It's Love's Illusions I Recall for SWEETMINK
Title: It's Love's Illusions I Recall
Recipient: sweetmink
Author/Artist: pushplaytobegin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,922
Summary: Blaine decides Kurt's self-esteem needs a boost and puts on his mentor hat to help, but after awhile, Kurt begins to suspect Blaine has ulterior motives.
Notes: sweetmink, there is definitely serendipity at work in the world. Hope you like this!
"Good morning," Blaine said, as he slid into the seat next to Kurt at breakfast. He leaned over to glance at the newspaper spread out across the table. "Anything interesting going on?
Kurt sighed. "Terms of Endearment is playing at the revival theater."
"Cool. Are you going?"
"Mmm. Probably not."
"Why not? You shouldn't miss out on an experiences just because it's unconventional. If something's really important to you, you should go for it."
Before Kurt could respond, David sat down across the table. "What unconventional experience is Mr. Hummel going to miss?"
Wes joined them. "What's going on?"
David speared a forkful of Wes's fruit cup. "Mr. Hummel is missing out on life."
"I'm not," insisted Kurt.
"There's nothing wrong with going to a chick flick by yourself," Blaine said.
"I know," Kurt said. "That's why I've seen Steel Magnolias, Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, two dozen other chick flicks and every musical released since 1962 on the big screen, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mercedes and the girls."
Blaine's tipped his head quizzically. "Then why the sigh?"
"I was reliving fond memories," Kurt said, "not regretting a sad, pathetic life radically circumcised by social norms." He extended an apologetic glance to Wes and David. "Sorry. Poor choice of words. The point is, I'm not missing out. Carpe diem, boys. Unless there's a neanderthal lying in wait to shove you through a concrete wall." He sipped his green tea. "Sometimes, even then."
"So you're a seize-the-day kind of guy."
"I like to think so."
"Nothing you wouldn't do?"
"Shop at Wal Mart? Stick my tongue against a metal pole in January?"
"Go to chick flick with another guy?" Blaine asked.
Kurt nearly spit out his tea.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why not?"
Kurt shrugged and studied the newspaper until it gently began to creep out of his hands. He smacked David's fingers away from where he was tugging on it and glared at him. Wes and David waited expectantly for his answer.
Kurt made an exasperated noise and turned to Blaine, who waggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Well?"
What was he supposed to say? That he could strut the halls of McKinley dressed like Lady Gaga, stand up to two football players who outweighed him by two hundred pounds, sing traditionally female solos to anyone who - and as many as - would listen, but his mouth got dry at the thought of having a boy sit next to him as he sniffled over Debra Winger's demise.
"Hot chicks tend to have low self esteem, because they think guys just want their bodies," David said. "They have a hard time believing somebody could love them for who they really are."
Kurt rubbed his forehead from the conversational whiplash. "I beg your pardon?"
"David's right, Kurt," Wes said. "When you're singing or showing off your latest fashion acquisition, you're the most confident guy in the room. Put you in a school uniform and take you to a party, and you try to blend in with the furniture. You look positively grateful when somebody talks to you. Grateful isn't going to get you dates." He frowned at him. "Sometimes, being grateful can get you in trouble."
Kurt's face was flaming now. He couldn't stand being the center of attention if this was going to be the topic. "Excuse me. I need to get to class."
"Kurt." Blaine placed a hand on his arm as Kurt rose to leave. "Wes is right. You're sure of yourself in so many ways; why pull into your shell when someone's trying to appreciate you for you?"
Kurt tried to stare Blaine down, but Blaine simply looked puzzled and concerned. Because nobody ever appreciates me for me, Kurt thought. It's either a joke, or a set-up, or they need something I have and want to flatter me out of it.
"Why don't we go see Terms of Endearment together?" Blaine asked. "We'll pretend it's a date. It'll be good for you. Overcome some of those self-esteem barriers." His tone said, That's settled, but his eyes held a questioning look.
Kurt couldn't decide whether the idea of going to a movie with Blaine on a pretend date was the best or worst idea in the world. On one hand, it was true: A dry run could smooth out some of the awkwardness he was bound to feel on a first date. On the other hand... Blaine sitting next to him as a pretend date could be torture.
Except people on dates were allowed to hold hands. Link arms. Let their heads rest on one another's shoulders. Even if it were only one night and only role-play...
"Okay," said Kurt. "The movie starts at 7:45. I'll pick you up at 7:00."
A look of surprise crossed Blaine's face, and then he grinned. "That's great, Kurt. It'll be fun."
---
It was, too. Blaine coached him on timing and nonverbal communication, leaned his head on his shoulder, and Kurt even handed him a handkerchief when he heard Blaine's breathing change at a poignant moment in the film.
In fact, it was so much fun, they did it again. Repeatedly.
Kurt's initial uneasiness with non-dating Blaine faded as he grew more comfortable with asking him out, stopping by his dorm room, learning how to negotiate who paid for what, picking up the subtle cues of when to reach for his hand. He even put his arm around Blaine once. Half the time, they'd split up at the end of the night with Blaine saying, "Okay, next week's my turn." It was like their own personal acting workshop.
They deconstructed dating dynamics and discussed the different ways certain actions could be interpreted. They watched other couples, sometimes mocking them and other times in reflective silence. They talked about what would make a perfect date and what would be perfectly awful. They laughed a lot. On rare occasions, one of them would describe a someday, maybe, someone, scenario and the other would smile and say, "Yeah, that would be great." It was friendly and experimental and from time to time one of them would be shy, but mostly, it was like hanging out and watching a movie, commenting on good bits of dialog or plot points that failed, except in this case, the movie was their Friday or Saturday nights.
Sure, there was the twinge - or stab - of disappointment when Kurt watched Blaine's back disappearing down the hall alone, but the satisfaction of the evening's fun and anticipation of the next night out helped to obscure the pain. When they were together, Kurt found it fairly simple to push away the regret that it was all a sham.
The thought that it was going to end badly only hit him once, but once was all he needed.
"So," Blaine said one night on their way back to the dorm, "you seem to be getting the hang of things. Are you feeling better about a guy wanting to talk to you, take you out, be with you, just for the sake of being with you?"
"Mmm," Kurt said, swinging their linked hands. "It's not as hard now as it was when we started."
"Good," Blaine said. "Sometimes you just need someone else to tell you what you already suspect, but don't quite believe enough. You just have to trust yourself. Take that leap."
Trust yourself. Take the leap.
Kurt let their hands stop swinging. Hadn't he heard that before from Blaine? Didn't it sound an awful lot like Courage? Something Blaine hadn't had a whole lot of in the past, in some situations, but had been eager to promote as a solution to Kurt's problems?
They walked the remainder of the way in silence, Kurt thinking furiously, and Blaine humming something bright and soft to protect them from the frosty evening.
---
Kurt knocked on Wes's door before breakfast the next morning, and Wes opened it, naked from the waist up and covered in maroon Dalton sweatpants from the waist down. "Hey, Kurt. Come on in. What's up?"
Kurt dropped onto the bed opposite Wes's. He placed his messenger bag beside him and took a deep breath. "Wes, has Blaine done much dating?"
Wes frowned. "Have you asked Blaine?" He grabbed his antiperspirant out of a travel bag on the bed.
"I will," Kurt said. "I wanted to ask you first. Blaine can be... evasive."
Wes shook his head in warning. "I know what you mean, and I'm not unsympathetic, but I don't feel right talking about Blaine's personal business. What's this about? Another one of your non-dates?"
"Sort of." Kurt leaned back on his elbows and stared at the ceiling while Wes got ready. He didn't want to make Wes feel uncomfortable. "I wondered if he'd asked a lot of people out."
"What do you think? He's attractive, intelligent, involved in a lot of clubs, and he's genuinely nice to people."
Kurt let himself fall flat on the bed, dejected. Of course he was wrong. Blaine was popular. Blaine wasn't using Kurt to vicariously experience the things he was afraid to do, and he wasn't tagging along with Kurt because there were things he was afraid to do alone. Blaine had dated a lot, and Kurt really was Blaine's Self-Esteem Project of the Month.
"Right," sighed Kurt. He sat up to leave. He'd learned what he came for. "He's probably gone out with every gay guy at Dalton at least once."
"I said think, Kurt. Not assume." There was a slight note of annoyance in Wes's voice, and Kurt sat up a bit straighter and looked at him. "What did David say a few weeks ago about hot chicks and self-esteem?"
