Word Vomit (1/1)
Title: Word Vomit
Author: whatfoolscallit
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: None
Rating: G
Warning: Some second-hand embarrassment.
Summary: Blaine wants to talk to a beautiful who just sang at the open mic night at the Lima Bean. He's gathered his courage. Unfortunately, he's left his brain-to-mouth filter ten steps that way.
Companion piece - Tell It Again
The boy stepped off the stage, grinning. He took a swig from a water bottle and then, catching his bangs in between two fingers, fixed his hair.
Blaine rose from the table he had occupied upon entering the Lima Bean, drowning the dredges of the second coffee he’d had in an hour. His hands were shaking. Maybe that last cup was a bad idea.
Blaine hadn’t been planning on staying for Lima Bean Open Mic Night. He just wanted to check out the stage, maybe, or check out the crowd. But then the announcer motioned Kurt Hummel up onto the stage and before he knew it, Blaine was buying a medium drip and sitting.
The boy was making his way towards a girl seated in the center of the tables. Blaine rushed from his chair to intercept him. They stood toe-to-toe, his blue eyes focused on Blaine’s, deep and curious. Blaine took a few seconds to figure out what he wanted to say. Introduce himself obviously, that Kurt had sung his favourite Beatles song and he had loved the arrangement and did he maybe want to have coffee with him?
Kurt made to move around him, obviously feeling quite awkward after the extended pause where Blaine kind of just stared at him, realizing that he’d spent too much time thinking and not talking. He put on his widest and most charming smile. Kurt stopped. Blaine opened his mouth, speech on the tip of his tongue.
“Marry me.”
Kurt flushed a deep and lovely red, starting at his neck before his cheeks bloomed like roses, rounding out at the tips of his ears and slightly upturned nose. “Excuse me?”
Blaine’s mouth snapped shut and Kurt took a step back. “Oh God, I am so sorry,” Blaine blurted, hands reaching towards the other boy. “Please, that is so not what I meant to say.”
The paler boy clutched the edge of his jacket. “Oh?” His eyes flicked up to look behind Blaine at the girl at the table and then back to him.
Blaine’s smile was large and shyly lopsided. “No, what I’d rehearsed in my head was a little different.”
“Rehearsed?” the boy inquired.
“Yeah, on my way here from the table,” Blaine jerked a thumb in the direction behind him.
“Four seconds isn’t too much of a rehearsal period.”
Blaine gave a little shrug. “Probably why I screwed up then. What I wanted to say was that you sang wonderfully and I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee with me.”
Kurt hesitated, shifting on his feet back and forth. “I’m actually here with a friend…”
“She can join us,” Blaine said immediately and Kurt brightened, eyebrows lifting and mouth tilting up.
“Okay! Just a second, I’ll ask her.”
This time Blaine let Kurt step past him. Kurt walked like a dancer, almost floating above the ground in a smooth slide. The girl at the table was wearing a white smile and an atrocious animal sweater. He watched as Kurt and the girl conversed, Kurt gesturing to Blaine with his hands. The girl smiled and started to stand, throwing her coat over her arm. Blaine felt his stomach twinge with disappointment as the two of them made their way towards him. He hadn’t actually wanted to have lunch with the girl too, but if it made Kurt more comfortable, then he’d do it.
He straightened his shoulders as they neared, exchanging a small smile with the girl as she walked right past him and out the exit. Blaine blinked. “Is she... Is she not joining us?”
“No,” the other boy sighed. “She said she had better things to do than watch me make moon eyes.” He stopped, pressing his lips together as his cheeks reddened with a hint of colour. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Very okay,” Blaine nodded. “My name’s Blaine Anderson,” he added, holding out his hand. Kurt squeezed his palm. “And you’re Kurt.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows. “I am. How’d you know?”
“No, no! I’m not like stalking you or anything!” Blaine’s hands fluttered in front of him, eyes wide and breath puffing. “I just heard the guy say your name when you got on stage.”
Kurt pulled his lips in, trying not to grin. “Right, of course. Well, Blaine, what else do know about me?”
“You’re Kurt Hummel, you’ve got a beautiful voice and friend who somehow simultaneously dresses like a five year-old and a grandma.”
