Glee fanfic: New Fashion (4)
Media: Fanfic
Title: New fashion
Part: 4 of 5
Word Count: 2487
Author: lola_mejor
Summary: Kurt and Blaine continue their relationship following Kurt's transfer back to McKinley high.
Characters: Kurt, Blaine, Burt Hummel, Mr Anderson
Rating: PG
Category: Angst/Romance
Author's Note: Back to our (my) favourite couple in this chapter... second-last part of a five-part series. In case you're randomly finding this part, here's part one, two, and three.
---
Kurt was ready to burst at the seams with questions, sympathy, outrage, love, support and everything else but he contained himself, standing calmly next to Blaine as they waited for their after-school coffees at Lima Bean cafe.
Blaine had texted in the morning, but only to say that his phone wasn't "secure", and that they would talk after-school. While the James Bond allure of that statement had appealed to Kurt's fantasies of Blaine as a young Sean Connery-esque British spy, it had only made him more worried throughout the day; and did nothing to dispel his feeling of being trapped - it added paralysis to his list of emotions.
So as he stood next to Blaine who, by all accounts, did not have any visible signs of distress from whatever had happened the night before, Kurt was dying to grab hold of his boyfriend and never let go. Instead he stood silently, grinding his teeth slightly with the tension, and reminded himself over and over that he was there to support Blaine. It was about Blaine.
When the coffees were finally ready, Kurt didn't offer any thanks before whisking them away past the suger/lid table and to a small round table in the corner of the cafe. Blaine took his time coming to the table, collecting sweetener, stirrers and lids before sitting down gracefully at the table in front of Kurt.
"Are you ok?" Blaine asked him, shaking the packet of sweetener and dispensing it into his latte.
"Am I ok?" Kurt hissed back in a semi-hushed voice. "I've been worried sick about you since last night - what happened? Did you talk to your Dad? What's going on with your phone?" Kurt stopped, closed his eyes and shook himself in an effort to calm down. "I mean," he tried again, more calmly this time, "What's going on, and what can I do to help make it better?" He reached his hand out to catch Blaine's as it came to rest after stirring the coffee.
Blaine interlocked his hand with Kurt's and smiled, his heart swelling at such an emphatic show of caring. "I love how wonderful you are," he said quietly, with a smile. "Thank you." He reached for his coffee with his other hand and took a sip, savouring the aromas and warmth before delving into his account of the night before. "You make it better just by being you, being here, being with me."
"So...?" Kurt raised an eyebrow expectantly. "I've been worried all sick all day - tell me what's going on."
Blaine took a deep breath, and began. "Well dinner was horrible... as I said already last night." He started at the beginning of the story. "My parents were not talking to each other at all and they kept each looking at me - as if they were going to say something but then just kept eating in silence... the cutlery scraping across their plates... glaring at each other... at me... " he faded out, and Kurt reached up to squeeze his arm in support. "So that was pleasant - not," he continued, "and the whole night was like that - with this heightened tension, without escape because it was family time-" he stopped again and laughed bitterly. "I kept imagining how wonderful dinner would be with you and your family - how there would be conversation, laughter, and actual home cooked food that tastes like someone tried. At my place - it was just so... cold. Like we were a depressed, tense Addams Family or something." Blaine stopped talking and just sat, thinking.
He had kept up a good show of strength throughout the day. If his classmates or the Warblers had noticed a change in his demeanour that day, none of them had said anything. He was almost glad he'd had a reason to tell Kurt not to message him; while he loved the fact that he had someone to care for and support him, he had needed to stay strong and Kurt's attentions to him would have made him want to curl up in his arms instead.
"So what happened later on? When you and I were talking?" Kurt asked after a while.
"It wasn't that bad I guess," Blaine looked down and fiddled with the cuffs on his blazer. "My father had heard me talking - even though I'm not supposed to be talking to friends after 10pm - so I got a lecture about that... had to surrender my laptop and cell..." He shrugged, glancing at Kurt. Upon reflection it really had been just a classic father-son disagreement about boundaries, up until that point.
