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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

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Need for Speed:New York - Chapter 2 (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Notes: This was supposed to upload on Saturday, but I need a little positivity today, so I'm indulging. But there will be another chapter up Sat/Sun. Thank you all for your support <3

Read on AO3.

“A new bed, a new dresser, a new desk, a refrigerator … wait. I thought the loft came with a refrigerator?” Blaine said.

“It does, but it’s from the 50s,” Kurt said, racing down the sidewalk to the NYADA main entrance with his phone pressed to his ear. “It’s retro chic, but I worry about its energy efficiency.”

“Do you wanna get rid of it or …?”

“No way! Are you kidding? It’s too trendy to get rid of. We’ll use it as a show piece or something. We just can’t put food in it. Or plug it in.”

“O-kay. You know, it’s a good thing we’re getting such a good deal on this loft seeing as we’re rebuying every piece of furniture we own.”

“Not every piece.”

“Most of them.”

“It’s a good investment. As far as I’m concerned, the furniture we have is full to the brim with bad juju.” Kurt hurried through the double doors as a throng of other students walked out - a group of theater majors so enthralled in a debate over whether Williams, Shaw, or O’Neill were the best playwright of their time, they didn’t see Kurt until they ran into him. “The dresser’s way too small, the couch cushions are flat as pancakes, and the legs of the bed are shot from moving it in and out of the kitchen all summer long.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason our bed’s legs are shot?”

“That’s the one I’m going with while I’m out in public.”

“And I’m guessing an exorcism is out of the question?”

“I’m not too sure the Catholic Church would be eager to help us. Besides, you honestly think that would be cheaper than a trip to IKEA?”

“Hmmm … probably not.”

Kurt sighed, sliding his messenger bag, then his coat, off his shoulders and shaking out the rain. “I’m sorry. Is this too much? I think I kind of jumped into this without consulting you first.”

“No, no! Not at all! I’m not complaining, I swear! I’m just bustin’ your chops. I think it’s adorable. And it’ll probably be cheaper in the long run to buy brand new stuff than to cart our old junk to the new place.”

“Exactly,” Kurt concurred even though that particular argument hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Plus, I fully support any opportunity you find to spread your designing wings. Speaking of, you’re letting me foot the bill for this shopping spree, right?”

“Absolutely not! 50/50. That’s the arrangement.”

“If that’s how you want it, darling. But you know …” Blaine’s voice slid lower and Kurt grinned, knowing that something suggestive was about to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth “… I could pay the bill, and you could work off your half in trade.” He growled, and even though Kurt rolled his eyes, certain parts of his body rose to the occasion.

“You wish,” Kurt said, willing away the erection that sprang up like a Pavlovian dog at Blaine’s growl, which, at any other time, would be followed by his boyfriend on his hands and knees. That was difficult to accomplish from across town. “Come on, let me go! I have to get to my first class. I’m already late enough to not show up!” Damn Jeff and Nick for not coming home last night, Kurt thought as he carefully folded his soaked coat inside out and draped it over his arm. Since their normal five a.m. shenanigans didn’t wake Kurt up, and his alarm never does, he was late getting ready, late for the train, and now, he’s just plain late for the day.

Honestly, that was on him for linking his circadian rhythm to his friends’ sex schedule.

But late for his first class meant his day was shot, so he might as well go home and keep packing, right?

Sounded reasonable to him.

“Alright, alright, alright! Get to class! Do all the things! I’ll see you later this afternoon, and then maybe we could do a little house warming celebrating of our own.” Blaine growled again, and Kurt re-positioned his sopping wet coat over the front of his jeans so as to not to make a scene.

“You order a pizza and I’ll grab a sleeping bag from the apartment on my way over.”

“It’s a date. Bye, darling.”

“Bye.” Kurt hung up the call. He shivered when the doors behind him opened, ushering in a breeze that spiraled through his damp clothes and straight to his bones. He started down the hall, trying to remember whether or not he’d left a change of clothing in his locker in the costume closet. If not, he could always borrow something. What plays were going on right now? Much Ado About Nothing? Waiting for Godot? Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? There had to be a pair of jeans and a semi-fashionable button-down shirt in there that would fit him. Or he could throw caution to the wind and dress up in a brocade vest, a long coat, and pantaloons. With the risky outfits he wore during high school, period dress was something he hadn’t tried. NYADA seemed like the perfect place to explore those vistas in fashion. Maybe he could start a trend. He was interning at Vogue. He needed to do more to stretch boundaries, be bold, start a movement.

Get dry. Because the longer he waited, the tighter his jeans became. They were tight enough as it was. Squishing his junk was not the fashion statement he needed to start today.

