A/N: I don't write angst. At all. Ever. So I'm a little weirded out by how angsty (at least for me) the beginning of this came out.
Tumblr kind of made me write this. A lot of the people there don't trust Blaine- they feel as if there's something off about him. This is what I truly believe is off.
FINALLY another chapter story comes to my mind. I love Klaine and I'm freaking out a little over some spoilers out there that it isn't going to happen O_O. Ryan Murphy, PLEASE. let it happen :(
Disclaimer: No ownage of Glee or Klaine.
Kurt knew Blaine didn't think he noticed, but he did.
He'd noticed from the very beginning. How could he not? He'd been ecstatic on their not-a-date at Breadstix to discover that they liked all the same things. Blaine had been so outgoing, so full of life and laughter. Kurt had thought to himself that maybe he'd finally found someone. Because Blaine may not have been perfect (he was an inch shorter than Kurt, for starters), but he was perfect for Kurt, because he was just enough like Kurt and just enough unlike Kurt to work.
At least, that's what he'd thought before Dalton.
He was uncomfortable there. At least, he was uncomfortable with Blaine there. For some reason, every time he talked to Blaine, he felt that sort of second-hand embarrassment he always felt every time Mercedes wore her technicolor-zebra sweatshirt.
This Blaine was formal, uncomfortably so. He was impersonal, polite. He stood at a safe distance from Kurt- from everybody- and talked to him with his hands in his pockets. His eyes were careful.
At first, Kurt sort of thought he'd imagined it. Maybe he'd dreamed up the Blaine who he'd high-fived over breaking stereotypes in Breadstix. Maybe this was the real Blaine.
And then 'Baby, it's Cold Outside' happened, and there was the Blaine Kurt knew from Breadstix. There was the Blaine who drove two hours from Dalton to Lima to help and comfort a boy he'd met two days ago. That Blaine visited Kurt in his dorm room nearly every night and talked to him until he was in serious danger of missing curfew.
The Blaine he saw during the day was a silent, distant shell of the Blaine he got to know when the two were alone.
The most disturbing thing was, Kurt couldn't really tell which one was the real Blaine.
The strange thing was, Wes and David were less formal with him in public than Blaine was. He'd thought at first that, oh my god, Wes and David were going to hate him forever, but they'd warmed up to him after a few meets. After realizing that Kurt wasn't pulling a Vocal Adrenaline and going all Jesse St. James on them.
And they were great guys, once Kurt got to know them. Yes, maybe Wes had a strange dependency on his gavel and yes, maybe David's enthusiastic displays of affection for Wes left Kurt questioning the heteronormativity of their relationship, but they were really good and fairly hilarious guys, once Kurt got to know them.
At least, neither of them seemed to have a multiple personality disorder.
Blaine constantly baffled him. How could the Blaine who nodded politely to him as he passed him in the hallway be the same Blaine as the one who paced around Kurt's room, ranting for hours about the Westboro Baptist Church, or the same Blaine as the one who made Kurt laugh so hard over his Kermit the Frog impressions that he was crying?
"You're quiet," Blaine observed, from his position on the floor.
Yet another odd quirk of Blaine's that only ever seemed to come out when they were alone. Blaine always sat on the floor. He refused desks and beds. In fact, he was semi-partial to sitting underneath the desks and beds, which he would definitely be doing right now, if Kurt's bed wasn't too low and if Kurt wasn't using his desk.
"I'm just thinking," Kurt said, quietly, pausing the Sound of Music soundtrack and swiveling to look at Blaine.
Blaine placed a careful bookmark into his book (he had such a bizarre respect for books- he was the only person Kurt knew who absolutely refused to dog-ear pages), and set his eyes on Kurt, giving him his undivided attention.
Kurt loved that. It was the only thing that stayed constant about Blaine. Even when they were out in public, in front of the other Warblers, when Kurt spoke, Blaine would be paying attention to nothing else. Kurt really wasn't used to that, after having been in New Directions for so long. He was used to Rachel not listening to a word he said (that is, if he could get in a word edgewise), Brittany spacing when he talked, the guys ignoring him because, as Artie told him once, his girlish voice set up an automatic defense mechanism in guys that meant they tuned him out.
He liked to pretend that Artie hadn't meant that as offensively as it came out.
Blaine listened. He really listened, and Kurt wasn't used to that.
"Kurt?" Blaine prompted gently, when Kurt didn't say anything.
"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?"
Why couldn't Kurt hold in his own thoughts? What was wrong with him? Blaine was so definitely going to take it the wrong way, and it was going to be like the time he asked Rachel if there was anything in her closet besides American Girl Doll skirts and sweaters with animals on them.
