Hey, guys! Thought I'd try my hand at writing some actual Klaine stuff because I've kinda been screwing you over in that department with DT. OoOOoOps! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee!
It started with a phone call.
"Hummel Tires and Lube, Kurt Hummel speaking."
"Uh, hi, uhm, my car it's ah, it's making weird sounds and it sounds like it's screaming at me and I don't really know what I did and I'm kind of lost right now, but do you guys take drop ins or do I have to book an appointment? I've never had to take it in before so I'm not really sure how this works."
"That's fine. Usually we'd appreciate if you call to make an appointment, but we're a little slow today so if you want to bring it over we can take a look at it now."
"Oh my god you are a life saver, thank you."
"You're welcome. Can I take your name please?"
"Blaine. Blaine Anderson."
"Alright, Mr. Anderson, we'll see you soon."
"Umm… how do I get there?"
"Your car is still mobile, right?"
"Then I'd assume you would drive it."
"Oh, no. I mean, I'm not really from here. I live in Westerville but I was out here for a…competition and I'm afraid I don't know the area."
"Alright, where are you now?"
"Ummm… I'm by a really big tree?"
"There's a park? With a swing set?"
"Are there kids there?"
"Yeah! Does that help?"
"Yes. It definitely establishes that you're in a park."
"Oh, good! Are there a lot of parks in Lema?"
"Lima. And there are a couple."
"But do they all have big trees? Because this one is huge. Oh, there's a really big rock too. Or a boulder."
"Well, which is it, a rock or a boulder?"
"Umm… a rock boulder? It kind of looks like a duck."
"Oh, okay. I know where you are."
"Surprisingly yes. Are you in your car now?"
"You need to get out of your car and walk over to the rock."
"Okay, hold on."
"Are you there?"
"Alright. Now I want you to stand on the rock and look at the sun, are you doing that?"
"Hold on, it's a really big rock."
"Okay, I'm on the rock."
"Looking at the sun?"
"There's a street to your left, do you see it?"
"There's a yellow line in the middle of it, you're going to want to stay to the right of that."
"No, when you're in your car."
"Good. Drive down the road so that the sun's on your left and keep going until you see a grocery store with a big yellow barn outside of it. Turn right at the barn and drive until you see a sign that says 'Hummel Tires and Lube', then turn left into it."
"Oh, that sounds pretty easy."
"Sweet, I'll be there soon."
"I'll make sure we have a spot for you."
"Awesome, thank you."
"Goodbye, Mr. Anderson."
"Why did I have to stand on the rock for this?"
It continued with a meeting.
"Welcome to Hummel Tires and Lube, how can I help you?"
"My name's Blaine Anderson, I believe I spoke with you on the phone."
Kurt looked up from where he had been doodling on his sketchpad. Before him stood a boy around his own age. His hair was so thick with gel that the florescent lights of the garage seemed to bounce off it, making the room feel brighter than it had before. His sparkling eyes matched his sparkling smile, and he reeked of enthusiasm. Kurt sighed as he straightened his back, stretching with a groan until his back popped. Karofsky had been sending his goons to the garage to harass Kurt for the past two weeks, and as cute as this boy was, he wasn't going to let his guard down.
"I parked my car outside, I didn't know if I should drive right in or not but I thought that might be rude, and I'm not too sure about garage etiquette so I decided I'd ask first."
"I'll drive it."
Kurt walked over to the boy and held out his hand for the keys. Blaine's smile grew wide as he reached out with his own hand to grab Kurt's, shaking it firmly.
"Your keys," Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes. Blaine's smile fell.
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Blaine handed Kurt his keys and followed Kurt out to his car.
"What did you say the problem was again?"
"It's making a really weird noise when I start it, like EEEEEEEEEE! But really loud and really shrill."
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, what kind of noise?"
"It sounds like EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"One more time."
"EEEEEEEEE, but like, a bit higher pitched."
