A/N: This is my first Glee fic, so it's just me trying out an idea that got the adrenaline going etc. In advance, I'd like to apologise, because I'm not American so there will be loads of errors in that sense. I tried my hardest, honest. Oh, and it will, at some point be Kurt/Nearly everyone – but don't worry, he's just pursuing. You'll just have to wait and see who he ends up with... or if you have any suggestions.
Don't ask why Jesse's at their school, I just saw a preview for the Madonna ep, and it looked like he was so... there we go... my excuse.
Chapter One - Elbows
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
"Yes," Kurt replied, neatly slotting one book between two others in his locker. He heard Mercedes sigh deeply, and resorted to the truth - after all, it was obvious what her answer would have been seeing as she had asked the question. With nothing to prove, he eyed her up and down slightly - purposefully preoccupying his eyes because he didn't want to follow her heart-rending-ly longing gaze, "If by 'someone' you mean the tender crook of my elbow." He sighed, as she had, "No, I haven't. But I want to." That truth hit home more than Kurt's proud and confident facade would like to admit, but it wasn't as if he was incapable of keeping things locked up. His mind engrossed, his eyes thought themselves allowed to stray to the couple Mercedes had been watching. And he noted the dearth of butterflies that didn't flutter in his stomach when he saw Puck and Santana. Because it could have been worse. It could have been Finn.
He didn't know why he was thinking of that occurrence at this ungodly hour, but as it had popped itself to the forefront of his mind from whatever dingy little house in the back of his head that was in desperate need of a do-over (and those cobwebs were embarrassing) it had come from, he found it impossible, no matter how low his charges, to convince it that a cab trip back to its best-forgotten origin was the right way to go. So, he couldn't help but ponder. Ponder the way a cat patters around the edge of a pond, merely assessing the threat, before standing on a stray lily-pad and slipping in.
Even as the water did wonders for the dirt and gaminess in that cat's coat - or Kurt's perception of his age, gender and sexuality, if we're keeping it local - it still kind of resulted in a hell of a lot of frizz. And Kurt was left with a significantly effervescent desperation for the same thing he'd seen that day. He remembered Mercedes' unguarded ache for the Puck-Santana scenario, and how he'd shrugged it off, ignoring it with, what should have been, unnecessary fervour - only to let it come back and bite him rather harshly on his behind.
In a way, it was better the thought occurred when surrounded by empty time. Now he had a whole night to plan the needed rectification. And shamelessly plan, he would.
Kurt pulled into the parking lot, lovingly watching the shine on the car's bonnet as he turned into the space. The way he thought of it, the more work he put into making that paintwork shine, the more confidence he'd have in his own ability to shine. Today, it was sparkling. And so were Kurt's teeth, as he grinned at himself in the pull-down mirror behind the visor, of course, people rarely got to see Kurt's teeth - his lips had a tendency to stretch down over them when he smiled. But these were minor details, minor details. Something he'd learnt not to worry himself with, especially when there were so many more important things to stress and fret over - like the absence of a certain mister Finn Hudson when he gracefully lowered himself out of his car, or ate his lunch, or sung a duet in Glee Club. The absence of a certain mister Finn Hudson at his side.
Like I said - more important things.
"Hey, Kurt!"
Kurt smiled at that voice, the soft deep voice that blended into such richfulness when she opened her mouth and honoured those around her with the words of any such diva. Naturally, he opened the gap between his side and his elbow and let her slip her arm through, as happened every morning. He kept his head high as he snuck a glance at her, merely stating, "Why, I just love that outfit. It's screaming Urban-blueberry. Purple is definitely your colour," okay, so 'merely' and 'Kurt' and 'state' don't go together in a sentence, but you catch my drift.
"Thanks, Kurt!" She tilted her head to look up at him, beaming with pride and gratitude, as Kurt found her so often looking at him with.
"I aim to please, Mercedes," he casually flicked his hair to one side with a fingertip and smiled thinly,
"Oh, I know!"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Kurt's eyes widened, and his smile vanished - he hated to think that Mercedes knew something he didn't - someone of his style and superiority deserved to know even the tiniest nuggets of truth.
