Welcome to Westerville Abbey's sequel. This story sets out Kurt and Blaine's first 18 months together in New York City. I think it's important that you've read Westerville Abbey first. I don't spend a lot time introducing the characters and make references to things that have happened in the main story.
The story is fully drafted, and I'm now doing the final editing and polishing up. It's roughly roughly 185k words over 50 chapters. New chapters will be posted twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I live in Thailand and travel a lot, so the timing might vary with time zone changes.
Many thanks to Fearlessly, Lilyvandersteen, and dblmalfunction, who are betas for the sequel. I couldn't have produced this story without their help and exceptional cheerleading skills. Go check out their fics because they are accomplished writers. I made the last-minute edits and proofreading by myself, so all mistakes are mine.
This chapter is set one month after the ending (but not the epilogue) of Westerville Abbey.
April 1920
Kurt
Kurt glances around his room at the boarding house in the Gramercy Park area, and appreciates that he's lucky that Blaine had found it for him last month. It's certainly more spacious and safer than his previous digs in Hell's Kitchen at El Fey Club. He wants to make little changes so that it feels homier, like buying new curtains and even a knick-knack or two, but he'll wait until he has enough money saved up. He smiles when he sees the second small bed pushed against the north facing wall. True to her word, Mrs Murphy, the boarding house owner, provided it for when Blaine 'needs' to spend the night after working extra late hours at Healy's Tavern. His Irish landlady doesn't need to know that the second bed has never been slept in. They merely rumple the sheets in the morning to give the illusion it's been used.
When Kurt descends the staircase, he sees Mrs Murphy entering the boarding house after her mid-day shopping trip, and immediately takes the food bags from her arms and carries them into the kitchen.
"Thank you, Kurt. You're such a gentleman. You'll be pleased to know that I found Tetley tea today in the grocery shop. Buying those new-fangled Lipton tea bags was a huge mistake."
"You're right, Mrs Murphy. A proper cuppa is like a taste of home."
Kurt unpacks the bags while Mrs Murphy stashes the items away. "Now that you've been working at Healy's Tavern for a couple of weeks, are you feeling settled in your new job?"
"Yes, I am. Although the hours are long, the work is pretty easy, especially for a former footman."
Blaine had been right. After working as a footman at Westerville Abbey to his father's high and exacting standards, working as a waiter in a restaurant is like a walk in the park. He's found that engaging the customers and giving them special advice about the menu are key to receiving really good tips. He'll soon be earning more than Blaine if he keeps it up.
Kurt folds the last of the empty food bags. "I best be off. I promised to arrive early at work to help in the kitchen with a new dessert."
"Oh, will you be seeing Sir Anderson at the tavern? Do you think he might work extra late tonight and stay here with you?"
Kurt isn't sure how to reply. Does Mrs Murphy have her suspicions about what goes on behind closed doors when Blaine sleeps over? He really doesn't want to push his luck. "Err... I'm not sure. If it's inconvenient, I'll make sure he doesn't spend the night."
Mrs Murphy giggles. "Oh, it's not inconvenient at all if Sir Anderson spends the night in your room. If he's here in the morning, I merely want to thank him for sending over that Irish apple cake two days ago. It was absolutely delicious. My Frank and the lads loved it."
"I'll be sure to tell Sir Anderson that. Now if you'll excuse me, I better make my way to the tavern."
Kurt tips his cap before leaving the kitchen and the boarding house. He laughs, thinking of how Blaine is keeping Mrs Murphy sweet by providing her food from the old country. He turns the corner into the back alley and walks swiftly, grateful that the city has collected the bags of rubbish earlier in the day. He thinks that Americans are quite ingenious for no longer burning rubbish, instead using it to fill the wetlands on Staten Island.
When Kurt enters by the tavern's back door, he hangs his coat and cap on an empty hook, and pauses when he reaches the kitchen entrance. Blaine's back is turned, and he's alone. It almost looks as if Blaine is waltzing as he moves down the prep station and reaches for this and that. As Blaine stirs the ingredients in a huge bowl, his tenor voice fills the kitchen.
