Warnings: rimming (not too detailed, but not vague either). Don't be shy about skipping it if you're not comfortable with that!

The Proper Way to Prepare For the Expected

If you want to prepare for the expected you should do the exact opposite of everything I do below. I hadn't prepared myself for shit, but I should have. I should have expected what would happen after we returned to Dalton. It should have been obvious...

We didn't start getting ready to leave until the next morning.

Kurt was one of those people who stocked the trunk of his car as if he was waiting for the zombie apocalypse to start at any given moment. He had towels, bottled water, clothing, a first-aid kit stocked with toothbrushes, combs, deodorant, hairspray—the list goes on, really. Some of the stuff was pretty useful and some of it, not so much—before we finally went to sleep the night before, we used the towels and bottled water the night before to clean ourselves of all the come we had splattered on each other, but I would be damned if I ate any of the dried vegetable chips he had, or dressed in any of his clothing (like he would have let me anyway).

The toothbrushes were put to good use. It was fucking freezing out, so we only cracked the window open enough to spit the unneeded toothpaste in our mouths onto the grass before rolling it back up and huddling close together for warmth.

We dressed each other.

Kurt was quiet as he zippered and then buttoned my pants. I busied myself with fixing his shirt, which was inside out. Once we got his shirt on, he helped me into my hoodie, taking a minute to kiss my lips once my head was all the way out, but not to pull the hood off my head. I pushed my arms into the sleeves and then pulled him back for a longer kiss, hoping to tell him that even though everything might not be okay, I wasn't going anywhere.

He pulled back before we could get lost in each other again.

The ride felt shorter going back. Kurt looked like he was ready to fall to pieces. I felt like an asshole for making him do something he obviously wasn't ready for, but I didn't see how we had any other choice.

When we got inside, Kurt headed straight for the stairs, his hand gripping mine tightly, refusing to let go. I knew that I should probably find Cooper and make sure that he was okay, but I couldn't make myself tell Kurt that he had to let me go. We had been together for a full 24 hours, but it didn't feel like it was enough. My edges were still too frayed and I needed more of him so that I could start to begin feeling normal again.

Carole's voice calling for Kurt at bottom of the stairs stopped us. "Kurt? Kurt, honey, I need you to come back down here. Everly's been awake for a few hours now and we all need to talk."

It was the last thing either of us wanted, but when Kurt turned around suddenly without a word, I followed him to where Carole led us into the living room.

It was a tense atmosphere there—worse than the night before. Kurt kept his eyes on the floor and stayed behind me for the most part. Burt sat in his chair looking as if he would rather be anywhere else—his expression went from angry to ashamed and back again. Santana took one look at me before she looked angrily away, leaving me completely confused. Even more confusing was Everly, who sat on the couch where she had been lying unconscious the night before and Logan who was as far away from Everly as she possibly could be, standing on the opposite side of the room with her arms folded protectively around herself. Finn was off in a corner, looking like an outsider who had been forced into a world that he didn't belong to.

Kurt held my hand tight. Neither of us moved to sit down.

Carole sighed. She looked tired, like she had been fighting battle after battle for days and was nearing the end of her ability to soldier on. "Okay. I'm just going to talk. This is what is going to happen: Brittany and Cooper are going to be staying here for as long as they need to. Santana is going to be staying here as well so she can be with Brittany. Everly will go back to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Kurt will go back to Dalton as planned and Blaine will go with him. Whether anyone likes it or not, Kurt and Blaine are toge—"

"No," Brittany whispered. "No, no, no, no, no…" Her face crumpled and tears started to fall. "I don't like it, I don't like it."

Santana immediately wrapped her arms around her and pulled Brittany to lay into her shoulder. "Shh, baby, shh. It's okay."

She whimpered and shifted around until she was practically in Bitches' lap. "It's that scary one. The one with the hand. I don't want it."

Carole walked over to the two of them and put a gentle hand on Brittany's arm.

"No, no, no, no."

"Oh, not again." Carole said softly. "You poor thing. Logan, go get her some warm water with lemon. That seemed to help last time."

"Last time?" I couldn't help asking.

"She's been like this all day," Carole explained when San stayed quiet. "The first time was pretty rough."

Santana took in a shaky breath as Brittany whimpered into her neck. "I'm sorry—I—She's been… getting worse. She's never been this bad, though."

