Chapter Two

October 2012

“It was an involuntary response, Althea –“

“You're a grown man,” Kurt's boss interrupted. “Are you telling me that it was absolutely necessary to scream, at that pitch, in front of all my customers, because you saw a mouse in the kitchen?”

“That's my natural pitch.  I can reach a high F if I --”

Althea raised a hand.  “Kurt, I like you.  You know that.  But you've been late twice this week.  You spend too much time texting all your friends, looking at yourself in the backs of spoons and adjusting your beret.  Not to mention reading US Weekly and discussing it for hours with the old ladies who come in here after their bingo games.”

“They like to talk to me,” Kurt protested.  “And a lot of them order another drink while we chat.  If I chased them out of here they wouldn't do that.”

His boss wasnt impressed. “They don't buy enough coffee to make it worth the space they take up on the couches all afternoon. I'm trying to run a profitable coffee shop here, not a retirement home.  And now on top of that, you make a huge scene and let everybody know we have mice?” she hissed.

“I'm sorry?” Kurt  tried, when he realized she was waiting for a response..

Althea heaved a sigh.  “I would have fired anybody else by now, Kurt. This is your last warning.  There are plenty of other college students who would gladly take your place.  No more shenanigans.  I mean it.”

“Yes ma'am.”   Kurt had started energetically nodding halfway through Althea's speech, and his beret now felt a bit askew.  He resisted the temptation to check it in the mirror that ran along the biscotti case behind Althea's head.  “I'll start by bussing those tables, okay, maam?"  

“Fine,” she muttered.  She gave him a final stink-eye before going to restock the biscotti.

Kurt scampered over with his bus tub to a nearby table.  Conscious of Althea's judgmental eyes on him, he hurriedly pulled on his gloves and started clearing.  He didn't intend to be in this dead-end job any longer than necessary. If he believed in any kind of god, he would have been on his knees 24/7 praying to him, her or it, for an acceptance letter  from one of the thirty-seven internship applications he'd mailed to Manhattan. But he couldnt afford a bad reference he needed to get back on Althea's good side, and fast.

As he straightened up after picking up a stray napkin from the floor, he caught a glimpse in the nearby wall mirror of a group of jacketed prep school boys coming in.  He discreetly watched their reflection as he wiped down a table, careful not to be too obvious in front of his already peeved boss. There was no rule against looking, as long as he kept working, right?

He recognized a few of the boys as senior Dalton Warblers – Trent, Jeff and Nick – but others were new to him.  He ran an eye up and down one in particular, his eyes lingering appreciatively.  Shiny dark hair slicked back like Rudolph Valentino.  A little on the shorter side, but with a trim build and a very, very nice backside.  

He dropped the rag into the bus tub and turned around --  just as the dreamboat glanced over.  “Hey Kurt,” Blaine said, and Kurt dropped his tub  to the floor with a crash.

He hurried to collect his wits along with the scattered cups and plates, thankful that Althea had apparently gone to the kitchen.  Blaine was by his side immediately, crouching down to help him. Kurt scrubbed at the floor with the dishrag, keeping an eye on the kitchen door.

“I was hoping I'd see you today,” Blaine said, sunny and beaming.   He deposited the last cup into the tub and helped Kurt up.  “I have great news, and you're the first person I wanted to tell.  I tried out for the Warblers, and I got in!  And the captain said I can probably sing lead  on a song at Sectionals!”

“That – that's great, great.  And, you - -  you look –“ He gestured vaguely up and down with his dishrag.

“Oh yeah.  You haven't seen my Dalton uniform yet, have you?” Blaine straightened his tie proudly.

“Or the hairstyle,” Kurt managed to choke out.  “That's a new look for you.”

Blaine ran a hand over his gleaming gelled hair, smiling at about 1,000 watts and making Kurt go strangely weak in the knees.  “Well, I always hated my curly hair, and when I went on the campus tour I noticed some guys did it this way. Decided to try it myself.  What do you think?”

“I – I – I like it.  It makes you look a lot older,” Kurt stammered.  That was it.  Of course.  Blaine looked totally different and, like, five years older, but that was just - - he was taken by surprise, that's all. Now that he was looking right at him, he totally could see that Blaine was still just Blaine, still just Rachel's kid brother.  Just … well yeah, he was growing up a little.  No big deal.  Nothing wrong with that. Really. Why was it so hot in there all of a sudden?

