Fic: I Don't Want Your Sympathy (I Just Need A Little Therapy) (3/?)
Media: Fanfic
Title: I Don't Want Your Sympathy (I Just Need A Little Therapy)
Rating: Eventual NC-17 if I don't entirely chicken out. R in general. (I'll change the adult content filter thingy when we get there.)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine.
Spoilers: Up to 'Sexy', AU after that.
Warnings: Eventual sexytimes, swearing, the inner workings of my fucked up brain.
Word Count: ~3,293 for this part; 8,947 so far.
Summary: While snooping around Dalton, Kurt and Blaine find a mysterious old box. Despite Kurt's protest, Blaine opens it. Next thing they know, they have somehow switched bodies - and the only way to switch back is something Kurt is definitely not ready for.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! Hope it's satisfactory. Comments and feedback are like crack to me.
Part One
Part Two
Blaine leaves when Burt texts him, asking if he’s on the way home yet. He gives Kurt one last lingering hug, starts to say ‘I’m sorry’ for about the hundredth time but stops himself, and then he’s gone.
Kurt sits down and tries to organize his thoughts. Even with the finished ‘cheat sheet’ Blaine had given him he feels completely overwhelmed. But if Blaine’s father is as uninterested in his son as Blaine says he is, he won’t have to deal with him much. Maybe he can just spend all of his time at Blaine’s house - no, his house. Kurt’s house. Where he still lives, if not for the time being, thank you very much. He shakes his head and then looks around the room, trying to decide what happens next.
First things first, he has to get out of this god-awful uniform and wash the gel out of Blaine’s hair. He looks through Blaine’s closet until he finds an acceptable pair of pajamas, then heads toward the bathroom that connects to Blaine’s room. Only when he steps inside and locks both doors does he realize that, oh, right, putting on pajamas means getting naked. Getting Blaine naked.
For half a second Kurt contemplates never showering again, but that’s just too gross, so he takes a deep breath and starts to unbutton his blazer. This doesn’t have to be weird, he thinks, or awkward or creepy. After all, it has to happen eventually, right? Blaine is going to have to undress in his body sooner or later, or at least he hopes so, because if he gets back in that body to find that Blaine hasn’t showered or changed clothes once, he’ll probably punch him in the face. (He still avoids the thought of Blaine seeing his body naked, though. Even if it’s inevitable, it doesn’t mean he has to enjoy the idea. He should probably avoid thinking about it ever again because it freaks him out way too much.)
Of course, Kurt doesn’t have to undress in front of the mirror, but there he is, pulling Blaine’s undershirt up over his head to reveal a broad, not overly muscular but certainly toned, bare chest. And, well, yeah, he stops and stares for a bit. He can’t really help it, and he’ll have to get used to this anyway. Blaine has a light dusting of hair across his chest, not much but still more that Kurt has. Kurt never thought he would find that attractive, but it works on Blaine. He’s gorgeous, which Kurt already knew, but damn - this is why he likes boys; boys are awesome. Why isn’t he okay with having sex with this guy, again?
His fingers dip below the waistband of Blaine’s uniform pants, and the brief but overwhelming giddiness at the sight of his half-naked crush wilts away and dies, because oh, right. It’s not Blaine he’s looking at; it’s himself, sort of. And, general crippling terror of sex and intimacy aside (though that is the biggest problem), even if he did break down and sleep with Blaine to switch back, he would essentially be screwing himself. It’s too weird to think about.
Kurt shuts his eyes before gracelessly pulling down the uniform slacks and boxers, then takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again, only to feel like the wind is being knocked out of him. It’s not as if he’s never seen a dick before, of course, and he tries not to stare for too long, but… wow.
This is where it crosses the line between curious and creepy. He doesn’t even like to look at himself for this long, or at all, when he’s undressing, he shouldn’t be invading Blaine’s privacy like this. Kurt shuts his eyes again before he does something completely stupid like touch it, which - well, now that he’s thought of it - no. No. That would be bad. Very, very bad.
Shit. He thinks miserably. It just wasn’t supposed to be like this. His first time seeing a real life naked boy was supposed to be with said real live naked boy, in his own body (probably naked himself although that is, he decides, optional), allowed and willing to explore at his leisure without feeling like a disgusting creep.
