Last Ten

Reality TV Shows Watched

(prompted by Becca)

...

by padfoot

"Kurt, this is ridiculous. I mean, sure, I watch a bit of reality TV sometimes when I must. But I'm not going to sit here for a day when it's a lovely day outside and just watch-"

"I'll make lunch if you watch this," Kurt interrupted. Blaine stopped, halfway through a sentence, eyes narrowed. "And it will be a chicken salad and I'll do the spicy chicken that you love. And there will be croutons, baked and with the tiniest bit of oil so they they're crispy and healthy. Which means you can eat as many as you want and I no one will judge you."

Blaine's eyes were still narrowed.

"Keep talking," he advised.

Kurt smiled. "And we'll go outside in the afternoon. You can tell me about cloud shapes and types and colours and I'll 'ooh' and 'aah' and pretend to be interested. But really I'll be thinking you're a massive dork and be so, so glad that at least you're pretty."

"Hey!"

Now Kurt's grin was wide, and he flicked the TV on as he slid over to Blaine's side, chest pressed against the length of Blaine' arm as he leant in towards him.

"But you are very pretty," Kurt repeated.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Kurt, I am not this easy to convince! I have standards, you know. Deep-lying, fundamental, morally-sound- umph."

Blaine was cut off by Kurt's lips pressing against his as the opening music to his show trilled in the background.

And maybe, Blaine thought, this wasn't such a bad initiation to the realm of reality TV.

...

"Kurt, you convinced me to watch one show, and now that we've done that, I really think you should just be satisfied that I bent to your will and maybe this week we can actually go outside for a change instead of sitting around in here and- umph!"

With Kurt's persuasion, Blaine changed his mind. Because, sometimes, sitting around inside had some very definite benefits.

...

"I hope she falls over. I hope she falls over and breaks her ankle or her knee or maybe both knees..." Kurt trails off, still muttering under his breath, paying no heed to Blaine's startled expression.

"That seems a bit, uh... violent, don't you think?" Blaine asks. "I mean, she wasn't that mean-"

"She is a bitch, Blaine. No confidence in what she wears – just total arrogance. Total disrespect for the designers. And besides, I could wear most of the clothes she models better than she could."

Blaine opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it again, looking away, a blush staining his cheeks. Because there maybe might have been a little part of him that would so like to see Kurt in those figure-hugging leather pants and a barely-there swathe of material for a top.

...

Watching Kurt watch Project Runway was one of Blaine's favourite things to do. In the least creepy way possible.

"Oh, go for that one- no, no! The chiffon, not the silk- urgh! Well, what's she going to do with velvet, huh? I mean, Kimberley knows nothing about getting the drape right and the textures- God, Blaine, it's just so obvious, isn't it? How do they find it so difficult to-?"

And then he was off again, injecting questions here and there, which Blaine had worked out pretty quickly that thankfully he wasn't expected to answer.

It was just so... wonderful. To see Kurt in his element like this. The only other time he seemed so sure of himself, so comfortable with himself, was when he was singing – eyes closed, shutting out the world, voice ringing to drown out every bit of opposition, every ounce of hatred he'd ever encountered. It was beautiful.

...

"And welcome to reality TV fest 2012, where we will showcase the best and the worst of reality TV. So sit back, grab some popcorn and relax – these next few hours are going to be killers!"

Rachel stepped back from the centre of the room to join Mercedes and Kurt on the couch, everyone turning to look expectantly at the TV as, on the floor, Blaine pointed the remote and pressed power.

The first show was Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

It started bad.

It only got worse.

Blaine was leaning back away from the TV, his eyes fixed on it but narrowed to the extreme as he tried to block out the pictures. Mercedes was staring, her mouth agape, clearly horrified by what she saw. Rachel was busy eating popcorn from the bowl, searching for kernels at the bottom. Kurt stared resolutely at the carpet at his feet, trying to shut out the 6 year-old's shrill voice as she introduced her family.

"This is disgusting," Blaine said, when finally they were offered the mercy of an ad break.

"Seconded!" Mercedes called.

Kurt nodded, sliding off the couch to sit beside his boyfriend.

Rachel, only now looking up from her popcorn pursuits, raised her eyebrows questioningly, "What's wrong with it?"

Blaine shuddered where he sat, and Kurt wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Blaine's right," he said. "I like to indulge in a bit of escapism as much as the next person-"

"Maybe more than the next person," Mercedes interjected.

"-but this is just- it's not right. It's disgusting." Kurt finished.

"It's just TV," Rachel argued, "What harm does it do?"

