"Rise and shine!" screeched Abella, throwing the curtains open to let in the bright summer sunshine. It was already eight and she knew it would take a fair few minutes of pestering before she could get her target to rise from his bed. She chuckled when she heard a loud groaning from beneath the covers and proceeded to pull them back to reveal the boy nestled inside. "You know what day it is today, Kurt. You cannot keep your father waiting."
Indeed, Kurt knew what today was. It was the day their guests would be arriving from the city. It was all his mother and sister had been able to talk about all month. It would have taken a great blow to the head for him to forget that. He threw his arm over his eyes in protest and tried to ignore the maid who was now bustling about his room preparing his bath. "You have to be ready by nine-thirty, so I suggest you get moving," she said, not stopping for breath while lugging the jugs of water into the tub. She eyed him disapprovingly. "Now."
If it were any other maid speaking to him that way, he would have made a complaint immediately, but Abella was special. He had known her his entire life, the woman had practically raised him. She was abrasive and incredibly unprofessional at times, but it just wouldn't be right any other way. He loved her dearly and she loved him too, and she was not about to let him embarrass himself by showing up late. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and blearily made his way over to the basin. He stripped off and climbed into the water, feeling the muscles in his body quiver upon coming into contact with the heat. He lay his head back on the lip of the tub and closed his eyes again, almost slipping back into sleep when he was rudely interrupted by Abella again.
"Wash. Now," she said sternly. He lifted up his arms and she proceeded to scrub his underarms and work the soap onto his chest. She placed both hands on his head, pulling him forward so she could get to his back. The sleepy boy barely registered what she was doing. He was content to just let her carry on and remain in his sleep like state for a little longer. He was starting to doze off again when she commanded him to stand and instructed him to clean his bottom and legs himself. He did so half-heartedly and then washed the remaining suds off before sitting down again. Abella grabbed the jug from the dresser nearby and began filling it with water to wash his hair. This was his favourite part. The feel of the older woman's hands working the soap through his hair was wonderful and a smile formed on his face as he relaxed into the sensation.
"Out," he heard her say all too soon. He stood up and was handed a towel which he wrapped around himself like a cocoon. "Your clothes are hung up ready. You have," she checked the clock on the fireplace, "one hour to be dressed, fed and ready to greet your guests. Tick-tock." She raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a serious look. "It's just one day, Kurt. And then you can go back to moping around on that piano all day."
She rubbed her arms over his towel clad shoulders and then she was out of the door faster than he could blink. Left feeling like he had just been caught in a whirlwind, a usual effect of spending any sort of time with Abella, he moved over to the wardrobe where his clothes were hanging up. His mother had chosen his best and most expensive suit to impress their cosmopolitan guests. It wasn't his favourite, that was reserved for his navy-blue suit with the black accents he had fixed on himself. He would have felt much more comfortable wearing that than this ludicrous ensemble. He didn't feel like himself in it, he felt like he was trying to be somebody he was not, somebody 'better', richer, with more high society friends than sense. Somebody like the guests they were expecting today.
Kurt was not excited. Not at all. Lord and Lady Anderson were coming to stay with them, all the way from God knows where and who knows what, bringing along their carriage, and their titles and their rich silk dresses to flaunt in their family's face. And also bringing their eldest son, Blaine Anderson, to marry off to his younger sister, Rachel. That was the biggest thorn in his side. His foolish, lovestruck sister had been going on and on about Blaine non-stop since the previous month when they had made their intent to stay with them. She had never even seen the man in person, but she was oh so sure of his handsome eyes and his dashing, debonair smile. When he had tried to point out this fact, she had gushed that he was only jealous because mother and father had secured her a marriage before him. And to the son of a Lord no less.
As he put the final touches to his outfit and finished up styling his hair, Kurt looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. There was no way he was going to enjoy whatever this day brought. He was just going to have to suck it up and watch his sister fall over herself trying to impress the great Blaine Anderson. Wait… that actually could be something enjoyable to see. He smirked. Rachel really had no clue how obnoxious she could be. She couldn't wait to throw herself at this Blaine and soak up all of the wealth and attention a life as his wife had to offer. That was what made Kurt furious. His father had worked extremely hard to give them the life they had. He would never want to throw all of that away to jump into the arms of some rich debutante. He was proud of where he came from and what he had and watching his sister fawn over her new life to come had been making him slowly more furious for weeks.
He left his room and headed for the staircase up the other end of the hallway, the one that led straight down into the entry hall to the staff quarters. He couldn't quite face his family yet and the staircase opposite his bedroom door would have led him right down into the dining room. Several members of the staff greeted him with a simple "Good morning, Mister Kurt." He smiled at them and wandered through to the kitchen in the hopes of finding one of the scullery maids, Mercedes. She was one of his closest allies in the house and he knew she would be feeling just as apprehensive about today as he was. He found her elbows deep in dish water and snuck up behind her to jab her in the sides. "Ahhhh!" she screamed before turning around and flinging water in his face.
