Fic: The Other Half of the Equation 2/2
Part one and notes.
The problem with being teenagers, besides protective parents and limited clothing budgets, is that they just don’t have a good, reliable, private space to spend time together. Kurt’s house has his family, Blaine’s dorm room has a roommate, Dalton has teachers, librarians, and proctors, and pretty much everywhere else is, well, public. So while Kurt and Blaine spend as much time as they can steal in private, they are also forced out into the rest of the world quite a bit.
Kurt hates it. It’s not that he doesn’t like to go out, because obviously shopping is one of his passions and sitting across the table at a restaurant with Blaine is so amazing and perfect that his heart skips a beat just thinking about it, but there’s something exceptionally special about the world just being the two of them in a space with no one else. Even apart from the freedom it gives them to learn about each other and themselves, being alone with Blaine makes Kurt feel happier and somehow safer than he has since he was a child, when nothing really mattered but his parents and the love in their home. He hadn’t expected to feel anything like that kind of peace ever again. He hadn't thought it was even possible. Maybe not for anyone, but certainly not for him. Except it is. It's wonderful. He gets some of it just by being with Blaine anywhere, and he doesn’t need it every minute of the day, but if he’s honest he wouldn’t mind.
There aren't a lot of opportunities for them to be alone in private, so the few they do get are precious. Tonight was supposed to have been one of them. Unfortunately, Carole threw out her back yesterday, so instead of going out with Kurt’s dad tonight and leaving Finn and Kurt to their own amusements (playing video games in his room with Puck and watching a movie and making out on the couch with Blaine, respectively and quite separately) she’s lying on the couch, and Burt has taken the day off to help her. It completely foils Kurt’s plans for a quiet but dreamy night at home.
He’s used to pitching in, though, and he sighs away his regrets and readjusts his afternoon plans to include putting something together for dinner. Of course, when he goes into the cabinet to find the panko breadcrumbs almost gone he realizes that they must have been what Finn had been complaining about as “the most tasteless cereal ever” the other day.
Kurt rolls his eyes and quickly texts Blaine. Change of plans yet again. Grocery shopping, then cooking. Finn ate the panko for breakfast.
Two texts from Blaine almost immediately follow: Why?! and then Never mind. I know I shouldn’t ask. Want me to pick up some at the store? I was planning to stop, anyway.
That would be wonderful. Thank you, Kurt texts back.
Need anything else?
Kurt pokes his head into the refrigerator to see what else Finn might have decimated. A bunch of celery, three leeks, and a step-brother who doesn’t eat first and read labels second.
I’m not sure they sell the third one, but celery and leeks I can get. xx is Blaine’s reply, and Kurt smiles as he pockets his phone. He doesn’t know if Blaine even knows what a leek looks like, but he knows he’ll ask someone if he gets confused. It’s nice to be able to depend on him.
Kurt is still busy cutting up chicken when the doorbell rings, so he is forced to wash his hands and let Finn get the door. When he goes out into the living room to save his boyfriend from his family, though, he finds Blaine standing by the couch with an enormous bouquet of mixed flowers in various shades of pink, and if the actual arrangement lacks refinement Kurt stops dead in the doorway and forgets to breathe for a minute because Blaine is holding flowers. Kurt doesn’t know what to do with himself. He clenches his hands at his sides so that they don’t flutter around and ignores the buzzing in his ears. It’s probably from lack of oxygen, because he really, truly can’t figure out how to draw a breath. Blaine has flowers.
Then Blaine hands them with a charming smile to Carole, who coos over them, and Kurt’s world returns to normal with a thud. He swallows and inhales slowly. Of course the flowers weren’t for him. Blaine bought them for Carole, and it’s a lovely gesture. It’s what you do when visiting someone who is hurt. That makes so much more sense. He shouldn’t be disappointed; he isn’t disappointed. This makes more sense. Besides, they really are an uncoordinated riot of shades and textures.
“Thank you, Blaine. They’re beautiful,” Carole says and hands the flowers to Finn, who stands there staring at them awkwardly for a second before galumphing past Kurt to get a vase.
“There’s more,” Blaine says. He catches sight of Kurt and flashes him a smile before digging into the paper bag. “I got a sudoku book and some crosswords, too. Just so you don’t get bored.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Carole says. She looks so touched, though, and Kurt can’t help but smile a little that his boyfriend was so sweet and thoughtful.
“It was my pleasure. There’s only so much TV you can watch, you know?” Blaine shrugs.
“Especially when I have to share the remote,” Carole agrees, gesturing at her family around her.
“Exactly.” Blaine stands up and says, “Now, I believe I should deliver these groceries before the chef gets mad and comes after me with a knife for delaying dinner."
Carole glances over at Kurt and says, "I don't think you have to worry about that."
"No," Kurt agrees, "my methods would require far less bloodshed. Finn makes enough messes to clean up."
"Hey - " Finn starts; he backs down as soon as Kurt raises an eyebrow at him.
"I'm not sure that's comforting," Blaine says, but he follows Kurt into the kitchen anyway and puts the bag down on the counter where Kurt points. He crosses to the other side of the kitchen and leans against the cabinets, out of the way.
“Thank you,” Kurt says about the groceries. His stomach flutters when Blaine smiles at him, the way it always does. “I may need to start labeling things ‘Not for Finn’ so that he doesn’t eat them.”
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to label what he can eat?” Blaine asks. He’s vibrating a little, not quite bouncing on his toes, like he does when he has extra energy he can’t get out. Usually that means Kurt has an impromptu serenade in his future, and he hopes Blaine doesn’t pick anything too embarrassing to sing.
Kurt shakes his head and pulls out a clean cutting board. “That would require him to notice that something doesn’t have his name on it. I think that’s stretching things, don’t you?”
“Probably,” Blaine agrees with a laugh. When Kurt pulls a knife out of the block, Blaine puts his hands up and backs away a few steps. “Hey, I said I was sorry for not coming directly into the kitchen with the leeks.”
“Actually, you didn’t.”
Blaine gives him his best puppy eyes, which are admittedly very good, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Kurt snorts, but he smiles, too. He can’t help it. His boyfriend is ridiculous, and for some reason he likes it. “Much better.” He lays the knife down on the cutting board and crosses the few feet of floor between them. “It was sweet,” he says. “Bringing the flowers and books to Carole.”
Shrugging and looking mildly self-conscious, Blaine says, “I broke a couple of bones in my foot when I was a kid and had to spend a lot of my summer with my foot in a cast. I remember getting sick of cartoons, and I hadn’t thought that was possible.”
“See? Sweet.” Kurt leans in to brush their mouths together, very aware that his family is right there in the next room. His blood starts to hum in his veins even with such a brief contact, but it’s all he’ll allow himself.
Blaine lets out a little, awkward laugh. “I’m glad you think so,” he says.
“What’s going on?” Kurt asks, scrutinizing Blaine’s face and taking in the slight flush in his cheeks, shifty eyes, and sheepish smile. Yes, something is going on.
“Why do you - “
“Blaine.”
Blaine just gestures at the bag of groceries on the other side of the kitchen. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his cardigan and watches as Kurt goes to investigate. Had he forgotten the celery? Had he forgotten the panko? Kurt’s mind starts to spin through various other dinner options and then screeches to a complete stop. Oh.
There, nestled among the leeks, is a single perfect red rose. Kurt pulls it out carefully and stares at it. Blaine brought him a rose. Blaine brought him a flawless, elegant crimson rose.
“Is it weird?” Blaine asks without a hint of his usual confidence. “Me bringing you flowers? Okay, a flower, but - ”
Kurt shakes his head, not taking his eyes off of the velvety petals. They’re just beginning to open. The flower will last days before it starts to degrade, longer if he refreshes the water and puts in a little bit of sugar. Maybe he’ll dry the petals when the rose is past its prime. He has the perfect little glass-topped box with pierced wooden sides to keep them in. If he moves things around a little, he could keep it on his dressing table. He hasn’t been happy with his bottle arrangement for some time now.
“I thought you might think it was weird,” Blaine continues, oblivious to the workings of Kurt’s mind. “Or a cliche. Or both. I was betting on both.”
“No,” Kurt tells him, barely able to get his voice louder than a whisper. He looks away from the flower then and meets Blaine’s eyes. “No. It’s lovely. The flower, the gesture, all of it.”
The worry flies out of Blaine’s expression, and he gives Kurt the sort of warm, delighted smile Kurt knows he should be giving him if only he weren’t so stunned.
“Thank you,” Kurt tells him, and he’s about to write off his family and go kiss Blaine again when Finn walks into the kitchen.
“Hey, another flower,” he says. “Did that fall out of my mom’s bouquet?”
When Finn reaches out for it, Kurt pulls the rose back against his chest. “No, this one is for me.”
“Oh.” Finn frowns a little, looks back and forth between the two of them, and says, “Okay.” He peeks into the bag beside Kurt. “Celery! Awesome!”
“Hands off,” Kurt says, smacking Finn’s fingers with his free hand.
Finn’s shoulders slump. “I’m hungry.”
“Dinner will be in forty-five minutes,” Kurt tells him. “If you stay out of the way. You know I don’t like people standing around while I cook.”
“Blaine’s standing around,” Finn says, like Blaine doesn’t get an automatic free pass because he’s Kurt’s boyfriend. Sometimes he misses the point entirely, Kurt thinks.
“For one, he is very good about being where I’m not. Also, he isn’t seven feet tall.”
“Wait, should I be pleased or offended by that?” Blaine asks.
“Pleased,” Kurt tells him.
“Fine.” With one last, curious look at the rose, Finn goes back into the living room. Even his obvious confusion about it can’t dim Kurt’s joy.
“Let me get a vase,” Kurt says, reaching up into one of the high shelves for the tall cut-glass bud vase he has in mind. He has to strain up onto the very tips of his toes to get near it, and it slips away from his fingertips twice before he gets hold.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have sent Finn away so quickly,” Blaine says with a chuckle.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting him anywhere near this vase; it was my mother’s favorite.” Kurt fills it with water and uses the kitchen shears to snip off the end of the stem. When the flower is in the vase, it is even more perfectly simple and elegant. It will go in his room tonight, but for now he places it on the windowsill so that he can enjoy it while they cook. He doesn’t want it out of his sight.
“It’s really not weird?” Blaine asks softly, hopefully.
Kurt shakes his head and promises, “It’s perfect.”
Blaine smiles so warmly that Kurt just knows in the next five seconds he’s going to end up in Blaine’s arms, and they’re either going to get pulled apart by his father or they’re going to forget dinner entirely. He flicks his eyes toward the living room and then turns back to the groceries with a sigh.
“So how did your break your foot?” Kurt asks as he pulls out the leeks, trying to regain some sense of normalcy, because otherwise there’s no way they’re going to make it through the afternoon. Maybe they can go for a walk after dinner, just to have a little time together.
“Um.” Blaine ducks his head with a self-conscious laugh. “I jumped off the couch and clipped the edge of the coffee table.”
“I can see you learned your lesson,” Kurt says, more amused than he really should be by a story about his boyfriend getting injured.
“Hey, I’ve never hit a coffee table again.”
Kurt shakes his head and smiles over at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Blaine asks.
Kurt glances up at his rose on the windowsill. “Not at all,” he says.
*
Tuesdays are both a good and a bad day for Kurt. On the one hand, his schedule and Blaine’s don’t mesh up at all, so Kurt has much of the day to live his life without the blinding presence of his boyfriend. He gets to be Kurt, autonomous and not just the taller and less exuberant half of a couple. He likes himself, and he’s spent too many years standing on his own not to like an occasional reminder that he still can. So Tuesdays are good. On the other hand, he doesn’t get to see Blaine, and that makes Tuesdays far less enjoyable.
When he hears footsteps thundering up behind him on Tuesday as he walks between buildings after third period, he doesn’t think much of them. Dalton is, after all, a school full of boys; they might be wearing uniforms, but they still have far too much energy to be tamed into walking. Kurt simply moves to the side of the path and continues on.
