There's Something Wrong With Blaine (2/3)
Title: There's Something Wrong With Blaine (2/3)
Author: mothergoddamn & rebness
Pairing/characters: Blaine/Kurt, Finn Hudson and Puck.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Finn is an easygoing guy who believes the best in everyone. But when Blaine Anderson begins to ingratiate himself into the Hudmels' lives, he can't ignore the strange events that occur. Just what exactly is wrong with Blaine? And can Finn save Kurt?
Previous: 1
There's Something Wrong With Blaine
Chapter 2
‘I can’t believe that it didn’t work,’ Finn muttered, stalking across Puck’s bedroom.
‘Maybe it wasn’t holy enough?’ Puck said as he strummed at the string of his guitar lazily.
‘Are you kidding? I said, like, a million prayers in that thing. I even dunked in a Taylor Swift album. Trust me, that was one holy slushee,’ Finn ceased his pacing and let out a disgruntled sigh. ‘And now both Rachel and Kurt are pissed at me, I’m suspended from the team and I owe my mom fifteen bucks for a new Taylor Swift album.’
Puck played a few chords, his brows furrowed in thought. ‘Listen, dude, are you--’
‘Yes! He’s a vampire, okay! He has to be.’ Finn hugged himself tight, a sudden chill kissing at the nape of his neck. ‘He’s definitely a vampire.’
‘Vampyre,’ Puck said solemnly. ‘It’s pronounced vampyre.’
‘That’s-- dude, that’s totally what I’m saying!’
Puck held up his hand. ‘And yet I can’t hear the Y,’ he said whimsically.
‘Why what?’
‘What?’
‘The Y.’
‘The why?’
‘What?’
‘The why of what?’
‘Why-‘ Finn threw up his hands in frustration. ‘For fuck's- will you just listen to me, Puck! He-- he sparkles.’
‘What? Like that Cullen guy with the face like an iron?’
‘Yes! Last week he got a shower at ours, right? And he came out sparkling and smelling like strawberries and-Oh, wait. Kurt does that sometimes, too.’ Finn tapped his lip. ‘Okay, the sparkling might be the body wash. I’ll look into that. But, that doesn’t mean he isn’t a blood-sucking fiend from hell.’
‘Then how come he can go around during the day and crap? Shouldn’t he be one crispy fry by now?’
‘Yeah, but iron face can do that, too. The douche.’
Puck watched him carefully. ‘You Team Jacob or Edward, bro?’
‘I am not having this debate again, Puck! Find me an answer!’
‘Maybe we’re out of answers. Maybe there is no answer!’
‘There are always answers,‘ said Finn scornfully. ‘It’s just that we never know what they are.‘ He pounded his fist. ‘We just need to try more things. Something more subtle than a holy slushee to the face. Oh! You got a crucifix?’
Puck stared at him.
‘Or your mom or something?’
‘Are you serious, man?’
Finn fluttered his hands at him. ‘Okay, okay, I get it, you’re not religious, geez. No need to be mean about it.’
Scowling, Puck didn’t answer him. He shoved past his friend and reached for something on the desk.
‘Look, I went back to the library and the old gal there gave me these.’ Puck reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a collection of large and dust covered books. ‘They always have these things in horror movies and that. This exactly what we need.’
‘This is great!’ Finn joined him on the bed, picking up one entitled VAMPYRE and trying to ignore Puck’s pointing and raised brow. He turned to the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
‘God, this is taking forever.’
‘I know, right?’ Puck slammed his own book shut. ‘Know what we need?’ He gave a slow smile. ‘What do Buffy, Veronica Mars and Supernatural have in common?’
‘They should have been cancelled earlier?’
‘Hot nerds.’ Puck grabbed his shoulder, giving him a little shake. ‘We need a hot nerd!’
‘Oh? Oh! Like the red head chick from band camp? And, was it Mack or something? And--’
‘Bobby.’ Puck glanced off dreamily. ‘Yeah.’
‘Exac-- wait, what?’
‘Anyway, that’s why we can’t read this crap. We need a hot nerd to do it for us and then we go kick its ass.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Finn scratched at his chin. ‘I have the perfect hot nerd! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Damn right, I am,’ Puck pushed the book off his lap and leapt up. ‘Let’s go get him.’
‘You really think she’ll-- wait, him? Don’t you mean her?’
‘Sure, of course I meant her. What the-- Clearly, I meant her. Like, dude.’ Puck hastily began doing bench presses. ‘Gotta get me to the gym. So I can bag a hot girl, not anything gay.’
‘Oh-kay,’ Finn said. ‘Well, we’ll see Tina and--’
‘Tina! Of course! Tina’s the perfect choice.’
‘--see if she can help. She’s probably a Wiccan or something.’
Puck nodded, adjusting his groin and letting loose a belch. ‘Maybe we can swing by Artie’s on the way, though,’ he said as they left the room. ‘Just to say hi?’
*
Tina frowned and stared at Puck again. ‘I’m sorry. Say that again?’
‘He didn’t mean it like that,’ began Finn. ‘You’re not weird.’
‘Dude,’ said Puck, ‘I got this.’ He slicked back his Mohawk. ‘It’s just that you understand all weird crazy shit and I think we got us a real load of crazy shit. You know, like Wicker.’
‘Wiccan.’
‘Babe, I’m pretty sure it was called the Wicker Man.’
‘It was,’ she said acidly.
‘I know,’ said Puck. He tapped his head. ’Whole lotta useless facts stored in ol’ Puckerman’s head. And so we thought, who do we know who’s passably hot and a big ol’ nerd. And we thought of you.’
‘So will you help us?’ asked Finn quickly.
‘…No.’
*
‘What’s up with you?’ whispered Rachel in Finn’s ear. ‘You’ve been so moody tonight.’
‘I’m not moody,’ he muttered moodily.
‘Yes-- yes, you are!’ she protested. ‘Everyone’s noticed.’
He looked around the diner table. Sure enough, his family and That were staring at him. ‘What?’ he asked, shoving a buffalo wing into his mouth.
‘You’re not eating well, are you?’ said Kurt.
‘I’ve eaten , like, a bucket.’
‘Oh my gosh,’ said Rachel. ‘Are you ill? Finn, you have to eat.’
‘Stop it! So I only ordered one bucket! Leave me the hell alone--!’
Burt slapped his hand on the table. ‘Finn, I know you’re sick right now, but I won’t have cussing in front of your mother.’
