Get with the times

Alex Kadi Ashlyn We post drabbles and stuff. Writings

[akadrabbles]

Grow Old With You -- The Wedding Singer

 "So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink 

Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink 

Oh I could be the man that grows old with you 

I wanna grow old with you."

“Do you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, take Blaine Michael Anderson for your lawfully wedded husband, until death do you part?”

“Yes, yes, I do!”

“And do you, Blaine Michael Anderson, take Kurt Elizabeth Hummel for your lawfully wedded husband, until death do you part?”

“I do! Of course!”

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, Blaine! It’s perfect! Don’t you think it’s perfect?” Kurt gushes, flitting from room to room, his face alight with joy.

Blaine smiles, standing near the front door as Kurt takes it all in.

“Yeah. It is. And it’s ours, Kurt. No more stuffy, small apartment.” Kurt beams and rushes in to Blaine’s open arms. They’re both laughing but tears are steadily creeping up on the pair.

“I love it. I love you.” Kurt mutters, pulling back and leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. Blaine gives him a chaste kiss and replies, “Come on, our house isn’t going to clean itself.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shelter is buzzing with activity. Dogs are barking wildly, enthralled by the strangers playing with them. Even the cats seem to be interested in all of the commotion, stretching as they wake from their afternoon naps.

“How about him?”

“I don’t know, Blaine…he’s adorable but…”

“He just doesn’t feel right?”

“Exactly. How about her?”

“She’s friendly! Oh. Nevermind.”

Kurt sighs, rights himself from the strange position he was in while playing with the dogs. It took a lot of convincing from Blaine, and sort of Finn, before Kurt agreed on a dog. He just wasn’t a dog person; they were messy and noisy. Still, even he couldn’t deny that a dog would give their new home that homey feeling. But they’ve been at it for an hour and neither Blaine nor Kurt has found a dog that speaks to them. Kurt’s ready to give up and he turns to Blaine to say so when something catches his eye.

“Oh, Blaine. There he is.” Blaine’s at his side immediately and Kurt can hear his breath hitch, “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

He’s a five year old golden lab and he’s the only dog not barking its head off. Instead, he’s curled up in the corner and his big, brown, sad, eyes are watching every step the couple takes. As they get closer, his tail begins to thump rhythmically and he lifts his head ever so slightly, as if cautious to allow contact.

“He’s been here the longest,” the owner interrupts suddenly, “Poor thing just can’t get adopted. No one wants him because he’s too old or he isn’t friendly enough. But he’s been through so much that I’m not surprised he’s so untrustworthy. His first owner did nothing but beat him with a cane because he was the runt of the litter. He was different.”

“No,” Kurt cuts him off, squatting next to Blaine and looking straight at the lab, “No, he’s perfect. We want him.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Anderson, It’s Daisy, your papers have been inspected. You’ve passed. Everything is done and Ellen is ready to come home with you. Congratulations!”

Blaine stumbles back, hears Kurt’s audible gasp from the doorway, and turns.

“Did you...you heard, right?” Blaine asks. He has to grab the kitchen island to steady himself.

Kurt’s crying and there’s this look on this face that Blaine can’t describe but somehow knows exactly what his husband is feeling.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

And suddenly Blaine and Kurt are laughing and whooping and Kurt’s crying and Blaine is barely holding it together.

“Parents, Kurt! We’re going to be parents!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The call comes at three in the morning. Kurt is up in an instant.

“Kurt! It’s Johnny! It’s happening! She’s having the baby! We’re heading to the hospital right now!”

Kurt has already jostled Blaine awake and doesn’t even have to say a word. Blaine is already up and grabbing everything they had prepared for this.

“We’re on our way right now Johnny! Tell Ellen that! Ellen, baby, we’re coming! Your dads are coming!”

A string of colorful curses answers him and Johnny tells him he has to go before Ellen kills him for driving and talking.

At 9:37a.m., Dean Harris Young, is born and Blaine and Kurt waste no time in spoiling their grandbaby.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

At 70, Kurt Hummel-Anderson is still relatively thin but he’s a fair shot from the Nationals Winning Cheerio he used to be. (If his left hip has anything to say about it.) Soft white- gray hair has replaced his once precious brown locks, which no longer stay perfectly styled, and, while still fashionable, he has long since parted with his skinny jeans and knee high boots.

Blaine Hummel-Anderson, at 69, is in a similar state as his husband. His own head of curls are more of silvery wisps now, though he is nowhere near bald. His eyes, still warm and brown, are now framed by glasses, the only way Blaine can see much of anything now. Of course, his stash of bowties is still very much timeless.

Kurt shakily lies next to Blaine, who sets his papers and glasses aside to give Kurt his full attention. They don’t speak for many moments, opting instead to just lose themselves in each other’s eyes.

Suddenly Kurt speaks, “I’m tired, Blaine.”

“Take a nap.” Blaine replies but he isn’t stupid. He knows what Kurt meant, knows that feeling very well. Kurt searches Blaine’s eyes again and Blaine is unexpectedly hit by a mirage of images: their first time, graduation, their stuffy apartment, their first house, adopting Ellen, playing with Dean. It all hits him so fast and he can tell by the look in Kurt’s own cerulean eyes that he sees just what Blaine does.

Kurt smiles, scoots in closer to Blaine and grabs his hand, “I’m tired, Blaine.” “I know Kurt. Me too.” Blaine replies, lying his head on Kurt’s and closing his eyes.

“I love you Blaine Michael Anderson.”

“I love you Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.”

[akadrabbles]

Love The Way You Lie ; Eminem ft. Rihanna 

Kurt examined himself in the mirror. His skin was pale, white contrasting with the multicolored bruise he sported on his shoulder. The ice pack had slipped down, and he studied the reflection of the edge; the very tip was a sickly yellow that tinged the awful dark colors that were spread lower on his arm. Feeling sick, he slid the ice pack up to completely cover the bruise again, a mixture of sweat and condensation running off down his forearm and wrist. He had come to the bathroom to brush his hair one last time, but was faced with the problem of holding the ice pack in place. Really, the matter would only take a few seconds, but what stopped Kurt was the sickening thing beneath the pack. He didn't want to see it. Didn't really care to acknowledge it. With a deep sigh, he resolved to just face the thing, and quickly placed the ice on the counter, revealing the large, ugly bruise. It was a grotesque irregular shape, and perhaps looking even worse than it had moments before. The array of colors would have led him to believe it was some detached piece of abstract art had it not ached each time he moved his arm, especially when he cringed at the sight of it. He wondered if he should pay the doctor a visit. Dismissing the thought, he hurriedly combed through his hair and returned the ice pack to its former position.

In the kitchen, he encountered Blaine, who stood looking around at nothing in disbelief and shame. He rested back against the counter, if it could be considered that. His muscles were tense, his jaw was clenched.. It took him a moment to realize Kurt stood in the doorway. His eyes flicked toward him, and he cringed. "Kurt--"

"Never thought our relationship would become an abusive one," Kurt remarked, his voice light, but wavering.

Blaine crossed the room quickly and took Kurt firmly by the shoulders. His anger melted, leaving sadness in his eyes Kurt didn't care for. "Listen," he said, looking him straight in the eye. "You know I didn't mean for that to happen. Right?" His voice was low, demanding, but not mean. Upset.

"Blaine, please, stop apologizing. It's nothing," Kurt assured him, trying to make light of the situation. He offered a chuckle, but it was unconvincing; even with the assistance of the ice, his arm continued to throb, and a sharp gasp cut of the laugh as his stance shifted.

There was pain and anger remaining in Blaine's eyes as he stepped away. He held Kurt's gaze as he walked to a nearby cabinet, reached inside, and dug out a small white bottle. He almost tossed it, but caught himself. Instead he opened the bottle, poured two pills in his palm, and firmly placed them in Kurt's.

"They'll help. Even though I wish I could do something to..."

"Blaine. I'm just fine," Kurt promised, popping the painkillers in his mouth as Blaine prepared him a glass of water. He almost made another joke, but reconsidered. The last one had done nothing more to persuade Blaine that it was only a bruise, and bruises would heal.

The doorbell rang twice, followed immediately by three sharp raps on the door, excited and impatient. There were only two people it could be, and they weren't expecting Rachel. Kurt pulled the sleeve of his jacket down and discarded the ice, hoping that their guest didn't question his choice of clothing, considering it was one of the hottest summers Lima had ever seen. He made his way cautiously to the couch, trying his best not to wince while doing so.

"Cooper!" Blaine announced politely from the doorway. From his seat on the couch, Kurt waved, smiled wide, and beckoned Blaine's brother inside, praying that this visit wouldn't be a long one. Since Cooper and Blaine had resolved to amend their brotherly issues, Cooper had been by Blaine's house much more often, much to Blaine's appreciation, but much more to his annoyance. Most times, they still found fault with each other, but at least they were working hard at repairing their relationship.

The visit seemed to be going well, but after twenty minutes of conversation, Cooper asked to see Blaine in the kitchen. The request was abrupt and unexpected. Kurt's heart raced, wondering what the man had to say in private about him, and Blaine felt nauseous with worry.

After making certain that the kitchen door was closed completely, Cooper made no move to wonder aimlessly around the topic. "What's wrong with Kurt?" His voice sounded slightly accusing. Or maybe Blaine was just paranoid. As he watched Cooper cross his arms, he tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. He willed himself to think of a convincing response, but the vague question left him with none except "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, what’s going on. Why’s Kurt wearing a fleece in the middle of June? He looks completely terrified of something. He keeps glancing at you, Blaine. I know you have something to do with it!" Cooper’s voice was heavy with emotion, but Blaine couldn't help but wonder if it was genuine or an excuse for drama. The index finger pointing at him, demanding answers, made him consider strongly the latter.

He sighed. "Kurt's been sick--" he began quietly.

"Okay!" Kurt cried, bursting into the kitchen with such force the door slammed into Cooper's back, causing him to stumble out of the way and into the table. Kurt, preoccupied with removing his jacket, failed to notice. He tried his best to wiggle out of the designer clothing while moving his right arm as little as possible. The whole affair was a difficult one, and, for Kurt, very infuriating, as well.

Blaine, transfixed by the situation, took a moment to respond. "Kurt!" he cried. "What--What are you doing?!"

"If he wants to know what's going on then I'll show him! Makes no difference to me! I don't care. Think about us how you like and say what you want, but I'll tell you the truth and--" Kurt paused, tugging hard on the sleeve. "This...thing...is...!" With a final furiously pull, Kurt yanked the jacket off and allowed it to fall onto the floor. "There," he panted, turning so that Cooper could observe the colorful marking.

Blaine did nothing but stare in shock at Kurt’s actions.

"You... How'd this...?" Cooper asked quietly, stepping closer to examine the bruise.

"It isn't what you think," Blaine began cautiously. "Just let us explain."

Cooper wore a grim expression as he continued to stare at Kurt's arm. "Blaine, this time, I really am disappointed in you. And in you, Kurt, for hiding this. You should have told me outright that you needed help."

