Valentine's Day (I suppose it's technically an AU, because it has nothing to do with the promised Valentine's Day episode) fic!


There needs to be a therapy/recovery group for those Klaine fans who have read the vore fic. I won't tell you the title or what it's about, because if you haven't read it I don't want you to have to. It's disturbing. I seriously could not stop thinking about it and it creeped me out so bad. SO THIS WAS MY THERAPY. I WROTE THIS.

(Also, I have a lot of time since I've finished writing 'So I Went and Let You Blow My Mind', which is a tragedy in itself. Life is so boring without a healthy dose of Klaine)

Ryan Murphy had better not f**k up Klaine. I can see this potentially being the best couple in Glee.

Some characters belong to me. Some belong to Glee.

(and some belong to infraredphaeton)

"Valentine's Day is such a stupid holiday," Kurt said moodily, stabbing his fruit salad with a fork.

David was staring at him, with a look on his face that was a cross between amused, frightened, and bewildered.

Wes slid his plate onto the table, and sat down next to David. He nodded his head at Kurt. "What's his problem?"

"Today's Valentine's Day," David explained. "Which reminds me." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box of candy hearts. "Happy Valentine's Day." He handed it to Wes.

At this, Kurt threw his hands in the air. "Wes gets more action than I do at an all-boys school!"

"Whoaaaa-ohh… caught in a bad bromance…"

Kurt threw a piece of fruit at him, ruining his fake scowl by laughing.

"Food fight?" Blaine asked from behind David, arching one of his endearingly triangular eyebrows as he pulled out the seat beside Kurt, setting his plate down. Kurt tried to ignore the jittery butterfly feeling that flooded his stomach when Blaine's arm brushed his.

"Of course not," said Kurt, promptly, "that would be against Dalton Academy rules. I was merely attempting to break apart Wes and David's public display of affection in their supposedly platonic relationship."

Blaine sighed. "You'll get used to them."

Wes and David hooked their pinkies together and grinned conspiratorially at each other.

"You said that two months ago," Kurt pointed out.

"And it was true two months ago, too. You will get used to them. It just might take you a year and a half."

"That's how long it took Blaine," Wes said, grinning. "I think it was David's octopus-like affection that confused him."

"I latch onto people easily," David confided. "But no, I'm pretty sure it was your weird gavel-fetish, Wes. Or your obsession with Red Vines. Blaine still doesn't understand how you can like those."

"They're disgusting," Blaine agreed.

"It's all three," Kurt decided, "because I can't understand either. I also can't understand that you two are supposedly just friends."

Wes and David blinked at him.

"What, you've never seen a friendship like this?" David asked, slowly.

"Between girls, sure. Me and Mercedes are kind of like that too. But that's different. The only guy relationships in our group are a little... dysfunctional. Both of my stepbrother's girlfriends cheated on him with his best friend. None of the other guys in our group are best friends like you two. I mean, we're family (an extremely homo-wary family, but a family nonetheless), we watch out for each other, but we're not best friends.

"No bromances?" Wes asked, in a horrified whisper.

Kurt shook his head, bemused.

David clutched his face in dismay. "What a world we have saved you from!"

Blaine cleared his throat.

Everyone looked at him.

He flashed a charming smile at Kurt. "Consider this your introduction to Bromances. As this is an all-boys school, every year the Warblers have a Valentine's Day party to secure our 'manly' statuses." He rolled his eyes. "We mainly watch movies with lots of explosions, eat pizza, play video games, and talk about girls. And pointedly avoid any conversations about romance or Valentine's Day."

"Oh, god," Kurt muttered.

Blaine leaned a little closer, grinning. "Harry, Ben, Jim, and I always have our own little conversation going about guys. You're welcome to join."

Kurt laughed. "Don't some of you have girlfriends?" he asked, looking mainly at David and Wes. "Aren't they a little... miffed at being stood up for your friends?"

"We took 'em out this weekend," Wes said, waving his hands around wildly, as he was prone to do. "It's a school night, so most Warblers refuse to leave the school." He scowled for a minute. "So we have a manly party. No girls allowed."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Because I'm the most manly guy you know."

