Glee Fic: And When You Get The Chance
Title: And When You Get The Chance
Characters/Pairings: Blaine/Kurt, Santana, Rachel (for five seconds), mentions of Santana/Brittany & pre-Sam/Mercedes
Rating: T/PG-13
Disclaimer: Title is derived from "Dancing Queen" by ABBA.
Summary: The morning after prom consists of Santana basically admitting that Blaine is her hero and Blaine basically confiding his fears in Santana.
And When You Get The Chance
It's the morning after prom and of course Blaine looks like a hot mess. Or at least he thinks he does. When he packed his overnight bag for Kurt's house, he stupidly forgot his hair gel (he blames on the justifiable nerves), so his hair now resembles that of a clown, as Finn cheerfully pointed out this morning.
And then Kurt consequently lashed out at him because apparently it's unacceptable to make that same, tasteless comparison twice (Blaine really doesn't remember Finn saying that at all during Rachel's party, but that's probably for the best).
But at least he smells like Kurt's shampoo and Kurt's taken a liking for gripping his hair while kissing, so Blaine can live with it.
Even so, it's now preventing him from leaving the car, which they've recently parked in the Breadstix parking lot.
"Come on Blaine, everyone is going to look way worse. Apparently they were out until three," Kurt scoffs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.
Easy for him to say: he looks put together and perfect (as usual).
"It's not even ten - how are they functioning?" Blaine groans because he's barely functioning. Weekends are sacred to him - he enjoys sleeping in and making up for the lack of hours during the week.
There's a loud succession of hits on the hood of Blaine's car, causing Kurt to freeze and gasp in a pained manner; he truly is a mechanic's son. They whip their heads to see Santana leaning towards them, her arms spread apart, needlessly revealing her ample cleavage.
Kurt steps out of the car. "Do you see what kind of car this is? You do not slap a BMW 3 Series. You caress it."
Okay, Kurt getting hot and bothered about the treatment of Blaine's car is getting Blaine all hot and bothered.
"Whatever." She pushes off the car. "You guys coming in? I need someone silently judging me from across the table so I know when to stop eating," Santana says with the perfect amount of veiled sarcasm, staring pointedly at Kurt.
"You haven't been a Cheerio in months and yet your figures are still perfect," Kurt sniffs with undisguised bitterness.
This is certainly not the first time when Blaine has really wanted to report Coach Sylvester for student harassment (pear hips? Really?). And the fact that Kurt waves it off every time just astounds him.
"Hi Santana!" Blaine chirps happily when he opens his door and steps out.
Santana takes one look at Blaine's head and starts laughing. "Nice 'fro."
He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest, looking very much like a child.
"Don't insult his hair. He's very sensitive about it," Kurt adds rather unnecessarily.
"I seem to recall your liking it twenty minutes ago," Blaine retorts, causing Kurt to flush brilliantly.
She cackles. "Nice, Blanderson."
"Good morning, guys! Come on, Kurt, you owe me a large waffle!" Rachel exclaims as she skips over to the group, practically coming out of nowhere (he's come to realize that this is her thing). Kurt visibly winces at her multicolor sweater, but Blaine thinks it's kind of cute. "Wasn't my dress fabulous? Come on…" she trails off, nudging Kurt.
He heaves a dramatic sigh and Blaine tries to hold back his laughter. "Yes, alright, fine. It was…nice."
Sometimes Blaine's boyfriend is quite the bitch.
"Oh, get off it. I looked awesome," she scoffs.
Blaine can see the fondness in Kurt's eyes; hates Rachel his ass.
"Where's Mercedes?" Kurt inquires.
"Oh, well, she and Sam are at his church so they'll be here later," she explains, an obvious spark in her eyes.
Kurt's face brightens twofold. "Really," he drawls, looping his arm through hers. "You'll have to explain this little development while I buy you those disgusting breakfast foods."
"Hey, don't hate on waffles. What have they ever done to you," Blaine says.
Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, deeming that statement unworthy of a response as he and Rachel walk toward the entrance of Breadstix.
