I was a taller girl too, once. (regala_electra) wrote,
I was a taller girl too, once.

Fic: Ben Has Two Gay Friends (SPN/Glee, Kurt/Blaine, Ben/Other, Sam/Dean, R) 1/2

Ben Has Two Gay Best Friends
A Glee/Supernatural Cracktacular Crossover
Author: Regala Electra
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (Sam/Dean, Ben/Santana, Ben/Other)
Rating: R
Spoilers: AU after SPN S3 The Kids are Alright, Glee S2 Blame It on the Alcohol
Warnings: Language, Sexual Content
Word Count: 11,575 (posted in two parts)
Summary: Where Ben Winchester transfers to Dalton and either helps or ruins Kurt Hummel’s life depending on who’s telling the story. A stirring tale of dude-bonding, how Blaine Anderson is temporarily categorized to be a douche bro under the estimation of a Mr. B. Winchester, a mystery of a slow-motion hallway is never solved, the heartbreak of first love is nursed via playing fairy godmother to a pair of lovestruck idiots, a GTO might actually save the day, and there is awesome air guitaring. The less said about the accidental almost-stabbing the better.
Author’s Notes: Original prompt was Ben at Dalton and the incurable charm of the Winchester genes. Belatedly written for ignited’s birthday. I believe I owe an undying supply of unsweetened iced tea to fourfreedoms for a fantastic beta. This is set within my Ben Has Two Dads ‘verse but the prologue summarizes what's happened previously so you don’t need to read that story. Soundtrack & additional story notes posted at the end.

All you need to know is that Ben is a senior year student at Dalton Academy, has indeed gone on some awesome hunts with Sam and Dean, and is plotting to get Kurt and Blaine together. Did I mention he had two gay dads? Cause he kinda does. It’s a long story. But let him explain it. Or let him tell you about that one time he totally stole a car. That’s a good story too.


As all epic stories go, once upon a time there were two awesome Winchesters who died for each other a lot and sometimes managed not to screw everything up and save the world a little on the side.

This is one of those stories after a fashion but it features a particular teenager who lately goes by the name Ben Winchester As chronicled in the tale Ben Has Two Dads Uncles, he became a Winchester and lo, there were many adventures between him and his new family, as they did slay almost a dragon, if one is to believe Dean Winchester because that tale is pretty badass.

There were mermaids defeated in Florida at the very least and hey, mermaids will fuck your shit up.

Thus, Ben Winchester did grow up, traveling the country and while his education was a bit more chaotic than the average student, he did have his moments of near apple pie life, real stability, where he got to experience the glory of awkward high school drama. It was in Texas during his junior year where he met a feisty woman, the exact kind of girl doomed to capture a Winchester heart, and upon her graduating high school, she broke it with the kind of precision only afforded to that first young love experienced by a most foolhardy Winchester.

Now these Winchester men have a teenaged boy in need of a good final year of education for though his father might have a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude, his son should at least be afforded a few opportunities before his bullheaded Winchester je ne sais quois leads him right back into the family business.

To Ohio, therefore, they went, in pursuit of a good boarding school, seemingly an ideal place for a couple of traveling hunters and their stubborn ward to form a temporary base as Ben finishes out his school year. (See? This totally makes Dean Batman. Sam can be Alfred.)

And now, our story, of a kid just trying to find his way in the world while knowing there’s so much more than the humdrum rush of everyday life, can begin.

He’s not gonna screw up anything. Because he’s a Winchester.

Being a Winchester means win, after all. It’s in the name and everything.


Logically Ben knows that going to Dalton is a good choice. The last year in Texas had been something of a miserable bust when Noelle epically dumped him right before her graduation and he hadn’t been looking forward to his senior year, moping over every place in the town that reminds him of her. Ohio’s a lot closer to Indiana and he’s promised Mom that he’s going to visit her on the long weekends and now that he’s got his own car he doesn’t even have to rely on Dad and Sam to be his transportation.

Still, there’s a few weird things about Dalton.

