Fic: The Pianist and his Dancer (part 1/14)
Media: Fic
Title: The Pianist and his Dancer
Rating: M
Spoilers: none. trololol it's au.
Warnings: mild smut to come in later chapters.
Word Count: 992 words (this part)
Summary: Blaine is a college student who starts work as a pianist at the McKinley School of Dance. He easily impresses the students with his adorkable ways, but his evil employer Sue Sylvester and her favourite student Kurt Hummel, aren't so easily swayed...
a/n: my first post on LJ... help me X_X haha this was originally on Tumblr so if you've seen it there, I didn't steal it I swear. I am tallblondeabercrombieoverthere on tumblr. Hope you like this, it's a really special story to me, inspired by my own dancing experience and a story about an adorable pianist from one of the girls I dance with.
And the first time Blaine sees him he’s running late, again. He’s cradling his sheet music in a messy bundle in his arms, which are clad in a white button down shirt with the sleeves done up properly only on one arm. At least his suspenders are tied.
God, he'd wanted to try really hard and make a good first impression. He had even gone out and practiced all of those pieces for Sue. He had been warned that Sue could find fault with anybody and everybody, but he had dreamed at being the only exception.
He half ran inside, clumsily stumbling through the door as he attempted to not only hold on to all his sheet music, but shove the rest of his biscotti in his mouth and try not to look like a fumbling idiot.
The receptionist bites back a laugh as she gives him directions to Studio 1 and he thanks her, dashing off down the carpeted hall. He hears faintly the sound of the recorded music he had spent so long practicing gently flowing through the glass doors and he pushes through, his chest heaving with nerves and exertion.
When he walks in the dancers all look up and as he paces to the piano, taking a large gulp of his coffee (and cursing silently when he realises it’s still scolding and burns his tongue) and trying to shift through all the music to find the next piece.
“Mr. Anderson,” Sue says smoothly when the music ends. “Thank you for finally joining us… I was beginning to worry that you had been eaten alive by the giant sea monkeys I set loose from the aquarium last week, but then I remembered that I had that worry gene removed yonks ago.”
He feels her eyes look him up and down, taking in his suspenders, half done up white (now wrinkled) button down dress shirt, black slacks (the leg of which one has somehow tucked itself into the plaid sock of his left foot, which he quickly amends, cursing his decision to put his shoes on at the traffic lights), saddle shoes (which he hadn’t had time to properly polish), still slightly damp hair (ungelled), slightly scraggly fingernails (because his nail clippers were a little rusty) and old glasses (since he hated wearing contacts). He could practically feel her judging him but he barely had time to process her words before she began barking at her students.
“Fabray,” she snapped at a pretty blonde, “I’ve seen infants who had more turn out than you. Your fifth position is like a lame third. Fix it before I chop off your feet and you’ll dance on stilts like a puppet from one of the horror films that I wrote and produced based on my own erotic fantasies.”
Blaine quirked an eyebrow but he could tell from Quinn’s horrified reaction that she was serious.
She quickly moved down the line of dancers, stopping every now and again to give various cruel (albeit, oddly creative) criticism, until she stopped at the front of the line.
And then he saw him.
Standing at the front of the barre, one of his long fingered hands delicately wrapped around the wooden stick, the other sassily placed on his hip bone which was covered by a pair of black ballet tights which did everything for Blaine’s imagination (he couldn’t really be wearing much else under, could he…? Wait. Undapper thoughts…). His beautiful face was tilted lightly to the side, his face contorted in mild amusement, his diamond like eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights.
He was the most divine human Blaine had ever laid eyes on.
“Hummel,” Sue’s mouth quirks and Blaine braces himself for her expression worries him. He feels that he’s probably going to get the worst of it…
“Keep doing what you’re doing.”
And Blaine lets out a sigh of relief.
At that (Blaine really hopes it wasn’t that actually… how embarrassing) Kurt looks up and the blue eyes that aren’t really blue but aren’t grey or green and the word diamond keeps popping up in Blaine’s eyes and he can’t help but feel that it’s applicable because diamonds are beautiful and so are his eyes, but Blaine knows there’s another word but he’s too damn entranced by this beautiful creature that coherency is not really important right now.
And in that moment when they lock eyes Blaine thinks he sees a spark of something in his gaze and for a second he feels hope…
And then Kurt’s expression turns into one of light amusement and more than light distain.
And Blaine’s heart sinks.
“Who’s the new pianist?” Blaine hears Kurt say quietly to the short brunette beside him.
He doesn’t hear her answer as he is too busy trying to fix up his dishevelled appearance as best as he can and find the next song. He does find it eventually and when Sue barks at him to start playing he’s glad that he spent so long learning these pieces practically off by heart because now he has more time to watch the boy and-
Holy fuck he’s beautiful.
Standing still he was easily the most incredible thing Blaine had ever seen. But when he danced…
Blaine found it hard to fathom how the other students managed to actually stand next to him without shrivelling up with embarrassment and mediocrity because nothing could or ever would compare to him.
His movements were so graceful and impeccable that Blaine wanted to cry. He was so absorbed in his every step that (thankfully) he didn’t notice Blaine’s (creepy, stalkerish) staring and continued undeterred.
As the song came to a close and Sue began her next feedback, Blaine didn’t stop looking at Kurt for a second. He reached for his
coffee. He was suddenly feeling rather light headed.
How was he going to last the class?