"Can you hold it just a bit longer for me?"
Blaine took a deep breath.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEE – you're making fun of me, aren't you?"
Kurt flashed Blaine a smile.
Blaine smiled back.
The first meeting ended with an apology.
"Alright, I'm all done."
"What was it?"
"It was your fan belt. It was catching and shredding, so I replaced it for you. And your oil was way overdue, your fluids were drained, your breaks were almost non-existent, and your left headlight doesn't work."
"Oh, okay. How much do I owe you?"
Kurt slid him a sheet of paper.
"Oh. Oh wow, okay. Hold on, let me just grab my…uh, my…"
"Let me guess, you 'forgot' your wallet."
Blaine smiled sheepishly as continued to pat down each pocket he had.
"I didn't forget it, I just can't find it."
"I think I left it at the grocery store."
"No, really." Blaine ran over to his car and opened the trunk, returning a moment later with something orange. "I got you this."
"I got you a yam."
"What on earth possessed you to buy a single yam, and why do you feel compelled to give it to me. I'm not going to wave the fee because you bought me a yam, Mr. Anderson." Kurt crossed his arms angrily as Blaine blushed profusely.
"I was following your directions and I saw the grocery store, and I stopped to go inside because I wasn't really sure if you gave me right directions or if you were making fun of me, and I went in and they said you were right and I was about to leave when I saw this yam and it looked like a duck, which made me think of the rock duck so I thought that'd be kind of funny if I got you the yam as an apology for being such an idiot on the phone, but I guess I left my wallet there? I could go get it and be back in like fifteen minutes?"
Kurt stared at Blaine long and hard. He'd been harassed at work before, but never had he been stiffed out of the money he was owed. He needed that money. His dad needed that money. And this was all just a joke to them.
"An apology yam? Seriously? You thought that an apology yam would make you look less like an idiot?"
Blaine turned beet red and ducked his head.
"It sounded good at the time," he mumbled in embarrassment as Kurt stood fuming.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself before turning back to Blaine. "This is my job. Do you understand that? This is my job. I work here, I don't have time to play stupid games with you or any of your friends. I don't know what I did to personally offend you, but you tell Karofsky to back off. You want to harass me at school? Fine. Anywhere else? Stop. Just stop. I don't have time for this."
"I'm sorry, I don't know anyone named Karofs – "
"For someone as stupid as you are you're really bad at playing the idiot."
Blaine's face dropped. His sparkling eyes became watery, and his whole body seemed to deflate at Kurt's words. He looked devastated.
Kurt turned away and walked back to his desk. If he hadn't known any better, he might have thought the boy was actually crying. He looked genuinely upset at Kurt's words, but Kurt ignored him.
"I'm really sorry," the boy whispered, "I'll pay you, I just need to go back and get my – "
"Just – just get out," Kurt said, running his hand through his hair. He didn't look up when he heard the door close.
And more than a few hurt feelings.
The next day when his father asked him why someone had left a box of cash and a yam outside their shop, he pretended not to know.
The second meeting was a coincidence.
"Oh dear god please not you."
"Are you okay?"
Kurt glared up at Blaine from his spot on the bathroom floor.
"What are you doing here?"
"I had to pee. Why are you on the floor?" Kurt shook his head, but Blaine stopped him. "Nuh-uh. You asked a question and I answered it, so now I get to ask one and you have to answer it. That's how it works."
"We're not playing twenty questions."
"You're right. We're playing two, so I think that's more than fair, unless you want me to go grab one of the girls you came here with. Maybe I'll ask the loud one, or your African-American friend…" Blaine stared at him with a half-smile, and Kurt couldn't help but scoff at him.
"Really? You can't say 'my black friend'?"
Blaine shifted uncomfortably.
"Contrary to what you seem to believe, I really don't like doing or saying anything that might offend anyone."
"And how is that working for you so far?" Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes. The other boy bit his lip, smiled tightly, and nodded.
