Holy royal hippogriffs.
That was the only thing that flew through Blaine's mind when he saw the boy for the first time.
He was . . . beyond perfect, if that was possible. Everything from his hair to his skin to his eyes to his clothes (even if they weren't the uniform, proving that he obviously did not go to Dalton). He was . . . amazing.
Blaine couldn't help but subconsciously compare him to a doll. He could just imagine the boy, propped up by wires and plastic of all sorts inside a small cardboard box. His plastic designer sunglasses sitting perfectly atop his plastic hair. If you pulled hard enough, his head would surely pop off, but who would want that especially with those gorgeous, gorgeous marble eyes and tiny little nose. The doll would come with a plastic hair brush and one outfit change. Accessories not included. Other dolls each sold separately.
Blaine knew what he was asking Santa for for Christmas this year.
"I-I'm new here," the kid stammered, making Blaine smile. New here? Ha! That was a good one. But instead of calling the kid out for it, Blaine nodded along and stuck out his hand in greeting.
"My name's Blaine." The kid seemed slightly shocked, as if not used to how kind people could be. Or he was surprised that Blaine actually believed his lie. Which he didn't. But Blaine really couldn't care less about where this kid was from or why he was there. Whether he was some spy from another school or a crazy kid health inspector, it really didn't matter. He just wanted to know more about him.
After a moment's hesitation, the kid took hold of Blaine's hand and shook it, sending chills down his spine. "Kurt," he replied. Kurt. Never had a name sounded so sexy to Blaine. Ever. Especially coming from those lips. Oooh, those lips. They were so pink, so luscious, so . . . kissable. Blaine shook those thoughts away immediately as the gorgeous boy in front of him started talking once more. He hardly knew this kid. Those were not the sorts of things that should be coming to his mind right after looking at his mouth. That mouth that looked so soft and . . . and captivating . . . and . . . "So what exactly is going on?"
"The Warblers!" Blaine answered a bit too quickly, trying to get those thoughts out of his head as quickly as he possibly could. As they kept talking, Blaine refused to think about Kurt's lips. Or kissing them. Or doing other things to them (Wanky wanky!). He needed to be patient. He did not know this kid. He didn't even know if Kurt was gay! . . . Ha! This kid was gayer than Dumbledore.
Blaine knew that he had to be patient with Kurt. He didn't even go to Dalton. He probably already had a boyfriend. He was most likely far out of Blaine's league. Blaine was not going to kiss this guy right then. He was not even going to flirt with him. Not at all. He refused. He just needed to be patient.
But then Blaine noticed the hall was getting empty and he really needed to head off to the commons. They couldn't really start the show without the lead singer. But as he thought about leaving, he realized he didn't want to leave his new sexy friend Kurt. So with a smirk, Blaine grabbed his hand and said, "Come on. I know a short cut."
Blaine knew that the hand holding and the running and the coat fixing and the wink and the song sex they practically had was all very . . . not leaving-him-alone-y. But Blaine didn't mind. And Kurt didn't seem to either.
Blaine really wasn't a very patient person, after all.
Blaine was watching a High School Musical marathon with Wes and David when he got the call. The call that made his eyebrows furrow in worry. The call that he could hardly understand at all. The call that had him rushing to his car and going well over the speed limit on his way to Lima.
Before he knew it, Blaine found himself sitting on Kurt's bed with said boy practically in his lap. Kurt's head was buried in the crook of Blaine's neck and he was crying hard. Blaine just held him, rubbing his back and petting his hair on occasion, whispering that everything was going to be all right and he was okay now.
Eventually, Kurt sat up and sniffled, turning his head and wiping his eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice slightly hoarse and groggy from crying.
"Kurt, you have no reason to be sorry," Blaine told him with a shake of his head. He placed a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Do you . . . Do you wanna talk about it?"
Kurt sniffled once more and rubbed at his nose before turning back to Blaine. His eyes were rimmed with red and his face was flushed. His hair was limp and his clothes were rumpled. Blaine thought he looked absolutely gorgeous. Kurt glanced down at his lap and mumbled something inaudible.
