Nothing's So Loud (4b/10)
Title: Nothing's So Loud (4b/10)
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade (GlassParade)
Rating: PG-13 to mild R in the future.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, reference to past Quinn/Finn and current Rachel/Finn
Genre: Romance, AU, Movie Adaptations
Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide.
Spoilers: While events and references from all three seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Currently 18,000+
Summary: Blaine Anderson is the easy going skateboarding slacker who's carried a torch for sheltered class Valedictorian Kurt Hummel for the last year. On the day they graduate from high school, he decides to do something about it. There's no way they should work. Everything will conspire against them. Can this unlikely pairing prevail?
Additional Notes: gameboycolor and naderegen wanted 90's Klaine. I suggested updating Cameron Crowe's iconic movie "Say Anything" to 1998 and making Blaine and Kurt into an analogue of Lloyd and Diane's star-crossed romance. This very loose adaptation, for better or for worse, is the result. Title is from the song "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket.
Apologies, but AO3 posting for this story has been suspended for now! They're having issues with their latest release that are making it impossible for me to post there.
“Excuse me. I want my keys.” Rachel's strident, teary voice broke the tension stretched between them, bringing them back to reality - or as close to it as they could manage, now. They turned to face her as one, a frown furrowing Blaine's brow as he took in her red, swollen eyes and tearstreaked cheeks. He reached out a hand to tip her chin up so he could look more closely.
“Are you okay to drive?” Blaine asked, leaning in to check her eyes. Kurt wondered as well. She looked generally sober, but also deeply, terribly upset. He'd only seen her three hours ago, what could have happened?
Rachel swatted Blaine's hand away from her face. “I'm fine,” she snapped, her voice cracking a little. “I only had a taste of that awful punch Puck made and I hated it, so I've been drinking Diet Coke all night. Not like stupid Finn with his stupid Zimas.” At Blaine's dubious look, she stepped back and lifted up one foot, balancing on it while she touched her nose with alternating hands and reciting the alphabet backwards. “See? Sober. Give me my keys, Blaine.”
But Blaine was frowning even harder and looking around the back yard. “Rachel,” he began, digging her keys out of the bag and holding them just out of her reach. “What's going on with Finn?”
She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve until Kurt took horrified pity on her and extracted a handkerchief from his vest pocket for her to use. “Nothing anymore,” she hiccupped with a noisy accompanying blow of her nose. “We are absolutely and completely done.” She tried to hand the used handkerchief back to Kurt, who recoiled. Gross.
Finn, now back in his normal clothing, stumbled out of the back door, Puck in hot pursuit. “Rach, I'm sorry!” He made a beeline for where she stood, bellowing apologies as he went.
But Rachel was having none of it. While Blaine was distracted by Finn's drunken shouting, she bounced up and snatched her keys out of his hand. With a defiant toss of her hair, she stormed off. “Keep away from me, Finn!”
“But baby!”
“Just get away!” she shrieked, heading through the back gate to get to her car. Blaine looked even more unhappy as he watched her go.
“I've got a bad feeling about this,” he began, only to be interrupted as Mike Chang tackled him for the second time that evening. “Ow! Jesus, Mike! You can just hug me if you're so excited to see me, you know!”
“Dude,” Mike howled. “Gimme my Firebird keys!”
“Ha ha! No.” Blaine shoved Mike off with a laugh, getting to his feet before helping the drunken Chang - now even more thoroughly trashed than he'd been earlier - to stand wobbly, but upright. “You must chill. I totally hid your keys.”
“Dude!” Mike was pouting, but Blaine shook his head and just hugged him.
“No way. Go sleep it off.”
“What for? I'm buzzed!” With a lurch, Mike pulled away, spun on his heel - and went down like a ton of the world's happiest bricks, snoring as soon as he hit the ground. The three other boys just blinked down at him in bemusement.
Blaine looked up first, catching Kurt's eye. “We'd better go look for Quinn. I don't like what's going on with Finn and Rachel, it always involves her somehow when they get like this.”
“I'm right here.” Quinn's voice was soft and blurred as she stood in the yard swaying gently, eyes unfocused and arms wrapped around her waist. Jeff stood behind her with her guitar case clutched in one hand, the other on her elbow to keep her up. He looked deeply unhappy.
“Quinn.” Blaine thrust the bag of keys at Puck and moved to grab his friend, pulling her into his arms just as her knees seemed to give out. “Quincy, no, what happened?”
“Finn said he had to go piss,” Puck volunteered, appearing severely uncomfortable. Kurt understood why with his next words. “I let him go by himself. Don't look at me like that!” He held his hands up defensively, backing away from a furious Jeff and Blaine. “I didn't think he could get in trouble just going to the john!”