"But that's not all... is it." Kurt said matter-of-factly. He squeezed Blaine's hand in encouragement. "Tell me Blaine... let me be here for you - like you've always been for me."
"Well," Blaine began, "I was texting you quickly before giving up the my cell for the night - I mean I thought my father couldn't see that I was texting cos he was busy taking my laptop... but he did." He stopped for a moment, and tears formed in his eyes. "He just freaked- he was like 'who are you texting so late at night?' 'what's so important?' … and then he looked at the history, photos, everything and asked 'why do you have all these photos of you and this guy - Kurt?'…"
Kurt took a sharp intake of breath, his throat suddenly dry and chest heavy with fear. "What did you say?" Kurt whispered almost too quietly to be heard.
"I- I..." Blaine faltered, "I just couldn't say anything - I'm sorry Kurt I wanted so much to just tell him and for him to be ok and for him to want to meet you and then be polite and charming and friendly when he does meet and... and... but... I'm just not sure he's ready - and I hate that."
Blaine took his hands back from Kurt and buried his face in his palms, taking in deep breaths. Kurt shuffled his chair around next to his boyfriend, placing a supportive hand on his knee, just as a deep, resonant voice filled the air between them.
"I'm ready."
Miles Anderson stood between the corner table and the rest of the cafe, suit immaculate, overcoat draped over the arm holding his briefcase. Even though he was at least 5 feet away, he loomed over the table, cutting out most of the artificial light behind him so that only the fading light penetrating through the glass windows to the side lit the are - in a cold blue.
Blaine's head shot up at the sound of his father's voice, and his body followed the upwards motion, recoiling backward, chair clattering against the floor as he stepped back, hitting the wall and sticking there like a bug in a spider's web. Kurt didn't know what to do. He wanted to stand right next to Blaine, take his hand, calm him down, face his father with him, side by side. But the look of abject fear on Blaine's face warned him off. Burt's words from the night before floated in an out of Kurt's mind, and he realised again their wisdom. This was something Blaine had to face. Kurt would be there, but part of the furniture - to be called upon only as required. Kurt hoped fervently that Blaine would let him provide that extra strength.
"Blaine..." Mr Anderson dropped his briefcase to the ground, letting the overcoat crumple over it. He stood frozen on the spot, wanting to reach out to his son but afraid of his reaction. His eyes moved to look at Kurt, who looked poised to leap to his feet in defence of Blaine at a moment's notice.
"You must be Kurt," Mr Anderson changed tack, took a step forward and offered his hand to Kurt. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He waited patiently while Kurt looked first towards Blaine, before extending his hand to shake Mr Anderson's. Mr Anderson smiled as warmly as he could as he shook Kurt's hand, and pulled a chair from behind him to sit down at the table.
"Blaine, please sit down." Mr Anderson's voice constricted as he realised just how paralysed his son was. He shook his head in disbelief at how it had all gone wrong. "Blaine, look - I'm sorry for how things have been. Please - sit down."
Kurt took this cue to stand quietly, pick up the knocked over chair and guide Blaine back into the chair. Once seated, he felt Blaine's hand find his on his knee and clasp it tightly. He clasped back.
"What are you doing here Dad?" Blaine finally spoke, his voice sounding haunted from the shock. He shook his head in disbelief. What's going on?"
"What's going on..." Mr Anderson began slowly, "is that I've let you down when all you've needed is for me to be your father; to be proud of you," he paused, "and I am so proud, Blaine."
Kurt gasped before he could stop himself, putting a hand up to his mouth, his eyes welling with anticipation at a possible hallmark moment that would clear the way for him and Blaine to be completely happy.
Mr Anderson continued. "I'm proud of your bravery, coming out at such a young age. I'm proud of you for putting up with and surviving your old school. I'm proud of you for all your hard work and good grades at Dalton Academy. I'm proud of your singing with the Warblers. I'm proud of you for who you are, just as you are, and I love you."
