Fic: Sweet Music Man (8/?)
Media: Fic
Title: Sweet Music Man
Author: Elizabeth (ilovehummel)
Rating: T
Warnings: Boykisses
Spoilers: Everything up to 2x18
Pairings: Klaine, Burt/Blaine
Summary: A series of unfortunate and life changing circumstances cause Burt and Blaine to form an unlikely friendship based on their unconditional love for Kurt. Meanwhile Kurt and Blaine find strength in each other to move on and find their happily ever after together.
A/N: Sorry it took so freakin long to post this!!! I had it ready a couple days ago I just wanted to make sure that it was what I wanted. It thought of about eight different ways this could go. Hope you like it.
Previous Chapter
September 28, 2011
As it turned out, Burt and Blaine had a lot in common. Some days they would work together at the shop, putting together old engines and helping each other lift parts, all while talking about football or talking about music. Burt had looked up some of those weird and sometimes just plain awkward artists that Blaine liked and Blaine had in turn practiced Mellencamp for two glee club assignments.
Burt may not have cared that his kid was “queer as a three dollar bill” as he so often put it. Gay didn’t matter to him. But he sometimes found himself wishing that Kurt was the kind of gay that Blaine was. Blaine was almost straight gay, if such a thing was possible. He liked cars and he obsessively watched football and a t-shirt and jeans were all the fashion he needed.
It wasn’t that Burt would ever trade his kid for someone like Blaine. Blaine had lots of faults too. Like he was a little weak. Before the accident, Kurt could catch Finn off guard and wrestle him to the floor, then turn around and prance through the house in a tutu. Blaine also had a bit of a temper. A bad day at school could have him throwing stuff around the kitchen in an angry fit that could only be calmed by Kurt wheeling himself in there and grabbing his hand, telling him everything would be all right.
But other than that, Burt almost found himself wishing Kurt was more like Blaine. A little more masculine. A little more willing to try to be interested in the things Burt liked.
Except when Burt looked at Kurt all he could see was his son. His kid. Tired and broken and needed his father.
When Burt looked at Blaine, he saw someone else’s son, tired and broken and needing anyone to love him.
Burt wanted both boys to feel loved and accepted. He split his time as best he could, watching The Sound of Music with Kurt until he fell asleep, then turning on some football game or another to watch with Blaine.
Kurt’s recovery was coming along slowly. They no longer had to explain the situation to Kurt every morning, but they had moved into a new stage. Kurt would ask the same question three times in a row sometimes, or he would tell the same stories over and over, or he’d want to watch the same movie every day because he forgot he watched it the day before.
The only one who seemed to be keeping up their patience was Blaine. He didn’t mind watching the Aristocats twelve times over the course of a week because Kurt was “in the mood to watch it”.
Burt was in awe of Blaine sometimes. He wanted to learn from Blaine. He needed to learn Blaine’s patience and tolerance. He wanted to know how Blaine so easily accepted that Kurt was broken and needed to be healed. He wanted to be able to go about his day as if nothing was wrong at home.
Because Burt almost envied this boy for the love and gentleness and kindness he could show Kurt despite how utterly frustrating this all was, Burt felt the need to reward Blaine. Since that first football game, he pulled strings and got them tickets to four other games, sometimes taking Finn and sometimes going just the two of them. Blaine was always hesitant to leave Kurt, but Carole just assured them she would take care of him. She didn’t mind watching the same movies over and over again anyway.
Blaine, always thinking of Kurt, feared that there might be a chance that Kurt could become jealous by all the time he was spending with Burt, so whenever they left whether it be to a football game or just bowling, they left when Kurt was asleep. Unfortunately, this didn’t stop Kurt from catching on, regardless of his inability to remember things.
One afternoon when Carole had to work and Burt was staying home until Blaine got home from glee rehearsal, Kurt wheeled himself into the garage where Burt was building a rail to the ramp on the front steps he was building. Burt was startled at first but the sound of Kurt’s wheelchair, but he smiled at the sight of his son moving around by himself.
“Why have you been spending so much more time with Blaine than you have with me or Finn?” Kurt asked, looking up at Burt seriously. Burt set his tools down and leaned on the work bench. He let out a long sigh and tried not to look Kurt in the eye.
“Did Blaine tell you about why he’s staying here?” Burt asked.
“He said he wanted to be close to take care of me and now that he’s eighteen he can do whatever he wants,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. Burt took his hat off and rubbed a hand over his head a few times before replacing the hat.
