Chapter 5

He didn’t run after him. But when was it something he expected Blaine to do? Kurt wasn’t exactly the nicest to Blaine yet he felt they had some sort of caring feeling for each other. Well, he couldn’t even say that. Hell, he couldn’t even explain the reasons for the tears that were splayed across his cheeks. At least not now.

What’s up with you? – Blaine

What are you talking about? – Kurt

You ran out crying last night. What’s wrong? – Blaine

I wasn’t crying. There was a lot of dust from the costumes. – Kurt

You send the costumes to the dry cleaners twice a week. There shouldn’t be any dust on them. And don’t ignore the question, what’s wrong? – Blaine

I’m tired – Kurt

That doesn’t explain the crying. – Blaine

And the running. – Blaine

Okay, the dust was makeup and I was in a hurry to go back home. Happy?

Now leave me alone. – Kurt

I don’t believe you. – Blaine

---

Blaine’s acting weird – Rachel

And? - Kurt

He never acts weird. You’re acting weird too. I haven’t heard you insult my outfit

once during the appetizer! – Rachel

I don’t want to insult you in front of your manager. And I’m too busy eating. – Kurt

Oh, I can tell. You haven’t let go of that fork since you sat down. – Rachel

Kurt dropped his fork into his bowl of salad and gaped at Rachel who was smirking at him from across the table. She was right, though. Kurt did his best to avoid any eye contact with Blaine by grabbing anything and shoving it in his mouth. Ripping slices of bread from rolls and slapping on butter then forcing it into his mouth. Ordering extra foods, gulping down diet Coke’s and wiping his mouth with a clothed napkin. Chandler wasn’t invited to the dinner; it was only Blaine sitting next to Kurt and Rachel sitting next to Jesse St. James across from them. Blaine was overall quiet. He’d dressed in a goofy green sweater vest with a pink bow tie and brown skinny jeans that somehow was pulled together well with his hair slicked back with a less amount of gel. He would turn his head to Kurt every now and again, opening his mouth as if to say something but would just take another sip from his drink and look back down at his plate. Why was it so awkward, though? They hated each other. Nothing more. Nothing less. At least that’s how it seemed to Kurt. So why was a fight effecting how they talk to each other. It shouldn’t. They fight every day. Whether it be in person or through text, they would bicker constantly. This isn’t different, right?

After some unsuccessful tries to get a conversation going, Rachel excused herself from the table while Jesse got occupied with his phone and not paying attention to Kurt and Blaine.

“Will you stop jabbing your elbow in my side?” Blaine whispered harshly pushing Kurt’s arm from his.

“I’m eating. Sorry,” Kurt answered unenthused and continued to eat, jabbing Blaine in the side as he did.

Blaine set down his fork and turned to Kurt with a sharp stare. Kurt cheekily smiled in return then licked the dressing from his lips, “Seriously?” Blaine asked.

“Oh, quite whining. You should be glad you’re in the same room as me,” Kurt shoved some more pieces of lettuce in his mouth.

“Don’t you mean you should be glad you’re in the same room as me?” Blaine retorted unfolding his napkin that slapped Kurt as it did.

“Don’t get so cocky. You’re just a replacement,” Kurt tried to say professionally but it just came out rudely. He reached over for another roll while bumping a fork out of Blaine’s hand then grinned into the roll as he took a bite from it.

“Well, I don’t see you performing on that stage, do I?” the other man muttered reaching for the butter knife instead of the dropped fork then sweeped some butter onto a roll then wiped the access on Kurt’s wrist, receiving a frustrated groan from the other man.

“No, but-,” Kurt cut himself off and wiped the butter off of his wrist with his napkin. “Fuck you,” he whispered taking a long sip of diet Coke.

“When and where?” Blaine chuckled as Kurt choked into his drink, hunching over, coughing and lowering the drink from his lips and to the table. He felt Blaine’s harsh slaps on his back that got the diet Coke out from the wrong pipe in a matter of a few seconds. “You’re jealous I have a boyfriend, aren’t you?” Blaine asked raising an eyebrow in amusement once Kurt sat up.

“No,” Kurt answered almost too quickly as he turned his face towards his plate again, heat crawling to his cheeks. No need to blush, Kurt, he thought.