"Low. They had trouble believing people would like them for themselves. But that's not Blaine."
Wes shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe not. But if it were, how many people do you think he'd have asked out on dates?" He picked up a clean shirt from where he'd laid out his clothes on the bed.
"I don't know," Kurt said. "In the two years he's been here? Five. Six." Although that sounded absurdly low.
Wes gave him a thumbs down.
Surprised, Kurt thought about the couple combinations at McKinley, with Santana and Brittany at one end of the spectrum, and Kurt at the other. What was in the middle? "Two or three?" Kurt guessed.
Wes unselfconsciously slid his sweatpants off, stepped into his school trousers, and gave Kurt another thumbs down.
Kurt's brain popped out of gear, but he wasn't sure whether it was because Wes was getting dressed in front of Kurt as though nothing could be more normal, or at the confirmation that Blaine didn't ask guys out much, if at all.
"Zero?" he asked, his voice too high.
Wes raised his arms to the sky in a pose that said, finally! He sat down and started putting on his socks and shoes. "That number you first mentioned is closer to the number of guys who have asked him out," he said. "To be honest - and this isn't breaking any confidence, because this is my own observation and judgment - I've never known Blaine to spend so much time with an individual, not the way he's been doing with you, and it's certainly never gone on this long. That's all I feel comfortable saying, Kurt. I hope it helps."
By their next non-date, Blaine's roommate had also confirmed Kurt's suspicions that Blaine hadn't gone to any chick flicks, with other guys or alone. He downloaded them and watched them in his room. He also hadn't done any of the other date-like things he'd been encouraging Kurt to initiate.
Self-esteem my sweet ass, Kurt thought. He's been using me as a body double.
---
They drove to Columbus for a midweek showing of The Wizard of Oz at a gay nightclub. Kurt guessed the club was trying to draw business on a slow night. He and Blaine would certainly be turned away if someone tagged them as underage, but it was worth a shot, and Kurt had chosen their outfits and styled their hair. He thought they had a 60/40 chance of getting in. He'd toyed with the idea of breaking the date or sabotaging their look so their clothes would scream I'm a curious gay teen, but despite his growing anger at Blaine's charade, he genuinely felt like seeing the movie, and he'd never been to a nightclub. While he worked for his dad, he'd delivered Mr. Graham's car to him at work a few times, so he'd seen the inside of a neighborhood tavern, but that was a far cry from a gay bar.
They arrived slightly later than the advertised time. The movie was being shown in the restaurant, which was adjacent to and separate from the dance club and bar, and they weren't carded. They found seats, and Kurt found himself surreptitiously watching the men around him more than the film. The restaurant was spotless; the food unremarkable; the decor expensive and just this side of ostentatious.
As Margaret Hamilton wailed that she was melting, Blaine leaned over and whispered, "Have you ever been to a club before?"
Kurt shook his head.
"Do you want to see if we can get in?"
Kurt shrugged. If Blaine wanted to satisfy his curiosity, he could go ahead.
Blaine rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt felt his stomach twist in a thousand agonizing turns at the touch.
"It would be nice to dance, if we can, since we're here and all."
Blaine was using that low, seductive rumble that made Kurt's insides flip-flop. He kind of hated Blaine for it right now. What would a man with high self-esteem do if his date asked if they could stay and dance? Would it be different from what a man with high self-esteem would do if he knew he was being used as a safety blanket, so the other person could work up the nerve to do what they couldn't muster the courage to do alone?
Kurt snickered bitterly, wishing he could tell Blaine to go to hell. It was true, though. They were already here, and they'd probably never get a better opportunity. "Sure, we can give it a shot. Do you think our chances are better if we go now, or wait for the movie to end?"
Blaine studied the door that led from the restaurant to the club. "Now. The doorman's on break or something."
Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt's as they stood up and threaded their way through the tables at the back, so as not to obscure the view of other patrons. Kurt's ire rose, but he didn't pull his hand away. He pulled the door to the dance club open, and Blaine caught it, holding it for Kurt to go first. Of course.
The space was dark; at least, darker than the restaurant had been. The bar to the left of the door glittered in a shining pool of light, but the rest of the room lay in shadows. Blue, violet, and green track lights dominated, and white accents illuminated enough for Kurt to plot a path along the wall away from the bar. A band had already set up. The bass player was tuning up while the others waited for the signal that the movie had ended.
Kurt didn't catch the signal, but the drummer did. He twirled his sticks, smacked them together on the beat, and the group roared into their first number. Moments later, men began entering from the restaurant, seating themselves at tables or hitting the dance floor with their partners.
"What do you want to do?" Blaine half-shouted in his ear.
"I thought you wanted to dance," Kurt half-shouted back.
"I do," Blaine said, in that low, rumbly voice, right next to his ear. "Are you going to ask me?"
Kurt turned his head so fast that he nearly clocked Blaine with his nose. "Blaine," he yelled over the music, "I've been asking people to dance since I was four. I don't need practice in that."
To prove it, he stalked over to the bar, where a slender man in a too-big leather jacket sat on a bar stool, leaning against the wall and watching the dancers. He was bleached blond like a swimmer, his face was smooth and serious, and he might have been in his late 20s or early 30s. He watched Kurt approach with a blank expression.
"Would you care to dance?" Kurt asked, overcompensating to hide his nervousness and sounding a bit more haughty than he intended. Sure, he'd asked people his own age to dance before, but never a guy at least ten years older. In a gay bar.
The man narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side as though he'd never heard the question before. He looked at the bartender, who seemed amused.
"Sure," he said, pushing off the bar stool. "One dance. Then you and your boyfriend leave."
"Excuse me?" Kurt said, startled.
The man peeled off his leather jacket, which Kurt realized flapped around the waist and hips, but strained against his upper body. The guy had arms as thick as Kurt's thighs. He grabbed Kurt's hand and walked onto the dance floor, swaying his hips. "Meet the weekend doorman," he shouted. "I came in for a drink, but hey, I don't mind busting a kid on my off night."
Kurt closed his eyes. This night could not possibly get any worse.
"Oh, don't look like that." The guy actually squeezed his hand before he let go and began to move to the music. "Anybody else probably wouldn't have noticed. You could almost pass for 21. It's actually kind of impressive. Spotting kids isn't usually much of a challenge."
"What gave me away?" Kurt said.
"Pure instinct. I've been doing this a long time. Believe me, most of the under-21 crowd who try to get in here are either on a dare or trying too hard. You got an ID?"
Kurt nodded.
"Hand it over."
Kurt tugged his driver's license out of his pocket and handed it over. The man looked at it, then gave it a second, harder look, and burst out laughing. He handed it back to Kurt. "I meant, do you have a fake ID."
"Oh," said Kurt. He felt like a complete idiot. "No. We came for the movie and thought as long as we were here, we'd try dancing a little."
"How come you're not dancing with your boyfriend?"
The floodgates opened.
"First of all, he's not my boyfriend." Kurt practically spat out the words. He sounded bitchier than he wanted to, but far less bitchy than he actually felt. "Second, dancing was his idea, not mine. Third, he evidently didn't want to dance badly enough to ask me, so I figured I'd let him work it out on his own."
The song ended, but the man grabbed his hand and kept him on the floor as the band segued into the next number.
"Sweetheart, he may not have asked you to dance, but that's exactly what he wants. He can't take his eyes off of you. No - don't look over there, not yet. Look at me."
"He only wants me to ask because he's afraid to do it himself," Kurt shouted, frustration boiling over. "Helping me overcome dating jitters is just another one of his counterintelligence cover stories, and it's crap! I feel like a science project, and it feels like crap. I feel like crap. Why doesn't he ask me out? Is he using me to work up the nerve to ask somebody else out?"
He stopped. Here he was, in the middle of a gay bar, ranting to a complete stranger. Who was going to bounce him.
Those huge arms reached out, and the man took his hands, pulling him close and placing Kurt's hands on his hips. He draped his arms around Kurt's neck and leaned in so he wouldn't have to speak quite so loudly. Kurt could smell sweat, the slightly sweet scent of liquor on his breath, and the rich, earthy fragrance of the leather jacket the man had been wearing. He wanted to back off and lean in at the same time, so he simply kept his hands lightly at the man's waist.
