fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

Welcome Home, KurtxBlaine, G

2012-08-20T17:06:56Z

Title: Welcome Home
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 811
Summary: Kurt and Blaine take their daughter to Disney World.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: The first in what I hope will be a short series of Klaine with their daughter in Disney World for the first time.

It was a surprisingly peaceful flight. Blaine claimed the aisle seat and Josephine had the window, so Kurt was stuck in the middle, fighting Blaine for the arm rest and struggling to keep their daughter buckled into her seat.

There was no crying, the bathrooms didn’t smell, and when the wheels of the plane finally touched down, Kurt was feeding off of the excitement of the bouncing four-year-old beside him.

“Does Cinderella really live in the castle?”

“Definitely,” Blaine said as he reached into the overhead compartment for their bags.

“And,” Josephine continued, practically crawling from her own seat into Kurt’s lap. He huffed out a laugh and helped her get all the way over, “is Mickey going to be there?”

Blaine nodded to Kurt, so he hefted her up as he stood, setting her onto the ground and patting her bottom to get her walking.

“Absolutely,” Kurt answered. “Now, come on, hup two, Fi. We’ve got a bus to catch.”

They’d chosen the Boardwalk Hotel as their resort. Online reviews were promising, and when Kurt had spoken with an operator over the phone in regards to it, it seemed pleasant enough.

Josephine was the first out of the bus, leaping from the top stair and out onto the concrete. Kurt winced as he watched her run around excitedly in her strappy sandals. “If she turns an ankle,” he murmured at Blaine, and Blaine looked over his shoulder at Kurt with a grin.

“You think she’s excited now,” he said, and pointed to where Josephine was talking animatedly with one of the valets, “just wait until she actually sees that mouse. She’s been talking about him all week.”

Kurt hummed, flicked at a piece of hair that couldn’t fight the humidity and had wilted across his forehead. “Well,” he slipped a hand into Blaine’s, glanced out of the corner of his eye to make sure Josephine hadn’t somehow miraculously started a fire with how fast she was running around, “when her daddy can’t stop watching his old vhs’s...”

“Hey!” Blaine nudged Kurt with his shoulder. “They’re classics.”

Josephine was making a move for the entrance now, and Kurt dragged Blaine along with him to keep up.

“Well, hello, hello, welcome to Disney’s Boardwalk Resort,” the clerk behind the desk beamed a smile at them, then looked down to Josephine. “And who do we have here?”

Josephine made an attempt to crawl up Kurt’s leg, and when she only succeeded in wrinkling his shorts, he rolled his eyes, “Would it kill you to ask, Fi, come on,” and bent over to pick her up.

“I am Josephine,” she said when Kurt had her on his hip. “But everybody calls me Fi.”

The clerk, Rebecca by the name on her tag, cast a look over the three of them. From the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Blaine tense, expecting a question or a comment or a vague insult, but her smile didn’t falter, her expression didn’t change. “It’s very nice to meet you, Fi. Is this your first time in Disney?”

Josephine’s nod was like her entire body had been jerked backward, and Rebecca laughed as she bent down to dig around for something. “Well,” she said, and stood back up holding a big round pin, “then you get this nifty little button here, so everyone knows it’s your first time with us.”

Blaine took the button from her. “What do you say, Fi?”

She watched, amazed, like it was the coolest thing she’d ever seen, as Blaine pinned the button onto her shirt. “Thank you,” she breathed out, running her tiny finger around the edge of it. “It’s the best thing ever.”

“And you know what else?”

Josephine shook her head, staring at Rebecca with wide eyes.

“Pooh Bear is going to be here in a couple minutes, if you want to meet him.”

“What?” Josephine looked shell-shocked.

“It’s true, Fi,” Rebecca said, and sent a wink to Kurt. “He’s going to sign autographs and everything.”

“What!” Josephine’s voice rose dangerously high, and Kurt had to shush her. “Dad,” she said, tugging on his ear until he angled his head to look at her, and she squished his cheeks between her hands, “did you hear that?”

“I did,” he said. “Why don’t you let Daddy take you to the gift shop to buy an autograph book, and I’ll get our room ready, hm?”

She was already wiggling to get out of his arms. “Yeah, come on,” she hit the ground and took Blaine’s hand, dragging him away. “Did you hear that, Dad. Did you?”

Blaine nodded, letting her tug him around. “I did, Fi.”

“Pooh Bear is going to be here.”

Kurt sighed, turned back to Rebecca with a tired smile. “We’re the Hummel-Anderson’s.”

“Welcome to Disney World,” she said with a toothy smile, and turned to her computer. “Welcome home.”

If Sexy Was a Crime, Kurt/Blaine, NC-17

2012-08-01T05:10:25Z

Title: If Sexy Was a Crime
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 1,811
Summary: Blaine is being lame and needy and Kurt is a jerk.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Extremely cheesy pickup lines. Blowjobs.
Author Notes: I wrote this for the lovely kurtdickmel aka Sophie because I love her. Also, sorry for the lame title.

“Do you have a map?”

Kurt looked up from his magazine and across the couch at Blaine. He was staring intently back at him, one corner of his mouth tweaked into a grin. Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Blaine’s mouth pulled into a proper smile as he slid his foot slowly over the cushion separating them to nudge at Kurt’s. “Because, baby, I’m getting lost in your eyes.”

The snort came before he could stop it, “Oh my god, you cheesy-” he whacked Blaine’s prodding foot with his magazine. “I thought we moved passed that point in our relationship.”

Blaine was struggling to keep a straight face as he scooted over to pluck the magazine out of Kurt’s grasp and drop it on the coffee table. “We have, but I’m bored, and I’m needy, and desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Kurt eyed him for a minute, silent and calculating as he let Blaine rearrange his legs to urge Kurt’s body toward him. Then, when Blaine had a hand around the back of his neck and was trying to tug him forward for a kiss, Kurt said, “We don’t have enough time for sex.”

He sighed out against Kurt’s lips, tilting his head until their foreheads rested softly together. “Hey,” he whispered, and Kurt’s eyes crossed to look at the bend of his lips.

“What?”

Blaine’s eyelids fluttered a little. “If sexy was a crime...”

Kurt scoffed, tried to push him away as the laughter started to bubble out. “Don’t you say it, Blaine Anderson, I swear-”

“Baby, you’d be guilty as charged.”

Blaine pressed in for a kiss then, and Kurt was laughing too hard to resist it, sliding a hand up his chest to rest right over his heart. “So lame,” he murmured between the end of a kiss and the start of another. “So, so, so painfully lame.”

“You love it,” he countered easily, the ghost of his smile left on Kurt’s mouth. A little waggle of the eyebrows, and Blaine was so sure of himself.

“Apparently not enough,” Kurt said, trying to reach around Blaine for his magazine. “I’m not in the mood.”

The smile slipped away slowly, dipping into a frown, and Blaine looked wounded. Really, Kurt found it all too easy. “Fine,” Blaine mumbled, and retreated back to his end of the couch. “I wasn’t really in the mood for sex, either.”

“Perfect,” Kurt lamented, snapping his magazine back open and hoping Blaine couldn’t see the lie written blatantly on his face. “So, you won’t mind if I read you this fantastic recipe for squash stew? It sounds like a great autumn dish.”

Blaine’s face was so pathetically downcast that Kurt was not at all surprised that he could only get halfway through the list of ingredients before Blaine gave a broken whine that fell away into his name. “Kurt...”

There was a familiar warmth in the pit of his stomach, a thrum of excitement that had his grin turning a little giddy, “Yes, alright,” he said, tossing the magazine aside and holding a hand out. Blaine scampered forward immediately, but Kurt held up a finger. “No more cheesy pick up lines.”

“Hey,” Blaine said, and with a charming smile, he pulled Kurt to his feet to press an open kiss to his mouth. “They worked, didn’t they?”

Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine threaded their fingers together to tug him over to the hallway. “My mind is telling me no,” he started, and then Blaine was laughing as they skipped every other stair, hustling their way onto the second story landing.

“But your penis is saying yes?” Blaine finished, and when they stumbled over the last step, he gripped Kurt hard by the sharp point of his hips and pressed him against the nearest wall. “Love you,” he murmured, sucking a kiss just above the collar of his shirt. Kurt hummed, running his hands up Blaine’s back, digging fingernails into cotton.

“So much.” Blaine’s voice cracked as he said it, pressing forward harder, forcing himself up on the tips of his toes as he grabbed the back of Kurt’s knee to lift it up and around his waist. Their teeth hit, and Kurt found himself with a mouthful of Blaine’s tongue as he started rutting. Two humps and then they were slotted together, perfect and hard and throbbing as they groaned into each other’s mouths.

“Love you,” Kurt panted when he had to pull back to breathe, and Blaine just dipped his tongue back in, licking up behind Kurt’s teeth. The pressure was building in his groin, tugging and pulling and he was starting to tremble as Blaine kept the rhythm steady.

“Can we,” Kurt started, turning his head as Blaine tried to kiss him again, but Blaine just nuzzled his nose under Kurt’s jaw to encourage his head back farther. He was still rocking forward, a constant pressure and a teasing promise. “Bed, Blaine, come on.”

He was working a kiss right along the bulb of his jaw, and it made Kurt’s stomach coil even tighter. “Yeah,” he dropped Kurt’s leg and pulled him away from the wall. “Bed, good idea.”

Kurt couldn’t help the snort as Blaine tried to maneuver them through his closed bedroom door without having to let go.

“Blaine, god-” Kurt reached around them to twist the doorknob, because he was getting a little desperate and his pants were a little way too tight. After they stumbled through it, Kurt kicked the door shut behind them, fumbling as he tried to get the fly of his jeans down. “Just,” Kurt tried, but Blaine advanced on him, hefting him up- Kurt squawked like a bird, he had not been expecting that- to waddle them over to the bed and drop him gracelessly onto the mattress. Kurt narrowed his eyes, because Blaine was laughing. “Get naked already, will you?”

Blaine’s mouth canted into a teasing grin, “Only if you get naked first.”

He smiled back, couldn’t help it, and sat up to pull his shirt over his head. When he met Blaine’s eyes, they were dark and staring and Kurt flushed under the gaze. “You too,” he muttered, because no matter how many times they’ve been naked in front of each other, they’ve always been it together.

“Of course,” Blaine said, eyes dipping down Kurt’s body. “You’re really hot.”

Kurt was wiggling his hips, biting his lip to keep the grin at bay as his underwear came off with the jeans, and he was left sitting there, body throbbing and then harder between his legs as he watched Blaine strip down.

Kurt sat back on his elbows, waiting, knees falling open because if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was patient, and Blaine knew it.

Blaine took the bait, eyes fell down Kurt’s body, mouth parted and lips plump-red spit-slick, and Kurt tilted his hips upward just a little, tempting.

The bed dipped when Blaine crawled onto it, hands and knees as he moved toward Kurt, “Wanna blow you,” he said, mouth hovering over Kurt’s, and Kurt moaned into it, pressing his hips upward into Blaine’s. “That okay?”

Kurt laughed breathlessly against his parted lips, working his hips up again. “More than okay,” and Blaine bent into one more kiss, all tongue and teeth and heat.

He broke it with a lick behind his teeth and a smirk, locking eyes as he settled back between Kurt’s legs. “Love you,” he said again, softly, and then, grinning, “be as loud as you want.”

That was all the warning he gave him before he was sinking down.

“Oh,” Kurt arched hard, head falling back and hands moving to twine through Blaine’s hair. His mouth was hot, wet, and Kurt tightened his grip, drawing his knees up in a cradle around Blaine’s head.

Blaine groaned, and okay, okay, Kurt felt the whine edging into his throat as Blaine grappled for his trembling thighs, pushing him open, wide and bare, as his head started to bob.

“Oh, oh god.” Blaine flattened his tongue, pressing hard along the shaft of Kurt’s dick as he moved up, hand following the path as his mouth came off.

One hard twist at the head had Kurt’s hips twitching up, a moan pulled out deep from the back of his throat. Blaine smiled a little. “Good?”

Kurt gave a shaky grin, because that familiar heat was starting to build up heavily in the pit of his stomach, and Blaine was just stroking lazily, dragging it out, letting it simmer. “Blaine.”

He tilted his head, and if this was some sort of casual exchange over the dinner table, Kurt might have been amused. But it wasn’t. And Kurt was not. So, a little more desperately, “Blaine.”

Blaine brought his eyes back to Kurt’s cock, flushed and hard and shining with his saliva, waiting between his legs. He licked his lips.

Yeah, Kurt was close. Really, really close.

Blaine dipped his head forward, poking his tongue out to tease along the slit, and Kurt took in his flushed cheeks, his closed eyes and the fan of his lashes because god, his boyfriend was hot.

Blaine bent forward further, his hips working against the bed to relieve the friction his own cock was looking for, and sank his mouth down slowly, taking Kurt in a little bit at a time. He still held Kurt open, fingers digging hard into the tender flesh of his thighs, leaving Kurt to grip the bed sheets, whimpering pathetically as his cock slowly disappeared behind Blaine’s lips. He wasn’t going to last.

It wasn’t long before Blaine had all of him, lips stretched wide and red as his eyes drifted up to Kurt. He did his best to stare back, but then Blaine hummed, slow and steady, and with a choked off cry, Kurt was coming, pulsing hard down Blaine’s throat as Blaine swallowed around him, moaning with it as a hand dropped between his legs to palm at himself.

It took a minute for Kurt to steady his breathing, one arm slung over his eyes as Blaine pulled off him, panting and smiling, satisfied with himself. “You are,” Kurt tried, and then gave up. Settled with pulling Blaine into a lazy kiss.

Blaine pressed his hips forward against Kurt’s hip, a gentle reminder that he was still hard and aching, and Kurt grinned. “Blaine,” he said softly, reaching up a hand to cradle his cheek. “Did you just fart?”

Blaine gasped, jerking away like he’d been burnt. “What-”

Kurt grabbed his arm, anchoring him. “Because you just blew me away.”

Blaine stilled, blinked down at him, mouth hanging open. “You-”

Kurt chortled happily to himself, sitting up to press Blaine back into the pillows. “No talking,” he said seriously, patting the inside of Blaine’s thigh to encourage his legs open. “I’ll have my mouth full.”

Thanks for reading, and comments/reviews/critiques are welcome! ♥

Halfway to Nowhere (4/?), Kurt/Blaine, NC-17

2012-05-06T15:36:18Z

Title: Halfway to Nowhere
Author: sailorraspberry
Chapter Rating: NC-17
Overall Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~2,500 / ~8,900
Summary: It's not the ideal vacation, but Kurt's willing to accept the excuse to escape the pressing hold of Lima. It's a simple family getaway to the new lake house, except it's everything but.
Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
Spoilers: None
Warnings: AU. Blaine is approximately two years older than Kurt. Eventual drugs, alcohol, and sex.
Author Notes: School sucks, so therefore I suck at updating, but here you are! Do enjoy!

“Where have you been?”

Kurt closed the door slowly behind him, because it was almost nine o’clock and Carole and Burt were sitting in front of a muted television, ghostlike and stern as they took him in.

“I, well-”

“You’ve been gone since seven this morning. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re focusing on your physical fitness, but I doubt a jog needs that large of a time slot.” His dad was reclined in the rocking chair, arms crossed over his chest and a half empty bowl of popcorn cold on the table beside him.

Kurt licked his lips, feeling a little trapped, because he couldn’t just jump into an explanation saying that he had spent all day on a couch with the neighbor they’ve barely even met once, kissing and laughing and letting fingers roam. He couldn’t do that, not if he wanted to send his father back to the hospital.

Carole was looking at him with pursed his lips, and he was going to have to throw his luck to the wind and hope that she had his back.

“I was with Blaine,” he said easily, stepping farther into the room and hooking thumbs through belt loops. “He saw me and asked if I wanted to, you know,” he shrugged, hoping for indifference, “hang out.”

Burt squinted over at him, speculating. Kurt tried not to recoil under the look. “What’s this kid’s name again?”

Kurt’s gaze flickered over to Carole.

She coughed gently into the back of her hand. “His name’s Blaine, sweetheart. He seems very sweet.”

“Yeah,” Burt rubbed at the stubble underneath his chin, “sweet on my son.”

“Dad.” Kurt was floundering, pink and embarrassed and desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. “Where’s Finn?”

“Upstairs talking to Rachel, seeing if she wants to drive up here this weekend.” Burt’s eyes tracked Kurt as he picked his way through the kitchen. “Why don’t you invite Blaine over for dinner tomorrow? He’s up here by himself, right?”

Kurt flicked on the tap water and squirted some soap into his palm. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, lathering up. “He’s kind of busy trying to get things cleaned up before the rest of his family comes up.”

“Can’t hurt to ask, can it?”