“Unfortunately,” Jeff bit out, glaring at Puck, “That's about when Quinn decided she needed to go. They ran into each other when she was coming out.” He reached out to rub a hand on Quinn's back. “Finn begged her to talk to him, apparently, and it didn't go well.”
"He said he was breaking up with Rachel since she's going to NYADA and he's staying in Ohio," Quinn whispered in a voice so broken it hurt Kurt to hear it. "Then he asked me to sleep with him."
Blaine's jaw went tight and he hugged her closer. "Damn it. He would never have pulled that sober. What the hell, Puck, how could you take your eyes off of him?"
"Whoa, I'm not walking him into the bathroom and holding his junk while he takes a leak," Puck protested. "I'm sorry this happened, but my babysitting is not full service, dude. I got a party to run, I have to make sure people don't trash my mom's house." He lit a cigarette and glared at Blaine. "How come you weren't at her side to keep Finn away from her?"
It obviously pained Blaine to acknowledge that Puck was right, but he did so anyway, nodding tersely. "Fair enough, Puck, I'm sor -" He broke off and sniffed at the air. "Quinn. You smell like tequila. Like a lot of tequila."
"Santana Lopez pretty much poured half a bottle down her throat when she saw what was going on," Jeff explained, shaking his head. "Then she brought her back to me and said she was my problem."
"Shit. She's not supposed to drink while she's on Prozac." Slightly panicked, Blaine pushed Quinn back, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders as he scanned her face. Kurt could see that her eyes were half closed and her head lolled a little too loosely for his comfort. "Quinn. Come on, Quincy. When did you last take your Prozac?"
"After lunch," she mumbled, and Blaine heaved a sigh of clear relief before pulling her back into an embrace. "I'm fine. Sleepy, though."
"No kidding." He scooped her up in his arms. "Puck, sorry, you're on your own as Keymaster. I'm getting her out of here. Jeff, Kurt, give me a hand getting her into my car?"
“Don't wanna go home,” Quinn muttered as they made their way through the house, looping her arms around Blaine's neck.
“Don't worry, I'm not taking you home yet,” he assured her. “We'll drive around a while, okay?” Glancing over at Kurt, he looked a little worried. “Is that all right with you? Or do you want me to take you home? It's kind of early yet, but I will if you want.”
“No, it's fine,” Kurt hastened to tell him. “Please, I'd...I'd rather stay with you. I can help keep Quinn awake until she sobers up. Besides, my dad pretty much wants me to stay out late, I can't go home now.”
Blaine smiled gratefully at him before turning his attention to Jeff, who was opening the front door for them. “Jeff? You want to come along?”
“Nah, I'll go home. Enough craziness for one night.” He shifted Quinn's guitar case to his other hand. “Skate park tomorrow?”
“Maybe. Depends on stuff.” Blaine slid an opaque glance at Kurt, who wondered what it meant as they walked the blocks to Blaine's car in silence. “Oop, okay, here we are. Down you go, Quincy.” He carefully lowered her to the ground, propping her against the Volvo while he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Um, Kurt? Can you sit in back with her, please? I'd do it myself, but I don't know if you can drive stick.”
“No, that's fine.” Kurt nodded, reaching out to help the limp girl into the back seat while Jeff loaded the guitar into the back of the wagon. “Hey, Quinn,” he murmured into her ear, settling her under his arm.
“Hey, Kurt.” She smiled faintly up at him, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “You smell really nice.”
“I would like to say the same to you, I really would,” he replied dryly, with a playful tap on her nose, “I'm sorry, Quinn, you smell a little homeless.”
“King of Tact as always, Kurt,” she mumbled back, but she was still smiling. “Listen, 'm sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “That's fine. I didn't take it too personally.”
“And 'm sorry for crashing your date with Blaine.”
Kurt looked up to meet Blaine's eyes in the rearview mirror. They exchanged rueful grins. “Don't worry about it. That's why there's the option of second dates.”
“Good. Give 'im another chance.” She snuggled down into his arms. “Meant it when I said I'd hunt you down though.”
“I know you did,” he replied, shaking his head and mouthing later at Blaine's silent what? in the mirror.
“'Cause he's great, you know. I'm an okay person. But he's a great person. So treat 'im like he's great.”
Kurt couldn't hide his chortling at Blaine's face, which was once again burning fire engine red in the glow of the streetlights. “I'll do my best.” Taking pity on his date, he decided to divert Quinn's attention and put Blaine out of his embarrassed misery. “Let's sing, Quinn. We can entertain Blaine while he drives us around. Remember this one? I've had the time of my life...”
“An' I've never felt this way before,” Quinn burbled, blinking as she tried to remember the words. “Yes I swear...it's the truth...”
“And I owe it all to you,” they finished together, making Blaine laughed as he steered them onto the main highway that would take them out of Lima and into Columbus.