Carole gave Santana a weak smile. "I'm sure it's just because she's in an unfamiliar place."

"Yeah," Santana said, but didn't look convinced.

I took a step closer, needing to know how I could help. "San…"

She stopped me without bothering to look at me. "Don't, Blaine."

Logan returned with a steaming mug in her hand. "Here," she said passing it to Santana.

Bitches took it and gave the shoulder Brittany was leaning on a gentle shake. "Britt-Britt… I want you to drink something for me."

Brittany shook her head, but pulled away from Santana's shoulder anyway. "I don't like the the hand," she whimpered.

Santana pushed the mug against Brittany's lips. "I know, baby, but drink this, okay?"

Everly watched it all with piercing eyes. "She needs professional care."

Logan's head whipped around so fast that it made my own neck feel stiff. "From who? SIIPA?"

Bitches pressed her lips into a thin line as Brittany drank with both hands wrapped around the mug. "I don't see how this is any of your concern," she said with a glare in Everly's direction and a gentle, soothing hand on Brittany's back.

Carole quickly jumped in with damage control. "Santana is doing very well with Brittany, Everly. She loves her, and that is more than we can say for any professional."

The damage control didn't work.

"It would be better if she didn't have to deal with this at all," Santana snapped in a deadly, biting tone that she reserved for whenever she was about to act like a real asshole.

I heard Kurt suck in a breath behind me.

"Watch it," I threatened.

"Watch what, Blaine? Watch the person I love fall apart more and more while your boy toy stands there and does nothing when he could make it all go away?"

"You can't ask him to do that!"

"Why the fuck not? You did!"

"Stop it!" Carole ordered and Santana and I shut up. "That's not helping anyone, and the both of you are hurting Kurt and Brittany more than you are each other."

Brittany had gone back to whimpering in Santana's shoulder and Kurt just looked sick.

"Listen," Carole continued. "A lot of trust has been broken in this family since yesterday. Obviously everything isn't going to get fixed today, it might not even be fixed next week, but it's not going to help if we all start shouting things at each other that we'll only regret later. Right now, what we all have to do is go on living our lives as normally as we can to avoid getting any unwanted attention. That means that everyone who has school tomorrow is going. Everyone who has work tomorrow is going."

"Can I go upstairs now?" Kurt asked almost the second the last word left Carole's lips.

Carole looked up at him with a sympathetic frown. "Of course, honey. You and Blaine should leave soon anyway."

He was out of the room before she stopped talking and she let out a sigh. She looked up at me. "Maybe you should go help him get his things together."

I didn't hesitate to do as she suggested. I was halfway up the stairs when Cooper stopped me.

"Blaine, wait up."

I stopped and looked back. As soon as our eyes locked, the unfair resentment came rushing back too fast for me to try to fight it off. I didn't know how to react to him. I kept thinking awful things and then reminding myself seconds later that it didn't matter what I thought around him anymore, which only made me think more awful things.

I don't know how to be your brother anymore.

Then, after the guilt was gone and the anger flared back up, an uglier thought: I kind of hate you right now.

That one made me wince even as it spurred on more thoughts. You knew what Kurt was going to do. Why didn't you stop him? Why did you let him make you into a person I don't know?

Why am I so angry that I got what I always wanted?

Why did Kurt have to lean on you when he was broken?

Cooper looked up at me with sad eyes. "We're not okay, are we?"

"No." Maybe there was a bit of the old me left after all.

"You going to tell me why?"

There were so many reasons.

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you're going to tell me or you don't know why?"

I glared at him. "You tell me."

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he shoved both hands into his pockets. That, at least, was familiar. "I'm still me, you know."

"Are you?"

"If you couldn't detect lies anymore, wouldn't you still be you?"

"No," I said too quickly. Then I changed it to, "Yes," and finally ended with, "I don't know." I scowled. "Wasn't that the whole point? To become someone different?"

He didn't answer that. "There's something else bothering you."

That surprised me. It must have shown on my face, because he let out a terse laugh.

"I don't have to read your mind to know what you're thinking, Blaine," he pointed out in a quiet voice.

I hadn't thought of that, but for some reason knowing it didn't do much in the way of making me feel any less like a dick. Obviously losing his ability hadn't changed the nature of our relationship in his eyes.

But why? What did he know that I didn't?

Our abilities are important, Blaine, but they don't define everything that we are, Kurt's phantom truth reminded me. I closed my eyes against it.