First of all, there’s the fact that he’s pretty sure one of the hallways, off of the main staircase, is haunted. Time slows down and while no one’s been killed yet, anything could happen and it could very well kill them slowly.

Then there’s the Warblers. It’s like he’s got to be on constant alert for any moment that they’ll burst into song. The senior commons seems to be their favorite place of attack. Which should be a sign that Ben ought to study in his room but since he transferred relatively late (look, were-kittens are trickier to defeat than you’d think and it was an all hands on deck kind of hunt), his roommate is an underclassman named Kurt who is really fond of music that Ben has no desire to hear on a regular basis.

He’s pretty sure some of it is stuff he’s caught Sam listening to but Sam would probably deny it. Showtunes and longing ballads, and a lot of weird dance music that Ben suspects is Lady Gaga though Ben’s avoided pop thanks to Dad’s intense education that only covers the last great eras of rock.

Whenever Kurt’s out practicing with the Warblers, Ben puts his tunes on his souped up stereo (a gift from Sam for his birthday last year, not as awesome as his car from Dean, but Ben can’t keep his car in his room), and rocks the fuck out. If he’s listening to a playlist that he made to get over Noelle, well fuck you, he needs to hear it sometimes.

He’s halfway through Run to the Hills, rocking his air guitar for all its worth when he hears a dry voice say, “Like I suspected. Definitely straight.”

“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Ben says, no good way to drop out of his rocking pose on top of his bed. “You guys ended practice early.”

“Are you going to keep playing that…noise?”

Ben’s learned a lot about his roommate in the just-over-a-week that they’ve been living together. Kurt’s got a lot of moods, most of them bitchy and a lot of them quiet but full of meaning. It’s kind of weird since he’s gotten so used to Dad and Sam’s energy, which is sometimes grossly…intimate, for lack of a better word, but still total dude, almost all the time. Kurt’s way different. He’s kind of stuck up and a little, well, Ben guesses, he’s prissy.

“Nah, I’ll turn it off.”


“So how was practice?”

“You actually want to know?”

Not really, but Ben’s done getting cross-eyed over stupid math questions that don’t answer how the fuck a slow-motion hallway is even possible without some major spooky shit happening. He’d tossed down some salt yesterday but it had gotten cleaned up over night so clearly that wasn’t going to be a good measure of figuring it out.

“Uh, making conversation.”

“You’ve barely spoken to me since you moved in,” Kurt points out and yeah, that’s true. “With only a duffel bag.”

Ben has the distinct impression that Kurt’s insulting him, but whatever, his duffel bag is awesome. “Learning the ropes. First time in an all-dude’s school. How do I know you’re not secretly crazy?”

“Good to know that you suspect me of insanity. I’m gay,” Kurt says, a bit of a challenge in his voice, raising his chin. As if it wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyes. “But I’m definitely not secretly planning to shave your head in the dead of night.”

“I know,” Ben says, wondering why Kurt’s looking at him like he expects him to…what?

Oh shit, he thinks Ben’s weirded out that Kurt’s into guys. “Look, I told admissions I didn’t care who my roommate was since they were fitting me in so late. My dad’s—”

And this is always the weird part, because his dad isn’t gay, or like, he’s just gay for Sam and it’s something that Ben doesn’t think too hard about because they’ve done a great job at not like overdoing it with the PDAs, and there’s the other part of their relationship that’s kind of not kosher at all. But Ben loves them both and he’s not letting anyone judge them for that, so he hasn’t even given a flying fuck about other guys being man-friendly. He’s not about to be a dick to some guy who likes dick.

“My parents raised me right,” Ben hedges, because sometimes he’s pretty sure Dad doesn’t think bringing him into the hunting world is being raised right, but there’s no way Ben would ever accept not fighting what he knows goes bump in the night. Turns out stubborn Winchester genes don’t ever skip a generation. “And uh, my dad’s...well I’ve got two dads.”

