Title: Gaily We Promenade (2/4)
Author: Caroline-Shea
Rating: PG-13 (this part) for language, brief sexual imagery
Word Count: ~7,000 this chapter; ~13,500 total so far (And we haven't even gotten to the blasted prom yet. *sobs* Whyyy?)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine; various canon pairings
Summary: Kurt fights for the right to take Blaine to the prom.
A/N: Er, so apparently my chapters started breeding when I wasn’t looking? And there is a severe lack of actual Klaine in this chapter, so for that I apologize. It was Kurt’s fault, though - he was super-chatty and he insisted on talking to basically everyone he’s ever met. You guys know how he gets, right? Nobody can control him when he’s in one of his moods. I promise that chapter three will be PROM. ALL PROM. And then chapter four will be PORN. ALL PORN.
One Week Out
“…and it’s like - it’s kind of hard to describe. It’s turquoise blue, but then it has a sheer black overlay so it makes the blue more muted”-
“Mine’s white, but it’s not like white-white. It’s sort of a shimmery iridescent fabric, and then it has an asymmetrical hemline with this little ruffle at the bottom”-
“Oh, wow, that sounds gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Tina! My dads helped me pick it out.”
That’s about as much of the conversation as Kurt catches before Rachel, Mercedes, and Tina see him enter the choir room and abruptly end the conversation, exchanging guilty looks.
Kurt groans. “Guys, stop. Come on, you’ve been doing this all week. You can talk about the prom, okay?”
“But it’s just”-
“We don’t want to make you feel”-
“I’m fine,” he tells them. “Look, I’m trying to strike a delicate balance here - staying optimistic and hopeful while resigning myself to the fact that it might not happen. You’ve all been incredible the last few weeks, and it’s just making me feel worse when everyone looks at me like I’m going to start throwing things at them.”
Rachel fidgets uncomfortably. “But”-
“Now you’re just being obtuse,” says Kurt, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, Rachel, you’ve known me how long? Am I the sort of person who says things I don’t mean just to spare people’s feelings?”
“No, you are not,” answers Rachel emphatically.
“Exactly. Besides which, have you ever known me to stand in the way of a conversation about ladies’ fashion? I’m already annoyed enough that Mercedes didn’t take me prom dress shopping due to a misguided sense of loyalty,” he says, glaring at her.
Mercedes glares right back. “Well, pardon me for trying to be sensitive. I thought it might upset you.”
“You are un-pardoned, my friend. Prom dress shopping. Without me. Unacceptable.”
“I’ll tell you all about my dress after glee?” wheedles Mercedes. Kurt raises an eyebrow, nonplussed. “And I’ll let you have input on both make-up and hairstyle?” Kurt’s expression wavers and - sensing weakness - Mercedes goes in for the kill. “Maybe we can discuss it over manicures at the Azur Salon?”
Kurt gasps. “Oh, now you’re just playing dirty.”
Mercedes nods proudly. “I know all your weak spots, Hummel. Sold?”
"Sold.”
“Kurt?” pipes up Brittany suddenly from across the room.
“Yeah?"
“What are you going to wear to prom if they let you guys go?”
Kurt opens his mouth to tell the girls all about the fabulous tuxedo he’d selected (midnight-blue with silver accents) when-
“He’s not going to prom, Brittany. There’s no way they let him. No one wants to see an eleven-year-old milkmaid dancing with a freaking hobbit.”
Kurt narrows his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Santana. I guess I don’t need to ask why you’ve been the least helpful glee club member with regard to my prom crusade?”
Santana shrugs. “I’m not kidding, Hummel. No one wants to see two dudes grinding all over each other. With a hot couple like Brittany and me, this ‘crusade’ might stand a chance, but”-
“You and me?” Brittany’s voice is soft, but there’s no mistaking the slight quaver in her voice.
Santana glares at Brittany angrily, looking as though she’s regretting her word choice. “I’m saying if we were a couple. Which we’re totally not, okay?”
Brittany nods. “I… I know. But - I still don’t have a date for prom, Santana. Please help us with Kurt and Blaine. And if they let them go, then - then maybe we can go together. Just as friends, I promise.”
Santana rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Brit. Don’t come crying to me that you don’t have a date. You could go with practically anyone.”
The look in Brittany’s eyes makes Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. “Please, Santana? I don’t want to go with anyone. I want to go with you.”