"Be right back," he said, opening the door. "Excuse me? Hi! Excuse me! Are you one of Mr. Hummel's friends?"
"Oh my god, Blaine, don't you dare."
"No? Oh sorry, my mistake. Listen, can you do me a favour?"
"Stop it now."
"If you see one of them – "
"I'm serious. I will cut you."
" – can you tell them that he's in the bathroom and he needs them now?"
"I will hurt you, prep school."
"Yeah, tell them he's in the bathroom. Crying."
Kurt leapt up.
"I swear I will end you, Anderson. I am not crying in the bathroom, so don't you dare go and tell – " Kurt cut himself off as he pushed Blaine out of his way and stared into the empty hallway. "There's no one there."
"That doesn't mean I won't go find someone if you don't tell me why you're hiding in the bathroom, and this time I'll open with you crying in the bathroom."
"I'm not crying in the bathroom!"
"I wasn't crying in the bathroom."
"Mhm." Blaine cocked his head at Kurt and looked at him sympathetically. "It's okay to cry, Kurt."
"Now I'm definitely not telling you anything."
Blaine pouted and flopped down against the door.
"Move. I need to get out of here."
"I can't move. I'm too sad."
"You are impossible. Move."
"You're being mean."
"Better, but I don't feel like I've helped you at all." Kurt sighed.
"Why do you need to help me."
"Because you helped me."
"I fixed your car, Blaine. It's my job. I just did my job." He glared down at the boy, but Blaine wasn't looking at him. His face was blank and he was staring at the wall behind Kurt. Kurt turned around to look, but there was nothing there. "Hello, anyone in there?"
Blaine jumped a little and smiled up at Kurt.
"Ready to share yet?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, but slid down the wall across from Blaine.
"I really shouldn't be telling you this because you're competition and everything," he nodded to Blaine's Dalton uniform, "but I'm afraid that if I don't tell you you'll kidnap me and lock me in a basement or something until I do."
"Hmm." Kurt drifted off. "This is my first solo." Blaine jumped forward and clapped Kurt heartily on his knee.
"Congratulations," he screeched.
"Uh, thank you."
"So you're hiding because you have a solo?"
"I'm hiding because I'm nervous." Blaine frowned.
"Wait, you're nervous?"
"Why is that so difficult to believe? Yes, I'm nervous, happy?" He glared at Blaine again, but the other boy just shook his head in disbelief.
"Nope," he said, "you must be mistaken. You're not nervous."
"I think I know when I'm nervous, and trust me, I am."
"Nope. That's impossible."
"And how would you know that?"
"I just do." Blaine grinned at Kurt. "You're up against me, Kurt. Remember? The guy who made an absolute idiot of himself in a public park standing on a rock to get directions to a garage? The guy who brought you a yam? The guy who stood outside your shop making 'EEEEEEEEE' noises over and over and over again when clearly, you didn't actually need to hear it."
Kurt couldn't help but snort at that.
"It doesn't mean you're not good."
"Yeah, but I did look pretty stupid."
"You really did."
"So just think about that when you're onstage. You'll do fine. After all, you're up against the biggest idiot in the world."
Kurt bit his lip, avoiding eye contact with Blaine.
"I'm really sorry I said that to you," he whispered. Blaine grinned and stood up.
"Don't worry about it, Kurt." He held out his hand to the boy and helped pull him up. "Now, are you ready to try and kick my ass, Mr. Hummel?"
"Bring it on, Mr. Anderson."
The third meeting was less coincidence, but more conspicuous.
"Mr. Anderson, I'm surprised that you're willing to show your face in public after how badly we mopped the floor with you."
Blaine smirked and held up his keys.
"At least we went down fighting a worthy adversary," he said with a bow as Kurt took the keys from him.
"What kind of sound is it making this time?"
"Oh, it's not a sound. I just needed to get wiper fluid."
"You can buy that at the gas station."
