Fic: Sweet Music Man (9/?)
Media: Fic
Title: Sweet Music Man
Author: Elizabeth (ilovehummel)
Rating: R
Warnings: Attempted Noncon
Spoilers: Everything up to 2x18
Pairings: Klaine, Burt/Blaine friendship
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: Thanks for everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. Please note the rating increase and the warnings. You're going to hate me for this, I am warning you now. Sorry it's so short. The next one will be longer, I promise.
Previous Chapter
Later that night
October 15, 2011
1:58 AM
Burt checked he watched again, then peeked out the curtain to look at the driveway. Blaine wasn’t home yet. Finn had arrived three hours before, slightly buzzed and apologizing profusely for losing Blaine somewhere at the party. They put a worried Kurt to bed then, saying Blaine would be fine. He was a good, responsible guy. Burt was relieved when Kurt went to bed.
Worrying about Blaine was difficult when Kurt was up. He couldn’t tell his son this, but his attitude as of late had been a bit of a stress inducer. Kurt was always unhappy, saying he wanted more. He wanted to go out. He wanted to see his friends. He wanted to go shopping. Whenever Burt gave Kurt an opportunity to do just that, Kurt decided he didn’t want to be seen in a wheelchair. He didn’t want his friends to look down on him.
Once Kurt was off to bed, there was one less nagging voice to make him have to worry about everything. He turned his attention back to the driveway, where the garage light lit up the pavement, waiting to see if Blaine would make it home. He hadn’t called or even sent a text or anything and Burt was really starting to worry Blaine had done something stupid.
Just when he was about to give up, a car pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the house. Burt squinted to see who it was and it looked like some of those kids in that glee club. It parked and a girl got out of the front seat and opened the back. Burt found himself out of the front door of the house, walking across the lawn as Rachel stood up straight, a very drunk Blaine draped half over her.
“Hey Mr. Burt Hummel is here!” Blaine announced loudly, jabbing a finger in the air at Burt. Rachel looked up at him with a distressed look.
“Mr. Hummel, thank goodness. Blaine called me from the party and asked me to come get him. He’s…he threw up out the window halfway here. Santana said he had more to drink than anyone,” Rachel said as she handed Blaine over to Burt.
“Thanks, Rachel,” Burt said. “At least someone is responsible.”
She gave him a small smile and retreated to her car.
Blaine slung his arms around Burt’s neck and pressed his face into Burt’s shoulder.
“You comin’ to rescue me. That’s soooo nice,” Blaine said, his words slurred together. He looked up at Burt with a wide smile.
“Let’s get you inside,” Burt said gruffly. He wanted to be angry, but now it was no use. He’d yell at the boy in the morning when his head hurt and he could remember things.
“I’d kiss you…but that’d be gross ‘cause you’re Kurty’s daddy,” Blaine said, stumbling over his own clumsy feet as they headed into the house.
“How about you just go to bed in here.” Burt tried to usher him into the living room and get him lying on the couch. Blaine immediately rolled off and landed face down on the floor. He began laughing loudly as he pressed his face against the carpet.
“What’s so funny?” Burt asked, humoring the drunk boy.
“The floor smells like floor!” Blaine laughed. Burt rolled his eyes and watched as Blaine pushed himself up to his knees. “I’ma gonna go upstairs and say g’night to Kurty. Give him a kiss g’night. A kissy kiss kiss right on his lips and show him how much I looooooooove him!”
“No, Blaine, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Burt said. He didn’t want Blaine disrupting Kurt, keeping him from getting rest. But almost as soon as he said that, his phone vibrated and he fished it out of his pocket. It was an old flip phone, but he’d been using it to communicate whenever Kurt needed anything.
It was a text message from Kurt that read, “let him come up just to shut him up”.
Burt heaved a disapproving sigh and leaned over to help Blaine to his feet.
“Kurty wants to seeee meeee!” Blaine sung happily, the words slurring together as Burt helped him upstairs. He made no effort to quiet the boy. Burt knew why he was drunk. It was obvious. Kurt had been making them all want to do stupid things lately. He would allow Blaine this just once. The boy would be so hung over in the morning that he’d be miserable enough to never drink again.
“Kurty wants to see me. Kurty wants to see me. Kurty wants to see me.” Blaine chanted over and over under they made it to Kurt’s room, pushing open the door.
Kurt was sitting up in bed. The lamp on the nightstand was on, lighting up a small section of the room. Blaine gasped when he saw Kurt and stumbled over to him.
“Kurty!” Blaine cried out, hugging Kurt.
Burt stood in the middle of the room, watching as Blaine collapsed on the bed half on top of Kurt. He didn’t approve one bit, but Kurt smiled a little up at him as Blaine buried his face in Kurt’s chest. Kurt stroked Blaine’s wild curly hair and hugged the drunk boy close.
“Nothing inappropriate,” Burt warned.
“Of course not, Dad,” Kurt said. “I’m not about to take advantage of him when he’s drunk.”
Burt glared at Blaine for a moment, then nodded and stepped out of the room. Before he closed the door, he told Kurt he was going to bed and asked him to keep Blaine quiet.