"Dude, you're still a guy," said David. "You've got a weird obsession with fashion and a collection of Vogue bigger than Blaine's guitar pick collection, but you're manlier than any of the girls I've dated."

"Which is saying something," Wes jumped in, "cuz one of them was a Wrestler. Also, I don't feel an urge to grope you, which I think makes you pretty male in my eyes."

"Thank you?" Kurt said, uncertainly.

"No problem." Wes smiled at him, then began wolfing down his food at an absurdly fast (and rather grotesque) rate.

David, who had been eating at a more leisurely pace for a longer time than Wes, finished at the same time. He picked up his plate. "Who knows? Maybe you'll even get your own bromance. Or romance," he added, and Kurt could've sworn he shot a wink at Blaine. He caught Wes by the arm and dragged him away with him. Wes waved a forlorn goodbye with the piece of sausage he was still chewing on.

Kurt blinked, a little bewildered. "...Okay, what was that supposed to mean?"

"I have no idea," Blaine muttered, his neck and ears suspiciously pink.

Before Kurt could say anything else about Wes and David's odd behavior, Blaine changed the subject. "Anyway, you'd be happy to know that us four gay guys- and now you- always insist upon one romantic comedy. The other guys complain a little because not doing so means forfeiting their heterosexuality, but they do it only half-heartedly because they secretly enjoy it. I think we might be watching Valentine's Day this year."

Kurt smiled broadly. "I haven't seen that one! Mercedes and Tina and I were going to go, but we got busted for trying to sneak our own food into the theater."

Blaine laughed. "That's happened to us, too. I have no idea why Wes thought putting an entire pizza into a large handbag to sneak it in was inconspicuous."

"They don't think things through," Kurt said, fondly.

Blaine smiled. "They're growing on you, aren't they?"

"They are," Kurt admitted. "For a while, I was getting mixed signals from them- first they thought I was endearing, then they thought I was annoying, but-"

"But the council is always pompous and annoying the first few months of school," Blaine cut in. "They've loosened up. They even let us do a show tune last week."

"And that was a disaster," Kurt groaned, laughing. "I was wrong, I admit it. And here's solid proof that you guys all know better than I do what sort of music you should be doing. I should've realized you're not New Directions. I shouldn't have tried to turn you into New Directions."

"Kurt, it's fine," Blaine said, covering Kurt's hand with his. "We all get it, okay? You were not only brand new to the Warblers, but brand new to the school. And you weren't used to it. At your school, things were a lot different and we get that. Things just take getting used to and you've adjusted wonderfully." He punctuated his speech with one of those charming smiles that frequently stole Kurt's breath away.

He also didn't move his hand away from Kurt's.

"Why are you so perfect?" he muttered, but he didn't move his hand either.

A wide smile grew on Blaine's face, and he leaned forward a little. "Kurt-"

Was it Kurt's imagination, or did Blaine's hand tighten a little on his? Kurt's heart was beating so fast he was sure Blaine could see it through his blazer.

Somebody cleared his throat above them, and Blaine's hand flew off Kurt's.

"Hi," said Tom, looking between the two of them with his eyebrows raised. "Only wondering if Blaine might help me with my Spanish."

"Sure," said Blaine, smiling warmly (but not charmingly, Kurt's brain screamed). He stood up, and Kurt knew he couldn't possibly be imagining the regret in his voice when he said, "I'll see you later, Kurt."

He lifted his plate, and slipped a pancake onto Kurt's.

A heart-shaped pancake.

When Kurt looked up, blinking a little in surprise, Blaine and Tom were already gone.

When he lifted up the pancake, it split down the middle.

He really hoped that wasn't symbolic.


"What I don't understand, Pav," said Kurt, gluing another sequin to Pavarotti's perch, "is why he gave me the pancake."

Pavarotti twittered madly, and Kurt groaned. "And I'm having a conversation with a bird. Goddammit."

"First sign of insanity, you know," said a voice from the doorway. "Talking to yourself."

