I Can See Clearly Now

A/N: Person on Tumblr: Someone needs to write a fluffy Klaine story for this prompt!

Me: Hold my beer…

(See the prompt at the end of the story.)

The first week of school sucks. The first week at a new school when you're a high school junior really sucks, especially when that school is McKinley High.

Such were the thoughts of Blaine Anderson as he entered the halls of McKinley on Friday morning at the end of his first week as a transfer student. He hadn't expected it to be wonderful – McKinley had a reputation, after all – but the fact that it met his low expectations was depressing.

It hadn't taken long for Blaine to figure out the social lay of the land. He had identified all of the standard high school tropes – the jocks, the popular kids, the cheerleaders, the troublemakers. He himself fit into the lowly category of nerd, and did his best to remain as invisible as possible.

He'd been successful the first four days of this week, but it looked like his good luck was at an end. Just before lunch, Blaine was at his locker to switch out his books for his afternoon classes. Closing the metal door, he turned around and nearly ran right into two jocks he'd been avoiding all week – Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams. They were two of the biggest bullies at the school, and Blaine had seen them harassing any number of students over the course of the week. Apparently, it was his turn.

"Happy Friday, nerd!" Karofsky yelled. Time seemed to slow down. Blaine saw Azimio's arm come around from behind his back and he identified one of the infamous slushies in his hand. Just as Azimio's arm swung towards him, Blaine instinctively raised his arm, employing a defensive move he had learned in his boxing lessons. The two boys' arms collided in such a way that the contents of the cup flew directly at Karofsky, with just a little bit splashing back onto Blaine.

Yep, Karofsky had just been slushied.

The three stood still in shock for a few seconds. A couple of nearby students gasped or started to laugh, breaking the moment. Karofsky lunged towards Blaine, screaming, "You're dead meat, nerd!"

Blaine knew that even with his boxing experience, he was no match for the two bulky football players before him, so he did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

Being relatively small worked in Blaine's favor for once. He was able to easily dodge between groups of students in the hall as he tried to get away. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the two large teens behind him struggling to maneuver through the crowds. At the first cross hall, he took a quick right and then dove into the boys' washroom, slamming the door behind him. There was no lock, of course, so he flew into one of the stalls and shut the door, fastening the latch and trying to calm his racing heart.

His pulse pounded in his ears as he waited for what seemed like an eternity. Perhaps hiding in the bathroom wasn't the brightest idea, since he'd be trapped if his pursuers found him. Suddenly, he heard loud voices outside the door – two deep and a third a bit higher. Then, the door opened.

"Hello?" a soft, hesitant voice called out.

Blaine stayed silent, torn between passing out and rushing out of the stall to make a run for it.

"Hel-llooo," the voice repeated in a sing-song tone. "I know you came in here. It's okay. You're safe. I won't hurt you. They're gone," the voice said, echoing against the tiled walls.

With a slightly trembling hand, Blaine undid the latch on the door and slowly pulled it open. He stuck his head out to see who belonged to the disembodied voice, then promptly slammed the door shut again.

Crap. It was Kurt Hummel. THE Kurt Hummel. The most popular, amazing, gorgeous boy at McKinley.

And Blaine had just slammed a bathroom stall door in his face. Ugh. Perfect.

He squeezed his eyes shut behind his dark-rimmed glasses and took a deep breath. He couldn't stay in the stall forever.

Once again, he opened the stall door slowly, and then stepped out. Kurt was still there, looking stunning as always. He was dressed in the tightest black jeans Blaine had ever seen. He had on a soft-looking striped sweater with a suede jacket, and a deep blue scarf was draped casually around his neck.

"Hi," Kurt said, giving a tiny wave.

Blaine bit his lip nervously. God, this boy was beautiful. "Um, h-hi," he stammered out.

"You okay?" Kurt asked, tilting his head to one side and taking a single, measured step closer to Blaine, approaching him like a wounded animal.

"Yeah. Yes, I'm…I'm fine," Blaine answered.

"Good." Kurt replied. There was a moment of awkward silence before Kurt spoke up again. "That was quite a move you pulled out there," he said, nodding his head towards the outside hallway.

