A/N: Hello all! Told you you'd be seeing me. Anyways, this is a new venture of mine that I have fallen in love with, and what a perfect day to start it on! Not just a Valentine's Day fic, but that is the main theme. I've started this because I've decided to post the last chapter of two of my other stories soon and wanted to add a multi-chapter fic to the mix of one-shots I have. I'm trying to expand a little.
Disclaimer: This will never change, I don't own Glee.
Happy Valentine's Day to all, and to all a little love.
Enjoy!
Manning the booth was only supposed to entail watching it (because no girl wanted to kiss him—besides Brittany, but she was different; his first ex has a special place in his heart) while Finn took his diseased self to the bathroom.
Kurt shuddered, honestly baffled at how he could have ever, actually been attracted to Finn, let alone had a crush on him.
Hero worship—it's a bitch.
Kurt inspected his nails critically, using the multifaceted nail file he borrowed from Tina (because he left his at home thinking he would not be bored enough to want to use it—he stood corrected) to buff his nails to a shine. He was so glad he no longer fancied himself the damsel in distress.
Kurt shuddered again, Finn probably has every mouth disease under the sun now; and it would not be a complete shock if he did, with the way that relationships changed in the Glee club, there was no limit the ever changing partners that the rest of the school was exposed to.
"I'm so not sharing hot milk with him tonight," Kurt whispered to himself.
"Sounds dirty."
Blue eyes snapped up, meeting brilliant hazel freckled with green and gold. Sweet McQueen, I'm -so- in love with you, Kurt smiled at the other teen before his brain caught up with him, Did I just say that out loud? Kurt examined the way Blaine Anderson (bad boy extraordinar) was looking at him, and nope, his smirk was just as cocky looking as always. No, no I did not. "It would to you, I'm sure everything sounds dirty to you. Like math, for example."
Blaine hummed, letting his leaning arms slide slightly forward across the top of the booth, until he was able to rest his chin on his folded arms, "Add me, you, and a bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs... I've always been really good at math." And winked.
Freaking winked.
Kurt certainly did not gape at the other teen, nope.
"Careful, beautiful. That mouth of yours is giving me ideas," he said and wiggled his eye brows.
Once his brain had finally caught up to him, Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Anderson?"
Blaine let his eyes trail from Kurt's and down, looking at him—actually checking him out.
Kurt could have just died—but to prove to himself he did not actually die and that this was not some weird version of heaven, and actually real life, he pinched himself. Yup, totally real.
"Well," this time the teen's eyes moved to the ridiculously decorated booth, "you're sitting at a kissing booth—"
"Just for a few minutes!"
"—and the sign says 'One dollar, one kiss'—"
"It's Finn's stupid booth!"
"—and I'm sure all of this is for the silly choir club—"
"Show choir. You, being gay, should know this."
"—and even though I have absolutely no interest in you silly choir club—"
"Show choir."
"—I do have an interest in you," Blaine finished off with a smirk.
Kurt remained silent, honestly having no response to that statement because those words worked much like the clear button on a calculator, none of his other thoughts were a part of this equation now.
A large stack of money was placed in front of Kurt then, a very large stack.
Well, when in doubt (or too nervous to think), let the defensive mechanism kick in, "What is that?" So what if it was changing the subject defensively—with a splash of catty.
"That," the other teen mimicked, leaning over the small counter top of the booth, moving back into Kurt's personal space, "is a wad of cash. Three hundred and sixty five dollars, to be exact... In ones."
You don't want to know. Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it.
"And why are you putting three hundred and sixty five dollars in front of me?" Or you can say it, that works too. Idiot.
"Well," Blaine rocked of his feet slightly, letting a shit-eating-grin pulling at his lips, "'One dollar, one kiss.'"
Kurt blinked once, twice, thrice and then a blush lit up his entire face. "No."
"Uh, yeah," Blaine shot back, "I'm a paying customer and the customer always gets what he wants."
"It's 'The customer's always right.'"
"Well then," he huffed, "I claim false advertisement. You have a sign that says 'One dollar, one kiss.' I have three hundred and sixty five said dollars and no kisses." Blaine drew himself back, arms crossed over his chest and an over-exaggerated scowl on his face. "Unbelievable, no wonder no one likes your choir club, it's full of liars and cheats."
