“I can’t stand that man, I swear…” Kurt muttered as he unlocked his apartment door and shoved inside, irritated and beyond tired. He’d just been to an audition where he had to read lines with his arch nemesis and wasn’t that just fantastic? How the hell was he supposed to look like a happy love-struck boy when he was staring into the golden eyes of a vulture ready to strike for his still-beating heart? It was impossible.
Honestly, the idea that two men who were vying for the same part would actually read together was a complete joke. This director had no idea what she was doing, and Kurt had told her so as soon as his audition was over. He’d put on his best performance given the circumstances, and he noticed that Anderson was just as flustered, but still. He hadn’t been able to give one-hundred-percent and that, quite frankly, pissed him off. Kurt Hummel was the best and he never performed as less.
This needed to stop. He needed to get Anderson out of his damned spotlight. That light belonged to Kurt and Kurt alone! Coat hung and shoes put away, Kurt finally let himself sigh out his frustrations, gathering a glass of fine red wine and padding his way to a pristine white couch. He perched on said couch with his sleek laptop on his lap, opening the machine and booting up his favorite social media site.
Tumblr was his little secret sanctuary. Kurt Hummel was just some famous diva as far as it was concerned. He was blogged about, but ‘PorcelainDreamer’ had all Kurt-related tags purposefully black-listed. Dreamer, as his tumblr friends called him, also had any tags related to that-horrible-tramp-who-stole-his-roles blacklisted. He mostly followed blogs about old Hollywood, music as an artform, fashion (new and old), and the occasional LGBTQ+ issue.
He’d grown more open-minded as he grew up, which would make the younger Kurt cringe, but this Kurt was proud of himself. He’d learned to accept more people if he wanted to find acceptance himself, and he worked hard to find the roles that could cause the right kind of stir, too. That was why it made him so damn angry that Anderson kept fighting him for roles. Kurt wanted to make a difference here. The specific roles were really important to him! Why couldn’t this idiot just… be some run of the mill star and play Prince Charming for a year plus run or something? That would be so much easier…
Kurt sighed again and started clicking around on his computer. It wasn’t time to focus on his work anymore. He was de-stressing right now. He wasn’t Kurt, he was Dreamer. And he had some messages to answer.
Some would call it torture to ask someone to actually choose between a custom-made bow tie and a vintage actually-worn-by-Brad-Pitt fedora, you know. But I’d have to go with the bow tie. Even if I do have a billion of them. I just… I’m weird about sharing hats. It’s the sweat issue, man. I just can’t get over it.
Also, it is not fair that I’m always the one sending the asks. You get more characters. Unlimited, even. I have to sit here with the counter ticking down on my character count. Not. Fair. Anyway… You choose: Katy or Gaga!
He’d developed this friendship with Courage a while ago and it just kind of… stuck. They were very similar in many ways, though they were also very different. The ways they were different were actually the best ones, because they fed conversations that kept Kurt bouncing in his seat even while he sipped his wine and pretended to be a real adult. At almost twenty-seven, he supposed he really should be more of an adult, but, well, sometimes he just didn’t find himself able to crack down and be grown up about everything.
Sometimes he just needed to relax and play some old Disney tunes on Spotify while he replied to his more ridiculous followers.
People like you are the reason nobody appreciates music as an art form. You make it seem totally gay. Go away, or go post on the broadway part of tumblr.
He didn’t even bother replying to that ask. The ‘block’ button was an easy click, and that person was banned from his blog. Instead, he posted a little image of a cat ignoring the world captioned ‘haters gonna hate’ with a satisfied smile.
He started typing away a response to the latest message from Courage, then, posting it before looking through more of his dashboard.
Also, it is not fair that I’m always the one sending the asks. You get more characters. Unlimited, even. I have to sit here with the counter ticking down on my character count. Not. Fair. Anyway… You choose: Katy or Gaga!
All's fair in love and… ask boxes? I don’t know, Courage, but you started this, so it serves you right. Or something. Anyway…
I can definitely relate to your opinion on hats. There’s something distinctly gross about sharing hair follicles. Or sweat. Or anything else that might be involved in another human’s head. I’d have to know you /really/ well to share your hat, is what I’m saying. My hair is a very precious creature and does not deserve such treatment.
