#blaine's shit eating grin

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

XX ~ S.S.

Part Four: Rush (Final)

A/n: This is a separate request but I combined them (This prompt list). This has been sitting in my drafts for AGES so very close to completion and I got a final boost from @mmmalakai so this one’s for you bestie <3

Request: “22 for Seb? 👀”

Word Count: 3800+

MASTERLIST

~ Kiss in a rush of adrenaline ~

The Warblers ran into a problem when competition season rolled around. They had essentially been cut in half, and that meant they were working with significantly less people than normal. Adding on top of that the rivalry he was brewing with New Directions and... well, it wasn't ideal.

Y/n got an earful every evening after glee rehearsals. Blaine was apparently up Sebastian's ass, playing some form of protective older brother for Y/n. He had made it clear time and time again that he didn't approve of Sebastian, and his boyfriend Kurt was only too happy to support this endeavor. Predictably, Kurt had been most on board for it when Blaine had told him of Sebastian's initial flirting and move making. It made Y/n wonder if Kurt was in it to protect Y/n like Blaine was, or if he was in it for his own personal revenge.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be where the struggles ended. They had enough people to compete and so did Noteworthies - but only one team could compete from one school. Which meant that on top of push back from Blaine and Kurt, and the dance they'd been having with all of New Directions, there needed to be a pre-competition face off to see which Dalton Glee club was going to compete.

Which was strange to talk about, when they were technically opposed team captains, but also had been spending as much time as they could together again. They'd wanted to perform together again and neither could come up with a reason to. They were busy practicing for all the face offs and performances they had coming up, which meant they didn't have much free time. With the stress increasing, the need for peace and quiet got worse until their routine became shit talking everyone else in the car and then going back to Sebastian's, cleaning up and changing, and then just doing homework in absolute silence for hours and hours, cuddled up until dinner. Dinner was the best part of the day because they would be recharged from everything else and would put the homework away and just talk. Or watch something. They didn't talk about school during dinner, or Glee. They'd talk about music or the thing they watched or anything else. Sometimes Blaine and Kurt, but never New Directions.

It was so strange to find themselves on opposing sides when school came around at the beginning of every new day, especially when their mornings were spent getting coffee where Y/n and Blaine used to and tormenting the New Directions people who were there if they happened to run into each other.

Y/n didn't even feel bad about it. He had tried to stop Sebastian at first, but then Blaine had ruined that.

The day had started cool, which was nice because the Dalton blazers were always a little warm on the body. Adding coffee to that usually meant feeling a little warmer than one was usually comfortable with. But not that morning. Instead, Y/n and Sebastian were in line to get their coffees, Sebastian going on and on about a wild encounter he'd had in Paris when he was still living there. Y/n had been sent into a fit of laughter, face turning red and wrapping his arms around his stomach. "You did not get that drunk at 11 years old," Y/n accused.

Sebastian was grinning. "I absolutely did. My parents were mad, but it wasn't as big of a deal as you'd think. The problem was that I had stolen all the cream puffs. There were three heaping plates made for everyone at that party and I had eaten them all by myself. I was sick for two whole days, and still couldn't eat chocolate without feeling sick for another week." Y/n peeled into giggles again and the room seemed to get brighter, warmer. Sebastian watched him with so much adoration on his face that the people around them all smiled.

Well, almost everyone.

"If it isn't my favorite Dalton boy." An arm looped around Y/n's shoulder, and he looked over to see Blaine. Immediately, the joy started to seep out of him and Sebastian watched in irritation as he put on the mask that he always did. The calm and the patient and the gentle. Not that Y/n wasn't all of those things, but more that he only ever allowed himself to be those things specifically when certain people - like Blaine - were around. The more time he spent around Sebastian, the more he allowed himself to express all of the different sides of him, but it was slow coming. It was easier with the Warblers and most of the Noteworthies, but harder with Lyran and anyone from McKinley. It bothered Sebastian immensely.

"Hey," Y/n greeted with a soft smile.

Blaine positioned himself to cut Sebastian off from the conversation and immediately Sebastian's jaw locked. He tried to play as nice as possible with Blaine - he meant a lot to Y/n. And even if Sebastian didn't get the appeal (he had flirted with the man once before actually getting to know Y/n, and now he just about laughed out loud at the thought. How could be have gone for stick-in-the-mud, goody two shoes Blaine when Y/n was right there?) it wasn't about him, so. Whatever. The move from Blaine was an affront though, and he barely managed.

"I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

Kurt shot him a look and Sebastian purposefully ignored it. His eyes were on Y/n, who suddenly seemed uncomfortable. It seemed he has picked up on Blaine's actions - and Sebastian's reaction to it as well.

"Fine," the boy eased, sliding fluidly from Blaine's hold to pick up something off of a nearby shelf, tilting it as if considering if he was going to get it. He put it down and turned back to the other three. It was a well masked attempt to include Sebastian again, and a well appreciated one. Well, appreciated by Sebastian. Blaine's smile got a little tighter.

"I heard you started a new acapella group at Dalton," Blaine picked up again. There was something very awkward about him trying to start small talk, and Y/n shutting it down with one word responses instead of expanding in the least. An awkwardness that was showing in Blaine's tone.

"Yeah," Y/n nodded, and the tension grew.

Sebastian swallowed a smile when he saw a hint of his Y/n. The hidden shade he was masking so well with innocence and softness. It wasn't cruel, more unsure. Y/n didn't know how to show Blaine that finally, he had changed too. In the way that Blaine had become more a team player, flourishing with a bunch of people who challenged him and treated him like a normal person instead of some music sex god, that Y/n had bloomed in the same way.

Under Sebastian's pressure and fire, he had grown to something infinitely more beautiful: Himself. Not filtered to be more palpable, or fit the vibe someone else was setting. He was himself - both soft and hot to the touch. Soothing at one point, and agitating the next, depending on what he had to rise to the top to meet. And there was a whole new side to him too - one that didn't just react, but set expectations and then kept them going. Who established a mood and then continued it. One who knew control and patience and could balance firm grips and gentle nudges.

Blaine missed it all. He hummed in such false amusement that it was so obviously just irritation.

"Seems you're spending a lot of time with Mr. Competition over here then." It was light and airy, easily dismissed unless you already knew he was trying to shove a wedge between Y/n and Sebastian. Which they all did know.

Y/n seemed to consider that. "Competition drama and interpersonal relationships are different things. At Dalton we try to keep it clean - nothing personal, no dirty play." He shot a pointed look at Sebastian. "These days at the very least."

Sebastian felt himself warm, flaring under Y/n's attention. "The whole point of a game is there are always rules. I set some, you set some. They must all be followed or people stop playing."

Y/n snorted. "Very good job Bas, you're learning so well."

Blaine seemed uncomfortable with the easy banter between the two, and he tended when Y/n used a nickname. "Y/n-"

"Listen," Y/n cut off. "I've tried to tell you before but you refuse to listen so I'll be very blunt with you. I'm a different person now - a better person. This is a good thing, and if you can't see that and accept that people change I don't want to be friends with you anymore. I know you have beef with Sebastian. It's a good thing you're not the one who has a relationship with him." He turned without another word and made his order, filling in Sebastian's as well without thinking. He had been correct to the T so Sebastian let it slide. He relished Y/n stepping in to stop Blaine, and he especially loved that Y/n was so easily showing how well they knew each other and how much they meant to each other. It was delicious.

Blaine stumbled over his words for a moment at the display from the boy who used to be so close to him. "What happened to you?"

Y/n's irritation slipped. "What happened to me is that I finally got a life outside of you. I'm in a glee club that isn't revolving around you. I have other friends. I developed a personality based on myself and not you and your standards and expectations, and found people who like what I have to offer. If the only way you want me is folded nicely so that you can have me at your disposable for you and your irritating ass boyfriend then you don't want me." He slapped money on the counter and grabbed the two drinks before walking away. "See you around Blaine."

As they left, Sebastian's face twisted with a smirk. Not the teasing or biting one he usually donned, but one filled with admiration and adoration.

Something bubbled under the surface of his skin and he shivered. Then decided to ignore it for now. Y/n started a conversation about how bagels sounded good for breakfast and that was the end of it.

For now.

-

It was decided that a face off would be held to decide who was going to competition of the Dalton glee clubs.

It wasn't a shocking conclusion, but still needed an official announcement.

When the day came, Sebastian thought the Warblers had it in the bag.

Then the Noteworthies went.

Whatever the group had accomplished in the past, they had surpassed themselves several times. They were completely in sync, switching out and weaving through each other like it was second nature. They kept a certain energy between them that truly was contagious, like before, but also tangible. An energy that flowed through the air. Not a performance, or a show of any specific person. No call to attention or vie for spotlight, but a conversation between them that became increasingly interesting to follow.

They sang songs and it seemed like words. Banter between friends, or inside jokes. Stories that weren't all the way told yet. Secrets on the cusp of being spoken into the world. It was a sleep over or a camp out, telling stories in the dark and trying to scare each other. It was a safety net that if anyone crosses a line, you could stop and it would be okay. It was a breath of relief, or the first day of Summer vacation. Full of possibilities and mischief and energy and wonderment with all the stability of not having quite lost your sense of time. Youthful. Bright. Fun. But also accepting and gentle and understanding.

Of course the Warblers lost.

Y/n had been right - a group that worked as a unit far surpassed a ring leader surrounded by people to make them look better. And after the challenge, Sebastian lost even more Warblers.

He was losing the game, and he realized he had been for a long time.

Fascinating.

He swallowed his smile when Y/n met him at the car. Y/n rose an eyebrow. "What is it? You're not mad we won are you? And I swear I'm not trying to steal anymore of your Warblers-"

Sebastian shook his head. "Please. It's like you said - we've far surpassed taking things personally and lashing out."

Y/n rose an eyebrow. "So you're not going to be petty?" Sebastian was surprised to realize Y/n was being sarcastic when he asked the question.

Y/n knew him so well...

Sebastian's smile finally made it through as they got into the car. "Perhaps just a little." Y/n laughed and suddenly Sebastian didn't feel bad at all anymore.

-

"Oh I love this song!" Y/n shot to his feet, pushing homework aside for a moment to grab Sebastian's hand and force him to follow. They were dancing together before Sebastian could even complain.

He did it while they were up instead, despite the fact that he didn't sit back down even when Y/n let go of his hands. "You promised you wouldn't get distracted if we played music today. We need to study."

Y/n rolled his eyes. "We do homework all the time - my grades are better than they've been in ages. It can wait for a single song." Y/n stepped close, something mischievous in his eyes. "Or two."

Something bubbled in Sebastian's stomach, worming it's way up to his chest. Words were on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't quite pull them out or place what they were so for now he let them be.

And the two danced.

The second song was slower, and Y/n tried to do a funny bit by using choreography slowed to half speed, his facial expressions even changing at a snail's pace, which did get Sebastian to laugh. But then he reached out and pulled Y/n against him, chest to chest, and grabbed his hand and waist. "Slow dance properly or skip the song," he chided.

Y/n snorted but didn't pull away. "Of course the rich boy is particular about slow dancing," he teased. "You know how to waltz I assume?"

Sebastian's eyes shone. "Would you like me to teach you?"

Y/n grinned. "Fuck yes." So Sebastian did. It was the first time they'd danced that it wasn't competitive or teasing. There was fire here too but it was quieter, calmer - familiar. Sebastian grabbed his hand, then his waist, and stepped closer. He spoke softly, giving directions and telling him when and where he was stepping and the directions he was going.

It was easy to follow him. Sebastian was excellent at leading, both with his steps and his words. At one point he spun Y/n, slowly to allow for him learning, and Y/n giggled. When they were face to face again they were both grinning.

"This is fun," Sebastian noted. He didn't speak as loudly as he usually did, keeping that soft directional tone he'd been using up to this point.

Y/n felt his face warm up. "It is. Maybe we should make this a regular thing. You can teach me everything you know."

Sebastian's smile grew a little teasing, and seeing that peek out now only made Y/n blush worse. "Je crois que je t'aime."

Y/n's eyebrows came together when Sebastian spoke in French. "No fair! I don't know French."

"If I teach you everything I know," Sebastian reasoned. "You will one day."

Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Okay," he eased slowly. "What did you say though?"

The deviousness crescendo'd as Sebastian chuckled. "I'll tell you one day." He slowed them to a stop, spinning Y/n outward and catching his wrist. He brought the back of Y/n's hands to his lips, leaving a kiss. "You're a wonderful dance partner."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "You need to be dubbed an official Disney Prince with all this charm you're using on me."

There seemed to be something Sebastian wanted to say, but he chose not to.

A new side to him.

Instead he cleared his throat, covering up a laugh. "Let's get back to homework." Unsure of how to get him to divulge information when he was so often readily offering it and not hiding it away as he was now, Y/n was forced to let the interaction go.

For now.

-

Noteworthies killed it at competition, putting Dalton in first place for the first time since Sebastian had started coming to school here. When they were announced as first, Sebastian's eyes went wide and he couldn't stop smiling. He was in the audience, but he was quickly out of his seat and rushing backstage. When Y/n was off of that stage, he was quick to close the distance. Y/n was surprised, but laughed as they met in the middle, getting caught up in the kiss immediately.

It was the first time they'd been explicitly affectionate in public, and it was wonderful. Especially as Lyran smiled to themself, watching the two.

"Finally, am I right?" they whispered to one of the other boys who laughed, all of them heading to the changing room to leave the pair alone.

When the two boys separated from their embrace, Y/n was blushing. "What was that?" he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. "Probably... adrenaline." He chuckled, finding himself a little breathless. No one had ever made him this soft before, taken him so completely. He felt a little silly and completely ridiculous and stripped entirely of his power-

And he loved it.

-

“Hey I have a question.” Things had changed since the kiss back stage. They weren’t playing this maybe-friends-maybe-not thing, they were definitely more than friends. Things had gotten as casual as Y/n ending up in Sebastian’s bed for no other reason than better cuddling positions as they watched Netflix all day. That was their Saturday routine. They only got out of bed to make food, and then they’d play music and dance together or tease or kiss…

It was domestic.

But they’d never made anything official.

