Why I Feel This Way - 9/?

Apr 08, 2012 23:04


Title: Why I Feel This Way
Rating: R
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: AU
Warnings: Pet!Blaine,  typos and grammatical errors
Summary: Sequel to " Man's Best Friend" which you should definitely read first. After being reunited with Blaine, Kurt is beyond ecstatic, but life with pet turned lover in the Big Apple isn't exactly what Kurt had hoped for.



Kurt fumbled with his keys, dropping them twice and laughing giddily each time had had to pick them up again. He really wasn’t -that- drunk. He was more dancing the line between being happily tipsy and stupid drunk, but it had been a long time since he’d gone out and the relief of letting go of his stresses was compounding the goofy feeling the alcohol in his system was giving him. Finally, he managed to unlock his door and remember to take his keys out of the keyhole before stepping inside.

“Gotta be quiet, don’t wanna wake anyone,” Kurt whispered to himself as he hung up his coat and stepped out of his shoes.

He tiptoed to his bedroom, a bring grin on his face. He was giggly and happy and he felt like cuddling. When he got to his room, he undressed and draped his clothes over his hamper to be dealt with in the morning. He pulled on his pyjamas, eyeing the blanket cocoon Blaine had made on his bed longingly. First, though, he had to at least wash his face and brush his teeth.

A few minutes later, Kurt returned to the bedroom feeling a little more himself. He crawled up on the bed, wanting his cuddles. Pulling apart the cocoon, Kurt’s chest clenched in surprise when he realized there was no Blaine. Brow furrowed, Kurt slid off the bed and tiptoed out of the room and down the hall to the living room. The couch and rocking chair were both empty. Kurt bit his lip, trying to push down the panic rising in his throat.

He looked around the apartment a few times before taking a deep breath and knocking on Rachel’s door.

“Rachel,” he whispered loudly, poking his head into her dark bedroom. “Rachel, wake...”

Kurt stopped talking when he noticed Blaine’s form curled up at the foot of her bed. He was curled up with the blanket from the couch, like he had tried to drape it over himself but wasn’t able to get it quite right. Kurt wondered if Rachel knew Blaine was there or if he had come after she had went to bed, lonely because Kurt hadn’t yet returned.

The way he was laying at the foot of her bed was so very pet-like that it surprised Kurt. It brought to light just how much Blaine had grown in the time he had known him. He had changed so much from the boy with a puppy-like demeanor who had followed Kurt around his house and who had wrestled with Finn in the backyard on warm days. He had aged faster than time had gone by. More withdrawn; whatever naivety he had lost leaving him suspicious of every stranger and even, it seemed at times, of Kurt. He still had moments where his eyes sparkled with mischief or excitement but they were far between. He also seemed wiser, but Kurt winced when he thought to wonder if Blaine was perhaps just jaded.

Before the farm, before he had been torn from his lover and held a prisoner, he had loved without fear or apology. He seemed simultaneously stronger and weaker now. Kurt wasn’t sure which had shown him that better; the first night there had been a storm and Blaine had refused to look for comfort or early that very day when Blaine had pushed aside his pride and gone to him for comfort.

Kurt found himself wondering if there was any place Blaine could work nearby. He had experience now, from working at the farm. Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of applications for it in the city. But, Kurt wondered if it wouldn’t make Blaine feel better to had something that was his own, some form of independence from Kurt, something that was just his. But Kurt’s traitorous, alcohol addled brain kept twisting his thoughts away from him as he worked to have them.

He was trying to be lost in deep thought, but the alcohol tainted side of him was busy thinking much shallower thoughts and breaking into Kurt’s deeps ones with them. For example, he couldn’t help but enjoy the way Blaine’s shirt was pulled tight across his shoulders, though details were hard to make out in the dark. He let out a soft giggle when he imagined himself a cartoon character with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Kurt tried to go back to his little epiphanies over Blaine but his ‘tipsy’ state wouldn’t allow it for long and soon he found himself wishing to be taken from behind, doggy-style by his sweet puppy-Blaine who really wasn’t that puppyish anymore.

Kurt mentally berated himself for the inappropriate and demeaning thoughts that he couldn’t even believe had come from his own mind. Blaine could never be his lover and partner if he still thought of him as a pet. It had been him who had fought so hard to have people give some respect to the taskers and pets, to view them as humans. Here he was standing in his best friend’s bedroom doorway, staring lustfully at Blaine and thinking corruptive thoughts. He wanted to blame the alcohol, but the thought had still come from his own brain.

He really did want to be with Blaine again, but he had shocked himself with the ‘doggy’ thing that had seemingly came from nowhere. Was he actually as disgusting of a person as the kids at school had said? It almost seemed that way. Kurt felt his stomach begin to roll and he stumbled back into the hall and into the bathroom before heaving his stomach’s contents into the toilet. It had been some time since he had last drank. He flushed the toilet and moved to wash his face and hands in the sink, feeling slightly clearer of mind.

