Here I Am, Honey (8/12 + Epilogue) - Klaine Dirty Dancing AU
Title: Here I Am, Honey (8/12 + Epilogue)
Rating: I'm going to leave this as R for the duration, unless I need to uptick to NC-17
Pairings: Klaine, background Finchel (with very little focus)
Word Count: 5,361 this chapter / 40,879 overall (so far)
Spoilers: I'll be making nods to canon throughout, so I'll say "all aired" just to be safe, but this is very AU
Warnings: As with the movie, this story does include significant allusions to abortion. Also mild angst and slow burn/buildup.
Previous Chapters: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven
Summary: When Blaine Anderson visits Kellerman's Mountain Home with his family in the summer of 1963, he isn't expecting anything more than days in the sun and games of croquet, but when he and his cousin Rachel meet the staff dance instructors, his plans get thrown for a loop. Blaine's family vacation might just end up being the time of his life. A Klaine Dirty Dancing AU.
Author's Notes: Title from Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me." Many thanks to my wonderful beta shandyall! If you're so inclined, feel free to come say hi on Tumblr over here. Additional author's note after the cut.
After Blaine woke up the next morning, he spent a long time staring at the ceiling with his head pillowed on his arms. He thought that maybe he understood now.
He and Kurt had kissed for what felt like hours the night before. They’d kissed, long and unhurried, until Blaine felt like his lips were buzzing, like they were swollen and slippery, and when he ran his tongue over them, they didn’t taste completely like his own. There’d been time to feel instead of grab, and Blaine had allowed himself to touch Kurt’s neck and jawline, his shoulders and back and the sides of his ribcage. He liked the way Kurt’s hands felt on him too - soft on his face, big when they splayed in the space between his shoulder blades, strong when they held on tight.
They’d kissed for so long that Blaine realized that couldn’t ignore the sharp kink in his neck or the uncomfortable way the narrow bench was cutting into the backs of his thighs for even another second longer, and then he’d almost ruined everything when he’d drawn away and said, “I can’t do this anymore.” When Kurt’s stricken face had come into focus, he’d tripped over every word spilling out of his mouth, unable to make himself clear fast enough.
With a roll of his eyes, Kurt had produced a blanket from - somewhere - and pushed Blaine down onto it with a laugh. Which was all well and very, very good until Kurt climbed on top of him. Blaine had been doing his best to ignore his arousal, but it was impossible with Kurt’s solid weight above him, holding him fast against the cool floorboards under the blanket. He was aching within minutes, and before long, they were doing on the ground what they’d done against the wall in the dance studio. Kurt had hooked a hand under Blaine’s knee to angle his leg up, then he rocked down hard - and it was all over very quickly after that.
Afterward, things were different. Kurt had rolled off of him but not away, dislodging Blaine’s hand from the back of his neck, where he’d apparently jammed half of it down under the collar of Kurt’s t-shirt. Staying close at Blaine’s side, Kurt had stretched out on his back, and even found Blaine’s fingers to interlace a few with his own. For a few moments, neither spoke, and Blaine slowly came back to himself, listening to the soft sounds of the lake outside while their breathing slowed and quieted.
He realized once again that he felt horribly sticky and unpleasant - it had never occurred to him how much of a mess this sort of thing would be, and he probably should have taken it into consideration about ten minutes earlier. In retrospect, the night before, he’d been grateful for the dark wash of his jeans and the proximity of the bathroom downstairs, not to mention the fact that he’d been too overwhelmed to give his discomfort the attention it might have otherwise received. Now, he was only too aware that he was lying on the floor of what was essentially a shed, and he was going to have to get back to his cabin one way or another.
Then, at the edge of his vision, Blaine saw Kurt flop his head to the side to face him. Blaine did the same and everything dissipated a little as he looked shyly into Kurt’s eyes. “Hi,” Kurt whispered, for the second time that night.
“Hi,” Blaine responded. And then, because he had to say something else, he blurted out what was quite literally the only other thought in his head: “That feels really good.”
“You feel really good,” Kurt said quickly, and the flush, which had been fading from his skin, heightened a little. Blaine felt a grin spread across his face, and they stayed there for long seconds, staring. Blaine felt like his heart was warm deep inside of him, softly expanding like bread dough until it filled the entire cavity of his chest. Kurt squirmed and broke the mood first, clearing his throat. “But what I was going to say is that I think we can get away with sneaking into the main house through the south door at this time of night. There are bathrooms right inside. And it’ll just take a minute to get there.”
Blaine sighed, torn between the urge to tease Kurt for his practicality and curse the fact that it was probably the best option. So he merely said, “Okay,” and Kurt leaned over to kiss his forehead with a smack before sitting up.
As Kurt had suspected, the coast was clear. The entertainment for the evening - a comedy act in the auditorium - had let out long ago, and there didn’t appear to be anyone around. Which was probably lucky, Blaine thought, because he and Kurt would make awful secret agents. They stole embarrassed glances at each other and laughed, veering in toward one another before remembering that they needed to veer away. When they’d taken turns doing all they could to make themselves presentable, Kurt pulled Blaine into the bathroom and kissed him again, again, again, before they’d said good night and headed their separate ways - but not without plans to meet up again the following evening.
So, Blaine thought that maybe he was finally starting to understand whatever it was that everyone he’d gone to school with had been figuring out one by one (or two by two) for years. He felt like he’d gained admittance to a secret club, or rather, like he’d sneaked in through the side door when no one was looking. It was all so new to him, raw and delicate, like shoots creeping out of the ground when the frost was gone. He wanted to laugh, his nerves kept him on the verge of biting his fingernails to the quick, and he longed. He’d been longing to see Kurt again since the moment they’d said good-bye the night before.
Although he could have stayed in bed for hours, Blaine was well aware that it would only make the day go by more slowly, when all he wanted was to blink his eyes and find that the clock was already reading seven-thirty in the evening, when he had agreed to meet Kurt again. Groaning, Blaine pulled himself up and, when he opened his door, he was surprised to find Rachel passing by. She looked haggard, her eyes were puffy and red and underscored with dark lines. Blaine cringed, suddenly remembering that just because he was on cloud nine, it didn’t mean that everyone else was sharing it with him. “Good morning,” he said.
“…morning,” Rachel responded flatly, making it perfectly clear that she was leaving out the good on purpose.
“Are you feeling any better?” Blaine asked cautiously. Rachel had resisted all of his attempts at conversation the day before. She’d disappeared for a short time just before dinner, and she was even more miserable when she returned, so Blaine strongly suspected that Finn hadn’t changed his mind after he’d left Quinn’s cabin.
“What do you think?” Rachel muttered. She sounded stuffed up.
“I - well, I thought -” Blaine stammered. “I was hoping that maybe a good night’s sleep would help. Maybe some breakfast?”
“I’m not going to breakfast.”
