let it snow (2/3)
Title: Let It Snow
Media: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine, Finn (with a hint of Faberry)
Word Count: ~1300 for this part / ~2700 total (so far)
Summary: Since we've got no place to go... fuck it, let's just play Halo.
Author's Note: Thank you for blueb1rd for the beta! If any of you would like to follow me on tumblr, you can find me here.
PART ONE
Kurt steps into the living room, frowning at the sight before him. “What are you guys doing?”
“Training,” Finn informs him before shoving Blaine in the side in an attempt to break his concentration.
“Really? Because it looks like you’re just playing Halo.”
“Kurt, just because you can’t benefit from this particular training module doesn’t mean you can knock us for it,” Blaine tells him, narrowly avoiding Finn’s next shove.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. I’m not even allowed to play Halo anymore because as Finn so crudely put it, ‘I am a cheating whore.’ I think he’s just a sore loser.” Kurt examines his nails with disinterest. “It’s fine. I’d rather be building my dream home on The Sims anyway.”
Blaine perks up at the mention of The Sims. “Can I play?”
“No. You’re just going to take the ladders out of the pool again. I’ve put too much work into it for you to mess it up now.”
With a defeated sigh, Blaine turns back to Finn, only to be met with a horrified look.
“Puck doesn’t let me talk about that night,” he says with a shudder. “He even made me burn the controllers.”
“And you say I’m dramatic,” Kurt drawls, taking a seat next to Finn. Blaine looks like he wants to make a grabby motion for Kurt, but soon realizes that he must look a little pathetic. Or, that had been Finn’s intention when he glared at him. Whatever works.
Blaine raises a brow. “Isn’t this the part where we’re supposed to share our concerns about the welfare of our friends and loved ones?” Finn and Kurt respond with blank stares. “Burt? Carole? Rachel? Any of this ringing any bells?”
“Well, Burt and Carole are out of town for whatever conveniently placed excuse best moves the plot along,” Kurt says, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
“Huh?”
Kurt blinks a few times. “Sorry. Must have blacked out for a minute there. Where were we?”
“Well, I made that awesome list and we were going to go out there and own some zombies, but we realized our artillery skills were lacking,” Finn says, eyes still locked on the screen.
Blaine is torn between giving Kurt his undivided attention and paying attention to the game. The end result is him attempting to train one of his eyes on the screen and the other on Kurt. His eyes don’t cooperate with this, of course, and Kurt wins out. “I took archery one summer when I was staying at my aunt and uncle’s lake house.”
“Of course you did, Blaine.”
“No one cares, Blaine.”
These are conflicting responses. Blaine just smiles.
“Hey man, are you okay? Because whenever you smile like that I wonder if you’re having a stroke.”
-
Kurt crosses his arms, standing between Finn and the phone. “We’re not calling Rachel.”
“Dude! Why not?” Finn says, just short of stomping his foot in protest. “Blaine’s here. It’s only fair.”
“Or am I?” Blaine says darkly, making a waving motion with his hands.
“You are,” Kurt tells him dismissively before turning back to Finn. “It’s perfect, Finn. So, no offense - but it’s Rachel. She’s not going to survive this thing.” He raises a hand to silence his protests. “That’s one less opponent when to comes to making the first cut of NYADA’s careful admissions process.”
“Are you sure that’s a real school? Because I was trying to Google it the other day...”
“Blaine!”
“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”
“Part of my admissions essay will be about how I was inspired by one of the brightest stars I’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing the stage with,” he closes his eyes, caught up in the passion of his own speech. “Her star shone so brightly that it burned out far before her time. She will make a stunning addition to my autobiography. And the best part? She’s not around to make those noises with her mouth that aren’t singing.”
“Like talking?” Finn asks, his eyes slightly glazed over.
“Exactly like talking.”
“So we can’t call Rachel?” he tries again, this time armed with a pout and clasped hands.
-
So they’re calling Rachel. One might think that Kurt had given in due to the remnants of his previous crush on his stepbrother coming back to bite him, but it’s the exact opposite. Blaine, so inspired by their on-again, off-again romance, delivered an impassioned speech in Finn’s defense. Because if Kurt didn’t let Finn call Rachel, he didn’t believe in love. They were destined to be together. When she sings, Finn gets butterflies. And Blaine gets butterflies when Kurt sings - so he knows they’re legit.
Kurt wants to kill Blaine sometimes.
“Rachel, hi!” Finn greets her cheerfully, twirling the phone cord around with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah - so you know how there’s zombies and shit?” Pause. “Stuff. I meant stuff! I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar, I promise.” A distant screech is heard through the line, but nothing that Kurt and Blaine can make out.