“You totally are! No wonder you wanted me to break up with Chandler, you want him all to yourself, don’t you?” Blaine teased.

“No, no, no,” Kurt protested, dropping his fork and looking at the laughing Blaine next to him, “I don’t like Chandler”.

“Sure you don’t” Blaine hummed taking a gulp from his drink. “So what was the plan? You’d cry and run so that Chandler will run after you?” He looked at the gaping Kurt and chuckled to himself. Oh, so he’s amused by my frustration? He thought angrily.

“No, I told you I was in a hurry. Just leave it at that,” Kurt pushed himself from the table and pulled out his wallet then threw a considerable amount of money on the table. “There. I paid for your meal,” he tucked his wallet back in his pocket and stood. “Now there’s no reason for you to bother me anymore”.

“Too bad Jesse’s paying for my dinner. You just left a large tip,” Blaine grinned with a mouth full of food, “You still owe me”.

Kurt bit at his lip and tapped his foot to the ground. “Tell Rachel I have some summer reading to catch up on and that I’ll text her later, okay?”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Blaine asked annoyed slightly.

“Because if you haven’t noticed, I don’t want to be around you right now,” Kurt growled double checking a look at Jesse to make sure he hadn’t heard.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell her,” the other man rubbed at his eyes and continued his meal.

Kurt muttered a “thank you” then left the restaurant into a not-so crowded street. He spotted a big truck that parked in front of the theater for The Jersey Boys. There were ropes and ladders pulling heavy lighted signs that spelled out Blaine Anderson and was being hoisted into the air to be placed next to the large poster of The Jersey Boys. All Kurt could muster in his boggled head was that someone he despised so greatly was literally everywhere.

---

Kurt furiously stuffed costumes and makeup into boxes and pushed them aside, walking quickly to the dressing rooms and emptying trash cans. He made sure to avoid Blaine for the past few days which came to be very difficult. First, Rachel begged for another sleepover but he successfully turned away with the famous excuse that he has summer work to finish, which was nonexistent. Second, Blaine would use his seductive Jersey dialect to talk to Kurt at every chance he could. Sometimes he would have to shake his head roughly, as if it would clear away the vivid image of Blaine sticking his tongue down Chandler’s throat. Kurt bit his lip and looked at a taped up poster with Blaine’s face plastered on the front. He then ripped down the paper from the brick wall and balled it up with his hands then threw it towards the trash can. “You missed,” Blaine said still in his costume and Jersey dialect, his hair was gelled but springs of curls poked from the gel and sweat gleamed on his forehead. Kurt was especially mad that this unkempt look could be so attractive. “Why would you trash little ol’ me?” he asked placing the ball of paper in a trash can.

“Seeing your face everywhere is annoying,” the other man answered and paused, “and tacky,” he added. It was true, though.

“Sherry doesn’t think so,” he raised his eyebrows and neared Kurt.

“Blaine, cut it out. I’m done with this stupid game. It’s after show, anyways. Why don’t you go party or- or-,” he stuttered.

“Or what?” he narrowed his eyes at the manager.

“Fuck Chandler,” he offered in more of a growl than anything, swiveling on his heels towards a desk with a stack of papers. He was starting to get invested in the papers when he felt two strong hands snaking around his hips, a head leaning close to his shoulder, “Chandler never wants to,” he whispered deep into his ear.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kurt muttered and squeaked through his teeth yet he was shaking from the feeling of Blaine’s hot breath hovering over his ear and creeping down to his neglected neck. He then felt Blaine’s hands grip his waist tighter which made him jump up, breath hitching and broke from the hold. “Enough!” Kurt shouted, his voice echoing throughout the empty theater. He was sure he heard the hangers on the racks rattling from the sound. As much as he hated yelling, he forced himself to continue. He may have even slipped in a lie. “I don’t like you, okay? So leave me alone!” he turned and grabbed his messenger bag, then stormed out of the theater. He didn’t even want to think of Blaine’s rejected face that showed once he left.