Your question is an easy answer, though. Gaga all the way. I don’t just push limits, I shatter them. Funny story, but I once dressed up in a Gaga theme in my high school glee club and this jock almost murdered me for it. My not-yet-step-brother actually stepped in and saved my ridiculously faux-brave ass that day. *le sigh* He’s a strange, yet beautiful soul.
Oh, and there’s a look into the real me. Shame on me for divulging such things! (as if anyone from back then would even be on here seeing this and noticing this post- as if) Anyway, now it’s your turn: lyrics or musical score?
#callitcourage #hard questions #gaga for gaga #about me #who ever said I was fair?
“You have no new voice messages.” It was the third time Blaine had hit the stupid button on his answering machine. And he never got calls on the landline in his brownstone. Why he thought they would call that number instead of his cell phone, he had no idea, but dammit, he needed that call! He needed that role.
He knew from the moment he locked eyes with the pale countertenor of his nightmares that he was doomed, though. He’d only beaten Kurt out for one role in the past five they’d competed for. Of course, two of them went to neither of them somehow, but still. Kurt had the upper hand and Blaine didn’t like it. He didn’t like how fucking talented the guy was and he couldn’t stand how fucking gorgeous he was either.
It was like the universe just wanted to torture Blaine, giving him such a man for a rival. “He’s just impossible, though. That personality kills any charm. If he’d ever stepped foot in Dalton’s halls he’d have been eaten alive…” he muttered, shoving his cat off the counter without a care before hearing her mewl sadly and shaking himself from his rage-fueled daze.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Baby,” he cooed at the animal, named for the character in Dirty Dancing and thus never placed in the corner. Well, except when she was using her litter box. That was decidedly hidden away in a corner. Still, Blaine cherished his precious Baby. He felt horrible for being so careless with the brown tortoise-shell tabby. “Daddy loves you. Daddy just doesn’t love a certain Kurt Hummel, is all…”
He leaned down and picked up the purring bundle of fur, still so small though she was full grown at three years old. She’d been a present to himself when Blaine got his first real role on Broadway. That was before he realized just what he was signing up for, before he realized that he was entering a constant battle with the queen diva himself. Blaine sighed, setting Baby back on the counter and pulling a saucer from his cupboard, pouring her a bit of milk to make up for the way he shoved her even though she’d already forgiven him, apparently.
“If only directors were as easily impressed as you are…” he mused, petting the cat before grabbing a bottle of water for himself and wandering into his living room where his laptop was charging. He needed to veg out for a bit. Today had just been the bad kind of stressful and if he wasn’t about to get a call about a casting decision, he really needed to lose himself in his other identity. Hopefully Dreamer had already replied to his messages sent early in the morning before he headed out for his hellish audition…
I’m officially cheating because I’m tired of character limits, @PorcelainDreamer! (besides if you don’t have to play fair I don’t either, yeah?)
You keep hitting me with hard questions! It’s so not fair… So first I’ll address your answer. Of course you’re a Gaga. I mean, it seems totally obvious, but I had to check. I’m sure you’ve figured out how much of a Katy I am by now. Works out nicely though, no? I mean, we complement each other well. ;)
Oh god. Now I’ve set us up for some weird tumblr following and a ship name, haven’t I? I’m so sorry in advance. The first time someone comes to your ask talking about the good ship CourageousDreams, please promise you won’t hate me?
Aaaaanyway… Lyrics or score, right? That’s so hard! Okay, well… I think if you’re really good, you can get the emotions and message of the song through in just the music, and I have dabbled in composition myself so… I have to go score.
And there’s a tiny little tidbit about me for you, too. I can’t say my brother ever did anything awesome for my composition skills, though. He mostly just made it more obvious that I wouldn’t be writing any lyrics since he made fun of them any time I tried… Wanna trade? :P
Your choice is… socks: yay or nay?
#PorcelainDreamer #hard questions #CourageousDreams #it’s a thing now #don’t fight it
It was only a matter of ten minutes before the first ask came. Blaine giggled as he read the first and another popped up, then another, then a comment on the post he’d made as well.
