Catalyst

Chapter 9

By Dani J.

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Summary: Kurt and Blaine have decided to just be friends and the dapper boy realized he really missed Dalton Academy so he's gone back. No Klaine-bashing is intended, it just wouldn't have worked for this fic. However, Kurt has an admirer in a new kid… and Puck isn't happy at all but doesn't seem willing to step up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever. Blame RM and company for this unfairly attractive and addictive group of characters. Well, except for my cute, original character, Kristopher.

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Last chapter: He, Kurt Hummel, had a date with the hottest guy in school and he was just going to have fun and think about nothing else. He wasn't going to second-guess why this new kid was so into him and he definitely was not going to think about Puck sitting in the car park watching him.

Nope… this mini-date was all for fun; it was about time he started living like a teenager and not a middle-aged man worrying about everything, he scoffed at himself. Seize the day, Kurt Hummel, he laughed silently, feeling silly; seize the Kris!

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"It's just coffee, 'Cedes; why are you acting as if it's some clandestine rendezvous? And everyone says I'm the dramatic one!"

Kurt flung the soft white top he intended wearing down on his bed, careful to not let it wrinkle and huffed in annoyance at his best friend's strident tones coming clearly over the speaker of his phone.

"Kurt Hummel, you don't know anything about this boy! Yeah, yeah, I know he's cute and hot – whatever!" Mercedes' voice was shrill as she tried to convince Kurt to cancel.

"Look, didn't you say your dad needed you for something? That's why youcanceled on me, Miss Thang!"

Kurt grinned as he heard her sputter and then sigh. "Yeah, I don't know why he can't get someone else to fill in at his office. Ugh! But still, Kurt, please, just coffee, okay?"

Kurt's eyes widened as he turned to stare at his expensive phone propped up on his dresser so he could move around and still have his BFF harangue him to her heart's content.

"Mercedes Jones, excuse me?! Of course, it's just coffee. What the heck?!"

Her rich laugh rolled out of the tiny speakers and he relaxed slightly. "Oh come on, Kurt; don't pretend you don't see how that boy looks at you! It's as if he can't wait to get his hands all over your tight little butt – though who can blame him."

"Mercedes Jones!"

Her laughter bounced around the room and then, unable to help himself, Kurt joined in softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, he does have that slightly predatory thing about him doesn't he?" His voice trailed off and then, "Mmmm, so sexy!"

"Oh, come now, white boy, you've gotta promise me you won't do anything I wouldn't, please!"

Kurt sighed and wriggled into the tightest pair of white jeans he owned, zipped and buttoned it and then stepped into the ankle-high white boots he'd just bought.

"'Cedes, believe me, I have no intention of anyone pawing me – not in these white jeans that show every stain that comes within whispering distance."

He heard a faint sound that could have been her sigh of relief and grinned to himself. He turned to his dressing table and sat at it, leaning forward to examine his skin. Really, the new skincare regimen he'd just started seemed to be working wonders. His freckles were still held at bay and his skin had a soft, dewy appearance. It wasn't something most boys thought about but he knew that if he took care of his skin now, even when his contemporaries were staring down wrinkles and struggling with the thought of Botox, he would still look like a teenager.

Grinning at the sound of Mercedes' voice still droning on about what Kris was likely going to want from him, Kurt applied the tiniest amount of moisturizer and then a dab of lip balm to his plump, pink lips. He had hated the way he looked when he was little but had come to accept the fact that he would never look like a typical boy. He shrugged as he tugged an wayward strand of thick brown hair into place. You just had to work with what you have, didn't you?

He got up, strode over to the bed, his hips swaying unconsciously and stopped in front of the shirt lying there, tilting his head and wondering if he needed to wear something under it. He decided to go for a white, sleeveless vest and slipped into it and then the top, careful not to muss his hair. He strode over to his closet and perused the racks of jackets and coats he had and then reached for a navy blue pea coat, one of his favorites.

By this time, Mercedes had wound down her ranting. Grabbing the phone, he clicked it off speaker, grabbed his coat and the little backpack and skipped up the stairs.

"I'm heading out now, sweetie; I'll call you when I come back." Without giving her a chance to get a word in, he closed the phone, slipping it into his bag.

He called out to the family as he headed for the front door and his dad yelled back: "Back by 10 – school night!"

