Chapter 4: Keep On Dreaming

Cause are you such a dreamer?
Put yourself in my shoes
Careful what you wish for, Love
What's the matter with our ways
I'm missing something not to blame
But don't you worry, this will pass
It's only cause my mind's been spinning
No control, I've lost my head
All of it is just beginning
Not enough, never enough
I only wanna keep on dreaming
-Dreamer by Uh Huh Her

Kurt was storming down the hallway by the end of the school day, furious and not caring who he had to shove out of his way as he went. This morning had been a perfectly good fall morning- hisfavoritekind of fall morning- and he couldn't believe what it had all crumbled into. All because yet another stupid jock insisted on making his life one of constant misery. He scoffed and his shook his head. And they had sworn this school would be different...

But there was something Kurt had to admit, even though it frustrated him to do it. Blainewasn'tmaking his life turning his life into one of constant misery. It was true he had tossed a homophobic slur or two Kurt's way, but they weren't even that bad, and Kurt himself had to acquiesce that he was the one who had provoked Blaine into doing that. Up until then he had seemed like a nice guy, he had even asked about Kurt's stepmom, kindly. He'd been the first person to really do that. And Kurt couldn't help but acknowledge that looking into his eyes for that brief moment during their fight had been...well, it had been nice. The kid had nice eyes. So what?

But Kurt knew what the problem with that was and he was pissed at himself. He found the jock attractive. He had realized it the second he entered their little circle under the bleachers, which is why he had done his best to ignore him as much as possible. Better to stay away. But it wasn't easy. Blaine had seemed so nice, talking to Puck the way he did, not really saying an unkind word to anyone. Kurt had been sad when he walked away. And so he chased after him. Now that had been truly foolish. Kurt wouldn't let it happen again. He remembered all too well what had happened last time he had let his dick control his actions like this.

Except now he was truly in a bind. Baiting Blaine at lunch like that had been stupid, had caused that whole ridiculous fight and now all Kurt could think about was the way Blaine had felt, breathing heavily on top of him, staring into his eyes with those green-amber ones, framed heavily by dark, thick lashes which Kurt couldn't help but want to feel brushing against his skin.

For Christ's sake Hummel, stop writing fucking sonnets about the kid and snap your head back on properly, Kurt inwardly chastised himself. This supposed "sexual tension" or whatever was something Kurt could easily deal with, as he was certain it was unreciprocated by Blaine. But there was the issue of being forced now to spend extra time together outside of school.Alone time.Kurt had no idea what this ridiculous community service project would end up being but he did know for sure that he did not want work on it with Blaine Anderson. One day of interacting with him had been more than enough to last him a lifetime. Blaine was danger walking, all wrapped up as he was in form-fitting dark jeans and a navy-striped V-neck that accentuated his pectoral muscles as well as his biceps, not to mention thathair.Hair that curly and tantalizing should be outlawed.

Goddamnit Kurt!He thought as he caught himself drifting off on thoughts of the boy once again. He punched himself lightly in the arm. He couldn't help wondering though if Blaine would actually search around and find his number, if he should maybe be expecting a call this afternoon from that smooth, polite voice. Kurt loved the control that existed in Blaine's voice at almost all times. It was such a turn on, to imagine what he would sound like when he got flustered, aroused maybe. When he had been yelling earlier this afternoon in Figgins' office, Kurt had felt shivers go down his spine at the sheer recklessness in the calm boy's voice. He hoped Blaine might call. He'd like to hear that voice on the phone, talking tohim.

"Snap out of it Ladyface." Santana had come up behind him while he was ensconced in his thoughts, jolting him out of his inappropriate reverie once more.

"Daydreaming about Anderson are we?"

It was the end of the school day and Kurt had absent-mindedly made his way to the music room, and was sitting at the piano, his elbows resting on his knees, chin in hands.

He snorted at Santana's comment. "Yeah, I've really got a thing for the whole curly-haired "hobbit" look, ya know?