Blaine wasn't freaking, though. He sort of rolled his body from its laying-down position until he was sitting, cross-legged, and staring at Kurt. "I'm sorry, what?"
So polite. All the time.
"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" Kurt asked again, a little more confidently, a little more fiercely.
"I don't know what you-"
"Because I have no idea what to think about you!" Kurt said, waving his arms in a way that sort of reminded him of Rachel when she got crazy. "You are so robotic and polite, and... and... dapper! And then I get you alone and you're a geek who'd rather sit on the floor and swears that Sweeney Todd is the best musical ever- which is really creepy, but at least you seem like an actual person!"
He wasn't even sure if what he was saying was making any sense.
Blaine seemed to be pondering his words, though, from the way that his head was tipped to the side. "So, what you're saying is- I have a different personality with you than with the rest of the school?"
"Yes!" Kurt cried. "And it's really freaking confusing, because you're so awesome when we're hanging out, but then I pass you in the hall and I start to say hi and you cut me off with a polite smile and a nod."
He saw Blaine's adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
"Is it- I don't know, are you ashamed of being friends with me? Am I your secret friend, or something?"
He was getting worked up, and he knew it, because he could feel the blush making its way up the back of his neck and across his ears and cheekbones.
"Kurt, no," said Blaine, earnestly, rising up on his knees and coming forward to clutch at his hands. "Just hear me out, okay? Just listen to me."
Kurt nodded slightly.
"I'm-" Blaine didn't seem to know where to start. He laughed a little awkwardly to himself, then attempted to start again. "I'm a little repressed, in case you didn't notice, Kurt." His head rose a little, his eyes meeting Kurt's, and he offered up a slight smile. "I've gone to Dalton for a few years, now, and I'm used to being surrounded by guys all the time. Granted, some of them are gay, but most of them are straight. And most of them are not interested in listening to me complain about the unfairness of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell', or Ohio's stance on Gay Marriage, simply because it doesn't apply to them. Nor do they wish to hear me gush about Patti LuPone or Barbara Streisand.
"I didn't even like football before I came to Dalton, did you know that? But everyone- nearly everyone- here are Buckeyes fans, and that was the easiest way to fit in. I learned all the rules and once I had them all figured out, I walked past a couch in the sophomore commons where two guys were seated and dropped a casual remark about the Buckeyes' season. And that's how Wes and David became my best friends.
"Then I met you, Kurt, and you are pretty much the opposite of every guy here, and I loved that. I really did. I love your sense of humor and your snarky one-liners and your fashion sense. I love that you're not afraid to be who you are, even when you were bullied beyond belief because of it. And I love that I can finally be that side of me that loves musicals and Vogue and weird Japanese anime- don't laugh- because you'll just accept me. Because you've never had to conform to fit a role, because your Glee Club, as dysfunctional as you say they are, they accept you. For exactly who you are."
His eyes refused to meet Kurt's anymore, and for a moment Kurt could only sit in shocked silence, thinking over Blaine's words.
"You don't think the Warblers will accept you for who you are?"
"They are comfortable with me because I fit in with them. I'm not flamboyant- even if I'd like to be- and I don't act gay. Or at least, what they'd consider gay."
Kurt laughed. "Blaine, I'm the gayest person you'll probably ever meet."
"Don't-" Blaine began to protest, but Kurt shushed him.
"Blaine, I have a collection of tiaras in my hope chest. I wear girl's pants. I get a manicure once a month, and I spend a good hour taking care of my skin each night. I would be a walking stereotype if I didn't also have the compulsive need to fix broken cars, and if I didn't take Taekwondo."
Blaine lifted his head. "You take Taekwondo?"
"It's a secret. It's also not the point of what I'm trying to tell you."
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"It's okay to be yourself, Blaine," Kurt said, softly. "Just because the other guys don't want to talk about some of the things you want to talk about doesn't mean you should become a totally different person. In fact, I think people will like you a lot better if you're yourself, and don't try to act like that doesn't matter because I know you have an obsession with people liking you."
Blaine looked like he didn't know what to say.
"Look, you don't have to babble on about Natalie Portman's cover dress from the latest issue of Vogue- which was fabulous, by the way- but you don't have to hide your stack of Vogue under your bed like it's porn. Nobody will care that you read it. Nobody cares that I do."
"It's just- I've been at an all-boys' school for so long, I don't remember how to-"
"Let your freak flag fly?" Kurt let out a chuckle. "You have to get girlfriends, Blaine. As nice as it is to have guys who accept you and aren't constantly afraid to even touch you because they might catch the gay or you might get the wrong idea, you really just need girlfriends."
