#so as a result rachel has a weird one-sided relationship with quinn

[forabeatofadrum]

Question for fic readers and I guess also writers:

In the upcoming chapter of Ljubili se (yes, I am writing something), I am introducing a "plot point" that might potentially never be brought up again. Should I include it in the first place, or is it fine to just never bring it up again? Or at least, it won't be resolved. And that's because it has absolutely nothing to do with the actual story of Ljubili se.

Then why is it there in the first place? Well, because other characters still have a life of their own, and even though Kurt and Blaine don't know it, that doesn't mean it isn't there. Does that make sense? So it's more to show that people in this universe are people with their own lives and stories and thoughts and what not, completely separately from their connection to Kurt and Blaine. But then again, if I do bring it up, even if it's mostly up to interpretation, do people want a pay-off?

[flowerfan2]

Affinity - Ch. 4 (10.04)

McDanno, A03

A continuous story of season 10 episode codas.  Steve may describe their relationship as a dysfunctional marriage, but at some point, will he and Danny take a closer look at what it really could be?    

Chapter 4 (10.04)

They stay at the bar at the Hilton longer than they should, but it feels good to relax after the stress of the day.  Steve loves having his team together like this, everyone safe and in the same place. Danny’s at his side, smiling and laughing, and all is right with the world.

Steve doesn’t pretend that Danny’s playful mood doesn’t affect him, and the rest of the team is well aware. Every glance over to the two of them from Lou or Tani results in a knowing smile, and it’s a feedback loop of fond approval that just keeps getting better.  

Steve vows to keep doing this, gathering his ohana around him, as often as he can.  He’s not a fatalistic guy, but still, he needs to make sure to appreciate what he has.  Because it’s pretty damn good.

Finally Lou announces that he needs to get home to Renee, and Adam heads out with him.  Quinn looks undecided, but Tani’s ears suddenly perk up when a new band plays their opening riff on the other side of the bar, and she convinces Junior and Quinn to go check it out with her.

“She loves to dance,” Junior says in explanation to Quinn, setting his hand on the small of Tani’s back so quickly that if you blinked, you would miss it.  

“Sounds like fun,” Quinn responds easily.  “You guys coming too?”

Steve answers for them both. “Nah, we’re good.”

Danny shoots an approving nod at Steve. Danny may have spent the day teasing Steve about dating, but he’s right on board with the more important things in life – like chilling out right here while the kids go play.

 Steve’s still not sure why Danny is so fixated on finding him a date.  At one point during the day Steve had turned the conversation back on Danny, trying to find out whether he’s dating Rachel, but Danny just brushed him off and went right back to trying to set Steve up.  It’s a little weird.

 A waiter stops by to see if they want more beer, and Steve orders them each a whiskey instead.  

 “Now you’re talking,” Danny says, giving him a goofy grin.  They sit companionably for a while, people watching.  Danny has his legs kicked out in front of him, and his chair has migrated closer to Steve’s, so they’re both looking out over the patio.  It’s like when they sit on Steve’s beach, except with Bob Marley  playing in the background, and considerably more tourists.

 Danny’s elbow bumps Steve’s arm every once in a while, even more so when their drinks arrive.

 “You did good today,” Steve says, as they clink their glasses together.  “The whole team did.”

 Danny takes a long sip.  Steve watches as he licks his lips afterwards, tongue quickly flickering out and back again.  There’s a slight flush to Danny’s cheeks, the way he gets when he’s had just enough alcohol to loosen the tension that seems to be as much as part of Danny as his ridiculous haircuts.

 “Yeah, we did okay.  Wish we didn’t have to go running to Wright, though. He’s an ass.”

 Steve snorts.  “Can’t say I disagree.”

 “Definitely makes you miss Jerry,” Danny says.  “Not that that’s the only reason.”

 “Of course not.”  Steve finishes his whiskey and considers ordering another. Danny’s almost done with his as well, so when the attentive waiter inquires, Steve nods.  

 Danny grins at him.  “That kind of night, huh?”

 “What?”

 “Hope you brought your wallet.”

 “Ha ha, hasn’t that joke gotten old already?”  

 “It’ll never get old, buddy, not until you start paying your way.”

 “Hey, I paid for our drinks last time we got the team together,” Steve protests.

 “You brought one lonely six-pack of beer, and then sent Junior out for more.  I don’t think that counts.”

 They launch into an accounting of all the ways Steve has annoyed Danny by not, in Danny’s words, being a gentleman when it comes to money, when Quinn shows up, hair tousled and eyes bright.

 “Forgot my phone,” she says, finding it under a napkin on the table.  “Thought I’d take some pictures.  Junior’s got some interesting moves.”  She grins at them.  “Sure you guys don’t want to join us?  The band is pretty good.”

 “Nah, Danny’s a terrible dancer,” Steve says, fighting down a smile.

 “I am <i>not</i> - why would you say that?  Why?  You’re a terrible person-”  They don’t really notice Quinn leaving.

 Their friendly bickering dies down, and Danny stretches back in his chair, closing his eyes.  Steve finds himself admiring the way Danny’s lashes fall over his cheeks, and mentally gives himself a strong kick in the behind. He has got to stop looking at his partner this way.

 As if Steve had spoken the words out loud, Danny’s eyes blink open to find Steve staring at him.  “What?”  Danny asks lazily, letting his head fall to the side as he turns to Steve.

 Desperate to avoid actually saying what’s on his mind, Steve reverts back to their earlier conversation.  “The team did good today.”

 Danny frowns.  “Yeah, you said that already.  Team did good.”

