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vcg73 · 7 years

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Witch!Kurt Chapter 25: Family Night

This is one of those sort of rambling ones that I couldn’t seem to corral. Sorry for the mild cliff-hanger at the end. I didn’t want to get too far into that bit in this chapter. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Burt reached the top of the stairs and listened intently for a moment. It had been quite a while since he had heard the shower turn off, but he was reluctant to disturb his son and Adam if they were still talking or … well, he did not want to interrupt them either way.

Hearing no obvious sounds from behind Kurt’s closed door, he decided it was probably safe to knock. He waited a few moments afterward, surprised to receive no response. Had they left? Off the top of his head, he could not remember whether Adam had that transportation power or not.

Hoping he was not about to walk in on something he shouldn’t, Burt ventured to open the door and peek inside. What he saw made him relax. The young couple was lying on top of Kurt’s freshly made bed, fully dressed and snuggled in each other’s arms as they napped peacefully together.

Poor kids. Between the adrenaline rush of Adam’s adventure, their shared panic attack, Kurt’s magical morning workout, and the mutual stress-relief he was certain they had been enjoying up here earlier, he supposed they must be exhausted.

Burt debated with himself, then decided they probably needed food just as much as they did sleep. Kurt had told him over Christmas that magic sapped a lot of resources, and that he was usually starving after he’d been using it for any length of time.

With years of experience in the best way to wake Kurt without startling him, Burt stepped forward to gently shake his son’s shoulder, whispering, “Kurt? Hey, buddy. It’s time to wake up.”

Bleary blue eyes opened with reluctant slowness. “Dad?”

He reached down to ruffle the thick brush of still-damp brown hair fondly. “Yeah. Sorry to disturb you, but Carole says dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. Do you two want to come down for it, or should I ask her to save you both a plate?”

Kurt grunted and sat up, hitching himself forward a little and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, careful not to disturb Adam. He rubbed at his stomach when it let out an audible gurgle, expressing its own opinion on what he should do. Kurt laughed a bit. “Dinner sounds great. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Adam zonked out and I figured I’d just keep him company for a minute.” He yawned and made a token effort to fix his hair. “How long have we been up here?”

“A couple of hours,” Burt said, patting his shoulder when his eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to apologize. “It’s fine. Guess you both needed a chance to relax.”

Kurt winced at the slight emphasis on the word, clearly realizing that some of their recent activity must have been audible downstairs. “I thought we were being quiet.”

Burt raised an eyebrow. “You were. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” he said faintly.

“Oh Kuht, you are a God!” Burt mocked with a half-hearted try at duplicating Adam’s British accent.

Kurt raised both hands to his burning cheeks, but was unable to keep from smiling. “Oh wow, you heard that? Sorry Dad. Um … are you okay?”

“I’ll live, though I am rethinking those new tiles I put up in that bathroom last summer,” he said wryly. Then his lips twitched into a smirk. “But hell, I actually think I’m kinda proud.”

“You ought to be,” Adam interrupted, opening his eyes and smiling sleepily at them both. He looked quite smug as he sat up, yawning and dipping forward to kiss Kurt’s t-shirt clad shoulder. “And I second the vote for dinner. Starvation is closing in as we speak.”

Burt snorted. “Guess you worked up an appetite, huh?” he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Between combat class and wandering all over Lima, that is. We’ve got beef stew, salad, and fresh bread waiting downstairs.”

“Food and a nap. The answers to everything,” Adam said, eyes brightening.

Kurt let go a little huff, his tense posture relaxing as he realized that his dad had decided to let the two of them off the hook. “All hail the wisdom of Lord Tubbington.”

Adam sniffed the savory scent that had followed Burt through the open door. “It smells delicious. Just give me half a mo to freshen up, and I’ll be right down.”

Kurt gave him a kiss and then stood up. “Take your time. I’ll go see if Carole needs help setting the table.”

Reaching out quickly, Burt stopped him. “Wait. Before you go down, I need to talk to you both for a minute. Do you remember over Christmas when you guys looked at Carole with your witch goggles and said that she could be one of you?”

“We said that she had unmanifested Potential,” Adam corrected. “Meaning that she carries the genetic component to be a witch, but her power never developed.”

Burt nodded eagerly. “Right, but see that’s what I’m saying. Something weird has been going on with her over the last few weeks. She didn’t want me to bother you, knowing how much stuff of your own you’ve both been dealing with, but we agreed to quit trying to protect each other from the truth, and I figured you’d want to know.” Kurt indicated his agreement, his expression serious. “Carole dismisses it all as being tired or imagining things, but I’m not convinced. See, ever since we saw Blaine after New Year’s, she’s been having these symptoms.”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Kurt said, waving a hand to stop his father’s words. “You saw Blaine? Are you both okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He harrumphed. “We’re fine, and I’m telling you now. It was the day we got back from New York. Blaine was waiting for us when we landed, all ready to give us a ride home from the airport. It was no secret to anyone that we were visiting you over the holidays, but how he found out when we’d be getting back, I have no idea. For all I know, he grilled the mailman. Anyhow, Adam’s magical cologne helped us keep our heads when he started pouring on the charm, though it kind of made me feel itchy all over, like a bug was crawling up my skin. I guessed it was his persuasive influence rippling against your force-field, like in those sci-fi shows Carole likes to watch.”

“Very likely,” Adam agreed. He scooted off the bed and moved to lean against the nearest wall, crossing his arms over his chest in a habitual thinking pose. “In fact, I suppose it’s possible that being around so much magic lately, including frequently wearing Burt’s pendant and my perfume, just might have sparked Carole’s dormant power. We know she already had at least a modicum of active magic, just by her ability to sense the memories the girls infused into her necklace. If her magic was entirely inert she’d have received no more than a warm feeling of affection. Not clear, if somewhat oddly blended, memories. Burt, what else has been happening?”

“Well, I’m not sure given that she’s been a little closed-mouth about the whole thing, but I know she got a real bad migraine after we ran into Blaine. And she snapped at him for the first time I can remember. Said he had no business acting all friendly to us after what he did, and she didn’t want him dropping by anymore. He got a real weird look on his face when she said that. That boy isn’t used to hearing the word “no”.”

“Or at least not paying attention to it,” Kurt grumbled. “Sorry, go on.”

“Well, I thought that’d be the last of it, but then Carole started getting these moody moments. Like she’ll get really angry, or suddenly start to cry, or burst out laughing, and then a minute later she’s fine and sort of confused about whatever made her do it. I’m really getting worried about her. I mean, I guess it could just be something biological. Menopause, or some kind of delayed stress syndrome that our grief therapist missed when we were going to all those sessions after your brother passed, but I don’t want to take any chances if it’s something more in your line.”

Kurt’s eyebrows had furrowed. “Wow. I’m glad you told us. We need to help her. Adam, what do you think?”

“It does sound as if she’s had a late manifestation of her power. I’d rather not turn my Sight on her again without her knowledge. I felt a bit weird about doing that before. I suggest for now we just go downstairs and have a pleasant dinner. We’ve all been pretty worked up today and if she is developing a Talent for empathy, it wouldn’t be a good idea to bombard the poor woman with our collective anxiety.”

“Try to keep the magical shop-talk to a minimum until everyone is nice and relaxed,” Kurt agreed. “I was thinking the same thing. When a good opportunity shows up, we can ask for permission to See her aura again. I don’t think she’ll actually object to the idea of being a witch, but I’d rather not spring it on her out of the blue.”

Burt nodded. “Thanks, son. I really appreciate this. What do you say we go set the table and act like an everyday, average, non magical family for a while?”

“I’ll be down in a few moments,” Adam promised. “Kurt, would you mind if I borrowed your mobile?”

He reached into his pocket and handed it over. “Sure.” He smiled when his empty stomach suddenly lodged another complaint. Giving it a pat, he warned his fiance. “Just don’t take too long or I won’t leave you any dinner.“

Adam laughed and gave him a quick kiss. “Duly noted.”

~*~*~*~*~

“I ran over to the store earlier and grabbed a bottle of that merlot you and Carole both like, a pack of light beer for me, and a few of those orange sodas I saw back at your place for Adam,” Burt said in the kitchen a few minutes later.

“Thanks, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“No problem. It’s not like when you, Finn, and Sam all lived here and half the glee club was usually tagging along behind you. It wasn’t easy to keep up when I had an endless parade of teenagers roaming through my refrigerator twelve hours a day.”

Kurt laughed, pulling out four sets of cutlery to go with a set of bowls and plates he took down from the dish cupboard. “I understand your pain. I have a coven of nine people going in and out of my apartment all the time and we’re always hungry. If you want, we can ask Brittany to use her magic and restock the fridge for you before we go home tomorrow.”

Burt chuckled. “Maybe I will. Speaking of large gatherings, how’s the wedding planning going? You guys still set on a Valentine’s wedding?”

As if conjured by the mention of his impending nuptials, Carole was suddenly by Kurt’s side. “Oh, yes. I want to hear the details!”

For a few minutes, Kurt happily told them all about his and Adam’s plans. A ceremony with his coven in the morning, followed by a civil service at the courthouse with just their families and Kurt’s best man (Adam was planning to give his little brother the honor.) in attendance, then on to the large reception hall where the rest of the coven would have everything set up for a grand party.

“We only have the hall for three hours that afternoon, but that’s enough time for everyone to have hors d'oeuvres and wedding cake, and get some songs and dances and toasting in before we take off on our honeymoon.”

“Where have you decided to go?” Carole asked eagerly. “With transportation magic you can go anywhere in the world!”

He nodded. “True, and Elliott already offered a lift. Unfortunately, we can only afford to do a long weekend since I’ll still be busy with school, but we’re hoping to take a couple of weeks in the summer and see some of Europe. I’ve always dreamed of going there, and that will give us a few months for this business with Blaine to be wrapped up, and for Adam to have hopefully recovered enough that he can show me around. His dad used to have business trips that took him all over, and he would just pack up his kids and Transport them along with him. I felt a little like I might be cheating Adam out of something he’s always wanted to do when I found that out, but he’s really excited to see his old haunts again, to show me his favorite spots and introduce me to some of his old friends.”

Carole sighed rapturously. “That sounds just lovely, and there’s nothing wrong with delaying things until you’re settled. A European honeymoon would be romantic, no matter when you end up taking it.”

Burt gave her a fond squeeze around the waist. “Is that a hint?”

“Hey, that’s right! Thanks to Dalton, you never did get your own honeymoon,” Kurt remembered. “Maybe you should go this year. Adam and I are going to ask Henry for transportation when we go, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing the same for you guys. Adam says he’s not restricted by familiarity with the location the way Santana and Elliott both are.”

“We may take you up on that one of these days,” Burt said with a smile. “Or we may do it the old fashioned way. We’ve got a little extra put away now and might be nice to see what a first-class flight is like.”

Carole gave him a kiss on his round cheek, and then clapped her hands. “I’ll get some travel brochures on Monday and we can start making plans! But for right now, let’s get this food on the table before everything gets cold.”

As the three of them moved into the dining area, Burt said, “Oh by the way, kid, I picked you up some winter s’mores for dessert.”

Kurt licked his lips. “Really? That’s awesome!”

“What’s a winter s’more?” Adam asked, walking in to join them. He had combed his hair neatly and straightened out his nap rumpled clothing. Giving Kurt a kiss and handing his phone back, he relieved Carole of the large salad bowl she had just taken out of the refrigerator, helpfully putting a serving on each salad plate as Kurt set the dishes in place.

Carole told him, “They’re one of Kurt’s favorites. Graham crackers, chocolate frosting, and a spray of Reddi-Whip. He introduced Finn and me to them the winter after Burt and I got married, and the first night I think my son polished off an entire box of crackers and a can of frosting all by himself.”

Adam laughed. “Well then, I’m definitely looking forward to being the next convert.”

The family took their places around the table, Burt putting a ladle-full of fragrant beef stew in each of their bowls. The four of them spontaneously clinked their assorted cans and glasses in a cheerful toast before they began to eat.

“Wonderful as always,” Kurt said, after a hearty bite of his stew. “Nobody makes this like you do, Carole.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Adam, would you like some bread?”

He put his spoon down and held out his hand to accept the small plate she was offering. “Please. I agree with Kurt. I feel I could eat the entire pot of stew single handed.”

Burt smiled around a bite. “Help yourself. Just save some room for dessert.”

“Tell me more about these s’mores. How exactly did you come about discovering your fondness for them?” Adam asked, taking a bit more salad as well and dribbling a light serving of dressing on top. “Were you a scout of some sort?”

Kurt laughed. “No way. This may surprise you, but I actually love camping. Every summer, from the time I was about three, Dad would take me to a place just a little northwest of here called Cody Lake. My mom wasn’t an outdoors person, so she’d take the opportunity of a few child-free days to visit with friends or get some things done, while Dad and I went out and played manly men of the woods together.”

Burt joined in, “I admit with a lot of hind-sight embarrassment that my original motive for those weekends was stupid. I had just got my first inkling that Kurt was gay when he was coming up on his third birthday, so I got it in my head that if I introduced him to stuff like fishing and camping, that I could head his sexuality off at the pass.” He and Kurt exchanged a rueful look. Seeing Adam’s surprised face, Burt shrugged. “Let’s just say I had my head a lot farther up my ass when I was your age. Anyhow, much to my surprise, Kurt took to the great outdoors like a duck to water. He thought sleeping in a tent and cooking around the campfire were terrific fun.”

“There were lots of bird and animals, trail songs, lying out on the sleeping bags looking up at millions of stars overhead,” Kurt said, eyes shining like he could still see those twinkling lights. “We took hikes through woods filled with flowers and streams; went swimming in the lake; and of course there was plenty of fishing, which for some reason I found absolutely hilarious. Whenever a fish would grab one of dad’s worms and start tugging at his line, I would just roll over laughing. Then at night there were ghost stories and s’mores around the campfire.”

Adam looked surprised but absolutely charmed. “You enjoyed ghost stories? Even though you were barely out of nappies?”

Kurt gave him a teasing smile. “Even as a wee baby camper, I was fearless.”

“He really was,” Burt agreed. “Though to be fair, they were pretty mild stories. Except for that one about the vampires who lived in the caverns at the south end of the campgrounds. That was a mistake that I lived to regret!”

“I think I was five when he told me that story,” Kurt said, shivering dramatically at the memory. “He got a little carried away with the details and I started crying. I was sure a bunch of blood-thirsty monsters were going to pop up out of the ground and eat us. He eventually got me calmed down enough to go to sleep but then I woke up from some kind of noise in the middle of the night and wormed my way into Dad’s bag for protection.”

Burt snorted. “Yeah, he went back to sleep and then proceeded to wet the bed. And me! I spent the rest of the night standing guard against vampires. After that, you can bet I stuck with stories about nice friendly baby animals frolicking in the forest.”

Adam managed to make a convincing ‘aww’ face, even though he was laughing too hard to continue eating. “You poor little thing. Serves you right, Burt. I suppose that story is what planted the seed for Kurt’s continued aversion to those nasty blighters.”

“If they aren’t sparkling and angst-ridden, I don’t wanna deal with ‘em,” Kurt said vehemently, making the others laugh.

“Can’t say I was too fond of vampires myself after that night,” Burt said with a wry shake of his head. “Other than that one incident, though, we always had a real good time. I think the only thing about camping that Kurt didn’t like was the dirt and lack of regular bathrooms, but I guess he figured it was a good trade-off.”

Kurt smiled. “Which brings us back to the s’mores. They’re how he calmed me down after the story. Dad had discovered the first time he made them that I would agree to just about anything for graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows.” His expression went a little melancholy. “I was eight the last summer we went camping.”

“The winter after, his mom died,” Burt clarified, shooting Kurt an apologetic look. “I should’ve kept it up, but I just didn’t have much heart for stuff like that for a long time. The winter s’mores happened the year he was ten and Kurt got sick. He picked up a really awful cold with a lot of chest congestion, and it turned into bronchitis. He had to stay in bed a while and he was miserable. My sister offered to come out and stay with us so I could work part time, and it helped, but I felt guilty every time I had to leave him alone.”

Kurt reached out and squeezed his hand. “I got scared that maybe I was sicker than I thought because he brought me so many stuffed animals and games that week. Basically, all I had to do was ask for something and Dad was jumping to get it.”

“Then one night, I asked him to tell me if there was anything special he wanted to eat. His appetite wasn’t the greatest at the best of times, but being sick had pretty much killed it off, so when he asked if there was any way we could have s’mores, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to get him some.”

“Unfortunately,” Kurt cut in, “it was the middle of winter and everything was frozen solid. We couldn’t use the barbecue and we didn’t have a fireplace in our house. But we did have a box of graham crackers, and we used to live just down the street from a little market, so Dad got all bundled up and mushed out into the storm. Aunt Mildred thought he was crazy.”

“When I got to the store, they’d been cleaned out of marshmallows by people wanting hot chocolate, but I found a big can of whipped cream in the cold case, and a can of Betty Crocker chocolate frosting on the shelf. I managed to get ‘em home and put everything together the best I could. They weren’t exactly real s’mores, but they seemed to make him happy.”

“I thought they were the best thing ever,” Kurt laughed. “After that, I started requesting them every winter. I didn’t want them any other time, but when the weather got cold I always requested what we started calling winter s’mores. Even when I got really calorie-conscious in high school, I could never resist having at least one.”

“I noticed you’re eating better since you moved to New York,” Burt commented. “Healthy stuff, sure, but also good stuff like cake and ice cream. Figured you might be up for your old favorite.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you thought of it. Besides, ever since I started using magic it seems like it doesn’t matter how much I stuff my face, I stay thin anyway.”

“Makes me wish you’d inherited the witchy powers from me,” Burt said, ruefully patting the rounded surface of his belly. He had taken up regular exercise since his heart attack , but middle age had still managed to settle comfortably around his waist.

Adam laughed, spooning up the last bite of his dinner and regretfully waving away Carole’s inquiring gesture with the serving bowl. “Well, I for one am looking forward to trying these dessert masterpieces. However, I think you owe your gorgeous figure more to youth and an active lifestyle than to witchcraft, darling,” he said, copying Burt’s gesture and patting his own flat stomach. Adam was still noticeably on the thin side after his ordeal with the Void, but he said, “You’ve met my dad. He’s a very powerful witch, but … well, I should warn you that you’re likely seeing a vision of your future husband there. I always have taken after him in looks.”

Kurt just smiled at him. “I promise to always keep you on a healthy diet and regular exercise routine, if you’ll do the same for me. To be honest, though, as long as you’re healthy and happy I won’t care if you end up looking like a blond Sumo wrestler. There’ll just be more of you to cuddle with.”

Adam’s eyes were fond and full of love, knowing that while he was only teasing, Kurt really would love him just as much, no matter what sort of physical appearance he had. After all, had he not already proved that? “Ditto, darling. Though if you should feel like modeling the mawashi a bit early, I wouldn’t object.”

“The what?” Burt said with a frown.

“The costume Sumo wresters wear,” Adam told him, eyes twinkling.

