“I never did understand the bowtie,” Duran said absently. “I barely know how to tie a regular one, let alone a bowtie.” He grinned, eyes dropping down to admire Blaine’s accessory. He didn’t like to admit that he had help every morning from someone different at Dalton before faculty caught him, but then again, Blaine didn’t seen like the type to judge anyone. “The look suits you though. Now I can’t picture you going without.” Maybe he was flirting a tiny bit; Blaine was cute enough, how could he not? He knew better than the push boundaries, since Blaine did transfer to be with someone else.
He didn’t want to keep talking about pole dancing. There was no reason to start bragging now, and Duran also didn’t want to keep talking about Dalton. He liked it here, yeah, but there had to be more to Blaine than how cool he used to be here. Even if Duran wanted to actually go on about that. (he was starting to feel like he was developing a crush on the former Warbler.)
“So,” Duran said, shifting in his seat. “What kind of movies do you like watching?” Maybe if they happened to ever meet outside of school, they could easily kick back and chill. There was no reason to keep things that polite and professional. “Maybe we could get together sometime and hang out at my place. You can meet my brother, and oh, you’re more than welcome to bring your boyfriend, too.”
“You know? I can teach you,” Blaine felt the heat of his cheeks rise a few notches but he tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. Was it because of the comment on how Duran couldn’t picture him without a bowtie? Or was he picking up on the subtle flirting? Who’re we kidding? It was Blaine and his capability to be occasionally oblivious was legend to anyone other than himself. Definitely the comment on the bowtie. Maybe. Noticing the temperature on the sides of his paper cup dropped to lukewarm–he finished off the coffee with a couple sips. Another? Plenty of time left in his day and he was enjoying himself. Why not?
Looking up from the paper hand protector he idly fiddled with–Blaine gave Duran a curious head tilt but the other boy’s quick correction had him smiling broadly before he could reply. Hearing him quickly add Kurt to the invitation was sweet enough that his eyes brightened and twinkled reflecting the laugh he forced back. “Thank you. I appreciate you inviting Kurt. You didn’t have to seeing as how you don’t even know who he is. Or what he’s like. It’d mean a lot to him and does to me, too,” his lips formed the words carefully stressing that it wasn’t necessary for Duran to feel any pressure to invite yet another stranger into his home.
They could all meet here first if that were the case? See if him and Kurt got along? Though he figured they probably would? Jumping too far ahead much? Movies! They were talking about movies. “I like almost anything, really. As long as it’s not the horror stuff,” his face resembled someone biting into a lemon coated in something even more sour, “Not a fan. I like fantasy, dramas, suspense stuff is okay? Even the occasional action movie if it’s the right kind. Science Fiction would be at the top of the list though. How about you?”
He couldn’t stay there forever. Sleeping on the floor sounded easy enough but Kurt was not willing to go to such an extreme, that would just be embarrassing. He scooted aside and opened up the cabinet. ‘What’s wrong’? At the moment he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. He still had to change clothes… And answer Blaine. Found the aspirin at least. He slowly rose to his feet and heaved a heavy sigh. He stopped there, leaned on the counter and avoiding his own reflection – he’s positive that he has to look as bad as he feels at the moment – in favor of shaking a few pills out of the little bottle and taking them with some tap water. Kurt cleared his throat before speaking. “Don’t worry. Just a stomach ache.” He said as he finally opened the door.
More silence. Blaine was about ready to take it as a sign to back off when he heard Kurt rustling around. Another concerned glance was aimed at the door before he took a few steps back and loosely crossed his arms over his chest. Still no answer. Picking up his left hand from where it cupped his right elbow, Blaine rubbed the back of his neck and turned around only to pause at the sound of the door opening and Kurt’s voice. Looking back–his same worried expression moved across Kurt’s pallid complexion and dark undereye circles. “Just a stomach ache?” He gave Kurt a lopsided curve of his lips and rubbed the side of his pointer finger against the tip of his nose flicking the others outward like he was erasing the forced smile so he could give him a real one. “You don’t look so–,” he stopped and tried to tell himself it wasn’t his business. But? Feeling like he had to make sure Kurt was okay considering how worse for wear he looked wasn’t so easy to shake. Was it his place?
