Kurt is in the center of that little touch-orgy they have in the club scene. He’s laid out, being worshipped basically. He’s laid out, altar AND sacrifice, touched and touching, the center of this knot of pleasure, you can see it in everyone’s faces. I don’t know if it’s induced by anything or…
C’mon, Kurt and Blaine go to clubs all the time. Before they walk in, they play rock, paper, scissors, and the winner gets to sit back and watch as the “loser” flirts and dances and makes all the boys’ mouths water. It’s like foreplay to them. Eventually, they end up in the middle of the dance floor together, teasing and grinding with their hands all over each other, seeing who will crack first. And on those nights, Blaine doesn’t mind it when Kurt wins.
Drunken shenanigans that take place a while before 5x14. 3400 words.
Kurt’s band practice was supposed to be finished by seven, and with an hour of travel time added on to that, Blaine had expected him home by eight o’clock. So when the vintage flip clock in the kitchen’s numbers flop over to half past ten, Blaine is well on his way to uncontrollably antsy. He hasn’t seen or spoken to Kurt since their shared lunch at noon, and he wants him. He misses him. And honestly, he’s starting to get a little worried.
He paces back and forth from the kitchen to the living area, forgetting the glass of sparkling grape juice he’d just soda-streamed for Sam. “Just call him,” Sam says with laugh. “He’s probably hanging out with that Elliott guy.”
And that’s what makes Blaine’s decision for him. He can’t say he fully trusts Elliott around Kurt. What sort of a friend and bandmate doesn’t even add your fiancé on Facebook? That’s just bad etiquette. Surely that must mean he has a reason for not wanting to be Blaine’s Facebook friend, something he’s trying to hide. And that isn’t okay with Blaine. At all.
He taps on Kurt’s name on his call list and presses the phone to his ear, listening to it ring and ring. It goes on for longer than it normally does, and he’s just about to end the call when he hears a rumbling laugh and half of the word ‘hello.’ But it isn’t Kurt.
I'm completely the same with Kurt. When I first began watching Glee, as a confused and "there is something different about me, something other than my queerness, and no one understands when i try to tell them my brain isn't like their brains"-y 20yo, I immediately connected to Kurt. It was a huge "oh my god, this character is like me, his brain is like mine" kind of sensation, something I've never had with any other character. No one ever talks about this in fandom, which makes me sad. (cont)
(cont) It’s glaringly obvious to me that Kurt is neuroatypical, but it seems to be a DADT policy around it in fandom. My question, which isn’t really a question, is; all your autistic/neurodivergent!Kurt headcanons, please? One of mine is that when he finally sees a therapist, for something completely unrelated, they happen to be an expert on neurodivergency, and suggest it to him and he just goes “oh my god, someone /sees/ me and my brain for what it is, and they don’t think it’s poisonous”
Yeah, it’s kind of a minefield to start talking about mental health with Kurt, isn’t it? Some idiot inevitably thinks it’s insulting to imply that Kurt is not in total and complete mental health and neurotypicality. Of course, we can’t really diagnose Kurt—he’s a character, first and foremost, so we don’t know anything but what we see on our screens. We can only go off of that.
Going off of that, yes, I see neurological atypicality. I’d personally put him somewhere on the autistic spectrum. We’ve seen his lack of eye contact (seriously, pick a scene where’s he’s looking right at someone and you can see it up close, he’s looking at eyebrows or mouth pretty much every single time). We’ve seen sensory ticks (he rocks back and forth sometimes, stims (see: Nationals S2, when announcing the winners—he bounces and flaps his hands and it is SO STIMMING OMG), lingeringly touches fabrics and other things that give him sensory input (brushing the back wall of the choir room with his hands and head, the way his fingers and hands linger while touching clothing, his *choices* in clothing being highly texturized), the weird combination of grace/clumsiness (he moves like a gazelle, but he trips, and it’s really similar to how a lot of auties/aspies move, because we feel the edges of our body weirdly and sometimes misjudge where it is), his weird relation to people around him and how he’s sort of removed, and that’s just a bare scratching of instances.
So I’m sure if I sat down with the diagnostic criteria for the autistic spectrum and a bunch of auties/aspies and we all sat and watched Kurt scenes, we’d all be nodding like, “Yup. Yup. Been there. Yup.” Because that’s what I’ve done, and that’s what I’ve seen with a bunch of neurologically atypical Gleeks. Most of us who look at Kurt end up with some sense of, “Yes, he is one of my people.” Essentially we start chanting ONE. OF. US. Because I think he is.
And I totally know what you mean, when you feel like you are somehow different than everyone around but you can’t tell them why, because it’s like it’s just on the other side of chain link—your fingers get through, but you can’t quite manage to grab it, you know? It’s like that, I know, for plenty of people diagnosed on the spectrum that are lower spectrum/Asperger’s—because it’s not immediately obvious, because we pass as neurotypical a lot of the time, and the moment you say something like, “I don’t think I’m like other people” they tend to assume awful things. This world has a weird reaction to people thinking that there is something special about them, and with most people, it’s just true—there’s something a little different about us. But of course, we’re perceived as dangerous or terrible or…ugh. I won’t go on. Those of us who are different know what I’m talking about. The world doesn’t like different.
And Kurt knows that. He sticks out everywhere he goes. And we’ve seen him trying to blend in with starting a mainstream band, but it didn’t work there either. He HAD to stand out. Because that’s who he is, he can’t be typical, neurologically or otherwise. But I don’t think he’d ever look into it as, “Am I something that can be defined?” Like, I don’t think he’d ever consider any type of neurological atypicality. He’d probably just put it down to being different, to being raised in a weird situation, to being in the absolute wrong environment for his entire childhood and formative years and into his early adulthood. He’d never push that forward, I don’t think, because no matter how much he’s broken the chains of Lima, there remains a voice in the head of someone who has been constantly and consistently stepped on, and that voice is saying, “You’ll always be boot fodder.” It begs to lie down and flatten oneself, so as to receive less damage when the boot inevitably comes again.
So my headcanon? I wrote fic on this, actually. I think, one day, Kurt and Blaine will have children. And Kurt will be the bio dad of one of those kids. And perhaps he’s the first, because he wants to make sure Burt gets a grandkid like he wants. And I think that child will show some difference—maybe they don’t speak on time, or maybe they have trouble with their motor skills. (Basically, I think Kurt will face what I have faced, and get diagnosed when he realizes his kid is just like him and oops there’s a name for that difference and oh I should probably check that out, huh…)