Lantern

Disclaimer: No.

Summary: The power's out and all the Warblers have is a single, flickering light that may or may not be a literary metaphor for one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. Pre!Klaine, hints of nerd!Kurt.

Wes had literally been in the middle of a word when the darkened sky outside lit up with a sizzling crash and the room went dark. Suddenly, the brightest light came not from the generally warm and comfortable practice room but from the tempest outside. Immediately, boys began to shout and Nick's distinctive,

"Holy shit, guys, the lights are out!" and Jeff's shirty,

"No, really? Never would have guessed," could be heard over the pounding and banging of Wes's gavel on the council table.

"The whole building's gone out," David offered, having risen and fumbled his way towards the door, opening it with a click. "It looks like the whole campus is, too. We could try and call someone, but most of the staff is already out for the day. I don't think we're going anywhere for a while." On the sofa in his usual spot, Blaine could feel Kurt stiffen with tension next to him as he was inadvertently jostled by his fellow Warblers, all concerned and all even more anxious than they'd started.

"I can't see a damned thing," Blaine grumbled lowly under his breath as Wes futilely tried for order.

"Hold on, I think I might have something useful," Kurt's voice and the breath against Blaine's ear were unexpected and he jolted at the suddenness, and there was an empty space next to him where the taller boy had left his side. There was a rustling, a clink, and the sound of the striking of a match, and then there was a single light that didn't come from someone's cell phone.

Kurt had positioned himself by the council table, a small blue glass lantern in his hands, lit by a tea candle. It was low and weak but steady, the light casting shadows on his face. Kurt's eyes were dark, and Blaine could see easily the anxiety in his bearing. Whether it was related to not being able to get home or due to storms in general, Blaine didn't have a clue. Nevertheless, Kurt faced them all.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I don't see this letting up, and I certainly don't see myself braving the roads in this, so I'm just going to make myself comfortable over here," his voice carried over the others and silenced them all until the only one heard was him, and as he spoke, Kurt wandered over to an empty space void of tables and seating. Without fanfare he sat down right on the floor, setting his lantern down in front of him. Blue-green-grey met hazel and Blaine found himself getting to his feet and following that light, sitting down next to Kurt and nudging him with his shoulder.

"Aren't you prepared," he commented quietly, and his friend shot him a tiny smile in response.

"I put stock in the umbrella theory, but sometimes it just doesn't hold."

"For now, we'll wait it out here," Wes announced suddenly, sitting down with David on Blaine's other side, "Even trying to make it to the dorms in this would be risky and as council leader, I am staunchly against any actions that might endanger any of you. Of course, I can't force any of you to stay, but I strongly encourage you to stay in here together until this blows over," His tone was firm but his eyes betrayed him, remaining fixed on the windows, dark and wet and impenetrable. Kurt furrowed his brows, exchanging a look with Blaine, who shrugged.

It seemed to settle people down, though, and Kurt jumped when Jeff plopped down next to him.

"What's the umbrella theory?" he asked curiously, and Kurt laced his hands together in his lap.

"Basically, it's the idea that when you carry an umbrella that it'll never rain but that the moment you forget it at home, BAM, deluge. But nothing can be right all the time," he muttered the last bit, focusing on his light. "At least if you subscribe to it, you'll be prepared when stuff goes wrong."

Slowly, every single boy eventually made his way over to them, settling into a loose, amoeba-like circle around that flickering light.

The conversation was low and quiet, barely able to be heard over the almost constant booms outside, and even Kurt was still obviously unsettled, casting quick, concerned glances about the room and over the people around him. Frowning slightly, Blaine reached out and touched his upper arm, surprised to feel the other boy practically vibrating with energy under his Dalton-issued white shirt.

"Hey, what's up?" Blaine leaned to the side and whispered into his ear, "Don't like storms?"

"I don't like it when the power goes out," Kurt answered shortly, "Basement bedroom," That was all he offered before the room lit up from lightning and he jumped, accidentally knocking into Blaine who bumped Wes who bumped David who bumped Trent. "Sorry,"

"No worries, that's why we're all sticking together, right? I like storms and this is kind of freaking me out," Without making a big deal about it, Blaine leaned closer and slung an arm around Kurt's shoulders, patting his arm. He lowered his voice until only Kurt would be able to catch his words, "We should think of something fun to do. I know that Flint gets really twitchy with bad thunderstorms and he could probably stand to get his mind off of it." And so could you, went unspoken.