He considered that. “The thong diaper?” He grimaced, but then shrugged philosophically. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing my kid has ever put on. Trust me.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt said dryly while Adam and Carole both chortled. He stood and said, “Why don’t I just go grab the dessert and some hot chocolate for all of us.”

Adam jumped up. “I’ll help. That’s a bit of a load for one person. We’ll just whisk these dishes out of the way and be back in a flash.”

He and Kurt shooed Carole out when she tried to insist on helping with the dishes, pointing out that she had cooked, so someone else should clean. Burt, more used to his son’s bossy domesticity and amused to see that Adam apparently shared in it, just knocked back the last swallow of his beer and escorted his wife out to the living room.

Kurt moved about the Hummel kitchen with the practice of long familiarity. He had not lived here in quite some time, but Carole had not moved things around too much. He got out the frosting and crackers, instructing Adam just how much to put on each so they would not be too messy after he added a spray of whipped cream to another cracker and sandwiched the two together. While he constructed their dessert, Kurt whipped up a batch of his deliciously rich hot cocoa.

“I really love watching you and your dad together,” Adam said after a moment. “You’re so wonderfully in tune. At first glance, you don’t seem very much alike, but once you start sharing memories with one another I can absolutely see it.”

“You and Henry are close,” Kurt said, borrowing the whipped cream to add a bit to each steaming cup.

Adam nodded. “We are, but it’s different for us. I had Gran to take the place of my mum after she passed. Not that I didn’t miss her, but the hole in my life wasn’t quite as big as it otherwise might have been and Dad didn’t have to try and fill it all alone. Plus I had Beth and Celie and little Donnie to share the loss with, and Dad had all of us. That made it a bit easier for my family to pick up the pieces. You and Burt didn’t have that. You had only each other, and anyone can see that even with a few years where you had trouble speaking with one another, you still managed to get each other through brilliantly.”

Kurt smiled. “Yeah. I guess we did.” He lowered his voice and asked, “Do you think Carole is relaxed enough to tell her what we talked about upstairs?”

He nodded. “Let’s go find out. I think we should just slide magic back into the conversation gradually and see if your dad picks up the cue.”

They put the finished offering on two trays and each carried one out to the waiting parents.

Burt and Carole had curled up together on one end of the sofa, leaving the soft red loveseat for the younger couple. Adam tried a winter s’more and declared it excellent, liking it even better after following Carole’s example and giving the treat a dunk in his hot cocoa. “You Hummels are clever chaps,” he said, dispatching another.

“Well, you know what they say about necessity being the mother of invention,” Burt said with a smile, nibbling a graham cracker with far less zeal than his son, who was already happily munching his third. “And when it’s your kid and you just want to put a smile on his face, you learn to get creative. You’ll see one day, maybe.”

Kurt and Adam looked at one another, surprise in their eyes.

“Actually, we haven’t really talked about that,” Kurt admitted. “I suppose we should, though, before we get married. Between how much your three younger siblings adore you, and the way you are with both the Apples and the coven, I’ve sort of just assumed you’d want to be a dad one day.”

Adam shifted, inviting Kurt to curl against him as he settled more comfortably in the big leather chair. “I would like to be, but I’m in no great rush. I seem to collect strays everywhere I go, so it’s not vitally important to me that I have someone to share DNA with. I’d be just as pleased to adopt one day, though I rather fancy the thought of a little baby with your beautiful eyes and amazing talents. However, I don’t even know if parenthood is something you’ve wished for.”

Kurt scooted down a bit so that he could rest his head against Adam’s shoulder while his fiance’s arms came around to cuddle him securely. “I don’t know if I have, to be perfectly honest. When I was young, I just assumed I would never have kids because I was gay.” He laughed a little. “But then attitudes and tech both advanced and it became a possibility. I’m still not sure, though. I like kids, but I’m not super comfortable with them. When I was with Blaine, he was always very insistent that someday we would have both a boy and a girl, and that we had to have names picked out for them. It was a fun fantasy and I didn’t mind going along with it, but he pretty much had their hypothetical lives completely mapped out for them years before they were even conceived.”

“Selfish twat,” Adam grumbled. “That’s no way to raise a child. They’re people, not dolls. They also require a good bit of self sacrifice, which I can’t imagine from that one. As you and Burt so capably proved, it isn’t up to the parents to dictate how their children will be. It’s their job to simply accept those children and take good care of them; to guide them toward being honorable and responsible adults with independent minds and good decision-making abilities.”

“Thanks,” Burt said with a nod, “and I agree with my son. You will make a terrific father one day if you already know all that. I also think I may have underestimated Henry, because it took me a lot of years to figure all that stuff out. I’m just lucky that Kurt was such a great kid while I was stumbling through raising him.”

Kurt smiled at him. “Thanks, but you were a great dad and I won’t hear any argument about it. Anyway, I do think I’ll want to be a parent at some point. But I’d prefer to put it off for a few years, until our lives are more stable and we’ve had some time to just be us first. Mister and Mister last name to be determined, the epitome of domestic bliss and crazy coven leadership.”

Adam chuckled and kissed his hair. “That sounds entirely reasonable, love. And I vote for keeping our own surnames, perhaps hyphenate at some future point, for ease of identification if we do decide to have children. The Crawford clan has a rather distinguished lineage among witches that I don’t want to abandon, and I know you feel equally proud of the Hummel legacy. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing Kurt Hummel in lights one day and boasting to anyone who will listen that he’s my husband. We want to be certain your name fits properly on a theater marquis.”

Kurt lifted his head to give Adam a kiss. “Agreed. And thank you. It’s nice to know I’m with someone who doesn’t just assume I’ll take his name.”

With a sigh, Adam held him tighter. “You make me wish I’d had the presence of mind to shoot a good strong itching spell at that nasty blighter when I saw him today.”

“Can you do that?” Kurt asked curiously.

“Mmm. I’ll teach it to you when we get home,” Adam promised, seeming to take distinct pleasure in the thought of unleashing it on their enemy. “Or perhaps the one meant to loosen or tighten the ravel on woven materials. I’m told the spell was created by some clever weaver back in pre-industrial days, but it’s also quite handy for pranking a victim so that his trousers are constantly slipping down, or tearing out at the seat when he bends. With your particular power combination you should be able to handle it with no problem at all.”

Kurt elbowed him, unable to keep from laughing. “Adam, that’s terrible! I never would have pictured you as a practical joker.”

He grinned mischievously. “Oh, there’s a reason Santana picked me for a spying partner. She must have sensed my wicked school-boy past. My two closest chums and I got up to all sorts of larks. Spent half our lives in the Headmaster’s office. I’d grown out of those impulses by the time I graduated, but I’m suddenly discovering the urge again. Another prank we might unleash on your ex is a potion that acts as a sort of reverse Viagra. It will temporarily shrivel his willy to the size of a peanut if we can figure out how to make him ingest it.”

Kurt deadpanned, “I don’t know if that’s a good choice. I’m assuming you want a spell that will be noticed.”

For a moment, the room was dead quiet. Then Kurt smirked and the others all burst into whoops of mirth.

Wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve, Burt chuckled, “I think it’s a real lucky thing for your classmates that you didn’t have magic when you lived here, kid. I’d have been getting called in to your principal’s office every other day.”

“If they ever found out it was me,” he said slyly. Then he shrugged. “Actually, Johnny said that too. The day I accidentally slagged Blaine’s old warbler figurine, he said it was a good thing I couldn’t do things like that during high school. Maybe that’s part of the reason I didn’t manifest until I was away from Ohio. My subconscious may have held me back as much as Rachel and Blaine did.”

“Speaking of Blaine,” Burt said in an all too casual manner. “I was telling the boys about him trying to give us a ride home from the airport.”

Carole seemed to realize immediately that that was not all he had told them. She sat up, giving him an exasperated look. “Oh, Burt, you know I didn’t want to worry Kurt and Adam. It’s nothing!”

“I don’t think it is. Why don’t you tell ‘em, honey. Maybe they can help.”

Kurt got up and sat down next to his step-mother, taking her hand and encouraging her with a nod.

She considered it for a moment, then sighed. “Well, all right. I’m sure it was just a coincidence, or some side effect of the protection potion Adam made for us, but the moment we spoke with Blaine, I started to develop a terrible headache. The longer we talked, the worse it got. When he started using that old coaxing tone on us, trying to get us to tell him all about our visit with you, I also got a sudden stronger sensation of anxiety and fear. I felt almost as if my body had been taken over by someone else. I suddenly got so angry that I could have happily taken the bouquet of flowers he brought for me and beat him unconscious with it. I’ve never felt that way before.”

“It was pretty great,” Burt added. “Carole yanked her hand out of Blaine’s and told him that it was none of his business how you were doing and that he wasn’t welcome at our house anymore. I told him that went double for any more drop ins at the garage, and if I ever caught him trying to put his slimy mitts on you again, I’d introduce him to my flame-thrower and find out if his hair is a greasy as it always looks. He scurried out of that place like his ass was already on fire.”

Kurt laughed. “That might not have been the wisest move, but I appreciate it. You know, Dad, one of these days I need to buy you a real flame-thrower,” he said. “You’ve been threatening people with that imaginary one since I was six.”

“I already got a real one. I got you,” Burt shot back. He snapped his fingers and pretended to shoot magical flames with his hands, making Kurt and Adam both smile.

“He has a point there,” Adam said fondly. “So, Carole, did the headaches and such fade once you were away from Blaine? I sincerely apologize for the severity of your symptoms, by the way. I hadn’t anticipated my potion having any adverse affect upon you two physically.”

She nodded. Brushing the tips of her fingers through her reddish blonde bangs, she bit her lip. “The headache faded almost immediately when we left the airport, but ever since then …”

“Tell us,” Kurt encouraged her gently.

“I keep getting … I don’t know how to describe it. Flashes, I suppose. Impressions of other people’s thoughts and feelings. It’s the strangest thing! It doesn’t happen all of the time, or even most of the time, but every now and then, I’ll be walking through the grocery store or dealing with someone at the clinic, and I’m suddenly flooded with happiness, or sadness, or in one rather embarrassing instance, visions of a coworker’s sex life!”

Burt squeezed her knee. “On Monday, I stubbed my toe real hard at work and I was hopping around and swearing, and the phone rings and it’s Carole, all worried and asking me if I’m okay. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve been trying to tell myself that I was just stressed or overtired, but it’s starting to happen more frequently and I don’t know why. Do you think that Blaine could have done something to me?” Carole asked anxiously. “I was considering asking you about it the next time I called, but it seemed so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Kurt assured her. “Believe me, I know how weird it can be to suddenly have magic pushing in on you from every direction. Carole, I want to do something. Do you remember when Adam and I explained Sight? If you don’t object, I’d like to use mine on you. Is that okay?”

Looking a little apprehensive, she nodded.

Kurt blinked his eyes firmly, activating the power. Sure enough, the murky grayish fog he had perceived around Carole when he had looked at her this way over the holidays had changed, as though the sun had come out and burned away the fog, leaving a ray of sunlight directly overhead. His dad was right. Carole’s long-dormant magic had unexpectedly activated.

“Is it empathy?” he asked, turning to Adam, who also narrowed his eyes and took a look.

He nodded. “Almost certainly. Mixed with more than a trace of telepathy, I would say, given what she described about receiving impressions of specific events. ”

Carole looked back and forth between the two of them, her mouth falling open a little. “Are you telling me that I’ve developed magic? But how is that possible? I thought you said a witch’s powers manifest during puberty.”

“Mostly,” Adam agreed with a reassuring smile. “But it has been known to happen at other times. It’s extremely rare for anyone to manifest in their middle years, but not entirely unheard of either.”

Kurt gave her an apologetic look. “I didn’t want you to feel disappointed after how excited you got about my magic, but Adam and I both noticed last month that you had a strong aura of inactive Potential. That means there was power in your blood that never developed. A lot of people have that, like a dormant gene. Apparently for most people, if it doesn’t activate by the time you’ve hit your twenties it never comes at all. We think Finn had it too, and that he was beginning to manifest. It may have been having a magic damper around him delayed his powers, just like it did mine.”

She swallowed, blinking sudden tears from her eyes. “So you’re really saying that I’m a witch? That I’m developing magic at nearly 50 years old.” They nodded, smiling a little at the half fearful, half excited tone in her voice. She laughed and wiped her eyes, then she suddenly gasped. “Oh! Oh my God. If I passed my Potential on to Finn, does that mean …? The medical examiner told us he had a sudden, unexplainable cardiac arrest. Was it the shock of discovering that he had some form of power that he couldn’t control? Was I …?”

“It was not your fault,” Adam said firmly, catching on quicker than the others. He moved to sit on the coffee table and capture her nervously fluttering hands in his. “Magic takes on many forms, and comes in a wide assortment of strengths and capabilities. I’ve a cousin whose only active power is making flowers bloom, and another who has been known to audibly shout for her rapscallion offspring at a distance of five kilometers. Neither Talent came on without warning. You may have passed on the gene for magic, or perhaps Finn inherited it from both sides of his family, but if he truly needed help then he would have attracted a mentor of some sort. New witches, even the irregular sort like Blaine and Rachel, invariably attract the attention of a more experienced fellow witch. It might be a friend or relative, a Familiar such as Elliott and Tubbington, a school like NYADA, or perhaps a coven of their own if they’re powerful enough. Your son would have been no different.”

“Thank goodness.” She momentarily closed her eyes as the panic reaction left her. She opened them again and looked at Adam, a slight smile lifting her lips. “I … I can feel how much you mean that. Empathy means to share in someone else’s emotions, doesn’t it? So when Blaine tried to coerce me at the airport I felt it as … I don’t quite know. Insincerity? Danger? Is that why I reacted so strongly?”

“Maybe,” Kurt said. “You did tell me before that you didn’t like Blaine, that you always felt like there was something fake about him. Maybe your power had already started blossoming a little. Brittany says that my Potential was really noticeable to her long before it became fully active. The coven has told me it’s not unusual to have some false starts.”

She shook her head. “But if all that’s true, shouldn’t I have attracted a mentor? Is it because I’m already close to you boys and your friends?”

“That’s a very good question,” Adam said with a smile. “And fortunately, one that I thought to call in an expert for. I gave Lord Tubbington a ring when Burt spoke to us earlier, via Brittany. I’ve never dealt with a new witch at your stage; having abundant experience with life but none whatsoever in witchcraft, and I needed a spot of advice. Apparently L.T. took one look at you when he was here this afternoon and sent out some sort of message. Don’t ask me what, or to whom. Familiars don’t quite operate by the same rules as the rest of us, but from what I gather they have some form of internal communications, which explains how they always seem to know exactly where they need to go, like Elliott sensing Kurt’s burgeoning Potential all the way from Paramus.

Kurt nodded. “Interesting, and thanks for doing that, honey. I wouldn’t have thought of asking Tubbington. I was wondering if we should invite Carole to join our coven, but that wouldn’t be practical. I can’t stay in Lima, and she can’t just pack up her life and move to New York.” He looked seriously at his parents. “I hope you’re ready for another housemate, because I suspect you’re about to get a Familiar of your very own. Someone who can give you the one on one training you’ll need. And trust me, there’s a lot to learn!”

Burt rolled his eyes. “Great. We may need you to give up your room here, son. Because cat or no cat, this new helper is not going to start sleeping in our bed with us. At least we know none of us is allergic.”

Kurt just smiled at the grouching, knowing it was just a cover for how worried he felt for Carole. He also knew that his dad liked to keep Kurt’s old space free for him “just in case”.

“Well, whoever Tubbington sends our way, I trust that they’ll be a good fit for me. And maybe they can help us figure out how to help poor Sam if he agrees to move back in with us. Then Kurt and Adam can spend less time worrying about us, and more time concentrating on their own lives,” Carole said, taking a deep breath and nodding to herself as she resolved to put the matter out of her mind for now. “Why don’t you boys tell us more about your day’s adventure? That combat magic class sounds very exciting.”

Adam and Kurt exchanged a glance, both recognizing that Carole did not wish to think any more about it for now, and was requesting a distraction from her worries. So they obliged, filling the rest of the evening with detailed accounts of Kurt’s ‘battle’ against the rubber ball blitz, and Adam’s meeting with Coach Sylvester and subsequent walk through town. Then Adam recreated his job interview with the head of Henderson Productions, followed by Kurt’s lively description of the headaches he had been experiencing with his play and how nervous he was about putting it on for an audience that would include a panel of NYADA instructors that would be judging his play-writing, directing, and acting progress.

They deliberately kept the story-telling going until everyone was relaxed again and ready to head to bed for the night

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, while the family was enjoying breakfast, the doorbell rang.

“I wonder why they’re ringing the bell instead of just coming in?” Kurt said, wiping his lips and hurrying to answer the door.

Before opening it, he sent out a magical feeler just as he had been trained to do in New York, in case there happened to be an unwelcome visitor on the other side. It was a worthwhile precaution because while Blaine had no reason to show up here, being unwelcome had never stopped him before.

The signature on the other side was not his ex, and it also did not belong to his coven mates as he had been expecting. In fact, the person on the other side was someone he recognized but had never expected to see here.

All but yanking the door open, Kurt blinked in surprise at finding no one on the other side. Then he heard a sound and looked down. A large brown long-haired cat was sitting calmly on the doormat waiting to be acknowledged. Kurt glowered at it. Even in the form of a cat, he recognized those wicked green eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Lord Tubbington told me it was time.” With no more explanation than that, the newcomer suddenly took on human form and pushed past the astonished Kurt like he owned the place. He looked around with an air of curiosity mixed with haughty judgment. “Hmm, very ‘Leave it to Beaver’ but I suppose it will have to do. Where is she?”

“You … she … you can’t be Carole’s new Familiar,” Kurt sputtered.

A lazy smirk tilted Sebastian Smythe’s lips and his narrow green eyes gleamed with amusement. “And yet, here I am.”

THE END

#witch!kurt #kadam fanfic #hudmel family fic #not sure if this is a good idea but it's where my muse took me #sort of a witch!kurt incidental fic

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jackabelle73 · 5 years

Text

Glee fic: Mr. December

Fandom: Glee -- Hudmel family feels with background Klaine, Blam friendship, and pov from the best TV dad ever, Burt Hummel.

Summary: Burt, Blaine, two calendars, and the life lessons they evoke.

Rating: Teen; no warnings apply.

Word Count: ~5,400

A/N: Written as a companion piece to 4x12, “Naked.” Reposting b/c it’s disappeared from my Tumblr and @todaydreambelievers rewatch is on “Naked” this week, so it seemed an appropriate time. To place this fic in canon timeline for you, this takes place after Kurt leaves for NYC, after Burt and Blaine visited that first Christmas in NYC and Burt announced his cancer diagnosis. Kurt and Blaine are currently still broken up and The Men of McKinley calendar is in the making.

Also on AO3

* * *

He'd never expected there to be so many gray areas in parenting. Before becoming a father, he naively thought it'd be pretty simple. Hard work, yeah, but simple and straightforward. He thought if you just loved your kid, kept them safe, gave them what they needed for life, you were doing right by them. Weren't you?

