Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me, just having fun in the sandbox.
Author Notes: At the end of June, I decided to set myself a challenge. And the challenge is simple, every day in the month of July, I will post a piece of fanfiction or a piece of fanart (which coincides with one of the pieces of writing) to my tumblr related to my Glee OTPs and World War II.
A Single Night, A Lifetime of Love
Columbus, Ohio, Present-Day
"Tell me again, Uncle Kurt, how you meet Uncle Sam. Please, tell us, tell us." The little boy pleaded.
Kurt rolled his eyes when he heard the snort of laughter drifting through the crack in the kitchen door. Even after fifty years, Stevie Evans still found it hilarious whenever one of the children called his older brother, Uncle Sam. The joke had been funny the first time, moan worthy the second, but after the third…it just kept getting worse and worse, well as far as Kurt was concerned.
Ruffling his great-nephew's blonde locks, Kurt patted the empty couch cushion next to him, watching as the little boy all but fell over himself in his effort to climb up on the sofa with the World War II veteran. Once the boy was settled, Kurt grabbed an old scrapbook, the book had seen better days, but the stories it told. Flipping through its well-worn pages, the veteran finally stopped on the page he was looking through. The old man ran his finger loving along one of the pictures, caressing the jaw of young man a camera had captured.
"It was late August of 1944, and the Allied forces had just liberated Paris with the help of the French resistance. The Allied forces had paused in Paris to regroup and reorganize the lines before continuing their advance to the Rhine."
Private First Class Kurt Hummel was not a happy man; especially know that he had mud in his shoes. If he was perfectly honest, he hadn't been happy before the mud or the marching that had caused the mud. Kurt Hummel hadn't been happy since before he had been drafted into the United States Army. But here he was in war-torn France and there was nothing that he could do about. Even if he hated the army, he should consider himself lucky that he had survived Operation Overlord, better know as D-Day. His company had left Paris two day ago, on their way to the Rhine; Kurt would have preferred to stay in Paris, but no dice.
Sighing to himself, Kurt found a place to sit not far from one of the fires, grateful for the falling evening. They had been marching on and off for the last 16 hours and all Kurt wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. In all honesty, Kurt could have gotten himself thrown out of the army, but he hadn't been willing to say those words. Because while it would have ended his chances of serving, it would have made him a social pariah and he wouldn't have wished that on his dad. The looks, the whispers, the comments wouldn't have bothered Kurt; but the young man wasn't going to force his dad endure all of it, just because Kurt had no desire to be in the army. But he was here now, and all he had to do was survive until the end of this blasted war, then he was going home and live life on his own terms.
"It's good that you are taking care of that now, most guys don't remember to keep their feet clean." A voice spoke, startling Kurt out of his head. Turning his head slightly, he gave the other man a side-eye before letting his eyes give the man the once over.
"Sorry, where are my manners. Corporal Samuel Evans." The sandy blonde said, sticking his hand out for Kurt to shake, which he did.
"Private First Class Kurt Hummel, sir."
"Loose the sir; I promise I won't tell anyone." Sam smiled, with a wink at Kurt.
The brunette blinked rapidly, not trusting his eyes for a moment, 'a commanding officer didn't just wink at me' Kurt thought, 'I'm not that obvious, am I?'
"Alright, sir." Kurt said once he found his voice. Sam raised his eyebrow at the title, causing Kurt to realize his mistake, "Sorry, si…" Kurt tried again at loosing the sir. "Sorry, once they grill it into your head, it's hard to loose it."
The soldier laughed at Kurt, who grinned sheepishly in reply. "I understand. So what's your story, Private First Class Hummel?"
"Draftee…plain and simple. Registered for the draft in June of '42 and was called up that next spring," Kurt explained. "And have loved every moment of it," he ended with a wide fake smile on his face.
"Don't lie, Private. But then again, the army isn't for everyone…am I right." Sam questioned, giving Kurt a little quirk of his eyebrow at the end of his question.
