Fic: In the Wake of His Dreams - Chapter 3
Title: In the Wake of His Dreams - Chapter 3
rating: PG-13 (will increase in later chapters)
word count: ~1,800 for this chapter / ~5,400 total
summary: It's the summer of 1926. The Hummels, wealthy heirs of a family that found their fortune in steamships, are vacationing at their mansion in Newport, Rhode Island. Kurt longs for a summer romance, just like in the books he spends his days reading. It's summer and anything is possible.
author's note: So I live in Rhode Island and have always loved the mansions. So I do what I always do with things I love: shove Klaine in there and make an AU. Forever thankful to Liz and Alana. I suppose beta is the correct word, but they're so much more than that. So thank you! Title stolen from a passage in The Great Gatsby. Come visit on Tumblr for snippets and what not.
The breeze drifts off the sea, ruffling Kurt's hair and fluttering the pages of his book. He's stretched out in one of the long lawn chairs, the wooden slats across his back mildly uncomfortable. He doesn't mind, though, because the weather is beautiful today and he's just had a new book delivered, The Sun Also Rises. He closes his eyes, imagines Pamplona and the bull fighting, lets the cool ocean air coast over his body and breathes it deep into his lungs.
Kurt reaches to the side of the chair, grabs hold to his glass of water that's sitting in the grass. He's taking a sip, mouth full, when he hears the maid's voice carry over. "Mr. Hummel, you have a visitor."
He's caught off guard, some of the water sloshing out of the glass and spilling onto his light grey trousers. He swears under his breath and brushes at his thighs, pressing at the dark stain until he realizes it's useless. He sighs and glances up, curious as to who would be visiting at this time in the afternoon.
"Blaine," Kurt breathes out, quickly pulling himself out of the chair and dropping his book behind him, hands immediately straightening his tie.
"Hello, Kurt. How are you today? Weather's beautiful," Blaine says conversationally. He walks over, feet shuffling in the grass. Blaine looks amazing, as he always does, Kurt's come to find. He really needs to ask Blaine the name of his tailor, if he works here in Newport or back in New York, because the way his clothes fit him is remarkable. His white button up is covered in a beige vest, fitted but not too tight, pulling across his chest and over his shoulders.
"Wonderful weather, yes. We've been lucky this summer. I'm hoping it's just as nice for the party on Friday," Kurt says as they make their way back into the house and out of the sun.
"It's the funniest thing, that's actually why I stopped by," Blaine says as they walk in step together, through the sunning room and into the parlor.
"Oh, how so?" Kurt asks as they come to a stop front of the central staircase.
"My wardrobe is limited here, never did get around to having the whole thing sent up. Do you think you have a spare pocket square I could borrow for the evening of the party?" Blaine's smile is beautiful and Kurt knows the answer is 'yes', no matter what the question was.
"You're more than welcome to borrow one," Kurt says as he leads them up the stairs and to his bedroom. "But couldn't you simply go into town and buy one?" They walk down the hallway and Kurt tries not to think about Blaine being in his bedroom, his father gone at the golf course for the day and his stepmother having afternoon tea with a neighbor.
Blaine just shrugs his shoulders, smile playing at his lips, as Kurt opens the heavy door leading into his bedroom. "I happened to think of you first."
They walk inside the room and Kurt feels instantly awkward. He's never had another person that wasn't a family member in his bedroom before, certainly no one as handsome as Blaine. Kurt makes himself busy, quickly walking over to his dresser and opening the top drawer to pick out a pocket square for Blaine's suit.
Blaine looks around, taking in the room with it's light blue walls, white trim lining the top. He walks over to Kurt's book shelf, scans the titles until he picks up Kurt's worn copy of The Great Gatsby. Blaine rubs at the spine of the book, fingers catching at the bottom and trailing across the title. "This is the reason we're in Newport for the summer," he says. He walks over to Kurt's window seat and sits down, opening the first page of the book and letting his eyes gloss over.
"I'm sorry, because of a book?" Kurt asks, slightly confused. He wants to go sit next to Blaine, kick their shoes off and tuck their feet under their legs. Lean back together while Kurt recites paragraphs from memory. Instead, he draws his attention back his dresser drawer to look for a pocket square.
"Mmm," Blaine hums and Kurt notices that's something he seems to do most times they're together. "We've always vacationed on Long Island over the summer. Our house there is beautiful and right on The Sound, just like in the book," Blaine explains, turning the pages too quickly to actually be reading them. "But thanks to Mr. Fitzgerald here, it's become sort of a zoo. Everyone wants to see a glimpse of Jay Gatsby for themselves." Blaine drops the book on the seat next to him and slides over, dragging himself along the cushion until he's closer to Kurt. He tugs at the bottom of Kurt's sleeve to get his attention. Kurt looks up from his drawer, hands still picking through the silk, and Blaine tugs on the sleeve a little harder, so Kurt bends over closer. "Here's a secret for you: he doesn't exist." Blaine grins like it's the funniest thing in the world and Kurt laughs along with him. "And these people clamoring to meet him, as if he's a real person, couldn't have possibly read the book."
