Dec. 15, 2016, 6 p.m.
Royal Pains: Chapter 3
E - Words: 9,122 - Last Updated: Dec 15, 2016 Story: Complete - Chapters: 15/15 - Created: Dec 15, 2016 - Updated: Dec 15, 2016 273 0 0 0 0
Chapter 3
“What did you, what did you do Santana?” Kurt screams and the Prince falls apart in his arms.
“What needed to be done. Now, I’ll go downstairs and tell the vultures you climbed down the fire escape in the back a while ago. That should give you another hour or so before the news breaks.”
Santana turns on the spot and struts out of Kurt’s room and with one last look at Kurt and the Prince, Rachel follows her, her voice high pitched as she berates Santana.
“How could you do this? Don’t you remember what it felt like when you were outed on TV?”
“At least it showed me who my real friends are and who in my family I can count on,” Santana retorts before the front door closes behind her.
With Santana and Rachel gone, Kurt pushes Blaine upright and shakes him until the Prince’s unfocused eyes meet him.
“I’m sorry but you got to snap out of it and make a plan. Is there anyone you could call to come pick you up and take you home assuming you don’t actually live at the Palace.”
“I don’t. I’m staying at Richmond House at the moment,” Blaine whispers hoarsely, before he takes a deep breath, wipes his tears away with the back of his hand and straightens his spine. Right in front of him, the bubbly stranger Kurt spent the night with, transfers into the Prince, a prince raised on a strict code of conduct and four years of military service.
“I can’t got back there though,” the Prince continues. “Someone will have alerted my father to my absence and if I go there now I’ll only run into his guards who will take me to the Palace.”
“You know your father isn’t going to actually kill you, right? He's the King, he can’t do that.”
“Yes, but he can put me on a plane to some country where they kill homosexuals and spin it as his younger son the humanitarian, off to build houses and sink wells in the third world. And I couldn’t do a thing against it. I have no income, can’t get a normal job, only got a honorable discharge from the army because I’m royal and I don’t even have a normal ID because I don’t have an actual last name. I’ve been using my mother’s maiden name whenever I wanted to go out incognito because there are millions of people named Anderson and I’m sure there’s more than one Blaine Anderson, but yeah, I’m at my father’s mercy. His my father and my King and I have to obey him.”
“That sucks,” Kurt exclaims. He’s romanticized the monarchy for years, but the way Blaine describes it, he’s pretty happy that he’s just Kurt Hummel, son of a mechanic and a school teacher. “Is there anywhere else you could go? Any friends who could take you in for a few days?”
“None that my family isn’t aware of. They couldn’t hide me if my father’s intent on finding me.”
Kurt considers their options for a moment. They can’t really stay at his apartment because sooner or later, the press will be back, if Santana even manages to convince them to leave in the first place. Because it’s not just Blaine that’s in the video, there’s Kurt too, holding the Prince like a lover would and neither of them fully clothed. There’s no way the press will leave him alone as long as the Prince’s sexuality is breaking news. He doesn’t even have a place to go to hide out at in the City because he never really made friends in college - every classmate was the competition after all - and lost contact to the people who didn’t bully him in high school years ago.
“Your friend’s car - who knows you’ve been driving it?” Kurt asks, coming to the conclusion that he and the Prince better get out of the city while they still can.
“I guess no one. I’m sure it would have been taken away already if my father had found out. I don’t have a license to drive on public roads which is crazy because I’ve been trained to fly fighter jets.”
“Then we’ll drive to my dad’s and wait till it all blows over. You can release a statement and tell the press that you’re okay but won’t be out in public for a while to figure things out with your family. Then your dad can’t openly look for you when everyone thinks you’re at the Palace,” Kurt explains his plan as he pulls a small suitcase out from under his bed and starts packing.
“Where does your family live?” the Prince asks before pulling the curtains aside an inch and peaking out. “They’re still here.”
“Ohio.”
“Is it nice? Cooper’s visited every state, but I only know the east coast and Europe. My dad doesn’t think I need to travel the country when I will never be King anyway.”
“It’s backwards, conservative, filled with racists, homophobes and misogynists and hopefully the last place the press will go looking for a newly outed prince.”
“Sounds lovely,” Blaine quips and Kurt’s happy that the Prince is able to joke at all.
“You’ll have to wear my clothes until we can get you some new ones,” he apologizes to Blaine while he packs, the Prince’s eyes staring out through the inch of open curtain.
“Even if they leave, how are we going to get to the car? I left it around the corner from Scandals.”
“There’s this new thing - I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it - called the subway. It’s usually filled with grumpy people minding their own business, especially early in the morning. Trust me, no one will look for you on the subway if they are looking for you at all.”
“I hope you’re right. And I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I don’t think I’ve said it yet, but I’m really sorry, Kurt. This doesn’t effect just me, but I’ve been acting like it does.”
He doesn't know what makes him do it - they haven’t brushed their teeth yet and they aren't drunk anymore - but Blaine doesn’t pull back when Kurt kisses his lips for a brief moment.