Oh, no. Kurt was popular. What if he was friends with the jocks? What if this was all some trick to get him out in the open so that Karofsky and Azimio could get to him? What if…

"Hey, hey," Kurt's voice interrupted Blaine's spiraling thoughts. In his panic, he hadn't noticed Kurt getting closer, close enough now to put a gentle had on Blaine's arm. "Are you sure you're all right? You look kind of pale all of a sudden." Blaine looked into Kurt's face and saw no trace of anger or deceit – just concern and kindness. And blue eyes. The most incredible blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," Blaine mumbled, looking down. "Did…are they friends of yours?" He had to ask.

"Who, those two meatheads?" Kurt asked incredulously before laughing. Blaine looked up at the sound of Kurt's laugh. It was just as melodic as his speaking voice.

"No, Blaine," Kurt continued, his hand still resting on Blaine's arm. "No, they are most definitely not my friends. I am not friends with bullies," he said firmly.

Blaine let out a breath of relief and gave Kurt a small, tight-lipped smile. He was happy that Kurt wasn't angry with him, but it was still nerve-wracking Blaine to be this close to the most popular boy in school.

Kurt seemed to finally realize that he was still touching Blaine, as he allowed his hand to slowly drop from his arm. Blaine felt a warm, pleasant tingle where Kurt's hand had been, and found that he desperately missed the touch.

"Anyway," Kurt said, clearing his throat gently, "I just wanted to congratulate you on avoiding the slushie. Not many people can say they did that."

Blaine blushed and looked away briefly. "It was just instinct, I..I guess," he said, looking back up to find Kurt still looking intently at him. "I take boxing lessons, and it's just like blocking a right hook."

Kurt's eyebrows arched up at the mention of boxing. "Impressive," he said approvingly. "That explains the arms," he added, as if to himself.

"What?" Blaine blurted out, certain he'd misheard.

"What?" Kurt repeated, seemingly flustered for a second and then recovering to his casual demeanor. "Oh, nothing."

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to up my lessons, because those two will be after me for sure now," Blaine grumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck as he realized the gravity of what he'd done.

"They aren't going to do anything to you, Blaine," Kurt assured him, stepping a little closer yet. When Blaine looked confused, he went on, "They aren't my friends at all, but I do have a little...sway, shall we say, here. I've spoken to them. They won't bother you again, I promise. And if they do, you come see me, okay?"

Blaine blinked in disbelief. Those had been the voices he'd heard outside the door before Kurt came in. Kurt had been "speaking" to Karofsky and Azimio – loudly, as Blaine recalled – and telling them to leave Blaine alone.

"Thank…thank you," Blaine answered, tripping over his words again. Seriously, when had he started stammering like this?

Kurt smiled a bit broader. "My pleasure," he said with a formal incline of his head. His glance then traveled down to Blaine's white cardigan. "Oh, my," he sighed, reaching out and touching a spot on Blaine's chest. "Looks like you didn't escape unscathed, after all." He stepped in, very close to Blaine now, and inspected the spot closely.

Blaine may have stopped breathing at that point.

"Hmm, blue. That'll be hard to get out, but you can try," he murmured, fingering the fabric lightly. He then lifted his eyes to look into Blaine's. Blaine swore he heard Kurt's breath catch in his throat with a soft, "Oh."

For the second time that day, time seemed to slow. "You have a little on your glasses," Kurt said, his voice a bit breathy. Blaine began to reach up to remove them, but Kurt stopped him with a touch to his wrist. "Allow me."

Very gently, almost reverently, Kurt reached up with both hands and gingerly grasped the earpieces of Blaine's glasses between his slender fingers. He slowly lifted them from Blaine's face, then lowered them while keeping his gaze locked with Blaine's for a fraction of a second. "Here, I'll just…"he trailed off, turning his attention to the frames in his hand. Blaine watched as Kurt turned them over, then released one earpiece to reach for the hem of his (most likely designer, Blaine guessed) scarf.

