Im looking for glee Kurt-centric stories where Kurt stands up for himself against anyone and everyone. Please message me the name and or link to any stories. I would really love any where he stands up to Finn, Rachel, Mr.shuester and Blaine.
a year in the life of kurt; fall until summer. ~3.8k / AO3
(warnings: angst angst lots of angst and canonical character death)
fall.
If anyone ever asked Kurt Hummel his opinion of New York City, he’d say it’s all tall, looming buildings, crowded sidewalks, beeping horns and weird smells. He’d also tell you it’s where he belongs - home.
As much as Kurt acts like one, he’s not quite a ‘city boy’. Not yet. Sometimes he gets this clench in his stomach as he walks through the bustling streets of New York as he wishes he was back in the calm, quiet, green fields of Ohio. He wishes he could just walk down the quiet streets to that small park he always used to go to when he was a kid. The one with the monkey bars and the swing set where he and Blaine used to go to when the Hummel-Hudson house got too loud or quiet.
Because as horrible and homophobic that the town is, it’s still his hometown. It’s still where his dad used to teach him how to ride a bike down the empty street and where he would watch the stars with eyes wide open as his mom pointed out the constellations.
It’s the place that where he would get his dad to take him on a picnic with their old china tea-seat and later, where Blaine would hold his hand as they land out on the field, hidden amongst the tree’s and bushes. Where Blaine would be the one to point out all the different constellations and they would kiss until their lips felt bruised.
But he’s not there. He’s stuck in this city, full of dense fumes and crowds of people, the thought making his stomach twist.
He realises, just as he’s about to get the subway home, that he hasn’t spoken to his dad since last Thursday; the missed calls adding up and up. He can’t look at his phone without guilt swirling in his stomach - the number in that little red bubble increasing every day.
The subway train comes then goes, Kurt still standing on the now empty platform. Feeling so alone in the big city. He takes a deep breath to try and slow himself down - stop him from feeling so rushed. He pretends he back in the quiet, rural Lima street with everything moving so slowly around him.
When he opens his eyes, nothing has slowed down and the platform begins to fill up again. But he feels a sense of calmness as he gets onto a different train, heading in the wrong direction but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to go back home - to the loft - just yet.
He soon finds himself walking further and further into the park, the sounds of the city behind him begin to quiet; begin to muffle. The chill from the September wind ruffling the leaves of the tree’s, leaving Kurt with goosebumps. But Kurt doesn’t care; he smiles, grabs his phone from his satchel.
The call is answered by the second ring.
“Hey, bud…”
Ohio isn’t where he belongs. But the people there, his family, they’re home.
:
Today was especially rough. He doesn’t know why, but everywhere he looks, everywhere he goes, it reminds him of little things. Starting with the letter in his mailbox that’s written in that clear, cursive writing, and ending with the red and yellow flowers.
The whole day, Kurt has felt the tears burning beneath his eyes, willing to be released but Kurt’s strong. That’s what he tells himself. He can’t do this at work - where he’s only been for a month. Kurt can’t make them think he’s incapable. He makes it through, the flowers sitting in the darkest corner of his office, the card buried under piles of paper and rubbish.
When he’s finished, Kurt finds himself walking down 7th Avenue, dodging the tourists and tired workers, heading straight towards the park in the distance. The orange leaves of the tree’s glowing as the sun begins to set.
He finds himself an isolated bench, next to a tree by the lake. The cool autumn breeze flowing through the air and Kurt pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he stares out over the glistening water, thinking, thinking, thinking. The thoughts running through his head reminding him of things he shouldn’t be remembering; picnics and flowers and sweet raspberry kisses, declarations and promises.
It’s not until the breeze blows again, against Kurt’s face that he feel the sharp sting of tears rolling down his cheeks. He looks up to the sky, his heart sinking as the mix of the New York City lights and wisps of clouds stop the stars from shining. Stops him from counting them and trying to find the constellations. So instead, he closes his eyes briefly before looking back down at lake.