A familiar voice stopped him before he could convince himself to go to his second lecture dressed like Benedick … or Beatrice.

Not just stopped but skidded to a halt, nearly rolling his right ankle in the process.

“Hello, gorgeous. I think you forgot your bag.”

“Sebastian?” Kurt spun around. And as implausible as it seemed, Sebastian Smythe was standing behind him, Kurt’s messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He looked dryer than Kurt, so he couldn’t have just gotten there. But why was he there at all? “Oh my God!” Kurt opened his arms and hugged him without giving it a second thought. “We haven’t seen you in forever! I thought you were overseas! What are you doing in New York?”

Sebastian returned the hug single-armed. ““Haven’t you heard? I go here now.”

Kurt stepped out of Sebastian’s embrace so quickly, he almost succeeded in twisting that ankle. “Wait? What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He brought his left arm forward, showing Kurt a stack of books he held clutched in his hand. The top one Kurt recognized right away as Intro to Theater. That happened to be the class he was missing this very moment. The second was A History of Shakespearean Dress Making, the elective Kurt had fourth today, and the third … The Beginner’s Guide to Mime? Kurt didn’t understand. Wasn’t Sebastian attending Oxford or something? Why would he be in New York taking theater, mime, and dress making? It didn’t make sense. “Wha---what, are you … did you really … how in the hell did you …?” Kurt went silent, mouth open as a dozen questions clogged up his throat like rush hour traffic.

He flashed back to his own audition for NYADA – the grueling hour spent in the April Rhodes Auditorium singing his prepared musical theater piece and sight reading another. He had to juggle set design, costume, and choreography all at a professional level to prove that he had what it took to go to this school. Jeff, who auditioned in dance, had to prepare two separate solos – one classical ballet and one hip-hop. At an additional placement interview, Kurt had to prepare another musical theater piece as well as deliver a monologue, and Jeff had to come up with three more dance routines – jazz, interpretive, and contemporary.

Kurt knew that Sebastian had music in his arsenal. He was co-captain of The Warblers at Dalton, but that was show choir. They sang top 40 hits and pulled off some synchronized swaying – nothing to the level of a NYADA audition. Kurt attended the last Warbler concert of their senior year with Blaine. Sebastian had a solo. Kurt remembered thinking he had a decent voice – better than decent, actually.

But that was about it.

Afterwards, at a mixed crew going-away party, Sebastian drank three beers and smoked a joint – something Kurt would never think of doing as a performer. His body was his instrument. He wouldn’t do anything that might put it out of tune.

Going to a school like NYADA wasn’t only about talent. It was about passion and sacrifice. Sebastian never said a word about wanting to join the arts professionally. Was he keeping it a secret – maybe from his dad? Maybe his life was like George the janitor’s and he was waiting for his moment to break free.

Could he have actually made it into NYADA?

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold up!” Sebastian juggled the books in his hand to grab his phone and snap a pic. The flash went off in Kurt’s face, but he didn’t even blink. Sebastian looked at the image on his screen and chortled. “Oh yeah! That's a keeper!”

“I still don’t … I don’t … how did you …?”

“I don’t go here, ya psycho!” Sebastian snorted, setting the books down on a nearby chair. “I came here to see you! The tuition here’s highway robbery, and the audition requirements are insane! You really have to commit yourself to a life of suffering and poverty to want to go here, no offense.”

“None taken, you useless walnut. Then where did you get those?” Kurt pointed at the books.

“I borrowed them from the library. I thought it would give me provenance, help me look the part.”

“A-ha. So you came here looking for me, and when you couldn’t find me, you went to the library and grabbed those books to pretend you go here on the off chance I’d walk through the door and you could pull this elaborate prank on me?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Kurt chuckled. “Yup. I guess it did. You’re one lucky bastard.”

“That, and I ran into Jeff about half an hour ago. He said you’d probably be along soon.”

“He should know. He’s the reason I’m late, the jerk. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in New York?”

“Yeah …” Sebastian glanced down at his feet, worrying the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker “… well, after a few laps around the world, I got bored and decided it was time to settle down for a while. So I thought I’d come back to the states, go to school and finish my degree.”

“What degree?” Kurt asked, deciding he could afford to miss one Intro to Theater class to catch up with an old friend. Besides, this information was bordering on gossip, and Kurt wasn’t one to kick gossip out of bed.

“Originally, I was going to go into law. Become a states’ attorney like my dad. But it seemed empty to me. So I gave it some thought and asked myself – when was the last time I really enjoyed myself? The last time I was really happy? Aside from driving, the answer to that was music. And since I didn’t see myself becoming the next Dale Earnhardt, Jr. …”

“Mmm … probably not …” Kurt teased.