Being stuck in your crush’s body is not as kinky or as hot as he might have imagined (if this were the sort of thing that anyone imagined.)
He takes the fastest, coldest shower he’s ever taken, his face burning in embarrassment, trying not to wonder if Blaine stripped as soon as he was alone, too.
***
The first night being Kurt isn’t as bad as it could be.
Dinner is awkward, because he barely has time to get in the door before he’s sitting at the table in front of something delicious Carole had prepared. He tries to make small talk, but he is paranoid that if they ask him how his day went, he’ll blurt out something like, “I got lost on the way to Warblers practice, switched bodies with Kurt, oh and I totally aced my Chem test.” Finn begs for help with his history homework, and Blaine automatically responds that he’s terrible with history but if you need an algebra problem done, he’s your man. The bewildered look at Finn’s face as he backs out of the room is enough of an indicator that he screwed up there, reminding him that it’s not enough just to wear Kurt’s skin. Kurt will have it easy as far as pretending goes because Mr. Anderson doesn’t notice Blaine anyway. Kurt has a family who cares about him fiercely and will notice when something is wrong. He has to put more of an effort into being Kurt.
Luckily, when they ask why he’s being so quiet (seriously, loudest and most hilarious family ever), he quickly assures them that he’s fine, he’s just had a long day. By the time he escapes up to Kurt’s room, he feels his exhaustion down to his very bones. He slips on a pair of stretchy yoga pants and an old t-shirt he finds in the closet, bypassing the expensive silk pajamas, before collapsing on Kurt’s huge soft bed. He has time to vaguely remember the last time he was in this bed, wasted and trying to snuggle and not quite understanding why Kurt kept angrily shoving him away, before he’s dead to the world.
He wakes up many times during the night, feeling itchy, almost, uncomfortable no matter what position he lies in, and he wonders if he’ll ever grow accustomed to living in this body. Part of him hopes not.
There’s a weird moment in the bathroom the next morning before school, as he’s climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around Kurt’s thin waist, when it occurs to him that this is Kurt, half naked in front of him. So yeah, he stops and looks for a minute, but whatever, it’s not as if he’s doing anything bad. He wonders why the sight gets him so flustered, but chalks it up to the fact that Kurt is, well, gorgeous and completely his type.
Not that it means anything.
At school, he automatically begins looking for Kurt’s impeccable hair in the sea of identical uniforms, before he reminds himself that he’s looking for his own face. Still, he doesn’t actually see him until lunch, when Kurt sits down across from him as he starts eating.
“My hair,” Blaine says in place of a greeting. Kurt has, thankfully, put product in it, but instead of being plastered down his curls are actually definable, with only enough gel to make it lay flat. Kurt clearly doesn’t understand the dangerous relationship between Ohio’s humidity and his hair.
Kurt waves him off, shrugging off Blaine’s backpack and setting it in the empty seat next to him. “You’ll thank me when you realize that your scalp needs to breathe once in a while. Besides, look at my hair!” He reaches across the table and tucks it behind Blaine’s ears so that it’s no longer flopping over his eyes. He’s hardly seen his hair like this, totally free of product, since he was twelve. It makes him look even younger. “There’s a thing called hairspray, Blaine, and it’s essential for me.”
Blaine can’t help but smile. “I’ll try to remember.” Kurt smiles back, but it seems forced. He clears his throat. “So… how are you holding up?” He asks hesitantly.
“As well as can be, given the circumstances,” Kurt replies, averting his eyes. I saw you naked, he thinks, and wonders just how hard he’s blushing. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but somehow it is. “You?”
“Not too bad. It’s tough, being you.”
“Tell me about it,” he says dryly. “I know it’s only been a day, but I miss them. My family, I mean. We were supposed to have dinner together, tonight.”
Blaine nods sympathetically. “Maybe you can come over?”
“No. It’s just a family thing, and I’m not family anymore.” Kurt sighs. If he had known that last week’s Friday night dinner might have been the last for a long time, he would have tried to make it more special.
“Saturday, then? I know it won’t really be the same, but you’d get to see them, right?”
Kurt smiles again, shyly, his first real smile that day. Blaine just sounds so eager to please. Why does he have to be so cute? “That would be amazing. But what about you?”
