Dec. 10, 2012, 2:36 a.m.
One More Night: Chapter 2
E - Words: 1,538 - Last Updated: Dec 10, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 5/? - Created: Dec 10, 2012 - Updated: Dec 10, 2012 524 0 0 0 0
Kurt didn’t see Blaine again till the end of the day, when he was walking to his car after glee club he looked up and saw Blaine striding towards him with a grin.
“Hi Kurt” Blaine said as he passed, flashing his dazzling smile at Kurt as he headed to his car. Kurt’s hand flew out to hold onto the side of the car, having to steady himself after a day full of Blaine. Once his dizzy spell had passed, leaving just a white fog in Kurt’s mind, he got into his own car and rushed home, knowing he had to get dinner on before his dad got home and ate something full of fat.
*
“Kurt, as much as I appreciate you cooking me meals, this looks like puke.” Burt Hummel said frankly, grimacing down at the bowl of pea soup his son had just handed him. Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting down with his plate of vegan burgers and lots of salad. “How come you get burgers?!” Burt asked, gesturing towards Kurt’s dinner.
“Because I didn’t have a heart attack that hospitalized me a few months ago.” Kurt retorted, picking up a slice of tomato with a dainty finger.
“That’s was four months ago, kiddo. I’m fine.” Burt reassured his son, reaching across the table to give Kurt’s hand a brief squeeze. Burt took one more look down at his food before tucking in, knowing that if he didn’t eat it now, Carol would make him eat it later. “So how was school?”
Kurt blushed as Blaine’s smile flew into his head, and he cleared his suddenly dry throat in the hopes that his dad wouldn’t notice his red cheeks. “Uh, it’s was fine. How was work?”
“Oh!” Burt said suddenly, as if he’d just remembered something. “That reminds me, do you know a boy called Blaine Anderson?” Kurt choked on a bit of his bread and started having a mild coughing fit, he reached for his iced tea and took a few huge gulps, Burt looking up from his soup with concern.
“You OK, kiddo?” Burt asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Kurt replied with a squeak, “you were saying?”
“Do you know a Blaine? Blaine Anderson?”
“Uh, yeah, he’s in my math class, why?”
“His dad came into the shop today looking for parts, he mentioned a son about your age that went to McKinley so I thought I’d ask.” Burt shrugged, spooning some of the green liquid into his mouth with a deeply disgusted look on his face.
“What?” Kurt asked, I didn’t know Blaine’s dad was into cars. “Blaine’s dad is into cars?”
“Yeah, he’s one cool dude. I was thinking of maybe inviting him over so he can take a look at the seventy three Roadster I’ve been working on in the garage, I’m sure he’d love to see it.”
“Yeah.” Kurt nodded, letting his mind wander to think about what Blaine’s dad would look like. Everybody who’s anybody knows that the Andersons are very wealthy, and reside in house number 84; the biggest house in the whole of Lima. You probably can’t even call it a house; it’s more a mansion with its huge pool and millions of floors. Kurt wondered what it would be like to live in a house that big, and decided that he probably wouldn’t like it; it would feel too empty all of the time, with only him and his dad living there most of the rooms would be unoccupied.
Kurt finished his meal in relative silence, nodding along to the things his dad said without paying too much attention. Carol returned home just as he was letting the water fill up the bowl to wash up, and she insisted on washing up herself and told Kurt to “go and be young”. Kurt kissed her lightly on the cheek, thanking her briefly before he took off upstairs, busying himself with trying to figure out what they were learning today in maths.
*
If you like it then you should have put a ring on it, if you like it then you should have put a ring on it.
Kurt groaned a little in his sleep as his phone blurted out the chorus to one of his all time favorite Beyoncé songs. Once it had repeated itself he reached blindly for his phone, slamming his hand down on the bedside table a million times before he found his phone.
“Hello?” He croaked, putting pressure on top of his nose with his index finger and thumb.
