i’m challenging myself with 10 AU prompts to practice being patient with my writing. feel free to submit your own AU ideas, if you’d like.
au drabble: skank!kurt, cheerio!blaine
“What do you want, Hummel?” Blaine demands weakly, hands on his polyester-uniform-clad hips and an aggravated frown on his face. He nearly winces at the sound of his own voice—he hates that. He hates this new guy, Kurt Hummel, the skank, for reducing him to some nervous idiot so damn easily just by watching him with those stupidly piercing blue eyes.
Kurt’s absurdly-perfect eyebrows arch, and Blaine doesn’t miss the amused smirk playing on his lips as he uses his tongue to play with the thin silver ring there. It makes something hot and not entirely unpleasant twist in Blaine’s stomach.
“Nothing, Anderson,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk despite his rough, grunge look. It perplexes Blaine that this Hummel guy can look so put-together and so disheveled at the same time. Most people wouldn’t notice how much effort the boy puts into his faux-simple, punk rock attire. Blaine does. There’s too much thought, too much detail, and too fine an aesthetic for it to fit the carelessness the skanks normally exude. “Just admiring the scenery…”
Blaine’s eyes narrow in confusion. He’d been out on the football field to log a little extra practice time for some particularly difficult new flips and splits. The Cheerios are days away from their state competition and Coach Sue has been riding them hard, Blaine especially. He doesn’t mind—he likes the challenge. Still, it’s a little easier to focus on the moves when he isn’t being screamed at through a megaphone.
Normally he’ll do his extra practice at home in the safety of his own backyard, but his brother is in town, and the last thing he needs is even more criticism on his form.
He’d stopped when he felt eyes on him. Normally, Blaine loves the attention he gets from being a Cheerio, from being a performer, from being a star. He loves the applause when he nails a number. He loves the interviews on Sports Net. He loves the respect he gets in the hallways, despite the fact that he’s gay in a fairly-conservative school. He doesn’t mind an audience, but this is different.
Kurt Hummel was leaning against the edge of the bleachers, exhaling a long drag of a menthol cigarette when Blaine spotted him. Blaine righted himself from where he’d been bent over facing the opposite direction to stretch his legs out, intending to call the other boy out for staring.
Blaine wants to scoff. The only view he’d be getting would be of my ass—
He freezes, eyes widening. There had been rumors, of course, but none that had ever been confirmed. Stories of Kurt Hummel kissing boys under the bleachers (although where he found these queer boys at McKinley, no one knew) and breaking their hearts once they got hooked…
Kurt drops his cigarette, crushing the smoking remains with the toe of his boot.
“See ya around, Anderson,” he says, a teasing note in his tone.
Blaine tries to glare after him as he goes, he really does, but his eyes are too preoccupied with trying to memorize the shape of Kurt Hummel’s ass in those tight black jeans.
He gives up on practicing for the day and heads instead to the locker room showers—he suddenly finds himself needing to cool down.