Kurt looked to Carole, blank faced and trying desperately to send her a telepathic message that screamed help.

She didn’t receive it. “Your dad’s right, honey. We should really get to know this boy if you’re going to be spending so much time with him.”

He scowled and looked down into the sink to watch as the soap bubbles rushed down the drain. “Fine,” he muttered, snatching up the dishtowel to dry off his hands. “Don’t be disappointed when he kindly declines the offer, though.”

Kurt made a start for the stairs, but his father’s voice halted him. “Where’re you going, kid? Call him right here. No big deal.”

With his back toward them, Kurt closed his eyes and took in the deepest breath he could. “Sure,” he said calmly, turning around and reaching for his phone.

Blaine picked up on the second ring. “Hey there.” His tone was deep and laced with the promise of a smile. “Couldn’t get me out of your mind?”

Kurt’s eyes flickered over to Burt- he was watching Kurt with narrowed, judging eyes- and tried to keep the strain out of his voice. “Actually, no, I have a question for you.”

There was a very noticeable pause where even Blaine’s breathing stilled, and then, “You didn’t call me for phone sex, did you?”

Kurt felt his breath hitch and the tips of his ears begin to burn. “Uhm, not exactly, no.” He had to clear his throat as he started walking back toward the kitchen to lean his hip against the counter, one arm crossed over his chest. “Actually, my dad’s wondering if you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night? If you’re not busy, that is. So, by all means, if you’ve got other plans, then feel free to decline, because-”

“Kurt.”

Kurt stopped.

“I’d love to come.”

He closed his eyes. “Are you sure you aren’t busy or something? Because we would totally understand if you were.”

Burt and Carole were staring at him, expectant.

“Not busy enough. What time would you like me to make an appearance?”

“Uhm,” he brought his other hand up to cup the receiver. “He’s asking what time he should come over.”

Burt rubbed at the top of his bald head, the corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smile. “Half past three? That sound like a good time, Carole?”

She nodded, offered a small smile for Kurt. “Perfect.”

He relayed the information to Blaine, a little dismayed, to which Blaine responded with a cheery laugh. “From the sounds of it, I’m getting the impression that you don’t want me over?” Kurt harrumphed into the phone, and Blaine laughed again. “Ask if they’d like me to bring anything?”

Kurt asked, and Carole’s feathers ruffled. “Of course not! He’s going to be a guest!”

“Negative,” he said. Then, glancing over to Burt one more time, “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Blaine hummed his affirmation. “Do me a favor?”

Kurt stayed silent, playing with the hem of his shirt as he waited for Blaine to continue.

“Call me when everyone’s gone to bed?”

Kurt felt a smile begin to pull at his lips. “Bye, Blaine.”

Blaine laughed gently, and it tickled the shell of Kurt’s ear. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Kurt was still smiling even after he cut the call.

-

The clock read midnight when he finally crawled into bed, the house silent and still around him, full of jagged shadows and a pressing anticipation. Kurt could feel it, thrumming through the floorboards and up through the soles of his feet. He fell back against the pillows, spread out overtop the blankets and still damp from his shower, wrapped up tightly in his favorite cotton robe with his phone held tightly against his chest.

Blaine was probably just as he was, in bed staring at the ceiling with his phone somewhere at his side, shirtless and hair still wet from his own shower.

Kurt’s blood stirred at the mental image, playing again and again at the front of his mind like a broken cassette tape. And that was enough to urge him to find Blaine’s number, phone pressed tightly against his ear with both hands as he listening breathlessly as it rang once, twice, three times. And then Blaine’s voice was flooding over his skin.

“Kurt Hummel,” he breathed into the receiver, and Kurt shivered at the sound, “I do believe it is way past your bedtime.”

He bit his lip, felt a smile coming, but he forced it down to school his face into a proper frown. “I do believe a certain someone requested that I call him?”

Blaine laughed, quiet and controlled like he was afraid to disturb the world that was asleep around him. “You’re right, you’re right. How silly of me to forget.”

Kurt could tell Blaine was smiling, just a little, one corner of his mouth probably quirked, and it made his chest clench and his stomach tighten and he breathed out slowly, “Blaine.”

“Want to know a secret?” Blaine whispered, and Kurt nodded fiercely against the phone. But Blaine couldn’t see him, so he murmured back a yes and listened intently. “I asked you to call me because I’m going to teach you something new.”

Kurt’s breath snagged, fingers flexing around his phone, but Blaine continued smoothly, voice low against his ear.

“I want you to jerk yourself off for me, Kurt.”

“I-” but the words tapered off into a broken moan, blood rushing quickly up to his face and down to his cock, because Blaine was listening and Blaine was probably imagining him, legs spread and hips moving against the circle of his own fist. He moaned again, a little more fully, and shot his hand down to press the palm against himself. “How?”

He could hear some hurried rustling and then Blaine hissed, breathing harshly out through his nose, and Kurt’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement and maybe even a little mortification. “Are you...?”

“You’re so hot, Kurt, and you probably don’t even know it.”

Kurt licked his lips when Blaine grunted softly, and he slipped his hand beneath his robe, running the pads of his fingers along the band of his boxers. “Blaine.” Broken voice, desperate but confused and nervous. “How?” He was hot and tingling everywhere, toes curling under as he dipped a fingertip inside his underwear, brushing over the jutting bone of his hip.

“Tease yourself, babe. Drag it out. Do what you like.” Blaine voice was thick and raw, and Kurt’s eyes slanted shut when he finally, finally wrapped his hand around himself. “Gently, and let me hear you. I want to hear you, Kurt.”

The first upstroke had him keening, arching a little off the bed and Blaine groaned into his ear. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Kurt whimpered, tightened his fingers at the base of his cock and he felt himself throb, hard and heavy against his palm.

“Wish you were here, Kurt. Wish I was watching you.”

And that image, Blaine standing at the end of the bed, smirking and watching as Kurt slowly unraveled under his gaze, sent a bolt of excitement down his spine, forcing his hips up hard and pulling a moan from his throat.

“So beautiful, Kurt. Perfect.” Kurt twisted his wrist hard, struggling to keep the phone pressed to his ear as he brought his knees up and his robe fell open, underwear tucked under his balls and adding to the building pressure. Too much at once, it seemed, Blaine groaning in his ear and Kurt groaning into the still air around him, movements jerky and frantic now, desperate to get off.

“Are-” Kurt had to stop, cut off the words because he was panting too hard, hips moving wildly with the motion of his hand. “Close? Tell me you’re close.”

“So, close, Kurt. So close.” Blaine moaned again, loud, so terribly broken, and Kurt swiped his thumb harshly over the head of his cock, sticky and slippery, and then he arched hard, hand freezing as his orgasm struck him. And Blaine gasped, came, and Kurt rode it out with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, the sounds lodged into the back of his throat, like they were trying to claw their way out but couldn’t quite get there.

The haze lifted slowly, Kurt still panting into the mouthpiece of his phone with his legs spread open, body numb and tingling. “Wow,” he whispered, and Blaine huffed out a laugh.

“Wow is hardly an appropriate term,” he said, and Kurt smiled despite himself, quickly pulling his underwear back up and tucking himself in. “But considering that that was one of the hottest things I have ever heard, I’ll settle for it.”

Kurt flushed, sliding his legs closed as the embarrassment started to kick in. “I honestly cannot believe I just did that.”

Blaine was silent for a second. Then, tentatively, softly, “Are you regretting it?”

Kurt twisted against the sheets, rolling over to look out of window, limbs and eyelids heavy, cradling the phone gently against his ear as he whispered, “Absolutely not.”

He could practically hear the smile crack across Blaine’s face. “Good,” he said, and Kurt smiled along with him.

Then, “Uhm, Blaine?”

Sighing, happy, “Yes, Kurt?”

“How am I supposed to look you in the eye tomorrow, in front of my dad, when I know that we’ve done... this.”

“Ah, but that’s part of the fun, though. I get to sit and have dinner with my lovely new neighbors knowing that I’ve heard their son come.” Kurt squawked, pressing a hand over his eyes as Blaine laughed loudly at him. “I’m kidding, Kurt! You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Kurt was working at a reply, but then a yawn tumbled over the words instead, and Blaine made a disapproving noise. “Go to bed, Kurt.”

“I am in bed,” he said quietly, because he like listening to Blaine’s voice, liked hearing him talk. “Just don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Goodnight, Kurt,” Blaine said warmly, and Kurt sighed despite himself. “Dream of me.”

Not a question, a statement, like Blaine knew Kurt would.

“See you tomorrow, Blaine,” Kurt said, and then, before he pulled his phone away to end the call. “Dream of me, too.”

-

Kurt woke from a dreamless sleep to stiff sheets and someone knocking frantically on his door.

He groaned, rolled over onto his back to stretch, mewling like a cat basking in warm afternoon sunlight.

The knocking persisted, and he grumbled under his breath.

“What?” he called out, a little awkwardly because he was still stretched out tall.

And then someone- not Burt or Carole or Finn, but a voice he still knew and had committed to memory- called back, “You better be decent, Kurt Hummel, because I am barging in on the count of three.”

Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed as he fumbled, trying to close the front of his robe.

She didn’t count to three, but Kurt was expecting that, so when Rachel Berry pushed open his door and twirled into the room, he was already smiling with his blanket draped over his lap.

“Surprise!” she said, flinging her arms out to her sides, happy and grinning, and Kurt couldn’t hold back the laugh.

“I thought you were coming this weekend?” Kurt watched as she dropped to her knees onto the bed, mindful of her dress and sandals and Kurt hiding underneath the blankets.

“Oh, I was supposed to, but Finn called me last night claiming that he was practically dying of boredom, and I decided that coming up a few days earlier really couldn’t hurt anyone.” She smiled wide, putting her hands on her hips. “And I brought my karaoke machine.”

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“And,” she reached for his hand, and Kurt held out his left to grasp her fingers, “someone needs to get dressed so he can come downstairs and start helping with the barbeque. Your dad tells me that your neighbor is coming over for dinner?”

Kurt pursed his lips.

Rachel smirked. “Is he cute?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes.

Rachel’s smirk grew into a blinding beam. “Details later?”

He sighed, pulled his hand back to reach over to the bedside table. He had two new text messages, one from Rachel two hours ago, and the other from Blaine, fifteen minutes ago.

He read it quickly- just thought I’d let you know that I’ll have you naked and spread out on my bed soon enough, because it’s one thing to hear you moan for me, but if I can be the one to make you moan...- and he felt his face warm and he desperately hoped Rachel didn’t notice.

She did, because she squealed and flopped over into the pillows.

“Yes,” Kurt said to her, “definitely details later.”

← ♥ →

Critiques/comments would be lovely ♥

Halfway to Nowhere (3/?), Kurt/Blaine, PG-13

2012-04-16T00:47:02Z

Title: Halfway to Nowhere
Author: sailorraspberry
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Overall Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~2,300 / ~6,400
Summary: It's not the ideal vacation, but Kurt's willing to accept the excuse to escape the pressing hold of Lima. It's a simple family getaway to the new lake house, except it's everything but.
Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 |
Spoilers: None
Warnings: AU. Blaine is approximately two years older than Kurt. Eventual drugs, alcohol, and sex.
Author Notes: I did writing sprints to pump this chapter out instead of doing homework. Which I have no problem with at all. Enjoy!

They met again the next morning, sitting across from each other on a sandy bank in the honeydew sunlight, knees touching and grins wide. Kurt had knocked on Blaine’s door at exactly seven, as he had requested the previous night before he dropped Kurt off at his own lake house with his bag from the mini-mart. He had tugged Kurt’s face toward his with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, whispering gently against his ear the time and leaving a smile pressed into Kurt’s skin.

Now, Blaine watched Kurt with an open curiosity, his head tilted a little bit to take him, his fingers laced through the white sand. “What have you done?”

Kurt’s face was pink under his gaze, lips pressed tightly together as he eyed Blaine with a lowered brow. “In regards to...”

Blaine just shrugged, as if no explanation was necessary, and reclined backwards onto his palms. “In regards to life. Adventures.” He lifted an eyebrow in return to Kurt’s questioning stare, mocking him without really meaning to. “Loves. Fears.” His smile was easy, open and trusting as he jostled his knee against Kurt’s. “Anything.”

That was the thing about Blaine, Kurt found. He was this boy with a dazzling smile and trusting eyes, and Kurt was falling into him, feelings first and head last. But he couldn’t find the nerve to worry, to concern himself about it.

“You want to know my secrets,” Kurt replied carefully, picking at the lace of his tennis shoe. When he peered up at Blaine, Blaine was looking back, unashamed. Another blush, and then he found a tone that was a little dubious to say, “I don’t know if I can trust you with my secrets just yet.”

Blaine sat back up, grabbing Kurt’s hand from where it sat on his shoe to tug it over and rest it against his knee. “I could tell you a secret of mine, if it’d make you feel better.” He brushed his thumb once over Kurt’s knuckles and then he was leaning back again, leaving Kurt to stare down at where his hand bent gently around Blaine’s bare kneecap. His skin was warm under Kurt’s palm, and somehow a blush rushed up the back of his neck.

Kurt was sure Blaine noticed, because his smile turned a little mysterious, a little dark, and the look made Kurt’s toes curl under.

Blaine, still wearing that teasing, mysterious smile, reached back over to grab his hand again. “Come here.”

Kurt blinked at him.

“Come on,” Blaine tugged at his arm a little, urging him forward. “I don’t bite.”

It took him a second, but he finally went, walking on his knees to where Blaine wanted him, their fingers intertwined a little awkwardly, but the fit work. They both fell back onto the sand together, on their backs so they could look up through the trees and toward the sky. Blaine squeezed his fingers.

“My first kiss was in the fourth grade, behind a dumpster during recess,” he said, tilting his head to find Kurt staring upward, the clouds mirrored in his eyes. Blaine nudged him with his elbow to catch his attention. “Okay, what I’m about to tell you. You can’t judge me.”

Kurt’s head fell to the side to look at him, and his eyes grew wide as Blaine worked his foot under his ankle and just let it rest there. Kurt tried to control his voice, tried to swallow down the sudden lump of nervousness that ebbed its way into the base of his throat. “No judgment on my part.”

“I know,” Blaine said easily, twisting up and over to hover above Kurt. “Well, my first kiss was with a girl.”

Kurt’s laugh came sputtering out of him. “What?”

Blaine scowled, leaning up on one elbow as the other hand came around to poke Kurt in the side. “One of my life’s greatest regrets. Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not, I swear.” Kurt batted at Blaine’s hand when it settled against the bottom of his ribcage. “That’s funny, because my first kiss was with a girl, too.” Blaine hummed, silly, and dipped his head to nose along Kurt’s collarbone. He felt his breath hitch.

Blaine touched his lips gently to the curve of Kurt’s shoulder, pressing a kiss there through the fabric of his sleeve. “Tell me more,” he purred, purred, and Kurt felt something hot pool in the pit of his stomach.

“I, uhm, it’s not really-” The words got caught, stuck before they were formed, and Blaine took advantage, dipping his fingers a little more insistently against Kurt’s side. And then his leg was up and over Kurt’s waist, heavy against his abdomen as Blaine steadied himself into a straddle.

Blaine grinned down at him as he plucked up one of Kurt’s wrists, brought it to his mouth and laid his lips on the sensitive, tender skin there. Kurt’s pulse was thrumming, and Blaine felt it- Kurt could see it in the way Blaine’s eyes shifted up to his.

“Do I make you nervous, Kurt?” Blaine murmured, relocating Kurt’s hand to his thigh, helping him fan out his fingers and find a grip.

Kurt’s throat was parched, sandpaper dry, and Blaine’s grin turned smug when Kurt nodded.

“I’m going to kiss you now, I think.”

Kurt’s eyes flickered quickly over Blaine’s face before they settled on his lips, pink and plump and still grinning. “Okay,” he whispered, and brought his other hand up to Blaine’s thigh to squeeze. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Blaine ran a hand up Kurt’s chest and stopped it at the column of his neck, and Kurt could feel his pulse rushing under his fingertips. “To be quite honest, since we’re on the topic,” he said, hand bent to wrap around the back of Kurt’s neck, “I would have kissed you even if you said no.”

Kurt eyes fluttered as Blaine bent down, and his hands moved from Blaine’s thighs to his waist, finding a grip in his shirt and holding on tight.

The initial touch of lips was quick, a test to gauge a reaction, and then his mouth pulled away, just slightly, lingering over parted lips.

A rush of excitement shot through Kurt as Blaine’s breath fanned over his cheeks, and the sensation came onto Kurt so quickly that he gasped on an inhale. But Blaine just smirked, sat back on Kurt’s thighs and licked across his bottom lip, tasting.

