Title:Undisclosed Desires
Author: AoiTsukikage
Rating: R for now
Characters/Pairing: Finn/Kurt/Blaine, in all combinations.
Chapter: 1/?
Word Count: 2097
Spoilers: Let's say everything to be safe :)
Summary/Warnings: From a tumblr prompt. Blaine and Kurt are both having secret affairs with Finn while trying to keep their own relationship from falling apart. But not everything is as simple as it seems, and nothing can stay secret for long.
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own these characters, no matter how sad that makes me. I do, however, promise to return them when I'm done with them. :)
Undisclosed Desires
Chapter One
Kurt wakes up cold, shivering under the thin blankets, and realizes that Blaine's never come back.
He's done it before, staying out of the room, but normally he'd still sneak back in at some point, usually smelling of stale alcohol, and curl his body around Kurt's as best he could.
Not this morning, though.
Kurt kicks back the blanket and sits up, stretching, before pulling on a pair of boxers and an old McKinley t-shirt (probably Finn's, but that's not important) and heading to the kitchen, seeing Blaine slumped over the table with an empty bottle of vodka resting by his hand.
"Blaine," he smacks his own hand down on the table, much too hard for the no-doubt-hungover man, but this wasn't the first time.
Far from it.
"Wuzzat?" Blaine blinks and raises his head, groaning. "Hey, lover."
"Don't 'hey lover' me. We've talked about this," Kurt waves the bottle and Blaine shrugs, his eyes bloodshot and unfocussed, and Kurt sighs and takes the bottle to rinse it out before setting it on the counter. "Blaine, I'm worried about you…"
"Yeah, well don't be. I c'n take care of m'self," Blaine slurs, trying to stand up but his legs won't support him and he slumps in the chair, groaning and holding his head.
"I don't understand how you even get it!" Kurt mutters, washing some other dirty dishes (Finn never has learned how to pick up after himself) in order to keep himself busy. "Nobody in their right mind would think you were twenty-one. Even when you are twenty-one they won't believe you're twenty-one," he finishes and slams the dishcloth down into the sink, crossing his arms and scowling.
"Friends from school," Blaine mumbles against his arm, head dropped toward the table once more, and Kurt forces himself to calm down.
"Are you paying for it? You know we don't have any money to spare, not with my NYADA tuition and especially not now that Rachel's moved out, considering that she was making more than all of us with her Broadway earnings," he towels off his hands properly and hangs up the dishcloth, sighing.
"I make money," Blaine hiccups. "I've got…got the backup gigs, too, and…and the coffee shop…"
"Not enough to afford a full bottle of Gray Goose every week," Kurt feels his anger dissipating, turning into a clawing disappointment that settles low in his gut like a bad stomach-ache. It's not a pleasant feeling.
"Dun'worry about it…"
"I worry about us paying rent every month!"
"'s fine," Blaine mumbles, staring at the glass tabletop intently. "I won'…I'll have money, Kurt, I…"
He stops as Finn enters the kitchen and Kurt's eyes follow him, unaware that Blaine's doing the same thing.
God, he's gorgeous; shirtless and tanned and toned and without a care in the world as he grabs the milk carton and swigs from it, an action which normally would have Kurt griping at him but his throat's gone dry.
"Morning, dudes," Finn waves casually and Kurt stammers out a suitable reply as Blaine suddenly leaps to his feet and tears off toward the bathroom, Kurt grimacing as the unpleasant sounds of him expelling all of the poison he'd ingested echo through the small space. "Was he drinking?" Finn asks, swilling more milk, and how he can think about putting anything into his body when Blaine's doing the opposite in the washroom is beyond Kurt, but then…that's Finn.
"What do you think?" Kurt replies snippily, spinning the bottle carelessly in his hand.