Then hands land heavily on his shoulders, and he finds himself being spun around. He braces for impact with the gut-wrenching instinct of years of public school, but when he sees his attacker his heart leaps into his throat. It’s not because he’s going to be slushied or shoved into anything; it’s because the hands belong to Blaine.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says, a little out of breath from his run. He leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips before pulling back.
Kurt’s hand flies to his mouth, and he gapes at his boyfriend.
Laughing at whatever he sees in Kurt’s face, which is probably some embarrassing combination of shock and delight, Blaine dances backwards a few steps and says, “Got to get to class. Bye, Kurt!” And with that, he turns and runs off at full speed, leaving Kurt standing in the path as students flow around him and wondering with no little amazement how this is his life. Blaine had run all the way across campus and back just to say hello and kiss him. Him.
It isn’t until someone accidentally jostles Kurt with his backpack that he’s able to make his own feet move again. He’s so dazed that he’s not quite sure they touch the ground until he reaches his class.
*
Kurt has taken to studying in the common room during his free periods instead of the library if he has reading to do. For one, he can have a cup of coffee at his side, which makes everything in life go more smoothly. The couches are also more comfortable than the wooden library chairs. And then there’s the fact that when Blaine seeks him out, as he almost always does, they keep their voices down because they like the intimacy of it, not because they have to. It’s way better than the library in so many ways.
Blaine flops down on the couch beside him the next week, closing his eyes and rubbing the heels of his hands against them. “If I have to memorize another equation I think my brain is going to declare itself full and shut down entirely.”
Kurt sets his book on his lap and watches him with sympathy. “When’s your mid-term?”
“Tomorrow.” Blaine lowers his hands and looks over at Kurt. He smiles when his eyes focus. “Hi.”
Kurt smiles back and is proud when his skin only prickles a little at the warmth of Blaine’s gaze. He may actually be getting used to it. “Hello.”
“You know, school would be a lot more fun without tests.”
“Yes, and then it wouldn’t be school,” Kurt says. “It would be camp.”
“I liked camp. I even went back as a junior counselor one year. I got to teach swimming.” He laughs a little. “Once unexpectedly in the middle of the lake when my canoe flipped.”
Kurt imagines a curly-haired boy tipping over in a canoe, his nose sunburned and his hazel eyes full of joy, and his chest clenches a little. “Of course you did.”
“You didn’t like camp?” Blaine asks.
Kurt thinks of his own summers coming up with inspiration boards for redecorating the living room while he sat in the office at his dad’s garage between impromptu lessons in car repair. “I didn’t go to camp.”
“Oh.” Blaine doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, which is okay because Kurt doesn’t know what to say to that, but he does reach out and take Kurt’s hand, stroking his thumb over the back of Kurt’s fingers and distracting him from the topic. “What are you reading?” Blaine asks after a minute.
“Molière,” Kurt says. “I have to write an essay on it tonight.”
“I have one due Friday on Pilgrim’s Progress.” Groaning, Blaine lets his head fall back on the cushions.
There are only a few other students in the room, and they’re focused on their own work, so Kurt leans in and brushes his fingers along Blaine’s temple. “It’ll all be over by the weekend,” he reminds him softly. “We can do something nice to celebrate, if you want.”
Blaine tips his head into Kurt’s touch, and his eyes flutter shut. “If we survive.” He lets out a soft sigh.
“You’d better survive. If I’m going to be planning a spectacular date, I’ll be very upset if my boyfriend isn’t there to enjoy it with me.” Blaine’s skin is warm and smooth, and Kurt strokes the fine wisps of hair at the edge of his hairline back into place.
“We can’t have that,” Blaine says. He opens his eyes and looks up into Kurt’s with startling intensity. Kurt’s fingers still in his surprise. “But, really, Kurt, do you mind if we just do something quiet? I mean, nobody likes spectacular more than I do except maybe you, but I can’t think of what I’d look forward to more this week than having dinner with you and curling up on your couch for a movie. Just the two of us? Please?”
Kurt blinks back his shock. It’s such a simple request, but he didn’t expect it. He enjoys their time together, whatever they’re doing, but for Blaine to go out of his way to ask for some quiet time alone is quite another thing. It makes his heart feel funny in his chest, like it’s filling and growing and pressing the air out of his lungs. Blaine likes him. Kurt knows that, because they’ve been best friends for months now, but still. Blaine’s having a hard week, and what he wants to relax is some quiet time with him.
“Is that okay?” Blaine asks with some concern, and Kurt realizes he hasn’t answered. “I mean, I don’t mind going out. We can go out. Do you want to go out?”
Kurt strokes his fingertips down Blaine’s cheek and shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. We’ll stay in,” he says softly, and Blaine smiles up at him with joy, relief, and something Kurt doesn’t dare call adoration rolled into one.
*
Blaine has the longest and fullest eyelashes in the world.
Kurt knows objectively that this statement is probably not true, but if there is anyone with longer and fuller eyelashes Kurt thinks that he or she must have problems blinking from the weight of them. False eyelashes would be lost on Blaine, literally lost.
Kurt sighs to himself for being ridiculous and tries to focus on the movie, but his eyes keep being drawn back to Blaine’s face where it rests against Kurt’s shoulder. Blaine looks peaceful, his eyes closed and those long, long lashes fanning his cheeks. His breath is slow and even as it puffs across Kurt’s shirt, and Kurt’s not sure if the warmth blooming across his skin is from the exhalations themselves or just his reaction to them. He tells himself to stop being so fixated, but it doesn’t work. He looks up at the screen for approximately five seconds before he finds himself contemplating Blaine’s lashes again.
There’s not much Kurt can do but think about them... and the rest of Blaine. He can’t move. His arm is cramped, his neck is stiff, and he can’t move, because Blaine is curled up against him asleep. It is one of the most incredible things he’s ever experienced. Blaine is asleep with him, his forehead tucked against Kurt’s jaw, his hand tangled in Kurt’s shirt, and his ankle hooked around Kurt’s leg. It was nice enough just sitting together on the couch watching the movie this way, but now that Blaine’s asleep it is wonderful beyond imagining.
It’s not that Kurt thinks a sleeping Blaine is more appealing than an awake one, because Blaine while awake, though exuberant, is also happy and able to talk to, tease, and (when appropriate) make out with Kurt. A sleeping Blaine just sleeps. Sleeps and cuddles, as Kurt remembers from a few months ago, but this time Blaine’s not drunk and Kurt has no need to push him away. Instead, he feels warm and content that Blaine, who has had a long week, is comfortable enough in their relationship and in him to let his guard down and doze off. It’s hard to believe that he can make someone feel so at ease that he falls asleep.
Kurt carefully reaches out for his glass of water and takes a sip to try to keep his emotions at bay. He wants to savor every minute of this experience so that he can remember it all later. It’s another treasured memory to put away in the virtual scrapbook of Blaine in his mind. It’s already overflowing.
The movie plays on largely ignored, and a little while later Kurt’s dad walks through the room; he immediately softens his steps when he notices Blaine.
“Everything okay?” he asks Kurt with a little frown.
“It’s mid-terms this week. He was up half the night writing up his English essay,” Kurt whispers.
Burt looks between the two of them with an expression Kurt would like to categorize as puzzled but is probably more like surprised. It makes some sense; Kurt has never, ever seen Finn or his girlfriend of the moment fall asleep on the couch while they’re supposed to be watching a movie together. Then Burt shrugs and says, “Need anything?”
“No, thanks, dad. I’m great,” Kurt says with a genuine smile.
“Okay. I’ll come by a little later and see how you’re doing.” It’s less of a warning than it would have been if Blaine were awake, and Kurt is warmed by that, too, that his father sees Blaine as someone else to take care of like he does his family.
A minute or so after Kurt’s dad heads up the stairs, his feet heavy on the treads, Blaine stirs. “Hey,” he says muzzily to Kurt’s collarbone.
“Shh,” Kurt says, tightening the arm he has draped over Blaine’s back because he really isn’t ready to let the moment end.
“Was that your dad?”
Kurt strokes Blaine’s side. “Yes. Shh.”
“Is he mad?” Blaine asks.
“Why would he be mad?”
“He was mad the last time I slept here.”
Somehow refraining from pointing out that Blaine was drunk and in Kurt’s bed the last time, Kurt says, “It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m missing the movie,” Blaine replies, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise.
“It’s the age-old story of boy meets girl; they sing, they dance, they flee the Nazis.”
“But you love this movie.”
“Which is why I’m fine with saying we’ll watch it again another time.”
“Good. Okay. That’s nice. You’re nice. Really nice.” Blaine pats Kurt’s leg, snuffles a little into his neck, and falls silent once more.
By the end of the movie, Kurt’s face hurts from smiling, and it isn’t just due to the Von Trapps.
*
Blaine is insanely distracting. It’s not just that he’s filled with enough bouncing energy to fuel a small, earthquake-prone city, but even when he’s relatively still he’s distracting. Kurt’s long been a martyr to Blaine’s warm eyes, and his cheekbones, and his mouth, and his shoulders, and the line of his throat, and the shadow of his jaw at the end of the day, and the soft sound of his fingertips tapping against the desk to the beat of whatever music is running through his head, and... Yes, he’s very distracting.
Studying together has always been a bit of a challenge for Kurt, even when he knew that Blaine wasn’t interested in him. Back then he was focused on making sure his thoughts didn’t drift too far out of the boundaries of their friendship. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on Blaine’s eyelashes in person (too much) or the warmth of Blaine’s hands when they settled on his shoulders when Blaine stopped to lean down over him when he was walking by. He only noticed the line of Blaine’s back in a purely aesthetic fashion. He knew Blaine was both handsome and compelling, but he couldn’t think about it. Anything more would have led to insanity and the probable loss of the most important friendship in his life, so he learned to focus on his homework even in the face of Blaine’s distracting presence.
Now studying is a challenge in a different way, because he’s still supposed to be focusing on his work, but he’s allowed to look. He’s allowed to touch his foot to Blaine’s beneath the library table or slip a butterscotch to him when the librarians aren’t looking and then spend the next fifteen minutes feeling altogether too hot in his uniform as Blaine’s mouth purses and sucks around the candy. He’s allowed to slip his fingers through Blaine’s on the table as they read. He’s allowed, but it definitely doesn’t help with his grades or his composure. He needs to be mature, like Blaine is. Blaine can still work with Kurt there. Not every second of the day needs to be about their relationship.
So Kurt redoubles his efforts at concentrating, and he actually becomes pretty good at it. If he occasionally finds himself memorizing the exact silhouette of Blaine’s face instead of his French conjugations he snaps his attention back the second he notices. It’s still wonderful to be able to be together and to walk hand-in-hand from the library at the end of the afternoon.
And then Kurt notices something: Blaine isn’t as focused on his own work as he appears. Kurt looks up from his English reading one afternoon and finds Blaine staring at him, his eyes dark, his cheeks flushed, and his breathing ragged. Kurt somehow manages not to let his jaw drop at the hunger in Blaine’s expression, and then Blaine is ducking his head and hastily excusing himself and leaving through the front doors of the library. He returns maybe ten minutes later, largely back to his usual pulled-together self, but Kurt can’t stop thinking about it.
Kurt starts to collect these moments, the little catches of breath or the extra long stares when they’re both supposed to be working on something else. They make him flush when he thinks about them, because he knows that Blaine is attracted to him, but it’s one thing to encourage the passion in Blaine’s kisses when they’re pressed together and quite another to make Blaine lose his composure while Kurt is doing absolutely nothing at all but sitting there. It makes Kurt feel kind of fluttery in ways he can’t quite identify. He likes it. It makes him a bit uncomfortable, but he likes it.