But then he was gifted with a son who was nothing, nothing like he expected. Who grew into someone he both knew everything about and yet didn't recognize at all. Eight years later, he was thrown into single parenthood, something that no one could have prepared him for -- as if even parenting with his wife was something he had been prepared for. After years of muddling through with Kurt alone -- because let's face it, muddling through was all he was doing with his kid -- he was granted a second chance at love with Carole, a second chance at marriage and co-parenting. Plus he got a step-son in the bargain. Carole had done an amazing job raising her son on her own, but Finn's hunger for a father figure in his life was obvious.

Somehow, in Kurt's teen years, he found himself acting not only as father to him, and step-father to Finn, but also a surrogate father to some of their friends. Kurt met Blaine and from the first time he brought him over, Burt couldn't help but see the neediness in the kid. Someone had given him food, shelter, clothes, an education, but hadn't loved him enough. Or maybe just not the right way, the way he needed. The small, self-deprecating smile whenever Burt spoke to him or patted him on the back, as if he wasn't accustomed to parental attention, told him that. The more time Blaine spent at their house, the more he relaxed, but the neediness and eagerness to please never went away entirely.

Then Sam moved in, and there was another kid in his house who needed a substitute father. Sam had never lacked for love from his family, but now he was far away from them and phone calls could only do so much. When you had a kid living in your house, it wasn't enough to just feed them and give them a bed to sleep in. Didn't matter if they weren't your own. Every kid needed an adult to pay attention to them, keep them in line, guide them... even when they refused to admit it.

When Sam and Blaine started to become tighter friends in their senior year, with Kurt away in New York, Burt thought it would be great for both the boys. Both of them had lost friends and significant others, and they needed new relationships to ground them. Then came the call. Dad, he cheated on me, choked out between sobs. And Blaine didn't come around for a while. One afternoon in October, when some time had passed, Sam tentatively mentioned that he'd asked Blaine over to work on Student Council stuff. Burt couldn't find it in him to deny the kid entry to his home. Both of them still needed friends.

So he sat down to call his son one day, trying to figure out how to casually mention that his ex-boyfriend was hanging out at the house again. How do you tell your son that you've opened your door to the boy who broke his heart? How do you make him see that it's not acceptance of what said ex did, and it doesn't mean you're not still 100% on your son's side, but you can't bring yourself to hold a grudge against a lost and lonely seventeen year old? How did he, a single dad to one kid, come to find himself feeling responsible for the conduct and development of four young men? How did the 'simple' task of parenting turn into this?

* * *

He knew before opening the door on a snowy Saturday morning in early January, who he would find on the other side. It had taken months to initially convince Blaine that he didn't have to knock on the door every time he came over. At some point after things had gotten serious between his son and Blaine (and he preferred not to dwell too much on what 'serious' meant), the boy had finally adapted to the casual atmosphere in their house. After they broke up, he started knocking again, as if unsure of his welcome no matter how often he was told to just let himself in. Even taking him to New York over Christmas -- when Burt thought they'd really bonded -- hadn't convinced him to stop knocking.

"Mornin'," he greeted shortly. "Sam said you were coming over."

"Yes, sir." There was that formality again.

"Some kind of fund-raiser for Glee?" he asked, shutting the door.

"Yes, sir. We need to raise $400 for the bus to Regionals." Blaine unwrapped his scarf as he spoke, and started on the buttons of his coat.

"So what's the plan? Another bake sale? You two plan on taking over my kitchen?"

He grinned as he tried to picture it. Sam was almost as hopeless as Finn in the kitchen, capable of making toast or microwaving frozen food but that was about it. Blaine was a little better -- he'd been coerced into sous chef duty while dating Kurt -- but Burt wasn't sure how well he'd do without supervision. "Maybe you should ask Carole if she can help you two out. And I'm telling you now, if you pull a Puckerman and I catch you slipping anything extra in--"

"We're not doing a bake sale," Blaine stopped him quickly. "Sam didn't tell you?"

"The Men of McKinley Calendar!" Sam said from the stairs, striking an exaggerated pose.

"A calendar? Well, it's worked for others in the past." Burt grinned, remembering. "What is it you boys need to work on exactly?"

"Concepts," Blaine answered. "How we're going to pose, what we're going to wear, what sort of background to use."

"So let's get to it! C'mon up, bro!" Sam was already heading back up the stairs.

Burt chuckled as he went to grab his own coat and head to the garage. It was really nice to have Finn around to help out, as he'd often go in early to open the shop or stay late to close, allowing Burt more downtime than he'd had for years. But it was still his business and he was still there to oversee it the majority of the time. He looked up as laughter carried down the stairs. After so many years with just him and Kurt, it was nice to have his house this full, too.

* * *

"C'mere kid, I want to show you something before we go." He beckoned Blaine into the living room as soon as he came in. "I never showed Kurt this; I'd forgotten about it till you boys started talking about doing your own." He picked it up and flipped to the back page, handing it over.

The boy's eyes grew wide as he took in the picture. "Mr. Hummel, is this... you?"

"It's Burt, kid, how many times do I have to say it? And yeah, it's me. Don't sound so surprised. I was your age once too, you know."

Blaine laid the calendar flat on the coffee table, leaning over to scrutinize it more closely. "You were Mr. December, like me," he mused. He looked up. "What was this for?"

"Fund-raiser for the football team. McKinley isn't a big school even now, but it was even smaller back then. Nothing was all that well funded through the school, so all the clubs and teams had to raise their own money."

"Did you pose for other months too?" Blaine asked, picking it up to flip through the pictures.

"No, just December. You have to consider that we had a lot more guys on the football team than you do in Glee."

"And none of you had any qualms about taking your shirt off, apparently," Blaine grinned, flipping through the pages. "Mr. July was pretty hot."

Burt closed his eyes in mortification. What else did he expect, showing a calendar full of shirtless young men to a gay seventeen year old? Okay, okay, he could be mature about this. No big deal.

"Who was July?" Burt asked, coming to look over Blaine's shoulder and hoping he came off casual.

"Some kid named Edward McVee?" Blaine turned the calendar to show him.

"Eddie Mac?"

"Is that what you guys called him back then?" The boy grinned, looking up at him. "Wait... Eddie Mac... why does that name sound familiar?"

Burt tugged on his cap, biding his time and wondering for a fleeting moment which of them was going to be more embarrassed.

"Eddie Mac works for me, kid. You've met him."

He could see him thinking, trying to remember which of the men it was... and then the moment when realization hit. Blaine dropped the calendar on the table and even stepped back from it as though afraid of what other secrets it might reveal.

"THAT guy?" he gasped. "With the, the potbelly and the comb over and the bad teeth? Plus he reeks of nicotine!" He shuddered.

Burt found himself, contrary to his expectation, amused by the reaction. "He's fifty years old, kid, whaddaya expect? Time takes its toll."

"Well, yeah, but... how did he get from--" Blaine gestured at the calendar still open on the table-- "to--" he mimed a large belly in front of himself, evidently out of words to express himself.

Burt snorted. "Bills to pay, sick kids to stay up all night with, a job you have to get up and go to every day whether you enjoy it or not...you really think you're going to be as pretty as you are now, after thirty years of that? Are any of you?"

A small smile appeared on the boy's face. "Well, Kurt might. He seems to think the usual rules don't apply to him."

"Yeah well, as much time as he spends pampering his skin, hiding from the sun, and eating health food, he just might look the same in three decades."

Evidently over the worst of the shock, Blaine picked up the calendar again, contemplating the picture of the eighteen year old Eddie Mac before flipping the pages back to December. He smirked before raising his eyes to meet Burt's.

"Can I just say, Mr. Hummel, that you definitely aged better than Eddie Mac." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, and oh dear Lord. He snatched the calendar and closed it, tossing it back on the table.

"You done embarrassing me for now? Can we just go to radiation, because I think that might be less uncomfortable than this."

Blaine swept his arm in a courtly gesture toward the door, inviting Burt to precede him. "Your chariot awaits."

Burt folded himself into the passenger side of the low-slung car so different from his own pickup truck. He'd offered to take his vehicle so they'd be burning his gas, but Blaine always insisted that he felt more comfortable driving his Prius. It made him feel ridiculous to be driven around by a teenager, but the clinic's rules required that all radiation patients be driven to and from treatment by someone else. It was most often Carole who took him, having re-arranged her work schedule as much as possible. Finn and Sam had both taken several turns at playing driver, and occasionally, when none of the others were available, Blaine would drive.

Burt had been hesitant to ask Blaine to join the driving rotation. He didn't want the teenager to feel that he had to do it because he owed anything to anyone, or was welcome at the house only if he contributed in some way. It was Carole who'd reminded him that the boy had offered repeatedly to help in any way he could.

"You know he promised you -- and Kurt -- that he'd keep an eye on you. So let him help sometimes, it makes him feel like he's keeping his promise. And that goes for the rest of us too. Let us help out. You're used to being the strong one who has to hold everyone else together. But you're not a single parent anymore, with a little kid to look after by yourself. You have this extended family, whether you got them by blood, marriage, or by choice, who loves you and wants to help. So let us help." He'd hugged her, grateful beyond speaking because at that moment, it truly hit him how lucky he was with his family -- all of them.

"We're here," Blaine said, and he looked out the window to realize it was true. He'd been lost in his musings for the entire drive. He signed in with the receptionist and was told that he'd have a short wait.

Blaine was already seated and engrossed in his iPhone as Burt sat next to him.

"Kurt says hi," Blaine reported. "He's about to go into his next class and doesn't have time to call, but he wants to know if you're sticking to your recommended diet plan."

"Doesn't have time to call, but has time to nag me through you, via text," Burt groused.

"He said to tell you he'll call tonight to see how you're feeling."

"And I'll tell him I'm fine, because I am. I don't feel sick at all; even the radiation hasn't given me any of the side effects I was warned about."

"That's great," Blaine said easily. "Kurt's still going to check on you."

"And how often does he nag you for reports?" Burt asked, slouching low in his chair and letting his cap slide over his eyes. May as well relax, he'd learned that 'short wait' could mean five minutes or forty-five.

"Oh, just every day. I don't mind. I'm just really glad he's talking to me again."

"You two will be okay, kid."

"You really think so?" There was too much hope in his voice, an echo of how he used to sound when he first came to Burt's house, when he soaked up any little bit of attention or positive feedback as if he'd been starved for it for years.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know if you'll ever get back together like you were before, that's up to you two, nothing to do with me. But I think you’ll always be friends. You'll have your ups and downs and things probably won't turn out how you expect, but you'll be okay."

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans?" Blaine asked, and without lifting his cap to look Burt could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, exactly." Silence for a moment except for the muted noise of clinic operations and the clicking of Blaine's phone. There was something familiar about what the boy had just said, he felt he'd heard it before but couldn't place it. He could almost look across the jumbled attic of his memory and spot the box it was in, but he wasn't able to reach it for all the other boxes in between. "Was that a quote from something?" he finally asked.

"What?"

"That thing you just said, were you quoting something?"

"Uh, yeah. 'Beautiful Boy', it's a John Lennon song."

Of course. "Lizzie used to sing it to Kurt."

"He always said he got his voice from her."

"Wasn't from me, that's for sure."

Quiet huff of laughter and more clicking.

"His mom must have been really special. I mean, he still talks about her a lot."

"Does he?" He finally raised his head to look at Blaine.

"Well, yeah. Doesn't he?"

"Not so much to me anymore. On certain occasions, like her birthday, or Mother's Day, or the date she died, of course. But aside from that...I kinda thought, with him getting a step-mom, maybe that filled the hole a little, y'know? And he finally found his place at school with the Glee Club, and you, and now he's living the big city life... I just figured he doesn't think about her as much anymore."

Blaine's eyes were steady on his. "He does. I think... that he's always trying to make both of you proud."

"I am proud of him, and Lizzie would be too, if she were here. Sometimes I wonder how Kurt would have turned out different if his mom had lived. But then, I'd never have met Carole, and wouldn't have brought Finn into the family... might not have you or Sam around either." He shrugged, and adjusted his cap. "I never in a million years would have wanted to lose Lizzie, but I can't imagine my life right now being any different than it is either. I told ya kid, you never know how your life will turn out."

"You mean I might have a pot belly and a bad comb-over in thirty years?" His eyes widened in exaggerated horror.

"Still on about that?"

"I may never recover from the trauma," Blaine answered solemnly.

Burt was laughing when a nurse called him for his treatment, earning him a perplexed look. Maybe they didn't have many patients who laughed at they went into the radiation room. He waited through the treatment, which was tedious more than anything, then went to find Blaine still in the waiting room.

"Ready?" he asked. He was still tapping away at his phone. Just how long could today's teenager spend on one of those things, he wondered. He could barely manage to text.

"You're so lucky," a cracked voice came from his right. He turned to the speaker, an elderly woman leaning on the walker in front of her even though she was seated. A white-haired man who he assumed was her husband sat next to her. "You have your son to drive you to your appointments, that's so nice. So many young kids these days, they don't want to take the time for their families," she said severely.

Burt glanced at Blaine who'd finally looked up from his gadget.

"Oh, I'm just helping out, I'm not--"

"I am," Burt interrupted, directing it toward the couple. "I'm very lucky in my family. Have a good day. Let's go, kid." He turned to leave and from the corner of his eye, saw Blaine gaping at him for a moment before he followed.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't feel sick and I'm not even feeling any of the side effects they said I might have. You're stressing yourself out over nothing, kid." Burt reclined on the bed, back against the headboard.

"I've been reading up on this, and apparently some of the side effects don't show up till long after treatment's over, years even." Kurt's voice was getting higher as the conversation went on, a sure sign of stress.

Burt laughed. "Yeah, I read the same stuff. But you know what? That's something that might happen years down the road, or might not, and I'm not going to waste time thinking about it. And I don't want you to, either." He looked up as Carole entered from the bathroom, his eyes following her around the bedroom as she went through her nighttime routine. "Actually, that reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh my God, the last time you led with a line like that, you told me you had cancer. Did you get bad news from your doctor today? Is it spreading?"

"Kurt." He waited for his tone of voice to get through to his son. "I haven't told you to shut up many times in your life, but I'm saying to you now -- shut up and let me talk."

"Okay." He sounded sufficiently subdued.

"It goes back to that conversation we had at the diner, when I told you about the diagnosis. Do you remember what you said?"

"That I was going to be sick?"

"After that. You said something about reaching your destiny, and me maybe not being here to see it?"

"Yeah. I remember."

"The thing is, and this is what I want to say to you, I don't want you to ignore today and all the great things you have in your life now, because you're always thinking the future's going to be so much better. I'm not saying not to make plans, and pursue goals; I know you'll do that anyway. But no matter how many plans you make, life is gonna throw you curve balls, and you'll look back ten or twenty years from now and realize that your life turned out different than you expected. Mine's sure different than I imagined, but... now I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled at Carole as she sat next to him, and reached out a hand for hers. There was a long silence from the other end. "Kurt? You still there?"

"Yeah. I just... I'm not sure what to say. You don't usually get this philosophical, Dad."

He snorted. "Well, I told ya -- this is the third time I'm staring death down. If that doesn't make a person stop and think, I don't know what will. Well, that and an old calendar, and an older song."

"OK, now you're just getting weird."

He laughed again. "Ask Blaine next time you talk to him." He paused. "You two are still talking, right?"

"Yeah. Not sure where that will go, but..."

"That's okay. Just enjoy it for whatever it is right now, and enjoy the life you have now, you hear me?"

"So... no day but today?"

"Yeah, that might sum it up. Why do I think you were quoting something?"

Now he could hear the smile in Kurt's voice. "Ask Blaine next time you talk to him."

"I'll do that. G'night, Kurt."

"G'night, Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

He hung up the phone and looked at his wife next to him. "Hope I didn't freak him out too much. I just... felt like I needed to say it, y'know?"

She nodded. "What brought this on, though? You got your diagnosis over a month ago, why getting all thoughtful about life now?"

"I showed Blaine high school pictures of me and some of my old football buddies today. One of them he knows -- Eddie who works in my garage for me?" She nodded. "Kid couldn't believe the changes from high school to now, it got me thinking... no one finishes high school having any idea what life holds for them. They might think they know, but they don't." He shrugged. "Just don't want any of our boys to get too stuck thinking they know how life should turn out."

"Hmmm." She was quiet for a moment. "So... would this be the 1979 calendar that I found on the coffee table downstairs?" He froze. "I found you in there," she grinned. "So, ummm... what happened to that hunky eighteen year old who posed for December?"

* * *

"Alright, let's see it!" Carole announced loudly as she came into the kitchen. The boys were pillaging the refrigerator, pantry, and cabinets for snacks as Burt watched from his seat at the table, wondering if they'd have any food left for dinner. Finn -- who Burt couldn't help but still think of as a boy -- was a bottomless pit all by himself. With him and Sam back to living in the house full time and Blaine visiting several times a week, it had never been so hard to keep the kitchen supplied.

"See what?" Sam asked around a mouthful of potato chips.

"Your calendar!"

"Umm, it's not here yet." Blaine turned from the counter where he was dipping pita chips into hummus. Carole bought it just for him, since neither of the other boys would touch it. "Being delivered next week."

"Liar." She swatted him over the head, and he immediately smoothed his hair down again. "They were delivered yesterday."

"Finn!" both of them accused.

"What? It's not like it was a secret!" Finn carried a triple-decker sandwich over to the table and sat next to Burt. With most kids he would caution that they were ruining their dinner, but he knew from experience that it wasn't possible with his stepson.

"But dude... c'mon," Sam appealed to Finn. "It's not like we want to show those pictures to your mom."

"At least you kept your shirt on," Blaine said to him.

"You did?" both adults asked, then looked at each other and laughed.

"What's the big deal?" Sam shrugged before opening the refrigerator, obviously avoiding looking at them. "It's not like I don't wear a shirt every day."

"Well, yeah... but it's not like you have a problem taking it off, either." Burt grinned, careful to keep the jab brief. Finn had told them in private what Sam had been doing to help support his family in Kentucky, but neither of them had mentioned it to the boy since they didn't want to embarrass him. It was true though, that Sam had no qualms about walking around the house shirtless after a workout or if he was about to jump into the pool. "So why'd you keep your shirt on for the calendar shoot?"

"'Er aree," Finn said with his mouth full.

"Finn Hudson, swallow before you speak and remember the manners I've spent my life trying to teach you!"

He swallowed quickly, flinching under his mother's glare. "Sorry. I said, he did it for Artie." He stopped to drink and then continued in response to their questioning looks. "Well, Artie didn't want to take his shirt off, because he's not as built as the rest of the guys. And he said any picture of him would really just be a picture of his wheelchair, and being the only one to keep his shirt on would just draw more attention to him being different. So Sam volunteered to keep his shirt on, so Artie wouldn't be the only one wearing clothes."

"You did him solid with that one," Burt said to Sam after a pause. He only shrugged dismissively.

