Chapter Eight

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*Kurt Hummel*

"Okay, so you put your fingers here---no, right here." Blaine's hand replaces mine, showing me, well, attempting to show me, where to put my fingers on the guitar. "They're called frets." Blaine informs me. 

I nod in comprehension, feeling utterly useless. I don't think Blaine knew when he agreed to give me guitar lessons how difficult the task would be.

I glance up from the guitar in my hands to Blaine's face. He is sitting cross-legged on my living room floor in front of me, me sitting on the couch. Blaine's soft eyes meet mine, his mouth turning up into a half smile that makes my stomach flip flop. I can't help but smile back. "I'm hopeless."

"No, everyone's gotta start somewhere!" Blaine says confidently. "It's just that...your beginning is a little worse than others." he grins at the last part. I grab the throw-pillow that is next to me and chuck it at him, Blaine catching it against his chest. 

"You're a feisty one, Kurt Hummel." he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Instead of throwing it back at me, he sets it back into its original position. "So, do you remember the chords I showed you earlier?"

"Um..." I can barely remember my own name with Blaine looking at me like that, a faint smile still lingering on his lips, his eyes open and honest, the smell of his cologne filling my nose.

Blaine ducks his head as he chuckles, and moves from his position on the floor to on the couch next to me, his knee slightly touching my hip, his legs underneath him. Just the simple touch is enough to put my body on edge. I chew on the inside of my cheek, unable to look him directly in the eyes.

"You look upset." Blaine observes, making me cringe at the false statement, and the fact that he notices my nerves. "You'll get it eventually." he encourages me. "Here, let me help you." he scoots closer to me, and to my surprise leans over me to reach for the neck of the guitar, his body hovering over mine. I pray to God that he didn't hear my intake of breath. He is so close, closer than he's ever been before, even though we've been hanging out everyday for the past week, counting the day at the coffee shop, and as friends we've gotten quite comfortable around each other. 

His hand brushes mine as he reaches for the strings, and his eyes glance up at me before looking back down to the guitar, biting his lip in a way that makes my insides feel like they're on fire.

"And you put your hand...here." he is saying, his voice low, causing my breath to hitch in my throat.  "It's uh, kind of hard to show you from this angle. Could you scoot up a little?"

I nod and scoot up so I'm closer to the edge of the couch, unsure of how scooting up will help him. 

Blaine slides behind me, his legs on either side of my hips, but his body not touching mine.

Oh, so that's how.

I take in a deep breath, attempting to control my emotions. 

"Put your fingers on the strings." Blaine says incredibly close to my ear, his voice shy. I do as he tells me, and he moves his hand so it's hovering directly over mine, his fingertips grazing my knuckles. "And you strum like this." Blaine drags his thumb across the strings, the sound echoing in the now silent room, bouncing off the walls, the only sound my unsteady breathing and that damn irritating clock again. 

I feel Blaine's warm breath on my neck, and my heartbeat begins to accelerate in my chest. If I turned my head, our lips would touch...

"The party has arrived!" the door bursts open, revealing Finn with Puck behind him, Puck being the one who had spoken. 

I leap up off the couch, Blaine catching the guitar by the neck before it clattered to the floor. I turn halfway around the face him, my face burning a deep red. His face his flushed red as well, obviously embarrassed at the two guys walking in while we were in that position. He doesn't look at me, his eyes on Finn and Puck. 

"Hey guys," my voice falters, and I clear my throat. "W-Where's Sam?"

"He's on his way, he had to run extra laps in order to let Coach Beiste agree to let him join the football team." Finn explains, his gaze darting from Blaine and I, his eyes flashing with suspicion. I obviously was not fast enough moving off the couch. 

"Ready to get our Call of Duty on?" Puck holds up the Black Ops 2 game, a sly grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.

"Always." Blaine chews on his lip, looking like his mind is elsewhere.

"This must be Blaine?" Finn asks, gesturing to Blaine, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. 

"Oh, yeah! Blaine, this is Finn and Puck." I gesture to each of them as I say their names. I had completely forgotten they had never met before. I'm still slightly puzzled as to why Puck agreed to come over, since he most certainly is not my biggest fan.

I mean, yeah, I had brought it up to him, but I hadn't expected him to show up. Well, Finn had brought it up to him, anyways.

"And Sam will be here soon." Finn adds. I honestly have never talked to Sam before. He's new at McKinley, and is in the glee club, and by the looks of it hasn't really made any friends. It had been Finn who invited him in attempt to involve Sam, make him feel like he belonged, with I think was really nice of him.

"Nice you meet you guys." Blaine smiles at them. 

"You guys can head up to my room, I'll get us some drinks," I tell them. "That's where the Xbox is at." 

Finn leads the way upstairs, being the only one who has been in my house before, Puck and Blaine following behind. 

"You better not suck." Puck is telling Blaine as they disappear up the steps. 

I grab four cans of Mountain Dew out of the refrigerator before going upstairs, my mind suddenly whirling and paranoia creeping into me. I've never had friends over like this before.

What if they think my room is weird? What if someone notices the slightest bloodstain on the bedspread that I can't seem to get clean, no matter how many times my dad tells me it's gone?

Breathe, Kurt. Finn never noticed it before, so they probably won't notice it now.

As I enter my room, Puck plops down on the green beanbag chair in front of my TV, Blaine sitting down next to him on the floor, and Finn taking a seat at the foot of the bed, right on the most noticeable stain. I swallow back the hysteria threatening to escape me.

Everything is okay.

I hand out the drinks, each of them thanking me as I settle down next to Finn on my bed, lying on my stomach, my ankles crossed in the air behind me. "I feel bad for whoever gets stuck on my team." I say. 

"Since Finn and I are kick-ass at this game, we'll split up," Puck says, popping the disk into the Xbox. He turns to Blaine. "You any good?"

"I'm pretty good." Blaine offers optimistically.

"I'm not." I say with as much enthusiasm, making Blaine laugh. 

"Kurt, you can play on Finn's team, I'll take the Warbler." Puck tosses a controller at each of us. 

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