“Hey boo! I’ve been texting you all morning, when do you want to go shopping?” Mercedes’ cheery voice sounded from the phone and Kurt groaned even louder this time.
“Fuck Mercedes, what time is it?!” Kurt demanded, noticing the crick in his neck with a sharp hiss.
“It’s almost twelve Kurt; please don’t tell me I just woke you up?”
“Do I sound like I’ve been up for hours, Mercedes?!” Kurt bit back harsher than he’d intended, apologizing immediately after and explaining that he was exhausted. When they’d arranged a time for Mercedes to come over and pick him up, Kurt hung up and arched his back with a yawn, the bones clicking rhythmically. Kurt lifted himself out of bed and turned on the spot, rubbing the back of his neck as he saw his pillows were pressed right against the headboard, like he’d been moving about loads and pushing backwards in his sleep. Kurt ignored it though; he probably just had a nightmare or something.
When he’d finished his moisturizing routine, he took his sweet time choosing out the perfect “shopping trip” outfit, and then met Mercedes outside.
“I need to update my order of Vogue, they’re not coming every morning as they used to and-“ Kurt paused as him and Mercedes listening to the growling sound Mercedes’ car was making, and then all of a sudden it stopped. Mercedes’ eyes widened as she looked down at the dashboard, knowing immediately what the problem was.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“This has happened before” Mercedes nodded, and Kurt sighed in relief.
“Good, so you know how to fix it?”
“Yeah” Mercedes nodded her head again, “put more gas in.”
“Mercedes!” Kurt cried, looking up to see whose house they’d stopped in front of. Fuck.
“What?” Mercedes asked, following Kurt’s eyes. “Oh shit.” They were parked outside of the Rachel Berry’s house, also known as Ohio’s superstar.
After an argument as to who should go up and ask for some gas, Kurt slid out of the car sulkily and treaded lightly up the limestone path leading to Rachel Berry’s house. It was a nice house, wide, square and brown. There were five floors, one of which Kurt knew was dedicated completely to Rachel. Rumour had it that that one floor had three dance studious, three recording booths and even a sauna. Mr and Mr Berry were two very successful lawyers, who spent a lot of their time in different countries, dealing with clients cases. With both her parents absent most of the time, Rachel didn’t hold back in having as many parties as possible, all of them almost as famous as her.
With one last glance back at Mercedes, who was safely in her broken down car, Kurt rapped his knuckles against the door shakily, hoping to God somebody who wasn’t Rachel answered. The suspense was suffocating as Kurt strained his ears to listen for any noises inside, but there weren’t any. After another minute of waiting, Kurt decided that maybe nobody was home. He turned back to Mercedes and shrugged, before slowing ascending the drive again, desperate to get back to the safety of Mercedes’ car but also not wanting to fall flat on his face.
“Can I help you?” Rachel Berry’s sugary voice said from behind Kurt, his heart dropping to the floor as he stopped. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!. Kurt turned back to the door to see Rachel standing there, clad in a dressing gown that barely grazed her knees.
“Oh..umm...my name’s K-Kurt, Kurt Hummel. My friends’ car just broke down outside your house, and I was just wondering if you had any gas we could use.” Kurt said in a rush, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I’ll pay you back I swear, Miss Berry.” He added, walking back up the drive nervously.
“Oh.” Rachel seemed quite surprised at the request, pursing her lips a little. “Uh...I think my dad’s probably have some in the garage, hang on just a second.” With that she was closing the door in Kurt face, and he heard her shout something up the stairs. Kurt stood on her doorstep, shifting from foot to foot, unsure as to whether Rachel was actually going to come back.
Kurt froze a little as he heard a man’s voice from inside, a voice that was sickeningly familiar.
“Who’s at the door?” The voice asked, and you could hear the frown in his tone.
“I don’t know, Kurt somebody. He wants gas.” Rachel replied, and Kurt was sure he could hear the slight ruffle of her robe as she shrugged her shoulders.
Just then the door was flung open to reveal Rachel, standing right next to a grinning Blaine. Kurt almost passed out.