Home Random Page


CATEGORIES:

BiologyChemistryConstructionCultureEcologyEconomyElectronicsFinanceGeographyHistoryInformaticsLawMathematicsMechanicsMedicineOtherPedagogyPhilosophyPhysicsPolicyPsychologySociologySportTourism






INCOMING CALL: Rachel Berry. 2 page

"I know," Blaine nodded. "I love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too," Kurt replied. "Nothing could ever make me stop."

"Nothing?" Blaine asked, quietly.

"Absolutely nothing."

"I'm sorry I cried on you."

"Well, stop," Kurt demanded. "Because you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay," Blaine said and closed his eyes again.

They lay there just breathing for a long time and Blaine thought Kurt might be asleep already, so he whispered, "Kurt Hummel-Anderson." Then, "Kurt Anderson-Hummel."

He was surprised when Kurt smiled against his neck and whispered, very, very quietly, "You're right. Hummel-Anderson sounds way better."

"I know," Blaine grinned. "Someday."

"Blaine."

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you and all, but if you don't stop talking and go to sleep, I'm kicking you out of the bed."

"As if you would ever kick me out of your bed," Blaine giggled.

"Don't try me," Kurt said, but he was smiling.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Love you."

"Love you more."

And they closed their eyes and said nothing else and Blaine could have sworn he heard Kurt whispering "Blaine Hummel-Anderson," but before he could make sure, sleep gripped him as tightly as he was gripping Kurt and neither of them let go.

 

 

__________

 

When I think of love,
I think of you,
Yeah, it's my favourite thing to do,
You're my missing puzzle piece,
Yeah, you are,
Perfect for me.

Chapter 7:

"Hey."

Kurt groaned and rolled away from the voice, but unfortunately, away from the voice meant towards the bright sun. He groaned again.

"Kuuuuurt," Blaine said, behind him. "Wake up, baby, it's almost 8AM."

Kurt shot up at that. "It's what?" he exclaimed. "Blaine!" He flung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the alarm clock. 7:57. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Kurt tried to stand up, but his legs gave and he fell back down into a seated position. He cursed Blaine under his breath for the position they had been in in the shower ad then Blaine was climbing across the bed to sit next to him. He placed his hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"We've got a crisis," Blaine told him. "And I need you, so I was wondering if you would maybe stay home today?"

"Crisis?" Kurt asked, turning to look at him, feeling alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Get dressed and follow me out, okay?" Blaine climbed off the bed and went towards the door.

"But—"

"Follow me out," he said, before slipping outside and shutting the door behind him.

Kurt sighed and stood up, legs wobbling slightly, then he went to the closet and grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom.

Seven and a half minutes later, Kurt gave his hair one last spray, then went out of the bedroom. Blaine and Santana were on the sofa. Santana was crying. Kurt raised an eyebrow. He had never seen her cry before. He went and sat down next to her.



"Hey," he said, softly. "What's wrong?"

Santana continued to cry, her words coming out in loud, incoherent sobs, as Blaine rubbed circles over her back. Kurt looked to Blaine for an explanation.

"She had sex last night." Santana elbowed him and he sat back a bit. "What?" he said, playing innocent. Kurt rolled his eyes. "She did," Blaine told him. "But she feels bad, because of Brittany."

"Brittany?" Kurt asked, slowly. "Brittany from school?"

"She might be a bit in love with her," Blaine informed Kurt, which got him another elbow in the ribs. "Ow! Okay, jeez! Enough!"

"Santana," Kurt said, giving Blaine a look that said 'don't speak'. "What happened?"

After ten minutes of sniffling and crying and blowing her nose, Santana told him that she had slept with a girl last night, a girl who looked a lot like Brittany, who she had had a thing with, who she was madly in love with, but had been too afraid back then to properly act on it. She felt that being with this other girl made her a cheater, even though Brittany was apparently with Artie Abrams.

"Santana, it's okay," Kurt said, softly. "It's not cheating. You're going to be okay."

"Yeah, Santana," Blaine said. "In time this'll all get better."

"I just.. I just love her so, so much and—and she wasn't j-just.. She's my b-best friend." Santana curled onto her side and cried into the cushions and there was a knock on the door.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a look. "Rachel," they said, in unison.