"I have to go check on Kurt," I said—my excuse to leave.

Cooper narrowed his eyes at me. "I'll go with you."

"Why?" I asked too harshly.

My borderline hostility didn't surprise him. "You know, I knew it bothered you when I helped him Friday night."

"What do you care? You don't even know him."

"I care because you care, dumbass. He's the person you love. I care about anyone you care about." He folded his arms across his chest, daring me to go against that bit of logic. "Plus there's also the fact that I'm straight, which, last time I checked, means that even if he wasn't jailbait, Kurt isn't my type."

I had known that he would say that. I also knew why my response would be, and I struggled to keep it locked inside where it belonged.

Don't say it.

If you say it, you'll sound like an idiot little kid.

Don't. Say. It.

"Yeah, but you could be his type," I grumbled, scowling at the ground. I'm so fucking stupid.

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, little brother. You're a hot piece of ass, and you know it."

I snorted as his truth changed 'hot piece of ass' into a more literal phrase. "If that isn't the most incestuous thing you've ever said…"

"Then I'm really not doing my job right," he said with a shit eating grin that fell away with a sigh. "Look, Blaine. If you had been there for him, he would have gone to you without a second thought. I'm not trying to be judgmental or anything, I'm just giving it to you the way it is. Trust me; you're the one he's looking at when he thinks no one else is watching. Not me."

"He does that?" I had to know. Not that he could have lied to me, but still.

"Yeah," Cooper said softly. "He does. And it's everything I ever wanted for you."

Hearing it made me feel less cold and confused inside.

"I'm going to go back to the living room," Cooper suddenly announced, getting my attention back on him and away from the lovesick, doped up place I had been settling into.

"No," I said. "I'm being an asshole. You can come with me."

But Cooper shook his head. "Nah. I'm not the one who Kurt needs to see right now. I should go see how San is doing anyway."

I sighed, remembering the cold stare she had sent my way when Kurt and I walked into the living room. "Everyone is pissed at someone."

"Hey. I'm not pissed at anyone. I'm not pissed at you. You're my little brother. No matter what, okay? If things are weird for you right now, I get it. When they stop being weird…" He shrugged. "It's not like you don't know where to find me."

Typical Cooper—always taking care of me, always running over with an emotional band-aide to slap on that dark side of myself that liked to try and knock me down.

But then, I wondered how he could have possibly been any other way. All he had ever had was me. Or, me and the voices in his head driving him insane.

I might have grown up to be a dick/man-whole, but at least I had friends.

Cooper never had any friends.

"Hey, Coop?"

He had already started back down that stairs and he stopped to look over his shoulder at me. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're out of there."

Emotion instantly welled up in his eyes, and I thought for a second that he might lose his calm façade and break down, but he managed to stamp it all back down with a carefree grin. "Hallelujahs, little brother," he said, closing his eyes and pushing a hand up in the air like he was praising Jesus or some shit like that. "Hallelujahs."

I rolled my eyes at him. "You're an idiot."

He cackled like a mental case and skipped down the rest of the stairs sing-songing, "You looooove me!"

I left Cooper to his insanity and continued up the stairs.

By the time I got to Kurt's room he had already changed his clothes and almost had everything packed. I helped him finish the little bit that was left.

As we made our way out of his room (I was carrying my backpack and two of the four bags he had packed), I wondered whether we were going to say anything to his family before we left. I got the impression that he felt bitter enough about everything that had happened to leave without a word. Either way I didn't really care what we did. Bitches was best left alone when she was pissed (not that I really wanted to see her after the way she attacked Kurt), and I had already said goodbye to Cooper. I wasn't concerned what anyone else, really. Except for maybe Carole, but she was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs when we turned the corner.

"We'll see you both on Friday," she said when we were both all the way down and then pulled Kurt into a tight hug.

"Your father loves you very much," she told him, and Kurt stiffened a little but didn't respond otherwise.

After she let go of Kurt, she hugged me. "Find a way to make him smile a couple times this week, okay?" she said quietly so Kurt wouldn't hear.

She didn't let me go until I nodded.

