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18 July 2025 @ 09:04 am
Fic: Together, We are the Oceans (Master Post)  
Media: Fic
Title: Together, We are the Oceans (Part 1/14)
Author: aelora
Rating: PG (Eventual R)
Word Count: 110,109
Summary: The Warblers get the opportunity to spend the holidays in the Caribbean.
Spoilers: For Blaine and the Warblers, basically.
Disclaimer: I have no claim to Kurt and Blaine, which is sad. And also rhymes. All similarities to persons or events are purely coincidental (okay, so maybe art is imitating life here, but names have been changed to protect the semi-innocent). This is homage to Celebrity Cruise Lines. Seriously.
A/N: Special thanks to my beta, dolimir_k. This totally evolved from my recent cruise over the holidays. I think I should feel ashamed—I was working on something far more angsty but then realized I love Klaine most because it means happiness for Kurt, and therefore my Klaine must be happy. And there were so many things about my cruise that kept throwing Klaine in my face (the a cappella group that performed on board, the elderly gay couple celebrating their 25th anniversary, the live band constantly performing “Teenage Dream”) that I couldn’t NOT begin to form the seeds for this fic in my mind. My apologies if it is totally ridic, too fluffy or just plain silly. (In my defense, I have not yet started the Pirate Klaine fic I want to write, so that’s something…) Also, this fic has become far, far lengthier than originally intended. Like, they just left harbor on page 26. IDEK, guys. I want to have this done before ‘Glee’ comes back but we’ll just have to see how that goes…

Banner by the lovely voldything.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine A
Part Nine B
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen A
Part Thirteen B
Part 14 & Epilogue

Warbler practice is starting late.

It’s weird because practice never starts late, and everyone realizes it’s weird because they’re getting restless, cracking jokes, loosening ties—Nick and Jeff have started a thumb wrestling tournament. Kurt watches as the Warblers slowly dissolve into chaos without Wes there to draw them back to order with the crack of his gavel. At the head table, David and Thad haven’t even made an attempt to start practice, apparently enjoying the lull in discipline as they discuss last night’s episode of “Fringe”.

Sitting up a little straighter as he realizes the boys’ disorderliness is beginning to affect him, Kurt leans close to Blaine who has been quietly skimming through his iPod list. “Any idea where Wes is?”

“Said Dr. Gibbons wanted to see him.”

“What could Wes have done to be summoned to the headmaster’s office?”

Blaine shrugs, eyes sparkling a little as he remarks. “Maybe he was reported for over-usage of his gavel?”

Kurt swallows the laugh that threatens. He kind of hates how his mind can make the most innocent comments from Blaine completely dirty.

“So I say we cancel practice today,” Jeremiah calls out from the back of the room just before he gets hit in the side of the head with a wadded up piece of paper. No one seems to know who threw it.

David shakes his head. “Wes’ll be here, and I doubt any of us want to deal with the consequences of him walking into an empty room.”

There are mutters of agreement, and some dissension, from around the room. Kurt can’t help but be amused as he continues to watch the proceedings. “It feels like the stirrings of a mutiny,” he says. “Would they really all just walk out?”

Blaine snorts. “Hardly. They’d spend the night here waiting as long as it means not suffering the Wrath of Wes. He may not seem entirely imposing but he’s got this death glare that’s even brought Holden to tears.”

Kurt tries to picture the big rugby player crying as Blaine gets hit in the side of the head with a paper ball. “Stop spreading lies, Anderson,” Holden warns.

At least now Jeremiah knows the culprit. More paper balls begin to fly around the room. Kurt ducks two of them. Beside him, Blaine smacks one coming toward him and it hits Nick square in the face, causing him to lose that round of thumb wrestling to Jeff.

“You guys, I have the most exciting news!” Wes enters the room, completely ignoring the random comments of “Oh, look who decided to join us?” “Who’s he?” and “Are we there yet?”

He shuts the door behind him, clasping his hands together as he moves toward the head table, his body visibly thrumming with barely contained excitement. It’s enough to quiet the Warblers, who all look on with curiosity when they realize that Wes appears to have completely forgotten about his gavel as he takes his seat.

“So what is this news?” David prompts as he turns toward his friend. “Our competition for Regionals forfeited and we win by default?”

Kurt purses his lips and informs them, “Rachel would have to die first, and even then, I wouldn’t hedge my bets.”

