#my klaine valentines 2021

[wowbright]

Can’t You See

Summary: Blaine is trying not to be homophobic. But he’s really uncomfortable with how much this new guy is hitting on Elder Hummel. (Clueless, not-out-to-himself-yet Blaine.)

Words: ~3600

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. The title is taken from the Day Two prompt song, I Only Want to Be With You by Dusty Springfield/Bay City Rollers.

Notes: This story takes place in the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany, and they’re teaching a guy they met at a sheet music shop about their church. The guy’s name is Chandler Kiehl (yes, that one, but German). See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info.

Rating: Teen and up

They sat at the kitchen table, going over their planning for the upcoming week. Elder Hummel had the binder open to the section where they kept notes about the people they were teaching about the church. The planning had gone smoothly so far—but didn’t it always? Blaine usually agreed with anything Elder Hummel wanted to do. His senior companion was a good missionary, and Blaine respected his instincts. Plus, he’d known most of these investigators longer than Blaine had, so he had a better sense of what they needed to hear or the kind of help they needed to push them gently in the right direction.

“Okay. So we'll ask Doro and Stefan to commit to coming to the Easter service,” Elder Hummel said. “And we’ll explain to them what to expect. I think Doro will like the simplicity of it, but with Stefan having trained to be a Catholic priest, he might be a little culture-shocked if we don’t explain all the whys and hows to him first. Is there anything else you think we should think about with them?”

“No. I think that’s good. They’ve been investigating for months and still haven't come to a service. They won't really understand it until they experience a sacrament meeting.” Blaine wrote Invite to Easter service and explain how different from Catholic on a blank line toward the bottom of Stefan and Doro’s most recent page. The couple had several pages of notes already. Blaine would need to add another if they didn't get baptized soon.

“Okay. Who’s next?” Elder Hummel leaned in and peered over Blaine’s shoulder. Usually it would annoy Blaine for somebody to read over his shoulder, but with Elder Hummel it felt reassuring instead of irritating. Elder Hummel was generally so careful about preserving his personal space, so when he forgot about it and crossed into Blaine's, it made Blaine feel like he was someone special, someone Elder Hummel had decided to trust.

Blaine flipped the page to the next investigator. Oh. He'd really wanted to avoid this one, so much so that he’d tricked himself into forgetting about it until this very moment. “Chandler Kiehl,” he said, trying to tamp down the bile that was rising in his throat.

“Oh, fun!” said Elder Hummel. “He's such a sweetheart.”

That's because he's into you, Blaine thought, but didn't say. Instead, he said, “He’s friendly,” because it was true, even if Chandler clearly had ulterior motives.

“Isn't he, though? Much warmer than most of the Germans I've met. I suppose he's excited to know some Americans. And we give him something to do since he's out of school right now.”

“Yeah. But he doesn't seem that interested in the church,” Blaine said.

Elder Hummel pursed his lips in thought. “I don't know. He asked a lot of questions in our last lesson.”

“Because he was being friendly.”

“It wasn't just that. He had some really astute questions about Joseph Smith and what it meant to have a restoration, about the different prophets that have led the church…"  

Oh, yeah, Blaine remembered. Chandler had asked about eight million questions, all directed at Elder Hummel, always with his eyes wide and focused on Elder Hummel’s face, with lots of interested nodding and follow-up about Elder Hummel’s personal beliefs and Also, by the way, where were you from again, Elder Hummel—Ohio? How interesting. That’s not too far from Upstate New York where Joseph Smith had his visions, was it? Oh, the church built its first temple in Ohio? No wonder you feel so connected to this story. This Joseph Smith sounds fascinating. It's a little jarring for me to think about prophets living in the modern day, but if they lived in the past, why shouldn't they live now? I suppose in English you could say, ‘One always profits from listening to a prophet.’ Do you have a favorite prophet, Elder Hummel? A favorite teaching? A favorite hymn? Oh, I’m not familiar with it. Maybe you could teach me. Your voice stimulates happiness in me! (Except the last sentence was even worse because the word for voice was “Stimme” and the word Chandler used for “stimulate” was “stimuliert,” so it was another stupid pun, just like “prophet” and “profit.” Like, a really, really stupid pun because no one uses “stimuliert” that way. But Elder Hummel, who should have rolled his eyes at how forced it was, actually giggled as he tried to brush away the compliment with something about Chandler needing to come to church if he wanted to hear hymns, and then Chandler not letting it drop by saying that Elder Hummel sang in the sheet music store, and then Elder Hummel eyeing Blaine as if to ask Whaddya think? Should we sing something? And Blaine had to give Elder Hummel a death glare because apparently he was the only person in the room not completely overcome by their hormones.)

“… so if he shows up to church this week and likes it, I was thinking we could invite him to participate in the Easter choir.”

Blaine jolted back to the present. Had Elder Hummel really just said what Blaine thought he did? Certainly he wouldn’t think of asking a non-member to sing in the choir. That was like letting a five-year-old pass the sacrament. Blaine must have misunderstood. “I’m sorry. I’m not following.”

Elder Hummel gave Blaine a sympathetic look. “Do you need a break? You seem a little distracted. Maybe you're tired?”

“No. I mean, yes, my mind wandered off for a second there. But I’m not tired.”

“I’m just boring you that much, huh?” Elder Hummel wiggled his eyebrows in the teasing way that always made Blaine’s insides get the same kind of whirly-squirrely they’d gotten when his show choir won the state trophy his senior year.

“No. It’s just …” Blaine considered. Did he have to say this? President Steele said it was important to be honest with your companion, but at the same time one must also be kind. On the one hand, if an investigator didn’t seem sincere, Blaine should speak up so they didn't waste their time. On the other hand, Blaine wasn’t sure he could speak without letting his distaste for Chandler leak out.

Chandler really bothered Blaine. And the fact that Blaine was bothered by it made him feel even worse. Because Blaine wasn’t uncomfortable because of Chandler’s his insincerity. Blaine had taught plenty of investigators who only wanted to practice their English or have an interesting conversation about faith or just mess with some naïve religionists from the United States, and he’d loved them all. He enjoyed getting to know people, even when it didn't lead anywhere.

Blaine was uncomfortable because the only reason Chandler asked for lessons was so he could to hit on Elder Hummel the entire time.

And maybe that meant Blaine was homophobic. Blaine thought he was okay with Elder Hummel being gay, but Chandler trying to flirt sent Blaine into a minor fury. And looking back, this wasn't the first time he’d had issues with gay people being gay. In high school, he’d certainly always felt weird about Sebastian checking him out.

“Elder Anderson, Earth to Elder Anderson, come in Elder Anderson.”

“I'm here.”

“You're awfully quiet,” Elder Hummel said. “Which either means you are tired, or there's something bothering you and you need to say it.”

Blaine sighed. Usually he loved how well Elder Hummel understood him. But right now, it was inconvenient. “I only want to say things that are true, necessary, and kind.”

“I take it you have something to say about Chandler that you don't think meets all three of those criteria?”  

“I think …” How could Blaine put this? “I think he's interested in making friends. I don't think he's interested in the Gospel. His questions about the church were intellectual curiosity at best.”

“That's where it starts for a lot of investigators, though. There are things they've never been able to figure out, and they're looking for answers. Some people put it in more spiritual language, and some people put it other ways.”  

“Yes, but … But most of his questions weren't about the church, not really.”

“What? You mean they were about faith generally.”

“No. I mean they were about you.”

Elder Hummel frowned. “I don’t remember it that way.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention, because he asked you about where you were from and your favorite prophets and your favorite scriptures and your favorite hymns—”

“Except for asking me where I’m from—which most investigators ask, by the way—those are all Gospel questions.”

“Oh, really?” Blaine said, and maybe it came out a little sarcastic, but Elder Hummel was one of the sharpest people Blaine had ever met. He seriously could not be that opaque. “Then why didn’t he ask me the same things?”

Elder Hummel gave him a long, penetrating look. Blaine felt like a beetle under a magnifying glass. “You don't have any idea?”

Of course Blaine had an idea. But he didn't want to say it. He wanted Elder Hummel to. Then Blaine wouldn’t look like such a jerk. “No.”

Elder Hummel sighed. “I wasn't going to say anything about this until companionship inventory, but you were pretty much a porcupine in that entire lesson.”

“I was not!”

“Yes, you were. You barely engaged with him. Every time he looked at you, you looked like you were trying to bore holes through his forehead with the power of your gaze. I don't know what was going on with you that afternoon, whether you just weren't feeling well or you've decided to write off Chandler for some random reason, but your behavior was bordering on inappropriate.”

No. Absolutely not. If anyone in this companionship was a porcupine, it was Elder Hummel, not Blaine. And inappropriate? “I'll tell you who was inappropriate.”

“Oh?” Talk about laser beam eyes. Elder Hummel had them, and they were shooting right at Blaine. “Who would that be?”

“Chandler, of course! With his puns and his comments on your clothes and your voice and, and—” Blaine tried to come up with more offenses to add to the list, but he drew a blank. Still, it was obvious. Blaine didn’t have a lot of experience with gay people, had never been close friends with one, but it was obvious even to him. It had to be obvious to Elder Hummel. “Oh my gosh, Elder Hummel. Can’t you see? Chandler Kiehl is into you.”

Elder Hummel’s expression went from daggers to face-on-fire in zero seconds flat. “No, he’s not. He’s just being nice.”

“He’s flirting with you.”

“We don’t even know that he’s gay.”

He’s got to announce it before we can interpret a come on as a come on?”

The red on Elder Hummel’s face intensified to purple. “Is that what the problem is? You’re okay with me being gay, but the idea of someone being interested in me grosses you out?”

Elder Hummel didn't just mean Blaine was grossed out by the flirting, did he? He meant that Blaine was grossed out by who Elder Hummel was, by what he wanted—kissing and stuff. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair to you? Funny. Because I was just thinking how it wasn't fair that I have to deal with yet another homophobic Mormon.” Elder Hummel was yelling. He was yelling and his face was all sharp angles and—

“It’s not— It’s not—” Ugh. Blaine hated that Elder Hummel was so much quicker than him, so much faster at assessing the situation and drawing a conclusion, so much better at slamming words together into a form that made sense. But maybe Elder Hummel was right. Maybe he was homophobic, at least a little. Maybe the idea of two guys kissing grossed him out. After all, he’d never been able to imagine himself kissing any of the handful of gay guys he’d known in high school. But then again, he'd often seen the one gay couple in his theater group sneak little kisses to each other backstage when they thought no one else was looking, and it hadn't bothered him at all. Blaine thought it was sweet. Romantic. If there was anything negative associated with it, it was the little pang he felt in his heart because he'd never loved anyone that way. “I don’t think that’s it, Elder Hummel.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s— it's against the rules. We shouldn't let investigators flirt with us. Guys or girls.”

“Says the guy who lets every single female investigator and shop clerk and half the branch flirt with him.”

“Wait, what?”

“They're constantly commenting on your hair and your good manners and your smile and your—”

“They're just being nice.”

“Then Chandler's just being nice.”

“Okay, wait—” Blaine needed a second to think. Because there was no way that Chandler was “just being nice.” And … if Blaine thought about it, a lot of women were nice to Blaine in a way that was awfully similar to how Chandler was nice to Kurt. Blaine never thought of it as flirting, because obviously he wasn't interested in any of these people, because some of them were older and some of them were younger and a lot of them weren’t members, and also because Blaine was on his mission and he wasn't supposed to be interested in them. He’d locked his heart like a good Mormon missionary. But it was awfully flattering when people said nice things about him, and he wanted to make them feel good in return, and so he said nice things back, and— “Have I been flirting back?”

Elder Hummel's face was still sort of pinkish, but the fury of it was washing away. In fact, he looked rather amused. “A little. But I think that's just your personality.”

Blaine leaned forward against the table, covering his face with his hands. “I'm so embarrassed.”  

He felt Elder Hummel’s hand on his back, softly rubbing the little spot between his spine and shoulder blade. “You don't need to be. It’s not a sin to be friendly.”

“Yeah, but … that must be so irritating. I mean, if the way that Chandler flirts with you bothers me—and it really shouldn't bother me because I know you would never do anything about it on your mission, and if you did anything about it after your mission that's totally your decision to make.”

“I'm not going to run off with Chandler Kiehl. Ever. He’s nice, or at least I think so, but—”

“You don't have to make promises like that to me. I know what the church teaches, but I also know you're a good person. I want you to be happy, whatever direction that takes you.” Blaine still had his hands in his face, his eyes closed. He was feeling less embarrassed now, but the darkness helped him feel calmer, helped him focus on the soothing brush of Elder Hummel's hand against his back.

“What I was going to say is, I'm not interested in him that way. He's not my type.”

“What is your type?”

Elder Hummel didn't answer. He kept rubbing Blaine's back. Blaine could feel Elder Hummel’s face hovering close, his warm breath rustling against the back of his shoulder. “Elder Anderson?”

“Yes.”

“I knew Chandler was flirting with me.”

“Wait. You did?” Blaine opened his eyes and turned to face his companion.

Elder Hummel dropped his hand from Blaine's back. He looked meekly down at the table. “Yes. And I was just hoping you wouldn't notice because ... honestly? I enjoy it.”

“So you are interested in him?”

Elder Hummel shook his head. “It's just, I’ve literally never had anybody flirt with me in my entire life. I mean, not any boys. The closest any guy ever came to showing any interest in me was when a football player assaulted me in the locker room—”

“Wait. He what?” Blaine had heard about people seeing red when they were angry before, but he’d never experienced it. Now, a hundred pinpricks of red and pink prickled at the edge of his vision in time with the blood pounding in his ears.

“I’m— Oh.” Elder Hummel put his hand on Blaine's forearm, watched it as he soothed the hairs there with his thumb. “It's okay. He didn't hurt me. Not physically. He just—well, not just, but—he kissed me. We were arguing about something and I thought he was going to punch me in the face, but instead he grabbed me and kissed me. A lot. And I just, I went limp for a minute because I couldn't process what was happening. But it all turned out fine.” He glanced up at Blaine and forced a mischievous smile. “Because I kneed him in the balls and ran.”

Blaine’s heart sank. “You don’t have to make jokes to try to lighten things, Elder Hummel. That's horrible, and I'm so sorry that happened to you.”

Elder Hummel shrugged. “I wasn't making the joke for your sake. I was making it for mine. It's not easy to talk about. It’s actually—” He seemed to notice that his hand was still on Blaine's arm and pulled it back into his lap. “It's actually the first time I've told anybody.”

Blaine felt this weird mixture of sadness, anger, and relief—sadness and anger for what Elder Hummel had been through all alone, relief that he would trust Blaine with something this painful even after Blaine had been such a jerk about the Chandler stuff. He reached for Elder Hummel’s hand, and Elder Hummel let him take it, turning his palm up to meet Blaine's.

“So, yeah. It just feels nice to have a guy express nonthreatening interest in me. I know I should put the kibosh on it. It’s inappropriate and will give him the wrong idea about the church and—”

“No,” Blaine forced himself to say. Apparently he’d been flirting with women his entire mission. It wasn’t fair to hold Elder Hummel to a double standard that denied him not only the chance to flirt, but to be flirted with. “It feels nice to be appreciated. And you deserve to be appreciated, Elder Hummel. You’re an incredible man.” Blaine tried to meet his companion’s eyes, but had to settle for looking at them, because of course Elder Hummel had to look away from compliments. Blaine wished he’d learn to accept them, but he wasn’t going to be cruel about it. He squeezed Elder Hummel’s hand to release the tension. “I mean, if he starts talking about your butt, we’ll have to put him in line, but otherwise—”

“My butt?” Elder Hummel’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah. If he compliments you on your gorgeous azure eyes, he's still within the boundaries of good taste. But if he goes below the belt with his compliments—”

“Okay. Stop. Stop. I really don't want to think about Chandler Kiehl making flirty puns about my butt. I mean, I can’t even think what they would involve. What sounds like Arsch? Or Po?”