"Let's play Never Have I Ever!" Jeff exclaimed suddenly, "We might not have booze, but the teacher's lounge is in this hall and I know that Stockton is incapable of existing without at least six twelve packs of coke. Everyone else is gone and this is an emergency and if anyone's really pissed about it, we'll replace it or something."

"This is a terrible idea—" Kurt began before Wes interrupted him, a gleam in his brown eyes.

"I approve. It'll be… Warblers bonding or something."

"Lies," David stage-whispered, "He's just been caffeine-free all day."

"Minion, go fetch the booty," Wes said imperiously and Nick got to his feet, immediately turning around and patting his bum. "Not that booty! Go, go!" Nick rolled his eyes but nevertheless obeyed, returning in minutes with several twelve packs under his arms.

"There's more where those came from, but let's start with these babies. Everyone take one."

"I hate this game," Kurt growled, resigned, reaching out and taking the can, glaring at it as if it had personally offended him.

"Oh, come on," Blaine nudged him, "Just roll with it."

"I'll roll you. Like a katamari."

"I quiver with fear."

"Good, you ought to be."

"Oh my god, if you guys don't stop flirting, the coke won't be the only thing giving me cavities," Trent spoke up, going smug when both boys flushed, "Just for that, I am going first. Never have I ever… been totally, stupidly drunk."

Unashamedly, David took a satisfied swig, as did Jeff and a few other boys. Finally, grudgingly, Kurt raised his can to his lips and sipped.

"Oh wow, wasn't expecting that one. How'd that happen?" Trent asked, and Kurt sighed, crossing his legs to sit Indian style.

"Two words: April Rhodes. The woman told me Chablis would give me the courage to be myself. I was young and impressionable, and in the end I just reeked of alcoholic potpourri and yakked all over the OCD guidance counselor's shoes. In my defense, I replaced them. And I got some admittedly fantastic magazines out of the deal." Kurt smiled wryly, absently turning the can over in his hands, "Embarrassing, though. And that's why I will never be drinking again." With a side-glance, he caught Blaine watching him and shrugged pointedly, raising a brow.

"My turn!" Wes declared, "Seeing as my turn got sniped by someone who may or may not be named Trent. Never have I ever gotten totally, stupidly drunk and then climbed on top of the local CVS and fell asleep."

Silence. Finally, with a gaze that could burn through lead, David took a drink.

"I hate you," he said mildly, "Specifics take the fun out of it. Especially since I have plenty of dirt on you, Wesley, and I will know if you lie."

"Yes, yes, feud of the ages," Blaine interrupted flippantly, "My turn. Never have I ever kissed a girl." Smiling, he turned to Kurt, ready to revel in not kissing girls, only to see him taking a swig along with the vast majority of the other Warblers. "What. What is this? I might have to know the story behind this."

"Only if David spills about getting drunk and going to CVS," Kurt replied quickly, only to catch a smug smile from the dark boy.

"Oh, in time. I want to know about you kissing girls too,"

Eye roll.

"I went through a phase."

Dead silence, and Kurt huffed, exasperated.

"Fine, oh my god. Basically, I was jealous of Finn for being all straight son for my dad, so I sang Mellencamp and made out with Brittany. And wore flannel. That sucked. Think... god, I don't know, butch trucker lesbian milkmaid. I wanted Dad to be proud of me, Britt wanted to have a perfect record of making out with every boy in school. I wasn't fooling anyone of course but it was a cute lie, and Britt was an awesome girlfriend even if I couldn't get into her physically. Super adorable, a little whacked, and a great dance partner," By the time Kurt finished speaking, he'd gone from annoyed to fond, a funny little smile tilting at his lips. "And there you have it. And yes, before anyone asks, definitely gay, no doubt about it."

David was snickering.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. You do realize that tantalizing stories of public school just make us prep school boys more and more curious about you, yes? Somehow, I get the feeling that this game has the potential to reveal very…interesting things about you."

Kurt met his amused face with a steely stare, narrowing his eyes in challenge before raising his can in a mocking toast.