 “I mean, everyone worked well together, especially given that it was Quinn’s first day,” Steve says, searching for a way to defend his otherwise completely repetitive statement. “Could’ve been rough for her. Yumi being a spy was definitely a surprise, right?  But Quinn rose to the occasion, don’t you think?”

 Danny’s looking at him with a decidedly less relaxed expression than he’s been sporting for the past little while, and Steve prepares himself for the inevitable Danny rant that seems to be coming.  But then something passes over Danny’s face and he seems to resign himself, leaning back in his chair again.

 “Sure, she did.  So long as Quinn’s the only thing rising.”  Danny adds a little sneer to this, an attempt at innuendo that catches Steve by surprise.

 “What?”

 “You heard me.”

 “Danny – that was – that was- did you?” Steve sputters.  Did Danny just make a reference to his… private parts?

 Danny grins at his discomfort. “Sorry.  Too far?”

 “Yes,” Steve says firmly. “You’re way, way off base.”

 “I just know you tend to get, shall we say…” Danny waves his hands in the general direction of Steve’s body, including his lower half, “excited… by shows of competence on the part of the female members of our team.  Especially when accompanied by crazy jujitsu fighting.”

 Steve can feel the heat rising in his cheeks.  “Okay, first of all, it’s not as if I even saw Quinn and Tani fighting today. Second, I do not” he waves his hands back at Danny “I do not get aroused by female members of the team doing their jobs, if that’s what you are implying-”

 “Aroused?  That’s a good word for it, sorry I didn’t think of that one,” Danny says, his eyes flashing with amusement.  “And I beg to differ.  You love it when a woman goes all bad-ass on the bad guys.”

 “It’s not like that – Danny!”  To be fair, Steve is aware that he has somewhat of a competence kink, but it’s not limited to the female members of the team. And he is far too professional to let it distract him at work.  Usually.

 “I said I was sorry,” Danny says, laughing outright now.

 Steve doesn’t know why he lets Danny rile him up.  Okay, he does kind of know, it’s as much fun as anything else they do together.  But he got sucked into this one far too easily. “You are clearly not sorry,” he retorts.

 “Eh, maybe not.”  Danny snorts and laughs at the same time.  It shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.  “But I see you watching our newest member-” Danny breaks off, eyebrows flying up as he realizes the missed possibility of making something out of the word “member.”

 Steve’s eyebrows fly up.  “What is this, middle school?  I promise you, I am not thinking about sex when I’m working with Quinn.”  At least that’s true.  He’s been too focused on assessing her skills and how she fits in with the team to even consider such a thing.

 Danny just starts laughing even more, enjoying the shit out of Steve’s protests.  “Glad to hear it, babe, really, nice of you to be so specific.  You’re a crazy man, I don’t know why I put up with you, I can’t believe those words even came out of your mouth, but I am definitely glad to hear it-”

 Steve sees it happening, knows what’s going to happen before it does, but even his reflexes aren’t enough to stop it. Danny’s tilting his chair back and waving his arms as he rants at Steve, and he pushes with a foot on an empty chair just to get a little more action in his tilt, when one of the chair legs gives out and the whole thing goes crashing backwards, taking Danny with it.

 Steve lunges to catch Danny, but he can’t get there in time.  He sees the chair slam down on the stone paving, and flinches as Danny’s head hits the ground with a thud.

 In seconds Steve is on his knees next to Danny, hands on his head.  Danny’s eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s not moving, and for a long second Steve’s heart freezes in his chest.  But then Danny groans and tries to sit up.  Steve grabs his shoulders, his body pressed close.

 “Hey, hey, don’t move for a sec, okay?” Steve runs his fingers around Danny’s head, checking for blood.

 “Ow ow ow, fuck, stop,” Danny scrabbles at Steve’s hands, but Steve just shifts and holds him steady.

 “Lemme check you out, hold still.”

 “Fucking hurts,” Danny says, squirming. Steve satisfies himself that Danny’s head still seems to be in one piece, and helps him detangle himself from the chair and sit more comfortably on the ground.

 “Danny, open your eyes,” Steve says, one hand on Danny’s shoulder to support him, the other cupping his face. “You with me?”

 Danny squints at him, blue eyes meeting his.  “Where else would I be?”

 “Good, good.”

 There’s a small crowd gathering, and miraculously Tani is there with a bag of ice wrapped in a napkin, and Junior is herding people away from the scene.  There’s a manager from the Hilton, too, looking considerably worried.

 Steve holds the ice to the back of Danny’s head, and Danny curses.  

 “Quite a mouth on you tonight,” Steve says softly.  

 Danny’s leaning against him, and he half-heartedly pokes Steve with a finger.  “Shut up.  Ow.”

 Tani crouches down next to them. “You okay, Danny?  Manager says this has never happened before, apologized all over the place.  Even said he’d cover our tab.”

 Danny laughs into Steve’s shoulder, and then groans.

 “What?”

 “Figures Steve would get away with not paying again.”

 Steve lets out a long breath.  If Danny’s ribbing him, he’s not dying, at least probably not.  They sit there for a few minutes more, the ice melting and dripping down into Danny’s collar.  Finally Danny fidgets sufficiently and it’s time to move.

 “Come on, let’s get you up.” Steve ducks under Danny’s arm and wraps himself around Danny’s waist, helping him stagger to his feet.  

 “Ow, fuck,” Danny says eloquently, closing his eyes again.  Steve just holds them in place for a minute, letting Danny get his bearings.

 Quinn appears next to them, head turning in all directions, eyes alert as she tries to catch up.  She was getting drinks when Danny fell.  “What happened?”

 Danny sighs and straightens, stepping away from Steve.  “Nothing, relax, it’s fine,” Danny says.