Kurt, slanting his eyes and tilting his head back, baring his neck to Blaine, mimicked the action, let his tongue rest at the corner of his mouth. He was testing, trying out the tease, and Blaine’s reaction made him preen.

Blaine’s eyes darkened, a deep honey in the morning sunlight, and he chuckled out, “You’re teasing,” before he swooped back down.

Kurt brought his head up to catch the next kiss, mouth falling open easily underneath Blaine’s, their tongues curling against each other, a new, strange sensation. He felt it in the pit of his stomach.

Blaine sucked Kurt’s tongue into his mouth, pressed it against the back of his teeth. Kurt tried to swallow the moan that ebbed its way into his throat.

Blaine pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, lips plump as his eyes caught and held Kurt’s. “You can do that, you know.”

“I-” Kurt’s hands fell back to Blaine’s thighs as he struggled to control his breathing, lips and tongue tingling. The sensation felt naughty, dirty, and his heart beat faster at the thought. “What?”

Blaine stared at him for a second, eyes squinted like he was evaluating something. “Where do your parents think you are?”

“Jogging,” he answered, hesitating, and then Blaine was standing up, dusting off his hands against his thighs before reaching one out to Kurt.

“Come with me?”

-

Kurt fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch in Blaine’s living room, perched on the edge of the cushions, fingers twisting in his lap as Blaine fussed around in the kitchen with the coffee machine. Lexie had lifted her head upon their entrance, eyes glossy with sleep, before she snuffled with disinterest and curled back up on her pillow.

“She’s cute when she’s not charging at you,” Kurt had thrown out offhandedly while Blaine cooed at her.

He had laughed, hooked a finger through Kurt’s belt loop to guide him over to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. If she decides she likes you, she might want to cuddle.”

Kurt flashed an unwary face at which Blaine laughed, loud and unabashed, before he bumped Kurt down onto the couch with his hip.

“You know,” Blaine called out suddenly, jerking Kurt back to the present, “I had a dream about you last night.”

“Yeah?” Kurt replied, trying to relax back into the cushions, tilting his head to watch Blaine shuffle around the kitchen. “Was I as dazzling as I am in reality?”

It was a daring question, but Blaine’s face cracked into a grin as he made his way back toward the living room. He was gorgeous, Kurt noted absently, lean muscles and curly hair and just so exotically beautiful that Kurt’s heart skipped a dangerous, dangerous beat.

Blaine flopped down on the couch beside Kurt, kicking his legs out to fall on the coffee table and bringing an arm around to rest on the cushion behind Kurt’s head. “Well, for one, you were naked.”

Kurt blanched.

Blaine’s fingers weaved through the hair on the back of his head, massaging gently, encouragingly. “If reality has any correlation to my dream,” hazel eyes dipping down his body, “I’m in for a quite the pleasant surprise.”

Kurt inhaled slowly, shakily, and angled his body to face Blaine. “Blaine.”

Blaine’s eyes flickered over his face, smile stuck in place. But then, as he took in Kurt’s expression, the smile fell away. “What?” Nervous. “Am I freaking you out?”

Kurt huffed out a laugh, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “No, no, you’re- flattering.” He took a risk, reached out a hand to tug on one of Blaine’s curls. “It’s just. Okay. Secret time.”

The corner of Blaine’s mouth twitched. “Secret time? Really?”

Kurt pursed his lips. “Work with me here. I’m telling you a secret.” He waited, eyeing Blaine for a reaction. Then, when Blaine nodded for Kurt to continue, he withdrew his hand to clasp his fingers together. “The thing is, I mean, I really liked the way you kissed me today. Like, really liked it. And yeah, when you talk about me being-” he paused, sucked in a shuttering breath, “naked, I get all warm and tingly and nervous, and I don’t know if it’s because you’re cute or-”

“You think I’m cute?” Blaine flashed him the widest grin he could muster, and Kurt’s laugh came out more like a shaky exhale. “Sorry,” Blaine took Kurt’s chin between his fingers, tilted his head up until he could look into his eyes. “Continue.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open as Blaine’s thumb swiped over his bottom lip. “I’m a virgin.”

The pause that followed was silent, Blaine’s thumb caught on Kurt’s lip and eyes squinting intently. “Kurt.”

He jerked away, standing up and nearly stumbling over the coffee table as he flushed hotly, red from head to toe. “I know. I’m eighteen and I’m a big, bumbling virgin trying to not look clueless while you prance around being so very much not a virgin.” He was spiraling into panic mode, hands flying around madly as he spoke. “And I really, really, thought I could be some kind of mysterious object of desire, be someone else for a change because I’m going away to college soon and I’m kind of looking for change but I’m-”

He wasn’t sure when Blaine had stood up, but all of a sudden his hands were cupping Kurt’s face, drawing him in for a slow, open, numbing kiss.

Kurt fell silent immediately, eyelashes fluttered as he tried to focus on Blaine’s face, his own hands coming up to rest over the one’s cradling his cheeks.

“Kurt,” Blaine pulled away, just enough so he could take in all of Kurt’s face, “you’re adorable.”

Kurt flushed, holding onto Blaine’s hands tighter. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not looking for someone who’s adorable?” he mumbled miserably, eyes downcast, and if he had felt dumb before, he certainly felt ridiculous now.

Blaine’s lips brushed across the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t come here expecting anyone, honestly.” His hands lowered, slipped around Kurt’s waist until they rested against the dip of his back. “But, much to my surprise, I find you. You, who wants me to teach you.” Another kiss, gentle over the curve of an eyebrow. “I figured you were a virgin, Kurt. All that blushing you do.”

Kurt stayed silent, because Blaine was working his hands under the back of Kurt’s shirt, just resting his palms against warm skin, lightly pressing Kurt closer, wrapping around him like some inescapable drug.

“I’m going to teach you things you’ve never thought possible,” Blaine whispered, head dipping forward so lips could slide against neck. “One step at a time,” he guided Kurt back over to the couch, arranging him neatly on the cushions.

Kurt felt goosebumps run down his arms as Blaine’s hands gently pushed Kurt’s knees apart so his hips could slide into place in the gap. “Step one?” Kurt questioned quietly, hands coming up to trace the outline of Blaine’s shoulders, accepting him as he tilted Kurt backwards onto the couch.

Blaine hummed, caught Kurt’s mouth and slipped his tongue inside briefly before pulling away to whisper back. “Step one.” A lopsided smile that was charming and goofy. “Kissing.”

← ♥ →

Critiques/comments are like sweet boy kisses to me ♥

Leftovers, KurtxBlaine, PG

2012-04-09T00:14:31Z

Title: Leftovers
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 472
Summary: Kurt and Blaine unwinding after a busy Easter day.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: A fluffy, slightly belated daddy!Klaine Easter fic. Un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

"Oh, thank god." Blaine flopped back against the end of the bed, spreading out as best he could with his feet still touching the floor. “Hectic day.”

Kurt hummed his agreement as he toed the door shut and tugged off his shirt. “Fi’s passed out on the couch. Josiah’s on the phone. Told him the cell phone’s away at eleven.” Kurt worked off his belt next, letting it fall to the floor as he crawled onto the mattress to curl into Blaine’s side.

Blaine adjusted an arm to let Kurt’s head fall onto his shoulder. “Good day, huh?”

“Mhm. Fi is still convinced that the Easter Bunny is real, so I’d call it successful.” He nosed against Blaine’s temple and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then, slinging a leg over Blaine’s waist, “Do you think she’s too old to still believe in stuff like that? Santa and the Easter Bunny.”

“The Tooth Fairy, too.” Blaine reached down to tug Kurt’s leg a little farther up. Kurt let him do it. “All these years and you’ve still got the flexibility of an Olympic gymnast.”

“Blaine.” Kurt shoved at his jaw playfully and then, with a little bit of awkward twisting and wiggling, drew himself up and over Blaine’s hips.

Blaine’s hands fell easily over Kurt’s thighs, just resting there calmly as he looked up at Kurt with a smile. “This is my favorite angle of you, you know.”

“Blaine!” Kurt thumped a fist against his chest, and when Blaine tried to grab it, he caught his wrist and pinned it beside his head. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Blaine held a steady gaze for as long as he could before a small grin cracked through and he relented with a sigh. “Next year, I think we should tell her. A couple of weeks before she starts kindergarten, so that way she doesn’t go into school telling all the other kids that Santa isn’t real and we get a call home saying Fi made a kid cry.”

Kurt hummed again, letting go of Blaine’s wrist to shimmy off of him. Blaine made a noise of protest, wrapping both feet around one of his knees to keep him from getting far. “Where’re you going.”

Kurt couldn’t bite back the laugh as he broke through Blaine’s hold. “There’s some leftover chocolate.”

Blaine perked up a bit. “Yeah?”

A nod, a tilt of the hip. “Want some?”

Blaine groaned and let his head fall back. “You know me so well, babe.” And when Kurt came back with a bag of Reese’s, had one ready to pop into Blaine’s waiting mouth, Blaine groaned again and pulled Kurt back down onto the bed. “Better than sex.”

Kurt snorted. “Doubtful,” he said, climbing back over Blaine’s waist and unwrapping another candy with a wicked grin. "Very doubtful."

Halfway to Nowhere (2/?), Kurt/Blaine, PG

2012-04-05T19:49:22Z

Title: Halfway to Nowhere
Author: sailorraspberry
Chapter Rating: PG
Overall Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~2,100 / ~4,100
Summary: It's not the ideal vacation, but Kurt's willing to accept the excuse to escape the pressing hold of Lima. It's a simple family getaway to the new lake house, except it's everything but.
Chapters: | 1 | 2 |
Spoilers: None
Warnings: AU. Blaine is approximately two years older than Kurt. Eventual drugs, alcohol, and sex.
Author Notes: I'm really, really sorry for the delay. I suck at life, apparently. But I've been writing bits and pieces over the last two and a half weeks, and finally was able to pump out the rest of the chapter. Enjoy!

Kurt had taken to the entire aspect of nature a lot more quickly than he had originally intended.

The deck, particularly, drew him in. The wood was smooth under bare feet and was angled right at the rising sun on the far side of the lake, brilliantly red and orange and pink as it broke through the horizon.

Kurt drew his legs up underneath him, tucked away in the corner of the deck on a plastic lawn chair. He cradled his mug of coffee carefully, just soaking up the scent and letting it slowly coax him from the last remnants of sleep. It was nice, being able to settle back and just look out, without having to worry about the time or the place or his schedule. Something he never felt he had the luxury to do.

Kurt felt a smile twist up as he brought the mug to his mouth, because serenity was foreign to him, an out of touch concept since the last year had been so hectic- campaigns for Congress and interviews for college and the looming presence of future.

He looked out to the lake again, eyebrows quirking, and he felt a little bubble of excitement press up into his throat.

-

He knocked before he could convince himself to turn back, locking his hands behind his back and rocking up onto the balls of his feet. There was some scuffling, a dog’s nails slipping around on wood floors, then the door was pulled open and Blaine was there, staring at Kurt through the outer screen door as Lexie pressed her nose between his legs.

His hand didn’t move from the doorknob, just sat there gently as his mouth quirked up into a pleased grin.

Kurt smiled back, brought his hands around to settle on his hips. “Is it too late to take you up on your offer?”

Blaine hesitated, eyes dropping a little to look over Kurt, tracing the lines of bones and muscles, and Kurt’s heart fluttered under his gaze.

Then, quickly, “Let me get my shoes,” and Kurt felt his shoulders slump in relief.

-

An hour later, Blaine had shared with Kurt as many secrets as his memory could conjure. Little things about what time of day the water was at its warmest, where the deer slept and when the owls came out at night. Which trees were best for climbing and what angle to take when swinging from the rope and out into the water.

Kurt had listened emphatically, because Blaine liked to talk with his hands, beautiful and elegant and captivating. And as the sun rose higher, so did the rationality of life, and soon Kurt was laughing at nothing as Blaine led him out onto the dock.

“What?” Blaine asked, a smile curving and eyes squinting to speculate. “What’s so funny?”

Kurt shrugged, trying his hardest to bite back the laughter as he plopped down onto the edge of the dock, peeling off shoes and socks. “It’s nothing.”

Blaine came into his peripheral, thigh touching thigh as he sat down beside him, and Kurt’s laughter ebbed away into a small smile. “I didn’t think it would be this...magical.” Kurt reached for the water with his toes. “I almost didn’t even come. Because I’ve never been a fan of nature. You know, with fragile skin and all. And I would have missed all of this.”

Blaine shifted beside him, leaning back on his palms. Kurt could feel his eyes on his back, examining, considering, but Kurt just swung his legs and let him look. Across the lake, a family of ducks swam along languidly, and one looked their way, tilting its tiny head.

“Have you ever wondered,” Blaine said, almost a whisper, and Kurt’s ears perked a bit to make sure that he had even spoken at all, “how much you’re actually missing. How much you haven’t done.”

Kurt’s legs stilled.

He felt Blaine move beside him, sitting back up.

“Have you?”

Kurt inhaled shakily, because this was different, weird. He turned his head to meet Blaine’s searching eyes, shaking his head.

Blaine hummed softly, leaning in a little, and when Blaine caught and held his gaze, Kurt’s pulse skittered.

Blaine’s eyes jumped down to his mouth. Kurt sucked in a breath, held it.

“Well,” Blaine hooked his foot around the back of Kurt’s ankle, and the contact sent a jolt of excitement through the core of his bones. “I can show you.”

“You don’t even know who I am.” Kurt replied carefully. “Where I’ve been. What I’ve gone through.”

Blaine tilted his head and the first touch of lips, right along the bulb of his jaw, made Kurt jump. “You show me, then.” Warm, soft breath against his neck, his chin, over his mouth as Blaine looked right into his eyes. “Teach me.”

“Kurt!”

They both jumped, knocking heads with a crack, and Blaine hissed, hands flying to cover his forehead. “Oh my god, crap,” Kurt jerked away, grabbing Blaine’s face, holding onto him fast even as he tried to pull away. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. Crap.” He pulled at Blaine’s hands, but Blaine batted him away.

“Stop, I’m fine.” Blaine smiled, lowered his hands as Kurt started fussing again.

“You should go,” Kurt said softly, running his thumb over the bump rising on Blaine’s forehead. “Ice it. It’ll probably bruise.”

“And yet you remain unscathed,” Blaine said with a wink as he took Kurt’s hand and removed it from his face. “I’ll see you later.”

Panic pressed into his throat as Blaine started to stand. “Yeah?”

He looked down at him and, after a long, stretching pause, reached out a hand to Kurt. “Absolutely.”

Kurt’s hand slotted easily into Blaine’s.

And what Blaine said next sent a shiver down Kurt’s spine.

“Maybe I’ll show you a few things.”

-

Burt was leaning against the railing of the deck, both palms pressed flat against the top, watching as Kurt hurried through the yard and up the stairs. “Where’d you run off to?”

Kurt came to stand beside him, and Burt could feel the thrumming excitement rolling off him in waves.

“Exploring,” was his breathless reply.

“You hungry?”

Kurt blinked, bringing a hand over his stomach. He had forgotten that he hadn’t eaten.

Burt nudged him with his shoulder. “Carole’s got bacon and eggs on the stove as we speak. Better hustle in before Finn devours it all.”

Kurt nodded, giving his dad a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks, Dad.”

He gave Kurt a look. “For what?”

Kurt just shrugged and moved toward the house. “For everything. For bringing me here.”

Burt regarded him with narrowed eyes. “No problem, kiddo.”

Carole greeted Kurt with a blinding smile as she shoveled a pile of eggs onto a plate with a spatula. “You’re already getting some sun, Kurt. It looks good on you.”

“If you’re talking about my freckles, then thank you, Carole.” He accepted the plate as she handed it off to him. “Do we have orange juice?”

“Fridge.”

Kurt deposited his plate onto the counter where Finn sat perched on a stool- “Don’t touch it, Finn, I’m watching you.”- and pulled open the refrigerator. “Any plans for today?”

Finn sat hunched over his plate, moving his eggs around with his fork. “I have to clean out the shed by the lake.”

“Fun,” Kurt said as he sat down with his glass of orange juice. “Need any help?”

“Really?”

Kurt snorted. “No.”

“Wow, you’re a jerk,” Finn muttered around his last forkful of eggs, reaching over the counter to drop his plate into the sink. “I hope you stub your toe on a boulder.”

Kurt laughed, swiveling around to watch Finn trump over to the door. “So,” Kurt said to Carole as soon as Finn was gone, “do you need me to run into town to pick anything up?”

She looked up at him carefully as he started in on his breakfast. With a curiously raised eyebrow, she bent down to reach under the sink, but then he heard her mutter, “Dish soap.”

“What was that?” He said, pressing his forearms into the counter to peer over it.

Carole was laughing at him when she stood back up. “Kurt.”

