Fic: Monocle Smile!
Title: Monocle Smile!
Author: blueberrykissa
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Blaine/Kurt
Genre: complete and utter crack
Spoilers: up through NBK
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Glee. Unfortunately I do not, nor do I profit from this fic.
Author Notes: I honestly have no idea what I was on when I wrote this :v Written for this prompt on the fic meme.
Summary: "...And so I rode my valiant steed to your house while you were asleep, and built you a gourmet kitchen with my bare hands. I then baked you a “just because you’re beautiful” cake in it; here it is."
Word Count: 2,538
It had started out innocently enough. Blaine and Kurt were snuggled up on the Hummels’ couch one Sunday afternoon, watching a Full House marathon (and debating exactly when Michelle was being played by Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen) when the commercial came on. It was the silly Old Spice commercial with the (incredibly sexy) man in a shower who ends up on a horse. Kurt snorted from his position on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine smiled. “This commercial is so ridiculous.” He lowered his voice into an imitation of the Old Spice man: “I’m on a horse.”
Kurt giggled. “I do like the smell of Old Spice, though.”
Blaine turned his head awkwardly to look at the brunet on his shoulder. “Really?”
Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. Most people think it smells like old men, but I think it’s kind of, uh, sexy.” His ears were coloring a little, and he looked pointedly at the tv.
“Huh.” Blaine said, turning his head back to the screen as the show returned.
--
The next Friday found Kurt waiting after school for Blaine. They were set to get frozen yogurt that afternoon, and Blaine had promised to pick him up. Kurt had hitched a ride with Finn that morning and was now waiting patiently on the curb in the parking lot, his phone in his lap as he kept his eyes peeled for Blaine’s car.
Suddenly, the rumble of an engine forced his gaze to his right. A bright red motorcycling was rolling into the parking lot, and Kurt realized with a start that the rider was Blaine (indicative by his Dalton uniform and messenger bag). Students where gawking as Blaine pulled up in front of Kurt, removing his helmet and running a hair through his (Gorgeous, Kurt thinks) mussed hair. Kurt can feel his eyebrows meet his hairline. Blaine is grinning, and Kurt could swear he saw his teeth sparkle in the sunshine. “Ready to go, beautiful?” Blaine asks, and whoa, did his voice get deeper? Kurt’s mouth drops open a little.
“Since when… did you drive a motorcycle?” Kurt asks, allowing himself to be helped up by Blaine’s outreached hand. He reaches down to grab his own bag, but is stopped when Blaine swoops down to pick it up. Blaine doesn’t answer his question. “Come. We have adventures awaiting us.” He hands Kurt a helmet and helps him onto his motorcycle. Before getting on, Blaine turns toward a few freshmen girls who are flocked together, tittering. “Hello ladies. How are you? Fantastic.” He smiles and the girls squeal. Kurt grips the motorcycle, watching perplexed. Blaine puts on his helmet and returns to the bike, turning the ignition and starting the engine. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s torso. And just like that, they’re pulling out of the WMHS parking lot, and riding into the sunset.
--
“What happened to frozen yogurt?” Kurt asks as Blaine pours him a glass of sparkling cider. They’re on a small rowboat in the middle of a lake, somewhere a few miles outside of Lima. Blaine has packed them a picnic of delicious French cuisine, complete with checkered blanket and soft pillows for Kurt to lean on. Blaine has also somehow acquired a moustache sometime on the ride over (this is the strangest thing in Kurt’s opinion). Blaine smirks, setting the bottle back in the basket and pulling out a baguette and a small hunk of a cheese. He cuts Kurt a slice of both and hands them over on a small china plate.
