0.

One of the nice things about transferring to McKinley, Blaine had discovered, was being able to see Kurt around his friends.� It made him love Kurt more, if that was possible, seeing how funny and kind and caring he was, even when he thought Blaine wasn’t looking.

This was one such time.� Blaine, Kurt and half the Glee club were sitting in the cafeteria, finishing up their lunch.� Blaine was wedged between Puck and Finn, who were discussing some sort of reality television program that Blaine had no idea about.� Kurt was next to Finn, and discussing, animatedly, The Breakfast Club, with Rachel.

“I personally always identified with Molly Ringwald,” Rachel said, flipping her hair.� “Popularity and a perfect life aren’t always what they seemed.” Kurt was obviously suppressing an (affectionate) eye roll.

“I always liked Judd Nelson.� I think it was the bad-boy thing,” Kurt said, shrugging.

Bad boy, you say? Thought Blaine. This was new information.

Useful new information.

1

Blaine put his plan into motion almost immediately.� All it took was a few phone calls, a few puppy dog eyes and a promise to his cousin to introduce her to a number of the cuter Warblers.

As was traditional, Blaine and Kurt had a date that Saturday night. Well, they had a date most Friday nights too, and often several more during the week, and sometimes lunchtime dates – but that was besides the point.� Saturdays were when they did the old-school, pick-me-up-and-take-me-out dates, generally alternating who did what.

This week, Blaine was due to pick Kurt up.

He could barely contain his excitement as he pulled up in front of Kurt’s house.� He was sure that Kurt would be impressed.

Blaine bounded – he always bounded, he used to be self conscious about it and the enivitable comparisons to puppies, but in time had come to embrace it – up to the Hummel’s door and rang the doorbell.

Kurt answered the door himself, pulling it open while simultaneously putting on his coat.� “Hi, gorgeous,” he said, kissing Blaine on the cheek before taking a step back and surveying his boyfriend.

“Is that a motorcycle helmet?”� he asked, looking at the helmet in Blaine’s hands.

“Yes,” Blaine said, happily.

“And... leather pants?” Kurt said, slightly breathless.

“Yes, yes they are,” Blaine said.� “You like?”

“I do like,” Kurt said.� “Am I right in thinking that you’ve come to pick me up on a bike?”

“A hog, I think they call them,” Blaine said. “And yes.”

“That’s kind of hot,” Kurt said.� “We’d better go, before my dad sees.� He might not be too keen on the idea.”

“Well, I like breaking the rules,” Blaine said, trying to sound manly and hard.

Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him down the driveway, before stopping stock still as he stepped out of the gate.

“Blaine.”

“Yes?”

“Is that....” Kurt said, pointing towards the bike.

“Your ride for the evening, yes,” Blaine said, grinning.

“It’s... pink.”

“Er, yes,” Blaine said, suddenly feeling like perhaps this wasn’t going according to plan.

“Pink.”

“Yeah...”

“It’s a pink scooter.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not... well.” Kurt said.

“It’s my cousin’s,” Blaine offered.

“I... see.”

“Like the pants,” Blaine continued.

“Just... stop,” Kurt said, before kissing Blaine on the mouth. “Can we take my car instead?� No offense, but even I’m not gay enough to ride a pink scooter.”

**

2.

After the ill-fated motorcycle debacle, Blaine reassessed his plan.� Obviously he hadn’t thought it the whole way through.� Perhaps a pink scooter wasn’t, in fact, the hallmark of a bad boy.� So he pulled out his Breakfast Club DVD and studied it some more, along with the performances of some of the other ‘bad boy’ standards.

So, the next Friday night, after they had been to see a film at the local cinema, Blaine suggested they go for a walk.� Kurt accepted, citing the nice evening weather and the comfortableness of his footwear.

They reached the local park, where Blaine suggested they sit down and take in the view.

Kurt was giving his blow-by-blow analysis of the costuming in the movie – something that Blaine hadn’t actually noticed – when Blaine decided to go for it.� He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Kurt was too busy talking to notice what Blaine was doing until the cigarette was in his mouth.

“What are – “ Kurt said, sounding stunned.

Blaine said nothing, instead just flicking the lighter and lighting his cigarette.

He took a deep inhale.

And nearly died.

His lungs felt like they were on fire, like the smoke was a thousand degrees and burning him from the inside.� He coughed and spluttered and nearly threw up on the ground.� At some point in the violent, panicked reaction, he dropped the cigarette on the ground, where it went out.