It’s a lame finish, but Kurt’s mouth is hanging open in shock and that’s a look Ben’s gotta appreciate, seeing how Kurt’s kind of okay when the smug’s wiped clean off his face. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Not something I advertise. People can be judgmental pricks.” Ben walks over to Kurt, who’s still frozen stock-still and he puts a hand on his shoulder, trying for friendly and hopefully not failing. “You’re not judging me, are you, prick?”

“I’m going to guess that’s your attempt at bonding?”

Ben shrugs. “Dude bonding.”

Kurt’s smile is pretty nice; he should do it more often. “It’s not every day I’m called a dude.”


So he and Kurt are kind of friends now. Friends who have no shared interests besides agreeing that the slow motion hallway is weird and that for sanity’s sake, they both need alone time in the room (and not just like that, but well, also like that). So they’ve set up shifts for keeping the peace and today is Ben’s day to skedaddle and he’s hoping the library is free from Warbler attacks.

Which is how he gets to have his first conversation with that dude always hanging around Kurt.

“I’m Blaine,” and Ben barely looks up from his notes to accept his handshake.

“I’m studying.”

“Really? I thought your name was Ben.”

“I’m Ben. Studying. Nice to meet you,” Ben says, as polite as possible because it’s rude to curse in a library. Or rather, he’s fought a library that attacked people who swore (haunted by a bitch of a librarian) and he’s not about to discover another one because no, he’s got a test and no desire to do self-triage post-battling the evil forces of an angry library. Encyclopedias can leave nasty welts.

“I thought Kurt might be with you,” Blaine says, pleasant and totally not taking the hint to go the fuck away.

“And why would you think that?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

There’s an underlying implication there that Ben really doesn’t like. Plus Blaine sounds jealous which makes his charming act all the more annoying. Sure, Ben’s awesome but he’s not about to jack another dude’s boy even if he was into dudes.

Hell he waited like, a month for Noelle after she dumped her asshole boyfriend before he asked her out. Shit. He’s gone almost a whole day without thinking about her. Well, now he’s got no need to be polite to this Blaine asshole.

“Did you check his room? Or the ballroom? Or maybe the ballpit?”

“We don’t have a ball—” Blaine cuts himself off, realizing that Ben’s fucking with him. “Very funny. You know we have a zero tolerance policy here—”

“I know,” Ben interrupts.

“So if you have a problem with—”

“Gay dads,” Ben says, again cutting off Blaine, since it’s easier than the wretched explanation he gave to Kurt and he’s pretty sure Dad’ll forgive him for calling him gay since he is in big gay love with Sam after all, and it only took him a few years to finally admit it. “Don’t care what you do as long as you don’t—”

“What? Be gay in front of you?”

Whoa. Dude’s got issues. “No, man. If you give me a second, I was gonna say, it’s all good so long as you don’t get all bitchy at me trying to steal your boyfriend or something.”

“Kurt is not my boyfriend,” Blaine says, automatically like he’s practiced it in a mirror.

Ben feels bad for Blaine and his epic denial for exactly one second. Then he thinks about it for about two seconds and realizes that Blaine is being possessive of a guy who he’s not even dating.

“Wow, you’re a dick.” Hopefully that doesn’t set off any ghostly librarians.

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t know where Kurt is. You could text him, like a normal person, or you can stalk every other guy who talks to him, but I’m not gonna sit here and deal with a guy in denial. Peace out, douche bro.”

Before Blaine can offer any other bullshit protests, that he’s just a friend, or whatever, Ben stalks out of the library, like a fucking boss.

Well, almost like a boss, because he quickly ducks into an empty classroom and starts hyperventilating because fuck, Noelle. She’d given him almost the same speech when he’d tried cozying up to her while she’d been dating someone else.

She’d even called him douche bro. It was one of her favorite nicknames for him, mostly when he was being an idiot, although she’d also use dicksmack a lot. Especially when he would show off in front of her and inevitably fall on his ass.

He’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be over her by now. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to go. Whatever, he hopes she’s real fucking happy.

Sometimes he lets himself believe that. It hurts worse that way.


“Blaine totally wants a ride on your disco stick.”

