Blaine rolled his eyes as Sebastian left and Kurt sighed noisily into his coffee.
“So what were you really talking about?” Blaine asked with a wry smile.
“Apparently you’re too good for me and I have a bad case of gay-face,” Kurt pursed his lips and Blaine frowned.
“He doesn’t know anything real about either one of us to make a judgment like that. And you have a bad case of devastatingly gorgeous face.”
Kurt’s lips twitched upwards momentarily but his eyes were still on the table and Blaine cursed Sebastian internally.
“I do worry about the level of internalized self-hatred he must be carrying around for him to consider ‘gay-face’ an insult,” Kurt offered with a decent dose of his usual asperity as he finally met Blaine’s eyes. “But I worry about the other thing too. You are a much nicer person than I am.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Blaine scoffed. “Do we need to go over the list again, starting with the ill-fated Jeremiah debacle and ending with roses and West Side Story?”
Kurt’s smile was a little broader. “I told him he had a face like a meerkat. Among other things.”
Blaine’s eyebrows went up and then he shook his head in mock dismay. “That’s so not true. Meerkats are much cuter.”
Finally, Kurt’s grin broke across his face and Blaine gave himself a mental pat on the back. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here before I get too close to that devastatingly gorgeous face of yours and get us both in trouble for public indecency.”
= = = = =
There was a long moment of quiet when Blaine left the room after blowing up at Sam.
Mike blinked. “I…didn’t even know he could get mad.”
Artie nodded. “Like, who knew his volume knob even went that high.”
Everyone turned to look at Kurt, who simply raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Frankly, I’m surprised it took so long.”
No one seemed to know quite what to say, though Tina and Quinn exchanged a significant look at Finn, who shuffled his feet. “Aren’t you gonna go after him?”
Kurt raised his other eyebrow. “No.”
“Because I’m not captain of the Glee Club, Finn.”
“But he’s your boyfriend.”
“And this is not a boyfriend problem.”
“…So, you think I should go after him?”
Mr. Schuester finally decided to weigh in. “That’s a good idea, Finn. We can’t afford any more dissention this week. I’m sure you can find a way to smooth things over.”
Finn nodded and headed out the door. The rest of them milled about, not making eye contact with Kurt or Sam, who seemed frozen in a silent bubble of their own.
The ice in Kurt’s eyes retreated a little as he glanced at Sam, who still looked a little shell-shocked. “For what it’s worth, Sam, Blaine wouldn’t have said any of that a month ago, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t really his intended target. You just happened to be the tipping point.”
Kurt’s lips twisted, as if he couldn’t figure out whether to be amused or annoyed by his next thought. “Though, for the record, the man who founded ‘The Justin Bieber Experience’ should not be dismissing boy-band choreography.”
Sam dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Maybe not one of my better moments,” he allowed, though whether he was referring to the Bieber phase or the last twenty minutes, no one chose to clarify as they settled in to working out some alterations to Mr. Schue’s choreography.
Several minutes later, Finn stuck his head back in the door. “Um, Kurt? Blaine’s not at his locker, the auditorium, the cafeteria, or the parking lot. Where else should I look?”
“Try the weight room.”
Puck snorted. “Dude, seriously?”
Kurt shot him a look and Puck raised his hands in surrender. Kurt turned back to Finn. “The weight room. If not there, try the track.”
Finn shrugged and left again. Puck was still staring at Kurt.
“Dude, we’re supposed to be bros in here. What do you know that we don’t?”
Kurt rolled his eyes as everyone else snickered. “Oh, Noah, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
= = = = =
“So we didn’t get to talk after you came back to rehearsal, but obviously you worked things out with Finn, then?” Kurt rolled over on his bed and tucked the phone to his ear, relishing the sound of Blaine’s rueful laughter coming through the speaker.
“Yeah. I snapped and he got all round-shouldered and apologized for being jealous.”
“Told you so,” Kurt smiled. “Being captain of the New Directions is pretty much the only thing Finn feels he’s really good at, and he hasn’t yet figured out that you can lead without having to also have all the solos. But he’s getting there.”
