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Post by KURT HUMMEL on Jan 24, 2012 21:20:31 GMT -6
  Kurt’s gaze lingered on Brittany’s swift hands as she mixed the drink, his eyebrows rising for a moment. ”You’re really good at that.” He spoke, honestly wondering how she remembered the recipes. Kurt was constantly reminding her about how to tell her left from right, or which textbook she would need for the class they were sitting in. How could she remember drinks? He merely shrugged and held his hand out, taking the drink from hers. ”Mhm,” He hummed loudly. ”I’ll come and find you on the dance floor later, alright?” Dancing with Brittany didn’t seem like much fun to him at the moment. Probably because having a girl in his face wasn’t too appealing. He looked back over in Blaine’s direction and bit the inside of his bottom lip for a moment. Blaine was dancing with Santana now. Kurt felt a twang of jealousy pick at his chest for a moment; even though they weren’t grinding up against each other like a few other couples around the room, they were still close. And Kurt didn’t like it. But Kurt didn’t have control over Blaine, so he forced his gaze back on the drink in his hand.
He sloshed the thick liquid around and sighed. ”Here goes nothing,” He thought out loud and brought the cup up to his lips. God, it smelled awful. He scrunched his nose up and gulped a third of the drink down, sputtering the whole way. ”Damn!” He wheezed out after his coughing fit was over. ”I wasn’t expecting that. Geez, Britt.” While wincing, he shook his head and turned back to Blaine, who was now a lot closer to Santana than Kurt remembered. He grimaced a little and coughed once more before downing the rest of the drink and began to march over to Blaine, tossing the cup over his shoulder as he walked.
Kurt slowed his pace considerably and turned the other direction, suddenly losing the courage he had built up to go and pull Blaine and Santana apart. He settled on speaking with Rachel for another quick moment. She was standing close to the bar again. He reached out and grabbed another pre-made drink before realizing who Rachel’s gaze was trained on. Jesse. Gross. He took a sip of the new drink and hoped Jesse saw the slight snarl that flashed across his features as he looked the boy in the eye. ”Yeah, her drinks are… they’re the best.” His head pounded a little and he was losing his train of thought. With another sip of the beer, he realized that Jesse had walked closer. ”I’m… I’m just going t- I’m gonna go over there.” He pointed across the room and sent one last grimace in Jesse’s way, gulping down a mouthful of the drink and admiring the way it stung as it poured down his throat.
Kurt sulked down and made his perch on the stage floor, sitting down on the cold surface and letting his legs stretch out in front of him. He had a clear view of everyone, much to his dismay. He wanted to hide behind the couch – maybe behind the counter – and drink everything Brittany would mix for him. About a third of his beer was left in his cup, so he finished that off quickly. He noticed the stereo sitting somewhere behind him – he couldn’t tell how far or close it was – and clumsily stood up to change the song. He wasn’t a fan of whatever the hell was playing, and Rachel gave him permission to switch songs… right? He couldn’t remember. He shrugged and grabbed a CD which had fallen to the ground. Using his shirt, he dusted the back of the CD off and ignored the “Who turned off the music!” and “What the hell, Hummel!” shouts from behind. He was having a shit evening already and decided that he could change the song if he wanted. As he turned back, he yelled something along the lines of ”God, shut up! That song was horrible, and I’m switching it.” In a grumpy, croaky voice that very much reminded him of the one time he caught strep. His lips twitched up to a smile when he realized the song. Well, he couldn’t place the song. But he knew it was Lady Gaga.
He stood at the edge of the stage and leaned against the wall for a few more minutes, his gaze not able to tear away from Blaine and Santana. He frowned deeply and swore he felt a few tears run down his cheeks. Honestly, he couldn’t feel anything at the moment. He turned his face to the wall and wiped the tears off furiously, forcing his obviously drunken self to suck it up. Blaine was suddenly in front of him, and he jumped in surprise. ”Santana can be a little overwhelming..” He caught before forcing his feet to hold all of his weight, instead of the wall. ”Santana can be a bitch too.” He closed his mouth before slurring about how she liked to dance with boys who clearly were not hers, and how she needed to get a goddamn life and stop dancing with the guys he liked. Instead, Kurt folded his arms over his chest.
”Sorry I haven’t been around for awhile, it’s just…”
Kurt frowned. That’s all that Blaine had to say? He thought ”sorry” would fix everything? Kurt’s features twisted up in disgust and he looked down to Blaine’s shirt; not able to look him in the eye. ”Y-You think… sorry is going to fix this? That’s all?! I cared about you Blaine, I fucking cared. I got with Sam because he made me feel like I-I was actually worth something for once.” He frowned deeply. Was that the only reason he was with Sam? Because he felt worthless without someone at his side? No. He refused to think that. ”I.. I love Sam. And I don’t know what your deal is, maybe you can’t accept it, but I’m done with calling you and trying to… hang out on the weekends. “ He knew the alcohol was getting to him now. He realized how close he was to Blaine, the boy could probably smell the drinks on Kurt’s breath. ”The fact of the… the fact of the matter,” Kurt slurred. ”Is that you don’t give two shits about my feelings any more, and…” He looked into Blaine’s hazel eyes now. ”I loved you, but you just wanted to-to be my mentor. Mentor! Of all things, Blaine. God. I’m done fantasizing about that, because it’s never going to happen, and I’ve just got… got to accept the fact that I’ll never get a happy ending.” His arms crossed over his chest and he turned his face away from Blaine.
