Summer Klaine Week

I listen to him sing, hypnotized, for the next quarter hour. When he finally stands up and turns around, he looks straight at me. Lean, powerful eyes, a faithful chin, a slightly angled nose and intense eyebrows.  He’s riveting in the pastel light of the bar lamps.

His mouth curves slightly, favoring the same small bend as his nose, and we hold each other’s gaze so long that my entire body grows warm and tremulous. Then he does something unexpected. He walks towards me unhesitatingly.

I look down and hurriedly put my coffee to my mouth. I stare at the speckled foam in the bottom of the cup, which is shaking noticeably in my shaking hands, and pray that he doesn’t sit down. I would love to hear his voice this close, love to ask him his name, but…

      “You seemed to recognize what I was playing,” he says, sliding into a seat across from me.

The booth is protected, and his voice is low and husky, but there’s no mistaking us for what we are.

I set down my cup and finally look into his eyes. “It’s one of my favorites. You…you have a beautiful voice. You did the song justice.”

      “My boss doesn’t agree. He only lets me play.” He drops his gaze momentarily. “You think I have a beautiful voice?”

      “I’ve been spellbound.”

      “I can’t lie. That was my intention.”

      “I was curious why you were playing to an empty bar.”

      “This bar has never been less empty.” He raises his eyebrows, smiles slightly and holds out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Blaine Anderson.”

      “Kurt,” I say, shaking his hand. “Kurt Hummel.”

We stay touching for slightly too long and I notice something cold connect with my finger. I glance down at his hand. He’s wearing a gold band around his fourth finger.

      “I hope I’m not keeping you from your family.”

      “I don’t have a family. I pickpocketed this so I could get this job. It stipulated that all applicants be married to avoid…ah…artistic types.”

      “Oh, yes. Artistic types.”

We smile at each other and I lean forward. I breathe his scent in deeply and my eyelids flutter.

      “Where did you learn to play like that?” I ask softly.

      “My mother,” he says. “There was a piano in the basement of our apartment.”

      “Where are you from?”

      “Ohio.”

      “Really? Me as well. I came here last year to work on my writing.”

      “What do you like to write?”

      “Fiction. Novels. If I can’t live in this world…”

      “…you might as well live in another. That’s what I do with my music.” He looks down and clears his throat. “Kurt, I…” He takes my hand. “I’ve been watching you come here for a month. I just now got my nerve up to play in front of you.”

      “W-what?”

He grips my hand a little tighter. “You are so beautiful. I just…I sit behind the counter and gaze at you whenever you’re here.”

I’m unable to breathe. How can a man like this, this man with ink black hair and the scent of cologne tipping off his collar, have fallen…fallen in love…with me?

Warm liquor pours into my veins and I stare fiercely at him. Am I…have I…fallen in love…with him?

He cautiously tucks my hair behind my ear. His touch sets my skin on fire. And then, slowly, experimentally…he presses his lips to mine in a kiss. For a second, I am too surprised and too blinded by pleasure to respond, but then I cup his face in my hand and kiss back.  

His lips are as expert and gentle as his voice, and for a full minute, he lets me experience their texture and taste their sweetness. Then he slowly pulls back, eyes fused with my eyes, hands rubbing soft circles on my hands.

Neither of us speak for a moment, and then he whispers, “I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same—”

“No,” I say quickly. “I do. I feel the same way.”

His lips part in surprise. “Oh my God,” he murmurs, “I thought…I thought you would reject me…I wasn’t even completely sure that you…I thought…I…”

      “Tonight is the first time I ever saw you,” I whisper, “but I…I felt you. I felt every word you sang and when you looked at me…”

We lean close again, mouths brushing. I may never use the word impossible again. I may lock it out of my vocabulary even if this night produces nothing and vanishes away like morning fog.

      “I would…I would like to know you better,” I tell him.

It felt weird, but the show itself had gotten my attention so my uncle let me borrow his Season 1 DVDs. I fell in love. Yeah, with Glee too. But I meant I fell in love with Kurt. I didn't want to accept it at first ("What's wrong with you? He's gay. Look, the other guys are cute too."), but one day I told mom I thought I liked Kurt. Well, not Kurt. Chris. Because what did I like about him? His face, his voice. Chris had that. I wouldn't fall for a gay guy. Thank god for Wikipedia and my priceless face as I read "Colfer is openly gay."

I accepted it a while later, but I hated Blaine (shh). According to mom, I was jealous, it could have been that. After watching the Concert and the first half of Season 2 in December, I started liking him. But of course, I didn’t jump into OTPing at first. I couldn’t even look at the Kliss (*mentally shoots past!me*). But later, I started shipping them, watched random chunks of fluffiness from internet (my uncle couldn’t find the complete Season 2). Then he gave me both Season sets as a gift and I was officially a Klainer then.

It all started with Twitter. I typed in “Glee” and started following random people. Most of them had tumblr so I decided to make one. Oh, before actually deciding it, I searched “Klaine” on Google and found FanFiction aka best thing ever. I saw a lot of Omegle roleplays on tumblr so I tried that out. Also Chatzy.

I had made a lot of friends, better than the ones I have in real life, through this, and Klaine has literally opened my eyes to the world and to acceptance and besides them being flawless angels, I am forever thankful for what they have done.

I have other passions too, like Rocky Horror, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Les Mis, and LGBT community in general, plus some other movies and shows and stuff I like. Thought my dad’s family has no idea of anything.

I also find out I’m bisexual, something I could have never thought of. I can proudly say my life is divided in ‘Before Klaine’ and ‘After Klaine.’

(Yes, I could go on but I feel this is too long already :P)