Prompt: I know we've never talked before but there is a friggin' huge spider in my apartment. Can you kill it for me?
Words: ~700
Spiders and Magazines
Kurt entered his apartment building, his mind already on what he can cook for dinner after his long day. He picked up the mail in his pigeon-hole and flicked through it on his way up the stairs. Junk mail, bill, copy of Vogue (that's his evening sorted), a copy of Doctor Who Magazine, another bill.
Hold on.
He's not a Doctor Who fan.
He flipped the magazine over: 'Mr B. Anderson, Flat 4B'. He's already halfway up the stairs and he's not going all the way back to put it in the correct pigeon-hole...
This might actually be a convenient excuse to introduce himself to his neighbour. To be polite, you understand. Not because his neighbour has lovely curly hair and sings to himself as he goes on his morning runs and has a cute and preppy fashion sense involving bowties. Kurt just wants to be polite and helpful.
He knocks on the apartment door and waits for only a few moments before the door is opened by B. Anderson, wearing a casual cardigan-and-jeans, unfortunately no bowtie, outfit.
"Are you any good with spiders?" he looks a little flustered, Kurt thinks.
"Um, yes?"
"Great, can you help me?" he ushers a bewildered Kurt into his apartment, "It's in the kitchen and it's really, really big."
"Right, can I have a glass, please?" Kurt set down his bag and mail on a coffee table. He took one envelope and followed his neighbour through a small archway to the kitchen. He's deciding to just go with the odd situation, it's not often he gets the chance to be a knight in shining armour for a cute guy. Said damsel-in-distress handed him a glass and silently pointed to the top of a cupboard. Kurt looked where he was indicating to see a spider. Not a small spider, but not one he would describe as 'really, really, big' either. He stretched up and placed the glass over the spider, sliding the envelope under it, leaving the spider trapped in the glass, "There. Can you open a window?"
"Yeah, sure," the curly-haired man opened the kitchen window, allowing Kurt to release the spider.
"Are you scared of spiders? Because that wasn't that big."
"Bigger than average," Kurt raised an eyebrow and the other man blushed and spoke quiet and fast, "It was out of my reach and I didn't feel comfortable leaving it. Not in my kitchen. What if it got into my food? Why are you laughing?" the man pouted adorably.
"You got your neighbour to help you with a spider because it was out of reach! I can't decide if that's cute or hilarious," they were both laughing now, "I think it's both."
"If you hadn't knocked on the door I would have climbed on the sideboard and got it. You have bad timing."
"Good timing, I think. I've been wanting to introduce myself for a while. I'm Kurt."
"Blaine. Why did you knock on my door?"
"Some of your post got put in my pigeon-hole - your copy of Doctor Who Magazine. I didn't even know there was a Doctor Who Magazine."
"Brilliant, thank you! I was a little concerned when that didn't arrive, I wonder what cover I've got..." Blaine wandered through and picked up his magazine, handing Kurt his post back, "Capaldi, excellent! That's my evening sorted. I, uh, probably sound like a bit of a geek now, sorry."
"Don't apologise. It's your Vogue, I get it," Kurt held up his own magazine, "My evening is going to be dinner then curling up to read this with my cat."
"Sounds idyllic. And like mine, minus the cat."
"You could come and share my cat," he winced, "I mean, uh, dinner. And then the cat. You could have dinner with me and we could read together.," it wasn't getting any better. Kurt started to back away towards the door, "Or something. If you wanted. Which you probably don't because it sounds a bit weird..."
"No weirder than asking your neighbour to get a spider because you can't reach it," Blaine was smiling widely, "I'd love to join you."