What was going through Blaine’s head anyway? Kurt didn’t understand what he did. He didn’t understand why Blaine wouldn’t return his calls, texts, or emails. He didn’t understand anything right now.
What was he thinking? Blowing up on Blaine like that – like some ignorant jerk. Kurt almost made a run for it – out to his car. He could drive home safely, His house was only a few streets away. He looked to Blaine’s lips, not wanting to catch the sadness in his eyes. Blaine showed his emotions so easily sometimes. Kurt hated it. He walked forward and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder hesitantly, feeling like he was going to puke. What was he doing? Resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder after blowing up and telling him off wasn’t smart. Puking on Blaine’s shoulder wasn’t smart either, so he pulled back. ”Shit, I feel sick. I didn’t-“ He shook his head furiously and tried to apologize, but jumped back when a voice spoke up behind them.
”…has the hobbit wedged his foot in his mouth again?" [/b] His head snapped up and he glanced around Blaine, spotting one of the twins. ”What are you—what? No. Blaine just- You know my sex life is nonexistent, Ethan. Evan. Whoever the hell you are.” He pushed the two boys aside and walked back to the stage, plopping down on the floor and weaving his fingers through his hair, wanting to scream. God, it was hot. It was too hot. He peeled off his cardigan and tossed it aside. [/blockquote][/size]  THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY ARRO AT CAUTION 2.0
TAGGED; everyone! WORDS; 1000ish |
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Post by BLAINE ANDERSON on Jan 25, 2012 6:58:39 GMT -6
“Santana can be a bitch too.”
The bottom of his stomach clenched and anxiety needled his heart to a faster pace. So that was how this would go. Kurt wasn’t merely annoyed; he was furious and very, very disappointed. Blaine fought the urge to run away, remembering that he’d brought it all on himself. What if he couldn’t fix it?
He’d fix it.
He’d keep calm and at least make a start on fixing it.
The alcohol was definitely not in his favor. Even if Kurt wasn’t going to forgive him, he’d have preferred not to hear a tirade about Sam, as much as he deserved it.
“I cared about you Blaine, I fucking cared. I got with Sam because he made me feel like I-I was actually worth something for once.”
He bit back an angry “What, so you don’t care about me now that you have him?” because he knew that that wasn’t what Kurt was saying (even if he wasn’t sure what Kurt was saying). At least one of them had to make an attempt to actually listen for this conversation to work. Instead, he said, “I think you’re worth something. You know that.” It was a passable cross between “I care about you more than he does” and “Sweetheart, you’ve always been worth more than everyone in this whole damn town.” It came out a touch more exasperated than he’d intended.
“I... I love Sam.”
Blaine flinched. He hadn’t expected the l-word or the subsequent surge of jealousy constricting his chest. He really, really wanted to make a comment like, “Really? Have you told him yet or was that just the red plastic cup talking?" and he didn’t know when his subconscious had gotten so cruel. Especially since Kurt would probably be devastated if he woke up the next morning and recalled that he’d first admitted to being in love while drunk, of all things—and there he went, caring so much about Kurt and wishing he could just stop…
“The fact of the… the fact of the matter…is that you don’t give two shits about my feelings any more…”
That hurt. It clung tenaciously to the record for the most painful thing anyone had ever said to him, and for some reason, he scrolled through his sizable bank of poor experiences with the human race and made comparisons. It trumped his parents’ willful ignorance of how much of a mess he’d been before his transfer, and it easily bested every grade-school friend who’d forgotten his name wasn’t hey, faggot. No matter what came out of their mouths, he hadn’t failed any of them. They’d failed him. But he’d failed Kurt, and that dug and twisted in an entirely unprecedented way.
Somehow, he’d managed to be achingly, overwhelmingly in love (God, was his subconscious calling it love now? He didn’t know what to call it, but he’d have done anything for Kurt…) and giving in to one selfish fucking impulse had convinced Kurt he didn’t even care. And Kurt was so, so wrong, but he'd always had that fine streak of vulnerability when it came to his self-esteem...
He just wanted to insist that it wasn’t true, because really, nothing could be further from the truth, because Kurt meant everything to him, and couldn’t he see that, and did it really all come crashing down the one time Blaine couldn’t be the strong one…and it hurt and god, was he going to spend his life finding new ways to hurt? He ended up vastly underestimating how upset he’d become.