"You did... though I hope that the rest of the boys had at least some clothes on," Carole said pointedly to Blaine.

"Yes ma'am... completely modest, I swear."

"Maybe not completely," Finn muttered, but Burt was pretty sure he was the only one who heard him.

"So where is it?"

"Umm..."

"Don't think you've distracted me, I want to see it." A long moment of silence, before Carole employed her mom voice. "Finn."

He sighed. "In my bag by the door."

In the moment following the mad scramble of the three of them exiting the room, Finn shook his head. "Don't know why they're acting all embarrassed, the whole reason you make a calendar is for people to look at it."

"Huh. I heard the boys talking about the costumes and backgrounds. You're really trying to tell me that you wouldn't be embarrassed to have your mom see you shirtless and wearing pumpkin shorts? Or Easter bunny ears?"

"Well, at least it's not their mom," he said as he blushed. Burt thought that Carole might as well be, as prominent as she was in both boys' lives right now, but he bit his tongue. He listened for a moment to the scuffling noises and protests coming from the other room, then a threat to withhold dinner, followed by obedient silence. He leaned over to Finn and said quietly, "You did save one of those calendars like I asked, right?"

"Yeah. If the McKinley girls' reactions are anything to go by, Kurt's really going to like January and December."

Carole came back into the kitchen, brandishing the new calendar. "Got it!" she crowed. "They both ran off upstairs before I could open it in front of them, they suddenly remembered a big science project they're supposed to be working on."

Finn scraped his chair back as he stood up, taking his plate with him. "I'm outta here too, I don't need to watch you perv on high school boys, Mom."

She gave him a friendly punch on his way by as he hurried out. "That's one way to clear the room," Burt commented, as she brought the calendar over to the table. She flipped the pages, both of them laughing at the ridiculous costumes and poses, teenage boys trying too hard to be sexy and cute at the same time, not sure if they wanted to be boys or men.

"Some of these boys really aren't wearing much. I wonder what their parents are saying about this." Carole kept turning pages till she got to December, and yeah, Kurt was going to like that one. "Oh Burt... look what he did."

He looked at the picture again. Blaine had pulled his Santa pants down so low around his hips that it bordered on inappropriate, but Burt didn't see anything that would have put that fond note into his wife's voice.

"You don't recognize the pose, with one foot up on a gift box? Think back thirty years."

He looked again. "That little brat stole my pose! Shouldn't I get royalties for that?"

* * *

December 28, 2013

"There was one present that we all wanted to give you together," Kurt said. He handed over a square flat box, wrapped carefully in tasteful wrapping that he knew only his son could have chosen.

"Yeah, we waited till Sam could come visit, so he'd be here too," Finn contributed.

Burt opened the lid and lifted the tissue paper, revealing a 2014 calendar. The cover showed all of them -- himself, Carole, Kurt, Finn, Blaine, and Sam -- around a picnic table. He recognized it as being from the end-of-summer cookout they'd hosted before sending all the boys and their friends off for the 2013 fall semester. He looked up quickly at the eager faces watching him, and lifted the calendar out of the tissue paper to open it.

"It was Blaine's idea," Sam told him.

He turned the pages, trying not to get misty-eyed at all the images that they'd obviously put a lot of thought into choosing. February showed himself and Carole in Hawaii on their long-delayed honeymoon. March had various pictures of the boys helping him out in the shop while they were home for spring break. May, Kurt's birth month, was his twenty-years-younger self in the delivery room, holding his newborn son next to Lizzie. June had two pictures -- himself and Carole with their sons as they graduated in 2012, then a matching picture of them with Blaine and Sam in 2013. July and August were both a collage of photos from the summer, the boys and all their friends hanging out at the backyard pool and more from that last cookout before they all went back to school. October was the house decorated for Halloween, with smaller picture insets of the boys showing how they'd each celebrated at their scattered locations. November was the predictable family picture around the dinner table. Sam hadn't been there, but Finn and Kurt had both made it home for the holiday and Blaine joined them for dinner as well. December was... Burt was weakening, tears almost falling, as he looked at a picture from the previous Christmas. All of them were seated in front of the tree, wearing the new clothes they'd just received or holding various gifts, leaning in close together for the camera. There was an inset of Burt from 1979 in that ridiculous Christmas pose, and a caption that read, "Mr. December... Then and Now."

He looked up at a quiet clattering, to see Carole sitting down a tray of steaming mugs. Apple cider, from the smell of it. She passed a mug to him with a smile, while everyone else took one for themselves.

"I propose a toast," Blaine said, lifting his mug formally. "To Burt Hummel, who we all owe debts to, and this amazing family he and Carole have taken care of for the past few years. To..." he looked at Burt, his eyes twinkling. "To Mr. December, then and now."

"Here, here!" Carole exclaimed, holding her mug up. "To Mr. December!"

They all tapped their cups. "Mr. December."

"Merry Christmas, Dad." Kurt leaned down to give him a hug.

"From me too," said Blaine, and he accepted a hug from him as well. Over his shoulder he could see that Finn and Sam were just waiting their turns, and he caught Carole's eye, seeing her pride that he felt as well, that they'd helped raise four such amazing young men. He still wondered how the simple task of parenting had turned into this.

* * *

#glee #glee family fic #klaine in background #hudmel family #burt hummel #blaine anderson #carole hudson hummel #kurt hummel #sam evans #finn hudson

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kurts-still-here · 3 years

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What’s Love? Glee TOT Challenge FanFiction

@celery-elliry @useless-fanfictions @gleethisorthatchallenge

Hi everyone, this is my fourth fic for the Glee TOT Challenge and the prompt I choose was Platonic Love because I have way to many Kurt ships that I love but even if Kurt can't love all of them as a partner, he can love them as a friend :) Hope everyone enjoys and tells me what they thought of it etheir on here, A03 OR FanFiction.Net. Happy reading 🤗🤗😁😁

Archive Of Our Own

FanFiction.Net

Mercedes

“I’m gay,” Kurt admitted to Mercedes, tears in his eyes. She was the first person he had ever told and this was the first time he had ever admitted it out loud.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Mercedes asked sympathetically.

“Because I’ve... never told anyone actually,” Kurt shrugged.

“You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are, Kurt,” She told him, shaking her head. “You should just tell people. Especially the kids in glee. The whole point of the club is about expressing what’s really inside you. Remember?”

“I can’t,” Kurt said, ashamed of himself. “I’m just not that confident, I guess,”

He started to walk away from her with his head held high but then he turned around to look at her again.

“But I still love you Mercedes,” He told her, the tears streaming down his face. “You’re the first friend I’ve ever made as pathetic as that sounds. I just want you to know that,”

“Of course boo,” Mercedes smiled. “I love you too, I guess just a little bit more than you love me. But I’ll get over it,”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt apologized. “I shouldn't have lied to you. I’ve just had a lot of trouble… ya know… accepting it,”

“You don’t have to explain yourself or apologize Kurt,” Mercedes assured him. “You are who you are and you like who you like and I’m not mad at you at all for that. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me. Thank you,”

“Okay,” Kurt said quietly before turning around and walking away from her.

He had known he was different for a long time now and he had discovered he was gay not long after but he knew how the LGBT+ community was viewed in his community. It wasn’t approved of and he got enough harassment for his voice and choices of clothing, he couldn’t imagine what he would have to endure if he came out to the public. He just couldn’t do it yet. He was hoping that maybe one day people would be more accepting of gay people or that he would gather enough courage to not think of what they thought but he wasn’t there yet. He wasn’t necessarily ashamed of himself but he wasn’t proud either. He felt like a coward for hiding who he really was, especially from his dad. He was just scared of how his dad would react. He loved him so much and he didn’t want to ruin their relationship in the case that he wouldn’t accept him. He would do it eventually though because he didn’t want to hide the real him from the person he loved most in the world

Finn

Both boys were sitting in the basement on the couch watching a movie together. Finn had his arm wrapped around Kurt’s shoulder and they were snuggled close together. Finn’s behavior seemed a little weird to Kurt seeing that Finn usually avoided physical contact with him but he just brushed it off thinking that Finn was just trying to make up for the “faggy lamp incident”. Besides Kurt didn’t exactly hate the hug, it felt nice.

The credits started rolling on the movie and Finn turned to face Kurt.

“That was nice,” Finn said with a goofy smile on his face.

“Yeah it was,” Kurt smiled back. “Do you want to watch another one?”

“Sure,” Finn said, his expression changing to a pained look. “Wait though. Before we do I want to talk to you,”

“Okay. What is it?” Kurt asked. “I hope it’s nothing bad,”

“No no, nothing bad,” Finn said, getting nervous. At least I hope you don’t think it’s bad,”

“Well just tell me Finn,” Kurt encouraged him. “Chances are I won’t judge you,”

“Okay, here goes nothing,” Finn said. “I’m just going to come out and say this but… I think I’m gay,”

“Oh,” Kurt said, his eyes widening. “That’s great Finn. I’m glad you told me. So who’s the lucky guy?”

“Um… you?” Finn said, looking down at his hands.

“Me?” Kurt breathed.

“Yeah, I don’t know, it’s just I feel like I love anyone. Like I liked Quinn before the baygate thing because she was pretty and I like Rachel because she’s nice to me and because she’s pretty and then I like you because you’re really nice and you don’t think I’m stupid and you’re pretty cute but then I like Puck because he’s my bro and he has nice muscles and abs and… I don’t know… it’s frustrating,” Finn sighed, turning red.

“It sounds like you’re bisexual,” Kurt told him. “It means you're attracted to both genders,”

“Oh, so I’m not crazy,” Finn said to himself, making Kurt laugh. “I also like it when you laugh. I like it when you’re happy and I’m sorry about you’re lamp,”

“Finn, you don’t have to apologize to me again. I know you’re sorry,” Kurt assured him, still blushing from Finn’s comment.

“But I do,” Finn groaned, frustrated with himself. “I was a real douche and it wasn’t fair to you and I was just angry because I couldn’t accept myself like you can,”

“Well you’re accepting yourself now,” Kurt told him. “By telling me,”

“I guess so,” Finn shrugged. “But what do you think? About… me,”

“Oh,” Kurt said, his face turning from pink to white. “Finn you know I love you but I think it’s just… as a friend or as a brother,”

“Oh,” Finn said, tears coming to his eyes. “That’s fine,”

“Finn it’s not you trust me,” Kurt said, placing his hand on Finn’s arm. “Any guy or girl would be lucky to have you, including me. It’s just that I’m not that lucky guy. You’ll find someone better,”

“Nah I don’t think I will,” Finn said, quickly wiping his tears. “I mean I ruined things with Quinn and then with Rachel and I’m pretty sure Puck’s straight so you were kind of my last hope, not to make you feel bad. I think I should… I should just go,”

“Finn please don’t do this,” Kurt begged him as Finn stood up. “Let’s just talk about this, I don’t want you to be mad at me,”

“No I’m not mad Kurt,” Finn told him. “I just need some time to myself. But I’m sorry that I told you all of this. And I’m sorry you don’t love me back,”

“Finn you don’t have to apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Kurt said, wiping the tears that were now on his face too. “And I do love you, you’re my friend,”

“You know what I mean Kurt,” Finn said with a sad smile. “But it’s fine really, don’t worry about it. And thanks for clearing the bi thing up for me, it means a lot to me,”

“Your welcome,” Kurt whispered as Finn went up the stairs. He had just ruined a friendship that he really cherished but he would’ve ruined it even more if he told Finn that he loved him when he really didn’t. Sure there was the little crush that he had had on him a couple of months ago but it had faded and now he saw Finn as nothing more than a friend. He just didn’t know what love really felt like, what the difference between romantic love and platonic love really was. Yes he loved his dad and Carol and Mercdes and the rest of the glee club but as friends and family, not as partners. Love was complicated, it was messy and Kurt was still trying to come to terms with being gay and accepting himself, he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet.

Puck

The New Directions were over at the Hudmel house for a get together and Kurt was in the kitchen, gathering snacks for everyone when Puck walked with that smirk that he always wore on his face.

“Hey babe,” He said, looking down at Kurt's ass. “You need any help?”

“I’m good Noah,” Kurt said, annoyed. Was Puck so desperate now that he was flirting with boys? “And since when am I babe?”

“Since this,” Puck said before walking up to Kurt, taking him by surprise and kissing him hard on the lips. Kurt didn’t know what to do since Puck had a strong grip on him so he just stayed leaned back with Puck’s lips on his until Noah came back up for some air.

“So what did you think?” Puck asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did I blow you’re gay little mind?”

“Um… no?” Kurt said in a questioning tone. “I just… are you gay?”

“Yeah something like that,” Puck said, waving his hand in the air. “I think I like anything but I forget what it’s called,”

“You mean your pan, pansexual?” Kurt asked. “You don’t care about gender or gender identity. It actually makes a lot of sense,”

“Well anyway,” Puck interrupted, frowning. “Do you love me?”

“Noah, I'm not doing this right now,” Kurt said, shaking his head. It was Finn and Mercedes all over again. “We’re friends and that’s probably all we’ll ever be. I guess I could say I love you but as a friend, not as a lover. I’m not ready for a relationship yet,”

“But you had a crush on Finn?” Puck pointed out. “What gives?”

“Like you said, it was a crush that went away. And unlike you Finn was nice to me but I doubt I ever had romantic feelings for him in any way. I’ve already had this conversation with him,” Kurt explained.

“Wait so Finn’s gay too?” Puck asked. “I might have to tap that,”

“Actually you should, he likes you.” Kurt said. “Something about your muscles and abs,”

“But what do you think about my muscles and abs babe?” Puck asked with a mischievous smile. “Isn’t it hot?”

“Sure,” Kurt said sarcastically. “But like I said Noah, I’m flattered, I really am but the answer is no,”

“Fine then,” Puck huffed. “But trust me, I’m not going to give up so easily. One day you’ll be begging for me to take you and I’ll make you suffer and wait,”

“God do you always have to be so cheesy?” Kurt asked. “It makes me sick,”

“You know you love it Princess,” Puck yelled back at him as he walked back into the living room with everyone else.

“Yeah right,” Kurt said under his breath as he gathered up all the trays of food and brought them out to the living room. This was the third time now and if he hadn’t loved Finn in that way then he definitely didn’t love Puck in that. He sighed as he placed everything out on the table before rubbing his face with his hands in exhaustion.

“Are you okay Kurt?” Quinn asked him.

“I’m fine,” Kurt said, smiling at the group. Then he saw Puck’s smirk again and decided that he needed some space. “I just… forgot something upstairs in my room. I’ll be back,”

He left the room and walked upstairs before walking into his room and closing the door behind him, sinking down against the door. It shouldn’t bother him so much but it did. There were three people now that had “loved” and he didn’t love them back. It just made him wonder if he was ever going to find true love at all and if he was ever even going to know what love felt like.

Sam

“I love you,” Sam admitted and Kurt internally groaned. Not again.

“Sam,” Kurt started to say but Sam interrupted him, taking Kurt’s hands in his.

“Shh, don’t say anything and just let me explain,” Sam said but this time Kurt interpreted him.

“Sam, you’re my friend, god I say that a lot,” He added sarcastically. “But I’m not ready for a relationship right now. I love you platonically and that’s that. Please don’t make me feel even worse than I already do by trying to persuade me into going out with you. I’ve been through this plenty of times before,”

Sam looked down, ashamed and disappointed and now Kurt wished that he would say something instead of just looking defeated.

“Hey don’t be upset Sam please,” Kurt begged him. “It’s not you, you’re perfect and I’m really flattered but I’m still figuring things out for myself and it wouldn’t be fair to you to be with me when I not sure of anything,”

“No I get it,” Sam said, looking up at Kurt with tears in his eyes. God, why did they always have to cry?” “Really I do it’s just that you’re so nice and cute and I had the stupid idea that maybe you’d like me too but it’s stupid really. And I guess I’m not really sure about anything either. I don’t know what I am, if I’m bi or if I just like boys. It’s hard,”

“I know it is,” Kurt assured him, rubbing Sam’s back. “Trust me, I knew I was gay since I was six years old and I’m still trying to fully accept myself. But you aren’t alone Sam. I’m here if you ever want to talk and Finn and Puck seem like they have whatever’s going on with them figured out so you can talk to them too. We’re all here for you,”

“I know,” Sam said, smiling at Kurt and wiping his tears. “Thanks,”

“You’ll find someone,” Kurt told him, giving Sam a hug. “But just remember you come first,”

“Yeah, I will,” Sam told him, returning the hug.

Kurt told himself that what he told Sam also applied to him. He was going to figure out what love really felt like and he was going to find someone that loved him and someone who loved him back. He had to, he wanted to know the feeling. Now just wasn’t the right time and once again, he had to put himself first.

Blaine

“I love you,” Blaine said dreamily, staring at Kurt with his handsome eyes and making Kurt choke on his coffee a little. Why does this always happen to me?

Blaine still had his eyes on Kurt and was waiting for Kurt to respond with an “I love you too,” so Kurt was relieved when Mercedes and Sam walked in with one another making Blaine turn around.

“Oh hey, what are you guys doing here?” Blaine asked, having moved on from the previous discussion.

“I’m just getting a coffee,” Sam said, swaying back and forth on his feet.

“Yeah we ran into each other in the parking lot,” Mercedes added. ‘Hmm, sure you did,’ Kurt thought to himself he had noticed how smiley they were acting towards each other lately. They were in love and Kurt was happy for them, especially since they had both had a crush on him and now they had each other. At least Sam now knew that he was bi and they both had their love lives together. It was more than he could say for himself.

Blaine started talking about his summer plans with them while Kurt tried to figure out what he was going to say about Blaine’s “I love you,” when Mercedes and Sam walked away and Blaine turned his focus back onto Kurt.

“Hey cutie,” He smiled again.

“Umm. hi,” Kurt said nervously. “I’m really sorry Blaine but I just remembered that I promised my dad that I would help him… at the garage so we’re going to have to cut this coffee date short,”

“Oh yeah,” Blaine said, wearing a smile even though Kurt could tell he was disappointed. “That’s okay. A promise is a promise,”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, standing up and grabbing his cup and bag. “See you later,”

He then rushed out of the coffee shop and with his luck of course it was raining outside. He started crying. He liked Blaine, that’s why they were dating and he had spent so long pining after him and now he was going to ruin the good thing going on between them because he couldn’t say three simple words. I love you. Of course he could say them but he just didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to say those words and then have it turn out that he didn’t love Blaine and ruin their friendship. He loved Blaine but… once again, maybe it was just platonic. And maybe he just wasn’t meant to love anyone.

Elliot

“I love you,” Kurt found himself saying to Elliot once they reached his apartment. They had been really good friends for a while now and Elliot had just taken him out on their first date to a nice restaurant.

“Like as a friend or as more?” Elliot asked, obviously joking with a smile on his face. Elliot knew how Kurt had felt about love and partners in the past and had been patient with him even though he loved Kurt romantically.