“Frozen yogurt simply wasn’t romantic enough for my tastes, Kurt.” He leans back, swirling the cider in his glass as he watches Kurt take a small bite from his baguette slice. “You see, as I was skiing down my private mountain yesterday, the wind whistling through my unbelievably handsome ears, I realized that our date today simply would not do. You deserved something much more elaborate than meager fro-yo. And so I rode my valiant steed to your house while you were asleep, and built you a gourmet kitchen with my bare hands. I then baked you a “just because you’re beautiful” cake in it; here it is.” Blaine set down his glass and held out his hands. Kurt stared at him thinking, ‘Well great, my boyfriend has gone insane,‘ just as a perfectly iced cake fell from the sky and landed in Blaine’s arms.
Kurt gaped in disbelief. ‘What the hell?!’ He thought as Blaine cut him a piece and handed it to him with a fork (which was engraved with Kurt in swirly letters). He tentatively took a bite. He had to quickly stop himself from moaning; the cake was delicious. Kurt chewed and swallowed. “Is this butter cream icing?” He asked.
Blaine smiled. “I made the butter myself.” Kurt continued to eat the cake, utterly confused, as Blaine began to row them into the sunset.
--
That night Kurt and Blaine were walking hand in hand at a carnival Kurt didn’t even know was happening that night. When he asked Blaine about it, Blaine had simply laughed and said the universe knew it was their date night and had provided a suitably romantic function for their love-filled frolicking to occur. This had only confused Kurt more, as Blaine had been doing that entire day.
But now things seemed to be getting weirder (if that were at all possible at this point). Blaine had succeeded in winning at every game they played that night, letting Kurt choose a large stuffed animal to hold from each booth. The stuffed animals were all with Blaine’s motorcycle now (Kurt had no idea how they were going to get them home). They had also ridden the Ferris wheel; their car had stopped at the top, and Blaine took five minutes describing exactly how the combined lights of the carnival and stars made Kurt’s eyes sparkle like big expensive jewels. Kurt had blushed the whole way through, flattered and bewildered. When they returned to the ground, Blaine had grasped Kurt’s hand, and explained that they were now to take a leisurely stroll through the carnival and pick up some cotton candy, as the treat reminded Blaine of Kurt’s perfectly coiffed hair. Kurt had let himself be pulled along.
So now they were walking, Kurt pressed against Blaine’s side (it was a bit chilly, and Blaine had lent him his jacket, saying it was inexcusable that his love be allowed to be even just a bit chilly), when he heard shuffling. He curiously turned his head around to find a small clump of teenagers following them, all staring openly at Blaine. Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ah!” Kurt looked back at Blaine, who was looking at a stand. “There it is. Wait here, my love, while I go procure us some delicious carnival confections.” Blaine smiled and patted Kurt’s hand. “I shall return presently.” And he was off.
Kurt watched him leave, growing tired of feeling confused all the time. He turned around warily to see if the people who were following them had dispersed once Blaine had left; they’d actually grown in numbers. Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hand. Here he was, alone in the middle of a carnival, his boyfriend acting crazy and people following them. It was all completely tragic. He peered up through his fingers from his self-pity at the clearing of a throat. The group of teenagers were now directly in front of him, with their arms crossed or their hands on their hips. One of them, a girl about his age (with terrible split ends) stepped forward. She spoke to him, “Excuse us. But who exactly were you with just now?”
Kurt’s eyebrows were meeting his hairline again. “My boyfriend,” He said concisely. “Why?”
The girl frowned. Another girl in the back blurted, “But he’s so perfect! He can’t be dating someone!”
Now Kurt was a bit angry. “Well, he is. And it’s really annoying that you guys keep following us, so could you please knock it off?”
The girl in the front flipped her hair over her shoulder (it was then that Kurt noticed that the entire group was made up of girls). She leaned forward a little, “Well, I’m sure it can’t be that serious.” She turned up her nose, “I wonder if he just hasn’t met someone a little bit more to his taste yet.”
Kurt was seriously about to cut a bitch. He opened his mouth to reply when he was cut off, “Hello ladies.”
Kurt turned to find Blaine behind him, two pink cotton candy sticks in one hand, the other snaking it’s way around Kurt’s waist. “And what, may I ask, are you ladies conversing with my Kurt here about?”
