What I Call Life
Disclaimer: I'm not RIB, so I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, I'd be rich and probably not writing fanfiction! This fic is an MPREG fic obviously. Yay! Oh, and the summary's the word-for-word prompt from blangstpromptoftheday (on tumblr - check them out!) The song mentioned in this chapter is Gorilla by Bruno Mars. It's a good song; you should listen to it. By the way, I don't have rights to that either and I am not affiliated with Bruno or anything related to him though I'd very much like to be if you know what I mean. Anyway, I own nothing!
Everything in the club shifted the second Kurt and the rest of his table realized who was dancing for them. The mood, the music, the whole fucking atmosphere - hell, time shifted and all everyone could do was stare dumbly as Kurt's ex came sauntering towards them, his once expressive hazel eyes dim in the lighting. Bruno Mars' old hit Gorilla boomed through the sound system and Blaine - no, Shadow - moved along to the beat, his hips swaying as he made his way towards Kurt. Just watching him was mesmerizing because Kurt knew that Blaine could move; they'd been intimate thousands of times way back in the day. However, this movement, this dance was something completely new. He'd never moved like that. Never.
This was a completely new Blaine and Kurt could see how much different he was when his ex was right on him. His scent was different, more musky, less fruity like it had been when they were younger. His overall look had changed too and the tiny (god were they tiny) shorts he wore left little to the imagination.
"Show 'em what you're made of, Shadow. Give 'em your best!" The DJ cheered and the audience yelled loudly, clapping as Shadow finally came face-to-face with who they all thought was an unknown, unexpecting future groom. No one else in the place minus the four people sitting at the table that Blaine was now dancing at knew about the past that preceded them. No one else knew of the pain and heartbreak that the dancer and the groom-to-be he was about to grind on dealt with just three years ago.
Nobody knew, so nobody noticed the pained expression on Kurt's face when Blaine smacked his hands on the side of the leather seat he was sitting in, his body rolling forward hips first as he got into Kurt's tiny little bubble of personal space and began doing what he'd been told to do, what he was being paid to do.
"Blaine-"
His ex's eyes flew up to lock with his for just a second before Blaine looked away, climbing up into the seat to continue his dance. Hands were all over the place (Blaine's only, Kurt was afraid to touch and he wasn't sure if the joint had a no touching rule) as Blaine gripped the back of the chair and ground against Kurt to the beat of the music. The lights' coloring changed along with the beat and as each splash fell over Blaine's bare skin, Kurt could feel his heart throbbing in his chest as well as his stomach swirling sourly over the thought of what was happening to him. Beside him, his friends were still watching in shock, none of them believing what they were seeing.
This guy tugging on Kurt's feather boa and moving so seductively was not the once bubbly, theatrical boy they'd once known. Blaine had never been so blatantly sexual; things between him and Kurt were done behind closed doors and if they were ever caught in public displaying any bit of affection, it was usually PG. This was a whole new world for them and obviously it was for Kurt too, considering the wide-eyed awe that painted his face. His tiara was tilted, barely hanging on by the useless little clips that Santana had secured to his locks right before they got out of the limo and his sash was askew, its companion boa discarded on the floor.
Blaine, in the meantime, was working magic with his hips in a way that none of them had ever witnessed.
Look what you've done! The song boomed, Bruno's voice yelling through the speakers; the words smacked Kurt in the core and his eyes shot up towards Blaine's face again, tears brimming in them when he noticed the blank expression that befell his ex as the younger man climbed off of his lap and danced up behind him, strong arms linking over his chest as he nuzzled his cheek against Kurt's hair, panting breathlessly as the exertion of his dancing (and probably the strain of trying to breathe around his old friends) overtook him. The song continued to play on and Blaine continued his work, slipping in back in front of Kurt as his fingers made quick work of tugging at his barely there shorts.
"God-"
The shorts fell quickly, revealing an incredibly thin midnight blue thong. His whole everything could be seen in that sorry excuse of fabric and Kurt felt his already hot cheeks grow warmer as he debated over pulling Blaine in for a kiss or grabbing something to cover him up with. Who are you? What happened to the old you? Before his mind could form another coherent thought, Blaine was turned around, ass grinding into Kurt's lap as he reached his arms back and fanned them into his ex's hair. Everything was becoming way too heated too fast and Kurt shut his eyes, swallowing heavily when he felt his arousal building two fold. Blaine could probably feel it; his bare ass was right there, but if he did, he didn't even pull a face at it.