“I think… as more,” Kurt confessed. “I’m really nervous and have a weird feeling in my stomach, not like I’m sick or anything but...I think I love you Elliot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and for once...I think I honestly know exactly how I feel about someone,”

They paused for a moment, Kurt with tears of joy in his eyes before Elliot leant in and kissed Kurt. And Kurt had only been kissed twice before, once by Puck and once by Blaine but when he kissed Elliot he felt a spark of energy between them and he knew he loved him, the feeling was confirmed.

When they pulled away from each other, they held each other’s hands and Kurt had never been happier in his life before. He had spent a huge part of his life worrying that he would never find someone who felt the same way as he did, who he loved and here he was, he had finally found Elliot. It all felt amazing.

#glee #glee fanfiction #kurt hummel #elliot starchild gilbert #kelliot

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daisyishedwig · 2 years

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Klaine fic readers HELP

Okay, so I was just thinking about one my favorite fanfictions and after searching for it for a while, I finally found a link to it... but it was on ff.net and it has been yeeted into the abyss.

So... does anyone per chance have a working link and/or a pdf of the Pet!Blaine verse by DareU2BeMe, because it isn’t on AO3, and fanfiction.net is the devil.

Here’s a further description of the fanfic to jog anyone’s memory along with the names of the fics in this series as well as the dead ff.net links.

Pet!Blaine Verse by DareU2Bme (M)

Blaine is a person with a genetically inherited, severely low IQ. In this world, these individuals are often kept as pets. Blaine is the Hudmel family’s pet, and seems to have developed an obsession with Kurt. Blaine’s infatuation is adorable, but Kurt has to figure out how to deal with this sudden and inappropriate love interest. Pay attention to the author’s notes before you read, because it is definitely not your average love story, but it is a heartwarming one. Man’s Best Friend: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7744556/1/Man-s-Best-Friend Why I Feel This Way: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7838026/1/Why-I-Feel-This-Way Prompts: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8148548/1/MBF-Pet-Blaine-Stories

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #pet!blaine

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nancysgillians · 4 years

Note

17-29 for Glee ask meme!! 💜

Oh wow ok thank you! I hope this is not too annoying to answer all of these in one go. You indulge me so @gorgxoxus 💖

17) Favorite canon couple? I mean obviously Wemma. KIDDING. It’s Klaine.

18) Favorite noncanon couple? I answered with Pezberry for this earlier but I am also going to say that a very strong contender lately has been Quinntina and I blame @kuiinncedes and @personalgarbagepile for this burgeoning obsession. I want some collegiate Ivy League whirlwind romance story for them thank you. Where’s the fic?

19) Least favorite couple? You know what my absolute least fave couple was Wemma. Emma deserves better. Bring back Carl or make Holly/Emma happen. Hemma?

20) Best friendship duo? I think Blam’s friendship duo was the most fleshed out and I adore them but Kurtcedes will remain near and dear to my heart. 21) Best friendship trio? Kurtcheltana - we really could have had it all with them but we had to get a stupid subplot of funny girl understudy shenanigans to ruin everything. If you’ve followed me you know I reblog everything kurtcheltana. I think I have at least 15 posts with them in my drafts right now.

22) Least favorite friendship? Puck and Finn (enter your preferred mashup of their names here), they really only had a friendship when it was used for a plot device and I dunno I think they both deserved a better friend.

23) What ship is totally overrated? Hmmm an overrated ship is interesting, I answered underrated earlier (and below) and followed the underrated canon ships only rule so for this one I am doing the reverse. An overrated noncanon ship that I adore but can admit is a lot would be Faberry.

24) What ship is completely underrated? I answered this one earlier with Tike so I’ll say another ship that is canon and underrated is Wildebrams. They had something sweet that I liked and though I love Jenna and Kevin’s friendship I would have preferred a Tike and Wildebrams endgame if everyone has to follow the unrealistic you-must-fall-in-love-with-someone-from-highschool trope Glee loved so much.

25) Ship you used to like but now dislike? I genuinely used to like Quick and honestly I don’t know what flipped but rewatching the series this year twice I just found them blah and want Quinn to live her best life at Yale and not be tied down by her past. Plus as we know from above I am digging Quinntina Ivy League vibes.

26) Ship you used to dislike but now like? Hmm I am mostly an equal opportunity shipper but I used to dislike Samcedes bc the show ruined Sam so much and I think Mercedes deserves the world. Now I like the idea of them growing up and living these awesome lives in LA and Lima and then eventually getting together later in life. I don’t want them to have Finchel’s original endgame story but I wouldn’t be opposed to something where they are endgame but have really happy midgame romances, lives, and experiences.

27) Favorite family relationship? Is there any other answer but the Hudmels?!?! Burt and Carole are everyone’s parents and Finn and Kurt are a brother duo comedy goldmine.

28) Favorite mentor relationship? Listen, I loved Isabelle and Vogue.com as much as the next Kurt stan but I have to say that Isabelle wouldn’t challenge Kurt to soar. I think Carmen and Kurt would have been a kickass mentor relationship that the foundation was laid out for in the show but instead we have to give Rachel (523981738) chances and make me resent Carmen a little.

29) Best vocal duo? Darn this one is difficult because I think when Klaine get a good song or a line I am overjoyed at how they sound but its like 50/50 on if their vocals will be perfect. Meanwhile Artie and Mercedes (Artcedes?) are like everyone’s back up vocals and when they have a song or a section together it is PERFECTION. If you aren’t listening to Amber Riley’s or Kevin Mchale’s music you are sleeping on them. This was way too much fun, thank you! Send me a number/question!

#glee ask meme #glee #asks #gorgxoxus

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 10 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you knew of any fics where Blaine goes on a family vacation with Kurt and the Hudson-Hummels? I love that plotline and think it'd be cute. Thanks!

I'm struggling to find Blaine going with the Hudmels, apart from when they are married and have kids. Here's a plot when they are younger. Please recommend! ~ Jen

Camp - Summer of Klaine Part 1 by burntsugrr

Kurt and Blaine are newly dating. Burt allows Blaine to come along on a family camping trip and the boys deal with Kurt's intimacy issues

#klaine fanfiction #fic finder #one shot #vacation #burt hummel

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katyobsesses · 2 years

Text

03/11/2021 - 12:30pm

1576 words before lunch! I guess being unemployed has it's perks.

I'm really loving this Childhood Furt, Carole/Burt/Kurt's mom AU i've cooked up, apparently. I'm not looking foward to the middle bit of it, though, really not looking forward to that. I'm going to make myself cry, I already did writing the outline.

#katy writes nanowrimo 2021 #kwn21 03 #katy writes #untiled carole/burt/kathy fic #i am actullay looking forward to writing the middle bit #just not looking forward to crying about it #barole #barolebeth #maybe i should change Kathy's name to Elizabeth simply because that's the fanon name for Kurt's mom #but she's Katharine to me uhg #but I can't think of a shipname for the three of them using Kathy #i guess Hudmels would work but I'd confuse it with the family relationship #and barolebeth works really well #so...#eh i'll figure it out

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klainedreams34 · 4 years

Text

At the Twelfth Chime

KLAINETOBER THEME 1: CLASSIC HORROR MOVIES, DAY 1 PROMPT: MIDNIGHT

one-shot 15,398 words Kurt & Blaine (Glee) Characters from the 1959 version of House on Haunted Hill Notes: This fic contains spoilers for the aforementioned film. Thanks @grlnxtdr30!

There’s a reason you should never watch classic horror films at midnight. Of course, everyone has their own idea of what is considered a classic horror film. Such was the discussion between two teenage boys, alone in the house on one fateful Halloween night…

…

“Forget it Blaine, I am not watching a vampire movie!” Kurt cried, setting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table.

“Oh come on Kurt!” The other boy said. “Halloween is about being scared! That’s the whole point! And it’s fun to get scared!” He threw his hands up animatedly, deciding to use the puppy dog eyes on the other boy.

However, Kurt knew Blaine all too well. “Forget it Anderson,” he said. “I hate vampires.” He moved to pick through the DVD library to the side of the television.

Blaine shook his head. “You know if the rest of the Warblers were here, you’d totally be outnumbered,” he pointed out.

Kurt turned from the DVDs with one in his hand and raised a delicately shaped eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his face. “Really?” he asked, tone suggesting he didn’t believe it. Because when had a Warbler ever said no to him? He was irresistible. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing they aren’t.”

The curly haired boy tutted. “No, they rather keep trick or treating until late into the night,” he said.

His best friend shook his head and moved to put the DVD in the player. “I can’t believe anyone would still be passing out candy this late,” he said, grabbing the remote and flopping down on the couch.

Blaine shrugged, glancing at their own bags of candy resting in the armchair. They’d had more sense than the rest of the Warblers when it came to trying to trick or treat all night. Besides, Blaine couldn’t imagine spending Halloween without at least one horror movie viewing. But of course, the two boys had already watched a few. Now that it was nearing the bewitching hour, they’d decided to try and go scarier.

“What did you put in?” the curly haired boy asked, picking up the fresh bowl of popcorn and glancing at Kurt as he pressed play.

“A real classic,” the pale boy said with a slight grin. “House on Haunted Hill.”

The other boy frowned. “That’s not a classic,” he said.

Kurt grinned again. “Oh honey, I’m not referring to the more recent one. I’m referring to the original Vincent Price version.”

Blaine looked confused for a moment. “Wait, House on Haunted Hill was a remake?” he asked.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that,” Kurt said, setting the remote back on the coffee table after he selected the ‘play movie’ option on the screen. “I mean, you know more about classic movies than I do. I would have thought you would have known about the original House on Haunted Hill.”

“Huh, I must be losing my touch,” Blaine remarked, popping a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth and passing the bowl to Kurt.

The older boy just rolled his eyes before grabbing his own handful of popcorn and settling in to watch the movie.

It was just getting to the guests all being given their introduction to the party by Vincent Price’s character when the little hand on the clock above the mantle slid into place over the twelve. A low but audible bong hit the air, signaling it was midnight and Halloween was officially over. But as the two boys on the couch were about to discover, perhaps it wasn’t quite over for them. Not by a long shot.

…

Now we reach the point at which you will learn why you should never watch a classic horror film at midnight. But perhaps it was a smarter option that the two boys were watching the original House on Haunted Hill and not the original Thirteen Ghosts. Granted, this might have been due to the fact that Kurt’s family didn’t own the original Thirteen Ghosts, but in this case, that was a good thing. It was harder to outrun actual ghosts, than pretend ones.

But perhaps you should see for yourself exactly what was to happen to the boys. So without further ado, and no more interruptions, please read on.

…

Just as the last strike of midnight resounded in the living room of the Hudmel household, a scream erupted from the movie on the screen. Suddenly, there were several flashes from the lights in the room, already unusual because the boys had turned them off for the sake of a scarier atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” Blaine asked, glancing around the room.

Kurt clutched the popcorn bowl in his pale hands. He was an expert at hiding his fear, but Blaine was an expert at seeing it. “I don’t know,” the older boy replied, incidentally sliding closer to his friend.

That was when the movie on the screen turned to static and all other activity ceased to halt. The lights snapped off. And the only sound in the room was the static on the television. The crackling black and white snow-like image was like a blaring beacon of light in the middle of the ocean. Both boys froze, unable to tear their eyes from the screen.

Not even thirty seconds later, it shut off completely and a dead silence filled the room.

Kurt wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard Blaine speak from beside him. “Do you think it was a power outage?” he asked, voice uncharacteristically small. It sounded eerie in the complete darkness of the room.

Kurt shook his head before remembering Blaine couldn’t see him. He was still clutching the popcorn bowl in his hands. “No,” he said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. “The weather has been unusually good for this time of year.”

If the pale boy could see his friend, he would have noted his eyes widening in fear. “You don’t think someone cut the power and is trying to break in, do you?” he asked.

The older boy swallowed. “No,” he said, trying to sound as though he believed it. That was easier said than done. “That wouldn’t explain flickering lights.” He was right. Even if the lights had been on, they wouldn’t have flickered like that. “I should go get a candle,” he said next, moving to set the bowl down on the coffee table.

“Can’t we just use our phones?” Blaine pleaded, not wanting Kurt to leave him.

He didn’t want to admit it aloud, but Kurt had a dreaded feeling that their phones wouldn’t work either. However, relaying it to Blaine suddenly became the least of his problems.

“Where is my phone?” the curly haired boy suddenly asked.

Kurt went still. “What are you talking about? Isn’t it in your pocket?” This time, it was nearly impossible to keep the tremble out of his voice.

This time, it was Blaine who shook his head before remembering the other boy couldn’t see him. “No, but…it was there when we started the movie.”

“Are you saying your phone just up and disappeared?” Kurt asked. He wasn’t sure if the thought scared him or not. It was an unbelievable idea, but so far, this night had suddenly turned unbelievable, with lights that hadn’t even been on flickering and the television going staticy and shutting off on its own. That particularly sounded kind of like something out of Poltergeist and Kurt found himself glad they hadn’t chosen to watch that one. That might have been even worse.

Wait, was he actually considering the movie had anything to do with this? That was silly.

Blaine’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “Yes,” he muttered. Kurt could hear the other boy patting himself down. Thank God they’d changed out of their costumes when they’d gotten home.

The notion of Blaine’s phone missing suddenly had the boy moving again and Kurt reached over to search for his own phone on the table beside his end of the couch. Only to discover…

“The table’s missing.” He jerked his hand back almost immediately.

“What?” Blaine asked. Kurt could hear his friend scramble closer and felt the boy kneel across him. He was just glad it was pitch dark and Blaine couldn’t see the blush that covered his pale face.

Blaine stuck his hand out and found himself swiping through air. Where there had been a table a few minutes before, there was suddenly nothing.

“Kurt,” Blaine said in a small quiet voice. “I think we better go get that candle.” He slid off the couch and offered his hand. “Take my hand.”

The blush on Kurt’s face deepened as he reached out and took a hold of Blaine’s hand. Now was not the time to be thinking about crushes or how he was head over heels for his best friend. Now was the time to stick together and find out what the hell was going on.

Blaine led the way, his free hand out in front of him. He knew from a time when there had been a power outage in Kurt’s house, that they kept candles in a drawer in the kitchen. And he’d been over enough times to find his way there in the dark.

His hand found the doorway and he walked through, pulling Kurt behind him and keeping his hand on the wall. He turned to the left and started counting a few steps, remembering the doorway to the kitchen was only a few steps down the hall from the living room. Once he’d walked far enough he thought that he could turn and walk across the hall and into the kitchen, he did just that. But instead of stepping onto the familiar tile of the Hudmel kitchen, Blaine let out an expletive as he banged into a physical object.

“Blaine?” Kurt questioned, concern lacing his voice.

The curly haired boy was quiet for a moment as he ran his hand over the object, pain blooming from where his upper thighs hit in the collision. But he ignored it.

“Kurt,” he started after a moment. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you don’t have a table with an old-fashioned rotary phone in your hallway, right?”

It was Kurt’s turn to be quiet because no, he didn’t have a table with an old-fashioned rotary phone in his hallway. In fact, there shouldn’t have even been a wall there. It should have been the doorway to the kitchen.

The pale boy reached out his free hand and placed it flat against the wall. He trailed his fingers across it until he found what he’d hoped to find. A light-switch. He half-prayed the light would come on and half-hoped it wouldn’t. A second later, he flipped the switch.

Light flickered, once, twice, three times and held, revealing the hallway. The hallway that most certainly was not the hallway of the Hudmel house.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked, looking around. “Where the hell are we?”

But Kurt didn’t listen to the question. In fact, he was preoccupied with another issue entirely. “Blaine,” he said. “You’re in black and white.”

Blaine turned around, but before he could comment in kind, the two boys heard footsteps and their eyes suddenly fell on the staircase behind Kurt. This hallway was certainly like the reverse direction of the hallway in the Hudmel house, but it didn’t necessarily look familiar either.

Kurt’s hold on Blaine’s hand grew tighter as the two of them froze, unable to tear their gaze from the stairs.

Slowly but surely, a man appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Kurt knew exactly who he was. He was surprised to find his voice as the man came to a stop, hands in his pockets, complete in his black and white glory.

“Mr. Price?” the pale boy asked and Blaine’s eyes flicked to look at him, shock evident in their expression.

The man chuckled. “I dare say, you two teenagers have definitely stepped in it.” A crooked sort of grin appeared on his face. “And the name is Mr. Loren. Frederick Loren,” he said.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged glances.

“Frederick Loren?” Kurt questioned, looking back at the man. “But this doesn’t look like the house on the hill.” He decided it was safer not to point out the fact that Frederick Loren was a fictional character.

Mr. Loren snorted. “Oh my dear boy. You shouldn’t believe everything you read or see.” What sounded like a dark chuckle followed his words and once again, Kurt and Blaine exchanged glances. They had no idea what was going on and the latter was glad that Kurt had opted to speak up because he was too afraid to do so himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kurt asked.

“I’m sure you can figure it out.” Mr. Loren gave them what he might have thought was a smile, but looked more like a sneer. So far, aside from his appearance and name, he seemed to be deviating from the movie character entirely. Mr. Loren was supposed to be the unsuspecting target of the film, not the instigator.

Kurt was beginning to wonder whether they were in the movie or had been transported to some alternate version of the story.

“I feel like we’re in a House on Haunted Hill fan fiction,” he mumbled. Details were certainly deviated a bit to render that.

“We couldn’t have fallen into a book,” Blaine said, finally finding his voice. Kurt held back the desire to let out a dry laugh. “Is there a book for House on Haunted Hill?” the curly haired boy questioned him.

“I don’t know,” Kurt replied honestly.

Mr. Loren cleared his throat. “You do know it’s disrespectful to hold private conversations when there is a third person in the room,” he said.

For the third time, Kurt and Blaine exchanged glances.

The man didn’t give them a chance to respond. “The other guests are in the living room. I suppose you might as well join them because you’re here now.”

“You weren’t expecting us?” Blaine asked.

Eyes darkened and narrowed slightly. “What fun is a party when everything that happens is expected?” he asked, before he turned and made his way back up the stairs.

Kurt and Blaine remained still for several moments, wanting to make sure he wasn’t coming back down again before Kurt finally spoke.

“We have to find the guns,” he said.

“Guns?” Blaine asked with wide eyes.

Kurt nodded. “If I remember right, and forgive me as I haven’t watched this movie in a while, Mr. Loren had guns in coffins waiting for the guests,” he said.

Blaine shook his head. “Even if that’s true, there’s no way of telling whether it is here. I think it’s fair to say this is a warped version of the movie.”

The pale boy sighed. Blaine was right. This looked nothing like the house in the film and Mr. Loren seemed more like the instigator, rather than the target. Like in this case, he knew people were going to die.

Kurt froze. Die. People were going to die. They could die. They had to find a way out of here.

“We have to figure how to get out of here,” he finally said.

“Don’t you think we should try and figure out how we got here in the first place?” Blaine asked.

“I don’t know how we got here. There was no portal. Just a shutting down of power and some static,” Kurt replied.

Blaine shook his head. “And the clock striking midnight.”