The girls immediately melted, and Kurt swore he could see some hearts in their eyes. He rolled his own. “They’re questioning why you are dating me.”
Blaine’s eyebrows rose. He smiled at the girls. “Ladies. Look at my man; now back at me. Now back at my man; now back at me.” The girls’ heads moved quickly between the two as if watching a tennis match. “Sadly, he’s dating me. Which means both he and I are both equally unavailable, and equally madly in love.” Kurt blushed. The girls looked a bit crushed. Blaine continued. “Also sadly, our love is too cosmic for this world, as one day our totally awesome passion will become too great, resulting in the sun exploding and creating a black hole, sucking up all the bottlenose dolphins of the earth. And while no one wants to live in a world without bottlenose dolphins, it is a risk I am willing to take to be with Kurt.” Now the girls looked confounded, and Kurt was completely crimson.
“Farewell, Ladies.”
With that, Blaine put a cotton candy in Kurt’s hand and steered them away, towards where the sun had set just a few hours ago.
--
The next morning, Kurt awoke to his doorbell being rung. He ventured on his doorstep to find another large stuffed animal, a large tub of redvines and a bouquet of exotic flowers. A note in handwritten calligraphy was attached, saying “To my love, I can only hope these flowers made it to you as fresh and beautiful as you remain in my mind every moment. Eternally yours, Blaine.” Kurt rolled his eyes, tugged his robe around himself a bit tighter and brought the gifts inside.
Finn entered the kitchen, yawning, as Kurt was putting the flowers in a vase and setting it on the table. Finn looked perplexed. “Who are those from?”
“Blaine.” Kurt said simply, not looking up. “He’s been acting very odd lately.”
“Oh.” Finn said, navigating his way towards the pantry. “Like how?”
Kurt straightened up and sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think I can describe it. It’s like, he’s turned into this extreme gentleman who goes off on tangents about building me kitchens with his bare hands and sucking up bottlenose dolphins into a giant black holes.” Finn looked at him curiously. “I know. I don’t get it either.”
Finn pulled a box of Captain Crunch down, opening it and popping a few in his mouth. He talked between chewing. “Maybe something happened recently that made him start acting this way?” Kurt crinkled his nose in disgust and handed Finn a napkin.
“Maybe,” he said, turning to leave the kitchen, “I’ll figure it out.” Finn grunted in acknowledgement.
--
That afternoon, Blaine showed up on his doorstep. He was standing there, shirtless, a dozen or so medals around his neck, wearing a crown and holding a scepter. Kurt was speechless.
“Hello Kurt,” Blaine said, smirking. “I just returned from winning my twelfth exotic car-throwing competition. As you may have heard, I have recently been made the king of a small Scandinavian country, and I have decided to make you its almighty Prince of fashion, musicals and all things beautiful. I had procured two tickets to that Lady Gaga concert you like, but as you can see,” he held up his other hand, a pile of sparkling things sprinkling from it, “The tickets are now diamonds! Let us take these diamonds and outfit you a crown worthy of your title as Prince.” Blaine reached his hand out to take Kurt’s arm, but Kurt shook him off.
“Wait. What? What the hell-Blaine, what’s going on?” Now it was Blaine’s turn to look confused. “I don’t understand what you are asking about.” He said, adjusting his medals.
“This!” Kurt said, making a gesture to all of Blaine’s extravagance. “Why have you been acting so weird this weekend? Are you trying to prank me or something? Because it’s working, but it’s so not funny.”
Blaine faltered, his chest deflating. “I-,” he looked like he didn’t know what to say. Kurt suddenly felt awful. He stammered, “I mean- I’m not mad at you. I just want to know what’s up.”
Blaine lowered his scepter. “I’ve… been using Old Spice.”