"Yeah, I know…but…"
"What did you put in it."
Kurt marched out to Blaine's car. Turning it on, he tested it, groaning when the liquid that came out coated the windshield in a layer of soapy bubbles. Turning off the car, he got out and smelled the windshield before shooting a look at a very nervous looking Blaine.
"You did not seriously put dish soap in your car."
Blaine grinned sheepishly.
"I thought it was Windex."
Kurt gaped at him.
"Why couldn't you just use washer fluid like everyone else on the planet?"
"I couldn't find any! I asked Jeeves and he said it would be okay, but I think he lied to me."
Kurt took a deep breath and dropped his face into both of his hands.
"I'm charging you overtime for this, Mr. Anderson."
"Okay," Blaine agreed happily. "Can I help?"
"Just…just sit over there and don't touch anything, and I'll see what I can do to fix…this."
The fourth, fifth, and sixth meetings went much the same way.
"Blaine Anderson! For the last time, what have I told you about putting things into your car that are not approved for automotive use. You cannot substitute coolant with slushies. I swear I don't even know how you still have a car."
Blaine shrugged as he swung his dangling legs off the side of his chair. Kurt had given it to him on their fourth meeting as a joke when Blaine had brought his car in because it 'made a really loud squealing pig noise when I went around a corner really fast, so I tried it again a few times just to make sure I wasn't hearing things and now it won't stop', and Kurt even fashioned a 'reserved for Blaine Anderson' sign when Blaine had come in no less than five days later claiming, 'I thought it was just a really big puddle. I didn't even know we had lakes in Ohio'.
"I don't know. I guess I'm just really not all that good with this technology stuff."
"It's called common sense, Blaine."
"I'm not too good with that either."
Their seventh meeting wasn't a meeting.
"Oh Kurt! You'll never guess what I was stupid enough to do! Accidentally, of course."
"Kurt ain't here, kid."
Blaine jumped as an older, larger, bigger, stronger man who was definitely not Kurt stepped out of Kurt's usual space.
"Ah, I see. Is he coming in today?"
"Oh, okay. Well, ah, I guess I'll just be, um, going now."
"You tellin' me you came in here just to tell Kurt about somethin' stupid you did?"
"Well, ah, you see, uh – "
Burt stared Blaine down, watching as the boy squirmed uncomfortably. He was turning redder by the second, and for a moment Burt was almost afraid he was going to pass out.
"I know who you are," he said slowly, watching as Blaine's eyes grew wide. The boy smiled nervously.
"Oh, um yes, sorry. I'm – "
"Blaine Anderson, I know. You're the car idiot Kurt's been tellin' me about."
"Uh, yes, that would be me. You must be Mr. Hummel." Blaine stuck out his hand to Burt, but the older man ignored it.
"What're you doing."
"I, uh, I'm sorry?"
"I said, what're you doing. With Kurt. What are you trying to pull." Blaine looked at Burt, confusion clearly written on his face.
"I don't – I'm not trying to pull anything, sir," he said quietly. "Does Kurt think that I am?"
Burt shook his head.
"He did when you first came in. He didn't say anythin', but I found a box with a yam and money in it outside my shop and he seemed pretty upset about that but he wouldn't say nothin' about it. You've been comin' in here with strange things for a few weeks now an' I know I'm not the smartest person in the world, but I can put two an' two together. He doesn't think that anyone would wreck their own stuff just to pull a prank on someone, but I'm not that sure."
"I swear, sir, I'm not trying to pull anything or – "
"Save it, kid. I know what you're up to."
Blaine gulped, but shook his head violently.
"No, sir. I'm not up to anyth – "
"He likes roses. Says they're cheesy and pointless but he still likes 'em. An' musicals. He likes those, too."
"Oh, uhm, I'm not – "
"He'll be back from New York on Thursday. I think that 'Rent' or 'Rooms' show is on until the Saturday after that."
