What I Call Life

Disclaimer: I'm not RIB, so I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, I'd be rich and probably not writing fanfiction! This fic is an MPREG fic obviously. Yay! Oh, and the summary's the word-for-word prompt from blangstpromptoftheday (on tumblr - check them out!) The lyrics at the beginning of this are from the song What Would You Do by City High. It's a good song; you should listen to it. By the way, I don't have rights to that either and I am not affiliated with the band or anything related to them. I just like the song. Anyway, I own nothing!

What would you do if your son was at home,
Crying all alone on the bedroom floor 'cause he's hungry.
And the only way to feed him is to sleep with a man for a little bit of money.
And his daddy's gone, somewhere smokin' rock now.
In and out of lock down. I ain't got a job now.
So for you this is just a good time, but for me this is what I call life.

Kurt scrunched his nose and gave his fiance a strange look, causing Blaine to pause the song in the middle of it playing before he set the now silent ipod back down on the floor between them. "What?"

"What kind of song is that anyway? I think I heard it once as a child, but honestly... what is it even?"

"It's a song about struggle. Didn't you hear the lyrics?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I heard them. The mom's single and she's a prostitute and that's what I got from that." Beside him, Blaine frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows to stare harder at the boy laying next to him. For a few moments, he watched Kurt seriously, his own eyes rolling before he settled back down flat on his belly.

"If you'd let me finish the song, you'd understand the whole thing. It's actually pretty sad when you think about it - that people actually have to do that to take care of their families."

"There's jobs at McDonalds," Kurt said plainly, smirking until Blaine glared at him. "What? There's tons of jobs out there. Remember when I didn't make it into NYADA and I worked at the Lima Bean? That place wasn't the only job offer I had. Remember, Mickey D's and a whole bunch of fast food places called me about possible jobs but I gave them up because... you know, the grease and everything-"

"But jobs like that barely pay minimum wage and if you have a child, it's difficult to pay rent, raise your kids, and provide for them as well as yourself on just seven dollars an hour. I guess I... I guess I just understand what they're saying, you know? Not that I've ever been an exotic dancer," he quickly added, chuckling when Kurt snorted. "But you have to do what you have to do. I get it."

"Well, good for you, I guess. I just... you know how I feel about porn? This is just another one of those things. Like, why would you do that? ...I don't know; it weirds me out. You understand what I mean, right?"

Blaine nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor as he studied the wooden boards beneath his arms. Deep down, he wanted to argue with Kurt a little, but after the last few weeks of arguments they had, he wasn't about to plow through their already shaky ground and cause yet another earthquake that could ultimately break them. Sighing, he reached out and grabbed up his discarded pencil, silently chewing on his lower lip as Kurt began to skim through his ipod for another (better) song to play that they could study with.

::::::::::

"So you think it's okay to just lie to me?! Really?"

"Kurt, you know I didn't mean it. I didn't want you to get hurt-"

"Sure! Because finding out from the freaking NYADA gossip mill that June Dolloway hates your guts and that your fiance is possibly going to break-up with you to further his career in showbiz is the best damn thing to hear first thing in the morning!" Kurt was raging, lips curled up in a snarl as he angrily paced the empty classroom. Blaine stood across from him, arms crossed over his chest as he sadly took in his fiance's fiery demeanor. Kurt was pissed and he had good reason to be; Blaine had stretched the truth for weeks, played along with the original lie he fed the love of his life until it finally snapped and came back and hit him. The part that Kurt supposedly was going to have in the June Dolloway showcase didn't even exist; June really hated Kurt and she harped about him anytime Blaine mentioned his fiance, but no matter what, Blaine did his best to fight for Kurt. He would turn the other cheek to June's harsh words, throwing out all of the things he loved about his fiance, but the socialite wouldn't even bat an eye at his insistence. Earlier that morning, she told him to just stop asking about Kurt being in the show and when she finally stamped her foot down, Blaine did too.

He quit the show... and he came to meet up with Kurt at NYADA to let him know. Of course, life had other plans and now he was getting yelled at. But, he'd let Kurt have his moment, let him get it all out, and then he could explaineverything. Then they'd feel better, they'd be better.

However, Blaine was not expecting Kurt to do what he did next.

"You know what? I'm so... ugh, I'm so tired of this, Blaine! I'm tired of playing second fiddle to you all the damn time. I'm tired of you hogging the spotlight and making everything about you! This relationship consists of two people who are supposed to love and protect and support each other and all you've been doing is pulling me down! You tried to sabotage my weight, you tried to-"

The list just kept on going and all Blaine could do was repeat the word no over and over and over again. Because what Kurt was saying? It was all untrue. Yeah, he had his moments and he wasn't the best boyfriend/fiance/lover in the world, but god did he try so fucking hard. There was no one else in the world than Kurt who deserved success and while it really looked (to Kurt) like Blaine was taking that away from him, that wasn't what happened. Or washappening.