There was a pregnant pause. Kurt stared at Blaine, who looked suddenly uncomfortable being shirtless. Blaine crossed his arms. Kurt began to lean forward, staring at Blaine’s chest. Blaine shrunk back a little. “Uh, Kurt…?” Kurt didn’t respond, but instead inhaled deeply, and moved back.
“Well.” Kurt stared at Blaine before he burst out laughing. Blaine just stood there, watching as Kurt laughed himself to tears, not finding it at all funny.
“How on earth-“ Kurt was gasping for breath, trying to regain control. “How on earth did switching to Old Spice make you act this way?” Blaine shrugged. Kurt wiped his eyes.
“I just-,” Blaine was shifting uncomfortably, and Kurt calmed down enough to look at him seriously. “You said you thought Old Spice was sexy, and I just wanted to make you think I’m sexy.” Blaine looked away from Kurt.
Kurt smiled. “I can’t believe you thought I don’t think you’re sexy,” Kurt inched forward, winding his arms around Blaine’s neck and pressing their bodies together. Blaine instinctively dropped his scepter and wound his arms around Kurt’s form, looking at him. “Which you are, by the way. Incredibly so.” Kurt put his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck and inhaled.
“With or without the Old Spice.” Blaine beamed as Kurt pulled back to look him in the face. “So please go back to being my Blaine?”
Blaine leant in to capture Kurt’s lips in a short, sweet kiss. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course,” Blaine said, taking his crown and putting it on Kurt’s head. Kurt made an undignified squawk of “My hair!” and Blaine laughed, kissing him again.
They had moved inside a few minutes later (so as to not scar the neighbors). They sat on the couch, sharing a few lazy kisses before they pulled back a moment for air. “Hey, guess what?” Blaine smiled at Kurt, his arms wrapped snugly around his waist. Kurt hummed, his eyebrows rising. Blaine pushed them both down on the couch so that he was on top of Kurt. Kurt looked up, surprised; Blaine just grinned and leant his face down towards Kurt’s as he answered. “I’m on a Kurt.”
Kurt smacked Blaine upside the head as he laughed.
Author: blueberrykissa
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Blaine/Kurt
Genre: complete and utter crack
Spoilers: up through NBK
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Glee. Unfortunately I do not, nor do I profit from this fic.
Author Notes: I honestly have no idea what I was on when I wrote this :v Written for this prompt on the fic meme.
Summary: "...And so I rode my valiant steed to your house while you were asleep, and built you a gourmet kitchen with my bare hands. I then baked you a “just because you’re beautiful” cake in it; here it is."
Word Count: 2,538
It had started out innocently enough. Blaine and Kurt were snuggled up on the Hummels’ couch one Sunday afternoon, watching a Full House marathon (and debating exactly when Michelle was being played by Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen) when the commercial came on. It was the silly Old Spice commercial with the (incredibly sexy) man in a shower who ends up on a horse. Kurt snorted from his position on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine smiled. “This commercial is so ridiculous.” He lowered his voice into an imitation of the Old Spice man: “I’m on a horse.”
Kurt giggled. “I do like the smell of Old Spice, though.”
Blaine turned his head awkwardly to look at the brunet on his shoulder. “Really?”
Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. Most people think it smells like old men, but I think it’s kind of, uh, sexy.” His ears were coloring a little, and he looked pointedly at the tv.
“Huh.” Blaine said, turning his head back to the screen as the show returned.
--
The next Friday found Kurt waiting after school for Blaine. They were set to get frozen yogurt that afternoon, and Blaine had promised to pick him up. Kurt had hitched a ride with Finn that morning and was now waiting patiently on the curb in the parking lot, his phone in his lap as he kept his eyes peeled for Blaine’s car.
