51. | you're only as good as
51.
you're only as good as
the next worst thing
mercedes&kurt gen (790 words)
So I was bored and wanted to write and this was just something I was in the mood for~ I have no excuses, no reasoning. There's absolutely no plot, nothing happens, and it doesn't tell you anything you don't know. I am making one of those summaries that is like MY STORY SUCKS, READ IT ANYWAY. Yes. So do it.
"what do you think?" she asks, holding up a shirt and twisting from side to side, and he tilts his head and considers her seriously. she likes that about him -- kurt never tosses a glance her way and says "fine, it looks fine can we go?" he looks at her long and hard, thinks about the colors and the fit and how likely it is she'll really wear it, and she waits patiently until he nods once, sharp and decisive.
"right, no, do it in blue and you're solid." he looks pleased and mercedes looks over at the rack.
"i don't think that shade of blue is good," she says doubtfully, picking her size off and studying it critically. kurt touches the fabric and holds it to her skin, smiling a little.
"no, see, it plays well off of your skin tone. and it brings out the color in your eyes well," he adds, and that's it, she's sold. kurt is going to be the death of her bank account because everything he picks out for her is so expensive, but she does look amazing and besides, she likes it. she likes these afternoons when glee practice is over, the two of them singing along to the songs on her radio and talking about whatever weird thing mr shuester did in class or how rachel is crazy as anything but somehow still amazing.
they chat as they wait in line, kurt admiring all of the clothes in the store with a bit of longing. he's been cut off to only two outfits when he goes shopping by his dad, and mercedes knows it kills him. the lima mall is hardly the cutting edge of fashion, but kurt does surprisingly well for himself, and having to create new ways to mix his clothes, while entertaining, horrifies him. mercedes kind of loves him.
(and it was harder than she let anyone think, to turn the feelings she had for him into friendship, but she thinks of his face, impassive and trembling as he whispered those words to her, and it gets easier. she thinks of him and she lets the affection take over everything else, and it's okay.)
there are people staring at them, of course -- mercedes is used to it herself, but with kurt the stares are almost inevitable. maybe it's because of how confident he is, wearing the clothes he wears and holding his head high through the whispers. mercedes admires him for it, for the strength he can display when he's so clearly vulnerable on the inside. she remembers tears sliding over his cheeks while his face stayed clear and a small curve twisted his mouth into something resembling a smile, that wasn't a smile.
mercedes hooks her arm through his and turns cool stares back towards the people watching them, and they look away. it sparks something in her, something strong and unafraid and unlike the way she used to be, and she knows that it's partly glee, partly the thrill of singing and being seen, of being noticed, but it's more the boy standing next to her. the boy who has the courage to try out for football but is too afraid to tell his father the truth about his sexual orientation. the boy who will throw a slushie into his own face to prove a point and then will complain for an hour about his hair smelling like grape while rachel clucks her tongue and bitches about finn to deaf ears. the boy who is her complete and first best friend, the boy who trusted her first with the secret he hadn't shared with anyone else (it doesn't matter that everyone claimed it wasn't a surprise to them -- kurt had told her, and she holds that close to her and remembers it).
she pays for her shirt and kurt insists she puts it on before they leave the mall. "i want to show you off," he gushes, "and make everyone horribly jealous. you'll look fantastic, trust me, you wore the perfect shoes."
she rolls her eyes but acquiesces, and when she leaves the mall bathrooms she opens her arms wide, ta dah, and he claps. it brings a grin to her face and people around them are still staring, but she absorbs it all like sunshine, bows when kurt falls into a curtsey and giggles with him on the way to her car. she feels like the world belongs to them, like they could do anything. she catches a glimpse of herself in the glass windows outside the building and kurt starts humming absently, the song finn was singing earlier under his breath. she hums along, and thinks:
he's right. she looks fantastic.
you're only as good as
the next worst thing
mercedes&kurt gen (790 words)
So I was bored and wanted to write and this was just something I was in the mood for~ I have no excuses, no reasoning. There's absolutely no plot, nothing happens, and it doesn't tell you anything you don't know. I am making one of those summaries that is like MY STORY SUCKS, READ IT ANYWAY. Yes. So do it.
"what do you think?" she asks, holding up a shirt and twisting from side to side, and he tilts his head and considers her seriously. she likes that about him -- kurt never tosses a glance her way and says "fine, it looks fine can we go?" he looks at her long and hard, thinks about the colors and the fit and how likely it is she'll really wear it, and she waits patiently until he nods once, sharp and decisive.
"right, no, do it in blue and you're solid." he looks pleased and mercedes looks over at the rack.
"i don't think that shade of blue is good," she says doubtfully, picking her size off and studying it critically. kurt touches the fabric and holds it to her skin, smiling a little.
"no, see, it plays well off of your skin tone. and it brings out the color in your eyes well," he adds, and that's it, she's sold. kurt is going to be the death of her bank account because everything he picks out for her is so expensive, but she does look amazing and besides, she likes it. she likes these afternoons when glee practice is over, the two of them singing along to the songs on her radio and talking about whatever weird thing mr shuester did in class or how rachel is crazy as anything but somehow still amazing.
they chat as they wait in line, kurt admiring all of the clothes in the store with a bit of longing. he's been cut off to only two outfits when he goes shopping by his dad, and mercedes knows it kills him. the lima mall is hardly the cutting edge of fashion, but kurt does surprisingly well for himself, and having to create new ways to mix his clothes, while entertaining, horrifies him. mercedes kind of loves him.
(and it was harder than she let anyone think, to turn the feelings she had for him into friendship, but she thinks of his face, impassive and trembling as he whispered those words to her, and it gets easier. she thinks of him and she lets the affection take over everything else, and it's okay.)
there are people staring at them, of course -- mercedes is used to it herself, but with kurt the stares are almost inevitable. maybe it's because of how confident he is, wearing the clothes he wears and holding his head high through the whispers. mercedes admires him for it, for the strength he can display when he's so clearly vulnerable on the inside. she remembers tears sliding over his cheeks while his face stayed clear and a small curve twisted his mouth into something resembling a smile, that wasn't a smile.
mercedes hooks her arm through his and turns cool stares back towards the people watching them, and they look away. it sparks something in her, something strong and unafraid and unlike the way she used to be, and she knows that it's partly glee, partly the thrill of singing and being seen, of being noticed, but it's more the boy standing next to her. the boy who has the courage to try out for football but is too afraid to tell his father the truth about his sexual orientation. the boy who will throw a slushie into his own face to prove a point and then will complain for an hour about his hair smelling like grape while rachel clucks her tongue and bitches about finn to deaf ears. the boy who is her complete and first best friend, the boy who trusted her first with the secret he hadn't shared with anyone else (it doesn't matter that everyone claimed it wasn't a surprise to them -- kurt had told her, and she holds that close to her and remembers it).
she pays for her shirt and kurt insists she puts it on before they leave the mall. "i want to show you off," he gushes, "and make everyone horribly jealous. you'll look fantastic, trust me, you wore the perfect shoes."
she rolls her eyes but acquiesces, and when she leaves the mall bathrooms she opens her arms wide, ta dah, and he claps. it brings a grin to her face and people around them are still staring, but she absorbs it all like sunshine, bows when kurt falls into a curtsey and giggles with him on the way to her car. she feels like the world belongs to them, like they could do anything. she catches a glimpse of herself in the glass windows outside the building and kurt starts humming absently, the song finn was singing earlier under his breath. she hums along, and thinks:
he's right. she looks fantastic.