To be completely honest – even though he liked football just as much as most straight guys he knew, Blaine had never actually attended one of Dalton's football games. At the beginning, right after his transfer, he'd been too afraid that he'd walk into his old bullies, or maybe get some new ones. Dalton was safe, but the football field generally wasn't.

But when one of his fellow Warblers – the only guy who was on the football team as well – announced during rehearsal that the next game would be played against the worst team in the state (they had played six games this season, and they hadn't won a single match; not even against that school for deaf kids), everyone started chatting excitedly about how funny it would be to see that team lose for the seventh time in a row. It would be a Warblers' outing. Supposing that he should be safe, surrounded by all his friends, Blaine agreed to go. He'd been itching to go to a game again, and this was the perfect opportunity. Long before the game would begin, Dalton's football team had it in the bag.

When he told his parents about the match, Blaine's father smiled at him for the first time in months. It was something Blaine had gotten used to: after he'd come out to his parents, his father hardly ever smiled at him anymore. The only times that he smiled at Blaine were when his son announced some or other activity that might possibly turn him straight again. Not that he'd ever said that out loud; he didn't need to. Blaine knew exactly how his father felt about him being gay.

His mother just told him to be safe, and to let them know if anyone gave him any trouble.

Blaine didn't know if they realised it, but neither of them told him to have fun.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Before he knew it, the day of the game had arrived. The football team was already celebrating their win, and the rest of the school happily joined them. Even some of the teachers seemed to find it amusing that there was a football team that hadn't won a single one of their games this school year. And from the rumours Blaine heard going around, the year before hadn't been a good one for the opposing team either.

It might not be a game worth watching for many people, but Blaine was glad he was going anyway.

That night, he was sitting in the backseat of David's car, while Wes and David occupied the front of the car. Nick and Jeff were sitting at Blaine's sides. They kept bouncing in their seats, barely able to contain their excitement. That was, until David got sick of it (however weird that may sound) and threatened to leave the two of them by the side of the road. And since they'd been the last Warblers to leave Dalton, they wouldn't be able to just ride along with someone else.

Needless to say, Jeff and Nick didn't make a sound until they arrived in Lima.

The school's parking lot was rather full already, but David managed to find a spot anyway somewhere to the side. They had agreed to meet up with the other Warblers at the front of the field – the tickets had been bought for them by the school because apparently, attending a football match counted as good bonding time for an a cappella show choir.

As was custom at 'school' trips, there was a head count when they reached the others and, upon concluding that everyone was present, the council members started handing out the tickets.

It surprised Blaine that so many seats were filled already, especially on the side of Lima's team. There was more than enough room in the guests' stands for the Warblers to all sit together in some way. They didn't have to wait for long until the players came out onto the field, and Blaine regarded the opposite team curiously. They looked like typical public school jocks to him – big, broad, menacing… not the type of people he wanted to meet in a deserted alley, or anywhere else where nobody was around.

When the game started, Blaine immediately realised that these guys were really, truly, the worst team he'd ever seen. They were slow, and they seemed to lack the enthusiasm that football players were supposed to have if they wanted to win a match. Blaine wondered if all the players even knew all the rules. It wouldn't surprise him if they didn't.

The captain, a tall guy who, alright, seemed to be one of the only ones on the team who wanted to win, kept getting tackled by Dalton's team, and Blaine wasn't surprised that Dalton led, six to zero. The team didn't score anymore points, which was odd, but Blaine just assumed that they didn't want to beat the other team by too much. They didn't want to embarrass this team more than they had.

Still, six to zero? The other team only had to score one touchdown and they'd have six points as well. It was a dangerous position, but perhaps the Dalton team wanted to play with fire. Blaine wasn't complaining; it made the game a little more exciting – which wasn't saying much. Blaine was actually pretty bored. The other guys had drooled over the cheerleading performance during halftime, and while Blaine was impressed by the gymnastics, he didn't see the appeal of a bunch of girls in short skirts showing off their bodies.