God, what if he was used to that reaction. Jesus. Disgust at the whole situation bubbled in his belly and he opened his eyes again, breath catching in his throat when he took a closer look at Blaine and found his ex's face turned towards him, eyes closed, long beautiful lashes fanned over his shimmering cheekbones. Even through the rainbow of lights, Kurt could see every little freckle that decorated the bridge of Blaine's nose. Blaine, fuck. He wanted to kiss him, pull him close and cover him up and get him out of this wretched place, but he couldn't. Blaine wasn't his anymore and the longer he thought about that, the more he wished he had a fucking time machine that he could use to go back and tell his past self to run back and stop Blaine before he became... before he became this.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize the song was over until Blaine was sliding off of his lap, hands loosening from his hair as he picked up Kurt's tiara (that had fallen onto the floor) and placed it back on his head. For a second, he straightened the stupid plastic decoration, getting it to firmly sit back where it was when they first came in before he finally stepped back. "Congrats on your engagement," the barely clad man whispered and then he turned to walk away, pausing when Santana hollered at him and pushed a pile of money towards him.
"Take it, Shadow. You deserve it." It took Blaine a moment to step forward, like he was debating on taking the money at all, but the amount of bills seemed to be too tempting, so he grabbed them as well as his discarded booty shorts off of the floor.
"Thanks."
"It was nice seeing you again," Rachel said softly, her voice still quiet from the shock that seemed to have fallen over the whole group. Blaine looked at her for a second, eyes flashing with something before he turned on his heel and left, his boots clicking across the floor as he made his way through several tables of rowdy men. Kurt and the others watched in horror as their former friend was groped and smacked at as he walked through. One brute even had the audacity to grab Blaine's hips as he walked by, yanking the smaller man towards him. He pressed a kiss to Blaine's flat stomach and used his hands to knead at Blaine's uncovered ass, earning a cheer from the buzzed crowd before another dancer - one of the women who just so happened to be walking through to get to her set - yanked Blaine away and scolded the customer.
While she was reprimanding the jerk who manhandled Blaine, their friend snuck away to the back, arms still full of his clothing and whatever money people had thrown at him during his act. His head was downcast and as he ducked behind the curtain backstage, Kurt swore he saw Blaine rub his cheek against his shorts... as if he was wiping away tears.
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After the shock of seeing Blaine again began to wear off, the group got up and walked outside, huddling together beneath one of several street lamps, far enough from the crowd of creepers who were hovering outside hassling some of the other dancers who were out on smoke breaks.
"I can't believe we found him. It's been so long," Mercedes commented, breaking the ice after a few moments of just standing there in the breezy night air. Santana had been miraculously quiet ever since Blaine took the money she offered him and Kurt wondered what was going through her head. As for Rachel, she kept sending longing looks at the club, shaking her head every so often as she watched drunken assholes paw at the women who stood outside.
"Why aren't the bouncers doing anything? What kind of shady place is this?"
"Obviously one that doesn't care about its employees," Santana finally said, looking away from the group for a second as she dug into her bag and pulled out a two-pack of cheap cigars, lighting one and putting it between her lips. Kurt watched her smoke, lips pursed as she pulled in a deep drag of whatever flavor her cigar was, and he almost asked her for the other one because he needed something to do. Standing out there with his nerves all shot like they were wasn't helping. All he could see was Blaine in front of him, Blaine's hips moving against him. He could still smell the lingering scent of his ex on his clothes and there was glitter all over him, a reminder of what just happened inside of some random strip club in California.
It had been three years since he last saw or even heard of Blaine Anderson... and now he found him, in a fucking strip club on the side of the road.
::::::::::
"Excuse me? Is there any possible way you could tell me what time the dancer Shadow gets off work?"
The platinum blonde headed girl on the other side of the bar raised a dark eyebrow, setting the glass she was cleaning to the side as she leaned over the long wooden table and showed off her ample cleavage. "I'd ask you why you were looking for someone like him, but your voice totally gave you away. Oh, and your hags. Cute bunch. But no, sweetheart, we don't give out information like that. It's not safe for the dancers."
"Oh, but it's okay for customers to grope them and paw at them like they're food to be eaten? Really classy joint you have here. Really fucking classy."
The girl smirked, rolling her eyes before she turned away from him and went down the bar, completely ignoring him as he continued to ask her about Shadow's whereabouts. Behind him, a person cleared their throat and he turned, not surprised to find Santana there hiking up her dress and adjusting her cleavage.
