This is going to get really smutty, or at least I hope it does, but for now it's just a fun little opening chapter. Let me know if it works. If not I can scrap it and start a new fic with much more depth.
I'm Kurt Hummel. I like Gaga, being right, movies that end with people in sunglasses driving sports cars, and quite recently I've taken a shine to cinnamon flavoured lip gloss. I dislike sweatpants, movies that end with slow motion explosions, people who think they're right when you know they're wrong, and people who show you pictures of their cats.
For Halloween last year I dressed for Christmas, Santa hat, tinsel, the works. I thought it was hilarious but no one else seemed to appreciate the irony of it all. My hobbies? I like shopping. My perks? Cursing in French. And my top ten things to do before I die? ...Blaine Anderson is definitely number one.
I'm staring at him right now. He recently transferred from some private school. I've heard/stalked his facebook that his dad lost his job and they had to make some cut backs. Adorably he still insists on wearing his school blazer, says he feels lost without it, which unsurprisingly doesn't go down very well at Mckinley. Apart from the blazer, the first thing you notice about him is his hair, his floppy, messy curls that are tamed neatly with gel at the beginning of the day and gradually break free as the lessons draw on. Sometimes I just want to bury myself in it. I could live there quite happily, telling it about my day, whispering sweet nothings to it. Mercedes tells me I have problems.
She's right. He's been here for over a month now and I have barely said 2 words to him. The most pressing problem is that when he looks at me I lose the ability to speak. I develop a hideous rash and begin to stammer. He thinks it's a medical thing. Mercedes asked him to pass something insignificant to me and he actually whispered "Who's Kurt? The guy with the stutter?" So now I have the added dilemma of ' do I lie and play along?' or 'tell the truth and admit that he makes me nervous?' It's much easier to opt for the former.
I even watched Clueless for tips the other day. Apparently it's good to show flesh because this reminds boys of being naked and this in turn reminds them of sex. I have always been a little wary of that whole area (and a whole lot nervous about it) but I figured there was no harm in following Cher's advice. I popped on a jumper that fell loosely off my shoulders, exposing my collar bone, which is as risqué as I am ever going to get. Unfortunately it's winter, so I just sat shivering at my desk, and I am already ghostly white at the best of times so I must've looked on the verge of death.
It got his attention though, Blaine leaned over and whispered "Are you ok? You don't look so good..."
Mercedes assures me he merely meant I looked ill, but a tiny part of me died that day and I don't believe in reincarnation.
Tip number 2: send yourself gifts, make yourself look in demand. I thought it a little arrogant but I was desperate, so I brought a single flower to school and tied a ribbon around it, attaching my name on a tiny piece of card. I 'oooed' a little as I pulled out the chair to reveal my present and began reading the name tag.
"Do you know who put this here for me?" I asked Blaine who was sat 2 empty desks away. He liked to get to class early to "prepare his notes" but I gathered the real reason he did this was because he didn't like hanging around in the corridors where there was a high chance of being beaten up.
"It's weird they knew what desk you were going to sit at." Blaine looked genuinely bewildered. He was right though, I changed desks in Math class constantly. I cursed myself inwardly... in French. I didn't try that again.
That left me with rule 3: 'anything you can do to draw attention to your mouth is good.' Easy. I've got a pen. I've got a mouth. I was surely onto a winner here. So I waited until Blaine was looking in my general direction and began dragging the lid along my lips. It wasn't long before I started to get a little carried away, swirling my tongue playfully around the tip and sighing with frustration. I let my eyelids flutter delicately as I pursed my lips and began to slide the length carefully inside my mouth. I completely missed Blaine's tiny whimper, missed him crossing his legs and practically knocking himself out on the tabletop, because I suddenly started to taste ink. I hurriedly licked my finger, which became coated with black spit. It was soaking into my lips too. I felt anything but attractive and spent a good few seconds spluttering into my hand before I had to go and clean myself up in the toilets.
I sold Clueless on ebay that night.
