Fic: Esse Quam Videri (1/?)
TITLE: Esse Quam Videri
AUTHOR: TheJadeSabre923
RATING: PG-13 (R overall)
GENRE: AU, Drama, Romance
PAIRING: Klaine
WARNINGS: mentions of bullying, some homophobic language
WORD COUNT: 2,123
SUMMARY: In order to pad his NYADA resume, Kurt agrees to be a french tutor for Blaine Anderson, an new Junior transfer to McKinley. BadBoy!Blaine, with some disregard to parts of seasons 2 and 3.
A/N: The other day, I read what_larks’ post about her thoughts on BadBoy!Blaine, specifically how BadBoy!Blaine is often SexualHarassment!Blaine or SexualAssault!Blaine. Then BAM! This little plot bunny of a BadBoy!PunkAss!Blaine came about.
Kurt Hummel knew senior year was going to be magical. Azimio and Karafsky had graduated in the spring and the ACLU had worked with his dad and other parents from McKinley to force Principle Figgins to remove the slushie machine from the cafeteria as well as create a stricter anit-bullying policy. While he still received “accidental” locker shoves and muttered verbal harassment, he didn’t need to keep a spare outfit in his locker anymore.
Most importantly, this year was all about getting into NYADA. He had just landed the role of Tony in the fall production of West Side Story and was polling well in the race for Senior class president. His class schedule was packed with advanced placement courses. In fact, Kurt found himself enjoying AP French more than any other class he had taken in his entire four years at McKinley. To familiarize themselves with french culture and to practice sight reading, their teacher had them spend half of class every Monday reading a french magazine or newspaper. Kurt just liked that he had a legitimate excuse to read Vogue Paris during lessons.
“M. Hummel, pourrias-tu rester après la classe, s'il vous plaît?” Could you please stay after class? requested Mme. Ricci.
While the rest of French 5 (all six other students) filed out, Kurt stood awkwardly by Mme. Ricci’s desk.
“A few weeks ago, you told me that you signed up to be a peer tutor,” said Mme. Ricci, removing a red folder from a desk drawer. Kurt nodded. “Well, I have a student for you to work with. Can you meet after school today?”
“Not for long,” said Kurt. “I’ve got glee rehearsal.”
Mme. Ricci waved her hand. “It should only take five or ten minutes. Just to get the two of you acquainted and a study schedule set up. Also, we need to set up a time for the two of us to meet every week so you can keep me updated on the sessions and so I can give you extra materials.”
“Ok.”
“So I will see you here at 2:30?”
“Oui. À cet après-midi, madame,” Yes. See you this afternoon, said Kurt filing past the French 1 students entering.
“À bientôt.” See you later.
Kurt smiled, as he switched out books at his locker and grabbed his lunch.
“What are you so smiley about?”
Kurt peered around his locker. “I am officially a french tutor, Cedes.”
“I thought you signed up for that program three weeks ago?”
“I did. But after class today, Mme. Ricci assigned me someone to actually work with. I’m working out the details after school today. Which reminds me,” said Kurt clicking the lock on his locker shut. “Can you tell Mr. Shue I might be a few minutes late for rehearsal today?”
It was 2:50 and Kurt was still waiting in Mme. Ricci’s classroom for the boy he was supposed to to tutor to show up. They had agreed to meet during lunch every Wednesday and she had given him a copy of the French 3 textbook to use. Currently, Kurt was reading his Vogue, glancing at the clock every few seconds and finding himself getting more and more annoyed.
“I’m sorry, Kurt,” apologized the french teacher. “You can leave if you want to.”
“He has until I finish this,” he said, gesturing to the interview with Jean Dujardin. “Then I do need to go.”
He had begun to pack up his satchel, when the door to the french classroom opened.
“Thank you for joining us, M. Anderson.” The french teacher’s welcome was cold and curt.
“Yeah, well, not like I particularly want to be here,” drawled Blaine. With his greased hair, leather bomber, and fuck-it-all attitude, Blaine Anderson was like nothing William McKinley High had seen for quite some time. Not to mention the facial piercing he sported, an eyebrow ring, despite them being against dress code.
Puck could claim be a badass, having spent time in juvie, but he was still a jock and had this Middle America vibe about him. Blaine was different; he was legitimately angry at the world, acting as if he was too cool for the entire town and being there was physically painful. Kurt supposed it had to be, given the rumors flying around about him.
What he did know was that Blaine was the nephew of Jim Walsh, who owned a local hardware store, and, according to Burt, was originally from New York City. According to Jim, Blaine’s father had had enough of his attitude and hoped that some time in Ohio would straighten him out.
Kurt couldn't blame him; if he had being living in New York, moving to Lima would sure piss him off.
“Your attendance is a testament to that, M. Anderson. This is Kurt; he’ll be your french tutor.”
Blaine gave him a once over with his eyes. “I don’t need a tutor.”
“Your grades say otherwise.”
Since it got out that he had been sent here from New York, the entire student body had been speculating what exactly had got him exiled to Lima. While there were some reasonable ones (his parents died), most were more outlandish than the next. He was a drug dealer; he was in witness protection, he had beaten a kid within an inch of his life and was on the run from the law. Each one seemed more ridiculous than the next.
Of course, Blaine did nothing to help dispel those rumors. A couple of hockey players had shoved him into a locker the first week. Although no one could say for certain who gave Rick the Stick a black eye the next day, the jocks no longer messed with him. It was also rummored that Blaine had been the one responsible for puncturing all of the PE department’s balls; for that, Kurt was thankful since it put a moratorium dodge ball in gym.
“Fine,” he huffed, sitting in the empty chair.
