A/N: So, here's yet another idea I had whirling around in my brain since December 2014!. It takes place in the 1950's. Kurt is a 16-year old stable boy, working for the Anderson's $1.2 million property. Blaine and Santana are, indeed, siblings in this, because I've always loved the idea of them being related. If not for Glee canon, I think they could be. I hope you enjoy this. Right now, I'm planning on this being a one-shot. (Unless, knowing me sometimes, I come up with more ideas for this specific fic itself.) Read on! And please feel free to follow, favorite, alert, or review. :)
Stable Boy
Blaine Anderson stepped out early Saturday morning, feeling the chilly cold air hit his face. He smiled, breathing in the air of fresh, cut grass, the distant smell of horses, and his nearby pasture of his father's $1.2 million weathly property, setting on a 10-acre homestead. Cows could be seen in the distance, grazing around, as they enjoyed eating green grass, or barrels of hay. Over and off to the left, a horse stable was seen, standing since Robert Anderson's father passed down this enitre property to said father. The Anderson's loved their homestead, taking proper care of it daily, to keep up the sometimes tedious, but profitable work loads. Robert and Maria Anderson adored their two horses. Betsy, a Palomino, was gentle and sweet and mostly loved by everyone. She was relatively calm.
Lancelot was a different story. Still training in process, the brown horse could be aggressive, but usually, and only, if frightened. Blaine worked everyday on working with the horse, and he loved doing it. It was not a chore, but perhaps, a pastime or a leisure activity of his.
The Anderson's have owned this property, inheirited from Blaine's grandfather, for ten years. After George Anderson passed away from heart failure, he left a pretty self-explanitory will. From this property to a couple million dollars, you could definitely say the Anderson's had it made. They were happy, for the most part. Robert left at the crack of dawn, every morning, to go to work. He works Monday's through Friday's, bringing home the money. Maria Anderson was the housewife, taking care of both Santana and Blaine since they were born, of course. Both are now in high school; both studying hard and making good grades.
Blaine was talkative, but anyone WOULD be, if you gave them an interesting subject they loved to talk about for hours on end.Blaine interests were hanging with his best friend, Sam Evans, (when he wasn't studying tediously on weekends for final tests, usually on Mondays for most of his subjects), reading, and he loved working on cars. He hoped one day he could make money in the mechanical occupation. He'd be good at it; for most summer days he could be found out front working on an old beat up 1952 Chevy Mustang, a pale blue in color. He was so dapper, a gentleman and very kind. Sometimes, he could be a little too straight-forward. He loved to read, and often talked to Sam about his current books he was engulfed in nightly, quietly reading under his large dark blue duvet when everyone else was fast asleep.
Santana was very sarcastic...she was known for her crude humor, but when out in public, often put her practised good manners to use. People adored Santana. Her parents don't know she's gay, sneaking away sometime during the weekend, (usually Saturday mornings, arriving back at the homestead at noonish) to go see Brittany Pierce down by the lake. Maria has talked with her daughter about this, having a completely open mind to this discussion, and has come to accept her choices. Maria had no problem with Santana, as long as she was happy. And she did seem happy, for the most part. Brittany went to her school, too. Maria keeps quite about the subject, ecspecially in front of Robert. Robert was known to be very stern and demanding. He believed in proper discipline and well-behaved manners.
Blaine hasn't told anyone of his...feelings about other boys, except his trustworthy sister. She could keep his secret safe, because she knows and feels exactly the same way. Blaine was only 18, but he would question why he felt butterflies around boys, instead of girls. He'd remember feeling this way for quite some time, but never really paid attention to it.
Chanelle came up to Blaine's leg, purring immediately, probably wanting food or to be held. He grinned and picked up the gentle and sweet tabby cat, and stroked her fur as he looked beyond the horizon. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Burt Hummel's car was most certainly not in their driveway that early morning. Burt Hummel came to help Robert; to work in the barn, tending both horses, and to feed the cows. It was sort of a payback when Robert's car was having problems one night, while it was pouring rain. He happened to stop right in front of Burt Hummel Tires & Lube, needing assistance right away. Burt only worked in his garage a couple days a week, if he wasn't helping with Kurt's home-schooling. After Elizabeth died of cancer when Kurt was 8, Burt decided to home-school his son, and just do the best he can, with just the two of them now.
