Fic: Love The One You're With (Chapter Three)
Media: Fic
Title: Love The One You're With (3/?)
Author: michygeary
Rating: PG/PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Kurt, Jeff, Nick, Blaine, others; various pairings.
Word Count: 4,200 (11,442 total so far)
Spoilers (if any): Takes place mid-season 2, just after Valentine's Day (2x12).
Warnings (if any): Multiship-friendly.
Summary: Kurt is in love with Blaine. Jeff is in love with Nick. The two of them team up to get what they want.
Author's Note: Kurt and Jeff are best friends. Kurt and Blaine are good friends. Nick and Jeff are acquaintances, sometimes friends, more often competitors. Diverges from canon mid-season 2. Without Sonja, I am nothing.
All chapters: One | Two | Three
Other Links: Scarves & Coffee | Quoth the Warbler
Kurt squints through his safety goggles, lifting the graduated cylinder up to eye level. He slowly pours the brown liquid from the beaker with his other hand, watching the meniscus rise steadily. He slows as it approaches the mark, then seesaws the beaker on the rim to allow just a few drops at a time. In his periphery, he can see the outline of Jeff's face slowly move into his eyeline. His smirk looks even wider through the curved glass of the beaker.
"I think you overshot it," he teases. "Maybe you should have poured it a little more carefully."
"Accuracy is twenty percent of our grade," Kurt retorts. "And I'm pedantic. Don't you know this about me by now?"
"It never fails to amuse me," Jeff says.
"You mean endear me to you?"
"Same thing," he shrugs. "So when do we get to drop the Mentos in?"
"Mentos?" Kurt asks, not looking up as he sets the beaker down and dumps the contents of the graduated cylinder into a test tube.
"It's this small minty breath freshener-" he starts, but Kurt cuts him off with a wave of his now-free hand.
"I know what it is, you moron, but why would we put it in our Bromine solution?"
"Because it looks like Diet Coke," Jeff supplies.
Kurt finally looks up from his work station, goggles rising with his eyebrows. "So?"
"'So'? Come on, didn't you ever drop Mentos into Diet Coke?"
Kurt's face contorts. "That's disgusting, why would anyone want to do that?"
"Not to drink, silly," says Jeff, rolling his eyes as he reaches over the counter to help Kurt mount the test tube over the Bunsen burner.
"Right, to cure polio, obviously?" Kurt posits, adjusting the tightness of the screw with one hand and keeping the test tube level with the other.
Jeff clicks his tongue. "Spoilers. If you've never done it, I'm not going to ruin the ending. Add that to our list of future date activities."
"I thought you said there wouldn't be any future dates?" Kurt asks.
"No, I said that you would have to impress me on our first date first."
Kurt's lips quirk into a smile at one corner. "So, I was good, then?"
Jeff maneuvers his hand carefully around the tower of equipment to lay it over Kurt's. "You were perfect."
Kurt's eyes flicker to the hand over his own and then back to his lab partner. "Pookie, if you make me drop this and we have to start all over, I will take your name off this lab report.
"You can't do that; I'm the one writing it."
"Then I'll tell everyone in glee club that you're a natural brunet."
Jeff gasps and yanks his hand back to clutch at his heart. "You wouldn't!"
"Try me!"
Jeff crosses his arms and pouts. "You're a mean mad scientist."
"Ha! You should see me in French."
Jeff scooches around to the other side of the table and sidles up next to Kurt. "Is that an invitation?"
"Pookie," Kurt warns, eyeing the Bunsen burner emphatically.
"Okay, okay." Jeff's shoulders fall, and he drops down into the seat next to Kurt. "I wish that Bunsen burner was bigger," he sighs. Kurt side-eyes him.
"Why?"
"'Cause I'm cold," he says, folding his arms across his chest.
"Why didn't you wear your blazer, then?" Kurt asks without taking his eyes off his work. Jeff shrugs.
"Felt like a sweater vest kind of day?"
"Well, that's stupid."
"Oh, like you've never woken up with a misguided fashion idea?" Jeff retorts. Kurt looks up and, even though his eyebrows are mostly obscured by the safety goggles, Jeff can tell that they're narrowed. Jeff humbles. "Okay, good point."
Kurt shakes his head. He continues to work but nods to the chair where his own blazer jacket hangs off the back. "Why don't you wear mine?"
Jeff perks up. "Really? You won't be cold?"
"Please, thermoregulation is my bitch."
Jeff walks around the table to pull the jacket off of the chair. He throws it around his shoulders without putting his arms through the sleeves and snuggles into it. "It's bigger than mine."
Kurt snorts but refrains from making a comment.
***
Blaine turns around quite a few times during the hour and fifteen minutes that he and Jeff share Philosophy class. Jeff sits three rows behind him and four chairs to the right, which means Blaine really has to crane his neck to see around his other classmates. At first, Jeff thinks he must just be imagining things, but somewhere around the sixth time Blaine looks back at him, he decides that something must be up.
The lesson is engaging enough (this week they're on Discourse on the Method and Principles of Philosophy) that Jeff almost forgets all about it by the time the bell rings at the end of class. It's not until he's halfway down the hallway and he hears the hurried footsteps of Blaine catching up to him that he remembers.
"Walk you to lunch?" Blaine offers as he falls in step with Jeff.
"Um, sure," Jeff shrugs. His stomach feels a little weird like he's anticipating reproach, despite the fact that he can't imagine what wrong he's done to Blaine. What he gets instead is several paces of awkward silence before he finally says, "So, what do you think of Descartes?" just to break the silence. "Kind of makes you start to question what's real, huh?"
