I Wish You Knew
A/N: Well, if you clicked here, you must be awesome! Thank you!
And just to clear up any confusion I'm going to be using she to describe Blaine physically and he to describe Rachel physically. Did that make any sense? Hope it did.
Title is from Enchanted (Owl City's version).
I don't own Glee!
When Rachel Berry's alarm clock rang, waking her up from a restful slumber, she sat up and stretched, a big smile on her face. Then she turned to her arm clock, seeing that it was actually 7 a.m. and not 6.
Smothering a yawn, she quickly pushed away the covers and jumped out of bed. There would be no time for her workout or a shower.
Then she froze, looking around the room. Where were her cheerful yellow walls, colorful bed sheets and Broadway posters? What was with the olive green walls, simple white sheets, and tasteful, plain paintings? Had her dads come in and redecorated while she was sleeping?
"Dads?" she shouted, and let out a scream of shock, which scared her even more.
That wasn't her voice! It was a much deeper, manlier voice…
"What the hell?" she cried out, grabbing her hair in frustration. Once again, it was definitely not her hair. What had once been her long, tangle-free locks were now crazy, thick curls.
And instead of her favorite pink heart-patterned pajamas, she was wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants.
Rachel started hyperventilating, shoulders going up and down as she began to lose her cool. "," she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. "This is just a dream, just a dream! I'm going to slap myself and then I'll wake up."
But even when she brought both hands to her face in a Home Alone-inspired position and opened her eyes, she was still standing there in some guy's room.
Wait, not just any guy. She knew that voice. She was Blaine Anderson.
As if on cue, the phone on the nightstand started blaring Teenage Dream loudly, and Rachel reached for it. Kurt had texted her—no, he had texted Blaine.
Rachel ignored the text and instead quickly dialed her home phone, tapping her foot impatiently as the dial tone continued. Finally, Hiram Berry answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, Da—um, Mr. Berry," Rachel stuttered, finding it the weirdest thing to call her dad Mr. Berry. "Er, is Rachel there?"
"Sure, one moment," Hiram said kindly. In the background, Rachel could hear Leroy talking, and she sighed, missing her dads. Finally, someone picked up, and a very familiar voice answered.
"Who is it?" her own voice asked her. Rachel was stunned silent for a second, but quickly regained her composure.
"R-Rachel?" she asked timidly, "is that you?"
"Oh my God, you're Blaine," the other person exclaimed. "Give me back my body!"
"Blaine?" Rachel said, dumbfounded. "Are you in my body?"
"Rachel?" Blaine's voice was getting higher and higher, panicking.
"Yes, it's me," Rachel answered, still not used to talking with 'herself' on the phone. "What in the world happened?"
"I don't know," Blaine answered. "I woke up, and I was in this horrendous yellow room, and I was wearing these god-awful pink pajamas—"
"Hey!" Rachel cried.
"—Shush! Let me finish! And then two strange men came in and said, 'Good morning, Rach!'—"
"Those are my dads!"
"—and kissed my forehead. Then I ran straight to your bathroom and I saw you standing there where I should have been!" Blaine finished, panting for breath afterwards.
"What are we going to do?" Rachel cried, opening and slamming doors to try and find the bathroom. The first door was a walk-in closet. The second was, thankfully, Blaine's bathroom.
She stood in front of the mirror, staring. Since it was part of her routine, she'd forgotten about the switch and had expected to see herself staring back, but it was Blaine.
"Hello? Hello?"
"Blaine?" Rachel responded.
"Let's just get to school and then we can try to figure it out, okay? Kurt's picking you up today because you can't drive," Blaine reminded her. "And remember to use gel on your hair, or else it'll look crazy. And you need to choose something good to wear."
"Okay. We'll talk at school, okay?" Rachel asked, biting at her lip.
"Okay, bye, Rachel," Blaine said, and hung up.
Before she could go back to her room, Rachel felt an ache in her bladder and realized she had to pee. "Um… okay," she said to herself as she stood in front of the toilet. "I can do this."
Cautiously, she dropped her pants. Grabbing a tissue, she then very carefully reached into her boxers, letting out a disgusted squeal as her hand touched Blaine's cock. She took it out, still touching it through the tissue, and pointed it towards the bowl.
Once she was done, she dropped the tissue into the garbage and flushed, quickly scrubbing at her hands with extra soap. That was the strangest experience of my life.
When she was done with her peeing, Rachel began rummaging through Blaine's closet, unsure of what to do with the pressed shirts, sweater vests, cropped pants, and bowties that were all neatly hung on the racks. Finally, she found a black shirt, blue pants and a blue bowtie and hurriedly changed, unable to resist gaping at her own shirtless self.
Whoa. Blaine was actually really, really hot, Rachel realized, poking at her abs as she slid on her clothes. Once she had gotten dressed, now came the hard part—the gel. Examining the tube on the bathroom counter, she realized she had no idea at all how to do this.
Deciding to wing it, she squeezed a handful of gel and slapped it right on the top of her head, sending drops of gel flying everywhere.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she scolded herself, and quickly took a glance at the clock. It was seven thirty. School began at eight oh five, so Kurt should be here soon. Rachel hurriedly began rubbing the gel around, unsure of how to really tame her hair.
In the end, she decided to just flatten out the curls until they weren't puffy anymore, using up nearly half the bottle of gel.
It looked a whole lot neater when Blaine did it, Rachel thought, eyeing her hair suspiciously. It was all flattened down, but was insanely shiny from all the gel and it was lumpy, making her look like her head was dented.
