I'm so stoked by the reviews you guys are giving me and the insane amount of people who have added this to their alerts. really though I love reviews and I would absolutely love it if you wanted to talk to me.
just something to think about.
but in the mean time, please enjoy this ridiculously early update. I am so inspired by this story and I can't stop, so hopefully I'll continue to update quickly.
also, I've only taken one year of French and three years of German so I apologize in advance if I totally butcher either of these languages.
Kurt was slightly stunned by the man that stood in front of him. A part of his mind told him that this had to be Mr. Anderson, but mostly he didn't want to accept that. This guy was too… hot to be a teacher here. He had dark, curly hair parted on the side, carelessly gelled to tame the style just slightly and Kurt could almost feel his fingers twitching to run his fingers through those gorgeous locks. The next thing Kurt noticed was the man's dorky wardrobe that he found oddly charming. He was wearing a gray button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, with a red sweater vest layered on top and a black checked bowtie wrapped around his neck. As the man walked towards him, Kurt also eyed his straight legged jeans appreciatively.
He held a half-eaten apple in one hand, gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in the other and balanced the strap of his expensive looking leather bag over his shoulder. When the handsome man reached the edge of the teacher's desk he set his coffee on top of it, and put his apple down next to it on a napkin he pulled from his pocket. He then proceeded to swipe his tongue over his index finger, presumably to rid it of excess juice. All the while, Kurt never took his eyes off him.
"You must be the new French teacher, oui?" The man's amber eyes met Kurt's turquoise ones and Kurt had to hold in a gasp at the man's sheer beauty. He had never seen irises of that shade before; he found himself mesmerized. But not to the point that he over looked his horrible French accent.
"Ah. Oui, je m'appelle Kurt Hummel. Et vous êtes?" (Yes, my name is Kurt Hummel. And you are?) Kurt asked in perfect French, a coy smirk on his face which the other man returned.
"Meine name ist Blaine Anderson. Ich bin der Deutsch Lehrer." (My name is Blaine Anderson. I'm the German teacher.) "It's nice to finally meet you." Blaine stuck his hand out for Kurt to shake but he only eyed it warily.
"You just licked those fingers." Kurt tried to keep his 'bitch-face' in check and managed to only glare jokingly at Blaine.
Blaine laughed, bright and open, "You're right. I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" He dug in the front pocket of his bag and after a moment of searching pulled out a prepackaged wetwipe which he proceeded to tear open and rub over his hands. "Want one?" He asked kindly and glanced at Kurt who nodded.
"Yes, please. Thank you," he took the little square when it was handed to him and casually began to wipe his hands. They stood side by side for a minute, cleansing their hands in a companionable, if not somewhat awkward silence, before they both spoke at once.
"So –"
"So –"
Their eyes met and they both laughed, Blaine snorting faintly at the end of each breath, which then sent Kurt into a new set of giggles. When his laughter settled Kurt felt a tad more at ease and took a seat on the teacher's desk.
"You go first." He waved at Blaine.
"No, no. You. Go ahead, I insist." He smiled politely. And Kurt's heart fluttered.
"I was just going to ask the basics. You know, where are you from, how old are you. Those kinds of things." Kurt flushed lightly and he wished he could kick himself for sounding and most likely looking so embarrassed. But Blaine either didn't notice, or he didn't care because he grinned and picked up his coffee and began to talk about himself.
"Well I'm from right here actually," he chuckled. "I'm a Dalton Academy alumni, in the flesh."
Kurt interrupted, stunned. "No way." This guy couldn't be that much older than him, and certainly not any younger. He thought back to his high school days at McKinley and the brief affair he had had with a Dalton boy, Seth that he had met at a glee club sectionals competition. He couldn't recall meeting a 'Warbler', as they called them, named Blaine.
"Yes way," Blaine continued smugly, "Class of 2009. You didn't go here did you?" His eyes glittered, curiously and Kurt had to look away before he started drooling or gaping and making a complete fool out of himself.
"Oh, no. I graduated from McKinley in Lima, class of 2012. I just da –"Shit. He couldn't tell this guy he dated one of the boys here. He would be breaking his only rule. "I was friends with a few of the guys in the glee club here. The Warblers is what they were called if I'm remembering correctly."
Blaine nodded, and smiled with a far off, nostalgic shimmer in his eyes. "Ah yes the Warblers. I was one myself when I was in school. Gosh, I can't believe that was over ten years ago…" he trailed off, with a slightly pained look on his face, then he sighed and looked back towards Kurt. "Sorry. What were your other questions, again?"
Kurt turned his hips on the desk to face Blaine more straight on and thought of a few more questions. "Well your age, but I guess you kind of just answered that one. Uhm… Where did you get your education? What is your favorite color? And do you have any pets?"
Blaine chortled and rested his hip against the desk, facing Kurt. Then he raised his left hand and began to count off his answers on his fingers, "I'm twenty-eight, will be twenty-nine in November. I went to the University of Boston. My favorite color is red, and I have a German shepherd named Liesl; after Liesl Von Trapp from the Sound of Music." He tapped each finger as he silently counted, as if he was making sure he didn't miss anything. "Now it's my turn."
At that moment, the classroom door swung open and a group of boys in school uniform waltzed in, chattering amongst themselves and paying no attention to the teachers at the front of the room. Kurt glanced down at his watch and noted that his class was to start in ten minutes.
"Looks like I'll have to ask you my questions at lunch, huh?" Blaine raised his remarkably triangular shaped eyebrows hopefully and nudged the younger man in the side with his elbow.
Kurt gaped for a second and then caught his breath and his ability to form sentences, "Sure. I don't have any other plans."
"Great. I'll see you here at eleven o'clock then." Blaine gathered his things from around the desk and with a wave to Kurt, strolled into his office and shut the door behind him with a click.