"Help?" Blaine and Kurt echoed in unison.

"Of course," Cooper sighed, hanging his head. "It's clear that you're being physically abused by your boyfriend, Kurt, and that"--Cooper wildly directed an accusatory finger at Blaine--"is unacceptable."

Blaine swallowed. "So what, Cooper. So what are you going to do about it. Because last time I checked, you weren't involved in our relationship. This is our problem to sort out. We have our ups and downs, okay? Same as everyone else does! It's just something you have to deal with if you’re gonna be with someone else."

"Blaine's right," Kurt quietly agreed. "It's just something everyone goes through. Blaine handles his anger in a different way, but... I love him too much to let him go." He paused, staring at Blaine, before continuing. "Not everyone understands it. But it's just the way this relationship works. No offense, Cooper, but we don't need a third opinion. It's already difficult enough with two of us getting into disagreements."

Cooper's eyes grew wide in disbelief, his mouth hanging open slightly as his gaze alternated between the two boys.

There was a pause, then an eruption of laughter between Kurt and Blaine, abrupt and unexpected and unreasonable. Cooper looked appalled. He didn't understand why the two boys had laughed for so long, until finally they began speaking coherently. Even then, their words were mixed with fits of laughter, and often trailed off into more.

Blaine: "Got you! Finally got you back after all this... time..."

Then Kurt would pitch in, saying, "Ah... when... boxing... he--he--I..." but his attempted explanations did nothing to help.

The in would be Blaine’s turn again. “We got into character and everything!”

Those two were practically howling at some great humor unknown to Cooper.

So he sat, not amused in the least and still somewhat suspicious. Finally, the boys calmed down enough to tell him the full story. How Blaine had been boxing when Kurt snuck up behind him, taking a blow to the shoulder. From there, it turned into a huge, dramatic production, centered around getting the best of Cooper Anderson.

"So you believed us, see," Blaine said, a large smile on his face, "meaning we're good actors. Guess we don't need to take advice from you, after all."

"You should have seen your face!" Kurt wailed.

Ten more minutes, and Cooper was on the road again. The thought of Blaine acting in such a horrible manner, and poor Kurt being punished had nearly given him a heart attack. He glanced in the rearview mirror, wondering about the minimum age for grey hair to appear, and decided that a few phone calls to his little brother would hold him over until the next time he was prepared to be so drastically outwitted. 

[akadrabbles]

For our one follower.

We're still alive.

We're all just extremely lazy. 

Hopefully more posts will be coming tomorrow.

[akadrabbles]

Good Girls Go Bad -- Cobra Starship

"Just take a bite, 

Let me shake up your world."

Dalton Academy Reform School was notorious for dealing with, what they deemed, the troubled kids. The teachers and parents considered the students misfits: kids who refused to conform to rules and who lived to make everyone’s life horribly messy and dangerous. They couldn’t be fixed but maybe they could be tamed.

The students of Dalton considered themselves as rebels of sorts. They didn’t think they should have to conform to societies norms; nobody could tell them who they should be and how they should act. They were put in a reform school only because they protested, loudly, about the unfairness of it all and any other details of their detainment were deemed irrelevant.

Blaine Anderson considered himself broken, the result of a crappy home life, one too many broken hearts, and two too many slurs on his sexuality. He didn’t care about the rules because they didn’t protect him from getting beaten to a pulp at the Sadie Hawkins’s Dance. He didn’t care about people’s feelings because they never cared about his and look where he is now. And screw trying to impress anyone because that only ever leads to disappointment on both ends.

He was the only Dalton student to make a name for himself within a week of school. Admittedly, not all of the names were pleasant but Blaine could care less what others called him anyway. The only students in the school he actually liked he met in the schools most infamous group, The Warblers. Everyone knew of it and everyone wanted in it but it was rare for the group to accept new people. Which is why it came as a surprise to everyone that shortly after Blaine’s induction, the group eagerly accepted another addition.

Kurt Hummel, simply put, was an enigma. For the most part, he kept to himself. He never mouthed off, never argued with anyone, always turned his work in, and somehow found a way to actually make the teachers like him. He was a breath of fresh air to the teachers, an outcast to the students, a wonder to the Warblers, and a total mystery to Blaine.   

The first time they met, Blaine had just finished telling his World History teacher what everyone thought but never bothered to say. The man was an idiot, point blank, and Blaine was only doing him a favor in telling him. Still, he got sent to the office, his second dorm room, and, lo and behold, standing in front of the secretary’s desk was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.

At that point in time, Kurt hadn’t even spared him a glance. The most beautiful boy Blaine had ever seen was also the most innocent boy he had ever seen and stood strong in his conviction to ‘not mess around with juvenile delinquents’. (“What are you then? A poster boy for wrong place, wrong time?”)

It had taken a few months after that little incident to get Kurt to talk to him again. One talk over coffee had shifted a few barriers between them and suddenly Blaine had someone that made him feel like the Blaine before the Sadie Hawkins’s dance, when he didn’t feel like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Kurt, unsurprisingly, became Blaine’s best friend and a member of the Warblers but still retained some sense of who he was. He still got great marks in class and the teachers, though slightly more uneasy with his new buddies, still loved Kurt. He still seemed to be the most innocent boy at Dalton.

And yet, suddenly, Kurt found he could put up with Blaine’s lewd remarks and his leather jackets and his one night stands. He no longer flinched at every curse that flowed out of Blaine’s mouth and, though the Warblers were all still insane, he found himself excited to be a part of the group and wanting to join in on their late night rendezvouses and pranks. He didn’t care about the rules as much, only keeping up with the teachers and his work to please his dad, because, above anything, Kurt did care about his father and he didn’t want to disappoint him too much more. He liked Dalton. He liked the students and the teachers and the Warblers.

And he liked Blaine. He liked Blaine’s witty remarks and he liked when Blaine teased Wes about his gavel love. He liked Blaine’s voice and his hazel eyes and his, seemingly permanent, smirk. He likedBlaine’s flirty winks- only when directed at Kurt himself though- and his ever present need to jump on furniture. He liked how protective Blaine got when Kurt mentioned Karofsky or any of his past tormentors.

Most of all, Kurt liked how it felt the first time Blaine kissed him, just after Kurt had stuttered out a messy confession, and how Blaine gave up his promiscuous ways because he just knew Kurt was the one thing he had gotten right and he refused to mess that up.

Blaine Anderson considered himself broken but Kurt Hummel knew he just needed a bit of fine tuning.

[akadrabbles]

The Distance ; Hot Chelle Rae

And just so you know

The distance is what's killing me

Time and space have become the enemy

And what I need is so far away

Kurt stepped inside the coffee shop. He scanned the crowded room, searching for someone of smaller build, dark hair and perhaps some sort of extravagant clothing, before realizing that this was not the Lima Bean, or Lima at all, for that matter. The very thought made his heart beat faster; it hadn't yet been two full months since he'd finally acquired his dream life, and the idea of it still sent shivers of excitement up and down his spine. The feelings stopped short at contentment and fulfillment, however, leaving one element noticeably missing from his lifelong goal. It was the same boy he'd been seeking, clearly absent from both his life and this coffee shop, and it showed.

After receiving his order, Kurt chose a seat near a window and observed the busy street. Still in awe at the beautiful city, he snapped a picture of a nearby skyscraper and sent it to Blaine, Finn, and his father. Finn gave a simple, monosyllabic response: Cool!, Burt asked Kurt how things were going, and Blaine didn't reply. Kurt was in the process of resending the message to him when he remembered: Blaine was still in school. Fervently wishing things were different, Kurt discarded his coffee and headed back home.

                                      __________________________________

  "Got you picture from today. It looked great."

Kurt chuckled. "Well that is the view from our seat, you know."

Blaine paused, still smiling slightly. "Wait, we have a seat?"

Kurt smiled. "Of course. Once you're here with me, that's the seat we'll sit at every time we go and get coffee, and that's the view we'll look at."

"I'm already staring at the only view I want to look at, coffee shop or not."

Kurt blushed and shook his head as Blaine burst into laughter at his own cheesy line.

"Well, as much as I'd love to hear the rest of your attempts at being romantic, it's getting pretty late," Kurt said, bringing the hour-long conversation to a close. "Say goodnight to Ohio for me?"

"Goodnight, Ohio," Blaine called out to no one. "I would ask you to do the same to New York for me, but saying goodnight to the city that never sleeps is a bit redundant, don't you think?"

"Goodnight Blaine, love you."

"Goodnight Kurt, love you too. Hey Kurt! Wait!"

"Hm?"

"You hang up first."

"I'm not playing this game. Besides, we aren't on phones."

"Oh, right. Then... you close Skype first!"

"Goodnight, Blaine."

"'Night Kurt, I'll see you tomorrow."

                                      __________________________________

The next night, Kurt had settled down in front of his computer for his daily video chat with Blaine. The day had been a particularly rough one without his boyfriend, and he was more than ready to see his face. More than anything, he wished he could be with him, but his first visit to New York wasn't until another three weeks, during Fall Break. Kurt willed time to go faster, but doing that only seemed to slow it down, as if it were mocking his and Blaine's separation.

Kurt snapped to attention when a notification appeared onscreen, addressing Blaine's request to talk.

"Three and a half minutes late, tsk tsk!" Kurt said, shaking his head in mock dissatisfaction. He examined the background. Rather than his bedroom, which was the usual, Kurt viewed a beige wall, and heard what sounded like a large group of people.

"Sorry, their WiFi is a bit unstable," Blaine apologized.

"Out at the Lima Bean?" Kurt asked, noticing the cup of coffee Blaine held.

Blaine shrugged. "Out to get coffee."

Kurt frowned in confusion. "Why at night, though?"

"Because, it looks even better at night." Blaine proceeded to turn the laptop around on the table before Kurt could ask what he meant. What Kurt thought to be the coffee shop he frequented blurred past, but he wasn't sure. The picture stopped and focused on the skyscraper that had entranced him the day before, now illuminated with bright lights and flanked at both corners by New York traffic. "Our view."

The weight of Blaine’s words suddenly hit Kurt: ’Night Kurt, I’ll see you tomorrow. Kurt pulled on his coat and grabbed his wallet, not even caring to question why Blaine had suddenly come to visit him. He knew better than to say anything when Blaine was trying to be spontaneous and fun, after all. He left his computer on as he rushed out of the apartment, leaving it up to Blaine, laughing quietly with joy, to close Skype first.

[akadrabbles]

Behind These Hazel Eyes

Behind These Hazel Eyes

Kelly Clarkson

  Broken up, deep inside, but you won't get to see the tears I cry, behind these hazel eyes

        -------------------------------------------------------------------

8:47am

Where are you?

9:24am

Hello?

9:31am

You can't just skip school and then not text your boyfriend, Blaine.

9:35am

But seriously, where are you?

9:39am

Is your phone off or something? 

9:50am

Are you ignoring me?

