Burnt Food, Broken Cars and Bad Jokes
Nov. 15th, 2010 12:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Burnt Food, Broken Cars and Bad Jokes
Author:
fleurdelisee
Word Count: ~ 2,500
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Blaine/Kurt
POV: 3rd, Kurt-centric.
Summary: For some reason, the universe didn’t want Kurt to have a quiet date.
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed, for the existence of Blaine.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.
Beta:
xiexiegirl
Author Notes: I am so inspired it’s almost creepy. Three cheers for finding my muse again after six months of writer’s block. I’ll save you some googling in case you are like me and don’t know cars at all (thanks for the help,
xiexiegirl) and tell you that this is the car I’m talking about.
Kurt was exhausted and it wasn’t even six in the afternoon. He had spent his entire Saturday cleaning the house. It wasn’t unkempt as per say but if there was one day in the year when it needed to be picture perfect, it was that day. The only room he did not dare enter was Finn’s. There were battles he knew were lost before he started them. Besides, Finn would probably have another explosion if he knew Kurt had entered his room to reorganise it.
He was cooking a rather complex dish for dinner (he had to go to a specialised groceries store outside of town to find half of the ingredients) when the first catastrophe of the day happened.
The front door opened with a bang and several loud voices covered Kurt’s Wicked soundtrack.
“Dude, what’s that smell?”
Kurt frowned and sighed loudly. Quickly making sure he could leave the stove without anything going up in flames, he stepped in the living room with a stern look. Finn, Puck and Sam had already managed to ruin the cleaning he had done. The cushions were askew, their coats were lying around the room and there were already crumbs of chips on the floor.
“Hi Kurt,” Sam said as Finn tossed him a controller.
He nodded curtly at him, still glaring at Finn.
“Weren’t you supposed to spend the day at Sam’s?” Kurt asked coldly.
“Yeah but his Xbox broke and Puck doesn’t have one,” Finn said without looking away from the television screen. “Seriously, though, what’s that smell?”
“I’m cooking. Could you please—” Kurt began when Puck put his dirty shoe on the coffee table. Puck pointedly ignored him.
“I hope you didn’t plan any for me because I’m not eating something that smells like this.”
“No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. You and your little friends will have to go eat out.”
“We’ll just order pizza, no problem.”
Kurt stared at the three guys for a long time. He was trying to think of a way to tell them to get the hell out of the house without telling them why he needed them away – preferably more than ten miles away.
“Or are you having a date here tonight and we’re cockblocking you?” Puck let out with a chuckle and a self-satisfied grin.
Kurt must have made a telltale face against his will because the three Neanderthals high-fived each other with idiotic laughs. Clenching his fists, he was about to snap some insult about them and the evolution theory when the second catastrophe of the day appeared in the form of Burt and Carole.
“Dad?!” Kurt squeaked before he could stop it.
“Can you believe it? I wrote down the wrong date. You should have seen the maitre d’s face when we showed up,” Burt said lightly, greeting the three guys before sitting down with them to ask about their game and steal chips.
“What’s that smell?” Carole asked, scrunching her nose.
“I’m cooking, okay! That’s Portobello mushrooms!” Kurt was about to smack someone.
“I know the smell of Portobello mushrooms but that—that’s the smell of burning food, Kurt.”
Horrified, Kurt rushed to the kitchen but it was too late. The third catastrophe of the day had happened and the dinner was ruined.
He sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. In half an hour, everything he had spent a week carefully planning had met a dramatic death and Blaine wasn’t even there yet.
Speaking of Blaine, Kurt had a weird foreshadowing moment and reached for his phone, suddenly panicking that something else would go wrong. He clutched it in his hand.
“Hey, don’t look so upset,” Carole said softly, putting her hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m sure it was going to be delicious. You can try it again another time. I’ll help you, if you want.”
Kurt shrugged and thanked her, trying not to look too sad. He knew that he would eventually have to tell everyone that at any moment now, a boy was going to ring at the door expecting to have a quiet date, not a house full of loud, nosey people. Also, the presence of his father put a definite halt to his plan of making out with Blaine for hours.
