Five Days [2]
Title: Five Days
Fandom: Glee
Written: August, 2011
Rating: R (yay swears)
Words: 9200
Summary: Jesse and Blaine have reached a standstill. One in Los Angeles and the other in New York, they aren't quite sure what to do from here. Can they make it work, or will distance take its toll?
Notes: Sequel to Perfect for Jesse St. James.
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(Day 5 - July 2, 2021)
It is impossibly weird, walking into Dalton's campus center holding Blaine's hand. Jesse stares around at the once-students milling about, taking in the way almost all of them have a woman hanging onto their arms, smiling around politely with whitened teeth, all in cocktail dresses and heels, hair done up in buns. They paint imposing pictures, each of them strikingly beautiful and slightly stern behind their painted smiles.
And then there is Kurt, who had been invited even though he hadn't graduated from Dalton, invited maybe out of a sense of camaraderie, who was standing side by side with another man, seemingly the only other same-sex couple in the room.
There are stares. It seems like everyone is staring and they probably all are staring, because Blaine was popular in high school, the guy they all looked up to, and here he is turning up holding the hand of the boy who had been his best friend, the boy who had ruined his life, the last these people saw them. To them, he isn't the man who had been slowly putting things back together, but the man who had left their friend in his moment of greatest need.
Kurt stares the longest, of course, his mouth a thin line, clutching the sleeve of the man Jesse presumes to be his husband, if the rings on their fingers are any indication. Kurt's face is worn, tired, and Jesse spots fading powder under his eyes when they walk past, no doubt there in a desperate attempt to cover up purple circles. Maybe it's his work that's so stressful - because he's heard that Kurt managed to make it as a designer and still pursues singing on the side - but then later on he overhears Kurt on the phone, asking how "the little angels did at bedtime," and Jesse knows it's the strain of fatherhood instead.
He finds himself staring at Blaine from afar, sitting at a solitary table while Blaine greets old friends, watching as he's shown picture after picture of toddlers and babies and even one eight-year-old, watches as the smile on Blaine's face becomes more and more forced.
And then he's staring at Kurt again, having not been ignorant to the fact that he and Blaine have yet to speak, and he wonders if Blaine regrets how things have turned out. Maybe he wishes that he could be the man on Kurt's arm, the one whose entire being seems to light up when Kurt smiles, the one who gets to kiss him and hold him, the one who is now raising a family with him.
He doesn't miss the wistful look in Blaine's eyes as he's shown yet another photo of a child.
Blaine's always been the romantic of the two of them, even if he's never been particularly good at it, but now Jesse's realizing that the romantic wishes he has don't just extend to the happily ever after the fairy tale ends with. Blaine knows what comes next, knows what he wants that happily ever after to contain, and it's written plain as day on his face.
Jesse considers this, now painfully aware of how they've never actually talked about the future, not past their next trips into the others' respective cities, at least. They've been trying to work towards something for the past five years, trying to fix the mistake that happened now ten years ago, but they've never managed to talk things through all the way. They live on an agenda of maybes and somehows, live in the space between them, live by the schedules of trains and busses and planes, and it's all passed by unnoticed. They've become dependent on the distance because they don't know how to be together completely, living for stolen weekends and quick day trips, for holidays spent together rather than with families.
They live two worlds apart, where Jesse is the city boy with city dreams, and Blaine is the boy in love with the city but longing for green pastures. He wants to put his own dream on hold, put the playground of Los Angeles to rest and trade it in for a suburban house with a swing set out back, where they'll argue over whose turn it is to mow the grass in summer, whose turn it is to rake the leaves in fall, whose turn it is to shovel the drive in winter. He's a city boy, but his heart lies elsewhere, lies in the future he's planned for himself and now has to watch others living.
And he realizes that if they are to make any progress, if they are to make this last, they need to start learning how this is supposed to work. Compromises aren't supposed to be who is flying into a new time zone this week. Compromises are supposed to be who does the dishes and who takes out the garbage. Who puts their career on hold to care for the newborn. Who gets out of bed in the middle of the night when the children are frightened.