Kurt sighed. “But the clock’s announcement of midnight meant that Halloween was over. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Unless the fact that it was Halloween has nothing to do with it.” Blaine tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. “Of course, there is the fact that we started watching it when it was still technically Halloween.”

“I think you were right with the first idea,” Kurt said. He fought the urge to start pacing, not wanting to let go of Blaine’s hand. Though he knew that they couldn’t let anyone else catch them holding hands. This was 1959 essentially. Or so the illusion would appear. If it was an illusion. Was someone playing a prank on them? He began to look all around, hoping to see the glimpse of a blonde head hiding behind something. It sounded like something Jeff might set up. On the other hand, illusions couldn’t hurt you. “Do you think it’s a joke?” he asked Blaine, though he was all but certain that it wasn’t.

The other boy shook his head. “No. Jokes aren’t meant to hurt you. Not physically anyway.” He rubbed at his thighs with his free hand.

“And what kind of trick could make you appear black and white?” Kurt asked in agreement, looking down at himself. “Ugh, my outfit looks so washed out now.”

“That reminds me, we aren’t exactly dressed for a party,” Blaine said, giving himself a once over as well.

Though Kurt always believed every moment was a moment for fashion, he still was dressed in clothes comfortable for lounging around at home. There was no point to change out of his costume to spend the rest of the evening watching horror movies completely dolled up.

Blaine had been intending to stay the night with Kurt and had put on one of his less elaborate outfits, not really wanting to watch movies in his pajamas. Of course, Blaine’s style was not nearly as high end elaborate as Kurt’s but it looked good on him all the same. And Kurt rarely got to see him outside of the Dalton uniform.

“Mr. Loren didn’t seem to mind,” Kurt said.

“Mr. Loren is off his rocker,” Blaine pointed out.

“Well, that is certainly an understatement,” came a new voice. Kurt and Blaine turned to see a classically handsome young man step into the hallway from the living room, a glass of brandy in his hand. “I’m Lance Schroeder,” he introduced himself. “Have you come for Lorens party?”

Kurt and Blaine were quiet for a moment, both of them considering their words.

“We don’t exactly know the Lorens,” Kurt finally said.

Lance chuckled. Though the sound from him was much more pleasant than that of Mr. Loren. “Neither do most of the other people here. He seems to have chosen at random,” he replied.

“We didn’t get an invitation,” Blaine said.

The man furrowed his brow in confusion. “Well you must have. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

“I assure you,” Blaine started, shaking his head but he was interrupted by his companion.

“Blaine,” Kurt said in a harsh whisper. Blaine turned to look at the pale boy. His face had practically gone white as a sheet and in his hand, he was holding up an envelope. Mr. Kurt Hummel was written in script across the front. Blaine stared at it for a moment, wide-eyed in shock. “You might want to check your pockets,” Kurt went on, swallowing heavily.

The curly haired boy was absolutely terrified as he did just that, reaching into his pocket and almost shaking when he pulled out a similar envelope to Kurt’s. Written on the front in that same script were the words Mr. Blaine Anderson.

Shaking, the darker boy flipped open the enveloped and pulled out the card that was inside.

It was an invitation.

“Where did these come from?” the boy asked.

Kurt didn’t get a chance to answer as Lance cut in. “I believe the mail,” he said, but they could tell he was merely teasing.

It was kind of jarring how neither Mr. Loren, nor Lance seemed to show any sign of their confusion at Kurt and Blaine’s sudden presence at their engagement. They didn’t even appear to notice their clothes didn’t exactly fit the situation either. Kurt wondered why that was because he already knew he wasn’t dressed for the occasion.

Instinctively, he moved to stand in front of a mirror fastened on the hallway wall, pulling Blaine behind him. His free hand went up to his mouth to cover a gasp.

Instead of his fashionable comfy clothes, Kurt found himself staring at a classic 1950s suit. Of course, he had no real idea whether it was blue or actually gray because all color was gone. When he tore his eyes from the mirror and looked down on himself, his comfy clothes were gone and he was physically viewing the suit. He turned to look at Blaine, who now was in a similar suit, though his was clearly black regardless of the absence color.

“Well, I guess we’re dressed for a party now,” Blaine deadpanned, causing Lance to laugh. Somehow, the man didn’t seem to find any of their reactions awkward or strange. Perhaps it was because he was a fictional character and not a real person at all. The curly haired boy highly doubted characters from this day and age were created as well rounded as characters in the present day.

“Would you boys care to join us in the living room?” Lance asked.

Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other. It seemed they were suddenly doing that an awful lot.

“I guess we don’t really have any other choice,” Blaine stated.

Kurt felt that maybe they could make an excuse to go to the restroom or get a bite from the kitchen, something that sounded normal, just so they could talk privately, but slipping off right away when you were in a horror movie was not the smartest idea, even if you were with another person.

“Do you have any more of that?” Kurt asked, pointing to the glass of brandy in Lance’s hand. Blaine felt his eyes go wide at his friend’s question.

Lance glanced from Kurt to the glass and back to Kurt again, shaking his head. “Nice try young man, but you know it’s illegal for you to drink.”

Kurt held back the scowl. Even in a fictional story they were sticking to the laws. Why did the drinking age have to be 21 even in 1959? This was the one time, Kurt felt he could use a drink.

“Would that even affect us since it isn’t real?” Blaine whispered to him. That was something Kurt hadn’t thought about. Would anything in this world actually affect them, considering none of it was actually real?

But at the same time, everything appeared to be very real. After all, Blaine had hurt himself when he banged into that table. The only thing reminding Kurt that this was not real, was the fact that it was all in black and white. Reality didn’t happen in black and white.

“Does it matter? We aren’t getting any anyway,” Kurt whispered back. He heard Blaine let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. Alcohol and I don’t mix well,” he said.

Kurt shook his head. “Alcohol doesn’t mix well with me either.” He ignored Blaine’s curious look.

“Then why did you want some?” the curly haired boy asked.

“Can you honestly tell me you aren’t considering it with our current situation?” Kurt replied.

Blaine was quiet for a moment. Kurt had a point. Maybe the alcohol would make it all easier to bear. But then he had another thought. “Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think anyone is going to discover us missing?” the boy asked.

The question gave the pale boy pause. He hadn’t thought about what things would be like back home now with him and Blaine essentially in the movie they’d been watching. He didn’t know if the television had come back on after they disappeared. And when had they disappeared? They’d been sitting on the couch the entire time and Kurt hadn’t felt anything unusual. So what exactly had happened?

“I feel like a dark twisted Cinderella,” he muttered.

Blaine’s eyes went wide for a moment. “Can I be your prince then?” he asked. It was enough to pull a smile from Kurt.

“Only if you get me home by midnight,” he teased. They allowed themselves a moment of laughter before becoming serious again. Lance had already disappeared back into the living room. “I guess we should join them,” Kurt said.

“Do we have any other choice?” Blaine asked, repeating his earlier sentiment. He was right, they didn’t really.

‘I guess not,” Kurt agreed, feeling defeated. He gave Blaine’s hand a squeeze before reluctantly releasing his hold on it and moving towards the living room.

The other guests all looked up as Blaine and Kurt entered the room, making Kurt feel like he’d been put on display at a museum. He mustered up a smile as best as he could but figured it came out as more of a grimace.

“Are you boys a little young to be invited to this party?” asked a man with a mustache. Kurt threw him his best bitch glare. Time to bust out his acting chops.

“We got invitations the same as you,” he responded, tone terse, and holding up his invitation.

The man said nothing, just looked a little put out by the response and the fact that Kurt held an invitation in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Lance said. “I didn’t get your names.”

It was Blaine who responded this time. “Forgive us. I’m Blaine Anderson and this is my best friend Kurt Hummel,” he introduced. Kurt gave the group a curt nod.

“You have to forgive David,” a woman sitting on the couch said. “More people to contend with appear to be grating on his nerves.”

Blaine gave Kurt a confused look. He hadn’t quite remembered the story of the film. Kurt knew it better.

“The ten thousand dollars,” Kurt reminded him.

“Oh,” Blaine said with a nod. “Well, I don’t really have much need for the money. I wasn’t even going to accept the invitation, but seeing as Kurt got one as well, I couldn’t let him go alone now could I?”

“What a gentleman you are,” the woman replied. “You’ll make some young lady a fine husband one day.”

To his credit, Blaine just nodded, a slight smile on his face. He may be oblivious, but he knew better than to come out when these people thought it was 1959. “Thank you ma’am,” he finally said instead.

“Oh forgive me,” she responded, placing a hand to her chest. “My name is Nora Manning, but you may call me Nora if you’d like.”

“Pleasure to meet you Nora,” Kurt said with a nod of his head. So far, the only two people he found worth his time were Nora and Lance. Though he was quite expecting there to be a fair few misconceived personalities in the room. If Mr. Loren seemed to be off from the film character, he wouldn’t put it past these people to be too. He felt that maybe he needed to take every interaction with a grain of salt. As though he and Blaine were now the targets and everyone else was in on it, regardless of whether or not they knew it.

The clearing of a throat had them all turning towards the doorway. Mr. Loren stood there, accompanied by a woman who judging by the white shade of her hair, must have actually been a blonde.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Loren. “Allow me to introduce my wife Annabelle. This is essentially her party.” Kurt did have to wonder why the hosts seemed to think it wasn’t more polite to greet the guests as they came in and just leave them in the living room unattended. What else were they supposed to do other than get drinks? “Also, we have a few extra guests. We weren’t sure if they were going to show,” Mr. Loren continued, nodding his head in Kurt and Blaine’s direction.

“I really don’t like that guy,” Blaine whispered to Kurt.

“Touche,” the pale boy said.

Mr. Loren went on as his wife stood silently beside him. “Now, the rules of the game are simple. Every guest who manages to survive the night will earn ten thousand dollars. Once we lock the front door, there will be no going back. So if you don’t wish to stay, I suggest you speak up now and we will let you out, because if not, the door will be locked for the night at midnight.”

Kurt wasn’t entirely sure whether Mr. Loren was telling the truth. What he was sure of, was that it wouldn’t be that simple for him and Blaine to get out of this situation.

“What do we do?” Blaine whispered. Kurt shook his head, indicating he had no idea.

“I have a feeling they won’t just let us leave. That’s not how this will work.”

Blaine sighed and glanced down at the floor momentarily. He knew Kurt was right. “Do you really think they could hurt us?” he asked.

Kurt was silent for a moment. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “We know that outwardly, this is only a film, but everything so far has been at least a little different to how it’s portrayed when we watch it.”

“Like the house being completely different from the actual set,” Blaine realized. Kurt nodded. “And the fact that Mr. Loren is beginning to look like the bad guy.” Kurt nodded again. “What about the guns?” Blaine asked him next.

The pale boy went still, feeling his ears heat up. “We can’t ask about them. If Mr. Loren catches on that we know more than we should…” He didn’t finish the thought, but he didn’t have to. Blaine understood completely.

“Right,” the curly haired boy muttered.

“And there’s no guarantee that there are any guns this time,” Kurt added. Blaine nodded his head. Kurt was right again.

“Double right,” he replied, pulling a small genuine smile from the other boy.

Finished with their unnoticed whispered conversation, they realized the others in the room were standing. Mr. Loren was beckoning them all to follow and Kurt and Blaine didn’t have any other choice but to go with them. Kurt briefly entertained the idea of slipping away from the group and seeing if they couldn’t find their own way out. There was still one recurring theme that gave Kurt an idea.

“I think I know how to get out of here,” he said to Blaine as the two boys fell to the back of the group.

“You do?” Blaine questioned. “How?”

Kurt drew a breath. “We have to survive the night,” he said.

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Blaine said. “I mean those two at the end of the remake survived, got out and got their checks.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, they had no idea how to get down,” he added with a frown.

“Well yeah,” Kurt said slowly. “But Blaine, the original doesn’t end like that.”

Blaine got quiet. “Oh. Did they all die then?” he asked. Normally, Blaine wasn’t the kind of person to approve of spoilers, but this was hardly a normal situation and he figured maybe if Kurt thought they needed to survive the night to get out, then he ought to know what they were up against.

Instead of a yes or a no, Kurt shrugged. “No one really knows exactly what happened in the end. I mean, there were survivors yes, but it never says if they get out or get paid or anything like that,” he told him.

The curly haired boy paled. “So with no knowledge of whether any of them get out, there’s no telling whether we can get out,” he confirmed. Kurt nodded his head.

“If we were able to get out now, we’d need to do it before 11:55,” Kurt said. Blaine frowned, a look of confusion on his face.

“I thought Mr. Loren said midnight,” he said.

“He did,” Kurt confirmed. “But the door will actually be locked five minutes early.” Blaine frowned again. Of course, this information didn’t benefit them anyway because just leaving before they locked the doors would be too easy. He realized that Kurt might be right. If they wanted to get out and back home, they would need to survive the night.

“Are you two coming or not?” Mr. Loren’s creepy voice broke into their whispered conversation. They looked up to see the group gathered at a door, the older man standing with it open and they all were looking at Kurt and Blaine.

“Sorry Mr. Loren,” Kurt said respectfully. He gave Blaine a look as if to say ‘we’ll talk later’ and the two of them hurried to catch up.

“Mr. Pritchard, if you please,” Mr. Loren said to the older man. The man called Mr. Pritchard nodded and began to lead the group down a flight of stairs.

Blaine glanced over at Kurt as they followed the others. He noted that the expression on the pale boy’s face was one of slight confusion, mixed with concern. He nudged his friend, trying to gently persuade him to tell him what was wrong without starting too much of a conversation.

Kurt shook his head. “This isn’t right,” he whispered. “Mr. Pritchard, the owner of the house, is supposed to give the tour before Mr. Loren tells everyone the rules, not after.” Blaine’s eyes widened just a bit.

“The story is being taken out of context,” he said aloud. Even if it was only slightly, it did give both boys a cause to worry. This may be a very different adventure then the film was. After all, the house was nothing like the one in the film. For example, the stairs were in the hallway but the set for the film had the stairs coming right off the living room, which you stepped into from the front door.

The pale boy held his breath and Blaine gently slid his hand into his, knowing that no one would be paying attention to them right at that moment anyway. Kurt threw him a grateful look. If they got out of this, he was going to confess everything to Blaine. Maybe...if it still didn’t seem so daunting and scary.

All these horror films and the thing that terrified Kurt the most, was confessing his feelings to Blaine.

“...where a previous owner killed his wife,” they heard and both boys snapped their heads up, glancing at each other. They were standing in the basement and Mr. Pritchard was explaining about the vat in the floor.

This prompted a question Kurt had always wondered and now that he had the opportunity, he decided to speak up.

“Pardon me Mr. Pritchard,” he said, surprising Blaine. The group all turned to look at him. “But why has no one ever attempted to get rid of the vat? Or at least cover it up.” Maybe some good would come out of this adventure too. He’d get answers to some of the burning questions the film had always left lingering in him.

Mr. Pritchard seemed stunned at the sudden question. As though he hadn’t expected anyone was bright enough to want to know something like that. Instead of answering right away, he moved over to a shelf and beckoning Lance over, pulled it away from the wall.

Behind the shelf was the remains of an old cement mixer and a few chipped bricks. “They tried,” Mr. Pritchard said, picking up one of the bricks. “But that woman’s spirit wouldn’t let them cover up her grave.” He moved to the front of the shelf and for the first time, Kurt noticed with horror, a skeletal hand and part of the forearm. “This was all they found of that man the next morning,” Mr. Pritchard went on, picking the skeletal remains off the shelf.

“That’s horrible!” Nora cried. Lance patted her arm in reassurance.

“That’s what you get for messing with the dead miss,” Mr. Pritchard replied.

Annabelle stood hugging herself in a corner. Kurt’s eyes went to her subtly, before shifting over to David. He was trying to see if there was any silent communication between the two. In the actual film, Annabelle and David were behind everything, having a master plot to kill Frederick. But given the changes he’d noted here, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case or not.

“What is it?” Blaine whispered as Lance and Mr. Pritchard moved the shelf back. Kurt shook his head, following the group as they made their way back upstairs.

“I’ll tell you later,” the pale boy whispered back. Now was not the time for more secret little discussions. Not while they were still meant to stick with the group. The last thing the boys needed was for the two of them to become suspected of what was going to happen in the house. Of course, whatever had put them here, might have that as the plan all along.

“I’ll show you all to your rooms now,” Mr. Pritchard said. He led them up the main stairs to the second floor of the house and Kurt found himself tensing. Right. They each had to have their own room.

“They’re going to separate us,” he said.

“What?” Blaine asked, careful to keep his voice quiet so as not to draw attention. “There is no way I’m leaving you. Especially since you know more about what’s going on here than I do.”

It was true. For the first time since they had met, Kurt would be mentoring Blaine. It would finally feel like things were set right. Blaine might have been younger than Kurt but he had been a huge help when it came to being comfortable with himself.

Kurt bit his lip and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “They have to give everyone their own room. I promise Blaine, as soon as we’re left to our own devices, I’ll come see you.”

“But what if they show you your room first?” Blaine asked.

“Then you come see me,” Kurt responded immediately. “Maybe we will have to be separated for a short period but I promise I am not going to leave you alone,” he told him.

“I don’t like the idea of being separated at all Kurt. We’re not even supposed to be here,” Blaine replied. Kurt resisted the urge to cringe. He knew his best friend was right. Maybe there was a way they could do this without being separated. But he doubted it.

The pale boy let out a sigh and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “I promise, no more than five minutes apart at most and then we will be together again.” Kurt knew he was taking a big gamble. With the way this film had been he knew that anything could happen in a space of five minutes. And though he didn’t say as much to Blaine, he had a good idea that it would. Whatever had brought them here was not going to play an easy game.

As Kurt had hoped, Blaine was shown to a room first. It was right next door to Nora’s and Kurt tried to give Blaine a reassuring smile. But the truth of the matter was, he hated having to separate from him almost as much as Blaine did.

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” he whispered quietly to him. “I’ll be right back as soon as I can be,” he added.

Blaine nodded his head and slipped into the room, hesitant to let go of Kurt’s hand but making sure he didn’t dwell on it so much that those left in the group became suspicious of the relationship between the two boys.

There really wasn’t anything but friendship between them. Kurt wanted it to be something more but he had no idea how Blaine felt. The younger boy was often clueless and oblivious when it came to stuff like that. But Kurt found it incredibly endearing and on another level, incredibly lucky. He wouldn’t know what he would do if Blaine could pick up easily on his feelings for him.

He was the last to be shown a room, which was just across the hall and a few steps down from Blaine’s, so it would be fairly easy for him to get back to the other boy.

Kurt paced the room inside, trying to give a normal amount of time without seeming odd before he slipped out to go get Blaine. His mind was whirling a mile a minute. How the hell did they end up here? Why had they ended up here? Would it matter if they died in a fictional world? No, no he couldn’t think that question. He smacked himself on the side of the head for letting such an idea creep in. The biggest question on his mind was still, would they be able to get out?

With the fact that things seemed off from what happened in the film, Kurt wasn’t taking any chances. It was very likely the two people in question would not end up meeting their demise in the end. And without knowing whether the remaining characters had actually gotten out, there was really no way of telling how this was going to end.