Kurt turned his head so fast he got a crick in his neck.

Blaine winced. "Sorry. I didn't intend to startle you. Well, I did. But no so that you'd hurt yourself." He took a step forward, eying the hand that Kurt was rubbing against his neck.

"Do you want me to do that?"

It felt like every muscle in Kurt's body had seized up. He stared at Blaine. His mouth was stuck, or maybe he'd just forgotten how to speak English. He couldn't say anything even if he knew what to say.

"My mom's a massage therapist," Blaine explained quickly. "I grew up sort of imitating what she did. I do Wes' shoulders a lot, he gets really uptight. And Tim's neck."

Kurt swallowed, hard. "Okay," he said, his throat dry.

Blaine gestured to his desk chair. "Go ahead and sit down."

Kurt sat, his heart pounding like crazy. He could actually hear it beating.

Blaine's hands landed on his neck, ice-cold, and he flinched.

"Sorry," Blaine whispered, and his breath tickled Kurt's ear, ruffling his hair and sending his nerves on edge. "They'll warm up in a second."

Kurt focused really hard on not hyperventilating.

And then he sort of forgot how nervous and panicky he was, because Blaine's hands were really amazing. The way he was moving his fingers across Kurt's neck, kneading out the tension...

"You're really tense, Kurt," Blaine murmured. "Have you been feeling stressed?"

"A little," Kurt admitted.

"Anything I can help with?" Blaine asked, and Kurt smiled a little wryly. How fitting. Of course Blaine would offer to help, because that's the kind of guy he was.

Maybe if Blaine weren't the cause of all the stress, it would be different.

"No, but thank you for offering."

"Your shoulders are really tense, too," Blaine noted, his fingers digging into a knot. Kurt whined a little in the back of his throat. "And your back probably is too. You must be in pain all the time, Kurt, why didn't you say anything?"

"I've always been wound tight," Kurt said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't really notice anymore."

"I bet you have trouble sleeping, though," Blaine said sympathetically.

"A little."

"Do you want a real massage?"

Kurt craned his neck to look up at Blaine. "What do you mean?"

"It'll help a lot of your tension. I'm just asking because I don't want you to be uncomfortable- I don't know if- well, you'll have to take off your shirt."

"That's fine," Kurt said, as nonchalantly as he could. "I don't mind."

Blaine was tactful enough to make the situation a little less awkward by turning around as Kurt removed his shirt.

"Lie down," Blaine said quietly, in a tone of voice Kurt couldn't quite identify.

There was way too much tension in the air, and Blaine's voice was just too sexy and smooth and Kurt didn't think he could handle this.

He lay on his stomach, wrapping his arms around the pillow, burying his face in it.

And oh god, there were Blaine's hands, on his shoulder blades, and they were rubbing and kneading and dancing and Kurt shouldn't have been thinking erotic thoughts, but he so was.

Blaine's hands were drifting lower and lower on his back, and Kurt couldn't breathe.

The door banged open, and both of them jumped.

"My eyes!" Wes howled.

"Don't you two ever knock?" Blaine demanded, and Kurt could see as he turned that red was flooding Blaine's neck.

"What are you doing?" David asked, raising his eyebrows, but considerably calmer than Wes, who was still flailing his arms with an empty look on his face.

"Kurt's stressed out. I'm giving him a massage," Blaine said, shortly. "I give you guys massages."

"Not when we're half-dressed," David pointed out.

"Could you please just tell us why you're here?" Kurt interjected, propping himself up on his elbow.

"We were coming to tell you that the party has officially commenced, but it seems like you've got your own party going on up in here," Wes said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Kurt sat all the way up, having deemed himself calmed down enough to do so (really, the appearances of Wes and David had done the trick), and slipped his oxford back on over his shoulders, buttoning it up. He looped his Dalton tie around his neck. "Shove it up your ass, Wes," he said, in a very calm, polite voice, with a very calm, polite smile.

David, Wes, and Blaine's mouths all fell open.

Right. Dalton boys had never developed the ability to swear.

Kurt flashed a grin and an Artie-gang-symbol, and walked out of the room.

