LLG AU

So Kurt was kind of in love with Blaine.

He'd tried to deny it, Godric knows he'd tried, but after resorting to physical violence to defend the Hufflepuff boy's honor? It had officially become impossible to refute. He loved Blaine, and now he was paying for it with bruised knuckles and a black eye.

It was all Sebastian's fault, really. He wouldn't shut up about what a prude Blaine was, how bland and boring and foolish.

None of which was in the least bit true. Blaine was idealistic, yes, but hoping for the best wasn't foolish. It was admirable! (And nevermind the fact that Kurt hadn't always thought so. He thought so now and that was all that counted.) His conversation was a bit odd at times, but that just made him more interesting. And wanting to wait til the right time, the right person came along to engage in physical intimacy was absolutely not something to laugh at!

So Kurt really had had no choice. He had to punch Sebastian. He just wished the other boy hadn't returned the blow with quite as much force.

He could have gone to the hospital wing, but surprisingly enough Kurt was strangely proud of his bumps and bruises. He'd wear them as a badge of honor, a physical indication that he'd done the right thing and for once hadn't cared if that meant sacrificing his comfort and reputation. Well, for a day or two. Then the weekend would be over and a black eye did not match his uniform.

Instead he went to the kitchens and appropriated a bit of ice from the house elves. They were so nice and fussed over him just enough that he didn't mind staying, holding the ice (wrapped in a tea towel) up to his injured eye and slumping on the bench as they made much of him.

Kurt was decidedly aware of the fact that the rather unpleasant common room encounter would not be the last he saw of Blaine Anderson. They were in the same year, shared several classes, and apparently Sebastian had decided to rub the entire situation in Kurt's face as much as possible. (Kurt knew he had always hated his housemate for a reason. Ugh.)

He had not, however, expected to literally run into Blaine while covered in all his quidditch practice muck. Damn. This, he guessed, was the universe's way of saying he should get over his distaste for the communal locker room showers.

"Um," he said intelligently, awkwardly fussing with his hair and feeling acutely aware of the dirt smudging his face and uniform. "Sorry. I was just on my way to... Sorry. Hi."

Blaine was situated on one of the windowsills located outside of the Herbology classroom, flipping through the latest issue of Vogue. (He had a thing for small spaces, oddly enough - they made him feel safer.) His mother made a habit of owling him the latest issue, seeing as the publisher probably didn't recognize 'Hogwarts' as a mailing address. He was more than aware of the eyes on him, and in response, Blaine took care to lick the tip of his finger in an indulgent manner before flipping the page.