Fic: Come Undone (1/?)
Title: Come Undone (1/?)
Author: rachel_riot90
Rating: R
Word count: 2,670
Spoilers: It's an AU but will make reference to events of season 2, so let's say 2.06 onwards.
Summary: It was one mistake, one moment of panic and fear, but it changed Blaine Anderson's life forever. Being locked up in a juvenile correctional facility for a year saw him forced to adapt to survive. A few weeks before Blaine's release, a new kid arrived in juvie - Noah Puckerman. It was an instant friendship and one that Blaine knew would continue in the outside world. But he could never predict just how big an impact the friendship would have on him, especially when he meets this guy Puck knows called Kurt Hummel...
AN: There's room for one more on this bandwagon, right? What can I say, badboy!Blaine just does things to me. I was inspired. It's a little different from the Dalton Reform School fics though as I wanted to write something that, while still obviously AU, worked as an off-shoot of canon. This is a world where everything changed at the Sadie Hawkins dance.
The school day was nearly over by the time Kurt made it back from Dalton Academy.
The Warblers were good, he'd decided, but not a threat to New Directions. Their vocals were technically flawless but their lead singer (Thad, he thought he'd heard someone say, or maybe Chad) was over-rehearsed and trying too hard to seem charismatic. Kurt had managed to make it out of the school without talking to anyone. Even better, he'd managed to escape Karofsky for a few hours.
As he pulled his Navigator into the parking lot, he noticed he wasn't alone; there was a boy standing by the dumpsters, shielded from view of the main school building. His face was half obscured by a dark blue knit hat but Kurt couldn't help but notice that he was... well, kinda cute. Unfortunately his cuteness was marred by the cloud of smoke billowing around his head. Kurt watched as the boy sucked the last few drags of his cigarette then tossed the stub into a puddle. The tendrils of smoke danced into the air as he stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his battered leather jacket.
The boy looked up at the sound of Kurt's car door slamming shut.
“Hey,” he called out, slouching towards Kurt. “Do you know a guy called Noah Puckerman? I think he goes to school here.”
Kurt tightened his grip on his bag. “Yes, I know Puck.”
“Cool. He here today?”
“He was earlier. I'm assuming he still is now.”
“Okay... can you tell me where he is?”
Kurt glanced at his watch. “Last period ends in five minutes. After that he should be going to the choir room for glee club rehearsal.”
The boy let out a sudden hoot of laughter. “Puckerman's in glee club? Oh, this I gotta see!” He held out his hand. “My name's Blaine.”
Kurt hesitated for a moment before gingerly offering his hand in return. He hoped his fingers wouldn't come away smelling of nicotine.
“Kurt.”
“So we going in or we gonna stand out here freezing our cute butts off?”
“Who are you?”
Blaine shrugged. “I'm just a friend of Puck's. Heard he got out of juvie, wanted to see how he's doing. Come on.”
He walked backwards for a couple of steps, waiting for Kurt to join him. As gracefully as he could, Kurt bent down and plucked the soggy cigarette butt from the puddle then, keeping his eyes on Blaine, pointedly flicked it into the dumpster.
Blaine rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.
The final bell rang as they walked to the choir room and Kurt noticed how Blaine's shoulders stiffened as the halls filled with students, his eyes roaming the faces as though waiting for a challenge. Kurt half hoped they would run into Karofsky. He wondered if the sight of the scowling boy would be any kind of deterrent.
The other guys were waiting in the choir room. Kurt spotted the costume box as soon as he walked through the door and felt a slight pang at how his crimson feather boa had been so haphazardly strewn.
“Anderson?” Puck was on his feet in a second. “What the hell are you doing here, man?”
“I was at a loose end, thought I'd come by and see how freedom's treating you.”
They slapped hands and did some kind of elbow bumping move as Finn threw Kurt a confused (moreso than usual) look.
“Guys, this is my buddy Blaine from juvie,” Puck said. “How're you doing? My last few days pretty much sucked without you there.”
“Back with my parents...” Blaine shook his head. “I kinda feel like I had more freedom behind bars.”
Just then the sound of a tinny, generic ringtone cut through the room and Blaine yanked his phone from his pocket in irritation.
“Speak of the fucking devil,” he muttered, immediately rejecting the call. “So,” he said brightly, turning back to Puck, “you're really in glee club?”
