Author's notes/ hello there. first, to any of you following When The Day Met The Night, i'm currently writing the third chapter as we speak. type. ok. not really, but it's minimized. all you need to know is, it's being worked on. moving on. this came from working on a songfic for weezer's (if you're wondering if i want you to) i want you to, but i got halfway through the song and stopped. lack of ideas, if you will. but there were some parts i just really really loved, i just didn't know where to put them. so i shoved them into this oneshot. yay! i wrote a lot of this while listening to blink-182's going way to college, so that's what the lyrics are. seriously, go listen to it. amazing song. plus, it kind of fits klaine a little bit. or at least, i associate it with klaine. i associate everything with klaine, it's kind of pathetic. thank you for reading, please review!
Disclaimer/ lyrics are blink's, characters are ryan murphy's.
Blaine hops onto the counter with an easy grin, while Kurt leans easily against the island. Blaine kicks his feet back and forth, banging on the counter below him. Kurt smiles.
"You're five."
"Nuh uh, I'm this many," Blaine holds up six fingers and grins.
Kurt scoffs good-naturedly, "Oh, my bad."
Blaine leans forward and smiles conspiringly. "Hey," he says in a stage whisper.
Kurt bites his lip and tries to hide a dopey smile. "Hi."
"Can I tell you something?" Blaine asks. He reaches over to grab Kurt's hand.
Kurt looks down at his feet to hide his blush. He doesn't understand how anything Blaine does can send him into the mindset of a twelve year old girl. He thinks maybe it's always been that way.
"I love you," Blaine announces to the kitchen.
Kurt shoves at his chest lightly and bumps his nose against Blaine's. "So lame," he whispers, stepping in between Blaine's legs. Blaine hums softly and leans down to kiss him. "I love you too."
Blaine presses his nose against Kurt's cheek and smiles widely. "I know. But I like hearing you say it."
Kurt laughs, wrapping his arms around Blaine's middle. Blaine kisses Kurt's temple, and takes a moment to wonder how he got so lucky.
"Two feet apart, boys!"
Mrs. Anderson makes her way into the kitchen with a cheery smile. She drops a bag of groceries onto the island's countertop unceremoniously. Kurt jumps away, face bright red, and Blaine groans at the suddenly empty space in front of him. He gropes blindly and whines, "No, come back."
Kurt rolls his eyes. Mrs. Anderson pats his shoulder. "Nice to see you again, dear. Would you be a doll and help me and Blaine put the groceries away?"
"Of course, ma'am," Kurt says politely, winking at Blaine when his mother turns away.
I haven't been this scared, in a long time.
"I'll never let go, Jack…"
"Just kidding, the water's freezing!" Blaine yells, laughing loudly. From the other couch, Finn snorts. Rachel shushes them both. Kurt rolls his eyes.
"Shut up and watch the movie," he says, frowning. Blaine grins charmingly and pecks him on the forehead. Kurt lays his head back on Blaine's shoulder, shifting under his arm.
Blaine manages to keep quiet for two whole minutes.
"This movie's stupid," he whispers. Kurt swats at his arm.
"What kind of gay guy are you?" Kurt hisses, "You should be crying by now."
"You're not crying," Blaine points out airily. He sighs heavily and smushes his cheek against the top of Kurt's head. "It's a stupid movie," he repeats, "I was kind of hoping she'd fall off when he held her on the railing thing."
Kurt stifles a laugh. Blaine beams. Rachel shushes them loudly.
"Besides," Blaine whispers, "We all know that Inception is Titanic's sequel."
Kurt groans loudly and smacks his chest, burying his face into Blaine's shoulder as Jack dies.
and I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine.
Over the grainy web cam, Blaine's singing something loudly, trying to distract Kurt from his moisturizing routine. Kurt's been blatantly ignoring him for the past fifteen minutes, even going as far as to deliberately call something down to Finn. Blaine continues just as loudly as ever, looking particularly gleeful. Patting at his face with a towel, Kurt finally asks, "Do you maybe wanna come for dinner this Friday?"
