Chapter 8

The remainder of the summer vacation slipped by fast and peacefully. Blaine’s parents gave up and – with minimal amount of contact with their son – they filled out all the paperwork required for his transfer to take place.

Kurt was ecstatic he had his best friend just a five minute drive away, and hanging out together became so easy, they barely spent any time apart. Aileen soon got used to the fact that Blaine living in her house meant she usually had two boys around or none at all. It also meant there were four more hands to satisfy Goldie with enormous amounts of petting, and the boys were eager to take the dog for long walks around Lima.

Transferring to McKinley also involved one more thing: spending time with the rest of the New Directions, of which Blaine hoped to become a member soon enough. They had already hung out last school year, but now he was about to really be one of the pack. It wasn’t then surprising when the end of summer Glee club party Finn threw unofficially turned into welcome-to-Glee party for Blaine.

Finn took care to send his mother to Burt’s for the night – something Kurt tried hard not to think about – while Puck was in charge of getting booze – something that evoked images of new teen pregnancies and people vomiting all over each other in Rachel’s mind. But nobody protested too vociferously against the idea of getting drunk before their junior or sophomore years. When else were they supposed to be irresponsible, after all?

It wasn’t long before Kurt’s eyelids started drooping; he couldn’t really sleep with the noise of the party all around. He had no idea what made Tina and Mercedes laugh so hard, but he didn’t care. He rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder, closing his eyes to stop the world from whirling around him.

But he didn’t get to stay in this comfortable position for long.

‘Let’s spin the bottle!,’ Rachel’s voice cut into his ears, shriller drunk than sober.

Blaine almost let Kurt’s head fall onto the ground as he yelled his agreement enthusiastically. It was strange how keen on kissing he became whenever he was tipsy. Kurt rolled his eyes, trying to straighten his back, but his head felt too heavy.

‘I’m not kissing you again, no way,’ Kurt mumbled to his friend.

‘Oh, come on, there are other people here, too. And it’s gonna be fun!’ Blaine’s inhibitions were apparently entirely gone by now, removed by the vodka shots Puck had served him.

Finn excused himself from the game, clearly mad at Rachel for something and possibly uncomfortable with the idea he might have to kiss Quinn again. Their issues still weren’t completely resolved. The rest, however, seemed quite happy about the entertainment.

The bottle was sent spinning by a surprisingly loud Tina, who pleaded for the first turn. All eyes followed the revolving bottle, as it started to gradually slow down, slipped past Artie – to his obvious dread – and stopped, pointing directly at Mike. Tina scanned his reaction for one cautious moment, before practically throwing herself at the boy, who was most definitely not her boyfriend.

Kurt thought they looked like they were eating each other’s tonsils out and winced. That kiss was definitely lasting much too long. Finally Artie cleared his throat and the two separated with bashful expressions on their faces.

Next up was Santana.

‘I better get someone hot, though no one can match me, obviously, ‘cause I’m the hottest bitch in this joint,’ she said, leaning to the bottle and sending it into its roundabout motion again.

Everyone was close to getting into a hypnotic trance, when the bottle finally stopped and they all looked up at the person it pointed at.

‘Yay! The bottle chose wisely,’ said Brittany, keeping her eyes still on the neck of the bottle directed at her and clapping her fingers together.

Without a split second of hesitation, Santana reached out to tug Brittany closer and planted a kiss full on her mouth. A few jaws dropped as a tongue flashed between the girls’ parted lips. Both friends were apparently enjoying themselves.

‘This is so hot,’ Puck murmured, his gaze fixed on the girls.

Kurt rolled his eyes at him, but Puck was too busy watching to notice.

‘Okay, guys, that’s enough of the show,’ Kurt said. ‘A little longer and Puck would start hoping for you to strip.’

The next few turns were uneventful; a few pecks on the lips were exchanged without things getting too heated.

And then it was Rachel’s turn and she threw Finn a challenging gaze. He only sighed, shrugging his shoulders, clearly telling her he wasn’t bothered.

So his girlfriend spun the bottle so hard it jumped out of the centre of the circle, bumped off some knees, before stopping with its neck blatantly pointing at Blaine, who burst into a fit of giggles.

‘Come on, Blaine,’ she said, making her way to him on all fours. ‘Let’s say you kiss me and I’ll let you have a solo in Glee club.’

The whole circle roared with laughter, partly because of Rachel’s appropriated authority, and partly because they knew perfectly well which team Blaine played for. Santana had called him “Lady Hummel’s gayfriend” for a full month, before learning what his name was.

Blaine laughed along with them, but leaned in, puckering his lips playfully. Rachel sent one more scornful look at her boyfriend, and put her hand on the nape of Blaine’s neck, catching his lips with her own.

Everyone held their eyes fixed on the two, watching as Rachel closed her eyes at the touch of Blaine’s mouth, him soon following suit. A few seconds and a few tentative moves of their lips later, the group gathered around them was beginning to grow uncomfortable, flashing glances at each other in surprise. Kurt frowned; his friend really looked like he was enjoying it. Blaine Anderson, a total flaming gay, making out with a girl and liking it? Strange, strange, strange.

After another good ten or fifteen seconds, the two finally separated. Blaine’s expression was a curious combination of dopiness and extreme confusion.

‘Your face tastes awesome,’ Rachel said, her eyes still glued to Blaine’s lips.

A state of general bewilderment pervaded for a while, until more booze began flowing into red plastic cups and memories of the game became as blurry as the bottle in motion.

***

A huge yawn escaped Kurt’s mouth. The caffeine from the coffee he was cradling in his hands hadn’t kicked in yet, alcohol still buzzing in his head. He was sitting on the top step of the back porch of the tiny Hudson house, with Blaine perched a stair lower with his barely touched mug and a furrowed forehead.