Kurt swivels around on his chair (a pretty nice one that clearly didn’t come with the room), a cotton ball full of some kind of moisturizing nonsense frozen halfway to his face.

“I see you’ve been listening to my Lady Gaga playlist,” Kurt says, a little too airily, so it sounds like he’s wheezing a little.

“Nah, Dean’s been saying that for a while.”


“Oh. Dad. Sometimes I call him Dean. Long story.”

There’s really no way to easily segue into the whole story of how he found out Dean was really his dad without sounding all weird, considering most of it revolves around things that no one else knows really exists.

“Okay,” Kurt says, deciding to drop it.

“So. Blaine.”

“No,” Kurt says, confident in that at least. “No, Ben. We’re not talking about what Blaine wants. I don’t even think Blaine understands what he wants. We are not going to lady chat about it.”

“Lady chat, huh? You know, that’s what my dad would call it when Sam would try to talk to me about love and shit.”

“As appealing as it sounds to talk about love and shit, I think I’ll save it for my actual friends.”

Ben’s really starting to appreciate Kurt’s sarcasm. It does weirdly remind him of Sam, who he misses despite the weekly phone call that Sam springs on him to make sure Ben’s not fucking around and skipping his homework while he and Dean are up in the Ozarks battling mutated creepy crawlies.

“You know, I tried to do the whole friends thing with someone I loved. Eventually we realized we were being dumbasses, well, I realized it. She knew all along but was waiting for me to catch up.”

“And what happened?”

“It was perfect. We loved each other,” Ben admits. “Then she broke my fucking heart.”

Kurt’s mouth twists in an ugly way. “You’re fantastic at motivation.”

All Ben says is, “It was worth it.”

He’s gotta believe that, or it wouldn’t be worth hurting so fucking much.


So what if he’s using his awesome hunting abilities to spy on Kurt and Blaine? His skills will atrophy if he doesn’t put them to good use and hey, it turns out the Warblers aren’t that bad to listen to though they do sing a lot of crappy Top 40.

It’s not that hard to notice how totally into each other they are. It’s kind of obnoxious how careful they both are not to make a fucking move. He wonders briefly if this is what it looked like on the outside when he was totally falling for Noelle, which would explain why her lunkhead boyfriend tried to beat the crap out of him.

Too bad Ben’s got fighting skills care of being a badass and learning the best from Dean. It’s not fighting dirty if you’re kicking ass. However he thinks his fighting skills aren’t exactly the best way to convince Kurt and Blaine to finally kiss and make out.

“Are you planning on joining the Warblers?” Kurt asks one afternoon when the impromptu Warblers session ends in the usual amount of applause.

“Nah, I haven’t been able to sing Stairway right since my voice broke.”

Sometimes Ben says this shit just for the nauseated look in Kurt’s face. They’ve barely talked about Kurt’s old school (all Ben really knows is that he’s a recent transfer too) but from what he’s picked up, Kurt’s old glee club did a lot of rock numbers that Kurt most definitely was not a fan of, which is a little tragic. The poor bastard wouldn’t know good music if it snuck up on him.

“So you’re just an admirer of my vocal talents.”

“You do have a good voice,” Ben admits, because it is true and there’s no reason to deny Kurt an earned compliment.



“Come on, Ben. You’ve been hanging out more and more. Blaine’s been getting agitated by it, I honestly think he believes you’re gay.”

“Just because I’m pretty doesn’t make me gay.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Yes, you’re very attractive, I greatly appreciate that your shirt tail is zipped into your pants. Trying a new fashion trend?”

It’s awesome luck. The moment Kurt’s asking this, Blaine’s heading over, clearly trying to casually interrupt the conversation in a way that’ll be polite but also grossly get away from my man even though I’m making it my mission to cockblock us into the friendzone forever, something that Ben is just so not down with, as per the bro code. Kurt’s kind of his bro in a way, and he’s gonna get the boy laid if it kills him. So Ben plays the card he’s been dealt.

“Hey, at least it got you to look.”

