through the looking glass 8/8
title: through the looking glass
summary: blaine believed. blaine believed so much that he didn't doubt for a second that this guy making out with him was not his boyfriend. why can't doppelgangers just stay in their parallel universes?
rating: R
pairing: klaine; altverse kinn & blina
genre: borderline crack
warnings: n/a
notes: once upon a far too long ago time, I started filling a prompt. now we've finally reached the end. saying goodbye hurts. :c thanks for sticking with it!
first chapter | previous chapter
They were still in the living room, standing in a loose circle. Blaine had Kurt on one hand and not-Kurt on the other, and it was interesting to note that they held hands the same way. Not-Quinn was holding baby Beth (the artist formerly known as Brittany) and Finn still looked all confused about what his feelings were doing at the sight of them.
"So how do we get back?" Blaine asked. "That is, without taking not-Kurt with us?"
"Maybe I'd like to go with you," not-Kurt pouted, holding on tighter to Blaine's hand. "I like you. Like-like you. Our sex life would be fantastic." He said this in such a sincere manner that Blaine felt his heart twist. Why was the universe cockblocking him? Then Kurt coughed and Blaine remembered that his boyfriend would also cockblock him. Shoot.
"The universe gives us missed connections so we can better appreciate the ones we do have," Blaine assured, because romance novels were the best example of fate at play in any medium.
"But if you leave, you'll be gone forever. So will my sweetheart Finn." Not-Kurt looked over at Finn, who was wearing an expression of growing sadness as not-Kurt's words hit home. "I already lost someone important to me today, I don't want to lose more."
"What about your Blaine?" Kurt asked. "I mean, he must exist, since he's been having sex with piles of dirt."
"Blanderson is straight," not-Kurt replied. "Apparently there's a whole sexuality changing magic power at work in our world. Or something. I wasn't paying that much attention at the time."
Blaine remembered that was due to not-Kurt groping him and checking him out, and couldn't help but frown. They had almost had it all, rolling in the deep waters of sexual compatibility.
To distract himself from these sad thoughts, Blaine tried to explain to Kurt. "Carole is married to your mom, who is a lesbian. Finn is gay. I'm straight. Santana is claiming straight but she and Brittany had a hate-attraction thing going on. Quinn is gay. Things are different here."
"Actually, I'm bi," not-Quinn said. "I just never wanted to leave her side."
"Maybe things aren't so different," Kurt said, looking at not-Quinn with interest. "Last week, our Quinn, while making fun of Santana and Rachel having a Sapphoesque duet said that they could write a novel called Fun Things to do with Man-Hands. She's pretty pressed."
"What about our moms? And me?" Finn pointed out. "I mean, pretending you're straight is normal. Nobody pretends to be gay."
"Charming. Finn, your mother is bisexual," Kurt said slowly. "I honestly thought you knew. That's why my dad was so upset with you being homophobic, he thought you wouldn't care with Carole and all."
"That's what he meant? I thought he was just saying my mom is awesome, 'cause she is." Finn grew pensieve. "I guess that explains why there were so many ladies stealing my cereal in the mornings."
"I'm glad it doesn't bother you," Kurt said, shaking his head. "As for my mom, dad's never said but she used to be a cheerleader. In Lima, that's apparently sign of lesbian urges. Trust me, I shared their changeroom for a while. It was like soft-core porn."
"I wish my audition for the Cheerios had been better," Finn said fervently, distraught.
"Is that what you're bothered by?" Blaine asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Really?"
"What else is there?" Finn asked. "Dude, cheerleaders making out. That's like the opposite of sad."
"They're proving, inch by inch, that you have urges for inches. By which I mean dick." Not-Kurt smirked. "Something you want to tell us, sweetheart?"
"But I don't want dick," Finn said. "I've looked at your dude's porn. I don't think it's for me. No offence."
"Suuuure," not-Kurt said, and Blaine had to agree that anyone who went looking for gay porn wasn't as straight as he claimed. Still, Finn had been such a good sport about everything and Blaine decided to let him off the hook.
"Maybe in this world, the big change for a couple of people is their sexuality," Blaine said. "So Finn is gay, or he's bi and leans more that way because his mother is more open about her own sexuality, or he just got caught under not-Kurt's sexy spell, and that makes him different from our Finn. Kind of like how the difference between Kurt and not-Kurt seems to be their sex drives."
"I have a sex drive. I just don't flaunt it like a two-bit burlesque dancer," Kurt said defensively.
"Burlesque dancer?" Not-Kurt repeated, confused.
"I saw your wardrobe," Kurt said scornfully. Not-Kurt shot him a look. Blaine, tired of them squabbling over his head, gave their hands a quick squeeze.
"What's important is that maybe this other-me isn't straight, and I've gathered that he's only had this white rapping thing going on since he left Dalton. You might have a shot," Blaine said to not-Kurt. "I'd like to think me and Kurt belong together no matter the world." Kurt bit back a smile.
"Could you make me some syrup from all that sap?" Not-Kurt asked, but he had an interested gleam in his eyes.
"Stop waffling," not-Quinn said. "We have serious things to discuss, like how you're going to get home."
"Then speak, O wise witch," Kurt said, and earned a glare from not-Quinn.
"Just because I stood up for myself doesn't mean I'm going to become nice all of a sudden. I am inclined to Satan. So don't piss me off."