"Get rid of her," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded, then went and opened the door slightly. Rachel was standing there, wearing a bright pink cashmere sweater with a lion's head on it. Kurt shuddered. "Rachel," he said, breathlessly. "I'm staying home today. Blaine—He got a call from his dad last night and he-he needs me."

Rachel didn't look amused. She tried to look around him. "He did? Is he okay? Can I see him? Blaine!"

"Rachel!" Kurt hissed. "He's asleep! He didn't get off to sleep until all hours this morning. I'm gonna let him sleep in and make sure he's okay. You get going."

"Okay.." Rachel said, sounding disappointed. "Tell him Finn and I love him and he's going to be okay, because he is a fighter—"

"Rachel."

"Going!"

Kurt shut the door and rolled his eyes and looked back at Santana. She was sitting up, wiping her eyes and Blaine came out of the kitchen and handed her a glass of water. She took it from him and said, "Did you really hear from your dad last night?"

Blaine looked uncomfortable as he sat down in the arm chair. "I—ah, yeah."

Kurt sat down, too, next to Santana again. "I don't think there has ever been as many tears in this apartment as there has been the past few days." Blaine smiled and Santana sniffed a bit, but her lips twitched at the corners.

"Hummel, you should go if you want," Santana said. "You, too, Blainers. I'll be fine. We've got cake in the fridge, right?"

Kurt sat back. "Nah, I'm good where I am. I'm not leaving either of you alone today, even though Colton's going to think I'm staying home because of him."

"Oh, probably," Blaine said, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"What?" Santana asked, looking back and forth between them. "What did I miss?"

"Blaine punched Colton."

"What?" Santana asked, sitting up. "Anderson, will you high five me, please? That little sicko had it coming. What happened?" She looked excited and Kurt didn't know whether he should be happy, because she had perked up a bit, or unhappy, because Blaine punching someone was the reason for her happiness.

"Okay, so.."

"He said that?" Kurt asked, once Blaine had finished telling them what had happened with Colton. "He said rape?"

"Huh," Santana said. "Coulda fooled me, because I'm pretty sure rape doesn't sound anything like this: BLAINE, PLEASE! FUCK ME, BLAINE! I WANT YOU SOOOO BAD! I WANT YOUR HUGE DICK IN MY TIGHT A—"

"Santana!" Kurt said, voice going a bit too high, face flushing.

"That wasn't a bad impression," Blaine said and Kurt shot him a look of disapproval.

"You watch too much porn, Santana, I do not sound like that."

She laughed. "Honestly, though, Hummel, that Colton kid is going to fry Anderson, here and then eat him while he's still sizzling," Santana said, looking at Kurt. "Get rid of him, before he does something freaking crazy."

"I don't want to be eaten by someone who wears khaki," Blaine said, feigning fear.

Kurt smiled, but didn't laugh. Blaine met his eyes and Kurt gave him a small nod. "I'll stop the tutoring. I'll talk to him tomorrow. I'll set him straight about everything."

Blaine smiled and Santana said, "Bring him over, let me dish a few insults at him. Hey! Maybe we could introduce him to douchebag Smythe, downstairs and they could form some sort of 'Break Hummel and Anderson up' Alliance. Assholes."

Kurt groaned and sat back. "Can we not talk about Sebastian? I don't even believe in violence and all I ever want to do is hit him."

"Well, next time, don't hold back," Santana advised, checking her nails. "Seriously, someone needs to punch that guy. I hope it's me."

Blaine came out of the bathroom and went and sat between Kurt and Santana. They each gave him a look, trying to figure out why he was sitting there, squashed between the two of them.

"Jeez, Anderson, if you wanted to engage in some sort of explicit sex act, you could have just asked," Santana said, inching away. "I would have given you some space."

Blaine smiled. "It's not that," he informed her. He looked back and forth between Kurt and Santana. "So, I've been thinking," he declared. "And I'm going to get a job."

Kurt blinked at him and Santana raised one eyebrow way up. "Excuse me, Mr Rich Boy," she said, loudly. "Why do you need a job?"

"Yeah, why do you need a job?" Kurt enquired.