“It’s going to be okay. And, hey, you’re lucky you picked an unemployed recent graduate who can take off any time. There’s nothing waiting for me here right now. And it’s probably safer for Santana if we don't see each other for a while. I can’t believe she did what she did when someone outed her on local TV when we were in high school. She was so devastated because her grandma, who practically raised her, disowned her when she found out Santana liked girls. So, I don’t understand how she could do that to you. You’re not a politician known for his anti gay rhetoric who’s paying boys to sleep with him in secret. I have no problem with outing guys like that. But you’ve been an ally even when we thought you are straight. I really don’t know if I can keep living with her when we get back. In fact, why aren’t you angrier?”
Blaine sighs. “What would it change? If I screamed in her face or hit her, would it recall that email? She did what she did because she believes it’s for the greater good and she might be right. I never even considered what my coming out would mean to my people, I only thought about myself, how it would ruin my life.”
“It was still wrong of her to do it,” Kurt insists, because if their roles were reversed he would be screaming at Santana and find a way to make her pay for what she’s done.
“At least she’s helping me now,” Blaine says from his perch by the window. “I don’t know what she said to the reporters but the first are leaving.”
“Let me know when they’re all gone and we’ll leave,” Kurt instructs before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth before packing his toothbrush. Underneath the sink he finds a spare, still wrapped in plastic, either belonging to Rachel or Santana and Kurt takes it back to his room along with his shampoos and conditioners.
“They’re both still gone if you want to switch and use the bathroom before we leave. You can use this toothbrush.”
The Prince takes the offered toothbrush with a grateful smile on his face and trades Kurt his place by the window. Downstairs, Santana is talking to a handful of reporters while Rachel hovers nearby. They are too far away for Kurt to read their expressions but if he knows Rachel at all, she’s probably trying to get her picture taken by pretending to be horrified that someone was seeing Broadway actress Rachel Berry in this getup. Maybe, she’s right, Kurt thinks as he watches his roommates interact with the press, if this is going the extra mile then I’m really not up for it. Then he lets his mind wander, trying to imagine what impact being associated with Prince Blaine might have on his future career. Will it be easier for him to get an audition because he was with the Prince when he came out or will people try to stay clear of him because they don’t want to be accused of only casting him because of his association with the Prince. What if King Richard bans him from ever coming back to New York as punishment for seducing his son? Does the King have that kind of power? He would ask Blaine if it didn’t sound like such a stupid question.
The prince in question returns from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand and hair hanging low over his forehead to hide his eyebrows.
“Do you have a baseball cap?” Kurt raises an eyebrow.
“Do I look like I own a baseball cap? I have a pair of fake classes though from when I went as Clark Kent for Halloween. Give me a second.”
He finds the glasses in the back of his closet and hands them to Blaine. It’s not much of a disguise, but with the way Blaine’s hair is styled he now looks more like a hipster on his way to class than a wayward prince fleeing from his father. Kurt’s phone vibrates on his nightstand, reminding him to throw his charger into his messenger bag.
Coast is clear. Do you want me to get him an Uber? - Santana
I’m leaving with him. Don’t ask me where we are going. - Kurt
After throwing his charger into his bag along with his laptop and laptop charger, the only thing left to do is get dressed.
“Could you, um, could you turn around for a second?” he asks the Prince. It’s ridiculous after spending the night with Blaine, but in the light of day, with the alcohol gone from his system, he feels shy and afraid that the Prince won’t like what he sees when he isn’t seeing Kurt’s body through beer googles.
Blaine turns around, thankfully without commenting on Kurt’s request. Kurt quickly puts on a fresh pair of underwear underneath a pair of comfortable, light blue jeans and a grey henley underneath a dark blue zip up hoody, nothing like the tight clothes he usually wears, but today comfort has to come first, when they have a 9 hour long drive to Lima ahead of them.
“Ready?” he asks the Prince when he’s dressed and sees that the Prince has put his pants back on too.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Blaine carries his suitcase down the stairs while Kurt follows with his messenger bag and a shopping bag filled with shoes. Outside, the reporters, and to his relief Santana and Rachel too, are gone and Kurt leads Blaine to the subway stop on 157th street. They stop at an ATM where Kurt withdraws his daily limit - a measly 200 dollars - and tells Blaine to do the same.
“If your dad can just ask the CIA to track you, we can’t use our credit cards once we’re out of the city. Get as much money as you can get now.”
While the Prince maxes out his debit and credit cards, Kurt texts his dad.
Don’t be mad, but I might end up on the news. If anyone contacts you, don’t comment. I’m coming to Ohio tonight but no one can know. I’ll tell you everything once I get there. Love you, Kurt.
After purchasing a ticket for the Prince, they hop on a 1 train downtown and ride it till a 116th street surrounded by the unlucky crowd who starts work before nine o’clock. Scandals is right around the corner from Columbia University, only a few minutes walk from the subway stop. Fortunately, Blaine’s car is where he’s left it the previous night, but he’s already got a parking ticket. Kurt takes the ticket and throws it into the backseat of the black Audi A4 the Prince borrowed from a friend.
“You should let me drive, you know, because you don’t have a license,” he says practically salivating over the car. When it comes to cars, he’s always been a typical boy and the car in front of him is just beautiful.
