anyway i DO want roman to be the one who takes "if i don't do this i might die" seriously

and after he has his little mourning period with Gerri Drinks etc realizes what that means and has an Oh Fuck moment

then breaks into kendall's penthouse apartment MID OVERDOSE

and then roman gets to save kendall for once

Jealousy - Hank Anderson x Reader

Re-posting because Tumblr didn’t let it show up in the tags...

Anonymous requested:  “Can you please write some jealous!hank x reader? Or some Hank x pregnant!reader fluff?”

(I tried to keep this as gender neutral as I could, sorry if there are mistakes!)

Warnings: Language, alcohol use.

Hank Anderson should not be one to judge about public intoxication – and he was not judging. He was worried. This was so not like you.

Connor had been the one you called and that stung. He tried his best to swallow down that jealousy, he really did, but he was so hopeful to come in and play the hero for you. There was something about you that just made him want to play protector, but he knew you’d hate that.

Yet you still called Connor when you got drunk tonight and it was obviously not a call to Hank. Whatever the Hell that meant. What you and Connor had was a friendship and he needed to let that go.

“Hank, they’re at Crazy Matt’s,” Connor’s voice interrupted him as he grabbed his keys from his desk, shouldered on his coat.

“Glad they answered for you,” was Hank’s only response.

“That didn’t happen. Location services are still on their phone. I…noticed from the social media post that was made.”

“Great detective work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go get my ass handed to me by your bff.”

Connor had a date tonight and Hank couldn’t help but wonder if your outburst was due to that little fact. Naturally, Hank’s only date was with a bottle when he got home so Connor called in a favor. Of course, he was glad to do it – the three of you were pretty inseparable after you’d met.

So here he was speeding toward Crazy Matt’s to pick you up. Too fuckin’ bad, you didn’t want company. Pain in the ass…

In the small parking lot, he noticed your car wasn’t there and he was instantly cussing because – damn it – if you dipped to another bar, he was going to have to chase you around this city all fuckin’ night.

He slammed the car door harder than necessary and stormed his way toward the entrance. Crazy Matt’s was a pretty seedy place and he hated that you went there. Apparently, you knew the owner or some shit.

Eyes scanning around the bar, he grumbled to himself.

“Can I get ya somethin’?” the dark-haired man behind the counter greeted him.

Hank ignored his interest in what was on tap. “Do you know Y/N?”

The idiot let his expression change, yet responded, “Who wants to know?”

“Look, it’s been a long night, and I’m a friend,” the term stung something in him and the thought he’d like to drown in alcohol. “I just need to know they’re okay.”

He nodded. “Saw them go out back a few minutes ago. Left their drink so I’m sure they’ll be back.”

Hank tapped the bar, nodding in thanks as he glanced at what you’d been drinking.

There was a lot to be said about Hank, but he was not a patient man. A few seconds and he was back outside, glancing down the side alley.

What, had you gone to hook up with somebody? Fuckin’ a…

The sight shocked him.

“Y/N!?” he jogged over because it was all he could muster.

You stopped momentarily, looking breathless and disheveled and…damn it, alluring. But his eyes were instantly on your bleeding knees.

“What the fuck happened?” he almost pulled out his gun just in case something was amiss.

You waved him off, patting him on the shoulder and he stilled at the touch. “Guess I’m not great at running while inebriated,” you answered simply.

“And you were running because…?” during his question, you held his shoulder, balancing so you can pull off your shoe and get the gravel out.

He wanted to wrap his arms around you but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Some jackass stole my wallet,” you waved it in front of you, clearly having gotten it back. You weren’t too flustered but the blood was dripping down your knees and it kinda stung.

You stumbled a little when getting the shoe back on and he was forced to hold you upright, your shirt having slid up just the slightest and his thumb pressed against your bare skin. Hank inhaled sharply, moving his finger as soon as he noticed.

“I’m taking you home,” he responded gruffly.

“Fuck off,” you pushed your hand against his chest but it did nothing to move the big man. “I’m not going home.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re bleedin’ all over the place. I’m leaving and you’re coming with me.”

“No,” you pulled from his grasp, stumbled a little, still feeling your drinks. He caught you and his grip was surprisingly soft considering his voice was gruff.  “Hank,” you muttered, grabbing onto his jacket and sliding your hands up to the collar. You watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed hard. “I’m going in to finish my drink.”

“The drink on the bar?” he managed to question. At that, you nodded. “Yeah, no you’re not.”

“Hank!” you were about to debate with him when he interrupted you.

“-Be pretty stupid ‘a you to leave a drink unoccupied for so long then down it. You know better than that.”

You smiled at that; glad he wasn’t arguing with you for once.

“Then buy me another one, Lieutenant. Let’s enjoy the night.”

Your tone of voice stirred something in Hank and he struggled to speak something coherent for a moment, his mind traveling to some impure thoughts.

“Yeah, sure.”

•••

Hank needed a drink, but didn’t expect to have one at a seedy bar tonight. He’d bought a bottle and was ready to tell everyone else to fuck off on this Friday night, but the change of plan wasn’t terrible.

The anxiety he felt at the moment was overwhelming. It wasn’t often that the two of you were alone, Connor playing a big part in the times you spent together and you both were very aware of that. But you’d become fast acquaintances and he’d grown to enjoy your company.

“Thought you were goin’ to clean up,” he nodded at you as you stayed right beside him at the bar.

“Eh, sure, I will. They got a deal goin’ on tonight,” you wriggled your eyebrows.

“Oh yeah?”

“Two shots for the price ‘a one.”

“Shots?” he repeated.

“Yeah. So…you’re my whiskey guy, aren’t ya?” you nodded at the bartender and ordered some.

“Christ…” he muttered, wiping a hand down his beard.

“Aw, come on, Hank, I know you’re always drinking alone. Live a little,” you gripped onto his jacket again, looking up at him with those eyes and, fuck, was he done for.

“Fine,” he grunted when the glasses come. You clinked the glass with him, smirked, then both slammed back two shots.

The burn was so welcomed right now, he needed something to rid his clouded mind.

“How about you get us another drink?” you sauntered off to the bathroom to wipe off your bloody legs.

And, fuck, what was he doing? He knew you and Connor would go out sometimes, knew the boy wonder didn’t drink with you and you’d sometimes make a comment that Hank should join. He avoided it. Because it was you. Because he knew what he would be like with alcohol around you and, damn it, he couldn’t let his guard down because he’d end up saying something stupid and chasing you off and the three of you would stop spending time together. Not to mention you’d end up doing just what you did tonight – calling Connor over him.

By the time he watched you wander back out of the bathroom, he was halfway done with his drink and had ordered another.

That Matt guy had stopped you and you were chatting with him, laughing at something he said. He knew you two knew each other, but how well and…well, how? Guy seemed kinda seedy, just like the bar.

Not to mention, he started touching you – hand on your shoulder, the two of you started walking toward the bar – and he slung his arm around your neck, kissed your temple, smiling the whole time.

You didn’t seem to mind, but that made Hank mind even more. What the Hell was he doing here? He’d told Connor he would come pick you up, not sit here and watch you find someone to hook up with.

Only you found the table he’d grabbed for you, came back with another round of shots.

“On the house, apparently,” you shrugged. He took one. “Oh, no, you get both. Any more, I’ll be on the floor.”

Hank could handle his booze pretty well, sure. Only he hadn’t really eaten today and the speed that the two of you were drinking…he was buzzed already.

“I need food,” you voiced, reading his mind. “Split a burger and fries with me?”

Hank swallowed back the last shot. “Sure, yeah.” You grabbed a waitress, ordered something. He felt a little loose, a little less anxious. “So, Connor’s date tonight…”

You smiled. “Oh, yeah, how do you think that’s gonna go?”

He’d meant to cast that line, hook you in, pick your brain, but you gave him no indication of discomfort.

“You first.”

You sipped your drink. “I think it’s good he’s getting out there. Proud of him for acting on his feelings, yanno?”

Hank nodded at that, contemplative. “You have anything to do with him finding the courage to ask them out?” That would tell him…

You smiled shyly. “Perhaps. Why, Lieutenant, did you miss your opportunity?”

Hank chuckled at that. “Fuck no. Plastic prick…” he trailed off. “So, what’s got you all fucked up tonight?” he blurted and then, “shit, I’m sorry. That, uh, that voicemail to Connor…”

You were surprised by that, though you knew he was blunt. “No, it’s fine. I…just long week. Stupid shit at work, tired of biting my tongue when people wrong me. Just…felt like I needed a night to be in my feelings.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just really fucking dull, aren’t I?”

