#klaine advent: ordinary

[wowbright]

Fic: To Tell the Truth

Klaine Advent 2021: ordinary

Words: ~2700 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Blaine tells Kurt the whole truth.

Another vignette from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2021! This vignette takes place after Doubt Your Doubts. (If you haven’t read it, you should.)

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: Merry Christmas, beaches! The moment you’ve been waiting for is here. (Well, one or two of the moments, at least.) I know you're looking at the beginning of the chapter and thinking, “What? I wasn't looking for more angst.” Well, honey, you’ve got to get through the angst to get to the goods. So get going! P.S. Quad=Scriptures (Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price bound into one book)

--------

Blaine had messed up again. It seemed like a constant theme with him. He messed up when he was spontaneous and did things without thinking, and he messed up when he was deliberate and careful and trying so hard to unfold everything at a pace so slow it pained him.

He could hear Kurt crying in the bedroom, even though Kurt was obviously trying not to be heard. His sobs were stifled and choked. They were sharp knives to Blaine’s heart, stabbing him over and over again.

And it was all Blaine’s fault. The morning had been going fine. Kurt had been cheerful and happy. Blaine was the one who had made it all go to pot.

Blaine had done this to Kurt.

Blaine wiped his eyes. He gazed back down at his quad. Stupid Jonathan and David. Why had Blaine thought theirs was an inspiring story? It didn't matter how much they loved each other. The world tore them apart in the end. Jonathan died and David went whoring himself from woman to woman, never finding real love again.

“I'm sorry, God.” Blaine sunk down against the table, his forehead resting against his scriptures. “You love him so much and I love him so much and I just can't do anything right.”

Tell him the truth, a voice said. It was inaudible, but clear as crystal. Blaine felt it vibrate through his body, like when Moses stood next to the burning bush and felt the Lord’s voice through his bare feet.

“I did. I tried.” Blaine shifted miserably in his seat. He ran his fingers over his perfectly coiffed hair, searching for an errant curl he could tug on, but finding none.

Have you, really?

“Of course I have. I’m more open with Kurt than anyone I've been with in my life. I—”

Another sob broke from the bedroom like an accusation.

Blaine froze. Had he told Kurt the truth? Or had he been obscuring it, using sleight of hand to keep Kurt from seeing it because Blaine was too afraid of the repercussions?

Tell him.

“I can't. He doesn't want to hear it. Don't you understand what a betrayal it is? He doesn't want what I want. He wants to follow you.”

Me or the church?

Ugh. If this was God, he was certainly being difficult. “The church is the only way he knows how to get to you,” Blaine sniffled.

He was probably ruining his quad by crying into it. Blaine lifted his head and wiped his eyes. The cool metal of his CTR ring was a shock against his hot skin. And just as if Blaine had pressed play on Kurt’s MP3 player, the old hymn unfolded in his head.

Do what is right; let the consequence follow.

“Fine, Heavenly Father. Fine.”

Blaine closed his quad and fell to his knees. He prayed for strength courage and that Heavenly Father would grant him the small miracle of not letting him say anything stupid this time. Just the truth, plain and unadorned. He prayed for the Spirit to stay with him and give him words when he couldn't think of the right ones.

Warmth spread in Blaine’s chest. It was the burning of the bosom that confirmed he was asking for the right things, and God would give them to him.

“In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Blaine stood up. He splashed his face in the kitchen sink and refilled Kurt’s glass with water. He patted his front pocket to make sure a clean handkerchief was there.

He knocked on the bedroom door.

“Go away,” Kurt said. “I can't stand talking to you.”

“I know,” Blaine said. “I made a mistake. I'm sorry.”

Kurt didn't answer. He just resumed his crying.

Blaine cracked open the door. “You don't have to go through this alone, Kurt. I know you think you do, but you don't.”

Kurt was sitting on the floor, his back against the frame of his bed, his open scriptures on one side of him and a box of Kleenex on the other. He looked up at Blaine through swollen eyes. “You really believe that, don't you?”

Blaine nodded. “Here,” he said, holding out the glass of water through the crack in the door. “I don't want you to get dehydrated.”

Kurt made no move to stand up and get it. “If you insist.”

“So … can I come in?”

Kurt looked at the floor and gave a single nod.

Blaine stepped into the bedroom and sank down next to his companion, handing him the glass of water. Kurt took a tepid sip, and then another, and then tipped the glass back and gulped the whole thing down.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, handing the glass back to Blaine.

“Should I get you more?”  Blaine asked.

“Not yet.”

“Should I leave?”

“I don't know.”

They were quiet for a long time. Kurt stared across the room at a spot on the wall. Blaine looked at Kurt and the spot and the empty glass. He wouldn't push it. He would wait for his prompting.

“Do you understand how hard it is to have you as my best friend?” Kurt said after several minutes. He said it quietly, and to the wall.

The words should have smarted, but all Blaine felt was compassion. “I know it's not easy.”

“You're so … loving, Blaine. It hurts.”

“I don't want it to.”

“I know. But … No one has ever loved me the way you do. It's like ... You see me. You see all my flaws and all my weaknesses and you just don't care. And …” Kurt let out a shuddering sob. Blaine handed him his handkerchief. “I'm supposed to get that from the church. I'm supposed to get that from our leaders. I'm supposed to feel it in the celestial room of the temple. And I don't. There have been moments when I felt it in prayer, when I understood that God knows me inside and out and loves me just the way I am. But you, Blaine, you make me feel it all the time. And it hurts. Because I want to give myself over to it and it's not an option.”

“Why isn't it an option?”

“Blaine. You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“But …” I want to hear you say it, Blaine thought. Though as soon as he did, he understood he wasn't listening to the Spirit. He was listening to his own fear. He hadn’t come into this room so that Kurt could do the work for him. He had come here to tell the truth.

Oh, God, no. Please don’t make me. Please let's rewind all this and I can choose a different companion study topic and I can stop dropping hints and—“Kurt,” Blaine said, before he could become anymore obstinate. “I didn't come up with that companion study lesson for your sake. I did it for me.”

Kurt’s breathing shifted. The jagged edges on his stuttering exhalations started to smooth out. He turned toward Blaine. His eyes were the softest blue. “I don't understand.”

“I’m …” Blaine looked at the floor. No. He had to look at Kurt. He had to be brave. “I'm gay, Kurt.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out. His face was already pink, but now it became pinker, so dark in some places it seemed almost purple. He turned his head to one side, and then the other, so slowly that it took a moment for Blaine to realize he was shaking it. No, Kurt mouthed, and then, in a hoarse croak, “No. That’s impossible.”

“I'm so sorry I lied to you, Kurt. I mean, I was lying to myself first, or I don't know, is it even a lie if you're so overwhelmed by what other people want that you wouldn't recognize the truth if it slapped you in the face?”

“You’re confused, Blaine. You're just … you're too sympathetic. You're trying to put yourself in my shoes, and it's all getting blurry in your mind, and … you're straight, Blaine. You have to be. You’ve told me so from the beginning. That kind of thing doesn’t change overnight.” The words poured out of Kurt’s mouth fast but not quite furious. There was a sort of clinging desperation about them, like Kurt had spent his life hanging on the edge of a cliff, and Blaine had just kicked one of his hands loose from the edge.

Blaine wanted so badly to pull Kurt back up. To tell Kurt he was right, Blaine was confused, and everything could go back to its normal, lonely state.

But he couldn't. He couldn't offer Kurt that safety and comfort. If there was any other way that he could, he would. But he couldn't pretend. Not anymore.

Listen to the Holy Ghost and the words will come.

“Kurt, I’ve been gay my whole life. The evidence was all around me, but I never let myself see it because I didn't want to disappoint other people. And I know it must sound crazy to you, because you've known about yourself for as long as you can remember. But Kurt, I'm not like you. I’ve never known myself. Not really. I've spent my life letting other people tell me who I’m supposed to be, and I didn't even notice I was doing it. All I knew was that I had to be a good Mormon boy. Someone who's reverent and quiet and controls his emotions and doesn't step outside the bounds of what's expected of him. The obedient, straight son of a general authority. A boy destined for an ordinary Mormon life—baptism at eight, priesthood milestones at the expected ages, a mission, temple marriage to an obedient wife and more kids than either of us can handle, a comfortable six-figure job in finance or business or law to support all of them, and callings with so much responsibility that I barely get to spend any time with them. I listened to other people telling me who I was and what I wanted, and I let myself believe that it was true. Because it had to be true. Because if it wasn't true, if I wasn't created in that image … do you understand what that would have done to my family, Kurt? To my dad? The only thing he cares about is serving in the church, and what leader was going to call him to a position of authority if he couldn’t keep order in his own house?”

Blaine only realized he was trembling when Kurt touched him, resting his fingers on the back of Blaine’s hand. Whether it was nerves or the Spirit or the sheer overwhelming experience of speaking things you didn't even know were true until you said them, Blaine wasn’t sure. But Kurt’s touch was reassuring. It always was. Blaine prayed he wouldn't lose it.

“I'm so sorry, Blaine,” Kurt said gently.

“I guess I thought, if I could just be the perfect Mormon boy, if I just tried hard enough, then I would get all the blessings they promised us in Sunday school—a perfect family, a happy life, a future that was certain.” Blaine paused. “And that's how I came to you, Kurt. I came to you broken and scared and not knowing who I was. I mean, my patriarchal blessing says I’m supposed to get married in the temple and my bishop back home said …” Oh, Lord, there’s too much to explain.

“I'm listening,” said Kurt.

Blaine took a deep breath. “Somewhere inside, I always knew. But I guess I was waiting for a crystal-clear sign. And I wasn't getting one, and kissing girls didn't gross me out, and I suspected I spent more time looking at boys than other guys did, but I told myself it was because I was vain or confused or … I went to my bishop about it. He told me I was straight. And I was so confused and torn up, and he seemed so confident. And I thought, why would a bishop lie? He’s got a more direct connection to God than I do. So I put my faith in him. I put my faith in him and the church and in everyone who said I was going to make a worthy sister in Zion so happy one day. And then ….” Blaine swallowed heavily. He turned his hand over in Kurt’s, palm to palm. He looked into Kurt’s eyes. “And then I met you. And I couldn’t pretend anymore. Because … you’re the world to me, Kurt. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide. He inhaled sharply. He squeezed Blaine’s hand. He didn't look pleased and he didn't look upset. He just looked … stunned.

