“You got a light?” The voice is warm in the cold night, appearing behind Kurt and whispering against his neck. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his lighter, turning and facing the boy behind him.

“You have to work her to get a flame, I need a refill.” He has a hood pulled over loose curls and cups his hand around a cigarette.

“Story of my life.” They share a laugh as he gets a flicker of a flame and sucks in a lungful of smoke. “I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt.” He replies and puts his lighter back in his pocket, a smile dusting the edge of his lips.

“How come such a pretty boy like you is alone?” Blaine leans against the wall and exhales a dribble of smoke.

“My best friend fucked off to make out with some guy I’ve never met before, you know, fairly standard party expectations.” Kurt leans next to Blaine and scratches idly at his black nail varnish.

“It’s a nice night.”

“Are you high or something because it’s freezing?” Kurt replies and glances across to Blaine who ducks his head and laughs.

“I’m shit at small talk, my Mom always thought I was autistic when I was little because I wouldn’t even attempt small talk and really liked trains, her concern was understandable because I had a shit tonne of trains and only drew trains and only held a conversation if it involved trains.” Kurt laughs and shakes his head. “I’m doing that thing where I talk too much again.”

“It’s cute.” Kurt smiles and Blaine pushes his hood down.
“Well if you think that’s cute then you’re in luck because I do that often so…” Blaine tilts his head back and lets the cigarette dangle between his lips.

“What school are you at?” Kurt asks and shifts himself a tiny bit closer.

“Dalton but I’m transferring to McKinley in a couple of weeks.”

“Firstly you just earned the nickname prep school, secondly I think we just turned into Troy and Gabriella.”

“Why…” Blaine raises an eyebrow sceptically.

“I’m assuming, considering the fact you are both gay and around 17 that you have watched all the High school Musicals and had a crush on Zefron, correct?” Kurt flicks ash onto the grass with an exaggerated twist of his wrist.

“You would be correct.”

“So you know that Troy and Gabriella meet at a ski lodge and fall in nice, wholesome, Christian love and then she transfers to his school and the next two and a half movies happen.”

“Indeed I do but i’m missing your point.” Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Think about it prep school, your $40,000 a year education should’ve taught you this much.” It takes Blaine a minute before he smiles in realisation and nearly chokes on his cigarette.

“Well hello Mr. Bolton, I will look forward to seeing you at McKinley.”
“Thank fuck you got it, I thought I was going to have to start singing.” Blaine stubs out his cigarette with his toe and reaches for his phone.

“I think Troy and Gabriella’s fatal flaw was that neither of them got their heads in the game and remembered cell phones exist.” Kurt takes the phone from Blaine’s hand and begins typing in his number. “I mean don’t feel obliged to call me or anything, do if you want, I’m not bothered, well I am because you’re hot as hell and shit I should shut up I’m doing the talky thing again.”

“For a guy who has piercings and wears guyliner you are a lot more puppy-like than I expected.” Kurt muses as he hands the phone back, giving his to Blaine.

“My friends call me the pseudo-bad boy.” He taps his number in and hands it back. “I get angry easy and can punch the shit out of anything that pisses me off and smoke and swear but honest I’m kind of a softy.”

“I see.”

“But I’ve been told I have a fantastic attitude in bed.” And it’s said with the sultry tone that Blaine’s first words were, they roll up Kurt’s neck and dust a coating across his mind until he can almost taste Blaine’s breath on his own and then he’s gone, hoodie slipping on his shoulder, hands buried in pockets. Kurt is left with an uncomfortable semi and the task to find a most likely naked Quinn.

He’s assaulted by warmth and a pungent aroma of urine and beer.

“Have you seen Q?” Kurt doesn’t bother waiting for the reply when he sees the size of the boy’s pupils.

The haze of pot is strong enough to knock Kurt back a bit, sour and sickly and too overcrowding.

“Q?” He knocks on the door of the bedroom with hesitance, leg jittering to get out of here.

“Kurt go the fuck home or something I’m busy.” He rolls his eyes and jams the door open. Unsurprisingly Quinn is on her knees in front of some tall blonde with a ten inch dick. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I met a guy.”
“Wrong time Kurt.” Kurt waves a vague hello to the guy on the bed and he returns the gesture, winking subtly.

“I’m sure blondey won’t mind.”

“Fine, is he cute, are you going to get married, did he put his cock in your ass, what do you want me to say Hummel?” For someone whose hand is still wrapped tightly around a dick she is fairly perceptive.

“Fuck it, by the way you might want to ask Blondey about whose lips he’s really imagining around his dick. Sebastian fucked him last year, queer as a three dollar bill.”

“You’re gay?!” She stands up frustrated and he nods softly.

“A blowjob is a blowjob jeez.” He glares at Kurt as Quinn wipes her hand on her jeans and walks out with Kurt.

“You suck Hummel.” Quinn tucks her hands in her pockets and walks towards the front door.