Sebastian had waited for Y/n to give him that staple look people always did when things got a little too serious. Usually that was when he’d run away, but with Y/n he was sure he’d have drifted into a relationship blissfully. No one could keep up with him and change the game like Y/n could - who could ever even keep his attention after this boy?

But Y/n had never asked. It had never come up. And once again the rules were different than Sebastian had expected. It wasn’t Y/n asking about their relationship that day. It was Sebastian. His hair was soft, dried post shower, and he had only bothered with the bare minimum necessary to be comfortable. Y/n had lost his shirt at some point, stealing one of Sebastian’s even though there were clothes just here that were Y/n’s at this point. It felt intimate in a weird way. Different than sex, but maybe on the same level as it.

Y/n looked at the boy, smiling. “Ask away.”

“Are we together?” Sebastian asked. “Like, boyfriends.”

Y/n’s face light up. “I thought you didn’t do labels, Hot Shot.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want to-“

Even if Y/n could throw him off, Sebastian was good at catching up. The dynamic shifted as Y/n gently caressed his cheek, leaning in to kiss him to get him to stop. “No, it’s okay. I’d love to be your boyfriend. And to have yours as mine. Please.”

Sebastian grew warm. “Okay.” There was that thing… that thing just under the surface…. But he let it go.

Not yet. He couldn’t handle two huge leaps in character in one day. Something told him that Y/n wouldn’t want him to anyway.

-

It happened, ironically, after they decided to hang out because Y/n’s parents were getting a divorce. Maybe that was actually what made it perfect timing. They were tangled together on the couch, Sebastian soothingly running his hands up and down Y/n’s back. They hadn’t spoken in a while but Y/n’s mood seemed to slowly, steadily, improving. Sebastian could feel that feeling that was growing more and more impossible to ignore. The words that were getting closer and closer to slipping between his lips. They were getting less and less scary - easier to say. Easier to accept. He knew that they would escape any second now.

“I love you.” It was Y/n who’d spoken.

Immediately Sebastian sighed. “Of course you managed it before I did.” He sounded only amused.

Y/n laughed. “To be fair, you were the one who made the relationship official. You started all of this. I think I can get one thing on you. If that’s okay.”

“No. It’s not. Take it back.” At Sebastian’s words, Y/n laughed again. Sebastian left a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead. Lingering. Then his lips parted and-

“Don’t say it just because I did,” Y/n interrupted.

Sebastian sighed. “I wouldn’t say anything I didn’t mean. If I didn’t love you, I’d run. I always do.” He scoffed. “But… I do love you. And I can even say that foul word. You’ve completely ruined me. I’m so young how could you do this to me?”

Y/n shrugged, and his smugness was so gorgeous Sebastian had to kiss him. When they parted, Y/n whispered, “Can we be different than everyone else? Can we just… not deal with all the bullshit? And work together and communicate and not fall apart? Or even worse - stay together forever even though the relationship is cannabilizing itself. Can you promise me we’ll never stop talking?”

Sebastian hummed, sighing. “I can promise I’ll always try.”

Y/n nodded. “That’s enough.” And it was. Everything else could fall apart. Their family, their relationship with Blaine. School could end. The Warblers could get usurped. It was all temporary. And maybe this was too, but it was also worth it in a way. Especially because it was temporary. Even if all they had was this week, or if it was for the rest of their lives… they had each other. What more could one person ask for than that?

-

Story tag list: @romanthesleepylizardking @taintedmaroon @shydinosaurcandy @clawzzz

Male readers tag: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[esilher]

Collaborative December klaine challenge 2023 between @esilher and @mynonah

Tiny Friends in the Neighborhood by @mynonah

"Blaine? What are you doing?"

"Feeding Theodore."

"Excuse me?"

"Theodore, this is my fiancé, Kurt." Blaine says, gesturing theatrically between the window and Kurt, "Kurt, this is—"

"It's a squirrel." Kurt interrupts.

"That was rude. Yes, it's a squirrel. Well, there are two of them, but it's early, I think Francesca's still asleep."

Kurt looks at Blaine as if he's suddenly grown a second head. "Okay, while I try to process this... may I ask what he is doing on our ledge? This is how you teach them to keep coming back, Blaine. And one day, they’ll come into the apartment. What are squirrels doing in this tree anyway?"

"The same thing you do inside the building. They live there."

"No." Kurt shakes his head wildly. "They don't belong here. Squirrels inhabit forests. Or at least... wooded areas. Here it's all concrete and people and bustle."

"They probably moved here from Central Park. But they build their nests in trees and that, in front of our window, is a tree. So it seems to me that they are at home, just like us."

"How do they get food here?"

"They are wild animals, they know how to get food. Besides... we are here for them," Blaine adds with a grin. "I looked up what they eat. Would you like to try?"

"Feeding him? No way! What if he bites?"

"Give him food, not your finger. With your palm open. Come on, Kurt, I'm right behind you. You'll love it and Theodore is hungry!"

Kurt rolls his eyes, but steps closer to the window and carefully holds out his hand to the squirrel.

"Oh," he giggles. "He's cute."

"I know, right? Look, there's a little hole. That's where they nest."

"Uh. That can't be too warm..."

"They live in the wild, Kurt. Don't worry about them."

"But winter is coming, Blaine. Theo and Fran need a more secure home than this. Wait, you were gonna make a bird feeder in the spring, remember? Let's do it now," Kurt says excitedly. "Well, mostly you, but I’ll decorate it. Just make it a little bigger. I'll go see what we need to buy and we can go in 20 minutes." Kurt announces with the same enthusiasm, then turns on his heel and hurries back to the living room.

"Wait… Are you serious now?"

"Mhm."

"Five minutes ago you didn't care about them at all and now you want to build them a house."

"It's your fault. You named them, Blaine!"

"Whoa... Okay. Understandable. Maybe I should have named the spiders you found in the bathroom yesterday."

"Ugh... have you killed them yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Then do it. Please."

"I don't know... It's a moral issue, Kurt. A whole family!"

"What? You're such a dork."

"And they're high up..."

"That's not a family."

"Okay. Not a family. Just two random spiders and two random half-sized spiders who happened to meet in the corner of the bathroom and have been hanging out together ever since."

Kurt narrows his eyes at Blaine. "Something like that."

"Hm. I still think they’re a family, though. I'll give them names."

"Don't you dare!"

"Everyone deserves a name, Kurt. Don't be cruel."

"Stop it!"

"Hmm... How about Lucas and... Frederick..."

"Blaine, stop it!"

"...and the kids are Charlotte and... ah, Samuel!"

"Shit! I hate you."

"You love me. Very much. So, are you starting to think they're cute?"

"No! They're spiders, for God’s sake. ...Lucas and Frederick?"

"Yep," Blaine says proudly, grinning from ear to ear. "They're gay. Spider family, Kurt. With two dads. And even if the kids manage to escape in time... A lot of little feet need a lot of little shoes, and you want to murder their parents. But of course, as you wish... I just..."

"Fuck!" Kurt exclaims, throwing his phone on the other side of the couch so suddenly, that he almost falls over.

"What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why did you... Whoa! Oh, my God. You actually googled ‘spiders + pets + feeding’?!"

Kurt holds both hands over his eyes frantically, and Blaine can't help but laugh. "You're cute."

"Could you just... Could you just... Just do something!"

"Should I close this and clear the search history?"

"No! Just... just type ‘TINY’... at the beginning of the text. Please. Tiny spiders. Like Charlotte. Thank you."

"I love you so much."

[kurtsascot]

For the drabble game! Kurt, au: CEO!au, trope: enemies to lovers, prompt: “you had no idea, did you?” :)

~

Blaine’s too fucking happy about this, and Kurt’s obvious disgust only makes Blaine’s smile grow. “You had no idea, did you?! Oh, amazing- This is amazing.”

Insufferable. He’s insufferable. “Don’t get too excited. I knew I was meeting with someone about the merger. Foolishly, I was just hoping it wouldn’t be you.” Kurt sighs and takes the chair next to Blaine. “Let’s get this over with.”

“My pleasure.” Blaine pushes the paperwork across the desk, shit-eating grin still stretching his cheeks. “I’m looking forward to working with you, partner.”

As Kurt signs his name, he’s convinced something inside him dies.

~

send me another drabble prompt

[prismatica-the-strange]

Bite Me | That Bitch Can Eat Her Heart Out

Warnings: 18+, Public (Semi-discrete) sex, toxic possessiveness, p in v, unprotected sex

Cori is already a somewhat jealous person, so when she sees Blaine flirting with Peyton at Human/Zombie Night she makes sure both of them know who he belongs to.

Word Count: 1.2k

Song: Love Bites (So Do I) by Halestorm

Human/Zombie night has been their busiest night since it was started. So Cori is surprised Blaine has time to stand around talking while she runs around, helping Don E behind the bar.

That's when she notices who he's talking to, acting mayor, little Miss Perfect. AKA Peyton Charles.

She knows that smile he's giving her, and she can see her blushing at it. Cori's blood boils at the sight of them casually flirting and her eyes go red.

"Uh oh," Don E snickers, "I know that look. Someone's gonna die."

Blaine looks back at what he was doing when she goes to join her friends, a pleased smirk on his lips and she seriously considers ripping his throat out.

She doesn't say a word, just sets the glass she was cleaning on the bar and walks toward him.

"I'll just tend the bar myself then?" Don E asks, but she ignores him.

She takes Blaine by the hand once he's in reach and he looks up at her.

"Hey, beautiful," He smiles, looking confused when she tugs his arm, "Something wrong?"

"Just come with me."

He does, weaving through the crowd to the other side of the club, just two booths away from where Liv, Peyton, and Ravi are.

She pushes him onto the leather cushion, into the corner, and moves to straddle his thighs.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" He asks, lips stretching into a wide grin. His hands find her hips and he tilts his head back when she kisses him.

Her hands slide beneath the collar of his shirt, squeezing and scratching his chest and shoulders.

"Mmm, Cori," He hums against her lips, "Not that I'm not loving the attention, but what brought this-"

The words stick in his throat when she rolls her hips against his.

"Fu-fuck," He murmurs, feeling himself getting harder with every roll of her body against his, "Cori, baby."

He tries to stand, to lift her so he can bring her back to the office to fuck her, but she grips the back of the booth, keeping them there.

His eyebrows furrow when she pulls away and reaches between them.

"Cori!" His eyes go wide at the sound of his zipper being undone.

"Shhh," She leans down and starts kissing down his neck, "Lemme make you feel good, no one'll know."

He lets out a breathy laugh, hands catching her shirt when he runs them up her back.

"W-what's gotten into you?" He hisses when she palms him through his boxers, "Baby... hah- Cori. Hey, hey."

He pulls her hands away and leans back so he can look at her.

"What's going on?" He looks concerned.

She cups his face and kisses him again, "You're mine."

"Of course I am, sweetheart," He assures her, "Is that what this is about?"

"Need you to say it," She pouts against his lips.

"Cor, there's people around."

She notices the way he shifts beneath her, pressing his bulge against her leg.

"Need to hear you say it," She insists, "Blaine, please."

The needy whine in her voice is turning him on like crazy. He wants to make her cry his name in that voice and beg him for more.

"Oh honey," He coos, fingers running through her hair, "Lemme take you back to the office and we can- Shit! Cori!"

He throws his head back when she grinds down hard on him, breath catching when she drags her tongue up his exposed neck.

"You know, you're making it real h-hard to be a gentleman here."

"I don't remember asking you to be a gentleman," She says, "I only want one thing, and it isn't that."

She tugs his boxers down just enough to grip his hard cock, his eyes screwing shut at the slow pump of her fist.

"Say it and you can have me however you want me," She growls.

"H-huh?" He's already forgotten what they were talking about, lost in the feel of her.

"Blaine?"

He yanks her hips forward, fingers delving beneath her skirt. He lets out a pleased groan when he feels how soaked her panties are before pulling them aside.

He tries to hide the moan forcing its way from him against her neck as he slides into her.

"Fuck, baby," He kisses her skin and sighs, "You're gonna get us in trouble, sweetheart."

His head falls back when she starts to move, slowly rolling her hips, pussy fluttering around him.

She looks up at the group a few tables down, but Peyton is too involved in her conversation to notice her glare.

"Feel so good, Cor," Blaine brings her full attention back to him, the way his Adam's apple bounces when he says her name. She picks up the pace slightly and he keens, "Fuck baby, jus like that."

She tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him up to look at her. His eyes are unfocused and she almost laughs when she realizes.

"Poor thing," She teases, "I've barely even started and he's already pussy drunk."

Something about her taking control turns him to mush, it always has, even before he was a zombie.

It's like when he's looking up at her like this, his adoration comes out in an unstoppable wave of words and touches.

His hands slide under her shirt, feeling her skin against his.

"Love you," He sighs as he presses his lips to her throat, "Need you."

"Tell me you're mine," She whimpers. She grips his shoulders, riding him harder, both of them moaning at the feeling, "Please, Blaine."

"I'm yours, Cori! I'm yours! I-I'm yours!" He whines. He presses his forehead to the base of her throat, mouth falling open with a groan as he cums, "'M yours. 'm all yours. Jesus fuck, Coriander, I'm yours!"

"That's right, baby. All- ah!" She grips his hair tight, and he gasps for air when she clenches around him, her orgasm washing over her. She looks up to meet Peyton's shocked stare, a proud and blissed-out grin spreading across her face, "All mine."

He leans his head back when she lets go, chest heaving as he cranes his neck to see what she was looking at.

"Oh, come on!" He laughs through heavy breaths, "Is that it?"

Cori looks down at him, anger and insecurity flooding her veins.

"Honey," He holds her cheeks and pulls her into a warm kiss, "Sweetheart... Angel."

He smiles up at her, lovesick and amused.

"Are you jealous?" His teasing tone makes her want to cry, "Don't be. She's not the one with my dick in her, is she?"

He kisses her again, just as lovingly as before.

"And you shouldn't have to worry about her going after me again, not after that little show of marking your territory."

When he puts it like that it fills her with embarrassment and she curls in on herself to hide in his arms.

"Aw, no," He laughs, holding her close, "Don't be embarrassed! You're hot when you're possessive."

"Shut up!"