“So Blaine, I was telling Kurt that I want you two to meet for two hours every week, after the next test, I’ll reassess the time commitment. And Blaine,” she added. “This is not optional.”
Blaine was a notorious truant, skipping more classes than Puck. Indeed, if someone wanted to find him during the day, the best bet would be to look under the bleachers; he was often there, hanging with the skanks and chain smoking. Though it wasn’t as if they were his friends; he was more of a loner than Kurt was his freshman year. In fact, Blaine was hardly ever seen without a pair of earbuds in he ears, including during classes. Kurt supposed that he was lucky that he wasn’t wearing them now.
“Uh huh.”
“Kurt, I know that your busy between glee club and play practice. Could the two of you meet half an hour before school four days a week?” Kurt took a moment to think about it before nodding his head. Blaine just shrugged his shoulders. “Great, that’s all I needed to say. Do the two of you have any questions?”
“No,” said Kurt. Blaine once again shrugged his shoulders.
“Ok then,” said Mme. Ricci. “I will see the two of you tomorrow. Au revoir. Kurt,” she called out as the two boys left the room. “Sì il cause des problèmes á te, dis moi.” If he cause trouble for you, tell me.
“Je dirai,” I will replied Kurt, following Blaine out of the classroom.
3 o’clock. Kurt rushed to his locker to grab the rest of his belongings only to fine Blaine waiting there. “What are you doing here?”
“My locker is right over there, tutor,” he replied, gesturing to the end of the row. His cocky attitude combined with his lateness caused Kurt to flip.
“Listen, Anderson.” He twisted around, point a finger at Blaine’s chest. “The only reason I’m doing this is to get into the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts.”
“I thought seeing a pupil succeed was supposed to be the reward of teaching,” he mocked.
“Just be there on time tomorrow. I’m already half an hour late for glee club thanks to you.”
Blaine snorted. “Glee club?”
Kurt slammed his locker shut. “I don’t have to justify myself to you of all people.”
With that he stormed off towards the choir room. He was so annoyed that didn’t even try to be quiet when he entered, which probably would have been a good idea. The New Directions all stared at him after he threw open the door and it was then he realized that Rachel had been in the middle of some song or another.
“Sorry I’m late Mr. Shue. Things ran long with Mme. Ricci.”
Shue nodded as Kurt took his seat, gesturing for Rachel to restart her song.
“I thought you were only going to be a few minutes late,” whispered Tina.
“I would have been if Blaine freaking Anderson could show up on time,” he shot back, noting her raised eyebrows. “Yeah I’m tutoring Blaine Anderson in french. Just shoot me now.”
Mr. Shue cleared his throat and sent a chastising look to the two of them. Tina gave him a shy smile and Kurt took that as a cue to shut up.
The next morning, Kurt awoke, resolved to make the best of his tutoring situation. He arrived at the library at 7:30 the next morning, mocha in hand. Finn had complained about going in early, but Kurt had bribed him with chocolate chip scones so he quickly acquiesced. Taking the French 3 text out, he patiently waited for Blaine to come.
When the 8 o’clock bell rang, he gathered his books and left for homeroom, silently fuming. While part of of him felt like an idiot, he mostly was angry that his time had been wasted.
It wasn’t until midway through first period rolled around he had calmed down. Kurt decided that he would tell Mme. Ricci that Blaine had not shown up for his session and ask for him to be assigned a new tutor. She had been clear that truancy would not be tolerated and explained to him that he should not put up with it.
When his free period rolled around, Kurt found himself at the same library table working on a problem set for Pre-Calculus. He had french afterwards would tell madame his decision then. Hearing a chair being pulled out, only he looked up to see Blaine plopping down across from him, pulling a pair of earbuds out of his ears. Kurt raised an eyebrow, surprised that he couldn’t make out the music Blaine was listening to (he had always assumed it was something loud and rockish).
“We were supposed to meet this morning, Anderson,” he said. “Where were you?”
“I was busy,” Blaine shrugged, switching off his iPod.
“Selling pot behind the school?”
“No, blowing guys behind the Walmart for a fifty a pop.“
Oh god,” Kurt huffed.
“Honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay,” said Blaine nonchalantly, propping his head up. “It wasn’t my first choice, but the Lima Bean required you to conjugate the subjunctif passé of savior.”
Kurt gathered his books in a huff. “That’s not funny. I’m busy enough as it is; I don’t have time for you not to take this seriously.”
“It was just a joke, Monsieur Dindon,” said Blaine, grabbing Kurt’s arm as he stormed by. Kurt shot the boy a look of confusion and hurt. He didn’t know if Blaine had realized how preposterous, yet unnerving his last statement had been. Surprisingly, Blaine seemed to realize his mistake. “I just mean you need to loosen up a bit, that all. The period just started; we can work on it now.”
“You have a free period?”
“Free period, U.S. history, is there really a difference? Come on, I even brought my french book,” said Blaine, removing the blue book from his backpack.
“You’re being a lot more reasonable than you were yesterday,” said Kurt warily.
“Yeah, if the teachers at this back ass school didn’t treat me like I was a walking bomb threat,” he scoffed, “Maybe I’d more receptive to them.”
Despite all of Blaine’s issues, what he said was true; most of the faculty at the school had taken one look at him and designated him as a troublemaker. Personally, Kurt wondered if Blaine’s actions were an effect of their assumptions or their assumptions were an effect of Blaine’s actions.
“Fine let’s do this,” he sighed, plopping into the chair next to Blaine and flashed him a smile despite himself. “If you’re not going to go to class, you might as well do something useful.”
“That’s the spirit, Enjolras. “
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