Blaine mulled it over, pulling up every word he could think of that started with po—. There were only three, but that was enough. “Dein Po ist so alarmierend poppig, dass ich die Polizei rufen muss.” Blaine could totally beat Chandler at his own stupid game.

Elder Hummel quirked an eyebrow. “My butt is so alarmingly tacky—”

“No, bright!”

“My butt is so alarmingly bright that you need to call the police?”

“Exactly.”

Elder Hummel stifled a laugh. “I think Chandler could do better than that.”

“Okay. But what about this? Ich halte einen Marsch, zu feiern um deinen Arsch.”

Elder Hummel’s laugh bubbled into a snort. “That’s not even grammatical.”

Blaine made a concerted effort to keep a straight face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Holding a march to celebrate my ass?”

Blaine had to give up. Elder Hummel wouldn't stop laughing, and so Blaine had to start laughing, and then Elder Hummel laughed harder, a full-hearted laugh that made his face crinkle and tears stream out the corners of his eyes, and Blaine lost it, and pretty soon they were both doubled over and holding their sides and begging each other to stop making terrible German puns for the sake of all that is good and holy, and also for their stomach muscles.

“You,” Elder Hummel said later, as they were getting ready for bed, “are not a terrible companion.”

Blaine looked up from the towel he was hanging back over the bathroom rack. The expression on Elder Hummel’s face was affectionate, filled with light. It made Blaine’s heart swell. This was what having a best friend was like, wasn't it? You didn't always see eye to eye on everything, but you understood each other, and you loved each other through the misunderstandings. “I'm so sorry about the Chandler stuff earlier. You know I love you no matter what, right?”

Elder Hummel flushed pink, but his smile grew bigger, and that’s what mattered. “I know, Elder Anderson.” And then, looking down at the floor—and Blaine knew not to take it personally, or worry about it, because that's just how Elder Hummel was—he added, “I love you too.”

[teddyshoney]

It’s here! My story for the 2021 Klaine CC Valentine’s Day Challenge is here! Well, the first two chapters are, anyway. This story is part 13 in the In Every Lifetime series I’m writing with the lovely @jayhawk-writes, my beautiful beta for the story. Details below.

Title: My Rhythm and Blues  Summary: Kurt's finally in New York, the city he's dreamed of coming to for so long and the place he should meet his soulmate, according to his mark. After a once-in-a-lifetime concert, he heads to Marie's Crisis for some drinks, and he meets someone whom he's been crushing on for years: Blaine Anderson, lead singer of Warbler Attack. The singer invites him, as a joke, to go on tour with the band, and Kurt takes him up on his offer, sending him off on a whirlwind romance he never thought he'd experience.

The prologue and chapter 1 can be found HERE on AO3 or HERE on FF.net.

I do want to remind everyone that his is also my follower appreciation story! So, if you want to give me ideas of things you’d like to see included in the story, you can fill out my one question survey HERE.

Thanks, everyone! Enjoy!

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

invisible string

Prompt 1 (invisible string by Taylor Swift) from the Klaine/CC Valentine’s Challenge 2021. 

Thank you to @klaineccfanficlibrary for jumpstarting this series for me!

Summary: they were always meant to be together

Announcement: this is also the first installment of my folklore series. It pairs well with Lover. I’ll be arranging the stories at some point so they read in track order. Enjoy!

AO3

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Blaine thought it must be strange to sit in the park trying to read but getting distracted by the greenness of the green. The people walking past him didn’t comment on his odd behavior. New Yorkers didn’t care about what other people were doing, they had places to be and no time to care about weirdos admiring grass while sitting on park benches. 

But Kurt Hummel wasn’t a true New Yorker. He may fit right in with the city folk in terms of fashion and efficiency yet Kurt was still fundamentally a small-town boy. 

He had an eye for details and Blaine had an eye for Kurt.

He loved watching Kurt perfect a particularly challenging dance routine in class. He enjoyed watching Kurt analyze food menus when they went to get lunch together as if deciding on the right dish was going to affect how the rest of his day was laid out. Blaine liked walking with Kurt and actively seeing Kurt take in his surroundings, the strangers walking past them, and the city itself all around them. Sometimes, if Blaine was extremely lucky that day, Kurt would turn to him with a smile—just a little grin, no teeth—and make some sort of comment about what a fellow student was wearing and chuckle under his breath about it when it was particularly bad or sigh in awe if he had been out-fashioned. 

On that Friday morning, Blaine was waiting to meet Kurt for their usual coffee date. Well, not quite a date, just a tri-weekly coffee before their shared dance class. Sitting on a park bench admiring the grass's coloring because he didn't have Kurt to admire instead. 

It was in a taxi that same night when Blaine realized he was in love with Kurt Hummel. 

They had been out dancing with some friends from class celebrating the end of midterms week. Kurt and he decided to share a taxi home because they both lived in the dorms. They were slightly sweaty, the cab driver refused to change the station from something other than whatever radio talk show he was listening to, but they didn’t really care. They had each other and didn’t need music anymore. 

Blaine just kept thinking how easy it would be to walk his fingers over to Kurt’s hand and intertwine them. It shocked him so much that he shuttered and Kurt asked him what was wrong. Of course, he stammered out “nothing” and tried to calm himself down.

The taxi wasn’t dark because the city was never dark; Blaine knew if he started to blush Kurt would notice. So he willed himself to breathe and suddenly they were at the campus and going their separate ways while promising to text each other when they were safely inside their dorm. That was that: Blaine was in love with Kurt and he had no idea what to do about it. 

****

Teal was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

Colors were always very important to Kurt. They were a way to express himself without too much fear of being treated definitely. At least the bullies weren’t offended by the colors he wore, just the fact that he existed and was very obviously gay.

Now colors weren’t just shouts into the world about his sexual orientation (though they did help with that as did his love of layers), they were emotional markers for him. Reds for romance, blues for sadness, gray for loneliness, etc.…

He started to notice colors more and more often as he spent considerable amounts of time with a fellow student, Blaine Anderson. Like the yellow bowtie, he wore the first time they grabbed coffee. It had been the first weekend of the spring semester, so late in January that they were discussing the possibility of a snow day during the first week back at school. Kurt had been in his element, plenty of layers to remove in the warmth of the coffee shop. Blaine had adorable light gray earmuffs and mittens resting on the table. 

They learned a lot about each other that day. Blaine had lived in Roosevelt, NY with his older brother for most of his life until moving to the city for university. He really was only an hour from home, he often said. 

They met at NYU. 

Kurt was a Performance Studies major at Tisch and Blaine was an education major but they both found themselves in an elective dance class spring semester. They were both freshmen, new to the city, and had a love of coffee. With dance class at 9 am, they made a habit of meeting for coffee beforehand. Friendship just blossomed from there. 

It was the end of March now, spring break over and done. Blaine was in the middle of this tale of his 16-year-old self working at the yogurt shop, somewhere between him spilling a pint of blueberry yogurt on his teal shirt and the tie-dye effect that occurred, Kurt realized for the first time: I’m in love with him. 

They weren’t even dating. They had only known each other for two months. Yet, here Kurt was walking by this boy’s side laughing at his ridiculous antics, and very much in love. 

****

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

One year after their revelations about each other they were sitting in Centennial Park near where Blaine grew up. Instead of simply admiring the grass, as Blaine usually did when he came here, the couple laid out a blanket and had a picnic in it. Blaine had packed everything but Kurt had made all the food. They were a team now if only for the last six months. It’s been the best six months they had ever spent in New York, which was really saying something for Blaine because he had been living here his entire life and Kurt had spent his whole life fantasizing about it.

But somehow their relationship exceeded all of those fantasies and surpassed all of those previous life experiences. Maybe it was because they were doing this together and not alone. For so long they had both been gray and now they had color. 

They had found a love that was worth everything they had already gone through and worth anything that they would go through in the future because they had each other and they knew it. Even though it only been six months, Kurt and Blaine knew this was going to be forever for both of them. 

One single thread of gold tied them together and neither of them were ever letting go.

[jayhawk-writes]

MASTERPOST

I saw some really great advice and have decided that I am going to make a masterpost of my fics. I am going to put all but one of them under the cut so people’s dashboards don’t get too clogged. 

I didn’t realize until last night that I have written 15 stories in less than a year, with a total of 263,659 words. This past week alone, I’ve written over 15K words (my muse has been on overdrive and is kicking some ass behind the scenes). The Glee Fanfiction Friday has drastically helped with that, and it’s helped me to expand some of my completed works where certain events might not have been mentioned or elaborated on otherwise. 

UPDATE AS OF DECEMBER 14, 2021: I have now written 42 stories with a total wordcount of 499,285!!! (Also...it won’t let me tag all of the stories! How rude!!!!)

Here they are starting in the order of how they were written. The ones with an * behind the title denote they are part of @teddyshoney​ (who is also my wonderful beta, friend and cheerleader) and I’s series, In Every Lifetime. I hope you enjoy them if you haven’t already! 

I have also, since creating this original masterpost, started writing another series. Shimmering Blue is a fantasy series where Kurt drinks a vial of shimmering blue liquid and is transported to a different reality/world where he will meet some version of Blaine. These stories will be denoted with **, and will eventually countdown from NINE to ZERO, making the series ten stories total.

Domus Civita*(for the Klaine 2019 Advent Challenge)

Words: 62,612 Rated: Explicit Summary: While on vacation to a city he's never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?”

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

The Writing On My Skin* (for the Klaine 2020 Valentine’s Challenge)

Words: 36,414 Rated: Mature Summary: Soulmates, when the younger of the two turns 16, both get a unique mark somewhere on their skin that will have or has had some meaning to them. They can write to each other back and forth by writing on their skin. Kurt Hummel has been waiting for his soulmate to finally turn 16 so that he would have someone to talk to about all of the things he can't tell his dad or other friends. Nobody really knows how bad the bullying has gotten at McKinley. He hopes that his soulmate can help him get through this tough time, but he has no way of knowing that Fate, and Noah Puckerman, will lead him right to his soulmate.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

The Silver-Scaled Mark* (for the Blaine Big Bang Challenge)

Words: 52,737 Rated: Explicit Summary: Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world.

Art by the talented @michaelscribbles​

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

The Jeffery (for the Glee Potluck Big Bang Exchange for @nineofhearts4​)

Words: 5,729 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: The Jeffery, a cute, upscale bar is the perfect place for a first date. But, for Kurt Hummel, The Jeffery is the place where an adorable young bartender saves him from a series of disastrous first dates. Maybe he's just going out with the wrong person?

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Guarding the Shadows* (for @klaineship2​)

Words: 111,977 Rated: Mature Summary: Too distracted by their love for each other to make their own choices, Kurt and Blaine are thrust into an adventure they know almost nothing about. Born in mid-1600 London, they must overcome many obstacles including their financial barriers and their desire to find true love. However, there's a hidden piece of the puzzle they know nothing about: vampires.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

We Should Play Monopoly More Often (GFF 2020)

Words: 3,034 Rated: Mature Summary: Blaine, Kurt, Brittany and Santana all play Monopoly one night. Drinks were had. Secret kinks were revealed. Then more Monopoly is played...but this time the game doesn’t get finished.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

I Hoped It Was You (GFF 2020)

Words: 2,555 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: Kurt is ready to immerse himself in New York and hopes that his college experience is amazing. The only problem, his roommate doesn't seem to want to interact with him much at all.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

How Far I’ll Go (for the 2020 Glee Potluck Big Bang)

Words: 36,586 Rated: Mature Summary: In a world where soulmates are found by touching one another, little Kurt, who’s been bullied even at the tender age of three, has finally found some friends. As kids do, to say goodbye, Kurt hugs three of his friends and earns himself a soulmark. The only problem? He doesn’t know who it belongs to. Filling this prompt by @justawriterwithdreams: Soulmate has a mark on the place where their soulmate first touches them.

Art by the talented @michaelscribbles​

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

In Hindsight (GFF 2020)

Words: 807 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Kurt’s had a very bad past hour. It’s a good thing his husband is amazing.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Seven (GFF 2020)

Words: 3,944 Rated: Mature Summary:  When Kurt told him he was lucky he was “dirty cute” yesterday, he had absolutely no idea the mind-blowing night he was in store for.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Soft Kitty (GFF 2020)

Words: 1,104 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Kurt's had a long day and is probably overtired at this point. When he can't sleep, he asks Blaine to sing for him.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Fluttershy (GFF2020 and Part 2 of How Far I’ll Go)

Words: 606 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Spending time with his best friend was the highlight of Kurt’s month, even when ouchies were involved.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Goofball (GFF 2020 and Part 2 of Domus Civita)

Words: 751 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Kurt really, really loved his husband. He especially loved him when he made him laugh.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Can You Feel the Love Tonight? (GFF2020 and Part 3 of How Far I’ll Go)

Words: 2,682 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: After the championship football game, Kurt and Blaine go to a park and make some happy memories.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Naked Cooking (GFF2020 and Part 3 of Domus Civita)

Words: 1,864 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: After Blaine's surprise, Kurt really wanted to return the favor. Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Best Surprise Ever (GFF2020)

Words: 768 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Patience had never been Kurt's strongest characteristic. It's a good thing Blaine didn't leave his surprise at the apartment when he went to work today.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Sweetheart, Who’s This? (GFF2020 and Follower Appreciation Gift @coffeeorderwrites​)

Words: 1,864 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: After Blaine's surprise, Kurt really wanted to return the favor. Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

So Here’s What We’re Going To Do (GFF2020 and Part 4 of Domus Civita)

Words: 2,274 Rated: Explicit Summary: Blaine hates when Kurt is gone for Fashion Week and he always likes to have a little something special for him when he returns. (OR) Where Blaine makes cookies for Kurt, has amazing phone sex, and then attempts to eat said cookies.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Lazy Sunday (GFF2020 and Part 5 of Domus Civita)

Words: 1,568 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: One lazy Sunday, Blaine asks Kurt about how he met his very first boyfriend and love. What he hears is a hilarious tale of how his husband met Sebastian in the candy aisle at the grocery store.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Happily Ever After (GFF2020 and Part 4 of How Far I’ll Go)

Words: 821 Rated: General Audiences Summary: During one of their monthly playdates, Kurt and Blaine tell stories about a rogue prince who doesn't want to marry a princess.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Judge, Jury, and Executioner (GFF2020)

Words: 2,965 Rated: Mature Summary: Lexi Knight picked the wrong person's boyfriend to fuck with.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Fucking Journal, Damn Book (GFF2020 and Part 2 of Guarding the Shadows)

Words: 1,277 Rated: Mature Summary: Blaine misses Kurt. He misses him a lot! This is how he's dealing with it at the moment.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Twitter Lottery (GFF2020 and Follower Appreciation Gift @wantjes19)

Words: 4,125 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: Blaine Anderson has been miserable most of his life. He's in an unhappy marriage and is ready for a change. Kurt Hummel has got a serious case of writer's block. So, what does he do? He chooses one lucky winner to come and spend two weeks with him in LA. Wouldn't you know? Blaine Anderson is the lucky winner.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

It’s A Jolly Holiday (GFF2020 and Part 5 of How Far I’ll Go)

Words: 1,378 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Blaine, Kurt, and their parents go to New York for a mini-vacation. They see a show and go to Central Park where Burt's dancing causes a penguin riot (not really though).