Hell, how was he supposed to last the rest of the year? ~Part 2
Title: The Pianist and his Dancer
Rating: M
Spoilers: none. trololol it's au.
Warnings: mild smut to come in later chapters.
Word Count: 992 words (this part)
Summary: Blaine is a college student who starts work as a pianist at the McKinley School of Dance. He easily impresses the students with his adorkable ways, but his evil employer Sue Sylvester and her favourite student Kurt Hummel, aren't so easily swayed...
a/n: my first post on LJ... help me X_X haha this was originally on Tumblr so if you've seen it there, I didn't steal it I swear. I am tallblondeabercrombieoverthere on tumblr. Hope you like this, it's a really special story to me, inspired by my own dancing experience and a story about an adorable pianist from one of the girls I dance with.
And the first time Blaine sees him he’s running late, again. He’s cradling his sheet music in a messy bundle in his arms, which are clad in a white button down shirt with the sleeves done up properly only on one arm. At least his suspenders are tied.
God, he'd wanted to try really hard and make a good first impression. He had even gone out and practiced all of those pieces for Sue. He had been warned that Sue could find fault with anybody and everybody, but he had dreamed at being the only exception.
He half ran inside, clumsily stumbling through the door as he attempted to not only hold on to all his sheet music, but shove the rest of his biscotti in his mouth and try not to look like a fumbling idiot.
The receptionist bites back a laugh as she gives him directions to Studio 1 and he thanks her, dashing off down the carpeted hall. He hears faintly the sound of the recorded music he had spent so long practicing gently flowing through the glass doors and he pushes through, his chest heaving with nerves and exertion.
When he walks in the dancers all look up and as he paces to the piano, taking a large gulp of his coffee (and cursing silently when he realises it’s still scolding and burns his tongue) and trying to shift through all the music to find the next piece.
“Mr. Anderson,” Sue says smoothly when the music ends. “Thank you for finally joining us… I was beginning to worry that you had been eaten alive by the giant sea monkeys I set loose from the aquarium last week, but then I remembered that I had that worry gene removed yonks ago.”
He feels her eyes look him up and down, taking in his suspenders, half done up white (now wrinkled) button down dress shirt, black slacks (the leg of which one has somehow tucked itself into the plaid sock of his left foot, which he quickly amends, cursing his decision to put his shoes on at the traffic lights), saddle shoes (which he hadn’t had time to properly polish), still slightly damp hair (ungelled), slightly scraggly fingernails (because his nail clippers were a little rusty) and old glasses (since he hated wearing contacts). He could practically feel her judging him but he barely had time to process her words before she began barking at her students.
“Fabray,” she snapped at a pretty blonde, “I’ve seen infants who had more turn out than you. Your fifth position is like a lame third. Fix it before I chop off your feet and you’ll dance on stilts like a puppet from one of the horror films that I wrote and produced based on my own erotic fantasies.”
Blaine quirked an eyebrow but he could tell from Quinn’s horrified reaction that she was serious.
She quickly moved down the line of dancers, stopping every now and again to give various cruel (albeit, oddly creative) criticism, until she stopped at the front of the line.
And then he saw him.
Standing at the front of the barre, one of his long fingered hands delicately wrapped around the wooden stick, the other sassily placed on his hip bone which was covered by a pair of black ballet tights which did everything for Blaine’s imagination (he couldn’t really be wearing much else under, could he…? Wait. Undapper thoughts…). His beautiful face was tilted lightly to the side, his face contorted in mild amusement, his diamond like eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights.
He was the most divine human Blaine had ever laid eyes on.
“Hummel,” Sue’s mouth quirks and Blaine braces himself for her expression worries him. He feels that he’s probably going to get the worst of it…
“Keep doing what you’re doing.”
And Blaine lets out a sigh of relief.
At that (Blaine really hopes it wasn’t that actually… how embarrassing) Kurt looks up and the blue eyes that aren’t really blue but aren’t grey or green and the word diamond keeps popping up in Blaine’s eyes and he can’t help but feel that it’s applicable because diamonds are beautiful and so are his eyes, but Blaine knows there’s another word but he’s too damn entranced by this beautiful creature that coherency is not really important right now.
And in that moment when they lock eyes Blaine thinks he sees a spark of something in his gaze and for a second he feels hope…
And then Kurt’s expression turns into one of light amusement and more than light distain.
And Blaine’s heart sinks.
“Who’s the new pianist?” Blaine hears Kurt say quietly to the short brunette beside him.
He doesn’t hear her answer as he is too busy trying to fix up his dishevelled appearance as best as he can and find the next song. He does find it eventually and when Sue barks at him to start playing he’s glad that he spent so long learning these pieces practically off by heart because now he has more time to watch the boy and-
Holy fuck he’s beautiful.
Standing still he was easily the most incredible thing Blaine had ever seen. But when he danced…
Blaine found it hard to fathom how the other students managed to actually stand next to him without shrivelling up with embarrassment and mediocrity because nothing could or ever would compare to him.
His movements were so graceful and impeccable that Blaine wanted to cry. He was so absorbed in his every step that (thankfully) he didn’t notice Blaine’s (creepy, stalkerish) staring and continued undeterred.
As the song came to a close and Sue began her next feedback, Blaine didn’t stop looking at Kurt for a second. He reached for his
coffee. He was suddenly feeling rather light headed.
How was he going to last the class?
Hell, how was he supposed to last the rest of the year? ~Part 2