Wes doesn’t even seem to hear them. He lays his palms on the table, and smiles like a kid on Christmas morning. “Are you ready?”

“Dude, you couldn’t have a more captive audience if our heads were sewn to the carpet,” Flint replies, much to the amusement of the others.

Wes’ smile falters only slightly before he continues, “Do you all remember Walter Ramsey?”

Blaine, who Kurt has often thought has the memory of an elephant, is the one to respond. “He’s the Warbler alum from the class of ‘55. He became a billionaire off commercial real estate investments.”

“The very same. He’s always been a big supporter of the Warblers, and apparently came to see us perform at Sectionals. He was extremely impressed with what he saw, and after speaking with a few friends of his—“ Wes pauses for dramatic effect, but anyone can see he is quickly losing the interest of the other boys,”—the Warblers have been invited to perform on the cruise ship Millennium in the Caribbean for ten days over the holidays!”

At first, there is utter and complete silence as if everyone in the room takes in what Wes has just announced and processes it, and then pandemonium breaks loose as everyone begins talking at once. Kurt swears he hears someone utter the words “Glory hallelujah.” As excited as they all are, Kurt can’t help but be a little circumspect—he remembers all too well the consequences of the commercial New Directions filmed last year.

“Wouldn’t something like that disqualify us from Regionals?” he finds himself asking.

Not many of the others seem to be listening, but Blaine tells him, loud enough for the others to hear, “We won’t be paid for it, nor will the trip be comped to us. The Warblers have done things like this before, thanks to Mr. Ramsey. He sent the group three years ago to Europe for two weeks to perform in a couple of festivals. He pays all expenses—he gets the exposure he wants for his beloved Warblers, and we get a free trip.”

“AKA,” David supplies, “No Ohio snow for ten days!” There are hoots and hollers to David’s comment as high-fives are passed between them.

Kurt tries to smile with the others, he really does, but it isn’t easy. Does he want to go on a ten day cruise to the Caribbean with the Warblers, not to mention the boy who consumes his daily thoughts? Hell, yes.

Does he think his dad is going to let him?

Hell, no.


“Lemme get this straight, kiddo. Ten days, in the Caribbean, on a cruise ship, during the holidays?”

Kurt feels his heart sink with each word. “It’s completely paid for, Dad. It wouldn’t cost us a thing, and it’s with the Warblers so it’s part of my extracurricular activities, and you know colleges look at those kinds of things, and we’ll have chaperones and—“

His father’s sigh cuts him off. “Kurt, that’s not the point and you know it. This is our first Christmas together as a family—“

“Dad, please. This is important to me—“

“And you think spending the holidays with my family isn’t important to me? To Carole? To Finn? Aren’t you being a little selfish?”

“I’m not trying to be selfish.” Tears sting Kurt’s eyes over his father’s rebuke, and his own growing disappointment. He hadn’t been thinking, but the memory of that day when he’d chosen a “Sound of Music” sing-along over dinner hits him hard. But, his dad is okay now, and Carole is looking after him, and so many good things are happening in his life, Kurt refuses to imagine that can change. He tries to focus the conversation elsewhere. “I’d be the only Warbler not going.”

“Oh, that it?” His dad’s tone is clipped. “Is that Blaine you’re always talking about gonna be there, too?”

Kurt bites his lip. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Blaine.”

“I doubt that—“

Whatever else his dad might have said is cut off by something Carole is saying in the background. Kurt can’t make out the words, but he can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s trying to calm her husband.

“That’s not it, Carole. He knows better than to pull this crap a week before Christmas break.”

“I’m not pulling crap on you, Dad,” Kurt snaps angrily into the phone. “I just learned about it this evening with the others. None of us knew.”

“Watch your tone with me, kid, or this conversation is gonna be over real quick.”

Kurt barely mutters an apology as the tears spill over onto his cheeks. He wipes at them angrily. This is so unfair!

There’s a soft knock on his door as Carole begins speaking again, and Kurt’s dad says, “Hang on a second.” He hears a hand going over the receiver and mumbled voices through the speaker as his dad and stepmom talk. Kurt looks up as the door to his room slowly pushes open and Blaine peers inside, eyes widening as he realizes Kurt is on the phone.

“I can come back,” he whispers.