Blaine raised his eyebrows.
"Tell me something," Kurt said, a little defensively. "With exactly how many people can you discuss Ralph Lauren's new collection, or which Disney Princess is your favorite, or how good-looking Jake Gyllenhaal is?"
"Um." pink was creeping up Blaine's cheeks. "One."
"Me." Kurt didn't say it as a question. "Do you know how many I have?"
"How many?" Blaine asked, looking like he didn't really want to hear the answer.
"Seven." Kurt said. "You. Quinn, Brittany, Santana, Tina, Rachel, Mercedes." He smiled a little. "As much as I love my Dalton friends, they'll never get me in the way that those girls do."
"I am so confused right now," Blaine said, burying his face in his hands and rocking back on his heels, away from Kurt.
"That's totally normal," Kurt said, soothingly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "I'm sure I'm not helping much. I've given you too much to think about. Do you need to be alone."
At this, Blaine looked up. "That is the last thing I need right now," he said, and Kurt was surprised at the fierceness in his voice.
An idea struck Kurt, and he stood up. "I'm going out in the hallway to make a call," he said, softly, touching the top of Blaine's head. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"
Blaine looked confused. "It's only four. You never call your dad this early."
"I need some advice," Kurt lied, before picking his phone up from beside his laptop and slipping into the hallway. He leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and trying to breathe.
Everything was coming out wrong. He had his thoughts all organized in his head- what he wanted to say, what he was trying to say- and yet, when he spoke out loud, everything withered and died and made absolutely no sense. He knew when he'd first arrived at Dalton that he'd have a difficult time being himself at an all-boys school- because, honestly, he really was the definition of 'let your freak flag fly'- but somehow, he'd still made some really good friends and he was even close with Wes and David.
He sighed, sliding his phone out of his pocket, and hit number three on speed-dial.
He slid back into his room about fifteen minutes later to find Blaine exactly where he'd left him, crouching on the floor and staring at Kurt's navy blue throw rug with an expression Kurt couldn't quite decipher. He was rocking back and forth on his heels and humming something to himself.
Kurt was really starting to believe in his previous bipolar statement, as Blaine suddenly turned his face up to him, a broad smile covering it. It would be more suspicious if the smile hadn't quite reached his eyes.
"You're right," Blaine said.
"I-excuse me?" said Kurt, completely taken aback.
"I've been a bit of a douchebag, haven't I?" he asked, running a hand through his perfectly gelled hair. With the combination of the sudden mood swing and the curse word, it was only understandable that Kurt was rendered incapable of speech.
"Actually, everyone at Dalton is sort of a douchebag," Blaine said, thoughtfully, rising to his feet to pace around the room. "God, is everyone here hiding under masks, or is it just me?"
"There is an awful lot of repression around here," Kurt murmured. "It's rather unnerving."
He spun quickly to face Kurt, nearly falling over in the process. Kurt raised an eyebrow. Blaine had never been the most graceful person- it was endearingly human.
"I sort of feel like singing. For- for no reason," Blaine said, a slight look of wonder in his eyes.
"Welcome to the world of human emotions, Blaine," Kurt said, a small smile quirking the corner of his mouth up. "You're in Glee Club. Of course you feel like singing."
"What is New Directions like?" Blaine asked, sitting on Kurt's bed and folding his legs underneath him.
Kurt, a little baffled both by the topic change and by Blaine actually sitting on something comfortable rather than the floor, merely blinked.
Blaine looked at him, patiently.
Kurt sighed, then went to sit on the bed beside him, keeping a safe distance between them. He honestly didn't think he could be too close to Blaine at the moment. There was too much confusion all gathered up in the last hour.
"New Directions," Kurt started, quietly, "is spontaneous. There is no organization and no counsel and no gavel. We burst into song when we feel like it, and we sing our feelings. Couples make up and break up more times than I can count. But it's wonderful. Loud." He chuckled. "When I told you I was used to having to shout to get myself noticed, I wasn't speaking metaphorically. Most of Glee practice is spent listening to Rachel."
"Tell me about her," Blaine said, leaning against a pillow but keeping his dark eyes fixed on Kurt. "Tell me about all of them. I want to know."
"Rachel Berry," Kurt started, with a wry smile, "is the biggest diva I've ever met. She's annoying and loud and has absolutely no filter and her wardrobe makes me want to claw my own eyes out on a regular basis. And I used to really hate her. But underneath that greedy, unfashionable shell, she's a nice person and she cares about the Glee club. She's also the best female singer I've ever met."