Santana cackled, "You can't lie to me Hummel. I've known Anderson for a little while now and while he might not be Brad Pitt, you can't deny he's good-looking." She licked her lips appreciatively at the thought. "Plus," she leaned down to whisper right behind Kurt's ear, "I can spot the slightest spark of chemistry from a mile away and the chemistry going on between the two of you was much closer than that- and it wassizzling." She hissed the last word, sending a slight shiver down Kurt's neck and through his spine. He jerked his shoulders as if he could physically shake off the effect her words had had on him.

"Because I'd really call me having to defend myself against the lunchroom attack of some homophobic jock 'chemistry'," Kurt retorted sarcastically, hoping his tone was more convincing than the hair standing up on the back of his neck.

"Whatever you have to tell yourself Hummel," Santana said flippantly, twirling around to walk away.

But then-

"But you know you want it. And by the looks of things, so does he," she whispered and swept out of the music room.

"Ugh," Kurt groaned, laying back across the piano bench in frustration. He closed his eyes and wished this whole situation would end. Nothing pissed him off more than feeling like he didn't have control of things.

He heard the door to the music room creak open again and yelled, "Piss off Santana!" without opening his eyes. But Santana's voice didn't come in response.

"It's Blaine."

And it was. Perfect Blaine. Blaine, whose voice somehow managed to fill the entire room with a mere couple of words. Blaine, whose presence was physically warming, like tea on a stormy day, or sunshine after a long, hard winter. Blaine-

Kurt jolted and nearly fell off the bench as a result.

"Jesus fuck Anderson. Way to fucking scare a person shitless. I could've broken my neck just now. God."

Blaine looked sheepish, standing a couple yards away from Kurt, tugging absentmindedly on the sleeves of his t-shirt. "Sorry."

"Yeah well next time, maybe think a second before you decide to interrupt somebody's private time. I don't know if anybody ever told you, but it's rude."

"Uhm yeah. I didn't have much...in the way of manners teaching or anything. My mom..."

"Hold up Curly-Q." Kurt sat up on the bench, facing Blaine, his elbows nonchalantly propped on the wooden key lid behind him. "Let me stop you before you waste more of your precious breath and both yours and my time by making something clear to you right now, which is thatI don't careabout your little family problems. Not your mommy issues or your daddy issues- or really, any ofyourissues. Got it?"

Blaine nodded without saying anything and for a moment, Kurt almost felt bad for the speech he had just delivered. But only for a moment. Blaine spoke then,

"Dude we really need to talk though. About this community service thing."

"Yeah." Kurt frowned. "I thought I told you to get my number. How did you even know I was in here anyway?"

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't."

"So what is this like your secret hang-out or something?"

"No. I just...you know what, never mind. I found you regardless. Let's just get this over with."

"Fine." Kurt closed his eyes again, inhaling deeply. He could smell Blaine's cologne all the way from where he was standing. Just a hint of it. God. So masculine. It was intoxicating.

When he opened his eyes, Blaine was staring at him in a strange manner, a slightly confused expression painting his features.

"You really need to get a grip on that staring habit you have."

"Kurt," Blaine looked uncomfortable. Kurt noted that this was the first time he recalled ever having heard his name come from Blaine's lips. It was a delicious sound.

"I wanted to- just before we get started on this- apologize for jumping on you earlier. I really hope you don't think I'm homophobic. Honestly, it had nothing to do with that. I've just been stressed out lately and things were getting to me. But I don't really care that you- you're-"

"Gay," Kurt finished for him. "Oh I know you don't care." Kurt had a glint in his eyes which made Blaine shift even more. Kurt was just toying with him but the reactions he was getting were much more interesting than he expected.

"Hey, Man, I'm not sayingI'mgay. I've got a girlfriend. We talked about this. I just want you to know you don't have to- I mean I'm not- I'm not like those other bigots. I'm not ignorant."

