Glee 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the result of what happens when I want to write Badboy!Blaine. Enjoy! :)**

Kurt Hummel was annoyed, and he wasn't in the mood to be pushed any further. His father woke up him half an hour later than he usually did, messing up his skincare routine profoundly. He wasn't going to change his usual ways, which led to him being nearly a whole hour late for school, since traffic was horrendous.

And then there was the fact he was wearing a white jacket, which had been smudged by the grease on his father's hand; from working with cars. Apparently, he was too busy focusing on fixing the engine on someone's car to remember to wake up his only son. Wonderful.

He trudged into class, feeling as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. His English class was five minutes off being finished, and Mrs. Keene shot him an icy glare, annoyed that she had disturbed her in the middle of one of her lectures on why smoking on class was completely inappropriate. When was she going to learn that nobody even cared about what she had to say? Nobody cared about anything but themselves and gossip, that's what Kurt had come to learn through his years of school.

"Mr. Hummel, you finally decided to join us?" She asked, hearing the sarcastic tone ring out loud and clear in her voice. Kurt tried not to roll his eyes at her, unsure if he pulled it off or not. He hoped for the best, and internally whispered a victory cheer when she didn't scold him for doing so. He took a seat besides Mercedes Jones, whispering a "Where have you been?" just as the teacher stormed over to where he sat.

She looked down at him, staring at his books. "I'm taking it that you did the assigned homework, yes?" She asked him, before he hissed out a profanity. He forgot; as his father had decided to reschedule their Friday night dinners to last night, as he was busy with his friends at the bar that day. No matter how much Kurt had told him to be careful of his health, his dad always seemed to never listen and continue to get out with people and drink beers until the early hours of the morning.

"N-no, I was too busy. L-last night." Kurt stuttered out, waiting for her to come up with some ridiculous punishment. Sure, they never tackled the main issue of obesity and homophobia; but they were always quick to punish people for never doing homework. She shook her head, that pissed off look in her eye. She pressed her glasses to her nose, slightly flipping her short, blonde bob.

"You'll be staying back an hour after school for detention with Anderson." She shoved a finger towards the boy wearing a leather hoodie, her action lacking any energy. Kurt was a little cautious of him, but he wasn't going to talk back. He missed the lesson, pretty much, and didn't do his homework. If he did one more thing out of line with her, he'd be off to the principal's office. He wasn't up for dealing with any more lectures.

Blaine Anderson turned around to face him for a brief second, staring him up and down. They hadn't really talked, except for the odd moments they shared every now and then. Sometimes, when there was nobody else around, Blaine would just strike up a conversation as if they were the very best of friends. Kurt was a little clueless as to why; had he been dared to be spoken to? He seemed pretty sincere whenever he talked, but his behaviour around others and in class may have supported his theory of being dared.

Kurt first encountered him on his orientation day. They were in the same group together, and Blaine was pretty friendly to him. The way that he had behaved, was almost endearing. Kurt thought they could've been great friends. How Blaine had talked to him about things that he enjoyed; it turned out that he also enjoyed Broadway. It didn't take Kurt long to guess that he, too, was gay. And it seemed that he was in complete denial of it, along with the former him at the time.

When a senior had crossed the hallways, Kurt swore that he saw Blaine look at the boy's ass, and saw the sudden realisation of what he had done. How Blaine looked a little afraid, an expression he had never seen since. He never pointed it out, he didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. He didn't want to screw up one of the only friendships he had made, but it looked like other people had done it for him.

Somewhere around freshman year, Blaine had showed up to school with a black eye, bruises all over his arms; impossible to miss. That's when he stopped being Kurt's friend. And that was when it seemed the Blaine he knew had gone from the face of the Earth; only to be replaced by a person that seemed the complete opposite.

Gone was the gel helmet he called his hair, and gone was the friendly attitude. He turned into a person of cruelty; teasing people he had never met. But, strangely, he never taunted Kurt. Maybe there was still a little respect that Blaine held for him. It seemed that nobody really knew Blaine's sexuality like Kurt had though. People questioned it, but there was never a direct answer. All Blaine did was flip them off before going to back to sleep in his classes.

Kurt had been concerned with the whole situation, wondering how Blaine's personality had taken such a drastic turn for the worst. He had tried keeping up conversations with him every now and then, but it only worked when they were alone. In public, Blaine would furrow his eyebrows in confusion, and walk off; leaving Kurt to feel like a complete and utter fool.

As the memories flashed through his eyes, he heard a distant voice. "Kurt?" Mercedes nudged his shoulder with her elbow, waving the other hand in his voice. He sat up with a fright, tearing the look he shared with Blaine to face her. "Kurt, what's wrong?"

"I just..." Kurt sighed, wondering how long he had been out of it for. The teacher was at her desk, typing furiously on her laptop; but there had been one thing that confused him. Why had Blaine continued to look at him? Perhaps he was thinking of similar things about their former friendship. Kurt dragged his eyes up to where Blaine had sat, to see the timid girl next to him ask a question about her worksheet. When he saw a quiet "Fuck off" escape his lips, he flinched at the harsh tone, turning back to Mercedes. "I really don't want to stay back. I was going to have a full Grey's Anatomy marathon, but this will just mess everything up."

Mercedes nodded, looking down at her work, giving a snort. "I don't understand why we have to learn this. I swear, I'm never going to run a newspaper, so I'm not sure why we need to have this shoved into our heads." He gave her a small shrug, just as the bell had rang, trying not to jump at the sudden jerk to his surroundings.

"Good afternoon, class." Mrs. Keene called out, her eyes scanning the classroom before meeting Kurt's. "And remember; Blaine, Kurt, you'll be meeting Mr. Hodge for your detention." She reminded, receiving a loud groan of annoyance from Blaine. "Is something wrong with that, Anderson?"

His eyes glinted with a sense of danger, matching her glare with an icy look of his own. "No, I just have better things to do." Blaine said, before picking up his things, strolling out of the classroom while ignoring the teacher's attempts to keep him behind. Mercedes stared at the doorway, filled with people rushing out of the room.

"I can't believe he gets away with saying that." She said, taking the books off her desk before holding them tightly as she walked past Kurt. Mercedes leant herself against the wall, waiting for Kurt to hurry up so they could get out of there.

Kurt followed her lead, letting Mercedes trail behind him as he walked as fast as he could out of there. "I think they've just given up on him..." He said, the words sounding a little too meaningful to be casual; causing him to pause abruptly in the crowded hallway. He went through possible things to discuss in his head, before seeing the perfect distraction walk straight past them. "I get that Rachel Berry is my friend and all; but if she wears another reindeer sweater, God help us all."

* * *

The events of the day had yet to put Kurt in a better mood, making him feel more and more like a loser with every passing second. During lunch break, it seemed Azimio took over the role of Dave Karofsky, taking a red slushy to Kurt's face. He should've learnt never to wear white anymore, because it was extremely hard to wash it out the stains that had always been left on it.

And it seemed Glee Club wasn't going too well either. Lauren Zizes and Sam Evans had left, along with Santana Lopez getting kicked out for leaking information to Coach Sylvester. If Kurt had to say he was surprised, it would have been a lie. Santana was dedicated to being a Cheerio. Even if she liked Glee Club, being a cheerleader always came first. Kurt knew that, as did everyone else. But it wasn't a good start to your senior year when a whole bunch of people had left.