"Maybe I should flirt with more girls if that's what it takes to get you to take charge."

She sits back and hits his shoulder, "Don't you dare!"

He cups her cheek and runs his thumb against her skin.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't," He murmurs, kissing her softly, "I'm all yours."

[jacobbenisreal]

“Cool. Is your mom a big business woman, or are you a business major, or something” JBI was aware of the fancy building, but had never connected it to Hunter. Now he wondered how much info he was missing out on because he didn’t look into everyone’s mother’s side of the family. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d give it to me. Most people refuse. But, if you’re down… heck yeah, Zaddy. I’m into muscular calves, by the way.” A grin. He wasn't Blaine Anderson, but he liked the guy's confidence. “I know my shit. Most of the time. Horror movies, action, sci-fi, but I’ll watch anything except biographical documentaries and romance movies where the couple gets married just because one of them is going to die soon. Yup, regular square sandwiches. Basically, that’s all eat. You want me to make you a sandwich sometime? Wink”

"It's the Oberlin Building, a lot of Business classes are held there." His smile grows a bit wider, always proud to mention his mother. She is afterall the true money maker in the family. His father's rank in the airforce being no laughing matter either, but her income was a whole other tax bracket from daddy dearest. "And why exactly are you so keen on getting my number? Hoping to flirt away with me in the wee hours of the morning?" His voice comes out teasingly as he watches the phone be tucked away into the boys pocket. If need be he could always block the kid, though he wondered how easily his buttons could be pressed. At hearing his name and ulterior motives though he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in interest. "Oh so you really know who I am, color me impressed. So little fresh meat what kind of movies are you into? And are we talking classic school lunch, little triangle sandwiches, or a foot long?"

[nickblaine]

commander blaine’s shit-eating grin at fred’s funeral.... absolute legend

[measuringbliss]

My issue with Sebastian is that he basically disappeared as soon as I really started to find him fun.

Like as soon as you see him, you know he's going to be trouble. He ostensibly flirts with Blaine right in front of the latter's boyfriend, has a shit-eating grin... He's a menace.

At first he annoyed me because I found him quite cliché and didn't pay him any mind. But then he appeared again. And again. And I started wishing that Blaine and Sebastian actually would kiss or even (*shudder*) date! I thought that it would be very fun.

And then he slushied Blaine and sent him in the hospital and I was ON BOARD with the ship.

And then the plotline fizzled out and Sebastian's come-back had him do a complete turnaround and stop being a jerk. And then he basically became a non-entity.

My reaction?

"Well shit."

So I was pretty surprised that there was actually quite a following for Kurt/Sebastian (Kurtbastian?), which I absolutely hadn't seen coming, and far less stuff for Sebastian/Blaine (... Blainastian? Seblaine?).

[kurtstinypurse]

college au where kurt and blaine have been dating just for a couple months

burt calls while kurt and blaine are lying in bed, and blaine tells kurt he should answer, so he does. burt asks all the usual catch-up questions: how’s your dorm room, how’s your roommate, how are classes?

and then, “how’s it going with that boy you’ve been seeing? you in love?”

kurt freezes, knows blaine can hear every word burt is saying because he’s lying so close, knows also that it’s early and he has so many feelings but he doesn’t know if it should feel like this yet and if blaine is on the same page but he has to say something and doesn’t know what and then he stutters, says-

“it might be going in that direction, yeah”

his cheeks are flooded with heat, belly swirling with nerves for the whole rest of the phone call, and he sees blaine grinning out of the corner of his eye, but he’s afraid to look over until the call ends, until blaine erupts into giggles.

“what’s so funny?” kurt asks around the lump in his throat, finally meeting blaine’s, finding them sparkling, all melted warm honey, full of light.

“he asked if you’re in looooove,” blaine teases, raising his eyebrows, shit-eating grin widening enough to send a bolt of confidence through kurt, who doesn’t hesitate.

“are you?” he asks, the question coming out a little more accusatory than he meant it, but he’s lost his grip on the situation minutes ago, unsure of what’s right and wrong and okay anymore.

and then blaine’s eyes soften, and so does his smile.

so does his voice when he says:

“I do love you, yeah. I do.”

“well, I love you, too,” kurt whispers, reaching for blaine’s hand, hooking two of their fingers together, squeezing, smiling.

and that’s that.

[raleighcarrera]

saved by the bell

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

blaine springs kennedy from her date in chapter 10.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T) / outpoint (T) / parry (E) / pulling punches (T) / ringside (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes ; @levineseth ; @gryffindordaughterofathena ; @thefirstcourtesan ; @josieplayschoices 

~3.5k words | T

he’s not going to look.

no matter how much his phone lights up with incoming notification after incoming notification, he’s not going to look. blaine refuses to torture himself by checking for photos of kennedy’s date, though his curiosity is eating him alive.

it’s a nice reprieve from worrying about her, at any rate, even if it is maddening.

lately it feels like all he’s done is worry about her, though that’s mostly because kennedy looks to be about an inch away from tears every time she’s around -- not that it’s often, anymore. there’s absolutely nothing worse than seeing her suffer from the sidelines; he still feels just as helpless as he did when he watched her give that first disastrous press conference in his dorm, the day after the pictures hit voyeur. 

it’s unbelievably frustrating, being forced to sit on his hands and watch everyone else try to control her life. kennedy’s under a microscope like neither of them have ever been before, and for the first time in his life, he’s in the uncomfortable position of having to be careful -- not because he gives a shit about himself or his own reputation, but because of her, and what it might do to her if he was reckless.

he’s bitten his tongue more times in the last week than he has in his entire life. it’d taken every last ounce of his self control not to snap and defend kennedy at the pet store, not to panic when she’d clued him in on her mom’s newest pr strategy, not to keep her locked in the teacher’s lounge with him for the rest of the semester and refuse to let her go when she snuck out to meet him.

already he knows he’ll never forget the names and faces of the classmates of theirs that’d picked on her. if he ever really does wind up in charge in ardona, one day, he’ll come to power with a ready-made list of enemies, all because of the way they’d made her look when she sunk down low into her seat in class, her shoulders hunched in shame.

he’s laying in bed, moping miserably, thinking over it all when peter pokes his head in with a hesitant knock. “how’re you holding up?” he asks, tactfully, given that blaine’s pretty sure he looks utterly awful. “those daily post photos were... rough.”

blaine groans, burying his face in his hands. “i’m not looking at them. i don’t want to know.”

“that’s probably for the best,” peter says sympathetically, and that does it -- seals the deal completely. he reaches for his phone, snatching it off the nightstand.

dionne’s also texted him, which means the photos are as bad as he’s hoping they won’t be. his stomach twists into knots as he navigates to his favorite gossip site, certain the pictures he’s looking for will be plastered all over the homepage.

sure enough -- there they are: kennedy and alexei, huddled together outside of some swanky restaurant, hand-in-hand. she’s all dressed up for the occasion, because with alexei she’s allowed to be; she doesn’t have to sneak out to see him, hidden under a baseball hat in some far away place where no one will recognize either of them. the point of this date is to be seen, and judging by the crowd of flashing lights surrounding them, they’ve done a perfect job selling their relationship to the press.

so the second picture accompanying the story is an unnecessary twist of the knife -- complete overkill. they’re kissing, in this one, lips pressed together chastely just outside the limo. he feels nauseous.

“they’re probably having a terrible time,” peter says, though blaine’s still staring at his phone, eyes fixed on the photo in his hands. “i heard that restaurant is horrible.”

“it’s fine,” blaine says hollowly, tapping back to his texts to answer dionne. she wants to know how he is, too, and he gives her the same answer: fine. everything is fine.

“you’re so full of shit,” dionne says, when she shows up at his dorm twenty minutes later, her arms folded across her chest and her expression unimpressed.

yeah. he forgot she knows him so well. “well -- whatever,” blaine sighs, dragging a hand down his face. it doesn’t matter. it has to not matter, for kennedy’s sake. “it’s not like i can do anything about it. this is the way it has to be.”

the look in dionne’s eyes grows distant, and he sits up slowly as a smile starts to overtake her face, cautiously optimistic while what’s obviously an evil plan begins to unfurl. “no,” dionne says, “it’s not. i think i have an idea.”

so -- that’s how he finds himself sweating through his jacket, overthinking this whole stupid plan while he waits for kennedy to slip out the back of the stupid opera house and meet him and his stupid rental car in the alley. he thinks back over all the ways they’d had to cover his tracks to get him here: how peter’d had to call in the car, how dionne’d had to threaten and sweet talk alexei at the same time, how there isn’t a single hurdle he wouldn’t leap or hoop he wouldn’t jump through for even just half an evening alone with her.

this is probably a terrible idea. at the very least, it’s dangerous, and sure to get them fucking caught again, no matter how careful they all were in making it happen.

maybe he should call the whole thing off. call dionne and get her to tell kennedy to forget it -- to go back to her date and take the easy way out, because who is he kidding, anyway?

the sound of heels on the cobblestones takes the decision swiftly out of his hands. blaine looks up to see kennedy standing in front of him, admiring the rental with a gentle smirk on her beautiful face. she looks even more ridiculously gorgeous than she had in the daily post pictures, as annoying as that is. 

she’s alone.

“no limo? that’s not very romantic, mr. hayes,” she teases playfully, mouth stretched wide with a smile.

he leans over to pop the door open for her, grinning to cover up his nerves. just having kennedy around is going a long way towards keeping him calm -- he feels undeniably more sane out here with her than he had in his room, pouting with fruitless jealousy. “take it up with dionne,” he shrugs, eyes raking up and down her outfit. she really does look nice. “now hop in.”

“we have three hours and forty-five minutes,” kennedy says helpfully, as soon as they’ve slipped out of town unseen and headed to the highway, “i have to be back by curtain.”

“i know,” blaine hums, sighing with relief as soon as he glances in the rearview mirror and sees they aren’t being followed, “dionne briefed me. she figured out a whole plan.”

“oh,” kennedy says. she sounds... happy. “that was really nice of her.” there’s a pause, and he fidgets with the steering wheel for a moment before shifting his left hand up to the top to steer so his right arm is free to drape across the back of kennedy’s seat. she leans in closer to the center console and continues, “i really wish it was you in there with me.”

he exhales heavily. more relieving than not being followed, than being with her at all is hearing that -- that he’s not alone in his insanity. lately he feels like a completely different person, and he has no idea what’s come over him, so it’s comforting to know that it’s all for something, beyond just making kennedy smile. evidently, she wants to be his stupid girlfriend just as badly as he wants her to. “me, too. you have no idea. i’ve really missed you, these past few days.”

“i know. it’s weird,” kennedy agrees, “hardly seeing you. not being able to text you, and tell you about my day... i mean -- i barely even get to talk to you, outside of class.”

yeah. he knows. and when there’s other people around he has to watch what he fucking says, too. it’s far from ideal, and he knows he’s gotten sloppy, but...

part of him almost wants someone to catch them. blaine knows it’s selfish and stupid, but he wants it all the same. because if someone found out the truth and spilled the beans... they’d be free, and the impossible decision of what to do next would be out of their hands.

he could never ask kennedy to go public on her own. he would never ask her for that, no matter how badly he wants it. but a slip-up... that would be beyond their control.

blaine shakes his head. “it’s fine,” he says again, clearing his throat, “i’ll plan some secret meet up for us every night, if you want. even if it only buys us a few minutes.”

he glances to the side just in time to catch the look that crosses her face. kennedy’s quite obviously touched by his offer, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she stares down at her hands. forcefully, he drags his eyes back to the road. “i’d really like that,” she murmurs, so quietly he almost misses it. when he only nods, she raises her voice and asks, “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he directs, taking the exit that’ll bring them to the drive-in, mentally cataloging the travel time it’d taken to get up here and making a note of the minutes he’ll need to account for to get kennedy back, especially if he has to circle the block until the street is empty before he drops her off. 

her eyes light up when he pulls into the parking lot. “a drive-in theater, seriously? i used to love going to the drive-in back home. i didn’t know they had them near vancross.” her nose is practically pressed against the window as she looks around excitedly while he idles.

“this is my first time,” blaine admits, though how eager kennedy is definitely bodes well for the experience. even if it completely sucked, he’d still bring her back every weekend, just to see her smile like that. “we don’t really have these in ardona, but dionne talked it up.”

kennedy finally peels her eyes away from the window to smile playfully at him again, her eyes sparkling. “so you’re a drive-in virgin? interesting.”

his face feels hot, suddenly. blaine rolls his eyes at her, gesturing at the map of the venue in front of them. they’re kind of holding up the line. “yeah, yeah. pick your movie, rutherland. it’s just background noise for the real show, anyway.”

if he’s being honest, he barely hears her make her choice, the instructions on where to go flying in one ear and out the other. all he cares about for where he parks the car is that it’s secluded, and dark, away from prying eyes and any other people in the lot.

fortunately, blaine finds them the perfect spot, and he doesn’t even waste a second pretending like he gives a single shit about the movie at all, his eyes on her just as soon as the gear shift’s out of his hand.

kennedy’s turned in her seat and already looking back at him. she smiles and says, “thanks for doing this. it’s nice to have a normal date. i never pegged you as the type of guy who was all about carnivals and drive-ins and making these fun experiences for us.”

he shrugs, more nonchalantly than he feels. “probably ‘cause i’m not,” blaine answers honestly, “but everything’s different, with you.”

kennedy makes a soft sound of disbelief, lifting her hands to cover her face. when she peeks out from between her fingers, he sees that she’s smiling widely again. “you keep saying stuff like that. it’s so charming.”

blaine laughs, reaching out to tug her hands off her face. “that’s kind of the point.” he clears his throat, then continues more seriously, “but... i want you to know how i feel, you know? you shouldn’t have to guess. the truth is... i’ve been all-in for awhile, now, and -- those pictures were just a shitty setback. they don’t change the way i feel about you at all.”

she reaches out for his hand, and he lets her lace their fingers together, squeezing affectionately. “you have no idea how nice it feels to hear that,” kennedy sighs. “honestly...” the hesitation in her voice makes it clear she’s unsure of whatever she’s about to say, but she continues, “it kind of just felt like i ruined everything. things were actually going pretty well, for once, but now it’s like there’s this... dark cloud hanging over everything i do. i can’t even hang out with you without worrying we’re going to get caught again.”

his expression softens. he’s not usually one for optimism, but for her, and in the interest of getting some of that thick sadness out of her voice, he’ll try. “well, we’ve done a pretty good job avoiding that so far.”