After a few minutes, he returned to normal, albeit with tears streaming down his face and a slightly wheezy voice.� Kurt had, throughout the whole ordeal, had been shouting at him, mostly, “what are you doing” and “what is wrong with you” while hitting him on the back, repeatedly.

Now he just turned to Blaine and said, “what on earth are you doing?� You don’t smoke.”

“Er, no,” Blaine said, feeling sheepish, and not at all bad-ass like planned.� “I just thought I’d try it.”

“What’s gotten into you lately?” Kurt said.� “I’m not going to kiss you tonight. Just so you know.”

“I... okay.”

“Gross.”

So, not smoking, then, Blaine thought.� But Kurt liked bad boys, and Blaine liked Kurt, so he had to think of some other way to show off his inner juvenile delinquent.

**

3.

The next Thursday, Kurt was innocently on his way to French when someone grabbed his hand and pulled him around.� Blaine grinned at him for a moment, before saying, “come with me...”

“But... French,” Kurt said, as Blaine pulled him in the exact opposite direction of his class.

“Fu – screw French,” Blaine said.� “I want to hang out with you.� Let’s play hooky.”

“Play ... hooky?� Do people actually say that?” Kurt said, in disbelief.

“Shush, come on, let’s go to my car,” Blaine said, tugging at Kurt and looking furtively around.� He needn’t have bothered, really, as McKinley was understaffed and two honours students walking towards the parking lot was hardly a suspicious site.

They made it to Blaine’s car without being noticed.� Unsurprisingly.

“What’s going on?” Kurt said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted to, you know, do something crazy.� Spontaneous. Against the rules,” Blaine said, trying to wink in a roguish way.

“I’ve never known you to skip class,” Kurt said.

“Well, I never have before,” Blaine admitted, before he remembered he was trying to impress Kurt with his bad-boy-ness.� “But hey, I don’t play by the rules.� I’m – I’m a maverick.� A loose canon. I make my own rules, baby.”

Perhaps, judging by Kurt’s bewildered expression, that was a little bit too far.

“What do you have?” Kurt said, after a moment of awkwardness.

“Physics,” Blaine replied. “We’re doing thermodynamics this week.� Actually, I think we have a text next Tuesday.� Oh god, I bet it will be hard.� I don’t even know all the laws yet.� Have you done Physics? You haven’t, have you.� Maybe I can find someone to tutor me,” Blaine said, suddenly biting his lip out of worry.

“Why are you skipping cl – “

“What if I fail? What if I fail this test, and get kicked out of AP, and then I won’t get into college, and you will, and I’ll be a bus boy and you’ll be a high powered fashion attorney –“

“ – that’s not a thing,” Kurt interjected.

“and it’ll all be because I ... do you think it’s too late to go back? I’ll say I was sick.� Or – I fell over. I was nursing a wounded squirrell back to life.”

Blaine was already pulling the car door open.

“I� have to go.”

“I can see that,” Kurt said, his face a mixture of bemusement and confusion.� “What was the point of all this, again?”

“I DON’T PLAY BY THE RULES,” Blaine said, as he sprinted off towards his class.

Kurt sighed and wondered why he hadn’t noticed that Blaine was a complete nutcase earlier.

**

4.

“Why are we at school,” Kurt asked Blaine as they pulled up to the dark, empty car park.� “First you try to skip, and now you’re taking me here in the evenings. I can’t keep up.”

“Hey, haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like at night?” Blaine said, jumping out of the car and running around to open Kurt’s door, before inwardly cursing himself and remembering that that’s not what a bad boy would do.�

“Not... really,” Kurt said.

“Well, now we can find out.”

“But – how are we getting in?” Kurt asked, sceptically.

“We’ll... break in,” Blaine said, trying to make his voice sound all low and gravelling and naughty.� By all accounts, he failed.

“We’ll break in to school?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah,” Blaine said.� “Come on, it’ll be fun.� And... bad. And illegal.”

He pulled Kurt towards the front doors of McKinley, before holding out a hand and stopping him.� “Stay there, I’m going to, er, pick this lock, and I don’t want you to... have to witness it.� Plausible deniability, and all that.”

Kurt was just staring at Blaine at this point.

Blaine produced a credit card from his wallet, and spent a few minutes jingling around with the lock, before it clicked open, and Blaine pushed the door open.

“Ta da!”

He held the door open and let Kurt step in ahead of him.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Blaine said.

“So it would seem,” Kurt responded.� “But, er, why?”