Kurt was already hiding out in the bathroom. Maybe he wanted to be left alone so he could sleep it off? Way to overthink, Blaine. “Anything I can do? Or I can step out and let you rest? Sorry,” he sighed embarrassedly towards the floor then peeked back up with a guilty grin. “I know you can take care of yourself. Guess I was worried. Considering where you’ve been locked away?”
SEND A 🍷 FOR MY MUSE TO SHOW UP DRUNK AT YOUR MUSE’S DOOR. @independentlyfinnhudson White knuckle grip on the doorframe? Check. Gushing apology prepared for Finn considering the time? Double–triple check. All he had to do was knock on the door but going through with it required a courage that the liquid form of it was seriously starting to run out. The longer he debated if he should have told the guy to drop him off down the block–apparently a ride home from the bar equalled getting a number shoved into his lap and more awkwardness than he could cope with for another fifteen minutes to his aunt’s house? Blaine was beginning to realize that this was more than a bad idea. It was a horrible one.
There wasn’t any promise that Finn would appreciate him being here. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. One huge relief was Burt and Carol were gone. He knew by Rachel telling them to have a safe trip on Facebook and–like always–Burt’s message was half typed before he sent it on accident and forgot that editing was a thing. Kurt and he both tried to teach the man how to work social media before he left for D.C. the first time but it was sort of like–how did Kurt say it? ‘Teaching a caveman how to work fire in the pouring rain.’ The memory hitched his shoulders and caused his head to bow so far forward that his forehead plastered itself against the door.
Blaine swayed once, twice, clutched the doorframe harder to keep from falling completely over. and wouldn’t you know it? Laughed sadly in spite of the tears in his eyes. A lightly curled fist swung blindly to knock on the door and gravity won when one rap had him off balance and his butt bounced on the cement. To hell with it. He’d just stay there and Finn wasn’t home? Or told him to leave and shut the door? Maybe a nap in the cold would sober him up some. Plus? It’d serve him right. Yet one more night added to the string of poor life choices under his belt. Wonderful. Perfect.Utterly freaking abysmal.
// Yas! Questions! Sorry I just got home from work so I am cranking some answers out trying to get my posting brain going. Let’s see how these and an energy shot help??
❣ – An unpopular opinion I have: I’m okay with going along the storyline of Blaine making the mistake and cheating on Kurt. A lot of people hated it and I didn’t particularly like it but I’m willing to write it and include it in how I portray him because I have plenty of headcanons why that happened. I’ll exclude it only if the verse I am negates it or I am asked because my partner doesn’t like it and I don’t hold that against anyone whatsoever. Will gladly chat about those reasons with anyone who’s interested if you hop in my messenger or kick me on Skype!
☒ – A fact about the mun: I have an absolute love for cheesy carnival haunted houses. I’ll make it a point to stop at any fair–no matter how big or small–that has one and I will go through them multiple times in one visit. Amusement park attendants of any park I go to that has a spookhouse soon learn my face and usually my name. And I’ve been to many. More than I can count in a lot of different states/towns.
☑ – A fact about the character: (Headcanon-y Fact) Blaine wasn’t the only one after the Sadie Hawkins Dance attack who switched schools. His friend did too but he had it much worse in the fact that he was so traumatized by what happened that he decided to keep being gay a secret at his new school and ended up cutting ties with Blaine. Which is why we don’t see anything about him other than Blaine’s story. Blaine has tried to contact him throughout the years but receives little to nothing back. After Kurt, his attempts to reconnect lessened but he still tried to check in on him now and then to no avail. Headcanon number two? I’d love to write with someone someday who’d play him when they are older and the friend moves out of Ohio, eventually comes out and Blaine gets to be there for him!