“that’s true.” kennedy’s head tips back agains the carseat, and she smiles at him again. “i guess we’re making it work, in our own way. i love that i can always count on you to be real with me. it’s so -- refreshing, after all the fake posturing we deal with.”

well -- that’s probably as good an opening as he’s ever going to get. he spares a moment to silently thank whatever god is listening for the chance to ask the question that’s been eating at him for hours, the one thing he’s most desperate to know, beyond even the other stuff that usually keeps him up at night, everything from the simple inner workings of kennedy’s mind to why he’s so tripped up over a girl he’s only spent a few short months with. “speaking of fake...” blaine pointedly looks somewhere beyond her, staring out at the parking lot, “how’d your date go?”

kennedy’s quiet for long enough that he has to look back at her. there’s a knowing little glint in her eyes that he decidedly does not like. “are you jealous?”

“what?” he scoffs, “of course not. you left alexei to go out with me.”

“right,” she laughs, one small word injected with endless disbelief. “well, we had a good time. alexei’s not so bad.”

he’s an egomaniac and a self-centered prick, actually, blaine thinks. out loud, he says, “oh. cool. glad it worked out. cool, cool, cool...”

he fidgets restlessly. kennedy’s visible amusement only grows. “you know it was still a fake date, right? neither of us have any interest in the other.”

“i know,” blaine insists defensively. kennedy only arches an eyebrow at him. with a groan, he slumps back in his seat, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “fine, maybe i am a little jealous. give me a break, okay? this is kind of a unique situation for me.”

“if it helps, i think you’re doing a pretty great job.” she’s still smiling at him, but less like she thinks he’s being funny and more like she thinks he’s being sweet. she leans in a little closer, and -- it actually does help. the knots in his stomach that’d been coiled there since she first said her mom’s team was planning a pr relationship for her are finally starting to unwind.

“yeah?” he asks, gratified by the immediate nod she gives. “that’s good. i don’t wanna half-ass this boyfriend stuff just because it’s new to me.”

there’s a long stretch of silence. he realizes what he’s said all at once and starts to feel nauseous all over again, staring silently back at kennedy while he waits for her to say something -- anything.

“boyfriend stuff?” 

“ah.” his hand slips around to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry. slipped out.” he should probably just cut his losses now -- bring her back early to be on the safe side and go back to his dorm and drown himself in the shower, because he is an idiot and that’s what an idiot deserves. “i know you kind of already have a boyfriend.”

kennedy huffs out a quiet laugh. “i kind of do.” she tilts her head to meet his eyes, forcing him to look at her again. his heart stutters painfully in his chest, picking up into a pace that’s almost frantic. “but... that’s not a ‘no.’”

their hands are still linked together. he looks down at where their fingers are interlaced, hoping his palms aren’t as sweaty as they feel. blaine disentangles his hand to lift it instead to kennedy’s face, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with a hesitant smile she immediately returns tenfold. 

it’s also not a ‘yes,’ but he’ll take what he can get. 

as it turns out, three hours and forty-five minutes is kind of not actually a long time at all.

or maybe it would be, for some people, but with kennedy in his lap, squished between him and the steering wheel so she can kiss him senseless, the time flies by. they watch what’s probably ten minutes total of the movie, they’re so busy kissing and talking, his hands wandering along her new outfit to show his appreciation for it the only way he knows how.

for her part, kennedy gives as good as she gets, tugging his hair out of place and messing up his jacket and making him forget his own name, with the way her hips are pushing into his lap and all the sweet little sounds she makes when he whispers something dirty in her ear and presses her in closer against him.

no amount of agonizing over her fake dates and not being able to kiss her in public is ever going to drive the way she shivers with her whole body when he says something she likes from his mind.

still, the drive back is somber. it’s time to bring kennedy -- kiss-swollen lips and raised hemlines and all -- back to the opera house before he knows it, and he’s really not looking forward to everyone who sees her thinking she spent four hours fooling around in the private box with alexei, of all people. he’s looking forward to driving home alone and going to bed by himself even less.

tomorrow he’ll have to sit by her in class again and pretend like everything’s fine.

because they had tonight, and he knows he should be content with that. the problem is -- he’s not. 

“you okay?” kennedy asks, checking the time on the watch on his wrist with a frown. she’s holding his hand in both of hers. “and don’t say you’re ‘fine.’”

“i am fine,” blaine insists, running his thumb across her wrist. “this sucks, but it’s what we have to do. if you’re good, then i’m good.”

she studies his expression for a minute, then sighs. “i’m as good as i can be,” she murmurs, “but things will get better.”

he knows that, too. even if no one ever finds out it’s him in the photos, even if they have to spend the rest of their lives sneaking out and ditching their bodyguards so they can find a few hours alone together -- things are good. the alternative -- winning the fight with his parents to keep him away from vancross, never getting the chance to know kennedy as well as he does... that’s a future that seems bleak, now that he’s seen the alternative.

“it’s really alright,” blaine assures her. “i’ll miss you, but... do what you gotta do.”

something about the way he says the words seems to instill new confidence in kennedy. she straightens her shoulders and glances back at the opera house door with determination. “thanks,” kennedy sighs, squeezing his hand one last time before slowly pulling away. she probably has only seconds until the finale starts up, though he’s desperate for a way to make them stretch longer. an eternity would be a nice place to start.

“will you... text dionne goodnight before you go to bed?” she asks, looking so hopeful he finds it’s impossible to do anything other than nod.

he grins widely at kennedy, leaning in to steal one last kiss. “dream about me, will ya?”

“every night,” she promises, and blaine lowers the window to get a better view of her and the sway of her hips when she slips out of the car and back inside, sighing heavily once she’s gone and he’s alone again, whacking his head against the carseat.

this is some mess they’ve gotten themselves into.

but, he figures, as he pulls away from the curb and starts back towards campus, the image of kennedy walking away in the heels and skirt she’d been wearing playing over and over again in his mind like a highlight reel, it’s definitely not without its perks.

[kuiinncedes]

dreaming like we'll live forever

@gleeadvent day 4: dough :D very very late lmaoo but it's all good 🤪

so this is likeee in my kurt and the phantoms au i guess?? i didn't give too much thought to the timeline tho so idk if i'll end up like keeping these details in that main work, but i did just make a series for it to add this to lol 😋 but yeah like it might not actually align with the main work as "canon" i guess if that makes sense hgjlkdf

you don't really need to read the main work to read this, all you probably need to know is that blaine, sam, and tina died and came back as ghosts and are in a band with kurt who is not a ghost :] if you've seen jatp i think this kinda takes place uhh like after flying solo ish in the show timeline 🤪

[ also, a scrapped line that came to me while i was struggling to think of something for this prompt but i didn't know how to write the context for lmao: “Tina’s about to storm Netflix headquarters with a spatula and a bowl of cookie dough,” Puck says. "And I'm right there with you," he assures hurriedly when Tina's nearly murderous gaze fixes on him.

i had One thing on my mind when i was trying to write for this prompt XD the vision was that nd is all like hanging out and tina's making cookies bc why not and they're chilling and someone's like OH SHIT JATP GOT CANCELLED and they're all pissed at netflix bc they all watched it together <3 fuck netflix for cancelling their best show and also taking glee off <3 ]

title from "now or never" from the jatp soundtrack and it starts with d yay :DDD

warning for a small mention of kurt's mom's death, i think that's the only thing ?

1413 words, read on ao3 or under the cut <3 !!

A thud breaks Kurt’s focus on his homework; he jumps and looks up to see Blaine across the table from him, having just poofed in, probably -- which would explain why Kurt didn’t notice him -- and slapped his hands down on the table. “Hey,” Blaine says, with a cheeky grin and bright eyes.

Kurt puts his pencil down, a smile pulling at his lips. “Hey. You scared me.”

“I’m a ghost, that’s my job.”

Kurt raises a teasing eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were that type of ghost.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Blaine says, both eyebrows raised. His arms are crossed in front of him on the table, and Kurt mirrors his position, leaning forward.

“You’re perky,” he remarks. “So then are you the type of ghost who just likes to distract students working on homework? Or did you actually need something?”

“I’m here to tell you to stop studying so hard,” Blaine teases, but then he bounces up from his seat. “It’s Sam’s birthday today. I was wondering if we could make something for him?”

“Like…?” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “You remember you guys can’t eat and, like, can barely touch things.”

Blaine exhales, pouting a little. Kurt restrains an almost-smile at his expression.

“I know,” Blaine says. “It’s the thought that counts?”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, but Kurt just shrugs; he doesn’t have too much to do for tomorrow. (And maybe he wants to spend more time with Blaine.) He’s bored. “I’m down,” Kurt says. When Blaine’s eyes immediately light up, Kurt can’t help but smile with him.

--

Three ghosts face him from the other side of the kitchen counter, looking probably all too eager considering the fact that they can’t really… do much. Blaine called the others in through their weird telepathic link or something that Kurt definitely does not understand and has not bothered to understand, since the whole ghost thing is just weird anyway. There’s a whole ghost thing in the first place -- the ghosts having some kind of internal bond is the least of his concerns.

They poofed in and -- after Kurt’s hesitant clarification of “I’m just… making cookies for myself, then?” -- assured him that they would be fine with more or less just watching him bake, and especially Sam looked so genuine and wistful at the idea of just chocolate chip cookies, they were my favorite that Kurt had to cave.

“And this way these two can’t eat all the cookie dough before we do anything with it,” Blaine says pointedly, giving Sam and Tina a look to which they respond with playful laughs and a light shove to Blaine’s shoulder. He rolls his eyes, muttering, “Surprised you guys didn’t die from salmonella first.”

“It’s cookie dough, Blaine!” Sam exclaims, Tina wide-eyed and pointing at him in agreement. “What were we supposed to do?”

“Wait until it was baked , maybe?”

Kurt laughs and watches as they bicker and fall into their familiar dynamic that he definitely doesn’t fit into, but is starting to understand a little more. He still feels hesitant to do this, but… they’re the ones who can’t eat the cookies, and they’re the ones who initiated it, so the blame isn't really on him if they end up regretting it.

And yeah. He doesn’t think he could stand up to their collective pleading faces again. He grabs a bowl from the cabinet. At least he gets cookies out of this.

--

Apparently, being dead and mostly unable to touch anything does not deter ghosts from being annoyances, extreme at times. At least these three ghosts.

Kurt does enjoy himself, though, and it seems like they do as well, admirably avoiding why they can’t touch what they so want to touch, and instead giving that topic a wide, wide berth and just messing around. And they do have an impenetrable dynamic at times, but Kurt doesn’t feel excluded at all, even if only because he is the one who has to do everything.

Blaine tries to give him tips and Kurt laughs and emphasizes again that he’s made this cookie recipe many times, and Tina swings her legs from her perch on the counter, and Sam leans in close beside Blaine, who wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple, and Kurt looks down with a small smile and hears him whisper, “Happy birthday.”

Tina hops off the counter and hugs both of them from behind, also expressing her own birthday wishes as Kurt puts the cookies in the oven, finally.

“Happy birthday, Sam!” Kurt says too when he turns back to them. “I just wish I could do more for you, get you an actual cake or present.”

He wishes he could take that back, suddenly realizing it might be too close to the d-word topic, but Sam’s bright smile doesn’t falter. “It’s okay! Watching Blaine make cookies was always almost as good as having them.” Kurt laughs, a bit disbelieving but he is glad to hear it.

“You’re already the best part of our afterlives,” Blaine assures him. “I think every day we’re here is a good enough present for all of us.”

“No wonder you’re the songwriter and lead singer, with those cheesy words and the looks,” Kurt quips back before his brain can catch up to his mouth. Heat rushes to his face and he hopes against all odds that it doesn’t show, but he knows it’s pointless with his pale skin. It is a little better when he sees that Blaine’s face flushes dark as well.

Sam and Tina look at each of them and at each other with growing grins, clearly holding back laughs and Kurt ignores them.

“Pretty sure I’m bringing people in with my looks,” Sam says after an awkward moment of Kurt trying not to make eye contact with Blaine.

“Sure,” Tina drawls, grinning. “Isn’t it ‘Kurt and the Phantoms’? Isn’t Kurt the one bringing our audience in, since, you know, we’re literally invisible half the time?”

“Most of the time,” Kurt corrects teasingly.

Tina nods. “So it's all Kurt. Our looks don’t even matter.”

“Pretty sure it’s actually just all Tina,” Blaine argues. Unanimous agreement rings from the rest of them while restraining wide smiles and bursting laughs.

“And you put me behind the drums!” Tina exclaims with pretend outrage, crossing her arms. “Imagine the success if I was in front.”

They’re all laughing and keep joking about rearranging the band to maximize their “success,” which turns into deciding who would be worst on each instrument, because apparently Blaine is some sort of musical genius, beyond his incredible melodies and lyrics and into proficiency in almost every common instrument they manage to name. Except drums, which Tina seems to take some sort of pride in.

Kurt takes the cookies out of the oven when the timer goes off, setting them aside to cool, and is surprised when the ghosts include him back into the conversation seamlessly, like wordlessly pulling him into an intangible group hug. They do have their own incredibly close relationship, forged from probably many years of knowing each other, that Kurt both admires and envies fiercely -- but this makes Kurt feel like he could be a part of it.

And he wants to be a part of it; he doesn’t know what it is, but like it felt right to let them stay in the studio, like it felt warm and right to jump into the performance with them and agree to join a band with them, he feels that warmth now, spending this time with them, and at the prospect of keeping them around, spending more time with them, growing and continuing as a band.

When his mom died, he couldn’t think about the future -- not a future without her in it. He could only take it day by day, hour by hour, couldn’t let his thoughts go down that road. So it startles him a little now, to realize that he wants this band to last, wants it in his future, can envision this in his future…

But there is the problem of them being ghosts. And he’s suddenly unsure and unstable all over again, about if there is a future this way.

