FIC: In My Veins 20/?
Title: In My Veins 20/?
Rating: eventual NC-17
Warnings: AU, stepcest, language
Summary: He’d only introduced Carole to his father so that he could get closer to Sebastian - it was just a simple crush at first. He didn’t expect to become his stepbrother. And he certainly didn’t expect to actually fall in love. Kurt/Sebastian and Kurt/Blaine.
---
“How’s the planning going?”
Kurt looks up to see Sebastian approaching from the foot of the stairs. The coffee table’s littered with checklists, spreadsheets of price comparisons, and flyers from various businesses ranging from florists and caterers to photographers and limo services. His laptop browser’s open to about eight tabs of invitation designers.
“You look... busy,” Sebastian adds, raising an eyebrow, and Kurt laughs.
“Well, I’ve booked the venue for November 20th. That’s always the hardest part, so I like to think of that as progress.”
“I still don’t know why we all can’t just head down to Kewpee for a post-civil ceremony burgerthon and call it a day.”
Kurt shoots him a dirty look. “First off, that’s disgusting. Second off, that’s nowhere near good enough for our parents. Besides, I thought you liked big parties.”
“House parties, not weddings,” Sebastian answers pointedly, sinking down onto the couch next to Kurt. “I can get smashed and hook up with randoms at house parties.”
“Who says you can’t do that at weddings too?” He regrets the words as soon as they escape his mouth, and he abruptly turns to stare at the windows on his computer, valiantly fighting off the heat rising to his face.
“Saucy,” Sebastian grins lewdly. “You have a confession you’d like to share with the class?”
“Of course not,” Kurt mutters, scrolling over several sample photographs on his laptop. He’ll have to take a better look at them later - right now he’s only feigning distraction to avoid looking Sebastian in the eye, and he probably knows it. “You know I’ve never - ”
“Never messed around with a guy before? Yeah, I know. And I’m not sure why, it’s not like you’re short on selection at your school. That freakishly tall football player I saw once was kinda cute.”
“That’s Finn Hudson. Pretty house, but no one’s home. And he plays for team straight.” Kurt pauses, wondering if he’s gone too far with that last bit. He did use that in a previous argument with Sebastian, after all. “Was there a reason you came down here?”
“Yeah, actually. Mom said to get ready. When your dad gets home from work, we’re gonna go check out the new house.”
“They picked one out already?”
Sebastian shrugs. “They’re looking at a place near St. Rita’s. It’s closer to the tire shop, too. But I don’t know if they’ve signed anything yet.”
“Still in McKinley’s district?” he asks a bit warily.
“I dunno. Probably.”
Oh,” Kurt frowns, debating if a change of district would have been a good thing or not. A new school wouldn’t have Mercedes or Rachel or any of the glee clubbers, but it also wouldn’t have Karofsky.
On the other hand, it could potentially have someone ten times worse than Karofsky, and well - better to be stuck in the hell he’s familiar with than the one he isn’t.
Then they both hear the creak of the garage door opening upstairs. Kurt stands slowly, ignoring the sudden rush of anxiety fluttering in his stomach. “I guess that’s my cue.”
---
The house is like a blank canvas - it’s spacious and clean and open to all sorts of possibilities. There are some minor issues - that linoleum in the upstairs bathroom has got to go, same thing with the hideous chartreuse wall paint in the bedrooms, but other than that, it’s definitely doable.
It’s a little... cold, empty because there’s no furniture, no photographs. It’s still impersonal.
There are no memories attached here like there are at the old house. He didn’t learn how to ride a bike on this street. There were no tea parties with his dad in this yard. He can’t hear his six-year-old self practicing Für Elise on the piano in the formal living room. There are no red stains on the wall from when he drew a flower with his mother’s lipstick.
No, this house doesn’t have any of that. It’s nice and it’s in a good neighborhood - but he didn’t grow up here. It’s not home.
The real estate agent steps back into the foyer to take a phone call, and Burt claps Kurt on the shoulder. “So what’ya think, kid?”
His dad looks so thoroughly sold on this house, and Kurt feels a little guilty for dismissing the place for a little nostalgia. “It’s nice, Dad. I think... this would be a good fresh start for us.”
