Title: Unintended
Summary: Kurt Hummel is starting over. Out of high school and out of Lima, he's entering the biggest adventure of his life in NYC alongside his two best friends, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez. However, while he can handle his new NYADA classes and the new atmosphere of the Big Apple, there's one aspect of the city life he can't quite handle yet - boys. When an unexpected one night stand leaves Kurt heartbroken, a new love begins to pick up the pieces, until Kurt realizes that both of his conquests are unfortunately connected.
Authors Note:
Hi friends! Kelly and Macy here. We may or may not be writing a thing who's proud? Consider this fic our outlet in which we express our too often masked kurtbastian emotions. This is, however, our first go at this, so please be patient and bear with us as we put this lovely story together. Also, if anyone's wondering, the title of this story comes from the song "Unintended" by Muse.
This first chapter mainly sets the scene with what Kurt, Rachel, and Santana are doing, how Kurt feels about himself, etc. Sebastian will appear in the second chapter, so don't flake on us yet!
Another note of caution: If you're coming here to see Blaine hate, you've come to the wrong fic. Blaine plays a very positive and essential character in this story.
Now that you've pretended to read this, we hope you enjoy it! xo
-Kelly & Macy
CHAPTER ONE
"Ha! That was my last box!" Kurt bragged as he pulled the last of his scarves out of the box labeled 'Kurt's Clothes Do NOT Touch'.
"No fucking way, Hummel," Santana replied from her room across the hall. "Berry and I are barely halfway through!"
"Would you two just shut the hell up and help me with the kitchen?" Kurt shouted a little too loudly as he exasperatedly rolled his eyes at his two new roommates, who he still couldn't believe he was living with at this point.
Kurt took a deep breath, successfully tuning out his two roommates bickering a room away, and focused his eyes on his new breathtaking view. It was like they could see every part of the city, that at least covered Union Square and maybe bits and pieces of Fashion District on 7th avenue if you really squinted your eyes hard enough. It was safe to say that this front window would be his favorite part of his sparkly, new, New York City apartment.
Okay, it wasn't sparkly, but to Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel, and Santana Lopez, it would be a new beginning; a chance to finally see the world outside of the conservative goggles of suburban Lima, Ohio. They finally had made it big, and maybe the three best friends would appreciate their soon-to-be New York City lifestyle if Rachel would just stop crying.
"I still can't believe we're living and walking on the same streets that Ms. Barbra Streisand walked on when she was our age!" Rachel screeched to Kurt, who responded to her by shaking her with the similar enthusiasm. "Imagine how optimistic she must have been, I'm sure she wants us to do the same -"
"Ahem!" Santana shouted at them from across the room. She was just trying to hang up a poster of Paula Abdul in the dining room. Kurt seemed to dig his mind out of Rachel's most coveted fantasies, and threw the Latina the tape with an affectionate eye roll.
"Just give yourself a few weeks here, Santana, and you'll be just as excited as we are," Kurt said encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll be the hottest bitch on the top of any NYU Pyramid, Sandbags," the blue-eyed boy said as he began to direct his attention to one of the overflowing kitchen boxes.
And with a unified laugh as the McKinley grads reminisced over the memory, the boxes seemed to unpack themselves. Their apartment may not be too spacious, but it was certainly the ideal location. Only a few blocks from Union Square and minutes from both the NYU and NYADA campuses. The decision to be brave and move straight into an apartment rather than have a "freshman dorm experience" seemed to be going well so far at least.
The clock read 10:48 a.m, and the sweat was evident on Kurt's face as he tried to finish the last touches on the living room wall. He once thought painting would be a fun, activity, or as Rachel had once put it, "a quick stimulation for our artistic minds prior to delving into our future stardom", but instead it just really fucking sucked.
Kurt glanced over at Rachel, who was painting the wall outlining the one bathroom that the three of them would now share in their new glamorous shoebox. She was not hanging gold stars. He noticed Santana eyeing her the same way he was.
Here we go, he thought to himself.
"Oh hell no," Santana said prominently, dashing over to Rachel's side, near-snatching the oversized gold star decorations out of her hands.
"What is your problem!?" Rachel shouted, dramatically stamping her foot.
"My problem," Santana emphasized as she got closer to the girl's face, "is that you can't hang these flamingly gay stars in our already flamingly gay apartment! Who are we? Will and Grace with another random fucking Mexican?!"
Kurt couldn't stop himself from muffling his laughter in his corner. She was right, after all.
Rachel feigned being hurt for a minute, before a devilishly sweet look formed in her brown eyes.
