I wrote this a long while ago, and it somehow it never got done. However, I do enjoy Skank!Kurt, and so I decided to relive it.

Also, this drabble contains kitty!Blaine, since I've never seen one and it seemed appealing to try and write it.

Title… okay, you know the TV show Lie To Me? If you understand the song reference, you may laugh at me.

(P.S: They're Skanks, they're smoking, blah blah blah. I do not smoke; I do not recommend that you do. If you do, I'm not going to try and stop you. Just no one be offended. Deal?)

White Lie

Kurt lounged on the ragged couch, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a lazy smirk playing his lips as he argue with Quinn on whether or not she should get a piercing between her nostrils.

"You're going to look like a bull."

"I won't! Just a small one," she said and brought her cigarette to her mouth.

"No go, Q. Give it up, get a helix instead. It'll suit you so much better," he offered.

"Maybe I'll get a tattoo," she mused.

"If you're tattooing Puck's initials I'm punching you," said Kurt, exhaling light-gray smoke.

"I thought you can't punch girls," Quinn teased.

"You know I don't play by rules, darling," he smirked at her.

"Mm," she nodded. "Speaking of which, what's between you and that hybrid, what's his name again?"

"Blaine? Nothing. Fucked 'im, fucked me, end of the story."

"Yeah? Because little kitty seems to be headed here," she gestured with her head towards the nearing figure, which, indeed, had a gelled hair and a tail.

Kurt turned, flashing him a bright smile. Blaine smiled back, waving his hand once. "Hi babe," he murmured sultrily when he reached their spot under the bleachers, leaning down to kiss Kurt before sitting in his lap, tail wrapping around his shin possessively. "Hi Quinn. Like your shirt," he observed.

It was a torn Beatles shirt that probably belonged to her father at some point, but Quinn nodded anyway as a silent 'thanks'. She leaned back and closed her eyes, blowing out the smoke softly and steadily before taking another drag. The soft murmurs and quiet kissing noises made her shut her eyes tighter. If she had eaten anything, she would've puked by now.

"…tonight," she caught the end of a sentence.

"Your place… mine?"

The answer was too quietly whispered for her to hear, but she was perfectly okay with that. After that, there were some more repulsive kissing noises, and then Blaine's footsteps walking away.

Quinn didn't open her eyes, exhaling to let smoke burn its way out through her nose. "You lied."

"I did," his tone was composed, but Quinn could tell he was smiling.

"You love him," she accused.

"Yeah."

"No, you don't just love him, do you?" her eyes flew open. "You're actually in love with him. Kurt Hummel fell hard."

Kurt just smirked, sucking lightly on the end of his cigarette.

Ugh, you know those crappy days when nothing turns out right? Yeah.

(Update- I just read you guys' comments, and I kid you not, my mood went up like, ten notches. Thank you, darlings. I love you.)