My baby's lips are sweet, as sweet as sugar cane.
And when my baby kisses me, well I just can't explain.
It seems the sun comes out, keeps shining all the while,
And all the world is filled with love,
Just like my baby's smile!
Kurt leans against the doorframe, sporting a huge grin. It's really wonderful to have Blaine back in his life once again. And to see Blaine so happy in a private moment, singing about him… Well, it's certainly an experience to treasure. Kurt still has to pinch himself sometimes to remember that Blaine is really alive. It's incredible how quickly and easily their lives have become intertwined once again. They've clicked together like puzzle pieces in a matter of weeks.
Blaine performs his distinctive spin and stops halfway when he notices Kurt. His face reddens, and Kurt notices that there are smidgens of flour on his cheeks. Blaine looks simply adorable.
Blaine wipes his hands on a towel as he walks toward Kurt. "Hey, when did you get here? I didn't realize you were in the kitchen."
"Since when does a dapper Englishman say 'hey'? I swear, you're turning into an American more and more each day," Kurt playfully teases.
"I'm just trying out some American expressions. The staff poke fun at me constantly for using proper English."
"If you say something like the bee's knees, whoopee, or baloney, I might have to gag you."
Blaine waggles his eyebrows. "Is that a promise?"
Kurt's body shakes with laughter. While Sir Anderson might be considered a true dapper English gentleman to everyone he meets, Kurt knows that there's a completely different side to his Blaine when they're behind firmly locked doors. "Oh dear lord, Blaine. You are going to be the death of me, but a very sweet one."
"I certainly hope it will be a slow but pleasurable one."
Kurt thinks about how Blaine might look in his bed, spread out naked with his handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. Kurt's cock stiffens at the thought. As he adjusts himself, he looks around to see if anyone might have overheard their conversation. "Is there anyone else here yet?"
"Tom Healy is in the office, no doubt counting the cash earnings from last night. The kitchen staff should be showing up in an hour."
Kurt walks toward the kitchen prep station, needing to clear his mind of delicious daydreams - at least for the time being. "So, how is the sticky toffee pudding going?"
"I've mixed up the batter. It looks a little curdled, but Mrs Sylvester's notes say that it's expected. A test batch is in the oven, and I'm about to make the toffee sauce. Could you please get me the butter and heavy cream from the cool room?"
Kurt retrieves the ingredients and returns to Blaine's side by the gas hobs. Kurt stirs the sauce in the pot while Blaine adds the ingredients.
"Did you get up to anything this morning?" Blaine asks.
"I woke up bright and early, and went to the stationers to get more writing paper and envelopes. I can't believe how much stationery I'm going through now that I'm writing to family and friends at Westerville Abbey."
"I'm so pleased that you're in touch with people who matter to you. I'm sure you brighten everyone's day with each letter."
"I'm glad to be writing again too, although I wish it didn't take so long on the ships for letters to travel," Kurt grumbles.
Blaine laughs at Kurt's impatience. "There's an airmail service between London and Paris, and last year Alcock and Brown had a successful flight across the Atlantic. I'm guessing that in a few years, aeroplanes will cross the Atlantic carrying letters."
"I think you might be right, but I wish it would happen sooner rather than later."
Blaine tests the sauce, and then adds more treacle to the pot. "Do you ever miss being a pilot? There seem to be so many advances in aeroplanes since the Great War."
Kurt stirs the mixture in the pot, thinking about how he'll reply. He has so many mixed feelings about his flying experiences. He eventually shakes his head. "I loved the exhilarating freedom that being in control of an aeroplane gave me. And I must admit that I do enjoy the notoriety of being a flying ace."
"You're certainly my hero," Blaine coos.
A warm feeling pools in Kurt's belly, knowing that Blaine is his number one fan. He closes his eyes, remembering how it felt to have the wind blowing in his face while soaring through the air. But new visions soon appear of his nightly missions across enemy lines.
"It wasn't all fun and games being a pilot for the Royal Flying Corps. There was also a terrifying side to flying during the war."