It was about two hours to Columbus and another two back again, and they went through song after song, all of them songs they'd performed with the Glee Club when Quinn was still a part of it. Blaine was able to join in on a number of songs with a surprisingly good voice that made Kurt want to sing with him another time, while they were alone. They sang until they simply couldn't anymore, and then Blaine handed the CD player and wallet of discs back over the seat so that Kurt and Quinn could have friendly squabbles over what to listen to next, occasionally piping in with his own choices.
It was a little after two AM when they finally swung into Columbus, circled the Ohio Statehouse, stopped to grab a pancake breakfast at a diner, and headed back home, arriving in Lima just as the first streaks of pink sunrise began to shoot across the dusky blue sky.
After drinking just about a full pot of straight black coffee all by herself, Quinn was finally sober, wide awake and ready to go home. “And we are not telling my mother what happened,” she warned as she climbed out of the car, circling to the back to grab her guitar. “She'll only worry and tell me that she told me so, so don't even think about it.”
Blaine hugged her tight before popping the back hatch open. “Not a word,” he promised. “You sure you're okay?”
“I won't sleep for a week, but other than that, I'm as okay as I'm going to get,” she shrugged, yanking the guitar case out and balancing it at her side. “I'll live.”
“Try not to sound so excited.” Blaine stuck his tongue out at her and gave her a shoulder bump that she returned with a snort. To Kurt's surprise, she turned to him then and squeezed him in a quick hug.
“Thanks again, and remember what I told you,” she whispered, a ghost of the old Quinn he used to know peeking out before she scooped her guitar up and hugged it to her chest. “Okay, so, bye.”
“Bye,” they chorused as she vanished into the house. Blaine's pager chose to go off then, and he glanced down at it in confusion that gave way to mild embarrassment. “Oh. Connie. God, I probably should have called her before we left town, in all the confusion I didn't think.” He looked at Kurt, a hopeful smile on his face. “Do you mind if we go to the 7-11 near your place so I can call her?”
“Not at all.” Kurt tipped his shoulder up in a shrug, hoping that the look he was shooting Blaine was coming across as playful or flirtatious. Judging from the way the other boy returned his smile bashfully, he guessed it was. Good. “After all the coffee we made Quinn drink, it occurs to me that I didn't get any at all, and I could use some right about now.”
“It's a plan, then.” They climbed back into the car for the short drive to the convenience store. “Your dad didn't page me all night after I told him he could if he needed you,” Blaine mused, sounding a little surprised. “I checked. He must really trust you.”
“I've never given him a reason not to,” Kurt responded, wondering if that was a bad thing. “Doesn't your sister trust you?”
“Sure. She just worries because my parents put her in charge of me until graduation. I don't think she was ready to parent a teenager at the age of 25.” Blaine's smile as he pulled into a parking space was rueful. “I've tried to make it easy on her, though. As best I can.”
“She only paged the once, not a thousand times checking up on you. You must be doing an okay job.” Kurt reminded him, climbing out of the car and heading into the store. “I'll be right back out. Hey, we can walk back to my dad's place from here.”
“Great.” Blaine beamed and disappeared towards the pay phones around the corner. Kurt wandered into the store and took his time assembling a coffee for himself. He thought about getting one for his date, but remembered what the boy had said when Kurt was eavesdropping. He opted for a bottle of water instead, strolling outside to meet Blaine just as he came back from the pay phones.
“She just wanted to make sure we were having fun,” Blaine reported as he took the water with a grateful smile. “Hey, thanks for this. You didn't have to.”
“I overheard you telling my father you don't drink caffeine or anything,” Kurt explained awkwardly. “And I wanted to get you something for taking me out tonight. Last night.”
“A date with me is worth a bottle of water?” Eyebrows raised, Blaine grinned at Kurt's blush as he cracked open the bottle. “I'll have to keep that in mind next time I'm thirsty.”
“No! I mean, oh...” It seemed like one or the other of them had been in a perpetual state of blushing the entire night. And yet, somehow, Kurt didn't mind. Between all the moments of awkwardness and drama were other moments that had been nothing short of exactly right. “Never mind the water. Thank you for a great evening.”
“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. Maybe next time we can make it a standard date. You and me.” He grabbed Kurt's arm, pulling him aside. “Watch out, broken glass.” He kicked the shattered bottle on the pavement out of their way.
Kurt laughed, though he felt a little frisson of warmth in his chest at both Blaine's touch and actions. It was a bit of a fight to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. “I'm wearing Docs, you're in canvas shoes,” he pointed out in as light a tone as he could manage. “I think it would have done more damage to you.”
“Maybe, but it didn't.” Blaine's grin was bright and infectious, his energy unbelievable after the events of the last day. He hopped up on a brick retaining wall lining someone's front lawn. “You really had fun, though? Do you want to do it again?”