"I'm going to tell you something, Kurt. Sometimes you can be best friends with someone for nearly four years, or close to ten, and when you finally get up the nerve to tell them you want more - when you've waited so long that you're absolutely sure they feel the same way - they can still surprise you. And it hurts like hell. Nobody likes to be rejected, Kurt. Asking a good friend to be more than that might seem safer, but it can take a million times more guts than asking to go home with a nameless guy who looks good from across the room." The man let his arms rest atop Kurt's shoulders and he smiled, but his eyes were sharp, a mixture of regret and anger.
After a moment, Kurt said, "How did you know my name?"
The man laughed again, easily. "Your driver's license. I'm Nate." He held out his hand, and Kurt shook it. Nate didn't let go. "I don't ever want to see you here ever again, you understand? At least, not until you're 21. In the meantime, there's an under-21 club a couple blocks over. Same owner. If you and your not-boyfriend want to dance together there, it's a safe place to go. Now, I'm going to walk you back to the bar, and you and your not-boyfriend are going to leave. And if your not-boyfriend is not-concerned that I've been hanging all over you and holding your hand, it will give you some data to start your own science project."
He kept Kurt's hand in his as they walked back to the bar, and he wrote down the name and address of the under-21 club on a napkin. Nate pulled him into a hug and whispered, "Well, he's definitely still got his eye on you," and Kurt turned to find Blaine watching him uncertainly from the far end of the bar. Kurt's stomach rolled in a flood of confusion. He knew one thing for sure, though.
"We have to leave," Kurt said, as he strode past Blaine. "We've been made."
---
Kurt drove in silence, thinking about the very odd feeling of dancing with someone both older and a stranger; about skating on the thin ice of doing something illegal; about the discovery of the under-21 club, and about Blaine. Careful, calculating, cowardly Blaine, who felt something for Kurt, but evidently not enough.
"I think I'm ready to stop practicing and date for real," Kurt announced.
He heard Blaine shift to look at him. "Really?"
Kurt nodded.
"Did that guy give you his phone number?"
"What? No." Kurt felt his desire for revenge lift a fraction. Blaine might not be exactly jealous, but he'd been watching Kurt, if that little gesture hadn't escaped his notice.
"Are you thinking of dating anyone in particular?"
"As a matter of fact, I am. I've wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of what you'd say. I don't think you like him very much."
"What makes you say that?" Blaine sounded tense.
"Because of the way you treat him. When he wants to do something, you tell him not to bother. You discourage him."
There was utter silence in the car. Kurt could almost hear Blaine ripping through the catalog of his brain, going through the names of all the people Kurt could possibly be referring to.
"I didn't know I treated anyone like that," Blaine said. "Who is it? I can't believe you haven't said anything to me before now."
"I didn't want to argue about it. I thought it might make things complicated if I were dating someone you didn't like."
Blaine was quiet. Kurt let him turn things over in his mind. "Are you guys close?"
"Yeah."
"And you've known him how long?"
"We met right before I transferred."
"Before you transferred?" Kurt can practically hear Blaine thrashing the contents of his brain, like a burglar searching for valuables. "You've been hiding this relationship for months because you thought I wouldn't approve?"
"I haven't been hiding anything. We're just friends. I've wanted more for awhile now, but haven't had the nerve to say anything. I should probably thank you, because if it weren't for the dating practice, I probably wouldn't be ready to talk to him about it."
Blaine reached over to turn off the radio that had been playing low beneath their conversation. The only sound remaining was the hum of the highway. When Blaine spoke again, his voice held a quiet note of pain.
"I thought we were friends, Kurt. I thought we could talk to each other about anything."
Kurt's spitefulness dipped for a split second and gave way to compassion. "We are, Blaine. You're my best friend. At Dalton," he added, spitefulness returning. Mercedes was his best friend outside Dalton, but if Blaine thought he was talking about someone else, that would be just fine.
"Well, why would you worry I won't like him?"
Kurt thought for a moment. "He can take the road of least resistance. Sometimes he doesn't have the courage of his convictions. When he's on familiar ground, he's confident enough. But when he's in unfamiliar territory, he can stand back and let other people pick up the slack. He can also be manipulative, making up elaborate stories to camoflage what could have been an honest, straightforward request."
"Sounds like a real stand-up guy." Blaine's voice was flat.
"He has some very good qualities."
"Ah. The 'you don't know them like I do' defense." Blaine watched the road for awhile. "I'm glad you've found someone you like." He sounded anything but glad, and Kurt began to feel the scales of justice (or at least getting even) swinging in his favor. "I worry, though. If you have to make excuses for his flaws and bad behavior, if you have to hide him from me - wait, have you introduced him to Mercedes?"
"Mm-hm." Kurt looked at Blaine out of the corner of his eye and watched him frown. This was good. "She isn't sure I should make the first move. She isn't sure he deserves me."
"Well, does he?"
Kurt didn't answer.
"Seriously," Blaine continued. "It doesn't sound like he appreciates you. You've known him this long, you've been wanting more, and you're still just friends. Doesn't he know a good thing when he sees it?"
"That's a really good question, Blaine. Don't you know a good thing when you see it?"
The silence was deafening.
Kurt gripped the steering wheel to calm himself. He could think of nearly a thousand reasons Blaine might have for not asking him out. He couldn't stop himself from running through the lists he'd been keeping for years. Flaws: 834, divided into physical, mental, emotional, and five different skill sets. Failures: 125. He'd lopped a lot off that list, allowing for age. He couldn't condemn himself for stupid things he'd done when he was little. Not all of them, at any rate.
None of those mattered, though, as much as Blaine's reasons for deeming Kurt inappropriate dating material.
"I'm the guy?" Blaine managed to ask, weakly.
"You've been manipulating me for weeks. All this dating practice has been for you as much as for me. I don't know why you used me - used me, Blaine - to boost your own courage. I don't know why you don't like yourself enough to go up to someone you're attracted to and ask him out. And I'm angry, because you lied to me." He glared at Blaine. "I thought friends were supposed to be honest with each other.
"I can't regret the whole charade, because I had fun. I learned a lot. I really am more confident than I was, but part of me thinks we could have spent the time better. You, with someone you're actually interested in. And me, with someone I actually stand a chance with." There. He'd said it.
He let the silence drag on until he simply couldn't stand it anymore. How dare Blaine orchestrate this. He hated him for lying, for teasing, for making rejection an ambiguous act of omission, instead of flat-out explaining why Kurt didn't measure up. He hated knowing his desperation was audible beneath his anger when he asked, "What's wrong with me, Blaine? You like me well enough to flirt with and go on pretend dates, but I obviously fall short of some elevated standard. Just tell me what it is, so I can learn from it and move on."
"Nothing," Blaine said heavily. "There's nothing wrong with you, Kurt. You're perfect. It's me. I was afraid to ask you out. I didn't know what you'd say."
"You'll never know," Kurt snapped. He should be relieved, but he was still angry. "You'll never know until you ask."
They drove back to school in silence, Kurt brooding over how ridiculous it was to let being perfect stand in the way of being happy.
They pulled into Dalton and Kurt turned off the engine. They sat in the thick silence, Kurt tapping on the steering wheel and Blaine staring out the passenger's window.
Finally, Blaine turned in his seat to face him. Kurt glanced over at him, but couldn't read his expression. When he spoke, his voice was low and uncertain.
"You do remember Wes and David pointing out that you try to blend into the furniture at social functions, don't you?"
"Those functions aren't parties. I have no trouble holding my own at parties. At a function, in a school uniform... school blazers are like upholstery; of course I blend in with the furniture. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You remember when we saw Terms of Endearment?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, even though he knew Blaine probably couldn't see it in the dark. "Of course."
"David was right. You're so afraid of being rejected, you never put yourself out there. So I went to that movie with you. If you're going to date, you have to risk."
"You don't," Kurt retorted. "You play it safe. You've been letting me take all the risks."
"I don't think you understand. I'd seen the movie before, with another guy, in the theater. I'm a sap for that movie. I cried, and afterward, he teased me about it. We didn't go out again. If he'd tease me about getting emotional at a movie, what would happen when I got upset about something really important? I was terrified to put myself through that again. Even though I was pretty confident you wouldn't judge me, I still felt uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure you heard the exact moment when I lost the battle to keep from crying, but you didn't say anything. You just handed me a handkerchief."
"Fine. You took one risk. You still don't ask guys out."
