Applesauce, a Glee fiction
I do not own Glee. Reviews are welcome as always.
I was sitting on top of my bed, legs criss cross applesauce. Kurt was next to me, legs in the same fashion. My knees were pointed in his direction. He was at a tilt, his right knee scraping against mine. It was rocking back and forth ever so slowly. I wondered if he was doing it on purpose. I glanced up at him. He was still staring intently at the two DVD covers he had in front of him. In his left hand was Sleepless in Seattle. His right hand was curled around a copy of When Harry Met Sally.
You see, Kurt had made it a movie night tradition to pick an actor, or actress, from a hat and watch a movie that they starred in. Last time he picked Zac Efron out of the hat. I'm still not sure how that name got put in there. I'm thinking someone kidnapped our hat and put new names in there. For a moment I feared that we'd have to watch High School Musical. Then Kurt pulled out Hairspray and I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have ever doubted the awesomeness that is Kurt?
"Hey Kurt, are you hungry?" He set the movies down on the bed and turned his attention towards me. He scooted closer to me. This time I Knew it was on purpose as our knees bumped.
"Why as a matter of fact," he leaned in. Oh, so he was hungry. Suddenly I felt very famished. And I was craving Kurt. His stomach gurgled. "I'm starving." He propelled himself off the bed, pushing past me. It would've been much easier for him just to back off the bed. I could've mentioned it, but I was too busy thanking the other-worldly spirits for giving me such a view.
We headed into the deserted kitchen. Opening the fridge, I found a container of leftovers. I pulled it out and peered inside.
"Summer pasta salad," I remarked, sniffing it to make sure it was still good. It was.
"But it's not even spring yet." Kurt pretended to scoff. I split the dish between two plates. "You such a rebel." He faked a swoon. His back hit the counter in doing so and he jumped forward. I chuckled as I finished preparing dinner.
"Me? My parents brought it home." I handed him a fork. We stood at the fridge, trying to decide what to drink. If my mom were to walk in on us doing this she'd probably yell at us and say we were letting all the cold out.
"Where are your parents anyway?" Kurt finally decided on the pitcher of iced tea. I opened the cupboard to grab the cups. It seemed that all of the lower shelf cups were in the dishwasher. There were some on the top shelf that I could barely reach. I stood up on my tip toes to get them. My fingers graced the rim of the cup when I felt a familiar set of arms wrap around my waist. I was hoisted up, only for a second. The cups were much easier to grab now.
Kurt let my feet back on the floor again. I set the cups on the counter in front of me. He moved to retrieve the pitcher. I clasped his hand, making it momentarily impossible for him to escape. Kurt slipped free and got the iced tea. I felt my shoulders slump. Then his hand returned to my waist. I made an effort to stand straighter.
"They're in their office." I held the cup for him as her poured.
"They're doing work on a Friday?" He placed the pitcher on its rightful refrigerator shelf. We carried our meals back to my room.
"You could say that." I nudged my door open farther. "But I'll tell you one thing. They're not doing paperwork."
"Kinky." He managed to make the word have two syllables instead of one. We sat down on the bed, careful not to spill anything.
I looked down at the DVDs. Kurt had said that we were like Harry and Sally. Blaine hadn't seen the movie recently, but if his memory didn't fail him, didn't they have an awkward moment of their own? He knew Kurt had apologized and accepted his own apology. But there was one thing he didn't apologize for. Not yet anyway.
"I'm sorry you had to meet Biva." He swallowed what he was chewing and cocked his head to the side. He looked like an adorable little puppy dog.
"Excuse me?" He set his fork down.
"A Biva. Y'know Blaine plus diva. Biva." Nick had called me it once when we were studying for a math test. I couldn't figure out for the life of me how to do a problem and I started freaking out. At the time I wasn't sure what he was talking about. Then I thought about it. I mean, what else could it mean?
"Right." He picked up his fork again and stabbed at a cherry tomato with it. "So what exactly were you a Biva about?"
"I compared you to Karofsky. Which was completely wrong of me. You are in no way like that cretin. I was just angry." He wasn't saying anything. That may be due to the fact that he was still chewing. Kurt had the manners to not talk with his mouthful.
"Besides," I added leaning in, carefully to avoid getting my dinner all over the front of my shirt, "you have much better fashion sense."
His cheeks were tinged red. "I accept your apology. And I wasn't exactly in the position to tell you who you could or couldn't date. So I apologize for being a killer Karofsky."
"I like the sound of that." Then again, I also like the sound of our names together. Kurt. Blaine. If you say it fast enough, it sounds like dynamite. Kur-blaine! Okay, so it's some really messed up dynamite. But now every time I hear the word kerblam I'm going to think of him. Not that I don't think about him enough as it is.
We popped in When Harry Met Sally. Our dishes were set aside on the floor. He curled around me, propping his head up to see the movie over my shoulder. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He drew his eyes away from the screen when he caught me staring.
"What? You said you wanted to be the little spoon." Oh. So he hadn't forgotten that part of our conversation. At least he kept his promise.
The movie was over far too soon. I held up the second movie. We did have time for another. And if it got too late, Kurt could certainly spend the night. But first, I needed to go to the bathroom.
I returned to my room to find Kurt talking to my mom. She held the dirty dishes in her hand. There was a freshly open bag of Lays sitting next to him.
"Thanks Mrs. Anderson. I think I'm just going to let the chips drop where they may." Something was telling me they weren't talking about the sea salt and vinegar chips.
My mom turned and saw that I was standing in the doorway. "As long as it's not the carpet."
"Ready for Sleepless in Seattle?" I loaded the disc into the player. Kurt nodded and moved the chips to make room for me.
As the previews played Kurt coiled his legs around mine. He sighed and settled his head above mine. It was a perfectly romantic moment.
"I really liked your mother's bathrobe."
Then again, maybe not.