‘I’m not sick! Look, look, I’ll eat this whole goddam-- uh… gosh-darn bird.’
‘There’s no need to,’ said Carole, sniffing.
Blaine raised a hand to his chin and rested his head there. ‘Go for it, son.’
‘I’m not your son!’
‘It’s a figure of speech, you dolt!’ said Kurt. ‘Like you eating a bird.’
‘I will eat the bird.’
‘Sure.’
‘All of it!’
‘Even its beak?’ said Blaine.
‘Even its beak.’
Rachel began to sob. ‘Finn! Its poor beak!’
‘There isn’t a god--gosh-darn beak!’ he snapped.
‘Real men don’t need to eat birds to prove they’re men,’ said Burt, frowning.
‘Yeah, after all, I could eat a bird, too,’ said Blaine. ‘I’m just comfortable in my masculinity.’
‘I am!’
‘Good for you.’
‘Right!’ said Finn. ‘Right! You order a bird and we’ll have an eat-off.’
Kurt wrinkled his nose. ‘You’re such a barbarian sometimes.’
‘I’m inclined to agree,’ said Rachel, hiccoughing in panic.
Blaine grinned. ‘Come at me, Finn. Let’s do this.’
‘Blaine?’ Kurt frowned and laced his fingers with Blaine’s. ‘We talked about this, remember. Don’t let him rile you up.’
‘Oh, come on, Kurt,’ Blaine said, a teasing note in his voice. ‘It’s just a bit of fun. Isn’t it, Finn?’
‘Yeah,’ Finn muttered, narrowing his eyes. ‘Fun.’
‘And I’m sure that-Oh, my Gosh! Is that Liza Minnelli over by the salad bar?’ gasped Blaine.
Rachel spun around in her chair and threw Kurt to the floor. ‘I saw her first! Liza! Liza, it’s me! Your biggest fan!’
Burt shoved them both aside. ‘Liza! Sing Cabaret!’
Finn hated Cabaret. And Liza Minnelli. And all that stupid stuff. He was on a mission. Just the two legs to go now and he’d show that stupid Blaine.
Grunting, he looked over at Blaine.
And froze.
Blaine’s eyes, usually an inscrutable colour Kurt called ‘hazel’ but Finn called ‘mud-brown and crap’, seemed the very essence of black, taking in no light, reflecting nothing. Finn blinked in confusion.
‘Watch this, Finnegan,’ he positively hissed.
He lowered his head toward the table and pulled the chicken nearer. To Finn’s horror, his jaw seemed to dislocate itself, opening impossibly wide, to swallow the entire chicken in one go. It lodged in his throat, like in all those cartoons Finn got up early to watch on Saturdays, and then he swallowed, crushing it with his neck muscles before the lump disappeared into his torso.
Finn whimpered.
‘Now,’ said Blaine. ‘Who’s the real man here?’
Finn mechanically reached out for a chicken wing, never taking his eyes from Blaine. He was dimly aware of his family -- his precious, tender, salty family -- returning to the table.
Burt growled. ‘Well, that Japanese businessman will never forgive us for the football tackle.’
‘I think he appreciated my outfit,’ said Rachel. ‘He gave me his card and hotel room key.’ She frowned at her hand. ‘What’s loli?’
Carole shrieked in horror. ‘Finn! Did you eat Blaine’s chicken? You greedy boy!’
Finn glanced at her, swallowing in panic.
Uh-oh.
The chicken wing caught in his throat. He gagged and gasped as Rachel, ever the star, screeched in his ear and attempted to wrap her arms around his torso to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. In the panicked rush as his family attempted to help him, as Burt grabbed him and patted his back so he could cough up the food, he could not take his eyes from Blaine.
He felt the chicken dislodge and, despite Carole’s disgusted exclamation, he swallowed rather than spat it out. He snarled at Blaine as his nemesis slowly leaned forward to help him.
‘Sit down, Blaine!’
Blaine sat back in his seat, affecting a hurt look. ‘Calm down, Finlet.’
‘My name’s not Finlet--’
‘Did you just tell Blaine to sit down?’ hissed Kurt. ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’
‘Kurt, did you just cuss?’ snapped Burt. ‘Finn, you stop telling people to sit down! Kurt, you stop cussing! Blaine, you stand up or sit down, whatever you want.’ He sat down in his own chair. ‘I’m sitting down because I want to, by the way. Not because someone told me to.’ He took a bite out of a buffalo wing, daring any of them to speak. Nobody did.
A tremble was settling over Finn’s body and hysteria began to beat in a steady drum in his mind, begging to be let in. Wanting with all his being not to, his eyes met the other boy’s, passing by the empty basket, rising past the thumb that was stroking at Kurt’s knuckles in soft, soothing circles, past the throat that had taken on an entire bird like it was a crumb and to his face. That evil, souless face.
Slowly, Blaine smiled. And licked his lips.
*
‘I’ll never look at buffalo wings the same way again,’ whispered Rachel huskily.
‘Me neither,’ said Finn morosely.
‘I know it’s cruel and they’re farmed in the most inhumane conditions -- chickens, I mean, not buffalo. B-but maybe buffalo, too. But you’re such a man, Finn Hudson. You tore into that challenge like Javert--’
‘Like a python. Or whichever the one is that opens its jaw ten miles wide,’ muttered Finn. ‘That one.’
Rachel moved across his bed, and nuzzled his ear seductively. ‘Finn Hudson, you’re my hero.’
‘And the look in his eyes,’ whispered Finn.
Rachel pulled back. ‘Finn, I’m trying to-create something here. What are you talking about?’
‘Blaine.’
She gaped. ‘You’re thinking about Blaine while I’m giving myself, body and soul, to you?’ She sat back, crossing her arms. ‘Really, Finn. I wanted to-I need to talk to you about something. About us.’
‘Vampires don’t eat chicken,’ Finn mused. ‘Not bloodless chicken, anyway, so he must be something else.’
‘As you know, I am the lead in the school play, and Maria is not only an inspiring and defining feminine role for an ingénue such as myself but it is--- It’s a role about blossoming. About awakening.’
‘Maybe some sort of...vampire lion?’
‘It’s about the cusp of young love, standing upon the edge of adulthood and the experiences that are just within their tender young grasp.’ She grasped at Finn’s hand and pulled it to her chest. ‘Don’t you want to take that leap, Finn. Jump with me, Finn!’
‘What? Onto Blaine?’ He paused. ‘Do you think that will work?’
