[You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on
You think I'm funny, when I tell the punch line wrong]
When Wes does something, he doesn't do it half-assed. So when he meets Kurt Hummel – really meets, that is, when the boy transfers to Dalton – and realizes that he's really very attracted to the boy, he promptly breaks up with his girlfriend (who is a little less than upset; he gets the feeling that she's has second, third, and at least fourth string boys waiting for her) and proceeds to make it clear that he is in love.
In hindsight, he can admit that starting off the usual Monday morning Warblers Council meeting with "I'm enamored of Kurt Hummel" may not have been a good idea. David's reaction of friendly disapproval ("Kurt Hummel? Who's – Wes, that's not the spy, is it?") and Thad's reaction of instant professionalism mixed with confusion ("Spy? He's not from Vocal Adrenaline, is he? Wes, we've lost to them at Sectionals three years in a row now, we really don't for you to have a crush on one of their - wait. Have you always been gay? I thought you had a girlfriend…") were both, retrospectively thinking, very well-warranted, though at the time of the declaration, Wes had flushed an irritated crimson color and spluttered defensively in protest. ("We covered that he wasn't a spy; he's trapped at his school! And that his school is not Carmel – we're not even against Carmel for Sectionals this year, anyway.")
He can also admit that telling Thad may have been an absolutely horrible idea, considering that A) Thad had a set of loose lips, and was Nick's roommate. B) Nick and Blaine were very close. C) Blaine had already silently placed dibs on the brunette stranger that he had "discovered."
And yes, he realizes (now) that it probably wasn't the best means of action to not inform Kurt of the Warblers dynamic prior to the first meeting, as he saw all-too-clearly the disappointment and feelings of betrayal etched into Kurt's countenance when Wes was duty-bound to curtly reject his suggestion.
But Wes really, really doesn't do things half-assed, so when he falls in love, he goes all out – complete with the obliviousness to the world, and the hopeless pining to whatever friends will bother to listen to him.
(Wes really loves David and Jeff for being those friends, even though the pair of them weren't shy about declaring that Wes was "absolutely pitiful; a disgrace to men everywhere.")
Despite being a tenacious sort of person, however, who refused to let anyone stand in the way of his excellent plan at wooing Kurt (specifically Blaine, who often made a point of being Kurt's closest friend at Dalton – his own title – just for the sake of better staking his claim in front of Wes, by way of friendly touches on the shoulder, and the wrist, and the knee), Wes still prided himself on being a gentleman, and had thusly been nothing more than civil and kind to Kurt. Wes had been raised by his single and ever-hard-working mother, and had been taught since he could speak that the rules of courting – no matter who was courting whom – were very strict. Advances were not to be rushed; pushing was to be wholly inappropriate; kind gestures and being a friendly hand were where true romance flourished.
Following those rules exactly, Wes had never done anything quite as bold and obvious as what Blaine did. Whereas Blaine would hold Kurt's hand as they walked together up and down the halls, Wes would stay a reasonable distance away from Kurt when he found himself blessed with the countertenor's company. Whereas Blaine would cajole Kurt into making weekend plans by means of puppy eyes and pouting, Wes would extend casual invitations for Kurt to join him and several others on group outings, and would brush off the declinations (usually in the form of "I'm sorry, I have other plans") with no external signs of disappointment.
And whereas Blaine took the position of being Kurt's fairy godfather (or, in Jeff's words, "Gay Yoda"), and helped the brunette with everything from harassment to family troubles, Wes never tried to offer Kurt advice that he thought might possibly work without knowing for certain that it would indeed be successful.
Wes's plan of slowly gaining speed on the train track to Kurt's heart went on for two months, until David finally pulled him to the side and declared in exasperation, "Wes, you have to give it up. Kurt's just not into you. He likes Blaine. Even Alex can see it, and he's arguably the densest of all of us. Remember when he thought his girlfriend was cheating on him because he caught Bailey sneaking her into the Senior Commons? It was his birthday, Wes. And he didn't expect a surprise party, even though we throw one for everyone's birthday."
Wes had responded with an indignant, "That's not true!" which had caused David to sigh, before raising a mildly inquisitive eyebrow.
