#also pls don’t come for my spell choices I’ll never pretend to be good at this game

[kimikaami]

“least popular player class” yeah taste is hard to come by

[kpop-stole-my-sanity]

Weakness // Nakamoto Yuta

Request: “hello my bb girl/boy/whatever you prefer!! could i pls request an angst for any nct member of your choice where they see you again for the first time after not keeping in contact? idk, i understand if you can’t get it done!! love u honey”

Genre: angst

Word Count: 3236

A/N: I am so so so so so sorry this took so long!!! I’ve really been in a writing funk lately, and no matter how hard I tried, the words took super long to find their way onto the page. :(( I think I’m getting out of the funk tho so hopefully I’ll be uploading more soon~~ Also, I’m not really used to writing angst, so so try if this is bad or weird or cringey or something but I TRIED I PROMISE!!  I’ll definitely improve with practice tho, so plz don’t be afraid to request!! :DDDD

P.S. I didn’t proofread so I apologize for any stupid spelling or grammar mistakes !!! + I LOVE YOU TOO :D

(a/n: let’s pretend you live in Japan bc yuta senpai)

“Yuta? Where are you? Yuta!!!”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt a hand grip your shoulder from behind. You spun around to see your best friend, whose eyes were twinkling with mischief as his lips curled up to form a wide grin.

“I hate it when you sneak up on me like that.” “I know.” “Where did you even go? I was scared you left me.” “Why? Because you would miss me?~~” “Hah! Not even close! It’s because it’s dark and I’m not trying to get mugged tonight.” “Wow, rude. Maybe I should just run ahead and let you get mugged.”

And with that, he took off, laughing as you struggled to keep up with him. You screamed his name in mock anger, but knew that he would never leave you behind. He eventually feigned exhaustion and slowed down, and the two of you continued home in comfortable silence.

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You woke up groggily to the sound of your alarm blaring across the room. Disheveled, and a little disoriented, you managed to make your way to the outlet where your phone was charging and turned the loud alert off. An audible sigh left your lips as you thought back to the dream you just had.

It’s the asshole’s birthday tomorrow.

You laughed at the irony of it all. This particular memory reminded you of how much faith you once had in him. Never in a million years did you think he would leave you. But he did. One day he was here, the next day he was gone, without a trace. No call, no note, not even a crappy text message to say goodbye. He just left. At first, you were terrified. What if something bad happened to him? Thousands of possibilities ran through your mind––each worse than previous one. But all of that was erased when you talked to Yuta’s neighbor, Ms. Kyoshi, who said that she had seen cardboard boxes being packed into moving trucks just days before. Well, there you had it.  

You wanted to hate him for it, but you could never bring yourself to. Of course you were angry and frustrated, but he had been your best friend for years. Him disappearing so suddenly made you worried more than anything else, and as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. You couldn’t believe that even after the four years he’d been gone, Nakamoto Yuta was still your weakness.

You were pulled out of your self-loathing when your phone chirped, signaling that you received a message.

Miri: Hey Y/N! Just reminding you that I’m coming to pick you up at 9:30. Be ready!

You checked the time: 7:28. That gave you just enough time to shower, eat breakfast, and double check that you packed everything you needed. Hopefully this trip would distract you from your constant thoughts of Yuta.

“South Korea, here I come!”

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The plane ride from Japan to Korea had been fairly short, and with none of the random delays that you and Miri had prepared for. That left the two of you with the rest of the day in Seoul, and no plans. After arriving at your hotel, you decided to just spend your time walking around the city, perhaps going to Hongdae to experience some of the street life that it was famous for. You found that when on vacation, it was really nice to just “go with the flow” sometimes and not have to keep up with an insanely packed itinerary.

Walking along the streets of Seoul seemed peaceful, despite the bustling of the crowds around you. In fact, the unfamiliar surroundings and large groups of people were what calmed you, keeping your mind off of you-know-who. Every time you or Miri saw a cute store or café you wanted to look at, you didn’t hesitate, using your free time to just browse around. Soon, the two of you found yourselves in a large square with tall buildings and malls. All around, huge ads were flashing on screens, displaying the flawless faces of Korean idols promoting their respective products. You rolled your eyes as you heard Miri squeal.

“Oh my gosh! That’s NCT 127!”

You just hummed in response, not even bothering to look towards the direction she was pointing. You were too distracted by the ice cream stand to your right.