“Hank…why…” you looked concerned for a second. “why do you say that?”

Maybe it was the shots talking or the kindness you showed him, but he admitted, “Thought you…maybe had feelings for the kid.”

“What!?” you almost spit out your drink. “Hank, he…he’s like a brother to me, that’s pretty fucked.” You laughed and he was glad he hadn’t pissed you off, seen your fire. He knew it was there.

“Ah, I’m fucked so don’t act too surprised.” He downed the rest of his drink.

“Cheers to that,” you clinked your glass with his and drank.

“You come here often?”

“What is that, some shitty pickup line?” you laughed and he noticed your eyes flash to his mouth.

“Well, no, just…curious. What’s up with the owner?” he couldn’t help but ask.

You leveled your gaze with his. “Hank,” you started to which he hummed, acted casual. “I’m sensing a pattern here. You worried? Competition?”

“Wh-what?”

You winked at him. “You got nothin’ to worry about, old man. We just gotta leave before…” you glanced at the bar, expression changing.

“Before…?” his slightly-more-than-buzzed mind was slow to the take, that and the flirtatious air about the conversation was giving him some ideas, stirrings in his gut…

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?” you mumbled with a sigh. “They…uh…do this thing…” you started looking under the table and Hank was slow to the take, pressing his arm over his lap as your eyes scanned down there.

“What the fuck?” he felt his cheeks heating up. “Y/N?” Seconds later, you pulled a pink sticker out from under the table. “What the fuck?” he repeated.

“Oh, God…”

A voice came over the loud speaker by the karaoke setup, announcing, “You know what time it is, folks. If I could please have everyone look under their tables for a sticker…” the announcer gave the crowd a second and people around them followed instructions. “Here at Crazy Matt’s every Friday at 8 we do a nice little ice breaker. Hold your stickers high if you’re one of the five lucky tables.”

Y/N sat perfectly still and Hank felt a sense of dread but also…some excitement. You kept looking a little lusty toward him. A waitress was coming by each sticker table and dropping off some salt and limes and vodka…

Oh, shit…

“Don’t be shy, Y/N,” a voice called. Matt, the owner, walked over. “Soon as I saw your friend here sit down, I knew it was gonna be a show…come on, partake. Live a little. On the house.”

“Y/N?” Hank asked tentatively. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“Body shots,” Matt answered instantly. “Every Friday at 8, we treat our guests – if they sit at the right table. Little ice breaker, some free shots, good company…” he eyed Y/N. “I’ll gladly take your place if you’re…”

“No,” Hank found himself answering instantly, to your surprise. The thought of him licking salt off your body, drinking a shot off your skin…Hank had enough of this jealousy bullshit but he was not going to sit idly by.

Matt raised his hands up, nodded, walked away as the waitress dropped the supplies off.

“Hank, you don’t have to…”

“Nah,” he waved it off. “I…why the fuck not? Live a little, right?” he quoted that asshole, was for sure pretty far gone to be agreeing to this, his heart pounding harshly in his chest.

The announcer talked them through the steps as the waitresses cleared off the tables. When was the last fuckin’ time he’d done somethin’ like this?

You looked tentative as the waitress took your hand, helping you up on the table. Hank looked at you, gazed at your body as you laid back, tried to keep his mind focused on something else and not how you looked sprawled out in front of him. The alcohol let his mind wander. And then your hand halted the waitress and Hank’s mind cleared.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Hank, you are not drinking a shot out of my bellybutton,” you laughed, glancing around at the other customers doing just that. He didn’t know how to respond so he just stood there looking stupid, feeling stupid for agreeing to this if you were just gonna back out. Fuck, he put himself out there just for you to turn his ass down… You grabbed the salt shaker and looked up at him. “Well? How do you think that salt’s gonna stick, Lieutenant?”

It took him a second to register, but he nodded, grabbing the shot glass the waitress brought over. Slowly, he watched you lift your shirt, saw the exposed skin, almost groaned. You handed him the salt shaker and watched with eager eyes as he dipped his head down toward you. The sensation of his facial hair registered first and then his soft lips pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your abdomen. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, biting your lower lip.

Your fingers almost forgot to fumble for the plate of limes, but you managed to as soon as he started sprinkling the salt on you and then his mouth was back to lick it off your skin. You moaned against the lime in your mouth, unable to hold back.

Hank smirked a little, stood up, took the shot. As he swallowed, he leaned down to get the lime, his mouth lingering over yours before biting into the thing, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Annnd switch!” came the announcer’s voice before Hank was even done.

He pulled back quickly, stood straight, pulled the lime from his mouth, then helped you back off the table.

“I, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“My turn,” you chuckled, stepping close to him, pressed your hands to his belly.

“I am not showin’ my shit in here,” he stopped the trail of your hands toward the hem of his shirt.

You shrugged. “Suit yourself,” and instead moved your hands to his collar, pulling it down slightly.

Before Hank knew it, he felt your lips on his neck, tracing your tongue over the sensitive skin, nipping a bit.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, completely aroused at that point.

You sprinkled the salt on the spot then inched up to put your mouth back, flat tongue lapping it up. It ended before he wanted it to and his half-lidded gaze watched as you slammed back the shot.

Fuck.

He grabbed the lime, put it in his mouth, felt like a complete idiot. When he turned back to you, he felt your hands grip on the back of his head, dipped to meet your lips, stopped himself from grinding his body against yours at this close proximity.

Your lips were on his, no shame, no ghosting like he’d done, full-on around the lime, kiss…

You bit the fruit, pulled it from his mouth, tossed it on the plate at the table, then pulled him back in for another kiss.

Hank felt like the floodgates had opened. Fuck, had he thought about what it would be like to kiss you…

His fingers gripped at your hips, pulled you into him, mistakenly let you feel his erection.

“Hank…” you pulled back from the kiss, traced your hands down his torso.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Your order,” came a voice and, go figure, it was that Matt guy holding their burger and fries. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

And there it was, perfect timing for you to pull away from him, slap him, call him a pervert for getting so worked up over this…

“Can we get that to go?” you asked Matt and Hank couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded.

“Uh…yeah…I…yeah,” Matt scurried off.

“Too much?” you asked, gnawing at your lower lip.

Hank felt like his jaw was on the floor still. “I mean, this…you…”

“I’m done being in my feelings, Hank, so I’ll be very forward: I want you. This ends one of two ways tonight and both of them I need to leave.”

Hank felt bold for once tonight. “What are the options?” his voice was deeper, laced with flirtation, arousal. He stepped closer to you to hide his erection in case someone was looking.

“Either I go home alone, cold shower, play with myself to get you off my mind…or you take me home, we eat this together, and see where the night takes us.”

Hank never thought he’d leave half-empty drinks at a bar but on this occasion, he gladly raced out with you in tow: dinner in a to-go box, whiskey half-drunk next to the tip on the table.

So maybe you weren’t lying – you weren’t into Connor after all…

A Cup of Something Better

Ch8: The Safety that Saturday Brings

Hank became a regular. Most weekdays he came in the afternoon, but on Saturdays he came in the morning and spent most of the day at a corner table either writing in a notebook or typing on his laptop. Coming up to order drinks when his concentration began to wane. He grew on all the baristas, quickly becoming a cafe favorite. He exchanged easy banter with North and she loved it. He'd talk philosophy with Josh, Connor hadn't seen customers do that before. Simon talked with him about he would like to write children's stories someday, and Hank encouraged him to start. Markus didn't work with them anymore, having graduated from the nursing program and found a job as a home care nurse; but when he and Hank happened to be in line together they would talk ethics or politics while they waited on their drinks.

On the off chance that he came in on a week day morning, he and Connor exchanged small talk and tiptoed aroind one another blatantly ignoring the elephant in the room. That was how he learned Hank was an author, he wrote historical fiction and on a rare occasion sci-fi. He used the pen name Henry Anderson and Connor definitely hadn't bought a few books to try out. Hank also had a dog, his name was Sumo and he was a Saint Bernard.

"Another dog for your mug," Hank had said with an easy smile.