He was trying to come up with the best way to tell everyone to get the fuck out without looking suspicious when his phone started vibrating in his hand. Kurt’s heart sank when he saw Blaine’s name on his screen.
“Hello?” he said hesitantly, as if answering slowly might lessen the catastrophe about to happen.
”Hey, Kurt. I’m going to be late. My car broke down on the way here and I’m waiting for the towing company. I’m really sorry. Do you still want me to come over? I’ll take me another three hours to get here, easily.”
“Yes, yes, of course!” Kurt was thinking at a hundred miles an hour. “I—cancel the tow… my dad has a garage. We’ll come pick you up.”
”Are you sure he won’t mind? I don’t want to be any worry for him. I can deal on my own; it’s not the first time it breaks.”
“Yeah, just cancel them and we’ll be there soon.”
”Cool. I’ll text you where I am. Thanks, Kurt. I can’t wait to see you.” Blaine’s voice had gotten softer and warmer on the last sentence and Kurt could guess the smile in his voice.
Kurt smiled widely and felt his cheeks burning. He might also have swooned but he would go to his grave saying he hadn’t.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the living room to actually ask his dad if it was okay with him. He was ready to bargain months of chores if he had to.
“Dad…? Sorry to interrupt you while you’re playing…” Kurt stared at the television in disbelief. “… Grand Theft Auto. My—my friend’s car broke down as he was on his way here and I offered to go pick him up… if you don’t mind?”
He watched his father glancing at Carole, saw the meaningful nod she gave him and then his father’s eyes were on him and understanding dawned on the man’s face.
“Yes, of course, let’s go.”
They were silent for ten minutes. That’s how long in silence his dad usually tolerated.
“So. This friend. Is that why you looked so upset you ruined your meal and that we were there?”
Kurt shrugged and looked out the window, very uneasy. He knew this conversation would come up but it didn’t mean he anticipated it.
“It’s okay, you know. I figured that one day you would—I mean. You’re a very kind person and—you’re good-looking – you got that from your mom, obviously – and I knew that one day you would—you know.” He flailed his hand vaguely and resolutely stared at the road.
“Dad,” Kurt said, slowly agonising from embarrassment.
“No, it’s okay, Kurt. Don’t be ashamed. So, the guy we’re picking up, he’s your boyfriend?”
The word hung between them for a beat.
“Dad!” When his father said nothing, Kurt sighed. “I don’t know. Probably. I guess. I don’t know.”
“Well, I hope it works out for you. You look happier lately. You deserve it. And this is as much as I will say on the matter because it makes me as uneasy as it makes you.”
The rest of the drive was in complete silence, the only sound the John Mellencamp record his father had put on.
“Is that him?”
Kurt squinted at the person in the distance and immediately recognised the old-Hollywood-ish comb-over and the small figure of Blaine.
“Yeah, it is.”
Blaine waved at them with his signature smile and Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. He was leaning against his car, looking absolutely stunning in the setting sun and Kurt was so in love it was bordering on neurotic. His father gave him a sideways glance and shook his head with a smile. Kurt had once again blushed, apparently. This was becoming an issue.
“Oh, look at her!” Burt said as he got out of the towing truck and walked towards Blaine’s car. “A ’69 Camaro! I always preferred them in black, good taste, kid. I haven’t seen one in such good state in years! Nice car, son.”
He stroked the car a few times before he remembered that there was someone standing next to him, an easy smile on their lips.
Hi, I’m Burt, Kurt’s father.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Blaine.”
They shook hands and Burt began taking out what was necessary to tow the car.
Blaine walked over to where Kurt was awkwardly standing and mimicked his posture, with his arms folded over his chest. He swayed to the side to hit Kurt with his shoulder and smiled at him.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi,” Kurt replied, smiling. “Nice car.”
“Like you know anything about cars.”
Blaine raised his eyebrow at him and Kurt rolled his eyes.
“Well, the colour goes well with your eyes, and the overall vintage look fits your hairstyle.”
“That’s more like the Kurt I like.”
In a flash, the blush was back on Kurt’s cheeks and he was biting down a stupid grin.
“Alright, boys, let’s get going.”