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

So Very Thankful* (GFF2020 and Gift for @teddyshoney​ and @gleefulpoppet​)

Words: 53,026 Rated: Explicit Summary: Kurt and Blaine chose carefully what their new adventure will be. One really wants to be taken care of, and the other has no problem being the person who takes care of them. Watch them earn their soulmarks as they fall in love.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Seth (Part 2 of So Very Thankful)

Words: 3,547 Rated: Explicit Summary: An unexpected and unwanted visitor finds Blaine alone in his classroom. Once security escorts the visitor away, Blaine gets ahold of the one person alive who can help him: his soulmate, his Dom. Once Kurt gets home and Blaine is able to explain what happened, Kurt does a very thorough job of re-focusing Blaine's mind.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Love, E (Part 3 of So Very Thankful and Gift for @gleefulpoppet​)

Words: 4,053 Rated: Explicit Summary: Blaine has been asking his Dom for something for a long time. This is when Kurt makes all of that want of Blaine's become a reality.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Stargazing Memories (GFF2021)

Words: 1,176 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Kurt reminisces on some of his experiences here in Cassville while waiting for Blaine to show up. This is one of those memories.

**This story is set in kb.ellen’s A Summer Story with permission from the author.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart* (Tan Hands and Tan Lines 2021 Summer Event)

Words: 30,050 Rated: Explicit Summary: Blaine and Kurt spent a while picking their next adventure. When they finally decided, Caphriel was elated. This was an adventure he had been waiting for them to choose.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Nerds (GFF2021 and Gift for @gleefulpoppet​)

Words: 5,078 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: Kurt decides to move away from home for college to a much more liberal town than Lima. So what if it happens to be the same place his favorite team is? That’s just icing on the cake. He fully expects to go to classes and make friends. What he doesn't expect is to meet the love of his life in the most unexpected of places while wearing the most unlikely of outfits.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Poppet’s Standards of Communication (GFF2021, Part 2 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart, and Gift for @georgiegems​)

Words: 2,062 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: Kurt and Blaine are excited to read and learn from Poppet as she releases her first book into the world. Their communication is already pretty good. How much better will it get after reading her advice?

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Could I Have This Dance? (GFF2021, Part 3 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart, and Gift for @teddyshoney​)

Words: 1,467 Rated: Explicit Summary: This wasn't exactly what Blaine had in mind when he told Kurt he fantasized about lap dances. He loves it just the same, though, and he'll never think of science the same way again.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

I Am... (GFF2021 and Part 4 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart)

Words: 1,814 Rated: Teen and Up Summary: Santana was having a rough day. Her soulmates had an idea, though, to help her out.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Lounge Singer (GFF2021)

Words: 2,087 Rated: Mature Summary: Santana was having a rough day. Her soulmates had an idea, though, to help her out.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Nightshift (Part 4 of So Very Thankful)

Words: 603 Rated: Explicit Summary: Blaine has to work the nightshift at the library and Kurt helps him pass the time.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Ice Cream (GFF2021 and Part 5 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart)

Words: 1,438 Rated: Explicit Summary: Kurt and Blaine have a nice snack of vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Fiancé's (GFF2021 and Part 2 of Nerds)

Words: 1,389 Rated: Explicit Summary: Kurt and Blaine just got engaged, and they still have to walk around for half of the day at the con. Or do they?

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

I Just Can’t Wait To Be King (GFF2021,  Part 6 of How Far I’ll Go, and Gift for @teddyshoney​)

Words: 1,660 Rated: General Audiences Summary: You never know what's going to happen at the Hummel and Anderson's monthly get togethers. What happens at this one, though, is something Blaine will likely never let Kurt forget.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Crazy Soulmate (GFF2021 and Part 6 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart)

Words: 1,126 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Blaine had a plan to surprise Kurt for their second anniversary. It was a crazy plan, sure, and he hoped his soulmate loved it.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Thanksgiving Scavenger Hunt (GFF2021 and Part 7 of Outlined on My Finger, Printed in My Heart)

Words: 1,372 Rated: General Audiences Summary: Kurt and Blaine go back to Lima for Thanksgiving. Not only do they have their annual scavenger hunt, they also witness the magic of soulmate bonds right in front of them.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Braid of Gold* (GFF2021)

Words: 40,068 Rated: Mature Summary: Kurt and Blaine ask Caphriel to make the decision about where they go next. He chooses a lifetime where Kurt and Blaine will have to navigate a situation they've not yet been in. They'll have to work through loss and betrayal and ultimately, their bond will be stronger as a family because of it.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

It Was Even Better (Follower Appreciation Gift @backslashdelta​)

Words: 3,676 Rated: Explicit Summary: Kurt had been having dreams about a very specific fantasy the last few nights. Who was Blaine to deny his sub something he really, truly wanted?

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Nine** (KlaineCCValentines2022)

Words: 17,088 Rated: Mature Summary: Kurt Hummel is a half-elf living in the picturesque village of O’a Nalore. One night, he meets a woman who, because of the kindness he shows her, changes his whole life.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

Eight** (Klaine Spring Fling 2022)

Words: 25,061 Rated: Explicit Summary: Kurt, once again, drinks the vial of blue liquid and it transports him to a beautiful oasis. Not only will he find out where he is, he'll also learn that things are not always what they seem.

Read it on AO3 or FF.net

[catcat-85]

This is my contribution to the 2021 Klaine/CC Valentine's Day Challenge.

Day 14: Love On Top by Beyonce

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!

Summary: After months of being friends with benefits, Blaine tries to convince Kurt that they belong together.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Chapters: 14/14 Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel Additional Tags: Valentine's Day Challenge, Fluff, Romance Summary:

My collection of fics for the 2021 Klaine/CC Valentine's Day Challenge.

[andcrsonn]

55, 56, and 59 for the Glee ask? xx

55) Favorite Christmas episode?

Season 3: Extraordinary Merry Christmas

56) Favorite Valentine’s Day episode?

Season 3: Heart

59) When did you first get into Glee?

My friend was obsessed with it (Klaine in particular) when I was in junior high (2010-2011). I watched some Klaine videos on YouTube and thought they were sweet but had no interest in watching the show.

Fast forward 10 years. 2021. Lol a whole bunch of Glee videos kept appearing in my recommended on YouTube and I started watching them (the one that kept re-appearing was one of everybody hating on Rachel). I started watching it (half as a joke) because I saw it was on Netflix and by the end of season 1 I was like AAAAA damn it I actually like it. Then season 2 came and Blaine was introduced and from there on out I was in love ♥♥

tl;dr - 2021

[grlnxtdr30]

I posted 4,742 times in 2021

202 posts created (4%)

4540 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 22.5 posts.

I added 98 tags in 2021

#0 - 13 posts

#klaine - 19 posts

#klaineccvalentines2021 - 17 posts

#klaine fan fiction - 12 posts

#valentine's challenge - 11 posts

#klainetober halloween fic extravaganza 2021 - 9 posts

#vampire movies - 5 posts

#witch/warlock movies - 5 posts

#klainetober halloween fic extravaganza - 4 posts

#valentine's challenge 2021 - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 72 characters

#i'd even be happy if people just pronounced my full first name correctly

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Valentine’s Prompts

The @klaineccfanficlibrary ‘s annual Valentine’s writing challenges is starting on Monday, so I thought I would post some prompts to try and inspire more people to participate. Feel Free to add any to this list. And PLEASE Reblog!

1) First Valentine’s Day as a couple (I know, they did that in season 3, but I never liked the fact that they weren’t together until the end.)

2) AU where one or both are just getting out of bad relationships, and they meet in the candy aisle at the grocery store.

3) One is a Florist, and the other comes in to order two dozen red roses. The florist assumes the flowers are for the other’s girlfriend.

4) One of them is a singing telegram, the other is the roommate of the person they are supposed to sing for.

5) Coffee shop AU where one is the owner/manager of the coffee shop, and the other is waiting for their blind date that never shows up

6) Meet cute where one is a kindergarten teacher, and the other has a child in their class and volunteers to bring in cupcakes and punch for the class’ Valentine’s party.

7) They’ve been roommates for several years, and after one of them gets dumped just before Valentine’s Day, the other takes them to an amusement park, buys them flowers, wins them a stuffed animal, and feeds them chocolate.

8) They work for rival Greeting card Companies.

As I said, feel free to add to this list!

26 notes • Posted 2021-01-27 23:35:30 GMT

#4

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN!

It’s time for the Second Annual KlaineTober Halloween Fic Extravaganza!!

31 days of Klaine Halloween Prompts! This year the prompts will be from Classic Horror (and some not so Horrifying) movies! Fan Fic Authors and Fan Artists, everyone is welcome to participate! One shots, chapter fics, drawings, picture manips and video clips! If you’ve got the talent and a love for Klaine and Halloween, this is the time to share! You can even resubmit older fics if they fit the prompt!

First Prompt drops October First at Midnight CT!

31 notes • Posted 2021-08-31 21:07:05 GMT

#3

Telegram For Mr. Hummel

Day 13 of @klaineccfanficlibrary‘s Valentine’s Challenge. The prompt is Peter Cetera’s Glory of Love.

Telegram For Mr. Hummel

Blaine glared at his boss, who also happened to be his roommate and best friend.

“Sam, really? How am I supposed to get around town in this getup?”

Sam just smiled. He’d come up with the idea of starting a singing telegram business to help him and some of his friends earn money to help out with living expenses while they put themselves through college.

“It was the client’s special request, along with the song choice.” The blonde man put his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Come on, dude, it’s for a friend of Mercedes’, and she specifically requested you. Something about your chivalrous nature and your Troy Donahue looks.”

Blaine sighed. “Fine, but I still don’t know how I am supposed to get there in this outfit. It wouldn’t be so bad walking through the theater district, people would just think it’s a publicity stunt for one of the shows, but Bushwick? That’s three subway trains and a two block walk from here.”

Sam shook his head. “Mike has you covered. His uncle is going to let him borrow the delivery van from the restaurant. He’ll drive you there and back. He just has to have the van back before five, so you need to hurry and get going so you’ll make it on time.”

Blaine just shook his head and heaved a long suffering sigh. “Fine, let’s go.”

…

“You three are being awfully suspicious,” Kurt said to his two roommates and his best friend. “What’s going on?”

“How are we acting suspicious?” Mercedes said, calmly taking a sip of her coffee, as Rachel tidied up the pillows on the couch, and Santana pretended to read a magazine.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s start with the fact that you just ate two of Rachel’s vegan chocolate chip oatmeal raisin cookies without complaint. And the fact that Rachel is actually cleaning. And Santana, that magazine is not only three months out of date, it’s upside down. So again I ask, what is going on?”

Before any of them could answer, there was a knock on the door. 

“It’s for you!” three voices said in unison.

Kurt frowned. “And just how do you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Rachel said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the door. He glared at her. 

“This had better not be another one of your lame brained…”

Before he could finish, the knock sounded again. Rolling his eyes, he reached out and slid the loft door open to reveal...A knight in shining armor?”

“Telegram for Kurt Hummel,” came a voice from within the helmet that hid the person’s face. The knight passed a mini boombox to Rachel, and turned it on. A familiar song began to play.

Tonight it's very clear

'Cause we're both lying here

There's so many things I wanna say

I will always love you

I would never leave you alone

 Sometimes I just forget

Say things I might regret

It breaks my heart to see you crying

I don't wanna lose you

See the full post

32 notes • Posted 2021-02-13 16:36:09 GMT

#2

One more week! First prompt drops at Midnight, Central, October 1st!

How it Works;

There will be a new theme every 5 days. Each day, I will post a movie clip or trailer from a classic film in that theme. Let it inspire you in some way, and go create something! A Fic, art, photo manip, everything counts!

This is primarily a KLAINE challenge, but other pairings are welcome. This is also a HALLOWEEN Challenge, so please keep that in mind!

Please tag any submissions with #KlaineTober Halloween Fic Extravaganza 2021, and we can all enjoy a spooktacular good month!

34 notes • Posted 2021-09-25 03:14:40 GMT

#1

I don’t usually ask for help...

Our family has hit a rough patch, financially. Both my husband and I are on unpaid medical leave for the next few weeks at least. I don’t usually ask people for help, but right now things are really tight, and it doesn’t look like there will be any help coming before bills come due.

I’ve set up a GoFundMe account to raise enough money to pay this month’s bills. If anyone can donate, we’d be eternally grateful!

38 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 21:52:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[wowbright]

Summer Skies

Summary: A conversation at a church soccer game gets Kurt thinking about his choices.

Words: ~2500 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title and inspiration from the Day 4 prompt song, Adore You by Harry Styles, particularly the lines You’re a wonder under summer skies, brown skin and lemon over ice.

Notes: This story takes place in the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine fall in love while serving as missionaries in Germany. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

More Notes: I jump ahead in this one, skipping over a lot of important stuff that I will write later. Blame it on Harry Stiles and summer skies. Why couldn’t he write about spring skies? Well. Suffice it to say, the part I haven’t written yet is Blaine coming out to Kurt and them figuring out they’re in love. In this vignette, they're still in the process of trying to figure out what to do about it.

Kurt needed to be careful and not spend too much time looking at Blaine. Not because he thought anyone would notice—they were on opposing teams, and keeping an eye out for opponents was only natural—but because if he looked, his gaze might get caught there, and he’d get so immersed in wonder at the way his companion looked under summer skies that he wouldn’t see anything else, and the next thing he'd know, a soccer ball would smack into his head and he'd go flat down on the field and the opposing team would score.

Why he'd been allowed in the rotation for goalie in the first place was a mystery to Kurt. Everyone else in the Ingolstadt branch was 10 times better at soccer then he was, and that included the two 7-year-olds at the opposite side of the field who'd doubled up in the position of goalie on account of being short and young. On that logic, Kurt and Blaine should have been allowed to team up on account of being American. At least it wasn't a real game, and Kurt could rotate out of his current positions when one of the teams finally scored.

Chiko came barreling down the field with the ball, her short black ponytail bobbing side-to-side, a determined grimace on her face. The Wörle kids were supposed to be his defense, but they'd been diverted by a tricky series of passes between Chiko and their dad, so they were still halfway down the field. Meanwhile, Chiko was at most 10 yards away from him. It was hopeless.

“Don’t do it, Chiko. Have mercy. Don't you remember I baptized you?”

“We're not at church now,” she said with a mischievous smile, and kicked.

Kurt heard the loud thud of the ball before he felt its sting against his paired forearms. Then he noticed that the field was tilting downward and his feet weren't on the ground.

Huh. He was actually blocking the ball. Or at least halfway there. What was he supposed to do with it now? Kurt saw Ute Wörle out of the corner of his eye and swung his arms, praying for the best.

And it actually went toward her. She looked as surprised as he felt, her eyes going wide before she stuck out her tongue in concentration and jumped, catching the ball with a bent knee, and kicked it down the field far enough to give Kurt momentary respite. Chiko turned to chase it. “Next time, elder,” she called over her shoulder.

Usually, Kurt and Blaine wouldn't attend the branch’s Saturday evening pick-up games, but the investigators they had planned to have dinner with had cancelled at the last minute and it was more fun than going tracting. Plus, members were encouraged to bring their friends, so it was a chance to do some subtle proselytizing on the sidelines. Alas, this week the only non-members who’d shown up had been a pair of teenage girls who’d flirted with an oblivious Blaine for a little bit before saying they weren't really interested in hearing about the church, they just come by to hang out because their friend was Mormon and had invited them, but they themselves were feminists and didn't like how churches blamed women for everything.

“Then you should ask your friend about Mother Eve,” Kurt had said.

“You mean, the one you hate on the most?” The shorter girl with wispy blonde hair asked—Carola, Kurt thought it was.

“No, not at all. Christians who demonize Mother Eve do so because they don't have the fullness of the scriptures. But our prophet Joseph Smith gave us scriptures that painted a bigger picture. Because it doesn't really make sense that choosing knowledge would be a sin, does it?”

