A/N: Hello . Long time lurker here. I've been posting quite a few fics over at the kurt_blaine livejournal and thought I'd share them over here. I'm a total review whore so please R&R if you would. Oh disclaimer, right, I always forget those. Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT A LAPTOP AND A DIRTY MIND. Enjoy! :)
As Blaine pulled into a parking spot near the front doors of William McKinley High School, he couldn't help but feel anxious. After weeks of little more than quick video chat conversations (most of which taking place during Kurt s incredibly thorough moisturizing routine), sweet phone calls inquiring about each others day and flirty texts, he was finally going to get to see his adorable boyfriend. Ever since Kurt had transferred back, Coach Sylvester had quickly snatched him back up for the Cheerios, claiming that she "missed her sweet Porcelain and needed him for a routine that only he could pull off", whatever the hell that meant.
Blaine didn't really understand the concept of Cheerios, he decided as he shut off the engine and slid out of the car. Dalton lacked the feminine energy for such a stereotype so he'd never actually known anyone who could tell him anything about cheerleading. He'd seen them while watching NFL games and attending football games as a kid with his dad, but other than that he'd had no exposure.
He had no idea the Cheerios would practice so much either. Kurt had practice nearly everyday from four to seven and Blaine could only imagine how awful three hours of Sue Sylvester was for your sanity. So Blaine, the caring boyfriend he was, had decided to surprise Kurt by coming up to watch him practice before their date Friday night. Of course, it had taken some convincing from Coach Sylvester. He shuddered recalling the memory.
"Now remind me again who you are and why I should let you spy on my practices?" She scowled at the Dalton boy who shifted nervously in his seat. They were seated in her cave of an office, the glittering trophies hanging like stalagmites that may fall and crush him at any moment. But this was for Kurt so with a deep breath, he forged on.
"Like I said over the phone, Ms. Sylvester, I assure you that I am not a spy. Dalton doesn t even have a football team, let alone cheerleaders. It s just that ever since Kurt transferred back to Mckin-"
"I'm sorry, Dapper Dan, but who is Kurt?" Sue eyeballed Blaine like he was speaking some foreign language. Blaine deadpanned.
"Are you really insisting on taking your stupid nicknames that far?" Sue grabbed for a weight that was perched perilously atop a stack of liability wavers and began doing curls.
"Sue Sylvester is a lot of things. A six time national cheerleading coach, a flagrant usurper of immigrants rights and the passing love affair of one George Clooney. Dumped him after those batman movies. Too much nipple for my taste. But of all the things Sue Sylvester is, a quitter is not one of them. You can play into this or hit the bricks and attempt not to get any of the six gallons worth of gel you've put into that mess you call hair on the door knob on your way out. It kind of reminds me of the BP Oil disaster." Once again Blaine shifted uncomfortably.
"Alright, point taken. Well I've been kind of worried about Ku-Porcelain." Sue raised her eyebrows at the teen.
"Worried? Because he finally is on a team that can take him places? That poor kid has the worst luck in the world! He starts out in a losing, sham of a Glee club, run by a man who has yet to appear on Intervention for his Justin Timberlake complex despite my various e-mails, letters and death threats to the producers. Then Porcelain ends up in a supposedly hallowed glee club called the Chickadees-"
"The Warblers. We're called the Warblers." Blaine interjects helpfully. Sue drops the weight with a slight thud and narrows her eyes.
"So not the point, greased lightning. Moving on. And then, after all his troubles, they lose to Justin Timber-fake's club? He needs a win in his life and the Cheerios need a morale boost. If anything, I'd be more worried about you obvious obsession with dressing like a playboy. You call those uniforms? What kind of school are you going to?" Blaine ducked his head. There is no way this is getting anywhere fast, he thought losing all hope. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and tugged his coat on.
