#klaine fic
I finally got around to registering for an Archive of Our Own account, and am in the process of reposting G&G there. You can find it at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13443303
G&G has now been fully reposted to AO3, as have my previous fics.
My plans to revise G&G as a non-fanfiction novel have been on hold, but going through it again to repost it did make me excited to get back to that. Unfortunately my job has been very demanding recently and I haven’t had much energy for creative writing, but I am hoping things will ease up by the summer.
I finally got around to registering for an Archive of Our Own account, and am in the process of reposting G&G there. You can find it at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13443303
- Klaine Spring Fling:insidious
- Words: ~2100 words
- Rating: Teen and up
- Summary: Blaine wonders out loud if Kurt wishes he could go on a date with another guy.
This is part of my Mormon!Klaineuniverse. It takes place after Distractions, on the same evening.
My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)
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“You never cease to surprise me,” said Blaine as they arrived back at the apartment from English group. “Accepting concert tickets from Chandler Kiehl. So …” He searched for the perfect word, but couldn’t land on it. Well, the closest approximation of what he meant would have to do. “Unorthodox.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said Elder Hummel. “We’re allowed to accept gifts from investigators within reason. And it’s classical music, which classifies it as a cultural event. I’m sure President Steele will be fine with us attending.”
“Yeah, but we just did Georgiritt on Easter Monday. Wasn’t that a cultural event, too? And we only get one a month.”
“That was April. The concert’s in May.”
Blaine went over to the bookshelf and began putting away the Books of Mormon and pamphlets they hadn’t managed to place with new investigators. “Right. And I agree with you that President Steele will probably be fine with it. I’m just surprised you are. You always struck me as a bit to the right of President Steele when it came to rules.”
“It’s church, not politics.” Elder Hummel sat on the loveseat to unlace his shoes.
“Fair enough.” Blaine tucked his English-teaching resource book into its place on the shelf. The group had gone well. Chandler had stayed, and Dolcezza and Harmonie showed up, and Samir and Nuriya stopped by for the second half. The conversation was so dynamic, Blaine had been able to set aside a thought that had begun niggling at him since Chandler’s confession. But now, as he was winding down from the bike ride, it started up again, like fallen hair tickling the back of his neck.
“So,” Blaine started, glancing over to make sure Elder Hummel wasn’t looking at him, and then carefully turning to face the bookshelf so the words would sound casual and spontaneous and, maybe, almost inconsequential. “You didn’t seem too surprised when Chandler mentioned wanting to take you out on a date.”
“Areyou surprised?” Elder Hummel slipped off his shoes and set them on the low rack next to the front door.
“That he’s interested in dating you? No. But that he actually went out and bought concert tickets? Yes.”
“Well,” said Elder Hummel, disappearing around the corner into the bathroom, “He sort of mentioned it on Sunday. You know, when we were at the park.”
Blaine heard the creak of a pipe, followed by water flowing out of the bathroom faucet. He knew Elder Hummel wouldn’t be able to hear anything he said over the running water. He wondered if this was Elder Hummel’s way of attempting to end the conversation.
Blaine looked inside his bag one last time to make sure no stray bits of literature were floating around in there. He lifted it onto his shoulder and walked to the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame to watch Elder Hummel splash his face three times before turning off the water. “He asked you out on Sunday?”
“Not exactly.” Elder Hummel grabbed his hand towel from his assigned hook and began patting himself dry.
“And you said—?”
“No, of course.”
“You could’ve told me, you know.”
“It didn’t seem that important.”
“But it is important, right? How often do you get asked out by a guy who’s super hot in gym shorts?”
“That’s so superficial.” Elder Hummel replaced his towel on the hook. “Anyway, since I’m not going, why does it matter?”
Blaine looked down at the floor. He wasn’t sure if he should say it. He wasn’t even sure if he meant it. But he had the same feeling that he got when he felt prompted to go off script in a discussion with a challenging investigator. It was like the Holy Ghost was right at his shoulder, whispering into his ear what he should say. “If you want to go out with him, you can.”
For the first time since they had gotten home, Elder Hummel looked Blaine directly in the eye. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s against the rules.” He walked past Blaine and out into the hallway.