“Of course not,” said her friend with the pageboy cut, whose name Kurt absolutely could not remember, but Blaine had written down somewhere, thank goodness. “We're Homo sapiens. We seek knowledge. It's in our nature. It's silly to think that following our nature should be a punishable crime.”

“Well, according to our scriptures, it's not. God gave Eve and Adam a choice. They could live on earth forever, always staying young but never learning or changing—because all their needs would be met in the garden of Eden, so they wouldn't need to learn anything. Or they could take the risk of forging out on their own. They would be able to create things, build homes in towns and cities, have children—”

“Make art,” Blaine had chimed in.

“Yes—and explore science, and discover new things.  But to do that, they needed to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and that would take away their ability to live in the garden forever. It wasn't a punishment. It's just that, like every decision, there were pros and cons on each side. No longer being able to live forever was a con of the decision to seek knowledge. But the positive aspects outweigh the negative. So we in the church are grateful for the choice Mother Eve made in the garden, because it means we have the opportunity to learn and grow.”

The girls hadn’t converted on the spot, but they’d seemed intrigued, and later when they left, they'd been willing to take the phone number of the sister missionaries.

Kurt mulled over the conversation as he stood uselessly at his goal, since all the players were currently scrambling for the ball on the other side of the field. Blaine was in the thick of it, enthusiastic and exuberant as ever, wholeheartedly invested in getting the ball even if it meant stealing it from a 12-year-old. To be fair, the 12-year-old’s parents were around six feet tall and he himself was only an inch short than Blaine—or maybe they were the same height, when one accounted for the voluminousness of Blaine’s hair. Kurt wasn't terribly surprised when the kids snatched the ball back from Blaine and kicked it into the opposition’s goal. Instead of looking disappointed, Blaine broke into a smile and patted the kid on the back before running off to shake hands with his team’s twin goalies and say something that made them laugh. Blaine laughed then, too, and God—he was so beautiful, his sun-browned skin glowing in the golden light of the midsummer evening and his innate goodwill palpable from the opposite side of the soccer field.

“It's your turn to be on offense, unless you want to take a break,” Brother Wörle said.

“Um…” Kurt walked toward the midline and sought out Blaine again. When their eyes met, Blaine’s grin widened. Kurt couldn't help the little flutter that rose in his chest as he asked Blaine with raised eyebrows and improvised hand gestures whether he wanted to keep playing or go to the sidelines. Blaine nodded that he wanted to play. Kurt turned to Brother Wörle. “I'll play offense.”

Blaine was still on defense, which gave Kurt a lovely thrill, because it meant that by the rules of the game, Blaine would have to come close to him every time Kurt made a move toward the goal. So Kurt made lots of moves, and Blaine kept bumping into his shoulder as he tried to recapture the ball, and their legs got tangled up more than once, and they tripped back-flat onto the field, knocking the wind out of each other so hard they both had to laugh. Kurt had never pictured himself like this, flattened out on a ball field and enjoying it—the soft scratchiness of the grass through his clothes, the glorious view of the pinking sky, the sweet soreness in his muscles. Back in high school when he'd been a placekicker, his coach had asked him to train as a substitute running back so that he'd have more to do than sit around until it was time for a field goal. Kurt had refused. He'd been smaller then and didn't like the odds of getting tackled by a brute twice his size. But more than that, he hated the idea of falling, of losing control, of getting muddied by the earth.

“Get up, Elder Hummel. You're not dead.” Blaine was already on his feet, reaching his hand down toward Kurt to pull him up.

“I know. But the view is great from here.” Kurt had meant the sky, but Blaine pursed his lips and averted his eyes like he was trying to keep himself from giggling or blushing and—yeah. That view was great, too.

For the next round, Blaine switched to goalie while Kurt stayed on offense. If the arrangement had been planned, it couldn’t have been better for Kurt’s team. Because of course Kurt was going to do everything he could to stay in Blaine's orbit, to tease him with zigzagging approaches and unpredictable movements so Blaine would have no choice but to keep his eyes on him. The running got Kurt’s heart racing, but so did the way Blaine swooped and twirled to block his shots like they were in a dance, the way his face slipped back and forth between concentration and giddy smiles, how Blaine laughed at Kurt’s ridiculous taunts and Kurt laughed back, so that pretty soon all he was doing was running and laughing, his joy amplifying every time it ricocheted off Blaine’s, the way a couple's image was amplified with each reflection in the mirrors of the temple’s sealing rooms.

Kurt finally made a goal after tricking Chiko into running in the opposite direction and aiming the ball as high as he could get it without going over the net. Blaine jumped for it but missed it by a fraction of an inch, then landed on the ground with a somersault and a snicker.

“You're supposed to be nicer to me, you know,” Blaine said as he righted himself on his feet. “You're my senior companion and I need your patience and lovingkindness. I should tell the mission president that you're mean.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You love it when I win.”

Blaine ducked his head and blinked. “I do,” he whispered, and looked up again into Kurt’s eyes with a glance that only lasted a fraction of a second, but was pregnant with meaning. Kurt felt his blood rush southward.

“You're incorrigible,” Kurt said and ran off to the water fountain to splash his face with cold water and sing nursery songs to himself and try to think of anything but the fiery spark blooming in his belly.

Kurt felt calmer by the time the game ended. He’d sat on the sidelines for the rest of the game, cheering the other players on and thinking about Mother Eve. Like her, Kurt had been put into a life filled with difficult choices. Like her, he could choose the path of least resistance, or he could take a risk. If he continued to follow the church’s rules, the prophets’ and apostles’ directions—if he remained celibate and held on to the hope that he would be made straight in heaven—they would tell him he was doing the right thing. His leaders would praise him for it, hold him up as an example of righteousness. And Kurt would stagnate and become resentful. He didn’t want to become straight in heaven. He wanted to be with Blaine.

And that was the other option being offered to him. He could follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost, the feeling of peace he felt when he thought about Blaine—a life with him, a home with him and, yes, even a marriage. The church wouldn't understand. It would see his actions as not just a transgression, but a sin. His leaders would tell him he was cursed, that he had chosen to live outside of God's law, and they would likely try to punish him for it.

But there was a difference between punishment and consequence. The story of Mother Eve told him so. He may have to leave the church the way that Eve had to leave Eden, but just as she continued to carry paradise in her heart, he would carry his love of the Gospel. The church couldn’t take that away from him.

Kurt silently repeated the scripture to himself:

… if Adam had not transgressed he would not have fallen, but he would have remained in the garden of Eden. And all things which were created must have remained in the same state in which they were after they were created … wherefore, they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin.

But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.

Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

*

“Some of the folks are going to the beer garden for an after party,” Blaine said after the game as they unlocked their bikes from the rack. Everything was lit orange by the setting sun. “Would you care to accompany me?”

Kurt was far past the point of being shocked at the idea of Mormons hanging out at a beer garden. German Mormons knew how to take care of themselves. They would order soft drinks or near beer or mineral water and stuff their faces with fried potatoes and Wurst. You could take the beer out of the German, but you couldn't take the German out of the beer culture.

Lemon cola and fries would be nice, but it was close to nine, nearing curfew. And Kurt had other ways he wanted to spend his time before they went to sleep.

“No,” Kurt said. He lifted his eyes to Blaine’s. “I want to go home with you.”  

Kurt meant to say other things, too. That he was ready, that he knew now where the Spirit was guiding him—to open himself up to Blaine, to make himself vulnerable, to take Blaine’s hand and discover each other—discover life—together. But Kurt's hands started to tremble, and his throat wouldn't make any more sounds, because he was looking at Blaine and his heart was filled with so much love it felt like it might burst.

But Kurt didn't have to say anything. He saw the spark of recognition in Blaine’s eyes, and the same degree of love and desire reflected back at him. “Okay,” Blaine said, but it was more like a breath than a word. “Yes.”

[wowbright]

Lock the Door and Turn the Lights Down Low

Summary: Kurt overhears Blaine doing something very, very private.

Words: ~2200 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title and inspiration from the Day 10 prompt song, Your Man by Josh Turner, particularly the line Never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can’t believe how much it turns me on.

Notes: Part of the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany. Kurt is out as gay, and Blaine is closeted to everyone, including himself. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

Rating: Explicit? IDK. There’s masturbation in it.

Warning: Kurt has shaming attitudes toward masturbation, but Blaine doesn’t and holds his own. Unintended overhearing of masturbation, which could be considered a violation of boundaries.

Kurt couldn't have been sleeping long, because the sound that awakened him wasn't loud or unusual. It was just the soft creak of wooden bed slats as Elder Anderson turned over in bed.

Kurt couldn't see Elder Anderson’s outline very well. The moon wasn't out and no clouds were in the sky to reflect the light from the street lamps below their apartment windows. But he could hear Elder Anderson’s raspy exhalations—not quite snores, but louder and more irregular than daytime breathing. Kurt focused on them, hoping that concentrating on his companion’s steady breaths would help him fall back asleep.

Except … there was something odd about the way Elder Anderson was breathing. Irregular. It sped up and slowed down, then sped up again. It would go from heavy and raspy too absolutely silent and then back again, but stronger now, almost panting, and then a stifled groan, and another creak of the bed slats, and the rustle of sheets, and Kurt was tingling all over, and—

No. No. This could not be happening. Elder Anderson could not be doing that in the bed next to Kurt’s. Kurt was imagining things, sleep deprived. Elder Anderson was having a nightmare. That's why he was breathing funny, and tossing and turning, and making those weird, stifled grunts that could indicate pain as much as pleasure.

And Kurt almost convinced himself of that. Because it was a perfectly reasonable hypothesis. Elder Thompson had been a sleepwalker, and Elder Saint James talked in his sleep almost as much as in his waking hours. And every missionary ever was a restless sleeper once in a while.

Only, not every missionary whispered, “Oh, oh,” in stifled staccato breaths as the sheets shuffled faster and faster over his body.

And Kurt should not be staring in Elder Anderson's direction, but it wasn't his fault, he hadn't even been able to see anything when he’d first woken up. Kurt wasn’t a voyeur. But whether it was his eyes adjusting or his brain taking sound and interpreting it as sight, he could see now: Elder Anderson lying on his back, one hand slipped beneath his garment top, moving beneath the fabric in slow circles over his chest, and the other hidden by a single sheet pulled over his waist, tenting the cloth at the exact place Kurt would expect it to be tented if his companion was doing unspeakable things to himself right at this very moment. And the sheet—it was moving, too, up and down, up and down, and Elder Anderson’s breaths were growing more and more ragged, and this should not be turning Kurt on, he should not be getting hard, it was sinful and depraved and—

Kurt needed to cough or yawn or pretend to talk in his sleep, something to startle Elder Anderson into stopping. He could turn over loudly in bed. But he didn’t do any of these things.

Elder Anderson's breathing became simultaneously more quiet and more intense with each second, until it stopped completely and his hands went still and his body stiffened and Kurt swore he could see the contortions of pleasure on his face—no, wait, Kurt was imagining that part, it was too dark to see anything more than the outline of Elder Anderson’s jaw and his open mouth, but still Kurt could see it clear as day—the squinting eyes and the flushed cheeks and the pick panting tongue—and he really shouldn't be imagining it, shouldn't be picturing what Elder Anderson's face looked like when he was in that vulnerable, elated, shameful state.

Elder Anderson stifled himself, made a choked-off sound that was strangely gorgeous and made Kurt feel things in his heart as much as in his penis—and maybe that was the worst part, the way Kurt’s heart was pounding not at the thought of being gratified himself, but at the thought of what it would be like to gratify Elder Anderson, to make him feel warm and comforted and at peace, to watch him as he peaked and then went limp, how he would look Kurt in the eye and know that Kurt adored him.

Elder Anderson relaxed into the mattress, the hand that had been under his shirt falling limply to his side. He let it rest there for a few moments before reaching over to grab some tissues from his nightstand and do what Kurt could only assume was a perfunctory cleanup. Which should turn Kurt on even less—he'd never been a big fan of any kind of bodily secretion—but the idea of Elder Anderson’s most private thing all curled up and weary and spent gave Kurt a pleasant thrum all through his body.

*

Kurt felt anything but pleasant when he woke up the next morning before sunrise and Elder Anderson. It was only 4 a.m., but it was futile to try to get back to sleep. Kurt kept replaying things over in his head without meaning to, and the ache in his heart grew bigger, and so did his shame and anger.

Kurt spent the next ninety minutes in their tiny living room, lifting weights and going through every resistance exercise he could think of, trying to burn off all the energy that wanted to come out from where it shouldn't.

It seemed to help. By the time he was done, he felt so exhausted, he collapsed on the couch and closed his eyes, thinking maybe he could fall asleep for a few minutes. But just as he approached the border of sleep, the image of Elder Anderson’s ecstatic face transpired in his mind and he awoke in a cold sweat.

*

“Did you sleep badly last night?” Elder Anderson said when he walked into the kitchen. “You were up before the alarm.”

Kurt glared up at him from his bowl of cold cereal. “What do you think?”

Elder Anderson looked startled, a deer in headlights. Kurt could see him actively trying to regain his composure as he pulled up a chair across from Kurt and sat down. “I think you slept badly last night,” he said gently.

Ugh. Elder Anderson was so annoying. Always being so patient, never wanting to fight. “Well, duh.”

“Okay, then. I'm going to make myself some breakfast. Do you want anything?” Elder Anderson stood up from the table and went over to the refrigerator. He pulled out a package of Wurst.

Kurt scoffed.

“Um … Did I do something to offend you?”

“I was just thinking how appropriate it was that you would you choose a big fat sausage for your breakfast this morning.”

Elder Anderson scrunched his eyebrows in what Kurt took to be confusion. “There's enough to share. If you think I've been hogging them, we can get an extra package next time we go grocery shopping.”

“I'm fine. Apparently I don't have the same need to constantly play with my Wurst that you do.”

“Oh.” Elder Anderson’s expression froze as if he had just seen a ghost, and his face went so pale he almost looked like one.

“You said that last night, too.” Kurt shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth to keep himself from adding anything else. He didn't want to diffuse the impact.

“I … I’m so sorry. I thought you were asleep.” Elder Anderson dropped the Wurst on the counter, the way he should have dropped it last night.

“I was. Until you woke me up.”

Elder Anderson looked somewhere just over kurt's shoulder. His coloring went from pale khaki to crimson. “I'm sorry. I considered getting out of bed and going into the bathroom, but that door is so loud and the light going on and off … I was so worried that would wake you. I mean, it doesn’t make things better …” He let out a frustrated huff.

Wait. Did that mean last night hadn’t been Elder Anderson's first time doing that under their roof? He just usually did it in the bathroom instead? (And why did Kurt's mind have to immediately jump to wondering whether Elder Anderson did it in the shower or in front of the mirror, into the bathroom sink?) “You could have done nothing. And that's not what the bathroom’s for, either,” Kurt said.

“Elder Hummel—”

“Or anywhere.”

Elder Anderson sunk down in his seat across from Kurt again. “Elder Hummel, I'm really, really sorry. Mortified. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me because what I did was beyond inconsiderate. I was too focused on my own stuff. I should have figured out another way to get to sleep. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight—”

“That’s an understatement.”

“—and there's no way I can justify it. I mean, I didn't intend to do harm, but clearly I did. All I was thinking about was getting myself to sleep and then I ruined yours.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Then why did you do it in the first place?” Kurt stared at Elder Anderson, daring him to answer.

“Elder Hummel, I’m not going to answer that.”

“No, really. I want to know. Because of all the missionaries I’ve worked with, you’re the best. When we work together, I feel the presence of the Holy Ghost like I’ve never felt before. And I don’t understand how someone who has such an awareness of the Spirit would risk it all for a moment of pleasure.”

