Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Warnings: AU for Glee (Kurt & Blaine never got together), AU for True Blood from Episode 1 X 10
No pairings for now, but I'm taking suggestions. Not sure if I want it to be Kurt/Blaine or a True Blood pairing like Kurt/Eric or something else. Lemme know if you have any suggestions.
Life or Something Like It
Life is just what happens to you,
While your busy making other plans.
-Beautiful Boy, John Lennon
Taking a road trip across the country to celebrate their high school graduation had been Blaine's idea. Kurt's idea of a vacation involved many things, none of which included rundown motels and death by way of clogged arteries due to extensive fast food consumption. If he had his way, they would be walking hand-in-hand down the Champs-Élysées instead of down a street in some backwater town in Louisiana that made Lima look like a booming metropolis.
"Tell me again why we're here in…what's the names of this town again?" Kurt asked; disdain dripping from his voice as he took in their motel room.
There was no way he was sleeping on those sheets because he was fairly certain that the large brown circle wasn't part of the pattern but a stain of some sort. Blaine had laughed at him for bringing his own sheets with them and said that he was being ridiculous, but that didn't stop the two boys from sharing a bed after discovering a rather questionable stain on the comforter of Blaine's bed in the first motel that they had stayed in.
Blaine flashed Kurt a wide grin and pushed his hot pink sunglasses up on his nose, his dark curls flying around his face as he did. "Bon Temps," he filled in helpfully. "And I told you—life experiences, dummy. I'm just going to change clothes, and we can grab something to eat. I still can't believe you're wearing layers, I'm practically soaking wet with sweat." He shook his head at Kurt in exasperation. "Seriously. Just looking at you is making me sweat."
"Fashion knows no season," Kurt said, his eyes sweeping across Blaine's current outfit of khakis cargo shorts and a t-shirt with a band Kurt had never heard of before on the front of it. Clearly Blaine wasn't of the same opinion.
He sighed as he watched Blaine duck into the bathroom. Life experiences. That was the same line he had used to get Kurt to agree to the trip in the first place.
"Have you ever just wanted to see what America had to offer?" he had asked Kurt one spring morning afternoon. They were curled up together on Kurt's bed watching some show on the Travel channel about a man that would put Finn's ability to eat the weirdest foods to shame.
Kurt had said yes because it was the truth, after all. Of course, when he imagined traveling around America, those trips were primarily centered around trips to New York or Los Angeles.
They went back to watching the show; or rather Blaine went back to the show while Kurt flipped through the latest issue of Vogue half asleep and getting closer to actual sleep every second.
"We should do it!" Blaine exclaimed a few minutes later. He sat up, his sudden motion jarring Kurt awake and nearly causing him to fall off the bed.
"Do what?" he asked, taking Blaine's outstretched hand and allowing him to pull him into an upright position.
"Go on a road trip this summer."
Blaine's excitement had been infectious, and before he had even realized what he was doing, he found himself agreeing. "Sure. Where to?"
Blaine just shrugged. "Who cares? Anywhere. Everywhere. We'll just pick a direction and drive. Wherever the wind blows us, that's where we'll go. Just think of the life experiences we'll gain. We'll be just like Jack Kerouac."
"Who's that?" Kurt asked dubiously.
Blaine's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Haven't you ever read On the Road?"
Kurt's admission that he had not, in fact, even heard of that book sent Blaine into some sort of near apoplectic fit wherein Kurt was practically pushed into his own car—and how do you like that?—driven to the local bookstore, and then forced to purchase a copy of said book.
Even after finishing the book, Kurt wasn't sure that a road trip which involved no set destination was a good idea, but Blaine had looked so hopeful and so excited that Kurt hadn't had the heart to turn him down.
They'd been on the road for three weeks—three weeks traveling south—and so far the only life experiences they had had was learning that Blaine was never ever allowed to do laundry unsupervised and that eating tacos from a stand on the side of the road in Arkansas—Blaine yet again—wasn't the smartest thing to do.
Still, small bouts of food poisoning and pink socks—which Blaine proudly wore—aside, the trip hadn't all been bad. It had actually been a lot of fun. Every time they came to a new town—and it was always some sort of small town which, quite frankly, was fairly worrisome as Kurt had no intention of ever living in a small town again—they would explore every nook and cranny of it, Kurt snapping picture after picture of not only Blaine but their surroundings as they did.