"Hmm?" Blaine asked gently, letting his hand slide down from Kurt's shoulder to his hand that he squeezed reassuringly.
Kurt glanced up and into Blaine's eyes. He pursed his lips tightly before whispering a quiet, "He kissed me."
Kurt's voice really hadn't increased in volume that much, but Blaine still heard him.
It's not like he wanted to though.
"Who kissed you?" he asked, much too loud and angry. He couldn't help it though. He was in a rage. It was possibly the maddest he'd ever been. Some jerk just goes and kisses Kurt, and he obviously isn't pleased with it. Blaine's anger suddenly was aimed at himself. If he wasn't such an idiot and he had kissed Kurt like he wanted to the first time they met, they wouldn't be in this predicament. Kurt would be taken and some stupid kid that probably smelled like feet and tasted like onions wouldn't be all up on him. Why was he so stupid? Why? Why? W-
"Karofsky," Kurt whispered, halting Blaine's mind-rant mid-word.
"That idiot who was bullying you?" he asked breathlessly. When Kurt nodded, Blaine's hands curled into fists almost involuntarily. As Kurt went on to tell the story of how the whole thing happened, Blaine had the sudden urge to punch this stupid Karofsky bitch in the face. Yes, if they got in a fight, he would die. There was no doubt about it. But Blaine could dream, couldn't he?
"And I just . . . I don't know what to do," Kurt mumbled as his story came to an end.
Blaine sat there and shook his head. "Kurt," he began. "I am so sorry. I . . . This is all my fault."
"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "How is this your fault?"
"If I didn't tell you have courage twenty three times a day or to stand up to him, you wouldn't be in this mess. Kurt, I am so sorry. You don't deserve this."
The corners of Kurt's mouth seemed to raise a bit in a smile as he shook his head. "You're ridiculous."
Blaine sighed and hung his head. "I know," he agreed.
He was surprised to actually hear something like a chuckle come from Kurt. "No! I mean, like . . . Here I am, balling my eyes out, all ugly and stuff, and you're being nice and comforting and sweet. And then you apologize to me." He shook his head and smiled. "You make me laugh."
"But I just can't help but think that this is all my fault," he said.
"Well it's not, and now you're just asking for a pity party."
Blaine gaped at him. "What? I am not!"
Kurt nodded and smiled brightly. It was almost like nothing had happened at all. "Yeah. You kind of are."
As Blaine chuckled softly and glanced away, he suddenly realized how surprisingly close Kurt was. Like, he was pretty close. And with that smile and his slightly red eyes and the tears that were now dry on his face, Blaine really, really wanted to kiss him.
He knew he shouldn't. Kurt was still upset about Karofsky, and to have two random guys kiss him in the span of a few hours would probably not be very good. Not very good at all. And in the past couple of days Blaine had become sort of Kurt's mentor. Yeah, a short, gay mentor who was ridiculously attracted to his mentee, but a mentor nonetheless. What kind of mentor would he be if he just kisses him out of nowhere? Especially when he's all sad and vulnerable and . . . and adorable . . . and kissable . . .
No! He couldn't have these thoughts! Not about Kurt. Not yet, anyways.
"So . . . What am I going to do?" Kurt asked. "About Karofsky, I mean." See? He was the perfect mentee. Asking questions and looking up to Blaine like he was perfect. Blaine should take a lesson from him.
But Blaine was stumped. He could tell Kurt to stand up to bullies and to not run away because that's what he should have done. But Blaine was never kissed by one of his bullies. They all acted like he had cooties or something. "I, uh, I guess you need to talk to him."
"I don't think I can do that," Kurt muttered, shaking his head from side to side slowly with a terribly attractive frown on his face.
"I wish I could help you," Blaine said with pursed lips. "Or . . . Maybe I can."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a free day tomorrow at Dalton. Some stupid staff development day or something. I don't know but I don't have school. How about I come down to McKinley and help you talk to this Karofsky fella? And if he tries anything, well, Wes knows Krav Maga."
