A/N Just a little thing I wrote for my mother's birthday. Not much!

Kurt got the idea of Bram.

Bram was somebody who, until they actually got to know each other, he would have labeled as a 'stoner' or 'creepy guy'. He was the boy who spend his days under the bleachers of McKinley High. He rarely attended class and usually just smoked cigarettes. He was an outcast at McKinley, quite like Kurt himself and that's mostly what they bonded over.

They first met when Karofsky and Azimio had Kurt shoved against the fence, shouting at him, calling him names and with their fists raised, ready to punch Kurt's lights out. They were stopped, however, by a firm grip on their wrists and a furious voice.

'Leave the kid alone.' With wide eyes Kurt stared at the boy behind the jocks. He was rather skinny and his attire looked neglected. The look on his face was one of determination, though, and the fire behind his eyes was frightening at the least. The jocks seemed to disagree though.

'Ha! And what were you going to do about it,' Karofsky spat, grinning mockingly at him. A tiny smirk appeared on the mysterious boy's face.

'I don't think you would like to find out, David.' The grin slipped from Karofsky's face and he growled a little, making Kurt shiver in fear.

'Such a big mouth,' the large boy spat. Azimio laughed, cracking his knuckles.

'Maybe we should teach this loser a little lesson. But don't worry,' he added, looking briefly back at Kurt, 'You'll be next, faggot.' They turned back to the mysterious boy, who was ready to take them on. He took a swing before the jocks realized what was happening and punched Azimio straight in his guts. Karofsky acted quick, putting his hands on the boy's chest and shoving his hard, sending him to the ground. When Karofsky got ready to hit the boy, Kurt decided it was his turn to act up. He pulled his leg back and kicked the back of Karofsky's knees, making him cry out in pain. Azimio scrambled up from where he was lying, curled up on the floor and he charged at Kurt, but was stopped by Karofsky.

'Come on, man. We'll get them when they're alone.' Kurt walked over to the mysterious boy and offered him a hand to help him up. The boy smiled at him but scrambled up on his own, ignoring Kurt's hand. He walked over to the couch in the very corner, quite literally crashing down on it. Kurt hesitantly walked over to him and spoke up.

'Eh, I- I- Thanks.' The boy looked up at him from where he was lying on the couch and closed his eyes again with a huff.

'You don't have to thank me,' he replied. When he wasn't threatening angry football players, his voice sounded a lot less rough and a lot more tired.

'I do,' Kurt argued. 'You helped me. Not even my friends do that.' The boy opened his eyes again and looked at Kurt but stayed silent, which Kurt took as a cue to speak again. He held out his hand.

'I'm Kurt Hummel, seemingly the only out gay guy in this entire cow town. I want nothing more than to leave this place and go to New York City but first I have to survive high school.' The cynical tone of Kurt's voice made the boy chuckle a little and sit up, petting the spot on the couch next to him. Kurt said down.

'I'm Bram and I am the so-called school 'junkie', despite the fact that I've never used any other drugs than a simple cigarette. I would like to say I have something like that to look forward too but I'm afraid I'll never leave Lima, Ohio.' He took Kurt's hand from where it was lying next to him on the couch and shook it confidently.

This was the start of a long friendship. Kurt convinced Bram to go to at least some of his classes and in return Bram taught Kurt to 'live a little'. Bram's meaning of 'living' was different than Kurt expected from him at first. Instead of teaching him to skip classes and smoke under the bleacher's, he took Kurt to a roller skating disco after school. They spent all their time there dancing and singing along to the music, laughing and smiling. When Bram eventually took Kurt home just before dinner and gave him a big hug before he left, Kurt couldn't keep in his smile when he walked into the kitchen, where his father was ever so clumsily preparing dinner.

'That Bram boy someone special, Kurt?' Kurt laughed softly at his father's question.