He wondered if he should leave Blaine to sleep on Rachel’s bed or if he should go wake him and bring him back to his own bed. He didn’t deserve Blaine’s company, but he wanted it so badly and he definitely didn’t want Blaine waking the next morning to Rachel and fearing Kurt hadn’t come home at all. It was with those thoughts that Kurt found himself tiptoeing into Rachel’s bedroom, which felt incredibly strange, and leaning down next to Blaine to whisper in his ear.

Blaine’s body tensed when he woke, as if he were fearful of who had woken him and expecting unwelcomed contact.

“It’s me,” whispered Kurt, and Blaine’s eyes opened, then.

Kurt had left on the bathroom light and it shone from down the hall, bringing enough light into the room that Kurt could see recognition soften Blaine’s eyes from where they had opened fearful wide.

“Let’s go to bed,” whispered Kurt, again, pushing the blanket from Blaine’s shoulders.

Blaine got up stiffly and crawled off the bed to follow Kurt to his room. Together, they made Kurt’s bed before climbing in and cuddling together. Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s chest and sighed happily before they both allowed themselves to drift to sleep.

---------------------

The next morning, Kurt woke with a throbbing headache to the sound of two bodies puttering around in the kitchen. He opened his eyes and winced when greeted by the bright sun shining in through his window. He was alone in his bed. Turning his head to glance at his alarm clock, he realized he hadn’t reset it after the thunder storm had reset it the day before. With a small groan, Kurt pulled himself out of bed and trudged to the bathroom to take a shower.

After showering, he stiffly dried himself off and got dressed in his room. Today he would go down to the coffee shop and apply for a job. It was an unfortunate situation, but he needed a paycheque and he could always quit if he ever did get a callback from any of the places he had applied. When he walked into the kitchen to find himself some breakfast, it was to see Blaine and Rachel standing at the sink companionably washing dishes together.

“We saved you some breakfast,” said Rachel brightly when she sensed Kurt’s presence. “It’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Kurt.

He stood watching Blaine and Rachel for a few moments. Rachel giggled when Blaine placed a dollop of soap suds on her nose he had scooped from the water. He grinned mischievously when she smacked his shoulder and warned him not to make a mess. Kurt smiled to himself before opening the refrigerator to investigate whatever it was Rachel had made for the breakfast that morning.

Kurt pulled the plate of vegan-style Banana French Toast from the fridge, with a small noise of delight and crossed the room to heat it up in the microwave. He had the microwave door open and was about to slip the place inside when Rachel noticed what he was doing.

“Kurt!” she screeched turning and crossing the short distance of the kitchen in two determined steps to take the plate from Kurt’s hand. “You do not reheat French toast in a microwave.”

Frowning, Kurt watched as Rachel pulled out the frying pan she had just dried and put away and placed it on the stove. She turned the dial to have the element heat up before turning to give Kurt a dire look.

“I don’t know why we even have a microwave,” sighed Kurt before rolling his eyes.

“It’ll make the French toast rubbery,” explained Rachel with a huff of annoyance.

Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned back against the counter near Blaine who was just finishing up with the dishes. Rachel flipped the toast a few times on the pan to keep it from overcooking as she warmed it up. When Blaine finished cleaning the last dish, he drained the sink and rinsed out the soap bubbles. Kurt watched Blaine with interest as he worked; now moving over to dry the dishes and put them away. It was a simple enough task but somehow he managed to do it with a meticulous charm that Kurt found himself charmed by.

“Your breakfast is served,” announced Rachel as she dramatically flipped the toast back onto the plate and passed it to Kurt.

“Thank you, Rachel,” said Kurt, taking the plate from her. “I’d have rubbery French toast without you.”

“You wouldn’t even have French toast without me,” huffed Rachel as she turned the stove off and set the pan aside to cool.

“You’re right,” laughed Kurt as he pulled open the cutlery drawer to find himself a fork and knife.

When he sat down at the dining room table he noticed the large, round clock on the wall and let out an exhale of surprise.

“Is it really already ten thirty?” exclaimed Kurt, turning sharply to where Rachel was standing at the edge of the kitchen. “You’re usually up so much sooner than this; I assumed it was still relatively early.”

“I have no plans today except to stay in and learn my lines,” replied Rachel with a shrug.

She flashed a bright smile at Blaine as he stepped out of the kitchen.

“I still can’t believe it is so late in the morning,” sighed Kurt.

“You slept it,” said Rachel with another shrug.

“I never sleep in,” replied Kurt in exasperation.

“You do when you’re hung over,” argued Rachel. “How late did you get in last night?”

“I’m not hung over,” grumbled Kurt, cutting into his French toast with slightly more force than what was probably necessary. “Maybe just a tad.”

“You’re a tad bit hung over,” amended Rachel with a ridiculous grin.