And, god, what was happening at that moment?

Oh. The dull thud of something metallic smacked him in the shoulder then fell to the floor with a clink and Blaine glanced up, eyes wide and full of tears as he finally came back to find Kurt staring at him, ring finger bare with only the indent of where his engagement ring once rested. "Kurt?"

"This engagement was a mistake."

"What? Honey, no-"

"I thought I was ready to do this again... and I was wrong. God, Blaine, I just... I can't. I'm sorry." Tears falling, Kurt spun on his heel and began walking towards the exit, arms crossed tightly over his hitching chest. He was barely keeping it together, whimpering and the like as he walked further and further away from Blaine and before Blaine could even form a response, the other boy spoke again. "Whatever's left of yours at the loft, please come get it. Then just... get out."

"Kurt, no, please!"

"No more, Blaine. No more. I can't deal with this any longer." Before any other words (pleas, begs for forgiveness, whatever) could be spoken, Kurt broke off in a run, sprinting out of the building and leaving Blaine behind. Within seconds, loud, broken sobs ripped out of Blaine's throat and he collapsed to the floor, fingers scrambling to pick up the ring that lay tossed away on the floor. He was barely able to pick it up, his hands were shaking so bad, but once it was in his grasp, he held it against his chest and began crying hard, wailing into the silence of a building that would only continue to remind him of what he lost.

::::::::::

After the incident at NYADA, Kurt wouldn't even speak to Blaine, not one single word. Rachel and Santana, though they were both exceptionally busy themselves, acted as his bodyguards so to speak. Whenever Blaine came around in the weeks following the break-up, they shooed him away. His stuff had already been packed up and sitting outside of the loft door the first night he stopped by and after that, he tried his hardest to just see Kurt and explain, but it was to no avail.

Even at school, things changed. They no longer shared classes since Blaine had swapped out all of his courses months ago to give Kurt some breathing space, and after the fight, Kurt made sure that he was out of sight (but not out of mind) when it came to being anywhere near Blaine. The rumor mill at the school ran wild with the news of the couple's break up but despite the whole infatuation with the saga that was Kurt and Blaine, not one person spoke a word of Blaine's broken relationship with star-maker June Dolloway. For the longest, Blaine hoped that Kurt would at least hear that tidbit of information; maybe his ex would find out that Blaine quit for him and he'd take him back and they could finally talk. But alas, the things he dreamed of didn't happen and before he knew it, he had Mercedes on his ass about hurting Kurt again. Sam stayed neutral, though he did want to know what happened and when Blaine couldn't explain it (because he didn't know either), Sam just shrugged and said he hated to see them part.

Of course, when another week went by and Blaine started noticing Sam distancing himself from their friendship and hanging out more with Mercedes (because the love of his life would always come before his best friend, duh), he knew things weren't going to change. He'd lost Kurt, he lost his friends, and... god, he basically lost everything.

That's what led him back to June.

:::::::::::

Begging wasn't his strong point. Or at least he thought it wasn't. Others begged to differ.

But when it came to something like wooing and apologizing to one of NYC's biggest socialites, Blaine failed every single time. June brushed him off with a flick of the wrist, calling him a stupid lovesick puppy for thinking that things were going to work with Kurt. She too had heard of the break-up and seeing Blaine in her presence asking for another chance just infuriated her, so she turned him away. She had other stars to find, produce, and send out into the world. Blaine had his chance and he blew it for puppy love.

He had many chances and he always fucked them up.

::::::::::

It was only after a night spent sobbing in his bedroom at what he and his used-to-be friends dubbed the Blamcedes apartment that Blaine finally broke down. His entire soul was shattered. He had nothing going for him. Not being a part of one of the most admired couples at the school left him to be fodder/prey for the vultures and they tore him apart, whispering in his ear about Kurt and the plethora of new hotter boyfriends he could have from all over the city. It was a good thing they broke up then, right? Kurt was bound to find a new plaything soon anyway; one that was much, much hotter than his old one... and not as fat.

The words ripped through his soul, leaving scars all over him, sending him back into that nasty headspace that he had just weeks before about his body and the way it looked. Despite the exercise regimen that he and Kurt had before the break-up (or the fact that he'd barely eaten at all following), he was still pudgy around the waist and his stomach felt like it was always growing no matter what he did. Someday he'd be as big as a house and everyone who he once thought of as a friend would point and laugh at him, make fun of him for letting himself go.