Santana jerks herself out of her seat swiftly, swinging her purse over her arm. “Get over it, Brittany. I’m not going to the prom with you.” Her chest is heaving slightly. “In fact, I’m not going to the stupid prom at all.”
And having said her piece, she spins around on her heel, the pleats of her Cheerios skirt flouncing defiantly around her as she storms out of the choir room.
There are a few seconds of seconds, broken by an audible sniff. Kurt looks up to see Brittany hunched over, rubbing weakly at her red-rimmed eyes. Quinn immediately begins soothing Brittany, smoothing her hair and whispering words of sympathy.
As for Kurt? He has other plans.
“Kurt?” asks Mercedes, alarmed. “What are you doing? Are you actually dumb enough to try going after her when she’s like this?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” he replies airily, striding toward the door. “Is that okay with you, Brittany?”
She nods slowly. “Kurt?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best ex-boyfriend ever.”
“Thanks, Brittany. I think it’s safe to say you’ll always be my favorite ex-girlfriend.”
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Kurt hears her before he can see her. There can’t be anyone else loudly throwing objects into a locker on a Friday after school. He rounds the corner - and sure enough, there she is, rifling through the contents of her locker, two angry spots of color visible on her cheekbones.
“Hi, Santana,” he says coolly as he approaches her.
“What do you want, Hummel?” she hisses.
Kurt leans against the locker next to hers. “You and I need to have a little chat.”
She throws him a mocking smile. “Girl to girl?”
He keeps his gaze level. “Sure.”
Santana seems annoyed that he hadn’t risen to her bait. “Fine. What do we need to chat about?”
“I think you know.”
“Actually, I don’t. I have no clue why the hell you’re hovering over me - like an annoying little fairy.”
Kurt has to fight back a smile. Really? She thinks this will get to him? “I’m here,” he says carefully, “because I care about my friends.”
“Brittany doesn’t need you to stick up for her, Hummel.”
“I wasn’t talking about Brittany.”
Santana narrows her eyes. “What?”
“Come on, Santana,” says Kurt. “The only person in this school who does the ‘bitch act’ as well as you? Is me. I can see right through it - because I know exactly what it is and where it comes from. So spill.”
“Spill what?” she asks, but there’s less venom in her voice now.
“I want to know what happened between you and Brittany.”
Santana looks up at him, and her expression is almost fearful now. “You won’t tell her about this?”
Kurt sighs. “To be honest, I’m hoping I can convince you to talk to her. But no. I won’t tell her anything you don’t want me to.”
Santana presses her lips together in a thin line and looks away from Kurt, not meeting his eyes. “I’m doing this for her. Okay?”
“You’re treating her horribly for her own good?”
She sets her jaw firmly. “Yes.”
“And you’re treating me horribly because…?”
“…because it makes me feel better, I guess? I don’t know. I kind of hate that you’re all happy with your boy-toy.”
He rolls his eyes. “Very mature, Santana.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? But I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be a big lesbo and I didn’t ask to fall in love with her”-
“Believe me; I get it. You didn’t sign up for this and neither did I. But you know what? It happened. We’re gay. Get over it. God, is that what this is about? You’re still in the midst of a big gay crisis? News flash: Everyone at this school knows, Santana.”
“Yeah, everyone at this school knows,” she hisses angrily. “But not the rest of the world.”
“Santana”-
“Not my parents,” she says meaningfully.
Kurt blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” she says. “And I just - look, I really didn’t think she’d get into college, okay? I mean, call me a bitch if you want, but I just didn’t. And I thought - I don’t know, I guess I thought we could be together in Ohio. She could get a job and live with me off-campus. Or maybe she’d go to community college or... whatever.”
“But…”
“But then she freaking got into college in North Carolina? I mean… North Carolina, Kurt. Ohio’s bad enough. Do you know how much shit we’d get there? Two gay freshmen who don’t know anyone? I mean, things were bad here when Brittany and I came out, and everyone at McKinley knows I’m a vicious bitch. And what in the world would I say to my parents? I want to go to some random university down south because ‘my friend’ is going there? I’d have to explain about Brittany and I - and they’d never understand.”
“Well, you could try the long-distance thing…”
Santana practically snarls at him. “Are you crazy?”
“Well, Blaine and I are”-
“This is about her safety, moron. She’d show up to this college - and she’s absolutely gorgeous so she’d get asked out, like, a million times the first week - and she’d say, ‘No, I have a girlfriend’ and - and I wouldn’t fucking be there to protect her. People would call her names and say shit to her; you know they would. And she’d be really lucky if that’s the worst thing that happens to her. And it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“What do you…?”
