Too In Love to Let it Go, Chapter 5
Media: Fic
Author: gingerandfair/lavender_love00
Genre: AU/future-fic/Married!Klaine
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Word count: 3781/200,000
Chapter Summary: In which life is hard sometimes, but phone sex makes everything better.
Prologue (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 1 (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 2 (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 3 ( LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 4 ( LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C)
Read Chapter 5 on AO3/Tumblr/S&C
Friday, March 10, 2023
"Hey, baby," Abby smiled, rushing toward Micah during her break between first and second period. She slowed as she saw the pained expression on his face. "What’s wrong?"
"I need to talk to you," he said quietly.
"Micah - what’s going on?" she asked, a million different scenarios playing in her head, all of them bad. She felt a sudden wave of nausea. "Are you - you’re not -"
He shook his head. "No, no, I’m not breaking up with you. Just - come here," he said, pulling her into the corner of a corridor. He let out a heavy sigh. "I got my Harvard letter."
"And?" she asked expectantly.
"And I got in - but I didn’t get the scholarship," he said sadly. "Mom and Dad aren't budging. I can’t go."
"Oh, Micah," she breathed, pulling him into an awkward hug, her ever-growing belly getting in the way. "I’m so sorry."
"No, no, don’t be," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, that’s good, right? I get to go to Columbia with you, now."
Her head tipped to one side. "But you didn’t want to come to Columbia with me, Micah."
He shrugged. "Plans change. I guess my essay just wasn’t what they were looking for."
"And there’s no way that your parents would -"
He huffed out a laugh. "Before the baby? Maybe they would have. But now - God, they’re so disappointed, Abby. My mom will hardly look at me anymore, and I overheard my dad telling her that I’m a disgrace to the Church, even though I went to confession like three months ago. I’m lucky they didn’t kick me out of the house …"
She hung her head. "I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you at home. I feel like this is my fault."
"Abby, come on. It took both of us to make this baby. I don’t - I don’t regret having sex with you," he said quietly. "Even though I said I did when I went to confession. I don’t even know if I believe that stuff or not. I just know - I love you."
She nodded rapidly, blinking away the tears that came so easily now. "I love you too, Micah. I’m so sorry about Harvard."
He shook his head. "No. It’s - it’s good, I guess. We’ll be together now. Isn’t that what you said you wanted, back in the fall?"
"Things are a little different than they were in the fall," she said, a hand on her belly.
He paused. "Yeah. They are."
"Come on," Abby told him, taking his hand after she’d run her fingers under her eyes, brushing away the tears. She’d taken to wearing waterproof mascara all the time now - no more black streaks on her face. "We’re gonna be late for French class."
* * *
Friday, March 24th, 2023
"Thanks for letting me come, Dad," Kurt gasped out, hardly able to breathe for the squeezing pressure of Burt's arms around his chest.
"Letting you come …" Burt muttered under his breath. "Kurt, when have I ever turned down a visit from you? Come on, grab your bags and let's go home."
They walked to the car and Kurt stared out the window as the familiar Ohio landscape flew past, thinking of all the trips he'd made home. There hadn't been many without Blaine after they'd moved to New York.
"So you needed a break from the empty house, huh?" Burt asked after a long silence.
"Something like that," Kurt mumbled.
"What's going on?"
Kurt sighed. "Blaine started the southern portion of his tour two days ago. He's in Charleston right now. As in South Carolina. Last night while he was talking about how charming and quaint it is, all I could think of was some idiot taking a crowbar to his ribs. It’s like his research for his first book all over again. I just - I had to get out of there. And since I had a long weekend now that Fashion Week is over …"
"I gotcha," Burt said, reaching over to pat Kurt's shoulder. "But Blaine's a grown man, he can take care of himself. And doesn't he have security at those signing things?"
"Yeah," Kurt said glumly. "But they're just mall security - I don't know how much training they've had for intense situations. I just worry, you know? I love him."
"I know you do, kiddo. So do I."
* * *
"Dinner's ready, boys." Carole's head peeked out of the kitchen into the living room where Kurt and Burt were talking, the TV on low in the background.
Burt grinned, vaulting himself up out of the chair and attaching himself to Carole's side. "What'd'ya make, honey?" he asked before planting a kiss on her cheek.
Kurt smiled to himself - misguided intentions aside, he'd never regretted setting his dad up with her. Over the years, Carole had become a second mother to him, and he loved her dearly.
"Shaved asparagus pizza - and because it's a special occasion, strawberry and rhubarb pie for dessert," she smiled.
"Sounds great," Burt smiled back, and Kurt shook his head. Never in a million years would he have believed that his dad could ever get excited about a dish with "shaved asparagus" in its name.
They pulled their chairs up to the table, which felt oddly empty without either Finn or Blaine there, and Carole poured Kurt a glass of wine.