"Well, I know he doesn't exist, and I know how the book ends, but it's a nice idea to think about all the same," he says as he turns back to his drawer, picking up fabrics and placing them back down, searching for the perfect pocket square to go with Blaine's suit for the party.
"Mmm," comes the hum from the cushioned bench and Kurt smiles.
"I'm sure this would be easier if you picked out a mask first," Kurt says more to himself than to Blaine. He picks up a square colored a deep blue, something like the ocean outside the window. He shakes his head and places it back in the drawer, his fingers plucking at other colors.
"My mother is leaving for Boston tomorrow and she'll have the masks made while she's there. She spoke about it over dinner last night and wants me to pick out a color," Blaine says, standing up and walking over to Kurt. He stands right behind him, his chest almost close enough to press into Kurt's back. "I know nothing about colors and you're always wearing the most fashionable clothes," Blaine says and Kurt can feel his breath tickle the back of his neck.
Kurt reaches in blindly and comes out with a pocket square that's dark red, deep and rich. "Here, this one. This one will do perfectly," he says quickly, closing the dresser drawer shut, pressing his chest up against it and putting a few inches between himself and Blaine. He gathers himself, takes a few deep breaths before turning around and facing Blaine. "Give this to your mother and have the mask maker match it. It shouldn't be completely red, but also have black with bits of white," Kurt says, focuses on colors and fabrics and not the way Blaine's vest shifts across his chest or the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth to wet his lips before speaking. He doesn't think about how the red of the pocket square would match the color on Blaine's lips if they kissed long enough.
Blaine takes a step closer and picks the pocket square out of Kurt's hands, twirls his fingers around it and admires the softness. "Positively certain I can borrow this?" Blaine asks softly, his eyes flicking from his own hands up to Kurt's eyes.
"Of course, keep it if you'd like. I have plenty," Kurt answers, butterflies bubbling in his stomach at the thought of Blaine wearing something of his.
"You're too kind, Kurt," Blaine says, shuffles his feet a little closer until the toes of his shoes bump into Kurt's. "Thank you."
Kurt sags back into the dresser a little and it puts him at the same height as Blaine. Their feet are touching, but their shoulders, chest and hips are still separated by a few inches. "If you'd like to come over before the party, I could help place it in your suit pocket correctly. Wouldn't want it to be crooked," Kurt offers, trying to make small talk, keep his lips occupied from other things he wishes they were doing.
Blaine laughs, casts his eyes down before looking back up to Kurt. "I think I'll manage. But thank you all the same." He leans in a little closer, puts his hands out on either side of Kurt's shoulder to grip the top of the dresser, closing him in. Kurt's breath stutters and he closes his eyes. This is it. This is the moment he's spent his summer reading about, the moment that all of the authors lining his book shelf have written about. Kurt tense for just a second before shifting his head closer to Blaine and --
The knock on the door startles Kurt so badly that he jerks back and bangs his elbow into the solid wood of his dresser, the cologne bottles rocking unsteadily on top of it before falling over. Kurt's eyes snap open to the door and he hears the maid call out, "excuse me, Mr. Hummel? Your father is on the telephone and wishes to speak to you."
Kurt clears his throat before calling out, "of course, Annie. I'll be right there." He chances a look at Blaine, who slowly removes his arms that were boxing Kurt in and drops them to his side. He steps to the side to let Kurt walk by. "I should probably take that," Kurt says, his voice strained and his eyes avoiding Blaine's at all costs. He feels embarrassed, his palms sweaty and his cheeks red just from being close to Blaine.
"Mmm, yes. You should," Blaine says. He reaches his hand out and tucks his finger under Kurt's chin, tilts his head up until Kurt meets his eyes. "Thank you again for your help today." He leans in quickly to place a kiss on Kurt's cheek, just a brush of lips against Kurt's blush tinted skin. "I'll see myself out." He turns and walks out of Kurt's room, fingers twirling around the silk caught in his fingers.