“Rachel.”
“I’m not!” she insisted. “I already told Daddy I don’t feel well. It’s my hay fever.”
Blaine looked at her, feeling helpless. “Isn’t there something I can do? Do you want to talk about it? Please?”
Rachel shook her head. “I really don’t want to, and besides, there’s not much to say. Would it make you feel better if I promise to come join you for lunch?”
“Yes,” Blaine said, and it did. Not much, but a little.
“Then I promise to come join you for lunch. In the meantime, I’m going to lie back down.”
“Okay.” He watched Rachel shuffle back to her bedroom and close the door, his brow furrowed with concern.
- / / -
Rachel kept her word, emerging from her room to walk to the main house just before noon. She assured them all that she felt much better, but her wan expression and flat voice told a different story. Although Hiram and Shelby exchanged a look of concern, they allowed her lies to pass without further comment.
They were almost done with their meal - which was eaten mainly in silence interspersed with bursts of stilted conversation - when Jacob Ben Israel bustled up to their table, holding a clipboard. “Hello, everyone,” he said, the very sound of his voice making Blaine cringe a little. “Are you all enjoying your lunch? Good, good. Rachel, I see that you signed up to sing in the talent show. I wanted to make sure that you can come to the auditorium tomorrow morning at ten o’clock sharp for the first rehearsal.”
Rachel nodded unenthusiastically. “Of course, that sounds great. I’ll be there.”
“Good! My uncle put me in charge of the show this year, and I can’t wait to get started.”
“Wonderful,” Rachel said with a forced smile.
Jacob made a note on his clipboard and then looked up at Blaine, pointing at him with his pencil. “You’ll be there, too, right Blaine? I’ll need you for props.”
Blaine refrained from rolling his eyes, choosing instead to echo Rachel’s feigned politeness. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Great! See you both tomorrow!” With a last parting glance at Rachel, he was gone as quickly as he’d appeared.
Rachel scowled at his back. “Blaine, I’ll talk to him,” she said, sounding more lively than she had all day. “If I ask him to let you sing, he’ll let you.”
But Blaine shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Rach. I don’t really mind.” He didn’t - he would have enjoyed taking part in the show, but he was so preoccupied with Kurt that he could barely find it in himself to stay upset.
“But Blaine, you’re an excellent vocalist, and he shouldn’t deny you the right to perform just because -”
“Rachel!” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s all right. Really. As long as you get to sing, I’m happy. There’s no need to go out of your way.”
“Well… okay,” she said slowly. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
They all turned back to their food, but had only taken another few bites when Rachel dropped her fork onto her plate and pushed her chair back with a loud scrape. “I’ll be right back,” she announced, and scurried away without waiting for a response. Blaine exchanged bewildered looks and shrugs with both Hiram and Shelby. He looked surreptitiously around the dining room, half expecting to see Finn somewhere, even though the staff never ate with the guests.
What he actually noticed was much worse. Blaine caught sight of Rachel’s yellow sundress on the opposite side of the dining hall a minute or two later, and an unpleasant feeling set up residence in his stomach when he saw that she was talking to Noah. He recognized the change in her immediately - the way she was looking up coquettishly from under her eyelashes, wearing a smile that looked like it was reserved for him only. When she reached out to briefly touch his arm, Blaine narrowed his eyes. He wanted to launch himself out of his chair and across the room to physically make a barrier between them. Luckily, Rachel chose that moment to leave Noah with a little wave, but Blaine didn’t like the way that Noah’s eyes followed her as she made her way back to the table.
There was nothing that he could say to her when she sat back down, not with her parents present, and Rachel steadfastly refused to meet his eye. Frustrated, he dropped his fork back to the table and covered what was left of his lunch with his napkin.
“Done with lunch, Blaine?” Hiram asked, folding his own napkin aside. “Ready to head over to the putting green?” In a desperate attempt to fill his afternoon, Blaine had agreed when one of Hiram’s friends insisted over breakfast that they teach Blaine how to swing a golf club. He also hoped that it might serve as a sort of peace offering toward his uncle, who still wasn’t treating Blaine quite the same way that he had before Quinn’s emergency.
Rachel didn’t look up as they moved to stand, concentrating instead on pushing her leftover vegetables around her plate. He’d have to figure out a way to talk to her later, although he wasn’t quite sure what he could say without betraying Quinn’s trust. There had to be something.
“Sure,” he said, turning back to Hiram. “Let’s go.”
- / / -
Rachel continued to evade Blaine for the remainder of the afternoon. After learning what had to be all the finer points of putting a golf ball, Blaine had returned to the cabin to find a note from Shelby: Rachel and I are rehearsing her songs, then headed to the pool. Come join us if you want! Blaine sighed. The pool, usually busy even on sunny days, wouldn’t be the ideal place to try to confront Rachel, and he knew that she would stubbornly refuse to leave and talk with him elsewhere. There were still a couple of hours left before dinner, so Blaine headed out to take a run, hoping to pass a bit more time. It was far from his best - he felt jagged and edgy, and he wasn’t able to find a good rhythm, his thoughts ping-ponging between Kurt and Rachel, bouncing from good to bad practically with each footstep.
The afternoon finally finished its agonizing crawl after Blaine showered and changed and made another unsuccessful attempt to read the mystery novel he’d borrowed from the lodge. At dinner, Blaine watched Rachel closely, and he was disappointed to see her exchange several significant glances with Noah throughout the service, even though he wasn’t waiting on their table.
After the meal, Hiram and Shelby left to have a drink in the hotel bar with a few of their newfound friends, which left Blaine and Rachel to walk back to their cabin alone. “Rachel, what are you doing?” he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone else.
Rachel stuck her nose in the air. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is something going on with you and Noah?” Blaine asked. “Because he… is not a very nice guy.”
“You don’t know him,” Rachel said.
“Neither do you!” Blaine retorted.
“So that means that either one of us could be right,” Rachel pointed out, continuing to look straight ahead, walking with her spine straight and her head high.
Blaine sighed, remembering Quinn’s earnest face and her plea to keep everything a secret from Rachel. “I don’t like him,” he finally said, and he knew that the words were weak and ineffectual.
“Oh, Blaine, don’t be silly. You know that I think it’s sweet when you feel like you have to protect me, but I’m eighteen years old now. I can take care of myself. Give him a chance.”
Blaine was left at a loss. There was no way he could tell the truth, but he would just make Rachel more upset if he continued to press the issue without any reason for making it a big deal. “Just be careful around him, okay?” he asked pleadingly.
“I always am,” Rachel said, the return of her steely confidence far from reassuring.
- / / -
A chilly silence had reigned between Blaine and Rachel when they made it back to the cabin. Perhaps for that reason, Rachel didn’t question Blaine when he made the excuse that he needed some fresh air. He ambled off, ignoring every urge to quicken his steps. Kurt had asked Blaine to meet him at a trailhead that Blaine wasn’t able to find on the hotel’s complimentary hiking maps. It wasn’t too far from the staff area, so Blaine headed in that direction, already trying to decide what alibi he could use to explain what had kept him away from the cabin for so long.