"I don't have to. They ask me. I'm not sitting around and waiting for guys to ask me out, Kurt. I'm living my life. There's more to life than dating. Besides, there's only one person at Dalton I'm remotely interested in on a romantic level, and I've been spending most of my free time with him. In fact, I even asked him out. I suggested we go to Terms of Endearment, remember?" He waited for Kurt to respond, but when he didn't, he shrugged and kept going. "All the times we went out, you kept getting more confident and comfortable, and I kept wondering, what's so hard about those words, 'Hey, Blaine - let's date for real.' But you never said them."
"Why should I?" Kurt snapped.
Blaine turned back to the passenger window, and Kurt felt a surge of vindication. When Blaine spoke again, embarrassment underscored his words. "I had hoped that you wanted to."
I did want to, Kurt thought. I've wanted to date you since you first sang to me.
"I had to ask myself, is he afraid I'll say no? Is he as afraid as I am of hearing that word? If both of us prefer to leave a question unasked because we're afraid of the answer, what does that imply for far more difficult discussions? I thought pretending to date would be a good way to build your confidence and make it clear what my answer would be. I know things haven't gone well with you in the past, but if you can't tell that you have a better chance with me than with your straight quarterback stepbrother - "
"Better isn't good enough. I want to know I won't be rejected again."
"Honestly, Kurt. I don't know how much safer I can make myself. I don't know how much more clear I can be. I've been careful to give you no evidence, no evidence at all, that I'd turn you down if you asked. Not since we've been... doing whatever we've been doing."
"What have we been doing?" Kurt ran his hand over the circumference of the steering wheel. What had they been doing? They'd been avoiding the scary questions. Taking the easy road.
"I hoped we'd been getting you more comfortable with asking someone out on a date. Apparently not. At least, you don't seem to be getting any closer to asking me out. Which must mean you don't want me as much as I'd hoped.
"The longer I waited, the less I worried about rejection, because it seemed like we were so good together. I started to worry more about..." Blaine shook his head and let out an sigh. "Oh, hell. I worried you'd tell me you didn't want to date me, but you'd be glad to escalate to other kinds of 'practice.' I can't be friends with benefits, Kurt. Maybe some people can, but I can't.
"Then I saw that guy write down what I thought was his phone number, and you started talking about asking some other guy out... I had a moment where I thought it might be worth it to be with you, even if you just wanted the experience more than you wanted me. That's how much of a good thing I think you are, Kurt, that I actually, seriously considered it.
Kurt felt his mouth go dry.
"I owe you an apology, Kurt, for manipulating you. I never meant to make you doubt yourself or what you mean to me. I wanted to make myself safe, so you wouldn't feel like you were taking a risk by asking me out. I failed, obviously. Either you don't want me at all, which I can't quite believe, or you don't want me enough to take that last little step. It hurts to know I want you more than you want me. And now -"
"Stop talking," Kurt said. His heart pounded. "It's not true. I thought this was just a project to you. I thought you were using me."
"Kurt -"
"Be quiet. Let me say this. I do want to go out with you for real. I don't want you to think I want it less than you do. It's not for the experience, either. It's just for you."
Blaine slouched against the corner of the passenger's seat and the door. He wiped his face with his hand. "I'm sweating," he muttered absently. "I'm so nervous."
Kurt hesitated, then stretched his arm out. "Come over here."
"No," Blaine said. "The steering wheel's in the way. You come over here."
Kurt felt an objection rising, but he realized how truly stupid that would be right now, so he scooted to Blaine's side of the Escalade and draped his legs over his lap. "Let's never do anything like this again. No pretending, okay? Just... can we promise to tell each other stuff, no matter how hard it is?"
Blaine sighed and reached up to Kurt's collar. He ran his finger over the stiff material and pulled it away from Kurt's neck, leaning in and pressing his lips against his skin. Kurt shivered. "I promise."
Kurt stared at Blaine's lips as he withdrew. "We never had a good-night kiss."
"Some things should never be pretend."
Their faces were so close, Kurt could feel Blaine's breath as he spoke. Kurt lifted his hand to Blaine's face and touched him. Blaine closed his eyes. Kurt ran his fingers along Blaine's jaw lightly and listened to Blaine's breathing deepen. His fingers traced Blaine's hairline, swept back along the side of his neck beneath his ear, his thumb stroking his jaw, then bringing his hand forward to rub his thumb against Blaine's lower lip. His heart quickened, knowing he had permission to touch like this. He ran two fingers over the shell of Blaine's ear and Blaine breathed in through his mouth sharply, his lips parting. Kurt did it again, and this time Blaine shuddered and dipped his ear toward his neck. "Tickles," he said, his voice rough.
Kurt hummed and did it again, and Blaine inhaled and leaned back to move out of Kurt's reach, which amused Kurt, considering he was sitting on Blaine's lap. Blaine had his head tipped back as far as it would go, and Kurt leaned over and brazenly licked the exposed line of his throat. Blaine made a satisfying choking sound and his hips ground up against Kurt. He shot forward from where he'd been pressing back, eyes wide and apologetic. "Kurt, I'm so sorry. I just - "
"It tickles?" Kurt asked.
"It - no, it feels good, it's just..."
"Let me do it again."
After a moment of indecision, Blaine squeezed Kurt's arm once, hard, then leaned back. Kurt touched his chin encouragingly, and Blaine sighed and lifted his chin. Kurt rested his head on his shoulder, and Blaine's arms came up around him. He licked Blaine's throat again and Blaine breathed his name and his arms tightened against his waist. Kurt mouthed his neck and felt Blaine tense all over; he licked and kissed and sucked hard against the skin of his neck and throat until Blaine began to rock his hips uselessly, the rhythm punctuated with gasps and moans that twisted Kurt's gut in delightful ways.
Blaine's neck was warm and wet, his breathing ragged, when Kurt slowed and stopped. He shoved Kurt's legs off his lap and circled his other arm around Kurt's waist, rotating him so he faced away from Blaine, and pushing him forward so he sat between Blaine's spread legs.
"What are you doing?" Kurt protested.
"Cooling off," Blaine said. "And cooling you off. Did you notice how warm it's gotten in here?" His voice had that slow, patient tone, as though they had all the time in the world, and Kurt's toes curled. "Lean forward a little." He ran his hands up Kurt's back and squeezed his shoulders gently, then harder, his fingers working the hard muscles of Kurt's neck. "Relax," he said. "You're so tense. If you'll relax, I'll relax."
"Who said I wanted you relaxed?" Kurt asked. "I was enjoying the sounds you were making."
"I know," Blaine said. "I could tell." He dug his thumbs into the hollow beneath Kurt's shoulder blades, and Kurt let his breath out in a whine; his hands ran down Kurt's back in slow, hard, rhythmic strokes, and Kurt made appreciative noises and began to tip farther forward. Blaine laughed and pulled him back so Kurt was leaning against him, then wrapped his arms around Kurt's body and let his hands roam from his collarbone to his hips. He nipped Kurt's ear, and Kurt squirmed, trying to sit up, but Blaine held him close, lowering his head and breathing in Kurt's ear. "Oh, no. I like you like this." His hands drifted to Kurt's thighs and began to massage them, and Kurt froze. Even though Blaine's hands stayed on the top and outside of his legs and well away from anything else, his pants began to feel very tight.
"Blaine..." His voice sounded like a plea, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. "I can't..."
Instantly, Blaine withdrew and pulled Kurt's legs around so Kurt was draped across his lap again. He stared at Kurt with a somber expression. "Hey." Kurt tried to smile, but he was too overwhelmed to be sure of how it came across. Blaine reached his hand behind Kurt's neck, pulling Kurt's face down toward his. When their lips were close enough to touch, he stopped. "Your first kiss should be yours," he whispered.
Kurt offered a silent thanks to Brittany. He closed the distance confidently and let his lips explore Blaine's, slightly openmouthed and gentle. Blaine mumbled Kurt's name, smiling as Kurt's lips stayed in contact with his. "Have you done this before?" Blaine asked against Kurt's mouth.
"Long story," Kurt said. On the "L" of long, the tip of his tongue touched Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine groaned softly. Kurt pulled back and brushed his bangs out of his face. "Okay. That's it. This is getting too hot. I think we've caught up to where we left off."
"Yeah." Blaine's voice shook a little. "Um... hold onto me a sec. I don't want you to fall out when I open the door."
Kurt laughed.
They carefully slid out of the car as one and walked back to the school holding hands. For real.
Highest rating preffered: NC-17
Prompt(s) used: 2) Blaine urges Kurt to do things he'd never have done of his own accord. Blaine acts as if it's under the guise of helping Kurt's self-esteem but he starts wondering if he isn't just being manipulated into doing everything Blaine didn't or doesn't have the courage to do.
