A/N: HELLO FFN WORLD! This is the first fanfic I've written. EVAR. So this is my debut. Da da daaa!
Yeah, and I don't own Glee. Or we'd have gotten our Klaine makeout scene already. Duh.
It all began when Blaine invited me over to his dorm last week to watch a movie. Of course I said yes, I mean, I'm kind of head-over-heels in love with him. The problem is, he doesn't know that. At least, I don't think so.
So here I am, carrying out said plans made last week, about to knock on his door. My hand lingers centimeters away from the wood, but then I pull it away, fix my hair, adjust my sweater's hem, and decidedly knock four times.
The door opens immediately. I'm taken by surprise—was Blaine waiting for me by the door? My heart skips a couple of beats at the thought, but I tell myself, Of course he wasn't. Why would he do that? I mean, we're just friends.
Just friends. The words echo painfully in my head as I finally take in the image of Blaine Anderson standing in front of me. It's the first time I've seen him without his uniform on—instead, he's wearing a plain white v-neck and a pair of dark jeans that I have to rip my gaze away from to meet his eyes. Oh, those charming hazel eyes. I melt a little bit just thinking about them. And… he didn't gel his hair. Excuse my French, but DAMN. Why doesn't he wear it like that all the time? His dark, loose curls look all too inviting. I have to use all of my willpower not to run my fingers through them right then and there.
"Hey," he says, cool as ever.
"Hi," I reply, shakily, hoping I don't sound too breathless. I think I failed.
He grins at me and effortlessly steps to the side, holding the door open for me and gesturing that I should enter. I return the smile, take a deep breath and walk into his room.
It all began when I invited Kurt over to my dorm last week to watch a movie. As friends. He said yes. As a friend. Tonight, he will be coming over for an entirely platonic movie viewing. Unfortunately, it's hard to be platonic with someone I'm hopelessly in love with. The problem is, he doesn't know that I am. In love with him, I mean. At least, I don't think so.
I stand a few feet away from the door, just staring at it, willing for it to be knocked on. When I finally hear four knocks, I suppress an enormous smile and answer it right away.
As soon as I open the door, I realize that I probably should have waited a few seconds before doing so. Now he thinks I was waiting for him. We're off to a great start, folks.
I've seen Kurt out of his Dalton uniform before, obviously—I met him before he transferred. However, this doesn't detract from his immaculate appearance. Each strand of shiny, honey-brown hair is perfectly in place, and his skin is milky and flawless. His vivid blue v-neck sweater fits him perfectly, but not as well as those jeans. Look away from the jeans, Blaine. Blaine, look away from the jeans.
"Hey," I finally greet.
"Hi," he responds, sounding as angelic as ever.
I hold the door open and invite him inside.
The first thing I notice is Blaine's array of Harry Potter posters. I look at them, and then look at him, smiling.
"What?" he asks, defensively.
"You're such a dork," I reply, teasingly, before lowering my voice slightly and adding, "I think it's cute."
I could have sworn I saw him blush. Then again, I'm probably just imagining things.
"What movie do you want to watch?" Blaine asks me. I shrug. "Come on, pick something." He urges, gesturing towards the stack of DVDs near his bedside. I comply, and make my way over, before I sit on his bed and start shuffling through the discs. Blaine comes and sits next to me. Our shoulders and thighs are touching. I flush slightly at the contact. Breathe Kurt, breathe. This is PLATONIC CONTACT.
I look through the titles, and stop when I come across Beauty and the Beast.
"I love this one!" I exclaim, and seeing Blaine laugh with delight, I guess our movie is chosen.
"This is my all-time favorite! Beauty and the Beast it is." He replies. Oh dear Gaga. He's kind, talented, good-looking, AND loves Disney movies. Sign me up.
Why? Why is he so adorable? Why did he have to pick out my all-time favorite movie and make me fall for him even more? And WHY do his lips have to look so kissable? Kurt Elizabeth Hummel is going to be the death of me, mark my words.
I start up my laptop and pop the disc into it. As the movie loads, I begin to think about how we're going to sit. Not having a television in the dorm and therefore having to watch the movie on my laptop gives me a wonderful excuse to sit right next to him. I internally pat myself on the back for this. I didn't even think of it until now.
I situate myself so that I'm sitting on my bed with my back against the headboard, and my legs extended in front of me. Kurt does the same seating himself on my left, and I lift the laptop up so that he can throw a blanket over us. This is awesome.
Alright, the movie is starting. I am sitting next to a gorgeous, Disney-loving, gay individual. Life is good. Belle's singing. I love this song. I also love the way Blaine mouths the words and taps the rhythm on his leg.
Thank Burberry that he's too busy watching the movie to notice that I am, in fact, not watching and instead staring at his face. Oh, wait he's looking over here. SHOOT! He noticed me staring.
I love this movie to death. I love this song to death. I love Kurt Hummel to death. Thinking of Kurt, I glance over at him.
…Was he watching me? I summon up enough courage to wink at him. He blushes an impressive shade of red.
He winked at me.
Wait, what was I thinking? This is hardly a movie night—it's dark outside, but all of the lights are on in my room and there's no snacks!
"Kurt, do you want popcorn?" I ask.
"Sure! I'll make it, if you want." He replies.
"I've got it." I smile at him. He blushes again. This is becoming quite fun.
So, I make the popcorn, and before sitting back down, I turn off the lights. I am quite pleased with the confidence I've gathered to get to this next level of intimacy. Good, job, Blaine.
This really is fun, although the movie is going by rather quicker than I'd like it to. I kind of want to stay here forever. Blaine is really warm, and I'm right next to him, which is nice. Nice is an understatement.
