The Repercussions of a Spiked Drink

Kurt's honestly not about to let one person get in the way of what is, and probably always will be, his and Blaine's favorite coffeeshop; the Lima Bean had, for one, wonderful coffee, and two, it held far too many memories for the two to simply give up on it just because Sebastian seemed to live in the floorboards.

Blaine had endured, and survived, his eye surgery. Like most things, he had been more than fearful of a doctor poking around at his eye in the beginning, but when it was over, he did not know why he was so afraid in the first place. He was to wear protective sunglasses for a few days, and was advised not to put much strain on either of his eyes. It did not matter to him; he could go a few days without any problem. What did matter, however, was his determination to never come into contact with Sebastian again, after Kurt and the entirety of New Directions let it spill to him that the drink was rigged with high levels of rock salt, and that it had, originally, been aimed for Kurt himself.

'Once a Warbler, always a Warbler' was dutifully a quote Blaine kept locked in his heart. Dalton had taken him in when he was down, and so had his Warbler friends, and when he realized that Sebastian's 'team' had willingly packed a slushie, knowing it's purpose was to hit Kurt - who was once a Warbler - he simply couldn't wrap his head around it. So, just as it should be, he blamed Sebastian.

During Regionals, Blaine knew, he was likely to come across Sebastian. Mind you, Sebastian was the personified plague in Blaine's view now and he blatantly refused to even speak a word to him - civility be damned.

Valentine's day was not so much of an event as it was a holiday for the couple. Blaine knew of Kurt's aversion to the day of hearts, and although he found himself donning a pair of dark sunglasses throughout the entire dance, he was sure he had made the holiday an enjoyable one for the two, if Kurt's words and actions later that night were any inclination.

Blaine had been nearly chained to his bed during the pre-surgery and post-surgery time spans; he had been itching to get out the moment he got in. But, as per doctor's orders, Blaine had to avoid strong light so stepping out into the sunlight would not be possible. He had been dubbed, by who else than his boyfriend, a vampire pirate.

At least he could manage to get out with the (slightly) overprotective Kurt Hummel, who seemed he would do anything to make up for a 'slushie that should have hit him, instead'.

"Oh, hush." Blaine turned to smile at Kurt from his passenger seat. "That slushie was not meant for you. If anything, it should have acted like a boomerang and hit Sebastian; not you, not me."

"Yes, but, in any case, you shouldn't have taken the bullet for me. Now you're walking around like a blind man while I act as your guide dog." Kurt scrunched his face up, playful and teasing, though Blaine could sense an underlying hint of anger. It was unashamedly obvious that Kurt had a bitter edge to him since their Bad performance, which had, ironically, turned out bad.

"I'm all right," Blaine chuckled, leaning over the arm rest to grab a hold of Kurt's free hand. "You are a very pretty guide dog, you know, and coming from a blind man, that's, like, a mega-compliment."

Kurt pulled into the Lima Bean parking lot, scanning the pavement for an empty space, while he shot Blaine a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. "Someone's taken a liking to their pain pills."

Blaine rolled his eyes, smiling. "I haven't taken those in weeks. I was only calling you beautiful."

Kurt pulled the keys out of the ignition, sighing and shifting to face Blaine. His eyes twinkled, and idly, Blaine registered that there was no hidden spark of anger buried within. "On that note, let's head in. I'll pay for the coffee if you pay for the apple bread."

"Don't forget the biscotti!"

Kurt shook his head and laughed quietly in his chest, hopping out of the car and opening Blaine's end with a nod. "Can't forget the biscotti."

Blaine jumped down from the large vehicle, straightening his clothes. Kurt paused. "Are you sure you don't want your sunglasses?"

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand, grasping it and giving it a small swing. "No, I don't need them. Even if I did, it would really bite because I didn't bring them."

Kurt narrowed his eyes sternly. Finally, he simply tugged on Blaine's arm and pulled him forward. "Coffee. We need coffee."

Blaine chuckled and went to catch up with his boyfriend. Kurt pushed open the Lima Bean door, scanning the room with suspicion, before nodding in approval and squeezing Blaine's hand. The two hurried to enter the obnoxiously long line, discreetly shielding their clasped hands against their thighs.

Kurt smiled to himself. Perhaps this would be one of the lucky times where Sebastian wasn't here. It seemed the meerkat had set up surveillance cameras of his own around the small shop, watching greedily day in and out for a glimpse of a member from New Directions, so he could then float towards them with a smirk and some sort of rude greeting. Rachel had told Kurt that Sebastian had approached her, as Mercedes and Tina had left early, and had threatened the state of their Glee club.

Sebastian was out to win, and the costs he could travel to do so were unnerving.