“Carole.”

“Is that neighbor boy going to escort you into town?”

Kurt’s cheeks bloomed and Carole snickered. “How did you-”

“He came over to thank us for the cupcakes after you had gone to bed. He’s very sweet.” She was grinning at him. “I need dish soap and Brillo Pads and another bag of those jumbo marshmallows.”

Kurt stared for a second, not sure if he should take her seriously. But she just nodded at him, because she understood, and he beamed at her as he pushed up and away from his chair. “Anything else?”

“Milk!” she called, but Kurt was already out the door.

-

Blaine opened the door after the third knock, looking a little confused and rubbing at his forehead. “Uhm-”

Kurt held up a hand, and Blaine snapped his jaw shut. “In the third grade, I fell off the monkey bars at recess and broke my arm. Since then, I’ve been afraid of heights.”

Blaine’s eyebrows rose a bit. “Okay?” He shifted a little on his feet, glanced over his shoulder and back into the house. “Do you want to come in?”

Kurt shook his head. “I want you to show me. Teach me.” Kurt held out a hand to him. “Show me the things I’ve never seen.”

Blaine looked at Kurt’s hand from where it hovered between them, contemplating. And then his hand was slipping into Kurt’s, callused and warm and gripping tight. “Okay,” he said. “No turning back?”

“No turning back.” Kurt tugged on Blaine’s hand until he stepped forward. “Never.”

-

The nearest town was only five miles out. It was old and worn down but overall endearing, and as Blaine parked just on the outskirts, on the cracked pavement of a gas station’s parking lot, Kurt sniffed the air. “What-” He sniffed again, closing the car door carefully after he climbed out. “What’s that smell?”

Blaine came around to stand beside him. “Smells like weed.”

“Wha- weed?”

“Weed, Kurt. We’re practically in the sticks. Of course there’s going to be drugs.”

Kurt stuck his bottom lip out, following Blaine as he moved toward the gas station’s mini-mart. It was almost a pleasant surprise, because despite Kurt’s initial predictions, the inside of the store was clean and bright and not at all horror movie-esque.

There was a woman behind the checkout counter, feet propped up and a Cosmo spread out on her lap. She was snapping her gum when her eyes flickered over to them. And with quick flash of realization across her face, she squealed and clambered overtop the counter.

Blaine caught her when she launched herself into his arms, smiling and laughing and swinging her around.

“Long time no see, babe,” she said when he put her back down, grabbing his cheeks and pulling his face up to hers for a kiss. Kurt blinked, watching the exchange. She was a little bit taller than Blaine and curvy in all the right places, daisy dukes and Converse and no bra underneath her tank top.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, and Kurt realized with a thrum of embarrassment that he had been caught staring.

He thrust his hand out toward her. “Kurt. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Aw, heck,” she slapped his hand away, all playful smiles and shining eyes as she drew him forward for a kiss of his own. He accepted it with wide, shocked eyes, and she pulled back laughing. “Any friend of Blaine’s is a friend of mine. Reese, by the way, like the cup.”

Kurt didn’t exactly know what to say, a floundering, breathless guppy, so he looked over to Blaine for help.

Blaine caught the look, reached out to hook a finger through Kurt’s belt loop so he could tug him closer. “We’re just here to pick up a few things, then we’ll be on our way. Can’t be distracting you from the job.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” Reese looked over to Kurt with a wink. “Don’t let me hold you boys up.”

Blaine slipped a hand around Kurt’s waist, thumb brushing over the curve of his hip as he led him deeper into the store.

“Condoms are in the back!”

Kurt squawked. Blaine laughed. Reese smiled as she situated herself back behind the counter.

← ♥ →

Critiques/comments are always welcome ♥

Halfway to Nowhere (1/?), Kurt/Blaine, PG

2012-03-19T01:27:21Z

Title: Halfway to Nowhere
Author: sailorraspberry
Chapter Rating: PG
Overall Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary: It's not the ideal vacation, but Kurt's willing to accept the excuse to escape the pressing hold of Lima. It's a simple family getaway to the new lake house, except it's everything but.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: AU. Blaine is approximately two years older than Kurt. Eventual drugs, alcohol, and sex.
Author Notes: This is something new, and has gone through a lot of trial runs. So, fingers crossed for good outcomes.

The late summer weather was at its prime, blistering heat and cloudless blue skies as the truck rumbled noisily over the cobblestone road. Kurt’s backseat window was rolled down halfway, letting in a whipping, mussing breeze, and he tapped his foot lazily along with the music playing from the one bud wrapped around the shell of his ear. The latest edition of Vogue sat open on his lap, a few pages sometimes getting caught in the wind and flipping over onto his hand.

“There’re five bedrooms, so there’s plenty of room. And it’s got a boathouse with our very own rowboat. And it’s got the most gorgeous view of the lake. You can see straight through to the other side.” Carole was gushing, face glowing and feet propped up on the dashboard. “Oh, tell them, Burt. Tell them about the-”

“Carole, sweetheart,” Burt winked at Kurt in the review mirror, “why don’t we let the boys discover everything for themselves. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Sorry. I’m such a spoilsport.” She twisted around in her seat, wrapped up tight by her seatbelt, to look at Finn and Kurt. “You two are going to fall in love.”

Kurt smiled at her and spoke for himself and for Finn. “Carole, I’m sure it’s absolutely darling.”

The comment appeased her enough to will her back forward, and Kurt refocused onto his magazine. The vacation was necessary – Finn had just finished up the football camp he had been volunteering at and Congress had just gone on their break, so Burt had an excess amount of free time – but Kurt would much rather spend his time lounging on the couch than lounging with nature.

He hadn’t complained, however, because his dad had just put a down payment on this mysterious house and Carole was so thrilled with the idea of a lakeside getaway that she had slipped Kurt her debit card and requested his wardrobe assistance.

Besides, he figured since Lima was so entertainingly outdated, maybe a little break from his hometown eyesore would do him so good.

“And, one more turn...” Burt flipped on the blinker- which was unnecessary, considering they were the only moving vehicle within a twenty mile radius- and made a shallow turn into a clearing. “We’re here.”

Carol was the first out of the truck, tripping in her sandals across the grass and already laughing while Finn was close on her heels.

Kurt, blinking dazedly after them, tugged the bud off his ear and unhooked his seatbelt. “Dad...”

Burt came around the truck to stand proudly next to his son. “Ain’t it something, kid?”

It was certainly something. The ground faded slowly away into damp dirt until it hit crystal blue water a little farther down, framed by a thousand towering green oaks. The house, wood with tall, sun-stained windows and weatherworn gutters, was nestled gently between a cluster of trees. There was a deck, perched on thick, sturdy stilts, with stairs that dropped off on the far side of the house. Sunbeams leaked through crisscrossed leaves overhead, leaving little golden, dancing lights slanting across the ground.

It was achingly beautiful, and Kurt suddenly understood why Carole had fallen so head over heels for it.

Burt nudged him with an elbow. “Help me with the bags?”

Kurt nodded mutely, shutting the door behind him and heading to the trailer attached to the back of the truck.

-

It was half past five when Carole started dinner and Burt had convinced Finn to help pull the weeds out of the garden. Kurt lifted an eyebrow, sitting up on the island counter in the kitchen, whisking a yellow batter Carole had just handed off to him and watching as they trounced off.

“Have fun,” Kurt said lightly, smirking, and Finn shot a glare over his shoulder before the screen door slammed shut behind them.

Carole grinned at him as she waltzed over to get a cutting board from a cabinet. “Is chicken caesar salad alright for tonight? I figured we go light on the food and maybe make sundaes for desert.”

“As long as you’ve got maraschino cherries, I’m in.” He hopped off the counter, dipping his finger into the batter, tasting. “Cake mix? What for?”

Carole, having already set work to chopping the lettuce, elbowed him lightly in the ribs when he deposited the bowl on the counter beside her. “No touching. And it’s for the neighbors. To say hello. I was thinking some nice, fresh cupcakes.”

Kurt nodded slowly. “That’s really sweet, Carole,” he pulled open the compartment under the stove to get the cupcake pan, “but aren’t we the new folk around here? I think you’ve got the protocol backwards.”

“Eh, well,” she swept the salad into a bowl, “then, we introduce ourselves. Nice and friendly.”

Kurt was the first to laugh, and Carole didn’t hesitate to join in as they stood side by side, comfortable and content in silence.

-

It started with a light, distant tapping sound, nicking through the hazy sheet of sleep that Kurt was wrapped up in. His eyebrows furrowed, unconsciously confused, so he rolled over and buried his head under his pillow.

Sweet, blissful silence.

He sighed, settling back into a hollow cloud of sleep with feet hanging over the end of the mattress.

A hammer, loud and thumping, jerking Kurt into a further state of awake.

He growled, reaching and grappling for the bedside table to get his phone. The room was blanketed in warm honeydew sunlight, and the time was only six-thirty.

A bird sang sweetly outside his open window, balanced on the branch of a tree that reached just into view, ruffling its tiny black wings.

He rolled over onto his back and stretched, mewling a little bit as a joint cracked in his spine.

It was a chainsaw that sent him over the edge, screeching loud and sending the little bird skittering away with an undignified screech.

“Are you serious.” Kurt felt his entire face pulling into a tight, unhappy scowl. He still needed another half hour of beauty sleep, and that was the thought that had him kicking back his sheets.

Kurt stomped down the stairs, sporting nothing but boxer briefs and an oversized baseball tee and the frown he wore so well.

Burt saw him first from where he was relaxed into the new recliner in the room adjacent to the kitchen, lifting an eyebrow at him over his mug of coffee. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Kurt stopped, fists finding the narrow curve of his waist. “Do you have sugar in that?”

Burt’s eyebrow went up again.

“Is Finn up?”

“Not yet,” Burt said carefully, but Kurt was already stomping to the kitchen, where Carole was arranging the cupcakes on a dish.

“Those still for the neighbors?” Kurt asked, and Carole looked up at him, frowning a little when she saw him.

“Why the angry face, kiddo?” She reached over the counter to thumb over his chin, then, registering his question, “Yeah. Just finished up with the icing. I was about to walk them over because-”

“-they’re inconsiderate little jerks who like to wake the world at an ungodly hour of the morning with a chainsaw?” Kurt walked around to the kitchen entrance to get at the coffeepot. “I’ll walk them over, Carole. I’d like to say hello.”

Carole’s face twisted up into a weird half-smile, swallowing down the laughter Kurt could already hear gathering into her throat. “Alright, sweetie. Be nice.”

Kurt harrumphed, drowning his simmering annoyance in fresh Colombian brew.

-

That was how Kurt found himself picking his way through grass and trees and twigs, wearing Finn’s sandals and balancing the tray of treats carefully in two hands. He had been smart enough to retreat back upstairs for a pair of sweatpants, because really, nobody was very intimidating in blue striped boxer briefs.

The neighboring house was easily seen from their deck. It wasn’t that far of a walk, and the helpful sound of chainsaw was providing plenty of guidance.

“Obnoxious,” Kurt muttered, and he broke through into a clearing, very similar to theirs, except maybe the lot was a little bigger, better tamed, shiny and bright. And because he was a little prickled, he stomped across the grass instead of following the path to the unlatched back gate.

“Hello?” He knocked but, knowing it was useless against the ruckus of the chainsaw, let himself through.

Except then, there was barking and freshly cut grass kicking up under big paws as Kurt stumbled backwards and a floppy-eared hound bounded across the yard.

The chainsaw stopped and a name was shouted out with a command- “Lexie! Heel!”

The dog, Lexie, skittered immediately, butt dropping to the ground, but she was still growling, shiny white canines bore.

Kurt stood, frozen, clutching onto the cupcakes and staring wide-eyed down at the dog.

“Sorry about that, ignore her.”

Kurt’s eyes immediately lifted to the voice, rich and thick like honey, and then he stared, jaw snapping shut.

A boy, maybe Kurt’s age, maybe a little older, wiped a towel over his forehead and flung it over his bare shoulder, squinting against the sun and smiling wide. “Her bark's a lot bigger than her bite, don’t worry.”

He was startlingly beautiful, lush in the lips and broad in the shoulders with golden, sun-kissed skin and loose, cropped curls. Cargo shorts riding low and strong, curving calves with dark, curling leg hair.

Startlingly, dazzlingly beautiful, and suddenly Kurt was blushing cherry red.

“Can I help you with something?” He ran a hand through his hair, sweating from his hairline to the hollow of his collarbone and down along his bare chest. “Do you need directions back to the highway?”

Kurt, blinking hard, thrust out his hand and started walking forward. “Uhm, sorry, I’m Kurt Hummel. My dad just bought the house next to yours. We made you cupcakes.”

“Blaine Anderson,” the boy responded carefully, grasping Kurt’s hand in a shake, quick and short. “Shouldn’t we be the ones making you cupcakes?”

Kurt’s laughter stuttered out, awkward and uncomfortable, and he cringed inwardly at the sound of it. “Yeah, yeah, I know. My step-mom’s always wanting to say hello.”

Blaine offered a small, lopsided grin as Kurt pressed the plate into his hands. Then, gold eyes skittering down Kurt’s body, he said, “I didn’t wake you, did I? My dad always sends me up here a couple days early to cut firewood and spruce up the yard.”

“No! No, don’t worry,” Kurt laughed again, a little more natural, and Blaine smiled at him. Kurt’s breath snagged a bit at it, and he couldn’t help when his voice dropped into a whisper. “No worries.”

“Good.” Blaine’s eyes skimmed over him again, calculating. “It was nice meeting you.”

Kurt smiled at him, staring a little, “Yeah.” Then, snapping out of it. “Yeah! Definitely. You too.” Lexie was rolling around in the grass behind Blaine. “See you around, I guess.”

Blaine lifted the cupcake plate a little in farewell, and Kurt turned sharply on his heel.

But Blaine’s voice stopped him.

“If you ever need any help, you know, getting used to the place, I’m always here to help.”

Kurt’s heart skipped a dangerous beat.

Blaine continued. “You know. The trails and the lake and all. It can get a bit twisted up if you don’t pay close attention. So, uh, just let me know.”

Kurt turned back to face him but continued to retreat, slow and careful as he blindly picked his way across the yard. “Uhm. I’ll think about it.” Wincing, quickly correcting, “I mean. I’ll be around, probably. Definitely.”

Blaine gave him a strange look, grin spreading slow, and Kurt hoped he didn’t notice that he hurried out as fast as he could.

← ♥ →

Please feel free to critique/comment and point out any mistakes! ♥

Desperate, KurtxBlaine, R

2011-12-26T18:07:06Z

Title: Desperate
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~500
Summary: They’re desperate, haven’t seen each other for two weeks, and they haven’t acted so frantic since they were just kids.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: Happy belated Christmas! Enjoy some quick Klaine sexy times!

It was like they were seventeen again, bedroom door locked even though the house was empty, movements frantic and eyelids squeezed shut, bodies pressed tightly together over top the comforter, one set of hands held tightly against the mattress by the other above their heads.

It’d been years since they acted this desperate, this out of control, rutting quick and hard through their clothes, mouths locked together, wide and open and trying to do too much at once.

Kurt was stuck beneath Blaine, getting the brute of it all, tongue tangled in his mouth, knees tight against his waist, framing his hips and rocking as best he could. But Blaine was growling and he was moving fast, gone for two long, miserable weeks for a teacher’s conference in Texas and working to catch up for lost time.

And now Kurt was mewling, because Blaine sucked his tongue hard into his mouth, hands moving to twine their fingers together, hips stuttering a bit as he lost his rhythm. And Kurt couldn’t help but mewl again, cock throbbing as the heat thrumming low in his stomach coiled tighter. He gyrated against Blaine, searching for the press and heat of Blaine’s cock against his, but he was climbing fast, and the desperation in his veins seared.

“Missed you so much,” Blaine murmured against his mouth, and drew Kurt’s bottom lip between his teeth to bite. “Thought about you the whole time.”

Kurt tried to reply, he really did, but he was throbbing, aching, and the words came out like a choked sob.

And so Blaine kissed him again, dropped a hand to curve around the bulge in Kurt’s jeans and then pressed, hard and deliberate and Kurt was arching up away from the mattress, twisting his face away from Blaine with a shattered whine. Pink in the cheeks and biting his lip and Blaine bent himself down, mouthed over the line of Kurt’s cock, and suddenly Kurt was coming hard, vision gone white and he moaned, loud and broken and unashamed.

Blaine palmed him through the entire thing, pupils blown wide, and when Kurt forced out Blaine’s name through clenched teeth, Blaine’s hips stuttered forward, and he was gone, too.

It took a couple of minutes for the both of them to finally come down, and when they did, Blaine nuzzled his nose against the junction of Kurt’s neck, body pressed alongside him, warm and familiar. “Missed you so much.”