The final bell rang, and he breathed out a sigh of relief before realising that he had to stay behind for his detention. Rachel stood up from her seat, noticing the sudden change in his mood. "Kurt, what's wrong? You don't like the song I've chosen?" She looked a little hurt at the possibility, but before he could protest, she continued on. "I swear, Adele's hurt and passion in the song would be doubled with my voice. I also cry every time I sing a solo, so that's just an added bonus to why I would suit the song perfectly." Rachel pointed out, waving her hands in the air to emphasise the statement.

Kurt got out of his seat, pushing it in slowly as he gave her a look to silence her. "No, Rachel, the song is perfect for you." He assured her, receiving a smile in return. "But I have detention for the first time in my life, and I'm a little nervous."

"You? Detention?" She made sure of it, holding back a giggle. Kurt gave her the bitchiest look he could give, even though he thought it was pretty funny. Who knew that Kurt Hummel would get detention? Even for something as weak and pathetic as not doing their homework. "What for?" He pulled out his phone, deciding that he would quickly text his father about it and turn his phone off. Kurt didn't want to be bombarded with questions.

_Busy at school, won't be home for an hour or so._

With that, he pressed the lock button on his phone, sliding his finger across the top to shut it off. "Oh, for missing out on English with Keene, and not completing the homework." Kurt rolled his eyes, and judging from the look on Rachel's face, she felt the same way as he did.

"For something as petty as that? Come on, that's ridiculous." Rachel scoffed, nudging him in the shoulder, as Mercedes had done earlier that day. "But, a detention is a detention. Looks like my best friend's become a bad boy." She gave him a quick hug as a goodbye, rushing off to Finn's locker. They greeted each other with a kiss, making Kurt cringe. Sure, the major bias of heterosexuality at the school was overwhelming, but people didn't have to rub it in his face. There was nobody like him at McKinley; it seemed as if Kurt was alone.

Well, there was _one_ person. But they were hiding it from the rest of the world. Kurt only knew about Blaine because his gay-dar was pretty spot on. Except for Sam, who had turned out to be straight. And maybe he hadn't encountered too many people like him, but that didn't count.

Kurt shoved his several notepads into his bag, along with his pencil case, before slinging the bag over his shoulder. Sure, everyone was into backpacks. Kurt Hummel was different from them. For starters, he was going to get out of this cow town. And second, he was fashionable. He wouldn't settle for comfort. Who cared if the fabric from his Marc Jacobs sweaters sometimes made his skin itch? To look good, you had to make sacrifices.

And he looked spectacular.

He decided to take his time, making sure that nobody else saw him go into the classroom. Because if Finn saw, he'd tell his step-mom or dad. And then they'd know why he was staying behind at school. Or if Puck saw, and he told Finn. Or if anyone saw, gossiped about it and Finn had heard.

Kurt heaved a sigh, knowing that Finn would eventually find out somehow.

He walked through the now emptied hallway, standing in front of the door to the classroom with butterflies filling his stomach. Of course he was nervous, this kind of thing had never happened to him before. He could already hear what was going on inside. Kurt pressed an ear against the door, his eyes darting across the place to see if anyone was approaching.

_"Mr. Anderson, this is detention, not nap time."_

_"Shut up..."_

As soon as Kurt heard footsteps coming closer, he swung the door open a little too quickly. Mr. Hodge was glaring at Blaine, who had his head rested on the desk, obviously trying to get to sleep. The teacher spun his chair around to see him, the expression of fury still covering his face, before realising it was Kurt. His expression softened, gesturing an arm towards the empty seat near Blaine.

"Sorry about that, Kurt." He excused himself, taking a sip of his coffee. Blaine's head snapped up to see him. The two exchanged a brief, regretful look before Kurt took a seat on the opposite side of the room. Blaine's soft look was soon replaced with a smirk, facing the teacher.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever Blaine had to say. Kurt was also intrigued, paying more attention to him than he should've. "You know I spat in that, right?" He remarked, leaning his head back onto the desk, into the same position he was in before. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. Mr. Hodge eyed the cup in his hand, suspiciously. He then made a face, getting up out of his seat.

He pushed the chair in, before facing Kurt. "Can you keep an eye on him? I have to go pour myself another coffee." He asked, saying the last sentence through gritted teeth. Once Kurt gave a small nod, the man walked out of the classroom, shaking his head. The door had been shut, causing the mood of the room to go from tense to just plain awkward.

Blaine turned to face Kurt, his head still resting on the desk. "Hey there.." He mumbled, the smart-ass tone completely disappearing from his voice. Kurt looked from the floor up to meet Blaine's eyes, searching for any sign of harshness or teasing. From the short time Kurt knew him, he knew that Blaine's eyes were always truthful. Whatever he hid, it always came out through his eyes.

Once Kurt had determined there was no negativity in his eyes, he decided to ignore the greeting anyways, pulling out a notepad. He wasn't sure if this was taking the high road or not. Maybe Blaine was being sincere and actually wanted to talk. But, no; Kurt wasn't giving him another chance. Their budding friendship has stopped because of him. Just completely leaving him alone, feeling like more of an outcast than he had ever felt in his life.

He had been left for nothing in a dark moment of his life. It had been around five years since his mother had died; the anniversary was bringing up unwanted memories of caskets lowered into the ground beginning to suffocate him. And when he found a friend to help support him, he had been ditched. Just like that; with the snap of his fingers.

Blaine scrunched up his face at the ignored comment, sitting back in his chair now, propping his feet up on the desk. He balanced the chair into a comfortable position, cocking his head to the side. "Looks like you've changed." He muttered under his breath, but Kurt heard it. And he looked up from his work, giving him a look of anger and confusion.

_Blaine _was telling him that _he _had changed? What kind of backwards universe was this? He couldn't help but speak up now. So much for ignoring him. "I changed?" Kurt's voice rang out loud and clear, hearing the annoyance through his voice.

He received a raised eyebrow in response, and a low chuckle. "For starters, your voice used to sound a little higher." Blaine said, his hand brushing against the stubble that had been on his once shaven chin. "And I always pegged you as the kind type. I'm just starting a simple conversation, Hummel. Is that a crime?

If Kurt had been drinking something, he certainly would've spat it out by now. He could've stood up and gone into a full rant on how Blaine had changed. And it wasn't just the husky, deep voice that came about a few years back. How he bullied people. How he treated nobody with the respect they deserved. But, no, Kurt held back on that. "Actually, my name is Kurt." He replied, stiffly, feeling a sense dèjá vú.

He heard a deep laugh, wincing at how happy it sounded. It was a far cry to the mood the other boy's tone had been with the teacher. "Those were the very first words you said to me." Blaine winked, and that's when Kurt realised he was right. At the gym, when they had been split up into their many groups. Before he could remember the conversation they had first shared, Kurt shook his head, pushing the memory away.

"I wouldn't know." He dismissed it, looking back down to his notepad. There were equations all over the page, but none of them seemed to make any sense at that moment in time. He heard the sound of feet hitting the floor, and the squeak of a chair. He didn't even need to look up to know that Blaine was walking towards him.

The other boy perched himself on top of the desk next to him, taking the notepad off Kurt's desk before promptly throwing it besides the trash can. He watched it fall to the floor with Blaine, who looked pretty satisfied with how close he was to getting it in.

"Excuse me, I was working on that." Kurt protested, glaring up at Blaine who returned the look with a smile, one of sarcasm. His eyes darted towards the clock, internally cursing to himself when he saw that only fifteen minutes had passed since he entered the room. He moved to get up, before Blaine placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back into the chair. Kurt's eyes widened, swatting the hands off him straight away. "_Don't._ Touch. Me."