Kurt stands frozen as he watches Blaine leave, his eyes trailing up and down Blaine as he exists the room. He reaches his hand up to brush his cheek, the tips of his fingers feeling as though they're buzzing with electricity. He doesn't move, feet planted to the floor, until some minutes later when he hears Annie call out again, "Mr. Hummel? Your father on the telephone?" He shakes the thoughts out of his head and quickly leaves the room, casting a glance back at his dresser and the glass bottles strewn across the top.
rating: PG-13 (will increase in later chapters)
word count: ~1,800 for this chapter / ~5,400 total
summary: It's the summer of 1926. The Hummels, wealthy heirs of a family that found their fortune in steamships, are vacationing at their mansion in Newport, Rhode Island. Kurt longs for a summer romance, just like in the books he spends his days reading. It's summer and anything is possible.
author's note: So I live in Rhode Island and have always loved the mansions. So I do what I always do with things I love: shove Klaine in there and make an AU. Forever thankful to Liz and Alana. I suppose beta is the correct word, but they're so much more than that. So thank you! Title stolen from a passage in The Great Gatsby. Come visit on Tumblr for snippets and what not.
The breeze drifts off the sea, ruffling Kurt's hair and fluttering the pages of his book. He's stretched out in one of the long lawn chairs, the wooden slats across his back mildly uncomfortable. He doesn't mind, though, because the weather is beautiful today and he's just had a new book delivered, The Sun Also Rises. He closes his eyes, imagines Pamplona and the bull fighting, lets the cool ocean air coast over his body and breathes it deep into his lungs.
Kurt reaches to the side of the chair, grabs hold to his glass of water that's sitting in the grass. He's taking a sip, mouth full, when he hears the maid's voice carry over. "Mr. Hummel, you have a visitor."
He's caught off guard, some of the water sloshing out of the glass and spilling onto his light grey trousers. He swears under his breath and brushes at his thighs, pressing at the dark stain until he realizes it's useless. He sighs and glances up, curious as to who would be visiting at this time in the afternoon.
"Blaine," Kurt breathes out, quickly pulling himself out of the chair and dropping his book behind him, hands immediately straightening his tie.
"Hello, Kurt. How are you today? Weather's beautiful," Blaine says conversationally. He walks over, feet shuffling in the grass. Blaine looks amazing, as he always does, Kurt's come to find. He really needs to ask Blaine the name of his tailor, if he works here in Newport or back in New York, because the way his clothes fit him is remarkable. His white button up is covered in a beige vest, fitted but not too tight, pulling across his chest and over his shoulders.
"Wonderful weather, yes. We've been lucky this summer. I'm hoping it's just as nice for the party on Friday," Kurt says as they make their way back into the house and out of the sun.
"It's the funniest thing, that's actually why I stopped by," Blaine says as they walk in step together, through the sunning room and into the parlor.
"Oh, how so?" Kurt asks as they come to a stop front of the central staircase.
"My wardrobe is limited here, never did get around to having the whole thing sent up. Do you think you have a spare pocket square I could borrow for the evening of the party?" Blaine's smile is beautiful and Kurt knows the answer is 'yes', no matter what the question was.
"You're more than welcome to borrow one," Kurt says as he leads them up the stairs and to his bedroom. "But couldn't you simply go into town and buy one?" They walk down the hallway and Kurt tries not to think about Blaine being in his bedroom, his father gone at the golf course for the day and his stepmother having afternoon tea with a neighbor.
Blaine just shrugs his shoulders, smile playing at his lips, as Kurt opens the heavy door leading into his bedroom. "I happened to think of you first."
They walk inside the room and Kurt feels instantly awkward. He's never had another person that wasn't a family member in his bedroom before, certainly no one as handsome as Blaine. Kurt makes himself busy, quickly walking over to his dresser and opening the top drawer to pick out a pocket square for Blaine's suit.
Blaine looks around, taking in the room with it's light blue walls, white trim lining the top. He walks over to Kurt's book shelf, scans the titles until he picks up Kurt's worn copy of The Great Gatsby. Blaine rubs at the spine of the book, fingers catching at the bottom and trailing across the title. "This is the reason we're in Newport for the summer," he says. He walks over to Kurt's window seat and sits down, opening the first page of the book and letting his eyes gloss over.
"I'm sorry, because of a book?" Kurt asks, slightly confused. He wants to go sit next to Blaine, kick their shoes off and tuck their feet under their legs. Lean back together while Kurt recites paragraphs from memory. Instead, he draws his attention back his dresser drawer to look for a pocket square.
"Mmm," Blaine hums and Kurt notices that's something he seems to do most times they're together. "We've always vacationed on Long Island over the summer. Our house there is beautiful and right on The Sound, just like in the book," Blaine explains, turning the pages too quickly to actually be reading them. "But thanks to Mr. Fitzgerald here, it's become sort of a zoo. Everyone wants to see a glimpse of Jay Gatsby for themselves." Blaine drops the book on the seat next to him and slides over, dragging himself along the cushion until he's closer to Kurt. He tugs at the bottom of Kurt's sleeve to get his attention. Kurt looks up from his drawer, hands still picking through the silk, and Blaine tugs on the sleeve a little harder, so Kurt bends over closer. "Here's a secret for you: he doesn't exist." Blaine grins like it's the funniest thing in the world and Kurt laughs along with him. "And these people clamoring to meet him, as if he's a real person, couldn't have possibly read the book."