Kurt was trembling a little when he reached up a hand to card his fingers through Blaine’s hair. “Mm,” then, turning his head a little to glance at Blaine, “you said that already.”

Blaine licked at the bulb of Kurt’s jaw. “Still have to make sure you heard me.”

He laughed, let his eyes slide over to the clock. “Fi’s due back in an hour.”

Blaine nodded, pressed his face into Kurt’s shoulder and sighed. “Remind me to thank Rachel for offering to take her off our hands.”

Kurt smirked. “Already sent her some flowers.”

Beautiful, KurtxBlaine, OC, PG

2011-11-25T22:11:53Z

Title: Beautiful
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~1,500
Summary: What’s-his-face is sweet and funny and cute, and Jenny learns a little bit more about him then just the name, Blaine Anderson.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: Lots of smiling. Also, unbeta’d; all mistakes are mine. That is all.

He was new to the area, not new to New York but still reigning from some small town in Ohio, and apparently a completely nice guy.

His smiles were always big and his pants were always ironed and he was always spotted wandering from the parking lot to the main office sporting a pair of hot pink sunglasses. He definitely seemed nice enough, and he definitely meant well, and she was curious.

She decided to breech the subject that was so very easily him with a few fellow teachers during their mid-morning coffee break.

“So, what’s with the new guy? What’s-his-face.”

That was the hard part about teaching at a high school smack-dab in the middle of New York. The populations were big, and that meant the schools were tailor-made to accompany it. Getting to know names and faces, let alone remember them, was a job all in itself.

Cheryl ripped open a packet of Splenda and dumped it into her mug. “Anderson, I think. Blaine Anderson, lives in the next town over.”

“I talked to him for a bit,” Maggie said casually as she sipped her coffee and lifted an eyebrow at her friends’ astonished gazes. “It wasn’t anything. He was standing in front of me in the line for lunch. Asked if I preferred the ham or turkey sandwich. He has a nice set of teeth. Shiny.”

“I think he teaches history or something. Can you pass the cream, Jenny?”

She nodded absently and passed over the carton. “He’s kind of cute.”

“I haven’t heard anything about a girlfriend.” Maggie tapped her spoon on the lip of her cup. “And he seems clean. Maybe you should go talk to him. I mean, how old are you now, thirty? You can’t be single forever.”

“Twenty-seven,” Jenny spat, and shot her a look.

Jenny found her opportunity to approach him when he was standing in front of the teacher mailboxes, flipping through a stack of envelopes and humming beneath his breath.

She smoothed her hands down her skirt as she made her way up to him, and when she was standing directly behind him, she lifted a hand to tap his shoulder, decided against it, and cleared her throat instead.

He glanced over his shoulder first, eyebrows raised, before he turned around fully to blaze a smile at her. “Hi!”

Jenny smiled back just as brightly. “Hi, you’re new here, right?”

He nodded, tucked the mail underneath his arm and extended the opposite hand forward. “Blaine Anderson. Pleasure.”

Jenny tried to get a clean look at his left ring finger, but the view was distorted. “Jenny Knicks. So, how do you-” and then the warning bell for first period sounded, and she cringed inwardly.

“Oh, bad timing,” Blaine said with a laugh, and Jenny laughed with him. “We could, ah, finish over coffee? I’ve got third period free.”

Jenny’s stomach swooped. “Yeah, yeah,” she couldn’t fight down the blush she felt washing over her face. “Third period’s great.”

“Awesome.” Blaine stepped around her. “See you then.”

She watched him leave, awestruck, staring blankly at where he had just been.

Jenny was late to first period.

Blaine Anderson was very good at hiding his left hand.

For the past ten minutes, he kept it somewhere on his lap, but she had given up on trying to find a possible ring, because he was very, very interesting, and she couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, and she couldn’t stop listening to him because his voice was practically honey, and her mom would be so proud if she brought him home for Thanksgiving.

“-so then, this old lady in one of those motor wheelchairs rushes out onto the crosswalk, and I’ll tell you, my heart stopped.” He pressed his right hand against his chest, and Jenny smiled at him. “I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if I ran over an elderly.”

Jenny snorted, coughed, slapped a hand over her mouth. “You’re funny,” she said, because Blaine was laughing gently at her, and that was the best thing she could come up with. “Must be that Ohio humor.”

He looked like he was about to respond, but then he jumped, hands flying to his pocket. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and started fishing around for what she assumed was his cell phone. “I’ve got to take this.”

And then he stood, accepting the call almost immediately, and that’s when Jenny spotted it.

Her heart dropped.

He was gone maybe two minutes, talking quick and in a murmur, and Jenny was trying not to let her embarrassment and humiliation and overall devastation swallow her in an endless pit of darkness.

Blaine came back with an apologetic smile on his face, muttering, “Sorry,” even before he was seated.

“The wife?” Jenny asked as easily as she could, praying that he couldn’t see right through her otherwise blatantly obvious disappointment.

Blaine just laughed, scratched at the side of his head, and there it was, shiny and silver and sitting snuggly on his left ring finger. “Well, kind of, I guess. It was actually my husband.”

Jenny choked on air.

Blaine blinked at her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, wheezing a little bit. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m sorry.” She swallowed a few times. “I just didn’t know you were... you know...”

“Gay?”

He said it with such ease, and Jenny was starting to feel a little bit guilty about being taken aback by such a prospect.

He just smiled again. “Well, it usually isn’t the first thing people guess about me,” Blaine was playing with his wedding band, and Jenny found herself staring at his hands now, watching as he twisted the ring around and around. “His name’s Kurt, together almost eleven years now. He was calling from the doctor’s office. We just adopted, it was her first check-up.”

Jenny’s eyes snapped back up to his face, and if his tone didn’t give away his excitement, his expression surely did.

He was beaming.

“Congratulations,” she said, and propped her chin against the heel of her palm, shoving aside her distress as hard as she could. “What’s her name?”

Blaine’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Josephine Riley. She’s four months next week. Kurt’s excited because we just put a down payment on a new house, and you know, he likes to decorate and plan and do all the stuff I really prefer not to, so.” He shrugged, still smiling. “She’s wonderful.”

Jenny grinned at him. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Blaine shrugged again and looked down at his lap, sheepish. But, then, as he realized something, his head snapped back up, “I have pictures! I’ll show you pictures!”

And that was how Jenny first saw the Hummel-Anderson family, and it made her embarrassment a little less sour.

She met Kurt Hummel-Anderson and Josephine Riley a month later at the school’s first home football game. She and Blaine had volunteered to work the concession stand, and midway through the second quarter, a man with an infant strapped to his chest came striding into the little kitchen, hand held gently to the back of the child’s head and smile soft as he made his way toward Blaine.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” Kurt said when Blaine spotted him, and Jenny finished selling a student a chilidog before turned to face them completely.

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting you two,” Blaine finished organizing a stack of bills before leaning in to press a quick, happy, comfortable kiss to Kurt’s mouth. “How’s my little pumpkin poo-poo pants?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kurt said with a shrug, and then, when Blaine looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Kurt gave in. “She’s having a little trouble getting to sleep, so I wanted to drive around to see if that’d help, and we decided that we wanted to come see Daddy.”

Blaine’s smirk grew into a grin, and he moved to unbuckle Josephine from the carrier.

Kurt glanced over to Jenny, and after a moment, when he realized Blaine was a little too preoccupied to introduce either of them, he extended a hand. “Kurt Hummel. Are you a coworker of Blaine’s?”

Jenny took Kurt’s hand, and she looked at Blaine as he began rubbing little circles on Josephine’s back, before she answered, “Jenny Knicks. And yeah, I am. He’s great.”

Kurt smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jenny. And yeah,” his expression grew soft as he glanced over to his husband, “I know.”

Jenny took the three of them in, and as Kurt led her over to introduce her to his daughter, as Josephine was passed gently into her arms, she laughed.

Blaine looked at her funny. “What?”

Jenny shrugged, didn’t let her eyes leave Josephine’s. “It’s nothing.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Your family is beautiful.”

Stupidly, MorganxReid, PG-13

2011-11-24T22:33:53Z

Title: Stupidly
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 362
Summary: The team was picking at a box of doughnuts Emily had brought in, and Spencer was talking, and he had accidentally, unintentionally, very, very stupidly let his eyes wander over to Derek.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Written for fanfic50’s prompt, Focus .

It was the morning after their third time, an evening spent unwinding from a long, strenuous day on the job, and really, Spencer hadn’t been expecting it.

The team was picking at a box of doughnuts Emily had brought in, and Spencer was talking—actually, rambling probably, if he recalled their facial expressions correctly—and he had accidentally, unintentionally, very, very stupidly let his eyes wander over to Derek.

And Derek grinned at him, tilted his head, arms crossed lazily over his chest and body resting easily against the edge of his desk.

Spencer stuttered into silence, throat catching, hands frozen mid-motion, and he very, very stupidly forced out an unnecessarily prolonged, “Uhm...”

Heads swung toward him, confused, and he felt his face flush. Derek pulled an innocent face, shrugged a shoulder and asked simply, “What?”

Eyes wide, he let his mind flicker to last night, to Derek’s apartment and to the sex up against the wall and then bent over the kitchen table and then two more times when they finally made it to the bedroom.

And Derek knew what Spencer was thinking, because he was wearing one of the biggest grins Spencer ever had the displeasure of witnessing, and if he said anything, anything-

“What’s the matter, Reid?” Derek asked. “You seem a little...tense.” And Spencer closed his jaw with a snap, turned around so fast he nearly tumbled right over onto his desk.

Everyone stared.

They watched Spencer trip over himself in his pursuit to run away, and Derek waited until the restroom door swung shut behind him before he stood to follow. “I’ll check up on him. He must still be wigged out over yesterday’s case.”

Nobody questioned him—Derek doubted he would care if they did—and he made sure to lock the bathroom door behind him.

He was able to wheedle out a pledge of forgiveness from Spencer, saying between teasing, shallow kisses that he was sorry, he shouldn’t have been a jerk, but really, Reid, honey, he was only having a bit of fun.

It took a bit of effort, two sore kneecaps and fifteen minutes to make it good, but Spencer eventually gave in.

Surprise, MorganxReid, PG-13

2011-11-19T23:58:33Z

Title: Surprise
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG-13 (FRT)
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 337
Summary: He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, dressed in one of Derek’s white blouses...
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Written for fanfic50’s prompt, Gift.

He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, dressed in one of Derek’s white blouses, sleeves too long and buttons done up only halfway. One of the shoulders had slid down, and Spencer went with it, putting on a smile, because the front door had just opened and Clooney’s nails were clambering across the kitchen tile in a mad race to reach him.

He heard Derek’s laugh, a mumbled, exasperated “Get down, you crazy mutt,” and Spencer’s smile grew.

Derek was moving through the living room— there was the sound of keys hitting the coffee table, shoes being kicked into the corner, a jacket thrown over the back of a chair.

And then, confused, “Reid?”

Spencer forced down the smile, licked his lips because Derek was moving down the hallway now, maybe carrying the bottle of wine Spencer had sent him out to get, maybe not, but the doorknob was twisting open, so Spencer rose to his knees.

Derek saw him immediately, and he stopped just as quickly, fingers tight around the neck of the wine bottle.

Spencer licked his lips, offered a small, closed-mouthed smile as he worked his shoulder further out of the shirt. “So,” he watched Derek’s eyes dilate, “surprise.”

Derek stared at him for another minute, taking him in, before his mind started up again, and he smiled back. “Yeah, surprise,” he moved forward carefully, and Spencer met him at the edge of the bed, winding thin arms around Derek’s neck to drag his mouth along the stubble of his jaw. Derek laughed, and the sound vibrated through his chest.

He evaded an oncoming kiss to nuzzle his nose into Spencer’s neck and drop the wine somewhere on the floor, to grab Spencer around the waist and tip him backwards, guide him down until his back hit the mattress. Spencer laughed, wrapped long legs tight around Derek’s narrow waist, mouth searching for and finding Derek’s again. Derek smiled into the kiss, working the rest of the shirt’s buttons open. “Happy anniversary.”

Mistake, KurtxBlaine, PG

2011-11-06T18:19:01Z

Title: Mistake
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 337
Summary: #223: I knew it was a mistake the second it was over.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: Prompt taken from staringout and filled in 500 words or less.

I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over.

“They. Don’t. Fit.” Kurt gritted out through clenched teeth, stretched over the bed as he tried to button close a pair of jeans. “What. The. Hell.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said from somewhere in their closet. “Aren’t those like, two years old? A lot changes in a year.”

Kurt sat up, button still undone, and glared at Blaine’s back. “I bought them a year ago. And they’re my favorite jeans.”

He saw Blaine still, one hand paused in the middle of shifting through a row of hangers. A beat of silence.

“Oh.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yeah. Oh.”

Blaine continued looking through his clothes. Kurt saw him shrug. “It’s probably just from all those cookies you ate last week.”

And then Blaine froze, because he did not just say that. Those words didn’t really just come out of his mouth.

He turned around slowly. “I still love you, though, Kurt. And you are still my smoking hot, sexy husband, year-old jeans be damned.”

Kurt, jaw clenched, didn’t let his glare waver.

Blaine swallowed. “Did I mention that I love you? And that you’re sexy?”

Kurt threw the jeans as hard as he could at Blaine’s face. “Kiss my ass, Blaine Anderson.”

And he stomped out of the bedroom.

Blaine rolled over, tangled up in a blanket and sinking in between the cushions of the couch. He looked over at the digital clock on the cable box. 1:34.

He sighed heavily, tried to move into a more comfortable position.

He sat up. Looked in the direction of his bedroom.

Maybe if he begged hard enough.

Blaine sighed, cracked a few knuckles before he stood.

Tomorrow, MorganxReid, PG

2011-11-05T12:28:47Z

Title: Tomorrow
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG (FRT)
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 339
Summary: Their first kiss was stolen in the middle of the parking garage.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Written for fanfic50’s prompt, Echo. Also, this is my first fic for the fandom, so... fingers crossed!

Their first kiss was stolen in the middle of the parking garage, an hour back from a particularly tough case and another hour into paperwork, but apparently they both had decided to throw the towel in early, because they were alone, the echo of footsteps and heartbeats their only company.

It was a beat of silence, of eyes scoping from foot to head, and then their eyes caught from across rows of cars, intense and dark and nervous as hell. And they met each other halfway, hands grappling for each other through the slant of dusky, yellow overhead lights as they hauled their bodies together. Mouths opening, tongues sliding, fingers curling around cheekbones and the backs of necks.

They pulled apart as quickly as they had come together, panting hard from recycled adrenaline and pounding heartbeats and itching fingers.

There were footsteps somewhere behind them, and they pushed away from each other, wide-eyed and rooted to the spot.

Emily strolled past them, twirling her car keys around an index finger. She glanced at them, lifted an eyebrow. “See you two tomorrow.”

Derek was the first to nod, but Spencer was still staring at him, mouth flapping like a guppy, and maybe Prentiss gave them a funny look, but Derek couldn’t tell because his mind was just a tad bit fuzzy.

Derek could tell, however, when Spencer’s brain started back up, because a bright flush crept up his neck and he scratched at it, scuffing at the ground with his toe. “Uhm.”

Derek licked his lips. Emily honked as she drove away.

Spencer pulled at a loose thread on his sweater.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Derek whispered, and Spencer stared at him with big, brown eyes, and butterflies started to flutter in Derek’s stomach.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Spencer nodded, tucked his hands away into the pockets of his pants. “Tomorrow is good.”

They stared at each other for another pulsing, quiet moment, before they turned sharply on their heels to amble away, trying not to trip over their own two feet.

Prompt Table

Morgan/Reid Prompt Table

2011-10-30T20:46:47Z

for fanfic50

001.	Focus	002.	Room	003.	Sink	004.	Story	005.	Pool
006.	Hook	007.	Maze	008.	Bold	009.	Crush	010.	Heal
011.	Branch	012.	Reign	013.	Echo	014.	Shadow	015.	Dusk
016.	Dawn	017.	Plain	018.	File	019.	Charm	020.	Plan
021.	Blink	022.	Grin	023.	Spoon	024.	Panic	025.	Snow
026.	Patrol	027.	Opportunity	028.	Vertical	029.	Horizon	030.	Replace
031.	Fool	032.	Intervention	033.	Gift	034.	Restless	035.	Weight of the World
036.	Wild	037.	Harsh	038.	Initiative	039.	Pang(s)	040.	Primal
041.	Bribery	042.	Theft	043.	Impatience	044.	Pray	045.	Merchandise
046.	Survivor	047.	Captured	048.	Uncivilized	049.	Poke	050.	Writers' Choice

Distracting, KurtxBlaine, PG-13

2011-10-28T19:29:58Z

Title: Distracting
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 419
Summary: #674: I didn’t tell you because I knew this is exactly how you’d react.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: Prompt taken from staringout and filled in 500 words or less. Un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

I didn’t tell you because I knew this is exactly how you’d react.