Suddenly, the rumble of an engine forced his gaze to his right. A bright red motorcycling was rolling into the parking lot, and Kurt realized with a start that the rider was Blaine (indicative by his Dalton uniform and messenger bag). Students where gawking as Blaine pulled up in front of Kurt, removing his helmet and running a hair through his (Gorgeous, Kurt thinks) mussed hair. Kurt can feel his eyebrows meet his hairline. Blaine is grinning, and Kurt could swear he saw his teeth sparkle in the sunshine. “Ready to go, beautiful?” Blaine asks, and whoa, did his voice get deeper? Kurt’s mouth drops open a little.
“Since when… did you drive a motorcycle?” Kurt asks, allowing himself to be helped up by Blaine’s outreached hand. He reaches down to grab his own bag, but is stopped when Blaine swoops down to pick it up. Blaine doesn’t answer his question. “Come. We have adventures awaiting us.” He hands Kurt a helmet and helps him onto his motorcycle. Before getting on, Blaine turns toward a few freshmen girls who are flocked together, tittering. “Hello ladies. How are you? Fantastic.” He smiles and the girls squeal. Kurt grips the motorcycle, watching perplexed. Blaine puts on his helmet and returns to the bike, turning the ignition and starting the engine. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s torso. And just like that, they’re pulling out of the WMHS parking lot, and riding into the sunset.
--
“What happened to frozen yogurt?” Kurt asks as Blaine pours him a glass of sparkling cider. They’re on a small rowboat in the middle of a lake, somewhere a few miles outside of Lima. Blaine has packed them a picnic of delicious French cuisine, complete with checkered blanket and soft pillows for Kurt to lean on. Blaine has also somehow acquired a moustache sometime on the ride over (this is the strangest thing in Kurt’s opinion). Blaine smirks, setting the bottle back in the basket and pulling out a baguette and a small hunk of a cheese. He cuts Kurt a slice of both and hands them over on a small china plate.
“Frozen yogurt simply wasn’t romantic enough for my tastes, Kurt.” He leans back, swirling the cider in his glass as he watches Kurt take a small bite from his baguette slice. “You see, as I was skiing down my private mountain yesterday, the wind whistling through my unbelievably handsome ears, I realized that our date today simply would not do. You deserved something much more elaborate than meager fro-yo. And so I rode my valiant steed to your house while you were asleep, and built you a gourmet kitchen with my bare hands. I then baked you a “just because you’re beautiful” cake in it; here it is.” Blaine set down his glass and held out his hands. Kurt stared at him thinking, ‘Well great, my boyfriend has gone insane,‘ just as a perfectly iced cake fell from the sky and landed in Blaine’s arms.
Kurt gaped in disbelief. ‘What the hell?!’ He thought as Blaine cut him a piece and handed it to him with a fork (which was engraved with Kurt in swirly letters). He tentatively took a bite. He had to quickly stop himself from moaning; the cake was delicious. Kurt chewed and swallowed. “Is this butter cream icing?” He asked.
Blaine smiled. “I made the butter myself.” Kurt continued to eat the cake, utterly confused, as Blaine began to row them into the sunset.
--
That night Kurt and Blaine were walking hand in hand at a carnival Kurt didn’t even know was happening that night. When he asked Blaine about it, Blaine had simply laughed and said the universe knew it was their date night and had provided a suitably romantic function for their love-filled frolicking to occur. This had only confused Kurt more, as Blaine had been doing that entire day.
But now things seemed to be getting weirder (if that were at all possible at this point). Blaine had succeeded in winning at every game they played that night, letting Kurt choose a large stuffed animal to hold from each booth. The stuffed animals were all with Blaine’s motorcycle now (Kurt had no idea how they were going to get them home). They had also ridden the Ferris wheel; their car had stopped at the top, and Blaine took five minutes describing exactly how the combined lights of the carnival and stars made Kurt’s eyes sparkle like big expensive jewels. Kurt had blushed the whole way through, flattered and bewildered. When they returned to the ground, Blaine had grasped Kurt’s hand, and explained that they were now to take a leisurely stroll through the carnival and pick up some cotton candy, as the treat reminded Blaine of Kurt’s perfectly coiffed hair. Kurt had let himself be pulled along.
