Fic: Shatter The Walls For A New Sun {Prologue}

so, I debated posting this, because on Friday I am leaving on vacation and won’t have internet access and won’t be back for 10 days. the next part won’t be up until probably close to OCTOBER. if you aren’t okay with that, don’t read, though I do have an outline and a plan and once my life is done being crazy, things should run smoothly. I’m not cross-posting anywhere else, consider it a little teaser for you tumblr peeps. 

AU in which Blaine was raised by highly religious parents and escapes to NYC with Quinn, moving in next door to Rachel and Kurt. Based on this spoiler pic for tomorrow night’s ep, and the very first line, which I cannot take credit for, as aelora said it to me about said pic. no spoilers for the fic aside from the pic, if you want to click on it, and where Kurt is working if you’re still living under a rock about that. ~2100 words. PG-13, but the rating’ll go up.

“He’s kind of dressed like he should be outside my door with Bibles in hand asking if I want to be saved. I’d let him in to save me and teach me the word of God.” Kurt quirks an eyebrow to imply to Rachel that their new neighbor, who they are spying on through their large window, wouldn’t be the only one doing the saving and teaching.

Rachel sighs dreamily and leans up against the windowsill, sipping her morning tea. If they were woken up early by noise on the stairs, the least they can do is admire the view.

“Do you think maybe he just saw The Book of Mormon too many times or something?” she inquires as they watch the young man in the tight white short sleeved shirt and even tighter maroon pants grab a suitcase from the battered sedan and set it on the sidewalk next to what they presume to be their other new neighbor, a petite girl with blonde and pink streaked hair in a sundress and giant sunglasses, who normally would be quite the topic of discussion as well, but she doesn’t have bulging biceps and tight clothes. “They look so lost! Well, him more so than her, but both of them seem pretty clueless.”

“Do you think we should go down and offer to help?” Kurt asks, finishing off his own tea, and Rachel gives his own outfit a once over. After a year at Vogue, his clothing choices are never less than impeccable, especially on his Saturdays off. Brocade pants might not be the best choice for assisting a move-in, but the off-white shirt he’s paired it with, rolled to the elbows, shows off his own shapely arms, and the cravat he chose for the day brings out the green in his eyes. “I could change,” he offers, and Rachel scoffs.

“And give them anything less than the Kurt Hummel best? Not for a first impression! Come on, I want to see those guns in person,” she teases, taking Kurt’s mug from his hands and walking them both to the sink.

By the time they arrive outside, more bags and suitcases are unloaded from the car, the girl watching as the guy continues to unload the packed sedan. “Hello!” Rachel offers cheerfully as they both pause, turning to face her. “We’re in 3A, and I take it you’re moving into 3B? It’s the only vacant apartment in the building and we couldn’t help notice all the commotion and thought we’d come down to see if we could offer you any assistance.”

The guy’s eyes flicker back and forth from Rachel’s face to Kurt’s, looking concerned and hopping up the curb to join them next to his presumed roommate. “Oh, I hope Quinn and I weren’t being too loud! I know it’s early on a Saturday.” He locks eyes with Kurt as he says it, and he just looks so crestfallen, Kurt bites back the snarky comment he was going to make about beauty sleep.

“Of course not! I’m Kurt Hummel, and this is Rachel Berry, and you already seem much more enjoyable than the previous tenants,” Kurt replies, offering his hand to the man standing in front of him, who wipes his hand on his thigh (tight, tight, oh god, why are his pants so tight?) before shaking it and doing the same for Rachel.

“Low standards to live up to then? Sounds promising, B,” the girl says with a bright smile, offering her own hand to Kurt. “My trusty driver and heavy lifter here is Blaine Anderson and I’m Quinn Fabray, and normally, I’d hate to impose, but we drove almost straight through from California, and we’re kind of loopy.”

Kurt pauses to look at them both again more closely, hoping they at least stopped at a motel last night, because otherwise, it’s a sin for both of them to look that put together and unwrinkled. “Oh my god! How long did that take you?” Rachel asks, and he sees her shocked expression out of the corner of his eye.

“Five days, so it was not straight through, Q. We were only in Pennsylvania last night. We luckily were able to find couches to crash on along the way. We were worried there for a while we wouldn’t be able to.” The look Blaine gives Quinn is a practiced one of exasperation and annoyance, and Kurt wonders how long they’ve been friends. He bets anything she’s rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. “And you all don’t have to help! I’m sure you have all kinds of things planned for this fine Saturday.”

“Nothing that would stand in the way of hospitality,” Kurt replies, and what is he saying? It’s late August in New York City - which means, it’s goddamn hot, okay? But perhaps if he gets to follow Blaine up the stairs each time (how had he not noticed his ass before in the pants?) …

Blaine tilts his head a little as if he’s unsure what to do with either of them, before nodding and telling them each to grab a bag since the car is mostly unloaded. “So, Quinn, Blaine, what brings you to our wonderful city?” Rachel asks with as much charm as possible once they’re back inside with the cool of the AC, trudging up the stairs, and at least Kurt won’t have to work out all week after this.

“I’m starting at Columbia in a few weeks,” Quinn says as they round the corner for the second set of stairs. “I actually got in last year, but - well, I ended up deferring a year and staying in California and working and saving up money, but it all worked out, because Blaine was able to come with me this year so I didn’t have to come alone.” She smiles warmly at him as they reach the third landing and he returns it, fishing in his pockets for the keys and unlocking the door to 3B, which proves to be an exact replica of Kurt and Rachel’s apartment.