Blaine followed him. “I know, but— If you want to, you can break the rules. I don’t have to go to the concert with you. I mean, I’d like to, but— It was Chandler’s idea. And he’s the one who paid for them. And I’m sure you think I’ll go to hell for suggesting this—”
“There is no hell.” Elder Hummel was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, aggressively removing his necktie.
“—but I’ll cover for you. If you want to go out with Chandler. Because … Because you’re important to me and I want you to be happy.”
“The church makes me happy.”
“I know, I just—”
Elder Hummel spun around. He glared at Blaine for a nanosecond before walking over to the dresser and folding his tie into a compact bundle and setting it away in its drawer. “And for the millionth time, Chandler doesn’t. Not just because it’s wrong and it breaks the mission rules, but because it’s Chandler, OK? He’s nice. Sometimes he’s even funny. And yes, I did flirt with him, but that’s because I was being an idiot. Really, really, truly, I do not have any romantic interest in Chandler Kiehl. And it’s very confusing to me that you went from hating him to wanting him to be my boyfriend.”
“I don’t want … It’s just, you said he wasn’t that stupid to think you might want to go on a date with him. So I thought—”
“It wasn’t stupid because we’re friends, and I like him as a friend, and sometimes people wish that their friends were interested in them as more than friends. But just because a person wishes for something with a friend doesn’t mean their friend will feel the same way back. And that’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings that aren’t reciprocated. It doesn’t make you stupid. It just makes you human.”
Blaine’s head spun. “Wait. I’m confused. Whose feelings in this scenario are unreciprocated?”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Chandler’s.”Elder Hummel slammed the drawer shut, the sound of wood-on-wood banging in time with Chandler’s name. “Not that it matters. I’m gay and I’m on a mission and I don’t date. It’s not like I didn’t know what the rules were coming into this.”
“Right. But you didn’t know what the rules were when you were born into the church, either.”
“Says the guy who thinks everything was already decided in the pre-existence.”
It seemed unfair for Elder Hummel to bring up their diverging beliefs about the pre-existence, but Blaine couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.“I never said that. I just said— I just said I knew you and I promised to look for you.”
Elder Hummel rolled his eyes and huffed. Blaine felt a twinge in his side. “And if that’s true, then what my seminary teacher said is true: We chose all the important people we would have in our lives. We chose our parents because we wanted to be born into the covenant. We wanted to grow up in righteousness.” He grabbed his pajamas out of the bottom drawer and headed back toward the bathroom.
“Maybe we chose our parents. Maybe not. But it’s not like we knew in the pre-existence who would become a Mormon and who wouldn’t. I mean, that’s the whole point of leaving the preexistence to get a physical body. So you can make your own choices, free of the influence of—" Blaine wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. They were back in the bathroom. Elder Hummel was facing the mirror, undoing the top buttons of his shirt.
“Can I maybe take my shower now?” Elder Hummel said, meeting Blaine’s eyes in the mirror. “By myself?”
* * *
Blaine wasn’t in the mood for a shower. Or for changing his clothes. Or for anything.
He hated when Elder Hummel got mad at him. It made him feel so small.
But unless he was going to sit on the loveseat and mope, or go over to Dani’s and bribe Stürmchen into cuddling with him, there was nothing to do but get ready for bed.
He changed out of his clothes and put a clean set of garments on. It was warm outside, and he would have been perfectly happy to go to sleep in just his underwear. But they still needed to pray together, so Blaine put on a pair of pajamas—the same pair he had worn his first night in Ingolstadt, navy with white piping around the edges.
He could still remember maybe the look on Elder Hummel’s face when he came into the bedroom that night and saw that their PJs were almost an exact match. His expression had been one of absolute delight.
Blaine had thought, back then, that they would be two peas in a pod. But they weren’t, were they? Blaine loved Elder Hummel with all his heart, but they weren’t the same. They saw things so differently. Sometimes, those differences fit neatly together, like water in a cup. One was loose and flowing, the other hard and immutable. And yet, when they came together, they took on the same shape. They belonged together.
Other times, though, the edges didn’t match up, no matter how hard Blaine tried.
Blaine sat on his bed and opened his scriptures to a random section, closing his eyes and resting his finger on the page, the way his mother had taught him to when he needed guidance. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes. Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?
The passage said nothing about fitting. It said nothing about ease. But still, it was better to share your life with someone else, to care for each other in any way you could. It was always good to love. Even if, right in this moment, it hurt.
