#i have such a vision of sam and mercedes soaked to the bone and dancing through the streets of Lima like om

[katyobsesses]

Fearless - for @gleedrabbleblog week 23

Rain pounded against the pavement - thunder rumbling, lightning flashing - and their laughter echoed through the deserted streets, creating music they couldn't help but dance to. The storm had caught them unaware, soaking through Mercedes' best dress, but she didn't care. In that moment - running, dancing, hand in hand with Sam Evans - everything melted away, all worries and fears disappeared. Finally under the cover of her front porch she shook, nerves returning as the rain soaked chill settled into her bones. But then Sam grinned down at her before pulling her in, smile meeting smile, and she felt fearless once more.

based on Fearless by Taylor Swift 💛

[hippohead]

Happy New Year

Pairing: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Rating: General Audiences Words: 2071 Summery: This is a Halloween fic. I promise.

Read it on AO3

- - - - -

The thing about being Rachel Berry’s best friend is, it’s a learned skill.  

And Kurt had put in the work. He had looked past the diva-esque antics and the obnoxious Broadway tunnel-vision and the steamrolling, and underneath he had found the Rachel that he loved. The Rachel who would bring him a cup of tea when she knew he was feeling down; the Rachel who pushed Kurt more than he wanted her to but knew he needed it; the Rachel who was kindness and cared – a lot. And it was worth it, for the most part, to have learnt the skill and to have let her into so many parts of himself.

Except for when it wasn’t.

“You’re being pushy,” he warns, and he knows his tone is sharp enough that it would stop most people. Rachel isn’t most people.

“Kurt,” she says just as sternly, swinging around the doorframe of the bathroom so that she can look at him while she continues her delusional lecture, “I just think it’s time that you admitted it.”

He adjusts his cat ears because they’re already giving him a headache. He knows he should have thought of a more original costume idea but time means nothing when he’s juggling NYADA and exams and showcases and auditions and the diner and friends and- god, he’s exhausted just thinking about it all. If all he could pull together for tonight was a pair of black jeans, a tight black long-sleeve, and a pair of cat ears – well, he thinks that’s quite reasonable considering. “There’s nothing to admit.”

Rachel steps out of the bathroom fully now, her makeup finished and her bob wig firmly in place. “How do I look?”

Kurt breathes a small sigh of relief at the change in topic, finally. “You look like the perfect Fanny Brice.” And she does, but the snarky part of him wants to note that she also could have been a bit more original with her outfit. Rachel dressing as Fanny for a costume party? Groundbreaking.

She walks past him, almost dancing, and sings, “That’s because I am the perfect Fanny Brice.”

Kurt sips at the cider that some of Rachel’s older friends from NYADA had left at the loft after their last party and waits for her to come back from her bedroom. By the time she does – a small purse looking like it’s stuffed with emergency night-out supplies slung over her shoulder – he's already feeling a light buzz twirling through his bones. “What time are the others getting here?”  

Rachel checks her phone, “Any minute now.” And then, because she’s the worst and unrelenting and incapable of letting anything go, she says, “I think you should tell Blaine that you have feelings for him tonight.”

“Oh my god, Rachel. I do not have feelings for Blaine.”

It’s the easiest lie when he’s saying it to Rachel, because it usually gets her off his back for a little while. There’s something complicated about the lie when he tries to convince himself. And it’s a lie he’d never say in front of Blaine, because saying it in front of Blaine means removing the maybe in their friendship. It would be Kurt clarifying boundaries he doesn’t want and making a possibility disappear that he always wants there.

And so he doesn’t know who he’s pissed off – karma or fate or the stars or whoever it is that controls the strings and the moments and time – because Blaine, Sam and Mercedes have pulled the door open to the loft just in time to catch his last sentence.

His back is to them but he heard the slide, and he glares at a very guilty, meek-looking Rachel. She bites her lips as if that’s an apology and then clears her throat, “Hey, guys!”

“Hey!”  

Kurt turns around at Mercedes’ voice, and her eyes are big and wild and trying to communicate things with him that he doesn’t have the ability to decipher right now. She’s dressed as Christina from the Candyman music video, and she’s pulling it off effortlessly. He wants to tell her that but the air feels too weird to speak into. Sam is dressed as some Star Wars character he doesn’t know the name of and Blaine-

“Are you... a pumpkin?”

There’s an odd look on Blaine’s face and Kurt can’t figure it out. He lifts his eyes once he realises that Kurt’s question is obviously directed at him - the only one dressed as a pumpkin - and nods, “Yeah. I am.”

Well, it’s good to know that Blaine can be dressed as a pumpkin and still look adorable. It’s desperately unfair, really. Almost as unfair as the fact that Blaine just heard him rather decisively utter the words, I do not have feelings for Blaine.

Sam clears his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence that’s settled over everyone. “Should we get going? We’re already going to be late getting to Elliott’s.”

It’s enough to remind everyone that they’re close friends and long past the point of standing in awkward silences, so they bundle up in coats and make their way towards the subway station.  

Rachel finds a moment to whisper a quiet, “Sorry,” in his ear once they're on the train. He wants to question her about it – if he was telling her the truth, then there would be no need for an apology. Blaine hearing him say those words wouldn’t be an issue. He wishes she’d just believe him, for once, but then he glances over at Blaine laughing at an impression Sam is doing, a smile growing on his face despite himself, and he realises how transparent he is.

Why doesn’t Blaine?

- - - - -

Kurt is definitely avoiding him.  

