Klaine Oneshots

Cheerios and Uniforms

Looking back on it, Blaine thought, perhaps saying that to Kurt wasn't the wisest of choices.

It all started when the Dalton senior felt staring prickling at the back of his neck, and he turned around, casually meeting Kurt's eyes as though it were perfectly normal and fine to look directly back at the person who was (not so subtly - but, was he was one to talk?) staring at him for the past twenty minutes.

"Yes, Kurt?" he asked, an amused grin tugging at his lips as the countertenor seemed to try and compose himself from the embarrassing situation of being caught in the act.

"Must you really wear the uniform when classes are over?" Kurt demanded more than asked.

"Well, I don't exactly have time to change out of my uniform and into something more Kurt-presentable." Blaine responded, good-naturedly.

Kurt, however, didn't seem to take it that way, and though he didn't show it, Blaine knew.

"I was under the impression, however," the older boy began slowly, "that you like my uniform more than you let on." Ending his sentence with a smile, Blaine watched Kurt's ears go red.

"Admittedly, your uniform isn't made of as cheap thread or poor color-dye as others, but there are still plenty of changes needed to be made," Kurt sniffed.

Blaine listened with amusement; eyes bright as he stood up, Kurt watched him suspiciously, sitting himself down next to the other boy.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, a little breathlessly as his eyes flickered down Blaine's form.

"I was hoping for some consultation regarding Dalton's uniform." Blaine replied softly, not missing the flicker of emotion in Kurt's eyes.

"Well, for starters..." Kurt began, his hand reaching up to curl slender fingers around the striped tie. "You could fix this Harry Potter styled tie."

Glasz eyes flickered up to meet dark borderline black eyes. Blaine, still smiling, chuckled. "Really? I'm quite a big fan of Harry Potter. I quite like the tie."

"I suppose you'll want a scarf to match." The countertenor joked dryly.

"It couldn't hurt." Especially if they could share it.

Humming softly, Kurt's fingers around the tie tightened, before he tugged gently and brought their lips together.

Mouth curled upwards in a grin in the kiss, Blaine had never been so glad of uniforms before, not even after the unspoken promise of sleeping in longer due to the (extremely) limited choice of clothing.

Feeling Kurt's lips part after he nibbled on the lower lip, Blaine felt the soprano's hands trail elsewhere on his body; one hand entangled itself into his hair, fingers twisted and curling around the dark locks while the other rested on his breast, finger pads pressing down with gentle pressure as it traced the curly D emblazoned on the black cloth.

Blaine pulled away, watching Kurt as he breathed in and out shakily, eyelashes fluttering somewhat as Blaine's tie brushed against his hand.
Before the Dalton student could speak, however, Kurt opened his eyes, a frown that came out as more of a pout with his red, kiss-swollen lips.

He's so beautiful. Blaine thought, wondering how the world could be so cruel to such a person.

"Hush."

"I never said anything, Kurt."

The countertenor then gave him such a look that Blaine couldn't help but laugh a little and drop the act.

"I never knew you were into uniforms, Kurt." It was almost as endearing as the boy's terrible spying skills. Almost.

"It's not funny, Blaine." Kurt replied huffily, trying to look intimidating but failing.