Chapter 6: Deeply Continental Kurt

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of it's characters.

(I'm just borrowing them)


My hand is poised to knock on Kurt's door. He was finally caught up on school work, and while I enjoyed the closeness when he fell asleep on me, I was glad that he no longer felt overwhelmed. I know that the other guys (yes, other guys… okay me… but other guys too) missed how adorable it was when he just snuggled up, but he still did it to the person next to him on movie nights.

Guess where I sit on movie night.

Guess what night it is.

I digress.

Anyway.

I am currently standing, frozen in place like some dapper wax figure because there are voices coming from Kurt's room.

Two very different voices.

Voices speaking French.

Now, I know that Kurt is fluent in French (his Cheerio routine is marked as a favorite on my computer) but hearing him speak it live was something else entirely. His voice was light and melodic, gently flowing over the language that I had no idea how to speak. (I'm a Latin man myself)

I could listen to him all day.

It was the other voice that gave me pause. Deep, sensual, rumbling responses to whatever Kurt was saying.

I shivered.

Who did Kurt have in his room?

I lowered my hand and pressed my ear to the door.

(The concerned friend in me weighing in over the stalker. Totally justifying my behavior… but just barely)

Kurt was still speaking to the mystery man. (I wished I could understand the conversation) A steady flow of back and forth in beautiful, lyric French.

Who was Kurt talking to?

He sounded like a native speaking the language, but I didn't remember any transfers from France. Kurt had been bi-lingual almost since birth. His mother had taught him and he kept it up to feel close to her. (I still remember the tears in his eyes that he wouldn't let fall when we had that conversation)

The sound of Kurt's laughter breaks my musing and I focus again on my conundrum.

Kurt was still recovering from McKinley, and absolutely did not need some swarthy French crooner coming on to him. Kurt was too trusting. He wouldn't see the deep rumblings of Pierre as inappropriate. Kurt would be nice and let him get close. Maybe try to comfort him when Francois said he was homesick. Kurt would hold him gently, and then Luc the lothario would make his move.

No!

I was knocking loudly before I realized what I was doing.

I heard Kurt make an "eep" noise as papers rustled and his bed made a squeaking noise.

I literally saw red.

(And here I thought that was only just an expression)

It took far too long for Kurt to open the door. When he did , I took in his flushed appearance and he seemed to be out of breath. He was also blocking his door and my view of his room.

"Blaine!"

(He sounded nervous… why did he sound nervous?)

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well it is movie night, and I do believe that it's your turn to pick the movie."

"Wonderful! Let's go."

He started to shut his door and I knew I couldn't leave without seeing Mr. Beret. I had to think quickly.

"Wait a sec, I think I dropped my sunglasses in your room the last time I was in there. Can I take a quick look around?"

I don't really wait for a response as I move past Kurt and into his room. I hear him protest weakly but he doesn't stop me. I quickly scanned the room. It was messy (that was weird) with a pile of clothes on the bed and books and notepaper scattered on the bed and desk.

It was, however, empty.

Where could he be hiding.

Kurt followed and was trying to hurry me out. He seemed very nervous.

As I finally allowed Kurt to drag me out, I noticed that the bathroom door was ajar.

He must have hid in there.

Kurt shut the door behind him and linked his arm through mine to propel me forward towards the common room. He seemed intent on leaving his room behind and I had no idea how to bring up the subject of his visitor.

He was with me now.

I tried to enjoy movie night and Kurt falling asleep on me.

I tried not to think about the deep voice.

I tried not to think about some French exchange student, taking advantage of Kurt.

I sighed as Kurt cuddled close. My cheek resting on his head.

Okay, maybe I could not think about it for now and just enjoy the moment.

I'll worry about it tomorrow.

The only problem with worrying about it tomorrow is that tomorrow turns into today.

And today it was happening again.

And really, the day had started out so well.

My morning classes went by in a cool breeze of interesting lectures and A's and B's on returned tests and papers.

The lunch room had "Greek day" and had served all my favorites.

(Yum!)

My afternoon classes went just like the morning ones.

Warbler's practice was focused on Sectionals, but everyone was spot on.

(Even "I Love to Use My Gavel - Wes" had said we all did a great job)

So, a really good day.

I should have known that the other shoe would drop.

At the end of rehearsal, Kurt had asked for a moment of the council's time. Which was the right and proper way to either ask the council a question or make a suggestion. (yeah, I know)

They agreed, so Kurt remained behind after practice.

I, on the other hand, had homework to catch up on, so I headed to the library to work.

Now, I have mentioned in passing the Dalton library, but really it's an awesome place. It always makes me think of Hogwarts with it's tall bookshelves teeming with books on every subject. There are even rumors of secret passages. I don't know if that's true or not, but I don't think there's any harm in looking.

