Hanging from the ceiling fan like a banner were his jeans.

Flinging the girls’ arms off him, Blaine shot up, grabbing at the mess of sheets and blankets to find himself only wearing boxers. But the sudden movement caught up with him, the boy groaned pressing his palm into his forehead. He heard this sound echoed by the girls next to him.

He twisted around to look at the girls who were waking up, looking just as miserable as he felt. Santana looked up at his face, smirking.

“Chill out, chia pet. You still got your precious V card. We just thought it would be funny. Plus Britt and I needed to test out our ideas for your tattoo,” she said, looking pointedly at his chest.

Adjusting his askew glasses, Blaine’s sleep hazy eyes looked down at his body and he yelped. His chest and legs were covered in little drawings. There were flames, tigers, badly drawn dragons, and even an “I love lady lips” in a heart drawn all over in Sharpie.

Brittany nudged her way under his arm and poked at a large cat drawing on his stomach. “This one’s Lord Tubbington. We could get matching ones,” she cooed.

As Blaine examined the drawings more, what Santana said finally caught up with his hungover brain. His head spun to Santana and he barked, “I am not getting a tattoo, Santana!”

Blaine groaned at the sound of his own loud voice. Santana rubbed her temples and said in a tense voice, “First off, use your indoor voice, you annoying hobbit. Second, you really need to start trusting me. Tattoos are hot. Simple as that. So quit your constant bitching.” She took a long breath, sitting up. “Okay. The ones we are going to do are these ones,” she continued as she pointed to the set of flames drawn on his hips. The flames were at a wavy angle colored in with shades of blue. Santana added, “See they totally accent your DMs.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow and asked, “DMs?”

The girl rolled her eyes and explained, “Dick marks. You know these.” She pointed to the bottom of his abs where the muscles made a V shape. “They point to your dick. Kurt will melt when he sees them.” Then Santana got out of bed and went into Blaine’s closet, signaling an end to the discussion.

Blaine looked down again. Maybe they did look cool, but he wondered how Kurt would ever see them. Blaine wasn’t going to walk around school without a shirt or something. A shot of terror flashed through him. Maybe he would! He had no idea what was going through Santana’s mind.

Just as he was about to ask Santana about this, Brittany jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, making retching noises as soon at the door slammed. Blaine prayed that she made it to the toilet.

Santana came out of the closet wearing a Dalton athletics sweatshirt. She hopped back on the bed and started filing her nails. “Frankly, I thought that would be you after last night, Blainey boy,” Santana commented off hand.

Finally pulling his jeans off the fan and onto his legs, Blaine remarked, “Oh I wish it was. I can’t throw up. No gag reflex. It’s a huge pain.”

Santana made a choking sound, dropping the nail file. Blaine just stared back confused by her reaction. There was a long silence as girl’s gapping mouth turned into an amused smirk. She laughed out, “Oh my god. Why am I even doing this? All you need to do is just walk up, deep throat him, and Kurt is yours.”

Blaine felt like his face was burning. “But I—I haven’t—I don’t,” Blaine sputtered out as Santana continued to laugh uncontrollably. He had no idea what to say. He wasn’t sure what shocked him the most: Santana’s blunt crudeness or Blaine’s own thoughts about it. He jumped off the bed and into the closet, trying to hide his growing problem as he looked for a shirt.

Santana’s cackling voice floated in from the bedroom, “Oh Blainers, don’t worry. Your super power is safe with me. We will deal with that later. “ He heard the bed creak, and Santana walked into the closet. She gave him a sympathetic smile and continued, “Today though we do have to take care of three things: the tattoos, the smoking, and the clothes.”

Blaine tried to smile back, but Santana’s knowing look showed that he was not hiding his terror very well.

***

Blaine winced as he walked out of the mall with Santana and Brittany that afternoon. He tugged his jeans down further, feeling the slight relief on the two bandaged tattoos on his hips. He was glad he forgoed his usual suspenders as they would go right over the sensitive area. It had been the most painful experience of his life and he spent the entire time cussing at Santana who exchanged amused glances with the tattoo artist and Brittany. After that, she dragged him to the mall when all he wanted to do was go home and wallow in his stupidity.

They reached his BMW and the girls threw their haul into the back. Santana had managed to see his gold card as he paid for his own torturous tattoos and spent their time at the mall getting Blaine more black clothes than Blaine has ever seen in his life plus a few things for themselves as a “reward for their good deeds”.

Just as Blaine as about to ease himself into the driver’s seat, Santana stopped him. “Time for the final part of today’s plan,” she said, reaching into her purse.

When she pulled out a zippo lighter and a pack of cigarettes, Blaine’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair. “Wait, I thought—I thought that was just a joke.”

The latina girl shrugged, “I really don’t know what made you think that.” She handed him a cigarette, showing him how to hold it properly between his index and middle finger while supporting the filter with his thumb. It was awkward, but Blaine managed to hold it fairly well.

“Now watch carefully, okay? You have to breathe in when you light it. Try and inhale slowly so you get used to it.” She brought the cigarette between her lips, flicked the lighter, and drew in a slow breath. The tip glowed as she extinguished the lighter’s flame. Santana held her breath as she brought the cigarette down to her flicking the butt to get the ash off. Then she blew to smoke out of her mouth. Blaine wrinkled his nose at the smell.

Santana handed him the lighter as if to say, “Your turn.”

The boy took it. He lifted the cigarette up to his mouth just as Santana had but hesitated to light it. Blaine looked to Brittany hoping she would pipe in as the voice of reason, but she just gave him a smile, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Clearly, he forgot whom he was with. He lit the cigarette and breathed in.

His throat and lungs felt like they were on fire. He quickly coughed the smoke out, feeling the burn as some came out his nose too. His eyes watered as he coughed. Through blurry eyes, he saw Santana gave him a knowing look and gestured for him to try again. He stared back at the girl as if she was telling him to grow three heads. How much tortured did he have to go through in one day? He was poked with sharp needles, laughed at and embarrassed by two insane girls, and now he was inhaling fire!

Santana picked up the cigarette where he must have dropped it in his coughing fit and handed it back to him. “I know it is a bit rough at first. It will get better. I wouldn’t be doing this if it didn’t help your new image, okay?” she explained, her eyes showing kindness.

Blaine took it again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He tried to reassure himself. Santana knew what she was doing. He may not trust her about everything but this seemed like something she would know about. He looked up at her again, flashing her a small smile, and took another drag from the cigarette. It still had the same burn, but Blaine forced himself to hold it in. Then he blew out slowly.

The girls started jumping up and down excitedly, cheering him on as he finished the cigarette. Blaine was feeling a bit light headed and his throat was sore. Santana put her own cigarette out with her foot, and Blaine copied her.

She then showed him a few tricks as they stood by his car in the mall parking lot. He learned how to open and light the zippo with a quick movement against his tight. Blaine thought he was going to light himself on fire with this trick. He flipped one cigarette in the pack to be his “lucky”. When Santana wanted to teach him how to “butt fuck”, he made a nervous giggle in his lightheaded state, only to find out it was just lighting a cigarette against an already lit one.

Finally, he realized something and turned to Brittany. “Wait. Brittany, why aren’t you smoking?”

Brittany looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I have to be a good example for Lord Tubbington.”