[FIC] Carry Your Shame: Blaine Interlude (17.5/25)

Rating: NC-17

Beta: Laura aka- gottriplets <3

Warnings: First time sex, blow jobs, exhibitionism, sexting, gay sex all around- the usual :) 

Summary: Kurt’s spent his entire life being pushed around and ignored. He’s never had a single friend until he met Blaine Anderson, a swimmer for the National Team and McKinley’s Golden Boy. When the boys fall for each other, Kurt has to learn the hard way that there are some things even love can’t fix—like the fact that his step-brother and boyfriend are mortal enemies. Will Blaine be willing to give up everything to be with Kurt or will they crumble under the pressure to become what everyone else is trying to turn them into? 

This was written for this GKM prompt, so go check it out and possibly leave me some love <3

Part 1//Part 2//Part 3//(Blaine interlude)//Part 4//Part 5//Part 6//Part 7//Part 8//Part 9//(Blaine Interlude 2)//Chapter 10//Chapter 11//Part 12//Part 13//(Blaine Interlude 3)//Part 14//Part 15//Part 16//Part 17

Carry Your Shame Playlist (organized by chapter)

*Side note- anyone looking to track this, it will always be tagged as “Fic: Carry Your Shame”

****

Blaine cursed his father often. Every time he made a comment under his breath about his sexuality. Each time he scheduled a private swimming session and Blaine had to cancel plans with his friends. Every time he was forced to endure a lecture on how hard he would have to work if he wanted to achieve anything in life, he cursed his dad’s name. At the moment though, he was cursing him more than usual due to a serious lack of sleep. 

All Blaine wanted was a day off after pushing himself to the limit yesterday in the gym with Finn. The two of them had gotten involved in a stupid contest of wills as they kept increasing inclines and speeds on the treadmill and ended up spending two hours running until their legs felt like they would fall off. Yet here Blaine was, the very next day, at six in the morning on the treadmill again thanks to his father deciding to pull his coach into a meeting to discuss increasing his training. 

Increasing. As if Blaine wasn’t working hard enough juggling McKinley Swim practice, private lessons and an hour a day in the gym with Finn, his dad thought he needed more time to work out. It wasn’t enough that Blaine had already qualified for the World Championships in Shanghai this summer with five of his events. No, his father was insistent that he make the qualifying times for his other three events, too. He was insistent that he not just meet the qualifying times for the World Championships, but that his times would be strong enough to win. Not place in the top 10—win. 

It was like his dad forgot that he was only sixteen going on seventeen. He was going to be competing against professional swimmers like Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte, not to mention all the international swimmers he would be facing. Blaine wanted to win, sure. He was dedicated enough to work hard at improving his times, so much so that he rarely complained when he had to be up early every morning to swim before school started. He just wanted one day though, one glorious day of vegging out so that his poor, poor legs could take a break. 

Clearly that was too much to ask for. 

“Now you’re showing up early?” Finn asked, walking into the weight room and dropping his towel and water bottle on the bench. “What are you trying to prove?” 

“Nothing,” he said as he continued to run on the treadmill. When Finn continued to glare at him, he just tilted his head to where his father was currently in the middle of an intense meeting with Coach Roz and Coach Beiste. 

“What? Now Daddy is trying to get you out of our lame detention?” Finn mocked him as he got on the treadmill beside him and matched Blaine’s speed and incline level, unwilling to be outran by him. Blaine rolled his eyes. 

“An hour?!” Finn gasped when he saw the time going on Blaine’s screen. “You’ve seriously been here for an hour already? You know that our time doesn’t start until we are both here, right?” 

“Trust me, I’m very clear on the rules of this stupid arrangement,” Blaine grumbled, not wanting to share with Finn the fact that he’d been sentenced to extra time on the treadmill when his father had overheard him explaining to Kurt that Finn had almost bested him on the machine. He’d tried to tell his father that they’d been running for two hours and it didn’t mean he wasn’t in excellent shape but his dad would hear none of it. If he couldn’t out run a kid from school, how was he supposed to out swim everyone in the world? 

“So why is your dad here?” Finn asked, after they’d been running in silence for ten minutes and his dad didn’t show any signs of coming out anytime soon. 

“He wants our sessions to be harder,” Blaine explained. “He thinks I’m slacking off now that my time in the pool’s been cut back in order to work out with you.” 