"Oh, what the hell," she sighed, and left the bathroom.
She had no idea what classes Blaine had, but luckily, he had packed his backpack the night before, with his class schedule neatly tucked into a pocket in his binder. Rachel noticed that all his school supplies, from his backpack to his erasers, were either red or navy—Dalton Academy colors. "Figures," she said, smiling.
"Blaine?"
Rachel glanced up to see her bedroom door opening, and a taller, older version of Blaine entered. "Um, good morning," she said, unsure what to say. From what she'd heard, Blaine's relationship with his dad wasn't exactly the best.
"…Yes." Mr. Anderson looked her up and down, and she felt herself shrinking. "How will you be getting to school today?"
"Well, I—er, Kurt… he's picking me up," Rachel explained, swinging her backpack over her shoulder.
"Fine." With that, Mr. Anderson left the room, taking the air of stern disapproval with him.
Rachel shivered. She'd only known Blaine's father for about twenty seconds and already he seemed like a nightmare! Poor Blaine.
Her phone blared Katy Perry again, and this time it was Kurt calling.
Rachel picked it up. "Hello?"
"Morning!" Kurt's voice chirped into her ear. "I'm downstairs! Are you all ready to go?"
"Um, yep, sure," Rachel said as brightly as she could. "I will be right down."
She slid the phone into her pocket and headed out the door.
Blaine glanced at himself in Rachel's mirror, wondering if he'd gotten her look right. He'd found a navy polka-dot dress with spaghetti straps and paired it with red flats, hoping it was a Rachel-y enough look. He was absolutely fascinated with her hair. It was naturally straight and shiny, though it felt as thick as the width of his hand and was a nightmare to brush. Without any hairstyling products to aid him, he'd left it loose, allowing it to fall gracefully over his shoulders.
Rachel didn't seem to wear much makeup, so he rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a tube of mascara and an eyelash curler, having learned a little bit on how to wear makeup from paging through Kurt's magazines.
He stuck the eyelash curler as close to his eyelid as possible, took in a breath, and clamped as hard as he could.
"AHHHHHHHH!" he shrieked as he pinched his eyelid. "OW! FUCK! OW!"
"Rachel?" he heard one of Rachel's dads call. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, Dad!" he yelled back, rubbing the spot where he had pinched himself. It took him a few tries to get his eyelashes curly, and even after that, he had trouble not getting mascara all over his eyes. How did girls even do this stuff?
After ten minutes perfecting his mascara, Blaine grabbed a random tube of hot pink lipgloss and smeared some on his lips, mashing them together in hopes of spreading out the lip gloss more. After getting some on his chin and somehow smearing some on his ear, he gave up and wiped everything off, going for a clear lip balm instead.
"Rachel, you have to drive to school in five minutes!" Rachel's other dad yelled.
Shoot. Drive? I can't drive! Sure, I learned a little, but that was in a parking lot at midnight with no one but me and Kurt. Rachel's drives mean going on the actual road, with actual cars.
"Actually, Finn's picking me up!" Blaine lied, his fingers flying over Rachel's phone as he texted Finn, asking for a ride. To his relief, Finn responded instantly with a "yes" and "I'm on my way, be there in 5". Blaine reached for his school bag and hurried downstairs to Rachel's kitchen, where both dads were cooking breakfast.
"Toast?" Hiram Berry offered. "It's fresh!"
"N-no, thanks, Dad," Blaine said, starting as Leroy gave her a hug and a kiss on his forehead. He wasn't used to getting this type of affection from his own dad. "I, er… I'm going to be late."
"I thought Finn was driving you?"
"Well, er…" Rachel's phone buzzed—it was Finn, telling him he was outside. "Kurt—I mean, Finn's outside, I don't want to make us both late!"
Rachel's dad gave him a strange look. "You okay, Rach? You seem kind of different today."
He forced a light laugh as he made his way to what seemed to be the door. "I don't know, maybe I'm kinda tired! Well gotta run, Dads, bye…"
Blaine was about to open the door when her dad spoke again. "Rachel? Where are you going? That's the guest bathroom."
There was a moment of silence before Blaine remembered that he was Rachel. "Oh! Haha! Yes, the bathroom! Ha! Well, er, I knew that, of course. Wh-where's the door again?"
His dads exchanged a look before guiding Blaine to the doorway. "Are you sure you're feeling well? You seem somewhat delirious, Rachel," one of them—Blaine had completely forgotten who was who—asked again.
"No, I am perfectly fine. Trust me. I—er, I love you, Dads," Blaine said. He gave them both kisses on the cheek before running out of the house as fast as possible.
Brrrrr! Blaine thought as he went down the driveway and hurried to where Finn was parked. It was the beginning of December, why in the world had he decided to wear a sundress and flats?
"Hi, babe," Finn said as Blaine got in the car. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah—" Blaine was cut off as Finn pulled him close and kissed him smack on the mouth.
Uh-oh, I'm kissing Finn… I don't think Rachel's going to be too happy about that! Or Kurt, either. I can't push him off! He's like a giant bear! Yuck, he's sliding his tongue in! I mean, if he were Kurt I'd be fine with that, but I can't kiss Finn! Ew!
Thankfully, Finn pulled away soon enough, and they began the drive to McKinley. Blaine politely wiped his mouth while facing away from Finn, and let out a long sigh as he did.
He'd already hated Mondays before this and almost always had a bad start of the week, but he could tell that this time it was going to be even worse.
A/N: Well, thank you so much for reading! Please review!
xx