Blaine sighed, stomach aching slightly. "I just.. I don't know how long the money is going to be there. If he.. If he cuts us off," Blaine said, taking a deep breath. "I just still want to be able to keep us going, you know? I mean, I know your dad sends you those cheques, but I'm not going to live off of you when he decides my decision not to change my damned last name means I'm totally disowned. I think.. I think it's the right thing to do."

Kurt tilted his head, gave him a sad smile that reached all the way up to those cyan eyes and took Blaine's hand in his own.

"He told you to change your name?" Santana asked, shocked. "What a sick bastard. Look, I'll totally pay rent and y'know what, bowtie? It's time I got me a job, too."

"Oh, Santana, you don't have to pay rent—"

"No," Santana said, standing up. "Just because I'm from Lima Heights doesn't mean I don't pay my own way in this world. And now I'll leave you ladies to talk about your feelings and shit and I'm going to have a shower to wash away my misery."

Blaine and Kurt watched her walk to her bedroom, the she went inside and shut the door behind her. Blaine turned and looked at Kurt, whose hand was still in his own. Kurt reached up and pushed some of Blaine's ungelled hair back from his ear, a small smile on his face.

"I'll get a job, too," he told Blaine, hand lingering on his cheek.

"Kurt, you don't ha—"

"What, you think I'm not capable of getting a job?" Kurt smirked, one thin eyebrow tilted upwards.

"No," Blaine shook his head. "No, I definitely didn't mean tha—"

Kurt chuckled and Blaine smiled, because Kurt looked so beautiful when he laughed like that. "I was kidding," he told Blaine. "Seriously, though, we have to do it some time, right? Why not now?"

Blaine sighed. He guessed he was right. "I'm sorry it's like this," he told Kurt, eyes dropping down, but Kurt moved his hand and tilted Blaine's chin upwards, so that their eyes met again.

"None of this is your fault," he stressed. "It's not even a big deal and you know if you couldn't pay your half of the rent, I wouldn't mind."

"That's exactly what I don't want," Blaine told him, quietly. "You know what's mine is yours—ours—don't you? Do.. Do you think I should talk to him again? Find out where we—where I stand?"

"You were right when you said 'we', but maybe—" Kurt stopped talking because his phone started to ring. He muttered a sorry, then reached into his pocket and took it out and looked at the screen. "My dad," he told Blaine, twisting their fingers around each other. He answered it with the other hand. "Hi, dad."

"Hi, Burt!" Blaine said, loudly, smiling brightly.

"Is that Blaine?" Burt asked on the other end.

"Yes, who else?" Kurt smiled, squeezing Blaine's hand gently.

"Tell him I said 'hey'."

"My dad says hi, Blaine," Kurt told him and Blaine grinned. "What's up, dad?"

Burt cleared his throat. "I tried calling yesterday, but it sent me to voicemail. Everything okay?"

Kurt wavered and eyed Blaine for permission to tell Burt. Blaine gave him a nod. "We had a—um, an incident. Blaine's dad called." Kurt told Burt what had happened with Blaine's dad and that he'd spent the night consoling him (he hadn't added the part about the epic shower/wall/floor sex). Burt called Blaine's father an array of filthy names, then sighed tiredly.

"Is Blaine okay?" he asked.

"Blaine is going to be just fine," Kurt assured him, giving Blaine's hand another gentle squeeze. "So, did you call to just chat? Or something else?"

"Oh!" Burt said. "Right, I've got some news I need to tell you boys. Can you put your phone on loudspeaker?"

It always made Kurt exceptionally happy that Burt considered Blaine family, but he was worried, too, because what if his dad was sick again? Kurt switched to loudspeaker and waited, nibbling worriedly on his bottom lip. He looked up when Blaine elbowed him gently.

"Okay?"

Kurt shrugged and Blaine inched closer, so that their sides were pressed to one another. Kurt knew Blaine knew exactly what he was thinking, what this might mean. He took Kurt's hand in both of his and held it there.

"Dad?" Kurt asked, voice coming out a little broken.

"I'm here," Burt said. "You there, too, Blaine?"

"Yep, right here," Blaine smiled, slightly.