11:13am

I just spent the rest of English getting scolded about the usage of cell phones during school hours, Anderson.   

11:44am

This isn't funny anymore.

12:00pm

Please text me back, you're freaking me out.

12:23pm

Blaine Anderson, I swear, if you don't text me back within the next hour, I'm coming to your house.

1:07pm

I'm getting in my car now.

1:48pm

            Kurt pulls into Blaine's driveway extremely annoyed and more than slightly concerned. His worries diminish to some extent at the sight of Blaine's car, the only one present, parked in front of the house, but he stills steps out of his Navigator preparing for the worst.

Kurt isn't angry about skipping half of his classes (though, if his father found out, someone would be) or even missing Glee practice, because he knows Blaine. And he knows Blaine to be faithful to punctuality and optimal attendance. This notion only being broken under the most special of circumstances. And, if that were the case, Blaine would always always notify Kurt in some way, shape, or form.

So eleven unanswered text messages and six hours later, Kurt thought it was only sensible to intervene.

He lets himself in; Blaine's parents don't seem to be home and Blaine himself usually doesn't mind. Although, if Kurt ever feels a time that this action is intrusive, it’s now, when the house feels so empty and unwelcoming.

As he closes the door, Kurt hears shuffling upstairs, "Blaine?" To this, he hears more muffled noises, so he makes his way to Blaine's bedroom.

Upon climbing the stairs and reaching the door to his boyfriend's room, Kurt calls out again, but the house has gone still with silence once more. Kurt gently knocks on the bedroom door. "Blaine, please, I'm worried about you."

After several moments the doors opens, but only slightly, perhaps an inch or so. Kurt hears a tired sigh from the other side. "Why aren't you in school, Kurt?"

Kurt tries his best not to acknowledge the edge in Blaine's voice. It's a tone he's heard so rarely, and yet is much too familiar with. Blaine's voice sounds strained and overwhelmed. Defeated. 

Kurt gives a sad smile that the other boy couldn't see, "Isn’t that my line?” Blaine doesn't respond, so Kurt decides another angle. "Will you let me in?"

Nothing changes. The moment drags on for so long that Kurt is afraid that Blaine will decline him, but the door finally slides open. The hazel-eyed boy has already distanced himself from Kurt, and his back is turned to the countertenor as he busies himself with something on his desk. "You shouldn't have cut class just because of me." He says simply.

"Well it isn't much like you to skip school and ignore my texts." Kurt says in response.

He and Blaine had only been dating for several months, and Kurt can count on a single hand how many times he’s seen Blaine Anderson anything close to emotional, so when Blaine turns to him with an apology on his lips, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, Kurt can't bring himself to regret his decision to come here in the least. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

Blaine looks away from him just as quickly, breathing in deeply. "Kurt, now really isn't the best time."

In that sentence, Kurt realizes how hard Blaine has worked to keep this side to himself, the broken and damaged part that he never lets show. Kurt has seen him try to maintain this courageous, gentlemanly sort of stature for so long, even though Kurt readily accepts, and loves, every part of Blaine, blemishes and all. Apparently he hasn’t been clear enough up to this point.

With a sigh, Kurt takes his boyfriend's hand and leads him to the bed. Kurt crosses his legs and sits down, patting the spot across from him until Blaine follows. They sit face to face, but Blaine refuses to look Kurt in the eye.

"You are far from perfect, Blaine Anderson."

Despite his earlier qualms, the shorter boy's head whips up. He looks far more stricken than he did when Kurt first entered the room. And now they’re on a completely different subject all together, diverging far from the original reason Kurt arrived here, but perhaps far more important.

     Kurt continues, "And I don't expect you to be. I never have." Blue eyes meet hazel as Kurt takes both of Blaine's hands in his. "I want you to know that, okay? No matter what. No matter how much you feel you have to stay strong for me or how much you want to hide your flaws or anything. Just know that." 

    With a deep breath and a tighter grip, Kurt carries on, "In this past year, you've done so much for me, Blaine. I've admired you, your strength, your passion since the day I met you. That will never change, even if I see the cracks in your shining armor.” He finishes with a watery laugh.

            Blaine stares at him, eyes shining with tears, and whispers, “I just want to make you proud.”

            Kurt pulls the other boy to him until their foreheads are pressed together. “You are easily the most oblivious boy I have ever met if you think for even a second that I’m not proud of you, Blaine Anderson. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for me to respect and admire someone more than I do you. I can’t believe you would even begin to doubt that.”

            Blaine closes his eyes and finally allows himself a smile. “I love you, Kurt Hummel. More than anything.”

            Kurt hasn’t yet reached the root of the problem, no. But he was making progress, if only little by little. One step at a time. He thinks as he leans forward to press his lips against the hazel-eyed boy’s.

[akadrabbles]

We Are Young - Fun.

"So, if by the time the bar closes

and you feel like falling down, 

I'll carry you home, tonight."

“I’m sorry for trying to be spontaneous and fun.”

“Blaine!”

Kurt yells in frustration, watching helplessly as his drunken boyfriend stumbles away. He’s angry at Blaine for trying to push him, for getting mad when Kurt said no, but he knows the reason Blaine is walking away from him now is nothing but shame.

Kurt could see it in Blaine’s hazel eyes, the moment when his boyfriend realized what he was doing, how he was making Kurt feel. Instead of apologizing and owning up to what he did, Blaine had chosen to walk away, unable to face Kurt any longer.

For a brief moment, Kurt considers allowing Blaine to walk all the way home. The thought is trash in the next instant though. Kurt would worry himself silly all night and he would never forgive himself if something happened to Blaine as a result of one, stupid fight between them.

With an aggravated sigh, Kurt jumps in his car and quickly pulls out of the bar. He tries calling Blaine but his boyfriends’ phone goes straight to voicemail.

Kurt is either being ignored or Blaine’s’ phone is dead. For once, Kurt hopes Blaine is ignoring him. The thought of his boyfriend being without a phone this late at night doesn’t help his already agitated nerves.

For being drunk, Blaine apparently managed to walk a good distance. Kurt is almost worried he was too late, that something had already happened to Blaine, but then he sees him, ambling along the side of the road with his hands in his pockets and his head downcast. Kurt pulls up a little farther ahead of Blaine and leans over to open the passenger door.

Blaine pauses, still refusing to look up, before wordlessly getting in to the car. He’s shivering, from the cold or from his own anger, Kurt doesn’t know. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands and he still refuses to look at Kurt, opting to instead look out the window as they drive. Finally, after what feels like hours, Kurt hears Blaine move around in his seat and when he glances over, his heart nearly breaks.

 Silent tears are rolling down Blaine’s cheeks. His eyes are red and puffy, meaning he had to have been crying for a good amount of time and his shoulders are shaking with his suppressed sobs.

Kurt wastes no time in pulling over and grasping his boyfriend in to a tight embrace. Blaine finally lets out a choked sound and grabs ahold of Kurt in a desperate attempt to pull them closer, “Kurt, Kurt, I’m so sorry. I never ever wanted to make you feel like that. I’m so stupid and, god, I’m such a terrible boyfriend. I couldn’t think straight and everything was just a mess and-” His words become unintelligible then, muffled by Kurt’s shirt but Kurt doesn’t need to hear the rest.

He rubs Blaine’s back soothingly, gently shushing the unhinged boy in an attempt to calm him down. “Blaine, it’s okay. I was mad, maybe I still am, but I know how you get with alcohol. I’m not trying to give you an excuse or a way out. I’m just saying that I understand, Blaine, and I know you’re sorry.”

Kurt hears Blaine let out a sniffle and a small smile graces his lips as he feels Blaine begin to relax some. “You aren’t a bad boyfriend, Blaine. You just have a horrible taste in friends.”

Blaine chuckles lightly at that, moving so as to lay his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Sebastian sucks,” He affirms, “but he isn’t all to blame and I know that. I’ll make this up to you, Kurt. I swear it. Just know how sorry I am.” Kurt nods.

They sit in silence, simply reveling in being near each other now that they’ve made up, before Kurt realizes Blaine is half asleep on his shoulder and Kurt is close to following him.

He doesn’t know how he manages to drive the rest of the way back to his house or how he manages to carry Blaine up the stairs to his room. He knows they need to talk more but that can wait until morning, when Blaine is sober and they’re both well rested, because as soon as he’s wrapped himself in his snoring boyfriends’ arms, Kurt is dead to the world.

[akadrabbles]

Hope ; Hatsune Miku

I believed our happiness would last forever.

After I lost you, the Light, depressing nights have fallen on me.

I can still recall your smile.

“Says here that only two percent of high school sweethearts actually end up getting married," the new receptionist said, with an obnoxious smack of her chewing gum. “That says something, hm?"

She was new, and so bringing up touchy subjects for Kurt shouldn't have made him want to hate her. He sighed at how unfair he was being. Even if she had known him forever, no one should have to censor what they wanted to say just to avoid resurfacing his bad memories. Still, the urge to outright tell her to shut up was overwhelming.

"I mean, I remember my old boyfriend. Thought we'd last forever. So naive!" She noisily flipped another glossy page of her magazine.

Kurt sighed. It was early in the morning, still dark outside, his favorite time of the workday. There was a lot to do to prepare for the upcoming day at this time, which usually kept his mind off everything, as opposed to mid-morning and beyond, when all he could do was wait around in the office to greet the scheduled appointments. He finished the remaining two bites of his bagel, gathered the papers he needed from the office, and made his way quickly back to his workspace, without ever acknowledging the woman's attempts at conversation.

Only a few in the office knew the whole story: three younger ladies who he'd grown pretty close to during his time working here, all of whom had exited teary-eyed, one older lady, very motherly and comforting, and one curious but good-natured man. They were the five who had happened to be in the lunch room when Kurt had decided to recount, but they were also the five who never gossiped about it or brought it up again. They listened attentively and had appeared genuinely sorry, and always seemed to be keeping a caring eye out for him.

But they didn't see him when he went home. He couldn't say he went home to nothing; he'd bought himself a fast, shiny car and a very nice apartment, expensively-furnished, with his handsome salary from work. But it didn’t matter when he was coming home to no one. Even when Rachel found time to make the drive and visit with Finn, her loud voice and his hulking presence weren't enough to fill the apartment. Mercedes' occasional stays made things easier for awhile, but upon her departure, everything went back to normal. And for Kurt, normal meant misery. So, every Thursday night was reserved for a dinner with Burt in the apartment.

One night, the usual conversation, restrained strictly to work, the weather, and family, strayed away from the safe topics.

"Kurt," Burt began with a sigh, "I need you to move on. You can’t let the memory of someone hold you back."

Kurt's chewing slowed, but he didn't answer. He stared at Burt from across the table, but his father didn't meet his gaze.

"See, I loved your mother, and when she passed.... God, it was hard, Kurt, and I loved her so much, but I still moved on."

Kurt's angry response was calm and cold. "Don't bring Mom into this. Don't try to compare your relationship with her to anything I'm going through. And no, Dad, you didn't move on. You stayed in the same town doing the same thing everyday. You were held back just as I apparently am."

