Title: for decisions and revisions (which a minute will reverse)
Author:
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (mentions later on of Finn/Quinn, Puck/Rachel, and Sam/Mercedes)
Rating: T (rating might go up in later chapters)
Disclaimer: Glee, Kurt, and Blaine all belong to FOX, and the idea behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon Glee, Kurt, and Blaine all belong to FOX, and the idea behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon .
Summary:
Five ways that Kurt and Blaine didn't meet, and the one way they did.
Notes: This will be a six chapter story, but it's important to realize that, with the exception of the last chapter, each chapter is an AU in its own right and completely unrelated to the chapters that come before and after. It's a fanfic comprised of six one-shots. The title comes from the poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot .
Spoilers:
Eventually through 2x16 "Original Song," but not until Ch. 6 .


One.

It was dark outside. The summer air wasn't too thick and weighed down with humidity, and every now and then a warm breeze would drift across the earth. The moon hung heavy and full in the midnight sky. It was the epitome of a beautiful evening.

And Kurt was being strangled.

He probably would have been more alarmed at his current predicament if it didn't happen at least once a week. Sometimes the hands bruised him more heavily than others, and sometimes he had fleeting moments when he genuinely feared for his life.

This was not either of those times.

Seriously, what had his life come to? He was being strangled and he was bored. He sighed and flicked his eyes down towards the bumpy visage of the creature in front of him. Dropping his hands from where they were loosely circling the vampire's wrists, he pulled a thin wooden stake from his back pocket and thrust it forward.

The grip around his neck disappeared in a plume of ash, and Kurt wrinkled his nose. "I really should know better than to wear designer vintage on patrol duty," he muttered to himself, running his hands over his leather jacket. "Damn vampires, getting dust everywhere." He sighed and glanced around the graveyard.

There was nothing but the sound of cars nearby and crickets chirping. Kurt pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and put the buds in his ears – it would probably he safer not to be listening to music while he was acting as vampire bait, but he had learned to rely heavily on the heavy tingle that ran up his spine whenever something demonic was nearby.

"I do it every time," he sang to himself, dancing a little bit around the grave markers. A couple meters away, a heavily shadowed figure watched him, and stepped forward. "You're killing me now…."

"Pardon me?"

The interruption went unheard. Kurt continued his shimmying around the mausoleum, pressing himself against the hard, stone wall while he sang.

"And I won't be denied by you-"

"…Slayer?"

"The animal inside of y-OH, MY GOD." Kurt yanked his headphones out when he spun around, suddenly feeling a violent shiver up his spine. A man that appeared to be physically around his same age stood in front of Kurt, eyes wide and mouth pursed in an attempt not to laugh.

Kurt was not as amused. He pulled the stake back out of his pocket and held in underneath his armpit while he wound his headphones back around his phone. "You know," he said, heated. "It's common courtesy not to sneak up on people, especially when they're having a private moment."

The vampire grinned at him. "You were dancing."

"Private. Moment." Kurt sniffed and pushed his hair back out of his eyes, giving the vamp a once over. "So. You want to do this?"

Confusion settled into hazel eyes, and black eyebrows twitched upwards. "Do…what?"

"You know. This. You fight me, I fight you, someone overpowers the other, and then somebody's either dust or dead." Kurt shoved his iPhone into his jacket pocket and let the stake fall into his hand. He gestured at the vampire with impatience. "So?"

"Whoa, hey, no," he said, holding up both hands and taking a step back. His eyes followed the pointy wood warily. "I don't want to kill you. I don't wanna kill anybody."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"I'm new in town," he continued. "My name's Blaine, by the way, nice to meet you, but I just moved here because of the Hellmouth. I heard the Slayer lived around the area, and just thought I would offer my services."

"Unless your services include leaving me alone or becoming dust-"

"They don't, actually," Blaine said, and dropped his hands with a sigh. "Listen, I'm not like your usual vampires. I don't like humans. Well," he amended quickly, shrugging his shoulders at Kurt. "I like humans fine, actually. I used to be one, centuries ago, and I've been around them long enough to remember why they're so fond of being alive. What I meant was, I don't like human blood. Too tangy. Sticks to the roof of your mouth. I hate that feeling, you know?"

Kurt stared at the short vampire, mouth gaping open slightly. In his four years as the Slayer, he hadn't ever encountered a vampire who just felt like chatting. He cleared his throat. "Like…peanut butter?"