Burt grins. “Great. Carole’s talking to Sebastian, too - and if we’re all on the same page, then we’re gonna go ahead and put an offer in.”
He probably shouldn’t be as startled as he is by the mention of Carole and Sebastian. They’re part of the family too now - they’re equally involved with the decision-making.
And... honestly he hasn’t really thought it like that. He’s been so preoccupied with the whole wedding aspect of things that he hasn’t really let himself think about the marriage of it all. He’s thought about the titles and labels that are going to change rather than what those titles and labels entail.
It sinks in as he walks back upstairs to his potential bedroom, pointedly not listening to the mother-son conversation going on down the hall.
They’ve all tried the living together thing, and that worked out fine - but how will things change once marriage gets thrown in the mix? Carole isn’t just his dad’s girlfriend anymore - she’ll be the closest thing he has to a mother. Will he cook and talk and bond with her just as he did with his birth mother? Will she have just as much power as Burt does for the whole parenting thing?
And Sebastian - he’s not just his friend and roommate anymore, he’ll be his stepbrother. Will he be obligated to go to his lacrosse games and Warblers performances now? What exactly does it mean to be a brother to someone?
What does it mean to change his family definition from two to four?
He thinks about it, thinks about his dad and what he’d said earlier - we’re all on the same page - and hell, maybe these changes have been slipping by without Kurt even noticing.
Like last week, when he’d asked Burt if they could invest in a stand mixer - Burt had paused and asked if it was something Carole could find use for as well.
Kurt didn’t think much of it at the time and replied that of course she would use it (it’s a baker’s best friend after all) - but it’s only now that he understands what Burt meant.
Would she find a way to use it - because it would be her investment too, not just Burt’s.
The weight of this realization makes Kurt a little dizzy.
What else has he been missing - better yet, what other signs is he supposed to look for? Or what difficulties can he expect?
As it is, there are too many questions, too many uncertainties. He’s told himself over and over - this is a good thing. As long as Burt and Carole are happy, nothing else matters. Everything will work itself out no problem.
At least, until he remembers the spring. His confidence quakes when he recalls how jealous he’d been of Sebastian spending time with his father. If something as minimal as that had caused friction, he can only imagine what else might happen - will happen, knowing his luck.
“You look like you’re hurting yourself by doing all that thinking.”
A teasing voice jars him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Sebastian leaning against the doorway. “Don’t project your shortcomings onto me,” he quips back with an eye roll, turning back around.
“What’s up?” Sebastian joins him at the window, fingers swiping up a faint trail of dust from the sill. “I mean, I’m sure that your view of the neighbor’s tree here is great, but to stare at it for like, ten minutes? Kinda creepy.”
“No creepier than you watching me for those ten minutes,” Kurt says dryly. “And I can’t help it. The parents getting hitched, moving into a new house - it’s a lot to take in.”
“I thought you were happy about it.”
“I was. I am,” he amends quickly.
“There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere...”
Kurt pauses for a long moment before speaking. “But nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me.”
Something about speaking about his hesitations - at least when it comes to this - sets him on edge. As comfortable as he with Sebastian, Kurt’s just not quite there with him yet. Maybe in another year or so, when they’re all settled in the new house and calling each other by those shiny new labels. Perhaps he’ll be more comfortable - and hopefully by then, all of these worries will vanish, and there’ll be nothing to discuss in the first place. “It’s stupid.”
“That’s what you say about everything you don’t feel like telling me,” Sebastian says, and Kurt takes a moment to lament how convenient it is that of all things, Sebastian remembers that particular detail about him. “Try another excuse.”
Kurt knows he’s being a little ridiculous - Sebastian’s going through the exact same situation, so it’s not like he’s the only one facing these issues. That thought makes him feel marginally better. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling,” he says eventually. “And I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to have a mother. I just don’t know what to expect, that’s all.”
Sebastian frowns, giving this some thought. “Does it have to be that complicated? Who says things are gonna change?”
“Just think about it - two adults from completely different walks of life get married, each bringing a teenage boy. It’s sort of a recipe for conflict, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but how weird can things get? We’ve all been living together already - the only thing I can see changing around here is the labels we use.”
