Something New:
a story of Klaine 'firsts'
Don't forget to submit a 'first' for me to write. It can be a situation, an event, an action, a word, a gesture, a pet, a kink - ANYTHING!
~The Sue Sylvester Shuffle...
Occasionally, Finn would say things completely unexpected. Sometimes, standing in the kitchen with Kurt after they'd finished the washing up, he'd settle back against the bench and fall silent, waiting. In any other situation, Kurt knew his step-brother would never be so placid, so unaware of his surroundings that every thought that crossed his mind was voiced. Yet, late at night, when they each clutched a mug of warm milk, and Finn wiped the remnants of detergent froth from his finger thoughtfully, he still managed to surprise Kurt.
"Don't you want to know what it's like to be with a girl?" he suddenly asked, his tone so innocently curious that Kurt was taken aback for a moment by the honesty.
Placing his own mug of (non-fat, skim, organic) milk onto the bench behind him, Kurt took his time to arrange his expression into something suitably neutral before turning around to reply, "What do you mean?"
Finn shrugged, taking a quick sip from his mug. He swallowed, hunching his shoulders and bringing his arms closer to his chest as the warm liquid settled in his stomach.
"I just mean that, well, since you're gay, you're never going to get to touch a girl – you know, in that way – or, like, see her boobs. I mean, you're never going to have sex like- like that? Right?"
Kurt blushed, not because he was embarrassed, but because it was instinct. The word 'sex' had been uttered aloud, and now it floated in the air between the two boys like an unsolved mystery. Cheeks still flaring crimson, Kurt looked at the floor, feeling slightly queasy as images of girls and boobs and lips and Brittany flashed before his eyes.
It wasn't that he didn't like girls – Mercedes was a goddess, Quinn a fallen angel, and even Rachel had her moments (usually when it was lyrics, not words, coming from her mouth). But he just didn't like them like that. Trying to comprehend girls like that was not so much impossible as it was unappealing. The images Finn had conjured were like a pickle on a plate – edible, yes, but not enjoyable. And, given that Kurt had spent so much of his life having pickles shoved down his throat, he was glad now for the freedom to refuse them.
"I guess not," he finally said. "But, honestly, that doesn't bother me much."
Finn looked flummoxed.
"It doesn't bother you that you'll never get to see a boob for the first time? Or touch one? Or see a girl naked?"
Still blushing, Kurt shook his head. None of the above held any real appeal to him, and he would be extremely glad if Finn would cease dangling the metaphoric pickle before him. Its smell was being wafted all over the place.
"I still get firsts," Kurt reminded his step-brother half-heartedly.
But Finn had stopped paying attention, already back to sipping his milk, eyes closed, fingers curling around the heat.
"I guess..." he muttered once he'd swallowed. "Is it the same though?"
"No," Kurt conceded. "It's not."
He pressed his lips shut, the blush now spreading to his neck as he turned back around to pick up his own mug. Finn was right, he supposed. Firsts would be different for him than for other guys.
Everything he'd see and touch would be something that he already knew about. Every sensation he felt would be one that could be reciprocated. Every logical reason suggested that he shouldn't be so interested, so fascinated, with a form that he could look in the mirror and see every day.
And yet, the particular form he was currently besotted with was undoubtedly very different to his own. All too easily, Blaine's dark eyes, dark hair and dark skin invaded his mind, bombarding his consciousness with such force that all remnants of pickle were obliterated instantaneously. Kurt's knowledge of his new mentor was admittedly limited, but already he was sure that every plain of Blaine was harder, rougher than the corresponding parts of his own body. The intrigue he felt to explore even the smallest glimpses, touches, of Blaine that Kurt had salvaged – his fingers, his palms, his wrists – was infinite, and Kurt's hunger for more was insatiable.
So, no, he concluded, taking another sip – things wouldn't be the same. Despite each new discovery, each new feeling, still being just as thrilling, just as terrifying as for any other boy, the firsts would be different. A whole different kind of new.
Yet another cautious start, although I am much less apprehensive about this than about Phantoms.
Anyway, this idea popped into my head and I kind of loved it, so I thought I'd put it out there in the aether and see if anyone bites (that was a mixed metaphor, sorry).
Basically, this is a story of Klaine's firsts. I want you guys to send me a prompt (e.g. 'First Fight', 'First Day They Reveal Their Secret Identities As Superheroes/Wizards', 'First Present They Give Each Other') and then I will write a scene about that prompt. These chapters will NOT BE DRABBLES (hence, this is different to Sesame Street) and they will ALL BE PROMPTED. So this won't get written if you don't review/PM/send carrier pigeons. Honestly, I'm keen to write some really wacky things for this, so the challenge is out there for you to come up with something obscure.
It's really your call what happens to this story. This chapter is just meant as an introduction - this is the moment that Kurt starts visualising his and Blaine's firsts. The actual chapters will, of course, actually have Blaine in them. Unless the prompt means he can't be in it.
I'm interested to see what you think of this idea, but please, if you do want to see it continued, please, please send me prompts!