#kurtoberfest

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot “Standing on the Brink” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt and Sebastian go to their special spot on the beach one last time to watch a once-in-a-lifetime event. (1687 words)

Notes: Written for the @kurtoberfest prompt ‘Apocalypse’ and inspired by a scene from the movie “Deep Impact” (though I would ask that if you haven’t watched that movie that you read this first so nothing is given away). I am re-writing this for another pairing and thought to freshen this one up a bit and repost it :) Warning for themes consistent with the end of the world - angst, anxiety, etc.

Read on AO3.

“Come on, Kurt!” Sebastian calls. “You’re going to make us late!”

Kurt ignores him, obsessively double-checking the door, pulling on the knob to make sure it’s locked up tight. Kurt takes a step back towards the stairs, then changes his mind and reaches for the knob again. He's reminded of the first night they spent at the beach house. They had just closed escrow, and Kurt couldn’t believe it was really theirs. They didn’t have a lick of furniture in the place and the electricity needed to be switched on. They had no clean water, which forced them to buy gallon bottles from a market a mile down the road, but Kurt insisted they spend the night. And Sebastian caved.

It helped that there was a Hilton nearby in case they absolutely couldn’t hack it.

Kurt had always wanted a beach house. It was one of his lifelong dreams. He’d even put it on his bucket list. Theirs wasn’t one of the biggest or more stylish houses on this stretch of the Atlantic Coast, but that didn’t matter. It was the first thing they bought together – not something Sebastian simply bought for him.

If Kurt stands quietly, he can pretend he’s back there, with his hand on the doorknob, waiting for that first twist, ready for an adventure to begin.

Not waiting to see one end.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering with the locks, babe,” Sebastian says, changing the scenery with those few words. “We’re not coming back.”

Kurt drops his head, his hand holding firm to the doorknob, reluctant to let go.

“But … but what if they’re wrong?” Kurt reasons, his eyes shut, blocking out the light growing at his back.

Sebastian glances up at the comet streaking across the sky – a ball of blinding white lighting up the night. He smiles, amused at how hard Kurt is trying to ignore the inevitable. 

But can Sebastian really blame him?

“Pretty sure they’re not wrong, babe.”

Kurt nods, eyes still squeezed shut. Sebastian climbs the steps to the porch. He puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and massages gently. Kurt lets go of the doorknob to take it.

“I wanted to hide under the covers,” Kurt says, wiping a tear from his cheek. “I wanted to make love until we fell asleep in each other's arms. I wanted to be blissfully unconscious when it all ended. No fear. No pain. Just us and our dreams, with hope for tomorrow. Isn’t that how you’d rather tonight be?”

“I thought I did. But this is the end of the world, babe. Literally, a once-in-a-lifetime event!” Sebastian tugs Kurt’s hand, leading him off the porch and away from their sanctuary. “Don’t you want a front-row seat for the show?”

“Not particularly, no.” Kurt clutches hard to his bitterness so he doesn’t break down.

“The weather guy on channel three says it’s going to be spectacular. The sky is clear. There’s not going to be a single cloud to obscure …”

“Jesus Christ! This isn’t a fucking meteor shower, Sebastian!” Kurt snaps, pulling his hand out of Sebastian’s grasp and wrapping his arms around himself. He needs this! Not an asshole fiance morbidly excited to watch the world end! He needs to be held! And if Sebastian isn’t going to do it, then Kurt is going to have to. But no matter how tight he holds himself, he can’t stop shaking.

“I know,” Sebastian says quietly, stopping in the path to take Kurt in his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to … this is how I deal with the heavy stuff.”

“I know.” Kurt leans his forehead against Sebastian’s shoulder. “It just … makes me think about all the stuff we didn’t do yet. The stuff we'll never do.”

“Like what?” Sebastian gives Kurt a second, but they’re running out of time. There’s someplace they both decided to be when that comet hits – the spot of their first kiss. And if they don’t keep walking now, they’ll never make it. This isn’t on Kurt’s bucket list – watch the world end from their special spot on the beach. But it’s the last thing they’re ever going to get to cross off. 

They had better make it.

“Like what?” Sebastian repeats when Kurt doesn’t answer, pulling at his hand to get him walking again.

Kurt starts moving, a sob lodging in his throat. “L-like make a Baked Alaska."

Sebastian squeezes Kurt’s hand. It’s such a simple thing, but it’s so like Kurt.

“I never took that zero-gravity flight I was planning,” Sebastian adds.

“You didn’t help me join the mile high club.” Kurt chuckles, gazing off at the water in the direction they’re headed.

“We should have made love on the Cliffs of Dover,” Sebastian says with a sigh.

Kurt turns from the water, reflecting the comet like a second sunrise, and looks at Sebastian.

“But … we did that,” Kurt reminds him, pulling closer as the wind picks up unexpectedly, the ball of light in the sky moving steadily lower.

“I know.” Sebastian wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulders, rubbing his arm to chase the chill from his body. “I wanted to do that again. It was amazing.”

Kurt laughs, and Sebastian joins in. They casually recount the memory of that vacation to England, how they froze their asses off in an attempt at being wild and spontaneous, ending with Sebastian getting bitten on the ass by a sheep. But as soon as they reach the crest of the sand dunes and see the beach glowing with an unearthly light, they fall into a solemn silence. 

They follow a well-worn path down the beach with the sound of fire in their ears - a distant snapping and popping like a fireplace burning in another room.

Like the fireplace back in the living room of their beach house, where they so often sat and slept and made love.

The comet has nearly reached the water when they come to a stop, far enough from the coastline that the encroaching tide retreats long before it ever reaches their feet.

Kurt turns to face Sebastian, half his face in shadow, the other half lit so brightly he looks ten years younger – the same age they were on the day they first met.

“If you had it all to do again,” Kurt asks, “would you …?”

Sebastian nods before Kurt has the chance to finish. “I’d do it the same way. Every bit of it. The good and the bad."

"Really," Kurt says dryly. "So ... the insults, the blackmail, the trying to steal my boyfriend every five seconds - you'd keep all that in if we got to live life over again?"

"Yes," Sebastian replies, nodding emphatically.

"Dare I ask why?"

"Because it led us here," Sebastian says, frowning after the words leave his mouth. "Not the-end-of-the-world here. I think we can both agree that we could do without. But it brought us together. Made us into a couple that loves one another, heart and soul. I wouldn't want to chance doing anything that might mess that up. Because now that I know what life is like with you ... I can't imagine living life without you."

"I guess that makes sense," Kurt says.

"And you?” Sebastian asks.

Kurt gazes at Sebastian thoughtfully, then bursts out in nervous laughter.

“Oh, God, no!” Kurt laughs harder when Sebastian’s sentimental smile falls. “I wouldn't change anything huge. I just mean I would have told you off way more. I would have sprayed you with cologne every time I saw you to cover up that foul stink you were addicted to. I would have gotten you drunk and done something about your awful hair ...”

“Nice, Kurt.” Sebastian huffs. "Real …”

Kurt’s lips kissing his shut Sebastian up. Kurt aims for fun, light, carefree with this kiss. He doesn’t want this kiss to be significant in any way. He wants it to feel like any other kiss. But it can’t be helped. There are forces beyond their control moving things along quicker with every passing second. Kurt might want this to feel like any other kiss, but what it really feels like is their last.

“I would have told you I loved you,” Kurt says, putting a hand to Sebastian’s cheek, “much, much sooner.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, leaning in to Kurt’s touch. “I would have done that, too.”

The comet streaking across the sky finally hits the water, further out than it appears from the beach. A ripple of energy spreads down the horizon, pushing Kurt and Sebastian back a few feet, almost knocking them to the sand, followed by a boom so loud it makes Kurt’s ears ring. A flash of white floods the sky. The ground beneath their feet quakes. The Atlantic sweeps out, sucked so far back that what was once miles of water is now miles of sand. 

And somewhere on the other side of the world, a wall of water rises.

“Sebastian!” Kurt yells over the ringing in his ears, his voice shaking. “This isn’t right! Your family … you had a bunker. You had … you had a seat on the plane to the fallout shelter at Greenbrier! With the President, for fuck’s sake!”

Sebastian shakes his head. “They wouldn’t take you. We tried …”

“You ...” Kurt’s eyes dart to the water rising higher and higher as it rushes to the shore “... you shouldn’t be here!”

Sebastian wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist. He puts a finger beneath Kurt’s chin, bringing his attention back from the vision of death racing towards them and up to his eyes.

“Kurt …” Sebastian pauses a second. He wants to remember this image of Kurt – his fiery-tempered, excessively talented, singularly gorgeous fiancé - at this moment, bathed in pure white light, for as long as it lasts. “I’m right where I want to be.”

Kurt shakes his head weakly. “Sebastian, I’m …”

Sebastian’s arm tightens around Kurt’s waist. Before Kurt can finish his apology, their lips touch ...

... and the wave hits.

[pixiealtaira]

Clued In

Kurtoberfest prompt three: werewolves

written in 2018 but not finished until December...when I got tired of Christmas prompts and my brain cried.

Pairing: Klaine BUT NOT Blaine or Klaine friendly.  Moving towards Sam and Kurt.

Kurt Hummel was sitting on a hay bale, lost.  And very upset.

He should have just outright refused when Blaine suggested they all head out to the corn maze north of Westerville and meet up with some of the guys from Dalton.  Rachel of course took him up on it when Blaine told her it would be  a great opportunity to spy on the Warblers and the rest fell into line when Rachel declared it a ‘chance of a lifetime’ and ‘fun to boot’.  Most were feeling sorry for her after she got banned from singing in sectionals after the whole ballot box thing…and those who didn’t give in for that reason and spying on the Warblers gave in so Sam could have a fun activity to welcome him back.

Corn mazes are dusty and itchy after all.   He could have refused. It was after Halloween…he just should have insisted that the season for corn mazes was passed. Rachel would have tossed a fit and Blaine would have been mad but no one else would have batted an eye.

But he didn’t.

And he should have put his foot down when Blaine decided they should spilt up into small groups that were mixed between the schools and that he would hang with Sebastian and Thad and some of the kids Sebastian wanted for the Warblers…all under the guise of being there to give his opinion of the potential new Warblers. And Kurt didn’t put up a fuss when Blaine told Kurt he should just stick with Santana and Brittany, who Blaine didn’t trust with any Dalton boys…and who ditched Kurt within three turns of stepping into the maze…without question cards so Kurt had no hints at all which turn to take at which turning point.

But he didn’t.

So he had no one with him when he turned the corner three turns and four long straight paths back and walked into Blaine and Sebastian rolling in the hay…both figuratively and literally. No one to see Sebastian’s triumphant smirk…or hear Blaine tell Sebastian that this was more fun than last time…or witness the multitude of love bites covering Blaine’s exposed body, several which were not new. So there would be no one to believe him…he was sure.

On the good note, no one was there to see Kurt’s tears or hear him sob as he lay on the hale bale where he’d finally stopped running from the sight.  And there didn’t seem to be anyone around to hear him scream either. Well, call out anyway…he hadn’t resorted to screaming quite yet. Except for the one he’d released in anger and frustration and fury about Blaine.

The hay bale was at a spot where it was a four way intersection, so Kurt figured he was bound to see someone sooner rather than later.  He was perched under the sign with the werewolf instead of the sign with the zombie.  They were bound to mean something if he had the code cards…but he didn’t, so they didn’t.

He called out again, just shouting “hello….anyone nearby?” into the void, and mentally berated himself once again for leaving his cellphone in his car like Blaine insisted.

He didn’t get an answer. He considered getting up and trying to find his way out…again.  Standing on the hay bale had not helped at all, so figuring out his way out would be a massive bunch of guesses.  Then he remembered his dad’s rules of wilderness interaction…which he decided this decidedly was. One of those rules…stay you ass put if you are lost.

Kurt sighed. He’d give staying put twenty minutes.  The corn maze was only so big…he could stay lost but if he didn’t come home his dad would call and if TONS of people came out to hunt the corn maze he’d surely be found even if he did move. However twenty minutes was a LONG time to be bored.

The first thing he tried he figured was a two prong attack on bored and being lost.  Rachel always seemed to show up when he sang songs that were ‘hers’…so he started with Defying Gravity…complete with the high notes he blew to keep peace.  It didn’t bring Rachel storming into the intersection, but he was rather proud of himself.  He moved on to On My Own from Les Mis and On My Own from Fame, the theme song from Fame, and then I Dreamed a Dream.

Rachel didn’t come storming to get him, however…he was enjoying the whole singing loudly and fully without anyone telling him to hush.  There wasn’t anyone commenting on his voice, or his songs choices…or telling him he had to sing just one certain way.

So…Kurt decided to sing things he knew no one would accept from him and so he never even considered singing during glee club.  He sang Loch Lomond and Danny Boy.  He sang How Great Thou Art and Amazing Grace…(and fully expected Quinn or Mercedes to show up and accuse him of believing in God…which he didn’t, but he liked the songs)…and Come Thou Fount and The Prayer.  Then Kurt turned to those songs he knew would really have ...shocked… the others.  He started with Ring Of Fire…safe enough choice.  Kurt moved into Fishin’ In the Dark and Friends With Tractors.  He was just starting into Achy Breaky Heart when Sam came dashing down from the side that zombie sign was placed towards.

“I thought it was you…but Artie told me it was impossible, because you didn’t know songs like the ones we kept hearing.” Sam exclaimed.

“Can you get us out of here?” Kurt asked.

“I can get us back to Artie, and then I think between the three of us we can get out of here.”

“Good…I’m done with this. Oh, I’m also done with Blaine.”

“Done with Blaine?” Sam asked, making sure Kurt was following him towards where he’d left Artie.

“Breaking up with him done. I will not tolerate cheating, especially when one is uncouth enough to literally roll in the hay…in public…where children could have seen.”

“He did what?” Sam shouted.

“Who did what?” Artie shouted.

Kurt followed Sam around the bend at the end of the straight run…the bend towards the Werewolf.

“That was Kurt!?” Artie yelled again.

“I told you it was Kurt. Blaine did a what…so Kurt is breaking up with him.” Sam said.

“But Kurt sings Madonna and Lady Gaga and Broadway.  Kurt doesn’t sing country.” Artie said.

“I sing pretty much everything…no one ever asks. Everyone set me in a box by day two of glee club and never let me out of it. Blaine cheated…enough said. I cried already…then I sat on an itchy hay bale for too long and now I’m mad...and itchy.  And done with this place. Do you have the damn clue cards?”

“Yep. This junction’s question is…Remus Lupin is a ….go right for Werewolf or left for Zombie.”

It took them ten minutes to complete the corn maze…with Artie surprised Kurt knew the Zombie question’s answers even when they were too obscure for him and Sam.

“So…Zombies and Country Music…” Artie asked as they relaxed next to the snack shack by the parking lot.

“I had a zombie phase in 8th grade and county music is one of the top music choices at the garage.  I also sing some mean Dixie Chicks.” Kurt said. “When can we head home?”

Sam laughed. “When everyone else exits the maze.”

Kurt sighed. “I’m pretty certain I’m developing a rash. Cover-up will not conquer hives.”

Artie laughed. “And he’s back.”

Kurt stuck his tongue out at Artie and the conversation turned to the Muppet Show, of all things.

The others started trickling out of the maze in twos and threes and then about half the others who’d run into each other at one point and then figured the more the better. Artie left to hang with Puck and Mike when they got out.

Kurt scratched at his arms and legs and back.  Blaine and Sebastian and none of the kids who’d gone into the maze with them were out yet, nor was Finn and Rachel or Santana and Brittany.  Quinn was surrounded by Dalton boys who were hanging onto her every word and Tina was by Artie and Mike and Puck.

Sam stuck by Kurt.

“We could just leave them here.  Especially Blaine and Sebastian.  I was so upset I threw myself onto that damned hay bale and cried on it…and then sat on it because in running from them I got lost and now I’m going to be one huge mass of rash.   So we could just leave them here…and they could suffer.  And they probably won’t, I mean even though they were near naked on the damn things I bet neither gets a rash…just me…heartbreak and rash.  I hate corn mazes.  And hay.  And I can see pumpkins so I’m even finding myself feeling negative about them…and I love pumpkins.”

Sam pulled Kurt’s hand off his arm…where he was scratching.  He took Kurt’s hand in his and just held it.

Kurt stilled and looked at Sam. “If someone sees they might get the wrong impression.” Kurt whispered.

Sam smiled. “I doubt it.”

“Finn will…” Kurt whispered even softer.

“He could, but right now you need a friend and you need to not scratch.  This gives you both.  I don’t care what Finn thinks…or anyone else. I’d offer a hug but it might make you even more miserable.”

Kurt chuckled. “Probably would.  Last time I got like this I had to wear soft worn cotton for a week and a half…and I have just one t-shirt and one pair of lounge pants that will work right now.”

“Was it the hay bales last time?” Sam asked.

“No, it was the actually grass type last time…in some field. It was on a field trip when I was seven. I’ve been on hay bales since and not had any reaction, but those were mostly alfalfa.  These must not be mostly alfalfa, but have grass I was irritated by in them.” Kurt sighed.

“You aren’t going to be able to drive home…I could drive for you.” Sam said.

Kurt smiled at him. “I wouldn’t mind that.  Finn can’t drive my baby. He’s not allowed.  I don’t trust him at all behind the wheel.”

Sam laughed. “I don’t blame you.  I fear my life half the time when he drives.  Who all did you drive here?”

“Blaine.”

“That was it?” Kurt nodded.

“Does Blaine have his phone on him?” Sam asked.

“He took it with him.”

“Text him that you are heading home and he needs to catch a ride with someone else.  I’ll call Finn and tell him Blaine needs a ride home and that we are leaving now.  And I’m going to run over and tell Mike. Blaine should be covered with all that.”

“See the blond boy over by Quinn.  Tell him as well, he’ll make sure Blaine gets home.  Tell him I’m having a reaction to something and have to go.”

Sam took off to talk to Mike and Jeff.   Kurt headed to his SUV.  He fetched his phone and texted Blaine. He also texted Rachel…and Quinn. The message was simple. ”Bad reaction to something in hay.  Need to go home.  Sam is going to drive me. Blaine needs to find his own way home.”