"You're right, Santana, the color of this wall unfortunately clashes with my gold stars," Rachel said teasingly, swiping her paintbrush into the can below. "But …" she trailed off slowly, raising up the brush, which was now covered in paint, to eye-level between herself and Santana. "It would look fabulous with the outfit you're wearing."
"I swear on all of your ugly as fuck sweaters, Berry. If you bring that paint brush any closer to me, there will be hell to pay," Santana said in a very serious tone, giving Rachel a look that could definitely slaughter her in half.
"Oops," Rachel exhaled dramatically swinging her hand forward and splattering the face, chest, and upper torso of her roommate in bright, sticky paint.
"Holy. Shit." Kurt whispered to himself as he witnessed what his roommates were doing in their new bathroom.
"Berry. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You." Santana aggressively swiped the paint brush from the bathroom counter, covered it in paint, and painted a long streak straight down Rachel's face and chest.
Kurt ran into the bathroom unable to hold back and grabbed the paint roller out of the shower and covered it in paint, while being splattered by all the paint now being thrown back and forth between his roommates. He rolled the roller up Santana's back which in return earned him a long swipe of paint up his side from Santana and a light smack on his ass from Rachel. As if the ass smacking was the motion of warfare, the three went at it with as many brushes and rollers as their hands would allow. No longer holding back at all, the colors were being flung every which way, splattering the walls of the new and once clean small bathroom, drenching the three roommates.
"I hate you both so much for this!" Kurt screamed through his laughs.
"Berry started it!" Santana yelled back adding another coat of paint to his back.
Just as the giggles started to die down, there was a loud, obnoxious knock at the door. Both Kurt and Santana looked at Rachel, the culprit of the paint fight, motioning for her to answer the door.
Completely and embarrassingly covered in paint, Rachel opened the door to find a preppy girl with thick-rimmed glasses, standing at their doorstep carrying a large notepad, and a handful of bright, colorful flyers. The smile on her face quickly evaporated as she took in what she was walking into. God, it must have looked so kinky.
"I'm sorry, was I interrupting something..?" The confused girl said, not even giving the brunette or her roommates any time to answer. "Anyway, Welcome to NYADA! I'm Tess, and we on the welcoming committee here recognize that the off-campus students need to be aware of what's going on, so I took upon the liberty of reminding you about the Welcome Orientation Fair that starts in an hour -"
"FUCK! Thank you, bye!" Rachel shouted as she slammed the door in the girl's face. "We have to make it to that fair, Kurt. Doesn't NYU have one too, Santana?" Rachel asked the Latina, currently pretending to lick the paint off of Kurt's stomach.
The three of them stood there in an awkward silence for a moment.
"I call the shower first!" Kurt said, running to the bathroom throwing his shirt off in the process.
This was going to be a good year.
For as big of a deal the NYADA admissions board made about being a "highly selective school", there sure seemed to be a lot of students flocking around the campus, more so than either Rachel or Kurt expected.
"Just because they look like us, and act like us, doesn't mean they're better than us," Rachel whispered in Kurt's ear as she squeezed his hand, the two of them smiling at the memory.
Kurt closed his eyes for a minute, and just for a brief flash of time, he saw his future. He saw his name and his profile framed in lights, hanging high in Times Square for all to see, the star of the most up-and-coming Broadway show around. He saw his dressing room backstage, the Tony awards that would line his shelves -
"Kurt? Earth to Kurt?" Rachel said annoyingly as she shook him out of his daydreams. When he opened his eyes again, despite the disappointment, he was still just as mesmerized. Everything was so different.
The Union Building was filled with students, registering and collecting their ID's, and then proceeded outward to the front lawn, where hundreds of booths and stands were just begging to be checked out. A huge and pleasantly distracting "WELCOME TO NYADA" sign, built and practically designed the same as the Broadway signs Kurt had always grown to love so dearly, hung on the front of the building, as if giving the students a glimpse into their futures.
All Kurt had to do was survive the next four years, and with his two best friends (and now roommates) alongside him, what could possibly go wrong?
After collecting their ID's and comparing which one of theirs would make a better headshot, Rachel and Kurt, hand and hand, made their way through the lines. Every musical theatre club possible was present from "The Roxy Hart Fan Club", to "Future Mormons of America", but there was only one table Kurt was interested in nearly sprinting toward.
"Rachel!" he hissed as he tried to gain her attention away from a Barbra table. "One word: Phantom."
And with that, Rachel and Kurt were squealing and skipping over to the large section of tables all topped with Phantom of the Opera posters, costumes, and props. Rachel practically shoved everyone else out of the way with one quick tug, and she and Kurt were face to face with the open-call sign up sheet.