"Okay," Burt said, exhaling. "Carole's calling Finn right now. I'm just gonna come out and say it." Kurt shut his eyes tightly and Blaine pressed a kiss to his hand. "I asked Carole to marry me."

Kurt's eyes shot open and Blaine squeezed his hand. "Are you—Really?" Kurt exclaimed.

"Really," Burt chuckled.

Kurt was speechless. Blaine smiled and said, "Congratulations!"

"Thanks, kiddo," Burt said and Kurt could hear him smiling. "Kurt, you still there, son?"

"I'm here," Kurt squeaked.

"Kurt, look, if this upsets you because of your mom—"

"Upsets me?" Kurt said, a little loudly. "It doesn't upset me! This is great news, dad! A wedding! Please let me plan this! I swear I won't disappoint you!"

Blaine was laughing next to him, clearly relieved that he was okay.

"Course," Burt replied. "You could never disappoint me, Kurt." There was a pause. Realisation. "You either, Blaine. You're good kids. So, whaddya say? Fly out here for my wedding in December?"

"Winter wedding," Kurt said, thoughtfully, eyes lighting up.

"Of course," Blaine answered for both of them.

Kurt looked up, mind stilling for a moment, when he heard a noise from the bedroom behind the sofa. "Hey, dad," Kurt said, then. "Think we could bring someone along?"

"Uh, I guess," Burt said, carefully. "Who?"

Blaine was eyeing him with those maple syrup eyes, brows furrowed in the centre. Kurt smiled. "I never told you, but we've got Santana living with us. She was in glee club with Blaine and I at McKinley. She's got some..things to tie up in Ohio, so do you think she could come?" Blaine was grinning, looking like an excited puppy. Kurt gave him a bright smile.

"Oh, sure," Burt told him. "I'll give you a call when we figure out the when and the where, okay? And guys? I'm glad you're happy about this. It.. Well, it means a whole lot to me and Carole both."

"Of course," Kurt said. "We want you to be happy, dad."

There was a pause, then Burt asked, "What about you two? You guys happy?"

"Never been happier," Blaine said, before Kurt could open his mouth. He gave him a smile and Blaine leaned on him.

"Exactly what I was gonna say," Kurt told Burt, blue eyes on Blaine.

"That's great," Burt told them. "Hell, if I'm half as happy with Carole as you guys are together, I'll be set for life."

Kurt spotted the mousey brown hair at the back of the cafeteria and made his way towards it, a frown on his face, because this was going to be a difficult conversation. When he reached the table, he shuddered at the sight of the khaki pants and the navy fleece and the red Crocs. Colton looked up and Kurt sat down.

"Hi," Kurt said, carefully. Colton grunted. "Listen, Colton, can you maybe drop the pen for a sec? We need to talk."

"Actually, I was just going—"

"Colton," Kurt said, firmly, blue eyes locked on Colton, trying to get him to pay attention, to see that he was deadly serious. "Seriously. This is important. Please." Colton laid the pen down and raised his dark eyes, but didn't look at Kurt directly. "So, um, Blaine told me what happened," Kurt said, quietly. "I'm not really, um, sure why you would lie about all that stuff—about being in the closet and all. I—Here's the deal, Colton. I'm not into you the way you're into me. I'm in love with Blaine. I am and he loves me."

"He scares you, admit it, it's okay."

Kurt gaped at him for a moment. "Colton, he doesn't scare me. He's never scared me, not ever. I don't think you—"

"I could call the cops."

Kurt choked a little. "Are you—You're serious. Wow, okay, look. Blaine is—No, he's more than just my boyfriend. I'm happiest when I'm with him, Colton. I think you picked me up wrong when I told you about the bullying thing. Yeah, he bullied me, but he never—Blaine has never hurt me. Not really and definitely not since we got together."

Colton's lips were pursed, arms folded. He was watching Kurt carefully. "I need to see proof, or I'm calling the cops."

"Oh, call them, then!" Kurt said, exasperated. "We've got nothing to hide, so whatever. Call them. Waste their time, it makes no difference to me."

"I see the marks, Kurt."

Kurt eyed him, trying to figure out what he meant, then it hit him: Colton meant the bruises on his neck and the marks that were sometimes on his arms the day after he and Blaine had..