It also makes painfully Kurt self-conscious, and for a day or two he can hardly focus on his reading because he’s constantly forcing himself not to look over at Blaine. He starts to fidget with his pen as an unconscious way to relieve some of his nerves, and as he twirls it through his fingers he hears a strangled noise from across the table. Kurt glances up and goes hot at the intense way Blaine is staring at his hand like it is the most compelling thing in the universe.
When Blaine kisses him so breathless against his car at the end of the day that his legs threaten to buckle, Kurt starts to formulate a plan.
The next day they have Warblers practice, but the day after Kurt makes sure he sits across from Blaine with his back to the room at their favorite table in the library. It’s a rainy afternoon before the dorms are open, so the library is busy but not uncomfortably so, and they have their corner to themselves. At first Kurt just reads, or tries to, because his nerves threaten to get the best of him. Is he being stupid? He’s not a flirt, he has no practice with it, but if he can’t try with his boyfriend, who is obviously already attracted, then he won’t ever be able to learn. Not that he wants to flirt with other people, but getting a reaction from Blaine could be really enjoyable.
After a few minutes, he starts to run his pen along his throat, after making sure it’s capped properly; there’s no point in ruining his uniform shirt, as basic and boring as it is. He trails it up and down, up and down, waiting, waiting, and then he hears the telltale catch of Blaine’s breath. Kurt manages not to smile, and he turns the page as he continues to skim the cap of the pen along his skin. He listens to Blaine’s breathing speed up, and then he dips the pen lower, just into his collar. Blaine makes a little noise and shifts in his seat. From the corner of his eye, Kurt can see him look down at his book, but a few seconds later he’s watching Kurt again.
Kurt drags it out a little longer, but his nerves are starting to edge in again that he’s doing something he just doesn’t know how to do, and he slips on the guise of confidence like it’s his favorite jacket. He knows how to fake it. So when he’s sure of Blaine’s attention he drops his pen onto his notebook and stretches his arms over his head like he has a crick in his back. It actually does feel good, especially when he hears Blaine choke back a sound, and he stretches back further, enjoying the pull in his muscles. He is tense, he feels so foolish and powerful all at once, and -
Blaine rockets out of his chair.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asks, still mid-stretch.
Blaine looks wild, a tempest in his eyes, and he focuses everywhere but Kurt. After a second, he swallows and settles his expression. "I need something from the stacks," he says thickly and rushes off without looking back.
Kurt stares after him, his stomach plummeting to his toes as wonders if he’s read the signs all wrong. Blaine looked upset, not hungry, not interested, and the last thing Kurt wants to do is upset him. He’s no good at this. He doesn’t even know what he was thinking, because he has a boyfriend. He doesn’t need to flirt to try to catch him. Obviously he doesn’t, because it just drove him away. It’s not like the other time; he’d looked upset. Unhappy.
Kurt allows himself ten seconds to rest his head in his hands, and then he goes after Blaine. He needs to make things right.
The library is full, but Kurt doesn’t know that many people well enough to chat with them. He asks a few Warblers here and there if they’ve seen Blaine, and soon he finds him with his forehead pressed against a rain-drenched window deep in the stacks.
Kurt steps forward slowly, watching the tense line of Blaine’s shoulders beneath his blazer and listening to the hoarseness of his breathing. He doesn’t sound okay.
Kurt’s shoes are all but silent on the carpet, and he shies away from touching Blaine without giving him some sort of warning. “Blaine?” he asks, and when Blaine jumps and spins around in shock, Kurt backs away with his hands up in front of him in apology. "Sorry. I was just worried about you. Are you okay?"
Blaine nods and says, "Yeah. I just needed to move around a little." His voice is a little unsteady.
“Too much studying, not enough furniture jumping?”
“Uh, yeah,” Blaine says, flushing and fidgeting with the sleeve of his blazer. “Something like that.”
Tilting his head, Kurt watches him for a moment. Blaine’s eyes are dark and don’t stop roving over him, and Kurt wonders if he’s been interpreting things incorrectly. He tentatively licks over his lower lip and sees Blaine’s hands clench into fists. Oh. Oh. That’s not unhappiness after all.
Kurt glances around and smirks a little to himself. He is doing this right. He walks forward and he stops just in front of Blaine. “Or did something else distract you?” He runs the tip of his finger down Blaine’s tie.
It takes a second for Blaine to catch on, and then his eyes go as wide as some of the characters in those comic books Tina likes so much. “You were doing that on purpose,” Blaine says with obvious amazement. He looks at Kurt like he’s told him the Warblers are going on tour with Pink, like it’s impossible but totally welcome.
“Doing what?” Kurt asks, not trying to feign innocence in the slightest. He grins with relief.
“You know exactly what.” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and pulls him in closer. “You were driving me crazy,” he murmurs in Kurt’s ear, and the gravel in his voice goes straight to Kurt’s groin. He shivers, helpless, and feels the urge to close the few inches still left between them.
"Was I?" Kurt tries not to sound as delighted as he feels, because it had worked. He had flirted with Blaine in an entirely new way, and it had worked. He can do this. He can really do this.
"I am going to fail my Chem quiz tomorrow because of you," Blaine tells him.
Kurt leans in, smiling. "Then maybe I should let you get back to studying. I have more to do, too," he says. Not that he’s going to be able to study now, but at least he can sit and crow silently over his success. And he hadn’t even gotten to try some of his other ideas. He tugs at his hand a little, but Blaine doesn't let go.
Instead he kisses Kurt's hand from his palm down to the cuff of his sleeve open-mouthed, and when his teeth graze Kurt’s skin his fingers instinctively curl inward. A shiver goes up his spine. "Oh, I have other things I need to do first," Blaine says. He kisses each of Kurt's fingers in turn, covering first the backs and then the tips in soft, slow presses. His mouth is warm, his lips slightly dry, and their every touch makes Kurt’s blood heat another degree. His tie is getting tighter and tighter. So are, if he is going to be honest, his pants.
"I don't think I thought this through," Kurt says weakly, because he really should have known that driving Blaine a little crazy would end up with Blaine kissing him and making him crazy. Not that it’s unwelcome, but he should have known. He swallows back the moan that threatens to escape when Blaine kisses his palm, soft and wet.
Meeting his eyes again, Blaine chuckles ruefully. "This is all I'm going to be able to think about.”
“Me, too,” Kurt admits. He glances around at the quiet library around them, with all of the people and the lack of real privacy. His heart falls at how badly he misjudged the environment for this sort of thing, because he’d really like to take advantage of Blaine’s mood. “Yeah, I really didn’t think this through.” He turns his hand in Blaine’s grip and laces their fingers together. “Sorry?” he says with a embarrassed shrug.
“No.” Blaine tugs Kurt in against him, and the press of his body and the arm he slips around Kurt’s waist makes Kurt’s pulse race. It’s not helping, but it’s still great. “No, you are not apologizing.”
That makes Kurt relax, as much as he can relax when so close to him. At least Blaine isn’t upset about the teasing, and if he’s not upset then Kurt really can’t be, not when Blaine is smiling at him with such warm eyes. “Okay.” He looks around again and judges the likelihood of someone in authority bothering them. There aren’t any tables near their aisle, and a quick glance at the spines of nearby books places them firmly in the midst of the wildly unpopular area of maritime history. The librarians are probably all busy with the glut of students in the building. He and Blaine are unlikely to be noticed, at least in the next few minutes.
“Then I’m going to do this, instead.” He dips his head to kiss Blaine, and since he doesn’t know what sort of time they have and since his nerves are still sparking with the remains of trepidation and the glow of success he doesn’t start out slowly. He kisses Blaine deeply, bringing his hand up to cup Blaine’s cheek and getting the other around him to tuck against Blaine’s lower back. His head spins at how good it feels and how readily Blaine responds.
Blaine meets him without any resistance, just enthusiasm and appreciation. He is solid as Kurt leans into him, open and ready to accept the press of his body from knee to chest. He moans softly when Kurt strokes along the line of his hair and the curve of his jaw, and he holds Kurt closer like he needs him there. There’s not a part of him that is rejecting a thing Kurt is doing, and Kurt kisses him harder with wonder and delight. Blaine gasps and then moans again more loudly when Kurt can’t stop himself from nipping at his lip.
“Shh,” Kurt says, soothing the spot with gentle, teasing kisses. “This is a library.” He can’t keep himself from smiling. He’s happy. He’s happy and proud and really turned on by it all. He kisses the corner of Blaine’s mouth, the curve of his lower lip.
Blaine’s hands jerk hard in the fabric of Kurt’s blazer. “God, Kurt, you have no idea how much I want to - " he breaks off and goes stiff in Kurt’s arms.
"What?" When Blaine doesn’t immediately answer, Kurt pulls back and looks at him, soothing him with gentle touches to his face.
"I don't know. Everything." Blaine’s eyes are desperate and vulnerable when they meet Kurt’s, and Kurt’s breath catches with the intensity of it. Blaine shakes his head a little and adds, "Not now, not all at once. But I do. God, I do. With you."
He’s so earnest and open with his desire that Kurt’s heart hurts in his chest with the joy of being wanted, and it’s either kiss him or give into the emotion threatening to choke him, and he’s so not going to pull into himself when Blaine is right there. He cups Blaine’s face in his hands and pushes him back against the bookcase probably more roughly than he should, because he just needs to kiss him. And he can.
Blaine doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s kissing back, giving everything in return, happy and hungry, and Kurt wonders how he ever got so lucky to find this freedom.
He doesn’t know how, he really doesn’t, but it makes his heart soar to have it.
*
It’s finally happening.
Kurt walks across the campus beside Blaine feeling like he’s in a dream. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and the squirrels and chipmunks are possibly performing an elaborate dance number with top hats and canes just around the corner.
He is transferring back to McKinley. He can hardly believe it. He’s wanted to go back and be where he belongs since the day he left, and now he can. He can be with his friends. He can stand out through song. He can wear his own clothes every single day. It’s wonderful. He’s getting what he wanted.
He can barely contain his grin as he clings to Blaine’s hand on their way to the day student lot. They’re walking slowly, but Kurt’s steps are as light as air. He’s going back to McKinley.
Leaving Blaine behind at Dalton is the only downside, and Kurt had been a little nervous to break the news that afternoon when he’d gotten back to school. It is a big change, after all. Blaine had looked shocked at first, which was a surprise since he’d known what Kurt had hoped for from the meeting with Dave and his father, but he’d pulled himself together and had been as supportive and wonderful as Kurt had known he would be. Kurt smiles to himself; Blaine is always supportive and wonderful.
Dating Blaine while at McKinley will be different from seeing each other every day at Dalton, but it will be okay, because it’s Blaine. Blaine, who will miss him and who even before Kurt was at Dalton made an effort to see him as much as possible. It’s going to be just fine. He knows it will. He’s sure of it.
Still, Kurt feels a pang when they turn down the path to the lot and he catches sight of his car, and he checks the time on his phone. He really should go; they’d spent far too long lying together quietly on Blaine’s bed this afternoon, just being together. But the reality of leaving hits him in a way it hasn’t before, because Blaine walking him to his car isn’t the same this time. Soon he won’t be coming back. That’s great, it’s what he wants, but it’s still different.
He looks over at Blaine, who is watching him with a calm sadness he can’t quite hide. Blaine smiles when he sees Kurt looking at him, and that automatic veneer of being okay being thrown over his other emotions makes up Kurt’s mind. This is for both of them.
“I know you’ll have to sprint to dorm dinner, and I’m going to have to dodge getting a speeding ticket as it is, but can you give me a few more minutes?” Kurt asks.
Blaine’s eyes brighten a little, and he says, “Of course.”
Dalton is lacking in useful things like benches in this part of the campus, so Kurt leads Blaine over to one of the big oak trees that line the edge of the lot. Since his uniform doesn’t have to last much longer, he sets his bag down, sinks to the ground, and pulls Blaine down with him. Once Blaine sits against the tree and Kurt curls back into him he can almost forget about the damage the roots and grass must be doing to the fabric of his pants.