“I don't know...yes,” Kurt decided, toying with his coffee cup. “But I only have something like sixteen weeks before I leave for London, and so much to do. I don't know when I'd have the time.”
“Sixteen weeks is a long time. I'm flexible. Just think about it, I'll be here when you have a minute or two.” Blaine tilted his head and grinned, spinning to walk backwards on the wall for a few steps.
Kurt felt dismay overtake him. “I can't ask you to do that. To just wait around for me to have time to spend with you. I'm not worth that kind of effort!”
“Hi, have you met you?” Blaine bounced down off of the wall to stand in front of Kurt. “Class valedictorian, best dressed kid in school, fellowship student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts? Killer singer, too, from what I heard in the car. And...” He took a deep breath, staring down at his feet. “And this great looking guy who took a chance on a date with a guy like me. Yeah, Kurt.” Another deep breath and he was looking straight into Kurt's eyes, that unreadable emotion back and just as indecipherable to Kurt as before. “Yeah, you're absolutely worth that kind of effort. You don't have to ask for it. I'm willing to give it.”
The declaration took Kurt's breath away. It was several long moments of Blaine's steady gaze on him before he could find the words to respond. “I don't even know what to say to that. Thank you seems so inadequate.”
“You don't have to say anything.” They started walking again, Blaine falling into step at his side after he chucked his empty water bottle into a neighbor's garbage bin. “All you have to do is agree to go out with me again. And for that, a simple nod will do just fine.”
How could Blaine be so good at making him laugh so much? Kurt's face almost hurt from how often it had stretched into a smile or a laugh over the last several hours. “You never really give up, do you?”
“You haven't really given me a reason to.” Blaine winked at Kurt before circling around in front of him to walk backwards, obviously waiting for an answer. “So?”
He gave in, not unhappy to do so at all. “Okay. All right. We'll go out again. I don't know when,” he cautioned, holding his hand up to stave off Blaine's excitement. “But we will. I...yes. I would very much like to see you again.” He took a long sip of his coffee, grimacing at how he'd let it go cold. “I haven't really gone out much. You probably know that. And I've never gone out with anyone as basic as you.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kurt wanted to kick himself. Even more inexplicable than Blaine's consistent ability to make him laugh was his newly developed and wholly unwelcome aptitude for sticking his foot directly into his mouth. Blaine, though, didn't seem to mind, only grinning. “Basic, huh? Works for me. I like to think I'm a pretty uncomplicated guy.”
“Uncomplicated would have been a nicer way to put it, yes,” Kurt grumbled, annoyed at himself. Fortunately, he was saved from further embarrassment by their arrival at his home. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” Blaine agreed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “And, Kurt, thank you again for coming to the party with me. I had a fantastic time, and I can't wait to see you again.” He seemed to be waiting for a cue as to what to do next, sending Kurt back into a mild panic.
He didn't feel ready to kiss Blaine - not after a first date. And hugging felt too...friendlike. Which Kurt by now was decidedly not feeling towards the other boy. Walking into his house with just a wave and a farewell as Quinn had wasn't right, either.
In the end, Kurt reached out and tugged one of Blaine's hands out, squeezing it as he forced himself to smile into his eyes. It amazed him how simply the touch of their fingers and hands could feel so intimate - but it wasn't a bad thing. On the contrary, now he was faced with the dilemma of never wanting to let go.
“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling a little unsteady, happy and puzzled and eager all at once. “I'll call you tomorrow.”
“Today is tomorrow,” Blaine replied smartly, but his own voice wasn't without a slight tremor at their prolonged contact. Kurt smiled and felt a little more centered at this equality between them, the evidence that Blaine's self-assurance wasn't at all infallible.
“Then I'll call you today.” Reluctantly pulling his hand free, Kurt darted away and into the house, running smack into his father as Burt emerged from the kitchen with that morning's paper.
“Kurt! Did ya have fun?” Burt looked his son over carefully, apparently satisfied that Kurt seemed largely unruffled and was even smiling. “You got a feather in the back of your hair.”
He fished his fingers through and pulled the fluff out, tossing it aside and not even caring that his hair was now undeniably a mess. “I did. I had a great time with Blaine. He's amazing.” Kurt knew his grin was far too wide and verging on manic - and then he remembered what he'd said. “Except that I called him 'basic' for some completely stupid reason,” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.
But Burt wasn't really paying attention, his focus snagged by something happening outside the front window. He took Kurt's arm and guided him over to look. “I don't think he's really feelin' too bad about it,” he informed his son dryly.
Indeed, Blaine was literally dancing in the street as he headed back to the 7-11 for his car, bouncing on and off of retaining walls, spinning and sliding his way down the road. Yet again, Kurt found himself laughing helplessly, his infatuation with Blaine already completely out of control. And he didn't care. Blaine was everything he wasn't and everything he never knew he wanted to have around.