"Please, explain your logic to me. And try to do it without using the word "glasz." I'll admit that it does describe Kurt's eye color, but I'm getting tired of hearing it."
Wes had proceeded to elaborate his point in great detail for the better part of an hour, listing specific instances in which Kurt had expressed a casual easiness around Wes ("He said he thought it was cute when I ramble – cute, David; you don't tell someone that you're uncomfortable around that you think something they do is cute."), had given Wes thoughtful looks of contemplation ("He wasn't watching me like he was confused or bored; he looked like he was thinking hard on something – something about me."), and had shown a wariness around Blaine ("Haven't you noticed that Kurt watches him when he leaves the room? He always looks like he's nervous – he bites his lip, and not in the "I would really like to tap that" way.").
By the time that Wes reached the most substantial portion of his argument, however ("And the other day, at Warblers rehearsals, Kurt sat next to me during our break, and made it very clear that he was unhappy with Blaine at the moment, because of his opinions on Wicked. That's the type of information that he would only confide in a friend that he's comfortable with, and it shows that he and Blaine would never work out – Kurt's very serious about musical theater, as we've all seen, and he's stated on more than one occasion that Wicked is his favorite. Blaine's dislike of Wicked is most likely a deal-breaker, so even if Kurt had been besotted with Blaine – and I will concede to you that it did tend to seem like he was – he won't be anymore."), David had held up a hand to stop him, and looked rather like he was prepared to smash his head into a wall.
"Okay, Wes, I get it. So Kurt thinks of you as a friend – that just means that you're in the friend. zone. And it's near-impossible to get out of there."
Scoffing, Wes had insisted to David that his worries for Wes's heart were unnecessary, and that he was well on his way to winning Kurt over.
[I know you get me, so I let my walls come down
Down]
It was only in the following week when Wes had begun to consider the possibility that David had been right, when he happened to notice Kurt's hopeful looks as Blaine began his proposal for an off-campus Warblers performance, and he realized very abruptly that Kurt was in love with Blaine.
David seemed to notice the looks as well, as while the rest of the Warblers shouted their protests about Blaine's insult to the Warblers traditions, he nudged Wes's shoulder gently and cast a knowledgeable glance at Kurt, who almost looked as though he was bouncing in his seat. Only after Kurt had said his piece, however, and had charmed the irate boys with his tales of cats and nursing homes, had Wes felt yet another surge of confidence for his goal. He alone had seen the look of heartbreak and disappointment on Kurt's countenance, while the rest of the Warblers submitted their votes in favor of the "Warblers Gap Attack."
And when said "Warblers Gap Attack" had concluded, Wes alone had followed a dejected Kurt outside of the store while Blaine purchased a pair of socks (a fairly ugly pair of socks, Wes had thought).
"You're upset," he had said cautiously as he took a seat next to Kurt on the bench the brunette had situated himself on. Kurt had given him a weak smile in greeting, which Wes took with a great deal of optimism, before reluctantly confirming that he was indeed upset. Wes had proceeded to carefully squeeze Kurt's knee in chaste and unimposing reassuring, and offered a soft, "I'm here if you want to talk."
Kurt had given him a slightly more sincere smile, and had rested his head against Wes's shoulder for a fleeting and beautiful moment, before murmuring, "I don't really want to, but thank you for offering. It means a lot to me."
It had been with an immeasurably heavy heart that Wes had stood and departed when Blaine approached, a bag in hand and looking noticeably more less confident than he had ten minutes prior.
[Before you met me, I was all right but
Things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life]
When Valentine's Day finally came around, Wes had been more than happy to vote in approval of Kurt's suggestion for a "Lonely Hearts Club Dinner" at a Lima restaurant called "BreadstiX," and had been immensely relieved when the majority was also in favor of the suggestion. (Though several boys had expressed concerns for their girlfriends' reactions to their spending Valentine's Day with Warblers duties.)
The dinner had gone off generally without a hitch, and Wes had found a companion in one of what the Warblers had taken to calling "Kurt's girls" (the second female soloist from the New Directions' performance at Sectionals, Wes remembered), while Kurt and Blaine sat with a pair of females that all had come to recognize as "'cedes and Rach."
