Media: Fic
Title: Dream A Little Dream Of Me (1/?)
Author:
musiclover48Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Pairings: endgame!Blaine/Kurt, mentions of past Kurt/Chandler & Blaine/Sebastian, & other pairings/characters to be included later
Spoilers: none
Warnings: AU, sexual suggestions/situations, foul language, etc.
Word Count: 1673
Summary: Up-and-coming author Blaine Anderson draws inspiration for his books from his never-ending dreams of an amazing, gorgeous boy called Kurt. The thing is, he doesn't quite realize that Kurt, a Broadway hopeful attending NYADA, does indeed exist. This is their story.
Author's Note: So a while back, I got a prompt on Tumblr from an anon asking for a fic where Blaine is a writer that gets his inspiration from his dreams about an amazing guy (aka Kurt) and then later realizes that Kurt really does exist, which is where the first chunk of this chapter & the whole premise of the entire story came from. Then I went through a nasty break-up after finding out my now ex-boyfriend was cheating on me, which inspired the second chunk and the whole cheating storyline (especially the dialogue because some of the stuff Kurt says is what I remember telling my ex).
Anyways, enjoy the (future!AU) story. It should pretty much explain itself as you read, but if you have any questions, feel free to hit me up on here or Tumblr (where I'm also musiclover48).
- - - -
"I'll have a non-fat mocha, please."
Blaine looked at the young man curiously. "A non-fat mocha, eh?"
"But of course," his companion said in a teasingly haughty manner. "Nothing but the best for Kurt Hummel. After all, I have an appearance to keep up."
Blaine raised his eyebrows and gave Kurt a look over. As far as looks went, Kurt was absolutely stunning. His cerulean blue eyes, which captivated all who looked into them, stood out against his porcelain skin and neatly coiffed bed of chestnut hair. And he just kept getting better and better the further his eyes traveled; a broad chest, pliant hips, legs that seemed to go on forever. Overall, Kurt was the living, breathing definition of beauty.
"You won't have much trouble there," Blaine piped up as Kurt paid the barista for his order. Kurt then turned to him with a startled look, one hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised questioningly. "I mean, you look fantastic as it is. I think you can afford to have your fill of coffee every now and then."
The curly-haired man then winked suggestively, making Kurt blush and swat at him playfully. "Oh hush up, Anderson. You're one to talk, considering you've got people lining up for miles waiting to throw themselves at your feet."
"But none of them will ever come close to being as amazing as you," Blaine chuckled and gave Kurt a peck on the cheek.
"Damn straight," Kurt scoffed with a grin.
The sound of the alarm tore Blaine from his dreams. He fumbled to locate the alarm clock through his sleepy haze, blindly groping for it until he managed to slam his fist down hard enough to silence it. Rolling over with a sigh, he bitterly hoped to go back to sleep and dream of Kurt again.
He tried telling himself that it was absolutely absurd to find a sense of love and comfort in a boy that only existed in his dreams, but on the other hand, such dreams made excellent writing material. After all, his first published novel centered around his visions of Kurt and would do fairly well on the book market (or so his publicist said while prepping him with details of the impending book tour). Therefore, wanting to sleep and return to his dreams was indeed beneficial to his writing career. Besides, after all of the terrible things that had happened over the past few days, he deserved to sleep it off.
Just as he attempted to settle back under the covers, his phone began going off and the familiar Katy Perry song blared throughout the room.
"What the hell," he grumbled to himself and reached for the phone on his nightstand. "Don't people know what fucking time it is?"
"About time you picked up," Wes snapped as soon as Blaine answered. "I assume you had a nice sleep?"
"I slept just fine," Blaine grumbled, "except for being woken up so early in the goddamn morning." He looked at his alarm clock, the time reading 2:45 in the afternoon. "Oh. Never mind."
"Exactly. You slept in all morning," Wes sighed in frustration, "and we were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago to discuss the book release, remember?"
That woke Blaine up real quick.
"Oh god, I totally forgot about that," Blaine groaned, further burying himself in his bed out of frustration. "Look, give me ten minutes, alright? I'll meet you as soon as I can-"
"It's no big deal," Wes ground out. Blaine could practically hear his publicist frowning through the phone and rubbing a hand over his face exasperatedly. "We'll just reschedule for tomorrow, okay? In the meantime, get up, get ready, eat something, and go about your day, got it?"
"Got it," Blaine agreed in hopes of ending the conversation so he could go back to bed. "Just text me the details for tomorrow, and I'll set my alarm-"
"As if that ever works out for you," Wes snapped before ending the call. Blaine sighed frustratedly and tossed his phone on the pillow beside him, only to have it start ringing as soon as he did.
