NEW! Chapter 19: An Artic Prison (Reaction fic to episode 6x01) What if Elliot interfered long before Sue ever had to?
You can read this one-shot as a stand-alone chapter.
Kurt is meticulously folding Blaine’s clothes and putting them in the good boxes he bought to protect them. He’s stiff and silent, trying to ignore Elliot’s scrutinizing gaze in the corner.
“Kurt! This is bullshit, and you know it,” Elliot says tenderly, his voice choked with the emotion in the room.
“I need some space from him,” is all Kurt replies.
“Space? No. No, that’s not what you two needed at all. If anything, this place is too big.”
Everyone does dumb shit in high school. Some people skip classes too many times, or cheat on their tests. Kurt Hummel gets drunk and eats thirty-five diet pudding cups.
guess who isn’t deaddddddddd. big thanks to mailroomorder who encouraged me to just write a dumb one-shot to get back into my creative writing gear. this is based off a tumblr post i saw the other day that inspired me in the way only dumb shit can (link to the post on ao3 -- link to ao3 in the sidebar). hope you enjoy!!
i.
It all starts at a dumb party Kurt’s junior year of high school.
Finn makes him come, claiming he wants his friends to get to know his new step-brother better. Kurt tries to argue that he’s actually known all these people since kindergarten, just as Finn has, and they just have different interests, but Finn is insistent. Kurt should have known that his dad marrying the most popular guy in school’s mom would come back to bite him in the ass.
Finn spends the entire ride to the party telling Kurt in great detail about everybody on the baseball team, going into the specifics of why he thinks Kurt will get along with each specific person.
“—and Ryder puts a lot of care into his hair, no idea why. And Mike is super into dancing and musicals and shit, so you’ll have a lot to talk about. And Puck may not look it, but he’s actually super invested in skin care for some reason. Oh, and Blaine is really into fashion, and musicals, too. He and Mike are actually always talking about—”
On, and on for the entire twenty minute ride to David Karofsky’s house.
By the time they arrive, Kurt is more than thankful that Finn agreed to be the designated driver for once, because Kurt really doesn’t think that he’ll be able to survive the evening sober if Finn is going to keep that up all night.
The first thing he does when he arrives is force Finn to show him where all the drinks are, and to show him how to make the mixed drink with the highest alcohol content but least amount of alcohol taste.
He knows he’ll probably regret it, but as soon as Finn finishes the drink, he downs the whole thing in as few gulps as possible, then holds out his cup so that Finn will make him another. Because Finn is a terrible influence, instead of suggesting he maybe stick to just one for now, he grins and says, “Fuck yeah, Kurt!” and pours even more crap into his cup.
The second drink doesn’t last long either, as Kurt feels the need to take a long pull from it every single time Finn drags him to someone new and says, “Hey, this is my new step-brother, Kurt,” to somebody that Kurt has literally known his entire life. He then has to take yet another drink when whoever it is inevitably says, “Yo, hey, great to meet you!” as though it actually is the first time they’re meeting.
To be fair, Finn and Kurt seem to have arrived a bit late, and so most of these people are already three sheets to the wind, but still.
The only person who doesn’t respond that way is Blaine Anderson, who stares at Finn for a few moments after he introduces Kurt, then sends a confused smile Kurt’s way and says, “Finn, you know that I know Kurt, right? We have calculus together and were in the same class every year in primary school.”
“Well, yeah,” Finn replies. “But now he’s Kurt my step-brother. So, you know. It’s different.”
Kurt’s eyes widen and he looks down at his nearly empty cup before lifting it to his lips and draining it. When he looks up, he sees Blaine giving him an amused smile and then saying, “Top you off?”
“Please,” Kurt says, allowing Blaine to finally drag him away from Finn.
He’s feeling pretty tipsy by the time Blaine hands him his new drink. It’s different than what Finn made him, but still good, and Kurt drinks half of it in one go.
“Whoa, there,” Blaine says, chuckling as he pours himself a drink. “Rough night?”
“Oh, you know,” Kurt says, glancing around the room. “Just enjoying being paraded around like a new toy and realizing just how inconsequential I’ve been to the people I’ve gone to school with for literally ever.”
Blaine snorts. “They’re just drunk, and probably indulging Finn a little bit. Guy’s really happy you two are brothers now.”
“Clearly,” Kurt replies, eyes falling on Finn who is excitedly pointing in his direction as he talks to a couple of cheerleaders. “Thanks for acknowledging we’ve met before.”
He turns back in time to see Blaine raise his cup and take a long drink from it. Kurt raises his own as well, then downs the rest of his own drink. He winces a little as he does it, but then holds his cup out to Blaine for one more. Blaine presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, but still pours him another one.
“Pace yourself, yeah?”
“Will do, Mom.”
Blaine laughs, shaking his head a little. “You’re alright Hummel, you know that?”
Kurt shrugs and gives him a, ‘Duh’, face, which just makes Blaine laugh some more.
“Come on,” Blaine says, grabbing Kurt by the wrist. “I’ve just decided I want you as my beer pong partner for the night.”
Kurt’s never played beer pong before, or really any party game, but he goes along happily. Anything to get him away from Finn’s endless crusade to introduce him to every single popular kid at their school.
**
An hour later finds Kurt sitting on a ratty old couch, wasted, with an equally wasted Blaine Anderson laughing up against him.
“We’re so bad at beer pong,” Blaine says, head falling onto Kurt’s shoulder as he laughs. “So, so bad.”
