Thanks for taking time to read my story. I ship Blaine and Kurt hardcore, I think that they are simply adorable, so this is my little homage to them.
Please feel free to send me con-crit and review this! I want to hear what you think and if you want me to continue or not!
This is my first time publishing here so here goes …
Thanks so much guys! :3
Chapter One - Friends
The class was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Literally. All twenty-five boys in the class were intently copying down the overhead and beginning on the work left behind by their teacher. The substitute teacher was at the front of the class, ready to turn off the overhead projector once everyone was finished writing it down. She looked somewhat bored, her eyes glazed over as she stared straight ahead.
Kurt underlined the subtitle in red then switched pens and continued writing.
He snorted to himself how such a tranquil, peaceful scene would never transpire back at McKinley, especially with a substitute teacher in the class. He remembered the deafening noise level, the paper airplanes, the buttered floors with . . . almost a longing. He had felt his learning restricted in those circumstances and upset with his classmates, but, now, he almost preferred it to the crypt-like silence of the classroom. He felt intrusive even turning the page of his notebook.
But he loved the feeling of being challenged here. Maintaining a 4.0 GPA at McKinley had been incredibly easy; here, he really needed to stay on top of things. He was happy to find out, though, that he was still much more advanced in languages, both French, but especially Spanish. Apparently Mr. Shue knew what he had been doing in his Advanced Spanish class, after all. But he quickly fond that, while he had been extraordinary and excellent at McKinley, here . . . excellence seemed more the norm. He would have to work even harder to be in the top percentile.
As the class concluded, Kurt packed up his things and placed them in his backpack. He got out the school map so he could find his way to Warbler practice. He had only been at Dalton for a little over a week and he still found it somewhat confusing. He felt it was like Hogwarts; not only was it incredibly beautiful, but it also must have moving staircases because he swore that routes he had taken earlier were no longer there. It did not help that all hallways seemed to be identical, vases and paintings lining them all in equal lavishness.
He hated being tardy to the Warblers practice, he felt judged entering late. Ever since the committee had thwarted his ideas for Sectionals and his solo try-outs had gone awry, he felt shy among the boys, even though, for the most part, they were very friendly towards him. He felt that he had something to prove to them, redeem himself somehow.
However, Blaine would be at practice, and that was reason enough to go.
Blaine absently stared out the window. Wes and David were across from him, Wes prattling on about the date he had planned this upcoming weekend for him and his girlfriend. Blaine was only half listening, murmuring "uh-huh" and "oh yeah?" at interval, enough to appease his friend.
Truth was, he was waiting for Kurt to arrive. He had talked to him less this past week than he had when Kurt was further away from him, at McKinley. They had gotten in the habit of texting regularly while Kurt had been there, besides Blaine driving out to see him and help him with the Karofsky issue.
Their texts were pretty short. They had run pretty much the same way all week:
Hey, you! How was your day today? -B
Pretty good. It's kind of overwhelming and I have so much homework! - K
Who did you have today? - B
Kurt would then proceed to list his teachers and subjects. They would banter a bit back and forth until Kurt said he had to go and finish up his homework. Maintaining his GPA was very important to him, though it did not seem to Blaine that there was any home pressure for high marks.
Beside Monday, Kurt's first day when he had shown him around, Blaine had only seen and spoken to him briefly. They had been too busy practicing for Sectionals during the Warblers to even chitchat there. True, he had gotten Kurt a solo audition and he had been blown away, but the committee had felt that Kurt seemed to grand. Blaine had roared internally at the indignation of that statement, but outwardly just smiled and accepted their decision. Dalton, while accepting everyone for who they were, was all about working as one seamless unit.
The committee's decision seemed to have worked out, as they had tied for first with McKinley at the Sectionals competition the night before. Blaine had not met any of Kurt's friends, but he saw Kurt over with them, congratulating them, and he looked so . . . happy. He had yet to see that expression of sheer glee while he was inside the walls of Dalton.