"Well thank you for your ti-" Sue was staring off into the distance, paying no mind to Blaine as he muttered this. Suddenly, she stood and walked over to one of the dozens of trophies leaning against the wall, absently mindedly polishing the tiny star at the top with the tip her thumb.
"Then again," She mused, her back to him, "he does seem to go on and on about how much he misses some prince charming from his old school. I can only assume from that nauseating grin you just pulled as I said that that you are the reason my Porcelain has been so distracted lately."
Blaine felt a certain pink flush spread across the back of his neck at the accusation, but pursed his lips and said nothing. How did she even know he was grinning? Sue turned to face him, her hawk-like stare making him all the more uncomfortable.
"And I suppose it wouldn t kill you to be able to see performers with some talent that actually win things. Friday. 4 'o clock on the football field. Come alone and unarmed. Be prepared for a TSA-style pat down for recording devices on your way in and tell no one about this conversation. I may not have spies at Dalton, but thanks to a certain government funded grant, I do have the legal power to use technological means to track down any person I deem a threat to the state. You wouldn't want that, Pink. Now get the hell out of my office." Blaine's heart leapt as he nervously thanked her and ran for dear life before she could change her mind.
Blaine made his way around the side of the school to the stadium about five minutes til four. As he strolled under the bleachers, he heard light footsteps on the bleachers directly above him. He also heard girlish laughing accompanied by the high, trilling laugh of his beloved countertenor. Blaine smiled as bits of their conversation floated down through the space in between the metal beams.
"Hey Kurt, are you ready for a full run through today? I can't wait to hear dem sweet vocals." Blaine was not sure he was exactly comfortable with the way the voice practically purred at his boyfriend. He soon recognized it as the voice of Santana, a rather promiscuous member of New Directions and the Cheerios. Kurt laughed nervously.
"You know, I think I am. But if Coach Sylvester thinks we are performing this at any sort of competition she has too much protein powder on the brain. Not that I'm one to complain about any song selection from Miss Rihanna, but this routine seems a bit scandalous." Blaine cocked his head to the side in confusion. What exactly did that mean? The thought of his sweet, innocent Kurt doing anything scandalous didn't quite register.
"Kurt, I thought you promised no more big words. It makes my head sad". Brittney sighed. Santana and Kurt laughed and the three stood and walked towards the field.
"There you are spiffy, right on time". Sue Sylvester barked, approaching him with a rather tall, large black man in tow. She smiled down at the Dalton boy. Decked out in her usual track suit, she also carried a clip board and a bull horn in hand, a whistle glinting menacingly around her neck.
"Meet Al, head of Cheerio security. Al, if you would." Taking a scanner out of his jacket, Al immediately began swiping the air around Blaine. After several minutes of this, a rather awkward pat down, a quick interrogation of his intentions for watching the practice and the signing of a confidentiality waver, Blaine followed Coach Sylvester into the stands. He nervously took a seat next to Sue, who ignored him as she yelled into the horn, "ALRIGHT, BABIES. LET'S DO DAMAGE CONTROL! FROM THE TOP, HUMMEL!" The Cheerios flooded the field in a flash of white and red.
Blaine found himself holding his breath as he caught sight of Kurt in his Cheerio uniform for the first time. He was standing in the center of the football field, arms crossed as he waited for the rest of the cheerios to form up around him. A black headset adorned his head, neatly placed over his beautiful chestnut colored hair. Tight red pants hugged the hips of the thin brunette, extenuating his oh-so-perfect ass in a way that nearly made Blaine faint from sheer sensory overload. The letters WMHS were emblazoned across an equally tight top and an adorably sexy little red sweat band was clinging to his bicep. Blaine never wanted to be a sweat band so badly in his entire life then he did at that moment.
But before Blaine could swoon at the glorious sight that was Kurt Hummel as a Cheerio, music blared to life in the stadium speakers. As the opening power chords of the song began the Cheerios began doing some freakish fast pop-locking dance moves that were-oh my god, how on earth is Kurt that flexible? Blaine thought, as he licked his lips and crossed his legs lightly as Kurt shook his hips to the techno beat. He watched as his boyfriend finished with a quick little squat and popped up, moving forward and out of the center of the formation to start his solo.