 Maybe, but Steve would still rather keep holding on to Danny.  Steve doesn’t think he’s particularly steady.  And, you know, he’s nice to hold onto.

 “Danny just smacked the ground with his head,” Tani says lightly.  “Didn’t like the way it was looking at him.”

 Quinn doesn’t seem convinced.

 “No, really, we’re okay,” Steve says, hardly noticing that he included himself in with Danny.  “You guys go back and have fun, I think we’re going to head home.”

 Tani fusses over Danny a little more, whispering something in his ear that makes him huff out a pained laugh, and herds Junior and Quinn away.  Steve blows out a breath, and turns to Danny, who suddenly looks even less steady than he did a moment ago.

 Steve’s suspicion is confirmed when Danny ducks his head and groans again, hands coming up to cover his eyes. Danny didn’t want the new girl to see him hurting.  Steve gets it.  This getting old thing sucks.

 “Come on, buddy, let’s go,” Steve says, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.  

 Danny sags against him.  “Feels like my head’s gonna explode.”

 “I know.”

 They make their way slowly out through the maze that is the Hilton.  It’s busy even at this time of night, and Steve steers Danny as gently as he can past groups of partying guests.  He wonders if they should have walked along the dark beach instead, but then Danny would just complain about getting sand in his shoes.

 Finally they make it to the street, and Steve quickly helps Danny into a waiting cab.  Steve’s had a little too much to drink to think about driving, even though Danny’s fall has done a lot to sober him up.  But in any case, he’d rather be able to give Danny his full attention.

 Steve waits until they are settled inside the cab to say what needs to be said.  “Maybe we should stop by the hospital, get you checked out.”

 Danny moans again, but this time it isn’t because of his headache.  “You incredible hypocrite.  You would never go to the hospital for this.”

 Danny’s right, of course, but Steve won’t admit it.  “You hit your head really hard, Danny, and you weren’t braced for it at all.”

 “We get our heads knocked around every day, Steve.  I’m fine. I didn’t lose consciousness.”

 And thank god for that, Steve thinks. He shifts Danny around and looks in his eyes again, just as he did right after the accident.  Danny was tracking then, and he is now, no signs of serious head injury.  “Any nausea? Ringing in your ears?”

 “No, Steve.  No.  Drop it.”

 I will for now, Steve thinks. But he’s keeping an eye on Danny tonight.

 This becomes clear to Danny when they arrive at his house and Steve gets out too.  It’s not the first time they’ve looked after each other after a grueling day at work.   Danny doesn’t even protest.

 Steve takes off his shoes and locks the door behind them, then does a quick check of the house, making sure everything is closed up.  He finds Danny in the kitchen, looking a little green as he drinks down a glass of water.  Danny rolls his eyes when Steve follows him up the stairs.  Steve resists the urge to swat Danny on his perky ass – now is not the time – but his disobedient brain enjoys the sight anyway.

 Steve uses the spare bathroom and gives Danny a minute to get changed.  When he pokes his head into Danny’s bedroom, though, Danny is still mostly dressed, shoes in a tumble in the corner of the room and shirt untucked. He’s leaning against his dresser with his head hanging down.

 Steve gently moves him towards the bed, and Danny sits with a wince.  “I know you just want to sleep,” Steve says softly.  “But you’ll rest better if you take these off.”  He starts in on the buttons on Danny’s shirt, and it’s a sign of just how out of it Danny is that he lets Steve continue.

 Danny rouses a little once his shirt comes off, taking over to undo his belt and shed his pants and socks.  He climbs into bed in his boxers, waving a hand in Steve’s general direction.  “Turn off the light already.”

 Steve does, and then strips down to his underwear.  He scrounges in Danny’s drawers until he finds the spare pair of sweatpants he leaves here, and then climbs into the bed behind Danny.

 “What do you think you’re doing?” Danny mutters, face pressed into the pillow.

 Steve makes himself comfortable, lying on his side.  He’s staring right at the back of Danny’s head.  If there were more light in the room, he could watch to see whether he’s got a bump there.

 “Steven.  Go ‘way.”

 “Nope.”  Steve pulls at the blankets until they are both covered up to their chins.  It may be Hawaii, but it still gets cold at night. “You’re potentially concussed.  If you won’t go to the hospital, I’m keeping a close eye on you.”

 “How’re you gonna do that when you’re asleep, huh?”

 “I’ll figure it out.  Get some rest.”  Steve has already set an alarm on his phone to go off every two hours. It’s switched to vibrate, so it won’t startle Danny.  Steve isn’t leaving anything to chance.

 “I think you’re an idiot but I’m too tired to argue.”

 Steve huffs out a laugh.  This is such familiar territory, it should have their names on it.  “You must be really tired.”

 Danny sighs out a long breath.

 “You okay, Danno?”

 “Yeah.”  Danny shuffles his legs around, winding up a little closer to Steve. “You’re nice and warm.  ‘S good.”

 “Happy to be of service.  Now go to sleep.”

 Steve can’t help but get a little fixated on Danny’s breathing, watching his shoulder gently move as he inhales and exhales.  He knows that Danny is probably right – he’s not injured any more than they usually are from a day like today – but that isn’t making him feel much better.  It would be just their luck to survive countless gunfights and then get taken down by something as commonplace as a broken chair.

 When Steve feels his own eyes start to droop, he decides it’s safe to sleep for a little while.  He lifts up on an elbow, scanning Danny’s face in the dim light for any sign of distress.

 “I’m really glad you’re okay,” Steve whispers, and presses a kiss to Danny’s cheek.

