through the looking glass 1/8
title: through the looking glass
summary: blaine believed. blaine believed so much that he didn't doubt for a second that this guy making out with him was not his boyfriend. why can't doppelgangers just stay in their parallel universes?
rating: T
genre: borderline crack
pairing: klaine, altverse kinn, blina
warnings: n/a
notes: written for a prompt over the kurt_blaine prompt meme -- also completely wacky, so please be warned.
chapter one: teasing thursday
Blaine's most embarrassing yearbook picture featured him in middle school with guyliner, pimples and a pentagram around his neck. It was a phase, okay? Everyone went through them, and if Blaine still curled up with Supernatural after a long day nobody needed to know. Blaine's parents were religious and sort of frowned on devil-worship, so it was a big fuck you to them.
Or something.
Really though, a combo of hot guys and monsters and magic should have been the only explanation anyone needed. Blaine had been corrupted at a young age by late night reruns of David Duchovny's charming mug and well, he believed.
See Blaine knew, as well as he knew his own name and the location of every single Gap within a hundred mile radius that the supernatural and science fiction-type things really existed. Kurt found the whole thing kinda endearing, but Blaine knew Kurt also thought Blaine was kinda crazy.
Bottom line, as was important to this moment? Blaine knew Kurt and he knew the unknown and he knew the guy currently shoving their tongue down his throat while groping his ass was not his boyfriend.
"Woah!" Blaine pulled back, coughing slightly. Never not appreciating air again, duly noted. "You're eager."
"Blaine Anderson is kissing me with his hot bod all up against mine," not-Kurt purred, skeezing it up against the door frame like he wanted to mate with it. "Unexpected, but not something I'd turn down. Especially since Finn didn't want to join me in the shower." Not-Kurt pouted, looking confused. Blaine tasted his lips. Nope, no sulphur. That left a personality transplant or doppelgangers, and Blaine knew which he was favouring.
Then not-Kurt was all over him again, hands down the back of Blaine's pants (thank god he hadn't gone commando today) and had slipped a thigh between Blaine's. Blaine pushed him off, a little distracted because sinister twin or not that was way hot, and tried to look casual while taking two large steps back. "Take a hint, I'm not in the mood."
"Oh c'mon. I'll put you in the mood," not-Kurt said with a flutter of his lashes. His hair was parted the wrong way. Parallel universe?
"And the award of World's Pushiest goes to ..." Blaine put on his best disappointed dad face. He kicked ass at it.
Not-Kurt clasped his hands to his chest like a southern belle. "Oh my, I'm so sorry. How ever can I get you to forgive me?" Sarcastic-Kurt was funny. Sarcastic-not-Kurt made Blaine's fingers itch for some salt and holy water. Though -- doppelgangers. Shit, what had Martin Mystery said was the best way to deal with those when Diana met hers?
All Blaine could remember was stupid internet porn jokes about how it was okay to have sex with your doppelganger as long as you killed them afterwards. Not helpful. It did make him laugh a little, and not-Kurt laughed back. He had an evil laugh.
"You didn't slit my Kurt's throat after sex, did you?" And wow, really not what Blaine had meant to blurt. Especially when they were still in the entryway of Kurt's house and Blaine had half-shouted that and an elderly neighbour was frowning disapprovingly from next door. Awk-ward.
"Your Kurt?" Not-Kurt waved at the neighbour but stepped back to let Blaine in. He looked more confused than sinister at the moment, but Blaine didn't care. You couldn't trust a soulless doppelganger or a ginger, everyone knew that -- jesus, if not-Kurt was from a parallel universe, just imagine what Ms Pillsbury would be like there. Shudders. "I'm starting to think things aren't quite right."
"You said it." Blaine looked around the tastefully appointed living room for some kind of weapon. Where was Burt's shotgun? "What exactly did you do today, other than try to give Finn a back scrub?"
"No, I tried to have sex with him. Duh." Not-Kurt rolled his eyes and Blaine rolled them back, carefully keeping many feet between them. The front door was still open, which gave him an escape route. Excellent. "But last thing I remember is falling into bed and thinking it felt a lot like I was actually falling, and waking up without Finn. Which sucked. And not in a good way. Good as in sexy." Blaine was starting to suspect that Kurt's evil twin had none of Kurt's wit. He did have a nipple ring though, a small bump against the thin silk of Kurt's shirt, which was -- well, yeah. Pretty awesome actually.
