Chapter Text
After his most recent and one of his most dance-intensive shows yet, and after about seven years of consistently performing, Kurt Hummel needs a much-deserved break. As much as he loves performing, and for as much love that he has found for dance in recent years, he worries that if he doesn’t take a real break soon, he’ll either burn out or break down before he’s ready to stop. It doesn’t help that he’s just turned 30, either– that makes him worry even more that his body will start to break down on him soon, especially given his habit of jumping from one show right into the next without taking much time to rest and repair in between. Which doesn’t exactly help with the intent to keep in prime condition as to extend the life of his career as a dancer before he transitions into other roles, though the consistent work has been good for his career so far. But after all the pros and cons have been weighed, he knows that he needs a break.
Although, his version of a break means that he needs to still be doing something related to performing even if he’s not actively rehearsing and performing a show eight times a week. Which is how he finds himself searching for opportunities to choreograph for some project or to teach workshops or masterclasses. Which eventually takes him down the rabbit hole of more information on teaching dance. Which somehow leads him to investigate if any of his NYADA instructors still teach there and how they came to teach, if he can find that information. Which takes him down memory lane, which eventually leads him to searching up his old high school, because he’s a little curious how they’re doing since they transitioned to a high school for the performing arts a few years back.
And that’s when he sees that they’re looking for a dance teacher for the upcoming school year. Against his better judgement, he takes a look at the posting for a little longer than he needs to. Logic tells him that opening the ‘apply’ link would be a stupid idea. Logic tells him that he is in no way qualified for the position. Logic tells him that clicking through the application, answering all the questions, and submitting the right files would be a really stupid idea. Logic tells him that everything about applying for a teaching position at his old high school is a very terribly stupid idea. Yet, impulse says ‘why not?’ Impulse asks ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ Impulse wins this once.
He doesn’t think much of it after he submits the application. Until about a week later, when he gets an email from McKinley’s HR about setting up an interview. And once again, against better judgement, he replies and makes arrangements to go interview for the position. But he’s still not expecting much to come from it. Until he’s gone through the first interview and gets contacted a few days later about doing a second interview. Logically, he shouldn’t go any further with the whole process. And yet he chooses once again to follow the part of him that pushes to continue with the process and at least see where it goes. But he’s still not expecting anything more from it, still thinking they will find someone much more qualified, someone who wants it more.
Yet, only a few days later, by some act of fate or the universe’s impulse or a god he doesn’t believe in, he gets the email about a job offer. And as crazy as it sounds, he starts to think that maybe it is fate or some other universal force that seems to be pulling him back, seems to be trying to tell him that this is where he needs to go for the foreseeable future. But he doesn’t quite trust it yet. He mulls it over for a few days, and he shares the news with a few trusted people for their input. Predictably, most of his trusted people think he’s crazy for considering it. Yet they are also supportive if it is what he wants and what he feels he needs to do. His dad (despite thinking he’s crazy for thinking about moving back home when he’s spent so many years building his stage career) even insists that Kurt is welcome to come stay with him and Carole for a while if he does take the job.
He knows his decision isn’t fully logical. Scratch that, he knows it’s barely logical. But for some reason, call it fate or what you want, he can’t deny that it feels like what he needs to do.
Once he accepts the offer, his first call is to his dad. For as much as Burt says he is happy for him and happy to have him coming home for a while, he can tell that his dad is a little upset with him, because they both know he can do more. But either way, he is welcome to come back home. Then, it’s the meeting with his management team, who are on board with his plan for now, probably because they all feel he’ll be back to Broadway sooner rather than later. Then, he shares his news with the friends who need to know. Rachel Berry is one of the first friends to know, when they meet for coffee not long after he’s accepted the job offer and started making plans to move, and she has one of the strongest reactions he’s gotten so far:
“No,” Rachel admonishes him, shaking her head to emphasize her point. “No! Kurt, you cannot go back to Ohio! If you need a break, take a break, but… Kurt, you are so much better than going back to Ohio. I never thought you would actually take an opportunity to go back there.”
“I know, I know,” he waves her off, as if he’s heard this a thousand times before. “Everyone else seems to think I’m crazy for even considering moving back home, too.”
Her voice jumps in pitch and volume, dramatically, as is the case with everything Rachel does. “Exactly! So why are you going back?”
“Rach, inside voice please,” he gently reminds her. “And I’ve told you. I need a break before I burn out, or before I push my body to its limits earlier than I want to and have to stop entirely. You know how much I love performing and the Broadway sphere, but… Let’s face it, this industry we’re in is grueling most days.”
“Yes, and rewarding. And I know how much you love to have all your hard work pay off. And going back to Ohio? That feels like giving up.”
“It’s not. I’m not giving up. You know I could never give up on Broadway–”
“So don’t go back–”
“Rach, I’ve already taken the job.”
Rachel huffs. “Fine. I do still think you are insane for this, but if it’s what you want, then you know I support you. But I will anxiously await the day you come back to Broadway where you belong.”
“I know you will. Thank you, though.”
“Of course. Well, I’m sure Burt will be happy to have you back for a while.”