“Be my guest,” Blaine hands him the keys and Kurt beams at him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
They are both quiet until Kurt drives them over George Washington Bridge into New Jersey and the Prince suddenly sings everything is legal in New Jersey.
“I love that musical,” Kurt gushes, “but I’ve never seen it live. Rachel, she’s actually in the ensemble, but not even she could get me tickets and so far I haven’t had any luck with the ticket lottery.”
“Is she?” Blaine asks. “Now I feel bad for not recognizing her.”
“Only for the past two months and most people only pay close attention to the ensemble if they know someone who’s in it.”
“Oh, I saw it right after it premiered. I’ll get you tickets once it’s safe for you to go back to New York. That's the least I can do after making you part of my drama.”
“There wouldn’t be any drama if you’d never met me or my roommates, so it’s not just your fault,” Kurt protests. If he’d just gone home after Scandals kicked them out instead of bringing home a stranger, neither of them would be sitting in an Ohio bound car right now. They probably should talk about that too because clearly Blaine had just been interested in a one night stand whereas Kurt wouldn’t have been opposed to seeing ‘Blake’ again. Which reminds him of the reason why Blaine could only have one night stands in the past.
“Call her,” he tells the Prince. From the corner of his eye he sees Blaine’s hand shake as he unlocks his cellphone before dropping it back into his lap. “I can pull over somewhere if you’d like some privacy.”
“I can’t call her, I’m not strong enough,” Blaine hangs his head. “Am I the worst person in the world if I text her instead.”
“I gotta be honest, it’s a shitty move, but I guess it’s still better than not telling her at all.”
Kurt keeps his eyes on the road as the Prince types out a message to his fiancée. If he were in her shoes and his fiancé dumped him over text, he would probably smash a few things, but Blaine of course was right when he said that they don't have a clue what his life is really like. It’s easy to judge from his high horse because no one would ever pressure him to marry a woman and no one in his life has the power to do so. But Blaine isn’t ordinary. He is second in line to the throne.
After finishing his long winded apology text, the Prince powers down his phone.
“No one can track it when it’s turned off and Charlotte won’t be able to yell at me,” Blaine confesses. “I know I deserve it and at some point I’ll have to meet her and apologize in person, but not yet.” Kurt hums in agreement. “Can I use your phone to log onto Twitter?” the Prince continues.
“It’s, um, in my jeans pocket,” Kurt replies, his cheeks turning red. It’s stupid considering what they got up to only a few hours ago.
“Can I take it out?” the Prince asks, probably sensing his unease.
When Kurt nods, Blaine slowly trails his fingertips up his thigh until they reach Kurt’s pocket, reveling in the noise Kurt makes when he does so.
The smile on his face drops in a flash though when Kurt’s phone comes to life with a breaking news alert.
Prince Blaine of America outed as homosexual - Prince caught on camera admitting his sexuality in the arms of a as of yet unidentified male
All of a sudden his chest feels like someone dropped a boulder on top of it and Blaine struggles to breathe. “Pull over,” he rasps, before putting his head between his knees and trying to remember the breathing exercises he was taught after his first panic attack when he was a teenager. Every single breath is a struggle as he envisions the Palace’s media coordinator running through the marble halls to his father’s office to inform him of Blaine’s fuck up. He imagines his father’s face turning red in anger and yelling for the Palace’s security chief. Find the ungrateful faggot, he imagines his father yelling, before picking up the phone to summon Cooper. He imagines the Palace staff tiptoeing around his father’s office, the King known for his choleric episodes, as his father rages on.
“Focus on my voice,” he hears Kurt instruct through a hazy fog and he latches on to Kurt’s soothing timbre. “Deep breath in, hold it for a moment, deep breath out.”
It takes him longer than ever before to calm down. He’s had many panic attacks growing up as a closeted gay royal but never one as severe as this one.
“Thanks,” he says hoarsely. Kurt hands him the phone he dropped when he couldn’t breathe.
“Write your statement before the speculations start.”
“I need to set up an account first. I’m not supposed to have social media accounts,” Blaine admits and Kurt takes his phone from the Prince’s shaking hand and gets to work.
“You’re lucky, no one’s set up an account in your name yet,” Kurt says as he creates an account for the Prince. “Take off the glasses so I can take a picture.”
Blaine’s hands fly to his hair immediately. “Not like this.” Kurt nods.
“That’s what you look like in the video, it will help authenticate your account.”
The Prince pouts but removes his hands from his hair and takes off the fake glasses he is still wearing. When Kurt’s done with setting up Blaine’s account, he hands his phone to the Prince.
“I have an app that lets you to write more than 140 characters.”
Kurt tries to keep his eyes to himself while Blaine types out his statement. Unlike the text, he’ll get to see it soon enough anyway. To his surprise Blaine hands him the phone before sending the statement.
“Is it okay?” he asks.
@PrinceBlaine: I apologize to everyone I’ve hurt by lying about my sexuality. I will spend the next few days with my family who has not been privy to my internal struggle and has learnt my news from the media like everyone else. I owe it to them to withdraw myself from the public eye until we’ve had a chance to deal with my revelation as a family. Please direct all press inquiry at the Palace as I will not make another statement until I deem it necessary. I would also ask the press not to go looking for my friend, who was a shoulder to cry on when I needed it the most.