"Wait…" Rachel stops, looking back at Santana and Blaine, confused as to why they're not following them in.
"Just let it go, Rachel," Kurt responds with a pat to her hand.
Kurt glances over his shoulder with a pained expression (wasn't he the one leading her in? So fickle.), but Santana and Blaine just wave at him innocently. Before Kurt walks inside, he brings his other hand behind his back and flips them off.
Blaine lets out a gut-busting laugh and Santana smirks with surprise and amusement.
He smiles at her. "Hi."
"Hey." She smiles back. "You didn't dance with me last night," she adds.
He sighs. "I know. I wanted to, but…with everything…"
He didn't think he could leave Kurt's side, even if he really wanted to, and if Kurt's hold on Blaine's arm for the rest of the night was of any consideration, Kurt couldn't either.
"Yeah."
The atmosphere suddenly feels too heavy, at least for the middle of the parking lot at Breadstix.
"Can we…?" she gestures to his car.
"Oh. Yeah, of course." He opens his door and gets back in the driver's seat while Santana slides into the passenger side.
As soon as she slams the door (he winces at that - there's no need to slam!), she states, "I was a dick last night."
He snorts.
"You were awesome," she adds, glancing at him.
He smiles a little. "Thanks. It was really all Kurt, though."
"No, it wasn't."
He doesn't want to argue with her, so he keeps his mouth closed.
She sighs. "I guess I just…the whole Bully Whips…" she shakes her head. "It really does nothing."
"That's not true," Blaine starts to say, but he doesn't go further than that; the Bully Whips are the only reason why Kurt is even back at McKinley - Blaine has to believe in it, otherwise he'll start worrying about Kurt even more than he already does (and he doesn't think that's possible).
"Everything just sucks," she finishes rather dramatically.
"Not everything," Blaine tries to reason, even though he doesn't know why. When Kurt gets in these kinds of moods he just lets them happen (it's best for his safety). "I had a good time otherwise. Same with Kurt."
Santana shakes her head, sniffling. "I was complaining about not winning. When you and Kurt ran out," she tells him, looking straight ahead through the windshield. "I was so fucking selfish."
Blaine rubs eyes with his hand. They're sixteen-going-on-seventeen: of course they're all selfish and don't think about the bigger picture until they're no longer in the middle of it; it's hard to step outside of themselves. But during the course of his relationship with Kurt, they've grown to realize that they're so much more than just Blaine And Kurt.
Is it possible to feel too young and too old for his age at the same time?
"And Brittany, of all people…" she trails off with a sharp laugh. She sniffles and exhales shakily, bringing a hand to her eyes to make sure there aren't any tears.
He gives her an understanding smile. While preparing for his number at prom, he grew really fond of Brittany; he likes that even though she can be a bit senseless, she's capable of being quite observant.
He can see why Santana loves her.
"I'm sorry you didn't win," he says. He doesn't have to mention that he didn't vote at all; he thought it was wrong since he doesn't even go there (and she'll avoid another Mean Girls reference).
She waves a flippant hand. "Over it."
There's probably more of a back-story to this, which he may hear about after more time has passed.
"So," she starts, changing the subject.
He's about to quip back with a "so," but instead, he ends up admitting, "I thought about bailing the night before." He exhales loudly, the weight slowly lifting from his shoulders. "I actually stared at Kurt's number in my phone for over an hour, ready to call him and tell him that I couldn't do it, that we should just see a movie instead of going to prom."
She shakes her head. "Why? What changed your mind?"
"Kurt's face when I agreed to go in the first place." He flushes, but focuses on her eyes.
Santana smiles a little. "If I were straight, I'd totes steal you from Hummel."
"Well, you are Andersexual. Even though that's equivalent to being asexual," he responds with a wink.
"…Maybe I was wrong about that after all."
Blaine suddenly feels like a dense moron - like he should've realized sooner that Santana, for pretty much the entire time they've been "friends," has been relatively open (in her own, subtle way, of course). And yet, despite his being slow on the uptake and masking every negative feeling that courses through his system (funny how Santana seems to the reverse)…
"The last time I attended a dance, I got the shit kicked out of me," Blaine divulges without much emotion. A rather anticlimactic way of revealing such a dark part of his past, but he doubts she'd value his trying to be cinematic.
