Fic: Belly Up
Title: Belly Up
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Original Songs
Warnings: dead frogs
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 1,300
Summary: In which Blaine just isn’t sure he can love someone who wants to play bouncy ball with frog eyeballs.
Notes: Written for this prompt on the fluff meme, mostly because you know that Kurt just loves taking things apart. Cars, sweaters, frogs… Not really betaed, but thanks as always to boysinperil .
When their biology teacher announced that next week they’d be dissecting frogs, the entire room erupted into cheers. With the exception of one Blaine Anderson.
He’d been holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, they would stick to looking at pictures of all the ugly, creepy little frog organs in the book and they wouldn’t have to actually cut anything open. Who did that in this day and age, really? It was barbaric. It was inhumane. Someone should call PETA and start protesting because those poor frogs hadn’t done anything to deserve the looks of malicious glee on his classmates’ faces. He fully planned on informing his teacher about all of this as well, because really, someone had to think of the amphibians. Wes clearly wasn’t, if his high five with David was anything to go by.
Blaine turned to Kurt, expecting to find his boyfriend with an expression of absolute disgust on his face. There was no way Kurt would stand for this. Kurt hated messes. Just the other day, Kurt had spent ten minutes yelling at Nick and Trent for mixing all of their food together into a disgusting mush at dinner. (Blaine had actually thought that one was funny, especially after they added the Tabasco sauce to turn the entire thing into a giant volcano.) If Kurt thought that mixing different types of food was disgusting, he was sure to feel the same way about dissecting frogs.
Instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, Kurt was leaning forward to inform Nick that “I heard their eyeballs bounce.”
“Seriously?” Nick asked.
Kurt nodded. “My step-brother dissected a frog a couple weeks ago. He said they’re just like bouncy balls.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I know, right?”
Kurt turned back to Blaine, smiling. His happy expression faltered when Blaine crossed his arm, pouting. “What’s wrong?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t want to dissect frogs,” Blaine said.
“Why not?” Kurt asked. “It’s fun.”
Blaine raised his eyebrows. “How can you say that? It’s not fun. It’s the opposite of fun. It’s… it’s like a root canal.”
Kurt blinked at him, brows drawing together. “A root canal?” he asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Have you had a root canal? They’re awful. There is nothing fun or awesome about root canals.” Blaine nodded emphatically, certain that he’d made his point.
Kurt still just looked confused. “I don’t understand what a root canal has to do with dissecting frogs.”
“It’s an analogy, Kurt.”
“So… you don’t want to dissect the frog?” Kurt asked, still confused.
“No. Dissecting them is awful. Like a root canal.”
Mentioning the root canals again was just making Kurt more confused, if his skeptical expression was anything to go by. He finally shook his head as the bell rang and everyone started gathering up their belongings. “I still don’t get it,” Kurt said. “Dissecting frogs is fun. Their eyeballs bounce.”
Blaine had to spend all of lunch trying to explain why dissecting helpless animals was inherently wrong and not at all “fun”. When he and Kurt parted ways for their next class, he still wasn’t sure Kurt understood the gravity of what they were going to be doing in Biology next week, but he was pretty sure he’d convinced Trent. Trent looked ill at any mention of frogs, tadpoles, and lakes for the rest of the day.
Baby steps. Blaine couldn’t educate all of the Warblers in the space of one thirty minute lunch period.
Now he just had to find a way to get out of doing this dissection.
*
First, Blaine tried asking his biology teacher to be excused from the lesson. He would do make-up work. He’d write an essay or make a powerpoint, a really long one. He’d do anything as long as it meant he didn’t have to dissect a frog.
His teacher didn’t even feign sympathy. “Just watch your group if you’re squeamish about it,” he suggested. “You won’t lose points for not actually touching it.”
Next, Blaine tried faking illness. The morning of the dissection he came down with a terrible flu. Absolutely terrible. His temperature was sky high, thanks to the combination of an old mercury thermometer he’d scrounged up and a hot light bulb. The nurse had eyed the thermometer that Blaine offered as proof of his illness dubiously-possibly because he’d held it to the light bulb for too long and it said his temperature was 103 degrees-and then stuck a digital thermometer in his ear.
98.6 degrees. He got sent back to class with a reprimand to stop wasting her time.
When it came time for the actual dissection, Blaine tried to avoid looking at the frogs. He kept pulling his latex gloves up higher as he eyed the trays containing the poor, defenseless, dead frogs. They’d never even had a chance in life. Never gotten to hop from lily pad to lily pad and eat flies and meet other frogs and have little tadpoles. Poor, poor frogs…
Kurt, Nick, and Jeff were more than enthusiastic enough to take over the actual dissection. The look of anticipation on Kurt’s face as he raised the knife was almost enough to make Blaine reevaluate their relationship. How could he love someone who could take sure pleasure in the pain of others?