“Why are you lying about your family?”
“The public can never know that the King and his sons don’t get along because the Crown is supposed to be the one constant in an ever changing country. We are supposed to be above petty fights and stand united in the face of political turmoil in our own country and the world at large. How I feel about my family should and has to be a private matter, and I implore you never to repeat what I told you to anyone. People either love or hate the monarchy, there’s little in between that, but my private relationship with my father should have no bearing on how the people in this country view the Crown.”
Blaine finishes his plea only to notice that Kurt’s cheeks are flushed and he keeps wetting his lips.
“What?” Blaine asks and Kurt turns an even darker shade of red.
“You’re just really hot when you talk all princely,” Kurt admits, face tomato red.
“That turns you on?” Blaine asks astonished. “I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”
“Is there a future? For us, I mean,” Kurt swallows around the lump in his throat and asks what he really wants to know.
“I,” the Prince runs a hand through his unruly curls. “I’d like there to be one, because I like you a lot. I wouldn’t have spent all night talking to you if all I was after was a quicky. I could have gotten that much faster with another guy. But I can’t promise anything. My dad really has all the power and if he decides to cure me by sending me abroad I’ll have to obey him.”
They are still parked at the side of the road, car after car passing by, none knowing that here at the side of the road Prince Blaine is trying to make sense of his life.
“I never thought I’d ever say that, but then lets just stay in Ohio forever,” Kurt jokes weakly as his brain finally catches up to whats going on. This isn’t just asking out a guy he likes, this is potentially entering a relationship with a member of the royal family. He wouldn’t be the first commoner - King Richard married a commoner and Prince Cooper has dated rich socialites in the past - but he would be the first openly homosexual commoner to date a royal. In the past, the paparazzi went mad every time Cooper had a new none royal girlfriend because it helped sell the narrative that everyone could potentially marry a future King. He can only try to imagine how crazy the yellow press will be over Prince Blaine’s first homosexual relationship. From a PR stand point, Blaine should date anyone but Kurt, Kurt thinks bitterly. Not a boy who believes fashion has no gender and who’s voice is high pitched in a way that often gets him a Mam on the phone. A boy who knows nothing about world politics and went to school for acting. If he were at least a successful actor, but all he is is a recent graduate with student loans up to his ears and not a single audition on the horizon. He sounds like a PR nightmare to his own ears. What was he thinking asking the Prince if they had a future together.
“Forget I asked. You should probably date someone from your world,” he tells Blaine before turning the key in the ignition and getting back on the road.
“What’s that supposed to mean, someone from my world?” the Prince asks indignantly. “If you mean royal, well as far as I know there are no openly gay royals, at least not in America. I went to school with a french Prince for a few years but he’s a nightmare. Or if you’re implying I’m too rich for you, haven’t you been listening when I told you I have no money of my own, that I’m dependent on what my father gives me. I spent the past four years in the army, training with recruits from all walks of life, so don’t call me a snob.”
The Prince looks like he’s going to cry again or punch something and Kurt doesn’t know what to do. If they’re already arguing like this, maybe they shouldn’t try to date anyway.
“I just meant that you’re a prince and I’m an unemployed wannabe actor who knows nothing of the world. I can’t name a single European newspaper. I’m not even sure I can name 5 newspapers from our country. I guess you’d probably be better off dating someone smarter.”
“You don’t seem dumb to me, Kurt,” the Prince assures him immediately. “All morning you’ve been coming up with the good ideas. And if you want to know more about history, geography or world politics I can tell you about them, but it’s okay if you don’t know those things. Cooper’s future wife, yeah, she should know who’s Queen of France and King of Italy, because she’ll have to entertain foreign dignitaries, but I, if my father and the public can accept that I want to date a man, will be free do be with who I want.”
“So you do want to date me?” Kurt asks.
“I do,” the Prince says after a moment’s hesitation. “So how about we use this time in Ohio to see if we are even compatible. Maybe, you’ll hate me after being cooped up with me for a few days. Maybe I discover something about you that I can’t accept?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, like, you ritually sacrifice bunnies and worship Satan.”
“Are you religious?” Kurt asks? “I know you are a member of the Church of America, but do you also believe it all? Because I’m not, religious or a member of any church.”
“I don’t believe that there’s some guy with a long white beard sitting on a throne made of clouds watching my every step to determine if one day I’m going to heaven or hell. But I believe things happen for a reason. Like there’s a reason you were the first person I met at Scandals. And that you have a roommate who thought it was for the greater good to out me. I believe there has to be a reason why this happened and it just hasn't made itself clear yet.”
“I’d call it bad judgment after copious amount of alcohol, but I’m happy you can have such an optimistic outlook on life even after what happened to you,” Kurt says.
For a moment neither of them talks, the atmosphere heavy in the car. It’s not how Kurt imagined this morning would go but then again, he didn’t plan to have a one night stand either.
“Do you want to take a break from talking and just listen to some music?” he asks Blaine who perks up immediately.