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind to join the others in laughing and cheering at Sam’s body rolls, back to proving his “true frontman potential!” as the uneaten, unable-to-be-eaten birthday cookies fill the air with sweetness and home.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Carolina in My Mind” (Rated PG)

Summary: Things get a little spicy when Sebastian decides that Kurt and Blaine are going to start doing TikTok challenges... in part to exact revenge on his boyfriend for covering him in glitter and posting photos on Instagram. (1845 words)

Notes: It's not as lurid as the summary makes it sound XD Makes a reference to an earlier quarantine one-shot 'All The Glitters'.

Part 67 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

"We're doing TikTok challenges now!?" Kurt groans, sliding to a halt in front of his boyfriend, arms crossed over his chest before he comes to a stop.

Sebastian beams, flashing Kurt his iPhone screen with the app already open. "Ah. I see you got my message." 

"Aren't we already living through hell? Do we have to add humiliation to the mix?"

"You're one to talk! If you get to cover us in makeup and glitter and post photos on Instagram, I get to do this!"

"But that performance makeup contest was hosted by the ISI," Blaine points out. "What merit does a TikTok challenge have?"

Sebastian watches Blaine glide to a stop beside his boyfriend and pulls a face. "Well, Doubty McDoubterson, tons of people join TikTok every day, including figure skaters. You two were worried about staying in the public eye during the pandemic. This will be great visibility for us within the skating community."

"A-ha." Kurt shares a skeptical side glance with Blaine. "Now, why don't you tell us why we're really doing this."

Sebastian gasps, stumbling back as if punched in the face. "Kurt! I'm wounded! Deeply wounded! I'm being completely honest here! I'm only thinking of you guys, working hard to keep your names in the mouths of... "

"Before you say another word," Kurt interrupts with a finger raised, "may I remind you that you have a five o'clock sesh riding on this answer."

Sebastian's mouth hangs open, caught around the next word. But a beat later, he snaps it shut. "Fine. We're doing this because we've been on lockdown for about ten years and I'm bored to tears!"

"Nice," Kurt says, "seeing as you've spent all of quarantine with us."

"Will you be partaking?" Blaine rushes in before Sebastian can shove his foot any further down his throat. He's not being entirely selfless, but he'd rather not admit out loud that Sebastian's plan is a decent one, ulterior motives aside. Blaine has a TikTok account and has wasted plenty of precious training time scrolling through clips. Sebastian is right - a lot of figure skaters post on there, even some big names in their sport. It's a better platform for it than Instagram. If they pull this off, they could become TikTok famous, and that wouldn't exactly hurt when they make their comebacks.

"I am." Sebastian wiggles his camera in front of their faces. "I'm the cameraman."

"Of course," Kurt mutters under his breath. "So what's the challenge?" he asks, eager to get this over with, hoping he doesn't regret it too much later. "It is a skating challenge, right?"

"Of course it's a skating challenge! In fact, you guys get to perform your routines... " Kurt stares at his grinning boyfriend, waiting for the shoe to drop. And it does when Sebastian picks up a small paper bag off the boards and holds it out to them "... after you've eaten this pepper. There's one in there for each of you."

"I guess it's too much to hope it's a bell pepper," Kurt remarks as Blaine takes the bag and opens the top. He reaches a hand in and pulls out a bright reddish-orange vegetable the size of his thumb. Kurt recognizes it right away, his eyes going wide at the Carolina Reaper pinched between Blaine's fingertips.

"A little bit, yeah," Blaine says.

"What th---? Aren't those things illegal?" Kurt asks, on the brink of turning and running, leaving his friend behind to suffer the consequences.

"Nope. They're perfectly legal," Sebastian says. "And they won't cause any permanent damage. I checked."

"That's so nice of you."

"Come on! This'll be fun!"

"For you! You're running the camera!"

"I've got you guys. Look! I brought you some milk for after," he says, producing the smallest, middle-school carton of two percent in existence. How he expects the both of them to share that, Kurt doesn't know. It's probably part of the schtick, Kurt thinks, to cap off the hilarity - the two of them fighting over seven ounces of milk with their mouths on fire. "Also... " Sebastian deliberates when he feels himself losing ground, running through options in his head he hopes Kurt might jump at so he can get his TikTok "... I'll let you pick the next challenge. Then you can be the cameraman."

A malicious grin spreads across Kurt's face, but Sebastian squashes it with the stipulation: "But remember - whatever you make me do, Blaine has to do, too."

"Don't I get any say in this?" Blaine asks.

"No," Sebastian answers without looking at him.

"Well, do I get a turn at choosing?"

"Maybe... provided Kurt agrees to my conditions."

Kurt glares at his manipulative ass of a boyfriend, putting him on the spot in the name of social media currency. But what the heck? This could be fun. Plus, turnabout is fair play. He'll get Sebastian back. 

Oh yes. He'll get him back.

Besides, Kurt isn't a stranger to spicy foods. His dad has put plenty of red and green gremlins, each residing on different ends of the Scoville scale, in that disastrous chili he makes every fourth of July. How much worse could eating this one raw be?

"Fine." Kurt snatches the pepper out of Blaine's hand but doesn't bring it anywhere near his mouth.

Blaine, on the other hand, goes all in, grabbing his pepper out of the bag, popping it into his mouth, chewing like crazy, and then swallowing, probably in the hopes that it would hurt less if he did it fast, like pulling off a Bandaid. Then he skates off.

His plan doesn't work too well though. Thirty seconds into his backward crossovers, his face scrunches. He puts a hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, cheeks flushing beet red before Kurt's eyes. "Jesus Christ! I can't see!"

Kurt fixes steely eyes on his boyfriend, filming and giggling like a fiend as Blaine attempts a triple Axel and singles it, arms flailing when he tries to fan his mouth at the same time. 

"I'm picturing a Speedo," Kurt says as he prepares to drop the Reaper into his mouth. "An embarrassingly tight Speedo, seven gallons of honey, an angry beehive... " He carefully places the pepper on his tongue. His salivary glands kick into overdrive when its waxy exterior makes contact, but he can't persuade his teeth to bite.

"Ooo," Sebastian coos, provoking him. "Blaine covered in bees? That's going to be hilarious! And I can't wait to see his face when he finds out it was your idea. But what are you going to make me do?"

That does it. 

Kurt's teeth clench inadvertently, catching the pepper as it rolls off his tongue and pummeling it to bits between his pearly whites. The burn washes through his mouth, spreading in an instant with the obliterated pepper sitting for too long on his tongue.

"Shit!" he yelps, swallowing what remains whole. He coughs violently, almost puking up his lunch. "Shit shit shit!" 

"Don't die," Sebastian teases. "Not for TikTok."

"Nice to see you have priorities," Kurt growls, overcome by a sudden urge to get as far away from his insufferable boyfriend as his skates can take him. 

Now he has to pull this off so he can rub it in Sebastian's face.

Remembering that Blaine has a head start on him, he forces his feet to move. A swiftly blossoming headache completely erases his new routine from his brain so he begins improvising, starting with the opening of his last Regionals piece. He opens with a pancake spin.

Big mistake.

Crouching low over his bent leg as he spins forces his mouth closed, everything from his gums to his cheeks aflame. 

"Nope!" he sputters. "Nope nope nope!" He ends his spin prematurely, hacking as he settles into backward crossovers. 

These are worse. 

Since he's pushing into the air with his back, none of it hits his face, depriving him of relief. He catches sight of Blaine skating as fast as he can with his mouth wide open, preparing to enter another jump. He performs a double toe loop, then another, then another. Kurt doesn't understand. Blaine doesn't perform doubles in his routine. He's beyond that. 

Then it hits him.

Blaine can do a row of doubles faster than he can perform consecutive triples. He's using rotational inertia to cool his face.

It's genius.

Kurt launches into the air, stringing together three of the most lopsided double Salchows he's ever landed. And he barely lands them at that, overestimating his edge and nicking his toepick. He gives up on his choreography altogether, performing whatever move he has to to shove ice-cold air into his mouth. Element by element, Kurt's routine devolves until his goal becomes keeping his mouth from bursting into flames. 

He can't remember the last time he flubbed up this badly. He and Blaine probably look like drooling dogs doing the most, but his throat burns so badly, he couldn't care less. Kurt's nose runs like a faucet, but nowhere near as much as his eyes, which he has the hardest time prying open. 

He decides to skate blind, praying he doesn't collide with Blaine, whose blades he can no longer identify on the ice. By the time Kurt strikes his final pose, he's puffy-eyed, sweating like no one's business, with his lower jaw hanging to his chest, wheezing as he sucks in mouthfuls of cold air. He can't hear much for the ringing in his ears, but he suspects Sebastian may be laughing his ass off. 

Why did he agree to this again? 

"How did I do?" he asks, skating back to his boyfriend, trying not to touch his tongue to his lips, or his lips to each other.

"Meh. You've done better," Sebastian replies, replaying the video over and over, snickering at choice scenes.

"Thanks, coach," Kurt seethes, wondering how well Sebastian would skate if Kurt shoved one of those peppers up his nose.

"At least you fared better than Blaine."

"Why?" Kurt pants, scanning the rink through the narrow slits of his swollen eyelids. "What happened to him?"

Sebastian jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Took himself out of the running before his second Axel attempt, the poor schlub."

Kurt peeks over Sebastian's shoulder and spots Blaine, lying on his stomach, tongue pressed flat to the ice.

Kurt makes a face. He doesn't blame the guy, but still. 

Yuck. 

"Blaine? Honey? That's not a good idea."

"Yeah, weirdo. We have milk."

"I 'as saving da 'ilk for 'urt," Blaine explains, not moving his tongue while he does.

"Oh!" Kurt sighs, pressing a hand over his heart, overdoing the swoon because he knows how much it will irk Sebastian. The jerk deserves it. "That's so sweet!"

Blaine smiles. At least it looks like he does.

Sebastian grimaces. Great. Upstaged by a boy who looks like he just Frenched a patch of poison ivy. "Yeah, yeah. Cavity inducing. Get your ass up, Anderson. You're just making it worse. Besides, you're burning a hole through my ice."

[progamermove]

From List 3 arrange marriage f!blaine x m!mc ✌️

Dearly Beloved

Prompt: Arranged Marriage

Pairing: F!Blaine x M!MC (Kennedy)

Word Count: 1268 (I got a bit carried away... )

His posture was as impeccable as ever Blaine noted, her eyes roaming over Kennedy and his well tailored suit, the suit accentuating his broad shoulders and long legs. He had a polite smile plastered on his face as he shook the hands of all the dignitaries his mother brought towards him, easily holding his own with people twice his age. It was easy to ignore the women talking around her, her focus solely on Kennedy in the middle of the ballroom. 

“Can’t keep your eyes off your fiancé I see,” Dionne teased, breaking Blaine out of her thoughts. Blaine quickly put her mask back on, a lazy smirk and an air of nonchalance, before turning to face Dionne. “I was merely thinking how lucky I am compared to you. I could be engaged to Philip instead of Rutherland’s golden boy.” Dionne rolled her eyes, reaching for two glasses of champagne as the waiter passed by. “Say what you want, but I know you have had a crush on Kennedy since you were in braces.” 

Before Blaine could retort the pair found their attention drawn to the middle of the ballroom once more, loud cheers and guffaws reverberating against the walls as Kennedy found himself repeatedly shoved towards Dionne and Blaine by his friends. The man’s face began to slowly darken under their teasing and he tried to swat away the hands of Henri, Alexei and Zaira as they prodded him along. As the rowdy group drew closer the pair could hear their playful conversation and Kennedy’s rebuttals.

“You need to ask her to dance”

“I still need to greet all the guests”

“A happy wife is a happy life”

“We aren’t even married yet! Can you please stop pushing me-”

Blaine’s smile grows wider as Kennedy stumbles towards her, barely able to stay upright after a final shove courtesy of Henri and Alexei. “Kennedy has a question for you Blaine,” Alexei says with a large, shit-eating grin. Kennedy sends a dark look towards Zaira, Henri and Alexei as he straightens, before redirecting his attention to Blaine, unconsciously fixing his ruffled blazer and hair. “It has come to my attention that I have failed as your husband-to-be by not asking you to dance,” Kennedy remarks drily. 

“Well we can’t have that now, can we? We just got our countries to call a ceasefire,” Blaine replies lightly, eyebrow raised and smirk growing. “Would you honour me with a dance, Miss Hayes?” Kennedy holds his arm out, eyes staring intently into hers. “I would love nothing more, Mr Monroe,” her hand coming to rest in the crook of his arm, allowing him to lead her towards the dancefloor.

Kennedy is stiff, his hand barely present on Blaine’s lower back and arms stretched out to keep their bodies from touching. “I don’t bite, you can pull me closer,” Blaine teases, nodding towards the distance between their bodies. “I didn’t want to assume,” Kennedy starts before he purses his lips together as if mulling over his next words carefully, “I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with this arrangement,” he confesses in a low voice. Blaine steps forward, her hand tracing over the collar of his suit before resting behind his neck, interested in the way Kennedy shivers minutely under her touch. 

“You should know by now that my parents can’t make me do anything I don’t want to,” Kennedy smiles at Blaine’s words. “I should, considering how tempted I was to make a scrapbook of all your tabloid covers at one point,” he jokes back, unconsciously pulling Blaine closer by her waist, his hand warm on her back. A comfortable silence falls over the pair as they continue to dance, the distance between them gradually closing. Kennedy twirls Blaine out by the hand and as she spins back, he wraps his arm around her waist, bringing her in close, their chests pressed together.

Blaine carefully locks her fingers behind his neck, thumbs stroking the heated skin softly, drinking in Kennedy’s soft sighs. He lowers his head until he can brush his nose against hers, their lips a whisper apart. “I know we are only doing this to prevent a war,” he murmurs and Blaine feels her hips burn beneath his gentle touch, as if her skin is trying to imprint the memory of his touch onto her skin. “But I need you to know,” Kennedy inhales shakily, “It was always going to be you.”