"Now," she said, "a little birdy told me that you got to meet Matt Damon in the flesh. Don't deprive your old stepmom of all the juicy details - is he as dreamy as he looks?"
* * *
They were laughing over their pie, loose and happy with an empty bottle of wine on the table, when Kurt's phone buzzed.
From: Sexy McHotpants
Well, you were right - seems like Charleston's not quite as friendly as I thought it was :(
"Shit," Kurt whispered under his breath.
"Hey," Blaine answered on the first ring, sounding tired and sad.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Kurt asked, pushing his chair away from the table. He couldn't sit still for a conversation like this. Burt gave him a quizzical look; he held up his hand.
"Oh, I'm fine. It wasn't anything physical," Blaine said, and Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "I'd finished my reading and I was talking to some fans after the event, signing books, the normal routine. And Kurt - this adorable little girl came up to me, curly brown ringlets, big blue eyes. She couldn't have been more than about five or six. She had my book in her hand, and I couldn't help but think that maybe - that's what our baby will look like, you know?"
"Blaine?"
"Anyway, she hands me the book, and -" Blaine's voice hitched, "somebody had written 'fag' across the front in black sharpie."
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighed.
"It gets worse," Blaine continued. "That little girl pointed at me and with the most serious expression I've ever seen on a kid, she said, 'My Mommy says you're going to burn in hell.' And then she turned around and walked off."
Kurt felt a cold chill run down his spine. He walked back toward his chair at the table, grabbing the closest hand he could reach, which happened to be Carole's.
"I'm sorry - I know I shouldn't be this upset about it," Blaine said, his voice shaking.
"Blaine, it's not your fault - please don't apologize -"
"But she was just a kid - it shouldn't matter. But - that's the worst part, I think, it was just a kid, an adorable little girl who's going to be tainted forever because of the lies her parents are telling her and I just - I really wish you were here."
"Oh, Blaine, baby, so do I," Kurt murmured into the phone, his heart heavy. He gave Carole's hand a squeeze, mouthed I'll explain later to her and his dad, and walked up the stairs to his old room. He shut the door with a satisfying click, turned the lock for good measure and slumped against the wall.
"You still there?" Blaine's voice was thin.
"Always."
"Good," Blaine breathed. After a beat, his voice dropped even further. "I want to come home."
Kurt sprang into action. In less than ten seconds, he was sitting cross-legged on his old bed, the Southwest Airline website open in front of him. "Do you want to fly into Ohio or New York? If you want to go home-home, I can see about getting a flight in the morning so I can meet you …"
"Kurt, no, I didn't mean - I'm not stopping the tour because of this," Blaine said. "If I ran away just because a five-year-old told me I was going to burn, my credibility would go to hell right along with me. I just wish I could be with you right now."
Kurt sighed heavily. "I know. God - okay, actually, I might be able to find a flight to South Carolina tonight …" He clicked back a page and changed the flight itinerary.
"No. No flights. We're not wasting five hundred dollars just because I had a bad night."
"Then what do you want me to do?" Kurt snapped into the phone.
"I just -" Blaine sighed. "I need you to remind me that we're not wrong."
"What?"
"I - that came out wrong. I don't - we aren't, Kurt, don't ever think that I think that we are, but-"
Kurt sighed again. "Blaine, honey, you're not making any sense." He closed his laptop, set it on the floor and stretched out on the bed. "Let's start over. If I were with you right now, what would you need from me?"
"Well …" Blaine paused. "I was going to say I'd need you to hold me, which I still would, but - I think I'd need more than that."
"What do you mean?"
"Your hands," Blaine said.
"My hands?" Kurt lifted his left hand into the air, slowly rotating his wrist. He didn't particularly like his hands - they were worn-looking, rough from use, his knuckles already arthritic on cold mornings because of all the sewing. "What about my hands?"
"No matter how broken I am, they can always put me back together again. You put me back together again. I just - I wish I could feel you touching me, Kurt."
Oh. "And - where exactly would I be touching you?"
"Everywhere," Blaine whispered, his voice deeper than before.
Kurt sucked in a breath of air. "Blaine? Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Is this what you meant before? When you said you need me to remind you -"
"Yeah. But if you don't want to -"
Kurt chuckled. "I don't think that's the issue here. I miss you. All of me misses you."
"Kurt," Blaine whispered.
"Get in bed, honey," Kurt soothed. "Put a pillow behind your back, pretend I'm there."
Kurt heard rustling in the background. "Okay," Blaine sighed a few minutes later.
"Just relax. I'm cradling you like I do at home when you're sick. I'm rubbing circles on your stomach and kissing your shoulder and your neck. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
He waited a moment and, hearing no sound from Blaine, he continued. "You keep shifting against me and it's driving me crazy," he said, palming himself through his jeans. "I'm sliding my hand under the waistband of your pajama pants and you're hard, too. Are you hard right now, Blaine?"
