Remind Me to Forget
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Remind Me to Forget: Chapter 9


T - Words: 5,020 - Last Updated: May 29, 2017
Story: Closed - Chapters: 35/? - Created: Feb 24, 2014 - Updated: Feb 24, 2014
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Author's Notes:

Hey everyone! Thanks again for all the kudos and reads! :-) I hope all of you continue to enjoy the story (and Im still in awe at the sheer number of you!) and thanks in advance for your feedback. As always, thanks to my wonderful betas jessicamdawn, dlanadhz, and slayerkitty for checking for typos and calming my frazzled nerves ;-)

Remind Me to Forget

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

 

“We can totally have Artie spin around Blaine and then he can weave between us!”

 

 

 

Blaine absently picks at his the salad in front of him, only half listening to Sam's choreography suggestions. Cafeteria salads are never the epitome of healthy cuisine, but this one is dubious even from a distance. While the vegetables appear to be fresh, there's a rubbery quality to them that has Blaine questioning his choice.

 

 

 

“– like the weaving idea. I could just go across, right? What do you think, Blaine?”

 

 

 

Blaine raises his head at Artie's comment, blinking slowly and focusing. “Hm…what?”

 

 

 

“Still not feeling well?” Sam's question has Blaine wincing internally, remembering his excuse for being absence the day before; it was partially true, but more mental than physical illness.

 

 

 

“Not my best,” Blaine replies before turning to face Artie, “But yeah, you're the one who knows what's most comfortable for you; plus, weaving might be a bit much…”

 

 

 

Artie nods. “Thanks, man.” A pause, “Weaving isn't the best, but I could turn while going across the stage – do some loops, just not in between you guys.”

 

 

 

“I for one prefer that idea – sorry, Sam,” Unique adds with a small smile. “Artie's a great dancer, but having someone go in-between dancing couples just sounds like it wouldn't end well. No offence, Artie.”

 

 

 

“Hey, I agree. No problem.”

 

 

 

“Okay,” Sam draws out the word, looking around the table. “Since Blaine and Artie have the first two solos though, should Blaine even have a partner? I know he did when we practiced, but since Artie's gonna be doing his own thing...”

 

 

 

“You want to rearrange the whole routine?! Blaine, tell him he's crazy!”

 

 

 

Tina's sharp words have Blaine raising his head again, but it still takes him a moment to register the words.

 

 

 

“You sure you're okay? You look a little off, too.”

 

 

 

Blaine shakes his head and forces himself to not bring his hand to his face to check the makeup Kurt had hesitantly suggested he apply to cover the bruise. His drama classes have given him practice, but he still worries. Having to explain the bruise was not on his to-do list for the day.

 

 

 

“I'm fine; just a little tired.” Technically not a lie; Blaine's becoming an expert at skirting the truth, even if he's not proud of the skill. “Anyway, Tina…I think having Artie and me not have a partner might look nicer, and it wouldn't change the whole routine; we can keep the same steps, just have small groups of three, rather than two.”

 

 

 

Tina scowls and mumbles something under her breath as Marley speaks up. “So are we practicing the change today? I mean, I don't mind, really, we still have a few weeks before any performances, and a month before Nationals, but if we change it we should add it to rehearsal, instead of just focusing on vocals like we planned.”

 

 

 

“Good thing I brought tennis shoes.” Unique nods and reaches to steal a fry from Sam's plate. “I can practice in heels, but first rehearsals are better done in comfortable shoes.”

 

 

 

Blaine smiles and nods. “Blisters are nobody's friend.”

 

 

 

“Mm. I used to think cheerleading practice was the most painful thing I could do to my feet.” Kitty winces and continues, “Jumping in tennis shoes is tiring, but twirling around on stage in heels for ten minutes is worse.”

 

 

 

“Better not let Coach Sylvester hear you saying that,” Ryder adds with a shrug, “I'm pretty sure she'd add extra practices just to spite you.”

 

 

 

Kitty ducks her head and sighs. “You're probably right.”

 

 

 

Blaine smiles and then jolts, dropping his fork when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Lunch is for eating, Blaine

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

I should have known you have spies

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Never underestimate my level of power, Blaine

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

And if you really wanted a salad, the salad bar is better than any prepackaged one ;-)

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

This would be creepy if I didn't know you loved me

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

I do love you, which is why you're going to go get something edible. Get a pudding cup or some ice cream

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

I do love pudding :)

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

…dessert for lunch?