Blaine ducked his head shyly.  He opened his mouth to say something else, when another Warbler dropped an arm around his shoulders.

“You order yet, Killer?"

Kurt surveyed the newcomer, who nodded in apparent recognition. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Kurt couldnt quite place him.

Nice beret, garçon,” the stranger smirked. “We'll both have an espresso. Black. With a shot of Courvoisier.”

Kurt arched an eyebrow. Is this guy for real?

Blaine cleared his throat.  “Sebastian, this is my good friend Kurt Hummel.  Kurt, this is Sebastian Smythe.  He's the captain of the Dalton Academy Warblers.  That's something you guys have in common … show choir, that is.  Kurt was in the McKinley New Directions last year, before he graduated.”  

Kurt remembered the face vaguely now,  from last years Regionals competition. Hed sung lead on both Warbler numbers.  But … somehow he thought that wasnt the only place he remembered  Sebastian from.  

“Yes.  We beat the Warblers at Regionals, and went on to win Nationals. I'd be glad to pass along some tips if you'd like,” Kurt snarked.

Kurt was mystified by his own rude words as soon as they escaped his mouth.  From the way Blaine was avoiding his eyes, Kurt supposed that Blaine was embarrassed, and the thought made him miserable.  Here he was, a college student, bragging about having won a high school competition, and he didn't even understand why.  

Sebastian seemed to sense the awkwardness, like a shark smelling blood in the water.  He followed up his advantage smoothly.  “Actually, it'd be more of a help if we could just get our coffees, Kurt.”

Kurt saw Althea watching. “Coming right up,” he said through gritted teeth, and headed back behind the counter.  

He pulled an espresso for Sebastian, minus the requested alcohol, and a decaf latte for Blaine, adding in his usual three shots of peppermint syrup.  Blaine had only recently started to patronize the shop, and his regular order was more dessert than coffee.  As Kurt worked, he kept an eye on the Warblers' table.  His hackles rose when he saw Sebastian leaning way, way too close to Blaine.  

That's when  it hit him.

The bored bouncer had barely looked at his atrociously bad fake ID, apparently accepting without question that his name was Darwin McHobbes and that he was forty-two years old.  While his classmates attended Senior Prom, here he was,  in Scandals, the only gay bar in Lima.  It was pretty disappointing, actually.  Tawdry and tacky and smelling of stale beer and desperation.  But even so, being here with other gay men, at last, was better than the heterosexual hoedown known as the McKinley High Senior Prom.  At least if he was elected for a second term as Prom Queen by his classmates, who were less than original in their cruelty and quite likely to do just that, it would be in absentia.    

He timidly watched the old drag queens and middle aged, overweight closet cases a while, when an enormous, hairy beefcake of a man in black leather chaps approached him and invited him to dance.  Terrified, he eked out a tiny ‘no thank you, sir'  before escaping to the bathroom.  

He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, eyes shut and gasping for breath.   It occurred to him that this might not be the smartest hiding place from unwanted attention, and he opened his eyes.  And was immediately confronted by the unwelcome sight of the boy he now knew as Sebastian Smythe, with his cargo pants around his ankles, and a man in a business suit kneeling in front of him.  

Seeing Kurt's dropped mouth, Sebastian laughed out loud.  “Hold that pose, Princess, but wait your turn. Unless you'd like to join us.”

Kurt shuddered at the memory.  This guy was trouble, he thought grimly.  Way too much trouble for little Blaine Anderson-Berry to hang around with, that was for sure.  He put the two drinks on a tray, and headed over to the Warblers' table.  As he approached, he saw Sebastian put his arm around Blaine again,  clearly coming on to Blaine like it was his job.  “This bashful schoolboy thing you've got going on? Super hot,” he purred with a wink.  You wanna come with me to Scandals tonight, sex-on-a-stick?”

Blaine blushed and leaned away slightly, but didn't push Sebastian's arm off his shoulders entirely.    “I – I don't know.  My dads would kill me if they found out I went to a bar.  And how could I even get in?”