"You could say that," Blaine agrees, and Jeff gets the distinct impression that he picked the wrong thing to say. They walk a few more steps before Blaine says, "You excited for glee tonight?"
"Yeah, should be good, should be good." Jeff can tell that Blaine has something else to say, but all this stalling is making the walk to the dining hall feel longer than usual. He fears they'll spend the rest of it in forced superficiality, but then-
"Oh, hey, is that Kurt's blazer?" Blaine asks, as though he only just noticed, in a tone which Jeff can only assume was meant to sound conversational but, given the last few minutes, comes across more non sequitur.
"Oh, yeah, it is," he says, looking down at it. "How did you know?"
"The... brooch," Blaine says, pointing to the breast pocket. "It's a hippo head. Kind of a tell."
"Oh!" Jeff touches it with his right hand. "I didn't even realize that was there." Blaine smiles and nods. "Oh, he only just gave it to me this morning," Jeff quickly adds, realizing what it looks like otherwise. "Chemistry class. I was cold. Didn't wear my own today."
"It's February," Blaine points out. Jeff laughs humbly.
"Yeah, I know. Idiot," he says, pointing to his own face with both thumbs.
"You're lucky to have such a great-" Blaine stops himself short, and Jeff feels a brief thrill of guilt over the conflict in his eyes. "Kurt is really thoughtful to do that," he finishes. Jeff just nods and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets as they continue their walk in silence.
When they arrive in the cafeteria, Jeff heads for the entrée stations while Blaine makes a beeline for the salad bar. A few of the Warblers are together at their usual center table, and Kurt is already sitting in his usual spot when Jeff arrives with a tray of shepherd's pie, cornbread and coffee. He settles into the empty chair next to Kurt and leans over.
"Had the most awkward conversation with Blaine on the way down here," he mutters so that the other three boys at their table won't hear. "But you may be interested to know that he can apparently differentiate your uniform jacket from everyone else's uniform jacket."
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to want details on that later." He nods his head to something over Jeff's shoulder, and Jeff turns around to see Blaine approaching the table with a Caesar salad in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He slows when he approaches the table, looking puzzled.
"Something wrong?" Kurt asks.
"Oh, no," Blaine dismisses, "I was just...trying to decide where to sit."
Jeff's eyes widen slightly as he looks back and forth between Kurt and Blaine and then down at his own tray. "Oh, I'm in your seat," he realizes.
"Well..."
"They're not assigned, silly," Kurt interrupts, waving his hand to an empty chair across the table. "Just sit where Jeff usually sits."
"I can move," Jeff offers and makes a grab for his tray.
"No, no, it's fine," Blaine says quickly. "Kurt's right, they're not assigned or anything. It doesn't matter, I'll just sit..." He makes his way around the table to put his plate and glass down between Thad and one of the freshman Warblers, Jeremy, who positively lights up to see him.
"Is that all you're eating?" Thad asks as Blaine pulls out his chair to sit down.
"What? It's got chicken in it," Blaine argues.
"Actually, I'm not sure you can call that chicken," Kurt remarks from across the table, and a few of the boys laugh. Blaine looks up to smile at him, catching his eye for a brief moment, but Kurt looks over at Jeff instead and winks. Blaine clears his throat and digs into his salad.
"So, the big reveal of the Regionals songs tonight," Thad announces with his best, booming voice. "Any guesses?"
"Bruno Mars!" a boy named James cries, despite a mouthful of food. He swallows quickly and throws his fists in the air, leaping out of his seat dramatically to belt out, "What you don't understand is I'd catch a grenade for ya!" Trent, who has just arrived at the table with Wes, jumps on the next line with a killer harmony. The rest of the boys join in and round out the remainder of the chorus in their respective vocal groups. There's a light amount of scattered applause from various tables across the cafeteria when they finish.
"That is a great guess," Thad says, grinning. "Anyone else?"
"I'm really feeling that new Enrique Iglesias song," Jeremy pipes up, looking directly at Blaine. "It's hot."
"Yes, well, obviously we'd have to do the censored version if we want to perform it at Regionals," Blaine replies politely.
Kurt immediately leans over to Jeff, who has just begun to sip his coffee, and presses his lips to his ear. "Pretend that I'm saying something dirty to you," he whispers.
Jeff snorts into his coffee and slams it down on the table, looking scandalized. "Kurt!" he hisses. "Not in public!"
"Something you boys want to share with the rest of the class?" Trent asks with a devilish smirk. Kurt and Jeff share a look and shake their heads.
"Am I missing Warbler talk?" Nick asks as he arrives at the table and takes the last empty seat next to Jeremy.
"You're missing Warbler scandal," Trent laughs, indicating Jeff and Kurt with a thrust of his chin.
"Wait, what?" Nick asks, smiling nervously as he sits down. Thad opens his mouth to comment, but Blaine speaks up.
"Personally, I hope we do Pink," he says.
"Blaine, your horrendous fashion ideas aside-" Trent begins, but Blaine cuts him off.
"Not the color, the singer," he says, averting his eyes as Kurt spoon-feeds Jeff some of his pudding. "Um, we had tremendous success with the competition audience when we did So What last year."
"Tiny makes a good point," Wes says, biting into his cheese pizza. "But I won't say any more until this afternoon."
"What do you think, Nick?" James asks. Nick's head snaps up from his lap where he has a German textbook open.
"I'm sorry," he says absently, "what was the question?"
"Ah, dream picks for Regionals songs," Blaine says. Just past Nick's head, he can see Jeff breaking off pieces of his chocolate chip cookie and feeding them to Kurt, who is licking and kissing the crumbs away from Jeff's fingers, both of them giggling behind their hands. He keeps Nick in focus.