Blaine shrugs. “I don’t miss home all that much right now. I mean, of course I want to visit dad, but no rush, right?”
“Yeah.” Kurt looks at him oddly, but before Blaine can question why, he changes the subject. “We can trade homework. I’m awful at all of your subjects, and I’d hate for our grades to suffer for this predicament.”
He’s thinking ahead far better than Blaine is, keeping track of all these rules and arrangements almost as if he’s writing up a business contract. It seems weird, but if it will make this whole mess easier, Blaine will to go along with whatever Kurt thinks is best. “Awesome,” he answers. The rest of the meal is quiet, and when Blaine leaves for History class, he leaves with a strange sinking feeling in his gut.
***
Kurt swallows, fighting back the instinct to walk straight into his house, and rings the doorbell. He hears the familiar thud of Finn’s footsteps and his voice calling out “I’ll get it!” and seconds later the door opens.
“Oh, hey, Blaine,” Finn says, and it’s still disorienting to be called that. He steps aside to let Kurt in. “’Sup?”
“Not much,” Kurt says, trying to mimic Blaine’s more casual way of speaking. “You?”
“Playing video games with Kurt. Did you know he was so good at Call of Duty? I’ve never seen him play video games before,” Finn asks excitedly. Sure enough, when they enter the living room, Blaine is perched on the couch with an x-box controller in his hand. He grins a very un-Kurt-like grin, showing all of his tiny teeth, when he looks up.
“No.” Kurt, who never plays video games, fakes a smile, already feeling irritated and a little ill though he isn’t sure why. “I had no idea. He’ll have to teach me some time.”
Blaine turns the controller off. “Hi, Ku-Blaine,” he quickly corrects, standing up. “Thanks for playing with me, Finn.”
“Sure.” Finn shoves a handful of Doritos into his mouth, never taking his eyes off the game.
“Dad? Blaine’s here,” Blaine calls out. Kurt remembers, suddenly, that Blaine is the touchy-feely type, and leans over to hug him awkwardly. Blaine seems surprised - which, Kurt supposes, works because he himself would probably look the same way - but hugs him back just the same.
Burt comes in just as they step apart, and at the sight of his father Kurt wants to cry a little. He feels so guilty for not being here to take care of him, wishes that he could run up, hug Burt, and never let go. He wishes he could tell Burt everything that happened, but he can’t. Instead, he puts on a smile and says, “Hello, Mr. Hummel.”
“Blaine.” Burt says gruffly. He’s always slightly awkward around Blaine, and Kurt isn’t sure why. Probably just because he’s the first gay boy Kurt has ever met, therefore a potential boyfriend - yeah, right, Kurt thinks. “Carole wants to know if you’re staying for dinner.”
“Oh - that would be lovely.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine’s smile widen even more. “But I don’t want to impose,” he adds quickly.
Burt waves him off. “Don’t you worry about that.”
“Thank you so much.” He smiles again, politely, and suddenly he can’t even bear to be in this room. He reaches over to tug on Blaine’s shirtsleeve - and Blaine is seriously going to need a lecture on how to treat Kurt’s clothes, because no one in their right mind should pair that shirt with those jeans - and says, “Kurt, we should go ahead and start on our homework!”
Blaine nods and follows him up the stairs, and watches from the doorway as Kurt immediately collapses face-first on the bed, hugging a pillow tight against his chest. When he doesn’t move for at least a minute, Blaine fidgets anxiously. “Hard day?” He asks hesitantly.
“Your wardrobe is pathetic and your face pisses me off. How do you stand having to shave every day?” Kurt props up on his elbows and absently scratches at his jaw.
“Well, it’s nice to know how you feel about my face.” Blaine perches on the edge of the bed, and Kurt grunts and lets his head fall back to the pillow. “How’s my dad?” Blaine asks after a moment.
Kurt shrugs. “Honestly, I haven’t seen him much. And when I did he barely spoke to me.”
“Yeah, he’s like that.”
“Why?” Kurt looks up at him. Blaine just shrugs and that seems to do the trick, because Kurt drops the subject. “I don’t play video games,” he says instead.
Blaine stares at him. “What?”
“You were playing video games with Finn. I never play with him.”