“No, I don’t know how to deal with this, okay? Please stop rubbing it in my face,” he snapped, finally breaking. His volume increased steadily, uncontrollably, voice raw and sincere and furious and maybe a little pleading. “Jesus, yes, I’m sorry, Kurt; I’m sorry it’s hard caring about you and…knowing I’m going to screw up, and I’m sorry it hurts to think about you with another guy!” He broke off, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration before he realized what he’d said. “Shit.” Well, as love confessions went, that could have gone…better. Now he sounded like a jealous asshole. God, he’d only wanted the right to feel pain without letting someone down. Still breathing hard from shouting, he parted his lips and expelled a long rush of air, wishing he hadn’t lost his temper.
He couldn’t stop being angry quite as easily as he’d like, but at least he could control it now, could keep his voice soft and level and just firm enough to plow resolutely over whatever Kurt was saying. “I’m sorry and that has to be good enough because I don’t know what the hell else you want me to give you.” Because you love Sam.
“…and I’ve just got… got to accept the fact that I’ll never get a happy ending.”
“I—what?”
His body processed it first: tiny pinpricks of cold on his arms like a fine layer of frost, spreading and sinking in. He stared, eyes as wide as “terrified,” but unable to tell whether he was actually frightened. He couldn’t know or tell or determine anything because whatever whirred away incessantly inside his head had suddenly jammed. Maybe it was trying to protect him from something that would hurt a whole lot when he processed it.
He just gaped at Kurt, so, so cold and unpleasant and mildly ill all over, and his mouth functioned on autopilot, “Kurt? I-I don’t understand.” His voice sounded small. Cautiously controlled. Hoarser than normal. He crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes searched Kurt’s face, pleading for another explanation. You’re pathetic, his inner voice interjected, and he thawed where the realization trickled and stung.
Kurt loved him. Used to love him. And the revelation just felt like a sharp kick in the hollow place where his stomach used to be.
Bullshit, he’s drunk. You can’t take that seriously. He blinked his eyes, still wide and injured and completely, unnaturally dry. (Did being seventeen suck this much for everybody?)
Kurt leaned against him and he stiffened, wondering numbly if maybe he should do something with his arms, except they didn’t work at the moment.
“Shit, I feel sick. I didn’t-”
The part of his brain that remembered how to want things wanted so badly to be okay enough to raise a hand and touch Kurt’s hair—but he wasn’t even remotely okay enough. He’d messed up far worse than he’d guessed, and now Kurt needed someone to fix him. Someone competent. Someone he loved. No, nothing was remotely okay. For an instant, he thought about wrapping his arms around the other boy and maybe saying everything that way because he really had no idea what Kurt wanted him to say. (I thought that was what you needed. I worked so hard at not wanting you for so long because I wanted to keep you safe, and I wanted to be good enough for you, and I wanted to be sure, and I wanted…) But Kurt was pulling away as soon as he’d had the thought, and wasn’t that just the way things worked between them…
“…has the hobbit wedged his foot in his mouth again?"
When had the twins (well, twin, but he assumed the other one wouldn’t be far) gotten here? Had he let something about this party slip or had Rachel finally taken to Facebook and spread the word to everyone? He didn’t necessarily mind having two people who actually knew him better than Kurt in the room, though. He supposed he ought to be thankful that all the McKinley students were either too drunk or too wrapped up in their own drama to walk over and chew him out for yelling at their teammate.
“Yeah, yeah I have,” he cut in swiftly, because for some reason, Kurt had started to defend him and he really couldn’t handle that right now. He didn’t resist as the other boy pushed past him, turning to watch him go.
"I think I covered everything of import, maybe I missed something, what do you think, Blaine?"
“No, you got it,” he deadpanned without shifting his stare from Kurt’s retreating back. He couldn’t really bring himself to be annoyed with Evan for the ill-timed teasing about Sam but wondered idly how much he’d overheard. He recognized dimly that he was still fuming—mostly at himself—somewhere underneath the shock and confusion and resisted the sudden, savage urge to go kick something as hard as he could. And underneath that was the familiar, fascinated thrill in the pit of his stomach as Kurt tugged his sweater off, shirt clinging to his torso, just as uncontrollable and even more unwelcome than a week ago. How was he supposed to feel all of this at once and stay sane?
He forced a tone of polite indifference and began to rattle off an attempt at small talk. “Did you ever meet Kurt’s boyfriend? He was at Sectionals last year. He’s definitely something.” He could hear the edge to his voice growing. “I guess they haven’t got a sex life, though. Thank God.” He exhaled, hard and fast and ragged, then turned abruptly to Evan. Looking at a friendly face made composure much more challenging. “I’m so stupid.” He pressed his face into his hands with a frustrated sigh.
WORDS! 1,559
TAGS! The twins, I guess, but St. Berry definitely still have their thing going too, haha.
NOTES! ...Totally unedited. Epic Kurt post was epic; it hit me with a muse, and I had to write this all in one sitting. Until five in the morning when I still have homework. Sorry if it's impossible to read, ugh.
INSPIRATION! The Killers: "Mr. Brightside", which I actually put on loop for several hours while writing this.
