Fic: Calculus is of the Devil
“Calculus is of the devil,” Kurt announced, barging into the practice room where Blaine sat straight-backed at the piano.
“I told you to drop that class weeks ago.” He didn’t have to turn around to know he was getting a look.
Kurt dropped his bag and slid down the wall. “You fail at being supportive.”
“And you fail at proofs. Which is why I told you to drop the class. You’re studying music performance and marketing, Kurt. Why in hell would you put yourself through the pain of college calculus?” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “And more importantly, why would you put me through the pain of getting you through college calculus?”
Blaine finally turned around and found Kurt slumped on the floor, looking crumpled and dazed.
“The last drop day is tomorrow. I know your password, Kurt. If you don’t do it, I will.”
“How do you know my password?”
“Because I know how your brain works. Let me see… ‘I less than three a Warbler’?”
Kurt blushed. “I hate you.”
“You love me. Your password says so.”
“Stupid password. I’ll drop the class. Tonight. After the concert.”
Blaine groaned and turned back to the piano.
“You’ll be great,” Kurt said from his place on the floor.
Blaine groaned again and dropped his head to the shiny black surface of the piano.
“I don’t get why you’re nervous about tonight. As many times as you’ve performed, this should be nothing to you.”
“Because I’m a freshman in college. And I’m singing the lead part that I stole from a senior. And half the group hates my guts.”
“And the other half loves your guts. I’m in that half, by the way. Even though I still hate the rest of you.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Plus, you didn’t steal anything. You auditioned like everyone else and were awarded a part. You deserve it. You’re amazing, Blaine.” Kurt pushed himself up off the floor and moved to sit beside Blaine on the piano bench. “I love you.” He leaned in to kiss Blaine’s temple.
“I thought you hated me.”
He shrugged. “I paused the hatred.”
Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt, who wrapped both arms around him and squeezed.
“Blaine Warbler, you’re going to perform the hell out of that concert tonight. Now, give me a preview.” He motioned Blaine up and reached for the play button.
He could see the change in Blaine as soon as the first notes sounded, and by the time he opened his mouth to sing, all traces of anxiety had disappeared.
Kurt beamed up at him from his place at the piano. “That’s it,” he breathed, as the last notes faded away. “Sing just like that tonight - exactly like that - and no one will question your solos ever again.”
Blaine collapsed beside him on the piano bench and laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Thank you, Kurt. You’re the best.”
“I’m fully aware. I’m teaching a class next Saturday. You should sign up.”
“Brat,” he said, poking at Kurt’s ribs, then leaning in to capture Kurt’s smug smile. Kurt ran a hand through his hair, pulling him closer, and for a few fleeting moments, the pressures of the day faded and it was just the two of them, there, in that space.
“Yeah, but I’m your brat,” Kurt whispered when they finally surfaced. He reached to brush back a wayward curl.
“Thank God. Now let’s get out of here for a few hours. I need to see the sunshine.”
***
Blaine bounded out the front doors of the fine arts building, Kurt doing his best to keep up.
“Hey, let’s go play frisbee!” Blaine bounced excitedly as Kurt descended the last two stairs and fixed him with a withering look.
“Frisbee? Really? Honey, does it look like I’m wearing the proper footwear for sports?”
“Baby, do you even own the proper footwear for sports?”
“Depends. Do you consider power shopping a sport?”
“Um, no. Ok, so no frisbee.” Blaine pouted a little.
Kurt took his hand and pulled him in the direction of the quad. “I’m sure there’s someone around for you to play with. I’ll camp out under a tree and watch.”
“You sure? Because yay.” Blaine swung their joined hands back and forth.
“Absolutely. I wholly support the idea of you burning off a little of this energy.” They exchanged a look, and Kurt winked playfully.
“So, how were your other classes this morning? Besides the evil calculus.”
“Oh, fine. We got the lit prof to do the voices again. Candide is exponentially more awesome when read with a crazy French accent.”
“I’m sure. And your marketing class? Was mister flirtypants there today?”
“No, thank God. Rumor has it he dropped the class out of embarrassment. Guess the t-shirt did the trick.”
“Told you.” Blaine had taken a sharpie to one of Kurt’s high school t-shirts, editing ‘Likes Boys’ to read ‘Likes Blaine’. He’d even dotted the ‘I’ with a little heart, much to Kurt’s chagrin. “And be glad I was right, because my next step was to write ‘Property of Blaine Anderson’ on your forehead in permanent marker.”
Kurt laughed. “Thank God it didn’t come to that, then.” He squeezed Blaine’s hand.
They neared the quad and veered toward a group tossing frisbees back and forth. Blaine recognized a few of the guys from their dorm and waved. “Mind if I join you?” he shouted. They responded with a chorus of invitations.
Blaine handed over his bag and ran to join the group, while Kurt settled himself under a shade tree. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he watched as Blaine played.