"Because I had a son to raise!" Burt's voice was rising. "I had to look out for what was best for you. And Kurt," he said, more earnestly now, "I've always been a pretty simple guy. I was content just to stay there in Lima. But you, you had this huge dream. You were going to be someone, break out of Ohio. What happened?"

Kurt glared up from his plate. "I moved to Columbus..." he said slowly, remaining calm. “And my job is... It more than gets me by." He gestured to the space around him. "Look at all of this. I could never afford this otherwise."

"But you aren't happy with it," Burt said. "It’s sitting here and going to waste because you aren't sharing it with anyone." He stood up abruptly.

"Dad, you don't have to go. You can't make a two hour drive to come down just for dinner. Let's watch some TV or something," Kurt offered unconvincingly. He only sounded tired, as if he really didn’t care what his father chose to do in the end.

Burt observed how the emptiness in his eyes and voice, and shook his head. "No. Kurt, I love you, and I'm always here for you, but you've got to have the motivation to make things better. Everyone's doing their part, you need to do yours. Try."

The door closed and Kurt abandoned the dishes on the table. He turned on his laptop and religiously checked his email, and every account he'd ever made on social networking sites. He even went to Blaine's Facebook page, which was something he hadn't done in awhile. It was frozen in time; he hadn't updated it since the day he'd left, and his profile still displayed the old layout. He found himself reading through statuses, looking through photos, and eventually, breaking down into tears.

Last, he checked his phone, where no new messages from Blaine were present, but one was saved: Kurt, I'm not coming back to school. I love you. See you as soon as I can, but it might be awhile.

That was a year and a half ago, when only two days of school remained, and visions of a perfect post-highschool summer filled Kurt's every thought. He hadn't heard from Blaine or seen him since.

                                  __________________________________

  Blaine's heart was beating rapidly and he was breathing hard. He didn't know what to do, so he stood and began pacing in around his room, a mixture of fear and excitement reigning over all other emotions. For a few seconds, he listened to the muffled shouting downstairs, and then he heard someone jogging up the staircase. Cooper slammed open the door, anger flashing in his eyes. Blaine froze.

"Get packed," Cooper demanded. Blaine didn't have to be told twice. He hurried to his closet and began throwing clothes into a suitcase, while Cooper selected various items from around the room to fit inside a cardboard box.

"Where are we going?" Blaine asked, hearing a slight tremor in his voice.

"Back home," Cooper replied gruffly, the shouting from downstairs continuing to blast through Blaine's open door.

Once they'd collected everything of importance, the boys hurried downstairs. It was surreal to see his father up and moving after so long, and Blaine couldn't help staring. At the sight of his mother crying, he came to a full halt.

"Come on!" Cooper insisted, already in the doorway. "Hurry up! You know they’re lying!”

Blaine obediently followed without so much as a goodbye.

                                   __________________________________

That night, they stayed in a hotel. Blaine was lying on his back, thinking.

"So, let me get this straight," Cooper said, walking into the room after running down the street for Chinese. "Dad says no more long business trips for him; he stays home long enough to find out about Kurt, and then pulls you out of school?" His voice was incredulous.

Blaine nodded numbly. "Yes. That summer, when we built the car together, he was so convinced that everything had changed. He trusted me to be alone at home while he and mom went flying across the country and taking cruise ships to who knows where. But yeah, he found out about Kurt, and we had a big fight. A week later, we were moving, just like that."

By now, Cooper had taken a seat on the foot of the other bed. "And you didn't protest?"

"Of course, Dad said his job was relocating him, but at such a short notice? It was pretty unbelievable. So when we got there, I thought about running away. But then was the incident. I came home after school one day and he told me he'd been to the hospital. Mom was crying and just like that, he was 'bedridden.'" Blaine's tone had become bitter. "Day I turned eighteen, I told them I was an adult, that I could make my own decisions and that I was leaving. He made me into the guilty one, because how heartless would you have to be to leave your father like that? Even though I never did anything to help them out, anyway. I was just... there. But I stayed, afraid I’d be a horrible person if I left."

Cooper smiled sadly. "Good thing you had your sharp big brother to catch on. I admit, you were a pretty good actor during phone calls, and you didn't leave me many clues to go on. But I found you."

"Thank you," Blaine replied sincerely.

"So, this Kurt," Cooper said, typing on his laptop. “Last name?"

“Hummel," Blaine replied absently before realizing what his brother was up to. "Wait!" he cried, jumping onto the bed next to Cooper. "Don't go to Facebook. Please, I haven't talked to him since I left."

At this, Cooper raised his eyebrows.

"I thought it would make leaving even worse for both of us. Plus, I figured he'd catch on and come after me or something, and make things with Dad a catastrophe."

"They were, anyway."

"He's got to be in New York, now. He probably doesn't even remember me."

"Ohio," Cooper said. "Columbus, Ohio. He doesn't post very often but… look. He's employed in Columbus, too."

Blaine looked confused. "Why...?"

"Because he's waiting on you, Blaine. He has been, all this time. Of course he remembers who you are, and he’s expecting you to come back to him."

                                     __________________________________

  At nine o'clock Kurt had settled himself on the couch to watch television. In a few years, he'd be at the age where work was no longer his main focus, the age at which most people bought suburban homes in which their children would be raised. And Kurt hadn't dated anyone, or even considered doing so, since Blaine's sudden disappearance. Sometimes, when he thought hard about Blaine, he could see him perfectly, remember how he smelled, or hear him singing.

There was a knock on the door, and Kurt sluggishly rose to answer. He opened it to find a man who shared many of Blaine's features. Kurt's eyes widened in response at the smiling gentleman. Never had he hallucinated a Blaine-esque someone on his doorstep! The man stepped back without a word, and gestured to the staircase below. Blaine emerged from the shadows, smiling sheepishly.

"Hi, Kurt."

Kurt’s fair skin was eager to allow the rising color in his cheeks visibility. After nearly two years, he found his home in Blaine’s embrace once more.

[akadrabbles]

Deck the Rooftop -- Glee Cast

"Up on the rooftop click click click,

Down through the chimney with good St. Nick!"

“Cooper! Psst, Cooper, wake up!”

Cooper groans, twisting in his covers until he’s facing his little brother. Blaine has a huge grin on his face and is bouncing from one foot to the other excitedly. His grin widens when he realizes he’s finally got his big brothers attention and he crawls on to Cooper’s bed.

“Cooper, you gotta get up. Santa came!”

Cooper sighs but forces himself to sit up. Christmas Day is the only day of the year where Cooper wakes up without a fight because he’s a sucker for his baby brother’s smile.

Blaine giggles, eyeing his brothers rumpled form, “Cooper, your hair is all messy!”

Cooper raises an eyebrow, smirks, and grabs his little brother. Blaine swears he hates to be tickled but his shrieks of laughter tell another story entirely so Cooper only stops when Blaine is red in the face and breathing heavily.

“Alright B, let’s go see what St. Nick got you.” Blaine jumps off the bed before Cooper can even move and, despite being out of breath, is already half way down the stairs.

Cooper chuckles as he grabs a shirt and heads downstairs after Blaine. Their parents are, somehow, still asleep. Of course, seeing as how it’s five in the morning, Cooper can’t actually blame them.

Blaine is sitting cross legged in front of the heavily decorated Christmas tree and his presents surround him. He looks delightfully overwhelmed with the number of gifts, all shapes and sizes, and Cooper can’t help smiling. He has the most adorable little brother ever.

“Coop, look! Look at all of these presents!” Blaine gestures wildly around him.

Cooper nods, “You must have been extra nice this year, Blainers. Santa made sure you got everything you wanted.” He sits cross legged next to Blaine, who’s too busy thinking about what present to open first to respond. Finally, the curly haired eight year old grabs one and tears open the paper.

Blaine cheers happily with each present he opens; the smile on his face doesn’t falter once. He places each gift gently on one side of him, after excitedly showing his big brother, but throws the wrapping paper away carelessly. Finally, he’s opened every present under the tree and is now more concentrated on playing with all of them.

“Did you like all your gifts, Blainers?” Cooper receives an enthusiastic nod from Blaine before the latter returns to punishing the evil Red Skull action figure with Captain America’s shield of Justice.

“Well, I have one more for you. This one’s from me though, not Santa.” At Cooper’s words, Blaine drops the action figures and jumps up, his smile impossibly wide.

“Really? You got me a present, Coop!?” Cooper laughs, pulling out a small, rectangular box from next to him and handing it to his little brother, who’s shaking from excitement in his footsies.

Blaine is careful opening the gift from his big brother but when he finally gets it open, his face lights up. “It’s that thingy you and daddy always wear at the fancy parties!”

“It’s called a bowtie, B. You’re just about the age where you can start going to those fancy parties with us. Now you can look as grown up and official as all the rest of us!”

Blaine throws his arms around Cooper, “I get to go with you and daddy and mommy now! No more babysitters!” Cooper ruffles his little brothers’ hair and nods, “No more babysitters, B.”

“Can I put it on right now, Cooper?” Cooper shakes his head and Blaine’s face falls slightly.

“You don’t want to get it ruined before you even have a chance to show everyone how grown up you are tonight, right?” He asks, referring to the annual Anderson Family Christmas party.

Blaine’s frown disappears, replaced with a determined expression and he nods, “You’re right, Coop. I gotta show everyone how repso-repon-”

“Responsible.”

“Yeah, that. I gotta show everyone that I’m that.”

Cooper smiles fondly and stands, pulling Blaine up with him, “Well, how about some of your big brothers famous omelets?” Blaine nods and they head for the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Cooper.”

“Merry Christmas, Blaine.”

[akadrabbles]

Somewhere Over The Rainbow ; Glee Cast

If happy little bluebirds fly Beyond the rainbow Why, oh why can't I?

Quinn giggled as she was lifted into the air by strong arms she trusted. She knew this man wouldn't ever drop her, betray her, or let her down. She laughed at the sight of her father, somehow far below her now, as he lifted her higher and higher into the air.

"Will you always be my little girl?"

"Yes, Daddy," she chuckled as he lowered her softly to the ground.

                                       __________________________________

  She loved him, and promised to always be his, and now he was sending her out. Quinn frowned at the metallic taste in her mouth and shuddered at the irony. Because this was another step in life, and taking it early was a challenge, but it was not a mistake. And yet he was so mad.

She willed herself not to cry anymore. She wouldn't have cared as much if it had just been her. She would have been devasted to have been thrown out of her own home, when her parents had promised her since her first breath they loved her no matter what. It would have been hard. But didn't they understand that it wasn't just her, but someone else, small and tiny and precious? Too small and underdeveloped to even form a thought, and they were kicking out on the streets with only an 'irresponsible' and 'inconsiderate' sixteen-year-old to protect it.

She fell into the strong arms of someone she knew she could always trust. He wasn't very bright, but he was loyal, and he was--no matter what, she told herself--the father. She knew she could trust him.