“Brittany doesn’t even like girls all that much. I’ve accepted that I’m pretty damn gay, but I’m it for Brittany as far as chicks go. If she’s not with me, she’ll pass for straight. She’ll get a boyfriend and - and then, you know, whatever. She’ll be happy.”
“No, she won’t. She’ll be miserable. And you know why? Because she’s in love with you, Santana. And the thing I don’t get is… why haven’t you just explained all this to Brittany?”
Santana scoffs at him. “Are you kidding me? You know what she’s like. I mean, I love her, but she wouldn’t even understand what I was saying. Breakfast confuses her.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Well. I can understand how it would be difficult to date a total idiot.”
Her jaw drops. “Don’t talk about Brittany that way!”
“I wasn’t talking about Brittany.”
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“What’s this?” asks Kurt, confused.
“What’s it look like?” asks Finn, sliding the glass carefully across the kitchen table toward Kurt.
“It looks like you made me warm milk. I’m touched.”
“It’s cold milk,” says Finn, raising an eyebrow. “Warm milk’s gross.”
Kurt smiles fondly at his stepbrother. “Well, it’s very sweet. May I ask what occasion this is supposed to be marking?”
Finn stares at him blankly. “Huh?”
Kurt sighs. “What’s with the milk, Finn?”
“Oh. Well, I know this prom thing is stressing you out. And… you kinda look like you have a lot on your mind tonight. Do you wanna, like, talk about anything?”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure how much help you’d be. Not because you’re not helpful,” he clarifies quickly, “it’s just - it’s kind of a gay thing.” Finn looks extremely alarmed and Kurt hastens to correct his assumption. “No, no, no. Not that kind of gay thing. I’m just not sure how much sense this problem will make to someone who isn’t gay.”
His stepbrother shrugs. “So try me. I’m a good listener.”
“You are?” asks Kurt skeptically.
“Well…” Finn confesses. “Maybe not. But after dating Rachel for so long, I’ve gotten pretty good at sitting still and looking interested. That’s kinda the same thing, right?”
“I guess. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Finn nods. “Yeah. You listen to me talk about, like, girls and stuff a lot. I can totally handle gay problems.”
Kurt laughs. “Okay. Well, then.” He inhales dramatically. “I’m wondering about my prom crusade. More specifically - I’m wondering if I’m taking it far enough.”
“Dude, haven’t we already”-
“Oh, you’ve been great - everyone in glee has been amazing. I’m wondering about me; if I’m taking it far enough. It’s just… I’m prepared to lose, Finn. Like, I’m really prepared to lose. Blaine and I have this whole back-up plan about how we’ll get a hotel and - and okay, this is the kind of gay thing you don’t want to hear about, so I’ll stop. But I was talking to Santana today and it made me question what I’ve been doing.”
“How so?” asks Finn.
Kurt takes another deep breath. “This whole time, I’ve been trying so hard to do what will be in Blaine’s and my best interest - whatever will let us have a fun, relaxing night. And I made the decision a long time ago that I wouldn’t ruin the prom for my friends. I wouldn’t ask anyone to boycott. I wouldn’t let Rachel drag her dads into this. I wouldn’t even let my dad get dragged into this. But what I haven’t been thinking about is… what about the others? There are definitely closeted gay kids at McKinley, and there will absolutely be more in the future. So should I make more of a scene for their sakes?”
“You mean, like, should you be more annoying about it?”
Kurt laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what I mean. From what I can gather, rules get changed because someone decides to be annoying. Some fed-up person decides to quit playing nice and start being obnoxious; they decide that they’ll shout to be heard and fight until their demands get met. And everyone hates them - but without those annoying people, I don’t know that anything would ever change.”
Finn scrunches up his face in confusion. “Not to be… whatever… but I’m kinda surprised that you didn’t think about this earlier.”
Kurt considers this. “It’s different for me, Finn. I’m very - I guess isolated is the word? I was the only out gay kid at McKinley for a long time. And then Brittany and Santana came out as bi, but they certainly don’t consider themselves a part of the queer community. I’ve never been part of a support group or a pride group or an alliance or anything. Blaine’s still the only other gay guy I’ve met who’s my age. Well” - Kurt falters. “There was another one but... let’s just say he was the opposite of helpful. And he graduated last year, thankfully.”