“Do you have any Broadway?”
“Do I have any Broadway. Hello musical theater graduate. I don’t think I have a single playlist on my phone that isn’t Broadway.”
“So I get to hear you sing?” Blaine is bouncing in his seat excitedly and Kurt wonders how he does it - going from super serious prince to excited puppy in seconds. Maybe he should take acting lessons from Blaine.
The first song that comes up is Breathe from In the Heights and Kurt really gets it how Nina feels because he’s coming home a failure too. Not only will he have to tell his dad that the money for college was wasted money because Kurt will probably end up working some job you don’t need a college education for and he will have to tell his father how he met the Prince and why there’s a video of him in just his underwear. Oh joy.
“You promised to sing for me,” Blaine brings him back from his musings and he realizes that he’s missed half of the song already.
“I’m sorry, start it again.”
Blaine keeps his eyes on Kurt’s face the whole time he sings. His companion looks more relaxed than Blaine’s ever seen him in the short amount of time he’s known Kurt. Music relaxes him too, would be something he would pursue if he wasn’t Prince Blaine. Fortunately, his education had included piano lessons from a young age, so when he was stressed he could play music. It was what he missed the most when he was overseas for his military training. His mom loved hearing him play and got him a Steinway for Richmond House. It probably won’t be there anymore though when they get back to the city. His dad loves taking away things Blaine loves.
“You have a beautiful voice,” he tells Kurt when he finishes the song. “I can’t wait to see you perform on stage”
“I could still do that right, even if we end up dating?”
“You can do whatever you want. I would never expect you to stay home like a 50s housewife. Or my mom,” he adds jokingly. “But she was born rich and was never interested in working anyway. Her ambition was to marry a King, and marry a King she did.”
“I wanna be on Broadway, but I’m starting to think it will always be just a dream,” Kurt confesses. “I can’t even book auditions for off Broadway shows so how will I ever get to Broadway? Apparently, I’m just too strange - even for show business. I’m either not straight enough for straight roles, my voice isn’t right for the good gay roles and I can’t even get the stereotypical gay sidekick roles, there just for laughs and to prop up the main character.”
“You could write your own roles if there aren’t any good roles for you,” Blaine suggests. “More and more people are doing it.”
Kurt shakes his head sadly. “I’m no composer and there are five year olds who play the piano better than me. I tried to write a musical in high school about Pippa Middleton but it was a disaster. Didn’t even finish the first act it was so bad.”
“You’ll find your way, I’m sure,” Blaine smiles and tries not to think about how clueless he is about his own life. Cooper is learning how to rule from their father, but Blaine has no real purpose in life. He wanted to go back to college in the fall and get his degree but there’s no way his dad will let him do that now. He could of course do what his mother does, flit from charity function to charity function to show off fabulous outfits while other people donate money, but he wants more than that. He wants to help people, really help them. Not just donate money to a charity, he’d want to be personally involved.
“You will too,” Kurt says as if he can read Blaine’s mind. “And if your dad is as smart as our ‘benevolent leader’ pretends to be than he’ll also realize that you’re so much more than your sexuality.”
“Sing another song for me,” Blaine changes the subject. “What’s the most difficult song you can sing?”
“I don’t know about most difficult but people are always impressed when I hit the high notes in Defying Gravity,” Kurt says and Blaine’s eyes bulge.
“You can sing Defying Gravity in its original key.” Kurt nods. “Holy shit. Those casting agents must be tone deaf if they don’t hire you on the spot when you can do that.”
Kurt’s cheek flush prettily from the compliment and Blaine makes a note to compliment Kurt more often.
“You haven’t even heard me sing it yet,” Kurt blushes before the opening notes start and Kurt blows Blaine’s mind.
“Wow! Like I said, all tone deaf casting directors.”
Kurt smiles so wide he’s sure all his teeth are on display.
“Coffee break? And as much as I abhor them, I need to use the restroom too,” he asks the Prince when a food exit is announced in 2 miles, his throat a little dry from singing without a proper warm up first. Better not tell his voice coach that he sang Defying Gravity without warming up his voice first.
“Glasses,” he reminds Blaine when he pulls into a parking lot next to a Bagel store, praying that the toilets will be cleaner there than at the gas station. Which reminds him that they probably should fill up the tank too while they’re taking a break.
“Why don’t you use the toilet and I’ll get us coffee and bagels,” the Prince suggests and Kurt accepts gratefully.
“Can you just get me a big black coffee. I’m feeling much better since I took that aspirin, but I have a feeling that I shouldn’t actually be driving yet,” Kurt confesses knowing that Blaine was just as drunk as he was only hours earlier.
“I totally forgot about that with all the chaos,” Blaine admits. “Should we take a longer break or rent a room so you can lay down for a bit?”
Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m going to feel really safe until we’ve made it to my dad’s and he’s expecting us tonight. I can’t tell him that I drove for an hour only to realize that my blood alcohol level might still be a tiny bit over the legal limit. He owns a car shop where he gets wrecks all the time - he’d kill me.”
“As long as you’re sure you’re okay to drive. I would offer to drive instead but I drank just as much and I don’t even have a license.”