"This world's an ugly place, but you're so—" Blaine suddenly cuts of, choking a little, and Kurt swallows a tiny giggle. Blaine catches his breath and glares, squints at the tiny camera. "Like, the Friday dinners? The ones that Rachel's not even allowed at?"
"Rachel shouldn't be allowed in public, period," Kurt comments off-handedly, "But yeah. It's not that big of a deal, Blaine."
"It's a big deal! This is like one of those meet the parents things you see in movies. Finn's gonna grill me and your dad's gonna polish his shot gun so it shines when he kills me and Carole's gonna try to poison my soup—"
Kurt sighs loudly, cutting him off. "Blaine, darling. You've met my parents more times than I can count. You've hung out with Finn without me, even. You're practically a piece of furniture in our house, you're over here so much. It's just dinner."
"Just dinner," Blaine repeats in disbelief.
Kurt rolls his eyes. "You're being overdramatic. My parents love you. That's why you're allowed and Rachel's not. The last time she came over for 'family bonding', we didn't even know until Carole found her going through Finn's laundry."
"Oh," Blaine says, brows furrowed.
Kurt's gaze softens. "Don't worry, okay? It'll be fine. We'll eat whatever fattening food Carole decides to make, Finn will make inappropriate jokes and then you'll ditch me to watch the game with my dad." He sighs happily.
Blaine narrows his eyes. "No poison soup?"
Kurt nods. "No poison soup."
Blaine hesitates, then says, "Okay."
Kurt beams and claps twice. Blaine thinks he'd so just about anything in the world to get Kurt to smile like that. "Dinner starts at 7, be at my house by 6." There's a knock on his door, "I gotta go, Carole's here for our nightly gossip session. Love you, bye!"
The screen turns black and Blaine wonders what the hell he just got himself into.
bouquet of clumsy words
"Meatloaf," Carole says proudly, setting the dish in the middle of the table. Kurt gapes and tries to catch Blaine's eye.
"Carole," Kurt hisses, eyes wide, "Blaine's—"
"Very hungry!" Blaine interrupts loudly, picking up his fork and shooting Kurt a warning look. Kurt stares at him in disbelief.
"You're kidding me," Kurt whispers fiercely, leaning in. Blaine shrugs.
"I'm taking one for the team because I love you and I want to make a good impression," Blaine hisses, forcing a charming smile on his face. Kurt narrows his eyes.
"You weren't worried about good impressions when you walked into my dad's shop and demanded he give me a sex talk before we were even dating," he pulls on his best bitch, please face and continues, "If he was able to look past that, Carole can accept that you're a freaking vegetarian."
Blaine pauses, thinking, and then smiles as Carole puts a piece on his plate. Kurt glares. Blaine pulls the plate forward. Kurt grabs at his wrists and forces them on the table. Blaine grits his teeth and pulls away. Finn looks confused, and Burt raises an eyebrow.
"Problem, boys?" he asks, and Kurt shakes his head.
"No," he says shortly, pushing Blaine back. Blaine shoots him a sideways glance and pauses, before shoving a forkful of meat in his mouth. Kurt gasps. "Blaine Anderson!"
"Mmph," Blaine says, chewing dramatically.
"Wipe that smug look off your face," Kurt grumbles, throwing his napkin at Blaine's face.
a simple melody
"You have a picture of me in your locker?"
The voice is delighted and maybe even a little smug, and it makes Kurt jump three feet in the air. "Blaine, you scared me."
"You have a picture of me. In your locker."
Kurt wants to curse, he wants to rip the picture down, shove it in the nearest trash can and act innocent. Picture, what picture? There's no picture. But Blaine's already seen it. They've been dating for less than a month and now Blaine's going to think he's creepy. Hell, Kurt is creepy. That picture has been there since last November. Blaine's going to think he's weird, he's going to break up with him and jump into the arms of some muscular guy who's ten times hotter than Kurt and ten times less creepy, and Kurt will never see him again. Ever. All he'll have left is a stupid picture.
Kurt steathily moves the locker door so Blaine can't see what's inside. He leans against the door and offers his brightest smile, carefully feeling around for the picture. When his hand reaches it, he throws it into his locker. It lands with a loud clang against the metal. Blaine's still grinning, except now his smile is a little more amused than it was before. "Blaine, hi," Kurt says breathlessly, "What brings you to my humble, uh, locker? No, sorry. That's lame. What are you doing here?"