Kurt had nothing to say. Not even correcting Blaine about the Glee club, too shocked into silence by the sheer fact that a boy, Blaine Anderson was getting upset (despite how over-played it was) and making a scene over not being able to kiss him—him, Kurt Hummel.
Thankfully he was saved by none other than his oak of a brother.
"Woah, dude!" Finn exclaimed, picking up the stack of cash that Blaine had laid down, "Nice haul! I didn't think that any girls would come by, you know, since you're gay and all. But I guess it makes sense, since you're the only guy that gets to go to the girls' sleep-overs... I mean, you must know a lot from them telling you stuff, since you're gay and all."
Kurt, after a moment of just staring at his "brother" like he had suddenly exclaimed that winter berry was not in this season, but in fact tangerine was, so said Vogue, opened his mouth to tear Finn a new one—
"Are you stupid, or something?" Blaine beat him to it. "I mean, seriously, you have to be socially inept and blind to seriously think that Kurt would get all that money from kissing girls."
"Hey!" Kurt exclaimed, rounding a glare on Blaine and his stupid, caramel get-lost-in-me eyes.
Blaine just smirked, "No offense, beautiful. I just think I'm better suited for you than some crummy old girl."
A blush lit up the other teen's face, embarrassment causing him to stutter over his come back, "W-way to sound mature."
The smirk just got bigger, "Only for you, gorgeous."
Okay, I'm going to die from blood loss. Faint from all the blood rushing to my face and die.
"Well," Blaine said, drawing Kurt's attention back to him (Kurt had to look away, the embarrassment was almost too much, but Blaine had a quality that demanded attention, so when he spoke, Kurt looked—he seriously could not help it), "since Sasquatch took the payment—"
Kurt did not stand a chance as Blaine braced his hands on the booth counter and launched himself up, Blaine's lips meeting his own in a smash of flesh. It was not all that pleasant really, but how could it be when Blaine had basically threw himself at Kurt—and boy did that short circuit his brain from the frozen state that the kiss had caused. Even as his brain tried to reboot and he got the sense that he should push Blaine away—all he could think about was that this was Blaine Anderson, another boy, in Ohio, kissing him. Blaine Anderson! When up until this point Kurt had the sinking feeling that he would be the only one of his friends that would not experience the high school romance, that everyone looked back on. That first love when you both are too young to make any real decisions about life but do anyways because you are so in love that that is all that matters.
In those short seconds of Blaine's lips pressed against his, Kurt saw that very thing between him and Blaine. Though Blaine was a lot more posh and polished in his mind and liked to wear bowties and single silly romance songs to Kurt.
Then Kurt was back, same as before, sitting behind the booth and staring into Blaine Anderson's cocky eyes with an amused and dirty smirk pulling at his lips—lips that were just on Kurt's. His hand flew up to his mouth, touching his lips in disbelief and providing a sort of barrier to prevent further assault—even if his heart was calling for more.
It was a stupid, useless organ. What did it know anyways?
"I'll take that as my first installment." Blaine said, slowly backing up with a little bit more swagger in his walk, "Only three hundred and sixty four more until we're even, Hummel." And with one final smirk, Blaine turned and waved off-handedly, "See you around."
Kurt watched Blaine with wide shocked eyes until he turned at the nearest corner before shooting a look over at Finn, who probably looked as equally shocked as he felt. "I'm screwed," he said, hand still pressed in front of his mouth. In love and so very, very screwed. "And it's all your fault."
"Wait, what?" Finn exclaimed, "What did I do?"
The other teen just sighed and shook his head, "You took the money, Finn! Now I have to kiss Blaine—freaking—Anderson at least once a day for a whole year!"
Finn looked thoughtful for a second before a confused expression came over his face, "Isn't that a good thing? Since you're gay and all?"
Kurt scoffed and stood up, causing Finn to wisely back away from him, "I'm not you, Finn! Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I want to kiss every guy, gay or straight, that looks my way." He rolled his eyes and braced his fists on his hips, "I would say the same for you about being straight and not wanting to kiss every girl that looked your way, but—" he gestured towards the booth, "—clearly, that wouldn't be entirely accurate." And with that, Kurt made a very Diva-ish exit that would have even made Santana proud.
It did not change the fact that he was screwed... and that much closer for actually falling in love with Blaine Anderson.
Why were bad boys so attractive?
A/N: Well, a little on the short side but I like to keep them at a manageable level. Anyways, tell me what you think!
Until next time,
Anjel Starlight