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Cerriddwen
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Be Still, My Foolish Heart

I wouldn't know where to start Sweet music playing in the dark Be still, my foolish heart Don't ruin this on me


T - Words: 2,387 - Last Updated: Jul 24, 2023
628 0 0 1
Categories: AU, Romance,
Characters: Blaine Anderson, Brittany Pierce, Burt Hummel, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel, Quinn Fabray,
Tags: skank!Kurt, Fanart, jock!Blaine, Mutual Pining, skank!Quinn, Mentions of past Quinn/Puck, Kissing Booths, no sleep we die like writers, a.k.a. I wrote this instead of sleeping, Burt Hummel is the best father,

Author's Notes:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IZ! ♡♡

This story wouldn't exist without your perfectly timed 👀 when I mentioned having a Skank!Kurt fic idea, so I hope you enjoy your present!

 

This fic was written in the hours between 11pm and 5 am, which definitely showed in the draft afterwards. Just ask my awesome friend and beta quizasvivamos, who always makes my writing so much prettier and has also created the incredible art for this fic! ♡

 

Kurt eyed the booth being set up across the cafeteria. "Do I wanna know what those losers are doing now?" he asked Quinn as she slouched against the wall next to him. Rain pounded against the windows, aborting their planned escape to the bleachers. 

 

Quinn shrugged. "Knowing them, some kind of fundraiser probably." She shook her hot pink and purple bangs out of her eyes and fidgeted with her lighter, her gaze lingering on Puck as he flirted with a cheerleader while hanging up a banner proudly proclaiming it to be a kissing booth. "Fuck that shit, let's go. I think I might puke if I have to see Berry pucker up." 

 

Kurt scoffed in agreement and followed Quinn outside, but not before throwing a last glance at the booth where Blaine Anderson, jock extraordinaire and Glee club lead tenor, had joined the pack of rabid vocalists. 

 

As if he could feel his gaze, Blaine turned his head and locked eyes with Kurt from across the busy room. His hand came up in what looked like an aborted wave, and Kurt felt his mouth twitch involuntarily. As much as he had tried to bury it, his crush on his very own boy-next-door was still alive and well. 

 

With a sigh, Kurt turned around and met Quinn's knowing gaze as she held the door open for him. "God, you're so obvious. How he hasn't clued in yet I really don't know. Now come on, I promise his perfect posterior will still be there to drool over later, but lunch is almost over, and if I have to sit through one more class with Miss Priss staring at me without my nicotine fix, I will smack a bitch." 

 

Kurt huffed a laugh and motioned for Quinn to lead the way to the semi-hidden overhang frequently populated by stoners and skanks alike. "Whatever you say, Q. Just do it somewhere I can enjoy the show, would you?" 

 


 

By the end of the day, the heavy rain had turned into a torrential downpour, and flashes of lightning danced across the sky. School had ended an hour ago, and Kurt was cursing his father's rule that he and Finn had to carpool to school together, which meant he was stuck waiting for his brother to be done dancing around before he could go home and catch up on Project Runway. 

 

After what felt like an eternity, Kurt heard footsteps approaching his hiding spot in the library. "Finally. You ready to go? I–" When he lifted his head to look at Finn, he froze at the sight of Blaine, half hidden behind his brother’s massive frame. 

 

"I hope you don't mind," Finn said as he rubbed his neck. "I kinda promised Blaine we'd give him a ride home 'cause Burt's working on his car." 

 

"I… Yeah, sure, whatever," Kurt stammered, trying to look more collected than he felt, being so close to Blaine that he could smell his aftershave. 

 

Blaine's blinding smile nearly took Kurt's breath away, and he had to look down as he collected his books, afraid his overwhelming crush would manifest as literal heart eyes.  

 

"Thank you so much! Mom was supposed to pick me up, but she got called into work, and I wasn’t gonna ruin my new shoes by walking home in this storm." 

 

Blaine gestured at his feet, and Kurt had to bite his tongue to not comment on the logic of wearing suede loafers in the fall, no matter how well they went with his rolled-up dark wash jeans or the red polo that was driving him insane with every peek at Blaine's neck it gave him. 