He’d made a mistake in looking at the knife though. Now Blaine couldn’t look away. His gaze was locked onto the frog like a tractor beam as Kurt kept slicing and revealing more of the frogs… innards. Nick and Jeff were leaning over, trying to get a better look while Kurt griped at them about blocking his light.
It was too hot. It was way too hot. Someone must have turned up the heat or something because Blaine was suddenly sweating, the back of his oxford shirt sticking to his skin unpleasantly. He felt drained, like all of his strength had just been sucked out of him and oh, he needed to sit down. He really needed to sit down. It was getting kind of dark and there were black spots dancing around the edges of his vision.
Blaine sank to his knees, putting a hand out to avoid falling face-first onto the floor. He couldn’t actually see the floor anymore but that was okay, he could still feel it. The tile felt really nice and cold against his overheated skin. Someone was calling his name but he couldn’t tell who. He was just gonna lay down here for a minute. Just until he cooled off…
*
Blaine woke up lying on the floor with his head in Kurt’s lap as he smoothed Blaine’s hair back from his face. “Wha…” Blaine tried to ask. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.
“Oh thank god,” Kurt said. “He’s awake,” he called to someone else.
“What happened?” Blaine asked as Kurt helped him sit up.
“You passed out,” Kurt told him, his hand still on Blaine’s shoulder, steadying him. “Not for very long, though. It would have been more dramatic if you’d actually swooned, but I’ll give you points for having the sense to lie down before you fell down.”
“Um, thanks,” Blaine said.
“You’re welcome.”
The biology teacher was hovering over Blaine now, with what looked like half the Warblers standing behind him. “Are you okay, Mr. Anderson?”
“Uh…”
“You didn’t hit your head, did you? Break anything? Have plans to sue?”
Blaine raised a hand to feel at his head. It felt pretty intact. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”
“Oh, that’s good,” the teacher said. “Let’s get you up then.” He and Kurt started helping Blaine to his feet.
Blaine looked up at the lab table above him that still held the dissection tray. “I don’t have to dissect anything else, do I?” he asked.
“Oh no, of course not!” the teacher reassured him.
“Oh good,” Blaine said. “I really don’t like dissecting frogs.”
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Original Songs
Warnings: dead frogs
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 1,300
Summary: In which Blaine just isn’t sure he can love someone who wants to play bouncy ball with frog eyeballs.
Notes: Written for this prompt on the fluff meme, mostly because you know that Kurt just loves taking things apart. Cars, sweaters, frogs… Not really betaed, but thanks as always to boysinperil .
When their biology teacher announced that next week they’d be dissecting frogs, the entire room erupted into cheers. With the exception of one Blaine Anderson.
He’d been holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, they would stick to looking at pictures of all the ugly, creepy little frog organs in the book and they wouldn’t have to actually cut anything open. Who did that in this day and age, really? It was barbaric. It was inhumane. Someone should call PETA and start protesting because those poor frogs hadn’t done anything to deserve the looks of malicious glee on his classmates’ faces. He fully planned on informing his teacher about all of this as well, because really, someone had to think of the amphibians. Wes clearly wasn’t, if his high five with David was anything to go by.
Blaine turned to Kurt, expecting to find his boyfriend with an expression of absolute disgust on his face. There was no way Kurt would stand for this. Kurt hated messes. Just the other day, Kurt had spent ten minutes yelling at Nick and Trent for mixing all of their food together into a disgusting mush at dinner. (Blaine had actually thought that one was funny, especially after they added the Tabasco sauce to turn the entire thing into a giant volcano.) If Kurt thought that mixing different types of food was disgusting, he was sure to feel the same way about dissecting frogs.
Instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, Kurt was leaning forward to inform Nick that “I heard their eyeballs bounce.”
“Seriously?” Nick asked.
Kurt nodded. “My step-brother dissected a frog a couple weeks ago. He said they’re just like bouncy balls.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I know, right?”
Kurt turned back to Blaine, smiling. His happy expression faltered when Blaine crossed his arm, pouting. “What’s wrong?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t want to dissect frogs,” Blaine said.
“Why not?” Kurt asked. “It’s fun.”
Blaine raised his eyebrows. “How can you say that? It’s not fun. It’s the opposite of fun. It’s… it’s like a root canal.”
Kurt blinked at him, brows drawing together. “A root canal?” he asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Have you had a root canal? They’re awful. There is nothing fun or awesome about root canals.” Blaine nodded emphatically, certain that he’d made his point.