Kurt smiled. "You'd do that?"
Blaine shrugged and grinned back. "Of course. You deserve so much better than that, Kurt."
With a sigh, Kurt smiled once more and lay his head on Blaine's shoulder. "You're amazing, you know?"
Blaine smirked slightly. "Yeah, I know," he answered smugly, making Kurt laugh a bit.
"How can you be obsessed with this guy? I just don't understand," Blaine said with a shake of his head. He was driving Kurt back home after their "friendly outing" of going to see Rent together. He had to keep reminding himself time and time again that no, it was not a date. Yes, maybe Blaine opened the car door for Kurt to get in and out, and yes, they had gone out to dinner first, and maybe Blaine held Kurt's hand once just to shut him up when a couple sitting beside them gave the boys dirty looks as Kurt ranted about how the actor didn't do Roger justice. But no. It was not a date.
"I am not obsessed with him. I just . . . I like his music," Kurt said sheepishly, bowing his head and bit and rolling his eyes.
Blaine scoffed and looked over his shoulder before switching lanes. "Yeah. Cuz that's the only thing you like."
He shook his head and glanced at Kurt out of the corner of his eye. "I highly doubt it would have to same affect on you if I sat in a room with a guitar and a tight-fitting shirt on while singing weird covers of Disney songs to post on the Internet."
Blaine could've sworn Kurt blushed, but he hid it well. "Blaine Anderson," he exclaimed. "Are you jealous?"
Kurt had a way of always turning everything around on him. Blaine chuckled and shook his head, pulling into the familiar driveway. "Oh, look at that. We're at your house. How convenient?"
"I'm not letting this go," Kurt said, unbuckling his seat belt and nodding firmly.
"I'll walk you up." As Blaine walked around the car to open up Kurt's door, he couldn't help but chuckle slightly.
"You really didn't have to drive me all the way home, you know," Kurt told him as they walked up the pathway and towards the front door.
"I know." Blaine paused. "I wanted to."
And then they were standing in front of Kurt's front door, just staring at each other expectantly. Blaine knew what was supposed to happen. He knew what he wanted to happen. It was in all the stupid cliché movies. The guy takes the girl (or in this case, guy) on a date, he walks her to the door, they kiss goodnight, end of story.
But like he had to remind himself again and again, this wasn't a date. This was just two friends, going to dinner and a play. Not a date.
But then Blaine had that urge again. That urge that he had a couple of times before. That urge that was so freaking hard to control.
Suddenly, Blaine really wanted to kiss Kurt.
It would be simple enough. Just a few strides and he'd be right in front of Kurt, the perfect distance for a little peck or something more. And then Kurt would gasp and kiss him back and put his hands in his hair and it would sheer bliss.
Blaine quickly shook his head to clear his mind of thoughts such as those. He would not kiss Kurt. He was his mentor. His friend. Not his boyfriend. Not his kissing buddy.
"So, I, uh-" Kurt cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. "I gotta get inside."
"Oh, yeah," Blaine said with a nod and a small smile. "I'll text you later."
When Kurt didn't turn to go into the house for a few seconds, Blaine was about to head off for his car, but then he held out his arms and blushed that adorable little blush of his, making Blaine smile.
He wanted a hug. Kurt wanted a hug from Blaine.
Blaine chuckled a bit before going into his arms gratefully. Kurt was firm but soft, and he smelled like flowers but not in a weird, girly kind of way. Blaine truly hadn't thought that it was possible for him fall even more in love with Kurt. He was wrong.
Blaine had never enjoyed a hug so much before, and he truly could have stayed like that all night, but then Kurt pulled back with a smile and a nod. "I'll see you later," he whispered. His face was thisclose. His lips were thisfreakingclose. It took all of Blaine's self control to stare into those blue-gray-green eyes instead of at those lips that he wanted to kiss so freaking badly.
As Kurt waved a little and walked into the house, Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That boy was going to be the death of him.