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Recipient: sweetmink
Author/Artist: pushplaytobegin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,922
Summary: Blaine decides Kurt's self-esteem needs a boost and puts on his mentor hat to help, but after awhile, Kurt begins to suspect Blaine has ulterior motives.
Notes: sweetmink, there is definitely serendipity at work in the world. Hope you like this!
"Good morning," Blaine said, as he slid into the seat next to Kurt at breakfast. He leaned over to glance at the newspaper spread out across the table. "Anything interesting going on?
Kurt sighed. "Terms of Endearment is playing at the revival theater."
"Cool. Are you going?"
"Mmm. Probably not."
"Why not? You shouldn't miss out on an experiences just because it's unconventional. If something's really important to you, you should go for it."
Before Kurt could respond, David sat down across the table. "What unconventional experience is Mr. Hummel going to miss?"
Wes joined them. "What's going on?"
David speared a forkful of Wes's fruit cup. "Mr. Hummel is missing out on life."
"I'm not," insisted Kurt.
"There's nothing wrong with going to a chick flick by yourself," Blaine said.
"I know," Kurt said. "That's why I've seen Steel Magnolias, Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, two dozen other chick flicks and every musical released since 1962 on the big screen, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mercedes and the girls."
Blaine's tipped his head quizzically. "Then why the sigh?"
"I was reliving fond memories," Kurt said, "not regretting a sad, pathetic life radically circumcised by social norms." He extended an apologetic glance to Wes and David. "Sorry. Poor choice of words. The point is, I'm not missing out. Carpe diem, boys. Unless there's a neanderthal lying in wait to shove you through a concrete wall." He sipped his green tea. "Sometimes, even then."
"So you're a seize-the-day kind of guy."
"I like to think so."
"Nothing you wouldn't do?"
"Shop at Wal Mart? Stick my tongue against a metal pole in January?"
"Go to chick flick with another guy?" Blaine asked.
Kurt nearly spit out his tea.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why not?"
Kurt shrugged and studied the newspaper until it gently began to creep out of his hands. He smacked David's fingers away from where he was tugging on it and glared at him. Wes and David waited expectantly for his answer.
Kurt made an exasperated noise and turned to Blaine, who waggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Well?"
What was he supposed to say? That he could strut the halls of McKinley dressed like Lady Gaga, stand up to two football players who outweighed him by two hundred pounds, sing traditionally female solos to anyone who - and as many as - would listen, but his mouth got dry at the thought of having a boy sit next to him as he sniffled over Debra Winger's demise.
"Hot chicks tend to have low self esteem, because they think guys just want their bodies," David said. "They have a hard time believing somebody could love them for who they really are."
Kurt rubbed his forehead from the conversational whiplash. "I beg your pardon?"
"David's right, Kurt," Wes said. "When you're singing or showing off your latest fashion acquisition, you're the most confident guy in the room. Put you in a school uniform and take you to a party, and you try to blend in with the furniture. You look positively grateful when somebody talks to you. Grateful isn't going to get you dates." He frowned at him. "Sometimes, being grateful can get you in trouble."
Kurt's face was flaming now. He couldn't stand being the center of attention if this was going to be the topic. "Excuse me. I need to get to class."
"Kurt." Blaine placed a hand on his arm as Kurt rose to leave. "Wes is right. You're sure of yourself in so many ways; why pull into your shell when someone's trying to appreciate you for you?"
Kurt tried to stare Blaine down, but Blaine simply looked puzzled and concerned. Because nobody ever appreciates me for me, Kurt thought. It's either a joke, or a set-up, or they need something I have and want to flatter me out of it.
"Why don't we go see Terms of Endearment together?" Blaine asked. "We'll pretend it's a date. It'll be good for you. Overcome some of those self-esteem barriers." His tone said, That's settled, but his eyes held a questioning look.
Kurt couldn't decide whether the idea of going to a movie with Blaine on a pretend date was the best or worst idea in the world. On one hand, it was true: A dry run could smooth out some of the awkwardness he was bound to feel on a first date. On the other hand... Blaine sitting next to him as a pretend date could be torture.
Except people on dates were allowed to hold hands. Link arms. Let their heads rest on one another's shoulders. Even if it were only one night and only role-play...
"Okay," said Kurt. "The movie starts at 7:45. I'll pick you up at 7:00."
A look of surprise crossed Blaine's face, and then he grinned. "That's great, Kurt. It'll be fun."
---
It was, too. Blaine coached him on timing and nonverbal communication, leaned his head on his shoulder, and Kurt even handed him a handkerchief when he heard Blaine's breathing change at a poignant moment in the film.
In fact, it was so much fun, they did it again. Repeatedly.
Kurt's initial uneasiness with non-dating Blaine faded as he grew more comfortable with asking him out, stopping by his dorm room, learning how to negotiate who paid for what, picking up the subtle cues of when to reach for his hand. He even put his arm around Blaine once. Half the time, they'd split up at the end of the night with Blaine saying, "Okay, next week's my turn." It was like their own personal acting workshop.
They deconstructed dating dynamics and discussed the different ways certain actions could be interpreted. They watched other couples, sometimes mocking them and other times in reflective silence. They talked about what would make a perfect date and what would be perfectly awful. They laughed a lot. On rare occasions, one of them would describe a someday, maybe, someone, scenario and the other would smile and say, "Yeah, that would be great." It was friendly and experimental and from time to time one of them would be shy, but mostly, it was like hanging out and watching a movie, commenting on good bits of dialog or plot points that failed, except in this case, the movie was their Friday or Saturday nights.
Sure, there was the twinge - or stab - of disappointment when Kurt watched Blaine's back disappearing down the hall alone, but the satisfaction of the evening's fun and anticipation of the next night out helped to obscure the pain. When they were together, Kurt found it fairly simple to push away the regret that it was all a sham.
The thought that it was going to end badly only hit him once, but once was all he needed.
"So," Blaine said one night on their way back to the dorm, "you seem to be getting the hang of things. Are you feeling better about a guy wanting to talk to you, take you out, be with you, just for the sake of being with you?"
"Mmm," Kurt said, swinging their linked hands. "It's not as hard now as it was when we started."
"Good," Blaine said. "Sometimes you just need someone else to tell you what you already suspect, but don't quite believe enough. You just have to trust yourself. Take that leap."
Trust yourself. Take the leap.
Kurt let their hands stop swinging. Hadn't he heard that before from Blaine? Didn't it sound an awful lot like Courage? Something Blaine hadn't had a whole lot of in the past, in some situations, but had been eager to promote as a solution to Kurt's problems?
They walked the remainder of the way in silence, Kurt thinking furiously, and Blaine humming something bright and soft to protect them from the frosty evening.
---
Kurt knocked on Wes's door before breakfast the next morning, and Wes opened it, naked from the waist up and covered in maroon Dalton sweatpants from the waist down. "Hey, Kurt. Come on in. What's up?"
Kurt dropped onto the bed opposite Wes's. He placed his messenger bag beside him and took a deep breath. "Wes, has Blaine done much dating?"
Wes frowned. "Have you asked Blaine?" He grabbed his antiperspirant out of a travel bag on the bed.
"I will," Kurt said. "I wanted to ask you first. Blaine can be... evasive."
Wes shook his head in warning. "I know what you mean, and I'm not unsympathetic, but I don't feel right talking about Blaine's personal business. What's this about? Another one of your non-dates?"
"Sort of." Kurt leaned back on his elbows and stared at the ceiling while Wes got ready. He didn't want to make Wes feel uncomfortable. "I wondered if he'd asked a lot of people out."
"What do you think? He's attractive, intelligent, involved in a lot of clubs, and he's genuinely nice to people."
Kurt let himself fall flat on the bed, dejected. Of course he was wrong. Blaine was popular. Blaine wasn't using Kurt to vicariously experience the things he was afraid to do, and he wasn't tagging along with Kurt because there were things he was afraid to do alone. Blaine had dated a lot, and Kurt really was Blaine's Self-Esteem Project of the Month.
"Right," sighed Kurt. He sat up to leave. He'd learned what he came for. "He's probably gone out with every gay guy at Dalton at least once."
"I said think, Kurt. Not assume." There was a slight note of annoyance in Wes's voice, and Kurt sat up a bit straighter and looked at him. "What did David say a few weeks ago about hot chicks and self-esteem?"
"Low. They had trouble believing people would like them for themselves. But that's not Blaine."