Kurt still just looked confused. “I don’t understand what a root canal has to do with dissecting frogs.”
“It’s an analogy, Kurt.”
“So… you don’t want to dissect the frog?” Kurt asked, still confused.
“No. Dissecting them is awful. Like a root canal.”
Mentioning the root canals again was just making Kurt more confused, if his skeptical expression was anything to go by. He finally shook his head as the bell rang and everyone started gathering up their belongings. “I still don’t get it,” Kurt said. “Dissecting frogs is fun. Their eyeballs bounce.”
Blaine had to spend all of lunch trying to explain why dissecting helpless animals was inherently wrong and not at all “fun”. When he and Kurt parted ways for their next class, he still wasn’t sure Kurt understood the gravity of what they were going to be doing in Biology next week, but he was pretty sure he’d convinced Trent. Trent looked ill at any mention of frogs, tadpoles, and lakes for the rest of the day.
Baby steps. Blaine couldn’t educate all of the Warblers in the space of one thirty minute lunch period.
Now he just had to find a way to get out of doing this dissection.
*
First, Blaine tried asking his biology teacher to be excused from the lesson. He would do make-up work. He’d write an essay or make a powerpoint, a really long one. He’d do anything as long as it meant he didn’t have to dissect a frog.
His teacher didn’t even feign sympathy. “Just watch your group if you’re squeamish about it,” he suggested. “You won’t lose points for not actually touching it.”
Next, Blaine tried faking illness. The morning of the dissection he came down with a terrible flu. Absolutely terrible. His temperature was sky high, thanks to the combination of an old mercury thermometer he’d scrounged up and a hot light bulb. The nurse had eyed the thermometer that Blaine offered as proof of his illness dubiously-possibly because he’d held it to the light bulb for too long and it said his temperature was 103 degrees-and then stuck a digital thermometer in his ear.
98.6 degrees. He got sent back to class with a reprimand to stop wasting her time.
When it came time for the actual dissection, Blaine tried to avoid looking at the frogs. He kept pulling his latex gloves up higher as he eyed the trays containing the poor, defenseless, dead frogs. They’d never even had a chance in life. Never gotten to hop from lily pad to lily pad and eat flies and meet other frogs and have little tadpoles. Poor, poor frogs…
Kurt, Nick, and Jeff were more than enthusiastic enough to take over the actual dissection. The look of anticipation on Kurt’s face as he raised the knife was almost enough to make Blaine reevaluate their relationship. How could he love someone who could take sure pleasure in the pain of others?
He’d made a mistake in looking at the knife though. Now Blaine couldn’t look away. His gaze was locked onto the frog like a tractor beam as Kurt kept slicing and revealing more of the frogs… innards. Nick and Jeff were leaning over, trying to get a better look while Kurt griped at them about blocking his light.
It was too hot. It was way too hot. Someone must have turned up the heat or something because Blaine was suddenly sweating, the back of his oxford shirt sticking to his skin unpleasantly. He felt drained, like all of his strength had just been sucked out of him and oh, he needed to sit down. He really needed to sit down. It was getting kind of dark and there were black spots dancing around the edges of his vision.
Blaine sank to his knees, putting a hand out to avoid falling face-first onto the floor. He couldn’t actually see the floor anymore but that was okay, he could still feel it. The tile felt really nice and cold against his overheated skin. Someone was calling his name but he couldn’t tell who. He was just gonna lay down here for a minute. Just until he cooled off…
*
Blaine woke up lying on the floor with his head in Kurt’s lap as he smoothed Blaine’s hair back from his face. “Wha…” Blaine tried to ask. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.
“Oh thank god,” Kurt said. “He’s awake,” he called to someone else.
“What happened?” Blaine asked as Kurt helped him sit up.
“You passed out,” Kurt told him, his hand still on Blaine’s shoulder, steadying him. “Not for very long, though. It would have been more dramatic if you’d actually swooned, but I’ll give you points for having the sense to lie down before you fell down.”
“Um, thanks,” Blaine said.
“You’re welcome.”
The biology teacher was hovering over Blaine now, with what looked like half the Warblers standing behind him. “Are you okay, Mr. Anderson?”
“Uh…”
“You didn’t hit your head, did you? Break anything? Have plans to sue?”
Blaine raised a hand to feel at his head. It felt pretty intact. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”
“Oh, that’s good,” the teacher said. “Let’s get you up then.” He and Kurt started helping Blaine to his feet.
Blaine looked up at the lab table above him that still held the dissection tray. “I don’t have to dissect anything else, do I?” he asked.
“Oh no, of course not!” the teacher reassured him.
“Oh good,” Blaine said. “I really don’t like dissecting frogs.”