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution! |
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Post by ETHAN BRIGHTMAN on Jan 26, 2012 14:55:29 GMT -6
Ethan's POV
They seperated at the front door so that he could go get drinks, he took the time to get acquainted with the house as well. Seeing what was on offer, it was to him anyway a pretty basic party with plenty of stuff going on in it. Oh well a party is a party he thought to himslf, this apparently was how the middle class teenagers lived their lives. He could live here with a change or two made to the decor. Something darker than what was currently on offer. He walked into the kitchen with a smile on his face. Seeing that this was the hub of the drinks, he walked towards the counter seeing a rather stunning blond serving plenty of people already he walked around the counter to help himself to their drinks. Once he had their drinks done and ready to go, he turned to said blond, having no idea who she was he smiled, "Hey if you get a minute you should come find us." He said with his biggest smile before leaving the kitchen in search of his second target.
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Evan POV
Evan shook his head and patted Blaine on the shoulder, "If you haven't figured it out like the rest of us, the boys crazy for you." Evan said to his friend. He thought about hugging Blaine for a moment but thought that maybe that would send the wrong message to people around him. "He will come around eventually, if not we can kick his ass for you." He added. "Alice does seem to be kind of dense for someone who is supposed to be smart, sometimes anyway." Evan said to him with a grin on his face.
He'd heard a fair bit of what had been said, he didn't know much about the new boyfriend. Though if previous form was anything to go by, then Kurt had great taste in guys. "He was at sections really, I don't remember seeing any one there, that I thought was his type. At least not from McKinley... maybe I was wrong." He said to him. "What is he like?" He asked. Evan choked back the urge to throtal the pair of them, but he felt for Blaine a bit more than he did Kurt at that moment. "Stupid uh, yeah okay I'll buy that just as soon as you start dating David Karofsky." Evan ssaid to him with a smile. "We can bleach your hair if you like, if you want to try the typical blond look." He added playfully. "I dont think you need it though, your a knock out and the idiot is the guy who just walked away." He said brightly.
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Ethan's POV
Ethan was a little worried, he'd got turned around in the house though he thought that should have been hard to do considering the size of said house. The house itself though seemed to be crowded, where the hell was his twin as he pushed past a couple of people, he pushed away the annoying panic that came with the insecurity of not knowing where Evan was. He sent his brother a text message and took a large gulp of his beer. Much better for now as his iphone went off he took the phone out and smiled at the text message. So Alice had some how managed to hurt wonder boy. Here comes super boy to the rescue he thought. It took him a little while and he was happy when he caught site of his brother and Blaine. He walked up to them smiled at his brother before pulling Blaine into a hug. "Hello gorgous where have you been hiding all of my life." He said smiling brightly.
Rathar than allow Blaine to wallow in the pit of self pity, "Oh thats right, just down the hall." Ethan said with a bright smile. "We need to turn that unhappy look on your face into a smile beautiful." Ethan said to him. He looked at Kurt and shook his head, boyfriend or no boyfriend was the boy mad. Blaine wasn't going to wait forever, if he realised he was making a mistake when it was to late what the hell would the diva do then. "Your drink brother mine, and I am guessing that Blaine here might need one." He said. "The limos out front so you don't have to worry about driving home, if thats why your not drinking." He informed the other boy.
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Post by JESSE ST. JAMES on Jan 29, 2012 17:43:31 GMT -6
 stop there and let me correct it ,[/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
When Rachel told Jesse what was in the drink, he sarcastically thought, would you like some orange juice with that vodka? but didn’t say anything against it. It was no wonder that the taste of it seared his throat with every sip he took, but he knew that wouldn’t last too much longer. This was nothing he hadn’t had before, anyway, and he could handle it.
They danced together for a while, and he felt like he could probably let go and lose himself in the feeling of her moving against him. The way she moved her hips was so hypnotizing. He simply couldn’t resist her anymore; he had to tell her exactly how she made him feel. He had to show her, and show her he would. She eased into his touch when he kissed her, though a small, quiet part of him in the back of his mind whispered that he was taking advantage. No, he wasn’t. She wanted this. If she didn’t, she would be pushing him away by now, and it was confirmed when she said that she loved him, too. ”Good,” he smiled into her skin before pulling back to get a better look at her. Sure her eyes were a bit misty with the effect of the alcohol they had both consumed, and he felt it, too with the clumsy way they stumbled together as they moved, but there was definitely love there, too.
He leaned in to meet her in a sloppy kiss, yes, she was his, and that was a fact that was not about to change, but she pulled away too soon. ”Wha…?” he wondered as she slipped out of his arms. But he noted her sly grin, so when she ran he followed. ”Don’t think you can get away so easily!” he called after her, the sound of her laugh running through him like an electric shock.
The good thing about this chase was that they both knew that he was faster. Especially now; it was obvious that he had a better tolerance with the wobbly path she took to get away from him, not to mention that he was generally quicker on his feet. Longer legs or something, since he was a guy. He finally pinned her against the edge of the table, smirking at his victory in having caught up to her so soon. ”Got you,” he growled against her mouth, leaning in to steal a quick, teasing kiss of his own before lifting her up to sit on the table and standing between her dangling legs.