[klaineanummel]

eighteen going on extinct 15/20

Kurt Fabray just wants to relax after a tough week at school, but that is shown to be impossible when he realizes that his absent father has once again blown into town. Not wanting to spend more time around him than necessary, Kurt goes to his old babysitters house, the one place he feels safe when his father is in town. While there, he stumbles upon a secret he knows he was never meant to find out - one that could change the entire course of his life.

An AU very loosely based on Mamma Mia.

Hope everyone is gearing up for an awesome weekend!! Thanks so much for all your comments and likes and kudos and reblogs <3 I’m sorry I’m so shit at answering them all, but know that I read each and every one and that I love them all! 

Minor warning for Puck basically being Puck here haha hope you enjoy <3

Previous Chapter |  Read on AO3

The crumpled paper falls from Finn’s hand. He glances between Kurt, Rachel, and Quinn. He looks like he’s about to cry, and it makes Kurt want to burst into tears all over again.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “It doesn’t make any sense. If Puck isn’t the father, then it has to be me, right? I can’t – this doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, it does,” Quinn says, her voice hollow. She doesn’t look up at any of them, picking at a loose thread in her jeans. “I knew that would be the result as soon as Kurt said Puck wasn’t his father.”

“I don’t get it,” Finn says, picking the paper up again. “How? If I’m not the father, and Puck isn’t the father, then who—”

“Burt Hummel,” Kurt says, his voice as hollow as his mother’s.

His mother looks up at him, quick as a whip, her eyes wide and watery.

“That’s it, right?” Kurt asks. “He’s my dad. There’s nobody else it could be. You said you were cheating with Puck and on Puck at the same time, so if it isn’t Finn and it isn’t Puck, then it has to be Burt Hummel.”

His mother’s eyes shut tight and she nods once, the motion clearly painful. “I’m so sorry.”

Kurt stands up, hands going to his stomach. “I think I need to lay down for a while,” he says, stepping away from the sitting adults. “I need to… not be here. For a little bit.”

“Kurt, please,” his mom stands up, too, but Kurt moves fast, heading out of the living room and jogging all the way up to his room. He shuts the door tight, leaning his back against it. He breathes in deeply, then exhales, trying to calm his beating heart.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out without thinking.

From: Bowtie Blaine

Hey, what happened to texting me on the bus? I had to listen to Santana Lopez talk about lacrosse players throwing up on each other for the entire ride :(

Kurt locks his phone up, then places it on his side table before falling on his bed face first.

Burt Hummel.

His father is Burt Hummel.

Blaine’s foster father is Kurt’s actual father.

At least it isn’t Puck, his subconscious whispers. Kurt groans and turns onto his side, slipping under the covers and wrapping them tightly around himself.

If only that made any of this better.

It’s hours before Finn knocks on his door, peeking his head in when Kurt says nothing.

“Hey, Kurt,” he says, voice soft. “I, uh. I know this isn’t what either of us wanted, but I want you to know that I meant what I said.” He walks toward Kurt’s bed and settles down in it, placing a hand on Kurt’s calf through the blanket. “You’re my son, okay? I’ve always seen you as my son, and so has Rachel. This test changes nothing.”

“It does, though,” Kurt says, feeling empty. “It changes everything.”

“Not to me,” Finn says. He stands back up, and then, to Kurt’s surprise, leans down and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Sleep well, okay Kurt?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, wrapping himself tighter in the blankets. “You, too.”

Halfway through the night, Kurt is woken up by the sound of his door opening. He turns over in his bed, sitting up slightly, but stops when a small hand rests on his shoulder and presses him back into the mattress.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Kurt’s eyes are still mostly shut, so he doesn’t see her, but he could swear that was his mom’s voice. Which is weird, because he’s pretty sure that she’d left hours ago. “Go  back to sleep.”

“Mom?” he asks, just to be sure.

Soft lips connect gently with his forehead. He sighs, settling further into the mattress, suddenly feeling all of five years old again.

“I love you,” she whispers into his skin. “And I’m so, so sorry.”

She’s gone before he has the chance to answer, and by the time his door has clicked shut again, he’s already asleep.

He almost skips school the next day. He wants nothing more than to skip school. Really, all he wants to do all day is lie in bed, wrapped in blankets, and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

He can’t keep avoiding his problems, though. His mom made that more than clear the day before. So, he gets out of bed, forces himself to get dressed, and lets Rachel drive him to school.

“I know this must be tough,” Rachel says as they drive. “Not getting the result you were expecting.”

“Tough is one way to put it,” Kurt says, fiddling with his nose ring.

“I’m proud of you for going to school today,” she says. “For, you know. Facing Blaine.”

“Yeah, well, obviously avoiding my problems just makes people force me into a confrontation, so what’s the point.”

She side-eyes him a little, then says, “Well, regardless of your motivation, I still think it’s healthy. The sooner you act like everything is normal, the sooner things will go back to normal.”

“I don’t want to sound dramatic,” Kurt says, letting his head fall against the window, “but I don’t even know what the word normal means anymore.”

“Okay, well, something resembling normal,” she says. “Now that you know Puck isn’t your father—”

“You know, that’s the thing,” Kurt says, sitting back up. “That’s the fucking thing. I had this idea in my head that I would get those results, see Puck wasn’t my father, and he’d just magically vanish from my life. Like, he’d just pack it up and leave, or mom would finally come to her senses and kick him out, but no. He’s still there. He’s still living in my home. So, really, what did it change?” He shakes his head. “Not a fucking thing.”

“That’s not why you did this, Kurt,” Rachel says. “You told us when you asked for us to pay for this that the reason you did it was for peace of mind.”

“Well, I got none, so there you go,” Kurt shakes his head. “Sorry you wasted your money.”

“I’m not,” Rachel says. “The only result that really matters to me is that Puck isn’t your father. As far as I’m concerned, that means Finn is. End of discussion.”