Kurt reached behind the driver’s seat and found his ‘emergency’ box.  He fetched the mittens from inside.  Sam couldn’t drive and hold his hand after all.

Sam was running towards the SUV he turned to head over to the passenger side.

“Done.  Finn answered his phone, too…so the message was spoken to him.  Are you wearing mittens?” Sam asked.

Kurt nodded. “You can’t exactly hold my hand while driving.”

Sam smiled.  “I could try, but that perhaps is for some other time. Climb in and lets head out. Oh, call your dad so he knows, right?”

Kurt called his dad as soon as he was settled.

He scratched the whole time he was on the phone.  He even tried to scratch at his arms and side using the hand holding his phone.

The moment he finished talking to his dad, Sam held his hand out for the phone, which he then tucked into the driver’s side door pocket.  “Choose a radio station you can listen to the whole drive and then mittens on.”

Kurt sighed and nodded. He pushed on of the preset station buttons and oldies filled the air.

Sam smiled.

The next few hours were filled with singing along with the Everly Brothers and Elvis and to songs like Teen Angel and Leader of the Pack.  Kurt asked about Sam’s family and Sam listened as Kurt voiced his worries over everything from NYADA and having enough on his application to Blaine and why he wasn’t enough.  And Kurt listened to Sam’s worries about his family’s finances without him there to help and his worries about his studies and the difficulties his dyslexia was causing. Sam convinced Kurt to apply to other schools and to apply in multiple disciplines.  Kurt told Sam he would start tutoring him and they’d tackle finding some other help for his dyslexia as well.

And Sam talked about his love life…or lack of…and who he had dated while in Kentucky and the messy break-up right before he came back to Lima…and Tennessee before his first move to Lima. And how it wasn’t always a girl he dated, but the treatment of people had terrified him when he first got to Lima, so he stayed quiet.  But that was why Kurt hadn’t upset him or made him uncomfortable when Kurt tried to get him to sing for the Duets competition. And Kurt spoke about how Blaine’s actions had hurt and why…and the episode in the Scandals parking lot and giving in to try to keep Blaine.

“We should hang out together for a while and avoid dating.  People come up to us and say…you should start dating again, we should commit to saying ‘no not right now’ and back each other up.  I have no need for a girlfriend that will cheat on me again and you have no need for a boyfriend who will cheat on you.  I think hanging out and doing things with each other will give us a better chance as staying single.” Sam said. “We will recover from the ridiculousness our last relationships were…allow ourselves to mend from the abusiveness of them...because I think both our last relationship were probably abusive.  I mean I’d call what you went through abusive and manipulative.”

“And yours was just as bad, if not worse.  I think it was creepy how people let a girl play those games.  Who sits by and watches as someone tells another youngster that if they break-up with her she’ll kill herself and it will be there fault?”

“The youth pastor.  I think his response when my mother got upset after I told her what was going on and how he told me I couldn’t hurt a girl by breaking her heart like I was by breaking up with her was what made it so my mom was fine with my leaving Kentucky.  As far as I know she hasn’t even tried to kill herself…she just talks it when a guy she doesn’t want to break-up with yet breaks it off. But I couldn’t stand it anymore…she was trying to get me to drop art club because there were girls in the club and I might talk to them.  She complained about me spending time with Stacie.”

Kurt shuddered.

Sam noticed and looked at Kurt. “That is how I felt when you told me about Blaine and his behavior at Scandals. And then I thought I should have probably told you about his behavior at Dalton after you left, but it was always while they were drunk and I thought maybe you just knew how he got.”

Kurt shook his head. “No…I didn’t even know they partied like that until becoming friends with Jeff on Facebook. I seriously thought that thing at Rachel’s was Blaine’s first party with alcohol.  I should have realized it wasn’t when he drank so much but didn’t pass out completely until we got to our place.  He almost matched Santana drink for drink.  I think your idea has merit, but I warn you…just because I’m not being tossed in the dumpsters or pushed into lockers as much anymore, things still aren’t great. Your reputation might take a hit and who knows what they’ll say about you.  You’ll probably be labeled gay.”

Sam sighed. “I let others dictate how I lived my life here last time…this time I think I need to make those calls myself.  I cared too much and all I got was cheated on and no one knowing me well enough to know things were bad.  Quinn didn’t count because she didn’t know things were bad because she knew me but because of church…her mom was in charge of charity food boxes.  I don’t care what they call me…the fact is I have messed around with guys before and liked it and I don’t think it was just because I was at an all-boys school.”

Kurt looked at Sam and smiled. “Ok.  We’ll hang out and I’ll keep you from going straight into a relationship with the nutty girls we know who will likely demand it of you and you can distract me from feeling like Blaine’s behavior means that no one could ever really actually like me.  We’re almost home.  Dad said to drive to the shop and he’ll decide from there where we go.  I think a trip to the ER is in my future…and I’ll have to go shopping for things to wear and I won’t even be able to enjoy it.”

“I’ll come shopping with you.  Then you will at least have good company.  And I won’t even mind if you are grouchy the whole time.” Sam said.

Kurt smiled. “I am glad you are back, Mr. Sam I Am.  I missed you.”

“I am glad to be back. I things might be going the right directions for me finally.” Sam replied as he turned into the garage parking lot.  Burt exited the shop as soon as the SUV pulled in. “Now let’s see about getting you out of those mittens.”

[ao3feed-kurthummel]

Witches In the Family Tree

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bgjgTl

by pixiealtaira

Kurtoberfest day 5: Witches

Kurt has a difficult assignment.

Words: 2703, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Kurtoberfest 2016

Fandoms: Glee

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford

Relationships: Adam Crawford/Kurt Hummel

Additional Tags: Slice of Life

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bgjgTl This is an automatic feed of all new stories posted to the Kurt Hummel tag on AO3. Because of that, it is not guaranteed that Kurt is the main character in the story. There is also no judgment made as to ships, length, or warnings. Please verify content upon clicking through to AO3.

[chocoholicannanymous]

I’ve gotten through October 2015 in my “save interesting stuff from this blog” project, you know, for when tumblr completely implodes or I get kicked off for  some reason or whatever. Anyway, this means I just went through the first kurtoberfest, and the start of the cali experiment, and oh how amazing it was. So much writing, and so many amazing fics and comments, and I really miss it. Considering most fics were written and posted the same day the quality is mind-blowing. Also, I wrote some really good stories for that.

[chocoholicannanymous]

So this is not only a good story - it’s also a compliment! When @elledelajoie​ told me she’d written this one and that it was inspired my one of my kurtoberfest stories I felt all warm and tingly.

So share my happiness - go read!

Future Adjusted and Retailored

It’s mid-June 2020 and Rachel has delivered the baby, just a week after her Tony win.

Kurt’s future unravels during a simple conversation with a new mom in front of the nursery viewing window. Kurt has to adjust his expectations and find a way to piece his life back together.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702658

[ao3feedkurtbastian]

More than a Tease

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2on8EKC

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)

When Quinn takes Kurt to a theme Halloween party, he gets the chance to "face his fear". Since he can't think of one, he writes that his fear is spending an evening alone with Sebastian Smythe. It's a safe thing to say. No one has seen Sebastian since graduation, so there's no fear for Kurt to face.

Kurt has no clue that they'd actually be able to find him.

Words: 6433, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 40 of Kurtoberfest 2015

Fandoms: Glee

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kurt Hummel, Quinn Fabray, Sebastian Smythe, Original Characters

Relationships: Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, College, Angst, Anxiety, Halloween, mention of Blaine, not particularly Quinn or Rachel friendly, not entirely Blaine friendly but no Blaine bashing, mention of sexual situations

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2on8EKC

[vcg73]

Kurtoberfest Fic: The NYADA Masquerade Ball

I did not get to answer nearly as many of this year’s prompts as I’d hoped to, but here is one for the prompt: Masquerade Ball

Pair: Kadam (AU from Glee’s final season)

The Halloween Masquerade was the first major social event of the season at NYADA. There were plenty of student mixers and club gatherings at the start of a new school year, but the Masquerade Ball at the end of October was the first formal. The entire student body was invited, along with faculty, alumni, and significant others. The event required an RSVP, tickets, formal-wear, and a mask to conceal one’s identity.

That was part of the fun. Looking at someone’s disguise and trying to figure out who they were before the big reveal at midnight. Of course, in most cases that was easy. Some people were just so distinctive that it was impossible for them to hide behind a simple disguise of feathers and jewels.

Kurt suspected he would be one of those easily identified. He had always been one to stand out in a crowd, and now that he was in his third year at school, he had found his niche and along the way, he had somehow become very popular with other students. He was even looked upon kindly by the professors, who appreciated his hard work and unflagging spirit when it came to mastering difficult lessons.

For all the events he had been part of as either a participant or a guest, however, he had never attended the Masquerade Ball.

Freshman year, the event had been long over by the time Kurt started his late enrollment, though he had heard all about it from Rachel Berry. She had gone with a couple of other Freshmen who just wanted to see what the fuss was about, and she had made it sound so marvelous and romantic that Kurt had instantly been filled with longing to see it for himself.

The following year he had been engaged to Blaine, who took one look at the flyer announcing the event and announced that it sounded “stupid”. Blaine had rolled his eyes and scoffed at the notion of getting all dressed up in some fancy suit, with a silly mask on his face. Why put up with a lot of formal dancing and stodgy faculty-approved entertainment, when they could instead dress up like superheroes or rock stars, and go to the big party at Callbacks bar for some “actual fun”.

Kurt had quietly put away his hopes for attending the Ball. He did not want to have to beg for a partner, to make a beautiful outfit that Blaine would not appreciate, and stand in a corner all night hoping in vain to be asked for just one dance by his partner. In short, he did not want a repeat of Junior Prom at McKinley. He had instead agreed to be Green Lantern to Blaine’s Superman and they had gone to Callbacks. And he had stood in a corner anyway, nursing a drink, watching his fiance mingle and domineer the karaoke stage. He had then spend half the night defending himself from drunken accusations of ‘leading guys on’, just because other attendees had found the shimmery silver-threaded green spandex costume that Kurt had made, modeled after the Ryan Reynolds movie, hotter than Blaine’s blue and red fleece super suit.

Hearing his fellow students talk about the Ball all the following week at school after he had had such a miserable holiday himself, had been something like torture. So this year, Kurt was finally going to spend Halloween the way he wanted to.  He was going to the Masquerade Ball, and no one was going to stop him or spoil it for him. Blaine was gone, their engagement broken and his tenure as a NYADA student revoked by the Dean. Rachel had quit school and gone off to California chasing dreams of Hollywood stardom.

The Kurt Hummel of old would have shied away from attending a formal without a date, but this year he felt differently. For the first time since his breakup, he did not find his single status sad or pitiful. It would be nice not having to worry about disapproval or conflicting ideas of fun. He would make the outfit he had dreamed of, go to the Ball, and spend time with anyone he liked. He would ask other people to dance, not just wait around in the hope that someone would ask him. He would make this a night that he could always look back on and remember with fondness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

For two weeks, Kurt worked on his costume. He knew from bits of conversation around school that he would not be the only person putting his all into this, and that fact thrilled him. It would be nice not to be the only person who  appreciated a special dress occasion.

On the night of the Ball, he stood before his full-length mirror and preened with pleasure. He had created a suit based on men’s wear from Colonial America, feeling that it would be appropriately theatrical for a party being held on Staten Island.  The suit was made from a bolt of gorgeous blood-red velvet that he had found in a little dry goods shop in Chinatown, decorated with hand-knit gold trim at the cuffs, hems and lapels. It even had vintage buttons picked up from an antique store in Greenwich Village. He had sewn a long frock-coat with tight knee breeches from the red velvet and accented it with a black brocade waistcoat, a snowy white shirt with a jabot of heavy lace at the neck, and white stockings. He liked those stockings, and the shining black-heeled shoes that he had purchased to go with them. They weren’t quite 18th century accurate, but they showed off the well-developed muscles of his calves to great effect, making him wonder why such outfits had ever gone out of fashion for men.

His mask was of the same material as the waistcoat, trimmed around the edges with gold lace and a scattering of red feathers that gave the mask a bit of pleasing flair. The colors and shape showed his eyes off beautifully, especially after Kurt highlighted them with a ring of black eyeliner. He suspected people would take one look (though he had taken the trouble to style his hair differently tonight, soft natural waves instead of the usual sky-high coif) and guess who he was anyway. Everyone always seemed to comment on the unusual color of his eyes.

Still, who cared if he maintained an air of mystery or not? He was going to have a great time tonight either way.

For the sake of his outfit, Kurt put on a long coat and paid the cost of a cab ride to the party. When he arrived, he was glad he had gone to so much trouble. There were many beautiful and unique costumes on display and his was not the only period piece. It seemed as though a lot of girls had the Cinderella ball gown fantasy, and he happily spotted a couple of gentlemen who would not have looked out of place in a fairy tale, or perhaps a Bronte novel.

Helping himself to a glass of punch, he cruised the edges of the party for a while, taking in the costumes and soaking up the atmosphere. He was happy to finally be attending this event, and now that he was here he was actually grateful that he had not tried to convince Blaine to go last year. Beautiful costumes, classical music being provided by a live chamber orchestra, everyone polite and friendly, but no one obviously attention-seeking. His former fiance would have hated it.

Kurt spotted Madame Tibideaux speaking with Professor Graves over by the orchestra. Both were easily recognizable in their black feathered masks. They were dressed handsomely in what appeared to be matching tuxedos, Carmen’s designed with a full black satin skirt. From the smile gracing her face tonight it appeared that the Dean and the Masters Level acting teacher had come as a pair. How interesting!

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and said, “May I have this dance?”

He was surprised somehow to see that it was a lady doing the inviting, but who was he to turn down such a polite offer? She was dressed in a beautiful yellow satin gown with wide side-bustles that reminded him irresistibly of Belle from ‘Beauty & the Beast’, though he was not sure if that was intentional or not. He bowed, his partner curtsied, and they moved into a graceful Viennese Waltz. The romantic imagery of the moment thrilled Kurt to his soul and he knew that they were attracting some positive attention just by the way the conversational buzz had suddenly picked up. 

The dance ended with another formal bow, and Kurt could not resist a gallant kiss to the knuckles of his partner’s white-gloved hand. He nearly fell over from shock when a familiar twisted smile suddenly became visible from behind the lady’s large gold butterfly mask and he realized why her green eyes had seemed so familiar. “You’ve learned a thing or two about dancing since you took my class, Hummel. Good to see you here tonight.” Cassandra July laughed, surprising him again. He did not think he’d ever heard her do such a thing before. “Thank you for the dance, but I think I’d better turn you over to your adoring harem now.”

Kurt turned and saw that they were indeed being watched. He recognized Lonnie and Troy from his advanced vocal performance class, and Constantine and Victor from stage combat. All four were staring and smiling, and it was not the beautifully dressed dance instructor they were looking at.

Miss July gave him a little shove between his shoulder blades and went off to mingle. He approached the group and smiled. “Hi, guys. I’m glad you made it tonight. Isn’t this place gorgeous?”

“It is,” Con agreed, eyes sweeping approvingly over Kurt’s slender form, “and you make it even more so.”

Impressed by the gallant compliment, Kurt said, “Would you like to dance?”

The other boys looked gratifyingly disappointed when their friend quickly agreed. He and Kurt kept up a little bit of informal chatter as they danced, but while Constantine was a graceful performer with sword and shield in his hands, he was a bit of a klutz on a dance floor. Kurt began to fear for the fate of his shiny black shoes, and the toes inside of them, before Lonnie came along to save him by cutting in.

He made sure to give each of his friends a dance before moving off to get another drink and a plate from the buffet. For over an hour, he laughed and mingled freely, having the time of his life.

Now and then he recognized a person he knew, but it was fun that many others remained a puzzle. He danced with men and women, young and old, skilled and clumsy. Then, as he was taking a break to cool off and catch his breath out on one of the picturesque stone balconies that surrounded the ballroom, Kurt heard a voice say, “You look wonderful tonight. I’ve been admiring you since the moment you walked in.”

He knew that voice. He had not heard it in nearly two years, but he would have known it anywhere. He spun around, eyes wide. “Adam!”

“Hullo, Kurt,” he replied, smiling sweetly from behind a blue sequined mask.

As a NYADA alumni Adam had every right to be at tonight’s event, but Kurt had never in a million years expected to see him. He was dressed to the nines in a three piece black suit with a long morning coat over a blue vest that matched his mask. It looked like it might have been made in the early 20th century, as if he had pillaged the closet of the Earl of Grantham from “Downton Abbey”.

Kurt smiled back at him, thinking that the vintage suit really suited Adam’s quiet, understated style.“It’s really good to see you,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever have that chance again.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t mind if I came out and spoke to you,” he said. “I realize that our last meeting didn’t go very well, a fact I’ve regretted ever since that day. I wanted a chance to tell you that I still think of you very fondly, and that I’ve been wishing you well.”

“Oh, me too,” Kurt said, stepping forward and taking his hand impulsively. “I’m sorry things got so awkward between us, and I know that was my fault for not being clearer about my feelings. I wasn’t in a good place emotionally and you paid the price for that. It’s so amazing of you not to hate me.”

Adam ducked his head. “I don’t believe I’m capable of hating you, Kurt. Not even when I rather wished that I could. I should have known that you weren’t ready for a new relationship when you clearly weren’t over the old one yet. I did realize that, once I gave myself a chance to look back on that time with the clarity of distance.”

“I wish I had seen everything more clearly then. We could have had such a wonderful time together,” Kurt said wistfully. “But now it’s too late. You’re probably seeing someone amazing. Or maybe you’re the one who’s engaged now!”

“I’m not,” Adam told him, lips twitching a bit in amusement. “I was seeing a nice fellow for about half a year, but ultimately we just didn’t have enough in common. There’ve been odd dates now and again, of course, but nothing I’d care to stake my future on. How about yourself? Forgive me if I’m being insensitive, but may I assume from your lack of escort tonight that things didn’t work out with your old beau?”

“I broke things off a few months ago,” Kurt said, finding for the first time that admitting that to someone didn’t hurt. “We couldn’t find a middle ground between the things I wanted and the things he did.”