Hank had gotten to learn somethings about Connor too. Although a twin, he was technically the oldest of three siblings, and he clung to that technicality tightly. He was taking his test for the nursing program at the end of the semester in hopes of getting accepted come the start of the new term. Connor didn't have a dog, yet, but he did have two fish. A beta named Flourish and an angel fish named Louis. They had established a routine, found their footing on a tentative middle ground. Connor's crush had worsened and his coworkers loved teasing him about it. Especially now that there was only three weeks left in the semester.

It was Connor's day off and despite that he found himself at the cafe anyway, though he was studying this time. He'd arrived a short time ago and had set his bag down at a table then got in linento order a drink and a pastry to get his study session underway. There were better ways to spend a Saturday he supposed, but he wanted to do well on his nurses exam.

"I never thought I'd see you on this side of the counter," Hank's voice came from behind him and Connor just about jumped out of his skin.

"It happens sometimes," Connor said, putting a hand over his chest to try and calm the rabbit foot pace his heart had taken, "I'm studying for my nurses exam and I'd rather do it here than at home."

"You know days off are for taking a break right?" Hank joked as they moved forward.

"I am taking a break, I'm getting a coffee," he said lightly before stepping up to the counter, signing 'Large Americano Please,' and then verbally because he had almost forgotten, "oh. And a cranberry citrus scone too, please Simon."

The blonde behind the counter rolled his eyes, "You're only ordering that so you don't get lectured for not eating."

Connor didn't reply, he didn't have an argument. He paid for his things and headed to the far counter. Hank joined him shortly after waiting out his own drink.

"Taking a break to order coffee is hardly a break," Hank remarked with a teasing half smile, "mind if I join you at your table?"

Connor froze for a moment, temporarily going stiff with panic before he collected himself, "sure. It would be nice to have the company."

Simon was smirking when he handed Connor his drink, probably having overheard part of their conversation. When this got back to North she was going to have a field day making fun of him. He stood back by Hank to wait on his scone.

"So why nursing if you don't mind me asking," Hank inquired turning to face Connor a little more.

"I enjoy taking care of people," Connor gestured toward the counter with his free hand like that would somehow make his point, "and I've always loved medical science, so I figured I'd combine the two."

Hank gave a slow nod as he moved to grab his drink, he also came away with the pastry bag that probably had Connor's scone in it. He handed the bag to the brunette, "alright, lead the way."

Connor nodded and walked to a table that was tucked away in a corner by the wall of windows. He liked to look out into the city while he worked. He had claimed one of the bigger tables so he would have room to spread out his borrowed texted books. He took one side and Hank took the other, they were quiet as they settled in. Hank setting up his laptop and plugging it in, Connor opening a book Markus lent him as well as the study guide the older nurse had written up to help him. They worked in silence for a while, but then Connor finally asked one of the questions that had been nagging at him.

"So what made you become an English professor Hank?" He asked picking at his scone rather than eating it, "no offense, but you don't seem the type."

Hank laughed at that, a loud full sound, "I get that a lot actually. I've always loved writing and in college on of my professors helped me nurture the skill. So I thought that once I got my feet under me as an author I would do the same, and here we are."

"That's a sweet story." He replied, taking a chunk from his fully pulled apart scone and eating it. Speaking again when it was finished, "that's also the reason why you're encouraging Simon to get started on his kids' book."

Hank gave another nod, "that and he has a unique idea. I want to see it do well."

Silence came over them again as they got drawn back into their work. It was amicable and easy and to Connor it felt natural. They weren't professor and student, or barista and customer, right now they were just two friends working in each other's company. Something Connor hadn't known he wanted until he had it.

At the times when the conversation picked up again, it was easy, like they had known each other for years rather than just a handful of weeks. Hank had to leave after a few hours since Sumo was at the house. They said their goodbyes and Connor went back to his studies, though focus was harder to come by now. He got another hour in before he gave up deciding he'd get another coffee and head home. Given the time of day he walked right uo to the counter. Shifts had changed during the day and North and Josh were now the one's working the counter.

"So what was that about?" Josh asked, typing in Connor's order as the brunette signed it.

"What was what about?" Connor shot back a little too quickly for the ploy of playing dumb to be effective.

"You know, you and Hank sharing a table," Josh responded handing the cup off to North who was grinning like a shark.

"You two seemed to be getting pretty cozy," she said as she worked on his drink.

Connor rolled his eyes as he moved to the end counter, "we were just working and thought we would sit together. It wasn't anything special."

"Okay, let's say I buy that," North said dryly, "then what was with the lovesick sigh when he left."

"The what?" Connor looked at her affronted, "I did not sigh."

"You did." She handed him his drink with a wry smile, "You're just so far gone you didn't notice."

"It wasn't like that." Connor sounded petulant to his own ears but pushed forward anyway, "we just decided to work together today."

"Uh-huh," came her response as Connor turned for the door, "if that's what you want to believe."

He flipped her off over his shoulder as he walked out. Today was nice, but it didn't mean anything. Outside of the safety bubble that was the weekend, Hank was still his professor, and on top of that he probably already had someone. Just because he wasn't married didn't make him single, or mean that he wanted to date. Connor was content with being friends in the safety of the weekend.

I was lowkey heartbroken when your blog disappeared. Wish you the best of luck. :) If this is too many characters you can pick which ones you want to write. How would Connor, Nines, Gavin, Hank, and Ralph react if they saw their s/o injured, and the s/o explained that they were beaten up by someone through no fault of their own?

Ok, anon, I’m like actually smiling like an idiot right now, this is so cute, I’m SMITTEN. Also props to you for picking a pretty great selection of characters here, I feel like everyone has a decently unique answer, and this was very enjoyable to write!💙

Anyways, In this scenario, the gist of the situation is you’re out late one night. Later than expected. To try and save a little time on your way home, you take a short cut through a seedy, ally. While you know this is far from the best place to be so late in the night, you think it’s still the best choice considering the time it would save you. For a while, all is well, you keep your head down and don’t see any reason to be afraid. However, before you can manage to make your escape, you’re jumped by someone you failed to notice was persuing you for some time now. Without thinking you struggle to fight back, unaware your assailant was armed, and an uneven fight becomes all the worse for you as you’re left to bleed out on the street, the criminal making off with your wallet. You manage to pull yourself together enough to hobble into an alleyway to keep out of sight of others who possibly mean you harm, as you do the best to sit and figure out what to do now. 

(Also, Nines, Connor, Gavin, and Hank were investigating the area after reports of suspicious behavior in the area from an anonymous source, thus how they found you. Ralph happened across you because the altercation broke out within walking distance of his home.)

Connor

His gut instinct when he sees anyone in need medically nearly always would be to scan for possible injuries and make sure their condition wasn't critical general first aid etiquette. When he sees you all banged up like this, though, Connor can't help but freeze up here. His brain is screaming for him to do something, but for whatever reason, he finds himself frozen.

Rather than analyzing the most critical data first and figuring out what happened to you, Connor can't stop staring at all the blood leaving your body. Coating your skin, getting caught in the fabric of your clothes, and spilling out onto the gravel around you. He could tell by the way you were doing your best to hide in the shadows and avoid being seen you were trying to take care of yourself. Despite your best efforts, Connor could still hear your grunts of pain. 

After a little time passes and the shock of the situation dissolve slightly, Connor would decide the best course of action here would be to approach very cautiously. Take every precaution so as not to give you any reason to fear him or otherwise cause for alarm.

Once he's finally able to reach you and learns the full story of what went down, Connor would insist on walking you home as there's no way he would leave you all alone on the streets now. Even though you might feel as though she's going a little too far here, you would likely chalk this up overprotectiveness as a result of his occupation and could easily overlook any ulterior motive.

Hank

Unlike his partner, Hank is way too well experienced in the sort of situation to allow any shock caused him to freeze up. Hank's been in this position before; despite this, it does little to dull his emotional reaction. Fear from finding you in such critical condition, anxiety in the confusion of how you end up here in the first place. But most importantly, anger demanding justice against whoever did this to you.

Before you even detected, he was in the area he would be at your side a direct but also gentle approach. Even though it's tempting for him to allow his emotions take over here, Hank still holds your immediate safety as his first, and top priority and the sight of all that blood on your clothing has and more than a little concerned.

There's no way someone like him wouldn't have a first aid kit in his car or something to that effect so while he would urge you to get it away from them up in the scum of the street alcove he wouldn't feel the need to rush you to an actual medical area without first a little wound care of his own. Both treating the injuries as well as making sure you felt safe again.

