Sofia Michelle prompted badboy!Kurt… and I added a tiny bit of Cheerio!Blaine.
Title from Taylor Swift's song "You Belong with Me".
I'm on the Bleachers
Blaine dislikes being under the bleachers.
It always smells like cigarette smoke when he's there, and he never feels comfortable enough leaning on the railing or the metal fence, with the thought of how easily it'll get his clothes dirty nagging at the back of his mind.
Well, his uniform is white and red, after all. And it's not designed to survive those stains- even if he did manage to wash the come off it that one time.
But there are always two or more of the Skanks hanging around, staring at him darkly and scaring him almost to the point of running away shrieking.
What's more, some of those guys (and girls) used to be those who tortured him constantly when he first arrived at McKinley, and he can't do anything but flinch on horror when one of them comes near, even if they won't touch him now.
All of those thoughts, though, magically disappear from his mind when he presses his lips against Kurt's.
Kurt, who spends most of his time under the bleachers. Kurt, who smokes half of those cigarettes and hang their smoke heavily in the air himself, Kurt, who wears leather jackets and has a dozen of piercings and whose hair is dyed bright pink.
And it's Kurt, who loves him so dearly, more than he'll ever admit to anyone but Blaine, Kurt who laughs more beautifully than every person Blaine knows, Kurt whose eyes glisten and his face lights up when he sees Blaine.
Yeah, that's the Kurt who's currently pushing Blaine back against the metal railing under the bleachers with a tongue in his mouth and a hand on his ass and who's also rutting up against him just a bit, moaning.
And Blaine doesn't have a care in the world.