He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but accept the help. He’s been out here for a while he’s pretty sure, he can walk to the car just fine but when Blaine gave him something to lean on he didn’t protest. He did however worry about his aches that seemed to be just about everywhere – even if it only felt that way – being pressed on if he actually accepted that help. It wasn’t far. He didn’t realize how cold he was until sitting down and at that point it was a miracle he wasn’t shaking in his boots. A small smile tugged at the corner of Kurt’s lips just briefly when during all of this, he felt bad for his boots being twice as scuffed up as they were before. Incredible. Blaine returned with a shirt then, and Kurt hesitated a moment before setting it on his lap and pulling off his own. He put the t-shirt on quickly to avoid the cold as much as possible. For his own dignity he’d pretend he didn’t wince at the movement.
All in all his stomach was worst, shoulders and upper back not too happy either but between those and his elbows down he’s not sure. He’d actually care to figure out later but right now he just knows that those places ache – brick wall, shoulder scraped, didn’t fall–hair pulled, hit the ground, stop thinking, when will he stop kicking already, stop – and generally why. He pointlessly tried to cover his forearms – makeshift shields doubling as landing gear, and handles for the man – and look at anything other than himself so he looked towards Blaine again. Another dry swallow before he spoke. “…You’re soaked too.”
Blaine sat on his haunches beside the car like he was protectively waiting for Kurt to get comfortable. He was glad that he took the shirt to use fit just wanting to make Kurt feel somewhat better. Though completely okay was going to be far off by the looks of him. If he could help? Giving him a shirt and a dry place to sit was the least he could do. When Kurt pulled his shirt off and revealed the damage to the rest of his body? His blood ran cold before he quickly averted his gaze to the floorboard of his car trying to give Kurt privacy until he was covered up and hide a flare of perhaps oddly risen anger for a near stranger to have that much hurt inflicted upon them. Once again he found himself asking who could do something so awful to someone else.
Jarred back at the sound of Kurt’s voice–Blaine jerked his attention up and blinked a couple times. Right! He’d dropped his soggy mess of a newspaper once he took hold of Kurt. But he was already getting drenched before that. Now? Squatting in the drizzling rain? His hair was plastered to his forehead and his clothes were dripping wet. “Oh. Oh,” he batted at the air biting the corner of a sheepish grin before he stood up. “I’ll–uh–one second.” A delicate pull closed Kurt’s door until it was an inch or so away from begin shut completely–he’d let Kurt do that if he chose. Blaine hurridely crossed in front of the car to the driver’s side. “Guess I could warm us both up instead of sitting out there like an idiot,” he embarrassedly laughed after starting up the car and shutting his door. “I–um. Do you want to go home? Or–do you have a place to go? You can come with me and we can put you in better shape before you go home. But I live a ways away. Whatever you decide–I just–I want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”
“I promise.” He said softly. Kurt couldn’t describe how great it felt that he could calm Blaine down. That he was allowed to hold him like this. He wondered if it would be more poetic or humorous if he were an undead creature, how his heart seemed to stop when Blaine kissed him. Technically he might be, depending on the definition. He was killed but brought back as something else. He had a heart and a pulse just the same as any living creature. A different kind, but it was there. This was something he usually thought about in his spare time, not a serious situation. But honestly, when he felt Blaine cupping his face it was just so familiar it was heartbreaking.
Blaine wasn’t the last person he’s kissed anymore until that moment. Interesting from a distance how he could not only leave without a word but let himself be with someone else. If it crossed his mind then he’d be guilty, but he was hardly thinking for the time being aside from a simple ‘Don’t thank me’– He wasn’t lying but he might not be the right person to be here for Blaine. At this point it might be entirely selfish. That wasn’t about to stop him. He already was here. If he was going to keep his distance then he wouldn’t have come at all. This might not be good for either of them. Mostly, this might do more damage than good for Blaine. What was going to happen when he asked questions the next time? How many details would he have to tell him? Lying, and cheating, and dying and killing- maybe what went through his head during any given part of the story. It was a long story.