Puck gave a too-casual shrug. “What can I say, dude? Chicks love a guy who sings. Makes them think I'm all sensitive and shit.”
“I don't think women are that stupid.”
Blaine grinned as he walked over to the costume box and pulled out one of Kurt's leopard print scarves. He tossed it around his neck.
“Does it suit me?”
“It's not really your colour,” Kurt said, “but the bold pattern certainly brings out your eyes.”
Blaine laughed joyously, his mouth opening in a wide grin.
“So is this the whole club? Just you guys?”
“We're in competition with the girls,” Artie said. “It's this thing our teacher does.”
“Well, don't let me keep you from your rehearsal. Show me what you got.”
“Uh, we're not really ready to perform in front of an audience yet,” Finn said.
“I'm hardly an audience-”
The cellphone noise sounded again, this time the simple beep of a message alert. Kurt tried to be a subtle as he could as he craned his neck to see the screen.
Mom:
Where are you?
Blaine immediately typed out a reply:
Getting drunk, taking drugs, spraying graffiti. Might go steal something later or maybe have an orgy. Don't wait up! xoxo
He stuffed the phone back into his pocket as soon as he'd hit send.
“Come on,” he said, grinning, “I can give you constructive criticism.”
“You laugh once and I'm kicking you out,” Puck said.
Blaine crossed his heart.
With Artie plucking out the melody on the piano, they ran through a rudimentary rendition of the first verse and chorus of their mash-up. True to his word, Blaine didn't laugh once but pronounced their performance 'cool' when they were done.
“So Kurt, what's the Dalton choir like?” Sam asked.
“Excellent vocals but their dancing lets them down and they lack an emotional anchor. I wouldn't worry about them.”
“Kurt's been spying on our competition for us,” Puck said with a note of pride in his voice.
“Ahh, I like it. You've got that whole baby face thing working for you. You look so innocent, no-one could accuse you of doing anything wrong. I guess you-”
Whatever else he was about to say was once again cut off by his cellphone.
“In my experience, when parents are that persistent, it's easier to just answer,” Kurt said.
“Mom, I'm fine,” Blaine said, by way of greeting. “I'm just hanging with a friend... Just a friend! No violence or law-breaking involved, Scout's honour... Mom, my curfew's not for three hours. It's not going to take me three hours to get home. Just get off my back!” He slammed the phone shut. “Who the hell invented parents?”
“That sucks, dude," Puck said. "My mom doesn't give a shit what I do.”
Blaine didn't answer; instead he loped over to the piano and started to tap out a surprisingly fluent version of Chopsticks.
“You play piano?” Puck said.
“Five years of lessons.”
Beep beep!
“For fuck's sake...” Blaine muttered, pulling his phone out again. Kurt sidled closer so he could see the message.
Get home now or I'm calling your probation officer. I mean it Blaine.
“Urgh, stupid bitch is going to have an aneurysm or something,” Blaine said. “I gotta go. Puck, it was good to see you, man.”
“Yeah, you too, dude.”
They did the same elbow bump move as when they'd greeted each other. Blaine held up his hand as a farewell to the rest of them, then stalked out of the choir room.
“Well, isn't he a charmer?” Kurt said, once he thought Blaine would be out of earshot.
“Hey, Blaine's a good guy,” Puck said.
“A good guy who's just been released from juvie.”
“I've just been released from juvie.”
“You're not a good guy.” He sighed. “You know what, I think we should call it a day. I'm tired from driving to Westerville and back. Let's just brainstorm choreography ideas tomorrow.”
Kurt quickly drove out of the school, already yearning for his soft white couch and a mug of low calorie cocoa. As he turned out onto the main road, a figure up ahead caught his eye: Blaine standing at a bus stop. His shoulders were hunched up and his hands looked to be as deep into his pockets as they could go but he was unmistakably shivering.
With a sigh and a questioning of his sanity, Kurt signalled and pulled up next to the bus stop.
“Do you need a ride anywhere?” he said, as he rolled the window down.
“I gotta get the bus to Fort Shawnee.”
“Get in, I'll drive you. Come on, I'm too much of a gentleman to leave you standing in the cold.”
Blaine seemed to consider the offer for a moment and Kurt couldn't work out if he was too proud to accept help or confused it was being offered. After a moment he pulled open the door and slipped in.
“Put your address in there,” Kurt said, handing Blaine his GPS.
“Sweet car.”
