Blaine sets the cup down in front of Kurt, startling the other boy out of a haze. Kurt smiles at him in thanks, wrapping his hands around his drink.
"Lost in thought?" Blaine asks, sitting down.
"Brooding, mostly," Kurt sighs, testing the coffee with the tip of his tongue. "Can I ask you something?"
"It's about the bullying. At your old school. Sort of." Blaine nods, encouraging him. "How long did it take for you to… stop thinking about it?"
Blaine takes a sip of his own coffee. "What do you mean?"
"About the bullying. I mean. I've been at Dalton for a few months now and I still… hear them. I still feel like at any moment I could get slammed into a wall." Kurt sits back in his chair, flexing his hands into angry fists. "I just. It's not fair. They shouldn't be doing this to me still. I left them, why can't they just leave me alone?"
Blaine leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Well, how are you dealing with it? With feeling angry?"
"Blast some Sondheim in my room and angrily go about my skin care routine?"
Laughing, Blaine folds his hands. "That's… not really dealing with it." He pauses, looking at Kurt and chewing the inside of his lip. "What if, I could help you," he says carefully, "deal with your anger? Channel it. Help you get it out of your system."
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "How?"
"When I transferred to Dalton, I felt like you. Angry. Still scared. Angry that I was still scared, that I was still letting them get to me. But I found a way to get rid of it. I, uh." His gaze flits away from Kurt's for a moment. "I started a fight club," he says, voice low.
A laugh bubbles up from Kurt's chest. "A fight club? Like the movie?"
"Yeah, a fight club. We may be Dalton men, be we still get angry. We just have a… different way of dealing with it."
"Are you serious?"
"Once a week. There's a warehouse we go to. To let off some steam."
"Aren't you breaking the first rule of fight club? And the second one?"
"Kurt, I'm being serious. It's natural to get angry, but it's not healthy to keep it bottled up."
"I'm sorry, I am. I just have a hard time imagining… Thad beating up Nick or something. You have to admit, it's a little ridiculous."
Blaine grabs his cup and swings his bag onto his shoulder. "Come on."
Kurt looks up at him, confused. "Come on? Come where?"
"Come on out to the car. We're leaving." He picks up Kurt's cup and heads out of the Lima Bean, not bothering to wait for Kurt to follow.
Kurt catches up to him as he's climbing behind the wheel of his car. He jogs to the passenger side and gets in. "So where are we going?"
"Nowhere," Blaine answers, stripping off his blazer and loosening his tie.
"Blaine, I don't understand…" Kurt's voice trails off as Blaine starts in on the buttons of his shirt. "Blaine!" he hisses, but Blaine's already done and is pulling his shirt open, turning to face Kurt.
His chest is covered is bruises and cuts, from his collar bone down his ribs. Some of the bruises are yellowing, but many of them are fresh, some of the cuts still open.
"We meet up on Thursday nights, a couple hours after rehearsal," he says. "It's not just Warblers though. It's guys from all over in the school. It really helps. I swear."
Kurt shakes his head. "I can't do that. I can't just… go beat on some stranger. Or let some stranger beat on me. I don't even know how to fight."
"No, no, I don't mean for you to join. But I think maybe boxing, fighting, will help you. I can teach you." He smiles, a little smug. "I'm actually pretty good."
Kurt stares at him for a minute. "Does it really help you?"
"Like nothing else."
"Just me and you?"
Kurt nods, just once. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."
Blaine grins, buttoning up his shirt. "Awesome."
The gym is empty and shadowed, the only sounds the echoing smack of fists against a punching bag and Blaine's voice, firm and correcting.
"Keep your fists up. Your head low." He braces his shoulder against the bag, holding it steady.
"Don't lock your elbow, Kurt. Come on, you know that."
"We're not done yet."
Kurt drops his arms and steps back. "Blaine."
"What? What's wrong?"
Sighing, Kurt flicks a piece of hair away from his sticky forehead. "This. I mean, I'm getting a good work out, which is great, but I'm not really feeling the anger flow."
"Are you thinking about them? About the fear, the anger?"
"Mostly I'm thinking about my form. It's hard to focus at anything else with you barking at me."
Blaine thinks for a moment and wipes his mouth with the corner of his shirt. "Okay, I know what the problem is. Come here." He rips at the tape around his hand, peeling off the strips. "Take the tape off." He gestures to Kurt.
"So what's the problem?" Kurt asks, unwrapping his hands.
"You're just hitting a bag and that's not enough. You need a person to focus on." He balls the tape and tosses it on the ground. "Swing at me."
Kurt scoffs. "Excuse me?"
"Imagine I'm Dave or the football team or whoever. Swing at me."
"I'm not going to take a swing at you, are you insane?"
"Kurt, I know it sounds awful but trust me, it feels so good."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't hurt me."
"Punching you in the face won't hurt?"
"I can take it. Besides, I mean, no offense, but I don't think it would hurt all that much."
"Kurt, come on. You're not really that cut out for fighting."
"You should be a coach, you're really great at pumping people up."
"You swing like a girl."
"A couple times I thought I was spotting for Rachel."
"What are you even talking about?"
"But I bet she'd be better at it than you. Just one more way you'd be in her shadow."
"You hit like a girl. You sing like a girl. You even look like a girl. You're a triple threat."
"I said, shut up."
"Why don't you shut me up, Lady Face, and hit me?"
Kurt's fist flies almost on its own, and Kurt barely has a chance to think that Blaine was right, it's much easier when you act on instinct, before it's connecting with Blaine's jaw, steady and on target. Blaine stumbles back, caught by surprise, and with the sheer force of it.