‘What on Earth are you-Finn, are you even listening?’
‘I, uh, yeah. Totally. We need to jump onto tender, young ingénues-er and-‘ Finn’s pocket burst into life, throwing out a merry tune and stealing Finn away from Rachel’s glare of anger. ‘My cell’s ringing.’
‘Don’t you change the subject when we are having a lover’s tiff!’ she protested.
‘But my cell’s ringing.’ He looked at the caller display. Puck. ‘Just a second. It’s important.’
‘This isn’t important?’
‘Rachel. Just hold that pose. One second.’ He picked up the call. ’Talk to me.’
‘You’re so gay, Jerry Maguire.’
‘Dude, Rachel’s got the insults covered tonight.’ Rachel glanced down, seemingly surprised to see Finn’s hand still cusping at her breast. She batted it away roughly. ‘What you got?’
‘I found out why he’s after Kurt.’
‘Wait, what?’ he asked, sitting up straight. ‘Blaine?’
‘Blaine!’ said Rachel joyfully.
Finn spun around, alarmed to see Blaine standing in the doorway. ‘Blaine.’
‘Yeah, Blaine?’ said Puck. ‘Anyway, I did some digging, like super cool MI5 digging.’
Finn eyed Blaine warily as he moved into the room and began to ohh and ahh over Rachel’s plaid skirt. ‘How?’ he whispered, his hand curling around the television remote. One jaw unhinge around Rachel and he was going to get a mouthful of cheap plastic.
‘No time for that dull exposition crap,’ Puck said. ‘Listen! It’s like, did you see Benjamin Button?’
‘No!’ sneered Finn. ‘Who’s the gay one, now?’ Blaine looked up at that, mid French plaiting Rachel’s hair, and the fire in his gaze made Finn almost shrink back. Almost, because Puck was onto something. Maybe something that would stop him once and for all.
‘Shut up! It was totally great. You know how he gets younger?’
‘No?’
‘This is a bad example. Peter Pan!’
‘He’s a paedo?’ Well. That would explain the dress sense.
‘No, no. Like… oh, Lost Boys! That’s it! Yeah, but not as badass and a bit more dated. I’m on fire tonight, Finn, whoo boy! Anyway, he’s freakishly free of frown lines, not like us. And I’m certain that Kurt said he was a senior when he first went to that Eton thing.’
Finn frowned, as if a memory was straining to be found in his mind. ‘That does sound familiar.’
‘So I Googled and I-‘
‘You Googled?’ Finn interrupted
‘Dude, stop killing the tension.’
‘But what would you even type into the search engine to-‘
‘Shut up! Look, I came across all freaky stuff, but mostly stuff about these killings, Finn. Killings all across America, every seven years.’
‘He’s Jeepers Creepers!’ whispered Finn into the phone. Blaine didn’t react, didn’t give him any indication he had heard, as he whispered into Rachel’s ear and she giggled coquettishly.
‘Not really, but kinda. All these gay men who died were aged 15-21, all totally lame ass virgins that hadn’t a chance in hell of getting laid.’
‘Oh, that-that sucks?’
‘Yeah, but before they died, right? They all got boyfriends. Like out of their league, total dream boaty and sexy boyfriends. That sounds like someone we both know right?’
‘Hey, you’re being a little unfair, there. And I wouldn’t exactly say he was sex-‘
‘So, these virgins? They were found, like, all super old and dusty. Like they had aged sixty years over night. And the devastated boyfriend?’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Gone. Never to be seen again.’
Finn watched as Blaine spun his girlfriend round the room, reciting lines from West Side Story and eyes on anywhere but him. ‘But how does any of that prove-‘
‘Sadie Hawkins 2004,’ said Puck. ‘The last one has a picture of the missing virgin and his Sadie Hawkins date.’ He swallowed. ‘Finn, the kid in the picture was Blaine. ’
Finn gripped the cell tight, and tried to keep his voice even. ‘What are you telling me, here?’
‘That we need to keep Kurt away from this fuck until we figure out how to gank him. He must be doing some sort of crazy, incubus like, youth sucking--’ Puck paused. ‘Sorry, I just got overwhelmed with, like, a thousand jokes.’
‘Puck!’
‘Yeah, sorry. Anyway. We need to keep them apart.’ Puck made a clucking noise. ‘Maybe I should de-virginise him. Kurt, I mean. Maybe that will do the trick?’
‘What the-‘
‘No need to thank me. Just trying to help out.’
‘Yeah, I don’t think that-‘ Finn turned to Rachel and Blaine, and was pleased to see that Blaine had finally slunk out. Good. ‘I don’t think Kurt will go for that somehow.’
‘He has eyes, doesn’t he?’ Puck’s voice lowered. ‘Eyes sort of like the Pacific ocean. Like waves washing sweetly over an ivory shore in the calm of morning.’
‘What?’
‘I’m saying I can bang him for you. Get him off Blaine’s radar. I can be over in about forty minutes. Put him in those tight, black jeans with the low waist and that Flashdance shirt thing he has. You know, the one that shows off the curve of his neck.’
‘I’m not pimping my brother out to you!’
‘Wait, there’s the door,’ said Puck. ‘Aw man, pizza nights rock!’
‘I don’t care about your pizza,’ said Finn. ‘The point is, we --’ Finn moved the phone away from his ear as the clumping sound of Puck’s feet on the stairs sang out. A door squeaked open.
‘Hey, man-wait--’ gasped Puck. ‘What are you--’
The call dropped.
Finn pulled his cell away and stared at it in confusion. He hit redial. The line rang out.
*
‘-And then, and then I was thinking that if I bend over like so-like, this, Finn, and then,’ Rachel gave a little shake of her rear and looked at him from between her knees, ‘do that. It’s not too provocative is it?’
‘I, uh, it seems to be a rather eccentric rendition of My Heart Will Go On. I’m not sure that Mr. Schue will go for it for Sectionals. And all that finger sucking is making the lyrics a bit hard to understand.’ Finn tried to keep his focus on his girlfriend, but his entire being was fused with worry for Puck. Why wasn’t he answering? Had something happened?
‘Finn,’ Carole’s voice called upstairs. ‘Door!’
Finn leapt up at the sound of her voice. ‘I’ll just be a sec-mmmph.’ Rachel’s lips smacked into his, and her fingers twined deep into his hair as her tongue dug roughly into his mouth. The kiss was long, deep and dirty. He blinked as she pulled away, her eyes all hooded and eyelashes blinking rapidly.