Still, he remained steadfast in his impression that they had to survive the night to get out. The question was, how were they going to do that? Kurt felt that he may have an advantage, what with being familiar with the film in question. But again, with things being off, he really could be just as clueless as Blaine.

That was when he heard a loud scream come from across the hall.

“Blaine!” Kurt shouted. He ran from the room, noting the other guests had made their way out of their rooms and were quickly gathering around the door to Blaine’s room.

“Good riddance!” a woman said and Kurt turned to glare at her. Ruth, he remembered her name was.

“What the hell?” he said to the woman.

Ruth clucked her tongue. “Teenage boys have no business at a party where the price is ten thousand dollars!”

Kurt glared again and opened his mouth to retort but it was surprisingly David who beat him to it. The man who didn’t want others to contend with.

“It’s not a contest Bridgers,” he said, causing the woman to gasp when he excused himself from formalities. “Everyone who manages to stay the whole night will get ten thousand dollars. Weren’t you listening?”

“That doesn’t matter right now Mr. Trent,” Nora spoke up. “Right now we need to check on that boy.”

Kurt swallowed hard. He pushed through the group to the door, already feeling the guilt for leaving Blaine by himself. He knew whatever had brought them here had no intentions of making it easy. He just hoped that it wasn’t already too late for Blaine.

His heart thudding in his chest, Kurt raised his hand and knocked on the door. “Blaine?” he called out. There was no answer and he felt his thudding heart jump up into his throat. He knocked again. “Blaine?” he called a second time, raising his voice, hoping that maybe his friend just hadn’t heard him. But again, there was no answer.

Kurt pulled away from the door and turned to glare at Mr. Loren of all people. Now was the time to put his acting face on. He couldn’t let these people know that he knew more about what was happening than any of them.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded of Loren. “Oh let’s scare the crap out of people! While we’re at it, why don’t we try to take out a teenage boy! He can’t fight back!”

Frederick was completely caught off-guard by Kurt’s sudden anger. He tried to quickly compose himself but the surprise was too evident.

“I didn’t do anything to your friend,” Frederick said, his tone clipped, but not quite so much as it had been before. “I’m sure you and your friend were just as aware as the other guests that this house is rumored to be incredibly haunted.”

Kurt scoffed and muttered under his breath. “Yeah, sure it’s haunted.”

“What was that boy?” Mr. Loren said. He was not particularly thrilled that he couldn’t seem to intimidate the teenager.

“Nothing,” Kurt said flatly. He turned back to the door and turned the doorknob, opening it carefully.

The room looked nearly untouched, save for a slight impression on the side of the bed where Kurt figured Blaine must have been sitting. There was no sign of a breakin from the window. The curtains were drawn and no glass was on the floor. There was no sign that anything in the room had been disturbed at all. Indeed, the only indication that someone had been in there, was the impression left on the bed.

“Where’s Pritchard,” Kurt demanded, looking at the group. Mr. Loren shrugged. “Find him,” the pale boy continued to demand.

“Why?” Mr. Loren asked, his tone bored. He began studying his fingernails, looking like it was beneath him.

“That little holier than thou act won’t work on me. I’ve perfected it. Now, find me Pritchard and as for why, it’s because he owns this house. If anyone would have any idea what happened to Blaine, it would be him!”

Mr. Loren had the nerve to sneer at Kurt. “Your little friend knew the rules. It’s not my fault he couldn’t put up the fight to survive.”

Oh yes, this definitely was not the Frederick Loren of the film. This guy didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself.

Kurt looked around and a slow smirk came to his face. Just his luck that this house was different. He noticed a sword display on the wall and moved to grab a couple of them. They weren’t sai, but since he had skill with sai, he figured picking up a few others wouldn’t be terribly difficult.

“Now you listen here you smirky little cockroach,” he said to Mr. Loren, his own voice dripping with that bitch tone he'd perfected over the years. “I suggest if you don’t want to be dodging these swords, you go and find me Pritchard.”

Mr. Loren hesitated, looking fearfully at the couple of swords for a moment before he regained his composure. “You won’t harm me,” he said, tone dripping sickeningly sweet. “I’m the one who needs to write your check at the end. I can’t do that if I’m not around anymore.”

Kurt didn’t give a damn about a stupid check. All he wanted was Blaine back. “Try me,” he said, voice deadly.

Lance put a hand on Mr. Loren’s shoulder. “Mr. Loren, he’s just a kid,” he said.

Annabelle put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Mr. Shroeder is right dear. Please don’t cause a scene. Go find Mr. Pritchard for the boy.”

“No need to find me, I’m right here,” Mr. Pritchard said, walking up to the group while tying a robe around himself. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Kurt turned to him, the swords lowered but still in his grasp. “Blaine’s room. Is there any way out of it other than the door and the window?”

Mr. Pritchard scratched his head. “There are many secret passageways in this old house,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Blaine is missing,” Kurt said.

“Oh dear,” The older man replied. He walked into the room and stood there looking around it, checking for any signs that something was out of place. After a moment, he moved towards the bed post and Kurt watched him lean in closer as he studied the antique brass knob at the top.

“Mr. Pritchard?” Kurt questioned after the man didn’t say anything but continued to examine the knob. He and the rest of the group had slowly made their way into the room, minus Mr. Loren, who despite looking as vicious as ever, wouldn’t go anywhere near Kurt because he was still holding the swords.

The older man looked back at Kurt. “How does your friend feel about antiques?” he asked. Kurt was taken aback. He wasn’t aware that even in 1959, the bed frame would be considered an antique. How old was it?

“I’d say he loves them. Blaine is a very classy person. He always has his hair on point and his bow ties and cardigans straight.” Kurt was aware that his friend’s usual attire would fit right in with the fifties.

Mr. Pritchard nodded. “Well, this here bedknob activates a trapdoor. I don’t think anything of harm happened to your friend. I think he may have accidentally turned the knob and fallen through.”

“Where does it lead?” Kurt asked.

The older man shook his head. “Couldn’t tell you,” he said. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

“I thought you knew everything about this house,” the pale boy said through gritted teeth.

“I do,” Mr. Pritchard replied, not at all phased by Kurt’s reaction. “But this passageway is a funny one. It leads to a different place every time you go down it.”

Kurt’s eyes were still narrowed. “Are you telling me, that if I were to follow Blaine into the passageway, I won’t even end up wherever it took him?” he asked, disbelief written across his face. These were things he didn’t remember as being a part of the film. But he kept reminding himself this was turning out to deviate from the film so he shouldn’t be too surprised. He knew one thing for sure, when they got home, he was putting that DVD away and never taking it out again.

“That’s what I’m saying,” the older man replied.

“Great. Just great,” was all Kurt could say. Well, hell had officially begun. He already didn’t expect himself to get any sleep tonight, though that would have probably been the easiest way through the night. Now though, he was absolutely certain he wouldn’t. Because Kurt Hummel wouldn’t rest until Blaine was once more, by his side.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Nora said. “I don’t want to stay.”

Mr. Loren looked at the watch on his wrist. “Too late my dear. It’s already past midnight.”

…

Blaine blinked his eyes open, coughing at the cloud of dust that had risen up around him when he landed. He let out a groan and pulled himself up into a sitting position. It took him a moment to remember what was going on and he groaned again. This time, it was because what had happened prior was most certainly not a dream and he wasn’t just on the floor of the Hudmel living room after dozing off during the movie and falling off the couch.

He swiped his hands several times down the sleeves of his suit and checked himself before carefully standing up. Eyes darted around the dark room. Clearly, with all the dust he’d disturbed, this room must have seen better days and it wasn’t used for entertaining.

It was one of those moments Blaine wished his cell phone hadn’t disappeared and for the first time since he’d noticed it missing he wondered where it had gone. He hoped it had merely dropped on the Hudmel’s couch. Kurt’s was likely still on the end table because it wasn’t that his furniture had disappeared, it was that they had disappeared.

Even if he had the phone though, there was no guarantee even the flashlight would work. This was 1959. Blaine was quite sure that kind of battery power may not have been invented yet. But he of course, couldn’t confirm the thought.

Hands braced out in front of him, he managed to find one of the walls of the room and kept one hand on it as he moved around the perimeter. Where the hell was he anyway? He had to still be in the house. As far as he knew, there was no way out other than the front door and he and Kurt had both already missed their opportunity to get out. Though because Kurt knew this film better than Blaine did, he figured his friend was right in assuming that just leaving when it was offered wasn't going to be the solution. Things like this never came easy.

“Hello?” he took a chance and called out, hoping someone might be close by. It was silent, something that didn’t surprise Blaine. But instead of being deterred, he tried again, a little louder. “Hello?”

“Get out!” something suddenly hissed and Blaine felt a force press him into the wall so hard, pain shot through his shoulders.

The curly haired boy drew a breath, willing his knees to stop shaking. He was braver than this. But it was one thing to face something you knew was just made up and meant to be fun. It was another entirely to be faced with something that could potentially be real.

“I don’t know how!” he admitted, surprised when his voice came out steady, despite the fear he felt.

“Get out!” whatever it was hissed again. Blaine felt himself suddenly lifted off his feet. He let out a yelp as he was thrown across the dark room and flung his hands out. The sting was harsh when he landed hard on the floor, but it had stopped him from facing any serious damage. He’d have to inspect his palms when he was able to see them again.

As he moved to stand up, his hand hit what felt like the edge of a doorway. So maybe the thing wasn’t very friendly, but at least it had the decency to throw him towards the exit. Or he hoped it was the exit anyway.

Scrambling to his feet, Blaine dashed through the doorway and jumped when he heard a loud bang behind him. Not wanting to know what it was, he ran forward. The new room was also dark but it did have one dim light bulb hanging overhead so at least he could make out enough to see where he was going. It occurred to him that he might have been somewhere in the basement. The question now was...where?

…

Back upstairs, Kurt was still pacing Blaine’s room. The rest of the group stood around just inside the door. Most of them were kind of hesitant to split up again. There was no doubt the idea that something bad could happen to them had made the vast majority of the guests nervous.

The only people who had left the group were Mr. and Mrs. Loren. Apparently, Frederick wasn’t phased by any of it. The very idea made Kurt angry. He invited them here, he should damn well care about their wellbeing. If this was real life, and not a film he was trapped in, he’d be pressing charges against Frederick the moment they got out of here. Of course, given how deviated from the actual film this was going, Kurt wasn’t sure whether or not it was real life anymore. He made it a point not to mention that to Blaine when he found him.

“Young man,” Lance spoke up and Kurt stopped to look up at him. “I’m sure your friend is okay.”

“He better damn well be,” Kurt responded, tone clipped. “Sorry,” he apologized. He was all wound up and he knew that none of this was Lance’s fault. “Our parents will have Loren’s head when we get out of this.”

Lance opened and closed his mouth, thinking better of what he might have been about to say.

“That man is so...so…” Nora started and let out a very unladylike growl when she couldn’t come up with a word. She stomped her foot for emphasis.

“I get the feeling none of us should have answered the invitation,” Ruth stated.

Mr. Pritchard glanced at her. “I didn’t really have a choice. I own the house,” he said.

“There’s needed money involved,” David added. “Did any of us really have a choice?”

His question brought silence to the room. All the guests were glancing from one person to the next and back again. David had a point. They had all agreed because they were all in desperate need of the money. Kurt knew that wasn’t why he and Blaine were here, but he was going along with it anyway.

Their silence was interrupted by a second scream, this one clearly a female and the lot of guests ran from the room, following the sound to the door of the Lorens’ room.

“That was Miss. Annabelle,” Lance said. He looked at Mr. Pritchard. “Is there a secret passageway in there too?”

The older man shook his head. “Not that I’m aware,” he said. The group all glanced at each other, clearly feeling the ebb of fear creep in around them. Lance poised his hand, ready to knock when suddenly the door burst open and Mr. Loren came storming out.

“You!” he shouted, pointing directly at Kurt, eyes boring into him in a hateful manner. “You did this! You killed Annabelle!” he shouted.

So Annabelle was still supposedly dead, like in the film. Though Kurt had no way of knowing whether she was just supposedly dead, or in this case, actually dead. He did notice that the front of Mr. Loren’s clothes seemed to be covered in a dark substance. That threw him for a loop. Annabelle was hung in the film.

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice deadly calm. He was not going to let Loren get to him.

“Don’t act like you’re all innocent you little ingrate! I’ll have you locked up for this!”

“For what exactly?” Kurt asked, still unphased by the man’s attempt at intimidation.

Mr. Loren pointed behind him into the room. “My wife! While I was in the bathroom, you snuck in and sliced her with one of those bloody swords!”

Sliced her? Someone had physically cut Annabelle? Kurt knew he wasn’t responsible and he opened his mouth to say so when Ruth, who had been so blatantly against him and Blaine earlier, vouched for him.

“How could this boy have hurt Annabelle, Mr. Loren? He was with us in the other room the entire time!” The other guests all nodded, confirming her exclamation.

Mr. Loren growled. “Then his little friend did it!” he shouted next, still glaring daggers at Kurt. “I should have never invited teenagers.” Well, he wasn’t wrong, but Kurt wondered why he didn’t remember he had never actually invited them in the first place. They had just turned up out of nowhere and everyone acted like it wasn’t strange.

“Blaine is missing Mr. Loren,” Kurt stated, still calm. His hands were in his pockets and he made sure to keep eye contact with the man. “On top of that, I know Blaine better than I know anyone and he isn’t capable of hurting even a fly.”

Mr. Loren growled again. “Well someone is lying!”

Lance stepped boldly forward, arms crossed over his chest. “How do we know it isn’t you? The six of us were altogether in that other room, still trying to figure out what happened to the boy. But you, you came back here with Annabelle and you claim you were in the bathroom when it happened. You are standing here covered in blood. How do we know you didn’t kill her?”

There were murmurs around the group at Lance’s bold accusation and Mr. Loren grunted, standing straighter.

“As if you can’t hold a body in your arms without being covered in blood,” he said gruffly.

Kurt held his tongue, wanting to mention there were more ways to die than noticeable harm. But he had long since waned any desire to help Mr. Loren. The man clearly didn’t like him. And perhaps, he didn’t like any of the other guests.

It stumped the pale boy because this Mr. Loren was nothing like the film character. Mr. Loren was supposed to be an eccentric wealthy man, but potentially cruel did not appear to be one of his character traits. He’d been a victim in the end of the original film. And everything here was just so wrong and it made Kurt debate whether he should just stop questioning every change because this was not the film. That much was very clear now.

So then, what was it? An alternate reality where the events of the film were actually real events and happened a completely different way than was depicted?

He remembered some people in the present referring to the original House on Haunted Hill as a cheesy horror B movie, saying that despite being a major hit, it wasn’t considered actually scary. Not by today’s standards anyway. In reality, the original film had been a low budget project, as had another bonafide horror fic from the time, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. In fact, William Castle, the man who made House on Haunted Hill, was a big fan of Hitchcock.

Kurt shook his head. He wasn’t sure any of that information actually mattered. Mostly because he still didn’t know whether he could consider himself in the film. That was getting harder and harder to believe with all the differences.

And it was clear that whatever had brought him and Blaine to this world, whatever it was, was intent on attempting to make it much scarier than the film actually was. He wasn’t going to give it the chance.

He was tempted to round on David and ask him if Annabelle was really dead, but he held back. The last thing he wanted was to show any of them he had more knowledge of what was going on than he should. Furthermore, with the changes, it was very likely his knowledge in this case, was the incorrect knowledge and he really knew no more than anyone else.

“How could you Frederick.” The voice cut into the silence Kurt hadn’t realized had befallen the group and he turned with the others to see what appeared a very bloodied Annabelle standing in the doorway, her eyes resting on her husband.

Slowly but surely, Frederick began to back away. The question was, was Annabelle actually a spirit, or not really dead? Kurt didn’t have the faintest clue.

“No,” Frederick shook his head frantically. “No, it’s not possible!” He gripped his head, fingers prying strands of hair from his carefully set style. “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

As Annabelle advanced on her husband, the group began backing away, giving the supposed ghost room. Kurt took that as his opportunity to peek inside the room. There, lying on the bed, was what looked like Annabelle’s body. He glanced back to the form advancing on Mr. Loren. She looked so solid. He couldn’t tell from his position if she was the real Annabelle and the body on the bed was a fake. And he didn’t dare risk getting closer to check. Not when everyone else was around.

The house it seemed had other plans. A sudden unexplainable breeze all but pushed Kurt into the room and suddenly the door slammed shut behind him. He could hear shouts outside in the hallway.

“Where’s the boy?!” he heard Nora frantically ask.

“He was here a moment ago!” Lance’s voice cried out. Kurt heard the sound of someone testing the doorknob. He could see the efforts to jiggle it open, but the door wasn’t budging.

The pale boy backed away from the door. He kept moving until he felt the far wall behind him and lost his balance as his torso fell through. Both hands flew out and gripped the sides of the open window in time to pull himself upright and he turned around. The curtains were blowing from the wind outside and for being on the second story, the drop was a long way down. Had he fallen out the window, he would have been a goner for sure.

“That was close,” he muttered to himself, placing a hand to his chest. Blaine would have never forgiven him if he had gotten himself killed and left the other boy all alone.

A morbid thought crossed his mind that maybe he was wrong about what they needed to do to get out of there, but he quickly shook it free. No, everyone else’s challenge was to survive the night. Why should he and Blaine be any different?

“Because this isn’t following the film,” he found himself answering the question aloud. Still, he refused to believe they needed to take that path. He didn’t know if any of this was actually real so there was no way in hell he would entertain the idea that he might have to die to get out of here. Even if dying in a horror film would be epic.

Granted, by the end of the original film, only two of the characters were actually dead. But he still didn’t know what had happened to the remaining characters with the way it ended.

Kurt began pacing for what felt like the millionth time. He was undoubtedly stuck now. Mr. Pritchard said he couldn’t recall there being a secret passage in this room. And with the door suddenly refusing to open, the only other way out was the open window. That was when Kurt got an idea.

His eyes went to the bed, where the supposed body still was and Kurt wrinkled his nose in distaste. He was going to have to do something he knew he wasn’t going to like.

He noted that the jiggling of the doorknob had stopped and he wondered briefly if the group had dispersed. It was eerily quiet outside the room, which unnerved him. Why all of a sudden could he not hear the threats of Annabelle towards her husband? Or the frantic nature of the other guests as they tried to get into the room to him. Surely, they hadn’t just given up.

Kurt swallowed. He didn’t have time to entertain that possible fear. He needed to find a way out of the room. And the only idea he had would require the sheets and blankets from the bed.

Going around to the opposite side, away from the supposed body, Kurt gripped a hold of the blankets and yanked on them. It wasn’t normally in his nature to treat bed clothes so crudely, but this constituted an emergency so right now, he really didn’t care.

His only thoughts as he worked was the hope that he would have the nerve to go through with it.