Kurt laughs along with him. “So bad,” he closes his eyes as he laughs some more, then widens them as he lets out a loud burp. He and Blaine stare at each other for a second and then burst out laughing again.
“So much for pacing myself,” Kurt says, covering his mouth with his hand. It just makes Blaine laugh some more.
They laugh and laugh until Blaine sits up a little bit and says, “I’m so hungry.”
Kurt frowns, suddenly realizing that he’s hungry as well. “Well, let’s go eat something, come on.”
Blaine stares at him with wide eyes, then nods and says. “Yes. Yes, amazing idea.” He stands, wobbling a little once he’s on his feet, then drags Kurt up with him. Kurt wobbles a little as well, grabbing onto Blaine’s shoulders to steady himself. Once they’re both good, Blaine grabs his hand and says, “Come on, I know where Dave’s parents hide the good shit.”
The good shit, it turns out, is an insane hoard of diet pudding cups. Apparently Dave’s parents have been dieting together for a while, and diet pudding cups are the only sweet they’ve allowed themselves, because there are really a ridiculous amount of them in the back of the pantry.
“Oh, my god,” Kurt says as he stares at them. “I love diet pudding cups.”
“Me, too,” Blaine says, grabbing a butterscotch one and digging in. Kurt just keeps staring at all of them, taking in all the flavors, completely overwhelmed.
“Blaine, I can’t choose,” he whines after a while. Blaine is already scooping out the last of his own pudding cup and stares up at him with giant eyes.
“Well, here,” Blaine says, handing him one of the spoons they grabbed from the kitchen. “Just like, eat all of them.”
And Kurt, of course, being the idiot drunk teenager that he is, grabs the spoon and says, “You have the most amazing ideas,” before picking up a random pudding cup.
In Kurt’s defense, everybody does stupid shit in high school.
ii.
Kurt still barely feels human by Monday morning. Finn laughs at him the entire ride to school, and Kurt silently bares it until they reach the McKinley High parking lot. There, he storms out of the car and walks away, throwing Finn the middle finger as he goes because, dammit, this is his fault.
He doesn’t turn back to see Finn, but he can hear him laughing as he hurries to follow Kurt into the school.
He’s just settled all his things in his locker and grabbed what he needs for his first two periods when Dave Karofsky and Blaine Anderson walk up to him. Blaine looks just as hellish as Kurt feels, which he has to admit is a relief. Dave looks about as amused as Finn, which basically throws all the relief Kurt’s felt at seeing Blaine out the window.
“Hey there, Diet Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Dave greets him, and the sheer words cause nausea to swirl in Kurt’s stomach.
“Please don’t,” Kurt whispers, shutting his locker shut.
“No, dude, I’m super impressed,” Dave says, clapping him on the back and causing Kurt to wince. “I think I counted thirty-seven empty cups when I was cleaning up the next day. Never knew you had it in you.”
“In my defense,” Kurt says, closing his eyes for a moment, “Blaine ate two.”
Blaine groans, and yeah, Kurt realizes that that’s not really a great defense.
“So, thirty-five diet pudding cups.” Dave laughs, then claps him on the back again and says, “My fucking man,” before heading down the hall, leaving Kurt alone with Blaine.
Kurt turns to the other boy and glares. “This is your fault.”
Blaine has one eye closed. “Yep.”
“I threw up four times on Saturday.”
“Oh god, shut up,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder.
“I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups, Blaine.”
Blaine raises his head and asks, “Does it make you feel better to know that the entire baseball team thinks you’re a legend now?”
Kurt sighs heavily, shaking his head. “At least they’ll all actually remember me now.”
Blaine smiles at him, chuckling a little. “Oh yeah. Nobody is forgetting Diet Pudding Cup Boy anytime soon.”
Kurt groans and Blaine laughs at him the entire rest of the way to Calculus.
iii.
“Yo, Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Blaine greets him as he settles into the spot next to Kurt in the library. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
Kurt turns away from his laptop to give Blaine an unimpressed stare. “You know, I think I liked it better when I was Diet Pudding Cup Boy. At least it gave the semblance of health.”
“Too long,” Blaine says, waving his comment away. “Seriously, though. All the schools you applied to are in New York?”
Kurt frowns. “Yeah? I thought I told you that.”
“Uh, no,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “What the hell! We could have coordinated. Made sure we applied to places in the same area so we could be roommates.”
Kurt’s frown instantly turns to a grin. “Wait. So, you—”
“Yes, you freaking dork.”
“Oh, my god!” Kurt throws his arms around his friend, pulling him in for a tight hug. Blaine laughs as he hugs Kurt back, briefly tucking his head into Kurt’s shoulder as he does. “Blaine, this is amazing!”
“I know,” Blaine grins as they separate. “Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme take on the Big Apple.”
“You know, I’m too excited about the fact that we’ll be in New York together to even care that you just said that.” Kurt says, which makes Blaine laugh some more. Kurt keeps grinning at him for a moment, then says, “Actually, no—”
“Kurt, come on, this is going to be great! I was so nervous about moving to New York, you know, not knowing anybody. Now turns out one of my best friends is going to be there with me!”
Even though it’s been over a year since the fateful baseball party that brought them together, Kurt sometimes still can’t believe that Blaine Anderson considers him one of his best friends. It makes his insides feel all warm inside every time he hears Blaine say it.
“I can’t believe we didn’t talk about this. I could have sworn I told you I was applying to NYADA and NYU.”
“You didn’t, you rascal,” Blaine says, knocking his shoulder lightly. “It’s fine, though. I’ll forgive you if you promise you won’t abandon me for all your cool theater friends when we get there.”