The ride back to Dalton was hell. Kurt had insisted that I drive, and as soon as we were in the car and out of the driveway, his entire demeanor changed. He seemed dead set on putting his mind off of everything that had happened that weekend, and he used me to do it. His lips and tongue hardly ever left my neck, and his hand was a constant pressure on my thigh as he teased me up and down my leg. More often than not for those two hours I was hard as a rock and half a second away from humping the damn steering wheel for some relief. I refused to pull over, though—the last thing I needed was to pull over on a crowded highway and get carted off to jail for public indecency.

Once we got back to Dalton, we went to Kurt's room to drop off the clothing store he had insisted on taking home with him. As soon as the bags were out of our hands, I had my mouth on his and was all but dragging him to the closest bed, which—thank god—happened to be Kurt's because as soon as the high wore off, I would have regretted having sex on Sebastian's cum soiled sheets. As it happened, though, we didn't make it to Kurt's bed either. He stopped me just before I could get close enough to shove him down on it.

"Shower," he managed to say around my tongue.

"We'll shower after," I tried to change his mind. "Can't wait anymore."

"Who said anything about waiting?"

"Oh, fuck yes," I said because sex in the shower was pretty much awesome, and the mental image of Kurt dripping wet and panting was already orgasm worthy, so the real thing would be ten times better.

It wasn't until I dropped my towel down on the bathroom floor that my skin started to really crawl and I decided that a shower was a pretty great idea, sex or no sex. Towels and bottled water only took a person so far, after all. I could only imagine how Kurt must have felt. He was way more into the whole keeping immaculately clean bit than I was.

I held my hand under the spray, waiting impatiently for the water to heat up. "Fuck, I feel disgusting."

Kurt hummed his agreement from behind me where he stood with his forehead resting between my shoulders. He had his arms wrapped around my waist and his bare chest was pressing hot against my back.

I had already pulled off all of my clothes, but Kurt still had his briefs on despite the fact that no one else was in there with us and I had locked the door to make sure it stayed that way—while I didn't really care whether or not we had an audience, I knew Kurt would.

"Shit. It's still kind of cold, but can we just… deal with it? I can't fucking take this anymore."

"Feeling disgusting or being naked with me?"

I nearly groaned. Then his tongue pressed against my spine and nearly was no longer an issue. "Fucking hell." I breathed through my mouth. "You're not even naked."

"I'm not?" he asked, voice husky, as his bare cock pressed between my ass cheeks.

"F-fuck." No one had ever been so close before. I was surprised to find I wanted him closer. Maybe even fully inside me. I wasn't sure, though. That wasn't something I had ever wanted to experience before.

It was too overwhelming to think about, so I spun around and shoved my tongue down his throat again, taking control of the situation.

He let me kiss him for about half a minute, before he took it back. With his hand firmly gripping my ass, he pulled me into stall. The lukewarm water felt like ice, and Kurt left me wanting when he took his mouth and body away to pull the shower curtain closed.

When he turned back towards me, he had his hand wrapped around his cock and his eyes went straight to my lips. My whole mouth went instantly dry as he stroked himself slowly and I wondered what had happened to my blushing virgin because it sure as shit wasn't kissing that he was thinking about while he was ogling my lips like that.

He crowded into my space, pushing me against the wall. I hissed at the feeling of the unforgiving tiles against my too hot skin. My hiss turned into a moan when his cock found mine, his hips rolling lazily. His mouth devoured mine for a few seconds before his hands were pressing on my shoulders, trying to move me down. I dropped onto my knees with a loud groan. I felt almost frantic—like everything depended on getting it now now now now and even that wouldn't be fast enough.

But there was too much. There was his cock right in front of my face, and his wet skin that seemed to go on for miles and miles, waiting to be touched. And then there was the fucking look in his eyes that made me want to give him whatever he wanted for the rest of our lives.

In the end, I wrapped my hands around as much if his hips as I could grab and leaned in close. I opened my mouth against the bit of skin on his stomach that I could still reach while on my knees and licked a long stripe across his abdomen—just because I could. His muscles jumped at the feel of my tongue on him and he moaned loud and long.

Then his hands were on my head, his fingers twisted in my wet hair as he tried to steer me towards his cock. I nearly broke then. My tongue ached at the sight of him, thick and flushed dark at the swollen tip, leaking steadily and begging for me to lap it up. I could fuck him with my mouth hard and fast and he would probably come right down my throat in less than a minute, but I knew wasn't what he needed. I saw the shadows in his eyes that he wanted me to chase away—the way he had chased mine away for me the day before.

I knew that the sooner this was over, the sooner his mind would go back to whirling with everything that had happened. Now now now now would have to wait.