Blaine settles his arms around Kurt from behind, and Kurt closes his eyes for a moment as he smiles and put his hands on top of Blaine’s on his stomach. It feels wonderful and safe, all the more because he gets to take it with him. He gets to go back to McKinley and take Blaine’s steady affection with him. It makes every horrible step that’s gotten them here, from being bullied by Dave to being exiled to Dalton to being overlooked by Blaine for so very long, completely worth it.
“Thank you,” Kurt says softly.
Blaine kisses the side of Kurt’s head and leaves his face there, his breath ruffling Kurt’s hair, as they sit without speaking. The lot is mostly empty at this time of day, so there’s nothing to disturb them but the sounds of the birds in the trees and the distant happy shouts of students playing some game on the quad before dinner. It’s the kind of peaceful moment he’ll miss having here with Blaine, but they’ll just have to make them somewhere else.
Kurt will be sorry to lose some things about Dalton - the easy acceptance of his sexuality if not necessarily his personality, the camaraderie with boys of a sort he’s never had before, the lack of garish sports-themed t-shirts being worn in class, the amazing grilled chicken sandwiches in the dining hall - but they all pale in the face of what he’ll have at McKinley. He gets to go back. Somehow thanks to Santana and Dave Karofsky, the most unlikely pair in the world, he gets to return to where he belongs.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kurt whispers.
“What?” Blaine asks. “Going back?”
“Going back. Having you. I never thought I’d - “ Kurt stops himself abruptly and shrugs. It’s too much to say. When he left, he only thought he would get safety. He never thought he’d get both Blaine and the ability to return. It had been so unthinkable he couldn’t even wish for it at the time, and he out of anyone knows how to wish for big things.
“You deserve it all and more,” Blaine murmurs warmly in his ear. Kurt can feel the rumble in Blaine’s chest through his back. “Enjoy it.”
Laughing a little, Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand. “Oh, I am. I am.” His heart has risen into his throat and is threatening to choke him with happiness. And there’s no one to pull this gift away from him here like Lucy playing football with Charlie Brown. It’s all real. He gets to have it all.
Kurt’s phone starts to play “Bust your Windows,” Mercedes’ familiar ring tone, and Kurt scrambles to answer it. Blaine’s arms tighten around him, and Kurt says over his shoulder, “Sorry. Mercedes has left me approximately twenty-seven messages and fifty texts this afternoon. Let me just -
“Hi,” he says into the phone. “Can I call you in a few from the car? I need to say goodbye to Blaine.” He absently strokes his fingers over Blaine’s as Mercedes ignores his request and asks him a thousand questions in a row about what’s happening now that he’s transferring back.
“ - and when is this happening? When?” she asks.
“I don’t know yet,” Kurt tells her. “Figgins will call my dad tonight. Soon, though.”
“Not soon enough, boy. We’ve missed you.”
Kurt can’t keep from laughing at how the excitement in her voice mirrors the feelings in his own heart. “I know. It will be good to be home.” He squeezes Blaine’s hand and gets an answering press of fingers in return. “Seriously, let me call you from the car. We can talk all about it. Blaine’s got to get to dinner.”
Blaine tightens his arm and sighs, shifting a little like he is going to get up, and Kurt knows he really does have to let him go.
“Don’t you dare,” Kurt says to Blaine over his shoulder, because Mercedes can wait two minutes for him to have a proper kiss goodbye.
“Tell me you’re going to sing when you get back,” Mercedes says. “You know we’ve missed you, and Rachel needs to be reminded she’s not the only one who can knock Broadway out of the park.”
Kurt’s breath catches at how much he wants to stand up and sing for them. It feels so right, and he’s been thinking about it since the minute he realized the transfer was actually going to happen. “Yes, I’m going to talk to Mr. Schue about it, but I know he’ll give me a few minutes at the start of practice. I can’t wait to sing for you guys.”
“I’m just saying, with the way Rachel’s been trying to dominate things around here, a little Streisand might be just what the doctor called for.”
“Mercedes, stop,” Kurt says, laughing, tugging Blaine’s arm up to hug him around his chest in his excitement. He has a perfect flash of inspiration, and he half-turns to Blaine, unable to contain the smile that threatens to overwhelm him. “I know exactly what I’m going to sing,” he tells them both.
Blaine’s answering smile is a little tight, but he presses his mouth to Kurt’s hair as Kurt finally convinces Mercedes to get off of the phone and then kisses him for a long, lush, breathless minute before they have to pull apart to go their separate ways.
“Call me tonight?” Kurt says as Blaine takes a few steps backwards but doesn’t let go of Kurt’s hand.
“Will you have time to talk?” Blaine asks. “I know you have a lot to do.” He’s obviously trying to sound supportive and understanding, but there’s a lurking unhappiness in his eyes. Kurt knows it will go away when Blaine sees how happy he is. “Phone calls to make, outfits to plan.”
“I will make time,” Kurt assures him and gets a real smile in return before Blaine glances at his watch in apology and has to run off.
Kurt talks to Mercedes the whole way home, but in his heart he is singing.
*
from Kurt:
12:05 pm - Rachel is on a roll today. I don’t know how she’s managing to chew and swallow her lunch around how fast she’s talking.
12:12 pm - I need you to settle a dispute for me with Rachel. Get your lunch and text me.
12:14 pm - You don’t have to choose my side, of course, but I think you will because you actually have a modicum of sense.
12:23 pm - This is important. I don’t care if you’re still in line to get your food. Mercedes is taking Rachel’s side now.
12:24 pm - And Santana. This is madness!
12:27 pm - Blaine?
12:28 pm - Did you forget to charge your phone again? Do I need to deputize Trent to keep on you about it now that I’m back here?
from Blaine:
2:25 pm - Sorry, sorry, sorry! I forgot my phone in my bag when I left it in the commons before lunch, and I just now was able to check it. What’s going on?
2:25 pm - And please don’t sic Trent on me. I charged my phone last night.
from Kurt:
2:27 pm - The argument is over, and Rachel is strutting around like she owns Glee Club. I am soothing myself with the memory of her being pelted with eggs.
from Blaine:
2:28 pm - That’s why I like you so much; you’re a great friend. ;) xx
Kurt laughs and types back :P xx before sliding his phone into his bag. He can’t help the smile on his face.
“I thought you were sulking,” Mercedes whispers to him, her eyes still on Rachel, who is standing at the front of the Choir Room and lecturing them about song selection criteria for Nationals. For some reason, probably because the universe is by its very nature entirely unfair, Mr. Schue isn’t stopping her.
“I’m focusing on the happier things in my life,” he tells her.
*
Nodding his thanks to the barista, Kurt picks up the drinks from the counter and turns to find someplace to sit. The Lima Bean is busy but not unpleasantly so, and he settles on a table in the middle of the room, far enough away from the registers that they won’t be bothered by the foot traffic but not so close to the windows that they’ll be blinded by the sun’s glare.
He tucks his bag beside his chair, arranges the cups, napkins, and so forth at their places, and adjusts the set of his bow tie.
Then he takes out his phone and pretends to look at it while he waits.
It shouldn’t be weird. Kurt has had coffee with Blaine in the Lima Bean more times than he can count, both as friends and now as boyfriends, and it’s never been weird, not even the first time when Kurt had felt as brittle as a caramel cage and Blaine had been a lifeline in a blazer more than a potential friend.
It shouldn’t be weird, because Kurt has arrived before Blaine before, and he’s ordered their coffee and found a table on his own a dozen times or more, choosing the seat facing the door so that he could enjoy seeing Blaine for a few candid seconds as he looked for Kurt. Even when they were just friends, Blaine had always had a flash of relief cross his face when he found Kurt across the room before his smile bloomed, like he’d been worried Kurt wouldn’t be there, and back when Kurt had had to save up moments of affection like a squirrel hoarding nuts for a long, cold winter Blaine’s happiness at seeing him - him - had been one of his favorite memories each week.
It shouldn’t be weird, because Kurt has talked to Blaine every night since he transferred, and even if he hadn’t that Blaine had showed up to serenade him on his first day back at McKinley certainly cemented the fact that Blaine is willing to go out of his way to support the change and express his enduring affection.
But this is the first time that they’ve met at the Lima Bean since Kurt’s transfer, and it is weird. It is. It feels fraught with additional tension and meaning. Instead of it being a place they go to decompress at the end of a long day at Dalton, now it’s the only place they’ll see each other today. Now it’s the middle ground, a compromise instead of a coda. Now it’s where their lives intersect instead of another place their lives are shared. That hasn’t been true for a long time, and though Kurt knows everything’s so different now he still can remember just how it felt to wait at this very table for a glimpse of Blaine’s bright smile to get him through his horrible, lonely weeks. That’s not what his life is now, it’s so far from that these days it’s like it was a lifetime ago, but his stomach still clenches with that sense memory as he sits and waits for Blaine to walk through the door.
Kurt traces a pattern on the tabletop with the tip of his finger, following the grain of the wood beneath its layers of varnish. He’s being foolish. There’s no need to be nervous. Just because the time here carries more weight again, it doesn’t mean that it is bad.
The door jingles as it opens, and Kurt glances up to see Blaine hurrying through, as handsome as always in his uniform. Blaine looks around the cafe. An elderly couple walks between them as Blaine turns in Kurt’s direction, and they’re hidden from each other for a moment. When Kurt can catch sight of Blaine again, Blaine’s shoulders are tight and his brows are drawn together with worry. Blaine’s gaze flits around the room once more, and then his whole body relaxes in an instant when he sees Kurt.
Kurt smiles automatically, and Blaine beams at him, skirting around the couple and walking right to Kurt, his eyes never leaving him.
“Hi,” Blaine says, sliding into the seat across from him. He’s still smiling, and Kurt realizes he is, too. He can’t seem to stop.
“Hello.”
“You bought me coffee.”
“It is a coffee shop,” Kurt says, taking a sip of his own drink to try to calm the fluttering in his stomach. It’s not that Blaine looks any different than he did a couple of days ago, but he’s right there. Not on the other end of the phone line, not behind a text or e-mail. His hazel eyes and broad shoulders and lovely hands are right there.
Blaine seems similarly captivated by Kurt if the way his eyes roam across Kurt’s face and over his outfit are any indication. Kurt sits quietly as Blaine takes him in, confident in his choice of outfit and in his boyfriend that the attention is a good thing. “I’ve missed you,” Blaine says after a minute.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Kurt tells him, and then he holds his hand out, Blaine’s fingers twine with his, and all of a sudden it isn’t weird at all. They can do this. He really has this. He takes a deep breath, the first he’s been able to manage since Blaine walked in the door. “So tell me about your day. No detail is too small.”
Blaine laughs a little like he’s embarrassed by the request, but he squeezes Kurt’s hand and tells him, anyway.
*
Kurt walks down the hallway the next day between Mercedes and Artie and hums to himself.
He loves being back at McKinley. Sure, the cafeteria food is awful, the classes are less interesting, and the gym is still an olfactory nightmare, but Kurt doesn’t mind because he’s home. He has his friends, he has Glee Club, and he has his full ability to express himself. He’s happy.
The only thing he doesn’t have at McKinley is Blaine, and though he thinks wistfully of being able to walk down the halls hand-in-hand at Dalton he believes in taking advantage of the time they do have together instead of just wishing for more. He’ll always want more, after all. It’s his nature. He always wants more than he has. It’s why he’s going to get out of Lima as soon as he graduates, it’s why he’s going to achieve his dreams, and it’s why he has such a great boyfriend to begin with.
But just because Kurt wants more doesn’t mean that he doesn’t appreciate what he has. He has his family. He has his friends. He has a boyfriend who cares for and supports him and shows no sign of stopping. He has love, whether or not it’s returned or just his own freely given and accepted.
Kurt turns into the Choir Room and finds that he's smiling.
When it comes down to it, despite the fact that he’ll always be striving for more, he has everything.