“We’re young and crazy and we do what we want, right?” Blaine exclaimed.� “We can live it up and break all the different rules and, you know, down with the man and stuff.”

“The man?” Kurt asked.

“The authoritarian man. The – the evil one. Corporations.� The law.� The fuzz.� The – police,” Blaine said, running out of steam.

“Actually, I did forget my English book,” Kurt said thoughtfully.� “Mind if I go grab it?”

“Sure,” Blaine said. “Then we can ... go steal some erasers, or write naughty words on the chalk boards, or something.”

“If.... you like,” Kurt said, and they walked towards his locker.

Kurt was in the process of digging through his locker when there was a noise at the other end of the hallway.

They both turned and looked, Kurt’s face slightly stricken, as they saw the Janitor standing there.

“Hey!” he shouted.

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, looking scared. “What do we do?” he whispered.

Blaine wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m just – getting a book,” Kurt shouted back.� “Then we’ll be on our way!”

“Blaine?” The Janitor said, as he got closer.

“Er...” Blaine said awkwardly.

“Blaine?” Kurt said curiously, turning to Blaine.� How did the janitor know his name?

“I didn’t think you’d be around until later,” the janitor said.� “Can you give me back my key now, or will you need it until tomorrow?”

“His... key?” Kurt said, cocking his head at Blaine.

“Ah, here you go,” Blaine said, thrusting the key at the janitor, his cheeks burning.� Kurt closed his locker at that point, obviously having located his book.

“We’ll just get going,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt.

“Well, have a nice evening, boys,” the janitor said. “Thanks again for the cookies, Blaine! Let me know if you need to use the library after hour again.� The principal has okay’d it.”

They made it out the door before Kurt started laughing.

“What the hell, Blaine,” he said between gasps.� “You pretended to break in?”

“I... implied that,” Blaine said, huffily.� “You assumed.”

“Blaine, you’re going to buy me a coffee, and explain what on earth has gotten into you these last few weeks,” Kurt said.

“Okay,” Blaine said obediently.

**

+1

They were seated at Breadsticks, with coffees on the way, before Kurt finally said, “spill it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blaine lied badly.

“You’ve been acting like a maniac for the last two weeks,” Kurt said helpfully.� “The – the smoking, the skipping school. What are you doing? Is this some bizarre rebellion� against McKinley? Do you miss the blazers and shiny shoes at Dalton?� Are you trying to impress Puck? Oh god, you don’t have a crush on Puck, do you?”

“I – no, of course I don’t, Kurt, why would you even – “

“It just seems like you’re acting like, well, not you,” Kurt said.

“I... okay,” Blaine sighed. “I just... I overheard you saying you liked bad boys and I... I wanted you to like me.� More.� So I thought I would, you know, try. To be a bad boy.� For you.” He was blushing, at this point, which basically shot the last, tiny piece of hope that he was holding on to that Kurt might still find him cool.

“You... you did that for me?” Kurt said, his eyes widening.

“Of course,” Blaine said.

“I thought you were having a breakdown.”

“No,” Blaine said. “I just wanted to impress you.”

“That’s... sweet,” Kurt said.� “Sweet, but incredibly misguided.� I like you for you, dummy. Not – not because you’re a bad boy.� I like you because you’re good and... all that.”

“You do?” Blaine said, with huge puppy dog eyes.

“Of course.� I love you,” Kurt said.

“I love you too,” Blaine breathed, grinning at his boyfriend, feeling a little silly.� “Sorry I’ve been so... weird.”

“It’s cute,” Kurt said.� “Although...” he smiled slyly.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked.

“You know, I do have an idea of what would make you a bad boy... if you were still interested.”� The way Kurt was smiling and fluttering his eyelashes made Blaine suspect that, yes, he was still very interested.

“Oh? Do tell?” Blaine said, leaning in.

Kurt looked around first, before leaning even closer and whispered. “You could always fuck me in the bathrooms.� That would qualify you, I think.”

“I... would like that,” Blaine said, sounding breathless all of a sudden.

“I definitely think Judd Nelson would approve,” Kurt grinned.

“Yes, he would.” Blaine said.

“I’ll go now – follow me in a few minutes?” Kurt said, winking at his boyfriend and he got up.

“Yes, of course,” Blaine said, already hardening in his pants.

He could barely wait the two minutes before standing up and sprinting (awkwardly) towards the bathrooms.� He was pretty good at this bad boy thing after all, he decided.

~fin~