Kurt freezes, fists still raised, eyes wide. They grow even wider when Blaine straightens up, his tongue darting out to prod at the split in his lip.
Dropping his hands, Kurt takes a tentative step forward. "Blaine, I am so sorry."
Before he can say anything else Blaine is on him, crashing their lips together and tangling his fingers into Kurt's hair, painfully tight. The weight of Blaine unbalances him, knocking him back into the punching bag. It offers up no support, moving with them, and he's stumbling again even as he circles his arms around Blaine's waist and pulls him closer.
Blaine presses him against the bag's support stand, shoving his tongue into Kurt's mouth, their teeth clacking together. He wraps an arm around Kurt's neck and pushes forward, grinding their hips together. Kurt moans into Blaine's mouth, his fingers finding their way under the hem of Blaine's shirt. He all but rips it off, his fingers back on Blaine's skin to rake his fingernails down Blaine's back. Blaine shudders and breaks away from Kurt's mouth to let out a gasp.
Kurt takes advantage of the distraction to spin Blaine around and throw him against the wall, wedging a knee between his knees and grabbing his face in his hands. He presses their bodies together and kissing Blaine again, head swimming. Blaine scrabbles to touch Kurt everywhere; digging into his ass to roll their hips together, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage, twining into his hair to direct the kiss.
Kurt can feel Blaine trying to take control, trying to guide him instead of following, and it sends a thrill of dark excitement through his veins. He grabs Blaine's wrists and pins them to the wall by Blaine's hips. "No you don't," he whispers against Blaine's mouth, then kisses along Blaine's jaw before nipping sharply at an earlobe.
Blaine's hips lurch against his and Kurt stumbles back, losing his footing and slipping onto his ass, Blaine following him down. Sharp pain shoots through him but it barely registers when Blaine is straddling Kurt's hips, grinding his ass down against Kurt, his tongue once again finding its way into Kurt's mouth.
They stay like that for a moment, kissing deep and hard with Kurt's hands on Blaine's waist, guiding him and setting the rhythm. But it's not right, not what he wants, what he needs.
He flips Blaine over onto his back, their mouths still attached, and Blaine lets out a noise of surprise. Kurt braces himself on an elbow and grips Blaine's knee, hoisting the other boy's leg over his hip and thrusting against him with a satisfied groan. Blaine whimpers, his back arching.
Kurt kisses down Blaine's chest, his tongue darting out the taste the slick saltiness of his skin. He keeps his hips rolling in a steady pace, grazing his teeth over Blaine's nipple. Blaine let's a needy whine, his hands sliding to Kurt's waist and digging in, trying to increase the speed.
The angry spark is back and Kurt adjusts himself so he's straddling one of Blaine's legs. He pries Blaine's hands away from him and holds them down, hovering over Blaine. "I said no."
Blaine gasps and bucks up against Kurt again, and Kurt smiles. With one hand he takes Blaine's wrists, pressing them into the floor above Blaine's head, using the other to twist Blaine's chin towards him. He kisses him hard, tongue sliding into Blaine's mouth. Blaine nips at his bottom lip and Kurt pulls back, just far enough away so Blaine can't reach. Blaine stares up at him, trying to strain against Kurt's grip to get at his mouth. Kurt waits until Blaine gives up and settles back against the floor, kissing him again.
It happens twice more before Blaine relents and let's Kurt use his mouth, whining deep in the back of this throat as Kurt's tongue fucks into his mouth. Kurt slides his free hand down Blaine's stomach until he's cupping Blaine outside his pants. Blaine ruts into the touch and Kurt presses down, not rubbing, just holding there. He spreads out on top of Blaine, pressing their cheeks together.
"Don't you dare." It's barely a breath against Blaine's ear but his hips stop moving, chest heaving. Kurt sucks on the curve of Blaine's neck, pulling a shudder out of him, and begins to circle his palm against Blaine in slow, firm circles. Blaine's eyes roll back and he bangs his head against the floor with a hallow rap.
Kurt stares down at Blaine, watching the way his jaw slackens and twitches, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Kurt leans and kissing him again, cock twitching when Blaine opens his mouth for him without a fight. Kurt licks the roof of Blaine's mouth and speeds the rhythm of his hand, grinding his hips into Blaine in time.
Blaine's entire body is trembling with the effort to keep back from thrusting into Kurt's hand. Kurt presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes to steady himself, panting.
"Do it," he says, leaning back to look at Blaine. "Come, now."
Back arching off the floor, Blaine chokes on a groan and comes. His arms are still pinned down, and he strains against Kurt's hold, heels digging into the floor so he can push into Kurt's hands. Kurt can feel the dampness seep into Blaine's sweatpants as he rubs Blaine through it, kissing lightly across Blaine's face.
Blaine collapses onto the floor and Kurt finally lets go of him, sliding back between Blaine's legs and plastering against the bodies together. It only takes a few thrusts before he's coming with a groan, face buried in Blaine's neck.
He rolls off of Blaine, breathing hard, thankful for the cool of the floor seeping into his overheated body. For a moment they lie there, blood pounding in their ears and gasping.
"So," Blaine says, breaking the silence, "did that help?"
Kurt barks out a laugh. "Yeah. Yeah I think that helped. But if you say that was your plan to begin with, I won't believe it."
Blaine smiles and shakes his head. "Nah, I was just making it up as I went."
"Does fight club usually end like this?"
"Not usually." Blaine turns his head and winks at Kurt, and with more motor control than Kurt has at the moment, searches out Kurt's hand, threading their fingers together.
Kurt closes his eyes and sighs. "I will say one thing."
"What's that?" Blaine hums.
"I like our club way better."