                                       __________________________________

  Quinn felt disgusting. She'd been jealous and spiteful and hateful. She had wrecked relationships that weren't even her own, and cheated numerous times. She was a bully. She was a monster. Not even her parents wanted her under their roof. Why couldn't she ever have a successful relationship?

She was ready to give up, and stop putting her trust in anyone.

She thought of everyone she knew who was in a happy place in their lives. If they could be there, then why couldn't she?

                                      __________________________________

  Things were stable. She had friends, a big group of them who were like a family. She was going to Yale, and New Directions had won Regionals. Coach Sylvester had allowed her back on the Cheerio's.

She only had to try things differently and adopt a new perspective.

For once, Quinn was happy and things were going right for her. But still she felt that something was missing.

                                     __________________________________

  She blinked and things came into focus. Everything was dark and unexpected, but not unsettling. Hadn't she just been leaving her house? Something told her she shouldn't move, or perhaps she couldn't. Either way, Quinn remained still, watching, as best she could, a nurse beside her tinkering with bedside equipment that filled her ears with foreign noises.

"Oh, honey, you're awake," said the nurse softly.. "Do you remember what happened?"

Quinn paused, thought, and attempted to nod.

"Well, let's not worry about it now. You're in a hospital and you're going to be just fine. All of your family and friends are here, but they're out in the waiting area." She paused. "If you really want to see them, I guess a visit from your parents wouldn't hurt, but it's important you speak as little as possible."

"No..." Quinn croaked. "I'm going back to sleep. Can I see them tomorrow?" It sounded strange, to not want to immediately see her loved ones, but all she wanted most in the world then was to fall back asleep. She didn't want to worry about anything right now, and she certainly didn't want anyone crying about her or asking how she felt so late at night.

The nurse seemed understanding enough. She turned to leave.

Again, Quinn tried to speak. "I don't feel..."

"Good?" the nurse finished.

Quinn shook her head. "My legs,” she replied grimly.

"Oh," said the nurse. "Everything's either going to be extremely numb or painful for awhile, but best not to worry about that right now, hm? Why don't you get some rest."

Quinn nodded again, and the nurse had almost exited. With a jolt, as her senses came back to her slowly, she realized that someone was holding her hand loosely, and a dark figure was hunched beside the bed. Beside her, she heard the monitors fly into a rage, the steady beat of her heart more and more rapid from her surprise at discovering this person had been there the entire time without her knowing.

The nurse looked back in concern, but quickly realized what had startled Quinn. "Oh, he didn't want to leave," she told her. "The others were here earlier, but we asked them to leave because the room was becoming a bit crowded. But they let him stay. I'm guessing he's really special to you." She gave a quick nod and smiled at Quinn. "Get some rest, sweetie. We'll worry about all of this tomorrow."

The nurse exited and Quinn slowly reached to turn on the lamp beside her, her arms covered in bruises and bandages, and stuck with an IV. She hoped no one would notice the light. She still wanted sleep, but more than anything now she wanted to unmask the only person who'd stayed with her the whole time. She smiled, a small part of her hoping it was her father, forgiving her and making amends at last.

Instead, the sudden light revealed blonde hair. She sat forward slightly, as carefully as she could, to observe Sam, sleeping. He still grasped her hand, afraid to let her go. She wondered how long he'd been there. She sat back, thinking about what the nurse had told her. He had refused to leave. Her closest friends and even her own parents had, but not Sam.

Near his other hand was a discarded pen and some paper. She picked up the paper and examined it. There were scribbles and lines where words and entire had been marked out. Whatever he had been trying to write had been started over a multitude of times, but at last, she found one message that seemed clear of error.

  Quinn, since I've been back, I've been trying to distance myself from you. I thought I loved Mercedes, but I've sat here and had a long while to think. And I don't exactly know how to say this, but I've only been trying to distract myself. I miss you, but I see you now and you've got everything figured out, finally. I don't want to come and mess that up for you. But, you at least deserve to know how I feel about you. It took you almost dying for me to figure that out, but I won't leave your side again. I'm sorry, Quinn. I love you.

  And I want us to be together again. Even if we're just close friends. I know it'll be a long road to repair all we had before, but I'd like to.

Quinn smiled. She loved Sam and she wanted him to know. He hadn't betrayed her, ever, like so many others had. She wanted to be with him again, and he wasn't going to ruin her life or destroy all that her future could be. He was going to help her through everything and make certain that she didn't have to face anything alone. She wanted to pour her heart out onto the paper like he had, so that he would know exactly how grateful she was and how much she still loved him, even if she had been ignoring her feelings. Instead, the medication the nurse had apparently been giving her when she'd woken was really setting in.

Still, she wanted to at least scribble a response so he'd know she'd seen his letter.

A long road, she thought, and at the end would be such a reward. Happiness and security and new experiences. It all sounded so good, and she was almost there, already on the road to repairing their relationship.

 On my way. Love you Sam.

[akadrabbles]

I Need a Doctor - Eminem

"Hope, I just need a ray of that."

“Daddy, when’s momma coming home?”

Burt Hummel sighs, stopping at the threshold of his sons’ door. He takes off his cap, twisting it in his hands to stall, before finally facing his son.

“Kurt, buddy, we talked about this.” Burt sounds tired in every sense of the word and he’s near pleading with his eight year old son right now. He doesn’t want to talk about this again.

“Daddy,” Kurt scrambles upright, poised to argue, “daddy, you’re wrong. Momma has to come back. This is her home too!”

Burt sighs again and makes his way to the edge of Kurt’s bed. He gathers his son in his lap, making sure Kurt is completely wrapped up in his arms.

“Kurt, your mother would be with us if she could. In a heartbeat. You know that, right?” Kurt nods, but Burt can see the tiny bit of relief in his sons’ blue eyes, “The thing is buddy, your mom isn’t,” Burt pauses, gathering the words in his head, “Kurt, your mom can’t be with us anymore.”

Kurt doesn’t let Burt continue, throwing his hands up to cover his ears and beginning to shake his head back and forth.

Burt looks on, his heart breaking. He’s tried to talk to Kurt since Elizabeth passed but every attempt Burt has made ends up the same way. Before he’d just hold Kurt until the boy trusted Burt wouldn’t talk about his mom being gone anymore but Burt knows he can’t do this again.

 He doesn’t want to tell his eight year old son that he won’t be seeing his mother again but he has too.

 “Kurt, you have to listen to me.” Burt pries Kurt’s hands away, despite the smaller ones furious protest. “No! No, you’re wrong daddy! Momma is coming home! She has too!”

Burt holds back his own tears when he sees Kurt’s blue eyes overflow. He wants to collapse and cry with Kurt. He wants to tell Kurt that his mother is going to find her way back to them because, more than anything, that’s what Burt wants. But he can’t afford himself that ignorance. He has to be strong for Kurt and for himself.

It’s what Elizabeth wanted.

“Kurt, listen to me!” He doesn’t mean to raise his voice but it works. Kurt stops his rebuttal and stares at him with his big, blue eyes.

“Kurt, your mother was sick and she was in a lot of pain when she was here so she decided to go away. It was the hardest thing your mother ever had to do Kurt, believe me. She didn’t want to, god, she didn’t want to at all but she had too. She loves you so much Kurt and she’s so proud of you. That’s why she wants you to be strong, okay? She can’t be here with us but we have each other and we know that she isn’t hurting anymore.”

Burt doesn’t realize he’s crying until Kurt throws his arms around his neck and holds on like his life depends on it, “Don’t cry, daddy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Burt only cries harder at this. His eight year old son is comforting him even though Kurt is the one who just realized his mother was gone forever.

“Don’t ever be sorry for asking about your mom, Kurt.” Burt tightens his hold on his son. He doesn’t know how long they held each other, silent tears falling from both of their eyes. Somewhere along the way, they fell asleep and when Burt wakes up the next morning, Kurt is curled up beside him, cheeks red from crying but a small smile on his face.

Burt knows it will be hard. Elizabeth was his rock, his everything and he’s got no idea what to do with her gone. But he’ll learn, together with Kurt, and he’ll be Kurt’s rock until Kurt finds someone else that means to him what Elizabeth means to Burt. 

[akadrabbles]

Here I Come ; Fergie ft. Will.I.Am

And any minute I'll be coming through, so get ready, get ready. Cause here I come.

Blaine. You are so oblivious.

  The voices of his friends and an assortment of random Warblers echoed through his mind at the most inconvenient of times. Blaine sighed and rolled over to look, for the fifth time, at the glowing numbers on the digital clock.

You are ignoring what's right in front of you.

He grumbled and flipped violently back on his other side, facing the wall and causing the bed to rock slightly. He beat his pillow a few times and rubbed his eyes. He felt like a five-year-old throwing a fit and exhaled, trying to clear his head.

 Blaine, just go for it already, man.

 It was something to be considered that the whispered rumors hadn't circulated to Kurt yet. Or maybe they had, and Blaine was just 'oblivious' to that, as well. He grew anxious and his heart began beating faster at the very thought. But then, his heart seemed to beat faster at every thought involving Kurt, in a mad attempt at beating his racing thoughts to a finish line that only ended in circles and confusion. Blaine sat up, determined to sort out his muddled feelings at last.

Did he really like Kurt? Kurt was cute, Kurt could sing, Kurt was single. The facts. But was this some phase? Some crush he was soon to grow out of? The questions worried Blaine. They ate at him until his palms were sweaty and it was 2:00 AM.

Interests and attractions had come and gone like seasons; it was the way of the teenager. But the thought that he might one day awake and find Kurt as just another ordinary student, well, that was terrifying. So terrifying that it troubled him until he was unweaving lose threads from his blanket and it was 2:30 AM.

Everyone else was so encouraging, and so adamant that Kurt returned his interest in full. But if he didn't? What then? What would become of Blaine if he were rejected? He had been a few times, but by Kurt? It bothered him so that he counted the indentions on the ceiling until it was 3:00 AM.

The voices wouldn't go away, all of them ordering and demanding and expectant. Finally, drowning out the others, a piece of motherly advice surfaced:

 You never know when you'll encounter your soulmate. At any moment they could come through, walking straight into your life, and--if you do nothing about it--straight out. So get ready.

  Fatigue struck Blaine harder than his head did the pillow moments later, his eyes already closed.

                                           __________________________________

  For a guy who preaches so much about courage, you sure lack it.

  Blaine sighed and wished he'd stop beating himself up over everything concerning Kurt. He would not say he liked him. That would only make the both of them uneasy.

  "Would you just relax?" he soliloquized, tying his tie expertly. He made a mental note that talking to himself, alongside hearing voices, was only further proof of his deteriorating mental state.

  Kurt, you're cool. Kurt, you sing well. You're nice to hang out with, Kurt. You make me smile, Kurt. I enjoy having coffee with you, Kurt. I look forward to just seeing you everyday, Kurt.

