Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon
Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles
Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)
Authors Note: I have this story up on my livejournal, but I wanted to post it here as well. It has a different title on livejournal, on livejournal it is Give Me Strength but as I was writing it, I came up with a better title for it.
Yes, I know I haven't updated Klaine yet, I plan to, but as I stated in that story, I have school going on, and I have the first seven chapters of this short story finished. I suspect there will only be about nine or ten. At least nine.
It is rated M for a reason.
Blaine Anderson really couldn't dance - he really just couldn't, so why he signed up for Hummel's Dance Academy he wasn't quite sure. He just saw the flyer swinging through the breeze as he was walking down the busy New York street, it had flown into his face, cliché he knows, but it does, and when he looks down at it, he just decides to go for it. What harm could it do, really?
There were a few things that Blaine Anderson was good at though, one of those things being blowjobs. Yes, Blaine Anderson could give an exceptional blowjob - for a price, of course. Because when you're 21, jobless and living with your crazy best friends because you were evicted out of your house because of the bills, giving blowjobs to gay men who are as lonely as you are was a good way to go.
Lonely seems to be a word that strikes Blaine's world a lot - lonely is really what he is most of the time, the last real boyfriend he ever had was from high school, but that was a mutual breakup, with an understanding between the two of them, that their relationship wasn't working out, and they ended it weeks before graduation.
"Blaine you don't even know how to dance," Wes said, as he relaxed on the couch, folding one leg over the other, fixing Blaine with a stare he had seen from Wes far too many times to count.
Hence why I'm taking lessons, Wesley," Blaine snapped back, his voice rich with sarcasm.
"Please, you just want to find another boy to fuck," David called from the kitchen, as he poured Blaine some coffee into a thermos, walking into the small living room and then handing it to him
"No, actually, I don't even know anyone there is even playing for my team - I'm going to dance," he paused, "But if there happens to be someone who is, that'll certainly be a upside to the whole thing."
Wes scoffed, "You're disgusting."
"Nope, I just like sex."
The thing is, Blaine wasn't always like this. There was a point in time where sex wasn't the only important thing in his life. There was a point in time when Blaine was the top in his classes at University, he had friends, a job, and a couple potential love interests to pursue. Where everything went wrong, he wasn't sure, but he figured it was arond the time his father returned home after years and years of him leaving his family, with an intent on making his very gay son straight.
It obviously didn't work, because that's when Blaine started to rebel against his father, by going to the bar and bringing the first gay man he could find and having loud, obnoxious sex that night. The pay Blaine for that was a nice lay, and a hard punch in the face by his father the next morning, only then to be kicked out of his parent's house and onto the street, just months before graduation. Which was when Blaine had found his own apartment, in the first place.
By the time Blaine had graduated, he had lost his job, and was now living with Wes and David, but the trill he had with bringing men home from the bar - hot, experienced men - wasn't leaving him, so Blaine started doing it again, and again, and in no time at all, he was the man being taken home. There were a few times where Wes had threatened to kick Blaine out on the street unless he got his act together, but Wes never went through that the threat.
David sighs, and sits down on the couch next to Blaine, who just smirks in return and steps up grabbing his green jacket from the hanger and slipping it on, waving goodbye to his two friends and starting to walk to the dance studio.
The winter air is cold, and it nips at Blaine's uncovered ears, behind his unruly, curly hair, Blaine remembers as a child when he would make snowmen with his younger sister, the sister who he hadn't seen or spoken with in a year. When you live in New York City, it's surprisingly easy to avoid the people who don't want to see.
For a moment, a simple moment the loneliness that surrounds Blaine every moment of every day comes out and hits his heart in one brutal hit. For a moment, Blaine wants to cry, something he hadn't let himself do in a long, long time. But Blaine never lets these feelings stay for long. He pushes them into the back of his heart, like he's done for years now.
The dance studio is an old building, it's been here for a few years, the floors getting old and creaky, and it has an old musty smell. A small group of people are gathered by the door, most of them are young girls chattering away, one girl with brown hair and bangs walks her way up to Blaine, handing him a clipboard.
"You have to write your name, age, and how many years of dance experience you've had," she says with a large smile that Blaine is finding really creepy, so he writes everything that the woman says handing her back the clipboard and she reads it over, "Zero years of experience?" she says with a laugh, "Well okay. I'm Rachel Berry, by the way, future Broadway star, nice to meet you ... Blaine Anderson."
Blaine nods, "Um, yeah, you too," he pushes past Rachel to go to the wall and lean against it as he waits for the class to start, but the smaller girl just follows after him, smiling with a smile that Blaine knows, it's the - "wow this boy is cute, I wonder if he's single, let's become his friend" face, and right before Rachel can open her mouth to say anything else, Blaine says very bluntly, "I'm gay."
The girls mouth hangs open, she flushes a dark red, "O-oh..." she stammers, "I wasn't actually going to-"
"Sure you weren't," Blaine says with a chuckle, "But it's fine, I'm sort of used to it." Blaine sways from foot to foot, looking around the room once again, "So, who runs this shin-dig?"
"Kurt Hummel," Rachel says like Blaine is supposed to know, "Why did you even sign up for this, you don't even seem vaguely interested in dancing," Rachel suddenly snaps, folding her arms over her chest, scowling at Blaine.
Blaine shrugs, "I thought I could maybe learn," he says with a snort, raising an eyebrow at the smaller girl, "Aren't these dance lessons?"
"Yes, but still, you don't even seem interested."
