Santana's impassive brown eyes are murky with unjustified infuriation as she speaks. "Becky, you have got the grace and tactic of Rick Santorum."

Becky glowers at her, her arms throbbing from being in the exact same position for so long. She hadn't thought that Santana's bitch of a girlfriend, Brittany, would be so heavy.

Heck, she hadn't anticipated being the one lifting Brittany. After all, the blonde girl was Santana's girlfriend. Wasn't it pretty customary for the aggressive Latina to lift her?

Or maybe Brittany was supposed to hold Santana.

Becky smirks at the thought. Santana is entirely whipped.

"No," Santana shakes her head and stabs her finger at the illustration, ruining Becky's unequivocally splendid diagram of a very judiciously thought-out routine. "There's no way we're doing that. We'll look like pussies."

"Oh, but I thought you loved pussy." Becky retorts, angered at Santana's words.

Santana's face goes bright red. "Shut it, mini-Sue, I'm trying to change this shitty plan you've made so that we don't make fools out of ourselves."

Becky sighs, and sits back down in her chair, rubbing her arms. "Our routine is fine, thank you very much."

Santana bites her lip, pointing out several more flaws in the drawing, and Becky has to refrain from punching her.

That Latina bitch really does get on her nerves.

"Please?"

Blaine grimaces at the girl, who is irrefutably striking, but still – girl. And he has a boyfriend. He shoves her away lightly, and merely shrugs his shoulders when she gazes at him buoyantly. "Sorry… I'm gay."

The girl instantaneously jumps away from him, wiping her shoulders in repugnance and Blaine recoils. A minute ago, that girl had been all over him. Now, just because he'd accredited that he was attracted to people of the same gender, he was being judged by that very girl.

McKinley could be a very bothersome school.

Kurt's had a pretty unpleasant morning so far.

He hasn't seen any of his friends, and is presently residing in a grimy dumpster. His treasured Alexander McQueen long-sleeve sweater is covered in unhygienic fruit and ruined. Sure, it was part of the women's collection, but it was very form fitting and he loved it.

Plus, Blaine had called him sexy when he was wearing it. That was always a bonus.

Kurt winces as he climbs out, convinced that he has a bloody cut on his leg. It's not the first time he's been wounded in a dumpster toss, but Kurt hasn't been thrown in one for months.

He'd forgotten how much it hurts.

"Seriously, Britts, I don't think I can work with that short bitch breathing down my neck all the time," Santana breathes out, placing a few kisses on her girlfriend's neck.

Brittany smiles delicately at her, letting out a few lenient giggles as Santana attacks her throat with affection. "I like Becky," she says humbly. "She likes unicorns, you see, so she's proven herself to be very wise."

Santana pauses, beaming softly at Brittany. "Hmm, I'm still not convinced though."

Brittany rolls her eyes. "That's because you can be incredibly stupid sometimes, San." Brittany lets out another laugh. "I think it's adorable."

"If anyone's adorable, you are." Santana replies, and kisses Brittany languorously on the lips.

Brittany finally pulls away, her face glowing. "Why don't you speak to my dolphin? He was good when he was on the Cheerio's…"

Santana laughs. "Hummel? All he did was sing."

"But he was a hot dolphin when he was with us," Brittany pointed out. "And all the judges like hot dolphins."

"Hmm, if I was a coach, I would like the hot female unicorns." Santana says flirtatiously.

"That's because you are a female unicorn, silly."

Santana cackles caringly. "Well, this unicorn really wants to get her mack on with another very beautiful unicorn. Come on, let's go the janitor's closet. I hear Brad's in there letting out all his internal angst. It'll be fun to interrupt."

Brittany smiles. "I love you, San."

"Love you too, Britts."

Brittany finds Kurt in the girl's bathroom, doing whatever he does.

Brittany doesn't ask. After all, Kurt's a special unicorn-dolphin. A duniphin. That's what her mother called them.

"Hi, duniphin!" She says cheerfully, bouncing up to Kurt and kissing his cheek affectionately.

"Britt!" Kurt says in surprise, though his tone is delighted. "Why are you in here?"

"It's the girl's bathroom," Brittany points out, as if it was obvious. "I need to go to the toilet. Is it true that you poop rainbow glitter? Because that makes you a very special duniphin."

Kurt cringes with discomfiture, and shakes his head in the negative. "I'm afraid not, Brittany. Now, seeing as we're both here, I was planning a little rendezvous to the mall with Blaine and my girls. Do you want to come along?"

"Can I bring Santana?"

"Sure, Satan can come." Kurt smiles, rubbing his leg.

It's the first time Brittany notices that Kurt's skin is blemished with a ghastly red stain. "Are you bleeding?" she asks in dismay.

Kurt grimaces at her, and nods his head. "It's no big deal, Britt. I just got tossed in the dumpster again. You know how it is."

"But you're my dolphin!" Brittany says in horror. "You're not allowed to be hurt."

"Well, some stupid homophobic jackasses seem to think differently." Kurt sighs, and flinches somewhat as he dabs the cut gently. "I'm fine, though, Brittany. It's just a small cut."