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

It's not like it's a regular thing. Besides, you're getting a healthy dinner ;)

 

 

 

Blaine huffs a laugh even as he looks around the lunch table. “I know Kurt can be terrifying, but spying guys? Really?” His friends look back with varying levels of embarrassment and confusion.

 

 

 

“I don't know about spying, but Kurt can be scary, man.”

 

 

 

“Sure Sam.” Blaine shakes his head as he stands from the table, still holding his phone.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

You trained your spies well.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

;)

 

 

 

-*-*-*-

 

 

 

Kurt takes his time putting his notebook and pencil case back in his bag. Around him, his classmates chatter as they exit the classroom in groups. Kurt, however, is in no hurry to return to the apartment where Santana and Rachel are continuing to snap at each other, and this late in the afternoon all the freshman rehearsal rooms will be in use, leaving him with only the library as an option if he stays on campus.

 

 

 

Kurt's sick of the library.

 

 

 

Sighing, Kurt closes his bag and stands, slowly making his way out of the now empty room. He absently rubs his eyes, hoping the pressure will relieve some of the ache brought on by tiredness. He wants to call Blaine, but there's Glee practice right now, so Kurt has to wait. In the hallway Kurt pauses: the exit to the right is closer to the subway, heading for home; to the left leads him back toward the city. Kurt puts in his ear buds and presses play on his iPod as he turns left – he'll stop by his favorite coffee shop, read there rather than at the loft.

 

 

 

He hums along to You and Me as he makes his way out of the building and onto the crowded sidewalk. Two songs later Kurt pulls out his ear buds and puts them in his pocket with his iPod as he enters the coffee shop, taking in the smell of coffee, different enough to not bring back traumatizing memories of his time as a barista.

 

 

 

He stands in line and then orders a mocha, idly gazing at the other customers while he waits. The couple in the corner is having some sort of argument – Kurt decides it's playful, based on their body language; the hipster on his laptop, pretending to type; Kurt's halfway through forming a story about the girl sitting alone by the window when his name is called.

 

 

 

Moments later he's seated at an empty table, steam rising from the mug in front of him. He pulls out some of his books and his notebook before digging through his bag for a pen. Finally finding one, he adds it to the collection of items on the table and pulls out his phone.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

[photo] Coffee and homework. At least the coffee is delicious – I can't wait to bring you here!

 

 

 

Setting his phone aside, Kurt sighs and picks up his book. Since Blaine hadn't gone to school the day before, Kurt had taken advantage of the fact and they had Skyped for hours. Unfortunately, now Kurt had to catch up on the reading he hadn't done the day before. He takes a sip of his coffee before pulling out his iPod; time to focus.

 

 

 

Hands land on his shoulders, and Kurt jumps, almost falling out of his chair with a sound he'll deny later.

 

 

 

“Sorry! I couldn't resist!” Kurt spins at Dani's voice, shooting her a glare, blinks when Elliott waves from where he's standing next to her. “We were walking by and saw you through the window.”

 

 

 

Kurt turns to look out the window and notes the darkened sky; he'd been reading for longer than he thought – no wonder his stomach was pleading with him.

 

 

 

“You don't mind if we join you?” Elliott gestures to the covered table, “We met for dinner to talk about the band. We were heading to the Guitar Emporium to look at music but Dani saw you and we thought we'd say hi.”

 

 

 

Kurt's already piling his books and papers, clearing space on the table. “It's no problem; a break would be awesome.” Kurt pauses and looks toward the counter. “But unlike you, I haven't had dinner, so I'm going to grab a sandwich.”

 

 

 

“Oh! Here!” Dani hands him a few crumpled bills. “Can you get me a muffin? Any flavor's fine.”

 

 

 

Kurt takes the money with a nod, moving to get in line as Elliott and Dani sit at the table. Minutes later he returns. “To match your hair,” Kurt comments with a smile as he slides a blueberry muffin and some change across to her.

 

 

 

Dani accepts the muffin with a laugh. “Nice, Kurt. Thanks.”

 

 

 

“So you two were talking about the band?” Kurt forcibly keeps his voice even, hiding his unease about the fact that two of his bandmates – the two ‘rockstar' members – had met to discuss the band without him.

 

 

 

“Mm.” Elliott nods and turns to Dani. “After we did I Believe in a Thing Called Love I was really feeling rock songs, so I asked Dani to meet up to brainstorm since next to me she has the most free time.”

 

 

 

“I was thinking some AC/DC or Bon Jovi –”

 

 

 

Runaway would be so amazing!” Elliott cuts into Dani's comment and continues, leaning forward in his excitement.

