Bonjour! I be Rin, your author for this little one-shot based off FOX's Glee series. I tried to write smut (And this did start off with that genre in mind) but I guess I'm too much of a wuss for characterization to do it. As such, it's slightly angsty and loaded with mushy mush. Hints at adult themes (As all my fics do, at the moment. When will I ever write something with actual sex in it?) and, as usual, leave me some concrit! :D

(I obviously do not own Glee, or I'd be the happiest person in the world.)


Slush: A Klaine Fanfic


"Hey, check it out! It's the gay kid and his new boyfriend!" a familiar voice shouted out, the hint of danger in it eminent even from across the sea of bodies in the hallway. "What're you doing back here, fag? Ain't they got enough happy hours at the gay school for you?"

Kurt froze midstride. His face paled as all the blood rushed out of it and started gushing inside his chest, making his heart beat at twice the normal pace. His cold, clammy fingers tightened their grip on the bag-strap over his shoulder. Beside him, Blaine stopped walking as well.

"Hey, ain't you gonna look at us when we're talking to you? Y'know, back here we consider that rude."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, not trusting himself to move an inch. He knew those taunting voices. Oh, he knew them well, all right. They'd been haunting him all his school life, ever since he came out all those years ago. And their head honcho was the reason Kurt had transferred to Dalton Academy in the first place – he'd threatened to kill Kurt.

"No? You ain't got the balls to turn around and look us in the eye, now?" a malicious chuckle followed this loud proclamation. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot – you girls don't have no balls, innit?"

Gasping, Kurt felt rather than saw Blaine whip around to face Karofsky and his gang of hooting jocks. A little too late, his hand tried to grip at Blaine's, but only closed in on thin air. Alarmed, the boy forced his eyes open and turned around to see the group of rowdy, ape-like bullies coming in to surround Blaine and himself in the middle of the corridor. Frantically, Kurt's eyes darted left and right, over the heads of the oncoming jocks; why, of all the times the academic staff could choose not to hang about in the school's hallways, did they choose this moment?

Kurt's eyes flitted back to glance at Blaine just as the other boy began to speak, trying to reason with Karofsky. His arms were half-raised in a sort of peace gesture.

"Look, we're not here to look for any trouble. Kurt just needs to see the Glee Club for—"

Blaine's little speech was cut short by a full cup of ice-cold Slushie, thrown straight into his face. It was all Kurt could do to lift his arms to his own face before he got a whole avalanche of Slushie hurled at him as well. Defenseless, the two of them stood side by side under the steady barrage of flavored ice and terrible, mocking laughter until the jocks ran out of Slushies. Once the bullies were satisfied, they shoved Kurt and Blaine into the lockers and disappeared down the hall, the sounds of their laughter still echoing back to the two boys standing breathless and soaking against the wall.

As Kurt tried to catch his breath, he mopped up the ice in his eyes. He bit hard on the inside of his cheek to keep the tears that threatened to break through at bay, not wanting Blaine to see him cry. The boy's day had already been horribly ruined, Kurt was sure of it. The worst thing was that he could've avoided this utter humiliation if he hadn't offered to come along with Kurt to McKinley. Unfortunately, he had. And Kurt, ever the one to jump at chances to spend time with Blaine, had foolishly agreed.

Look what his selfishness had brought them now? He'd led Blaine right into a Slushie assault; something no one should ever have the indignity of experiencing. Kurt himself was used to it – he'd been Slushied almost every day when he was still in McKinley, anyway – but it wasn't fair that he'd now dragged Blaine into this as well.

When the greater part of his face was clear of the stinging ice, Kurt heaved a deep breath and turned to face Blaine. He had to apologize, but then what? What could he possibly do to make up for this? To his surprise, Blaine hadn't even moved to clean off the Slushie on his face and hair. He was just leaning there against the lockers, his teeth gritting together and his entire body positively shaking with what appeared to be rage.

"Blaine?" Kurt mumbled softly. "I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have come here. I mean, you shouldn't have come here with me. I shouldn't have allowed you to tag along, I'm so sorry. Here, let me—" Kurt stopped his rambling when he saw Blaine's increasingly darkening expression. The other boy lifted his left hand up, palm out, as a request for Kurt to stop talking for a moment. He lifted his head and glared at the students walking down the corridor, right pass them.

"They don't even bother to stop and help, or even get a staff member to step in?" Blaine said in a low voice, his eyes still viciously sweeping up and down the hall.

"T-this isn't Dalton, Blaine. There, you have a zero tolerance for bullying rule, but it's… It's not the same for McKinley." Kurt replied hesitantly.

"They see a fellow student getting bullied right in front of their eyes and they don't try to lift a finger to prevent it?"

"Like I said, Blaine, we don't—"

"This isn't about school rules, Kurt! It's about caring for a schoolmate and stopping wrongdoings from going on! If nobody will stop those bullies, they will terrorize everyone." Blaine's voice grew steadily louder, drawing piercing stares from the other passing students. He then faced Kurt, gripping the boy's shoulder with an unfathomable expression on his face.