“That’s what I thought too, but - ” Kurt cuts himself off with a frown, wondering how to word this properly. “My dad’s already taken on this... ‘we’ and ‘us’ attitude.”
Sebastian looks skeptical. “Sorry, you lost me with that one.”
Kurt gives a dry laugh, turning to lean back against the wall. “It’s hard to explain. Let’s see - in the past, when I would talk to my dad about certain things, he’d only take the two of us into consideration. But now he thinks about all four of us.”
“Doesn’t that come with the territory of living together?”
Kurt shakes his head. “It’s different. My dad and your mom were independent of each other even when we were living together in the summer. It’s a different type of independence now - as in, they operate as a unit rather than two separate people. And they talk about you and me like we’re part of that unit, like - ”
“Like an ‘us’ attitude,” Sebastian finishes, and Kurt nods. “Well, is that bad?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt admits with a resigned sigh. “I wish I did.”
---
“Don’t forget - Friday night dinner is six instead of seven tonight. Carole’s gotta work the night shift.”
Six...? Kurt grimaces. “Sorry, I can’t do tonight. Singalong Sound of Music at the Old Royal Theater - it’s a once a year event.”
“Kurt, those Friday night dinners are like a ritual - we’ve been doing this for, what? Going on four months? And we did it all the time when your mom was still around. You can’t just stop now,” Burt turns to face him, a stern expression crossing his features.
As it turns out, that ‘we/us’ attitude tends to surface at the most inconvenient times. Truthfully, Kurt still struggles to accept the ‘us’ reality - he’d like to hold on to Burt and Kurt for just a little while longer. “Why are you making me feel guilty about this? I’m a teenager, Friday nights are kind of important to me. And besides, there’ll be plenty more opportunities for Friday night dinners.”
“This is more than important Kurt, it’s sacred,” Burt responds, his face softening a bit. “And the point of having something sacred is that it takes priority over anything else you’ve got going on.”
Kurt frowns. “But Singalong Sound of Music is sacred to me.”
“You think I don’t know that? Wasn’t I the one who bought you that Maria bonnet when you were six?” His dad’s tone raises a fraction, and Kurt sighs, trying not to let his irritation seep through. It’s a futile effort. “Look, if we don’t keep doing our Friday night dinners, our lives’ll just pass right by each other, and that ain’t exactly the best start for a mixed family.”
There’s that attitude again - ours and we and us - and while it’s great that Burt’s embracing this situation right away, Kurt’s still having a bit of a time just accepting it. Friday night dinners had been Kurt’s and Dad’s and Mom’s thing, and that was sacred. Friday night dinners with Carole and Sebastian - he hadn’t realized that there was already a ritual attached to those.
And now they aren’t just Friday night dinners with Carole and Sebastian anymore, they’re dinners with his new family - and is it a crime for Kurt to want to preserve the memory of his old family’s Friday nights? He just can’t think of those nights in the context of the four of them when he’s spent his life thinking it about in terms of the three of them - and then stopped treating it as a tradition once his mom died. It doesn’t seem right to remember her like this.
“Sorry Dad, but I just don’t see why I should have to miss out on something I’ve been looking forward to for just another dinner.” It sounds harsh and callous, and Kurt starts to leave before he can say anything he might regret. “Maybe we can do it Thursday or something.”
“I gotta tell you Kurt,” Burt says, stopping Kurt in his tracks, “I’m real disappointed in you.”
The words settle in Kurt’s stomach like a two-ton weight, because it’s his dad’s disappointment - not his sadness, not his anger - that makes Kurt feel like the absolute lowest. But he stands by what he said. Friday nights don’t belong to Carole and Sebastian. Not yet.
As he heads off to school, something that feels like remorse blooms just beneath the weight of that disappointment, and Kurt doesn’t understand what it means. Vaguely he thinks it might just be unease at how their conversation had ended with the words Kurt hated hearing most - but then he figures, he’ll be able to somehow make it up to his dad later.
But he can’t.
Not when he’s sitting in French class insulting Azimio and Mr. Schue comes to the door to tell him that Burt collapsed at the garage.
Not when he’s on the road to the hospital, the back of his eyes burning, his nerves frozen.
Not when he’s in that cold room waiting for what seems like hours for any news.
Not now. And - his throat goes arid at the thought - maybe not ever.