'He's someone special alright,' he replied, taking over cooking from Burt. 'Not 'boyfriend-special' but he's just… a really good friend.' Burt clapped his shoulder and smiled.

'That's good to hear, bud.'

On the day of the anniversary of his mother's death, Kurt spent his lunch break under the bleachers with Bram. It took Bram mere seconds to notice something was up with his best friend. So Kurt told him everything. He told him about his mother. How amazing she was. How she died and how much it hurt Kurt and his father. He told him about he couldn't help but be scared that he would forget about his mother as the years passed. So Bram shared some secrets of him as well.

'When I was ten years old my brother drowned in the river close to our home where he and I used to play. I watched it happen. I tried yelling for my parents or help in any way but by the time my neighbor arrived, it was too late. My life at home kind of collapsed. My parents barely pay me attention by now, as if I'm some sort of lost case.' Kurt shuffled closer to Bram, grabbing his hand in an attempt to comfort him. Bram rewarded him with a smile.

'Last year, when I turned sixteen I convinced my father to take me to my cousin, who is a tattoo artist and I got this.' He lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt to show a beautiful tattoo of an owl with two letter under it: LA.

'Lucas Anderson,' Bram whispered. 'That's my brother's name.'

That night after Kurt and Burt came home from their visit to Elizabeth's grave, Kurt sat his father down and told him about his plan, despite the fact that he didn't necessary need his father's permission now that he was eighteen. It took him no less than two hours of convincing but eventually, after a long, emotional and tearful speech from Kurt, he gave in.

About a month later Kurt, Bram and Burt walked into AnderBerry Tattoo Studio. Kurt barely had time to adjust to the extreme amount of blue in one room when a short, raven haired girl jumped in front of him.

'Hi, there! How can I help you guys?' She gave Kurt a huge grin and he took a step back.

'Hey, Rach,' Bram said, unable to hold back his laughter at Kurt's reaction.

'Oh, hey, Bram! Do you want me to get your cousin for you?'

'Yes, please-'

'Don't worry, my friends, Blaine is here!' A young man with raven curly hair jumped up from where he apparently had been bending behind the counter. And wow… He was nothing short of absolutely gorgeous. Bram walked over to him and greeted him with a hug.

'Hey, there, man,' Kurt heard Blaine whisper in his best friends ear. When he pulled back, he turned to Kurt, holding out his hand.

'You must be Kurt, the boy my cousin here can't shut up about.' Kurt nodded and shook Blaine's hand. He secretly reveled in the way the calloused hand felt in his.

'And you're Blaine, the tattoo artist.' Kurt winked and Blaine blushed a little. Shit, Kurt, what do you think you're doing?! Well, flirting with a twenty-one year old man, that was what he was doing.

'S-so Bram told me you wanted to get a tattoo…' Blaine took them to a desk with three chairs in front of it and he sat down behind it. Kurt then proceeded to explain exactly what he wanted and where. While he talked, Blaine grabbed himself a piece of paper and a pencil and started drawing. His head was almost completely bend over the paper, his curls covering the rest. His hand moved over the paper faster than Kurt had ever seen and he was completely captured by the image before him. Until Blaine looked up to see why he stopped talking.

'I'm still listening,' he laughed. 'Don't worry. I'm designing your tattoo. What do you think?' He shoved the paper across the table towards Kurt, whose mouth dropped open. It was gorgeous. How Blaine had been able to draw this in mere minutes was a miracle to him but it was amazing. He look to his right where his dad was sat, staring at the design on the paper as well.

'Do you like it, dad?' Burt nodded soundlessly and smiled at his son, who pretended not to see the tears welling up in his father's eyes. He turned back to Blaine who was still smiling politely.

'It's perfect,' he responded, earning himself a huge smile from Blaine.

'Fantastic! I'll go and prepare the stuff for you. Can you wait here until then? I think my cousin will keep you entertained with that big mouth of his.' He winked at his cousin who glared back jokingly. 'There's a coffee machine over there if you want some. I'll come to pick you up when I have everything prepared.' As soon as Blaine left the room, Bram jumped up and hugged Kurt.