Adam hummed. “In other words, you’d grown tired of an 80-20 relationship, where you were always the twenty percent.” At Kurt’s surprised look, he said, “I may have graduated, but that doesn’t mean I quit speaking to all of my friends here.”

“Oh, right. It’s a little embarrassing to realize that everyone else could apparently see something that I was completely blind to,” Kurt replied wryly. “I’ve had a surprisingly large number of people congratulate me on losing the albatross around my neck. At first, I resented it, but when it kept happening I started to admit to myself just how much I had chosen to ignore.”

A kind look filled Adam’s eyes. “It’s not easy to see things when one is too close to the situation, and nobody wants to believe that someone they love is not good for them.”

Reading between the lines, Kurt said, “I wasn’t good for you, was I?”

Adam considered this. “Perhaps not entirely, but that wasn’t your fault. If I hadn’t let myself build up such a store of dreams and hopes that you unfairly had to live up to, and had let the relationship build on its own things might have turned out differently.”

“Maybe they could this time,” Kurt said. He paused, eyes going wide as words spoken with his heart and not his brain, caught up with him. “I … I mean … I know what it’s like to write someone a mental script and then get confused when it turns out that they haven’t read it. I can hardly hold it against you if you did that to me.”

Adam considered this. “So does that mean you’d like to try another date? Perhaps with a clearer eye this time?”

“I would, if you would. Or is it weird for me to ask you out again? I just thought that since you’re apparently single, and I’m definitely single, and I still really really like you … Um, would coffee, or a movie or something be completely out of the question?”

For a moment Adam looked startled, but then he smiled. That bright, cheerful, heart-tuggingly familiar smile that Kurt had once loved and now realized that he apparently still did. “I don’t think it would. In fact, I think that would be an excellent idea. I’m free all next week in the evenings except for Wednesday night, when I have an acting workshop. I’d love to take you for a coffee. Perhaps start off by catching each other up on where we’ve been and what we’ve done in these past two years.”

“That sounds amazing!” Kurt said happily.  “Can I have your number? I’ll double check my schedule to see what nights I’m working, and then I’ll call you.”

Adam’s eyes twinkled. “Great. How about if I trade you my number for a dance?”

Kurt cocked his head. “A dance?”

“It’s a bit chilly out here,” Adam said practically, his observation highlighted by the cold October wind as it blew past them, making both young men shiver. “And they’ve just begun playing my favorite waltz inside. So, may I have this dance?”

“You may,” Kurt agreed, taking his offered arm and allowing himself to be led back inside the ballroom. He stepped into Adam’s arms and they began to glide together as easily as if they had done this a hundred times, though in fact they had never before shared a dance.

Around and around the floor they moved, lost in the music and the pleasure of being held in each others arms again. There was no awkwardness over who should lead. Adam led the waltz he had invited, then Kurt took over as they segued seamlessly into a foxtrot when the music changed.

“You do look smashing tonight. That outfit is gorgeous and it really does you justice. Did you create it yourself?”

Kurt flushed happily. He had forgotten what it felt like to receive an honest and spontaneous compliment. Blaine had never been particularly appreciative of his personal style and appearance. “Yes, thank you. You look great too. I was just thinking that this style really suits you.”

Pleased, Adam said, “I wasn’t quite sure what was appropriate to the Ball. I don’t think I’ve been since my freshman year here, but I felt it would be difficult to go wrong with a formal black suit.”

“True, and your mask is beautiful. Did you make it?”

He touched the edge of the covering a trifle self-consciously. “I did, actually. It’s just a cheap foil mask I picked up at a party store and then glued over with velvet cloth and sequins.”

Kurt was impressed. He would never have guessed that Adam had such decorative skill. “You did a nice job, and that’s coming from someone who’s been making clothing and accessories since he was in middle-school.”

They chatted about random things as they danced. Light subjects that held no risk of breaking the happy mood. Sometimes they did not talk at all, simply swaying to the music and enjoying each others company, but by mutual consent all offers to cut in on them were refused. They danced and danced, like two figures in a romantic fairy tale come to life.

At last, the big grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime midnight, signaling time for the formal unveiling where everyone could reveal their identity to their fellow party-goers. Adam popped the elastic string of his mask forward, working the muscles of his cheeks and nose a bit to shake off the feeling of having the little foil mask sealed to his skin all evening. Kurt pulled the red velvet tie to loosen his own mask, and the two of them smiled at each other, enjoying the opportunity to see each others faces for the first time all night.

“You’re even handsomer than I remember,” Kurt said softly, taking in the defined planes of Adam’s face.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he replied. “The last couple of years have been very good to you, Kurt.”

He shook his head. “Not all good, but I think I’m in a better place because of them.” He smiled. “What more can anyone ask out of life than that?”

“Perhaps one other thing,” Adam told him. He leaned closer, pausing just a moment to look into Kurt’s eyes for consent. Seeing nothing but welcome, he smiled and pressed his lips gently to Kurt’s.

A small part of Kurt’s brain noted that the clock had sounded the final chime of midnight just as their lips met. With a happy sigh he melted into Adam’s firm embrace.

His first NYADA Masquerade Ball could not have had a more perfect ending.

THE END

[lady--divine]

Kurtoberfest Drabble - “A Witch, Not a Warlock” (Rated T)

Thomas has a unique request for what he wants to be for Halloween, which Kurt is more than happy to help him with, but it ends up coming with some unexpected stress...and an equally unexpected revelation on Kurt's part.

Rare pair: Kurtbastian

Written for the Kurtoberfest prompt 'trick or treat'. Warning for anxiety and a lot of parental concern.

Part of my Daddies series. Read on AO3.

“What an adorable little warlock!”

Kurt sighs to himself. It’s the first comment like this that they’ve gotten so far, but they’re only at the first house on the block. Kurt knows it’s not going to be the last.

“Actually,” Kurt says, putting his hands protectively on Thomas’s shoulders, preparing to deflect whatever unintendedly offensive remark his explanation might garner, “he’s dressed as a witch this year for Halloween, not a warlock.”

“Oh?” The woman at the door, holding a bowl filled with Butterfinger bars, sizes Thomas up and down. Kurt’s son stands on the woman’s doorstep dressed in a black, ankle-length gown that Kurt designed and made; holding an authentically-styled besom, which Kurt and Thomas created together using twigs they gathered in their front yard. Kurt spent close to an hour doing Thomas’s makeup, covering the boy’s skin with green face paint, shading his cheeks and eyes in black to make his chubby-cheeked, cherub boy look sinister (which didn’t work too well since Thomas’s natural cuteness prevailed against Kurt’s makeup mastery). Kurt even fashioned a hooked nose prosthetic and wart from liquid latex. Kurt went through all of this in the hopes that Thomas would look undeniably, unmistakably like a witch. Apparently, it didn’t work as well as he thought. “But, aren’t male witches traditionally called warlocks?”

“Maybe,” Kurt says, keeping his voice bright and his disposition cheery for as long as he can before he’s forced to call in for reinforcements, “but Thomas decided he wanted to be a witch for Halloween, so that’s what he is.”

“Yup,” Thomas says proudly, holding his bag up for his piece of candy, “and Hepburn is my animal familiar.” Thomas looks over his raised arm at his Labradoodle, sitting patiently beside him. The woman’s eyes follow, raising a brow at the dusty-brown colored service dog. Thomas leans in close to the lady putting two bars of chocolate in his bag. “We were going to dress him up as a cat, but I thought that might be a little mean. You know…because he’s a dog.”

“Gotcha.” The woman gives Thomas a wink that, thankfully, looks genuine. “Well, you definitely have my vote for best witch costume this year,” she says. “Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween,” Kurt says, smiling as he steers Thomas down the street. He breathes a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t calm him. They’ve just started their route. They still have about three blocks of houses to go.

And each one goes about the way Kurt pictured it.

Knock-knock.

“Trick or Treat!”

“What an adorable warlock!”

“I’m a witch.”

“He’s a witch.”

“But isn’t a male witch called a warlock?”

“Normally, I suppose, but this year Thomas wanted to be a witch. So, he’s a witch. Trick or Treat!”

Knock-knock.

“Trick or Treat!”

“Look at the cute war---“

“Witch. He’s a witch.”

“I’m a witch.”

“But, aren’t male witches…”

“Still a witch. Happy Halloween!”

Knock-knock.

“Trick or Treat!”

“Oh, Thomas! What an inspired little warlock---“

“Witch! He’s a witch He’s dressed as a witch this year, not a warlock!” There’s an awkward moment of quiet staring between Kurt and the matronly lady at the front door. His smile, about as fake as his exhausted, twitchy lips can form, somehow grows to meet the lines wrinkling his stressed brow. “Happy Halloween!”

By the twenty-fifth house, Kurt’s face is frozen with strain. He’s smiling too tight and grinding his teeth. Before people open their mouths to say anything about his son’s costume, Kurt barks out, “Witch! He’s a witch. Not a warlock, but a witch. He wanted to be a witch, so he’s a witch. Got it? Trick or Treat!”

If Sebastian was going door-to-door with them instead of manning their own front door with a bowl of full-sized Snickers, he would joke that people are giving Thomas two candy bars instead of the requisite one (which they are) not because he’s so damn adorable (which he is) but because they want crazy-eyes Kurt Hummel-Smythe to go away and not come back later in the night to torch their houses.

Knock-knock.

“Trick or Treat!”

“Oh, Thomas!” Mrs. Henderson, one of their older neighbors, with a son already grown and gone, puts a slightly shaking hand to her lips as she gets a good look at the beaming boy on her doorstep. “Don’t you make the sweetest little---“

“Witch!” Kurt cuts in, his reaction a reflex by now. “He’s a witch!”

Mrs. Henderson stares at Kurt, wide-eyed with surprise, but aims a delighted smile at Thomas.

“I was just about to say what a smart little witch you make, Thomas,” she says. “And what a bold costume choice.”

“Thank you,” Thomas says, rolling on his heels and waiting patiently for his candy.

“You know, when my Artie was seven, he wanted to be Malibu Barbie for Halloween.”

Kurt’s stiff veneer softens at the green-eyed woman addressing his little boy.

“Really?” Kurt asks, astonished.

“Yup,” she says. “He’d made up his mind the second those dolls hit the shelves, and asked me for a costume every day after that. Told everyone we knew about it. Even told people on the street.”

“Why did he want to be Barbie so badly?” Kurt asks, relaxing enough to lean against the doorframe, no longer gearing up for an argument.

“Well, look at her!” Mrs. Henderson chuckles. “She had a dream house, a Corvette, she was a doctor, went to the moon, flew a plane, she was even president.”

“True,” Kurt agrees, surprised that he’d never thought of it that way. With the way people always cry out to ban Barbie for promoting an unhealthy body image, Kurt had overlooked all of the positive things Barbie has done in her life, things little girls (and boys) should be encouraged to try and do.

The conversation pauses while Mrs. Henderson reaches for a treat for Thomas, the inevitable question hanging in the air, but Kurt feels like a hypocrite for considering asking it.

“My Artie isn’t homosexual,” Mrs. Henderson says, answering the question anyway, as if she knew that’s what Kurt was waiting for. She tucks a popcorn ball and a Three Musketeers into Thomas’s bag. “But that wouldn’t have mattered. Barbie is a role model as far as I’m concerned, and I felt there was nothing wrong with it. Other people” – She shrugs – “well, you know what they say about opinions and butt holes.”

“Mrs. Henderson!” Thomas exclaims with a giggle. Kurt laughs.

“Yeah, I know,” Kurt says with a wink. “So, what did you do?”

“Well, I made him two costumes that year,” she explains. “I made him a Malibu Barbie costume - the gold swimsuit with a pink cover-up shirt that ties in the front, and a big blonde wig. But I also made him a Superman costume with a cape and…” Mrs. Henderson shakes her head. “You know, I knew which one he was going to pick, so I put extra time and effort into it.”

“Which one was he?” Kurt asks, on the edge of his proverbial seat.

Mrs. Henderson puts a finger up, reaching out to a shelf by the door for a photo album. She flips a few pages, then shows Kurt and Thomas a photograph of a smiling boy in a blonde wig, wearing a gold bathing suit with a pink cover-up.

“Oh my goodness!” Kurt chuckles. “He looks adorable!”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Henderson says, holding the album lower for Thomas to see. “You know, there were three other children dressed as Barbie that year, but he was the cutest. Everyone said so.”

“Where’s that costume now?”

“Artie’s daughter wore it for Halloween a few years back,” she says, returning the album to its shelf. “This year she wanted to be Cobra from G.I. Joe, and you know, no one gave her any grief about it. Most people think it’s cute, her being a fan of boy things.”

Kurt nods. “Strange, huh?”

“Meh,” the older woman says with a wave of her hand. “It’s the way of human beings to try and stick everybody in a little box with their name on it, and three lines maximum saying who they are, but there’s only one time in your life you should ever let that happen, and even then, make sure you approve of the summary.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, catching her meaning. “Good night, Mrs. Henderson. Thanks so much for everything.”

“Yup,” Thomas agrees, happy to move on since most of the conversation had started going over his head. “Three Musketeers are my favorites!”

“I’m glad,” she says, giving Kurt and Thomas a final wave. “Have a safe night.” She backs into her house and closes the door, and the smile on Kurt’s face starts to look a little less manic.

Energized after their discussion with Mrs. Henderson, they hit three more houses, but as the lights start to go off in some of the windows, and the crowds of younger kids begin to thin, Kurt turns them around and takes his yawning little witch back home.

***

“Okay,” Sebastian says, climbing under the comforter with his worn-out husband, already in bed and reading a magazine, “I got the story from the munchkin while I was tucking him in. Now you tell me - how did it go?”

“About sixty/forty,” Kurt says, closing his magazine and setting it aside. “But to tell you the truth, by the time we reached our last house, I began to realize that most of the stress of the evening was on me. Nobody was trying to be mean to Thomas or anything. His costume just needed a little explaining. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Did you see the look on his face when he got home?” Sebastian lays down with his head in Kurt’s lap. “If anyone did give him the evil eye, I don’t think he noticed one way or the other.”

“They didn’t,” Kurt reassures him.

“That’s good,” Sebastian says with a they better not have or else expression on his face.

“That’s because we live in a nice, polite, mostly tolerant, sheltered little hamlet,” Kurt says. “We might have our differences with a few of our neighbors, but for the most part, they’re decent people.”

“Including Mrs. Sebiane?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows playfully, waiting for the rant he knows is coming.

“Okay,” Kurt says, talking with his hands, “I mean, I love butterscotch chips as much as the next person, but please! They shouldn’t go in everything!”

“She says it’s her secret ingredient.”

“Yeah, well FYI, it isn’t a secret, especially when everything she bakes comes out puke orange.”

“Oh, God!” Sebastian laughs. “That image is going to be burned into my eyes forever.”

Kurt crosses his arms, grazing his husband’s nose with his elbow, but Sebastian stays put. With his head in his husband’s lap is one of Sebastian’s favorite positions in the world. But before Sebastian’s eyes, the fire in Kurt’s expression dims, and an overall look of tired returns to his face.

“Bas?” Kurt stares at the wall when he speaks, at the pictures hanging there of their little family – Sebastian and Kurt on their wedding day, Thomas and Hepburn on the first day of school, his father and Carole from last Christmas, old pictures of Finn from way back in high school. His eyes land on those and stay there, on pictures taken in the choir room, the auditorium, the gym. “Is it awful that I hope that Thomas…isn’t gay?”

Sebastian sighs. He saw this coming, and not just because of tonight. It’s been weaving its way into the background of many of their recent conversations with regard to their son. Lately, with his anxiety issues and his OCD becoming more manageable, those haven’t been the huge, daunting problems they seemed in the beginning. But the moment Thomas asked Kurt if he could be a witch for Halloween, at the start of the school year when his class started reading selections by Roald Dahl, Sebastian had seen something foreign in Kurt’s eyes, something Kurt wasn’t talking about, something Sebastian himself had never even thought to consider.

“No,” Sebastian says, taking Kurt’s hand. “It’s not awful, sweetheart. It’s understandable. You don’t want him to have problems. You don’t want him to get bullied the way you did. You don’t want people to make the choice to hate him without getting to know him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“If the world were just a little bit different…” Kurt starts, but a sniffle stalls his progress.

“I know,” Sebastian says, kissing Kurt’s hand. “And it’s Thomas’s generation that has to carry the burden of making it different. I mean, you and I, and the generation after us, we’re doing what we can, but I’m not sure it’s going to be what it needs to be when the time comes.”

“That’s part of what I’m afraid of,” Kurt says in a shaky voice. “I catch myself praying that if he is gay, that he changes and not the world, and I…” Kurt’s words become a nervous laugh, “I kind of hate myself for it.”

“Hey,” Sebastian sits up, pulling his husband into his arms and rocking him gently. “It’s okay. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Isn’t that my job?”

“Yeah.” Kurt chuckles at his husband’s weak attempt at raunchy humor. “You’re not doing it very well if I’m thinking about all this crap.”

Sebastian laughs lightly, and kisses Kurt on the forehead.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he says. “You’d be a fool if you weren’t. But the important thing is that if Thomas ever does come to us and tell us that he’s gay, or bi, or pan, or ace, or trans, or anything else under the sun, that we’re the most loving, supportive parents we can be, right? We should live in the kind of world that accepts our son no matter what, not the kind he needs to change to live in, but…that’s not reality.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Sebastian says. “It happens quite a bit. You always sound so surprised when you say that.”

Kurt looks at Sebastian, his smile wavering at the corners. “How did you get to be so smart?”

“I lucked out,” Sebastian says.

“Genetics?”

“Hell, no,” Sebastian says, squeezing Kurt tight. “I married a brilliant, compassionate, gorgeous man, and I think he’s rubbing off on me.”

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtoberfest one-shot - “Dance with the Devil” (Rated T)

While working as a temp in a luxury office building, Kurt finds himself in an unfortunate situation, which leads him to the even more unfortunate situation of being in Sebastian Smythe's debt. (3501 words)

Rare pair - Kurtbastian

Mention of B*laine but not K*laine. B*laine friendly.