Blaine found a smile tugging at his lips, with each word his father said Blaine felt his ears filling with a roar as his heart beat faster, pumping blood through his system. He felt lifted with the sensation of acceptance and love.
"Most of all Blaine," Mr Anderson paused until his son was looking him directly in the eye across the table, "I'm proud to be your father, and I'm in your corner - ready to fight with you if you ever need anything. I'm just sorry I haven't been able to tell you or act like it before."
Kurt resisted the urge to squeal but couldn't hide the grin from his face. He looked to Blaine, squeezing his hand as a form of encouragement.
"What changed?" Blaine found his voice - raucus and raspy but audible. "Last night you and Mom could barely look at me, let alone talk to me. Then you were confiscating my phone and interrogating me about Kurt... and now here you are acting like you've swallowed a brochure on 'accepting gay teens' -" he shook his head. "I don't get it."
Mr Anderson nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before responding. "We have been trying to work up the courage to talk to you Blaine - but it's not about you and Kurt," he added hastily, seeing the look exchanged between the two boys. "I mean... if there is a you and, ah... anyway," his face was going red. "It's about your mother and I." he said finally after a couple of awkward seconds. "We, ah, we're going to be leading increasingly separate lives."
Silence seemed to fall over the cafe; a break in music and general hubbub falling at the exact moment Mr Anderson had spoken that last sentence. Blaine was sure the entire room was listening, and held his breath.
"The in's and out's aren't important," Mr Anderson put a hand up to hold back any questions, the room seemingly returning to a constant hum, "but we've been trying to find a way to tell you; and knowing that you've been going through so much in your own life recently it just never seemed the right time. The truth is, though," his hand fell to the table again, "and you must have noticed it, the strain has been getting too much, and it started impacting on you more."
"Huh." Blaine breathed, his eyes fixed on the table as he took the information in. He felt Kurt's hand entwined with his and stroked his thumb against Kurt's smooth skin, grateful to have the connection and support of someone with him. "Are you... going to move out?" he asked his father.
"No, at least not yet." Mr Anderson answered. "I'll be taking the guest house - hopefully you'll come hang out... watch the game," he looked hopefully at his son.
"Why?" Blaine asked, referring to his parents' separation, not the suggested sports bonding sessions.
"It's... complicated," Mr Anderson said after some hesitation. "I-" his voice seemed to falter, "I lost your mother's respect, and need to try to get it back." He spread his palms across the table. "It's my mess to fix, and I'm determined to fix it - for our family. The important thing," he continued, "is that I realise I was taking my own pain out on you and - and I'm ashamed to say it - I haven't been a father to you. Last night after we argued I realised it had gone too far; that it had to stop because I was losing you." He reached out a hand, which Blaine graciously took. "I'm so sorry, Blaine."
Blaine nodded, not saying anything. He held his father's hand for a moment before retrieving it and leaning back into his chair again. It occurred to him, for the first time, that his father was a person, flawed just like any other. That fact alone made Blaine feel closer his father, and he felt the tension and weight of most of his fears dissipate, flowing through his feet into the cool tiled floor below.
The three of them sat there for some time in silence. Kurt wondered - not for the first time during the conversation - whether he should leave them alone. But the tight hold Blaine still had on his hand reassured him that he was where he should be - supporting his man.
Mr Anderson sat patiently, watching his son and noticing his body language with Kurt. He recognised the important role Kurt was playing that day, and generally in his son's life. He realised and admired how much the two boys meant to each other and how valuable their connection was in what was so often a hostile world. Mr Anderson hoped fervently to never again contribute to its hostility.
Eventually, Blaine turned to Kurt, put a second hand over his and Kurt's clasped hands and looked into his boyfriend's eyes expectantly. He seemed breathless, petrified and excited all at once. With a silent nod and squeeze of the hand Kurt told him to go for it, a smile forming on his lips as he and Blaine both looked at Mr Anderson.
"Dad," Blaine began hesitantly, "I'd like you to meet Kurt... my boyfriend."