They piled into the cramped cabin and it was silent for a long time. Blaine was holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and Kurt was on cloud nine, even if it meant cloud nine smelled of gas and old leather and had a Springsteen soundtrack.
“So, Blaine, where did you get a car like this?”
“My dad and I put it back together last summer and then he gave it to me for my birthday. It’s like my baby.”
Kurt could only guess how happy it made his father to hear this. He knew it reassured him to know he would have something to talk with Blaine if he ever ended up alone with him.
Blaine held Kurt’s hand tight for the almost hour long drive back to Lima.
Kurt had hoped Finn and his friends would be gone but he wasn’t so lucky. They were still in the living room, messier and louder than ever, still playing video games but with pizza instead of chips.
Kurt stood in the doorway of the living room, contemplating all the ways he could murder them, until Blaine finally got free from discussing cars with his father and joined him.
“Oh, we have company,” he muttered and Kurt’s face fell.
“I’m sorry about that. They shouldn’t be here.”
The three teenagers finally noticed them and Finn paused the game.
“Hi, Blaine,” he said and smiled at him. Blaine waved back at him with a smile.
“Hey, lady boys!” Puck called.
Blaine’s hand on Kurt’s arm tightened and he tensed.
“Noah, watch your mouth,” Burt called from behind Kurt. “You three, get off your ass and come with me. I need cheap labour to fix Blaine’s car.”
“But Burt! We were just about to try the new Call of Duty!” Finn whined.
“Out. Now. I won’t tell you twice.”
“Don’t let them ruin her, sir,” Blaine said and Burt laughed, promising to keep them under supervision.
And just like that, the house was empty. Kurt found a note from Carole on the fridge saying she was out with friends and Kurt stared at it for the longest time, speechless. She had even cooked them spaghetti while they were gone.
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s shoulders from behind and rested his head next to Kurt’s. The wool of his sweater pricked Kurt’s chin pleasantly.
“Alone at last,” he whispered and Kurt shivered at the feeling of his five o’clock shadow on his cheek. “Nice house,” he continued, letting go of Kurt to look around. “Well, except for the war zone over there.” He chuckled as he pointed at the living room.
“Oh, don’t mention it. I spent my day cleaning the house and in five minutes they ruined it. And then the dinner burned.”
“Oh, that’s why it stinks so much!” Blaine joked. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to see you,” he added when Kurt frowned.
Halfway through the meal, Kurt was relaxed enough to finally ask what had been worrying his mind since his father asked.
“My dad asked if you were my boyfriend.”
“And what did you answer?” Blaine asked with a small smile, leaning back in his chair.
“That I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. If you want to, of course.”
Kurt grinned and couldn’t help it; he leaned over the table and kissed Blaine. He was about to sit back down but Blaine put his hand behind his head and kissed him back, humming in the kiss.
He had thought that the electricity he had felt the first time they kissed was due to the excitement of his first real kiss but he was wrong. It came with kissing Blaine, period.
A noise in the living room startled him and he whipped his head to see where it came from. He moved so fast that Blaine’s lips landed on his cheek, leaving a wet trail.
Sam was standing in the living room, his face livid as he stared at them.
“Sorry… I forgot my coat. I’m sorry. I’ll just. Carry on. I’m out. Sorry.”
Kurt felt mortified but Blaine burst out laughing once Sam was gone.
“Aw, relax Kurt.” Blaine stroked his cheek. “Where were we?” The smile he had on his face could have made Kurt forget his name.
Kissing at the table soon moved to kissing on Kurt’s bed and he easily could have died right then and there from how good he felt. They made out for what seemed like hours, until Kurt’s lips felt dry and chapped and his jaw ached.
“I like you, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, combing Kurt’s hair with his fingers.
“I like you, too. I like you a lot. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in so long.”
Blaine hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head.
“You think your dad would let me spend the night here? I don’t feel like driving back to Westerville tonight. It’s not like I could knock you up if we share a bed, right?”
The thought of sleeping next to Blaine and how he had mentioned sleeping with him set Kurt’s face on fire. He burst out in a fit of giggles and buried his face in the grey wool of his sweater, relishing the smell of Blaine and hiding his poppy-red face.