He did miss Blaine. He missed when this felt like home. Kurt didn’t have a person to call that as things are. Holding Blaine was like sleeping in his old room again; he wanted to be there but it was strangely…Crushing.
Red-laced hazel eyes softened at Kurt’s promise, staring up into the eyes that his brain refused to think of anything other than familiar. In spite of how they changed–Blaine was getting awfully good at lying to himself and pretending hard enough that he could believe what he convinced himself of to get by. His fingers curled against Kurt’s cheeks gliding his knuckles in a tender caress down the sides of his neck until they dropped to his shoulders. There were so many questions teetering on the fragile tightrope inside his mind that he walked across. But–in the end–he couldn’t bring himself to ask them because he wasn’t sure he could take the answers. Not yet. Not now. Not when he had Kurt’s arms still around him and that unending sway.
Instead–he clutched onto Kurt and let the weight of months of ache, worry, and losing his mind slide away. It could be the most dangerous thing he could do–sure. Falling back into the gravity that he lost when Kurt disappeared though? It wasn’t something he wanted to fight. He’d been waiting for so long for this. Now, he had it. Another brush of lips against the edge of Kurt’s then Blaine tucked his head down. Exhaling hard–he sagged against him and stayed there savoring how their chests rose and fell. His weight Kurt supported increased little by little over the span of minutes. The more he let go of the exhaustion he’d been holding back, the heavier it sank in just how much was waiting to catch up. He could fall asleep on his feet this felt so warm and perfect and–
He sharply sniffed, blinking back awake. Was he really drifting off? –No. Wake up. You just got him back. Wake up!– “Sorry–I’m awake.” Was it weird that an old bad habit of shaking off sleep was something that made him smile lazily because he let it? In comparison to not being able to? That this felt so much better. In the past? Before Kurt left? It was because he wanted their time together to not end. Be it cuddling, talking–other things. Blaine leaned back enough that he could look up at Kurt’s jaw as another wave of sleep lost the battle against his willpower but his legs feeling like they were in cement? Not so much. “Can we just lay down?”
Wreck was right. He wanted to speak, he did, but he wasn’t even sure what to say. A part of him wanted to just walk away because he was not about to trust a stranger with his well being, and like hell he couldn’t take care of himself, but with the state he’s in, clearly he isn’t as capable as he liked to think.
–Ambulance.” He looked at his own feet now. Kurt did not like the sound of that. He wasn’t afraid of hospitals exactly, he just felt unease there. And more importantly, walking into a hospital like this would mean his parents will know what he gets up to. The fact he’d have to talk to police in that case completely slipped his mind, none the less how badly that would work out(Even if they did listen to the drug using gay kid in Lima, sending police after the guy who did this probably wouldn’t help Kurt’s situation.
He didn’t flinch when Blaine touched him, rather, he only tore his eyes from the concrete and looked at him. What on Earth was this kid going to do? Take him home like a lost puppy and tell his parents what? But Kurt didn’t want to be out here anymore. He wanted to think that this might help so with a deep breath, he took his hand. “Okay.” His voice was rough and fairly quiet, but it was something.
Blaine waited hoping that Kurt would listen and he wouldn’t have to call 911.
Wouldn’t your first instinct be to call your parents if you were in the shape he was? Obviously–that didn’t happen so it was easy to deduce Kurt was either on his way home himself. Or in some sort of shock and avoiding it thinking he could handle it himself. Probably the second? Call him crazy but he had an inkling that Kurt probably wouldn’t want his parents seeing him like this. If that wasn’t the case? He would have gone him instead of wandering around lost and hurting.