“Eye’s always on the prize,” he said sarcastically, not realizing how true his words really were. 

“I’m not going to place at World’s or qualify for the Olympic Team by eating Fritos on the couch every night,” he said, subtly digging at Finn. 

Finn glared at him and they resumed their workout in silence. Blaine was still annoyed that they’d been banned from bringing their headphones into their workouts. Apparently this time was supposed to be spent talking to each other and working through their problems. As if that was even a remote possibility. 

His dad finally emerged from the office with a smile on his face about halfway through his workout with Finn. He walked up to Blaine’s treadmill and checked his stats before bumping the incline up another level. Blaine wanted to groan as he his thighs were already screaming at him, but he kept it to himself. His father would murder him if he showed any signs of weakness, especially in front of Finn. 

“What’s your heart rate?” he asked. 

Blaine looked down at the heart rate monitor he wore when working out. 

“170,” Blaine answered, already knowing what his dad was about to say. 

“That’s rather high considering you’re not even running that fast,” he chided. 

“Do you want me to go faster?” Blaine asked, praying that he wouldn’t say yes. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it to the hour mark as it was. 

“No, no,” his dad shook his head. “Your trainer said to aim for 170. I just figured you’d be in better shape than this.” 

Blaine could see Finn’s eyes bugging out. They were already running on speed 8, the machine only had 10 speed settings and Blaine had already been at it for 95 minutes.  Finn didn’t understand—this was what it took to be an Olympian. This was what it took to find acceptance in his father’s eyes. 

“Coach Roz agreed to open the pool an hour earlier for you so you won’t lose any time now,” his dad explained as if this was the best news. “I told her you’d be in every morning at 5.” 

“Sounds great,” he said, trying not to sound ungrateful so his father would just leave already. 

“I’ve got to get to work,” his dad said. “Don’t forget that you’ve got another private session at 7 tonight.” 

Once his dad left, Finn turned his head to give him a look that said he thought the whole exchange had been crazy. 

“When do you have time to do school work?” he asked. 

“I guess it’s lucky that no school’s going to be accepting me because of my GPA,” Blaine said, inwardly cringing. He didn’t want to be another stupid athlete that relied on his sport to get him anywhere in life. He didn’t want to be one of those people that couldn’t keep up in social conversations because his entire life education revolved around aerodynamics in water and calculating swim times. 

Finn was right, this new schedule had taken away all of his studying time, but it would be worth it in the end. When he finally got put on the Olympic team and he could see the look of pride on his father’s face. When he could write his ticket to any university he wanted, it would be worth it. He’d study his ass off the second he got to college and would pull back on his training. For now though, this was his life. 

“Must be nice,” Finn said bitterly, mostly likely thinking about how he’d never get a football scholarship when the football team at McKinley could barely win more than two games a season.  

“You don’t have to go to school for football,” Blaine explained, feeling oddly generous all of a sudden. “You’re a decent performer. If you practiced more and took up dance classes, you could probably get a dramatic arts scholarship.” 

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, turning off the treadmill once it beeped that their hour long sentence was up. 

“What do you mean?” he countered, confused about what he meant. 

“You’re going to start giving me shit for being in Glee Club now?” Finn challenged. 

“No?” Blaine said. Was this kid on crack or just that dumb? He’d been trying to be nice for a change. Yet again, Finn smacked his attempts to be friendly down. He didn’t know why the administration thought they could ever work things out. 

“Never mind, just forget it,” Blaine finished, storming off towards the locker room to get ready for school. His legs felt like Jell-O and he was dizzy because he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet apart from a granola bar on the drive over. He couldn’t admit that these sessions were wearing on him physically though, not unless Finn crashed first. He’d never hear the end of it. 

To Kurt:

Please tell me he goes home at night and cries about how sore he is.

Blaine sent the text off and immediately put the phone in his locker and hit the showers. He’d been texting Kurt so often in the past two weeks that he already knew his schedule by heart. Currently, Kurt would be driving to school and since he refused to text and drive, Blaine knew he had about fifteen minutes before he could expect a response. 

Right on time, just as Blaine was finishing up gelling his hair, Kurt’s response came in. 

To Blaine:

The school’s magic plan to make you besties isn’t working out then?

To Kurt:

Don’t even.