So now they were walking, Kurt pressed against Blaine’s side (it was a bit chilly, and Blaine had lent him his jacket, saying it was inexcusable that his love be allowed to be even just a bit chilly), when he heard shuffling. He curiously turned his head around to find a small clump of teenagers following them, all staring openly at Blaine. Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ah!” Kurt looked back at Blaine, who was looking at a stand. “There it is. Wait here, my love, while I go procure us some delicious carnival confections.” Blaine smiled and patted Kurt’s hand. “I shall return presently.” And he was off.
Kurt watched him leave, growing tired of feeling confused all the time. He turned around warily to see if the people who were following them had dispersed once Blaine had left; they’d actually grown in numbers. Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hand. Here he was, alone in the middle of a carnival, his boyfriend acting crazy and people following them. It was all completely tragic. He peered up through his fingers from his self-pity at the clearing of a throat. The group of teenagers were now directly in front of him, with their arms crossed or their hands on their hips. One of them, a girl about his age (with terrible split ends) stepped forward. She spoke to him, “Excuse us. But who exactly were you with just now?”
Kurt’s eyebrows were meeting his hairline again. “My boyfriend,” He said concisely. “Why?”
The girl frowned. Another girl in the back blurted, “But he’s so perfect! He can’t be dating someone!”
Now Kurt was a bit angry. “Well, he is. And it’s really annoying that you guys keep following us, so could you please knock it off?”
The girl in the front flipped her hair over her shoulder (it was then that Kurt noticed that the entire group was made up of girls). She leaned forward a little, “Well, I’m sure it can’t be that serious.” She turned up her nose, “I wonder if he just hasn’t met someone a little bit more to his taste yet.”
Kurt was seriously about to cut a bitch. He opened his mouth to reply when he was cut off, “Hello ladies.”
Kurt turned to find Blaine behind him, two pink cotton candy sticks in one hand, the other snaking it’s way around Kurt’s waist. “And what, may I ask, are you ladies conversing with my Kurt here about?”
The girls immediately melted, and Kurt swore he could see some hearts in their eyes. He rolled his own. “They’re questioning why you are dating me.”
Blaine’s eyebrows rose. He smiled at the girls. “Ladies. Look at my man; now back at me. Now back at my man; now back at me.” The girls’ heads moved quickly between the two as if watching a tennis match. “Sadly, he’s dating me. Which means both he and I are both equally unavailable, and equally madly in love.” Kurt blushed. The girls looked a bit crushed. Blaine continued. “Also sadly, our love is too cosmic for this world, as one day our totally awesome passion will become too great, resulting in the sun exploding and creating a black hole, sucking up all the bottlenose dolphins of the earth. And while no one wants to live in a world without bottlenose dolphins, it is a risk I am willing to take to be with Kurt.” Now the girls looked confounded, and Kurt was completely crimson.
“Farewell, Ladies.”
With that, Blaine put a cotton candy in Kurt’s hand and steered them away, towards where the sun had set just a few hours ago.
--
The next morning, Kurt awoke to his doorbell being rung. He ventured on his doorstep to find another large stuffed animal, a large tub of redvines and a bouquet of exotic flowers. A note in handwritten calligraphy was attached, saying “To my love, I can only hope these flowers made it to you as fresh and beautiful as you remain in my mind every moment. Eternally yours, Blaine.” Kurt rolled his eyes, tugged his robe around himself a bit tighter and brought the gifts inside.
Finn entered the kitchen, yawning, as Kurt was putting the flowers in a vase and setting it on the table. Finn looked perplexed. “Who are those from?”
“Blaine.” Kurt said simply, not looking up. “He’s been acting very odd lately.”
“Oh.” Finn said, navigating his way towards the pantry. “Like how?”
Kurt straightened up and sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think I can describe it. It’s like, he’s turned into this extreme gentleman who goes off on tangents about building me kitchens with his bare hands and sucking up bottlenose dolphins into a giant black holes.” Finn looked at him curiously. “I know. I don’t get it either.”