Blaine inhaled sharply. "So hard."
Kurt reached down with one hand and undid the button on his own jeans, relieving the uncomfortable pressure on his cock. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes."
"It's my hand, touching you," Kurt said, shimmying his briefs down his legs, then wrapping his free hand around his cock, hard and pointing up toward his belly.
"I need to touch you, too," Blaine pleaded.
Kurt moaned, sliding his hand up and down. "You are, baby, right now."
"Kurt … feels so good …"
Kurt let his head roll back onto the pillow, listening to Blaine's soft moans and stroking himself for several long seconds.
"Blaine, do you feel safe, doing this with me over the phone?" he asked after a few moments, trying to control his breathing.
"Of course I do," Blaine gasped.
"Why is that?"
"Because I trust you. I love you, Kurt."
"You love me," Kurt grunted. "And we've been married how long?"
"Six - ahhh - six years."
"And we will be married for how long?"
"Forever."
Kurt's hand stopped - his cock was aching with want, but he needed Blaine to hear his next words.
"Then how can this possibly be wrong?" he asked as Blaine gasped in his ear. "If this - loving you, being intimate with you - is going to send me to hell? Then I will go happily, as long as you're there with me."
Kurt heard Blaine's breath stutter and catch. "Kurt," he said, his words coming out breathless and choppy, "I would go anywhere with you."
"I know. Come on, I can tell you're close," Kurt said, his hand moving down again, his cock twitching at how wrecked Blaine's voice sounded. "Pretend you're fucking me."
"Your mouth," Blaine grunted. "Fucking your mouth." Kurt groaned at those words, his hand moving faster on his own cock. "Kuuuurt," Blaine moaned one last time, then cried out. The sound nearly made Kurt come on the spot. His hips jerked off the bed into his hand as Blaine's breathing slowly returned to normal, and he gasped as quietly as he could as he came into a wad of tissues pulled from the box on his dresser.
"Oh my god, I feel sixteen again," he giggled once he'd found his voice again. "Did we really just do that?"
"We did,” Blaine said, sounding entirely blissed out. "God, where are you? Did Burt and Carole hear?”
“I’m in my bedroom,” he said. “I don’t think they heard, but I honestly don’t care if they did. As long as you feel at least a little better …”
“I do,” Blaine said, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re the best husband ever.”
"I’m aware," Kurt grinned. "Now - let me sing you to sleep?"
* * *
Kurt washed his hands and refastened his pants, the sounds of Blaine's moans still ringing in his ears. It hadn’t been good enough - if Kurt had his way, he’d be on a plane bound for South Carolina right now - but it was better than nothing. At least Blaine’s orgasm had made him sleepy. Kurt’s had just made him miss Blaine that much more.
He stormed out of his room and down the steps, not caring about the flush that bloomed high on his cheeks. Nothing could ever top the "incident" during the family beach vacation they'd taken the year they were engaged, anyway - Burt had accidentally walked in on them while Blaine was enthusiastically riding Kurt, and Kurt gasped as Blaine stopped with his hand still wrapped around his dick and rolled them both off the bed into the floor.
Kurt chuckled at the memory - he could see Blaine's face, all shock and horror and maybe just a tiny bit of amusement, but then he remembered how hurt Blaine had sounded on the phone and got angry again.
"What the hell happened?" Burt demanded as he rounded the corner.
"Some bitch conned her five-year-old into going up to Blaine, handing him one of his own books with 'fag' scrawled onto the cover of it in permanent marker and telling him that he's going to burn in hell," Kurt spat out.
Carole's hand flew up to her mouth, and a vein in Burt's neck started to stand out.
"How is he?" Carole asked.
"He’s hurt and disappointed. I’m not even surprised. I told him not to go down there. He never listens. I should be with him right now, but he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me coming," Kurt said, pacing the floor.
"Blaine’s a grown man - he can handle himself, Kurt."
"Blaine is my husband," he snarled. "Carole’s a grown woman too. She saves people’s lives for a living; I know she’s seen things more hellish than either one of us have. But if that happened to her, if somebody said something that awful to her, wouldn’t you want to be with her, too?"
Burt’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "You’ve got a point, kiddo … I'm sorry."
"It’s not your fault, Dad."He threw his hands up in the air. "What are we even doing? We want to bring a baby into this. What are we thinking?"
"Hey," Burt warned, "don't you go where I think you're going."
"Seriously, Dad, how is it fair? Our little girl is going to be taunted and teased and it'll be completely our fault. There's so much hate in the world, why would we expose her to that?"
"When have you ever focused on the hate?" Burt asked. "You always said it was more important to rise above it."
"Yeah, when it's me. I can fight back. Blaine can fight back. But a baby? She'll be defenseless - they'll call her anything they want to, they'll talk behind her back, they might even -" he cut himself off, the thought of harm coming to his child making him sick to his stomach.