“Except not really, because my actual father is currently fostering the guy I have a massive crush on,” Kurt says. “So, no, not end of discussion. This actually makes things even more goddamn complicated than before. Oh, and bonus fun news, mom still hasn’t told me jack shit about Burt Hummel and their relationship, because she couldn’t even be bothered to come and say goodnight to me before she left last night.”

“That’s because she didn’t leave,” Rachel says.

Kurt turns to her slowly, tilting his head in confusion. “What?”

“She slept on the couch,” Rachel says. “She only left early this morning, to go to her shift. I thought I saw her sneaking in your room to say goodbye, but maybe not.”

“Oh,” Kurt says. A memory slips into his mind, of forehead kisses and soft ‘I love you’s’. “Oh,” he repeats. “I thought I’d dreamt…” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. She still could have said goodnight the night before, not goodbye when I was half asleep.”

“Yeah, she could have,” Rachel says. She glances at Kurt, then says, “This is hard on her, too, you know.”

Kurt snorts. “Must be devastating finding out the only reason the man you love stays with you is a lie.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Rachel says. “From what I heard yesterday, I kind of get the idea that she’s always known, she just refused to accept it.”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Kurt says shortly.

“I know, but still. She’s being forced to confront something she’s lied to herself about for almost eighteen years. Can’t be easy.”

“Well, finding out my father is actually a man I barely know and acting as a father to the guy I want to date hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, so maybe she and I could form a club.”

“I don’t think you’re really being fair to your mother, Kurt,” Rachel says.

“She wasn’t being fair to me,” Kurt says. “She purposefully never mentioned Burt Hummel to me, and now I’m finding out that she’s always known that man was my father? What sort of bullshit is that?!”

“Hey, that’s just my theory,” Rachel says. “Don’t let me put words in your mother’s mouth.”

“Whatever,” Kurt says. “It’s just all bullshit. I thought that paternity test would make things better, but it’s just made things a thousand times more complicated,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do it.”

Rachel doesn’t answer, and they spend the rest of the drive in silence.

Blaine is waiting for Kurt on the steps of the school, and the sight of him makes Kurt’s heart sink.

How can he possibly tell Blaine about all this? How can he go to a boy who has never had a real family, and tell him that the closest thing he’s ever had to a father is actually Kurt’s own dad?

He can practically see the heartbreak on Blaine’s face when he tells him.

Fuck, he can’t. He just can’t.

“Hey,” Blaine greets him with an easy smile, seemingly unaware of Kurt’s terrible mood. “I have good news for you.”

“I could use some of that,” Kurt mumbles. “What is it?”

“Puck’s bike is done!” Blaine says. “Burt says you can come get it after school, if you want. He’ll keep the garage open until six if you need him to.”

“Fuck,” Kurt groans. “I totally forgot about the fucking bike. God, Puck is going to deck me when he sees me.”

“What?!” Blaine practically shouts.

Kurt shakes his head. “Never mind. You’re right, this is good news. Maybe the asshole will finally leave once he has his precious baby back. I’ll just text my mom and tell her to meet me at the garage with Puck sometime before six.”

“Great,” Blaine grins. Kurt really wishes he could steal a bit of Blaine’s good mood. “I’ll tell Burt to keep the shop open.”

“Cool,” Kurt nods.

Christ.

As if things weren’t enough of a goddamn mess.

Finn ends up being held up after class, and Rachel has an impromptu but important Skype meeting about Wicked, and so Kurt ends up taking the bus with Blaine to the garage.

“Okay, seriously,” Blaine says as soon as they’re on the bus. “What is your deal today? I’ve been trying to go with a different tactic from the usual calling you out thing, but sheesh. Seems like I shouldn’t mess with what I know, huh?”

“Nothing,” Kurt says. “Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.”

“No kidding,” Blaine shakes his head. “I thought you’d be happy about the bike. You know, you don’t owe Puck anything anymore. And when the paternity test comes in, then you really won’t owe him anything.”

“Yeah,” Kurt slumps further in his seat. “When the paternity test comes in,” he frowns. “You know, lately I haven’t had that great of a feeling about it.”

“What? Last I checked you were practically dying to get the results. What the hell happened?!”

“My mom came by last night,” Kurt admits, the one thing he knows he can actually talk to Blaine about. “Confronted me about ignoring her. We had a huge fight.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine puts a hand on his shoulder. “Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?”

It feels like nothing compared to what I found out after. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” Blaine says. “If I had known…”

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be letting my bad mood drag you down. I ruined your day.”

Blaine smirks. “You don’t have that much control over my mood, you know.”

“Of course not,” Kurt says. “Fuck, I’m just a fucking moron today,” he lets his head fall back against the bus seat, and groans at how hard his skull hits the metal bar. “Shit,” he grumbles.

“No, I’m – I’m sorry, Kurt. I’m trying to like, alleviate the tension or something, I don’t know. Clearly it’s not working. I promise you didn’t ruin my day though, okay?” He chews on his lip for a moment, then says, “Actually, seeing you could never ruin my day.”

“Stop,” Kurt shakes his head. “I told you, we can’t do that anymore.”

“Because we’re best friends, sheesh, Kurt.”

“You know, you just said ‘sheesh’ unironically twice in a row. You’re officially a prep.”

“I thought I had to be rich to be a prep.”

Kurt smiles, letting himself fall into Blaine’s distraction methods. “You’re not rich? Then what are we even doing here?”

Blaine grins and leans his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “There he is,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Kurt whispers back. “Here I am.”

They get off the bus together, and Kurt lets Blaine lead the way. He groans when they get close enough that he can see his mom and Puck waiting for them outside the garage.