Jesse is up and out of his seat before he realizes it, walking over to Blaine with determination pounding in every footfall. He doesn't hear the conversation Blaine is having with the two men he's sitting with, only catches a snippet of how the one had to try six times to give a particularly squirmy five-year-old his booster shots, and then he clears his throat.
"Blaine, can I talk to you?" he asks, because this can't wait, it really can't. It doesn't matter that he managed to score a whole week out of the show and that they'll have that whole week together. This needs to happen and it needs to happen right now.
"Sure," Blaine looks confused, but he excuses himself anyway, not even protesting when Jesse grabs his hand and pulls him out of the campus center and out onto the walkway, where the only eavesdroppers are the fireflies lazily dancing through the sky around them.
"What's up?" Blaine asks, grinning at him. "Bored already? I have to admit it's not exactly living up to my expectations either. If I have to hear one more story about what little Suzie or what little Jeffrey did that was oh so cute, I think I'll barf."
"Don't give me that," Jesse tuts. "You love kids."
"That I do," Blaine agrees, shrugging a shoulder. "But I'd rather hear about what my friends have been up to, not their children."
"Do you still want a family?" Jesse asks him, and this seems to catch Blaine off guard. He stares at Jesse for a moment, eyebrows knotting together.
"What?"
"Do you still want a family?" Jesse repeats, tone patient.
"And who said I wanted one in the first place?" Blaine counters, but Jesse knows he's only saying it because he's confused and he wants Jesse to get to the point of why he dragged him out here. He knows Blaine, knows that the other does want a family, except that they've never talked about any of that because they haven't even talked about one of them moving to the city the other lives in.
"It's obvious," Jesse tells him. "Blaine, you've always wanted a family. You were picking out names for your kids when you were fifteen, remember?"
"People can change their minds," Blaine points out, but Jesse shakes his head.
"Not about this. You still want it, still want the suburban house with the big backyard and the kids running around outside." Blaine's smile widens just a fraction. "You want the big kitchen and the dog and the bunk beds even if the kids don't share a room. You want the photo albums with nothing but pictures of babies in the bathtub and the bottoms of their feet."
Blaine seems to catch himself smiling, because his mouth is suddenly set in a grim line.
"One day," he says evasively. "One day, maybe."
"With me?" Jesse dares to ask. "Or with someone else?"
"What do you mean?" Blaine frowns.
"I mean, do you want me in that future?" Jesse finally asks, watching Blaine's chest rise sharply with his intake of breath. "Because if you don't, if you can't see this being anything but a reason to spend our paychecks on airfare, then we might as well call it quits right now."
Blaine just stares at him, mouth falling open slightly, breath coming short and fast. Jesse waits. It feels like it takes forever for Blaine's breathing to even out, for him to finally figure out what it is he wants to say.
"You still belong in New York City," is what he says, his feet shuffling. "I can't - I can't take you away from that."
"There's theatre in Los Angeles," Jesse reminds him. "There are recording studios in New York. Blaine," he reaches out and takes both of Blaine's hands, holding them tightly, "there is no reason why we can't figure something out."
"I," Blaine swallows thickly, looking down at their hands, "I do want to figure something out. I just…" He sighs heavily, posture slumping, seeming to crumble before Jesse's eyes. "I'm scared. It's easy, knowing that you'll be waiting for me, knowing that you can't run away if we're already on opposite sides of the country, that I can't run away when every single fucking part of me keeps telling me to go back." His voice lowers. "What if one of us does move, and then it all falls to shit?"
He looks up, meeting Jesse's eyes, and Jesse can see the same fear he saw in them the day he left for Los Angeles for the first time, after they promised to be with each other and only each other - fuck distance - and that they would somehow make it work. Blaine is still afraid that Jesse will walk out on him, and as for Jesse himself… well, he doesn't quite know what he's afraid of. He's just scared all over again.
They speak at the same time, looking into each other's eyes and clutching tightly to each other's hands.
"I don't want to lose you again," is what Blaine says.
"I think we should get married," is what Jesse says.
And then Blaine is staring at him again, mouth hanging open again, his head cocked slightly to one side. Jesse doesn't know what to do, because he hadn't meant to say that, not one bit, but now that he has said it he realizes that, oh, yeah, actually he does think that's a good idea. It just probably was not the most opportune time to mention it, if Blaine's stunned expression is any indication.