  If he wasn't going to outright admit his feelings, he at least had to acknowledge them, drop a few hints here or there that he thought highly of Kurt. That he respected him, enjoyed his company, and perhaps, just maybe once imagined them as a couple, simply going through a normal school day and going out for coffee.

So, expressing admiration was for certain, Blaine told himself, but when and where and... what were the correct words that seemed to be excusing themselves from his vocabulary?

                                           __________________________________

  Paranoid that everyone could clearly see through his weak pretense, Blaine fought hard to keep his mind on other matters. The uniform colors coordinated just fine, the darker navy tones balancing out the red trim that would otherwise be too loud. But, he needed a diversion, and this one suggestion had sent the Warblers into an uproar. He considered it to be working effectively.

He observed that the room was completely devoid of Kurt, meaning that he could, if he so chose, put off his creepy but long overdue declaration just a day longer. The pounding of Wes's gavel brought him back to attention, just in time to hear an angry shout from Trent concerning kangaroo courts.

Then the doors opened, and Kurt was crying.

                                          __________________________________

  It was strange, after what had happened. Blaine couldn't stand to see Kurt so distraught, but then again, he had no idea how to comfort someone efficiently. And so, his plan had been divided into two parts on impulse; at first he'd decided that asking Kurt to sing the duet with him would be enough, but he realized it wasn't.

And so suddenly he was walking through the halls and finding Kurt working on Pavarotti's grave. He was suddenly making small talk with him, and at some point he'd sat down. His nervous fretting caused everything to become unclear, and it wasn't until Kurt's one question that the haze was lifted.

"Why did you pick me to sing that song with?"

Blaine took a deep breath. Here it was.

  Blaine, fate is always determining things for us. There is someone out there who’s right for you, and at any moment they'll be coming through, so get ready. They'll be the one you were meant for, the one you've been seeking.

  It was sound advice.

"Kurt, there is a moment, when you say to yourself... 'Oh, there you are, I've been looking for you forever'." A pause. "Watching you do Blackbird this week... That was the moment for me, about you." A heartbeat and a discovery of perfect words:"You move me, Kurt."

The rest came effortlessly.

[akadrabbles]

Song: Funny, Sunny Day

Artist: SxOxU

Come on now, have fun. If you show your little smile, it'll be okay.        

 Nine-year-olds weren’t supposed to cry. That was the ultimate sign of defeat, understood amongst their peers if not the whole world, which was why Kurt Hummel was running at full speed toward the park and away from the shouting behind him. He eventually lost the noise—and hopefully, those creating it—when a huge, green field came into view. No bully would dare follow him here—too many parents with their young children. The tormentors knew better than this, and so it had become something like a base in a twisted game of hide-and-seek.

            Kurt fell to the ground once he was a good few paces within the field, and allowed the tears to finally come. There was a huge crowd on a day like today: nice late-spring weather and all the children had just been released from school. But the people were all dispersed toward the center of the field, with Kurt a safe distance away, where no one would notice his quiet sobbing.

            “Hey!”

            Kurt looked to his left. There stood a boy about his age on a thin periwinkle-colored blanket, wearing a huge grin. Scattered on the blanket was a poorly-constructed kite and a model airplane in similar condition.

            “Have you been crying?”

            Kurt felt his expression go sour. He’d used up all of his best retorts on the other kids earlier in the day, so he let this one slide with nothing more than a sardonic remark.

“Have you been eating?”

It was obvious that he had been, given the bread crumbs that dotted his face,

just as it was obvious that Kurt had been crying, hence the tears. Slowly, the boy raised his arm to his mouth and wiped it with the back of his sleeve, catching most of the crumbs but completely missing the sarcasm.

            “Yes, and I still have an extra sandwich.”

He fell back onto his blanket, and beckoned Kurt to join him. Kurt found himself doing so, however reluctantly. He even accepted the sandwich and nibbled on the edges, watching the boy stand up and attempt to fly his airplane. The winds picked up and sent it looping through the air until it came crashing down in the grass.

The boy retrieved it thoughtfully, staring at it for a moment. “I’ll take it home tonight and repair it. Then I’ll try again tomorrow,” he resolved.

                                           __________________________________

            Soon he would be out of school and this would stop. They would all be in summer school, or staying with their relatives, or on vacation as if they really deserved one. But for now, Kurt was still making use of his park refuge. Catching sight of it as he rounded the block, he remembered the boy he’d met the day before, and became curious of him again. His name was Blaine. Blaine who liked to fly planes, he remembered, dashing onto the great green lawn.

            Kurt found the periwinkle blanket easily, despite another crowded day. It was settled comfortably on the perimeter of the park again, just as it had been the day before. Kurt collapsed on it, spotting Blaine farther out in the field, trying hard to make his kite fly this time. Trying to catch his breath, Kurt watched as some invisible force—be it gravity or wind—brought an abrupt end to the kite’s soaring and hurtled it back to the ground.

            Blaine fetched his kite, then turned around and noticed Kurt. He said nothing as he approached him, weaving the string back around the spool. He reached the blanket and took a seat beside Kurt, still wrapping the white thread.

            “I saw the trees up in the sky.”

            Kurt did nothing but stare, alarmed at this unprecedented outburst of nonsense.

            “I saw the rainbow in the ocean.”

            “What?!” Kurt shot him a very questioning look, which Blaine acknowledged with a chuckle.

            “Just a joke!” he laughed, placing the slightly-battered kite on the blanket between them.

            “What do you mean?” Kurt asked.

            “When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me a whole bunch of silly things that didn’t make sense so I’d laugh,” Blaine explained. He paused, taking in Kurt’s face. “You seemed pretty sad, so I just thought it would work.”

            Kurt offered a small smile. “Thanks, it did,” he said, mentally noting that there was something about Blaine that bothered him.

                                        __________________________________

            It was the last day of school, so everyone—even the instigators—had something better to do. For Kurt it meant going to the park to celebrate, with two sandwiches in his lunchbox today that were especially reserved for a picnic on a periwinkle blanket and an afternoon of attempts at plane-flying.

            Kurt took his usual seat on the blanket, taking in the sunny day with a smile. Blaine was a little ways off, tinkering with a grounded kite. Though Kurt’s presence was unannounced, Blaine caught sight of his arrival in the corner of his vision.

            “I saw the cars fly in the air, and I saw the planes fly in the city.”

            Kurt honored the ridiculous phrase with a full, genuine laugh this time, and Blaine joined him on the blanket.

            All was silent for a moment, then, “Blaine, where are your parents?”

            “Well,” Blaine began uncertainly but willingly, “my mom and dad used to take me here a lot. We’d have the best times here, and we still have a lot of pictures to prove it. But, they started fighting. So, my mom moved away, and my dad got really busy in his work. I don’t ever see my mom, and my dad and I don’t spend much time together.” He chewed on a mouthful of his sandwich pensively. “But,” he continued, as hope returned to his eyes passionately, “my dad promised that one day we’d get one of these kites or planes to fly. And so right now I’m practicing until he decides to come here with me again.”

            Kurt nodded, suddenly dismal and uninterested in his sandwich. He hadn't expected such a full explanation. He set the sandwich aside and took a deep breath.

            “Since you told me about your family, I’ll tell you about mine.”

            Blaine stared at him curiously.

            “Last year, my mom died. I loved her a lot, and we were really close. My dad and I still hang out all the time, but I can tell he’s still really sad. That’s why I don’t tell him about the bullies. I don’t want to worry him anymore than he already is.”

            Kurt finished, genuinely grateful for the arm that was slung across his shoulders then in a most comforting gesture.

                                                   __________________________________

            Two weeks afterward, Kurt and Blaine huddled around Burt as he put the finishing touches on the model airplane. The sky outside was a steel grey, promising rain, but Kurt decided they could make it to the park before the downpour began. They hurried into the car, Blaine thoroughly admiring the detail and effort put into the plane.

            He was momentarily crushed when it took a nosedive into the grass, afraid that Burt’s hard work had been wasted. Burt simply chuckled.

            “It’s just fine, Blaine,” he promised him, picking it up for him to see. “But I know just what it needs, and I have it at the shop. You kids stay here, and I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

            Kurt and Blaine took a seat in the grass, which felt odd in the absence of Blaine’s favorite picnic blanket. Kurt let out a long, content sigh as his eyes scanned the field ahead.

            “You know, I feel sort of like you and I were meant to be friends,” he admitted to Blaine. “I think we get along really well.” Two sentences and he was crying, which was not something nine-year-olds did.

            Blaine seemed alarmed. “What’s wrong, Kurt?” he asked worriedly.

            “It’s just that… you’re my only friend. Everyone else is always mean to me,” Kurt confessed. “And I’m just afraid we won’t always be friends.”

            Blaine turned to face him, wearing a serious expression. “We will always be friends. Forever,” he vowed. “We’ll make new friends along the way, but none of them will be as special to us as we’ll be to each other. Hear me? No newcomers.”

                                                        __________________________________

            Kurt pokes the newcomer in the stomach.

“I saw the stars shine in the sun. I saw the snow fall in the summer.”

The newcomer, a boy of about five with light brown hair, giggles. “That’s so silly! Who told you that?”

Kurt smiles. “Your dad did.” He points into the distance, where Blaine is, once again, unsuccessfully attempting to fly a kite.

It dwindles downward and he catches it with a small chuckle.

“I never was very good at making these things fly,” he admits, “but I promise we’ll keep coming back until we get one of them to. After all, it’s amazing how little it’s changed since the last time we were here,” he adds, smiling at Kurt.

The young boy looks up at them with a brilliant smile. “I had fun today. Thank you for bringing me here, Daddy Blaine, Papa Kurt.”

[akadrabbles]

Something's Coming - Glee Cast Version

"I got a feeling there's a miracle due, gonna come true, coming to me!"

“Blaine?”

Kurt gets no answer. He closes the front door with his foot and his nose scrunches up in confusion.

He heads to the kitchen and sets the groceries on the counter. He’ll put them up later. Right now, Kurt just wants to figure out where his missing boyfriend is.

“Blaine? Babe, are you here?”

No answer still.

Kurt’s beginning to get a little worried when his phone vibrates. He’s relived to see it’s from Blaine but his relief is quickly replaced by confusion.

Follow the clues, okay? You’ll find me at the end.

Kurt sighs, rolling his eyes at his boyfriends’ antics. Blaine’s a dork and Kurt figures it was only a matter of time before the curly haired hobbit did something like this.

Kurt’s phone vibrates once more.

Over coffee I said what can only be true

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, I love you.

Kurt scoffs at the cheesy words but impending tears fill his vision and he’s got a huge smile on his face.

He immediately grabs his keys and all but runs out the house.

He gets to the Lima Bean in five minutes and heads straight for the table in the back. It’s been their table since they met.

It’s empty except for a small, white envelope with Kurt’s name in the middle.

Over the hill we placed our small, yellow friend,

after he met his untimely end.

(Can we forget that I rhymed ‘end’ with ‘friend’?)