"Then you teach her," Burt said, getting up in his face, "that they are wrong. That love is always stronger than hate, and that there are way more people in the world who love her than who don't."
"But Dad - on top of all of that, we don't have a clue what we're doing!" Kurt cried, frustrated. "I've never changed a diaper before in my life, and I don't think Blaine has either. I work long hours. I don't know how to interact with kids. I'm critical to a fault. What if - what if I'm the one who hurts her?"
Carole spoke up. "You would never hurt your baby," she said softly. "Not like that."
He looked at her.
"Oh, sure, she'll get mad at you over the years," she continued. "You'll hurt her feelings, you'll make her do her homework and you'll keep her from eating all the cookies in the cookie jar. But Kurt - and you have to be a parent to really understand this - you would never, ever intentionally hurt your child. You would maim anyone who does with your bare hands. Your heart, Blaine's heart - they're so, so big. Please don't give this up just because there are evil people in the world. I'm so looking forward to watching the two of you learn how to be dads."
"Listen to the woman, Kurt," Burt told him gently. "She knows what she's talking about."
"I'm scared," Kurt whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes.
"Of course you're scared," Carole said, guiding him to the couch and putting her arm around his shoulders. "You're supposed to be scared - raising kids is a scary thing. But it's also the most wonderful thing you'll ever do. I wouldn't trade having Finn, or you, or Blaine, even, for anything in this world."
He looked at Burt. "Dad?"
"You learn as you go along," he said. "I'd never changed a diaper before you were born, either. You'll be slow at first, but you get peed on the first couple times and you get faster."
Kurt chuckled, brushing the gathering tears away with his finger. "Do you really think we can do this? That we'll be … adequate parents?"
"You and Blaine are more equipped to raise a child than most of the people I know,” Burt said. “You will be fine. The two of you are smart and resourceful and you will love that baby so much, Kurt. And if there's any question about girl stuff - there's always Rachel, right?"
"Oh, god," Kurt groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can you even imagine how that conversation would go?"
Burt and Carole laughed loudly, and even Kurt cracked a smile.
"Now, you never really said," Carole said, her face turning serious. "Is Blaine alright?"
"He'll be fine - he's sleeping," Kurt said. Heat rose in his cheeks again when he thought of the reason why. "I should be with him," he repeated.
"You are," Burt said, putting his hand on Kurt's chest, "right here."
Kurt closed his own hand on top of his dad's. "Thanks," he said softly.
"Anytime, kiddo. Now, I think I need another glass of wine after all that. What about you?"
Kurt nodded, closing his eyes as Carole's arm slipped around his shoulders. If he couldn't be with Blaine, this was definitely the next best thing.
* * *
When Kurt fell into bed later, heady and sleepy from the wine, he quickly tapped out their ritual text message before falling asleep.
To: Sexy McHotpants
Goodnight, husband. I love you.
Just as the sun was rising the next morning, his own phone would buzz with a message of its own.
From: Sexy McHotpants
Good morning, husband. I love you, too.
* * *
Saturday, March 25th, 2023
"Blaine, man, you okay? I still can't believe -"
"I don't want to talk about it, Alex," Blaine said, glaring at his literary agent over the island in the continental breakfast bar of the hotel. "I want to do the stupid reading today and get the hell out of here."
"Just hang in there a little longer - we're almost done. One more week, and I'll ship you back to Kurt, I swear," Alex said apologetically.
"I know," Blaine said, sulking over to a table with a plate of rubbery sausage and runny eggs. Kurt would be appalled. He wished that Kurt was there to be appalled. He'd woken up that morning sated and grinning and rolled over to reach for Kurt, only to be disappointed. It was his hand, not Kurt's, that made him gasp and pant and moan the night before. (But, he reminded himself, it was still Kurt's voice that had soothed him into a restful sleep.)
Alex planted himself across from Blaine, opening his syrup container. "So, you still wanna tour the plantation this morning?" he asked around a mouthful of waffle.
"Not really," Blaine grumbled, running his hand through his un-gelled curls. The incident the night before left him more shaken and distrustful of South Carolinians in general than he liked to admit. "I think I'm just gonna go back upstairs and shower and then call Kurt. Maybe he can distract me with baby stuff."
"Yeah, man, how's that going?"
"Hard to say when I haven't been home since the beginning of February," Blaine answered bitterly.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Alex said, holding his hands up defensively. "Look, there's a tennis court here. I'm probably gonna go hit some balls around later. You're welcome to join if you want, just blow off some steam or something."
Blaine nodded, taking a long swig of his mediocre coffee. "I'm sorry I'm in a pissy mood this morning," he said. "It's just been a long time since somebody's done something that blatantly homophobic to me, and it struck a nerve. I was picturing our little girl at that age, and then she came out with that, and -"
"You don't have to explain. I'll have a racket waiting for you whenever you're ready. Hell, if I could, I'd have pictures of every idiot who's ever done anything to you, just so you can hit 'em right in the face, the fuckers." Blaine snorted as Alex took his empty plate to the trash.
