Fic: Your Smile Down To Your Feet
Title: Your Smile Down To Your Feet
Fandom: Glee
Author: phantomreviewer
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
A/N:: Title from The Magnetic Field’s “When My Boy Walks Down The Street” (I love this song and I keep envisioning Blaine singing it to Kurt, it doesn’t come into the fic but it might do in the future.) Sorry for any Britishism. (I never thought I’d have to warn for that! So used to my little 100 members Brit fandoms).
Summary: It’s the first time that Kurt wears a kilt in Blaine’s presence after the Prom fiasco. Kurt worries. Blaine brings soup.
The next time Blaine sees Kurt in a kilt it's an accident. Well, not so much of an accident because it will be a day when hell freezes over that Kurt Hummel has a fashion 'accident', but Kurt doesn't plan on letting Blaine see him in it.
(Or out of it, easy is certainly not what Kurt is going for, and love Blaine as he well might admit to in the privacy of his own thoughts, but his thoughts aren't quite that... interesting yet.)
Even though he knew he could pull off a kilt, -and had done before the debacle that was Junior Prom- and he wasn't going to let the bigots in his grade take away a whole varied undercarriage option, he wasn't sure Blaine would agree.
Blaine could -would, Kurt insisted on it- learn to appreciate the swish of a kilt in New York, in LA, in Pennsylvania, somewhere that wasn't Lima and didn't have him looking over his shoulder when he thought Kurt didn't notice.
Somewhere more cosmopolitan.
The reason Kurt is wearing a kilt now however, has very little to do with appreciation or acceptance or even really fashion. He's not feeling well.
Burt, that morning had registered Kurt's lethargic movements, and the fact that his dressing gown was still wrapped around him and had sent him back to bed.
Kurt supposed it could have been food poisoning, but he'd not accepted any food off Noah and, had it been the canteen Finn would be the one throwing his guts up, not him. Finn had smiled apologetically at Kurt before he'd left with a "yeah, apologise to Glee, I know. I'm going before you hurl bro."
Carole sent him a look that told him to get back to bed, you might be 17 and not my biological son but young man you better do what I say and Kurt nodded. He pulled himself from the kitchen and turned back to the stairs.
His bed was comfortable when he settled onto it. In the darkness he fished around for how iPhone, wincing as the light hit his eyes.
He rattled off a text to Blaine
Can't make coffee after school 2day, come down with a bug/virus thing. Don't want to infect you. Miss you. Kurt
And after pressing send, he fell asleep.
His phone declares the time as two forty six when Kurt eventually woke up.
The first thing he notes is that he's still wearing his dressing gown and the second is that he feels, better?
Getting out of bed isn't quite the challenge that it was earlier and like a homing pigeon he makes his way to his closet.
Something loose and the only people he'll be seeing will be his dad, Finn and Carole and whilst he might love them all, none of them (except perhaps Carole, and even then...) will notice if he forges the normal Paris runway quality. He can deal with, on a sick day, only resembling a third year fashion degree student.
He decides on a kilt, royal blue and heavy that he'd normally pair with high boots or if he were particularly daring his Gaga shoes, but today leggings -light blue, with small white polka dots- combined with slippers will do the job nicely. He's got a cream silk top, that he's sure he remembers Brittany giving him after she said she didn't trust it anyone after what "it did", that be thinks belonged to a set of pyjamas, but now belongs in this ensemble.
There is nothing worth watching on the television- alone in the house as he is, Carole and his dad are still working overtime to make up the expenditure from the Dalton tuition- so it is his iPod and The Great Gatsby the keep him entertained.
He's only sick once more, and when he's making his way back to the living room there comes a knock on the door. Finn could have forgotten his keys, he supposes, or it's a package for his dad.
What he doesn't expect is Blaine. Standing awkwardly on the doorstep but getting more confident every moment holding out a tin of soup saying "delivery for the invalid?".
"You are such a nerd."