He couldn't wait for their next date, either.
...Chapter Five...
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade (GlassParade)
Rating: PG-13 to mild R in the future.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, reference to past Quinn/Finn and current Rachel/Finn
Genre: Romance, AU, Movie Adaptations
Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide.
Spoilers: While events and references from all three seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Currently 18,000+
Summary: Blaine Anderson is the easy going skateboarding slacker who's carried a torch for sheltered class Valedictorian Kurt Hummel for the last year. On the day they graduate from high school, he decides to do something about it. There's no way they should work. Everything will conspire against them. Can this unlikely pairing prevail?
Additional Notes: gameboycolor and naderegen wanted 90's Klaine. I suggested updating Cameron Crowe's iconic movie "Say Anything" to 1998 and making Blaine and Kurt into an analogue of Lloyd and Diane's star-crossed romance. This very loose adaptation, for better or for worse, is the result. Title is from the song "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket.
Apologies, but AO3 posting for this story has been suspended for now! They're having issues with their latest release that are making it impossible for me to post there.
“Excuse me. I want my keys.” Rachel's strident, teary voice broke the tension stretched between them, bringing them back to reality - or as close to it as they could manage, now. They turned to face her as one, a frown furrowing Blaine's brow as he took in her red, swollen eyes and tearstreaked cheeks. He reached out a hand to tip her chin up so he could look more closely.
“Are you okay to drive?” Blaine asked, leaning in to check her eyes. Kurt wondered as well. She looked generally sober, but also deeply, terribly upset. He'd only seen her three hours ago, what could have happened?
Rachel swatted Blaine's hand away from her face. “I'm fine,” she snapped, her voice cracking a little. “I only had a taste of that awful punch Puck made and I hated it, so I've been drinking Diet Coke all night. Not like stupid Finn with his stupid Zimas.” At Blaine's dubious look, she stepped back and lifted up one foot, balancing on it while she touched her nose with alternating hands and reciting the alphabet backwards. “See? Sober. Give me my keys, Blaine.”
But Blaine was frowning even harder and looking around the back yard. “Rachel,” he began, digging her keys out of the bag and holding them just out of her reach. “What's going on with Finn?”
She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve until Kurt took horrified pity on her and extracted a handkerchief from his vest pocket for her to use. “Nothing anymore,” she hiccupped with a noisy accompanying blow of her nose. “We are absolutely and completely done.” She tried to hand the used handkerchief back to Kurt, who recoiled. Gross.
Finn, now back in his normal clothing, stumbled out of the back door, Puck in hot pursuit. “Rach, I'm sorry!” He made a beeline for where she stood, bellowing apologies as he went.
But Rachel was having none of it. While Blaine was distracted by Finn's drunken shouting, she bounced up and snatched her keys out of his hand. With a defiant toss of her hair, she stormed off. “Keep away from me, Finn!”
“But baby!”
“Just get away!” she shrieked, heading through the back gate to get to her car. Blaine looked even more unhappy as he watched her go.
“I've got a bad feeling about this,” he began, only to be interrupted as Mike Chang tackled him for the second time that evening. “Ow! Jesus, Mike! You can just hug me if you're so excited to see me, you know!”
“Dude,” Mike howled. “Gimme my Firebird keys!”
“Ha ha! No.” Blaine shoved Mike off with a laugh, getting to his feet before helping the drunken Chang - now even more thoroughly trashed than he'd been earlier - to stand wobbly, but upright. “You must chill. I totally hid your keys.”
“Dude!” Mike was pouting, but Blaine shook his head and just hugged him.
“No way. Go sleep it off.”
“What for? I'm buzzed!” With a lurch, Mike pulled away, spun on his heel - and went down like a ton of the world's happiest bricks, snoring as soon as he hit the ground. The three other boys just blinked down at him in bemusement.
Blaine looked up first, catching Kurt's eye. “We'd better go look for Quinn. I don't like what's going on with Finn and Rachel, it always involves her somehow when they get like this.”
“I'm right here.” Quinn's voice was soft and blurred as she stood in the yard swaying gently, eyes unfocused and arms wrapped around her waist. Jeff stood behind her with her guitar case clutched in one hand, the other on her elbow to keep her up. He looked deeply unhappy.
“Quinn.” Blaine thrust the bag of keys at Puck and moved to grab his friend, pulling her into his arms just as her knees seemed to give out. “Quincy, no, what happened?”
“Finn said he had to go piss,” Puck volunteered, appearing severely uncomfortable. Kurt understood why with his next words. “I let him go by himself. Don't look at me like that!” He held his hands up defensively, backing away from a furious Jeff and Blaine. “I didn't think he could get in trouble just going to the john!”
“Unfortunately,” Jeff bit out, glaring at Puck, “That's about when Quinn decided she needed to go. They ran into each other when she was coming out.” He reached out to rub a hand on Quinn's back. “Finn begged her to talk to him, apparently, and it didn't go well.”
