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Juliana Hatfield @julianahatfield i fell asleep to the sound of helicopters overhead and woke up to this on my front door--whoa 7:19 AM - 19 Apr 2013

“A lockdown? A fucking lockdown? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!?!”

Oh no, Kurt was not handling this well at all.

He had come back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and dripping wet. Blaine had to confess to himself, he looked hot. The pale, toned, glistening body didn’t quite match the quizzical look on Kurt’s face when he saw Blaine fully dressed yet sitting on the bed facing the door, with his legs crossed. But after Blaine broke the news of the police order to Kurt, he had to admit the face matched, if by “hot” you meant “flames shooting out the sides of his face.”

“I cannot believe this bullshit! I can’t go to school, and now I can’t even leave my apartment? What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“Kurt, it’s going to be okay…”

“No it’s not, Blaine! I’ve already missed a week of school, I may not graduate unless they make special arrangements, I’m stuck here all by myself…”

“Um, no you’re not. You know Santana’s home, right?”

“WHAT?!?! Oh my God that’s even worse! I’m stuck with Santana all day?”

“But wait…she’s your roommate.”

“I know that, but it’s one thing to share an apartment when we have other places to go during the day. If one of us gets sick of the other I can run to the coffee shop for a little while, or she can go hang out with Brittany. But stuck in one place with her and having no means of escape?  Full immersion in Santana’s brand of crazy is not how I wanted to spend my Friday.”

“Well, you’ve got me, anyway.”

“What do you mean, I’ve got…” Kurt paused. “Oh, shit. You mean…”

“Yup. Buses and trains are down, remember? And I left my car at the bar last night because I was drinking. Even if I did have my car, I couldn’t leave by order of the Boston Police and the governor. I am as stuck as you and Santana are.”

“Damn. Sorry about that.” Kurt ran his fingers through his wet hair and spent a moment in contemplation. “Well, what do we do?”

“I haven’t thought that far yet. I have a 10:00 a.m. deadline, which I’m not sure is relevant anymore. I have to call my editor…oh, crap, that’s right my phone’s nearly dead. Don’t suppose you have a spare iPhone charger?”

“4S or 5?”


“Damn, mine’s still a 4S. You’re going to need one of those Lightning thingies.” Kurt got a look on his face that Blaine could only describe as resignation. “Um…Santana just got an iPad Mini, it uses the same charger, right?”

“You think she’d let me borrow it?”

“Well I guess we should go ask her. Let me get dressed first…I guess I don’t exactly need to dress to go out, do I?”

After Kurt slipped on a tank, hoodie and yoga pants, he and Blaine went back to the living room, where Santana was firmly embedded in the couch. The news was still on, but she had switched to CNN, and she was texting on her phone.

“Santana, Blaine needs to use your Lightning charger.”

She looked up at the two of them without raising her head. “What for?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “To brush his teeth with, what do you think?” That reminded Blaine, that water earlier was not a good substitute. He’d have to ask Kurt if he had a spare toothbrush. “His phone’s nearly dead, and he can’t go home to charge it so he needs to borrow yours.”

“Ah, nearly dead, not completely dead.”

“Ugh, come on, Santana, he’s on less than 10 percent…”

Just then Blaine’s phone buzzed. He looked down to read the screen and his stomach sank at the sight of three little letters.


“Huzzah, it lives!” Santana said as she looked back down at her own phone. “Get back to me when it’s DEAD-dead.”

He looked at Kurt apologetically. “Sorry but I need to take this,” he said as he turned and walked into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom.”

Blaine, thank God! Wait, how did you know it was me?”

“Because Dad’s usually on the treadmill at this hour. That, and I knew at some point you’d figure out I blocked your cell and you’d grab Dad’s instead.”

“Oh. Well I’ll try not to take that personally. We heard about the lockdown in Boston, are you alright?”

Blaine sighed into the phone and looked up at the ceiling, willing it to open up and take him away to a place where his parents could never reach him. “I’m fine, Mom. It’s a lockdown; technically that means I’m safely locked away.”

“Well, we still think you should have taken our offer to fly home.”

“Mom, I told you, I had to stay in Boston to work.”

“I thought you said you could write from anywhere. That was the great thing about writing for an online magazine, wasn’t it?”

Within reason. I still cover music for the New England area. Last I checked, Ohio didn’t count.”

“Well I wish you were somewhere where I knew you were safe. At least until they catch whoever did this.”

“Until they catch…” Blaine scoffed. “Mom, do you remember how long it took for them to get bin Laden? You want me in Ohio for years?”

“No, of course not…well, fine, maybe, but you know we worry…”

“And I keep telling you not to worry,” Blaine pleaded. “Mom, I promise, I’m fine. Worst thing that might happen to me today is I’ll die of boredom.”

“Don’t say things like that,” she scolded. “At least you have Sam to keep you company.”

Crap. “Um, Mom, don’t panic but…I’m actually not home right now.”

“What? What do you mean not home?”

“I…sort of spent the night at a friend’s, so I’m stuck here until…well, I guess until the police say otherwise.”

“Well, who is this friend?”

