Fic: Parade Our Souls
Kurt is woken by Blaine throwing his arm around his waist and moaning into Kurt’s armpit. Stumbling into the bathroom and ready to play Super Boyfriend! Kurt wrinkles his nose in disgust as he is met with the acrid stench of vomit. In between dampening a washcloth and fetching the aspirin from the top draw, Kurt closes his eyes as he hears more moaning. Please, no more vomit, he silently begs.
He walks back into the bedroom to see Blaine leaning over the side of their bed and retching into the waste paper basket. Moving over to the bed, Kurt crawls up next to Blaine, wiping the cool washcloth over his neck and down his bare back, placing chaste kisses in its’ path. Sitting up, Blaine rests his forehead on Kurt’s shoulder.
“Thanks for making it to the bin, and not puking all over our bed. I would have been pissed,” Kurt jokes, moving the washcloth to Blaine’s forehead.
“Jus’ gagging. Nothin’ came up,” Blaine mumbles, gripping Kurt’s hand and lacing their fingers together.
Reaching behind him, Kurt grasps at the aspirin bottle and his half full water bottle from the previous night. Handing both items to his boyfriend, Kurt starts combing out the tangles in Blaine’s curls with his hand, quietly apologizing each time he tugged too hard. Some curls were glued together with the curl-intensifying spray that Blaine had used the night before, which Kurt thinks is a huge step up from the gel he used to use back in high school and freshman year of college. Guiding Blaine’s head down into his lap, Kurt softly massages his boyfriend’s scalp, feather-like touches to the boy’s aching head.
“Do you want to go out for breakfast, baby? We could go down to the Soy Café and have those omelets that I know you love. Or we could grab a muffin from Starbucks?” Kurt pauses, studying Blaine’s pale face. Maybe today wasn’t the day for organic omelets. “Or maybe we’ll just grab some coffee. How does that sound?”
“Mhm, just gimme a minute,” Blaine says, voice gruff in its’ hung-over state.
“Sure.” Kurt continued rubbing Blaine’s head, moving his hand’s down to the curve of his shoulders.
Blaine slowly wakes up, remembering the activities of last night. Kurt’s hands still as Blaine moves to sit up, crossing his legs and cradling his head in his hands.
“Wow. Last night sucked,” Blaine choked out, rubbing a hand across his forehead.
Giving his boyfriend a sad smile, Kurt smoothes a hand up and down Blaine’s back, rubbing the pads of his fingers over each vertebra in Blaine’s spine.
“Come on,” Kurt says as he stands, “let’s go and grab breakfast. My shout.”
They find a shady table outside of their local Starbucks, and Kurt watches from inside as Blaine closes in on himself, pushing his emotions from the previous night deep inside of him, under lock and key. Making his way out to the table, Kurt smiles as he hands Blaine his drink.
“You hungry?” he asks, waving around a brown paper bag. “I got you a bagel, something plain to help with the hangover.”
“Thanks, Kurt,” Blaine says and pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.
Sitting down across from Blaine, Kurt takes a sip of his iced mocha, smiling in satisfaction at the well made drink. Opening his own brown bag, Kurt picks the top of his apple and cinnamon muffin, taking a bite and holding out the left-over piece to Blaine.
“Want some?”
Blaine shakes his head. “No thanks, babe.”
They sit in silence, munching on their breakfast and letting their bodies absorb their morning coffees (plus an orange juice, in Blaine’s case.)
“So. We should talk about last night,” Kurt says, breaking the ice and getting started on the conversation they were both dreading.
“Last night sucked, I already told you that,” Blaine replies, voice firm.
“I know it sucked, Blaine, but we still need to talk about the fact that you’ve been keeping things from me.”
Blaine sighs, shoving one hand back into the pocket of his Dalton sweatshirt and twirling the straw around in his iced coffee. It was the truth, Blaine had been keeping things from Kurt, like his loneliness in classes and how he always felt like an outsider. Kurt had a right to know how badly Blaine was feeling.
He still had jam sessions in the music block, playing the piano while the music majors would sing and dance around, but it was the distance between Blaine and the student cohort that hurt the most. After his Friday tutorial, Blaine would hear his classmates talking about the dorm parties that were being held later that night.
The first time Blaine had heard about these seemingly exclusive dorm parties, he approached a girl from his English lit lecture and asked her if he could come.
“We know you life off-campus, Blaine. That’s why we didn’t invite you. There’s obviously a reason you’re not in the dorms and we thought we’d respect that.”
Respect my ass, Blaine had seethed as he walked home later that evening.
“They thought I still lived with my parents,” Blaine says sadly, playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt.
“Oh Blaine,” Kurt says with pity laced in his voice. “Honey, why did you keep this from me?”
“You’re the one who always gets me invited to your college parties and fashion shows, and I wanted to do the same for you. Getting turned down is more humiliating than I thought.”
“You have to do no such thing, B. I would much rather spend a night in with you, cuddling and sharing a good bottle of wine over attending a gross college party,” Kurt says while reaching over to lace their fingers together. “What does Will have to do with all of this?”
“Will is in one of my tutorials, and one day he caught me Googling the scores of a Buckeyes game. We got talking over our mutual love of football, and then I stupidly initiated the Blaine Anderson Bar-Wreck of two-thousand-fourteen. I got a text from him just after I arrived at the bar. He said he didn’t know I was gay and living with my boyfriend.”
Kurt felt his heart sink as he watched Blaine battle with his emotions. “So he just didn’t show up after he sent that text?” Blaine nods, and Kurt’s heart breaks.
“Like I said last night, Blaine, if you had called me I would have come down and watched the game with you.”
“But you hate football.”
Kurt smiled, picking up Blaine’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “But I don’t hate you.”
Kurt tucks Blaine into his side as they walked back to the apartment; one porcelain arm wrapped around Blaine’s shoulders, the other holding his second iced mocha.
“I have a bone to pick with you, mister!” Kurt scolds his boyfriend with a smirk.
“And what would that be, darling?” Blaine asks, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and interlacing his fingers. He was already feeling better after his confession to Kurt.
“Since when was it okay to take drinks from strangers? Did your parents ever tell you not to take candy from strangers? It’s the same thing!”
Looking up at his boyfriend, Blaine couldn’t help but smile. “She was fifty-five and divorced, Kurt. There was no harm in it. Plus, she never even touched the drinks - she just paid for them.”
Kurt kissed Blaine’s cheek, feeling the light stubble under his lips. “I’m so glad you told me what was going on. Never keep anything like that from me again, okay B?”
“Deal. I feel so much better already with all of that angst off my chest,” Blaine confesses, and Kurt smiles.
“Just don’t make a habit of accepting drinks from strangers, Blaine. You could end up in a messy situation.”
Blaine laughs, and takes Kurt’s iced mocha.
“Hey stranger, is that a drink for me?” He giggles.
“Maaaaaybe,” Kurt draws out, teasing. “Only if you don’t have a gorgeous boyfriend at home waiting for you.”
“Nope,” Blaine beams. “That gorgeous boyfriend is right here next to me.”
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I am now taking prompts for this 'verse over here at my journal! Feel free to head over and prompt 'til your hearts are content :)