It would be tough to refuse Hank's help here or to assure him you were fine on your own even if you were suspicious of his intentions. Hank would appear to you as a superior, a guardian figure someone you could rely on to keep you safe against the world. It's not that you weren't suspicious it's more a matter of how anyone could in your position not embrace the comfort and guidance he offered.

Gavin

Did you really think this guy would know how to avoid acting emotionally in the situation? Even though he's far from their most experienced in terms of first aid, he isn't blind. And the sight of the person he cares for the most curled up and pain visibly bleeding and failing to keep the moans and hisses of agony quiet leaves him with clear instruction of what to do next.

Most in a situation would try to draw you out of the muck of the city alley Gavin wouldn't necessarily do the same. Instead, Gavin would be right at your side before you could so much as ask how he found you so quickly he would insist you trust him. Allow Gavin to examine your wounds and learn what happened to you after. 

It would require a great deal of convincing and begging this absolute idiot not to try and pursue the person who did this to you. Likely Gavin would use this as an excuse to get you to promise him something like, “ I promise I will not hunt this person down if you promise to let me look after you tonight."

You wanted to believe Gavin wasn't entirely serious here when he told you he was ready to make sure the bastard who did this to you bled for what he did. And under other circumstances, you may have been a bit more wary of this quite frankly hostile behavior. However, considering how unsafe and afraid you were, how could you refuse the one person who swore he would keep you safe even if it was just for this one night.

Ralph

Before now, Ralph typically felt most comfortable in the night and what would usually be considered part of the more hardened areas of town. Most humans tended to avoid these parts. And he could easily fight off or evade an encounter. He thought he knew this area until he saw you roughed up and crumpled in a ball against the side of the building.

Ralph fails to understand what the problem here is, and it's not until he notices you're heavily bleeding that he decides you're in serious danger here, and it's imperative he steps in to do something. He wants to help you out and be the strong one here; however, despite his best intentions, it's hard to focus on anything but all that blood and the way that you're coiled up in pain.

Rather than focusing on the injuries at hand, Ralph might decide to make the snap decision to urge you to your feet tell you that it's too dangerous out here to sit around. If you wanted to survive the night, then you must follow Ralph's lead and allow him to bring you to safety.

Considering your mental haze here, you're not exactly in any position to turn him away. He tells you following his lead in this critical moment might be the one thing which could save your life, and who are you not to accept this blessing? A part of you feared for your own death in that area where you were jumped. Even if all aroused could do was save you from dying in that horribly dark place that was more than enough.

Nines

Unlike many of the other yanderes who would want to approach you with nothing but gentleness and would hate to cause you any more fear considering you were already barely holding on, this does not apply to Nines. And his eyes Nines has no choice but to rush you and get you out of the situation as soon as possible. True, he hates to be the one to bring you even more pain, but it's an act of tough love, and there's no way he'll let a minute go to waste, not when there's so much on the line here.

Nines wouldn't force you to explain what happened to you here as he doubts you're precisely "all there" at the moment. Not to mention the fact Nines trust himself to be competent enough when it comes to analyzing your injuries to piece together a rough estimation of what must have gone down to leave you in such a somber state.

The best way to explain how he would react in this situation is to act now and worry about explanations later. Much unlike Gavin, Nines realizes the culprit is already long gone, and there's no way he could hope to avenge justice for you on that front now. Though God only knows, given the opportunity, this person would fry.

When it comes to your reaction, it's unlikely there is no one else you could have chosen to come to your aid in the situation. Nines, even without really trying, has this way of making you feel protected like so long as he's here by your side, there's no way something like that would happen to you again. Maybe even enough to urge you to rely more on him in the future.

Consider buying me a Ko-Fi//Requests are Open

Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 39

Story summary A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU. Rating for this chapter: Mature (overall story is mature) Word count for this chapter: 6,713 Can also be read on A03 / FF Masterpost is here. The fantastic artwork produced by Cassie at CC-Graphics can be here.   Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support. ***** “Communication is the fuel that keeps the fire of your relationship burning, without it, your relationship goes cold.” -  William Paisley June “I heard that you got your man in LA, and that you and Kurt are an item now. That Ellen Show was really something,” Connor says. “Err… yes, I did,” Blaine replies, wondering where this phone conversation is going. He feels uncomfortable talking with Connor if he wants to discuss Kurt. “Butterfly Wings is trending on Twitter and everyone wants to know where they can buy a copy. The performance already has three million hits on YouTube.”