“His dad kicked him out, Kurt.” Burt turned to look at Kurt, finally looking into those beautiful blue eyes that reminded him so much of his first true love. They were brimming with tears at this news. “When Blaine said he wanted to stay with you, his father kicked him out and we let him come stay here in your room.”
“I-In my room?” Kurt asked. “I thought he was…he’s in my room?”
“Yes, Kurt. He’s been there for months now,” Burt said. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I promise, he’s still living out of his suitcase.”
Kurt’s eyes were red from holding back the tears and his whole face was flushed pink. He just nodded and wheeled himself back into the living room that he’d been calling home since he returned from the hospital.
When Blaine got home, they found Kurt sitting at the base of the stairs, looking up them longingly, his hands gripping the wheels of his chair. Blaine dropped his backpack on the floor and knelt beside Kurt, who had been crying for the last hour.
“I’m so sorry about your dad,” Kurt cried, reaching for Blaine’s hand. “I love you.”
“I love you so much, Kurt. It’s ok. You’re worth so much more than he ever was to me,” Blaine promised him, kissing their entwined fingers.
“I wanna go upstairs,” Kurt said. “I’m so tired of being stuck down here. I want to go to my room.”
Blaine’s eyebrows drew together. They were a lot of stairs to carry Kurt up and quite frankly Blaine didn’t know if he was that strong. Kurt may be in a wheelchair, but he was still bigger than him.
“Please,” Kurt pleaded. “Take me upstairs, Blaine, please. I need to go up there. Please!”
“Ok,” Blaine said, mostly just to get Kurt to stop sounding so broken. He extracted his fingers from Kurt’s and slid one arm under Kurt’s knees. Kurt slid one arm around Blaine’s shoulders - they’d perfected the art of Blaine lifting him in and out of the chair - and held on tightly. Blaine was used to only carrying him short distances, but lifting him up the stairs proved surprisingly easy. Kurt had lost a lot of weight since the accident, mostly in muscle mass.
“Thank you,” Kurt said, his words muffled as he pressed his face against Blaine’s neck. He held on tightly and looked up as they reached the upstairs hallway. It hadn’t changed much in the last few months. They reached Kurt’s closed bedroom and Blaine instructed him to hold on tight while he extended the arm holding Kurt’s legs and twisted the door knob.
The door swung open and revealed Kurt’s room. It was exactly the same minus Kurt’s skin supplies and plus Blaine’s open suitcases on the floor. Blaine set him down on the bed and stood up straight, rubbing his palms on his thighs and looking around the room.
“I tried not to change it too much,” Blaine said.
“It smells like you,” Kurt said.
Blaine felt his cheeks get a little warm. He told Kurt he’d be right back, and he disappeared out the door, only to come back a minute later with his backpack and Kurt’s wheelchair. He set it by the foot of the bed in case Kurt wanted to get around by himself.
“Blaine?” Kurt looked up at him with those wide blue eyes that Blaine loved so much.
“Yes?” Blaine sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Their thighs touched, and Blaine wondered if Kurt could feel it. He’d said before that he could feel his legs and he could feel with Blaine put his hand on his knee and rubbed gently, but for some reason he just couldn’t make his legs work.
“Will you kiss me?” Kurt asked, reaching over and putting his hand over Blaine’s.
“Yeah,” Blaine said. He leaned closer to Kurt, not wanting to go all the way. Kurt met him halfway, hesitantly pressing his lips against Blaine’s. They’d kissed a few times since Kurt came home, but they’d never shared more than a few chaste kisses on the couch in the living room when Burt, Carole, and Finn weren’t hovering around.
Kurt reached a hand up and twined it in Blaine’s now long curly hair, fisting his fingers in the curls tightly. His lips parted and his tongue darted out, wetting Blaine’s lips. Blaine let out a small gasp and Kurt took the opportunity to slide his tongue into Blaine’s mouth, swiping it across Blaine’s tongue.
Blaine’s hand reached up and cupped Kurt’s cheek in his palm. He leaned closer and pressed his tongue against Kurt’s until Kurt granted him access to his mouth. Blaine opened his mouth a little wider, tasting and smelling Kurt, completely wrapped up in the sensation of Kurt. The blue-eyed boy pressed closer until their torsos twisted so that their chests were pressed together.
“Oh Kurt,” Blaine pulled away enough to whisper against Kurt’s lips.