At the end of the fourth quarter, something strange happened. With one more second to go, the other team's captain called for a time-out and started talking to his teammates frantically. They didn't appear to like what he was saying, so Blaine let his gaze wander. Dalton's team was eyeing their opponents oddly. Not even the people who had come to support Lima's team seemed to know what was going on, if the uneasiness in the stands was any indication. The players on the bench were watching their teammates intently; they must know what was about to happen, and Blaine didn't know whether to be excited or weary.

"What's going on?" Blaine heard Jeff ask Nick, but Nick didn't seem to know the answer to that question either.

"They're probably just trying to win some extra time," Wes commented from Blaine's other side. "Not that it's going to save them."

When the team went back to their previous spots and the quarterback gestured towards a spot in the stands (Blaine thought), David frowned. "What's he doing?" he muttered, but he got his reply soon enough.

A song started playing.

Not just a song though – and Blaine recognised it immediately.

"Single Ladies?" he asked, completely dumbfounded. "What are they – "

"Seems more like something the cheerleaders would use for their performance," David said.

Wes nodded. "Probably some sort of mistake – "

"Look at the field!" Jeff cried out. If Blaine had been caught off guard by the song choice, it was nothing compared to how he felt when those huge, imposing, masculine football players started dancing to this song. A song sung by a female singer, a song about women, a song that didn't really belong on a football field.

Plus, the dance to the song wasn't very manly either. It was a little disturbing to see all those football players nailing the dance. The other audience members looked weirded out by the dance as well, and while Jeff was in hysterics, most other Warblers were watching the field with a mixture of shock and horror painted all over their faces.

"Even their coach is moving along," Nick muttered. "What is this? Where did we end up now?"

"This is one hell of a distraction," David commented. "I mean, look at our team!"

"They're dancing along," Blaine pointed out, causing David to roll his eyes.

"That's not what I mean, Blaine! They're completely lost; they have no idea what's happening."

"Neither do we," Nick reminded him.

As it turned out, David was right – the other team was back in formation within a split second, and before Dalton's team realised what was happening, the quarterback threw the ball across the field, and one of his teammates managed to catch it. Even though the guy was chased by a whole bunch of players, he scored – and of course, now the teams were even. Needless to say, the crowd went wild after that. It must've been the first time this season that this team had managed to score.

It pretty much sucked, Blaine contemplated. Dalton's team had had so many opportunities to score again, but they had never acted upon it. And now the other team's kicker would have the chance to finish the game.

"I heard he's not good at all," Wes said with a strained voice. "He hasn't scored at all this season."

"Neither had the team," Blaine reminded him sullenly. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd sent their kicker to some sort of camp to learn him how to kick properly. Dalton really had the worst luck ever.

"Here he comes," Jeff said, sounding like he wasn't having much fun anymore either.

"He's so small," Nick commented, frowning.

"That's probably why he's the kicker, and not the quarterback or something," Blaine said. Jeff was right, though; not only was the kicker the smallest player on the field, he didn't look very… jock-like at all.

For some reason, it hardly surprised Blaine this time around when Single Ladies started playing again and the kicker started moving along. He did notice, however, that this boy's movements seemed much more refined than the other players'. It wasn't that they'd been bad, but this boy probably could've danced to this song in his sleep.

And it certainly didn't escape Blaine's notice that the boy had a very nice ass. Sadly enough, his dance lasted merely a couple of seconds, as opposed to the other players' elaborate routine. Blaine wouldn't have really minded a longer show.

And he really needed to stop thinking like that. Because the kicker, nice ass or not, was far better than Wes had predicted. Besides, he was still a jock, and jocks sort of automatically hated gay guys.

"He scored," Wes said feebly, staring at the kicker as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "He scored. We lost. David – we lost! Wasn't this team supposed to be the worst high school team in Ohio?"

"They're awful alright," David replied. "But they surprised us. And their kicker isn't as bad as the rest of the team."