He laughs and Blaine has the audacity to give him a mock salute.
"Hello to you too. I know you said you were contagious or whatever, but I thought- I just wanted to see you, it's been too long and-"
Blaine's gaze flicks up and down him, just for a second and Kurt can see the moment he sees the kilt.
It's a refreshing change for his clothes to be the last, rather than the first thing people notice.
Blaine's still in his uniform, he's obviously come straight from Dalton -and yes, it is nearly half four, how did it get so late?- and his tie is hanging loose around his neck.
Suddenly, he feels very self-conscious about wearing a kilt. Not even Karofsky's leering (not that that's happened for days, weeks now) makes him think twice about his clothes, but this?
"- can I come in, I shouldn't be making you stand around outside when you're ill."
Kurt shuffles backwards, making a conscious effort not to pat down his kilt. It's just an item of clothing, and not even the same one. He doesn't want to think about Prom. He doesn't want Blaine to either. He just wants to forget about it. He's still got the crown buried deep in his closet (ironic) and his name's still engraved in the cabinet at school.
He starts coughing, and Christ he knows he looks awful when he's ill fashionista that he is regardless, and staggers back to his little nest on the sofa. He expects Blaine to follow him, possibly to wrap his arm around his shoulders and distract him by telling him what Wes said at their last Warbler meeting.
Instead there's a clattering of metal from the kitchen.
"You were serious about that soup?"
Blaine laughs and the microwave beeps.
"Of course I was, I take taking care of you as a very serious occupation, this is quality soup you know? Cost me a whole four dollars."
Kurt laughs again, tucking his legs up underneath his kilt letting the heavy material rest over his knees.
"Glad to know how much I'm worth to you."
Blaine laughs this time, and Kurt smiles, not worrying about the stare of the kitchen, what harm can soup do?
"Leave it in the microwave could you Blaine? I'll have some later but I don't want to eat right now, been making prayers to the porcelain god."
It's not an amused laugh this time, it's more pitying than that, and Blaine comes out of the kitchen with a "oh Kurt" on his lips.
He gets the hug that he was expecting, leaning bodily against Blaine's chest- he feels ridiculously safe there.
Blaine isn't touching his hair, not in so many words but his hand is bracketing the nape of his neck.
Blaine's in the middle of discussing Thad and Jeff's idea to take a road trip when Kurt moves, settling himself from sitting up to lying down. When Blaine hesitates for a second and then begins carding a hand through his hair he sighs and can't bring himself to feel embarrassed that his face his resting against Blaine's stomach.
"What are you doing here anyway Blaine? Not that I'm not happy to see you... but?"
He can feel Blaine shrug, and he still can't quite believe he's allowed to feel this. He was sure that he'd have to wait until he'd busted Lima wide open.
"Just passing by, was planning on taking my boyfriend out to coffee. Maybe you've met him? Sharp dresser, gorgeous, brilliant singing voice? But he wasn't feeling too well-"
Kurt smiles, and wonders if Blaine can feel it through his shirt- he'd lost the jacket between the door and the sofa, and he supposes that it's flung over one of the kitchen chairs.
"Need I be jealous?"
"You know what? I think you can take him."
It's one of Blaine's wonderfully real compliments, the one's that he's not trying too hard to be romantic, and Kurt doesn't want to say anything to take away from what Blaine just said -inside he's glowing- but Blaine is one of the people he wants to be executive designer ready for, not just himself and his clothes are so important to his identity.
"Even in today's head-turner of an outfit?"
He flicks his fingers over his blouse to his. He settles his hand over the waist of his kilt.
And he knows that it was the worst turn of phrase he could have used, but there's a kiss pressed to his forehead.
"Especially in today's outfit."
And Kurt smiles into Blaine's stomach as he feels his boyfriend flick one of the pleats of his kilt from finger to finger.
His other hand stops its movement in his hair and joins the hand Kurt has left resting against Blaine's thigh. He interlaces their fingers.