“Christ,” Kurt says. “You’d think knowing this was coming all day long would have prepared me to see him, but no. I still feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Don’t worry,” Blaine says, slipping his hand into Kurt’s easily. “I won’t let him do anything.”

There are a thousand things Kurt could say to that, ranging from ‘how on earth will you stop him he is quite literally twice your size’ to ‘please never let go of my hand ever,’ but nothing feels right. Instead, he just squeezes Blaine’s hand, takes a deep breath, and puts on the bravest face he can.

“Hey,” he says when he gets close enough. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know. I already paid for my part.”

His mom looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Puck just glances down at where Kurt and Blaine are holding hands and rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with. The less time I have to be around here, the better.”

Burt Hummel is sitting behind the desk when they walk in, and Kurt’s heart jumps in his throat at the sight of him.

That’s his father.

It feels like a punch to the gut. He’s staring at his father. The man standing in front of him is his goddamn father.

And yet all of Kurt’s feelings toward him are still based entirely on the man’s relationship with Blaine.

He feels like he’s stepped outside of his body. Like everything is happening around him, not to him. Like he’s watching himself watch Burt, watching himself trying to feel that connection between them and coming up short.

Like he’s watching himself fall apart.

“Hey guys,” Burt greets Kurt and Blaine first, and then he turns to Kurt’s mom and says, “Quinn Fabray, as I live and breathe.”

He stands up and goes as though to hug her, but Puck gets in his way. “You come any closer, you won’t be doing either of those things.”

Burt raises an eyebrow and looks Puck over. “Noah, right?” he asks. “Charming as ever. Come on, I’ll show you the bike.”

He walks ahead of them. Quinn pulls Puck close and mutters a quiet, “Be nice.”

“Fuck that,” Puck whispers back. “Good for nothing punk. I can tell he still wants to fuck you.”

“Can you please be a fucking adult for one goddamn second of your—”

She’s cut off by Burt arriving with the bike. He starts to rattle off some technical mumbo-jumbo about what he fixed and how he fixed it that goes right over Kurt’s head. He’s focused instead on the way his mother is carrying herself. She’s making a clear effort not to make any bodily contact with Puck, arms wrapped around herself and continuously shifting her weight so she ends up further away from him.

Puck, on the other hand, looks like he could blow a gasket at any moment. Kurt has no idea if it’s because Quinn told him the truth, or because he’s just a jealous ass who still acts like a teenager.

“—including the new parts, it’ll come to about $1,500.”

“Whoa, what?!” Puck shouts, bringing Kurt back to reality. “What the fuck?! $1,500 to replace a couple of panels?!”

“This is a really expensive motorcycle, Mr. Puckerman,” Burt says. “The parts alone cost—”

“That’s insane. No, fuck no. I’m not fucking paying that.”

“Well, Kurt already paid his part, so—”

“So it should be cheaper,” Puck shouts. “You’re seriously telling me this broke asshole paid you $1,500? You think he’s got that kind of money lying around?!”

“Hey,” Quinn says. “Kurt works hard. He worked long hours this summer, and he’s good at saving. The $1,500 probably hurt him more than it’s going to hurt you.”

Kurt’s head is spinning, and he wants to cut in and ask what the fuck is happening, because he didn’t pay $1,500, Puck is right, he never could have paid $1,500, but…

But his mom glances at him and shakes her head. He looks up at Burt and the man sends him a covert wink.

Oh.

“This is bullshit,” Puck says. “You really think I’m just going to fork over almost two grand? No way.”

“Then I’m sorry, but I can’t release the bike back to you.”

“That’s theft, you piece of shit.”

Burt shrugs. “So is you trying to make off with parts that I paid for.”

Puck grumbles to himself, glaring between Burt, Quinn, and Kurt. Kurt is pretty sure that he’s trying to decide whether he should punch Burt in the face.

“You know what?” Puck finally shouts. “Fine. Fine! I’ll pay you your stupid goddamn overpriced—”

“Great,” Burt says. “Right this way.”

Puck ends up having to use three different credit cards to cover the payment. Kurt would love to know how the hell he got three credit cards approved, but decides it’s better not to know, as the answer is probably something illegal.

Puck grumbles under his breath the entire transaction, swearing loudly every time he has to switch a credit card.

Blaine stands beside Kurt the whole time, hand never leaving Kurt’s.

Finally, the payment is completed, and Puck hops on his bike and speeds away. Quinn watches him go, letting out a heavy breath that looks something shockingly similar to relief.

“Well, thank you,” Quinn says to Burt. “For fixing his bike.”

“Hey, no problem. It’s kind of my job.”

“Right,” she nods. “Well, I should go. I doubt he remembered his key, so he’ll probably be wanting to get into the apartment as soon as he gets there.”

Burt nods slowly. “Of course. But, hey, Quinn, I’d love to catch up sometime. You know, since our boys are such good—” he glances over to where Kurt and Blaine are still holding hands. He raises an eyebrow and then says, “Friends.”

“Sure,” Quinn says. “Kurt can give you my number sometime.”

“Or you could just—”

“Okay, I’m going to go,” Quinn says. She turns to Kurt and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Please come home soon,” she whispers. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too,” Kurt says, though keeps mum on the plea of returning. She knows as well as he does that he will not be moving back in to that apartment until Puck is officially moved out.

She kisses his cheek again, then heads to where her car is parked at the front of the garage, getting in without a look back.

“You sure you two are mad at each other?” Blaine asks as she leaves.

Kurt sighs, then replies with, “It’s complicated.” He looks down to his hand, fingers intertwined with Blaine’s. “I should probably go, too.” He says. “I feel so, just… emotionally drained.”

