Written for Angie/morethantonight on Tumblr

Great Minds (Fuck Alike)

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and blink your eyes open, still in a daze as you take in your surroundings and try to remember how the hell you got here. The images are vague; the last thing you remember is getting your coffee in the Lima Bean and some guy asking you for directions to the nearest copy shop, and after that, everything starts getting really fuzzy really fast, but you think there was a van involved.

Shit. Someone must have slipped something into your coffee and now they are about to cut you up and steal your organs.

You surge up from where you're sitting - only to plop back down again, your head spinning from the sudden motion. It's only then that you notice your hands tied behind your back and your legs bound together by the ankles.

As you look around frantically - searching for something, anything that could help you get free - your mind makes the observation that this room doesn't exactly look like somewhere people about to be cut up are brought. First of all, it's huge. Secondly, it's... luxurious might be the best word for it. Wooden floors and ceiling, expensive looking furniture, paintings on the wall, and your chair is actually an armchair, leather even if your guess is correct. What in the name of all hell-

"Oh," a deep voice sounds to your right, "You're awake."

The sound of a door closing reaches your ears and you twist your head around to try and get a look at your captor. The person that finally comes into view is... not what you would've expected. It's a boy - your age, maybe? - average height, dirty blond hair gelled back into submission, wearing a smirk and a blue blazer.

A Dalton Academy blazer.

Suddenly, the room and the decorations make sense. Despite never having been here, you are sure that you must be at Dalton. The only thing that needs clarification now is-

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you ask furiously, glaring up at the boy that has now come to stand in front of you.

Much to your frustration, this only seems to heighten his amusement and his smirk widens. "I'm very sorry, Angie, isn't it?" he drawls, not sounding sorry at all, "but you see, there is someone in your Glee club I need to have a word with. And I thought that knowing that one of his friends was here with us would be a nice... incentive." He steps closer until his knees are pressed against yours, and you try to shift away but there is not much room for you to move so the contact remains, the touch too intimate and sending shivers up your spine.

"I'm Hunter, by the way," the boy says as he bends down, his eyes almost on your level but still slightly higher, reminding you of his superiority in this situation. "Hunter Clarington, new Captain of the Warblers. I'd offer to shake your hand, but we wouldn't want you getting away, would we now?" His grin turns wolfish. "It's very nice to meet you, regardless, although I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

"If you're sorry, then let me go," you snap through gritted teeth, instinctively pressing your body back into the armchair as far as possible, anything to put some distance between you and this mysterious, threatening, unfairly good-looking stranger. "And since when have the Warblers turned into criminals?"

You're not surprised that the Warblers have gotten a new captain after the mess that Sebastian guy had made last year - it was one of the biggest ones you've witnessed during your 2 years as a Gleek - but this is certainly very unexpected and very, very unwelcome.

"Oh, we're not criminals, not at all," Hunter says as he comes to perch on the left side of the arm chair, his eyes boring a hole into yours while he speaks. "I prefer to call it... using innovative methods. But don't worry. We don't mean you harm. We just want to have a little talk with your friend Blaine."

Ah, you think, of course, Blaine. The Ex-Warbler, and lead soloist of New Directions. The statement stings a bit. Here you are, getting kidnapped and tied up and held captive for God knows how long with some creepy but attractive stranger that seems to have no sense of personal space... and it's not even about you. But then again, it never is.

It's not that you're not accepted in McKinley's craziest extracurricular. You are - they are your friends, and have been since you joined 2 years ago. It's just that, with all the big drama, and the big talents and egos of people like Rachel Berry, people like you tend to fade into the background. You've seen it happen to Tina, and you don't mind that you never get any solos most of the time, it's fine, really, you're not the attention seeking type anyway, but this... this hurts. To be used as a means of gaining the attention of the 'great Blaine Anderson' just hurts.