As worried as Blaine was about Rachel, she was all but gone from his mind when he spotted Kurt leaning against a tree and waiting for him. Blaine was reminded suddenly of the day that he’d stood with Kurt to watch Rachel’s first rehearsal, when he hadn’t even been sure that Kurt would want to talk to him at all. It seemed now like it had happened a million years ago or to someone else entirely, especially when he saw the way Kurt’s face changed when he noticed him - Kurt’s eyes lit up as a secretive smile widened his mouth.
“Hi,” Blaine greeted Kurt as soon as he was near enough. He stuck his hands in his pockets, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and touching if he didn’t. Fighting back the urge, he said playfully, “I never pictured you as a hiker.”
“Oh, I’m not,” Kurt assured him. “We’re not going that far. There’s a good spot to watch the sunset just up this way. Come on.”
Blaine followed Kurt closely along a dirt path, which climbed into the forest for a little more than a quarter mile. They emerged from the woods into a small clearing, which contained, to Blaine’s surprise, a dilapidated gazebo and a weathered wooden bench. Beyond them, the landscape opened up to a wide view of the mountains, cut into swaths of light and shadow by the glow of the late-day sun and dipping down to the lake. “Wow,” Blaine said, stepping past Kurt to get closer to the edge of the overlook. “Why is this here?”
“It’s part of the original resort,” Kurt answered. “Did you know that this used to be all there was? Just the staff area, I mean?”
Blaine turned to find that Kurt was now sitting primly on the bench. “No,” he replied, turning and walking back to join him.
“The hotel has been in business for over a hundred years,” Kurt explained. “But the main house and all the guest accommodations that are here now are much newer than that. It used to be just our part - some of the staff cabins were used for guests and they had meals in the bigger one.”
“Really? Why wasn’t it closer down by the lake?” Blaine sat, scooting in beside Kurt on the bench and hoping that he had permission to do that now.
“I think they used to keep animals - horses, maybe? Cattle? Anyway, they were pastured where all the main buildings are now. Or at least that’s what one of the guys told me once. I’m not sure if it’s true or not. Max obviously isn’t very interested in maintaining any of it.”
Blaine looked over at the gazebo, noting that part of the roof had actually caved in. He thought about the torn screens and crooked doors he’d seen at the other rundown staff buildings and said, “Obviously not.”
“We still come up here sometimes. It’s a good place to get a little privacy,” Kurt finished.
“Oh,” Blaine said. “So, what if someone else shows up?” He shifted back a little bit on the bench, putting an inch or two of space between them.
“Finn and I let it slip that one of us would probably be up here tonight -”
“Wait,” Blaine cut him off, an icy lick of fear zooming up his spine. “Finn knows we’re up here?”
Kurt shook his head. “Finn knows that I’m up here. That’s it. So hopefully everyone else will steer clear. We all try to look out for each other. But still, we shouldn’t - um, get carried away.”
Blaine couldn’t deny that he felt a tiny twinge of disappointment at that, but it was overshadowed by something else, something warm and glowing. He looked down at his hands in his lap, a smile growing on his face as another one of his worries tumbled away. Kurt did want to spend time with him. Just spend time. He glanced up curiously when Kurt’s hand came into view, picking up one of Blaine’s and twining their fingers together. “Okay?” Kurt asked.
“Okay,” Blaine said. Kurt wedged their joined hands into the small space between their legs, so that the back of Blaine’s was pressed up against Kurt’s thigh, and Kurt’s was right next to his. Blaine took a deep breath that came out a little shuddery and leaned back against the bench. They sat in a companionable silence while the sun dragged itself lower in the sky.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Kurt asked a short time later, the question sounding stiff and rehearsed.
Blaine turned back toward him, unable to help but admire the strong line of Kurt’s profile. “What’s that?”
“The other night,” Kurt said, “you mentioned you were afraid of moving away. Where are you going? Not back to Ohio?”
It wasn’t exactly the question that Blaine had been expecting, and it made something heavy coalesce in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen after Kellerman’s. “Only to pack up my things. I’m starting college in the fall at NYU.”
“New York?” Kurt asked, his voice suddenly wistful. “I always wanted to go to New York.”
Blaine’s heart leapt a little, and he tamped it quickly back down. He and Kurt couldn’t have what other people had, not here, not there, and not anywhere else either. Being two people in the same city of millions wouldn’t make any difference as far as that was concerned. It would be better in the long run to just learn to enjoy what he had right in this moment, and, for now, push the painful thoughts away. “Why didn’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s a long story,” Kurt hedged.
Blaine smiled at him. “The sun’s not even behind the mountains yet. We’ve got time.” He gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze.
There was a moment of silence. “Have you ever heard of NYADA?” Kurt finally asked.
Blaine’s brow creased and he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts,” Kurt explained. “It’s a school for performing arts. For theater.”
“You want to be on stage? Like on Broadway? Kurt, you’d be so good at that!” Blaine exclaimed. “Your voice is amazing, and you can dance…” His voice trailed away when he noticed Kurt shaking his head.
“There aren’t a lot of parts written for men with my particular vocal range,” Kurt pointed out. “But yes, I’ve always dreamed of being on a Broadway stage, even if it’s just in the chorus.”
“But NYADA… you didn’t go?”
Kurt sighed. “They gave me an audition, but I canceled it.”
“Kurt, why?” Blaine asked softly.
Even though Blaine was watching him, Kurt continued to look out at the panorama in front of them. “It’s complicated. My dad owns a garage back home. Carole - that’s Finn’s mom - is a nurse. We were comfortable, but we were never wealthy.” Kurt shifted a little on the bench, and Blaine felt his muscles tense and contract against his hand. “Finn and I both had big plans. He was the starting quarterback on our high school football team. He wanted to keep playing, but he really just wanted to go to college. He didn’t have the grades, so he knew that he would need a scholarship to get into a good school. And… he didn’t get one. He was devastated.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Blaine said into the pause that followed, waiting for Kurt to go on.
Kurt seemed to be considering something, and then he added, “It’s why he wasn’t very nice to you when we first met.”
Blaine blinked. “He didn’t like me because he didn’t get a football scholarship?”
“He tends to be very resentful of anyone who he thinks is getting opportunities that he hasn’t gotten just because they’re able to pay for them,” Kurt clarified. “He was jealous.”
“But - Rachel’s going to Juilliard! He wasn’t resentful about that?”
Kurt gave him a side-eyed glance. “He thought Rachel was cute.”
“I see,” Blaine said, speaking much more lightly. “But not me.”
“No, not you.”