"I just still can't believe that you would drive for 7 and a half hours just to get some stupid books signed by some stupid author." Blaine gasped melodramatically and placed his hand over his heart as Kurt shook his head.
It was his third Friday night dinner with Kurt, Burt, Carole, and Finn and definitely the best one so far. The food was delicious, as per usual, but for probably the first time, Burt seemed to be actually enjoying himself. The older man was awfully awkward the first few times Blaine had come over, just staring at him observantly, only talking to him to ask cryptic and personal questions that Blaine felt awkward answering ("You ever had a boyfriend before, Blaine?" "Dad!").
But tonight was a good night. Before dinner had started, the Buckeyes' game was on. Burt and Finn were watching it religiously in the living room and Kurt had abandoned Blaine to help out his step-mother in the kitchen. When all three boys had jumped up and cursed loudly at an unfair penalty, Burt glanced over at Blaine, his stare hard and intense. He blushed and mumbled a quick apology for his language, but Burt didn't seem to notice.
"You a Buckeyes' fan?" he had asked without emotion.
Blaine nodded, refusing to glance away from his eyes that were so much like his gorgeous son's. "Born and raised."
Burt then nodded and grunted a bit before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. Blaine took that as a good sign.
Now they were eating dinner and Burt had actually smiled at a couple of Blaine's cheesy jokes, making him proud of himself. Parents usually loved Blaine the second they met him, so having finally succeeded in getting Burt to somewhat tolerate him, Blaine was a happy camper.
"First off," Blaine started, holding up his pointer finger and replying to Kurt's comment, "I am going to completely ignore that last part before I go crazy fanboy on you and hurt you. Second," he said, holding out another finger, "I'm a geek." Blaine shrugged. "Sue me."
"Well," Burt said, surprising practically everyone at the table as their heads all snapped around to look at him, "at least I'm guessing that Blaine here hasn't flown all the way to Winnipeg-"
"Isn't that in Canada?"
Burt nodded and continued. "At least he didn't fly all the way there just to go to some sale."
They all sat in silence for a few seconds, just staring at each other, before Blaine let out a loud, "Ooooh!" breaking the quiet. "You just got burned by your dad, Kurt. That's sad, my friend. Sad."
They continued bickering back and forth, Finn, Carole, and even Burt joining in every once in a while. It was a great dinner, really.
That is until Kurt got some gravy on his bottom lip.
And Blaine had the sudden urge to suck it off with his own mouth.
Blaine tried everything. He tried thinking of dying puppies. He tried thinking of the old bullies at his previous school. He tried thinking of a world without Harry Potter. He tried thinking of Kurt in his underwear (That one just made the situation worse, actually). He tried everything to make himself look away from those lips. Those lips that just looked so soft and kissable. Blaine wanted those lips. He wanted to kiss them until they were red and swollen. He wanted them to nibble on his neck, giving him a hickey he would proudly show off to the world.
He wanted to hear them moan his name. He wanted them to whisper sweet nothings into his ears.
He wanted to feel them run along his jaw. He wanted them to travel down, down his chest and stomach and breathe hot sweet breaths upon his-
"Huh?" Blaine snapped his head around, finally tearing his gaze away from Kurt's gorgeous, gorgeous lips. Burt was staring at him skeptically through slitted lids, and Blaine fought hard to hide the blush that was engulfing his cheeks.
Burt paused before speaking, his gaze quizzical and suspicious. "Finn just asked ya if you ever played football or anything, since you like the Buckeyes and all."
"Oh, uh, sorry," Blaine apologized with a smile which Finn shyly returned. "Sometimes the guys at Dalton'll throw the football around or whatever but people have always said I'm too small to be on team. I play soccer though. They started a team at school a little while ago so I decided to try it out." Blaine nodded a bit but froze when Kurt spoke.
"I truly don't see the need for football. Or sports in general, really," he said. Blaine refused to look at him. If he did, he'd just get distracted and excited and bad, bad things would happen. He would not look at Kurt. He would not. He would not. He would not. He would n-
"But you played football, Kurt. Plus, you were a cheerleader."