God he had to be hurting and it made Blaine’s heart ache. Who cared if they barely knew each other? He couldn’t call himself a human being if he found someone tattered and torn up the way Kurt was and not feel horrible. Anyway. Kurt was the one that mattered and Blaine was determined to help him on his terms. Seeing him not flinch gave him hope he might listen. Their eyes met and Blaine’s went round before he snapped a wobbly, encouraging smile on. Along to where? He wasn’t sure but getting out of this spitting rain and cleaning him up would be a great start. Then Kurt’s hand was in his and he nodded to the grungy ‘okay’. He’d take it and run with it at this point.
One last look and he thought one better. Coming to stand at Kurt’s side–Blaine gingerly used their joined hands to place Kurt’s arm across his shoulders while he wrapped his arm around Kurt’s waist just above his hips trying to avoid hurting him any further. “You can lean on me if you need to. I got you.” A few feet later–Blaine shouldered open the door to his car and helped him inside. Then scrambled into the back, unzipped a bag and grabbed out the first Dalton t-shirt he saw. A nudge of his heel closed the back door and he was back at the passenger side not seeming to notice he was still in the rain when he handed Kurt the shirt and smiled. “Pointing out the obvious here but you’re soaked. Here. Use this.”
Blaine and Sam wearing each other’s clothes. @samevvns
Oh no way was he going back to that party looking like this! This was a stupid dare anyway! Switch clothes with Sam? Come on! He was swimming in fabric from head to toe. No matter how many times or how hard he pulled the cuffs of Sam’s pants to tighten them around his ankles–he ended up with inches of curled fabric bulging above them. The sleeves of Sam’s shirt were pushed up to his forearms and he swore he looked like a modern day pirates costume without the ruffles. And now his hair was a loose mess that he was busy taming down when he really needed a sink to get some style back. Sure–he was a little drunk but that didn’t do much to give him the stupidity or the nerve to walk out into a room full of people looking like a fool either! “I’m not going out there,” and if they didn’t they’d be facing a world of crap from their friends too.
Sighing like the weight of the world was on his shoulders–Blaine took a few steps back from the mirror he was dumb enough to stand in front of and called out to Sam who was getting ready–no pun intended cause why would there be–in the closet. What? No pun intended!“Okay! To save us the grief.. I’ll do it if you do it but you are so wearing the bowtie, too. Both of us need to look as goofy as each other! Or I’m backing out!”
The Lima Bean. Of course he wound up there. For some reason he didn’t want to go in. He just wanted to sit down. He reminds himself that inside would be better but he can’t change the path of his shuffle. There was someone out there. What on earth made him look like he was willing to talk? A moment later he realized it was one of those Dalton boys. The one that wasn’t phased by Kurt and bought him a coffee. Blaine. Blaine was talking- right. Kurt’s slow walk came to a stop. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He might have wheezed or whined. What was the question again? He shook his head before trying to wipe the line of blood from his temple – the first hit once he was cornered–don’t think about it – that kept getting into his eye when he stood like he did now; with most of his weight on his left foot because his right leg hurt worse and the rain diluted the blood to make it run more and faster. Where did his breath go? He swallowed dryly and stared at Blaine’s shoes, for once it was easier to look at those than at his face. He remembered the man’s shoes, decent dress shoes but Kurt had a nicer pair back home and a feeling that the guy wanted to feel extra tough by dressing nice to beat some kid in the rain. Right, he said that out loud at the time. That’s why his forearms hurt, the man had a very strong grip and yanked him up from where he was coughing on all fours.
Kurt shook his head again.
