#blinnurt

[sleepinnude-blog]

kublinn:2/3 of them get sick and the remaining one has to take care of them

prompted by tegan <3 -

When Blaine arrived at the Hudmel household halfway through the winter break, he was expecting the usual business: cooking and then dinner, television and cuddling and then movies and more cuddling and falling asleep on the couch, flanked by pretty much the two greatest boys/loves of his life until Finn carried him upstairs over his shoulders and then waking up next to those two greatest boys/loves of his life. 

Instead, there's no answer at the door. Burt and Carole had some out-of-town business but Kurt and Finn's car were both in the drive and it's not like this a surprise visit or anything. He shot a text off to Kurt and waited. A moment later  the door opened and revealed Kurt, looking decidedly...un-Kurt. His hair was rumpled and his nose was red, a blanket over his shoulders and he was wearing one of Finn's clothes: a tee shirt and sweatpants and a pair of Blaine's socks. "Oh, Blaine," he greeted, voice rasped and worn.

"You're sick," Blaine cooed immediately, moving past him and getting rid of his coat and shoes.

Kurt pulled an irritated face and nods, interrupted by a sneeze.

"Bless you," Blaine offered fondly.

"We're both sick," Kurt explained with a sigh. "I told Finn to text you not to come but I guess he forgot. Or fell asleep. The whole day has been sort of a blur of napping and fever."

Blaine frowned at that and reached up to press his hand to Kurt's forehead. "Oooh, you're burning up all right."

A snuffle and then a nod. "And Finn's no better." Kurt led him into the living room where Finn was laid out over the couch, wrapped in a blanket and asleep. Balled tissues dotted the couch and coffee table and the lights were dimmed. As soon as they reached the couch, Kurt flopped back down, settling along Finn's side.

"You poor things," Blaine hummed out sympathetically. He sat on the edge of the couch and ran a hand over Finn's forehead, just as hot as Kurt's. The boy stirred slightly but not much else.

"Seriously, Blaine," Kurt mumbled, eyes already slipping closed. "You should just go home. We'll get you sick and all we're good for is sleeping and whining about wanting to sleep."

That explains how Blaine's plans for the evening changed.

Instead of cooking and dinner, he trailed through the kitchen, finding chicken noodle soup (low sodium and Kurt would bitch about it being canned but it was practically law of being sick) and set it on the stove, adding the tea kettle as well. He brought the two bowls in and managed to coax both the boys awake and into eating some. Finn sent him a fond, fuzzy smile upon realizing that this wasn't a dream, Blaine was there.

They sat along the couch afterward, Finn sprawled against one armrest, Blaine between his legs and Kurt dropping his head to Blaine's lap. Blaine was content to stroke hair and press kisses and link fingers and pass tissues when asked. Gene Wilder turned a somersault on the television in the background and every so often Blaine would rub a hand down Kurt's back to soothe a coughing fit or comb fingers through Finn's hair as he tossed a little in his sleep.

He was caught, several times, by the sight of how soft Finn was in sleep. Hair tousled and eyes a little swollen and cheeks bright, his entire body aching out to be held and taken care of and touched. Kurt was the opposite, all curled up and tucking his head into himself. He was, however, wound entirely around Finn and Blaine, stretching out and craving them like he didn't want to admit it.

And then, when it got late and there was snow falling and a worried call from Burt and Carole had been fielded, Blaine and Kurt steadied Finn up the stairs and into Kurt's room where the stepbrothers fell into bed easily. Blaine moved around them seamlessly for a moment, removing socks and adjusting pillows and covers and setting glasses of water and kissing Kurt's complaints about his skincare routine away.

Once everything was taken care of, Blaine climbed into bed with them. Finn was curled on one side, turned into Kurt's side. Blaine claimed the other side of Kurt, nosing up his neck and pulling the covers tight around the three of them. He wished them quiet goodnights in the dim, fevered air and pressed kisses to Finn's jaw and Kurt's collarbone before slipping into sleep himself.

The evening hadn't been as he expected, but it wasn't something he necessarily minded.

[vfyiubgoiubuio]

I WANT PROMPTS TO FILL

PLEEEEEAAASSSEEEE??

[the-cimmerians]

Not sure how to feel about Finn's prickliness with Blaine...

On the one hand, Blaine is so adorbs and enthusiastic and endearing, and Douche!Finn is my least-favorite Finn, so I HAZ A SAD.

...on the other hand, I kind of have a vested interest in writing fic where Finn and Blaine bicker relentlessly before they passionately hatefuck each other, so...

:-\

[fiftyeightminutes]

Huddleson.

Oh, man.  I don't really have one specific fic idea for them, because there is so little that already exists.  I just want everything.  I suppose that if I had the time, I would write something long and fairly angsty about how they get together as a polyamorous threesome, because that would not be easy given all of their circumstances.  It would end happily, but there would definitely be some insecurities and jealousy from both Kurt and Blaine, and Finn would be confused as fuck because, wtf I thought I was straight, but now I love my stepbrother and his boyfriend.

