Dec. 25, 2015, 6 p.m.
A Week In The Hamptons: The Ambush Kurt Hummel Tag Team
M - Words: 2,557 - Last Updated: Dec 25, 2015 Story: Complete - Chapters: 23/? - Created: Mar 29, 2015 - Updated: Mar 29, 2015 266 0 0 0 0
I hope you enjoyed that. I also have one request; Im trying not to write long chapters because I personally understand that sometimes long chapters can be a turn off so Ive been trying to keep each chapter between 2000-3000 words so I would very much appreciate if you guys would tell me whether the chapter length is fine, or too short or whatever really. Please review and thank you, very very much. Next chapter would be out tomorrow because its Good Friday tomorrow!!!!
I am walking down a runaway, with dimly lit spotlights on me. It is pitch black around, and it feels like I would never see the end of this path. The darkness around me comes to life with a Symphony of menacing laughter. It is resounding in my ears. My entire core is vibrating with its beat. My feet are killing me. When I look down, I am dressed in one of my designs - a black corset top with lace detailing and a voluminous yellow neon skirt with black platform heels. I am humiliated, my cheeks burn crimson. I break into a sprint trying to get to the end of this runway, to some form of safety but it goes on forever. Then the runway flips vertically and I am free falling to my tragic, humiliating demise.
"Finn, watch out!" screams Rachel. I jolt, only to have myself smacking hard against the headrest of Rachels seat. My front teeth feels the smack the hardest. "Are you okay?" ask Rachel.
"Almost toothless, but alive," I groggily respond. How did I voluntarily climb into the car when I knew just how bad a driver Finn is? He even uses a memory of one of his bad driving experiences to diffuse a boner. He apologizes but Rachel dives into a rant about how he almost ran over a dog.
I settle back into my seat and try to reel myself from my nightmare. It isnt the first. Ive been having these recurring nightmares about how my fashionable judgement day would be like. The worst part about going through something problematic in real life is the extreme scenarios your subconscious paint for your head. I have a sneaking feeling that the laughter Ive been hearing my nightmares are those of Hughs and his stupid assistants. I never heard him laugh before, I secretly think he doesnt know what laughing is, but if he did, he would laugh like Cruella De Vil.
When I look out the window, I am momentarily liberated at the sight of a vast stretch of open water. The horizon is ambiguous in my sight. I roll down the window and feel myself genuinely smiling in a while. The scent of salt water is first to welcome me. The breeze remedies my burning skin, thats when I realize Finns car has no air conditioning and I am drenched in sweat as a result. The air feels cool against my flesh. The coast is lined up with an array of affluent houses. I almost forgot how welcoming houses look. New York is a palace made up of little apartments. It is so refreshing to see pointy roofs and picket fences.
That is when I realize that this week is going to be good for me.
"Thats the one. Up ahead," says Rachel. I look out the windshield and follow the house she is pointing at. My jaw could have made a hole on the floor of Finns filthy car. The house is absolutely magnificent. It is all white, with large glass panels that teases the outsiders. A huge deck is suspended by tall, slim pillars and it overlooks my favourite view. I cannot wait to watch the sunset from that deck. "This reminds me why were friends," I say to Rachel in which she smacks my temple. Finn pulls into the driveway of the house and I am positive this is a dream. I am first out of the car, partly because the colony of ants have recruited more soldiers and have been suspiciously lingering around me.
Finn tells us he will unload the luggages, so I hold tightly onto Rachels forearm to make sure I dont faint from the beauty of this place. We take scared little steps up the stairs that lead to the front door. "Ive only been here once when I was a kid. My dads used to host orgy parties here." The illusion is shattered. I scowl at Rachel for practically dismantling the graceful beauty this place had. "Be sure to keep that one to yourself. Forever," i tell her.