Kurt quickly takes care of business in a thankfully clean bathroom before switching with Blaine.
“Be honest,” he says as they walk back to the car, coffee in hand and bagels in a paper bag, “would you even get arrested or let off with a warning?”
“Oh definitely arrested, mostly to prove that the royal family doesn’t get preferential treatment in all aspects of their lives. My family’s publicist is very good about keeping it out of the papers though. Or did you hear about the one time my brother got arrested for smoking pot in a public park idiot that he is. My dad was so mad, he threatened to make me the next King instead. Obviously that was before he found out I’m a faggot.”
“Don’t call yourself that,” Kurt admonishes between bites from his cream cheese bagel. “And no, I haven’t heard about that.”
“That’s how good Sue Sylvester is,” Blaine nods. “If I had time to warn her she probably would have been able to make the video go away as well or convince everyone that the person with the crazy hair was definitely destined for the loony bin but not the Prince.”
“You really would have gone through with it, wouldn’t you? You would have married your girlfriend just to keep your family happy no matter how unhappy you would have been yourself.”
Blaine shrugs helplessly. “It’s how I was raised. The Crown always has to come first.”
The Prince stays in the car while Kurt fills up the tank and keeps his head down as he pays in cash. There are two women in their late forties sitting at the counter discussing the royal scandal while Kurt pays and he lingers a moment longer to hear what they’re saying.
“The morning news said the Palace tried to spin it as the Prince spending some time with friends from boarding school but then the Prince himself tweeted and now they’re pretending everything’s okay and the family’s speaking with the Prince right now. Wouldn’t be surprised if he comes out after saying that he was just nervous about his wedding and confused feelings of friendship with love. Wouldn’t be the first celebrity to try to pull that shit. Should have heard my son this morning, saying now that the Prince’s gay it’s okay that I’m gay, right mom. It’s not me he has to convince, he was always alright in my book.”
Kurt heads back with a smile on his face and reports to Blaine what he overheard in the gas station.
“See, you’re already helping people and your news is barely three hours old.”
“I guess,” Blaine nods. “And at least the Palace isn’t publicly looking for me. Wouldn’t sound good if they had to admit that they lost me.”
“I won’t get in trouble for taking you out of the city, right? Like, there’s no rule that says you can’t be out and about without a security guard?”
Blaine shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to be out without security, but there’s no actual law that says I’m required to have a personal guard like Cooper. I have security for big, public events but as long as Cooper is the Crown Prince, my safety is not that important. And until this morning, barely anyone knew I was back from overseas. I begged my mom not to release a statement when I got back so I could enjoy the city for a bit without being stalked by paparazzi. I’m afraid that’s going to change now though once I get back to the city.”
Kurt wonders what it will mean for him, once the media finds out who he is. Will paparazzi follow him too or will he be able to just go back to his old life? He never thought about fame the way some of his classmates do. He doesn’t want to be on stage to become famous, he wants to be on stage because he loves performing more than anything in the world. And if he ever became famous, he always assumed it would be for his work and not for a one night stand with a member of the royal family. Maybe he and Blaine can say they’ve been going out for a while already, but he doesn’t know how long he and the Prince were followed the night before. If one of the reporters already followed Blaine into the bar, then it would be hard to deny that the Prince picked him up at Scandals. Scandals indeed.
They are nearing Pittsburg when Kurt’s dad calls and Kurt accepts the call through the inbuilt hands free system.
“Hi dad,” Kurt says quietly trying not to wake the Prince who’s fallen asleep a few miles back.
“Kurt,” his dad says and he sounds pissed. “Care to explain why in addition to half a dozen royal guards there are reporters from the Columbus Sun at my house.” Oh oh.
“Not particularly,” Kurt winces. “At least not over the phone. I assume you’re not alone.”
“Uh, uh. So the guards want to know where you are and the press would like to know how long my son’s been sleeping with Prince Blaine because there are rumors that he picked you up at a bar last night. I already told the guard that you’re either in New York or visiting that crazy friend of yours Showbaby in Pennsylvania.”
“Starchild,” Kurt corrects automatically, silently thanking his dad for thinking on his toes and vowing to turn off his cellphone as soon as the call is over.
“What I’d like to know is why reporters think you took Prince Blaine home with you last night.”
“Because I did.” There’s no use denying it if it’s already a rumor that’s circulating.
“Because he lost his keys and you decided to help him out.”
“Oh my god, Dad. Do I really have to say it. But if it helps I didn’t know who he was when I took him home.” And now think about that sentence again, Kurt. “Shit, I mean I didn’t know he was the Prince, he gave me a fake name.”
“And you took him home, Jesus Christ kiddo, have you lost your mind. He could have been a murderer and a thief, what were you thinking?” Kurt winces and next to him Blaine stirs.
Kurt reflexively presses a hand over Blaine’s mouth because if the royal guards are listening in, they can’t hear the Prince in his car.
“So you are making me say it,” he replies through gritted teeth. “I went to a bar, I met a cute guy, we got drunk together, we went back to my place and had sex. In the morning I found out he was the Prince when reporters showed up at my building. Happy.”