Blaine's head whipped around far quicker than he ever thought possible. Kurt. In a cheerleading uniform. It was a dream come true.
Kurt smiled nervously and blushed at Blaine's raised eyebrow. "I was just trying to be straight for my dad with the whole football thing. And then Coach Sylvester let Mercedes and I sing lead with the Cheerios, and with Rachel and Jesse in glee club I obviously wasn't getting any solos." He shrugged. "I was only in it for the singing. I swear."
"Sure," Blaine teased with a smirk, completely forgetting about his earlier rule. Thankfully, however, he wasn't even paying attention to Kurt's lips.
That is, until Kurt smiled.
And he noticed that Kurt still had gravy on his bottom lip that Blaine still wanted to suck off with his own mouth.
Ah, shit shit.
"You, uh, you have some, uh," Blaine stuttered, pointing to his own lip, "some gravy. On your lip."
"I do?" The innocent, clueless, yet slightly embarrassed look that crossed Kurt's face just made Blaine want to kiss him ten times more.
And then Kurt stuck out his tongue to lick the gravy.
Ah, shit shit shit.
"Did I get it?" he asked, looking at Blaine with wide eyes. He quickly glanced down at his lap, knowing that everyone at the table was staring at their interactions with critical eyes.
"Y-Yeah. You got it." Blaine inwardly winced as he stumbled across the words and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. "I, uh, I have to go to the bathroom," he exclaimed louder than he was planning before throwing his napkin on the table with a bit too much force and walking out of the dining room as fast as he possibly could.
As he all but sprinted for the bathroom, Blaine heard a quiet "Wanky, wanky!" followed by three annoyed accounts "Finn!"
Blaine slammed the bathroom door closed before turning around and sliding to the cold floor beneath him. He sighed and leaned his head back to rest on the wood behind him.
Since when the hell had gravy become so sexy?
Blaine could have practiced with anyone. He didn't even really need to practice, actually. Baby, It's Cold Outside was one of his favorite holiday songs. He knew all the words by heart. The show was going to be fantastic, as long as his partner held up her part of the bargain.
Blaine just really wanted to sing a duet with Kurt.
Blaine had heard Kurt sing a few times before. David and Wes had the Warblers watching video after video of performances by New Directions when they found out their competition for Sectionals. He'd hear and see glimpses of that one hot guy in the background but he never thought much about it.
But then Kurt was auditioning for the solo and Blaine literally thought he had died and gone to heaven. His voice was possibly as perfect as he was. Blaine was in love. There's no simpler way to say it.
So when he got a gig for the King's Island Christmas Spectacular and they told him he should "practice plenty to make sure you have to lyrics down" he knew exactly who he was going to practice with. And it sure as hell wasn't Wes.
Blaine practically melted as soon as he entered the room. Kurt was so cute when he was concentrating. As they chatted about this and that, Blaine kept wondering if this was a bad idea. Baby, It's Cold Outside was an extremely romantic song. What if he thought the song was too much? What if he wasn't into Blaine? What if he was one of those people that thought Baby, It's Cold Outside was about date rape? Blaine really didn't want Kurt thinking that he wanted to rape him. Because it's not rape if you like it.
"So you gonna help me out here?" Blaine asked with raised eyebrows.
"Anything to get me to stop reading about Charlemagne." Blaine couldn't help but smile at that as he got up and turned on the music, shimmying to the beat and even twirling at times.
Kurt was such a tease. It was even funny anymore. That's why Blaine was not laughing. As he chased him around the room, Blaine couldn't help but want to kiss the boy senseless even more. They were close, too. Multiple times. Blaine was practically sitting on his lap at one point. And yet, there they were, sitting side by side on the couch, both completely kissless.
As they smiled goofily at each other and Kurt blushed a bit, Blaine had to control himself. It wasn't very polite to viciously grab someone by the hair and smash their face into yours. At least, he didn't think it would be. He'd personally never done it before. But with all those teasing smirks and taunting glances from Kurt, Blaine wouldn't be surprised if he did it for the first time within the next week.