“I know. Electronic speed control, chrome tipped exhaust, multi-link rear suspension. It's my baby.”
“You know cars?”
“My dad's a mechanic. I knew how to change oil in second grade. I take it you don't have a car?”
“I've been in juvie for over a year. I kinda missed Driver's Ed.”
A year? Kurt thought. Puck stole an ATM and he was only there for six weeks. What the hell did this kid do to get locked up for a year?
“Hey, thanks for this,” Blaine went on. “My mom's such a dumb bitch, it's like I can't even take a leak without telling her first.”
“I'm sure she's just worried about you.”
“I don't even know what she thinks I'm gonna do.”
Probably the kind of stuff that landed you in a juvenile detention facility in the first place, Kurt thought, though he resisted the temptation to say it out loud.
“Your mom like that?” Blaine asked.
“My mom's dead. It's just me and my dad.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It's fine. My dad and I are really close.”
Blaine stared out the window. “Must be nice.”
“Here,” Kurt said, holding out his iPod, “pick whatever you want. It's hooked up to the stereo.”
Blaine clumsily scrolled through the shuffle, the first few notes of songs jumping out as he rejected them, before finally settling on one. The pop beat filled the car and Blaine patted out the rhythm on his thigh for the first couple of lines before he gently joined in with the lyrics.
“...Before you met me I was all right but things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life...”
“I wouldn't have pegged you for a Katy Perry fan,” Kurt said.
“...Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love...”
“You're allowed music in juvie?”
“It's juvie, Kurt, not Azkaban. Good behaviour gets you TV privileges. MTV was on a lot.”
They drove along in silence after that, Blaine back to drumming on his leg instead of singing along.
“So your mom's given you a pretty strict curfew, huh?” Kurt said, as the song ended.
“Actually, the Department of Youth Services have given me a strict curfew.”
Blaine lifted up his leg up and for the first time Kurt noticed the heavy electronic tag around his ankle.
“Take your foot off my dashboard. How long do you have to wear that?”
“Three months,” he said, tugging his jeans back down. “I'm not allowed to leave my home between the hours of seven pm and seven am. It's lame, I know, but it beats staying in juvie for the rest of high school.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“Undetermined. I was supposed to go Shawnee High but the PTA got this petition together, protesting against my admission. Assholes.”
“They've pre-emptively expelled you? Are they allowed to do that?”
“They can try. Whatever. Like I want to go to a school where everybody's made up their mind about me? I don't give a shit anyway.”
“Sounds like it,” Kurt muttered.
“What?”
“I said, you could come McKinley.”
“You think?”
“Sure. You've got a decent voice, you could join glee club.”
Blaine smiled but there was little humour in it. “From juvie to glee club. That's an inspirational Lifetime movie in the making.”
“Well, the tag is a little clunkier than I usually like my accessories but there's a certain convict chic to it.”
Blaine smiled again and this time he meant it. “I think I like you, Kurt.”
A few more turns and they reached Blaine's home. There was a woman standing out the front - Blaine's mother, Kurt assumed - black-haired, small and round, but with a fierce expression etched on her face.
“Still in one piece,” Blaine said, as he got out and slammed the car door shut. “No trail of destruction in my wake. No sirens in the distance. Are you satisfied?”
“Where the hell have you been? You can't just go running off like that, Blaine!” Suddenly her steely glare turned on Kurt and he shrank back in his seat. Blaine's mom rapped on his window and Kurt quickly rolled it down.
“And who the hell are you?” she said.
“He's a friend,” Blaine said.
“Actually, we only just met. But he really hasn't been doing anything bad - just distracting my friends and I from our glee club rehearsal.”
A frown flickered across Blaine's mom's face, like she wasn't sure if Kurt was joking.
“Seriously. That's where he's been.”
“Well. Thank you for driving him home.”
“See you around, Kurt,” Blaine said, and then he ran up the driveway without looking back.
The house was empty when Kurt got home so he fixed himself that mug of cocoa, grabbed his laptop and settled in the living room. Facebook was his first destination but before he could scroll through his news feed a little red '1' in the left corner caught his eye. He had a new friend request.
Blaine Anderson
1 mutual friend
Kurt only half hesitated before hitting the 'confirm' button.
He went straight to Blaine's profile then. The picture showed him in a light blue hoodie, smiling, looking young. His status was newly updated:
Stop it, Kurt, he told himself, as he made a futile attempt to force away his smile. Stop it now.