“So you’re saying you don’t feel gay?”
“Oh, no. Trust me. I feel very gay. More so than your average gay person, I think, because I’m the only one, and no one will let me forget. I mean, I’m “the gay guy.” That’s who I am, Finn. For a lot of kids at school, it’s the only thing they know about me. I literally am the representation of the gay community. But because it's just me, I don’t always feel like a part of this community I’m representing - but I am a part of it, all the same. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
Finn shakes his head. “You explained it fine. I get it. And I really don’t have any advice, but, uh - you know I’ll do whatever. I mean, I’m not saying it wouldn’t suck but… I’d boycott the prom. If you asked me to.”
It’s on the tip of Kurt’s tongue to say, “You’d really do that for me?” but he manages to hold it in. He thinks of Finn in a red shower curtain, Finn singing to him at the wedding, Finn watching Project Runway with him and enjoying it despite himself, Finn introducing Kurt to people as, “my brother,” and introducing Blaine just as unblinkingly as, “my brother’s boyfriend.”
“I know you would,” Kurt says steadily. “And I can’t promise I won’t ask you to.”
Finn doesn’t say anything to this, but he manages to not look too upset. “It wouldn’t be your fault, dude. It would be, like, Principal Figgins’ fault.”
Kurt sighs. “I just wish he’d talk to me. But he’s ‘mysteriously’ canceled the last five appointments I’ve made with him, and it’s impossible to get him alone.”
“Why do you have to get him alone to talk to him?”
“Well, I can’t talk to him about this in public, Finn.”
Finn shrugs. “If he won’t make time for you, then why not? Why can’t you?”
“Why can’t”- Kurt frowns. “Well, hey. Yeah. Come to think of it, why can’t I?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Finn Hudson, this is probably going to be the only time I tell you this, so savor it: You’re a genius. Now if you'll excuse me, I have go go ask my dad something.”
Kurt jumps up from the kitchen table and rounds the corner, entering the living room, where his dad is sitting on the sofa and watching the news.
“Hey, Dad?” he asks breathlessly.
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“If I were to do something incredibly stupid that involved standing up in front of the entire school and demanding that Principal Figgins give me a straight answer about prom, how would you feel about that?”
His dad considers this. “I’d feel pretty good about it.”
“There’s a possibility I might get suspended or something,” Kurt warns.
His father sits up straight in his chair and looks Kurt in the eye. “Listen, son - as much as I want you to go to your prom, I honestly hope they try and suspend you.”
“You do? Why?”
“Well, as I understand it, there’s an appeals process which is attended by every member of the Lima City School Board. And I gotta tell you, Kurt - I’d have some real interesting remarks to make to them on a wide range of topics: Bullying. Intolerance. The non-discrimination policy. And I’m sure I’ll think of others as I go along. ”
“Well, I’ll be sure to drop a few four-letter words into my speech to make the suspension more likely.”
“Would you? For my sake?”
“I promise.”
“So in front of the school, huh? What are you going to do - shout at him during lunch?”
Kurt grins widely. “Would you believe, Dad, that our esteemed principal will be giving a lecture to the senior class on Monday afternoon… on prom etiquette?”
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Four days out
Kurt’s heart has been pounding wildly from the moment the senior class had started filing into the auditorium. His palms have been sweating since Principal Figgins had launched into his mind-numbingly boring lecture on prom etiquette. The queasiness in his stomach had set in as soon as the police officer stepped onto the stage - and it had been in no way alleviated by the slide show that had followed; image after grisly image of post-prom alcohol-induced car wrecks.
By the time Principal Figgins steps back up to the stage, thanks the police officer, and picks the microphone back up, Kurt is feeling vaguely light-headed. But he knows he’s made the right decision; and he also knows that, whatever happens, he has his dad’s support. It is that thought - along with the image of Blaine’s beautiful, encouraging smile and the knowledge that he’ll be kicking this school to the curb any day now - that propels him to his feet when Principal Figgins asks if any of the students have questions and warily calls on Kurt.
“Principal Figgins,” he says, his voice sounding small and strangely childlike to his own ears, “I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to get a straight answer to this question from somebody in charge.” He pauses, his mouth feeling very dry suddenly and the queasiness increasing tenfold as he feels the eye of every person in the room on him. “And I still don’t have one. I’ve been dating my boyfriend Blaine for over a year, and I would very much like to bring him to my senior prom. Is there… anything… you can do to help me make that happen? And if the answer is no, could you please do me the courtesy of telling me why?”
