Chapter Nineteen: Sugar, We're going down

Blaine's morning had been nothing short of stellar. Anderson International's stock was up, the dining hall served Belgium waffles, Mr. Pettigrew didn't show up for World Economics so he'd had a free period, Wes had let him know that the council was going to okay his suggestions for their next performance and Kurt had sent him an adorably flirty text message. Blaine was sure that things couldn't have gone any better if he'd scripted them and then his entire day got shot straight to hell with one voicemail.

~Your mother and I are coming into town next week. We expect you to make time to have dinner with us.~

After that Blaine felt as if a black cloud hung over him. He was surly, short tempered and irritable. The specter of his parent's impeding visit drained all the color from his world and painted it angry black.

"Seriously Blaine, who the fuck pissed in your Corn Flakes?" Jeff demanded when Blaine yelled at a freshman for walking too slowly in front of him.

Blaine gave Jeff a dark look and before he answered. "No one, as you so eloquently put it, pissed in my Corn Flakes. I just got a message from my sperm donor that he and the gold digging incubator are going to be in town next week and want to spend an evening pretending the three of us don't hate one another."

Jeff whistled sympathetically. "Ah, the parental units. Doesn't it warm your heart when they stop being completely self absorbed just long enough to completely fuck you over?"

Blaine shook his head. "I don't have the energy for them or their drama right now," he said angrily. "I'm stressed enough and already have dinner plans this weekend."

"All weekend?" Jeff asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe not all weekend," Blaine admitted. "Jasper and I have a business dinner with Hardison Sinclair on Friday and then Saturday I'm taking Kurt home so the two of them can meet."

"And Sunday?"

"Fine so Sunday's open," Blaine said sullenly. "But I'll either be celebrating how well things went between Kurt and Jasper or things will have gone so badly between the two of them that I'll be extremely disappointed and such a complete and utter bitch that no one in their right mind will want to be around."

"So you meet the parents on Sunday," Jeff said brightly. "You'll either be in such a good mood they won't be able to bring you down or you'll be in such a bad mood they'll think twice about forcing you to play happy family the next time they're in town."

Blaine sighed. "I don't want to," he whined.

"Yeah well, I don't want to go sit in a circle and share my feelings with a bunch of narcissistic attention whores but we all gotta do things we don't want to," Jeff replied.

"You're a narcissistic attention whore," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I want to sit and listen to ten other people bitch and whine about how hard it is to be one," Jeff shrugged. "And it's not like I haven't tried to care. I've slept with like three fourths of the group and I gotta tell you, great sex aside, they still just really suck as people man."

"You slept with-what is wrong with you?" Blaine asked the blonde. "Even I wouldn't troll for ass at group therapy."

"Yo, don't knock it til you tried it. Sex with crazy people is like, super awesome."

"Your parents need to get their money back. Therapy is not doing you any favors. You're as offensive, promiscuous and self destructive as ever," Blaine said seriously.

"Whoa whoa whoa, pump your brakes home slice," Jeff said coming to a stop outside of Blaine's dorm room and waiting for the other boy to unlock the door.

"First of all, when you grow up in a political family there's a freedom in being offensive that you can't even begin to appreciate or understand," Jeff said as he draped his blazer across the back of a chair and plopped down onto Blaine's bed. "Second of all, insinuating that my promiscuity is something I need to change or be embarrassed about is slut shaming, which is wrong and coming from you, King of the Fuck and Chuck, it's also hypocritical and third, I'm working on my self-destructive tendencies but I have poor impulse control and issues with emotional self regulation so it's a bit of a work in process."

"I take it back," Blaine said as he took up the spot on the bed next to Jeff and stripped off his Dalton tie. "You are getting your money's worth out of therapy. That was the biggest load of psycho babble I've ever heard."

Jeff gave Blaine a mischievous look before he spoke again. "I'm actively listening and I hear what you're saying. I'm sorry that you feel that way but I feel put down and hurt when oomphf."

Jeff didn't get to complete his sentence before Blaine straddled him and began playfully trying to gag him with his Dalton tie.

"I guess the rumors are true. You really are one kinky son of a bitch, Anderson. Why am I not surprised you are, in fact, a complete deviant." Thad's voice floated in from the doorway.

Blaine sighed and rolled off of Jeff. "I'm not the one who can list 'starred in an internet porn' video as a family trait," Blaine snapped back. "Go way, Thad. I'm busy now. I'll ignore your existence some other time."

Thad scowled. "Fuck you Anderson-"

"Not even in someone else's wet dream, Harwood."