Next
Rating: eventual NC-17
Warnings: AU, stepcest, language
Summary: He’d only introduced Carole to his father so that he could get closer to Sebastian - it was just a simple crush at first. He didn’t expect to become his stepbrother. And he certainly didn’t expect to actually fall in love. Kurt/Sebastian and Kurt/Blaine.
---
“How’s the planning going?”
Kurt looks up to see Sebastian approaching from the foot of the stairs. The coffee table’s littered with checklists, spreadsheets of price comparisons, and flyers from various businesses ranging from florists and caterers to photographers and limo services. His laptop browser’s open to about eight tabs of invitation designers.
“You look... busy,” Sebastian adds, raising an eyebrow, and Kurt laughs.
“Well, I’ve booked the venue for November 20th. That’s always the hardest part, so I like to think of that as progress.”
“I still don’t know why we all can’t just head down to Kewpee for a post-civil ceremony burgerthon and call it a day.”
Kurt shoots him a dirty look. “First off, that’s disgusting. Second off, that’s nowhere near good enough for our parents. Besides, I thought you liked big parties.”
“House parties, not weddings,” Sebastian answers pointedly, sinking down onto the couch next to Kurt. “I can get smashed and hook up with randoms at house parties.”
“Who says you can’t do that at weddings too?” He regrets the words as soon as they escape his mouth, and he abruptly turns to stare at the windows on his computer, valiantly fighting off the heat rising to his face.
“Saucy,” Sebastian grins lewdly. “You have a confession you’d like to share with the class?”
“Of course not,” Kurt mutters, scrolling over several sample photographs on his laptop. He’ll have to take a better look at them later - right now he’s only feigning distraction to avoid looking Sebastian in the eye, and he probably knows it. “You know I’ve never - ”
“Never messed around with a guy before? Yeah, I know. And I’m not sure why, it’s not like you’re short on selection at your school. That freakishly tall football player I saw once was kinda cute.”
“That’s Finn Hudson. Pretty house, but no one’s home. And he plays for team straight.” Kurt pauses, wondering if he’s gone too far with that last bit. He did use that in a previous argument with Sebastian, after all. “Was there a reason you came down here?”
“Yeah, actually. Mom said to get ready. When your dad gets home from work, we’re gonna go check out the new house.”
“They picked one out already?”
Sebastian shrugs. “They’re looking at a place near St. Rita’s. It’s closer to the tire shop, too. But I don’t know if they’ve signed anything yet.”
“Still in McKinley’s district?” he asks a bit warily.
“I dunno. Probably.”
Oh,” Kurt frowns, debating if a change of district would have been a good thing or not. A new school wouldn’t have Mercedes or Rachel or any of the glee clubbers, but it also wouldn’t have Karofsky.
On the other hand, it could potentially have someone ten times worse than Karofsky, and well - better to be stuck in the hell he’s familiar with than the one he isn’t.
Then they both hear the creak of the garage door opening upstairs. Kurt stands slowly, ignoring the sudden rush of anxiety fluttering in his stomach. “I guess that’s my cue.”
---
The house is like a blank canvas - it’s spacious and clean and open to all sorts of possibilities. There are some minor issues - that linoleum in the upstairs bathroom has got to go, same thing with the hideous chartreuse wall paint in the bedrooms, but other than that, it’s definitely doable.
It’s a little... cold, empty because there’s no furniture, no photographs. It’s still impersonal.
There are no memories attached here like there are at the old house. He didn’t learn how to ride a bike on this street. There were no tea parties with his dad in this yard. He can’t hear his six-year-old self practicing Für Elise on the piano in the formal living room. There are no red stains on the wall from when he drew a flower with his mother’s lipstick.
No, this house doesn’t have any of that. It’s nice and it’s in a good neighborhood - but he didn’t grow up here. It’s not home.
The real estate agent steps back into the foyer to take a phone call, and Burt claps Kurt on the shoulder. “So what’ya think, kid?”
His dad looks so thoroughly sold on this house, and Kurt feels a little guilty for dismissing the place for a little nostalgia. “It’s nice, Dad. I think... this would be a good fresh start for us.”
