Ctrl-A-Delete, a Glee fiction
I do not own Glee. Thanks to my reviewers!
Dear Blaine,
Remember how during the Little Mermaid Sebastian was singing "Kiss the Girl" and we were all cuddled up on your couch even though it was a very long couch? It was so long to the point where I could stretch my feet out to their very tippy toes and have you do the same and we'd both fit. Now I know we're both considered short so I shouldn't freak too much over this. Two Finn's wouldn't have been able to fit. I probably couldn't even fit with Finn on here. But this couch is big enough to use as a bed.
Then when my phone vibrated against your thigh and you practically skyrocketed through the roof. Which I'd say I'm sorry for, but I've been told it's not nice to lie. Your reaction was near priceless. I say near, because when you jumped, I was entangled with you and also went flying. Had I been safely secured on the opposite side of the room with a high resolution camera, then it would have been perfect.
So, about that text. The one that I read over, replied and calmly slid my phone back into my pocket at. The other pocket mind you, so it wouldn't bug you if it went off again. I told you at the time it was no big deal. Well, I figure you have the right to know what got your feathers more ruffled than a turkey on thanksgiving.
It read: Wanna go to Breadstix tomorrow?
I replied: It's a date.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
During the process, it seemed completely sane. In every romantic comedy I've ever seen, which I assure you is more than enough, the girl always tears apart her closet looking for the perfect outfit. There's a montage of throwing hangers onto the bed, modeling every outfit in the mirror to discard it into the reject pile. Of course I did not do the latter, because I did not want to waste all of that time pealing my skinny jeans off my body. I did however form the pile, in my case mound. It did not occur to me that it'd all be sitting on my bed when I returned two hours later.
Thank goodness nothing was terribly wrinkled. I spent the rest of my evening repacking my closet. At that point, I started missing getting to wear what I want at school. They should have casual Fridays. Or at least Warblers should get new costumes so I can have some variety. Might I suggest a trip to Gap for some new costumes?
In case you're wondering, I ended wearing a lilac cashmere sweater and my butt hugging jeans. I figured if they worked on you, maybe they'd work on him.
I was right.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
When you told me that there were other gay guys at Dalton, I wasn't exactly keeping my track of who fell into what column. My gaydar was off once before when Sam was the new kid at school. McKinley I mean. His hair was so unnaturally blond. I still swear that he dyes it, no matter how much he wants to deny it. I can spot roots a mile away. Though if you have the right to hide your curls with unhumanly massive globs of hair gel, I suppose he has the right to hide his natural hair color.
I knew that you were gay, and that Wes and David weren't. You had told me that. (Unless Wes and David have some secret relationship they're trying to hide. They are awfully chummy.) I knew my room mate was straight when I walked on him Googling certain... images shall we say. That was an awkward first impression.
When we watched that educational video in gym class I figured out which side a lot of people belong on. I honestly don't get why we watched it, considering half of the gym class has probably already done it. And they didn't even discuss gay intercourse. This is when I discovered Theo was gay.
I can't believe I bonded with a potential boyfriend over hanky panky.
That could've sounded better.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
Theo and I actually met in the chemistry lab. I had been working on Le Chatlier's Principle when he interrupted the class to bring a note to the teacher. I didn't notice him at first. Though if a monkey wearing a tutu waltzed into the room, I wouldn't have known. I take my equilibrium very seriously. My lab teacher had been helping the student next to me balance an equation. So on his way, he accidentally bumped into my chair and apologized. Then he realized I was new. Well, newer anyway.
Him: Aren't you in my gym class? I'm Theodore by the way.
Me: Kurt Hummel. Would you prefer I call you Theodore or Theo? (in a lame attempt at humor) Or would Adore suit your fancy?
Him: Poppet, don't you think it's a bit early for love declarations?
Then he winked at me and I melted like a double dip of Pralines n' Cream on a hot summer day. Did I forget to mention he has a British accent? No I didn't, but he does. You probably inferred that from the whole poppet bit.
So when we started our tennis unit in gym, he asked me to be his partner. And we kicked some major balls. Tennis balls that is.
With all of this love (tennis) and adore (Theodore) and chemistry (okay this one is self explanatory if you have half a brain) he must've decided that he likes me enough to invite me on a date to Breadstix. I was tired of waiting for you. That's why I said yes. And you know something? I'm glad I did. Theo is a really great guy. He's an underwater photographer on weekends and he donates frequently to the Pajama Program. Oh, and he has a helix piercing. Normally I'd find pierced ears a total turn off, but I was pleasantly surprised when he showed me. He gave off this whole sensitive rebel vibe to me.
I'd still drop him for you in a heartbeat.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
Theo asked if I wanted to go on a double date. Would you like to go out with his friend this Sunday for lunch?
Constant vigilance,
Backspace
To sir with love,
Backspace
nananananananana...
Kurt-man!
(P.S. I know I'm a dork, but Theo and I were talking about our favorite superheroes. Can you believe his is Buzz Lightyear?)