Jeff snorted. "Not as bad? That field goal looked amazing!"

The kicker had now been lifted onto his teammates' shoulders, and he waved happily at someone Blaine couldn't quite make out in the stands. As he was carried off of the field, people started leaving – to celebrate, probably.

As the other Warblers stood up as well, Blaine glanced at the field one last time. It had definitely been an interesting night.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Half an hour later, Blaine was standing next to David's car, tapping his foot impatiently. His friends had decided that they'd better use the bathroom before driving all the way back to Westerville, and David and Nick had complained about being hungry, so they were going to see if there was a hotdog stand around somewhere.

Blaine had thought he could wait by the car, but he hadn't expected them to take this long. Nearly everyone had left, and he didn't want to get beaten up by a group of jocks he didn't know in a nearly empty parking lot.

" – bunch of kids that usually beat you up." Blaine looked up from the ground and saw two figures approaching, a bigger and a smaller one.

"But they'll get kicked off the team if they bully me now," the other voice tried to reason with the first.

"I'm not sure if – " the first voice started, but he was interrupted.

"Hummel!" someone shouted from a distance away. Both figures turned towards the source of the voice. "My car won't start, give me a hand, would you?"

The bigger figure laid a hand on the other's shoulder. "Just wait by the car, alright? I'll be right back."

As he walked off, the smaller person started walking towards Blaine again, coming to a halt only by the car next to David's. He leaned against it, and only then appeared to notice Blaine standing there.

"Oh, hello," he greeted Blaine, sounding a little confused. Then, his eyes seemed to narrow. "You're not going to beat me up, right? Because my dad isn't that far away…"

Blaine, however, was much too surprised by his sudden realisation that this was actually the other team's kicker, and that the boy looked even more fragile up close than from a distance. "No…," he said in the end, blinking. "No, of course not. You're an amazing kicker, by the way."

The boy shrugged. "So they keep telling me. I actually hardly have any idea of what's going on at that field most of the time, no matter how often my dad tries to explain it to me."

"Not a football fan?" Blaine asked curiously. "Why did you join the team if you don't know the game?"

The boy eyed him carefully. "One of my… friends told my dad that I was on the football team," he responded after a few seconds. "She meant well, but… then he wanted a ticket to the next game, so I had to get on the team. I guess I was just lucky that the team was in desperate need of a kicker."

Blaine snorted. "No offense, but your team desperately needs better players."

"You don't go to McKinley?" the boy asked rhetorically. "There are no better players here, from what I hear."

"I go to Dalton," Blaine replied, feeling slightly uneasy. Time for a subject change, he thought. "But why would your friend tell your dad you're on the football team if you're not?"

The boy sighed. "We got caught in somewhat of a… compromising situation." He coughed and blushed, before hastily adding, "Nothing sexual, I mean, just… not something most teenage boys tend to do."

Nodding, Blaine studied the other boy's face. His blush made him look even younger than before, and not for the first time did Blaine wonder why they'd let him on the team. He seemed much too small, and too young, to be part of the team. Yes, he was cute. But – Blaine cursed inwardly for letting go of his train of thought so easily.

The boy now continued. "I don't think my dad believed her when she said I was on the team, and I don't think he's really all that comfortable with me being on the team either. He can be a little overprotective at times."

"What were you doing when he caught you?" Blaine asked without thinking. "I mean – sorry, it's not my place to pry."

"No, it's not," the boy quipped. He stared in the direction his father had walked off in.

"I'm Blaine, by the way," Blaine introduced himself, internally berating himself for not doing that earlier.

"And I'm Kurt," the other boy said, still a little standoffish.

"If I tell you a story about why I'm at Dalton now, will you tell me what you were doing?" Blaine offered. It might be dangerous, yes – what if the boy was a closeted homophobe, or something, and called all his teammates to beat Blaine to pulp? But Blaine had a good feeling about this, somehow. "You may be able to relate to it – I just… heard your dad say something about bullying? Not that I want to imply that you're – "

"Yes, I'm being bullied at school," Kurt interrupted him, rolling his eyes.