Maybe the reason it hurt wasn’t the love part. Maybe it was Blaine—always trying to fix things, always wanting peace, never wanting disagreements to come between them. Maybe not wanting it to hurt was what made it hurt in the first place. Maybe Blaine was caught in an insidious cycle of fear leading to more fear.
But the scripture said two are better than one not because it kept anyone from falling; but because, if one or both of them fell, they could help each other up. If one or both of them was overwhelmed by the coldness of the world, they could make each other warm.
* * *
“I’m sorry,” Elder Hummel said when he came into the bedroom. His hair was wet. His pajamas were unbleached linen. “I was short with you. I know you’re just trying to help.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Blaine said. “Maybe I try to help too much?”
Elder Hummel sat down on the edge of Blaine’s bed. “Sometimes.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“I know.” Elder Hummel sighed, as if that knowledge was a burden.
“Do you not want me to?”
Elder Hummel shook his head. “No. It’s not that. It’s just— Sometimes it hurts. I guess because I’m used to being on my own? Watching out for myself, you know? It’s hard to explain.”
“You don’t have to,” Blaine said.
“I don’t know. I always thought I was a pretty self-confident person. I never thought I had any trouble seeing my own value. But it feels sometimes like you care more about me than I do. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
Blaine reached for Elder Hummel’s hand. The ends of their sleeves touched, Blaine’s with its bright white piping, and Elder Hummel’s with its flaxen earthiness. The tones didn’t match, but they were pleasing together, all the same. “You don’t have to do anything with that. I don’t want to make you upset. I just want to be your friend. To lift you up, when I can. That’s all.”
Elder Hummel gave Blaine a shy, sad smile. He laced his fingers with Blaine’s. “I’m sorry that sometimes I have a hard time accepting it.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You’re the way you are for a reason. Maybe I shouldn’t push so much.”
“Well, maybe.” Elder Hummel made a half shrug. His smile grew wider. A bit sly. “Or maybe it’s good for me. I don’t know.”
“Good. Because I know even less,” said Blaine. He felt a warm glow in his chest, much like the one he had felt at the Schönfeld’s piano. He squeezed Elder Hummel’s hand. “Let’s pray.”
Written for todaydreambelieversprompt: (AU
or Canon Compliant) Blaine and/or Kurt using cheesy pickup lines on the other. For example, could be to seduce or being funny but can be whatever you’d like, wherever you like, whenever you like.
Kurt contemplated the two women in front of him, his eyes narrowed slightly as he swallowed the final mouthful of his drink. “So what exactly are the terms and conditions?”
Santana’s grin widened. “All general cleaning of shared apartment areas will be done by the two of us for the next month.” She glanced towards Rachel who was nodding emphatically.
“To my standard?”
“To your standard,” both said, holding up crossed fingers.
Kurt leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his fingers. “Ok,” he said after a moment, to which both Rachel and Santana responded with a loud ‘Whoop!’ and high five. “What exactly do I have to do?”
“You have to go up to the next guy who walks through the door and say this,” Santana held up her phone, showing Kurt what was written there.
“You know what,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “That could be a whole lot worse.” Turning in his seat, he directed his eyes to the entry of the bar. No cleaning for a month. He could do this.
In which Blaine stumbles upon a bookstore in search of a birthday present and finds so much more. ~3K. Cotton candy fluff. Klaine. Written for klaincheltina ♥ ao3 link
It started with a quest for the perfect birthday present.
For his birthday, Tina had bought him The White Album, on vinyl, and although they had a thirty dollar limit, he was pretty sure she had cheated. He had no idea how he was going to top that, but he had to find something at least equal to it.
So his quest had begun. Blaine had been to what must have been hundreds of shops, but nothing felt right or fell within his price range. Today he was scouting through Chelsea, thanks to a recommendation by his work friend, Lena, who told him of this unusual, cheap, and not overly hipster vintage shop. Blaine glanced down again at the address on his phone and when he looked up, he saw it: a black cat, sitting in the window of a store across the street.
This post appeared on my dash (thanks to slightestwind) and I just had to write the thing uwu
The first thing Blaine is aware of when he wakes up is how pleasantly warm he is. It’s a nice afternoon in early July, the sun shining brightly, but not too hot, the cool breeze making the temperature just perfect.