"Oh, uh, I dunno," Nick says. "There's this great song by The Decemberists-"
"No one knows who that is, champ," Thad says, not looking up as he meticulously cuts his chicken marsala.
"Blaine does," Nick says, and Blaine nods. Thad rolls his eyes.
"Okay, let me rephrase that," he replies. "No one who matters at competition knows who that is."
Nick tosses a hand up in the air. "Fine. OneRepublic has come out with a few good ones lately. Like Secrets. Happy?"
"Quite!" Thad says, and Nick's eyes fall back to the textbook in his lap, muttering in German as his eyes rove over the text. Behind him, Jeff and Kurt trade Eskimo kisses.
***
"Blaine, would you hand me that measuring cup?"
"Which size?"
Kurt consults the recipe. "Ah, one-third, please."
Blaine fans out the measuring cups around their brass ring and unhooks the one-third. He passes it to Kurt, who retrieves it without a word and begins to measure out the skim milk. Blaine watches helplessly while Kurt hums cheerfully. After a few moments, he stops and looks up at Blaine expectantly.
"You can get started on the flour," he smiles, pointing his elbow at the Lazy Susan. His eyes flicker to the recipe. "It's two cups, sifted."
"Right," Blaine says, clapping and rubbing his hands together as Kurt turns back to the milk. Blaine crouches by the cupboard and turns the Lazy Susan until he stops on the flour. The bag, although not yet opened, is lightly dusted with flour on the outside; Blaine pinches it at the corners and lifts it, trying to keep the bag from touching his uniform as he drops it onto the counter between himself and Kurt. He examines it for a tab to tear the bag open and finds none. He digs his fingernails under the folds and attempts to pry them apart, but his fingers are still slick from measuring out the vegetable oil earlier. He grows increasingly frustrated as his fingers stab and grope at the bag to no avail. Finally, he grabs the front and back of the bag in both fists and yanks them apart. The bag erupts into a cloud of flour that covers both himself and Kurt.
"Oh, god," he stammers as he shoves the bag out of the way to examine the damage. Kurt blinks, stunned. His face is freckled in flour, but his tie and shirt got the brunt of it. "Oh, my god, Kurt, I'm so sorry, oh-" Blaine ignores the flour on his own blazer and tries to pat the flour off Kurt's clothes. To his surprise, Kurt laughs.
"It's all right, Blaine," he says, smiling as he swats Blaine's hand away. "Jeez, don't cry."
"I'm-I'm really sorry," Blaine repeats while Kurt opens a drawer under the sink and extracts a dishtowel. He swishes it under the faucet a few times, wrings it out, and then begins patting the flour off of his tie and shirt.
"It's not a big deal," Kurt assures him calmly. Blaine looks horrified with himself.
"It's not?" he asks, clearly unconvinced. Kurt snorts.
"No, why would it be?"
Blaine frowns. "You're so... careful and protective of your clothes, I..."
"Yeah, my clothes," says Kurt. "I've got ten of these ties, and I paid less for them than I normally do for one outfit. Same goes for m'pants." He dusts the rag over his leg where there's just a few flecks and cries, "Out, damned spot!" before handing the towel to Blaine. "Besides, I think you're worse off than I am."
Blaine finally looks down at his own blazer, currently more white than it is navy. "Oh, yeah," he says absently, taking the towel from Kurt and brushing it down his sleeves. Kurt smiles and turns back to the recipe. He resumes humming again as Blaine swipes the towel over his lapels and the bit of his tie that shows through the opening.
"It doesn't call for vanilla extract, but you won't tell if I throw a dash in, right?" Kurt asks.
"You're the expert," Blaine says, tossing the towel into the sink. Careful not to cause another disaster, he sifts two cups of flour into the mixing bowl and then folds up the bag. He stops, examining the mess of flour still on the counter, and turns back to Kurt.
"You're not mad?" he asks, and Kurt's eyes roll up to the ceiling.
"Blaine," he sighs. "It's fine. I hardly expect my white shirt to stain from bleached flour."
"Let me at least make it up to you," Blaine offers as he unravels a few sheets of paper towels from over the sink. He runs the faucets lightly to dampen them and begins to mop up the mess on the marble countertop. "Your afternoon coffee is on me today."
"Well, I'm not going to say no to that," Kurt says. "But seriously, stop worrying so much or you'll give yourself an ulcer."
***
At Warbler practice, the council announces their three picks for Regionals-Misery by Maroon 5, a ballad to be determined, and Raise Your Glass by Pink. Nick looks over at Jeff when the Maroon 5 song is announced, but Jeff has his nose buried in Kurt's neck and doesn't notice. Everyone looks at Blaine when Pink is mentioned.
Most of the hour is spent breaking the songs down into their respective harmonies, establishing a working idea of some choreography, and throwing around ideas for the ballad. Blaine is asked for his opinion on the Raise Your Glass routine more than all three of the council members combined. At the end of the meeting, the council assigns individualized rehearsal times for each section and dismisses the group.
Blaine waits alone at the Lima Bean for twenty minutes before he decides to call Kurt, who apologizes for forgetting and promises to be on his way shortly.
"Sorry, sorry," he breathes when he finally arrives. Blaine already has his coffee waiting for him at one of their usual tables. Kurt drops his bag and flops into the chair. "I don't know where my head is today."
"In the clouds?" Blaine suggests, pushing the mocha across the table. Kurt's laugh is humbled as he accepts the cup.
"Good point," he says, shaking a finger at Blaine with the other hand. "I'll be sure to check there."