"Uh, thank you, Mr. Hu – "
"Don't, kid. Don't mention this. Ever."
"Okay, I won't, but um, thanks for not yelling at me or anything."
"I meant it when I said don't mention it, kid."
"Goodbye, Mr. Anderson."
"Goodbye. Oh! Wait, Mr. Hummel?"
Burt turned and looked at Blaine, who was shuffling awkwardly where he stood.
"Um, this is really embarrassing, but I kind of do need help with my car."
"Should I ask?"
Their first date was awkward, to say the least.
"I'm really sorry, Kurt."
"No, no. It's fine, Blaine. I just didn't realize that you thought this was a date."
"I am so sorry."
"Really, don't worry about it, Blaine. I'd just rather we put this whole thing behind us."
"I'm so embarrassed right now."
"I'm not surprised. Just curious though, how do you even get flowers delivered to a member of an audience during a show? I had no idea you could even do that."
"They were supposed to come in after it was over, I swear. I don't know why the theatre let them in during the act."
"I'm equal parts embarrassed and impressed."
"Wait – I impressed you?"
"You didn't. Their ability to enter during the act is what impresses me. Not that I'd ever leave during a show, but it's nice to know that if nature calls there are ways of sneaking back in."
"I take it there's not going to be a second date?"
"Blaine Anderson, for us to have a second date you would need to ask me out for the first."
They walked in silence towards Blaine's car.
"Well," Kurt asked when they reached it.
"Are you going to ask me out?"
Blaine gaped at him.
"After that? You want me to ask you out after that literally just happened? Are you serious, or are you asking me to ask you out so that you can make fun of me on Monday when I bring my car back again."
"Do you seriously have your visits scheduled in advance?"
"Ugh, fine. But only for you." Kurt moved forward so that he was directly in front of Blaine before he dropped to one knee. "Blaine Anderson, will you go out with me?"
Blaine brought his hands up to his face and smiled down at Kurt. He stared, smiling behind his hands for a few moments before Kurt gestured for him to answer.
"Oh, right! Yes, yes I will!"
Meeting the parents wasn't as awkward as they thought it would be.
"Dad, this is Blaine. Blaine, meet my father Burt and my father's girlfriend, Carole."
"Hello, sir, ma'am, it's wonderful to meet you."
"Oh, Blaine, I've heard so much about you. It's so wonderful to finally meet you," Carole cooed as she leaned forward to embrace Blaine.
"It's wonderful to meet you too," he said before turning to Burt hesitantly.
"It's uh, nice to meet you, I guess," Burt grunted, earning him a light smack from Kurt.
"Dad, be nice," he hissed. Blaine smiled and nodded at Burt. The older man simply nodded back.
"These are my parents, Ivan and Mary-Anne Anderson."
Blaine's mother stepped forward and placed both of her hands on Kurt's shoulders.
"We've heard so much about you, Kurt. You've done such amazing things for our boy, I don't think that I'll ever be able to thank you enough."
Kurt smiled politely at her as she drew him in for a long, tight hug. Kurt shot Blaine a look.
'What's she talking about?'
Their first apartment was small.
"Oh my god, Blaine. I don't think this couch is even going to fit through the door."
"Kurt, just because the apartment is small doesn't mean that the door frames here are any smaller than the door frames at home."
"Ugh, but it feels like it," Kurt grunted as he pushed the couch forward.
"Woah," Blaine called out as Kurt pushed a little too hard, the couch knocking him off balance as it finally made it through the door.
"Oh my gosh. Blaine, are you okay?"
Blaine laughed from his spot on the floor as Kurt ran over to him. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a light kiss.
"I'm more than okay," he whispered.
"Be careful with this shirt, Blaine. This one's going to be part of my fall fashion line."
"Why are you wearing it while we're moving?"
Kurt slapped his chest lightly before stealing another kiss.
"Because every day is an excuse for fashion, Mr. Anderson."
Time passed, but some things stayed the same.