So, about an hour later, with new brake fluid and new tires, Robert was set off home, carefully pocketing Burt Hummel's card in his expensive brown vests' pocket. The next day, he called Burt and offered him to help for extra cash. They needed it.
Kurt's passions were music and dance; he loved drawing different fashion ideas in his spare time, when he wasn't working on school work. He, too, made good grades, and was very intelligent. He hasn't sung since his mother died only because it brought on fresh tears. Elizabeth used to sing to Kurt before bedtime every night, her usual tune, "When You Wish Upon A Star", leaving a content and snoring boy fast asleep.
Blaine's gaze wandered to the stables, then headed back inside, gently cradling Chanelle. "Papa?" Blaine called out, putting down the whimpering and hungry cat. He made her food bowl, and then proceeded to look for his father.
"In here, son."
Blaine walked into the kitchen to find his father neatly preparing his tie, with a smile. "Morning papa."
"Good morning, son." He replied, as he got ready for work.
"Burt's car is not here?" Blaine question, sitting down at their table.
"Oh, Blaine, he has some health issues right now. His doctor ordered for him to stay on bed rest for two weeks, for he is not feeling well."
"W-Who must help the horses while I'm away at school?"
"His son, Kurt is temorarily helping us. I must go, I'm running a little late. They called me in today. Be proper for your mother today, please." He said, giving Blaine a kiss on his forehead.
Blaine nodded as his father grabbed his briefcase, wallet, and keys, and headed out. Chanelle quietly mewed after she ate her food, and settled down for her morning nap.
Blaine shrugged, and got up with a smile on his face.
Santana came thumping loudly down the stairs. "Good morning, brother." She said cheerfully, pecking his cheek.
Blaine looked at her warily. "And to you, sister. What's got you so happy on this fine morning?"
"I must go see Brittany today, down by the lake." She whispered, looking around, for fear their father would overhear. "I miss her, Blaine."
"Father isn't here. He had to go to work today. Go. Go see her. And have fun, San." Blaine said with a wave of his hand.
She cocked her head to the side. "What shall you do today?"
Blaine shrugged, unsure for a moment. "I shall call Sam? Maybe see what he is dong?"
Santana nodded, fixing her pastel-colored dress, complete with a pink ribbon around the waistline. "Yes, that would be good. Is he not seeing Mercedes today?"
Blaine's shoulders visibly deflated upon hearing this. He forgot Sam had gotten a girlfriend-Mercedes-and they quite often hung out together most days after school. Sometimes ignorant people would cast disgusting looks their way when they held hands, knowing that African Americans could not be with Caucasians, for this wasn't illegal at all, but surely not looked upon. Sam didn't give two shits. He's come to Blaine, countless times, expressing his love and adoration for Mercedes Jones. He was pretty much convinced he was in love. Blaine was happy for him.
But, quite often, Blaine would sigh, unhappy, knowing he could have that same love himself, but he has no one.
Yet.
"Yes, yes he might see her today. I might go tend to the horses or even take Lancelot for a ride." Blaine said, his face cheering up a little.
Santana pursed her lips. "Blaine Devon, you better be careful. Have you not learned Lancelot is not trained well just yet?" She reprimanded him with a wave of her finger, tsking.
Blaine rolled his eyes. "I'll be ok, sister." A pause."Go. She's waiting for you. I'll cover for you until noon." He said softly, grabbing her hands in his own.
She smiled. "Thank you, brother. I shall be back in time for lunch." She pecked him again on his olive-skinned cheek, and squealed as she skipped away with excitement.
Blaine smiled, but lowered his eyes to the floor. "Someday, Blaine, someday. Just you wait. Patience."
He had to keep telling himself this.
xxxK&Bxxx
Kurt Hummel wiped his sweaty brow for the umpteenth time that day, and it wasn't even 10 am. He frowned as he continued his work, in place for his father. Kurt paused, thinking about his father's health. He couldn't lose his other parent.
Not again.
Kurt gently placed the saddle on the Anderson's palamino horse, smiling sweetly at the calm and beautiful horse. "There, there. You're beautiful, you know that?" Kurt cooed as he ran his pale hand along the horses' smooth backside. Besty quietly neighed as the stable boy kept calming her down more and more.
He was, indeed, very grateful to have this privilege to work for Robert Anderson, even if it was for two weeks. It kept his mind off of school work, the rude and offensive neighbors, calling him derogitory names (every so often with a push or shove, but never any real bruising...yet, Kurt tried not to think about that), and just the constant worrying over his father's health.
