Prompt Post #11
PART ELEVEN IS NOW CLOSED
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Pairing - [Spoilers if any] - kinks or [FILL], in reply to a prompt
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
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“I’m not lonely,” Kurt says, though his quavering voice reveals his lie. “I have tons of friends.”
“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just… I’m really glad you came,” Blaine says, giving Kurt a little smile before moving to walk away. Without really thinking about it, Kurt reaches out and grabs onto Blaine’s arm, his fingertips gripping into his--oh god, so so soft--skin and holding him still.
“How do you do it?” he asks.
“How do I do what?” Blaine asks back, both eyebrows raising as he looks curiously down at Kurt’s hand which is still closed just above his elbow. Kurt’s eyes widen and he drops his hand, his palm immediately mourning the loss of Blaine’s warm skin against it.
“How do you… not care? I mean, how do you put up with the bullying and the teasing and just be… yourself?” Blaine’s face softens.
“I don’t know how to do anything else,” he says with a shrug. Kurt blinks back the tears he wasn't aware had flooded his eyes and nods. He wants to tell Blaine everything and he’s not exactly sure why. It has to be something about his eyes. Honestly, Kurt’s having kind of a hard time actually bringing them into focus at the moment, but he still knows they’re stunning.
His head feels heavy, his face feels numb, but for as much as he wants to talk to Blaine, the only other person in the school who could even possibly begin to understand what Kurt’s gone through, he wants to do something else more.
“Blaine,” he starts, taking a half step forward. Distantly, he realizes that he’s very much in Blaine’s personal space. He smells amazing, like cologne and boy, and Kurt swears that he can feel heat radiating off of Blaine’s bare skin. All he wants to do is touch, but he can't. He shouldn't. “Do you know why Puck invited me tonight?”
“No, but when he told us that he had, I was excited. I’m not going to lie.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to get to know you better.”
“Oh?”
“I knew that if Puck invited you to hang out with us, there’s no way you could be as much of an asshole as you want everyone to think you are,” Blaine says, not backing down at all as he speaks to Kurt. “I just… we could be friends, you know. Or at least be there for each other.”
It’s so warm in the hall. Kurt can feel his whole body on the verge of breaking out in a sweat, his grip on the bottle slick from his damp palm. Everything’s feeling like too much-Blaine’s words, the intensity of his drunk, the pressure of everything compressing around him.
“I have plenty of friends,” Kurt says instinctively, the kind of thing he always says in response to something like that, but his tone is soft and his eyes are watery. Why did he have to drink so much? He could still be downstairs leering discreetly at the game of Strip Poker, not standing here on the verge of tears.
“You can always have more friends,” Blaine replies. “Especially one who really gets it. But we don’t have to be. I know that we don't know each other, but the offer’s always here if you need someone to talk to or-“
Every word he’s saying is… perfect. Blaine’s not being pushy. He’s not being a jerk. He’s not being anything other than himself and god, Kurt’s starting to think that being Blaine Anderson might not be so bad after all. Before he can finish that sentence, Kurt feels the desperate need to silence him lest he either say the wrong thing and ruin everything or keep going on so wonderfully and reduce Kurt into a sobbing heap on the hallway floor.
Over the last few years, Kurt’s perfected many ways to shut people up. There are bitch faces and glares and raised eyebrows, but none of those are right for this moment. Instead of over-thinking it, he allows his body to react on instinct. In an instant, the bottle’s dropping to the floor and his lips are against Blaine’s, sucking the gasp from his mouth and again latching onto his arms.
It might not have been the most logical way to make Blaine stop talking, but from the way he’s kissing back, it doesn’t seem that he minds all that much.
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