Dearest People, Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, Sebastian wouldn't be there. He's evil and he's trying to break Klaine up. No me gusta!
I had this idea for a fluffy Klaine one-shot as my history class was watching a video on Atlantis yesterday (random, right? I love when that happens). My friend Taylor and I were writing back and forth during the vid, talking about Klaine (what else?) and she said her new life mission was to find a fic about Blaine being slushied for the first time. I decided to write one and this is the result.
I wish I could write actual chapters this fast …
BWBWBWBWBWBWBWBWBWBWBW
"So Blaine," Kurt started as he discreetly curled his fingers around mine.
I smiled. "Yes, Kurt?" I asked as we walked through the crowded halls of McKinley High.
"Two questions."
I wasn't thrown. "Okay. Shoot."
"What would you say if I asked you to wear a Finn outfit for a day? Just so I can see how you'd look," Kurt asked me, batting his eyes innocently.
I was horrified. "Absolutely not! That'd be like me daring you to wear my sweaty boxing clothes."
"Oh. Okay, you win. Oh dear Gucci, bad mental image. I am disgusted. Me, in loose, baggy, sweaty athletic clothes! I may never forgive you for putting that in my head, Blaine," Kurt shuddered, his eyes shut tight.
"Didn't you have a second question for me?" I inquired. Admittedly, I was a bit wary of what he would ask. But the trust (and the curiosity) outweighed the wariness.
"Oh, right," my boyfriend said, shaking the bad images out of his mind. I smiled at his adorableness. "What do you think of singing 'I Get Weak' in the next glee club? Our duets are fun to do, we sound perfect together, and it would give me an excuse to spend more time with you."
We both smiled fondly as he echoed what I'd said when I gave him my 'I've been looking for you forever' speech last year.
"I would love to," I accepted. "How are we splitting the lyrics?"
"Maybe we can –"
"Hey losers!"
Kurt and I both groaned softly when we heard Azimio's voice. With Karofsky gone, Azimio had become the top bully at McKinley.
"What do you want, Azimio?" Kurt demanded.
"I want to know why you two fairies think you can walk around here like you own the school. You need to know your place. You've been slushied before, right, Hummel?" Azimio grinned nastily. He knew very well that Kurt had indeed been slushied. Kurt had told me that Azimio had been his 'secondary slushier'. Karofsky had been the main one.
"Yes, Azimio, I have. You should know that – you've done it to me enough! Or has it somehow slipped your mind?" Kurt snarled.
"I remember. I also know that your little boyfriend here –" he looked at me threateningly "– hasn't been. I bet he's been dying to have this experience, haven't you, Anderson?"
My eyes widened as I realized the implications of that sentence. Kurt opened his mouth to argue with the jock, but before he could get a word out, I had green slushy flying into my face.
My first reaction was to the freezing ice. Then I registered the other components of my now least-favourite beverage. The food colouring stung like hell in my eyes, and the ice hurt! Kurt had said before that it was like 'being bitch-slapped by an iceberg' and he wasn't wrong. I opened my burning eyes to see Kurt staring at me in horror and Azimio laughing and walking away with an empty slushy cup in his hand.
"Oh my Gucci, Blaine. Are you okay? Those guys are jerks," Kurt said, tears evident in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm alright. Man, this burns," I replied, wincing as more of the evil drink dripped into my eyes.
"Come with me, I know how to get it off. Ah, it's all over your vest! It doesn't matter," Kurt said hastily as I looked down and frowned. He led me to the bathroom, still talking. "We can get it dry cleaned. I swear, I'm going to speak to Figgins about having those machines removed. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Blaine, I really am."
We entered the bathroom and Kurt turned on the taps. He pulled out wipes from his bag and grabbed paper towel, beginning to wipe my vest clean. "It's fine, really. I knew what I was getting into when I transferred and although I'm not particularly fond of having colourful chopped ice all over me, I can live with it."
"You're right, it's all over you. It's gotten onto your pants as well! Take off your vest," he directed me. I obliged, handing it over. He continued. "This shouldn't have been something you had to brace yourself for when you came here. It should be over. We've complained to Figgins enough. I can't help feeling that I made it happen," he added, looking like he was about to cry. He kept dabbing at my vest.
"What?" I felt horrible. "You were in no way involved with this! How could you think it was your fault?"
"I made you come here –"
"No, it was my choice," I interrupted. "I wanted to be here with you and I knew I ran a risk of this happening. I came anyway. Because I love you. It's not your fault, Kurt," I said softly.
He smiled, a solitary tear running down his face. "Thank you. I love you too." I smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "But dear, I can't take you seriously, nor can I let you kiss me, with green glop all over your face. And you need a change of clothes." I looked down at my (now slushy covered) outfit and internally agreed.
"I have an idea. You stay and get cleaned up, and I'll be right back. Okay?" He didn't give me a chance to respond as he slipped out of the room. I looked at my reflection and sighed, ripping paper towel out of the holder and putting it under the warm water.
I had washed the glop completely off my face when he returned. "Okay, go into the stall and change into this. This is the best I could get on such short notice," he said, sounding like a salesperson as he pushed me towards the stall. He shoved the clothes unceremoniously into my hands and I shut the door. Without looking at my clothes or the mystery ones, I changed.
I emerged from the stall to the sight of Kurt trying (and failing) to hold back giggles. "What?" I asked defiantly. He just pointed to the mirror and finally burst out laughing as I caught my reflection. I managed to keep my expression calm and turned to face my impish boyfriend.
"Kurt?"
"Yes, dear?"
No way that innocence fools me anymore. "Why am I in Finn's clothes?"
"Because," he giggled, "it was the perfect opportunity to see how you looked in them."
I really should be working on chapters for Broken Walls. You know that thing called writer's block? Yeah. I absolutely hate it. And when this entered my head I was thrilled.
You know, my birthday's in 16 days. The 30th. You should review. Early birthday present?