It was Santana, the girl that Wes had sat with, that had given him the suggestion to serenade Kurt, after he had admitted to being in love with the newest Warbler. ("If you were trying to be subtle about it, I've got news for you – y'alls fail. Miserably. Maybe next time you should try not staring at him like he's a tasty chocolate bunny you cannot wait to unwrap while he's talking about how it's okay to be alone on Valentine's Day or whatever.") And it was Santana that Wes had grinned very broadly at, before reaching across the table to throw his arms very affectionately around her shoulders in what could have, under furniture-permitting circumstances, been a bear hug.
That evening, Wes had sent out two mass emails to his fellow Warblers. The first had stated that there was to be an emergency meeting the following day. (He made sure to include the warning that complaints about it being Saturday would be ignored entirely, in his usual "Council Member" fashion of strictness.) The second had been deliberately sent to everyone but Kurt, and informed them (in a much less serious manner) that during the emergency meeting on the coming day, they would be performing a number from their repertoire, with slightly changed roles for his sake. The replies he had received to that particular email had been generally positive, with notable encouragements being "It's about time you did something about your crush. It was getting a little awkward"; "If this doesn't work, I think Kurt needs a drug test"; and the old favorite of "Get some!"
[Now every February, you'll be my Valentine
Valentine]
At a prompt 2:30 sharp on Saturday afternoon, the Warblers had all assembled in their rehearsal room. Kurt had sat, bemused, on one of the sofas, a frowning Blaine at his side, while Jeff stood on the Council desk and took bets on predicted reactions. When Wes had finally managed to call them to order – with Thad looking particularly satisfied with his placed expectation – he had stood up, cleared his throat, and tried to disperse the giddy butterflies in his stomach.
"I want to thank all of you for coming again. I know that it's Saturday, and that I have no right to make you practice again – much less a number that we won't be using in any upcoming competitions, and certainly not a number that we won't be using in any upcoming competitions, with personal modifications – but I'm very grateful that you've all given up one day of your valuable weekend to help me."
In typical weekend-Warbler fashion, the other boys had all made efforts to reply witty things at the same time (Randy was the loudest, with his proclamation of, "Aw, shucks – we'd do anything for you, Fearless Leader"), and it took another minute and a half or so to silence them.
When they were silenced, they amassed at the back of the room – Blaine looking concerned as he took up a place next to Nick in the second row, and Wes feeling almost uncomfortable in the front – while Kurt continued sitting, and looking around in confusion.
"I'm sorry – what am I supposed to be doing?" he had squeaked out nervously, as the other Warblers exchanged grins.
"Just sit down and be wooed," David explained kindly. Kurt dropped back to his seat on the sofa, looking understandably dumbfounded, as the Warblers began their familiar rendition of "Teenage Dream." (Though with the unfamiliar, and admittedly not as smooth lead vocals of Wes carrying the song.)
The performance was nothing like the one they had given when Kurt first arrived at Dalton. Though it had only been an impromptu concert then, it had been much cleaner, and their moves had been more in sync. The private one they gave, for Wes's and Kurt's sake, had been much choppier, and less inhibited – Nick focused on the dougie, whereas Chris, who stood in front of him, seemed to prefer the cabbage patch.
And yet, by the end of the number, Wes's had seemed to do what Blaine's hadn't: Kurt had been rendered undeniably speechless, and his face was wholly blank.
As Wes approached Kurt, suddenly very nervous as he was realizing that it was the first time he had made his affections for Kurt clear to Kurt, he had briefly considered turning around, and bolting from the room in mortification. Jeff and David seemed to expect as much, and, as a quick glance over his shoulder proved, had blocked the door from Wes's escape with matching smirks.
Standing in front of Kurt, Wes had nervously clasped his own hands together and mumbled a pathetic excuse of a confession in the form of, "I…ahm, it's a day late, but I was thinking – hoping, really – that you might like to be my Valentine… Now that I think about it, this was actually a horrible way to do it – if you want to say no, which you're allowed to, it's going to be awkward, and you're probably feeling like you're obligated to say yes because everyone's watching you and waiting on your answer. But you're not. Obligated, I mean. Even though I'd really appreciate it if you said yes, because I…have a deep-seated fondness for you that passes the boundaries of platonic friendship."