Wes shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe not. But if it were, how many people do you think he'd have asked out on dates?" He picked up a clean shirt from where he'd laid out his clothes on the bed.
"I don't know," Kurt said. "In the two years he's been here? Five. Six." Although that sounded absurdly low.
Wes gave him a thumbs down.
Surprised, Kurt thought about the couple combinations at McKinley, with Santana and Brittany at one end of the spectrum, and Kurt at the other. What was in the middle? "Two or three?" Kurt guessed.
Wes unselfconsciously slid his sweatpants off, stepped into his school trousers, and gave Kurt another thumbs down.
Kurt's brain popped out of gear, but he wasn't sure whether it was because Wes was getting dressed in front of Kurt as though nothing could be more normal, or at the confirmation that Blaine didn't ask guys out much, if at all.
"Zero?" he asked, his voice too high.
Wes raised his arms to the sky in a pose that said, finally! He sat down and started putting on his socks and shoes. "That number you first mentioned is closer to the number of guys who have asked him out," he said. "To be honest - and this isn't breaking any confidence, because this is my own observation and judgment - I've never known Blaine to spend so much time with an individual, not the way he's been doing with you, and it's certainly never gone on this long. That's all I feel comfortable saying, Kurt. I hope it helps."
By their next non-date, Blaine's roommate had also confirmed Kurt's suspicions that Blaine hadn't gone to any chick flicks, with other guys or alone. He downloaded them and watched them in his room. He also hadn't done any of the other date-like things he'd been encouraging Kurt to initiate.
Self-esteem my sweet ass, Kurt thought. He's been using me as a body double.
---
They drove to Columbus for a midweek showing of The Wizard of Oz at a gay nightclub. Kurt guessed the club was trying to draw business on a slow night. He and Blaine would certainly be turned away if someone tagged them as underage, but it was worth a shot, and Kurt had chosen their outfits and styled their hair. He thought they had a 60/40 chance of getting in. He'd toyed with the idea of breaking the date or sabotaging their look so their clothes would scream I'm a curious gay teen, but despite his growing anger at Blaine's charade, he genuinely felt like seeing the movie, and he'd never been to a nightclub. While he worked for his dad, he'd delivered Mr. Graham's car to him at work a few times, so he'd seen the inside of a neighborhood tavern, but that was a far cry from a gay bar.
They arrived slightly later than the advertised time. The movie was being shown in the restaurant, which was adjacent to and separate from the dance club and bar, and they weren't carded. They found seats, and Kurt found himself surreptitiously watching the men around him more than the film. The restaurant was spotless; the food unremarkable; the decor expensive and just this side of ostentatious.
As Margaret Hamilton wailed that she was melting, Blaine leaned over and whispered, "Have you ever been to a club before?"
Kurt shook his head.
"Do you want to see if we can get in?"
Kurt shrugged. If Blaine wanted to satisfy his curiosity, he could go ahead.
Blaine rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt felt his stomach twist in a thousand agonizing turns at the touch.
"It would be nice to dance, if we can, since we're here and all."
Blaine was using that low, seductive rumble that made Kurt's insides flip-flop. He kind of hated Blaine for it right now. What would a man with high self-esteem do if his date asked if they could stay and dance? Would it be different from what a man with high self-esteem would do if he knew he was being used as a safety blanket, so the other person could work up the nerve to do what they couldn't muster the courage to do alone?
Kurt snickered bitterly, wishing he could tell Blaine to go to hell. It was true, though. They were already here, and they'd probably never get a better opportunity. "Sure, we can give it a shot. Do you think our chances are better if we go now, or wait for the movie to end?"
Blaine studied the door that led from the restaurant to the club. "Now. The doorman's on break or something."
Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt's as they stood up and threaded their way through the tables at the back, so as not to obscure the view of other patrons. Kurt's ire rose, but he didn't pull his hand away. He pulled the door to the dance club open, and Blaine caught it, holding it for Kurt to go first. Of course.
The space was dark; at least, darker than the restaurant had been. The bar to the left of the door glittered in a shining pool of light, but the rest of the room lay in shadows. Blue, violet, and green track lights dominated, and white accents illuminated enough for Kurt to plot a path along the wall away from the bar. A band had already set up. The bass player was tuning up while the others waited for the signal that the movie had ended.
Kurt didn't catch the signal, but the drummer did. He twirled his sticks, smacked them together on the beat, and the group roared into their first number. Moments later, men began entering from the restaurant, seating themselves at tables or hitting the dance floor with their partners.
"What do you want to do?" Blaine half-shouted in his ear.
"I thought you wanted to dance," Kurt half-shouted back.
"I do," Blaine said, in that low, rumbly voice, right next to his ear. "Are you going to ask me?"
Kurt turned his head so fast that he nearly clocked Blaine with his nose. "Blaine," he yelled over the music, "I've been asking people to dance since I was four. I don't need practice in that."
To prove it, he stalked over to the bar, where a slender man in a too-big leather jacket sat on a bar stool, leaning against the wall and watching the dancers. He was bleached blond like a swimmer, his face was smooth and serious, and he might have been in his late 20s or early 30s. He watched Kurt approach with a blank expression.
"Would you care to dance?" Kurt asked, overcompensating to hide his nervousness and sounding a bit more haughty than he intended. Sure, he'd asked people his own age to dance before, but never a guy at least ten years older. In a gay bar.
The man narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side as though he'd never heard the question before. He looked at the bartender, who seemed amused.
"Sure," he said, pushing off the bar stool. "One dance. Then you and your boyfriend leave."
"Excuse me?" Kurt said, startled.
The man peeled off his leather jacket, which Kurt realized flapped around the waist and hips, but strained against his upper body. The guy had arms as thick as Kurt's thighs. He grabbed Kurt's hand and walked onto the dance floor, swaying his hips. "Meet the weekend doorman," he shouted. "I came in for a drink, but hey, I don't mind busting a kid on my off night."
Kurt closed his eyes. This night could not possibly get any worse.
"Oh, don't look like that." The guy actually squeezed his hand before he let go and began to move to the music. "Anybody else probably wouldn't have noticed. You could almost pass for 21. It's actually kind of impressive. Spotting kids isn't usually much of a challenge."
"What gave me away?" Kurt said.
"Pure instinct. I've been doing this a long time. Believe me, most of the under-21 crowd who try to get in here are either on a dare or trying too hard. You got an ID?"
Kurt nodded.
"Hand it over."
Kurt tugged his driver's license out of his pocket and handed it over. The man looked at it, then gave it a second, harder look, and burst out laughing. He handed it back to Kurt. "I meant, do you have a fake ID."
"Oh," said Kurt. He felt like a complete idiot. "No. We came for the movie and thought as long as we were here, we'd try dancing a little."
"How come you're not dancing with your boyfriend?"
The floodgates opened.
"First of all, he's not my boyfriend." Kurt practically spat out the words. He sounded bitchier than he wanted to, but far less bitchy than he actually felt. "Second, dancing was his idea, not mine. Third, he evidently didn't want to dance badly enough to ask me, so I figured I'd let him work it out on his own."
The song ended, but the man grabbed his hand and kept him on the floor as the band segued into the next number.
"Sweetheart, he may not have asked you to dance, but that's exactly what he wants. He can't take his eyes off of you. No - don't look over there, not yet. Look at me."
"He only wants me to ask because he's afraid to do it himself," Kurt shouted, frustration boiling over. "Helping me overcome dating jitters is just another one of his counterintelligence cover stories, and it's crap! I feel like a science project, and it feels like crap. I feel like crap. Why doesn't he ask me out? Is he using me to work up the nerve to ask somebody else out?"
He stopped. Here he was, in the middle of a gay bar, ranting to a complete stranger. Who was going to bounce him.
Those huge arms reached out, and the man took his hands, pulling him close and placing Kurt's hands on his hips. He draped his arms around Kurt's neck and leaned in so he wouldn't have to speak quite so loudly. Kurt could smell sweat, the slightly sweet scent of liquor on his breath, and the rich, earthy fragrance of the leather jacket the man had been wearing. He wanted to back off and lean in at the same time, so he simply kept his hands lightly at the man's waist.
"I'm going to tell you something, Kurt. Sometimes you can be best friends with someone for nearly four years, or close to ten, and when you finally get up the nerve to tell them you want more - when you've waited so long that you're absolutely sure they feel the same way - they can still surprise you. And it hurts like hell. Nobody likes to be rejected, Kurt. Asking a good friend to be more than that might seem safer, but it can take a million times more guts than asking to go home with a nameless guy who looks good from across the room." The man let his arms rest atop Kurt's shoulders and he smiled, but his eyes were sharp, a mixture of regret and anger.