Three years looking and still no luck.

I was just about done when a back pack appeared in my peripheral vision. The scent of sandalwood, cinnamon, leather and something else wafted past my nose and I felt Kurt sit next to me and open a book. I looked over at him and smiled. He had his French text out and was writing in a notebook.

When he finished, I could see him going over it. His mouth moved as the read it silently to himself.

Oh so adorable.

"What are you working on?"

His eyes turn to me as he puts his notebook down. A long sigh precedes his response.

"I have a project that I just want to be perfect."

"I didn't know there was a project due?"He arches one of his perfect eyebrows at me and tilts his head in question.

"And how do you know what the French class assignments are Mr. Latin AP?"

I can feel myself blush under his gaze, but my answer isn't even remotely guilty.

"Jeff is in your class and his room is right across from mine. Any time he has any big projects, he plays Beethoven's 5th on repeat. My evenings have been Beethoven free for the past four weeks, so I ask again Mr. French, what are you working on?"

Kurt laughed, a sound that resembled wind chimes in a summer breeze, and blushed. The blush was always an interesting occurrence. At McKinley, he had to keep the image of being "put together" all the time. Here he feels safe enough to show a broader range of emotions. Here, he feels safe.

Not to mention when he blushes, I get butterflies. Or when he smiles. Or when her laughs.

I digress.

Kurt.

Focus on Kurt.

(Like that's a hard thing to do)

Kurt with his bright eyes and perfect skin. Kurt with his soft hair and extensive wardrobe. Kurt who is now frowning at me with his kissable… wait… frowning?

Back track brain, what did we miss?

Oh yeah. I asked Kurt a question and totally spaced when he was answering it.

Oops.

A buzzing sound came from Kurt's bag and Kurt pulled his phone out and looked at the screen. His eyes lit up and he excused himself with a quick "Be right back, I have to take this." He made his way quickly out the door and answered his phone with a "I'm so glad you called."

I heard Kurt laugh as the door shut and usually that is my favorite sound, but it didn't give me butterflies like normal. The door shut and all I could think about was who was on the line. It was probably "him". This was crazy, Kurt was my friend. Just my friend. I should be happy that there was someone he was interested in. If Kurt wanted to spend time with the French kid, I should support him too. Even if he might go on dates... Or hold hands... Or kiss...

I heard a snap. I looked down to find I snapped the pencil I was holding.

Okay, so I guess that I was not okay with this.

I waited for twenty minutes, but Kurt didn't return. I packed up my things and then started to collect his work as well. His French project was still out on the table. There was a set of alternating lines. One in print and one in cursive. It looked to be a conversation. Well, at least I knew how the interloper got his foot in the door with Kurt. They were working on a project together.

I packed all of his things into his bag and went up to his room.

I rested my forehead on the door and sighed. I could hear the voice again. He was in Kurt's room and then Kurt's laugh rang out. He was in Kurt's room and he was making Kurt laugh.

I heard Kurt say, "Just a minute" and then I was falling forward.

I caught myself as Kurt opened the door wide. He saw me and smiled. A bright big smile. I couldn't help but smile back as he waved me into his room. Apparently, I had "rested" my head a little harder against the door than I thought and knocked.

I looked around for the other voice, but the rooms seemed to be empty. It also looked like Kurt had straitened it up again. Kurt saw his bag and made a "gimmie" motion. I smiled again and debated making him work for it, but he was too quick and snatched it from my hands. He was still on the phone.

"Good news Dad," (Oh thank goodness) "Blaine brought my stuff up from the Library."

He pulled out his French notebook and opened it up to the conversation project.

I took a seat on his bed and looked around again. I had almost forgotten about the other person (John-Luc-Pierre). The strangest thing was that there didn't seem to be anyone else in the room. The bathroom door was opened, but appeared empty. There was only one place left and I felt a little silly, but I leaned over to look under the bed.

Then I heard him. I sat up so quickly that the resulting head rush made me see spots. I shook my head and looked around. It was still just Kurt in the room. He had his back to me and turned so that he could sit at his desk. He was reading from the notebook to his dad.

He was reading both sides of the conversation.

He was…

His voice…

Both voices…

His voice…

Oh my goodness.

That deep rumbling voice that I feared would seduce Kurt (away from me) was Kurt?

I spared a moment to worry that I was spending way too much time thinking about Kurt in non-friendly ways. And spending even more time trying not to think about that.

My Kurt file was growing.

Oh my goodness indeed.


AN: Okay, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and added this to their updates/favorites. As always, I appreciate it. The reviews feed my inner muse. That being said. This chapter kicked my butt. My writer's block had writer's block. Between that and work, this chapter was a bit more delayed that I had anticipated. But not to worry. I'm half way done with the next chapter! Stay tuned for more Klaine - y goodness.