"I don't know, the Mayor was practically the devil himself, but he was always the nicest," Blaine said. "I so wanted him to be my dad." This got blank stares from everyone. Apparently, much like Joss, his daddy issues were unappreciated. "Just tell us how to get home. Please."
"You have to go back up to the original portal. Since my Kurt is staying here, I'm going to have to edit the spell which will be more difficult, and doing it where portal-magic's already been will help make it easier." Not-Quinn began to walk toward the stairs and the group followed, and soon they were all in not-Kurt's bedroom. There, she handed the baby to Finn. "Here, hold her while I cast the spell."
"Woah." The baby was dwarfed by his arms. Finn kept very still, barely breathing. Blaine's heart warmed at the sight. He hoped his future husband was that sweet with kids. He looked to not-Kurt, who was not-so-subtly checking out Kurt's ass. Alright.
Not-Quinn was kneeling by the bed, hands tracing sigils on the duvet while the four of them and the baby hung back. To pass the time, they sang an impromptu version of Bad Romance as baby Beth gurgled the rah rah ooh la las. It was almost as if some parts of Brittany's mind still lurked down there. Luckily children didn't remember anything that happened before the age of three.
"Okay, there." When not-Quinn rose to her feet, she looked a drained, swaying on the spot. Kurt reached out to steady her, and not-Quinn flashed him a small smile. "I need a couple of strands of hair from all of the other-yous. That way it recognizes you." They obliged, Kurt with some reluctance, reaching up to pluck out a couple of hairs, not-Kurt helping Finn because of Finn's occupied arms. To Blaine's horror, that constant on-and-off of his clothes had made his gel loosen and his curls were partly free. This must be how ugly people felt, but without the confidence that they were still attractive.
"And with that ..." not-Quin twisted the hairs together then dropped them on the bed. There was a flash, the sharp scent of sulphur to the air, and then the bed looked -- weird. Like it was only half-there, yet concrete at the same time. Blaine blinked, accepted it, and moved on. It was time to go home.
"Thanks, you've helped us a lot. Sorry it came at the price of your girlfriend, but you were too good for her," Blaine said, and not-Quinn shrugged as she took Beth back from Finn.
"I agree, I was. So I thank you for helping me realize that." Not-Quinn smirked. "Besides, now that I’ve discovered how great it is to take charge and actually use my powers, I think it’s time the Queen and King got kicked off their thrones."
"You’re going to overthrow the British monarchy?" Blaine asked, eyes wide.
"No," not-Quinn replied, giving Blaine a look. "That’s not even a king and queen. No, I’m going to become the new ruler of William McKinley High. It’s time they got a new Queen."
"I think overthrowing the British monarchy is cooler, but whatever. It’s not like the lady’s isn’t jubiletic in a pile of diamonds,” Blaine grumbled. Not-Kurt stepped out around Blaine, expression interested.
"A Queen without a King?" Not-Kurt asked idly, propping his hands on his hips. "That doesn’t seem right."
Not-Quinn blinked, looking not-Kurt up and down. "I’m not going to be your beard."
"Beards couldn’t cling to my lovely smooth skin, no worries." Not-Kurt chuckled. "But trust me, you won’t go anywhere without me. Who do you think made our current Queen Bee buzz?"
The baby in her arms suddeny squalled, wiggling. "We’ll talk." Not-Quinn said, rocking it slowly. Not-Kurt nodded, smirking. Finn continued to stare at the baby, until not-Kurt got up in his face. Finn started, along with everyone else.
"Since it's time to say bye," not-Kurt said softly, eyes big as he draped his arms over Finn's shoulders, one hand sliding to the back of Finn's neck to pull him into a kiss. Finn squeaked but didn't push not-Kurt away, his hands instead settling on not-Kurt's waist as if he wanted to draw him closer. Kurt made a horrified noise and Blaine would have shielded his eyes if there weren't two hot guys making out in front of him and removing his ability to function.
They pulled apart after a long moment, not-Kurt still staring at Finn mournfully and Finn with the dopiest look of pleasure and disbelief on his face. Blaine licked his lips as not-Kurt turned to him, expression expectant.
"I don't know how to do this goodbye," Blaine said as not-Kurt walked over. "We've ... been through a lot together."
"Gotten into some ... sticky situations," not-Kurt agreed, reaching out to cup Blaine's face in his hands. Blaine leaned into the touch, smiling softly.
"Done things that others could only dream of, and done it in leather," Blaine sighed, runing a hand down his thigh. "Can I keep the pants? I'll wear them and think of you. In the privacy of my bedroom, because hello, these don't really fit my wardrobe."
"Wear them in your bed as much as you like," not-Kurt said. "It'll be like my legs are tangled up with yours, all close and probably kind of sweaty. Those sure are tight on you." Not-Kurt looked down, eyes fixed below Blaine's waist with a despondent edge to his gaze. "So tight."
"That's what he said," Blaine said, then choked a little. He hated goodbyes.
"That's what we would be saying, if you stayed," not-Kurt said. "We can lock other-you in a closet. Please. We're perfect for each other."
Blaine finally understood Oscar Wilde. "Kurt --"
"May I remind you that I, in fact, am Kurt and this is -- what do you call them, not-Kurt?" Kurt's voice was practically dripping with hurt and venom like a pouty snake. Blaine twisted to look at him, face still framed by not-Kurt's hands.