She inhales sharply.
His eyes begin to well up and he's thinking of a way to kick her out of the car as politely as possible, but nothing is coming to mind. Why can't he bring himself to ever be rude?
"You actually swore," she points out, her voice wavering.
It takes him a second to absorb what she said before he chuckles. "My mom washed my mouth out with soap the first time I swore. Haven't really done it since." He shakes his head to clear his mind of the memory. "I really, really wanted to be proven wrong," he adds in a whisper.
He's more than surprised to feel her hand on top of his, squeezing a little harder than necessary, but he appreciates the gesture anyway.
"How you and Kurt can be so strong is just…" she murmurs.
"It's really all -"
"No. Shut up, Anderson," she interrupts him, freezing him with a determined glare, her hold on his hand bordering on painful. "Kurt was amazing, no question. But you were fucking brave to do what you did, okay?"
He feels like crying again, partially because he knows he doesn't deserve any praise and also because he's been a nervous wreck for the past twenty-four hours and it has taken its toll on him. Kurt has been through so, so much and it can't (shouldn't) be belittled, but he'll never know how badly Blaine's hands shook on the drive to Kurt's house or how little sleep he got during the week due to nightmares.
With Santana gazing into his eyes, it seems like she knows, or can at least recognize the bags under his eyes are more than just a product of one bad night's sleep.
He wants her to know that some girl, maybe not Brittany (even though he does hope it is because she balances Santana out so well), will appreciate her actions and bravery in her future. But she's not out yet and he's very aware that she can easily tear his arm out of its socket, so he lets it go for another day.
"Come on, let's go in. The least you can do for not dancing with me is to buy me food," she says, letting go of his hand.
He discreetly flexes his hand as he steps out of the car. They'll have to work on the (non-dirty) physical aspects of their friendship, but it's the least of their problems and something that will easily get better with time.
She links their arms together and they walk forward.
Characters/Pairings: Blaine/Kurt, Santana, Rachel (for five seconds), mentions of Santana/Brittany & pre-Sam/Mercedes
Rating: T/PG-13
Disclaimer: Title is derived from "Dancing Queen" by ABBA.
Summary: The morning after prom consists of Santana basically admitting that Blaine is her hero and Blaine basically confiding his fears in Santana.
And When You Get The Chance
It's the morning after prom and of course Blaine looks like a hot mess. Or at least he thinks he does. When he packed his overnight bag for Kurt's house, he stupidly forgot his hair gel (he blames on the justifiable nerves), so his hair now resembles that of a clown, as Finn cheerfully pointed out this morning.
And then Kurt consequently lashed out at him because apparently it's unacceptable to make that same, tasteless comparison twice (Blaine really doesn't remember Finn saying that at all during Rachel's party, but that's probably for the best).
But at least he smells like Kurt's shampoo and Kurt's taken a liking for gripping his hair while kissing, so Blaine can live with it.
Even so, it's now preventing him from leaving the car, which they've recently parked in the Breadstix parking lot.
"Come on Blaine, everyone is going to look way worse. Apparently they were out until three," Kurt scoffs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.
Easy for him to say: he looks put together and perfect (as usual).
"It's not even ten - how are they functioning?" Blaine groans because he's barely functioning. Weekends are sacred to him - he enjoys sleeping in and making up for the lack of hours during the week.
There's a loud succession of hits on the hood of Blaine's car, causing Kurt to freeze and gasp in a pained manner; he truly is a mechanic's son. They whip their heads to see Santana leaning towards them, her arms spread apart, needlessly revealing her ample cleavage.
Kurt steps out of the car. "Do you see what kind of car this is? You do not slap a BMW 3 Series. You caress it."
Okay, Kurt getting hot and bothered about the treatment of Blaine's car is getting Blaine all hot and bothered.