Brittany shakes her head. "I don't like those people. They say that me and Santana are stupid for kissing in the hallways. Why aren't I allowed to kiss Santana? I like kissing Santana. Her lips taste like candy…"

Kurt grins. "I know. There are some very bad people at our school, Britt. They don't like seeing Blaine and I kiss either."

Brittany nods sadly and then perks up as she recollects her former exchange with Santana. "Hey, Kurtie!"

Kurt looks up. "Yes, Brittany?"

"Will you pretty, pretty please re-join the Cheerio's?"

Kurt frowns, stopping in his movements. "What?"

"San and Becky don't get on and they keep fighting and I just know everyone'll feel better with you there. You're a special dolphin. Everyone loves you. And you could really bend. There aren't many boys on the squad who can do that."

Kurt grimaces. "I don't know."

"Please? I'll tell Blaine all the right spots that make you moan- Did I ever tell you how sexy your moan is? If I didn't, know that it is very sexy. Amazingly so."

Kurt blushes. "I don't think that'll be necessary, Brittany. Blaine knows exactly all the right spots… and more."

Brittany smiles and hugs the boy. "Please, Kurt? Join the Cheerio's again? For me?"

Kurt smirks. "…I did like the uniform."

Brittany smiles. "So you will?"

"I'll have to speak to Blaine, first." Kurt contemplates. "I'm not sure. I'll make my decision by tomorrow."

"Thank you, duniphin." Brittany kisses his cheek once again and heads towards a cubicle.

Kurt throws away the tissue he was using to clean his cut and ponders what he should do.

Blaine rushes towards the couch, yanking Kurt's hand with brazen yearning. He loves the moment when both he and his boyfriend can just give up on school and bullies and just love each other, with no-one around to ridicule them. His kisses are a blend of the faultless combination: fast, slow, rough, gentle. He can't resist Kurt Hummel.

The best thing (and also the most exasperating) is that Kurt knows this fact as well.

He tugs on Kurt's tie, forcing the older boy to land on him and wraps his ankles around Kurt's, trying his hardest not to disrupt the exquisite make-out session the two are currently involved in.

Kurt grins fondly at him, and pulls away to take a breath. "You taste like caramel," he says and places a finger in one of Blaine's curls, twisting it around and making Blaine let out an extensive, passionate groan. "I love it."

Blaine smirks, placing his hands on Kurt's hips and raising his own, causing Kurt to let out a wanton moan of desire. "Good," he murmurs seductively, his face virtually ridiculously close to Kurt's own. "You taste like… rotten apples?"

Kurt whacks Blaine's chest delicately. "Trust you to ruin a perfectly good moment."

"Oh, oh, it is rotten apples!" Blaine wrinkles his nose. "Kurt, as much as I dislike the smell, is this… a new deodorant? And if it's not, then please tell me what happened. You know I don't like you getting hurt."

Kurt frowns. "But I thought we were going to have sex?" His face turns red as he finishes the sentence and Blaine laughs.

"I thought you'd gotten over that word."

"Shut up," Kurt jokes and impishly shoves Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine closes his eyes and Kurt observes as his favourite Blaine smile fades off of Blaine's lips, alternatively displaying a solemn and apprehensive teenager. "What happened, Kurt?"

"It wasn't too bad," Kurt utters selflessly, caressing a finger down Blaine's arm. Right here, right now, whilst they are alone, is the only time the two are permitted to touch so intimately. Kurt's not going to let any moment go to waste. "Just a few, stupid bullies who decided that tossing me into the dumpster was an awesome decision and well worth their time."

Blaine bangs his head against the couch in displeasure. "I can't believe them- how dare they touch you, I mean, you can obviously look after yourself in a fight but… Why do it? To you? You're the sweetest and most empathetic person I've ever met." Blaine sighs, turning to Kurt and kissing him particularly lightly. "You don't deserve it."

Kurt shrugs. "No-one deserves it, Blaine. Not even Rachel, and she wears those goddamn awful kitten sweaters."

"I don't know, Kurt, I kind of like the sweaters."

Kurt scowls at Blaine. "I wouldn't say that ever again if you value your bowties and gel, Mr Anderson."

Blaine presses his lips to Kurt's neck, biting softly and Kurt whimpers. "Sorry," Blaine says slowly, "but if you take away my bowties and gel, I'll stop nibbling your neck… And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Kurt laughs and pushes him away. "Au contraire, Blaine. The only thing I would miss are the cuddles."

Blaine snickers. "You're endearing."

"So David told me." Kurt replies. "You're quite the little charmer yourself, Blaine."

Blaine gazes intensely at Kurt. He prods Kurt's chest as he copiously enunciates the words. "I. Am. Not. Little."

Kurt beams and just shakes his head with admiration. "I don't know how I was so lucky in getting you."

"It was your bitchy ways, Kurt." Blaine quips. "You captured me with your sarcasm and talented wit."

"Hmm, I always did have a talented tongue."

"Maybe you could put that tongue to good use?" Blaine waggles his eyebrows and Kurt snorts.