Kurt thought for a minute. "There's Sam, who's new, but he's I think the nicest guy in McKinley. Or at least, the least homophobic. He knew I was gay and that it could tarnish his reputation and he still wasn't afraid to sing a duet with me."
"That sounds like Sam," Blaine said, a fond smile stretched across his face.
What? "Wait, what?"
"Sam went to Dalton," Blaine said, arching an eyebrow. "He transferred last semester, the start of school. I didn't know him well, but he was always really easy going. And Wes was good friends with him."
"He's dating Quinn Fabray," Kurt continued, "She's had a tough time of it- she was president of the Celibacy Club and dating Finn last year when she got pregnant- with Puck's baby."
Blaine's eyebrows shot up.
"Her water broke at Regionals."
Blaine was pretty sure his eyebrows were at the top of his skull.
"Puck is the badass of the group, but I know he's a big softie on the inside. He was really upset when I transferred, and he used to be the main person to toss me into dumpsters."
"Toss you into-" Blaine appeared to be choking on the words.
Kurt waved a hand. "McKinley High tradition. It's not that bad, besides the smell. Anyway, Finn always let me take my more expensive pieces off beforehand."
"Finn did it too?" the look on Blaine's face was enraged. It was possibly the first time Kurt had ever seen him angry like that.
"Don't get angry," Kurt mumbled, looking away from Blaine. "You wouldn't understand."
Blaine clenched his jaw. "Fine."
"Well, there's Mercedes, you know her," Kurt continued, tipping his head back lazily to stare at the red velvet draperies strung across the ceiling.
"Mmm," Blaine hummed, to indicate that he was listening.
"She's my best friend in the whole world... she's like my Wes and David," he said, grinning slightly. "She's fierce and fabulous and beautiful. And always true to herself, which is what I love the most about her.
"Tina's the Asian one. She used to fake a stutter so people would leave her alone, but now she's much more outgoing. She has a very pretty singing voice and is a great dancer. She talks fashion with me. She's goth.
"And then there's Santana. She's a bitch, she really is, but she has her moments. She said she was going to 'cut a bitch' when she found out about Karofsky threatening to kill me. And she cares a lot about Brittany.
"Brittany- well. I can't describe her. She's a cheerleader, like Santana, and she changes sexual partners more quickly than Santana does, but- none of us really have any idea what's going on in Brittany's head."
Blaine cocked his head.
"She told me for Halloween, she was going as a Peanut Allergy," Kurt explained.
Kurt felt Blaine's hand sort of slip into his, and he didn't attempt to pull away. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but Blaine's hand was so warm and it felt so good, so different than holding hands with Mercedes and Quinn and Tina.
"And, uh, Finn. Well, you know about him. He's my stepbrother now. He's a lot better than he used to be. He was somewhat homophobic. He's so much better now- almost over-enthusiastic, like he's trying to make up for how he acted towards me before. He's so over-excited about having a brother." Kurt smiled fondly.
"Artie- the one in the wheelchair- I don't spend a lot of time with, but he's a really nice guy. And he's a great singer, too. Mike, he doesn't talk a lot- he's the other Asian- but he's a nice guy and an incredible dancer. Those two were the first ones to stand up for me against Karofsky in the locker room, which lead to them being beaten up."
Blaine's grip tightened around Kurt's.
"And that's all of them," Kurt concluded, casually wriggling his fingers out of Blaine's.
"They sound so different from the Warblers," Blaine mused, seeming to not notice Kurt's obvious discomfort with their closeness.
"They are," Kurt said, quietly, crossing the room to pull out his laptop. He gestured to it. "Do you mind? I need to finalize some research for my History report."
"You must have Dr. Halloway," Blaine said, knowingly. "By all means, go ahead."
The room was silent for nearly an hour aside from the humming of Kurt's laptop and the sounds of Blaine turning pages in his book.
Kurt's phone buzzed, and he slid a finger across the screen to unlock it and look at the text.
MERCEDES: Outside. Santana sped like hell to get us here on time. How we gonna do this?
KURT: 1 minute, stay where you are.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and looked at Blaine, whose eyes were closed, his face resting on the open book.
"Have you ever broken the rules before?"
Blaine's eyelids cracked. "Not major rules, no."
Kurt grinned at him. "There's a first time for everything."
A/N: CHRIS FUCKING COLFER WON THE GOLDEN GLOBE.
So this was going to be a oneshot. But there was way too much plot for a oneshot, strangely enough.
I have NO idea how many chapters this will be. I really don't.