The party had pretty much ended an hour earlier. Some people had left, some stayed, lying randomly on any piece of furniture available. Artie dozed off in his wheelchair with his head at an awkward angle. Kurt and Blaine were the only ones still awake.

‘Kurtie?,’ Blaine said unexpectedly.

His friend lifted his sleepy eyes at him. There was no doubt what Blaine wanted to talk about; Kurt knew this conversation was coming, but wouldn’t force Blaine into it. They told each other everything, though, and that meant occurrences like that night’s had to be discussed sooner or later.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you think I could be straight?’ The question sounded uncertain.

Kurt smirked. ‘No, I don’t. But you don’t either, do you?’

Blaine shook his head, staring down on his lukewarm coffee.

‘But then, when Rachel kissed me, it was… I don’t know- Pleasant?’ He lifted his eyes at his friend, confusion shaping his features.

They stayed silent for another moment, Blaine completely immersed in the muddle of his thoughts. He couldn’t recall ever being this disoriented about his sexuality; for as long as he could remember, he knew he wanted to kiss boys, hold boys’ hands, and someday marry a boy. But now that he’d got to kiss a girl, the prospect of being with one didn’t seem quite as dreadful as it used to.

‘Do you think I might be bi?’ The alcohol that still coursed through his veins didn’t make his soul searching any easier.

Kurt moved down a step with a sigh and put an arm on his friend’s shoulder.

‘I don’t know, you have to figure it out on your own.’

Blaine chuckled bitterly. ‘And how am I supposed to do that? My brain’s a mess.’

Kurt smiled sympathetically at him and pointed at the mug in his hands.

‘Step one, drink the coffee. You’ll sober up, maybe that’ll help. And if not…’ His voice trailed off dramatically.

‘And if not?,’ Blaine echoed helplessly.

‘You gotta test the theory. Kiss her again. Or any girl, really. Maybe that would clear things up for you.’

A small smile fluttered on Blaine’s lips.

‘You think it’s gonna work?’

‘You won’t find out, unless you try it.’

***

The caffeine they consumed kept them up until morning, when the rest was beginning to stir out of their slumber, rubbing their sore necks and stretching their numb limbs. Kurt and Blaine got snatched by Finn, as they reentered the house through the French door that led to the back porch.

‘Guys, could you help me with this mess? I don’t want my Mom to kill me for all this,’ he pleaded, waving his hand at the abandoned cups and potato chips bags, and crumbs of food scattered all over the floor, almost hitting Kurt in the process. Finn hadn’t drunk the previous night, but still was as uncoordinated as ever.

They nodded their agreement and took to pick up the trash.

‘Did Rachel go home, Finn?,’ Kurt asked after a moment’s silence.

Finn rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, she’s mad at me. She says I didn’t pay her enough attention.’ There was a tone of irritation in his voice. ‘So she wanted to piss me off and made out with Blaine. Which was weird, by the way, dude.’

Blaine held his eyes down, apparently fascinated by a popcorn seed stomped into the carpet.

‘Yeah, I know. Sorry for that.’ He grimaced at the floor.

Kurt felt a surge of sympathy for him. Sure, he’d always lived convinced being gay was something he and Blaine had in common, but on the other hand, it wasn’t the only thing that made them understand each other so well. Blaine was his best friend, and getting angry for something like that wouldn’t help him right now. The case would be entirely different, if they were dating, but when Kurt had watched him make out with Rachel the previous night, the feeling that filled him completely wasn’t jealousy. It was a profound, profound concern.

In a short while everyone was up and bustling about the house, gathering trash or their belongings. Kurt stayed in the living room with Blaine and a slightly hungover Brittany.

‘Where did my bra go?,’ she said to nobody in particular, looking down at her chest and frowning.

An idea popped into Kurt’s mind as he watched her. There was a chance this would actually work.

‘Britt?,’ he asked, startling her a little.

She looked around and smiled widely when her eyes found him standing next to the sofa she was sitting on.

‘Hi, Kurt.’ She caught a glimpse of Blaine lurking around the windows. ‘Oh, hi, Blaine.’

‘Brittany, could you do me a favour? Well, not me, but Blaine.’ His friend’s head snapped up, as realization kicked in and his eyes bulged out.

‘No, no, no, Kurt, I’ll figure it out on my own.’ He began shaking his head violently, as a crooked smile entered Kurt’s face. Gosh, this was already working.

Shushing Blaine and waving him impatiently away, Kurt turned back to Brittany, who had been watching them curiously all along.

‘Britt, do you think you could- um- kiss Blaine?,’ he asked.

Blaine moaned behind him, hiding his face in his hands. Brittany shrugged her shoulders indifferently. Well, she had made out with ninety per cent of the school, so it was no biggie for her.

‘Sure. So… Blaine doesn’t like boys anymore?’ Her face looked sad and confused at the same time.

‘Let’s check, shall we?,’ Kurt replied with a beaming smile and jumped up to drag Blaine to the sofa to settle him in the same spot he’d just occupied. ‘This is going to be an experiment.’

‘Cool.’ Brittany smiled at Blaine, who threw a murderous glare at Kurt.

She leaned forward, grasping Blaine by his shirt and pulling him to her face. Her lips touched his with much less apprehension than Rachel’s the night before. She closed her eyes, moving her mouth expertly, while Blaine stayed wide-eyes and limp against her kisses. Kurt raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

‘Okay, that’s enough, thanks, Brittany,’ he said, and the two broke apart. ‘So, Blaine?’

‘Yup, I’m gay. One hundred per cent gay.’ He beamed up at Kurt.