Chapter 2
Author: rachel_riot90
Rating: R
Word count: 2,670
Spoilers: It's an AU but will make reference to events of season 2, so let's say 2.06 onwards.
Summary: It was one mistake, one moment of panic and fear, but it changed Blaine Anderson's life forever. Being locked up in a juvenile correctional facility for a year saw him forced to adapt to survive. A few weeks before Blaine's release, a new kid arrived in juvie - Noah Puckerman. It was an instant friendship and one that Blaine knew would continue in the outside world. But he could never predict just how big an impact the friendship would have on him, especially when he meets this guy Puck knows called Kurt Hummel...
AN: There's room for one more on this bandwagon, right? What can I say, badboy!Blaine just does things to me. I was inspired. It's a little different from the Dalton Reform School fics though as I wanted to write something that, while still obviously AU, worked as an off-shoot of canon. This is a world where everything changed at the Sadie Hawkins dance.
The school day was nearly over by the time Kurt made it back from Dalton Academy.
The Warblers were good, he'd decided, but not a threat to New Directions. Their vocals were technically flawless but their lead singer (Thad, he thought he'd heard someone say, or maybe Chad) was over-rehearsed and trying too hard to seem charismatic. Kurt had managed to make it out of the school without talking to anyone. Even better, he'd managed to escape Karofsky for a few hours.
As he pulled his Navigator into the parking lot, he noticed he wasn't alone; there was a boy standing by the dumpsters, shielded from view of the main school building. His face was half obscured by a dark blue knit hat but Kurt couldn't help but notice that he was... well, kinda cute. Unfortunately his cuteness was marred by the cloud of smoke billowing around his head. Kurt watched as the boy sucked the last few drags of his cigarette then tossed the stub into a puddle. The tendrils of smoke danced into the air as he stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his battered leather jacket.
The boy looked up at the sound of Kurt's car door slamming shut.
“Hey,” he called out, slouching towards Kurt. “Do you know a guy called Noah Puckerman? I think he goes to school here.”
Kurt tightened his grip on his bag. “Yes, I know Puck.”
“Cool. He here today?”
“He was earlier. I'm assuming he still is now.”
“Okay... can you tell me where he is?”
Kurt glanced at his watch. “Last period ends in five minutes. After that he should be going to the choir room for glee club rehearsal.”
The boy let out a sudden hoot of laughter. “Puckerman's in glee club? Oh, this I gotta see!” He held out his hand. “My name's Blaine.”
Kurt hesitated for a moment before gingerly offering his hand in return. He hoped his fingers wouldn't come away smelling of nicotine.
“Kurt.”
“So we going in or we gonna stand out here freezing our cute butts off?”
“Who are you?”
Blaine shrugged. “I'm just a friend of Puck's. Heard he got out of juvie, wanted to see how he's doing. Come on.”
He walked backwards for a couple of steps, waiting for Kurt to join him. As gracefully as he could, Kurt bent down and plucked the soggy cigarette butt from the puddle then, keeping his eyes on Blaine, pointedly flicked it into the dumpster.
Blaine rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.
The final bell rang as they walked to the choir room and Kurt noticed how Blaine's shoulders stiffened as the halls filled with students, his eyes roaming the faces as though waiting for a challenge. Kurt half hoped they would run into Karofsky. He wondered if the sight of the scowling boy would be any kind of deterrent.
The other guys were waiting in the choir room. Kurt spotted the costume box as soon as he walked through the door and felt a slight pang at how his crimson feather boa had been so haphazardly strewn.
“Anderson?” Puck was on his feet in a second. “What the hell are you doing here, man?”
“I was at a loose end, thought I'd come by and see how freedom's treating you.”
They slapped hands and did some kind of elbow bumping move as Finn threw Kurt a confused (moreso than usual) look.
“Guys, this is my buddy Blaine from juvie,” Puck said. “How're you doing? My last few days pretty much sucked without you there.”
“Back with my parents...” Blaine shook his head. “I kinda feel like I had more freedom behind bars.”
Just then the sound of a tinny, generic ringtone cut through the room and Blaine yanked his phone from his pocket in irritation.
“Speak of the fucking devil,” he muttered, immediately rejecting the call. “So,” he said brightly, turning back to Puck, “you're really in glee club?”
Puck gave a too-casual shrug. “What can I say, dude? Chicks love a guy who sings. Makes them think I'm all sensitive and shit.”