Kurt scoffs at that. “Please, Blaine. As if Pudding Cup Boy could ever abandon his trusty sidekick… what did you call yourself?”
“Shortstop Supreme. And, no offense, but you’re the sidekick.”
Kurt stares at him, bewildered. “Um. No.”
Blaine laughs. “Kurt, you’re Pudding Cup Boy. Come on, man. You’re the sidekick.”
Kurt opens his mouth to argue, but then another thought occurs to him. “Oh, jeez. I just realized Pudding Cup Boy is going to follow me to New York, isn’t it?”
Blaine throws his arm around him and pulls him close, grinning and saying, “You know it,” before the librarian finally comes over to tell them to shut up.
iv.
Blaine greets him by shouting, “Hey, Pudding Motherfucker,” from about twenty feet away. Despite himself, Kurt can’t help but laugh as Blaine continues walking towards him, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.
Kurt stands up from the bench he’s on just moments before Blaine arrives to wrap him in a tight hug. Kurt hugs him back just as tight, then pulls away to grab his coffee from Blaine before anything unfortunate happens to it.
“I don’t think that’s an upgrade from Pudding Boy,” is how he replies after taking a careful sip of his drink.
“Well, it’s what you’ll continue to be until you make more time in your life for your best friend.” They sit down on the bench, Blaine instantly shuffling closer to Kurt. “I mean, come on, Kurt. It’s been almost a month since I last saw you.”
“We literally text every day,” Kurt says, chuckling. “Also, if I recall correctly, we were going to hang out two weeks ago, but somebody cancelled at the last minute because the cute guy in his Creative Writing class asked him to get coffee.”
Blaine scowls and turns away. “Whatever. At least I cancelled to get laid. You always cancel for lame reasons, like work or homework.”
Kurt snorts at that. “Blaine, you told me after that he was the most boring person alive, and that when he asked you for your number after coffee you told him you didn’t believe in cell phones.”
Blaine’s cheeks color, and Kurt bursts out laughing. Blaine mutters, “Shut up. See if I ever buy you coffee again.”
“Oh, whatever,” Kurt says, tapping him on the shoulder. “You know you will, because you love me.”
“Nope,” Blaine says, throwing his chin up in the air. “You’re a dick, and I hate you.”
“You loooooove me,” Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s shoulder and stares up at him, fluttering his eyelashes. “Admit it, Shortstop. You love me. Come on, say it.”
“Pudding Motherfucker is right,” Blaine grumbles, which just makes Kurt cackle.
“Come on,” he says, pulling them off the bench. “Let’s take a walk while I remind you of all the reasons you love me.”
“There are none,” Blaine says, and it just makes Kurt laugh some more.
v.
Despite attending different universities, by the time their junior year rolls around Kurt and Blaine have somehow managed to find a decently sized group of mutual friends. They’re a mix of Blaine’s Columbia classmates, Kurt’s classmates from NYU, and a few NYADA strays they picked up after a night at a karaoke bar.
It’s surprising to Kurt how many of his close friendships have been forged over drunken nights out.
It’s hard for all of them to get together on the regular, due to conflicting schedules and the fact that they’re all widely spread throughout the city, but when they do it’s always a blast.
“Hey, Puddin’,” Blaine says, greeting Kurt by hugging him from behind. Kurt leans his body into it for a moment, enjoying the closeness his friendship with Blaine always affords.
“We dropped the boy, huh Shortstop?”
“Too much of a mouthful,” Blaine says, shrugging and placing a large glass Tupperware on the counter of Kurt’s kitchen. “Can I help you out with anything?”
Kurt points in the direction of a cabinet and says, “Can you grab the veggie plate thing for me and start throwing these on there,” he nods his head down to the large selections of vegetables on the cutting board in front of him. “And then the hummus and ranch from the fridge? I’m almost finished cutting these up.”
“You got it, boss,” Blaine says, moving around Kurt’s kitchen with the ease of somebody who spends way too much time in someone else’s house. “Did Rachel tell you that she’s bringing some guy with her today?”
“Oh, god. Another one?”
Blaine laughs, pulling down the serving plate. “Second this semester. How long do you think this one will last?”
“No idea, but I can tell you this – if by the next one of these she’s got another one in tow, I’m not making the effort to get to know him anymore. I can’t keep investing all this small talk in random straight guys I’m never going to see again.”
“What a struggle,” Blaine simpers, tapping Kurt on the back with the plate. “Our life is so hard.”
“It is,” Kurt replies, sticking his tongue out at his friend. “Now, come on. Get to vegetable serving. You said you wanted to help.”
Blaine chuckles. “Aye, aye Captain Pudding.”
“You know, Blaine,” Kurt says as Blaine starts to place the vegetables on the plate. “A lot of people would probably be offended that you still call them a dumb nickname born of a night of drunken idiocy when they were sixteen.”
“Yeah, but those people aren’t you,” Blaine says, grinning up at him. “I mean, name someone else as legendary as Thirty-Five Pudding Cups Hummel.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “They were diet pudding cups, thank you very much.”
“See?” Blaine bumps their hips together. “Legend.”
Kurt chuckles and finishes cutting up his carrots, Blaine practically pressed to his side as they work.
vi.
“You have to sing it with me,” Blaine is holding his arm tightly, dragging Kurt down so that they’re eye to eye. His breath smells like vodka and raspberries, and his eyes are wide and wild. “Come on, Kurt. Come on, come on, come on.”
“Blaine, I told you, I have a firm no songs before the 80’s rule.”
