~VioletCherry342~
If Kurt didn't care so much about it, he would've tore out large clumps of his hair in frustration and be half-bald by now. Good Gaga, why French? Why didn't he need help in Math? Or Chemistry? Why, David, why?
"Okay," Kurt said, repeating the question, again, "C'est un...?"
David narrowed his eyes. "You know, it doesn't matter how many times you point to that thing, it's still a lamp."
"Lampe!" Kurt corrected, sighing. "L-A-M-P-E. Lampe."
David at least repeated the word this time. To be honest, he'd figured it out a long time ago, he just liked watching Fancy get his panties in a bunch. And oh hell yes he was a tangled mess right now.
"Ceci est désespérée," Kurt heaved, falling back on David's bed, his fists digging into his eyes. Dave couldn't help but look him over, he'd only fantasized about that sight since they kissed, but he'd be damned if he let Kurt find that out. But dammit, the curve of his stomach and that oh-so-evil bit of skin that peaked its way out from his shirt lifting up when he fell, his very defined hipbones also sneaking their way past those puny skinny jeans, it wall all very distracting. Thankfully, Kurt growled and jumped up, getting David's attention back on his 'I am going to drive you freakin' insane by the time this is over' scheme.
"C'est un?" Kurt asked again, grabbing the rim of his hat and tugging it down slightly. Now, David knew very well this was a Chapeau, but, just to piss him off...
"Etage?"
Kurt growled and David smirked as he said, "No, but I am going to nail your foot to the 'étage' here pretty soon." And he really didn't care how poor his grammar just became.
"Do not put that hat anywhere near my foot," David said, and he snorted when Kurt huffed. "Should we change the subject?"
"Oui," Kurt said. "Before I murder you."
David smirked as Kurt stood, scooping up the text books and moving to set them on the desk, and the larger boy commented, "You walk like a girl, you know."
Kurt scowled and shot an icy glare in David's direction. "I do not."
"You do too," David said. "You walk like a cheerleader; guys don't walk like that."
Kurt crossed his arms and leaned his weight on one foot, causing his hip to cock to the side, his bitch-glare trained on David. "Fine then, how do guys walk?"
"One foot next to the other," David instructed.
"That's how I walk," Kurt protested.
"No, you walk like someone on Project Runway. The only time men walk like that is when a cop asks us to walk a straight line from one car to the next."
Kurt grumbled.
"Look, do you want to keep Blaine interested, or not?" He asked. God, this was stupid. Kurt was amazing (not really..stop thinking, David), he didn't need to change a thing, and yet, Blaine wasn't interested. And this fancy little prick was willing to bend over backwards and do several backflips just to keep Blaine in the same bed. In David's opinion? If the hobbit couldn't see he was never getting any better, that was his loss.
And yet, David said nothing.
Kurt sighed, quite heavily, and attempted to do as David said. Never had he had a problem with walking in his heals, ever, and now his ankles were wobbling like a premature foal, and he found himself lifting his hands up to give himself some sort of balance.
But he stopped when David started laughing.
"What now?"
"Did I tell you to walk like someone just banged your brains out?" He said in an amused tone, and he just laughed harder when Kurt blushed. Kurt didn't say anything this time and David stood up, turning Kurt around and lying his hands over Kurt's hips. Kurt's blush deepened, and David tapped his toe against the back of Kurt's foot, saying, "Now walk."
Kurt swallowed and took a step forward, letting David lead him, but when one of his steps was too short in comparison to David's long strides, he stumbled and had to grasp the door handle to keep himself standing. David chuckled.
"Okay, you know what?" Kurt said. "Come on."
"What?"
"Just come," Kurt said, snatching David's keys off his desk.
David, curious, lifted a brow. He almost dragged Kurt back into the room, but the look of determination on the smaller boys face told him it was a bad idea. And so, he followed Kurt out.
...oOo...
"What size shoe do you wear?" Kurt asked.
"Ten?" David replied warily.
Kurt glanced down at the other boys sneakers, just now realizing the difference in their feet. He also noticed how ragged his sneakers were; they looked like they had gone through a minefield. Kurt made a mental note to invest in a new pair of size 10 Nikes.
"Okay, sit here," Kurt said, gesturing to a bench in a labyrinth full of clothes. The mall. Kurt had dragged him to the freakin' mall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in this place, save to buy his mother or little sister a birthday present, and frankly he didn't like it here. The only place he would hide is in the walkway between the big stores, or the food court. Yeah, he likes food, mmkay? He's a guy.
Fifteen minutes later, Kurt reappeared, shoving a box into David's lap. Dave glanced at it as Kurt crossed his arms, waiting. David finally gave in and took the top off, moving the tissue paper away to see Kurt's shoes, only larger. David cocked a brow and looked up at Kurt with a question in his eyes.
"Put them on," Kurt said. "Show me how to walk like a 'guy' in those shoes and I'll stop bitching."
"You've got to be shitting me," David said.
Kurt shook his head, tapping his foot, waiting.
If it had been any other time of day, anywhere else, he would've laughed at Kurt and possibly told him to stick it up his ass. But no, he toed off his shoes and slid into the boots, tugging the zipper up around his calf. It felt like he was in an ankle brace, but he stood up anyhow.
"You are so overdramatic," David said smugly. "This is just as easy as - Fuck!"
Kurt's eyes widened as he watched David fall flat on his face mid-sentence, groaning. Kurt stared for a moment before he burst into giggles, clamping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to smother them. David glowered and pulled himself up, shooting a death-glare at Kurt, but that didn't stop the titters that erupted from his chest.
David growled, and attempted to walk forward again. How in the hell did Kurt stand in these things at all? And hell, these were just lifted shoes. He suddenly felt much more respect for women (or men) who walked in the shoes three inches taller than these, when the heel was only as think as a number two pencil.
After about a half an hour, David had figured it out. His feet were practically wailing in agony, and he was praying Kurt was still driving them home, but he sat down on the bench and leaned over, sliding the zipper down with a relieved sigh. "I could kill you for this, Hummel."
He panicked the minute the words left his mouth, but Kurt was too busy smirking and snickering to take him at all seriously. He retorted playfully, "Yes, but then, how would you get your French finals done?"
David rolled his eyes, slipping his feet back into his oh-so-comfortable sneakers, practically purring contentedly. "Can we please go home?"
Kurt nodded and stood up, looking at Dave. "So you think you can teach me how to walk now?"
"Fancy," David said, "you will be sauntering before you know it."
Bwahaha I am so mean. David is gonna ice his feet, you just KNOW it. Hahahahaha. I love my inner-Kurt, telling me to torment the poor boy. x] Mind you, both Kurt's love 'em some David Karofsky. Hehehe. Anyvay...
Kurt and Santana made me cry this epi :( Seriously! My boy looked like he was scared to death, and he had an EPIC point, and poor Santana! I admit she's been kind of mean but...oh jeez. I'm so scared for her :(
My poor translations. Feel free to correct me:
C'est un...?
This is a...?
Lampe
Lamp
Ceci est désespérée...
This is hopeless...
Chapeau
Hat
Etage / étage
Floor
Oui
Yes