"He said he was breaking up with Rachel since she's going to NYADA and he's staying in Ohio," Quinn whispered in a voice so broken it hurt Kurt to hear it. "Then he asked me to sleep with him."
Blaine's jaw went tight and he hugged her closer. "Damn it. He would never have pulled that sober. What the hell, Puck, how could you take your eyes off of him?"
"Whoa, I'm not walking him into the bathroom and holding his junk while he takes a leak," Puck protested. "I'm sorry this happened, but my babysitting is not full service, dude. I got a party to run, I have to make sure people don't trash my mom's house." He lit a cigarette and glared at Blaine. "How come you weren't at her side to keep Finn away from her?"
It obviously pained Blaine to acknowledge that Puck was right, but he did so anyway, nodding tersely. "Fair enough, Puck, I'm sor -" He broke off and sniffed at the air. "Quinn. You smell like tequila. Like a lot of tequila."
"Santana Lopez pretty much poured half a bottle down her throat when she saw what was going on," Jeff explained, shaking his head. "Then she brought her back to me and said she was my problem."
"Shit. She's not supposed to drink while she's on Prozac." Slightly panicked, Blaine pushed Quinn back, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders as he scanned her face. Kurt could see that her eyes were half closed and her head lolled a little too loosely for his comfort. "Quinn. Come on, Quincy. When did you last take your Prozac?"
"After lunch," she mumbled, and Blaine heaved a sigh of clear relief before pulling her back into an embrace. "I'm fine. Sleepy, though."
"No kidding." He scooped her up in his arms. "Puck, sorry, you're on your own as Keymaster. I'm getting her out of here. Jeff, Kurt, give me a hand getting her into my car?"
“Don't wanna go home,” Quinn muttered as they made their way through the house, looping her arms around Blaine's neck.
“Don't worry, I'm not taking you home yet,” he assured her. “We'll drive around a while, okay?” Glancing over at Kurt, he looked a little worried. “Is that all right with you? Or do you want me to take you home? It's kind of early yet, but I will if you want.”
“No, it's fine,” Kurt hastened to tell him. “Please, I'd...I'd rather stay with you. I can help keep Quinn awake until she sobers up. Besides, my dad pretty much wants me to stay out late, I can't go home now.”
Blaine smiled gratefully at him before turning his attention to Jeff, who was opening the front door for them. “Jeff? You want to come along?”
“Nah, I'll go home. Enough craziness for one night.” He shifted Quinn's guitar case to his other hand. “Skate park tomorrow?”
“Maybe. Depends on stuff.” Blaine slid an opaque glance at Kurt, who wondered what it meant as they walked the blocks to Blaine's car in silence. “Oop, okay, here we are. Down you go, Quincy.” He carefully lowered her to the ground, propping her against the Volvo while he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Um, Kurt? Can you sit in back with her, please? I'd do it myself, but I don't know if you can drive stick.”
“No, that's fine.” Kurt nodded, reaching out to help the limp girl into the back seat while Jeff loaded the guitar into the back of the wagon. “Hey, Quinn,” he murmured into her ear, settling her under his arm.
“Hey, Kurt.” She smiled faintly up at him, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “You smell really nice.”
“I would like to say the same to you, I really would,” he replied dryly, with a playful tap on her nose, “I'm sorry, Quinn, you smell a little homeless.”
“King of Tact as always, Kurt,” she mumbled back, but she was still smiling. “Listen, 'm sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “That's fine. I didn't take it too personally.”
“And 'm sorry for crashing your date with Blaine.”
Kurt looked up to meet Blaine's eyes in the rearview mirror. They exchanged rueful grins. “Don't worry about it. That's why there's the option of second dates.”
“Good. Give 'im another chance.” She snuggled down into his arms. “Meant it when I said I'd hunt you down though.”
“I know you did,” he replied, shaking his head and mouthing later at Blaine's silent what? in the mirror.
“'Cause he's great, you know. I'm an okay person. But he's a great person. So treat 'im like he's great.”
Kurt couldn't hide his chortling at Blaine's face, which was once again burning fire engine red in the glow of the streetlights. “I'll do my best.” Taking pity on his date, he decided to divert Quinn's attention and put Blaine out of his embarrassed misery. “Let's sing, Quinn. We can entertain Blaine while he drives us around. Remember this one? I've had the time of my life...”
“An' I've never felt this way before,” Quinn burbled, blinking as she tried to remember the words. “Yes I swear...it's the truth...”
“And I owe it all to you,” they finished together, making Blaine laughed as he steered them onto the main highway that would take them out of Lima and into Columbus.