He sits there, in the silence with the leaves falling from the trees and the water moving quietly in front of him until the sun sets and the wind gets too cold and Rachel begins to worry where he is.
winter.
The minute the loft door closes with a soft thud, all the feelings Kurt’s been holding in for the last few days come rushing forward. He can’t be here, not in this room, feeling as if the walls closing in on him. He needs air. So he throws a coat over his shoulder and leaves. Hoping that he has given his dad and Blaine enough time so that he doesn’t accidentally catch up with him.
He catches the subway, stumbling a little as the train jolts forward, hands clenched on the pole, zoning out as station after station goes past. Minute after minute ticks along and Kurt tries to keep his mind blank, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest as thought after thought run through his head.
The moment the door clang open, Kurt is onto the platform in a rush, up the stairs, swiping his card going through the barrier before finally, finally, climbing the steps to the sidewalk.
The fresh air hits him and he can finally take a breath, heading towards the place where he normally goes.
He wanders through the snowy park, his feet wet and body cold. He takes in the untouched snow around him as he walks, snow and ice crunching beneath his feet.
Seeing Blaine, well, that was hard enough. The first time he’d seen him since Grease, since he turned away from his wide, pleading eyes asking for forgiveness. The first time he’d spoken to him since thanksgiving, since they’d given each other hope again.
Kurt smiles a small smile, watching as the lights around him flicker on, the path illuminating as it begins to get darker.
The smile drops suddenly as the light next to him flickers off. Darkness surrounds him as he remembers the conversation with his dad. He remembers that there is disease running through the blood in his dad’s veins. He thinks of his mom and there’s a pang in his chest because his dad can’t leave him, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with that. Kurt doesn’t know how he’d survive. He feels hollow; no more tears left for him to cry.
He can’t bear the thought of his dad not making it through. He doesn’t want to think of what that would do to him. He stands in the dark and the unbearable thoughts keep chasing each other around his mind causing Kurt’s hands to tremble.
Last night, he’d cried all through the night, and Blaine - sweet, wonderful Blaine, who knows Kurt and knows exactly what he needs, came to him and gave him comfort. He’d just squeezed him tight, in a warm embrace and Kurt didn’t want to let go. He wanted to soak in the comfort even as he felt Blaine’s tears on his pajama shirt as he gripped him back tight but Kurt couldn’t say anything, couldn’t provide any comfort - too busy muffling his sobs again the strong shoulder.
Blaine, who’s always there for him, no matter what, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. Blaine, who promised all those promises, even after breaking his heart and leaving him in shreds has managed to sneak his way back through the cracks.
Kurt, standing in the darkness of the shadows around him, takes a step back into the light.
He can get through this.
:
There are bad days. Days where nothing goes right; the trains are late or he sleeps through his alarm or he just can’t get his mind to cooperate. But there are also days where everything is good. Days where he gets up and he smiles. He dresses himself in brighter colours and tasteful accessories. He get’s all his work done and get’s to finish early. Or days where he’s no in the office. Days like today, where he’s at NYADA - the school of his dreams. The school that’s going to help him make it - help his dream come true.
But then there is today. Today where he’s been in such an odd mood that he just can’t shake. It’s not until he’s finally walking up the stairs of the subway station, a sparkling brooch pinned to the lapel of his blazer, the bars of signal increasing on his phone that he get’s the text.
Burt (20:23) : I love you bud.
Kurt frowns, wondering why his dad is sending a text like that to him when they haven’t spoken all day. Kurt starts typing, just a simple, I love you, too, Dad, just as he opens the loft to the door. Hanging his coat up he looks at the calendar as he realises.
Kurt ignores Rachel and Santana as he makes his way into his room, opening the window and climbing out. Trying to give himself the most space he can in his cramped home.
He takes a deep breath, waiting for the tears to come.
Kurt jumps, as his phone buzzes in his hand, another text coming from Blaine. On instinct, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear; not knowing what he’s going to say.
It only rings once before there’s a muffled, “Kurt,” on the other side.