“Less talking. More kissing.” Kurt darted his tongue out to lick across Blaine’s bottom lip, dragging out a low moan from deep in Blaine’s throat. He repeated the motion several more times before pulling back.
“What?” Blaine asked, stroking his thumb over Kurt’s cheekbone.
“Will you help me lay down?” Kurt asked, a little breathless.
“Yeah. Of course.” Blaine stood up, hovering over Kurt as he helped him move his legs so he could lie in the center of the bed. He looked up at Blaine from behind half closed eyelids. Blaine crawled over the bed and settled beside Kurt. He rested one hand on Kurt’s stomach, feeling quivering muscles beneath his hand.
“I love you,” Kurt said before tangling his hand in Blaine’s hair again. He pulled the dark haired boy down until Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s again. They kissed lazily for a long time, tasting each other and just being close.
Blaine moved to press gentle kisses along Kurt’s perfect jaw before letting his tongue dart out to lick the shell of Kurt’s ear. Kurt sucked in a quick gasp and trembled, reaching out to grasp Blaine’s arm tightly.
“Don’t stop doing that,” Kurt whimpered. Blaine chuckled, then breathed hotly on Kurt’s ear, making Kurt quiver.
He moved his way down, nipping and sucking at the soft, perfect porcelain skin of Kurt’s neck. He made it down to Kurt’s collarbone, revealed by the wide neck of the purple sweater he wore.
“Blaine…” Kurt whined. He clutched at Blaine, his breath coming out in little gasps.
Blaine was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to touch Kurt. His fingers slid down to the hem of the sweater and pushed it up enough that he could slip his hand over the soft, almost pure white skin that covered the slight muscles.
“Oh god, Blaine,” Kurt gasped. Blaine smiled against his skin and moved up, pressing his lips to Kurt’s again. Suddenly, Kurt turned his face away from Blaine’s, his hands clutching Blaine’s shirt and his cheeks turning bright pink.
“What is it?” Blaine asked, pulling his hand away from Kurt, looking worried.
“I just…I don’t…I’m…” Kurt glanced downward. Blaine followed his gaze and oh. So Blaine wasn’t the only one really enjoying this. Kurt let out a short, high pitched giggle. “I guess that answers that question.”
“What question?” Blaine asked, looking back up at Kurt’s face to avoid making it more awkward than it was.
“If I can still get, you know…” Kurt blushed even harder. Blaine smiled and pressed his lips to Kurt’s once more.
“Maybe we should…”
“Yeah.” Kurt nodded and propped himself up with his elbows behind him. Blaine rolled to the edge of the bed, trying to hide his own evidence of how much he had been enjoying it.
“Let’s watch a movie or something. I have my laptop,” Blaine suggested.
“Ok,” Kurt said. “You pick.”
Blaine smiled and promised him he’d be right back. All their movies were downstairs, so he hurried downstairs and grabbed three movies. Hurrying back upstairs, he found that Kurt had moved himself to his wheelchair and currently occupied his closet.
“I am so far behind it’s not funny,” Kurt announced when he heard Blaine close the door.
“Best not to dwell on that,” Blaine said, laughing as Kurt wheeled himself out of the closet with a pair of sweatpants draped over his lap. Blaine understood his silent, slightly ashamed request for help changing. He helped him for a minute, trying not to notice how Kurt had managed to calm himself down from their little make out session. Once Kurt was back on the bed and he settled next to him, Blaine popped a dvd into his laptop.
“What movie?” Kurt asked, snuggling his head against Blaine’s shoulder.
“Aristocats,” Blaine said.
“No,” Kurt said. “I saw that yesterday.”
There was no way Kurt could comprehend just how much that one phrase meant to Blaine.
. ~ . ~ .
October 8, 2011
12:41 AM
The Buckeyes game ran late, and when Burt and Blaine arrived home, they found the living room dark and empty, save for a small lamp and an angry looking Kurt right in the middle of it. Kurt had taken to sleeping upstairs in his bed with Blaine lately, appealing to his father by saying he slept better and felt safer in his own bed with Blaine beside him. Tonight, Kurt had agreed to sleep in the living room.
Except he appeared to have forgotten any such agreement.
“You guys were out for a long time,” Kurt said. His arms were folded in front of his chest, fingers curled tightly into the palms of the fingerless gloves that Artie had given him as a gift.