Kurt rolled his eyes as he shrugged into his coat before escaping out the front door.

He had texted the address of the Lima Bean to Kris earlier; he would be early when he got there but he wanted to be seated before the other teen arrived.

Kurt smiled to himself as he remembered Mercedes' last words. It didn't leave him much room to maneuver, considering she hardly did anything frisky on her dates with either Shane or Sam, from her own confession. Kurt, though, had been sexually active with Blaine and even though they hadn't indulged often, he had found their lovemaking to be quite satisfactory. If he had been a little disappointed the first few times, he reminded himself that mind-blowing sex probably came with time, experience and maybe familiarity.

Grinning to himself as he stepped down out of his Navigator, he locked it up and strode confidently into the café, his head up and shoulders back. He knew what people thought when they saw him; hey, there's Burt Hummel's gay kid – or maybe it was still 'faggot' kid – but he had passed beyond caring what these hicks thought of him.

Sliding into a booth near the back, he smiled at the young waitress who bopped over to him and took his order. He asked for just water as he told her he was waiting on someone and she popped her gum, smiled at him and left. Kurt idly wondered what it was like working in the food industry while going to school and once more he was grateful that his dad had his own business.

Burt Hummel had insisted that Kurt hang out with him from right after his mom had died. He had hated the shop at first, finding it loud and smelly, the men rough and loud, too. Gradually, though, he had become fascinated with what they were doing and eventually left his books and toys in the office to come and join his dad and the other workers on the floor to observe them.

Needless to say, within a couple of years, Burt had made up kid-sized overalls for Kurt who was blithely changing oil and assisting with other heavier jobs, heedless of any of that awful black grease that got on everything. He hadn't seen the way his dad had looked at him proudly until after he had changed and rotated a set of tires all by himself one Saturday.

Burt had been beaming all over his face and told Kurt upfront that he was proud of him, even if this wasn't what he wanted to do as a job later. Kurt had felt himself turn bright pink and his heart had swelled. He had never doubted his father's love but to know that he was also proud of him was a serious head rush.

Eventually, of course, he had gone into middle school and then high school and even though he still helped out occasionally with the cars and more frequently with the books, he had turned more to fashion and music. His father never made him feel, though, that he was abandoning him. When Kurt had looked guilty the first time he had asked if one Saturday he and his friends Mercedes and Tina could go to the mall instead of him working in the shop, his dad had simply nodded and smiled and asked him how much he wanted.

Kurt had rolled his eyes and informed him that it would be easier to simply give him his credit card and his dad had eyed him sternly at that. He did relent and hand over the card, though, after warning Kurt about responsibility.

The elder Hummel had watched his son wave at him and run to join his little girlfriends and, shaking his head, admitted that his son would never be like other boys… and he was fine with that. Let the homophobic assholes make all the prank calls they wanted. Kurt was a finer son than many of them could boast and he made sure to tell Kurt that on occasion.

Now Kurt's mind slowly came back to the coffee shop as he heard the rumble of a motorbike approach and then stop. He turned his head to look towards the doors and, sure enough, a tall figure in a black leather jacket stepped in and paused. Kurt lifted a pale hand to catch Kristopher's attention and he suppressed a grin at the way the other boy's face lit up.

"Kurt, hey! I'm glad you didn't decide Mercedes was more fun than me," Kris grinned as he slid into the seat opposite the porcelain-skinned youth. His eyes roved over Kurt's face before settling just briefly on the smiling pink lips. Then he looked up into Kurt's eyes and smiled broadly. "You look good enough to eat!"

Kurt immediately flushed, unaccustomed to such open and vocal admiration. His eyelids fluttered rapidly and he cursed himself for his reaction. Gosh, Kris must think I'm some bumpkin who can't take a compliment!

However, lifting his chin, Kurt stared levelly at the other boy. "Is that a line you use on all the boys – and girls?" He raised one well-groomed eyebrow and waited pointedly, his lips still curved in a little smile.

Kris held up both hands placatingly. "Hey, I just call it as I see it, seriously! My family is really outspoken and I guess I picked up the habit, naturally."

Kurt stared at him and then relented, saying softly, "Well, thank you – but it makes me a little uncomfortable."

Kris tilted his head and looked at him, frowning slightly as he leaned forward with his hands flat on the table between them. "D'you mean people don't compliment you sometimes? For real?"

