Kurt Hummel ★ GLEE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justbeingaqueen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
leavinglima2012-09-11 01:26 am
justbeingaqueen) wrote in leavinglima2012-09-11 01:26 am
"Dirty little secret."
Who: Santana Lopez and Kurt Hummel
What: Survival Celebration and Sordid Secrets
Where: Kurt & Santana's apartment, New York
When: Just after the end of summer
It turned out that Kurt's Hot Dog of Doom was more like Hot Dog of the Gastrointestinal Apocalypse. He had been so sick, with his body completely betraying him from all angles, that Santana ended up dragging him to the nearest ER where he had to spend a few hours on IV fluids for dehydration and they pumped him full of anti-puke medication and Imodium. It was only after that did Kurt manage to finally get some rest. Before, he kept being woken up by his stomach that it made it near impossible to rest. Santana dragged him back home in a cab, he crawled into his bed wishing like hell Blaine could be there to snuggle him, and crashed out in a deep sleep. And he pretty much slept for almost three days straight, save for getting up to go to the bathroom and getting bottles of Gatorade into him when he still had no interest in touching food ever again. Santana had just left him to it, staying close to make sure he didn't die in his sleep.
He had no finally re-surfaced, flopping out of bed and shuffling into the kitchen of the little apartment he shared with Santana. His pyjama pants had slipped down over his hips to reveal the top of his butt cheek and when he found Santana in there making coffee, he yawned, rubbing over his face sleepily with one hand whilst hitching his pants back up with the other. He was less than fabulous-looking right now, hair all in a disarray and crease marks from his pillow up the side of his face. He had paused only long enough at the bathroom to pee and quickly brush his teeth, but he was sure he had still be half asleep for that. On the upside, despite feeling weak in the wake of the food poisoning, the nausea seemed to have abated and in its place was just a sore stomach from the strain of throwing up.
He dropped down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I didn't die," he announced, voice husky from sleep. "And apparently Puck nearly had to handcuff Blaine to a bed in Lima so he wouldn't get on a plane here right before school's about to start. I woke up to 73 text messages from Blaine. I think his next step might have been carrier pigeon."
What: Survival Celebration and Sordid Secrets
Where: Kurt & Santana's apartment, New York
When: Just after the end of summer
It turned out that Kurt's Hot Dog of Doom was more like Hot Dog of the Gastrointestinal Apocalypse. He had been so sick, with his body completely betraying him from all angles, that Santana ended up dragging him to the nearest ER where he had to spend a few hours on IV fluids for dehydration and they pumped him full of anti-puke medication and Imodium. It was only after that did Kurt manage to finally get some rest. Before, he kept being woken up by his stomach that it made it near impossible to rest. Santana dragged him back home in a cab, he crawled into his bed wishing like hell Blaine could be there to snuggle him, and crashed out in a deep sleep. And he pretty much slept for almost three days straight, save for getting up to go to the bathroom and getting bottles of Gatorade into him when he still had no interest in touching food ever again. Santana had just left him to it, staying close to make sure he didn't die in his sleep.
He had no finally re-surfaced, flopping out of bed and shuffling into the kitchen of the little apartment he shared with Santana. His pyjama pants had slipped down over his hips to reveal the top of his butt cheek and when he found Santana in there making coffee, he yawned, rubbing over his face sleepily with one hand whilst hitching his pants back up with the other. He was less than fabulous-looking right now, hair all in a disarray and crease marks from his pillow up the side of his face. He had paused only long enough at the bathroom to pee and quickly brush his teeth, but he was sure he had still be half asleep for that. On the upside, despite feeling weak in the wake of the food poisoning, the nausea seemed to have abated and in its place was just a sore stomach from the strain of throwing up.
He dropped down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I didn't die," he announced, voice husky from sleep. "And apparently Puck nearly had to handcuff Blaine to a bed in Lima so he wouldn't get on a plane here right before school's about to start. I woke up to 73 text messages from Blaine. I think his next step might have been carrier pigeon."
no subject
But Quinn... Quinn was a different story, and Santana wasn't even sure when it had happened. There had to have been a moment, before they ever got to the point of actually sleeping together, when Quinn had come to mean something to her that she hadn't known or anticipated. You didn't just cheat on your other half with someone you didn't even know was gay when you didn't have some sort of reasoning behind it. She and Brittany hadn't actively been having problems. But something in her had clearly been telling her that their relationship wasn't the right thing for her. And had it been more than that? She had to think that over a little more. But after a few moments of sitting there in silence, she had to look at Kurt, tears starting to fill her eyes, because this was a huge thing to realize. "I haven't... I haven't stopped thinking about her since it happened. And not just on an, 'Oh, shit, I cheated on my girlfriend,' level, but... Worrying about her. Wondering if she was okay, or if she was as confused as me, and not knowing whether or not I should text her or call, because I didn't want to make things more confusing and just..." Her voice broke a little as she turned her hand over to squeeze Kurt's. "Kurt, I want her. I want to figure all of this shit out with her and try to fix it."
no subject
He nodded. "All that aside, she's still your friend. If you have been wondering about her and thinking about her, you should get in touch. Friendship shouldn't be taken for granted, and she's away at Yale all on her own, coping with all these changes in her life without any room mate she knows she keep her company and reason it out for her when she can't," he said pointedly and gave her a small smile. "I'm going to take a shower, because I'm gross and I still smell sick. Then I'm going to Skype Blaine and tell him how much I love him. Perfect time for you to email... book a train ticket..." He got up from the table and gave her a nod, hoping she would take the blatant hints.
no subject
Then Kurt was not so subtly laying it all on the line, and Santana knew better than to argue. He was right on every count, and she knew it, whether she wanted to admit it or not. After a moment or two, she stood up from where she was seated, and moved to pat Kurt on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I... I might not be home this weekend. I'm not sure yet, but I might go to New Haven. I think... I think you're right. It's a train ride away. And Quinn shouldn't be alone."
no subject
He got up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You know you want it. At the very least, talk to her. You'll know in your gut and your heart if it's right. Talk it out, don't bitch at each other. Now is the time to break the old habits and explore if there is anything deeper there," he said wisely and then gave her a little wave to head back to his room to talk to Blaine. He was missing him like crazy and he probably wouldn't surface until they spoke for at least a couple of hours.