Oh. Right. Blaine rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, okay? It’s not a big deal. Finn asked and I hadn’t gotten to play Black Ops yet.” Kurt just scowls. “Hey, what’s wrong? Should I teach you how to play?”
“You’re also dressed ridiculously.”
“Oh my god -“
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
Blaine rolls his eyes. “Toast and eggs. And bacon. With ketchup. But I didn’t let your dad have any,” he adds quickly.
“Mmmhmm. Look, I’m trying so hard to do this right.”
“I don’t think there’s a rulebook -”
“Yes, there is!” Kurt snaps. “I wrote one right there!” He gestures to the cheat sheet, lying on his bedside table. “How many other things are you going to do with my body that I would never do?”
“Excuse me for not giving up something that makes me happy. If you don’t want to play video games, fine, but what’s the harm in it? Kurt, come on.” Blaine groans as Kurt rolls over to face the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would you just look at me?”
He sits up slowly, but still averts his eyes, hugging his knees up to his chest. Blaine sighs. “No, really look at me. We need to talk about this.” Kurt sighs and looks into Blaine’s eyes. “Thank you. Now, listen. I know you’re upset. I am too, trust me, and if there was any way I could take back what happened, I would. But I don’t think it has to be like this, feeling awkward and fighting every time we see each other.”
Kurt bites his lip. “Is it not awkward for you?” He asks quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… showering and changing clothes and all that. Is that as weird for you as it is for me?”
“Well, a little. But I’ve gone to an all-boys school for two years; I’m used to showering with other people around. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs, and then gives Kurt a curious look. “Why?”
“Nothing. Continue.” Kurt blushes.
“I just feel like you totally hate me now. And I can’t stand that. You don’t even look me in the eye anymore. It really sucks. So if you could just tell me how to make you not hate me, that would be great.”
Kurt stares at him for a long, silent minute, his head tilted to the side, before he reaches out and brushes his fingers against Blaine’s cheek. Blaine’s breath catches. “I could never hate you.” Kurt says softly. “You’re my best friend.”
Blaine grins. Even though he just got friendzoned - as if there are any other zones I would want to be in, he thinks, a little confused by his own train of thought - he feels the tension practically leak out of his body. Kurt doesn’t hate him. Everything is right in the world…well, not everything, but still. “You’re mine, too,” he says. Kurt finally smiles, shyly. “Nothing will ever change that, okay? Even when weird magic boxes that want us to get it on make things awkward. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Kurt’s smile wavers, but he doesn’t think Blaine notices. He doesn’t suppose he can be legitimately upset about being put in the friendzone when he unwittingly did it first. Anyway, it still feels nice. Mercedes is his best girlfriend, true, but it’s different with Blaine. Aside from being in love with Blaine, he just loves him. He’ll take what he can get. “I’m sorry I keep snapping at you. I’m just so frustrated.” In so many ways.
“No hard feelings. And hey, if you’re that offended by my wardrobe, use my credit card and buy some stuff that’ll fit me. I’m sure that having nice clothes will make this easier for you. Oh, and if you could like, show me what I’m even supposed to do with most of your clothes, that would be awesome. I’ve just been copying what I’ve seen you wear.” Kurt laughs softly, but Blaine can already see the wheels turning in his mind, knows that that look means that Kurt is already planning outfits. Blaine feels Kurt’s hand cupping his cheek, thumb and finger absently stroking the skin there almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, and lets his eyes drift shut, leaning into the touch. After a moment, though, he realizes that Kurt isn’t caressing but examining.
“You’re slacking on the skincare,” Kurt murmurs, but he smirks when Blaine opens his eyes.
Blaine laughs. “The list is so long, though. Surely I don’t have to use every single one.”
Kurt hops up and practically skips over to his vanity table. The place where his hand rested on Blaine’s cheek feels extra warm and kind of tingly, and Blaine reaches up to touch it, just for a second, before Kurt turns back around, a few bottles of skincare products in his arms. He squirts some kind of green goo onto his hands, one of the products that Blaine hadn’t used because it was a really, really gross color and he didn’t know how that could help your skin at all. “Watch and learn, Blaine Warbler,” he says with a wink, smearing the cold goo onto the place where his hand had been. Blaine watches him, a warm, fond feeling rising in his chest at the determined, very Kurt-like look on his own face. He was right. Things don’t have to be so weird, after all.
