"Monsieur Hummel, que fais-tu?" Wes glanced up from his work to Monsieur Barkley, who was currently standing above Kurt's desk, peering down at him.
He sat up. This could be interesting. Kurt Hummel, in trouble during French class.
Kurt handed him a piece of paper Wes suspected he had been doodling on, explaining quickly, "Je dessine les fauvettes sous forme d'oiseau approprié."
Wes only immediately recognized the word for "draw" (Kurt was fluent, a fact that had made him want to cry when he had heard it). This made him rather suspicious, of course, when Monsieur Barkley glanced down at the paper, looked over at Wes, and proceeded to study the paper again with a slight tilt of the lips.
"As-tu fini ton travail?" He questioned.
Kurt nodded. "Oui."
"Bon. C'est un bon dessin, Monsieur Hummel." He moved on to the next student.
Wes felt his jaw drop. What the hell was on that paper?
French class soon came to an end, thank God. Wes hurried over to Kurt's desk(at the front of the room, next to Flint's, since Blaine refused to sit in the front).
"Oh, hey Wes," the countertenor greeted him, stuffing his book in his bag hastily. "How'd that geography test go earlier?"
He felt his fingers clench because, of course, Kurt would ask him that. "Not well, if you can believe it. I imagined it must have had something to do with the banshee in my room shrieking while I tried to study."
Kurt actually looked concerned. "A banshee, really? Sounds quite horrible."
"It was."
Pregnant pause. Then-
"So, Wes, did you actually want to say something, or are you just delaying me out of spite?"
Wes would have choked at such an accusation had he been eating/drinking something at the time. Please. As if he would sink so low, be so petty.
"No, actually, I was merely wondering what that paper was that you showed Monsieur Barkley earlier."
The corners of Kurt's mouth curled up to form a cute smile.
No, he is not cute. He is evil and diabolical. Do not let his adorable, angelic face take you off guard.
Kurt was rifling through his bag, muttering under his breath before finally pulling the long-awaited paper out.
"I was doodling the Warblers in their avian forms."
Indeed, their they were. Detailed sketches of birds, each one neatly labelled with their respective Warbler counterpart.
Blaine was a canary, David an owl(so fitting), Thad a hummingbird(he snorted at that), Nick a parrot, Jeff a woodpecker(so true), Flint a stork, and so on.
Kurt was watching his reactions with a pleased expression until he came across his own likeness.
A hawk. A glaring, fierce looking hawk that actually had a dead mouse dangling out of its beak.
There was that headache, again.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Kurt mumbled, dropping his eyes.
He didn't say a word; he just dropped the paper on the desk, turned, and walked out.
"Wes!" The sudden slap of running feet behind him brought him to a stop.
"I never did," he gasped, doubling over,"thank you for the Diet Coke."
"You're welcome."
Kurt met his eyes, stepping forward.
Too close. Way, way too close for comfort.
"No, really, Wes," He edged closer. "Thank you."
Wes could feel his skin growing hot. Step back, Hummel, step back.
He didn't, of course. Rather, he closed the distance between them, hugging Wes firmly.
"Please stop." Wes said.
He did, amazingly enough. He moved away, looking flustered.
Awkward silence for several seconds.
I'll- I'll be seeing you then, Wes," and he watched as Kurt rushed off, the back of his neck flushed pink.
What the hell just happened?
Then he noticed the time and cursed aloud.
"Sooo."Wes was just walking along to class, not disturbing anyone, when Jeff and Nick took the liberty to surround him on either side. He could already feel a headache building at the mere presence of the two.
"Sooo." Nick repeated, chortling at Wes' answering glower.
"...Yes?" He drew out slowly, scowling at the both of them.
"We may or may not have heard-"
"From a little birdie-"
"That you've been recently found to be-"
"Getting your cuddle one-"
"With Kurtie pie!" They chorused, grinning at each other. He snorted at this.
"Kurtie pie? You do realize Kurt would more than likely disembowel you in your sleep if he heard you call him that?"
Too late it occurred to him that that was all the confirmation they need. They beamed, each tossing an arm around him, Nick's around his shoulders, Jeff's on his waist.
"It's so...refreshing, Wes, to know you've finally begun to accept your inner gay. It means-" a smile broke out across Nick's face, "it means, we can finally embarrass you publicly without any fear of you going off at us in a rant of poorly hidden denial and a rather pitiful attempt to brush off feelings that have quite obviously been plaguing you for a long, long time."
Kurt. Kurt had done this, what with his irritating overly cuddly and affectionate ways. He had inflicted upon Wes all of Jeff and Nick's unrestrained attention, which had only before been held back by sheer intimidation.
And the gavel.
He unsuccessfully attempted to shake the pair off. People were gawking, for God's sake, and the last thing he needed were rumors of him involved in a threesome.
The idea alone caused him to shiver in horror. He spoke icily at the two.
"One: I am not gay. I'm perfectly straight, thank you very much."
"Bisexual, then," Jeff responded cheerily.
"And two," he went on, ignoring them, " I was not cuddling with him. Kurt decided to bodily assault me, for whatever reason, and Blaine and David chose that moment to walk in." He felt a small twinge at the lie in the sentence, but he certainly wasn't going to admit he'd gone all the way out to the supermarket just to get Diet Coke for Kurt. Even if it had been more for Wes' own sanity than his.
Nick gave him a cheeky look. "Quite sure that you weren't enjoying it there, dear Wesley? Didn't reciprocate even the slightest?"
He rubbed at his temples, trying to relieve the throbbing in his head.
'No."
Jeff and Nick raised their their eyebrows at him simultaneously.
Okay, that was just plain creepy.
"Look, can you just leave me alone for a bit?" He asked stiffly, breaking out of their grasp. "I need to get to Calculas."
"Gladly! And just remember, Wes..." Nick paused.
"We're always here for you, if you ever need some help. Sexuality is a confusing thing, and don't hesitate to come to us if you begin to doubt yours in the least."
He flared his eyes open, staring them down.
"Go."
They went. He groaned aloud, glancing at his watch. Two minutes to get to class. At least if he failed Calculas, he would have someone to point to.
Fail whale ending to the chapter.
Blah. I know, I promised some Blaine action here, but... it just wouldn't work. So I gave you Jeff and Nick instead!
The French:Many thanks to punkballet, who helped me correct the French in this.
Monsieur Hummel, que fais-tu?: Mister Hummel, what are you doing?
Je dessine les fauvettes sous forme d'oiseau approprié.": I was drawing the Warblers in proper bird form.
As-tu fini ton travail: Have you finished your work?
Oui: Yes.
Bon. C'est un bon dessin, Monsieur Hummel: Good. Very impressive drawing skills, Mr. Hummel.
The plot is thickening! Yayz! (Kind of).
Glee is NOT MINE.
Review, please!
-Mel