"When was the last time you got your bed checked for inter-dimensional portals?" Blaine asked. He really should have been doing these sort of checkups regularly with his Kurt, but when they were near Kurt's bed he didn't do a whole lot of thinking. Whoops.
"Anderson, you're being awfully nerdy --" not-Kurt stopped with a gasp. "I'm in another dimension? I can't miss school though! I wanted to make Karofsky lick my boots clean."
"Parallel universe and TMI." Blaine replied, thoughtfully glancing at the stairs. Then he paused. "That would make a cool bandname."
"Excuse me, can we get back to the whole parallel universe thing?" Not-Kurt looked around, panicked. "I bet I'm not even cool here, or something equally tragic. And I did notice a suspicious lack of leather pants, I'm probably a virgin. Oh god, tell me I'm not a virgin."
"Sorry." Blaine shrugged. "Well, at least I hope you are. Is it presumptuous to assume that your boyfriend who thinks touching fingertips is as sexy as it gets is a virgin?"
"Kill me now." Not-Kurt melodramatically threw himself down on the couch, hands covering his face. "A virgin. An uncool virgin in boring old jeans. Please tell me this is a nightmare."
"I like Kurt's jeans," Blaine defended hotly. They were a feature of many of his alone times after all. "And no, it isn't. I wish it was though. If you're here, that means Kurt's over there, and I'm not liking the sound of your evil parallel universe at all."
"It's not evil!" Not-Kurt defended. "Well actually," he tilted his head to the side in a way that would be adorable if it was Kurt but as was just came across as the most sinister of slants. "It kinda is. But a delicious evil, like chocolate-dipped strawberries and bondage. That was my sixteenth birthday party. I bet this loser virgin spent it alone."
"Can we stop making fun of Kurt?" Blaine was getting really annoyed with this guy. He wasn't just evil, he was irritating as hell. "Come on, you need to show me the bed. If the portal is still open, I'm taking you back home and rescuing Kurt from not-Finn's perverted clutches."
"Who would want to be rescued from those?" Not-Kurt asked saucily, writhing around on the living room couch like he was trying to seal the deal with a supposed duke. Oh great. Now Blaine was imagining Kurt in Satine's racy black lingerie, and the mental image both aroused and terrified him. Especially when not-Finn entered the picture in a tux. Where was the mind bleach when you needed it?
"I would have thought the proposal of a bed would have appealed to your horndog act."
"Oh?" Not-Kurt sat up brightly then jumped to his feet, bouncing over to Blaine's side. "Does this mean you're going to let me score?" Not-Kurt's hands were up and under Blaine's shirt before he could blink, and he had to applaud his speediness. However, since not-Kurt was ... not Kurt, and there was a high risk that he would tear Blaine's heart out and eat it, Blaine grabbed not-Kurt's arms and yanked the wandering hands away.
"No," Blaine said as if to a bad puppy. Maybe the newspaper on the coffee table could be used as a weapon, in that case. "No touching, no groping, no fondling. We're just going to go in and out as quickly as we can."
"That's what I said," not-Kurt leered, and Blaine had to laugh. He had totally set himself up for that one.
"Okay, I'll give you that. But let's just get you home, alright?"
"Please do. Loser virgin doesn't even have strawberry lube, can you believe it?"
"Well, I always pictured him more as the cherry type, so ..."
***
Blaine and not-Kurt were in Kurt's bedroom, not-Kurt lounging on the bed and fingering Kurt's furry throw and Blaine sitting at Kurt's desk giving into despair. He and Kurt should have been driving to school by this point, Kurt playing Texting Thursday by responding to everything Blaine said with a text that Blaine couldn't check until they were parked. Blaine liked to call it Teasing Thursday. Kurt said that sounded too sexy, but that was the point.
The bed wasn't a portal. At least, not anymore. He and not-Kurt had bounced on it until not-Kurt started to moan. Not-Kurt claimed that it was a Pavlovian reaction to the sound of a headboard banging off the wall, but Blaine was pretty sure not-Kurt, being evil, just wanted to fuck with him. Or fuck him. Or both.