Written for the @kurtoberfest prompt "black cats, bones, and bats" and dedicated to @freakingpotter who gave me the idea, like, two years ago xD AU that assumes Kurt, Sebastian, and Blaine are all in the same grade (I'm picking sophomore), and all attended Dalton together. Also messes with the timeline a little bit so that Blaine is crushing on Jeremiah during November.

Read on AO3.

“Thank you so much for coming on such short notice, Mr. Hummel,” Olivia – a petite older woman with curly blonde hair and seashell-pink plastic rimmed glasses far too big for her face – sniffles. She reminds Kurt of Carole the way her eyes turn to slits when she smiles, crinkling at the corners, and the rosy pink lipstick she wears even though it doesn’t flatter her skin. She turns her face away from Kurt when she coughs into the crook of her arm. He knows she’s trying to be discreet, but she sounds like she’s ten feet away from death’s door. “We’ve had three other temps go home early already. We were running out of hope.”

“Well, thank you for trusting your business to Eastwood Employment Agency,” Kurt says, reciting the line the agency requires him to say.

She smiles at his response, but suddenly turns and coughs again, shaking violently as she tries to catch a breath. Kurt takes a subtle step to the right, putting more airspace between them. The last thing he needs is to catch whatever she and the other receptionists have. He wants to fill his school breaks with as many jobs as he can so he can raise money for his college fund. Usually he’d just work down at his dad’s shop for extra money, but it seems that Finn has cornered the franchise on that. Besides, Kurt’s sick of staining his skin and nails doing oil changes. A nice, clean desk job, answering phone calls while he checks his social media feeds, is more his style.

“This is where you’ll sit.” Olivia leads Kurt to an impressively large, circular station in the center of the lobby, made entirely of sleek, black, marble-like stone shimmering with flecks of clear quartz embedded inside. The actual desk portion is wood - Kurt thinks mahogany – running the entire length of the stone barricade and hidden like an executive-style fort. The enclosure houses a phone, a desktop computer, a file cabinet, even a mini fridge.

“Classy,” Kurt says. He steps through the opening in the stone wall. He walks to the rolling desk chair, puts his messenger bag on the floor, and takes a seat.

“You’ll be in charge of greeting guests to the Luxe Building,” Olivia explains, snuffling the ends of her sentences. “When a visitor walks in, smile, and say …” She hacks into her arm, and this time, Kurt’s not entirely sure she’s going to recover. She coughs and coughs until her face turns beet red, wheezing like every inch of breath is leaving her body. Then she recovers quickly, turning to him with a big smile “… Welcome to the Luxe Building.” She barely misses a beat. He’s tempted to applaud. “Answer any questions they have. Most people who come here know where they’re going, but in case they don’t, bathrooms and directories are by the elevators.” She points behind Kurt to where he recalls seeing elevators when he walked in. “You’re also in charge of answering the phones and redirecting calls. There’s a booklet beside the phone with a list of extensions compiled by last name in alphabetical order. The first two numbers of an extension indicate what floor a person’s on, just in case you need to find someone that way.”

“Nothing’s computerized?” Kurt asks. He glances at the desktop computer, confused as to why a multimillion dollar building, which houses floor after floor of Fortune 500 companies, would bother with a receptionist and an ink-and-paper directory – not that he’s complaining. He’s getting $12 an hour to babysit a desk.

“The majority of the businesses in this building bypass the receptionist and have a direct line to their floor. To be honest, you’re mostly a smiling face for the odd person who comes in.”

Olivia smiles, as if to tell him that that job starts now.

Kurt smiles, eager to start earning money.

“Sounds like an easy job,” Kurt comments, wondering how he can swing a gig like this until he graduates high school.

“It can be,” Olivia agrees. “But every once in a while it can be a real pain in the tuchus.” She laughs herself into another coughing fit. Kurt searches the desk for a box of tissues. He sees a can of Lysol antibacterial cleaning wipes and logs their location away for after she’s gone. He’s going to disinfect this desk from top to bottom. “Anyway, unless you have any questions … oh, and one more thing.” She drags a crystal bowl across the counter top, bringing it to a stop closer to Kurt’s face. “We keep this bowl filled with gummy candy for whoever wants. They’re sugar-free. If you want a handful, go ahead. If you ever run out, there’s a bag under the desk. Just refill it.”

Kurt picks a few candies out of the bowl and examines them. They’re individually wrapped, ambiguously-dark colored, and in the shapes of black cats, bones, and bats. Seeing as it’s going to be Thanksgiving in a week, he finds that a little odd.

“They’re from Halloween,” she says, assuming confusion from his quirked brow, “but they’re still goo---“ This time Olivia turns completely around when she coughs. The force causes her to stumble a few steps. Kurt covers his mouth with his hand. He feels bad for her, really he does, but he doesn’t need to catch bronchitis days before he cooks a meal to feed ten people.

“I’ll be fine,” Kurt says, finding a box of tissues and tossing it up onto the counter beside the bowl. “You just go home and get better, Mrs. Parkins, and let Eastwood Employment Agency take care of the rest.”

“Oh, yes.” She reaches back for a tissue without turning around, leading Kurt to believe that something disgusting has happened just over her bowed shoulders. “Of course. Thank you.”

Kurt watches the poor woman hobble off, coughing and hacking the entire way to the elevator. The minute she steps in and the doors close, he’s alone - just him, a quiet phone, and a bowl of questionable candy. First things first, he busts out the container of cleaning wipes and wipes down everything – the counter, the bowl, the first layer of candies, the phone, the desk, the computer keyboard, the mini fridge, and the armrests on the chair. He takes his on-the-go bottle of Purell out of his bag and disinfects his hands. Then he sits in the chair and waits, poised at the ready to see if the phone will ring. When it doesn’t, he sits back in the chair and relaxes. He pulls out his phone and checks his Tumblr blog, resisting the urge to post a selfie. He doesn’t want to get fired for breaking some rule against selfie taking that he doesn’t know exists. Better safe than sorry.

He realizes when he tries to scroll down that he’s still holding a handful of gummy candy. He’d managed to clean the whole desk with them clutched in his hand. Instead of tossing them back in the bowl, he decides to throw caution to the wind. He unwraps them and shoves them in his mouth. They’re surprisingly good for sugar-free gummies. But eating that handful reminds him that he didn’t grab lunch on the way over. He’d been so excited when he got the call from Eastwood Employment Agency, he ran out of the house, not even considering the fact that he might not get a lunch break. And seeing as Olivia didn’t mention one, he’s probably screwed for food unless he can get someone to bring him something.

He texts his dad, then Carole, then Finn, going down the line of friends who might be willing to bring him lunch, and while he waits, he nibbles, gummy after gummy meeting its inevitable demise.

He switches over to Facebook. He hearts his friends’ pictures, and reads the posts on The New Directions page, but much of his wall is flooded with brag posts from people who managed to snag dates to the upcoming McKinley Winter Ball. Kurt zips past as many of them as he can at once, but when his screen stops scrolling, they’re still there, taunting him with their heteronormativity.

God, he wants a date to a school dance. Dalton is having a dance after Thanksgiving break – some conjoined winter-themed hootenanny with their sister school, Crawford Country Day. Technically, he already has a date. Mercedes offered to go with him. But as much as he loves his best friend, he wishes he could go with a boy. It would be possible at Dalton – their no-tolerance bullying policy extends to school sponsored activities. But the pickings are slim as far as gay guys go at Dalton. In fact, the only other openly gay boys that Kurt knows of are Blaine Anderson and Sebastian Smythe. His first choice would be to go with Blaine. Kurt has secretly been in love with Blaine since the day he met him. But their relationship seems to have plateaued at the friend stage, and besides, there’s a certain GAP manager that Blaine knows that seems to occupy his thoughts 24/7, even though the man hasn’t done anything other than buy him coffee. Kurt doesn’t want to be turned down on the off-chance that a 19-year-old man has nothing better to do on a Saturday night then go to a high school dance, but Kurt also doesn’t want to be Blaine’s “Plan B”.

That leaves Sebastian, and boy could Kurt leave him. Sebastian seems a bit more interested in making Kurt’s life miserable – spending every waking moment that they run in to one another reminding Kurt how ridiculously he dresses out of uniform, how low class his beginnings, how destined for life as a Lima Bean barista he is - than in anything as parochial as a high school dance. Not that Kurt would ask him. Not in this life or any other.

Besides, Sebastian seems to be on Team “Lusting After Blaine” as well, always showing up unannounced when Kurt and Blaine are having coffee together, bragging about his big wins on the lacrosse field, or how he made President of the Chess Club or Model U. N., showing off how much more accomplished he is than Kurt, how much more worthy of Blaine’s time and attention.

So he’s definitely out.

And knowing Kurt’s luck, if GAP manager guy doesn’t come through for Blaine, Blaine will probably end up with Sebastian. In fact, Kurt’s kind of surprised Sebastian hasn’t asked Blaine to go by now. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would be frightened off by the prospect of an older man possibly being Blaine’s date. Maybe Sebastian has someone else already lined up – someone he thinks will make Blaine jealous.

Ugh! Kurt thinks as he pops another handful of gummies in his mouth. He’s already given this way too much thought.

Unless Kurt wants to go stag, Mercedes might be his only option.

Kurt contemplates sending her a text to tell her to brush off that purple gown she wore to Winter Ball last year when he hears someone enter the building. Kurt swallows down a mouthful of cats, sits up straight, and is about to launch into his greeting when he hears, “Well, well, well - Kurt Hummel, secretary. It’s not a Lima Bean apron, but it still suits you.”

“Oh, God,” Kurt groans. Think of the devil, and he will appear. But why here? Why now? “Why the hell are you here, Sebastian?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sebastian says, walking up to the counter and standing in Kurt’s line of sight. “That’s not how you’re supposed to greet guests to the Luxe Building.”

“You’re not a guest, you’re more of a parasite. Answer the question.”

Kurt expects Sebastian to decline, even threaten to tattle on him, but he doesn’t. “My uncle’s office is on the twenty-sixth floor.”

“So, you’re working in your uncle’s office over the vacation?”

Sebastian laughs so suddenly, Kurt would think the idea is so ridiculous, Sebastian has never considered it before. “God, no. I just met with him for lunch. You know, I don’t see why they need a receptionist down here. This place is usually a graveyard.” His eyes fall on the empty bowl on the counter. He scrunches his nose, picking the thing up in disbelief and turning it over. “Yuck! This bowl is never empty. I didn’t know anyone actually ate these things.”

“Why?” Kurt asks, feeling oddly offended. “They’re not that bad.”

Sebastian looks from the empty bowl to Kurt. “Wait … did you eat them?”

Kurt goes from offended to embarrassed. Now that he sees it empty, it is a rather large bowl for one human being to have eaten all of them. “Maybe.”

Sebastian chuckles, but slowly starts to look serious. “Was the bowl full? H-how many did you eat?”

Kurt looks at Sebastian, not sure what to make of his expression. Kurt’s not in the habit of trusting Sebastian. In fact, it’s yet to happen. But something about his eyes, the look of concern that Kurt’s not too sure would be easy to fake, makes Kurt nervous. “I eat when I get bored,” he says, still not willing to admit outright that he polished off the whole bowl himself. “Olivia said they’re sugar-free.”

“Uh, yeah, but still, you’re only supposed to have a few.” The look of concern doesn’t shift from Sebastian’s eyes. In fact, it deepens. Kurt swallows hard.

“Okay, yes, I ate the whole bowl. Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t get to eat lunch before I got here, and I thought it would leave a bad impression if I passed out on my first day. Look, I’ll fill it back up.” Kurt grabs the bag from beneath the desk and starts pouring more gummy candies into the bowl, not mentioning that after he emptied the bowl, he started swiping straight from the source. “See? What’s the big deal?”

“You’re not going to believe me if I tell you, and as amusing as it would be to watch you find out for yourself, I’m just going to show you.” Sebastian pulls up Amazon on his phone. He types something in, enlarges the page, then hands the phone to Kurt. On the screen is the very same sugar-free gummies Kurt has been pounding down non-stop. At first glance, he doesn’t see anything wrong with them. They’re a 3.5 star rated product, but that’s probably because people don’t usually like anything sugar-free (he tells himself). But he scrolls down to the reviews, and immediately changes his tune.

THESE THINGS MUST BE THE SPAWN OF SATAN! DO NOT BUY!

Kurt physically jerks after reading that, as if the reviewer was screaming in his face. As if that isn’t alarming enough, the reviews actually get worse.

Oh man ... words cannot express what happened to me after eating these. The Gummi Bear "Cleanse". If you are someone that can tolerate the sugar substitute, enjoy. If you are like the dozens of people that tried my order, RUN!

It was like something out of a horror movie … 

0/10 my rectum melted into thin air …

How are these still legal? I'm about to call a priest to perform an exorcism to get those little demons out of my body!

I have had these and after that I WANT TO DIE … 

This product is the government’s alternative to waterboarding terrorists …

There's not a bucket in the world big enough to hold the deluge of diarrhea that erupted after my family and I tucked into these …

On and on the reviews went, one horrific story of gastrointestinal distress after another. The seventh time he reads the word “diarrhea” he feels his stomach churn. He throws a hand over his mouth when, in actuality, he should be putting it over something else. “Oh God,” he moans. The phone starts to ring, eight lines suddenly lighting up at once, but he doesn’t hear it. All he hears as he races out from behind the desk and to the restroom is Sebastian laughing so hard, Kurt’s certain he’ll end up with a hernia.

***

Kurt doesn’t know what’s more humiliating – the fact that he spent the last half hour defiling the swankiest bathroom he has ever been in, that Sebastian Smythe knows about it, or that now he feels so weak, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to drive home. He could call his dad to come pick him up, but how would he explain this to him – without having to hear about it at every Friday night dinner or holiday meal from now till the end of time, that is? He could call Finn instead, but that option wouldn’t end much better. Worst of all, he’s pretty sure he just forfeited his paycheck. Of course, Sebastian told on him. He probably didn’t even wait till the bathroom door shut before he called Olivia and spilled the details. Kurt will come back to a phone lit up like a Christmas tree, being manned by an angry and red-faced Olivia, no longer thankful that Kurt had showed up on a moment’s notice to save the day.

Though, in retrospect, maybe he should sue, since it was her candy that turned his stomach inside out.

But what Kurt does return to is ten times more shocking than Olivia in a bathrobe and slippers.

Before he steps a foot away from the bathroom door, he hears, “Thank you for calling the Luxe Building, how may I re-direct your call? … Mr. Allen’s out of the office for the afternoon. May I transfer you to his voicemail? … I’m not sure that Ms. Cable has a three o’clock open, but I can put you through to her receptionist …” all in Sebastian’s voice. At least, Kurt thinks it’s Sebastian’s voice. He’s never heard him sound so polite before. Kurt approaches the reception area cautiously, his stomach still in a delicate condition, but wondering if he shouldn’t bypass the reception desk entirely and run for the hills. But he can’t. He left his phone and his messenger bag behind the counter. He can’t risk leaving those with Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian turns and catches Kurt walking toward him, almost on tiptoes, as he transfers the last call. “Do I need to call maintenance, or do the toilets still flush?”

Kurt can’t stand how quickly his cheeks turn red at that remark. He wishes he could just see the humor in it. If Sebastian were Finn or Puck, Kurt might be able to laugh it off, but next to having been caught in this position by Blaine, this is horrifying.

“You covered for me while I was in the bathroom being sick?” Kurt deflects.

“Well, I didn’t want my uncle’s office missing any calls because you inhaled eight pounds of diarrhea fuel.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” Kurt says, even though he can’t say he remembers the last name Smythe anywhere on the phone directory. Of course, maybe it’s his mother’s brother, but he also can’t remember seeing any extensions for the twenty-sixth floor.

“Yeah, well, responsible’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Kurt crosses his arms. “Call me a skeptic, but I never would have guessed that.”

“And losing seventeen pounds of water weight did nothing to lighten your attitude.”

“Excuse me for being a little short, but I’m just curious what I’m going to owe you now for helping me out.”

Sebastian shrugs. He stands, relinquishing Kurt’s chair. “Maybe just say thank you.”

Kurt waits until Sebastian passes him by before he returns to his chair. He does a quick scan of the desk. His bag is where he left it, and so is his phone. Nothing looks touched. “Thank you,” Kurt says, his tone flat and dry. Sebastian frowns.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thank you. And after everything I’ve done for you.” Sebastian shakes his head disapprovingly. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something you can do to show your appreciation.”

Kurt’s jaw drops. “Wha---? I thought you said …”

“Yes, but that wasn’t a very pleasant thank you you just gave me. And as much as I’m not too sure how it would behoove me to let the knowledge slip that I just spent the last thirty minutes listening to you break ass, I’m still hoping for a proper show of gratitude.”

Kurt crosses his arms. “What show of gratitude?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” Sebastian says, dismissively. But a sneaky grin takes over his mouth. “Hey, do you have a date to that Dalton Country Day dance?”

Kurt feels his sensitive stomach sink, cold chills radiating up his spine. “Uh … no. Why?”

Sebastian smirks. “Just curious. If I were you, I’d keep that date open. See you around.”

Kurt watches Sebastian leave, a whirlwind of awful thoughts whisking through his head, making him feel nauseous all over again.

The reviews for the gummy candies are based off these real reviews https://www.amazon.com/Haribo-Sugar-Free-Gummy-Bears/product-reviews/B008JELLCA/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_paging_btm_2?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&pageNumber=2

[pixiealtaira]

Hide Your Face

Kurtoberfest prompt 2: Masquerade....2017

Pairing: Ultimate Kurt/Sebastian.

Notes: Not Blaine friendly.  mentions Karofsky’s issues

Kurt left the restaurant just after Brittany and Santana had danced while the God Squad sang to them. He was crushed at finding out Blaine had not sent the Valentines.  He was confused to why Dave had done so, why he thought Kurt was free.

Of course he was also really confused about why Blaine was out of school for a bit over three weeks, nearly a full month, after he got the slushy to the face and his eye scratched. When Kurt got scratched in the eye by the neighbor’s puppy, he hadn’t even been allowed out of school for more than one day and have it excused. Nor when he and the rest of his lab table got the chemical burns in the eighth grade when the stupid jock sitting with them decided to play with the chemicals instead of following directions and splashed them across the lab table.  Nor when he got the infection after the whole pee balloon incident right before his freshman year. Now granted the second two incidences had a day or two more excused time, but not much and none bedridden.