The words hang between their quivering lips. Kennedy feels his heart stutter, dread settling into his bones as his words continue to hang, the noose tightening around them. He starts to pull away, apology on his lips, but as his hands lift from Blaine’s hips she stops him. Her fingers wrapping around his wrists and forcing them around her waist, keeping them tucked together. “Why didn’t you say anything before? Why did you let me believe this was just a political move,” Blaine asks, eyes searching and mask cracking under the flood of emotions that she is barely able to rein back.

Kennedy hears the hitch in Blaine’s voice and leads them smoothly towards the balcony, their steps never faltering as they dance past other couples. Once the balcony is near he swiftly moves them behind the curtain, closing the door and curtain behind them to keep from being disturbed. Blaine turned away from Kennedy, desperate to patch the cracks in her mask while he was distracted. When he turned back to face her, he found her leaning against the banister, hand rubbing tiredly at her face. 

Blaine jumps as she is brought out of her thoughts by two hands carefully placing a blazer over her shoulders. The strong sandalwood and vanilla scent on the blazer is oddly comforting. She slowly pulled the blazer on, taking note of how the sleeves almost completely covered her hands and how she could still feel his warmth on the jacket. Kennedy moved to stand next to her, careful to leave some space between the two of them. 

“I’ve always tried to be the perfect son.”

Blaine turns her head towards Kennedy, surprised at the sudden statement. Kennedy keeps his gaze forward, looking out over the courtyard, jaw tight. “I kept out of the tabloids. I never gave the media any reason to criticise my mother. Hell, I even ran for class president because I knew it would make my mother proud.” Blaine sees the man’s shoulders rise and fall as he controls his breathing. “I dedicated my life to her campaign and image,” his hands suddenly fall to the banisters with a loud, slapping sound, “and only recently I realised how fucked up that was.” 

Kennedy suddenly turns to Blaine, his eyes wet and voice hoarse, “I have loved you for a long time, Blaine Hayes. I loved you when you had braces and that ridiculous haircut. And I loved you even when I pretended to hate you.” Blaine feels her heart stop, struck by Kennedy’s words, by the fact that the man she loved, has always loved her back. “I’m sorry for being a coward,” he hesitantly raises his hand to rest it against her cheek, when Blaine didn’t pull away, he moved closer. “I’m sorry that I let you believe that I didn’t love you when it is the farthest thing from the truth and if you let me, I promise to love you properly for the rest of our lives.”

“'til death do us part?”

“My heart will find yours even after death.”

Their lips meet in a silent vow and it is just them. No one else.

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #19

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Sam Evans (Rumours) 

Sam takes in a deep breath before he rings the doorbell.  He had been picking up the deliveries that take him to the farthest parts of Lima in hopes that no one would notice him.  But it’s Friday night, and they’re swamped, and of course, Matt being the lazy ass that he is, won’t go farther than a mile away, so he’s left delivering to pretty much everyone.  Including an address he recognizes -- The Hummels.  

Kurt, of course, already knows about his situation -- just last week he had delivered to Dalton, but after everything that had been going on lately, everyone digging into his business, everyone making weird assumptions about him, he really doesn’t want to be near anyone from school.  Not helping is the strange sense that he’s being followed.  He rings the doorbell again, inspecting some bushes that might be moving as the door opens.  

“Sam!” Kurt cries as he opens the door.  Kurt is… well, Kurt’s weirdly happy to see him.  Or maybe just happy.  He’s got the goofiest grin on his face, and Sam isn’t quite sure how to react.  The short amount of time he did know Kurt before he left, he barely smiled.  And now he’s, maybe, radiating?  He’s also, uh, unkempt -- at least for Kurt.  Sam doesn’t usually notice these things, but he does know that Kurt is particular about his hair and his wardrobe.  Kurt’s hair is a mess and his shirt is half untucked.  

“Uh, hey, Kurt -- nice place,” Sam stammers as he sets the pizza on the end table.  

“Come in, don’t stand in the cold,” Kurt insists.  “Thank god you are here.  Oh my god, we are starving and I’m practically a beast when not fed properly.  Now, where is that money Dad left us?” He’s leafing through some mail on the table as Sam quietly waits.  

“So… pretty crazy today in class, right?” Sam says - just trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.  

Kurt freezes to give a stone-cold stare.  At first Sam thinks he’s done something wrong, but he quickly realizes that Kurt’s giving him his normal reaction glare.  “You would think after all the drama the glee club has been through over the years, that they would learn that it doesn’t matter and we should really be focusing on the music.  We’re going to New York -- and these people take one Sue Sylvester led newspaper cycle and everything is falling apart.  I mean, who cares if they think we’re dating…” 

“Wait, uh, what?” Sam’s brain starts to reel.  He knows people are thinking he and Quinn are getting back together.  And they’re not.  So not.  Though he would be lying if he hadn’t thought about it.  But Kurt?  Really? How many times has he got to tell people he’s not gay before they believe him.  

“Oh, god, Rachel practically had my head about it between classes today,” Kurt continues, giving the biggest eye-roll.  “And don’t worry - I deflected perfectly, no one knows about your secret -- my word is always the best.  But please.  Don’t get me wrong, Sam, you are adorable, but Blaine and I are ravishingly happy.” 

Sam’s brain is still processing the idea that Rachel thinks he’s dating Kurt.  “Why does she think that?” 

“She recognized the jacket I gave you,” Kurt explains.  “Which reminds me, do you need any other clothes?” 

Before Sam can answer, he sees Kurt’s boyfriend on the top of the stairs, pulling a white t-shirt over his head as he starts to descend the stairs.  Oh, god… Did he interrupt… He gets the image of Kurt kissing his boyfriend in his head and it’s… weird.  Well, no, it’s fine.  Like - Kurt can kiss whoever he wants, even if it is a dude, he’s cool with that.  Really, he is.   But, like, it’s Kurt.  Kissing people.  And that just seems weird.  Shit, why is he thinking about this?

“What’s taking you so long?” Blaine asks.  He comes up right behind Kurt, and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist, placing his chin on Kurt’s shoulder.  

Kurt leans back into him, clearly enjoying it.  “I was telling Sam that Rachel thought he and I were dating, Kurt says, turning his head to face Blaine.  

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

The two of them are doing that thing that couples do -- that Sam has seen his parents do -- where they talk to each other with just looks.  He’s not sure what they’re saying but he feels like he’s intruding on something more… private.  “You guys, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to stop you from… whatever.” 

“What?” Kurt looks genuinely confused.  

Blaine grins, and speaks close into Kurt’s ear.  “He thinks we were having sex.” 

“Oh,” Kurt flushes deeply, becoming flustered. “No, we were just, uh, hanging out.  Blaine was just changing.” 

“Yeah, because you wanted me out of the blazer,” Blaine says, giving a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. 

“Blaine!” 

“You know, I really should go,” Sam says.  Seeing the two of them together - he guess it does make sense.  They are super into each other.  But the room is getting a little warm, and Sam more than anything wants to not be there anymore.  

“You sure you don’t need any more of my clothes?” Kurt offers again.  

“No, I’m fine…” Sam says, backing to leave.

“C’mon, Kurt, I’m hungry,” Blaine says, biting at Kurt’s ear.  

Kurt all but melts in Blaine’s arms.  “We should really feed you then.”  

“Well, then.”  

They’re doing that weird nonverbal thing with their eyes, which means it's Sam’s queue to get the hell outta there.   

They’re only looking at each other as Kurt grabs the pizza, and Blaine pulls him back to the stairs.  “Money’s on the table, Sam,” he calls as the two of them race to the second floor, pizza box in hand.  “See you on Monday.”  

Sam looks awkwardly around for a moment, grabs the two bills Kurt had unearthed on the table (score, does Kurt realize he gave, like, a one-hundred percent tip?), and leaves the house. As he walks back to his car, his brain mildly wonders if they’re going to eat first -- and then have sex, or the other way around.  And people think he’s hooking up with Kurt. He’s barely made it to third base with a girl, while Kurt is obviously getting some now.  Wild.  

[scatter-the-stars]

We just moved in together! And, oh my god, I'm just realizing that you're inevitably going to see me in my gross sweatpants and we share a bathroom...

“What do you mean you sleep naked?”  Kurt stares at his best friend he thought he knew.  But apparently he doesn’t.  Because the things he’s been learning over the course of the past week has left him feeling like he knows nothing about the person in front of him.

Okay.  That may be a little over dramatic for him.  But he thought he knew Blaine.  Thought he was a book he had read from cover to cover.  Knew every page and word about his story.  Now he’s learning there are pages he skipped over and missed altogether.  Like the fact that he sings when he showers.  Or the fact that he isn’t big on clothes when it comes to being home based on the fact that they’ve only been living together for three days and he’s caught Blaine in nothing but boxer briefs and an old, loose shirt walking around.  The shirt wasn’t even part of the ensemble one day.  And now this about sleeping naked at night.

“I don’t wear clothes,” Blaine says as he opens the moving box marked kitchen.

The casualness of which he says that irritates Kurt in a way he can’t understand.  Maybe it’s the knowledge of now knowing that Blaine, who is only two doors down from him, sleeps sans clothes in his room makes him hot in a way he’s never felt before when it concerned his friend.  Or maybe because his own sleeping attire and lounge wear is a pair of old, ratty sweatpants that are past their prime.  Way past their prime.

Yes.  That’s it.  He’s just a bit ashamed of what Blaine will see him in.

Oh god.  Blaine is going to see him in those sweats.  Maybe he can avoid that interaction for as long as possible.  Because he lets no one see him in those things.

“H-How long has this been a thing?”  He questions, desperately trying not to picture his best friend sine he was four naked.

Blaine sets the stack of plates he pulls out from the box on the countertop.  “A few years.  Remember that summer after our second year of school in New York when it was hotter than Satan’s balls?”

He does.  It was like hell on Earth.  He would rather walk a mile along a LEGO covered road than experience another summer like that.  “Yeah.  What about it?”

“I realized it was easier to sleep naked than endure an extra layer of material that made me more miserable.  I liked it and never went back.  Okay.  Enough with the third degree.  Let’s get cracking on finishing with the last of these boxes.”

Kurt drops the topic and helps Blaine finish with the kitchen before moving to the living room.

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It’s two weeks later when Blaine sees him in his old sweats for the first time.

Where he was usually good about slipping the sweats off each morning before leaving his room, this morning he was too tired or distracted to do so.  He went to the bathroom like he normally did and thought nothing of it when he opened the door to Blaine waiting for him to finish.  When he saw his eyes drop down and an amused smirk lift his lips before he looked back up, he was confused.

It wasn’t until he was back in his room and went to change and pushed his sweats down did he realize he had the things on.

He just groaned and got ready for work.

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“No sweats?”  Blaine asks later that night as they sit in the living room eating takeout.

Where Blaine sits in his usual getup of boxer briefs and loose fitting shirt, he still wears what he wore to work.

“No.”

“Those things are a one snag on a nail away from being destroyed.”

“They’re comfortable,” he defends.

“I saw that.”  Blaine takes a bite of his noodles.  “How long have they been comfortable?”

Kurt mumbles a reply.

“What was that?”

He huffs.  “Eight years.”

Blaine chuckles.  “I did not figure you to be the kind of person to keep a pair of sweats for eight years.”

“Well, I didn’t figure you to be the kind of person to sleep naked at night.”

“Touche.”

Kurt pushes around his beef and pork and tries once again not to imagine his lifelong friend naked and lying in bed.

He fails.

He sets aside his half-eaten container of food and excuses himself to his room.  In the comfort of his room and bed, he buries his face in a pillow and lets out the groan he held in at the mental image of Blaine naked.

Why now?  Why is he having these thoughts now?  For the past twenty years he’s managed to keep Blaine in the box marked friend.  But one little confession from his friend and he’s suddenly seeing Blaine as someone he never noticed before.

“Ugh!”

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“And the sweats make another appearance,” Blaine playfully jokes a few days later.

It’s Friday night and he’s just had a long, miserable day at work.  He came home and wanted to be comfortable.  The fact that Blaine would be seeing him in his “won’t wear these around anyone” sweats didn’t bother him at all.

What does bother him is Blaine in nothing but tight fitting black boxer briefs that show off an ass he never really took notice of before.  And he really needs to stop looking before things get awkward or out of hand.

“Fuck off,” he replies in a playful tone of his own as he pours himself a glass of wine.

“Work a bitch?”

“Yep.”

“Want me to order Greek?”

“Yep.”  Kurt loves how well Blaine knows him.  Knows that he had a bad day at work because of the wine he pours himself.  Or how he knows Greek is his favorite and will automatically cheer him up.  That and Blaine’s ass in his boxer briefs.

No!

He will not think about that.  Will not think about his best friend’s amazing ass.

He downs the first glass of white wine in one drink.

“Slow down you little lush,” Blaine teases as he orders their food on his phone.

Kurt playfully shoots him the finger while pouring himself another glass of wine.

A few hours later, two and half bottles of wine drunk, food mostly finished, and a wonderful buzz going on his body, he can’t contain his snorts, or blush, as Blaine plays his fingers at the band of his sweats while they lie on the couch together.

The soft, barely there touch of Blaine’s fingers is fire and torture.  Sets his body aflame with need he never thought he would feel because of his best friend.  Has his mind going to places that include naked bodies and roaming hands and hot kisses on bared skin.

“These things need to go.”

“Mmm.  Love them too much to throw them out.  Besides,” he licks his lips, “they’re still very useful.”

“Kurt, they barely hang onto your hips.”  Blaine snorts and passes his fingers over his exposed hip where the sweats slipped down.

Fire erupts everywhere Blaine touches.  His body aches and throbs in a way he’s never felt before.

“Still good,” he mumbles while his eyes grow heavy.

“Tired?”

“Mmhmm.”

The last thing he feels before he falls asleep is lips tenderly pressing a kiss to his forehead and something faintly, too faintly to make out, whispered against his flushed skin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Blaine, I-Shit!”  Kurt quickly shuts Blaine’s bedroom door when he accidentally walks in on him jerking off.  The sight of Blaine’s hand wrapped around his long, thick cock is instantaneously seared onto his brain.  His own cock gives a hard twitch as his still buzzed brain scrambles to catch up to what he just did.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes through the door.  “I should have knocked.”

He races to his room to hide under a pillow after climbing into bed.