“Yeah… Funnily enough, he also thinks I’m crazy for moving back home…” He proceeds to fill her in more fully on his most recent job decisions and conversations with his dad about coming home.
Kurt spends the rest of his summer moving back home and preparing for the school year, or for now, at least the first month or two. He arranges for a friend to take over his apartment, packs up all his essential items, and moves back home with Burt and Carole, until he can get his own place. As much as he loves them, there is no way he's staying with them for an entire school year, they'd drive each other crazy. But he can handle a couple months of his and his dad’s back-and-forths over things they both know they won’t change out of stubbornness. And he has no problem helping out around the house, or at the garage from time to time, because it has been years since he’s been back for more than a holiday at a time, and because he’s missed them. Still, he spends a good deal of his summer apartment hunting.
The rest of his summer is also spent preparing for the classes he’s going to be teaching. He’ll be teaching freshman and sophomores, so he figures it’ll be a lot of the basics. He fairly quickly discovers that the class curricula are largely his to build. He has the general course descriptions, the performance requirements, some resources the previous dance teacher left, and the wisdom and guidance of McKinley’s other dance teacher, but plenty of room for creativity. It all seems a little daunting at first, but with the remaining summer time and a good deal of mentor guidance, he develops a very general plan for the year and a more detailed plan for the first couple months.
Speaking of his mentor teacher, she really is an angel to him. Pretty much as soon as he’s hired, she reaches out offering to help in any way she can. He quickly takes her up on her offer, and they meet up mostly to get to know each other first within the first week that he’s back home, and from there, they’re in very frequent contact as he works on planning the classes he’s been given. His mentor teacher, Heather Lynn, is energy and kindness and wisdom. Heather has been dancing for nearly her entire life and teaching for around 15 years. She seems eager to share her advice or opinions any time he asks, and every time, he’s sure it’s good advice. Aside from her mentorship, they connect easily over the memories and stories they tell each other, and over shared viewpoints and shared loves of dance (obviously) and theater and trashy reality television, among other things. In short, she essentially becomes one of his favorite people over the summer.
Summer is set to come to a close with mandatory professional development days in the week before school starts. The week before official PD week, Heather texts him that some of the staff are going in to do some last minute (ish) classroom set-up, and offers to show him around the school and introduce him to some teacher friends. So, of course, he stops in a couple days that week. Even though there is not much set-up to do in the dance studios, he still takes the opportunity to get acquainted with the space, put up a few decorations, sort out some of the things he wants to keep at the school. And it’s still a nice opportunity to meet a few of the other teachers and other staff, even if some of their interactions are very brief. And even though much of the school building itself is familiar to him, it has obviously changed quite a bit since he was last there, so it’s also a good opportunity to reacquaint himself with the building.
He spends a few hours on the Friday before PD week at the school, adjusting himself to his dance “classroom” space. It’s early afternoon when Heather pops in to let him know that most of the other staff is heading out for the day and to say her “see you next week.” He’s mid warm-up when she stops in, so she leaves him to it pretty quickly, understanding his need to feel out the space and how it feels to move in it. He finishes his warm-up and lets muscle memory take over, his body leading him through a number from his last show.
When he finishes the number and pauses for a breath, he hears someone call his name, in a question, from the hallway. Instinct tells him to turn around immediately, he recognizes that voice, but something else tells him not to, he knows that voice. It almost surprises him that after all these years, that instinct still kicks in. Almost. But he knows that voice. The one he thought he could forget, he thought could be a ghost, he wasn’t surprised when he haunted him, and while he’s surprised to cross paths again, it’s not like he couldn’t have known this was possible. He turns, eyes landing on the man standing in the dance studio doorframe.
“Blaine.”
They are by no means strangers to each other, but Blaine looks him up and down like he is. Perhaps he’s doing the same thing Kurt is– taking in the sight of him again after eight years. Eight years is almost hard to believe, because he doesn’t look all that different. Different, no, but changed. More relaxed, like he’s settled into himself, but that could be just the simple t-shirt and jeans and the free (but still managed) curls.
“So the rumor is true,” Blaine says as if he’s thinking out loud more than inviting him to speak. “You’re actually back.”
He answers anyway, even if it’s not an invitation to. “I am. I remember hearing that you were a teacher now, but I didn’t realize you taught here.” He wonders how they’ve managed to avoid each other this long still.
“This will be my third year here,” Blaine nods, still responding like he’s in a daze, like he’s just seen a ghost. In a way, he kind of has. “Sorry, it’s just… I never thought you’d actually be back here. Last I heard, you were making a name for yourself on Broadway.”
After all this time, he swears he can still anticipate the silent questions, swears he can still recognize the look that’s the silent What happened?
He shrugs, aloof, as if it’s nothing more than just, “I needed a break. Found out that they needed a dance teacher here, thought ‘Why not?’”
“Oh. That’s… Well, I guess I’ll see you around then?”
“I’ll see you around.”
“It’s good to see you again, Kurt,” Blaine adds before he turns to walk away.
“Blaine?” he stops him before he can get too far. “Would you want to..get a coffee or something sometime?” Where they stand, he’s not sure, but he can at least open the door to communication.
The unease and uncertainty starts to melt from Blaine’s expression. “I’d like that.”