"Mercedes! I am ready and presentable for our guests today! You're going to flatten my hair!" he laughed, as she rolled her eyes fondly.
"Well then, never do that again and we won't have a problem," she teased back. "Speaking of, when do they get here?"
"Nine-thirty." He looked at his pocket watch and winced, thirty-five minutes. "And we're all so very excited about it!" he announced with a flourish.
Mercedes laughed and put her arm, now towel dried, around the taller boy's waist. "You'll be fine. Just don't put your elbows on the table or forget to shine your shoes, and you'll all get along like old friends."
Kurt pretended to look insulted that she would insinuate he would ever forget to shine his shoes. He pointed his left foot out to prove it, and she gave him an appraising sweep of eyes over his whole outfit. "My mother picked it. We have to impress them in the only way they'll understand. Expensive clothes and money." Mercedes knew of Kurt's tendency to fix up his own clothes, some of his favourite pieces being things he had sewn together himself. He hated when he was forced into something expensive, yet tasteless. Money didn't always buy the best, he always said.
He shrugged his shoulders and tried to act like he was okay, but she knew better. "Listen, just stand tall. Say hello. Give a bow. Eat lunch and you can come and tell me all about it, okay. We'll laugh at their top hats, and over the top pompous accents. And it will all be fine."
"She's fifteen," he whispered. "She's fifteen. And he's twenty-five. She's so naïve and headstrong. I just don't want her to get hurt." Kurt looked down at his feet and Mercedes sighed, not knowing what to say to comfort him in this situation. They had never faced anything like this before. Sure, Miss Rachel Hummel was a terror to get along with at times and she drove the staff of the house up the wall with her constant antics. But she was also just a girl. A teenage girl. And she had a tendency to throw herself into things she was not ready for. Kurt being seventeen was already looked upon as a man. He was next in line to the Hummel household once his father, Burt, was gone and he was respected as such. But Miss Hummel was still seen by many as a child. Many of the staff members had widened their eyes comically upon being told a husband had been found for the impertinent young girl. But even through all of that, she was still Mister Kurt's younger sister.
"You should get to breakfast," she said finally. Kurt smiled weakly and took his leave. As he left the servants quarters, he walked head first into his sister, bouncing down the corridor and singing at the top of her lungs. She barely even noticed that her older and much taller brother had been knocked aside by her flailing arms and continued through to the dining room. "Ahh, there's my darling Rachel," he heard his father say. "Are you excited about today, my love?" he asked, and he heard Rachel squeal in response and start on a great tirade about how perfect the young man coming to stay with them was. As he entered the dining room, she was gushing over the wonderful hazel colour of his eyes in the painting she had seen of him and hoping against hope that they were as dazzling in real life.
"I am sure they will be. Oh, he will be just breath-taking daddy!" she cried. "Just think! My very own Lord. I will be a Lady one day. Me!"
"He isn't a Lord yet," Kurt stated cynically, as he waited for his porridge to be spooned onto his plate. He eyed her dress, a garish pink number with bows attached to each of the sleeves and around her dainty waist. He wondered briefly how much more expensive than their house that awful thing probably was. For a moment, he actually pitied Blaine.
"Oh hush!" she said, batting her hand at him in disapproval. He ate his food slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible in the hopes that nine-thirty never came around. If she was already this insufferable now, it was only going to get worse once Blaine actually arrived. He needed all the strength he could get. Right then, his mother came charging into the room looking beautiful as ever. Her hair was pulled back and held in place with a butterfly pin which sparkled whenever she turned her head and it caught the sunlight. She walked over to his chair and kissed him on the head before marching up to her husband.
"Everyone is in position outside, we just need to get you three ready," she announced, addressing the whole table. Her face was red, and Kurt could tell she had been running around like a mad woman all morning to ensure everything was running smoothly. She turned to face her children and give them their instructions. "Kurt, you will be standing next to your father, and Rachel you will be standing with me. Don't forget your bows and curtseys and make sure to kiss Lord and Lady Anderson on the hand before making eye contact with them. Very important! As for Blaine, Rachel don't monopolise him. Allow him to make his introductions and settle in here before you pounce on him. We don't want to scare him off," she smiled and looked down at her husband who was smiling also.
Once breakfast was cleared, the family made their way outside to stand in their instructed positions by the main gate. It was nine-twenty-five and Kurt could feel his anxiety growing as he kept his eyes peeled on the road leading up to their house. Every time a bird flew by, he raised up onto his tiptoes thinking the sudden movement was a carriage approaching. There was nothing for a further few minutes and then in the distance he could hear the unmistakable sound of horses' hooves. Just peeking over the brow of the hill he could see a great white carriage, big enough to fit at least six people easily. His excitement actually started to grow as he saw a further five carriages following close behind, most likely containing their luggage and a few key members of their household staff. They had tried to reassure them that they had plenty of staff on hand at the house, but Lady Anderson had insisted they bring along their own help.