Blaine scoffed, edging away from Kurt a little. He saw it again. The slight nerves that ran through Blaine's hazel-green irises, the very same he saw when Blaine checked out the senior on their orientation day. Blaine saw that Kurt was uncomfortable with it, and he retreated. But soon enough, he had to return it with a witty comeback. "I'm helping you." He grinned, and expanded on it when Kurt looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You're not allowed to leave your seat."

Kurt shook his head, the look of anger still as his expression. "You did." He wanted the other boy to leave, or he would keep glaring. And frowns did horrors for the skin. Blaine was a prime example. There were dark bags underneath his eyes, looking as if they were permanently attached to the skin.

"I don't pay attention to these things, if you haven't noticed." Blaine shrugged, as Kurt laughed at it. He stopped quickly, realising he was slipping into an old pattern. It was so easy to be nice to Blaine, after the fun memories they had shared. The exact ones he refused to think about for obvious reasons. He groaned a little too loudly at the realisation, looking up at Blaine who's expression became unreadable. Not even his eyes gave away what he was feeling.

"What do you pay attention to?" He asked, his happy tone dying down a little, replaced by one of teasing. He had to stop talking, before he got too happy. Because when he felt like this, there was always something to screw it up.

"Y-"

The doorknob twisted, and the two boys looked towards where Mr. Hodge stood with a fresh cup of coffee. His eyes were on the desk Blaine had sat in before, and back to where the both of them sat. "Mr. Anderson, back to your seat, please." He pointed, before Blaine hopped off the desk, trudging to his other place. He relaxed his head on the desk, and it seemed the teacher had given up all hope of telling him not to fall asleep. "He didn't mess anything else up, did he?"

But before Kurt could tell him no, a voice came from the other side of the room, muffled by the desk. "You may not want to sit on your chair. Loosened some bolts." He mumbled, and Mr. Hodge gave Kurt a look of disappointment.

"He's kidding, he didn't do anything." Kurt defended himself, and.. was he defending Blaine? No, of course not. He was covering for himself, because if he allowed Blaine to do that, he'd be in worse trouble then he already was. "He's not capable of it."

Blaine laughed, sounding bitter, and Kurt silently hoped he wouldn't say anything else offensive. He could only hope. "Are you questioning my skills?"

Mr. Hodge gave the two a suspicious look, walking over to the chair. He placed the cup on his desk, before cautiously taking a seat. When he realised that Kurt was telling the truth, he gave the student an apologetic look. "Sorry I doubted you." Kurt ducked his head, forgiving him. He had to. It wasn't in Kurt to hold grudges.

Unless it was _one_ particular person. And even then, it wasn't even much of a grudge.

The teacher cleared his throat, digging through a pencil case for a red pen to mark his large stack of papers with. He exhaled an exhausted sigh, looking as if he would rather do anything else but mark words. "I can't be bothered with you, Anderson. Just get out, and I'll arrange something extra for you later." He told Blaine, who grabbed his backpack with his hand, already half way across the room. "You too, Kurt."

Before Kurt could jump out of his seat, Blaine was already rushing out of the door. He followed Blaine's lead, giving Mr. Hodge a quick "Thank you" as he rushed out of the room. The teacher rolled his eyes, wondering why there weren't more kids like Kurt Hummel. Even if he was in detention, he seemed like a good kid.

"Talk to you later, Hummel." Blaine called out when he walked the opposite way Kurt was heading, to his locker, realising he had left his phone in there. He saw the other boy walking towards the school's exit.

"Yeah right." Kurt retorted, the pace of his walking speeding up now, since he had said that out loud. He wasn't supposed to, but he was doing a lot of things he wasn't supposed to do today. For starters, getting a detention was completely out of the blue.

Blaine stopped walking the opposite way, turning around as he saw the door shut, the sound echoing throughout the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I think I have a fair idea of where to go with this story...**

**Mentions of self harm and a fair amount of angst.**

* * *

The following days for Kurt Hummel had been peculiar. More so than often. It was as if the world wasn't as it seemed anymore; deciding to throw new twists in his life. He didn't understand what he had done to deserve all the change, but here it was. From his life being pretty quiet to everything just thrown in his face. It wasn't pleasant, either. He leaned his head against his locker, feeling completely exhausted.

It seemed as if Blaine had become more confident in talking to him in public, sitting beside him in most of his classes. Although such a thing wasn't a big deal to most people, it was to Kurt. Because it looked like Blaine was trying to get in his good books again.

And he could not allow such things to happen.

"_Kuuurt..._" Blaine whispered to him, as Kurt furiously scribbled down notes in his Biology class. He shot a quick, annoyed glare at the boy, before returning to his notepad. This didn't seem to stop Blaine from interrupting him from his work. "Kurt! Hey, Kurt; remember freshman year? When you nearly set fire to my bowtie?"

"Yes.. why?"

And the playful attitude had vanished quickly, causing Blaine to retreat back to his normal persona as a few football players had walked past. "I dunno, I just remembered it." He gave a shrug, chuckling when Kurt edged a little further away from him. Kurt couldn't put the pieces together. Was it because of their one conversation during detention? Had that just magically fixed everything between them? No, it shouldn't be like that. It wasn't right if Blaine did think like that. He would never forget the things he felt.

How he saw Blaine all bruised, going to check on him. All he received in response was a "_Fuck you_" and that... that glare. The look that would never escape Kurt's mind. How he looked as if he absolutely detested him. The feeling of hurt and abandonment pierced into his memory. Kurt felt his heart drop a little, taking several books out of his locker to put in his bag.

Why had he felt so strongly over it? He had no idea. He should've moved on; friends came and went, as he had observed from other people. But there was something about Blaine that he missed. Something he wanted. Their friendship had meant so much to Kurt; considering that he was the only friend Kurt had really connected with.

But that was in the past. Couldn't Kurt just accept it? It wasn't like Blaine wanted to start over. Nothing could bring them back to the start; two complete strangers, seeking comfort from each. It was a distant memory now, nothing more.

Even if a small part of Kurt still wanted that friendship.

Kurt cursed internally, before shutting up as he heard familiar voices from the end of the hallway. Azimio's booming voice, obviously bullying someone or getting angry. Either one was bound to be happening. He sent a quick look his way to find out it was Blaine that was Azimio was talking to.

"-spending so much time with the fairy?" A finger was pointed towards Kurt, who turned to his locker quickly before anyone could notice he was eavesdropping. He made a face, reminding himself that he was better than them all. That one day, he'd be in New York, living it up on Broadway; and that these people would probably work at fast food joints, cleaning toilets and what not. "Are you trying to tell us anything? Is this your way of telling us your a queer?"

He heard a laugh come from Blaine, the bitter sound causing Kurt to shiver. "I don't spend time with him." He sounded so sure of it, like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Jenni told me about it-"

"Jenni lies about a lot of things. Her virginity, being 'in love' with you and where she spends her Saturday nights." Blaine interrupted, the sneer coming through his voice. "You want to believe a thing she says? Go and do it." It sounded like Blaine was challenging him, something that most people would be interested in. A fight in the school hallways, just the thing to brighten everyone's dull and dreary day.

Kurt turned around just in time to see Azimio give an obscene gesture, walking off with a huff. Blaine shook his head in disbelief, before he looked up at Kurt, their eyes locking together for a few moments. Kurt wanted to look away, but he just couldn't. Something about the longing in his hazel-green eyes. Like there was some hidden message behind it.