"I'm going this time," he said, thinking briefly, before a smile played across his face, "Never have I ever lied about the existence of The Kings Island Christmas Spectacular." Silence, and then Blaine reluctantly drank, his cheeks coloring.

"You knew?" he accused, and Kurt waggled his finger at him.

"I went to those things, of course I knew. Next time, try that on someone who doesn't live in Ohio." Smugly, he took a leisurely sip of his drink, admiring his handiwork—namely Blaine's fidgeting and bright blush.

"Awww, man, I can't think of anything," Jeff complained, "Um, let's see… I've never, uh, gotten pelted in the face with an icy beverage?"

"Weak, man-" David began, before freezing. Among the laughter and jibes, Kurt was taking a drink, looking anywhere but at Blaine, who had fixed him with a look of shock and sadness. "Kurt?" The slight boy met his eyes before shaking his head.

"Not talking about it," he said shortly. He looked like he wanted to shrug off Blaine's sudden arm around his shoulder again but from the look in the other boy's eyes he hadn't quite realized that he'd done it and Kurt accepted the touch, reaching up to pat his hand.

"Wait, wait, back up," Jeff demanded, "You're not just screwing with us-"

"No, I'm not screwing with you," Kurt snarled, "At McKinley, kids who weren't considered cool got slushies thrown in their faces. I said I didn't want to talk about it, so drop it." His eyes were fixed on his lantern in the middle of their circle and Jeff recoiled at the ferocity in his voice, startled at the sudden show of temper.

"Never have I ever wanted to give Kurt Hummel an interrogation more than I do right now," David's tone was low and deceptively quiet, and he couldn't help the tendril of pride he felt when not a single Warbler drank. Kurt's eyes darted from him to Blaine to Wes and David didn't think that he was capable of looking more uncomfortable than he did right then.

"That's enough, stop it-" Kurt was interrupted by Wes,

"Never have I ever wanted to beat someone over the head with a frying pan in the defense of someone else more than I do right now."

Complete stillness, and Kurt got more and more agitated, shifting completely away from Blaine and twisting his hands together.

"Seriously, knock it off. Just stop-"

"Never have I ever been thrown into a dumpster."

In that instant, Kurt scrambled to his feet, shooting Blaine a bitter, betrayed look that made his eyes flash a sharp green.

"Go to hell, Blaine," he snarled, vindictively downing the rest of his can and hurling it at the wall above the shorter boy's head. Blaine flinched both at the noise it made and the light impact it made with his head, unable to look away from Kurt's face as he continued, "Never have I ever been so unbelievably humiliated in front of people I actually respected before. Never have I ever wanted to say to hell with everyone and risk my butt in a typhoon just to get out of a room more than I do right now. Oh, and before I forget. Never have I ever felt like I was really worth anything more than garbage and you know what? Rehashing it didn't make it feel any better." The words were spat like they tasted bad and then Kurt was out the door like a small whirlwind, the door closing softly behind him with a click like an ending.

For a good while, nobody moved, and then Blaine's brain went Oh shit because he totally just made it sound like he was seriously considering going out in the storm to get away from them and even if Kurt never spoke to him again, he couldn't let him do that.

"I'll go after him," he said without a second thought, "Keep the lantern here, I'll use my phone for light."

"No, take it," Wes objected, picking it up and offering it to Blaine, "I think you'll need it a little more."

Finally, Blaine reached out a hand and took it, the sudden warmth of the glass startling him slightly. The tiny candle inside was more than halfway melted and the boy wondered what they'd do when the flame went out but pushed it out of his mind because Kurt was the priority right now, not his light.

And then he was exiting the room as well.

The hallways were creepy when they were so dark and empty, the storm outside not helping to make the atmosphere any better.

"Kurt? Kurt!" he called, speed walking through the halls because no way in hell was it safe to run with fire, and at the first window he pressed his face up against it, trying to see if he could make out any movement outside that wasn't from the storm. Nothing, though the visibility was so bad that that didn't mean much.

Aside from his footsteps, everything was silent, and a cold had sunk into the bottom of Blaine's stomach.

What was he gonna do if he couldn't find him? What if Kurt did go outside and got hurt? What if he never spoke to him again and in less than five seconds, Blaine had lost his best friend?