Elder Anderson didn’t answer. He looked at the table and blinked too rapidly, and that annoyed Kurt because maybe it meant he’d pushed Blaine to the verge of crying, and if Blaine actually cried he would feel terrible.

Kurt softened his tone. “You need to repent and ask Heavenly Father for forgiveness. And maybe you should talk to the mission president about your problem, too. Get some guidance from him. Breaking the law of chastity is serious.”

“I’m not— Is that what you think?” Elder Anderson looked up at Kurt. His eyes were shining, but the expression—it was hurt as much as sadness.

Kurt felt like someone had just stabbed him between the ribs. “I know it hurts to be corrected. But yes.”

Blaine shook his head. “No, I mean about the law of chastity. Because masturbation—yes, it should definitely be done in private and I now know I shouldn’t assume anyone’s asleep or that I’m as quiet as I think, but— It’s not against the law of chastity. The law of chastity is about saving yourself for your eternal companion. Not giving your body away to people who won’t respect it. It’s not about being an ascetic, or a monk.”

“You’re not respecting other people when you entertain lustful thoughts about them.”

“But I don’t. I don't think lustful thoughts when I’m doing it. I don’t think about girls at all.”

Kurt quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at his companion.

“I don’t! There’s a difference between taking care of a physical need and inflaming lust. I mean, it's got to come out one way or another, and we can only do laundry once a week, so I'd rather it come out when I'm awake.”

“You could buy an extra sheet.”

“Look, Elder Hummel. I am really, really sorry that I woke you up last night and exposed you to … well, whatever you saw.”

“More like heard.”

Elder Anderson’s cheeks turned a flattering shade of pink, and he looked down at the table and blinked like some innocent, easily scandalized lamb. “Again. I’m sorry. And I want to make it right. If that's even possible. So I want you to think about how I can do that, OK?”

Kurt gave Elder Anderson a begrudging nod.

“And I want to hear you out about your interpretation of the law of chastity. Maybe you have some points I haven't considered. But I also want you to understand that I'm not trying to flout the church’s teachings. As far as I've always understood it, and priesthood holders I respect have explained it, masturbation isn't a violation of the law of chastity, and it's not even a sin unless you do it lustfully, or do it so much that you start to neglect your spiritual development and your obligations to others and the church. And in that sense—what I did last night was a sin. Because I violated your trust. I violated my obligation to you to create a home in which you feel safe. And by interfering with your sleep, I’ve interfered with your ability to focus on the work.” Elder Anderson looked so sincere as he spoke, and so sympathetic, and so contrite. He was making it difficult to stay furious at him.

Kurt wasn’t ready to make peace, but maybe he could ease the tension. “Now, Elder Anderson, that last part's an unfair assessment,” he said haughtily. “I have laser focus. Feel guilty as you want about the rest of it, but don't think I’ll let a little adversity distract me from my mission.”

Elder Anderson chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply that, Elder Hummel. You are the most dedicated missionary I've ever met. And I admire that about you. A lot.” He looked straight at Kurt when he said it, his eyes soft and the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

Kurt didn't look away.

[wowbright]

I Close My Eyes at Night

Summary: Blaine has found himself feeling more aroused than usual.

Words: ~2600 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title and inspiration from the Day 9 prompt song, How Sweet It Is by Marvin Gaye and also performed by James Taylor, particularly the line I close my eyes at night wondering where would I be without you in my life.

Notes: This is a mirror fic to Lock the Door and Turn the Lights Down Low, which should be read first. Part of the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany. Kurt is out as gay, and Blaine is closeted to everyone, including himself. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

Rating: Explicit (masturbation)

Blaine knew he was lucky. He felt bad sometimes for things he’d done, but it never grew into the shame that plagued so many of the missionaries he'd met in the training center and while serving in Germany. He could tell the difference between doing a bad thing and being a bad person.

“No need to sulk about it,” his mom used to say. “Christ has already redeemed you. All you need to do is accept that gift and do better next time.”

“But my seminary teacher says every sin we commit adds to Christ’s suffering at Gethsemane,” he responded one time early in high school. He'd gotten into a fight with Sam over Sam’s new friend Joe, and Blaine had called Joe a “Jesus hippie” and Sam an “airhead so stupid you can’t see he’s just using you, he’s just trying to suck you into his weird hippie cult and notch another soul on the barrel of his rifle for the Lord,” and while the first insult rolled right off of Sam's back, the second one made Sam turn pink right to the tips of his ears. “Say that again,” Sam had said, and Blaine had said, “He’s using you, he thinks you’re going to hell if you don’t join his church, and you don’t even care, you don’t even care about your own worth,” and he wasn't sure if he was the first one to start the shoving match, but they both got sent to the principal’s office and put into detention for the rest of the week.

If Blaine had ever come close to feeling shame, that was it. What had possessed him to call Sam stupid? It was one thing to question Sam's judgment, but another thing entirely to accuse him of being fundamentally flawed. It was disrespectful to Sam and it was disrespectful to the Heavenly Parents who had made him into the sweet, slightly gullible kid Blaine loved.

And then to think that he’d added to Christ’s pain—

“No. You can’t think that way,” his mother said. “Christ took the atonement on willingly, because he knew that all of us would sin and all of us would need redemption. He didn’t expect us to be perfect. He did it because he loves us so much that he wants us to live with him in heaven, even though we’re not perfect and don’t deserve to on our own. He decided to pay that price.”

“But—”

“It’s like a mother giving birth, Blaine. It's painful, but it’s a mother’s choice to go through that. Because she wants to share her life with her child. No one blames it on the baby. Do you feel guilty about being born?”

Blaine had heard plenty of stories about his mom's twenty-six hour labor, how the doctors thought she was going to die at one point, how the room got so crowded with hospital staff that his dad couldn’t get in to give her a blessing.

And even so, it was all worth it, his mother always said, to have a son as loving as Blaine.

“No,” he said. “But I wish it had been easier.”

“And that’s fine. It's good that you wish Christ didn't have to suffer for you. But he made that choice. He did it to free you from guilt and shame, not to add to it. Because he loves you.”

His mother was right, of course. What was the point of the gospel but to lead us to an understanding of the love of God? You couldn't feel love if you felt ashamed. You couldn't grow and change if you felt that you were fundamentally flawed.

That didn't mean Blaine never felt embarrassment or regret. He felt those things a lot. Blaine was someone who operated on instinct, who didn't always think the consequences of his actions through and, when he did, was terrible at predicting the outcome.

Like that regrettable evening when he'd indulged himself in bed, thinking Elder Hummel was asleep.

He was not.

Unlike missionaries who swore their sexual desires disappeared while they were on their missions, Blaine hadn’t been blessed in that particular way. He’d received a partial blessing—he didn't develop crushes on girls or have lustful thoughts about the women he met—but that was more an extension of the blessing he'd always been gifted with, not something new that had occurred on his mission.

The other thing that was the same as before his mission? Blaine didn't need to have sinful thoughts in order for his body to have its own desires.

And it had gotten more intense lately. For most of his mission, Blaine only felt the urge to masturbate every couple weeks, and as often as not it was done more out of a desire to avoid accidents in the night than it was out of any kind of arousal.

But lately, his desire had become more insistent. It usually struck him hardest at night when it was time to fall asleep, after he and Elder Hummel had shared a goodnight prayer and a warm hug before each retiring to their beds. Blaine would gaze out the skylight at the stars, listening to the comforting rhythm of Elder Hummel’s breathing, and filled with a wonderful sense of peace that grew with each breath. There was something so right about sharing his life with Elder Hummel, like Blaine had lost a piece of himself on the day he was born and it had been with Elder Hummel all along. He’d told Elder Hummel that he thought they'd been friends in the preexistence, but it was more than that. They had been the closest kind of friends, the kind of friends who needed each other to become their best selves, whose love brought them closer to God and salvation. Like the brothers and sisters in Saturday’s Warrior, they knew they would face challenges in the mortal life, and they had promised to find each other so they could help each other through it.

Every day only confirmed Blaine’s suspicions that he and Elder Hummel had been foreordained to meet in this life. Blaine felt the Spirit's presence like he'd never felt before on his mission—had never felt at all, except for fleeting moments here and there, like when a rainbow formed over the desert or that one time a hummingbird perched on his windowsill for five whole seconds before flying off again. Now, it was with him almost constantly, an undercurrent of tranquility that connected each moment to the next. And that was because of Elder Hummel—his strength in the gospel, his discipline, his talents, and the deep well of love that he tried to keep hidden but spilled out constantly with each look and deed and word.

And yet somehow, in the midst of these elevated thoughts, Blaine would feel his member awake. Sometimes it was a soft urging, easily ignored. But other times it was more insistent, calling to him, reminding Blaine that he was not just a soul but a body, and that his body was an eternal part of who he was—something that existed now and would exist in heaven, too—and therefore was something to be celebrated, nurtured, and not disregarded.

The first few times it happened, Blaine had dealt with it the way he’d often done on his mission—gone to the bathroom, locked the door, and stood in front of the sink, twisting the cold water handle on and off intermittently to disguise any sounds and, later, to wash his release down the sink. He didn’t fantasize about sex. He focused on the physical feelings and the blessing of having a body, while the occasional memory flitted through his mind—always something emotional but innocuous, like some joke shared earlier in the day with Kurt or the feeling of warmth that filled his chest when they prayed together—but never profane images or lustful thoughts. The closest it ever came to that was when Blaine would look down at his moving hand and wonder what it would be like someday when that was his eternal companion’s hand on him, arousing and sating his desires. But it was nothing close to explicit—no images of a specific person came to mind—and it was the idea of an eternal companion that aroused him as much as the idea of sexual touch. God had given him these urges to prepare him for that everlasting bond, to nurture a longing for the intimate companionship that would help him achieve exaltation. Inside that union, sex would be a sacred thing, uniting him to his beloved physically and spiritually for all time, heightening their love for each other and God. And how incredible that love would be, for it would have to be even deeper than the platonic love he now felt for Kurt.

It was amid such thoughts that Blaine would climax, with an intensity he'd rarely felt earlier on his mission. He had to bite his bottom lip half the time just to keep from crying out. Once, he felt tears of mingled gratitude and relief pushing against his eyelids as he came.

He’d collapse against the sink, his muscles losing all their tension, and work to recover his breath, silently praying to Heavenly Father his thanks for giving him a body that could feel pleasure as well as pain, for guarding him from sinful thoughts, and for giving him a release valve that helped him preserve himself for his eternal companion.

So, no. Unlike Elder Hummel and his middle school bishop, Blaine did not think masturbation was a sin. It was a gift to be treasured.

The problem was in the logistics. Elder Hummel was as high-strung as a recently rescued cat, always on high alert, even in his sleep. The very act of Blaine getting out of bed tended to wake him. When compounded by the flash of the hall light and the opening and closing of doors, it was almost a surefire method to interfere with Elder Hummel’s sleep.

So Blaine had to stop his midnight forays into the bathroom.

He was successful for about a week. If the arousal came to him, he prayed to Heavenly Father, thanking him for his body and the procreative urge, but asking for relief from it until he could engage in it without disturbing his companion. And then he would review German declensions and do sums in German and try to remember the German words to his favorite hymns until he finally fell asleep.

But then came a night when none of it worked. His prayers, his grammar exercises, his mental review of scripture—still the desire thrummed through his body. Blaine opened his eyes to trace constellations through the skylight, but he started to remember the love stories he'd read about the stars—how Perseus conquered a sea monster because of his love for Andromeda, how Altair and Vega loved each other despite their parents’ condemnation, how Orpheus’s love for Eurydice was so strong he followed her into the Underworld.

Thinking of love made Blaine ache even more.

Blaine turned to look at Elder Hummel. It was dark in the room, but he could see that Elder Hummel was sleeping on his side, facing out into the room, the lines of his eyebrows and eyelashes visible against his pale skin. He was breathing softly, steadily through slightly parted lips, completely lost in the peace of sleep. If Blaine focused on him, timed his breaths with those of his sleeping companion and thought about virtuous things like their brotherly love, and Elder Hummel’s patience and loving kindness, and how familiar and homey it felt when they ate together and read scripture together and prayed together, just like it should feel in a family, and the warmth that filled Blaine’s chest every time Elder Hummel smiled at him—if he thought on these things, he should be able to fall asleep, too.

But it didn't work for some reason. Blaine's arousal continued to grow. His member was as inflamed as he could ever remember it being without touching. He felt his own lubrication beginning to leak from the tip.

It was a bad sign. Even if Blaine could fall asleep now, he was sure to awake in the middle of the night with damp clothes and stained sheets. And what was he supposed to do then? He only had so many pairs of garments, and this was his only set of sheets, and it wasn't like they had a washer in their apartment that he could just throw everything in once it was soiled. He'd have to inconvenience Kurt by requesting an emergency trip to the laundromat, which would interfere with their proselytizing schedule, or he’d have to shove it all in a bag until their next trip scheduled trip to the laundromat, by which time the stains would have set in.

Blaine made one last stab at willing himself to sleep. He closed his eyes, focused again on his companion’s breath for several minutes.

But it was hopeless. He wanted.

Blaine reached into his shorts. The relief he felt at the contact was almost instant. It was okay. Elder Hummel was asleep. And it wouldn't take long. Not with how aroused Blaine was.

Blaine shoved his shorts down around his knees. The bed creaked. Blaine glanced over at Kurt to see if the sound had awakened him, but he was still curled up on his side, his hand resting peacefully above his top sheet, his long fingers flexing with his sleeping breaths.

Blaine suppressed a moan. He'd unconsciously begun moving his hand while checking on his companion, sending shocks of sensation up his spine and down through his thighs. Wow, it felt good. Felt good to have a body, felt good to be in this bedroom where he was safe and loved, felt good to know he was so close to release, that it would be quick and blissful and over and Elder Hummel would get his full night’s sleep without being woken by Blaine bumping into bed frames or shutting doors, and Blaine had to be careful, so, so careful, had to close his eyes and concentrate, to listen to his own breaths and regulate them, not let them get heavy or loud, had to be careful not to thrust his hips or cry out even though it felt good, so good, as good as Blaine could ever remember, maybe even better, and if he was very very careful and very quiet he could hear Kurt’s steady breathing, reminding Blaine that he was here in this room in Germany under the night stars and they had bodies, they both had bodies, and their bodies were gifts from God, and—

Blaine moved his hand to catch his release before it could hit the sheet above him. It deflected back onto his belly, tangling into the hairs there. Blaine didn't want to move, ever. He felt like a fledgling bird who had taken its first flight, ecstatic and exhausted.

But he had to do something about the mess on his belly. He reached toward the night stand, grabbing a clump of tissues from the box as quietly as he could. Elder Hummel hadn't moved, except for his fingers, which had curled into a fist. But his eyes were closed and his breaths were those same, steady breaths.

Blaine’s heart warmed at the sight of Elder Hummel at peace.

[wowbright]

My Way Home

Summary: Blaine is romantic even when he doesn’t mean to be.

Words: ~1000

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. The title is taken from the Day Three prompt song, I Knew I Loved You by Mateo Oxley, and the vignette is inspired by the line I knew I loved you before I met you.

Notes: This story takes place in the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany and they’ve temporarily adopted a lost cat. Kurt is out as gay, and Blaine is closeted to everyone, including himself. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

Rating: Teen and up

“I missed you, Spinnenkatze,” Kurt said as he walked into the apartment to be greeted by the strange little gray ball of fur who'd wedged herself into their lives. He was already bending down to scritch under her chin before the meaning of his own words dawned on him. “Oh my gosh. Did I actually say that?”

“Say what?” Elder Anderson squatted on the floor to join in the pet fest.

“That I missed her. We've known this cat for less than 24 hours.”

