Characters: Kurt, Blaine, and the DAWG
Word Count: 1270
Summary: When Kurt picked up that French press at the thrift store, he didn't expect this. AU
Author's Notes: In celebration of finally taking my licensing exam and not having to study anymore...I wrote these cracky, angst-free drabbles. I’m not ignoring canon, but I think I’m all angsted out at the moment, which is saying something because I love angst.
"You're wearing a bow tie."
Blaine paused, mid-introduction, his arms faltering from where they were held aloft (and with gusto) on either side of his body. "I...Is it too much?" he asked uncertainly, brow furrowing as he glanced about for a mirror. When he spotted the full length mirror behind him, he turned around to survey his outfit.
The corners of Kurt's lips twitched. "Er...no. It...really compliments your ensemble," he finished lamely, despite it being true. The red accessory coupled with the white button down and navy vest was nothing less than charming on the curly-haired teen. Still, it didn't make it any less bizarre that a boy—a very cute looking boy—was standing in the middle of his bedroom, where only seconds before he was apparently present inside of the coffee press Kurt just bought. But, you know, bow ties. It was just about all Kurt could manage to focus on at the moment.
Blaine beamed as he spun back around and piped, "Thanks!"
Kurt cleared his throat. "You're welcome.” His eyes swept across the other’s body once more before saying, “It's just...well...I thought genie attire was pretty standard."
Blaine blinked once, tilting his head to the side in apparent confusion. So, Kurt explained, "You know, parachute pants and elf shoes—not..." Kurt waved his hands a little helplessly. "...something you would see on the cover of Vogue."
Blaine's eyes widened at that. "Last month's issue was phenomenal, wasn't it?" he gushed.
"Yes—I mean, no, that's not the point!"
Kurt's slightly hysterical voice echoed loudly off his bedroom walls, and he pressed his hand to his mouth once he realized he was shouting. In the awkward silence that followed, Blaine stared at Kurt while Kurt stared mutely back.
"So, my clothes are throwing you off," Blaine said in careful, even tones so as not to be misunderstood, "and not the fact that I just materialized out of that old French press?"
Kurt felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Well, when you put it like that, I feel all sorts of ridiculous now."
"Don't feel ridiculous..." Blaine trailed off and looked at him expectantly.
“Kurt,” Blaine repeated carefully as if savoring the word. Then, "Master." And if possible, Kurt’s face heated up more. "My name is Blaine, and I am a genie, who felt parachute pants were so very 64 B.C. I still have the shoes though. They're a great ice breaker."
Blaine winked, and Kurt huffed out a surprised laugh. Encouraged, Blaine, with that ever present and warm smile, continued, "I'm here to grant you three wishes, Master." With his head bowed and the palm of his right hand pressed over his chest, Blaine looked up at Kurt and said, "What will they be?"
"Wait, what do you mean you can't grant world peace? Not that that's my wish—oh, that came across rather selfish didn't it...?" Kurt muttered looking somewhat appalled when his eyes met Blaine’s before resuming his trek around the room.
Blaine rocked back and forth on his heels, a patient smile on his face as his eyes trailed after Kurt. Kurt who—after finally being convinced that Blaine was in fact a bona fide genie when he summoned a flock of canaries to harmonize the theme song to I Dream of Jeannie—was pacing about the room debating on what he should do—what he should wish for. Kurt pivoted one last time before settling in front of Blaine. "So...why no to world peace?” he asked curiously. “Are we so screwed up that even magic can’t fix us? Or is it too difficult?”
"It's not that I don't want to," Blaine denied, his hands clasped behind his back. "Or that it isn’t possible. Let’s just say that it never works out the way people expect and usually results in the wish being reversed." Blaine leaned forward, eyes earnest as he said, "I would rather you didn’t waste a wish, Master."
Kurt felt as if he should ask more about that, but let it go for the moment. "Okay,” Kurt replied dubiously. Then said, “What if I wished paisley was never invented. Is that doable?"
Blaine looked taken aback for a moment before his forehead crinkled into a frown. “But Kurt, I don’t think you're giving the understated design that is paisley enough credit. I mean just look at—”
At Kurt’s unamused stare, Blaine lowered his eyes to his converse clad feet and admitted reluctantly, "...Yes, that’s grantable.”
A slow grin spread across Kurt's face. “Excellent.”
"Present!" Blaine said, right hand shooting up into the air. Wes sighed.
"Yes, we established that already during roll call, Blaine." Blaine continued to smile, completely unrepentant, which prompted Nick to laugh beside him.
Wes shot Nick a pointed glare that had the latter coughing into his fist before falling silent. "In any case," Wes continued, "I hear you have a new Master."
Blaine visibly perked up at this. "Yes! His name is Kurt Hummel, and he wanted me to get rid of paisley."
Trent sputtered in protest, hand automatically moving to the paisley handkerchief he kept in his left breast pocket. Blaine was quick to reassure him. "I managed to convince him otherwise though."
"Thank, Allah," Trent breathed out in relief and the tension in his shoulders eased. Meanwhile, Wes' left eye began to twitch involuntarily. Taking pity on his co-chairman, David chastised Blaine on his behalf. "Blaine, what have we said about influencing a Master's wishes?"
Blaine straightened, cleared his throat, and recited in rote, "Under no circumstances are Genies permitted to guide or manipulate the wishes of our Masters."
“However...” David prompted when Blaine stopped.
"However, Genies are permitted and strongly encouraged to interfere under the following two conditions and only these two conditions.” Blaine pointed his right index finger into the air. “The first being the annihilation of the human race and/or the support of genocide. Animals are included, of course."
There were several approving nods and murmurs of consent throughout the room.
"Second, the..." Here Blaine faltered, his expression falling and he seemed unable to continue. A hand slid into his and when he glanced down, Nick squeezed it in support. Blaine shared a small smile with his friend before he inhaled a fortifying breath and said, "The...the abolishment of a cappella."
Cries of outrage filled the air.
"Who would dare?!"
“You mock us, sir!”
David side eyed Thad, who looked ready to pounce across the table and throttle Blaine for even mentioning it. Wes pounded his gavel to restore order. When the room settled once more (which took considerably longer than the last time the Dalton Academy Warbling Genies got riled up and that involved updating the PowerPoint presentation used to advocate a cappella), Wes said, "I trust you to abide by these rules, Genie Blaine. They are there for a reason."
Blaine nodded graciously, accepting the reprimand. "Of course." A beat passed. "Before we move on, I think it appropriate at this juncture to admit that I also likely convinced Kurt Hummel not to wish for world peace,” Blaine stated eyes focused just over Wes’ right shoulder. “But we all know how well that ever works out.” Blaine bit his lip at the ensuing silence and chanced a glance at Wes and yep, his left eye was twitching again. Despite the fact that the majority of the room was in agreement with him, if their nods were any indication, the DAWG co-chairman didn’t appear mollified in the least.
“It won’t happen again,” Blaine promised in a rush and then winced. “...probably.”
Wes closed his eyes and sighed.
Next Part: The Other Hummel