Fic: Outside Looking In
Blaine/Kurt; PG-13; 1,000 words; Box Scene reaction fic (tumblr link)
Kurt lowered his eyes, his left hand carefully closed and resting on his lap. He had dismissed all intention of paying attention to class the instant he had sat on his desk, fiddling with his pen the moment the teacher began his lecture.
Slowly he extended his curled fingers, one by one, letting himself get lost in the pattern made by painstakingly intertwined gum wrapper.
He had asked Blaine, only minutes before, to put the ring on his finger; face flushed and heart trying to hammer out of his chest. He knew it wasn’t an engagement ring. He knew. But the promise in Blaine’s speech was as good as, his intentions as definite. And he hadn’t denied it after Kurt’s own imminent outburst, hadn’t look scared at all with the prospect. He wondered whether that had been Blaine’s intention, to plant the thought on Kurt’s head, or whether he didn't even realize the secondary meaning until last minute. The way Blaine had trembled, eyes shining under the artificial lights, was almost lost to Kurt. His blood rushing through his ears and convinced he was going to pass out right there or worse, wake up from a dream to the shrilling sound of his alarm.
They had separated after that, both their classes in opposite directions of the hall, and Kurt had half a mind for precious seconds to throw all caution and common sense into the ether. Desperate to have Blaine alone, hit by the overwhelming blind need to push him into an empty room, to drag him to his car and drive drive drive until they left them all behind, until there was nothing but the unstoppable force that had been pushing them towards each other since day one. To kiss you whenever, Blaine had said. And oh, how his lips ached in want. But only hugs for them in public, a rule set in stone the moment they started dating. Crushing hugs with fingertips that buried as hard as their clothing let, mouths pressing quick as flash into the curves of their necks, deep breathes to take each other in for as long as they could.
He had blinked quietly instead, had let his fingers linger on Blaine’s sleeve. His eyes linger on Blaine’s own. His heart linger on the moment.
They had let each other go at the same time, and it had felt like a real electrical connection had broken, like the bubble that contained them had burst and suddenly the reality of their surroundings came crashing down at once.
The loud noises and loud colors, the fact that they were at school, all their responsibilities and duties. Kurt could barely wrap his mind around it, that everyone else could carry on with their lives, that the Earth kept on turning at the same speed, that nothing around them had changed, not at all.
How could they be talking about homework? Who cared about sports? What was the point of discussing their lunch?
He wanted to show his gift everyone he came across, wanted to start a duet right there and then confident of Blaine’s voice following without prompting. The ring on his hand felt as heavy as a lifetime and yet he was suddenly weightless walking down the hall, moving with unconscious effort around the other students.
Kurt felt outside looking in. He was familiar with the feeling, had been the only he had known before Dalton and Teenage Dreams. But now, instead of the crippling coldness it carried with it, he was overflown with warmth, with love, and the butterflies within his ribcage hadn’t stopped their incessant fluttering, not once, not like usual when they’d slow down the moment he was without Blaine.
Kurt smiled to himself, couldn’t help it at all, probably looked insane to the rest of his Ethic’s Class.
The world was changed, even if there was no physical imminent proof. He was a completely different person than the one that had chosen fingerless gloves that morning just to be able to touch Blaine’s skin when they held hands in the cold.
He looked once more at the gum wrapper ring cradled in his palm, safe and hidden from hostile eyes.
He knew he had to leave it home if he didn’t want it to tear or lose its shape, so he allowed himself these hours until then. Relished in the feeling of the weight of it against his finger. His thumb caressed the edges of the bow, mindful of its fragility. He wondered how long it had taken Blaine to make; if it had been his first choice of gift or the last of many; if he had learnt the skill that made it possible exclusively for him or if it was a hidden hobby he didn’t know of yet.
Kurt bit the inside of his cheek, sighed deeply, tried to calm his racing heart. His lungs felt enlarged, his chest impossibly full of Blaine. He now understood his behaviour that morning in the car, driving together for breakfast and the little looks Blaine had kept giving him, every time silence fell between them. Blaine had laughed out loud at one point (and at that time apparently without reason) singing ain't got nothing but love babe with vigor when it came on shuffle and Kurt, amused and yet so deeply fond, had merely raised an eyebrow at his curious reactions.
There were still 20 minutes left, the clock teasing above the chalkboard.
Then one more class and they’d meet again for Glee, where hopefully everybody else would be too distracted by their own personal dramas to wonder and question the nature of Kurt’s hand-made accessory. They would sing, maybe dance, perhaps witness another of their friends’ public fights. Then home sweet home, walking hand in hand towards his car and at last, blissful hours in his room. Alone, in their own world again, where he’d push Blaine against his sheets and brand all the love he had kept at bay during the day into his skin.
(Kurt was sure of many things. He was sure of his talent, his style, his father’s love. But most of all, more than ever and above everything, he was certain of his future: One day the ring on his hand was going to be heavier and stronger, and Blaine was going to have its exact twin on his own hand. And that one day, the speech was going to be all his.)