"Kurt, I'm sorry. I was going to tell him I can't stay. I could never. And you're the main reason why," Blaine said carefully, and Kurt's brow smoothed out. "He's just ... you. And I never want to say goodbye to you." Kurt's lips twitched before he rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Say your big dramatic goodbye. I'll be over here, not caring." Kurt crossed his arms and frowned, but Blaine had just been given permission to be dramatic so he was in too good a mood to care. He turned back to not-Kurt, who looked distraught. One of the hands on his face fell away, sliding down to cradle Blaine's lower back and pulling him closer in half-hug.
"It'll be alright," Blaine said, patting not-Kurt's biceps. "Maybe not-Quinn will invent portal-post. Or our cell providers could branch out into parallel universes. You never know."
"No, I guess not," not-Kurt muttered, before his lips were crashing against Blaine's in a kiss. It was hard and overly wet and entirely perfect, and Blaine clutched tightly to not-Kurt's arms as he was dipped back. It seemed to last forever, and if it weren't for the twinge in Blaine's back and the blood rushing to his head, he probably would have let it go on for a few more forevers.
They slowly straightened, and took even longer to pull apart. Blaine's eyes reopened as he gave a surprised laugh. Not-Kurt smiled in return, patting Blaine's cheek fondly.
"You know, I'm surprised you didn't grope me," Blaine said.
"I was aiming for grand, romantic guesture," not-Kurt replied. "Thought your boyfriend might be more okay with that."
"I was okay with it," Kurt said in a strangely breathy tone. When Blaine looked over, Kurt's cheeks were flushed and he was hugging himself tightly, awkwardly slumped. Blaine blinked, then shared a smirk with not-Kurt. Ooh la la.
"I hate to interrupt your gay threesome -- again -- but the portal won't last forever," not-Quinn said, bouncing baby Beth. "You better go all together."
"Then this is goodbye for real." Blaine grabbed not-Kurt's hand, squeezing tightly, before pulling him into an impulsive hug. "Take care of yourself," Blaine whispered. "You matter. Also, kick your Finn in the balls for me."
"Will do," not-Kurt said, pressing a small kiss to Blaine's cheek before pushing him away. "Okay, now get out of here before you losers ruin my awesome rep anymore."
"Bye," Finn said sadly as Blaine grabbed his hand and Kurt's. "You're the best Kurt ever, and I'll never forget you."
"Hey!" Kurt snapped. The three of them were against the edge of the bed now, not-Quinn off to the side with -Kurt to give them room. "You have horrible taste."
"Oh, I would say he tastes pretty good," not-Kurt said with a wiggle of his fingers. "Bye honeys."
"Bye," Finn and Blaine said simultaneously, Kurt sniffing in annoyance, and then they were in free-fall and space and time were shifting and there was darkness pressing everywhere as they went down
down
down
down the rabbit hole.
***
The last thing Blaine saw was not-Kurt smiling, so it was appropriate that the first thing he saw when they jolted back into place on a familiar bed was Kurt scowling. "I hate you all," Kurt said as he rolled off the bed, falling on the floor ungracefully. Blaine remained, feeling Finn shifting to his side as they both watched Kurt. "I'm going to go shower the stench of dumpters, affairs, bisexual stepbrothers and dimensonal travel."
"You'll need scented soap for that last one," Blaine said wisely. "It's got a sort of photon smell you just can't shake."
"I'm not bisexual," Finn said. "I just like kissing. You have a great mouth dude."
"Ugh," Kurt said. "I. Hate. You. All." He disappeared into the washroom, and Finn clambered off the bed as well.
"Hey, we totally just skipped the day," Finn observed, squinting at the clock. "It's like, dinner time. Mom and Burt are probably worried."
"Or they're taking advantage of the empty house," Blaine suggested. Finn quirked a half-smile.
"No way dude, they aren't building fetishists." Finn said this sincerely enough that Blaine wasn't sure if it was a joke. He settled for shrugging and scratching his chest idly in reply.
"Alright, go tell them we're alive." Blaine watched as Finn ambled off (taking a moment to pet the wall and fondly remark, it's good to be back my wall) and then stretched, wondering if Kurt would lend him some less-racy pants to wear home -- and speaking of Kurt ... Blaine shot a flirty look at his boyfriend, who had reappeared at the entrance of the bathroom.
"Finn's gone?" Kurt asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he stalked forward and fell on top of Blaine -- ouch -- and began to kiss him fiercely. Blaine blinked but hey, definitely wasn't complaining. Kurt kissed differently than not-Kurt and Blaine wondered idly for a moment what would happen if the two of them kissed. Collapsing universes, maybe, but totally worth it.
Kurt pulled back and dropping his head next to Blaine, fingers curled around Blaine's shoulder as he relaxed. Blaine began to stroke his back, curious as to what had inspired this. Then Kurt was sniffling and nuzzling closer to Blaine, and Blaine's heart clenched. "What's the matter babe?"
He didn't get an answer right away, Kurt making an embarrassed huffing noise. "I'm just really glad you came for me. Blaine -- you didn't see his wardrobe. There were tasseled nipple pasties and G-strings and fringed pants and a whole row of things that I couldn't decide were sex toys or bold new broach styles. It was horrible, like his shopping was done by the stripper child of a glam rocker. I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."
"Don't forget that not-Finn was trying to get into your pants, or the dumpster thing," Blaine said and rather nicely didn't add that he hadn't forgotten because Kurt still stank to high heaven.