---
Link to Part 5.
Title: New fashion
Part: 4 of 5
Word Count: 2487
Author: lola_mejor
Summary: Kurt and Blaine continue their relationship following Kurt's transfer back to McKinley high.
Characters: Kurt, Blaine, Burt Hummel, Mr Anderson
Rating: PG
Category: Angst/Romance
Author's Note: Back to our (my) favourite couple in this chapter... second-last part of a five-part series. In case you're randomly finding this part, here's part one, two, and three.
---
Kurt was ready to burst at the seams with questions, sympathy, outrage, love, support and everything else but he contained himself, standing calmly next to Blaine as they waited for their after-school coffees at Lima Bean cafe.
Blaine had texted in the morning, but only to say that his phone wasn't "secure", and that they would talk after-school. While the James Bond allure of that statement had appealed to Kurt's fantasies of Blaine as a young Sean Connery-esque British spy, it had only made him more worried throughout the day; and did nothing to dispel his feeling of being trapped - it added paralysis to his list of emotions.
So as he stood next to Blaine who, by all accounts, did not have any visible signs of distress from whatever had happened the night before, Kurt was dying to grab hold of his boyfriend and never let go. Instead he stood silently, grinding his teeth slightly with the tension, and reminded himself over and over that he was there to support Blaine. It was about Blaine.
When the coffees were finally ready, Kurt didn't offer any thanks before whisking them away past the suger/lid table and to a small round table in the corner of the cafe. Blaine took his time coming to the table, collecting sweetener, stirrers and lids before sitting down gracefully at the table in front of Kurt.
"Are you ok?" Blaine asked him, shaking the packet of sweetener and dispensing it into his latte.
"Am I ok?" Kurt hissed back in a semi-hushed voice. "I've been worried sick about you since last night - what happened? Did you talk to your Dad? What's going on with your phone?" Kurt stopped, closed his eyes and shook himself in an effort to calm down. "I mean," he tried again, more calmly this time, "What's going on, and what can I do to help make it better?" He reached his hand out to catch Blaine's as it came to rest after stirring the coffee.
Blaine interlocked his hand with Kurt's and smiled, his heart swelling at such an emphatic show of caring. "I love how wonderful you are," he said quietly, with a smile. "Thank you." He reached for his coffee with his other hand and took a sip, savouring the aromas and warmth before delving into his account of the night before. "You make it better just by being you, being here, being with me."
"So...?" Kurt raised an eyebrow expectantly. "I've been worried all sick all day - tell me what's going on."
Blaine took a deep breath, and began. "Well dinner was horrible... as I said already last night." He started at the beginning of the story. "My parents were not talking to each other at all and they kept each looking at me - as if they were going to say something but then just kept eating in silence... the cutlery scraping across their plates... glaring at each other... at me... " he faded out, and Kurt reached up to squeeze his arm in support. "So that was pleasant - not," he continued, "and the whole night was like that - with this heightened tension, without escape because it was family time-" he stopped again and laughed bitterly. "I kept imagining how wonderful dinner would be with you and your family - how there would be conversation, laughter, and actual home cooked food that tastes like someone tried. At my place - it was just so... cold. Like we were a depressed, tense Addams Family or something." Blaine stopped talking and just sat, thinking.
He had kept up a good show of strength throughout the day. If his classmates or the Warblers had noticed a change in his demeanour that day, none of them had said anything. He was almost glad he'd had a reason to tell Kurt not to message him; while he loved the fact that he had someone to care for and support him, he had needed to stay strong and Kurt's attentions to him would have made him want to curl up in his arms instead.
"So what happened later on? When you and I were talking?" Kurt asked after a while.
"It wasn't that bad I guess," Blaine looked down and fiddled with the cuffs on his blazer. "My father had heard me talking - even though I'm not supposed to be talking to friends after 10pm - so I got a lecture about that... had to surrender my laptop and cell..." He shrugged, glancing at Kurt. Upon reflection it really had been just a classic father-son disagreement about boundaries, up until that point.