Blaine grinned at him. "Exactly. Man, I wish I'd been human when peanut butter was invented. It tastes pretty good now, but I can't imagine…you know, before my taste buds decided blood was delicious, I'm sure peanut butter would have been my favorite."

Kurt was at a loss for words.. The only thing he managed to get out was, "I'm sure," before he turned on his heel and started walking away. "What in the world—" he whispered to himself, looking over back over his shoulder.

Blaine had disappeared. Something that felt vaguely like disappointment twinged in Kurt's chest, but quickly left when he turned around and heard himself shriek like a little girl. He threw his hands up and sent the stake flying through the air, pulling both of his palms hard against his mouth.

Blaine was standing very, very close to him. Still grinning like a fool.

"Stop it," Kurt bit out. "sneaking up on me. Some of us still have beating hearts that can't handle it."

"Aren't you the Slayer?"

"Aren't you a vampire?" he countered. "Supposed to be a dark creature of the night, doomed to an unlife of soulless damnation until I come along and dust your sorry ass?"

Blaine shrugged leather-clad shoulders at him, and tucked his hands into his pockets. "That's the gist of it. Except for one part." He crooked a finger at Kurt and beckoned him closer. Kurt didn't budge an inch, and Blaine dropped his hand without looking too bothered about it. "You, my good sir," he said, and dipped into a low bow, "are looking at a souled vampire."

Kurt cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. "Vampire with a soul? And here I thought you were going to tell me something exciting. Have you seen my stake?" He cast his eyes around he ground, searching for his weapon. "I swear, I lose this thing every day…" Giving up his search for now, he turned around to face his unwanted companion. Blaine's eyebrows were furrowed together, and he had crossed his arms across his chest, and the expression on his face could only be described as 'downtrodden.' "Oh, my God. What is wrong with you? Are you pouting?"

"Souled vampires are rare, okay?" Blaine snapped, and leaned his shoulders against the mausoleum. "I'm the only one that's ever retained their soul after being turned. There's no reason why. I just am, and the last time the Powers That Be got wind of more than one souled vamps existing, they set the First Evil on the world and tried to watch it burn!" He heaved an unnecessary sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Kurt wrapped his arms around his body and glanced down towards his feet, toeing the wooden stake that had apparently been right next to him the entire time. He felt like a chastised little child, and could feel the blush blooming high on his cheekbones.

Blaine swept his eyes over Kurt's figure, lingering on the lock of hair that had fallen over the Slayer's forehead. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said, voice significantly calmer. "It's just…hard. I've been alone for so long, and your reputation made it seem like you would understand. I'd heard through the demon grapevine that you were a little bit more understanding with my kind, until they tried to kill you." Blaine stood upright, and made his way back towards Kurt, and clapped one hand firmly on the tall Slayer's shoulder. "Maybe sneaking up on you was a bad idea. I see that now." His hand fell, grazing down the length of Kurt's upper arm as it went. "I'll go."

The vampire shoved his hands into his jeans, feeling his thighs flex beneath his palms as he began walking backwards and away from Kurt.

"Wait."

He stopped.

Kurt pulled at the sleeves of his jacket nervously, straightening out any creases before he crossed his arms back over his chest. He had an odd expression on his face, like the words that were about to come tripping out of his mouth tasted like acid. Blaine wondered briefly what he could possibly be about to say that would cause such a look.

"I'm…sorry."

Ah, so that was it.

Kurt had pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin up a little bit in an attempt to seem nonchalant, but Blaine could still see the way his fingers were flexing nervously against his leather-clad bicep. His tone was hard and his words faltered when they fell off his tongue. "I've…never had a vampire try to…talk to me before. Usually it's just the attempted murder crap. And you…caught me off guard. So I was jumpy. I normally sense that type of stuff but with you…I can't. Not until you're right here. In front of me, I mean. Or behind me." Kurt's eyes widened when he saw Blaine try to suppress a smirk. "Not in a sexual way. No. Absolutely not."

"Oh? And why not?"

Kurt's face flushed beautifully and he pivoted on his heel. "I'm not talking about this with you," he bit out, bending over to pick up his stake and Blaine took a brief moment to appreciate the view provided to him. Kurt straightened back up and began taking several long strides away from the vampire behind him. "I try to apologize and you're standing there making crude comments and it's wholly unappreciated. I bid you farewell."