Maybe he doesn’t have to take Blaine to LA after all.
Fandom: Glee
Author: phantomreviewer
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
A/N:: Title from The Magnetic Field’s “When My Boy Walks Down The Street” (I love this song and I keep envisioning Blaine singing it to Kurt, it doesn’t come into the fic but it might do in the future.) Sorry for any Britishism. (I never thought I’d have to warn for that! So used to my little 100 members Brit fandoms).
Summary: It’s the first time that Kurt wears a kilt in Blaine’s presence after the Prom fiasco. Kurt worries. Blaine brings soup.
The next time Blaine sees Kurt in a kilt it's an accident. Well, not so much of an accident because it will be a day when hell freezes over that Kurt Hummel has a fashion 'accident', but Kurt doesn't plan on letting Blaine see him in it.
(Or out of it, easy is certainly not what Kurt is going for, and love Blaine as he well might admit to in the privacy of his own thoughts, but his thoughts aren't quite that... interesting yet.)
Even though he knew he could pull off a kilt, -and had done before the debacle that was Junior Prom- and he wasn't going to let the bigots in his grade take away a whole varied undercarriage option, he wasn't sure Blaine would agree.
Blaine could -would, Kurt insisted on it- learn to appreciate the swish of a kilt in New York, in LA, in Pennsylvania, somewhere that wasn't Lima and didn't have him looking over his shoulder when he thought Kurt didn't notice.
Somewhere more cosmopolitan.
The reason Kurt is wearing a kilt now however, has very little to do with appreciation or acceptance or even really fashion. He's not feeling well.
Burt, that morning had registered Kurt's lethargic movements, and the fact that his dressing gown was still wrapped around him and had sent him back to bed.
Kurt supposed it could have been food poisoning, but he'd not accepted any food off Noah and, had it been the canteen Finn would be the one throwing his guts up, not him. Finn had smiled apologetically at Kurt before he'd left with a "yeah, apologise to Glee, I know. I'm going before you hurl bro."
Carole sent him a look that told him to get back to bed, you might be 17 and not my biological son but young man you better do what I say and Kurt nodded. He pulled himself from the kitchen and turned back to the stairs.
His bed was comfortable when he settled onto it. In the darkness he fished around for how iPhone, wincing as the light hit his eyes.
He rattled off a text to Blaine
Can't make coffee after school 2day, come down with a bug/virus thing. Don't want to infect you. Miss you. Kurt
And after pressing send, he fell asleep.
His phone declares the time as two forty six when Kurt eventually woke up.
The first thing he notes is that he's still wearing his dressing gown and the second is that he feels, better?
Getting out of bed isn't quite the challenge that it was earlier and like a homing pigeon he makes his way to his closet.
Something loose and the only people he'll be seeing will be his dad, Finn and Carole and whilst he might love them all, none of them (except perhaps Carole, and even then...) will notice if he forges the normal Paris runway quality. He can deal with, on a sick day, only resembling a third year fashion degree student.
He decides on a kilt, royal blue and heavy that he'd normally pair with high boots or if he were particularly daring his Gaga shoes, but today leggings -light blue, with small white polka dots- combined with slippers will do the job nicely. He's got a cream silk top, that he's sure he remembers Brittany giving him after she said she didn't trust it anyone after what "it did", that be thinks belonged to a set of pyjamas, but now belongs in this ensemble.
There is nothing worth watching on the television- alone in the house as he is, Carole and his dad are still working overtime to make up the expenditure from the Dalton tuition- so it is his iPod and The Great Gatsby the keep him entertained.
He's only sick once more, and when he's making his way back to the living room there comes a knock on the door. Finn could have forgotten his keys, he supposes, or it's a package for his dad.
What he doesn't expect is Blaine. Standing awkwardly on the doorstep but getting more confident every moment holding out a tin of soup saying "delivery for the invalid?".
"You are such a nerd."
He laughs and Blaine has the audacity to give him a mock salute.