“I don't think women are that stupid.”
Blaine grinned as he walked over to the costume box and pulled out one of Kurt's leopard print scarves. He tossed it around his neck.
“Does it suit me?”
“It's not really your colour,” Kurt said, “but the bold pattern certainly brings out your eyes.”
Blaine laughed joyously, his mouth opening in a wide grin.
“So is this the whole club? Just you guys?”
“We're in competition with the girls,” Artie said. “It's this thing our teacher does.”
“Well, don't let me keep you from your rehearsal. Show me what you got.”
“Uh, we're not really ready to perform in front of an audience yet,” Finn said.
“I'm hardly an audience-”
The cellphone noise sounded again, this time the simple beep of a message alert. Kurt tried to be a subtle as he could as he craned his neck to see the screen.
Mom:
Where are you?
Blaine immediately typed out a reply:
Getting drunk, taking drugs, spraying graffiti. Might go steal something later or maybe have an orgy. Don't wait up! xoxo
He stuffed the phone back into his pocket as soon as he'd hit send.
“Come on,” he said, grinning, “I can give you constructive criticism.”
“You laugh once and I'm kicking you out,” Puck said.
Blaine crossed his heart.
With Artie plucking out the melody on the piano, they ran through a rudimentary rendition of the first verse and chorus of their mash-up. True to his word, Blaine didn't laugh once but pronounced their performance 'cool' when they were done.
“So Kurt, what's the Dalton choir like?” Sam asked.
“Excellent vocals but their dancing lets them down and they lack an emotional anchor. I wouldn't worry about them.”
“Kurt's been spying on our competition for us,” Puck said with a note of pride in his voice.
“Ahh, I like it. You've got that whole baby face thing working for you. You look so innocent, no-one could accuse you of doing anything wrong. I guess you-”
Whatever else he was about to say was once again cut off by his cellphone.
“In my experience, when parents are that persistent, it's easier to just answer,” Kurt said.
“Mom, I'm fine,” Blaine said, by way of greeting. “I'm just hanging with a friend... Just a friend! No violence or law-breaking involved, Scout's honour... Mom, my curfew's not for three hours. It's not going to take me three hours to get home. Just get off my back!” He slammed the phone shut. “Who the hell invented parents?”
“That sucks, dude," Puck said. "My mom doesn't give a shit what I do.”
Blaine didn't answer; instead he loped over to the piano and started to tap out a surprisingly fluent version of Chopsticks.
“You play piano?” Puck said.
“Five years of lessons.”
Beep beep!
“For fuck's sake...” Blaine muttered, pulling his phone out again. Kurt sidled closer so he could see the message.
Get home now or I'm calling your probation officer. I mean it Blaine.
“Urgh, stupid bitch is going to have an aneurysm or something,” Blaine said. “I gotta go. Puck, it was good to see you, man.”
“Yeah, you too, dude.”
They did the same elbow bump move as when they'd greeted each other. Blaine held up his hand as a farewell to the rest of them, then stalked out of the choir room.
“Well, isn't he a charmer?” Kurt said, once he thought Blaine would be out of earshot.
“Hey, Blaine's a good guy,” Puck said.
“A good guy who's just been released from juvie.”
“I've just been released from juvie.”
“You're not a good guy.” He sighed. “You know what, I think we should call it a day. I'm tired from driving to Westerville and back. Let's just brainstorm choreography ideas tomorrow.”
Kurt quickly drove out of the school, already yearning for his soft white couch and a mug of low calorie cocoa. As he turned out onto the main road, a figure up ahead caught his eye: Blaine standing at a bus stop. His shoulders were hunched up and his hands looked to be as deep into his pockets as they could go but he was unmistakably shivering.
With a sigh and a questioning of his sanity, Kurt signalled and pulled up next to the bus stop.
“Do you need a ride anywhere?” he said, as he rolled the window down.
“I gotta get the bus to Fort Shawnee.”
“Get in, I'll drive you. Come on, I'm too much of a gentleman to leave you standing in the cold.”
Blaine seemed to consider the offer for a moment and Kurt couldn't work out if he was too proud to accept help or confused it was being offered. After a moment he pulled open the door and slipped in.
“Put your address in there,” Kurt said, handing Blaine his GPS.
“Sweet car.”
“I know. Electronic speed control, chrome tipped exhaust, multi-link rear suspension. It's my baby.”