Not to mention, he just came out recently, a couple of weeks ago, to his own father, but of course, Burt Hummel always knew. Burt knew since Kurt was three, because all he wanted for his birthday was a sensible pair of heels. So, Kurt took advantage went he wasn't home. He often felt he was going stir crazy, between the home-schooling and caring for his sick father, so the time away from his home was savored.
He also felt alone. Most of the time. Of course, he adored his father, but he really had no one to talk to. Most nights, he was found in his room sniffing a whif of mother's perfume as he did his nightly mosturizer routine, and tried not to cry. He made it. It was hard. But, he had to.
For his father.
xxxK&Bxxx
Blaine whistled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the barn to check on the horses. He inhaled the scent of the early morning dew and smiled. Nearing the barn, he stopped when he heard Besty neighing quietly. His thick and dark eyebrows scrunched in confusion upon hearing this. As he listened to the rather calm horse right outside the barn door, his curious hazel eyes widened as his gaze settled upon a taller boy, gently swaying his slender waist, almost seeming like he was dancing. Blaine's eyes raked up and down this boy's lithe and, apparently gorgeous body, and he found himself licking his lips subconsciously. He shook his head, and prepared to clear his throat. He was pretty sure the boy didn't know of Blaine's, definitely not creeping whereabouts.
Blaine cleared his throat, and the boy startled, Besty backing away a little. Kurt turned around, and his cyan eyes landed on Blaine.
"M-Mr. Anderson, sorry...I-I was just..." Kurt stuttered, blushing a deep red as his eyes narrowed to the ground in shame.
Blaine chuckled, and Kurt looked up. "I am most definitely not Mr. Anderson, for he is my father. I'm Blaine." Blaine came closer, and stuck his hand out for Kurt to shake.
Kurt swallowed, and hesitated, but shook the handsome boy's warm hand, nonetheless. His eyes trailed up to Blaine's gaze, and he said softly, "K-Kurt. H-Hummel." He cleared his throat. "K-Kurt Hummel. I am here for-"
Blaine interrupted. "You're the replacement for those two weeks for your father, yes?" He tried not to frown as Kurt dropped his hand, and immediately Blaine missed the warmth and comfort. Please tell me you're the new boy helping...Blaine thought.
Kurt replied, "Y-Yes, sir..."
So proper. He took a moment to really take in Kurt's clothes. Kurt wore a pair of overalls with a flannel shirt underneath, and Kurt's chestnut hair was perfectly coiffed, and Blaine found himself wishing he could run his fingers through the soft-looking locks. Blaine smiled gently. "No sir, here, Kurt. Just call me Blaine, please."
"Blaine..." Kurt whispered softly.
Blaine's stomach clenched (in a good way) and his heart sped up as Kurt said his own name as if he were born to say it. He cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I'll let you get back to it. Please, let me know if you need anything, Kurt."
A look of confusion flashed across the pale boy's face for a moment before answering. "O-Ok...Thank you..."
"I am not my father. Believe me. I will help you if you need it." Blaine tried to explain. "I know he can be...mmmm what's the word..." Blaine paused, tapping his chin with his finger.
"Harsh?" Kurt said bluntly. A hand flew to his mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry!" He muttered from behind his slightly shaking hand.
"Kurt, it's ok. I am not fond of my father. Most days, actually." Blaine muttered, running his hands along his black suspenders, suddenly feeling angry. He'd rather not talk about Robert Anderson, and his...demands. Expectations. Beliefs. Mannerisms.
"I-Is...is everything ok?" Kurt asked in genuine concern, pursing his lips, and his hand dropped back to his side.
"It's fine. I'll leave you be." Blaine said with a wave of his hand, shaking his head and snapping out of his thoughts.
Kurt frowned. "O-Of course. I shall start to barrel the hay, then."
Blaine merely nodded. He hesitated, and left Kurt to do his chores, his heart feeling heavy as he left the barn. He sighed and checked his watch, noting the time at just a little after ten am. His mind drifted to Santana. She has about an hour and a half left. I hope she's ok...Blaine thought, heading back towards his house. I think I'll engage in a good book or call Sam. See what he's up to today...Blaine thought happily, immediately perking up. He skipped his way to his front door, totally unaware of a certain blue eyed boy smiling timidly from behind the barn door.
A/N: Continue or? Please review? :)
-Marianne xoxoxo