Now, at a loss for anything else to do and Blaine trying to calm his freakout over what his poor Kurt was going through at the moment, they had started swapping stories. Not-Kurt quickly turned things sexual. Well, Blaine did first, by sharing one of his Kurt's-tight-jeans fantasies, but that was beside the point. Way beside.
"So right about this time I would be on my knees for Finn --" not-Kurt was cut off by Blaine's yelp.
"I like Kurt's mouth very much, stop trying to ruin it for me!" Blaine thought about it some more. "And ew, you kissed me, which means I gave Finn a blowjob by proxy."
"Feel blessed." Not-Kurt winked in the sleeziest of ways and Blaine picked up one of the pillows that had fallen off the bed and tossed it at him.
"God Anderson, way to be a brat --" not-Kurt grabbed his own pillow, but was cut off by Finn opening the door and poking his head in. "Oh hell-o, my tall drink of water."
"Kurt, before school I wanna talk about what happened ear--" Finn cut himself off there, and Blaine worried if there was a monster eating the ends of sentences around. Then he realized that how to act around the guy who tried to get sexual with you and who was now with his boyfriend was probably not in Miss Manner's book on proper behaviour in social situations.
Hmm, not-Kurt and Finn getting sexual. Not-Kurt and not-Finn getting sexual. What had not-Kurt just said ...
"Finn! You need to let not-Kurt give you a blowjob!" Blaine really needed to check that blurting problem. Did they have doctors for that?
"Uh." Finn made a confused face, and Blaine barely resisted a call-the-presses joke. Finn had every right to look like that.
"Wow, you're really looking out for me!" Not-Kurt squealed, clapping his hands together in delight. "Funny, since my Anderson is a little bitch."
"Uh."
"No, I meant, just act like you would. Not-Kurt, where would your knees be about now?" Blaine jumped to his feet, yanking not-Kurt to his and rushing to the door, where Finn looked twice as wooden as he stared in shock.
"Firmly planted on Finn's bedroom floor," not-Kurt answered, while pawing at Finn's biceps excitedly. Finn began to back away but Blaine and not-Kurt followed, each grabbing hold of one of Finn's arm and beginning to yank him down the hall.
"Excellent. Finn, we need to open a portal to save Kurt, and we can't do that if you just stand there!" Despite the obvious math of small Blaine plus small not-Kurt equalling more than big Finn, they couldn't seem to get the lunk to move.
"Save Kurt?" Finn perked up at that. "But he's right there."
"This is not Kurt. I call him not-Kurt. He's from a parallel dimension."
"Like in Futurama, when they come to the end of their universe and on the other side is them in cowboy hats?" Finn squinted in thought, and Blaine rewarded him with a smile. Finn started to move, letting them drag him down the hall.
"Exactly. Except, no cowboys."
"I once wore assless chaps to school," Kurt commented, wiggling his rear. "With nothing but a thong underneath."
"There is no way that's Kurt," Finn agreed, as they stood outside his bedroom door. Blaine ushered them in, not-Kurt pouting that he was all Kurt, all over and Finn trying to hide behind Blaine, which didn't really work but was hella cute.
"Okay not-Kurt, assume the position," Blaine ordered, backing off a little to give them space. Finn winced as not-Kurt shut the door with a click and pushed him up against it.
"So, uh, my pants will stay on, right?" Finn asked nervously, as not-Kurt kneeled and made an obscene guesture with his tongue at Finn's crotch. "I mean, I'm all for helping my brother from another mother, but I'm not really comfortable with this."
Blaine would have put a stop to all this, because not-Kurt was so very predatory gay, but his Kurt was in danger and sacrifices needed to be made.
"Yes, your pants will stay on." Blaine promised, stepping closer so he could grab not-Kurt's hair when it looked like he was about to dive at Finn's crotch. Not-Kurt moaned under the hold but Blaine nobly didn't let go, his other hand coming up to pat Finn's arm comfortingly.
Not-Kurt reached out at the same time, sliding a hand behind Finn's knee, and when they were all touching a spark seemed to zing around them. And not, to borrow a not-Kurtism, in a good way, as in a sexy way. Blaine's stomach lurched, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Sudden darkness. They were falling, further
and further
and further
and further.
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