Blaine glanced away quickly to try and rid those thoughts from his brain. How many times was he going to do this to himself? How many times would he have to tell himself that he could not kiss Kurt. Kurt was not just some toy for him to play with. He was fragile and needed lots of care, and Blaine could care for him. He'd be great at it. But Kurt was still in the repair shop, getting all the chips and tears smoothed away and he wasn't ready to be played with just yet.
But, man, Blaine couldn't wait to get that doll all for himself. Nobody would be able to hurt it or touch it or play with it. It'd be his. All his.
Blaine sighed and rested his head against the hard wall behind him. "How do you say, 'French sucks ass'?" he asked, turning his head slightly to stare at the gorgeous boy before him.
Now, Blaine was many things. He was a fantastic singer. He could style his hair to look like Superman's. He was a total nerd and knew practically every single word to every single Harry Potter movie. He could play guitar. He could type 50 words per minute. He could even eat 6 saltine crackers in 60 seconds.
But the one thing he could not do without some major help was pass his French final.
And that was why he was stuck in Kurt's bedroom, studying French for 3 and a half hours straight. He really didn't mind being alone in a bedroom with Kurt for 3 and a half hours. No. Not at all. It was the French that he minded. He minded it a lot.
"Française suce cul, actually," Kurt said with a smile. Blaine groaned in frustration and slammed his book closed.
"Can we please take a break?" he begged, sticking out his bottom lip and looking like a small puppy.
Kurt's laugh seemed to light up the room and made Blaine's pout turn into a small smile. "We took a break like five minutes ago," Kurt said with a shake of his head.
"Yeah, and that was five minutes too long," Blaine groaned, tossing his textbook to the side and stretched out on the bed to lay on his stomach. He rested his chin on his arm and stared up at Kurt through his eyelashes. Was it possible he was even cuter from this angle? "Please," he whined, batting his eyelashes and looking as adorable as possible.
Kurt sighed. "Fine." Blaine perked up. "But!" Kurt exclaimed while Blaine groaned. "Only if you can ask me in French."
"Are you kidding me?" Blaine practically yelled. "I'll never be able to do that. I thought you were my friend."
"I am your friend. I thought you wanted to study French, not take a break every five minutes to eat red vines and watch Seinfeld reruns," Kurt debated with a sturdy nod, making Blaine stick his tongue out at him. "Now ask me in French, or you'll never get your break."
Blaine groaned for the umpteenth time that night and rolled over onto his back, his hands now resting on his stomach. "I don't know," he sighed, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Donde esta la biblioteca?" Blaine turned to Kurt with the cutest, most charming smile he could muster and a raised eyebrow.
Kurt stared at him, his mouth slight agape. "You just asked me where the library is . . . in Spanish." Blaine chuckled a bit as Kurt shook his head in disappointment. "If that doesn't prove to you that you most definitely do not need a break," Kurt said, "then I don't know what will." Blaine stuck his tongue out once more before sitting back up and pulling his book on to his lap. "Now, let's start off with the easy stuff. You know how to conjugate verbs, no?"
"I think so," Blaine said with a shrug, causing Kurt to roll his eyes.
"Then conjugate these. If you need any help, just ask me," he told Blaine with a small smile before leaning back up against the wall and digging in his book bag.
"But wait. Aren't you going to study with me?" he asked. Blaine made sure not to sound too upset. He wasn't sure if it worked or not.
Kurt glanced back at him with a grin. "I have my own homework to do. But don't worry," he reassured him. "If you have any questions, just ask."
Within seconds, Blaine was asking for help. He really didn't have any idea what to do, but if he wanted he could have just looked back a couple of chapters and he would have been fine. But he didn't want to learn from some stupid book when there was a perfectly adorable boy sitting right next to him who said it was absolutely fine to ask for help.