“How could you not tell me?” Blaine asked, crossed-legged on the mattress and magazine open on his lap. “Fi not telling me, I understand. But you? You, of all people.”

Kurt was slipping into his nightshirt, and when he had it on, he dropped his hands onto the flare of his hips. “Blaine.”

Blaine frowned at him, flicked close the magazine. “Am I the only one who didn’t know she was dating someone?”

Kurt sighed, lowered his arms and moved to crawl onto the bed. “Rachel didn’t know,” he said as he flopped against the pillows. Blaine looked down at him, and Kurt drew his leg up to nudge at him until he flopped back, too. “She’s horrible at keeping secrets, you know.”

Blaine frowned when Kurt brushed his lips across the corner of his mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would react like this,” Kurt mumbled, sliding his mouth down Blaine’s jaw to the lobe of his ear. “I knew you’d get all prickly and tense. Prickly, mostly.” Kurt lifted a hand and dragged his fingertips down Blaine’s stubbly cheek. “Not much I can do with a prickly husband.”

“You’re distracting from the subject,” Blaine said as Kurt’s hand wandered across the line of his hip to his thigh, and then he spread his fingers out, palmed at his ass while he sucked a mark into the crook of Blaine’s shoulder.

“Not distracting,” Kurt justified with a smile. “Avoiding would be a more appropriate term, I think.”

“Oh really.” Blaine scrunched his eyebrows together as Kurt rolled him onto his back, knees cradling his hips and hands pressed against the mattress on either side of his head. “I don’t want to avoid the subject.”

Kurt’s nightshirt was riding up on his thighs, and Blaine involuntarily moved his hands to grip the pale, smooth skin.

“Too bad, because I want to avoid the subject,” Kurt said, and as he bent forward to trace the contour of Blaine’s mouth with the tip of his tongue, he whispered easily, “Josephine invited Michael over to dinner this Friday. I told her you’d make your famous stir fry.”

Blaine struggled to sit up, but when he did, he fumbled around for words, jaw working for some type of protest, but Kurt just laughed, rich and genuine and maybe a little malicious. He wrapped a palm around the back of Blaine’s neck, eyes shining, and he drew him in a kiss that was long and open, and very, very distracting.

Fish Face, KurtxBlaine, OC, G

2011-10-23T13:33:26Z

Title: Fish Face
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 447
Summary: #19: Write about two people stuck somewhere because of the weather.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Future!fic, set in the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: I have like five stories I’ve started and am nowhere near finishing, and I want nothing more than to simply write, and then I stumbled across staringout. Basically, I'm picking out a random prompt, and filling it in 500 words or less. Also, this is un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine, so feel free to point them out.

Write about two people stuck somewhere because of the weather.

Blaine bounced Josephine up and down on his knee while Kurt paced in front of them, lips pulled into a tight frown and eyebrows creased.

“It’s only a two hour delay,” Blaine offered, pressing his nose into the back of Josephine’s blonde head. “I’m sure Burt will understand.”

Kurt cast him a sidelong glance, phone still pressed to his ear, and turned sharply on his heel to stomp over toward the windows.

Blaine sighed, watching Kurt as he leaned a shoulder against the glass and stared out onto the dark runway, eyeing the stilled, empty planes and the round, white, freefalling snowflakes visible only behind the broad yellow beams of the lamps outside.

“Hey, Fi,” Blaine whispered into his daughter’s ear, and she perked immediately, letting herself fall back against Blaine’s chest. He laughed, lifted her up and off his knee to set her down on the floor.

Blaine ruffled her hair, said, “Go make Daddy feel better,” and he patted her tush to get her going.

Josephine clambered up to Kurt, Maryjane’s clacking against the tile and hair swinging, and when she was close enough, came to a jumping stop, placing tiny balled up fists on narrow, petite two-year-old hips. “Daddy.”

Kurt looked down at her, eyebrows raised at her as she tried to tap her foot against the floor, but it really just looked like she was stomping on a bug. He tucked his phone into his pocket. “Yes, Josephine?”

She lifted a haughty chin, and, dear lord, if she wasn’t his child, he wouldn’t quite know what to do with her.

“Come here.” She waved at him to lower himself, so he did, dropped into a squat to make himself as close to her eyelevel as he could.

She stared into his face, a long and hard and narrow gaze, and she had the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen.

Josephine then pressed her palms against his cheeks, squished until his lips were puckered out, and she sucked her cheeks in to make a fish face at him, crossed her eyes, and mashed her face against his.

Kurt’s laugh came sputtering out of him before she could pull back, and her smile was so wide when she turned to look at Blaine that Kurt couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Hey, Dad!” She jumped up and waved wildly at him. “I made Daddy feel better!”

Blaine waved back and grinned, first at Josephine and then at Kurt, and offered two thumbs up.

When Kurt stood, he hefted Josephine up with him, and as he headed back to Blaine, he figured that maybe Christmas Eve spent in an airport wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

This Sweet Little Thing, KurtxBlaine, FinnxRachel, PG

2011-08-20T13:57:29Z

Title: This Sweet Little Thing
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, minor Finn/Rachel
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary: Kurt and Blaine want nothing more than to get their daughter, Josephine, into the best pre-school in the city. Somehow, though, they end up sharing the story about just how Josephine came into their lives.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Very minor OCs. Future!fic; this is what started the Sweet Little Thing 'verse.
Author Notes: I needed daddy!Klaine in my life so, so bad, and this is my take on it. Note that Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Finn are thirty, and in the flashback, they’re twenty-six.

Blaine looked over at him from the corner of his eye, and then did it again with a furrowed brow. “Are... Are you nervous?”

Kurt’s laugh came out as a heavy sigh, and he patted Blaine’s hand when he slithered it onto his knee. “Even after all these years, you still know exactly what to say.” And when Blaine pouted a bit, he laughed again, shoved his hand away and beamed a smile. “How does my hair look?”

Blaine tilted his head, lifted an eyebrow at his husband and examined the wisp of hair that fell down across his temple.

“It looks good,” he decided finally, and he leaned across their touching plastic armrests to kiss the bulb of his jaw. “Now stop being nervous.”

Kurt nodded and waved a fluttering hand at him. “Stopping now.”

The two of them were sitting comfortably in a hallway at one of the city’s pre-school programs, surrounded by finger paint paintings and macaroni art. There were three other couples occupying the other seats, all charming and prim and proper, the ladies with pressed pencil skirts and their husbands all with Bluetooth’s attached to their ears.

And then Kurt had his husband, with his black-rimmed glasses and his gelled down hair. His white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tan khakis that Kurt though he had given to the Goodwill.

He puffed out his cheeks and glanced around again at the other couples before glancing back to the man beside him. “Maybe we should just wait another year.” He chewed on his bottom lip, and even though he felt six other curious sets of eyes swing over to him, he kept his own trained onto Blaine. “Maybe she isn’t ready.”

Blaine tilted his head a little, lips pursed as he contemplated the allegation. “Kurt, Josephine practically begged for us to come today.”

“Well, I know that.” Kurt smoothed down a thin wrinkle in his shirt. “But, you know, she’s only four. She begs for us to make tater tots for dinner every night.” He held up a finger when Blaine opened his mouth. “No. I didn’t approve of tots in high school, and I most certainly do not approve of them now.”

The classroom door swung open, and through the archway the previous couple appeared, and then the teacher poked her head out, braid tumbling over her shoulder and owlish eyes peering at them through fringed bangs. “And, let me see,” she looked down at the clipboard in her hand, “shall we bring in Mr. Hummel and,” she glanced down again, and looked back up with a pleasant smile, “Mr. Anderson, please?”

Blaine stood before Kurt did, turned and reached out his hand. “Ready?”

Kurt grasped onto his fingers, charmed.

Kurt was able to hold himself together long enough the make it through the doorway, but when the door swung shut behind them, his mouth fell open and words started to spew out. “She really is a smart girl, you know. Her first word was toothpaste. So, that just goes to show that she has excellent dental hygiene. And she loves baths. She named her rubber ducky Abbey Road, as a tribute to the Beatles. And she loves the Beatles, so her taste in music is impeccable. And, trust me, she is just the sweetest little thing you’d ever meet.”

The teacher glanced over her shoulder at them with a laugh and motioned for them to sit down in the chairs by her desk. “Now, don’t you worry, Mr....”

“Hummel,” he breathed as he glided into the chair, crossing his legs and leaning forward. He shielded one side of his mouth and whispered, “Sorry. I’m a bit nervous.”

Blaine snorted. “A bit?”

Kurt sent him an iced glare and a mouthed ‘shut up.’

“Then you must be Mr. Anderson. Perfect.” She set down her clipboard and clicked open a pen. “I’m Ms. Byrd. This will be my third year as a part of this pre-school program. I graduated from NYU, and I’m twenty seven years old.” She beamed at them. “Now, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, some about your daughter, and a few about the two of you. And then, we can wrap up the session with questions that you might have. Sound good?”

Kurt’s smile was so tight, he might as well not have been smiling at all.

Ms. Byrd didn’t seem to notice. “To start, your daughter’s name is Josephine Riley. What last name will she be taking?”

“Anderson,” Blaine lent forward to adjust himself in his seat and then crossed his legs carefully. “The bills are in my name, so we agreed...”

Kurt nodded his affirmation.

Ms. Byrd wrote something down before looking up at them with a smile. “Does she prefer Josephine, or does she have a nickname?”

“Fi Fi,” Kurt said.

“Cute,” Ms. Byrd scribbled down the name. “And how did she become a part of your family?”

Kurt’s face cracked into a genuine smile. “It’s actually quite an interesting story.”

Blaine shook his head to confirm this. “Kurt loves telling it.”

Ms. Byrd’s eyes were slightly widened as she passed a look between the two of them.

“Well, it was a lovely, October afternoon...”

“The designs came back hellish,” Kurt said around the lip of his bottle of iced tea. “I swear, this is the last time I take on an intern. Of course, she tries... But still. It’s migraine-inducing.”

Blaine sat across from him in the high school courtyard, studying Kurt carefully as he poked the prongs of his fork lazily into his salad. “She means well, I’m sure.”

Kurt licked across his front teeth with a sour smile. “They all mean well. And, let’s be honest, that’s what makes the catastrophes that much worse. Why did you let me start a career in the magazine industry, which, you know, is practically half of the fashion industry itself, because honestly, Vogue shows no mercy, when it was so blatantly obvious that I would be surrounded by idiots on a daily basis?”

Blaine offered a shrug and chanced a glance at Kurt’s chicken wrap. “...Are you...”

His pushed his plate toward Blaine. “So, enough about my tragic life. How were classes so far today?”

The way Blaine’s face distorted into a frown was enough of an explanation.

Kurt offered a sympathetic grin. “Not good?”

“I gave back their papers from last week. I’ve never seen so many angry glares sent my way before.”

Kurt reached across the table to pat his hand gently. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure by this time next week, all will be forgiven and they’ll go back to admiring your butt as you write their homework on the chalkboard.”

Blaine sighed and bit off a piece of Kurt’s wrap, then mumbled around the mouthful, “They don’t like my butt.”

Kurt sent him a knowing look, eyebrow arched. “Do I need to dig through the paper shredder and retrieve all those love letters or...”

And just as Blaine’s face was turning red and Kurt was beginning to laugh, Kurt’s cell phone went off. He was still smiling when he accepted the call. “Hey, Finn, what’s up?”

Blaine went back to munching on Kurt’s lunch, only half listening as he reached over for Kurt’s iced tea as well.

But then, Kurt’s face paled.

“She what? Now? But it’s two weeks early. Are you sure? Are you positive?”

And Blaine sat up a little straighter, heard the faint sound of Finn’s voice. “Of course I’m sure, dude! She’s like yelling at me a lot and...” But he couldn’t make out the rest because it sounded as if it came out in a garbled mess of words, so he just went off Kurt’s expression and assumed that something had happened.

Kurt cut the call and nearly fell over backwards in his pursuit to stand.

Blaine munched loudly on the wrap and stared at Kurt with wide eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s Rachel,” he said as he scrambled for his bag. “She just went into labor.”

Kurt bobbed the leg that was crossed overtop his knee up and down, chin poised against his fingertips as he stared blindly at the local news channel that played soundlessly on the television on the wall.

There was a cover story on some kind of nasty storm that had just ripped through the Midwest, but he found himself uninterested, because Blaine had disappeared to do the five-minute check-up, and would probably be back in a minute with some news about how Rachel told Finn she wanted a divorce and Finn had taken a glance at her lady parts and nearly passed out on the floor.

“Wait, hold on a minute,” Ms. Byrd interceded quickly, lifting a hand in inquiry. “Who are Rachel and Finn?”

Blaine shifted in his seat. “Finn is Kurt’s step brother, and Rachel is Finn’s wife.”

Ms. Byrd nodded slowly before motioning for Kurt to continue.

Kurt’s eyes tried to refocus on the television, but then his skin started to prickle with the sensation of being stared at.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he slanted his head to the side.

A girl- she couldn’t have been more than sixteen- stood near the other end of the waiting room, arms wrapped tight around herself, stomach plainly obtuse from where it hid behind a nappy gray cardigan, face sunken in, eyes tired and dull.

Kurt casually let his eyes slip toward the receptionist’s desk, but the nurse had turned away from the window and was busy digging through a filing cabinet.

The girl was still standing there, shifting awkwardly from side to side in her torn up Converse, hair held back in a ratty bun. She looked ill, and Kurt’s heart kind of clenched as he took her in.

“Uhm.” He offered a tight-lipped smile. “Hello.”

He saw her fingers clench around her waist.

His eyes widened. “Are...you alright?”

Her face was expressionless for a beating moment, but then her chin quivered, and the quiver traveled up to the corners of her lips, before her entire façade crumbled, and her chin dropped to hit her chest and then she was shaking, shoulders trembling as she sniffled noisily.

Kurt was hesitant to stand, but the mystery girl was nearly sobbing now, and he clenched his jaw, softened his eyes even though she wasn’t even looking at him. “Do you need to talk?” he asked gently, and then she lifted her eyes to meet his, and tears were painting her cheeks.

“No,” she whispered, knees knocking together, and she caught herself as she swayed, hand anchoring to the doorjamb. “It just hurts. It hurts so bad,” and then she doubled over with a yelp, and Kurt was at her side before he even knew what he was doing.

The girl came around about a half an hour later, after an iv drip was hooked up to her arm, her cardigan had been changed out for a hospital gown and her pockets had been searched for some sort of identification.

Kurt stood awkwardly by the door, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and when her eyes looked frantically around the room before finally settling on him, he grinned. “Gave me quite a scare there.”

She licked her lips slowly, fingers clenching and unclenching around the sheets. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“What’s your name?” Kurt asked, and he saw her jaw clench. He tapped his fingers along his forearm. “Well, everybody has a name.”

Her hand slid up the side of her stomach until it rested just at the top of the curve. “Chloe.”

“And, if you don’t mind me asking, Chloe, what’s your story?”

She sucked her teeth between her cheeks, stared at the ceiling for a long while.

“Well, everybody has a story, too,” he teased, and her eyes flickered back over to him.

Rachel’s face was pale and glistening with sweat, knees bent and head resting back against the three pillows that were keeping her propped up. She immediately reached for his hand, and when Kurt waved Finn off and mumbled for him to go fetch himself a cup of gelatin from the cafeteria, Finn looked down at Rachel nervously, searching for confirmation.

“Go on, Finn,” she said. “And take Blaine with you.”

Kurt waited until the door closed behind him to speak. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he drew up a chair to the side of her bed.

“Well,” she began, and he couldn’t resist the rolling of his eyes, because even after more than ten years of knowing her, her mannerisms were still the same, “besides the fact that I’ve been in this bed for more than two hours, Finn doesn’t want me to get the epidural, and my dads won’t be here when I give birth to my first child, I’m just peachy,” she flashed him her signature smile, and he smoothed back a few straying pieces of her hair. “So,” she said, “what’s up with you?”

He pursed his lips. “Well...”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “You have something juicy to tell me, don’t you?”

Kurt passed his thumb over her knuckles, and she leaned as far forward as she could. The words seemed to tumble out of him with that. “There’s a girl, and she’s here by herself, and she’s pregnant, and she’s probably going to go into labor at any minute.” He clicked his teeth together. “And, she told me she doesn’t want to keep the baby.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “Where’s she from?”

“Saten Island.”

“And what’s she doing all the way in Manhattan?”