Kurt shivers, the cool breeze giving him goosebumps, “Hey.”
“Are yo-”
“Can we just - can you just do something for me?” Kurt breathes out.
“Of course, Kurt,” Blaine replies, “Anything.”
“Could you go outside an-and look at the stars?” Kurt says, the first tear falling.
“Sure,” Blaine says, and he’s so grateful Blaine still understands, he still knows him. Knows when to ask questions and when to just be a comfort.
“Can, can you point out all the constellations?”
“Okay, so, there’s one that shaped…” Kurt listens to Blaine soothing voice as he looks up at the cloudy sky, pretending he can see what Blaine is describing to him. Blaine explains at least 4 constellations before Kurt speaks.
“I can’t believe it’s been 11 years,” Kurt breathes down the phone line in barely a whisper.
“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine replies softly, comfortingly.
“I used to do this with her, you know? My mom,” Kurt says, “She’d take me outside, after my bedtime, and just point out all the constellations and tell me loads of stories. It’s one of the best memories I have of her. And- and then when we went to the park that time, and stayed there until it got dark. You made me lay down on the dirty grass in my Alexander McQueen jacket and I was so ready to be mad at you, but then you started pointing out the stars - you didn’t even know - but it, it meant so much to me. And I’m scared because all my other memories of her are fading away and I can’t get them back. But then when you did that it just reminded me and god, I think I fell in love with you just a little bit more.”
He hears a sniffle on the other end of the line, “Kurt-,” he begins.
“I- I forgive you, Blaine. I’m not saying we should get back together or anything but I miss you so much. And, I want to be able to text you when I see things that remind me of you and I just want to be friends again. I don’t want to lose you, Blaine, and I know that my mom would want me to be happy. I miss her enough as it it and if I lose you anymore than I already have, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Kurt, god, that’s all I’ve wanted,” Blaine says, his voice thick with what Kurt knows are tears, “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Thank you for tonight, it- it really helped.”
“Anytime, Kurt, you know that.”
“I should probably go before Santana or Rachel try and find me, I completely ignored them earlier. I should probably apologise.”
“Okay,” Blaine says, “And, Kurt, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Kurt hangs up and breathes properly what feels like the first time in months. He feels lighter somehow because as much as he misses his mom, he knows that she’s up there, in the stars. But down on Earth, he still has family here too.
spring.
When Adam suggests a walk after their rehearsal, Kurt doesn’t think much of it. They walk down the streets of the city, hands clasped between them as cars race past them down the road. Kurt doesn’t take any notice of where they’re going, lets Adam lead the way as he chats about rehearsal, classes and everything inbetween.
But Kurt doesn’t really take in what exactly Adam is saying. He just- he likes Adam. He likes his accent and his impressions. He likes that he’s another friend to Kurt in this big city. But he want’s to like Adam more. He want’s to like him in the way he likes liked Blaine. When he lays in bed at night, the guilt twirls in his mind as he wonders why he can’t just like Adam the way that he desperately wants to. He want’s to be enamoured by every word he says, everything he does. He wants to spend a whole evening finding the perfect outfit instead of recycling one he wore a few months ago at Vogue.
The truth is, though, Kurt realises as they’re walking hand in hand down the street, that he doesn’t feel the way he wants to feel. He doesn’t hang on every word that leaves Adam’s mouth and the thought of seeing him doesn’t help his classes go faster. To him, it’s a chore. It’s an act.
Adam’s not Blaine.
It’s not until they’re standing in the cool breeze, leaves blowing around them, that Kurt realises that they’ve left the high rising building behind them as they’re standing in the park. His heart catches in his throat as the dark leaves, laying on the floor remind him of Ohio. He thinks of all the times he comes here just to collect himself, to remind himself of himself. To image what it would be like to walk around the park hand in hand with Blaine. Not Adam. Kurt shivers, not just from the cold.
He looks up at Adam, who’s looking at him with a question on his lips, “Kurt?”
Kurt takes in a deep shuddering breath, “S-sorry, it’s just cold.”