Kurt sighed as he fretted again.  Blaine hadn’t even texted him or answered any texts in two weeks, since the day Kurt and Rachel and Finn had headed over and sang Ben to him.  Supposedly his parents had been taking him out of state for surgery, but when Burt called and asked for an update on it Blaine’s mother hadn’t even known what he was talking about.

It was irritating to think Blaine might not have been telling Kurt the truth, yet again.

Kurt turned on his SUV and pulled out, turning to face the entrance to the parking lot when Blaine’s car pulled in, followed by four others. When he didn’t stop or wave Kurt sighed, looking around.  He was one of six black SUVs in the lot, so maybe Blaine didn’t notice it was him. Kurt frowned and backed his vehicle into one of the far spots where he could see into the restaurant.

Blaine got out of his car and waved to someone in a sort of wait motion.  He peeked into Breadstix and then waved again for someone to come forward.

Warblers spilled out of their cars and rushed towards the door which Blaine had thrown open in a grand entrance type of movement.  It reminded Kurt of Blaine and the Pips throwing papers in the halls of Dalton. Sure enough, Blaine headed directly to the stage, pushing the God Squad off as he and Warblers filled it.

The door was propped open by boys standing in the doorway, so Kurt rolled his windows down so he could hear what Blaine was singing.

The Love Shack. Warbler backed. Go figure.

He watched Blaine hang on Trent and Thad before going to hang on Jeff before Nick pushed him away. Blaine did his little wounded puppy face and oblivious shrug.  The one he always did when he knew he did something wrong but was trying to make everyone else think he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong.

He was dressed to party. He was eye patch free.  He was also not even looking for Kurt at all. Kurt turned off his SUV and leaned back into his seat to see how long it took for Blaine to realize Kurt wasn’t there and maybe ask about him.

Six songs by Blaine and the Pips, time to eat Burgers which had been delivered right out to the guys…and two arguments with Quinn which led to them singing three more songs…later and Kurt determined the answer was never.  At least not that night.  Blaine didn’t care.  He hadn’t talked to Sam or Finn or Rachel.  He hadn’t talked to Mercedes.  He had talked to Sugar and Tina and loads of other guys.

An unfamiliar car pulled into the lot as Kurt was fuming.  Kurt watched several more Dalton boys get out and walk towards the entrance before the car went off…presumably dropping kids off.

Kurt was startled with the pounding on his window followed by the opening of his passenger door and someone seating themselves inside.

“Lady Face.”

“Sebastian.  How lovely to see you. I thought the go to term for me was gay-face?”

“Yes well, my father reminded me that that term was insulting to the whole LGBTQ+ community and asked how he was supposed to keep being a good ally when I was going around doing things like that. So, what are you doing here?”

Kurt snorted. “I live nearby, am in the same school and club with Sugar, who is the one hosting this thing tonight, sadly consider this somewhat a hangout…why wouldn’t I be here? You guys however are all a bit far from home.”

“Yeah, but Blaine invited us as we were traveling home yesterday.” Sebastian said. “And the Warblers had fun singing at last year’s little shindig…several got dates out of it…so we decided to come down this year.  But Blaine said you weren’t here.”

“Blaine has never been very observant…at all. Misses even the obvious half the time.  Of course I missed all the time he was spending with you at the Lima Bean and shopping and at Dalton and apparently Skyping and texting and calling, so perhaps I have no room to talk.  Traveling home?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian cringed at the very bitter rant, surprised it was aimed mostly towards Kurt’s own self. “Yeah. But he went to great lengths so that you didn’t know he was hanging with me and the guys…were you trying hard to hide from him tonight? Oh, and you forgot country club activities. Anyway, Blaine went on the History of America tour with us. It was part of his father’s agreement with him changing schools. Blaine would attend the ‘Dalton Experiences’ which his dad paid greatly for in order for him to be able to attend while not actually going to Dalton, he would maintain his involvement in the country club youth programs and activities, he would pull top scores in his classes, he would become involved in worthwhile endeavors at the school and have good standing in them,  he would present himself as a true Anderson and maintain leads in most of what he participated in, and he would refrain from causing scenes and his dad would allow him to go to McKinley.”

Kurt snorted again. “Of course he did…hmm, in both Anderson men’s cases, of course he did.  I’m surprised his father let him go, though.  Blaine said he was mad.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to snort. “He was. He called Thad’s father to find out who to contact about the whole face off thing and then called my father and I was down there apologizing before two days had passed. After that he was just mad at you guys for tossing a fit about us stealing songs instead of just accepting that we are rich and deserve what we want.  His words…not mine.  Blaine of course did not tell him how the songs got stolen.”

Kurt laughed. “You’d apologized even before Santana’s epic take down, huh?  I hope you don’t mind if I don’t tell her that.  She is very proud of herself.”

“Eh, I don’t mind. I actually had fun.  It’s nice to find someone who gives me a run for my money on the whole bad attitude front.”

“I’m not telling her that, either.  It would go to her head and you’d probably never be able to go anywhere ever again without her finding you and bitching at you. So, what are you doing out here anyway? Blaine and your pals are all in there.”

“Excuse me if I figured finding out why YOU were out here and not in there and why Blaine thought you weren’t here at all was more interesting than spending any more time with Blaine when he and the boys are in that mode…”

“You mean the ‘Blaine and the Pips’ mode?  Did he jump on lots of furniture while on his Dalton Experience?”

Sebastian laughed. “He did. He talked about half the Warblers with us into nightly ‘shows’ in the lobbies of the hotels we were staying in. It was annoying.  He wouldn’t let the rest of us sing lead, at all.  Wanted it all back to the way it used to be…he is NOT happy about that change to the Warblers at all.  Of course, the demand we NOT have a single lead that sings ALL songs is back to the way the Warblers were traditionally but Blaine only accepts Wes’ years of leadership as true Warbler years.  Nick and Jeff aren’t happy with him.  He kept hitting on one or the other all for the last week or so.”

“Not you?” Kurt sneered.

“Oh, he hit on me. However, I decided at Christmas time that I no longer really wanted to go there…and I’ll go most places.  The third Country Club Christmas party where his mother fawned over me because she thought I was a better option for his boyfriend than you because we are rich and therefore not after Blaine’s family’s money and asked how many children I thought we should have…after forgetting she asked the same things at both the parties before…I was done.  Not to mention, I just can’t see the whole ‘sex-on-a-stick’ that the Warbler guys kept talking about that led me to even approach him in the first place after watching him completely loose it about seeing two men kissing on the dance floor of Scandals the second…or maybe third…time I took him there.  I am sorry, but there is nothing about a public display of affection that cheapens the act…not in a gay bar.  That is supposed to be one of those places it is SAFE to show public displays of affection. Opps…I wasn’t supposed to let you know about other trips to Scandals.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It actually explains some things.”

“So, Lady-Face, why are you out here?” Sebastian asked.

“Find another nickname please.  That one is annoying enough from Santana.”

“How about queenie?”

“Nope…that is Quinn’s.”

“Princess?”

“It could work. You’ll share it with Puck.  That works though, you two have similar reputations. You just have it with guys.  I do hope you at no point prostituted yourself to older men…as craigslist as you are I really do believe you think better of yourself than that.”

“Ahh, you’re so sweet. Answer?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” Kurt said.

“And?”

“I’ve been getting…things…all week.  I thought it was Blaine sending them, even though he hadn’t really texted me or anything. It wasn’t.  I called today.  Nothing, it went to voice mail.  I emailed him, I texted him.  I sent him Valentine’s treats…picked with him in mind. I was pulling out to head home when they all pulled in and so I parked again where I could watch and think.  Do you know what he got me for Christmas? He made me a ring out of gum wrappers…Said sweet words which he very promptly ignored and didn’t follow through with keeping. I worked extra shifts to buy him a suit he said he wanted and several bowties to match and gave it to him early when he complained about not having anything to wear over the holiday season.  Then I bought him a scarf and mitten and hat set for Christmas itself when he complained he wouldn’t have anything to open for Christmas.”

“You bought him that black suit with the gunmetal pinstripes?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt nodded.

“I thought the taste put into that suit was above his level to achieve.  His parent’s made him wear it everywhere.  Of course, I was privileged to see what HE picked out for a Christmas suit on when he came to the Dalton Winter Fun Fest. It was bright red with a pine green vest and he wore it with a bright yellow shirt.”

Kurt looked at Sebastian horrified.

“I kid you not, I will send photos.” Sebastian said.

“Dalton had a Winter Fun Fest?” Kurt asked.

“They have one every year.”

“And yet another thing I was never invited to or informed of.  I wonder who was responsible for it that time…Blaine or Wes.  I made Wes mad once and would have missed the Career Day if I hadn’t heard a teacher talk about it before class and asked.  If that was around the same time it could have been Wes’s fault. But it is mostly likely Blaine’s.  He was very much against me associating with the general population of Dalton. I just didn’t realize it until I was looking for ways out already.”

“I would make a bet on Blaine. You baked him cookies and bought him a box of chocolates and a new bowtie for Valentine’s Day, right?”

Kurt nodded.

Sebastian snorted. “He brought both the cookies and chocolates to the Warbler practice this afternoon and was wearing the tie.”

Kurt sighed. “Of course he did.”

“Why do you put up with this kind of stuff?” Sebastian asked. The question was soft and serious and so un-Sebastian in tone that Kurt paused.

“I don’t know. I was so lonely without him, before him, maybe I’m afraid of being that lonely again.”

“Were you always though? And are you really any less lonely now?”

“Huh?”

“Jeff said not very long ago that you came to Dalton because of extreme bullying which had culminated in a death threat…less than two months after your dad had had a heart attack.”

“Yes.”

“And he said it didn’t sound like you had help from your friends at all during that whole time?”

Kurt nodded. “He called the situation well.”

“Kurt, those periods in life magnify loneliness.  The fear of a family member dying, the fear of extreme bullying…even surrounded by friends who were actively helping you you would have felt lonely.  I know from talking to the other guys Blaine kept you isolated while at Dalton.  Are you really less lonely now?”

Kurt leaned his head against the headrest of his car seat and closed his eyes. Leave it to Sebastian to ask the hard questions.

“I don’t know.”

They sat for a few minutes before Sebastian spoke again. “Let’s have some fun.”

Kurt looked over at him. “What kind?”

Sebastian laughed. “God you sounded so dubious of my suggestion there. Clean fun tonight, baby cakes. I have an extra Dalton Uniform tucked in my trunk. You put it on, mess your hair a bit so it doesn’t scream Kurt Hummel so much, and we go join the masses of boys at your little friend’s party there.  I even have some glasses that are just plain lenses. I use them when I don’t want my step-mother to realize I went and bought myself contacts after all.  I’ll treat you to dinner and we can tear apart everyone around us.  I have heard you have quite the bite…even when you aren’t talking to me.”

“A masquerade.” Kurt said.

“Paper faces on parade.” Sebastian replied.

Kurt chuckled. “Oh Look. You are a gay boy.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “So?”

Kurt shrugged. “Why not? It has to be better than being alone thinking tonight.”

Sebastian went to his car and retrieved a garment bag with the extra uniform in it and Kurt changed in the back of his SUV.  After Kurt finally let Sebastian mess his hair up enough to look like a ‘real boy’ and popped on the glasses, he was declared as looking not ‘Kurt’ enough to go in.

Snarking with Sebastian seemed to be what Kurt needed.  Sebastian appreciated the irony of the ‘God Squad’ being led by a girl who got pregnant while head of the chastity club by cheating on her boyfriend with his best friend and who tossed the biggest fit when Kurt said he was an atheist. He had no problems listening to Kurt’s gripe about the whole ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ restaurant allowing Joe with the Jesus tattoos to run around barefoot as long as he didn’t try buying anything.  Sebastian snarked right back about Finn and Rachel and their behavior in public (and was just as horrified as Kurt at the thought of them getting married soon), Blaine and his behavior that evening and none of Kurt’s friends saying anything about it, and the entirety of Sugar Motta.  Kurt stuck to drinks and fries since he had eaten between Dave’s appearance and Sugar’s Party, but Sebastian ate while they snarked. It was oddly enjoyable.

Kurt thought he was sunk when Blaine came dancing by, trying to get Sebastian to join him prancing about. Blaine didn’t even recognize him.  Blaine stood there for ten minutes whining at Sebastian and didn’t recognize his boyfriend sitting next to the other boy.

Kurt wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it hurt and it wasn’t good.

“You want to leave?” Sebastian asked as soon as Blaine stomped off.

Kurt looked around. “How about some cheesecake?”

Their cheesecake had just arrived when Jeff and Nick found Sebastian.

“Sebastian! I thought you’d left after Ricky and John came in without you.” Nick said as he bounced up to their table. “Oh, Hi, Kurt!”

“I thought Blaine said you weren’t here?” Jeff said pulling up a chair and joining them. “Oh! Cheesecake! Are you two planning on eating the whole thing yourself?”

“Help yourself to some.” Kurt said.

“I thought Blaine was over here not long ago?” Nick said.  “Why are you still sitting here with Sebastian?”

“I thought you and Sebastian hated each other?  Blaine said you hated each other.” Jeff said.

“Blaine is blind.” Kurt said.

“No.  The slushy didn’t have any lasting effect on his eyesight. The doctor assured the Dean of activities of that before the dean would let Blaine come with us on the excursion.” Nick said.

“Oh. Oooohhhhh. Really?” Jeff said.  

Kurt nodded. Sebastian nodded.

“Would sorry be the right thing to say?  Is there a right thing to say?” Jeff said.

“That’s why I bought cheesecake.” Sebastian said.

“I don’t get it.” Nick said.

“Blaine didn’t realize Kurt was sitting here.” Jeff said.

“But…how could he miss it?” Nick asked.

“Because he’s an idiot?” Sebastian said.

“Wait. I’m lost.  I thought you were after Blaine?  Blaine said you were still after him last week.” Nick said.

“I haven’t been after Blaine since before Christmas.  I thought we were friends…just friends.  He’s good company during country club parties and things.”

“But…” Nick said. “God, I’m confused.”

Kurt laughed. “Join the club.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Jeff asked.

“Tonight? Eat Cheesecake. Tomorrow? I don’t know yet.  But I doubt it will be pretty. I’m not in a sweet and gentle mood.” Kurt said.  “I don’t suppose there were any charges of damage at any of those hotels he jumped about in? And you are all too nice of boys to record the foolish behavior.  I suppose though that I might leak to my dad that Blaine and his family had been lying…and to the school. I’d need the itinerary.  I am certain Coach Sue would be able to find enough security footage to prove Blaine was out and about with you and not tucked in some hospital undergoing surgery. His parents signed him out for eye surgery that supposedly happened last week.  Those are enough unexcused absences to create a problem for graduation, possibly.  I wonder how much his daddy is willing to fork over to keep dear Blaine from having to repeat a grade. I wonder if it would be enough for his foray into public schools to be cut short. I wonder what MY dad will get when he brings Blaine’s being able to get out of it up…since he was told he couldn’t even take us out long enough for us to be there when he was sworn in to congress…because we couldn’t miss school for something so frivolous.”

Sebastian started to chuckle while Jeff and Nick looked at Kurt with wide eyes.

“And I’ll make sure it’s known that the Andersons lied to school officials at McKinley about Blaine’s whereabouts.  I know my dad will find it interesting that Mr. and Mrs. Anderson lied instead of just being upfront about their son going on an excursion with another school.” Sebastian said.

Kurt smiled.  “The whole family isn’t very good at the whole ‘don’t create a scene’ thing, are they?”

Nick started to laugh. “You have no idea.  One of these days we have got to sneak you into one of the country club galas.  Mrs. Anderson is very interesting once she has had a few drinks and Mr. Anderson doesn’t drink but likes to make bets and gamble, so he is off within a half hour and just leaves her at it.”

“So…knowing this…is Blaine going to create a huge scene tomorrow for you after missing Valentine’s Day?” Sebastian said.

“Probably.” Nick said. “He likes the attention and it would make him look good.”

“No, he’ll do something small because he’d look silly doing something big after missing the day.” Jeff made his guess.

“I think he won’t do anything.” Kurt said.

“No. he’ll do something, but not tomorrow. Not until he finds out someone else did something for you all week and you thought it was him. I give it two or three days and I bet it will be big, or at least big enough for him to think he out did whatever else you received.”

Kurt tilted his head and watched Blaine singing on stage with Quinn.

“Dinner next weekend,” Kurt said. “If Blaine sings or does anything big to make up for our missed Valentine’s day tomorrow, I’ll pay for Nick.  If it is something small and quiet, I’ll pay for Jeff and if it is later than tomorrow I’ll pay for Sebastian.”

“And if he doesn’t do anything we’ll take you out.” Sebastian said.

“But that will be right after regionals.” Nick said.

“So?” Kurt said. “Unlike most my glee club I can manage rational thoughts.  I wish you well.  I’d almost like to see you smear us into the ground. Rachel didn’t get to sing in sectionals and so is the focus except when she has to give it up.  I’ll be swaying in the background again, like always, because I’m not one of the guys and I’m not a girl.  She’s even slated Blaine for a solo section even though he missed the last three weeks.”

“You know,” Sebastian said. “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing, not really.”

“No?” Nick said.

“No.  I saw Blaine because he was you guys soloist, and I know Kurt sang a duet with him for your regionals last year, but no one showed me a copy of that.”

“Eh.  It wasn’t what it should have been.  Blaine got Oscar to arrange it for his voice and to make sure Kurt’s voice wasn’t in a sweet spot.” Jeff said. “If you want to hear Kurt, you need to watch Trent’s copy of Blackbird.”

“No.  Flint’s copy of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.  Or the one we found of Le Jazz Hot.” Nick said.

“You have a copy of Le Jazz Hot?” Kurt said.  “I’d like that sent my way.  I am rather proud of that performance.”

“Somehow Stevie gets copies of things you guys do.” Nick said.  ��The things the cheerleaders do, too. I haven’t sat down to watch the cheer ones though.  Stevie keeps saying we really should.  He also keeps saying we were all stupid.”

“Please ignore all of those from spring two years ago.” Kurt said.