"Colton," Kurt said, blushing. "Those marks aren't.. They're totally consensual. They just..sort of happen. I mean, we.. I don't know how to say this without making things awkward." Kurt paused and searched for the correct words.

"You mean sex," Colton said and Kurt let his mouth hang a little, because Colton didn't usually come out with that kind of thing.

"Right," Kurt nodded. "We just.. It's not.. He doesn't hurt me. Not ever."

Colton grabbed his bag and slipped his books inside. He looked up at Kurt, who was just staring at him, wondering what on earth he was doing. "I want to see for myself," Colton told him. "I'll be at your apartment at around five."

Kurt shook his head, eyes wide and round as saucers. "You want to watch us.."

"No," Colton said, quickly. "God, no. Not that." Kurt nodded, slowly, relieved, because that would have been odd. "I just want to see what he's like with you. Before I involve the police and before you say you've got nothing to hide, the reputation brought on by such allegations being made can't be a good one, now can it?"

Kurt felt dizzy. "Are you threatening—"

"Just telling it like it is," Colton smiled. "Bye, Kurt."

Kurt stared after him, trying to process what had just happened. Was he serious? He had seemed deadly serious. Maybe he did have a mental disorder. Maybe there was something wrong with him, something that made him do crazy things. Maybe he was on drugs. Maybe all that khaki had gone to his head. Maybe his Crocs were too tight.

Kurt couldn't figure it out. He shook his head and took out his phone, hen dialled Blaine.

"Helloooo?" Blaine answered, cheerily.

"You're not even going to believe this."

"We should totally piss him off," Blaine grinned at five o' clock that afternoon. "We could just keep making out in every corner of the place. We could grind on the couch. I could suck you off in the bathroom while he was listening."

Kurt chuckled. "All this time and I didn't know you had an exhibitionist streak," he teased. "But seriously. Can we just act like we always do? Because I need him to see we're not the way he thinks we are."

"Oh, like I don't always suck you off in the bathroom," Blaine smirked, pulling Kurt forward for a quick kiss. "No, I promise. We'll show him. It's going to be fine. We've got nothing to hide, so don't worry."

Kurt nodded. Blaine couldn't believe he had allowed it to get this far. He understood why he hadn't protested immediately, but he wanted to punch Colton, show him he couldn't mess with them and get away with it, but he didn't think violence was a good idea, what with the claims Colton was making.

"So, we just pretend like he's not there?" Blaine asked and Kurt gave him another nod. "Santana is going to die when she finds out about this," Blaine chuckled. "Seriously, he won't want to be here ever again once she's done with him." That made Kurt smile, which made Blaine's heart swell in his chest. "Don't worry," Blaine said, again. "We've got this and if he still tries to make these crazy accusations, we'll call the cops ourselves, because all joking aside, the guy's a nutjob."

"Can't disagree with you this time, babe."

There was a knock on the door and Kurt groaned and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder. Blaine smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Relax," he whispered. "We've got this."

Kurt was sitting on the sofa, Blaine next to him, his body half on top of him. He was half watching the movie on the TV and half watching Colton, watching them intently. He had changed his clothes. He was wearing royal blue Crocs, now, a red and white striped sweater and blue jeans. Kurt wanted to threaten to call the fashion police, but thought the better of it.

Kurt felt Blaine inching closer, lips suddenly dangerously close to his neck. Kurt tried to pull back, but Blaine looked up at him and said, "You said to act like we always do." Kurt guessed he was right. He nodded and settled and Blaine's lips were warm against his neck again. He pressed a hot kiss to his pulse, then locked his mouth there, the sensation familiar. Kurt moaned instinctively, then stopped himself because Colton was watching them, dark eyes narrowed.

Blaine muttered words against his neck, but Kurt couldn't make them out. Blaine's lips trailed higher and he whispered in his ear, breath hot on his skin. "We should go in the bedroom."

"Then he'll definitely think you're killing me," Kurt whispered back. "We're not exactly quiet, are we?"

"Guess not," Blaine said, kissing his neck again. Kurt sighed and gave in, letting him just kiss him as much as he wanted. It was weird, being like that with someone else watching. "How long's he gonna be here anyway?"