"But that's not all... is it." Kurt said matter-of-factly. He squeezed Blaine's hand in encouragement. "Tell me Blaine... let me be here for you - like you've always been for me."
"Well," Blaine began, "I was texting you quickly before giving up the my cell for the night - I mean I thought my father couldn't see that I was texting cos he was busy taking my laptop... but he did." He stopped for a moment, and tears formed in his eyes. "He just freaked- he was like 'who are you texting so late at night?' 'what's so important?' … and then he looked at the history, photos, everything and asked 'why do you have all these photos of you and this guy - Kurt?'…"
Kurt took a sharp intake of breath, his throat suddenly dry and chest heavy with fear. "What did you say?" Kurt whispered almost too quietly to be heard.
"I- I..." Blaine faltered, "I just couldn't say anything - I'm sorry Kurt I wanted so much to just tell him and for him to be ok and for him to want to meet you and then be polite and charming and friendly when he does meet and... and... but... I'm just not sure he's ready - and I hate that."
Blaine took his hands back from Kurt and buried his face in his palms, taking in deep breaths. Kurt shuffled his chair around next to his boyfriend, placing a supportive hand on his knee, just as a deep, resonant voice filled the air between them.
"I'm ready."
Miles Anderson stood between the corner table and the rest of the cafe, suit immaculate, overcoat draped over the arm holding his briefcase. Even though he was at least 5 feet away, he loomed over the table, cutting out most of the artificial light behind him so that only the fading light penetrating through the glass windows to the side lit the are - in a cold blue.
Blaine's head shot up at the sound of his father's voice, and his body followed the upwards motion, recoiling backward, chair clattering against the floor as he stepped back, hitting the wall and sticking there like a bug in a spider's web. Kurt didn't know what to do. He wanted to stand right next to Blaine, take his hand, calm him down, face his father with him, side by side. But the look of abject fear on Blaine's face warned him off. Burt's words from the night before floated in an out of Kurt's mind, and he realised again their wisdom. This was something Blaine had to face. Kurt would be there, but part of the furniture - to be called upon only as required. Kurt hoped fervently that Blaine would let him provide that extra strength.
"Blaine..." Mr Anderson dropped his briefcase to the ground, letting the overcoat crumple over it. He stood frozen on the spot, wanting to reach out to his son but afraid of his reaction. His eyes moved to look at Kurt, who looked poised to leap to his feet in defence of Blaine at a moment's notice.
"You must be Kurt," Mr Anderson changed tack, took a step forward and offered his hand to Kurt. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He waited patiently while Kurt looked first towards Blaine, before extending his hand to shake Mr Anderson's. Mr Anderson smiled as warmly as he could as he shook Kurt's hand, and pulled a chair from behind him to sit down at the table.
"Blaine, please sit down." Mr Anderson's voice constricted as he realised just how paralysed his son was. He shook his head in disbelief at how it had all gone wrong. "Blaine, look - I'm sorry for how things have been. Please - sit down."
Kurt took this cue to stand quietly, pick up the knocked over chair and guide Blaine back into the chair. Once seated, he felt Blaine's hand find his on his knee and clasp it tightly. He clasped back.
"What are you doing here Dad?" Blaine finally spoke, his voice sounding haunted from the shock. He shook his head in disbelief. What's going on?"
"What's going on..." Mr Anderson began slowly, "is that I've let you down when all you've needed is for me to be your father; to be proud of you," he paused, "and I am so proud, Blaine."
Kurt gasped before he could stop himself, putting a hand up to his mouth, his eyes welling with anticipation at a possible hallmark moment that would clear the way for him and Blaine to be completely happy.
Mr Anderson continued. "I'm proud of your bravery, coming out at such a young age. I'm proud of you for putting up with and surviving your old school. I'm proud of you for all your hard work and good grades at Dalton Academy. I'm proud of your singing with the Warblers. I'm proud of you for who you are, just as you are, and I love you."