Title: I Don't Want Your Sympathy (I Just Need A Little Therapy)
Rating: Eventual NC-17 if I don't entirely chicken out. R in general. (I'll change the adult content filter thingy when we get there.)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine.
Spoilers: Up to 'Sexy', AU after that.
Warnings: Eventual sexytimes, swearing, the inner workings of my fucked up brain.
Word Count: ~3,293 for this part; 8,947 so far.
Summary: While snooping around Dalton, Kurt and Blaine find a mysterious old box. Despite Kurt's protest, Blaine opens it. Next thing they know, they have somehow switched bodies - and the only way to switch back is something Kurt is definitely not ready for.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! Hope it's satisfactory. Comments and feedback are like crack to me.
Part One
Part Two
Blaine leaves when Burt texts him, asking if he’s on the way home yet. He gives Kurt one last lingering hug, starts to say ‘I’m sorry’ for about the hundredth time but stops himself, and then he’s gone.
Kurt sits down and tries to organize his thoughts. Even with the finished ‘cheat sheet’ Blaine had given him he feels completely overwhelmed. But if Blaine’s father is as uninterested in his son as Blaine says he is, he won’t have to deal with him much. Maybe he can just spend all of his time at Blaine’s house - no, his house. Kurt’s house. Where he still lives, if not for the time being, thank you very much. He shakes his head and then looks around the room, trying to decide what happens next.
First things first, he has to get out of this god-awful uniform and wash the gel out of Blaine’s hair. He looks through Blaine’s closet until he finds an acceptable pair of pajamas, then heads toward the bathroom that connects to Blaine’s room. Only when he steps inside and locks both doors does he realize that, oh, right, putting on pajamas means getting naked. Getting Blaine naked.
For half a second Kurt contemplates never showering again, but that’s just too gross, so he takes a deep breath and starts to unbutton his blazer. This doesn’t have to be weird, he thinks, or awkward or creepy. After all, it has to happen eventually, right? Blaine is going to have to undress in his body sooner or later, or at least he hopes so, because if he gets back in that body to find that Blaine hasn’t showered or changed clothes once, he’ll probably punch him in the face. (He still avoids the thought of Blaine seeing his body naked, though. Even if it’s inevitable, it doesn’t mean he has to enjoy the idea. He should probably avoid thinking about it ever again because it freaks him out way too much.)
Of course, Kurt doesn’t have to undress in front of the mirror, but there he is, pulling Blaine’s undershirt up over his head to reveal a broad, not overly muscular but certainly toned, bare chest. And, well, yeah, he stops and stares for a bit. He can’t really help it, and he’ll have to get used to this anyway. Blaine has a light dusting of hair across his chest, not much but still more that Kurt has. Kurt never thought he would find that attractive, but it works on Blaine. He’s gorgeous, which Kurt already knew, but damn - this is why he likes boys; boys are awesome. Why isn’t he okay with having sex with this guy, again?
His fingers dip below the waistband of Blaine’s uniform pants, and the brief but overwhelming giddiness at the sight of his half-naked crush wilts away and dies, because oh, right. It’s not Blaine he’s looking at; it’s himself, sort of. And, general crippling terror of sex and intimacy aside (though that is the biggest problem), even if he did break down and sleep with Blaine to switch back, he would essentially be screwing himself. It’s too weird to think about.
Kurt shuts his eyes before gracelessly pulling down the uniform slacks and boxers, then takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again, only to feel like the wind is being knocked out of him. It’s not as if he’s never seen a dick before, of course, and he tries not to stare for too long, but… wow.
This is where it crosses the line between curious and creepy. He doesn’t even like to look at himself for this long, or at all, when he’s undressing, he shouldn’t be invading Blaine’s privacy like this. Kurt shuts his eyes again before he does something completely stupid like touch it, which - well, now that he’s thought of it - no. No. That would be bad. Very, very bad.
Shit. He thinks miserably. It just wasn’t supposed to be like this. His first time seeing a real life naked boy was supposed to be with said real live naked boy, in his own body (probably naked himself although that is, he decides, optional), allowed and willing to explore at his leisure without feeling like a disgusting creep.