His heart thudded in his chest as he blurted out, “You did, though. Um… didn’t you?”
Blaine felt the pressure around his fingers tighten, and saw that Kurt was clearly fighting a smile. “Be that as it may, Finn didn’t, and that’s why he was nicer to Rachel than he was to you.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you turned down your audition,” Blaine said gently.
The mirth slid instantly from Kurt’s face. “NYADA is very exclusive. They only accept around twenty students a year, and only two of those get scholarships,” he said. “It’s also very expensive. There wouldn’t have been enough money to send both Finn and me to college as it was, and then my dad had a heart attack, so there were medical bills… There just wasn’t any way.”
“But Kurt… what if you had gotten a scholarship? Now you’ll never know.”
Kurt’s face was bleak. “And what if I hadn’t? What if they’d given me a spot but I had to turn it down? It would have killed me, and what’s worse, it would have killed my father. I couldn’t do that to him. He would have stopped taking his medicine if it would have meant more money for me to go to school. He would have offered, at least, and I couldn’t have him do that. I refuse to bankrupt him or put his health at risk.”
Blaine caught the gleam of wetness in Kurt’s eyes, illuminated by the blaze of the late-day sun, and he felt his own throat start to constrict. He held Kurt’s hand tighter and pressed it hard against the side of his leg. Kurt returned the pressure and they were locked so tightly together that Blaine could feel the long bones of their fingers shift against each other. “Maybe you can still go some day,” he offered. “I think you should. Don’t give up hope - there have to be other avenues.”
“Maybe,” Kurt said in a voice that meant I’m not so sure. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. “So, what’s your plan? What are you going to study?” he asked, his tone full of forced cheer.
Blaine allowed his grip around Kurt’s hand to ease a little and accepted the change of topic. “I’m not sure exactly which major I’m going to pick yet, but something that will help me out with law school. History maybe? Or English composition?”
“You want to be a lawyer?” Kurt sounded surprised.
“Yeah,” Blaine said, looking back down at his knees. “That’s kind of a long story too.”
“The sun isn’t completely gone yet,” Kurt commented, one side of his mouth turning up in an encouraging smile.
Blaine returned it fleetingly. “My dad wanted to be a lawyer,” he said, “It was his dream growing up, but he left college to fight in the war. By the time that was over, he knew that he’d have to support Mom - and me - one way or another, especially since my grandparents cut him off, so he found a job instead of going back to school.”
“They cut him off? Just because he married your mother?”
“My grandparents are Jewish, and they’re very traditional,” Blaine said. “They didn’t approve of him marrying someone who wasn’t.”
“Still!” Kurt exclaimed, almost sounding like he was affronted on Blaine’s father’s behalf. “That’s a pretty extreme reaction.”
Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know them at all. I’ve actually only met them twice - once at Rachel’s house, which was a complete accident, and once at my parents’ funeral. They seemed pretty… severe. I guess my dad never really got along with them. They had a huge falling out when he told them about my mom and me. My dad was so mad that he changed his name from Yosef Berry to Joe Anderson, and as far as I know, he never spoke to them again.”
Kurt’s eyes were round. “Wow.”
“Yeah. So, anyway, he had to get a job, and he ended up doing door-to-door sales for the Fuller Brush Company.”
“Your dad was a Fuller Brush Man?” Kurt asked, amused.
“Yup,” Blaine confirmed, “and a good one, too. It’s not that different from being a lawyer, if you think about it.”
Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. “Selling cleaning supplies door-to-door isn’t that much different from being a lawyer?”
“In both cases, your success depends upon making a persuasive argument,” Blaine said, parroting the words he’d heard his father say so many times. “He didn’t like it very much, though.”
“So you’re… living out his dream?”
Blaine shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m part of the reason he wasn’t able to follow through with it.”
“But - is it something that you want to do?”
Blaine was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded. “My parents always wanted me to live the American dream - you know, be anything that I wanted to be, do everything that they couldn’t, that sort of thing. What my dad really meant was ‘Blaine, be a lawyer, because I didn’t get to.’ But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like something I really wanted to do. It’s probably not going to be like he expected. I want to use my career to help people. I’m not sure how it’s going to work yet, but I have to get through school first, so I’ll figure it out.”
He turned to find Kurt smiling at him softly, the last flush of the sunset warming his skin and making him squint. “That sounds perfect.”
“Thank you,” Blaine said, and he wanted to kiss Kurt so badly that it was as physical as a hunger pang.
Kurt broke eye contact to glance over his shoulder into the woods. He faced Blaine again and murmured, “Oh, all right, then,” before leaning forward. Blaine eagerly met him halfway to exchange a handful of lush, lingering kisses that, even for all their sweetness, made his toes curl inside his shoes. Kurt punctuated them with a flick of his tongue against Blaine’s lips, and then he backed off, pulling a small groan out of Blaine’s mouth as he went. “No getting carried away,” Kurt whispered.
“If you say so,” Blaine said, trying and failing to keep the petulant tone out of his voice.
Kurt’s lips twisted up into a grin. “We should get going soon, anyway. The sun really is almost down now, and it’s already going to be dark going back through the woods. You’ll have to hold my hand,” he added flirtatiously.
Blaine’s stomach fizzed. “If you say so,” he repeated.
They stood from the bench and, even though it was more shadowy than it was dark, Blaine kept close beside Kurt as they wended their way back along the trail, shifting to walk slightly behind him when it was too narrow, but always in contact until they got too close to the trailhead, and Kurt drew to a stop. “You go first,” he said. “There probably isn’t anyone there, but just in case, we shouldn’t come out together.”
Blaine nodded as the reality of their situation burst the rosy sunset bubble that he’d painted around it for the evening. “Okay. I’ll - see you later?” he asked, feeling a gnawing sense of insecurity creeping up on him again.
“You will,” Kurt said definitively. “I’ll think of something.” He gave Blaine’s hand one last squeeze and then withdrew his own.
“Good,” Blaine whispered. “Have a good night, Kurt.”
“You too,” Kurt replied, his voice low and tender. Blaine wished that he could give him one last good night kiss, but they were too close to the rest of the world now - anyone could come crashing along without more than a few seconds’ notice. Instead, he gave a pained smile and turned to leave.
Chapter Notes:
Rating: I'm going to leave this as R for the duration, unless I need to uptick to NC-17
Pairings: Klaine, background Finchel (with very little focus)
Word Count: 5,361 this chapter / 40,879 overall (so far)
Spoilers: I'll be making nods to canon throughout, so I'll say "all aired" just to be safe, but this is very AU
Warnings: As with the movie, this story does include significant allusions to abortion. Also mild angst and slow burn/buildup.
Previous Chapters: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven
Summary: When Blaine Anderson visits Kellerman's Mountain Home with his family in the summer of 1963, he isn't expecting anything more than days in the sun and games of croquet, but when he and his cousin Rachel meet the staff dance instructors, his plans get thrown for a loop. Blaine's family vacation might just end up being the time of his life. A Klaine Dirty Dancing AU.