“… I applied to the music therapy program at NYU.”

Kurt’s nose scrunched. “The same program Blaine’s in?”

“Yup.” Sebastian’s eyes sheepishly found his sneaker again. “I’ll admit, I got the idea from his Facebook posts. It looks like something he really enjoys. Something that adds value to his life. That’s something I need more of – value.” He pinched his lower lip between his teeth. “That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it? I mean, I know we all have a past and everything but …”

“But we’ve gotten over it,” Kurt said. “I swear. Color me a little bit shocked, but that’s all. How big of an asshole would I have to be if I said ‘I know you finally found your purpose in life, but you need to give it up and leave’?”

“Pretty big,” Sebastian agreed.

“That doesn’t mean it’s open season on my man or anything.”

“Dammit!” Sebastian snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “I’m heading his way now, and I was hoping for a little bathroom bj action.”

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Nice.”

“I’m kidding! Kidding! Please, don’t hate me … or murder me in my sleep.”

“Hmph! I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian nodded, the last dregs of laughter fading in his throat. “All joking aside, I wanted to connect with you first. I wanted you to hear from me instead of Blaine that I was here.” Sebastian looked Kurt up and down, but not in the way he used to. Not in a way that made Kurt’s skin crawl. This was a different Sebastian Smythe. A new Sebastian Smythe. Kurt hoped this one stuck around for a while. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said, grateful that Sebastian overlooked the drowned rat aesthetic he was still sporting. “So do you.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. You look happier. More ...” The first word that jumped to Kurt’s mind was mature, but he thought that would make him sound conceited “… put together.”

“It helps when you leave drama behind you and get your shit straightened out. Maybe now I can focus on the important things.”

“If you need anything, let us know,” Kurt said, offering Sebastian one last hug.

“I will.” Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt’s torso and gave him a squeeze. He slipped Kurt’s bag over his shoulder, adjusting the curled strap for longer than necessary. “I have to go. Time to head over to NYU and bug your boyfriend.”

“He’ll be at lunch in about an hour. You can catch him at Kimmel Marketplace. Oh, and if you see Nick, do me a favor and punch him in the shoulder for me. I have to hunt down Jeff and do the same.”

“Of course, but why?”

“Oh, they know what they’ve done.”

***

“So, you’re moving, huh?” Green eyes narrowed to judgmental slits, waiting for Blaine to answer.

“Uh … yeah,” Blaine replied, fishing through his bag for his notebook. He was supposed to have three, but he could only find two. He smirked, wondering if Kurt had grabbed it by accident, seeing how distracted he was when he ran out to catch his train this morning.

Blaine felt slightly guilty for that one. Kurt blamed Jeff and Nick’s absence for his lateness.

But Blaine had been doing the distracting.

“And whose idea was that?”

“My boyfriend wanted to move and I thought it was a good idea, so … yeah.” Blaine grunted, pulling out each item one by one and stacking it neatly on the cafeteria table. “That’s pretty much how that went down.”

“I see.” Paul brushed a lock of blond hair out of his face and sipped his coffee, perturbed by this recent development. The apartment Blaine lived in (though Paul had never been there) was only a few subway stops away from NYU. Everything Blaine could ever need was here on campus. Everything. So he didn’t need to move. But apparently that wasn’t Blaine’s decision to make. His boyfriend did. “Where to?”

“A loft out in Bushwick.”

“Bushwick?” Paul’s whole face crumpled in disgust. “Where the hell is Bushwick? It sounds like a slum.”

“It’s in Brooklyn. It’s actually a pretty nice neighborhood.”

“But what about all that travel? It’s still Brooklyn.”

“It’s not that big a deal. Besides, it’s worth it. You should see the place. It’s enormous!”

Paul smiled, the piercings in his dimples mirroring the glint in his eyes. “Is that an invitation?”

“Sure. I guess. I mean, I should step up and host study night now that I have the space. I’m sure Kurt won’t mind. I can probably connive him into making some snacks. He’s an amazing cook.”

“I’ll bet,” Paul said dryly. “You know, the course load only gets harder from here on out, so I hear. You really should consider living closer to campus.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been looking at the classifieds lately, but places near campus cost an arm and a leg. I’d like to keep mine for now. I’m not even in grad school yet,” Blaine said, chuckling at his own joke.