Jesse was really starting to feel the heat now, with Rachel so close and wanting. Her breath fell on his lips in short, soft puffs of warmth and he could definitely taste and smell the drink they shared earlier. Just an inch closer. Not even that, and they would be touching and it would be warm and perfect and just more more morebecause why on earth would they ever want to stop? He could just kiss her and touch her for the rest of his life and be content because she was all he would ever need.
And then she suggested body shots.
Hell yes. Just the thought of it made him shiver in anticipation. The taste of the salt on her skin, the chance to make her squirm beneath him… or maybe she would be doing it to him, and that mental image was just as good. He let out a breathy moan and leaned their foreheads together. ”That might be the best idea you’ve had all night.”
you come along because i love your face , [/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] tagged everyone (well mostly rachel) words 598
outfit (lol idk how to do this) notes finally posted again! Well this has been fun to write when I got the muse for it...
status un/finished template nixxy of CAUTION 2.0
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Post by KURT HUMMEL on Feb 10, 2012 20:05:33 GMT -6
Kurt moved a shaky hand up to run his fingers through his hair, breathing in deeply and attempting to collect himself. Truthfully, he had only been drunk about once before in his life, and it was never something he wanted a replay of. He was either in a horrible mood, or specifically, ended up vomiting all over somebodies shoes. Which had just happened to be Emma Pillsbury, and he felt horrible. It looked like he was taking all of the anger he had bottled up over the past few weeks and throwing it at Blaine, who was probably clueless. Of course, Kurt couldn’t really tell which foot he should pick up first in order to take a few steps right now, so he sure wasn’t thinking about Blaine’s emotions too hard.
”I think you’re worth something. You know that.”
Kurt’s eyes widened a little and he almost tripped over air as Blaine spoke. Dear God, how he wanted to just curl up in a ball and be held by somebody right now. He felt like throwing up, crying, and screaming all at the same time… and that wasn’t a good mixture. At all. Kurt blinked, thinking about disregarding that comment altogether because he didn’t know how to handle replying to it. Of course Blaine meant everything to him. He had looked up to Blaine for so long, and he could spill out so many cheesy comments about how perfect the boy was. But he wasn’t. Because he was drunk, idiotic, and couldn’t sort through his thoughts. Maybe he should’ve taken this a different way, he thought, because crying in Blaine’s arms would be better than sparking up a fight.
No, he decided, he needed this. He needed to yell at Blaine. He needed Blaine to know how shitty he had been feeling for the past few weeks. He needed Blaine to know why he had been feeling that way, and he needed Blaine to know that it was all his fault. Kurt opened his mouth and tried not to spit out ”You’re worth something too, you dumbass. You’re worth the world to me.”, but ended up with ”Well, you are too.” instead. He folded his arms and drew his eyebrows together in frustration because he couldn’t get the words out. Scratch that ~ he couldn’t get the right words out. The right words would be ”You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, even though we can’t be together right now. I was in love with you, and I’m pretty sure that I still am. So why don’t we sit down and try to fix all of this right now? Quite frankly, I would enjoy being your friend again.” But Kurt couldn’t form complete sentences, so that wasn’t happening. Besides, he was supposed to be angry. He wasn’t supposed to be nice about this.
“Jesus, yes, I’m sorry, Kurt; I’m sorry it’s hard caring about you and…knowing I’m going to screw up, and I’m sorry it hurts to think about you with another guy!”
Kurt’s mouth opened and he was pretty sure that his jaw had smacked the ground already, because that wasn’t what he was expecting. He scrunched his face up and tried to prevent the tears. God, no, he wasn’t going to cry He wasn’t going to let his emotions get the best of him right now. ”You-“ Kurt looked up to Blaine in utter confusion, not able to comprehend what Blaine was feeling right now due to the hurt expression. ”Seriously? You’re confessing this now?” Kurt rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and let out a frustrated groan. What the hell was happening? Freshman year, he thought he was the only gay guy within a 200-mile radius of Lima. Hell, even the only one in Ohio. But Blaine Anderson marched right into his life with that goddamn gorgeous smile, breathtaking voice, and the ability to win his heart over. Never, in the past year, did he think that Blaine would reciprocate those feelings. Kurt was used to dreaming aboutc Blaine falling in love with him, but that was as far as it got.
”You’re telling me that you’re jealous?” He took a hesitant step closer to Blaine, close enough to see the slight tint of red splayed across Blaine’s features from blushing or embarrassment, Kurt couldn’t tell which. He pursed his lips and awaited an answer.
Kurt didn’t even know what to do any more. He honestly just wanted to give up and either fill the gap between himself and Blaine and push the shorter boy up against the wall, kissing him senseless. And he would do it, he would. But the ten or so people in the room who could actually hold down a drink or two would take pictures or spread gossip, and Kurt was aware enough to remember not to throw himself all over the Warbler. Instead, he breathed in a few times, counting the seconds that passed and tried to bottle his anger up and push it back into the depth of his mind. He tried, but he simply couldn’t. All he could do was cry.
