From Shade to Light
Title: From Shade to Light
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~900
Spoilers: Is there really anyone who hasn’t seen BIOTA?
Summary: When is it going to be his turn? When does Kurt Hummel get to win one?
Notes: Based on this gifset and tags from facethefall. Title from Desperation Song by Carbon Leaf.
*****
Kurt doesn’t know how he gets himself into these situations. The best laid plans of mice and men, right? Well Kurt hates mice, and men- well the one he’s interested in is currently sucking the face off of Rachel Berry and Kurt just wants to puke.
Everyone around them is cheering, laughing, punching Blaine in the shoulder and all Kurt can do is stare on in horror and try his damndest to not throw a hissy fit and scream at the injustice of it all. Every time.
He watches Rachel and Blaine singing together on stage and wonders when it’s going to be his turn; when does Kurt Hummel get to win one?
When the song finishes, Rachel doesn’t leave the stage (typical) but Blaine stumbles over to where Kurt is sitting rigidly on the couch, one leg crossed primly over the other. Gracelessly, Blaine falls to his side and buries his face into Kurt’s shoulder, laughing.
“That was fun,” he looks up at Kurt.
Kurt smiles tightly at him.
“Aren’t you having fun?” Blaine pouts at him. “Kuuuuurt.”
Kurt starts when Blaine lays his warm hand over Kurt’s bent knee. “Dance!” He shouts, shaking Kurt’s leg and looking like it’s the best idea anyone has ever had. “Come on. Dance with me, Kurt.” Blaine looks at him with such wide eyes, a sweet smile forming on his face, Kurt can’t help but roll his eyes and smile back.
“Alright, alright, fine!”
“Yes!” Blaine pushes himself up, grabbing Kurt’s hand and trying to drag him off the couch, missing the fact that Kurt was standing up himself and overbalancing them both. Blaine’s eyes go impossibly wide as he falls, landing on his back with an oof. Kurt lands on top of Blaine and freezes when Blaine’s hands reach up to grab his biceps out of instinct.
“Anderson’s getting it from everywhere tonight!” someone (Puck, Kurt thinks, I’m going to kill him) yells.
“Sorry,” Kurt mutters, pushing himself to his knees, dusting off his thighs. Blaine still has a look of shock on his face that, once he realizes he hasn’t died in his terrible fall, quickly dissolves to giggles. Kurt catches a flash of silver and black from around Blaine’s neck, attached to the leather cord Kurt hadn’t realized was under his shirt and cardigan, but Blaine tucks it back under his shirt before reaching up to Kurt’s outstretched hand.
Once he’s upright, his face turns a bit green. He shuts his mouth and blinks several times, squeezing Kurt’s hand in his. “Maybe dancing is a bad idea,” he rubs his free hand over his face and looks at Kurt, then longingly back at the couch.
Despite how much Kurt wants to I-told-you-so him, Blaine just looks so pathetic that Kurt can’t help but take pity on him. He maneuvers them to the couch where Blaine instantly curls into Kurt’s side and falls asleep. He carefully keeps the smile from his face, silently relishing Blaine’s weight and heat against him.
It isn’t until later, much later, when he and Finn have dropped off everyone who opted (probably wisely) not to sleep at Rachel’s, and manhandled Blaine into Kurt’s room, that Kurt’s curiosity gets the best of him.
Blaine had sleepily toed off his shoes and snuggled deep into Kurt’s blankets. “Thank you,” he’d muttered, burying into a pillow.
“For what?” Kurt asked quietly, careful to keep a respectable amount of space between their bodies, his own humming with anxiety.
“Taking care of me,” he flopped onto his side, looking at Kurt through heavy lids. A smile grew on his face before he fell asleep.
“Sure,” Kurt had whispered to his sleeping form. He laid there, debating silently with himself.
He comes to a decision after what feels like hours of laying still, staring at his ceiling. He looks over at Blaine, who has turned onto his stomach, his arms wrapped tight under a pillow. Carefully, Kurt lifts his hand, pausing just before he reaches Blaine’s shirt collar. He slowly wiggles his fingers under Blaine’s shirt, his fingers catching onto the leather cord and twisting it until the charm comes up from under Blaine’s neck.
It’s a button. A small, black button, wrapped in what looks like a bent up paperclip to hold it onto the cord. He narrows his eyebrows, wondering. He gasps, dropping the necklace and slapping his hand over his mouth. It couldn’t be…
He pushes back the blanket, sitting up as best he can without jostling the mattress.
Kurt moves to his closet, wincing when the door hinge creaks. He looks back to Blaine, jaw tensed. He rolls his eyes when Blaine doesn’t stir.
A drum line of baboons couldn’t wake him up.
He flips through his hangers until he finds it - his black double-breasted jacket. The one with the mysteriously missing button he hadn’t gotten around to replacing. The button he’d lost that first day at Dalton.
His pulse is thrumming in his ears. He turns to look at Blaine, smiling to himself. He tries to school his face into something more casual, even with no one around to see.
He slides back into his bed, laying on his right side, watching Blaine sleep, stares at that button peeking out from under the red cardigan.