Kurt looked away towards where the girl server was heading back towards them and shrugged. "Unless you're a girl, people don't just burst into flowery speech; this is the middle of Ohio, after all."

The last was said with a hint of bitterness and Kris nodded understandingly before smiling up at the girl. Her eyes widened slightly and she colored as she stared at Kristopher. Kurt held back a snort; of course, Kris was gorgeous and the girl wasn't blind.

"Hi, what I can get ya?"

Kris looked over at Kurt and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. Kurt smiled at her: "I'm actually a little hungry; could I get a cheese croissant and a grande mocha latte with skimmed milk, no whip, please?"

He looked over at Kris while she wrote that down. "What is your coffee preference or do you want something cold?"

The girl looked at Kris, too, her eyes roving over his face while she waited for his order. Kris, though, only stared at Kurt, trying to keep his eyes on Kurt's rather than his lips.

"Mmm, yeah, I'd like the same as his but maybe a Danish?"

The girl scribbled quickly and then nodded at them both before scurrying off. Kurt watched her leave with a faintly cynical expression on his face.

"So, are you used to both girls and guys falling all over themselves when you smile?"

His voice was light but Kris detected something else; clearly, the fabulous youth had not had a happy time of it here in the arse end of nowhere. Now he shook his head and smiled ruefully at Kurt and deliberately slouched back against the banquette.

"Why do you say that in such a tone, beautiful? Do you want to know if I'm bi, if I'm conceited, what?" He kept his tone light but his eyes serious, letting Kurt know that he sensed an undercurrent here. He had wanted to just have a coffee, do some light flirting and then, who knows, maybe a little kiss here or there – nothing serious.

Kurt, though, sensing that he had allowed his cynicism to sour the mood slightly, fiddled with the caddy that held the sweeteners and condiments before answering Kris.

"I'm sorry," he said now with a faint twist to his full lips. With a shrug he continued: "I'm not used to how open you are about your attraction to me. I don't know anything about you but you have been like a guided missile since coming here."

When Kris nodded seriously but didn't interject, Kurt smiled and continued, his voice softer. "You seem so comfortable in your skin, with who you are and I get the feeling that you do 'swing' both ways, as they say."

The last was said with a slight inflection at the end and Kris found himself nodding before Kurt had quite finished.

Smiling at the pink-cheeked boy before him, Kris admitted, "Yes, I've always been 'comfortable' in my own skin. I've always liked who I've liked and sometimes it's been girls, sometimes boys." He leaned forward and inched a hand towards Kurt. "Look, you know I like you; you're the sexiest thing I've seen in a long, long time, believe me."

Kurt flushed clear up to his hairline and looked about furtively to see if anyone was close enough to have heard Kristopher's words. He eventually looked back abashedly at the other boy, only to see him frowning.

Kris grabbed Kurt's hand gently, turning it over palm upward and tapped it with one long index finger.

"See, that look that you just did; where I'm from, nobody does that. We're not ashamed of what we like – who we like – and if someone has a problem with it, they soon find themselves with a face full of trouble."

Kurt eased his hand away slowly but frowned at the other boy's words. "Trouble? How do you mean?"

Kris grinned ferociously, causing Kurt to lean back slightly. "Just that anyone stupid enough to say anything homophobic or bully anyone because of their orientation gets kicked out. Zero tolerance, it's called. It helps that my dad's an alumnus of the school – and a lawyer."

His happy smirk made Kurt grin back involuntarily. "Oh, that's like Dalton Academy!"

When Kris raised an enquiring brow, Kurt went on to explain about the time he had spent at Dalton and the reasons why he'd had to go there. As he spoke though, thoughts of Blaine caused the light in his eyes to dim and Kris leaned forward once more.

"Hey, didn't you like it there – zero tolerance and all?"

Kurt shook his head, staring down at the table top. Just then the girl returned with their orders and after they'd had their first few sips and bitten into the light, fluffy pastry, he continued.

"Actually, it was great, if a little different. I was happy to come back to McKinley, though, because it's home, really."

"So why the sad eyes a moment ago," Kris pushed. "Did you leave someone behind at Dalton?"

Kurt gave a dry little chuckle and shook his head. "No, he came back to McKinley with me; pretty romantic thing to do."

Kris's eyes widened and he swallowed the sip of coffee before asking, "Yeah, so what happened; where is he?"