"Blaine," he whined above me, pushing his hips forward, pushing the tip of his cock insistently against my lips. "Please."

"Jesus." I shuddered at the words and, without really thinking, my lips wrapped around just the head and I sucked hard, tasting him like I wanted to. Like I fucking needed to.

Kurt gasped above me, high pitched and fucking hot as hell. He tried to push farther into my mouth, and as much as I would have loved to let him fuck my face until I couldn't breathe, I pulled off and shut my lips up tight.

Kurt let out a frustrated noise.

"Not yet, baby," I told him. I looked up at his pleading eyes. "I want to do something else with you first. Something we haven't done yet. Let me?"

"Do it."

I kissed his hip. "Turn around, gorgeous, and I will."

He did it without hesitation, panting. I grabbed hold of his ankle and pulled gently. "Up," I said, and he turned his head to give me a slightly nervous look, but lifted his leg and allowed me to direct him until he had his knee resting on the empty soap tray that was built into the corner of the stall.

When he was finally arranged the way I wanted him, I allowed myself to look, and the sight of him all spread out and exposed for me went straight to my already throbbing cock. "Holy fuck, gorgeous."

Kurt looked back at me from his spot where he was huddled against the wall, his eyes wider than anything, and his face an angry embarrassed red.

I really had no chance of stopping myself from nipping him gently on one of those firm cream- colored globes.

"Ah!" he hissed and it was like music to my goddamn ears.

"You're gonna taste so fucking good," I moaned because I knew the words would crawl right under his skin and twist his insides.

His entire body jerked at my prediction and his face got even redder. He looked absolutely wrecked shy by it with his hands curled into fists against the white tiles, his hips spasming every few seconds so that his cock bumped against the cold ceramic. Basically, he looked too erotic to be allowed. He looked fucking forbidden. He looked beautiful.

It was too much and my control broke. I ached with urgency as I leaned forward, letting my lips fall open without a fight.

"What are y—ohhhhh… fuuuuck, Blaine. Blaine. Again. Do it again. Yes. Don't stop."

I had no plans of stopping. Kurt was just about fucking himself against the wall at that point. He seemed torn between moving his hips forwards to rub against the cold tiles and rocking them back to press himself more firmly against my tongue.

I had to fist the base of my cock and squeeze to stop myself from losing it completely. I focused instead on spreading him open with my tongue. Above me, Kurt was moaning like it was his birthright and he sounded fucking delicious.

When I pushed my tongue inside him as far as I could, Kurt hiked his leg higher and grabbed his own ass, spreading himself wider. "More," he gasped in a choked up voice.

'More' had always been the plan, and I figured he was wet enough by then, so I slowly worked my middle finger inside of him alongside my tongue. Lube would have done the trick better, of course, so it was still a little abrasive, but Kurt didn't seem to mind. All it took was two gentle but insistent brushes against his prostate and he was coming all over the shower wall. I used my free hand to turn him around enough that I could wrap my mouth around him for the last bit of it, groaning as he shot what was left into my mouth.

His cock slipped out of my mouth when he fell against me, spent and breathing hard. His chest was flushed in that glorious red-dusted way that made me want to lick him all over to see just how red he could get. I didn't, though. He was in his own headspace and I sat there and soothed him through it with my hands running up and down his spine as he taught himself how to breathe again, his cheek pressed against mine and his lips were on my neck, open and wet but not moving.

After a while, his hands settled on my thighs and gently squeezed. "Blaine," he whispered into my skin. "Can I?"

I shifted so that I was sitting rather than kneeling, my back against the wall. "Okay."

He sucked me slow, his head bobbing up and down carefully as he taught himself a bit more about how to make me come with his tongue and his lips. That time his jaw didn't get tired because it didn't take me long. I was so wound up from watching him fall to pieces that I was quick to do the same—about fifteen seconds of stimulation and I was shooting off into his mouth. I warned him when it was about to happen, but he seemed to get caught off guard by it anyway. He swallowed messily, not catching it all, but fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things I had ever seen.

When he pulled off, he licked his lips with a slight frown on his face like he was considering something.

I couldn't stop myself from grinning just a little at how goddamn cute it looked. "What?"

"I don't know." Yours tastes different from mine.

I couldn't help it—my eyes bugged out at that. "You've tasted your own cum?"