‘Hurry back, lover,’ she whispered.
He nodded dumbly, starting in fright when she slapped at his rear hard. Man, he thought as he made his way down the stairs, girls are so hard to read sometimes.
‘Who is it?’ Finn asked as he reached the bottom step. ‘Because I got totally super impo-‘ His words died off as his mother moved aside to show Puck at the doorway. ‘Wait? How did-‘
‘I took a short cut!’ Puck grinned widely. ‘I was just talking to your charming, younger sister here.’ He winked and Carole swatted him on his arm with an affectionate giggle.
‘Now, now, Puck. Let’s not start that again.’ She shot Finn a look, and then moved forward conspiratorially. ‘I think about that night all the time. Such prowess, such animal magnetism, such surprising flex-‘
‘Mom?’ Finn interrupted. ‘Could you go fix us a snack?’
‘What? Oh, sure, honey.’ Carole blushed, and straightened. Patting at her hair self-consciously, she smiled at Puck and waggled her fingers as she went.
Once she was gone, Finn turned back to Puck and appraised him silently.
'I-- you've gelled your mohawk back?'
Puck nodded, a sombre expression on his face. 'Affirmative, dear friend. A gentleman should always dress dapper, shouldn't he?'
‘Is that a suit? Have your ironed creases into the trousers?’
‘Thank you for noticing! It’s actually a permanent crease. I would be most happy to enlighten you on how to do this. First, we will need a block of wood, a wet cloth and-‘ At that moment, Kurt flounced past, laundry basket in his hands. 'A good day to you, Kurt!' said Puck cheerily.
'Don't start, you sarcastic dick,' muttered Kurt.
Puck shook his head. 'Most unedifying. And rather uncalled for.'
'It was a bit called for,' said Finn, scowling. Looking at Kurt warily, Finn turned back to Puck. ‘Uh, wanna play GTA? Upstairs, I mean. Where we can talk? Alone.'
Puck pinched his nose. 'Mr. Hudson, I can't believe you would expect me to partake in something which promotes violence.' Puck shook his head. ‘I was actually thinking that we could get a head start on that Calculus test? E to the X, am I right, Finn?’
‘Uh, whatever,’ Finn turned on his heel. ‘Just come on.’
*
Finn’s bedroom was decked out in flowers, carnations on the nightstand, rose petals strewn across the bed and the floor. The distinct scent of vanilla and jasmine wafted on the air, the candles casting a soft glow on the walls.
He grinned. ‘Rachel, you’re perfect.’
‘A-are you sure? I couldn’t decide on roses or carnations, so I chose both. And I picked vanilla because I know you like cake.’
He took her by the waist. ‘Man, these candles will really help us brainstorm on what to do with Blaine. Thanks, babe. Go wait downstairs and hang out with Kurt for ten.’
‘But---’
‘And if you could make a cake, that’d be awesome,’ he called after her as she slammed the door shut. He turned to Puck, who had raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’
‘Are you being cruel to be kind?’
‘What the what now?’
‘It’s a little ironic, isn’t it? Only instead of rosemary and pansies, she offers you roses.’
‘Dude, a little less flowers, a little more explanation, please.’
‘About what?’ asked Puck.
‘About Blaine!’ he exploded.
‘Blaine?’ said Puck, taking off his glasses (why he was wearing glasses, Finn did not know). He breathed on them a little, then began to polish them with his shirt. ‘What can I say? What should I attest? That he’s a fine and upstanding fellow? Of course, of course I can do that.
‘Why, the mere melody of his voice -- that cadence, you get me? -- it makes me want to suddenly and inexplicably do a backflip.’ He leant forward, his tone severe. ‘I want to do that backflip very, very slowly, Finn. Even if it doesn’t go with the rhythm of the song, at all.’
‘Monster,’ Finn gasped. ‘You may as well clap out of time.’
Puck nodded. ‘Perhaps. Perhaps.’
‘Dude, what the hell is going on with you?’
‘I can’t for the life of me think what you mean.’ Puck began to position the items on Finn’s desk to stylish tilts.
‘You asked Kurt to join our book group! We don’t even have a freaking book group!’
‘And that, my friend, is a shame. I say we start one straight away! I also move to motion that we begin with Chocolat by Joanne Harris. It’s a charming tale about a quaint, insular village in-‘
‘Oh, my God, shut up!’ Finn groaned. ‘I don’t want to talk about stupid chick books-‘
‘Sexist,’ Puck tutted.
‘-I want to talk about how to stop Blaine from sexing up my brother and, like, eating him or whatever.’
Puck frowned. ‘And why on Earth would you want to do that? Blaine and Kurt are perfect together, Finn. Perfect.’
A chill so strong and brutal hit Finn squarely in the base of his spine. ‘No, no,’ he moaned. ‘You-he got to you.’
‘Whom?’
‘You know who!’ Finn hissed. ‘You’ve been blainewashed!’
*
Finn couldn’t take watching Puck alphabetise his Playstation collection any longer. He stormed from his room, slamming the door as Rachel had done--
Uh-oh. I bet she slammed it because she was angry.
--He needed to clear his head, maybe if he just talked to Kurt, explained everything he could get him to see, to understand. He paused at the entrance to the basement when he heard Kurt and Rachel talking in a conspiratorial whisper.
‘-Can be block headed sometimes,’ Kurt was saying, his tone airy and dismissive.
‘I know we aren’t friends at the moment, Kurt, but I miss you so much and-I just really need a friend right now,’ Rachel answered. ‘It’s-Finn. I think that I’m ready and I just don’t know...’
Finn bit at his lip and turned as if to go. It would really suck if he were to hear something about himself, something that was horrible. But his feet didn’t seem to care about that, and remained rooted to the spot.
‘You mean-er, you mean for it?’
It? Fuck, was Blaine Pennywise? Again, it would explain the dress sense.
‘Yes, that. I know that Finn is the one, in my heart of hearts, I know it’s him,’ she sighed heavily. ‘Have you and Blaine, have you-‘
There was a silence, and Finn’s cheek found itself resting against the cool surface of the door.
‘Actually,’ Kurt’s voice edged out, higher than usual and a coyness underlying it. ‘I think-he’s asked me to go to this club with him tomorrow night. Scandals? And afterwards-he-‘ A giggle now, bubbly and filled with nerves. ‘He’s booked a hotel room. Holiday Inn.’
