Chapter 7

Kurt was fucking high.

He knew it because he had given himself an extra couple grams, more than his usual where he could be high yet keep a level head. Eventually though he got tired of being careful and this one night he made up his mind it was the moment to indulge – he spiced up the weed with a hint of acid. He knew his head was in the clouds because with every step he took, the ground lurched up and doubled, the trees reached out with grabbing branches and the cars driving by sometimes lifted off the ground and flew. But he was running high on adrenaline and the combination was sending him to cloud nine and energy was bursting through his body till he was sure by the end of the night he would be fucking insane.

The hand he was pulling along was sweaty and constantly slipped from his palm, once or twice detaching from the body, but he gripped it tighter and they ran along. The blast of the sirens was his background music, the dirty, lone streets his setting and dodging between dark alleys and through run-down buildings with breakable locks was the current action at hand. He was the hero in the story, running away from the bad guys while he pulled the damsel in distress along behind him. The cold wind and the zooming cars and flitting stars were against him.

He made a sharp turn down a street and another up a steep, narrow hill overgrown with birch trees that almost touched each other on either side of the road. Kurt had no idea where the fuck they were but as long as he had power in his limbs and the damsel didn’t slow him down, he was willing to run as far as possible until the sirens disappeared.

“Halt! This is an order from the police!” the man shouted over the megaphone for the hundredth time. Kurt heard a bubble of laughter from behind him and knew the damsel was having the time of his life.

“If you do not desist then you will be held accountable to the law!”

Blindly they ran across the street. Kurt felt a jarring pain in his side when a car that appeared out of nowhere with no headlights stopped a moment too late and almost knocked him over. No worries. The high took care of that. The driver stuck his head out the window and his mouth ran with expletives.

“Suck my cock!” he screamed back and they kept on running.

Up ahead a tall building came into view. When they got closer he realized it was an apartment building. The fire escape on the side was their advantage. They ran into the alley, their feet sloshing in puddles and paused to take a breath in the darkness.  A screeching cat took off at a mad run.

Kurt crouched low and sprang up. His hands hooked on the metal ring that slithered and shifted beneath his fingers like smooth, silky ivory but he got an iron grip and using the little upper body strength he had, lifted his legs up and pulled with all his body weight. The ladder extended with a clang. He looked back to see Blaine sitting on a covered trash can, sweaty and red-eyed and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Let’s go,” he said and Blaine got up. He climbed the ladder, his feet sometimes missing a step but his hands were steady. The noise and clatter Blaine was making behind him was sure to wake up all the residents but now wasn’t the time to dwell on witnesses under the cover of night. The climb to the top was short as it was a two-story building. He passed three windows: one boarded up, another used to hang clothes out of to dry and the third was a woman sprawled on a couch smoking a cigarette.

When he got to the top, he walked over to the ventilation box and sat down so his back propped up on it. There was only one light but it was enough to brighten the area and keep them in the shadows. A moment later Blaine’s bushy head appeared and his wide, honey eyes looked around for Kurt. They found him, he smiled then both of them broke off into raucous laughter.

Blaine plopped down beside him and immediately his spine turned to jelly and he collapsed with his head on Blaine’s lap. He turned on his back to look up at the sky. The stars were there one moment, far, far away and the next right in front of his eyes that he could touch the illumination. Blaine’s heavy breathing came out in white puffs. The sound of the siren was gone completely now meaning they could return home. But honestly, Kurt would have stayed there the entire night if he could.

They sat like statues for a long time, neither of them talking or moving and barely blinking. The silence was comfortable and in addition to the sluggish feeling from the comedown Kurt was betting Blaine couldn’t move his lips either. Minutes later and Blaine’s hand was running through his hair. He would have opposed it greatly but recently he had been letting Blaine’s arbitrary habits slide. The touching, hugging, random kisses – all of it he took with a grain of salt. And because he ignored it, Blaine continued.

It had become a secret habit of theirs – stealing away to the park and smoking weed under the moonlight. For three weeks they continued and without a doubt, Blaine was hooked. By Kurt’s insistence, he had stopped with the twenty bottles of gel and wore his hair freely to school and when they met each other. He hadn’t returned to the bleachers because Kurt didn’t want them too openly involved just yet. Blaine was still new and Kurt already knew he and the Skanks were bad news. It would be a good thing to have one good person on their side. Unfortunately, Kurt hadn’t affected Blaine’s clothing just yet.

