Rating: K or K+ (maybe?)
Warnings: Tattooing? Blaine and Kurt tears.
Blaine Anderson doesn’t like pain, and don’t even get him started on needles, yet somehow he finds himself reclining in a leather chair in the center of a Lima Heights’ tattoo parlor. Kurt is pacing next to him, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth and his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides; there is a plane ticket to New York tucked in his back pocket, the time stamped on the stub reads 7 am… less than 6 hours from now.
First off, oh my god, one year today! How amazing is that? I don’t think I was this excited for my OWN anniversary…
Secondly, I know there are a lot of people wondering if I gave up on Klaine Week, the short answer is no. I have bits and pieces for Missing Moments and Anniversary that I am working my ass off to get posted ASAP. Wednesday, I got off work and had to run to the ER with my sister and sit for an ungodly amount of hours and today, I was babysitting and a firefight went down literally three minutes from the house, complete with the SWAT team showing up, in between phones ringing, trying to figure out what the HELL was going on AND getting the baby and I to a safe place, yeah it didn’t leave much time for writing. Friday’s prompt is Graduation and I’m hoping to do a triple update, so stay tuned! To keep spirits up, here is a quick blurt on what you have to look forward to.
Wednesday: It was the summer before senior year and Kurt Hummel planned on spending as much of it with his boyfriend as possible… he just didn’t think that would involve the Westerville Public Pool and a large group of half-naked, dripping wet Warblers.
Thursday: It’s their one year anniversary and Blaine Anderson has a “Wicked” dinner planned, literally. With a little help from the baristas at the Lima Bean and a WHOLE lot of St. Patty’s Day decorations, he might just be able to give his boyfriend One Short Date in the ‘Emerald City’.
I have no idea what I’m doing friday for the graduation theme, but I will post a description, or better yet the actually drabble, as soon as I can.
Thank so much for your patience,
Klaine Week 2012
Tuesday: AU Klaine
Rating: T (R for language?)
Kurt Hummel dropped his sunglasses lower on the bridge of his nose and cocked one perfectly manicured eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other as he slumped farther down in the backseat of the limo.
“I don’t like you,” he snapped, clicking his tongue and pushing his glasses into place again to cover his icy glare.
“You’re an asshole,” his companion responded as he removed a beer from the minibar and popped off the cap. Kurt rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his margarita, humming as the alcohol burned his throat.
“You’re a prick.” He shot back, snagging himself another margarita and propping his foot up on the seat across from the other man. The privacy window slid down and the driver shot both men accusatory looks.
“We are nearing our destination,” he announced, “May I suggest you both tone down the hostility before we arrive?”
“Fuck off, Jeeves.” The other man growled around his beer, “We have it covered. May I suggest you just do your job and drive the damn car?”
“As you wish, Mr. Anderson.” The chauffer bit out, his chest heaving with repressed anger as he slid the privacy glass back into place. Kurt clicked his tongue again and took another drink of his margarita.
4 pages and 2,242 words later I have completed Tuesday’s Prompt for Klaine Week. I can’t wait for you guys to read it!
Prompt One: Klaine as Kids/Babies
“One more day away from the shop won’t kill me,” Burt Hummel mumbled, glancing at his wife with pleading eyes, “Stan’s got everything covered.” Elizabeth sighed and flicked on her turn signal, eyes darting to the rearview mirror, the reflection an image of her three year old son playing with his shoe clad feet and giggling.
“We could just sign it over to him,” she quipped, “Milano’s Tire and Lube has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“I just don’t think it is necessary that he goes to daycare.” Burt argued, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering out the window. A break in traffic allowed Elizabeth to maneuver the van into the daycare parking lot.
“I suppose he shouldn’t go to school either, Burt?” his wife inquired as she pulled into an empty parking space and put the car in park.
“That isn’t fair, Elizabeth.” He snapped, running a hand through his thinning hair. Elizabeth turned in her seat, resting a palm on her husband’s forearm.
“I have to go back to work, honey, unless you’d rather we live in the refrigerator box that Kurt plays spaceship in.” she reasoned with a heavy sigh.
“Spaceship go vroom, vroom!” Kurt exclaimed from the backseat, “Vroom, vroom mommy. Vroom, vroom daddy.” The toddler squealed and kicked his feet excitedly, flinging his Power Ranger action figure across the seat.
“Vroom, vroom baby.” His parents echoed. Burt scrubbed a hand over his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at his son.
“He’s getting so big,” he whispered.
“Kurt’s big boy!” Kurt sing-songed, “I’m a big boy, right daddy? Right?”