…

Blaine felt like he’d been wandering around the basement for hours. Granted, it probably hadn’t even been twenty minutes, but he had no way of telling the passage of time. He wondered why Mr. Pritchard hadn’t mentioned that the basement was like a vast underground maze. Of course, that could have been because the man had thought there was no intention of anyone wandering down there.

A sigh of relief broke from him when he passed through yet another door, one that took some effort shoving open, to find himself in the room with the vat. He knew the entrance back to the main house was just up the stairs. What he didn’t know was whether the door was locked.

This room was perhaps the most lit up of the entire basement and he didn’t have to squint or feel his way along the wall in here. He couldn’t just go up to the door and try to get out. Without knowing whether Mr. Pritchard had locked it, Blaine was aware that it might be a good idea to find something to use a battering ram.

That was when he remembered the cement bricks behind the shelf. That may not ram the door open, but maybe he could break off the lock somehow with it.

Moving swiftly, Blaine stopped in front of the shelf. He remembered how it had taken both Mr. Pritchard and Lance to move it before. So it must have been a fairly heavy shelf to move. However, it could be a trick too. If any of the items in this room were in tune with set pieces, it was highly likely the shelf was actually much lighter than it would seem. But Blaine was aware that there were changes between this and the actual film, so he had no way of knowing for sure if anything was a set prop or if it was all real. Especially given the fact that this house looked nothing like the one in the film did.

Before he could take the chance to see if he could move it, he had a sudden sensation like something or someone pressing two hands to his chest and the next thing Blaine knew, he’d been knocked off balance. The vat was behind him and the boy was pinwheeling his arms.

Thinking fast, he grabbed a hold of the shelf just as he started to fall backwards and let out a yelp as the entire shelf followed him down. The curly haired boy could see his life flash before his eyes and feel his heart thumping out of his chest as he braced himself for his impending death.

But it never came. Blaine opened his eyes several seconds later, not realizing he’d shut them. The vat was inches below him and he suddenly realized he must have subconsciously clung to the falling shelf with his whole body. His legs were wrapped tightly around one of the legs and his arms were looped through the same leg. The shelf itself was lying with the bottom two shelves pressed to the cement floor. The rest of it was hanging out over the open vat. Blaine was now considering himself to be incredibly lucky.

“Thank God for my affinity for climbing on furniture,” the boy muttered. With a little difficulty, he managed to maneuver his way around the edge until he was attached to the upper leg, rather than the lower one. He clung tighter for a moment as the movement caused the shelf to wobble dangerously over the vat.

Slowly but surely, the boy slid down the shelf until he could put his feet on the floor. He didn’t have a clue what had attempted to push him into the vat, but he didn’t want to stick around in case it tried something else.

As soon as he was firmly back on the ground, he grabbed one of the cement bricks and rushed around to the stairs. He wasn’t taking any chances.

He tried the doorknob. As he’d expected, it was locked. Of course Mr. Pritchard didn’t think anyone was going to wander down here with that vat in the floor. He certainly wouldn’t have if he’d known something would try to push him into it.

With a grunt, he began hitting the knob with the brick. One, two, three, strikes before the inside knob fell to the ground and he was able to reach through and push the lock. He swung the door open and stopped out into the main house. His suit was now incredibly dusty. But that didn’t matter to him. The only thing left on Blaine’s mind was finding Kurt.

He didn’t have a clue which room was Kurt’s but he intended to knock on the doors of any he knew didn’t belong to the other guests.

He was just making his way towards the stairs when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eyes and he turned his head to look into the living room. It was empty. But that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

There was something dangling outside the living room window and had he had any sense, he might have just turned and ran. Because who would be dumb enough to investigate an unidentified dangling object?

Blaine apparently was. He cautiously moved into the living room. He’d reached about the halfway mark when he finally determined the dangling object looked like a bedsheet. Was someone attempting to break out of the house?

As if in answer to his question, a foot suddenly appeared and Blaine jumped. He stayed still in the center of the living room for a moment, feeling his heart rate speed up once again. He felt like he was rooted to the spot as the foot gave way to a leg, which gave way to two. Two legs were swinging in the air. And really who would be crazy enough to try something like that?

A shirttail was next. Whomever it was, their shirt had come untucked in the effort. Blaine was beginning to think that this couldn’t be anyone dangerous. But who would try to get out of the house this way? Who was so desperate to leave they would resort to such things as attempting to climb out an upper story window? Blaine was well aware that even the living room window on the first story was high above solid ground. It looked out over the edge of the hill.

Blaine was struck with the sudden realization that whomever was doing this, would be better off just swinging into the living room. There was no way that sheet was going to reach all the way to the ground.

The curly haired boy rushed over and was relieved to find that the window was easy to open. He braced both hands on the windowsill and stuck his head out, turning it to look upwards.

“Kurt?” he cried in surprise, recognizing the top of his friend's head and his pale hands wrapped tightly around the bedsheet.

“Blaine!” Kurt shouted, both incredibly surprised and relieved to see his best friend. “Thank a God I don’t believe in that you’re alright!” In his surprise, his grip on the sheet loosened and he suddenly found himself sliding down fast. He let out a yelp.

“Kurt!” Blaine cried. He caught the other boy’s hand as he started to slide past him. The bedsheet came undone up higher from the increased pressure of Kurt sliding down it and fell from the window. Both boys watched it billow down to the ground. “I got you!” Blaine said. Kurt was now holding onto his hand for dear life.

“Don’t let go!” the pale boy shouted up at him. Blaine could see the sweat beading on Kurt’s forehead. He wasn’t sure what the hell his friend had been thinking.

“I got you!” he repeated. “You have to try and pull yourself up, Kurt!”

“I can’t!” Kurt said. Blaine had never seen him so scared, not even when he was talking about the bullying back at McKinley.

“You can!” he tried to encourage him.

Kurt shook his head, tears brimming at his eyes now. “No! I’ll pull you out the window, Blaine! I can’t!”

It was Blaine’s turn to shake his head. “No you won’t Kurt, I promise. You can do this! Courage Kurt, remember? Courage!”

The familiar encouragement flowed through Kurt stronger than it ever had and yeah, maybe following Blaine’s advice had gotten him kissed by a closeted bully, but in the end, it had led to him going to Dalton and getting to see Blaine so much more than he ever had been able to at McKinley. So even if following his best friends advice might have led to unwanted attention, it was made up for by getting to spend more time with him.

Kurt tightened his grip on Blaine’s hand and swung his feet through the air, looking for purchase against the wall of the house. Blaine was still bracing his other hand on the window sill. He gripped it as tight as he could bear, ignoring the fact that his palms were still stinging from when he’d caught that fall earlier.

Suddenly, Blaine could feel something trying to pry his fingers away from Kurt’s hand. “Blaine I’m slipping!” Kurt cried out in fear. Tears were streaming down his face now. Blaine released the window and grabbed a hold of Kurt’s arm with his other hand, intending to have one hand on him at all times, no matter how hard the unseen presence tried to pry him free.

“I’m not going to let you fall Kurt, I promise!” he called. He was doing an excellent job at hiding his own fear. Right now, Kurt needed him. And he was not going to let the other boy down.

Kurt was full on crying. “Blaine I’m scared!” he cried out.

“I know honey,” Blaine said, the term of endearment just slipping out without much thought.

The next thing the curly haired boy knew, he felt someone’s arms wrap around his waist and heard a voice from behind him.

“On the count of three, pull as hard as you can! One, two, three!”

Blaine did as he was told and with one hand losing its grip thanks to the unseen presence, he gave one mighty pull as the person holding him by the waist pulled him backwards. Kurt flew up through the window and landed on Blaine, who stumbled back into the other person, who turned out to be Lance Shroeder.

Kurt was curled up in a crying heap on top of Blaine and the curly haired boy just sat there for a moment trying to soothe him. But at the same time, he needed to know what had happened. He turned a firm look onto Lance.

“What the hell happened?” he asked the man, who threw his hands up in surrender.

“Something locked him in the Lorens’ room,” Lance replied. “After the doorknob wouldn’t give, David and I went down to the kitchen to look for something to pry it open with. We were just on our way back up when we heard you shouting.” He nodded to the doorway where David was standing with a screwdriver they’d found in a kitchen drawer. Apparently, the idea was to unscrew the knob from the door.

“What was he doing there in the first place?” Blaine got out.

Kurt finally found his voice again and sat up shakily. “Annabelle Loren is dead.” Blaine’s eyes were round as saucers at the news.

“Her spirit attacked Mr. Loren,” Lance added. Blaine looked from Kurt to Lance and back to Kurt again.

“That doesn’t explain why you were in their room Kurt,” the younger boy said, eyes resting on his friend. Kurt let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. He was quiet for a moment, trying to word what he had to say carefully so as not like he knew something he didn’t.

“We all know this house is supposedly haunted,” he started, looking from Blaine to Lance to David. “The Lorens set this whole party up. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and scare us. Think about it. Frederick is offering ten thousand dollars to anyone who survives the night. Do you really think he’s just going to sit by and not try to get to us? It’s supposed to be a challenge.”

Blaine caught on right away. “You think Annabelle’s death was a trick.”

Kurt nodded. “So while the rest of you were focused on Annabelle attacking Frederick, I took the opportunity to peek inside the room. There was a body that looked like Annabelle on the bed. But then, something pushed me in and slammed the door behind me.”

Lance glanced over at David and then back at the two teenagers. “That was when we noticed you gone. Frederick had turned and fled down the corridor, trying to get away from his wife’s ghost so to speak. She was blaming him. We didn’t see what happened to either of them after that. We were too concerned about getting you out.”

“But Kurt,” Blaine said. “Why would you ever attempt to climb out that window?”

The pale boy sighed yet again. “Mr. Pritchard said there were no passageways that he knew of in that room. They couldn’t get the door open from the other side. My priority was trying to find you so I knew I had to get out of there one way or another. When I nearly fell out of the open window, it gave me an idea.”

It was David who spoke next. “Wait a minute, there’s not supposed to be any way out of the house for the night after the doors were locked, so why was the window open?”

Kurt shook his head. “I don’t think it mattered either way. Nobody would have survived jumping out that window and I was stupid enough to do what I did. I guess I’m just lucky.” He shrugged. “But it’s still possible it was part of Mr. Loren’s plan.”

“Do you think he and Annabelle are conspiring together?” Lance asked.

“I don’t know,” Kurt replied honestly. Because he didn’t. In the film, it was David and Annabelle that had been conspiring together. However, nothing was as it seemed here and Mr. Loren was certainly not the same man from the film. It was entirely possible he was acting completely alone. There was that little detail that Annabelle thought he was trying to kill her, after his second and third wives were murdered and his first wife went missing. But given that, and what the actual fact of the film plot was, there was no way of knowing if film Annabelle had just made it up. Perhaps to turn the guests against her husband.

Blaine had pulled Kurt into his arms and was running a soothing hand over the other boy’s back.

“Wait,” Kurt suddenly said, looking at Lance and David. “You said the two of you left to find something to pry the door open. What happened to everybody else?”

Lance looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“By the time I’d made the decision to try and climb out the window, the corridor outside the room had lapsed into silence, like everyone had dispersed.”

Lance exchanged a look with David. The other man shrugged. Apparently, the others must have still been at the door when they’d left to find some tool to open the door with.

“Do you think it was possible the house was playing tricks on him?” David asked.

No one said a word. Kurt was now so much more confused than he had started the night. All these changes didn’t serve well to help him figure out what was going on. There was really no way to tell whether the house was actually haunted, or everything was set up by Mr. Loren. One thing was for sure, if it was a set up, they were damn good special effects.

That thought alone had him leaning towards the fact that the house may actually be haunted. They didn’t have those kinds of special effects in the fifties. Especially not in a low budget horror film. But that didn’t mean there couldn’t be some truth to it being a setup too.

Kurt turned to Blaine then. “What happened to you?” he asked, now taking in how much dust was covering Blaine’s suit.

The boy shook his head. “I landed somewhere in the basement. You know it’s like a maze down there?” he asked. The other three exchanged looks. “Anyway, the room I ended up in was pitch dark and I tried calling out to see if someone was there. And then something shouted at me to get out. And when I told it I didn’t know how, it threw me.”

Kurt’s eyes were wide. “It threw you?!” he asked incredulously. Lance and David both looked just as surprised as Kurt at Blaine’s words. But there was also something else in Kurt’s eyes. Anger. How dare an unexplained something throw his friend. The boy he cared about more than else in the world.

Blaine nodded and swallowed before he went on. “And then I found myself walking through room after room for I don’t know how long, until finally, I made it to the room with the vat. But then it crossed my mind that the door to the main house might have been locked. I figured Mr. Pritchard hadn’t bothered to tell us about the rest of the basement because he might have assumed after seeing the vat, we wouldn’t want to go down there.”

“I know I didn’t,” Lance said. “How did you get out?” he added.

“I remembered the cement bricks Mr. Pritchard had shown us when Kurt asked why no one had tried to cover the vat before. I figured if the door was locked, I could use one of them to break the doorknob. Better idea than pounding on the door until someone heard me. But there was a problem.”

“What?” Kurt asked, now gripping a hold of his best friend’s hands. Blaine’s eyes went back to the pale boy.

“When Mr. Pritchard had shown us earlier, he needed Lance’s help to move the shelf. I didn’t know if I would be able to move it on my own.”

“Did you try?” David asked. Blaine fell quiet. His face appeared like it would be draining of color if they weren’t in black and white.

“Blaine?” Kurt questioned, gripping his hands tighter.

“I didn’t get the chance,” he got out in a voice barely above a whisper.

Kurt, Lance, and David all exchanged looks with each other. However, it was a new voice in the room that prompted him to go on.

“Why not?” Kurt looked up to see Nora, Ruth, and Mr. Pritchard had joined them in the living room. He had half a mind to ask where they had been but pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time. Blaine was still in the middle of his story.

Blaine drew a deep breath and looked around at the lot of them. “Something pushed me. I felt two hands press against my chest and shove. I lost my balance and the vat was right behind me.”

“Oh my God,” Nora whispered, a hand going to her mouth. Kurt had a sharp intake of breath. So he wasn’t the only one who had nearly lost his life. A part of him didn’t want Blaine to go on, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I used quick thinking. I reached out and grabbed a hold of the shelf at the last possible second. It fell with me,” Blaine went on. “I thought for sure I was a goner, but then, I found myself wrapped around the shelf hovering over the vat. So, I climbed around to the other side and slowly made my way down until I could put my feet on the floor. I didn’t want to take any other chances, so I grabbed a cement brick and ran up the stairs.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have locked that door,” Mr. Pritchard said. Blaine let out a watery laugh.

“I was on my way to find you when I saw the sheet hanging outside the window from the hallway. I couldn’t tell what it was from there so I decided to investigate.”

“And that’s when you found me climbing down from the second story,” Kurt finished. Blaine nodded his head. The two boys hugged each other tightly. No one said a word.

It was quiet for several moments before Ruth spoke. “This was a terrible idea,” she said. Everyone turned and looked at her. “None of us should have agreed to this. You could tell just by reading the daunting details that it wasn’t going to end well.”

More quiet followed her words before Lance stood up and looked around at everyone. “As far as we know, Annabelle Loren is dead. We don’t have a clue what happened to Mr. Loren. Kurt and Blaine have both had near brushes with fatal accidents. I say we all stay right here in the living room for the rest of the night.”

“What if someone has to go to the bathroom?” David asked.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Blaine muttered, only loud enough for Kurt to hear. Kurt gave him a wide-eyed look, but the curly haired boy shook his head, reassuring him that what he was thinking hadn’t happened, but if any more terrifying things happened, it was definitely a possibility for any of them.

“Then we go as a group, and keep talking to the person as much as possible while they’re in the bathroom,” Lance said. Kurt and Blaine could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t like the idea anymore than anyone else seemed to.

“We aren’t a pack of giggling girls,” Blaine said, before covering his mouth with his hand. Kurt blushed. He may not be a girl, but he’d often joined the pack of giggling girls. He was no stranger to the girl’s bathroom at McKinley.

Just then, the lights went out.

“Oh no, not again!” Kurt cried. He wrapped his arms around Blaine and clung to him as tightly as he dared.

Laughter started to boom and it sounded like it was coming from all around them.

“What’s happening?” David asked aloud.

“Lance I don’t like this!” came Nora’s voice from nearer to Kurt and Blaine than she had been previously. They suspected she might have thrown herself into the man’s arms.

The sound of a clock chiming began to echo around the room and the two boys held onto each other even tighter.

“You will all lose!” boomed a voice. The spectral vision of Mr. Loren’s head appeared hovering in the air. The women screamed and the men let out surprised shouts.

“What the hell?” Kurt hearn Lance say.

The floating head of Mr. Loren threw itself back and laughed, hard, loud, and maniacal. It was accompanied by the chiming of the clock. But it was supposedly past midnight. Why would the clock chime.

“Don’t you see?” Mr. Loren snickered. “In the house on haunted hill, time is obsolete.” His laughter returned as the face of a clock appeared hovering in the air. The hands spun around it in much the same effect used in time travel movies. “You will all be trapped here forever, until you meet your doom!”

His laughter began to be drowned out by the chiming of the clock. Kurt and Blaine could barely hear the voices of the people around them. They were starting to fade. The chiming got louder and louder and then suddenly…

…

The clock and the head of Mr. Loren vanished and the boys found themselves staring at rolling credits. They blinked and looked around. They were sitting on the couch in the Hudmel household. The film displayed on the television was at the end. The two of them were still wrapped tightly in one another’s arms.

“Wh-what just happened?” Blaine asked, not daring to move.

“I don’t know,” Kurt replied, shaking his head. Slowly, he pulled away from Blaine, reluctant to do so. He turned his head to the right. There was his cell phone, sitting on the end table. It was lit up with a text across the screen. Kurt picked it up. It was from his stepmom, letting him know that she and Burt were crashing in a hotel for the night after they’d had a little too much to drink at their Halloween party.

Despite everything, Kurt found himself breaking into laughter. The joy of seeing such a normal text in front of him was almost too much to bear. He scrambled up and switched on the lights in the living room. Both boys blinked as they were assaulted with the colored world of reality.

“Blaine,” Kurt started, tears streaming his face again. “We’re home.”

As if on cue, Blaine broke out in cheers. He jumped up from the couch and ran happily to the other boy, wrapping him in his arms. Kurt laughed again. He’d never been so happy to know that he was home.

He was so elated, that he pulled back and kissed Blaine firmly on the mouth. The other boy pulled away after a moment and stared at him in awe.

“Kurt?” he said in a quiet voice.

“I...I…” Kurt stammered, blushing so hard he had to duck his head. And suddenly Blaine smiled.

“I like you too,” he said and moved in to kiss Kurt again. The pale boy had to cling to Blaine’s shirt to keep his knees from giving out.

“Will you...go out with me then?” Kurt asked tentatively.

“On one condition,” Blaine replied and Kurt gave him a quizzical look. “No more watching scary movies at midnight.” Kurt laughed.

“Deal,” he said, and sealed it with a kiss.

#klainetober halloween extravaganza

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