He came back and patted Blaine's shoulder. "Look, it'll be a better day today. I'll have security amped up, okay?"
"Thanks, Alex."
Blaine pushed the fake eggs around on his plate, then got out his phone.
To: Kurt <3
I really, really, really miss you. Thanks for last night.
It buzzed almost immediately with Kurt's reply.
From: Kurt <3
The pleasure was mine ;) I can't wait for you to come home.
From: Kurt <3
Just one more week, though, and you'll be back in my arms!
To: Kurt <3
I might die before then.
From: Kurt <3
Please don't do that. I don't think I can do the single parent thing.
From: Kurt <3
Are you okay this AM?
To: Kurt <3
Not really. In a bad mood. Alex wants me to go hit tennis balls later to "blow off some steam."
From: Kurt <3
I can think of lots better ways to blow off steam than hitting tennis balls.
Blaine grinned. It was the first smile to cross his face all morning, and he wasn't the least bit surprised that it was Kurt who'd eased it out of him.
To: Kurt <3
I'll bet you can. Care to share later?
From: Kurt <3
Do you have the internet at your hotel?
To: Kurt <3
Yeah - why?
From: Kurt <3
Because, Blaine, Skype.
Blaine bit back a groan as all the blood in his body pooled in his lap, the night before still fresh on his mind.
To: Kurt <3
OH. Yes. Good.
From: Kurt <3
Yes, Blaine, good. I love you. Now go hit some balls ;)
To: Kurt <3
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
You sap.
To: Kurt <3
Don't care. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
I'm rolling my eyes right now.
To: Kurt <3
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
Goodbye, Blaine.
Blaine laughed softly to himself as he threw his trash away and headed toward the front lobby.
"May I help you, sir?" the girl at the front desk asked him.
"Yeah," he said. "Where are your tennis courts?"
Chapter 6
Author: gingerandfair/lavender_love00
Genre: AU/future-fic/Married!Klaine
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Word count: 3781/200,000
Chapter Summary: In which life is hard sometimes, but phone sex makes everything better.
Prologue (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 1 (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 2 (LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 3 ( LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C) - Chapter 4 ( LJ/AO3/Tumblr/S&C)
Read Chapter 5 on AO3/Tumblr/S&C
Friday, March 10, 2023
"Hey, baby," Abby smiled, rushing toward Micah during her break between first and second period. She slowed as she saw the pained expression on his face. "What’s wrong?"
"I need to talk to you," he said quietly.
"Micah - what’s going on?" she asked, a million different scenarios playing in her head, all of them bad. She felt a sudden wave of nausea. "Are you - you’re not -"
He shook his head. "No, no, I’m not breaking up with you. Just - come here," he said, pulling her into the corner of a corridor. He let out a heavy sigh. "I got my Harvard letter."
"And?" she asked expectantly.
"And I got in - but I didn’t get the scholarship," he said sadly. "Mom and Dad aren't budging. I can’t go."
"Oh, Micah," she breathed, pulling him into an awkward hug, her ever-growing belly getting in the way. "I’m so sorry."
"No, no, don’t be," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, that’s good, right? I get to go to Columbia with you, now."
Her head tipped to one side. "But you didn’t want to come to Columbia with me, Micah."
He shrugged. "Plans change. I guess my essay just wasn’t what they were looking for."
"And there’s no way that your parents would -"
He huffed out a laugh. "Before the baby? Maybe they would have. But now - God, they’re so disappointed, Abby. My mom will hardly look at me anymore, and I overheard my dad telling her that I’m a disgrace to the Church, even though I went to confession like three months ago. I’m lucky they didn’t kick me out of the house …"
She hung her head. "I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you at home. I feel like this is my fault."
"Abby, come on. It took both of us to make this baby. I don’t - I don’t regret having sex with you," he said quietly. "Even though I said I did when I went to confession. I don’t even know if I believe that stuff or not. I just know - I love you."
She nodded rapidly, blinking away the tears that came so easily now. "I love you too, Micah. I’m so sorry about Harvard."
He shook his head. "No. It’s - it’s good, I guess. We’ll be together now. Isn’t that what you said you wanted, back in the fall?"
"Things are a little different than they were in the fall," she said, a hand on her belly.
He paused. "Yeah. They are."
"Come on," Abby told him, taking his hand after she’d run her fingers under her eyes, brushing away the tears. She’d taken to wearing waterproof mascara all the time now - no more black streaks on her face. "We’re gonna be late for French class."
* * *
Friday, March 24th, 2023
"Thanks for letting me come, Dad," Kurt gasped out, hardly able to breathe for the squeezing pressure of Burt's arms around his chest.