Author's Notes: Title from Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me." Many thanks to my wonderful beta shandyall! If you're so inclined, feel free to come say hi on Tumblr over here. Additional author's note after the cut.
- I'm aware that Berry isn't a Jewish surname. For that matter, neither is Corcoran, but I've decided to use canon names. For the purposes of this fic, Rachel's family is Jewish, including Shelby.
After Blaine woke up the next morning, he spent a long time staring at the ceiling with his head pillowed on his arms. He thought that maybe he understood now.
He and Kurt had kissed for what felt like hours the night before. They’d kissed, long and unhurried, until Blaine felt like his lips were buzzing, like they were swollen and slippery, and when he ran his tongue over them, they didn’t taste completely like his own. There’d been time to feel instead of grab, and Blaine had allowed himself to touch Kurt’s neck and jawline, his shoulders and back and the sides of his ribcage. He liked the way Kurt’s hands felt on him too - soft on his face, big when they splayed in the space between his shoulder blades, strong when they held on tight.
They’d kissed for so long that Blaine realized that couldn’t ignore the sharp kink in his neck or the uncomfortable way the narrow bench was cutting into the backs of his thighs for even another second longer, and then he’d almost ruined everything when he’d drawn away and said, “I can’t do this anymore.” When Kurt’s stricken face had come into focus, he’d tripped over every word spilling out of his mouth, unable to make himself clear fast enough.
With a roll of his eyes, Kurt had produced a blanket from - somewhere - and pushed Blaine down onto it with a laugh. Which was all well and very, very good until Kurt climbed on top of him. Blaine had been doing his best to ignore his arousal, but it was impossible with Kurt’s solid weight above him, holding him fast against the cool floorboards under the blanket. He was aching within minutes, and before long, they were doing on the ground what they’d done against the wall in the dance studio. Kurt had hooked a hand under Blaine’s knee to angle his leg up, then he rocked down hard - and it was all over very quickly after that.
Afterward, things were different. Kurt had rolled off of him but not away, dislodging Blaine’s hand from the back of his neck, where he’d apparently jammed half of it down under the collar of Kurt’s t-shirt. Staying close at Blaine’s side, Kurt had stretched out on his back, and even found Blaine’s fingers to interlace a few with his own. For a few moments, neither spoke, and Blaine slowly came back to himself, listening to the soft sounds of the lake outside while their breathing slowed and quieted.
He realized once again that he felt horribly sticky and unpleasant - it had never occurred to him how much of a mess this sort of thing would be, and he probably should have taken it into consideration about ten minutes earlier. In retrospect, the night before, he’d been grateful for the dark wash of his jeans and the proximity of the bathroom downstairs, not to mention the fact that he’d been too overwhelmed to give his discomfort the attention it might have otherwise received. Now, he was only too aware that he was lying on the floor of what was essentially a shed, and he was going to have to get back to his cabin one way or another.
Then, at the edge of his vision, Blaine saw Kurt flop his head to the side to face him. Blaine did the same and everything dissipated a little as he looked shyly into Kurt’s eyes. “Hi,” Kurt whispered, for the second time that night.
“Hi,” Blaine responded. And then, because he had to say something else, he blurted out what was quite literally the only other thought in his head: “That feels really good.”
“You feel really good,” Kurt said quickly, and the flush, which had been fading from his skin, heightened a little. Blaine felt a grin spread across his face, and they stayed there for long seconds, staring. Blaine felt like his heart was warm deep inside of him, softly expanding like bread dough until it filled the entire cavity of his chest. Kurt squirmed and broke the mood first, clearing his throat. “But what I was going to say is that I think we can get away with sneaking into the main house through the south door at this time of night. There are bathrooms right inside. And it’ll just take a minute to get there.”
Blaine sighed, torn between the urge to tease Kurt for his practicality and curse the fact that it was probably the best option. So he merely said, “Okay,” and Kurt leaned over to kiss his forehead with a smack before sitting up.
As Kurt had suspected, the coast was clear. The entertainment for the evening - a comedy act in the auditorium - had let out long ago, and there didn’t appear to be anyone around. Which was probably lucky, Blaine thought, because he and Kurt would make awful secret agents. They stole embarrassed glances at each other and laughed, veering in toward one another before remembering that they needed to veer away. When they’d taken turns doing all they could to make themselves presentable, Kurt pulled Blaine into the bathroom and kissed him again, again, again, before they’d said good night and headed their separate ways - but not without plans to meet up again the following evening.
So, Blaine thought that maybe he was finally starting to understand whatever it was that everyone he’d gone to school with had been figuring out one by one (or two by two) for years. He felt like he’d gained admittance to a secret club, or rather, like he’d sneaked in through the side door when no one was looking. It was all so new to him, raw and delicate, like shoots creeping out of the ground when the frost was gone. He wanted to laugh, his nerves kept him on the verge of biting his fingernails to the quick, and he longed. He’d been longing to see Kurt again since the moment they’d said good-bye the night before.
Although he could have stayed in bed for hours, Blaine was well aware that it would only make the day go by more slowly, when all he wanted was to blink his eyes and find that the clock was already reading seven-thirty in the evening, when he had agreed to meet Kurt again. Groaning, Blaine pulled himself up and, when he opened his door, he was surprised to find Rachel passing by. She looked haggard, her eyes were puffy and red and underscored with dark lines. Blaine cringed, suddenly remembering that just because he was on cloud nine, it didn’t mean that everyone else was sharing it with him. “Good morning,” he said.
“…morning,” Rachel responded flatly, making it perfectly clear that she was leaving out the good on purpose.
“Are you feeling any better?” Blaine asked cautiously. Rachel had resisted all of his attempts at conversation the day before. She’d disappeared for a short time just before dinner, and she was even more miserable when she returned, so Blaine strongly suspected that Finn hadn’t changed his mind after he’d left Quinn’s cabin.
“What do you think?” Rachel muttered. She sounded stuffed up.
“I - well, I thought -” Blaine stammered. “I was hoping that maybe a good night’s sleep would help. Maybe some breakfast?”
“I’m not going to breakfast.”
“Rachel.”
“I’m not!” she insisted. “I already told Daddy I don’t feel well. It’s my hay fever.”
Blaine looked at her, feeling helpless. “Isn’t there something I can do? Do you want to talk about it? Please?”
Rachel shook her head. “I really don’t want to, and besides, there’s not much to say. Would it make you feel better if I promise to come join you for lunch?”
“Yes,” Blaine said, and it did. Not much, but a little.
“Then I promise to come join you for lunch. In the meantime, I’m going to lie back down.”
“Okay.” He watched Rachel shuffle back to her bedroom and close the door, his brow furrowed with concern.