Once though, Blaine had come to school with a leather jacket, a light grey Henley and dark blue jeans. On his feet he wore beige moccasins. Kurt was a hundred percent, positively, completely certain that Blaine had caught everyone’s attention, girls and boys alike, with his abrupt closet change. With that soft, Italian hair, puppy eyes and a light grizzle that had seemed to grow overnight, Blaine had become a total lady-killer. Even Kurt died. When he confronted the boy about his style, Blaine had been extremely upset. There had been an accident with some bleach and his colored clothes – Kurt thought of it as more of a saving grace – and he couldn’t find his container of gel that morning. Add that to waking up to an unplugged alarm, all the other clothes he had requiring ironing that took time and care on the material, and having to get to first period for an important exam and Blaine had to borrow the “drab” clothes from his brother Cooper who had come to visit.

Blaine deeply suspected Cooper was behind all this and went into a full-out hypothesis of the 100 Reasons Why Cooper Anderson is Out to Get Him. Kurt had zoned out a quarter-way through the speech and inspected Blaine. Closer up he could see that the Henley was a size too big and the jeans were a bit slack but the jacket fitted him perfectly. The Armani trail he left behind turned heads. Blaine had transformed from a childish, cheeky boy to a walking Adonis. Kurt missed the way his ass printed out nicely through the extra tight pants he wore but he would take this sex god anytime, any day.

Blaine ended his speech and Kurt concluded it with a, “You’re fucking sexy.” It kept Blaine blushing for the rest of the day.

It only happened once. Never again.

Midway into the third week of their drug splurges, Kurt had begun to realize that the police paraded the block more often. He made note of the days – Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays – and on these days they would go behind Kurt’s apartment building (if there weren’t any hoodlums already in the spot) and smoke there. The fire escape was broken so the roof was off limits and Blaine’s house wasn’t anywhere close to an option. It was good for a while until the police pulled a dirty trick: they came on a Wednesday. This was how they ended up in this situation.

Blaine’s voice cut through his meditation. “What time is it?” His head must have cleared too because his words were coherent. Kurt patted his jeans and realized he didn’t have his phone.

“Shit, no phone.” He hoped he left it at home and didn’t lose it on the run.

Blaine frowned. The look on him was painful. Kurt reached up and with his index fingers, pushed the corner of Blaine’s mouth up into a smile. “It’s sometime past midnight. I’m sure your parents are still asleep.”

The brunette laughed a little. “I hope so.” Kurt decided it was time to leave. He rose up and instantly was met by a full-on collision of nausea and hunger and thirst all in one. His stomach couldn’t tell the difference between wanting to vomit or shit and his body was abnormally swaying. It was the last time trying weed and LSD for him even if it was an amazing adventure.

“Let’s go before the streets get any more dangerous,” he said. Kurt was accustomed to stomaching through pain but Blaine obviously wasn’t. He got up, wobbled and fell to his knees dry-heaving. Nothing came up but when he lifted his head there were tears in his eyes.

“Don’t worry. It’ll pass soon,” Kurt said even though he didn’t know how long ‘soon’ was. He helped him up and for five minutes they stood, trying to get reacquainted with the vertical position. When Blaine was sure he could walk without falling, they headed for the fire escape. The way down was easier and took so little time that Kurt wondered what his body was doing when they were coming up. He hopped to the ground and pushed the metal ring back up.

Kurt had no idea where the hell they were but he had a good sense of how much lefts and rights they took. He headed back the way they came and for a while they were walking on an empty road with dead grass on either sides and he had begun to panic because he couldn’t remember passing in this area before. But then they passed the wrecked truck on the right side of the road that Kurt had thought was a hulking giant about to rise up and grab them. He felt himself able to breathe. Somehow along the way they ended up holding hands again.

The hill came into view but the way back from there was a hazy cloud in his memory that took time to pick apart. They stopped on the apex so Kurt could think. He leaned back against the bark of a tree and bit his lip while Blaine stood with his hands in his pockets, kicking at the dirt. The bits and pieces came back to him until he could form a complete map in his head. He looked up and down the street before choosing the path.

