FIC: Of Cellphones and Puzzle Pieces (Kurt, ensemble)
Title: Of Cellphones and Puzzle Pieces
Pairing: A bit of Kurt/Blaine but this is mostly a Kurt, New Directions and Warblers gen piece.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 8,085
Summary: Kurt is like a puzzle; eliminate one piece and nothing fits anymore. When Blaine discovers there are missing pieces that all of Kurt's friends seem to know about but him, he decides it's time to solve it bit by bit, even if the outcome doesn't look like what it says on the box. Oh, and there are lots of cellphones.
Notes: Written for gwendy1 as a gift for gleesecretsanta, originally posted here. I'm so glad you loved it, Wendy! I leaned heavily on the puzzle analogy for the structure and narrative of this fic, showing the impact of Kurt's transfer from different points of view and most of all how it affects Kurt. There's slight Kurt/Blaine but the focus is more on their dynamic than anything else. This fic turned out to be a jumble of semi-crack, angst and saccharine syrup.
Of Cellphones and Puzzle Pieces
Rachel Berry liked Kurt Hummel so much more when she didn’t have to fight him for female lead solos every week anymore. Admittedly those brawls had had their charms too, but their bond only strengthened by not having to engage in verbal cat fights on a regular basis.
Well, actually, she did miss those as well. Anyhow. She felt Kurt’s absence more than she could ever have imagined. Kurt’s departure from McKinley had been so abrupt, so sudden Rachel didn’t have time to start comprehending the impact of what had just happened when their friend left the classroom in stunned silence. They shouldn’t have practiced for Sectionals that day because none of them were able to say anything, let alone sing. Mercedes was almost sobbing when Mr. Schuester handed her her sheet music and Brittany looked even more confounded than she normally was, which was a terrifying occurrence in its own right. Finn had asked Rachel three times in a row if “all of this was a dream or something”, and then he actually asked her to pinch him just to make sure. The look of bewilderment on his face when it did hurt was bigger than Rachel had ever seen on him, which was saying something. Tina had completely withdrawn and just kept staring out of the window with such blank eyes Rachel wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she landed back on earth.
Rachel later realized she shouldn’t have forced them to practice that day, she really did. But since she hadn’t thought of the consequences of Kurt leaving back then, since she hadn’t wanted to dwell on them - at least for as long as possible - so she’d done something she’d never even considered doing before: shut up about her feelings completely. The show had to go on. She offered to do a solo, Stairway to Heaven, and Mr. Schuester looked like he didn’t even have the strength to nod in agreement. So she just got up and took center stage as she had always done, an entirely instinctual reaction to anything she’d ever had to deal with in her life: sing it out loud to as many people as were willing, half-willing or pretending to be willing to listen.
There was a muted applause when Rachel had belted out that last killer note, followed by an eerie silence. New Directions was never silent. Not if she had anything to do with it. Rachel wasn’t going to give in, and she single-handedly carried the whole session while trying to make her classmates get up and open their mouths. Mercedes and Finn however didn’t move an inch.
Later that night reality finally hit her. She was tossing and turning in bed, clutching her pink pillow and throwing off her sleep mask in frustration. Kurt Hummel was gone. Sure, they’d still see him, but not every single day. Not anymore. When she’d heard the news it felt like a sort of intermezzo had started, as if Kurt had just announced he was taking a short break from New Directions. Uncharacteristically silent tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she realized he wasn’t going to come back to them, that this was something she’d have to accept. The finality of it all kept her awake for most of the night and a residue of shock remained with her for weeks after Kurt’s departure.
Rachel also felt something churning in her gut as she thought of what that idiot Karofsky had done to Kurt. Fury. Disgust. Wrath. Abhorrence. Revulsion. Normally, with such a plethora of emotions, she’d have a field day expressing her emotions through song. But instead it felt like she had a severe case of laryngitis all over again. When she saw Puck trying to slash Karofsky’s tires on the parking lot between third and fourth period the next day she watched out for witnesses and just nodded at him when the coast was clear. He could get in serious trouble for this and possibly land back in juvvie, but Rachel wouldn’t think about stopping him even for a second. In fact she hoped he would be doing much, much more to Karofsky and silently she cursed the whole ATM predicament because it held him back from going full-on Puckzilla on that ignorant bastard.
When Kurt visited Rachel in the auditorium and asked her to help him audition for a solo she felt honored. His eyes were on her as she poured her heart out with Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina. She felt flustered and nervous the whole time while still immensely enjoying their time alone. A bizarre experience.
Sectionals arrived and when New Directions stepped on the bus in complete silence, her heart still pounded with excitement. Not for the event itself - what was the point of making such a long trip to just sway in the background on stage and make a little bit of backdrop noise? - but at the knowledge of getting to see Kurt for the second time since he had left.
They got to talk and hug, which delighted her, but when it was time for him to head to stage, though, she experienced a bittersweet afterthought. No matter how much she was shocked at Finn and Santana’s hookup she had to mull over the fact that Kurt’s eyes had looked as if they’d lost something. His whole appearance and demeanor conveyed a sort of quiet sorrow, a sadness that Rachel had never seen in Kurt before. His voice was softer as well as his laughter and his smile did not show her the spirit she had become so accustomed to seeing in him. He didn’t even seem excited when that Blaine guy told him they had to go backstage, and Rachel knew Kurt would never look blank right before he was going to perform. At least not the Kurt she knew.
Something was wrong, she knew it for sure, and Rachel kept ruminating for a few minutes before she moved off of her stool and returned to her seat.
Kurt’s performance was stellar, just as she had expected. There was one thing that struck Rachel while seeing him on stage though and it confirmed her new theory. Kurt was being pushed into the background as well, even when he was clearly visible, and his voice was just a part of the overall framework of a song sung by the lead soloist, Blaine whatshisface. Kurt had already told her about him and she was glad they were friends but as she saw the boy perform of stab of jealousy and rage rushed through her, because if anyone in that group deserved to stand in the spotlight, it was Kurt. Just like she deserved to shine in New Directions. Kurt and she had even much more in common than she had ever thought.
The more she thought about it the more she worried about Kurt’s situation. At first she’d just chalked it up to nerves for Sectionals and not getting the solo he definitely deserved, but she quickly figured out that there was something much more serious going on behind it all. How and why Kurt had lost his fierceness she didn’t understand and being Rachel Berry, she swore she would not rest until she found out exactly what was happening.
-*-
Kurt sat next to Blaine on the couch, listening to Wes rambling on about vocal pitches for what must have been the hundredth time. Occasionally Blaine threw him mocking chuckles and rolling eyes, which was the only thing that made Kurt able to sit through another one of these perpetually uninteresting Warbler practices. It felt like he hadn’t sung in front of an audience for ages, let alone had gotten to do a solo.
Then his cell buzzed really loudly, startling the whole room. Damn, forgot to put it on vibrate, Kurt thought as he dug up the phone and put it on mute. When he looked up again he saw that everyone was staring at him as if he had just committed a crime of astronomic proportions. Or had punched each and every one of them in the face or something.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to turn it off,” Kurt said hastily, looking at Wes and David apologetically. They remained silent but the stern look on their faces didn’t diminish.
“It won’t happen again, folks, sorry for the interruption! Just go on…” Kurt said nervously.
“Hand me the phone,” Wes stated coldly.
“What?” Kurt’s mouth fell open.
“Give me your cell phone. We can’t have rude disturbances like that anymore so I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Kurt looked up at Blaine for help, but the latter just nodded slightly and made a head gesture towards the council table. With extreme embarrassment Kurt crossed the room. He gave Wes his phone with hands he desperately tried to stop from shaking. Everyone was still looking at him in utter silence, and his cheeks flushed crimson. Wes grabbed the cell and turned it off.
“You can get it back when the session is over,” Wes said without bothering to look at him. Blaine motioned for Kurt to come sit next to him on the leather coach again. Aghast, Kurt obeyed and couldn’t stop staring at his phone that lay on the table in front of David for the remainder of the hour. He couldn’t help himself from feeling like a small child being punished for stealing something out of the cookie jar before dinner.
-*-
Sue Sylvester would never admit it in public, but she didn’t like that Porcelain was not around anymore. She’d resigned as Principal to help him out in this painful situation and instead of getting to keep her promise she had to see Karofsky and hear his blabbering every day without being legally able to punch him in the face. If Sue Sylvester committed to something, she stuck to it. That’s what brought her so far, what had made her win so many trophies, what had made her Cheerleading Coach of the Year for as many years as she could remember being a teacher. But when it came to this one, she couldn’t do anything. It was frustrating as hell.
That dense Will Schuester probably hadn’t noticed any of it, but Sue was convinced that what happened between Porcelain and Karofsky entailed more than a simple “I’ll kill you”. If staff members could get fired for making death threats Sue would’ve been thrown out more than the McKinley football team had lost to the most pathetic low-ranking teams in Ohio. She knew well enough that this was probably not the first time Karofsky had made such a threat and she guessed Porcelain was aware of that as well. That bully was the kind of kid who would throw around “I’ll kill you”’s whenever someone beat him at a video game or tried to steal a french fry from his plate.
That utterly agonized look in Porcelain’s eyes when he sat in her office had been discouraging to watch. Former office, Sue had to remind herself with a slight stab of something that was probably due to her rigorous workouts or indigestion. Porcelain was probably in a better, safer environment right now. But there was no way he was going to just forget what had happened. Sue mused some more and cursed. He’d been a damn fine Cheerio as well. Tomorrow, she decided, she was going to look up if she could get away with caning a student without Karofsky’s parents being able to press charges against her.
-*-
About two months after Kurt’s departure, Rachel felt ecstatic when she could text Kurt with the news that McKinley had propositioned the Warblers to attend New Directions’ Pre-Regionals Invitational.
