#(there might be typos too - they're all unintentional unless they are part of Kurt's email :P)

[notthetoothfairy]

He’s Got You High

For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥

She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.

read on AO3

Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.

It reads, Kurt Hummel.

He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.

To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.

It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.

So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.

Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.

Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.

To: Blaine Anderson

From: Kurt Hummel

Subject: Paper Eggstension

---

Dear Mr. Blaine,

sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.

You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?

But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!

My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)

Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.

Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.

He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.

The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”

In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.

And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.

-

“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.

Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.

“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”

“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”

“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”

“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”

Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”

“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”

“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”

“What?”

“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”

He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.

“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”

“Again, the guy’s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.

“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”

Kurt whimpers.

“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.

Kurt lets out a miserable whine.

“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”

“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”

“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”

“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”

Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”

Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”

“In my grave, you mean?”

“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”

“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”

“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”

It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.

-

Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.

He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.

Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.

Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.

He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.

He looks up from his notebook with a smile.

“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”

Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.

And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”

Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.

Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?

-

“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.

He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.

Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”

“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”

“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.

“If…?” he asks quietly.

“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”

Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.

But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?

He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.

“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”

“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”

“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”

“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”

Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.

“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”

Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”

Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.

“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”

“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”

“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.

As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”

Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”

“I really didn’t mind.”

“Okay...”

“Like, really really.”

Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”

“Later, Blaine.”

-

Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.

Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.

“Talk to you later, Rachel.”

“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”

“Bye now!”

As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.

“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”

“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”

“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”

“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”

“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.

“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”

Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.

“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”

“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”

Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.

“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”

“What part of shut up-”

Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.

Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”

Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.

They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.

Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.

Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.

Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”

It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.