Honestly, what was he supposed to do in a situation like this? If he were in a movie, kissing Blaine would be the obvious choice. But he wasn’t. This was Lima, Ohio. This was loserville, population: New Directions. They were all losers, and Blaine didn’t need to see him like this. ”I.. I don’t want you to give anything else to me, Blaine. I want all of this to be over, and I don’t want to choose between two guys that I’m in… in love with.” His lower lip quivered and he wondered if Sam was just one of those flings he and Mercedes always made fun of Santana for. Or was Blaine? Maybe he just loved the thought of Blaine, and nothing more. Would Blaine’s lips against his make him shiver as much as he did when it was Sam’s? Would Blaine’s hands on his hips feel better? He wanted to find out; he wanted Blaine’s hands intertwined with his, and he wanted so much more.
”You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” He grumbled quickly, not really wanting to comment any more because he felt like such an ass. Of course Blaine would think that screwing everything up was just default, because that’s what his own father always shoved into his brain. Kurt let a few tears drip down his chin, knowing that his screamfest was hopefully and probably over. ”God, Blaine. You’re not a screwup, okay? You’re goddamn perfect. And don’t think that I’m being sarcastic, because I’m not. You’re the one who told me to have courage and not let shit get to me last year, and I think you need someone to tell you that, because you’re clearly unstable right now. You look like you haven’t slept in three days, and you didn’t even gel your hair.” He lowered his shaky voice considerably. ”We both need help, don’t we?” He chuckled. ”Fuck what I said before, we’re both screw-ups. We’re both messed up right now.” He bit his lip, realizing he was blubbering now. He needed help, he really did.
”Kurt? I-I don’t understand.”
He shook his head slowly and shifted his weight to his right, instead of his left, wishing he could sit down. How could he tell Blaine? How could he manage to articulate his feelings right now, when he was still drunk and angry with the world? How could he tell Blaine what he had been wanting to tell him for the past few months, at a moment as messed up as this? ”I’ve been hiding my… feelings, I guess… since you serenaded that idiot last year. Jeremiah.” He whispered, barely audible. He was so dizzy right now, and he really did need to sit down. He still refused to wrap his head around the fact that Blaine might have actual feelings for him right now, because that wasn’t something he could manage to think of.
”I need another drink.” He muttered, wanting to lean into Blaine’s embrace. But it wouldn’t be there, he knew. Blaine’s embrace wouldn’t be there for him now.
Once he was seated across the room, he stared over at Blaine and the twins. Both had appeared, and he wondered if he was seeing double. Sparing himself of the pain that came with looking at the Warbler, he laid down and pressed his face against the cool stage, wanting to fall asleep.
THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY ARRO AT CAUTION 2.0
TAGGED; everyone! WORDS; 1369 |
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Post by BLAINE ANDERSON on Feb 15, 2012 6:51:26 GMT -6
( would you tremble--if I touched your lips? )
WOULD YOU CRY IF YOU SAW ME CRYING? W O U L D Y O U D I E F O R T H E O N E Y O U L O V E ?
O H , H O L D M E I N Y O U R A R M S T O N I G H T- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/size][/font][/center] “You’re telling me that you’re jealous?”
Well, no, he wasn’t jealous; that wasn’t what he was saying at all, he was just… He averted his gaze in an attempt to quell the heat rising in his face. His eyes fell on Rachel Berry and Jesse St. James, and if he hadn’t been blushing before… He focused on wondering how much alcohol he’d need before he did that with someone in front of mutual acquaintances, which would theoretically be inversely proportional to how attracted he was to “someone.” Would that be sufficient to compute the limit as “someone” approached Kurt, assuming his attraction to Kurt was infinite and the graph was exponential? Blaine tried to wrap his head around that, then realized he’d just constructed a reality in which he’d always be drunk and never kiss Kurt. Hey, at least he could integrate to find out exactly how much making out he’d get in before he died of alcohol poisoning.
He bit his lip and waited resolutely for Kurt to realize that he wasn’t going to answer the question.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. Kurt couldn’t start crying. If he ended up making Kurt cry—drunk and over-emotional though he was—he’d never be able to forgive himself. Blaine had to give the other boy credit, though. Kurt was stronger than that. Of course he didn’t cry, but watching his eyelids flutter rapidly and his lips press together was worse. His hand gave a tiny, involuntary spasm, maybe trying to reach out, and he seized the side of his jeans between his thumb and forefinger.
“I.. I don’t want you to give anything else to me, Blaine. I want all of this to be over, and I don’t want to choose between two guys that I’m in… in love with.”
(And it hurt—he couldn’t lie to himself—it hurt that Kurt’s kneejerk reaction to his feelings was to wish they didn’t exist. But choosing between two guys—he could understand that. Hell, he woke up every day wishing he’d been brave enough to choose Kurt.)