Kurt smacked Blaine (not so) lightly. "Thanks. Like my therapist doesn't already have a field day with stories of my boyfriend's delusional tendencies." Kurt's therapist thought Blaine was a future cult leader, and telling her about how examplary he was at Dalton had only led her to believing that the Warblers were brainwashed. (Blaine's therapist found him a charming and engaging young man, but with risk of becoming a serial killer. Blaine didn't much like therapy.)
"Not so delusional anymore, am I?" Blaine asked smugly. "When I publish The Delicate Folds Between Worlds everyone will choose to believe."
"Uh-huh," Kurt replied doubtfully, propping himself up so he could stare down at Blaine. "Now maybe I just have Man Hands on the brain, but that sounds like lesbian erotica."
"Consider it an ode to not-Quinn," Blaine said. "It's that or I Kissed A Doppelganger and I Liked It."
Kurt rolled his eyes, dipping to kiss Blaine again. When they pulled apart again, Kurt's eyes were twinkling above flushed cheeks. "But the subtitle will be But I Like Kissing My Boyfriend More, right?"
"Of course," Blaine said dutifully. "You're always number one in my book." Blaine's little black book, in fact, consisted of only Kurt's number since he had bitterly scratched out Jeremiah's and that cute lifeguard at the community pool who was now, in fact, dating Jeremiah. Blaine had had to resort to swimming in his private pool now due to the sheer awkwardness of that situation.
"You're off the hook, but -- thank you." Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine's for a moment, then rolled over so they were lying side by side on the bed. Their hands naturally found each other, linking together. "For choosing me, for coming to get me, for saving me from that horror show of a closet. Everything, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome," Blaine said softly. "Though I think I've got a lot to be thankful for too." He looked over at Kurt, who was smiling up at the ceiling. Kurt glanced over too, smile widening as he squeezed Blaine's hand. Blaine returned the gesture, heart warm.
"You kids need anything? Some snacks? A condom?" Blaine jumped, looking over to see Burt standing in the doorway, arms crossed and expression amused. Kurt groaned, and Blaine tugged the blanket over his bare chest awkwardly. Burt gave a patented Hummel Look.
"I told you I would snap the disk in two if you ever quoted that movie again," Kurt said, pushing himself up so he could better glare at his dad.
"I have a VHS copy too kid." Burt shared a look with Blaine, who was sympathetic; Kurt's threat was a gross violation of good taste. "Considering me and Carole thought you three were up to something hanky up here, it's a valid question. Finn told us there was 'lots of kissing.'"
"That's right. Finn's been paying us to make out in front of him so he can pick up some tricks that don't involve attacking Rachel ... or Quinn's ... face like it's a half-price burrito." Kurt got up off the bed, tugging at Blaine, who followed.
"That why you kids missed school?" Burt asked, and Blaine froze, sharing a look with Kurt. Uh-oh.
"Would you believe that we were in a parallel universe?" Blaine asked, using his most charming smile on an unaffected Burt, who was probably used to beguiling after being married to Kurt's elf mother. Crap, that's what he had forgotten to check while in the paraverse. He hoped not-Quinn put a rush on that portal-post.
"No. I would believe that you were smoking drugs, with stories like that." Burt shook his head. "We're going to talk about this after dinner, Kurt. It'll give you time to figure out how to argue me down to a week grounding. Until then, come eat. Blaine too. You probably have the munchies anyhow."
"Okay dad."
With that Burt left, and Blaine leant into Kurt. "Your dad is so cool," Blaine said with delight, and Kurt clucked his tongue sharply.
"You're not allowed to tell anyone else that we went to a parallel universe. I've already got an ill-begotten reputation as a lush at school, I don't need my boyfriend becoming a stoner," Kurt sniffed.
"What about my book?" Blaine asked, wounded. "I Kissed a Doppelganger is going to be a bestseller."
"As long as the subsubtitle isn't Based on a True Story," Kurt said. "Then I might consider going out in public with you again."
"So kind," Blaine teased, and Kurt shot him a look.
"As far as I'm concerned, today was a one-off incident that we will avoid mentioning on a daily basis."
"You never know, it could happen again." Blaine grinned. "Imagine everyone's faces if not-Kurt strolled in with his nipple ring and fuck-everyone-sexily attitude?"
"Nipple ring." Kurt repeated grumpily. "They would probably all have spontaneous orgasms on the spot and pass out. Can we go eat?"
Blaine headed for the door, pulling Kurt along gently. He knew he could be oblivious ocasionally but he did get why Kurt was annoyed. "Sure. And that whole, not bringing this up on a daily basis thing works for me." Blaine shot a smile over his shoulder at Kurt.
"Really?" Kurt relaxed. "That's sweet of you."
"Just keeping the magic alive," Blaine said, giving Kurt his most meaningful look as they got to the stairs. Kurt smiled, then frowned.
"Not literal magic, right?"
Blaine remembered the sigils not-Quinn had drawn, the incantations she had muttered. He could name every spell used in Harry Potter and Discworld, so remembering some magience was pie, easy as. Playing around with it would be useful, and it couldn't hurt ...
"Of course not babe," Blaine said. No, it couldn't, as long as he had this, as long as he had his Kurt. "I love you."