“We went to a game,” Blaine said. “It wasn’t that great. Buckeyes lost and it was too cold.”
“Did you guys ever think that maybe I’d like to go to a game with you?” Kurt asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring up at Blaine. “Or maybe I’d like to spend some time with my dad, just the two of us.”
“I’m sorry, Kurt. Blaine just…he needs a buddy right now,” Burt said.
“Blaine has a lot of buddies! Blaine has all my friends. He sees them every day when he goes to school. Blaine has legs that work. Blaine gets to sing with everyone and Blaine has everything. I’m stuck here in this house in this fucking wheelchair watching while my boyfriend goes out and does fun things everyday with my friends and my stepbrother and my dad. Did you guys ever think that maybe I need someone? Maybe I might enjoy going out? Everyone treats me like I’m a baby and I’m not!”
Kurt raised his voice until he was yelling hoarsely at them. Blaine looked hurt and Burt looked a little frustrated. Kurt was crying, his body shaking in the wheelchair with the effort to hold himself together.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Kurt,” Blaine said softly. He moved closer, bending down to get eyelevel with Kurt.
“Get away from me,” Kurt spat. He avoided looking at Blaine. “Why did you walk away from that accident? Why did you get to be ok and I have to be stuck like this?”
“I don’t know, Kurt, but I’m sorry. I wish every single day that it was me here, in this wheelchair, forgetting things. I wish every single second of every minute of every day that you were able to go to school and sing in that glee club and go shopping with Mercedes. I want nothing more than to give you the life you deserve, Kurt, but I can’t. And while you watch me try to have fun, you seem to be getting the wrong idea. It sucks just as much for me as it does for you because I don’t get to go to college or be a singer or an actor like I wanted. I’ve given that up because you’re more important to me. I don’t want you to ever forget how much I love you, Kurt. That’s all that matters to me,” Blaine said, trying to hold Kurt’s hand for the duration of the speech. Kurt just backed his chair away from Blaine.
“I think I’ll sleep down here tonight.” Kurt wheeled himself towards the couch and with no regard to his dad or his boyfriend, he hoisted himself up on the couch cushions and struggled to make himself comfortable.
Burt and Blaine knew that helping him now would just hurt him, so they let him be.
. ~ . ~ .
October 14, 2011
7:32 PM
For some reason unknown to himself, Blaine was invited to a party. He wasn’t going to go to this part, for fear of making Kurt feel more left out than he already did, but Santana and Quinn promised that it would be a good time. Not that he quite trusted Santana or Quinn, but he really just needed a good time. Since Kurt’s outburst, Blaine and Burt hadn’t spent a single minute together.
Kurt was getting worse. His memory was getting better, but his attitude was steadily declining. Blaine was now the one sleeping on the couch. He helped Kurt bathe and get dressed and into bed, but then he was banished to the pullout couch downstairs. He respected that Kurt wanted some space, but he felt that Kurt wanted it for all the wrong reasons.
So to get away from Kurt’s constant snapping and unhappiness, Blaine accepted the invitation to the party. He’d been to parties and gotten drunk before, but seeing how unhappy the ensuing shenanigans had made Kurt, he vowed not to do it again.
But now, for another reason unknown to himself, Blaine sat on the floor of some football player’s basement, clutching his third - or was it fourth? He couldn’t keep track - beer while Santana and Brittany did body shots.
“Come on gay, have a little fun,” Santana demanded. Blaine smirked. Since his first day at McKinley, she’d called him “gay” or “Kurt’s lover”. He wasn’t even sure she knew his name.
“I can’t,” Blaine whined. Damn. This alcohol was getting to him. He tipped the bottle back and let the beer slide down his throat, chugging more than sipping.
“Why? Oh god, you’re not a horny drunk, are you?” Santana groaned before tipping back the tequila shot and sucking the lime into her mouth.
“Maybe,” Blaine said. “Maybe not.”
Santana poured him a tequila shot and handed him a wedge of lime.
“Take this. Auntie Tana’s home remedy for seventy-three kinds of pain. Yours has got to be on that list somewhere,” Santana said. Blaine chuckled dryly and tipped back the shot.
It took three more before Blaine finally, for the first time since they met, stopped thinking about Kurt.
Thanks for reading! For those tumblr people out there, I changed my url so it is now you-had-me-at-skin-tight-jeans. Follow me if you like. I like recs, fic ideas, and Klaine stuff.
Next Chapter