he just said it, knowing that he couldn't get much more embarrassed. "He was on top of me."
"Hot damn, White Boy! Get some!"
"Oh, I think he is," Santana said seductively.
Kurt composed himself, took a sip of his coffee, leaned back in his chair, and rested his hands behind his head. "It's true."
The girls laughed, before Tina grew serious. "Kurt, I really am happy for you, y'know. You deserve this."
"Thank you, Tina."
Rachel spoke up next. "Okay, Kurt. Before I say how happy I am for you too, because in all honesty, I am, I would like for you to answer one question for me." Kurt quirked an eyebrow, knowing that this could literally lead anywhere. "Is he treating you right?"
Kurt's eyes lit up and he put his hands out in front of him, clasping them together. "Oh, yes, Rachel, he really is. He is so sweet, and I assure you, he's not always all about kissing me. He tells me he loves me, he compliments me, we tease each other in the good ways, and we're still best friends, too. Sometimes he's a bit of a sap, but I love it, secretly. He takes care of me."
"I'm glad to hear that, Kurt. Tina's right, you do deserve this, and I'm glad that it's with someone as sweet as Blaine."
"Thanks, Rach."
"Y'know, Lady Lips, not only am I glad that you're getting some of that fine ass, but it's good to hear that you're happy, too."
"Aww, Satan, you're so sweet," Kurt said. His voice was laced with sarcasm, but his smile said otherwise, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze from where she was sitting next to him.
"Are you guys going to make dolphin babies?" Brittany asked.
"Guys, is she asking if we're having sex, or if we're really in love?" Kurt asked nervously, because he was not having sex yet. He might seem a little forward, but he wasn't ready to move past kissing Blaine. Most of them shrugged, but Santana just replied:
"She wants to know if you love him."
"Yes, Britt. I love my dolphin."
"Yay!" she exclaimed, and made a little heart with her hands.
"White Boy, you best know that I'm happy for you. And that if he ever hurts you that I will cut him."
"Yes, 'Cedes. I know." He chuckled, and cleared out the last of his coffee. "So girls, Friday night is the last day of the tournament, the final three rounds of all the sports are on that day, and we're allowed to invite guests. I was wondering if you would like to come and meet the Warblers?"
"Yes!" they all exclaimed at once.
"Well, I guess we're going to have a very interesting Friday night to look forward to."
Boxing was quite the scene, too. There was a whole separate room at Dalton for boxing - two, actually. They had a gym specially made for boxing, where they practiced. It had punching bags, mitts, speed bags, weights, jump ropes, everything. There was also an octagon where the fighting took place, and it was practically a stadium, with seats surrounding it. The octagon itself, naturally, was navy and red, and at the moment, no one was in it. Jeff and Kurt sat with each other, once again towards the front, waiting for the match to start. They spoke in quiet voices, Jeff explaining the rules to Kurt before the game started.
The announcer's voice filled the room, everyone falling silent at the sound. A referee entered the octagon, and the announcer stated that the rounds would work in the same way as fencing - thirty-two boys, two rounds. He called for the first two boxers to come out, and they would fight for a one minute round. Below the waist and the neck areas, as well as other illegal shots, were off limits. The fighters were trying to KO their opponent by knocking them down, and having them stay down for ten seconds.
The first round started. Each team member was wearing a hoodie of the appropriate color, and their gloves also matched. Fight after fight went by, and more than halfway through Blaine's name was called, along with another boxer from the South Wing. Kurt couldn't bear to watch as the South boy was throwing punches at his boyfriend. It looked painful, and Kurt hated to see his boyfriend in pain. He turned around and put his head in Jeff's shoulder.
"I can't watch this," he explained before Jeff could ask.
"Why? It's pretty hot," Jeff stated, his eyes trained on the match.
"I'd rather watch him hit a punching bag - something that can't hit back."
"Eh, I get it, but when Nick comes out, I am so watching, because he is good."
"And Blaine isn't?"
"Are you kidding me?" Jeff exclaimed. "He's the best on the team. Just watch. There's only like, ten seconds left. Blaine's dominating!"
Kurt reluctantly lifted his head just to see Blaine throw a punch at his opponent's stomach, and he fell to the ground, Blaine winning the round. Kurt cheered the loudest and caught Blaine's eye as he walked out. Blaine winked at him and pulled his hood over his head, "Anderson" displayed on the back of his sweatshirt.
Kurt sat through the rest of the matches, and then the next set. It had come out even, so it ended up being eight verses eight, and then even again, so four vs. four would be the next round on Thursday. Blaine won again, and so did Nick and Thad, but Wes and David both lost their rounds.
When Kurt found Blaine in the locker rooms after his final round, he was surprised to see him still in his uniform, walking towards the set of doors that lead directly to the boxing gym. Kurt followed him, and slipped through the doors just as they were about to shut. Blaine headed to a punching bag in the corner of the room, and he started beating on it as heard as he could. He threw punch after punch, jabs, crosses, hooks, and uppercuts.
"Blaine?" Kurt said quietly and tentatively. He had been standing there for five minutes, just watching. He couldn't lie, it was hot. But Blaine looked so angry that it was hard to focus on it.
Blaine's head snapped around so fast that he nearly lost his balance. He shook his head. "Kurt? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for my boyfriend."
"Why? If you don't mind, I need to keep practicing. I almost lost tonight." Kurt stepped closer to Blaine, and put a hand on his shoulder, that Blaine immediately shrugged it off.
"Blaine, I understand that you're obviously mad about something, but that's no reason to snap at me," Kurt snarled. "And you didn't almost lose tonight, and you know it. You're amazing. When you're ready to talk about whatever's winding you up, or at least stop being a douche, then come find me. I don't like treating you like this, but if you won't talk to me, then I'll be going. Have fun practicing, even though you and I both know you don't need to be doing that right now." Kurt looked furious; he turned on his heel, and flounced off, gracefully as ever, but with an angry manner.
Just as he flung open the double doors, Blaine called after him, "Kurt, wait!" Kurt took a deep breath to compose himself, and turned around, glaring at his boyfriend.
"What?" Kurt barked as calmly as he could - which was not calmly at all.
"Listen, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll explain in a few minutes, I promise. But first, can you do me a favor? It will help me calm down. It'll seem weird and stupid, but please."
"Just tell me," Kurt breathed, regaining his composure as he saw Blaine's distressed and panicked state.
"Can I kiss you?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow at his odd question, but he nodded. He felt Blaine's wrapped hands - he had shed the gloves - on his waist, and his lips on his own. He was kissing with an urgency that Kurt had never seen before, but Kurt let him. Kurt kissed gently, still feeling all of the love in Blaine, even though it was almost masked by the anger. Kurt let Blaine kiss him as long as he needed to, and when he finally pulled away, he immediately pulled Kurt into his strong, tanned, slightly sweaty arms.
"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry. Can we go talk? Please? I'll shower really quickly, and then we can talk," Blaine was nearly pleading and begging, so Kurt nodded, and took his boyfriend's hand when he was released from his arms. They had a lot to discuss.
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Next: Competition Week Part Two (possibly three, as well)
Then: Introductions and Holidays