The image of Blaine stroking his cock was better than porn.  Better than any picture or video, or real life experience, he’s seen.  He wants to see it again.  Wants to go back to Blaine and ask if he can watch him finish.  Wants to touch Blaine himself; bring him pleasure.  Wants to know if Blaine thought of him while he touched himself.

He hides until he hears Blaine’s door open and close followed by the front door opening and closing.  It’s only then that he pulls his head out from his pillow and leaves his room.

In his old sweats, wondering if Blaine is upset or angry about what happened, he sits around their space all day waiting for him to return.  He writes out an apology in his head.  One that includes about a hundred sorry’s.

The front door closing a few hours after Blaine left has him jumping up when he walks into the room.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately blurts.

“It’s okay, Kurt.  It was an accident.”

“But, I-”

“It’s fine.  I’m past it already,” Blaine says.

“Okay.”  Kurt knows he won’t get past the moment as quick as Blaine.  That it’ll be with him for a while.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I got you something,”  Blaine announces a week later.

Kurt looks away from the show he watches to Blaine holding out a gift bag to him.

“It’s not my birthday,” he says.

“I know.  I saw this and thought you would like it.”

He takes the bag from Blaine and opens it.  Pulls out a pair of new sweatpants that are soft and seem comfortable.

“I don’t need new sweats, Blaine.”  He stuffs them back in the bag.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.  You wear them.”  He tosses the bag back to Blaine.

“Oh, you’re going to take those raggedy things off and put these on,” Blaine says.

“Not unless you get these off and those on me yourself, it’s not happening.”

“Is that a dare?”

Kurt grins.  “It’s whatever you want it to be.  I’m still not putting those things on when I have these perfectly good ones.”  He turns his attention back to the show.

A few seconds later a scream escapes him when Blaine shoves him to the couch and begins to attempt to pull his sweats off.  He laughs and squirms against him.  Playfully kicks and flails against him to make his attempt harder.

“Stay still,” Blaine softly growls.

Fingers of one hand curl into the worn band of his sweats.  Kurt contains his moan at the feel of Blaine’s fingers against his skin.

He manages to push his hand away and somehow get out from under him.  Off the couch and standing behind it, he watches as Blaine stands up, new sweats clutched in one hand, and eyes him like a obstacle course he plans to conquer.

“I will get those things off you.”

Kurt grins.  “I would like to see you try.”

A playful scream passes his lips when Blaine begins to chase after him.  He  manages to evade him for several minutes.  Ducks under his arms when he gets close.  But his luck runs out after about ten minutes when Blaine corners him in the kitchen.

The counter pressing to his back, and Blaine pressed to his front, heart racing and breathing heavy, he stares into Blaine’s eyes that hold a fire and hunger that ignites a flurry of need inside him.  Leaves him hoping and praying that Blaine is feeling the same thing as him in that moment.

With one of Blaine’s arms caging him in on his side, the other reaches between their bodies.  Fingers skim along the band of his sweats.  Fire roars under his skin at Blaine’s touch.  Hunger blazes for him to reach inside his sweats and wrap his fingers around his throbbing, neglected cock.

When Blaine’s fingers minutely slip past his sweats and skim along the soft skin just above his cock, he drops his head back and bites his lower lip to keep from moaning.  But he can’t stop his hips when they rock forward.

“Kurt, look at me,” Blaine demands in a heavy voice thick with want.

Kurt lifts his head and looks at the one person he never saw himself in this position with.  He fins lust-blown eyes filled with a hunger that sends a strong shiver along his spine.

“Y-Yeah?”

Blaine skims his hand along his skin again.  “Can I take these off?”

Please.

“Yes.”  He doesn’t care that he’s not wearing any underwear under his sweats.  Doesn’t care that Blaine is about to see his cock for the first time.  Doesn’t care what this means for their friendship.  He just wants Blaine to see how greatly he affects him.

Blaine drops the new sweats to the floor and grabs the band of the old ones in both hands and pulls them down.

The air around them seems to crackle with electricity as he stands there and lets Blaine look at him for the first time.

Nerves skitter across his skin over what Blaine may think of him.  Because he’s not as big as him.  Not as thick.  But he knows it’s still an impressive cock.  All of his exes said as much.

“Fuck, Kurt, you’re perfect,” Blaine groans in awe as he wraps a hand around him.

Kurt softly mewls and drops his head back again.  Thrusts his hips forward as Blaine begins to stroke him.

Lips press to his chin.  Kiss their way along his jaw and up to his ear.  “Tell me this is okay,”  Blaine murmurs in a desperate tone.

“O-Okay,” he murmurs in reply.

Without thought, and knowing he would only scare himself out of doing it, he lifts his head and captures Blaine’s mouth in a fiery and passionate kiss.  Mouths hungrily move together as tongues thrusts and massage.  Need swirls inside him.  He wraps an arm around  Blaine’s shoulders and deepens the kiss.  Moans as Blaine continues to stroke his cock.

“Want you, Kurt.”

The words stroke his cock just as amazingly as Blaine does.

“Want you, too.”

Consequences be damned.  They both want this.  They can deal with a potentially fallout over sleeping together later.  Right now he wants to satiate this need that Blaine has created inside him.

Blaine lifts him up and carries him to his bedroom.

What follows in the next few hours is pleasure unlike he’s ever known.  They kiss and fuck and learn every inch of the other’s body.  Reach for the each other over and over again.  Come together until both of their bodies are satiated and tired.

Close to six the next morning, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and still riding the high of his latest release, he lies on his stomach hugging the pillow under his head and stares at his best friend he’s sure he’s fallen for.

“When?” he asks.

Blaine knows what he’s asking without him needing to elaborate.  “When we were sixteen.”

The answer makes his heart ache for the years Blaine secretly loved him.  For the years he had to watch him be with other guys.  For the years they lost.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Blaine turns his head and looks at him.  “You didn’t feel the same.”

That’s a truth Kurt can’t deny.  Because this, what he feels for Blaine, is all new.  Something that has only happened in the last couple of months.

“I feel the same now,” he says.

A brilliant smile spreads across Blaine’s face.  “Not yet.  But I hope you will.”

That’s also true.  Where Blaine has admitted to being in love with him, he’s not there yet.  It’s too soon for him.  But he has feeling he will fall in love with Blaine as easy as he let him into his life as a friend.

Blaine scoots close to him.  Skims a hand down his naked back.  Teases his fingers at the top of his ass.  “Told you I would get you out of those sweats.”

Kurt laughs.  “I’m still not getting rid of them.  Or wearing the ones you bought me.”

“That’s okay.”  Blaine presses a kiss to his shoulder.  Begins to kiss down his back.  “I’m sure I’ll get you to see the joys of sleeping naked.”

Kurt lifts his head and looks down at Blaine’s naked body and grins.  “I already do.”

[klaineanummel]

looking for something that’ll (never) come 1/6

Blaine Anderson-Chang knows that his crush on his brother’s best friend, straight football star Kurt Hummel, is foolhardy. But every now and then Kurt gives him a look and Blaine can’t help but wonder.

Hey everyone!! Welcome to my newest fic :D This is a fic I’ve been wanting to write for ages, and am finally getting around to hehe it’s a fill for a prompt on the Glee Prompt Meme (link on AO3 and in the sidebar). This fic is complete, and I’m hoping to post it in its entirety over the course of the next two weeks or so. Hope you enjoy!! 

Title from I’ve Been Waiting by Lil Peep

Blaine doesn’t have to be looking at Tina to hear the eye roll in the, “Oh my god,” she lets out when she pulls up in front of Blaine’s house.

Blaine forces his eyes away from the black Escalade parked next to his driveway, turning to his friend with a, “What?”

Tina sighs, leaning her forearms on the wheel. “Blaine.”

“What?” Blaine repeats, knowing he sounds totally unconvincing in his confusion. He knows he sat up a little straighter when he’d seen the car, and he can’t remember doing it but he’s pretty sure he did that little excited wiggle that Tina and Sam are always making fun of him for.

He’s never claimed to be a subtle person.

“Just… chill, okay?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m chill.”

Tina raises an eyebrow. “You did the wiggle, pal.”

Yep, there it is. “Maybe I’m just excited to be home. Not have to see you anymore today.” He sticks his tongue out as he says it, hoping it will distract her.

This time he does see her roll her eyes. “Sure, Blaine. Whatever you say.”

He sighs, moving his messenger bag strap onto his shoulder and clutching it tight in his lap. He opens the door and sets one foot on the sidewalk. Then, he turns back to her and says, “It’s not because of Kurt.”

She frowns in faux-confusion. “I didn’t say anything about Kurt.”

He groans, and fully steps out of the car. He doesn’t close the door just yet, though, instead leaning against the top of it so he can still see Tina. “Thank you for driving me home.”

“Thank you for helping me pick out my prom dress,” she replies, still staring at him completely unimpressed. She glances past him, to his house, then looks back at him and says, “Text me later, okay?”

He snorts. It’s one of the things he loves most about Tina – she may give him shit, but at the end of the day she lives for the drama. No matter how much she disapproves of his crush, he knows he can always go to her with all the sordid details of whatever minute interaction he is overthinking. It’s great. Like having both the devil and the angel on his shoulder wrapped up in one person.

“You know I will,” he says, winking at her. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Blaine,” she wiggles her fingers as he finally shuts the door.

He heads up to his house, pulling out his keys and turning briefly to give Tina a final wave goodbye as she drives away. He then takes a deep breath and unlocks the door.

The first thing he hears is the sound of the TV from the living room, just a little louder than he knows Mama J likes it. He takes off his outside shoes and slips into his slippers, setting his keys on the hook with his name written above it in Mama P’s neat script.

He decides to drop his things off in his room before braving the living room, so he hurries straight up the stairs. When he reaches the top, he hears a couple of voices saying, “Come on, come on,” followed by a loud cheer a few seconds later. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he walks into his room.

He hangs up his messenger bag on his coatrack, then heads to his closet, opening the left door so he can see himself in the reflection.

He knows it’s stupid to be concerned about how he looks. Kurt has seen him stumbling out of the bathroom at 2 o’clock in the morning with toothpaste still smeared on his face. He was front and center for the inside-out sweater vest ordeal. He’s even seen Blaine without hair gel, for goodness sake.

Still, he can’t help it. He wants to look nice.

He wants Kurt to think he looks nice.

He fixes his hair a little bit, tucks his polo back into his jeans, and adjusts the cuffs of his jeans slightly. He looks himself over for a moment more, then nods approvingly and closes his closet door, heading back downstairs before he can work himself up too much.

He’s just reached the bottom of the stairs when he hears Mike call out, “Blaine? Is that you?”

Blaine heads to the living room, poking his head in as though he’s just stopping in on the way to the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Their living room is full of teenage boys. Three on the couch, two on the loveseat, and Kurt, as always, lounging in the recliner. They all look up at him when he speaks, and Finn even graces him with a wave. Then, as soon as he had the eyes of six football players on him, he no longer does, the pull of the football game far too strong.

As subtly as he can, Blaine flicks his eyes over to where Kurt is sitting, leaned forward with his legs spread wide, elbows rested on his thighs. He’s still watching Blaine, smirking a little, and Blaine looks away quickly, already feeling a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Hey,” Mike says, grinning at him. He scoots a little down on the couch, forcing Finn and Matt to squish together even more. “You wanna join us?”

Blaine glances at the TV, wrinkling his nose a little. He doesn’t really care for either of the teams playing, and as much as he’d love to be in the same room as Kurt for the next hour or so, he does have a lot of homework to do.

Plus, he’s been informed very indelicately by his friends that he is completely obvious about his crush, and he isn’t sure if he should put himself in a position of being caught staring at Kurt for an hour straight.

“I think I’ll pass for today, but thanks.”

“Aw, come on,” Kurt speaks up, still smirking, and Blaine’s heart skips a beat in his chest. “Bobcats, man. We’re destroying the Ravens.”

Blaine scrunches up his face a bit. “More of a college football guy, to be honest.”

“Dude, he said no,” Finn says, shoving Mike back over on the couch. “There isn’t really any room for him here anyway.”

“Yeah, cause you’re on here,” Mike replies, shoving Finn right back. “Besides, Blaine is small. You could fit two of him where you’re sitting.”

Finn just laughs, but Blaine finds himself blushing a little at that. Small isn’t exactly the word he wants his brother’s friends associating him with. Especially one of them.

“I got tons of room over here,” Kurt says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Now he’s definitely blushing, but he manages to hit back with, “Careful Kurt, I might take you up on that.”

A couple of the guys laugh, but Kurt just keeps watching him, smirk still firmly in place.

God, Blaine cannot figure him out.

Without saying anything else, Blaine removes his head from the living room and heads down to the kitchen. He immediately pulls out a glass and grabs some water from the fridge, sipping it slowly.

The thing is, he knows Kurt’s straight. It’s kind of the biggest reason that Sam and Tina give him so much shit over his crush. And he’s not just like, average straight, he’s really straight. Football player who dates cheerleaders straight. Drives an Escalade straight. Texts girls late at night asking if they’re up with the eggplant emoji straight.

But he also does things like stare at Blaine intensely whilst smirking. Or ask him to share a recliner that’s barely large enough for just Kurt. Or text him whenever he’s drunk, asking why he never comes to parties with Mike. Or get really annoyed when Blaine doesn’t come to one of their football games, and then really excited whenever he does.

He doesn’t want to be that guy that’s constantly wondering what if, especially since he’s specifically heard Kurt call himself heterosexual on multiple occasions and he really wants to respect that, but sometimes he can’t help it.

Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in him.

He sets his glass of water by the sink, then walks over to the cupboard Mama J always keeps stocked with junk food and pulls out a half-full pack of Oreos. He picks five out, then puts the pack back and leans against the counter, biting into the first one slowly.

“Yo, Mini AC.”

He looks up, eyes wide as Kurt walks into the kitchen. He has to force himself not to obviously check Kurt out, but it’s so hard because, damn, he had not noticed earlier exactly how tight the t-shirt Kurt is wearing is.

“Hey,” Blaine replies after swallowing the cookie in his mouth. Kurt walks right up to him until he’s leaning next to Blaine on the counter.