As the carriages came to a stop in front of them, Kurt couldn't help but feel nervous. He was actually glad his mother had insisted he wear his most expensive suit, he felt out of place right there when faced with the magnitude of what had just arrived before them. He looked down at his jacket and tried to smooth imaginary creases in his worry. His mother glanced at him and he immediately stopped fidgeting and placed his hands by his sides. The footman opened the door to the carriage and the first to step out was Lord Anderson himself. He turned back to offer his hand to his wife, and Lady Anderson stepped out next to him a moment later. They both made their way over to Burt Hummel, Lord Anderson shook his hand and introduced his wife, to which Burt kissed her hand. "Lord and Lady Anderson, what an honour it is to have you here. May I introduce my wife, Elizabeth Hummel." At this, Elizabeth curtseyed and kissed both of her guests' hands before looking at them.
"An honour, truly," she said, smiling from ear to ear.
Burt then turned to Kurt and urged him forward. "This is my eldest son, Kurt." Kurt did as his mother had told him: kissed both the Lord and Lady's hands and bowed before daring to look up at them. "Ahh, a strapping young lad. I'm sure you and my son will get along just fine," Lord Anderson said patting him on the shoulder.
"And this is my daughter, Miss Rachel Hummel," Burt went on, gesturing to the young girl. Rachel effortlessly curtseyed and kissed their hands, but Kurt could see her keep impatiently eyeing the carriage where Blaine was still hiding.
"Son," Lord Anderson bellowed. Kurt flinched for a second, not sure if the man was as angry as his tone suggested. Movement from the carriage caused Rachel to gasp quietly, her fingers twining together in front of her as she anxiously awaited her first glimpse of her future husband. He stepped out and Kurt immediately looked down, not wanting to risk eye contact before they had been properly introduced. He could hear Rachel's swoon as the man sauntered past her and over to his father. "This is my only son, Blaine."
Kurt's eyes remained glued to the ground. He listened as Rachel was introduced to Blaine, the man not being able to squeeze a word in edgeways over Rachel and their fathers. But mostly Rachel. She was prattling on about which room he was to be staying in and the lovely views of the garden it offered. Kurt cleared his throat just loud enough to be heard over Rachel's constant din. Everyone seemed to be all at once alerted to his presence and his father hastened to introduce him to the elder Anderson son.
"Ahh, Blaine this is my oldest son, Kurt," he said, and Blaine turned away from Rachel and extended his hand towards the boy. Kurt bowed, taking it in his hands and kissing it before looking up into the man's eyes. And then… silence.
Kurt couldn't hear anything, he was completely unaware of everyone around him. All he knew was that he was gazing into the most spectacular hazel orbs he had ever seen. They swirled in the light, darker around the edges with golden flecks closer to the pupil. They were framed with the darkest, longest eyelashes he had ever seen on a man before. He let his eyes trail over Blaine's entire face, took in his triangular shaped eyebrows, his nose which was crooked to the side slightly as if it had been broken before, and his full lips. His top lip was shaped like a bow, the centre of it perfectly symmetrical and plump and what Kurt wouldn't have given to lean in and touch it with his own. His skin beneath Kurt's own pale hand was olive in complexion and they complimented each other so well. Blaine's lips parted in a slight smile which revealed his startlingly white teeth, all perfectly round and placed with an artist's precision. His dark hair was gelled back, but Kurt could see one little curl, a rebel which was trying to escape from its confines, falling over the top of his ear and being ruffled in the slight breeze.
He was beautiful. Breath-takingly so. Rachel had been right about his eyes, they were even more incredible in person. Kurt realised he had been holding onto Blaine's hand a little too long and pulled back in embarrassment, but Blaine's grip was firm. Blaine slowly pulled his own hand back, sliding it carefully across the younger boy's palm and leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. Kurt's whole body tensed, he could feel the hairs on his arms rising but tried to just put it down to the breeze.
"Well, let's head inside where we will have your things taken up to your rooms. Shall we?" Burt announced, and everyone made to follow him up the garden path to the front door.
It took Kurt a few seconds to move his suddenly rigid body, his limbs felt like jelly and yet stiff all at the same time. He watched as Blaine kept pace with his father, ignoring Rachel's protests that she would personally show him to his room. Kurt followed at a distance, admiring the man's behind and the way his thighs tensed with each step he took. Everything about him was attractive to Kurt, and when he laughed out loud at a passing comment Lord Anderson had made, Kurt committed the sound to memory, so he could replay it over and over again later on when he was alone.
Kurt was staring at the other man's back, not even pretending to be doing anything else, when Blaine turned his head around to face him. They made eye contact again and Kurt felt the blush rising to his cheeks as he quickly looked down. He didn't see the smirk playing on Blaine's lips, the older man celebrating inwardly that Kurt too was admiring him. This was going to be an interesting few months, both of them thought to themselves, entering the house and quickly being dragged off in separate directions.