"Give me a sec," his friend said, sweeping down the bar towards one of the other bartenders. Within seconds (and with a drink in tow), she came back with a small piece of paper that she tucked away in her bra ("This has nothing to do with Anderson. It's for my eyes only. Take this drink.") and then she began to tell him what she learned. Blaine would get off work around three and it was nearing that hour soon, so Kurt's best bet would be to hang out on the side of the building where the dancers usually exited for the night. The whole thing screamed unsafe to Kurt, but he nodded nonetheless and told his friends to wait for him before he crept outside and went to wait for Blaine to leave.
At three on the dot, the heavy metal door leading to the back of the club opened up and Blaine stepped out, right on time. He was wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, the hood covering his face as he fidgeted with his cellphone and walked straight through the parking lot. Kurt followed close behind, words caught in his throat as he watched the once love of his life get further away from him. He knew he should've said something, should've alerted Blaine to his presence, but he couldn't - his voice wasn't cooperating. However, his footfalls against the pavement gave him away and Blaine quickly spun on his heel to confront him.
"Whoever you are, I don't want- oh."
"Blaine-"
"Go away, Kurt."
"Can we talk? Just for a second? We haven't seen each other in-"
"No. No we will not talk. I have places to be and I have to go now. Also, I could give two shits about how long its been since we last saw each other. I wasn't the one who cut anybody out of their life and I definitely wasn't the one who turned who I thought were my friends against me either."
"Blaine, please-"
The other guy growled and kept walking, his direction finally showing that he was going towards a car that was idling in the lot. From what Kurt could see, there was a woman leaning against the vehicle and she was glaring at him as the two of them got closer to her. "You want me to get rid of this jerk?" She asked. Blaine waved her off, telling her to get in the car, but before he could say anything else, a high pitched squeal of the word daddy sounded from the back of the vehicle and Blaine instantly froze.
"You didn't say he was awake. Why's he awake?"
"He woke up on the way here! I've had him all day. Cooper wouldn't answer his phone so I kept him longer than I was supposed to. Which, by the way, caused me to miss work and-"
"God, Avery, I'm so sorry. I made decent tips tonight, so whatever you would've made, I can give-"
"No," the woman (Avery, Kurt thought to himself) declined the offer, rolling her eyes as she opened the front door to the car. When it was open, the entire interior lit up and Kurt's eyes widened when he spotted a small child buckled into a car seat staring back at him. At first, when he heard the word daddy he thought it was a joke, but now... now seeing into the vehicle, his heart felt like it quit beating. Because there in the car seat was the most adorable little boy; his hair was around Kurt's shade of brown and it was curly, cut into a cute little hairstyle that made him look a lot like Blaine did whenever he didn't gel his hair. Also, the toddler (Kurt estimated that he couldn't have been older than two or three) had bright amber eyes that looked a lot like Blaine's. In his hand was a ragged looking stuffed animal and when Kurt took a closer look at the toy the kid had, his entire body grew icy with realization.
It was Margaret Thatcher dog. Oh god.
The sound of car doors slamming thrust him back into reality and he looked up, eyes widening when the vehicle started to drive away. "Wait!" He called out, waving his arms into the air. He yelled for them to stop, to give him a chance to explain, but the woman driving rolled down her window and flipped him off, sending the car peeling from the lot before she, Blaine, and the mystery child that Kurt had a strange feeling was his disappeared into the dark night.
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"So you mean to tell me that Blaine might have a kid... and it might be yours?"
"I saw him, Santana! He looked like Blaine, but a little like me and he... he's around two or three. He has to be! And if he's three, then he's got to be mine. There's no way he could be anyone else's."
Rachel and Mercedes shook their heads sadly, each taking one of Kurt's shaking hands within their own as the group of them sat out on the sidewalk outside of the club. As soon as Blaine left, Kurt called Rachel to let him know he was outside and as soon as they came out, he broke down.
"What am I gonna do?"
"Well, we're gonna find out his personal info and then you're gonna pay him a visit to find out if that kid's really yours... and if it is, umm... then you need to do something about it." Before anyone could say anything else, Santana was up and at 'em again, hiking up her dress so that her ass was barely covered. She pulled the straps down on her dress and made sure her boobs looked good before she waltzed back into the club, coming out a few minutes later with a smirk and another piece of paper. "This one you can have. You're welcome."