Blaine watches as Kurt take a sip of his drink, his eyes lilting closed. It's habitual, a little quirk that Blaine has noticed. It never fails to impress him how tranquil Kurt becomes at that first sip of coffee, as though all of his troubles evaporate at the taste. But today-as he has been all day, actually-there's something different about Kurt's abandon.
"Jeff is good for you, then?" Blaine asks, realizing at the confused look on Kurt's face that his train of thought wasn't necessarily apparent. "You seem happy," he clarifies.
"Yeah, I suppose," Kurt says. He places his coffee on the table and looks suddenly very interested in the cuff of his dress shirt.
"I have to admit, I was kind of surprised you didn't tell me you two were an item," Blaine says quietly. Kurt looks up.
"Oh, that didn't even occur to me," Kurt lies. "Everyone in school already assumed we were dating, I didn't even think to confirm it."
"I didn't," Blaine says. "Assume that," he adds when Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Just because two gay guys are close doesn't mean they're in love."
"Of course not, I mean, look at you and me," Kurt says somewhat stiffly. The look on Blaine's face is unreadable. "I'm just saying, it couldn't have come as too much of a shock, me and Jeff."
Blaine is quiet until Kurt changes the subject to glee club and the conversation progresses, even if it's somewhat belabored.
***
Jeff stops by David and Nick's dorm that evening with the excuse that he wants to discuss choreography for Misery. David moves the coffee table out of the way, and the two boys take over the common area. Nick, who was studying on the couch, takes his German textbook into his room about two bars into the opening verse. With Nick out of the room, Jeff appropriates the couch for some of the choreography (mostly in imitation of Blaine's love of parkour, which David finds absolutely hilarious). Despite a little bit of goofing around, David walks Jeff through some of the more intricate steps.
"And then it's a clockwise spin. I am in misery," he sings, covering his heart with both of his hands and spinning in place. Jeff mimics the choreography along with David, spinning just a moment behind him. David smiles when Jeff completes the turn. "That's gonna look really awesome with your Bieber hair."
"Hey, I've had this hair for longer than that kid's been alive," Jeff defends, and David laughs, swatting him across the shoulder.
"I'm just messin' with you, bro," he says. "But seriously, you've got these moves down. I'm not sure what you're so worried about."
"I'm a featured dancer," Jeff says. "I just want to be sure I do it right."
"You'll be fine," David waves him off. "Hey, you wanna play some Karaoke Revolution?" he asks, indicating the television over his shoulder.
"Sure," Jeff says. "Nick, do you wanna join us?" he calls into the next room but doesn't hear an answer back.
"He's been pouring over that textbook all day," David says quietly. "Think he's got a big test tomorrow."
"Ahhh," Jeff says. "Well, we should get a pizza or something if I'm going to stick around."
"Fire up the game and I'll call for delivery," David says, digging in his pocket for his phone.
Thirty minutes later, when half the pizza is gone and Jeff is obliterating Irreplaceable, there's a knock at the door. David leaps up to answer it, finding Trent in the archway with a puckered smile on his face.
"Someone is singing Beyoncé in here, and it ain't me," he tuts.
"Come on in!" David shouts, waving a half-eaten slice of pizza like a landing flag. "We've got pizza!"
"Girl, there better be sausage," Trent says as he comes into the room. "Mama likes meat."
"Yeah, I'm not even going to touch that one," David laughs as he closes the door behind him. Trent taps Jeff's ass before sitting down on the couch behind him.
"Hey, that's property of Kurt Hummel now," David warns as he sits down next to Trent. "I wouldn't mess with that booty if I were you."
"Oh, riiight," Trent croons. "Hummel's putting his scent all over this one."
"What?" David laughs at his choice of words. "I hope that doesn't mean what it sounds like?"
As Jeff finishes the last line of his song, he turns immediately to his friends. "You know, it's really rude to talk about someone when they're busy breaking down some Beyoncé."
"Payback," Trent shrugs. "That's what you get for singing my number one without my permission."
"Hold up, hold up, hold up," David interrupts, "I wanna go back to this scent-spreading thing, it sounds kinky."
Jeff's face gets considerably redder as he hands the microphone to Trent, who hops up from the couch to snatch it. "It's nothing," he says, taking the empty seat.
"Are you kidding me?" Trent huffs as he scrolled through the song selection on the television. "Dave, you should have seen the way those two were all up in each other's business at lunch today."
David turns to Jeff with wide, excited eyes. "Ooh la la!" he sings, rubbing his hands together. "I want details."
In spite of his slight embarrassment, Jeff smirks. "Okay, well, I was cold this morning in chemistry because I wasn't wearing my blazer, right?" He stretches his legs out in front of him and casts a look at the open bedroom door beyond Trent, elevating his voice just a little louder. "And Kurt did the sweetest thing and gave me his jacket to wear all day."
David gives his characteristic squeal that always comes out whenever he hears something particularly romantic. "That's so saccharine," he breathes.
"I know," Jeff sighs. "And I even asked him if he would be cold without it, and you know what he said?"
David props his elbows on his knees and leans forward. "What's that?"
"He said, 'Baby, as long as you're comfortable, that's all the warmth I need.'"
David falls back against the armrest, flailing and cackling. "He did not say that!" he cries. Jeff smirks.
"Well, only Kurt and I know the-"
The bedroom door slamming shut startles the rest of the words right out of Jeff's mouth. The three boys all turn to stare at the door, and Trent whistles low.
"What's with Debbie Downer?" he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
"I guess we were too loud," David decides. The two turn their attention back to the television as Trent selects Unfaithful by Rihanna. But Jeff, knot in the pit of his stomach, keeps looking at Nick's closed bedroom door.