He wouldn't be able to handle it.

Scrubbing the tears off of his cheeks with one hand, he clutched his phone in the other and pressed the contact info for his big brother, immediately sobbing into the phone when Cooper's voice answered.

"Squirt, is that you? Long time no talk baby bro-"

"Cooper, I need help."

::::::::::

Within hours, he was packing up his stuff and leaving, sneaking out into the night while Sam and Mercedes were off at the loft having dinner with everyone else while he spent his usual time alone at their apartment. The month since Kurt broke up with him had been a rough one and after being excluded and ignored one too many times, he was finally giving everyone what they wanted. He was going to get the hell out of their hair.

Huffing, he dragged all of his bags out into the hallway and peeked out the window, sighing shakily when he spotted the car that Cooper said would be waiting outside for him. It was one of his brother's friends from the many credit commercials he did. Supposedly this guy was a pretty decent dude and he'd be the one helping Blaine get the fuck out of the apartment. So, unlocking the door, he waved the man in, trying his hardest not to break down when the guy smiled sadly at him and began taking boxes out to the car.

"I'll take the heavy stuff and you get bring out the little ones," the man said over his shoulder, carefully walking towards the waiting vehicle. Blaine looked back at the packages behind him and rolled his eyes, wiggling his bruised knuckles before he went to gather up a large, taped up box. The person helping him move might've been Cooper's friend, but just because Blaine looked like shit and looked like he beat the hell out of someone (he didn't - just a punch bag several times over the last few weeks), it didn't mean he couldn't carry his share of the weight. "Hey, what are you doing?" The stranger interrupted behind him.

"Carrying a box," Blaine hissed, squatting to pick up the container he originally planned on getting. He froze however when the guy across from him said, "You're not supposed to lift heavy objects in your condition."

"In my what?"

"Aren't you pregnant? I thought you were- oh, shit. I'm sorry. I just stuck my big ass foot in my fucking mouth, didn't I? I didn't mean to offend you, bro. I just saw your belly and thought-"

Any other words he said flew past Blaine and bounced off the walls. All the teen could hear was a buzzing static and his eyes were frozen on the slightly there swell of his stomach, on the swell that just never went away no matter how much dieting or exercising he did. Now that he observed it further it did look strange to him. Strange like a baby bump and... oh shit.

Quivering, he placed a hand on his stomach and looked up at Cooper's friend, tears in his eyes. "I didn't know. I didn't. Oh god... I think I am," was all he could manage before he angrily turned away and walked back towards his (former) bedroom. His phone and messenger bag were still on the mattress and before he could chicken out, he dialed Kurt's number, waiting for his ex to just pick up the phone. It rang for a moment and then went to voicemail, so he knew Kurt ignored the call. Sucking in a deep calming breath, he began calling the other members of his group of (former) friends, praying that someone would just answer so he could tell them he was going. Maybe he'd tell them about the possible news he just figured out, but he would only do so if he could talk to them on the phone. Texts were impersonal. He wanted the contact, the pleasure of hearing their voices one last time.

However, no one answered and, disgusted, he slammed his fist into the drywall, sobbing when pain burst up his arm. Cooper's friend had to practically drag him from the house after that, but all his things were outside and in the car, so that was fine; he followed dutifully. With one final, teary-eyed look at the place that really wasn't his home, Blaine cradled his aching hand against his chest and closed his eyes, letting the slow ride of the car lull him to sleep as some stranger that his brother trusted took him where he needed to go.

::::::::::

(A Little Over) Three Years Later - Early 2018

"Thank god we decided to do this in LA because New York would've been cold as hell and I wouldn't have been able to wear this gorgeous ass dress!"

"You would've still worn it and froze your ass off!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I totally would! Anyway, enough about me - to Kurt!"

"To Kurt!" The limo cheered. Kurt ducked his head and rolled his eyes, looking back up at his already sloshed car mates before he took a huge swig of his wine and smacked his lips together.

"You guys are already tipsy."

"Am not!" Rachel screeched, stealing his wine glass and pressing her empty one into his hand before she downed the rest of his drink. Once that was gone, she waved the empty goblet at Santana and her dark-haired friend cackled, refilling both glasses before she began to drink straight out of the bottle herself. Across from her sat Mercedes and she was as sober as Kurt was, if not more so. Neither one of them were drinking like the rest of the limo and Kurt was sure that he knew the reason why.

Mercedes was pregnant (though she hadn't spilled the beans yet.) She married Sam almost a year ago and while neither one of them said a word about possibly expecting, Kurt wasn't stupid. He saw the signs; he just chose to ignore them for his friends' sake. The last thing he needed was for them to get mad at him again, especially Sam.