“It’s a classic. Please, Puddin’, for me?”
Kurt stares at him, the three shots he’d done early making his thought process a little slower. “Oh, my god,” he says, jaw dropping. “That’s why you want to sing it with me.”
“What?” Blaine pulls away a little, face filling with completely put-upon confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Build Me Up Buttercup? With Pudding Cup Boy? Uh-uh. No way, mister.”
“Kurt,” Blaine drags out the ‘u’ in his name, clinging to Kurt once again. “Please, you have to!”
“Oh, my god,” Elliott says, suddenly appearing beside them. “Can you just give your man what he wants? Jesus Christ, Kurt.”
“I don’t want to,” Kurt replies. “He just wants to sing it because—”
“Who fucking cares. It’s like a three minute song, just do it and get it over with.”
Blaine is staring up at him with those dumb puppy dog eyes of his, eyelashes fluttering wildly, lips pouted. Kurt groans.
“Fine.”
“Yes!” Blaine jumps up, presses a quick kiss to Kurt’s cheek and then hurries off to sign them up to sing.
“Thanks for the support there, El.”
Elliott shrugs, clearly unapologetic. “Come on, man, you know the saying. Happy wife, happy life!”
Kurt scowls. “Blaine is far from my wife, Elliott.”
“Whatever, potato, po-tah-to. Keep your man happy and everything will be good. Trust me on that.”
He pats Kurt on the back, then heads over to the table filled with their mutual friends. Kurt watches him go, brain still working far too slowly to catch up to the implications of what Elliott is saying.
Elliott is already long gone by the time he finally manages to say, “Blaine isn’t my man.”
“What?” Blaine asks, appearing next to Kurt.
Kurt jumps a little. “Jeez, Blaine. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Not my fault I’m so tiny you never notice me,” Blaine huffs, chest puffing out in fake annoyance.
Despite it all, Kurt laughs. “You are tiny. Short stuff.”
“Uh, wrong,” Blaine holds up a hand. “It’s Shortstop, and I prefer to go by my Christian name, Shortstop Supreme.”
“Whatever, short stuff.”
Blaine scowls up at him. “I think Pudding Motherfucker might have just made a comeback.”
Kurt laughs again and wraps his arm around a pouting Blaine, leading him back to the rest of their friends.
vii.
The graduation party is held at Blaine, Sam, and Mercedes’s apartment, since all their graduation ceremonies were almost a full week after everybody else’s, and they insisted that nobody else could party until they were all officially graduated.
It’s a small party, for just their close friends, but you’d think that there was an army invited by the amount of alcohol their hosts provide.
“I don’t know when the next time we get to let loose like this will be,” is how Blaine explains it to Kurt, clinging to his side. It’s clear that Blaine had already broken at least a couple of these bottles in before everybody else arrived. “Since we’re all graduated and adults now. Have to get jobs and shit. Ew.”
Kurt laughs and doesn’t bother to tell Blaine that the next time they’ll ‘let loose’ like this will probably be within the month. Instead he just makes himself a drink and lets Blaine wrap his arms around his middle and rest his head against his shoulder blade.
“We met at a party; do you remember?” Blaine asks.
Kurt snorts. “We met in kindergarten, Blaine.”
“Well, yeah, but we officially met at a party. I made you a drink, and then you ate thirty-five pudding cups.”
Kurt chuckles, picking up his drink in one hand and wrapping the other around Blaine’s shoulders. “How could I forget when you still call me Puddin’ to this day?”
“Such a fun nickname,” Blaine says, grinning. “Although, hey. Full disclosure. Mercedes and Sam think we’re dating because of it.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yes. And also because of how you’re always here, and we get dinner with them all the time. They call them ‘double dates’.”
“And do you correct them on that?”
Blaine looks up at him, frowning a little. “Do I?”
Kurt laughs. “Oh, Blaine.” He pulls his friend in closer. “Whatever. They’re not the first people to think that.”
“Yeah, and guess what? People can think whatever they want.”
“They sure can.”
“Because you’re my Puddin’. Forever, and ever. Okay?”
“You know it.”
Blaine grips his forearm tightly with both hands, staring up at him with slight crazy eyes. “I said, okay?”
Kurt laughs, then pulls Blaine back to his side and says, “Yes, Blaine. Forever and ever. Okay.”
“Good,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder. “Now can you please hurry up and get drunk? This all feels very uneven.”
“You got it, boss,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes fondly as he starts to drink.
viii.
“Hey,” Rachel and Mercedes are already sitting at a booth by the time Kurt arrives. Mercedes looks behind his shoulder and says, “Isn’t Blaine joining us, too?”
Kurt nods, settling himself into the booth. “He got held up at work, but he’ll be here in a few.”
“Good, good,” Rachel says, nodding. “So, things are going well for him then, I assume?”
Kurt nods again, picking up the menu. “From what he’s told me. I mean, he’s basically a glorified intern at this point, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right?”
The looks the girls give him tell him that they know exactly what he’s talking about.
When the waiter arrives, they give him their drink orders, with Mercedes encouraging Kurt to order for Blaine. Their drinks arrive before Blaine has, and so Kurt decides to just order Blaine’s food for him as well. They’ve all been to this restaurant enough times that he can make a fairly educated guess as to what his best friend will want after a long day.
“It’s sweet you guys know each other so well,” Mercedes says once the waiter walks away with their menus and orders. “I don’t think Sam could order for me, even if he tried.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “Well, Blaine is pretty obnoxiously open about the things he enjoys. Makes it hard not to know what he likes.”
