June 21, 2012, 9:56 a.m.
No Man's Land: Chapter 9
T - Words: 1,814 - Last Updated: Jun 21, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 12/? - Created: Oct 09, 2011 - Updated: Jun 21, 2012 882 0 1 0 0
The house could fit in Kurt's entire house with room left over still. It had long widows and balconies - fitting for a douchebag like Blaine. Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt. "Shut up, Hummel. You know you'd love to live here."
Kurt huffed, his breath ruffling his gelled-back bangs onto his forehead.
They had taken Blaine's car - there was no way in hell Kurt was getting on that motorcycle - to his house. Kurt was still a bit mad that Brittany would make him work with the hobbit without even thinking about him! How could she have done this to him? Even more weird: Why did Blaine want to be partners with him? God, Kurt didn't even really care actually - he just wanted to go home already.
They walked, well - Kurt trudged - into the overbearingly neat house - like seriously, even Kurt's room wasn't this clean - and then they got to Blaine's room.
Kurt laughed.
"What?" Blaine glared.
"T-this is your room?" Kurt giggled at all the plaid. The Blaine he knew would never live in a dump like this.
Blaine glared at him again and turned on the stereo to block out Kurt's voice. "Wooow, you are so fake."
"And you're an asshole who's obsessed with how tight your clothes are and mainstream music," Blaine replied back icily. "We all can't be perfect."
Kurt sent him a glare before seating himself in a chair. "Well, I don't even know what we're doing here. Brittany and I were almost finished with the project, I'm sure I can get it done myself."
"Aw, but that's not teamwork!" Blaine whined jokingly.
So for the next hour, they worked. And it was...okay, Kurt realized. Turns out Blaine wasn't as big of an airhead as he had thought. Granted, he did get distracted quite a few times when a favorite song would come up or sometimes he wouldn't stop talking about the latest celebrity scandals, but there than that, it wasn't all bad. He knew tons about musical and some foreign films. So for and hour they chatted about what type of music was better, whether the Beatles were overrated (Kurt was indignant that they were the best thing ever, Blaine wasn't so sure), and such.
Blaine said, "Don't you think the Beatles are overrated? I mean, I get what they symbolize and all, but who says they're any better than the fucking Beach Boys or even Simon & Garfunkel."
"Umm..everyone..?" Kurt replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're seriously comparing this century's greatest band to the Beach Boys? You've got to be kidding me."
By the time Kurt had to leave, the tension between had dissipated somewhat. Kurt was scared he had actually begun to like the kid.
A stupid thing to be worried about, right? Who doesn't like making friends? It's like being afraid of kittens, really. But Blaine wasn't a kitten. He was a cowardly, but vicious nonetheless dog. He barked at the terrified, innocent kittens and their mommies just because he was a narrow-minded mutt that thought kittens were lazy and didn't like to play games or have fun.
Kurt was a kitten.
Or maybe he used to be. Maybe Blaine the Dog had learned that cats liked eating and playing as much as the next dog. Maybe Blaine the Dog had evolved.
Kurt mentally slapped himself to stop the crazy cat/dog analogies running through his mind.
Blaine was saying something. "I'm sorry, what?"
Blaine chuckled. "I said don't you need to get home? You said you needed to be home by eight." He indicated to the clock above his desk and he was right, it was 7:30. And Kurt's house was pretty far.
"Yeah, I should get going."
Someone called Blaine's name. "Yeah!"
A woman came to the door. She was quite obviously Blaine's mother. "Oh!" She said in surprise at spotting Kurt. "Who's this?"
When Kurt looked over at Blaine, waiting for him to introduce him, he was confused to see Blaine looking nervous. "This is Kurt."
Blaine's mom appraised Kurt right to the tiniest detail, cocking her eyebrow at the tightness of Kurt's clothes. She looked him right int he eye and Kurt knew she knew. Kurt felt kind of scared. He instinctively moved away from Blaine so she didn't get the wrong idea - but Blaine wouldn't let him move from his seat.
"We're doing a project so can you do the fucking hourly checkup another time?" Blaine snapped, obviously not enjoying his mother's presence as much as Kurt.
"Watch your language," Blaine's mother snapped. "You never know what kind of gossip people will start." She stared openly at Kurt with the last comment.
"Kurt isn't like your old, nasty, country club friends who will spread the craziest gossip for no reason at all except that they're bored, okay? He doesn't spread gossip," Blaine ranted, trying to defend Kurt against his mother's viciousness.
He looked at Kurt then. Kurt had his head ducked and was scribbling nonsense on the corner of a piece of paper. He could practically feel the tension radiating off the boy. He was positive Kurt couldn't get any more uncomfortable until his mother opened her mouth again and said:
"I thought it was always the fags who start drama."
Kurt's head snapped up lightning fast, a vicious look on his face. before he could verbally tear Blaine's mother to shreds (Blaine knew he could do it), Blaine immediately got up and advanced on his mother.
"That's it, mom. Get out!' He slammed the door in his mother's falsely-innocent face.
Kurt slumped in his chair, Blaine was leaning against the door. They didn't say anything for a minute.
'God, what the fuck d you say to someone who was verbally gay-bashed by your own fucking mother? How do you make that right?' Blaine thought frantically.
He was worried Kurt would go back to hating him. He was worried Kurt would think he was as homophobic as his mother and never speak to him again.
He pitied himself - and felt bad for it. Pitying himself when Kurt was the one who was harmed. Maybe he pitied himself for having a mother like that.