"Whatever." She pushes off the car. "You guys coming in? I need someone silently judging me from across the table so I know when to stop eating," Santana says with the perfect amount of veiled sarcasm, staring pointedly at Kurt.
"You haven't been a Cheerio in months and yet your figures are still perfect," Kurt sniffs with undisguised bitterness.
This is certainly not the first time when Blaine has really wanted to report Coach Sylvester for student harassment (pear hips? Really?). And the fact that Kurt waves it off every time just astounds him.
"Hi Santana!" Blaine chirps happily when he opens his door and steps out.
Santana takes one look at Blaine's head and starts laughing. "Nice 'fro."
He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest, looking very much like a child.
"Don't insult his hair. He's very sensitive about it," Kurt adds rather unnecessarily.
"I seem to recall your liking it twenty minutes ago," Blaine retorts, causing Kurt to flush brilliantly.
She cackles. "Nice, Blanderson."
"Good morning, guys! Come on, Kurt, you owe me a large waffle!" Rachel exclaims as she skips over to the group, practically coming out of nowhere (he's come to realize that this is her thing). Kurt visibly winces at her multicolor sweater, but Blaine thinks it's kind of cute. "Wasn't my dress fabulous? Come on…" she trails off, nudging Kurt.
He heaves a dramatic sigh and Blaine tries to hold back his laughter. "Yes, alright, fine. It was…nice."
Sometimes Blaine's boyfriend is quite the bitch.
"Oh, get off it. I looked awesome," she scoffs.
Blaine can see the fondness in Kurt's eyes; hates Rachel his ass.
"Where's Mercedes?" Kurt inquires.
"Oh, well, she and Sam are at his church so they'll be here later," she explains, an obvious spark in her eyes.
Kurt's face brightens twofold. "Really," he drawls, looping his arm through hers. "You'll have to explain this little development while I buy you those disgusting breakfast foods."
"Hey, don't hate on waffles. What have they ever done to you," Blaine says.
Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, deeming that statement unworthy of a response as he and Rachel walk toward the entrance of Breadstix.
"Wait…" Rachel stops, looking back at Santana and Blaine, confused as to why they're not following them in.
"Just let it go, Rachel," Kurt responds with a pat to her hand.
Kurt glances over his shoulder with a pained expression (wasn't he the one leading her in? So fickle.), but Santana and Blaine just wave at him innocently. Before Kurt walks inside, he brings his other hand behind his back and flips them off.
Blaine lets out a gut-busting laugh and Santana smirks with surprise and amusement.
He smiles at her. "Hi."
"Hey." She smiles back. "You didn't dance with me last night," she adds.
He sighs. "I know. I wanted to, but…with everything…"
He didn't think he could leave Kurt's side, even if he really wanted to, and if Kurt's hold on Blaine's arm for the rest of the night was of any consideration, Kurt couldn't either.
"Yeah."
The atmosphere suddenly feels too heavy, at least for the middle of the parking lot at Breadstix.
"Can we…?" she gestures to his car.
"Oh. Yeah, of course." He opens his door and gets back in the driver's seat while Santana slides into the passenger side.
As soon as she slams the door (he winces at that - there's no need to slam!), she states, "I was a dick last night."
He snorts.
"You were awesome," she adds, glancing at him.
He smiles a little. "Thanks. It was really all Kurt, though."
"No, it wasn't."
He doesn't want to argue with her, so he keeps his mouth closed.
She sighs. "I guess I just…the whole Bully Whips…" she shakes her head. "It really does nothing."
"That's not true," Blaine starts to say, but he doesn't go further than that; the Bully Whips are the only reason why Kurt is even back at McKinley - Blaine has to believe in it, otherwise he'll start worrying about Kurt even more than he already does (and he doesn't think that's possible).
"Everything just sucks," she finishes rather dramatically.
"Not everything," Blaine tries to reason, even though he doesn't know why. When Kurt gets in these kinds of moods he just lets them happen (it's best for his safety). "I had a good time otherwise. Same with Kurt."
Santana shakes her head, sniffling. "I was complaining about not winning. When you and Kurt ran out," she tells him, looking straight ahead through the windshield. "I was so fucking selfish."