After a moment, Kurt said, "How did you know my name?"
The man laughed again, easily. "Your driver's license. I'm Nate." He held out his hand, and Kurt shook it. Nate didn't let go. "I don't ever want to see you here ever again, you understand? At least, not until you're 21. In the meantime, there's an under-21 club a couple blocks over. Same owner. If you and your not-boyfriend want to dance together there, it's a safe place to go. Now, I'm going to walk you back to the bar, and you and your not-boyfriend are going to leave. And if your not-boyfriend is not-concerned that I've been hanging all over you and holding your hand, it will give you some data to start your own science project."
He kept Kurt's hand in his as they walked back to the bar, and he wrote down the name and address of the under-21 club on a napkin. Nate pulled him into a hug and whispered, "Well, he's definitely still got his eye on you," and Kurt turned to find Blaine watching him uncertainly from the far end of the bar. Kurt's stomach rolled in a flood of confusion. He knew one thing for sure, though.
"We have to leave," Kurt said, as he strode past Blaine. "We've been made."
---
Kurt drove in silence, thinking about the very odd feeling of dancing with someone both older and a stranger; about skating on the thin ice of doing something illegal; about the discovery of the under-21 club, and about Blaine. Careful, calculating, cowardly Blaine, who felt something for Kurt, but evidently not enough.
"I think I'm ready to stop practicing and date for real," Kurt announced.
He heard Blaine shift to look at him. "Really?"
Kurt nodded.
"Did that guy give you his phone number?"
"What? No." Kurt felt his desire for revenge lift a fraction. Blaine might not be exactly jealous, but he'd been watching Kurt, if that little gesture hadn't escaped his notice.
"Are you thinking of dating anyone in particular?"
"As a matter of fact, I am. I've wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of what you'd say. I don't think you like him very much."
"What makes you say that?" Blaine sounded tense.
"Because of the way you treat him. When he wants to do something, you tell him not to bother. You discourage him."
There was utter silence in the car. Kurt could almost hear Blaine ripping through the catalog of his brain, going through the names of all the people Kurt could possibly be referring to.
"I didn't know I treated anyone like that," Blaine said. "Who is it? I can't believe you haven't said anything to me before now."
"I didn't want to argue about it. I thought it might make things complicated if I were dating someone you didn't like."
Blaine was quiet. Kurt let him turn things over in his mind. "Are you guys close?"
"Yeah."
"And you've known him how long?"
"We met right before I transferred."
"Before you transferred?" Kurt can practically hear Blaine thrashing the contents of his brain, like a burglar searching for valuables. "You've been hiding this relationship for months because you thought I wouldn't approve?"
"I haven't been hiding anything. We're just friends. I've wanted more for awhile now, but haven't had the nerve to say anything. I should probably thank you, because if it weren't for the dating practice, I probably wouldn't be ready to talk to him about it."
Blaine reached over to turn off the radio that had been playing low beneath their conversation. The only sound remaining was the hum of the highway. When Blaine spoke again, his voice held a quiet note of pain.
"I thought we were friends, Kurt. I thought we could talk to each other about anything."
Kurt's spitefulness dipped for a split second and gave way to compassion. "We are, Blaine. You're my best friend. At Dalton," he added, spitefulness returning. Mercedes was his best friend outside Dalton, but if Blaine thought he was talking about someone else, that would be just fine.
"Well, why would you worry I won't like him?"
Kurt thought for a moment. "He can take the road of least resistance. Sometimes he doesn't have the courage of his convictions. When he's on familiar ground, he's confident enough. But when he's in unfamiliar territory, he can stand back and let other people pick up the slack. He can also be manipulative, making up elaborate stories to camoflage what could have been an honest, straightforward request."
"Sounds like a real stand-up guy." Blaine's voice was flat.
"He has some very good qualities."
"Ah. The 'you don't know them like I do' defense." Blaine watched the road for awhile. "I'm glad you've found someone you like." He sounded anything but glad, and Kurt began to feel the scales of justice (or at least getting even) swinging in his favor. "I worry, though. If you have to make excuses for his flaws and bad behavior, if you have to hide him from me - wait, have you introduced him to Mercedes?"
"Mm-hm." Kurt looked at Blaine out of the corner of his eye and watched him frown. This was good. "She isn't sure I should make the first move. She isn't sure he deserves me."
"Well, does he?"
Kurt didn't answer.
"Seriously," Blaine continued. "It doesn't sound like he appreciates you. You've known him this long, you've been wanting more, and you're still just friends. Doesn't he know a good thing when he sees it?"
"That's a really good question, Blaine. Don't you know a good thing when you see it?"
The silence was deafening.
Kurt gripped the steering wheel to calm himself. He could think of nearly a thousand reasons Blaine might have for not asking him out. He couldn't stop himself from running through the lists he'd been keeping for years. Flaws: 834, divided into physical, mental, emotional, and five different skill sets. Failures: 125. He'd lopped a lot off that list, allowing for age. He couldn't condemn himself for stupid things he'd done when he was little. Not all of them, at any rate.
None of those mattered, though, as much as Blaine's reasons for deeming Kurt inappropriate dating material.
"I'm the guy?" Blaine managed to ask, weakly.
"You've been manipulating me for weeks. All this dating practice has been for you as much as for me. I don't know why you used me - used me, Blaine - to boost your own courage. I don't know why you don't like yourself enough to go up to someone you're attracted to and ask him out. And I'm angry, because you lied to me." He glared at Blaine. "I thought friends were supposed to be honest with each other.
"I can't regret the whole charade, because I had fun. I learned a lot. I really am more confident than I was, but part of me thinks we could have spent the time better. You, with someone you're actually interested in. And me, with someone I actually stand a chance with." There. He'd said it.
He let the silence drag on until he simply couldn't stand it anymore. How dare Blaine orchestrate this. He hated him for lying, for teasing, for making rejection an ambiguous act of omission, instead of flat-out explaining why Kurt didn't measure up. He hated knowing his desperation was audible beneath his anger when he asked, "What's wrong with me, Blaine? You like me well enough to flirt with and go on pretend dates, but I obviously fall short of some elevated standard. Just tell me what it is, so I can learn from it and move on."
"Nothing," Blaine said heavily. "There's nothing wrong with you, Kurt. You're perfect. It's me. I was afraid to ask you out. I didn't know what you'd say."
"You'll never know," Kurt snapped. He should be relieved, but he was still angry. "You'll never know until you ask."
They drove back to school in silence, Kurt brooding over how ridiculous it was to let being perfect stand in the way of being happy.
They pulled into Dalton and Kurt turned off the engine. They sat in the thick silence, Kurt tapping on the steering wheel and Blaine staring out the passenger's window.
Finally, Blaine turned in his seat to face him. Kurt glanced over at him, but couldn't read his expression. When he spoke, his voice was low and uncertain.
"You do remember Wes and David pointing out that you try to blend into the furniture at social functions, don't you?"
"Those functions aren't parties. I have no trouble holding my own at parties. At a function, in a school uniform... school blazers are like upholstery; of course I blend in with the furniture. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You remember when we saw Terms of Endearment?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, even though he knew Blaine probably couldn't see it in the dark. "Of course."
"David was right. You're so afraid of being rejected, you never put yourself out there. So I went to that movie with you. If you're going to date, you have to risk."
"You don't," Kurt retorted. "You play it safe. You've been letting me take all the risks."
"I don't think you understand. I'd seen the movie before, with another guy, in the theater. I'm a sap for that movie. I cried, and afterward, he teased me about it. We didn't go out again. If he'd tease me about getting emotional at a movie, what would happen when I got upset about something really important? I was terrified to put myself through that again. Even though I was pretty confident you wouldn't judge me, I still felt uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure you heard the exact moment when I lost the battle to keep from crying, but you didn't say anything. You just handed me a handkerchief."
"Fine. You took one risk. You still don't ask guys out."
"I don't have to. They ask me. I'm not sitting around and waiting for guys to ask me out, Kurt. I'm living my life. There's more to life than dating. Besides, there's only one person at Dalton I'm remotely interested in on a romantic level, and I've been spending most of my free time with him. In fact, I even asked him out. I suggested we go to Terms of Endearment, remember?" He waited for Kurt to respond, but when he didn't, he shrugged and kept going. "All the times we went out, you kept getting more confident and comfortable, and I kept wondering, what's so hard about those words, 'Hey, Blaine - let's date for real.' But you never said them."