He grins down at Blaine, then reaches out and steals one of Blaine’s Oreos. It brings their bodies slightly closer, their hips now brushing together ever so slightly.

Blaine is pretty sure he’s no longer breathing.

“You’re weird, you know that?”

“Huh?” It comes out like an exhale of breath.

“Why do you always eat your snacks in the kitchen?” Kurt takes a bite out of his cookie. “A normal person,” he continues, mouth full of cookie, “would grab his snacks and,” he swallows, “take them up to his room. Or out into the living room, where his friends are.”

Blaine swallows thickly. “Well,” he says, tongue feeling thick as he watches Kurt pop the other half of the Oreo into his mouth. “I don’t like to eat in my room because I hate crumbs. And, uh,” he glances at the doorway just as a loud cheer erupts form the living room. “You guys are really more Mike’s friends. Don’t want to cramp his style.”

“You hate crumbs,” Kurt mutters, grinning and shaking his head. “You’re really something else.”

Blaine presses his lips together to stop the ear-to-ear grin he can feel himself wanting to break into.

“But you’re wrong about the second part,” Kurt says, leaning over to steal another one of Blaine’s cookies. “We’re your friends, too. I mean, christ, we’ve been parking our asses on that couch for like ten years now. You even join us sometimes,” he nudges Blaine with his elbow, and it pushes him away just a little bit. Blaine immediately misses the warmth of Kurt’s body, and wonders if there’s a subtle way he can get close again.

“Sure,” is all he manages to say.

Kurt shakes his head, chuckling. “You coming to the game Saturday?”

Normally Blaine would play coy, see if he can get a reaction out of Kurt by saying he won’t, but, well. He can’t really pretend given what game it is. “You guys are up for the championship. Obviously, I’ll be there.”

Kurt nods. “Good. Need my good luck charm, you know.”

And that’s another thing that confuses Blaine. Because no matter what girl Kurt is currently dating, or sleeping with, or pursuing, he always calls Blaine his good luck charm. And every single time Blaine attends a game and they win, the very first thing that Kurt does is look for him in the audience and point directly at him.

Sam tells him it’s a superstitious thing, but Blaine can’t help but wonder.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Blaine looks away from Kurt, surprised to see Finn walking into the kitchen, too. Without thinking, Blaine inches ever so slightly further away from Kurt.

“Hey, Finn,” he says.

“Yeah, hey,” Finn waves a dismissive hand. “Look, you remember the game last weekend? Against Dalton?”

Blaine frowns, then glances up at Kurt confused. He’s hoping it’ll be a small moment of comradery between the two at Finn’s strange question, but instead he finds that any trace of a smile has disappeared from Kurt’s face. His jaw is actually jutting out a little, and he’s sending Finn a fairly icy glare.

It just makes Blaine frown more as he turns back to Finn with a, “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Finn continues, clearly completely oblivious to Kurt’s stare. “I went to camp a few years ago with the Dalton quarterback, Sebastian Smythe. He noticed you when you came onto the field to congratulate us and thought you were really cute.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “What?” He hadn’t really been paying attention to anything other than the fact that as soon as he stepped foot on the field Kurt immediately ran up to him and picked him up in a way-too-tight hug that literally swept Blaine off his feet.

“He asked if I knew you and if you’d be interested in getting coffee with him sometime,” Finn is wiggling his eyebrows as he says it, and Blaine feels his heartrate going up a little bit.

“Well, I mean,” Blaine glances up at Kurt again, and yeah, Kurt is definitely glaring at Finn. “I don’t really know him. Or what he looks like.”

“Dude, he’s totally hot for a guy,” Finn says. “And he’s like, nice and stuff. You’ll like him, for real.”

Blaine presses his lips together. He glances up at Kurt again. Kurt, who he has had a crush on for over a year. Kurt, who confuses him. Kurt, who hugs him like he’s the only person who exists but then hooks up with a cheerleader later in the night.

He’s never really been asked out before. Is he really going to say no because of a guy who can’t even return his feelings?

“Uh, sure,” he finally says, shrugging.

Finn does a tiny fist pump. “Sweet! I’ll send him your number and you can fix something up. You’ll seriously like him a lot, I swear dude.”

“Great,” Blaine says, giving a weak smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Finn grins at him, then turns around and leaves again. Blaine looks back up at Kurt as he goes, hoping the iciness will have left his eyes, but it hasn’t. Instead, he’s still glaring daggers where Finn just was, and his arms have come up to cross over his chest.

“That was weird, huh?” Blaine says, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever—”

“Yeah,” Kurt cuts him off. “Right. Look, I’m missing the game, so.”

He pushes off from the counter and walks out of the kitchen without even giving Blaine a chance to respond.

“Right,” Blaine says, though he knows Kurt won’t be able to hear him. “Bye, then,” he says to nobody, eyes falling down to the cookies in his hands.

He sighs, shoves one in his mouth and leaves the kitchen, eating the other one as soon as he swallows the first one.

He really hopes that Tina is home by now, because he doesn’t think just texting her is going to suffice this time.

[saywhatjessie]

Written for Kathleen for the History Huh? Holiday Exchange! 1.8k (Ao3)

“Yes, Alex, of course I’ve heard Mariah Carrey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’.” Henry said, rolling his eyes and tapping at Alex’s leg where it was propped next to him. “I am gay, you know.”

“And thank God for that.” Alex said, rubbing a hand up over Henry’s hair. “But how am I supposed to know which pieces of American culture you’ve experienced? You didn’t know about ‘Get Low’! I don’t trust any of the education provided to you by that snotty English prep school.”

Henry laughed, softly. “Ah, yes: forget the European history and international policy I was educated in. If there’s no American pop music on the syllabus, the whole system’s a crock.”

“You get it,” Alex said, nodding solemnly. His face only broke when Henry snorted.

“I don’t think most Christmas music is strictly American, though.” Henry argued. “I’d say it’s such a specific genre it’s mostly universally shared.”

Alex grinned. “Let’s test that.”

 He lifted his pelvis so he could reach his phone that was tucked into his back pocket and caused Henry to whine at him, disgruntled by Alex’s squirming.

They were huddled together on the couch in Alex’s room in the White House, their New York brownstone not yet ready for them. Alex was sitting sideways on the couch, back against the armrest. One of his legs was extended down the couch to make room for Henry who was laying on his side between Alex and the back of the couch, but mostly on top of Alex. Alex kept one socked foot pressed into the cushions to keep them from toppling off the couch onto the floor.

As twined together as they were, Alex reaching for his phone definitely disturbed Henry’s whole body.

“Oh, shut up,” Alex told him. “We’re doing science.”

He got his phone in front of him, petting over Henry’s head again to apologize for the disruption, and pulled up Spotify.

“Consider this your official Christmas education.”

Henry snorted again, resting his head against Alex’s chest. “I wouldn’t say this is–”

“And you’re shutting up again.” Alex said, pressing play and resting the phone on his knee. “We’re listening now.”

Out of Alex’s phone speaker came some high melodic bell sounds followed immediately by a female singer doing a vocal run of ‘Oh yeah!’

Henry hummed. “Britney Spears.”

Alex looked down at the top of his head. “You know this one?”

“No,” Henry admitted in a grumble. “But any queer worth their salt knows Britney when they hear her.”

Alex chuckled. That was valid.

The song got to the chorus and Alex couldn’t help but mouth along to the lyrics.

 Santa, can you hear me?

I have been so good this year.

And all I want is one thing:

tell me my true love is near!

He’s all I want, just for me,

underneath my Christmas tree.

I’ll be waiting here.

Santa, that’s my only wish this year.

 Henry rumbled a soft laugh, burying his face in Alex’s sweatshirt. “Love, that is incredibly sappy.”

Alex swatted him, lightly. “Leave Britney Alone.”

Henry laughed again, grinding his forehead into Alex’s sternum and Alex just grinned, bringing his hand up to rest in Henry’s hair.

When that song ended, a new one started.

“Fuck yes,” Alex said, with feeling. “Keeping it in the 90’s.”

“Dear, you were just barely alive in the 90’s.”

“Shhhh!” Alex shushed him. “*NSYNC is singing!”

Henry was right: Alex was born in 1998 and, therefore, most of these songs were just a little bit before his time. But he did have an older sister.

“I do, actually, know this one,” Henry said, humming along to the chorus. Though why he didn’t sing the lyrics, Alex didn’t know. It was literally just ‘Merry Christmas’ over and over again.

“I’m shocked that it’s a boy band that makes its way across the pond to you,” Alex said.

Henry rolled his eyes. “I had an older sister of the nineties as well, Alex.”

Alex got bored of the song halfway through (it really was repetitive) and picked up his phone to find a new song.

Most of the songs Spotify had picked for them were in the same vein: 90’s and early 2000’s stars singing poppy Christmas songs. But a little bit of scrolling found him something truly incredible.

 “It’s Christmas in Hollywood, 

Santa’s back up in the hood, 

so meet me under the mistletoe,

let’s fu-u-uck”

 Henry burst out laughing, his convulsions almost enough to shove Alex to the floor. “What is that?”

“Hollywood Undead!” Alex answered, merrily. “They’re not good and this song is actually terrible but it kind of slaps?”

Henry could barely hear any of the lyrics over his laughing but he did manage the jolly voice of Santa on the track saying “If you guide my sleigh I’ll let you fuck my wife.” And that just sent him into a whole new bout of hysterics.

“We should play this at our holiday dinner,” Alex suggested, as the song faded out.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said, choking on a couple late chuckles. “This is the best representation of sharing between our cultures I can imagine.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too,” Alex answered, a stray giggle betraying him.

They managed to laugh through the next song which was someone’s cover of “Santa Baby” but it wasn’t Eartha Kitt so Alex didn’t think it was any real loss.

It wasn’t until a certain guitar riff that Henry shushed him. “Quiet, darling, Darren Criss is singing.”

Alex groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest. “God, you and that guy.”

Henry shushed him again.

Alex rolled his eyes and picked up his phone to look at the song title. “Extraordinary Merry Christmas” from the Glee soundtrack.

And, yes, there was Lea Michele’s voice harmonizing now.

Alex understood, obscurely, the appeal of Glee. The music. The drama. The beautiful people. June had been obsessed with it in the early days and he’d seen a few episodes but he could never really get into it.

Henry, though, was a card carrying Gleek. Which was absolutely absurd but also, weirdly, totally expected. He was totally the type to eat that corny shit up.

Also, he was obsessed with Darren Criss, who played Kurt’s boyfriend Blaine on Glee.

“I guess this song, is kind of alright,” Alex admitted.

Henry turned wild eyes on him. “Do you not hear him? He’s incredible.”

Alex rolled his eyes again. “He’s not even the real Harry Potter,” Alex grumbled.

Henry shushed him.

When the song was over, Alex pulled the phone up and tapped out another search.

He made Henry get up before he hit play.

Henry groaned. “Why.”

“Because we’re going to dance like the worst and most terribly cheesy couple in the entire world,” Alex answered, promptly. “And I get to be Blaine.”

“Wha–” Henry started but then Alex hit play and the opening notes for the Glee version of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ started. 

Henry’s eyes lit up but he frowned. “Let me be Blaine, my voice is deeper than yours.”

“Too late!” Alex said because it was Henry’s cue.

“I really can’t stay,” Henry sang falsetto and completely off-pitch.

Alex tried not to laugh over his line. “But Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve got to go ‘way.”

“But baby it’s cold outside!”

They swayed in a circle, arms around each other, trading lines and trying not to laugh at Henry’s absolutely horrendous attempt at falsetto. Alex didn’t know all the words and Henry’s voice kept cracking but they got through the whole song with minimal trouble.

They were laughing to themselves by the end, Henry ducking his head to bring Alex into a long kiss. Alex hummed into it.

The phone kept playing another Christmas song of another slow-ish tempo so they kept dancing, not wanting to stop now they’ve started.

Henry pulled away, resting his forehead on Alex’s. “Why did you get to be Blaine?”

Alex laughed. “Because he’s your favorite. And I wanted to be your favorite.”

Henry kissed him again, humming. “It’s not just because you wanted the boy part?”

“The point of that version is that they’re both the boy part.”

Henry smiled a small smile and leaned down to kiss him again.

They stayed kissing for the rest of the song, and then the opening notes for “Baby It’s Cold Outside” started again, this time the Zooey Deschanell version.

Henry pulled away again. “You know when Kurt and Blaine sang ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ on Glee…” Henry started, licking his lips. “That was the first scene of television I’d ever seen that had a positive and sweetly romantic portrayal of two men.”

Alex pulled his head back a little bit to look at him. “Really?”

Henry nodded. “Every other gay thing on television was always very sexual. Or completely neutered. I was a 13-year old kid having innocent crushes on boys but there was nothing on tv that looked like what I was feeling. Not until that scene.”

Alex grinned, leaning up to plant a kiss on Henry’s jaw. “That’s adorable.”

Henry growled a little in his throat, but turned his head so it was easier for Alex to kiss him.

Alex kissed him on the mouth, pulling away with a smile. “Weird, though, that the song is about date rape.”

Alex grinned wider as he watched Henry’s whole face turn red.

“You have to take the song in context!” Henry hissed. They stopped dancing. “In the 1940’s, it was inappropriate for a woman to be at a man’s house very late without a chaperone! You have to listen to the song with the context of a society in which women are expected to reject men’s advances whether they actually want to or not, and therefore it’s normal and expected for a lady’s gentleman companion to pressure her despite her protests, because he knows she would have to say that whether or not she meant it, and if she really wants to stay she won’t be able to justify doing so unless he offers her an excuse.” Henry was breathing heavily. “The song’s a game of cat and mouse! She even says ‘At least I’m gonna say that I tried’ like she really wants to stay but she knows what people will say if she does.” Henry was sporting the angry eyebrows now and Alex was delighted. “It is disrespectful and historically inaccurate to reduce the song in that way.”

Alex reached up to rub his thumb against the crease of Henry’s eyebrows. “You enormous nerd.”

Alex leaned up and kissed the pout on Henry’s mouth. Henry held firm in his rage for a count of two before he melted and kissed Alex back.

They kissed all through Christina Aguilera’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.