~end~
The problem with being teenagers, besides protective parents and limited clothing budgets, is that they just don’t have a good, reliable, private space to spend time together. Kurt’s house has his family, Blaine’s dorm room has a roommate, Dalton has teachers, librarians, and proctors, and pretty much everywhere else is, well, public. So while Kurt and Blaine spend as much time as they can steal in private, they are also forced out into the rest of the world quite a bit.
Kurt hates it. It’s not that he doesn’t like to go out, because obviously shopping is one of his passions and sitting across the table at a restaurant with Blaine is so amazing and perfect that his heart skips a beat just thinking about it, but there’s something exceptionally special about the world just being the two of them in a space with no one else. Even apart from the freedom it gives them to learn about each other and themselves, being alone with Blaine makes Kurt feel happier and somehow safer than he has since he was a child, when nothing really mattered but his parents and the love in their home. He hadn’t expected to feel anything like that kind of peace ever again. He hadn't thought it was even possible. Maybe not for anyone, but certainly not for him. Except it is. It's wonderful. He gets some of it just by being with Blaine anywhere, and he doesn’t need it every minute of the day, but if he’s honest he wouldn’t mind.
There aren't a lot of opportunities for them to be alone in private, so the few they do get are precious. Tonight was supposed to have been one of them. Unfortunately, Carole threw out her back yesterday, so instead of going out with Kurt’s dad tonight and leaving Finn and Kurt to their own amusements (playing video games in his room with Puck and watching a movie and making out on the couch with Blaine, respectively and quite separately) she’s lying on the couch, and Burt has taken the day off to help her. It completely foils Kurt’s plans for a quiet but dreamy night at home.
He’s used to pitching in, though, and he sighs away his regrets and readjusts his afternoon plans to include putting something together for dinner. Of course, when he goes into the cabinet to find the panko breadcrumbs almost gone he realizes that they must have been what Finn had been complaining about as “the most tasteless cereal ever” the other day.
Kurt rolls his eyes and quickly texts Blaine. Change of plans yet again. Grocery shopping, then cooking. Finn ate the panko for breakfast.
Two texts from Blaine almost immediately follow: Why?! and then Never mind. I know I shouldn’t ask. Want me to pick up some at the store? I was planning to stop, anyway.
That would be wonderful. Thank you, Kurt texts back.
Need anything else?
Kurt pokes his head into the refrigerator to see what else Finn might have decimated. A bunch of celery, three leeks, and a step-brother who doesn’t eat first and read labels second.
I’m not sure they sell the third one, but celery and leeks I can get. xx is Blaine’s reply, and Kurt smiles as he pockets his phone. He doesn’t know if Blaine even knows what a leek looks like, but he knows he’ll ask someone if he gets confused. It’s nice to be able to depend on him.
Kurt is still busy cutting up chicken when the doorbell rings, so he is forced to wash his hands and let Finn get the door. When he goes out into the living room to save his boyfriend from his family, though, he finds Blaine standing by the couch with an enormous bouquet of mixed flowers in various shades of pink, and if the actual arrangement lacks refinement Kurt stops dead in the doorway and forgets to breathe for a minute because Blaine is holding flowers. Kurt doesn’t know what to do with himself. He clenches his hands at his sides so that they don’t flutter around and ignores the buzzing in his ears. It’s probably from lack of oxygen, because he really, truly can’t figure out how to draw a breath. Blaine has flowers.
Then Blaine hands them with a charming smile to Carole, who coos over them, and Kurt’s world returns to normal with a thud. He swallows and inhales slowly. Of course the flowers weren’t for him. Blaine bought them for Carole, and it’s a lovely gesture. It’s what you do when visiting someone who is hurt. That makes so much more sense. He shouldn’t be disappointed; he isn’t disappointed. This makes more sense. Besides, they really are an uncoordinated riot of shades and textures.
“Thank you, Blaine. They’re beautiful,” Carole says and hands the flowers to Finn, who stands there staring at them awkwardly for a second before galumphing past Kurt to get a vase.
“There’s more,” Blaine says. He catches sight of Kurt and flashes him a smile before digging into the paper bag. “I got a sudoku book and some crosswords, too. Just so you don’t get bored.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Carole says. She looks so touched, though, and Kurt can’t help but smile a little that his boyfriend was so sweet and thoughtful.
“It was my pleasure. There’s only so much TV you can watch, you know?” Blaine shrugs.
“Especially when I have to share the remote,” Carole agrees, gesturing at her family around her.
“Exactly.” Blaine stands up and says, “Now, I believe I should deliver these groceries before the chef gets mad and comes after me with a knife for delaying dinner."
Carole glances over at Kurt and says, "I don't think you have to worry about that."
"No," Kurt agrees, "my methods would require far less bloodshed. Finn makes enough messes to clean up."
"Hey - " Finn starts; he backs down as soon as Kurt raises an eyebrow at him.
"I'm not sure that's comforting," Blaine says, but he follows Kurt into the kitchen anyway and puts the bag down on the counter where Kurt points. He crosses to the other side of the kitchen and leans against the cabinets, out of the way.
“Thank you,” Kurt says about the groceries. His stomach flutters when Blaine smiles at him, the way it always does. “I may need to start labeling things ‘Not for Finn’ so that he doesn’t eat them.”
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to label what he can eat?” Blaine asks. He’s vibrating a little, not quite bouncing on his toes, like he does when he has extra energy he can’t get out. Usually that means Kurt has an impromptu serenade in his future, and he hopes Blaine doesn’t pick anything too embarrassing to sing.
Kurt shakes his head and pulls out a clean cutting board. “That would require him to notice that something doesn’t have his name on it. I think that’s stretching things, don’t you?”
“Probably,” Blaine agrees with a laugh. When Kurt pulls a knife out of the block, Blaine puts his hands up and backs away a few steps. “Hey, I said I was sorry for not coming directly into the kitchen with the leeks.”
“Actually, you didn’t.”
Blaine gives him his best puppy eyes, which are admittedly very good, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Kurt snorts, but he smiles, too. He can’t help it. His boyfriend is ridiculous, and for some reason he likes it. “Much better.” He lays the knife down on the cutting board and crosses the few feet of floor between them. “It was sweet,” he says. “Bringing the flowers and books to Carole.”
Shrugging and looking mildly self-conscious, Blaine says, “I broke a couple of bones in my foot when I was a kid and had to spend a lot of my summer with my foot in a cast. I remember getting sick of cartoons, and I hadn’t thought that was possible.”
“See? Sweet.” Kurt leans in to brush their mouths together, very aware that his family is right there in the next room. His blood starts to hum in his veins even with such a brief contact, but it’s all he’ll allow himself.
Blaine lets out a little, awkward laugh. “I’m glad you think so,” he says.
“What’s going on?” Kurt asks, scrutinizing Blaine’s face and taking in the slight flush in his cheeks, shifty eyes, and sheepish smile. Yes, something is going on.
“Why do you - “
“Blaine.”
Blaine just gestures at the bag of groceries on the other side of the kitchen. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his cardigan and watches as Kurt goes to investigate. Had he forgotten the celery? Had he forgotten the panko? Kurt’s mind starts to spin through various other dinner options and then screeches to a complete stop. Oh.
There, nestled among the leeks, is a single perfect red rose. Kurt pulls it out carefully and stares at it. Blaine brought him a rose. Blaine brought him a flawless, elegant crimson rose.
“Is it weird?” Blaine asks without a hint of his usual confidence. “Me bringing you flowers? Okay, a flower, but - ”
Kurt shakes his head, not taking his eyes off of the velvety petals. They’re just beginning to open. The flower will last days before it starts to degrade, longer if he refreshes the water and puts in a little bit of sugar. Maybe he’ll dry the petals when the rose is past its prime. He has the perfect little glass-topped box with pierced wooden sides to keep them in. If he moves things around a little, he could keep it on his dressing table. He hasn’t been happy with his bottle arrangement for some time now.
“I thought you might think it was weird,” Blaine continues, oblivious to the workings of Kurt’s mind. “Or a cliche. Or both. I was betting on both.”
“No,” Kurt tells him, barely able to get his voice louder than a whisper. He looks away from the flower then and meets Blaine’s eyes. “No. It’s lovely. The flower, the gesture, all of it.”
The worry flies out of Blaine’s expression, and he gives Kurt the sort of warm, delighted smile Kurt knows he should be giving him if only he weren’t so stunned.
“Thank you,” Kurt tells him, and he’s about to write off his family and go kiss Blaine again when Finn walks into the kitchen.
“Hey, another flower,” he says. “Did that fall out of my mom’s bouquet?”
When Finn reaches out for it, Kurt pulls the rose back against his chest. “No, this one is for me.”
“Oh.” Finn frowns a little, looks back and forth between the two of them, and says, “Okay.” He peeks into the bag beside Kurt. “Celery! Awesome!”
“Hands off,” Kurt says, smacking Finn’s fingers with his free hand.
Finn’s shoulders slump. “I’m hungry.”
“Dinner will be in forty-five minutes,” Kurt tells him. “If you stay out of the way. You know I don’t like people standing around while I cook.”
“Blaine’s standing around,” Finn says, like Blaine doesn’t get an automatic free pass because he’s Kurt’s boyfriend. Sometimes he misses the point entirely, Kurt thinks.
“For one, he is very good about being where I’m not. Also, he isn’t seven feet tall.”
“Wait, should I be pleased or offended by that?” Blaine asks.
“Pleased,” Kurt tells him.
“Fine.” With one last, curious look at the rose, Finn goes back into the living room. Even his obvious confusion about it can’t dim Kurt’s joy.
“Let me get a vase,” Kurt says, reaching up into one of the high shelves for the tall cut-glass bud vase he has in mind. He has to strain up onto the very tips of his toes to get near it, and it slips away from his fingertips twice before he gets hold.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have sent Finn away so quickly,” Blaine says with a chuckle.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting him anywhere near this vase; it was my mother’s favorite.” Kurt fills it with water and uses the kitchen shears to snip off the end of the stem. When the flower is in the vase, it is even more perfectly simple and elegant. It will go in his room tonight, but for now he places it on the windowsill so that he can enjoy it while they cook. He doesn’t want it out of his sight.
“It’s really not weird?” Blaine asks softly, hopefully.
Kurt shakes his head and promises, “It’s perfect.”
Blaine smiles so warmly that Kurt just knows in the next five seconds he’s going to end up in Blaine’s arms, and they’re either going to get pulled apart by his father or they’re going to forget dinner entirely. He flicks his eyes toward the living room and then turns back to the groceries with a sigh.
“So how did your break your foot?” Kurt asks as he pulls out the leeks, trying to regain some sense of normalcy, because otherwise there’s no way they’re going to make it through the afternoon. Maybe they can go for a walk after dinner, just to have a little time together.
“Um.” Blaine ducks his head with a self-conscious laugh. “I jumped off the couch and clipped the edge of the coffee table.”
“I can see you learned your lesson,” Kurt says, more amused than he really should be by a story about his boyfriend getting injured.
“Hey, I’ve never hit a coffee table again.”
Kurt shakes his head and smiles over at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Blaine asks.
Kurt glances up at his rose on the windowsill. “Not at all,” he says.
*
Tuesdays are both a good and a bad day for Kurt. On the one hand, his schedule and Blaine’s don’t mesh up at all, so Kurt has much of the day to live his life without the blinding presence of his boyfriend. He gets to be Kurt, autonomous and not just the taller and less exuberant half of a couple. He likes himself, and he’s spent too many years standing on his own not to like an occasional reminder that he still can. So Tuesdays are good. On the other hand, he doesn’t get to see Blaine, and that makes Tuesdays far less enjoyable.
When he hears footsteps thundering up behind him on Tuesday as he walks between buildings after third period, he doesn’t think much of them. Dalton is, after all, a school full of boys; they might be wearing uniforms, but they still have far too much energy to be tamed into walking. Kurt simply moves to the side of the path and continues on.