Kurt rolled his eyes, sharing a grin with Blaine. “Don’t I know it. No amount of closet raids can correct the style that is Rachel Berry.”
Blaine reached a hand towards Kurt, pulled it back, reached again. He looked at Kurt who seemed quite amused. “Join me in line?” he asked. Kurt nodded and walked forward, allowing Blaine to place a hand on the middle of his back to guide him into line. “So are there many Rachel Berry makeover stories.”
“Oh yes,” Kurt replied, as they stepped forward in line. “It all started in sophomore year when I tricked her into dressing as Sandra Dee post-Pink Lady intervention so that her crush wouldn’t like her. We weren’t friends then,” he explained at Blaine’s confused face.
“So she’s not your girlfriend.”
“God, no. No girlfriend.”
“Boyfriend?”
Kurt’s mouth fell open. “Uh, no. No boyfriend either.” Blaine’s mouth pulled in a little smile. “And you?”
“No boyfriend.”
The two of them reached the till, still smiling. The barista stared at them expectantly. Blaine gestured to Kurt, who rolled forward on his toes and ordered a grande non-fat mocha. Blaine ordered another medium drip, wondering how jittery he’d get by the time he was halfway done it, and walked with Kurt to the other end of the counter to get their drinks. “So where do you go to school?”
“McKinley. I’m a junior. You?”
“Dalton Academy in Westerville. Have you heard of it?”
Kurt gasped, placing a hand on Blaine’s arm. Blaine grinned. “Don’t even tell me, Blaine Anderson, that you’re a Warbler.”
“I am,” Blaine said proudly.
“Oh I see how it is now,” Kurt said, biting back a smile. “You only wanted to talk to me to glean secrets from the New Directions.”
Blaine looked aghast. “No! No, I didn’t Kurt. I thought you sang beautifully, I just wanted to tell you that.”
“Relax, Blaine,” Kurt laughed. “I was kidding.”
“Of course.” Blaine’s cheeks pinked and Kurt smiled. A barista placed two drinks in front of them and they walked off after thanking her, searching for an empty table. The coffee shop had emptied as the performances dwindled, and the two boys found a table near a window.
“So,” Kurt started. “Do you read Vogue?”
“Do I read Vogue? Does Meryl Streep have Oscars?”
He narrowed his eyes; Blaine felt a test coming. “Favourite 2010 cover on three. One, two, three!”
“Marion Cotillard!” they said together, throwing up their hands.
“She was flawless,” Kurt gushed.
“Oh, I completely agree, flawless.” Blaine paused. “Like your song.”
Kurt sat back, two fingers fixing his hair again. “You really liked it?”
“You’re beautiful,” Blaine said earnestly, tongue wagging without his brain’s permission. Kurt’s eyes flickered down to his coffee and met Blaine’s. “I mean, your song! It was beautiful. Yeah.” He could tell Kurt was trying to hide a smile by the way he pulled his lips into his mouth.
“Thanks.”
The two continued to chat, finding more about each other and their common interests. Both he and Kurt liked football. Well, Blaine liked football. Kurt liked scarves. After what felt like ten minutes, Blaine glanced at his phone.
“Holy crap, we’ve been here for two hours!”
“What?” Kurt pulled out his own phone. Eyes widening at the time. “Oh my God! I was supposed to be home half an hour ago!”
Blaine scrambled out of his chair, taking both his and Kurt’s empty cups to the the trash. For all reason that Kurt should’ve been rushing out of the Lima Bean, he was slowing buttoning his jacket, deft fingers pulling the round knobs through loops. He glanced at Blaine and then turned back to his task.
“Hey Kurt?” Blaine asked, nearing him again.
Kurt’s head snapped up. “Yeah?”
“Can I maybe have your number?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course!” They exchanged phones with tremendous grins. With one last smile, one more good-bye and a promise to keep in touch, the two boys parted ways outside the glass door of the shop.
Blaine drove home, humming happily and bobbing his head to the radio. Through his nightly routine of shower, teeth and pajamas, he grinned and sang. It was when he finally fell into bed that he felt his phone vibrate.
So Blaine Warbler, how about that wedding?
You’ll have to buy me dinner first.