‘That flashy douche!’ gasped Finn.
Chapter 3
Author: mothergoddamn & rebness
Pairing/characters: Blaine/Kurt, Finn Hudson and Puck.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Finn is an easygoing guy who believes the best in everyone. But when Blaine Anderson begins to ingratiate himself into the Hudmels' lives, he can't ignore the strange events that occur. Just what exactly is wrong with Blaine? And can Finn save Kurt?
Previous: 1
There's Something Wrong With Blaine
Chapter 2
‘I can’t believe that it didn’t work,’ Finn muttered, stalking across Puck’s bedroom.
‘Maybe it wasn’t holy enough?’ Puck said as he strummed at the string of his guitar lazily.
‘Are you kidding? I said, like, a million prayers in that thing. I even dunked in a Taylor Swift album. Trust me, that was one holy slushee,’ Finn ceased his pacing and let out a disgruntled sigh. ‘And now both Rachel and Kurt are pissed at me, I’m suspended from the team and I owe my mom fifteen bucks for a new Taylor Swift album.’
Puck played a few chords, his brows furrowed in thought. ‘Listen, dude, are you--’
‘Yes! He’s a vampire, okay! He has to be.’ Finn hugged himself tight, a sudden chill kissing at the nape of his neck. ‘He’s definitely a vampire.’
‘Vampyre,’ Puck said solemnly. ‘It’s pronounced vampyre.’
‘That’s-- dude, that’s totally what I’m saying!’
Puck held up his hand. ‘And yet I can’t hear the Y,’ he said whimsically.
‘Why what?’
‘What?’
‘The Y.’
‘The why?’
‘What?’
‘The why of what?’
‘Why-‘ Finn threw up his hands in frustration. ‘For fuck's- will you just listen to me, Puck! He-- he sparkles.’
‘What? Like that Cullen guy with the face like an iron?’
‘Yes! Last week he got a shower at ours, right? And he came out sparkling and smelling like strawberries and-Oh, wait. Kurt does that sometimes, too.’ Finn tapped his lip. ‘Okay, the sparkling might be the body wash. I’ll look into that. But, that doesn’t mean he isn’t a blood-sucking fiend from hell.’
‘Then how come he can go around during the day and crap? Shouldn’t he be one crispy fry by now?’
‘Yeah, but iron face can do that, too. The douche.’
Puck watched him carefully. ‘You Team Jacob or Edward, bro?’
‘I am not having this debate again, Puck! Find me an answer!’
‘Maybe we’re out of answers. Maybe there is no answer!’
‘There are always answers,‘ said Finn scornfully. ‘It’s just that we never know what they are.‘ He pounded his fist. ‘We just need to try more things. Something more subtle than a holy slushee to the face. Oh! You got a crucifix?’
Puck stared at him.
‘Or your mom or something?’
‘Are you serious, man?’
Finn fluttered his hands at him. ‘Okay, okay, I get it, you’re not religious, geez. No need to be mean about it.’
Scowling, Puck didn’t answer him. He shoved past his friend and reached for something on the desk.
‘Look, I went back to the library and the old gal there gave me these.’ Puck reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a collection of large and dust covered books. ‘They always have these things in horror movies and that. This exactly what we need.’
‘This is great!’ Finn joined him on the bed, picking up one entitled VAMPYRE and trying to ignore Puck’s pointing and raised brow. He turned to the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
‘God, this is taking forever.’
‘I know, right?’ Puck slammed his own book shut. ‘Know what we need?’ He gave a slow smile. ‘What do Buffy, Veronica Mars and Supernatural have in common?’
‘They should have been cancelled earlier?’
‘Hot nerds.’ Puck grabbed his shoulder, giving him a little shake. ‘We need a hot nerd!’
‘Oh? Oh! Like the red head chick from band camp? And, was it Mack or something? And--’
‘Bobby.’ Puck glanced off dreamily. ‘Yeah.’
‘Exac-- wait, what?’
‘Anyway, that’s why we can’t read this crap. We need a hot nerd to do it for us and then we go kick its ass.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Finn scratched at his chin. ‘I have the perfect hot nerd! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Damn right, I am,’ Puck pushed the book off his lap and leapt up. ‘Let’s go get him.’
‘You really think she’ll-- wait, him? Don’t you mean her?’
‘Sure, of course I meant her. What the-- Clearly, I meant her. Like, dude.’ Puck hastily began doing bench presses. ‘Gotta get me to the gym. So I can bag a hot girl, not anything gay.’
‘Oh-kay,’ Finn said. ‘Well, we’ll see Tina and--’
‘Tina! Of course! Tina’s the perfect choice.’
‘--see if she can help. She’s probably a Wiccan or something.’
Puck nodded, adjusting his groin and letting loose a belch. ‘Maybe we can swing by Artie’s on the way, though,’ he said as they left the room. ‘Just to say hi?’
*
Tina frowned and stared at Puck again. ‘I’m sorry. Say that again?’
‘He didn’t mean it like that,’ began Finn. ‘You’re not weird.’
‘Dude,’ said Puck, ‘I got this.’ He slicked back his Mohawk. ‘It’s just that you understand all weird crazy shit and I think we got us a real load of crazy shit. You know, like Wicker.’
‘Wiccan.’
‘Babe, I’m pretty sure it was called the Wicker Man.’
‘It was,’ she said acidly.
‘I know,’ said Puck. He tapped his head. ’Whole lotta useless facts stored in ol’ Puckerman’s head. And so we thought, who do we know who’s passably hot and a big ol’ nerd. And we thought of you.’
‘So will you help us?’ asked Finn quickly.
‘…No.’
*
‘What’s up with you?’ whispered Rachel in Finn’s ear. ‘You’ve been so moody tonight.’
‘I’m not moody,’ he muttered moodily.
‘Yes-- yes, you are!’ she protested. ‘Everyone’s noticed.’
He looked around the diner table. Sure enough, his family and That were staring at him. ‘What?’ he asked, shoving a buffalo wing into his mouth.
‘You’re not eating well, are you?’ said Kurt.
‘I’ve eaten , like, a bucket.’
‘Oh my gosh,’ said Rachel. ‘Are you ill? Finn, you have to eat.’
‘Stop it! So I only ordered one bucket! Leave me the hell alone--!’
Burt slapped his hand on the table. ‘Finn, I know you’re sick right now, but I won’t have cussing in front of your mother.’
‘I’m not sick! Look, look, I’ll eat this whole goddam-- uh… gosh-darn bird.’