“Kurt,” he repeated more insistently this time trying to get the slightly taller boy to tune into him completely. Blaine cringed when the entirety of Kurt’s current state finally sank in. He was an utter wreck. Who could do this to someone else? Unfortunately, Blaine knew the answer all too well. Ohio seemed to be packed full of cretins that had nothing better to do with their time than break people apart who didn’t fit the bill of the ‘perfect person’ they considered themselves to be. Mostly verbally, mentally but when it got physical? It was brutal, without remorse, and utterly stomach churning to see the aftermath of. Hazel eyes flicked up to watch as Kurt tried to wipe some of the blood of his skin and Blaine ached to reach out and help but he wasn’t sure if he should dare attempt to touch him. Not until he was certain that Kurt would even allow it without swinging at him on autopilot. Sure, Blaine knew he could take a punch and probably get out of the way. But riling Kurt up wouldn’t work out okay for either one of them. “You do need help. You need it really bad,” Blaine’s voice was pleading for Kurt to listen to him. “Let me, please? Or I am going to call an ambulance.” A soft touch of his fingertips to the back of Kurt’s hand boldly tried to get Kurt to follow two backwards steps towards the passenger side of his car before it drop down chest high and hovering in the air with his palm facing up, fingers loosely curled towards the sky. –Take my hand. Please take my hand and let me help you.– “We can get out of the rain first. My car’s right here,” he thumbed over his shoulder and gently eased his still extended hand closer to Kurt’s waiting to see if he would trust him enough to take it.
✿ five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did.
First attempt
After swapping numbers with Blaine, Duran spent a few days going back and forth on whether or not he actually wanted to follow through with it. After three days, Duran gathered up enough courage to type out a small message.
[ txt ;; blaine ] hi, it’s duran.
That was stupid sounding. Smacking himself in the forehead, Duran erased the message and slid his phone back into his pocket. He’d worry about this after he finished his homework.
Second attempt
It was a couple of days later. Duran was sitting in the school hallway, reading from a textbook. Actually, he was listening to the Warblers practice. They were talking about something – Regionals coming up or something, it was all meaningless to him. He never before cared about what they sang, since his interests usually were elsewhere, but this time, he felt drawn to them for some reason.
[ txt ;; blaine ] listening to the warblers. kinda reminds me of you.
That was just as stupid as his first attempt. It was probably inappropriate; way too forward for people who barely knew each other. Frustrated, Duran shut his phone off and left. He had one last class to attend anyway, and he didn’t want to be late.
Third attempt
It was evening. Duran was lying on his bed, playing some stupid game on his phone. It wasn’t enough to hold his interest for long, so he closed out of it, only to accidentally open up his contacts. Maybe he could try texting Blaine again. He did have the number, so Blaine was probably expecting something.
[ txt ;; blaine ] whatcha up to?
That message felt too casual. He was never going to get it right at this point, so maybe he could just forget about the guy. They weren’t even really good friends anyway; Blaine was just someone he happened to meet at random. Erasing the text, Duran tossed his phone as he headed downstairs to grab dinner.
Fourth attempt
After grabbing coffee, Duran walked through the main doors of school, greeting some of his friends as they passed by. He was too sleepy to have a functional conversation, and sitting down in class obviously wasn’t going to change that. His professor was droning on and on, leaving Duran in a near stupor as he idly toyed with his phone.
[ txt ;; blaine ] morning classes are shit
What? No, he wasn’t going to send that one. At least that was enough to start waking him up. Erasing the text, Duran shoved the phone into his bag and sipped at his coffee. No more half asleep texts, ever.
Fifth attempt
It was the end of the school day, and Duran surprisingly didn’t have any homework to take with him. This meant another day of going home and either fighting with his brother over chores, or ignoring his family altogether and spending the rest of the evening playing on his pole. On his way home, he pulled his phone out again.
[ txt ;; blaine ] what are some of your favorite songs?
Squeezing his eyes shut, Duran let out a frustrated groan. Why was it so hard to actually hit the ‘send’ button? Why was he so freaking terrible at this? It wasn’t like there was actually anything going on between them. Just because Duran had one little crush didn’t mean he actually had to avoid the guy. It was frustrating, Duran was getting angry at himself, because this whole thing was just so stupid.
Erasing the message, Duran decided to try something else, and he was going to quit second guessing himself.
[ txt ;; blaine ] sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, been busy. wanna meet up for lunch sometime?
pianokeysandbowties 