I look over my shoulder to make sure Finn is okay with the luggages before I enter the house. Then I see two other cars already parked at the far corner of the bricked driveway. I only roughly know who Rachel and Finn invited. When I enter the house, I am beyond mesmerized. A grand circular red couch sits in front of a giant fireplace, the floor is decorated with a carpet that could have only been made with clouds, the walls are plastered with art they probably commissioned for themselves and a bar sits across where the fireplace is. Rachel tells me this is only the lounge area, so I tell her shes bragging. Across this room is the door that leads to the patio and I can already taste a hint of salt water. It makes me smile at how near we are to the beach.
"Is that who I think it is?" In my startled state, I follow the voice to find a tall, physically toned man walking into the lounge room from another part of the house. His hair gives his identity away. "Noah!" I shriek. I knew Puckerman was going to be here. He has been Finns best friend since high school after all.
"Whats up, lady Hummel," he says. We awkwardly hug but amicably part when we realize how awkward it was. Puck and I have been through a lot from hating each other, to tolerating each other, to sort of okay with each other, to existing peacefully together. "Still rocking the Mohawk, I see."
"You know what a chick magnet this do is," he tells me. The notion is a little presumptuous but Noah Puckerman is the poster child for the stereotypical guy type. When Finn walks through the door, they partake in their regular fashion of greeting each other. Even Rachel is pleased to see him. She wasnt really his biggest fan back in high school, but I guess people grow up. "This place is pretty bitchin, Berry. Where have you been hiding it from us?" I almost wish Rachel would tell him about the whole orgy bit just so I can see the Noah Puckerman squirm. "Jeez, Hummel, whod you blow? You have some dried whatever on your face."
I roll my eyes at him and try to rub and peel the dried drool off my face, then I realize how disgusting I feel right now. "Im in need of a shower," I say. Noah tells me theres one upstairs in the first bedroom from the stairs so I head for the spiral staircase. I hear Rachel calling me but I yell over my shoulder, telling her I need to freshen up. The second level of this house is even more impressive. I dont know how many rooms there are, but the hallway reminds me of the endless runway in my nightmare. I enter the first bedroom closest to the stairs. There is a balcony in this one that overlooks the ocean. I mentally note that when Rachel assign rooms, Im using the best friend card to wrangle this one. There is a closed door across the king sized bed Im assuming is the bathroom so I pull my shirt over my head but when I reach for the door knob, it turns from the inside. When the door opens, my own insides turn.
"Oh, Kurt. Hi."
I am paralyzed. My body feels as if its been turned into concrete. I should blink, I want to blink away this ridiculous vision but I cant. Have I been trapped inside my nightmare? Because it sure as hell looks that way. "Are you alright?" The concerned look in his face makes it all the more unfathomable, then I realize I am shirtless and my exploitation returns my senses to me.
"Blaine." It is all I manage out of the scribbles inside my head. In an ideal fantasy, I have more to say to Blaine Anderson, but his name is all I manage to articulate in this ambush. My eyes involuntarily travel to the other half of his body. I blush red when I realize he is standing in front of me, a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest bare and his dark hair soaked and dripping water onto his shoulders. He looks absolutely marvellous. Like those marbled Greek statues.
"I thought wed be more decent when we finally come face to face," he says. I havent heard his voice in a long time, but my head recognizes it all too well. Like a voice-activated device. Im definitely activated now, and on defence mode. I cover my own lanky body with the pathetic t-shirt I have and take a tentative step backwards. A smile plays across his lips. He takes the other towel he has in his hands and run it through his hair. Every step he takes, I step backwards. I wonder how far I am from the door, or a household weapon. "You look good. Have you been working out?"
"What are you doing here!" I yell. I dont know why I did, but it is like words that rush out of you before you process them. I startle him and it gives me a small sense of satisfaction. "Sorry."
He lets out a small, amused laughter that is, resistant as I am, music to my ears. "Its Finn and Rachels wedding retreat," he states as if that is explanation enough. I realize I need to stand my ground, so I dug out the confident New York Kurt Hummel and stare at him like I am entitled to an answer. "Im one of Finns groomsman."
My eyes go wide. The news is baffling to me and right now, all I want to do is stomp downstairs and smack my brother right in his giant head. "I take it you didnt know," says Blaine. My silence is answer enough for him, and when I see those damn succulent lips of his about to say something, I announce, "I need to pee," and head straight into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me.
