A/N: FutureFic, New York City, Vogue. Warning for voyeurism. Inspired by the Klaine Drabble Prompt 'cloud'.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Kurt grumbles as he gets off the elevator, stomps down the hallway to his supply closet office, and drops his bag on his desk.
"Language, Mr. Hummel," Isabelle scolds playfully, following her cursing employee into his cramped work space.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says, blowing a breath between clenched teeth, "but I've already lost my new phone."
"Oh, no!" Isabelle raises a hand to her mouth, giving Kurt's predicament the appropriate amount of gravitas, especially considering how excited he was about upgrading.
Kurt really loved his new phone, and three short days later it was already gone.
"Do you have any idea where it might have disappeared to?" she asks, watching Kurt root through his bag, pulling out the contents and laying them on his desk.
"No," Kurt says, throwing his hands up in frustration. He props them on his hips as he surveys the mess on his desk. "And this is the seventh time I've been through my bag. I just hope I lost it at home and not on the subway over here."
Kurt plops down into his chair. He holds his bag open at the edge of his desk with one hand, and sweeps his things back into it with his free arm.
"Well, there's nothing else I can do about it now." Kurt closes his bag and shoves it against the wall. He sinks into his chair and sighs. The day is already shot, and it's only nine in the morning.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do," Isabelle says, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.
"I will." Kurt smiles up at her as he opens his laptop. His computer comes out of hibernation, and immediately he has an alert in the bottom, right-hand corner of his screen. Kurt glosses over it, but Isabelle notices it. Her brow furrows.
"What's that?" she asks, pointing a long, blush-painted nail at the tiny rectangle. Kurt follows her finger and sees the narrow box.
"That's my Cloud alert," Kurt says, moving his cursor over it. He clicks on it and a larger box pops up. Kurt reads it, confused. "A new photo has been uploaded to my Cloud?"
Isabelle gasps.
"That means someone has your phone!" she says, anxiously patting Kurt's shoulder. "And they're taking pictures!"
"What the…no!" Kurt exclaims, opening his Cloud account to check the photos. "Oh, please be at home. Please just be Brian…" he mutters, hoping that his phone is lying on the floor at home and that his cat took a selfie. But no such luck. Kurt opens the picture and sees a hand wearing a black leather glove flipping him the bird.
Kurt and Isabelle gasp at the same time.
"How rude!" Isabelle says.
Another alert box comes up on the screen and Kurt clicks it. A second picture opens, but this time it's a picture of a random Lord Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.
"Awww," Isabelle coos, leaning closer to the screen. "Cute puppy."
"Yeah," Kurt agrees, "well, at least we know that the asshole who took my phone saw a cute dog today. Lucky him."
Another alert box comes up and Kurt opens the picture. A giant dead fish face gapes back at them, its cold eye staring blankly up and its mouth hanging open.
"Ewww," they both say at once. Kurt shuffles his feet angrily beneath his desk.
"Don't tell me my phone is touching dead fish," he complains in a trembling voice. Now he's not sure that he wants the phone back, but he definitely wants to throttle whoever took it.
Another box pops up and Kurt opens it quickly. It's a difficult image to decipher at first. Both he and Isabelle stare for a moment before it hits them, and they yelp, turning their heads in disgust.
"Oh my God!" Kurt yells, standing up from his chair to get as far away as he can from this photo of some guy peeing, his dick on full display in the image, along with the bright, yellow stream.
"That's….that's just…" Isabelle mutters, taking peeks back at the screen while she tries to think of an appropriate word.
"That's uncalled for!" Kurt fills in, also taking peeks at the screen. On his third peek, he spots something that makes him turn fully back to his computer. He sits down in his seat and pulls himself closer, frowning as he stares at the unsolicited dick pic.
"Kurt!" Isabelle cries. "Really?"
"Wait a minute," he says, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his cheek. "That freckle…"
"What…what freckle?" Isabelle asks, turning back around and leaning in to see what Kurt's talking about.
"Here," Kurt says, pointing to an ill-defined brown mark on the peeing man's shaft. "I know that freckle."
Kurt reaches across his desk for the phone, his eyes glued angrily to his screen. He punches in a number on speed dial and raises the receiver to his ear. Three rings later, a man answers.
"Yes?" the voice says, his professional demeanor attempting to cover his muffled laughter.
"Sebastian Smythe!" Kurt scolds. "You bring me back my new phone right now!"