“Kurtie’s hiding something.” Sebastian added in a sing songy tone.

Kurt flipped him off.

“Oh, now I know we need to see those.”

“No, you don’t.  I looked absolutely ridiculous in that uniform and I had not had my growth spurt yet…not really.  I was just starting it.”

“You were a cheerleader?” Jeff squealed.

“Yes. We won Nationals.” Kurt said.

“I’m messaging Steve. Maybe he can email all of it to us.” Nick said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Look what you started.” He said to Sebastian.

Sebastian laughed.

Kurt sighed. “I am giving you permission now to make fun of my looks then, but I will not accept teasing names based on those looks.  I no longer look like a 12 yr old milk maid, thank you very much.”

Sebastian nodded. “If you catch me teasing you using those years, I give you permission to make me show you pictures of me two years ago as well and you can tease me about those.  Even living in Paris couldn’t erase the horrors of puberty looks.”

“Deal.” Kurt replied.

“Oh My God.” Nick said, staring at his phone. “Your voice and face at the front of this Born This Way performance is just...wow.  We might have been stupid.  Stevie might be right.”

“Hey, make sure you save those so I can watch later.” Sebastian said.

“I am never going to live any of that down.  I can tell.” Kurt said.

Sebastian laughed. “Do you really want to?”

Kurt shrugged.  “Some are more embarrassing than others, but I guess everyone’s life is like that.”

“No, some of us are perfect.” Sebastian deadpanned for all of about ten seconds before breaking a smile. “You ok?  Seriously?”

Kurt nodded. “Thanks. Never thought I’d say this but I’m glad to have spent the evening with you.”

Sebastian smiled. “Call if you need me, got it.  I’m sure Nick and Jeff agree.”

Kurt nodded.

Before the week was finished Kurt had called Sebastian over a hundred times…and Nick and Jeff nearly as often.  Kurt had met Sebastian dad, and Jeff’s folks.  And Dave Karofsky was at Dalton. Dinner was held with Dave invited as well and everyone just paid for their own dinner. Kurt and Blaine had broken up within two days, so although neither Nick nor Jeff had won the bet, Sebastian’s theory hadn’t had time to come to pass.  It was fine though.  Their tentative friendship had been tossed in bud form into an inferno and only come out stronger.  Dave and Sebastian knocked sense into Kurt about universities and applications and managed to get several more out before their cut off dates for fall applications. Dave and Sebastian’s dad, of all people, helped him fill out his CV for them and Kurt realized that what he had listed…with Blaine’s and Rachel’s help for NYADA… was incomplete and inadequate and dealt much more with keeping an image (in Blaine’s case) and not looking very Diverse (In Rachel’s sake) under the guise of keeping it to topic. He also went to Coach Sylvester for a reference letter and Cassius, the co-owner of the garage.  He sent those and an amended CV to NYADA.  Although McKinley won regionals, Kurt felt like Dalton had been the true winners of the competition. Or maybe Dave.  Or Maybe even Sebastian.  His speech between songs about bullying and hate and fear left more than Kurt in tears. The money Dalton raised was used to start programs in the middle schools in several towns, including Lima and Westerville. Kurt knew it made a difference, at least for some kids.  It had made a huge difference watching the growth in them all for him.

Kurt had nightmares for years, waking in a panic covered with sweat, about what would have happened if Kurt hadn’t been on the outs with Blaine and thus had felt the need to listen when Blaine said to ignore Dave’s calls so he could spare Blaine’s feelings. Of what would have happened if Kurt hadn’t responded immediately to Dave’s social media and if Sebastian hadn’t responded immediately to Dave’s social media and gotten his father involved. Of what might have happened if they hadn’t been over when Dave’s mother found out and hadn’t been there with him still and waited until Dave’s dad got home.

But he had been on the outs with Blaine and He had been there to help Dave as he dealt with the fallout of the guys in his new school finding out his sexuality.  He and Sebastian had been able to talk to Dave’s dad and keep Dave’s mom from ranting at him too much before his dad got home. And Sebastian’s dad and Kurt’s dad had got Dave into Dalton for the last few months, where he wasn’t harassed and got counseling to help with his feelings after everything and who helped him deal with issues surrounding Universities and his other school’s response to Dave and the issues of their students against him.  And Dalton backing someone had a lot more clout then Kurt ever realized.  Kurt wished Dave had transferred to Dalton instead of him, because at Dalton Dave made friends. He had friends in every class in the student body and amongst the staff. Kurt was in awe and Sebastian just teased him because he was certain Kurt didn’t realize at all that certain staff members still talked about the boy, as did a few other students.

Kurt ended up at NYU, so he could double major in Musical theater and Costume and design and get in a healthy dose of fashion design as well.  It had been Dave’s and Sebastian’s dad’s idea and Kurt LOVED it.  It took less than two weeks of school and watching the Broadway Wannabe blogs and other drama student blogs to realize that NYADA with Rachel would have been a mistake.  She treated the school like she had high school glee club and already had a reputation for tossing tantrums when she wasn’t praised. Unfortunately she had enough teachers treating her like a queen to not allow those who didn’t to have any good effect on the girl.  But Kurt was just far enough away and Rachel was still mad at him so he wasn’t dragged into the drama.

Sebastian joined him at NYU a year later, but they didn’t go out on their first date for another year after that, even though all their friends insisted that they had been dating since the second weekend Sebastian got to New York and just hadn’t realized it. Dave teased them all the time about it. He ended up with a guy who grew up in Montana and Idaho and had come back east to ‘get some peace’ about his sexuality...and play hockey.  They both ended up unable to play before their college careers were finished because of injuries.  Patrick, Dave’s partner, ended up being a sportscaster and Dave ended up running a scouting agency. Kurt teased him, especially after the guys ended up giving Dave’s dad grand-babies, and several at that, after all when their surrogate had triplets.

Jeff and Nick teased all of them, because they called the domestic bliss they would all find way back the first week Dave was at Dalton and the others laughed at them.  Kurt just smiled as Sebastian signed them up for minding their tots, which are only a year apart so ‘close enough’ to twins to count in Dave’s and Jeff’s book.

[ao3feed-kurthummel]

A Howlin’ Good Time

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bcFGon

by pixiealtaira

Prompt 3: Werewolves

Fun at the Zoo.

Words: 4004, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Kurtoberfest 2016

Fandoms: Glee

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kurt Hummel, Elliott "Starchild" Gilbert

Additional Tags: Friendship

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bcFGon This is an automatic feed of all new stories posted to the Kurt Hummel tag on AO3. Because of that, it is not guaranteed that Kurt is the main character in the story. There is also no judgment made as to ships, length, or warnings. Please verify content upon clicking through to AO3.

[vcg73]

God, yes. During Kurtoberfest 2015 I actually answered every single prompt for all 31 days, plus a bonus fic!

I’ve gotten through October 2015 in my “save interesting stuff from this blog” project, you know, for when tumblr completely implodes or I get kicked off for  some reason or whatever. Anyway, this means I just went through the first kurtoberfest, and the start of the cali experiment, and oh how amazing it was. So much writing, and so many amazing fics and comments, and I really miss it. Considering most fics were written and posted the same day the quality is mind-blowing. Also, I wrote some really good stories for that.

[ao3feedkurtbastian]

On Repeat

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2mFZuK5

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)

Sebastian is trying his hand at being Kurt's "friend", and even though Kurt's not entirely thrilled by the idea, he's willing to give it a try. It may be the most important decision of Kurt's life ... and the most devastating decision of Sebastian's.

Words: 3882, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 39 of Kurtoberfest 2015

Fandoms: Glee

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kurt Hummel, Sebastian Smythe, Other(s)

Relationships: Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, High School, Angst, Sexual Assault, Mutual Non-Con, Mention of gun violence, mention of hospitals, Violence, Drama

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2mFZuK5

[vcg73]

Kurtoberfest Fic: Tick o Tweet

I decided to do a one-off in my Bus Boy ‘verse for today’s prompt. If you haven’t read the AU, all you need to know is that Kurt is the divorced father of a two year old named Austen, and Adam is a pediatrician whom Kurt is also dating.

A little sweet, a little silly. Just a fun Halloween fic. :)

Kurtoberfest Prompt #7: Candy/Trick or Treating

Pair: Kadam

~*~*~*~*~*~

A knock sounded at the front door. Kurt was narrowly beaten to the door by a small running boy, who held up a plastic jack-o-lantern and hopefully inquired, “Tick o Tweet?”

Kurt laughed. “Not quite yet, sweetie. And that’s what you say tonight when someone opens the door for you, not when you open the door for them.”

Austen pondered this statement a moment, then yelled, “Come in!”

His father laughed again, unlocking the door and peeking out to confirm the identity of his expected visitor before opening it all the way. “Hi, Adam. Hang on a second and let me drop the chain.”

“Thank you,” Adam said, waving his fingertips at Austen, who was peering around his father’s legs. “And just so we’re clear, I distinctly heard myself being invited inside, so no complaints if I happen to start nibbling your neck.”

As Kurt got the door free and opened it the rest of the way, he realized what Adam meant. He was dressed as a traditional vampire, with what appeared to be a black tuxedo covered by a high-collared black silk cape with red lining. His blond hair had been slicked down tight and coated in some sort of spray-on black dye. His lips were bright red and there was an artistic dribble of blood painted down one side of his chin to complement the dark circles under his eyes.

“You look great, Count,” Kurt told him, pecking him carefully one under shadowed cheekbone. He had never been fond of vampires, finding them disgusting and scary, but tonight was Halloween and allowances could be made. Besides, Adam really did make a handsome Dracula.

Austen, always on the hunt for his favorite candies from the friendly pediatrician, held up his little bucket and hopefully inquired again, “Tick o Tweet?”

Not one to disappoint, Adam dramatically lifted one side of his cape up to cover his nose and mouth, then flipped it back with a flourish that would have done a toreador proud and revealed a handful of lollipops in his other hand. “Don’t eat them all at once,” he warned as he dropped the candy into the plastic bucket. “I would be a very poor doctor indeed if I gave my favorite patient a stomach ache for Halloween.”

The boy nodded and pulled out a single sucker, showing it to his dad. “Hippo?”

The lollipop was not actually one of the animal shaped ones from Adam’s office. Just a regular old ‘dum dum’ mini pop, but in the 2 year old’s mind, any candy that came from Adam was automatically associated with his favorite treat.

“Why don’t you save it until after dinner,” Kurt told him. “We need to finish our dinner, and go put our costumes on.  Then we can go out and trick or treat with Adam.”

Austen beamed at the reminder that there would be more candy to come. It was doubtful that he remembered last year’s adventure, which had mostly consisted of sleeping on Kurt’s shoulder while Blaine went door to door in his white spangled Elvis costume and performed for candy, but hopefully this time he was old enough for the holiday to seem like fun.

“So, what are your costumes?” Adam asked curiously, opening his mouth and popping his plastic fangs out so that he could join them for a delicious repast of chicken tenders and mini tater tots. “You wouldn’t tell me on the phone.”

Kurt handed him the bowl of tater crowns, offering a bottle of ketchup with an inquiring look. Adam nodded and accepted both. Kurt put a slab of breaded chicken on Austen’s plastic Puppy Pals plate and sliced it into small bites for him, then added a few crowns when Adam exchanged serving dishes with him.

“That’s because Austen wanted it to be a surprise,” Kurt said, smiling and stroking a hand over the little boy’s curly hair as he watched him stab a chicken bit and lift it to his wide open mouth with both hands. He was really getting very good at using child-sized utensils.

“Ah, I see. I’m here now, though. Won’t you give me a hint?” Adam said, dabbing a potato into the small pool of ketchup on his plate and eating it, then repeating the process for Austen when he noticed his interest.

Kurt squeezed a blob of Heinz onto his son’s plate, knowing that if he did not, his boyfriend would soon be sharing his entire dinner. He helped Austen spear another piece of chicken and dabbed it lightly into the condiment, giving him a nod when he caught on and immediately sailed back in for another, bigger serving. Austen loved ketchup on just about anything.

“Nope,” he told Adam. “If I gave you a hint, it would give it away. I think you’ll like it, though. And he and I are sort of a set, so I can’t tell you mine either.”

“Can’t wait,” Adam told him.

As they finished off their simple meal, Adam offered to do the few dishes while Kurt took Austen back to get washed up and into his costume. The stylish vampire took off his cape and pulled a pair of pink rubber gloves on over his hands to protect both his pointy black fingernails and the pristine white cuffs of his shirt. 

A few minutes later, dishes done and costume restored to its former glory, Adam sat in the living room, patiently waiting for his surprise. He idly flipped through a fashion magazine, knowing that getting a toddler dressed always took a bit of extra time, especially since he would probably be wanting to ‘help’ Kurt with his own preparations.

Finally, the two Hummels returned, walking hand in hand. Adam clapped his hands, grinning broadly enough to show off his restored fangs as he beheld a miniature physician in khaki pants, a blue button down shirt, a long tie covered with tiny zoo animals, and a white lab coat. Austen had a little plastic stethoscope tied around his neck and a knitted beanie hat on his head, and he was wearing the hand puppet Kurt had given him for his birthday.

“Oh, my goodness,” Adam said, kneeling down to get a better look. “Are you supposed to be me?”

Austen snapped the little dragon puppet’s mouth at him and grinned. “Austen is Pup-doc!”

“So you are!  Well, you look very smart indeed, Doctor Hummel. And this must be your lovely nurse.”

He nodded and smiled up at Kurt, who was dressed in a pair of cheerful blue nursing scrubs over a gray winter-weight turtleneck. There were zoo animals on the smock that closely matched his son’s tie. In fact, the two looked to have been made from the same piece of material.

“Kurt, did you sew these?” Adam asked in astonishment.

“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “I used to make my own clothes all the time when I was in my teens. I had some designer knock-offs that even an expert wouldn’t have been able to tell from the real thing without a close examination. How do you think I originally got the gig at Vogue.”

Adam shook his head in admiration. “You never fail to astonish me. Did you have this cloth already, or did you purchase it especially for tonight?”

“Oh, I had a set of Austen’s old crib sheets that were practically new since he graduated to the big-boy bed right after I got them, so I recycled them into something new. He likes your collection of fun ties, and I knew anything I could find in a store was going to be too big, so . . . out came the sewing machine.”

“I love it,” Adam said, addressing Austen but speaking to them both. “And look how intelligent I’ll be, traveling in the company of someone who can manage a transfusion any time I happen to be running low tonight.”

Kurt laughed. Tugging the collar of his turtle-neck up a bit higher he said, “Don’t get any ideas, Drac.”

“Ah well,” he teased. “Perhaps I’ll get lucky and find something tastier to suck tonight after our scary movie.”

“Adam!” Kurt hissed, blushing and looking down at his son, who smiled back at him, happily oblivious to their exchange.

With a show of equal innocence, Adam produced another lollipop from inside his jacket pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “What? Did you think I meant something else?”

Kurt smacked him lightly with Austen’s plastic trick-or-treat bucket. “Just for that, you get to carry the jack o lantern. And I hope he collects lots of candy so that it gets really, really heavy.”

Chortling at this so-called threat, given that the pail was only about as large as a child’s head, Adam just swung the little jack-o-lantern from his fingertips, taking Austen’s puppet laden hand with the other. “Shall we, then?”

“Tick o Tweet!” Austen yelled happily, excited to be setting out at last. He practically dragged the two men outside, barely holding back his impatience long enough for his father to lock the door behind them. “Austen gets candy!”

Kurt and Adam shared a grin, both loving how like a real family they seemed as they began their journey within the apartment building, knocking on any door that brandished a paper pumpkin on it to show that the home was open for Halloween business.

He was shy and hung back at the first couple of places, leaving Adam and Kurt to say Trick or Treat and hold out the candy bucket for him, but soon Austen got the hang of things. Soon he was happily leading the way from place to place, leaving Vampire Adam and Nurse Kurt to hold hands as they trailed along, close enough to guard the small doctor but far enough back to let him have his fun.

Other children from the building soon joined them, as well as a couple of additional parents. All of them received compliments on their holiday spirit from the adults who had not worn costumes. The party eventually moved outside and hit up the next building, and the next.

There weren’t a lot of individual houses in this area, but the neighborhood had many children so the community had agreed to a sort of block party. It was a rite that dated back far past Kurt’s residence here, but he had loved it when his landlady first told him about the tradition. That community spirit had been one of the things that sold him on moving here.

“This is so much fun!” Adam observed, ducking sideways to avoid a few little goblins dashing the opposite direction. “By the time my parents divorced and mum moved back to the States, I felt a bit too old for going door to door, and my Dad’s little village just outside Essex didn’t really embrace this day until just a few years back. There were parties in my teens, of course, but this is my first time doing a proper child’s Halloween celebration.”

Kurt squeezed his hand. “I’m so glad we were able to share ours with you then,” he said happily. “This is the best Halloween I’ve had in a long time. We used to have parties and go trick-or-treating when I was in Lima, but it’s different somehow when you’re with a group of excited little kids.”

“Especially when one is your own,” Adam observed.

“Or one you love like your own,” Kurt said, knowing that it was true. And the feeling was mutual. Austen, even in the midst of his fun, would look back every so often to check that they were both still with him and smile when he saw that they were. “Thanks for coming with us tonight.”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t have missed it.” Raising his voice a bit to be heard above the murmuring of other conversations, he said, “What do you say we cross over to the next block and visit that brownstone with the jack-o-lanterns? I heard one of those lads who just passed us say that they have jumbo Hershey bars!”

The children cheered shrilly and made an immediate bee-line for the house of generous candy givers. An actual bee-line, given that their leader was a little girl in a stuffed fleece bumblebee costume.

“You’re going to go trick-or-treat one for yourself, aren’t you?” Kurt chuckled. Catching Adam’s sly wink, he laughed harder.

“I’ll give you half,” Adam offered.

Still grinning, Kurt shook his head. “No thanks. I’m going to be bouncing off the walls tonight as it is.”

“You do appear to be a bit flushed. Perhaps I’d better take your vitals when we return,” Adam murmured, waggling his decoratively darkened eyebrows and licking his fang tips when Kurt giggled at the suggestive tone. “I believe I will prescribe you a cup of tea and a nice hot doctor.”