Ben expects a lot of things to possibly happen. Kurt’s biting sarcasm or an annoyed huff of breath, perhaps even a smack on his chest. What he did not expect was a surprised laugh, the kind of flirty, dirty laugh that Ben’s produced from well, girls. He raises his eyebrows because really, game on, Hummel. Ben can so win this flirt-off and if he glances over his shoulder to see Blaine’s usual calm mask utterly crack, well it’s worth it.

He only hopes Kurt noticed it too.

“You’re awful, Ben,” Kurt says, but clearly he means that Ben’s awesome, which is to be expected, because Ben’s a fucking rock star, even without singing.

Originally he’s pretty sure his motive in getting these two stupid guys to finally give it up to each other was all he wanted, but now he’s starting to think he wouldn’t mind having an actual friend. Call it a side mission or an extra bonus or whatever the fuck.

Slinging an arm around Kurt as they walk out of the room, he says, “Awful meaning the best person in the whole fucking world, right?”

“Classy as always,” Kurt says, not even giving Blaine a second glance.

Oh. Well. Fuck.

Hey. At least maybe this way, something’ll give. Ben’s not a miracle worker and the few miracle workers he does know aren’t able to work a little mojo over love.

It’s dangerous to fuck with love like that.

Ben should probably feel a little guilty but once they’re way out of earshot, Kurt mutters, “I think I know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?”

“Not yet.”

“Hey. That’s better than a solid no. You stick with me, and you’ll be sticking it to Blaine in no time.”

“You’re kind of a romantic, aren’t you?”

“You say that like it’s a surprise. I’m still mooning over my ex. She dumped me in June. That’s serious love right there.”

Kurt stops them in the hallway.

“Maybe I could help with that.”

“Well, like I said, I’m cool with guys liking dick, but it’s not something I’ve ever had the munchies for, you know?”

“Okay, that’s disgusting,” Kurt says, wrinkling his nose. “And no, I didn’t mean that. I know cheerleaders. Well. Ex-cheerleaders.”


“Exactly. Oh. You have a particular type?”

“Um.” Under his dad’s tutelage, Ben has learned that there’s no reason to deny a chick based solely on stupid shit like blondes are hotter or something. Briefly, he flashes on Noelle, the way she’d tied up her dreds with a fucking hot pink scrunchie and was the hottest chick in the entire state of Texas when she flashed that little half-smile of hers and oh fuck, he’s supposed to be answering a question. “Single.”

“Your criteria is single? Well,” Kurt says, considering the options, “that can be arranged.”

“Um. Not in a cult? Ideally.”

Ben’s not terribly fond of evil cults. Up until Noelle popped his cherry, he’d have to be extra-vigilant when he, Dad, and Sam were up against cults; they really liked their virgin sacrifices.

“So no one too religious? Again, that’s not too hard to find among my contacts.”

“You kinda sound like a pimp.”

Kurt laughs. “Who says I’m not? I’ll have you know I have some pretty fabulous hats.”

Ben’s starting to realize that he should be worried when Kurt raises his eyebrow. It's almost diabolical.


Ben loves Kurt.

He loves him in that wonderful straight dude loving on a gay dude way of utter bromance for life, because Ben has just gotten laid with no consequences and it feels so fucking good.

Well. Sort of laid. If oral counts, and Ben honestly counted it as foreplay before, but beggars ought not to be choosers, so laid it is.

He’s climbing into the window way past curfew, but there’s a reason why he’s learned rappelling and sneaking into buildings is needed in his line of work.

“What the hell?”

“Oh,” Ben says as he’s still pulling himself into the room, one of his legs dangling over the sill, “you’re awake.”

“Yes, I was a little worried you were dead or Santana ate your heart or something.”

“I believe,” Ben says, trying for dignified but totally gloating, “That all the eating was done on my part to the lady. Particularly in between her thighs. I went down on her.”

“Any favor I ever think to do for you in the future will be negated by that overshare.”

“Dude, oral sex is a healthy part of any relationship.”

“You’re dating Santana now? Also, gross.”

“Well, no. I think it’s a one night stand. She told me ‘don’t text me, I’ll text you’ so I’m pretty sure that was her way of letting me down nicely.”

