Control

Blaine was standing at his locker, stuffing his bag with his books. He had to hurry up, Kurt was already waiting for him in the cafeteria. Just when he was about to close his locker, some jock passed by, yelled something he could not recall and the next second his face got stuffed with ice-cold slushie. It was stinging his eyes and a soft whimper left his lips. If this was what Kurt had to go through every day, he could easily understand why he’d want to transfer. When he had wiped the stuff from his eyes, it was already too late to see who had done this to him.

Kurt found Blaine only minutes later in the bathroom. Without saying a word, he helped his boyfriend get the sticking stuff from his hair.
“Is this what they did to you every day?” Blaine asked Kurt, staring at him through the mirror.

“Not every day,” Kurt simply replied. The blood in Blaine’s veins started to boil. How could someone do this and get away with it?

That afternoon, in the choir room, Blaine’s face was still aching. Kurt had wrapped an arm around him and Blaine was holding his other hand with both of his own. They looked like two sad baby penguins, trying to hold onto each other before some snow storm blew them away. Blaine laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Mr. Schuester noticed this when he walked into the choir room. He knew they were dating, but they never were this close in public. “Are you okay, Blaine?” he wondered out loud, laying some sheet music on the piano.

Blaine opened his eyes and looked up. “Some jock threw a slushie in my face,” he sighed. Kurt’s warm hand stroke up and down his back; Kurt knew how horrible the first time is.

“I’m so sorry,” Mr. Schuester replied. “I thought they stopped doing that after Karofsky stopped.”

“Apparently some new homophobe joined this school last week,” Rachel mentioned.

“Have you gone to principel Figgins yet?” Finn turned around in his chair, looking up at Blaine.

“You really should, Blaine,” Mr. Schuester insisted. A small smile spread over Blaine’s face.

“Thanks, guys, but I think I can handle it myself.” Kurt raised his eyebrows, not quite sure what Blaine meant by this.

And just as Blaine had finished his sentence, a jock appeared in the hallway, making eye contact with Blaine and winked in the most homosexual way possible. And in that moment, Blaine knew it was him who had slushied him before. He jumped to his feet and sprinted for the door.

“Blaine!” Kurt yelled confused, but Blaine wasn’t listening. He wasn’t going to get slushied twice, this was going to end right now. The jock was walking away from him, not noticing that a very angry Blaine was on his way.

“Hey, asshole!” he yelled through the hallway. Kurt was standing the choir room’s doorway, watching as the jock turned around.

“Talking to me, gay boy?” he answered, walking closer towards Blaine. Kurt swallowed, this could turn in a big fight. Kurt had never seen him in a fight before. He knew he was strong, but this guy was twice his size.

“Did you really find it necessary to throw that slushie in my face?” Blaine asked as calm as he possibly could.

“Might straighten you out,” Blaine clenched his fists to his sides. That was just enough for him to push him over the edge. He launched himself forwards, throwing the guy to the ground when his fist met his face. The jock obviously hit back and it all looked a bit uncoordinated. Kurt kept yelling Blaine’s name, but it didn’t help a thing. Finn and Puck came from the choir room when they heard the shouts. As much as they wanted to join and turn this guy into tiny pieces scattered across the floor, they decided it was best to make them stop, before Blaine could get hurt. They lifted him up and when his feet hit the ground, Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the scene.

“Kurt! Let me go! I can easily take him!” he whined, looking over his shoulder at how Puck took the guy over.

“No, Blaine, I don’t want you to get hurt,” Kurt replied, pulling him into the nearest bathroom. Blaine looked at himself in the mirror; his eye was swollen and his lip bleeding.

“You look horrible,” Kurt stated, wetting a piece of paper so he could clean his boyfriend’s face up.

“No, I look badass,” he corrected him, a small chuckle escaping over his lips.

“Are you going to copy Puck now? Join the football team?” Kurt joked, smiling, as he wiped the blood from Blaine’s lip.

“I might.”