“And I’ve been so scared to tell you, because I don't know if you feel the same way, and even if you do … there's nothing I can ask of you. I love you, Kurt. And you love the church. And I want things that—”

“You can ask anything of me, Blaine.” Kurt’s voice was breathless and raspy, like he'd just run a marathon and could barely summon the air to speak. He turned his body toward Blaine’s and reached across for his other hand. “You must know I wouldn’t refuse you.”

Blaine’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. Was this happening? Was this really happening? Or had he fallen asleep on top of his quad in the kitchen and created this elaborate dream where he was brave and Kurt was braver and they could have anything they wanted?

“Blaine, I love the church. But I love God more. And I love you more. And—” His eyes flickered down Blaine’s face and back up again. Kurt sucked his bottom lip in. “I'm scared, too. But I want everything with you. I want you to love me.”

Blaine could not stop staring at Kurt’s mouth, all pink and lush and indescribably beautiful. “Can I—”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine had kissed lots of people before. He knew the texture of lips against lips, the soft and satisfying slide of flesh against flesh.

But when he kissed Kurt, it was as if he was kissing someone for the first time. Because he didn't only feel it on his mouth—though, wow, he certainly felt it there. He felt the kiss spread through his body, into his fingertips and toes. It tingled across his scalp and made his heart do a somersault and his hands move of their own accord. He curled his fingers under Kurt’s ear, pulling him closer—their faces were mashed together but it wasn’t enough, Blaine needed more of Kurt, wanted to crawl inside him, wanted Kurt inside of him, and oh boy, Blaine felt a little dizzy with that thought but it was a glorious kind of dizziness, the kind people seek out on roller coasters and merry-go-rounds, and Blaine wanted more of it.

Kurt dropped his mouth open and pushed his tongue tentatively against Blaine’s lips.

Blaine's brain melted. He heard himself make a desperate moaning sound that would have been embarrassing in any other context, but not here. He felt Kurt smile against his mouth, and yes yes yes, Kurt was smiling, Kurt liked this, Kurt liked kissing Blaine and listening to his stupid sounds and Kurt loved him and—oh. So that’s what French kissing was supposed to feel like.

And now Kurt was making sounds: gasps and sighs and half-laughs that could never be completed because they couldn't keep their lips unattached long enough for the sound to get out. He was stroking little circles on the back of Blaine’s neck with his fingertips, and a delicious current was flowing down Blaine’s spine, and Blaine was hard—and that was a first, to get hard while kissing someone, and wow it felt glorious. He wondered if Kurt was hard, too, and then he wondered how Kurt liked to be touched, and if someday Kurt would want Blaine to touch it like that, and—okay, buddy, getting a little ahead of yourself there.

Blaine pulled back for air.

“Wow,” Kurt said.

“Wow,” Blaine echoed.

They dove back in for more.

[gleekto]

Fic: Crush Into Me (20/22)

Summary:  Third year NYADA student, Kurt, returns to Lima for an internship coaching the Glee club. The leather jacket and eyebrow ring-clad senior, Blaine, thinks he’s cute.

slightly older teacher-ish!Kurt/ badboy!Blaine

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen

Day Twenty (Kurt) (word (yes, out of order, I know) - Ordinary):

“Fuck me,” Blaine says simply. “Seriously. I want you to fuck me.”

“What?” This was definitely not in Kurt’s plan though his body is responding to just hearing the words come out of Blaine’s mouth. “No Blaine, honestly.”

“Honestly,” Blaine sing songs, tracing Kurt’s cock with his index finger now. Kurt shivers. “I know you’ll make me feel good. I mean if you want to,” Blaine hesitates for a moment.  “And if that’s something you like to do?” Blaine is considerate even when offering him to have his cake and eat it too.

Kurt laughs. He actually does like to top but Blaine’s concern is sweet. You’d think Kurt’s doing Blaine a favour. “It is.” Kurt looks at Blaine for doubt but he is all sincerity.  Kurt takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah okay. I will. I will make you feel so good.” 

“I know,” Blaine breathes and nods in affirmation, eyes sparkling. “And just in case you missed the memo, this is my first time.” The words might be a sign of hesitancy said in a different way or by someone else but Blaine is just being matter of fact. 

“I got the memo.” Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand.

“And Kurt?” Blaine continues. “I’m ready.” Blaine grins, still sex-kissed and loose from his own orgasm. Then, just like that, he hugs in his knees. He’s presenting himself. Jesus. Kurt bites his lip and stares as he blushes against his will. What is he supposed to do? Blaine just did that. Blaine, though, seems to relish the attention, “Like what you see?” 

“Oh my god. Who are you even, Blaine?” Kurt is beet pink and shaking his head but manages to get up to get the lubricant and condoms from his bag. He will not last long in this situation.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Blaine answers.

“I guess so.”

Blaine is willing and open throughout the prep, his enthusiasm and vocalization an unintentional aphrodisiac. Kurt is sure he would come in seconds if he touched himself. “How’s two?” Kurt asks.

“Good,” Blaine pants, a bead of sweat on his forehead. “I like your fingers inside me. Try three.”

“That’s it, Blaine. You have three,” Kurt is actually impressed. Blaine is hard again and Kurt can see the effortful pride on his face. He is probably a bit uncomfortable, but he’s so determined.  “You’re doing perfectly, Blaine. Your body is so open - easy to get my fingers in.” Blaine is just so responsive. It is easy. Physically. But also emotionally. “Honestly-” Kurt pauses. He can’t say it.

“Honestly what?” Blaine is panting slightly, eyes opening and closing with the movement of Kurt’s fingers.

“This is a ridiculous thing to say but,” Kurt’s cheeks are hot. “You’re like, a natural.” 

“Ah!” Blaine vocalizes as Kurt’s fingers hit higher. “Yeah,” He breathes. “I hope so.”

Kurt is shaking his head and Blaine is smiling impishly at him.  “I’m going to take out my fingers now and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?” Blaine nods. “Fair warning that I am bigger than three fingers.”

“I can see that.” He gestures at Kurt’s body between deep breaths. “I’m ready.”

Kurt is gentle but firm and Blaine holds his legs up, opening as wide as possible as Kurt enters him. “That’s it, Blaine. Breathe. Breathe.” Blaine makes a gutteral noise of deep pleasure mixed with effort. “You’re so vocal. God. So good. I’m going to move now.” And he does. In and out. Kurt hears the sound of sweaty skin on sweaty skin and Blaine’s rugged noises as he lets Kurt fuck him. “It’s amazing the way your body is responding.”

Kurt likes sex. And sex with Kevin was one of the highlights of their otherwise ordinary relationship. But watching Blaine respond in rhythm as he moves, his openness, his sounds - it’s like driving, lulling music coursing through him. Sex with Blaine is better. “Ahhh!” Blaine screams and comes again as Kurt comes inside him. What a time to have this little realization. 

“Holy shit. Wow.” Blaine says as if reading Kurt’s mind. Kurt pulls out of him and grabs tissues.

“Ummm yeah,” Kurt agrees, wiping them up gently before lying down cuddled next to Blaine. “You’re sure that was your first time?” It’s a trite compliment, sounds silly on his lips, but ‘Sex with you was a revelation’ feels like too much.  Blaine rolls his eyes dismissively. “You know, I really was not expecting that tonight.”

“I’m an enigma, remember? I’m full of surprises.”

Kurt turns his face towards Blaine and bites at his shoulder. “You know I don’t usually like surprises. Liking control and all that. But with you, I can tolerate them.”

“I’ll take it.” Blaine turns and kisses him, open and slow, his hand resting softly on Kurt’s butt cheek. “And I like it when you take control.”

[darriness]

Klaine Advent 2021 - Day 22 - Ordinary

Author: darriness

Word Count: 683

Summary: Christmas Eve #22

Author's Note: I kinda love this one. I hope you do too!

AO3 Link

Friends.

Just friends.

That’s what Kurt insists his relationship with this Blaine kid is. But Burt Hummel is more observant than people give him credit for. He may be a working class mechanic, but he’s worked hard over the last couple of years to become more sensitive and observant, especially when it comes to his son.

He’s still learning, but he feels like he’s come a long way.

And as he watches Kurt and Blaine interact tonight, he’s observant enough to know that ‘just friends’ is a load of bullshit.

Kurt had asked if he could invite Blaine to the Christmas Eve party Burt and Carole were throwing. It’s their first Christmas as a blended family and they wanted to celebrate with friends and family. Burt had been curious why Kurt had asked to invite Blaine instead of his friends from McKinley, but he’d agreed because he’s also been curious about the boy Kurt won’t stop talking about.

“Sure. I’d love to meet this boy you won’t shut up about. Sounds pretty amazing.” Burt had commented when Kurt had asked.

He’s gotten better at reading his son, but he would have noticed the blush on his cheeks even if he WASN’T paying attention, “He’s just an ordinary boy, Dad.” Kurt had huffed, “We’re just friends.”

Burt’s not sure about either description. Blaine isn’t like any kid he’s ever met. There’s nothing ‘ordinary’ about him. From the way he dresses (though Burt is used to strange outfits from Kurt), to the way he talks (‘Good evening, Mr. Hummel, it’s a pleasure to meet you’), to the slick back hair. It’s like he’s from a different time period.

And the ‘just friends’ part. Again, total bullshit.

Burt’s watched the two of them most of the evening and he’s noticed a few things. For one, they haven’t left each other’s sides. And while that isn’t strange considering Blaine knows no one else at the party, they’ve almost been pressed from shoulder to hip all night. Burt has never stood that close to his friends. He’s also never bitten his bottom lip as much as Kurt has this evening. It seems like everything Blaine says is a recipe for Kurt’s eyes to light up and his bottom lip to slide between his teeth.

And now, he watches as the pair stand by the front door. They’ve been there for probably the last fifteen minutes at least. Blaine has to go home to spend the rest of the evening with his family. He’d said his ‘thank you’s and his ‘goodbye’s and his ‘This was a wonderful party, Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hudson-Hummel’ and now one would assume he’d leave. But he hasn’t. He and Kurt have stood facing each other in front of the door for, now, almost twenty minutes, Blaine fiddling with the car keys in his hands.

Burt has stood similarly with girls in his youth outside their parents’ house, not wanting to say goodbye and working up the courage to lean in and kiss them.

Burt holds his breath, wondering if that’s what will happen now between his son and his ‘friend’. Eventually, though, Blaine gives Kurt a small smile, says something that Burt can’t hear, gives a little wave, and then he pulls open the door and is gone. Burt keeps watching as his son looks at the now closed door for a moment, before sighing and turning to come back to the party (looking just a little bit sad).

“They’re so cute.” Carole’s voice makes Burt jump slightly and he turns to find her beside him, smiling at where Blaine and Kurt were just standing.