“You know, one of them is from Japan! He’s honestly hella rude.”

“That’s cool.”

Miri scoffed at your dry reply, but continued nevertheless: “His name is Yuta, but he’s not my bias. My bias is Taeyong! He’s the leader and one of the rappers of the group and he’s actually so attractive I cannot-”

But at that point, you had completely tuned her out. As soon as the familiar name escaped her lips, your head snapped towards the ad so quick that you could’ve sworn you almost got whiplash (eheh see what I did there? ;3)

It couldn’t be... could it?

Your eyes frantically scanned the faces of all the members before landing on none other than Nakamoto Yuta.

You felt everything crash around you as huge rushes of emotion rolled through your body. Relief, confusion, frustration, and most of all, anger. Your blood began to boil as you continued to stare at the annoyingly perfect smile you missed for so long. You felt ridiculous for getting mad at the digital image shown on the screen, but he was fine. He seemed to be pretty well off, actually, so what kept him from letting you know where he was and what he was up to?

“Hey, are you okay? Why are you staring at the ad so aggressively?”

You shook your head and just whispered, “Later.” Luckily, she didn’t push, instead nodding in understanding. You let out a dry chuckle. Of all the places you could have visited, you had to visit South Korea. Now, instead of keeping your mind off of Yuta, the trip made you think about him more than ever. You wanted nothing more than to seek him out and scream at him, punch him, kick him, and demand for an explanation. One way or another, you were determined to find Yuta and give him a piece of your mind.

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“WHAT! OH MY GOD! YOU KNEW NAKAMOTO YUTA!”

You sighed and threw a pillow at Miri. “Yes, emphasis on knew. That jerk was my best friend and he just left without saying goodbye.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe that someone I know, knew someone who I’m watching through computer screens. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

You smiled at your friend, signaling that you forgave her. But it was gone as soon as it came as your thoughts returned to Yuta.

“Hey, Miri?” “Yeah, what’s up?” “Do you happen to know where NCT 127 works?” “…yes…why?” “Because Yuta and I need to have a talk.”

To your duress, Miri started squealing, “OH MY GOSH I’M GONNA SEE TAEYONG IN REAL LIFE I’M GOING TO DIE. AHHHH––wait. Y/N, how can you be sure he’s going to talk to you?”

Falling backwards onto the bed, you let out a loud groan. “I don’t know Miri. But if our friendship meant anything to him, he has to speak with me… right?”

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[The Next Day]

It was early…way too early. But in order to make sure that you were in Yuta’s line of sight, you had to get there before the hundreds of crazy fangirls did. You had it all planned out: how you were going to yell out his name, what you were going to say, the hand gestures you were going to use to express your rage––all of it. But as the time passed by, you grew less and less confident.  

“Are we seriously doing this right now?”

Miri’s question mirrored your own thoughts exactly. You bit your lip, unsure about whether or not you should really go through with it. You wanted to follow your plan and boldly call him out, but truthfully, you were nervous. If you were completely honest with yourself, you were actually excited to see him again. It had been years, and you were genuinely curious about how he was doing. Apprehension raced through your veins as your eyes wandered over the sea of fans waiting beside you. The loud bustling that calmed and distracted you earlier was now only igniting your anxiety. Did you really want to have your confrontation so publicly? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

“I don’t know, Miri, maybe we should just le–”

You were cut off by loud squeals emerging from every direction. Instinctively, your eyes lifted as you saw a row of tall, lean bodies exit the van that just pulled up. You couldn’t see their faces yet, but decided that you wanted to run away before that could happen. Tugging on Miri’s shirt, you tried to tell her that it was time to go. Unfortunately, she too was encapsulated by the presence of the idols and failed to notice. You were out of time. You tried to push yourself further into the rowdy crowd, but with so many fans trying to get closer to the front, there was no use. Your early awakening didn’t seem like such a good idea now.

Desperate, you made a last-ditch attempt to hide behind Miri as the idols moved closer, but it was too late. With the turn of your head, you made direct eye contact with Yuta. You felt your body go rigid, staring at the so-familiar yet so-different person in front of you. Yes, it was your childhood best friend, Nakamoto Yuta, but he was slimmer, his facial features were more defined, and his hair was now a light brown. For a second, you let your guard down, expression softening into one of awe. But when you saw the look of recognition on his face––the wide eyes and parted lips––your anger returned once again (ANOTHAA ONE EHEH ;D). His mouth moved to form the syllables of your name.