In a rush of unnatural movement that sent a slight wind past Kurt, Blaine was suddenly in front of him. Kurt's feet stopped in their tracks, and he looked behind himself quickly before redirecting his gaze towards the vampire. "How…" he began, but the words died in his throat. "I haven't ever seen a vamp move that fast before."

"That's what you get when you've been around as long as I have. Your senses and abilities just kind of…magnify." Blaine shrugged as if it weren't impressive.

"How old are you?"

Blaine pursed his lips to the side in thought, tilting his eyes towards the night sky. "Well, if you're asking for specifics, I'd have to say maybe around…oh, gosh, I don't know. A thousand years old?" Kurt's mouth gaped out. "Give or take a few centuries."

"A few centuries, he says. Centuries, like they grow on trees."

"In my defense, they don't seem too long after a millennia."

Kurt's brain began to hurt. He pushed two fingers on each hand against his temples and shook his head, trying to clear his muddle mind. "And…you've been totally off human blood that whole time?"

"You mean other than when I first clawed my way out of the ground? Pretty much. That first night you're a vamp…it's a doozy. Most of the time, makers just leave their childe to find their own way. I wasn't so lucky. As soon as I had finished fighting my way out of hundreds of pounds of dirt and other dead bodies, my sire was forcing the blood of…" His eyes cast down in shame, and his voice lowered "She…she was younger than my sister, I think. I threw up the blood as soon as it reached my stomach." He let out a humorless laugh. "Haven't had a taste for the platelets of homo sapiens since the day I rose." Kurt took a step closer when Blaine looked off into the woods to their left, the pain in his face evident even in profile. "My maker…he…wasn't pleased. I was punished—beaten brutally, and left for the sun. I managed to crawl to safety, and I've been living off of animals for as long as I can remember."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Kurt asked, softly.

Blaine shrugged, and knew that if he still had blood pumping through his veins he'd be blushing in embarrassment. "I don't know," he admitted, shrugging. "You're the Slayer. I trust you."

"Yeah, as a vampire? I'm pretty sure that's the last thing you're supposed to do," Kurt pointed out, and gave a small, toothless smile to let on that he was joking.

Blaine's shoulders relaxed, and he gave a short laugh. "You're probably right about that." He looked over towards the sky, taking note of the ever-lightening sky. "Sunrise, soon," he pointed out, voice soft. "I should probably go. When you're as old as I am, it doesn't take much time to burn."

"Wait," Kurt said, for what felt like the millionth time that night. "Where are you staying?"

Blaine looked at him, with those damn expressive eyes and stupid triangular eyebrows, and smiled with those perfect lips and oh, God, Kurt was attracted to him. "Why? Planning on making a…" he ran his eyes up and down the Slayer's slender form. "…personal call?"

Kurt blushed furiously and looked away. "Why," he breathed, and cleared his throat to strengthen his voice. "Why would you say that? Why do you keep saying things like that?"

"Well, you're gay, aren't you?" Blaine asked, bluntly. "Unless my gaydar's become rusty in the past couple of decades. I just assumed…"

Kurt had a brief moment where he wanted to lie and say that he was straighter than…than a ruler (his metaphors weren't in their prime at four in the morning), just to mess with Blaine's head, but there was just something about the way he was looking at Kurt that required total honesty.

"Yes. I am."

Blaine grinned at him, exposing canines that were naturally a little bit pointier than most. "Good. I'm staying at the old Anderson manor, ten minutes outside of Lima." He fished around in the pocket of his jacket for something and grabbed Kurt's wrist, pressing something cool and metal into his palm. Kurt uncurled his fingers and stared at the key, glinting silver and blue in the light of the steadily climbing sun. Blaine pulled on his wrist until his mouth was level with Kurt's ear. "Don't be a stranger," he whispered, then released Kurt and backed away. He threw him a wink, before speeding away in a blur of movement.

The trees rustled in his wake.

Kurt stood in the graveyard for a few moments longer, examining the key with utter confusion, before sighing in resignation. He slipped the key into his pocket and took out his iPhone, unwinding the earphones. He pressed the pieces into his ears and took one last cursory glance at the world around him, before he began the long walk home.

Blaine, hidden deep in the shadows of the trees, smiled when he heard the gentle murmur of Kurt's singing.

Take a bite of my heart tonight...