"I love you too." Blaine pulled Kurt into a sweet kiss, knowing everything was in its proper place.
end
summary: blaine believed. blaine believed so much that he didn't doubt for a second that this guy making out with him was not his boyfriend. why can't doppelgangers just stay in their parallel universes?
rating: R
pairing: klaine; altverse kinn & blina
genre: borderline crack
warnings: n/a
notes: once upon a far too long ago time, I started filling a prompt. now we've finally reached the end. saying goodbye hurts. :c thanks for sticking with it!
first chapter | previous chapter
They were still in the living room, standing in a loose circle. Blaine had Kurt on one hand and not-Kurt on the other, and it was interesting to note that they held hands the same way. Not-Quinn was holding baby Beth (the artist formerly known as Brittany) and Finn still looked all confused about what his feelings were doing at the sight of them.
"So how do we get back?" Blaine asked. "That is, without taking not-Kurt with us?"
"Maybe I'd like to go with you," not-Kurt pouted, holding on tighter to Blaine's hand. "I like you. Like-like you. Our sex life would be fantastic." He said this in such a sincere manner that Blaine felt his heart twist. Why was the universe cockblocking him? Then Kurt coughed and Blaine remembered that his boyfriend would also cockblock him. Shoot.
"The universe gives us missed connections so we can better appreciate the ones we do have," Blaine assured, because romance novels were the best example of fate at play in any medium.
"But if you leave, you'll be gone forever. So will my sweetheart Finn." Not-Kurt looked over at Finn, who was wearing an expression of growing sadness as not-Kurt's words hit home. "I already lost someone important to me today, I don't want to lose more."
"What about your Blaine?" Kurt asked. "I mean, he must exist, since he's been having sex with piles of dirt."
"Blanderson is straight," not-Kurt replied. "Apparently there's a whole sexuality changing magic power at work in our world. Or something. I wasn't paying that much attention at the time."
Blaine remembered that was due to not-Kurt groping him and checking him out, and couldn't help but frown. They had almost had it all, rolling in the deep waters of sexual compatibility.
To distract himself from these sad thoughts, Blaine tried to explain to Kurt. "Carole is married to your mom, who is a lesbian. Finn is gay. I'm straight. Santana is claiming straight but she and Brittany had a hate-attraction thing going on. Quinn is gay. Things are different here."
"Actually, I'm bi," not-Quinn said. "I just never wanted to leave her side."
"Maybe things aren't so different," Kurt said, looking at not-Quinn with interest. "Last week, our Quinn, while making fun of Santana and Rachel having a Sapphoesque duet said that they could write a novel called Fun Things to do with Man-Hands. She's pretty pressed."
"What about our moms? And me?" Finn pointed out. "I mean, pretending you're straight is normal. Nobody pretends to be gay."
"Charming. Finn, your mother is bisexual," Kurt said slowly. "I honestly thought you knew. That's why my dad was so upset with you being homophobic, he thought you wouldn't care with Carole and all."
"That's what he meant? I thought he was just saying my mom is awesome, 'cause she is." Finn grew pensieve. "I guess that explains why there were so many ladies stealing my cereal in the mornings."
"I'm glad it doesn't bother you," Kurt said, shaking his head. "As for my mom, dad's never said but she used to be a cheerleader. In Lima, that's apparently sign of lesbian urges. Trust me, I shared their changeroom for a while. It was like soft-core porn."
"I wish my audition for the Cheerios had been better," Finn said fervently, distraught.
"Is that what you're bothered by?" Blaine asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Really?"
"What else is there?" Finn asked. "Dude, cheerleaders making out. That's like the opposite of sad."
"They're proving, inch by inch, that you have urges for inches. By which I mean dick." Not-Kurt smirked. "Something you want to tell us, sweetheart?"
"But I don't want dick," Finn said. "I've looked at your dude's porn. I don't think it's for me. No offence."
"Suuuure," not-Kurt said, and Blaine had to agree that anyone who went looking for gay porn wasn't as straight as he claimed. Still, Finn had been such a good sport about everything and Blaine decided to let him off the hook.
"Maybe in this world, the big change for a couple of people is their sexuality," Blaine said. "So Finn is gay, or he's bi and leans more that way because his mother is more open about her own sexuality, or he just got caught under not-Kurt's sexy spell, and that makes him different from our Finn. Kind of like how the difference between Kurt and not-Kurt seems to be their sex drives."
"I have a sex drive. I just don't flaunt it like a two-bit burlesque dancer," Kurt said defensively.
"Burlesque dancer?" Not-Kurt repeated, confused.
"I saw your wardrobe," Kurt said scornfully. Not-Kurt shot him a look. Blaine, tired of them squabbling over his head, gave their hands a quick squeeze.
"What's important is that maybe this other-me isn't straight, and I've gathered that he's only had this white rapping thing going on since he left Dalton. You might have a shot," Blaine said to not-Kurt. "I'd like to think me and Kurt belong together no matter the world." Kurt bit back a smile.
"Could you make me some syrup from all that sap?" Not-Kurt asked, but he had an interested gleam in his eyes.
"Stop waffling," not-Quinn said. "We have serious things to discuss, like how you're going to get home."
"Then speak, O wise witch," Kurt said, and earned a glare from not-Quinn.
"Just because I stood up for myself doesn't mean I'm going to become nice all of a sudden. I am inclined to Satan. So don't piss me off."