Title: Love The One You're With (3/?)
Author: michygeary
Rating: PG/PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Kurt, Jeff, Nick, Blaine, others; various pairings.
Word Count: 4,200 (11,442 total so far)
Spoilers (if any): Takes place mid-season 2, just after Valentine's Day (2x12).
Warnings (if any): Multiship-friendly.
Summary: Kurt is in love with Blaine. Jeff is in love with Nick. The two of them team up to get what they want.
Author's Note: Kurt and Jeff are best friends. Kurt and Blaine are good friends. Nick and Jeff are acquaintances, sometimes friends, more often competitors. Diverges from canon mid-season 2. Without Sonja, I am nothing.
All chapters: One | Two | Three
Other Links: Scarves & Coffee | Quoth the Warbler
Kurt squints through his safety goggles, lifting the graduated cylinder up to eye level. He slowly pours the brown liquid from the beaker with his other hand, watching the meniscus rise steadily. He slows as it approaches the mark, then seesaws the beaker on the rim to allow just a few drops at a time. In his periphery, he can see the outline of Jeff's face slowly move into his eyeline. His smirk looks even wider through the curved glass of the beaker.
"I think you overshot it," he teases. "Maybe you should have poured it a little more carefully."
"Accuracy is twenty percent of our grade," Kurt retorts. "And I'm pedantic. Don't you know this about me by now?"
"It never fails to amuse me," Jeff says.
"You mean endear me to you?"
"Same thing," he shrugs. "So when do we get to drop the Mentos in?"
"Mentos?" Kurt asks, not looking up as he sets the beaker down and dumps the contents of the graduated cylinder into a test tube.
"It's this small minty breath freshener-" he starts, but Kurt cuts him off with a wave of his now-free hand.
"I know what it is, you moron, but why would we put it in our Bromine solution?"
"Because it looks like Diet Coke," Jeff supplies.
Kurt finally looks up from his work station, goggles rising with his eyebrows. "So?"
"'So'? Come on, didn't you ever drop Mentos into Diet Coke?"
Kurt's face contorts. "That's disgusting, why would anyone want to do that?"
"Not to drink, silly," says Jeff, rolling his eyes as he reaches over the counter to help Kurt mount the test tube over the Bunsen burner.
"Right, to cure polio, obviously?" Kurt posits, adjusting the tightness of the screw with one hand and keeping the test tube level with the other.
Jeff clicks his tongue. "Spoilers. If you've never done it, I'm not going to ruin the ending. Add that to our list of future date activities."
"I thought you said there wouldn't be any future dates?" Kurt asks.
"No, I said that you would have to impress me on our first date first."
Kurt's lips quirk into a smile at one corner. "So, I was good, then?"
Jeff maneuvers his hand carefully around the tower of equipment to lay it over Kurt's. "You were perfect."
Kurt's eyes flicker to the hand over his own and then back to his lab partner. "Pookie, if you make me drop this and we have to start all over, I will take your name off this lab report.
"You can't do that; I'm the one writing it."
"Then I'll tell everyone in glee club that you're a natural brunet."
Jeff gasps and yanks his hand back to clutch at his heart. "You wouldn't!"
"Try me!"
Jeff crosses his arms and pouts. "You're a mean mad scientist."
"Ha! You should see me in French."
Jeff scooches around to the other side of the table and sidles up next to Kurt. "Is that an invitation?"
"Pookie," Kurt warns, eyeing the Bunsen burner emphatically.
"Okay, okay." Jeff's shoulders fall, and he drops down into the seat next to Kurt. "I wish that Bunsen burner was bigger," he sighs. Kurt side-eyes him.
"Why?"
"'Cause I'm cold," he says, folding his arms across his chest.
"Why didn't you wear your blazer, then?" Kurt asks without taking his eyes off his work. Jeff shrugs.
"Felt like a sweater vest kind of day?"
"Well, that's stupid."
"Oh, like you've never woken up with a misguided fashion idea?" Jeff retorts. Kurt looks up and, even though his eyebrows are mostly obscured by the safety goggles, Jeff can tell that they're narrowed. Jeff humbles. "Okay, good point."
Kurt shakes his head. He continues to work but nods to the chair where his own blazer jacket hangs off the back. "Why don't you wear mine?"
Jeff perks up. "Really? You won't be cold?"
"Please, thermoregulation is my bitch."
Jeff walks around the table to pull the jacket off of the chair. He throws it around his shoulders without putting his arms through the sleeves and snuggles into it. "It's bigger than mine."
Kurt snorts but refrains from making a comment.
***
Blaine turns around quite a few times during the hour and fifteen minutes that he and Jeff share Philosophy class. Jeff sits three rows behind him and four chairs to the right, which means Blaine really has to crane his neck to see around his other classmates. At first, Jeff thinks he must just be imagining things, but somewhere around the sixth time Blaine looks back at him, he decides that something must be up.
The lesson is engaging enough (this week they're on Discourse on the Method and Principles of Philosophy) that Jeff almost forgets all about it by the time the bell rings at the end of class. It's not until he's halfway down the hallway and he hears the hurried footsteps of Blaine catching up to him that he remembers.
"Walk you to lunch?" Blaine offers as he falls in step with Jeff.
"Um, sure," Jeff shrugs. His stomach feels a little weird like he's anticipating reproach, despite the fact that he can't imagine what wrong he's done to Blaine. What he gets instead is several paces of awkward silence before he finally says, "So, what do you think of Descartes?" just to break the silence. "Kind of makes you start to question what's real, huh?"