Blaine ended their look, sauntering towards the front door, swinging it open; so hard that the door slammed against the wall, shutting behind him just as quickly.

* * *

Blaine was embarrassed.

Yes, that seemed like a logical reason. Blaine was popular and everyone acknowledged him. Kurt, on the other hand, was always teased. So, of course Blaine should have some cautions about approaching him.

Then again, it would've been nice if that wasn't a problem for anyone. But, then again, it _was _high school. These small, insignificent problems had an effect on people.

It made him feel hurt to think that Blaine was embarrassed to be around him in the public eye, but there was a part of him that didn't care. He tried caring about Blaine before, but where did that get him?

Alone.

Kurt decided to go to his safe haven, other than his room, and help out with his father at the garage. He wore a plain white singlet and black skinny jeans, both items complimenting his body nicely. But Kurt thought it was still way too plain. He wouldn't be caught dead in these clothes at school or shopping at the mall. He had a repuation to maintain with his fashion, he knew this.

Fashion was something he invested himself in when he was upset, or stressed; and as the two emotions were flooding through his mind at that moment, he was a little annoyed by his clothes.

He'd rather that get dirty than his Alexander McQueen cardigans.

He wiped down the car doors with a damp rag, rubbing the dirt off with ease. Kurt sighed in relief, proud that he had cleaned his fifth car in the space of an hour.

Kurt was about to head off, wiping the minute amount of sweat from his forehead, before a hand grabbed onto his waist.

"I should've known the name sounded familiar." A voice whispered in his ear, as Kurt jumped in shock, like someone had sent a shock through him. He turned, resulting in the two of them standing face to face, with hot breath ghosting over their mouths. "So, got any lube?" Blaine asked, a devious smirk on his face.

Kurt froze up, looking around to see if there was anyone there. Not to his surprise, the garage was quiet, with just the two of them. "Of course. Personally, I'd recommend using it on other areas other than your body, though." He squirmed away, although he managed to match the cunning look.

"Funny." Blaine rolled his eyes, as Kurt saw the striped black and dark green polo he wore, missing his usual leather jacket. His tongue ring clicked against the roof of his mouth, mouths curling into a cheeky grin. Kurt couldn't help how his heart fluttered a little at the sight, but took a calm breath, opening and closing his hands as a nervous habit. "I suppose you're not going to ask why I'm here?"

"Why on earth would you come to my father's garage of all the people in Lima?" Kurt asked, crossing his arms against his chest. "And if you say flavoured lube, you're in the wrong place, Blaine."

Blaine chuckled, low and deep in his throat, and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "I'm here because my car engine's been fucking up and making some weird noises." He explained, shrugging, glancing towards the door. "Do I talk to you about this? Because, no offense, I don't see you telling me what to do with this sort of thing."

"No offense taken." Kurt looked at his shoes, as he shook his head. "And, no, those things are for my father. I just clean these pieces of junk." He scoffed, grabbing a clean rag from a nearby rack, pressing it to the back of his neck. "Before you ask, it gets pretty hot in here."

Blaine raised an eyebrow, about to say something suggestive before Kurt glared at him, shutting his mouth. "Can't handle my wit, now?" He teased, running a hand through his curly hair. He was about to say something when a pair of footsteps came through, and Blaine's calm attitude disappeared.

It was replaced with the usual, barely caring, Blaine Anderson that people had grown more accustomed to.

Burt and Finn were walking through, stopping when they saw Blaine. Finn looked at Kurt with a curious expression, whilst Burt looked awkward. "Hey there... Blaine?" He gave an uneasy smile, not sure if it was really him or not, walking over towards the both of them. "Do you need anything?"

Of course, Burt would be a little weary of Blaine. Hell, after what Kurt told him regarding their friendship, he wasn't sure why this boy had the nerve to show up and ask for help. But, he had a motto. Everyone deserved second chances.

He guessed it applied to Blaine too.

"My car fucked up and I was wondering if you could see what was wrong with it." He said, taking pride in how Burt flinched at the curse word.

Burt let it slide, getting the impression that this guy wasn't going to listen to any comments he would make. "Could you be more specific with the problems?" He asked, hoping the boy would co-operate.

Kurt and Burt followed Blaine to his car, so he could explain further about what was going on with his car. But, there was something that caught his attention.

On the interior rear view mirror, there was two photos dangling from it.

One of a younger looking Blaine with his father, but the quality was very creased, drastically affecting how it looked. Blaine was wearing a pink bowtie, grinning up at the older man. And, really, they looked like a perfect family.

The other was one of him and Kurt at a fun fair, carrying a bucket of cotton candy and a stuffed tiger. Blaine was grinning at him, who had his left hand hanging out awkwardly. Kurt couldn't resist the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. He held back laughter on the memory, how he sprained his hand by tripping over on a miniscule rock.

Blaine felt a buzz go off in his pocket, and he excused himself, answering the phone with gritted teeth. "Mom?" He greeted with a cold voice, before his angry expression turned painful. "Why are you calling me like this?"

Kurt exchanged a look with his father, the two of them looking concerned. Blaine noticed their look, and walked away, closing his eyes. He lowered his voice with an ueasy expression over his face. "This isn't healthy for you, okay? Imagine what Dad would say if he saw this and-"

Blaine winced, as a loud voice yelled at him through the phone. The two stood there, awkwardly, able to hear the distorted voice as a small whisper. They couldn't understand the words, but the emotion was raw and painful, and it seemed to affect Blaine in some way.

He walked off further down the street, as Burt shuffled closer to Kurt. "Is he okay?" He mumbled, adjusting his cap, looking for something to do.

"I don't know." Kurt admitted, giving a shrug of his shoulders as they waited for Blaine to finish the phone call.

Only a few minutes passed when he finally walked over, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. "I need to go, family needs me at.. at home." He muttered, hiding his face as he placed the key in ignition. "I'll come back another day or whatever, though." Blaine gave a forced smile, reversing into the street, before driving off without another word.

Kurt frowned, telling his father that he was going to go home and get started on his skin care regimen. After a quick goodbye, he hopped in his Navigator and got started on the short drive home, trying not to think about it too much.

But, as he passed the local park, he couldn't help but notice Blaine's car parked beside the footpath; with it's only occupant sobbing as he leant against the steering wheel. Kurt felt a twinge of guilt pass through his heart, yet he decided it was best to keep driving.

* * *

Blaine didn't show up to school the next day.

Kurt frowned, wondering why the other boy had disappeared to, whilst he neatly placed his books back in their locker. It wasn't too decorated, other than a few photos with the members of New Directions.

Sure, he used to have a photo of Blaine and himself, but that was until Blaine ripped it out and tore it to shreds. Literally.

That was one memory that he had definitely suppressed to a high extent.

He hated dwelling on those days, but it was like he had to. His mind couldn't really escape it, and he had no clue why. Kurt groaned, walking from his locker, passing the janitor's closet. He paused, closing it, before hearing a noise.

"I need air to breathe, you know?" Blaine snapped, as the door creaked open. Kurt's eyes widened, checking around him to see if anyone was nearby, before opening the door half way.

"_Blaine?_"

Kurt sighed, going for broke, and took a step in to crouch beside him. Blaine mumbled something, shifting so Kurt could get extra room. Blaine had dark bags under his eyes and was holding onto his phone for dear life. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Blaine huffed, but made no effort to get up. "Why would you care?" He asked, folding his arms, looking exhausted.