Then hands land heavily on his shoulders, and he finds himself being spun around. He braces for impact with the gut-wrenching instinct of years of public school, but when he sees his attacker his heart leaps into his throat. It’s not because he’s going to be slushied or shoved into anything; it’s because the hands belong to Blaine.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says, a little out of breath from his run. He leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips before pulling back.
Kurt’s hand flies to his mouth, and he gapes at his boyfriend.
Laughing at whatever he sees in Kurt’s face, which is probably some embarrassing combination of shock and delight, Blaine dances backwards a few steps and says, “Got to get to class. Bye, Kurt!” And with that, he turns and runs off at full speed, leaving Kurt standing in the path as students flow around him and wondering with no little amazement how this is his life. Blaine had run all the way across campus and back just to say hello and kiss him. Him.
It isn’t until someone accidentally jostles Kurt with his backpack that he’s able to make his own feet move again. He’s so dazed that he’s not quite sure they touch the ground until he reaches his class.
*
Kurt has taken to studying in the common room during his free periods instead of the library if he has reading to do. For one, he can have a cup of coffee at his side, which makes everything in life go more smoothly. The couches are also more comfortable than the wooden library chairs. And then there’s the fact that when Blaine seeks him out, as he almost always does, they keep their voices down because they like the intimacy of it, not because they have to. It’s way better than the library in so many ways.
Blaine flops down on the couch beside him the next week, closing his eyes and rubbing the heels of his hands against them. “If I have to memorize another equation I think my brain is going to declare itself full and shut down entirely.”
Kurt sets his book on his lap and watches him with sympathy. “When’s your mid-term?”
“Tomorrow.” Blaine lowers his hands and looks over at Kurt. He smiles when his eyes focus. “Hi.”
Kurt smiles back and is proud when his skin only prickles a little at the warmth of Blaine’s gaze. He may actually be getting used to it. “Hello.”
“You know, school would be a lot more fun without tests.”
“Yes, and then it wouldn’t be school,” Kurt says. “It would be camp.”
“I liked camp. I even went back as a junior counselor one year. I got to teach swimming.” He laughs a little. “Once unexpectedly in the middle of the lake when my canoe flipped.”
Kurt imagines a curly-haired boy tipping over in a canoe, his nose sunburned and his hazel eyes full of joy, and his chest clenches a little. “Of course you did.”
“You didn’t like camp?” Blaine asks.
Kurt thinks of his own summers coming up with inspiration boards for redecorating the living room while he sat in the office at his dad’s garage between impromptu lessons in car repair. “I didn’t go to camp.”
“Oh.” Blaine doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, which is okay because Kurt doesn’t know what to say to that, but he does reach out and take Kurt’s hand, stroking his thumb over the back of Kurt’s fingers and distracting him from the topic. “What are you reading?” Blaine asks after a minute.
“Molière,” Kurt says. “I have to write an essay on it tonight.”
“I have one due Friday on Pilgrim’s Progress.” Groaning, Blaine lets his head fall back on the cushions.
There are only a few other students in the room, and they’re focused on their own work, so Kurt leans in and brushes his fingers along Blaine’s temple. “It’ll all be over by the weekend,” he reminds him softly. “We can do something nice to celebrate, if you want.”
Blaine tips his head into Kurt’s touch, and his eyes flutter shut. “If we survive.” He lets out a soft sigh.
“You’d better survive. If I’m going to be planning a spectacular date, I’ll be very upset if my boyfriend isn’t there to enjoy it with me.” Blaine’s skin is warm and smooth, and Kurt strokes the fine wisps of hair at the edge of his hairline back into place.
“We can’t have that,” Blaine says. He opens his eyes and looks up into Kurt’s with startling intensity. Kurt’s fingers still in his surprise. “But, really, Kurt, do you mind if we just do something quiet? I mean, nobody likes spectacular more than I do except maybe you, but I can’t think of what I’d look forward to more this week than having dinner with you and curling up on your couch for a movie. Just the two of us? Please?”
Kurt blinks back his shock. It’s such a simple request, but he didn’t expect it. He enjoys their time together, whatever they’re doing, but for Blaine to go out of his way to ask for some quiet time alone is quite another thing. It makes his heart feel funny in his chest, like it’s filling and growing and pressing the air out of his lungs. Blaine likes him. Kurt knows that, because they’ve been best friends for months now, but still. Blaine’s having a hard week, and what he wants to relax is some quiet time with him.
“Is that okay?” Blaine asks with some concern, and Kurt realizes he hasn’t answered. “I mean, I don’t mind going out. We can go out. Do you want to go out?”
Kurt strokes his fingertips down Blaine’s cheek and shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. We’ll stay in,” he says softly, and Blaine smiles up at him with joy, relief, and something Kurt doesn’t dare call adoration rolled into one.
*
Blaine has the longest and fullest eyelashes in the world.
Kurt knows objectively that this statement is probably not true, but if there is anyone with longer and fuller eyelashes Kurt thinks that he or she must have problems blinking from the weight of them. False eyelashes would be lost on Blaine, literally lost.
Kurt sighs to himself for being ridiculous and tries to focus on the movie, but his eyes keep being drawn back to Blaine’s face where it rests against Kurt’s shoulder. Blaine looks peaceful, his eyes closed and those long, long lashes fanning his cheeks. His breath is slow and even as it puffs across Kurt’s shirt, and Kurt’s not sure if the warmth blooming across his skin is from the exhalations themselves or just his reaction to them. He tells himself to stop being so fixated, but it doesn’t work. He looks up at the screen for approximately five seconds before he finds himself contemplating Blaine’s lashes again.
There’s not much Kurt can do but think about them... and the rest of Blaine. He can’t move. His arm is cramped, his neck is stiff, and he can’t move, because Blaine is curled up against him asleep. It is one of the most incredible things he’s ever experienced. Blaine is asleep with him, his forehead tucked against Kurt’s jaw, his hand tangled in Kurt’s shirt, and his ankle hooked around Kurt’s leg. It was nice enough just sitting together on the couch watching the movie this way, but now that Blaine’s asleep it is wonderful beyond imagining.
It’s not that Kurt thinks a sleeping Blaine is more appealing than an awake one, because Blaine while awake, though exuberant, is also happy and able to talk to, tease, and (when appropriate) make out with Kurt. A sleeping Blaine just sleeps. Sleeps and cuddles, as Kurt remembers from a few months ago, but this time Blaine’s not drunk and Kurt has no need to push him away. Instead, he feels warm and content that Blaine, who has had a long week, is comfortable enough in their relationship and in him to let his guard down and doze off. It’s hard to believe that he can make someone feel so at ease that he falls asleep.
Kurt carefully reaches out for his glass of water and takes a sip to try to keep his emotions at bay. He wants to savor every minute of this experience so that he can remember it all later. It’s another treasured memory to put away in the virtual scrapbook of Blaine in his mind. It’s already overflowing.
The movie plays on largely ignored, and a little while later Kurt’s dad walks through the room; he immediately softens his steps when he notices Blaine.
“Everything okay?” he asks Kurt with a little frown.
“It’s mid-terms this week. He was up half the night writing up his English essay,” Kurt whispers.
Burt looks between the two of them with an expression Kurt would like to categorize as puzzled but is probably more like surprised. It makes some sense; Kurt has never, ever seen Finn or his girlfriend of the moment fall asleep on the couch while they’re supposed to be watching a movie together. Then Burt shrugs and says, “Need anything?”
“No, thanks, dad. I’m great,” Kurt says with a genuine smile.
“Okay. I’ll come by a little later and see how you’re doing.” It’s less of a warning than it would have been if Blaine were awake, and Kurt is warmed by that, too, that his father sees Blaine as someone else to take care of like he does his family.
A minute or so after Kurt’s dad heads up the stairs, his feet heavy on the treads, Blaine stirs. “Hey,” he says muzzily to Kurt’s collarbone.
“Shh,” Kurt says, tightening the arm he has draped over Blaine’s back because he really isn’t ready to let the moment end.
“Was that your dad?”
Kurt strokes Blaine’s side. “Yes. Shh.”
“Is he mad?” Blaine asks.
“Why would he be mad?”
“He was mad the last time I slept here.”
Somehow refraining from pointing out that Blaine was drunk and in Kurt’s bed the last time, Kurt says, “It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m missing the movie,” Blaine replies, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise.
“It’s the age-old story of boy meets girl; they sing, they dance, they flee the Nazis.”
“But you love this movie.”
“Which is why I’m fine with saying we’ll watch it again another time.”
“Good. Okay. That’s nice. You’re nice. Really nice.” Blaine pats Kurt’s leg, snuffles a little into his neck, and falls silent once more.
By the end of the movie, Kurt’s face hurts from smiling, and it isn’t just due to the Von Trapps.
*
Blaine is insanely distracting. It’s not just that he’s filled with enough bouncing energy to fuel a small, earthquake-prone city, but even when he’s relatively still he’s distracting. Kurt’s long been a martyr to Blaine’s warm eyes, and his cheekbones, and his mouth, and his shoulders, and the line of his throat, and the shadow of his jaw at the end of the day, and the soft sound of his fingertips tapping against the desk to the beat of whatever music is running through his head, and... Yes, he’s very distracting.
Studying together has always been a bit of a challenge for Kurt, even when he knew that Blaine wasn’t interested in him. Back then he was focused on making sure his thoughts didn’t drift too far out of the boundaries of their friendship. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on Blaine’s eyelashes in person (too much) or the warmth of Blaine’s hands when they settled on his shoulders when Blaine stopped to lean down over him when he was walking by. He only noticed the line of Blaine’s back in a purely aesthetic fashion. He knew Blaine was both handsome and compelling, but he couldn’t think about it. Anything more would have led to insanity and the probable loss of the most important friendship in his life, so he learned to focus on his homework even in the face of Blaine’s distracting presence.
Now studying is a challenge in a different way, because he’s still supposed to be focusing on his work, but he’s allowed to look. He’s allowed to touch his foot to Blaine’s beneath the library table or slip a butterscotch to him when the librarians aren’t looking and then spend the next fifteen minutes feeling altogether too hot in his uniform as Blaine’s mouth purses and sucks around the candy. He’s allowed to slip his fingers through Blaine’s on the table as they read. He’s allowed, but it definitely doesn’t help with his grades or his composure. He needs to be mature, like Blaine is. Blaine can still work with Kurt there. Not every second of the day needs to be about their relationship.
So Kurt redoubles his efforts at concentrating, and he actually becomes pretty good at it. If he occasionally finds himself memorizing the exact silhouette of Blaine’s face instead of his French conjugations he snaps his attention back the second he notices. It’s still wonderful to be able to be together and to walk hand-in-hand from the library at the end of the afternoon.
And then Kurt notices something: Blaine isn’t as focused on his own work as he appears. Kurt looks up from his English reading one afternoon and finds Blaine staring at him, his eyes dark, his cheeks flushed, and his breathing ragged. Kurt somehow manages not to let his jaw drop at the hunger in Blaine’s expression, and then Blaine is ducking his head and hastily excusing himself and leaving through the front doors of the library. He returns maybe ten minutes later, largely back to his usual pulled-together self, but Kurt can’t stop thinking about it.
Kurt starts to collect these moments, the little catches of breath or the extra long stares when they’re both supposed to be working on something else. They make him flush when he thinks about them, because he knows that Blaine is attracted to him, but it’s one thing to encourage the passion in Blaine’s kisses when they’re pressed together and quite another to make Blaine lose his composure while Kurt is doing absolutely nothing at all but sitting there. It makes Kurt feel kind of fluttery in ways he can’t quite identify. He likes it. It makes him a bit uncomfortable, but he likes it.