So as Kurt helped explain the verbs and the conjugations and what not, Blaine really couldn't help but stare at his mouth. Now, for the past few months he had scolded himself time and time again not to do such things. It was rude and impolite and definitely not something a friend or a mentor should do. But while Kurt was pronouncing the French, his mouth looked possibly even more pink and luscious and kissable. Blaine found his mouth becoming dry and his palms began to sweat. Kurt's words became unclear and muffled and all Blaine seemed to be able to focus on was Kurt's mouth and those two . . . soft . . . lips . . .
Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat and moved his eyes to his book quickly. This wasn't right. He couldn't do this. Not to Kurt. Not so soon after the whole Karofsky thing. No. No, no, no. "I've got it," he said abruptly, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Are-Are you sure?" Kurt asked, sounding slightly confused. "If you need help-"
"Nope. I've got it. Trust me." Blaine refused to look at Kurt as he mumbled something and went back to his own book. Why did he have to be so freaking amazing? Especially to be amazing and completely off-limits. It just wasn't fair. To anyone. Blaine wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him badly. He not only wanted to kiss him, he wanted to be with Kurt more than he wanted anything else in the world. To be able to protect him and love him. To be able to show him what it's like not to be lonely and single all the time. To be able to hold him and hug him. To be able to walk down the hall, hand in hand with the person he loved. To be able to to go on a date or two. To be able to kiss those lips as much as he wanted . . .
That's when he decided it. Blaine needed to kiss him. He needed to. He literally felt like he would explode if he didn't get to taste Kurt's lips right then, right there.
"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said, looking over at his friend with an expressionless face.
"Hmm?" he mumbled, staring at the page of his book for a few seconds before turning his attention to Blaine.
Without even really thinking about it, Blaine brought up a hand to cup Kurt's cheek before pulling their faces together, initiating a kiss that neither of them would ever forget. At first, Kurt didn't respond. Blaine obviously freaked out. He was wrong. He was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Kurt didn't like him like that. They'd never be a couple. They'd never be able to walk down the hall, hand in hand or go on a date or hold each other or hug each other or-
But then Kurt was kissing him back, a bit fiercely, too. He slid a hand up into Blaine's gelled hair and gripped the curls at the base of his neck. Before anything too dramatic could happen, Blaine pulled back - earning a displeasured groan from Kurt - and went back to his French book with a smile.
He glanced back at Kurt from the corner of his eye. He sat there, staring into space with his fingers to his lips and his cheeks flushed a bright red. Blaine smiled. He didn't need to understand French to know that Kurt liked the kiss when he mumbled a small, quiet, "Sainte mère de GaGa."
Finally! Do you know how freaking long this took? Yeah, neither do I! But it was way too long! Anyhoot, I hope y'all liked it. Hope it wasn't too OOC or anything. Although I know Finn was. I HIGHLY HIGHLY doubt he would ever say that, but after the Britney episode, I pretty much say "Wanky wanky!" to EVERYTHING and so I just felt that it needed to be said there. The only way that would seem IC was for Santana to say it and why the hell would she be at Friday Night Dinner? I know her and Finn are getting kinda close and all but I'm guessing that she's really not the kind of girl that Finn would want his mom to meet.
I quoted AVPM multiple multiple times so if you find them you get . . . A SLIGHTLY USED, SLIGHTLY DAMP DINOSAUR-SHAPED FLOSSER! Yeah. You know you want it. I also quoted Spah! verse by infraredphaeton once too, so if you get that, yay for you ahaha! Oh! And I made fun of Darren Criss and made Blaine jealous of himself. Impressive, right? I thought so. The ending translates to "Holy mother of GaGa." If it doesn't, then Google Translate is a dirty liar and I hate it with a fiery passion deep inside my soul. SNAP!
I don't own Glee, or AVPM, or Rent, or Darren Criss (You don't even wanna know what would happen if I owned him ahaha!), Spah!verse, Lady GaGa, Baby It's Cold Outside, High School Musical, or anything else I may have mentioned!
Lather, rinse, review!