“Kurt Hummel. I’ve mentioned him to you, senior at Berklee, vocal performance major, fellow Ohioan?”

“Oh, the one whose dad was a senator?”

“Congressman, Mom.”

“Yes, that one. It was a shame he lost re-election. Well, give me his number just in case.”

Blaine blanched. “Mom, I can’t just give you his number. Let me check, hold on.” He walked back into the living room, where Kurt and Santana were sharing the sofa, quietly watching the latest updates. “Kurt.” He looked up. “My mom wants your phone number…she says it’s for ‘just in case’.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Um…are you sure?”

Kurt looked at Blaine questioningly. “Sure, I’m sure…why?”

“Well, my mom can be…I just hope she doesn’t bother you too much.”

“Blaine, it’s fine, I get parents worrying, my dad worries too.”

Blaine muttered to himself, your dad doesn’t phone-stalk your friends…

“What was that, Blaine?”

“Oh, nothing.” He went back to the kitchen. “Now Mom, you have to swear you are not going to harass him if I don’t answer my phone. This is temporary, only while I’m stuck here.”

“Honey, I’m not going to harass your friends.”

“Do I need to remind you my composition theory professor nearly took out a restraining order on you?”

“Well, I thought he was being entirely too hard on you…”

“Mom, go find a Bible and swear.”

“Find a Bible? Blaine you have got to be kidding.”

“I’m not giving you Kurt’s number unless you do.”

“Blaine, you are …hold on.” After a moment passed, “okay, I have it.”

“Now put me on speaker, put one hand on it and raise your other hand.”


“Repeat after me: I swear I will not call Blaine’s friend Kurt at all hours to check up on him.”

“I swear I will not call Blaine’s friend Kurt at all hours to check up on him.”

“I will lose this number as soon as the lockdown is over and Blaine is home.”

“I will lose this number as soon as the lockdown is over and Blaine is home.”

Blaine had to smile a little at himself; he could picture his mom standing in her bedroom looking like she was practicing for a bit role on Law & Order. “Okay. His number is 857-555-0216. You got that? Mom?“

There was no answer. Blaine looked at his phone; it had powered off.

“Santana?” He called out while walking out of the kitchen, waving his phone. “It’s dead-dead.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, let me get my charger. Don’t go sucking each other’s dicks while I’m gone.” She pushed herself off the couch in a huff and stomped off.

“I don’t know if she got the whole number before the phone died. Either way, be prepared to have to change your number when this is all over…I apologize in advance,” Blaine said as they heard a door slam. “What’s with her, anyway?”

“Remember when you stepped on that glass this morning and screamed bloody murder?” Blaine nodded. “Well she thought you were screaming for a totally different reason. The fact you were walking funny didn’t help.”

“Yeesh. I do not get what her problem with me is. I’ve never done a thing to her.”

“Who knows what lurks in the mind of that psychopath?” Kurt muttered. Just then Santana came back, her arm stuck out holding a charger cord. “Here. The moment your phone is charged I want it back.”

“Thank you, Santana,” Blaine said as he took the cord from her. There was no reason to be impolite, Blaine told himself, even if she was acting like a petulant child being forced to share a toy. “I’ll plug it back in Kurt’s room.”

“I’m sure you will,” she snarked back.

Blaine blanched at Santana’s innuendo. “Um, on the other hand, I’ll just keep it in here and come back later.” He plugged the phone into an outlet near the hallway, then started back to Kurt’s room, Kurt following. “So, as long as I’m here for a while, you mind if I use your computer? I can email my editor, and if she doesn’t extend my deadline I can at least use my Dropbox account to finish my column.”

Kurt smiled. “Sure, knock yourself out. I’m going to see what I can whip up for breakfast. I’ve got the whole day, might as well get my creativity out with a culinary outlet.” He leaned in and gave Blaine a quick kiss on the mouth, and…


Kurt had never kissed him the morning after they hooked up. Kissing was something that made sense in the context of the hookup itself, but morning-after kisses always implied more…which was why they never did it. What flustered Blaine even more was that he had kissed back, instinctually responded in kind. Blaine quickly covered his mouth as he let out a tiny surprised gasp, more a reaction to his own impulse than anything Kurt had done.

Kurt looked as surprised as Blaine. “Oh, I’m…I’m sorry, I—“

“No. I’m, um…” Blaine was flustered and didn’t know what to say. With his hand still over his mouth, fumbling for an excuse that didn’t sound like a rejection (because that would just be rude), he suddenly remembered his earlier thought when he needed the phone charger. “Sorry, morning breath. Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow? Actually, since it looks like I’m going to be here for a while I should probably take a shower.”

Kurt recomposed himself. “Um, sure. Toothbrushes are under the sink, towels are in the linen cabinet. You’re free to use any of my products on the right. Don’t touch the left, though…those are Santana’s. She gets very territorial about her hair care.”

“Okay, noted.”

“I’ll…be in the kitchen.” Kurt motioned to the door. “Help yourself to the computer, hair stuff, body wash, toothpaste…whatever!” He made a hasty exit.

“Yeah…” Blaine said. “Whatever.”

Yes, being stuck here was going to be awkward as hell.

(next chapter)


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