Chapter 2 - blazers and bowties

I do not have feelings for Blaine Anderson! Read my lips Rachel," Kurt ordered, "Never. Going. To. Happen. He's not my type. He'll never be my type. He's an idiot. A blazer-wearing, self-absorbed idiot. I can hardly stand the sight of him an-"

Rachel cut him off with a snort. "You know he wears a blazer?"

***

Blaine was late. Three hours, ten minutes and fifty-six seconds late to be precise. To be too precise. Three hours, eleven minutes. Kurt threw himself face down onto his bed, trying to decide whether he was more worried about Blaine or annoyed that it was midnight and he was still waiting. No, that definitely wasn't what had happened; there had been a really interesting article in Vogue abou-

"Kurt! Kurt! Are you asleep?"

Kurt flipped around, resembling a sea lion slightly more than he would have preferred, and was met with a soaking wet Blaine Anderson.

"Knew you wouldn't be." Blaine smirked, his voice openly smug.

"Is it raining?"

"Were you waiting up for me?"

"Is it raining?"

"Not really. Did you miss me?"

"Really, really no."

"Sure. Coming out inspector?"

"Are you going to insist on calling me that?"

"Probably"

"No then."

"I could call you Juliet?"

"Inspired."

"I'll get in your bed again."

"Fine!" Kurt relented and, rejecting Blaine's hand, pulled himself out onto the roof. It was raining ever so slightly, but definitely not enough to drench someone. Observing Blaine properly for the first time, he noticed that although his hair was curling from the water, it had clearly been previously gelled. His wet shirt clung to his stomach, outlining every muscle. Kurt felt his throat tighten a little. A pair of shiny black shoes caked in mud rested on the rooftop, a scrunched up bow tie stuffed into the left one. It was raining harder now. He must have been studying the shoes longer than he'd thought as Blaine had appeared back through his own window, more cat-like than ever without shoes on, Kurt hadn't even noticed him leave. He was holding two mugs of coffee.

"Grande non-fat mocha for the lady."

"Hilarious you know? Just hilari- you know how I take my coffee?"

"I know a lot of things. Like, did you know the Eiffel tower is 6 inches shorter in winter? It shrinks in the cold."

"Is that what happens to you then?"

Blaine shoved him so forcefully; it caused the mug of coffee to fly from his hands and cascade, along with the rain, onto Blaine's head. Kurt spluttered and clapped his hands to his mouth, attempting to cover his laughter as a violent cough. Unsuccessfully. Blaine glowered at him.

"Oh come here," Kurt pulled out the towel he was sat on and pulled Blaine towards him. Still trying very hard not to laugh he massaged the towel against Blaine's coffee stained hair. It was one of those strange moments on the roof, that seemed to be occurring more and more often, where Kurt found himself running his hands through Blaine's hair. In these moments, he would catch Blaine's eyes and find himself a little lost, if only for a second. He shook his head.

"Why are you so wet anyway?"

For the first time since they'd met, Blaine looked unsettled. "I had an argument with my dad."

"In the bath?" Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself.

Blaine's smile returned and his eyes flashed with the wickedness that made Kurt both highly uneasy and entirely captivated. "Yeah, there's only one rubber duck between us. Now, the real point to be made here is, you've been basically sat on me for about five minutes, I call that progress."

As much as Kurt would have liked to pursue the matter of the argument, he settled for poking him in the eye with the towel instead.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

"Really? What a shame."

 Blaine attempted to shove him again, but Kurt caught hold of his arms, and caught sight of his watch. "Oh my God, is that the time, I have to go! I have rehearsals for sectionals in the morning!"

"So? Me too."

Kurt looked at him in surprise, "you're a Warbler?"

"I'm a Warbler."

"You can sing?"

"I like to think so."

"But we're competing next week!"

"I know."

"You know?"

Blaine pulled a pamphlet out of his back pocket containing the entire set list for sectionals. He ran his finger down the page. "See, Warblers, New Directions, Hipsters."

"Well I knew the Warblers were competing, but I didn't know you were! You never said!" 

"You never asked."

"Oh God, Rachel's going to see you."

Blaine raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Kurt waved it away.

"Why are you all dressed up anyway?"

Blaine's face suddenly dropped. "You're right, it's getting cold. You better go in."

***

"Blaine!"

His father's voice rang from outside his room the moment his window clicked shut. He walked over to his bedroom door wearily to greet the bright red face waiting for him on the other side.

"Yes Dad?"

"Don't you ‘yes Dad' me. I know you've been out there! You've already fucked up once today. You are not seeing him again."

"You don't even know who he is!" Blaine replied unsteadily.

"I don't care who he is," he said the word ‘he' with such disgust that Blaine winced. "If you ever go on that roof again, I will kick you out."

"Fine! Do it!" Blaine was shouting now.

A sudden smug malice came over his father's face. "No, you know what, if you ever go out on that roof again. I will make sure he never sees you again."

Blaine was shaking with anger. His father had won.