His cheeks went a little red, giving me my answer, and my brain was instantly flooded with imagines images of him tentatively licking his own cum-soaked hand and then considering the taste, that same adorable, considering look on his face.

"S-shit, Kurt," I muttered, closing my eyes. "It's like you're actually trying to kill me." I opened my eyes to trail them down his glistening body. "Keep talking like that and I'll press you up against the wall again."

The flush on his chest got darker. "I can't believe you licked—" he couldn't say it, but his eyes got dark despite the slight uncertainty there.

"Did you like it?"

He responded with a tentative 'no' which, of course, his truth corrected with the opposite.

"Then who cares what I licked? You liked it. I liked it. That's all that matters. Making each other feel good is all that matters, okay? We didn't do anything wrong."

"Okay."

"We should probably get out of here."

Instead of answering, Kurt leaned towards the curtain and pushed his arm through, searching blindly for something. I held him with my arms around his waist so he wouldn't topple over until he pulled his arm back in. He passed me the cucumber body wash that he had in his hand. It didn't escape my notice that he had left my unscented bar of soap where it was encased in a zip lock bag sitting on top of my towel.

"What's wrong with my soap?" I asked and received the exact look you're probably imagining in your head right now. "Damn, okay, okay. I got it. Girly smelling liquid soap, good; practical unscented bar soap, bad."

His eyes narrowed at me. "Are you comparing me to a girl?"

I grabbed hold of his mostly soft cock and tugged on it gently, smirking when he moaned a little. "What do you think, gorgeous?"

He shot me a fuck you with his eyes and batted my hands away before he proceeded to wash himself. I sat back and watched. He lifted an eyebrow at me, but didn't question it.

Slowly, I stood up. Without breaking our stare, I caught his wrist. His skin was the softest skin I had ever touched. It felt better than velvet and I loved it. I loved him. I loved the way he looked at me and the way we finally understood each other. "You know, you really are gorgeous," I told him softly.

"A-Am I?" he asked, and his voice shook.

I nodded slowly. "Uh-huh." I leaned in a kissed him once. "Not just that, though. You're everything."

He pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. "How can one person be everything?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. You manage it somehow, though."

His arms twisted around me and he held me tight. "I wish I could say how…" Of course, he couldn't finish that statement, but I understood it.

"You don't have to say anything. I know how you feel."

"But won't you want to hear it? Don't you want that?"

I shook my head. "I don't need it." I curled myself closer. "This is what I want."

I felt his smile and then his kiss against my neck.

"I thought you wanted to get out of here," I teased him and was rewarded with a job to the left side.

While I pouted, he poured some soap into my palm. I didn't make a big production of it—I scrubbed my hands over my skin, Kurt ran some shampoo and conditioner through our hair and then we were out.

We got dressed and things started to feel almost normal again. Dalton was a great place to go when you wanted to forget. It was ostentatious and beautiful. It made you forget that the real world was outside, waiting. Better than all that, though, were Kurt's eyes. The shadows were barely visible by then and he looked happy. I wrapped myself around him and was content to pretend.

I would have liked to wake up in Kurt's arms the next day and then kiss him awake. I would have liked to argue with him about whether we had enough time to mess around before we had to get out of his bed. I would have liked to walk to class with his hand in mine and kiss him senseless in the hallway where everyone could see, just to make him blush. I would have liked to eat lunch with him in the lounge and listen to him complain about how Dalton was robbing its students of their creativity by forcing them to adhere to a dress code that only Peter Parker would appreciate. I would have argued that I looked hot as shit in my blazer (thanks for noticing, gorgeous), and he would have rolled his eyes, but kissed me anyway—and if I hadn't been able to convince him to fuck around with me that morning, then I would convince him to do it then, quick, hard, and fast before we had to get back to class.

We would go to warblers practice and Kurt would sing and take away my ability to breathe normally. Wes would praise the musical gods for sending him Kurt in our hour of need, and Sebastian would sneer like the bent prick that he was, and I would reply with some witty insult designed to put him in his place (use your imagination because I don't feel like using mine).

What I'm getting at here is that it would have made me happier than a hipster decked out in grandpa's thick-rimmed glasses to have one goddamn day where fate didn't drop down from its perch on the You Suck tree and punch me in the throat.

As it was, I woke up that Monday morning wrapped up in Kurt to find my father's eyes blazing down at me in abject disgust.