Kurt dipped his head, tore his croissant into pieces and muttered, "He decided he missed Dalton too much; I wasn't enough, apparently, to keep him at McKinley."

Kris's lips tightened as he looked at Kurt's bowed head. He snorted softly before muttering, "What, is he blind?" His voice was so cold that Kurt looked up abruptly.

"No, no, it's okay. I understand, you know." He looked away and then took a sip of his drink. "It wasn't really working; I think in the end I realized we had too much in common. Blaine and I, we work better as friends, y'know?"

Though his words sounded reasonable, Kris could see that there was lingering hurt in the beautiful boy and he wished fervently to be the person to banish it – or, at least, alleviate it. He reached out again for Kurt's hand and held in the sigh of relief when Kurt didn't pull away. He stared at the other boy's fascinating eyes and said solemnly:

"I like you, Kurt Hummel; you're gorgeous, smart and I know you're talented although you haven't sung for me as yet." He smirked as color swept into the smooth cheeks again. "I want more, though; I can't lie."

This was when Kurt tried to tug his hand away again but Kris held it gently but firmly. "No, listen, please. You don't know what you do to me, Kurt; I don't think I've ever been this instantly attracted to anyone. No lie."

Kurt, heart hammering in his throat, swallowed and tried to process all that Kris was throwing at him. Suddenly, unbidden, came the memory of Noah singing to him on the stage; Noah calling to apologize… and then Noah in the choir room yelling that he was no faggot.

Kurt blinked rapidly and dropped his eyes to where Kris was still holding his hand. Why he should suddenly think of Noah Puckerman, he had no idea, but the fact that he was, acted as a brake on the feelings that Kris was raising within him.

Kristopher was attractive – freaking gorgeous, in fact – and open in his admission that he found Kurt attractive. He always made Kurt feel desirable, a rarity for Kurt who found his own features to be odd and slightly unattractive. He had always wished he looked more like Finn or Sam or even Noah, conventionally normal, good-looking guys. Blaine was beautiful in a way that wasn't even normal for Lima, Ohio, but he could pass as straight and was a semi-jock, what with his boxing and love of sports.

Kurt, though, had been made to feel like he was a freak ever since he was a little kid too young to understand how different, how special he was. His mother had sheltered him for as long as she was able and then it was his dad and the men who worked for him. They couldn't shelter him from the hateful words that the other 10 and 11-year-old kids had spewed at him, however. He'd had to ask his dad what 'faggot' meant and 'gay', not to mention the more obscure ones like 'pansy' and – one memorable day after gym class – 'pillow-biter'.

He had seen the anger, outrage and, worst of all, the hurt in his father's eyes when he would ask these things, tears standing in his own eyes because, even though he didn't know the definitions of the words, he wasn't blind to the vitriol and hatred in the faces of the kids who had said them.

Now he looked at this fascinating boy, a stranger whom he'd known less than a weak, for crying out loud, and felt more accepted than he had been in all his 17 years living here. He blinked rapidly and then smiled at Kris's waiting face. He nodded and squeezed the hand that was holding his.

"I think you're very brave, Kristopher; no, I'm serious," Kurt murmured as Kris frowned slightly. "Being so out and open requires bravery, I believe that. As to the rest of what you said, I think you need glasses!"

While Kristopher digested that in surprise, Kurt pulled his hand away and grinned at him, successfully banishing the air of seriousness that had descended on the table. Shaking his head, Kris smiled at the other boy grinning so shyly back at him.

Clearly, it was not going to be an easy task to convince Kurt he was seriously interested in him. Hmmm, it simply meant that he would have to step up, accept the challenge of proving to Kurt just how interested he was. And there was no time like the present.

"Is that a challenge I see lurking in those fascinating eyes, Mr. Hummel?" Kris's voice was playful, happy as he smirked at Kurt, enjoying the way his nose scrunched as he tried to hold back his laugher. This kid was freaking adorable!

Kurt shook his head and leaned back, the tight white sweater top stretching across surprisingly broad shoulders. His blue pea coat was hanging over the back of the banquette beside him and Kris wondered what color jeans Kurt had on this evening. The boy was such a startling find in this fashion backwater, Kris couldn't help but be fascinated with him.