He’s actually a little impressed. Elliott’s place is on the smaller side, so there’s not a lot of places for Kurt to be where Blaine isn’t. Yet he’s somehow managing to pick the perfect moment to slip to the bathroom, or to claim he needs a little air, or to gesture wildly at his empty cup as he starts to weave his way to the drinks.  

“What’s up with Hummel?”  

It’s Santana. She’s dressed as Xena Warrior Princess and he’d questioned her about it when they’d arrived – it didn’t seem like her kind of thing, or too stereotypical for her to buy into. She’d set him with an unimpressed stare and said, “It’s Lucy Lawless wandering around with her wife and beating up mediocre men. What about that isn’t my thing?” And, well, fair enough.

“I don’t know,” but he does know. “I think I’ll go see if he’s okay.”

Santana just shrugs, as if her initial question was as far as her concern was going to go, and Blaine starts to move through all of the capes and bright colours and masks. There’s a part of him that doesn’t really want to find him. That means saying things like It’s okay that you don’t have feelings for me and Just your friendship is enough and Let’s just forget about it. The reality is that he wants more than a friendship, but he doesn't know how to risk the friendship to get to somewhere else. And this, this is why he thought they had an unspoken agreement to never clarify what was happening. Because at least if they were living in a limbo that felt sort of hopeful and perfect, the door was closed but not locked.  

Tonight, Kurt had keys and he used them.  

He finds him in the kitchen by himself, nursing a gin and tonic. “Kurt?”

“Oh.” He looks a little scattered and – weary? “Blaine. Hi.”

It sort of hurts, the way he says that, like he wishes Blaine wasn’t there or looking for him or near him. Kurt’s never sounded like that before. “Can we- can we talk about before?”

He sees the panic move through Kurt’s eyes and almost backtracks, but he can’t do this; can’t exist in the world with things being awkward between them. And he can’t even really understand why they’re awkward. There’s so much unpacking to do about that, but for now he just wants to reassure Kurt.  

“Okay.”

It’s a small reply but it’s enough for Blaine. “I don’t really know why things have been a little weird, but I just want to- I don’t know, I guess. Figure out if we’re okay.”  

“I lied.”

He’s suddenly very aware of his heart and that it’s in his chest, beating, faster than usual. “What do you mean?”

“I lied to Rachel.”  

There’s some sort of plea in his rushed words, like he wants Blaine to hurry up and understand and put him out of his misery. So Blaine tries to hurry up and understand and - "Oh.”  

“Yeah, oh.” Kurt deflates a little and looks down into his drink, “I’m sorry I’m being weird and all over the place. I’ve been trying so hard to be careful with our friendship, and now I’ve just ruined it.” And then, because Blaine still hasn’t said anything and the silence is stretching out in a suffocating way, Kurt says, “Gin makes me sad.”

“I’d be lying, too,” because he’s finally remembered how to speak.  

Kurt squints at him, “What do you-”

“If I said I didn’t have feelings for you.”

It takes a moment, but the smile spreads onto Kurt’s face and it’s delicious and adorable and they’re both just standing in the kitchen, looking goofy and happy and risking it all.  

“That’s a very stupid and roundabout way of saying- well, I really like you, Kurt.”

Kurt puts his glass down but doesn’t make a move towards Blaine just yet. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot.”  

Blaine hums and lets that soak past his ridiculous pumpkin costume – he’s still not entirely convinced that orange is his colour despite Sam’s constant reassurances that it is – and into his skin, bones, being. He decides to be the one to close the gap a bit, moving towards Kurt and enjoying how heavy the air is, how he almost has to wade through it.  

“Can I kiss you at midnight?” he asks.

Kurt giggles and it’s silly and Blaine wants to hear it again, and again, and again. “It’s Halloween, Blaine.”

“Mm,” he murmurs, not really sure why Kurt’s clarifying that. They’re both in costumes and there are fake cobwebs covering every surface – of course it’s Halloween. He starts to fiddle with Kurt’s cat ears, “It is.”

“Kissing at midnight is a New Year's Eve tradition.”

“Oh?” and he knows that somewhere in his brain, but he feels like he deserves to be forgiven for forgetting the specific details of which tradition belongs to which holiday because Kurt is very, very close to him and his eyes are sparkling and all he wants to do is kiss him. And so he does, or tries to-

“Wait!”  

Blaine pauses, confusion riddling his eyes because were they not on the same page? But Kurt doesn’t move away. Instead, he keeps them in their tight spot together and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Blaine can’t really see it and he tries to ask what Kurt is doing, but he just gets nicely shushed.  

And then, triumphantly, Kurt holds his phone up to show Blaine what he was waiting for – the clock in the corner of the screen clicks over to 12:00 and Blaine gets it. Now he kisses him. It starts off sweet and he tastes like Halloween candy. He’s already addicted to the sugar and he starts to lick along his bottom lip. Kurt gasps a little, opening his mouth for Blaine, and that’s when their bodies shift, too. Kurt’s back is pushing into the bench and he’s trying to worry about whether or not he’s hurting him, but Kurt is somehow getting his hands under the pumpkin’s fabric and sliding at the skin on the small of his back. He’s struggling to find that compassion now when all that matters is kissing Kurt, Kurt's back be damned.

And then suddenly he’s not kissing Kurt.  

Because Kurt has pulled away to drag in a breath and there’s an impossible grin on his face and a depth in his eyes that wasn’t there before and it means more, more, more. “Happy New Year, Blaine.”

“Happy New Year, Kurt,” he repeats. And then he laughs because he thinks they’ve just made their own holiday tradition, “Happy Halloween.”