He'd almost been expecting a sort of British cocktail party, complete with teacups and monocles and polite, forced conversations. He'd been expecting a low murmur of conversation, everyone in their immaculate, dapper Dalton uniforms. Their noses would lift in the air when they realized Kurt had forgone the blazer this time.

What he hadn't, however, expected when he opened the door to the senior commons, was for a wall of noise to hit him so hard his ears rang.

There was a pile of discarded blazers and ties in the corner, that was the first thing Kurt noticed. Eric was perched on the back of the couch, arguing with Liam, who was attempting to wrestle a tub of cheetos from Jim. One of the ornate couches was tipped on its side, and Harry and Pratik were hiding behind it, shooting nerf darts across the room to hit random, unsuspecting Warblers. Lee, Ben, and Paul were bunched together in an armchair, all with Wii steering wheels in their hands, attempting to knock each other off the chair as they raced in Mariokart.

Kurt blinked.

It was like seeing Mike, Finn, Puck, Sam, and Artie, all in untucked, rumpled dress shirts and loose or discarded ties.

Dalton boys could be normal?

Just... teenage boys?

Jason skidded up to him, his tie wrapped like a ninja headband around his forehead. "Kurt!" he cheered. "Join us!"

"I really don't-" Kurt started to protest, but Jim and Alexander seemed to appear from nowhere and suddenly his tie was off and around his head and a nerf gun was being shoved into his arms.

Alexander pulled Kurt behind a bookcase. "Have you seen Blaine?" he whispered, looking around as if he might be hiding in one of the shelves.

"He's not here yet," Kurt whispered back, confused beyond belief.

Alexander's eyes widened. "Watch out!" he cried, but it was too late. A nerf pellet hit Kurt square in the back of the neck.

Kurt turned slowly to see Blaine standing there, looking absolutely pristine as usual (and the only boy in full uniform), but with a wicked grin on his face.

He clicked his gun again.

Kurt held his hands up by his face, letting the gun fall from his clutch to the floor.

Blaine's grin broadened. "Surrender?"

For some reason, the question paired with Blaine's wicked smile made a thrill run down Kurt's spine. "Yes," he laughed. "I surrender."

The smile on Blaine's face turned triumphant. Everyone else around them groaned.

"I don't understand," Kurt whispered to Alexander. "What does surrendering to him mean?"

"It means you're his slave for the rest of the night," Alexander said, then hastened to add, "not in that way!" at the look on Kurt's face.

"So he tells me to do something and I have to do it?" Kurt asked, his forehead wrinkling.

"Yes. Unless it's dangerous or is something that makes you really uncomfortable. Not that Blaine would do that."

Blaine snapped his fingers, grinning, and pointed at the floor beside him. "Come here!"

Kurt walked over, scowling. "Do I look like a dog to you?" he bitched.

Blaine bumped their shoulders together. "No complaining, slave. You surrendered to me."

"Fine." Kurt rolled his eyes. "What can I do for you, oh holy one?"

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Wes, who was banging his ever-present gavel on the bookcase (the closest wood thing he could find).

"It's time for a movie," Wes said officially, and was pelted with marshmallows.

"Stop being a douchebag," called a voice that sounded suspiciously like David.

Eventually, though, they somehow managed to set up a large screen and projector, and a hodge-podge of pillows, blankets, chairs, and couches. Eric opted for curling up inside an open vent halfway up the wall. Blaine stretched out on the full length of one of the couches and shot charming smiles at anyone who looked like they might make him move, causing them to wander away looking rather dazed and awestruck.

"Come cuddle with me," Blaine commanded Kurt.

Uncertainly, Kurt stepped over until he was beside the couch, then hovered there. "Is that an order?"

Blaine rolled his eyes a little, grinning, and yanked him down beside him. "Yes."

"That's not fair, you usually cuddle with me," David complained. "Kurt, you're stealing my cuddle partner."

"Go cuddle with Wes," Blaine told him, shifting so that Kurt was the bigger spoon (he was taller, after all). Kurt, who somehow found himself with his arm around Blaine's waist, was trying very hard not to blush.