"I don't know, the Mayor was practically the devil himself, but he was always the nicest," Blaine said. "I so wanted him to be my dad." This got blank stares from everyone. Apparently, much like Joss, his daddy issues were unappreciated. "Just tell us how to get home. Please."
"You have to go back up to the original portal. Since my Kurt is staying here, I'm going to have to edit the spell which will be more difficult, and doing it where portal-magic's already been will help make it easier." Not-Quinn began to walk toward the stairs and the group followed, and soon they were all in not-Kurt's bedroom. There, she handed the baby to Finn. "Here, hold her while I cast the spell."
"Woah." The baby was dwarfed by his arms. Finn kept very still, barely breathing. Blaine's heart warmed at the sight. He hoped his future husband was that sweet with kids. He looked to not-Kurt, who was not-so-subtly checking out Kurt's ass. Alright.
Not-Quinn was kneeling by the bed, hands tracing sigils on the duvet while the four of them and the baby hung back. To pass the time, they sang an impromptu version of Bad Romance as baby Beth gurgled the rah rah ooh la las. It was almost as if some parts of Brittany's mind still lurked down there. Luckily children didn't remember anything that happened before the age of three.
"Okay, there." When not-Quinn rose to her feet, she looked a drained, swaying on the spot. Kurt reached out to steady her, and not-Quinn flashed him a small smile. "I need a couple of strands of hair from all of the other-yous. That way it recognizes you." They obliged, Kurt with some reluctance, reaching up to pluck out a couple of hairs, not-Kurt helping Finn because of Finn's occupied arms. To Blaine's horror, that constant on-and-off of his clothes had made his gel loosen and his curls were partly free. This must be how ugly people felt, but without the confidence that they were still attractive.
"And with that ..." not-Quin twisted the hairs together then dropped them on the bed. There was a flash, the sharp scent of sulphur to the air, and then the bed looked -- weird. Like it was only half-there, yet concrete at the same time. Blaine blinked, accepted it, and moved on. It was time to go home.
"Thanks, you've helped us a lot. Sorry it came at the price of your girlfriend, but you were too good for her," Blaine said, and not-Quinn shrugged as she took Beth back from Finn.
"I agree, I was. So I thank you for helping me realize that." Not-Quinn smirked. "Besides, now that I’ve discovered how great it is to take charge and actually use my powers, I think it’s time the Queen and King got kicked off their thrones."
"You’re going to overthrow the British monarchy?" Blaine asked, eyes wide.
"No," not-Quinn replied, giving Blaine a look. "That’s not even a king and queen. No, I’m going to become the new ruler of William McKinley High. It’s time they got a new Queen."
"I think overthrowing the British monarchy is cooler, but whatever. It’s not like the lady’s isn’t jubiletic in a pile of diamonds,” Blaine grumbled. Not-Kurt stepped out around Blaine, expression interested.
"A Queen without a King?" Not-Kurt asked idly, propping his hands on his hips. "That doesn’t seem right."
Not-Quinn blinked, looking not-Kurt up and down. "I’m not going to be your beard."
"Beards couldn’t cling to my lovely smooth skin, no worries." Not-Kurt chuckled. "But trust me, you won’t go anywhere without me. Who do you think made our current Queen Bee buzz?"
The baby in her arms suddeny squalled, wiggling. "We’ll talk." Not-Quinn said, rocking it slowly. Not-Kurt nodded, smirking. Finn continued to stare at the baby, until not-Kurt got up in his face. Finn started, along with everyone else.
"Since it's time to say bye," not-Kurt said softly, eyes big as he draped his arms over Finn's shoulders, one hand sliding to the back of Finn's neck to pull him into a kiss. Finn squeaked but didn't push not-Kurt away, his hands instead settling on not-Kurt's waist as if he wanted to draw him closer. Kurt made a horrified noise and Blaine would have shielded his eyes if there weren't two hot guys making out in front of him and removing his ability to function.
They pulled apart after a long moment, not-Kurt still staring at Finn mournfully and Finn with the dopiest look of pleasure and disbelief on his face. Blaine licked his lips as not-Kurt turned to him, expression expectant.
"I don't know how to do this goodbye," Blaine said as not-Kurt walked over. "We've ... been through a lot together."
"Gotten into some ... sticky situations," not-Kurt agreed, reaching out to cup Blaine's face in his hands. Blaine leaned into the touch, smiling softly.
"Done things that others could only dream of, and done it in leather," Blaine sighed, runing a hand down his thigh. "Can I keep the pants? I'll wear them and think of you. In the privacy of my bedroom, because hello, these don't really fit my wardrobe."
"Wear them in your bed as much as you like," not-Kurt said. "It'll be like my legs are tangled up with yours, all close and probably kind of sweaty. Those sure are tight on you." Not-Kurt looked down, eyes fixed below Blaine's waist with a despondent edge to his gaze. "So tight."
"That's what he said," Blaine said, then choked a little. He hated goodbyes.
"That's what we would be saying, if you stayed," not-Kurt said. "We can lock other-you in a closet. Please. We're perfect for each other."
Blaine finally understood Oscar Wilde. "Kurt --"
"May I remind you that I, in fact, am Kurt and this is -- what do you call them, not-Kurt?" Kurt's voice was practically dripping with hurt and venom like a pouty snake. Blaine twisted to look at him, face still framed by not-Kurt's hands.