 

Kurt's skank persona had been carefully cultivated over the years, and it wouldn't do for it to all come falling down now over a pair of warm hazel eyes that he could swear looked straight into his soul. Not even for Blaine, as he stood there so guilelessly happy, his gaze admiring as it passed over Kurt's artfully distressed skinny jeans and perfectly tailored oversized cardigan. 

 

Feeling his face heat up, Kurt quickly walked out of the library and motioned them to follow. "Unless Finn actually remembered to bring one himself, I've only got the one umbrella, so if you want, you can wait by the door while I bring the car around." 

 

"Thanks, bro, you're the best!" Finn's pat on the shoulder nearly sent Kurt stumbling into the door as he slipped out, and he hoped Blaine hadn’t seen him stumble. 

 

The rain, while annoying where the umbrella didn't cover, felt cathartic, and Kurt took a moment to calm his racing heart as he sat behind the wheel of his car, the rhythmic tapping on his windows calming him more than any breathing exercise ever could. 

 

He was going to have to spend twenty minutes in an enclosed space with a boy who made him feel all of thirteen years old again. Kurt took a deep breath and started his engine. 

 

He would not lose his cool. Nobody pushes the Hummels around. Not even teenage hormones. 

 


 

"Penny for your thoughts?" 

 

Kurt looked up from the flames dancing in the fireplace and took the mug of hot chocolate his dad held out to him. "Just thinking about today." 

 

"Ah, Blaine…" Burt said as he settled down next to his son, the warmth of the fire and the rich smell of chocolate filling the air between them. 

 

"How do you know about that?" Kurt asked, shocked. 

 

Burt laughed softly. "Son, you are many things, but subtle isn't one of them. I've known you were in love with him since about three days after they moved in next door and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him as he put together their patio furniture." 

 

Kurt almost choked on his drink as he remembered that day last year. Blaine, shirtless in the hot summer sun, his arm and back muscles flexed as little droplets of sweat made their way tantalizingly slowly down his naked torso and disappeared into his shorts that clung sinfully to his thighs. Kurt had never been more grateful to have his bedroom window look out over the backyard—and more annoyed with his father, who interrupted his musings on just how it would feel to trace the path of those drops with his fingers and even his tongue. 

 

"I - you don't mind?" Kurt asked his dad hesitantly. 

 

"Why would I? Blaine's a good kid, and I trust you. I may not have been ready to talk about boys when you were sixteen, but it's been two years since then, and I'm not gonna delude myself into thinking you'll stay my little boy forever. Just, whatever you do, Kurt, try to let him know the real you?" Burt brushed aside the blue and green highlights from Kurt’s forehead that he had grudgingly allowed him to get and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know why you chose to look this way, and, while I wish it wasn't necessary, I admire you for never backing down and not giving a crap about what the narrow-minded bigots in this town have to say. Remember that this style is only one part of you. Don't put yourself in a box. Let Blaine see the other sides of you, too." 

 

Tears filled Kurt's eyes as he listened to his dad talk. "But what if he doesn't feel the same way? I can't be burned like that again, Dad." 

 

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way that kid looks at you?" 

 

Kurt flapped his hand dismissively. "So he admires my body, that doesn't matter. I know I'm not unattractive, and I dress well. But that doesn't mean he actually likes me as a person. Just because we're both gay doesn't mean he'll automatically fall in love with me, too." 

 

Burt shook his head as he laughed at how clueless Kurt seemed to be. "Bud, that kid looks at you like you've hung the moon and stars. Do you really think he comes over that often for Finn's company? They're friends, sure. But how would you explain the way his eyes are always tracking you, and how he always asks where you are if you're not there?"

 

Kurt felt his face heat up in a way that had nothing to do with the fire merrily snapping away at the logs in front of him. "I…he…he does?" 

 

"Trust me, Kid. That boy is so far gone on you. You have nothing to worry about." 

 

"Oh…" 

 

"Yeah, oh." Burt chuckled as he stood up. "You have a think on that and maybe figure out a plan to get your man. Don't stay up too late, though, kay?" 

 

"I will. Thanks, Dad. Goodnight." 

 

"G'night, Buddy. Love you."