The look on the administrator’s face is enough to make Kurt want to sit back down, and the sudden explosion of loud whispers around him makes him want to run out of the auditorium and hide in the choir room until graduation.
“Mr. Hummel,” responds Principal Figgins sharply, drawing his eyebrows together and pressing his mouth into a thin line. “I have already spoken about this issue at length with your glee club adviser, Mr. Schuester. As I’ve made clear to him, the implications of changing an entire policy to suit the needs of just one person”-
“It’s not just one person!”
The voice rings out powerfully in the auditorium. The eyes of everyone in the room shift automatically toward the source of the sound, and it is with considerable amazement that they (and Kurt) rest their shocked gazes on -
Finn Hudson.
Kurt blinks, positive that he is somehow dreaming. But when he opens his eyes, Finn is still standing up in the fifth row of the auditorium, and staring directly at Principal Figgins.
“It’s not just one person,” Finn repeats loudly, taking a deep breath. “I want to take my friend Noah Puckerman to the prom.”
A low, shocked buzzing noise follows this statement as the senior class reacts to this staggering development. For his part, Kurt feels like he might stop breathing altogether. What in the world-
“Mr. Hudson, sit down immediately. This is not the time for jokes or class pranks or”-
“It’s not a joke,” says Finn, his voice ringing with conviction. “I want to take him. As bros,” he clarifies hastily, swiveling slightly and fixing his fellow classmates with a shut-up-or-I’ll-make-you expression. “But I wanna go with him. If, uh…” Finn clears his throat. “If he says yes.” Red-faced, he glances over at Puck, seated two rows in front of him.
Puck practically bounds to his feet. “Hell, yeah, I’ll go,” he declares forcefully. He glares around the room. “What?” he demands. “I’m a total stud. Any dude at this school would be lucky to escort Puckzilla.”
Finn shoots Puck a relieved smile. “So that’s three,” he says to Principal Figgins. “That’s three students right there who want to”-
“No, it’s not!”
Kurt’s heart stops as bold, beautiful Mercedes stands up and steps into the aisle. With a shake of her gorgeous hair and a coolly appraising look at the man standing up at the podium, she crosses her arms over her chest and says, “Principal Figgins, I’d like to take Rachel Berry with me to senior prom.”
A beaming Rachel jumps up from her seat. “Mercedes, I would be delighted to accept your very gracious offer.”
Kurt shakes his head, as if trying to deny the sight of his four friends standing up in the auditorium. No, he thinks. Guys, this is insane. Don’t- oh god- what if this stunt got them banned from the prom altogether? He’d never forgive himself. He’d never -
Quinn’s cool, prim voice emerges from the back of the auditorium. Kurt turns to see her standing with her hands on her hips and her fiercest bitch-face plastered on. “I’d like to take Tina Cohen-Chang to the prom.” Tina, sitting a few seats down from Quinn, gives her a small wave and stands up as well, grinning from ear-to-ear.
Artie, whose wheelchair is in the aisle toward the front of the auditorium, raises his hand and says loudly, “Principal Figgins, I would totally like to escort my best bro, Mike Chang, to the prom. And we’ll both have the chicken, ‘kay?” Mike, smiling, leans over and bumps fists with Artie before standing up to join his fellow glee club members.
Kurt’s vision is starting to blur. These people. God, these crazy, amazing people…
“Uh…” Kurt spins around to see a slightly pink-faced Sam Evans standing up, a few seats down from Finn. “I’d, uh, like to bring my friend Josh. From my old school. So that’s…yeah… that’s another two. ” Sam starts to sit back down but then seems to remember that the other glee kids are standing. He shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, but remains upright.
Lauren Zizes stands up then, her voice carrying loudly across the auditorium from her seat next to Puck. “I’d like to take my best girl, Christy Schneider. Christy, babe? You in?” Kurt knows that she’s in AV club with Lauren and Artie - and apparently she is in. She stands up as well.
A whisper of movement from his left catches Kurt’s eye and he turns to see Brittany standing up, smoothing down the pleats of her Cheerios skirt and gazing hopefully at - oh. Santana. Santana is, for her part, glaring at the floor with her arms crossed defensively over her chest and looking even more prickly and unapproachable than usual (which is saying something).