Kurt clenches his fists until they're white, recalling the deafening rounds of machine gun fire and the aeroplanes spiraling downwards.
"Because of the machine guns?" Blaine suggests.
Kurt nods. "Because of the machine guns. I don't miss having to shoot German aeroplanes down. I've often thought that the German pilots are just normal people with families, who were caught up in a vicious war just like we were. No, I don't miss the machine guns at all."
The kitchen is silent as each man reflects on their experiences during the Great War. After a minute or two, Blaine asks, "Did you do anything else today?"
Kurt is relieved that Blaine has changed the subject from the conversation about the war. Kurt responds with a grateful smile, "I counted my tips from last night. I think I'll have enough money by the end of the month to replace the curtains and get a few things for my room."
"You know I would buy them for you in a heartbeat."
"I know you would, but I don't want you spending your money on me."
"Even if it's to go to the newly opened Cotton Club in Harlem the next night we have off? I've heard they have really great jazz musicians and singers."
Kurt lets out an exaggerated sigh. "In our dreams. You know two men can't spend time in a nightclub together without tongues wagging. We have to be discreet about where we go. The cinema and soda shops are fine, but nowhere that it could be construed as a date."
Blaine's body deflates with that reality check. "How I wish we lived in a different world."
Kurt hates to see the disappointed look on Blaine's face. He would do anything to replace it with his normal sunshiny smile. "Perhaps your Cousin Rachel knows two ladies for us to bring?"
Blaine frowns. "I'm not going to take a lady out on a date and have her think that I'm interested in her. After my experiences during the London season, I promised myself that I would never do that again."
Kurt rubs Blaine's shoulder. "I clearly didn't think that through. You're right. I wouldn't want to deceive anyone either. Perhaps you should discuss it with Hiram and LeRoy; they might have useful advice."
"That's a good idea." Blaine tastes the toffee sauce and takes it off the heat. "Can I ask you for a little favor?" Blaine asks shyly.
"Of course you can."
"I love going out with you, but I can't help thinking that I look so old-fashioned wearing my suits that were made in Exeter before the war. When we go out, I want to look smart for you. Whenever you have the time, could you come with me to buy some new outfits?"
"I don't care what you wear - you still look like Prince Charming in my eyes. I'll certainly help you buy some new clothes, but I have to remind you that I only have two suits, and they're almost as old as yours."
Blaine's face lights up. "I'll buy you a new wardrobe, too."
Kurt rolls his eyes. "You're not spending your money on curtains or knick-knacks or new clothes for me. But there is a new Buster Keaton film opening this weekend."
Blaine laughs. "It's a date. We'll sit in the back row in our old-fashioned suits and hold hands discreetly in the darkened cinema."
When all the sand in the hourglass timer has settled in the bottom bulb, Blaine takes the test puddings out of the oven. He sets two puddings on plates and drizzles the toffee sauce over them while Kurt retrieves two spoons. Blaine carefully scoops up some of the sticky pudding, ensuring that it has the right balance of toffee sauce, and moves the spoon to Kurt's open mouth.
Kurt moans when he experiences the taste sensation. He can tell that a vanilla bean was used while the chopped dates were soaking in boiling water. When Kurt swallows the first bite, he concludes that the warm cake is the very meaning of perfection.
"I gather from the moans that you actually like it?" Blaine asks tentatively.
"Most definitely. Give me some more of the toffee sauce. I think it would also taste great over vanilla ice-cream."
Blaine swirls his finger on the plate until it's coated with toffee sauce, then slips it into Kurt's mouth. Kurt greedily sucks, ensuring he's eaten every last drop. When Kurt notices that Blaine's eyes have darkened, he decides to continue his ministrations, licking and sucking his finger.
"You tease, Kurt! The things you can do with your tongue are positively sinful."
Kurt pulls his mouth away from Blaine's finger with a pop. After slowly licking his lips with Blaine's total focus on him, Kurt confides in a low voice, "Oh, you'd be surprised at the things I can do with my tongue. There are even new ideas I've thought about, things I want to show you."