“You don’t think…” Burt says, but he’s not sure how he wants to finish the sentence.

Carole shrugs, “I don’t think they know what’s going on. But they’ll figure it out eventually.”

She pats his arm and then moves on to talk to someone else at the party, leaving Burt to pout thoughtfully. Something tells him he’s soon going to go through a whole new learning curve when it comes to his son - dating.

He’s not sure he’s ready.

[klaineadvent]

[forabeatofadrum]

I’d cry a river just for you (22/24)

AO3 

--

ORDINARY - The Last Five Years

2013

Mercedes: wow

Mercedes: holy shit

Mercedes: for real?

Me: yes

Me: I’m done

Mercedes: That’s strong.

Mercedes: alright, I’ll let you know how it goes

--

On Saturday evening, Mercedes sends Kurt a text, telling him that a lot happened. So she’s coming round to talk about it.

On Sunday, Mercedes is sitting on Kurt’s bed and Kurt hates the sight of it. There were never any rules, but usually that’s Blaine’s spot. He doesn’t have time to complain, because Mercedes’s talking non-stop as if she’s gotten the latest juicy gossip.

But it isn’t gossip. Gossiping is fun. This isn’t fun.

“And I also majorly called him out on his blatant favourism,” Mercedes continues, “Like, I asked him why the hell he’s acting so differently to you and that absolute asshole tried to paint me as the better friend. So I reminded him of all the times you supported him and stood at his side and what not. Honestly, I should’ve snapped a photo of his face! He looked so embarrassed. I had him backed in a corner!”

“Nice,” Kurt says.

Okay, this isn’t fun, and none of this should’ve happened, but Kurt and Mercedes feel some sort of schadenfreude from all of this.

“But from what I’ve gotten, he got really angry at you when you said that you turned off your phone. He went on and on how I was there for him, whereas you did that. I corrected him and I reminded him that I was ready to ditch him the moment I sent my mean messages. You wanted to give him space. Again, oh man, Kurt… his face!”

Kurt nods to himself. He knows Blaine and he also understands that this is a deeper issue, but Mercedes is right. Kurt gave Blaine the chance over and over again. The last two years of friendship were basically on borrowed time. It never got better after the hemp canvas thing.

“But yeah, that’s that,” Mercedes finishes lamely, “What now?”

Kurt shrugs.

“We can’t do anything.”

“He knows you hear all of this. I told him so upfront. I think he wants to talk to me some more.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Mercedes frowns.

“I am ditching him, Mercedes,” Kurt says with more confidence in his voice than the confidence in his body, but he needs to keep this up. He needs to continue telling himself this is good. “Not you. If you two hang out, that’s fine by me.”

Mercedes looks doubtful and Kurt also wonders if Mercedes will do so, but it’s also true. The idea of Mercedes and Blaine being friends does sting, but Kurt’s not the boss of them.

“I just wish I could… I don’t know. Have the last word?”

“Last word how?”

“Now he just blocked me. That’s it. Done. I have no chance to say anything anymore. And I don’t know if I want that, but remember what happened two years ago? I told him I needed closure.”

Mercedes nods.

“You could write a letter?” she suggests, “I can hand it to him.”

Kurt shakes his head. He wants Blaine to listen, but he has no idea how. Kurt doesn’t feel like barging in unexpectedly, and a part of him is still too angry to do so.

Then, he has an epiphany.

--

It’s an ordinary day. The birds are chirping. The sun is shining. Cars are racing down the street. It’s such a shame that it is such an ordinary, normal day, because to Kurt, this day will change everything.

Kurt’s holding his phone at the speakers of his laptop. He’s playing Goodbye Until Tomorrow/I Could Never Rescue You from The Last Five Years. He saw the show earlier in the spring when it was running Off-Broadway.

I could never rescue you All you ever wanted But I could never rescue you No matter how I tried All I could do was love you hard And let you go

Kurt listens to the lyrics and he hopes that Blaine will understand when he gets this voice message. It’s already fifteen minutes long. Kurt’s told Mercedes of his plan: Kurt needs to have the final word, especially since Blaine is being unfair. First he acts like a dick, then when people confront him, he decides to ghost them, and then all the weird thing with Mercedes happens.

Finn doesn’t trust it. He wonders if Mercedes and Blaine have their own plan behind Kurt’s back, but Kurt would never believe that. Mercedes is genuinely as baffled and angry as Kurt.

But yeah, a lot of unfairness happened. Kurt gave Blaine the time and space to reach out, but he didn’t and then he once again made Kurt feel like the bad guy by blocking him and not Mercedes. Kurt isn’t going to let that happen.

He started this voice message with anger. Kurt might have thrown some low blows in it, but he’s angry. He told Blaine to get the fuck over himself. He showed how unreasonable Blaine is being by being mad at Kurt for ‘not caring enough’ when Kurt said he needed to turn off his phone to help Carole, whereas Mercedes absolutely destroyed Blaine through messages and she is apparently the kinder one. At one point, Kurt spits out that he’s fucking done with this one-sided friendship, where Kurt and Mercedes are the ones trying to meet up and text and hang out, only for Blaine to bitch and whine when they do.

But now that Kurt’s listening to the song that he’s incorporating into his message, he feels sad. Jamie sings about how he has to let Cathy go for his own well-being.

Kurt hopes he isn’t like Jamie, though, since the musical portrays him as the asshole, but the song stands on its own.

The song ends and Kurt’s silent for a while before he has the time to compose himself. He was angry before, but now he’s actually said what he wanted to say, which leads to one last thing to do. He lets out a shaky breath.

“So. This is it, then?” Kurt says and he laughs bitterly. He can feel the tears stream down his face. Blaine won’t be able to see it, but Kurt’s voice alone exudes sadness. “This is goodbye. I didn’t expect it- I didn’t want it, but you’ve made your choice, so now I am making mine. I don’t even know if you’ve listened this far, or if you ever listen to this in the first place, but if you’re hearing this then know that I loved you. Love you.”

He wonders if Blaine will interpret this as platonic love, which is fair. That’s also true. Kurt’s already learned that he has two kinds of love in his heart for Blaine.

“And I will miss you terribly, but I also need to choose for myself here. Not only that, but I’m selfish. Our friendship in the last two years was on borrowed time and it was filled with anger and frustration. I couldn’t even think of you without getting mad and I don’t want that. By ending this, I hope I can now look back on the good parts without the additional anger. There was a lot of good, Blaine, there was. The last two years don’t sullen those good memories. Fuck, remember Spelling Bee?”

Kurt laughs a genuine laugh. The character of Chip made Blaine’s mom leave!

Speaking of…

“Say hi to your mom from me, since I probably won’t see her either. And say hi to Cooper and your dad. I don’t- I admit I never got to really know them, but give them my regards.”

Kurt lets out another sigh and he sniffs. He’s rehearsed what he wanted to say, but now that the end is nearing, he’s throwing all those plans out of the window.

“Well. I hope you have a great life. I am saying that without any hint of sarcasm. I genuinely hope you’re well. I hope you wish me the same. Goodbye.”

And then Kurt saves the recording and he sends it to Mercedes. That’s it. Blaine’s now in the past.

[thnxforknowingme]

It's Who I'm With (22/24)

Summary: In an attempt to make industry connections (and pay rent), Kurt gets a job as a nanny for the daughter of a Broadway producer. When bringing her to a piano lesson one day in December, he meets Blaine Anderson, personal assistant to a famed pianist. (For Klaine Advent 2021)

Rating: T

Previous Parts | Read on AO3

Twenty-Two: Ordinary

They discovered a bakery nearby where they ordered pastries and apple cider, and sat along a counter in the front window. As Kurt picked at his croissant, he asked, “can I explain myself more?”

Blaine looked up at him. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Kurt smirked. “Well, Mariah’s words are powerful, and I meant them,” he said. “But I just want to make sure you understand.”

Blaine gestured with his hand, indicating go ahead, so Kurt did. “I haven’t had a lot of luck…with romance, and I am maybe not the most trusting of people,” he admitted. “So, even though everything you did was sweet and lovely, I just - was waiting for the other shoe to drop, I guess.”

“Kurt -” Blaine started, but Kurt cut him off.

“It’s okay,” he said. “As soon as I got some space I realized how dumb that was. So I’m just really grateful that you’re willing to overlook that, because - I like you, Blaine. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

Blaine smiled at him. “I want that, too.” He sipped his cider, then set it down carefully. “And - I am sorry, if I went kind of overboard with the Christmas stuff.”

“No,” Kurt insisted, “it’s -”

“Hey,” Blaine said, his mouth twisting wryly, “you got your explanation, let me give mine.”

Kurt laughed, then pressed his lips shut and looked at Blaine expectantly.

“I promise I wasn’t trying to - however you put it, make things into a Hallmark movie.” Blaine told him. He paused, and took a deep breath. Kurt noticed that he sat up straighter, his shoulders and neck held more stiffly before he spoke again. “When I was growing up,” Blaine said, “Christmas was the only time my extended family got together, and honestly it was when my immediate family spent the longest periods of time together. That meant that the holiday was basically just one long period of tension and discomfort and clipped arguments. So I kind of…maybe got unnecessarily obsessed with the idea of Christmas I saw in movies. I wanted that magic, because it was so different from how awkward and just - ordinary my own Christmas was. I haven’t seen my family that frequently since high school, and honestly that’s mostly for the best.” He exhaled, shook his head slightly. “I threw a few orphan Christmases in college, you know, hosting other people who didn’t go home to get drunk on peppermint schnapps and sing carols and have a jolly time. That’s not really in the cards this year, so maybe I dealt with that by going a little bit overboard.”

“It wasn’t,” Kurt insisted, reaching forward to take Blaine’s hand between his own. “It was all - if I hadn’t been so jaded, I could have appreciated it. I love that you try to bring magic to other people’s lives, that’s - incredible.”

Blaine smiled, the light seeming to return to his eyes. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Kurt stared at Blaine, feeling the solid warmth of his hand, and took a deep breath. “Blaine - I know this is kind of weird, and you’re totally welcome to decline. But if you do want to have plans on Christmas…would you want to spend it with me and my parents?”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”

Kurt laughed. “I am actually sure that they would love you, and would be happy to take you in. It’s not going to be anything extravagant - we’ll just be at my apartment, and I’m going to cook way too much food for the three of us, and we’ll watch movies and my dad will keep wanting to check the basketball game. If that sounds at all appealing to you, you’re totally welcome to come.”

Blaine grinned and said, “wow, Kurt, meeting the parents already, that’s a big step.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to be charitable.”