Kurt laughs out loud, ignoring the stares he gets for it, because his boyfriend is an absolute dork and Kurt loves him so much sometimes it hurts.

He folds up the letter, gently placing it in his jacket pocket and is about to leave when the Barista suddenly stops him, “Excuse me. You were just at that table, right?”

Kurt nods and the girl, Jenny, motions him over. “I take it this is for you then. Some guy came in and asked me to give it to whoever picks up the letter on the table.”

She hands him a coffee, “One Grande nonfat mocha for a mister bright eyes.”

Kurt thanks her and leaves the coffee shop, feeling happier than ever.

He takes his time getting to Pavarotti’s grave, sipping his mocha and contemplating just what Blaine is doing all of this for. Their anniversary was a month ago and it isn’t Kurt’s birthday any time soon. He’s still mulling over his options when he finally gets to Pav’s grave.

The envelope looks the same as the one from the Lima Bean: white and small with Kurt’s name written on it. The only difference is the freshly picked white rose lying across it.

Kurt picks up both the envelope and the rose and, after saying goodbye to Pavarotti, heads back to his car. He places the rose carefully on the passenger seat before reading.

I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece.

I’m complete.

Kurt is pretty sure he breaks every single rule of the road on his way to Dalton. Despite his speeding, it still takes the usual two hours.

Kurt runs to the senior commons room, amazed that he still remembers every twist and turn in the Dalton hallways.

When he gets there, after what feels like forever, Kurt finds a second white rose on the table but there’s no note and there’s no Blaine.

He’s about to search the room inside out for something that could point him in the right direction when he hears it.

There’s music playing. A soft melody is drifting in to the common room from just outside and a familiar voice is accompanying it.

Blaine is on the winding Dalton stairs when Kurt walks out. He’s got his guitar in hand and is playing an acoustic rendition of ‘Teenage Dream’.

When Blaine finishes, Kurt is in tears and smiling so wide his mouth is starting to hurt.

“Did you like my scavenger hunt?” Blaine grins, holding his hands out for Kurt to join him on the steps.

Kurt laughs quietly, “You’re such a dork, Blaine.” He leans in, giving Blaine a chaste kiss.

“I loved it, surprisingly. I wouldn’t quit your day job to become a poet anytime soon though.”

“Hey, I’d like to think Shakespeare would be amazed at my mad rhyming skills!” Blaine replies, laughing at Kurt’s skeptical expression.

“Why’d you go through all of this for me, Blaine? Did I forget our three and a half year anniversary or something?” Kurt’s only kind of joking. He’s genuinely concerned that he may have somehow, someway, forgot some important day of theirs.

Blaine is quick to quell Kurt’s worries, lacing their hands together and giving Kurt a peck on the cheek, “No, of course not.”

He steps back and Kurt suddenly realizes how nervous Blaine looks. The shorter boy keeps biting his lip and rubbing his palms on his jeans. He’s muttering something under his breath that vaguely sounds like, ‘I can do this’ but Kurt can’t be too sure.

Kurt raises his eyebrow in question and is about to question Blaine about his weird behavior when Blaine suddenly drops to one knee and-oh.

Oh.

Kurt suddenly can’t breathe and he grabs ahold of the stair rail just to hold himself up.

Blaine, his wonderful, amazing boyfriend Blaine, is on one knee and in his hand is a wedding band. (In the back of his mind, Kurt wonders how Blaine can manage such a position on a staircase.)

“Oh my god.” Kurt grips the stair rail tighter, “Oh my god.”

His stomach is doing flips and his legs feel like they’re about to give out and he can’t see past his tears.

“Kurt, baby, breathe, okay. I’m supposed to be the one freaking out here.” Blaine gives a shaky laugh before continuing.

“Kurt, three years ago, on this very staircase, I met you and my life finally started to have purpose. You always tell people that I saved you, but, Kurt, the honest truth is I would still be a lost, lonely coward if it wasn’t for you. I may preach it but you were the one who taught me what courage really is. You are so brave Kurt and I am so lucky to have met you and to be with you. And I want to be with you, Kurt. I want to be with you every day of my life. So, will you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Kurt doesn’t hesitate at all when he pulls Blaine to his feet and crashes their lips together. His cheeks are wet with tears and his nose hurts from all his sniffling but he doesn’t care because Blaine just proposed to him and Kurt is positive this is the happiest moment of his life.

Blaine pulls back, grinning, “Is that a yes?”

Kurt laughs, “Yes! Blaine, god, of course, yes! A million times yes!”

Blaine’s smile could rival the sun. He gathers Kurt in his arms, planting chaste kisses on his nose, his forehead, his mouth-everywhere he possibly can.

“We’re getting married!”

[akadrabbles]

Dilemma

  Dilemma

Nelly feat. Kelly Rowland

“No matter what I do, all I think about is you.” 

Day One

            Blaine pulls the living room curtains back, spying on the family emptying boxes from the moving van across the street. He’s seen only an older man and two teenage boys so far. A car had come by earlier, but he didn’t get to catch who was in it.

            “It’s a shame they’ve moved into that house.” A light voice says from behind Blaine, emitting a frightened squeak from him.

            He turns around to his mother, “Why? What’s wrong with the house?”

             “They have to deal with that creeper boy across the street.” She smirks, “Now get away from the curtain.”

Day Two

              “Shouldn’t we go over there or something? We should. That’s what good neighbors would do. We should go over there and say hi.” Blaine says, watching Kurt—he’d learned the name from the couple next door (who had taken the initiative to greet the newcomers),—come out and get the mail.

            He heard his mother sigh from the other room. “If it will stop The Boy Next Door thing, you can be my guest to take this over to them.”

            Blaine jumps up, grabs the container of cookies from his mother’s hands, and practically flies out the door, happily ignoring his mother’s mumbled comments.

            Blaine doesn’t feel like this is a bad idea until his on the doorstep, his hand raised to knock on the door. He’s about to turn around and tell his mother that they weren’t home when the door opens. 

            Blue eyes look into his, “Oh, hello.” Kurt says, with a slightly confused lilt in his tone.

            For a reason unbeknownst to him, Blaine laughs. “Oh hi!” He starts with a voice much higher than his usual, “I just, uh, I came from across the street and, uhm,” Blaine pauses, fumbling to remember why he came over. Surely for a reason other to embarrass himself.

Not that that wasn’t going fabulously, too.

Kurt smirks, his eyes darting down the plastic container in Blaine’s hands. Oh, right.

“I came over to give you these!” He says triumphantly, holding the Tupperware in front of him, “Yeah, my mom made them and I thought I should bring them over because we haven’t welcomed you into our neighborhood yet—not that it’s our neighborhood or anything, I mean we don’t own it but—You know what, here you go.” Blaine pushed the container into Kurt’s hands and slowly started to back off the porch.

“Uhm, I’ll just be going now, I’ll be across the street. You know, at my house. Because that’s where I live.”

Blaine began to make his way down the steps at a slightly quicker pace. He had never been so ineloquent in his life. He was just going to turn around, go home, and hide under his desk for a while.

“Wait!” Blaine looked back to see Kurt still in the doorway, a smile still on his face. “ I’m Kurt.” Blaine figures it’s for the best that he doesn’t admit that he already knows Kurt’s name. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?”

“Oh, right, my name’s Blaine.” He says in reply, extremely grateful that he didn’t stutter over his words.

            Kurt smiles brightly, “Well thank you, Bl—“

            Thunderous steps approach the brunette boy, a large figure appearing behind him, “Dude! Cookies!” The other boy, one Blaine almost has to crane his neck to look up to, cheerfully takes the container from Kurt’s hands and disappears again.

            Kurt shakes his head, snickering at Blaine’s confused expression, “Stepbrother.” He says in explanation.

            Another figure appears in the doorway, but a significantly smaller one. “I have to leave for vocal training, Kurt, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

            With a friendly roll of his eyes, Kurt brings the girl into one armed hug. “Alright, Rachel. Call me.”

            She smiles back and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Of course.”

            Oh. Blaine thinks as the girl, Rachel, passes by without even noticing him. It seems his has completely misjudged this situation. Of course, he hadn’t assumed anything, but he didn’t know, at least he didn’t think, that Kurt was in a relationship.

Right.

            “Don’t mind her, she can be sort of overpowering at times.”

            There are several moments of silence until Blaine realizes that that little sign of affection was probably his cue to leave. He laughs nervously, “Right, I’ll just be going then. See you later, Kurt.”

            Kurt nods in acknowledgment, “Bye, Blaine.”

Day Three

                        Blaine spends the majority of his Sunday upstairs in his room, analyzing his conversation with Kurt.

            Did he imply too much by saying “See you later”? Maybe that would come off as desperate. Blaine barely even knew the guy.

            He knew that Kurt had a girlfriend.

            Maybe the cookies were too much. Kurt might not even like cookies. Kurt looked like a pretty healthy person; he probably wouldn’t even eat them.

            Or maybe he would. With his girlfriend.

            Blaine doesn’t even think about Rachel. He doesn’t even remember seeing her.

            God, Blaine hadn’t even learned Kurt’s last name yet and he’d already screwed up.

Day Four

            “Hey, Mom, what are we d—“ Blaine stopped midsentence, “Oh. Hi, Kurt.”

            Please let me still be in my own house. Blaine thinks, scanning the area just to assure himself that he had not somehow ended up in Kurt’s living room.

            “Hey, Blaine, I was just coming over return this.” He waved the, now empty, plastic container that Blaine had delivered earlier.

            “Oh, right, thanks.” Blaine said, taking the container from Kurt’s hands.

            Kurt smiled, “Well, I’ll be heading home. Tell your mom we loved the cookies!” He began making his way towards the door.

            “No! Wait!” Blaine all but yelled. Kurt stopped right before the foyer, jumping slightly at the other boy’s raised voice. Blaine cleared his throat, “Uhm, you don’t have to leave right now. I could get you something to drink?” He prayed that he didn’t sound too hopeful.

            Kurt paused, “Oh, okay. Sure, I’d like that.”

Blaine brought out two glasses and led Kurt to the couch. They sat and discussed basic topics. Did Kurt attend the same school as Blaine? (No, he began his first day at McKinley today, whereas Blaine attended Dalton.) Was Kurt adjusting well to the neighborhood? (“Yes, everyone here is actually very nice. Thank you.”) How long had Blaine lived here? (As long as he could remember, they had moved here from Pennsylvania when he was very young.) And so on.

“What about your girlfriend?” Blaine finds himself saying after about an hour or so of sharing little facts about each other. He barely stops himself from slapping his hands over his mouth because he did not mean to say that.

Kurt doesn’t reply at first, but when he does, it’s a long and drawn out “What?”

Blaine doesn’t know where to go from here. Kurt is looking at him really oddly. Perhaps he offended the teen or something. “Uhm. You know. Your girlfriend, from the other day? Rachel, I think?” He stutters out.

Again, Kurt stares at him for several seconds. They are in complete silence, which is perhaps why Blaine jumps when Kurt literally bursts out laughing.