"Oh really? You think that just because you've maybe talked to a nice gay guy in line at the grocery store once, or because you occasionally catch an episode ofEllenon TV, that means you're notignorant?Let me tell you somethingBlaine." He had stood up now and walked over to where the shorter boy was standing so that he could look him in the eye. "Until you've been shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters, and literally had the will to live beaten out of you, you're ignorant. You haveno ideawhat I go through every day. So don't pretend that you have any fucking clue." He was close to tears now and furious with himself.

Blaine was simply staring back at him with an expression in his gorgeous hazel eyes that Kurt couldn't- and didn't really want to- read. It was probably pity. That made Kurt even more furious. The last thing he wanted was this boy's pity.

He moved to storm out when Blaine caught him by the arm.

"Kurt, I'm sorry."

"Let me go."

"No you're going to listen to me," Blaine said with an authority Kurt had never heard before. He was taken aback, and a little bit turned on. He froze, meeting Blaine's gaze warily, feeling the burning of his fingers around his forearm so strongly it was as though that were the only part of his body that still existed.

"Look, you're right, I can't pretend to know what you go through every day. And I'm sorry I was so flippant about it earlier. But I do know what it's like...to have people look down on you, judge you, maybe even hate you. But you can't let that shit make you bitter Kurt. If you let it, it will get into your insides and infect you like a cancer and by the time you realize what it's done to you, it'll be too late."

Kurt was staring at Blaine, only half hearing the words he was saying. He felt his arm, felt the pure strength of it, saw the dark hairs that coated the olive-colored skin and- a watch. A verynicewatch.

"That's an Emporio Armani," he said before he realized what he was doing.

"What?"

"Your watch." Kurt, for some reason, was breathless. "It's an Emporio Armani. Oh God, I've never seen one in person before. Just look at the skeleton detailing...it's beautiful."

Blaine blushed and Kurt could've cried, it was so adorable. "Uh thanks," he said embarrassedly. "It was a Christmas present from my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend must be rich."

"Yeah. She comes from what my mom calls 'good money'," Blaine admitted with more than a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Is that why you're dating her?"

Blaine stared at him in shock. "No- well- I mean- no...not...no."

Kurt laughed, the intensity of the past two minutes dissipating immediately. "Well you certainly sound sure of yourself. Look it Curly-Q, would it be easier for you if I just handed you my number myself since you seem incapable of getting it on your own and this conversation is going nowhere productive fast?"

Blaine just nodded, speechless.

Kurt laughed again, grabbing hold of the other boy's arm again and pulling out a sharpie. He wrote his phone number on the inside of Blaine's forearm in neat, elegant numbers, marveling at the smoothness of the skin as he did so. So soft. Kurt couldn't help but wonder what that arm would feel like as it grazed his cheek while those fingers ran through his hair, how it would feel wrapped around his waist, pulling Kurt's body flush against Blaine's...

"There," He said, dropping Blaine's arm suddenly, as though it had stung him. "I wrote it in permanent marker so everyone will see you've been marked by a faggot." He went back to the piano and grabbed his book bag, slinging it casually over his shoulder and sent Blaine a playful wink. "I hope your girlfriend's not the jealous type."

It seemed once again he had left Blaine with nothing to say when, just as Kurt had reached the door of the music room, Blaine said his name again. Kurt stopped for a moment with his back still turned to Blaine, letting the sound of his name coming from Blaine's mouth wash over him for a moment before turning around expectantly.

"You tricked me."

"Excuse me?"

"Earlier. In the cafeteria. When I had you pinned, you had this look in your eyes that caught me off guard and all along it was just a trick to distract me so you could get the upper hand."

Kurt shrugged, a half-smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry Curly-Q. I can't help it if people have a tendency to get lost in my eyes." He turned again and left, nearly skipping once the door closed behind him, because Blaine Anderson had just basically admitted that he had gotten distracted by Kurt's eyes earlier.

Maybe the guy wasn't so straight after all. Kurt could dream anyway. Dreams had been getting him by for years now. What was one more?

As long as he didn't let the fantasy get out of hand.