It also makes painfully Kurt self-conscious, and for a day or two he can hardly focus on his reading because he’s constantly forcing himself not to look over at Blaine. He starts to fidget with his pen as an unconscious way to relieve some of his nerves, and as he twirls it through his fingers he hears a strangled noise from across the table. Kurt glances up and goes hot at the intense way Blaine is staring at his hand like it is the most compelling thing in the universe.
When Blaine kisses him so breathless against his car at the end of the day that his legs threaten to buckle, Kurt starts to formulate a plan.
The next day they have Warblers practice, but the day after Kurt makes sure he sits across from Blaine with his back to the room at their favorite table in the library. It’s a rainy afternoon before the dorms are open, so the library is busy but not uncomfortably so, and they have their corner to themselves. At first Kurt just reads, or tries to, because his nerves threaten to get the best of him. Is he being stupid? He’s not a flirt, he has no practice with it, but if he can’t try with his boyfriend, who is obviously already attracted, then he won’t ever be able to learn. Not that he wants to flirt with other people, but getting a reaction from Blaine could be really enjoyable.
After a few minutes, he starts to run his pen along his throat, after making sure it’s capped properly; there’s no point in ruining his uniform shirt, as basic and boring as it is. He trails it up and down, up and down, waiting, waiting, and then he hears the telltale catch of Blaine’s breath. Kurt manages not to smile, and he turns the page as he continues to skim the cap of the pen along his skin. He listens to Blaine’s breathing speed up, and then he dips the pen lower, just into his collar. Blaine makes a little noise and shifts in his seat. From the corner of his eye, Kurt can see him look down at his book, but a few seconds later he’s watching Kurt again.
Kurt drags it out a little longer, but his nerves are starting to edge in again that he’s doing something he just doesn’t know how to do, and he slips on the guise of confidence like it’s his favorite jacket. He knows how to fake it. So when he’s sure of Blaine’s attention he drops his pen onto his notebook and stretches his arms over his head like he has a crick in his back. It actually does feel good, especially when he hears Blaine choke back a sound, and he stretches back further, enjoying the pull in his muscles. He is tense, he feels so foolish and powerful all at once, and -
Blaine rockets out of his chair.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asks, still mid-stretch.
Blaine looks wild, a tempest in his eyes, and he focuses everywhere but Kurt. After a second, he swallows and settles his expression. "I need something from the stacks," he says thickly and rushes off without looking back.
Kurt stares after him, his stomach plummeting to his toes as wonders if he’s read the signs all wrong. Blaine looked upset, not hungry, not interested, and the last thing Kurt wants to do is upset him. He’s no good at this. He doesn’t even know what he was thinking, because he has a boyfriend. He doesn’t need to flirt to try to catch him. Obviously he doesn’t, because it just drove him away. It’s not like the other time; he’d looked upset. Unhappy.
Kurt allows himself ten seconds to rest his head in his hands, and then he goes after Blaine. He needs to make things right.
The library is full, but Kurt doesn’t know that many people well enough to chat with them. He asks a few Warblers here and there if they’ve seen Blaine, and soon he finds him with his forehead pressed against a rain-drenched window deep in the stacks.
Kurt steps forward slowly, watching the tense line of Blaine’s shoulders beneath his blazer and listening to the hoarseness of his breathing. He doesn’t sound okay.
Kurt’s shoes are all but silent on the carpet, and he shies away from touching Blaine without giving him some sort of warning. “Blaine?” he asks, and when Blaine jumps and spins around in shock, Kurt backs away with his hands up in front of him in apology. "Sorry. I was just worried about you. Are you okay?"
Blaine nods and says, "Yeah. I just needed to move around a little." His voice is a little unsteady.
“Too much studying, not enough furniture jumping?”
“Uh, yeah,” Blaine says, flushing and fidgeting with the sleeve of his blazer. “Something like that.”
Tilting his head, Kurt watches him for a moment. Blaine’s eyes are dark and don’t stop roving over him, and Kurt wonders if he’s been interpreting things incorrectly. He tentatively licks over his lower lip and sees Blaine’s hands clench into fists. Oh. Oh. That’s not unhappiness after all.
Kurt glances around and smirks a little to himself. He is doing this right. He walks forward and he stops just in front of Blaine. “Or did something else distract you?” He runs the tip of his finger down Blaine’s tie.
It takes a second for Blaine to catch on, and then his eyes go as wide as some of the characters in those comic books Tina likes so much. “You were doing that on purpose,” Blaine says with obvious amazement. He looks at Kurt like he’s told him the Warblers are going on tour with Pink, like it’s impossible but totally welcome.
“Doing what?” Kurt asks, not trying to feign innocence in the slightest. He grins with relief.
“You know exactly what.” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and pulls him in closer. “You were driving me crazy,” he murmurs in Kurt’s ear, and the gravel in his voice goes straight to Kurt’s groin. He shivers, helpless, and feels the urge to close the few inches still left between them.
"Was I?" Kurt tries not to sound as delighted as he feels, because it had worked. He had flirted with Blaine in an entirely new way, and it had worked. He can do this. He can really do this.
"I am going to fail my Chem quiz tomorrow because of you," Blaine tells him.
Kurt leans in, smiling. "Then maybe I should let you get back to studying. I have more to do, too," he says. Not that he’s going to be able to study now, but at least he can sit and crow silently over his success. And he hadn’t even gotten to try some of his other ideas. He tugs at his hand a little, but Blaine doesn't let go.
Instead he kisses Kurt's hand from his palm down to the cuff of his sleeve open-mouthed, and when his teeth graze Kurt’s skin his fingers instinctively curl inward. A shiver goes up his spine. "Oh, I have other things I need to do first," Blaine says. He kisses each of Kurt's fingers in turn, covering first the backs and then the tips in soft, slow presses. His mouth is warm, his lips slightly dry, and their every touch makes Kurt’s blood heat another degree. His tie is getting tighter and tighter. So are, if he is going to be honest, his pants.
"I don't think I thought this through," Kurt says weakly, because he really should have known that driving Blaine a little crazy would end up with Blaine kissing him and making him crazy. Not that it’s unwelcome, but he should have known. He swallows back the moan that threatens to escape when Blaine kisses his palm, soft and wet.
Meeting his eyes again, Blaine chuckles ruefully. "This is all I'm going to be able to think about.”
“Me, too,” Kurt admits. He glances around at the quiet library around them, with all of the people and the lack of real privacy. His heart falls at how badly he misjudged the environment for this sort of thing, because he’d really like to take advantage of Blaine’s mood. “Yeah, I really didn’t think this through.” He turns his hand in Blaine’s grip and laces their fingers together. “Sorry?” he says with a embarrassed shrug.
“No.” Blaine tugs Kurt in against him, and the press of his body and the arm he slips around Kurt’s waist makes Kurt’s pulse race. It’s not helping, but it’s still great. “No, you are not apologizing.”
That makes Kurt relax, as much as he can relax when so close to him. At least Blaine isn’t upset about the teasing, and if he’s not upset then Kurt really can’t be, not when Blaine is smiling at him with such warm eyes. “Okay.” He looks around again and judges the likelihood of someone in authority bothering them. There aren’t any tables near their aisle, and a quick glance at the spines of nearby books places them firmly in the midst of the wildly unpopular area of maritime history. The librarians are probably all busy with the glut of students in the building. He and Blaine are unlikely to be noticed, at least in the next few minutes.
“Then I’m going to do this, instead.” He dips his head to kiss Blaine, and since he doesn’t know what sort of time they have and since his nerves are still sparking with the remains of trepidation and the glow of success he doesn’t start out slowly. He kisses Blaine deeply, bringing his hand up to cup Blaine’s cheek and getting the other around him to tuck against Blaine’s lower back. His head spins at how good it feels and how readily Blaine responds.
Blaine meets him without any resistance, just enthusiasm and appreciation. He is solid as Kurt leans into him, open and ready to accept the press of his body from knee to chest. He moans softly when Kurt strokes along the line of his hair and the curve of his jaw, and he holds Kurt closer like he needs him there. There’s not a part of him that is rejecting a thing Kurt is doing, and Kurt kisses him harder with wonder and delight. Blaine gasps and then moans again more loudly when Kurt can’t stop himself from nipping at his lip.
“Shh,” Kurt says, soothing the spot with gentle, teasing kisses. “This is a library.” He can’t keep himself from smiling. He’s happy. He’s happy and proud and really turned on by it all. He kisses the corner of Blaine’s mouth, the curve of his lower lip.
Blaine’s hands jerk hard in the fabric of Kurt’s blazer. “God, Kurt, you have no idea how much I want to - " he breaks off and goes stiff in Kurt’s arms.
"What?" When Blaine doesn’t immediately answer, Kurt pulls back and looks at him, soothing him with gentle touches to his face.
"I don't know. Everything." Blaine’s eyes are desperate and vulnerable when they meet Kurt’s, and Kurt’s breath catches with the intensity of it. Blaine shakes his head a little and adds, "Not now, not all at once. But I do. God, I do. With you."
He’s so earnest and open with his desire that Kurt’s heart hurts in his chest with the joy of being wanted, and it’s either kiss him or give into the emotion threatening to choke him, and he’s so not going to pull into himself when Blaine is right there. He cups Blaine’s face in his hands and pushes him back against the bookcase probably more roughly than he should, because he just needs to kiss him. And he can.
Blaine doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s kissing back, giving everything in return, happy and hungry, and Kurt wonders how he ever got so lucky to find this freedom.
He doesn’t know how, he really doesn’t, but it makes his heart soar to have it.
*
It’s finally happening.
Kurt walks across the campus beside Blaine feeling like he’s in a dream. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and the squirrels and chipmunks are possibly performing an elaborate dance number with top hats and canes just around the corner.
He is transferring back to McKinley. He can hardly believe it. He’s wanted to go back and be where he belongs since the day he left, and now he can. He can be with his friends. He can stand out through song. He can wear his own clothes every single day. It’s wonderful. He’s getting what he wanted.
He can barely contain his grin as he clings to Blaine’s hand on their way to the day student lot. They’re walking slowly, but Kurt’s steps are as light as air. He’s going back to McKinley.
Leaving Blaine behind at Dalton is the only downside, and Kurt had been a little nervous to break the news that afternoon when he’d gotten back to school. It is a big change, after all. Blaine had looked shocked at first, which was a surprise since he’d known what Kurt had hoped for from the meeting with Dave and his father, but he’d pulled himself together and had been as supportive and wonderful as Kurt had known he would be. Kurt smiles to himself; Blaine is always supportive and wonderful.
Dating Blaine while at McKinley will be different from seeing each other every day at Dalton, but it will be okay, because it’s Blaine. Blaine, who will miss him and who even before Kurt was at Dalton made an effort to see him as much as possible. It’s going to be just fine. He knows it will. He’s sure of it.
Still, Kurt feels a pang when they turn down the path to the lot and he catches sight of his car, and he checks the time on his phone. He really should go; they’d spent far too long lying together quietly on Blaine’s bed this afternoon, just being together. But the reality of leaving hits him in a way it hasn’t before, because Blaine walking him to his car isn’t the same this time. Soon he won’t be coming back. That’s great, it’s what he wants, but it’s still different.
He looks over at Blaine, who is watching him with a calm sadness he can’t quite hide. Blaine smiles when he sees Kurt looking at him, and that automatic veneer of being okay being thrown over his other emotions makes up Kurt’s mind. This is for both of them.
“I know you’ll have to sprint to dorm dinner, and I’m going to have to dodge getting a speeding ticket as it is, but can you give me a few more minutes?” Kurt asks.
Blaine’s eyes brighten a little, and he says, “Of course.”
Dalton is lacking in useful things like benches in this part of the campus, so Kurt leads Blaine over to one of the big oak trees that line the edge of the lot. Since his uniform doesn’t have to last much longer, he sets his bag down, sinks to the ground, and pulls Blaine down with him. Once Blaine sits against the tree and Kurt curls back into him he can almost forget about the damage the roots and grass must be doing to the fabric of his pants.