 

 

 

Kurt takes a bite of his sandwich.

 

 

 

Dani and Elliott continue to excitedly talk over songs that Kurt wouldn't choose for himself and his thoughts turn to Blaine. Despite their hours of conversation the day before, Kurt still has trouble wrapping his head around the events. He's known, logically, that he lucked out with his dad and Carole. It's a fact. But even when he's unnecessarily worried about his dad's reaction to his sexuality – he'd worried about his dad's thoughts, being judged, but it never even crossed his mind that his dad could hurt him.

 

 

 

“– not even listening.” A snap, and Kurt startles in his chair, meeting the gazes of Elliott and Dani.

 

 

 

“Sorry.” Kurt gives an apologetic smile. “Been a long day, you know?”

 

 

 

“Thinking about your fiancé?” At Kurt's questioning looking Dani continues with a shrug. “Santana said he's going through some things.”

 

 

 

Kurt feels his shoulders slump, sighs and quickly rubs his hands over eyes. Part of him is irritated at Santana, but it's a smaller part of him than he would have believed a year ago. Outside opinions and ideas help a person grow; college has taught him that if nothing else, and Elliott and Dani haven't met Blaine – they have their own histories, and no bias.

 

 

 

“Can I ask you guys a personal question? There's a reason I'm asking, and you don't have to answer, but…”

 

 

 

“I'm game.” Dani leans forward before Kurt has even finish his question. “Personal questions always have the best conversations.”

 

 

 

"How,” Kurt pauses, takes a sip of his drink, “How did your families react when you came out?”

 

 

 

Dani speaks first, breaking the brief silence. “There was yelling. Lots of yelling, actually. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call in a noise complaint since I'm pretty sure a Hellmouth formed in the basement that night.” Dani shrugs, so nonchalantly that Kurt can't tell if it's a practiced motion or an honest one. “I grabbed my guitar and some clothes and never looked back. I'm not a fan of yelling.”

 

 

 

“Never?” Kurt can't keep the shock out of his voice; he can't imagine just leaving his dad and Carole.

 

 

 

“Nope.” Dani pops to ‘p' of the word, seemingly at ease. “For all I know they could have had some kind of revelation and are now members of PFLAG. But I doubt it, and I can't say I'm worse off by having cut those ties.”

 

 

 

Kurt thinks over Dani's words, pushing away the initial shock and horror brought on by her story, despite its short description, and twists his ring. “Blaines parents never – they never really accepted him, you know? It was mostly just little comments, small things. But they both travel a lot, so it was just the elephant in the room for the few days they were home.” Kurt sees Elliott and Dani nod and calms his thoughts, forcing his voice to stay even when he continues. “He called me on Saturday. He – he could barely get a word out. His dad –” Kurt stops, slowly lets out a breath, focuses on the twist of the ring on his finger. “His dad hit him; Blaine fell back and hit a wall.”

 

 

 

“He's okay?” Elliott's voice rings with sincerity and Kurt offers him a small smile.

 

 

 

“He's got some bruises. He's actually staying with my parents right now; Dad and Carole already see him as family. But Blaine – he bottles things up, doesn't want to risk letting anyone down or worrying me. And I want to help him – more than anything, really – but I've never dealt with something like this. We Skyped all day yesterday, and the whole time I was afraid I'd say the wrong thing.”

 

 

 

“I'm sure you said all the right things.” Elliott's comment has Kurt meeting his gaze across the table. “It's obvious you love him; that's the best thing he can hear right now.”

 

 

 

“Yeah,” Dani agrees, snagging a chip from Kurt's plate. “After I left, things were hard for a while, but I used to dream about meeting that perfect girl who I'd know was always in my corner, you know?”

 

 

 

Kurt nods, remembering Blaine's heart-felt ‘thank-yous' and the gratitude expressed in every conversation. “He does know that. I just can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough, especially since I couldn't get on a plane…”

 

 

 

“You were still there for him. You said he called you, right?” Kurt nods at Elliott's question. “Then just focus on that; he called you. And you answered. That says a lot.”

 

 

 

Kurt gives Elliott a half-smile. “Any other words of wisdom? I don't want to monopolize your time, but you both have been so helpful and it's…a relief, getting decent advice in the city.”

 

 

 

“No problem,” Elliott says with a smile and a glance at Dani, “this is important.”

 

 

 

Kurt relaxes slightly in his chair and smiles, ready to listen.