"Well, I know he doesn't exist, and I know how the book ends, but it's a nice idea to think about all the same," he says as he turns back to his drawer, picking up fabrics and placing them back down, searching for the perfect pocket square to go with Blaine's suit for the party.
"Mmm," comes the hum from the cushioned bench and Kurt smiles.
"I'm sure this would be easier if you picked out a mask first," Kurt says more to himself than to Blaine. He picks up a square colored a deep blue, something like the ocean outside the window. He shakes his head and places it back in the drawer, his fingers plucking at other colors.
"My mother is leaving for Boston tomorrow and she'll have the masks made while she's there. She spoke about it over dinner last night and wants me to pick out a color," Blaine says, standing up and walking over to Kurt. He stands right behind him, his chest almost close enough to press into Kurt's back. "I know nothing about colors and you're always wearing the most fashionable clothes," Blaine says and Kurt can feel his breath tickle the back of his neck.
Kurt reaches in blindly and comes out with a pocket square that's dark red, deep and rich. "Here, this one. This one will do perfectly," he says quickly, closing the dresser drawer shut, pressing his chest up against it and putting a few inches between himself and Blaine. He gathers himself, takes a few deep breaths before turning around and facing Blaine. "Give this to your mother and have the mask maker match it. It shouldn't be completely red, but also have black with bits of white," Kurt says, focuses on colors and fabrics and not the way Blaine's vest shifts across his chest or the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth to wet his lips before speaking. He doesn't think about how the red of the pocket square would match the color on Blaine's lips if they kissed long enough.
Blaine takes a step closer and picks the pocket square out of Kurt's hands, twirls his fingers around it and admires the softness. "Positively certain I can borrow this?" Blaine asks softly, his eyes flicking from his own hands up to Kurt's eyes.
"Of course, keep it if you'd like. I have plenty," Kurt answers, butterflies bubbling in his stomach at the thought of Blaine wearing something of his.
"You're too kind, Kurt," Blaine says, shuffles his feet a little closer until the toes of his shoes bump into Kurt's. "Thank you."
Kurt sags back into the dresser a little and it puts him at the same height as Blaine. Their feet are touching, but their shoulders, chest and hips are still separated by a few inches. "If you'd like to come over before the party, I could help place it in your suit pocket correctly. Wouldn't want it to be crooked," Kurt offers, trying to make small talk, keep his lips occupied from other things he wishes they were doing.
Blaine laughs, casts his eyes down before looking back up to Kurt. "I think I'll manage. But thank you all the same." He leans in a little closer, puts his hands out on either side of Kurt's shoulder to grip the top of the dresser, closing him in. Kurt's breath stutters and he closes his eyes. This is it. This is the moment he's spent his summer reading about, the moment that all of the authors lining his book shelf have written about. Kurt tense for just a second before shifting his head closer to Blaine and --
The knock on the door startles Kurt so badly that he jerks back and bangs his elbow into the solid wood of his dresser, the cologne bottles rocking unsteadily on top of it before falling over. Kurt's eyes snap open to the door and he hears the maid call out, "excuse me, Mr. Hummel? Your father is on the telephone and wishes to speak to you."
Kurt clears his throat before calling out, "of course, Annie. I'll be right there." He chances a look at Blaine, who slowly removes his arms that were boxing Kurt in and drops them to his side. He steps to the side to let Kurt walk by. "I should probably take that," Kurt says, his voice strained and his eyes avoiding Blaine's at all costs. He feels embarrassed, his palms sweaty and his cheeks red just from being close to Blaine.
"Mmm, yes. You should," Blaine says. He reaches his hand out and tucks his finger under Kurt's chin, tilts his head up until Kurt meets his eyes. "Thank you again for your help today." He leans in quickly to place a kiss on Kurt's cheek, just a brush of lips against Kurt's blush tinted skin. "I'll see myself out." He turns and walks out of Kurt's room, fingers twirling around the silk caught in his fingers.
Kurt stands frozen as he watches Blaine leave, his eyes trailing up and down Blaine as he exists the room. He reaches his hand up to brush his cheek, the tips of his fingers feeling as though they're buzzing with electricity. He doesn't move, feet planted to the floor, until some minutes later when he hears Annie call out again, "Mr. Hummel? Your father on the telephone?" He shakes the thoughts out of his head and quickly leaves the room, casting a glance back at his dresser and the glass bottles strewn across the top.