Batteries, a Glee fiction
I do not own Glee. Remember to review!
Looking back, it probably wasn't the best idea to eat spicy prawns before bed last night. Normally I'm good with spicy food, but somebody didn't follow the recipe. Rather than the recommended dash of Tabasco, it was as if half the bottle was poured in. It made my eyes water. I swear, it was just the Tabasco sauce and not the movie that was playing in the background.
Toy Story does not make me cry.
But apparently spicy food and Toy Story does make me have nightmares.
I'm cleaning my room with my earbuds in my ears. I'm shaking my hips as I rearrange the dust to the musical stylings of Cee Lo. I lift a picture frame and study the picture inside. There I am with Kurt, my arms wrapped around him as he clutches onto a playbill from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.
While I'm absorbed in his smile, his being Kurt's and not Daniel Radcliffe's, I fail to notice that I am not alone. Two ridiculously tall characters approach from behind. My music is too loud to hear the tapping of space boots and spurs along the floor. A finger taps me on the shoulder.
I pull out my earbuds and turn around. Nobody is there. I turn back around.
"Boo." I jump about a foot in the air. I realized later that even when I jumped I still managed to be shorter than my predators. Predators being Woody and Buzz from Toy Story, who are bowled over laughing at me.
I failed to find the humor in this.
Through gasps for air they make fun of my reaction. They don't accomplish much and leave me alone.
My dilated pupils shrink back to their normal size. Placing my earbuds back in my ears I finish cleaning my room.
I enter the kitchen looking for some lunch. Nobody is home and I decide to make a turkey sandwich. I'm spreading on my condiments when a voice appears at my side.
"Can my sandwich have pickles on it?" I spin around to find no one there. I'm starting to feel paranoid. I return to my sandwich to find Woody already half through with it.
"You're right Buzz. Definitely needed pickles." I point my knife at them, trying to defend myself. Good job Blaine. Go and defend yourself with a butter knife. That'll really protect you.
"Aw, you frightened him. Now he won't make us more sandwiches." Sure, they can frighten me when I'm cleaning, but when there's food involved they play nice. And to make matters worse, I'm out of pickles.
Buzz walks away not frightened and sticks his head in my fridge. "Any pickles in there?" Woody calls over my shoulder.
"Negative." He opens the freezer. "But I have found ice cream sandwiches."
He pulls two out of the package and passes one too Woody. "Oh I do look sandwiches. Especially of the ice cream variety."
Maybe if I fold myself up small enough I can fit in the freezer and defrost when these two leave.
They make a mess of themselves and leave to wash themselves up.
I'm making a new sandwich when I hear footsteps coming from behind. I promise myself this time I will not jump or use a utensil as a weapon.
I did not however promise myself not to let out a girly scream when a very determined looking Woody and Buzz approach me with waxing strips aimed at my face.
"Blaine, we're here to help. Those triangles have got to go." Buzz pushes my back against the counter.
"Two triangles make a square Blaine. And I don't think Kurt wants to date a square." My heart sinks. I'm not sure why. I mean, I told him I love you and he said it back. And I know he meant it, because he paused. It wasn't one of those automatic responses where you're saying it just because I did. Plus, he said he was having a pretty good year, and we've known each other for a while now. Which explains why my year has been pretty good too.
Then all of a sudden he karate chops Woody and Buzz for me and my eyebrows and I breath a sigh of relief.
Actually, it was at that point I woke up. He received a call five minutes later asking to meet for coffee before school.
He giggled at me as I retold my story over medium drips.
"See this is what happens when you watch too much Disney. You start thinking everyone around you is a toy." Kurt grabbed my hand from across the table and ran his thumb along the course of my thumb and forefinger.
"You're not a toy, are you?" I teased.
"How about you come over tonight and search me for my battery pack?" Kurt coyly smiled, getting up to leave. I followed behind, walking to the parking lot. I stood back a few steps to admire that extra spring in his step.
When did baby penguins become so hot?