“Don’t blame you,” Burt cuts in, and Kurt turns to him, surprised that he’s still standing there. He’s giving Blaine a strange look, almost considering, but then he turns to Kurt and says, “But hey, before you go, can you answer me one question?” Kurt shrugs, so Burt asks, “How the literal hell is your mother still with that asshole after all these years?”

“Whoa!” Blaine exclaims.

“Oh, like you weren’t thinking it,” Burt replies. Blaine blushes and looks away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Seriously, Kurt. Why is she still with him?”

“You know, Burt,” Kurt says, the man’s name feeling so strange on his tongue now. “I legitimately have no idea.”

“Fucking dick,” Burt grumbles, shaking his head. “Guy like that has no reason to hang around a girl like her, taking advantage. Son of a bitch.”

“Calm down there, sailor,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you hate the swearing,” Burt says. “No idea how you hang around this one so much, then,” he points at Kurt.

Blaine huffs. “That’s different. He’s not my fa—”

He stops himself, entire face turning bright red. Kurt can see a smile beginning to light up Burt’s face, and suddenly feels like he’s imposing on a really private and personal moment between the two men.

“It’s just different, that’s all,” Blaine finishes, face even redder than before.

“Right,” Burt says, full-out grinning now. “I’ll try to keep it in check from now on, okay?”

“Thank you,” Blaine mumbles, looking firmly at the ground.

“Right, well, anyway,” Kurt says, a little too loudly. “I should get going. Finn should be back from school by now, and he’ll want to know every last detail about this shit show.”

“Of course,” Burt says. “Hey, you want a ride? I’m supposed to be closed by now anyway.”

“No, it’s okay,” Kurt says. “Thanks for staying open late for us, though.”

“My pleasure,” Burt says. “I’m just glad you don’t have to worry about this anymore, son.”

Kurt’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach at that word.

He shouldn’t feel this way, right? Every time Finn had called him son in the past, his heart always leapt in his chest. He felt a joy at hearing that word from Finn, but now with Burt, his actual father…

“Me too,” he replies, hoping not to reveal any of his inner turmoil. “Anyway. I’m going to go.”

Blaine finally lets go of his hand, but only to wrap him up in a hug. “Text me when you get to Finn and Rachel’s, okay?” he asks.

Kurt nods against his neck, then pulls away. “I promise,” he says.

“See you around, kid,” Burt says, patting him on the shoulder.

Kurt heads out at that, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Before he leaves the garage, he turns one last time. He doesn’t know what he hopes to see; maybe Blaine staring at him longingly?

Instead what he sees is Burt smiling down at Blaine, a hand on his shoulder, the joy Kurt wishes he felt at seeing Burt shining in his eyes and reflected in Blaine’s.

Despite everything, he smiles. He knows everything is a goddamn mess, but right now he can be happy for Blaine. Right now, he can ignore the fact that his mere existence may ruin whatever budding father-son relationship Burt and Blaine may have. Right now, all that matters is that Blaine looks happier than Kurt thinks he’s ever seen him.

Chapter Sixteen

[everyonesaysiloveyourp]

BIRTHDATE: 18 December 1995

OCCUPATION: Self-employed; proprietor of Baked Berries, an online vegan bakery

COLLEGE ATTENDED: Columbus State Community College - Baking and Pastry Arts Associate Degree

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

PERSONALITY IN HS: Intense and naive with a penchant for being overbearing and persistent. Having been homeschooled for the first thirteen years of her life, Rachel’s initial knowledge of certain social mores can be lacking and often results in self-conscious feelings and -doubt. She can also push buttons with constant questioning and seemingly never-ending talking, but her intentions are always good, and at the heart of it all, she just wants to acceptance.

PERSONALITY IN THE PRESENT: With age comes maturity and also some mellowing. While Rachel can still be intense and persistence, such traits have been honed toward making her successful in her growing business. 

ROMANTICS PLOT: One Night Stand

Having children wasn’t ever part of Leroy and Hiram Berry’s life plan, though neither was returning to Ohio. But Hiram’s parents wanted to retire to Florida and when they asked him to move home to take care of the farm, he felt obligated to indulge their request since they had taken care of him most of his life. While unpacking boxes in his childhood home, Hiram came across his growth chart – his mother meticulously measured every six months – on the back of the pantry door, and it was like being bit by a bug. He started nesting, and soon enough had Leroy on board, and eighteen months later Rachel Barbra came home.

Now the Liebowitz family farm wasn’t a huge operation. On an unincorporated lot of Allen county land the farm was a mix between hobby and self-sufficiency with the potential for supplementary income, so Hiram didn’t need to stay home, but when Rachel arrived he didn’t have a desire to return to a daily 9-5 grind. Leroy was happy enough to bring home the metaphorical bacon, and for someone who didn’t even think he’d ever have a child, Hiram reveled in the role of a stay-at-home dad. From sunrise to sunset, Rachel was his shadow, his mini-me. She toddled along for daily chores, sat in his lap for tea parties and story time, and provided nightly performances – from pots and pans percussion to silly songs – during dinner prep. And every six months, Hiram would mark Rachel’s height along the back of the pantry door.

When it came time for Rachel to start school, Hiram contacted the superintendent with his intent to home school. It was what he had been doing for the past two years, starting when Rachel had initially shown an interest in learning to read at age three. He didn’t see a point in changing their routine, and honestly Rachel didn’t know any different. Her dads were her best friends, along with her animals, and there was Noah, too, but she only saw him on Saturdays at Temple. So each morning she’d wake up and help clean stalls and do morning feedings, and then she’d settle in at the kitchen table for daily lessons.