It was about two hours to Columbus and another two back again, and they went through song after song, all of them songs they'd performed with the Glee Club when Quinn was still a part of it. Blaine was able to join in on a number of songs with a surprisingly good voice that made Kurt want to sing with him another time, while they were alone. They sang until they simply couldn't anymore, and then Blaine handed the CD player and wallet of discs back over the seat so that Kurt and Quinn could have friendly squabbles over what to listen to next, occasionally piping in with his own choices.
It was a little after two AM when they finally swung into Columbus, circled the Ohio Statehouse, stopped to grab a pancake breakfast at a diner, and headed back home, arriving in Lima just as the first streaks of pink sunrise began to shoot across the dusky blue sky.
After drinking just about a full pot of straight black coffee all by herself, Quinn was finally sober, wide awake and ready to go home. “And we are not telling my mother what happened,” she warned as she climbed out of the car, circling to the back to grab her guitar. “She'll only worry and tell me that she told me so, so don't even think about it.”
Blaine hugged her tight before popping the back hatch open. “Not a word,” he promised. “You sure you're okay?”
“I won't sleep for a week, but other than that, I'm as okay as I'm going to get,” she shrugged, yanking the guitar case out and balancing it at her side. “I'll live.”
“Try not to sound so excited.” Blaine stuck his tongue out at her and gave her a shoulder bump that she returned with a snort. To Kurt's surprise, she turned to him then and squeezed him in a quick hug.
“Thanks again, and remember what I told you,” she whispered, a ghost of the old Quinn he used to know peeking out before she scooped her guitar up and hugged it to her chest. “Okay, so, bye.”
“Bye,” they chorused as she vanished into the house. Blaine's pager chose to go off then, and he glanced down at it in confusion that gave way to mild embarrassment. “Oh. Connie. God, I probably should have called her before we left town, in all the confusion I didn't think.” He looked at Kurt, a hopeful smile on his face. “Do you mind if we go to the 7-11 near your place so I can call her?”
“Not at all.” Kurt tipped his shoulder up in a shrug, hoping that the look he was shooting Blaine was coming across as playful or flirtatious. Judging from the way the other boy returned his smile bashfully, he guessed it was. Good. “After all the coffee we made Quinn drink, it occurs to me that I didn't get any at all, and I could use some right about now.”
“It's a plan, then.” They climbed back into the car for the short drive to the convenience store. “Your dad didn't page me all night after I told him he could if he needed you,” Blaine mused, sounding a little surprised. “I checked. He must really trust you.”
“I've never given him a reason not to,” Kurt responded, wondering if that was a bad thing. “Doesn't your sister trust you?”
“Sure. She just worries because my parents put her in charge of me until graduation. I don't think she was ready to parent a teenager at the age of 25.” Blaine's smile as he pulled into a parking space was rueful. “I've tried to make it easy on her, though. As best I can.”
“She only paged the once, not a thousand times checking up on you. You must be doing an okay job.” Kurt reminded him, climbing out of the car and heading into the store. “I'll be right back out. Hey, we can walk back to my dad's place from here.”
“Great.” Blaine beamed and disappeared towards the pay phones around the corner. Kurt wandered into the store and took his time assembling a coffee for himself. He thought about getting one for his date, but remembered what the boy had said when Kurt was eavesdropping. He opted for a bottle of water instead, strolling outside to meet Blaine just as he came back from the pay phones.
“She just wanted to make sure we were having fun,” Blaine reported as he took the water with a grateful smile. “Hey, thanks for this. You didn't have to.”
“I overheard you telling my father you don't drink caffeine or anything,” Kurt explained awkwardly. “And I wanted to get you something for taking me out tonight. Last night.”
“A date with me is worth a bottle of water?” Eyebrows raised, Blaine grinned at Kurt's blush as he cracked open the bottle. “I'll have to keep that in mind next time I'm thirsty.”
“No! I mean, oh...” It seemed like one or the other of them had been in a perpetual state of blushing the entire night. And yet, somehow, Kurt didn't mind. Between all the moments of awkwardness and drama were other moments that had been nothing short of exactly right. “Never mind the water. Thank you for a great evening.”
“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. Maybe next time we can make it a standard date. You and me.” He grabbed Kurt's arm, pulling him aside. “Watch out, broken glass.” He kicked the shattered bottle on the pavement out of their way.
Kurt laughed, though he felt a little frisson of warmth in his chest at both Blaine's touch and actions. It was a bit of a fight to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. “I'm wearing Docs, you're in canvas shoes,” he pointed out in as light a tone as he could manage. “I think it would have done more damage to you.”
“Maybe, but it didn't.” Blaine's grin was bright and infectious, his energy unbelievable after the events of the last day. He hopped up on a brick retaining wall lining someone's front lawn. “You really had fun, though? Do you want to do it again?”
“I don't know...yes,” Kurt decided, toying with his coffee cup. “But I only have something like sixteen weeks before I leave for London, and so much to do. I don't know when I'd have the time.”