"I broke the car."
"Can you take a look at it for me?"
Kurt stormed down the stairs of their two story home. New York had been wonderful, but Kurt had found that he missed his father too much to stay away. When one of his co-workers mentioned she wanted to start up a fashion magazine in Cleveland, Kurt couldn't say no. Blaine had applied for a position with the school board there, and when the transfer was accepted they moved.
"What on earth did you do to it, Mr. Anderson? I swear, if you wreck this car I'm selling your piano to buy a new one."
"I don't think I broke it, just come here."
Kurt huffed his way out to the garage, shivering as the cold hit him.
"What's it doing," he asked impatiently.
"I dunno. The back tail pipe thingy is making weird sounds, like something's blocking it."
"Did you check to see if there was something in it?"
"Do you really want me fixing our car?"
"Touché." Kurt grunted as he knelt down, groaning as he prepared to stick his fingers inside. "You owe me for this, Anderson," he muttered as his fingers wrapped around whatever it was that was clogging it. Pulling it out, he gasped and turned to face Blaine.
Blaine, his beautiful, sweet, stupid boyfriend, kneeling beside him with a big, beautiful, sweet, stupid smile. He wrapped his hands around Kurt's and gently pulled the lid of the box open.
"Kurt, will you marry me?"
"Of course I will, you idiot."
They were married in the Spring. Legally. In Ohio.
"I know pronounce you man and man, you may kiss."
"Eww," Called out Vanessa, Finn and Rachel's daughter as Kurt and Blaine shared a passionate kiss. Rachel shushed the girl as Burt laughed and pulled his granddaughter into his lap. The two laughed and broke apart from each other.
"I'm really glad it was you," Blaine muttered, pressing his forehead against Kurt's.
"I'm really glad you're horrible with cars."
Blaine just smiled at his husband.
Adoption was difficult, but well worth the wait.
"Daddy, Papa, watch this!"
"No, watch this!"
Blaine groaned into Kurt's shoulder as the twins took turns seeing who could jump off the higher stair.
"Jason and Alexander, come down here, please," Kurt called, rubbing Blaine's shoulder.
"Kurt they're going to fall and hurt themselves and we're going to be the worst parents in existence and people will judge us and it will be so bad."
"Blaine, we'll be fine. They're still alive."
"Yes," Blaine called back from his place in Kurt's shoulder.
"Look how high I can go!"
"Don't you jump from there, Alexander. I'm warning you."
"I'm counting to three."
"Let's go at the same time!"
"Two... don't you boys make me get to three!"
Blaine flinched and turned to run up the stairs, effectively stopping the boys from jumping.
"Come on you crazy monkeys, why don't we go read or something," he said as he hooked an arm around each of their waists and hoisted them up over his shoulder, carrying them up the stairs.
"Aww, I don't wanna read."
"Papa, tell Daddy we don't wanna read."
Kurt shook his head.
"Nope. You wouldn't listen, now you have to read."
"Aww," they groaned as Blaine put them down again. Turning around, Blaine watched as Kurt winked at him and waved.
"Have fun with them," he sung as he began to walk away.
"Wait, you're not going to help?"
"You're doing fine, Blaine. You can do this."
Blaine smiled nervously and followed the boys to their room.
To anyone who asked, they said it started with a phone call…
"Grandpa Kurt, how did you and Grandpa Blaine meet?" Alicia asked from her mother's lap. Jason laughed and ruffled her hair fondly while Alexander and his girlfriend sat on the couch next to them. Kurt laughed and smiled fondly at Blaine.
"Your Grandpa Blaine wasn't much of a handyman when he was younger – not to say he's any better now. He would do the silliest things to his car and bring it in to the garage where I worked to get me to try and fix it."
"He fixed it every time," Blaine said with a grin, stroking his husband's hand.
"He drove it two hours there and two hours home just to see me," he said. "You were lucky you still had a car."
"It was worth it though. It got you to notice me."