"You think," Blaine's words come out a squeak, "that we should get married?"
"Yes," Jesse answers immediately, sounding much more confidant than he feels. His heart is thudding so loudly that he can feel it all the way up in his ears, blocking out the sound of people talking inside and the insects buzzing around them, blocking out every sound that could come between him and his nerves. He has to swallow hard to get that to stop, lest he miss something Blaine says.
"We can't," Blaine shakes his head.
"Why not?" Jesse asks, laughing because he thinks he just proposed and he has no ring to prove that yes, he does think this is a good idea, and he has no idea if guys are even supposed to give each other engagement rings, and - oh shit - what if Blaine wants one and he has to admit that he doesn't even know what Blaine's ring size is and why the hell is he worrying about ring sizes when, if he's being honest, he doesn't even know half of the things he should know about Blaine?
But he knows that he wants to marry him.
"You're just saying that," Blaine shakes his head, and he tries to take a step away, but Jesse keeps a tight hold on his hands. "You're just saying that because everyone in there is already married and has kids and you think I'm having a case of the green monster and you're trying to fix it with something that won't fix anything at all."
"No, I'm not," Jesse promises, letting go of one of Blaine's hands and reaching out to cup his jaw line, thumb brushing against his cheek. "Because it's time the pair of us figure out what we want, and I want you. I'll want you whether we live in New York City or Los Angeles or even if you want to move back to Westerville. I don't want to just be your Jesse; I want to be your husband Jesse."
"You're supposed to be the one who isn't good with words," Blaine all but whines, but then he's crushing himself against Jesse's body, head on his shoulder and one arm awkwardly trapped between their chests, the other grabbing at the jacket covering Jesse's other shoulder and clinging on. Jesse's arms are around Blaine's waist in an instant, holding him there and leaning in closer to him.
"I guess all the acting paid off," Jesse decides, murmuring it against Blaine's neck. "I've picked up a few things here and there, one of them being how to talk properly to the man I love."
"This is so unfair," Blaine mumbles back, but he manages to wiggle his arm out from between them and hook it around Jesse's neck, which Jesse takes as a good sign. But then he doesn't say anything or do anything more, just stands there, holding Jesse and letting Jesse hold him, and this is suddenly awkward all over again because Blaine hasn't actually given him an answer, so maybe he should do something about that.
'Do something about that' roughly translates to 'kiss your boyfriend right now, dammit,' so Jesse does just that, pressing their cheeks together for a moment then turning his own face so he can press his lips to that same spot. He can feel Blaine leaning closer, so he turns a bit more and kisses the corner of Blaine's mouth.
It's slow and sweet, the way they're kissing each other, so very different from how rushed and almost panicked they usually are that it's making it hard for Jesse to remember how to breathe. Sometimes they aren't even moving, just standing there with their lips pressed together for a few seconds, before one of them ever so slowly fits their lips together in a new way. It's almost too slow, but neither one makes any attempt to change that.
And they just keep standing there, locked together and barely moving, swaying slightly and tasting Jesse's toothpaste and the little sandwiches Blaine had been eating inside, and then there's something salty and Jesse can't tell which one of them started crying because he can't feel anything except for Blaine. Blaine is the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters.
Blaine is the one who breaks the kiss, bending his head yet still keeping his arms locked tight around Jesse, making no move to pull away. There is silence between them again, until Blaine breaks it, whispering, "Yes," so quietly that he shouldn't have heard, so quietly that Jesse doesn't even know if Blaine himself knows what he's just said.
Then, louder, "Yes." His voice shakes, but Jesse can hear his determination; even in this whisper he can hear it.
And then they're laughing and Jesse's arms are starting to hurt from how tightly he's squeezing Blaine, but he can't let go and won't let go because he knows - he knows - that they're going to be okay. They'll argue over the cake and who to invite and where to live and they'll probably threaten to call the whole thing off once or twice, but Jesse knows they're going to make it.
Because Blaine is perfect, perfect for him, and he likes to think that maybe he's perfect for Blaine as well.