Blaine huffed, but there was far less bitterness to it than there had been in the Lima Bean just a day or two before. “Thank you for letting me deal with him. I know you’ve been wanting to jump in on my behalf.”
“Since day one,” Kurt agreed. “Though I was hoping that Finn would come to his senses before you either got to the edge of pummeling him or agreed to let me slice him to ribbons. Because I probably would have regretted that, eventually.”
“You were right about how hard it is to stay mad at him. How does he do that?” Blaine complained. “Because he’s been seriously annoying and now it’s ‘Hey man, what’s that Warbler move with the side thingy? We could totally use that for Sectionals!’”
Kurt laughed at Blaine’s Finn impersonation, which was six times better than any of Sam’s impressions. “He’s like that big hound-dog in Lady & the Tramp. He gets all droopy and you just can’t be angry that he’s knocked the milk off the counter for the fourth time.” Kurt paused. “But I’m glad you two are getting along again. Because, much as I know you can fight your own battles, I’m not sure how much longer I could have stayed out of it.”
“I know, and I love you for it. And I don’t know what you said to Sam, but he was pretty cool when we talked after rehearsal.”
Kurt shrugged even though Blaine couldn’t see him. “Not much. Sam’s remarkably even-tempered for a high-school boy. I guess he’d have to be to be willing to live out of a suitcase in Rachel’s basement for the next month.”
Blaine made a sound that was dismay crossed with pain and fondness—Kurt could just imagine the face that went with it and he chuckled.
“Oh, and you’ll want to watch out for Puck,” Kurt remembered. “He was rather intrigued by the idea that you’d have headed for sanctuary in the weight room.” Kurt considered that for a moment and added, “Hopefully not intrigued the way I was, because that would be a little disturbing. But don’t be surprised if he challenges you to some ridiculous testosterone-filled biceps-flexing contest, or something.”
Blaine’s voice was full of mirth. “What, you don’t think Puck finds boxing tape and sweatpants a turn-on? Wasn’t he dating a wrestler through most of last year?”
Kurt shuddered. “Blaine, I do not need to think about what Noah Puckerman finds sexually enticing. Besides, it wasn’t the tape or the sweatpants. It was the shirt sticking to your back and the way your hair was curling. And the fact that your eyes were so intense, they completely distracted me from how bad the room smelled, even at Dalton, home of the world’s most dedicated janitorial staff.”
“Is that so?”
Kurt could imagine the hopeful eyebrow-bobble that went with those words, and it made him mischievous. “Absolutely. I’ve never seen a janitorial team wield lemon-spray with that much fervor.”
He almost managed to keep a straight face as Blaine laughed an admonishing, complaining “Kurt!” over the line, but gave in and chuckled, then groaned as he caught sight of the clock.
“Ugh, it’s late and I haven’t even started my outline for English for tomorrow, not to mention that hideous lab summary.”
“You did that on purpose,” Blaine’s comic pout was nowhere near as effective over the phone as in person, thank heavens.
“Good night, Blaine. Go practice your ‘Control’ solo.”
“I am pretty excited about that,” Blaine admitted.
“No, really,” Blaine insisted. “It’s a transferring-to-McKinley song.” Kurt felt his face scrunch up and Blaine clearly read his pause for the request for clarification it was.
“I mean, I loved Dalton. And it’s not like there aren’t days I miss it, you know that, we talked about that—but coming to McKinley has all these bonuses. I didn’t get it, last year, when you talked about needing to shout to get noticed, because Dalton was really anti-shouting, metaphorically or literally.”
“But it turns out I kind of—like shouting.” Blaine sounded a little sheepish. “Like I get to be more me, without the uniform and all. Without quite so many rules and expectations. And in the choir room this afternoon—I mean, I still feel really bad about snapping at Sam—but it was also kind of a relief.”
Kurt smiled. “For what it’s worth, I like you out of the uniform, too.”
“Are we back in the weight room again, Kurt?”
“Oh my god. Good night, Blaine.”
His boyfriend laughed. “Good night. I love you.”
“Love you too.” Kurt hung up with a smile on his face. Let Sebastian scheme and smirk all he wanted. Blaine chose Kurt, and McKinley, and neither Kurt nor McKinley would ever give him back.