Kurt tilted his head a bit, and this time Rachel rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. “Her parents kicked her out when they found out she was pregnant. She’s been living in a shelter ever since, and the nurse said there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the baby. It’s a girl.” And he couldn’t help the way he bounced a little in excitement, face cracking into a smile.

Rachel grinned at him, eyes following him as he bounced around in his seat. “Have you even talked to Blaine about this?”

She watched as his happiness deflated. “A little bit.”

Rachel cast him a glance.

Kurt pouted. “Like once. And it was post-coital, and Blaine gets really mushy and sentimental when he’s post-coital, so he probably doesn’t even remember having the conversation.”

She squeezed his hand, caught his eye. “You know, our children could potentially share the same birthday.”

He knew Rachel was his best friend for a reason.

Blaine was sitting in the waiting room, phone pressed to his ear, when Kurt finally made it back there. “What do you mean I was supposed to host after school detention today?”

There was mumbling at the other end of the conversation.

“Well, you’re just going to have to deal with that. No, I will not come back. You can handle one hour with those kids.” Blaine looked over at Kurt and rolled his eyes. “Why? Why am I at the hospital anyway? Because my step-sister-in-law is in labor, that’s why.”

More mumbling, and Blaine grunted something before ending the conversation.

“Blaine.”

He looked up at Kurt, then patted the seat beside him. “Kurt.”

Kurt slid down into the chair, grasped Blaine’s hand. “I have a proposition for you.”

Blaine lifted an eyebrow at him. “Well, this can’t be good.”

Kurt batted at him with a hand. “Just, listen, okay?”

He nodded slowly, “Alright.”

Kurt reached down to grab Blaine’s hand. “Blaine Warbler Hummel Anderson.” And when Blaine chuckled, he tightened his grip. “I want us to start a family.

Blaine’s laughter died off until he was simply staring at his husband. “...What?”

“Just... Don’t freak out yet. You see, there’s this girl who doesn’t want to keep her baby. And just imagine us as a family, Blaine. We can buy a house on the outskirts of Manhattan, in the same neighborhood as Finn and Rachel, because there’s a whole bunch of new homes over there, and we can buy her all these wonderful clothes and decorate her room and set up a swing set in the backyard. And we can have a swimming pool built. We can be a family.”

Blaine continued to stare at him, fingers still curled around Kurt’s, but then, a nurse burst into the room, mask pulled up over her face and plastic gloves pulled over her hands. “Mr. Hummel? Chloe is asking for you. She’s eight centimeters.”

Kurt looked back over to Blaine, and Blaine’s eyes widened. “Is that the girl...”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine blinked a few times, and then his fingers tightened, and Kurt’s heart soared. Blaine grabbed Kurt by the cheeks, kissed him until both of them were breathless. “I’m coming with you,” he whispered against his lips, and then as Kurt began to stand, Blaine dragged him back down and kissed him harder. “I love you.”

Kurt didn’t hesitate in his response, “I love you, too.”

“We got lucky,” Kurt said. “Rachel didn’t have her daughter until five that night. So, Josephine was born at three in the afternoon, and Finn and Rachel’s girl, Sophie, was two hours later. We got to be there for both births.”

Ms. Byrd’s smile nearly split her face in half. “That’s such a lovely story.” She glanced down to finish scribbling a note, and then looked over at her wristwatch. “I think that’s enough for right now.” She stood, offered her hand out to both of them. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Kurt couldn’t help his nervous smile, but Ms. Byrd winked at him, and his smile broke into laughter.

It was a few days later, the Hummel-Anderson’s were across the street at the Hudson’s for their weekly Friday night dinner, and the four of them had gathered in the kitchen to chat over freshly uncorked wine and beers- or, in Rachel’s case, sparkling apple juice, because her stomach was starting to curve outward a bit, and she had a nudging feeling that it was a boy- as Sophie and Josephine amused themselves noisily in Sophie’s play room down the hall.

“I kid you not,” Rachel said as she swirled her juice around in her glass, “Sophie stomped into our bedroom at seven o’clock this morning and demanded that we take her over to your house, because apparently, a certain someone with curly black hair makes pancakes on Friday mornings?”

Blaine had the audacity to look sheepish. “It’s actually not every Friday. It was just that one time she slept over.”

Finn took a long swig of beer. “It’s alright, dude. Whenever Fi sleeps over, we just feed her leftovers.”

Kurt sent Finn such a hard glare, Finn flinched. “Chill, man. It was just a joke...”

Kurt was working at a retort when Blaine’s cell phone went off in his back pocket. He looked at the caller identification, turned up wide eyes to stare at the three of them. “It’s Ms. Byrd.”

Rachel downed the rest of her juice, deposited the glass onto the counter, and held out her hand. “Let me answer it.”

“No,” Kurt hip checked her out of the way. “I’ll answer it.”

Finn sipped his beer anxiously.

“No,” Blaine interrupted. “We’ll all answer it. “And he hit the speaker button. “Hello?”

Kurt slapped a hand over his own mouth and clawed his nails into Rachel’s arm with the other. She hissed in response, teeth clenched. “That hurts, Kurt Hummel!”

“Can it, Berry,” he hissed back, and Blaine walked calmly around to the other side of the kitchen.

“Why, hello, Ms. Byrd. It’s wonderful to hear your voice again.”

Ms. Byrd laughed. “Mr. Anderson, I come bearing good news.”

Kurt held his breath.

“I’d like to set up a formal meeting with your daughter, Josephine, see how she reacts in a classroom environment, and then come September, she can officially call herself a part of our program.”

“Thank you so very much, Ms. Byrd,” Blaine said, and Kurt had to bite his knuckle to keep from squealing.

As soon as the call ended, Kurt grabbed Rachel’s face, kissed her square on the mouth, moved to Finn, and, with a mumbled, “Oh, why not,” kissed him on the mouth as well.

And when he came full circle to Blaine, he kissed him so hard, Blaine stumbled back into the refrigerator, but the both of them just ended up laughing, hugging each other tightly, but then Rachel probably started to feel left out, because she joined them in the hug, and then Finn finished off the rest of his beer and engulfed them in his arms, too.

Ignorance is Your New Best Friend, KurtxBlaine, OC, R

2011-07-04T16:55:36Z

Title: Ignorance is Your New Best Friend
Author: sailorraspberry
Rating: R (blatant homophobia, cursing, one voyeuristic bj scene)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~4,700
Summary: Cameron just wants to fit in. Wants to make sure he's in with the right people. But, what he doesn't know is that maybe being with the right people can make you do all the wrong things.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Homophobic characters, OCs
Author Notes: I wrote this because I'm frustrated with people. I know so many people who are ignorant about the subject of homosexuality, and frankly, it's tiring me out. I firmly believe that homophobia is born out of ignorance, and this is my way of getting the frustration out. Also, the fic title came from a lyric in Paramore's Ignorance.

There were certain perks about attending a private school. There was an extensive amount of school holidays, an earlier start to summer vacation, uniforms that let him never worry about picking out an outfit in the morning.

There were some downsides, too, though. The distance, the annoyingly advanced curriculum, the tuition that he knew kept his parents up at night even though they claimed there were no problems with sending him there. He had asked them if they’d rather him to go a public school. But they only smiled, told him he was being ridiculous, and turned back to their steamed baby carrots and chicken breast.

He had a year until high school, until he was in the big leagues, until his future would finally begin to mold itself. So, he busied himself with making connections, trying to fit into the right skin when he wasn’t trying to finish his algebra homework, and that idea always had him leaning a little in the middle of science class, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, “Hey, you want to come back to my house after school?”

And the friend, whoever he had decided to talk to, would always say yes, because his mom had good snacks and his dad always had a game on the television, and he had an older sister in her sophomore year of college that had recently discovered the use of a pushup bra.

It was three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and Cameron pushed open the front door, toed his sneakers and tossed his blazer over the back of the couch. “Mom! I’ve got some friends over, okay?”

He glanced over his shoulder and held up a finger before he disappeared into the kitchen, where he found his mother bent over a notebook, reading glasses balanced on her nose, and she glanced up at him with a small smile. “No problem, honey. There’re snacks in the cabinet. But, uhm,” she flinched when there was a shout from the other room, “can you take it outside? I’ve got a lot to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” he pulled open the pantry to pile bags of junk into his arms, sodas and chips and cookies, and then kicked it closed as he turned away.

“Cameron.”

He made a face. “Sorry, mom.”

They all settled themselves onto the front porch, tossing out cans of root beer and tugging open a bag of chips.

“What the hell did you get on Karpinski’s test?” Jeremy asked around a mouthful of barbeque chips, spewing little chewed bits across the stoop as he chewed. “I swear to God, she hates me. I got a fifty two. And I studied for, like, an hour.”

“Who gives a flying cat shit,” Alex elbowed Josh for the box of cookies. “And who studies? Nobody studies anymore.”

Cameron glanced around at them and decided that it probably wasn’t the brightest idea to say that he studied for two hours and got a ninety seven.

“Yo, yo, check that out.” Josh jutted his chin toward the house on the other side of the street, and Cameron had to lean to the side to see around Alex.

He squinted a little, confused, because it was just a house. The... who were they? He couldn’t remember, but his dad always went to the man’s auto shop to get his tires rotated. The mom was nice and always said hello when he was in the front yard and she was leaving for the supermarket. And her son, Finn; he was a junior and played football and was always coming home with some brown-haired girl who was hot but talked really loud. He was a cool guy, and he had a brother. But Cameron never really paid much attention to that aspect.

“Who are they?” Jeremy asked, and Josh shushed him.

“Do you have to me so loud? Christ.”

Cameron’s eyes swept across the lawn, searching for something out of the ordinary, then up the steps of the porch, and then to the swing.

Oh.

The Hudson-Hummel’s. That was the family.

One of the two kids was sitting on the swing with someone, legs brought up to his chest and tilted to the side, one elbow leaned against his knee and the other hand sweeping carefully through the other person’s hair.

“Jesus Christ,” Alex said with a roll of the eyes. And Cameron felt his face beginning to burn, because the kid- Kurt was his name, and he nearly snapped his fingers at the sudden realization- smiled and leaned forward, and the boy next to him met him halfway.

The kiss was lazy, probably something meant for privacy and not to be seen, and the kid caught Kurt’s bottom lip between his teeth, lifting a hand to anchor against his jaw, and Josh gagged.

“Fucking faggots.”

“Alex,” Cameron hissed, eyes growing wide and face burning brighter. His eyes flicked back over to Kurt, and his stomach dropped, “They heard you!”

Kurt’s eyes were narrowed and sharp, piercing over at them as he stood carefully, wiping a thumb over his lip. Cameron wasn’t sure if they made any sort of eye connection, but he glanced away anyway, and when he finally willed himself to look back, they had disappeared into the house.

Over dinner that night, his father looked over at him, chewing carefully on a piece of broccoli. “What’s got you so quiet?”

Cameron felt his cheeks blaze pink. “Nothing,” he choked out, “just have this big algebra thing tomorrow.”

By the time Friday rolled around, Alex popped up beside him, leaning a shoulder against the row of lockers. “I was wondering,” he said with a smirk, “if you would mind if me, Jeremy, and Josh spent the night at your place?”

Cameron stuffed a couple of notebooks into his backpack. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “You can probably come over after school. My mom’ll be home.”

“Cool.” Alex smiled, and Cameron almost did a double take, because he wasn’t sure if there was a strange tweak in his lips. But Alex was already gone, pressing through the crowd of people.

He zipped his bag slowly, staring blankly into the hole of his locker, but when Josh ran up and screamed like a monkey into his ear, he snapped from the reverie and slammed the door closed to chase after him.

The clock had just ticked past ten-thirty, Jeremy was beginning to wrestle with his rolled-up sleeping bag, and infomercials were beginning to play on the sports channel when a car rolled up to the curb in front of the Hudson-Hummel’s house across the street.

Alex twisted around in the recliner to stare out the window.

The overhead lights were on in the car, and from his spot on the floor, Cameron could see Alex’s lips twist into a wicked smirk.

“Hey guys, come check out the queers.” Alex reached over to flick off the lamp to get rid of the glare in the glass, and Josh and Jeremy jumped to their feet.

Cameron stood slowly, reluctantly, patting his thighs as he took a hesitant step forward. “Guys, I don’t think-”

“Dude, shut up,” Alex twisted around to look at him. “I’m like a professional lip-reader, so let me concentrate.”

Cameron bit back a groan, rocking back onto his heels before making his way to the window.

“What’re they saying?” Jeremy whispered, and they all focused intently on Kurt.

“I had a fun time tonight, Blaine.” Alex said, squinting hard. “I guess Blaine is his fag friend.”

“He is,” Cameron whispered. He had overheard Kurt that morning talking to Finn about him when he went out to get the newspaper. “He goes to Dalton.”

“Dalton? So he’s a fag and goes to an all-boy’s school,” Jeremy touched knuckles with Josh, and Cameron glanced over at them.

“It’s actually a really nice school and-”

“I’m glad,” Alex continued easily. “The ice skating wasn’t too much?” He snorted. “Who the fuck goes ice skating?”

That had the rest of them reeling into laughing.

Alex refocused. “It wasn’t too much, I promise. I’m still wondering how you convinced them to let us sing on the ice. It added a very nice touch to the evening.”

“Oh God, gross.” Jeremy feigned barfing onto the carpet. “What are they doing?”

Cameron’s eyes grew wide, and he felt like he was intruding again, watching something too personal, too intimate. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Blaine was suddenly halfway out of the driver’s seat, hand disappearing somewhere below the view that the window allowed and the other wrapping around Kurt’s neck, tongue so far gone that Cameron didn’t even know that was humanly possible.

“You’re right,” Alex sat back, staring at him with a startlingly blank expression before he was climbing to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“What-”

But Alex was already out the door, ducking low as he snuck across the front yard. Josh and Jeremy were right on his tail, and Cameron could do nothing but trip over himself to catch up.

Kurt’s shoulders were moving strangely, and it took him a few more steps toward them to realize that he was working Blaine’s shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, hand roaming up and under the fabric. Jeremy was snickering like a little kid, and Josh was waving wildly at him, as if the gesture would keep him quiet.

Alex stopped them when they were at the rear of the car, holding a finger to his lips. One of the windows was rolled down a bit, and the noises coming through that crack sent a bolt straight through Cameron’s abdomen.

“Blaine, uh, huh.” There was a big pause for the very, very distinct sound of lips coming together, wet and sliding and wide open. Then, the smack of lips breaking apart. “My dad’s waiting up for me.”

Alex began creeping around the passenger side of the car, keeping them still with a hand in the air.

“Don’t worry,” Blaine said quickly, and through the rear window, Cameron could see his hands working somewhere near Kurt’s waist. And then he was adjusting himself in his seat, rising up, bending over, leaning down. His voice dropped into a deep whisper. “I’ll make it quick.”

Jeremy threw a panicked look at Josh, who stared nervously at Cameron, who was still staring through the window, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open.

There was panting, a lot of heavy, throaty panting, and Cameron wanted so desperately to walk away, but Alex was sitting back on his haunches patiently, eyebrows scrunched and smile crooked.

It was when Kurt forced out a high-pitched, cut-off, “Blaine, I think I’m-” and was biting back a strangled cry that Alex jumped up, slapping his palms against the windshield with a hallow clap, screaming, “Cock suckers!” and the two in the car nearly jumped from their skin.

Alex burst out into laughter, sprinting back toward them and smacking Cameron on the back, running hard down the street, Josh and Jeremy right behind him as they turned sharply around the corner.

Cameron stumbled backward, nearly taking a fall to the concrete, and his heart thundered in his chest. The two of them were staring at him with loose jaws, and he swallowed hard, lifted two fingers into the air, “Fuck you, faggots.”

And the last thing he saw before he twisted around on his heel was Kurt’s wide, sea foam eyes, staring painfully at him through the back window.

A week passed with Cameron hibernating in his house, claiming that finals were coming up and he really didn’t have any time to hang out with friends.

But he was just afraid make an appearance outside the house. The Monday after their gay escapade, Alex came into school sharing wild stories in homeroom over loose ties and bagels, proud of what he had done, and Jeremy and Josh nodded fiercely to show their agreement. “And then the kid- what was his name, Cameron?”

Cameron looked up from where he had been picking off little pieces of his cinnamon bagel. “Kurt?”

“Yeah,” he turned back to his crowd, which was a gaggle of wide-eyed girls and boys who were only there just to be there. “So, this Kurt kid was like seriously getting into it, like having a guy suck him off was the best thing in the world. And Blaine or whatever had, I swear to god, the entire cock down his throat.” Alex lifted a hand to show he was being completely serious.

“What happened?” One of the girls asked, hands folded over the edge of the desk and chin atop her knuckles. “Did they see you?”