“Maybe you could find someone to bunk with during the week,” Paul suggested, sliding closer while Blaine had his back turned, head deep inside his bag, “and go to your loft on the weekends. I know a couple of guys who do that.” He snapped his fingers as if he just came up with a genius idea. “I have a fold-out couch. You can bunk with me whenever you’re working late, or you’re too tired to ride the subway … or you don’t want to go home.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d miss my boyfriend too much.” Blaine yanked out a handful of letters from Kurt and piled them on top of his text books. Paul watched, his lip curling once he noticed the flowery handwriting. “I can handle the extra commute. I’m a big boy.”

Paul grinned, looking Blaine over behind the safety of Blaine’s back, stopping when his eyes reached his ass. “I’m sure you are.”

“Anderson! Hey, Anderson!”

Blaine grinned to his eyebrows before he looked up. He’d recognize that voice, booming his name, anywhere. He’d heard rumors. He didn’t know if they’d be true.

Apparently, they were.

Walking through the cafeteria crowd came Sebastian Smythe, sauntering toward him, reminiscent of the first day they met in the commons at Dalton.

God! That simultaneously seemed like yesterday and ten years ago. Where had the time gone?

“Are you kidding me? Where in the hell did you come from?” Blaine leapt out of his seat and into Sebastian’s arms. “Last I heard, you were in London? Madrid?”

“Paris,” Sebastian said, lifting Blaine up a foot off the ground just because he could. “I just came from NYADA. Had a little fun scaring the shit out of your man. He said you might be here. Speaking of …” Sebastian’s smile dropped like a lead balloon when he caught sight of the guy with the bottle blond mop and garish crayon red tips glaring daggers at him, as if he and Blaine had been enjoying an intimate lunch and Sebastian was intruding “… who the hell is this?”

“This is Paul Johnson,” Blaine said. “He’s my lab partner this semester.”

Sebastian didn’t offer him a hand. Paul didn’t offer one either.

“Yes,” Paul said, “but we’ve known one another since freshman year, so …” He left it open-ended, as if there were a whole history of him and Blaine understood within the invisible brackets bookmarking that unfinished statement. It was pretentious, and as a once pretentious person himself, it rubbed Sebastian the wrong way.

Blaine, however, didn’t seem to notice.

“Paul Johnson?” Sebastian huffed. “That sounds like a stripper name. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Stripping is a noble profession.”

Paul’s jaw locked tight. Blaine clapped Sebastian on the shoulder.

“Play nice,” he said. “So, what’s up? Did you get your books and shit? Do you know what classes you’re taking?”

“Haven’t got my books yet, dad,” Sebastian teased, “but I have my course list.” He handed Blaine his phone with his schedule listed on the screen. “According to this, I’ve got to get myself one of those …” He gestured dismissively at Paul.

“Too bad you weren’t here a few weeks ago. We could have been partners.”

From the corner of his eye, Sebastian saw Paul grimace.

“Wouldn’t that have been a hoot? Then I could have kept you out of trouble. Now I’ve gotta stalk your ass.” Another glare from Paul, but this time Sebastian matched it and held it, not blinking until Paul backed down … which he did, returning to the task of sulking inside his coffee cup. “Hey, do you happen to know where Nick is?”

“Uh, I think he’s at his internship already. Brown, Smith, Simon, and Kent on 5th Avenue. Why do you ask?”

“I’m supposed to punch him. Per Kurt’s request.” Sebastian pounded his left palm with his right fist and side-eyed Paul. “I could punch you instead. Something tells me Kurt would approve.”

“Ha … ha …” Blaine stepped between Sebastian and Paul and gave his old friend another hug. “It’s good to see you again, man, but unfortunately, we’ve got to get back to work.”

“Yes,” Paul said, his smug smile replacing the perma-glare on his face, “we’ve got to get back to work.”

“And I’ve got to swing by admissions,” Sebastian said, ignoring Paul, “but we’ll get together soon, right?”

“Absolutely! Did Kurt tell you about the new loft?”

“Nah. We only had time for a small make-out sesh. We didn’t get that far.”

Blaine raised an unamused brow. “You’re full of the jokes today, aren’t you?”

“He’s full of something,” Paul grumbled.

“Just excited to be back. And tryin’ to keep you on your toes. I’m harmless ... mostly.” Sebastian bumped the table with his thigh. Paul’s coffee cup tipped, sending him scrambling to catch it before it could fall off the edge.

“Right,” Blaine said, mildly confused. “I’ll shoot you the deets and you can come by for dinner. Otherwise, we’ll see you around campus?”

Sebastian threw a look over his shoulder, and since Paul had been boring holes in his back the whole time, willing him to move the hell on, he was in prime position to catch it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #frankie writes

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bloodymisanthropist · 6 years ago

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Semi-Kuroshitsuji related ask

Feel free to answer any of them. Tag anybody/nobody.