“You still pay attention, though,” Rachel says. She sighs. “And he’s the same with you. Just wait until you see what he got you for your birthday, I swear you’re going to die. Even I didn’t remember that you’d said you wanted that, and I pride myself on my attention to detail.”
“That’s kind of what happens when you’re best friends for…” it takes him a moment to calculate. “Wow, going on seven years now. Jeez, when did we get so old?”
Mercedes and Rachel share a look, then Rachel starts in on a story about the theater company she’s currently working with.
Blaine finally arrives just as Rachel is finishing up. He scoots into the booth next to Kurt and says, “Sorry I’m late,” to everybody. Then, he grins at Kurt and says, “Hey, Puddin’.”
“Hey,” Kurt responds, ignoring the fond smiles that Rachel and Mercedes shoot at them. “We already ordered, sorry if you wanted something different.”
“Kurt got you some Greek salad or something,” Mercedes says.
“You,” Blaine points at him, finger directly in Kurt’s face. “Are amazing. A true gem.” He then uses the finger to bop Kurt on the nose and then slides closer to him in the booth until their thighs are pressed together.
“Yeah, I know,” Kurt replies, with a smile. He shifts a little, his right arm stuck between him and Blaine, until he manages to pull it out and sling it over the back of the booth. “Did you get that… what was the problem again? Broken printer? Fax machine?” Blaine is smirking up at him, clearly amused. “Whatever, did you get it sorted out?”
“Mostly,” Blaine says. “It was a corrupted hard drive, and it was the big boss’s, so you know. High pressure. I think it’s fine now, but I’m going to have to head back in early tomorrow to triple check.”
“Freaking IT nerd,” Kurt says, chuckling.
“Whatever, drama queen. Oh!” Blaine’s eyes widen and he turns to fully face Kurt. “How’d your callback go?”
“Callback?” Mercedes and Rachel ask at the same time.
Kurt blushes. “Uh, yeah. I got a callback for that off-Broadway revival of Dear Evan Hanson.” Turning to Blaine, he says, “I think it went well. I mean, I feel confident about it. They said they’d get back to me by Friday, so. Fingers crossed.”
“You’re gonna get it,” Blaine says, patting him lightly on the knee. “I know you are. I mean, there’s no way anybody even close to your level of talent auditioned.”
Kurt snorts. “Sweet talker. You know flattery will get you everywhere, right?”
“Of course I do,” Blaine grins at him.
Kurt smiles back, then glances over Blaine’s face and notices something different. He frowns, then brings his hand down from the back of the booth to pull on one of Blaine’s curls. “You didn’t gel your hair.”
“Don’t even start with me,” Blaine says, turning so that he’s facing the girls again. “Today was literally the morning from hell.” He starts to explain all the horror’s of his day, everyone listening with rapt attention.
It’s only when their food arrives that Kurt realizes he’d been playing with Blaine’s hair for the entire duration of the story.
ix.
“Honey, I’m home!” Blaine calls out as he enters the apartment. Kurt rolls his eyes as he finishes shaking the butter into the giant bowl of popcorn.
“Honey, you don’t live here!” He calls back.
Blaine laughs, padding into the kitchen and giving Kurt a hug from behind. “Roommates out?”
“Santana has a hot date,” Kurt says, passing the giant bowl to Blaine. “And Elliott is… god, I don’t even know anymore. That guy has so much going on I can’t even keep up.”
“Don’t we all?” Blaine says, heading towards the living room. “I thought we were busy during college, but sheesh.”
“Well, you see some of us have to work hard for what we get. We can’t get fancy pants promotions less than a year after starting at a company.”
Blaine tuts at him. “Don’t be jealous, Puddin’. It’s not a good color on you.”
Kurt chuckles and grabs a couple of sodas from the fridge.
“Besides,” Blaine says as Kurt walks into the living room, “it’s not like you can talk. Ensemble in Dear Evan Hanson off-Broadway to ensemble in Wicked on Broadway a year after graduating. Tony by Thirty, here you come.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kurt says, settling on the couch and grabbing the remote. “What are we watching, by the way?”
“Shitty rom-com that Netflix put out a couple of weeks ago,” Blaine replies as Kurt pulls up the Netflix app on the TV. “It looks like it’ll either be garbage, or a real tearjerker, so I figured we’d take the odds.”
“Wonderful,” Kurt says as Blaine sits down next to him on the couch, bringing the popcorn with him.
“Hey,” Blaine holds up a piece of popcorn. “Nothing but the best for my Puddin’ Pop.” He then taps the popcorn against Kurt’s lips and feeds it to him when Kurt opens his mouth.
They start the movie and, honestly, it’s more shitty than good, but they still laugh and make stupid comments to each other about it. Blaine feeds Kurt pieces of popcorn a little more often than necessary, until it becomes another stupid joke and Kurt stops grabbing his own popcorn full stop.
The movie is just finishing up and Blaine is forcing a giant handful of popcorn into Kurt’s mouth when Elliott arrives. He stares at them for a moment, Kurt with his cheeks distended from the snack, Blaine with his hand fully covering Kurt’s mouth, their movie completely ignored. Elliott then shakes his head and says, “I don’t even want to know,” before disappearing into his room.
They’re quiet until they hear his door shut, and then burst out laughing, causing half of the popcorn in Kurt’s mouth to spray all over Blaine’s face. This just makes them laugh harder.
x.