“And what about you, Blaine?” Kurt asks as they pile everything they brought up in one of the corners neatly, and he watches him fidget momentarily before facing him again.

“Ah - I don’t have that worked out yet exactly. It was a last minute decision coming, so.” He offers Kurt a small smile, but Kurt feels awful for asking, as if he’s asked something personal far too early, and quickly switches the subject.

“You know, Rachel and I were in the same exact boat a year ago,” he says quickly, glaring over at her, and thankfully, she catches on, nodding emphatically. “Rachel had gotten into the school of our dreams, NYADA, and I, unfortunately, had not, but I ended up coming to New York anyway with barely any plan, and now I have an internship at Vogue, which I love so much more than I ever would have loved NYADA, by the way.”

“He really does, he’s so amazing at it,” Rachel says, and Kurt’s not sure if she’s just turning up the praise for their newfound neighbors, but he’s touched.

“So anyway, my point is - it’s New York! You’ll be fine.” He smiles back at Blaine, and Blaine’s smile becomes a little more genuine at his words.

The NYADA comment brings up the fact that they all can sing, Blaine and Quinn both mentioning that they used to sing both in their school and church choirs (and okay, Kurt is starting to think his earlier suspicions may have been more spot on than he anticipated), so they keep the conversation light, talking about music tastes. Every once in a while Blaine throws out a name Kurt doesn’t recognize, and Quinn furtively whispers, “Blaine, they don’t know who that is,” and he moves the topic to someone more mainstream. Kurt tries to remember the names to google later, but it’s just so damn hot, and honestly, his mind is more focused on other things. Like the way the cuff of Blaine’s shirt cuts across his arm when he lifts a suitcase off the floor.

Finally, everything is inside and it really didn’t take long at all with four people as opposed to just two - a sedan can only hold so much. Rachel suggests they move to 3A where they have cold bottles of water, and everyone shuffles into the apartment next door. “Are you guys going to go furniture shopping today? It’s still early!” Rachel asks, because everything they brought up was personal effects.

Blaine and Quinn exchange a look. “We’re going to wait for my student loan check to buy furniture. We have money saved, but we don’t want to run out. I have an air mattress to sleep on, and Blaine swears up and down he can sleep on the floor until he finds a job and can buy a futon to crash on, though we argued about it the whole way here.”

Kurt and Rachel’s expressions must show complete shock, because Blaine is quick to respond. “Hey, you said yourself it’s New York! I’m sure it won’t take long to find something, right?”

Kurt quickly finds his voice and changes the subject to what else they do need, because it doesn’t seem as if either of them have been to New York City before. They talk for a while longer, Kurt and Rachel sharing secrets about the neighborhood that they think Quinn and Blaine might find useful, before the pair finally excuses themselves to go unpack.

After they’re gone, Rachel says, “They seem delightful,” to which Kurt replies, “I think we should offer to let Blaine sleep on our couch.”

What?” she screeches in response. “Kurt, we barely know these people! And while they seem very nice, they seem to be running from something. What if they’re running from the mob? And we invite Blaine to sleep in our house?”

Kurt heaves a huge sigh. “Rachel, if Blaine was running from the mob, he wouldn’t be running to New York. I just - I feel bad for him for some reason. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. I think we should offer. He had to pass a background check to live here, you know.”

“This is worse than that time I wanted to bring home that kitten,” Rachel pouts, and she’s right, because he hadn’t let her win that one. He’s totally got this in the bag.

Ten minutes later, he’s knocking on 3B, hoping to not make a fool out of himself.

Thankfully, Blaine answers the door, because if Quinn had, he’d probably have tripped over his words. “Oh, hey Kurt. Is - is everything okay?” Blaine asks with a puzzled expression, because they’d been apart less than twenty minutes.

“Yeah. Of course! I just - Rachel and I were talking, and since you don’t have a place to sleep, if you wanted to sleep on our couch until you’re able to find work - I have accidentally slept on the hardwood floors here before after a long night out, and it’s awful on your back, let me tell you.”

Blaine doesn’t laugh at his joke, just looks vaguely confused, and awesome. Things are just … awesome. “Or, you know, I’m just being a creepy neighbor, but! The offer is there if you want to take us up on it. Don’t feel like you’re imposing.”

“Kurt,” Blaine finally says, and his expression softens, looking truly touched. “You - you guys don’t have to do that.”

“I know. But, we’re offering. You can always see how tonight goes and let us know tomorrow, if that makes you feel better.”

“I think - I shouldn’t leave Quinn our first night here,” Blaine says, worrying his lip and glancing over his shoulder where she’s going through one of the bags, sitting on the floor crosslegged. “Can we buy you breakfast tomorrow morning as a thank you for today and I’ll let you know, though? Coffee and bagels? You have to show us the best bagel place around.”

“It’s a date,” Kurt says before catching himself, because oh god, he’s pretty sure Blaine isn’t even gay with all of the mixed signals he’s throwing. “I mean - that sounds perfect. Ten o’clock?”

Kurt’s pretty sure he sees Blaine’s eyes darken at the mention of a date; he’s also pretty sure he’s gone insane from heat exhaustion. They exchange goodbyes and Kurt heads back next door to actually get his day started far, far later than he intended, but not minding much at all.