 

 

 

 -*-*-*-

 

 

 

Blaine sits cross-legged on Kurt's old bed, papers and books spread out around him like debris from an impact as he works on his homework. Burt had taken him back to his parents' house the day before so he could grab the stuff he needed for school along with some clothes (not pajamas, because why fill his bag when Kurt's were more comfortable anyway?) and his much missed laptop.

 

 

 

Now, Blaine glares at his calculus book as he absently taps a rhythm with his pencil on his borrowed pajamas pants. Tina's notes helped some but the current homework assignment seemed to be making his headache worse, despite the Tylenol he'd taken earlier. He had completed his other homework first, hoping that putting off the calc problems would give his headache time to recede.

 

 

 

Of course, even after an hour and a half, the headache still pulses behind his eyes.

 

 

 

Blaine sighs and glances at his phone.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

Calculus and headaches don't mix well :(

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

I'm sorry :(

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

I'm guessing you already took some meds…take a break?

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

Yeah – and only 4 problems left. If I take a break I just won't finish them

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

You have 45 minutes and then I'm calling – you're more important than calc! :)

 

 

 

Blaine shakes his head with a smile and turns back to his book with a sigh, picking up his graphing calculator. An empty eraser and forty minutes later Blaine snaps the book shut, gathering the various papers and throwing it all in his bag. Moments later he's back on the bed, snatching his phone and dialing.

 

 

 

“Three minutes to spare; I'm impressed.” Kurt's teasing voice has Blaine smiling, unable to hold it in.

 

 

 

“You always give me the best incentives.”

 

 

 

“Well, I certainly try.” Blaine shuffles on the bed, leaning back against the pillows when Kurt continues. “So, school was okay?”

 

 

 

“Mm.” Blaine sighs. “It wasn't horrible, but Glee was exhausting. We're changing the choreography a bit – which made Tina…irritated – and it wasn't too much, but we danced for most of rehearsal.”

 

 

 

“Did,” Kurt pauses, “Did that go okay? You didn't push yourself too hard, right? You have to look after yourself, Blaine.”

 

 

 

“I'm okay, promise!” Blaine can hear the earnestness in his voice. “Just tired.”

 

 

 

“Well,” Kurt draws out the word, “Why don't we go to bed soon – we both need our sleep.”

 

 

 

“Soon, sure, but how are you?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I'm –” Kurt sighs. “I'm okay – it was just a long day. Dani and Elliott found me at the coffee shop earlier; we talked for a bit, but…”

 

 

 

“But what?” Blaine leans forward a bit, even though Kurt can't see him.

 

 

 

“They met up without me to talk about songs for the band.” Kurt's voice has an edge to it, a touch of stress. “Rock songs…that they thought about without me.”

 

 

 

“They met with you later though, Kurt. That has to count for something, right?”

 

 

 

“Not on purpose.” Kurt's voice has gone quiet. “Dani saw me through the window; if I hadn't been sitting there I wouldn't have known. They would have had their rock song planning session and I'd be none the wiser.”

 

 

 

“Kurt,” Blaine pauses, searching for words of comfort, “I think the point is that they did find you. I'm not –” Blaine cuts himself off, takes a breath. “I'm not saying that you shouldn't be upset that they talked without you, but they didn't hide it. And…maybe it's a good thing? They're so invested in the band that they're taking the time to think about songs for you guys to perform.”

 

 

 

“Maybe.” Kurt sighs. “Sorry. I don't mean to sound so paranoid; I'm just nervous, I guess.”

 

 

 

“You're not paranoid, Kurt.” At Kurt's slight laugh Blaine reconsiders. “Okay, maybe just a little, but it's nothing you have to apologize for; I like that you're so focused on your band. And it isyour band, so it makes sense that you'd be...concerned, when people talk about it without you. Still,” Blaine pauses and runs the fingers of his left hand over the comforter. “I don't think they meant anything malicious by it – they did include you, after all.”

 

 

 

“Mm. You're right, I know you are – I just don't like being excluded.”

 

 

 

“I know.” Blaine pauses, thinking back to the times in Glee when Kurt had been left out of gatherings simply because of his sexuality; he lets out a steady breath to release the residual anger from the past events. “Maybe…maybe you could talk to them about it? Try and set up band meetings outside of rehearsal?”

 

 

 

“Yes Blaine, because the first thing I want to do is show the new members the band my neurosis.” The teasing lilt takes any sting out of Kurt's words, and Blaine laughs.