“D’ya think they’ll get married?” Blaine asks, watching Finn from his spot on the couch with his chin propped up by his palms. “I think they will. High school sweethearts. It’s totally romantic.”
“They will,” Kurt nods. “It will be the unholiest of unions. They divorce party and the wedding will be the same drunken blur.”
“What do you mean you and Quinn have it under control?” he gasps. “What? You’re---what?” Finn drops the phone to his chest, cradling the receiver with his hand. “They’re on the roof of the school shooting down zombies, dudes. Can we go?”
“Nope!” Kurt answers cheerfully. “Glad to hear they have things squared away. Say, tell them that if they see Shuester around, make sure to double tap.”
After he tells them, he frowns. “Quinn says he’s not a zombie yet.”
“Do I look like I care?”
-
“Man, this is the worst zombie invasion ever,” Finn groans, plopping back down on the couch. “Not that I’ve been through any zombie invasions before, but I always thought it would be a lot cooler than this, you know? Riding on snow mobiles and taking down the undead.”
Blaine rubs his arm reassuringly. “Well, if it helps, I thought your little plan was very nice! I can tell you put a lot of effort into it.”
“Yeah, whatever. It doesn’t matter now. My girlfriend and ex-girlfriend are saving the day and kicking ass. Actually, that’s kind of hot.” Finn appreciates the mental image for a moment, the tiniest amount of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. He then nods over in Kurt’s direction. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I put peppermint schnapps in his hot chocolate,” Blaine grins, taking a generous sip of his own drink.
“You guys,” Kurt slurs, burrowing further under his blanket. “There are zombies outside.” He giggles, poking his head out of his self-made one person blanket fort. “Zombies.”
“Yes there are!” Blaine pecks him on the forehead and nuzzles his nose. “And you are my little blanket monster. Rawr!”
“I’m not little,” Kurt purrs suggestively.
Finn looks at them for a moment, observing silently. “You know, this is the most I have ever seen you two do in public. Like, you might as well be sucking him off right now. It’s kind of weirding me out.”
“You know,” Kurt cuts in, sharing a knowing look with Blaine. “If the world is going to end, all bets are off, right?”
“No!” Finn squeaks, trying to cover up for the fact that he might have thought about it for a fraction of a second. “Bets on are. So completely on. They have never been more on.”
Blaine shrugs. “Can’t say we didn’t offer.”
Media: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine, Finn (with a hint of Faberry)
Word Count: ~1300 for this part / ~2700 total (so far)
Summary: Since we've got no place to go... fuck it, let's just play Halo.
Author's Note: Thank you for blueb1rd for the beta! If any of you would like to follow me on tumblr, you can find me here.
PART ONE
Kurt steps into the living room, frowning at the sight before him. “What are you guys doing?”
“Training,” Finn informs him before shoving Blaine in the side in an attempt to break his concentration.
“Really? Because it looks like you’re just playing Halo.”
“Kurt, just because you can’t benefit from this particular training module doesn’t mean you can knock us for it,” Blaine tells him, narrowly avoiding Finn’s next shove.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. I’m not even allowed to play Halo anymore because as Finn so crudely put it, ‘I am a cheating whore.’ I think he’s just a sore loser.” Kurt examines his nails with disinterest. “It’s fine. I’d rather be building my dream home on The Sims anyway.”
Blaine perks up at the mention of The Sims. “Can I play?”
“No. You’re just going to take the ladders out of the pool again. I’ve put too much work into it for you to mess it up now.”
With a defeated sigh, Blaine turns back to Finn, only to be met with a horrified look.
“Puck doesn’t let me talk about that night,” he says with a shudder. “He even made me burn the controllers.”
“And you say I’m dramatic,” Kurt drawls, taking a seat next to Finn. Blaine looks like he wants to make a grabby motion for Kurt, but soon realizes that he must look a little pathetic. Or, that had been Finn’s intention when he glared at him. Whatever works.
Blaine raises a brow. “Isn’t this the part where we’re supposed to share our concerns about the welfare of our friends and loved ones?” Finn and Kurt respond with blank stares. “Burt? Carole? Rachel? Any of this ringing any bells?”
“Well, Burt and Carole are out of town for whatever conveniently placed excuse best moves the plot along,” Kurt says, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
“Huh?”
Kurt blinks a few times. “Sorry. Must have blacked out for a minute there. Where were we?”
“Well, I made that awesome list and we were going to go out there and own some zombies, but we realized our artillery skills were lacking,” Finn says, eyes still locked on the screen.
Blaine is torn between giving Kurt his undivided attention and paying attention to the game. The end result is him attempting to train one of his eyes on the screen and the other on Kurt. His eyes don’t cooperate with this, of course, and Kurt wins out. “I took archery one summer when I was staying at my aunt and uncle’s lake house.”