Kurt shakes his head quickly, motioning his friend into the room. He seems hesitant at first before quietly stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Blaine moves over to Kurt’s bed and sits down, across from where Kurt is sitting at his desk. He leans forward a little, balancing his elbows on his knees as he watches Kurt, and finally mouths Are you all right?

Compressing his lips in a tight line, Kurt shakes his head again. He really doesn’t want to start bawling in front of Blaine over a stupid cruise.

“Kurt, ya there?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Look, I’m gonna think about this and we’ll talk more tomorrow—“

“Which means no.”

“It means, kid, that we’ll talk more tomorrow. Understood?”

He wants to believe that maybe Carole is on his side; that maybe she’ll talk his dad into saying yes. “Okay.”

“Okay. You have a good night, and I’ll talk to ya later. I love you, Kurt, no matter what you’re thinking right now.”

Kurt dashes at another stray tear. Dammit. “I know, Dad. I love you, too.”

As he sets his phone down on the desk, he says miserably, “He’s not going to let me go.”

“It sounds like there may still be a chance,” Blaine replies.

“’We’ll talk about it later’ is simply my dad’s way of delaying the inevitable.” Kurt looks away as he feels his eyes burning once again.

“Hey.” Blaine reaches over and touches his knee to get his attention. “It’ll all work out, I promise. I’ll mention it to Dr. Gibbons in the morning, and maybe he can put a call in to your dad, explaining what a huge opportunity and stuff this is. You know how adults seem to be able to say things to each other that they won’t listen to from us?”

Kurt shrugs. “I doubt it’ll help.”

“My little optimist,” Blaine teases with a smile.

The way he says ‘my’, as in possession, is just enough to make Kurt forget how upset he is at the moment. It’s enough to coax him into returning Blaine’s smile, and wonder to himself how he’d ever really existed before Blaine came into his life. He may not have everything he wants from Blaine—he may never have that—and he may never have the courage to tell Blaine exactly what he means to Kurt, but just the same, having Blaine in his life is something that continually amazes him. It amazes him even more when Blaine says:

“If your dad’s ultimate answer is no, then I won’t go, either.”

For a long moment, Kurt isn’t entirely certain he heard Blaine correctly, but by the earnest expression on Blaine’s face, he must have. And then Kurt can only give him a look you would focus on the truly insane.

“There’s no way I’d let you do that.”

“There’s no way you’d have a choice.” Blaine gives him another smile. “Kurt, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself knowing you were sad and wishing you were with us. If you have to stay, so will I. We can have our own little Caribbean Christmas here in Ohio. We’ll even go out for seafood or something.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Red Lobster is hardly a substitute for Caribbean lobster tail.”

“I wouldn’t lower myself to taking you to Red Lobster. There’s a McCormick & Schmick’s in Columbus.”

Gently kicking Blaine in the shin with his foot, Kurt tells him fondly, “Don’t be an idiot.”

Smile growing, Blaine leans over to lay his hand on Kurt’s knee once more. “Then don’t be such a pessimist. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”


“You’re what?!”

“Carole and I are going as chaperones.”

Kurt is still positive that he has misheard his dad. It’s one thing to get to go on a cruise for the holidays with your glee club. It’s quite another to do so with your parents in tow. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“That headmaster called this morning—Gibbons, is it? Said he got my concern about letting my kid take off to the Caribbean over Christmas, and asked if Carole and I’d be interested in chaperoning your singing group. Most of our trip will be covered, and we just have to pay for Finn--”

“Wait. Finn’s coming, too?”

“Well, yeah! You didn’t think we’d just leave your stepbrother at home over the holidays, did ya?” His dad laughs on the other end of the line.

Well, actually… Kurt drops onto a bench in the hallway as students move past him. “So, I guess that means we’re all going, then.”

“Seems like it—Be with you in a moment—Look, kiddo, I got a customer waiting. Carole is working on the details with your school, so we’ll call you again soon. Just wanted to give ya the good news!”

Kurt forces a smile into his voice. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the call ends, Kurt sits there in a daze, not even noticing the occasional “Hey, Kurt” being called out to him from classmates as they pass. On the one hand, he’s going on a cruise to the Caribbean with the Warblers. With Blaine. What could be more romantic than a cruise? How could there ever be a more perfect time to maybe admit to Blaine how he feels? It’s hard to put his romanticized idyllic notions aside when this could maybe, possibly, potentially be his first real chance to find out what it’s like to have a boyfriend.