It may well be that Kurt is imagining the flicker of defiance he thinks he sees appear in Brittany’s eyes - he can’t see her very well from his vantage point - but there’s no mistaking the sudden, hard set of her jaw or the firm tilt of her chin.
“I want to take Becky Jackson to the prom.”
Yeah - Kurt’s definitely not imagining the widening of Santana’s eyes or the sight of her mouth gaping open as she angles herself in her seat to look back at Brittany as little Becky Jackson clambers out of her seat and says with a sunny smile, “Thanks, Brittany. I would love to go with you!”
Brittany is still looking up at Principal Figgins. “That rule is really mean,” she says loudly. “You shouldn’t be mean to people.” She lets her eyes drop back down to Santana. “It sucks when people are mean to you for no reason.”
A girl named Tara Viehman who had been seated near Santana stands up. Kurt knows her fairly well, and they’ve always gotten along - she’s in a few of his classes and they’d been lab partners in AP Biology for a semester. “I, um…” She fidgets nervously with the hemline of her T-shirt. “I would like to bring my girlfriend. Kelly. She goes to Crawford. And - and yeah. I’d like to bring her.”
And that’s - okay, wow. Wow. Before he can even process this information, a loud murmur draws his attention to the opposite side of the auditorium.
Zachary Vincze is standing.
Kurt blinks. Zachary Vincze. Unlike Tara, Kurt doesn’t know Zach personally - although Kurt knows who he is, of course, because everyone does. He’s an incredibly popular boy; friendly, handsome, athletic. He’s an excellent student in honors classes and the editor-in-chief of the school’s literary magazine and he’s on the swim team and on the track team and - just no way. No way.
“I’m speaking up right now, because I’d like to ask a friend of mine who’s a junior here at McKinley to the prom. And he’s just a friend.” Zach pauses. “At the moment. But if I’m lucky enough to have him accept… then I’m hoping that the prom will be our official first date.” His eyes sweep around the auditorium. “I don’t know if I’d be brave enough to do this if I weren’t graduating in a week. But I’d like to think I’m paving the way for my friend who has another year to go here. So here’s a big old Public Service Announcement for everyone: My name is Zach Vincze. And yeah, I’m bisexual.”
Zach remains standing, and if the talking around him bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. Kurt, for his part, feels like he might faint at any moment. Just as he’s trying to decide if he should take some sort of action - he’d been the one who started this madness after all - two more girls stand up.
Amy Dorak and Kristen Bastianelli, to be exact. They are two exceptionally giggly girls from his French class, and they’re best friends as far as he knows. He never in a million years would have thought that they-
“We’re not gay,” says Kristen, “but, like, neither of us have dates to the prom because our love-lives suck”-
“Guys in general suck”- adds Amy.
“So we’d like to go together. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to. Who is it hurting?”
A small knot of girls toward the back of the auditorium stand up. Alexandra Seage - one of the brainiest girls in the class - speaks up loudly. “The six of us were all planning to go stag. We did it for homecoming, and we did it for Senior Ball and Banquet. I don’t see any reason at all that we can’t escort each other. We’ll figure out exactly who’s taking who - but that’s another six people for the list. Oh, sorry, seven. Well, we’ll find another girl to make it an even number. So change that to eight.”
“And,” booms a voice - a very familiar voice that makes Kurt’s blood freeze in his veins - “as a self-appointed chaperone for this shindig, I would like to bring as my date the only person in the world more stupendous than one Sue Sylvester. And that is the fabulous and very female Jean Sylvester.”
Kurt looks up in wide-eyed disbelief to see Coach Sylvester stepping up onto the stage, approaching a thoroughly shell-shocked Principal Figgins and draping her arm around him.
“Well, Figgins, here’s the sitch: I’d like to escort my sister to the McKinley prom - and what Sue Sylvester wants, Sue Sylvester gets. So why don’t you get on the phone and make that call to the Superintendent, letting her know in no uncertain terms that a grand total of twenty-seven students want to bring a partner of the same gender to the prom. By my count, that’s more than ten percent of the senior class. And unless you want Jacob ben Israel to mail video footage of this assembly to Fox News and watch them run a segment on what would appear to the public to be the gayest school in Gaysville, Ohio… I’d get on that soon. What do you say, buddy?”
“I - I don’t… I”-
“Relax, buddy. It’s okay. Stirring acts of social justice always leave me speechless - of course, I’m usually speechless with rage, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Oh, and Porcelain,” she says, her eyes zeroing in on Kurt. “You should have come to me right off the bat. Superintendent Tripp was on my college cheerleading squad and I’ve got more dirt on her than you can suck up with an industrial-strength vacuum cleaner.”