Being stuck in your crush’s body is not as kinky or as hot as he might have imagined (if this were the sort of thing that anyone imagined.)
He takes the fastest, coldest shower he’s ever taken, his face burning in embarrassment, trying not to wonder if Blaine stripped as soon as he was alone, too.
***
The first night being Kurt isn’t as bad as it could be.
Dinner is awkward, because he barely has time to get in the door before he’s sitting at the table in front of something delicious Carole had prepared. He tries to make small talk, but he is paranoid that if they ask him how his day went, he’ll blurt out something like, “I got lost on the way to Warblers practice, switched bodies with Kurt, oh and I totally aced my Chem test.” Finn begs for help with his history homework, and Blaine automatically responds that he’s terrible with history but if you need an algebra problem done, he’s your man. The bewildered look at Finn’s face as he backs out of the room is enough of an indicator that he screwed up there, reminding him that it’s not enough just to wear Kurt’s skin. Kurt will have it easy as far as pretending goes because Mr. Anderson doesn’t notice Blaine anyway. Kurt has a family who cares about him fiercely and will notice when something is wrong. He has to put more of an effort into being Kurt.
Luckily, when they ask why he’s being so quiet (seriously, loudest and most hilarious family ever), he quickly assures them that he’s fine, he’s just had a long day. By the time he escapes up to Kurt’s room, he feels his exhaustion down to his very bones. He slips on a pair of stretchy yoga pants and an old t-shirt he finds in the closet, bypassing the expensive silk pajamas, before collapsing on Kurt’s huge soft bed. He has time to vaguely remember the last time he was in this bed, wasted and trying to snuggle and not quite understanding why Kurt kept angrily shoving him away, before he’s dead to the world.
He wakes up many times during the night, feeling itchy, almost, uncomfortable no matter what position he lies in, and he wonders if he’ll ever grow accustomed to living in this body. Part of him hopes not.
There’s a weird moment in the bathroom the next morning before school, as he’s climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around Kurt’s thin waist, when it occurs to him that this is Kurt, half naked in front of him. So yeah, he stops and looks for a minute, but whatever, it’s not as if he’s doing anything bad. He wonders why the sight gets him so flustered, but chalks it up to the fact that Kurt is, well, gorgeous and completely his type.
Not that it means anything.
At school, he automatically begins looking for Kurt’s impeccable hair in the sea of identical uniforms, before he reminds himself that he’s looking for his own face. Still, he doesn’t actually see him until lunch, when Kurt sits down across from him as he starts eating.
“My hair,” Blaine says in place of a greeting. Kurt has, thankfully, put product in it, but instead of being plastered down his curls are actually definable, with only enough gel to make it lay flat. Kurt clearly doesn’t understand the dangerous relationship between Ohio’s humidity and his hair.
Kurt waves him off, shrugging off Blaine’s backpack and setting it in the empty seat next to him. “You’ll thank me when you realize that your scalp needs to breathe once in a while. Besides, look at my hair!” He reaches across the table and tucks it behind Blaine’s ears so that it’s no longer flopping over his eyes. He’s hardly seen his hair like this, totally free of product, since he was twelve. It makes him look even younger. “There’s a thing called hairspray, Blaine, and it’s essential for me.”
Blaine can’t help but smile. “I’ll try to remember.” Kurt smiles back, but it seems forced. He clears his throat. “So… how are you holding up?” He asks hesitantly.
“As well as can be, given the circumstances,” Kurt replies, averting his eyes. I saw you naked, he thinks, and wonders just how hard he’s blushing. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but somehow it is. “You?”
“Not too bad. It’s tough, being you.”
“Tell me about it,” he says dryly. “I know it’s only been a day, but I miss them. My family, I mean. We were supposed to have dinner together, tonight.”
Blaine nods sympathetically. “Maybe you can come over?”
“No. It’s just a family thing, and I’m not family anymore.” Kurt sighs. If he had known that last week’s Friday night dinner might have been the last for a long time, he would have tried to make it more special.
“Saturday, then? I know it won’t really be the same, but you’d get to see them, right?”
Kurt smiles again, shyly, his first real smile that day. Blaine just sounds so eager to please. Why does he have to be so cute? “That would be amazing. But what about you?”
Blaine shrugs. “I don’t miss home all that much right now. I mean, of course I want to visit dad, but no rush, right?”