“I think you’ll find it was you doing the sucking, if we’re being pedantic.” She grabs two unopened beers from a table and hands one to Kurt.

“So who’s the stud?”

“Blaine.” He opens the can and takes a swig. “He’s hot and funny and kinda dorky.”
“Oh God, you sound like a teen movie Hummel.” They step over someone passed out on the front porch and begin the walk home.

“Yeah see that’s the thing, he has an ear full of piercings and looked like he would beat the shit out of anyone who crossed him.” He stares at his can. “But he also rambled like a nerd.”

“Mixed impressions I’m gathering.”

“You have no idea.”
“Well it’s about time you lost the big V anyway.” Kurt tenses but carries on walking.

“Q.” She glances over and ducks her head solemnly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, blondey might have the cock of a Norse God but the noises he was making were fucking creepy.”

“I don’t know how that’s supposed to make me feel any better but okay.” He shrugs a laugh and hops the fence into the park across from his house. “I’ll see you Q.”

“Bye Hummel, good luck with your piece of ass.” Kurt chucks the lager onto the grass and lights up again.

“Faggot!” Seb jumps on his back and Kurt shoves him off.

“I told you not to call me that douche wad.” Seb beams like a puppy and pushes his hand into Kurt’s pocket, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter.

“I’m reclaimin’ the hate brother!” Kurt just groans and walks faster, sneakers dragging through damp grass.

“Bullshit, seriously do you know how scary it is to have someone shout faggot and jump on your back in the middle of a random park at like 2 am.”

“I shouted it affectionately.” Seb pushes the things back into Kurt’s pocket and breathes out deeply.

“Guess who gave a blowjob to the Blonde you spent last summer fucking.” Seb raises an eyebrow.

“Elaborate, there were a lot of blondes.”

“10 inch dick, apparently moans like something possessed.”

“Oh Isaac, he was nice.”
“Well Quinn was going down on him.” Seb laughs and chokes on a lungful of smoke.

“Shit, he’s gayer than me!” Kurt laughs quietly and watches Seb wipe his watering eyes. They walk in silence for a few minutes, feet dragging through uncut grass until Seb pushes Kurt towards the swings.

“Why are you in a park at 2am?” Kurt plonks himself down on the rusty seat and pushes himself on his toes.

“I got bored, you can usually pick up guys here.”

“Sebastian there is a difference between hobos and guys.”

“He wasn’t homeless, closeted but not homeless.” Kurt stills himself and presses his check against the metal of the chain.

“How can you tell he was closeted?”
“His girlfriend rang half way through me blowing him, I had the courtesy not to talk but I made him squeal.” Seb chuckles and swings properly.

“You’re a mean man Smythe.” Kurt sticks to spinning on his toes. “I met a guy.”

“Is he cute?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you fuck?”
“No you asshole we talked for like 3 minutes or something ridiculously short like that.” Kurt twists to face Seb who is swinging fairly high now. “He goes to Dalton.”

“What’s his name?”
“Blaine.” Seb stops swinging immediately.

“Jesus Christ, Curls McGee Blaine?”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, he’s, actually a really nice guy, which is why I’m surprised he went for a dick like you.”
“Shut it.” Seb laughs and twists to face Kurt.

“He beat the shit out of some kid who called me a faggot once.” Seb smiles and Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“Ironic.”

“Reclaiming Hummel, read some blogs.”

“I better head home Seb, my Dad will flip if I’m back later than half past.”

“Alright, I’m going to see if I can get a blowjob but I’ll see you around.” Kurt hops off the swing and takes a last drag of his cigarette.

His sneakers are soaked and subsequently so are his socks and there’s something strangely comforting about the squelch as he drags himself to the hole in the fence. Kurt has always had some strange affinity with the park, especially at night, tends to calm him down, let him collect his thoughts. At this moment, there’s the sense of unrest, the feeling that the his Gabriella Montez has worked his way too far past his filter already, seeped in through cracks until all Kurt can see are hazel eyes and all he can feel is a burn in the pit of his stomach.

But this is what he lives for, these days, alcohol hazed comfort with friends and the feeling that nothing can go wrong. Kurt figures that if that isn’t a good way to live he wants to live the wrong way.

The porch light is still on as he kicks off his shoes and pushes into the hall. Finn is still playing Call of Duty in the game room, the occasional ‘Fuck Puck, friendly fire you ass’ coming up as a mumble but his Dad and Carole will be well asleep.

So he jogs up the stairs and pushes into his room, fingers tight in a fist around his phone, images of curls and piercings and smoke lines falling behind his eyelids. The scent of sultry smoke swirls in his nose until he can taste the breath on his lips and feel the warmth on his neck. There is nothing that can end well about this, nothing ever ends well but at this moment in time he’s content to bring the semi he’d been left with back to life until he’s whispering a first name and seeing stars behind his eyes.

He falls asleep with the fleeting hope that Blaine is whispering his name too.