God, that took him back when he thought about those days. It was the morning after Blaine called all of them at the loft during their weekly dinner. No one picked up as a courtesy to Kurt but the next day, Sam was storming into the apartment, crying and yelling because Blaine disappeared and no one knew where he went... and no one had seen him since. Just thinking about his ex-fiance made Kurt's skin ache and burn in embarrassment and shame. For a whole month, he shut his ex out, pissed beyond belief that Blaine would just lie to him about June Dolloway wanting him to be a part of her show. It had been the cherry on top of an already shitty sundae and Kurt exploded, taking all of his anger out on Blaine. The only problem with that was that Blaine wasn't the main problem - there were tons of issues that made Kurt finally snap, but Blaine had been the last person Kurt saw that day and he blew up... and now, three years later, he regretted every single second of it.

Though despite his regret, he still had a ring on his finger. A ring that was not Blaine's, a ring that had no meaning to him at all. It was going to be a marriage of convenience, of pleasure (somewhat), but it still gave him purpose because he had nothing else going on in his life anyway.

Sighing, he carefully wrestled one of the wine glasses from Rachel and drank this one down whole, gasping for breath when the alcohol warmed his chilly body. Santana cheered at him again and offered him the bottle, which he gladly took, immediately pressing it against his lips to take another deep gulp.

He'd be needing a strong one all night if he knew any better.

::::::::::

Leave it to Santana to find the shadiest fucking place to take me to.

The limo stopped outside of a huge building in the middle of nowhere in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Lights flashed along the white washed walls and the sign announced that it had dancers of all kinds: gay, straight, you name it we've got it. It was pretty offensive, but Santana didn't seem to give a shit as she wrapped her fingers around Kurt's wrist and began to drag him to the entrance. He was unfortunately dressed up in a tiara, feather boa, and a bedazzled sash that said groom-to-be. It was tacky as hell, but he humored his friends, laughing when the group was easily waved in and thrust into a world that smelled of smoke, cheap booze, and sweat.

"The part of the bar we're going to is over there!" Santana yelled, her voice excessive over the even louder music. A few topless girls were strutting around onstage across from them and for a moment, the whole group stopped to watch (Kurt was judging, god was he judging) but the rest seemed interested (except for Mercedes, who was covering her nose and looking a little bit too ill for comfort.)

"C'mon! It smells in here," Kurt grumbled, reaching for Mercedes' arm as he tugged her towards the area that Santana was originally leading them to. The whole group burst through the doors and went down a few glitter covered steps, slipping into a room that was dark, dingy, and looking like something straight out of True Blood. "Oh my god, if anyone in here is dressed up as a vampire, we are so leaving."

"Oh don't get your nuts in a bunch! They don't roleplay or cosplay or whatever the hell you call that stuff. It's stripping! You rip your clothes off and get naked! Hell yeah! We're here for the ass! Let's party!"

Kurt wanted to interrupt his lush of a friend, but she was already rushing off with Rachel towards the bar, so he kept close to Mercedes, hand still linked around her elbow as he led her to a table that was thankfully far away from the smoking area at the bar. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just... tired."

"You know if there's anything you want to tell me, I'm here to listen." To drive the point home, he batted his lashes at her and she scoffed.

"Kurt, we are at your bachelor party. I have nothing to say." The look on her face said otherwise and Kurt chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his own before he settled down in his seat. The music boomed around them and then someone's voice broke through the beat, their smooth and silky tone announcing that they had a treat for the evening.

"Everyone please welcome your favorite dancer-"

"Kuuuuurt! Where'd you go?!" Rachel's shrill voice cut through the announcer's introduction, but Kurt didn't mind. He really wasn't in it for the show anyway. He just tagged along for the hell of it (and to give his friends a fun time.) "KURT!"

"Over here, you nutcase!" Mercedes hollered back, grumbling to herself as she took her seat back at the booth. Kurt thanked her for alerting Rachel of their seating arrangements and then he directed his attention back to the stage, watching as the lights went from purple to dark blue. A lone figure stood in the middle of the set, their silhouette stunningly dark against the rich azure and Kurt, without a thought, took whatever drink Santana placed in front of him and gingerly began sipping at it, ignoring the burn of way too much vodka as he watched this featured dancer wiggle his hips seductively.

"Ahh, Hummel. See something you like?" One of the girls purred (he was sure it was Santana) but he ignored their words and continued watching the show, arousal building throughout his body as the shadowed dancer climbed up, up, up on the pole, kicking their legs up to wrap around the strong steel, and begin spinning in the air, arms flowing around them like a delicate flower blowing in the breeze.