“Santana. Nice,” Kurt says, dubiously.

“Orgasms make people nice,” Ben says, a little defensively. Sure, Santana was mean and called him a rentboy (hey he can’t help favorable genetics) but she did get into a much better mood as the evening progressed.

God, Ben’s forgotten how dumb-happy he gets after sex.

“I’m learning all kinds of wonderful things about you tonight. You know how to rappel, how to make Santana non-repellant, and have ensured that I will never understand straight sex.”

“It’s like gay sex, but with another place to stick your dick.”

Kurt scrubs his face with his hands for a long moment before he finally deigns to speak. “Stop saying words.”

“Kurt,” Ben says, sincerely, because right now all he wants to do is hug the world, and he might be smiling manically but that’s okay, because the world loves him right back. “I truly wish that when Blaine finally mans the fuck up that he goes down on you with as much skill as I have experienced this night. And gusto, because it’s not talent that makes it awesome, it’s loving the fuck out of fucking.”

Kurt stiffly walks back to his bed, settling back down and drawing the covers over his body. “I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that. So that I don’t throttle you to death.”

“Are you worried because you’ve never had sex before? Look even if the first time isn’t awesome, you can always try, try again. That’s the best part.”

“Hate you,” Kurt calls out as he turns off his bedside lamp.

“You love me,” Ben says confidently, shucking off his clothes before changing into a clear pair of boxers. “You helped me get laid.”

“Never again,” comes the reply in the darkness.

“You’re right. It’s time for me to return the favor. Ow.”

Kurt’s got some impressive aim for someone tossing a pillow in the dark.


Ben’s nowhere close to mastering mechanics on the fly like Dad can, but he’s pretty good. He damn well better be because his baby might be the finest piece of ass on the road, but when she’s feeling like it, she can be a major bitch.

She is not fond of the colder conditions in Ohio, since she’d been born out of Dad’s hands in the heat of Texas. Sometimes she acts up, just a little, without provocation, until it’s time for Ben to get elbows deep in grease, trying to solve a riddle he can barely read. He really wishes Dad, or even Sam was within driving distance this week, but they’re off in Florida and the one thing Ben’s taken away from his few trips down there is that Florida is really fucking weird and whatever they’re hunting, it’s gonna keep them a good long while.


“Kurt!” Ben almost slams his head on the open hood as he stands up. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Well, you were yelling at your car. At least, I hope this is your car.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” Ben grumbles. “I was encouraging.”

“A likely story. Restored GTO, huh? I figured you’d be into the classics but this is a little nicer than I thought.”

“You’re lucky I’m so used to you insulting my excellent taste,” Ben says, feebly trying to wipe some of the grease off of his hands. “Yeah, my dad built her from a total rust bucket and she’s been doing okay, except for today. I’m a decent mechanic but my dad’s awesome. She needs awesome today.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve heard you admit you’re not awesome,” Kurt says, a little surprised. He’s unbuttoning his coat as he speaks and before Ben can ask what the hell, Kurt’s rooting through his tools spread out on the ground. “You really need to take better care of these.”

“I know,” Ben says automatically, hearing his dad in Kurt’s words. He hasn’t had as much opportunity to work on the car and that’s probably why she’s out of sorts. Then realizing that Kurt Hummel is fucking around inside his baby, he says, “Hey, do you know what you’re doing?”

“My dad’s a mechanic,” Kurt says dismissively, as if that’s all the answer Ben deserves.

“So’s my dad. Kind of. He’s a jack of all trades.”

“Good for your dad,” Kurt mutters. “Actually wait, I mean it, he rebuilt this engine from scratch? I’m impressed.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Weirdly, Ben is actually happy that Kurt approves. His judgment is rarely offered in the positive so he savors the small victory. “My dad spent last year working on her. A birthday present for me.”

“Well, a lot of love when into this,” Kurt says when he surfaces. “But you need a couple of new parts, nothing major but I doubt you have them in your trunk.”

“Tell me your dad has them in his shop.”

