Parallel Universe
Written for Tumblr's Klaine Advent Challenge (a 100+ word drabble a day)
Prompt #4: Dirt
A/N - Takes place during s4e10 (Glee, Actually)
***
“I’m gonna take a nap,” Mr Hummel said with a groan as he got off the couch. Kurt jumped up, hands dithering, as he watched his father head towards Rachel’s bed.
“Are you okay? Is it-? Do you need anything? What can I-?”
“Relax, Kurt. I ate too much, is all, and it’s a holiday...a man’s allowed to nap,” Mr Hummel grumbled as he wandered away. Kurt wrung his hands as he waited until his father pulled the curtains, and then started fussing, tidying up the stacks of Vogue back issues scattered on the coffee table.
“Hey.” Blaine looked over towards Rachel’s area as his hand caught Kurt’s arm. “We could-? Do you want to lie down as well?” Kurt sighed and plopped back down on the couch.
“I-I don’t know what to do,” Kurt whispered, his voice wavering. Blaine reached over and squeezed his ex-boyfriend’s hand, then considered the pile of magazines in front of them.
“Come on.” Blaine tugged him upright, gathered a bundle of magazines and handed them off to Kurt, then steered him to his own bed. “Show me the stand-outs from the Fall Collection and what’s trending for Spring/Summer.” Kurt protested, albeit, quietly, knowing that Blaine knew the answers to those questions already.
Twenty minutes later, they’d exhausted their respective piles of Vogue and Kurt lay on his stomach, socked feet gently kicking freely as he slumped down to rest his face on his hands. Blaine fell back against the bed on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“If you could be different...still you but not you as you are now, who would you be?” Blaine asked, still figuring out his point even as he finished talking. “I mean, like in a parallel universe, you’re still Kurt Hummel but you’re not this version of yourself.” He looked over at his ex-boyfriend and asked, “Who would you be?” Kurt frowned and stared back at the comforter as he thought of the alternatives.
“I don’t know,” he said with a half-hearted shrug. “What about you? Got any dirt on your parallel self that you’d care to share?” Blaine grinned and rolled his eyes as he went back to looking at the concrete above them.
“I’d be a bad boy,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. “Leather jacket, motor bike, bad attitude, the whole she-bang.” Kurt’s eyes popped wide open as an uncontrolled giggle burst out of him. He slapped a hand over his mouth and composed himself quickly.
“But you’re the nicest person I know! You help old ladies cross the street. You own a cardigan with lobsters on it. You organize food drives for the local food bank. I don’t think you’ve ever gotten a detention. Ever. Or have you? Are you, Blaine Anderson, secretly a bad boy in an exceptionally good disguise?” Kurt rushed out. “Oh my god! Do you have leather pants? Please, Blaine. Please tell me you own leather pants!” Blaine chuckled and screwed up his face as he turned to look at Kurt.
“Uh, yes?” Kurt choked and lifted his chest off the bed.
“You have a pair of leather pants and I haven’t seen them!”
“Yes,” Blaine said as he rolled his eyes playfully. “You don’t know everything about me,” he alluded. “And I have had detention,” he muttered. “In middle school.” Kurt smacked Blaine’s shoulder insistently.
“Blaine, you have to show me! Oh, that would be so hot.” Kurt wiggled on the bed and jerked his hand back once he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, aesthetically, of course.” Blaine laughed to himself and let it drop.
“Have you figured out who you’d be?” Blaine enquired again. Kurt bounced a little as his feet kicked up.
“Oooh! Yes! I’d be a jock. A burly football player,” he paused in thought, “not the quarterback or the kicker but one of the others.” Kurt waved his hand dismissively.
“Not a cheerleader? Bad boys traditionally go for the cheerleaders, don’t they?” Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“We’d be together?” Blaine side-eyed his ex-boyfriend.
“Uh, yeah?” he retorted. “In what universe wouldn’t we be together? Um, in high school, I mean.”
“Wellll,” Kurt dragged the sound out, “technically, bad boys or girls can be with jocks. Just look at Puck and Lauren.”
“Yeah, but Puck was a bad boy and a jock. I don’t think that counts.”
“Oh no. Lauren Zizes is definitely a Bad Girl. Definitely. And she’d threaten to impale you on a Kit Kat for insinuating otherwise.” Blaine grimaced.
“Isn’t she technically one of the Skanks?”
“Mmm, good point,” Kurt mumbled as he tapped his chin. “You could be a bad boy skank to my football player.”
“Or you could be a cheerleader to my bad boy?”
“Hmm, no. Puck and Quinn. Puck and Mercedes. Puck and Santana. Puck and-”
“Okay! You could be a cheerleader to my skank?” Kurt hummed as he considered the variables. “We’d rule the school in a combination of ferocity and fear,” Blaine said, chuckling as he laid out their roles. “Cheerio Kurt - popular, buff, that tight, tight uniform, uh...and me, Skank Blaine - leather clad, spiked hair, tattooed, pierced, smoking-”
“Hot,” Kurt finished the thought.
“Yeah?” Blaine rolled onto his side; his hand hovering over Kurt’s lower back for a second then letting it drop softly to rest there. Kurt propped his head in his hand and gazed at Blaine.
“Maybe,” Kurt said brazenly.
“Do you still have your uniform?” Blaine asked, dropping his voice in the hush of the apartment.
“Not here.” Kurt pouted and then frowned. “Anyway,” Kurt cleared his throat and stroked the bedspread, “I sincerely doubt you have leather pants in that overnight bag of yours.”
“True,” Blaine said mournfully.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t ... practice our visualization techniques,” Kurt practically purred as he shifted closer and stretched his arm out to pull Blaine in against him.
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Mr Hummel called out from the other side of his curtain. The noise of the curtain whipping open made the two boys jolt apart on the bed.
“Da-ad,” Kurt whined.
“What? Are we gonna down to Rockefeller Center or not?”
Echo>>