They cut through a track overgrown with tall grass that scratched at his hands and came out on the other side on a street lined with shack houses and rusting cars parked in wooden garages. By random he chose to turn left and when he reached the end, he saw the glowing sign of a 7-Eleven. They entered the store, the bell tinkling as the door opened.

Neither of them had any money but Kurt wanted the time so Blaine would stop being so damn worried. The cashier was leaning on the counter trying to figure out a Sudoku puzzle with glasses on the tip of his nose and his finger drumming to MIKA’s We Are Golden. Kurt asked him the time and he told them it was minutes to two in the morning.

Kurt spun around and was going to give Blaine a pointed look but the brunette was looking at the snack aisle and mouthing the words to the song while bobbing his head. Kurt smiled and stared at him for a while, entranced by such a weird thing. Blaine noticed and looked up, embarrassed that he knew so much of the lyrics. Kurt grinned and walked over to him.

He leaned in close and put on his best British accent. “We are not what you think we are; we are golden. We are golden.” Blaine’s smile was radiant. He repeated the line as the lyrics did and Blaine backed him up with the rising background vocals a scale lower. They left the store singing the chorus.

Teenage dreams in a teenage circus

Running around like a clown on purpose

Who gives a damn about the family you come from?

No giving up when you’re young and you want some!

High spirits were buzzing and pumping through their bodies. They harmonized on the last line and Kurt was surprised at how perfectly their voices meshed.

Blaine took off with:

Running around again

Running for running

Kurt repeated each line after he sang it, a scale higher. Then Blaine started with the verse he didn’t get to sing. He was walking along backwards, singing to Kurt with these weird and cute little dance moves. His face reflected the vibrant mood of the song and he had a two-step in his walk. Kurt followed with his hands clasped behind him and a grin that he couldn’t wipe off his own face.

Blaine reached the bridge and Kurt tested out their voices again. Key for key, pitch for pitch, they harmonized perfectly.

Now I’m sitting alone

I’m finally looking around

Left here on my own

I’m gonna hurt myself

Maybe losing my mind

I’m still wondering why

Had to let the world let it bleed dry

Kurt pulled out his British accent again and then the chorus began where they went absolutely insane in the streets. There were no cars passing at this hour so they had the entire road to themselves. The vitality was contagious. They ended up directly on the white line blasting out the song at the top of their lungs and dancing a two-step jig that consisted of spontaneous hand movements and leg kicks. Power was flowing through his body. He no longer felt lethargic from the long run and even the sweat dripping down his forehead didn’t stop him. They sang with passion and zeal down the street and made an old man open his window to throw a pot cover at them. Kurt flipped the man the two fingers and they kept at it.

At the end of the street they were breathless. Kurt slumped down on the ground and Blaine was bent over a railing trying to catch his breath. There was a stitch in his side and he probably dislocated his thigh from doing that high kick but he was still smiling because this was the second time that Blaine had made time feel infinite and youth appear endless.

He slowly dragged his aching body up the wall and got himself in the mindset for the long four block walk to Blaine’s house. He had a mind of calling Quinn but honestly, he wanted to be alone with Blaine for a while longer since school really didn’t cut it. Blaine saw his movement and got up too with a wince.

“Sorry, I don’t exercise much,” Blaine said.

Kurt chuckled. “Could have fooled me.”

Blaine held out his hand to him and made Kurt stop to think what he should do with it. The gesture was honest and bold but Kurt wasn’t familiar with that. He held it and Blaine pulled his body closer so that they were mere inches apart. He buried his hand in Kurt’s hair and pulled his head back so their eyes met. He smelled like sweat and coffee; Kurt breathed it in. Blaine’s eyes were warm and desperate, unable to keep off his lips. It made Kurt hope his emotionless eyes showed the same thing or at least a fraction of it. Blaine’s grip tightened and then he angled his mouth over Kurt’s for their lips to touch lightly. Kurt took the cue and pushed forward and took Blaine’s bottom lip in his mouth. They kissed like that for a long time until Kurt’s impatience reached a point and he pushed his tongue into Blaine’s mouth to deepen the kiss. Blaine groaned when their tongues made contact and the grip on his hair was getting painful but Kurt welcomed the pleasure-pain because it made it even more real.

