“The thought of using that shiny, reflective, hard surface you call hair to your advantage has never crossed your mind? Oh, ma cherie. Obviously Throat Explosion is at a much higher level, artistically, but we both already knew that.”
He looked down at Blaine, quite literally, smiling down evilly at his shorter competitor. Jean couldn’t wait to show the New Directions what his show choir had to offer. He wanted to take them down.
“You think you stand a chance that’s precious. And I’m from Montreal. I’m French Canadian. You have read about me from the show choir blogs, no? I grew up with the cirque, all the more reason for you to be intimidated. I float across a stage. Might as well give up while you’re ahead, little bug.”
Ma cherie? Isn’t that how the French address women? Blaine burrowed his brows and canted his head to the side at that before blinking it away. There was no way he’d budge under the maniacal smile/grin/whatever Jean was casting down at him. No way.
“Why would I bother reading about you in the show choir blogs? I don’t think you’re that interesting of a subject to hone in on.” He read every article he could get his hands on about their biggest competitor. Obviously–a small fact of Jean being FAKE FRENCH (or something–Blaine was getting desperate for any kind of way to knock this guy down in his mind so he could speak without stuttering) slipped his mind.
“Precious?” Speaking of French? Blaine suddenly wished Sebastian was here. Anything to have someone with a sharp tongue to have his back. No such luck–he was going solo on this one. Only him and Jean Baptiste. Why’d he go for coffee? “I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s possible for someone with as big of a head as yours to float anywhere. We’re not giving up. OR losing to a show choir group named Throat Explosion. What kind of a name is that anyway?”
Kurt would laugh given another situation Blaine was fumbling around his much, but he couldn’t think of one comment to make none the less bring up a chuckle. When the door was left cracked open Kurt went ahead and shut it while Blaine made his way around. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip – surprisingly not swollen, thanks to there only been two blows to the head in the haste – instead of biting it. “Not home.” He looked out the windshield, eventually at some of the drops of water running down it. Kurt shrugged. “No where else to go.” The only people he might trust with this were few, his last resort would have been Finn if not for home meaning parents, and he didn’t know where the two others lived. He has no doubt none of them would be helpful other than warming him up and keeping their mouths shut but that’s probably all he can ask for right now. Great.
He wants to ask why go through the trouble, but instead he fumbles. “Yours. I don’t… There’s no where else.” He spared another glanced to Blaine then. With a heavy sigh, Kurt drew his knees to his chest and raked a hand through his hair. He’d say more, but only opens and closes his mouth a few times silently.
Nowhere else to go? The idea that Kurt had no one to rely on other than a stranger who bought him coffee and parents he’d rather be avoiding for obvious reasons right now made Blaine’s stomach sink. He wasn’t going to sit there and analyze why he’d have such a reaction for someone he barely knew, however. They had a long ride ahead of them of Kurt was going with him to Westerville. A pit stop halfway at a convenience store would get Kurt what he needed to make due. There was nothing in the car but some Tylenol in the glove compartment would have to do until they got home. “Mine then. But you need to settle in. Try to relax. Get rest because have a drive ahead. I’ll make sure you get home whenever you want. There’s some pills in the glove box. I don’t have anything to wash them down with but if you hurt bad enough? I guess you won’t really care.” He smiled apologetically anyway. Dry pills weren’t the most tasty but they’d take the edge off any pain Kurt might be feeling.
The store was a thirty minute drive by the speed Blaine was driving–thankfully no cops because explaining a ticket to his parents would not be appreciated. Even if he left out he was doing it because there was a beat up guy in his car. Blaine was in and out in a rush carrying two boxes of antiseptic hand wipes, some Gatorade in the flavor mint green–they all tasted the same. Crackers, donuts and other items he hastily snatched. All of them were placed on Kurt’s lap in a plastic bag. “I got whatever. Probably some things that make no sense too.” Deft fingers flicked the overhead light on. He rustled through the bag grabbing the wipes and turned to face Kurt motioning him near. “Come here a second. Please?”
Blaine was way excited to get their day started. First? A pitstop to fuel up on coffee. After that? A drive to Cincinnati to go do some real shopping. When Tina’s mom let him into the house–he dashed up the stairs and grabbed hold of the door handle. Unknowing that he was about to make a huge mistake–again–with Tina Cohen-Chang. He flung open the door, scurried into the room–and!! “Hey, T! I hope–!” Was that? Was she? Did he just walk in–yeah he did! “OH GOD!” His hand immediately jerked to cover his eyes. An abrupt turn that was supposed to be an exit was foiled by the pitch black of his palm and squeezed tight eyes and he bounced off the door instead–with his face. “Ooow.” Without thinking–he grimaced over his shoulder at her. Oh! Yeah! Mostly naked Tina in a blanket! His eyes went wide in a silent scream of an apology this time before he covered them again. “Sorry! Sorry!!!” Right back out the door he went–you know–after he managed not to slam into it a second time.
santana: i mean duh
santana: why did you leave so fast anyways?
santana: well yeah, of course, totally.
blaine: Exactly. Duh. Totally.
blaine: Was afraid all the taxis would turn into pumpkins after midnight if I didn’t hurry?
blaine: That’s all. No other reason. Like–Why would there be one?
pianokeysandbowties back up 