Kurt stared down at the small scrawl on the note and his heart throbbed in his chest. There was an address written on it and below that read: Shadow starts his shift tomorrow at 10. Good luck! Taking another look at the apartment number, Kurt entered the info into his phone and set his GPS, thankful that he'd be able to possibly talk to Blaine after all. He'd take the rest of the evening to sleep (or not, his nerves were shot to hell) and then he'd practice what he was going to say. Because if he knew any better, tomorrow wasn't going to be pretty and even though he hated to think that way, he knew he deserved it, especially after what happened between them so many years before.
"So what are you going to do?" Mercedes asked, rubbing Kurt's arm when he finally put his phone away. She laced their fingers together again once his hand was free. "Are you going to-"
"I'm going to visit him. We need to talk and I need to know why he's doing this. He's so much better than this."
"But what about Alex?"
"I'll deal with him later. Right now, I need to talk to Blaine."
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Cherrywood Apartments #206.
Kurt tucked the worn piece of paper into his pants pocket and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to knock on the door. The complex itself seemed nice enough and the place was located in what looked like a decent neighborhood, but one could never tell with places like this and it scared Kurt a bit to know that Blaine was probably living here all alone with his child. Their child... possibly.
Quickly, he knocked, letting his knuckles tap sharply against the wood several times before he stepped back to wait. No one answered after five minutes, so he knocked again, shaking his head when his knocks went unanswered once more. "Blaine?" He called out, leaning close to the entrance to see if he could hear a child's laughter or footsteps somewhere inside. He heard nothing. "Blaine?"
"Are you looking for Blaine Anderson?" A soft voice questioned. Kurt turned to find a little old woman standing in the doorway of apartment #207; she was small in stature and had hair of blue-grey. Her face was kind and she smiled when Kurt nodded at her. "He and Landon went to the farmer's market about an hour ago. They should be home shortly. The market closed at two."
"Oh... umm, thank you."
"You're welcome." As soon as she was done speaking, she shut the door in his face, surprising the hell out of him. He didn't think neighbors were usually that friendly - his weren't - and he wondered if Blaine knew that his elderly neighbor liked to tell complete strangers of his whereabouts or how long he was going to be gone. It wasn't safe, that's for sure, and he knew he at least had to mention it to Blaine if he was given the chance to speak to his ex. Sighing, he leaned back against Blaine's front door and slid down to sit on his butt, pulling his phone out of his pocket before he completely sat down. While he waited, he texted his friends about the situation: about Blaine's somewhat talkative neighbor, how the complex looked, and how terrified he was getting ready to confront the whole situation. It was in the midst of his texting back to Rachel that the dinging sound of the elevator opening made him look up and there they were: Blaine and Landon walking hand-in-hand down the hall, Blaine with his free hand lugging a canvas bag of food. His son swung Margaret Thatcher dog around as they came closer, grinning as he hummed and skipped towards their apartment. Upon spotting Kurt rising from the floor, Blaine froze, eyes narrowing as he slowly pulled Landon behind him.
"Leave."
"I need to talk to you."
"Oh, so you stalk me back to my home? Really cute, Kurt. Honestly, leave. I will call the cops."
"I don't care. I just really need to speak with you. Give me five minutes? Please, Blaine, I'm begging you."
"So you think you deserve five minutes of my time when you couldn't even give me five minutes of yours back then? Ha, that's funny. Move away from my door and let me get into my apartment. Then you can leave and go back to wherever you live and don't you ever come near me again."
Kurt refused to budge, body still blocking the doorway to Blaine's apartment. He inhaled sharply, eyes falling to where a hazel eyed child was poking his little head out from behind Blaine's knee, his stuffed dog held up against his face as he quizzically checked out the man his daddy was arguing with. As the two of them stared at each other, Blaine grew angrier, dropping his bag of groceries down on the floor before he leaned down and swept Landon up into his arms.
"I'm going to give you until the count of five to move away from the my door. If you don't, I'll call the cops. If you move, I'll go inside and you can get the hell out of my life again, okay? I've been doing just fine without you, so what makes you think I need you in my life right now? You don't deserve five minutes or even five seconds of my time. Now move." He reached down to pick up his bag of food again and while he was concentrating on doing that, Kurt struck.
"Is he mine, Blaine?"
The words smacked into the younger man like a freight train and he almost stumbled back with the force of the emotional wave that overcame him. This was not how he expected his week to go. This was not how he expected ever seeing Kurt again to go. When he was a little younger and the break-up (and pain) was still fresh, he always imagined seeing Kurt in LA one day and his ex would see him and rush to him, begging for forgiveness. Then he'd meet Landon and fall in love with him and the rest would be history.