Kurt rolled his eyes before turning his attention to his meal instead of one Rachel Berry.

“So,” started Rachel after allowing him a few bites of his meal in peace. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I’m going to get a job,” answered Kurt after swallowing. “Shitty economy be damned.”

“Watch your mouth,” laughed Rachel, shaking her head. “Sometimes you’re as bad as your brother.”

Kurt shrugged.

---------------------

Kurt stepped into the coffee shop, resume in hand. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, though his internal fashion snob kept trying to tell him he had no reason to be, this job was so below him as it was. Kurt was nervous just the same. What if he couldn’t even get a job at a coffee shop? What then?

He approached the till as confidently as he could muster and asked if the manager was in. It was a slower time of the day so the coffee shop was fairly empty. The girl at the till quickly disappeared and then reappeared with a woman looking to be barely into her 30s.

“You needed to see the manager?” she asked, looking at Kurt questioningly.

“You had a Help Wanted sign in the window?” countered Kurt with a friendly smile.

She nodded and walked around to the side of the counter so that they would be out of the way. Kurt followed her from his own side. She looked pointedly at the sheet of paper in Kurt’s hand when they were standing together.

“Resume?” she asked.

“Uh,” stammered Kurt quickly handing her the sheet of paper. “Yes, here it is.”

Taking the sheet from Kurt, she scanned it over quickly before gesturing for him to follow her into the back. Kurt quickly followed her, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as if he were following a certain cheerleading coach into her office back in his high school days. This woman had a similar air to her, though, so far, she seemed to emit less insults.

“Kurt Hummel,” said the woman after they were in her make-shift office which was really just a small table pushed up against the corner of the supply room with a messy bulletin board hanging on the wall just above it. “Not a lot of work experience listed on here.”

Kurt bit his lip and nodded when she looked up from the paper to regard him.

“But,” she continued after the pause. “You really don’t need a whole lot of work experience to work here. If you’re literate, able to follow directions, and not a complete dumbass, you’ll do just fine.”

Kurt bit back a smile.

“I think I can live up to those requirements,” he said.

“We actually hired someone for the spot yesterday,” she said, pulling open a short filing cabinet sat under the table and pulling out a sheet of paper that looked like an employee list. “But they flaked on us this morning and now we’re short staffed today.”

Kurt watched with quelled optimism as she scribbled down his contact information on the side of the sheet, copied from his resume.

“The job pays minimum wage but there’s chances for raises if you work hard,” she continued, shoving the employee list back into the folder she had pulled it from before flipping through the folders in the drawer and shoving Kurt’s resume into another. “You get slightly fewer hours than full time because the owner ain’t paying no benefits to employees of a damn coffee shop, not that I blame her. I make the schedule a week to two weeks in advance, so if you need certain days off, you gotta give me a heads up, otherwise you can find someone else to cover for you on your own. Still interested?”

“Yes,” replied Kurt, he was going to say more but she nodded and continued.

“You get two shifts of training and then you’re on your own. It isn’t hard work, but there are things you need to know and remember. Since we’re short-staffed today, would you like to start now?”

“Oh,” exhaled Kurt in surprise. “Uh, yeah, sure, that’d be... great, actually.”

“I’m Pam, by the way,” she said, shoving a thin hand with colourful, manicured fingernails in his direction.

“Good to meet you, Pam,” stuttered Kurt, shaking her hand. “Can I just make a quick call before we get started?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll just get some paper work ready.”

Kurt pulled his cell from his messenger bag and stepped a few steps away from her for the sake of some sort of play at privacy in the tiny back room of Café Noir. He tapped his foot nervously as he waited for Rachel to answer her cell.

“Hello, Rachel Berry speaking,” came her chipper voice.

“Rachel,” whispered Kurt. “It’s a cell phone, you have caller ID, and so you knew it was me calling.”

“Yes, and?” asked Rachel.

“Nevermind,” sighed Kurt before continuing. “You said you were planning on being home all day, right?”

“Yes,” answered Rachel.

“Can you make sure Blaine gets some lunch?” asked Kurt, glancing back at Pam who was shuffling through some papers she had pulled from the filing cabinet. “I probably won’t be home for a few hours.”

“No problem,” replied Rachel, a smile in her voice. “He’s been helping me with me lines.”

“Umm... right,” responded Kurt, wondering how Blaine could help with lines. “I’ll be home later. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, love,” chirped Rachel right before hanging up without giving Kurt a chance to respond.

He pulled his cell away from his ear and gave it an incredulous look as if it could see and respond to his facial expression before putting it back into his bag.

“Ready?” asked Pam, looking up at him from her papers.

“Yep,” answered Kurt with a smile.

“First we need to get some paperwork out of the way,” she said as she leaned over the desk to read over the paper she had in front of her. “Do you know your Social Security Number?”

whyifeel, klaine, fic

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