“I’m not asking…” he pressed a hand to his face and trailed off weakly. Was that what he was asking? To fight for some sort of relationship? God, no, sweetheart, because I feel like shit right now, and I never want you to feel this bad. I want you to just forget about all this. At the end of the day, Kurt was in love with someone who loved him back, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? “That’s not…you chose; it’s okay…”
Kurt was crying. Jesus, of all the things he’d hoped to achieve in life, “don’t make the boy you love cry” should have been the simplest. I don’t know how to hold you—hell, I’ve never known how to hold you—or make you laugh or get you coffee when I’m the reason you’re miserable. If only he’d mastered the impulse to admit that he was jealous. Kurt would still be angry, would still be confused, but he wouldn’t have that…broken look on his face.
What could he say to fix it? “Just kidding, Kurt, I don’t actually have feelings for you”? But nothing could negate what he’d already said—like meticulously repairing some treasured keepsake broken in a moment of anger only to find that a fundamental piece had been lost, or ground into fine powder.
“Kurt…” slipped out, ache and apology and so much muted love that he almost flinched.
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” Kurt cut him off, but it was alright, because he didn’t know what else to say, just like he didn’t know how to express the vital difference between pity and the ache in his chest.
He stared uselessly at a tear sliding past Kurt’s nose. Kurt had an adorable nose. I don’t feel sorry for you; I am sorry. I feel so resoundingly awful, it’s killing me.
“God, Blaine. You’re not a screwup, okay? You’re goddamn perfect.” Blaine snorted and looked away. (Really? By whose standards? And what the fuck is it good for?) “And don’t think that I’m being sarcastic, because I’m not. You’re the one who told me to have courage and not let shit get to me last year, and I think you need someone to tell you that, because you’re clearly unstable right now.”
“Yeah? Who?” he retorted, more despondent than angry, but dismissive all the same. I’m not exactly reviewing volunteers lining up to tell me to have courage, Kurt; you think I’ve ever said one clever thing I didn’t make up to make myself feel better? And…and this was precisely why he shouldn’t be with Kurt, because it wasn’t okay to need someone like that, was it, and having this one goddamn moment of weakness had torn everything down and exposed him as weak. And maybe it was the word “unstable” that prickled and stung and set him on edge, that hit too close to home and knocked the air from his lungs.
“You look like you haven’t slept in three days, and you didn’t even gel your hair.”
“I didn’t think anyone would care,” he protested, ignoring the larger issue, that edge manifesting itself in his voice. (He’d wanted to say “I’m sober.”)
“We both need help, don’t we? Fuck what I said before, we’re both screw-ups. We’re both messed up right now.” Kurt’s voice trembled, and the irritation dissolved again.
He breathed out, piecing himself back together into a wry smile, shrugging his composure back into place so that Kurt would know he really could be strong when he wasn’t being lazy about it. “I can handle it.” Sometimes, I get self-indulgent and I let myself crash. I bounce right back, I promise. I’d rather focus on you. I promise I can be strong for you. Let me.
So why was Kurt so devastated?—because he used to love me, and I blew it—and he felt himself crumbling again, and he couldn’t move as Kurt mumbled something about Jeremiah into his shoulder, couldn’t respond without his voice betraying him—and he squeezed his eyes shut as Kurt left. Frustration and hurt and exhaustion were all still thrumming at his pulse points, swirling sickeningly in his head.
“What is he like?”
“Who, Sam?” Right, Sam, who’d come up while he was running his stupid mouth again. “He’s—” a better person? a braver person? “tall, blonde, and handsome. Plays football. He opened with “Time of My Life” with the blonde girl over there?” He gestured vaguely to Quinn. “I…guess he’s bi. He—he seems nice enough.” The topic grew more unappealing by the second and Blaine’s gaze fell slowly from Quinn to someone else’s shoes.
“We can bleach your hair if you like, if you want to try the typical blond look."
Grinning, he shook his head and forced a laugh for good measure. “Hey, I’m not that desperate. I still have standards. I know how I’d look with dyed hair.”
“I don’t think you need it though, you’re a knock out and the idiot is the guy who just walked away."
“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” he mumbled, frowning. “I mean, it’s not like I ever told him how I felt. Until right now, and I didn’t even mean to.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just…suck at this stuff. Believe me, it’s probably for the best.” God, what was he doing? His friends didn’t want to talk relationship-issues with him; they were only trying to cheer him up.
He smiled just a little at the twins’ quips, leaning into the hug (Ethan, right?) a bit longer than he normally would have allowed himself. It was a relief just to feel like someone cared. “Hello gorgeous, where have you been hiding all of my life."
He rolled his eyes and laughed, more genuinely this time. “You know where I live. You regularly break into where I live. I couldn’t hide from you.”
He refused the drink as his gaze returned to Kurt, who was now lying, slightly curled at the edge of the stage. “I’d better not. I don’t think you guys have ever seen me drunk, but I’m not at my best without my inhibitions. Last time, I made out with Rachel.” What he wanted to say was that he could really use one, but he had to watch out for Kurt and make sure he didn’t say or do anything else stupid around him. He’d succumbed to pretty much every other selfish temptation already; he could resist that one. It was far too embarrassing to admit, but he had a feeling it was obvious.