“I saw that this morning. It’s hard to imagine that people actually want to buy a copy of the song.” “The reason I’m calling you is that music labels will be knocking on your door for a recording deal very soon and you need to be prepared.” “You think so?” Blaine tentatively asks. “I know so. Can I give you a piece of advice? Don’t sign anything, no matter how sweet the deal seems. You’ll need a good entertainment lawyer to help negotiate the contract. You don’t want to sign your song’s copyright away or commit to a tour or album. You can send the record labels to me until you’ve found the right lawyer.” “I think you’re right. I don’t know the first thing about the music industry. Your offer to help me out… You’d really do that for me?” “Of course I would, Blaine. I like you - you’re a good person. I might wish that we could have been something special, but I always want to be your friend.” “I’d like that too, Connor.” “Good - I’m glad we cleared the air about that. Now, the first thing you need to do is figure out how to meet the demand of people wanting to buy a copy of Butterfly Wings. You don’t need a music label to promote the song - it’s a hit already. However, you do need a polished-up version you can sell via iTunes, Amazon, Spotify… and of course the Monarch Foundation website.” “Well, that will be easier than you think. Last Friday I cut a version of ‘Butterfly Wings’ at a recording studio, with Marley Rose as back-up vocals.” “That’s fantastic news! How about I get things started? I have a good friend who’s an excellent entertainment lawyer. He can advise on how much to pay Marley for her vocal work on the song, and get the song uploaded on iTunes, Amazon, and other websites.” “Sure, that sounds like a good plan, Connor. I’m not sure whether there will be many sales, but it seems like we need to strike while the iron is hot. I’m on the way to the airport to collect Kurt, and I’ll be busy for the rest of the day. Why don’t I send Bentley to your office with the demo file later this morning and you can take it from there.” ***** When Kurt arrives at the LaGuardia Airport’s baggage claim area, he looks around and spots Blaine and Bentley leaving the Starbucks kiosk with coffees. Blaine is wearing those tight-fitting jeans that show off his ass, a simple graphic T-shirt and a beanie that covers his curls. As soon as Blaine sees Kurt, his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Blaine hands the coffees to Bentley and rushes into Kurt’s arms. Kurt loves how Blaine is a little bit shorter than him and fits perfectly against his body. “I was afraid that you might change your mind,” Blaine whispers into Kurt’s ear. “Are you kidding me? I barely got a wink of sleep last night. I was too worried I wouldn’t wake up in time for the flight. Nothing could have stopped me from coming to New York City today.” They collect Kurt’s suitcases and walk to the car in the short-term parking garage. Bentley arranges the suitcases in the trunk, and soon they are on their way to the Upper East Side. Blaine tugs Kurt’s hands into his, gazing into his eyes. “I missed you so much, Kurt.” “I missed you too.” Kurt leans in and presses his lips against Blaine’s – they are warm and soft, and kissing Blaine feels like he’s coming home. Soon, their lips start moving together, and when Kurt feels Blaine’s wet tongue against his lips, he opens his mouth immediately. Blaine explores inside, and when Kurt feels the gentle sucking motion on his tongue, he can’t help but moan. “Boys… Boys… Remember I’m here,” Bentley chuckles. Kurt moves his hand to knock off Blaine’s beanie, then starts twisting and tugging the curls at the nape. Blaine leans in closer so that their chests are pressed together, and clutches the back of Kurt’s thigh. Blaine pulls away when his phone starts playing. He's a tramp, he's a scoundrel, He's a rounder, he's a cad, He's a tramp but I love him… Blaine immediately sits up and groans, “I can’t believe I forgot to turn off Bentley’s ringtone.” “Good one, Blaine. I knew I’d find out my ringtone eventually. Thanks for distracting him, Kurt. Now can you boys keep it G-rated? I’ll get you home in about five minutes.” Blaine puts his beanie back on his head and hands Kurt a blanket. Kurt whispers, “I am not going to fool around with you under the blanket while Bentley’s in the car.” Blaine bursts into a fit of laughter, and when he eventually calms down, he explains, “Since The Ellen Show, the paparazzi have been camped out in front of my building, trying to get a photo of my boyfriend… of you. I want us to have some time together alone to discuss what we’re going to do.” Kurt’s heart sinks, remembering how intrusive the American paparazzi can be. He has been spoilt in Paris, with their strict privacy laws, and doesn’t want to deal with the media problem. Blaine pulls his beanie down over his curls and puts on his Oakley sunglasses. Kurt bends down and Blaine covers him with the blanket until they’re inside the building’s underground parking garage. When they enter the penthouse, Kurt yawns. He and his dad had left Lima at 3:45 a.m. to catch the early morning flight from Dayton. “You look exhausted, Kurt. Why don’t you take a nap?” “Only if you join me. I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” Blaine pulls Kurt in for a gentle hug and replies, “You’re not the only one who didn’t get much sleep last night. I was way too excited about you coming to New York City today.” They move to Blaine’s bedroom, quickly strip to their briefs and climb into the huge king-sized bed. Blaine’s bed is so comfy that Kurt feels as if he’s lying on a cloud. Kurt tugs Blaine towards his chest and soon they both drift off to sleep. ***** Kurt can feel soft whiskers brush his chest as Blaine snuggles closer. He cracks one eye open and sees the late afternoon sun giving the room a gentle glow. Kurt rolls toward Blaine, and with a gravelly low voice says, “Hi there.” Blaine smiles back and then proceeds to kiss every part of Kurt’s chest that his lips can reach. “Ugh, I feel gross after the flight. I’m going to take a quick shower.” Kurt climbs out of bed and makes his way to the master bathroom. There are large gray slate tiles on the walls, a huge sunken tub, and a shower stall that could easily fit four people. Two pink princess electric toothbrushes are on the marble counter with double sinks. When the water temperature is just right, Kurt enters the shower stall, and smiles when he sees all his favorite products lined up next to Blaine’s. After shampooing and conditioning his hair, Kurt squeezes some body wash on the loofah and scrubs his body. Just when he finishes rinsing off, he feels the press of Blaine’s chest against his back. “You smell delicious,” Blaine murmurs. “I think it’s your turn now.” Kurt pours body wash on the loofah and gently moves it over Blaine’s body. Kurt giggles when he bends down to wash Blaine’s legs and Blaine’s cock almost pokes him in the eye because it’s jutting out. If Kurt wants to suck off Blaine in the bathroom, it’s nobody’s business but their own. But Kurt wants something different – he wants to feel Blaine inside him. When Kurt stands up, Blaine pulls him into a searing kiss. “You can’t bend over like that and show off your ass unless you plan to use it.” “I have every intention of using it, but not in the shower.” Blaine switches of the shower jets, quickly leaves the stall and dries off. He opens the spare towel wide between his hands and thoroughly dries Kurt. “Go wait for me in the bedroom,” Kurt says with a soft smile. Kurt represses his laughter as Blaine sprints to the bedroom, obviously eager and excited. Kurt takes his time brushing his teeth and combing his hair, before joining him. Blaine is lying on his side, propped up on one elbow. Blaine’s hair is wild and his eyes are sparkling, and Kurt gets butterflies in his stomach because he knows that Blaine’s eyes sparkle just for him. Kurt rakes his eyes over Blaine’s body – it’s compact but perfectly formed, from his tiny waist to his strong muscular legs. Kurt drops the towel he’d slung around his waist, slowly walks towards the bed and joins Blaine, who immediately rolls him on his back and lies on top of him. “You’re too sexy for your own damn good. I want to kiss you all over,” Blaine says in a low husky voice. Kurt can feel Blaine’s body weight and heat on top of him, and it makes him feel cocooned in Blaine’s love. Blaine scrapes his teeth along Kurt’s neck and zooms in on that place near his collarbone that he discovered in LA. Kurt’s body goes all tingly, and his cock is now fully erect. “Tell me what you want, Kurt. Tell me what you need.” “I want you inside me. I want to feel you.” “God, I want that too.” Blaine gets lube and a condom from the night table and then takes a pillow to put it under Kurt’s hips. He scooches down the bed and starts kissing Kurt’s inner thigh. Kurt loves the feel of Blaine’s whiskers, sometimes feeling soft and other times feeling scratchy. Kurt is so caught up in the sensation that he’s surprised when he feels Blaine’s finger start to make its way inside him. “Relax, honey. It will feel strange at first, but then it’s gonna feel really good.” Kurt wills himself to relax whilst Blaine’s finger fully makes its way inside him. It doesn’t feel good or bad – it just feels weird. Blaine covers Kurt’s cock with his mouth, hollows his cheeks and starts bobbing, with his finger pushing in and out and twisting. Kurt feels a heat spread through his body because it’s starting to feel so damn good. “Another finger,” Kurt demands. Kurt feels another finger move inside him slowly. The extra intrusion burns a little, but feels amazing nonetheless. When Blaine rubs his fingertips over his prostrate, Kurt’s hips thrust up and his cock hits the back of Blaine’s throat. “Another!” Kurt orders. Blaine hums around his cock, and the vibrations give Kurt a whole new sensation. When Blaine finally gives him the third finger, he gently starts twisting and scissoring Kurt. As sweet as it is that Blaine is going so slowly and carefully, Kurt wants more – harder – faster. Kurt pushes back on Blaine’s fingers, hoping that he gets the idea. Kurt is setting the pace with every movement – pushing down on the fingers, then thrusting up into Blaine’s mouth. “I want your cock inside me right now!” Blaine slowly releases Kurt’s cock from his mouth. “I want to make sure that you’re fully prepped so that I don’t hurt you.” Not able to wait another second longer, Kurt flips Blaine over and straddles him, leading to a surprised ‘Oompf’. Kurt quickly strokes Blaine’s cock until it’s jutting out, picks up the condom and rips it open with his teeth. Kurt carefully rolls the condom onto Blaine’s cock and lubes it up. “I’m gonna ride your big fucking cock.” “It’s going to be a lot of work for you. Are you sure?” “You’re not the only one with powerful thighs,” Kurt smirks. Kurt angles himself over Blaine and uses his hand to guide Blaine’s cock to the right spot. Kurt reminds himself to breathe as he slowly guides Blaine’s cock inside him. Kurt can feel the burn, but he loves the sensation, and when Blaine bottoms out, he feels so full. “Jesus, Kurt. You’re so tight, so hot. Give me a second, otherwise I’m going to cum just looking at you.” After thirty seconds, Kurt runs out of patience. He slowly raises his body until Blaine’s cock almost slips out, then drops back down. He presses against Blaine’s chest for additional leverage and then rolls his hips so that he can feel Blaine’s cock all inside him. “Yeah… Work those hips… ggh… Feels… fucking good,” Blaine moans. Kurt sets the pace quicker, and Blaine thrusts up so that Kurt can feel Blaine’s cock even deeper. Kurt adjusts the angle until Blaine’s cock hits his prostrate. “Harder, Blaine. I wanna feel you. Keep hitting that spot.” Their eyes meet as Kurt looks down at Blaine, who’s in the throes of pleasure - his legs are trembling, he’s erratically thrusting, and he’s moaning. “Kurt…. Oh, god…. You’re so hot… I’m…. I’m gonna…. Fuck… KURT!” When Kurt sees Blaine climax, he pushes