As soon as they were alone, Blaine sat up and leaned forward, kissing Kurt hard and sloppy. Kurt pushed him off and smiled up at him.
“You’re cute like this,” Kurt said. “You didn’t make out with Rachel, did you?”
“Nope, nope, nope. I’m gay. Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay. Gay and taken. I’m yours, Kurty. All yours.” Blaine held his hand over his heart as if making a promise. Kurt smiled, and it made Blaine grin wildly.
“I’m glad you’re mine,” Kurt said, tugging him down to lay beside him.
“Wanna kiss Kurty,” Blaine said. He moved so he was hovering over Kurt, kissing him wetly. Kurt hummed beneath him, opening his mouth and letting Blaine in. He tasted like lime and alcohol and a little like barf. Kurt pushed him off, feeling his throat constrict with the effort not to throw up at the taste.
“You need a tic tac. Or a box of tic tacs,” Kurt grumbled, both his palms flat on his chest to keep Blaine off him.
“’s not that bad.” Blaine pulled Kurt’s hands away and aggressively dived back in, his tongue in Kurt’s mouth, pushing Kurt’s head back against his pillow. One hand held Kurt’s jaw open, ignoring Kurt’s whimpered protests. His other hand stroked Kurt’s chest roughly, his palm pressing down hard as it ran down Kurt’s stomach.
“Blaine stop!” Kurt whimpered, trying to pull away. Blaine didn’t. He silenced Kurt’s whimpers by covering his mouth completely. His hand kept going, sliding under the sheet that covered Kurt’s lower body, under the waistband of his pajama pants.
Kurt’s body stiffened and he struggled to try and stop Blaine’s hand. Blaine curled his fingers around Kurt, only the fabric of his boxers separating them. He stroked roughly, bringing Kurt to half-hardness against his will. Blaine draped his body over Kurt’s, feeling his own arousal thrumming through his intoxicated body.
Falling limp beneath his boyfriend, Kurt willed himself not to cry. This wasn’t Blaine. He was under the influence. He didn’t know what he was doing. Blaine, his Blaine, wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t be touching Kurt in a way they’d never touched before. He wouldn’t be going against every commitment they’d made to each other. He wouldn’t be taking advantage of Kurt.
“Stop stop stop stop stop!” Kurt turned his head and Blaine’s lips landed on his jaw, sucking softly and wetly as he pulled his hand out of Kurt’s pajama pants. He pressed his hips against Kurt’s, groaning against Kurt’s neck as their erections slid together.
Kurt was so confused. He didn’t even think someone could get aroused like that when they were this drunk. He wanted Blaine to stop. Blaine was supposed to keep him safe! It didn’t matter that every touch of Blaine’s fingers set Kurt’s skin on fire, filling him with life and desire he never felt before. Blaine was supposed to ask him if it was ok to touch him like that.
But now, now Blaine was rutting aimlessly against Kurt, his tongue sliding sloppily over Kurt’s pale skin as he struggled to hold himself up.
“Blaine…please,” Kurt cried. Blaine took that as a request for more, pressing harder, moving faster. Kurt reached up and gripped Blaine’s shoulders, pushing him off as hard as he could.
Blaine finally stopped. He rolled over onto his side and looked at Kurt’s face in the dark. Kurt was terrified, blue eyes wide and brimming with tears as he looked down at his own body, ashamed.
“Why did you do that?” Kurt asked.
Blaine didn’t know. His face fell as it sunk through his drunken haze that he’d done something wrong. That Kurt didn’t like it. That Kurt didn’t want it.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine slurred. “Love you, Kurty.”
He collapsed beside Kurt, still very clearly aroused, but no longer conscious.
. ~ . ~ .
October 15, 2011
7:45 AM
Kurt hadn’t slept since Blaine got home. He couldn’t. Not with what Blaine had done. He’d just sat there, wishing his legs worked so he could curl up and hug his knees to his chest. To hide himself from his boyfriend who slumbered on, still in his clothes, unaware of anything and everything.
He tried to calm himself down. He really did. He knew Blaine wouldn’t remember what he had done and Kurt didn’t know if that made the situation better or worse.
Blaine groaned beside him, rolling over onto his stomach and pulling a pillow over his head.
“Kurt,” Blaine snapped. “Stop breathing so loud.”
Kurt held his breath for a moment, watching Blaine with wide eyes, trying to calm himself. Blaine wouldn’t hurt him now. Blaine was awake and aware (sort of).
Blaine sat up after a few minutes and looked at Kurt, catching his wide and worried eyes. The pained look on his face faded and he crossed his legs, reaching for Kurt’s hand. Kurt flinched away at first, then realized Blaine’s innocent intention and let him hold his hand.
“What’s the matter, Kurt?” Blaine asked, speaking softly and flinched at the sound of his own voice. His head hurt like a thousand bitches, but Kurt was his first priority.
“N-Nothing,” Kurt said, smiling at him.
“Are you hurt?” Blaine asked. Kurt shook his head quickly, forcing himself to wipe all traces of unease from his expression.