“You’re so precious. I’m glad you decided to spy on us. Wait. Does that make me a Bond girl?”
Other Stories.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Word Count: ~ 2,500
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Blaine/Kurt
POV: 3rd, Kurt-centric.
Summary: For some reason, the universe didn’t want Kurt to have a quiet date.
Spoilers: Never Been Kissed, for the existence of Blaine.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.
Beta:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Author Notes: I am so inspired it’s almost creepy. Three cheers for finding my muse again after six months of writer’s block. I’ll save you some googling in case you are like me and don’t know cars at all (thanks for the help,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Kurt was exhausted and it wasn’t even six in the afternoon. He had spent his entire Saturday cleaning the house. It wasn’t unkempt as per say but if there was one day in the year when it needed to be picture perfect, it was that day. The only room he did not dare enter was Finn’s. There were battles he knew were lost before he started them. Besides, Finn would probably have another explosion if he knew Kurt had entered his room to reorganise it.
He was cooking a rather complex dish for dinner (he had to go to a specialised groceries store outside of town to find half of the ingredients) when the first catastrophe of the day happened.
The front door opened with a bang and several loud voices covered Kurt’s Wicked soundtrack.
“Dude, what’s that smell?”
Kurt frowned and sighed loudly. Quickly making sure he could leave the stove without anything going up in flames, he stepped in the living room with a stern look. Finn, Puck and Sam had already managed to ruin the cleaning he had done. The cushions were askew, their coats were lying around the room and there were already crumbs of chips on the floor.
“Hi Kurt,” Sam said as Finn tossed him a controller.
He nodded curtly at him, still glaring at Finn.
“Weren’t you supposed to spend the day at Sam’s?” Kurt asked coldly.
“Yeah but his Xbox broke and Puck doesn’t have one,” Finn said without looking away from the television screen. “Seriously, though, what’s that smell?”
“I’m cooking. Could you please—” Kurt began when Puck put his dirty shoe on the coffee table. Puck pointedly ignored him.
“I hope you didn’t plan any for me because I’m not eating something that smells like this.”
“No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. You and your little friends will have to go eat out.”
“We’ll just order pizza, no problem.”
Kurt stared at the three guys for a long time. He was trying to think of a way to tell them to get the hell out of the house without telling them why he needed them away – preferably more than ten miles away.
“Or are you having a date here tonight and we’re cockblocking you?” Puck let out with a chuckle and a self-satisfied grin.
Kurt must have made a telltale face against his will because the three Neanderthals high-fived each other with idiotic laughs. Clenching his fists, he was about to snap some insult about them and the evolution theory when the second catastrophe of the day appeared in the form of Burt and Carole.
“Dad?!” Kurt squeaked before he could stop it.
“Can you believe it? I wrote down the wrong date. You should have seen the maitre d’s face when we showed up,” Burt said lightly, greeting the three guys before sitting down with them to ask about their game and steal chips.
“What’s that smell?” Carole asked, scrunching her nose.
“I’m cooking, okay! That’s Portobello mushrooms!” Kurt was about to smack someone.
“I know the smell of Portobello mushrooms but that—that’s the smell of burning food, Kurt.”
Horrified, Kurt rushed to the kitchen but it was too late. The third catastrophe of the day had happened and the dinner was ruined.
He sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. In half an hour, everything he had spent a week carefully planning had met a dramatic death and Blaine wasn’t even there yet.
Speaking of Blaine, Kurt had a weird foreshadowing moment and reached for his phone, suddenly panicking that something else would go wrong. He clutched it in his hand.
“Hey, don’t look so upset,” Carole said softly, putting her hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m sure it was going to be delicious. You can try it again another time. I’ll help you, if you want.”
Kurt shrugged and thanked her, trying not to look too sad. He knew that he would eventually have to tell everyone that at any moment now, a boy was going to ring at the door expecting to have a quiet date, not a house full of loud, nosey people. Also, the presence of his father put a definite halt to his plan of making out with Blaine for hours.
He was trying to come up with the best way to tell everyone to get the fuck out without looking suspicious when his phone started vibrating in his hand. Kurt’s heart sank when he saw Blaine’s name on his screen.