"This was what you went through?"

Kurt nodded wordlessly, to which Blaine responded with a deep frown, his eyebrows almost coming together on his wet, sticky forehead.

"Look, I'm sorry for bringing you into this, okay? This was a stupid idea, coming back here…" Kurt sighed, contemplating his next move. "I don't think it's that important to see them anymore, Blaine. Let's go. Get away from here."

Blaine didn't move, or show any sign that he'd even heard what Kurt was saying. He was stock still, with melting Slushie dripping down the lapels of his Dalton jacket and his face still plastered with that same odd expression. Kurt frowned for a moment, chewing down on this bottom lip, then reached for Blaine's hand. Holding it within his, Kurt tugged slightly.

"We'll go to my place, clean all this off. I think I have a couple of really nice shirts you could change into." Kurt grinned, his mind already digging through his extensive wardrobe for the perfect outfit to dress Blaine up in. "My place is nearer, anyway."

After a few more incessant tugs, Blaine finally gave in and followed along behind Kurt. They dripped sticky liquid all the way out the front door, drawing more than a few stares from the McKinley students as they hurried by.


"Here, see if this fi—" Kurt started to say, holding up a pair of maroon slacks which were slightly too big for himself. His sentence – right along with coherency and sensible train of thought – trailed off when he lifted his eyes and caught sight of Blaine standing in front of him in the middle of his room. Completely naked.

Or, he would've been completely naked, anyway, had he not been clutching a towel around his middle.

"I can't wear either of these, Kurt." Blaine said, passing a button-down shirt and a pair of sandblasted jeans back into Kurt's arms. "They're a really tight fit."

Desperately, Kurt averted his eyes from the fine male specimen in front of him, his gaze landing instead on the wet footprints Blaine had trailed out of the bathroom.

"Try these." he choked out. His throat was unnaturally dry and he seemed to have trouble forming complete words. He held out the pair of slacks in his hand and randomly grabbed a shirt from the pile on his bed, waving them in Blaine's general direction. He still didn't trust his eyes to be well behaved enough to look directly at the other boy.

Blaine hooked the clothes off Kurt's hands, his head cocked to one side wondering what had gotten into the boy. Raising his right eyebrow and shrugging at the same time, he turned around and left more dark footprints on the floor as he went back into the bathroom to put the garments on. The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, Kurt let out a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. He felt oddly disjointed from his physical body, as if he was floating around somewhere near the ceiling, looking down at the situation unfolding.

What was Blaine doing? Did he really think he could just waltz around naked – okay, almost naked, save that bothersome towel – and not expect Kurt to mind? He knew exactly how Kurt felt towards him, didn't he? So what the hell was he trying to do? Feeling hot and bothered now, Kurt mentally bombarded himself with personal insults in an attempt to get his heart to stop banging against his ribcage.

He obviously doesn't feel that way about you, idiot! The only people who don't mind being half naked in front of other people are those who maintain a sort of… Brotherly relationship with the other person. And does it really matter wha—Oh, sweet lord.

Blaine had come out of the bathroom again. And he was still shirtless. The maroon slacks fit him – very well, in fact; they were really quite flattering – but he was holding the shirt at arm's length towards Kurt, shaking his head. Tiny drops of water spattered against Kurt's warm face as he watched strands of Blaine's curls wildly tossing about. He'd never seen Blaine without his perfectly gelled hair before. Granted, he'd never seen Blaine shirtless or in a pair of maroon pants before either, but there was something about the untamed hair that made Kurt want to run his fingers through them.

His coherency flew out the windows again when Blaine plopped down beside him on the bed.

"Sorry, Kurt, but the shirt doesn't fit. It's too tight again." he said conversationally. "Oh, and I left the towel on the rack by the door back there, will that be okay? Kurt?" He waved his hand in front of Kurt's face. The boy appeared to be gazing transfixed at a point somewhere above Blaine's own eye level. Frowning, Blaine looked behind him to see if there was anything there. Unless Kurt had spotted something else interesting, the only feature Blaine could see that was directly behind him was the wall, painted in soft tones and very pleasant on the eyes.

"What—" he began to say, turning forwards to look at Kurt again but stopping himself abruptly when his eyes met Kurt's. Blaine blinked confusedly, unable to voice his question. There was a strange gleam in Kurt's eyes as they look straight into Blaine's own, almost like a strong beam of light shining into his soul. A silly notion, but it was how Blaine felt at that moment – like Kurt was urgently trying to convey an important message through his eyes, directly to Blaine's heart.

Unfortunately, Blaine was struggling to catch Kurt's meaning.