"Letting you come …" Burt muttered under his breath. "Kurt, when have I ever turned down a visit from you? Come on, grab your bags and let's go home."
They walked to the car and Kurt stared out the window as the familiar Ohio landscape flew past, thinking of all the trips he'd made home. There hadn't been many without Blaine after they'd moved to New York.
"So you needed a break from the empty house, huh?" Burt asked after a long silence.
"Something like that," Kurt mumbled.
"What's going on?"
Kurt sighed. "Blaine started the southern portion of his tour two days ago. He's in Charleston right now. As in South Carolina. Last night while he was talking about how charming and quaint it is, all I could think of was some idiot taking a crowbar to his ribs. It’s like his research for his first book all over again. I just - I had to get out of there. And since I had a long weekend now that Fashion Week is over …"
"I gotcha," Burt said, reaching over to pat Kurt's shoulder. "But Blaine's a grown man, he can take care of himself. And doesn't he have security at those signing things?"
"Yeah," Kurt said glumly. "But they're just mall security - I don't know how much training they've had for intense situations. I just worry, you know? I love him."
"I know you do, kiddo. So do I."
* * *
"Dinner's ready, boys." Carole's head peeked out of the kitchen into the living room where Kurt and Burt were talking, the TV on low in the background.
Burt grinned, vaulting himself up out of the chair and attaching himself to Carole's side. "What'd'ya make, honey?" he asked before planting a kiss on her cheek.
Kurt smiled to himself - misguided intentions aside, he'd never regretted setting his dad up with her. Over the years, Carole had become a second mother to him, and he loved her dearly.
"Shaved asparagus pizza - and because it's a special occasion, strawberry and rhubarb pie for dessert," she smiled.
"Sounds great," Burt smiled back, and Kurt shook his head. Never in a million years would he have believed that his dad could ever get excited about a dish with "shaved asparagus" in its name.
They pulled their chairs up to the table, which felt oddly empty without either Finn or Blaine there, and Carole poured Kurt a glass of wine.
"Now," she said, "a little birdy told me that you got to meet Matt Damon in the flesh. Don't deprive your old stepmom of all the juicy details - is he as dreamy as he looks?"
* * *
They were laughing over their pie, loose and happy with an empty bottle of wine on the table, when Kurt's phone buzzed.
From: Sexy McHotpants
Well, you were right - seems like Charleston's not quite as friendly as I thought it was :(
"Shit," Kurt whispered under his breath.
"Hey," Blaine answered on the first ring, sounding tired and sad.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Kurt asked, pushing his chair away from the table. He couldn't sit still for a conversation like this. Burt gave him a quizzical look; he held up his hand.
"Oh, I'm fine. It wasn't anything physical," Blaine said, and Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "I'd finished my reading and I was talking to some fans after the event, signing books, the normal routine. And Kurt - this adorable little girl came up to me, curly brown ringlets, big blue eyes. She couldn't have been more than about five or six. She had my book in her hand, and I couldn't help but think that maybe - that's what our baby will look like, you know?"
"Blaine?"
"Anyway, she hands me the book, and -" Blaine's voice hitched, "somebody had written 'fag' across the front in black sharpie."
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighed.
"It gets worse," Blaine continued. "That little girl pointed at me and with the most serious expression I've ever seen on a kid, she said, 'My Mommy says you're going to burn in hell.' And then she turned around and walked off."
Kurt felt a cold chill run down his spine. He walked back toward his chair at the table, grabbing the closest hand he could reach, which happened to be Carole's.
"I'm sorry - I know I shouldn't be this upset about it," Blaine said, his voice shaking.
"Blaine, it's not your fault - please don't apologize -"
"But she was just a kid - it shouldn't matter. But - that's the worst part, I think, it was just a kid, an adorable little girl who's going to be tainted forever because of the lies her parents are telling her and I just - I really wish you were here."
"Oh, Blaine, baby, so do I," Kurt murmured into the phone, his heart heavy. He gave Carole's hand a squeeze, mouthed I'll explain later to her and his dad, and walked up the stairs to his old room. He shut the door with a satisfying click, turned the lock for good measure and slumped against the wall.
"You still there?" Blaine's voice was thin.
"Always."
"Good," Blaine breathed. After a beat, his voice dropped even further. "I want to come home."
Kurt sprang into action. In less than ten seconds, he was sitting cross-legged on his old bed, the Southwest Airline website open in front of him. "Do you want to fly into Ohio or New York? If you want to go home-home, I can see about getting a flight in the morning so I can meet you …"
"Kurt, no, I didn't mean - I'm not stopping the tour because of this," Blaine said. "If I ran away just because a five-year-old told me I was going to burn, my credibility would go to hell right along with me. I just wish I could be with you right now."
Kurt sighed heavily. "I know. God - okay, actually, I might be able to find a flight to South Carolina tonight …" He clicked back a page and changed the flight itinerary.