Blaine shifted his hand so that he could rub the pad of his thumb along Kurt’s knuckles. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine Advent 2021

Day 22: Ordinary 

Summary: Blaine has a bad day.

Ao3

His day was off from the moment he woke up. Blaine slept through his alarm and completely missed his first class of the day. Since he had nothing urgent until noon, he took his time with breakfast yet still burnt his omelet and toast. His shower never reached the proper temperature, he ripped his pants, and his shirt was missing two buttons in the middle. By the time he was out the door, Blaine was sure the day was only going to get messier. 

Today had started out anything but ordinary to say the least. 

When Blaine finally got to campus, he immediately stepped in a muddy puddle ruining the bottoms of his pants. He stopped to get a coffee to pick himself up and burnt his tongue. The line for coffee had been so long, he rushed into class and made it just in time. The one saving grace thus far. Then, he’d gone and spilled his coffee halfway through the lecture. 

After his classes finished for the day, the subway was late. Like really late. So late, in fact, Kurt had called Blaine to see if he was going to make it home for dinner. 

Rachel had made vegan ziti. It was packed away when Blaine came in the front door. Thankfully, Kurt was right there in the kitchen volunteering to heat up a bowl full for his fiancé. 

“Hey honey, how was your day?” He asked. 

Blaine could have cried. He did tear up while Kurt’s back was still turned. 

“Terrible, honestly.” 

“What? Why?” Kurt questioned, pushing the bowl of food closer to Blaine. 

Blaine ate some ziti before explaining how his morning felt like he took a jump off a cliff. Instantly, Kurt wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck between bites of pasta. 

“Tomorrow is another day. A better day,” Kurt told him. “And I love you if that helps.” 

Blaine smiled. “It does. I love you.” 

When he finished his dinner, he said, “Do you think you’ll be able to save my pants?” He held out his legs to show Kurt the damage. 

Kurt took a moment to examine them, “absolutely, take them off and I’ll do them now.” 

“Can I take them off and you’ll do me now?” Blaine asked with a smirk. 

Kurt slapped his shoulder and called him a dirty boy. 

“Literally!” Blaine exclaimed, pointing to his muddy bottoms. 

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 - “Taste of Heaven” (Rated G)

Summary: All Kurt wants for Christmas is a good night's sleep, but Blaine has a cookie emergency that threatens to rob him of the twelve hours of shut-eye he was hoping for.

But that might be a good thing. (1582 words)

Notes: Written for the Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 prompts: rise, ordinary, qualification, work, cup, and company.

Read on AO3.

"Kurt?"

Kurt murmurs something vaguely resembling the word what while keeping his eyes closed. He has no intention of opening them. Opening his eyes means rise and shine!

Nope.

That's not him. 

Not yet.

The past few years, he has wanted only one thing for Christmas - a good night's sleep. That way, he doesn't look like a bleary-eyed mess when family stops by. Not that much family will be stopping by with the new social distancing measures in effect. 

His father and stepmother won't be. 

Even though they’ve all gotten the vaccine and the booster, it's not worth the risk. Not with the way the number of virus cases has been climbing again. But Cooper will be by, accompanied by Blaine's mom.

Kurt would rather not look like death warmed over when they get there.

Kurt worked hard to get to bed as early as he could. He'd finished wrapping presents days before, had their daughter's new bike assembled at the shop where he bought it, and finished tomorrow's food prep all before nine.

He's not waking up early unless someone is dying.

Even then, he’ll require proof.

"Help. Kurt? Help… "

Kurt's lips twist into a calculating grin. "What is it, Taylor?"

Three beats of silence pass, and then, "That's not funny, Kurt."

"You mean not funny like when you came home drunk from your bachelor party and called me Tom?"

Kurt hears Blaine gulp and bites his teeth together to keep from laughing.

"Touche. But I need you to wake up."

"No. I got to sleep early. It's all I wanted, so that's what I'm doing. You promised you wouldn't wake me till ten a.m.."

"I know I did, unless it was an emergency."

“Unless it was an emergency," Kurt mimics. But when realization hits, he shoots up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress with his eyes still shut. "What... what's going on? Is it Tracy? Is she hurt?"

"No. She's okay." Blaine takes his husband's hands in his and gives them a tug. "Can you please just come with me?"

"Can you explain first? Because all of this mysterious mystery isn't doing my heart any favors."

"Sorry." Blaine continues to tug on his husband’s hands until Kurt groans reluctantly to his feet. "Here's the run-down - Tracy woke me up about an hour ago to make cookies… "

Kurt frowns. "Cookies?"

"A-ha."

"This is a cookie emergency?"

"Sort of?" Blaine admits lamely.

Kurt stops walking. "You've made about a million cookies in your lifetime. Why do you need my help?"

"Because this time I'm a little out of my wheelhouse."

Kurt snickers, then he snorts, and because the situation has gone from annoying to amusing, he starts walking again, allowing his husband to lead him to the kitchen. "You have a cookie-making wheelhouse?"

"Focus, Kurt. Focus."

"Sorry. I did just wake up."

"She didn't want to make any ordinary cookie," Blaine continues, nudging guilt aside for the greater good. "She wanted to make your mom's Lacy Almond and Mexican Chocolate Roll-Ups."

"Wow. Look at our little Tracy, scaling Mt. Everest.”

“Yup. She takes after you that way.”

Kurt hears the smile in his husband’s voice. Flattery does go far in their relationship. Kurt won’t lie. But he knows his husband. 

He knows he’s sincere.

“Did she make it safely to the top?" Kurt asks.

"Not quite. They turned out a little… “ Blaine pauses and hems, searching for a tactful way to describe the situation “… wrong. And I don't have the necessary qualifications to fix them."

Kurt stops walking when his hip bumps the counter. He'll have to open his eyes eventually, but he’s stalling for as long as possible. Just a few more seconds of blissful blackness. That's all he asks.

"I know that's my mom's most complicated cookie recipe, but I'm sure they can't have turned out too - whoa!" Kurt stares, drop-jawed, at the sheet of congealed black before him, center oozing a blacker substance still. The cookies are supposed to be light as air, delicate, pale on the outside, with a swirl of cocoa peeking through the ends. 

These don’t look like his mom’s roll-ups. 

They don’t even resemble cookies.

“Too much brown sugar,” Kurt deduces under his breath, “not enough flour, too high heat, jeez… “

Three years ago, Tracy built a model of The La Brea Tar Pits for school. She used a combination of dirt, peat, and Elmer’s glue to create the base.

These “cookies” look exactly like that.

He gives it a poke. It makes a popping sound, and he physically recoils. "What happened?"

"Let's just say mistakes were made," Blaine says quietly. Kurt thinks he catches Blaine cross himself once or twice. "But now I need your help to fix them."

"Scrape them into the trash and cover them with coffee grounds. She'll think Santa ate them, like every year."

"Uh... that’s the thing. She didn't make them for Santa. She made them for you."

Kurt tilts his head, meets his husband's gaze. "For me?"

"Yeah. She said she wanted you to have something special for Christmas."

"But we make cookies all the time."

“It’s not about the cookies. It’s about… your mom.”

Kurt’s eyelids narrow as he tries to get that comment to make sense. “What about my mom?”

Blaine runs a tired hand through his mussed curls and looks down at his feet. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

“That means you should probably tell me,” Kurt retorts, knowing his logic is flawed. But this early in the morning (three, he thinks, if he can trust his microwave), logic doesn’t exist.

He’ll broach the subject with his husband later when he’s conscious.

“I guess she overheard you on the phone with your dad,” Blaine explains. “Talking about how much you miss your mom over the holidays and… “

“Say no more,” Kurt mumbles, shame catapulting him fully awake. Frick.

No wonder he didn’t get the lead in West Side Story. He obviously isn’t as good an actor as he takes himself for.

Kurt adores Christmas. Always has. He’s not religious, but he loves the ritual of the holiday: planning, decorating, buying gifts, going to parties and school plays and dinners with his friends and family. He has even suffered through a few midnight masses so that their tiny trio could spend quality time with Tracy’s mom, Mercedes. Participate in her holiday traditions.

But he hasn’t enjoyed Christmas as much lately as when he first became a father. 

As Tracy gets older, everything feels like a chore, especially as they struggle with the COVID pandemic.

And the things Kurt loves he has started to avoid.

Kurt will admit he didn’t try his hardest to hide his melancholy. But he wasn’t worried about diminishing his daughter’s Christmas spirit. Blaine has enough for both of them. The man is practically an elf. Kurt figured Blaine’s enthusiasm would compensate for his own apathy, and Tracy wouldn’t notice.

But his daughter is too smart for her own good.

Kurt has been going through the motions. That’s one of the reasons he wanted to get to bed early.

He wanted to get Christmas over with.

Kurt thought Christmas would be a thousand times better, happier, more joyful when he had a child of his own. And it was for the first few years. But more and more, it underscores how much he misses his mother.

Kurt didn’t have a bad life after his mother passed. Far from it. Burt Hummel is the greatest father that has ever walked the earth. But Kurt feels cheated every day that his mother isn’t around, curses every missed Christmas, birthday, and graduation.

His wedding and the birth of his daughter.

Tracy has a mom, two dads, grandparents, and a host of adopted aunts and uncles who drop in for nearly every holiday, every special event.

He hates to admit he’s jealous of his own daughter. 

Kurt yawns, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe away the sleep.

But mostly to hide the tears.

He needs to make this up to his daughter. 

And this is where he starts.

"How did you tell her they were going to get fixed?" Kurt asks.

"I told her that leaving them to cool would activate the baking soda, and they'd puff right up."

"And... ?"

"She didn't believe that. She said you'd taught her enough about baking to know that wasn't true."

Kurt grins at the brilliance of his daughter. "Good girl. And after that?"

"Santa magic."

"Did she believe that?"

"Yes."

"Crap." 

Why did Blaine have to say Santa magic? Why couldn't he have said 'hopes and prayers'? Tracy is clever enough to know that those aren't worth a thing. 

But Santa magic must be preserved.

Kurt's elusive night's sleep on Christmas Eve remains out of reach for yet one more year. But maybe it should. This time, at least. "All right. Let's get to work keeping the spirit of Christmas alive."

“Excellent!” Blaine says with a muffled clap. “Shall I give you your space? Let the master work?”