"NYADA's fall production would be Phantom, just for us! We are the best Christine and Phantom ever we are going to blow the house down -"
"Excuse me, did you really think you could butt in front of us like that?" a handsome stranger cut Rachel off, before nearly stepping backward in order to take in slender, gorgeous, and round-in-all-the-right-places Kurt Hummel. "I apologize, beautiful, I would let you place that thing anywhere as long as it's in front of me," the boy said, not so subtly giving Kurt the once-over, before winking and strolling away.
Rachel's mouth was agape at this point before she started laughing. "Oh my God, Kurt… why didn't you talk to him!?", she shook the beautiful boy, who was too busy trying to hastily sign his name on the sheet with a look of undisputed panic and humiliation flooding his blue eyes. Rachel quickly signed her name before chasing after Kurt, who was already running away.
"Maybe because I only converse with people with manners." Kurt said with a tint of anger in his voice. That was when Rachel stopped him and turned him around to face her.
Rachel Berry knew her best friend better than that.
"Kurt, you need to accept that we're out of Lima! All of the hate and the bullying... that's all behind you now," Rachel cooed, rubbing the boy's back. "You're now living in one of the most liberal cities in the world. Boys will be a possibility for you now. Enjoy it!"
Kurt rolled his eyes. This was going to take some getting used to.
Just as Kurt and Rachel were finishing setting the table for the first dinner in their new apartment, Santana, now dressed in her newly appointed NYU cheerleading uniform, burst through the front door and interrupted the rest of the world without a care.
"Listen up, Wonder Twins, because boy, do I have some news for you two," Santana shouted as she entered the apartment, loudly plopping down at the table where Kurt and Rachel were then peacefully eating dinner.
"NYU is the best thing to ever happen to this planet. The fucking campus is amazing and do you know how many clubs there are? A shit ton," she said excitedly. "Not to mention all the hotties walking around. I can maybe even get Hummel laid."
"Yeah I don't think I'm going to need your help with that because apparently NYADA is just crawling with guys who want to tap this." Kurt scoffed taking a bite of the pasta he made for dinner.
"Well duh, it's NYADA, it's full of twinks, Hummel," Santana replied rolling her eyes, "Well, speaking of getting laid guess what else I found out about." She said pulling up a chair next to Kurt and nudging his shoulder suggestively.
"I don't really care, San," he responded not bothering to look up from his dinner.
"Oh, I think you will-"
"Would you just leave him alone?" Rachel intruded, "Kurt clearly doesn't want to talk about this so just shut up and eat your dinner."
Santana sighed pulling the chair back to her spot at the table and sitting down.
"It's okay, Rach." Kurt looked up from his food and over to Santana, "just go ahead."
Santana's face lit up as she began. "Okay, so about ten minutes from here there is supposedly this kick-ass gay bar," she said animatedly as she watches Kurt's eyes grow bigger than a cartoon. "I guess all the hottest gay guys from NYU go there so I was just think that you should go sometime, Kurtie!" She finished with a wide grin on her face, eyes staring at Kurt as if she were waiting for praise and a thank you for this useless information.
"No," He simply replied looking back at Santana.
"What do you mean 'no'? You can't not go. You have to at least give it a chance-"
"No means no, Santana," Kurt began. "I didn't come to New York to go out and party every night. I have no interest in going to this bar." He defended.
"Come on Hummel, you have to let loose some time. If you keep being such a stuck-up bitch about it, you are never gonna lose your V card," Santana urged while beginning to eat her dinner.
Kurt's stomach clenched at that. Did Santana know him at all? If Kurt Hummel was one of those types of guys, he would have been throwing himself around a long time ago. No, he was past Lima and past bullies and god damnit all he cared about was getting this stupid part in Phantom and -
"HOW DARE YOU." He screamed in rage, cutting of his thoughts and stormed angrily off to his room.
Rachel gave Santana a knowing look as she rolled her eyes, and the two continued to eat in silence.
The first week of classes and orientation flew by smoothly, with Kurt not really delving too deep into anything just yet. Sure, he paid attention in class, and he loved exploring the city and even rushing Chicago with Rachel that one time, but there was only one real thing he truly cared about so far, despite San's popular belief.
Rachel, of course, was going to be a shoo-in for Christine during the auditions. However, although he knew his range could outdo a solid 95% of any of the males flocking the gorgeous, star-studded campus, he knew getting his dream role would be a long shot.
He just had to Phantom his ass off.
"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world,
Leave all your thoughts of the world you knew before,
Let your soul take you where you long to be,
Only then you can belong to me..
You alone can make my song take flight -
help me make the music of the night"
Kurt's beautiful countertenor echoed off the walls of his bedroom. Thank God Rachel and Santana had agreed to share one of the two bedrooms so the boy had his own er, me time.