On the other hand, his dad, and his recently acquired stepmom and stepbrother are also going. His dad. And the boy he wants more than anything to be his boyfriend.

Kurt is fairly certain that somewhere in the dictionary, under the definition of “cock block”, his current situation is described for all to see.


Standing beside his Louis Vutton suitcase, the matching carry-on slung over his shoulder, Kurt watches in consternation as the bus driver blithely tosses the Warblers’ luggage into the bus storage compartment with as much care as one would toss garbage. He edges closer to his bag, wondering momentarily if it would fit on his lap in his seat. When the driver finally turns to grab it, Kurt finds himself reaching for the handle possessively not wanting to let it out of his sight, but the man doesn’t seem to notice. He pulls it from Kurt’s sight, flinging it into the compartment while Kurt flinches and tries very, very hard not to whimper out loud. His perfect packing arrangement will doubtfully survive this trip.

And cruise ships don’t allow irons.

Kurt startles slightly when a hand comes down on his shoulder, and he turns to find his dad standing at his side, with Carole and Finn trailing behind him. “Dad, hi.”

He twists to give his dad a hug, a laugh escaping him as his dad embraces him a little too tightly, and then he’s enveloped by Carole as well, both parents behaving as if they haven’t seen him as recently as last weekend.

“Hey, Kurt.” Finn tosses him a wave and smile, but Kurt actually leans over to give him a quick hug, and to his surprise, Finn returns it. “Glee club says hey. Umm, actually Santana threatened you with bodily harm for not finding a way for all of them to come along.”

Mercedes had done the same by text.

Honestly, he hadn’t intended for the Hummel-Hudson’s to be there, but Kurt smiles all the same in response. When he’d told Blaine the news, and how much he was dreading all that would probably happen, his friend had quipped “Well, we could stay here and eat at Red Lobster, if you prefer?”

Blaine’s lucky he’s charming.

And gorgeous.

Burt Hummel begins carrying their luggage over to the bus driver and Kurt is amused to note that their packing fits each of his family members. His dad’s suitcase is medium-sized and weathered with age, likely filled with little more than t-shirt, shorts and one or two suits for dinner. Finn has a duffel bag, and by the random bugles against the fabric, Kurt figures everything was shoved in, with little care for wrinkles or whether or not it had even been washed. Carole’s bag, on the other hand, is as big as his, the use of it only evident by a slight wearing along the leather edging.

His stepmom links her arm with his, and she smells faintly of White Shoulders. She’s looking at him with a big smile. “You excited, honey?”

“My excitement is alleviated by the amount of sun block I had to purchase,” he remarks nonchalantly. But then again, of course he is excited. Who wouldn’t be?

Carole laughs as if she sees right through his comment, and gives his arm a quick squeeze. “We can’t thank you enough for this opportunity. Imagine, all of us spending the holidays together as a family on a cruise!”

Kurt feels his cheeks warm at her gratitude, though really he thinks it should be Blaine she needs to thank. He hasn’t said as much, but Kurt has the suspicion that the entire chaperone thing had been his idea. It was David who mentioned a few weeks back that Dr. Gibbons had harbored a soft spot for Blaine from his first day at Dalton.

“Are one of these boys Blaine?” she asks quietly, her eyes scanning the group of Warblers gathered around the entrance to the bus.


Kurt feels his cheeks flame at how obviously everyone in his family knows about his feelings for Blaine. His brow furrows as he suddenly realizes Blaine isn’t there yet. In fact, neither are Wes and David. He cranes his head around, searching the parking lot before he finally spies the three friends cutting across the courtyard toward them. Wes and David are out in front, hands filled with papers, gesturing wildly back and forth as both seem to be speaking over one another. Blaine is following, wheeling two suitcases behind him, one large leather duffel slung over his right shoulder, and his own carry-on over his left shoulder.

Shaking his head, Kurt excuses himself from his stepmom’s side and moves over to meet them, flashing Wes and David a look they don’t even notice as he grabs one of the suitcases and the carry-on from Blaine.

“Thanks.” Blaine offers a smile that would make carrying a full-sized trunk worth it.

“What’s going on with them?” Kurt asks as he and Blaine make their way over to the bus, and the dreaded bus driver, Destroyer of Luggage.

“They’re arguing over our set list.”

“Wait. I thought that had already been decided?” Kurt pauses as the driver goes to take the bags from him, and has yet another fleeting thought of simply not handing them over.