One of the double wooden doors opened and inside stepped a boy with skin pale like alabaster, big, innocent and honest blue eyes, and brown hair coiffed in a vintage style. The navy blue blazer, trimmed in red, fitted him to perfection and his tie was tied in a Prince Albert knot, as opposed to the usual four-in-hand style that most of the boys opted for.
Of course, Blaine smiled, Kurt had to find a way to be unique.
Kurt smiled tentatively in his direction as his eyes quickly took in the room, seeing if there was someplace for him to sit. Blaine was on the sofa; he had sat there purposefully and placed his bag on the empty spot beside him. Lifting his bag, he motioned Kurt over. A relieved expression flooded Kurt's features and he joined Blaine on the couch.
"Hey," Kurt smiled, "Are the Warblers reveling in their victory from last night?"
"I think mostly everyone is happy with the opportunity to move on to Regionals. We didn't make it this far last year. But, more importantly, how are you?" Blaine inquired, looking at Kurt seriously.
Kurt felt the air knocked out of him from the intensity of the other boy's green eyes. They were so genuine that he was unsure how to respond. He did not want to burden Blaine with any feelings of inadequacy that he had, Blaine who had been much nicer, offered much more support, and had been so much more helpful than he had ever needed to be. He had gone above and beyond for him from his first text of 'Courage' to his visit to Karofsky at McKinley, to all the support he had offered him here at Dalton. If Kurt had believed in God, he would have equated Blaine with his own guardian angel.
Blaine watched the emotions trickle across Kurt's face. He did not know if everyone could read him so easily, but he found that all of Kurt's thoughts and feeling found a way of reflecting in his features, even if he tried to mask them. Now he saw Kurt wrestling with telling him the truth or sugar-coating it, probably thinking that is what he would want to hear.
Kurt opted to give an answer that told the truth but also masked how aloof he felt in Dalton. "Everyone has been really nice to me! My teachers all seem very bright, but also like they expect a lot from their students, which is a change from most of the teachers at McKinley," he answered.
Blaine raised one of his thick, arched eyebrows slightly, as if to say, "Yes? What else?" Kurt chose to ignore this facial gesture and instead, seeing the back of the newspaper beside Blaine, focused on that instead.
"Oh! Burlesque!" he pointed to the advertisement, "Cher is such a diva. Mercedes was supposed to see it with me but then my Dad got married and I had to transfer here . . ." he let his voice trail off as his mind wandered back to Karofsky, felt the other boy's lips roughly pressing on his. Unconsciously, his hand went up and his fingers gingerly felt his lips. "Anyways!" he chirped, snapping out of his reverie, "I never ended up seeing it."
"I heard it's good," Blaine said lightly, not sure where he wanted to take the conversation. He wasn't sure that Kurt regarded his as more than a friend and mentor and he had been so . . . reclusive this week that he was more and more certain that this was all Kurt saw him as.
Seeing his two other committee members enter the room, Wes got up and joined them at the rectangular table at the front of the room. He banged the gavel, officially opening the Warbler practice.
So different from New Directions, mused Kurt before turning his attention to what was being discussed.
Kurt sat on his bed in his room, doing his homework. His dorm room was a far cry from his shared basement bedroom at his father's home. He wished that he could commute, but, unfortunately, the almost two hour drive between Lima and Westerville was not doable. He missed his room, he missed Finn, and, mostly, he missed his Father. He called them daily, but it was not the same thing. He missed being there, being able to hug his father and laugh at Finn playing Black Hawk. To hear Finn boisterously talking in the background, Carol laughing . . . it was almost as if the lack of his presence did not matter.
He had brought a lot of his stuff from home to his room at Dalton. Movies, DVDs, his laptop, the throw for his bed, photos, and, of course, his winter wardrobe. Not that he had much of a chance to wear it. By the end of the school day, he found he was too tired and busy to give much though to which Marc Jacobs sweater he should don or what bow-tie he was wearing.