“But," stammers Kurt, "but I thought you - weren’t you saying on your talk-show about hating the ‘sneaky gays?’ - I thought”-
“Sneaky gays, Porcelain. You’re a cross between Liberace’s love-child and Liza Minnelli’s most fabulous feather boa. Your level of ‘flaming’ is such that if the electricity in this school were to cease operation, you’d be a beacon in the darkness. I can see you and hear you and smell you from a mile away, and let me tell you - I appreciate that, Porcelain. That hobbit you’re dating? Him I’m not so sure of. Shortness alone fails to convince me of homosexual tendencies and I’d prefer it if you designated him with some sort of appropriate marker on prom night. A rhinestone tiara, perhaps, or a glittery pink bowtie? A pair of high heels wouldn’t go amiss, either, Porcelain, in the sense that you won’t have to crane your head to an impossible angle just to make eye contact with him.”
“Um. That probably won’t be happening,” admits Kurt.
Sue sighs. “Well, in that case, will you save me a dance?”
Kurt blinks. “Uh - I - yes?”
Sue points her finger at him. “Outstanding.”
With that, she exits the stage, dragging a stunned-looking Principal Figgins along behind her by his jacket lapel -
-and the crowd, quite literally, goes wild.
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The next few minutes pass by in a blurry haze. Kurt finds himself hugged and kissed repeatedly by Quinn and Mercedes and Rachel and Tina and Brittany, and slapped heartily on the back by Puck and Finn and Mike and Sam and - oww. Can’t they just hug him like the girls did?
Tara Viehman approaches him with a slow, nervous smile and they exchange a quick, wordless embrace - and about thirty seconds later, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
It’s Zach.
“Uh… hey, dude. Look, I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me,” he says, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets. “But in my defense, I only really knew for sure a few months ago when I met Andrew. I sort of had an idea before that, but I felt weird about going up to you and saying, ‘Hey, uh, I’m not positive but I think I might be bi? So you might not be the only one? Except you’re still sort of the only one, because I really do like girls and guys seem to be more of the exception for me?’ I didn’t know how to go about starting that conversation. But I definitely should have said something; and if it helps, I always tried to get the guys to lay off you. I know that doesn’t count for much; I know I’m a coward. I’m not like you, Kurt.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Well, as much as it sucks to know that the crush I had on you for the entirety of freshman year might not have been as pointless as I thought…” Zach laughs. “…I don’t really know how brave I am, either.”
Zach opens his mouth to contradict him, but Kurt holds up a hand. “I’m not saying I’m not brave. I’m just saying I don’t know how brave I am. It’s like Coach Sylvester said. I’m… obvious. I can’t hide it. I didn’t choose to come out so much as I just was out. If I were like you - athletic and masculine and possessing a voice in a normal register - would I be out? I honestly have no idea and there’s no way to know.”
The blond boy shakes his head, looking impressed. “You’re quite a person, Kurt Hummel. And it kind of sucks to think that if I’d been braver... we might have been friends.”
Kurt’s taken aback by that, so much so that for a second he wants to say something trite, like: “Well, it’s not too late to start!” or “No, look, we’ll totally hang out over the summer!” or “I’ll friend you on Facebook - we’ll catch up sometime!”
But he gets the feeling that Zach doesn’t like to be patronized and if he’s being honest, Kurt feels the same way. Just one more thing they apparently have in common.
Kurt shrugs. “We might have been.”
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Kurt nearly drops his phone in his rush to answer it.
“Blaine?” he says excitedly.
“Hey, babe,” answers his boyfriend warmly. “So have you been suspended? Expelled? Come on, come on, don’t keep me in suspense - I can’t wait to tell all the guys I’m dating a total rule-breaking bad-ass.”
“Not suspended or expelled.”
“Arrested, then? Ooh, I like it! You look adorable in orange”-
“Blaaaaine,” he groans.
“No, seriously. I’ll start clearing my schedule for my conjugal visits.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until after prom to arrange the first one. I only have four days to coordinate my look after all.”
“Four days to”- Blaine gasps. “Oh my god. You did it? I can’t believe it - Kurt, that’s amazing!”
“Well, I don’t really know if I did it. But it’s done.”
“What happened?”