"What do you want from him anyway?" you ask despite yourself, because it's your duty as a concerned New Directions member to do so.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Hunter smirks and wow, did he really just say that? You cringe because this is so cliché, but your heart flutters a bit at the 'pretty' anyway. "Let's talk a little about you instead," he continues and your eyes widen as he puts an arm on the back of the chair and leans closer, your shoulder and his chest almost touching but not quite. "I didn't just pick out a random New Directions member to kidnap, you know."

"You-you didn't?" you stammer, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions diving your mind into the part that wants to run away as fast and as far as possible, and the part that wants to shift closer, drawn in by the intoxicating smell of Hunter's cologne. The persistent smirk on Hunter's lips stays firmly in place and his eyes have a certain glint to them, as if he already knows exactly what it is you're thinking.

"I didn't," he confirms, his voice becoming more quiet, more intimate. "It was you I wanted."

Your eyes widen at that and all you can do is stare up at him and wonder when the hell your life decided to become a badly written erotica novel. Then, Hunter stands up and you breathe a sigh of relief (or is it disappointment?), finally able to think a bit more clearly now.

"You see, Angie," he continues as he begins to circle the armchair you're sitting in slowly, making it hard for you to keep him in your sight, "when I became Captain of the Warblers at the beginning of the year, I decided to check out the competition we would be faced with during Sectionals. Namely," he stops at your right side and fixes you with a look, "your little Glee club."

"I've watched all of your old competition performances. And you know what I noticed?" Hunter asks, placing his hands on top of the right arm of the chair and leaning down so that he's on eye-level with you. "You didn't have a major part in a single one of them."

"Tell me something new," you retort, raising an eyebrow and trying to play it cool while your heart is beating rabbit-quick in your chest and you wonder what it is that Hunter wants to achieve with all of this.

Hunter continues as if he didn't even hear you. "I bet you don't get to sing much during practise, either, do you? But you want to." His gaze is intense and you just can't seem to look away or disagree, because what this boy is saying is scarily accurate. "I could see it in your eyes, in the way you move. You're a girl with ambition, aren't you?"

"Everyone in New Directions has am-"

"I'm not talking about that Rachel Berry girl," Hunter interrupts you instantly, sitting down on the arm of the chair once more, "or even about Blaine. They are exceptional singers, without doubt, but you..." His hand reaches forwards and you would flinch back if it wasn't for the fact that your body seems to have lost the ability to move. Hunter's fingers brush over your temple, even the faint touch sending shivers down your spine while his words hold you captive. "...you have intelligence. You're not like the rest of them, are you? You've never been. You're the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, and even though you might not be able to get the spotlight, in the end you'll be the one they'll have to thank if they score another win." Hunter moves down from the arm to sit beside you, your sides squished together firmly in the narrow seat. It's like you are the prey and he's the predator, advancing on you slowly so as not to scare you away, until he's too close for you to be able to escape anymore.

"You're just like me," he says lowly, your faces inches apart, and you can actually feel the deep rumble of his voice where your skin touches his. "And I find that very... attractive."

"You... what?" you whisper, your eyes darting between his and unable to focus because Hunter is too damn close and his words make you feel naked even with your clothes on. This is so not how you imagined this would go, and you're not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but Hunter's body is warm against yours and your stomach feels like an entire colony of butterflies has taken residence inside of it.

"I think," Hunter continues as his lips brush against your ear and you suck in a sharp breath at the contact, "you and I would work really well together. In all aspects." His left hand slides down behind your back and he unties the knot that was tying your wrists together but you don't even notice, too busy processing what's happening, too distracted by your heartbeat rushing in your ears and Hunter's hand that is lying hot and heavy over your nylon-clad knee.

"You can say no anytime," he whispers, his mouth trailing a path from your ear over your cheek and to the corner of your parted lips, "but I'd really prefer it if you wouldn't." Your eyelashes flutter – you can feel Hunter speak against your skin – and despite the tiny little voice in your mind that screams this is a very, very bad idea, your head moves almost on instinct, breaching those few inches and brushing your lips against his fully.

Hunter lets out a deep growl, his hand sliding further up your thigh, and as his tongue invades your mouth you're not sure this is a trap you ever want to get out of.