A different lesson became a defining moment in Rachel’s young life when her fathers thought she was old enough to learn and fully understand the circle of life. However, rather than being understanding about sending one of their Jersey cows off to slaughter, Rachel was horrified and refused to eat dinner that night with bite-sized of pieces of steak on her plate. From that day forward, she became – after hours of googling and researching and at times having to ask her Daddy to explain things – a vegan. And since Lima was filled with carnivores and dietary items in stores, let alone restaurants, were hard to come by, Rachel’s knowledge of and love for all things culinary began. Soon enough their farm included an extensive vegetable garden, and where storybooks used to line shelves, soon cook books and how-to’s took their place.  

And just as Rachel’s knowledge of the world grew, so did her desire to spend time with fellow peers. Though she could have always gone into town and participated in after school activities, Rachel never asked, but mostly because she didn’t know they existed. She was happy at home, but now Noah would talk about football and school events like dances where everyone just stood around in circles, and Rachel wanted to experience that. She logically laid out her argument for wanting to attend public school to her fathers, and they agreed she was old enough to make her own decisions. They assumed they’d be enrolling her in the eighth grade as that was technically where she belonged, but on paper and academically it was determined that ninth grade would be a better fit. Her parents were rightfully concerned that Rachel would be out of her element and overwhelmed with all the changes, but ever the outward optimist, Rachel insisted that she would be fine. She was smart, academically advanced, and Noah had promised to look out for her.

Which he did, even when other students would call her weird or strange, make fun of her dads, or concoct ridiculous stories as to why Rachel was home schooled in the first place. Noah was always at Rachel’s side to offer a protective arm, a sneer or glare, and to do his best to help her fit in. It was how Rachel was introduced and eventually became a part of The Romantics, and how she met Quinn. Rachel won Quinn Fabray over by killing her with kindness, refusing to be put off by feigned eye rolls of annoyance, and gradually tearing down the walls Quinn always seemed to have built up around her. And the person beyond the walls and underneath the masks? Rachel thought she was not only one of the greatest people to walk the earth, but the prettiest, too, and was over the moon when their friendship flourished to best friend levels.

Because best friends hung out all the time, walked to class together, had sleepovers, and shared their hopes and dreams and desires, and especially their secrets. Rachel thought that perhaps one of Quinn’s secrets that she wasn’t quite yet willing to share was that she liked Rachel as more than a friend and that the hugs that lasted longer than normal, the kisses on the cheek, the friendly handholds were all just hints and clues, but that Quinn was simply too afraid to make the first move. So one summer night before senior year, Rachel decided she could be the brave one, that she could have enough courage – and liquid courage at that – for the both of them, and boldly kissed Quinn. Confirming her suspicions – and her hopes and dreams and desires – Quinn kissed Rachel back. But fueled by alcohol and lust, they didn’t stop at just kissing, and by the time they fell asleep in each other’s arms, Rachel had given Quinn a special part of herself she could never get back, along with her heart.

But just as Rachel learned all the things that best friends did together, she learned the hard way that they don’t kiss, and especially don’t sleep together, because the morning after, Quinn yelled and threatened, and forced Rachel out of her home. Senior year was supposed to be their year, but instead Rachel started it feeling rejected, used, and without a best friend by her side, more than a little broken. It was a bit like freshman year all over again. While Rachel still had her friends, she once again didn’t feel like she fit. She missed Quinn and was lonely, so Rachel filled the emptiness with cooking and baking, and planning for her future because it had to be brighter than the life she was currently living.

And it was because Rachel, even if they no longer involved Quinn, still had hopes and dreams and desires, as well as the tenacity to pursue them and make them come true, and attending Columbus State was the first step. More than financially feasible and with a commute that allowed her to live at home and save, Rachel had her Associate’s degree after four semesters (and a summer term) as well as a boyfriend. While dropping off a cake for a wedding, Rachel met Jesse St. James, the singer for the event. He found her oddities endearing, and rather than being put off by his narcissism, Rachel was charmed.

While their romance was a bit of a whirlwind, it was Jesse, rather than a tornado, who was the catalyst for Rachel packing up her belongings and moving across the country to the Emerald City. But even after their eventual breakup, Rachel had no desire to click her heels three times and return home, because Seattle was home now. She and Jesse managed to figure out how to not only remain friends, but also live together, and rather than complain about the small business that Rachel began to run out of their kitchen, he offered a helping hand (and a good palate for taste-testing).

Initially running on nothing but blind faith and word of mouth, the success of Baked Berries, Rachel’s online vegan bakery, has steadily grown over the past two years with a loyal clientele and partnerships with local shops. But Rachel has her eyes on a bigger prize, especially now that she has nearly enough capital to make the dream of a brick and mortar shop a reality. She just has to get through a road trip reunion first, and deal with the feelings she’s sure will be stirred up by seeing all her high school friends, and especially Quinn, once again. And since she’s left Jesse and Mike, a recent hire, hire in charge while she’s gone, Rachel just hopes the business is still thriving by the time she returns home.

CONNECTIONS

QUINN FABRAY: Former best friends. A drunken hookup the summer before senior year causes Quinn to panic and push Rachel away and freeze her out. They remain ‘friends’ on a surface level, forcing polite interaction when the whole group gets together, otherwise they ignore each other, and the rejection, though Rachel’s tried her best not to think about Quinn since graduation, still stings to this day.

NOAH PUCKERMAN: Good friends. Having known one another since they were young things attending Temple, Rachel credits Noah as the sole force behind her initially being tolerated by and eventually taken into the fold of The Romantics. They’ve remained close since graduation, with Rachel sending Puck letters and sweets while he was deployed, and updating each other on their lives.