"Hello to you too. I know you said you were contagious or whatever, but I thought- I just wanted to see you, it's been too long and-"
Blaine's gaze flicks up and down him, just for a second and Kurt can see the moment he sees the kilt.
It's a refreshing change for his clothes to be the last, rather than the first thing people notice.
Blaine's still in his uniform, he's obviously come straight from Dalton -and yes, it is nearly half four, how did it get so late?- and his tie is hanging loose around his neck.
Suddenly, he feels very self-conscious about wearing a kilt. Not even Karofsky's leering (not that that's happened for days, weeks now) makes him think twice about his clothes, but this?
"- can I come in, I shouldn't be making you stand around outside when you're ill."
Kurt shuffles backwards, making a conscious effort not to pat down his kilt. It's just an item of clothing, and not even the same one. He doesn't want to think about Prom. He doesn't want Blaine to either. He just wants to forget about it. He's still got the crown buried deep in his closet (ironic) and his name's still engraved in the cabinet at school.
He starts coughing, and Christ he knows he looks awful when he's ill fashionista that he is regardless, and staggers back to his little nest on the sofa. He expects Blaine to follow him, possibly to wrap his arm around his shoulders and distract him by telling him what Wes said at their last Warbler meeting.
Instead there's a clattering of metal from the kitchen.
"You were serious about that soup?"
Blaine laughs and the microwave beeps.
"Of course I was, I take taking care of you as a very serious occupation, this is quality soup you know? Cost me a whole four dollars."
Kurt laughs again, tucking his legs up underneath his kilt letting the heavy material rest over his knees.
"Glad to know how much I'm worth to you."
Blaine laughs this time, and Kurt smiles, not worrying about the stare of the kitchen, what harm can soup do?
"Leave it in the microwave could you Blaine? I'll have some later but I don't want to eat right now, been making prayers to the porcelain god."
It's not an amused laugh this time, it's more pitying than that, and Blaine comes out of the kitchen with a "oh Kurt" on his lips.
He gets the hug that he was expecting, leaning bodily against Blaine's chest- he feels ridiculously safe there.
Blaine isn't touching his hair, not in so many words but his hand is bracketing the nape of his neck.
Blaine's in the middle of discussing Thad and Jeff's idea to take a road trip when Kurt moves, settling himself from sitting up to lying down. When Blaine hesitates for a second and then begins carding a hand through his hair he sighs and can't bring himself to feel embarrassed that his face his resting against Blaine's stomach.
"What are you doing here anyway Blaine? Not that I'm not happy to see you... but?"
He can feel Blaine shrug, and he still can't quite believe he's allowed to feel this. He was sure that he'd have to wait until he'd busted Lima wide open.
"Just passing by, was planning on taking my boyfriend out to coffee. Maybe you've met him? Sharp dresser, gorgeous, brilliant singing voice? But he wasn't feeling too well-"
Kurt smiles, and wonders if Blaine can feel it through his shirt- he'd lost the jacket between the door and the sofa, and he supposes that it's flung over one of the kitchen chairs.
"Need I be jealous?"
"You know what? I think you can take him."
It's one of Blaine's wonderfully real compliments, the one's that he's not trying too hard to be romantic, and Kurt doesn't want to say anything to take away from what Blaine just said -inside he's glowing- but Blaine is one of the people he wants to be executive designer ready for, not just himself and his clothes are so important to his identity.
"Even in today's head-turner of an outfit?"
He flicks his fingers over his blouse to his. He settles his hand over the waist of his kilt.
And he knows that it was the worst turn of phrase he could have used, but there's a kiss pressed to his forehead.
"Especially in today's outfit."
And Kurt smiles into Blaine's stomach as he feels his boyfriend flick one of the pleats of his kilt from finger to finger.
His other hand stops its movement in his hair and joins the hand Kurt has left resting against Blaine's thigh. He interlaces their fingers.
Maybe he doesn’t have to take Blaine to LA after all.