“Yeah.” Kurt looks at him oddly, but before Blaine can question why, he changes the subject. “We can trade homework. I’m awful at all of your subjects, and I’d hate for our grades to suffer for this predicament.”
He’s thinking ahead far better than Blaine is, keeping track of all these rules and arrangements almost as if he’s writing up a business contract. It seems weird, but if it will make this whole mess easier, Blaine will to go along with whatever Kurt thinks is best. “Awesome,” he answers. The rest of the meal is quiet, and when Blaine leaves for History class, he leaves with a strange sinking feeling in his gut.
***
Kurt swallows, fighting back the instinct to walk straight into his house, and rings the doorbell. He hears the familiar thud of Finn’s footsteps and his voice calling out “I’ll get it!” and seconds later the door opens.
“Oh, hey, Blaine,” Finn says, and it’s still disorienting to be called that. He steps aside to let Kurt in. “’Sup?”
“Not much,” Kurt says, trying to mimic Blaine’s more casual way of speaking. “You?”
“Playing video games with Kurt. Did you know he was so good at Call of Duty? I’ve never seen him play video games before,” Finn asks excitedly. Sure enough, when they enter the living room, Blaine is perched on the couch with an x-box controller in his hand. He grins a very un-Kurt-like grin, showing all of his tiny teeth, when he looks up.
“No.” Kurt, who never plays video games, fakes a smile, already feeling irritated and a little ill though he isn’t sure why. “I had no idea. He’ll have to teach me some time.”
Blaine turns the controller off. “Hi, Ku-Blaine,” he quickly corrects, standing up. “Thanks for playing with me, Finn.”
“Sure.” Finn shoves a handful of Doritos into his mouth, never taking his eyes off the game.
“Dad? Blaine’s here,” Blaine calls out. Kurt remembers, suddenly, that Blaine is the touchy-feely type, and leans over to hug him awkwardly. Blaine seems surprised - which, Kurt supposes, works because he himself would probably look the same way - but hugs him back just the same.
Burt comes in just as they step apart, and at the sight of his father Kurt wants to cry a little. He feels so guilty for not being here to take care of him, wishes that he could run up, hug Burt, and never let go. He wishes he could tell Burt everything that happened, but he can’t. Instead, he puts on a smile and says, “Hello, Mr. Hummel.”
“Blaine.” Burt says gruffly. He’s always slightly awkward around Blaine, and Kurt isn’t sure why. Probably just because he’s the first gay boy Kurt has ever met, therefore a potential boyfriend - yeah, right, Kurt thinks. “Carole wants to know if you’re staying for dinner.”
“Oh - that would be lovely.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine’s smile widen even more. “But I don’t want to impose,” he adds quickly.
Burt waves him off. “Don’t you worry about that.”
“Thank you so much.” He smiles again, politely, and suddenly he can’t even bear to be in this room. He reaches over to tug on Blaine’s shirtsleeve - and Blaine is seriously going to need a lecture on how to treat Kurt’s clothes, because no one in their right mind should pair that shirt with those jeans - and says, “Kurt, we should go ahead and start on our homework!”
Blaine nods and follows him up the stairs, and watches from the doorway as Kurt immediately collapses face-first on the bed, hugging a pillow tight against his chest. When he doesn’t move for at least a minute, Blaine fidgets anxiously. “Hard day?” He asks hesitantly.
“Your wardrobe is pathetic and your face pisses me off. How do you stand having to shave every day?” Kurt props up on his elbows and absently scratches at his jaw.
“Well, it’s nice to know how you feel about my face.” Blaine perches on the edge of the bed, and Kurt grunts and lets his head fall back to the pillow. “How’s my dad?” Blaine asks after a moment.
Kurt shrugs. “Honestly, I haven’t seen him much. And when I did he barely spoke to me.”
“Yeah, he’s like that.”
“Why?” Kurt looks up at him. Blaine just shrugs and that seems to do the trick, because Kurt drops the subject. “I don’t play video games,” he says instead.
Blaine stares at him. “What?”
“You were playing video games with Finn. I never play with him.”
Oh. Right. Blaine rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, okay? It’s not a big deal. Finn asked and I hadn’t gotten to play Black Ops yet.” Kurt just scowls. “Hey, what’s wrong? Should I teach you how to play?”