---

He scuffed his feet on the ground outside of the pet shop; he didn’t know how to walk inside the store. What was he supposed to say? He knew that if he stepped inside, he would take a look at the empty cage and end up where he was then. Outside. Eventually, he glanced through the windows and entered the store, studying the tiles of the floor before reaching the counter. “Uhm,” he started, noticing the worker poking his head from the back of the counter. He was a tall young man with thickly framed glasses, shaggy blonde hair, and a short untamed beard. His eyes were the most striking green, even from far away; he tied an apron on his lengthy body and grinned at Kurt.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a really long time!” the cashier was perked up; eyes lit up in pure happiness, voice sounding a bit hoarse yet quiet. “You just missed it, too. You’re bud was sold last week,” he motioned the empty cage. How the Hell could someone look so happy that the precious dog was ripped from his life? Words had fell so easily from his lips, too fast, his emotions too upbeat for Kurt to stand. After a long moment of silence, Kurt looked at anything but the worker. The cashier quickly noticed his sadness and softened his face, taking a deep breath, almost trying to be careful, like one wrong word will make Kurt shatter. “Oh, you came to buy the dog didn’t you?” he asked sadly.

“No,” the other man sniffed, “I saw that he was gone a few days ago I just came to-,” he cut himself and looked at the door, contemplating whether or not to leave right then.

“To,” the cashier helped, tilting his head to the side, wondering what the troubled customer needed.

“Do you know who-,” Kurt stopped himself then shook his head, pushing himself from the counter. “No, uhm, I’m going way too far,” he chuckled in embarrassment.

“No you aren’t,” the cashier shook his head and leaned down to some shelves in the counter and pulled out a clipboard, “it’s normal to be, you know, curious. I can tell you his first name but the rest is personal information.” He looked at the paper on the board and stroked his finger down the page, stopping at a name, “Is this okay?”

“Y- yeah,” Kurt looked at the worker’s finger, trying not to read around it.

The cashier nodded and set the clipboard to its original spot then looked back at Kurt. “Do you really want to know?” he asked cocking up an eyebrow. He received a nod so small that it could have been a bobble head’s nod once tapped lightly with a tired finger. “Then I guess you’ll have to have dinner with me tonight”.

Kurt chuckled in shock then noticed he was actually serious, “Uhm, I don’t need to know that mu-,”

“Are you afraid?” the worker grinned, “I won’t bite,” he then put a hand on his hip, watching the other man intently, “unless it’s turkey. I love me some turkey,” he chuckled, playing with the ties on his apron with the unoccupied hand.

The other man studied the dork behind the counter and blushed. What could one date do? Plus, he’ll also get to know who has Samps- the dog. “Okay, only one time,” Kurt showed his pointer finger in the air to emphasize that this would only happen once.

“It’s a date,” the cashier smiled, his eyes lighting back up into a mysterious green.

“It’s a date- uh,” Kurt craned his neck to read the worker’s name tag, “Cameron,” he read.

“I can’t wait…,” he paused adjusting his thick glasses.

“Oh,” the other man realized, “I’m Kurt,” he reached out a hand as Cameron quickly wrapped his in it and shook it. They let it linger there for a moment longer than appropriate then Kurt released.

“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” Cameron tested the name for the first time on his tongue then chuckled at Kurt who stood on the other side of the counter, pushing his business card in his hand, waving with an painful grin and headed out of the shop.

“No more pet stores,” Kurt sighed, walking with a little more pep in his step towards his apartment, dreading the bright smile that spread across his cheeks.

---

“So I have a date tonight,” Kurt told his Dad through the phone, still blushing from when he first left the pet store.

“Really?” Burt asked. There was a sense of pride in his voice but also nervousness,

“What’s his name?”

“Cameron,” Kurt smiled to himself at the name, “he works at the pet shop near my school”.

“Huh, is this your first date?” Burt asked, Kurt could hear the slight uncomfortable feel in his father’s voice but the fact that Burt was actually asking questions and having of some interest, it was enough for him.

“Yeah. Our first and last,” he chuckled, “I was kind of tricked into it”.

“Tricked? You’re letting people walk over you like that?”

“Dad! No, it’s not like that,” he paused. “It probably won’t go anywhere anyways,” Kurt sighed and switched the phone to the other ear.

“Alright, I don’t want to be in the way of anything, you got me, Kurt? If you want, you can go on more, uh, dates with Carl-,”

“Cameron,” Kurt interrupted.