Apparently affection was normal here. Between two boys. And nobody flinched away as any of the other three gay guys in the room wrapped an arm around them, as if they might "catch the gay". Nobody made faces about Kurt and Blaine being cuddled together on the couch- in fact, Wes told them to "stop being so damn adorable and trying to turn them all gay".

They started with the Dark Knight, which Kurt had actually somewhat enjoyed when he'd seen it because although the color of the Joker's suit was somewhat ridiculous, the cut and style suited him immensely, and the make was obviously expensive.

Sometime during the movie, Blaine snuggled back into Kurt so they were pressed together so tightly a sheet of paper wouldn't have fit between them, and he stopped concentrating on the movie and instead concentrated on breathing, which he was normally good at but somehow he seemed to have forgotten how to do it.

"You're a lot less tense," Blaine whispered, in a way that definitely shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

It startled him, the casual way that David looked over at him and Blaine with a grin on his face and informed him that they were making him sick.

It also surprised him when Blaine casually made a rude hand gesture towards him, because Blaine was a gentleman.

Blaine caught Kurt's shocked expression as he tipped his head back and laughed. "They bring out the immaturity in me."

"I've never done anything like this," Kurt confided in a whisper.

Blaine sat up, staring at Kurt as if he'd seen a ghost. "What?"

"I mean, just guy time. All my closest friends are girls. We go shopping and have sleepovers and Sound of Music sing-alongs, but-" Kurt sat up, too, confused.

"And the guys in your group don't have guy time?"

"They do, but they don't invite me." Kurt could see Blaine getting angry, and Kurt felt bad because he hadn't meant to make himself sound so pathetic. He enjoyed his girl time, and if sometimes he wished he could have guy friends to talk to... well, that was his own problem, not Blaine's.

"Why not?" Blaine demanded, through gritted teeth. Someone behind them hissed at them to "take their lover's quarrel elsewhere".

"I've never really been close with any of the guys," Kurt whispered. "I mean, Finn and I are friends now. But we weren't before, and I've always been a sort of honorary girl. I always get invited to girl's nights."

"What, just because you're gay?" Blaine was really angry now, because he'd spent most of high school in a testosterone pit, and he was used to slaps on the back and watching football games and generally being a guy, and so of course he thought this whole thing was unfair, because he hadn't been a public school kid in a really long time, and also he had no idea what it was like to have girl friends.

Wes flicked the lights on and paused the movie. "Blaine, is there a problem?"

"Yes!" Blaine cried, more out of control than Kurt had ever seen him. "Kurt, you've missed out on all these experiences guys should have, regardless of their sexuality! Like video games and testosterone-fueled football parties and pulling all-nighters with pie and red bull!"

"And bromances," David added.

"And bromances!" Blaine cried, trying to point to Kurt and nearly jabbing himself in the eye in the process, they were so close. "I just don't understand why you think that's okay."

Kurt could feel himself turning red under the weight of everyone's eyes on him. "I guess I never really thought about it," he said softly.

"Then we must show you," Blaine said solemnly. "What it is to be a guy amongst other guys."

A smile lit upon Wes' face, and then David's, and pretty soon every guy in the room was wearing the same slightly manic grin. It was a little eerie, actually.

"So what are we going to do?" he asked nervously.

"You ever seen those movies where the boarding school kids raid the kitchen late at night?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Like Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Well, now you're about to experience it for yourself."

They tried to make as little noise as they could, which proved nearly impossible for a large group of teenage boys. Jason walked into three different walls and Wes tripped over nothing at least once. The kitchens were completely empty and completely spotless when they got there, and the boys went to work taking out various pies and cakes from the most bizarre of hiding places. Clearly, they'd done this before.

"For once, Kurt, don't worry about your body and whether this pie will go straight to your hips- it won't, by the way, it's low-fat. Just think about being a boy, which I think you're kind of afraid to do."

"Is that an order?" Kurt whispered.

"Yes," Blaine tried to say sternly, but ruined it by smiling.