Kurt lowered his eyes, his left hand carefully closed and resting on his lap. He had dismissed all intention of paying attention to class the instant he had sat on his desk, fiddling with his pen the moment the teacher began his lecture.
Slowly he extended his curled fingers, one by one, letting himself get lost in the pattern made by painstakingly intertwined gum wrapper.
He had asked Blaine, only minutes before, to put the ring on his finger; face flushed and heart trying to hammer out of his chest. He knew it wasn’t an engagement ring. He knew. But the promise in Blaine’s speech was as good as, his intentions as definite. And he hadn’t denied it after Kurt’s own imminent outburst, hadn’t look scared at all with the prospect. He wondered whether that had been Blaine’s intention, to plant the thought on Kurt’s head, or whether he didn't even realize the secondary meaning until last minute. The way Blaine had trembled, eyes shining under the artificial lights, was almost lost to Kurt. His blood rushing through his ears and convinced he was going to pass out right there or worse, wake up from a dream to the shrilling sound of his alarm.
They had separated after that, both their classes in opposite directions of the hall, and Kurt had half a mind for precious seconds to throw all caution and common sense into the ether. Desperate to have Blaine alone, hit by the overwhelming blind need to push him into an empty room, to drag him to his car and drive drive drive until they left them all behind, until there was nothing but the unstoppable force that had been pushing them towards each other since day one. To kiss you whenever, Blaine had said. And oh, how his lips ached in want. But only hugs for them in public, a rule set in stone the moment they started dating. Crushing hugs with fingertips that buried as hard as their clothing let, mouths pressing quick as flash into the curves of their necks, deep breathes to take each other in for as long as they could.
He had blinked quietly instead, had let his fingers linger on Blaine’s sleeve. His eyes linger on Blaine’s own. His heart linger on the moment.
They had let each other go at the same time, and it had felt like a real electrical connection had broken, like the bubble that contained them had burst and suddenly the reality of their surroundings came crashing down at once.
The loud noises and loud colors, the fact that they were at school, all their responsibilities and duties. Kurt could barely wrap his mind around it, that everyone else could carry on with their lives, that the Earth kept on turning at the same speed, that nothing around them had changed, not at all.
How could they be talking about homework? Who cared about sports? What was the point of discussing their lunch?
He wanted to show his gift everyone he came across, wanted to start a duet right there and then confident of Blaine’s voice following without prompting. The ring on his hand felt as heavy as a lifetime and yet he was suddenly weightless walking down the hall, moving with unconscious effort around the other students.
Kurt felt outside looking in. He was familiar with the feeling, had been the only he had known before Dalton and Teenage Dreams. But now, instead of the crippling coldness it carried with it, he was overflown with warmth, with love, and the butterflies within his ribcage hadn’t stopped their incessant fluttering, not once, not like usual when they’d slow down the moment he was without Blaine.
Kurt smiled to himself, couldn’t help it at all, probably looked insane to the rest of his Ethic’s Class.
The world was changed, even if there was no physical imminent proof. He was a completely different person than the one that had chosen fingerless gloves that morning just to be able to touch Blaine’s skin when they held hands in the cold.
He looked once more at the gum wrapper ring cradled in his palm, safe and hidden from hostile eyes.
He knew he had to leave it home if he didn’t want it to tear or lose its shape, so he allowed himself these hours until then. Relished in the feeling of the weight of it against his finger. His thumb caressed the edges of the bow, mindful of its fragility. He wondered how long it had taken Blaine to make; if it had been his first choice of gift or the last of many; if he had learnt the skill that made it possible exclusively for him or if it was a hidden hobby he didn’t know of yet.
Kurt bit the inside of his cheek, sighed deeply, tried to calm his racing heart. His lungs felt enlarged, his chest impossibly full of Blaine. He now understood his behaviour that morning in the car, driving together for breakfast and the little looks Blaine had kept giving him, every time silence fell between them. Blaine had laughed out loud at one point (and at that time apparently without reason) singing ain't got nothing but love babe with vigor when it came on shuffle and Kurt, amused and yet so deeply fond, had merely raised an eyebrow at his curious reactions.
There were still 20 minutes left, the clock teasing above the chalkboard.
Then one more class and they’d meet again for Glee, where hopefully everybody else would be too distracted by their own personal dramas to wonder and question the nature of Kurt’s hand-made accessory. They would sing, maybe dance, perhaps witness another of their friends’ public fights. Then home sweet home, walking hand in hand towards his car and at last, blissful hours in his room. Alone, in their own world again, where he’d push Blaine against his sheets and brand all the love he had kept at bay during the day into his skin.
(Kurt was sure of many things. He was sure of his talent, his style, his father’s love. But most of all, more than ever and above everything, he was certain of his future: One day the ring on his hand was going to be heavier and stronger, and Blaine was going to have its exact twin on his own hand. And that one day, the speech was going to be all his.)