Burt grins. “Great. Carole’s talking to Sebastian, too - and if we’re all on the same page, then we’re gonna go ahead and put an offer in.”
He probably shouldn’t be as startled as he is by the mention of Carole and Sebastian. They’re part of the family too now - they’re equally involved with the decision-making.
And... honestly he hasn’t really thought it like that. He’s been so preoccupied with the whole wedding aspect of things that he hasn’t really let himself think about the marriage of it all. He’s thought about the titles and labels that are going to change rather than what those titles and labels entail.
It sinks in as he walks back upstairs to his potential bedroom, pointedly not listening to the mother-son conversation going on down the hall.
They’ve all tried the living together thing, and that worked out fine - but how will things change once marriage gets thrown in the mix? Carole isn’t just his dad’s girlfriend anymore - she’ll be the closest thing he has to a mother. Will he cook and talk and bond with her just as he did with his birth mother? Will she have just as much power as Burt does for the whole parenting thing?
And Sebastian - he’s not just his friend and roommate anymore, he’ll be his stepbrother. Will he be obligated to go to his lacrosse games and Warblers performances now? What exactly does it mean to be a brother to someone?
What does it mean to change his family definition from two to four?
He thinks about it, thinks about his dad and what he’d said earlier - we’re all on the same page - and hell, maybe these changes have been slipping by without Kurt even noticing.
Like last week, when he’d asked Burt if they could invest in a stand mixer - Burt had paused and asked if it was something Carole could find use for as well.
Kurt didn’t think much of it at the time and replied that of course she would use it (it’s a baker’s best friend after all) - but it’s only now that he understands what Burt meant.
Would she find a way to use it - because it would be her investment too, not just Burt’s.
The weight of this realization makes Kurt a little dizzy.
What else has he been missing - better yet, what other signs is he supposed to look for? Or what difficulties can he expect?
As it is, there are too many questions, too many uncertainties. He’s told himself over and over - this is a good thing. As long as Burt and Carole are happy, nothing else matters. Everything will work itself out no problem.
At least, until he remembers the spring. His confidence quakes when he recalls how jealous he’d been of Sebastian spending time with his father. If something as minimal as that had caused friction, he can only imagine what else might happen - will happen, knowing his luck.
“You look like you’re hurting yourself by doing all that thinking.”
A teasing voice jars him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Sebastian leaning against the doorway. “Don’t project your shortcomings onto me,” he quips back with an eye roll, turning back around.
“What’s up?” Sebastian joins him at the window, fingers swiping up a faint trail of dust from the sill. “I mean, I’m sure that your view of the neighbor’s tree here is great, but to stare at it for like, ten minutes? Kinda creepy.”
“No creepier than you watching me for those ten minutes,” Kurt says dryly. “And I can’t help it. The parents getting hitched, moving into a new house - it’s a lot to take in.”
“I thought you were happy about it.”
“I was. I am,” he amends quickly.
“There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere...”
Kurt pauses for a long moment before speaking. “But nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me.”
Something about speaking about his hesitations - at least when it comes to this - sets him on edge. As comfortable as he with Sebastian, Kurt’s just not quite there with him yet. Maybe in another year or so, when they’re all settled in the new house and calling each other by those shiny new labels. Perhaps he’ll be more comfortable - and hopefully by then, all of these worries will vanish, and there’ll be nothing to discuss in the first place. “It’s stupid.”
“That’s what you say about everything you don’t feel like telling me,” Sebastian says, and Kurt takes a moment to lament how convenient it is that of all things, Sebastian remembers that particular detail about him. “Try another excuse.”
Kurt knows he’s being a little ridiculous - Sebastian’s going through the exact same situation, so it’s not like he’s the only one facing these issues. That thought makes him feel marginally better. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling,” he says eventually. “And I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to have a mother. I just don’t know what to expect, that’s all.”
Sebastian frowns, giving this some thought. “Does it have to be that complicated? Who says things are gonna change?”
“Just think about it - two adults from completely different walks of life get married, each bringing a teenage boy. It’s sort of a recipe for conflict, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but how weird can things get? We’ve all been living together already - the only thing I can see changing around here is the labels we use.”
“That’s what I thought too, but - ” Kurt cuts himself off with a frown, wondering how to word this properly. “My dad’s already taken on this... ‘we’ and ‘us’ attitude.”
