This is a first in a series of Faberry oneshots I'm writing. With a twist, of course.
I tried to write Kurt in character as much as possible without it sounding like the stereotypical drivel that Kurt wouldn't actually say in 'real life'. Also, if people come to me, complaining how Rachel was all OOC and such... it's different. I tried to keep most of the same characteristics while changing them to fit the circumstances.
Deal with it.
Kurt considered himself a connoisseur of both sexes. Objectively speaking. He was an expert on the female form, mostly because most of his friends were of the fairer gender and felt no qualms changing in front of him. As for boys… well, he was a boy himself, wasn't he?
In addition to this fairly intimate understanding of the human body, most of his opinions on fashion and clothing were spot on; he could turn a Target buying, sweater wearing nerd into someone reasonably attractive. It was a point of pride, really. It was one of his favorite pastimes, actually-to mentally turn a zero into someone who could strut a runway in Milan, with help from his comrade-in-arms, Mercedes.
That's why he found, to his immense disappointment, that he was out of challenges. He'd accessorized everyone, from the marching band to the jocks… who was left?
"This is awful!" Kurt moaned at lunch to Mercedes.
"What, the food?" she asked, poking at the mess on her tray.
"No! –well, yes-," Kurt sighed, tucking an errant piece of hair back into his carefully styled wave. "What I meant was that I'm out of subjects."
Mercedes snickered. "No one left? You've actually played your little game with everyone at this school?"
"Pardon me," Kurt sniffed. "I don't remember you complaining when I turned Coach Sylvester from a track-suit wearing lunatic into a functioning member of society."
"I was too busy laughing." Mercedes quipped back.
"Anyway," Kurt stressed, rolling his eyes. "Help me. There has to be someone I haven't made fabulous yet."
"Ms. Pillsbury?" Mercedes offered weakly, tossing a tot into her mouth.
Kurt flapped a hand. "First semester of sophomore year."
"Figgins?"
"Freshman year."
"…Berry?"
Kurt blinked, sitting back in his chair. "Actually, I don't think I have. Huh."
"Don't we have Glee almost every day after class… you see Berry almost daily!"
"I was blinded by the plaid, alright?" Kurt snapped, his cheeks red. "I spend too much time making fun of the ridiculous sweaters and granny clothing to really focus on making a masterpiece."
"You're just embarrassed you missed that." Mercedes retorted, smirking.
"Hmph." Kurt turned up his nose and let Mercedes guide the conversation away to Mr. Smitch's English assignment.
When Kurt entered the chorus room –alone, for once, because Mercedes had forgotten something in her locker- he groaned at the lone person in the room.
Kurt felt his lip curl as he took in the other boy's glasses, argyle sweater and Target slacks. He could admit that there were some people who could pull off plaid and argyle and still look attractive (Scotsmen, for example) but Kurt would have to say that Berry was not one of them. Kurt shuddered, slightly, thankful when the other members of Glee club trickled in.
God, it was boys like Mordecai Brennan Berry that made him question his homosexuality.
Ignoring the fact that the brunette's ability to word vomit pretty much killed all of his meager sexual appeal, Kurt could see promise. A sharp jaw, thin and wiry; from a purely physical standpoint Berry rated above average.
Kurt narrowed his eyes; it was everything else that was the problem.
First things first; he would probably have to duct tape Berry's mouth shut and enlist the help of Santana and Brittany, the two Cheerios he knew that Berry was terrified of, to keep him in line (he was pretty sure Quinn would rather die than help make a loser like Berry attractive).
A new haircut, definitely, Kurt thought, narrowing his eyes at the telltale ragged ends of Berry's cheap Wal-Mart cut. If he took a little off the top it'd look less like a bad Beiber imitation and more like naturally arranged sex-hair.
Kurt smirked. The idea of Mordecai Berry with sex hair period was hilarious.
"Can I help you, Kurt?"
Kurt blinked to find the subject of his thoughts looking back at him, eyebrow raised in question. The rest of the club was looking at him expectantly with expressions ranging from boredom (Quinn), to gleeful (Puck).
"Got a crush Hummel?" Puck grinned, looking lewdly from the crimson faced Berry to the unimpressed Hummel.
"Though I am very flattered and would hate to hurt you in any way-"
"Calm down, Streisand." Kurt said, annoyed. The very idea of himself with Berry was… disturbing. "Puck's just being… Puck."
"Oh." Berry said, his eyes flicking to Puck in a knowing way. "I see… "He let it trail off suggestively, though what he was suggesting no one could guess.
"What are you sayin' Mort?" Puck asked gruffly, throwing a glare at the shorter boy who immediately puffed up, indignant.
"My name is not Mort, Noah- it doesn't even have a 't' in it!"
"Whatever."
Kurt sat back, faintly amused by the bickering, a face mirrored by nearly every other Glee clubber in the room. The club was still a little rough, all sharp angles and jagged pieces, but there was nothing more enjoyable than watching Mordecai Berry get worked up- no matter what level of the social pyramid you came from.
Well, who knew. The midget was good for something other than his voice after all.