'Eh… ehm, Bram? What are you doing,' a completely overwhelmed Kurt asked, awkwardly petting his friend's back.

'Kurtie's got a crush! I'm so proud of you!'

'What?! No!' He gentle pushed Bram away, side-eyeing his father. 'I don't have a crush on Blaine!' Bram raised his eyebrows.

'I meant Rachel, but I guess you gave yourself away there, Hummel.' Kurt could hear his father snickering beside him and he turned bright red.

'N-no,' he stuttered. 'I-I mean, not to offend your cousin or anything. I mean, he's extremely good-looking and- Yeah, but I don't like him- Well, not like that- I mean, I…' Bram simply fixed him with a skeptical look and Kurt fell silent, just in time for Blaine to step into the room.

'I'm ready for you, Kurt,' he chimed happily, earning himself a giggle from Bram, who was quickly quieted by a stern look from Burt. Kurt stood up but stopped Burt when he was about to do the same.

'I'll be fine on my own, Dad,' he stated. Burt still looked unsure when Kurt felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

'Don't worry, Sir,' Blaine assured. 'Kurt is in good hands.' Kurt gave Blaine all the credit when he didn't even waver under his father's glaring eyes. He waved at Burt before following Blaine out of the door and into a different room. This wasn't as brightly blue as the other room but it also wasn't clinically white. The walls had a gentle crème color, giving the place a rather peaceful look. In the middle of the room was a large chair, surround by a stool and a table with a platter filled with ink, needles and other necessary equipment.

'You can sit down on the chair and take of your shirt, please.' Blaine walked over to the table and started preparing his equipment, not noticing that Kurt stood frozen in the doorway.

'S-shirt off?'

'Yeah, you want the tattoo on your chest, right?'

'Oh, right…' Kurt awkwardly stumbled over to the big chair in the middle of the room and pulled his shirt off over his head. Blaine nearly dropped whatever he was holding in his hands when he turned around and caught side of the half-naked boy on the chair but laughed it away. Kurt, who had noticed, couldn't hide his grin.

'Are you sure you want to spoil that beautiful skin, Kurt?' Blaine winked and Kurt blushed, his grin turning into a shy smile.

'I wouldn't call it spoiling,' he replied smoothly. 'Such an artist like you? Surely you can make it nothing but even more beautiful.' Kurt didn't even know where this side of him came from. Sure, he had gone to Scandals once or twice and even danced with a few guys, but he never openly flirted like this. He had also never made a men blush like this.

After they had determined the exact spot of the tattoo and Blaine had everything prepared, he spoke up, pulling on his gloves.

'So, are you ready to go, Kurt?'

When Blaine started working, Kurt had to keep biting his lip to not show how much it hurt. Blaine seemed to notice, though, and tried to distract him.

'So, Kurt,' he started. 'Why a blackbird, if I may ask?'

'It's for my mother,' Kurt replied. 'She passed away when I was eight and I wanted something to remember her by. Blackbird was her favorite Beatles song.' Blaine nodded and smiled at him, before turning his attention back to his work.

'So, tell me about her.'

Kurt spend the rest of the time talking about every memory he still had of his mother, whether it was good or bad, while Blaine worked in silence, apart from the occasional confirmation that he was still listening. He was just telling Blaine about their Friday Night Dinner tradition when Blaine sat up with a satisfied smile.

'Done!' Kurt perked up.

'Really? So soon?' Blaine nodded, grinning at him and passing him a mirror from his table.

'Here, take a look.' It was beautiful. The art work that looked fantastic on paper seemed to come to live on Kurt's skin. Only a small part of his chest was covered by the black ink but it was enough to put tears in your eyes.

'Thank you, Blaine,' he whispered. 'It's beautiful.'

A/N Let me know what you think, please?

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