Author's Notes: In celebration of finally taking my licensing exam and not having to study anymore...I wrote these cracky, angst-free drabbles. I'm not ignoring canon, but I think I'm all angsted out at the moment, which is saying something because I love angst.
"You're wearing a bow tie."
Blaine paused, mid-introduction, his arms faltering from where they were held aloft (and with gusto) on either side of his body. "I...Is it too much?" he asked uncertainly, brow furrowing as he glanced about for a mirror. When he spotted the full length mirror behind him, he turned around to survey his outfit.
The corners of Kurt's lips twitched. "Er...no. It...really compliments your ensemble," he finished lamely, despite it being true. The red accessory coupled with the white button down and navy vest was nothing less than charming on the curly-haired teen. Still, it didn't make it any less bizarre that a boy—a very cute looking boy—was standing in the middle of his bedroom, where only seconds before he was apparently present inside of the coffee press Kurt just bought. But, you know, bow ties. It was just about all Kurt could manage to focus on at the moment.
Blaine beamed as he spun back around and piped, "Thanks!"
Kurt cleared his throat. "You're welcome." His eyes swept across the other's body once more before saying, "It's just...well...I thought genie attire was pretty standard."
Blaine blinked once, tilting his head to the side in apparent confusion. So, Kurt explained, "You know, parachute pants and elf shoes—not..." Kurt waved his hands a little helplessly. "...something you would see on the cover of Vogue."
Blaine's eyes widened at that. "Last month's issue was phenomenal, wasn't it?" he gushed.
"Yes—I mean, no, that's not the point!"
Kurt's slightly hysterical voice echoed loudly off his bedroom walls, and he pressed his hand to his mouth once he realized he was shouting. In the awkward silence that followed, Blaine stared at Kurt while Kurt stared mutely back.
"So, my clothesare throwing you off," Blaine said in careful, even tones so as not to be misunderstood, "and not the fact that I just materialized out of that old French press?"
Kurt felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Well, when you put it like that, I feel all sorts of ridiculous now."
"Don't feel ridiculous..." Blaine trailed off and looked at him expectantly.
"...Kurt."
"Kurt," Blaine repeated carefully as if savoring the word. Then, "Master." And if possible, Kurt's face heated up more. "My name is Blaine, and I am a genie, who felt parachute pants were so very 64 B.C. I still have the shoes though. They're a great ice breaker."
Blaine winked, and Kurt huffed out a surprised laugh. Encouraged, Blaine, with that ever present and warm smile, continued, "I'm here to grant you three wishes, Master." With his head bowed and the palm of his right hand pressed over his chest, Blaine looked up at Kurt and said, "What will they be?"