Adam just smiles at him, “Well, it is March…”
Kurt lets out a fake laugh, knowing Adam won’t know the difference anyway, “Let’s head back, get some coffee and warm up?”
Adam nods his head, mumbling his agreement as they turn back, still holding hands as they make their way out of the park.
Kurt can’t help but think of how different Adam’s hand is to Blaine. Too big and not as comforting. And Kurt resents Blaine for a moment, because somehow he wormed his way right into Kurt’s heart and Kurt doesn’t think he’ll ever find anyone that matches quite up to Blaine. And right now, when he so desperately wants to be over him and wants to find someone else to fall in love with, Kurt can’t help but feel a tiny surge of anger at the boy.
As they walk back down the cold streets, Kurt doesn’t say a word; trying to immerse himself back into reality and the stories Adam is telling.
:
As much as he’d missed Ohio and as much as he wanted to go back, see his dad, Carole, Finn and Blaine, he didn’t want to be going back for this reason. He didn’t want to be here to find out that his dad might still have cancer. He didn’t want to have to deal with sitting in the glee club whilst Tina moans at him. He’s sick of wearing blue socks everyday and sick of the way not wearing them makes him feel.
He doesn’t feel like himself.
But he doesn’t talk about it with anyone. Not with his dad, or Blaine, or Carole. He doesn’t think he can.
The night before the dreaded appointment, Kurt can’t sleep. Blaine had offered to stay over, keep him company, but Kurt knows that it would just make is so much worse. So he declined the offer and instead tortured himself with all these thoughts running around his mind.
When it gets to 3:32am and Kurt has finally come to the decision that he is not going to get any sleep tonight so he turns on his bedside lamp and picks up Vogue. He flicks through the pages, barely registering the photos in front of him as he turns each page.
His door creaks about at precisely 3:58am and Finn’s head pokes in the gap.
“Hey, brother,” Finn says, “Warm milk?”
Kurt looks up at Finn, slowly closing the magazine in his hands and gets out of bed, “Do you remember how to make it?”
“Dude,” Finn says, walking down the stairs, trying (and failing) to tread quietly, “Who do you think made it when we skype when you’re in New York?”
“Oh, yeah,” Kurt lets out a forced laugh.
“Hey, you go sit on the porch swing outside, I’ll be there in a few.”
Kurt nods as he makes his way outside, grabbing the blanket thrown over the back of the couch before unlocking the door before stepping out into the chilly breeze. He settles down on the seat, throwing the blanket over himself as he stares out into the dark night.
The trees rustling in the wind is one of the only noises, except for the creak of the seat at it moves. A few minutes later, Finn comes back, two mugs in hand and passes one to Kurt. The swing moves as Finn clumsily sits, but it calms and the two boys settle down in silence - the blanket covering the both of them, an attempt to keep them warm.
The sit in silence as they sips there mugs, drawing in the warmth and comfort from their drinks and each other.
“It’s going to be okay, you know?” Finn says, shrugging his shoulders, “Burt’s a strong guy and so are you. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it as a family.”
Kurt shudders, “I’m so scared.”
“Me too, Kurt, me too.”
:
When Kurt tells Blaine, there’s hugs and squeals and tears, because it’s gone. Finally, after months and months of endless worry, the cancer is gone.
So they arrange a picnic - a farewell picnic - as Kurt is going back to New York soon. They go to the corner shop by Blaine’s house and buy so much food.
And when they get back to the house, Blaine sorts out the hamper whilst Kurt cuts the sandwiches and salad and cake. The food isn’t particularly fancy, but once Blaine has sorted the hamper out, it makes it look like a fairytale date.
Kurt forgets, sometimes, that they aren’t actually dating. They’re just friends. Friends who are so hopelessly and desperately in love with each other that it’s just easy. By the time they’re finished, all the food put into the fridge in tight containers ready for tomorrow, it’s getting dark and Kurt should be getting home.