Can’t wait 2 see u, she typed frantically, sending her text before she realized how inappropriate that might have sounded.
Me neither, he answered almost immediately. She grinned.
Do u have time 2 talk? Rachel asked.
Tell me one reason why I should pry myself away from my French assignment and probably lose the whole evening, Kurt answered.
Rachel blushed fiercely and pressed dial.
-*-
Blaine never experienced an odder, crazy and more satisfying afternoon before. He, Kurt and the a small group of other Warblers walked down the halls of McKinley High, looking around and peeking inside the filled classrooms. Then there was a wild scream and a pretty blond girl in a cheerleader uniform came racing towards them - out of the corner of his eye Blaine could see David flinch, preparing to duck for cover - to practically jump all over Kurt. She was giggling and shouting things and they all looked on in utter confusion. Kurt’s face lit up with so much wild happiness Blaine couldn’t even recognize him for a moment. Sure, he knew Kurt was as upbeat, overenthusiastic and all-around bursting with energy as they come, but something in him stirred when he realized that he’d never seen this level of giddiness in his friend before. It wasn’t exactly jealousy - but it came close.
The cheerleader, whom Kurt referred to as Brittany, suddenly tugged at Kurt’s Warbler tie with such force Kurt had to gag. “Why are you wearing a Japanese businessman costume? You’re not Japanese,” she mumbled, doe-eyed and sounding sort of disappointed. Kurt composed himself, cheeks still flushed from the lack of oxygen and gently removed the tie from her grasp. “We have to wear these uniforms over at Dalton,” he clarified with a sweet smile that made Blaine’s heart melt and freeze at roughly the same time. This was going to be a really interesting afternoon.
Another cheerleader joined them, this one dark-haired and fierce. She almost had to pull Brittany off of Kurt to get a chance at hugging him. When she pecked Kurt on the cheek Blaine couldn’t do anything but notice its red hue spreading some more. “We got off practice early, can you believe it?” the girl said, taking a step back to look her friend up and down, appraising him. “And I’m so not used to seeing you in the same outfit more than once,” she added with a tilt of her head and slightly narrowed eyes. “That must be torture for you.”
Brittany gasped, putting a small hand in front of her mouth. “Are they torturing you?”
Blaine looked around at the other Warblers, who were all pretty much mimicking his own expression right now: utterly astounded. Wes was trying to keep his mouth from falling open and David kept fiddling with his tie nervously, eying the whole scene with a puzzled expression on his face.
Kurt and the two cheerleaders quickly fell into a busy conversation consisting of wild gestures, the girl named Santana interrupting the other two ostentatiously, and laughter.
“Seriously, I can’t feel my thighs anymore. And my pelvis - I don’t even want to go there,” the dark-haired cheerleader was chattering, indicating just where and how it had come to hurt during practice. “And Coach Sylvester looked so absent too,” Brittany added with a blank expression. Santana exchanged a look with Kurt, indicating that if even she had noticed it, it had to be a stone-cold fact. Their laughs filled the hallway, and even when Kurt had introduced the girls to the others - who just stood there gaping around - their conversation didn’t seem to be going to stop anytime within the next eight hours.
“…I totally appreciate what you did at Nationals last year…I mean, you did that flip while singing Celine Dion…in French, right?” Santana said, taking Kurt’s lapels in her hands.
The school bell rang and chaos ensued. A faintly melodious scream cut through the air and David prepared to run again when they saw someone else trampling down the hall towards Kurt. Blaine recognized this one’s face. It was the girl he’d seen Kurt talking to at Sectionals, Rachel.
Kurt caught her in a hug in what seemed like mid-air, and proceeded to spin her around in a dramatic but heartfelt movement. Finn Hudson, whom Blaine had already met once, clapped him on the shoulder and a goth girl was jumping up and down excitedly, asking him questions endlessly, while Kurt seemed to be talking to everyone, responding to each of their questions all at the same time. Blaine had never witnessed such an odd, all-over-the-place conversation before, and he wondered how they did it - and wondered why he felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the expression of pure delight on Kurt’s face as more and more of his friends came pouring through the hall and formed a cluster of loud and excited directionless projectiles around him.
“…missed you, sexy…” Blaine heard Santana say and his mouth fell open this time. Rachel was clutching Kurt’s hand, swinging it back and forth. At last their director, Mr. Schuester, appeared, who just barged through the unruly crowd - Blaine wondered how he didn’t even seem to mind his students so noisy and disorganized in the middle of a school hall - to hug Kurt and exchange smiles, Schuester’s affectionate and Kurt’s enthusiastic, that boggled Blaine’s mind. But then again, this was the teacher who’d driven down from Lima to Westerville to ask Kurt for gift shopping advice.
All of a sudden the group started moving as one unit and the Warblers were forced to just go with the swarm, no clue as to where they would end up now. Still fiddling with his tie, David mumbled to Wes, “This is a bizarro world, I just know it. Or another plane of reality.” Wes grunted something intelligible and Blaine chuckled, actually kind of agreeing with David there. Before they knew it they had entered what looked like a typical public school classroom, including plastic folding chairs and dingy storage closets that looked like nobody had opened them during the last decade or so. Blaine tried to sit down next to Kurt but Rachel had already slipped in front of him to take the seat, never once stopping her stream of words as Kurt nodded and laughed and tried to insert his own voice into the discussion. It went above Blaine’s head as to how one person speaking could create such a busy atmosphere, as if there were a dozen people shouting things at each other from across a football field. He’d heard Kurt talk about her overwhelming presence, sure, but experiencing it in person was a wholly different thing.
“Guys?” Mr. Schuester offered, but his command went unheard as the group buzzed on. Wes and David looked at the teacher awkwardly, feeling embarrassed for him and almost wanting to help him by whipping everyone into order, but Mr. Schuester didn’t seem to mind one bit. He chuckled, hand clasped around Kurt’s shoulder and started listening to Finn explaining to his stepbrother how absolutely awful their last football game had been.
The door of the classroom crashed open, startling nearly no one but the Warblers, and a disheveled mohawked boy came stumbling in. He was panting a bit, as if he’d just ran a mile, and his eyes were round and filled with what looked like a mix of confusion, pride and excitement. He walked over to Kurt, who was still the absolute center of attention in the room, and Santana threw him a filthy look more painful than the thrusting of a thousand daggers. “Puck!” she yelled indignantly. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry I’m late guys,” Puck said before he tried to draw in a large breath. He bumped fists with Kurt. “But my job as ambadassador called me.” Finn was opening his mouth to reply when Mr. Schuester cut in with a pointed “I didn’t hear that, Puck.” Kurt’s stepbrother however didn’t get the hint and asked, “Dude, what did you do?” Rachel sighed and prodded her boyfriend in the side.
“I totally got rid of Karofsky - well, at least for the day,” Puck said proudly, a large self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. “We couldn’t have him around our boy Kurt so I got him suspended without hurting my parole. He was in the parking lot just now, and I pretended to be slashing his tires -totally faked it, too! - and he ran up to me and started punching me in the freaking face. Coach Sylvester was hiding two rows ahead of us and she managed to shove him face-down into the gravel before he messed me up too badly. She brought him to Figgins and now he’s temporarily suspended,” the boy beamed, looking around. “It was her plan actually…but I helped.”
“Thanks, Puck, I really appreciate that,” Kurt said with a soft smile and the mohawked boy bumped fists with him again. “But with juvvie and all…you’re sure this isn’t going to end badly?”
“Nah, I took good care of the situation. Coach Sylvester scared the crap out of three guys who were on the parking lot when it happened so they will testify that I didn’t attack if it comes to that. And I made it very clear that they’d seen me actually tying up my shoelaces in front of Karofsky’s car, instead of pretending to be slashing his tires or something.”
The Cheerio named Quinn chuckled. “But you’re not wearing any shoes with laces, Puck,” she said with a snort.
“So?” the boy enquired, raising an eyebrow before sitting down next to Finn and turning towards Kurt to comment on his uniform. “That’s just crazy,” he shook his head at Kurt. “Do they control your underwear as well?”
“You went to a juvenile detention center?” David asked about forty seconds late, trying to keep his breathing steady. The corners’ of Wes’ mouth twitched, stressed.
“Oh, totally!” Puck said enthusiastically. “I’m gangster like that. I only left because they kept stealing my waffles.”
The Warblers looked on in absolute silence, stunned. They all seemed to agree that there possibly couldn’t exist any good answer to such a statement. Finn started opening his mouth to say something but Rachel cut in, standing up and waving her hand a little. The buzz in the room decreased, but only slightly. “As much as we want to keep chatting with Kurt we have to remember we are here for a reason, and that we have guests to perform for, because I don’t think we’re going to make any lasting impression before Regionals if we don’t sing.”
Blaine somehow doubted they hadn’t already made one. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Schuester?” she asked in her high-pitched, excited voice. Their director nodded and gestured vaguely, having given up hope of ever regaining control somewhere along the first five minutes. “That’s right, Rachel.” She nodded curtly, smirked self-satisfactorily and sat down again.
The afternoon was spent discovering how exactly New Directions managed to distill order and brilliance out of utter chaos. They hadn’t even decided on a song, let alone their setlist for Regionals, and the first fifteen minutes were spent chatting, shouting and even picking fights over anything but music. They all swarmed around Kurt to spill their comments and stories.
Suddenly the door opened with a loud creak and a blond woman in a red track suit poked her head inside. “Ah, the Garblers, I assume? I could smell the stuffiness from miles away. Welcome home, Porcelain,” she added and Kurt smiled. Before any of them could respond she was gone.