“You know cars?”
“My dad's a mechanic. I knew how to change oil in second grade. I take it you don't have a car?”
“I've been in juvie for over a year. I kinda missed Driver's Ed.”
A year? Kurt thought. Puck stole an ATM and he was only there for six weeks. What the hell did this kid do to get locked up for a year?
“Hey, thanks for this,” Blaine went on. “My mom's such a dumb bitch, it's like I can't even take a leak without telling her first.”
“I'm sure she's just worried about you.”
“I don't even know what she thinks I'm gonna do.”
Probably the kind of stuff that landed you in a juvenile detention facility in the first place, Kurt thought, though he resisted the temptation to say it out loud.
“Your mom like that?” Blaine asked.
“My mom's dead. It's just me and my dad.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It's fine. My dad and I are really close.”
Blaine stared out the window. “Must be nice.”
“Here,” Kurt said, holding out his iPod, “pick whatever you want. It's hooked up to the stereo.”
Blaine clumsily scrolled through the shuffle, the first few notes of songs jumping out as he rejected them, before finally settling on one. The pop beat filled the car and Blaine patted out the rhythm on his thigh for the first couple of lines before he gently joined in with the lyrics.
“...Before you met me I was all right but things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life...”
“I wouldn't have pegged you for a Katy Perry fan,” Kurt said.
“...Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love...”
“You're allowed music in juvie?”
“It's juvie, Kurt, not Azkaban. Good behaviour gets you TV privileges. MTV was on a lot.”
They drove along in silence after that, Blaine back to drumming on his leg instead of singing along.
“So your mom's given you a pretty strict curfew, huh?” Kurt said, as the song ended.
“Actually, the Department of Youth Services have given me a strict curfew.”
Blaine lifted up his leg up and for the first time Kurt noticed the heavy electronic tag around his ankle.
“Take your foot off my dashboard. How long do you have to wear that?”
“Three months,” he said, tugging his jeans back down. “I'm not allowed to leave my home between the hours of seven pm and seven am. It's lame, I know, but it beats staying in juvie for the rest of high school.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“Undetermined. I was supposed to go Shawnee High but the PTA got this petition together, protesting against my admission. Assholes.”
“They've pre-emptively expelled you? Are they allowed to do that?”
“They can try. Whatever. Like I want to go to a school where everybody's made up their mind about me? I don't give a shit anyway.”
“Sounds like it,” Kurt muttered.
“What?”
“I said, you could come McKinley.”
“You think?”
“Sure. You've got a decent voice, you could join glee club.”
Blaine smiled but there was little humour in it. “From juvie to glee club. That's an inspirational Lifetime movie in the making.”
“Well, the tag is a little clunkier than I usually like my accessories but there's a certain convict chic to it.”
Blaine smiled again and this time he meant it. “I think I like you, Kurt.”
A few more turns and they reached Blaine's home. There was a woman standing out the front - Blaine's mother, Kurt assumed - black-haired, small and round, but with a fierce expression etched on her face.
“Still in one piece,” Blaine said, as he got out and slammed the car door shut. “No trail of destruction in my wake. No sirens in the distance. Are you satisfied?”
“Where the hell have you been? You can't just go running off like that, Blaine!” Suddenly her steely glare turned on Kurt and he shrank back in his seat. Blaine's mom rapped on his window and Kurt quickly rolled it down.
“And who the hell are you?” she said.
“He's a friend,” Blaine said.
“Actually, we only just met. But he really hasn't been doing anything bad - just distracting my friends and I from our glee club rehearsal.”
A frown flickered across Blaine's mom's face, like she wasn't sure if Kurt was joking.
“Seriously. That's where he's been.”
“Well. Thank you for driving him home.”
“See you around, Kurt,” Blaine said, and then he ran up the driveway without looking back.
The house was empty when Kurt got home so he fixed himself that mug of cocoa, grabbed his laptop and settled in the living room. Facebook was his first destination but before he could scroll through his news feed a little red '1' in the left corner caught his eye. He had a new friend request.
Blaine Anderson
1 mutual friend
Kurt only half hesitated before hitting the 'confirm' button.
He went straight to Blaine's profile then. The picture showed him in a light blue hoodie, smiling, looking young. His status was newly updated:
Stop it, Kurt, he told himself, as he made a futile attempt to force away his smile. Stop it now.
Chapter 2