“Y/N?”

Waves of heat cascaded over you, burning up your face and fueling your anger. If you didn’t know better, you would have claimed that steam was blowing out from your ears. The words you had prepared so intently were long forgotten.

Fuming, you let the first thought that came to mind escape your lips, tone so cold that it sent shivers down Yuta’s spine: 

“Happy birthday, asshole.”

With that, you turned and stormed away. You could hear Miri shouting your name, but you ignored her, feeling the need to be alone for a while. The anger that had consumed you just moments before slipped away into nothingness. Tears that you didn’t know you were holding back started to fall as you recalled the look on his face. He clearly remembered you, and yet he never made an effort to contact you. Did you really mean that little to him?  He was following his dream––you would have understood that. Did he have so little faith in you?

Questions and doubts flooded your brain as you slowly trudged back to the hotel.

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When you finally made it, a worried Miri greeted you at the front door.

“Oh my god, Y/N! I was literally freaking out. One second you were next to me giving death stares to Yuta, the next you were two blocks away and turning all these random corners. I thought you got lost or something!”

You let out a weak chuckle and held up your phone, “Google Maps, remember?”

“Okay, yes, technology is wonderful but still~~you can’t do that to me!” She paused briefly before continuing: “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I thought I just wanted to confront him, but seeing him today made me realize that he’s probably better off without me. If I mattered at all to him, he would have put in the effort to contact me. I just want to enjoy this vacation and go home like nothing happened.”

Rather than the words of encouragement you expected, Miri stayed silent. Curious, you looked up at her, only to be met with the nervous lip chewing that she did whenever she felt guilty about something.

(a/n: please excuse the caps, I honestly just didn’t know how to express the volume and franticness of this dialogue any other way lel)

“Miri… what did you do?” “DON’T BE MAD PLEASE! I SWEAR I DIDN’T KNOW YOU FELT THIS WAY BEFORE I INVITED HIM OVER TO––” “YOU WHAT??!!?!” “I’M REALLY SORRY, I THOUGHT YOU STILL WANTED TO YELL AT HIM SO I JUST IMPULSIVELY TOLD HIM WHERE WE WERE STAYING. HE DIDN’T GIVE ME A DIRECT ANSWER THOUGH SO HE STILL MIGHT NOT––“

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“––come…”

Your head dipped down as your fingers went straight to your temples, attempting to rub soothing circles to calm your mind.

This can’t be happening. Please tell me this isn’t happening.

A second series of knocks drew you out of thoughts. A sigh slipped past your lips, “Miri, can you please try to get rid of him? Tell him that I went back to Japan or something; I don’t think i can do this.”

She nodded and immediately turned to answer the door. You could hear the soft dialogue between them, and visibly cringed when Miri actually told Yuta that you flew back to Japan. Unfortunately, to your expectation, Yuta simply pushed passed Miri and began looking for you himself.

“I know you’re in here Y/N. Please, I need to talk to you.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from snapping, “We have nothing to talk about.”

To your duress, as Yuta entered the room, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat.

Damn these stupid emotions.

Miri was two steps behind him, an apologetic look plastered across her face. You gave her your, ‘it’s okay’ look, which she answered by mouthing, “I’m gonna leave now.”

Now it was just you two. You could see the guilt in his posture, eyes never moving away from his fidgety hands as he stood silently. Your gaze shamelessly wandered his face as you began to wonder if this was just a twisted dream. It was hard to believe that Nakamoto Yuta was right in front of you. It seemed like ages before he spoke again.

“I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. I left, I disappeared without a word, I was selfish. But I’m just gonna have to be selfish one more time. As soon as I saw you among the crowds, I knew I had to give you an explanation. You might not want to hear it, but I have to get this off of my chest. I’m sorry. I promise after this, if you decide you never want to talk to me or see me again, I’ll leave you alone.”

His eyes finally lifted up to your face, and he knew he had you. You left out a sigh and nodded.