There’s a moment, when they’re both standing by the door, when they would usually kiss goodbye. And today, everything between them has just been forgotten, so they both lean in to kiss, just a small peck on the lips. Kurt’s lips brushing against Blaine’s in a sweet moment of affection.
Kurt turns away after with a spring in his step as he waves back a Blaine, a blinding smile on his face.
It’s not until he’s in the car and halfway home that he remembers and giggles to himself because who cares. He’s forgiven Blaine and he loves Blaine so much, there’s for him to lose.
:
Finn (09:45) : so how does it feel to be engaged?
Finn (09:47) : oh and i’m sorry i wasn’t there man. i totally would’ve gone if i didn’t have an exam that morning
Finn (09:50) : your not mad right?
Finn (09:57) : you know i would’ve been there if i could’ve! but i totally couldn’t miss this exam or i could’ve failed.
Finn (09:59) : ok i’m gonna shut up now before i make things worse
Kurt (11:02) : Sorry, Finn, I was in class and my professor would probably take my phone away if I got it out in class.
Kurt (11:03) : Anyway, 1. It is amazing and also kind of weird because I don’t actually feel that different.
Kurt (11:05) : 2. I’m not mad that you missed it. I understand, it’s fine.
Kurt (11:06) : You can make it up to me though.
Finn (11:08) : i’m so happy for you bro. i always knew you two were gonna get married. and ok. that’s good i thought that you might be angry with me or something. you know im not good at telling how people are feeling.
Finn (11:09) : how?
Kurt (11:11) : Be my best man.
Finn (11:11) : what? dude are you serious? of course i will be man! ok hold on im gonna ring you
:
Kurt sits in his bedroom in New York, all these wedding magazines surrounding him, clips and cutouts of everything, from cakes to dates. But Kurt can’t concentrate. All he can think about is that last conversation.
So much can happen in a couple of months. Kurt got engaged, he has a fiancé, and they’re going to get married, but his best man - he’s gone.
summer.
And this year, this year has been so tough. His dad had cancer, he lost the man he loves and, god, Finn’s not coming back. But maybe if he focuses on all the small things he’s achieved they can outweigh the bad and as much as his heart aches sometimes, he knows that he has to keep his head high.
But he has made it through this year, despite everything, and he has his fiancé laying by his side on the floor of their room in the loft, his dad doesn’t have cancer, his band is getting more and more successful by the day and he’s at the school of his dreams.
Things are finally, finally looking up even if it is only one step at a time.
A faint nod, followed by a breathless exhale as this kind brown-eyed, black-haired male smiles at him.
There’s no malice, no venom behind the action, nothing but pure and sweet genuine concern that melts Kurt’s icy exterior, dripping and warming his heart with happiness to spread throughout his entire body as he stares fondly at the other.
The boy (who so easily melted the walls that he raised as a defense mechanism in this cruel life he lived, the one that seemed to resemble more the wilderness rather than a high school. But then, teenagers are wild, aren’t they? Wild and primitive, without any sense other than claiming, protecting, or hunting) begins to walk away with the offender who shoved him into the lockers - his best friend, of all things.
But that hint of kindness etches itself into Kurt’s heart in the form of a four-letter name.
ii. Sam
“Did I do something to offend you?”
“No! It’s not you, it’s me…You’ve been honorable, really.” Kurt tries for a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, though his words are sincere.
For all the guys he had ever sang with (or nearly, in this case), Sam had been the kindest. The only one who hadn’t expressed any discomfort of any kind to singing with another male. And a gay one, to add.
Even Finn had been uncomfortable with being paired up to sing a ballad with Kurt last year.
Finn, who let him in on the fact that despite Sam’s acceptance of their duet, others in the school who outnumbered them by far - who held Sam’s well-being and social-status in their unforgiving, ignorant hands - weren’t quite on the same mindset.
Sam blinked, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the water from spraying into his eyes before he looked over at Kurt, confusion and a little bit of hurt showing on his face.
And Kurt, as heavy as his heart weighed him down and as lonely as he felt in the moment he explained he would be singing the duet with and by himself, felt his affection for Sam.
