Title: The Pleasures of Love (1/?)
Rating: PG for now
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 900/?
Summary: Blaine's got a job working as the keyholder of the practice rooms in the Music Department building. It's a job that he enjoys, even more so because of the gorgeous countertenor that always pops up at 4 PM on the dot. AU, in which Kurt is a voice major, and Blaine is the piano major who's got it bad.
Author's Note: I really just started writing this because I didn't want to study for my 4 music finals. Note to all: don't become a music major unless you want to take 8-9 classes a semester. With that being said, there's going to be some references to some terms that probably only music majors would have knowledge of - I'll explain them in the beginning of each chapter, so bear with me, yeah?
"I'd like a practice room, please."
Blaine looks up from his Harmony homework – seriously, Dr. Stucker? Was it really necessary to assign 4 pages of four part chorale style harmony due for the next day? – and his eyes immediately widen as a faint blush creeps onto his face.
Because Kurt Hummel is standing in front of him, holding a binder and a liter of water and staring right at Blaine and oh my god they're making eye contact Blaine do something –
"D-do you, uh. Piano?" Blaine somehow manages to force out, and immediately winces. Nice. Smooth.
"Yes, please, if there are any available. If not then I'll just take a room without." The "please hurry up, I need to start practicing now" is clear in the tone of his voice and Blaine scrambles to open the drawer to see what keys are available. Except Kurt Hummel is standing there watching him and instead of reaching for the keys on the right (where all of the keys for all of the rooms with pianos are), his mind blanks and he just… stares into the drawer.
"Uh – uhm, so… piano…" Blaine's mind is screaming at his hands to cooperate but they're either taking a day off or they just really, really fucking hate Blaine. He glances up quickly and when he sees the slight impatience on Kurt's (gorgeous, flawless, perfect) face, it spurs him into action. Reaching quickly into the drawer, he pulls out a key. "Is 12C okay with you?"
"Isn't that the one right next to the percussion studio? It might be a bit loud… is 19A available? That's my usual room, anyway."
"Uhm… y-yeah, it's available. Can I have your ID?"
Their hands brush as Kurt passes him his ID to be scanned into the system. Blaine swoons.
"O-okay, you're all set. 3 hours-"
"3 hours max in the room, I know. Thanks." Kurt shoots him a small smile before he leaves, walking quickly down the hall and disappearing into the last room on the left.
And Blaine sits and stares, trying to recall how smooth the tips of Kurt's fingers were. There's no way he'll be able to do his Harmony homework now.
Blaine's not creepy. He's not. On his first day taking the afternoon shift as the keyholder of the practice rooms in the beginning of the semester, he was ecstatic. He was making small talk with the people who came to get a key, he was complimenting a guitarist's guitar case. He was the epitome of the perfect employee.
But at 4 PM exactly, in walked the most beautiful man Blaine had ever seen, with chestnut brown hair styled high on his head and the most graceful poise he had ever seen in anyone, ever (which is saying something, because he's studied violin for years), and Blaine was done.
In the 2 minutes it took for Blaine to get a practice room for the boy, he had managed to not only (accidentally!) spit on his arm, but also cause the boy to spill some of his water. Also, he's still not sure if it really happened, but he's almost positive that he saluted at the boy when he walked up.
The boy left quickly after getting his key, clearly wanting to forget the entire exchange ever happened. But Blaine held his ID, gazing at the boy's picture and running his thumb over the name: Kurt Hummel.
A girl carrying a flute case chuckled as she dropped off her key. "Don't even think about it," she whispered conspiratorially as Blaine hastily shoved the ID into the drawer. "Kurt doesn't date. Like, at all. He spends all day in class, and always comes in from 4-5:30 to practice before he goes back to his dorm to do more work. I'm pretty sure he's married to his sheet music binder."
After Blaine's shift was over, he asked to be moved to the morning shift.
… Except today, he had switched times with the boy who worked the afternoon shift because of an unavoidable meeting with his advisor that morning, promptly forgetting about Kurt Hummel and his daily 4 PM practice.
… And completely (once again) making an ass of himself.
He's usually much more suave around boys. He'll never admit it to anyone, but Blaine knows that he's a bit of a catch; he's charming, he knows how to hold a conversation, he's easy on the eyes, and the fact that he knows how to play three instruments in addition to being able to sing is always a plus. So talking to boys? Easy enough.
Except clearly, when it comes to Kurt Hummel – who he's asked about, and has been told plays piano and is a countertenor, oh my god – he gets flustered and forgets how to move, never mind trying to talk.
But god, what a perfect human being.
Blaine is grateful that his shift ends at 4:30, so he doesn't have to worry about failing to interact with Kurt again when he goes to return his key.