Realizing he couldn’t last five seconds before his eyes darted back to Kurt, he excused himself and made his way over to the other boy, clenching his stomach against the horrible feeling of guilt pooling at its base.
“Hey,” he murmured, dropping down to sit by Kurt’s head and reaching out to rub his upper back (maybe he shouldn’t have, but he really wanted to hug him and God, he had to do something.) “I’m so sorry,” he added softly, half-waiting for Kurt to flinch away. “I-I just…Are you okay?” His thumb moved in firm, steady circles on Kurt’s shoulder blade, a cautious attempt at comfort. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I C A N B E Y O U R H E R O , B A B Y
I C A N K I S S A W A Y T H E P A I N
I WILL STAND BY YOU FOREVER
( you can take my breath away ) [/i][/color][/font][/center][/size] |
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Post by KURT HUMMEL on Mar 7, 2012 22:20:10 GMT -6
Kurt balled up his fist and rubbed his eyes furiously, scrunching his nose up as he saw stars. He was probably pressing way too hard but he didn’t really care at the moment. He honestly didn’t really know what to do with himself and that was obvious. Kurt didn’t have Mercedes and Rachel on backup right now because they were both drunk, or he thought, but he had enough pride not to run away and sit in the car until Finn wanted to leave. He sighed and moved his fists down to his side, concluding that he would rather take being thrown into a dumpster of purple slushy right now instead of having to talk with Blaine. That was ridiculous though, because Blaine hadn’t really done anything wrong. I mean, not talking for a few weeks wasn’t so bad, right? His timing was just really shitty though. That was it. Kurt tilted his head down a little and folded his arms loosely over his chest holding his elbows for support and biting the inside of his cheek.
”You chose; it’s okay.”
He closed his eyes and gripped his elbows tighter, searching for an answer that wouldn’t make him seem like a screwup but didn’t sound really idiotic and cliché. He couldn’t really come up with one though, so he just kept his mouth shut for the time being and peered up at Blaine with cautious eyes, trying to study his face and figure out if he was feeling the same dismal emotions as he was. He decided to shake his head in a manner that might come off as I don’t know what to say so I’m shaking my head like I agree, but I really don’t. for a moment and then eased his grip, drawing in a long breath and shifting his balance from one foot to another before speaking. ”If it was okay, we wouldn’t have this situation right now.” He muttered just loud enough for Blaine to hear.
”Yeah? Who?”
Kurt frowned deeply after Blaine said that because a flash of anger and sorrow had drawn up on Blaine’s face for a moment and Kurt had to remind himself that Blaine might also be feeling the same things right now. ”David. Wes. Reed. Your brother. Me..” He let the word hang there for a long moment before speaking up again. ”Everyone deserves a little happiness, Blaine, and you sure as hell haven’t gotten your share yet.” Kurt tried not to sound harsh when he said that at all. He tried to sound sympathetic because that’s exactly what he was feeling, but he couldn’t eliminate the sharpness in his voice so quickly.
”I didn’t think anyone would care.”
Kurt literally threw up his hands at this, just about to give up on the situation altogether. Blaine was like talking to a brick wall right now – he spoke back, at least, but barely said anything. Kurt looked into Blaine’s hazel eyes with a baffled expression. Blaine usually talked of his feelings freely, hinting them and even bringing them up randomly. He wasn’t ever like this. Never. ”You think I don’t care about you? God, Blaine. Open your goddamn eyes and look around! You’ve got support pretty much everywhere now: Dalton, a few people here, and I’m sure you know a few others from everywhere else because you’re so charming and talkative. People care about you, and we don’t like seeing you like this. And I sure as hell don’t like knowing that I caused it!” His voice rose towards the end and he winced.
”I can handle it”
Kurt chuckled a little sarcastically and shook his head, wondering if Blaine actually realized how much of a wreck he looked like right now. ”No, you obviously can’t.” He frowned a little and peered around the room, trying to find out if he had been directing any attention over to the corner of the room which He and Blaine were arguing in. Everyone seemed not to notice, but whatever. He would have questions by the dozen by tomorrow.
As Kurt lay on the stage, he mulled over everything and eventually managed to turn his head away from the curly headed mess that he had somehow fallen a little too hard for. He rolled his eyes and curled himself up in a ball, shutting his eyes tight and trying to drown out the music. He didn’t notice Blaine walking over, of course, because someone had turned the radio up a bit too loud.
”I’m so sorry…. are you okay?
Kurt shook his head and finally let the tears spill, not exactly caring if Blaine saw now because he knew that Blaine knew he wasn’t okay at all. He sniffled and caught his breath after a minute of letting the tears trickle sideways off of his face and onto the floor, liking the warmth of Blaine’s hand and leaning back into it. ”You don’t have to be sorry.” He spoke softly and thickly, scratching a speck of something off of the floor because he was trying to direct his attention to something else. ”It’s not your fault.”
THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY ARRO AT CAUTION 2.0
TAGGED; everyone! WORDS; 857 COMMENTS; sorry that this is
considerably shorter and choppy.. It would be longer, but I really
wanted to get something up for you before I fell asleep. XD! |
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