The group began to discuss which numbers they could perform. Aghast, the other boys heard them rant and rave about more than a dozen songs at the same time, noise reaching an all-time high as fingers were being pointed at each other, Santana threatened to punch Puck in the face - twice - and others were still chatting with Kurt as if they hadn’t even heard they had to discuss songs. Then Rachel seemed to want to grab everyone’s attention because she rose from her seat again, waving her hand in the air and yelling. Apparently that was the way to make people here listen to you. Kurt’s “I had to scream to get noticed” had apparently been meant literally, Blaine realized with a shock.
“Fellow glee clubbers, I propose Anyone Can Whistle, but you guys are free to offer other suggestions,” Rachel said, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
“The hell we are,” the Puck mumbled. “That’s such a lame emotional song. I want something hardcore, like Get Up by 50 cent or something.”
Multiple voices interjected and another brief but fierce discussion followed. Then all at once they seemed to have decided on something and Blaine marveled at the way their dramatic gestures and heated arguments disappeared like snow when the song was finally chosen. Brittany was fist-pumping randomly and Mr. Schuester grinned, telling the piano man their choice.
Because of all the noise and the brawling none of the Warblers had actually heard what New Directions was going to perform for them. Blaine started smiling when he heard the first notes of Poker Face reverberate across the room. He felt something tug at his gut when he saw Rachel pull Kurt towards the front of the class and in an instant everyone stood up and started dancing around him. There was no discussion about choreography, positions or even style. And yet they danced like they had been practicing it for weeks, like there was no tomorrow. Their chaotic but mesmerizing moves felt organic somehow. It seemed to come natural to them and they all sported a gigantic smile on their faces.
When Blaine saw Kurt’s sparkling eyes and satisfied smile he realized he hadn’t seen him this happy, ever. Not even when he was still attending McKinley. With a painful twinge Blaine understood that this sort of intense bliss, these moments, had been a big part of Kurt’s life that he hadn’t even known about. It felt bizarre that his friend was finally revealing himself to him, showing him just who he was, and that Blaine felt surprised. And now that he saw Kurt dancing, doing heel turns and twirling Quinn, Brittany and Rachel around, Blaine knew that his friend was in his element, his habitat.
And God, could he dance. The group was singing and dancing at the same time, vocals and moves pure perfection. There was no cue for someone to take the lead or even for who should do the next solo because they all dropped in whenever they felt it was right - and damn, did it work magnificently. When all of a sudden Kurt took the lead it sounded angelic, intense and powerful at the same time. The thought perfect flashed through Blaine’s mind. Blaine had to do everything to keep himself from sitting there with his mouth hanging open. Looking at the other Warblers it was obvious they were struggling with the same problem as well.
“Man, Kurt can dance,” David whispered and Wes prodded him in the side. “No, seriously, we should feature him more,” he repeated. Wes grunted in return.
Several of Kurt’s former teammates asked the Warblers to join in with their dancing but Wes stiffly summed up some rules about Invitationals and rival clubs so they stayed in their seats. Blaine wanted to punch him in the face so hard but instead kept his eyes focused on Kurt in order to contain himself.
Suddenly a few beats of Bad Romance swelled up and everyone shrieked, clapping and jumping excitedly. Kurt took the lead again, with Santana, Quinn and Rachel backing him up. The medley went on to include Paparazzi and finally Alejandro, the latter which was sung slowly and with a great deal of emotion, making it contrast with the former songs’ upbeat tempos.
Eventually everyone sat down again, chatting loudly and patting each other’s backs. Blaine knew they were probably in for another good fifteen minutes of cheerful disarray but he actually enjoyed it. He was watching Kurt, who was listening to Puck describe some sort of football move with wild gestures. Finn was laughing and Kurt almost got into a giggle fit when Puck’s swaying nearly made the boy lose his balance and fall off of the side of his chair. “Yeah, like that,” Puck commented when he’d seated himself again properly. “No, seriously, you have to fall in order for it to work.”
Santana’s voice rose above the crowd. “Kurt, since Cheerios practice got cut off early today and you do pop up tucks like no other you and I are gonna do some back flips and tucks right now. Show dem’ preppy boarding school boys what you got,” she stated matter-of-factly.
The room started cheering, making Blaine jump. “…But Kurt goes to a boarding school now,” Brittany commented. Nobody bothered to respond. Rachel started shouting in her already very familiar attention-demanding high-pitched voice. “Only if he wants to, because it’s been a while since he was a Cheerio. He’s been out of it for a while.” Rachel squeezed the boy’s hand, previous annoyance at the club’s deviation from song choice completely gone. “What do you say, Kurt?” Her voice was gentle.
“Of course. Every opportunity to do a cartwheel is a good one,” Kurt grinned and all at once Brittany, Santana and Quinn took center stage along with Kurt. It all happened so fast Blaine couldn’t even process what was happening. He’d known that Kurt had been a Cheerio but he’d never thought about what that entailed, exactly.
“Any requests?” Kurt asked with a grin, hands on his hips, the girls positioned in a triangle behind him.
Puck, Finn, Tina and several others yelled the same thing at the same time. Blaine’s ears hurt as he heard them plead for him to do Four Minutes. “Okay,” Kurt nodded at the girls and the room cheered again. When Madonna’s song started, Blaine witnessed something he’d never have believed was possible before today.
There were back flips, splits, tumbling, an extremely difficult-looking move called “the Scorpion” and some more flips while Kurt’s voice carried the whole song. Blaine and the other Dalton students were enticed and shocked at the same time. How did I never know he was so flexible? Blaine thought, biting his bottom lip. Kurt’s moves were incredible. Much too soon, Blaine thought, the song ended - the whole performance lasted about three-and-a-half minutes. They sat down again while the rest of New Directions was applauding and patting them on the back.
“Dude, seriously, how can you still do those moves?” Finn asked, genuinely puzzled and impressed. Santana answered for Kurt. “Once a Cheerio, always a Cheerio,” she stated and locked pinkies with Kurt on one side and with Brittany with her other hand. “He has awesome lips too. I dated him,” Brittany added suddenly. Blaine turned to look at the blond cheerleader, fully expecting her to be kidding, but to his horror she looked dead serious and nobody seemed to find her statement strange or even anything new. He looked at Santana imploringly and the latter nodded with a wicked smile. Blaine gulped. It was like Kurt had been leading a double life before he’d met him.
A couple of minutes later Rachel rose again, silencing the room with her high-pitched call. “Guys, look what I have in my hands,” she said as she waved around something shiny. “It’s a DVD,” she finished when nobody said anything. The room went quiet, eyes staring up at her expectantly.
“That’s not Run Joey Run, is it?” Puck suddenly asked in a disconcerted tone but Rachel smacked him on the back of the head. “Why would I carry around footage of you, Puckerman?” She asked sweetly. “Touché,” the boy replied while he rubbed the sore spot on his scalp.
“This is a compilation of some of New Directions’ greatest moments together - performances, lessons, cell phone footage and such. They’re all tiny snippets but I think it’ll be worth your while,” Rachel said with an excited grin. When she looked at Schuester the man smiled and nodded, giving her permission to put the disc in the dvd player hooked to the television at the right side of the room.
The video started with a snippet of what looked like a very spicy performance of Toxic by Britney Spears. About twenty seconds later it cut to a shaky cell cam recording of a surprisingly enjoyable version of Ice Ice Baby, with all of them dancing around Mr. Schuester in the very classroom they were sitting in right now. Then there was footage of Kurt practicing tucks and back flips for the Cheerios outside on the football field, together with Santana and Brittany.
“Hey, who filmed that?” Kurt cried with mock indignation. “I did,” Quinn purred playfully. “I had to do something when I sat there in the stadium, cursing my bump.”
A snippet of what looked like a copy of the Vogue video appeared - I put that together, Artie proclaimed proudly - which heavily featured Kurt, Mercedes and someone who looked like the blond cheerleader coach who’d briefly peeked into the room before vanishing. Blaine had no idea how they’d managed to pull off such a breathtaking rendition of Madonna’s classic. Suddenly a fragment of Four Minutes came on screen and there were multiple close-ups of Kurt dancing and generally rocking the whole assembly hall. The room started cheering again. About forty seconds later there was shaky clip of them performing Bad Romance in absolutely insane but brilliant costumes, followed by laughing and hugging and them prodding each other’s clothes in front of the camera. Situated somewhere in the back he thought he saw a person who looked like a member of Kiss.
Blaine glanced at Kurt, who wasn’t too far away from him but was still separated by two rows and more than half a dozen people. Rachel was squeezing his hand and Finn had sat down on the other side. Kurt looked intensely happy. So much so that Blaine felt something clench in his gut and he had difficulty tearing his eyes off of him to watch the video.
There appeared a fragment of Kurt racing down the hall with Tina and Artie - both in wheelchairs, Blaine saw with a start - and laughing hysterically. Then there was a duet featuring Kurt and a blond woman Puck assured the Warblers was a former student and a hot but eternally wasted cougar. Dressed-up people dancing and singing in a hall appeared on screen and Sam whispered to Blaine that it was filmed at Kurt and Finn’s parents’ wedding. Another shaky cam segment of one of New Directions’ practice sessions followed. The compilation ended with footage of Kurt and Rachel sitting in front of the class, holding hands and singing a mashup of Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy, their faces and performance living up to the name of the songs perfectly. Eventually the screen faded to black.
Besides fawning over Kurt’s performances Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about the clothes his friend had worn in the clips. They were all statement pieces, whimsical and florid, but every single outfit had obviously been meticulously put together. He’d never seen Kurt in these clothes and even when he had met up with him before the transfer Kurt seemed to have put on clothes that were much more demure than what he normally wore - and to think that Blaine already thought of his style as exorbitant back then. But he loved every single piece he had seen. The endless remarks on Kurt’s uniform earlier that day started to make sense now.