Kurt shakes his head wonderingly. “I don’t really even know, to be honest with you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means... do you have at least fifteen minutes? Trust me. This is a story you’ll want to hear from the beginning.”
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Finn has apparently already told his dad the good news, because the second Kurt steps into the house he finds himself unexpectedly swept up into a big bear hug.
“Congratulations, kiddo! I knew you could do it!”
Kurt hugs his dad back tightly. “It wasn’t just me. Did Finn tell you what he did?”
“He did, but I think he was trying to downplay his role.”
“Don’t let him. He was amazing, Dad.”
“So were you, Kurt. You made this whole thing happen, you know. It took a lot of drive and a lot of maturity and I’m, uh - well, I’m real proud of you, kiddo.”
Kurt closes his eyes as his father releases him. Normally he’d be basking in the warmth of his dad’s words, but unfortunately he has to use this praise as a conversation segue.
“It’s funny you should mention how mature I am,” he says, smiling hopefully at his dad.
“Oh god. What is it? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Kurt hastens to reassure him. “It’s - it’s more of what I’m hoping to do.”
His dad folds his arms across his chest. “Go on.”
Kurt winces slightly. “Blaine and I had talked about maybe getting a hotel room after prom...”
His dad’s face is unreadable. “Uh-huh. I see.”
After a few seconds of an extremely uncomfortable silence, Kurt fidgets a little and says, “So... is that okay?”
His dad grimaces. “At this point, couldn’t you have just lied to me about it?”
Kurt’s jaw drops. “What? How could I possibly have done that? If I’d said I wanted to stay over at Mercedes, you would have known I was lying!”
“Exactly,” says his dad defensively. “You would have lied, and I would have known you were lying, and you would have known that I knew you were lying. But you’d know that I knew where you really were. It would have been great.”
“I honestly didn’t understand half of what you said, but I don’t think I heard an answer in there.”
His father sighs heavily. “The answer is… that you’re eighteen. And you’ll be a high school graduate by this time next week. And you’re in a long-term relationship with a young man I like, who I know respects and cares for you very much. And under those circumstances I’m not going to tell you ‘no.’ But it’s just - it’s really hard to make myself physically say the word ‘yes.’"
Kurt rolls his eyes fondly at his dad. “Fine. Let’s try this again. Should you have need of me, please be aware that Mercedes and I will be renting a room at the Wingate on West Market Street on prom night.”
“Gee, thanks,” mutters his dad.
“You’re very welcome,” Kurt replies sweetly. He turns to head upstairs, but he’s stopped by the sound of his dad’s voice drifting out to him:
“Hey, Kurt?”
“Yes?”
“Can you… come back here?”
His dad has situated himself on the sofa, and he pats the seat next to him. Kurt sits down in it and looks expectantly at his father. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry. Look, I think I handled that all wrong. It's just - you’re just growing up so fast that it’s hard for me to catch up. Of course I want you to be honest with me. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything. I know we had that talk last year, but do you… need anything? Condoms? Or…”
Kurt shrugs. "Mercedes usually takes care of the supplies."
His dad throws him a dark look. “I’m trying here, okay? Cut me some slack. Okay, so you’re… prepared?”
Kurt doesn’t meet his dad’s eyes but gives him a terse nod.
“And I know it might be presuming a lot to think you haven’t, you know… done whatever you might do on Friday…already. But just to check - you’re not feeling pressured or anything, are you?”
“No,” says Kurt tightly.
“And… you’re ready?"
An image flashes in Kurt’s mind then, unbidden and unwelcome - himself on a bed, hovering over Blaine, pressing into Blaine; his boyfriend’s face contorted in agony and his hands shoving against Kurt’s shoulders: Ow - Kurt - it hurts so much - please - stop-
Kurt shudders. That’s just his imagination, right? Gay men have sex; they have quite a lot of sex if the websites are to be trusted. Just because he’d prefer to be the one underneath doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt Blaine. He trusts that Blaine wouldn’t hurt him - so why can’t he seem to trust himself? It takes him a few seconds to remember that his dad is still waiting for a response.
"Kurt?"
“Oh. Sorry,” he says, with a startled shake of his head and a smile that is meant to convince both his father and himself. “Y-yeah, Dad. No worries..."
"...I’m ready.”
TO BE CONT'd...
A/N: I really do apologize for the lack of Klaine in this chapter! I swear there will be TONS of Klaine from here on out. Chapter four is basically JUST Kurt and Blaine in their hotel room.