Spinnenkatze plopped to the floor and wiggled around like a worm before presenting her stomach for rubs. Elder Anderson took the bait, stroking her chest with one hand and behind her ears with the other. “I guess you fell in love at first sight.”

Kurt rolled his eyes for no one's benefit but his own. Elder Anderson's were absorbed in the adorable antics of their new feline friend. “I’m not in love with a cat,” Kurt insisted. “Anyway, it was terror at first sight.”

“Not romantic love. Familial love. The way parents talk about being in love with their babies.” As if to illustrate, Elder Anderson begin cooing in response to Spinnenkatze’s purrs.

“Spinney isn't my baby.” The cat’s ears perked as if she knew they were talking about her. She flipped over onto her paws and turned to Kurt, butting her head insistently against his hand until he gave in and plopped down onto the floor next to Elder Anderson, showering her with pets.

“Just admit it, Elder Hummel. There was a cat-sized hole in your heart before she came into our lives. It's like when you meet an old friend from the preexistence for the first time.” The preexistence was a time when everyone lived with God before they were born. “You look at them and realize that you loved them before you even met them. Because you did meet them before. Back when you were living with God.”

“I'm not sure they had cats in the preexistence.”

“I’m not sure they didn’t.”

Kurt lost himself in petting Spinnenkatze for a few moments. Her fur was so fluffy, softer and finer than human hair. Even softer than Elder Anderson’s hair. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy combing his fingers through Elder Anderson's just as much. “Have you had that happen to you?” Kurt said.

“Had what happen?”

“Sorry. Just what you said earlier. About meeting someone and feeling like you knew them in the preexistence?” Kurt’s heart sped up. It was a stupid question to ask. He shouldn't be thinking about touching Elder Anderson’s hair or about love at first sight or about meeting someone and knowing that you loved them before you even met them. Elder Anderson was his companion. His straight companion. His closest friend. Kurt couldn't do what he’d done with Finn and try to turn an innocent friendship into something else.

“I get that feeling every time I meet a cat,” Elder Anderson said, placing his hand near Kurt’s as he rubbed the base of Spinnenkatze’s spine.

Kurt smirked. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“I’m rather predictable in some ways.” Elder Anderson gave Kurt an amused smile.

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” Elder Anderson’s expression went thoughtful, his eyes lost in the movements of his hand in Spinnenkatze’s fur. “With people, I don't think I feel it immediately. Or, I feel it immediately, but I don't know what it is until later. Like, Tina, I barely remember meeting her because we were so little then, but I'm sure we must have known each other in the preexistence. I mean, she's practically my sister.”

Kurt's heart clenched. He hated when Blaine talked about Tina. It was stupid, pointless jealousy, and probably also unfounded given that Blaine consistently described her as his sister, but still. It wasn’t like people couldn’t have a crush on someone who was practically a sibling. Kurt’s dumb old crush on Finn had been proof of that.

“And don’t you think—” Elder Anderson started, but stopped himself before finishing his sentence.

“Don't I think what?”

“Sorry, it wasn't really a question. I was just thinking. Everything is so easy with you. I don’t mean the mission. I mean our companionship. Living with you. Being with you.” Elder Anderson lifted his hands away from Spinnenkatze and folded them in his lap, which Thank God, because otherwise Kurt might have done something stupid like inching his hand closer to Elder Anderson’s, trying to link their pinky fingers together or something else inadvisably bordering on romantic.

“I’ve never been someone who felt excluded or misunderstood,” Elder Anderson continued. “But I guess I never felt particularly understood, either. But with you, I feel understood. And that's nice. So maybe … No, not maybe. I definitely think we knew each other in the preexistence. And it’s okay If you don't think in those terms. I know we're not really supposed to dwell on what's on the other side of the veil anyway. But I feel too comfortable with you to understand it any other way.”

How had Kurt ever been impressed with Chandler’s silly attempts at flirting when Elder Anderson said stuff like that? Kurt’s heartbeat skittered nervously up and down his rib cage. Elder Anderson was going to be the death of him. He picked up Spinnenkatze and plopped her into his lap, burying his face into her fur so Elder Anderson couldn’t see the conflicting emotions there. Kurt didn’t want to speak, but he had to. “I feel like you get me, too,” he said. Maybe Blaine didn’t get that Kurt was head-over-heels for him, but he got the rest. Kurt had never expected to find that anywhere.

If Kurt did ever decide to stray from the church so he could be with someone he loved, he wasn't going to do it over some guy who made ridiculous puns. He was going to do it for some guy who made him feel the way Elder Anderson made him feel.

[wowbright]

Clues I Didn’t See

Summary: Blaine is gay. Like really, really gay. (Maybe it's a little inconvenient that he figures this out while serving as a Mormon missionary.)

Words: ~1900

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. The title is taken from the Day One prompt song, Invisible String by Taylor Swift.

Notes: This story takes place directly after Whatsoever Thy Soul Desireth in the Mormon!Klaine verse. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info.

Rating: Sexual content, but not super explicit

More clues Blaine had never seen before, had refused to see, bubbled to the surface.

Everything with Kurt, of course. The way Blaine sometimes forgot to breathe when Kurt walked into the room. The way Kurt’s smile made him feel like he'd earned a guaranteed pass to the Celestial Kingdom. The way he was drawn to Kurt, always wanting to be close—how sometimes when he was sitting next to Kurt he felt like he had to reach for Kurt’s hand, that to resist the pull was as pointless as a magnet trying to keep its distance from a piece of steel. The way it felt to be held in Kurt's arms, warm and solid and safe. The way he constantly wanted to kiss Kurt, how he had kissed Kurt without meaning to, without knowing what his lips were doing until they were on Kurt’s cheek, right at home.

But it wasn't just Kurt. Blaine was in love with Kurt, yes. He wanted Kurt. The images of what he wanted to do with Kurt were nebulous and foggy like in the Bible story of Jonathan and David. But also like in the Bible story, the rough outlines were there. Clothes coming off. Kissing and kissing and more kissing. Promises—to love and cherish, to prize this man over all other men and women.

But on its own, that wouldn't be enough for Blaine to call himself gay. Being gay was a whole different thing. It meant being attracted to men, to masculinity—not just one single man. It meant not feeling those same things toward women.

All his life, Blaine had thought he was straight. But he was wrong. He’d misread the clues.

There was that uncomfortable afternoon in high school watching old sets from So You Think You Can Dance with a bunch of kids from the ward, because Mormons really kicked butt on that show. Well, not all of it had been uncomfortable. A lot of it had been nice. Heidi Groskreutz and Lacey Schwimmer and Chelsie Hightower had amazing footwork, which he watched in rapt attention, tracking each step and imagining the movements flowing through his own toes so he could remember bits and pieces of their routines for later. He didn't have their grace or their athleticism, but maybe he could someday, if he practiced enough. A girl he was in show choir with sat next to him on the couch, and they held hands and chattered back and forth about little flourishes they wanted to work into their routines, and whether something like the flounces on so-and-so's dress could be worked into the outfits for the next show choir competition.

That part had been pleasant enough. The uncomfortable part happened whenever Benji Schwimmer danced. Blaine meant to focus on the footwork like he did with the ladies, but he kept getting distracted. Benji’s thighs were muscular and his hips were swaying and his butt was mesmerizing. Blaine could not take his eyes off that man. The way he moved was intoxicating. Blaine felt like electricity was running through his body, over his skin, making all his hair stand on end.

His hair was not the only thing standing. Down in his pants, the part of his body he tried to avoid thinking about was at full attention.

He was sitting too close to his friend, Blaine told himself. The outside of their thighs were touching and they were holding hands. Benji Schwimmer was a good looking man and a great dancer, but the feelings Blaine was having couldn't be caused by him, because Blaine wasn't into guys. He liked girls. He thought they were pretty. He liked how expressively they dressed, in clothes that came in more colors and shapes than guys’ clothes, in cuts that flattered the figures God had given them. He liked talking to them. They tended to be more verbose than his guy friends, and the words came out more easily, And because they spoke more easily, they were easier to talk to. He felt he could say things to girls that he couldn't say to guys, express parts of himself that he might otherwise hide. He loved going on dates, which gave him a chance to hold hands and cuddle a little—the chaste intimacy of those little touches. It felt nice to kiss them, too, because that was another way to be close, and if the kisses never got passionate or involved tongue, it was because he was a good Mormon boy.

Blaine let go of his friend’s hand and scooted over an inch or so to let some air circulate between them. He crossed his legs. He prayed for his erection to go away until the Holy Ghost pointed out to him that thinking about his erection was only going to make it last longer. He studied the pattern on the carpet and took deep breaths and when his friend got up and offered to bring him a Sprite, he was eternally grateful, because maybe if she wasn't sitting there and he kept staring at the rug, it would all go away.

But later at home, when Blaine touched himself (and he couldn’t remember if it was the same day or sometime in the weeks that followed, if it had happened once or over and over again), he wasn't thinking of his girlfriend from show choir. He was thinking about Benji Schwimmer, and thinking that it wasn't sexual or romantic because he didn't imagine kissing him or hugging him or touching him. He pictured him dancing.

Surely, it was just a random visual backdrop for the feelings coursing through his body, right? Or maybe Blaine aspired to have a body as strong and talented as Benji’s, and touching himself put him in touch with the power that already existed in his own body and could be perfected with patience and commitment. It wasn't about sex at all, really, because caring for one’s body enough to make it beautiful and strong is a sacred act. God gave us our bodies and has one himself, and striving toward a perfected body is striving toward the godhood we all can achieve in the end.

At least, that's how Blaine reasoned it out at the time. Looking back on it, though? It was definitely about sex.

It wasn't just Benji Schwimmer. It was Kurt, Tom Hardy, Jeremiah, even that creepy Sebastian—thinking about attractive guys made Blaine hard. It made him come.

How had he never realized that was gay?

Sebastian. Sebastian had made things confusing for a while. He was handsome, and he’d made it clear he was interested in Blaine. He flirted and leered and had lots of cheesy pick-up lines, some more school-appropriate than others. Blaine felt a sort of rush when he caught Sebastian staring at his butt, or when Sebastian flicked his eyes down from Blaine's bowtie to his nether regions and back up again.

The rush Blaine got from Sebastian eyeing him wasn't that much different than the rush Blaine got when he was on stage. He loved it when everyone's eyes were on him, when they were smiling and clapping and bopping their heads because of him. He loved feeding off the energy of an audience and giving it back to them, ten times bigger.

But Sebastian was also … gross. In one of their very first interactions, Sebastian had asked him, “Is it true you Mormon boys don’t masturbate? I could give you a hand with your … frustration.”

Blaine didn't want to go out on dates with Sebastian. He tried to imagine it—going to a restaurant together, giving each other flowers, holding hands in the dark privacy of a movie theater, kissing under the bleachers. But his mind couldn't go there. Blaine had a pretty good imagination, but every time he tried to picture doing something romantic with Sebastian, he ran into a mental block. The closest thing to a romantic image Blaine had ever been able to picture flashed into his head one night when he was in the shower, close to coming.

They’d been in dress rehearsals late into the evening, and Sebastian had been relentless. Between scenes, during costume changes and snack breaks, Sebastian’s eyes had been glued to Blaine's body. He could feel them even when he wasn't looking in Sebastian's direction. And Sebastian confirmed as much every time he came near. “You know you want to,” he whispered. “You don’t have to tell your bishop if there’s no penetration.”

Blaine had managed to mostly forget all of this as he stroked himself. He’d started because it felt good when he’d soaped up under there, and he was too exhausted from rehearsal to resist. Plus, he wanted to exhaust himself more so he could ensure a good night's sleep.

He focused on the feel of skin touching skin, on the water pounding against his back. He let his mind go blank. If his mind was blank and he wasn't thinking about girls, he wasn't being lustful, and if he wasn't being lustful, touching himself wasn't a sin.

But Blaine’s mind forgot to stay blank as he became more and more aroused. He heard Sebastian’s voice: You don’t have to tell your bishop if there’s no penetration. Which, factually, wasn't true at all, but also—what counted is penetration between two guys?

It was a fatal question. An image flashed into his brain: Sebastian on his knees, his mouth around Blaine's penis.

Blaine came.

It wasn’t fair. Blaine hadn’t meant to see that. The image hadn’t made him come; it just happened to pop into his mind at the moment he was about to. And anyway, it couldn’t mean he was gay. As far as Blaine could gather from the Gentile chatter in the locker room, guys liked blow jobs, and it didn’t really matter whose mouth was involved. Blaine pictured Sebastian because he was too polite and respectful to picture a girl. It would have been sinful to view someone's future wife that way. It would have demeaned and degraded her. But Sebastian wouldn’t have been offended. He would have been thrilled. So Blaine was just being considerate. He was sure he would have rather it be a girl in that position—within the confines of marriage of course, and only if she wanted to—because if Blaine was gay, he would fantasize about kissing Sebastian, and Blaine would be the one on his knees.

“Blaine Anderson, you are an idiot.” Blaine slumped forward and banged his forehead into the open pages of his Bible. How had he missed all these clues? They weren't even clues. They were sirens blaring in the night, too loud and bright to miss. And yet, somehow, he had failed to see them. Refused to see them. He’d convinced himself so fully that he was a nice straight Mormon boy who was going to live a nice straight Mormon life and fulfill the nice straight Mormon plan of happiness that he’d become blind to his own heart.

He felt ashamed—not for being gay, not for loving Kurt (never for that)—but for not being able to see it..

Well, the scales were gone from his eyes now. Blaine could see clearly for the first time.

[wowbright]

Fic: Grow As We Go

Summary: Kurt suspects that Blaine is planning a marriage proposal. He talks it over with his dad.

Words: ~1500 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title and inspiration from the Day 8 prompt song, Grow As We Go by Ben Platt.

Notes: Part of the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine fall in love while serving as missionaries in Germany. This vignette takes place after they are both back from their mission. See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

More notes: Blaine doesn’t actually show up in this scene, although he’s a huge part of it anyway.

Rating: Teen and up

“You're folding the custard into the egg whites. Don't you need to do it the other way around?”

“I think I know how to make a souffle, Dad,” Kurt snapped. “I've only been doing it for years.”

“Okay, okay,” his dad said in a tone one might use with an agitated tiger while slowly backing up from it. “Just trying to pass something on that I learned from my teacher.”

“Who would that be, Rachel Ray?”

“No, dummy. You.”

Kurt frowned at the souffle batter. His dad was right. It was looking pretty flat. Kurt’s hadn't been paying attention to what he'd been doing. If he tried baking it like this, the “souffle” would come out with the texture of a leathery hockey puck. Maybe he could transform it into crepes, or add some flour and more butter and turn it into a cake? Though he didn't think he had the bandwidth right now to figure out the correct ratios. He let out a little groan and dropped the spatula into the bowl with a loud clunk.

“What's eating you, kid?” his dad said. “It's not just the souffle, is it? You've been glum all day.”

“I'm fine,” Kurt said, not looking up from the bowl because, if his dad saw his face, he would definitely know Kurt wasn't telling the truth.

“Yeah, right. I've seen fine and this ain't it.” His dad pulled a box of Oreos from the cupboard and a jug of milk from the refrigerator, setting them on the kitchen table. “Oreos aren't as classy as a chocolate souffle, but how about you have a little snack with me and tell me what's going on?”

“You shouldn't be eating Oreos,” Kurt said.

“I got them out for you. I'm eating potato chips.”

“Dad!”

“Cool down. I'm kidding. I'm going to have half an Oreo and you're going to have the rest. My nutritionist said a little indulgence here and there isn't a problem, I just have to moderate.”

“Fine.” Kurt sank into his usual chair while his dad got out glasses for the milk.

“Okay. So spill,” his dad said, sitting down across from Kurt.