‘There’s no need to,’ said Carole, sniffing.
Blaine raised a hand to his chin and rested his head there. ‘Go for it, son.’
‘I’m not your son!’
‘It’s a figure of speech, you dolt!’ said Kurt. ‘Like you eating a bird.’
‘I will eat the bird.’
‘Sure.’
‘All of it!’
‘Even its beak?’ said Blaine.
‘Even its beak.’
Rachel began to sob. ‘Finn! Its poor beak!’
‘There isn’t a god--gosh-darn beak!’ he snapped.
‘Real men don’t need to eat birds to prove they’re men,’ said Burt, frowning.
‘Yeah, after all, I could eat a bird, too,’ said Blaine. ‘I’m just comfortable in my masculinity.’
‘I am!’
‘Good for you.’
‘Right!’ said Finn. ‘Right! You order a bird and we’ll have an eat-off.’
Kurt wrinkled his nose. ‘You’re such a barbarian sometimes.’
‘I’m inclined to agree,’ said Rachel, hiccoughing in panic.
Blaine grinned. ‘Come at me, Finn. Let’s do this.’
‘Blaine?’ Kurt frowned and laced his fingers with Blaine’s. ‘We talked about this, remember. Don’t let him rile you up.’
‘Oh, come on, Kurt,’ Blaine said, a teasing note in his voice. ‘It’s just a bit of fun. Isn’t it, Finn?’
‘Yeah,’ Finn muttered, narrowing his eyes. ‘Fun.’
‘And I’m sure that-Oh, my Gosh! Is that Liza Minnelli over by the salad bar?’ gasped Blaine.
Rachel spun around in her chair and threw Kurt to the floor. ‘I saw her first! Liza! Liza, it’s me! Your biggest fan!’
Burt shoved them both aside. ‘Liza! Sing Cabaret!’
Finn hated Cabaret. And Liza Minnelli. And all that stupid stuff. He was on a mission. Just the two legs to go now and he’d show that stupid Blaine.
Grunting, he looked over at Blaine.
And froze.
Blaine’s eyes, usually an inscrutable colour Kurt called ‘hazel’ but Finn called ‘mud-brown and crap’, seemed the very essence of black, taking in no light, reflecting nothing. Finn blinked in confusion.
‘Watch this, Finnegan,’ he positively hissed.
He lowered his head toward the table and pulled the chicken nearer. To Finn’s horror, his jaw seemed to dislocate itself, opening impossibly wide, to swallow the entire chicken in one go. It lodged in his throat, like in all those cartoons Finn got up early to watch on Saturdays, and then he swallowed, crushing it with his neck muscles before the lump disappeared into his torso.
Finn whimpered.
‘Now,’ said Blaine. ‘Who’s the real man here?’
Finn mechanically reached out for a chicken wing, never taking his eyes from Blaine. He was dimly aware of his family -- his precious, tender, salty family -- returning to the table.
Burt growled. ‘Well, that Japanese businessman will never forgive us for the football tackle.’
‘I think he appreciated my outfit,’ said Rachel. ‘He gave me his card and hotel room key.’ She frowned at her hand. ‘What’s loli?’
Carole shrieked in horror. ‘Finn! Did you eat Blaine’s chicken? You greedy boy!’
Finn glanced at her, swallowing in panic.
Uh-oh.
The chicken wing caught in his throat. He gagged and gasped as Rachel, ever the star, screeched in his ear and attempted to wrap her arms around his torso to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. In the panicked rush as his family attempted to help him, as Burt grabbed him and patted his back so he could cough up the food, he could not take his eyes from Blaine.
He felt the chicken dislodge and, despite Carole’s disgusted exclamation, he swallowed rather than spat it out. He snarled at Blaine as his nemesis slowly leaned forward to help him.
‘Sit down, Blaine!’
Blaine sat back in his seat, affecting a hurt look. ‘Calm down, Finlet.’
‘My name’s not Finlet--’
‘Did you just tell Blaine to sit down?’ hissed Kurt. ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’
‘Kurt, did you just cuss?’ snapped Burt. ‘Finn, you stop telling people to sit down! Kurt, you stop cussing! Blaine, you stand up or sit down, whatever you want.’ He sat down in his own chair. ‘I’m sitting down because I want to, by the way. Not because someone told me to.’ He took a bite out of a buffalo wing, daring any of them to speak. Nobody did.
A tremble was settling over Finn’s body and hysteria began to beat in a steady drum in his mind, begging to be let in. Wanting with all his being not to, his eyes met the other boy’s, passing by the empty basket, rising past the thumb that was stroking at Kurt’s knuckles in soft, soothing circles, past the throat that had taken on an entire bird like it was a crumb and to his face. That evil, souless face.
Slowly, Blaine smiled. And licked his lips.
*
‘I’ll never look at buffalo wings the same way again,’ whispered Rachel huskily.
‘Me neither,’ said Finn morosely.
‘I know it’s cruel and they’re farmed in the most inhumane conditions -- chickens, I mean, not buffalo. B-but maybe buffalo, too. But you’re such a man, Finn Hudson. You tore into that challenge like Javert--’
‘Like a python. Or whichever the one is that opens its jaw ten miles wide,’ muttered Finn. ‘That one.’
Rachel moved across his bed, and nuzzled his ear seductively. ‘Finn Hudson, you’re my hero.’
‘And the look in his eyes,’ whispered Finn.
Rachel pulled back. ‘Finn, I’m trying to-create something here. What are you talking about?’
‘Blaine.’
She gaped. ‘You’re thinking about Blaine while I’m giving myself, body and soul, to you?’ She sat back, crossing her arms. ‘Really, Finn. I wanted to-I need to talk to you about something. About us.’
‘Vampires don’t eat chicken,’ Finn mused. ‘Not bloodless chicken, anyway, so he must be something else.’
‘As you know, I am the lead in the school play, and Maria is not only an inspiring and defining feminine role for an ingénue such as myself but it is--- It’s a role about blossoming. About awakening.’
‘Maybe some sort of...vampire lion?’
‘It’s about the cusp of young love, standing upon the edge of adulthood and the experiences that are just within their tender young grasp.’ She grasped at Finn’s hand and pulled it to her chest. ‘Don’t you want to take that leap, Finn. Jump with me, Finn!’
‘What? Onto Blaine?’ He paused. ‘Do you think that will work?’
‘What on Earth are you-Finn, are you even listening?’