Blaine gulps and his hand darts under the table. Kurt smugly smiles, knowing that Blaine has a stiffie.
When they hear the creaking of the back door, they straighten themselves and quickly pick up their spoons to continue eating.
"Hello, pumpkins. What are you eating?"
Blaine gets up and dashes to the counter, while Kurt smiles at Shannon Beiste, the new grill chef, who had started working at the tavern a week before he joined. Blaine has confided to him that she's extremely competent in the kitchen, and is much better than Gordon, the current sous-chef. Kurt eyes her uniform; instead of the usual dress and apron, she's wearing trousers and a shirt that other male cooks wear. She's built like a rugby player, and Kurt decides he wouldn't want to get in her bad books on a dark night...or ever.
Blaine sits back down and slides a plate towards the grill-chef. "Miss Beiste, have a taste of today's special. It's called sticky toffee pudding."
"Chef, how many times do I have to tell you it's just 'Beiste'. I want to be treated like all the other guys in the kitchen." Beiste takes a large bite of the new dessert. With her mouth half-filled, she exclaims, "Oh, this is delicious. One day, I'll have to meet this Mrs Sylvester from Westerville and compliment her on her recipes."
All three of them look up when Tom and John Healy burst into the room. "Don't you three have better things to do than sit around and eat cake?"
Blaine stands up and Kurt can tell that he's upset by the white fists clenching the table. "We're here early to cook and taste a new dessert. It'll be a special on this evening's menu." Blaine hands a piece of paper to Tom. "Here's the dessert's name and description for the menu. I've included a rough costing of the ingredients. I'll leave it to you to decide how much to charge. Would you like to taste it?"
Tom shakes his head. "No, if you three are happy with it, then it's good enough for me."
They hear the door opening and closing as the remaining staff arrive for the dinner shift. Blaine asks, "Did you come into the kitchen for a special reason? It's just that the staff are arriving and we need to start the prep work."
John Healy answers, "The mayor is coming with some VIP guests tonight, and we've reserved tables for them. There is already a line around the corner for dinner, and we don't open for another hour. Those customers will want their food right away after waiting so long."
Kurt interrupts, "Excuse me, Mr Healy, but have you considered having a system where all customers can reserve a table and not just VIPs? That way people wouldn't mind being told there are no tables available even though they can plainly see empty tables in the dining room."
John Healy waves his hand dismissively. "That's too much hard work. Why change things when we have no problems filling the seats?"
When Tom and John Healy leave the kitchen, Blaine whispers, "That was a good idea. I don't like that there's one rule for VIPs and another for regular people."
"It's a great idea that fell on deaf ears. I appreciate that you like it, because I'm sure that Sir Blaine Anderson would never have a problem securing a table in any establishment."
Kurt sets down the large round tray of dirty dishes and glasses by the kitchen sink, where Jakub is doing the washing up. The Pole had immigrated to America a few years ago, and he's a conscientious worker. Kurt knows that he's capable of doing so much more, if only he spoke English. Kurt goes to the counter where Blaine and Gordon Morimoto, the sous-chef, are reviewing the menu for tomorrow.
The corners of Blaine's lips jump upward at the sight of Kurt, and his hazel eyes sparkle in the light. "Hi, Kurt. Have all the customers left?"
Kurt nods. "The mayor's party was the last to leave. They were hard work, but at least they were decent tippers."
"I can't believe that the sticky toffee pudding sold out halfway through the night," Gordon comments.
Blaine throws his head back in laughter. "I suspect that it might have to do with a certain waiter who recommended it to all his customers."
"Guilty as charged! But honestly, the sticky toffee pudding sold itself. Everyone wanted to taste the chef's special."
Blaine turns to Gordon. "I think we're done with tomorrow's menu. I'm going to ask Beiste to roast the hams. I think she's ready for the challenge, and it'll lighten your load."
"I think she's ready, too," Gordon replies.
"Could you give the menu to Tom Healy as you leave? I'll check that we have enough hams in the cool room."