"Did you come in here for a reason Thad?" Jeff asked hoping to stop the argument before it had a chance to truly get started.

"Indeed I did," Thad beamed. "I just wanted to give Blaine a heads up. Earlier I was corned by Tanner Kensington. You remember Tanner don't you, Blaine? Blonde hair, green eyes, sophomore twink?" Anywhoo, he wanted to know if the rumors were true and you actually made the Warblers travel to Deliverence to serenade your latest conquest," Thad smirked. "Tanner was just so insistent that it was beneath the Warblers to help you with your latest random that I accidently let it slip that you're quite serious about Kurt and pretty much off the market. He was understandably upset considering you stopped seeing him because you said relationships just weren't your thing. He stormed off mumbling something about someone needing to warn Kurt just what kind of guy his boyfriend really was. I'm relatively sure by now Kurt's Facebook is getting an awful lot of traffic and you know what they say about scorned lovers. Who knows what kind of tales Tanner is filling the poor boy's head with?"

Jeff's eyes widened in alarm and he glanced at Blaine, fully prepared to restrain his friend if necessary and was shocked to see that Blaine looked perfectly serene.

"Thank you for the warning Thad," Blaine said as he rose from the bed, made his way over to his desk and got on his laptop.

"It might be a bit too late to head Tanner off at the pass," Thad said in a smug voice as he watched Blaine furiously tap away at his keyboard. "I ran into him before lunch and it just slipped my mind until a few minutes ago. I hope your damage control skills are up to snuff because if Tanner's told your pet poor kid how quickly your passion cools after a game or two of mattress tag you'll be lucky if he ever speaks to you again. Quinn told me how inexperienced Kurt is. Poor thing probably completely overreacted."

"Your concern is touching," Blaine remarked, smiling broadly and leaning back in his chair. "But it's completely unwarranted. First, Kurt's Facebook is private. Second, he knows I have a past and he doesn't judge me for it. And third, Tanner and I had a small chat earlier. He realized being petty and vindictive would accomplish nothing and agreed to leave the past in the past."

Blaine's statement was a stripped down, whitewashed version of the truth. After his conversation with Thad, Tanner had tracked down Blaine and confronted him, making the mistake of informing Blaine that he planned to tell Kurt how Blaine had talked Tanner into sleeping with him while Blaine was supposed to be dating Christophe Van Lucre and then dumped both boys via text a few days later.

Blaine had responded by asking Tanner if he thought interfering in his relationship with Kurt was worth his recently reconciled parents divorcing over. Tanner had been confused until Blaine explained that it would be terrible shame if Mrs. Kensington discovered that her husband was not only still seeing his mistress but also a regular client of several high priced escorts.

"You're lying. My father would never…how would you even know that?"

Blaine laughed cynically. "Your father most certainly would. And he has. And how I know is irrelevant. The fact is I know and more importantly, I can prove it. You have a choice to make here Tanner. You either walk away with your family intact or attempt to exact some sort of petty revenge and let your family pay the price for your transgression."

"I fucking hate you," Tanner spat.

"I'm not all that fond of you either," Blaine replied easily. "But I trust that we have a deal? I stay out of your father's affairs and you stay out of mine?"

Tanner was beside himself with anger but he knew that Blaine had him over a barrel. His mother had barely survived the humiliation of finding out about his father's affair and he knew that she wouldn't be able to stand the sneers and whispers that would come if it became public knowledge that he was actually paying for prostitutes. He wasn't stupid; he knew his father was far from the only man in their social group to cheat on his wife or sleep with escorts, but the unwritten rule was to keep skeletons in the closet under lock and key. Secrets were acceptable; scandals were not.

"Yes, we have a deal," Tanner grit out through clenched teeth. "I can't believe I ever let you touch me."

"I can't believe I ever bothered," Blaine said coldly. "You're an overly dramatic pain in the ass and a lousy lay. Piece of advice Tanner: don't cross me again. The next time it won't end so well," Blaine warned before he turned and walked away from the furious blonde.

Thad's smile slipped the tiniest bit and furrowed his brow. "If you and Tanner came to terms why the mad dash to your laptop?" he asked bringing Blaine back to the present.

"Oh that?" Blaine said, feigning innocence. "All your talk about Kurt's Facebook wall reminded me that I needed to accept Quinn's friend request."

"Well," Thad began, "Quinn is free to friend whomever she wants. Although I did think she had more discerning tastes."