"Holy shit."

'"I'd say. Someone's very flexible... and talented," Mercedes added, nudging Kurt's arm. He glanced at her for just a second and blushed when she waggled her eyebrows at him. He knew she was teasing; she always did, especially now. She probably hated even being in this place, but when it came to Kurt's happiness, she would always support him even though she didn't agree with his choices. Like, at that moment, she was supporting his engagement, the engagement that hardly anyone agreed with but no one said a thing about. Kurt was going to be married to some random guy that he met at a Vogue function a year before. They hit it off, had drunken sex at the man's high-rise, and before Kurt knew it, he was continuously fooling around with some rich stud who loved to shower him with gifts and trips. However, despite the whole luxury of it all, their relationship was terribly lonely. The guy, Alexander, was nice and very attractive, but he was rather cold to everyone else and he and Kurt spent quite a bit of time apart. During their separations while Alex was off doing god knows what, Kurt was sitting at their shared apartment, fingers trailing over expensive sorry I can't be there gifts and while he hated that that's what his life came to, he dealt with it. He hadn't made it big. He wasn't famous, no one wanted him as a performer, and even though he came out of NYADA, histype wasn't one the Broadway world was looking for. So, he basically became arm candy.

That's what he was... glorified arm candy.

And even though a long time ago he feared that that's what he would've become while he was with Blaine, his exact fears were now a reality. Just this time he was with a completely different guy that he had so-so feelings for... because Kurt Hummel didn't believe in love, not anymore, not after the last time.

Or, more importantly (no matter how heartbreaking it was - or pathetic, depending on who you ask), not after Blaine left.

Scowling, he shoved his thoughts of Blaine aside and sucked down the rest of his drink, humming in appreciation when Santana slid another one of the same things in front of him. He didn't know how she got it nor why she even had an extra in the first place, but he was thankful and he quickly drank that one too.

"Oh my god, that hot guy's coming over here! How do I look?"

"Rachel, he's probably gay. I doubt he'll be looking at you."

"Okay no, Mercedes Evans-Jones-whatever-your-stage-name-is-now! We don't know if he's gay until he gets over here and I have a chance to talk to him. So, I've gotta make sure I look good because if he's actually straight, I might have a chance, alright?" Rachel snapped her fingers, drunkenly swaying in her seat before she began to dig into her handbag for a bunch of dollar bills. "Good thing I went to the bank! Gonna make it rain!"

"I really like drunk Rachel. This is good, this is nice." Santana mused and Kurt felt his eyes roll back into his skull at their strange drunken sisterhood. Rachel was still digging dollars out of her bag, Santana was clapping her hands as if she was trying to get the other girl to hurry up, and Mercedes was frowning at the two, shaking her head at their stupidity.

"Oooooh do we have a treat tonight! Looks like there's a bachelor party here! Shadow, you better get on that! The groom-to-be looks lonely." Like that, the table hushed and all of the girls squealed, Rachel smacking Kurt's shoulder as the dancer turned towards them and froze in his spot onstage. From where they were sitting, they could barely make out his facial features, but he was watching them cautiously, like they were going to grab him up and steal him away if he even went over to their table. The DJ said something else about the future groom and finally the dancer began moving, his body fluidly making its way towards the group of drunken twenty-somethings before he entered their line of sight.

The lights got brighter, the shadows of the mystery man's features faded and...

Like a scene from a bad romantic comedy, everyone's mouths fell open at the sight of the dancer's gorgeously made-up and very familiar face. Dark eyeliner as well as smudged charcoal eyeshadow rimmed golden eyes; glitter sparkled on slightly tanned bare skin, the glimmer of the little crystals framing the dips and bulges of the dancer's muscles as he moved. His hair was curly and, while short, fell in dark ringlets over his forehead... and despite the fact that none of them had seen or heard from this particular person in three long years, it was incredibly obvious that the mysterious Shadow coming over to their table was none other than Blaine Devon Anderson, the boy who went missing so many years ago, the boy who was now a stripper.

So for you this is just a good time, but for me this is what I call life.

A/N: There might be one or two more chapters to this. I originally posted on my tumblr that I needed help getting back into the swing of things when it came to writing because I had a terrible weekend. Well, some people sent me prompts and I'm still working on them and this was one of them. Someone linked me to the BPOTD and here it is... or at least part of it. I hope to have my mindset back so I can finish my other WIPs and hopefully that'll be soon. Anyway, please review! (Oh and if you're wondering about Kurt's thoughts at the beginning of the chapter - I based them on a convo I had with someone about the song a while back; I don't think canon!Kurt would say those things, he just says them for this story.) That is all!