When they weren't exploring, Blaine would scribble song lyrics in one of his many composition books while Kurt either wrote about their day in his journal or wrote out postcards to send to his dad and his friends. Sometimes Blaine would pull out his guitar and the two would put on impromptu concerts. One time they even ended up making nearly a hundred dollars singing at a coffee shop that reminded Kurt strongly of the Lima Bean.
One of Blaine's favorite pastimes on the trip was spending time at the local hangouts in whatever town they happened to be in collecting the stories of those around him. With his effervescent personality and bright smile, Blaine made friends easily, and by the time they had arrived in Bon Temps, Louisiana, Blaine had over a dozen composition books devoted entirely to those stories.
At night, though, they would lay together in whatever rundown motel Blaine had chosen for them—every time Kurt expressed his displeasure, Blaine would ramble on about how the rooms had character, whatever that meant—and either talk for hours or watch reruns of cheesy sitcoms until they both fell asleep with their limbs tangled together.
So it might not have been the most glamorous of vacations, but Kurt was glad that he'd come. Of course the fact that he was spending every waking moment with the boy he was desperately in love with probably had a lot to do with it—even if said boy still didn't feel that way about him.
"Hey, you ready to go? I'm starving."
Startled, Kurt looked up to find Blaine standing in front of him. His hair was damp in an obvious attempt to tame it although it really was a lost cause due to the heat and humidity in the South.
He nodded, straightening his clothes as he stood. The difference between his outfit and Blaine's was that even though Kurt was wearing layers—and only one, really—he chose fabrics that were more permeable. Not to mention the fact that he had a tendency to be rather cold natured which was why he dressed in layers in the first place.
"I don't see how you can be hungry, though," he said as they left the room. "I watched you singlehandedly eat an entire family size bag of Doritos not even an hour ago. It was definitely not one of your finest moments."
Blaine patted his stomach with a laugh. "I'm a growing boy," he said. "Now, come on. I saw a little bar and grill up the road. Merlotte's or something. I would absolutely kill for a bacon cheeseburger right now."
Kurt rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics but dutifully followed him out to the Navigator. He tossed Blaine his keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Kurt had been driving the majority of the day and even the thought of driving was enough to make him feel nauseous.
Surprisingly, Merlotte's was a lot better than some of the places Blaine had dragged him to. Okay, so that was a bit of an exaggeration, but all things considered it could have been a lot worse. It was clean and the wait staff was friendly which made it automatically nicer than any of the places they had eaten at in Mississippi. The food left a lot to be desired, in Kurt's opinion, but Blaine seemed happy and that was enough for him.
They spent the better part of the night there, Blaine discussing the upcoming college football season with a couple of boys who had to be at least a handful of years older than them while Kurt watched on from their table, a fond expression on his face as Blaine's eyes lit up with excitement. Seeing Blaine like this, so carefree and happy and completely and unapologetically himself, made the trip worth it—even if he had to stay in a hundred more rundown motels and look at every piece of antique junk in America.
This Blaine—and Kurt felt fairly certain this was the real Blaine Anderson—was so different from the one he had known at Dalton. He was truly blossoming without the weight of his father's expectations on his shoulders. Just last night he had confessed his desire to write a novel instead of pursuing law like his father expected him to do. A year ago that would have not been possible.
"See, that wasn't too bad, was it?" Blaine asked him later as they got ready for bed.
"I suppose not," he allowed. "Everyone was very friendly."
"How about we go into Shreveport tomorrow? We could see what kind of shopping they have there. Plus, Jason, that's one of the guys I was talking to earlier, told me that there's an actual vampire bar there—can you believe it?—and I really think that we should check it out."
Kurt, like the rest of the world, had been thrown for a loop when the vampires had "come out of the coffin" two years ago, and to be honest, it still felt a little surreal to him. There weren't any vampires in Lima that he knew of, so the only thing he really knew about them was what he saw on TV and what he heard people saying about them.
Not that he gave any credit to the things he heard people in Lima saying. He certainly didn't feel the way some people in Lima did—Principal Figgins, he knew, was a member of the Fellowship of the Sun church as were a number of other people in Lima, including the Fabrays—if anything, he empathized with them because they were just like him in that they wanted to enjoy the same rights that other Americans enjoyed.
And while he wasn't as fascinated by them like some of his friends, Tina for example, were, he definitely wasn't going to turn down a chance to see one for himself.
Besides, what was the worst thing that could happen?