"No. No flights. We're not wasting five hundred dollars just because I had a bad night."
"Then what do you want me to do?" Kurt snapped into the phone.
"I just -" Blaine sighed. "I need you to remind me that we're not wrong."
"What?"
"I - that came out wrong. I don't - we aren't, Kurt, don't ever think that I think that we are, but-"
Kurt sighed again. "Blaine, honey, you're not making any sense." He closed his laptop, set it on the floor and stretched out on the bed. "Let's start over. If I were with you right now, what would you need from me?"
"Well …" Blaine paused. "I was going to say I'd need you to hold me, which I still would, but - I think I'd need more than that."
"What do you mean?"
"Your hands," Blaine said.
"My hands?" Kurt lifted his left hand into the air, slowly rotating his wrist. He didn't particularly like his hands - they were worn-looking, rough from use, his knuckles already arthritic on cold mornings because of all the sewing. "What about my hands?"
"No matter how broken I am, they can always put me back together again. You put me back together again. I just - I wish I could feel you touching me, Kurt."
Oh. "And - where exactly would I be touching you?"
"Everywhere," Blaine whispered, his voice deeper than before.
Kurt sucked in a breath of air. "Blaine? Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Is this what you meant before? When you said you need me to remind you -"
"Yeah. But if you don't want to -"
Kurt chuckled. "I don't think that's the issue here. I miss you. All of me misses you."
"Kurt," Blaine whispered.
"Get in bed, honey," Kurt soothed. "Put a pillow behind your back, pretend I'm there."
Kurt heard rustling in the background. "Okay," Blaine sighed a few minutes later.
"Just relax. I'm cradling you like I do at home when you're sick. I'm rubbing circles on your stomach and kissing your shoulder and your neck. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
He waited a moment and, hearing no sound from Blaine, he continued. "You keep shifting against me and it's driving me crazy," he said, palming himself through his jeans. "I'm sliding my hand under the waistband of your pajama pants and you're hard, too. Are you hard right now, Blaine?"
Blaine inhaled sharply. "So hard."
Kurt reached down with one hand and undid the button on his own jeans, relieving the uncomfortable pressure on his cock. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes."
"It's my hand, touching you," Kurt said, shimmying his briefs down his legs, then wrapping his free hand around his cock, hard and pointing up toward his belly.
"I need to touch you, too," Blaine pleaded.
Kurt moaned, sliding his hand up and down. "You are, baby, right now."
"Kurt … feels so good …"
Kurt let his head roll back onto the pillow, listening to Blaine's soft moans and stroking himself for several long seconds.
"Blaine, do you feel safe, doing this with me over the phone?" he asked after a few moments, trying to control his breathing.
"Of course I do," Blaine gasped.
"Why is that?"
"Because I trust you. I love you, Kurt."
"You love me," Kurt grunted. "And we've been married how long?"
"Six - ahhh - six years."
"And we will be married for how long?"
"Forever."
Kurt's hand stopped - his cock was aching with want, but he needed Blaine to hear his next words.
"Then how can this possibly be wrong?" he asked as Blaine gasped in his ear. "If this - loving you, being intimate with you - is going to send me to hell? Then I will go happily, as long as you're there with me."
Kurt heard Blaine's breath stutter and catch. "Kurt," he said, his words coming out breathless and choppy, "I would go anywhere with you."
"I know. Come on, I can tell you're close," Kurt said, his hand moving down again, his cock twitching at how wrecked Blaine's voice sounded. "Pretend you're fucking me."
"Your mouth," Blaine grunted. "Fucking your mouth." Kurt groaned at those words, his hand moving faster on his own cock. "Kuuuurt," Blaine moaned one last time, then cried out. The sound nearly made Kurt come on the spot. His hips jerked off the bed into his hand as Blaine's breathing slowly returned to normal, and he gasped as quietly as he could as he came into a wad of tissues pulled from the box on his dresser.
"Oh my god, I feel sixteen again," he giggled once he'd found his voice again. "Did we really just do that?"
"We did,” Blaine said, sounding entirely blissed out. "God, where are you? Did Burt and Carole hear?”
“I’m in my bedroom,” he said. “I don’t think they heard, but I honestly don’t care if they did. As long as you feel at least a little better …”
“I do,” Blaine said, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re the best husband ever.”
"I’m aware," Kurt grinned. "Now - let me sing you to sleep?"
* * *
Kurt washed his hands and refastened his pants, the sounds of Blaine's moans still ringing in his ears. It hadn’t been good enough - if Kurt had his way, he’d be on a plane bound for South Carolina right now - but it was better than nothing. At least Blaine’s orgasm had made him sleepy. Kurt’s had just made him miss Blaine that much more.