"You could say that," Blaine agrees, and Jeff gets the distinct impression that he picked the wrong thing to say. They walk a few more steps before Blaine says, "You excited for glee tonight?"
"Yeah, should be good, should be good." Jeff can tell that Blaine has something else to say, but all this stalling is making the walk to the dining hall feel longer than usual. He fears they'll spend the rest of it in forced superficiality, but then-
"Oh, hey, is that Kurt's blazer?" Blaine asks, as though he only just noticed, in a tone which Jeff can only assume was meant to sound conversational but, given the last few minutes, comes across more non sequitur.
"Oh, yeah, it is," he says, looking down at it. "How did you know?"
"The... brooch," Blaine says, pointing to the breast pocket. "It's a hippo head. Kind of a tell."
"Oh!" Jeff touches it with his right hand. "I didn't even realize that was there." Blaine smiles and nods. "Oh, he only just gave it to me this morning," Jeff quickly adds, realizing what it looks like otherwise. "Chemistry class. I was cold. Didn't wear my own today."
"It's February," Blaine points out. Jeff laughs humbly.
"Yeah, I know. Idiot," he says, pointing to his own face with both thumbs.
"You're lucky to have such a great-" Blaine stops himself short, and Jeff feels a brief thrill of guilt over the conflict in his eyes. "Kurt is really thoughtful to do that," he finishes. Jeff just nods and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets as they continue their walk in silence.
When they arrive in the cafeteria, Jeff heads for the entrée stations while Blaine makes a beeline for the salad bar. A few of the Warblers are together at their usual center table, and Kurt is already sitting in his usual spot when Jeff arrives with a tray of shepherd's pie, cornbread and coffee. He settles into the empty chair next to Kurt and leans over.
"Had the most awkward conversation with Blaine on the way down here," he mutters so that the other three boys at their table won't hear. "But you may be interested to know that he can apparently differentiate your uniform jacket from everyone else's uniform jacket."
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to want details on that later." He nods his head to something over Jeff's shoulder, and Jeff turns around to see Blaine approaching the table with a Caesar salad in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He slows when he approaches the table, looking puzzled.
"Something wrong?" Kurt asks.
"Oh, no," Blaine dismisses, "I was just...trying to decide where to sit."
Jeff's eyes widen slightly as he looks back and forth between Kurt and Blaine and then down at his own tray. "Oh, I'm in your seat," he realizes.
"Well..."
"They're not assigned, silly," Kurt interrupts, waving his hand to an empty chair across the table. "Just sit where Jeff usually sits."
"I can move," Jeff offers and makes a grab for his tray.
"No, no, it's fine," Blaine says quickly. "Kurt's right, they're not assigned or anything. It doesn't matter, I'll just sit..." He makes his way around the table to put his plate and glass down between Thad and one of the freshman Warblers, Jeremy, who positively lights up to see him.
"Is that all you're eating?" Thad asks as Blaine pulls out his chair to sit down.
"What? It's got chicken in it," Blaine argues.
"Actually, I'm not sure you can call that chicken," Kurt remarks from across the table, and a few of the boys laugh. Blaine looks up to smile at him, catching his eye for a brief moment, but Kurt looks over at Jeff instead and winks. Blaine clears his throat and digs into his salad.
"So, the big reveal of the Regionals songs tonight," Thad announces with his best, booming voice. "Any guesses?"
"Bruno Mars!" a boy named James cries, despite a mouthful of food. He swallows quickly and throws his fists in the air, leaping out of his seat dramatically to belt out, "What you don't understand is I'd catch a grenade for ya!" Trent, who has just arrived at the table with Wes, jumps on the next line with a killer harmony. The rest of the boys join in and round out the remainder of the chorus in their respective vocal groups. There's a light amount of scattered applause from various tables across the cafeteria when they finish.
"That is a great guess," Thad says, grinning. "Anyone else?"
"I'm really feeling that new Enrique Iglesias song," Jeremy pipes up, looking directly at Blaine. "It's hot."
"Yes, well, obviously we'd have to do the censored version if we want to perform it at Regionals," Blaine replies politely.
Kurt immediately leans over to Jeff, who has just begun to sip his coffee, and presses his lips to his ear. "Pretend that I'm saying something dirty to you," he whispers.
Jeff snorts into his coffee and slams it down on the table, looking scandalized. "Kurt!" he hisses. "Not in public!"
"Something you boys want to share with the rest of the class?" Trent asks with a devilish smirk. Kurt and Jeff share a look and shake their heads.
"Am I missing Warbler talk?" Nick asks as he arrives at the table and takes the last empty seat next to Jeremy.
"You're missing Warbler scandal," Trent laughs, indicating Jeff and Kurt with a thrust of his chin.
"Wait, what?" Nick asks, smiling nervously as he sits down. Thad opens his mouth to comment, but Blaine speaks up.
"Personally, I hope we do Pink," he says.
"Blaine, your horrendous fashion ideas aside-" Trent begins, but Blaine cuts him off.
"Not the color, the singer," he says, averting his eyes as Kurt spoon-feeds Jeff some of his pudding. "Um, we had tremendous success with the competition audience when we did So What last year."
"Tiny makes a good point," Wes says, biting into his cheese pizza. "But I won't say any more until this afternoon."
"What do you think, Nick?" James asks. Nick's head snaps up from his lap where he has a German textbook open.
"I'm sorry," he says absently, "what was the question?"
"Ah, dream picks for Regionals songs," Blaine says. Just past Nick's head, he can see Jeff breaking off pieces of his chocolate chip cookie and feeding them to Kurt, who is licking and kissing the crumbs away from Jeff's fingers, both of them giggling behind their hands. He keeps Nick in focus.