I was tagged by no one.

Regarding Kuroshitsuji…

- How did you find/get into Kuro?

A girl who was in my choir class introduced me to the show and we watched the first episode on her phone. It hadn’t entirely captured my interest at first, until a year or so later one of my Facebook friends shared this amazing gif by madelizabeth;

- What’s your fav/least fave arc or chapter? Why?

I’m not entirely sure what my least favourite chapter is - I have yet to finish the manga, although if I had to pick I suppose I’d say the Easter arc was my least favourite. The storyline just felt a bit forced for me. As of now, my favourite arc I would have to say is the Weston College arc - given the obvious inspiration from Harry Potter, the petty drama, and, seeing as I share the same sense of humour as a 12 year old, there are too many jokes to be made with the word ‘fag.’ And who doesn’t love Sebastian in a position of authority?

- Favorite/least favorite characters?

I consider Ciel and Sebastian to be one unit - they are my 2 favourite characters.

My least favourite character would probably be Ronald - however, it doesn’t stem from a dislike of him, his character simply doesn’t interest me. However I am open to the possibility of his character evolving as the story progresses.

- Favorite piece of art created by Yana Toboso?

I honestly don’t know if I could pick one above all - however, this is one of my favourite pieces;

- How do you think Kuro will end?

I honestly have no idea. I try not to entertain the possibilities too much, as I loathe the thought of having to see it end. I have an idea of how I’d like it to end, although I’m trying not to set myself up for disappointment.

- Manga/anime/musical/etc. Which is your favorite?

I can’t say I’m informed enough to formulate an opinion, again, seeing as I have yet to catch up on the manga. However, as far as the latest adaptations of the Book of Circus/Murder/Atlantic arcs go I’d have to say I liked the anime better - simply because I find them more engaging and easier to follow.

- What would you love to see Kuro do a crossover with?

I had always wondered what it would be like if they were to do a crossover with Penny Dreadful.

- General thoughts/feelings about Kuroshitsuji.

I have endless amounts of respect for Yana Toboso. In my opinion, Kuroshitsuji is the most revolutionary story of all time.

Regarding the fandom…

- How long have you been apart of the fandom?

Almost 3 years now.

- Has it been a worthwhile or regrettable experience? Why?

I wouldn’t trade it for the world - while it hasn’t all been perfect, and can be emotionally taxing at times, it helped to influence my own personal growth, and helps fill my days.

- Best experience so far?

All I can say is that it’s helped to bring my current friends and I together, and for that I’m grateful.

- Things you wish there was more of in the fandom?

Interesting - I’d have to say I wish there was more objectivity, and more of a tolerance to let people enjoy things so long as they aren’t hurting others.

- General thoughts/feelings about the fandom.

There are a few special gems hidden here and there, but only after filtering out so much bullshit.

.- What about Kuro inspires you the most?

To quote @t-stray , seeing as I couldn’t have said it better myself: “The aesthetic of transgression of established morality and status quo- Contemplating that a society and its morals are much more than black and white and go beyond what meets the eye.”

- Who are your OTPs/nOTPs? Other noteable pairings?

Sebaciel is my otp. I also support Grelliam and Grell/Ronald. I appreciate Ciel and Lizzy’s relationship, but only see them in a platonic light - anything more is a no from me.

- What’s your favorite AU?

Again, it’s impossible to pick, but I would say this is up there; https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939424

- Do you have an AU? Tell us about it!

No, although I would like to see a riveting Kuroshitsuji/Red Riding Hood adaptation.

- Which character do you relate to most? Why?

I relate to Ciel the most. He doesn’t care about being “good,” he simply desires revenge and isn’t ashamed to admit it. He’s built a hard shell around himself as a result of his trauma, and is incredible at internalizing and compartmentalizing his emotions. He will go to the ends of the earth, and sometimes hurt those he cares about, in the process of working towards his goals. All of this I resonate with.

- What are you working on now?

I’ve been wanting to complete a passion project that has been in the works for a while now - I’d like to become confident enough in my editing to start a Kuroshitsuji-themed MEP-reminiscent music video channel.

- If you’re a digital artist, which programs do you use?

Paint Tool Sai and Photoshop.

More fun non-Kuro things….

- What’s the story behind your url?

I never want to be forgotten by the people in my life, past and present. Even if our relationship should have a bitter end, I want them to forever hold on to our memories.

- Any pets? Pics pls?

My dog Mishka;

My cats, Samhain and Isis (named after the Egyptian goddess, not a fucking terrorist organisation - I’ve been forced to make this clarification before);