"I'm hiding my excitement."
Rachel rolls her eyes before sauntering away from Blaine and back to the large group of women. Blaine thinks it's funny how easily he can piss people off, because he honestly isn't trying to push people away, it's really not his fault that people are stupid most of the time in front of him. All he wants to do is have sex with people for no reason at all, is that really such a horrible thing? Does it make him a horrible person? No, it just makes him a needy, hormonal, horny young man, and in Blaine's world that isn't a bad thing.
Instead of following after Rachel, Blaine just leans against a wall, his arms folded over his chest and waits for the class to start. He spots Rachel telling a large woman about him - he knows because Rachel is talking very loudly, and is making a lot of eye contact and pointing at him. Blaine knows that he probably isn't the most interesting person to meet outside of the bedroom, it's why he doesn't have many friends except for Wes and David, but Blaine knows that they're only being his friend right now out of pity. He knows the only thing Wes wants to do is kick him out on the street, but the only thing that is keeping him from doing so is David's pleas that he thinks Blaine can change. Blaine finds the word change funny, because to him, you can only change for the worst, not for the better. His father certainly proved that.
Large doors swing open, and a tell, lean young man walks out, and for a moment, Blaine stares, he actually stares, and he feels like an idiot. Because Blaine Anderson doesn't stare at anyone or anything, he's Blaine Anderson, he doesn't get attracted to people, he just has sex with people. But this man, boy is he stare-worthy, brown hair, eyes that seemed to be blue and green but grey all at the same time. A fit chest, and he's tall, taller than Blaine, (though most people are taller than Blaine) and he has this face, this round... soft looking face and all Blaine wants to do is take it in his hands and just hold it for a moment. He looks like glass, Blaine thinks, He looks like one of those porcelain dolls that his grandmother used to have.
That's Kurt Hummel, Blaine realizes.
That can't be Kurt Hummel. Blaine's dance teacher can't be that attractive, how the hell is Blaine supposed to concentrate?
Kurt beckons the group in, and Blaine follows along at the back, his eyes still pinned to the back of Kurt's head, as he follows after. They enter into a large dance room, with a long mirror on one wall, and bars, just like a ballet studio, and Blaine then wonders if Kurt can do ballet, and if his legs can bend like that...
"Welcome," Kurt says, and Blaine can only think, 'Oh shit, are you kidding me? He sounds like an angel too!' "My name is Kurt Hummel, and I will be your instructor today. First I want to tell you a bit about me... I'm twenty years old, and I've been dancing since I was five when I asked my father to sign me up for a dance production of 'Swan Lake',"
Awesome. Ballet. He can bend like that.
"Dancing is more than an activity for me, it's my passion, what I life for. Just like a writer's passion would be writing, or an athlete's passion would be to play football for the rest of his life. I hope these next two weeks will be a fun experience for you all, and I'm sure you'll be a joy to teach."
A small applause goes over the dance room, and Kurt does a little bow. He tells everyone to line up in front of him, and they do so. All the girls are at the front, while Blaine is at the back, still unsure of what to do. He wonders if Kurt has even noticed him, and then he wonders why he wants Kurt to notice him.
The dance class goes by painfully slow for Blaine to handle, Kurt has them stretch, and then do jumping jacks to prepare themselves. They do a few dance moves over and over again, and Blaine almost laughs out loud because he's dancing, he is dancing, and he never dances, because he can't dance, but here he is dancing at Kurt Hummel's dance class.
Once the class is over, all the girls fall out, but Blaine stays behind, he's just watching Kurt again seeing what he does. Maybe this is too creepy, maybe Blaine can now qualify as being a stalker, because here he is just watching his dance teacher, who surprisingly hasn't noticed him still here, (or has he?)
"I know what kind of person you are," he hears Kurt say, from where he was bending over, putting away piles of CDs he had brought to class today.
Blaine clears his throat, and stands up more, "And who may that be?"
"You're the kind of guy that my best friend's dated in high school," Kurt is standing up now, facing Blaine, and they're a meter away from each other now, and Blaine is just smirking at him, "You know, the kind who just sign up for these things so they can watch girls in spandex, hoping that one night after class you can take one of them home, and then the other, and the other, until you basically have fucked the whole class," There's a pause, "Am I right?"
Blaine laughs, smirking at Kurt, "Not at all, oh wise one," Blaine shoves his hands in his pockets, "Because I like dick."
Kurt blushes, and Blaine just stares at the rosy, pink cheeks, "Oh," Kurt says breathlessly, "I didn't expect that. Y-you don't look..."
"Gay? Yeah I get that a lot."
"I'm sorry if I..."
"Offended me? Oh no, you didn't," Blaine is still smirking, because he's already making his dance teacher flustered, and really if it's this easy, Blaine will be able to woo him into bed in no time.
"I-I'm gay too... you know..." Kurt says, playing with the nails on his fingers awkwardly.
"I could tell by your obvious blushing," Blaine said, which just makes the younger boy blush even more, and Blaine feels like he's accomplishing something.
"I'm not going to date you."
"Didn't say you had to."
"You were right about one thing, though.
"And what was that?" Kurt's neck is craned, and he's back in his stance of leadership, his arms are placed on his hips, and Blaine is still just smirking at him, because he can still tell that the boy is blushing.
Blaine walks closer to the younger boy, still smirking, "I do like sex," he whispers roughly, before turning dramatically on his heel and walking out of the dance studio.
Oh, yeah, Blaine could woo this boy into oblivion if he wanted to.