‘OMG CourageousDreams is totally a thing now!’
‘Yesssss, I ship it! #CD for short!’
‘Dreamer is going to be so pissed at you now… Haha, I’m dying!’
He was sure he’d have a message from the lovely Dreamer soon enough, but that was fine. He’d come around. Blaine was sure of that. For now, though, he needed to get some dinner for him and Baby, and he needed a shower to wash away the defeat of the day. By then he might have something new to reply to…
Kurt did get around to replying late that night after a few glasses of wine, drunkenly sending an ask to tell Courage that he was in no shape to answer a question with any sort of dignity, but that he was both concerned and flattered by their apparent shippers.
He also might have gotten a bit overly flirtatious and fed the fire of the whole ship thing, but he would later maintain that he was not responsible for anything that occurred while he was under the influence of a good red wine. It was obviously also the wine’s fault that Kurt fell asleep on his couch and woke up with a crick in his back and a pounding headache when he needed to show up for a callback in… shit. Less than two hours. And he needed to take the subway.
Hurrying through his morning routine, Kurt managed to swoop his hair up as best he could in a dignified messy coif, shrugged on some designer slacks, blouse with rolled sleeves, and a vest that outlined the masculine cut of his waist, then ran to the subway without even realizing he’d forgotten socks before slipping into his boots. Shit.
It was a day of swearing already and he just barely entered the theatre. Of course he ran into the idiot who was Blaine fucking Anderson. The gorgeous, talented, stupid, spotlight-stealing idiot who almost knocked Kurt right over in his haste to get into the same damn door the countertenor had been aiming at.
“Ugh. Of course it would be you. Just my luck…” Kurt muttered, shoulder-shoving the shorter male aside and opening the door for himself, not bothering to hold it for his competition. “I don’t see why the hell you even showed up here. You know you won’t get the part. I’m much more talented, plus the lead girl is taller than you.” He smirked as Anderson’s face grew red with humiliation and rage. Oh, this was fun.
Kurt wasn’t a generally mean person, but he was very catty. He’d learned from the best, after all. If Rachel and Santana had taught him anything during their whole loft experience, it was how to be a proper bitch and a diva. He shook his head with the judgmental smirk still in place. “You look like a hobbit, Anderson. Why don’t you just go home to your cat and nurse your wounded pride, hmm? Leave this to the big boys.”
Reaching out to pat the gelled down hair, Kurt was slightly taken aback when his wrist was caught and bent back uncomfortably, but not hard enough to injure. “Don’t touch me, Hummel,” he gruffed, dropping Kurt’s wrist with force and glaring hard at him. “I’m just as talented, if not more, and I deserve this role just as much as you do. Don’t get in my way.”
Hazel eyes pierced blue before Anderson shoved his way into the theatre before Kurt, making the brunette swallow hard before following. This was going to be a really shitty day. And he already had blisters on his heels and soles of his feet thanks to forgetting socks. Dammit. Why couldn’t he have gone to bed last night like a normal human and gotten up on time that morning? Why couldn’t he have someone like Courage in his life to keep him on some actual schedule instead of sipping wine and surfing the ‘net in a lonely tailspin toward depression?
Kurt seriously needed to do something about his life outside of work. He was starting to feel pathetic. And if there was one look Kurt Hummel could not pull off, it was ‘pathetic’.
This does make a bit more sense than ask box abuse, hmm? Can’t believe it took us this long to resort to tagging each other to avoid character limits, @callitcourage.
Now that I am sober, I don’t hate you, but I don’t particularly like you either at the moment. My askbox is full of shippers now. I didn’t even know we had so many mutual followers. Where the hell did you all come from, hmm? you don’t even know anything about us! Hell, we hardly know about each other… But, back to the questions.
A composer, hmm? That’s interesting. I’m very curious now, Courage. I find lyrics speak to me more than the music, but that might be because I’m a singer, myself. Whoops, there go my fingers giving away personal details again… Bad fingers! Bad!