"Apparently I'm popular among hot blondes. Jeff, Tanner, Quinn," Blaine paused deliberately before looking at Thad and grinning, "Leah."

Thad flushed and then narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Since when do you talk to Leah?"

Leah Aldridge was blonde, beautiful, blue blooded and the queen bee of their peer group's social hive. When she said jump, every debutante in a fifty mile radius asked "how high"? One word from Leah turned outcasts into insiders and sent insiders into exile. Thad had been trying to charm his way into Leah's good graces-and her bed-for the last six months. It had been no easy undertaking. Even though Thad possessed all the proper qualifications and acceptable family ties, Leah was a girl who knew her worth and refused to mortgage her future trophy wife status by sullying her pristine reputation. Preserving her aura of propriety had been one reason she had never been anything more than cool and cordial towards Blaine and why Thad, after his widely known troubles with his ex, had been forced to jump through flaming hoops in order to woo her. Thad had risen to the challenge however and pulled out all the stops, finally managing to get Leah to agree to be his date for an upcoming charity ball.

If Leah got close to Blaine or worse yet found out about Quinn, all of Thad's hard work would be for naught.

Blaine shrugged. "Anderson International is underwriting the charity ball for Children's Hospital this year. Leah's head of some volunteer group that's raising funds for the event. We ran into one another at the club a few weeks ago, got to talking about things and well…a friendship was born."

"So you and Leah are friends?"

"Mmm hmm," Blaine replied nonchalantly. "And now, apparently so are Quinn and I."

Blaine let the threat hang in the air, unspoken but fully understood. Blaine held the power to destroy Thad's chances with both girls. One word to Quinn about Leah and the girl would never speak to Thad again and all the time he'd spent wooing the beauty would go to waste. Worse than that, one word to Leah and Thad's entire social standing would be at risk. His reputation had barely recovered from the incident with Anastasia and Yasmin, he couldn't afford to have Leah put him on her blacklist.

"Blaine-"

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Tanner and I'm only going to tell you once," Blaine said coldly as he rose from his seat and walked over to where Thad still stood in the doorway. "Don't cross me again," he warned lowly before he stepped back and slammed the door in Thad's face.

Slow clapping filled the room and Blaine turned around to face a slightly disapproving Jeff. "Impressive. Although the two of you get less and less entertaining every time you pull this crap. Why don't you two just whip out your dicks and a ruler and get it over with? Seriously Blaine, this whole thing with Thad has got to stop. At this point I don't know if you two need to fight or fuck to get all the animosity out of your systems."

Blaine grimaced and then shook his head. "Thad's straight. If he wasn't we probably would have hate sex years ago and we'd still be exactly where we are, with me having to constantly remind him that he is and always will be inferior."

"Yeah yeah," Jeff said rolling his eyes. "You do know all he's gonna do is go think up another way to come after you."

"If Thad wants to waste his time coming up with new and better ways to fail I can't stop him," Blaine said. "But I meant what I said. The next time he comes after me, it'll be the last."

"He's not just coming after you anymore though," Jeff said quietly. "He's also coming after Kurt-indirectly but still. It's pretty obvious he sees Kurt as a weakness of yours he can exploit. And you know Thad-he's not going to give up. If he has to go through Kurt to get to you, he will."

Blaine's easy countenance evaporated and his facial expression took on a look of pure malice. "That would be a monumental mistake on Thad's part," Blaine said with deceptive calm. "One I'd take great pleasure in making sure he lived to regret. I would break him and everyone he cared about. I would destroy his present, and obliterate his future. I would wreck him so completely his grandchildren would still be suffering the consequences. I would -"

"Whoa dude, dial it down a notch. Just pointing out the obvious, not trying to send you the ragey place," Jeff said waving his hands.

"I don't have a ragey place," Blaine denied immediately.

"Uh yeah you do," Jeff argued. "And it's mucho scary when you unleash that beast, bro," Jeff cocked his head to the side. "You know, if we really were bro's, my parents would totes have you in anger management."

"That would be a giant waste of everyone's time and their money since I'm hardly ever angry Jeff," Blaine protested.

"No, you hardly ever express anger. Instead of venting like a normal person you choke on it until you can't take it anymore, then you explode and the aftermath is like freaking Chernobyl," Jeff countered. "Most of the time you're the definition of calm, cool and collected but when your buttons get pushed…your temper is dangerous, man. Mostly because no one ever even knows when you're pissed until it's too late and then it's really too late."

Blaine sighed. "I won't argue that when I do show my temper I can get a little carried away, but like you said most of the time I'm calm, cool and collected."

