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Blaine Anderson stopped cold when he closed the stall door and saw the name attached to the phone number, his cheeks flushing red and his heart speeding up at the thought of the boy.
555-1369
Kurt Hummel the skank
The boy with auburn hair with pink and blue streaked chaotically beautiful throughout it, the boy with a cigarette perpetually hanging from his lips, the boy with a ring in his nose, his lip, and god…probably his tongue, the boy with eyes so blue that when they met Blaine’s, he could feel them burning into him; it was as if Kurt could see directly through him.
It was safe to say that Blaine had harbored a crush on the elusive Kurt Hummel; ever since his first day at McKinley when he locked eyes with him on his walk to school, cigarette in hand as usual, a smirk playing across his lips, and those damn eyes.
“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Kurt’s eyes seemed to say, “I can hear every dirty, little thought in your head.”
A shiver went up his back at the mere memory of making eye contact with Kurt, how could he ever think of texting him, or god forbid…calling him? Every cell in his body told him not to do it.
“It’s not really his number,” he thought. “Kurt Hummel is so secretive, he’d never give his number to someone.”
But what if it was, and what if this was all rooted in fate?Blaine Anderson was a believer in true love, after all. Who was to say that Kurt Hummel wasn’t his?
“The laws of nature, that’s whose to say,” Blaine thought. “In what universe would Kurt Hummel fall in love with me?” He looked down at his pink and purple plaid shirt and matching bow-tie, and realized that the only thing he truly had in common with the boy he wanted to know so badly was their appreciation for loud colors.
The door to the restroom opened abruptly, interrupting Blaine’s thoughts and making him jump a little. In the crack of the stall, Blaine could see a blur of pink walk to the sink. Then, he heard the flick of a lighter starting.
It couldn’t be…was it?
Blaine pressed his eye to the crack of the stall and peered out, and sure enough, Kurt Hummel stood outside the stall; leaning against the sink as he smoked, humming a song that Blaine recognized as “Give Me Love” By Ed Sheeran. He smiled dreamily, listening to the relaxing, soft sound of Kurt’s voice. This was the most time he’d spent in the same room as the boy, and he wasn’t keen to leave now, or make his presence known; that could mean disaster.
“All I want is the taste that your lips allow,” Kurt sang softly, unaware that he was being watched, and not bothering to check for feet under the stalls. Blaine could’ve cried at the beauty; he hoped that Kurt knew how beautiful he was. He would tell him himself, but he was pretty sure that he now fell under the category of stalker, and stalking wasn’t sexy, he knew that. He knew it.
He could not force his eyes away from Kurt, though, no matter how hard he tried.
The smell of cigarette smoke filled the bathroom, and Blaine tried not to breathe in too much of it, as he was sure it would make him start to cough up a lung, but there was only so much that he could take.
Blaine took a deep breath, and immediately broke into the most unwelcome coughing fit of his life.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
“Who’s that?” Kurt said, breaking out of his daze. “You better come out and face me. I don’t care how much bigger you think you are. I will kick your sorry ass.”
Blaine didn’t answer, paralyzed by his shyness. Kurt bent over and started looking under the stalls for feet, and Blaine didn’t have time to jump up onto the toilet to hide himself. Before he knew it, Kurt was standing in front of the stall with his eye pressed against the crack.
“Oh, Anderson,” Kurt said. “You should’ve said something, I wouldn’t have been all…you know. Wanna open up?” He was surprisingly friendly once he realized it was Blaine, which was odd because Kurt often had nothing but a scowl for anyone in the school who wasn’t his best friend Quinn Fabray.
Blaine opened the stall door tentatively, and he and Kurt were finally face to face. He could feel his cheeks reddening; he knew that if he looked into those eyes he’d be done. He focused on the soap dispenser by the sink behind Kurt instead.
“There you are,” Kurt said with a smirk. “Hey. Look at me; I doubt that the bathroom sink is that interesting. Don’t you think I’m cute?”
“Wha – no! I mean, yeah!” Blaine sputtered nervously. “I mean, you’re beautiful, of course I – fuck fuck fuck.”
“Hey! Take me to dinner first. I’m not as slutty as everyone thinks!” Kurt joked.
“Oh! No! I don’t – I don’t think that, I mean, your name is on the bathroom door but I mean who knows if that’s even real and gossip is just gossip and I don’t care about gossip I only care about people and their hearts and –“ Blaine couldn’t’ stop himself; he hoped that Kurt would.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Anderson. Relax. My name’s on the bathroom door?” Kurt asked. Blaine nodded, pointing at his name on the stall. Kurt snorted, “That’s not even my real number, just a dumb prank, but if you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“W-what? I mean –“ Blaine stammered.
“Look, you are fucking cute.” Kurt said, matter-of-factly. Blaine’s eyes widened. “I’ve had my eye on you all year, have you had your eye on me?” Blaine nodded slowly, afraid to say anything and sound like a complete idiot again. “You have? Okay. So.” Kurt grabbed a pen from his bag. “Gimme your hand?”
Blaine gasped, but obeyed him. When Kurt grabbed his hand, Blaine could barely breathe. He could barely register that Kurt was writing his real number on the back of his hand.
“There you go, Anderson,” Kurt winked. “Call me up if the cat ever gives your tongue back.” He brushed his fingers over Blaine’s cheek and gave him a smile that he’d never seen him give anyone; a smile that showed his teeth and made his eyes go squinty.
“Before I go…” Kurt leaned in slowly, pressing a soft, dry kiss to Blaine’s cheek. Blaine’s breath hitched.
“Is this actually happening?” He asked Kurt.
“That, it is,” Kurt giggled. “Don’t forget me,” he whispered against Blaine’s ear before quickly exiting the bathroom.
Blaine already knew he wouldn’t.