“He does, but I doubt you want to waste your Friday and Saturday going out to Lima, since I’m not wasting my entire weekend driving you back here so that we can get it fixed. You could call a tow truck and get someone local to the job but—”

“Kurt,” Ben says with all the sincerity he can muster, hand on his chest, “I will marry you this instant if it would save my baby.”

“That is one of the most disturbing sentences I have ever heard.” It’s probably true considering that any attempts at further broaching the subject of sex and any questions Kurt might have about the wonders of a good blowjob have been artfully shut down ever since Ben’s post-orgasm happy ramble.

Though Kurt really does need to know that if he plans to spit he has to at least broadcast that before letting a guy come into his mouth. It’s just rude not to give a guy a head’s up. Heh. Head.

“You’d have to change your last name to mine. I’m not becoming Ben Hummel.”

He says this very loudly since once again Blaine’s Kurt-sense has gone haywire and he’s on the hunt and hungry like the wolf for Kurt, because how dare he spend more than five minutes in the presence of Ben.

“You’re insane.”

“Kurt Winchester. Think about it,” he says and he totally gets a splotch of grease on Kurt’s nose when he bops him.

“You bastard!”

“Everything all right?”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt says, trying to straighten up and look cool even with grease on his face. Well Ben can’t fault a guy for trying to impress. “We’re fine. Ben’s having a little car trouble.”

“I see,” Blaine says, eyeing Ben’s car disdainfully, and if he weren’t such a short, ridiculous dude, Ben would mark him as an enemy for life for dissing his lady. “Any luck?”

“Yes, because it turns out his good friend knows a thing or two about cars.” Kurt definitely deserves the smug satisfaction in self-congratulating himself so Ben doesn’t make any sarcastic comments about how Kurt can't brag at how manly he is when he almost banned Ben from their room for eating Cheetos in the vicinity of Kurt’s bed. “You don’t mind a third wheel to our trip back to Lima, right? I’ve got to get a couple of parts from dad’s shop, and then I’ll be able to fix Ben’s car when we get back to school Saturday evening.”

Blaine works his jaw for a couple of seconds as he tries to process the most polite way to say hell no before he responds with, “No, of course not,” because he is a polite, whipped motherfucker when it comes to Kurt.

How has Ben not used that bit of intel yet?

Man, get laid once and you really screw up your long-term mission.

“Great! Ben, do you have your duffel ready? I hope you don’t mind crashing at my house overnight. There’s a couch with your name on it.”

“Well when you put it that way, how can I resist your couch?”

Double innuendo for the win. Blaine looks like he’s about to explode.

Closing the hood of his baby, he thinks she might have done him a good turn. Messing with Blaine will be much easier with them cooped up in Kurt’s ride and maybe he might make some headway in getting those two crazy kids together.


Coffee at the Lima Bean is something of an event rather than just coffee. That he and Blaine have the same order of a medium drip is hilarious and irritates Blaine on the principal of the matter or something. Though Ben doesn’t sully it with cinnamon, for fuck’s sake.

When the obviously anticipated visit of two of Kurt’s friends kicks off, that’s when shit gets real.

The short, cute-in–an-intense-way brunette, Rachel practically mauls him upon hearing that Ben’s straight and he’s got two gay dads. Which is kind of true but still, it doesn’t make them soul mates no matter how many crazy-eyed looks she throws his way. Mercedes is cooler and reminds him of Noelle sorta, probably since she doesn’t take any shit and fondly rolls her eyes when Kurt gets overly enthusiastic that the Warblers might consider an actual Broadway tune for competition.

“I don’t sing,” Ben informs the table at large and it’s satisfying to see Rachel’s manic glimmer fade at his confession. “But Kurt sounds pretty good. Blaine’s okay too, I guess.”

God, it’s getting to be way too fun. Ben swears that Blaine’s angrily chomping down on his biscotti. He wonders what’ll get Blaine to start shredding his napkin.

“It’s a shame you don’t have any interest in music,” Rachel begins before Kurt interrupts her.