Sometimes he really wonders why he's still with Blaine, when the two of them are obviously unhappy. Blaine's…different, and Kurt's not sure if it happened during his senior year in Lima, but obviously while the Blaine he knew in high school was a sloppy drunk and made rather bad decisions while inebriated, he wasn't an alcoholic and this caustic, acidic tone he took far too often these days hadn't existed.
And yes, maybe Kurt's changed as well. He's older, more mature, a little more world-wise, but still at heart the same boy he was in high school.
He thinks.
"Have you talked to him?" Finn's still carelessly drinking from the carton and Kurt finally loses patience with him and snags it away, shoving it back in the fridge and slamming the door. "That's a yes?"
"Yes, I've talked to him, but it's not making any impact. This was full two days ago, Finn! Full!" he waves the bottle again. "He's killing himself! Do you have any idea what this stuff does to your liver?"
They can hear retching again and Finn makes a face as Kurt slumps against the counter, exhausted even though he's just woken up.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he sets the bottle down and hides his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. He doesn't want to cry, not in front of Finn, but the tears won't seem to listen to him. "I don't…"
"Hey, it's okay," Finn doesn't move but Kurt can hear the concern in his voice. "Look, dude, he's gonna be fine. You'll figure this out…"
"What if we don't?" Kurt mewls, rather pitifully. God, this would all be so much easier if Finn were just gay, rather than…whatever he is. Even with the family thing, Kurt would still be grateful if that were true.
But…he sighs and starts cleaning the countertops, anything to keep his hands busy, and knows that the proper way out of this situation would be to call everything off with Finn so he could focus on Blaine…his boyfriend…and maybe it's time to do that.
Maybe he and Finn need to stop doing…whatever it is that they're doing, and go back to just being stepbrothers.
That's probably for the best.
He turns to impart this sudden knowledge when there's a crash from the bathroom and Blaine's weak rasped insistence that he's okay, and goes back to scrubbing the counter, unknowingly working at the same spot with such fervour the cloth is starting to shred.
"Hey," Finn gently touches his wrist and Kurt snaps back to himself, the ragged cloth in his hand as he clenches his fist and raises it to his mouth, biting his knuckle and trying to hold back those traitorous tears. "Hey, let it out, bro."
Bro, Kurt thinks muzzily. You may be sleeping together, but he still just sees you as his 'bro.'
It's probably only logical in Finn's world.
He shakes his head, still unwilling to break down, but Finn hugs him from behind, forehead pressed down against his shoulder and he's warm and large and safe, Finn's always been safe, and Kurt slumps back against him and whimpers a little.
"Cry, Kurt. You can cry," Finn urges, lips brushing his skin as they move, and Kurt does, turning and burying his face in Finn's shoulder, hands mapping out his back before his arms lock around Finn's neck. "It'll be okay. We'll figure this out, I can help you if you want…I mean, if he needs help…"
"I don't deserve you," Kurt sobs, feeling Finn tense and again there's a slight niggling in the back of his brain: why does Finn suddenly seem to care so much about Blaine? Why is he acting like he's the guilty one?
He shoves the irritating mind-voice aside and falls into the familiar comfort of Finn's arms, the other man relaxing and holding him close. He can hear the sound of water running in the washroom and knows that Blaine's cleaning up, so he and Finn had best separate before things start to look more suspicious than they already were.
"Right," he pulls away. "I'll…look after him. You go do whatever you had planned," Kurt tries to put a brave smile but it's obvious Finn isn't buying it, and the other man pulls him in once more and rubs his back for a few seconds before letting him go.
"If you're sure. I'm gonna hit the gym for a while but I'll be back for lunch. Cool?" he smiles, boyish and young with his dimples, and Kurt shakes his head and forces himself to nod.
He has to figure out Blaine by himself for now.
"Of course. I'll get rid of this," he finally drops the bottle in the recycle, almost wishing it would break and he could look at the shards in the knowledge that Blaine could never drink from it again, but of course it doesn't; merely lands in the plastic bin with a dull 'thud,' Kurt's gut still roiling at the thought of the caustic liquid burning down Blaine's throat.