The length of the kiss was immeasurable but the desire was undeniable. Kurt wanted Blaine and Blaine wanted Kurt; simple as that. Kurt had dropped enough signs but either Blaine was confused or he didn’t know how to act on it. He wanted more but Blaine required patience – patience Kurt didn’t have. The Skanks were pressuring him because supplies had completely finished and withdrawal symptoms were starting to kick in, although they were vastly exaggerated. He needed Blaine’s help but it was hard to remember his mission when he was enjoying himself immensely. He had a plan.

Pulling Blaine he backed them up to the wall of the building then flipped them over so Kurt was pressing Blaine in. The hand in his hair fell and both hands went to his hips. Kurt placed his hands on Blaine’s chest and pulled away to trail warm kisses on his neck. Blaine tilted his head so Kurt could get a better angle. He licked and sucked, bit and nipped till Blaine’s neck was a mess of red splotches. His hands wandered down his chest, lower and lower then went around to the back to roam over Blaine’s ass. The brunette seemed to try to pull away so Kurt started kissing him again as a distraction. He squeezed and Blaine’s hips automatically thrust forward to grind on Kurt’s. He grinded back and felt Blaine’s erection. Blaine was shy at first but eventually they set an easy rhythm of rutting against each other. Kurt returned to Blaine’s neck so he could hear the soft moans escaping from his lips. Blaine’s hands were gripping the back of his shirt, his face flushed and lips parted slightly. Kurt loved that look. The heat increased and Blaine’s hips broke the rhythm to a rapid beat that signaled he was close. As soon as he reached the edge, Kurt pulled back wickedly.

Blaine’s eyes flew open and his eyebrows drew down in confusion. Kurt grinned but Blaine took the bait in the space of a heartbeat. He reached for Kurt’s hips and continued where they left off, his thrusts frenzied and frantic because he was that close. Kurt could feel it too and in a matter of seconds he was gripping Blaine’s biceps and biting into his shoulder to keep back his scream as he came in his pants. The pain on his hips from Blaine’s fingers was dulled by the climax and he felt Blaine’s shuddering body. His moan was soft, muffled by Kurt’s hoodie. His body was still twitching and it took one long, shaky exhale to stop the shivers. The come in his pants was warm but cooled too quickly to an uncomfortable, sticky mess. He needed to get home and change and he bet Blaine had the same thought. But right now…

Kurt pulled back and saw the content and satisfaction in Blaine’s eyes, the fulfillment in his lazy smile. He rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder until their breathing evened out. When he lifted his head, Blaine was the first to speak.

“Can we do that again?” he asked. Kurt laughed out loud and nodded.

“Anytime you want too,” he said, looking Blaine straight in the eye. Blaine’s lips parted but he didn’t say anything. He let a couple seconds pass before he leaned off Blaine’s body and started with his request. “We have a problem though.”

Blaine blinked several times before asking, “What?”

“I don’t have any more weed and the money I usually save to buy it I had to use to get some groceries.” He tried for an embarrassed, woe-is-me look by looking anywhere but at Blaine.

He fell for it. “That’s not good. How much do you need?” Kurt looked up and wasn’t expecting actual concern in those adorable brown eyes that looked surreally golden in the light.

He thought up a figure. “About three hundred dollars, but you really don’t have too. I’ll be able to get the money in about two months’ time.”

Blaine shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I really don’t want to go that long without weed.” He chuckled. “I’ll give you five hundred then. Is that enough?”

More than enough. “Blaine, no. Even two hundred is fine. You don’t need to-“

Blaine silenced him with a finger on his lip. “I’m giving you the five hundred whether you want me too or not. Think about it as stocking up.”

Kurt had to pinch his leg to stop from smiling. He was still pulling the pity act so he sighed heavily. “Would your parents mind?”

Blaine shrugged. “They could care less. Five hundred dollars is nothing to them.”

Kurt pouted. “How rich are you?” Blaine only smiled. “Let’s get you back home, then.”

He nodded and held out his hand for Kurt again but this time, Kurt was prepared. He took it without hesitation and they walked the five blocks, then a very much awake Quinn picked him up and dropped him home. He was grateful that she didn’t ask any questions but he would drop the news tomorrow. The five hundred dollars was stuffed deeply in his jeans’ pocket.