“Good thing I happen to have both of those things,” Kurt said airily. “But for now, I think we’d better go keep an eye on your little doppelganger. That house you suggested belongs to old Mrs. Winslow, and even without a costume she finds my son charming enough that she may give him enough candy to keep him going until next Halloween.”

Adam laughed heartily. “Well in that case, I think we definitely both need to join him. Let’s go!”

Building to building and house to house Kurt, Adam, and Austen traveled, until Austen’s candy bucket was practically bursting at the seams. By the time they finished the neighborhood circuit, Austen was once again being carried in his father’s arms, sound asleep, with one thumb happily planted in his mouth. Adam walked next to them carrying the bucket, the dragon, and the beanie, which had fallen off somewhere around the halfway point.

Austen barely stirred as he was brought home, bathed, changed, and put to bed surrounded by his favorite stuffed animals. Kurt and Adam separated all of the candy, checking for broken wrappers, then shared a long shower; most of which Kurt spent scrubbing black goop out of his boyfriend’s hair.

“Uh, Adam?” he said as they exited the shower stall and vigorously fluffed each other with dry towels.

“Yes?” he asked, reaching for a pair of the pajama pants and a tshirt that he had taken to leaving over at Kurt’s place. It was still early and they had made plans to cuddle up with some scary (or silly) Halloween movies before bed tonight.

Kurt struggled not to laugh. “Would the other doctors at the clinic object if you wore your beanie tomorrow?”

“I should think they’d question it a bit,” he said, looking at him with a puzzled frown. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t think whatever hair dye you chose was meant to be used on blond hair.”

Adam quickly moved to look in the mirror. Clearing away the gathered steam, he gaped at himself. “Oh good lord. I haven’t been this color since I was a lad and used to spend entire summers at the community swimming pool!”

Kurt lost his battle, snickering and snorting into his palm as he beheld his boyfriend’s bronze-green head. “I’m sure it will wash out with a few more tries. Do you want to try again while I go pick out a movie?”

He sighed and brushed a hand through the damp strands. “I suppose I’d better. If it doesn’t help, at least the children will be amused. Though I’m sure you can’t feel very enthusiastic about shagging a shrub.”

“Oh, I think I can manage,” he said. Stepping forward, he kissed Adam sweetly. “You still fulfill my prescription for a hot doctor, after all. I’ll just have to have a cup of green tea with the dose.”

Adam snorted. “Just for that, I’m not sharing my giant chocolate bar.”

“Greedy,” he teased.

Ignoring his ridiculous head for a moment, Adam pulled his grinning boyfriend close and treated him to a kiss that took Kurt’s breath away. Turning the water back on, he pulled Kurt towards the stall. “Trick or treat.”

The End

[lady--divine]

Kurtoberfest Drabble - “Adam’s Wish” (Rated T)

Adam gets the exciting opportunity to travel to America as a foreign exchange student, chasing his dream of someday being on Broadway. It turns out to be a little less than stellar when he ends up in Lima, Ohio. One night, he stumbles across the chance to get everything he ever wanted, but he has faith that he’ll get to Broadway on his own. When it boils down to it, all he really wants, for the moment, is a friend.

Really super late for the Kurtoberfest prompt ‘fairies’.

Adam Crawford had a dream – one that he couldn’t pursue in Essex. He had kept it mostly to himself, but as time passed, and he couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore. He had dreamt most of his young life of becoming a star on the Broadway stage, and there was only one place in the world where he’d be able to do that.

New York City.

He applied to be a foreign exchange student, but being underage, he needed both his parents’ permission, and that was where he got stuck.

Adam’s mother wasn’t thrilled about her son’s dream of becoming an actor. She wanted Adam to attend Oxford. She had planned on it since the day she found out she was pregnant. Adam knew that. She didn’t keep it a secret. He remembered, from a young age, her putting him to bed at night with tales of how he would graduate at the head of his class, and how accomplished he would be. Adam would do anything to make his mother proud, but Oxford wasn’t his dream; it was hers. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother, but he knew that if he didn’t give Broadway a go, he’d regret it till his dying day.

He only had this one life, and he had to live it for himself. No one else.

As chance would have it, the stage had been his father’s dream, too – long lost, mostly due to pressure from his parents to find a sensible career and start a family before they passed. But he didn’t want that for his son. He didn’t want Adam to settle into someone else’s plan for what he should do, who he should become. He wanted Adam to dream big, live big, and be big. If he couldn’t have his dream of stardom, he wanted Adam to pursue his. Adam’s dad did research, and found a program that would suit Adam, but it was Adam’s good grades, his charm, and his talent that got him accepted. Becoming a foreign exchange student and moving to America for his last two years of school before university seemed too good to be true, but when he found out he’d be able to go to the states earlier – right at the start of American “high school” – he was ecstatic.

Just as his mother’s final plea for Adam to consider Oxford over Broadway died a painful death, Adam boarded a plane bound for the states.

Adrenaline had Adam buzzing the entire flight, keeping him awake the twelve plus hours it took to get from Southend Municipal Airport to Port Columbus, Ohio. But the second he felt his plane touch down on foreign soil, he began to panic.

He was alone, in an airport, at three thirty in the morning, thousands of miles away from everyone and everything he’d ever known. It was thrilling, but terrifying, too. He had a new life waiting for him outside the airport doors, and he didn’t know where to begin.

His host family - the Fabrays – told him not to worry. They assured him that McKinley was a good school, with plenty of opportunities for him to become active in extracurriculars and make friends. They promised that they would do everything within their power to make him feel at home. The one piece of advice they seemed to enjoy repeating was, “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” followed cheerfully by the acknowledgement that everything was small stuff. It was even printed on a poster in the hallway, framed and hung between the living room and the downstairs bathroom.

Quinn Fabray, who promised to show him the ropes at McKinley, told Adam that he would have more friends by the end of day one than he could handle. Everyone would flock to him because he’d be the ‘exotic new kid’. They’d adore his hair, his clothes, and everyone would think his accent was to die for.

And they did.

Which turned into an endless stream of people asking him to say stuff, just so they could hear his accent. It started on the bus on the way to school, and got annoying after an hour.

It took barely a week for the excitement of being an exchange student to wear thin. A big part of that had to do with the fact that he wasn’t living in New York or L.A. like he had dreamed, but in the middle of Ohio, in some town called Lima. Adam had only ever associated the word ‘lima’ with sickly green beans, so off the bat, not a feel-good reference.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers. Ohio was fine for now. It was still America, after all, and close enough to New York that he could save up his money and take the train there on special occasions. But nothing exciting ever happened in Lima. No sizzle. No magic. He didn’t work hard to escape the boredom of one small town to end up in another boring small town. It seemed kind of cruel that he should end up here.

He was so close, yet so far away.

Adam’s father, living vicariously through him, advised him to be patient, that he had time to get to Broadway, but Adam didn’t like the “hurry up and wait” mentality. He had gotten to America. That was the first part of the plan completed. He wanted to be on stage now. Other teenagers in America were already making names for themselves on Broadway, while he was stuck joining some club called 4-H to fulfill an agriculture requirement he didn’t know he needed. There were so many prime roles for young people his age that he was ready to tackle, musicals he would give his left leg to sing just chorus in – Newsies, Les Mis, Spring Awakening.

Maybe a little more off-putting was the fact that small towns like Lima came with small town mentalities, and because of that, he had little in common with anyone. Once the shine rubbed off from his being the new kid from England, he became rather lonely. There was one other exchange student attending McKinley, but she came from Taiwan and didn’t speak English. They only saw each other once, at a ‘Welcome to America’ lunch the school district hosted. It was super awkward – just him and her, the student body president, the school counselor, a few of the teachers and administrators, and the superintendent. A reporter from the local newspaper stopped by, asked for the correct spelling of their names, and snapped a picture.

That was it.

Fun.

He still got the odd, ridiculous question, like what was it like living in Narnia? Had he ever met the Queen? What was Ringo Starr like in person? (That one came from a teacher.) Since the performing arts program he had joined wasn’t part of McKinley, but Dalton Academy in Westerville (nearly two hours away), Adam didn’t spend a lot of time with the kids from school. McKinley had no theater program, and the musical theater kids from Westerville were…well, they were kind of full of themselves.

Quinn stopped by his room every so often to see how he was getting on. She was a sweet girl, easy to talk to, but she was also uber-popular – head cheerleader, dating the quarterback of the football team, president of her church’s youth group, and a straight A student, poised to graduate early and go to Princeton, or Yale.

They didn’t have much in common, either.

By the time he retired for the night, when practice was over and his homework done, he laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep so he could wake up in the morning and do it all over again. He didn’t mind the exhaustion. It meant he worked hard, working toward his goal, and he had that to be proud of. He just wished he had someone he could share it with, someone who appreciated his passions and interests.

It was Tuesday night, when Quinn had youth group at her church and the Fabrays went along for Bible study, that Adam was lying in bed, perusing the theater kid blogs, searching for advanced notice of any cattle calls going on that weekend. He had the price of a round trip train ticket to New York saved up, and possibly enough to spend on one night in a questionable motel room. He ventured onto Google and did some daydreaming, looking at what it would cost for him to move to New York, rent an apartment, and go to the top three colleges of his choice.

Still way out of his price range, but as his father kept reminding him, he had time.

A miniscule light blew by from somewhere behind him, its reflection in Adam’s computer screen blinking at him for a second, followed by a sudden flash, then a thud against his closed window.

“What the...” Adam turned around, expecting to see a dazed bird lying on his carpet. Since he’d been in Lima, that had happened to him twice. Quinn told him that some of the sparrows fly in on the colder nights, lured by the light, and become confused, so he started closing his window right before sunset.

Which he had.

This bird didn’t try to get into his room and smack the glass from the outside.

It was already inside his room, and was trying to get out.

Adam approached the bird cautiously. He’d been nipped by three of these creatures already. He didn’t want to get bitten again. But the closer he got to the animal, he realized it wasn’t a bird at all.

What lay on his floor, shaking its head, was more fantastic than any bird.

“It can’t be,” Adam whispered, looking at the tiny boy lying face down on his carpet - a tiny boy with wings. Which could only mean one thing.

This boy, with wings that glittered like gold, throwing highlights off his sweep of chestnut hair and shimmers across his pale skin, had to be a fairy. If he wasn’t three inches tall, Adam would say that the boy looked about his age – 13, maybe 14 years old.

Adam acted quick, picking the boy up in his cupped hands while he was still knocked silly, and holding him, pinching his wings carefully between his thumb and forefinger. His father had read him stories about fairies, and according to the tales and the legends, this was how you needed to capture one when you found it.

Supposedly, capturing a fairy brought the finder luck, and boy, could Adam use a bit of that right now.

The fairy started to come around, blinking blue eyes and staring into the human face peering at him over the edge of large hands. The fairy looked stunned for a second, then immediately irate when he realized he couldn’t move his wings.

“I demand that you let me go this instant!” the fairy said, kicking his heel into the palm of Adam’s hand.

“Oh. Okay,” Adam said, startled by the fairy’s forcefulness. Perhaps he hadn’t thought this thru. He didn’t want to stir up the fairy’s ire and fall victim to his magic. He might end up with a second head, or changed into a toad. But right before he opened the window, it hit him.

Magic.

Fairy magic.

“Wait a second” - Adam looked at the fairy trapped in his hands - “I caught you. That means you have to grant me one wish, or become my servant forever.”

“Where in the world did you hear that tripe?” the fairy asked, turning up his nose, but Adam simply stared, smiling at the fairy boy in his tiny, tailored blue velvet jacket and matching pants. Where a fairy would even get such a suit, Adam didn’t know. But on closer inspection, Adam discovered that the suit was not made of velvet, but of flower petals, expertly crafted to look like clothes. Adam became so fascinated, he almost didn’t hear the fairy relent. “Oh, alright,” the fairy said. “You caught me. I’ll grant you one wish.” The fairy crossed his arms over his chest, looking extraordinarily put off. “So what so you want? Money?”

“Money?” Adam quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s a pretty standard wish request,” the fairy explained. “A lot of people wish for money.”

“Oh, yes,” Adam agreed, “I guess money would be a very good thing to wish for. Money would get me to New York, and to Broadway, and I could start living out my dream.”

“Yup, I figured.” The fairy stretched out his arms, wiggling his fingers, preparing to grant Adam’s wish. “Now, just say the magic words.”

“But…money seems like too common a thing to waste a fairy wish on,” Adam considered thoughtfully.

The fairy looked at him and smiled, immediately impressed.

“Very good,” the fairy said. “Yes, you could wish for money, but money’s all around. You have a better chance of becoming a millionaire through regular means than you do of finding a fairy again, so…think very hard, and come up with something unique.”

It didn’t take Adam too long to come up with a better request.

“I’m not too sure you’d think it a much better wish, but I…I want a friend,” Adam said sadly.

“A friend?” the fairy repeated with a curious tilt of his head.

“Yes,” Adam said.

“But, don’t you have friends at school?”

“No,” Adam said. “Not really. There are people who talk to me, and they acted like they liked me when I first got here, I guess, but now, they don’t seem…I don’t know…real? I want a real friend. One who’ll hang out with me, and take the time to get to know me. One who, maybe, understands what I’m going thru.”

The fairy looked at Adam and nodded in sympathy. “And…you’re sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” Adam said without hesitation. “That’s what I wish.”

“Alright. You’ve made your wish, now set me free.”  

Adam raised a skeptical eyebrow, but he was more sad than suspicious. He didn’t know what to expect. Would he let the fairy go, and a friend would just appear? Or was this all a ploy to get Adam to set him free? A fairy wish couldn’t conjure him a friend…could it?

“I’ll work on it for you,” the fairy promises. “Now, please, set me free.”

“Alright.” Adam opened his window, and let the fairy go, watching him fly into the dark night, with no hope of ever seeing the tiny creature again.

***

The following morning, it was business as usual for Adam. He didn’t know what to believe about his encounter with the fairy last night. Was there even a fairy, or did his mind make it up as a way to cope with all the things that had been bothering him that he felt he couldn’t talk about? He hadn’t told his host family because he didn’t want to seem ungrateful, and he dared not tell his parents because they’re probably send for him straight away. So that had to be it, because fairies didn’t actually exist, and if they did, he had a better chance of seeing one in Essex than he did in Lima.

He made his own lunch in the early morning. He wasn’t too fond of school lunches, and Quinn’s mom, when she made him his lunch, seemed to be under the impression that he favored something called olive loaf, even though she had never asked. He packed up his book bag and headed for the bus. He wasn’t in the mood to be pestered over anything, so with every new kid that arrived, he took a step to the right, ensuring that, even though he was the first person at the bus stop, he was the last one on the bus when it arrived. He found a seat alone and took it, sitting towards the aisle in the hopes that no one would want to join him.

That didn’t exactly work out as well as he planned.

Amidst the normal chatter of kids talking too loud for seven o’clock in the morning, Adam heard a voice break through.

“Excuse me, may I sit here?” a boy asked.

Adam didn’t recognize the voice, but it sounded familiar, like something Adam heard once in a dream or something. It niggled at him, like a jingle he’d heard in the background while something else played, that he didn’t know he knew until he started whistling the tune.

The boy said nothing else, but waited, standing by Adam’s leg, determined to sit beside him, and as Adam wasn’t in the mood to argue, he gave in. He was about to move over when the bus started driving prematurely, and the boy stumbled, grabbing on to Adam’s shoulder for support.

“Oop! I’m sorry about that,” the boy said. “You’d think he could wait another five seconds.”

“Yeah.” Adam looked up at the boy to agree, and to ask if he was all right, but he saw the face looking back at him, and chuckled in surprise. He might have had a hard time placing the voice at first, but the face he would know anywhere. The pale skin, the sweep of chestnut hair, the blue eyes, dressed in a blue velvet blazer and jeans. Take Adam’s fairy from last night and turn him human, and there he was, standing in the aisle, waiting for Adam to scoot over.

“Uh…yeah,” Adam said, putting his backpack in his lap and sliding across the seat. “You’d think.”

“Thank you,” the boy said, and suddenly the voice becomes clearer, unmistakable, smacking Adam like a nudge against the shoulder, shaking him into reality and telling him, “This is him! Without a shadow of a doubt! This is him!”

“Call me Kurt,” the boy said, extending an arm. “And you are?”

“Adam,” Adam said, realizing they hadn’t exchanged names last night.

“Well, Adam,” Kurt said, giving Adam a wink that sent butterflies loose in his stomach, “something tells me we’re going to be the best of friends.”

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtoberfest one-shot - “On Repeat” (NC17)

Sebastian is trying his hand at being Kurt's "friend", and even though Kurt's not entirely thrilled by the idea, he's willing to give it a try. It may be the most important decision of Kurt's life ... and the most devastating decision of Sebastian's. (3923 words)

Rare pair - Kurtbastian

Warning for angst, non-con, violence, gun violence, and hospitalization. Mention of B*laine and K*laine. Not B*laine or K*laine friendly.

Written for the @kurtoberfest prompt "nightmares".

Read on AO3.

“Hummel! Hummel, wait up!”

“Oh, God,” Kurt groans, but slows down a step. If he doesn’t, Sebastian will just run him down, screaming out Kurt’s name, most likely in dirty limerick form, at the top of his lungs the whole way. “What do you want, Sebastian? I’d like to get home.”

“Come on. Don’t you want to stay and hang out with me? Seeing as we’re supposed to be buddy-buddy and all.”

“Look.” Kurt spins around, eyes rolling so hard they catch up a half-second after. Better to get this over and done with now. “I know that Blaine wants us to be “friends” (the air quotes he uses when he says this are epic, the face he makes the height of ridicule), but that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to start tonight. I have a ton of studying to do.”

“But … but …” Sebastian stutters, coming off as if Kurt hurt his feelings. “I thought you liked me for me?”

Sebastian bats his eyelashes. It’s ridiculous and obnoxious, but Kurt has to admit, there’s something cute about it.

Wait … what? No. Ewww! No way. Not Sebastian Smythe. Not with a ten foot pole. Not even with a gun to his head.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Kurt asks, turning back around and starting on his way through the dark parking lot.

“Ouch,” Sebastian says, trotting to keep up.