"Oh, Kurt, don't play dumb with me, you know I ain't stupid,"
"No, seriously, what are you talking about?" His heart beat firmer in his chest and his footsteps were slowing, something Mercedes picked up on, realising that he may be telling the truth
"Well, several little birdies told me that you spent yesterday lunch-break helping Finn with his Spanish," she twirled a finger on the word 'Birdies' and prodded the air in front of his chest. Then she winked, which made Kurt feel uneasy - not the fact that she knew he was deliberately sucking up to him and purposefully flirting for the entirety of that time, with things like 'Well, hello there mister Finn Hudson'.
"Several little birdies?" He replied, interested in how many people knew about his weakness when it came to the tall, dashing quarterback. And how his knees unwittingly trembled at the shortest of un-lust-ful glances. Mercedes knew, she wasn't stupid - any girl went gooey over Finn, so why shouldn't a gay guy.
"Okay, so it was only one - and that was me - but I just needed it to sound as though I had more evidence." She admitted, reassuming the steady, quickened pace that they had before taken. Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"No, all the evidence you need is my confirmation. And I willingly give it to you." he smirked, watching with no other means necessary than the corner of his eye to see her joy in the situation.
"D'you think you helped?"
"Most definitely, although I won't deny that I pity Mr Shue. Trying to teach that one Spanish is like trying to get Rachel Berry to realise the difference between the likes of Alexander McQueen or Mark Jacobs and the carefully designed couture of Wal-Mart."
Mercedes chuckled, until, that is, the door she'd pushed open revealed enough of the School building for her to see the two loved-up should-be singletons strutting down the corridor. Her hand instinctively went to her hip.
"Oh, sweet mother of Madonna. What's he doing here?" Kurt froze, hawk-eyeing the elegant boy walking their way, forgetting entirely to register the fact that Rachel Berry was on his arm.
"Oh my Lord, if he thinks he's coming anywhere near our Glee Club, I'll cut him like he ain't never been cut," Mercedes bopped her head to the side as she said it, raising both eyebrows in indignation as she saw where Jesse's eye's were looking. And then they furrowed when she saw Kurt's distant gaze that met them. "Don't you even think about it, Kurt. You can do better than that cheating piece of dirt,"
Kurt cleared his throat, clearing his mind of his mildly edited Puck-Santana scene - rather reluctantly, I might add. But a boy could dream. Dream being the operative word.
"Kurt, he doesn't know the meaning of Mark Jacobs," she insisted, watching his grimace.
"You're right, as usual. He's just landed Rachel because he couldn't get her grandmother. And he only went after her because my grandmother's in an urn - although, even I like a challenge,"
"Kurt, shut up. You aren't convincing anyone. You just need to control your testosterone,"
Kurt smiled and smoothed his fringe, "Mercedes, you should know me well enough to acknowledge the fact that it's the oestrogen you need to worry about."
She laughed in response and held the door open for him to follow her into Math. Unfortunately, Jesse and Rachel were quick to follow.
Kurt tried not to look, he really did, but his eyes were every bit as independent as he was - straying to where the long-haired potential lover was sat, and his stomach would have excelled in P.E class. Somersaults of that order were nearly unheard of. And what beautiful twist awaited him when his resilience caved, a seething gaze in return. So Kurt held it, relishing this change of routine. Until Mercedes squeezed the skin on the inside of his wrist. "Ow," he exclaimed,
"Kurt, I know you're allowed to like him, but I also know that look in your eye. And you ain't going to leave this. So, I'm telling you now, stay away from him." She watched him for a second longer, a challenging finger rose to his nose and a no-messing eyebrow plastered to her forehead. She eventually closed her mouth and looked at him, satisfied that her message had at least been part-heard, out of the side of her eye.
"Mercedes, I appreciate your concern as much as any man would, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."
"Oh, this isn't about you!" She yelled, eyes scrunched because she knew how narrow-minded and self-centred her friend could be, and also because this could amount to much more than one broken heart (because it would only ever be one, in her opinion) "This is about Glee Club, and Regionals. He isn't interested in you, and he most definitely isn't interested in Rachel."