“Nu-uh! I’m not going to bake while you sneak off to the sofa for some shut-eye. Misery loves company." Kurt plants his hands on Blaine's shoulders and moves him into the space between the kitchen island and the stove. He shoves a measuring cup in his hand and points to a bag of flour. "You’re manning the flour station. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

[spaceorphan18]

CHANGED FOR THE BETTER 7 [KLAINE ADVENT 7]

Rating: S for Shenanigans Word Count: 2662 Summary: AU - Kurt’s a struggling actor living in New York, and is currently working on a Made-for-TV movie starring Cooper Anderson.

A/N: Written for Klaine Advent Day 7: Genuine

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

//

Changed for the Better - Part 7/24: Make ‘Um Laugh

Kurt was pulling up the couch cushions, looking for his keys when Elliott came out of his room the next morning.  Elliott didn’t think anything of it at first, until he passed by Kurt’s room on the way to the bathroom.  The door was ajar, and yes, there was a guy sleeping in Kurt’s bed.  Elliott paused, looked over at Kurt, back at his bedroom, then back at Kurt.  Kurt was feeling relieved to find his keys under the couch when he noticed Elliott staring at him.  

“What?” Kurt asked - as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  

Elliott took a few steps closer, and in a hushed voice asked, “did you bring Cooper Anderson’s brother over last night?”

“That’s not Cooper’s brother,” Kurt replied.  He put his shoes on, ignoring Elliott’s incredulous look.  

“Huh?  Well then, who is it?”

“It’s my ex.”

“Oh, Kurt…”

“If he decides to leave before I get back, make sure he leaves the key this time.” 

“Kurt, I’m not going to be your--”

Kurt was out the door before Elliott could finish the sentence.  He didn’t really want to deal with Adam, or think about Adam, or think about whatever it was that happened last night.  If Adam was there when he got home, then fine, if not, he should keep trying to move on.  That was what he had been doing, right? Moving on? How moved on was he now? God…  

When he got to the subway headed for downtown, he took out his phone, and scrolled through the conversation he had that morning with Blaine.  Blaine wanted to meet him for lunch - that seemed like an okay decision.  Something to keep him busy and not thinking about the guy in his bed.  Besides, Blaine had kind eyes, and lacked Cooper Anderson’s sense of ego.  Coffee would be just fine.  

How did his life get to be so confusing?

His phone buzzed, Rachel in a dramatic pose lighting up the screen.  He could ignore it.  Though she might possibly blow up his phone if he did.  He answered. 

“Did you sleep with Adam last night?” she shrieked.  

“Good morning to you, too, Rach.”  

“As your best friend, and closest confident, I have a right to know if you’re making the stupidest mistake in your life right now.”  

God, he had not had enough coffee to deal with her melodramaticism.  “How did you even know Adam came over?”

“Elliott texted me after you blew him off this morning.”

“Why are you and Elliott contacts?”

“For this reason exactly.  Because I’m concerned about you - and he gives me updates.”  

“He spies on me for you?”

“Well, not exactly…”

Poor Elliott - Kurt could just see him being hounded by Rachel until he gave in.  He really needed to have a talk with Rachel about boundaries at some point.  

“Look, Kurt, I’m concerned that you may not be aware of the ramifications of your actions.”

“Which would be?”

There was a pause before she spoke again, which was unlike her.  “I think you’re just going to get hurt again.”  

His stop was close, perfect timing to end the uncomfortable conversation.  “Rachel, I’ve got to go.”

“Kurt! We’re going to have this conversation at some point!”

“Bye, Rachel!”

Kurt arrived at their meeting point, a small, tucked in coffee shop a few minutes early.  The coffee shop was quiet, only a few people spread out at the various tables, and quite unlike the hurried and packed Starbucks he usually frequented.  The coffee shop looked like it was a set for the Christmas movie he had just made, all wood furniture and wood paneling, white and gold Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, coffee being served in ceramic instead of paper, and a full bakecase filled homemade pastries.    

Kurt was wondering if Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal were going to show up when he felt a light touch on the small of his back.  

“Hey, sorry, I’m running a little late,” it was Blaine, looking polished and warm as he had the night before.  

“Oh, I just got here, it’s fine,” Kurt said, holding himself close, and feeling nervous.  Why was he so nervous?  “This is a nice place.”  

“It’s fantastic,” Blaine said - as they headed up to the counter.  “I’ve been coming here since I came to the city.  Maria, can I get my usual?”

Maria, the middle-aged barista, lit up when she saw Blaine.  “Yes, of course!  And here, we baked a few extra blueberry muffins, why don’t you and your company have one on us.”  

“Oh, thanks Maria.”  

To Kurt’s astonishment, they were given the free muffins, and Kurt received a discount on his drink for coming in for the first time - though Kurt suspected it had more to do with Maria just being in love with Blaine.  She chattered all the way through the transaction, with Blaine nodding along with sincere interest.  He even gave a five dollar tip.  What a world Blaine Anderson lived in.  

They took their seats near the back and settled in, Kurt taking a moment savor his first sip of coffee.  Nothing like it to wake him up in the morning.  

“Is it good?” Blaine asked, watching him, intrigued.   

“Amazing.”  He took another long sip.  

Blaine grinned at him, and for a moment, it was almost as if the two of them had done this every day for years.  It was a weird feeling - that they had only just met.  For some reason, Kurt felt like he had known Blaine before - from somewhere else - but couldn’t say why he felt that way.  There was a bit of an awkward silence as Kurt remembered they were nearly strangers.  

“So - you said something about a meeting this morning for your show?” Kurt asked.  That was why Blaine contacted him - or at least that was what he had said.  

“Yeah, boring financial stuff, which is a lot of paperwork,” Blaine said.  “Believe it or not - we’re being funded by June Dolloway.”  

“The June Dolloway?” Kurt could hardly believe it.  He had heard of her back in college - when NYADA named a wing after her because she donated so much money.  “How do you guys even know her?”

“I know, it’s crazy right?”  Blaine bounced in his chair.  “I’ve actually been working with June for a few years now.  She saw me perform at NYU and said she wanted to sponsor me - or my career I guess and has been showcasing me ever since.”

“That’s...amazing,” Kurt said.  He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little bit jealous right now.  Still, he had seen Blaine perform - Blaine’s charisma was off the charts.  He was a natural performer - it made sense.  “So, she’s funding the whole show?”

“The whole thing out of pocket,” Blaine said.  “It’s kind of a big gamble though - if it goes well, then it could be moved to Broadway.  If doesn’t -- well…”  

“It’s kind of an all or nothing thing then?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“So…” Kurt looked into his coffee instead of directly at Blaine.  “You still would like me to be a part of it then?  I mean, you just met me - you’ve never seen me perform.” Hopefully, Blaine has never seen him perform.  There were no tapes of his one show failed show, right?  

“Well, taken on recommendation,” Blaine said.  “You have no idea how much Cooper raved about you.”  

“Really?” That was hard to believe - especially with his attitude the last few weeks, nor did he think Cooper had that great of judgment in the first place.  

“Honestly, he thinks you’re brilliant.”  

Well, it would have been nice for Cooper to tell him that instead of all the pep talks he used to get, but Kurt kept that thought to himself. It was nice hearing that someone thought he had talent - even if it was Cooper Anderson.  

“Oh, well, tell him thanks, I guess.”  

Blaine leaned in a little closer. “To be honest with, I’m totally looking forward to that movie you guys made.  It sounds delightful.”  

Kurt groaned a little.  “Oh, it’s so cheesy.  I hope you’re not disappointed because it rates right up there with anything put out by Hallmark or The Disney Channel.”  

“Who doesn’t love cheesy things?” There was a certain flirtatiousness in Blaine’s eyes.  Kurt wasn’t sure exactly what to do about that.  “I mean, I, for one, love those kind of movies.  So what if they aren’t the most realistic.  Why not indulge in a romantic fantasy every once in awhile?”

Blaine reached across the table and placed a hand on his, gently brushing his thumb along Kurt’s knuckles.  The gesture was brought on by such genuine kindness and  delicate care that it threw Kurt for a second - causing him to become frozen in his chair, unable to look away from their linked hands.  Then a wash of guilt settled over him.  He didn’t want to lead Blaine on - not with his head so confused.  He pulled his hand back, under the pretense of using it for another sip of coffee.  

“Blaine, I should be honest with you about something,” Kurt said, having a hard time looking up.  “Um, my ex-boyfriend turned up last night.”

“Oh?”

“And...I don’t know how I feel about it,” Kurt continued, nervously tapping a finger against the mug.  “You know what, you probably aren’t interested in this.”  

“No, go ahead,” Blaine said.  He leaned back in his chair, and Kurt was unable to read how he felt about it, but Blaine at least seemed open to whatever he was going to say.  

“It’s this whole thing,” Kurt said, looking to the ceiling.  Where to even begin?  “My ex -- Adam -- he was my first boyfriend. He was my first, well, everything.  We met near the end of college, he followed me around for months, and I had never received anything like that kind of attention before.  He even serenaded me once. I mean it was Baby, Got Back - so that probably doesn’t even count.”

Blaine chuckled into his coffee.  “Probably wouldn’t have been my first choice, but go on.”  

“Anyway, it was fine, and then he moved in as one does.  And then -- I don’t know -- it just stopped working.  Be began fighting all the time and we didn’t spend time with each other any more.  And then on day he just moved out.  He didn’t even tell me, I just came home one day to all his stuff being gone.  And then he broke up with me over text.”

“Classy.”  

“And that was months ago, and I was so angry at first.  I was never, ever going to forgive him.  But then when he showed up, after all those months of not talking -- I just felt like things were…”

“Unresolved?”

“Yeah.”

“How long were you together.”

“Five years.”

“That’s--a long time,” Blaine was thinking but what Kurt couldn’t tell.  “I’m not going to pry into what you do in your private life, or ask details or anything.  But maybe, whatever happened, you needed to have some closure.”  

“Yeah, maybe,” Kurt wasn’t sure if he had thought of it that way.  Last night didn’t feel so much like closure - more like reopening.  But Blaine was right.  Kurt never did get his chance to say goodbye.  

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, I’m not the greatest when it comes to romantic advice,” Blaine said - looking unsure for the first time since Kurt had met him.  “I’ve never really been in a long term relationship.”

“Huh?”

“So, my first boyfriend - my first, as you say, everything was in high school,” Blaine smiled again as he retold the memory.  “And I’m pretty sure I was in love with him more than he was in love with me.  I kind of pulled out all the romantic stops, which included singing to him at his place of employment -- which was a Gap in the mall.”

“Oh no,” Kurt placed a hand to his mouth to stop from giggling.  “Really?”