Socks are a definite yay for me. In fact, I forgot to wear them today with my boots. Bad. News. Now my feet are covered in blisters and I am in SO MUCH PAIN. Argh. Time to distract myself, which means I’m about to blow up your askbox with copies of all the ridiculous crap these crazy shippers have been sending me. ;) (I say ‘crazy’ in the nicest way, I promise!)
Time for you to choose! This time it’s a choice of two evils… stuffy nose or sore throat? (I’m actually asking because I think I injured my throat singing today and it’s a serious problem… I think I might run out of tea and honey soon! :( Tragedy!)
#callitcourage #CD? Really? #hard questions #pain #feel bad for me
Before I send the asks, here’s a link to the debate they’re having right now about us: broadwaybb(.)tumblr(.)com/post/1548792/2bcum1-rainbwrights-courage-captains I mean, I think rainbwrights is the one who we need to watch out for. Mutual follower, convinced she can be your first mate on the ship CourageousDreams… I’m concerned. :P
They’ve been adding to that text post. You should track it. In fact, track the tag ‘CourageousDreams’. It’s getting ridiculous. Seriously. We don’t even know eachother! These people are crazy. ...right? I mean… *sigh* I need to send a fanmail for this. It’s gonna get… long.
So, I guess you’ll have this to hold over my head for as long as you keep it, since fanmail stays until you hit that little ‘delete’ button or whatever. But I really just need to like… get this out there. I mean, we don’t KNOW each other. We know each other, though. Right? We’ve been playing this question game for months now. We’ve been commenting on each other’s stuff for even longer. I just… I feel like I know you. But I only know you as Courage, which isn’t even a name. I mean…
I just feel kind of stupid I guess. I’m insecure? I’m letting you in more, again, and I promised I’d never do that on this website. This is my escaping place. But I just… you just… You make me want to tell all my secrets and get to know you and… I want to MEET YOU so bad, but I just can’t do that. I’m sure you understand, right? You’d never like me in ‘real life’ anyway. Nobody really does…
Well, I mean, a few people do, but not many who I could stand to be around all that often. My best friend and my brother… step-brother… they’re really the only ones I spend quality time with. I dunno. I’m not a likeable person. I’m bitchy and I’m difficult and… yeah. I’m just not easy to deal with.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess I just… I like you, okay? I mean, we know where we stand on the sexuality spectrum thanks to the LGBT etc. stuff that pops up around here. I haven’t had a boyfriend in… oh god. Longer than I should admit. And the last serious boyfriend I had was in college and he was just… not someone I could stay with, you know? But you… you seem like someone I could be with. And that’s totally weird because I don’t even know your damn name! I just feel like I’m insane right now.
I’m sorry. I’m just gonna stop now and leave you alone, okay? I’m creepy. I’m creepy and stupid and you can sink that ship now if you want. I won’t blame you. Promise. Alright. Um… I hope you’ll still answer my question. I… really look forward to our silly ‘hard questions’ each day.
Blaine refreshed his messages but still didn’t find any of the ‘ridiculous messages’ Dreamer was supposed to pass along to him. It seemed the other male lost his nerve when he sent that fanmail. He shouldn’t have, though. Blaine felt so similar and now he didn’t have to worry about being a creeper. He’d given them a damn ship name, for God’s sakes! How could Dreamer ever think he was the odd one?
The thing he wasn’t looking forward to was work from the next day on until this production was finished. He’d lost the male lead to freaking Kurt Hummel, of course, but he’d gotten the highest supporting male role, which happened to be his adversary. Well, it worked for them since they hated each other and played that same role in their daily lives, but it was still exhausting and irritating. Especially since Kurt was so much more obviously gay than Blaine was.
If anyone should be playing lead men who got the girls it should be Blaine.
Alas, he just had to play the annoying guy who happened to stab the hero once or twice in the ribs before he got run out of the country. Yes, that part Blaine actually looked forward to. And who was to say if he ‘accidentally’ thrust the fake sword too enthusiastically and bruised his co-star’s ribs? He couldn’t be blamed for an accident…
Rather than focusing on his job or the problem that was his rival, Blaine focused on his computer. Baby tried to get his attention, but he nudged her away from the screen and keys so that he could type while she nuzzled against his chest and face. He had to ease Dreamer’s fears, after all. It was very important to Blaine that the guy knew he felt similarly, even if it was true that they just couldn’t meet. Fame was… a problem. Blaine sighed and got to work on a fanmail of his own.