Just tell me he feels pain and that he’s not a robot.

To Blaine:

You didn’t hear this from me, but he borrowed my bath salts yesterday and took an hour long soak because he was so sore. ;) 

To Kurt:

Thanks.

To Blaine:

Have a great day at school!

He let out a deep sigh, wishing Kurt could be here at McKinley with him instead of all the way at Dalton. It was positively unfair that Blaine had to paint on a brave smile every day and deal with the bullying alone when there was somebody out there who would understand all his pain and frustration perfectly. Kurt was his best friend and his rock. He didn’t know how to be brave without him, yet he was being forced to figure it out on his own. 

It all started when Kurt left. Finn began shoulder-checking him in the hallway and saying rude things under his breath about staying away from Kurt. He’d even had some of his friends throw him into the dumpster for good measure. Jackson and his friends had taken to shoving him into lockers hard enough to bruise in retaliation for the beating Blaine had given him on New Years. It was obnoxious and hard to handle while also dealing with the pain of Kurt leaving, but he’d managed. He always had a witty retort and he knew the swim team was giving the footballers just as much shit as they were giving him. 

Then the entire school found out he serenaded Kurt at ‘that gay school’ and things had started to change. It took him awhile to understand why. They’d known he was gay before, but being a nationally ranked swimmer that ran with the popular crowd gave him protection. It changed people’s view of him. He was gay, but he only slept with older college boys and men in their twenties. He got drunk and convinced all the straight boys from school to fool around with him. He was acting on his sexuality, yes, but it had been done in such a dominate way through their eyes that it was excusable.

The second he serenaded Kurt it was basically a red flag to the rest of the school that he wasn’t who they thought he was. He wasn’t some guy who let other’s go down on him in the bathroom. He didn’t bend college boys over the table and fuck them rough and hard. Of course, Blaine had never done those things anyway, but it was obvious that’s what everyone assumed of him. No, the second he admitted his affection for Kurt, the tide had turned against him. 

It was the stupidest thing in the world. As if there were levels of being gay and he somehow stepped over the line from acceptable to disgusting.

Now Blaine had to deal with almost daily slushies. He got to deal with crude drawings on bathroom stalls of him being gang banged. Even the most well-meaning of classmates would ask him if he really let Kurt Hummel, of all people, top him. Because singing a song to a boy meant he had zero power in a relationship according to his peers; he was essentially Kurt’s lapdog. He was constantly being mocked and those were the manageable days. On the bad days, he would find himself being pushed to the ground and spit on. He was shoved into lockers. He’d even been locked in a port-a-potty and had it tipped over. 

Every time something like this would happen, Blaine would think of Kurt. He’d think of how much he wanted him there to comfort Blaine. Then he’d remember why he wasn’t there, because Kurt had been bullied and Blaine hadn’t helped him. Nobody had helped him and he’d been forced to transfer schools and hook up with some obnoxious Enrique Iglesias wanna be. 

Now the most Blaine could ask of Kurt was for friendly texts back and forth and occasionally hanging out on the weekend when he wasn’t busy with his boyfriend. He couldn’t complain though—he shouldn’t complain. At least Kurt was talking to him again. 

The school day passed relatively event free, which was a miracle in Blaine’s eyes. There had only been one run-in today. Jackson had knocked his lunch tray to the ground and Blaine had been two seconds from taking the plastic tray and bashing the jock’s face in when Puck had dragged him away. That had been it and for Blaine, that meant it’d been a great day. 

He was practically skipping to the locker room to get ready for practice when his good mood was ruined with a single text. 

To Blaine:

Evan’s going to join me on Saturday for your big meet. You two can finally be friends! Isn’t that great?

Blaine was smart enough not to send back a lengthy text on all the ways that most certainly wasn’t great. He wasn’t an idiot. His time with Kurt was limited and their friendship was still tentative. If Evan was the guy Kurt had given his heart to, Blaine didn’t think he could change his mind. In fact, he was pretty sure if he voiced his true opinion of Evan—if he told Kurt that he thought he was a controlling asshole—it would only drive Kurt away. 

As much as it sucked to see Kurt with somebody else, he was going to have to put up with it on his own and pray Kurt came to his senses eventually and took Blaine back. Until then, Blaine was just going to have to be the best friend there ever was and prove to Kurt that he was worth it. If that meant acting like he was happy Evan was coming to his swim meet, he’d do it. 