"Oh, uh, I dunno," Nick says. "There's this great song by The Decemberists-"
"No one knows who that is, champ," Thad says, not looking up as he meticulously cuts his chicken marsala.
"Blaine does," Nick says, and Blaine nods. Thad rolls his eyes.
"Okay, let me rephrase that," he replies. "No one who matters at competition knows who that is."
Nick tosses a hand up in the air. "Fine. OneRepublic has come out with a few good ones lately. Like Secrets. Happy?"
"Quite!" Thad says, and Nick's eyes fall back to the textbook in his lap, muttering in German as his eyes rove over the text. Behind him, Jeff and Kurt trade Eskimo kisses.
***
"Blaine, would you hand me that measuring cup?"
"Which size?"
Kurt consults the recipe. "Ah, one-third, please."
Blaine fans out the measuring cups around their brass ring and unhooks the one-third. He passes it to Kurt, who retrieves it without a word and begins to measure out the skim milk. Blaine watches helplessly while Kurt hums cheerfully. After a few moments, he stops and looks up at Blaine expectantly.
"You can get started on the flour," he smiles, pointing his elbow at the Lazy Susan. His eyes flicker to the recipe. "It's two cups, sifted."
"Right," Blaine says, clapping and rubbing his hands together as Kurt turns back to the milk. Blaine crouches by the cupboard and turns the Lazy Susan until he stops on the flour. The bag, although not yet opened, is lightly dusted with flour on the outside; Blaine pinches it at the corners and lifts it, trying to keep the bag from touching his uniform as he drops it onto the counter between himself and Kurt. He examines it for a tab to tear the bag open and finds none. He digs his fingernails under the folds and attempts to pry them apart, but his fingers are still slick from measuring out the vegetable oil earlier. He grows increasingly frustrated as his fingers stab and grope at the bag to no avail. Finally, he grabs the front and back of the bag in both fists and yanks them apart. The bag erupts into a cloud of flour that covers both himself and Kurt.
"Oh, god," he stammers as he shoves the bag out of the way to examine the damage. Kurt blinks, stunned. His face is freckled in flour, but his tie and shirt got the brunt of it. "Oh, my god, Kurt, I'm so sorry, oh-" Blaine ignores the flour on his own blazer and tries to pat the flour off Kurt's clothes. To his surprise, Kurt laughs.
"It's all right, Blaine," he says, smiling as he swats Blaine's hand away. "Jeez, don't cry."
"I'm-I'm really sorry," Blaine repeats while Kurt opens a drawer under the sink and extracts a dishtowel. He swishes it under the faucet a few times, wrings it out, and then begins patting the flour off of his tie and shirt.
"It's not a big deal," Kurt assures him calmly. Blaine looks horrified with himself.
"It's not?" he asks, clearly unconvinced. Kurt snorts.
"No, why would it be?"
Blaine frowns. "You're so... careful and protective of your clothes, I..."
"Yeah, my clothes," says Kurt. "I've got ten of these ties, and I paid less for them than I normally do for one outfit. Same goes for m'pants." He dusts the rag over his leg where there's just a few flecks and cries, "Out, damned spot!" before handing the towel to Blaine. "Besides, I think you're worse off than I am."
Blaine finally looks down at his own blazer, currently more white than it is navy. "Oh, yeah," he says absently, taking the towel from Kurt and brushing it down his sleeves. Kurt smiles and turns back to the recipe. He resumes humming again as Blaine swipes the towel over his lapels and the bit of his tie that shows through the opening.
"It doesn't call for vanilla extract, but you won't tell if I throw a dash in, right?" Kurt asks.
"You're the expert," Blaine says, tossing the towel into the sink. Careful not to cause another disaster, he sifts two cups of flour into the mixing bowl and then folds up the bag. He stops, examining the mess of flour still on the counter, and turns back to Kurt.
"You're not mad?" he asks, and Kurt's eyes roll up to the ceiling.
"Blaine," he sighs. "It's fine. I hardly expect my white shirt to stain from bleached flour."
"Let me at least make it up to you," Blaine offers as he unravels a few sheets of paper towels from over the sink. He runs the faucets lightly to dampen them and begins to mop up the mess on the marble countertop. "Your afternoon coffee is on me today."
"Well, I'm not going to say no to that," Kurt says. "But seriously, stop worrying so much or you'll give yourself an ulcer."
***
At Warbler practice, the council announces their three picks for Regionals-Misery by Maroon 5, a ballad to be determined, and Raise Your Glass by Pink. Nick looks over at Jeff when the Maroon 5 song is announced, but Jeff has his nose buried in Kurt's neck and doesn't notice. Everyone looks at Blaine when Pink is mentioned.
Most of the hour is spent breaking the songs down into their respective harmonies, establishing a working idea of some choreography, and throwing around ideas for the ballad. Blaine is asked for his opinion on the Raise Your Glass routine more than all three of the council members combined. At the end of the meeting, the council assigns individualized rehearsal times for each section and dismisses the group.
Blaine waits alone at the Lima Bean for twenty minutes before he decides to call Kurt, who apologizes for forgetting and promises to be on his way shortly.
"Sorry, sorry," he breathes when he finally arrives. Blaine already has his coffee waiting for him at one of their usual tables. Kurt drops his bag and flops into the chair. "I don't know where my head is today."
"In the clouds?" Blaine suggests, pushing the mocha across the table. Kurt's laugh is humbled as he accepts the cup.
"Good point," he says, shaking a finger at Blaine with the other hand. "I'll be sure to check there."