"Kurt, I'm sorry. I was going to tell him I can't stay. I could never. And you're the main reason why," Blaine said carefully, and Kurt's brow smoothed out. "He's just ... you. And I never want to say goodbye to you." Kurt's lips twitched before he rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Say your big dramatic goodbye. I'll be over here, not caring." Kurt crossed his arms and frowned, but Blaine had just been given permission to be dramatic so he was in too good a mood to care. He turned back to not-Kurt, who looked distraught. One of the hands on his face fell away, sliding down to cradle Blaine's lower back and pulling him closer in half-hug.
"It'll be alright," Blaine said, patting not-Kurt's biceps. "Maybe not-Quinn will invent portal-post. Or our cell providers could branch out into parallel universes. You never know."
"No, I guess not," not-Kurt muttered, before his lips were crashing against Blaine's in a kiss. It was hard and overly wet and entirely perfect, and Blaine clutched tightly to not-Kurt's arms as he was dipped back. It seemed to last forever, and if it weren't for the twinge in Blaine's back and the blood rushing to his head, he probably would have let it go on for a few more forevers.
They slowly straightened, and took even longer to pull apart. Blaine's eyes reopened as he gave a surprised laugh. Not-Kurt smiled in return, patting Blaine's cheek fondly.
"You know, I'm surprised you didn't grope me," Blaine said.
"I was aiming for grand, romantic guesture," not-Kurt replied. "Thought your boyfriend might be more okay with that."
"I was okay with it," Kurt said in a strangely breathy tone. When Blaine looked over, Kurt's cheeks were flushed and he was hugging himself tightly, awkwardly slumped. Blaine blinked, then shared a smirk with not-Kurt. Ooh la la.
"I hate to interrupt your gay threesome -- again -- but the portal won't last forever," not-Quinn said, bouncing baby Beth. "You better go all together."
"Then this is goodbye for real." Blaine grabbed not-Kurt's hand, squeezing tightly, before pulling him into an impulsive hug. "Take care of yourself," Blaine whispered. "You matter. Also, kick your Finn in the balls for me."
"Will do," not-Kurt said, pressing a small kiss to Blaine's cheek before pushing him away. "Okay, now get out of here before you losers ruin my awesome rep anymore."
"Bye," Finn said sadly as Blaine grabbed his hand and Kurt's. "You're the best Kurt ever, and I'll never forget you."
"Hey!" Kurt snapped. The three of them were against the edge of the bed now, not-Quinn off to the side with -Kurt to give them room. "You have horrible taste."
"Oh, I would say he tastes pretty good," not-Kurt said with a wiggle of his fingers. "Bye honeys."
"Bye," Finn and Blaine said simultaneously, Kurt sniffing in annoyance, and then they were in free-fall and space and time were shifting and there was darkness pressing everywhere as they went down
down
down
down the rabbit hole.
***
The last thing Blaine saw was not-Kurt smiling, so it was appropriate that the first thing he saw when they jolted back into place on a familiar bed was Kurt scowling. "I hate you all," Kurt said as he rolled off the bed, falling on the floor ungracefully. Blaine remained, feeling Finn shifting to his side as they both watched Kurt. "I'm going to go shower the stench of dumpters, affairs, bisexual stepbrothers and dimensonal travel."
"You'll need scented soap for that last one," Blaine said wisely. "It's got a sort of photon smell you just can't shake."
"I'm not bisexual," Finn said. "I just like kissing. You have a great mouth dude."
"Ugh," Kurt said. "I. Hate. You. All." He disappeared into the washroom, and Finn clambered off the bed as well.
"Hey, we totally just skipped the day," Finn observed, squinting at the clock. "It's like, dinner time. Mom and Burt are probably worried."
"Or they're taking advantage of the empty house," Blaine suggested. Finn quirked a half-smile.
"No way dude, they aren't building fetishists." Finn said this sincerely enough that Blaine wasn't sure if it was a joke. He settled for shrugging and scratching his chest idly in reply.
"Alright, go tell them we're alive." Blaine watched as Finn ambled off (taking a moment to pet the wall and fondly remark, it's good to be back my wall) and then stretched, wondering if Kurt would lend him some less-racy pants to wear home -- and speaking of Kurt ... Blaine shot a flirty look at his boyfriend, who had reappeared at the entrance of the bathroom.
"Finn's gone?" Kurt asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he stalked forward and fell on top of Blaine -- ouch -- and began to kiss him fiercely. Blaine blinked but hey, definitely wasn't complaining. Kurt kissed differently than not-Kurt and Blaine wondered idly for a moment what would happen if the two of them kissed. Collapsing universes, maybe, but totally worth it.
Kurt pulled back and dropping his head next to Blaine, fingers curled around Blaine's shoulder as he relaxed. Blaine began to stroke his back, curious as to what had inspired this. Then Kurt was sniffling and nuzzling closer to Blaine, and Blaine's heart clenched. "What's the matter babe?"
He didn't get an answer right away, Kurt making an embarrassed huffing noise. "I'm just really glad you came for me. Blaine -- you didn't see his wardrobe. There were tasseled nipple pasties and G-strings and fringed pants and a whole row of things that I couldn't decide were sex toys or bold new broach styles. It was horrible, like his shopping was done by the stripper child of a glam rocker. I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."
"Don't forget that not-Finn was trying to get into your pants, or the dumpster thing," Blaine said and rather nicely didn't add that he hadn't forgotten because Kurt still stank to high heaven.