Gears started grinding in his head and soon everything started to fit together like puzzle pieces. Kurt’s personality, his optimism, his passion, his clothes. He’d only seen a little bit of Kurt during the time he’d known him - and if he was already that in love with these tiny fragments how he would feel when he knew everything? And for the first time he realized what Dalton’s uniformity was doing to Kurt, and why he had much more trouble fitting in than Blaine had expected him to. He’d only seen less than a half of Kurt not because he was hiding the rest from him, but because he just couldn’t show it to him at Dalton. And maybe he even thought he couldn’t show it to Blaine, either. In that moment Blaine realized how hard it must have been for Kurt to transfer away from this safe haven, this source of joy, even if his very life had been threatened. He finally understood and it was a very ambiguous feeling.
-*-
“I don’t get it,” Kurt murmured. He was sitting next to Blaine, their legs touching, sharing body warmth. “You’re chastising me?” He frowned.
“I am, yes. I volunteered to do it because I knew none of the other guys would go soft on you,” Blaine said as he stared at his feet. A fleeting reassuring smile appeared on his face and Kurt didn’t even know how to respond. An awkward silence followed. Blaine seemed confused at the tense atmosphere their conversation had created and Kurt got the sudden urge to yell and scream at him until he understood.
They hadn’t had a real conversation, the sort of conversation they used to have when he was still at McKinley, ever since the transfer. Kurt had no illusions that he had the energy to start one now. He didn’t even know if Blaine would ever be up for honest dialogue again. But that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach had become too painful to ignore. Kurt had made plenty of acquaintances at Dalton and when he wasn’t with Blaine he hung out with them in their dorm but that was only out of necessity. His survival instinct kicking in. Blaine was the only person resembling a genuine friend at Dalton, so here he was. He’d intended to explain what was getting him down but before he could talk, Blaine had given him the news.
“So you’re saying you didn’t want me to get hurt so you offered to punish me?” Kurt summed up, unable to meet the other boy’s eyes.
“In short…yes.” Blaine sighed and Kurt felt like the other boy didn’t have the right to do that. This was not his cross to bear, this was Kurt’s. “They really did not like that you were mingling so much, you know, with our competition.”
“They’re my friends.”
“I didn’t decide it. They - mostly Wes, actually - thought that you singing with them was akin to divulging secrets and skills or something like that, and then they counted all the times you said something inappropriate during practice, and the cell incident…so they came up with what they thought of as a proper punishment. I’m really sorry, Kurt.”
“I can’t believe this,” he said, realizing his heart was hammering so hard it hurt his chest. “A one-and-a-half-month suspension from the Warblers, nothing I did could be so bad to make me deserve that! I mean, if I miss that much I will probably not even get to come along to Regionals, right?” Kurt looked up at Blaine with desperation and confusion.
Blaine was still staring at the floor as he answered, “I’m afraid you’re right, Kurt. But don’t forget that there’s always next year. You’re a really good performer, you know that. You’ll adjust.”
“Adjust?” Kurt shrieked abruptly and with that he snapped Blaine out of his reverie. “Do you even know how much I’ve had to compromise my very existence already? Blaine, you don’t have a clue, do you? This place is dead on the inside. People here are soulless parts of a perpetually working machine that pushes everyone into conformity and disables them from developing any shred of something resembling a personality,” he rambled on, looking at Blaine in what looked like disgust. Blaine blinked, not even having been able to process that last long sentence.
“Kurt, calm down. I know you don’t mean that,” he remarked, eyes widened.
“Yes, I do mean it. I mean every single word of it. And Blaine, did you know I liked you so, so much before I enrolled here? I looked forward to spending time with you, so much so that I started pushing my own friends away for a while. I canceled appointments I’d already made a long time ago. I hurt Mercedes. And what did I get in return? When I came here I saw you for who you really are, or at least what you pretend to be, I haven’t made up my mind about that yet. But you’ve been cold, condescending and just as willing to make me repress my identity and individuality as everyone else,” he said while he gathered his things, put them in his bag and prepared to stalk off.
“Kurt, please listen to me,” Blaine offered, looking at his friend with pleading eyes. Kurt could never resist those so he decided to delay his storming out by a minute or so and nodded at Blaine curtly.
“I just wanted to make things easier for you,” Blaine said, “I had no idea how painful it was for you. But I did it because I know what is and what isn’t accepted here. I know what you’re going through so I’m trying to help you. I like you, Kurt, and I wouldn’t want anyone frowning down on you. Look at me, I blended in successfully. I just want you to be happy, too.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through!” Kurt yelled defiantly. “And I tried to assimilate, I really did. But I’ve learned a good life lesson: people will repress you no matter where you go. It can be aggressive, bold and in-your-face but it can just as well be subtle and sly.”
“Assimilate? Kurt, this isn’t a prison,” Blaine said, aghast.
“See, that’s exactly my point. It is.” Kurt slung his bag over his shoulder and left the hall. As if dramatically timed, the school bell rang to announce the start of third period. Blaine didn’t move for a while and kept on staring at the floor while random fragments of ideas continued to fry his already muddled mind.
-*-
Britt wanted 2 talk 2 u but she took a shower with her clothes still on and ruined her cell. Anyway, she misses u. And I do too, sexy. xx Santana
Kurt kept staring at the text he’d just gotten, unable to fight the smile forming on his face.
He was still boiling inside because of Blaine and his suspension, but somehow his friends always managed to soothe his wounds.
I am so coming over to murder that idiot and that stupid council too. I MEAN IT. - Mercedes
Kurt somehow didn’t doubt she meant it.
Mom is going to make her famous roast on Friday, so please pretend like you love it even if you don’t. She’s very proud of her roast. And wth did I just hear from Mercedes about ur club? R they stupid? Finn
He had to restrain himself from sending back a message that stated that they were indeed stupid.
If you need help suing the club I’m already talking 2 my dads - they suspended you while you won Sectionals for them, so that HAS to be illegal. Also, can I have Blaine’s cell number? Xoxo Rachel
With a chuckle, Kurt texted her back, repressing the urge to give her Blaine’s number and revel in the knowledge that she was going to scream at him on the phone all day long. But in the end he decided even Blaine didn’t deserve that.
-*-
Kurt felt like too much of a mess to study. He was ready to toss his textbook in the hearth and plant his face into one of the leather dorm couches around him. And maybe pass out for a while. Yes, that’d probably feel good.
Blaine’s sudden arrival however ruined his plans. Kurt was reminded of their fight yesterday, and of how his friend had come to him with a bouquet of pink Lilium - one of his favorite flowers - and said something about surprising him as an apology later that evening. Kurt didn’t even know how he could have bought flowers on such short notice, let alone such exotic ones. But he hadn’t questioned it at the time because he was still furious.
The morning after it had dawned on him that Blaine had been gone all day after their fight and that these were probably connected facts. Eventually Blaine had told him he’d driven down to Lima to ask Mr. Schuester if it was legally possible for Kurt to join in on New Directions’ practices from now on. When he heard his friend utter those words, Kurt’s heart leapt and he jumped up to hug him, angry or not. Apparently Schuester had been able to talk the school board into letting Kurt be able to turn up during practice and participate as a “visitor”. Schuester had been interrupted by coach Sylvester when Blaine was there and she had apparently sworn on her complete trophy collection that she’d make sure Karofsky would be suspended whenever Kurt would turn up. “I didn’t hear that,” Schuester had said and then continued his discussion with Blaine.
So here they were. Kurt felt ambiguous - liking the effort and thought Blaine had put into making him feel more comfortable, but weary because he was not going to forget how painful his time at Dalton had been up until now.
“Hey,” Blaine said with a tentative grin.
“Hi,” Kurt replied, closing his textbook. However much he tried, the bitter taste in the back of his mouth didn’t leave. “How was practice?”
“Okay. Not as good without you,” Blaine said, sitting down next to Kurt and winking. Kurt chuckled and moved closer. For a short while, Kurt thought, he would just have to repress the agony and indulge in the fantasy Blaine and Dalton became from time to time. There were moments were Kurt wanted to hit Blaine or cry into his pillow at night, but there were flashes of happiness too - mostly when Blaine’s attitude shifted from confused idiot into affectionate more-than-friend territory again, just like today. Maybe he would just have to cling to those memories and hope they formed a basis for a better future. And, on the other hand, having been kicked out of the Warblers meant that he could visit McKinley and sing with his friends from time to time, which would make things much more bearable.
Blaine suddenly leaned in to press his lips against Kurt’s. He eagerly responded in what became an increasingly animalistic kiss, full of hunger, fire, need, and a tad of anger and bitterness. Kurt thought it was very appropriate that their first kiss happened like this and pulled back abruptly, surprising Blaine. The other boy obviously wanted more but Kurt decided he was not going to get more from him that day. Kurt casually opened his textbook again, gathering a pen and paper to finish his notes as Blaine kept staring at him in shock.
Blaine had taken a good stride on the road to forgiveness, but he wasn’t there yet. Out of the corner of his eye Kurt could see the smirk on Blaine’s face that made it clear his friend understood. Just a few days ago Blaine had discovered that there was an infinitely larger amount of layers he had to peel off of Kurt to get to the core. The faint smile on Blaine’s face indicated that he understood why it was only fair that he had to dig deeper before he could really have Kurt. It was obvious that he couldn’t wait to do so.
All of a sudden Kurt’s cell buzzed. He picked it up hastily, only to discover he’d missed more than eight calls from Mercedes, Finn, Tina and Rachel combined.
Lookin’ forward to seeing our sexy visitor again, Santana’s text read.
Breadstix at eight this Friday? Finn, Sam, Mike and Tina are sure they’re gonna be there, Mercedes had sent him.
Blaine-guy treating u well? What he did was sweet but he’s not off the hook yet. Can I have his cell? Rachel inquired. Kurt chuckled at the realization of how like-minded Rachel and he were being at the moment, and how he was going to get through all of this in no small part due to his friends. Blaine sat next to him on the couch, twiddling his thumbs, while Kurt responded to each and every message leisurely.