Kurt frowned, resting against the wall with Blaine, letting his legs brush against his. "Why wouldn't I?" He asked, shifting himself to a more comfortable position. Kurt kicked the door closed with his foot, hearing it lock before turning back to Blaine. "...are you okay?"

Blaine scoffed, as the pain shot through his eyes. "I've been better." He pursed his lips, as if to hold back from saying something.

There was a brief silence, and Blaine could feel himself slowly breaking under the influence of Kurt's gaze. Because _god, why did he have to stare at him like that? _It was like Kurt was trying to look into his soul.

There was a sound of a quick breath, and before he knew it, Blaine could feel his eyes start to water.

No. He was _not _supposed to be crying. Not in front of Kurt, not in front of anybody. He hastily wiped at his eyes. And, yeah, he would've been fine; if it wasn't for how Kurt had pulled him into a tight hug; awkward, and sideways, but the meaning was still loud and clear. Blaine gasped, shutting his eyes as hard as he could.

Kurt hadn't had a clue on what to do. The hug was supposed to help, but it looked like it only made things worse. Because now, the toughest guy in his year was crying into his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay." He mumbled, wondering what was going on Blaine's head.

The boy trembled, tears spilling down his face as he clutched at his chest; as if he could actually feel his heart breaking in two. "Kurt..." He whispered, reaching his hand into his pocket. "I need... I need you to do something. I know you h-hate me, but please..."

Blaine pulled out a razor blade, fresh and untouched, with a plastic cover on the sharp edge. Kurt looked at it, trying to figure out what it meant, because it couldn't have been what he was thinking... right?

"Take it away from me, please." His voice broke, as he rested his head against his knees, curling himself up. "Burn it, throw it out; whatever. Just... get rid of it."

Kurt scanned the blade in horror, because _holy shit, this was bad. _He stuffed it in his pocket, and shook his head, holding Blaine close. "Why would you think about this?" He asked, rubbing his hand against his back in circles. "Why?"

Blaine sniffled, his sobs calming down now. "I... I need you to do something with me." He blurted out, looking up at Kurt, with pleading eyes that shone with tears. "C-can you meet me at the front of the front doors on Saturday? I promise it's nothing bad, I just... I need someone here. Since nobody else really cares..."

Kurt gulped, unable to reject those eyes and that look of utter devastation. "Okay." He frowned, as Blaine rested his head on his shoulder.

He cursed internally, knowing that he was digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole that he'd thought he'd escaped from.

* * *

**A/N: I might start posting little previews on my stories. That won't start today, though.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, Klaine does this to me... I couldn't think about updating any Kurt/Blaine stories in the break up aftermath. It hurt. But I'm here now, at least. Trying hard to update more often, though.**

**Oh my god, along with the fact that the title has to do with 'The Scientist.' That isn't even the song I based the fic from, so sudden case of the feels. Gee whiz..**

* * *

_[12:40am] Wear a suit._

Kurt re-read the message that had appeared on his screen hours before, knowing who it was from; but it still baffled him. A suit?

He stood before his closet, running his hand along the many clothes and humming to himself. Kurt pulled on one of his ivory-coloured blazers, tugging on the sleeve as he analysed it.

Kurt bit his lip, wondering if the bright colours would be too much of a contrast to Blaine. Of course, he had no clue what the boy was going to wear; but Blaine was into the more... 'darker' colour scheme

Instead, he pulled out a dark gray, tweed blazer; complete with black pants and matching, slightly pointed, shoes. He nodded at the choice, laying it on the bed carefully, before heading to the bathroom to dry his hair and clutching the phone in his hand.

He made a face at his reflection in the mirror, picking at a loose strand of hair absently. Kurt reached for the hair dryer, about to switch it on when his phone buzzed from its place on the bench.

Kurt placed the hairdryer back down, taking his phone in his hands to see the screen light up at the touch of his fingertips.

_[3:04pm] I'm waiting._

He narrowed his eyes at the text, before checking the digital clock in the corner of the display screen.

Three o'clock.

Blaine had specifically told him that he had to leave at four. He groaned, dropping the phone back onto the bench as he grabbed his hairdryer in a rush.

"Stupid Blaine and his stupid timing." He muttered, as he switched the device on, barely hearing himself over the blaring sound of wind rushing through his hair. "Why am I even doing this? I mean, what the hell am I going to get out of this?"

Of course, he sounded selfish. But he wanted something good to happen for him; just once. Even for a few, minute seconds of glory; that was all he craved.

Kurt ran his fingers through his hair, hissing now and then at the heat that would sting his exposed skin.

He would've been precise, as always, if it wasn't for the stupid mess up with the time; even though Kurt would quite sure that they were on for four.

_They._

He flinched at the term, touching his hair to see if his hair was any less damp than it had been before. Realising it hadn't, he glared at hairdryer, sighing to himself as he held it closer to his locks.

Whatever Blaine needed, it'd better be important.

* * *

Blaine threw the cigarette to the ground, promptly stepping on it with his foot. Of course, his mother was going to scold him for using his dress shoes to do that, but he needed a smoke. It calmed him down, most of the time. He slipped back into the passenger seat of his car, clearing his throat as he did so.

He flicked through the radio, hoping for something happy and upbeat to come on. Something that would make his issues melt away for a few minutes. When he realised that the usual, over-repetitive garbage was on, he dug his hand into the small compartment beside him; looking for a CD.

Blaine smiled at the copy of 'Teenage Dream' and took the disc out, gently sliding it into the CD player.

As the music filled the car, he pushed the chair all the way down; laying on it as he stared up at the ceiling. And, before he knew it, he was drifting off into a peaceful, and well-needed, sleep.

Or, at least, until he heard a loud, timid knock on the window.

_"Blaine?"_

The boy sat up, hitting his head against the roof of his car, his right hand flying up to rub at the sore spot. He quickly reached over to the stereo, turning the music all the way down and changing to a random radio station, not caring what it was.

He waited for the window to roll down, poking his head out with a tired, weary look. "What the fuck do you want?" Blaine yawned, looking at the ground to avoid the sunlight getting to his sensitive eyesight.

"I'm here because you told me to come, actually." Kurt remarked, tapping the scratched mirror of Blaine's sedan. "And if this some sort of act because I'm late, then you should really give up. Fifteen minutes isn't that bad."

Blaine climbed over the throttle and compartments, opening the door for him to come in. "No, it's because I was trying to get some shut-eye." He snapped, annoyed that his sleep was short. He cleared his throat as he sat up in his seat, waiting for Kurt to shut the door so he could start driving. "Anyways, fifteen minutes is still fifteen minutes, Hummel."

Kurt sighed, clicking his seatbelt in as they drove off, looking over with a raised brow. "So, going to find a secluded area to bury my body?" He asked, the sarcasm dripping from his voice; but the attitude disappeared straight away when Blaine flinched, gripping onto the steering wheel. "...hey, Blaine?"

"What?"

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, his tone considerably softer than a second before. "My father's going to have a h-heart attack if he doesn't find out where I am." He joked, but he wondered why he'd chosen those exact words. Putting the words 'father' and 'heart attack' in the same sentence wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had.

Blaine tensed, stopping at the traffic lights. If Kurt could describe how Blaine looked, it would be that he looked like a young child who was told his puppy had been hit by a car. He looked so heartbroken, the bags under his eyes even more noticeable than the last time they'd seen each other.