- / / -
Rachel kept her word, emerging from her room to walk to the main house just before noon. She assured them all that she felt much better, but her wan expression and flat voice told a different story. Although Hiram and Shelby exchanged a look of concern, they allowed her lies to pass without further comment.
They were almost done with their meal - which was eaten mainly in silence interspersed with bursts of stilted conversation - when Jacob Ben Israel bustled up to their table, holding a clipboard. “Hello, everyone,” he said, the very sound of his voice making Blaine cringe a little. “Are you all enjoying your lunch? Good, good. Rachel, I see that you signed up to sing in the talent show. I wanted to make sure that you can come to the auditorium tomorrow morning at ten o’clock sharp for the first rehearsal.”
Rachel nodded unenthusiastically. “Of course, that sounds great. I’ll be there.”
“Good! My uncle put me in charge of the show this year, and I can’t wait to get started.”
“Wonderful,” Rachel said with a forced smile.
Jacob made a note on his clipboard and then looked up at Blaine, pointing at him with his pencil. “You’ll be there, too, right Blaine? I’ll need you for props.”
Blaine refrained from rolling his eyes, choosing instead to echo Rachel’s feigned politeness. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Great! See you both tomorrow!” With a last parting glance at Rachel, he was gone as quickly as he’d appeared.
Rachel scowled at his back. “Blaine, I’ll talk to him,” she said, sounding more lively than she had all day. “If I ask him to let you sing, he’ll let you.”
But Blaine shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Rach. I don’t really mind.” He didn’t - he would have enjoyed taking part in the show, but he was so preoccupied with Kurt that he could barely find it in himself to stay upset.
“But Blaine, you’re an excellent vocalist, and he shouldn’t deny you the right to perform just because -”
“Rachel!” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s all right. Really. As long as you get to sing, I’m happy. There’s no need to go out of your way.”
“Well… okay,” she said slowly. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
They all turned back to their food, but had only taken another few bites when Rachel dropped her fork onto her plate and pushed her chair back with a loud scrape. “I’ll be right back,” she announced, and scurried away without waiting for a response. Blaine exchanged bewildered looks and shrugs with both Hiram and Shelby. He looked surreptitiously around the dining room, half expecting to see Finn somewhere, even though the staff never ate with the guests.
What he actually noticed was much worse. Blaine caught sight of Rachel’s yellow sundress on the opposite side of the dining hall a minute or two later, and an unpleasant feeling set up residence in his stomach when he saw that she was talking to Noah. He recognized the change in her immediately - the way she was looking up coquettishly from under her eyelashes, wearing a smile that looked like it was reserved for him only. When she reached out to briefly touch his arm, Blaine narrowed his eyes. He wanted to launch himself out of his chair and across the room to physically make a barrier between them. Luckily, Rachel chose that moment to leave Noah with a little wave, but Blaine didn’t like the way that Noah’s eyes followed her as she made her way back to the table.
There was nothing that he could say to her when she sat back down, not with her parents present, and Rachel steadfastly refused to meet his eye. Frustrated, he dropped his fork back to the table and covered what was left of his lunch with his napkin.
“Done with lunch, Blaine?” Hiram asked, folding his own napkin aside. “Ready to head over to the putting green?” In a desperate attempt to fill his afternoon, Blaine had agreed when one of Hiram’s friends insisted over breakfast that they teach Blaine how to swing a golf club. He also hoped that it might serve as a sort of peace offering toward his uncle, who still wasn’t treating Blaine quite the same way that he had before Quinn’s emergency.
Rachel didn’t look up as they moved to stand, concentrating instead on pushing her leftover vegetables around her plate. He’d have to figure out a way to talk to her later, although he wasn’t quite sure what he could say without betraying Quinn’s trust. There had to be something.
“Sure,” he said, turning back to Hiram. “Let’s go.”
- / / -
Rachel continued to evade Blaine for the remainder of the afternoon. After learning what had to be all the finer points of putting a golf ball, Blaine had returned to the cabin to find a note from Shelby: Rachel and I are rehearsing her songs, then headed to the pool. Come join us if you want! Blaine sighed. The pool, usually busy even on sunny days, wouldn’t be the ideal place to try to confront Rachel, and he knew that she would stubbornly refuse to leave and talk with him elsewhere. There were still a couple of hours left before dinner, so Blaine headed out to take a run, hoping to pass a bit more time. It was far from his best - he felt jagged and edgy, and he wasn’t able to find a good rhythm, his thoughts ping-ponging between Kurt and Rachel, bouncing from good to bad practically with each footstep.
The afternoon finally finished its agonizing crawl after Blaine showered and changed and made another unsuccessful attempt to read the mystery novel he’d borrowed from the lodge. At dinner, Blaine watched Rachel closely, and he was disappointed to see her exchange several significant glances with Noah throughout the service, even though he wasn’t waiting on their table.
After the meal, Hiram and Shelby left to have a drink in the hotel bar with a few of their newfound friends, which left Blaine and Rachel to walk back to their cabin alone. “Rachel, what are you doing?” he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone else.
Rachel stuck her nose in the air. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is something going on with you and Noah?” Blaine asked. “Because he… is not a very nice guy.”
“You don’t know him,” Rachel said.
“Neither do you!” Blaine retorted.
“So that means that either one of us could be right,” Rachel pointed out, continuing to look straight ahead, walking with her spine straight and her head high.
Blaine sighed, remembering Quinn’s earnest face and her plea to keep everything a secret from Rachel. “I don’t like him,” he finally said, and he knew that the words were weak and ineffectual.
“Oh, Blaine, don’t be silly. You know that I think it’s sweet when you feel like you have to protect me, but I’m eighteen years old now. I can take care of myself. Give him a chance.”
Blaine was left at a loss. There was no way he could tell the truth, but he would just make Rachel more upset if he continued to press the issue without any reason for making it a big deal. “Just be careful around him, okay?” he asked pleadingly.
“I always am,” Rachel said, the return of her steely confidence far from reassuring.
- / / -
A chilly silence had reigned between Blaine and Rachel when they made it back to the cabin. Perhaps for that reason, Rachel didn’t question Blaine when he made the excuse that he needed some fresh air. He ambled off, ignoring every urge to quicken his steps. Kurt had asked Blaine to meet him at a trailhead that Blaine wasn’t able to find on the hotel’s complimentary hiking maps. It wasn’t too far from the staff area, so Blaine headed in that direction, already trying to decide what alibi he could use to explain what had kept him away from the cabin for so long.
As worried as Blaine was about Rachel, she was all but gone from his mind when he spotted Kurt leaning against a tree and waiting for him. Blaine was reminded suddenly of the day that he’d stood with Kurt to watch Rachel’s first rehearsal, when he hadn’t even been sure that Kurt would want to talk to him at all. It seemed now like it had happened a million years ago or to someone else entirely, especially when he saw the way Kurt’s face changed when he noticed him - Kurt’s eyes lit up as a secretive smile widened his mouth.