At first, Blaine feels like he should be angry, because Kurt must be laughing at him. But after several minutes have passed, and Kurt is still laughing, Blaine is just confused.

“Rachel will love this.” He says to himself after his little… episode.

“Uhm…” Is all Blaine can think to say.

“Blaine, I’m gay.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

            Blaine almost laughs at himself then, but stops when he sees the insecure look on Kurt’s face.

Oh.

“Well.” Blaine says, smiling wide, “In that case, would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

[akadrabbles]

Song: Move It Like This

Artist: The Baha Men

“If Finn tells me to sit down one more time…” Blaine muttered as he took his usual seat across from Kurt.

            “What? I find the banter between the two of you amusing, and your ferocity afterward endearing,” Kurt shrugged, taking an indifferent sip from his coffee.

            “I mean it,” growled Blaine into his own cup, eyes shifting angrily around the crowded coffee shop.

            Kurt smiled and offered a quiet chuckle, prompting Blaine’s furious glare to settle on him.

“Don’t look at me like I’m the one responsible for this.”

“I just don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”

“And I think you’re taking it much too seriously.”

At this, Blaine sighed and tried again, earnestly. “Back at Dalton—”

“I don’t want to hear your ‘back in my day’ stories, Grandpa Blaine,” Kurt interrupted teasingly. “If it’s really bothering you that much I can talk to Finn about it. I’m sure it’s no big deal. He can get really grumpy sometimes. I know he’s not the brightest but he’s kind of got a lot on his plate, with school and sports and family… I’m sure it’s stressful. We all get stressed sometimes, right?”

Ignoring the more gentle portions of Kurt’s speech, Blaine instead concentrated on a particularly offensive phrase.

“Talk to him? Yeah, right. I settle my own battles.” A momentary awkward silence passed, in which Kurt hadn’t the slightest clue how to reply and Blaine cracked his knuckles heatedly before faintly muttering, “I was in a fight club.”

“Okay, look, if you want to prove you’re better than him or something, you’ve got to beat him at something, preferably something you know he’s bad at,” Kurt suggested, unaware of the implications his proposal might bring about.

“Academics,” Blaine nodded, a triumphant and slightly mischievous grin on his face.

Kurt rolled his eyes impatiently. “Honestly, Blaine, when you get in these angry moods, I just don’t know what to do with you. I was thinking more like dancing.”

Blaine snapped his fingers excitedly. “Great idea! I’ll challenge him!”

Kurt nodded once and sighed, glad that the reign of Blaine’s temper over all other emotions had come to its conclusion, at least for the time being.

                                        __________________________________

  Rachel’s phone crackled in her ear and she knew something was wrong. Her service wasn’t that bad. She made a face but continued walking, holding the phone a little farther from her ear.

Distantly, she heard Finn’s voice. “Sorry! Sorry!” It came closer. “Sorry! I dropped the phone.”

Again, Rachel scrunched up her face in confusion. “Finn? Hello. I was just going to call because my dad texted me and said we could have you over for dinner tonight and I already told him to set you a plate, but—”

“Actually, I’m a little busy right now, but I’m sure I’ll be able to make it.”

Prepared to question him further, Rachel instead refrained upon noticing the strange echo effect in Finn’s response. She looked to her right, and beheld on the auditorium stage an odd scene. Mike stood defiantly, arms crossed, Finn awkwardly tall and uncoordinated even when standing motionlessly behind him. Artie, on the other hand, was flanked by Blaine—eyes burning passionately—and Kurt—eyes rolling apathetically.

“What’s going on here?” Rachel demanded.

Finn looked at his phone, momentarily confused, and then noticed her among the rows of seats. “Oh, just…”

“Blaine challenged Finn to a dance-off, so Artie gave him a few lessons while I did some work with Finn,” Mike explained. “Just good-natured fun, although for Blaine it might be a little more serious…”

“Wait, Artie?” Rachel asked.

“Back in the day before I got these wheels I was all about dancing. Don’t doubt me,” Artie said, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “Now,” he turned back to Mike and Finn, “after this long week of vigorous training, let’s see what knowledge you’ve acquired.”

            Mike stepped back and pressed play on the stereo and Rachel took a seat uncertainly. The resulting music was an appropriate selection, she thought distantly, the call-and-response lyrics practically challenging those dancing to display only their best moves. Rachel got comfortable, prepared for an all-out battle to ensue.

                                         __________________________________

“If it wasn’t for you and your inelegant self I would have won, Hudson.”

“Yeah, right. You and your five-foot-nothing self didn’t know what to do in the absence of your beloved furniture, Anderson.”

“Nice use of words, Finn,” Rachel interjected approvingly.

“Stop your bickering, you two. You both came out with fractured wrists so it’s evident you were both doing something wrong,” the nurse said, continuing her examination of the X-Rays

Rachel nodded in agreement. “The two of you did just fall off the stage; however near you were to each other, you weren’t the cause of the other’s mistake.”

“Just don’t be so clumsy or so caught up in anger next time,” Kurt said with a sigh. He stood. “Come on, Rachel, let’s go grab some coffee.”

The two exited, along with the nurse, leaving the room quietly. But unhealthy and unreasonable competitive natures are never silenced for long.

“Bet mine will heal fastest,” Blaine hissed venomously across the room, gingerly rubbing his wrist.

“Twenty bucks, you’re on.”

[akadrabbles]

I see the light -- Tangled

"All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you."

“It was great to see you again Sam! It’s been way too long.”

Sam grins apologetically, returning Mercedes’s hug, “I know. I’ve got to work on that but I wasn’t going to miss your opening night!”

Mercedes pulls back, beaming, “I still can’t believe it, Sam. I actually made it. It took six years but I did it.”

“I told you, back in high school, that we’d be seeing your name in lights. It was just a matter of time.” Sam replies and Mercedes hugs him again.

Shane walks out of the venue then and, spotting Mercedes and Sam, heads over. He’s smiling and a little misty eyed, though he’d probably never admit it. Sam can nearly see how proud Shane is of his wife.

“Man, did you see her up there. She owned that stage.” Shane loops his arm around Mercedes and Mercedes leans in to him, her face lighting up at the compliment.

They’re the perfect image of a happy couple and Sam wonders how he could ever think he had the right to come between the two.

“The rest of us are heading out to a celebratory dinner. Can we expect you there?” Sam falters. He hasn’t seen the rest of his high school Glee club in almost two years and he misses them but seeing how happy everyone was with their significant other just reminded Sam how alone he was.

“As much as I want to, I’ll have to take a rain check. I’ve got an early flight.” Mercedes frowns, eyeing him and Sam panics internally, praying she can’t see through the lie. If she knows, she doesn’t say anything, just sighs and gives him another hug.

“It was really great to see you Sam. We all missed you.” And with that, she and Shane head back in to the venue to meet the others.

Sam had gotten the invite to Mercedes’ Broadway debut a month before and he’d spent most of the following weeks fretting about going or not. He wanted to see his friends again but he had been sure it would be a huge ball of awkward between him, Mercedes and Shane. High school had been a mess of confusion and there was a time when Sam and Mercedes thought there was the slightest possibility of something between them.

Long story short, eventually both Sam and Mercedes realized their summer fling was the result of loneliness on both parts and they both resolved to be good friends.

Still, since Sam tended to over think things, he spent a good amount of time freaking out over meeting up again.

Turns out he had no real reason to worry. Mercedes was delighted to see him again and they still got along great. Shane and he even hit it off pretty well.

Which is why he really wished he would have gone with them to celebrate and catch up.

He was being petty but he couldn’t help it. His last relationship had ended with a lot of screaming and throwing things but he’d been with the girl for three years.

He’d moved on but he missed having somebody next to him. Being with New Directions was great but it was also a constant reminder that he didn’t have his own special someone.

So, instead of going out, he was going to go back to his hotel and drown his sorrows in eight dollar bottles of Tequila.

He decided to cut through Central Park. New York was a beautiful place and Sam figured he’d give himself a few minutes of quiet luxury in one of the city’s most historical places before getting drunk out of his mind.

He sighed, taking a seat on a bench, eyes closed and mind blank expect for the sound of busy traffic. He could definitely get used to this.

“Peaceful, isn’t it? You would think it’d be hard to find anything like this in the big city.”

Sam started, head jerking up in disbelief. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Quinn.”

“Sam.” Quinn smiled and Sam was up in an instant, gathering her in his arms.

Out of everyone, Quinn had been the one Sam had missed the most. He had been looking forward to seeing her tonight but she hadn’t showed and he hadn’t asked.

“Wow Q. I mean…just wow. It’s been so long.” Quinn laughed and Sam couldn’t help smiling because Quinn’s laugh had always been ridiculously infectious.

“Far too long,” She sighed, “I wanted to come tonight but I work part time at a Starbucks and the hours are crazy.”

“Oh, are you heading home?” Sam resisted the urge to frown. He had missed Quinn. Apparently a lot more then he realized because he really wasn’t looking forward to saying goodbye so quickly.

She eyed him for a second, “No. I was on my way to the store. Andy’s hungry and I’ve yet to go shopping.”

Oh. Oh.

There was an Andy.

Sam couldn’t understand why he suddenly wanted to throw this Andy person under a bus but he didn’t think the amount of hatred he felt for this unknown guy would be deemed healthy.

He fidgeted slightly. The way Quinn was studying him made him uncomfortable. He wondered if she could tell he was plotting Andy’s demise. Maybe she would know why.

“Why can’t Andy do the shopping?” Sam prided himself on keeping his tone neutral. He didn’t sound jealous at all.

Wait, what?

Sam paused at the thought. There was no way he was jealous of Quinn’s boyfriend. Quinn was one of his best friends. Whatever they had was left in high school. He wasn’t jealous. He was just protective.

Quinn smirked, her eyes lighting up in amusement, “Too dangerous. The pound might think he’s a stray and pick him up.”

Quinn laughed out loud then. Sam’s face was priceless.

“Andy is my cat, Sam.” Quinn assured, having finally caught her breath.

Sam felt his face heat up. He shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, though he only appeared to be making Quinn laugh more, “Good, yeah. I mean, no, not good. Just…yeah.”

He would never admit it but Sam was pretty sure he’d never been more relieved in his life.

Andy was a cat and Sam was getting worked up over nothing.

“Would you like to come with me to get Andy food?” Sam blinks, caught off guard, but suddenly ecstatic that Quinn asked.

“Yeah. That would be cool.” He replies. Seeing Quinn’s bright smile makes his stomach flip but he doesn’t want to think about what that means right now.

“You could…” Quinn pauses, biting her lip nervously, “I mean to say…if you’d like, you could stay for dinner?” It’s Quinn’s turn to fidget but Sam is quick –maybe a little too quick- to settle her nerves.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Quinn’s smile is almost as wide as his as she grabs his hands and leads them away from the park bench.

Once upon a time Sam had been in love with Quinn.

And all stories that start as such have a happy ending don’t they?