"Good night, Chef," Gordon replies before heading out of the kitchen.
"Baked ham again? How original," Kurt smirks.
"There's no denying that it's a popular dish. However, instead of the usual honey glaze, I'm thinking of using apple juice instead. It'll still taste sweet but with a different flavor twist. Will you join me in the cool room to count the hams?"
"How could I refuse such a tempting invitation," Kurt teases, batting his eyelashes.
Blaine checks Kurt's shoulder. "Stop it, you. What did you expect when you're hanging out with a chef?"
Kurt giggles. "I don't know. Maybe oysters, caviar, and chocolate truffles. Certainly not ham."
As they walk towards the cool room, Kurt remarks, "I think that Beiste will be happy to get more responsibilities, like being in charge of roasting the hams."
"I think so, too. Besides, Gordon is a lazy so-and-so. He won't mind one little bit if Beiste does his work for him."
They enter the walk-in cool room and Kurt closes the door to keep the temperature constant. Blaine immediately grabs a step stool and heads to the meat section. Blaine calls out the number of hams on each shelf, and Kurt tries very hard to write them down, but he's distracted by Blaine bending down every so often to move the step stool. When Blaine reaches to count the hams on the top shelf, his shirt rucks up, revealing a slither of skin. Kurt's cock twitches with the thought of going over to touch and taste Blaine.
"Yes, we have enough hams for tomorrow," Blaine confirms, stepping down.
Kurt lets the paper fall to the floor and slowly approaches Blaine. With stormy eyes and licking his lips, Kurt places his hand against Blaine's chest and slowly pushes him until his back is firmly against a shelf. Kurt grabs the front of Blaine's shirt and smashes their lips together, losing himself to the heady sensation. Kurt swipes his tongue over the seam of Blaine's lips, which part almost instantly. Kurt massages their tongues together and tugs on Blaine's curls as he deepens the kiss...demanding, needy, and desperate.
Blaine lets out little breathless whimpers that let Kurt know he's feeling desperate, too. Kurt pushes his right leg in between his lover's, and his hands slide down Blaine's body. Blaine's hips quickly jerk forward, pressing his hard cock against Kurt's thigh. Kurt knows that with a little adjustment, he could get the friction that his cock needs, too. But they're not behind locked doors, and Jakub or even the Healy brothers might discover them. Kurt reluctantly breaks away and looks around.
With a twinkle in his eye, Blaine jokes, "If I had known that I would get this reaction from counting hams, I would've invited you to the cool room on your first day."
"You… me… no clothes… my boarding house…now," Kurt demands, pushing his finger into Blaine's chest at every phrase.
Kurt swings his hips as he sashays towards the cool room exit. Blaine pulls on his arm to grab his attention. When Kurt turns around, Blaine gazes into his eyes. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
Kurt's eyes shift upwards, as if thinking, and he nods his head. "Yes, pretty much."
Author's notes
The song Blaine sings in the kitchen is When My Baby Smiles at Me, performed by Ted Lewis and his jazz band (1920).
This story contains Shannon Beiste prior to his transition. The main reason I've decided to use Beiste as a female character is because the concept of transgendering wasn't around until the 1950s. Cross dressing, yes, but it definitely was not socially acceptable. I've thought long and hard about whether to include Beiste, and ultimately decided that Shannon is the perfect character for the role. If you have any concerns or comments, please send me a PM on this site or Tumblr. No anons please - I would prefer private conversations.
Trivia: There really was a Healy's Tavern in the Gramercy Park area in 1920. It's now called Pete's Tavern, and it claims to be New York City's oldest continuously operating bar and restaurant. The writer O. Henry lived nearby and included the tavern in one of his short stories. Legend has it that he wrote his well-known story The Gift of the Magi in Healy's second booth from the front.
Whether you've read this chapter ten minutes after I posted it or ten plus years later, I read all reviews, and I always reply. If you follow the fic or mark it as a favorite, it will also bring a huge smile to my face.
I'm HKVoyage on Tumblr.
Next up: I think you can guess; the story's rating kicks in.