“I'll take care of that, Gorgeous,” Sebastian sweet-talked him. “Just text me when everybody's asleep.  Sneak out and I'll be waiting outside in my car with your fake ID."  He picked Blaine's iPhone up from the table and began tapping his number into it with one hand, and rubbing his shoulder with the other.

Blaine looked intrigued and terrified in equal measure.  “I don't know if anybody will believe I'm seven years older, even with a fake ID,” he mumbled, his hands nervously fidgeting with the sugar packets on the table.

“They won't," Kurt snapped, bursting between them and slamming down the tray with a slosh. “Blaine, what are you thinking?”   Blaine's eyes goggled in guilty shock, but Kurt rounded on Sebastian before Blaine could respond.  “And what the hell are you thinking, taking a 14 year old to a bar?” He demanded.   “Are you insane?   He's just a kid.”

Sebastian just smirked dismissively, but Blaine looked deeply hurt at Kurt's words. Softening his tone, Kurt said, “Look, I don't mean it like that.  But …”  He cast around for a way to short-circuit this disaster in the making.  His eyes settled on a film poster taped to a pillar above Blaine's head. “I was hoping you'd join me instead.  There's a showing of Love Story tonight at the Lima Independent Theatre.  I think you'd like it.”  

Blaine nodded enthusiastically.  He was clearly grateful to have been rescued from that predator Sebastian, Kurt thought with approval.

“Great.  It starts at 7, so I can drive you home to change now, if you'd like.  My shift is over in five minutes.”

“I just need to pick up the check – it's on me today, guys -- then I'll meet you out front,” Blaine said, all eager smiles.  

“Thanks for the coffee, Blaine,” Sebastian said.  “Rain check on that date, though?” He looked insolently at Kurt, as if daring him to say something.   The Warblers watched the tense exchange between Sebastian and Kurt with open interest at the developing drama.

Blaine laughed nervously and flickered a glance toward Kurt.  He mumbled something noncommittal and backed off toward the register, where a long line had formed.  Kurt saw that Althea had gone in the back, probably to sign for a delivery.  His co-worker Dottie looked pleadingly at him for help, but he avoided her gaze.  He had to deal with this first.

When Blaine was out of earshot, Kurt turned to Sebastian, eyes fierce and protective.  “Let's get something straight, Smythe.”

“That'd be a first for either of us, but go ahead, Myrtle.”

“It's Kurt –“

“Whatever.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, and returned Sebastian's seemingly permanent smirk.  “Here's the deal, Old Navy.  I really dont care what you do with old married men in bars behind their wives' backs.  But that kid is off limits, got it?  He's fourteen years old. That makes him jailbait, and I'm serving notice right now: If you make the slightest move on him, I will tell his parents.  And they will have you arrested, so fast your head will spin.”

Trent, the Warbler Finn had nicknamed “Sassy” last year, howled delightedly, “Oh no!  He went there!”  The other Warblers started registering their disapproval of this disrespect of their captain, but Sebastian flicked his eyes at them, and in an instant, they were quelled.  He turned back to meet Kurt's level stare.

“So you're as much of a prude as I thought when we first met,” Sebastian taunted.  “And whatll the police charge me with, exactly?”

“Something called statutory rape.  You may have heard of it.”

Sebastian took a sip of espresso, frowning down at it before he set the cup back on the table and slid it away.  “Actually, I have, Grandma Killjoy.  My father is a State Attorney.  I make it my business to know exactly what-  and who - I can do, without anybody getting in trouble.  And for your information, it's not statutory rape unless one party is over eighteen and the other is under sixteen.”

He stood up, looking down his nose at Kurt, and continued in an entirely conversational, snide tone of voice,  “Unlike you, Betty White, I'm not quite ready for social security benefits.  I won't turn 18 for another three weeks.  Plenty of time to get into Blaine's tight little pants,  and thats someplace I'm extremely motivated to be.”  

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Kurt shouted, and the entire Lima Bean went silent.  He stood toe-to-toe with Sebastian as the Warblers stared transfixed, eyes widened over their coffee cups. He lowered his voice, and continued, “He's too special for you use and then throw away.  If I have to stick to him like a barnacle for the next three weeks, I will. I'll make sure you don't lay a hand on him.”

“I'll settle for laying something else on him,” Sebastian laughed.  