‘I, uh, yeah. Totally. We need to jump onto tender, young ingénues-er and-‘ Finn’s pocket burst into life, throwing out a merry tune and stealing Finn away from Rachel’s glare of anger. ‘My cell’s ringing.’
‘Don’t you change the subject when we are having a lover’s tiff!’ she protested.
‘But my cell’s ringing.’ He looked at the caller display. Puck. ‘Just a second. It’s important.’
‘This isn’t important?’
‘Rachel. Just hold that pose. One second.’ He picked up the call. ’Talk to me.’
‘You’re so gay, Jerry Maguire.’
‘Dude, Rachel’s got the insults covered tonight.’ Rachel glanced down, seemingly surprised to see Finn’s hand still cusping at her breast. She batted it away roughly. ‘What you got?’
‘I found out why he’s after Kurt.’
‘Wait, what?’ he asked, sitting up straight. ‘Blaine?’
‘Blaine!’ said Rachel joyfully.
Finn spun around, alarmed to see Blaine standing in the doorway. ‘Blaine.’
‘Yeah, Blaine?’ said Puck. ‘Anyway, I did some digging, like super cool MI5 digging.’
Finn eyed Blaine warily as he moved into the room and began to ohh and ahh over Rachel’s plaid skirt. ‘How?’ he whispered, his hand curling around the television remote. One jaw unhinge around Rachel and he was going to get a mouthful of cheap plastic.
‘No time for that dull exposition crap,’ Puck said. ‘Listen! It’s like, did you see Benjamin Button?’
‘No!’ sneered Finn. ‘Who’s the gay one, now?’ Blaine looked up at that, mid French plaiting Rachel’s hair, and the fire in his gaze made Finn almost shrink back. Almost, because Puck was onto something. Maybe something that would stop him once and for all.
‘Shut up! It was totally great. You know how he gets younger?’
‘No?’
‘This is a bad example. Peter Pan!’
‘He’s a paedo?’ Well. That would explain the dress sense.
‘No, no. Like… oh, Lost Boys! That’s it! Yeah, but not as badass and a bit more dated. I’m on fire tonight, Finn, whoo boy! Anyway, he’s freakishly free of frown lines, not like us. And I’m certain that Kurt said he was a senior when he first went to that Eton thing.’
Finn frowned, as if a memory was straining to be found in his mind. ‘That does sound familiar.’
‘So I Googled and I-‘
‘You Googled?’ Finn interrupted
‘Dude, stop killing the tension.’
‘But what would you even type into the search engine to-‘
‘Shut up! Look, I came across all freaky stuff, but mostly stuff about these killings, Finn. Killings all across America, every seven years.’
‘He’s Jeepers Creepers!’ whispered Finn into the phone. Blaine didn’t react, didn’t give him any indication he had heard, as he whispered into Rachel’s ear and she giggled coquettishly.
‘Not really, but kinda. All these gay men who died were aged 15-21, all totally lame ass virgins that hadn’t a chance in hell of getting laid.’
‘Oh, that-that sucks?’
‘Yeah, but before they died, right? They all got boyfriends. Like out of their league, total dream boaty and sexy boyfriends. That sounds like someone we both know right?’
‘Hey, you’re being a little unfair, there. And I wouldn’t exactly say he was sex-‘
‘So, these virgins? They were found, like, all super old and dusty. Like they had aged sixty years over night. And the devastated boyfriend?’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Gone. Never to be seen again.’
Finn watched as Blaine spun his girlfriend round the room, reciting lines from West Side Story and eyes on anywhere but him. ‘But how does any of that prove-‘
‘Sadie Hawkins 2004,’ said Puck. ‘The last one has a picture of the missing virgin and his Sadie Hawkins date.’ He swallowed. ‘Finn, the kid in the picture was Blaine. ’
Finn gripped the cell tight, and tried to keep his voice even. ‘What are you telling me, here?’
‘That we need to keep Kurt away from this fuck until we figure out how to gank him. He must be doing some sort of crazy, incubus like, youth sucking--’ Puck paused. ‘Sorry, I just got overwhelmed with, like, a thousand jokes.’
‘Puck!’
‘Yeah, sorry. Anyway. We need to keep them apart.’ Puck made a clucking noise. ‘Maybe I should de-virginise him. Kurt, I mean. Maybe that will do the trick?’
‘What the-‘
‘No need to thank me. Just trying to help out.’
‘Yeah, I don’t think that-‘ Finn turned to Rachel and Blaine, and was pleased to see that Blaine had finally slunk out. Good. ‘I don’t think Kurt will go for that somehow.’
‘He has eyes, doesn’t he?’ Puck’s voice lowered. ‘Eyes sort of like the Pacific ocean. Like waves washing sweetly over an ivory shore in the calm of morning.’
‘What?’
‘I’m saying I can bang him for you. Get him off Blaine’s radar. I can be over in about forty minutes. Put him in those tight, black jeans with the low waist and that Flashdance shirt thing he has. You know, the one that shows off the curve of his neck.’
‘I’m not pimping my brother out to you!’
‘Wait, there’s the door,’ said Puck. ‘Aw man, pizza nights rock!’
‘I don’t care about your pizza,’ said Finn. ‘The point is, we --’ Finn moved the phone away from his ear as the clumping sound of Puck’s feet on the stairs sang out. A door squeaked open.
‘Hey, man-wait--’ gasped Puck. ‘What are you--’
The call dropped.
Finn pulled his cell away and stared at it in confusion. He hit redial. The line rang out.
*
‘-And then, and then I was thinking that if I bend over like so-like, this, Finn, and then,’ Rachel gave a little shake of her rear and looked at him from between her knees, ‘do that. It’s not too provocative is it?’
‘I, uh, it seems to be a rather eccentric rendition of My Heart Will Go On. I’m not sure that Mr. Schue will go for it for Sectionals. And all that finger sucking is making the lyrics a bit hard to understand.’ Finn tried to keep his focus on his girlfriend, but his entire being was fused with worry for Puck. Why wasn’t he answering? Had something happened?
‘Finn,’ Carole’s voice called upstairs. ‘Door!’
Finn leapt up at the sound of her voice. ‘I’ll just be a sec-mmmph.’ Rachel’s lips smacked into his, and her fingers twined deep into his hair as her tongue dug roughly into his mouth. The kiss was long, deep and dirty. He blinked as she pulled away, her eyes all hooded and eyelashes blinking rapidly.