 

 

 

“Okay, okay. Well then, I guess you'll just have to keep listening, then. And from what I've heard, Elliott and Dani seem like decent people, so I'm sure things will work out. Besides,” Blaine smiles and hopes Kurt can hear the truth of his next words. “You're amazing Kurt – they'd have to be idiots to not take full advantage of your talent.”

 

 

 

“And that's your completely unbiased opinion, of course.”

 

 

 

“Oh, I'm totally biased, but that doesn't make it any less true.”

 

 

 

“I'm going to ignore the fallacies in that statement and accept it as it was intended.”

 

 

 

Blaine lets out a small laugh. “You should. I meant it, you know.”

 

 

 

“I did get that impression.” Blaine can picture the smile on Kurt's face.

 

 

 

“Good.”

 

 

 

A brief pause of comfortable silence and then Blaine tries to hide his yawn. “I heard that, Blaine. It's late; we should be getting ready for bed.”

 

 

 

Blaine pushes down the irrational spike of apprehension at the thought of hanging up the phone. “Hm. I just need to brush my teeth.”

 

 

 

“Me too. So…five minutes?”

 

 

 

Blaine agrees and heads to the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth while focusing on the joy he feels from seeing his hair gel and toothpaste in Kurt's bathroom. Finishing, Blaine exits the room, turning off the overhead light and settles in Kurt's bed, moving the blankets and lying on his side before getting his phone from the nightstand.

 

 

 

“Kurt?”

 

 

 

There's rustling for a moment, “Hey. Sorry, just had to fix these blankets.”

 

 

 

Blaine laughs. “I did, too. Your comforter decided to be tricky.”

 

 

 

“Hm…sounds like they're out to get us.”

 

 

 

“I think we'll win.”

 

 

 

Kurt laughs and then proceeds to ask Blaine more about his day, pulling out Blaine's concerns about the rest of Glee seeing the make-up, his worry about the troublesome accompaniment to their second song for Nationals, his concern over Tina's increasing complaints about Glee – until he yawned.

 

 

 

“I think the day is catching up with us; we should sleep.” Kurt gives a tired laugh. “And yes, I know I said that earlier, but I mean it this time. We'll talk tomorrow, after all.”

 

 

 

“Mm,” Blaine agrees. “Night Kurt; sleep well.”

 

 

 

“You too – sweet dreams. I love you.”

 

 

 

“Love you too.” Blaine ends the call with a press of his finger, smiling until the picture fades.

 

 

 

-*-*-*-

 

 

 

Blaine wakens with a jolt; blankets twisting and his eyes searching for light in the dark grey of the silent room –

 

 

 

Laughter fades. Streaks of color and blaring sound before there's nothing. Blaine lays in silence, everything dark outside the radius of the streetlamp.

 

 

 

The house echoes in silence; in front of him, his father stares back with cold eyes. Blaine aches, needs to run, but he's trapped –

 

 

 

Hands hold him captive. Pain floods his body and he's falling –

 

 

 

His phone's harsh light stings his eyes, casts the room in a kaleidoscope of shadows.

 

 

 

Breathe in. It's in the past.

 

 

 

Breathe out. Just another nightmare.

 

 

 

Two tries to unlock his phone – 2:48 A.M. – and then his heartbeat calms at the sight of Kurt, happiness shining as brightly as the ring on his finger.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

Is it too late (early?) for NyQuil?

 

 

 

Blaine straightens the mess of blankets, pulls the comforter back from where it's half off the bed. The vibration of his phone has him scrambling to grab it even as he forces himself to calm.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Probably, and it might not help :(

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Do you have your iPod?

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

Yes?

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Get it. Put on our playlist, okay?

 

 

 

Ensconced back in the blankets moments later, iPod beside him and headphones softly playing, Blaine reaches again for his phone.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

I'm right here.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

I love you <3

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Love you too – forever. Sleep well

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Courage. <3

 

 

 

Blaine closes his eyes with a smile: he has the best fiancé who has the best ideas.

 

 

 

-*-*-*-

 

 

 

Carole finishes pouring her cup of coffee and turns when Burt enters the kitchen, smiling when he joins her at the counter.

 

 

 

“Good morning.”

 

 

 

“Hm.” Burt takes a sip of steaming coffee. “Morning.”

 

 

 

“If only your constituents knew that Congressman Burt Hummel isn't a morning person.”

 

 

 

Burt gives Carole a playful glare as he moves around the kitchen. “At least they would agree with me, I'm sure. I represent the people, after all.”

 

 

 

“Mm.” Carole smiles over the rim of her coffee cup. “And for those that are shocked?”