Kurt shook his head in disbelief and frustration.  Surely there had to be some kind of law against someone like Sebastian taking advantage of a fourteen-year-old kid, but Sebastian seemed so calm, so unworried about the law that maybe he was right about it.  That meant that Sebastian could do what he wanted for the next three weeks, and then dump Blaine afterwards.  

Sebastian continued to calmly taunt him.  “But what's this really about, gay-face?  Sour grapes?  You can't have him, so nobody else will either? Sorry, old-timer.  You just missed the cutoff, but that doesn't mean I have to back off.”

Kurt was running out of patience for this amoral jerk and his technicalities.   Blaine was vulnerable, and shouldn't be preyed upon by someone this much more experienced and with such bad intentions.  He burst out, “You're insane, you know that? I will make sure  you don't do anything to take advantage of Blaine, no matter what I have to do.  This is so on, Meerkat.”

“Sounds like fun, Keebler.  First point goes to you, but that's okay.  I'll win the long game, as they say.  I'll have Blaine, at least for a few pleasant encounters, and you'll just have your little green apron and your knitting to keep you busy.”  Sebastian was so smug, so sure of himself, that Kurt wanted to punch the arrogance right out of him, and his hands clenched reflexively.

Blaine returned from the register, putting away his wallet.  He glanced tentatively between Kurt and Sebastian.  “Everything okay?  Kurt, were you yelling at Sebast- -”

“It's fine,” Kurt cut him off short.  “Let's go.”  

“Bye, Blaine.  See you.  I hope.”  Sebastian said with a grin.  He gave Blaine a final once-over from behind as Blaine leaned over to get his jacket from where he'd draped it over a chair.  Kurt scowled and put an arm around Blaine's back protectively as he guided him out the door.  

A few minutes later, they were driving back to Blaine's house. Kurt tapped the steering wheel and stared ahead with a set jaw.  That Sebastian Smythe was unbelievable.  But attractive, and charming in a devil-may-care kind of way.  Just the sort of guy to lead an impressionable young kid into a lot of trouble.  When they stopped at a traffic  light, he noticed Blaine peering  timidly at him.  Blaine swerved his head to look out the window, before they could make eye contact, and nervously fingered the power controls on the door.

“You seemed kind of mad back there,” he commented softly as Kurt turned onto Blaine's street.  “What about?”

Kurt pulled into the Berrys' driveway and turned off the car.  He turned in the seat and looked at Blaine.  “Can I be frank?”

Blaine looked baffled, but he shrugged and nodded.

“This is none of my business whatsoever. But I'm going to make it my business, because I care about you, and I don't want to see you get used and hurt.” Blaine opened his mouth, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Kurt bit his lip and forged ahead.

“I know this is an awkward conversation, but I really think you need to hear it.  You're special, Blaine.  Please remember …”--he paused, taking a moment to channel his Dad-- “that you matter.  Don't throw yourself around with somebody like Sebastian.  He just wants one thing, and doesn't care about you or your feelings.  That kind of guy is a user, a taker, and you could end up hurt.”  Kurt leaned over, looking Blaine directly in the eye for emphasis.  “Don't rush into sex, please.  Wait for someone who will treat you like you deserve and take care of you, even if it takes a while.”

Blaine's face was scarlet, and he looked like he was about to hyperventilate by the end of Kurts long speech.  His hands were visibly shaking, but he managed a hoarse, “Okay, Kurt.  I'll … I'll wait, then?  If you … if you want me to?”

Kurt felt a little bad that he was embarrassing Blaine, but this was important.. He'd promised Rachel to keep an eye on Blaine, and he cared about him like a little brother.  “I do,” Kurt assured him.  “You won't regret it, I promise.”  Satisfied that Blaine had gotten the message, Kurt pulled off his seat belt with a click, and shoved open the door briskly.  He looked back at Blaine, who was still sitting, dazed and blinking, in the car. “C'mon, let's get going.  Run in and change. We just have time for a quick bite before the movie.”

Blaine's face lit up, and he nodded.  He jumped out of the car and broke into a run toward the house, pausing at the door to shoot a big smile and a tiny wave at Kurt.  Kurt chuckled softly and waved back as he leaned against the car.  He was so relieved that Blaine was a sensible kid and was listening to his sage advice.  

He really was the best gay mentor ever.