This was not one of those times. He was practicing, for crying out loud.
A sharp knock interrupted his self-choreographed interpretation of the song. Kurt sighed as he removed his mask and cape, throwing it on his bed to answer the now rapping door.
"What do you want, Santana? I'm trying to practice," Kurt said monotonously as he stuck his head out through the door.
"Lady Hummel, you know how sexy I think you are. And how much I adore your voice. But it's been the same fucking song for like four hours straight and I've been trying to masturbate now for over an hour but your voice is blocking my sexy place," Santana said bluntly, not so subtlety pouting down toward her lady parts in frustration.
Kurt started cracking up. God, he had warmed up so much to Santana over the years.
"San, how are you even doing that right now? Isn't Rachel home?" Kurt asked confusedly, now stepping outside of the room looking for the girl.
Just as Santana was about to open her mouth, as if on cue, Rachel Berry, who originally left the house head-to-toe perfect as usual in her stockings, sweater dress, and her hair straightened to a tee entered the living room.
To say she looks a little disheveled would be an understatement, as both Kurt and Santana's eyes went wide as they took the petite brunette in now, with her smeared make up, naturally curled hair, and was that a rip in her stocking?
"Holy shit, Berry!!" Santana greeted her roommate, throwing her into tight hug. "Did you fucking get laid without me!?"
"What?" Kurt said, feeling the absence spreading to his crotch. God, he needed some more me time.
Rachel started doing that girly giggle of hers, and Kurt would have tried to tune her out entirely, but he couldn't help but listen to her erotic story.
"His name is Jared and he's in my Dance 101 class and he asked me to stay back with him after class to help him perfect the tango we're learning," Rachel began, her voice elevating in pitch as the story reached its peak. "..but as soon as everyone left he just pressed me right up against the mirrors and practically dry humped me!" Rachel screamed excitedly, now lifting the collar of her dress to reveal several bruise-shaped hickeys lining her neck.
Kurt's face went white as he almost felt his hand twitch toward his dick.
"Rachel… I'm surprised. You're usually not like this," Kurt said profoundly, watching the two girls glare at him as if he just killed the best vibe ever. "What about not wanting boys to get-"
"Kurt," Rachel started as if she were speaking to a 5-year-old. "This didn't get in the way of my career, it was just a little play time" Rachel said, new sexy confidence abound as she strut past Kurt on the way toward her bedroom.
"Berry, let's fuck right now," Santana said as she followed her into the room, Rachel hysterically laughing along the way.
Kurt felt like he was punched in the stomach. No, he told himself. You don't need them. You don't need boys and their lovely hands and their mouths and their -
A trip to the bathroom was suddenly necessary.
It was just past five o'clock on a sunny, Friday afternoon, and Kurt had been practicing in one of NYADA's many glamorous ballroom-esque style auditoriums for over three hours now, and god damnit he deserved a little frozen yogurt. He pulled off his phantom mask and folded his cape to tuck them both inside his bag before heading out to the hallway where he found Rachel and Santana waiting for him.
"OH, LADY HUMMEL," Santana obnoxiously shouted, filling the auditorium with her recognizable echo. "You're one fucking late of a date!"
Kurt could have easily just ran to them a little faster, but if she was going to be an asshole, as was Rachel giggling next to her, he could be one too.
With stumbling and laughter, the three exited the room and ventured out into the hallway, near deep in a conversation about the underwear Santana was planning to wear this weekend when they heard something muffled coming from the opposite end of the hallway.
"Of course it's Hummel," one of the men said catching the attention of the three friends, "I could hear his shrieking from all the way out here."
"If you think it's shrieking now just imagine what he sounds like in the bedroom," Another man added shooting Kurt and his friends a glare from across the hallway.
"No way, that prude isn't getting any in the bedroom!" The first man replied tearing his gaze away from Kurt. The group of sassy choir boys gave Kurt the last once-over and then proceeded to exit the end of the hallway.
"Excuse me?" Santana shouted after the departing fairy boys. "Did you fuckers seriously just talk to my boy Kurt like that? NO ME GUSTA. Do you really want to mess with someone who proudly was raised in Lima Heights Adjacent-"
Santana began to follow the boys down the hallway continuing in her degrading rant, when something fiery sparked inside of Kurt.
Maybe Rachel and Santana were right.
Maybe he was being a bit too uptight and rigid.
Maybe he hasn't truly embraced the liberality of New York yet, but there was a sure-fire way he could.
Maybe he was a bit lonely and after all the Phantom even had a companion and -
"Rachel," Kurt says practically in a whisper, grabbing her shoulders. "I need to fucking go to that gay bar."