“No,” Kurt insisted. “I just have to pee, is all. Can you take me to the bathroom?”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Kurt did have to go to the bathroom. He felt a little sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Blaine helping him in the bathroom, seeing his body and the parts of him that he’d forcefully touched.
“Yeah, sure,” Blaine nodded, instantly regretting it. He climbed off the bed slowly and brought Kurt’s wheelchair around to the side. Kurt was getting better at getting himself in the chair, so Blaine let him, helping him only a little bit.
He wheeled Kurt to the bathroom, sensing there was something wrong. Waves of tension radiated from his boyfriend’s body and every time he touched him, Kurt flinched. There was something going on with Kurt. But Kurt wouldn’t tell him unless Kurt wanted to tell him, so he didn’t press the matter.
After Kurt was done in the bathroom, Blaine helped him back to his room and left him alone to choose his outfit for the day. Blaine took care of himself in the bathroom and decided to venture downstairs while he waited for Kurt.
Downstairs, Burt and Carole stood at the island in the kitchen, sipping cups of coffee.
“Someone’s up early,” Carole said, chuckling at Blaine. She gestured towards a half full glass of water and two aspirins on the counter. He muttered a thank you, rubbed his palm over his eyes, then popped the pills in his mouth and gulped the contents of the glass quickly.
“Is Kurt all right?” Burt asked. Blaine mumbled something in the affirmative. “You were pretty drunk last night, kid.”
“That would be why I don’t remember how I ended up in Kurt’s bed smelling like tequila and barf,” Blaine said, instantly regretting mentioning barf. His stomach twisted and he put a hand over his mouth.
“We need to have a talk about that, Blaine,” Carole said sweetly, speaking softly, aware of Blaine’s pounding headache.
“What is there to talk about? I went to a party. I got hammered,” Blaine shrugged. He wanted to say it was because of Kurt, but he loved Kurt. Kurt wouldn’t push him to do anything bad. It was his own stupidity.
“Did it ever occur to you that it was a drunk driver that landed us all in this mess?” Burt asked, not bothering to stay quiet like his wife.
“No. I wasn’t thinking. Is that what you want to hear? I was being stupid and I got drunk. I’m sorry, but this is hard on me too!” Blaine slammed his fist on the counter. “I just want Kurt to understand that. He’s just pushing me away so much and it’s hard.”
Burt wanted to be angry, and Carole wanted to lecture him, but at that moment they could hear Kurt calling from upstairs that he needed someone to help him. Blaine ran a hand through his hair, getting it caught on a tangle of curls.
“I’ll go,” Blaine said. He hurried out of the kitchen and upstairs.
. ~ . ~ .
October 28, 2011
3:24 PM
“Come on, guys. Sectionals is in two weeks. We need to get a set list together. I propose that since Blaine and I are proven to have outstanding vocal chemistry, we begin the set with an emotional ballad,” Rachel proposed during one of their late, after school glee club rehearsals.
“Where is Boozy McButtboy, anyway?” Santana drawled lazily from the back of the classroom, examining her nails like she was bored.
Everyone looked around, having just realized that Blaine wasn’t in rehearsal. Just as they began to murmur, wondering if anyone knew the answer to that question, there was a knock on the door to the choir room.
“Hey everyone!” Blaine said cheerily. Everyone turned to see not only Blaine, but also Blaine pushing Kurt in his wheelchair. “Kurt’s been dying to get out of the house, so I went home and picked him up.”
They all instantly surrounded Kurt, hugging him and asking him how he was. Rachel, Quinn, Puck, Mercedes, and Sam were the only ones who had stopped by and seen Kurt since his welcome home party. Everyone else was glad for this opportunity to see their friend.
Blaine stepped away from the group that swarmed around Kurt and retreated to sit beside Finn, who just watched the group around his stepbrother. Finn had been spending more nights at other people’s houses than he had his own. Since Blaine had come home drunk twice more - although for reasons still unknown to Blaine, Kurt had requested that Burt not allow drunk Blaine to enter his room anymore - there had been enough tension floating around the Hudson-Hummel-Anderson house.
“Why’d you bring him here, dude?” Finn asked.
“He wanted to see his friends,” Blaine replied. “I didn’t think it would hurt.”
“He’s just gonna be reminded of all he’s missing. You know how important education and glee club were to him,” Finn snapped, turning a glare towards Blaine.
“He deserves to get out of the house, Finn. And where else am I gonna take him? No one else seems to find time to take him places. You’re never even home with him, so why don’t you just shove your smelly gym sock up your ass and shut your mouth,” Blaine growled, trying not to raise his voice and steal any attention away from Kurt.
Finn gritted his teeth and stood up suddenly. He jabbed a finger at Blaine’s chest, his glare meeting the other boys. “I know what you did to him, you bastard. Don’t pretend you love him.”
Finn proceeded to storm out of the room, leaving a bewildered Blaine behind. Blaine still had no idea what happened between him and Kurt that night after the party. As far as he had been concerned, nothing had gone down.
But now, that didn’t seem to be the case.
He would have to confront Kurt.
Next chapter