Pairing: A bit of Kurt/Blaine but this is mostly a Kurt, New Directions and Warblers gen piece.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 8,085
Summary: Kurt is like a puzzle; eliminate one piece and nothing fits anymore. When Blaine discovers there are missing pieces that all of Kurt's friends seem to know about but him, he decides it's time to solve it bit by bit, even if the outcome doesn't look like what it says on the box. Oh, and there are lots of cellphones.
Notes: Written for gwendy1 as a gift for gleesecretsanta, originally posted here. I'm so glad you loved it, Wendy! I leaned heavily on the puzzle analogy for the structure and narrative of this fic, showing the impact of Kurt's transfer from different points of view and most of all how it affects Kurt. There's slight Kurt/Blaine but the focus is more on their dynamic than anything else. This fic turned out to be a jumble of semi-crack, angst and saccharine syrup.
Of Cellphones and Puzzle Pieces
Rachel Berry liked Kurt Hummel so much more when she didn’t have to fight him for female lead solos every week anymore. Admittedly those brawls had had their charms too, but their bond only strengthened by not having to engage in verbal cat fights on a regular basis.
Well, actually, she did miss those as well. Anyhow. She felt Kurt’s absence more than she could ever have imagined. Kurt’s departure from McKinley had been so abrupt, so sudden Rachel didn’t have time to start comprehending the impact of what had just happened when their friend left the classroom in stunned silence. They shouldn’t have practiced for Sectionals that day because none of them were able to say anything, let alone sing. Mercedes was almost sobbing when Mr. Schuester handed her her sheet music and Brittany looked even more confounded than she normally was, which was a terrifying occurrence in its own right. Finn had asked Rachel three times in a row if “all of this was a dream or something”, and then he actually asked her to pinch him just to make sure. The look of bewilderment on his face when it did hurt was bigger than Rachel had ever seen on him, which was saying something. Tina had completely withdrawn and just kept staring out of the window with such blank eyes Rachel wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she landed back on earth.
Rachel later realized she shouldn’t have forced them to practice that day, she really did. But since she hadn’t thought of the consequences of Kurt leaving back then, since she hadn’t wanted to dwell on them - at least for as long as possible - so she’d done something she’d never even considered doing before: shut up about her feelings completely. The show had to go on. She offered to do a solo, Stairway to Heaven, and Mr. Schuester looked like he didn’t even have the strength to nod in agreement. So she just got up and took center stage as she had always done, an entirely instinctual reaction to anything she’d ever had to deal with in her life: sing it out loud to as many people as were willing, half-willing or pretending to be willing to listen.
There was a muted applause when Rachel had belted out that last killer note, followed by an eerie silence. New Directions was never silent. Not if she had anything to do with it. Rachel wasn’t going to give in, and she single-handedly carried the whole session while trying to make her classmates get up and open their mouths. Mercedes and Finn however didn’t move an inch.
Later that night reality finally hit her. She was tossing and turning in bed, clutching her pink pillow and throwing off her sleep mask in frustration. Kurt Hummel was gone. Sure, they’d still see him, but not every single day. Not anymore. When she’d heard the news it felt like a sort of intermezzo had started, as if Kurt had just announced he was taking a short break from New Directions. Uncharacteristically silent tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she realized he wasn’t going to come back to them, that this was something she’d have to accept. The finality of it all kept her awake for most of the night and a residue of shock remained with her for weeks after Kurt’s departure.
Rachel also felt something churning in her gut as she thought of what that idiot Karofsky had done to Kurt. Fury. Disgust. Wrath. Abhorrence. Revulsion. Normally, with such a plethora of emotions, she’d have a field day expressing her emotions through song. But instead it felt like she had a severe case of laryngitis all over again. When she saw Puck trying to slash Karofsky’s tires on the parking lot between third and fourth period the next day she watched out for witnesses and just nodded at him when the coast was clear. He could get in serious trouble for this and possibly land back in juvvie, but Rachel wouldn’t think about stopping him even for a second. In fact she hoped he would be doing much, much more to Karofsky and silently she cursed the whole ATM predicament because it held him back from going full-on Puckzilla on that ignorant bastard.
When Kurt visited Rachel in the auditorium and asked her to help him audition for a solo she felt honored. His eyes were on her as she poured her heart out with Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina. She felt flustered and nervous the whole time while still immensely enjoying their time alone. A bizarre experience.
Sectionals arrived and when New Directions stepped on the bus in complete silence, her heart still pounded with excitement. Not for the event itself - what was the point of making such a long trip to just sway in the background on stage and make a little bit of backdrop noise? - but at the knowledge of getting to see Kurt for the second time since he had left.
They got to talk and hug, which delighted her, but when it was time for him to head to stage, though, she experienced a bittersweet afterthought. No matter how much she was shocked at Finn and Santana’s hookup she had to mull over the fact that Kurt’s eyes had looked as if they’d lost something. His whole appearance and demeanor conveyed a sort of quiet sorrow, a sadness that Rachel had never seen in Kurt before. His voice was softer as well as his laughter and his smile did not show her the spirit she had become so accustomed to seeing in him. He didn’t even seem excited when that Blaine guy told him they had to go backstage, and Rachel knew Kurt would never look blank right before he was going to perform. At least not the Kurt she knew.
Something was wrong, she knew it for sure, and Rachel kept ruminating for a few minutes before she moved off of her stool and returned to her seat.
Kurt’s performance was stellar, just as she had expected. There was one thing that struck Rachel while seeing him on stage though and it confirmed her new theory. Kurt was being pushed into the background as well, even when he was clearly visible, and his voice was just a part of the overall framework of a song sung by the lead soloist, Blaine whatshisface. Kurt had already told her about him and she was glad they were friends but as she saw the boy perform of stab of jealousy and rage rushed through her, because if anyone in that group deserved to stand in the spotlight, it was Kurt. Just like she deserved to shine in New Directions. Kurt and she had even much more in common than she had ever thought.
The more she thought about it the more she worried about Kurt’s situation. At first she’d just chalked it up to nerves for Sectionals and not getting the solo he definitely deserved, but she quickly figured out that there was something much more serious going on behind it all. How and why Kurt had lost his fierceness she didn’t understand and being Rachel Berry, she swore she would not rest until she found out exactly what was happening.
-*-
Kurt sat next to Blaine on the couch, listening to Wes rambling on about vocal pitches for what must have been the hundredth time. Occasionally Blaine threw him mocking chuckles and rolling eyes, which was the only thing that made Kurt able to sit through another one of these perpetually uninteresting Warbler practices. It felt like he hadn’t sung in front of an audience for ages, let alone had gotten to do a solo.
Then his cell buzzed really loudly, startling the whole room. Damn, forgot to put it on vibrate, Kurt thought as he dug up the phone and put it on mute. When he looked up again he saw that everyone was staring at him as if he had just committed a crime of astronomic proportions. Or had punched each and every one of them in the face or something.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to turn it off,” Kurt said hastily, looking at Wes and David apologetically. They remained silent but the stern look on their faces didn’t diminish.
“It won’t happen again, folks, sorry for the interruption! Just go on…” Kurt said nervously.
“Hand me the phone,” Wes stated coldly.
“What?” Kurt’s mouth fell open.
“Give me your cell phone. We can’t have rude disturbances like that anymore so I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Kurt looked up at Blaine for help, but the latter just nodded slightly and made a head gesture towards the council table. With extreme embarrassment Kurt crossed the room. He gave Wes his phone with hands he desperately tried to stop from shaking. Everyone was still looking at him in utter silence, and his cheeks flushed crimson. Wes grabbed the cell and turned it off.
“You can get it back when the session is over,” Wes said without bothering to look at him. Blaine motioned for Kurt to come sit next to him on the leather coach again. Aghast, Kurt obeyed and couldn’t stop staring at his phone that lay on the table in front of David for the remainder of the hour. He couldn’t help himself from feeling like a small child being punished for stealing something out of the cookie jar before dinner.
-*-
Sue Sylvester would never admit it in public, but she didn’t like that Porcelain was not around anymore. She’d resigned as Principal to help him out in this painful situation and instead of getting to keep her promise she had to see Karofsky and hear his blabbering every day without being legally able to punch him in the face. If Sue Sylvester committed to something, she stuck to it. That’s what brought her so far, what had made her win so many trophies, what had made her Cheerleading Coach of the Year for as many years as she could remember being a teacher. But when it came to this one, she couldn’t do anything. It was frustrating as hell.
That dense Will Schuester probably hadn’t noticed any of it, but Sue was convinced that what happened between Porcelain and Karofsky entailed more than a simple “I’ll kill you”. If staff members could get fired for making death threats Sue would’ve been thrown out more than the McKinley football team had lost to the most pathetic low-ranking teams in Ohio. She knew well enough that this was probably not the first time Karofsky had made such a threat and she guessed Porcelain was aware of that as well. That bully was the kind of kid who would throw around “I’ll kill you”’s whenever someone beat him at a video game or tried to steal a french fry from his plate.
That utterly agonized look in Porcelain’s eyes when he sat in her office had been discouraging to watch. Former office, Sue had to remind herself with a slight stab of something that was probably due to her rigorous workouts or indigestion. Porcelain was probably in a better, safer environment right now. But there was no way he was going to just forget what had happened. Sue mused some more and cursed. He’d been a damn fine Cheerio as well. Tomorrow, she decided, she was going to look up if she could get away with caning a student without Karofsky’s parents being able to press charges against her.
-*-
About two months after Kurt’s departure, Rachel felt ecstatic when she could text Kurt with the news that McKinley had propositioned the Warblers to attend New Directions’ Pre-Regionals Invitational.
Can’t wait 2 see u, she typed frantically, sending her text before she realized how inappropriate that might have sounded.