Wait, breeze? Oh, they must have forgotten to close the window before they decided to take a nap.
As Blaine fights off sleep and slowly grows more aware, he realizes that the sun is not the only source of warmth. He’s snuggled up to Kurt, their legs intertwined, Blaine’s arm thrown over Kurt’s waist. A smile forms on Blaine’s face at the realization. For a moment, he feels utterly content.
Title:The Unexpected Blind Date
Author:Fhartz91
Word count: 15k
Chapters:4
Pairings:Kurt/Blaine
Rating:NC-17
Summary:Kurt is stuck in his apartment over Valentine’s Day, working frantically to finish an assignment for school, when a man shows up at his door claiming to be his date for the evening.
Summary: The first time Kurt realizes that Blaine thinks he’s cute…or hot…or whatever (Takes place between ‘Sexy’ and ‘Original Song’)
Words: 760
More Tiger Less Penguin
“You will never believe what I just had to endure,” Kurt picks up the phone as soon as he has stuffed the pamphlets under his secret bucket list, under his secret musicals-for-a-bad-day collection, in his secret drawer, as far down and out of his mind as he can possibly put them.
But still he calls Blaine. To tell him. He knows he’s been firmly ‘friend-zoned’. He may be inexperienced but Blaine made that much clear. But Blaine is still his best friend. His gay best friend whom he can talk to about these things. He’s his person. Friend-zoned or not.
Fic: Sweet Victory
Rating:PG
Word Count:~1300
Summary: Kurt and Blaine meet as competitors in a baking contest.
Note: I was allowed to participate in the klainebookproject‘s 2015 book, That’s a Wrap! and this is the fic I contributed. I also got the opportunity to work with crazie-crissie, who created absolutely adorable art for this story.Kurt tapped his foot impatiently and glanced at the clock on the wall of the bakery. He had to be at work in twenty minutes and had been waiting in line for what felt like hours. He huffed in annoyance as the customer in front of him took his sweet time trying to figure out whether he should buy scones or cinnamon rolls. The girl behind the counter – Remy, according to her name tag - looked just as annoyed as Kurt felt, and they shared a look of silent camaraderie as the customer changed his mind for the millionth time.
Once it was finally his turn, Kurt quickly ran off his order and as his box of sweet treats was prepared, he noticed a flyer taped to the front of the display case announcing a baking competition.
Summary: If Kurt get’s right down to it, the reason he avoids working on the spring musical has nothing to do with the musicals themselves and everything to do with Blaine Anderson, band director.
Authors Note: Based on this loosely thisprompt:we’re both high school teachers and our students ship us together but I won’t let them tell you au.
This story is also heavily borrowed from my sister, deanharrisackles, and her experience in the orchestra of our high school production of Kiss Me, Kate.
Word Count: 5,598
OnAO3
Kurt and Blaine are neighbors that meet properly for the first time when they’ve both been up all night, and Kurt’s out of coffee.“Hold the elevator!”
Kurt quickly puts his foot between the doors and his neighbor from next door comes in, out of breath.
“Ah, God, thank you.”
“No problem,” Kurt chuckles, taking in the guy’s appearance. He has an 8 o’clock shadow, his hair is sticking out of what must have been a perfect hairdo the night before and it’s clear he hasn’t slept well if at all.
All in all it looks like he’s pretty much had the same kind of night as Kurt.
Based onthis post.
Stuck in the most boring math class in history, Kurt suffers moment of madness and draws two flowers on the notebook of a sleeping jock next to him. Inexplicably, the silly thing leads to a tentative friendship (and then some) between the two. 3000 words of dorky behaviour in a classroom. Jock!Blaine.
Happy Corners
When Kurt was six years old and struggling with learning how to write, his mother helped him keep frustration at bay. She showed him, happily, how the best tactic was to just take a moment to breathe and draw a few happy things on the corner of the paper, so that he could fill it with positive energy. In a matter of weeks he was addicted to what he liked to call “happy corners”. As he grew up, he continued the practice, often times introducing it to his friends or stealthily filling his classmates’ notebooks with surprise happy corners, more out of fondness for it, than actual necessity; and when his mother died, it felt like a way to keep her always in his life.