Kurt looked out the window. It was sunny today, which he hadn't noticed before, and there were birds flitting around the feeder his parents kept out there—a couple yellow ones and a little cranberry-colored one with brown wings. “It’s Blaine,” he said.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No.” Kurt faced his dad. “I think he's going to ask me to marry him.”

“I thought you'd be happy about that. I mean, you’ve been designing wedding rings. And tuxes. And …”

“Wait. How do you know that?”

“Because you're sitting next to me on the couch while you're doing it.”

“I thought you were watching your football games.”

“I am. But when my team makes a really stupid play, I gotta look somewhere else.”

“Uh-huh. Right. Or maybe you're just a snoop.”

His dad evaded the accusation. “So what's the problem? You were planning a big proposal and now he's going to beat you to the punch?”

“No. I mean, yes, but ... Let's face it. Blaine's a lot better at grand gestures than I am. I won't be disappointed to see what he's been cooking up.”

“But …”

“The reality of it is starting to sink in. How much things are going to change.”

“Are we talking your relationship here, or are we talking about the church?”

“Both, I guess. But mostly the church.”

His dad reached across the table and set his hand on top of Kurt’s. “The ward loves you guys, Kurt. And the bishop knows your heart. He's not going to—”

“I'm thinking of resigning from the church, Dad.”

“You really wanna do that?”

“If I go out, I'm going out on my own terms. They're not going to excommunicate me.”

“But the bishop—”

“Won't be the bishop that much longer. We don't know who the new bishop will be or what he thinks about gays. Or the bishops in any of the wards we move into. If any of them decide they want to disfellowship or excommunicate us, Salt Lake would support them. You know that.”

His dad's nod of agreement was barely discernible. It clearly pained him to acknowledge it.

“And I think I'm ready to face that, Dad. It's not fair and I don't like it, but I accepted that these would be the consequences a long time ago. But I'm worried about Blaine. He rushes headlong into things without thinking them through first. I don't know if he's really thought about this. What it will be like not to be allowed to take the sacrament, not to be able to go to the temple ever again, not to give blessings—”

“Your mother would have had something to say about that.”

“Oh?”

“The blessing thing, at least. Don't you remember, she used to give you blessings? And obviously she wasn't a priest.”

“No, I—” Kurt searched his memory. He had foggy images of his mother’s hands on his head as she prayed over him, but it had never occurred to him that she was doing anything unorthodox. It was only natural for a mother to pray over a son. Whose mother wouldn't?

“I’m no church history expert, but as far as I’ve gathered, in the early days with Joseph Smith, you didn't have to have the priesthood to give a blessing. It was a gift of the spirit, not a key handed to you by your leaders. So women could give blessings, men without the priesthood could give blessings. I suppose even little kids could have, if they were guided to do it. Blessings aren’t some magic trick or mumbo jumbo that can only be performed by the initiated. Well, in her opinion at least, and in mine. They’re a gift of the Spirit.”

“Huh.”

“Sorry. Didn't mean to derail you. We were talking about Blaine.”

Kurt clenched his hand around his milk glass. Its coldness was soothing. “I don't know. It's the church stuff, and all the stress that could bring, and we're both so young. There's so much about life that I don't know, and he's even younger than me, and …”

“Not that much younger.”

“Yeah, but he hasn't been out as long. And he hasn't dated anyone but me.”

His dad’s eyebrows shot up in interest. “You dated someone other than Blaine? I don’t remember this.”

“No, but— But what if—?” Kurt stopped himself. It cut too close to the bone.

His dad looked across the table at him patiently, waiting for Kurt to finish his thought.

“What if I'm not enough for him? What if we're young and stupid and think we can make things work, but we can't?”

“Do you really believe that? That you're not enough for Blaine?”

Kurt shook his head. “No.”

“Kurt, big changes are always scary, even when they’re good things. I mean, I remember when you were born, and you were so small that most of your body fit in my two hands, and I was so terrified that I was going to mess things up, that I was going to hurt you, that I was going to do it all wrong. But that's what life is. You learn and grow by doing. I didn’t do it perfectly, but I did my best. And that’s how it was with your mom. We were about as young as you when we got married—and honestly, I would have been happy to marry her straight out of high school if it weren’t for her mission.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yeah. I proposed our senior year with the tinfoil ring and the whole nine yards. My mom just about had a cow. But your mom wasn’t ready. She wanted to go on her mission, and she couldn’t do that until she was twenty-one, so … we waited. And waiting was okay too. We still grew up together, first as girlfriend and boyfriend, then as husband and wife. And I don’t regret a single minute of it. Sure, we were stupid sometimes, and there was a lot we didn’t know and couldn’t have been ready for.” He took a nibble off his half-Oreo. “There’s nothing wrong with going it alone if that’s what God’s telling you to do. But he had a different plan for me. And that was to share my mistakes and sorrows and joys with your mom while we were still young.”

“So you think we should get married?”

“That’s not my choice to make, kid. What I’m saying is, do you think you’ll grow best with Blaine, or do you want to grow on your own? What’s the Spirit telling you?”

The question hung in the air over a long silence. Kurt knew the answer, but he wasn't ready to speak it out loud. And when he was ready to speak it, he wanted Blaine to be the first one to hear.

[wowbright]

Fic: Always

Summary: Blaine has a vision.

Words: ~1200 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title from the Day 7 prompt song, Always by Irving Berlin.

Notes: This story takes place in the Mormon!Klaine verse directly after Conversations in the Dark. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany. Kurt is out as gay, and Blaine is closeted to everyone, including himself (mostly). See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

More notes: Because @redheadgleek is terrible and I love her, the other song that comes up in this story is The Circle of Our Love by Lex de Azevedo. Here is the older version that Kurt and Blaine would be familiar with, since this vignette takes place circa 2014. Here's the newer version, which is probably more accessible to the average viewer/listener. 

Warnings: This vignette mentions aspects of the LDS temple ceremony—they’re vague to the point that a non-member who's been to a temple open house could have figured them out. It also includes a gay reinterpretation related to the temple sealings. Plus frank discussion of gay desire and missionaries breaking rules. If you are likely to be offended by such content, do not read this, do not message me, and go about your day. Thank you!

Rating: Very racy if you’re a Mormon. A wee bit racy for everyone else.

Blaine drifted on the edge of consciousness, vaguely aware of a comforting warmth surrounding him between sinking back into dreams. Or maybe it was just one dream, continuous throughout the night, waiting for him to return to it again and again.

Blaine was waiting at the veil to the Celestial Room of the temple, a sense of peace flowing through him. The veil was white and his clothes were white—not temple clothes, but a white morning suit—and everything was bright and lovely. He ran his hands over the buttons of his vest, making sure they were lined up properly. He adjusted his tie. He took a deep breath. Okay, he was ready. Ready as he was ever going to be. Ready as he had been his whole life, waiting for this moment to ripen into fruition.

He knocked on the veil. The voice that answered was familiar and comforting. The hand that reached through was his home. It pulled him through the veil into always.

Blaine woke up to find himself wrapped around Kurt, his cheek against Kurt's chest, his leg straddled over Kurt’s thighs, his hand curled around the hand that had been in his dream.

The peace of the dream grew with each of Kurt’s breaths against his scalp, with each beat of Kurt's heart against his ear. It was the peace that Blaine had heard of countless times in talks about the Holy Ghost, a peace that was given as a grace from God, a peace that Blaine had waited to feel all his life.

This is where I'm supposed to be, Blaine thought.

He lifted his head to look at Kurt's face. Kurt was still sleeping, his expression calm. The morning sun coming through the window lit his skin in soft oranges and pinks. Blaine felt that same impulse that had possessed him so many times the previous night. It had started after dinner, when they were walking the sisters to the bus stop, entertaining them with songs from very American Mormon musicals, and they’d slid into a duet from Saturday’s Warrior—

The circle of our love begins

With now and every promised dream.

In God's eternal plan, it goes forever.

—and Kurt had looked him in the eye and it hit Blaine like a sack of bricks: Kurt was the person he wanted to spend eternity with.

Blaine had wanted to kiss him then and the rest of the night. He couldn’t sleep for wanting to kiss Kurt, and though the pressure lifted a little when he moved his bed next to Kurt’s and held his hand—still, the impulse washed over him again and again. He wanted to press his lips against Kurt’s forehead, his cheek, his mouth. Against other parts of him, too.

Blaine wasn't stupid, though. He couldn't forget Kurt’s reaction the one time weeks ago when Blaine had given him a friendly peck on the cheek. And that kiss hadn't meant the things that a kiss now would—or if it had, Blaine didn't know it at the time. He'd meant that kiss as friendly, brotherly, but it had taken Kurt days to forgive him for it.

Which probably also meant that Blaine should untangle himself from Kurt's body before he awoke. Kurt might forgive groggy cuddles, but he wasn't likely to take a friendly view to the fact that Blaine was entirely in Kurt’s bed—an unquestionable violation of mission rules—or the growing erection between Blaine’s legs.

Kurt fussed and grabbed at Blaine unconsciously as he extricated himself, smacked his lips in a way that sounded a lot like dissatisfaction. Again, Blaine wished he could kiss him.

There was still an hour left before the alarm would go off. Blaine had planned to skip exercise this morning, because he'd planned to sleep in, but even with waking up early it didn't seem like a good idea. There weren't many exercises Blaine could do indoors without making a lot of noise, and he didn't want to go run on his own because that would be an unnecessary violation of the mission rules—though the more compelling reason was the thought of Kurt waking up and freaking out because he didn't know where Blaine had gone.

Which was too bad, because running might help with Blaine’s erection, which was refusing to go down. He tried to ignore it, reaching in the fridge to pull out ingredients for a nice breakfast. Kurt would be starving after the crying he’d done the previous night.

Blaine's hands moved mechanically through steps of making breakfast. His mind was elsewhere. It was on Kurt. He’d been so beautiful in his sleep this morning, and he'd been beautiful last night, too, with that smile that made Blaine feel like his sternum was turning into Jell-O, and that laugh that invited Blaine to share in it. Even crying, Kurt had been beautiful, because he'd gone somewhere he was afraid to go, had been so brave about it, had let himself be vulnerable and was willing to share that vulnerability with Blaine.

“I want to marry Kurt,” Blaine said to himself. It should have felt like a revelation, but it didn't. It felt like Blaine was being reminded of something he'd known all along.

Blaine loved Kurt. He’d thought it was the love of best friends. But if you lay awake at night thinking about kissing your best friend and dream of them pulling you through the veil like a groom pulls his bride, it's probably something else. If you get that same swoopy feeling that Kurt described last night in your stomach every time you look at him, then you're probably in love. And Blaine couldn’t freak out about it. He loved Kurt Hummel and wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, and that made him the luckiest person in the world.

As for what Kurt felt—it might not really matter, anyway. The church would always come first for Kurt. He'd made that abundantly clear throughout their time together. It was just like with Blaine's dad—no, no, that wasn't fair. His dad used the church to run away from life. With Kurt, the church brought him into the thick of things. Kurt’s passion for the gospel and for Christ made Kurt vibrant, alive. It was real and genuine and all-consuming, and it was one of the reasons Blaine loved him.

Still, Blaine really wanted to get to kiss Kurt someday. His erection, which had refused to flag, suggested he might want to do other things with Kurt, too. But Blaine would keep it to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was become a burden on Kurt, to ask for things he couldn't give.

Which meant he really needed to be done with erections by breakfast so that his penis wasn't poking through his pajamas to rudely point at Kurt. Shower, then.

As he stroked himself under the stream of hot water, it occurred to Blaine that Kurt would probably not approve of this anymore than he would approve of sleeping in the same bed. And Blaine wanted to be considerate. He really, really wanted to. So he tried not to think of Kurt's face, or his smile, or his voice. But the closer he got to the inevitable outcome, the harder it was to control the images that entered his mind.

When he came, it was to the thought of Kurt pulling him through the veil.

[wowbright]

Conversations in the Dark

Summary: Kurt and Blaine continue their slumber party by talking about love and family, as one does.

Words: ~4000 words

Challenge: For the Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge. This vignette takes its title and inspiration from the Day 5 prompt song, Conversations in the Dark by John Legend.

Notes: This story takes place directly after Losing My Sleep in the Mormon!Klaine verse. Kurt and Blaine are missionaries in Germany. Kurt is out as gay, and Blaine is closeted to everyone, including himself (mostly). See the Mormon!Klaine Master Post for more info and where this story fits in the verse.

More notes: P-day is missionary lingo for their weekly day off. Seventies are high-ranking leaders in the church. Schwester Rose is Marley Rose. She’s another missionary.

Warnings: Mentions of Finn being dead and mourning.

Rating: Teen and up

“Kurt?” Elder Anderson said, slipping into the familiarity they usually reserved for P-days. They were on the Andante from Mozart’s Flute and Harp Concerto in C Major.

Kurt didn’t correct his junior companion. He’d already decided to let the guy sleep next to him. Calling each other by their first names on a worknight was a far lesser concern. “The music’s not helping?”

“No, it is.”

“Even though you’re still awake?”

“It’s calming. And you’re still awake, too.”

“Only because I'm terrified that you're going to turn over at any point and glom your eyes onto me like some creepy doll in a horror movie.” Kurt had never actually seen a horror movie, but he gathered that at least half of them had some spookily cute toy that turned out to be a monster.

Blaine snickered. “I promise I will not glom my eyes onto you like some creepy doll in a horror movie.”

“Or chase me with a tricycle?” That was another horror movie detail Kurt had absorbed from his middle American high school milieu.

“Definitely not. I don’t have one.” Another soft laugh.

Kurt itched to open his eyes and look at Blaine. When he laughed like that, he always parted his lips just a fraction, exposing the fullness of his bottom lip. And he’d blink his eyes, his dark lashes fluttering like butterflies. It made Kurt feel giddy, the way he imagined he would have felt if he’d ever been given a solo in glee club—except possibly even better.

“You’re set on turning this into an actual slumber party rather than trying to go to sleep, aren’t you, Blaine?”

“You called me Blaine!” Kurt heard rustling next to him and imagined Blaine was wriggling on the bed with delight, the way Spinnenkatze did when she wanted her belly scratched.

“Well, we’re at a slumber party, aren’t we? It would be awkward to call you Elder Anderson.”

“I love it when you call me Blaine. Is that terrible?” Kurt heard another mattress sound, this time more like a bounce, and couldn’t resist opening his eyes to look. As he suspected, Blaine had flipped on his side to stare Kurt straight in the face.

“If it means you’ll forget I’m your boss the next day. Also, you’re looking at me.”

“It doesn’t count. You weren’t trying to sleep anymore. You officially declared it a slumber party.”

“Officially?”

“Yeah, because you’re the boss.”

“You’re indefatigable.”

“You know, when I first came across that word, I thought it was in-fatigue-able. So I guess it’s true. I’m not in the mood for sleep at all.”

“You will be in the morning,” Kurt said.

“Probably. I guess we should aim for some sort of lights-out.”

“The lights are already out.”

“I mean, when we actually try to fall asleep again. It seems pointless right now because we’ve both been trying for more than an hour. But maybe by twelve-thirty or one?”

“I didn’t expect you to say something so sensible.”

“I can be reasonable when the situation calls for it. And maybe we can skip exercise tomorrow and sleep in a half hour?”

“If it's going to be a slumber party, I guess by definition we have to sleep in at least a little bit late,” Kurt said with amused resignation. He turned off the MP3 player and pulled out his earbud. “So what does one do at a slumber party when one is older than seven?”

“My best friend in middle school and I always played lots of video games and watched movies, especially Star Wars. Those two activities are obviously out. I suppose I could narrate one of the Star Wars movies for you.”

“I’ve actually seen them, you know, just not as many times as you.”

“And then we talked about existential questions.”

“We talk about existential questions all the time,” Kurt said. “We’re missionaries.”