Blaine's still dressed in his Dalton uniform and he's attracting quite a few stares. Kurt's not sure if it's because of the blazer or it's because a gorgeous boy is talking to him, of all people. Kurt barely registers that he's holding flowers. "I came to see you, of course. We got out early for teacher's convention and I thought I'd surprise you. It's actually really easy to charm your way past the secretaries," he pauses, "Is that okay?"
Kurt has to bite his lip to hold back his massive grin. "That...It's more than okay, yeah. Totally awesome."
Blaine smiles a little wider, and hands Kurt the bouquet. "For you," he says, and Kurt takes the flowers in awe.
"No one's ever given me flowers before." It slips out before he can stop himself. He flinches slightly, but Blaine doesn't seem bothered.
"Guess I'll have to make sure to buy you more, then," he says simply. Kurt nearly melts.
"Thank you," he says softly, "They're beautiful."
"I'm glad," Blaine's smile is blinding, "So, the picture?"
Kurt groans, and lets the locker slam against the row beside it. Blaine peers in and grabs the picture before Kurt can stop him. He catches sight of the newspaper-collage word courage and positively beams. Kurt waits, on edge, for him to say something.
"Thank God," Well, that wasn't exactly what Kurt was expecting. He raises both eyebrows. Blaine looks relieved as he explains, "I had a picture of you hanging in my dorm room. Wes kept calling me creepy, so I didn't wanna tell you. It's..." he pauses, embarassed, and says, "The picture's been there since December."
Kurt bursts out laughing. He slams his locker shut, grabs Blaine's hand and starts to pull him down the hallway. "You have no idea."
this world's an ugly place
"Blaine," Kurt hisses, eyes wide, "There's a mosquito on your shirt."
Blaine laughs, and Kurt shrinks away visibly. "Looks like it," Blaine says, pulling at his tee shirt to get a better look. He squints at the little bug and shrugs, before flicking it off. Kurt makes a strangled noise.
"You touched it!" he blurts out, scandalized. Blaine shrugs again.
"It's the only way to get him off," he grins, wiggling his fingers in front of Kurt's face, "That's right, fear the bug germs."
"Blaine," Kurt scoffs, shoving his hand away. Blaine catches Kurt's arm and pulls him closer, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Kurt smiles and settles against his chest. He fists a hand into Blaine's tee shirt and says, distastefully, "Slayer. A slayer shirt. You know, your music taste is very questionable."
"They're iconic," Blaine says defensively, "We can't all love musicals as much as you do, Mr. Broadway. I mean, I love RENT as much as the next gay guy, but…"
"Please tell me you are not comparing Slayer to RENT," Kurt says flatly. Blaine just smiles a little mischievously and nuzzles his nose into Kurt's hair. "You're unbearable, sometimes," Kurt mumbles. Blaine hums happily.
When Blaine had said he wanted to take Kurt out for a romantic date, Kurt expected a nice candlelit dinner, or maybe a picnic in the park. Not an excruciatingly long drive to a lake in the middle of a forest somewhere in Westerville. It was bug infested and dirty and Blaine expected them to sit on the ground when Kurt was wearing light-wash jeans. The only reason Kurt even agreed was the hopeful look in Blaine's eyes (and, whether he wants to admit it or not—and he doesn't—Blaine looks really good in that tee-shirt. However tacky it might be.) The moon is kind of pretty, and the whole scenario kind of reminds Kurt of a really cheesy romantic comedy—which he secretly loves, and Blaine knows that very well. Kurt lays his head against Blaine's shoulder and sighs.
"The moon looks really pretty," he comments off-handedly. Blaine grabs his hand and starts to play with his fingers.
"Just like your eyes," Blaine sings, grinning. Kurt cranes his neck to glare.
"You're so lame," he says mournfully. Blaine leans down and kisses Kurt.
"Yeah," he says, "But you love me."
Kurt flushes bright red, because yeah, he kind of does.
but you're so beautiful to me.