"But why," Alicia asked.
"Sorry, sweetie, why what?"
"Why didn't you go get your car fixed where you lived? Why did you go all the way down to where Grandpa Kurt was?"
"Well," Kurt started, but Blaine cut him off.
"Because I wanted to meet the man who saved my life."
…but it didn't.
"Blaine, sweetheart, please. It's been weeks. Are you sure you don't want to let your friends come and see you?"
Blaine shook his head, refusing to speak as his mother stroked what was left of his hair gently.
"Blaine," his father said as he entered the room, "your mother and I are worried about you."
"You should be," Blaine whispered.
"I know what happened was horrible, son, and I know that no matter what I'll never know what you're feeling, but you need to try. You need to try to get through this – let this help make you stronger, make you a better person."
"I almost died for just being me," Blaine sobbed, rolling onto his back to take some of the pressure off of his ribs.
"I know, baby, I know," his mother cooed, pulling him in for a gentle hug.
"Can you leave me alone, please," he begged.
"Alright, baby. But if you need anything we're right outside your door. You just ring the bell, okay? We'll be right here, baby." She kissed his forehead and followed his father out of the room. As soon as the door was closed Blaine broke down.
Maybe those guys had been right. Maybe if he hadn't been so proud of his sexuality. Maybe if he'd tried to be straight he would be.
With great effort, Blaine reached over to the table beside him and opened his laptop.
'What did straight guys like?'
Blaine opened YouTube on his laptop and typed in 'hot cheerleaders' into the search. Scrolling through the results, he found a video of a high school cheer leading competition and clicked it.
He was sure the girls were hot, but as much as he tried, he couldn't get into it. Blaine clicked the attached video for the nationals competition, and what he saw made his heart stop.
The most beautiful boy he had ever seen was on center stage, singing with the most perfect voice that Blaine had ever heard in flawless French. Was this an exchange group? Blaine clicked the next video. And the next. And the next. And the next.
Blaine spent the rest of the day watching and re-watching all of the videos that featured the boy he soon discovered to be 'Kurt Hummel'. The boy was gorgeous and perfect and out and proud of who he was. Blaine found himself left in complete awe as the boy appeared in some of the most elaborate costumes he had ever seen. When Blaine finally clicked on 'Le Jazz Hot' he was left in tears.
This boy was gay. This boy was proud. This boy was not afraid.
For weeks, Blaine watched the videos. He downloaded the audio onto his iPod and listened to it during his physiotherapy.
Blaine knew it was creepy, but it made him feel stronger, it made him feel safe.
Kurt Hummel made Blaine feel like it was finally okay to be himself, because he finally knew that he wasn`t alone. Kurt gave him the strength to try, because `if Kurt Hummel can wear a corset in public you can smile at your roommate'.
'If Kurt Hummel can get an entire football team to dance to Beyonce, you can audition for the Warblers'.
'If Kurt Hummel can wear ten inch heels, you can tell your friends you're gay.'
And two years later when Blaine Anderson found himself in Lima, Ohio buying his first car, the man who sold it to him gave him a warning.
"It's a real fixer-upper, kid. You sure you can handle it?"
"I'm positive, sir. My father's been teaching me about cars for a couple of years now. I know enough of the basics to keep it running."
"Alright, well if you're sure. I haven't gotten it checked out for a while now, but when I did I always took it to Hummel's. Those guys there know their stuff."
"I'm sorry," Blaine asked, his heart skipping a beat, "did you just say Hummel?"
"Yep. Burt an' Kurt Hummel. The old man's a genius when it comes to cars. His kid's a little fruity, but no one can say he don't know his stuff."
"Thank you, sir. I might check that out. Do you still have their number?"
Five minutes later Blaine pulled over to the side of the road near the park he had frequented with his parents as a child. He opened his hood and pulled out his pocket knife. As he began to carefully shred the belt,
Blaine Anderson made a phone call.