Fortunately, Kurt saved him the effort by abruptly leaning in to kiss Blaine full on the lips, his hand jumping up to tangle in Blaine's hair on its own volition. The moment he did it, though, Kurt knew he'd overstepped it. As suddenly as he'd swooped in on Blaine, he jumped off the bed and hurled himself to the furthest corner of the room, far away from the boy who remained sitting stonily by the pile of clothes on the comforter. Blaine's eyes were wide open, his mind in shock and his body numb in light of what had just taken place.

Kurt watched silently from his spot in the corner, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. Blaine didn't move for a full minute, his entire frame tensed in the same position he'd been sitting facing Kurt earlier. Then – and it was like watching a slow-motion horror movie unfolding – the boy deliberately clutched at the bed and turned around to stare wonderingly at Kurt. He stood up, legs surprisingly steady, and walked to where Kurt was pressing against the wall.

With every step he took, Kurt shrank another inch backwards. Eyebrows furrowed, Blaine stopped when he was about five feet away from the taller boy. Kurt lowered his head into his palms, uncontrollably sobbing now. He felt like such a wretched bastard for doing such a thing to Blaine. Legs giving out, he sank to the floor and was immediately buried in a self-loathing so deep that it was a moment before he was aware of the strong arms encircling him. Kurt gasped and flung himself out of Blaine's embrace, his shoulder connecting painfully with the wall in his effort to scoot away.

"Am I that bad a kisser?" Blaine whispered hoarsely, perplexed by Kurt's actions. He couldn't understand what was making Kurt behave so… Abnormally. Kurt, the ever-courageous diva, bawling his eyes out over something he'd obviously wanted to do very much was something Blaine couldn't wrap his mind around.

Kurt moaned unintelligibly. "That was uncalled for, Blaine. I'm so sorry. You can just leave now."

"What are you even saying, Kurt? Are you throwing me out? After that? After that—That kiss?" Blaine fumbled over the last word, hardly believing his ears. He really couldn't get what Kurt was trying to say.

"That kiss? That kiss?" Kurt yelled hysterically. "That was not a kiss, Blaine. That was an assault! It was uncalled for and I know you'll be disgusted, so just go away and leave me, Blaine. You don't have to act like a gentleman all the time, it's perfectly fine to yell and storm out on me, okay?"

"But—"

"This makes me no different from Karofsky, Blaine! Forcing myself on people for my own benefits, taking advantage of someone's weakness, practically invading your personal space… I'm exactly like that bully, now! Doing things on the spur of the moment is only acceptable when it doesn't involve physical contact without permission, and nothing gives me the right to have kissed you!"

Silence.

Kurt did not look at Blaine, nor did he make any more efforts to move away. Blaine was going to walk out of the room at any moment and stay far away from Kurt from now on, and every time they'd meet at Warblers rehearsals, it'd be akin to scraping the skin off his own arm. Kurt just wished Blaine would hurry up and get a move on so that he'd be able to sink all the way to the floor and rightly hate himself for the monster he'd become.

"If I said you have my permission, would you get up off the floor?"

The quiet serenity in his voice wasn't what startled Kurt. It was the sincerity; Blaine really meant what he'd said. He was being brutally honest, laying down his inhibitions and showing Kurt what he was truly thinking. It was enough to stem the incessant flow of tears on Kurt's face, enough to make him snap his head up to look at Blaine, enough to get his breath shortening again. Dare he hope…?

"It doesn't make you a bully like Karofsky, because you do have my permission, Kurt." Blaine bit lightly on his bottom lip, a small, unsure smile etched on his lips. It was the first time Kurt had seen Blaine so vulnerable and without his usual air of self-confidence. This was Blaine Anderson at the core, the shy, caring, sensitive guy beneath all those layers of Dalton uniform – or, in this case, that silly pair of maroon slacks.

Hesitantly, Blaine reached out his arm across the small amount of space between the two of them to splay his fingers on Kurt's flaming cheek. His fingers were cold from the shower, but were a welcome relief to Kurt, who felt as though he was going to combust at any moment. When he was certain Kurt wasn't going to run away again, Blaine lifted himself into a kneeling position and took Kurt's hand in his own free one.

"And this – this should have been your first kiss, Kurt." he murmured and ducked his head in to place his cool lips on Kurt's burning ones.

To say that fireworks exploded behind his eyelids was a great understatement; to Kurt, it felt like a nuclear fusion in there. Automatically, he sighed and leaned into Blaine's kiss, deepening it. Blaine's lips worked slowly on his, gradually building up speed as their fingers laced through each others' and Kurt's hand leaped up to curl through Blaine's hair for the second time that day. After what seemed like an eternity of heaven – and mounting sexual tension – Blaine broke the kiss, but stayed with his forehead pressed against Kurt's.

"You taste like fruit." His voice was hoarse, spots of color high on his cheeks.

"The Slushies were grape." Kurt replied feebly.

Their eyes linked for a short, everlasting moment before they both broke out in breathless laughter at the same time. Their giggles didn't last too long, however, because their hot breaths on each others' faces drew out more demanding desires which they couldn't suppress.