“Sixteen weeks is a long time. I'm flexible. Just think about it, I'll be here when you have a minute or two.” Blaine tilted his head and grinned, spinning to walk backwards on the wall for a few steps.
Kurt felt dismay overtake him. “I can't ask you to do that. To just wait around for me to have time to spend with you. I'm not worth that kind of effort!”
“Hi, have you met you?” Blaine bounced down off of the wall to stand in front of Kurt. “Class valedictorian, best dressed kid in school, fellowship student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts? Killer singer, too, from what I heard in the car. And...” He took a deep breath, staring down at his feet. “And this great looking guy who took a chance on a date with a guy like me. Yeah, Kurt.” Another deep breath and he was looking straight into Kurt's eyes, that unreadable emotion back and just as indecipherable to Kurt as before. “Yeah, you're absolutely worth that kind of effort. You don't have to ask for it. I'm willing to give it.”
The declaration took Kurt's breath away. It was several long moments of Blaine's steady gaze on him before he could find the words to respond. “I don't even know what to say to that. Thank you seems so inadequate.”
“You don't have to say anything.” They started walking again, Blaine falling into step at his side after he chucked his empty water bottle into a neighbor's garbage bin. “All you have to do is agree to go out with me again. And for that, a simple nod will do just fine.”
How could Blaine be so good at making him laugh so much? Kurt's face almost hurt from how often it had stretched into a smile or a laugh over the last several hours. “You never really give up, do you?”
“You haven't really given me a reason to.” Blaine winked at Kurt before circling around in front of him to walk backwards, obviously waiting for an answer. “So?”
He gave in, not unhappy to do so at all. “Okay. All right. We'll go out again. I don't know when,” he cautioned, holding his hand up to stave off Blaine's excitement. “But we will. I...yes. I would very much like to see you again.” He took a long sip of his coffee, grimacing at how he'd let it go cold. “I haven't really gone out much. You probably know that. And I've never gone out with anyone as basic as you.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kurt wanted to kick himself. Even more inexplicable than Blaine's consistent ability to make him laugh was his newly developed and wholly unwelcome aptitude for sticking his foot directly into his mouth. Blaine, though, didn't seem to mind, only grinning. “Basic, huh? Works for me. I like to think I'm a pretty uncomplicated guy.”
“Uncomplicated would have been a nicer way to put it, yes,” Kurt grumbled, annoyed at himself. Fortunately, he was saved from further embarrassment by their arrival at his home. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” Blaine agreed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “And, Kurt, thank you again for coming to the party with me. I had a fantastic time, and I can't wait to see you again.” He seemed to be waiting for a cue as to what to do next, sending Kurt back into a mild panic.
He didn't feel ready to kiss Blaine - not after a first date. And hugging felt too...friendlike. Which Kurt by now was decidedly not feeling towards the other boy. Walking into his house with just a wave and a farewell as Quinn had wasn't right, either.
In the end, Kurt reached out and tugged one of Blaine's hands out, squeezing it as he forced himself to smile into his eyes. It amazed him how simply the touch of their fingers and hands could feel so intimate - but it wasn't a bad thing. On the contrary, now he was faced with the dilemma of never wanting to let go.
“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling a little unsteady, happy and puzzled and eager all at once. “I'll call you tomorrow.”
“Today is tomorrow,” Blaine replied smartly, but his own voice wasn't without a slight tremor at their prolonged contact. Kurt smiled and felt a little more centered at this equality between them, the evidence that Blaine's self-assurance wasn't at all infallible.
“Then I'll call you today.” Reluctantly pulling his hand free, Kurt darted away and into the house, running smack into his father as Burt emerged from the kitchen with that morning's paper.
“Kurt! Did ya have fun?” Burt looked his son over carefully, apparently satisfied that Kurt seemed largely unruffled and was even smiling. “You got a feather in the back of your hair.”
He fished his fingers through and pulled the fluff out, tossing it aside and not even caring that his hair was now undeniably a mess. “I did. I had a great time with Blaine. He's amazing.” Kurt knew his grin was far too wide and verging on manic - and then he remembered what he'd said. “Except that I called him 'basic' for some completely stupid reason,” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.
But Burt wasn't really paying attention, his focus snagged by something happening outside the front window. He took Kurt's arm and guided him over to look. “I don't think he's really feelin' too bad about it,” he informed his son dryly.
Indeed, Blaine was literally dancing in the street as he headed back to the 7-11 for his car, bouncing on and off of retaining walls, spinning and sliding his way down the road. Yet again, Kurt found himself laughing helplessly, his infatuation with Blaine already completely out of control. And he didn't care. Blaine was everything he wasn't and everything he never knew he wanted to have around.
He couldn't wait for their next date, either.
...Chapter Five...