It annoyed Blaine though. They hadn’t been able to hang out since they’d decided to try being friends again. Every time they found time in Blaine’s busy training schedule to hang out, Evan would pull Kurt away from him. The horrible thing was Blaine didn’t even think Kurt realized it was happening. He’d been looking forward to Saturday because it had been the one day Kurt swore up and down that they would hang out and now he would have to share Kurt with him

To Kurt:

Can’t wait!

Blaine stashed his phone away and headed out to the pool before he could change his mind and beg Kurt not to bring Evan. If he was going to have an audience this weekend, he was going to make sure he didn’t just win (which was a given seeing as he was the only high school swimmer in the state and one of only a few in the country to qualify for the World Championships); he was going to post his best times yet. He was going to shatter the State record he’d set last year, the one nobody could come close to touching.

He’d like to see Evan compete with that. He knew how attracted Kurt was to his body. He’d spent several sexy nights with Kurt listening to how the sight of Blaine in his Speedo, dripping wet made him hard. He also knew Kurt was turned on by success and determination. If Evan wanted to come to his swim meet, that was fine. It wasn’t going to stop Blaine from playing every card in his hand. He was in love with Kurt, and while he promised he’d never vocalize those feelings again as long as Kurt was dating somebody else, that didn’t mean he couldn’t try and hurry their breakup along. 

****

The morning Blaine woke up and realized he had the State Championships; he was tempted to crawl back in bed and never leave. He’d been dreading this day ever since the high school season had begun, it meant that today was the last day he’d be with his McKinley teammates. After today’s meet, Blaine would increase his training and go back to competing on the national and international circuit. He’d have to rejoin his team in Dublin, all the way on the other side of Ohio. He was dreading it. 

The United Swim Association had been the team he’d grown up competing with. After his first gold medal with the YMCA when he was six, his father had enrolled him in a more competitive program and he’d been with the USA ever since. It was the team he’d competed on when he’d made the Jr. National Team. It was the team he competed for when he attended the Jr. Pan Pacific Championships in Hawaii this summer and had taken home four gold medals, three silver and one bronze. His coaches were more than qualified to coach him through the upcoming World Championship in Shanghai. It wasn’t the coaches he was dreading, it was his teammates. 

They were brutal. The intense competition between everyone was horrible and he always got the worst of it because he’d always been the best swimmer they had. He was going to miss the days of swimming with Mike, Puck and Sam because they were fortunate enough to always be genuinely supportive of one another. It was only for the summer though, he reminded himself. Come next November, he’d be allowed to go back to competing with McKinley again. Thank God for small miracles and his father agreeing to let him swim for his school team for half of the year.

His dad knew how much he hated training in Dublin and was surprisingly understanding about it all. He arranged it so that Blaine would only have to drive out to train at the team’s aquatic center three times a week—Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. He paid Coach Roz to train Blaine every morning at school and had a private trainer for the other nights of the week. It sucked to have to train alone, but it was better than dealing with kids tripping him in the locker room in hopes that he’d break his arm and be unable to compete. 

No, today was not a day that Blaine was looking forward to—especially now that Kurt was bringing a date to their date. He really wasn’t looking forward to being the third wheel when they all went to dinner tonight to celebrate his win. However, if that was the price he had to pay to hang out with Kurt, then he would pay it a million times over. That’s how badly he needed Kurt in his life. Kurt made all the shitty things he dealt with on a daily basis much more bearable. 

“Are you ready for your big meet?” his mother asked him when he came down the stairs to grab breakfast. He set his duffle back by the front door so they could leave as soon as he finished. 

“It’s only a State Championship,” his father answered for him. “He should be more nervous about the Michigan Grand Prix next month. Not a lot of chances left to qualify for your other events.” 

“I’ve been working really hard, I’ve got all my times down to qualifying time already,” he explained, hoping his dad would let it be. While his freestyle time had never been an issue, he had struggled all year to get his breaststroke times down and it had affected his ability to qualify for World’s with his 100m and 200m Breaststroke as well as his 400m IM. 

“And I keep telling you that you can’t be satisfied with just qualifying,” his dad chastised him. “If you settle for qualifying, you’re never going to be able to compete with Olympic medalists.” 