He frowned, leaning back into his seat. "We're going to watch my father get buried." Blaine mumbled, eyes trained in the fabric of the wheel, trailing his fingers over it absently. "And then, you're taking me to a bar and I'm going to forget my last name."

Kurt's jaw dropped an inch, subconsciously leaning a hand over and placing it on Blaine's arm. "I'm so sorry-"

"I don't want pity." He shrugged away Kurt's grip, who just dropped his hand back into his lap. "I don't know many people, and I know that we aren't as close as once upon a time, but..." Blaine sighed, pushing his foot against the accelerator. "I don't know, talking to you in detention reminded me of the good times we used to have."

_Me too._ Kurt blinked, nodding slowly to himself. _But it wasn't my fault that our friendship stopped, if you remember clearly._

It was silent for a few seconds as Blaine looked up at his mirror, seeing the two photos dangling from it. "I know it's stupid, but I still have this photo." He said, smiling fondly. "It was when we went to the local fair. I tripped over a fucking rock, for god's sake."

Kurt laughed, bowing his head at the memories that flashed through his mind. "I remember. You won me that tiger, and I thought you were gifted at basketball. Until I realised you didn't go through a growth spurt." He grinned, as Blaine spluttered.

It was like a switch had been flicked inside of him. Kurt knew it was too good to be true; remembering how Blaine had been before. Bottling everything in and pretending everything was good.

Except, maybe the laugh that came from him wasn't fake. It sounded warm and genuine, something that surprised him.

"It's not my fault you're so freakishly tall." Blaine teased, rolling his eyes as he made a left turn into a quieter street. "You know, I'll become as tall as Godzilla. That's my theory. By the time that I'm twenty, I'll be the tallest guy that anyone has ever seen."

"Keep dreaming, Blaine."

It was shocking the both of them how, even after years of not speaking and a fall out, that they could still revert to their old ways. Their usual teasing and playful mannerisms.

Blaine laughed, taking another left turn. "So, when did become such a naughty boy?"

Kurt coughed, looking at him with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You got detention." He waggled his eyebrows, glancing sideways at him before focusing back on the road. "What were you in there for? Light a fire to Mr. Elliot's hair? Punch a nerd in the face?"

Kurt looked out the window, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't do homework." He said, as Blaine scoffed beside him. "I know, it's stupid. Mrs. Keene was probably on her period or something." He rolled his eyes, the other boy humming in half-hearted sympathy.

"She's an old hag, not to-" He stopped, as he turned again, looking forward to see the entrance to the small church; with family and friends lined up in dark suits, looking solemn. "...worry."

Blaine sat, ignoring Kurt's queries on how he was feeling, just letting the silence calm his nerves. He rubbed the outside of his blazer's sleeve, where his wrist would be, wincing at the thoughts that flashed through his head.

"Blaine?" A hand tapped on the window, causing him to jump in his seat.

He looked up with bored eyes, scanning his mother; who wore a black, knee-length dress, with a matching fascinator propped on how head. He groaned, unbuckling his seatbelt. "For fuck-"

"We're at church, young man." She whispered, opening his door. "Please don't start anything today and... Kurt?"

Kurt made his way out of the car, twirling around at the sound of his name. He met Mrs. Anderson's surprised look with a polite smile. "Um.. Blaine asked me to come." He explained, glancing over at the boy, who was tugging on his tie. He only realised that he hadn't really paid attention to what Blaine had worn.

It was a dark suit, a light grey tie and his hair was back to its gelled state of freshman year. He looked clean and put together, something that was a rare sight to see these days. It was a change from his jackets and worn-out sneakers.

She nodded once, attempting to adjusting her son's tie, who swatted her hand away within seconds. "He needs someone, I guess." Mrs. Anderson paused, looking around briefly as she took a step forward. "Could you... um, keep your sexuality to yourself? It's not that I'm against it at all, I promise, so please don't take any offense to this. But there are people in there that may, and I want this funeral to be peaceful."

Kurt looked at her with furrowed brows, and saw Blaine cringe in the corner of his eye. He exhaled, shoulders slumping at the thought of how there were, most likely, a few homophobes in there. It was a church, so the possibility was inevitable. "S-sure."

He was sure it was obvious what his preference was; Kurt knew he looked too feminine to be straight. But, hopefully, people wouldn't tell.

"Let's head inside, okay?"

* * *

Kurt hadn't found the ceremony any different to the funerals he'd attended in his life. There was the small gathering of close people to the deceased, and they'd all share fond memories of them. Everyone was crying and there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

Except for one person. Of course, it was always him who was the odd one out.

Blaine hadn't said a thing, just looked straight ahead with a blank stare, like it was too much to comprehend. Kurt looked around to see if people were looking, before sliding his hand into Blaine's. He sighed in relief when Blaine didn't pull away and run to the other side of the church.

Even though he felt a great amount of pity, he never prayed. Not once. He had thought about it, but seeing how empty Blaine looked, it convinced him not to. If there was a god up above, he wouldn't have made people suffer like this. Kurt tugged on his hand when the funeral procession began, and they made their way to the cemetery, only two minutes away.

Once they made it to the cemetery, and his body had been buried, Blaine walked off; not bearing to speak to anyone.

"Blaine?" Kurt ran after him, tugging on his arm. "Blaine, where are you going?"

He spun around, looking anguished, but his voice had a surprisingly calm tone to it. "I'm going to get wasted." Blaine stated, giving one last look towards the family members that hugged and exchanged condolences. "Can you drive? I don't really trust myself to do anything other than smash that piece of junk into a tree."

Kurt gulped, not trusting himself to speak. He nodded, as Blaine stormed off to his car, getting into the sedan and curling himself into a ball; as if he was retreating on everything. Kurt started the engine up, about to make his way to the closest bar he could remember; until he knew of an even better place.

The drive wasn't too long, but the silence made it seem like hours had past until they finally pulled up into the driveway. Blaine sat up, ready to race out and drink anything he could see. But he paused, scanning the building with confusion.

"We're at your house." Blaine whipped his head around to look at Kurt, who was already out of the car and outside his door. He opened it, as Blaine reluctantly stepped out. "Kurt, why am I at your house?"

"Getting drunk in a room full of strangers isn't the best idea you've ever had, Blaine." He quipped, shutting the door behind him. "I have alcohol, no need to worry. But I'd rather you do it here instead of a bar. And you need to be somewhere other than your house. I know what it's like to lose someone, remember?"

Blaine's lip parted into a circular shape, looking at his shoes. "Oh, yeah..."

Kurt hummed, walking inside the house. "You'll go inside your house and it's all going to hit you hard. You can't go back while the wounds are still fresh." He told him, his shoulders feeling heavy as he thought of the day of his mother's funeral. "Go downstairs to my room and just wait until I get there before you start 'forgetting.'"

After a moment of awkward silence, Blaine entered and walked straight past Finn, who looked fearful to see him in his house. Once the sound of a door shutting echoed through the house, the taller boy rounded on Kurt. "Dude, I'm actually safe from him in my house, and now you bring him here?" Finn groaned, looking distressed.

"Bring _who_ here, exactly?" Burt took a step in the room, eyebrows raised as he waited for an answer. Finn gave a silent apology, as he walked off into the living room. Kurt's father took this as his cue to walk over closer. "Somethin' you want to tell me?"

Kurt sighed, glancing in the direction of the stairs as he lowered his voice. "Blaine's here." He whispered, as Burt crossed his arms in protest.

"I thought he was an asshole." He said, as Kurt couldn't help but smile at the word he'd called Blaine years ago. "Kurt, I don't get it. Don't you hate him or something?"