‘Hurry back, lover,’ she whispered.
He nodded dumbly, starting in fright when she slapped at his rear hard. Man, he thought as he made his way down the stairs, girls are so hard to read sometimes.
‘Who is it?’ Finn asked as he reached the bottom step. ‘Because I got totally super impo-‘ His words died off as his mother moved aside to show Puck at the doorway. ‘Wait? How did-‘
‘I took a short cut!’ Puck grinned widely. ‘I was just talking to your charming, younger sister here.’ He winked and Carole swatted him on his arm with an affectionate giggle.
‘Now, now, Puck. Let’s not start that again.’ She shot Finn a look, and then moved forward conspiratorially. ‘I think about that night all the time. Such prowess, such animal magnetism, such surprising flex-‘
‘Mom?’ Finn interrupted. ‘Could you go fix us a snack?’
‘What? Oh, sure, honey.’ Carole blushed, and straightened. Patting at her hair self-consciously, she smiled at Puck and waggled her fingers as she went.
Once she was gone, Finn turned back to Puck and appraised him silently.
'I-- you've gelled your mohawk back?'
Puck nodded, a sombre expression on his face. 'Affirmative, dear friend. A gentleman should always dress dapper, shouldn't he?'
‘Is that a suit? Have your ironed creases into the trousers?’
‘Thank you for noticing! It’s actually a permanent crease. I would be most happy to enlighten you on how to do this. First, we will need a block of wood, a wet cloth and-‘ At that moment, Kurt flounced past, laundry basket in his hands. 'A good day to you, Kurt!' said Puck cheerily.
'Don't start, you sarcastic dick,' muttered Kurt.
Puck shook his head. 'Most unedifying. And rather uncalled for.'
'It was a bit called for,' said Finn, scowling. Looking at Kurt warily, Finn turned back to Puck. ‘Uh, wanna play GTA? Upstairs, I mean. Where we can talk? Alone.'
Puck pinched his nose. 'Mr. Hudson, I can't believe you would expect me to partake in something which promotes violence.' Puck shook his head. ‘I was actually thinking that we could get a head start on that Calculus test? E to the X, am I right, Finn?’
‘Uh, whatever,’ Finn turned on his heel. ‘Just come on.’
*
Finn’s bedroom was decked out in flowers, carnations on the nightstand, rose petals strewn across the bed and the floor. The distinct scent of vanilla and jasmine wafted on the air, the candles casting a soft glow on the walls.
He grinned. ‘Rachel, you’re perfect.’
‘A-are you sure? I couldn’t decide on roses or carnations, so I chose both. And I picked vanilla because I know you like cake.’
He took her by the waist. ‘Man, these candles will really help us brainstorm on what to do with Blaine. Thanks, babe. Go wait downstairs and hang out with Kurt for ten.’
‘But---’
‘And if you could make a cake, that’d be awesome,’ he called after her as she slammed the door shut. He turned to Puck, who had raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’
‘Are you being cruel to be kind?’
‘What the what now?’
‘It’s a little ironic, isn’t it? Only instead of rosemary and pansies, she offers you roses.’
‘Dude, a little less flowers, a little more explanation, please.’
‘About what?’ asked Puck.
‘About Blaine!’ he exploded.
‘Blaine?’ said Puck, taking off his glasses (why he was wearing glasses, Finn did not know). He breathed on them a little, then began to polish them with his shirt. ‘What can I say? What should I attest? That he’s a fine and upstanding fellow? Of course, of course I can do that.
‘Why, the mere melody of his voice -- that cadence, you get me? -- it makes me want to suddenly and inexplicably do a backflip.’ He leant forward, his tone severe. ‘I want to do that backflip very, very slowly, Finn. Even if it doesn’t go with the rhythm of the song, at all.’
‘Monster,’ Finn gasped. ‘You may as well clap out of time.’
Puck nodded. ‘Perhaps. Perhaps.’
‘Dude, what the hell is going on with you?’
‘I can’t for the life of me think what you mean.’ Puck began to position the items on Finn’s desk to stylish tilts.
‘You asked Kurt to join our book group! We don’t even have a freaking book group!’
‘And that, my friend, is a shame. I say we start one straight away! I also move to motion that we begin with Chocolat by Joanne Harris. It’s a charming tale about a quaint, insular village in-‘
‘Oh, my God, shut up!’ Finn groaned. ‘I don’t want to talk about stupid chick books-‘
‘Sexist,’ Puck tutted.
‘-I want to talk about how to stop Blaine from sexing up my brother and, like, eating him or whatever.’
Puck frowned. ‘And why on Earth would you want to do that? Blaine and Kurt are perfect together, Finn. Perfect.’
A chill so strong and brutal hit Finn squarely in the base of his spine. ‘No, no,’ he moaned. ‘You-he got to you.’
‘Whom?’
‘You know who!’ Finn hissed. ‘You’ve been blainewashed!’
*
Finn couldn’t take watching Puck alphabetise his Playstation collection any longer. He stormed from his room, slamming the door as Rachel had done--
Uh-oh. I bet she slammed it because she was angry.
--He needed to clear his head, maybe if he just talked to Kurt, explained everything he could get him to see, to understand. He paused at the entrance to the basement when he heard Kurt and Rachel talking in a conspiratorial whisper.
‘-Can be block headed sometimes,’ Kurt was saying, his tone airy and dismissive.
‘I know we aren’t friends at the moment, Kurt, but I miss you so much and-I just really need a friend right now,’ Rachel answered. ‘It’s-Finn. I think that I’m ready and I just don’t know...’
Finn bit at his lip and turned as if to go. It would really suck if he were to hear something about himself, something that was horrible. But his feet didn’t seem to care about that, and remained rooted to the spot.
‘You mean-er, you mean for it?’
It? Fuck, was Blaine Pennywise? Again, it would explain the dress sense.
‘Yes, that. I know that Finn is the one, in my heart of hearts, I know it’s him,’ she sighed heavily. ‘Have you and Blaine, have you-‘
There was a silence, and Finn’s cheek found itself resting against the cool surface of the door.
‘Actually,’ Kurt’s voice edged out, higher than usual and a coyness underlying it. ‘I think-he’s asked me to go to this club with him tomorrow night. Scandals? And afterwards-he-‘ A giggle now, bubbly and filled with nerves. ‘He’s booked a hotel room. Holiday Inn.’
‘That flashy douche!’ gasped Finn.
Chapter 3