Me neither, he answered almost immediately. She grinned.
Do u have time 2 talk? Rachel asked.
Tell me one reason why I should pry myself away from my French assignment and probably lose the whole evening, Kurt answered.
Rachel blushed fiercely and pressed dial.
-*-
Blaine never experienced an odder, crazy and more satisfying afternoon before. He, Kurt and the a small group of other Warblers walked down the halls of McKinley High, looking around and peeking inside the filled classrooms. Then there was a wild scream and a pretty blond girl in a cheerleader uniform came racing towards them - out of the corner of his eye Blaine could see David flinch, preparing to duck for cover - to practically jump all over Kurt. She was giggling and shouting things and they all looked on in utter confusion. Kurt’s face lit up with so much wild happiness Blaine couldn’t even recognize him for a moment. Sure, he knew Kurt was as upbeat, overenthusiastic and all-around bursting with energy as they come, but something in him stirred when he realized that he’d never seen this level of giddiness in his friend before. It wasn’t exactly jealousy - but it came close.
The cheerleader, whom Kurt referred to as Brittany, suddenly tugged at Kurt’s Warbler tie with such force Kurt had to gag. “Why are you wearing a Japanese businessman costume? You’re not Japanese,” she mumbled, doe-eyed and sounding sort of disappointed. Kurt composed himself, cheeks still flushed from the lack of oxygen and gently removed the tie from her grasp. “We have to wear these uniforms over at Dalton,” he clarified with a sweet smile that made Blaine’s heart melt and freeze at roughly the same time. This was going to be a really interesting afternoon.
Another cheerleader joined them, this one dark-haired and fierce. She almost had to pull Brittany off of Kurt to get a chance at hugging him. When she pecked Kurt on the cheek Blaine couldn’t do anything but notice its red hue spreading some more. “We got off practice early, can you believe it?” the girl said, taking a step back to look her friend up and down, appraising him. “And I’m so not used to seeing you in the same outfit more than once,” she added with a tilt of her head and slightly narrowed eyes. “That must be torture for you.”
Brittany gasped, putting a small hand in front of her mouth. “Are they torturing you?”
Blaine looked around at the other Warblers, who were all pretty much mimicking his own expression right now: utterly astounded. Wes was trying to keep his mouth from falling open and David kept fiddling with his tie nervously, eying the whole scene with a puzzled expression on his face.
Kurt and the two cheerleaders quickly fell into a busy conversation consisting of wild gestures, the girl named Santana interrupting the other two ostentatiously, and laughter.
“Seriously, I can’t feel my thighs anymore. And my pelvis - I don’t even want to go there,” the dark-haired cheerleader was chattering, indicating just where and how it had come to hurt during practice. “And Coach Sylvester looked so absent too,” Brittany added with a blank expression. Santana exchanged a look with Kurt, indicating that if even she had noticed it, it had to be a stone-cold fact. Their laughs filled the hallway, and even when Kurt had introduced the girls to the others - who just stood there gaping around - their conversation didn’t seem to be going to stop anytime within the next eight hours.
“…I totally appreciate what you did at Nationals last year…I mean, you did that flip while singing Celine Dion…in French, right?” Santana said, taking Kurt’s lapels in her hands.
The school bell rang and chaos ensued. A faintly melodious scream cut through the air and David prepared to run again when they saw someone else trampling down the hall towards Kurt. Blaine recognized this one’s face. It was the girl he’d seen Kurt talking to at Sectionals, Rachel.
Kurt caught her in a hug in what seemed like mid-air, and proceeded to spin her around in a dramatic but heartfelt movement. Finn Hudson, whom Blaine had already met once, clapped him on the shoulder and a goth girl was jumping up and down excitedly, asking him questions endlessly, while Kurt seemed to be talking to everyone, responding to each of their questions all at the same time. Blaine had never witnessed such an odd, all-over-the-place conversation before, and he wondered how they did it - and wondered why he felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the expression of pure delight on Kurt’s face as more and more of his friends came pouring through the hall and formed a cluster of loud and excited directionless projectiles around him.
“…missed you, sexy…” Blaine heard Santana say and his mouth fell open this time. Rachel was clutching Kurt’s hand, swinging it back and forth. At last their director, Mr. Schuester, appeared, who just barged through the unruly crowd - Blaine wondered how he didn’t even seem to mind his students so noisy and disorganized in the middle of a school hall - to hug Kurt and exchange smiles, Schuester’s affectionate and Kurt’s enthusiastic, that boggled Blaine’s mind. But then again, this was the teacher who’d driven down from Lima to Westerville to ask Kurt for gift shopping advice.
All of a sudden the group started moving as one unit and the Warblers were forced to just go with the swarm, no clue as to where they would end up now. Still fiddling with his tie, David mumbled to Wes, “This is a bizarro world, I just know it. Or another plane of reality.” Wes grunted something intelligible and Blaine chuckled, actually kind of agreeing with David there. Before they knew it they had entered what looked like a typical public school classroom, including plastic folding chairs and dingy storage closets that looked like nobody had opened them during the last decade or so. Blaine tried to sit down next to Kurt but Rachel had already slipped in front of him to take the seat, never once stopping her stream of words as Kurt nodded and laughed and tried to insert his own voice into the discussion. It went above Blaine’s head as to how one person speaking could create such a busy atmosphere, as if there were a dozen people shouting things at each other from across a football field. He’d heard Kurt talk about her overwhelming presence, sure, but experiencing it in person was a wholly different thing.
“Guys?” Mr. Schuester offered, but his command went unheard as the group buzzed on. Wes and David looked at the teacher awkwardly, feeling embarrassed for him and almost wanting to help him by whipping everyone into order, but Mr. Schuester didn’t seem to mind one bit. He chuckled, hand clasped around Kurt’s shoulder and started listening to Finn explaining to his stepbrother how absolutely awful their last football game had been.
The door of the classroom crashed open, startling nearly no one but the Warblers, and a disheveled mohawked boy came stumbling in. He was panting a bit, as if he’d just ran a mile, and his eyes were round and filled with what looked like a mix of confusion, pride and excitement. He walked over to Kurt, who was still the absolute center of attention in the room, and Santana threw him a filthy look more painful than the thrusting of a thousand daggers. “Puck!” she yelled indignantly. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry I’m late guys,” Puck said before he tried to draw in a large breath. He bumped fists with Kurt. “But my job as ambadassador called me.” Finn was opening his mouth to reply when Mr. Schuester cut in with a pointed “I didn’t hear that, Puck.” Kurt’s stepbrother however didn’t get the hint and asked, “Dude, what did you do?” Rachel sighed and prodded her boyfriend in the side.
“I totally got rid of Karofsky - well, at least for the day,” Puck said proudly, a large self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. “We couldn’t have him around our boy Kurt so I got him suspended without hurting my parole. He was in the parking lot just now, and I pretended to be slashing his tires -totally faked it, too! - and he ran up to me and started punching me in the freaking face. Coach Sylvester was hiding two rows ahead of us and she managed to shove him face-down into the gravel before he messed me up too badly. She brought him to Figgins and now he’s temporarily suspended,” the boy beamed, looking around. “It was her plan actually…but I helped.”
“Thanks, Puck, I really appreciate that,” Kurt said with a soft smile and the mohawked boy bumped fists with him again. “But with juvvie and all…you’re sure this isn’t going to end badly?”
“Nah, I took good care of the situation. Coach Sylvester scared the crap out of three guys who were on the parking lot when it happened so they will testify that I didn’t attack if it comes to that. And I made it very clear that they’d seen me actually tying up my shoelaces in front of Karofsky’s car, instead of pretending to be slashing his tires or something.”
The Cheerio named Quinn chuckled. “But you’re not wearing any shoes with laces, Puck,” she said with a snort.
“So?” the boy enquired, raising an eyebrow before sitting down next to Finn and turning towards Kurt to comment on his uniform. “That’s just crazy,” he shook his head at Kurt. “Do they control your underwear as well?”
“You went to a juvenile detention center?” David asked about forty seconds late, trying to keep his breathing steady. The corners’ of Wes’ mouth twitched, stressed.
“Oh, totally!” Puck said enthusiastically. “I’m gangster like that. I only left because they kept stealing my waffles.”
The Warblers looked on in absolute silence, stunned. They all seemed to agree that there possibly couldn’t exist any good answer to such a statement. Finn started opening his mouth to say something but Rachel cut in, standing up and waving her hand a little. The buzz in the room decreased, but only slightly. “As much as we want to keep chatting with Kurt we have to remember we are here for a reason, and that we have guests to perform for, because I don’t think we’re going to make any lasting impression before Regionals if we don’t sing.”
Blaine somehow doubted they hadn’t already made one. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Schuester?” she asked in her high-pitched, excited voice. Their director nodded and gestured vaguely, having given up hope of ever regaining control somewhere along the first five minutes. “That’s right, Rachel.” She nodded curtly, smirked self-satisfactorily and sat down again.
The afternoon was spent discovering how exactly New Directions managed to distill order and brilliance out of utter chaos. They hadn’t even decided on a song, let alone their setlist for Regionals, and the first fifteen minutes were spent chatting, shouting and even picking fights over anything but music. They all swarmed around Kurt to spill their comments and stories.
Suddenly the door opened with a loud creak and a blond woman in a red track suit poked her head inside. “Ah, the Garblers, I assume? I could smell the stuffiness from miles away. Welcome home, Porcelain,” she added and Kurt smiled. Before any of them could respond she was gone.
The group began to discuss which numbers they could perform. Aghast, the other boys heard them rant and rave about more than a dozen songs at the same time, noise reaching an all-time high as fingers were being pointed at each other, Santana threatened to punch Puck in the face - twice - and others were still chatting with Kurt as if they hadn’t even heard they had to discuss songs. Then Rachel seemed to want to grab everyone’s attention because she rose from her seat again, waving her hand in the air and yelling. Apparently that was the way to make people here listen to you. Kurt’s “I had to scream to get noticed” had apparently been meant literally, Blaine realized with a shock.