"Shit, shit," he muttered, running his free hand over his gelled hair, "Shit,"

Blaine continued to walk, prowling the building with an intensity he hadn't used since being It for hide-and-seek at age seven, shining the light into particularly dark areas and unlocked rooms.

"Kurt!"

Blaine jumped when he heard a scrape of fabric on wood in the hallway to his right and he immediately turned and brandished the lantern into it, casting blue-tinted light onto the dark and unhappy countenance of one Kurt Hummel.

"Holy shit, Kurt. I thought you might've seriously—"

"I'm pissed off, not stupid," the other boy replied, blank-faced. Kurt was sitting on the window ledge and leaning against the glass to watch the storm, his legs drawn up to his chin, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

Blaine came closer, holding the lantern by the little pulled metal handle.

"Well, you found me, and if you're quite assured that I'm not going to make a dramatic exit into the next life, you probably ought to go back to the rest of the guys. They're probably worried about you." Kurt's voice was terse and dismissive and he kept his gaze on the window, and if Blaine had had a little more light, he would have seen the taller boy's fingers clenching into the fabric at his knees.

"I think…we're all a little more worried about you, frankly."

"I'm quite sure that I'm just fine, thank you."

"Liar," Blaine said, coming closer to prop himself up against the wall next to Kurt, running idle fingers over the blue glass in his hands. "…I'm sorry for embarrassing you. I didn't mean to."

"It's hard enough to fit in here without people pitying me. I was doing just fine in getting over everything… I wasn't even jumping at loud noises and stuff as much. I don't need to be protected or defended like a helpless princess because I've done a perfectly decent job of doing it all by myself for my entire life, I don't need anyone else to start doing it now. And especially not because of stuff that they found out because of a stupid game." The hands on his knees clenched harder this time and this time Blaine saw it. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was going to get his hand smacked away before realizing that it'd be worth it even he did, before reaching out to cover Kurt's hands with one of his own, face solemn.

"No one thinks of you as helpless. At least, I know that I don't. But just because you don't need the defending doesn't mean that you shouldn't have it anyway. And I think… that even if it was a bad way of doing it, I think that everyone just wants you to know that you're not as alone as you seem to think."

Kurt remained silent but shifted his body to make a space, haltingly patting it while finally meeting Blaine's eyes. The shorter boy obliged, sitting down where he gestured. Long moments later, Kurt swayed subtly and bumped Blaine's shoulder with his own.

"That stuff… I've left it behind. Or I'd like to think I have, at least for a while. The idea of being pitied tastes disgusting."

"I don't pity you," Blaine said quietly. "I'm sympathetic because I've been there. The idea of you going through that hurts me because you're one of my best friends. And frankly, I admire you for still being able to stand on your own."

Kurt watched him, an unreadable look on his face. Finally, the edges of his lips tilted up in a tiny, wry smile.

"Best friend, huh?"

Blaine furrowed his brows and cocked his head, and Kurt's smile widened slightly, strange and a little bit sad before the taller boy shrugged, rolling his eyes.

"Don't think about it too hard," he assured, rising delicately from where he sat and taking Blaine by the wrist, pulling him up too. "I suppose we'd best go back so that they don't think we've both gone and killed ourselves outside."And then as if it had been his idea all along (And really, who was going to argue with him on it?), he took his lantern from Blaine's slackened hand and began to walk back towards the practice room, the other hand still clasping the curly-haired boy by the wrist.

When they reached the door, he stopped abruptly, looking suddenly anxious and hesitant before leaning forward and dropping a soft, quick-as-lightning kiss to Blaine's cheek that made his eyes go wide and his mouth drop open and his face flush and what in god's name was that all about and when the hell had this happened before Kurt had backed off of him and had swung the door open, effectively closing the connection.

Blaine stood in the doorway, still half-stunned, watching Kurt and his little glass lantern saunter into the practice room, accepting the low apology from Wes and the frenzied tackle hug from Jeff.

His hand rose up to touch his cheek and he smiled, walking forward to follow that blue-tinted light like a moth to a flame.

AN- Yeah, sorry guys, Blaine's canonically kind of dumb as a post until he gets a clue.