It feels like lately Blaine is the only one of his friends he gets to see. His roommates always seem to be out, Santana with her new girlfriend and Elliott with his ten million gigs. Rachel just got cast in the national tour of Moulin Rouge! and has barely had time to breathe, let alone see her friends, and Sam and Mercedes have been apartment hunting for their own place, having decided it was time to try living as just a couple, without the roommate.
Of course, that roommate happens to be Kurt’s best friend, who is sulking on his couch and slowly taking out an entire family sized bag of Cheetos by himself.
“It’s going to be okay, Blaine. You know that, right?”
“I’m going to be homeless, Kurt.”
“You are not,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “They’re leaving, not you. You still have the apartment.”
“Uh yeah, an apartment whose rent I am paying a third of. I can’t afford the full rent of that place!” He huffs, shoving more Cheetos in his mouth. “Maybe I could swing half, but that means I still have to find another roommate. Fuck everything.”
“Oh, come here,” Kurt laughs and wraps his arm around Blaine, bringing him in against his side. He pulls the bag from Blaine’s hands, then grabs a tissue from the coffee table in front of him and starts wiping the dust off his friends fingers. “It’s going to be fine, Blaine. Really.” Blaine huffs. “No, listen. I know it seems tough right now, but you already knew they were thinking about this. Yeah, it’ll be weird at first, but you’re going to get used to living alone, or with a new roommate that isn’t Sam and Mercedes. Besides, you literally just got promoted at work, and I happen to know that you’re making more than enough to afford that place on your own, at least for a bit.” He finishes wiping Blaine’s fingers, then smiles up at him. “You’re going to be okay, Blaine. Really.”
Blaine stares at him for a moment, face slowly cracking into a smile. “What would I do without you?”
Kurt shrugs. “No idea. You’ll never have to find out.”
Blaine chuckles, then leans into Kurt, head resting against his shoulder. His now-clean fingers trace a pattern on Kurt’s knee, and Kurt closes his eyes, enjoying the closeness.
“Hey, Kurt.”
“Yeah?” Kurt asks, keeping his eyes closed and head leaning back against the back of the couch.
“Are we in a relationship? Or a brolationship?”
Kurt lifts his head slowly, opening his eyes to look at Blaine. “What?”
“I mean, this. Us. Are we dating? Or do we just have one of those epic bromances that straight people are always talking about.”
He’s still tracing patterns over Kurt’s knee, and Kurt sucks on the inside of his cheek, thinking.
“Huh,” Kurt says. “I, uh. I guess I haven’t thought about it, really. I mean, I know people have made comments to me assuming we’re dating, but…”
“But…?”
Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes, those stupid huge, wide eyes. He can’t really remember a time in his life when they weren’t right where they are now, staring up at him in question, in glee, in frustration.
Kurt smiles, then says, “We can be dating, if you want.”
His stomach flips as he says it, and it’s weird because in eight years of friendship he’s never even thought about Blaine that way. At least not consciously. The thing is, that doesn’t really register to him, because then Blaine is smiling up at him and he realizes that maybe that’s not totally true. That maybe he has thought about Blaine that way, he’s just never realized it because Blaine’s just always been there, teasing him, laughing with him, cuddling with him and calling him Diet Pudding Cup Boy since they were sixteen years old.
“Okay,” is how Blaine replies, and then he leans up and presses his lips to Kurt’s in a soft, light kiss.
Kurt smiles into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup Blaine’s jaw, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.
It’s not weird, not in the way kissing your best friend might be. Actually, Kurt thinks it’s weirder that they haven’t always been doing this.
“You taste like Cheetos,” he says.
Blaine laughs, head falling back as he does. He then rests his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder and says, “You taste like pudding.”
Kurt snorts. “I do not.”
“No, but it would have been pretty hilarious if you did.”
He keeps laughing, and so Kurt does the only thing he can think of. He grabs Blaine’s face in his hands and kisses him again.
xi.
“You two seem touchier than usual,” Elliott comments over dinner a couple of weeks later. He and Santana are sitting across from them, with Sam and Mercedes each at an end of the table. Blaine has had his arm over Kurt’s shoulders the entire meal, and Kurt has kept a hand firmly on Blaine’s thigh since he sat down. “Did you get engaged, or something?”
Kurt snorts. “Uh, no.”
“We’re just, you know. Officially dating now.”
Santana’s eyes narrow. “Were you… not before?”
“Yeah, what are you even talking about? You guys have been dating for like, years,” comes from Sam.
“We were bromancing for years,” Blaine says, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder. “Now we’re just straight up romancing.”
Kurt wrinkles his nose and says, “Gross.”
“Whatever, Puddin’, you love it.”
“So…” Elliott glances between them. “That, right there. The Puddin’ thing. That’s just like… a random nickname you have for Kurt? It’s not a pet name?”
Blaine frowns. “Is that why everyone always thought we were dating? Because I call him Puddin’?”
“Well, and all the touching and cuddling and heart-eyes,” Mercedes says. “But initially, yeah, it was the Puddin’ thing.”
Kurt snorts at that, and Blaine laughs before saying. “Uh, I call Kurt Puddin’ because the night we became friends he got drunk and ate thirty-five diet pudding cups.”
For a moment nobody says anything, the only sound in the room Kurt and Blaine’s snickers.
It’s Elliott who breaks the silence by staring at Kurt says, “What the literal fuck, Kurt. Thirty-five pudding cups?!”
Kurt and Blaine’s snickers turn into full-on laughs, Blaine resting up against Kurt as they laugh. Mercedes and Sam start to chuckle as well, though Santana and Elliott still look slightly too horrified to join in.
