Fic: Somewhere in the World (NC-17)
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Santana, Cooper, Burt/Carole, background Rachel/Finn, Mr. & Mrs. Anderson
Summary: Somewhere in the World is the world’s most popular children’s show, and its star, Blaine Anderson, has been touted as the handsome second coming of Mr. Rogers. Even Kurt watches the show religiously, and his list of Blaine’s best attributes is even longer than that of TV’s most gushing reviewer. Yes, okay, so Kurt has a little crush. Maybe. Possibly. Shut up. So when he’s given the chance to meet the man in the flesh, he can’t really say no, can he?
Author’s Note: So this is my entry for this year’s Klaine Big Bang. It was a labour of love that I started last spring and at many points did not think I would ever finish. Many thanks to my betas: borogroves, cocktail-party-in-an-abattoir and wheretheshadowslie for all of the help, and Allie for brainstorming cheesy soap opera titles with me. :D
All art created by the amazingly talented batcii. Thank you, Sas! Working with you was wonderful and I still can’t get over how gorgeous everything is. <3333
One… Kurt lusts, Santana helps, and The Devil Child vomits.
Kurt is singing along to a French song about cabbages when Santana’s walk of shame comes to its conclusion in their living room. She throws herself onto the couch next to him and steals his bowl of cereal, and he can’t help but bend down and give her a cursory sniff, regretting it immediately when his nose fills with stale cigar smoke and cloying, floral perfume. He tries to pry his spoon away from her grip as she shovels his breakfast greedily into her mouth.
“Leave my Froot Loops alone!”
“Like you even need Froot Loops. Your gay is already at maximum capacity.”
They wrestle over the bowl for a moment more, Kurt finally getting the upper hand and tugging it away from her, sloshing a bit of milk on his hoodie in the process. He shrugs and wipes it away and turns his attention back to the TV.
“You made me miss the song!” he complains around a mouthful of cereal.
Santana rolls her eyes and opens her mouth for another bite of Froot Loops, which Kurt feeds her without turning in her direction.
“Did he do The Naughty Chair yet?” she asks, mouth full.
“The Story Chair. Oh my God, Santana, this is a kid’s show!”
She swallows the cereal and makes another grab for Kurt’s spoon, but he has the advantage seeing as he’s not suffering from a hangover, and quickly turns his body.
“Yeah, which is why you watch it so diligently every Saturday, being a kindergartner and all.”
“Shut up,” Kurt deadpans.
“Uh huh. The lady doth protest… not really hard at all, Hummel.”
Kurt shoots her a glare and stuffs his mouth full of Froot Loops.
“So where is he today?” Santana asks, grabbing the remote from Kurt’s lap and turning up the volume.
“What?! I can’t believe I missed France.” She shakes her head and tucks her legs up under her, settling in against Kurt’s side.
“So why do you watch the show with me every weekend exactly, Miss Lopez? Hmm?”
“At least I don’t have a crush on bowties and short pants over there,” she says, nodding her head at the screen. “But you are very Victorian. Do his bare ankles make you all hot and swoony?”
“I said shut up; I’m trying to hear him sing… But kind of, yes.” Kurt feels his face warming with his blush but he ignores Santana’s laugh, her pointy elbow digging into his side. Instead he focuses on the screen. Blaine Anderson. He looks very dashing today: pale pastel greens and crisp white paisley bow tie as he stands at the foot of Mont St Michel. Kurt tilts his head to one side and tries to hold in his sigh. Why can’t he meet a man like that in his day to day life?
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