Clueless

Sometimes, Blaine can be a little slow. At least, that's what Wes and David are always telling him. But he's trying to be a gentleman. He's trying to be charming and nice and romantic. Kurt's been through a lot, lately, with Karofsky's lip-rape and all the death threats. He doesn't need a relationship right now, especially with Blaine, who's really not as self-assured and suave as he pretends to be. So he's taking it slow, being a friend right now, because that's what Kurt needs. And it's working, mostly. Until Kurt looks up at him with that damned sparkle in his eyes, and it takes all of Blaine's self-restraint to not grab the younger boy by his uniform jacket, push him against the wall, and kiss him until his brain melts out his ears.

Not that his friends make his life any easier. Every time they catch Blaine staring at the newest addition to the Warblers, they raise their eyebrows and share these knowing glances. And he wants to punch them, but then Kurt catches his eye and smiles and ohmygod he looks so beautiful when he's smiling at him like that and so many dirtydirtythoughts come into his mind—Kurt writhing underneath him, moaning his name and flashing that gorgeous, wonderful smile—until he can't see straight. Wes and David grin even more widely as Blaine fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. But he can't think like this, he can't, because it's not what Kurt needs right now and even if he was ready, even if Karofsky hadn't existed, there's no way Kurt Hummel would be into boring old Blaine. Kurt is a firework (Blaine kind of has a soul connection with the fabulous Katy Perry) and an individual and so bright that it's literally blinding. Blaine really isn't good at much—he's a mediocre singer, they only give him solos because he has a relatively decent stage presence—and he's not that smart—not like Kurt, who regularly uses words like ignoramus and indubitably—and there's no way that anyone as special as Kurt would ever be interested in Blaine.

He doesn't even realize he's been voicing these thoughts aloud until a weighty Latin textbook whizzes by his head, narrowly missing his right ear and bouncing of the wall onto the floor. They're in his room, Blaine, Wes, and David, and Blaine's been laying on his bed, torso half-leaning against the wall, for the better part of an hour. He's just been staring blankly at the wall across from him, thinking about Kurt and skin-tight jeans and ohmygod there come those dirtydirtydirty thoughts again.

"Shut up!" David explodes, right as the book bounces off the wall. Blaine jerks up, staring at his friends, who're both glaring at him with venomous expressions.

"What?" He asks blankly. His friends move closer, arms crossed over their chests.

"You," Wes starts, taking a step forward, "are perhaps the single most clueless person on the planet."

"What?" He asks again. (Kurt'd be so disappointed if he were here, Blaine thinks. He's totally not eloquent tonight.)

"You've been pining over Kurt for months," David states blankly, "and frankly, it's getting annoying."

Wes nods. "We realize you're trying to be all gentlemanly and dapper-" David snorts at the word. "-but you can't just sit and wallow in your room."

"Stephen's even been complaining. Says he can't stand room with you when all you do is sit in the dark listening to Teenage Dream on repeat."

"But Kurt doesn't-"

"For the love of all that is holy, Blaine! Kurt is seriously into you! Everyone one can see that."

"Except, apparently, you."

Blaine sinks into his mattress a bit, processing. Wes and David still look annoyed, but it's softened a bit, and they almost look like they feel sorry for him, which is really just kind of humiliating.

"Kurt...likes me?" His voice shakes a bit, and he clears his throat, "are you sure?"

Wes heaves a sigh.

"Blaine. The kid is always staring at you. In rehearsal, in the dining hall, during French...he blushes every time you smile in his direction, he practically jizzes his pants when you touch him, and he's always texting you. Plus we may have cornered him after Warblers last week and forced him to admit to it."

Blaine's eyes widened.

"He actually told you?" He asks, "he told you that he likes me?"

Wes shakes his head, and Blaine's shoulders slump until his friend leans forward and takes him by the shoulders.

"Blaine," he says, serious as ever, "he told us that he's in love with you."

Blaine's brain processes this information for a moment. And then, without a second thought, he jumps up and races out the door and downstairs, to the junior dormitories. He isn't really thinking, his mind a broken record of he'sinlovewithyou. But then he's knocking on Kurt's door and it's opening and ohshit he hasn't really thought this through but Kurt's looking down at him expectantly—he's never been more aware of the fact that Kurt's a good two inches taller—and he should say something goddamnit before he looks like an idiot and then his mouth is opening and words start to spill out.

"Kurt!" he pants, eyes wild and hands flying everywhere, "I'm not really sure where to start so I'm just gonna start talking and hope I don't sound like too much of an idiot, alright?"

Kurt merely raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused.

"So I've been an idiot. A really, really big idiot. I was so fixated with making sure you were doing okay after the Karofsky incident and I was trying to be nice and a good friend and everything but I can't stop thinking about you and..."

Kurt reaches up to brush Blaine's hair back, and Blaine's suddenly aware of how much of a mess he must be right now, with his hair everywhere and his clothes rumpled and his tie half undone. But then Kurt's hand touches the skin of his forehead and he pretty much can't think straight right now because he's pretty sure he may have just exploded from the electricity that's passing through Kurt's (softsosoft) hand and into Blaine's body.

"You talk a lot when you're nervous," Kurt states, looking more amused than anything. Blaine can't understand why Kurt's so calm right now, when he's practically spilling his heart out on the navy carpet. Kurt must see the confusion in his eyes, because he grins a little and says, "David texted me just now. Warned me you were coming. I was kind of pissed when he said they told you what I said the other day, but..."

"So...it's true?" Blaine asked, eyes desperately searching Kurt's face.

Kurt doesn't respond. Instead he flashes his gorgeous smile at Blaine and suddenly he realizes what he really wants to happen right now.

"Kurt," he says, trying to keep his voice calm, "I am about two seconds away from kissing you until you can't breathe, so if that's a problem you need to say something now so I don't totally embarrass myse-"

But he never finishes his sentence, because Kurt's lips are warm and hard against his and ohdeargod he tastes like strawberries and Blaine's pretty sure he's never been this happy about anything in his life. When he finally gets a firm grasp of the situation, he grins into the kiss and pulls Kurt closer, one hand wrapping around his trim waist, the other clutching at the hair on the nape of his neck. Kurt's hands are firm on him, one on his shoulder, the other clutching at the loosened loop of his tie and he could stay like this forever, with Kurt molding into him and grasping at his clothes and their lips moving together fiercely and everything feeling absolutely perfect.

But they have to pull apart eventually, because the whole not being able to breathe thing is becoming a problem. When they do, Kurt wraps arms around Blaine's neck, and Blaine grasps his waist and pulls him even closer. Their foreheads fall against each other and their noses are touching and Blaine can't imagine a more perfect position to be standing in right now.

"Took you long enough," Kurt murmurs, when they finally catch their breath. Blaine laughs lightly, running his hands along Kurt's spine.

"Well it's not like you did anything, either," he teases, letting one hand fall perfectly onto Kurt's hip.

"I-I didn't think you were interested," Kurt admits, blinking at him.

"You know, Kurt," Blaine presses a light kiss to the boy's nose, "for someone so smart, you sure can be clueless."