“Hello?” he said hesitantly, as if answering slowly might lessen the catastrophe about to happen.
”Hey, Kurt. I’m going to be late. My car broke down on the way here and I’m waiting for the towing company. I’m really sorry. Do you still want me to come over? I’ll take me another three hours to get here, easily.”
“Yes, yes, of course!” Kurt was thinking at a hundred miles an hour. “I—cancel the tow… my dad has a garage. We’ll come pick you up.”
”Are you sure he won’t mind? I don’t want to be any worry for him. I can deal on my own; it’s not the first time it breaks.”
“Yeah, just cancel them and we’ll be there soon.”
”Cool. I’ll text you where I am. Thanks, Kurt. I can’t wait to see you.” Blaine’s voice had gotten softer and warmer on the last sentence and Kurt could guess the smile in his voice.
Kurt smiled widely and felt his cheeks burning. He might also have swooned but he would go to his grave saying he hadn’t.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the living room to actually ask his dad if it was okay with him. He was ready to bargain months of chores if he had to.
“Dad…? Sorry to interrupt you while you’re playing…” Kurt stared at the television in disbelief. “… Grand Theft Auto. My—my friend’s car broke down as he was on his way here and I offered to go pick him up… if you don’t mind?”
He watched his father glancing at Carole, saw the meaningful nod she gave him and then his father’s eyes were on him and understanding dawned on the man’s face.
“Yes, of course, let’s go.”
They were silent for ten minutes. That’s how long in silence his dad usually tolerated.
“So. This friend. Is that why you looked so upset you ruined your meal and that we were there?”
Kurt shrugged and looked out the window, very uneasy. He knew this conversation would come up but it didn’t mean he anticipated it.
“It’s okay, you know. I figured that one day you would—I mean. You’re a very kind person and—you’re good-looking – you got that from your mom, obviously – and I knew that one day you would—you know.” He flailed his hand vaguely and resolutely stared at the road.
“Dad,” Kurt said, slowly agonising from embarrassment.
“No, it’s okay, Kurt. Don’t be ashamed. So, the guy we’re picking up, he’s your boyfriend?”
The word hung between them for a beat.
“Dad!” When his father said nothing, Kurt sighed. “I don’t know. Probably. I guess. I don’t know.”
“Well, I hope it works out for you. You look happier lately. You deserve it. And this is as much as I will say on the matter because it makes me as uneasy as it makes you.”
The rest of the drive was in complete silence, the only sound the John Mellencamp record his father had put on.
“Is that him?”
Kurt squinted at the person in the distance and immediately recognised the old-Hollywood-ish comb-over and the small figure of Blaine.
“Yeah, it is.”
Blaine waved at them with his signature smile and Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. He was leaning against his car, looking absolutely stunning in the setting sun and Kurt was so in love it was bordering on neurotic. His father gave him a sideways glance and shook his head with a smile. Kurt had once again blushed, apparently. This was becoming an issue.
“Oh, look at her!” Burt said as he got out of the towing truck and walked towards Blaine’s car. “A ’69 Camaro! I always preferred them in black, good taste, kid. I haven’t seen one in such good state in years! Nice car, son.”
He stroked the car a few times before he remembered that there was someone standing next to him, an easy smile on their lips.
Hi, I’m Burt, Kurt’s father.”
“Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Blaine.”
They shook hands and Burt began taking out what was necessary to tow the car.
Blaine walked over to where Kurt was awkwardly standing and mimicked his posture, with his arms folded over his chest. He swayed to the side to hit Kurt with his shoulder and smiled at him.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi,” Kurt replied, smiling. “Nice car.”
“Like you know anything about cars.”
Blaine raised his eyebrow at him and Kurt rolled his eyes.
“Well, the colour goes well with your eyes, and the overall vintage look fits your hairstyle.”
“That’s more like the Kurt I like.”
In a flash, the blush was back on Kurt’s cheeks and he was biting down a stupid grin.
“Alright, boys, let’s get going.”
They piled into the cramped cabin and it was silent for a long time. Blaine was holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and Kurt was on cloud nine, even if it meant cloud nine smelled of gas and old leather and had a Springsteen soundtrack.