After several more minutes of laughing, Kurt wipes at his eyes and says, “Yes, El. I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups when I was sixteen years old.”
“The greatest Pudding Motherfucker to ever live,” Blaine says, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through the hair at the back of Kurt’s head.
Kurt grins at him and says, “Diet Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme for ever.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Blaine replies, leaning in and kissing Kurt lightly on the lips. They giggle into the kiss.
Santana finally breaks her silence by saying, “You two are fucking weird.”
They stare at each other for a moment, and then, unable to stop themselves, burst out into even more giggles.
Prompt: Blaine Anderson does not simply get a cold. He get’s a “Man Cold” and this time, Kurt is simply not putting up with it. Klaine sick!fic
If there was a season that Kurt Hummel hated most, it was definitely winter. One would think winter would be a wonderful time filled with holidays, family time, and adventures out in the snow, but they would be wrong. Winter was a time filled with stress, too much traveling and stomach bugs. That last one had hit the Anderson-Hummel family hard this winter. It all started with Jacob, their 4 year, who came home from preschool complaining that his belly hurt. Kurt figured he was just hungry and proceeded to strap him into the back of the minivan before heading to the driver’s seat himself. They got halfway home before Kurt heard a noise and looked back in horror as he watched his son vomit all over himself.
“Oh baby, it’s okay.” Kurt cooed as he pulled over. At this point, Jacob was full on screaming, completely covered in vomit. Kurt groaned as he slid the back van door open. Instantly, the smell hit him and he tried to keep from vomiting himself. “Okay, buddy. It’s okay. You’re okay. Papa’s gonna get you all clean.” He quickly walked to the back of the trunk and grabbed a plastic bag that had luckily never made it out of the car after they went grocery shopping. He stripped Jacob’s shirt off of him and placed it in the bag and then moved to take off the little boy’s pants. Once all the vomit covered clothing was contained in the bag, Kurt grabbed Jacob’s blanket from off the floor and wrapped it around him. It wasn’t a great solution, but it would have to do for now. He strapped Jacob, who had finally stopped crying back into his carseat and prayed that they could make it home before his son threw up again.
Luckily, they made it home without another incident. Kurt went to the back and unbuckled his son and picked him up. The poor little boy was flushed and he felt like he had a fever. Normally, he was so independent. He always wanted to walk- rather run everywhere, but not today. Today he was content to lay in his father’s arms and rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt kissed the top of his son’s head and headed inside. “Alright buddy, let’s get you some nice new jammies and then we’ll lay on the couch and watch some TV. How does that sound?” Jacob just nodded his head, not really seeming interested in television. Kurt walked down the hallway and set Jacob on his bed once they got into his room. He walked to his dresser and opened it only to remember that all the clean laundry was in his and Blaine’s room. He sighed. “I’ll be right back baby.” he said before walking further down the hallway to his own bedroom.
Once there, he was surprised to see a lump still in the bed. “What are you doing home?” Kurt asked, obviously waking a previously sleeping Blaine.
“I never left.” he coughed. “I think I have the flu.” Kurt walked over and placed a hand on Blaine’s forehead.
“You don’t feel warm.” Kurt replied.
“My throat is all scratchy. I can’t breathe out of my nose and my head hurts.” Blaine replied, as if to justify his current position.
“I believe you.” he replied. “You still don’t have a fever though.” Kurt grabbed the pair of pajamas and started towards the door.
“Wait? Where are you going?” Blaine called, his voice rough and hoarse sounding. “Stay with me.”
“I can’t.” Kurt replied, a bit too quickly. “Our son is sitting in his underwear on his bed because he threw up all over himself in the back of our car and I need to get to him.” Blaine didn’t have much to say after that, so Kurt left and got Jacob situated. They lay on the couch for most of the afternoon and Jacob threw up another two times, luckily into a bucket that Kurt had managed to grab this time.
Later in the afternoon, their eight year old, Lucy came home from school. Kurt gave her a snack and ushered her to her room, hoping to keep her away from as many germs as possible. One kid with a stomach bug was bad, but two...god, he didn’t even want to think about, especially because Blaine wasn’t being much of a help.
Blaine had lay in bed all day complaining about his head and stuffed up nose. Kurt loved his husband. He really did, but Blaine was the biggest baby when it came to him getting sick. After ten years of marriage, Kurt was done indulging him. He didn’t have a fever, so it clearly wasn’t the flu. At best, Blaine had a cold.
Later that night, Kurt tucked the kids into bed. Jacob luckily fell asleep and Kurt prayed that he’d stay that way. He kissed Lucy goodnight before climbing into bed himself. Instantly, Blaine wanted to cuddle. “Blaine, not tonight. I don’t want to get sick.”
“Fine.” Blaine grumbled before flipping over, clearly upset with his husband. Kurt rolled his eyes and turned the other way and fell asleep. He awoke (for the first time) to find out that his husband had scooted his way over and practically wrapped his body around the his own. Kurt groaned and tried to push Blaine away, but wasn’t successful. He gave in and tried to go back to sleep. He was woken up for the second time that night by the call of “Papa!” from down the hallway.
“God no…” Kurt groaned as he came to and realization that it was Lucy’s voice and not Jacob’s. He pushed Blaine’s arms away from him and climbed out of bed and ran down the hall to Lucy’s room. He opened her door and instantly could smell what had just occurred. “Papa, I’m sorry.” she cried. “I threw up in my bed.”
“It’s okay honey.” Kurt cooed. He walked over and changed his daughter into fresh pajamas and then stripped the dirty sheets from her bed.
