Okay, so here's the start of the actual Kurt/Quinn storyline…
Thanks for the reviews, and I thought I should mention again that this story is the SEQUEL to my story 'Everything You Feel,' so if you're confused or have no idea what the heck is going on, go read that!
Thanks! 3
Kurt's POV
If I had to break down one of my regular weeks for you, this is how it would go: I spend one sixth of my time at Mercedes's house, one sixth at school with teachers whose main mission is to make my brain leak out through my ears, one sixth at high-stakes Glee practices for Nationals, one sixth at home with my Dad studying for SATs or whatnot, one sixth at Finn's, and the remaining sixth at Mr. Schuster and Mrs. Pillsbury's new house with Quinn and Carrie.
Quite a contrast when you consider how I spent my time in the ninth grade: that would be 100% of it in my room, alone.
Sunday I'd been with Finn, doing nothing out of the ordinary. It felt like I was caught in an endless loop of dullness sometimes. Sure, I had lots to do, but all of it was so predictable that it made my head ache. I suppose I seem ungrateful. You've got to understand: I loved having all of this. But than again, I would kill for some excitement.
Monday I went home with Quinn. Mr. Schu and Mrs. P were used to all of the Glee kids tramping though their kitchen unexpectedly at all hours of the day. They understood though. Actually, they were nice enough about it to cook us dinner when we came over. That Monday in particular, I drilled Quinn on her science unit while I dressed dolls with Carrie until dinnertime. Under any other circumstances, it might have been weird having dinner with your teachers at their house, but since Quinn lived there, and Mr. Schu was the Glee director, it felt more natural. Besides, they needed someone there to stop Carrie from throwing her peas at the ceiling fan, didn't they?
"We're going to take Nationals this year, I can see it," Mr. Schuster said as he shoveled his garden salad into his mouth.
"Mama and Uncle Kurt win Nalnals!" Carrie squealed, smearing mashed potatoes around her high chair tray.
"We sure will, baby doll," I swallowed. Mrs. Pillsbury was an exceptional cook, and I always ate way more than I should when I was there.
Caroline banged her heels against the bottom of her seat. "Barbie Princess on TV tonight?"
The four of us rolled our eyes in sync and braced ourselves for yet another night of Carrie's endless collection of Barbie movies. Seriously…I have no idea what I was thinking when I bought those things.
After dinner, we got Carrie into her adorable footie pajamas and sat her down on the couch with Barbie: Rapunzel whirring along in the DVD player. I sat with her while Quinn showered, trying to turn out the all too familiar dialogue while I looked over my notes from my biology class. Carrie talked right along with the movie:
"Once in a castle far, far away, dere lived a boooootiful pwincess and her eeeeeevil stepmother…"
When we finally got Carrie to bed after much protesting (I'm not tired! I wanna watch the Barbie Nutcracker! NUTCRACKER, MOMMY! AHHHHH!) I sat with Quinn for a while in her bedroom. Mr. Schuster and Mrs. Pillsbury really took her under their wing when she moved in. They'd furnished both her room and Carrie's nursery for free. The curtains and the bedspread in Quinn's room were a soft pink, the walls painted a tranquil beige. The rocking chair in the corner made it seem like a room that belonged to someone much older, but the posters of popular music artists on the wall suggested otherwise.
Now, Quinn sat cross-legged in her rocking chair, a lavender afghan thrown lazily around her shoulders. I flopped down on my stomach on her bed, exhausted from school and from dealing with an energetic two year old. That being said, Quinn had to do it all of the time, so I can only imagine how she felt.
Of all of the things in my tiresome schedule, I'd have to say that talking with Quinn was among my favorites. Everyone thought she was a dumb blonde, but she was smart, and surprisingly cultured. Everyone thinks that when you have a baby in high school, you instantly become a tired, depressed person who doesn't have any friends and can't keep up in school. Sooth to say, Quinn was very much the opposite.
Tonight, she sat back in her rocking chair and closed her eyes.
"Tell me more about Finn," she said. She asked me to do this often. After the first few times I realized that she didn't really want to hear about Finn, she just wanted to hear about what it was like. I didn't bug her about it. Everyone knew as well as I did that she hadn't been with anyone since before Carrie was born. I guess she liked to imagine.
"Well," I said, in a humorous state of mind, "the poetry's nice, when he uses proper grammar."
The corners of Quinn's mouth turned up and she chuckled for a moment. "Seriously, though…"
The rush of emotions of felt caught me off guard. The words started pouring out of my mouth before I could stop them. "You know what? Finn is the best guy in the world, and I love him more than words can possibly describe, but lately I've been feeling… bored."
Quinn opened her eyes in a small gesture of sympathy. "Really?"
"Yes," I flicked my hand in the air helplessly. "I'm not sure what it is. I just want something to feel fresh and new and exciting in our relationship again. I mean, if feels like we're an old married couple already!"
Quinn looked thoughtful. "So have you ever thought about just seeing someone else?"
I guffawed. "Of course not. I love Finn… I just…"
"You just want something different," she finished.
I nodded and met her eyes. She was staring at me attentively in that focused way that only Quinn FaBray can, her head tilted slightly off center. Something about that look made my pulse race, and I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Before I knew what I was doing, I lifted myself up off of the bed and made my way over to her rocking chair. It seemed I was having one of those moments where you don't really know what you're doing or why you're doing it. Like right before you faint, or when you're sleepwalking. Right then, I felt like that.
You can't say I'm completely to blame for what happened next, because she stood up, and all of a sudden she was in my arms. I suppose it was both of us, really: falling together. I was a head taller than her, product of a growth spurt I'd only just grown into. I laced my arms around her lower back, a maneuver that Finn always used on me. Her elbows were tucked down by my ribcage, her hands resting on my shoulders.
It was one of those times where everything felt completely wrong, but in another sense altogether, it felt utterly right.
Her eyes darted back and forth between mine, her pink lips parting slightly. I could feel her heart pounding against mine, her sweet breath tickling the curve between my jaw and my chin. For an instant, it didn't matter that I way gay, or that I had a boyfriend, or that Quinn was one of my best friends. Something was changing. She dominated all five of my senses, and for that moment, my mind was monopolized by her, her, her. All thoughts of Finn were miles and miles away.
Who knows what would have happened if Carrie hadn't woken up right then. We broke apart quickly when a waning cry floated down the hall from Carrie's bedroom. Quinn blushed redder than I'd ever seen her blush.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered as she fled off down the hall towards her daughter's room. I was left standing in the beige and pink room alone, my ability to breath stolen right out from under me. Like a sleepwalker waking up in the middle of a dream, I was disoriented and confused.
What exactly just happened?
Alright, I knew I was gay, but I couldn't deny the fact that I had felt something standing there with Quinn.
I had felt something. I only wish I knew what it was.
As I heard Carrie's crying cease, I knew that it wasn't safe to stay there. Because I was gay, I had a boyfriend, and if I couldn't control myself around one of my best friends who I wasn't even supposed to be attracted to, I didn't know what I'd come to.
I left without saying goodbye.