A sigh escaped his lips, shaking his head in a 'Mercedes, Mercedes, Mercedes' kind of way, before, "Sometimes I forget your naivety," he tutted.
"My naivety?!"
"Well, who else am I talking to?" A hand went up and a head moved to the side, eyes were rolled and more snide words were spat, but there were never any long-term grudges that resided after these petty arguments. They felt the same as they always did. But that didn't mean the argument just stopped.
"If it makes you happy, I'll pretend that I'm trying to protect you, and I am, just not as much as I'm trying to protect Glee." Mercedes was trying her best to reason with him, but a head so clogged with perfection such as Kurt's was too hard to bring 'round.
"Flattering." Kurt simply said, swallowing how he would swallow lemon juice, un-crossing and re-crossing his legs and then turning to face the opposite direction - a childish statement, but one that infuriated nonetheless. But that girl knew better than to fuel his ever-burning desire to prove he was right, so plainly sighed and let the lesson pass without a further word.
Kurt, however - and this is where Mercedes' silence hit its downfall - spent the whole time, as he had the night before, only now with an object to focus on, planning.
He pulled out his Spanish book, tucked it under his arm, flipped out his compact mirror and checked both his face and Finn's (who was stood on the other side of the corridor). He couldn't help but point out to himself with a quiet, rumbling laugh how good they looked so close together, even if it was only by chance.
A clang caught him by surprise, and he snapped the mirror shut. "If I had a face like yours I'd smile when I looked in the mirror." A voice proclaimed, more than a tinge of seduction in its charming tones.
Kurt's smile was restored as he recognised the face, and lapped up the compliment. "You're very kind, Jesse St. James." He outstretched a hand to be shaken, but it wasn't taken. It wasn't even politely glanced at - no, Jesse's eyes were locked firmly with Kurt's, a smug smile played and twitched with his lips.
"Yes. Has Rachel mentioned me?" The skill and tactic was plain in Jesse's face, as if he was testing the other boy's reaction - testing for any feeling.
Kurt's hand went back to his bag and then slammed his locker door shut at the mention of her name - it was always her that got to his muse first - lips held very straight and his head was held high again. In defence not pride this time. "The name may have crossed lips,"
Jesse's eyebrow rose at the choice of phrasing, and Kurt visibly tightened. "Are you one of the cynic's who thought I was using her as a means of cheating?"
Kurt seized his opportunity, momentarily forgetting Berry, how he would seize the latest Dolce & Gabbana off the shelves - if he had the endless supply of money. "No, certainly not. I'm a great believer of 'love', only..." he paused, carefully changing his features so they resembled some sort of grief-stricken remorse, "... I haven't seen Rachel in Glee these past few sessions. I can't help but feel she's up to something. I know all too well how successful her schemes can be - like the time she quit Glee to join a separate show until she got exactly what she wanted. "Kurt relaxed, "I guess she's just a girl who gets what she wants. Personally, I think compromise is the way forward, that way everyone's happy,"
The boy leaning against his neighbouring locker shifted uncomfortably, and his face was suddenly apprehensive,
"You wouldn't know anything about her ploy, would you?" Kurt continued his lie with the kindest of pretences, wheedling his way closer into Jesse's periphery with that very thing as his main intention.
"No."
"Well, I have to go now. We can talk another time, yes?" And with that he sealed his next date. And with that he sealed his chance.
Jesse looked up, smiling, although it didn't reach his eyes. And then winked at the young infantile boy who was retreating to the Spanish classroom. Kurt blushed, and his breath hitched. Leaving him to settle in his seat with a mind swirling with possibility. Jesse St. James, and a distraught Rachel Berry. But mostly, a very happy Kurt Hummel.
Two birds with one stone, and all that.
Thanks a bunch for reading, and please review, they make me feel so special. And please can people pick up on any American-esque errors or give me tips to improve etc. I'm always keen and forever grateful!
You may think I made Kurt evil, but I honestly think he's like that. I love him all the same, though.