“Okay,” his mother interrupted them before his father could really get going. “We’ve got to get going if Blaine wants to make it on time.”

Blaine was happy his father had opted to come later in the afternoon after prelims were over. He didn’t want to deal with him for the entire two hour drive to Canton. He was even happier that Angeli was going to come to the meet, which meant he would get to spend the two hour drive laughing with his mother and aunt as they spoke in Tagalog and kept his mind off of swimming. 

His mother was always so much more enjoyable when his dad wasn’t around and she didn’t have to cater to his every whim. In fact, she made it through the entire drive without one of her patent sighs, even though Angeli spent the drive asking him questions about Kurt. In fact, she seemed just as invested in his answers as his aunt was. 

Once they got to the school where State was being held, his mom and Angeli left him with a hug and ‘good luck’ while he headed around towards registration to meet up with the rest of his team. The guys were almost all there by the time he caught up with them and were just waiting for Coach Roz to get back from checking them all in. She liked to be the one to get everyone registered and ready to go so she could be certain of lane numbers and event times. 

“You’re Blaine Anderson,” a little boy came up to him, tugging on Blaine’s sweatpants. 

“Yes, hi,” Blaine said, with a big smile. He was used to little kids coming up to talk to him at this point. He’d been to enough events with the Junior National Team to be used to the attention. He didn’t often get young fans at his high school meets, but that didn’t mean this was the first time this had happened in front of his McKinley friends either.

“What’s your name?”  Blaine asked, kneeling down to be at the boy’s level. 

“Riley,” the boy said shyly. “My mommy says you’re going to be the best swimmer in the whole world soon.” 

Blaine ignored his teammates playful snickering behind him and focused back on the little boy with a toothless smile. 

“That’s very nice of your mom,” he said kindly. “Do you like to swim?” 

He nodded enthusiastically, reminding Blaine so much of himself when he was that age. “We came to watch you.” 

“His older brother is competing with Allen East today,” a woman, presumably his mother, came running up to pick the boy up. “I’m sorry if he was bothering you.” 

“He wasn’t,” Blaine said quickly. 

He honestly didn’t mind. He remembered being that little and looking up to all the older swimmers at his meets and wanting to be just like them. He remembered how special he felt when those swimmers would acknowledge him. Shit, just this past summer he remembered freaking out after Natalie Coughlin came up to him to congratulate him after one of his first place finishes. He didn’t feel like he deserved the attention most of the time, but his mother always reminded him that it wasn’t his place to decide that. 

“Will you sign my arm?” Riley pushed up his sweatshirt and held out his arm for Blaine. 

“Riley, don’t bother the poor boy,” his mother chastised him. “He’s got a meet to prepare for.” 

“I don’t mind,” Blaine said, pulling the sharpie he used to write down his lane numbers and times out of his pocket. 

‘To Riley, just keep swimming, Blaine Anderson <3,’ he wrote neatly. 

“Thank you so much,” his mother said with a kind smile. “He saw you swim at the Pan Pacific Games this past summer and he couldn’t believe you were from Ohio. You’re his favorite swimmer.” 

“That’s really sweet,” Blaine said, smiling at Riley. “I hope you enjoy the meet today.” 

Riley and his mother said thank you and walked away. 

“That’s very sweet,” Puck mocked him, jabbing him in the ribs. 

“Shut up,” Blaine said, blushing. He always felt awkward whenever people came up to him like that in front of his friends. He didn’t want them to feel like he thought he was too good for them or anything. 

“You realize you don’t get paid to do that right?” Puck laughed, good-naturedly. “You aren’t technically a pro swimmer yet.” 

Blaine opened his mouth to retaliate, but found he had nothing to say, so he just stood there shaking his head and trying not to turn bright red. 

“I’d ask you to sign my arm, too,” Mike teased him. “But I’m going to wait until you’re at least on a Wheaties box.” 

“Hardy har har,” Blaine said and smacked them all in the chest, causing them to break into a playful wrestling match until Coach Roz appeared to break them all up. 

He was going to miss having them around to calm his nerves at meets for the next few months. 

All through warmups, Blaine couldn’t help but scan the stands for a glimpse of Kurt. He knew that he told him not to bother coming until finals started later in the afternoon, but he was still secretly hoping Kurt would ignore that in favor of watching him swim all day. As the boys lounged around in sleeping bags and blankets in the hallway they’d sequestered for themselves, he couldn’t help but keep sneaking back to peek through the doors and see if Kurt had shown up yet. 