“Hi,” Blaine greeted Kurt as soon as he was near enough. He stuck his hands in his pockets, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and touching if he didn’t. Fighting back the urge, he said playfully, “I never pictured you as a hiker.”
“Oh, I’m not,” Kurt assured him. “We’re not going that far. There’s a good spot to watch the sunset just up this way. Come on.”
Blaine followed Kurt closely along a dirt path, which climbed into the forest for a little more than a quarter mile. They emerged from the woods into a small clearing, which contained, to Blaine’s surprise, a dilapidated gazebo and a weathered wooden bench. Beyond them, the landscape opened up to a wide view of the mountains, cut into swaths of light and shadow by the glow of the late-day sun and dipping down to the lake. “Wow,” Blaine said, stepping past Kurt to get closer to the edge of the overlook. “Why is this here?”
“It’s part of the original resort,” Kurt answered. “Did you know that this used to be all there was? Just the staff area, I mean?”
Blaine turned to find that Kurt was now sitting primly on the bench. “No,” he replied, turning and walking back to join him.
“The hotel has been in business for over a hundred years,” Kurt explained. “But the main house and all the guest accommodations that are here now are much newer than that. It used to be just our part - some of the staff cabins were used for guests and they had meals in the bigger one.”
“Really? Why wasn’t it closer down by the lake?” Blaine sat, scooting in beside Kurt on the bench and hoping that he had permission to do that now.
“I think they used to keep animals - horses, maybe? Cattle? Anyway, they were pastured where all the main buildings are now. Or at least that’s what one of the guys told me once. I’m not sure if it’s true or not. Max obviously isn’t very interested in maintaining any of it.”
Blaine looked over at the gazebo, noting that part of the roof had actually caved in. He thought about the torn screens and crooked doors he’d seen at the other rundown staff buildings and said, “Obviously not.”
“We still come up here sometimes. It’s a good place to get a little privacy,” Kurt finished.
“Oh,” Blaine said. “So, what if someone else shows up?” He shifted back a little bit on the bench, putting an inch or two of space between them.
“Finn and I let it slip that one of us would probably be up here tonight -”
“Wait,” Blaine cut him off, an icy lick of fear zooming up his spine. “Finn knows we’re up here?”
Kurt shook his head. “Finn knows that I’m up here. That’s it. So hopefully everyone else will steer clear. We all try to look out for each other. But still, we shouldn’t - um, get carried away.”
Blaine couldn’t deny that he felt a tiny twinge of disappointment at that, but it was overshadowed by something else, something warm and glowing. He looked down at his hands in his lap, a smile growing on his face as another one of his worries tumbled away. Kurt did want to spend time with him. Just spend time. He glanced up curiously when Kurt’s hand came into view, picking up one of Blaine’s and twining their fingers together. “Okay?” Kurt asked.
“Okay,” Blaine said. Kurt wedged their joined hands into the small space between their legs, so that the back of Blaine’s was pressed up against Kurt’s thigh, and Kurt’s was right next to his. Blaine took a deep breath that came out a little shuddery and leaned back against the bench. They sat in a companionable silence while the sun dragged itself lower in the sky.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Kurt asked a short time later, the question sounding stiff and rehearsed.
Blaine turned back toward him, unable to help but admire the strong line of Kurt’s profile. “What’s that?”
“The other night,” Kurt said, “you mentioned you were afraid of moving away. Where are you going? Not back to Ohio?”
It wasn’t exactly the question that Blaine had been expecting, and it made something heavy coalesce in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen after Kellerman’s. “Only to pack up my things. I’m starting college in the fall at NYU.”
“New York?” Kurt asked, his voice suddenly wistful. “I always wanted to go to New York.”
Blaine’s heart leapt a little, and he tamped it quickly back down. He and Kurt couldn’t have what other people had, not here, not there, and not anywhere else either. Being two people in the same city of millions wouldn’t make any difference as far as that was concerned. It would be better in the long run to just learn to enjoy what he had right in this moment, and, for now, push the painful thoughts away. “Why didn’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s a long story,” Kurt hedged.
Blaine smiled at him. “The sun’s not even behind the mountains yet. We’ve got time.” He gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze.
There was a moment of silence. “Have you ever heard of NYADA?” Kurt finally asked.
Blaine’s brow creased and he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts,” Kurt explained. “It’s a school for performing arts. For theater.”
“You want to be on stage? Like on Broadway? Kurt, you’d be so good at that!” Blaine exclaimed. “Your voice is amazing, and you can dance…” His voice trailed away when he noticed Kurt shaking his head.
“There aren’t a lot of parts written for men with my particular vocal range,” Kurt pointed out. “But yes, I’ve always dreamed of being on a Broadway stage, even if it’s just in the chorus.”
“But NYADA… you didn’t go?”
Kurt sighed. “They gave me an audition, but I canceled it.”
“Kurt, why?” Blaine asked softly.
Even though Blaine was watching him, Kurt continued to look out at the panorama in front of them. “It’s complicated. My dad owns a garage back home. Carole - that’s Finn’s mom - is a nurse. We were comfortable, but we were never wealthy.” Kurt shifted a little on the bench, and Blaine felt his muscles tense and contract against his hand. “Finn and I both had big plans. He was the starting quarterback on our high school football team. He wanted to keep playing, but he really just wanted to go to college. He didn’t have the grades, so he knew that he would need a scholarship to get into a good school. And… he didn’t get one. He was devastated.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Blaine said into the pause that followed, waiting for Kurt to go on.
Kurt seemed to be considering something, and then he added, “It’s why he wasn’t very nice to you when we first met.”
Blaine blinked. “He didn’t like me because he didn’t get a football scholarship?”
“He tends to be very resentful of anyone who he thinks is getting opportunities that he hasn’t gotten just because they’re able to pay for them,” Kurt clarified. “He was jealous.”
“But - Rachel’s going to Juilliard! He wasn’t resentful about that?”
Kurt gave him a side-eyed glance. “He thought Rachel was cute.”
“I see,” Blaine said, speaking much more lightly. “But not me.”
“No, not you.”
His heart thudded in his chest as he blurted out, “You did, though. Um… didn’t you?”
Blaine felt the pressure around his fingers tighten, and saw that Kurt was clearly fighting a smile. “Be that as it may, Finn didn’t, and that’s why he was nicer to Rachel than he was to you.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you turned down your audition,” Blaine said gently.
The mirth slid instantly from Kurt’s face. “NYADA is very exclusive. They only accept around twenty students a year, and only two of those get scholarships,” he said. “It’s also very expensive. There wouldn’t have been enough money to send both Finn and me to college as it was, and then my dad had a heart attack, so there were medical bills… There just wasn’t any way.”
