drabblefic~
All it takes is for a couple of my Tumblr friends to start talking about Kurt's hair and I do stuff like this. ME. AND THIS PAIRING. FOREVER.
Title: Closer
Rating: PG
Spoilers: zero
Warnings: zero
Word Count: 251
Summary: Three guesses. And the first two don't count.
Mercedes sees him, but he quickly shakes his head no, and she keeps silent, smiling a little harder into the conversation but otherwise showing no signs of anything suspicious. With a practiced silence that comes from sneaking through the halls of Dalton after curfew on Wes's crazy ninja missions, he sidles up behind Kurt, slowly, slowly, almost sinfully close to his thin sharp shoulders, smooth back coasting down to narrow hips, and oh god he is way too close to be thinking thoughts like that - and then swiftly swoops his hands around to the front of Kurt's face to cover up his eyes.
"Hey!" yelps Kurt.
"Three guesses," Blaine says, leaning even closer (how is that possible) and breathing in his ear. "And the first two don't count."
He feels Kurt's cheeks shift upward in a smile under his hands, and he tries to turn around but Blaine won't let him just yet, the sweetness of his cool brown hair unbearably soft on Blaine's cheek. Against his better judgment, even with Mercedes there, he shifts closer into it, ends up breathing it in against his whole face at the base of Kurt's neck. When he pulls his hands away he takes care to brush across it even a little more. It feels like silk on his palm and smells, clouding all his senses (including his sense of reason, dear god they are in a public place), like Kurt.
"Hey," Kurt says again, but now it's hard and breathy, and has a different meaning entirely.
Title: Closer
Rating: PG
Spoilers: zero
Warnings: zero
Word Count: 251
Summary: Three guesses. And the first two don't count.
Mercedes sees him, but he quickly shakes his head no, and she keeps silent, smiling a little harder into the conversation but otherwise showing no signs of anything suspicious. With a practiced silence that comes from sneaking through the halls of Dalton after curfew on Wes's crazy ninja missions, he sidles up behind Kurt, slowly, slowly, almost sinfully close to his thin sharp shoulders, smooth back coasting down to narrow hips, and oh god he is way too close to be thinking thoughts like that - and then swiftly swoops his hands around to the front of Kurt's face to cover up his eyes.
"Hey!" yelps Kurt.
"Three guesses," Blaine says, leaning even closer (how is that possible) and breathing in his ear. "And the first two don't count."
He feels Kurt's cheeks shift upward in a smile under his hands, and he tries to turn around but Blaine won't let him just yet, the sweetness of his cool brown hair unbearably soft on Blaine's cheek. Against his better judgment, even with Mercedes there, he shifts closer into it, ends up breathing it in against his whole face at the base of Kurt's neck. When he pulls his hands away he takes care to brush across it even a little more. It feels like silk on his palm and smells, clouding all his senses (including his sense of reason, dear god they are in a public place), like Kurt.
"Hey," Kurt says again, but now it's hard and breathy, and has a different meaning entirely.