“He’ll be here,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes the third time Blaine claimed he had to go to the bathroom. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

Blaine grumbled but sat back down and resumed playing cards with the guys. He couldn’t help but look back to his watch every few minutes and count down the time until his first heat started. The second the minute hand pointed to eight o’clock, he was up and moving down the hall to get in line for his first event. 

He saw Kurt and his boyfriend walk in hand-in-hand and take a seat up in the stands. While the thought of Evan being here and holding Kurt’s hand in the way Blaine desperately wanted to was discouraging, he couldn’t help but feel more excited now. He had to restrain himself from jumping up and down and waving like an idiot. He was sixteen, not six. He had to at least appear cool. He didn’t need Kurt to see just how desperate he was for his attention. 

Instead he opted for a quick smile when Kurt waved as he waited to take his place on the block for his 50m Freestyle. The few minutes he had to wait before he could step up to take his turn were always the worst for him. While this was only a State Championship and Blaine didn’t have to worry about anybody swimming fast enough to catch him, he always had to worry about his time. It was in these few minutes that he always let the self doubt start to get to him. It was in these moments that he was grateful for Kurt showing up, if only so Blaine could look up in the stands and have a healthy distraction from his thoughts. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Kurt’s gaze zeroed in on him, clearly only listening to his boyfriend with half-interest. This was going to be a good day. 

After all of the first heats were over, there was a fifteen minute break as the prelim schedule was finalized and everyone’s current placements began to get posted. Blaine made his way up into the stands to say a quick hello to Kurt, ignoring his mother and Angeli’s knowing smirks. 

“Hey,” Blaine greeted them with a big smile and pulled Kurt into a hug, ignoring Evan’s glare at him for only bothering to throw on a pair of sweatpants. If Blaine purposefully put off grabbing his shirt until after he’d talked to Kurt, well that was simply an accident…

“Couldn’t slow down and let anyone else feel like they stand a chance here,” Kurt teased him. Blaine missed being able to see his bright smile. He’d completely forgotten how it had the power to put his stomach into nervous knots. 

“No use giving them false hope.” Blaine shrugged. Kurt and Blaine both knew that posting anything but his best times at a meet would result in an argument with his father, not that Blaine ever wanted to slow down. He might not be as intense as his father, but he was still a competitive person and was inclined to showing off sometimes—especially when the boy he loved was in the stands cheering him on. 

Kurt’s eyes lingered on him a little too long, causing Evan to clear his throat. 

“Blaine, you remember Evan,” Kurt said, blushing profusely. 

“Of course,” Blaine said, forcing himself to remain cheery. “I’m glad you could come keep Kurt company. These meets can get a little boring sometimes.”

“Maybe if you’re straight,” Kurt teased. “Evan and I have been ranking all the boys on how effectively they rock a Speedo.” 

“Do I want to know where you ranked me?” Blaine said with a charming smile. 

“That’s confidential information,” Kurt said with a wink only he could see. Blaine felt his heart jump, but he managed to mask his excitement and remain calm. 

“I’ve got to get going,” he said. “We’re still on for dinner tonight?” 

“Of course,” Kurt said with a nod. 

“Perfect,” he said, unable to keep the giant grin from forming. “It was nice to see you again, Evan.” 

Blaine couldn’t help but smirk at the glare Evan sent his way. If he was affecting Evan this badly, clearly Blaine was something worth worrying over. It gave him hope that all was not lost. 

“Could you try and be less obsessed with Hummel?” Puck said with a roll of his eyes once he met up with everyone again in the hallway and grabbed his warmup jacket to throw on. 

“You don’t understand,” he said.  

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Puck said then raised his voice several octaves and batted his eyelashes like a girl. “You’re going to marry him one day.” 

“Yeah,” Blaine said with a love struck sigh. “I really am.” 

****

By the end of the day, Blaine took home gold in all of his events, which wasn’t surprising to anyone. What was surprising was how oddly satisfied his father had been with his times. It was the first time since last summer that his dad hadn’t criticized him in some way or the other. Blaine was practically floating on cloud nine by the time he got to dinner with Kurt and Evan. 