Kurt shook his head quickly, raising his hands up in the air. "No, I never hated him." He defended himself, hushing his father in case Blaine had heard. "Listen, he just lost his dad. He hasn't got anybody and I don't want him to go to his house..." Kurt trailed off, as Burt watched him with softer eyes. "So I'm letting him stay the night."

"You didn't think to ask me first?" Burt asked, but held up a hand to stop Kurt from interrupting. "I understand, though. Would've appreciated the notice that my son was bringing another boy over but-"

"It's not like that, though. He's straight, don't worry." Kurt narrowed his eyes, as his father's demeanor changed to amazement.

Burt awkwardly ran his hand up the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable. "He's.. uh, not into that sort of thing?"

"No." Kurt said, laughing at how his own father had the sensation that Blaine was gay. "You look a little bit surprised." He smiled, patting a confused Burt on the shoulder, before making his way down the stairs. He stopped at the foot of the staircase, turning back to his father. "Can you not come down, though? Not for any... personal reasons." He confirmed, as Burt awkwardly shuffled on the spot. "He needs space."

"Sure thing. Call me if you guys need any food though." He waved a hand, and Kurt scoffed. He gave his son an incredulous look, mocking an attempt of being offended. "Are you laughing at my cooking skills?"

Kurt grinned, shaking his head. "There aren't any skills to laugh at, dad." He winked, finally walking down and opening the door.

Burt sighed, leaning his hand against the wall. "God, you're just like your mother.." He whispered, glancing at a photograph of his late wife, before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter is set between a few different periods of time. Fair warning, it'll be sad for a little while. Where's the fun of giving them happiness straight away?**

**As to why I'm horrible at posting new chapters, I'm in four or so different roleplays so updating fanfiction can be difficult. But, I'm trying- really. Also, this is a little shorter but... it'll be longer soon.**

**Upgraded to M rating, for reasons that'll be clear.**

* * *

_Kurt turned the knob, peeking his head through the door. "Got it." He announced, waving his hand, with a bottle of whiskey clutched tight in its grip, high in the air with a triumphant smirk. "Sorry it took so long. He nearly saw right through me.."_

_Blaine looked up from where he lain on Kurt's bed, eyes pleading with him. "Wait, shut the door first." He whispered, jerking his head towards the open door, with Kurt laughing as he closed it behind him. "Hey, come on... don't judge. I've never done this kind of thing before. And I- I really don't see the point in it. From what I've heard, it just causes problems and it doesn't even taste nice-"_

_"You're rambling again." Kurt pointed out, toeing off his shoes and sitting on the bed beside him. "Don't assume it without even a little sip. Anyways, it'll only causes problems if you have too much. You think I'd let you try if I thought you'd get addicted? It's safe, I promise." He gave a pointed look, brow raised in slight amusement. "Drink up."_

_He gave a questioning look, eyeing the bottle for a minute, before giving in. "Fine. But, I'm blaming you if things go wrong. I've seen movies, I know what happens when people get drunk. Expect dancing, and _lots_ of it." Blaine grinned, before Kurt extended his arm, giving a playful slap against his chest. Blaine winced, his mouth curled into a forced smile as he clutched an arm around himself._

_Kurt's heart stopped for half of a second, his gaze flickering between Blaine's eyes and chest. "That wasn't too hard, right?" He asked, trying not to look too worried, knowing he failed._

_Blaine quickly shook his head, hand reached out to rest upon his knee. "It wasn't you, don't worry. I... walked into your table, earlier." The excuse was rushed, and barely convincing, enough to catch Kurt's attention. "No big deal, okay?"_

_"Blaine, what're you talking about-"_

_"I thought you were pouring." He reminded, hand pulling away, despite Kurt's attempt to grab onto it. Blaine sat up straight, dropping his hands in his lap as he stared at the bottle. "Oh, and just a warning- sorry if I spit it out. My cousin said it tastes pretty bitter and-"_

_"Hah, not on these sheets, you aren't." Kurt muttered, brushing the concern aside as he held out the full shot glass before him, Blaine hesitantly taking it. "Cheers, Blaine."_

_"Cheers." Blaine took a deep breath, eyeing the glass with raised brows. "Here goes..."_

* * *

Kurt slowly opened the door, to find Blaine clutching a bottle of bourbon close to his chest. "_Blaine!_" He snapped, rushing over to snatch the bottle. "I told you to wait for me, Blaine. How much have you had, anyways?"

"I dunno." Blaine shrugged, eyes unsteadily following Kurt. Already tipsy, he gave up quickly and relaxed back into the bed, hands hovering up and down the sheets. "Why can't you let me have some fun? Jus' gimmie the bottle back."

"No." He snapped, forehead creased in concern. "Look at it." Kurt said, holding the once full bottle to reveal a quarter of it downed already. Blaine glanced towards it, before returning his head back to the pillows. "Blaine, for god's sake, just listen to me."

Blaine rolled his eyes, sitting back up. "Hummel, you don't know what's going on-"

"I know I don't." Kurt gave an exasperated sigh, walking over to his vanity and placing the bottle down. "But I want you to calm down for a second, okay?" He asked, trying not to get his hopes up too high. "If that's not what you want, fine. Be reckless and take this." Kurt said, gesturing towards the bottle.

After a moment of deliberation, Blaine stood, walking over to take the bottle away. Kurt sighed, staying in his seat as he watched the other take a swig. "Just... save some for me, right?" He zoned out from the hum in response, staring back at himself in the mirror.

_What _could_ he do?_

It didn't take long before Blaine sat the bottle down on the bedside cabinet, getting back on the bed and curling in on himself. Kurt watched him for a little while, trying to figure out what to say, how he could comfort him. He gulped, rising from the chair and slowly walking towards the edge of the bed.

"Blaine, are-"

"I'm not insane, y'know." Blaine muttered, looking over his shoulder. "I'm many things, but I'm not crazy. Or, at least, not yet." He scoffed, as Kurt sat beside him. A beat later, he took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. "Car accident."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Truck crashed into his side of the car. Killed him on impact." He slurred, arms wrapped around Kurt's pillow. "I could've helped. He could still be here if it wasn't for me. Why wasn't I faster, Kurt? Why?" Blaine whimpered, a salty tear trickling down his cheek. "Don't answer, whatever- he's gone now. And here I am- with you-"

"It's not your fault." Kurt folded his arms, trying not to show how offended he was. "Am I really that bad?" He laughed, quiet and bitter. "It's that awful for you to be in the same room as me?"

"No." His eyes blinked back open, rolling over to face him. "You always do that. You keep interrupting me when I have other things to say." There was a pause, as if he waited for Kurt to interfere once again. "I meant that you, of all people, are being kind enough to even let me in your house. After what I did, I- I can't tell you how surprised I am."

Kurt leant over, grabbing the bourbon and taking a swig, the taste of liquor and _Blaine_ on his lips- and it really shouldn't have made him feel as giddy as it had. "I forgave you." He fibbed, silently hoping his guilt didn't show as he drank. "Why wouldn't I help you out?"

"But I see how you've looked at me in class." He frowned, dragging his eyes away from Kurt. "You're still holding a grudge. And, by the way, you're still horrible at lying. So, y'know, don't even try. I still know you, I'm _not_ stupid."

Kurt sighed, taking another gulp as he waited for his mind to let go. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He uttered, running his fingers along the bottom of the bottle.