“Oh, what now!?” Kurt drops his head back on his shoulders and moans plaintively to the moonless sky. Strange that there aren’t any stars out. There are usually hundreds of them out about now. “Are you going to follow me all the way to my Navigator?”

“Would that bother you?”

“Yes. Yes it would.”

“Then yes,” Sebastian answers with a smug smile. “I’m following you all the way to your Navigator. I need to make sure you stay safe … for Blaine’s sake,” he adds when Kurt’s right eyebrow soars up. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to his one true love, his … his delicate flower …” The face Sebastian pulls manages to be even more skillfully mocking than Kurt’s, and Kurt laughs. He can’t help it. He doesn’t want to hate Sebastian, not any more. Not after Dave’s suicide attempt. Not after Kurt finally made peace with him. Kurt wants to live a life with as few regrets as he can – for his own sake. No one else’s.

And besides, when he’s not trying to be a jackass, Sebastian can be kind of … sweet? Jesus Christ, Kurt! Don’t get ahead of yourself.

But, to be honest, he doesn’t mind the escort. Blaine had to head home early and, for some reason, it’s blacker than black outside tonight, which is odd. He didn’t park that far away from The Lima Bean, and there’s a dozen street lamps lit. Besides, it’s only five o’clock.

Why is it almost pitch black out already?

Kurt notices the sound of uneven footsteps shuffling behind them, footsteps he’d thought at first belonged to one of his friends, rushing to catch up with him, but they’re too heavy, too unfamiliar. Sebastian seems to notice them, too, because he becomes more animated, talks loudly. He starts bringing up oddly aggressive topics like, “Do you remember the time we nailed Blaine in the eye with that rock salt Slushie?” Kurt doesn’t justify that question with an answer. It seems cruel for Sebastian to bring it up, especially when he claims that he’s trying to build a bridge between them. But Kurt soon realizes it’s not about making a dig at Blaine’s or Kurt’s expense. It’s about puffing himself up, making himself sound tough. Sebastian has gone rigid. He’s taken Kurt’s elbow and he’s gripping it tightly. He’s dragging Kurt to his Navigator at a steadily accelerating speed and Kurt knows why. The safety of The Lima Bean is long gone now, and between it and them, there’s a man following them. A man Kurt hasn’t seen, but Sebastian must have, because he’s clenched his jaw, balled his fist.

He’s getting ready to fight.

Kurt sees his Navigator up ahead, but for every step they take, it seems to move farther away. He thinks he can reach it, stick out his hand and grab the door handle. He’s made the decision that after he unlocks it, he’ll shove Sebastian inside first. He won’t leave him outside to deal with whatever’s following them alone, not while he’s trying to save Kurt’s life.

But they don’t make it to the Navigator. Not in time.

“Stop walking.” Click. “Put your hands up and turn around slowly.”

It’s not the words that stop Kurt’s heart, propel it with one last, staccato beat up into his throat. It’s that click. TV cop dramas have drilled that noise into his brain.

It’s the sound of a gun. The man behind them, the man Sebastian was sprinting from, has a gun.

Sebastian doesn’t want to let go of Kurt’s arm, but he does when the man says, “I’m not kidding. Turn … the fuck … around.”

“Can’t we work something out, man?” Sebastian asks, even before he moves. “I mean, there’s no need for this, is there?”

“Yeah,” the man says, sinister anticipation in his voice. “We’re gonna work something out, all right. I’ll tell you what I … shit!” The man stamps the floor. He stares straight at Kurt, fuming. “Fuckin’ shit, man! I thought he was a chick!”

“What?” Kurt snaps, forgetting about the gun for a second. He glares at Sebastian, furious at him for not defending him. What about this “new friendship” he’s been talking about? Where did that go? But Kurt can’t stay mad at him, because the look on Sebastian’s face has Kurt terrified. Sebastian knows something. He knows something that Kurt doesn’t.

“You’re not … you’re not serious?” Sebastian asks with a weak, nervous laugh. “You’re not gonna make us …?”

“Make us … make us what?” Kurt feels nervous, sick, angry, and confused all at the same time. His head struggles with it, his heart thumps, and there’s a dry, acidic ache in the back of his throat that he can’t swallow away. “What is he going to make us do?” A dozen different scenarios leap to Kurt’s mind, everything from driving this man to the nearest convenience store and helping him rob it to stripping naked and handing over the keys to his Navigator, the robber taking their clothes with him so they won’t go for help. But even though that last scenario is the worst Kurt could come up with, he gets the feeling that what Sebastian’s thinking, which the man with the gun is obviously thinking also since he’s smiling like Charles Manson, is much, much worse.

The man points the gun square at Kurt’s chest and says, “On your knees, girly.”

“What!?” Kurt gasps, and suddenly he’s on the same page as everybody else. “No! Why …?”

“On your knees, or I’ll shoot you through the head.”

That should have been enough to get Kurt down on all fours, but it isn’t. Kurt finds it impossible to move, even to save his own life.

“Don’t …” Sebastian gets the single word out and the gun changes its aim, pointing at his chest now. “Don’t make him do that, man. Isn’t there anything else you want?”

“I told you what I want,” the man says. “You seem to forget, I’m the one with the gun.” The gun points back at Kurt, between the eyes. “Do I need to remind you?”

“I---I haven’t forgotten,” Sebastian says. “But I have money. Lots of money. If you let us go, I’ll give you everything in my wallet.”

The man doesn’t respond, but he seems interested. “How much?”

“Seven grand. Large.”

The man bobs his head, mulling it over. “Alright. Let me see it … slowly.” The man watches Sebastian with eagle eyes as he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. Sebastian holds it up for the man to see. “Slide it over.” Sebastian crouches down, every second that it takes him making Kurt’s heart beat faster. This has to work. It just has to. Seven large!? Is Sebastian out of his mind?? Who carries that much …?

Sebastian’s leather wallet slides across the asphalt, hitting the man on the foot. The man looks down at it, but also at Sebastian, trying to figure out what’s going on in Sebastian’s mind. Whether he was actually entertaining the idea of taking the money and leaving, Kurt doesn’t know, but the man says, “You know what? I changed my mind,” and he punts the wallet back over to Sebastian without even taking a peek.

Sebastian looks aghast, but also mildly offended. “Dude! What the hell!? That’s a lot of money!”

“So what? I can get money. What I want is to be entertained, and you two are going to entertain me.” He focuses on Kurt, his eyes burning like lit coals. “On your knees now or he’ll be fucking your corpse.”

That word corpse, the vulgarity of that image, cements the danger into Kurt’s brain, and he drops to his knees so fast Sebastian hears them crack.

“Uh, you’re gonna have to pull down your pants, sweetheart,” the man says, backed by cruel laughter. Kurt nods, undoing the fly to his jeans with urgent hands and shoving them down his thighs to his knees. Then he leans forward on his hands and waits, staring down at the ground, his cheeks burning red with humiliation and fear, wet with tears clinging to his skin. Sebastian doesn’t know how much experience Kurt’s had. He knows that Blaine was his first, and that they’re still together. The two of them are in love. Sex means more to Kurt than it does to Sebastian. Kurt shouldn’t be on the receiving end of this. It’s not right.

“H-how about he fucks me, huh?” Sebastian offers.

The man with the gun looks almost disgusted at Sebastian’s suggestion. “Nu-uh. Not interested.”

“I don’t … I don’t want to hurt him.”

Kurt looks up at Sebastian with a sense of surprise so compelling, he actually turns away from the man with the gun. But Sebastian can’t take his eyes off it. One look away, and they might both be dead.

“You hurt him” – The man cocks his gun and points it at Kurt, starting at his head, but then moving the barrel lower, aiming at his hand – “or I do.”

“S-Sebastian …” Kurt whimpers. Sebastian sees Kurt shake, the fingers of his threatened hand curling in towards his palm.

“Don’t … don’t do that.” Sebastian kneels down behind Kurt, giving in to the man’s demands. “You don’t need to threaten him, alright? I’m the one not cooperating. If you need to point that gun at someone, point it at me.”

“I know, right?” the man jokes. “But I have a feeling that pointing the gun at him will get me quicker results.”

Sebastian undoes the fly to his own slacks and sticks his hand down the front, but there’s nothing. Less than nothing. He didn’t even know that his dick could shrink that much. No matter what he does, that situation’s not changing, and he can feel that they’re running out of time. They’re out in the open. Someone will walk by and see them. And where that should be a good thing, Sebastian is convinced that the man will take the two of them out before he takes off. “I can’t … I can’t get hard with you sticking that gun in my face!”

“You’ll get hard, or you’ll be fucking him with a tree branch.”

“Oh, gee, thanks! That’s really helpin’ me out, pal!”

“Sebastian …” Kurt pleads in a wavering voice.

Sebastian tries to spit on his hands, give himself some kind of lubrication, but his mouth is completely dry.

“Stop being a pussy and just do it, kid! I don’t have all night here.”

“If you’re short on time, I’d be happy to recommend someplace else.”

“You know, that smart mouth of yours is gonna get your friend over here a whole lotta dead.”

“I’m sorry, all right!? I’m just … I’m sorry.” Sebastian tries to rush. With the friction he’s able to build up (more chaffing than stroking, nowhere near sensual), he’s only able to get less than half hard. When he lines the head of his dick against Kurt’s hole, it’s like hitting a brick wall. There’s no give at all, and not just because Kurt’s clenching tight. He’s not ready; mentally, physically, he’s not prepared for this. God, why couldn’t Sebastian just be Blaine for about five minutes? This might be easier. Kurt might open up for Blaine.

“Sebastian, please,” Kurt begs, crying. “D-do something.”

“That’s right, Sebastian. Do something!” the man demands, but he’s laughing, the gun in his hand shaking.

Sebastian does the only thing he can think of. His dick’s not hard enough to force his way through, and it’s not getting any harder. He licks two of his fingers as best he can with his sticky tongue, and he shoves them into Kurt’s body. Sebastian knows he’s scratched him. Kurt cries out, a sound of desperation and pain that Sebastian’s never heard before in his life.

“Oh God, Kurt!” Sebastian repeats as Kurt wails, arms and legs quaking so violently it feels like the whole ground is shaking. “I’m sorry, Kurt! I’m so so sorry, Kurt, I’m…”

“Shut up!” The man punches Sebastian across the face with his gun hand. “God! You two certainly know how to suck the fun out of something as simple as sex!”

Sebastian spits out blood. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“If he was a chick, this would be a done deal by now,” the man laments, as if it’s their fault that he chose badly. He continues arguing with them, with himself, with the sky, but Sebastian tunes him out and watches him closely. He’s waiting for an opening, an opportunity. But an opportunity to what? His first thought is to get Kurt to his Navigator. It’s only a short sprint away. (Wasn’t it closer? Weren’t they right next to it?) If he could get them to Kurt’s SUV, they might be safe. But where are Kurt’s keys? He doesn’t even remember Kurt having them. Kurt didn’t take them out while they were walking, and Sebastian hasn’t heard them jingle in his pockets.

The man shrugs to himself, pointing the gun at the ground, and Sebastian sees a chance. A crazy, stupid, likely to fail chance, but it’s all he’s got. He leaps to his feet and lunges for the man. The man sees him move and immediately points his gun at Kurt, but Sebastian grabs his arm and raises it before the gun goes off.

“You stupid son-of-a-bitch!” the man growls, his breath hot against Sebastian’s face as Sebastian wrestles the man, trying to get him to drop his gun. “You dumb ass punk! What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer. What’s he supposed to say? It’s asinine that this man would question the fact that Sebastian is trying to save his life. He guesses that’s what makes crazy people crazy – an inability to understand simple logic. But none of that matters because the man still has a gun, and he’s aiming it at Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian has a couple of options, but they’re all equally insane, so instead of picking one, he does them all. He butts the bridge of the man’s nose with his forehead, grabs the barrel of the gun and wrenches it out of the man’s hand, then he kicks him in the nuts. Only the head butt seems to faze the man. He retaliates, punching Sebastian in the jaw hard enough to stun him. But as he’s about to punch Sebastian again, the gun bounces off the ground and goes off.

Both Sebastian and the man go still. They stare at one another in surprise, eye to eye. Sebastian hears the man exhale a breath, but he doesn’t take another. Sebastian watches a light in the man’s eyes go out. The man crumbles, drops to the floor, eyes pointed skyward, unfocused. He doesn’t recover. He doesn’t reach for his gun.

He doesn’t’ move again.

Sebastian’s jaw drops. He sputters. He laughs out loud. He feels like he’s going to vomit. The man lying on the floor is dead. Stone dead, from a single gunshot wound to the head. But there were two shots. Where did the other …?

“Kurt!” Sebastian chuckles, wondering why is this so funny? Is that relief? Is it nerves? This isn’t the end. There’s a bunch of other aftermath he’s going to have to deal with now. They both will. The night is still, and it would be quiet if his ears weren’t ringing from the gunshot. “Kurt? I think we … Kurt?” Sebastian turns around. “Kurt?” A few feet away, where Sebastian left him, Kurt lies on the asphalt, as still as the night, barely breathing, the rise and fall of his chest gone. A blossom of red grows on his shirt, and Sebastian’s eyes grow wide. “Kurt? Oh my God! Kurt!” Sebastian takes off his blazer and covers Kurt with it. He doesn’t know why. He assumes it will stop the bleeding somehow. That doesn’t make sense, but he’s not thinking straight. “I’m sorry, Kurt! I’m so sorry, I …” Sebastian looks left and right. Houses line the street up and down, and yet no one has peeked out to see what the commotion is. “Help!” Sebastian screams. “Help us! Somebody please! Help us!”

“It’s alright, Kurt,” Sebastian mutters. “I promise. I’m going to get you some help. I …” Sebastian pulls his phone out of his pocket to call 9-1-1, but he can’t make out the numbers. They look like gibberish, his vision fuzzy, his head still spinning from the blow. He begins to dial what he thinks is the number, but it comes out as just symbols on the screen.

“What the --- what the hell is … stupid $800 phone! Help! Help me! Somebody help! Help me! Help me!!”

***

“What … what was that?” Anxious eyes scan the room in the low light, the beeping of the monitor closest to his head louder than a cymbal crash with his head throbbing. He looks around the sterile room – his dad sitting in the chair beside him, holding his hand; a nurse adjusting tubes and wires leading to a bed a short ways away, and in it, a body, almost lifeless.

“It was another spike,” the nurse informs him. She’s been there since long before they came in. She looks more exhausted than he does.

“Does that mean … he’s waking up?”

“No,” the nurse says sadly. “Not necessarily. We still have to wait. Give him time.”

“How you holdin’ up, kid?”

“Not that good, I don’t think.”

“Well, you should get some sleep.”

“I … I can’t. I just … I should have done something more. I should have fought.”

“Then you’d both be in hospital beds right now. You did everything you could, Kurt,” his father says. He’s trying to be strong for his son, but his voice slips, shaking at the thought of his son on his hands and knees the way Kurt told it.

“Yeah, well, Blaine doesn’t think so.”

“Blaine’s an asshole,” Burt snarls. “What did he think? You asked for this?”

“You should have seen him, Dad,” Kurt sniffles. “He couldn’t … he couldn’t even look at me.”

Blaine’s reaction when Kurt told him about the assault was completely unexpected. After his speech when they first met about how prejudice is just ignorance, and how he regretted bullies chasing him away from his old school, Kurt thought that Blaine would stand by him, the way he had in the face of Dave Karofsky. He thought Blaine would rush down to the hospital to hold him and sit by his side. Blaine showed up and saw Sebastian, saw Kurt in tears holding Sebastian’s hand. He listened to Kurt tell his side of the story. Blaine barely spoke three words to him before mumbling something about it being late and him having to get home. “Maybe this is just hard for him,” Kurt says. “Maybe I’m being unfair. I should just … I should give him time.”

“Do you want to give him time?”

Kurt shakes his head, dabs at his eyes. “Not really. I need him, but he can’t be here for me.”

“Well, I’m here for you,” Burt says, putting an arm around his son’s shoulders and squeezing. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Thanks, Dad. And when he wakes up …” Kurt glances over at the bed “… I’ll be here for him.”

Kurt takes Sebastian’s hand again and holds it gently. It was so surreal how it happened. The police told him that the man who followed them through the parking lot of The Lima Bean had just been released from prison on a technicality. They’d been keeping tabs on him, waiting for him to slip up, but they lost track of him. Kurt told them that he’d heard him and Sebastian talking, and thought Sebastian was with a woman. The police informed him that that was his m.o. - to corner a man and a woman in an alley or a parking lot, somewhere deserted and dark, and have them “perform” for him.

They also told Kurt that the man with the gun never had any intention of letting him and Sebastian go alive.

Kurt remembers the man going off, talking to himself. He remembers Sebastian telling him to run for the Navigator, but Kurt had said no. He wasn’t going anywhere without Sebastian. They were trying to come up with a plan when the man let his guard down for a moment and Sebastian bum-rushed him. The gun went off twice – once when they first started struggling, and then a second time when he pointed the gun in Sebastian’s face. Kurt thought Sebastian was dead right then, but the bullet hit the man instead. That first bullet, the one that shot off into the air, fell back down to earth and hit Sebastian in the head, driving into his skull. It took a while for it to affect him, but when it did, Sebastian knocked out cold.

And now, Sebastian is unconscious, and no one knows for sure when – or if – he’s going to wake up.

Kurt called 9-1-1 and, while he waited for the police to arrive, he held Sebastian. Kurt cried with Sebastian cradled in his arms, Sebastian’s blood staining Kurt’s shirt. Kurt tried to get Sebastian to wake up by complaining about it. Then he told Sebastian everything he was thinking when Sebastian chased him down in the parking lot - how he didn’t hate him, how he wanted to try his hand at them being friends.

But it didn’t work. Sebastian hasn’t opened his eyes since he hit the ground.

The first few times Sebastian’s monitor beeped, Kurt overheard the nurses talk about how sometimes coma patients remain in a dream state while their brains repair themselves, that they relive the final moments of their lives before they went unconscious over and over and over again while they try to sort things out.

Kurt can’t help wondering what Sebastian’s thinking right now, what it is that makes that monitor keep going off …

…

“Hummel! Hummel, wait up!”