down one last time, feeling the orgasm rip through his body. Spurts of thick white cum cover Blaine’s chest while Blaine keeps thrusting up to chase every last bit of pleasure. Kurt leans forward, puts his weight on his hands, and waits for his breath to even out. When Kurt looks up, he sees Blaine with closed eyes, drool to the side of his mouth, sweaty curls, and a dopey smile on his face. Kurt’s not sure which look he likes better – Blaine in the throes of having an orgasm or Blaine fully sated and happy. Kurt pulls off Blaine and takes care of the condom. He quietly goes to the bathroom to clean himself up. He then prepares a warm wet washcloth for Blaine, returns to the bedroom and cleans his cum off of Blaine’s chest. When he lies down on the bed on his side, Blaine turns to face him. “Wow. You’re really something, Kurt. The way you took control…” “I’m sorry. You were going so carefully and slowly. I was going crazy wanting you inside me. I couldn’t wait a second longer.” “Don’t apologize. It was hot!” “I’m sure you had something different in mind.” “I love you so much. I want to try everything and anything on either of our minds with you.” Kurt smiles at Blaine. He definitely likes the thought of that. “Also…” Blaine waggles his eyebrows at Kurt suggestively. “Now that I know that you like it a little rough and fast, next time I’m going fuck you hard into the mattress... or maybe the dining room table.” “God, don’t says things like that. My cock is definitely interested, but I can’t cope right now. I’m totally spent,” Kurt groans. Kurt can see the smug look on Blaine’s face. After doing his best to kiss it off, Kurt rests his head on Blaine’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat. Kurt wonders why it took him so long to leave Lima and come back to New York City to be with Blaine. “Can I ask you something?” “Anything, my love,” Blaine replies. “Why did you do it? Model for the cover of Vogue, agree to an interview as the feature article and then go on The Ellen Show? Don’t get me wrong – I loved it – but I thought that it was up to me to make the first move and return to New York City.” Blaine rolls onto his side and sighs. “I felt so vulnerable when you were in Lima, particularly when you were so angry about that photo of Sebastian and me. I respected that you needed time to figure out your future, but the longer you stayed in Lima, the more I was afraid that you wouldn’t come back to me.” “I was always going to come back to you,” Kurt interrupts. “But I didn’t know that. You’re the first person who has loved me for who I really am. I didn’t want to lose you, so I planned a big romantic gesture to tip the scale in my favor.” “You’re such a wonderful person, Blaine. I can’t believe that there haven’t been other men who saw that before I did.” “It’s been like that all my life. When I transferred to Dalton Academy, I quickly joined the Warblers glee club. We were like rock stars at school, and I was the lead soloist. For the first time in my life, I was around other gay boys who wanted me. But I soon realized what they really wanted was the bragging rights to say they made out with Blaine Anderson. And then there was Sebastian, who was always propositioning me and made lewd remarks about my ass. It was then that I realized that who I am deep inside doesn’t matter to others.” “Oh, but you do! You matter to so many people – friends, family, Vogue staff, and the Monarch Foundation.” Kurt cups Blaine’s face in his hand and slowly strokes his thumb along Blaine’s cheek. Blaine closes his eyes and Kurt can hear Blaine purr. “Blaine, you matter to me very much. Besides my dad, you are the most important person in my life. You are a truly beautiful man.” Their lips press together softly. The kiss has none of the earlier heat and passion, but it’s full of love and promise. Kurt’s stomach grumbles loudly, and he looks at Blaine sheepishly. “I haven’t eaten since a quick breakfast at the airport.” “How do omelets sound?” Blaine asks. Blaine pulls on a T-shirt and some shorts while Kurt rummages in a suitcase to find something casual to wear. When they enter the kitchen, Blaine takes the ingredients they need out of the fridge. They work in silence, Kurt dicing the bell peppers and ham, and Blaine whisking the eggs and shredding the cheese. While Blaine heats the skillet on the stovetop and cooks the omelets, Kurt prepares a pot of coffee. When Blaine transfers the last omelet to a plate, Kurt gets the silverware, napkins and coffee mugs ready on a tray. Kurt loves how they work together, intuitively knowing what needs to be done and how to divide the tasks. “Can we eat up on the rooftop?” Kurt asks. “Great idea. Let me go get the key.” They climb up the stairs to the rooftop and Blaine gets the cushions out for the sectional so that they’re comfy. As soon as he’s scarfed down his omelet and drunk a mug of coffee, Kurt feels much better. He scooches along to the end of the sectional, pulling his feet up, to watch the sunset. “Kurt, we need to talk about things – about what happened at the end of your LA visit and also about our future.” When Kurt nods, Blaine continues, “That photo of me and Sebastian in my wallet…” Kurt interrupts, “I understand everything now. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions and overreacted. I felt so overwhelmed at the time.” “The thing is, there are going to be lots of things happening in the future – our future – that won’t initially make sense. You know how the media twists things to sell photos or stories. You can’t keep running away each time. I can’t tell you how upset I was when you switched to Elle and cut off all communication.” “I was upset too! I couldn’t work at Vogue anymore…. Not with that video on the Internet,” Kurt cries out. “I wasn’t upset that you switched to Elle. Believe it or not, I understood why you made that decision. No, I was upset because you didn’t want me to be part of your life. And when your dad told me that you moved to Paris, I thought I had lost you forever.” Blaine wipes a tear trickling down his face. “You’ve got to let me know - talk to me – when something’s not right. I can’t live my life worried that you’ll leave me at the first sign of trouble.” “You have to be honest with me too, Blaine. You didn’t tell me about your true relationship with Sam. That hurts.” “You’re right. I haven’t been the innocent victim in the past, and I made a really poor decision to not tell you about Sam. I’m not perfect by any means.” Blaine places his palms over his eyes and Kurt hears the little sniffles. “Hey, come here,” Kurt says, with his arms open. Blaine scooches across the sectional and lies against Kurt’s chest. “You’re imperfectly perfect to me. I’m very committed to you – to us - and we’ll find a way to make this work. I’ll find some way to tell you when there’s something wrong and I’m feeling overwhelmed,” Kurt reassures Blaine. “Spider.” “Spider? I don’t see any spiders, Blaine.” If you’re upset but don’t know what you feel or how to express it, just say ‘spider’. Then I’ll know that something is wrong. We’ll make the time to talk about it, before it escalates into a huge problem.” “I think that might work. Why don’t we try it out? If we do this, I want you to say ‘spider’ too when something’s wrong. As a matter of interest, why ‘spider’?” “It’s a natural enemy of the butterfly.” ***** Kurt wakes up earlier than Blaine the next morning. After a visit to the bathroom, he grabs two mugs of coffee from the kitchen and returns to bed with his tablet. Kurt feels as if he’s been in a wonderful bubble since the Vogue issue was delivered to him in Lima, and he’s lost touch with what’s happening in the world. After checking his e-mails, he switches to Twitter and smiles when he sees that #ButterflyWings and #BlaineAnderson are trending. Leave it to Blaine to trend after singing a song on The Ellen Show. He clicks on #ButterflyWings and his mouth drops open as he reads the first tweets. “Blaine, wake up! Wake up! You have to see this!” “Mmm… I was having a good dream about you. What’s going on, Kurt? Is there a fire somewhere?” Blaine asks in a rough morning voice. “Butterfly Wings is topping the sales chart on iTunes, Amazon, Spotify, eMusic, and BeatsMusic. It’s made history as the fastest song to reach number one after its release.” “Oh my god. Connor said he would organize for ‘Butterfly Wings’ to be sold online. I didn’t realize that it would happen so fast.” “Connor? He’s still part of your life?” Kurt asks, arching one eyebrow. “It’s not like that, Kurt. You know my heart belongs to you only. Connor called me while I was on the way to the airport and suggested I sell downloads of ‘Butterfly Wings’ right away because there was such a high demand. He’s working with an entertainment lawyer to make it happen. I need to call him today to find out what the arrangements are.” “That’s a lot of trust you have in Connor,” Kurt observes. “Yes, I do trust Connor. He’s a good man and has my best interests at heart. I think we’ll always be friends, and I think that you’ll like him too.” Blaine takes the day off and they spend it in the penthouse, watching trashy TV programs in bed. In reality, the TV is on, but it’s just background noise for their make-out sessions. They go to the building’s gym in the afternoon, but quickly return home, when Kurt starts licking the sweat off of Blaine’s neck. Amy is conveniently spending the day way from the penthouse, running errands, but insists on preparing them a proper dinner. When she comes to the dining room to clear the plates, Blaine is in Kurt’s lap, his mouth open like a baby bird, while Kurt feeds him large juicy strawberries. “You two are so adorable together. I’m really happy that you’re here, Kurt,” Amy remarks when she sees them. “I’m happy too,” Kurt replies with a dopey grin on his face. “Are you going to work tomorrow, Mr. A?” “Yeah, I’ve got to, but I’ll be home for dinner,” Blaine sighs with regret in his voice. “And you, Kurt?” Amy asks. “I’ve got a lot of things to sort out during the day, but I’ll be back in the afternoon. So count me in for dinner.” “Shall I unpack your things tomorrow? I can make room in Mr. A’s closet and chest of drawers.” “Umm… I’m not sure. Can I get back to you on that?” Kurt knows that they haven’t had the discussion about how their future in New York City will unfold – if they’ll live together or if Kurt will find his own apartment. How fast or slow they should take their relationship. What Kurt will do now that he’s in New York City. Kurt feels overwhelmed with so many things that need to be sorted out. When Amy returns to the kitchen, Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes, and calmly says “Spider”. Blaine weakly smiles and nods. “You ready to talk about it, or do you want some space?” “I really want to tell you what’s going on in my mind, but it’s still a mess, so it might not come out right. But, yeah, we need to talk about it.” “God, Kurt. Do you know happy it makes me to hear that? Not that you’re confused, but that you want to talk about it.” “Hey, I’m a fast learner,” Kurt giggles. They move to the living room and get comfortable on the couch. Blaine sits on one end and Kurt lies down, placing his head on Blaine’s lap. As Blaine cards his fingers through Kurt’s hair, Kurt takes a deep breath. “We haven’t really talked about the future, what’s going to happen tomorrow… or next week… or next year,” Kurt calmly points out. “Now that I have you here, I don’t want to let you go. I want to share my life with you, Kurt. I want you to live with me, and I want us to get married and raise a family together. All I want – all I’ve ever wanted – is to spend my life loving you.” “Wow. Right. Uhm… I want that too, eventually. But honestly, Blaine, right now, that feels overwhelming. I turned twenty years old last week. I don’t know what I want to do with my life and how it’s going to blend in with your career. I want to be my own man – an equal partner. I need the time to figure things out for myself, so we need to take things slowly.” Blaine continues to