First of all, I came up with our ship name. You are so not the creeper here. And fanmail is a good way to get around the character limit when we’re talking privately, huh? I like this. Plus it looks like I’m sending you a letter or something. That fits my aesthetic well…
I get what you mean, Dreamer. I mean, we don’t know names, but we do know each other. I think we actually know each other better than we would without the anonymity. I’m not this open with people ‘in real life’ as they say. And we know the basics. We’re both gay men, both in our 20s, both appreciate music and vintage styles… I feel like we actually know quite a bit about each other. Who cares what others would think? I consider you one of, if not my very best friend.
Meeting would ruin the anonymity and I’d totally clam up then and everything would just be shot. So I don’t think that’s a good idea. Plus, you know, real life me isn’t nearly as… impressive. You think you’re difficult? I have a cat who loves me. And my best friend from high school who likes to pop up just to bother me for the hell of it. Other than that… Well, I was a little too focused on classes to make many friends in college, and I was too worried about success to make friends at work before work got to be… difficult.
Life is difficult in general I guess. I really like you, though, Dreamer. And for now that’s good enough, yeah? So basically we’re good, and now I’m gonna stop the word vomit here and actually answer your ridiculous question. Alright? Alright. Love you bunches!
Alright, @PorcelainDreamer… I hope your throat is feeling better. Seriously, I don’t think I even want to know what you’re doing on the daily to hurt yourself so much. You must be the most awkward human ever. I hope you soaked your feet while you were nursing your throat though…
Okay, I’ll stop being your mother now. :P I can’t believe you are such a sock advocate, man! I am so a sock nay-sayer. Seriously. My feet have to breathe. I don’t really wear much but my Sperry’s, though, so…
Anyways, back to the choice you gave me, which, really? That’s mean. I’m going to have to give you evil choices now! Right, but I have to say I’d rather have the sore throat simply because you can treat that with tea, as you mentioned, and lozenges, and you still have your voice and pitch and such. With a stuffy nose you just sound like utter crap and that gets in the way of work.
Which I don’t talk about on here.
So. Your choice is gonna have to be… would you rather be forced to listen to a rant from an anti-vaccer or a WBC activist? Keeping in mind there is no violence allowed. Arguing is okay, I suppose. That’s at your discretion. And I’m so not choosing one of those, so don’t even think you’re getting some insightful answer from me!
#PorcelainDreamer #hard questions #we’re getting evil now #CourageousDreams #<3
Somehow, Kurt survived a whole week working with Anderson without killing him. Or starting any fights. He came close a few times, but he bit his tongue and kept thinking up answers to the ridiculous questions he’d received from Courage. So far that week, they’d discovered that Kurt would much rather listen and argue with anti-vaccers than deal with people screaming ‘fag’ in his face (because who wanted those high school memories thrown in their face again, hmm?) while Courage preferred pancakes to waffles. Kurt confessed to having a knack for making pancakes, then admitted to liking vegetables better than meat, even if that made him weird.
Their questions had obviously gotten less evil, mostly because the evil ones took too much thought and seemed less fun somehow. Courage had asked about sports last, and Kurt was trying to figure out whether to mention his time as kicker in high school.
He was jarred from his own mind when Anderson jabbed him extra hard in the ribs with the blunt tip of his stage sword.
“What the fuck, Anderson?!” he screeched, holding his side and glaring hard at the man. Everyone in Kurt’s life (both real and virtual) seemed on edge the last couple of days. Courage had posted about his brother stopping by unannounced and crashing at his house and putting him in an antsy mood, and Anderson had been extra aggressive. Kurt was just about over it all.
The other man made a face and shook his head, looking and sounding annoyed. “What, Hummel? You’re supposed to get stabbed. Can’t very well react to it if you’re lost in your own empty head, can you? Pay. Attention.” He thrust the sword at Kurt again, who dodged it and growled.