"Only because most of the time when you get mad you start channeling Machiavelli and are too plotting on whoever pissed you off to actually be angry like a normal person," Jeff retorted. "All I'm saying is, you might want to watch it when it comes to Kurt. Thad's already figured out he's a way to get to you. If he knew how just how unglued you get about the guy, there's no telling what he'd do."

"I'll keep that in mind," Blaine said annoyed that Jeff was right and irritated that he didn't know what to do about it. "I don't want to talk about Thad anymore. I need a distraction. By some miracle I have no homework today and Resident Evil is calling my name. You in?"

Jeff knew Blaine well enough to recognize a dismissal when he heard it. "Always man. Let's kick some zombie ass."

"Fuck Blaine Anderson," Thad thundered, as he stormed into Flint's dorm room and slammed the door. "Fuck his smug face and his superior attitude and fucking blackmail. Fuck him. Fuck him right in the ass with no prep, no lube and a sandpaper rubber," Thad ranted.

Flint put his pencil down and squinted at Thad. "I take it things with Tanner didn't quite go as planned."

Thad furiously tore off his blazer and threw it on Flint's bed. "No Flint," Thad growled, "Things with Tanner didn't go as planned. Somehow Blaine managed to talk him into playing nice and letting bygones be bygones. And then, if that weren't bad enough, Blaine's managed to become friendly with both Quinn and Leah."

Flint winced sympathetically. "I'm sorry, man."

Thad sneered at the other boy. "You certainly are. I don't know why I keep you around. You're absolutely useless," he snarled.

Flint's eyes flickered to his Lacrosse shaft in the corner of the room and he had a brief fantasy of beating Thad with it until he was bruised and bloodied, humiliated, broken and properly remorseful for the disrespectful way he spoke to him. He closed his eyes, let the fantasy play out and then shook it away. He couldn't afford to give in to his impulses. He had to keep his eye on the prime objective, which was getting revenge on Blaine.

Flint had hoped he'd be able to use Thad as a means to achieve that end but more and more the boy was proving himself incompetent. If they were going to make any headway, he was going to have to subtly take the reins. Thad was simply taking too long and failing too often for Flint's liking. He knew he couldn't outright take charge; Thad was arrogant and prideful and he'd balk immediately. But Flint was losing his patience and Thad missing the obvious hole in Blaine's blackmail plot annoyed him to no end. Flint knew if he pointed it out to the other teen, Thad's pride wouldn't allow him to admit he'd been had but he suspected that a subtly placed trail of breadcrumbs might get the train back on the tracks.

"Thad?" Flint asked after a few moments.

"What?"

"I need you to explain something to me," Flint said carefully.

"What Flint? How two and two make four?" Thad asked nastily.

Flint forced down his anger and shook his head. "No, I don't understand how Blaine is going to keep Kurt from getting mad at him. He and Quinn are friends right? Won't Kurt be mad that Blaine didn't tell him about you and Leah?"

Thad opened his mouth to reply and then snapped it shut. It had never occurred to him that Blaine would have to find a way to appease Kurt if he were to out Thad to Quinn.

"He would be putting himself in a perilous position with his pet poor kid wouldn't he," Thad mused out loud.

"I guess so," Flint replied trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. "Kurt was kind of protective of Blaine that day in the coffee shop. He's probably like that with all of his friends."

Thad's smile fell. "Except that Blaine isn't just Kurt's friend," he sighed. "He's either fucking the kid six ways from Sunday by now or he's got his wrapped around his little finger. Even if Kurt did get upset, Blaine would find a way out of it. He always does," he added bitterly.

Flint's chest tightened uncomfortably and his hands curled into fists at the thought of Blaine and Kurt having sex. He was simultaneously bombarded by guilty memories of his night with Blaine and his unwanted attraction towards Kurt.

Kurt Hummel was rapidly becoming a problem for Flint, one he had no idea how to solve. Kurt had slowly taken over his subconscious, pushing Blaine aside until it was long limbed, pale beauty that starred in Flint's illicit, explicit fantasies. More and more when he was lying alone in his bed, pajama bottoms and boxer briefs pushed halfway down his thighs and his cock in his hand all he found himself thinking of Kurt soft, pink lips wrapped around his shaft, sucking him down like that's what he was born to do. When he came, spilling slick, wet heat onto his stomach and sheets most of the time it was to images of Kurt with his mile long legs wrapped around his waist, nails in his back, moaning like a whore and begging for it as Flint pounded into him deeperharderfaster.