Blaine settles his arms around Kurt from behind, and Kurt closes his eyes for a moment as he smiles and put his hands on top of Blaine’s on his stomach. It feels wonderful and safe, all the more because he gets to take it with him. He gets to go back to McKinley and take Blaine’s steady affection with him. It makes every horrible step that’s gotten them here, from being bullied by Dave to being exiled to Dalton to being overlooked by Blaine for so very long, completely worth it.
“Thank you,” Kurt says softly.
Blaine kisses the side of Kurt’s head and leaves his face there, his breath ruffling Kurt’s hair, as they sit without speaking. The lot is mostly empty at this time of day, so there’s nothing to disturb them but the sounds of the birds in the trees and the distant happy shouts of students playing some game on the quad before dinner. It’s the kind of peaceful moment he’ll miss having here with Blaine, but they’ll just have to make them somewhere else.
Kurt will be sorry to lose some things about Dalton - the easy acceptance of his sexuality if not necessarily his personality, the camaraderie with boys of a sort he’s never had before, the lack of garish sports-themed t-shirts being worn in class, the amazing grilled chicken sandwiches in the dining hall - but they all pale in the face of what he’ll have at McKinley. He gets to go back. Somehow thanks to Santana and Dave Karofsky, the most unlikely pair in the world, he gets to return to where he belongs.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kurt whispers.
“What?” Blaine asks. “Going back?”
“Going back. Having you. I never thought I’d - “ Kurt stops himself abruptly and shrugs. It’s too much to say. When he left, he only thought he would get safety. He never thought he’d get both Blaine and the ability to return. It had been so unthinkable he couldn’t even wish for it at the time, and he out of anyone knows how to wish for big things.
“You deserve it all and more,” Blaine murmurs warmly in his ear. Kurt can feel the rumble in Blaine’s chest through his back. “Enjoy it.”
Laughing a little, Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand. “Oh, I am. I am.” His heart has risen into his throat and is threatening to choke him with happiness. And there’s no one to pull this gift away from him here like Lucy playing football with Charlie Brown. It’s all real. He gets to have it all.
Kurt’s phone starts to play “Bust your Windows,” Mercedes’ familiar ring tone, and Kurt scrambles to answer it. Blaine’s arms tighten around him, and Kurt says over his shoulder, “Sorry. Mercedes has left me approximately twenty-seven messages and fifty texts this afternoon. Let me just -
“Hi,” he says into the phone. “Can I call you in a few from the car? I need to say goodbye to Blaine.” He absently strokes his fingers over Blaine’s as Mercedes ignores his request and asks him a thousand questions in a row about what’s happening now that he’s transferring back.
“ - and when is this happening? When?” she asks.
“I don’t know yet,” Kurt tells her. “Figgins will call my dad tonight. Soon, though.”
“Not soon enough, boy. We’ve missed you.”
Kurt can’t keep from laughing at how the excitement in her voice mirrors the feelings in his own heart. “I know. It will be good to be home.” He squeezes Blaine’s hand and gets an answering press of fingers in return. “Seriously, let me call you from the car. We can talk all about it. Blaine’s got to get to dinner.”
Blaine tightens his arm and sighs, shifting a little like he is going to get up, and Kurt knows he really does have to let him go.
“Don’t you dare,” Kurt says to Blaine over his shoulder, because Mercedes can wait two minutes for him to have a proper kiss goodbye.
“Tell me you’re going to sing when you get back,” Mercedes says. “You know we’ve missed you, and Rachel needs to be reminded she’s not the only one who can knock Broadway out of the park.”
Kurt’s breath catches at how much he wants to stand up and sing for them. It feels so right, and he’s been thinking about it since the minute he realized the transfer was actually going to happen. “Yes, I’m going to talk to Mr. Schue about it, but I know he’ll give me a few minutes at the start of practice. I can’t wait to sing for you guys.”
“I’m just saying, with the way Rachel’s been trying to dominate things around here, a little Streisand might be just what the doctor called for.”
“Mercedes, stop,” Kurt says, laughing, tugging Blaine’s arm up to hug him around his chest in his excitement. He has a perfect flash of inspiration, and he half-turns to Blaine, unable to contain the smile that threatens to overwhelm him. “I know exactly what I’m going to sing,” he tells them both.
Blaine’s answering smile is a little tight, but he presses his mouth to Kurt’s hair as Kurt finally convinces Mercedes to get off of the phone and then kisses him for a long, lush, breathless minute before they have to pull apart to go their separate ways.
“Call me tonight?” Kurt says as Blaine takes a few steps backwards but doesn’t let go of Kurt’s hand.
“Will you have time to talk?” Blaine asks. “I know you have a lot to do.” He’s obviously trying to sound supportive and understanding, but there’s a lurking unhappiness in his eyes. Kurt knows it will go away when Blaine sees how happy he is. “Phone calls to make, outfits to plan.”
“I will make time,” Kurt assures him and gets a real smile in return before Blaine glances at his watch in apology and has to run off.
Kurt talks to Mercedes the whole way home, but in his heart he is singing.
*
from Kurt:
12:05 pm - Rachel is on a roll today. I don’t know how she’s managing to chew and swallow her lunch around how fast she’s talking.
12:12 pm - I need you to settle a dispute for me with Rachel. Get your lunch and text me.
12:14 pm - You don’t have to choose my side, of course, but I think you will because you actually have a modicum of sense.
12:23 pm - This is important. I don’t care if you’re still in line to get your food. Mercedes is taking Rachel’s side now.
12:24 pm - And Santana. This is madness!
12:27 pm - Blaine?
12:28 pm - Did you forget to charge your phone again? Do I need to deputize Trent to keep on you about it now that I’m back here?
from Blaine:
2:25 pm - Sorry, sorry, sorry! I forgot my phone in my bag when I left it in the commons before lunch, and I just now was able to check it. What’s going on?
2:25 pm - And please don’t sic Trent on me. I charged my phone last night.
from Kurt:
2:27 pm - The argument is over, and Rachel is strutting around like she owns Glee Club. I am soothing myself with the memory of her being pelted with eggs.
from Blaine:
2:28 pm - That’s why I like you so much; you’re a great friend. ;) xx
Kurt laughs and types back :P xx before sliding his phone into his bag. He can’t help the smile on his face.
“I thought you were sulking,” Mercedes whispers to him, her eyes still on Rachel, who is standing at the front of the Choir Room and lecturing them about song selection criteria for Nationals. For some reason, probably because the universe is by its very nature entirely unfair, Mr. Schue isn’t stopping her.
“I’m focusing on the happier things in my life,” he tells her.
*
Nodding his thanks to the barista, Kurt picks up the drinks from the counter and turns to find someplace to sit. The Lima Bean is busy but not unpleasantly so, and he settles on a table in the middle of the room, far enough away from the registers that they won’t be bothered by the foot traffic but not so close to the windows that they’ll be blinded by the sun’s glare.
He tucks his bag beside his chair, arranges the cups, napkins, and so forth at their places, and adjusts the set of his bow tie.
Then he takes out his phone and pretends to look at it while he waits.
It shouldn’t be weird. Kurt has had coffee with Blaine in the Lima Bean more times than he can count, both as friends and now as boyfriends, and it’s never been weird, not even the first time when Kurt had felt as brittle as a caramel cage and Blaine had been a lifeline in a blazer more than a potential friend.
It shouldn’t be weird, because Kurt has arrived before Blaine before, and he’s ordered their coffee and found a table on his own a dozen times or more, choosing the seat facing the door so that he could enjoy seeing Blaine for a few candid seconds as he looked for Kurt. Even when they were just friends, Blaine had always had a flash of relief cross his face when he found Kurt across the room before his smile bloomed, like he’d been worried Kurt wouldn’t be there, and back when Kurt had had to save up moments of affection like a squirrel hoarding nuts for a long, cold winter Blaine’s happiness at seeing him - him - had been one of his favorite memories each week.
It shouldn’t be weird, because Kurt has talked to Blaine every night since he transferred, and even if he hadn’t that Blaine had showed up to serenade him on his first day back at McKinley certainly cemented the fact that Blaine is willing to go out of his way to support the change and express his enduring affection.
But this is the first time that they’ve met at the Lima Bean since Kurt’s transfer, and it is weird. It is. It feels fraught with additional tension and meaning. Instead of it being a place they go to decompress at the end of a long day at Dalton, now it’s the only place they’ll see each other today. Now it’s the middle ground, a compromise instead of a coda. Now it’s where their lives intersect instead of another place their lives are shared. That hasn’t been true for a long time, and though Kurt knows everything’s so different now he still can remember just how it felt to wait at this very table for a glimpse of Blaine’s bright smile to get him through his horrible, lonely weeks. That’s not what his life is now, it’s so far from that these days it’s like it was a lifetime ago, but his stomach still clenches with that sense memory as he sits and waits for Blaine to walk through the door.
Kurt traces a pattern on the tabletop with the tip of his finger, following the grain of the wood beneath its layers of varnish. He’s being foolish. There’s no need to be nervous. Just because the time here carries more weight again, it doesn’t mean that it is bad.
The door jingles as it opens, and Kurt glances up to see Blaine hurrying through, as handsome as always in his uniform. Blaine looks around the cafe. An elderly couple walks between them as Blaine turns in Kurt’s direction, and they’re hidden from each other for a moment. When Kurt can catch sight of Blaine again, Blaine’s shoulders are tight and his brows are drawn together with worry. Blaine’s gaze flits around the room once more, and then his whole body relaxes in an instant when he sees Kurt.
Kurt smiles automatically, and Blaine beams at him, skirting around the couple and walking right to Kurt, his eyes never leaving him.
“Hi,” Blaine says, sliding into the seat across from him. He’s still smiling, and Kurt realizes he is, too. He can’t seem to stop.
“Hello.”
“You bought me coffee.”
“It is a coffee shop,” Kurt says, taking a sip of his own drink to try to calm the fluttering in his stomach. It’s not that Blaine looks any different than he did a couple of days ago, but he’s right there. Not on the other end of the phone line, not behind a text or e-mail. His hazel eyes and broad shoulders and lovely hands are right there.
Blaine seems similarly captivated by Kurt if the way his eyes roam across Kurt’s face and over his outfit are any indication. Kurt sits quietly as Blaine takes him in, confident in his choice of outfit and in his boyfriend that the attention is a good thing. “I’ve missed you,” Blaine says after a minute.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Kurt tells him, and then he holds his hand out, Blaine’s fingers twine with his, and all of a sudden it isn’t weird at all. They can do this. He really has this. He takes a deep breath, the first he’s been able to manage since Blaine walked in the door. “So tell me about your day. No detail is too small.”
Blaine laughs a little like he’s embarrassed by the request, but he squeezes Kurt’s hand and tells him, anyway.
*
Kurt walks down the hallway the next day between Mercedes and Artie and hums to himself.
He loves being back at McKinley. Sure, the cafeteria food is awful, the classes are less interesting, and the gym is still an olfactory nightmare, but Kurt doesn’t mind because he’s home. He has his friends, he has Glee Club, and he has his full ability to express himself. He’s happy.
The only thing he doesn’t have at McKinley is Blaine, and though he thinks wistfully of being able to walk down the halls hand-in-hand at Dalton he believes in taking advantage of the time they do have together instead of just wishing for more. He’ll always want more, after all. It’s his nature. He always wants more than he has. It’s why he’s going to get out of Lima as soon as he graduates, it’s why he’s going to achieve his dreams, and it’s why he has such a great boyfriend to begin with.
But just because Kurt wants more doesn’t mean that he doesn’t appreciate what he has. He has his family. He has his friends. He has a boyfriend who cares for and supports him and shows no sign of stopping. He has love, whether or not it’s returned or just his own freely given and accepted.
Kurt turns into the Choir Room and finds that he's smiling.
When it comes down to it, despite the fact that he’ll always be striving for more, he has everything.
~end~