“No, he does. While he’s tragically stuck in early 80s most of the time, I have learned to appreciate the quality of Robert Plant’s voice when he’s in his 70s mood.”

This is news to Ben and he can’t help being a little touched. Led Zeppelin is what he listens to when he’s really missing hanging with Dad and Sam. It’s not like being homesick, not at all, because there’d have to be a home to be sick after, but it’s close.

“Really,” Ben asks, unable to help himself. “What song?”

“Despite how many times you listen to Immigrant Song over and over again, I actually look forward to hearing When the Levee Breaks.”

“That’s my dad’s favorite. Well, his secret favorite.”

“You must really miss your dad, huh?” Mercedes asks, the understatement of the year.

“Yeah. I mean. I didn’t even know he was really my dad until I was thirteen,” and he stops at that, realizing that save for Noelle, he’s never told that to anyone, not the people that he once considered friends of a sort until he moved on to the next school and the next.

No, he never told anyone that, because he figured it was too messy and too important to say to people he’d never see again and here he is spilling the truth to these people, near strangers, even Kurt.He realizes that he wants them to know about him, so desperately, if only to make sense of it himself. Fuck it, he knows who he is, but sometimes, he wonders where he’s going to go with all the strange shit in his life shaping him into this weird balance of utterly awesome badass and awkward teenager who knows too much, much too soon.

“Go on,” Kurt says finally, when the silence stretches too long. “What about—about your mother?”

Ben files that hesitation away, he’s never heard anything about Kurt’s mom, though he’s aware that his dad is remarried and Kurt’s got a stepbrother the same age as him. “Well she’s still in Indiana. That’s where I’m from. She got married recently. But I didn’t know who my dad was growing up. Uh, it’s a really long story, but when I was younger, I kind of met him, only my mom didn’t say he was my dad at the time. Then I found out when I was thirteen. So I ran away to find him.”

It’s no surprise, the chorus of questions, but he’s mostly shocked by Blaine’s question, which is almost kind. Hey, maybe beneath the hair gel, denial, and carefully constructed persona, there’s a real person in there somewhere.

“How did you survive on your own?”

“Dumb luck? Luck of a Winchester.” No one laughs and he realizes that it’s a family saying, a hunter saying, and his mom is the only possible outsider to get it. “Dean, uh, Dad, was pissed I ran off but I guess my luck was still working ‘cause I got to stay with him, and uh, Sam.”

“Your other dad?” Rachel asks.

“I guess,” Ben says because it’s the easiest way to explain it. “Of course, I thought he was Uncle Sam for a while. My dad didn’t really want to explain it.”

“He didn’t want you to know he was gay?” Mercedes asks, sharing a brief look with Kurt.

“God, no. I guess—look, it’s uh, weird, but my dad likes chicks, I mean, he likes women too. A lot.” He thinks about laying on the cheese then, lifting an eyebrow and saying, got all my best tricks from him but he quickly discards the idea figuring it would be confusing at best.

“Bisexual,” Kurt says, after a hesitation, curiously directing the comment to Blaine, of all people. He refuses to look Kurt in the eyes, but there’s a brief frown that crosses Blaine’s face.

“More like Sam-sexual. Oh god,” Ben says, shutting his eyes. “Gross. Parent sex. I am not thinking about it. It’s my—family, you know? I really don’t want to know. We don’t talk about it.”

“That doesn’t seem very healthy,” Rachel begins to say before wincing, obviously from a well-delivered kick care of Kurt.

“Do you ask about what goes on between the sheets in your parents’ bedroom?” Or living room floor, Ben briefly thinks, an unbidden memory flitting across his mind before he successfully re-blocks it.

The simultaneous shudders from the table are answer enough.

“New topic, perhaps,” Kurt offers, a moment of grace that Ben takes happily.

“Wanna hear about the time I pulled a grand theft auto? It’s why I didn’t get my car until last year.”


Link to Part Two.
Tags: ben has 2 dads 'verse, crossover fic, fic, glee fic, kurt/blaine, spn fic, wincest
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