“Yeah, but … personal. You know, stuff you don’t usually talk about because you’re worried what other people might think. Because when you’re tired enough, you stop worrying. The meaning of life, what you see your life being like in twenty years, how you see your life now, will it finally feel like your family loves you when you’re all together in heaven. Stuff like that.”

“Wait. Repeat that last one?”

“Well, you know how dads are always off doing church things instead of being around. And Cooper is ten years older than me, so it’s been hard to stay close, and my mom—well, I do know she loves me. She's just a little strict sometimes. So I don’t always feel it, you know?”

“Blaine, that makes me so sad. You don’t feel loved by your own family?”

“It sounds bad when you put it that way.”

“I'm not trying to make you feel bad, or worse. I'm just... surprised, is all. The Plan of Salvation is about being together with your family. We're supposed to put family stuff before everything else. I get that you might feel distant from your brother, and sometimes things are rough with parents. But I figured with your dad being a Seventy, he’d make sure to be there for you.”

“He tries, I think. I mean, he says that fulfilling your callings is the best way to put your family first. Because with each calling, you become more like God, and closer to exaltation. And exaltation—ultimately, that’s the best thing a family can have, right?”

Technically, Blaine's dad was right. But it didn't settle well with Kurt. It didn't seem consistent with the gospel he knew. Everyone was here on this earth to learn to love God and each other. This life was our laboratory for learning. If you didn't take it upon yourself to make your son feel loved while you were alive, didn't you fail the test?

“How much did you actually get to see your dad, growing up?” Kurt asked.

“It wasn't that I didn't get to see him. I mean, not when I was little. All the traveling with his businesses came later. It's just, we hardly ever had long enough together to really connect. He'd come to dinner every night for exactly half an hour, and then he'd go back into his office to work some more. It's hard to go deep in half an hour. He was going to volunteer to help out with scouts one year so we could spend more time together, but the bishop wouldn’t call him to the position because he had more important callings going on.”

“Your bishop had a skewed sense of important.”

“My dad was stake president by then.”

“I don’t care if he was an apostle. Family always comes first. Always.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, his face making that expression of mixed gratitude and admiration that always made Kurt feel like his heart was going to melt. And then Blaine made it worse. He reached out and put his hand on top of Kurt’s. Because that was the way that Blaine spoke, with his body as much as his words, always needing to fortify an emotional connection with a physical one. Kurt’s heart hammered in his chest as Blaine gave his fingers a soft squeeze. “I wish I had a family like yours,” Blaine said.

Kurt was going to die right here on the spot if he felt any more feelings than he was feeling at this moment. He needed to rein them back. “You mean, with half of it dead?”

“No. You know what I mean. And that I hate it when you make jokes like that. It’s like you’re mocking your own grief. You’re allowed to feel things, Kurt.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Because it hurts too much?”

Kurt nodded. Blaine knew him far too well. And now Kurt did feel it. Tears pushed against his eyes. He blinked them back.

Blaine adjusted his hand, slotting his fingers between Kurt’s so they were intertwined, not just nested against each other. “We all have a right to feel safe. If that’s what it takes for you, I’ll try to learn to love it. Okay?”

Kurt nodded again. He couldn’t say anything.

“I should change the topic?”

“From death?” Kurt tried to be flippant, but the words barely squeaked out from his tight throat. “Yes.”

“Okay. What I wanted to tell you is that I really admire the way you are with your family. Even though I've never met them, I've never seen you interacting in person, it's obvious that they love you and you feel loved by them. You don’t just know it, but you feel it. And I'm so glad you have that, but I'm also a little jealous.”

“‘Thou shalt not covet …’” Kurt said in his best attempt at a teasing, sing-songy voice given the volume of tears that had collected in the back of his nose.

“Coveting isn’t always bad. Not if it leads you to things that bring you closer to God. The scriptures also say to ‘covet earnestly the best spiritual gifts.’ Don’t you think love is one of those things it’s okay to want?” Blaine looked at Kurt earnestly. His face was all shades of black and white and gray in the darkness of night, but still his eyes were bright and expressive. The light in them seemed to add layers of meaning to each word he spoke, as if the words were the surface of a pond but the meaning behind them was as deep as an ocean.

Kurt didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what Blaine was asking him. He knew what he wanted Blaine to be asking him, but even if that was the question, which it wasn’t, Kurt didn't know how he would answer. Everything was so complicated. In an alternate reality where Blaine could love him back the way he wanted, Kurt still wasn’t sure how God would feel about the whole thing. And without knowing that, Kurt couldn’t agree that desiring love always brought you closer to God.

He settled on answering the surface question, the one about familial love. “You don’t need to be jealous, Blaine. If my parents knew you, they would love you. They have such an expansive definition of family. They’ve practically made a hobby of adopting stray kids into our home. Like, Finn had a girlfriend who was pregnant—not by Finn, by someone else—and she got kicked out of her house and Carole welcomed her in. It didn't matter that Finn and his girlfriend were on the outs half the time or that the baby wasn't Carole’s grandkid. She saw a kid who needed a home and gave it to her. And then they invited one of the kids in my glee club to live with us for most of a year when his family had to move out of state for work and he didn’t want to move schools again.”

Blaine looked thoughtful. “I’d really like to meet them someday. They sound incredible. They sound like the kind of parent I want to be.”

“Me too.”

“I thought you didn’t think you were ever going to be a parent.”

“I don't know. I don't think I'll get married to a woman and have babies with her. But there are other ways. We'll see where the Lord leads me.” It would be a long shot. Kurt would have to receive some sort of revelation from the Holy Ghost to go against the church’s teachings. The church didn't approve of adoption by same-sex couples, and they didn't approve of single-parent adoption, either. Both denied children the father-mother structure that emulated Heavenly Parents.

“Huh. Good. I think you’ll be a good father.”

“Even though it’s not doctrinal?”

“Kurt, let's be honest. I'm terrible with doctrine. That's your forte.”

“You’re not terrible.”

“I kind of am. Sure, I follow the rules. But it’s because I'm a fish in a pond and it's the only water I've ever known. If I really think about the rules and the doctrine, though? I don't really get it. The most important thing Jesus ever taught us was to love. Heavenly Father sent him as an act of love. He paid for our sins at Gethsemane out of love. So why do we need all these rules? Why don’t we just follow in his footsteps?”

“The doctrine is there to help us do that,” Kurt said. But unlike the hundreds of times he’d said it before, he felt no conviction.

Blaine tightened his hand around Kurtz, then relaxed it. It felt like a heartbeat. “Can I ask you a question, Kurt?”

That didn't sound good. As a general rule, people only requested permission to ask questions when they knew the thing they were about to say might be upsetting. Kurt had the sinking feeling that Blaine was going to bring up polygamy again, or something equally awful. He pulled his hand away from Blaine’s. “Is it a question I’ll like?”

“Maybe not. But it’s something I've been thinking about lately.”

“Polygamy? Because I really don't want to spend our awesome slumber party arguing about polygamy.”

“No. Not polygamy. It's not about the church at all. Not really.”

“So it's existential ? Slumber party appropriate?”

“Absolutely,” Blaine said with an exaggerated, adorable grin.

“Then you might as well.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

If Kurt had been standing up, his heart would have sunk somewhere among his intestines and gotten tangled there. But he was lying down, so instead, it pushed against his diaphragm and made it hard to breathe. “Why do you want to know that?”

“I've never been in love before. I'm curious what it's like.”

“You’re on your mission.”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t be thinking about being in love.”

“I suppose not. But I am. And we're having a slumber party, and this is the kind of thing one discusses at a slumber party, so …”  

Kurt jiggled his shoulders to loosen his heart from the place it was stuck. He took a deep breath. “This is about Schwester Rose, isn’t it?”

“Schwester Rose? What does she have to do with anything?” Blaine’s tone sounded genuinely confused.

“You guys. At dinner. The laughing and the jokes. You seemed really … into each other.”

“What? No.” Blaine’s fat caterpillar eyebrows squeezed together the way they did whenever some new piece of bewildering information confronted him. “No.”

“And other times, too. You two are always on the same wavelength. You’re so much alike. Sweet and optimistic and—”

“You think I’m into Schwester Rose?”

“I think you’ve been acting like it.”

Blaine banged his head against his pillow, then half-buried his face in it. Apparently, he was embarrassed. “Okay, I know I’m oblivious about flirting with people, but that’s because everyone has different standards for how nice you can be to another person before it crosses the line into too nice. It’s not my fault that God made me like people and want to be nice to them.”

Kurt rubbed Blaine’s shoulder. “It’s not. But—”

“I’m not into her. I think I would know if I was.”

Kurt wasn’t buying it. “Maybe you’re into her without realizing it. Since you’ve never been in love.”

“Fine. Then tell me. Have you?”

Kurt flopped onto his back in frustration. And also because he couldn't bare looking at Blaine’s face anymore. “If I have, I’m not supposed to dwell on it.”

“Says who?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Blaine. You know who.”

“Yeah, some straight white guy who was born in the 1920s and has never met a gay person in his life. Look. I respect the apostles. I do. When they talk about the things they’ve experienced, the things they know, I have a lot to learn from them. But when they try to make rules for people whose existence they denied two decades ago, I’m going to look at it as an uninformed opinion, not the inspired word of the Lord.”

“Wow. You’re on fire tonight.” Kurt knew he should argue, but it was after midnight now. He was tired, even if he couldn’t fall asleep.

“I guess that’s what insomnia does to me. C’mon. Tell me.”

Kurt looked at Blaine. He had that expression again that made Kurt want to climb the Zugspitze and a million other inadvisable things, if those things would make Blaine happy. His lips were parted and his eyelashes were black butterflies and his eyebrows were cresting waves.

“Oh, fine,” Kurt said. “But you have to promise not to laugh. Or to feel sorry for me.”

“Can I feel sympathetic ?”

“Not if you give me those sad puppy dog eyes you get when you're feeling other people’s pain.”

“I don't make puppy dog eyes.”

“You totally do.”

“OK, let’s say you’re right. If I don't know that I make puppy dog eyes, how am I supposed to stop myself from doing it?”

“I'll pinch you.”

“Fair enough.”

“And lastly, you cannot judge me.”

“Kurt.” Blaine’s tone was disappointed. “You know I won’t.”

Kurt knew, but he couldn't let it go. Mostly because he needed to remind himself not to judge who he had been when he was younger. “Just promise, okay?”

“Okay.”

And with those agreements in place, Kurt launched into the world's most pathetic love story. About falling for a guy who threw him in dumpsters. How it wasn’t really love, but it sure felt like it at the time. How painful it was to crush on someone he couldn’t have. (Blaine asked for details here, about the specific sensations that fluttered in Kurt’s stomach whenever he was near the object of his affection, if his mouth went dry, if Kurt wanted to bring him flowers, if he dreamt about him at night—so many questions Kurt eventually had to tell him to stop or he would never hear the rest of the story.) And finally, how he tried to transform his romantic feelings into brotherly ones, so much so that he introduced his dad to his crush’s mom with the hopes they would get married and be sealed together and Kurt could spend eternity with this guy who would never love him back in the same way.

“Wow. That’s intense. Guess it didn’t work out, since your dad ended up with Carole.”

“No. It did work out. The guy I was crushing on was Finn.”

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine’s expression was pained and full of sadness. Puppy dog eyes, one might call it. But Kurt decided not to, because then he would need to hold to his end of the bargain and pinch Blaine, and he didn't have the heart to. Because right now he loved Blaine with all his soul. He loved how Christlike Blaine was, how he willingly took on other people’s pain and suffered with them. Kurt barely had the strength to carry his own pain. But Blaine was able to lift it from him, just like that.

“It’s fine,” Kurt said. “My crush was over by the time they actually got married. I definitely prefer Finn as a brother. Lust can't last forever.”

“Lust?” Blaine’s eyebrows perked up. “Elder Hummel in lust? I can’t imagine. He’s so wholesome.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“You can’t tell me what I want to know and not know.” Blaine’s eyes were full of challenge. He really was firey tonight. What had gotten into him?

“Blaine, I appreciate your interest, but really—the crush was so ludicrous, the only reason I can figure out that it ever happened in the first place was to bring our families together. I mean, seriously. You want to know the exact moment I fell for him? It’s really pathetic.”

“I don’t believe that. He must have been something special to get your attention.”

“He was. But not in that way. And not in that moment. Because literally, all he did was walk into the bathroom when a bully was trying to force me to drink Kahlua—because of the Word of Wisdom—and Finn suggested the guy use coffee instead because he’d get in trouble for having alcohol on school grounds. I mean, it got him to stop. But it wasn’t exactly heroic, either. I was just that desperate for any kindness at that point. I mean, Finn’s not a bad guy—please don’t think that—but he was a kid who’d always been popular and never thought about what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the cool kids’ harassment, you know? Not until he started hanging out with me and some of the other nerds in the glee club.”

Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand again, squeezed it proudly. “Then that was the reason for the whole thing. He needed you. He needed someone to show him he could be better than he was behaving. That he should try to live up to being the image of God.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he just needed to grow up. We’re all stupid when we’re kids, aren’t we? I’m only thankful that I did get to see him grow up a little before he di—” The word caught in Kurt’s throat. Oh, God. It didn’t usually hit Kurt like this. Maybe it was Blaine’s hand on his, or his eyes on his, or the infinite well of sympathy that seemed to exist in Blaine’s heart. Kurt didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to think—really think—about Finn being dead, but all of a sudden he was thinking about it, about how he would never see his brother again for as long as he lived, how he’d wasted so much time on a stupid crush that romanticized Finn and made him into someone he wasn’t, how much he missed the person Finn actually turned out to be, how Kurt wished he’d had him as a brother for longer, for years and years, back to when they were fifth-graders and forward until they were old.

Kurt felt Blaine’s arms around him before he felt the sobs wracking his own chest. He felt Blaine breathing against him, felt his arms around his back, soothing his shoulder blades, heard him whispering, “It sucks. It’s not fair. I love you.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how long he cried. At some point, he realized Blaine was crying too. “No,” Kurt said, wiping away Blaine’s tears with his bare fingers, “you’re not supposed to do that. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said. “It’s a blessing. ‘Mourn with those that mourn; … comfort those that stand in need of comfort.’ I want to be that person for you, Kurt.”

Kurt’s fingers stilled. He held Blaine’s face like a gift. “Of course you do. You’re like Jesus that way.”

“Jesus?” Blaine laughed. His eyes darted down toward the sheets. “I don’t think so.”

Kurt wasn’t going to argue with Blaine. He was too tired. He felt his exhaustion and the truth of what he’d said down into his bones. Kurt knew it was true, and that would have to be enough for now. “C’mon. It's getting late. Let's go to bed.”

“We're already in bed,” Blaine said, sticking out his tongue even as he patted down the sheets.

“That was mature,” Kurt said, but laughed anyway. Was his sassiness rubbing off on Blaine, or had Blaine always had that hidden away inside him, but never felt safe enough to let it out?

When Kurt turned the player back on, it was Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. Thoughts swam in Kurt’s mind, about Christ and grace, about what it really meant to follow in Jesus’s footsteps—to follow the path laid out by prophets and apostles, or to follow love wherever it led him?

“This is a good song,” Blaine said sleepily, rolling closer, right on the edge of where their two mattresses met, and laying his hand on Kurt's arm.

Kurt knew Blaine would give him more if he asked for it. Not everything he wanted, but the thing he needed most right now. He rolled toward Blaine, setting his head on his companion’s shoulder, and felt Blaine’s arms wrap around him. He felt Blaine’s chest rise and fall beneath him, felt Blaine’s chin against his forehead.

“Good night, Kurt. I love you.”

Kurt couldn’t say it back, but he felt it as deeply as he ever had.