Word Count: ~ 700
Summary: A lovely anon prompted me only one word - 'eyelashes'. Kurt is distracted and Blaine is to blame.
Author's Notes: I had a little bit of fun with free writing. Plus, Darren's (and in turn, Blaine's) eyelashes are just so bloomin' long and lovely to resist. I hope you enjoy!
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Kurt’s eyes are on him like radars, flickering away as quick as a flash the second he’s caught staring. They’ve been studying for around an hour and Kurt’s written a whole three words and retraced their thickness at least twice. Blaine knows. He’s watched and counted.
Kurt frowns, chewing the end of his pen. “What?”
“You,” Blaine laughs, fondly. “You’re distracted and quiet and it’s been approximately” – Blaine looks at the clock – “twenty minutes since you last complained about how uninventive Mr Schue’s Spanish assignments are. It’s a personal record.”
“Well, you’re clearly engrossed in your reading to be able to pay so much attention to me.” Kurt scowls playfully and returns back to his notepad, pen poised to begin but, again, nothing gets written. Blaine knows he’s tired. They’d almost fallen in the door after a vigorous dance session in preparation for Nationals but schooled themselves for a night of homework in the hope that they might have a whole day free for themselves.
Senior year sucks.
“Come on. Just tell me what’s on your mind,” Blaine urges with a sigh and loops his fingers around Kurt’s wrist drawing it to his knee, much to Kurt’s horror. He looks stricken and affronted at being manhandled but Blaine can see the sparkle in his eyes, which means only one thing - it will take mere moments for Kurt to soften like chocolate on a warm day.
“I’m perfectly fine, Blaine. I’m studying. We said we’d focus and try to get some work done so we could spend tomorrow shopping and day tripping. I was promised a lavish meal at that new Italian and I have a memory like an elephant – especially for the promise of fresh ala carte Gamberoni.”
Blaine smiles affectionately but shakes his head. “You weren’t studying. I noticed because I wasn’t either. Why are you so distracted? Did something happen at school that you didn’t tell me about?”
It takes less than a second for Kurt’s resolve to crumble, shoulders wilting and dropping forward as his head follows and he presses in close to Blaine. With a whisper of a sigh, he speaks into curls of Blaine’s sweater. “Your damned eyelashes.”
Blaine laughs quick and sharp. “My eyelashes. They’ve offended you?”
Kurt groans, shaking his head into the folds of material at Blaine’s neck. “Maybe.”
“You’re sleepy and supposed to be studying and my eyelashes have caused you to… what?”
“They’re distracting at the best of times,” Kurt tries eventually, sitting back a little but still so close that Blaine can feel his breath in gentle warm gusts against his own cheek. Kurt’s focus never leaves his eyes; it’s intimate – achingly so – and Blaine can’t quite move at the worry of losing Kurt’s sudden and unusual attention. “But tonight when you were reading they were… I don’t know. Moving.”
“My eyelashes were moving? As opposed to?”
Kurt huffs out a noise much like he’s scolding and swats lightly at Blaine’s leg, leaning in closer. “Stop being obtuse. Yes. They were moving. A lot. And it’s distracting. Especially when you’re reading.”
“I’m sorry,” Blaine says simply. What else is there to say?
Kurt laughs then with more than a hint of exasperation. “You don’t have to apologise for your rather endearing qualities, Blaine. I’m not complaining, just making a statement that you’re causing me to lose focus. They’re long and they flutter.”
Blaine hums to himself, amused, and leans a little closer so that Kurt’s face is a mere millimeter away. Lightly and careful not to startle, he blinks close and soft against the curve of Kurt’s cheek.
Kurt shudders noticeably but Blaine can feel the quick of his mouth and the lazy way his hands curl around Blaine’s elbows, holding him still. “How about we just forget about homework for this evening?”
Kurt’s thought process lasts for a split second before leaning back to throw his book closed and press the lid back onto his pen with an efficient click. He turns, eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile toying at his lips.
“Come on then, Anderson. Distract me.”