"Well... that was sufficiently awkward," Kurt muttered.
Blaine knew he shouldn't have, but he did. He laughed. And so did Kurt. And all the tension defused from the room.
Blaine straightened himself out. "I'm sorry about her. I promise I'm not homophobic like my parents."
Kurt looked at him for a moment before agreeing, "You're not."
"I'm really sorry about her," was all Blaine could say. "I never thought in a million years she'd be that rude to you - and you're not even the first gay person she's met! We even had neighbors once with a gay son - she was never rude to them."
Kurt smiled in a knowing way.
"My guess is that you probably didn't spend much time with your old neighbor. So when she was me - a very obvious gay male- sitting in your room, she couldn't help herself."
Blaine didn't say anything, but he knew Kurt's guess was probably right.
"Can you just," Kurt rambled, still a bit shocked and mad. "Can you just take me home?"
Blaine nodded even though he didn't want Kurt to leave feeling like what he must be feeling.
Kurt seemed to sense what Blaine was thinking so he said," It's okay, Blaine. Really. It's not the first time I've gotten comments like that. And they used to come form people who didn't even know I was gay!"
"Yeah, well. Gay or not, you shouldn't have to deal with that stuff."
Kurt nodded with him sadly. "I know, but you cant change people unless they're willing to learn."
Then why don't you teach them?"
"I'd love to try, but I know I won't get very far. Maybe one day, though. You know what they say: 'God didn't create the world in one day.'"
"I thought you were an atheist."
"I don't," Kurt smiled. "But I believe in people - that they're good once they set aside their ignorance and prejudices."
"Are you a Confucist?" Blaine dead-panned.
Kurt laughed. "No, but you don't wanna spend your life being Legalistic either, right? Always believing the worst in people. That's not right."
They were quiet again as they made their way to Blaine's car. Blaine stopped Kurt at the kitchen, though. "I want my mom to apologize."
Blaine dragged his mother out of the kitchen and planted her firmly in front of Kurt with one word, "Apologize."
Mrs. Anderson looked like she'd rather be doing anything else, but one look from her son told her she better get started with her apology. She crossed her arms and said, "I'm sorry, Kurt."
But she really wasn't. Kurt could tell.
He stepped up to her, her eyes narrowed at him. "Te basier."
"I can't believe you did that!" Blaine laughed, slamming his hands against the wheel. "I'm so glad my mom isn't fluent in French!"
Kurt was glad, too. She had merely knit her eyebrows together in confusion when Blaine had exploded into laughter.
"Yeah..well," Kurt laughed. "Maybe I don't have as much patience for homophobes as I thought."
They laughed all the way back to Kurt's house.
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt said, when he's at his house.
"Later."
He hadn't been in the house two minutes before the bell rang.
"Okay, come on, Blaine. It wasn't that funn- Oh! Hi, Beatrix!"
Beatrix was looking at him with a peculiar expression. Kurt was worried he'd done something wrong. "Uh...Bea?"
"I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out," she said. "And then I saw you getting out of that with with Anderson at the wheel, laughing like you two were the best of friends."
Kurt didn't like her tone. She was trying to make himfeel guilty. "We have a -"
"Project, yeah yeah," she interrupted impatiently. "But that doesn't suddenly mean he's your 'friend', 'kay?"
Kurt shrank back against her glare. What was she talking about? "Bea, I know you and Blaine - ("So now he's Blaine!") - have your differences, but he doesn't seem like a bad guy! And I don't appreciate you telling me who I can be friends with or not. He even defended me against his homophobic mom for hell's sake!"
"Well that's all great and dandy bu- wait!" Beatrix stopped, shock on her face. "He defended you against mom?"
Kurt nodded.
Beatrix was speechless.
The she said in a whisper - something Kurt wasn't supposed to hear - with a disbelieving huff, "Figures. He can stand up for you, but he can't stand up for himself."
"What?"
Bea realized what she said and quickly schooled her face into nonchalance.
But Kurt wasn't ahivng any of that. He knew something was up, there was something Bea and Blaine were hiding from everyone when they amde comment no one understood except themselves. "What are you talking about 'he can't stand up for himself?'"
Bea looked like she wasn't going to answer and Kurt was getting ready to grill her again whens she said, "Why don't you ask your new best friend? It's a story only he can tell."
Comments
relax, your writing is fine. i love this story, remember? sure there are some typos (like switchign letters), but overall story is just fine. you're probably right in that you can't really compare the music of the beatles to simon and garfunkel–i agree that they are not the same genre. when i think of the beatles or the beach boys (yay! my favorite group!), i think of them as rock and roll. but when i think of simon and garfunkel's music (and i've listen to them a lot cuz they're mom's favorite group), i think of them as folk music along with other groups like the kingston trio, chad and jeremy, and peter-paul-and mary. but the thing i love about 60s music is that the songs were meaningful. all the lyrics meant something that was reflective of the then current society. don't believe me? check out american pie by don mclean–count the number of references to 1960s culture. hello, the day the music died? yeah, that was a big one. i glad you noted the french phrase, because checking out in google translate, it translated the 'te' but not the other part. i was going to ask you what it meant. i never thought kurt would ever cuss off an adult, but i guess when pushed to his limits, kurt's capable of anything. very clever doing it in french; i loved that that ignorant woman had no idea that kurt insulted her. can i throw my butter knife at her and hope for an accident???