Kurt Hummel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
showbizpanache) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 10:16 pm
showbizpanache) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 10:16 pm
Entry tags:
My love has concrete feet, my love's an iron ball
WHO: Klaine
WHEN: Sunday evening.
WHERE: The B.C.
WHAT: It seems like things get really good right before they get bad again. Kurt notices that he and Blaine are missing a lot of money and wants to get to the bottom of it.
WARNINGS: Fighting. Drugs. :C Who knows what else. I'll edit if I need to.
Sundays were Kurt's favorite day of the week. He just loved the feel of them, how fresh and light and relaxed everything was, and he woke up bright and early to make everyone breakfast before heading into the City for some shopping.
He'd learned to be more frugal since he'd quit his job at Felton, so rather than spend his Sunday afternoon splurging on designer clothes he hit the thrift stores to do some bargain hunting. He couldn't resist a new pair of boots that he saw through a shop's window on the way, though, but he needed those--and the jacket he'd seen in the shop next to it, of course, since he knew it would look perfect on Blaine.
That's it, he told himself sternly, and was quite proud of his newly found self-control as he ignored every tempting sale on the way home. He stopped at the grocery to buy some things for dinner, and was rather surprised when his card was declined. He frowned and tried it again, then moved out of line to check his bank account.
He had to stare. Where the hell has our money gone?, he asked himself, completely bewildered, and opted to use cash for the groceries and figure it out later. When he returned to the apartment he made some more calls, putting dinner off while he tried to figure out what had gone wrong with their budget.
Something wasn't right.
WHEN: Sunday evening.
WHERE: The B.C.
WHAT: It seems like things get really good right before they get bad again. Kurt notices that he and Blaine are missing a lot of money and wants to get to the bottom of it.
WARNINGS: Fighting. Drugs. :C Who knows what else. I'll edit if I need to.
Sundays were Kurt's favorite day of the week. He just loved the feel of them, how fresh and light and relaxed everything was, and he woke up bright and early to make everyone breakfast before heading into the City for some shopping.
He'd learned to be more frugal since he'd quit his job at Felton, so rather than spend his Sunday afternoon splurging on designer clothes he hit the thrift stores to do some bargain hunting. He couldn't resist a new pair of boots that he saw through a shop's window on the way, though, but he needed those--and the jacket he'd seen in the shop next to it, of course, since he knew it would look perfect on Blaine.
That's it, he told himself sternly, and was quite proud of his newly found self-control as he ignored every tempting sale on the way home. He stopped at the grocery to buy some things for dinner, and was rather surprised when his card was declined. He frowned and tried it again, then moved out of line to check his bank account.
He had to stare. Where the hell has our money gone?, he asked himself, completely bewildered, and opted to use cash for the groceries and figure it out later. When he returned to the apartment he made some more calls, putting dinner off while he tried to figure out what had gone wrong with their budget.
Something wasn't right.
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"I don't mind if you need to buy things, Blaine, but you're supposed to tell me about it if it's a big purchase like this. I thought we agreed on that." Had they? They'd been pushed into this--partnership, was that what it was called?--far too quickly, and no one had ever taught them how, not really, and... He sighed, folding his hands in his lap, feeling anxious.
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He avoided answering what he used the money to buy. That would end up being a direct lie and it made him sick to think about it. "Look, I'll get the money back, okay? You don't have to worry." He sounded a little defensive, almost hostile, as they got closer to him having to really explain himself.
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He regretted it the instant he said it, but he was too annoyed, panicking too much that Kurt was going to find out the truth, to even think about backing down or apologizing.
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"I have a stash of baking supplies that I use," he said softly, deeply hurt by Blaine's words. Blaine knew perfectly well that stress-baking was one of only a few ways Kurt coped with trauma. "Why are you being such an asshole?"
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Blaine wasn't even sure where this was coming from. Sure, he was upset about how inadequate money made him feel. He had never had to worry about it before and now suddenly he had to face the fact that he had to pay bills and remember to put in the rent check on time. Still, that didn't mean that he had to jump down Kurt's throat for worrying about it. He still felt attacked about this, as if Kurt was trying to get him to admit where that money had really gone. He couldn't be though, he didn't know... Did he?
"Who cares if the dishes haven't been done, or if we have to budget a little tighter? We died and you still act like I should care that we're missing a dollar here or there. Honestly, who gives a fuck?"
Blaine usually tried not to use that word, but he was so angry, so uncomfortable with what he was saying and how he was feeling, so panicked that Kurt would confront him about the pills, that he was grabbing at words like they were his life line. His emotions just felt so intense, too much for him to handle, and they poured out of him enough that the table started to shake and the pictures Kurt had put up on the walls threatened to fly off.
He couldn't control it. He just wanted to lash out. Yelling at Kurt had to be better than letting him know the truth...
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"What's wrong with you?" he said finally, his voice small but very firm. "Why are you acting like this?"
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He jerked up then, getting out of his chair and moving to grab his jacket. "I'm sorry that I can't give you everything you deserve. I'm sorry that I keep letting you walk all over me whenever things get difficult. I try so damn hard to be what you want me to be, but it's never good enough for you, is it? I'm never good enough next to whatever Prince Charming fantasy you have."
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"Where are you going?" he cried, getting to his feet and following Blaine.
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"I don't know," he admitted after a moment. He was still angry, still defensive. "I just can't be here right now. I'm sick of feeling like I'm failing you and it's pissing me off, okay? I don't trust my powers around you right now."
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"Fine," he said finally, tears hot on his cheeks. "Just go. And don't come back anytime soon, because I don't know if I can trust myself to keep from throwing a box of tortellini at your head."
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Blaine moved to leave then, slamming the door as he left.
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He whimpered and finally broke down, sinking down onto the couch to curl up and cry. Distantly he noticed that he was sitting next to his shopping bag from earlier, and he reached in a trembling hand to pull out the jacket he'd bought Blaine that afternoon. Looking at it just made him cry harder, and he held it close as he thought about the sweet boy he'd met on the staircase and wondered where he had gone.