“So, Blaine, where did you get a car like this?”
“My dad and I put it back together last summer and then he gave it to me for my birthday. It’s like my baby.”
Kurt could only guess how happy it made his father to hear this. He knew it reassured him to know he would have something to talk with Blaine if he ever ended up alone with him.
Blaine held Kurt’s hand tight for the almost hour long drive back to Lima.
Kurt had hoped Finn and his friends would be gone but he wasn’t so lucky. They were still in the living room, messier and louder than ever, still playing video games but with pizza instead of chips.
Kurt stood in the doorway of the living room, contemplating all the ways he could murder them, until Blaine finally got free from discussing cars with his father and joined him.
“Oh, we have company,” he muttered and Kurt’s face fell.
“I’m sorry about that. They shouldn’t be here.”
The three teenagers finally noticed them and Finn paused the game.
“Hi, Blaine,” he said and smiled at him. Blaine waved back at him with a smile.
“Hey, lady boys!” Puck called.
Blaine’s hand on Kurt’s arm tightened and he tensed.
“Noah, watch your mouth,” Burt called from behind Kurt. “You three, get off your ass and come with me. I need cheap labour to fix Blaine’s car.”
“But Burt! We were just about to try the new Call of Duty!” Finn whined.
“Out. Now. I won’t tell you twice.”
“Don’t let them ruin her, sir,” Blaine said and Burt laughed, promising to keep them under supervision.
And just like that, the house was empty. Kurt found a note from Carole on the fridge saying she was out with friends and Kurt stared at it for the longest time, speechless. She had even cooked them spaghetti while they were gone.
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s shoulders from behind and rested his head next to Kurt’s. The wool of his sweater pricked Kurt’s chin pleasantly.
“Alone at last,” he whispered and Kurt shivered at the feeling of his five o’clock shadow on his cheek. “Nice house,” he continued, letting go of Kurt to look around. “Well, except for the war zone over there.” He chuckled as he pointed at the living room.
“Oh, don’t mention it. I spent my day cleaning the house and in five minutes they ruined it. And then the dinner burned.”
“Oh, that’s why it stinks so much!” Blaine joked. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to see you,” he added when Kurt frowned.
Halfway through the meal, Kurt was relaxed enough to finally ask what had been worrying his mind since his father asked.
“My dad asked if you were my boyfriend.”
“And what did you answer?” Blaine asked with a small smile, leaning back in his chair.
“That I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. If you want to, of course.”
Kurt grinned and couldn’t help it; he leaned over the table and kissed Blaine. He was about to sit back down but Blaine put his hand behind his head and kissed him back, humming in the kiss.
He had thought that the electricity he had felt the first time they kissed was due to the excitement of his first real kiss but he was wrong. It came with kissing Blaine, period.
A noise in the living room startled him and he whipped his head to see where it came from. He moved so fast that Blaine’s lips landed on his cheek, leaving a wet trail.
Sam was standing in the living room, his face livid as he stared at them.
“Sorry… I forgot my coat. I’m sorry. I’ll just. Carry on. I’m out. Sorry.”
Kurt felt mortified but Blaine burst out laughing once Sam was gone.
“Aw, relax Kurt.” Blaine stroked his cheek. “Where were we?” The smile he had on his face could have made Kurt forget his name.
Kissing at the table soon moved to kissing on Kurt’s bed and he easily could have died right then and there from how good he felt. They made out for what seemed like hours, until Kurt’s lips felt dry and chapped and his jaw ached.
“I like you, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, combing Kurt’s hair with his fingers.
“I like you, too. I like you a lot. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in so long.”
Blaine hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head.
“You think your dad would let me spend the night here? I don’t feel like driving back to Westerville tonight. It’s not like I could knock you up if we share a bed, right?”
The thought of sleeping next to Blaine and how he had mentioned sleeping with him set Kurt’s face on fire. He burst out in a fit of giggles and buried his face in the grey wool of his sweater, relishing the smell of Blaine and hiding his poppy-red face.
“You’re so precious. I’m glad you decided to spy on us. Wait. Does that make me a Bond girl?”
Other Stories.