The Guilty Ones 》Glee/Klaine ✓

10. Potential

Blaine was sure that the entire room had been silent for hours. It wasn't until he heard the creaking of his own bed frame that he began to stir.

"Blaine."

He snorted to life, lifting his head off the soft pillow. As he squinted his eyes, he began to soak in the setting around him. There was a dull glow from the edges of the window curtains, and a looming dark silhouette at the foot of his bed.

"Ku--?!"

The older boy pressed both his hands over Blaine's mouth before he could give out so much as a yelp. "Happy Sunday," he said in a nonchalant voice.

"Kurt, what were you thinking?!" Blaine hissed as soon as he ripped away the boy's hands. He lolled his head over to peer at the alarm clock reading 7:14 AM.

"Don't ask questions, just get up," Kurt instructed. He shifted close enough for his weight to press against Blaine through the covers.

Blaine let out a groan as he ran his fingers through his messy, two-day product hair. "Do you care to explain why you weren't in our room by curfew last night?"

"I said no questions," Kurt repeated. With this he stood up from Blaine's bed and crossed over to his own side.

"Should I just be glad you weren't arrested?" he asked yet another question.

Silence.

"Kidding. Sorry."

"God, Blaine. I don't talk just to waste my breath," Kurt replied with annoyance. "Are you going to get up or not?"

"Sorry," Blaine apologized again. This time he was quicker to respond. He promptly threw back the blankets and slid out of bed in nothing but an old Dalton tee shirt and plaid boxer shorts. "Is this for breakfast in the dining hall or something? Because I'm not going anywhere in public without showering first."

"You're lucky we aren't going in public," replied Kurt. Then, he glanced down. "Cute look."

Blaine was suddenly grateful for the darkness so Kurt wouldn't see the deep red blooming on his cheeks. Gosh, he could never put on his uniform when he was a mess like this. But it was Sunday after all, as Kurt had alarmingly reminded him, and his grey sweatpants were folded nicely on his desk chair.

"Can we please talk though? There's something important that I think you've been neglecting..." Blaine said as he shoved his legs into the sweats.

"We'll have time for talking. Don't you trust me?" said Kurt as his dark figure grabbed his infamous jacket and slung a messenger bag over his chest. "And I know exactly what you're going to say."

"Oh do you..." Blaine muttered to himself.

Kurt reached for another item on Blaine's side, which he quickly recognized as his own coat. He then shoved it in Blaine's direction, nearly face-to-face. "Is that a yes?"

His breath smelled minty. Blaine didn't even want to know what his smelled of. "To what?"

"Don't you trust me?"

The smaller boy couldn't muster much more than a dazed nod and an "Of course I do."

After he had slipped into a pair of sneakers, Kurt led them out of their room and down the sophomore hallway. Not another soul was up and awake at this time for a weekend.

Blaine eyed the messenger bag bouncing at Kurt's hip with each step he took on the swirled carpet. "You have your bag. Is there something I need for wherever you're taking me?"

Kurt whipped around to face Blaine, now stepping backwards as they progressed down the hall. "I just need you. And I also need you to stop worrying."