Maybe his win is coming sooner than he thought.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~900
Spoilers: Is there really anyone who hasn’t seen BIOTA?
Summary: When is it going to be his turn? When does Kurt Hummel get to win one?
Notes: Based on this gifset and tags from facethefall. Title from Desperation Song by Carbon Leaf.
*****
Kurt doesn’t know how he gets himself into these situations. The best laid plans of mice and men, right? Well Kurt hates mice, and men- well the one he’s interested in is currently sucking the face off of Rachel Berry and Kurt just wants to puke.
Everyone around them is cheering, laughing, punching Blaine in the shoulder and all Kurt can do is stare on in horror and try his damndest to not throw a hissy fit and scream at the injustice of it all. Every time.
He watches Rachel and Blaine singing together on stage and wonders when it’s going to be his turn; when does Kurt Hummel get to win one?
When the song finishes, Rachel doesn’t leave the stage (typical) but Blaine stumbles over to where Kurt is sitting rigidly on the couch, one leg crossed primly over the other. Gracelessly, Blaine falls to his side and buries his face into Kurt’s shoulder, laughing.
“That was fun,” he looks up at Kurt.
Kurt smiles tightly at him.
“Aren’t you having fun?” Blaine pouts at him. “Kuuuuurt.”
Kurt starts when Blaine lays his warm hand over Kurt’s bent knee. “Dance!” He shouts, shaking Kurt’s leg and looking like it’s the best idea anyone has ever had. “Come on. Dance with me, Kurt.” Blaine looks at him with such wide eyes, a sweet smile forming on his face, Kurt can’t help but roll his eyes and smile back.
“Alright, alright, fine!”
“Yes!” Blaine pushes himself up, grabbing Kurt’s hand and trying to drag him off the couch, missing the fact that Kurt was standing up himself and overbalancing them both. Blaine’s eyes go impossibly wide as he falls, landing on his back with an oof. Kurt lands on top of Blaine and freezes when Blaine’s hands reach up to grab his biceps out of instinct.
“Anderson’s getting it from everywhere tonight!” someone (Puck, Kurt thinks, I’m going to kill him) yells.
“Sorry,” Kurt mutters, pushing himself to his knees, dusting off his thighs. Blaine still has a look of shock on his face that, once he realizes he hasn’t died in his terrible fall, quickly dissolves to giggles. Kurt catches a flash of silver and black from around Blaine’s neck, attached to the leather cord Kurt hadn’t realized was under his shirt and cardigan, but Blaine tucks it back under his shirt before reaching up to Kurt’s outstretched hand.
Once he’s upright, his face turns a bit green. He shuts his mouth and blinks several times, squeezing Kurt’s hand in his. “Maybe dancing is a bad idea,” he rubs his free hand over his face and looks at Kurt, then longingly back at the couch.
Despite how much Kurt wants to I-told-you-so him, Blaine just looks so pathetic that Kurt can’t help but take pity on him. He maneuvers them to the couch where Blaine instantly curls into Kurt’s side and falls asleep. He carefully keeps the smile from his face, silently relishing Blaine’s weight and heat against him.
It isn’t until later, much later, when he and Finn have dropped off everyone who opted (probably wisely) not to sleep at Rachel’s, and manhandled Blaine into Kurt’s room, that Kurt’s curiosity gets the best of him.
Blaine had sleepily toed off his shoes and snuggled deep into Kurt’s blankets. “Thank you,” he’d muttered, burying into a pillow.
“For what?” Kurt asked quietly, careful to keep a respectable amount of space between their bodies, his own humming with anxiety.
“Taking care of me,” he flopped onto his side, looking at Kurt through heavy lids. A smile grew on his face before he fell asleep.
“Sure,” Kurt had whispered to his sleeping form. He laid there, debating silently with himself.
He comes to a decision after what feels like hours of laying still, staring at his ceiling. He looks over at Blaine, who has turned onto his stomach, his arms wrapped tight under a pillow. Carefully, Kurt lifts his hand, pausing just before he reaches Blaine’s shirt collar. He slowly wiggles his fingers under Blaine’s shirt, his fingers catching onto the leather cord and twisting it until the charm comes up from under Blaine’s neck.
It’s a button. A small, black button, wrapped in what looks like a bent up paperclip to hold it onto the cord. He narrows his eyebrows, wondering. He gasps, dropping the necklace and slapping his hand over his mouth. It couldn’t be…
He pushes back the blanket, sitting up as best he can without jostling the mattress.
Kurt moves to his closet, wincing when the door hinge creaks. He looks back to Blaine, jaw tensed. He rolls his eyes when Blaine doesn’t stir.
A drum line of baboons couldn’t wake him up.
He flips through his hangers until he finds it - his black double-breasted jacket. The one with the mysteriously missing button he hadn’t gotten around to replacing. The button he’d lost that first day at Dalton.
His pulse is thrumming in his ears. He turns to look at Blaine, smiling to himself. He tries to school his face into something more casual, even with no one around to see.
He slides back into his bed, laying on his right side, watching Blaine sleep, stares at that button peeking out from under the red cardigan.
Maybe his win is coming sooner than he thought.