Blaine found a smile tugging at his lips, with each word his father said Blaine felt his ears filling with a roar as his heart beat faster, pumping blood through his system. He felt lifted with the sensation of acceptance and love.
"Most of all Blaine," Mr Anderson paused until his son was looking him directly in the eye across the table, "I'm proud to be your father, and I'm in your corner - ready to fight with you if you ever need anything. I'm just sorry I haven't been able to tell you or act like it before."
Kurt resisted the urge to squeal but couldn't hide the grin from his face. He looked to Blaine, squeezing his hand as a form of encouragement.
"What changed?" Blaine found his voice - raucus and raspy but audible. "Last night you and Mom could barely look at me, let alone talk to me. Then you were confiscating my phone and interrogating me about Kurt... and now here you are acting like you've swallowed a brochure on 'accepting gay teens' -" he shook his head. "I don't get it."
Mr Anderson nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before responding. "We have been trying to work up the courage to talk to you Blaine - but it's not about you and Kurt," he added hastily, seeing the look exchanged between the two boys. "I mean... if there is a you and, ah... anyway," his face was going red. "It's about your mother and I." he said finally after a couple of awkward seconds. "We, ah, we're going to be leading increasingly separate lives."
Silence seemed to fall over the cafe; a break in music and general hubbub falling at the exact moment Mr Anderson had spoken that last sentence. Blaine was sure the entire room was listening, and held his breath.
"The in's and out's aren't important," Mr Anderson put a hand up to hold back any questions, the room seemingly returning to a constant hum, "but we've been trying to find a way to tell you; and knowing that you've been going through so much in your own life recently it just never seemed the right time. The truth is, though," his hand fell to the table again, "and you must have noticed it, the strain has been getting too much, and it started impacting on you more."
"Huh." Blaine breathed, his eyes fixed on the table as he took the information in. He felt Kurt's hand entwined with his and stroked his thumb against Kurt's smooth skin, grateful to have the connection and support of someone with him. "Are you... going to move out?" he asked his father.
"No, at least not yet." Mr Anderson answered. "I'll be taking the guest house - hopefully you'll come hang out... watch the game," he looked hopefully at his son.
"Why?" Blaine asked, referring to his parents' separation, not the suggested sports bonding sessions.
"It's... complicated," Mr Anderson said after some hesitation. "I-" his voice seemed to falter, "I lost your mother's respect, and need to try to get it back." He spread his palms across the table. "It's my mess to fix, and I'm determined to fix it - for our family. The important thing," he continued, "is that I realise I was taking my own pain out on you and - and I'm ashamed to say it - I haven't been a father to you. Last night after we argued I realised it had gone too far; that it had to stop because I was losing you." He reached out a hand, which Blaine graciously took. "I'm so sorry, Blaine."
Blaine nodded, not saying anything. He held his father's hand for a moment before retrieving it and leaning back into his chair again. It occurred to him, for the first time, that his father was a person, flawed just like any other. That fact alone made Blaine feel closer his father, and he felt the tension and weight of most of his fears dissipate, flowing through his feet into the cool tiled floor below.
The three of them sat there for some time in silence. Kurt wondered - not for the first time during the conversation - whether he should leave them alone. But the tight hold Blaine still had on his hand reassured him that he was where he should be - supporting his man.
Mr Anderson sat patiently, watching his son and noticing his body language with Kurt. He recognised the important role Kurt was playing that day, and generally in his son's life. He realised and admired how much the two boys meant to each other and how valuable their connection was in what was so often a hostile world. Mr Anderson hoped fervently to never again contribute to its hostility.
Eventually, Blaine turned to Kurt, put a second hand over his and Kurt's clasped hands and looked into his boyfriend's eyes expectantly. He seemed breathless, petrified and excited all at once. With a silent nod and squeeze of the hand Kurt told him to go for it, a smile forming on his lips as he and Blaine both looked at Mr Anderson.
"Dad," Blaine began hesitantly, "I'd like you to meet Kurt... my boyfriend."
---
Link to Part 5.