Upon ordering and paying, the barista handed Blaine the small paper bag of their apple bread and biscottis while she told the two that their coffee would be ready in a matter of minutes. Blaine eyed hungrily at the bag in his hand, and Kurt shuffled him off the side to wait for the coffee.

Kurt broke into the paper bag to pick off a corner of the apple bread, offering a piece to Blaine. He popped one in his mouth as well, and dusted his hands off.

Blaine smiled toothily at him, leaning himself against the brick wall and poking curiously at his eye. "Don't do that," Kurt said, reaching up to pull Blaine's hand back down, fingers lingering a moment too long. It wasn't as if the two minded.

"To customers waiting for coffee," a bored voice yelled over the whizz of the machinery, "it's gonna be an extra few minutes. We're busy here."

Kurt sighed, shrugging and turning to Blaine. "I'm going to make a quick run to the mens room. I can grab our coffee on the way out. Find us a seat?"

Blaine nodded. "The usual table?"

"Let's mix it up today."

Blaine grinned, and gave Kurt's one last affectionate squeeze before branching off to scout out an acceptable seat. Kurt shifted in his stance and strode to the mens room. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered a smirking, devilish face flash past him. Inclining his head to look behind him, he saw only blank faces. Thinking nothing of it, he continued on.

Minutes later, he returned out into the same jumbled mess of people that was the Lima Bean. Hitching his bag higher up on his shoulder, he spotted cups inscribed with scribbled names perched upon the counter. Upon investigation, he grabbed the two cups labeled 'Kurt Hummel' and 'Blaine Anderson' before stifling a gasp at the full tables in front of him. A flash of familiar motion caught his eye, a wave from Blaine near the window, and he smiled in relief. He swept threw the room with a little difficulty, before plopping down on the loveseat next to Blaine.

"Thank you," Blaine said happily, leaning into Kurt's shoulder to take his coffee. "I saved you part of my biscotti."

"Blaine," Kurt trilled in laughter, "the point of a biscotti is to dip in your coffee." He took the offered half of the cookie and let out a sigh. "But thank you. This place is really packed; I wouldn't have been able to find you if you hadn't flagged me down."

Blaine bumped his shoulder playfully, and took a deep sip of his drink. He smiled contentedly.

Kurt shook his cup idly. Before he had a chance to drink it, however, an unwelcome face entered the scene. Blaine grimaced noticeably, and Kurt groaned aloud. Did this guy have no limits?

"Good day, Blaine, Kurt," Sebastian nearly drawled, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Oh, bite your tongue, Sebastian," Kurt snipped, "And no, it's not a good day. You're here, aren't you?"

Sebastian stood before them, clad in casual wear, which simply consisted of jeans and a tight sweatshirt; Kurt had to admit it was odd seeing him out of his Dalton uniform. Sebastian crossed his arms, and returned a wink from the barista. Blaine rolled his eyes and took a large gulp of his coffee, merely for something to do that wasn't speaking to this rat.

"You are so right, Kurt," Sebastian sneered, and instantly Kurt resented the way his name sounded rolling off of Sebastian's tongue. "Don't mind me, then." He then strode away, a mischievous smirk upon his face.

Kurt turned to Blaine, an eyebrow raised. "What just... happened?"

"I'm just as confused as you."

Pulling his eyebrows together, Kurt let the thought be. He would not let Sebastian get to him.

A faded scent drifted up, circling his nose. He grasped his coffee cup and raised it to his mouth, taking an enormous swig of the liquid. He swallowed a mouthful, before hurriedly taking another - anything to calm his frenzied nerves at Sebastian's appearance.

Something was wrong - something burned and choked him and it stung his tongue and scorched his throat; he felt sick, he felt as if he was going to be sick; his eyes widened, and tears threatened to leak past the eyelids. He coughed, the vibration burning his throat but he could not stop and coffee was spilling over his lips and onto his hand as sharp air exploded from his lungs. He held a hand to his mouth, shaking his head as his cheeks began to redden.

Kurt jumped up from the couch, dropping the cup onto the floor where it tore apart and leaked across the boards. He looked frantically around him, feeling restricted as people looked over at him impatiently, as if his antics were a misguided way to attract attention.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked worriedly, standing up with him, hands shaking as he tried, without success, to put them on Kurt's struggling form; Kurt's own hands were held to his mouth as coffee droplets escaped past his lips.

Knowing he was making quite the scene, and not the kind he wanted, Kurt forced the acidic liquid down his throat, sparks of tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He exhaled, as quietly as he could, attempting to ignore the blank looks sent his way, and coughed once more, clutching a hand to his throat as he squeezed and struggled to get the burn out of him. Blaine held a hand to Kurt's back, rubbing soothingly, eyes wide in perplexity and uncertainty. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," Kurt managed to choke out. "My-my throat is on fire, and dear god, I don't feel well at all."