Other times the fantasies were darker, more depraved and decidedly less consensual but Flint didn't like to dwell on those. There are places his mind has gone that scare even him. Flint wasn't stupid; he knew what people thought of him. That he was dangerous. That he was unbalanced and violent. That he was a mental case and the only reason he wasn't locked up was because of his family's money. Flint knew that none of that was exactly untrue, but it still bothered him to know that people thought he was sick, that he was crazy.

Flint refused to think of himself as crazy. Sure he let his anger get the better of him and fine he may have hurt a couple of people but they were just his housekeeper Inez' son and a valet a club. It's not like he attacked anyone who really mattered. He'd never gone after one of his peers no matter how sorely he'd been tempted. Crazy people, Flint reasoned, weren't selectively crazy. They couldn't pick and choose when to have episode they just…did. Flint was in control. As he long as he had control, he wasn't crazy no matter what kind of medication his doctor tried to shove down his throat or rumors his peers started behind his back.

Flint's biggest fear however was that he was, in fact, sick. Intellectually he understood that sexuality wasn't an illness. That being gay, being straight, being neither, being both-none of it made a person sick. But emotionally all he could think was that his fantasies, his wants, his desires are wrong. That he was wrong. That he was twisted and perverse, warped and distorted. Flint wasn't like Sterling. He couldn't hook up with a guy one week and a girl the next as if it didn't matter. Flint wasn't like Blaine. He couldn't flaunt his sexuality, piling up sexual partners like so many notches on a bedpost as if it were no big deal. Flint was certainly nothing like Kurt. So obviously gay and parading around his abnormality as if were something to be proud of.

Flint felt as if he'd been violated, infected somehow with unwanted desires and his dalliance with Blaine and fascination with Kurt was his punishment. It sent him into a downward spiral of disgrace and depression whenever he was forced to acknowledge that he had a plethora of fantasies that he could never turn into realities without losing everything. Blaine had taught him that. Blaine had taught him that even if no one ever found out Flint would know and he'd choke on the shame until it turned into an anger that all but consumed him.

So no, Flint wasn't crazy. And technically he didn't have an illness but he was frightened that he was a little bit sick. He was pretty sure though, that it was Blaine who had made that way and it was Kurt who was keeping him that way. There was something about the two of them made Flint powerless. He'd never obsessed over Sterling or Van Lucre; never had nightly fantasies of Tanner or gave more than an idle, easily repressed, thought to any of the other openly gay boys he'd come across or attractive males he went to school with. But Blaine had gotten under his skin, burrowed and dug his way deep inside and it had taken the cruel loss of Flint's virginity for him to be able to get him out. He still thought about Blaine, but it wasn't with the same all consuming fire he'd once had. No, his focus had shifted and Flint had decided that if he could just get his revenge on Blaine he'd be able to close that chapter. He'd be able to shove there encounter to the darkest corner of his mind and never think of it again. That once he didn't feel used and humiliated, once he'd gotten even, he could move on and let Blaine Anderson become a distant memory.

Kurt however, was a horse of a different color. As much as he wished that his interest in Kurt was fleeting and would diminish over time, the opposite was proving to be true. As the days went by he became more and more fixated on the brunette. The last time Flint had felt that way it had been Blaine and that had ended in disaster.

Disaster or not, it had ended, Flint realized with a start. He hated Blaine now. Indulging in his fantasy and having Blaine rebuff him had killed every bit of the want and longing Flint used to feel for him. Perhaps things with Kurt would work the same way. Maybe if he had the other boy, just once, he'd be able to get it out of his system.

Flint was relatively sure that Kurt wasn't as promiscuous as Blaine, probably hated him and wouldn't voluntarily end up in his bed. Flint also knew that he couldn't take the boy by force-it was stupid and risky, would leave too much evidence and if Kurt told he'd lose absolutely everything.

A plan rolled around on the edges of his consciousness and began to take shape. Flint realized that if he were patient, had a little luck on his side and played his cards right, he could kill two birds with one stone.

"Flint!" Thad yelled, throwing a pillow and capturing Flint's attention. "Have you heard a word I've said?"

Flint bit back his sarcastic reply and did his best to look contrite. "Sorry Thad. You know I get distracted easily."

Thad made a sound of disgust. "I know five year olds with ADHD who have better attention spans than you."

As Thad droned on about Leah, Quinn, Warblers and the latest incarnation of his plan to bring down Blaine, Flint nodded politely, pretended to listen, and mentally worked out the details of his own plan.