Never in a million years did he imagine being called over to do a bachelor party lapdance only to find out that the groom-to-be was none other than the man he was once engaged to. And to have that man standing on his doorstep right now demanding to have a word with him pissed him off like no other. Kurt didn't have any right to do this to him, not the way he acted during that month after he broke off their engagement... and now, knowing that he was to be married to someone else, it made everything so much worse.
Never in his life had Blaine ever thought he'd want to smack the shit out of Kurt, but right now, seeing him staring at Landon like he deserved to know whether or not the child in Blaine's arms was his own made Blaine want to take his son over to his neighbor's house and have her cover his ears while his daddy went back outside to knock the shit out of his ex.
Jesus, Blaine, when did you become so mean? His mind questioned and inwardly, he rolled his eyes. When you deal with all the shit I have that's what happens. "Move, Kurt."
"Is he mine? That's all I want to know."
Blaine huffed. "Three years ago you broke my heart and didn't even give me a chance to explain anything. Three years ago you shut me out and wouldn't even answer the phone when I tried to call you because I found out some interesting news and all I wanted to do was tell you. I called you. I called Santana. I called Rachel, Mercedes, Artie, and even Sam, who I thought was my best friend - and you want to know what they did? None of them answered. You didn't either and I thought... I thought that at least one of you would. But then I thought about it: I was sitting at my apartment alone while you were all having dinner without me and no one even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come along anymore, not since you broke up with me, so why did it matter? Why was I even bothering just to be in contact with any of you when none of you wanted anything to do with me?"
"Blaine-"
"So I packed up my stuff and I left. I came here and I've never looked back. I never thought I'd ever see you again. I thought I'd start anew here; make a life for me and my son and yet, here you are. Out of all the fucking strip clubs in the world, you had to come into mine and I'm trying to figure out who the hell I pissed off up there because why does this shit always happen to me?"
"Blaine, I-"
"Save it. Okay? Just let me past and you can go back to wherever it is you came from, go get married, and raise a goddamn family with whoever it is that has your heart now." Blaine stepped forward, keys in hand, but Kurt didn't move. Instead, his eyes were still on Landon, who had now hidden his tiny head in the juncture of Blaine's neck like he was scared that his daddy was so upset - that or he was trying to comfort the man holding him because Blaine was shaking pretty badly.
"I just want to talk to you. Just for five-"
"Enough with the five minutes thing! Go home, Kurt! You don't belong here. Go back and be a big star or whatever it is that you're doing now. Go back and live that perfect life that you wanted so badly that I just had to be out of. My life is fine here. Landon and I are okay and we don't need you. So go!"
All of the fight within Kurt deflated over Blaine's words. Go be a big star. Go live that perfect life that I just had to be out of. That's what Blaine felt like now when it came to him; Kurt shut him out and moved on. He was engaged, he'd moved on, and god, did it look bad. It looked so bad in Kurt's eyes and he couldn't even imagine what it was like to Blaine to see this. Especially if Kurt was the dad of the little boy in his arms (of which he was sure he was - he just hadto be. Blaine's words and the way the child looked just screamed that Kurt was the father.)
"Fine." The older man relented, stepping out of Blaine's way and off to the side while his ex fidgeted with the keys, quickly unlocking the door before he sped his way into the apartment. Right before he slammed the door shut behind him, Kurt looked up and found himself staring into Landon's hypnotic amber eyes, unable to tear himself away from the confused look in them as the child struggled to figure out why his daddy was so upset. Across the bridge of the toddler's nose were hundreds of little light freckles, a lot like the ones Kurt had all over his own face and when Landon leaned his head up a bit to fully look at Kurt before the door shut, Kurt almost stumbled back into the wall. The child's pout was the carbon copy of his own; there were pictures at his dad's house of him making that exact same face and even though Kurt knew it wasn't a complete positive to the whole paternity of Landon thing, he was sure that the child in Blaine's arms was definitely his, no matter how much Blaine kept beating around the bush.
Now if only he could get his ex to give him a few minutes to talk, apologize, and explain everything that happened between them. If only.
A/N: I swear to god I let stories run away with me. I tell myself that I'll only write short chapters and blah blah blah and then every damn time, the chapter comes out over 4,000 words and then I'm like WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Anyway, I'd love to know what you thought. Reviews give me LIFE.