“Really,” Blaine nodded.  “It was so embarrassing.  I guess I got better as time went on, and I had a few boyfriends during college, but no one who really stuck.  No one who really...made me feel like those cheesy Christmas movies.”  

Kurt placed his head on his hand.  “I guess I just find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, well…” Blaine gave a shrug.  

“So, your, um, okay if this,” Kurt gestured vaguely around, “is just hanging out and being friends for now?”

“Sure,” Blaine said - which seemed slightly forced.  “I mean, I was going to ask you if you’d like to accompany tomorrow night to see a revival of Rent and have dinner at that new Italian place nearby, which we could still do as friends.  But if you need space, and you’d like to keep a strictly professional relationship - I do understand.”

“No, I’d love to do that with you,” Kurt said quickly - maybe too quickly.  “I mean as friends.  That sounds like a lovely night.”

Blaine’s face lit up.  “Great.”

The conversation went a bit smoother there after - Kurt relaxing the more he and Blaine chatted.  They talked about a variety of things, musicals, fashion, really bad reality TV.  Blaine even seemed interested in the wedding planning Kurt was doing for his brother.  The day flew by, and four cups of coffee and an actual lunch later, they parted ways - Kurt feeling giddy and happy and not really wanting their time together to end.  

By the time he arrived home, he was so lost in thought about meeting up with Blaine the next night, he had forgotten the mess he had left that morning.  

Adam was there, sitting in the kitchen, lazily going through his phone.  Elliott was also there, cooking something, giving Kurt an apologetic look as he walked in the door.  

“I wondered when you’d come back,” Adam said with a bite.  “Or was this your twisted way of getting me back.”

“I’m wasn’t trying to get you back,” Kurt said, the joy from his day quickly fading.  “Believe it or not, I’m not you - I wouldn’t purposely hurt someone instead of just talking to them.”

Adam got up and came in close, much like he did the previous night.  Elliott made a little gasp, but was focusing hard on his frying pan.  

“I don’t want to fight,” Adam said.  “I want to figure out how we can make this right.”  

“I don’t know if we can,” Kurt said.  He thought about Blaine - about what he said about needing closure.  He needed to say goodbye.  But why was that proving so hard?  

“What about last night?” Adam said, curling his lip in that goofy pout he gave when he knew he was in trouble.  Kurt hated that it worked so easily on him. “That was something.”  

“It was…” Bad judgment? A stupid thing? Goodbye? He pushed away from Adam, and thankfully, Elliott’s presence stopped Adam from trying anything.  “I’m going to need some space...and some time.”

“You didn’t need space or time last night.”

Kurt bit his lip.  Was every bad choice always going to follow him around?  “I don’t know if getting back together is what I want,” he said - as much as it seemed to hurt Adam.  “Look, I’m going to be knee deep in my brother’s wedding the next couple of weeks, and I’ll be back in Ohio for a while.  It’ll be some time for me -- alone, and when I come back.  We can talk this through, okay?”  

“Okay,” Adam came to him and kissed him - a familiar and gentle kiss.  Kurt hated the ease.  “So, where were you today?”

“Nowhere,” Kurt said.  He didn’t want Adam to know about Blaine.  Blaine, whatever it was with Blaine, was special - and he didn’t want Adam to taint that.  Elliott gave him a sharp glance, because Elliott knew better.  But thankfully, the subject was changed.  

[wowbright]

Fic: Chemicals Kicking In

Klaine Advent 2021: rise

Words: ~2950 words

Rating: Explicit (masturbation)

Summary: Why the heck is Blaine so horny on P-day?

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2021! This vignette takes place after Something New and also references Seek After These Things and Companions.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: A special present for Christmas Eve! I’m a day behind, so still planning to post another one tomorrow. P-day is when missionaries get some time off each week. If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

--------

Kurt wore his new clothes right out of the store. His peacoat hid most of the shirt from view, but his pants were visible from ankle to upper thigh. The fine stripes made his legs look even longer than they already did, like they went on for miles and miles, and Blaine caught a couple passers by giving his companion admiring looks. Blaine felt special walking next to someone so effortlessly dashing.

“I suppose we can't put grocery shopping off any longer.” Kurt adjusted the strap of his saddlebag, which had grown bulkier now that it was carrying Kurt’s outfit from earlier in the day. “If we keep shopping for other things, won’t have enough room left in our bags for food.”

P-day usually required two trips to the grocery store because of the limited storage space on their bikes. Some of Blaine’s previous missionary apartments had come with a bike trailer, but not this one. Fortunately, the store wasn't that far from their apartment, so the additional trip only ate into their day by twenty or thirty minutes, and it never felt like wasted time to Blaine because he was with Kurt.

Today though, Blaine had set a challenge to himself to fit as much on his bicycle as humanly possible. That morning, he’d packed string and scissors and a bungee cord into his satchel, eliciting the comment, “All you need to add is a trash bag and a pair of rubber gloves, and I'm turning you in as a serial killer,” from his companion.

“I’m MacGyver, not Dexter,” Blaine had quipped back.

Now, outside the grocery store with their purchases, Kurt was eyeing Blaine’s bike warily. “It's going to fall over,” he said, pointing at the tower of toilet paper and milk cartons Blaine had carefully arranged on his rear rack. “The milk has to go on the bottom.”

Kurt was right, of course. The tower was much too top heavy. Blaine snipped the knots in his string and started over.

“Is this actually saving us any time?” Kurt said. “If you have to spend ten minutes loading your bike?”

“It's the principle of the thing,” Blaine said, though what principle he was trying to prove, he had no idea.

“I think you're just looking for cheap thrills. Not that I can blame you. Nothing to break up the monotony of a mission like an engineering challenge.”

“This mission is not monotonous!”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at Blaine.

“Well, OK, some things about it are monotonous. But it's not boring. How could it be? You make everything interesting.”

Kurt continued his disbelieving gaze.

“I'm not sucking up to you. I've told you before, you're the most interesting guy in the Germany Central-South Mission, and I stand by that.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. But he also broke into a grin. So win-win.

Then, apropos of nothing, Kurt said, “I told Chandler not to join the church.”

The string slipped out of Blaine’s hand. The toilet paper teetered precariously. Kurt jumped over and steadied it with his hands.

“You what?” Blaine caught the loose end of the string and knotted it to avoid another mishap.

“Well, I didn't say, ‘Don’t join,’ exactly. But I told him I didn't think he'd be happy in it.”

“Because he’s gay?”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine stood. Kurt might not trust his mechanics, but the arrangement seemed steady enough. He looked at Kurt, tried to catch his eye but failed. “Are you happy, Kurt?”

“Of course. True happiness only comes from living the gospel.” Kurt refused to take his eyes off a very fixed spot on the side of the building.

“But not for Chandler …”

“No, not for Chandler. You know how it is.” Kurt twisted his CTR ring around his finger. “Each of us will be judged for our actions only to the extent that we had the knowledge to discern what was right. I was raised with the gospel. I can't pretend I don't know it's true. But Chandler doesn't have that knowledge yet. What he doesn't know can't hurt him.”

Blaine wanted to poke at this more. He wanted to ask Kurt if he ever wished that he had been born into another church, or no church at all. But Kurt still wouldn't look directly at him. Blaine let it go.

“So what did Chandler say? Does he want to continue with the discussions?”

Kurt finally looked at him. “We didn't get that far. He wanted to know why I thought the church was right for me but not for him, so I gave him my testimony, and then Chiko came over, so we changed the subject.”

Kurt gave Chandler his testimony. Well, that explained what the handkerchief had been about. “I think you did the right thing. Not everybody is ready for the church in this life. It’s like with Samir and Nuriya. With some people, our job is to lead them the baptism. With other people, our job is simply to plant a seed that can be watered in the next life. God will take care of all of it in the end.”

Kurt face relaxed into a smile. “Have I told you lately how glad I am that you're my missionary companion and I didn't end up with somebody like Elder Clarington?”

“Same here,” said Blaine, the words feeling entirely inadequate for the sentiment. “Though I would hope most missionary companions would be better than Elder Clarington.”

“Ah. So if I’m going to stroke your ego, I need to make a bolder comparison?”

Blaine nodded at solemnly. “I’d be satisfied with either Mother Theresa or Joseph Smith.”

Kurt burst into laughter. Oh, how Blaine loved when that happened. His eyes squinched into the tiniest slits and his mouth fell open, revealing rows of teeth that really were like pearls, all small and rounded on the edges. “I've never worked with Joseph Smith or Mother Teresa, so I can't compare the experiences. But I'm pretty confident in saying that working with you has been the highlight of my mission, as far as companionships go.”

“In other words, I’m your favorite companion?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, exasperated but still smiling, “we aren't supposed to have favorites.”

“Right. Well, you don't have to admit it, then. You can just tell me that I'm better than all your other companions combined.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. It was delightful. “You’re done loading the bike, MacGyver? We should head home.”

Riding home was awkward, and not just because of the tower of stuff on Blaine’s rear rack. There was also an issue going on between his legs. It wasn't the first time that the day; it had been something of an ongoing issue since breakfast that morning, as he and Kurt sat next to each other at the kitchen table, planning their P-day. It had felt so grown-up, them both in their real-life clothes instead of missionary attire. Like they were college roommates or something, and not kids whose every move was dictated by the mission rules. Blaine was wearing his favorite pink polo shirt and Kurt had on burgundy jeans and a button-down covered with black-and-white line drawings of beetles—which sounded weird, but was beautiful and haunting. It was an amazing shirt.

So there Blaine had sat, feeling all grown up and mature, and as if his body wanted to remind him that he wasn't, it sent his blood rushing down, down, down to that little guy between his legs.

It was so … disheartening. Before Blaine had left on his mission, he had somehow thought that pointless boners were only a problem high schoolers had to deal with. That they were a side effect of recent puberty and fluctuating hormones. Adults weren't supposed to have erections that came out of nowhere, and particularly not missionaries. Erections were only supposed to happen when you were thinking sexy, lustful things, and go away when you weren't. Blaine was an adult now, a faithful, hard-working missionary, and he never thought sexy, lustful things—but his member still seemed to have a mind of its own. It would rise and fall of its own will, with no regard to context.

Blaine wondered if he should take care of it before they left the apartment. But he'd already showered, and it wasn't like he could announce to his companion, “Hey, I've gotta beat one out before we leave.” Besides, it was only temporary. The tumescence would subside once Blaine was up and about, getting the blood flowing to the rest of his body.

But it had come back when they were in the drugstore trying on sunglasses, and again outside the gelateria where they stopped for an emergency morning snack of ice cream cones that were so delicious they both experienced their eyes rolling back in their heads, and again in the used clothing store—the reason Blaine had not tried on any pants while they were there, even though he’s seen a pair of chinos that were perfect for spring.