Sebastian looks skeptical. “Sorry, you lost me with that one.”
Kurt gives a dry laugh, turning to lean back against the wall. “It’s hard to explain. Let’s see - in the past, when I would talk to my dad about certain things, he’d only take the two of us into consideration. But now he thinks about all four of us.”
“Doesn’t that come with the territory of living together?”
Kurt shakes his head. “It’s different. My dad and your mom were independent of each other even when we were living together in the summer. It’s a different type of independence now - as in, they operate as a unit rather than two separate people. And they talk about you and me like we’re part of that unit, like - ”
“Like an ‘us’ attitude,” Sebastian finishes, and Kurt nods. “Well, is that bad?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt admits with a resigned sigh. “I wish I did.”
---
“Don’t forget - Friday night dinner is six instead of seven tonight. Carole’s gotta work the night shift.”
Six...? Kurt grimaces. “Sorry, I can’t do tonight. Singalong Sound of Music at the Old Royal Theater - it’s a once a year event.”
“Kurt, those Friday night dinners are like a ritual - we’ve been doing this for, what? Going on four months? And we did it all the time when your mom was still around. You can’t just stop now,” Burt turns to face him, a stern expression crossing his features.
As it turns out, that ‘we/us’ attitude tends to surface at the most inconvenient times. Truthfully, Kurt still struggles to accept the ‘us’ reality - he’d like to hold on to Burt and Kurt for just a little while longer. “Why are you making me feel guilty about this? I’m a teenager, Friday nights are kind of important to me. And besides, there’ll be plenty more opportunities for Friday night dinners.”
“This is more than important Kurt, it’s sacred,” Burt responds, his face softening a bit. “And the point of having something sacred is that it takes priority over anything else you’ve got going on.”
Kurt frowns. “But Singalong Sound of Music is sacred to me.”
“You think I don’t know that? Wasn’t I the one who bought you that Maria bonnet when you were six?” His dad’s tone raises a fraction, and Kurt sighs, trying not to let his irritation seep through. It’s a futile effort. “Look, if we don’t keep doing our Friday night dinners, our lives’ll just pass right by each other, and that ain’t exactly the best start for a mixed family.”
There’s that attitude again - ours and we and us - and while it’s great that Burt’s embracing this situation right away, Kurt’s still having a bit of a time just accepting it. Friday night dinners had been Kurt’s and Dad’s and Mom’s thing, and that was sacred. Friday night dinners with Carole and Sebastian - he hadn’t realized that there was already a ritual attached to those.
And now they aren’t just Friday night dinners with Carole and Sebastian anymore, they’re dinners with his new family - and is it a crime for Kurt to want to preserve the memory of his old family’s Friday nights? He just can’t think of those nights in the context of the four of them when he’s spent his life thinking it about in terms of the three of them - and then stopped treating it as a tradition once his mom died. It doesn’t seem right to remember her like this.
“Sorry Dad, but I just don’t see why I should have to miss out on something I’ve been looking forward to for just another dinner.” It sounds harsh and callous, and Kurt starts to leave before he can say anything he might regret. “Maybe we can do it Thursday or something.”
“I gotta tell you Kurt,” Burt says, stopping Kurt in his tracks, “I’m real disappointed in you.”
The words settle in Kurt’s stomach like a two-ton weight, because it’s his dad’s disappointment - not his sadness, not his anger - that makes Kurt feel like the absolute lowest. But he stands by what he said. Friday nights don’t belong to Carole and Sebastian. Not yet.
As he heads off to school, something that feels like remorse blooms just beneath the weight of that disappointment, and Kurt doesn’t understand what it means. Vaguely he thinks it might just be unease at how their conversation had ended with the words Kurt hated hearing most - but then he figures, he’ll be able to somehow make it up to his dad later.
But he can’t.
Not when he’s sitting in French class insulting Azimio and Mr. Schue comes to the door to tell him that Burt collapsed at the garage.
Not when he’s on the road to the hospital, the back of his eyes burning, his nerves frozen.
Not when he’s in that cold room waiting for what seems like hours for any news.
Not now. And - his throat goes arid at the thought - maybe not ever.
Next