"Was it something in that drink?" Blaine asked slowly. Kurt shook his head, mouthing phrases of bewilderment. The pain was receding, that much was for sure - as it was the only thing he could feel, he knew it was leaving him as quickly as it had begun.

The bitter clack of shoes were sent his way, and Kurt tried to hide his face, desire to be seen by a stranger in this state low. The footsteps were heading towards the two, and Kurt felt Blaine's hands stiffen on his back. "Leave us be, Sebastian." Blaine snapped.

"Oh, man, Kurt, what happened?" Sebastian asked in forged worry, voice falsely and even rudely sincere though a grin was plastered to his face. Shaking his hands out in distress, Kurt sought for something to take away the lingering fiery taste in his mouth. The yearning to call out for a drink was so incurably low, as he could already feel the eyes on him and attracting more attention was not a suitable option at this point, so he merely forced his way through the dull throbbing of this throat.

"God, what did you do this time? Spike my drink?" he spat, face remaining red but morphing from troubled to fury.

Sebastian shook his head, hands finding their way into his jeans pockets in an act of casual nonchalance. He raised his head, as if to look down on him, and Kurt could feel his anger growing steadily and quickly.

"I've learned my lesson from last time, Kurt," and there was his name, slipping so maliciously off Sebastian's tongue, "I'm sure Blaine remembers."

Blaine, hands still placed tersely on Kurt's back, wore a face of disbelief, lips wide and eyes narrowed. Kurt straightened, and Blaine's hands fell limply off his back. Kurt craned his neck, instantly regretting it as he felt the strain on his throat, but his eyes remained on Blaine, wondering and silently asking Blaine if he was going to say anything.

At Blaine's lack of voice, Kurt spoke, words tumbling out of his mouth like snarls. "I will ask you once more, Sebastian. Did you spike my drink?"

"That depends." Sebastian shrugged, a malevolent sneer on his lips. "If I had, it wouldn't much matter, because you're too much a coward to do anything about it."

Kurt's snapped. Face pink with rage, he felt wind diverge against his hand as it cut through air and landed with a sickeningly strident smack against Sebastian's cheek.

Those around them fell curiously silent, while the customers on the outskirts paid no mind. In the direct gathering of the three, though, it was quite the opposite; it was completely devoid of noise, as it was around them, but the silence was not wondering, it was not curious; it was stiff, the air around them, the tension could be cut with a knife.

Kurt's hand had been left motionless in the air around his waist, after the impact had brought it back down, so he carefully, and not very successfully, dignified himself once more, in awe at what he had done but not regretting any moment of it. Blaine mouth was gaping, as he looked over Kurt's face in surprise and veneration, expressions shifting from shock and wonder to sheer, almost apologetic amusement at Sebastian's state.

"You, you-!" Sebastian spluttered, taken aback and purely appalled. His cheek, not readily red yet, was beginning to tinge and Sebastian raised a reluctant hand to rub at the abused flesh.

"Tell me," Kurt scowled, "Tell me what you put in that drink."

"If you think I'm telling you anything now," Sebastian growled, "then you are sorely mistaken."

Kurt said, or really, hissed, "I may have been the better person last time you rigged a drink, but don't you doubt for a second that I would be stupid enough to not make a few extra copies of the recording before I so trustingly gave you the original.

"And, really," Kurt continued, feeling triumphant at the flash of hesitation in Sebastian's eyes, "The police station is just a hop over the road."

Sebastian paused, stroking his cheek almost absentmindedly and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Kurt felt a rush of achievement course through him, and, he noticed with a grimace, a rush of something else entirely run through him as well. He felt his cheeks tinge red.

"Now, what was the special ingredient you put in my drink?"

"An assortment of things," he supplied, weakly though he tried desperately to maintain a cool persona, even when he had no other allies, "Including, but not limited to, lemon juice, Devil's hot sauce, Everclear 150-proof-"

Kurt, stunned, promptly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Blaine to throw an angry glare at Sebastian before running to catch up with Kurt. Sebastian stood long after the murmurs of the coffeshop had died and the conventional conversations of the customers picked back up again, Sebastian, Blaine, and Kurt's argument tucked away in their minds.

Biting his lip, Sebastian hurried to get away - get somewhere. Watching as Kurt's identifiable black car drove away, Sebastian leaned his head against the glass window. Eyes shifting to the side, he caught sight of Kurt and Blaine's Lima Bean bag where it had been discarded atop the table, a foot above Kurt's fallen coffee cup; the liquid was streaming out onto the floor - brown coffee with no expressive way to know it had been tainted. Blaine's own was perched next to the bag.

He ought to stop. He ought to stop sabotaging. He ought to stop with his snide and spiteful comments. He ought to stop trying to put a wedge between Kurt and Blaine.

He ought to stop.