“Fellow glee clubbers, I propose Anyone Can Whistle, but you guys are free to offer other suggestions,” Rachel said, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
“The hell we are,” the Puck mumbled. “That’s such a lame emotional song. I want something hardcore, like Get Up by 50 cent or something.”
Multiple voices interjected and another brief but fierce discussion followed. Then all at once they seemed to have decided on something and Blaine marveled at the way their dramatic gestures and heated arguments disappeared like snow when the song was finally chosen. Brittany was fist-pumping randomly and Mr. Schuester grinned, telling the piano man their choice.
Because of all the noise and the brawling none of the Warblers had actually heard what New Directions was going to perform for them. Blaine started smiling when he heard the first notes of Poker Face reverberate across the room. He felt something tug at his gut when he saw Rachel pull Kurt towards the front of the class and in an instant everyone stood up and started dancing around him. There was no discussion about choreography, positions or even style. And yet they danced like they had been practicing it for weeks, like there was no tomorrow. Their chaotic but mesmerizing moves felt organic somehow. It seemed to come natural to them and they all sported a gigantic smile on their faces.
When Blaine saw Kurt’s sparkling eyes and satisfied smile he realized he hadn’t seen him this happy, ever. Not even when he was still attending McKinley. With a painful twinge Blaine understood that this sort of intense bliss, these moments, had been a big part of Kurt’s life that he hadn’t even known about. It felt bizarre that his friend was finally revealing himself to him, showing him just who he was, and that Blaine felt surprised. And now that he saw Kurt dancing, doing heel turns and twirling Quinn, Brittany and Rachel around, Blaine knew that his friend was in his element, his habitat.
And God, could he dance. The group was singing and dancing at the same time, vocals and moves pure perfection. There was no cue for someone to take the lead or even for who should do the next solo because they all dropped in whenever they felt it was right - and damn, did it work magnificently. When all of a sudden Kurt took the lead it sounded angelic, intense and powerful at the same time. The thought perfect flashed through Blaine’s mind. Blaine had to do everything to keep himself from sitting there with his mouth hanging open. Looking at the other Warblers it was obvious they were struggling with the same problem as well.
“Man, Kurt can dance,” David whispered and Wes prodded him in the side. “No, seriously, we should feature him more,” he repeated. Wes grunted in return.
Several of Kurt’s former teammates asked the Warblers to join in with their dancing but Wes stiffly summed up some rules about Invitationals and rival clubs so they stayed in their seats. Blaine wanted to punch him in the face so hard but instead kept his eyes focused on Kurt in order to contain himself.
Suddenly a few beats of Bad Romance swelled up and everyone shrieked, clapping and jumping excitedly. Kurt took the lead again, with Santana, Quinn and Rachel backing him up. The medley went on to include Paparazzi and finally Alejandro, the latter which was sung slowly and with a great deal of emotion, making it contrast with the former songs’ upbeat tempos.
Eventually everyone sat down again, chatting loudly and patting each other’s backs. Blaine knew they were probably in for another good fifteen minutes of cheerful disarray but he actually enjoyed it. He was watching Kurt, who was listening to Puck describe some sort of football move with wild gestures. Finn was laughing and Kurt almost got into a giggle fit when Puck’s swaying nearly made the boy lose his balance and fall off of the side of his chair. “Yeah, like that,” Puck commented when he’d seated himself again properly. “No, seriously, you have to fall in order for it to work.”
Santana’s voice rose above the crowd. “Kurt, since Cheerios practice got cut off early today and you do pop up tucks like no other you and I are gonna do some back flips and tucks right now. Show dem’ preppy boarding school boys what you got,” she stated matter-of-factly.
The room started cheering, making Blaine jump. “…But Kurt goes to a boarding school now,” Brittany commented. Nobody bothered to respond. Rachel started shouting in her already very familiar attention-demanding high-pitched voice. “Only if he wants to, because it’s been a while since he was a Cheerio. He’s been out of it for a while.” Rachel squeezed the boy’s hand, previous annoyance at the club’s deviation from song choice completely gone. “What do you say, Kurt?” Her voice was gentle.
“Of course. Every opportunity to do a cartwheel is a good one,” Kurt grinned and all at once Brittany, Santana and Quinn took center stage along with Kurt. It all happened so fast Blaine couldn’t even process what was happening. He’d known that Kurt had been a Cheerio but he’d never thought about what that entailed, exactly.
“Any requests?” Kurt asked with a grin, hands on his hips, the girls positioned in a triangle behind him.
Puck, Finn, Tina and several others yelled the same thing at the same time. Blaine’s ears hurt as he heard them plead for him to do Four Minutes. “Okay,” Kurt nodded at the girls and the room cheered again. When Madonna’s song started, Blaine witnessed something he’d never have believed was possible before today.
There were back flips, splits, tumbling, an extremely difficult-looking move called “the Scorpion” and some more flips while Kurt’s voice carried the whole song. Blaine and the other Dalton students were enticed and shocked at the same time. How did I never know he was so flexible? Blaine thought, biting his bottom lip. Kurt’s moves were incredible. Much too soon, Blaine thought, the song ended - the whole performance lasted about three-and-a-half minutes. They sat down again while the rest of New Directions was applauding and patting them on the back.
“Dude, seriously, how can you still do those moves?” Finn asked, genuinely puzzled and impressed. Santana answered for Kurt. “Once a Cheerio, always a Cheerio,” she stated and locked pinkies with Kurt on one side and with Brittany with her other hand. “He has awesome lips too. I dated him,” Brittany added suddenly. Blaine turned to look at the blond cheerleader, fully expecting her to be kidding, but to his horror she looked dead serious and nobody seemed to find her statement strange or even anything new. He looked at Santana imploringly and the latter nodded with a wicked smile. Blaine gulped. It was like Kurt had been leading a double life before he’d met him.
A couple of minutes later Rachel rose again, silencing the room with her high-pitched call. “Guys, look what I have in my hands,” she said as she waved around something shiny. “It’s a DVD,” she finished when nobody said anything. The room went quiet, eyes staring up at her expectantly.
“That’s not Run Joey Run, is it?” Puck suddenly asked in a disconcerted tone but Rachel smacked him on the back of the head. “Why would I carry around footage of you, Puckerman?” She asked sweetly. “Touché,” the boy replied while he rubbed the sore spot on his scalp.
“This is a compilation of some of New Directions’ greatest moments together - performances, lessons, cell phone footage and such. They’re all tiny snippets but I think it’ll be worth your while,” Rachel said with an excited grin. When she looked at Schuester the man smiled and nodded, giving her permission to put the disc in the dvd player hooked to the television at the right side of the room.
The video started with a snippet of what looked like a very spicy performance of Toxic by Britney Spears. About twenty seconds later it cut to a shaky cell cam recording of a surprisingly enjoyable version of Ice Ice Baby, with all of them dancing around Mr. Schuester in the very classroom they were sitting in right now. Then there was footage of Kurt practicing tucks and back flips for the Cheerios outside on the football field, together with Santana and Brittany.
“Hey, who filmed that?” Kurt cried with mock indignation. “I did,” Quinn purred playfully. “I had to do something when I sat there in the stadium, cursing my bump.”
A snippet of what looked like a copy of the Vogue video appeared - I put that together, Artie proclaimed proudly - which heavily featured Kurt, Mercedes and someone who looked like the blond cheerleader coach who’d briefly peeked into the room before vanishing. Blaine had no idea how they’d managed to pull off such a breathtaking rendition of Madonna’s classic. Suddenly a fragment of Four Minutes came on screen and there were multiple close-ups of Kurt dancing and generally rocking the whole assembly hall. The room started cheering again. About forty seconds later there was shaky clip of them performing Bad Romance in absolutely insane but brilliant costumes, followed by laughing and hugging and them prodding each other’s clothes in front of the camera. Situated somewhere in the back he thought he saw a person who looked like a member of Kiss.
Blaine glanced at Kurt, who wasn’t too far away from him but was still separated by two rows and more than half a dozen people. Rachel was squeezing his hand and Finn had sat down on the other side. Kurt looked intensely happy. So much so that Blaine felt something clench in his gut and he had difficulty tearing his eyes off of him to watch the video.
There appeared a fragment of Kurt racing down the hall with Tina and Artie - both in wheelchairs, Blaine saw with a start - and laughing hysterically. Then there was a duet featuring Kurt and a blond woman Puck assured the Warblers was a former student and a hot but eternally wasted cougar. Dressed-up people dancing and singing in a hall appeared on screen and Sam whispered to Blaine that it was filmed at Kurt and Finn’s parents’ wedding. Another shaky cam segment of one of New Directions’ practice sessions followed. The compilation ended with footage of Kurt and Rachel sitting in front of the class, holding hands and singing a mashup of Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy, their faces and performance living up to the name of the songs perfectly. Eventually the screen faded to black.
Besides fawning over Kurt’s performances Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about the clothes his friend had worn in the clips. They were all statement pieces, whimsical and florid, but every single outfit had obviously been meticulously put together. He’d never seen Kurt in these clothes and even when he had met up with him before the transfer Kurt seemed to have put on clothes that were much more demure than what he normally wore - and to think that Blaine already thought of his style as exorbitant back then. But he loved every single piece he had seen. The endless remarks on Kurt’s uniform earlier that day started to make sense now.