“Oh, wait till I tell Courage about this. He’ll never believe me. Who the hell believes a guy got fucking stabbed at work?” he muttered to himself, but Anderson clearly heard him, or at least heard something, because his eyes went wide and he… bolted. He just left. Kurt blinked and stared in the direction his co-star had just ran off in before shrugging and deciding that meant work was done for the day.
Good enough for him, since he needed to ice his ribs now. That sword might be blunt, but it fucking hurt. And Anderson wasn’t some lightweight when it came to attacks, either. Kurt wondered briefly if the guy was trained in some form of fighting… He escaped the theatre quickly, heading home for some wine and that ice. Maybe he’d be lucky and not get a bruise. Oh, and he needed to message Courage too.
The confusing thing, though, was that Kurt wasn’t the first to send a message. When he got home and settled on his couch with some wine and a heating pad (he was too cold for ice, dammit), he booted up his laptop only to find his tumblr lit up with new messages. There were five new ones, only two of which were silly things about this whole ship nonsense. The other three were… from Courage?
Kurt scrolled through them, mouth falling open as he read. Fuck. Everything was not okay, and nothing was as it seemed, and… fuck. He proceeded to drink a whole bottle of wine, not remembering anything he did during the time he drank the last quarter of the bottle and waking up drooling on the couch with tumblr open on the laptop on the floor.
Okay, shit. I think… I think I need to tell you something, but I don’t think you’re gonna react well. I mean… I didn’t. I fucking ran away. God, and now I’m swearing. And I never swear. Coop gets so mad at me that I won’t even fight properly with him… it’s just. Fuck, man. I… I don’t know how to say this and not ruin everything. Fuck. I’m just not gonna say anything, dammit. I… I can’t. God. Call it courage my ass. I’m a fucking coward.
Okay, I’m forcing myself to just say it because it’s eating me alive and I just… I can’t do this to you. I have to be honest. I’m an honest guy by nature. And I know you think I’m a jerk. Well, the real me. I know you do. Cause I thought the same about you, but… fuck. Kurt. You’re Kurt. I know because you mentioned me today. When I fucking stabbed you. This is Blaine. Anderson. I… oh fuck. I’m sorry.
This is the last message, I swear, I just… I needed to explain myself and that fucking character limit, you know? There I go swearing again. Coop would never believe this was me if he read these messages. Then again, he wouldn’t believe the mess I got myself into either, so there’s that.
Listen, Kurt, for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you today and I’m sorry I never told you who I was and I’m sorry we had to find out this way and… fuck. I don’t know. I just… I thought you were a jerk because of our… rivalry or whatever. But Dreamer is… god, he’s everything. And he’s you. That means you’re everything, right?
I fell hard, and I don’t think I can just stop falling because I know who you really are. I mean, I think I know you better as Dreamer than anyone knows you as Kurt, right? I know you know more about the real me from our talking here than anyone ‘in real life’ knows.
Fame steals the right for anyone to really get to know you, you know? We got away from that with the anonymity. I don’t… I don’t want that to all go to waste just because we’re in the same industry…
You probably don’t care. I fucking stabbed you. I mean, why the fuck should you care, right? I’m a jerk. I’m conceited and I don’t deserve this open friendship that we’ve built. I’m just… I’m so fucking lonely, Kurt. And I look forward to every message and every silly question and every interaction with you on here. You filled that void for me that’s been empty for… ages. I don’t want to lose that. Is that so bad?
I’m just really sorry. For whatever that’s worth. I wanted you to know.
And, so you know, the only reason I knew it had to be you is because you called me ‘Courage’ and you were complaining about your throat… and you were walking funny from the blisters. Once the name slipped out, it just all clicked. I’m not like… some super creeper or something. Just oddly observant.
Please don’t stop talking to me. I… I really like you.
i’m relly drink. drunk. which is the only reason im messages you right now. don’t thik this actually meansa nything andrson. i don’t like you. your the competitoin and youare a… a jekr! fuck. wine is sttttttttttrong.
i don’t like youa nd i never will and you shouldn’t hav sent that nice message becasue you make me feel things and si don’t wana feels things for you. you sonaof a bithc. how bout you just go back to beiang nothing but coaurge and i’ll be dreamerl and we can just go back to not knowing and better.
i relly liek you too and i sodn’t want to. i’m not sposed to like you blaine. i cant fall in olove with my competion. so… fcuk you. just leave me alone. i can’t dela with you and this and… i just cant.