 

"I love you, too."

 


 

Two days later, Kurt and Quinn were once again doing their bit in holding up the walls of the McKinley cafeteria. This time, however, it was not bad weather that kept them indoors, but Kurt's pensive mood. 

 

After the third sigh in as many minutes, Quinn had finally had enough and she smacked Kurt's arm to get his attention, startling his gaze away from where Blaine was amusedly manning the cash box while Brittany handed out kisses like candy. 

 

"That is it! Kurt, I love you but I have watched you pine over that boy long enough. Either you go over there and say something, or I will make you." 

 

"It's not that simple, Q. I've got my reputation to think about, and his too." 

 

"Really, Kurt? You really want to use that argument with me? Reputation doesn't mean shit, and you know it." 

 

Kurt sighed. "I know, but it took so long for the neanderthals to leave me alone. What if they start up again?" 

 

"Then we will make sure they remember their place, just like we did before. You are Kurt goddamn Hummel, and you have been out and proud for years. Now go fucking act on it." 

 

Quinn's fierce encouragement lit a fire in Kurt. "You're right. I will. What about you though? I've seen you do your own fair bit of staring…" 

 

"Don't worry about me," Quinn said, shaking her head sadly. "I’ve burnt my bridges, and only time will tell if they can be fixed. I'll be fine, you secret softie. Now go get him." 

 

Kurt shot her a grin as he adjusted the zippers on his sweater to lie just right, the cold metal along his arms a pleasant contrast with the heat of at least a hundred students packed in the room. He double checked his black skinny jeans were stain free and his combat boots laced up properly before he kicked off from the wall and sauntered away. 

 

As had become the norm, kids scattered out of the way as he walked past them, his skank looks and reputation clearing a path. Feeling his confidence rise at their behavior, Kurt focused his gaze straight ahead at Blaine and stalked over to the booth in what could only be called a murder strut. 

 

A hush fell over the closest crowd as everyone looked on, curious to see what had the prickly recluse so fixated. 

 

Kurt stopped right next to Blaine and stuck a hand in his pocket, looking straight at him as Blaine returned his heated gaze with an amused smile. 

 

"Hi, Kurt!" Brittany cheered from the other side of the booth. "Are you here for some more kisses? You're still the best boy I've ever made out with, you know." 

 

Kurt snorted and briefly glanced over at his technically ex-girlfriend. "Thanks, Britt, but I'm not here for that." 

 

He raised an eyebrow at Blaine, and, after receiving a tiny nod in return, Kurt dropped a handful of cash on the table as his other hand fisted into Blaine's sweater and pulled him close. The entire room seemed to hold their breath for the second it took Blaine to close that last bit of distance.

 

Kurt inhaled deeply through his nose as he finally, finally, felt Blaine's lips on his own. All those months of pining after him, wondering what it would be like to kiss a boy, to kiss Blaine, all that build up poured into the kiss as their lips slid together, mouths opening and tongues sliding against each other, hesitantly at first, but more sure the longer they kissed. 

 

Eyes closed, he slid an arm around Blaine's waist and pulled him flush against his chest as Kurt's other hand crept up to cup Blaine's face. Far too soon, his lungs reminded him that oxygen was not, in fact, a luxury, and they reluctantly broke apart, chasing some chaste kisses as they went. 

 

Kurt pulled back from a wildly grinning Blaine, and his voice rang out through the near silent room. "I'll pick you up at seven." He stepped slowly back and then turned, walking away with as much intention as he’d approached, knowing that Blaine couldn’t look away. 

 


 

Skank Kurt and Jock Blaine leaning in for a kiss at the New Directions' kissing booth

End Notes:

It's not as skanky as I could have made it, cause I wanted to show a kind of Skank!Kurt who is not either just pretending for survival, or incredibly rough around the edges. Yes, he uses his style as an armour and it helps him survive, but it's also genuinely *his* style and not something he'll discard as soon as he gets to New York. Also, good lord but those feels came out of nowhere! Burt Hummel is *the* best father and I love writing him and Kurt =D ♡

Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you think!

~ Gwen ♡

 

Come find me on Tumblr

 


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