“It has been. But I kind of threw a wrench into it when I told them about my idea for our duet.”

Kurt ducks his head to hide the flush he feels at the memory of two nights ago. He’d been studying for the last of his exams in one of the common rooms when Blaine had entered with boom box in hand. After teasing Kurt for studying so hard, he explained that he had an idea for them to sing Baby It’s Cold Outside together on the cruise. He’d asked if Kurt was interested—of course he was interested!—and they’d rehearsed it. Surprisingly, or maybe not so, Kurt felt their version had been better than any version ever sang. They’d flirted, with Kurt leading Blaine on a merry chase around the room in a manner he’d only imagined in his daydreams—only at those moments there was a lot less chasing and a lot more surrendering but that didn’t quite fit with the song.

“So, they’re okay with it?” he asks tentatively.

Blaine gives him one of those really special looks that say Kurt just asked something supremely stupid and obvious. He doesn’t give the look often, and even if it is leveled at him, Kurt can’t help but smile back at him.

“Of course they’re okay with it. Only now, David wants to go with a few more less traditional Christmas songs, which Wes doesn’t agree with, and they both think that if we’re willing to do a duet for the Christmas performances, then perhaps we should also do one for our regular set list.”

Kurt bites his lip. “We’ll be singing another song together?”

“We’ll steal the show.” Blaine gives him a conspiratorial wink as he bumps his shoulder into Kurt’s.

“Okay, boys! Everyone on board!” Mr. Price, the faculty advisor to the Warblers, calls out.

“Come on.” Blaine places his hand against Kurt’s back, guiding him forward toward the steps. “Let’s grab a seat before we get stuck sitting next to any of the stinky guys.”

“You’re the only one who’s stinky, Anderson,” Flint responds as he follows them onto the bus. “I think it’s the hair gel.”

Kurt bites back the scathing remark that automatically springs to his tongue in Blaine’s defense because his friend is laughing and throwing a good-natured punch into Flint’s shoulder. “Trust me. The gel saves us all. Otherwise I’m a Filipino Shirley Temple, and you really don’t want to see that.”

There’s laughter around them and mock expressions of horror at the vision, someone suggests that Blaine should sing The Good Ship Lollipop on the cruise. Kurt’s giggling at the image when he notices his dad waving him toward the back of the bus where he is sitting with Carole—there are two free seats in front of them. Finn is across the aisle seated next to John where they’re already engrossed in a conversation about sports. Kurt is about to ask Blaine if he minds sitting by his dad and Carole but his friend is already making his way toward the back of the bus, hand extended toward the elder Hummel.

“Blaine Anderson, sir.”

Kurt walks up behind him; gaze trained on his dad who is eyeing Blaine as if he were a particularly troublesome intake manifold.

“Blaine, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Carole reaches past her husband to shake Blaine’s hand as Kurt moves in to the seat next to the window, crossing his legs and trying very hard to look as if he’s not actually listening.

“And you, Mrs. Hummel.”

“Please, honey, call me Carole.”

As Blaine turns to introduce himself to Finn, Carole leans forward between the seats to squeeze Kurt’s shoulder. “He’s very handsome, Kurt,” she whispers.

Burt grunts at her words.

Kurt tries not to smile too much as Blaine takes the seat beside him. Leaning toward him, the boy whispers, “Well, that was relatively painless.”

Only because there are witnesses, Kurt thinks but gives his friend a smile.

At the front of the bus, Mr. Price is instructing everyone to check one more time to make certain they have their passports and student ID’s on them. Kurt checks his pocket just to be safe. They’d had to spend extra money to expedite his because apparently everyone in the Warblers had been out of the country at least once except him. Having a passport, though, makes him feel very cosmopolitan, like he can suddenly go anywhere he wishes. He startles slightly when he feels Blaine’s fingers pluck at his sleeve. He turns his head to find Blaine is very close—close enough to see the entrancing mixture of green and gold that makes up the color of his eyes.

“I bet we regret not going to Red Lobster,” Blaine deadpans as the bus lurches forward.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’ll take you there for your birthday.”

( Sing to me )
RoTyND: glee clappingrotynd on January 22nd, 2011 - 05:36 am
Best. Cockblock. Ever.

Seriously this is so adorable and amazing, and my only problem is that if I could sneak into your room and steal your ability to write Blaine I would do it, he's so dead on. I love this already.