“Oh, no. They didn’t see me.” He waggled his eyebrows before he continued. “So, just when they get to the nasty stuff, like, ejaculation,” he paused and the girls cracked a disgusted face, “I jump up, slam the windshield, and yell that they’re a bunch of fag cock suckers. And the look on their faces, oh my god, it was priceless.”

The group vibrated with laughter, and Alex looked over to him. “Was it or was it not priceless, Cameron?”

Cameron smiled. “Definitely priceless.”

And Alex nodded at him, smirking, before turning to let some girls ask him questions, and Cameron tore his bagel in half, mashed it onto a ball, and stood to go throw it out.

That same afternoon, as he was walking away from his bus stop and toward his house, Finn jogged up to him, football cradled under his arm and hair matted with sweat. He must have been mowing the lawn or something, because there were little pieces of grass stuck to his shins.

“Hey, dude,” Finn stopped in front of him, blocking the sidewalk, and his grin was a little goofy, but Cameron was surprised by the sudden conversation, so he didn’t really notice.

“Uh, hi.” Cameron hefted his backpack higher up onto his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Finn’s smile flickered, and suddenly, he was giving Cameron such a hard glare, Cameron took a step away. “You know,” he rolled the football between his hands, looking for Cameron’s eyes and finding them, holding his gaze. “Kurt’s my brother.”

Cameron went numb.

“And what you and friends are doing, it isn’t cool.” He tucked the football under his arm again. “I was like you once, you know. Not understanding and stuff. But that doesn’t mean you can go and act like it’s totally okay.”

He struggled for something to say, mouth hanging open. Finally, he got his tongue around a few words, “How do you know?” And the question sounded so stupid, he would have opted for slapping himself across the face.

And from the expression Finn had on, it must have been as stupid as it sounded. “Look, kid, Kurt doesn’t know I’m doing this, but I told him I had his back. So, why don’t you do us all a favor, and grow up a bit. You’re in, what, seventh grade?”

Cameron’s mouth was parched. “Eighth. I’m in eighth grade.”

“Okay, so, like, you can’t be that dumb. There’s nothing wrong with my brother, and you are way out of line if you think you can just sneak around calling him a... a fag.” It sounded like the word wounded Finn, and Cameron’s eyes went round. “So, back off.”

Cameron didn’t say anything back, didn’t tell Finn that what he did wasn’t any of his business, but Finn was already walking away from him, tossing the football up into the air and letting it land smoothly back into his palms.

Now, Cameron was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at a baseball game playing on the television, science textbook open on his lap, fingers thumbing the corner of the page.

His looked up when his dad came in through the front door, briefcase swinging. “Hey, son.” He loosened his tie and slipped off his overcoat. “Mr. Hummel invited us over for dinner tonight.” As he walked by, he ruffled Cameron’s hair, and Cameron felt his stomach twist. “So, just make sure you clean up and wear your nice pants, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Cameron flipped to the next page in the textbook, turned his head to look out the window, and Mr. Hummel was wiping grease off his fingers with a towel as he stood in front of the open hood of a car.

“Hey dad,” Cameron turned to look at him from where he stood at the base of the staircase. “Did Mr. Hummel say anything...” He spread out his palms, searching for the right words. “Did he say anything about his sons?”

His father looked genuinely confused. “No, not at all. He just said his wife found a new recipe and she was dying to try it out.”

Cameron nodded, looking slowly back down to his textbook. His lungs emptied in relief.

His mother licked her finger and wiped at an invisible smudge on his cheek, “Did you brush your teeth?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Comb your hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you wash your face?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What about-”

“Mom, seriously?” Cameron cast an exaggerated look over at her. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Okay, just,” she smiled, “did you iron your pants, because I know how you sometimes don’t hang them up right-”

Cameron was deliberating whether or not that moment would be the best time to find a cliff and jump off it when Finn pulled open the door.

Cameron wondered if his exhalation went unnoticed.

“Hey, guys, sorry for making you wait,” he stepped aside and let them stroll in past him. “My dad’s in the living room, so like, make yourselves comfortable.”

Cameron nodded at him when he passed, but Finn just looked at him, expressionless, and Cameron felt his stomach drop.

Finn’s girlfriend was there, wandering in and out of the kitchen, singing under her breath as she laid out plates of appetizers on the coffee table, throwing out a “Hi, I’m Rachel!” and Cameron offered a small grin as sat himself down on the couch beside his dad, watching as Mr. Hummel passed his dad a bottle of beer. His heart was racing wildly, and he had to clench his fingers into fists to keep them from shaking.

He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing nervously around the room, and as his father turned away to start a conversation, he stood. “Do you, uhm, have a bathroom?”

Finn pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the hallway. “Down there and to your left.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled when he walked by, and Finn just ignored him. Cameron ducked his head, and he was coming up to the bathroom, but there was a triangular beam of light falling across the carpet, so he slowed himself to a stop.

The steady flow of voices filled the vacancy of the hallway, and with a sudden stab of panic searing through him, he pressed himself against the wall, perking his ears to listen.

“I just cannot believe my dad invited him over. I... It’s just. Whatever.”

Cameron peered through the crack of the door, and in the mirror’s reflection, he saw the back of Kurt’s head, and then his boyfriend, standing idly between his knees.

“The kid isn’t even in high school, Kurt.” He ran his hands up Kurt’s arms, stopping them when he reached the curve of his shoulders, squeezing. “He’s probably some insecure, uneducated boy who’s questioning his own sexuality.”

Cameron glared.

“No, no, he isn’t gay. I’ve got one hell of a gaydar, and I’d know.” Kurt was lifting a hand to smooth down the collar of Blaine’s shirt. “But you know what, I’m not worrying about this. He’s not worth my energy.”

“That’s a boy,” Blaine’s smile was disarming, and Cameron began to back away. His heart was beating so fast, he felt like he was suffering from palpitations. “So, just enjoy the night. You’ve got nothing to prove.”

Cameron was back in the living room before he could hear the rest of the conversation, and was thankful when Mrs. Hummel called everyone for dinner.

“So, Cameron,” Blaine smiled at him over the plate of asparagus being passed around. “Are you thinking about high school yet?”

There was enough chatter at the table for the question to go unnoticed by his parents, but Cameron shifted uncomfortably in his chair, anyway. “Uh, a little. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to get through finals. They’re a couple of weeks away.”

“Mhm,” Blaine nodded carefully, regarding him with crinkled eyebrows. “How are your friends?”

Kurt turned away from his conversation with Rachel to give Blaine a wide-eyed look. Cameron felt his face burn. “They’re, uh. Yeah, they’re good.”

“That’s nice.” Blaine was deliberately ignoring Kurt when he was asked to pass over the rolls. Then, he leaned forward a bit, made a show of licking his lips. “Make sure you tell them I said hello.”

Cameron’s jaw went slack, and Kurt grabbed Blaine’s arm to forcefully jerk him into a conversation about Six Flags and summer gigs.

“You’re applying to Dalton? Dude!” Jeremy dropped his books onto Cameron’s desk, put his fists on his hips. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Cameron blinked up at him.

Josh appeared beside him. “Are you trying to tell us something? Like, I mean,” he leaned down, dropped his voice into a whisper, “are you queer? Because I’m not ready to handle that.”

Cameron snapped shut his notebook. “I’m doing it to humor my parents, alright? We were invited over to the Hummel’s a couple of weekends ago and my dad started talking to Blaine about Dalton. So, he got me an application. I probably won’t even get in. So calm your tits.”

Jeremy eyed him. “You’re gay.”

Cameron thumped a fist on the desk. “I’m not gay!” The statement had heads turning, and he slumped down in his chair. “Just drop it, already.”

They did, but that didn’t keep them from looking at him strangely for the rest of the day.

When he went to his locker after the dismissal bell, he saw what had been done, saw what was waiting for him even before he could stare at it directly.

The word faggot was spray-painted in bright, red, angry letters across the metal.

Alex came up to him as he was digging through his books, leaned against the locker beside his, mouth pulled into a tight frown. “Still thinking about going to Dalton, faggot?”

Cameron looked at him hard, tried to ignore the burning embarrassment splayed across his cheeks, and shut his locker with a snap of the wrist. “As a matter of fact, yeah.” He bumped shoulders with him when he made his way by. “I am.”

The school year ended with finals going by torturously and Cameron avoiding Alex like he had attracted a bimolecular atom of the plague. Josh and Jeremy, in turn, didn’t speak to him, but Cameron found that he didn’t mind, because he was falling into friendship with a new group of friends, the kind that didn’t get him elbow deep in trouble with homophiliacs.

His sister came home about a week afterward, and they were watching a Yankees game one evening, sitting on opposite sides of the couch and reaching to the middle cushion every few seconds to get a hand into the popcorn bowl.

Cameron had glanced out the window once, across the street, and through the Hummel’s window, he saw Kurt and Blaine, sitting close together, fingers laced, and every once in a while, Blaine would bring their twined fingers to his mouth to mumble something and kiss the back of Kurt’s hand.

He didn’t understand why they seemed so anxious, but at the bottom of the seventh, one of the announcer’s voice perked up. “This just in, people.”

Cameron’s eyebrows went up.

“According to our local news channel, gay marriage has just been legalized in the great state of New York!”

His eyes widened, mouth falling open, and his sister grunted next to him. “That’s cool.”

He twisted to the side to look back out the window, a grin cracking across his face when all he saw was Kurt jumping up and down, and Blaine still sitting on the couch, staring at the screen with a loose jaw. But, then, Blaine’s lips pulled into a smile, so wide and so joyously excited that he jumped up too, caught Kurt’s cheeks between his palms.

Cameron had to squint to see what was said next, but it appeared to be something vaguely along the lines of, “We can get married.”

And then, they were kissing each other, desperate and frantic and filled with so much emotion that Cameron’s heart clogged up his throat.

Blaine wiped his thumbs over Kurt’s tears. Kurt laughed against his parted lips, “This is happening. This is really happening.” And he kept saying it, over and over, and Cameron was pretty sure he kept saying it, even after he finally tore his eyes away from the window.

When he walked into the kitchen a few weeks later, an envelope bearing the Dalton insignia was waiting for him on the counter.

His hands were trembling as he worked a thumb underneath the seal, and he nearly ripped the packet of papers as he rushed to unfold them.

He read the first line, blinked a few times because he wasn’t sure if he read it correctly, and then went back to read it again.

It took a minute of him listening to himself breathe before a smile cracked across his face, until his heart swelled up into his throat, and suddenly, his vision blurred and he was wiping at his cheeks.

His mother found him standing there, half an hour later, and she gasped, running over to him to draw him into a crushing hug. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s nothing,” he laughed into her shoulder, using the back of his hand to wipe at his running nose, and the tears were beginning to overflow again. “It’s just, I can’t believe it. I got in.”

It took him two days of watching from the front window, ducking out of the way whenever he thought he might be spotted, before he finally willed himself to leave the house and walk across the street.

His hand lingered over the doorbell, hesitant, and then from behind him, a car door slammed.

Cameron whirled around, and Kurt was staring at him, hand still hovering near the door handle. “What do you want?”

“Uh,” Cameron shuffled his feet, looked down at the ground. “I got into Dalton.”

Kurt stared at him for a few more seconds before he tore his gaze away and started making his way up the path. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “Uhm, Kurt?”

Kurt stopped, looked at him with clear, blue eyes. “Yes?”

Cameron had to swallow back the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

He seemed taken aback, because his lips parted a bit and he blinked a few times. But then, when Cameron was beginning to think that maybe he should just run away and hide under a rock, he smiled.

Cameron straightened his tie, smoothed his palms over his slacks, smiling so wide his cheeks were beginning to go numb.

He was looking through the freshman orientation packet, trying to decipher the school map, and when he flipped to the last page, there was a list of seniors.

He skimmed over it, and then read through it a bit more slowly.

When a student passed by that didn’t look like a freshman, he called out. “Excuse me?”

The guy stopped, turned to him and plastered on a smile. “What’s up?”

Cameron stood and made his way over to him. “I was just wondering if there is, uh, if there’s a boy named Blaine who goes here?”

The smile faltered. “Oh, Blaine. Blaine Anderson? Yeah,” he offered a closed mouth grin, “he transferred. He goes to McKinley now.”

Cameron blinked.

“Did you know him?”

He shrugged. “Not really, no. He just, well,” Cameron patted the packet awkwardly, “he kind of persuaded me to come here.” The other student nodded, and Cameron made a quick goodbye before turning sharply on his heel.

As he sat down and flipped back open the packet, he couldn’t help his smile.

Also, please point out any and all mistakes. This was lightly beta-ed.

GUYS THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER

2011-03-05T12:39:13Z

Well actually it's now my fanfiction journal because I'm cool like that. All entries not relating to writing will become private, and I'll also remove communities that are unrelated. So if you're not into that and really just want to read about my life (you know you do), head on over to nightingeek and hook up. I'll be waiting ;D

Thank you royalbk!

2010-12-08T02:15:30Z

Thank you royalbk my love for this lovely birthday present:

It means the absolute world to me that you thought of me! <3 You have no idea just how much this made me smile!

NaNo Playlist!

2010-11-07T17:17:05Z

1. Animal - Neon Trees
2. Secrets - One Republic
3. Second Chance - Shinedown
4. Viva La Vida - Coldplay
5. Somebody Told Me - The Killers
6. Love the Way You Lie - Eminem ft. Rihanna
7. The Man Who Can't Be Moved - The Script
8. Collide - Howie Day
9. Already Gone - Kelly Clarkson
10. Mockingbird - Rob Thomas

My problem is that ten songs is only like a half hour, give or take a few minutes. So, I need song suggestions! Anything, everything! Because I have no more songs that inspire me to write. Feed my brain! It likes to eat!

Plus, I'm 5,658 words behind. I could really use some help. -_-'

My poor, poor brain

2009-05-31T22:50:17Z

I think I broke it. Because sm_monthly made me crazy, and I was on a writing spree because I so badly wanted to get all 31 themes done within this month.

But I did it! And I'm so proud! (Let us raise our glasses in hopes that they all make sense.)

Cheers!

SM_Monthly - May 2

2009-05-02T16:05:52Z

Title: Essence
Author: sailorraspberry
Theme: Wither
Genre: Romance, Angst
Version: Anime
Rating: PG

She plucked at the petals of a rose, twirling the slick, green stem between her fingertips. With a sigh, she threw it to the ground, sitting back fully against the blooming cherry tree.

Around her, children and parents and lovebirds of the sort pranced and preened happily, flourishing in their own giddiness.

Rei scowled, fingers curling into the grass. She was jealous, and she knew it. But she couldn’t resist. All around her, people were floundering about, passionate and loving those they were with. And here she was, by herself, wishing she could be like that, too.

Her heart ached tremendously at the thought, and she reached for the rose again. Lifting it to her nose, she inhaled, wishing that, instead of the sour smell of a dying flower, it was the sweet scent of a certain man, black locks and blue eyes and strong, wanton essence that was all him.

But it wasn’t. It never would be. And it made her stomach twist and curl in ways that only she knew. She was a smitten woman, heart taken by a man who was already claimed.

That understanding drew another sigh, eyes drooping and shoulders slumping. Beside her, the rose's petals formed spiraling crescents and whorls, the signs of a withering soul.

Fanlistings

2008-12-30T14:51:21Z

I've incorporated a list of fanlistings that I've joined, partly because the rules required me to do so, but also because I am thoroughly in love with said fanlistings.

Forever I Promise - The Chiba Mamoru and Tsukino Usagi Fanlisting Moon Prism Power - A Fanlisting for BSSM Anime and Manga The Kept Promise - Sailor Moon R The Movie Fanlisting La Smoking Bomber - The Approved Chiba Mamoru Fanlisting Usa-ko - A Fanlisting for Tsukino Usagi... Sailor Moon... Serenity	Still A Moonie - a BSSM Web Clique Romeo Montague - I Am No Pilot Juliet Fiammata Asto Capulet - The Scent Of Iris Heavenscent - A Romeo x Juliet Fanlisting Roses & Irises - The Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet Fanlisting	Owaranai Yume no naka de - The Furukawa Nagisa and Okazaki Tomoya Fanlisting Miracles - The Clannad Fanlisting Colorful Sky - The Clannad ~After Story~ Fanlisting Imperial Flower - Hyakujitsu no Bara (Maiden Rose) fanlisting My Only Rose - Klaus von Wolfstadt and Taki Reizen fanlisting
Kinda Sweet - Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor fanlisting On the Mountain - A Brokeback Mountain fanlisting

Self-Primp

2008-11-30T15:30:12Z

I win! Seriously, I thought I wasn't going to be able to, due to my schedule, but I've done it.! Hallelujah, praise the Lord!

I won!