"It makes it look like this is okay," Blaine spoke up, gesturing to the TV and shrugging out of Kurt's arms as he turned to face Rachel. "It's perpetuating this lifestyle, it's making it okay for parents to get their kids high on caffeine and dress them up like- like prostitutes , as long as they get a big trophy at the end. They gave a TV show to these people! They are rewarding these parents for making terrible choices about their children's lives. And us – we're having it sold to us, having it giving to us as entertainment. It's like these people are animals at a zoo and we're peering through the bars and laughing at them. It's awful, Rachel. Awful in an awful way, not in a so-bad-it's-goodway."

Rachel was silent for a few moments, and when the show came on again Blaine turned the TV off at the monitor with a decisive click.

"We move on," he said. "Or I'm leaving."

Rachel looked grumpily resigned, but there was a little shred of guilt behind her eyes.

"Fine," she conceded. "Next show."

...

"'Dance Moms'? Rachel, this doesn't sound any better than the last one."

"No, no, it is! These girls only work about as hard as I do. And they have a mother to encourage them, which can only be a good thing, right?"

Blaine, Kurt and Mercedes look sceptical.

They were about 5 minutes in when Kurt, still on the floor, muttered something in Blaine's ear. Blaine nodded and reached for the remote.

"Next?" he asked.

"Next," Rachel agreed.

...

"Now, this is my kind of reality TV," Kurt said, settling back against Blaine's chest. Blaine hummed in agreement, his gaze on the thin curve of Kurt's neck and the golden strands of his hair.

"What, Blaine, no objections?" Rachel asked, sounding more than a little put out.

Blaine shrugged. "As long as there's no uncomfortably under-dressed, make-up clad, crying children, I couldn't care less what we're watching."

"I don't think that hurts," Mercedes whispered, pointing to where Kurt's hand was tracing up and down Blaine's thigh.

Rachel pouted, flopping back into the couch with a frustrated huff.

...

"You're going to love this show – it's fantastic," Kurt promised, wriggling in Blaine's lap as he turned to face him.

Blaine bit his lip, not saying anything but simply nodding in reply.

Kurt turned back around, grinning widely. Too widely.

He'd insist to his dying that it was totally necessary for him to wedge himself back harder against Blaine. And if maybe his hands strayed too far up Blaine's thigh over the next half hour, well, so be it. It certainly convinced Rachel and Mercedes to excuse themselves and leave the house promptly once the TV show was over.

...

"American Idol?" Blaine asked. "Really?"

Kurt blushed. "It's not bad this season," he said defensively.

But he was lying. What 'wasn't bad' this season was the cute Texan with bright blue eyes and a smooth, even voice, crooning country ballads as he strummed his guitar. Not that Blaine had any strong objections.

...

"There's this new show..." Kurt began, trailing off with a wide-eyed, lip-biting, almost-begging look that he knew Blaine couldn't resist.

"Kurt," Blaine sighed, "You're leaving tomorrow. Can't we just have one night to you know, do- do our stuff. I'm going to miss that stuff."

Kurt's answering expression was one of mock horror.

"You're not going to miss watching reality TV with me?! But Blaine, you love Jersey Shore!"

Blaine chuckled, reaching out to pull Kurt closer to him, further away from the TV on Kurt's mantle.

"No," he corrected, leaning up until he mouth was inches from Kurt's. "I love you. And you love Jersey Shore."

He closed the distance between them and kissed Kurt softly, lingeringly, slipping his tongue out to tease at the seam of Kurt's lips before pulling back.

Kurt's expression was torn, and he glanced back over his shoulder at the TV when Blaine started to pull him closer. Blaine groaned, letting go of Kurt and flopping back onto the bed without him.

"What about a compromise?" Kurt offered, sliding further up the bed so he could look Blaine in the eyes. "I put on the TV show, and then we watch it from here. And if it's boring then you're absolutely allowed to distract me however you want. I promise."

Blaine's bottom lip was jutting out, but Kurt just poked at it with a finger, that begging look back on his face.

"Fine," Blaine said, drawing the word out.

Kurt grinned and leant down to kiss him quickly on the nose.

"Thank you!" he sung, skipping over to the TV. "You won't regret this, I promise!"

Blaine did end up regretting it. Kind of.

Because of course this viewing ended up much as they usually did. With Blaine sitting back, eyes feasting on the slip of skin visible at Kurt's shoulder, the shining strands of hair that had escaped from the mob at the back of his head. And Kurt – his eyes fastened on the television. Pretending not to notice that desperate pull, tugging at his heart and his body. The energy that made him gravitate towards the boy leaning just behind him, half-naked against the bed head. That made him glance back, his eyes meeting Blaine's in an age-old way – a way that made them both know that they couldn't look away.

"I'm never going to know how this episode finishes," Kurt whined.

Blaine didn't reply. He just laughed into the dip of Kurt's throat, before covering it in kisses.