"No idea," Kurt told him. He hoped not for long, because if Blaine was going to continue doing what he was doing, Kurt was going to give in and go to the bedroom with him, which would not be a good idea. At all.

Blaine sighed and stopped kissing him, just went back to leaning against his shoulder. "Love you," Blaine whispered, quietly.

"Love you more," Kurt told him, smiling and for a split second, he forgot that Colton was sitting there. That was one of the things Kurt loved about Blaine, that he could make him forget, that once he was there with him, other things disappeared.

They were silent for a long time, just sitting there watching the stupid movie (Kurt had no idea what it was, they had just left it on to pass the time while Colton stared at them). After a long silence, Kurt felt Blaine's hand slipping cross his body. It slipped under his shirt and his cool fingers slid up his body and he flicked a thumb over his nipple.

And Kurt groaned.

And Colton stood up.

And Blaine stood up.

And then there was a shouting match and Kurt was aught in the middle of it, trying to get Blaine to calm down and ignore him, but it was no use.

"I don't get why I can't touch my boyfriend without offending you!" Blaine was saying. "It's fucking sad. Can't you just go out and find someone else to bother?"

Kurt didn't hear Colton's reply, because they began shouting over each other again and then the front door opened and Santana walked in and she asked what was going on and Blaine told her and then she started to shout at Colton, too and Kurt collapsed on the sofa, trying to think, trying to figure out what he should do to make them stop, but someone else appeared at the still-open door.

"Well, well, well," Sebastian grinned, looking from Blaine, to Kurt, to Santana and then to Colton. "Who do we have here?"

Kurt stood up. "Can you leave, please?"

Sebastian ignored him and Colton looked at Sebastian, eyes wide. "Colton Fisher," he told him, extending an arm. Sebastian took his hand.

"Sebastian Smythe," he told him. "I couldn't help overhearing this little brawl," he told them. "Trouble in paradise?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at just how cliché that was. Who even said that any more? Blaine went and sat down next to Kurt. "Not at all," he told Sebastian. "Trouble in Crocs."

Santana burst into laughter and Colton glowered at her. Blaine took Kurt's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Kurt squeezed back.

"Well, Colin," Sebastian said, still grinning. "Looks like you and I have similar aims here. We should talk some time."

"Yeah, when you're not too busy stalking us," Blaine quipped, angrily, but it seemed Blaine hadn't figured out just what Sebastian meant by 'similar aims'.

"You're going to plot to break us up? Really?" Kurt deadpanned.

"No one said that, princess," Sebastian smiled, sweetly.

Blaine stood up. "Okay, get out." He turned and looked at Colton. "You, too. Leave. Just.. Leave. This is getting ridiculous. Go talk, get married, I don't care, just leave us alone."

He got them out eventually, then went and sat down next to Kurt, who as just tired of everything. Blaine sat up close to him and held his hand again. "Okay?" he asked.

Kurt shrugged. "Just tired of everyone trying to drive some kind of wedge between us."

"Hummel," Santana said, crossing the floor. "The only wedge that's gonna be in between you two is the wedge on my shoe when i sit between you. Scoot over." She sat down between them and smiled at them. They smiled back. It was funny how Santana, who had spent all her time insulting him at school, could make him feel better with the things she said. "So, guess who got a job?" she grinned, happily.

"You did?" Blaine asked.

"Santana, that's great!" Kurt told her.

She shrugged. "It's just some stupid clothing store," she said. "But it'll do for now. What about you guys? What just happened here?"

"Long story," Kurt sighed again. "But hey, listen. My dad called yesterday. I think we figured out a reason for you to go back to Ohio to see Brittany."

She perked up at that, but still looked sceptical. "I'm listening."

 

__________

 

Though times have changed,
Time can't change the way hearts beat,
The beginning of love stays the same,
Love is something time just cannot cheat.


Date: 2015-12-24; view: 708


<== previous page | next page ==>
INCOMING CALL: Rachel Berry. 1 page | INCOMING CALL: Rachel Berry. 3 page
doclecture.net - lectures - 2014-2024 year. Copyright infringement or personal data (0.018 sec.)