And now on his bike of all places, riding behind Kurt in his form-fitting peacoat and stripey stretch jeans.

At least Blaine’s sweater was long enough to cover it.

When they got to the apartment, Blaine was tempted—so tempted—to beg off putting the groceries away with the excuse that he felt too gross from the bike ride and desperately needed a shower. But his ethics got the better of him. It wouldn't be fair to make Kurt put it all away on his own, and besides, maybe a little part of Blaine wanted to show off how well he’d learned where everything went during his weeks at the apartment.

Besides, Kurt beat him to the bathroom, rushing to it as soon as he’d set down his bags. From the sound of it, though, it was no ordinary bathroom emergency. Blaine heard a cacophony of shoves and slams that made it sound like Elder Hummel was doing some remodeling in there. He emerged a minute later with … a CD player?

“Where did that come from?” Blaine asked.

“For me to know and you to not know,” Kurt said slyly. He plugged it in next to the love seat and gave Blaine a look that could only be described as alluring. “Well, you gonna get your CD out?”

Blaine’s jaw dropped. “You mean it?”

Kurt shrugged. “It's P-day, and they're Mormons, and this past week has been exhausting. So why not?”

Blaine didn't wait for more elaboration. He bolted to the bedroom and dug through his bottom drawer for the CD of Habits by Neon Trees that Cooper had sent him before Easter.

“‘Animal,’” Blaine panted as he ran back into the kitchen. “We’re playing ‘Animal’ first. And possibly over and over again.”

“Really?” Kurt was standing on a stepladder, putting things away on the top shelves. He had taken his peacoat off and his legs somehow looked even longer than they had before. Blaine supposed it was the angle. it was a flattering one. Kurt turned to look at Blaine over his shoulder. “Isn't that one a little … sexy? Maybe not so temple recommend?”

“No, it’s about …” Blaine trailed off. He knew all the words. He ran the lyrics through his head. “I thought it was about falling in love.”

“Hmmmm,” said Kurt. “If you say so. I suppose the two things don't have to be mutually exclusive.”

Blaine started the CD. The sound wasn't great; the player was an alarm clock with just one speaker, and it got tinny when you cranked up the volume and the base was barely there. But Blaine was not going to look at gift horse in the mouth. He was going to bounce around the apartment and sing at the top of his lungs.

While putting groceries away, of course.

And oh! Kurt knew the lyrics too. He only mouthed them at first, but when it got to You’re killing me no-ow! he let them out with the full force of his lungs.

“Oh my gosh, you can sing pop, too? Is there anything you can't do?”

“Not much,” Kurt yelled over the music. He leaped off the ladder like it was a stage piece and bounced across the floor toward Blaine like he had industrial-strength springs built into his feet.

They played through it three times before all the groceries were put away. Perhaps it was because they played through it three times that it took that long to put the groceries away. Kurt’s face was pink from dancing and he’d undone a couple more buttons at the top of his new shirt so that his garment neckline peeked through.

Blaine struggled to keep his eyes from wandering toward it. This was kind of momentous. Other companions of Blaine’s had slept, eaten, and walked around the apartment in nothing but their garments. But not Kurt. Kurt was incessantly modest. He closed the door when he changed. He kept his garments covered night and day even in the privacy of their home. The only glimpses Blaine had ever gotten of them was when Kurt was asleep and his pajama shirt slid up to reveal the hem of his garment top tucked into the bottoms, or when he noticed the outline of neckline and sleeve under Kurt’s regulation white button-downs.

Blaine was not going to be stupid and make a big deal out of the fact that Kurt had unbuttoned his top four buttons. But it was a big deal. Kurt was comfortable around him.

Kurt felt free around him.

And … oh, fudge. Maybe Kurt was right. Maybe ‘Animal’ was about sex.

Because Blaine was getting hard again.

“I'm kind of stinky from the bike ride,” Blaine blurted out.

“You are?”

“Well, if I'm not now, I will be soon. I'm gonna go wash up.” Blaine spun toward the bathroom before his erection could get any more obvious. Not that Kurt would notice. Just because Kurt was gay didn't mean he was into Blaine, and anyway, Kurt was too virtuous to even think of looking at that area of a guy’s trousers, ever. Blaine had probably looked at more guys’ crotches than Kurt had.

“OK,” Kurt called after him. “But don't take too long. We still need to do the laundry.”

Kurt didn't have to worry. This wouldn't take long at all. Blaine couldn't move fast enough to take his clothes off. His penis was so swollen it was almost painful to touch. So purple it looked bruised.

Blaine turned the fan on and then the shower. He hated to waste water, but he had to ramp it up to full force just to make sure his erratic breathing couldn't be heard over it. Blaine knew he was being paranoid—Kurt couldn't hear him from the kitchen without trying, and of course he wasn't trying—but on the other hand he might walk down the hall at an inopportune moment and …

Oh, man. Blaine was so, so hard. Which was good. It meant this would be over soon, that he wouldn't be wasting water, that he wouldn't arouse Kurt’s suspicions.

Here we are again

I feel the chemicals kickin' in

And did he ever. But he tried to stay virtuous. Despite the raunchy lyrics running through his head (and they were at least a little raunchy, weren’t they?), he didn't think about sex or making out or any body parts that were not his own. He tried to think of nothing but the feel of his hand on his shaft, the other cupped around his testicles, his fingertips touching the sensitive skin just behind them. He let random images from the day and week flash through his mind: Kurt clucking his tongue at the price of white asparagus. Kurt fluently ordering bread at the bakers, the strange southern German “r”s and “ch”s gliding off his tongue like fresh April raindrops, plump and fat, kissing Blaine’s skin and making him shiver. That moment yesterday when they were walking to the bus stop, and they passed a little cottage garden and Kurt sucked in his breath and said, “The first rose of spring!” and his frown turned into a smile.

And still, Blaine’s arousal became more intense. Unimaginably intense. Blaine thought he’d read men’s sex drives were supposed to dissipate after the age of seventeen, that their organs was supposed to become less sensitive, that orgasms took longer to achieve. But Blaine couldn't have been in the shower even a minute and he was already so close to his climax. He wished there was something to hold onto, something to bite on and muffle the cry that was building within his chest.

Blaine bunched up his washcloth and shoved it in his mouth. He grabbed the arm of the shower head and squeezed it as hard as he could. He thrust his penis in and out of his fist, over and over again, desperate for the release that was just out of his grasp.

Something in Blaine’s head exploded at the same time as his groin did. He saw lights flash beneath his closed eyelids; he felt his release wash over his hand, thicker and warmer than the water it mingled with. He opened his eyes and slid to the shower floor, laughter bubbling up in his chest when he realized the washcloth was still in his mouth.

Blaine had not memorized every orgasm he'd had in his life, but even so, he was pretty confident that this one had surpassed them all.

God, he thought, I have no idea why you decided to give that to me on my mission and not wait until I was married, but … thank you?

So much for not having a sex drive on your mission.

[blaindersonkummel]

Klaine Fic: Sucker Punch

Written for Day 17 of Klaine Advent 2017 Prompt: “Raw”

Summary: Kurt comes home to find Blaine in a distressed state. Yet another mini dose of blangst (because apparently that’s now just who I am as a person).

Word Count: 750 - Read on AO3.

Kurt was walking through the door of his and Blaine’s apartment when he heard it.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

Taking one of his headphones out and shaking his keys free from the lock, he heard it even louder.

THUMP.

THUMP.

“UGHHHH!”

Kurt shut the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen where he set down the bag of groceries he was holding.

“Blaine?” he called out.

There was no response, apart from the continued thumping.

“Honey?!” he called a little louder.

Still nothing but the steady rhythm of what Kurt was now certain sounded like something making impact with another thing. Following the noise, Kurt made his way towards their spare bedroom.

As well as being a spare bedroom, the room also happened to double as a gym (with a treadmill shoved up against the wall in the corner) and a home office – complete with a desk in which they both each claimed a side of drawers.

What Kurt was faced with when he reached the door frame wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. In fact, he even smirked a little to see his sweaty husband in a tank top and teeny green booty shorts, going to town on the punching bag which hung from the ceiling.

It wasn’t until Kurt went to move further into the room that he recognised there might be cause for concern.

“Sweetheart?” he tried to ask gently, moving around to see Blaine’s face.

Blaine was pouring with sweat now as he continuously swung his arms at the punching bag, one after the other in a steady rhythm which he matched with his grunts and sobs. As Kurt got closer, he saw something dripping down the side of the light blue bag.

“Blaine!” Kurt cried, this time throwing caution to the wind and moving right towards his husband to stop his punches. It wasn’t until Kurt grabbed a hold of Blaine’s wrist that Blaine stopped and looked at him.

His eyes were wide, tearful, and unseeing for a split second. Sweat was curling his hair around his face, and his cheeks were pink from exhaustion. When Kurt’s grip finally made his hands loosen up, Kurt gasped in shock. On each of Blaine’s knuckles, a trickle of blood poured down his arm.

“Blaine, what are you doing? Your hands are completely raw!” he almost yelled, frantically glancing between his husband’s dead-looking eyes.

As if a dam had broken, suddenly Blaine’s face was crumbling and he was crying. The sobbing overtook him so quickly, he stumbled forward into Kurt’s arms. Luckily, Kurt caught his husband and held him up as he cried into his neck.

Instead of pressuring Blaine to spit out what was wrong, Kurt knew to simply stroke along Blaine’s back, let him calm down, and regain some composure to speak in his own time.

“I’m s-sorry,” Blaine’s breathing hitched as he kept his face firmly buried in Kurt’s neck. “I had a- an absolutely horrible mor-morning, and I just had to come home.”

“Sweetie,” Kurt pressed on, fingers now holding on to the back of Blaine’s head through his sweaty curls, “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. There’s no need to be sorry.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Blaine spoke again.

“My dad called me.”

Kurt’s hands automatically stopped their stroking and he suddenly seemed to understand exactly why he’d walked in on Blaine in such a state. Why Blaine had been near the point of exhaustion from punching out his frustrations on a boxing bag.

“I’m… I’m glad you told me, honey. And I’m sorry that we seem to have had a little setback today. But it’s okay. It’s all okay.”

Kurt regained his composure and pulled his husband into his arms even tighter now, his hand continuing to stroke until he pulled away to look Blaine in the eyes.

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to run you a bath and make us some dinner. When you get out, you’re going to let me treat those knuckles of yours before you do any more damage. And then, we’ll phone Kelly and see if we can get you an extra session with her tomorrow. Sound good?”