The pie was actually really wonderful, and sometime during his second piece Kurt learned he really could just be a boy- rude and crude and loud and obnoxious. He kind of loved it. And when most of the group broke out into a Mellencamp song (Ben singing lead and dancing on a table), he laughed before joining in.

He even punched Wes in the arm (pretty hard) when a joke was made about Kurt being "much less tense", punctuated by a pointed look at Blaine, who was mercifully laughing at Ben and not paying attention to them.

At some point they trudged back upstairs, each with a mug of coffee or hot chocolate in their hands, to watch some game or other that was on pretty late. A college basketball game.

"Now," Blaine said, pushing Kurt down on the couch and keeping his hands on Kurt's shoulders, "you are going to watch this and we will explain everything to you and you're actually going to try to enjoy it, disregarding the heinous uniforms as I have to do every time I watch a game on TV."

"Is that an order?"


And to his surprise, he actually did enjoy it. He found himself sucked into the testosterone-fueled yelling at the screen, and even joined in when several of them started chanting sounds (that weren't even words) for no particular reason.

Kurt was actually enjoying being a dude.

During the game, Blaine's hand had snuck over his and by the end, their fingers were laced together, tightly.

The other boys were tactful enough not to comment.

Most of the rest of the evening was spent in lewd jokes (most of which were supplied by Kurt- Blaine seemed appropriately shocked) and video games and not talking about Valentine's Day. Kurt felt as if he was being drowned in a fog of masculinity- for once, he was actually a part of "dude time", and he was actually enjoying it.

Maybe that was because he knew even if he'd been invited to "dude time" with Artie and Puck and Finn and Sam and Mike, it would have been awkward and weird and he'd have been stuck doing "girl stuff", like making them cookies or something. They might care about him, but being gay in their eyes seemed to also equate to being a girl. Except maybe in Sam's eyes, but then again, he'd once been a Dalton boy.

To Dalton boys, he was gay but he was still a guy (because being gay meant liking guys and being a guy... not liking guys and being a girl. Because that would make him straight. And oh lord what was he even thinking?).

Kurt looked at the clock and realized with a jolt that it was Midnight. Curfew had been two hours ago. Liam seemed to notice, too, as he cleared his throat. "Guys! We need to sneak back to our dorms before we all have detention."

Grumbling and yawning, each guy packed himself up and headed down the hall in a long, scraggly line, leaving the couch overturned and various snacks strewn all over the floor. They'd probably get Hell from the administration for it, Kurt thought, but that was part of being a boy. Action now, consequences later. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Blaine twitching a little over the mess as well.

"Walk me to my room," Blaine said, and his thumb brushed over Kurt's knuckles, where their fingers were still laced together.

"Is that an order?" Kurt teased.

"Sure is."

They walked in silence for several flights of stairs and hallways before Blaine said anything.

"So, did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did," Kurt said, softly. "Thank you."

"I love talking about Vogue and musicals and gay rights for hours with you," Blaine said, "because you're right, other guys aren't really interested in that kind of stuff. But sometimes it's nice to be a guy, you know? No stereotypes. No judgments. Just guy time."

"It is nice," Kurt agreed, as they reached Blaine's door, and Blaine turned around.

He was much much closer than expected, and the shift in the mood was instantaneous. Part of Kurt wanted to take a step backwards because he was so freaking nervous. Part of him wanted to know where this would lead.

"You seem much less tense."

"I think your massage worked."

Blaine was very close. Kurt could feel his warm breath on his face.

"Kurt," Blaine said, his voice a little husky, and there was the face Kurt had never quite been able to read. His voice dropped a little. "Kiss me."

"Is that an order?" Kurt breathed, his mouth only heartbeats from Blaine.

"No." Blaine's reply was barely audible, but as soon as Kurt heard it, he took the last step, tilted his head down, and closed the gap between their lips.

And as one of Blaine's hands fisted in his shirt and the other cupped his face, Kurt found himself thinking, maybe Valentine's Day isn't such a stupid holiday.


Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this cheesy bit of fluff. I had fun writing it.