Sitting on his bed, Kurt quickly typed away. He was working on his Spanish assignment, with Celine Dion blaring on his iTunes. The bed on the other half of the room was unoccupied; he had been lucky enough to get a room all to himself. Now, though, that empty bed was just a hallow reminder that he was alone.
Hearing a knock, he turned down his music and looked up. His door was slightly ajar and a dark head of curly hair was peeking in. It took him a second to realize it was Blaine; his hair was washed and unstyled, his curls left loose, and he was wearing a dark blue hoodie.
Kurt realized that this was the first time he had seen Blaine out of uniform. Having the sharp blazer striped off of him made Blaine seem somewhat more . . . human. Less perfect and dvine.
"Hey," he smiled at the older boy, "Please, come in! What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"
Blaine walked in and started looking around. He had only been in Kurt's room the day he had moved in and nothing was set up. He put his hands in his dark denim jeans as he strolled around the room.
"I live across the hall and two doors down, hardly out of you 'neighbourhood'," chuckled Blaine, "I came to see how you were doing; I figured this would get me more feedback than a text message." Even though his mouth was in a lopsided smile, it did not reach his eyes.
Kurt felt a pang of guilt. Was he being a burden to Blaine? He had been so supportive of him and now he seemed to think that Kurt needed more support than he was being given. He had tried so hard to be strong and make it through the sea of Dalton on his own, stay afloat and keep swimming through it.
"I'm doing great! Just working on a Spanish assignment now and then I will have to get started on my math and then try to read the first three scenes of Act I in Hamlet. I have to fit a facial somewhere in there too . . ." Kurt spoke quickly and trailed off.
Blaine looked at Kurt and laughed. He put down the picture he was holding - it was of Kurt with Finn and their parents at their parents' wedding - and walked over to Kurt's bed, sitting down beside him. He put his hand gently on Kurt's knee, which was drawn up to support his laptop. Kurt's heart almost leapt out of his chest; he felt electricity surging through his body from where Blaine's hand nonchalantly lay.
"Kurt . . ." Blaine said slowly, "You are an incredibly strong person, a thing you don't realize about yourself. You know you can talk to me, right? I know how overwhelming it can all be at first. No one knows better, trust me. I know you are confused and lost and overwhelmed and thinking that coming here was probably the worst decision you ever made. But give it time . . . you'll see that Wes and David are great guys, as are most of the Warblers and you'll fit in in no time. They'll see what I see and how could they not like you?"
Blaine's words, his warm attitude towards him, coupled with the fact that he had not been able to reach anyone at the Hummel-Hudson household and Mercedes had not texted him back yet, proved too much for Kurt. He meant to jut out his chin and say a manly "thanks." Instead, he provided Blaine with a watery smile as tears spilled from his eyes.
"It's just so not how I expected it," he said, crying, "Where are the Disney creatures and school-wide musical numbers in the hallways?"
Blaine's heart hurt for Kurt. Throwing reason to the wind, he followed his instinct and embraced Kurt in a giant bear hug. Kurt went rigid at first, then, inhaling Blaine's intoxicating fragrance and feeling him so near and so warm, his walls came crashing down. He let the sobs that had been pent in out and hugged Blaine back.
When Kurt had calmed down, he wiped his cheeks and refused to make eye contact with Blaine, embarrassed by his display.
"Wow," he breathed, "I cannot believe I did that. I am so sorry. I am going to go and die now. Please bury me in my Versace."
"Kurt," Blaine said seriously, "You don't ever need to feel embarrassed in front of me. Ever. And you can come talk to me whenever you have a problem, no matter how small. Don't bottle it up! Promise me."
"Okay, I promise. Thank you so much for everything, Blaine."
"Of course, what are friends for?"
Friends, thought Kurt, What else?