Finn pulled a box of Captain Crunch down, opening it and popping a few in his mouth. He talked between chewing. “Maybe something happened recently that made him start acting this way?” Kurt crinkled his nose in disgust and handed Finn a napkin.
“Maybe,” he said, turning to leave the kitchen, “I’ll figure it out.” Finn grunted in acknowledgement.
--
That afternoon, Blaine showed up on his doorstep. He was standing there, shirtless, a dozen or so medals around his neck, wearing a crown and holding a scepter. Kurt was speechless.
“Hello Kurt,” Blaine said, smirking. “I just returned from winning my twelfth exotic car-throwing competition. As you may have heard, I have recently been made the king of a small Scandinavian country, and I have decided to make you its almighty Prince of fashion, musicals and all things beautiful. I had procured two tickets to that Lady Gaga concert you like, but as you can see,” he held up his other hand, a pile of sparkling things sprinkling from it, “The tickets are now diamonds! Let us take these diamonds and outfit you a crown worthy of your title as Prince.” Blaine reached his hand out to take Kurt’s arm, but Kurt shook him off.
“Wait. What? What the hell-Blaine, what’s going on?” Now it was Blaine’s turn to look confused. “I don’t understand what you are asking about.” He said, adjusting his medals.
“This!” Kurt said, making a gesture to all of Blaine’s extravagance. “Why have you been acting so weird this weekend? Are you trying to prank me or something? Because it’s working, but it’s so not funny.”
Blaine faltered, his chest deflating. “I-,” he looked like he didn’t know what to say. Kurt suddenly felt awful. He stammered, “I mean- I’m not mad at you. I just want to know what’s up.”
Blaine lowered his scepter. “I’ve… been using Old Spice.”
There was a pregnant pause. Kurt stared at Blaine, who looked suddenly uncomfortable being shirtless. Blaine crossed his arms. Kurt began to lean forward, staring at Blaine’s chest. Blaine shrunk back a little. “Uh, Kurt…?” Kurt didn’t respond, but instead inhaled deeply, and moved back.
“Well.” Kurt stared at Blaine before he burst out laughing. Blaine just stood there, watching as Kurt laughed himself to tears, not finding it at all funny.
“How on earth-“ Kurt was gasping for breath, trying to regain control. “How on earth did switching to Old Spice make you act this way?” Blaine shrugged. Kurt wiped his eyes.
“I just-,” Blaine was shifting uncomfortably, and Kurt calmed down enough to look at him seriously. “You said you thought Old Spice was sexy, and I just wanted to make you think I’m sexy.” Blaine looked away from Kurt.
Kurt smiled. “I can’t believe you thought I don’t think you’re sexy,” Kurt inched forward, winding his arms around Blaine’s neck and pressing their bodies together. Blaine instinctively dropped his scepter and wound his arms around Kurt’s form, looking at him. “Which you are, by the way. Incredibly so.” Kurt put his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck and inhaled.
“With or without the Old Spice.” Blaine beamed as Kurt pulled back to look him in the face. “So please go back to being my Blaine?”
Blaine leant in to capture Kurt’s lips in a short, sweet kiss. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course,” Blaine said, taking his crown and putting it on Kurt’s head. Kurt made an undignified squawk of “My hair!” and Blaine laughed, kissing him again.
They had moved inside a few minutes later (so as to not scar the neighbors). They sat on the couch, sharing a few lazy kisses before they pulled back a moment for air. “Hey, guess what?” Blaine smiled at Kurt, his arms wrapped snugly around his waist. Kurt hummed, his eyebrows rising. Blaine pushed them both down on the couch so that he was on top of Kurt. Kurt looked up, surprised; Blaine just grinned and leant his face down towards Kurt’s as he answered. “I’m on a Kurt.”
Kurt smacked Blaine upside the head as he laughed.