Blaine read the message a few times, deciphering the parts that were badly botched in the obviously wasted state Kurt had been in. He figured the countertenor had no idea he’d even sent the message, since those disappeared once sent and he’d been that drunk. It would be mean to mention it, so he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t mention anything to Kurt. He wouldn’t push the other man. He’d just… leave him alone. Like Kurt asked in his drunken stupor.
Because Blaine didn’t want to hurt the man any more than he already had managed. And he didn’t want to hurt himself anymore, either, if he could help it.
Showing up to the theatre the next day, Blaine tried his best to ignore Kurt’s paler than usual complexion and the way the other actor didn’t remove his sunglasses the entire time they rehearsed. He also kept his voice lower than usual in an attempt to not make Kurt’s head pound any harder, though he wasn’t sure if the brunette noticed, or cared. He just… wanted to take care of the man. And if the only way he could do that was to keep his voice down and offer some Advil during the first break, well, that’s what Blaine would do.
They didn’t talk about it at all. In fact, they didn’t talk at the theatre or on tumblr for the next three days. Their first day off from work was spent with Kurt relentlessly reblogging fashion items and conversing with everyone who wasn’t Blaine, blatantly ignoring anyone who mentioned the CourageousDreams ship and its sudden lack of appearance.
Blaine spent his time reading what Kurt wrote and writing lyrics to sad songs that had yet to be written. Every now and then he’d post some of them, hoping Kurt might react, but he didn’t. He got some new followers thanks to the lyric-posting, but he didn’t get anything from Kurt, so he just felt all the more hollow.
Baby mewed at him for attention, and Blaine cuddled her for a bit, murmuring about how he was happy to at least have her in his life, then giving her some milk and grabbing a beer for himself. He rarely drank, but Cooper had left over half a case of beer in his fridge when he left as unexpectedly as he had shown up, and Blaine was in the mood to drown his sorrows.
Kurt read every post Blaine made. He listened to every sad song in his itunes, then found more. He called Finn and told him that he’d fucked up, got a pep-talk, then drank a glass of wine and cuddled up with a carton of ice cream.
He didn’t know what to do.
There was no easy answer to what was happening. He hated Blaine Anderson! They fought for roles, they insulted each other, they drove each other crazy. But… Kurt loved Courage. He loved that man who blogged about dreams and wishes and hope. The man who answered silly questions with the utmost honesty and promised Dreamer that he wasn’t some fool for having dreams. Kurt adored the man who came up with a silly name for them even though they didn’t know each other, because he felt that comfortable with him, with Kurt. No, with Dreamer.
But Dreamer was Kurt, and Kurt was Dreamer, and Courage was Blaine and… Kurt loved him. How could he possibly love the man he called his biggest rival? How could he adore the man who gave him a bruise the size of a fist on his side that still hurt when he twisted his torso? Well, he’d never gotten to know Blaine, had he? No. Kurt had gone into things hating the man just for being after the same things he wanted. How was that even fair?
They were so damn similar. No wonder they wanted the same roles. They both wanted to change the world however they could, and they had a way with music, with performance. They were both stars. It was only natural that they’d want the same things, chase the same dreams. And that really wasn’t such a bad thing, was it?
Kurt sighed and opened his tumblr, thinking about how awkward the next day at the theatre might be. He vaguely remembered sending a message to Blaine when he was drunk, but hoped that was just some lucid dream. It didn’t matter either way, though. He was going to send this message, and he was going to just go for it. “Close my eyes, and leap,” he muttered to himself, then started to type.
I think that’s the most important thing I can say right now, Blaine. Wow, that’s weird to call you. You know, in all this time we’ve known each other I don’t think I’ve ever called you by your first name. That kind of shows you how much of a jerk I’ve been, hmm?