"Never do that again."

"Oh, come on, I felt sexy." He repeats his actions, causing Kurt to burst into frantic laughter.

Kurt finally calms down and gets off the couch, gesticulating for Blaine to choose his side. After Blaine gets up and sits down on the left, Kurt sits on the right, slanting into Blaine's shoulder and exhaling leisurely. "I'm so tired," he hums.

Blaine strokes Kurt's hair sympathetically, loving the sensation of Kurt's soft hair beneath his fingertips. "My little Blaine is not too tired? He seems excited to see you."

"You are incredibly awful," Kurt complains, though he is smiling broadly at his boyfriend. "Honestly, Blaine."

"Come on, Kurt, I'm seventeen."

"Barely."

The two sit in relaxed quietness for a few minutes, and Blaine very nearly doses off to sleep in the comfortable, silent room. Kurt, on the other hand, bites his lip as he recalls the cut on his leg. He doesn't want Blaine to have any reason to worry about him. He loves Blaine, but the boy can be a bit too overprotective sometimes.

Kurt finds that exceedingly charming.

Thinking back on the day's events, Kurt recalls Brittany talking to him in the bathroom. "Duniphin," he drones softly, so as not to wake Blaine.

Too late. "S'what?"

"Duniphin," Kurt repeats a bit more loudly, so that Blaine can understand him. The younger boy shifts and yawns marginally, then changes their position so that he is now leaning on Kurt. Kurt places an arm around him and Blaine huddles nearer.

What? He loves being embraced. Especially by Kurt.

"It's just something Brittany called me earlier. I have no idea what it is." Kurt smiles tenderly. "Oh, that reminds me! She had a proposition for me."

"Really?" Blaine asks in curiosity. "And what would that have been?"

"She wants me to re-join the Cheerio's."

Blaine splutters. "Re-join? You mean… You were on the Cheerio's before? How did I not know about this?"

Kurt blushes. "I didn't want to overwhelm you with loads of information. Besides, don't you think it's more fun to learn about each other gradually? It makes our relationship stronger."

Blaine pecks Kurt's cheek. "I like the way your brain works."

"So, I'm just wondering about whether I should go back." Kurt says tenderly. "On one hand, I had an absolutely unbelievable time when I was on the squad. I had solo's and duets, Blaine. It was incredible."

"Your voice is amazing." Blaine agrees. "And so are your dance moves. You know how much I like a private performance…"

"Blaine!" Kurt laughs. "You are ridiculous sometimes, honestly."

"Oh, but your hips were just born to ride, weren't they, baby? Because I can see that with those hips you're going to ride the Cheerio's the bus to Nationals."

"I can't-" Kurt breathes out good-naturedly, a smile tugging on his lips. "That one was terrible, Blaine. It didn't even make any sense."

"It did in my head," Blaine answers delectably.

"Hmm, but the uniform did feel really nice." Kurt muses. "I mean, it showed my ass off great, which is always a good thing. It's just… it waspolyester."

"Polyester looks good on you." Blaine reassures him. "I'm sure that I could help you look even better, though."

"Oh?"

"I… could take… the uniform off?" Blaine tries weakly and then bursts out laughing. "Oh, you're right. I do suck."

"Yep, you do. You suck my cock like a professional."

"KURT." Blaine laughs. "I never believed you would say anything like that."

"I'm just channeling my inner Sebastian Smythe," Kurt shrugs his shoulders and winks. "It's not hard."

"Not yet, anyway." Blaine smiles and Kurt smirks cunningly at him.

"I did rather enjoy singing that Celine Dion melody in French for fourteen minutes… and the routine was incredible. Coach Sylvester may be an extremely terrifying, and rather disturbing, villain that only exists in children's stories but… She is good."

"I say you join." Blaine tells him meticulously, placing his hand gently over Kurt's. "If you're a Cheerio, you'll be protected from everyone and everything at the school, right? No slushies, no dumpster tosses, no whatever else people try and do to you normally. It'd be good for both protecting you and me."

Kurt grins mischievously at Blaine. "You just like the uniform."

Blaine nods his head. "It is rather hot. And red's a nice colour."

"I personally prefer blue, but I do have a slight love for red scarfs."

Blaine mutters. "If you re-join, I'll buy you all the red scarfs you want. That's a promise."

Kurt grins. "Okay, then… You've helped me convince myself. I'm going to speak to Santana and Brittany tomorrow, accept their offer. Though if they try to make me wear a skirt-"

"-You're going to need a skirt?" Blaine asks, eyes full of lust.

Kurt blushes at the passion of his stare. "I… guess I could ask for one?"

"Yes, yes please." Blaine nods and Kurt simply laughs.

"But I'll only ever wear it around you. There's no way I'm going to school with a Cheerio's skirt on."

Blaine smirks. "Hey, who said anything about you being the one to wear it?"

Kurt pulls Blaine towards him and kisses him once more. "Who says I didn't want to wear it?"

Blaine's voice is ragged. "Maybe you better ask Santana for two skirts, then."

"Done."