Wait, I just remembered a problem with this movie. I usually cry from when the Beast first falls in love with Belle all the way to the end. That's a long time of crying! I can't cry in front of Blaine Anderson! And we're already at the part where I start tearing up. It's so sweet… and romantic…
Here come the sniffles. Oh dear. Blaine offers me a tissue, and I accept. Anything to stop my nose from running, because that's extremely unattractive.
Since I'm really trying hard to keep the waterworks at bay, I'm partially succeeding. This is a good thing.
Blaine is still looking completely and utterly irresistible, and I long for more contact. I think for a few moments, before deciding to shift my feet beneath the blanket to bring them closer to Blaine's, and then take a deep, reassuring breath before moving them even closer so that our feet were pressed together. He didn't move away—on the contrary, he adjusted his own feet so that they made more contact with mine.
I seem to have overlooked the minor detail that at the end of this movie, I usually break down. And the end of the movie is coming closer and closer. Uh-oh. However, this isn't as bad as it could be—it looks like I've got another Disney-movie-sympathizer on my hands with Kurt, who is already starting to tear up.
Do I dare make a move? Alright, Blaine, pep-talk time.
There is an extremely beautiful human being in your bed right now, and you're in love with him. You're watching a movie together, which is intimate considering you're sitting right next to each other. I'm pretty sure he likes you, since he keeps blushing whenever you say anything. It's time to get your flirt on, Blaine Anderson. You can't wait forever.
Time to get my flirt on? Yeah, I think I can do that. Kurt's already got our feet pressed together underneath the blankets. Step one…
Blaine has slid his hand into mine and twined our fingers together. I'm having trouble even forming coherent thoughts.
So, let's do an overview here. You're sitting in a dark room, under a blanket, sitting in bed with a boy you like that you're pretty sure likes you back. He's holding your hand and keeps flirting and glancing seductively over at you. What are you supposed to do?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! He took his hand out of mine! He'd better have a good reason for this!
And a good reason he has. He's pulling the "I'm going to pretend to stretch so that I can put my arm behind your back" move. He smells wonderful, like… oh wow, I don't even know what to compare it to. Like coffee and vanilla and musk and something else that's purely Blaine.
I want his hand back in mine, though! That's it, I'm taking right hand in mine, even if it crosses over him slightly awkwardly, like when he first took my right hand on the day of the infamous failed spying fiasco. He's getting a taste of his own medicine. Glancing over to see his response, I'm pleased to notice that Blaine is still watching the movie, but now with a small smile on his face.
This is, like, full-on snuggling. And it's awesome. I love it. Kurt smells like a bakery. That's right, Kurt smells like a sugary treat. It's the best thing I've ever smelled. Even better than an actually bakery.
Okay, we're at the part of the movie when Belle and the Beast are out on the balcony, before the Beast transforms, and… wait, is Kurt crying? I don't start crying until the very end… But, yep, Kurt's definitely crying. I don't think that anyone is as attractive as a crier as he is. However, this is the perfect opportunity. It's game time.
"Kurt?" I say his name, tentatively.
"Mmhm?" He responds, sniffling and wiping his face.
"Are you alright?"
At this point, the Beast falls unconscious before his transformation, and Kurt completely loses it. Throwing his arms around my neck and burying his face in my shoulder, he cries even harder. I wrap my arms around him, and we stay that way for several long moments before he pulls back and uses his sleeve to wipe his eyes delicately.
"Sorry," he says, before sniffling again, laughing and shaking his head slightly, "This movie is just really emotional." He's so damn cute when he's embarrassed.
But I don't respond. Not yet. Dapper Blaine, engage. I just meet his gaze, and bring one of my hands up to wipe a tear off of his smooth cheek, letting my fingers rest there.
So, I made an absolute idiot of myself by breaking down on poor Blaine's shoulder. Oops. However, this is not a good time to think about that, seeing as Blaine Anderson is gazing into m eyes and has his hand on my cheek.
"People aren't supposed to look as beautiful as you. How do you do it?" Blaine murmurs, his voice deeper than usual.
I honestly don't even know how to respond to this. However, I do know that my breathing is heavy, my mouth is slightly open and my entire face is a vibrant shade of pink. Without even considering what I do next, I close the laptop, stopping the movie in the middle of the Beast's transformation. Blaine looks at me questioningly, but doesn't get much time to before I move in towards him, put my right hand on his left shoulder, bring my lips up to his ear, and whisper,
"Look who's talking."
Now it's Blaine's turn to blush. I pull my mouth slowly away from his ear, and look at him. He simply looks back at me for a moment, blinks once, and kisses me full on the lips.
I swear that this is the best moment of my life. Everything is Blaine, Blaine, Blaine—how his hands are on my waist, how he tastes like mocha, how those gorgeous curls feel as I run my fingers through them. As cliché as it sounds, our lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Everything feels so right.
I can't even think now.
The only thing that breaks us apart is the need for oxygen. Stupid breathing. Either way, Kurt still has one hand in my hair, and one hand on the back of my neck. He's also bright red, and looking anywhere but at me. It strikes me how often he blushes, and I smile at how cute this is.
"Blaine," he says, and I don't think I've ever heard anything more beautiful than my name on his lips, "You are… You are so lucky I stopped the movie before I was crying too hard to kiss you."
It strikes me how lucky I am that he stopped the movie before I was crying too hard to kiss him.
"Also," he adds, "You taste like coffee."
"Is that a good thing?"
He nods fervently. Ugh. So damn cute.
We look at each other for a few moments before he quietly, breathlessly says, "Again."
I tilt my head a little, wondering what he's referring to (my head's still in Kurt-land). Before I have time to comprehend, however, his lips are on mine again. I realize what he meant as he rolls me over on the bed. Whatever, I suppose I can get used to this.