“Try again. And trust me, the next time I see you in person, we’ll talk about how I’ve raised you better than this. If I have to come to New York to do it. In the meantime, what did you do with the Prince?”
“He went home once the reporters left. Said he’ll give me a call at some point, but I doubt it. There’s a reason they call them one night stands,” Kurt winces again as he says it but if it helps get the royal guards off his dad’s property he’ll be direct for a moment.
Next to him, Blaine’s eyes are wide, having cottoned on to the fact that Kurt’s talking to his dad.
“Like I said, we’ll talk about that the next time I see you. Before I let you go, we’ve finally managed to find a buyer for your grandfather’s lake house. I’ll probably head up there some time soon to make sure there’s nothing in there that we want to keep.”
“Okay. I didn’t…” Kurt stops himself, realizing that his dad’s telling him where to go instead of the house. “I didn't think you’ll find someone before the summer. I would have loved to go there one last time.” He hates that place.
“Alright, give my best to your friends and we’ll talk soon.”
As soon as his dad hangs up, Kurt turns off his phone.
“Did you really just tell your dad that you don’t think I’ll call you because it was just a one night stand?” Blaine asks incredulously.
“There are royal guards at my dad’s place who were listening in on the call. Officially, they’re looking for me because they can’t say they’re looking for you. Dad told them I’m visiting a friend who lives near Pittsburg actually. Too bad we can’t drop by, it’s been months since I’ve last seen him,” Kurt sighs.
Blaine’s face falls. “So we can’t go to your house either. Maybe you should just drop me off at the next motel and I’ll call the Palace myself. I don’t want your family to get into trouble.”
“It’s okay. My dad said we should head to the lake house he inherited from his father. It’s on Lake Erie between Cleveland and Toledo. No electricity or hot water but it should be safe.”
“Sounds great. No electricity means no phones to track and a lake to jump in sounds heavenly right about now.”
Neither of them showered this morning because there was no time nor have they done so the previous night. It’s surprising they don’t stink, at least Kurt doesn’t think they do.
“We didn’t bring any swim trunks,” Kurt points out causing Blaine to chuckle. “What?”
“That’s the biggest problem? We’ll just wait until it’s dark and skinny dip.”
“I can’t go skinny dipping,” Kurt sputters. “What if someone sees us.”
“Eh, what’s one more scandal today,” Blaine laughs almost hysterically. He should probably go back to sleep and rest for a few more hours, but so should Kurt.
“I need to stop for another coffee. Stay in the car,” he instructs the Prince.
“Can you get me a latte and any sandwich that doesn’t look totally disgusting and doesn’t have mayo in it,” Blaine asks after he stops laughing.
“When was the last time you got food from a gas station?” Kurt teases him. “The only things I can get you are with mayo and disgusting. I’ll get us fries at the next fast food chain we pass. That’s always the safest food when you drive across the country.”
“You’re the expert,” Blaine smiles easily and Kurt fights the urge to lean over and kiss the Prince again. They’re too exposed in a gas station parking lot with their faces all over the internet.
“Be right back,” he promises before he walks swiftly into the gas station and orders two coffees.
He’s on his way out, wallet tucked underneath his armpit so he has his hands free to carry the hot coffees when he bumps into a young man about Kurt’s age who’s eyes widen in what seems to be recognition.
“I, I know you,” the guy stutters. “You are in that video with the Prince.”
“What video?” Kurt asks, putting on an Oscar worthy performance if you ask him. “I’ve been driving up from Florida since last night and my phone’s died a while ago.”
“Oh,” the guy’s face falls. “I thought you were him. There’s a video in which the Prince admits his gay.”
“No way,” Kurt exclaims, eyes wide. “Which one?”
“The younger one. I was going to tell you how jealous I am that you got to hook up with the Prince.”
“I wish I were that guy,” Kurt jokes, “but alas. Thanks for telling me.”
He leaves the young man looking after him with a puzzled expression on his face and hurries back to the car, trying not to spill the coffees in his haste.
“Don’t look up,” he tells Blaine when he opens the door for Kurt from the inside. “Some guy recognized me and I’m not 100% sure I convinced him it’s not me.”
Blaine takes the coffees and puts Kurt’s into the coffee holder in the middle console, his eyes fixed on the floor the whole time until they’re back on the interstate.
As promised, Kurt drives them through a drive thru half an hour later and once they are back on the road, Blaine starts feeding him fries so they can eat and continue their journey at the same time. Kurt tries not to jump out of his skin when a fry drops in his lap and Blaine picks it up, his hand lingering a bit longer than strictly necessary.
“Are you trying to get me to crash the car?” Kurt asks, cheeks heating up.
“To be honest, that’s the only reason why I haven’t tried to blow you yet. I’m a little afraid we’d end up in a ditch.”
Kurt promptly chokes on a bit of fry in his mouth. He’s not used to guys being so blunt - at least not when they’re sober. His first boyfriend had turned out to be a cheating Lothario, but he’d never talked dirty to Kurt. Not that he considers what Blaine’s saying dirty talk, he’s not that naive.