When Kurt had begun to cry, Wes had felt his body go numb, and the wide-eyed stares of his teammates behind him had been practically tangible. The tension in the room only became worse when Kurt realized he was being stared at, and began to choke in a way that sounded rather like chuckling.
"I'm sorry," Kurt had mumbled cheerfully, as he pulled a burgundy handkerchief (somehow, Wes was unsurprised that he had a handkerchief) from the back pocket of his skinny jeans, and dabbed at his eyes rather violently. "This probably isn't helping the gay stereotype – the crying like a girl would be expected to thing, I mean," he giggled wryly, more to himself than anything as he stood, eyes still watering.
Wes had opened his mouth to apologize for pushing Kurt to tears, before he was interrupted by Kurt's arms around him, holding him very tightly, and very close in a manner that most definitely passed the boundaries of platonic friendship.
"That was the first time anyone's ever sung a love song to me, and meant it that way," the countertenor had explained into Wes's stunned-stiff shoulder. "There's no feeling obligated about it – you've done something sweet for me, and I'm touched and would love nothing more than to be your day-late Valentine."
With that, Wes had finally regained his wits, and had managed to move to wrap his own arms around Kurt's waist. While the Warblers behind them let out a chorus of groans ("Shit – why couldn't you use your sexual tension to jump his bones, Hummel?" someone had said – teasingly?) and cheers ("I told you that nice hugs are perfectly reasonable forms of affection – for old ladies nothing, dude."), and money was heard to be changing hands, Kurt had murmured a soft, "Would you like to see a movie with me tonight?" against Wes's neck (a motion which had been incredibly distracting, and had resulted in a period of hesitation, in which Wes tried to remember how to speak).
Wes's "Of course," had come hastily, and in a jumbled up mess of phonics that Kurt had seemed to need to take a moment to decipher, before smiling warmly and pulling away to press a tender kiss to Wes's cheek.
[Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love]
"I'll pick you up at seven?" Wes had suggested eagerly as he and Kurt parted in the parking lot. Kurt gave him a tentative look, before Wes quickly added the assurance of, "I'm not trying to put you into the role of a girl; I just really want to greet you at your door with flowers. Again, not because I want to put you into a female position in any relationship we may have, but because I remember that your favorite flowers are tulips, and I've been contemplating ways for months now to show that I remember your personal preferences for things like that."
Kurt had just giggled, and replied with a fond glance, "I wasn't thinking about that – I was thinking about how I'm going to explain to my protective father that I have a date, and how you'd manage to get away unscathed after meeting him."
Blushing heavily, Wes had ducked his head in embarrassment and mumbled an incoherent, "Oh, that's – I mean, I – I didn't think –"
His embarrassment subsided when Kurt took his hand, and gave it a warm squeeze in reassurance. "I still think your rambling is very cute; don't worry."
And Wes most certainly did not worry at all as he made his way back to his home, and primped in a very excitable way for his date. When he arrived at the Hummel home, violet tulips in hand, he hadn't worried when a very tall male stared down at him suspiciously. He continued not worrying as a red-haired woman joined the other boy – apparently her son – in the doorway, and smiled brightly at Wes.
He worried slightly when a bald man that looked like he knew how to kill someone and make it look like an accident assured the other two that he "had it under control," and proceeded to glare at Wes menacingly.
That slight worry disappeared when the man's gaze turned approving on Wes, after the boy gave the answer of, "No sir – I don't do anything half-assed," in reply to the question of, "You're serious about my son? Not just screwing with him?"
And any thoughts whatsoever – worried or otherwise – disappeared entirely when Kurt squeezed past his father and out the door, dressed in the only pair of jeans Wes had ever wanted to tear off of anyone.
xoxox
AN: Why yes, this is an unholy hot mess that defies fanon by suggesting that there is no epic Blaine/Wes/David friendship, and that uses Teenage Dream for something that's not Klaine. I regret nothing (except for the whole "this is an unholy hot mess; what was I on when I wrote this?" part), BBs. /this is what happens when a bitter former Klaine shipper writes Wert.
AN (2): Let's pretend that Valentine's Day was on a Friday, mmkay? Makes my life so much easier. ;)
AN (3): Arrrg, I wrote this in a weird tense again. I have no idea WTF it's called. /grammar failure.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.