“But Kurt… what if you had gotten a scholarship? Now you’ll never know.”
Kurt’s face was bleak. “And what if I hadn’t? What if they’d given me a spot but I had to turn it down? It would have killed me, and what’s worse, it would have killed my father. I couldn’t do that to him. He would have stopped taking his medicine if it would have meant more money for me to go to school. He would have offered, at least, and I couldn’t have him do that. I refuse to bankrupt him or put his health at risk.”
Blaine caught the gleam of wetness in Kurt’s eyes, illuminated by the blaze of the late-day sun, and he felt his own throat start to constrict. He held Kurt’s hand tighter and pressed it hard against the side of his leg. Kurt returned the pressure and they were locked so tightly together that Blaine could feel the long bones of their fingers shift against each other. “Maybe you can still go some day,” he offered. “I think you should. Don’t give up hope - there have to be other avenues.”
“Maybe,” Kurt said in a voice that meant I’m not so sure. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. “So, what’s your plan? What are you going to study?” he asked, his tone full of forced cheer.
Blaine allowed his grip around Kurt’s hand to ease a little and accepted the change of topic. “I’m not sure exactly which major I’m going to pick yet, but something that will help me out with law school. History maybe? Or English composition?”
“You want to be a lawyer?” Kurt sounded surprised.
“Yeah,” Blaine said, looking back down at his knees. “That’s kind of a long story too.”
“The sun isn’t completely gone yet,” Kurt commented, one side of his mouth turning up in an encouraging smile.
Blaine returned it fleetingly. “My dad wanted to be a lawyer,” he said, “It was his dream growing up, but he left college to fight in the war. By the time that was over, he knew that he’d have to support Mom - and me - one way or another, especially since my grandparents cut him off, so he found a job instead of going back to school.”
“They cut him off? Just because he married your mother?”
“My grandparents are Jewish, and they’re very traditional,” Blaine said. “They didn’t approve of him marrying someone who wasn’t.”
“Still!” Kurt exclaimed, almost sounding like he was affronted on Blaine’s father’s behalf. “That’s a pretty extreme reaction.”
Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know them at all. I’ve actually only met them twice - once at Rachel’s house, which was a complete accident, and once at my parents’ funeral. They seemed pretty… severe. I guess my dad never really got along with them. They had a huge falling out when he told them about my mom and me. My dad was so mad that he changed his name from Yosef Berry to Joe Anderson, and as far as I know, he never spoke to them again.”
Kurt’s eyes were round. “Wow.”
“Yeah. So, anyway, he had to get a job, and he ended up doing door-to-door sales for the Fuller Brush Company.”
“Your dad was a Fuller Brush Man?” Kurt asked, amused.
“Yup,” Blaine confirmed, “and a good one, too. It’s not that different from being a lawyer, if you think about it.”
Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. “Selling cleaning supplies door-to-door isn’t that much different from being a lawyer?”
“In both cases, your success depends upon making a persuasive argument,” Blaine said, parroting the words he’d heard his father say so many times. “He didn’t like it very much, though.”
“So you’re… living out his dream?”
Blaine shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m part of the reason he wasn’t able to follow through with it.”
“But - is it something that you want to do?”
Blaine was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded. “My parents always wanted me to live the American dream - you know, be anything that I wanted to be, do everything that they couldn’t, that sort of thing. What my dad really meant was ‘Blaine, be a lawyer, because I didn’t get to.’ But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like something I really wanted to do. It’s probably not going to be like he expected. I want to use my career to help people. I’m not sure how it’s going to work yet, but I have to get through school first, so I’ll figure it out.”
He turned to find Kurt smiling at him softly, the last flush of the sunset warming his skin and making him squint. “That sounds perfect.”
“Thank you,” Blaine said, and he wanted to kiss Kurt so badly that it was as physical as a hunger pang.
Kurt broke eye contact to glance over his shoulder into the woods. He faced Blaine again and murmured, “Oh, all right, then,” before leaning forward. Blaine eagerly met him halfway to exchange a handful of lush, lingering kisses that, even for all their sweetness, made his toes curl inside his shoes. Kurt punctuated them with a flick of his tongue against Blaine’s lips, and then he backed off, pulling a small groan out of Blaine’s mouth as he went. “No getting carried away,” Kurt whispered.
“If you say so,” Blaine said, trying and failing to keep the petulant tone out of his voice.
Kurt’s lips twisted up into a grin. “We should get going soon, anyway. The sun really is almost down now, and it’s already going to be dark going back through the woods. You’ll have to hold my hand,” he added flirtatiously.
Blaine’s stomach fizzed. “If you say so,” he repeated.
They stood from the bench and, even though it was more shadowy than it was dark, Blaine kept close beside Kurt as they wended their way back along the trail, shifting to walk slightly behind him when it was too narrow, but always in contact until they got too close to the trailhead, and Kurt drew to a stop. “You go first,” he said. “There probably isn’t anyone there, but just in case, we shouldn’t come out together.”
Blaine nodded as the reality of their situation burst the rosy sunset bubble that he’d painted around it for the evening. “Okay. I’ll - see you later?” he asked, feeling a gnawing sense of insecurity creeping up on him again.
“You will,” Kurt said definitively. “I’ll think of something.” He gave Blaine’s hand one last squeeze and then withdrew his own.
“Good,” Blaine whispered. “Have a good night, Kurt.”
“You too,” Kurt replied, his voice low and tender. Blaine wished that he could give him one last good night kiss, but they were too close to the rest of the world now - anyone could come crashing along without more than a few seconds’ notice. Instead, he gave a pained smile and turned to leave.
Chapter Notes:
- I'm stealing the fact that the hotel has been operating for over 100 years from the real-life history of Mountain Lake Hotel, one of the locations where Dirty Dancing was filmed. The history of Mountain Lake Hotel is here: http://www.mtnlakehotel.com/Section_Home.asp?SID=30
- According to this website: http://www.healthecareers.com/article/nursing-50-years-back-and-today-how-the-nursing-field-has-changed-over-the-last-50-years/158432, nurses in the 1960s made less in one year than nurses today make in a month. So, unfortunately, Carole wasn't making much money and there really wasn't enough to pay for both Kurt and Finn's college educations without one or both of them getting a scholarship.
- Traditional Judaism does not permit interfaith marriages. More on that here: http://www.jewfaq.org/gentiles.htm.
- The Fuller Brush Company was famous for its hard working door-to-door sales force. In 1956, the company had over 7,000 salespeople who visited 90% of the homes in the United States. The "Fuller Brush Man" became an iconic character who appeared in print cartoons and even Walt Disney's The Three Little Pigs. The company sold cleaning brushes (of course), cleaning supplies, vitamins, and cosmetics. More about the Fuller Brush Company here: http://ctculturehistory.blogspot.com/2011/08/connecticut-companies-fuller-brush.html