"Why should I?" Kurt snapped.
Blaine turned back to the passenger window, and Kurt felt a surge of vindication. When Blaine spoke again, embarrassment underscored his words. "I had hoped that you wanted to."
I did want to, Kurt thought. I've wanted to date you since you first sang to me.
"I had to ask myself, is he afraid I'll say no? Is he as afraid as I am of hearing that word? If both of us prefer to leave a question unasked because we're afraid of the answer, what does that imply for far more difficult discussions? I thought pretending to date would be a good way to build your confidence and make it clear what my answer would be. I know things haven't gone well with you in the past, but if you can't tell that you have a better chance with me than with your straight quarterback stepbrother - "
"Better isn't good enough. I want to know I won't be rejected again."
"Honestly, Kurt. I don't know how much safer I can make myself. I don't know how much more clear I can be. I've been careful to give you no evidence, no evidence at all, that I'd turn you down if you asked. Not since we've been... doing whatever we've been doing."
"What have we been doing?" Kurt ran his hand over the circumference of the steering wheel. What had they been doing? They'd been avoiding the scary questions. Taking the easy road.
"I hoped we'd been getting you more comfortable with asking someone out on a date. Apparently not. At least, you don't seem to be getting any closer to asking me out. Which must mean you don't want me as much as I'd hoped.
"The longer I waited, the less I worried about rejection, because it seemed like we were so good together. I started to worry more about..." Blaine shook his head and let out an sigh. "Oh, hell. I worried you'd tell me you didn't want to date me, but you'd be glad to escalate to other kinds of 'practice.' I can't be friends with benefits, Kurt. Maybe some people can, but I can't.
"Then I saw that guy write down what I thought was his phone number, and you started talking about asking some other guy out... I had a moment where I thought it might be worth it to be with you, even if you just wanted the experience more than you wanted me. That's how much of a good thing I think you are, Kurt, that I actually, seriously considered it.
Kurt felt his mouth go dry.
"I owe you an apology, Kurt, for manipulating you. I never meant to make you doubt yourself or what you mean to me. I wanted to make myself safe, so you wouldn't feel like you were taking a risk by asking me out. I failed, obviously. Either you don't want me at all, which I can't quite believe, or you don't want me enough to take that last little step. It hurts to know I want you more than you want me. And now -"
"Stop talking," Kurt said. His heart pounded. "It's not true. I thought this was just a project to you. I thought you were using me."
"Kurt -"
"Be quiet. Let me say this. I do want to go out with you for real. I don't want you to think I want it less than you do. It's not for the experience, either. It's just for you."
Blaine slouched against the corner of the passenger's seat and the door. He wiped his face with his hand. "I'm sweating," he muttered absently. "I'm so nervous."
Kurt hesitated, then stretched his arm out. "Come over here."
"No," Blaine said. "The steering wheel's in the way. You come over here."
Kurt felt an objection rising, but he realized how truly stupid that would be right now, so he scooted to Blaine's side of the Escalade and draped his legs over his lap. "Let's never do anything like this again. No pretending, okay? Just... can we promise to tell each other stuff, no matter how hard it is?"
Blaine sighed and reached up to Kurt's collar. He ran his finger over the stiff material and pulled it away from Kurt's neck, leaning in and pressing his lips against his skin. Kurt shivered. "I promise."
Kurt stared at Blaine's lips as he withdrew. "We never had a good-night kiss."
"Some things should never be pretend."
Their faces were so close, Kurt could feel Blaine's breath as he spoke. Kurt lifted his hand to Blaine's face and touched him. Blaine closed his eyes. Kurt ran his fingers along Blaine's jaw lightly and listened to Blaine's breathing deepen. His fingers traced Blaine's hairline, swept back along the side of his neck beneath his ear, his thumb stroking his jaw, then bringing his hand forward to rub his thumb against Blaine's lower lip. His heart quickened, knowing he had permission to touch like this. He ran two fingers over the shell of Blaine's ear and Blaine breathed in through his mouth sharply, his lips parting. Kurt did it again, and this time Blaine shuddered and dipped his ear toward his neck. "Tickles," he said, his voice rough.
Kurt hummed and did it again, and Blaine inhaled and leaned back to move out of Kurt's reach, which amused Kurt, considering he was sitting on Blaine's lap. Blaine had his head tipped back as far as it would go, and Kurt leaned over and brazenly licked the exposed line of his throat. Blaine made a satisfying choking sound and his hips ground up against Kurt. He shot forward from where he'd been pressing back, eyes wide and apologetic. "Kurt, I'm so sorry. I just - "
"It tickles?" Kurt asked.
"It - no, it feels good, it's just..."
"Let me do it again."
After a moment of indecision, Blaine squeezed Kurt's arm once, hard, then leaned back. Kurt touched his chin encouragingly, and Blaine sighed and lifted his chin. Kurt rested his head on his shoulder, and Blaine's arms came up around him. He licked Blaine's throat again and Blaine breathed his name and his arms tightened against his waist. Kurt mouthed his neck and felt Blaine tense all over; he licked and kissed and sucked hard against the skin of his neck and throat until Blaine began to rock his hips uselessly, the rhythm punctuated with gasps and moans that twisted Kurt's gut in delightful ways.
Blaine's neck was warm and wet, his breathing ragged, when Kurt slowed and stopped. He shoved Kurt's legs off his lap and circled his other arm around Kurt's waist, rotating him so he faced away from Blaine, and pushing him forward so he sat between Blaine's spread legs.
"What are you doing?" Kurt protested.
"Cooling off," Blaine said. "And cooling you off. Did you notice how warm it's gotten in here?" His voice had that slow, patient tone, as though they had all the time in the world, and Kurt's toes curled. "Lean forward a little." He ran his hands up Kurt's back and squeezed his shoulders gently, then harder, his fingers working the hard muscles of Kurt's neck. "Relax," he said. "You're so tense. If you'll relax, I'll relax."
"Who said I wanted you relaxed?" Kurt asked. "I was enjoying the sounds you were making."
"I know," Blaine said. "I could tell." He dug his thumbs into the hollow beneath Kurt's shoulder blades, and Kurt let his breath out in a whine; his hands ran down Kurt's back in slow, hard, rhythmic strokes, and Kurt made appreciative noises and began to tip farther forward. Blaine laughed and pulled him back so Kurt was leaning against him, then wrapped his arms around Kurt's body and let his hands roam from his collarbone to his hips. He nipped Kurt's ear, and Kurt squirmed, trying to sit up, but Blaine held him close, lowering his head and breathing in Kurt's ear. "Oh, no. I like you like this." His hands drifted to Kurt's thighs and began to massage them, and Kurt froze. Even though Blaine's hands stayed on the top and outside of his legs and well away from anything else, his pants began to feel very tight.
"Blaine..." His voice sounded like a plea, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. "I can't..."
Instantly, Blaine withdrew and pulled Kurt's legs around so Kurt was draped across his lap again. He stared at Kurt with a somber expression. "Hey." Kurt tried to smile, but he was too overwhelmed to be sure of how it came across. Blaine reached his hand behind Kurt's neck, pulling Kurt's face down toward his. When their lips were close enough to touch, he stopped. "Your first kiss should be yours," he whispered.
Kurt offered a silent thanks to Brittany. He closed the distance confidently and let his lips explore Blaine's, slightly openmouthed and gentle. Blaine mumbled Kurt's name, smiling as Kurt's lips stayed in contact with his. "Have you done this before?" Blaine asked against Kurt's mouth.
"Long story," Kurt said. On the "L" of long, the tip of his tongue touched Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine groaned softly. Kurt pulled back and brushed his bangs out of his face. "Okay. That's it. This is getting too hot. I think we've caught up to where we left off."
"Yeah." Blaine's voice shook a little. "Um... hold onto me a sec. I don't want you to fall out when I open the door."
Kurt laughed.
They carefully slid out of the car as one and walked back to the school holding hands. For real.
Highest rating preffered: NC-17
Prompt(s) used: 2) Blaine urges Kurt to do things he'd never have done of his own accord. Blaine acts as if it's under the guise of helping Kurt's self-esteem but he starts wondering if he isn't just being manipulated into doing everything Blaine didn't or doesn't have the courage to do.
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