Kurt stared at the other man, not sure if he understood what he was being asked. Kurt knew he was young and green, especially when it came to innuendos being directed at him; he blamed it completely on where he was from—a small town in Ohio. As he looked at the enlisted man, Kurt thought about all the different things that could happen if Sam was asking if he was gay and Kurt answered truthfully…he could end up outing himself and be thrown from the army or he could end up outing himself and Sam was wanting to know if Kurt was like him. After a few minutes of thought, Kurt decided to ignore it and pretend it hadn't been asked.
"What about you? What's your story?" Kurt asked, changing the subject away from him.
"I enlisted in January, right after Pearl Harbor. My cousin, she was nurse stationed at Pearl Harbor and she didn't make it." Sam told the man, blinking his tears back. He couldn't afford to get emotional, no matter how much he had loved his older cousin and hated that she had to die in such a way. "I wanted to honor her, by serving in her memory. Honestly, I wanted to be sent to the Pacific, but wound up here instead. Not that I don't think Europe isn't swell and all."
Kurt grinned at Sam, glad that the blonde still managed to have a sense of humor after such a personal loss. The pair continued to talk, discussing everything from their families to their hometowns. As the evening wore on, Kurt was being infatuated with the Corporal, and as though Sam was reading his mind, the blonde asked.
"You never answered my question, Private."
"What question was that, sir?" Kurt replied, letting the sir fall from his lips. If Sam was going to address him by his rank, then Kurt was going to address him by his title.
Sam's brow shot up at the word, but chose not to comment. "Are you the type that belongs in the Army?"
"Are you?" Kurt countered, raising his brow in mimicry to Sam's.
Sam's eyes bore into Kurt's as the two men stared at each other, not wanting to give an inch in this silent war. Both wanted to answer the question, both were hoping that they hadn't been reading the singles wrong, but both were so scared of being wrong. Drawing in a breath, Sam held it for a moment, before letting it out.
"No." Sam answered, shaking his head.
Kurt grinned and chuckled at the other man, feeling so stupid for being so worried. "Neither am I."
And just like that Sam's face morphed from one of tension and worry to one of all smiles. Moving in closer to Kurt than he had been previously, he grasped the other man's hand tightly, all the while making sure that the same gesture was hidden from the prying eyes of others. Kurt squeezed the hand; it might not have been his first kiss, but it was the first time another man had held his hand, and it was here on this deserted stretch of road that Kurt felt so much promise in one hidden gesture of affection.
"What happened next, Uncle Kurt." Ethan asked while tugging on his great-uncle's shirt.
"Well the next morning, your Uncle and I went our separate ways." Kurt replied, grabbing the boy's hand in his own to stop the tugging.
"But then how are you and Uncle Sam together, now?" The small boy all but whined to the veteran.
"By a complete accident, I like to call that accident the Korean War." A male voice replied as its owner entered the family room. With a wink to his partner, he sat on the other side of his great-nephew. "But that is a story for another time. Off to the kitchen, go help your grandmother."
Ethan pouted at his great-Uncle but did as he told, scampering off the couch and through the kitchen door in a matter of seconds. Kurt smiled as he watched the boy go; then turned to his partner. Even after over fifty years, Sam was still as handsome as the day they met; his sandy blonde hair might have long since gone gray and the lines of his face might have deepened, but Kurt didn't care. It just showed that Sam had loved and laughed through life, a very long one with Kurt at his side.
Once the boy was gone, Sam shifted closer to his husband, allowing Kurt to lean his head on Sam's shoulder. Grasping Kurt's hand, Sam gave it squeeze before laying it on his thigh; Kurt returned the squeeze with one of his own. With one last glance at Sam, Kurt let his eyes flutter close as he listened to the sounds of the house drift over him. This was his home, the home he shared with Sam, and there was no place else, Kurt would rather be.
Accompanying Art: http:/ pics. livejournal. com/ lil_grl_lost /pic/ 0000ga6t