“You’re also dressed ridiculously.”
“Oh my god -“
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
Blaine rolls his eyes. “Toast and eggs. And bacon. With ketchup. But I didn’t let your dad have any,” he adds quickly.
“Mmmhmm. Look, I’m trying so hard to do this right.”
“I don’t think there’s a rulebook -”
“Yes, there is!” Kurt snaps. “I wrote one right there!” He gestures to the cheat sheet, lying on his bedside table. “How many other things are you going to do with my body that I would never do?”
“Excuse me for not giving up something that makes me happy. If you don’t want to play video games, fine, but what’s the harm in it? Kurt, come on.” Blaine groans as Kurt rolls over to face the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would you just look at me?”
He sits up slowly, but still averts his eyes, hugging his knees up to his chest. Blaine sighs. “No, really look at me. We need to talk about this.” Kurt sighs and looks into Blaine’s eyes. “Thank you. Now, listen. I know you’re upset. I am too, trust me, and if there was any way I could take back what happened, I would. But I don’t think it has to be like this, feeling awkward and fighting every time we see each other.”
Kurt bites his lip. “Is it not awkward for you?” He asks quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… showering and changing clothes and all that. Is that as weird for you as it is for me?”
“Well, a little. But I’ve gone to an all-boys school for two years; I’m used to showering with other people around. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs, and then gives Kurt a curious look. “Why?”
“Nothing. Continue.” Kurt blushes.
“I just feel like you totally hate me now. And I can’t stand that. You don’t even look me in the eye anymore. It really sucks. So if you could just tell me how to make you not hate me, that would be great.”
Kurt stares at him for a long, silent minute, his head tilted to the side, before he reaches out and brushes his fingers against Blaine’s cheek. Blaine’s breath catches. “I could never hate you.” Kurt says softly. “You’re my best friend.”
Blaine grins. Even though he just got friendzoned - as if there are any other zones I would want to be in, he thinks, a little confused by his own train of thought - he feels the tension practically leak out of his body. Kurt doesn’t hate him. Everything is right in the world…well, not everything, but still. “You’re mine, too,” he says. Kurt finally smiles, shyly. “Nothing will ever change that, okay? Even when weird magic boxes that want us to get it on make things awkward. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Kurt’s smile wavers, but he doesn’t think Blaine notices. He doesn’t suppose he can be legitimately upset about being put in the friendzone when he unwittingly did it first. Anyway, it still feels nice. Mercedes is his best girlfriend, true, but it’s different with Blaine. Aside from being in love with Blaine, he just loves him. He’ll take what he can get. “I’m sorry I keep snapping at you. I’m just so frustrated.” In so many ways.
“No hard feelings. And hey, if you’re that offended by my wardrobe, use my credit card and buy some stuff that’ll fit me. I’m sure that having nice clothes will make this easier for you. Oh, and if you could like, show me what I’m even supposed to do with most of your clothes, that would be awesome. I’ve just been copying what I’ve seen you wear.” Kurt laughs softly, but Blaine can already see the wheels turning in his mind, knows that that look means that Kurt is already planning outfits. Blaine feels Kurt’s hand cupping his cheek, thumb and finger absently stroking the skin there almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, and lets his eyes drift shut, leaning into the touch. After a moment, though, he realizes that Kurt isn’t caressing but examining.
“You’re slacking on the skincare,” Kurt murmurs, but he smirks when Blaine opens his eyes.
Blaine laughs. “The list is so long, though. Surely I don’t have to use every single one.”
Kurt hops up and practically skips over to his vanity table. The place where his hand rested on Blaine’s cheek feels extra warm and kind of tingly, and Blaine reaches up to touch it, just for a second, before Kurt turns back around, a few bottles of skincare products in his arms. He squirts some kind of green goo onto his hands, one of the products that Blaine hadn’t used because it was a really, really gross color and he didn’t know how that could help your skin at all. “Watch and learn, Blaine Warbler,” he says with a wink, smearing the cold goo onto the place where his hand had been. Blaine watches him, a warm, fond feeling rising in his chest at the determined, very Kurt-like look on his own face. He was right. Things don’t have to be so weird, after all.