So now I'm all out of ideas. I should probably accept that he's out of my league but I tend to get a little obsessive over boys. I mean, I didn't quit until Finn had moved into my bedroom and my dad had to have a 'talk' with me about taking advantage of Sam. I keep assuming it's different this time because Blaine is actually gay, but then I can't automatically assume that because we're both gay he's going to be into me. Although I like to think that it makes us a perfect match.
I wish I could say I was bullied for being gay. It would make for a very dramatic, brooding autobiography. But alas it's 2011 and gay is in this year... last year it was vampires... the year before it was High School Musical. Instead I have to reluctantly admit I am actually bullied for being a show tune singing geek... (yeah the high school musical craze faded fast) some people say being gay is the same thing, and to be honest I should try harder to break the stereotype, but there are plenty of gay guys on the football team to do that for me.
I think it was Sue Sylvester who made me question my sexuality, and by that I mean made me question if I was actually straight. I'd never really thought about it before just gone with the flow... the flow being dreaming about boys dressed in Alexander McQueen, and waking up having to run to the toilet every night because I never did anything about it. Weird how the body sorts its own needs out. Anyway this year I was determined to put a stamped seal of approval on my gayness, and if I got cured of my 4:00am ejaculation problem in the process then that would be a bonus... Of course I knew just who to start with, but I needed to get his attention.
I'm Blaine Anderson. I like dressing up as Harry Potter, collecting Sonic the Hedgehog memorabilia and pretending I'm really into football because it's a riveting game when actually I just like the fact that I can stare at guys' arses in front of my dad. I dislike catching my bag on door handles and being dragged backwards, eating cold pizza, and being shouted at for staring at "guys who aren't on a football team's" arses.
For Halloween last year I went as bizarro Mario. I attempted to grow a real moustache but failed. My hobbies? Staring at footballers' arses. My perks? Also staring at footballers' arses. Top 10 things to do before I die? 10 footballers' arses... I'm actually quite a one-dimensional person.
Don't get me wrong I would never date a footballer. They've all had a few too many blows to the head. I think one of them tried to hit on me here at Mckinley, but then I'm not sure if 'playing for his team' was a double entendre or if he was actually confused about who his teammates were.
I do have one slight crush though. I only just learnt his name, and he has a stutter and a weird skin condition, and I think he has a stalker, but despite (and because of) all these things I think he is absolutely adorable. I actually got hard in class last week watching him suck on his pen. And seriously, he was good at it. I mean the pen basically exploded in his mouth. Just imagine, if he can do that to a pen then what would he be able to do to me? Hopefully the exact same thing...
Anyway I'm going off track here there are so many more important, much deeper things to share with you... so yeah I actually had to tuck my penis under my belt to cover up my erection! The little sighs he was making, ah delightful, and his tongue was working like magic. Harry Potter would've been put to shame. I just want to make it clear now that I do not fancy Harry Potter. I just like dressing up in wizard robes and singing about Hogwarts... which is far less weird.
Although I do think about sex a lot, and I like to think I'm pretty confident when it comes to guys, I've never had a boyfriend. This is probably why I'm so confident and thinking about sex so much... I'm yet to get knocked down and discover that sex is painful and unfulfilling. Until then though I am free to imagine Kurt's pretty little arse making its way down my cock as he whimpers my name and fingers my hole simultaneously. After I cum I feel wrong about it, like I should be asking his permission to imagine him that way, but I have yet to gather the courage to confront him with "Excuse me, but do you mind if I fantasize about fucking you tonight? I didn't think you would but I thought it polite to ask."
I wish I could say I got picked on for being gay, but unfortunately I have to admit that it's my private school mannerisms and the fact that I don't feel right without my Dalton blazer that get me beaten up. I'm not saying it's cool to get picked on for being gay, I'm just saying that it's much easier to tell people "oh it's because I'm gay which I can do nothing about" as opposed to "oh it's because I'm a weird little private school kid who is up his own ass." God I wish I could actually get up my own ass... Ok I really need to get laid... and I know just where to start!
Thank you for reading! Keep it? Scrap it? Somebody please tell me what to do so that I don't have to make my own decisions.