He needs to focus on Blaine. He needs to let go of Finn. He needs to…
"Call me if you need help, alright?" Finn's eyes are warm, chocolate-brown and flecked with green in the early morning light, and Kurt's knees go weak as the taller man leans in for a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Later, man."
Kurt presses a hand to his cheek, feeling a blush rise on his face and that one spot tingles warmer than ever.
…He's not letting go of Finn.
Sometimes he thinks he's the only one keeping him sane.
000
When Blaine comes out of the washroom, freshly showered and looking marginally more human, Kurt's stomach has settled enough that he's eating a bowl of yogurt and granola, glasses on and reading the newspaper as Blaine slouches over and groans before slumping into a chair.
"Feeling better?" Kurt asks softly, deciding that at this point kindness will work better than sarcasm.
"A bit."
"Want anything to eat?"
Blaine gags and Kurt takes that as a 'no,' continuing to munch until he notices his boyfriend staring at him, bleary-eyed and with his curls tousled and free, and there's something so young and familiar about him that for a moment Kurt believes he's the same boy he met that first day at Dalton.
"Ginger ale?" he raises an eyebrow knowingly and Blaine nods, so Kurt crosses to the fridge and cracks open a can, the hiss of air escaping echoing loudly through the kitchen. He pours out a glass, passing it to the other man and stopping to run a soothing hand through his hair.
"Thanks, babe," Blaine smiles a little before sipping at it, groaning as it slides down his throat.
"It can't burn any worse than the vodka," Kurt grunts, realizing that he's being sardonic but thinking that it's warranted this time.
"It doesn't. But…God," Blaine groans, finishing about half the glass before setting it aside and starting to fidget, shifting from side-to-side until Kurt looks up again.
"Yes?"
"I…can we…" Blaine shakes his head. "I just…"
And Kurt can read him easily enough at this point; knows what he's asking for before he even asks it. "You want to go back to bed?" he asks and Blaine nods meekly, curling in on himself on the chair as Kurt moves around the table to pull him gently to his feet and help him to the bedroom.
"Why're you being so nice to me?" Blaine whispers, head dropped against Kurt's shoulder as he pulls the blankets back and settles the shorter man in the bed.
"Because I love you," Kurt says without hesitation, the words slipping easily off his tongue and with no hint of a lie.
He does love Blaine. Truly he does.
He slides in behind his boyfriend, hearing Blaine humming something under his breath, and apparently he wasn't the only one thinking about their very first meeting today.
"Teenage Dream?" he asks with a laugh, brushing Blaine's hair out of his eyes and leaning in for a kiss, tasting nothing but minty mouthwash and the slight sharp tang of ginger ale.
"What happened to ours, Kurt? What happened to us?" Blaine asks, maudlin even in his mostly-sober state, and Kurt wonders the same thing almost every day but he can't say so. "We were supposed to be perfect. Innocent and happy and…"
"Happy," Kurt echoes. "You're not happy."
"I don't know…" Blaine shakes his head and curls closer, clutching at Kurt's arms with an almost frightening desperation. "I…I love you, but…"
"We'll figure it out," Kurt vows.
They will. They're strong enough to make it through this.
Blaine's still humming, murmuring a word now and again, and Kurt adds his voice in a lilting harmony as he strokes Blaine's cheeks and stares deep into his hazel eyes.
No regrets, just love, he thinks bitterly.
There's plenty of love left, he's sure of that.
But there's also plenty of regret.
And he's not sure if that will ever go away.
Notes:
1. As many of you have guessed, this isn't 'Summer Harmony.' This isn't light and fluffy and boys finding love for the first time. It's going to get dark, and it's going to get messy, and I hope you'll stick with me as they work through this.
2. That being said, I hope I didn't scare you off, but thanks for all the wonderful feedback :)