He groaned in frustration, but after recognizing the caller ID, quickly answered, "Yes, David?"
"You, me, and the rest of the gang are going out tonight," David firmly stated.
"Wait, what?" Blaine questioned, not quite following and not entirely sure that he wanted to.
"You haven't been the same since your break-up with Sebastian," his friend explained, "so the guys and I have decided you need to go out and have some fun. So we're going to take you out to Splash tonight, understand?"
"Do I have to?" Blaine groaned as he splayed out on his bed in frustration. "I just want to stay home blogging and writing. Is that too much to ask?"
"Yes," David replied. "Be ready to go at 8 tonight; we're hauling you off no matter what."
"Fine, asshole." Blaine mumbled before hanging up. He didn't really want to go out to the gay bar in fear of running into Sebastian, who was a regular there, but apparently he didn't have much of a choice.
- -
So far, it had been a really, really long day for Kurt. His morning wasn't all that great considering he spilled his non-fat mocha all over his favorite outfit and therefore missed his vocal and Vaudeville appreciation classes at NYADA, which left him in Carmen Tibideaux's bad graces the remainder of the day. As if that wasn't bad enough, his car broke down five blocks from his apartment so he was forced to walk the remainder of the way (on the hottest day of the year no less), only to arrive at his apartment complex to find out that the elevators weren't working and walk seven flights of stairs in order to reach his floor.
All he wanted to do was relax and spend some time cuddling up with Chandler, his loving, endearing boyfriend who was supposed to already be waiting for him at the apartment. What Kurt didn't want to do was walk in on his boyfriend being fucked by another guy on the living room couch. His living room couch. In his apartment.
"What the hell is going on here?" Kurt exclaimed furiously, getting the attention of Chandler and the unknown man. However, when the stranger finally turned to give Kurt a scowl, Kurt recognized him immediately. "Sebastian?"
"Hey there, gay face." Sebastian replied with a cocky grin, still pinning Chandler to the couch with his hips. "Welcome home."
Kurt absolutely hated Chandler's ex-boyfriend, all the way from his horribly dyed hair down to his gaudy knock-off shoes. He'd hoped Sebastian wouldn't prove to be a problem in their relationship, since Chandler and Sebastian had apparently stuck to being awfully good friends after their break-up a few years back, and that they could work around Sebastian's constant need to control everything about Chandler's life. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be working out too well.
Chandler quickly shoved Sebastian off and scrambled to find his clothes while attempting to weasel his way out of the situation, "Kurt, I can explain-"
"Get out," Kurt snarled, picking up a pair of pants and hurling them at Chandler. "I want you out of my fucking apartment!"
"You can't just kick me out - I live here, too!" Chandler snapped.
"Well I'm the one that pays for this place," Kurt spat, "so I have the right to tell you to get all of your shit and find somewhere else to live!"
"Someone's got their panties in a twist," Sebastian muttered as he plopped back down on the couch, now fully clothed. "I mean honestly, Hummel, what did you expect? Chandler and I have something you two never had, so you probably should've seen this coming."
Kurt ignored Sebastian, too angry and frustrated to deal with him, and instead directed his attention at Chandler. "All I want to know is why? I thought I could trust you."
"It wasn't working out between us," Chandler explained with a shrug, "I just needed to get out there and find someone else. I was going to tell you Friday-"
"Friday?" Kurt screeched. "You were going to wait another three days - during which you were probably going to continue screwing Sebastian behind my back - to finally tell me you wanted to see other people?" At the lack of response from Chandler, Kurt spoke up, "You know what? Fine. We're done."
"Let me explain," Chandler pleaded. "You have to hear me out-"
"See, the beauty of the whole thing is that I don't have to," Kurt ground out as he swiftly threw the front door open behind him. "Now, both of you - out."
When he finally got the two out of his apartment, grabbed as much of Chandler's things and threw them out the door, and settled onto a nearby armchair (he couldn't stomach touching or even looking at his couch), he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. It just wasn't fair; he'd put so much into the relationship, only to have everything thrown back in his face. Who was Chandler to go around sleeping with other guys? Kurt (if he did say so himself) was a hot piece of ass who could snag any available gay male he pleased; Chandler was blessed to have gotten the chance to be with him.
Fighting the tears away, he fumbled in his bag and sighed in relief upon locating his phone. If Chandler wanted to go out and screw around with other guys, then so could he. With shaking fingers and a lump forming in his throat, he shakily dialed up his best friend.
"Rach," he choked out as she finally answered, "it's Kurt. Look, can we go out tonight? It's a long story - well, not really - but I just need to go out and meet some new guys - yes, yes, I'll explain it later. Just make plans to go to Splash with me tonight."
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