 

 

 

Burt half-heartedly shrugs while grabbing his toast. “Their choice; not like I agree with everyone.” Burt grimaces. “Some more than others.”

 

 

 

“Burt –” Carole takes a step forward and rests a hand on his shoulder.

 

 

 

“His mother left. I get that she's a bit clueless, but going on vacation after what happened? Not even a note.” Burt shakes his head. “I get his father,” Burt winces at the word, a bad taste in his mouth, “I get why he made himself scarce two days ago. But I just can't understand it, Carole.”

 

 

 

“I think,” Carole takes a breath, forces her voice steady. “This is something we can't understand.”

 

 

 

“The day I do you better sign me up for therapy.”

 

 

 

Carole sighs. “You start relating to those people and I'll worry for your mental health.” Carole steps back, takes a seat at the table in front of her oatmeal and Burt joins her moments later.

 

 

 

Blaine enters the kitchen with a slight smile and wave, and Carole holds in a sigh as she takes in the paleness of his skin (despite the slight sheen of makeup) and the shadows under his eyes.

 

 

 

“Good morning.” Blaine nods as he heads for the coffee pot. Moments later he's joined them at the table, copying Burt's breakfast of coffee and toast. This early in the morning, conversation is limited, generic questions about plans for the day and Burt's short trip to Washington in two weeks.

 

 

 

Still, Blaine manages to evade Burt's question about his sleep the night before, and Burt and Carole share a glance as Blaine pours coffee into a travel mug behind them. Moments later Blaine exits the kitchen with a wave, promising Burt he'll see him in the shop that afternoon.

 

 

 

“Kid doesn't know how to take it easy,” Burt's comments as the front door closes. “Don't worry,” Burt adds at Carole's look, “He's getting breaks whether he wants them or not.”

 

 

 

-*-*-*-

 

 

 

Blaine balances his coffee cup in his left hand as he straightens with his bag on his shoulder and attempts to shut his car door and lock it one handed. Shoving his keys in his pocket moments later, Blaine turns to find Sam walking toward him.

 

 

 

“Oh man.” Sam nods toward Blaine's mug. “I left my Monster at Ryder's house.”

 

 

 

Blaine scrunches his nose. “I still don't know how you drink that stuff.”

 

 

 

“I don't know how you drink that.” Sam shudders and points to the coffee. “That is disgusting. Monster though, it's amazing and –”

 

 

 

Blaine jumps, spilling some of his coffee (despite the lid) and not hearing the rest of Sam's comment as the screech of a car echoes throughout the lot.

 

 

 

“Whoa!” Sam's exclamation has Blaine turning, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as Sam continues to talk. “– okay? I guess someone had their caffeine.”

 

 

 

Blaine forces a laugh. “Fine, I'm fine. Just startled.” He smiles continues to nod as Sam starts recounting Ryder's disastrous attempt at dinner the night before. Minutes later they enter the school, the discordant sound of voices echoing in the hallway.

 

 

 

“You just let them get that goal! You didn't even fight the –”

 

 

 

Blaine jolts, lost in nightmares –

 

 

 

Homos couldn't even put up a fight and make it fun!” 

 

 

 

“– lost the game!”

 

 

 

“Blaine, you okay?” Blaine blinks, quickly turning his head to face Sam, seeing two jocks down the hall as he does so. “You're getting clumsy.”

 

 

 

Blaine bites back a sigh at the splash of coffee on his hand, the small puddle on the tile floor. “Apparently Wednesdays aren't my day.” Blaine gives a distracted smile. “I'm gonna head to the bathroom,” Blaine nods toward his hand, “wash this off.”

 

 

 

Entering the bathroom, Blaine hides his grimace at the sight of its occupants, the unknown underclassmen with limited fashion sense laughing with the occasional jock proudly wearing the unshapely letterman jacket. Sighing at the lack of privacy, he makes his way to the sink, carefully setting his cup (lines of spilt coffee visible down the side) on the rim before grabbing some paper towels.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

[photo] Clumsiness isn't good for coffee

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

And don't worry – I have no plans to drink any remnants after the cup's been in the bathroom

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

Oh no! :(

 

 

 

Blaine sighs and rinses off his hand before emptying the cup.

 

 

 

Text message from Blaine:

 

 

 

I really needed that coffee, too

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

:( I'm sorry.

 

 

 

Text message from Kurt:

 

 

 

I love you. <3

 

 

 

In spite of his now empty coffee cup and the tiredness biding in the back of his mind, Blaine smiles.

 

 

 

 


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