“Maybe later,” he forces himself to reply, because the thought of Blaine’s head between his legs for a second time makes his blood rush south.
“Yay, skinny dipping and blow jobs - sounds like my kind of night,” Blaine claps excitedly. The Prince sounds so much happier already now that he can be open about himself and Kurt tells him so.
“I guess,” Blaine says. “But there’ve always been guys I could be myself with. As long as they were in the closet too I could safely hook up with them. Because if they had talked, I would have taken them down with me.”
“Oh,” Kurt says because for some reason he thought that closeted prince equalled abstinent prince. “Did you, um, hook up with a lot of guys? I mean, obviously you don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s okay, I’m not ashamed of it. Probably around twenty, so not that many. You must have had suitors too. Just look at you.”
“I haven’t had much luck dating,” Kurt confesses. “And after my first boyfriend turned out to be a lying, cheating asshole I didn’t want to for quite a while. Most guys I’ve met since were just interested in a hook up and - I’m not judging you - but that’s not for me. I’ve never just hooked up with a guy before I met you.”
“Why did you?” the Prince asks sincerely not like he’s fishing for compliments.
“I’m not sure. You were cute, nice and funny, you didn’t pressure me to hook up in the bar and the many Gin and Tonics and the tequila shots probably had something to do with it as well,” he says honestly.
“Well, one of the first things you told me was a story about that horrible guy who’d ask you to join him in the bathroom for a quicky. I couldn’t tell you that I’d basically approached you because you were hot and sitting by yourself. But then we started talking and I didn’t want to just hook up and leave because I really enjoyed talking to you.”
I’m glad you didn’t hit on me when we met, Kurt thinks. I would have told you to fuck off if you had.
Once they are done with their food - Blaine opting for a Big Mac with his fries because as a kid growing up in the Palace he was never allowed fast food - he throws the wrappers into the back of the car. At some point he should probably text Wes whose car they are currently driving through Pennsylvania, but his friend from boarding school in England is currently trekking through South America as a last hooray before he starts his law career. Right now, Wes is probably the only friend who hasn’t heard the news yet and Blaine wonders how many friends he still has now that his sexuality is out in the open.
The sun is still high up in the sky when Kurt stops the car next to a small cabin a few hours later. The Prince is holding a family sized meatlovers pizza that they’ve picked up on the way to the cabin, the mouth watering smell filling the car for the past fifteen minutes. Kurt climbs out of the car first and gets the key from its hiding place under a rock Kurt had painted when he was young and his mom still alive. After making sure no one else is around he unlocks the door and motions for Blaine to join him.
Kurt’s late grandfather’s cabin consists of a kitchen - dinning - living room area, a toilet, small bedroom with a queen sized bed and another bedroom with two bunk beds. Blaine immediately falls in love with the outdoor shower that Kurt hated the most whenever they spent time at the lake even though it’s shielded from the neighbors and whoever else is in the cabin.
“I think it’s cool. You can look out at the lake while you shower but no one can see you,” Blaine gushes.
“So what first?” Kurt teases him after unloading the car. “Pizza, shower, blow job or skinny dipping?”
“Definitely pizza first, I’m starving. Then blow job in the shower and skinny dipping when it gets dark,” the Prince grins and grabs the first slice of pizza.
They eat their pizza out on the porch overlooking the lake, watching the sailboats slowly head back for shore and a lone swimmer practicing his backstroke. Both of the neighboring cabins seem empty and Kurt and Blaine enjoy the quiet after the day they’ve had. They eat the whole pizza and when they’re done, Blaine offers him his hand to help him up.
“So, about that shower. Are you going to join me?” the Prince asks.
Kurt only hesitates for a moment before he nods because he’d be crazy to say no to this. Blaine’s already seen him naked and the sex couldn’t have been too bad if the Prince’s that interested in an encore. Still, he can’t stop his cheeks from flushing when Blaine grabs him by the hand and starts stripping as soon as they are in the outdoor shower area. He turns the water on while Kurt follows suit more slowly - there is a difference between taking your clothes off drunk and doing so sober - and steps under the spray.
“It’s not cold, why is it not cold?”
“Solar panels,” Kurt points to the roof and joins the Prince. “My dad installed them a few years ago so we could use the cabin all year.
The water’s not as hot as he usually likes it, but it’s still very warm outside and he is sharing the shower with a gorgeous man, so Kurt doesn’t complain. The Prince lets him wash his hair while he runs his soapy hands all over Kurt’s body and Kurt decides to stop thinking and just enjoy. His brain fully shuts down when after their hair and bodies are clean, the Prince sinks to his knees in front of Kurt and makes good on his promise.
It’s even better than last night, Kurt thinks, when the Prince hums around him and Kurt lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, praying that they really are alone.
“Holy shit, Blaine,” he cries out, and it’s the first time he’s called the Prince by his name even though he’s had permission to do so for hours, but it’s easier in the throws of passion.
His hands are back in the Prince’s hair and Kurt’s so close he’s shaking when he’s hit by a metaphorically bucket of ice.
“Kiddo, you out back?”
Responsible adult PSA: Don't drive a car if you've been out drinking all night and only got like 4 hours of sleep