Blaine rubs eyes with his hand. They're sixteen-going-on-seventeen: of course they're all selfish and don't think about the bigger picture until they're no longer in the middle of it; it's hard to step outside of themselves. But during the course of his relationship with Kurt, they've grown to realize that they're so much more than just Blaine And Kurt.
Is it possible to feel too young and too old for his age at the same time?
"And Brittany, of all people…" she trails off with a sharp laugh. She sniffles and exhales shakily, bringing a hand to her eyes to make sure there aren't any tears.
He gives her an understanding smile. While preparing for his number at prom, he grew really fond of Brittany; he likes that even though she can be a bit senseless, she's capable of being quite observant.
He can see why Santana loves her.
"I'm sorry you didn't win," he says. He doesn't have to mention that he didn't vote at all; he thought it was wrong since he doesn't even go there (and she'll avoid another Mean Girls reference).
She waves a flippant hand. "Over it."
There's probably more of a back-story to this, which he may hear about after more time has passed.
"So," she starts, changing the subject.
He's about to quip back with a "so," but instead, he ends up admitting, "I thought about bailing the night before." He exhales loudly, the weight slowly lifting from his shoulders. "I actually stared at Kurt's number in my phone for over an hour, ready to call him and tell him that I couldn't do it, that we should just see a movie instead of going to prom."
She shakes her head. "Why? What changed your mind?"
"Kurt's face when I agreed to go in the first place." He flushes, but focuses on her eyes.
Santana smiles a little. "If I were straight, I'd totes steal you from Hummel."
"Well, you are Andersexual. Even though that's equivalent to being asexual," he responds with a wink.
"…Maybe I was wrong about that after all."
Blaine suddenly feels like a dense moron - like he should've realized sooner that Santana, for pretty much the entire time they've been "friends," has been relatively open (in her own, subtle way, of course). And yet, despite his being slow on the uptake and masking every negative feeling that courses through his system (funny how Santana seems to the reverse)…
"The last time I attended a dance, I got the shit kicked out of me," Blaine divulges without much emotion. A rather anticlimactic way of revealing such a dark part of his past, but he doubts she'd value his trying to be cinematic.
She inhales sharply.
His eyes begin to well up and he's thinking of a way to kick her out of the car as politely as possible, but nothing is coming to mind. Why can't he bring himself to ever be rude?
"You actually swore," she points out, her voice wavering.
It takes him a second to absorb what she said before he chuckles. "My mom washed my mouth out with soap the first time I swore. Haven't really done it since." He shakes his head to clear his mind of the memory. "I really, really wanted to be proven wrong," he adds in a whisper.
He's more than surprised to feel her hand on top of his, squeezing a little harder than necessary, but he appreciates the gesture anyway.
"How you and Kurt can be so strong is just…" she murmurs.
"It's really all -"
"No. Shut up, Anderson," she interrupts him, freezing him with a determined glare, her hold on his hand bordering on painful. "Kurt was amazing, no question. But you were fucking brave to do what you did, okay?"
He feels like crying again, partially because he knows he doesn't deserve any praise and also because he's been a nervous wreck for the past twenty-four hours and it has taken its toll on him. Kurt has been through so, so much and it can't (shouldn't) be belittled, but he'll never know how badly Blaine's hands shook on the drive to Kurt's house or how little sleep he got during the week due to nightmares.
With Santana gazing into his eyes, it seems like she knows, or can at least recognize the bags under his eyes are more than just a product of one bad night's sleep.
He wants her to know that some girl, maybe not Brittany (even though he does hope it is because she balances Santana out so well), will appreciate her actions and bravery in her future. But she's not out yet and he's very aware that she can easily tear his arm out of its socket, so he lets it go for another day.
"Come on, let's go in. The least you can do for not dancing with me is to buy me food," she says, letting go of his hand.
He discreetly flexes his hand as he steps out of the car. They'll have to work on the (non-dirty) physical aspects of their friendship, but it's the least of their problems and something that will easily get better with time.
She links their arms together and they walk forward.