“When I auditioned for SM, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want the people around me to expect too much because I truly did not think I was going to get in. But it happened. One day, they just called me, and next I knew I had to pack all my belongings and move to South Korea. They sent an agent to my house the day after I got the call, and he spent all day for the next three days explaining to me all the terms and conditions. When he wasn’t with me, I was packing or visiting family last minute. It was a mess. It was basically 3 AM when I finally had time for myself, and you were always sleeping by then. So of course, I thought, ‘Hey, why don’t I imitate one of those cheesy movies and write an intimate letter?’ But I, being me, woke up late the day of my flight and forgot to stick the damn thing in your mailbox. God, did I mention it was a whole mess?”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that threatened to break out. You couldn’t help it! Listening to him speak, watching him express himself, you saw the same boy you spent every day with just four years ago.

“Of course you would wait until the last possible minute to give me the letter and forget it.”

Yuta beamed. Hearing one of your sassy, quirky replies again was enough to make his week.

“Exactly! In hindsight, you should have known that I was just being stupid and not disappearing from the face of the Earth.”

You didn’t stop your smile this time.

“Anyways, when I made it to the dorms, they confiscated my cell phone! I asked for it back, but they said it was part of their trainee policy. Obviously I didn’t pay enough attention to the contract when the agent was going over it. But I already signed it so there was nothing I could do about it. I mean, they did let us write letters, but it was only once a month and you already know that my mom would have killed me if I didn’t write to her. The longer and longer it took me to mail a letter to you, the more I thought you’d hate me. I kept making excuses to myself about why I didn’t contact you, but the truth is I was scared you would never want to talk to me again. By the time I finally grew the balls to mail a letter, it was too late. My manager saw the name on the letter and said no.”

“Geez, what does your manager have against me?” you half joked.

“He wasn’t trying to target you specifically. I was already an SMRookie and we were going to debut soon. If anyone found out I was writing to an unknown person... well let’s just say they were afraid of unwanted rumors. Plus, my contract also has this policy about no dating until–”

“Well, what’s that got to do with me?”

“I–”

You couldn’t help but swell with pride when Yuta’s face turned tomato red, a smirk playing on your lips.

“I-I mean, uhm, w-we’re around the same age, ya know? And like... and they could assume? Or, uh.. or something... yeah.”

The mischief that gleamed in your eyes was replaced by a much more lighthearted amusement.

You’re too damn cute for your own good.

“Well, that’s not the point! The point is, I missed you. A lot. And I’d really like to hang out with you again. Please? Maybe grab a coffee or something?”

“And what about the dating rumors? Aren’t you afraid what the company will say?”

“I think it’d be fine if I just explained our friendship. We’ve been idols for a while now. And technically, they can’t stop me anymore because that the time period in which that part of the contract already was valid has already passed.”

You gnawed at your bottom lip, wondering if you should accept his offer. You really did miss him, and seeing him here in front of you, dorky as ever, made you miss him even more. Should you stay strong and let him go? Or abandon your pride have him in your life again? All it took was one look at his puppy dog eyes to convince you to give into your weakness. 

“Ok. Let’s go.”

[notthetoothfairy]

He’s Got You High

For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥

She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.

read on AO3

Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.

It reads, Kurt Hummel.

He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.

To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.

It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.

So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.

Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.

Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.

To: Blaine Anderson

From: Kurt Hummel

Subject: Paper Eggstension

---

Dear Mr. Blaine,

sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.

You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?

But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!

My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)

Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.

Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.

He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.

The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”

In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.

And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.

-

“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.

Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.

“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”

“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”

“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”

“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”

Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”

“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”

“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”

“What?”

“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”

He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.

“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”

“Again, the guy���s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.

“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”

Kurt whimpers.

“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.

Kurt lets out a miserable whine.

“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”

“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”

“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”

“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”

Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”

Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”

“In my grave, you mean?”

“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”

“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”

“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”

It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.

-

Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.

He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.

Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.

Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.

He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.

He looks up from his notebook with a smile.

“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”

Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.

And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”

Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.

Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?

-

“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.

He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.

Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”

“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”

“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.

“If…?” he asks quietly.

“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”

Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.

But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?

He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.

“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”

“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”

“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”

“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”

Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.

“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”

Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”

Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.

“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”

“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”

“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.

As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”

Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”

“I really didn’t mind.”

“Okay...”

“Like, really really.”

Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”

“Later, Blaine.”

-

Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.

Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.

“Talk to you later, Rachel.”

“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”

“Bye now!”

As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.

“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”

“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”

“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”

“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”

“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.

“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”

Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.

“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”

“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”

Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.

“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”

“What part of shut up-”

Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.

Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”

Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.

They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.

Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.

Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.

Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”

It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.