Gears started grinding in his head and soon everything started to fit together like puzzle pieces. Kurt’s personality, his optimism, his passion, his clothes. He’d only seen a little bit of Kurt during the time he’d known him - and if he was already that in love with these tiny fragments how he would feel when he knew everything? And for the first time he realized what Dalton’s uniformity was doing to Kurt, and why he had much more trouble fitting in than Blaine had expected him to. He’d only seen less than a half of Kurt not because he was hiding the rest from him, but because he just couldn’t show it to him at Dalton. And maybe he even thought he couldn’t show it to Blaine, either. In that moment Blaine realized how hard it must have been for Kurt to transfer away from this safe haven, this source of joy, even if his very life had been threatened. He finally understood and it was a very ambiguous feeling.
-*-
“I don’t get it,” Kurt murmured. He was sitting next to Blaine, their legs touching, sharing body warmth. “You’re chastising me?” He frowned.
“I am, yes. I volunteered to do it because I knew none of the other guys would go soft on you,” Blaine said as he stared at his feet. A fleeting reassuring smile appeared on his face and Kurt didn’t even know how to respond. An awkward silence followed. Blaine seemed confused at the tense atmosphere their conversation had created and Kurt got the sudden urge to yell and scream at him until he understood.
They hadn’t had a real conversation, the sort of conversation they used to have when he was still at McKinley, ever since the transfer. Kurt had no illusions that he had the energy to start one now. He didn’t even know if Blaine would ever be up for honest dialogue again. But that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach had become too painful to ignore. Kurt had made plenty of acquaintances at Dalton and when he wasn’t with Blaine he hung out with them in their dorm but that was only out of necessity. His survival instinct kicking in. Blaine was the only person resembling a genuine friend at Dalton, so here he was. He’d intended to explain what was getting him down but before he could talk, Blaine had given him the news.
“So you’re saying you didn’t want me to get hurt so you offered to punish me?” Kurt summed up, unable to meet the other boy’s eyes.
“In short…yes.” Blaine sighed and Kurt felt like the other boy didn’t have the right to do that. This was not his cross to bear, this was Kurt’s. “They really did not like that you were mingling so much, you know, with our competition.”
“They’re my friends.”
“I didn’t decide it. They - mostly Wes, actually - thought that you singing with them was akin to divulging secrets and skills or something like that, and then they counted all the times you said something inappropriate during practice, and the cell incident…so they came up with what they thought of as a proper punishment. I’m really sorry, Kurt.”
“I can’t believe this,” he said, realizing his heart was hammering so hard it hurt his chest. “A one-and-a-half-month suspension from the Warblers, nothing I did could be so bad to make me deserve that! I mean, if I miss that much I will probably not even get to come along to Regionals, right?” Kurt looked up at Blaine with desperation and confusion.
Blaine was still staring at the floor as he answered, “I’m afraid you’re right, Kurt. But don’t forget that there’s always next year. You’re a really good performer, you know that. You’ll adjust.”
“Adjust?” Kurt shrieked abruptly and with that he snapped Blaine out of his reverie. “Do you even know how much I’ve had to compromise my very existence already? Blaine, you don’t have a clue, do you? This place is dead on the inside. People here are soulless parts of a perpetually working machine that pushes everyone into conformity and disables them from developing any shred of something resembling a personality,” he rambled on, looking at Blaine in what looked like disgust. Blaine blinked, not even having been able to process that last long sentence.
“Kurt, calm down. I know you don’t mean that,” he remarked, eyes widened.
“Yes, I do mean it. I mean every single word of it. And Blaine, did you know I liked you so, so much before I enrolled here? I looked forward to spending time with you, so much so that I started pushing my own friends away for a while. I canceled appointments I’d already made a long time ago. I hurt Mercedes. And what did I get in return? When I came here I saw you for who you really are, or at least what you pretend to be, I haven’t made up my mind about that yet. But you’ve been cold, condescending and just as willing to make me repress my identity and individuality as everyone else,” he said while he gathered his things, put them in his bag and prepared to stalk off.
“Kurt, please listen to me,” Blaine offered, looking at his friend with pleading eyes. Kurt could never resist those so he decided to delay his storming out by a minute or so and nodded at Blaine curtly.
“I just wanted to make things easier for you,” Blaine said, “I had no idea how painful it was for you. But I did it because I know what is and what isn’t accepted here. I know what you’re going through so I’m trying to help you. I like you, Kurt, and I wouldn’t want anyone frowning down on you. Look at me, I blended in successfully. I just want you to be happy, too.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through!” Kurt yelled defiantly. “And I tried to assimilate, I really did. But I’ve learned a good life lesson: people will repress you no matter where you go. It can be aggressive, bold and in-your-face but it can just as well be subtle and sly.”
“Assimilate? Kurt, this isn’t a prison,” Blaine said, aghast.
“See, that’s exactly my point. It is.” Kurt slung his bag over his shoulder and left the hall. As if dramatically timed, the school bell rang to announce the start of third period. Blaine didn’t move for a while and kept on staring at the floor while random fragments of ideas continued to fry his already muddled mind.
-*-
Britt wanted 2 talk 2 u but she took a shower with her clothes still on and ruined her cell. Anyway, she misses u. And I do too, sexy. xx Santana
Kurt kept staring at the text he’d just gotten, unable to fight the smile forming on his face.
He was still boiling inside because of Blaine and his suspension, but somehow his friends always managed to soothe his wounds.
I am so coming over to murder that idiot and that stupid council too. I MEAN IT. - Mercedes
Kurt somehow didn’t doubt she meant it.
Mom is going to make her famous roast on Friday, so please pretend like you love it even if you don’t. She’s very proud of her roast. And wth did I just hear from Mercedes about ur club? R they stupid? Finn
He had to restrain himself from sending back a message that stated that they were indeed stupid.
If you need help suing the club I’m already talking 2 my dads - they suspended you while you won Sectionals for them, so that HAS to be illegal. Also, can I have Blaine’s cell number? Xoxo Rachel
With a chuckle, Kurt texted her back, repressing the urge to give her Blaine’s number and revel in the knowledge that she was going to scream at him on the phone all day long. But in the end he decided even Blaine didn’t deserve that.
-*-
Kurt felt like too much of a mess to study. He was ready to toss his textbook in the hearth and plant his face into one of the leather dorm couches around him. And maybe pass out for a while. Yes, that’d probably feel good.
Blaine’s sudden arrival however ruined his plans. Kurt was reminded of their fight yesterday, and of how his friend had come to him with a bouquet of pink Lilium - one of his favorite flowers - and said something about surprising him as an apology later that evening. Kurt didn’t even know how he could have bought flowers on such short notice, let alone such exotic ones. But he hadn’t questioned it at the time because he was still furious.
The morning after it had dawned on him that Blaine had been gone all day after their fight and that these were probably connected facts. Eventually Blaine had told him he’d driven down to Lima to ask Mr. Schuester if it was legally possible for Kurt to join in on New Directions’ practices from now on. When he heard his friend utter those words, Kurt’s heart leapt and he jumped up to hug him, angry or not. Apparently Schuester had been able to talk the school board into letting Kurt be able to turn up during practice and participate as a “visitor”. Schuester had been interrupted by coach Sylvester when Blaine was there and she had apparently sworn on her complete trophy collection that she’d make sure Karofsky would be suspended whenever Kurt would turn up. “I didn’t hear that,” Schuester had said and then continued his discussion with Blaine.
So here they were. Kurt felt ambiguous - liking the effort and thought Blaine had put into making him feel more comfortable, but weary because he was not going to forget how painful his time at Dalton had been up until now.
“Hey,” Blaine said with a tentative grin.
“Hi,” Kurt replied, closing his textbook. However much he tried, the bitter taste in the back of his mouth didn’t leave. “How was practice?”
“Okay. Not as good without you,” Blaine said, sitting down next to Kurt and winking. Kurt chuckled and moved closer. For a short while, Kurt thought, he would just have to repress the agony and indulge in the fantasy Blaine and Dalton became from time to time. There were moments were Kurt wanted to hit Blaine or cry into his pillow at night, but there were flashes of happiness too - mostly when Blaine’s attitude shifted from confused idiot into affectionate more-than-friend territory again, just like today. Maybe he would just have to cling to those memories and hope they formed a basis for a better future. And, on the other hand, having been kicked out of the Warblers meant that he could visit McKinley and sing with his friends from time to time, which would make things much more bearable.
Blaine suddenly leaned in to press his lips against Kurt’s. He eagerly responded in what became an increasingly animalistic kiss, full of hunger, fire, need, and a tad of anger and bitterness. Kurt thought it was very appropriate that their first kiss happened like this and pulled back abruptly, surprising Blaine. The other boy obviously wanted more but Kurt decided he was not going to get more from him that day. Kurt casually opened his textbook again, gathering a pen and paper to finish his notes as Blaine kept staring at him in shock.
Blaine had taken a good stride on the road to forgiveness, but he wasn’t there yet. Out of the corner of his eye Kurt could see the smirk on Blaine’s face that made it clear his friend understood. Just a few days ago Blaine had discovered that there was an infinitely larger amount of layers he had to peel off of Kurt to get to the core. The faint smile on Blaine’s face indicated that he understood why it was only fair that he had to dig deeper before he could really have Kurt. It was obvious that he couldn’t wait to do so.
All of a sudden Kurt’s cell buzzed. He picked it up hastily, only to discover he’d missed more than eight calls from Mercedes, Finn, Tina and Rachel combined.
Lookin’ forward to seeing our sexy visitor again, Santana’s text read.
Breadstix at eight this Friday? Finn, Sam, Mike and Tina are sure they’re gonna be there, Mercedes had sent him.
Blaine-guy treating u well? What he did was sweet but he’s not off the hook yet. Can I have his cell? Rachel inquired. Kurt chuckled at the realization of how like-minded Rachel and he were being at the moment, and how he was going to get through all of this in no small part due to his friends. Blaine sat next to him on the couch, twiddling his thumbs, while Kurt responded to each and every message leisurely.