"Don't ruin your scarf," Blaine protested quietly. He was met with a quick glance and a shushing sound from Kurt, who proceeded to delicately wipe the lenses with the scarf, polishing them carefully.

"There, all better," Kurt pronounced, holding them up to the light before lowering them back towards Blaine's face.

Oh, lord, Blaine thought, he's going to put them back on me. Blaine was certain that he was about to combust.

With amazing tenderness, Kurt did, in fact, return the glasses to their rightful place. Blaine had closed his eyes instinctively, and when he felt Kurt let go, he opened them back up to find Kurt very near, indeed. It was too much, and he felt himself blushing madly. He looked down and away, overwhelmed with feelings he couldn't name and unable to bear the close scrutiny any longer.

He felt the light touch of Kurt's finger under his chin, urging him to look up. He complied, met Kurt's deep blue eyes once more. "There you are," Kurt said quietly, a small smile playing upon his lips. "You have beautiful eyes, Blaine. I couldn't let them hide behind dirty glasses, now could I?" he said playfully.

Blaine, unable to find words – any words – shook his head 'no'.

Kurt giggled. "Well then," he continued, "we will just have to keep those glasses slushie-free so that your beautiful eyes can shine through all the time."

Holy crap. THE Kurt Hummel was flirting with Blaine. He couldn't help but grin at that, though the heat in his cheeks told him he was still blushing a deep red.

Kurt continued to eye Blaine with a mixture of amusement and something Blaine would later find out was affection. "Do you have someone to eat lunch with today, Blaine?"

"No," Blaine answered, determined to speak but finding it hard to think every time Kurt said his name.

Kurt responded by turning quickly and slipping his arm through Blaine's, tugging him toward the door. "Now you do. Come on, you'll sit with me and I'll introduce you to my friends. I'm sure they're all dying to meet the guy who slushied the biggest bully in school," Kurt laughed. Just before he opened the door, he turned to Blaine. "Is this okay?" he asked, glancing toward their linked arms and looking back up at Blaine questioningly.

This time, it was Blaine's turn to smile. He understood the underlying question, and adored Kurt for asking it. Blaine was out, though, and despite any other social reservations he had, he never hid that. It was a promise he made to himself a couple of years ago after he'd been attacked at a school dance for going with another boy – no matter what, he wasn't going back in the closet.

And if being out at McKinley in this moment meant that he got to walk arm-in-arm with a stunning blue-eyed boy who was not only holding his arm but lightly pressing against his side, then even better.

"Yeah, this is okay…Kurt," Blaine said, pausing and savoring the first time he spoke Kurt's name aloud.

Kurt gave him a peck on the cheek and a proud nod before swinging the door open and walking out into the bustling hallway with Blaine.

By the end of the lunch period, it was the talk of half of the school that Kurt Hummel and the new nerd Blaine Anderson were dating. (By the end of that month, the rumors were true.)

When Blaine got home from school that Friday, he closed his bedroom door behind him and let out a sigh. He touched his cheek, certain that he could still feel the press of Kurt's lips from the second kiss he'd gotten there after school when he and Kurt had exchanged phone numbers. He dropped his school bag on the floor and crossed the room, flopping down across his bed sideways and reflexively adjusting his glasses when they shifted on his nose from the jolt. Smiling uncontrollably, he looked at the ceiling and said, "Best. First. Week. EVER."

A/N: The prompt on Tumblr from wishingonstarsanddaydreaming: "I was mindlessly driving to town today when I had this sudden vision of Nerd Blaine shyly sitting next to Popular Kurt, probably in the cafeteria, and Kurt looks up and notices that Blaine's glasses are dirty so he reaches over and gently removes them from his face (causing Blaine to blush and stammer) and carefully cleans them with his soft scarf, then places them back just as gently. Blaine, overwhelmed, lowers his bright red face down, but Kurt takes a finger to lift his chin so that their eyes meet, and he smiles and says, "There you are."" So, I took it out of the cafeteria and into the boys' bathroom (ew), but there you have it. As I am still not on Tumblr, if one of you would kindly let the lovely prompter know, I'd be much obliged. Be kind to yourselves and to one another.