Blaine’s eyes filled with tears again and he bit his bottom lip as he nodded vigorously, leaning in for one last hug as he said so quietly, “Thank you.”

Kurt couldn’t help but grip tighter once more, ensuring he injected some extra love and affection back into his husband’s body. After all, Blaine’s heart had always been a little raw.

[flowerfan2]

Winter Song - Ch. 22: Width

Klaine, M, A03 Written for Klaine Advent 2017

A story that picks up where “A Lost Boy Comes Out” left off: after Blaine comes out (as a vampire), things aren’t as easy as he and Kurt had hoped they would be, especially when someone from Blaine’s past decides to get revenge. 

Chapter 22

It doesn’t take long after that for SHIELD to find Kurt.  Between the description Kurt gave them and the directional sense Wes got from speaking with him, it is only a few minutes before Daisy has identified a handful of likely locations.

There’s a flurry of activity in the room as agents file in and out, getting instruction from Daisy and last minute advice from Sebastian.  Blaine tries to tune it out, not really wanting to know how many armed men and powerful vamps are going to be storming into the place where Kurt is being held.  There’s too much potential for something to go wrong.  Hunter is still an unknown in many ways, and if things go sideways, it could be Kurt’s life on the line.

Less than an hour later, Wes takes Blaine and Sebastian’s hands again.  Blaine feels Wes’ power flow into him, and he channels it as they reach out to Kurt.

“Hi…”  Kurt’s voice in Blaine’s head sounds weaker this time. “You’re back.”

“We are,” Wes says.

Please, Kurt, hang on, Blaine thinks.  

“I’m doing my best,” Kurt replies, and Blaine starts, realizing that his thoughts truly aren’t his own at the moment.

 “Kurt?  What’s your condition?  Have you been injured?”  Wes asks, ridiculously calm, but Blaine can tell he’s concerned, too.

 “I’m okay… just really cold. There’s no heat, and they took my coat.”

 “It shouldn’t be long now,” Wes says.  “We think we’re right outside the building you’re in.”

 “Kurt – we’re almost there,” Blaine says, forcing himself to sound more confident than he actually feels. “You’re gonna be okay.”

 “I’m going to need you to do something for me,” Wes says.  “Are you still unrestrained?”

 “Yeah.”

 “When I tell you it’s time, I want you to get down on the floor and curl up against the wall?  Try not to breathe.  Can you do that?”

 “What’s going to happen?”

 “SHIELD’s going to pipe in some gas, and then come to get you,” Sebastian says.  “The gas will throw them off, maybe even knock them out, depending on how much of it they breathe.  It won’t hurt you if you breathe it, though, so don’t worry.  Just get yourself out of the way first.”

 “But Hunter doesn’t breathe.”

 “The gas is for the goons. Agent May is going to take care of Hunter,” Sebastian says, a proud note in his voice.  “Don’t worry about him.”

 Melinda May is one of SHIELD’s fiercest warriors, and a vampire to boot.  Blaine is pretty sure Sebastian has a crush on her.  She hasn’t been involved with Blaine and Kurt’s case up until now, but apparently it’s time to call in the big guns.

 “Kurt, it’s almost time,” Wes interrupts, as Daisy gives him a signal.  “Ready?”

 “Yes.”

 They all wait, watching Daisy, who is concentrating on her comms.  She finally nods.

 “Kurt?  Now.”

 *****

The headache from the bond breaking isn’t as bad this time, but it’s still a long moment before Blaine can see without spots in front of his eyes.

 When his vision clears, he sees Daisy focused on her laptop. Sebastian is sitting next to her, looking a little green.  

 “What’s happening? Did they find Kurt?”

 “Not yet, but we know it’s the right place,” Sebastian says.  “An old mafia haunt, apparently.  SHIELD’s been there before.  The strike team is in, and they’re taking down hostiles.”

 “What about Kurt?”

 Sebastian doesn’t reply, instead muttering into the comm unit.

 “Hang in there and let them work, Blaine,” Wes says, giving him a stern look.  But Blaine’s not much in the mood to be chastised.  Kurt is in danger, and it’s all his fault.  Wes can read him the riot act once his husband is safe.

 It feels like years go by. Blaine thinks he would pray, if he still believed in that kind of thing.  He realizes he’s praying anyway.

 “They’ve got him,” Sebastian finally says, glancing up at Blaine.  “They’ve got him now.”

 “Can I…?”

 Sebastian shakes his head. “He’ll be back here soon, Blaine. Come on, I’ll take you to medical.” Sebastian stands and holds out his hand to Blaine, although he’s still a little wobbly himself.

 Wes starts to speak, but Sebastian turns to him and cuts him off.  “Rain check, Wes?”

 The look on Wes’ face softens.  “Of course. Call my assistant, we’ll set up lunch in the new year.”

 In the elevator, Blaine sags against the wall.  “Thanks, Seb.”

 “Sure.  I mean, Wes is great and all, but I don’t think either of us need a lecture right now.  I could practically see him getting out his gavel.”

 “Not just for that.” Blaine puts a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, and catches his gaze.  “I’m very lucky to have a friend like you.  Kurt and I both are.”

 Sebastian looks away, but he’s pleased by the sentiment, Blaine can tell.  “Same here.”  They’ve been through a lot together over the years, Blaine and Sebastian, but nothing quite like today.  Still, Blaine means what he said.  He’s not sure how this would have gone without Sebastian, and his quick thinking.  Blaine’s darn sure that SHIELD didn’t come up with the idea to get Wes to help out.

 The elevator beeps, and they find their way to SHIELD’s medical center.  Blaine waits impatiently in a small reception area while Sebastian tries to find out what’s going on.  He’s momentarily distracted by the music playing in the background – Bowie’s Width of a Circle. Kind of an odd choice, but Blaine finds that he appreciates it more than the expected easy listening tunes.  At least someone exercised some taste in making the playlist.

 Sebastian returns, sitting down next to Blaine.  “They don’t know much, except that he should be here soon.”

 A few minutes later, a woman in a white coat comes out from the treatment area.  “Mr. Hummel is in stable condition.  You’ll be able to see him in a few minutes.”  

 “That’s all she’s going to say?  And how did he get by us?”  Blaine asks, looking at the door where he and Sebastian came in.

 Sebastian shrugs. “Emergency entrance?  Secret corridor?  Hell if I know.  I’ve only worked at this place for a few years.”

 “Just as long as it isn’t still infiltrated by HYDRA,” Blaine mutters.  

 “Hunter isn’t HYDRA. He’s not nearly clever enough.”

 “Fair.”  And it’s a good thing, too.  Blaine doesn’t want to imagine what it would have been like if Kurt had been kidnapped by someone competent.

 Not long afterwards, a nurse comes out and brings Blaine into Kurt’s room.  “He inhaled a lot of the gas,” she explains.  “But he’s been waking up for a few minutes at a time, then dozing back off.  It’s perfectly normal.  He should be more alert in an hour or two.  You’re welcome to stay with him.”

 About time, Blaine thinks, pulling the chair by Kurt’s bed as close as he can get and settling in.

 Kurt’s lying motionless, a small lump on the side of his head the only evidence that anything out of the ordinary has happened.  That and the fact that he’s in a hospital bed, wearing a gown with little red and blue Captain America shields on it, and a sheet pulled up to his chest.  There’s an iv in his left arm, so Blaine takes his other hand and holds it close.  He runs his fingers over Kurt’s knuckles, then brings his hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the palm.

 “Blaine?”  Kurt mumbles, his eyelids fluttering as he tries to open his eyes.  “Blaine?”

 “Shh, it’s okay.  I’m here.”

 “’m sleepy.”

 “I know.  You can keep sleeping, it’s okay.  You’re back at SHIELD headquarters.  You’re safe.”

 “Sing to me.  My song.”

 Blaine snorts despite himself.  “The one I was singing just before you got kidnapped?”

 “Mmm, yeah.  I like it.”

 Blaine clears his throat and swallows hard.  No one ever said that Kurt was easy to please, but he’s up for the challenge. He tries to bring back the feeling he had just the night before, when as far as he knew, Kurt was safely back in Lima, and Blaine’s only concern was pouring his feelings into his music.

 “This is my winter song to you.  The storm is coming soon, it rolls in from the sea.  My voice a beacon in the night, my words will be your light, to carry you to me.”

 Kurt slides back into sleep, but Blaine keeps singing.  If it makes Kurt feel safe, he’ll never stop.

[forabeatofadrum]

I’d cry a river just for you MASTERPOST

Masterpost for my Klaine Advent 2021 story

Summary: Seven years ago, Kurt and Blaine had a huge fight that ended a ten year long friendship. Now they unexpectedly run into each other in another part of the world. Can they let go of the past?

Rating: T

Words: ~30K

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr tag

Chapters on Tumblr:

Silence - Falsettos

Ceiling - Wicked

Obligation - Legally Blonde

Ancestor - RENT

Orientation - Bandstand

Dairy - 25th Annual Puntam County Spelling Bee

Rhythm - Heathers

Cup - Spring Awakening

Fan - In the Heights

Transparant - Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Demonstrate - Everybody’s Talking About Jamie

Invisible - Hairspray

Arrow - 35MM: A Musical Exhibition

Offend - Company

Appendix - Fun Home

Chance - Once On This Island

Global - Six

Mine - Next to Normal

Core - Hamilton

Qualification - tick, tick... BOOM!

Work - Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812

Ordinary - The Last Five Years

Company - The Band’s Visit

Rise - Hadestown

Extra’s:

The playlist!

Notes on the playlist

Blaine’s apartment

Bella’s room

The lekker met de meiden klainen groupchat member trivia

111 plekken in Rotterdam die je gezien moet hebben highlights

The Dutch glossary

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine Advent 2021—Complete List

❄️ All my Klaine Advent 2021 fics can be found on AO3 here or on tumblr in the list below. Colors correspond to fics that are in the same AU or are a continuation ❄️

Day 1: Silence

Day 2: Ceiling

Day 3: Obligation

Day 4: Ancestor

Day 5: Orientation

Day 6: Dairy

Day 7: Rhythm

Day 8: Cup

Day 9: Fan

Day 10: Transparent

Day 11: Demonstrate

Day 12: Invisible

Day 13: Arrow

Day 14: Offend

Day 15: Appendix

Day 16: Chance

Day 17: Global

Day 18: Mine

Day 19: Core

Day 20: Qualification

Day 21: Work

Day 22: Ordinary

Day 23: Company

Day 24: Rise