"How much do you hate me?" Blaine wondered, proceeding to sit upright once more. "Really- just tell me."

Another beat.

"I don't know." Kurt mumbled, looking defeated. "You're- you don't get it. You don't understand how it feels to be let down by someone you trusted. And, you knew it would've hurt. I mean, if the look you gave me wasn't enough, you had to make it worse, didn't you? You just _had_ to go into the locker room and-"

"Stop!" Blaine shouted, bringing his knees to his chest. "I'm not proud of what I did. I know I made a mistake and I'm sorry. Things were happening and I didn't know what I was doing anymore. And I never meant to hurt you like that, please..."

"I don't want your apologies." Kurt glared, hands clenching into fists. "I was upset about my mom, and you knew. That's the worst part. You knew I was upset. So, I don't know what happened, or whatever I did, but I know I didn't deserve it."

Blaine stiffened, looking away from the other. "I wasn't thinking, Kurt-"

"Right, you _weren't._" Kurt interrupted, the suppressed anger washing over him, after too long. "So, you know what? You're right. I hate you, Blaine. There, I said it-"

He hadn't registered how Blaine had shuffled forward, but soon enough, the press of lips was against his. Kurt's eyes went wide, but he felt his mouth fall open, almost mirroring Blaine's actions.

Blaine took it as an invitation, sliding his tongue through. Kurt whimpered, somehow managing to climb atop of Blaine, pushing him against the mattress. He braced his arms around Blaine's head, feeling fingers slip through the belt loops of his trousers.

It wasn't romantic- not one bit. It was heated, angry, the complete opposite of how it was supposed to be. Or, not- neither of them were sure of what they exactly wanted. But something _was _happening, quite clearly.

"Say it again." Blaine whined against his lips, as Kurt ground down on him. "Tell- _oh_, tell me you hate me."

Kurt groaned, teeth clacking against Blaine's as his hands travelled low, reaching the other's ass. He splayed his hands over the clothed skin, gripping only just to hear Blaine's whimpers. "I can't stand you." He growled, arching as Blaine bucked up, instinctively kneading his hands into his ass. Kurt bit against his lip, fingers digging into the fabric.

It wasn't until Kurt slid a knee between Blaine's thighs when he realised that he was hard, painfully so. The other moaned at the friction, draping his arms around Kurt's neck and pulling him closer. "You're rude, self-absorbed and you don't care." Kurt muttered, scraping his teeth on Blaine's earlobe, feeling the boy under him come undone. "I don't understand how I can stand to be in the same room as you."

Blaine hummed, panting and writhing as Kurt licked and pressed open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. They rocked against each other, losing a pattern as quickly as they'd find it, with uneven thrusts that clashed- but it was still just as heated and real. "_Fuck_- I, _ah_, you act like you're so innocent." Blaine gritted his teeth, reaching his hands down and working the zipper of Kurt's pants.

Kurt scoffed, reluctantly moving his hands to slide the trousers from his legs- leaning forward to return the favour, chests shifting against one another. "You're one to talk." He remarked, gasping as Blaine's pants were removed and brushed their hips together.

"At least I don't act like I've never made a mistake in my fucking life- _oh, Kurt_." He stuttered, hands sliding from Kurt's neck to his waist, gripping tight. Kurt ran his hands under Blaine's shirt, lifting his head to catch his breath, before letting his hands roam over the touch of bare skin.

Blaine leaned his head forward, watching the other get the message, lips crashing back together. Kurt's tongue dipped in, experimentally running it along the roof of Blaine's mouth.

He arches back once as Blaine hurriedly brings his legs around Kurt, grinding against him as their cocks rub against each other through their briefs. They don't even bother to keep quiet, cursing at one another.

"I hate- _oh, _I'm close." Kurt whined, glancing at the sweat the glinted from Blaine's forehead, back to Blaine's eyes- and, _shit_, he wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed it before. Pupils dilated, lustful darkness invading the usual swirl of hazel.

His lips chased Blaine's, teetering on the edge of his orgasm. Kurt whimpered, hands scurrying to Blaine's sides, still shoved under his shirt. He dug his nails in as Blaine thrusted against him, before crying out, throwing his head back as the full force of his orgasm washed over him.

He rode it out, before flopping against Blaine's chest, leaving him breathless. It wasn't until a few moments later that Kurt realises Blaine's stopped moving against him, looking just as exhausted.

He retracted his hands from Blaine's skin as if they'd been burned, rolling off him in an instant. "Oh god..." Kurt worried, standing from the bed and rushing over to his vanity. He grimaced at the reflection- taking in his flushed cheeks, right down to his neck. His eyes glanced back up, studying the mussed hair and pressed a finger to his swollen, bright red lips.

Kurt groaned, turning back round to watch Blaine, who'd somehow gotten ahold of the bourbon, gulping it down. He rushed over, eyeing the lost gaze that Blaine showed, taking the bottle. "You've had enough." Kurt muttered, feeling dizzy himself, as he shakily placed the bourbon on his vanity.

He made his way to the bed, eyes hesitantly raking over Blaine. His lashes rested against his skin, lips parted as he breathed out. His shirt rode up from moments before, revealing the trail of bare skin that would've been attractive if Kurt wasn't panicking.

He discarded his briefs, once he'd made sure Blaine was asleep, trading them for a new pair. Kurt took a deep breath, sliding his jacket off and carefully splaying it over Blaine's torso. The other stirred in his sleep, turning to the other side with a sigh.

Kurt snuck in beside Blaine, after watching him for what seemed like hours. The steady sound of breathing kept him calm, as his lids began to droop. He turned round, facing away from Blaine. Kurt curled in on himself, slowly drifting off into a quiet sleep

* * *

_"Dad, meet Kurt. Kurt, meet..." Blaine gestured over to his father, beaming at the two of them. Kurt gulped, reaching out a hand._

_"Great to finally meet you." The older man took it heartily, shaking it with a light grip. "We've heard so much about you, Kurt. Considering you're all Blaine over talks about. I swear, the boy won't shut up."_

_"You too, sir." Blaine's smile fell, looking over at Kurt, who seemed unfazed as he let his father's hand go. "My father would probably say the same thing." Kurt said, as Blaine took a step beside him._

_"Really?" Blaine asked, quirking another smile, watching Kurt with a fond expression. The other laughed, placing a hand on Blaine's bicep._

_"Of course. You're not the only one who's been blessed with a perfect friend, you know."_

_Blaine blinked, giving an indifferent shrug. Honestly, his heart was thrumming loudly in his chest, because the hand was _still_ lingering there and it felt like his skin was on fire. He cleared his throat, tearing his arm away as his father watched with amusement._

_"Blaine, you still there?" His father asked, stifling a laugh. Blaine looked at him with wide eyes, fearing he'd been caught. Whether it was the way he was glancing down to his bicep, where the skin tingled from the touch- or maybe he was just incredibly obvious._

_He chuckled, feigning a casual look. He turned to Kurt, who was watching Blaine and his father; almost like he was looking for the similarities. "You still wanted to watch _Pretty Woman?_" Blaine asked, to which Kurt furiously nodded._

_"Then, let's go."_

_Blaine wasn't sure how, or why, he'd leant over and grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him away towards the staircase. He noticed the surprise dancing in Kurt's eyes from the contact, and for a second, he had the urge to pull his hand away. But when Kurt's lips formed a grin, right at him, he knew he'd made the right decision._

_Blaine decided instantly that he needed to take more risks in life._


End file.

Glee, Angst, Romance