No one - no boy, had ever been disappointed to not be able to sing with him before.
iii. Blaine
“C’mon, I know a shortcut.”
Without any warning, a warm hand that felt rough with calluses but soft with careful gentility grasped his own, weaving him through the wave of boys pushing past and guiding him to an isolated hallway.
It took only a minute - two at most - to get to their destination, a common room full of boys talking loudly amongst themselves, but to Kurt it felt like more than a minute and yet less than a second.
As their hands separated, Kurt taking in his surroundings and just how much he stuck out in the crowd, Blaine reached over with a teasing grin and fixed the lapel of his jacket, whispering, “Next time don’t forget your jacket, new kid.”
Kurt’s eyes widened and his mouth moved, realizing Blaine had him figured him out already, but with a quick ‘excuse me’, Blaine was already moving up front and center to sing lead to ‘Teenage Dream’.
He also sang his way straight to Kurt’s heart, and with his smile as bright as day, blossomed a smile on Kurt’s face like a flower that hadn’t seen or felt warmth from the sun in months.
iv. Sam
“Sam? What are you doing here?” Kurt raised a brow curiously at Sam’s choice of dress. As soon as he was done questioning Sam’s sense of fashion (more than he did already), he noticed the logo on the cheap, washed out grey cap and the red-and-white polyester striped shirt he wore. “…Delivering pizza?”
Sam’s eyes darted to the left and licked his lips, responding a little too quickly. “I, uh, it’s no big deal, really. I just sorta wanted to take up a job. Looks good on the resume and all, y‘know?”
Side-eyeing the blonde, Kurt’s lips pressed together in a firm line. Sam felt his stomach drop a little, because if he couldn’t get his dye-job past Kurt, he doubted he’d get this past him either.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here at Dalton, in Westerville, delivering a pizza-pie at nearly 8 p.m. on a Monday night.”
There were a few moments of tense silence, before Sam broke it, looking Kurt in the eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He murmured, and Kurt was taken aback at not just the odd request, but the way Sam sounded when asking it of him.
Swallowing, Kurt almost nodded before he took a breath, curiosity and concern winning over. “Only if you tell me why first.” At Sam’s pleading look, Kurt shook his head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just … I want to know if you’re ok.”
v. Dave
“I’m so -- I’m so friggin’ sorry for what I did to you, Kurt…”
Dave’s eyes were rimmed with red, his head downcast as he pulled the crimson beret from off his head, clutching tightly at it, almost as if it were a life preserver keeping him afloat the dark, deep ocean that threatened to swallow him whole, swimming angrily behind the walls of his eyes and pooling at the edges.
Kurt’s own eyes were red, shining as he breathed in deep and slow through his nose. His head spun as he took in the apology and the sincerity in Dave’s voice and the pain in his eyes.
He didn’t move to reach out to him, didn’t take a step back in fear or caution or a step forward to touch him.
Kurt simply stood there, lowering his defenses much like the scared and guilty and hurting boy in front of him, and lay himself bare for not the world to see, but for Dave.
“I know. I know.” Kurt whispered, his words his comfort, and with that leaving the past behind them to not be forgotten, but forgiven.
vi. Blaine
“I love you.”
Time stood still, and only the sensation of the steaming coffee in Kurt’s mouth brought him back down to reality as he swallowed down the liquid.
Surprised and shocked beyond belief, Kurt’s mouth moved silently, words escaping him for one of the few moments in his life as he tried to regain his voice.
Did he hear that right? Did Blaine just really tell him he loved him? Kurt?
“I love you too.” He whispered, lips curving gently into a soft smile to match the look in Blaine’s eyes.
He had begun to fall for the boy - no, the man - sitting in front of him (the man who loved him as he loved back) in November, and had known he was in love by December.
And for the first time in his life, he had a boyfriend. He had someone to love him back, to look at him happily, to kiss him romantically, to hold him gently, to whisper to him softly, “I love you” and have the words whispered right back.
“You know, when you think about it … Kurt Hummel’s had a pretty good year.”