stroke Kurt’s hair as he tilts his head back against the couch. Kurt patiently waits for Blaine to process his concerns. Kurt feels better now that he has told Blaine how he feels, but isn’t sure he’ll like the reply. “When I’m with you, I forget that you’re ten years younger than me. When I was your age, I felt the exact same way - I wasn’t sure what my future would hold. So I understand your need to take things slowly.” “My dad gave me some really great advice last week. When something feels so big that you don’t know where to start, it’s best to break it down into smaller pieces.” “Starting with talking about what’s going to happen tomorrow when real life kicks in?” Blaine asks. “Yeah, real life,” Kurt chuckles. “I want to go back to school and study fashion design. I loved the creative side of things when I worked for Christophe Bellerose. When I was in Lima, I did a lot of research and submitted applications to Parsons, FIT, and Pratt.” “Those schools are all in New York City,” Blaine observes. “Yes, they are. I told you I want to be with you.” “So you’ll live with me?” Blaine asks with a hopeful tone in his voice. “I’m not sure… A lot will depend upon the media attention that we get. There’s still paps out on the street.” “Amy told me it’s now down to three people.” “It is for now, but what will happen when they find out we’re together? I don’t want to live my life in a fishbowl, wondering what photos will be posted online and what people will say.” “Do you want to keep our relationship a secret, Kurt?” “No, I really don’t. I’m proud that you’re my boyfriend and I want everyone to know that you are mine… and no longer available. But I don’t want to hide under a blanket every time I enter the building. It’s not who I am.” “I don’t want to hide you away either. I’ve already announced to the world that I’m in love and I want people to know that you are the special person in my life. How about we just do things as normal but avoid the big events. When our relationship leaks out, we’ll figure out what to do then. We’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.” “Okay, but I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I will not go to every high-profile event that you attend for work. I want to stay out of the spotlight.” “I can respect that. I’ll take Isabelle with me instead. She’ll get to network with more people and no-one will think we’re together.” Kurt smiles and nods, happy with that solution. “So, the living arrangements?” Blaine tentatively asks. “How about I stay here for the summer before starting school in September. Let’s take a vacation during the last week of August. We can take a step back and look at the situation… honestly. We can talk about how things are going, weigh the pros and cons, and make sure living together is the absolutely best thing for our relationship.” “That sounds like an excellent idea. When did you get so smart?” “Since I listened to my dad. So, we’re good?” Kurt asks. “Umm…” “Tell me, Blaine. I want you to be 100% honest about your feelings.” “Okay. This is hard, but I need to be honest with you too. I’ll go at any pace that you want and respect any decision you make about whether you’ll live with me or not when you start school in September. But I need to know that we’re both working towards the same goal. Once you start studying fashion design, you’ll have a brand new life, with brand new friends… And how will I fit into that? I’m so afraid that we’ll grow apart. That you won’t want to be with me anymore. You’re the love of my life, Kurt. I want to be your forever.” “I promise you’re not going to lose me. If we’re going to be in this forever, we’ll need to do lots of things by ourselves, and they will make each of us a better-rounded person. But we’re in this together, and I have the same long-term dreams as you. We’ll make decisions together about what is right for us and our future.” Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine and hugs him tightly. “I love you so much.” “I love you too.” ***** Two weeks later Kurt holds Blaine’s hand as they exit the New York City Library in Bryant Park. Kurt has organized a two-part date night and they have just seen the Library’s Hamilton Exhibit. Blaine is positively glowing. “I can’t believe that we just saw the Hamilton exhibit together. You’d never believe this, but I was planning to take you next weekend as a surprise.” “It just goes to show that great minds think alike.” “Now I’ll have to find something else on my bucket list to do with you,” Blaine pouts. “Our bucket list, Blaine. There are so many things I want to do with you.” They find the Mercedes-Benz parked nearby, and once they slide onto the back seat, Bentley pulls away from the curb for their next destination. Kurt is relieved that the paparazzi now leave them alone. Blaine is kissing along Kurt’s neck, and when he gets to Kurt’s pleasure spot and starts nibbling, Kurt pulls Blaine off. “You can do that all you like, but I’m not telling,” Kurt sing-songs. Blaine gives Kurt big puppy dog eyes. “Pleaasse?” “Come on, Blaine, you always like my surprises.” Bentley pulls the car to the curb on Hudson Street, in New York City’s meatpacking district. Blaine becomes excited when he sees the sign for Pizzetteria Brunetti. “I’ve heard their pizza is to die for. How did you know it’s on my bucket list?” Blaine asks. “I didn’t know – I must be psychic or something. But I do know that you love Neapolitan-style pizza, and Brunetti’s has really good reviews on the Internet.” A waiter leads them through the restaurant to a table in the outside patio area. Once they’ve placed their order for pizzas and salad, Kurt can hardly contain his news anymore. “What’s up? I can see you bouncing in your seat,” Blaine asks. “You are now looking at FIT’s newest fashion design student. I got accepted!” Blaine jumps up and pulls Kurt up from his chair to give him a hug. “That’s excellent news! I’m so proud of you. When do you start?” “I’m starting on Monday. I decided to take two summer courses that will finish at the end of July. That will still leave August to prepare for a full-course load in the autumn and for us to take the vacation and sort things out.” “What courses will you be taking?” “Most courses are already filled, but there are two that sound interesting. One is Intro to CAD Software for Fashion Designers. If I really want to be in design, I’ll need to learn how to use the tools of the trade. The second course is more fun – Intro to Jewelry Fabrication.” “Wow, that jewelry course sounds right up your alley. You’ve always had a flair with brooches and accessories. What does it cover?” Pizzas are delivered to their table, and they talk about course syllabuses, trends in jewelry designs, and which new computer Kurt should buy. Kurt loves that Blaine seems so genuinely interested and supportive of the new direction his life has taken. For the first time, Kurt feels like a strong independent man. They make plans for Sunday that include attending the outdoor performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that is part of the ‘Shakespeare in the Park’ series. The conversation moves on to their bucket lists and events that are happening during August in New York City. While Blaine is engaged in the conversation, Kurt can see a distant look in Blaine’s eyes. “You’re here with me, but your mind is elsewhere,” Kurt observes. Blaine puts down his slice of pizza and gives Kurt an apologetic smile. “What are you thinking about, Blaine?” “I think you could do anything that you put your mind to. I really admire how you have taken the time to figure out which direction you want your life to go, and you’re making it happen. I’m so proud to be your boyfriend.” Blaine’s words make Kurt feel warm inside. Although Kurt enjoys the compliment, it doesn’t fully explain Blaine’s melancholy expression. “You always know what to say, but why do I think there’s something else going on inside your mind?” Kurt probes. Blaine lowers his head and remains silent. “Blaine, look at me. We promised we would be honest with each other, to tell each other how we feel.” “You’re right, Kurt. It’s just…. I’m pretty jealous of you right now. I wish I was ten years younger and making choices about what I should study and what I should be doing. I didn’t really think through what I wanted to do after I was accepted at Harvard.” “It’s not too late, Blaine. God, you’re only 29 years old. You can do anything you want to.” “Perhaps. So… I’ve been looking into Mediterranean cruises in August,” Blaine remarks. Kurt notices how quickly Blaine has changed the subject. It’s something they should talk about, but he appreciates that a pizzeria in the meatpacking district might not be the right place, so he goes with it. “Blaine, as nice at that sounds, I’m thinking of a vacation where we can spend time together without too many distractions. Leave it to me – I already have an idea.” “What are you thinking?” “I know how much you like surprises, Blaine. My lips are sealed.” Kurt can feel Blaine’s foot rub up his leg. “Even if Nightbird makes an appearance tonight and the evil Dr. Porcelain has his wicked way with him?” Blaine says in a low raspy voice, waggling his eyebrows. Kurt waves, snapping his fingers wildly, to catch the waiter’s attention for the bill. ***** Blaine is lying in the bubble bath with his back pressed against Kurt’s chest. It’s become their favorite place to relax and talk about things. “The things that come out of Nightbird’s mouth are filthy and sinful. Maybe next time, he should be gagged.” “What do you expect when Nightbird is tied to the bed. The things Dr. Porcelain can do with his hips…” Kurt can feel his cock twitch thinking of other ways to get Nightbird to fall apart in his bed. Sex with Blaine is hotter than any high school fantasy he had back in Lima. “I love having sex with you, Kurt. I feel safe enough to let go, and open up to experience new things.” Kurt tightly squeezes Blaine in his arms, and gives him a lingering kiss on the shoulder. Blaine carries on talking. “It’s hard to explain. I’ve never before had this sort of relationship with anybody. When I’m with you, it’s like there’s a whole different version – a better version - of me. I have so many dreams, I feel as if I could do anything.” “But you can do anything, Blaine. Life isn’t limited to dreams that you had when you were a teenager. Heck, if I still had that Broadway dream, I would still be stuck as a waiter at the Starlight Diner. Since I moved to New York City, life’s been full of little twists and turns, and honestly, Blaine, that’s half the fun. The real secret is taking the risk to explore new opportunities.” “And you’ve done that so well, Kurt. It’s what makes you so strong.” “Blaine, have you ever considered revisiting that dream of a music career? ‘Butterfly Wings’ has been on the iTunes bestseller list for weeks, and Tina’s told me that there are so many music labels wanting to meet with you.” “God, it’s bad enough having paps and fans follow me around for being Vogue’s editor-in-chief. Can you imagine how awful life would be with even more media attention? I really don’t want that.” “A music career doesn’t have to be about singing, doing tours, and putting yourself out there. You can have new dreams about what how you want your music career to go. You could work behind the scenes, songwriting or even producing.” “But I have a job, responsibilities…” “Your number one responsibility is to take care of your own needs. Of course, mine are a very close second,” Kurt giggles. “Look, Blaine, I know that it can feel overwhelming. I’ve been there myself plenty of times. I have to tell you that once I was so scared of trying out a new opportunity, I nearly backed out. But then there was a wise man who gave me one word of advice.” “One word?” Blaine asks. “Yep. And do you know what that word is?” When Blaine shakes his head, Kurt continues. “Courage.” Author notes Bentley’s ringtone – ‘He’s a Tramp’ from Lady and the Tramp Next up: The August vacation. Heads up – there are two chapters and an epilogue to go.