But I am sorry. Really and truly. The thing is, I got scared when you told me who you were. I freaked out. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. I told you before, I’m not the nicest person in ‘real life’. I’m not easy to get along with and I’m not surrounded by lifelong friends. There’s good reason for that. I get blinded by my own ego and my need to succeed and rise above everyone. Blame it on growing up bullied or losing my mom at a young age, I don’t really know, but I’m just… a bitch. I am. It’s usually something I’m proud of, but in this instance… I’m not.
You’re right, though. We got to know each other here. Without all the stress or complications of work, fame, or images or pride. I have been more honest and open with you than I’ve ever been with anyone, probably even Rachel, which would kill her since she thinks she’s my confidante.
Blaine, I do care about you. In fact, I think I might have already fallen very hard and fast for you. And that absolutely terrifies me. I’ve been trying to be better than you and beat you down for so long. How am I supposed to deal with the fact that I might… dare I actually say the word love? I might love you. I’m pretty positive Dreamer loves Courage. And they’re us, aren’t they?
It’s all just kind of confusing and overwhelming, you know? I know I’m just throwing all this at you and it’s probably ridiculous and you can hate me now if you want. I won’t blame you. I’ve been an ass. But, I just want you to know… You broke down my walls and you scare the shit out of me and that makes me want to try. Whatever this is, I mean. I want to try whatever you want to try. I don’t want to just… go back to life before courage. I kind of like being a little braver…
“I just wanted to make sure, but you weren’t like, secretly drunk but typing perfectly or something last night, were you? I mean, you remember the message you sent me, right? Because if that was sent in some delusional state or something I really shouldn’t do what I am about to do because I’m pretty sure you’re the type to slap someone for assaulting you and that’s what you’d probably call an unwanted kiss and I-” Blaine was cut off from his rambling when Kurt grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed their lips together, connecting in a passionate kiss that held no restraint from either of them. They’d restrained themselves enough over the months of communication online. Now, they were free to act as they pleased.
Kurt pulled away slightly and Blaine blinked his hazel eyes open, panting as a small smile grew on his lips. “Hi,” he muttered, leaning in and dropping a peck on Kurt’s slightly puffy lips.
Grinning right back, Kurt used his other hand to tuck a loose hair back into the gelled state Blaine had it in. “Hi.” He kept his other hand on Blaine’s neck as his free fingers slipped down his face, cupping his cheek as their eyes locked. “I remember the message, and I meant it. And I’m sorry if I assaulted you, but I had to do something to shut you up,” he teased, forcing himself to pull his hands away and straighten his clothes.
“So, I guess we’re gonna give this a try, then?” Blaine asked, hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he opened the door to the theatre for Kurt and followed him inside.
Kurt just smirked and hopped onto the stage, feeling energized and excited. “I guess we are. But,” he tossed the blunt sword to Blaine and quirked a brow. “If you stab me again I get a free hit at you. That fucking hurts, got it?”
Blaine laughed so hard he fell over, earning him a lecture from the director, then they were in full swing at rehearsing. The lines went smoother and they worked together so much better now that they weren’t fighting each other anymore. It seemed this… whatever it was might work out afterall.
It’s been almost two weeks since this secret thing started, and we discussed it, and decided it was time to share. You’ll have noticed that the ‘hard questions’ posts between myself and @PorcelainDreamer have been happening less often lately. We used to answer each other every day, but it’s been… well, a few days in between lately I guess. I know some of you noticed because you’ve asked each of us about it.
How do I know you’ve asked Dreamer? Well…
The CourageousDreams ship has sailed, oh dear followers! That’s right. Dreamer and I are together. And I don’t just mean on here. I mean, we actually found out we know each other in ‘real life’ and… well… *insert smiling blushing face here*
We are still staying anonymous on here for you guys, though, so don’t even go there, okay? Okay. Now that that’s out there…
I believe it’s my turn to choose between… coffee or tea? Coffee. Medium drip with sugar and cinnamon, to be precise. Not that you don’t already know that, babe. ;) Your question is… dinner out, or homemade in? For scientific reasons, of course.
#CourageousDreams #life update #my boyfriend is better than yours #love life and happiness
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