"Feels so good being bad. There's no way I'm turning back. Now the pain is my pleasure cause nothing could measure." Blaine's jaw dropped at Kurt's opening lyrics. Santana came forward with him and clung to the boy, sliding down his thin frame in time with the lyrics. With a cocky grin, Kurt grabbed her hand and dipped her down only to bring her up and spin her away from him in rejection. As she slinked back into the circle formation, Kurt beckoned Brittney out for his next set of lyrics with a carefully manicured finger.
"Love is great, love is fine. Out the box, outta line." Brittney was rubbing her hands across his chest from behind as Kurt practically eye-fucked his invisible audience. Blaine swallowed thickly as his ragging hard on became more and more obvious.
"The affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more." To this Kurt lifted and twirled Brittney, his muscles rippling as he placed her behind him and back in the formation. Damn that, sweat band, he cursed in his mind. Kurt made a sexy little growling noise as several other Cheerio girls ran forward and attempted to try for his affections, tugging at his shirt and running their hands all over him. Blaine saw stars he was pressing his legs together so tightly, praying for the routine to end before he did something he d regret. The rest of the Cheerio formation moved forward and engulfed Kurt for a moment, before popping down at different levels around the boy for the chorus. With a quick hair flip, he began the chorus and a reprise of the original dance from the beginning.
"I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it! Sex in the air, I don't care I love the smell of it! Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me!" Kurt shimmied and swayed to the music, hips moving to a frantic rhythm, hands stretched out in a pleading gesture. Blaine about died of frustration as Kurt pouted, his pink lips slick with chapstick, just begging for Blaine to jump the six foot drop from the bleachers and ravage him on the field. This just isn t fair! With a heavy power chord, the song ended and Sue s bull horn brought him back to reality.
"THAT WAS DISGUSTING AND NOT IN THE WAY I INTENDED! SANTANA, YOUR TWIRL WAS MESSY. SANDRA, YOU LOOKED BORED AND WHO ACTUALLY REMEMBERED TO DO THE SPIN AT THE END?" She barked at the panting cheerleaders. "HIT THE SHOWERS, YOU SICKEN ME!" She turned to Blaine to say something, but the teen had already taken off. Just as Kurt was about to head back into the gym to grab his things, familiar hands looped around his wait, pulling him close.
"Blaine? What are you doing here?" The confused boy questioned as a tortured Blaine pulled him under the bleachers. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw a very disheveled Blaine, breathless and face flushed from running. He also noticed the very, very obvious bulge in his jeans.
"I came to watch you practice because I know how much you love the Cheerios and there were hands and touching and squatting and tight and-" Kurt pressed a delicate finger to his lips, eyes shinning. Blaine kissed it lightly and whined.
"Do I have to beg for it, babe?" Kurt grinned and closed the space between them, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as their lips met. Blaine's hands went right for the obvious target and grabbed Kurt's ass, lifting him off the ground slightly and eliciting a moan from the younger boy. Blaine took the opportunity to force his tongue into Kurt's mouth, running his tongue over teeth and enjoying the heat. Kurt dug his nails into Blaine's back, which only deepened the kiss. Eventually, they pulled away for air and Kurt giggled.
"So I guess you liked my song?" Blaine grinned.
"I don't think I can begin to describe the feelings I have for that song and the way you look in that uniform." He said in a low, gravelly voice. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist as they began walking towards the car.
"Well, you know, before we can go out tonight, I really need to get a shower. Would you care to join me?" Kurt asked with a devilish grin. Blaine opened the side door of the car for Kurt and practically dove across him into the driver s seat.
"Buckle up and damn it all if I can't get us back to your place in under seven minutes!"