“Right, Cameron. I just want you to be safe,” Burt sighed through the other line.

“I will, okay, Dad?” Kurt tried to soothe, allowing time for his Dad to think from all of this new information. Dating didn’t settle well with him, but he was trying.

“I love you, son,” Burt said, his smile evident in his voice.

“I love you too, Dad. I’ll be safe and call tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Tomorrow,” Burt said quickly.

“Night,” Kurt chirped and hung up the phone. He sometimes wished he’d dated more in high school so that his Dad wouldn’t treat Kurt’s dates like this. But who was he kidding? It was rare for Kurt to go on dates, the fact that he got one tonight was even shocking to him. But it was thrillingly new. Something to get his mind off of that damn dog and Blaine. Since when was Blaine the source of his problems? “Good Lord,” Kurt muttered, internally slapping himself at the thought. It was true. He despised Blaine. So he should try to push every thought of him out of his mind. Starting now.

And you thought I couldn’t get a date. Look who has one now? Maybe visiting pet shops has its benefits. – Kurt

Starting tomorrow. He corrected.

---

“I work at a pet shop so don’t expect anything fancy,” Cameron led Kurt into the coffee shop, pulling off his dorky look. Wearing a brown vest, dark orange tie, black skinny jeans, and duck shoes, he seemed to be more himself. He began cracking cheesy jokes and saying odd works like “sick” and “nasty” in positive ways. It was a completely new feel but Kurt enjoyed his classic look and sense of humor, but was it bad that wanting to know who bought the dog was crowding his mind to a point where he didn’t even pay attention to some of Cameron’s stories? Okay, it was bad. Kurt Hummel was on a date with a cute, funny, and charming guy but all he could think of was a sold dog’s owner?

“So I know you’re here because you want to know who bought your bud but if that wasn’t the case, would you have gone anyways?” Cameron asked not looking at Kurt. He was folding a cheap napkin to try to occupy his fingers while he waited for what he thought to be horrible answer.

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even know you were gay. I usually assume that pet store workers are off limits but I don’t know. I might have said yes if you at least told me your name first name,” Kurt smiled and took a sip from his coffee. “Don’t think like that anyways, I’m here now”.

Cameron gave a toothy smile and supported his head with his hands, “You are. And you look absolutely dashing,” he cooed, driving his energy from the color of Kurt’s blush in his cheeks.

“Thank you,” the other man said quietly, “you seem to be the only one to notice”.

“Who wouldn’t notice?” Cameron had a look in his face like it would be absolutely ridiculous not to notice.

Kurt tilted his head in a way that read “You don’t really know me, do you?” and stared at his cooling coffee. “Apparently everyone except you,” he smiled. Cameron spent the next few minutes day dreaming, and watching Kurt. Well, mostly watching Kurt which was a strange feel. He wasn’t used to another handsome man watching him and not wanting to look away. At times, Cameron would prop his head up with his hands, adjust his glasses, and keep looking at Kurt. The other man didn’t know what to do. He just stayed quiet, glancing at Cameron occasionally, and nursing his coffee.

“Blaine,” Cameron said blankly.

“W-what?” Kurt asked. How did he know he knew Blaine? Why did he say it randomly? Or did he think something was up between them? How-

“Blaine was the person who bought the dog,” Cameron sighed and looked down at his half eaten turkey sub, “now you probably will never go on a date with me again now that you know, huh”.

“Uh- No, uh, maybe we’ll do this again. We’ll see,” Kurt managed to say though his brain was throbbing from the new piece of information. “So all you can say is that his name is Blaine? Nothing else?” he asked curiously.

“Well, I can’t say his last name but I do know that he works as an actor at the theater down the street but I can’t say much else. It’s information we’re not allowed to give out due to contracts and store policies”.

“Oh, I see,” Kurt grabbed his coffee mug and sat up straight, preparing to leave. “Thank you for this dinner, Cameron,” he halfheartedly smiled.

“It was my pleasure,” Cameron took one last look at Kurt before letting him flee from the table.

“I bet it was,” Kurt muttered quietly under his breath and zipped from the coffee shop.

Next stop. Murdering a mutual friend.