He was pleasantly surprised by how easily the conversation flowed between the three of them. He had been expecting things to be stilted and awkward, but they hadn’t been. Evan actually had a lot of smart things to say about Prop 8 and while he couldn’t quite keep up once Kurt and Blaine got to talking about the Oscar issue of Vanity Fair, he really enjoyed Major League Soccer and Blaine was happy to discuss Spain’s World Cup win with him. 

The whole time they were discussing soccer, Blaine couldn’t help but notice how happy Kurt looked. He would glance between the two of them and smile, like the thought of them being friends was the best thing in the world. While Blaine still felt insanely jealous  every time Evan would grab onto Kurt’s hand or rub his shoulder, he had to admit Evan wasn’t so bad. In an ideal world, he thought Kurt should be dating him, but if he had to be dating somebody else, he guessed Evan wasn’t horrible. 

He should have stuck with his original gut feeling though, because all those happy thoughts on Evan went out the door the second Kurt went off to the bathroom and left the two of them alone. 

“Listen Gimli,” Evan said, dropping the smile the second Kurt was out of sight. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you’re going to lose.” 

“Okay,” Blaine responded, confused, slightly amused and not remotely sure where this was going. 

“I know you think you’re hot stuff with the gold medals and tiny Speedo, but Kurt wants more than just sex out of a relationship. Your reputation preceeds you—I know you’ll never be able to give him more than quick blow jobs in the backseat of cars,” he said without an ounce of tact. 

“Did he say that to you?” Blaine asked, curious where this was coming from. Had Kurt told Evan about their past relationship? Had he said Blaine was only good for sex?

“No,” he said with a laugh that sounded anything but amused. “He thinks I believe him when he says you two were just friends.” 

“And how do you know we weren’t?” Blaine challenges him, liking him less and less every second. 

“I have my sources,” he explains mysteriously. “And if you think you can just waltz into my school and serenade my boyfriend, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Does Kurt know that he’s dating a psychopath?” 

“Wanna try telling him and see if he ever believes you?” Evan asked so condescendingly. 

The thing was, Blaine couldn’t even argue with him. He was sure that Evan was telling the truth. Kurt wouldn’t believe him, not after the Academy Award winning acting Evan had pulled off all through dinner. Shit, even Blaine had believed Evan actually liked him. How stupid of him. 

“I’d love to watch him kick you back to the curb where you belong,” he finished. 

“What’s your deal?” Blaine asked for lack of anything else to say. 

“I want you gone,” he said. Simple enough, direct, he had to respect that. 

“But you just said I’m not a threat to you,” Blaine challenged him. If he was going to back him into a corner like this, then Evan would see Blaine wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. He could give it right back as good as he got. 

“If you think you can win this, go ahead and try,” Evan sneered. “I’ll make your life hell.” 

“And if you think I’m going to be intimidated by your Latin flare and mask of lies, then you clearly haven’t done you’re research. I’ll fuck you up before you even lay a finger on me,” he said, dropping the game and going right for the throat. He didn’t do well when under attack, but he’d certainly learned how to defend himself.  

“What are you guys talking about?” Kurt came back from the bathroom before Evan could respond. 

Perfect, Blaine thought. He was satisfied he’d been able to have the last word. He raised his eyebrows at Evan, daring him to tell Kurt the truth. 

“Soccer,” Evan lied effortlessly. Blaine wondered how often he must lie to Kurt if it could come so naturally at this point. “Though you didn’t tell me Blaine liked football, too, baby.” 

“Yeah,” Kurt said with an excited smile. Happy that the two of them had found something they had in common—if he only knew. “I mean, he’s not too crazy about McKinley’s team but he likes the college teams well enough.” 

“You know, I’m really glad we did this,” Evan said, giving Kurt a kiss, his eyes on Blaine the entire time. Blaine wanted to reach across the table the pull them apart. This guy was such a manipulative little tool and Kurt couldn’t even see past it because Evan was too good at playing whatever part he needed to. 

“I think Blaine and I have come to an understanding. Right Blaine?” he challenged.  

Blaine caught the evil glint in his eyes, but Kurt was too busy looking at the dessert menu to catch it. 

“Yeah,” he sneered. “I understand you perfectly.” 

Evan smiled, but if he thought that meant Blaine was going to back down, he was sadly mistaken. This meant war. 

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