Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at writing a FanFiction, so any and all comments/criticisms are welcome! Basically, this is going to be a bunch of oneshots about the Warblers all lumped into one story. It'll be sort of like the iPod Shuffle challenge, in the way that each chapter will be based off of a song, except I'll pick the songs instead of my iPod picking them for me. So, read, enjoy, and review! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. *sniffle* :'(
We'll be okay
Da da, doo doo doo
Spin that record, baby
Wes had been trying to figure out where that blasted Lady Gaga music had been coming from for the better part of an hour. Admittedly, he hadn't been searching very hard at first, but now the endless Gaga tunes were seriously getting under his skin.
It had been a pretty cool surprise when uptight, awkward Thad had invited the Warblers to go on a skiing trip over spring break. The slopes in Canada were crazy good this time of year, for both skiing and snowboarding. Okay, so normally Wes didn't participate in winter sports. Maybe seeing David epicly fail at both skiing and snowboarding was just an awesome bonus. It wasn't like that was the only reason he agreed to come along.
Since Thad's family owned a vacation 'home' (read: mansion) in the British Columbia area, they all got to crash there for free. On the downside, said mansion had thirty foot tall ceilings, so sound traveled extremely well. That would've been helpful if they planned on busting out an impromptu performance in the living room. In this case, the extra sound made it so Wes ended up getting hopelessly lost. Multiple times.
Rounding yet another corner on the ground floor, Wes cursed under his breath. He just couldn't seem to find where that annoying music was resonating from. He had been suspicious at first that Jeff was revisiting his Lady Gaga fetish, but the blonde teen had been raiding the kitchen with Nick the last time he checked.
Suddenly, Wes stopped short. The music had grown louder. Going into super Asian ninja stealth mode, he crept down the hall, stepping lightly on the white marble. As he drew steadily closer, the music's volume continued to grow. Off to the right was a door that was slightly cracked, a yellow shaft of light creeping out. With one swift movement, he slid the polished wood the rest of the way open. But what he found wasn't anywhere close to what he was expecting.
The room was awesome. A giant who-knows-how-many-inches flat screen TV rested on the wall in front of a home theatre, and a popcorn machine glowed in the left corner. That was the cool part. The surprising part was the music video on the screen of the TV, and the one and only Kurt Hummel busting a move in the aisle.
Kurt looked pretty out of it, but apparently he wasn't too far gone to notice the door creak open. He stopped his crazy movements and whipped around. When he saw Wes, he paled (if that was possible) before flooding with color, embarrassment coloring his features.
Wes had to admit that Kurt's moves were pretty smooth, if not a little insane, but it was still a potentially uncomfortable situation. Although, it didn't even start to compare to when he'd walked in on Kurt and Blaine making out shortly after Regionals. Now that had been awkward. Still, the gavel-happy Asian couldn't repress a small smirk as he leaned coolly against the frame of the door and crossed his arms.
"So," he said casually, raising an eyebrow, "you like dancing?"
Kurt made a mortified little squeaking sound before turning and bolting out of a door in the back, nearly tripping on his face as he scrambled to make a getaway. Wes bit his lip hard, trying to wait until the countertenor was out of earshot before busting up laughing, succumbing to the hilarity of the thing. He doubled over, and it was several minutes before he hiccuped himself back into partial seriousness.
Smiling like mad, he turned and exited the room. He needed to find David. Maybe the Warblers could consider making a variation on their dance routines...
Soooo what did you think? Please review and give me your input! Criticism is welcomed, but flames will be used to burn Rachel's hideous sweaters tonight.