I thought i had left the nightmare when I left New York! I am partially hyperventilating. When I look into the mirror, I hyperventilate even more at how horrendous I look. Why didnt Finn tell me before hand? Seeing Blaine again needed at least 3 weeks of social cues preparations and maybe a lesson in karate. I breathe in deeply and try to calm myself. I can do this, I can face him one more time before I head downstairs, smack Finn in his face and drive away from here because i rather go back to that nightmare than be around this one. But in this secret space of this bathroom, I admit to myself that he does look pretty damn good. Discreet abdominal muscles, subtle biceps and a sophisticated designer stubbIe that I oddly want to trail my fingers across. But these are only physical attributes. Shallow. I know him deeper, and he is not pretty. I take my time refreshing myself, making myself look better than him, because I am.
When I open the door, Im hoping I was hallucinating from the long drive and lack of rest for the past 3 weeks, but he is right there sitting at the edge of the bed. I catch a quick glimpse of his face before he jumps to his feet. He was biting his lower lip. I know him, and that means he was worried about something. Me.
"Youre still here," I say. He is all dressed now in nude coloured cut off chinos and a slightly sheer white shirt. Okay, barely dressed. I still can spot the trail of hair on his lower abdominal trailing down into his pants through the shirt he is wearing. His hair is still damp, and the water drops onto his shirt, making small darker patches of water.
"Sorry," he says for existing...I think. Okay, I wish. "I just - you cut your hair. It looks nice."
The idea that he sat out here waiting for me to get out of the bathroom just to tell me my hair looks nice is, Ill admit, a little creepy, but flattering, and annoying. A mixed ball of emotions, really. I have so many things to say to him, mostly profanities. We stand across each other in a maladroit silence. I respond with a very lazy, "Thanks," and the conversation hangs there. "I better get downstairs," I say and I quickly exit the room. I knew he was about to say something, but I cannot even look at him let alone hear him speak. I am beyond furious with Finn. When I reach to the ground level, Noah sees me and winks in victory. Of course he knew Blaine was here. He was always out to get me. Since the day we unfortunately met in high school. I scowl at him and march out to the patio where Finn and Rachel are admiring the beach in a lovely embrace.
"You asshole!" I scream, startling both of them. My eyes are fixed on Finn, and I must have resembled a monster because when he sees my face all scrunched up in fury and charging for him, he shields behind Rachel. I grab a magazine closest to me with every intention of killing him with it but Rachel tries to explain. "We were going to tell you!"
"You knew? Oh my god, what are you two? The Ambush Kurt Hummel Tag Team?" I yell. Finn looks absolutely terrified. Good. Rachel tells me to calm down over and over again, until I finally do. "Okay listen, I was going to tell you but I knew if I did, there was no way in hell you were going to come with us and I just really wanted you to be here because youre my best friend. I know it was a little selfish but I just really didnt want you to say no. Especially since I knew you could use a getaway."
"Yes! To a carefree environment, not to a house with an ex I havent seen in 6 years!" I counter back at her. "You do realize you drove me all the way here for nothing? Im sure as hell not going to stay here, so your little plan didnt work!"
"Okay, Kurt, now youre being a little selfish," says Finn. His audacity stuns me. My eyes might have popped out of my head because Finn pushes Rachel further in front of him. "Finn Hudson I am 2.5 seconds away from ripping your head out of your abnormally tall figure so you better-"
"Please reason with us here, Kurt," interjects Rachel. She, I can talk to. "If you want him gone, hes gone because your presence here means more to us than his does. But Blaine and Finn are really good friends, I know you cant understand that now and Ill explain it to you if you want me to, but please dont just choose to leave. Tell me what will be comfortable for you to be here, and well do it."
I look across from Finn and Rachel. Now Im faced with a decision more complex than I anticipated. Leave and save myself, stay and be uncomfortable, or demand they meet my criterions and kick Blaine to the muddy curb?