Just then, though, the waitress popped up to ask if they needed anything further and, after a glance at each other, both boys shook their heads. "No, thanks!"

"Okay, then, I'll be right back with your check," and she left with what she thought was a covert little glance at Kris's handsome face. When she came back surprisingly fast, she slapped it down in the middle of the table and left again, oblivious to the way both boys were staring down at the check.

Kurt immediately made a lunge for it but Kris, athlete that he was, had much faster reflexes and he whisked the check away before Kurt's fingers could touch it. He held it up and waved it, laughing at the little pout on Kurt's pretty pink lips.

"Uh-uh, next time, you pay; this is my treat!" Kris said it overly smugly, happy when it elicited a laugh from the other boy.

Kurt, trying to ignore the little bubble of happiness, crossed his arms and mock-frowned. "Ha, how do you know there'll be a next time, mister?!"

Kris, who had slid his wallet out and retrieved two tens from it, placed the money and the check together in the center of the table. He watched, wide-eyed as Kurt slipped out of the booth, reaching over to grab his jacket before straightening up.

Kurt, when Kris didn't reply immediately glanced over to see the other boy gazing at him as if stunned. Kurt colored immediately and shrugged into the coat before saying, "Take a picture, Kristopher, it'll last longer!"

Kurt smirked as faint color washed Kris's high cheekbones. The boy dragged his gaze up the length of Kurt's body and finally met his eyes.

Kris stood as well, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder and stepping aside so Kurt could pass him. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to ogle the slender boy before him. When Kurt did slip past, Kris's eyes immediately dropped down the long legs that had first caught his attention days before.

He cleared his throat and said, belatedly, "Ugh, yeah, a second date is only fair; you need to pay so that we'll be even."

Kurt's laughter floated behind him as he strode to the front of the café, pushing the door open and heading out into the cool night air. He knew that Kristopher's eyes had been riveted to his body but strangely Kurt was growing to accept that the other boy was sexually attracted to him. It made him feel powerful and confident, feelings that he'd only faked before. Now they were real and they almost went to his head.

"Gosh, that was so lame, Kristopher; but I'll let you off the hook." He spun around as they stepped up next to his Navigator, one hand on the chrome door handle. "Do you like musicals? There's a showing of 'Chicago' at the Rialto this weekend. Come with me?"

He bit his lip as he gazed up at the other boy from beneath his thick lashes. He watched as Kris's eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes – a sure sign that the other boy was thinking of something other than the question.

"Kris?"

Kris blinked at him and stepping into Kurt's personal face he leaned down ever so slightly and gritted out: "What time?"

Kurt giggled before saying a little breathlessly while trying not to lean back, "Uhhm, Saturday, 2 o'clock."

Kris stared at his mouth for a few more seconds before easing back and nodding, his eyes serious as they took in Kurt's smiling face. "Text me with your address and I'll pick you up." When Kurt's eyes lit up he continued, "Not on Elsie, though; I'll surprise you."

Kurt grinned and nodded, feeling pleased with himself. This meant that Kris had no problem with meeting his family if he wanted to pick up Kurt at home. His dad had still to get used to the idea that he and Blaine had broken up. Now, maybe, if he saw Kris coming to 'squire' him to a movie, he would have to give up on the idea of Kurt and his ex getting back together again.

As Kurt was thinking this, Kris was betting that if he met the parental units and impressed them, he would be a step ahead of Puckerman in this game. He didn't quite know what game they were involved in but he knew that he had to beat Puckerman. He sensed there was an undercurrent of something between the beautiful Kurt Hummel and that punk Noah Puckerman.

He leaned forward once more and Kurt, thinking he was going to be kissed, stiffened slightly. Kris, however, simply brushed his cheek against Kurt's lightly and whispered, "Thanks for the date," before swinging around and heading to his bike.

Kurt stared after his tall figure, his heart doing a little rapid pit-a-pat and then he hugged himself. Shaking his head, he got into his baby and, with a little toot of his horn, pulled out of the café's parking lot, a soft smile on his face.

As Kris headed for his motorbike, he admitted to himself that he wasn't accustomed to losing and he was damned if he would start now. He knew the musical and movie 'Chicago' and he was going to pull out all the stops to 'razzle-dazzle' Kurt. The boy was just too delicious to pass up and, after his disappointing 'first love', Kurt was just ripe for the plucking.

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TBC