Tiger Dylan Grimes part of vintage crop

Dylan Grimes is a good footballer. He is also a very good wine-maker, the owner of a vineyard that makes very good wines. Unlike other footballers about whom the cliche is applied, he actually does have something worth bottling.

Grimes is a vigneron. To our knowledge, he is the only one in the AFL. Last October, he bought Mount Macedon Winery. 

Taste test: Tiger Dylan Grimes at Mount Macedon Winery, which he purchased last year.  Photo: Chris Hopkins

Grimes loves wine, its complexity and nuance and how subtle changes can have a significant impact on the quality from the same grapes vintage to vintage, but he didn’t set out to buy a winery. It wasn’t about the wine. He and partner Elisha were hunting for the right rural property close to Melbourne that they could operate for weddings, receptions and corporate functions.

It was about lifestyle more than wine. Elisha was in wedding management at wineries in the Yarra Valley and Dylan came off a hobby farm at Panton Hill at the base of Kinglake mountain in the north-eastern part of the Yarra Valley when he stepped into football at Richmond. They wanted to have the lifestyle shift to the country and run a business.

Dylan Grimes with teammate Connor Menadue. Photo: Getty Images

The winery sits at the base of Mount Macedon on slopes that sweep down to state forest. The winery is now named after the mountain it nuzzles up to but when it was first bought and planted out it was owned by the singer Olivia Newton John for her Koala Blue label. The label went bust in 1991.

The winery changed hands a few times and one of the owners ripped out acres of ill-suited grape varieties and concentrated on pinot noir and chardonnay. Both are extremely good (well you can’t guess at these things, it’s best to be thorough in your research).

“We knew from the start it was very much a lifestyle choice. I come home all the time and I am in the paddock and it doesn’t feel like work. We are lucky to find something we both love and can work on together as well,” he said.

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“We were looking for all different types of farms and originally this place had 20 acres of vineyards, now it has about six-and-a-half. The vines that were left were the original lot that was planted in 1989, so this was by far the better block and they kept these and pulled out the others. The irrigation and stuff is  there so we will look to replant them in the long term, but with more pinot probably.”

Grimes talks about the vineyard with infectious enthusiasm. They started small in October, just planning to get things right for weddings, but then a connection with Matt Harrop at Shadowfax had them bottling their own wine (the pinot will be under their label, the chardonnay has been sold under Shadowfax). They reopened the cellar door which had been closed for six years and now they are busy every weekend with lunches, wine sales and weddings. The property runs Black Angus cattle, poultry and has a herb garden to supply the cellar door restaurant.

Dylan splits his time between the vineyard and the city. When he is training and playing, he stays in Richmond with his brother Jack who recently retired after captaining Melbourne for a period.

The work on the vines and the paddocks draws him out constantly. The summer was hard. Pre-season is difficult and around that he was trying to renovate the cellar door facility and work in the vineyard. Having cracked into the work from the moment they settled, he arrived back for pre-season training the only Richmond player to have lower fat levels than when he left.

“I have never been happier. The first few months were challenging, pre-seasons are hard and I am tired and you come back here and work and often there are long days at the club as well.”

As a vineyard owner, and producer of his own wine, he understands about balance. About getting conditions right to produce something special. His football club has done something similar this year in finally getting its balance right. Certainly in defence, where Grimes plays, they have.

After a run of seasons regularly interrupted by injuries, Dylan is playing the best and most consistent football of his career. Whether it is a cause or effect of getting the balance right in his life away from the game, being so occupied and stimulated is academic but he suspects that it is so.

“Whether there is a link I am not sure, I strongly believe players who have a balanced lifestyle play their best footy. I guess at the moment I am finding that balance,” he said.

The balance is there on the field most notably in the trio of tall defenders at Richmond who bring the best out of each other. Alex Rance is popularly accepted to be the best defender in the game. Grimes and David Astbury are important in allowing him to be as good as he is. And in turn Rance’s game elevates Astbury’s, Astbury’s complements Grimes’.

“The bond that Alex, Dave and I have formed as a deep three defence has been huge. We invested a lot in playing together, our backline has been unchanged other than a few injuries with Reece Conca going down and Bachar out more recently, but there has not been much of a shake up to the backline which helps us so much because the more you play with them the better you are.

“We are all three very different players, Dave is an absolute brute, he is the typical fullback who can win the ball back for you and take those marks and Rancey is just a freak of nature the way he plays and then I try and fill the gaps in between if there is a small forward playing deeper I take him or try and leave my man a bit to chop them out.

“When the ball is going in and you see Rancey going one on one I can hedge my bets and know that he is probably going to win that contest and the same with Dave so that allows me to be slightly more attacking with my position but playing with someone you haven’t played with before you have to still stay on your man because you don’t now what the result of the contest is going to be.”

The effect is Richmond are among the best defensive teams in the competition. They rank first for keeping opposition side from converting times inside their forward zone to a score or a goal. They have conceded the second lowest number of points of any side.

They are the best team for a turnover in defence not resulting in a goal, and third fewest score from clearances at stoppages.

All of this is relevant because of the last 12 premiers, nine have been ranked in the top three for defence. Presently Richmond sit second.

Like a good wine, depth is found when everything is in balance.

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