“Papa…” was all he needed to hear before quickly turning around. Lucy had her hand over her mouth and looked green. Kurt grabbed her under the arms and ran to the bathroom. They made it just in time before Lucy began throwing up. Kurt sighed and held back his daughter’s hair as she got sick.
“It’s okay honey. Let it all out.” Kurt soothed as he rubbed circles on Lucy’s back. When she was finished, Kurt helped her brush her teeth and the two of them headed into the living room where Kurt set up a makeshift bed, fully equipped with a bucket. Lucy crawled in and managed to fall back asleep and Kurt, not wanting to leave his daughter alone settled into the rocking chair and tried to sleep a little himself.
Lucy threw up four more times that night and when morning came, Kurt wasn’t feeling too hot either. His stomach was fine, but his head was pounding and his nose was congested. Freakin Blaine…
Kurt tried to pull himself together, despite feeling awful. When Jacob woke up, Kurt settled him on the opposite end of couch and gave him a bucket as well. He was pretty sure they were both out of the actual vomiting phase, but both kids were exhausted. He put a movie on the TV for them and they were content. His husband...or his third child rather, was getting on Kurt’s last nerve.
“What do you need Blaine?” Kurt asked from their bedroom doorway.
“Can I have some juice?” Blaine croaked before going into a coughing fit.
“Yes.” Kurt sighed.
“Kurt?” he called.
“What?”
“Apple juice, please.” Kurt rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen and got the juice. When he returned Blaine was ready with another request.
“Blaine, you don’t need tylenol.” Kurt replied.
“But -”
“You don’t have a fever.”
“But I’m hot.” Blaine groaned.
“That’s because you’re buried under three different blankets.” Kurt retorted.
“Can you fe-” Blaine began before Kurt cut him off.
“No, I can not feel your head. I felt your head less than an hour ago. You do not have a fever.”
“Please.” Blaine begged. Kurt groaned and placed his hand on Blaine’s forehead.
“Nope, still don’t have a fever.” he told his husband. “I know you feel like you’re going to die, but I’m pretty sure you’re not. I’ll come back later and check on you and if you are dead, I will dig that grave myself.”
“Kurt, that’s not funny.” Blaine retorted. “I’m sick. I have the flu” Kurt couldn’t even take it anymore. He left and went to check on the kids. Both kids were watching the movie. He got each of them some pedialyte in a cup just to make sure they were hydrated. Not too long after, he head Blaine yelling for him again.
“What do you need?” Kurt asked again.
“Can you make me soup?” Blaine asked.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Blaine, you are full grown man with a cold. Not the flu. Go make your own soup. It’s really not hard.”
“But Kurt…” Blaine groaned. “Can’t you please do it? I really don’t feel well.”
“Really? You don’t feel well.” Kurt said, his voice getting loud with the anger building inside of him. “Aww poor you who got to sleep all of yesterday while I cleaned up our son’s vomit all day. And at night, poor sick Blaine got to sleep all night while I stayed up and cleaned up our daughter’s vomit. And on top of that, my husband who just needed to cuddle last night got me sick with the same COLD that he has and I feel pretty awful too. But do I get to rest? No! I’m doing laundry and making sure the kids are okay and making sure you don’t die of a common cold!” At this point, Blaine was silent, his eyes wide in fear. Kurt however was not done. “So, no Blaine. I can’t get you soup! I’m going to need you to suck it up, find your balls wherever they went and go make your own soup!” After that Kurt stormed out of the room leaving Blaine by himself.
Blaine never did emerge from their room, probably because he didn’t know what to say after Kurt’s rant. The kids were okay for the rest of the day, neither one vomited again and both went to bed easily. Kurt who still could not look at his husband decided to sleep in the guest room that night. He settled in under the covers, his head still pounding and fell asleep praying that no one would need him during the night.
The next morning, Blaine got up out of bed and showered. He checked on the kids who were feeling much better and helped them get ready for school. He snuck quietly into the guest room and turned off Kurt’s alarm on his phone before taking the kids to school. Blaine realized that his husband must be exhausted and he definitely deserved this morning to sleep in.
Around eleven o’clock was when Kurt finally woke up. His nose was still congested, but his heading wasn’t pounding anymore. He heard a knock at the door and groaned. God, he had been up for two minutes. Who wanted him? He pushed the covers off of himself and walked over to the door. He opened it and to his surprise no one was there. Instead, a bowl of still hot chicken noodle soup was sitting on a tray with a glass of water and a note that said “Sorry I was such a pain. Thanks for taking care of me.”
Kurt picked up the tray and smiled. Though his husband might be the biggest baby when he was sick, he still had a good heart and that was what Kurt loved most about him. After all, their vows did say “in sickness and in health” so Kurt figured he’d just have to deal with Blaine’s neediness. He loved him too much not to.
In a world where Doms and subs depend on the symbiotic relationship their pheromones provide, it can be a matter of life and death to go too long without a claim. When one of the most powerful Doms in New York comes home for some much-needed family time, he stumbles upon a scene that throws his instincts into high alert as he witnesses a sub do something he’s never seen before. Will the bravery of one man change his life forever? Kurt Hummel knows there’s only a one-in-a-million chance of finding his Soulsong, but what are the odds it could happen in a run-down mall in Lima, Ohio?
In the small town where Kurt lives, there is a forest of trees his home is nestled right up against. In the backyard, there is an enchanting playhouse made of bricks and wood and has genuine glass windows with metal striped awnings and flower boxes. This is the tale of his adventures in the playhouse from age 3 to 33 and how everything changed when he met the boy next door.