"Right," Blaine said. "So… would that be alright?" Kurt didn't reply, but simply raised his eyebrows as if to urge Blaine to continue. "I was bullied too," Blaine said bluntly. "Not from the beginning, of course, but basically, after my coming out, it was everyone against me. So after middle school, my parents pulled me out of public school, and sent me to Dalton instead." Sure, it wasn't quite what you'd call the extensive version of the story, but he wasn't going into details with this complete stranger.

"Your… coming out?" Kurt asked hesitantly, looking Blaine up and down.

"I'm gay," Blaine replied, making sure to watch the other boy's reaction closely. There was only surprise on Kurt's face.

"You're gay?" he whispered. "Oh, wow. I never thought…" He trailed off. Then, he seemed to think of something. "Anyway, my dad caught me and two friends dancing to Single Ladies, in matching outfits." Seeing Blaine's shock, he added with a roll of his eyes, "Yes, that whole distraction thing on the field was pretty much my fault."

"Well, you did help your team win for the first time this season…" Blaine muttered. "And I'm sure your dad's proud of you, right?"

Kurt shrugged in response. "I guess he is. I just don't really want to stay on the team for much longer, you know? I don't like it that much, and… well, most other players don't appreciate me being there much either. And they keep telling me to use the girls' locker room instead because they're afraid that I'm peering at their junk, or something." He visibly shuddered at that.

"That sucks," Blaine commented dryly.

Kurt pulled a face. "You're telling me…"

"So they think you're gay?" Blaine asked carefully. Not that it was any of his business, but now his curiosity had been piqued. He simply couldn't help himself.

"They do," Kurt muttered. "Everyone does, actually." He snorted, then glanced around for a few seconds. "I doubt I'll even have to come out anymore. It's common knowledge by now."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said sorrowfully. He himself had quite liked the fact that he'd been able to figure out his feelings on his own before telling the people around him. Many of them hadn't quite seen it coming, so he could come to terms with his sexuality in peace. It seemed that everyone Kurt knew had already made their assumptions and was harassing him for it, not allowing the boy to draw that conclusion for himself, to accept himself for who he was because they already were letting him know that they thought he was a freak of nature.

Kurt just shrugged helplessly. "There's not much you can do about it, right? Plus, maybe it is easier for me, in a way. Coming out must be tougher when everyone assumes you're straight than when everyone's already having their suspicions that you might be gay."

That was probably true as well. "Have you told your parents, though?" he asked, unsure if the imposing figure that was Kurt's dad would easily accept that his son was gay.

Kurt shifted uneasily. "I haven't," he admitted. "I'm just… scared that my dad'll be so disappointed in me."

Blaine swallowed. "But if he's really as protective of you as you say – and if everyone already suspects you're gay… don't you think he sort of knows as well?"

"Maybe," Kurt admitted quietly. "Oh – there he comes."

And indeed, Kurt's father was walking towards the car again. Placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders, Blaine smiled at the other boy. "It'll be fine, Kurt, you can do this," he told him. "Remember – courage."

Kurt nodded. "Thank you," he muttered. "Uh – do you think we could meet up again some time? Just to talk, of course."

Blaine grinned at him. "I think that would be good for both of us," he said. They would be able to relate to one another far better than anyone else could, he assumed. "I'll just add you on Facebook, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Kurt replied, smiling a little as well. By now, his father had reached them, and with another smile and a small wave, Kurt was sitting in the car. His father looked at Blaine warily for a split second before getting in as well. Even before the car had left the parking lot, Blaine already had his phone out, ready to add Kurt as soon as he found the boy.

Of course, he was just about to look for Kurt on the social networking site when his friends returned. They apologised (rather profusely, at that), but for some reason, Blaine couldn't be too mad at them for being so late. He wouldn't have wanted to miss meeting this spectacular boy for anything in the world.