The Third Prompt Meme Post

[tamzinrose]

Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer.

If a thread concerns you, please contact the moderators first before commenting as this helps to keep the self-moderation and potentiality of wank

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[anonymous]

The salad was horrible. There was no other word for it. Kurt scrunched up his nose, poking the vegetables drenched in cream-based dressing. He couldn’t even imagine what it would do to his skin if he so much as touched the monstrosity.

“No, Finn, I already told you”, Kurt said, a snappy tone to his voice. “I - will - not - touch - this.”
“But it’s good!” the taller teen exclaimed, reaching across the table to pierce a piece of chicken with his fork. Artie yelped.
“Hey!”
“Taste is inferior to healthiness. Don’t expect to see me crying on your grave when your clogged up blood vessels go and burst.”

The teens sitting around the large table roared, laughing. Kurt sat between Sam and Mike, trying his best to keep from hitting the two with his elbows every time someone moved. Six teenage boys didn’t fit around one booth that easily, especially when one of them was in a wheelchair.

Boys’ night out, Puck had grinned, holding the door open as Finn carried Kurt out of the Hummel-Hudson house. No girls, no relationship shit, only boys and food and games.

Apparently ‘food’ meant Breadstix.

Kurt had no complaints, though. The guys were nice and as much as he loved spa dates with the girls, there were times when all he wanted was a male friend who didn’t think the only thing he could do was sing and be pretty. Like Artie. Artie was a good friend.

“So, anyways”, Finn rambled on. “I was thinking--”
“Wait, you can actually do that?”
“--shut up, Evans - anyways, uh… damn.”

Normally Kurt would have raised an eyebrow and laughed at the fact that yes, Finn did forget what he was talking about, but this wasn’t that kind of a damn. It was the kind that meant that something bad had happened. Both Finn and Puck were staring over his shoulder, glaring at something behind him.

He had turned around before any of them had the change to stop him.

“Well, well… Didn’t think I’d actually see you again after your flight, babe.”

Blaine.

Blaine was standing there, smirking, still in his Dalton uniform, his hands stuffed into pockets in a manner that radiated confidence like Lady GaGa radiated fabulousness. He shouldn’t have been there, Kurt though, panic settling in; this was Lima. Lima was supposed to be a Blaine-free zone.

Apparently it wasn’t.

“Get the fuck outta here, Anderson”, Finn growled.
“Why should I? I mean, I came here to eat”, Blaine chuckled, giving Kurt a very long once-over. “This is a public place.” He sounded nonchalant but when he laughed, Kurt flinched and inched closer to Sam. “Babe, please tell your boyfriends to back off. I’m not breaking any laws by speaking to you… Though the same cannot be said about them. Verbal assault is an punishable act, mind you.”

People were staring at them. When Finn started yelling, unoriginal curses and taunts spilling from his lips, Kurt wanted nothing more to disappear from the restaurant.

“Let’s go elsewhere”, he muttered against Sam’s shirt, looking up pleadingly. “Please, please, let’s just leave.”
“Okay. Hey, guys, we’re going now.”

Finn paid Sam no mind.

“Guys”, Mike tried. He stood up and stepped to the side so Kurt could move. “Seriously, he’s not worth it. Just shut the fuck up, both of you.”

Kurt didn’t turn to look at Blaine when he slid out of the booth. The angry noises around him subdued, finally, but he could feel the stare on his back, burning hot, sending shivers up and down his spine.

He felt so dirty.