Blaine watches as Kurt take a sip of his drink, his eyes lilting closed. It's habitual, a little quirk that Blaine has noticed. It never fails to impress him how tranquil Kurt becomes at that first sip of coffee, as though all of his troubles evaporate at the taste. But today-as he has been all day, actually-there's something different about Kurt's abandon.
"Jeff is good for you, then?" Blaine asks, realizing at the confused look on Kurt's face that his train of thought wasn't necessarily apparent. "You seem happy," he clarifies.
"Yeah, I suppose," Kurt says. He places his coffee on the table and looks suddenly very interested in the cuff of his dress shirt.
"I have to admit, I was kind of surprised you didn't tell me you two were an item," Blaine says quietly. Kurt looks up.
"Oh, that didn't even occur to me," Kurt lies. "Everyone in school already assumed we were dating, I didn't even think to confirm it."
"I didn't," Blaine says. "Assume that," he adds when Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Just because two gay guys are close doesn't mean they're in love."
"Of course not, I mean, look at you and me," Kurt says somewhat stiffly. The look on Blaine's face is unreadable. "I'm just saying, it couldn't have come as too much of a shock, me and Jeff."
Blaine is quiet until Kurt changes the subject to glee club and the conversation progresses, even if it's somewhat belabored.
***
Jeff stops by David and Nick's dorm that evening with the excuse that he wants to discuss choreography for Misery. David moves the coffee table out of the way, and the two boys take over the common area. Nick, who was studying on the couch, takes his German textbook into his room about two bars into the opening verse. With Nick out of the room, Jeff appropriates the couch for some of the choreography (mostly in imitation of Blaine's love of parkour, which David finds absolutely hilarious). Despite a little bit of goofing around, David walks Jeff through some of the more intricate steps.
"And then it's a clockwise spin. I am in misery," he sings, covering his heart with both of his hands and spinning in place. Jeff mimics the choreography along with David, spinning just a moment behind him. David smiles when Jeff completes the turn. "That's gonna look really awesome with your Bieber hair."
"Hey, I've had this hair for longer than that kid's been alive," Jeff defends, and David laughs, swatting him across the shoulder.
"I'm just messin' with you, bro," he says. "But seriously, you've got these moves down. I'm not sure what you're so worried about."
"I'm a featured dancer," Jeff says. "I just want to be sure I do it right."
"You'll be fine," David waves him off. "Hey, you wanna play some Karaoke Revolution?" he asks, indicating the television over his shoulder.
"Sure," Jeff says. "Nick, do you wanna join us?" he calls into the next room but doesn't hear an answer back.
"He's been pouring over that textbook all day," David says quietly. "Think he's got a big test tomorrow."
"Ahhh," Jeff says. "Well, we should get a pizza or something if I'm going to stick around."
"Fire up the game and I'll call for delivery," David says, digging in his pocket for his phone.
Thirty minutes later, when half the pizza is gone and Jeff is obliterating Irreplaceable, there's a knock at the door. David leaps up to answer it, finding Trent in the archway with a puckered smile on his face.
"Someone is singing Beyoncé in here, and it ain't me," he tuts.
"Come on in!" David shouts, waving a half-eaten slice of pizza like a landing flag. "We've got pizza!"
"Girl, there better be sausage," Trent says as he comes into the room. "Mama likes meat."
"Yeah, I'm not even going to touch that one," David laughs as he closes the door behind him. Trent taps Jeff's ass before sitting down on the couch behind him.
"Hey, that's property of Kurt Hummel now," David warns as he sits down next to Trent. "I wouldn't mess with that booty if I were you."
"Oh, riiight," Trent croons. "Hummel's putting his scent all over this one."
"What?" David laughs at his choice of words. "I hope that doesn't mean what it sounds like?"
As Jeff finishes the last line of his song, he turns immediately to his friends. "You know, it's really rude to talk about someone when they're busy breaking down some Beyoncé."
"Payback," Trent shrugs. "That's what you get for singing my number one without my permission."
"Hold up, hold up, hold up," David interrupts, "I wanna go back to this scent-spreading thing, it sounds kinky."
Jeff's face gets considerably redder as he hands the microphone to Trent, who hops up from the couch to snatch it. "It's nothing," he says, taking the empty seat.
"Are you kidding me?" Trent huffs as he scrolled through the song selection on the television. "Dave, you should have seen the way those two were all up in each other's business at lunch today."
David turns to Jeff with wide, excited eyes. "Ooh la la!" he sings, rubbing his hands together. "I want details."
In spite of his slight embarrassment, Jeff smirks. "Okay, well, I was cold this morning in chemistry because I wasn't wearing my blazer, right?" He stretches his legs out in front of him and casts a look at the open bedroom door beyond Trent, elevating his voice just a little louder. "And Kurt did the sweetest thing and gave me his jacket to wear all day."
David gives his characteristic squeal that always comes out whenever he hears something particularly romantic. "That's so saccharine," he breathes.
"I know," Jeff sighs. "And I even asked him if he would be cold without it, and you know what he said?"
David props his elbows on his knees and leans forward. "What's that?"
"He said, 'Baby, as long as you're comfortable, that's all the warmth I need.'"
David falls back against the armrest, flailing and cackling. "He did not say that!" he cries. Jeff smirks.
"Well, only Kurt and I know the-"
The bedroom door slamming shut startles the rest of the words right out of Jeff's mouth. The three boys all turn to stare at the door, and Trent whistles low.
"What's with Debbie Downer?" he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
"I guess we were too loud," David decides. The two turn their attention back to the television as Trent selects Unfaithful by Rihanna. But Jeff, knot in the pit of his stomach, keeps looking at Nick's closed bedroom door.