Kurt smacked Blaine (not so) lightly. "Thanks. Like my therapist doesn't already have a field day with stories of my boyfriend's delusional tendencies." Kurt's therapist thought Blaine was a future cult leader, and telling her about how examplary he was at Dalton had only led her to believing that the Warblers were brainwashed. (Blaine's therapist found him a charming and engaging young man, but with risk of becoming a serial killer. Blaine didn't much like therapy.)
"Not so delusional anymore, am I?" Blaine asked smugly. "When I publish The Delicate Folds Between Worlds everyone will choose to believe."
"Uh-huh," Kurt replied doubtfully, propping himself up so he could stare down at Blaine. "Now maybe I just have Man Hands on the brain, but that sounds like lesbian erotica."
"Consider it an ode to not-Quinn," Blaine said. "It's that or I Kissed A Doppelganger and I Liked It."
Kurt rolled his eyes, dipping to kiss Blaine again. When they pulled apart again, Kurt's eyes were twinkling above flushed cheeks. "But the subtitle will be But I Like Kissing My Boyfriend More, right?"
"Of course," Blaine said dutifully. "You're always number one in my book." Blaine's little black book, in fact, consisted of only Kurt's number since he had bitterly scratched out Jeremiah's and that cute lifeguard at the community pool who was now, in fact, dating Jeremiah. Blaine had had to resort to swimming in his private pool now due to the sheer awkwardness of that situation.
"You're off the hook, but -- thank you." Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine's for a moment, then rolled over so they were lying side by side on the bed. Their hands naturally found each other, linking together. "For choosing me, for coming to get me, for saving me from that horror show of a closet. Everything, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome," Blaine said softly. "Though I think I've got a lot to be thankful for too." He looked over at Kurt, who was smiling up at the ceiling. Kurt glanced over too, smile widening as he squeezed Blaine's hand. Blaine returned the gesture, heart warm.
"You kids need anything? Some snacks? A condom?" Blaine jumped, looking over to see Burt standing in the doorway, arms crossed and expression amused. Kurt groaned, and Blaine tugged the blanket over his bare chest awkwardly. Burt gave a patented Hummel Look.
"I told you I would snap the disk in two if you ever quoted that movie again," Kurt said, pushing himself up so he could better glare at his dad.
"I have a VHS copy too kid." Burt shared a look with Blaine, who was sympathetic; Kurt's threat was a gross violation of good taste. "Considering me and Carole thought you three were up to something hanky up here, it's a valid question. Finn told us there was 'lots of kissing.'"
"That's right. Finn's been paying us to make out in front of him so he can pick up some tricks that don't involve attacking Rachel ... or Quinn's ... face like it's a half-price burrito." Kurt got up off the bed, tugging at Blaine, who followed.
"That why you kids missed school?" Burt asked, and Blaine froze, sharing a look with Kurt. Uh-oh.
"Would you believe that we were in a parallel universe?" Blaine asked, using his most charming smile on an unaffected Burt, who was probably used to beguiling after being married to Kurt's elf mother. Crap, that's what he had forgotten to check while in the paraverse. He hoped not-Quinn put a rush on that portal-post.
"No. I would believe that you were smoking drugs, with stories like that." Burt shook his head. "We're going to talk about this after dinner, Kurt. It'll give you time to figure out how to argue me down to a week grounding. Until then, come eat. Blaine too. You probably have the munchies anyhow."
"Okay dad."
With that Burt left, and Blaine leant into Kurt. "Your dad is so cool," Blaine said with delight, and Kurt clucked his tongue sharply.
"You're not allowed to tell anyone else that we went to a parallel universe. I've already got an ill-begotten reputation as a lush at school, I don't need my boyfriend becoming a stoner," Kurt sniffed.
"What about my book?" Blaine asked, wounded. "I Kissed a Doppelganger is going to be a bestseller."
"As long as the subsubtitle isn't Based on a True Story," Kurt said. "Then I might consider going out in public with you again."
"So kind," Blaine teased, and Kurt shot him a look.
"As far as I'm concerned, today was a one-off incident that we will avoid mentioning on a daily basis."
"You never know, it could happen again." Blaine grinned. "Imagine everyone's faces if not-Kurt strolled in with his nipple ring and fuck-everyone-sexily attitude?"
"Nipple ring." Kurt repeated grumpily. "They would probably all have spontaneous orgasms on the spot and pass out. Can we go eat?"
Blaine headed for the door, pulling Kurt along gently. He knew he could be oblivious ocasionally but he did get why Kurt was annoyed. "Sure. And that whole, not bringing this up on a daily basis thing works for me." Blaine shot a smile over his shoulder at Kurt.
"Really?" Kurt relaxed. "That's sweet of you."
"Just keeping the magic alive," Blaine said, giving Kurt his most meaningful look as they got to the stairs. Kurt smiled, then frowned.
"Not literal magic, right?"
Blaine remembered the sigils not-Quinn had drawn, the incantations she had muttered. He could name every spell used in Harry Potter and Discworld, so remembering some magience was pie, easy as. Playing around with it would be useful, and it couldn't hurt ...
"Of course not babe," Blaine said. No, it couldn't, as long as he had this, as long as he had his Kurt. "I love you."
"I love you too." Blaine pulled Kurt into a sweet kiss, knowing everything was in its proper place.
end