For those who still don't know, Huddleson is what Sophie, Shane, and I are trying to get people to rename Blinnurt.  It just sounds so much better.

[sleepinnude-blog]

Orbits Like Ours: a Kurt/Blaine/Finn fic

Blinnurt, but I prefer Kublinn XD My first time writing these three particular but Murphy and Tegan suckered me into it and then Murphy asked for it for her birthday and this is a little late but here it is! Hope y'all enjoy ^^

-

It's not that complicated when it happens.

It's complicated when they stop and think about it and try to cut its corners and make it work with the round hole that society has given them. If they tried to tell other people about it and explain how it is and how they all work. Then it's complicated. Then it comes down to terms and definitions and words like "step-brothers" and "boyfriends" and "sexuality."

But when it's just them they can strip all the ink from their beings and settle into a place where names and others don't matter and they can just be what they are: three boys who love each other and settle around each other easier than anything they had ever tried before.

Kurt has doubts most out of all of them. He thinks that Blaine and Finn are closer to each other than either are to him, when he finds them talking excitedly about sports, when he drops off, dozing against one of their shoulders, as they shake fists at referees on television, as they watch with something like hardened envy in their eyes while Kurt and Burt interact. He thinks that Finn isn't in this with his whole heart, when he does that thing where he retreats a little from a kiss or a touch, shades of discomfort playing over his features. He thinks that Blaine will get to jealous of him and Finn, when Blaine has to leave at the end of the night and he holds just a little tighter, just a little too long when saying his goodbyes.

It's all for nothing, though, because he has nothing to worry about and the moments that remind him of that are far more numerous than those that make him worry. He loves them both, equally and wholly, and they him back and in the same manner. So that when he's pressed alongside Finn, head tucked under his chin, listening to the other boy drift in and out of turmoil of McKinley's hierarchy, he can press one hand to Finn's cheek and sift the other through Blaine's curls where the other boy's head is settled at the center of Finn's chest making soft sounds of assent and urging Finn on to say more. And when Finn reaches up to take Kurt's hand in his and let them rest on his collar, other hand drifting up Blaine's side under his shirt and Blaine puts his toes to Kurt's calf... Then Kurt couldn't imagine being anywhere else, couldn't imagine not having Blaine or not having Finn.

Just like he knows everything is right even when he's being tackled to the ground by Blaine and he has actual mud on his clothes but Blaine is laughing with bright cheeks and November sun crinkling his eyes like that. And he doesn't get up, not right away, hands propping him up to hover over Kurt, smiling at him with adoration that Kurt can't believe is for him. Then Finn wanders over and hoists up Blaine up by the armpits and pats him on the back with just a little to much force but also with a proud laugh and a "Good job, dude!" and then turns to offer Kurt a hand, worried little smile at thinking that Kurt is pissed from soiled clothes. Kurt just grins up at him though and takes the offered hand they all laugh at the mud that somehow ended up in Blaine's hair. There'll be a shared shower later with exhausted muscles and kisses spread over shoulders and Kurt pressing up against Finn, back to front, who's pressed against the tiles while Blaine is on his knees between his legs and the water falls around them all. And then even later applause and announcers' voices will drone into the background and sync up with the tryptophan-carbohydrate cocktail to lullaby the boys to sleep, slung over each other (Kurt's head in Blaine's lap, his legs slung over Finn's, Finn's arm stretched over the back of the couch to stroke through Blaine's damp hair).

He loves tossing Blaine one of Finn's sweatshirts to wear when he comes over late on Saturday mornings because he loves the way Blaine lingers when he pulls it on, settling into the scent and he loves to laugh at how it's mammoth over Blaine's frame and he loves the fondness that comes to Finn's sleepy eyes when he stumbles downstairs and sees Blaine wearing his clothes. He loves sitting between Finn's legs with a guitar in his lap as Blaine points to frets and Finn curls his fingers the right way. He even loves Finn turning the mixer to high speed before putting the beaters into the batter because he loves the surprised laughter and the way Blaine looks with chocolate slung over his nose and caught in his eyelashes and the finger Finn drags over his own cheek and tastes and grins.

And sometimes, not often but sometimes, he worries about his father. He wonders what Burt would think if he knew. He wonders how he would take it and if he would be angry or hesitant. He wonders. It's not often though. Because sometimes he seems him, and Carole too even, watching the three of them together on the Hudmel's living room couch, arguing playfully over movies, or seeing them all huddled in Finn's room, sitting close together with hands tangled as Finn works through anger and something deeper of the fucked-up-ness of where they are. Because those times, those times where Kurt's heart skips a beat and his eyes skip over his father's face an extra second, there's only a brief moment of hesitation before Burt's face slackens with something like fondness and affection and usually he'll sigh something soft and content and go back to the game or the paper or his meal.

And Kurt likes to think that's because maybe, just maybe and always definitely, all this, these three boys are just exactly...right.

[fiftyeightminutes]

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My Crackships (in no particular order): Huddleson