“Of course you did, Blaine.”
“No one cares, Blaine.”
These are conflicting responses. Blaine just smiles.
“Hey man, are you okay? Because whenever you smile like that I wonder if you’re having a stroke.”
-
Kurt crosses his arms, standing between Finn and the phone. “We’re not calling Rachel.”
“Dude! Why not?” Finn says, just short of stomping his foot in protest. “Blaine’s here. It’s only fair.”
“Or am I?” Blaine says darkly, making a waving motion with his hands.
“You are,” Kurt tells him dismissively before turning back to Finn. “It’s perfect, Finn. So, no offense - but it’s Rachel. She’s not going to survive this thing.” He raises a hand to silence his protests. “That’s one less opponent when to comes to making the first cut of NYADA’s careful admissions process.”
“Are you sure that’s a real school? Because I was trying to Google it the other day...”
“Blaine!”
“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”
“Part of my admissions essay will be about how I was inspired by one of the brightest stars I’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing the stage with,” he closes his eyes, caught up in the passion of his own speech. “Her star shone so brightly that it burned out far before her time. She will make a stunning addition to my autobiography. And the best part? She’s not around to make those noises with her mouth that aren’t singing.”
“Like talking?” Finn asks, his eyes slightly glazed over.
“Exactly like talking.”
“So we can’t call Rachel?” he tries again, this time armed with a pout and clasped hands.
-
So they’re calling Rachel. One might think that Kurt had given in due to the remnants of his previous crush on his stepbrother coming back to bite him, but it’s the exact opposite. Blaine, so inspired by their on-again, off-again romance, delivered an impassioned speech in Finn’s defense. Because if Kurt didn’t let Finn call Rachel, he didn’t believe in love. They were destined to be together. When she sings, Finn gets butterflies. And Blaine gets butterflies when Kurt sings - so he knows they’re legit.
Kurt wants to kill Blaine sometimes.
“Rachel, hi!” Finn greets her cheerfully, twirling the phone cord around with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah - so you know how there’s zombies and shit?” Pause. “Stuff. I meant stuff! I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar, I promise.” A distant screech is heard through the line, but nothing that Kurt and Blaine can make out.
“D’ya think they’ll get married?” Blaine asks, watching Finn from his spot on the couch with his chin propped up by his palms. “I think they will. High school sweethearts. It’s totally romantic.”
“They will,” Kurt nods. “It will be the unholiest of unions. They divorce party and the wedding will be the same drunken blur.”
“What do you mean you and Quinn have it under control?” he gasps. “What? You’re---what?” Finn drops the phone to his chest, cradling the receiver with his hand. “They’re on the roof of the school shooting down zombies, dudes. Can we go?”
“Nope!” Kurt answers cheerfully. “Glad to hear they have things squared away. Say, tell them that if they see Shuester around, make sure to double tap.”
After he tells them, he frowns. “Quinn says he’s not a zombie yet.”
“Do I look like I care?”
-
“Man, this is the worst zombie invasion ever,” Finn groans, plopping back down on the couch. “Not that I’ve been through any zombie invasions before, but I always thought it would be a lot cooler than this, you know? Riding on snow mobiles and taking down the undead.”
Blaine rubs his arm reassuringly. “Well, if it helps, I thought your little plan was very nice! I can tell you put a lot of effort into it.”
“Yeah, whatever. It doesn’t matter now. My girlfriend and ex-girlfriend are saving the day and kicking ass. Actually, that’s kind of hot.” Finn appreciates the mental image for a moment, the tiniest amount of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. He then nods over in Kurt’s direction. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I put peppermint schnapps in his hot chocolate,” Blaine grins, taking a generous sip of his own drink.
“You guys,” Kurt slurs, burrowing further under his blanket. “There are zombies outside.” He giggles, poking his head out of his self-made one person blanket fort. “Zombies.”
“Yes there are!” Blaine pecks him on the forehead and nuzzles his nose. “And you are my little blanket monster. Rawr!”
“I’m not little,” Kurt purrs suggestively.
Finn looks at them for a moment, observing silently. “You know, this is the most I have ever seen you two do in public. Like, you might as well be sucking him off right now. It’s kind of weirding me out.”
“You know,” Kurt cuts in, sharing a knowing look with Blaine. “If the world is going to end, all bets are off, right?”
“No!” Finn squeaks, trying to cover up for the fact that he might have thought about it for a fraction of a second. “Bets on are. So completely on. They have never been more on.”
Blaine shrugs. “Can’t say we didn’t offer.”