He stormed out of his room and down the steps, not caring about the flush that bloomed high on his cheeks. Nothing could ever top the "incident" during the family beach vacation they'd taken the year they were engaged, anyway - Burt had accidentally walked in on them while Blaine was enthusiastically riding Kurt, and Kurt gasped as Blaine stopped with his hand still wrapped around his dick and rolled them both off the bed into the floor.
Kurt chuckled at the memory - he could see Blaine's face, all shock and horror and maybe just a tiny bit of amusement, but then he remembered how hurt Blaine had sounded on the phone and got angry again.
"What the hell happened?" Burt demanded as he rounded the corner.
"Some bitch conned her five-year-old into going up to Blaine, handing him one of his own books with 'fag' scrawled onto the cover of it in permanent marker and telling him that he's going to burn in hell," Kurt spat out.
Carole's hand flew up to her mouth, and a vein in Burt's neck started to stand out.
"How is he?" Carole asked.
"He’s hurt and disappointed. I’m not even surprised. I told him not to go down there. He never listens. I should be with him right now, but he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me coming," Kurt said, pacing the floor.
"Blaine’s a grown man - he can handle himself, Kurt."
"Blaine is my husband," he snarled. "Carole’s a grown woman too. She saves people’s lives for a living; I know she’s seen things more hellish than either one of us have. But if that happened to her, if somebody said something that awful to her, wouldn’t you want to be with her, too?"
Burt’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "You’ve got a point, kiddo … I'm sorry."
"It’s not your fault, Dad."He threw his hands up in the air. "What are we even doing? We want to bring a baby into this. What are we thinking?"
"Hey," Burt warned, "don't you go where I think you're going."
"Seriously, Dad, how is it fair? Our little girl is going to be taunted and teased and it'll be completely our fault. There's so much hate in the world, why would we expose her to that?"
"When have you ever focused on the hate?" Burt asked. "You always said it was more important to rise above it."
"Yeah, when it's me. I can fight back. Blaine can fight back. But a baby? She'll be defenseless - they'll call her anything they want to, they'll talk behind her back, they might even -" he cut himself off, the thought of harm coming to his child making him sick to his stomach.
"Then you teach her," Burt said, getting up in his face, "that they are wrong. That love is always stronger than hate, and that there are way more people in the world who love her than who don't."
"But Dad - on top of all of that, we don't have a clue what we're doing!" Kurt cried, frustrated. "I've never changed a diaper before in my life, and I don't think Blaine has either. I work long hours. I don't know how to interact with kids. I'm critical to a fault. What if - what if I'm the one who hurts her?"
Carole spoke up. "You would never hurt your baby," she said softly. "Not like that."
He looked at her.
"Oh, sure, she'll get mad at you over the years," she continued. "You'll hurt her feelings, you'll make her do her homework and you'll keep her from eating all the cookies in the cookie jar. But Kurt - and you have to be a parent to really understand this - you would never, ever intentionally hurt your child. You would maim anyone who does with your bare hands. Your heart, Blaine's heart - they're so, so big. Please don't give this up just because there are evil people in the world. I'm so looking forward to watching the two of you learn how to be dads."
"Listen to the woman, Kurt," Burt told him gently. "She knows what she's talking about."
"I'm scared," Kurt whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes.
"Of course you're scared," Carole said, guiding him to the couch and putting her arm around his shoulders. "You're supposed to be scared - raising kids is a scary thing. But it's also the most wonderful thing you'll ever do. I wouldn't trade having Finn, or you, or Blaine, even, for anything in this world."
He looked at Burt. "Dad?"
"You learn as you go along," he said. "I'd never changed a diaper before you were born, either. You'll be slow at first, but you get peed on the first couple times and you get faster."
Kurt chuckled, brushing the gathering tears away with his finger. "Do you really think we can do this? That we'll be … adequate parents?"
"You and Blaine are more equipped to raise a child than most of the people I know,” Burt said. “You will be fine. The two of you are smart and resourceful and you will love that baby so much, Kurt. And if there's any question about girl stuff - there's always Rachel, right?"
"Oh, god," Kurt groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can you even imagine how that conversation would go?"
Burt and Carole laughed loudly, and even Kurt cracked a smile.
"Now, you never really said," Carole said, her face turning serious. "Is Blaine alright?"
"He'll be fine - he's sleeping," Kurt said. Heat rose in his cheeks again when he thought of the reason why. "I should be with him," he repeated.
"You are," Burt said, putting his hand on Kurt's chest, "right here."
Kurt closed his own hand on top of his dad's. "Thanks," he said softly.
"Anytime, kiddo. Now, I think I need another glass of wine after all that. What about you?"
Kurt nodded, closing his eyes as Carole's arm slipped around his shoulders. If he couldn't be with Blaine, this was definitely the next best thing.
* * *
When Kurt fell into bed later, heady and sleepy from the wine, he quickly tapped out their ritual text message before falling asleep.
To: Sexy McHotpants
Goodnight, husband. I love you.
Just as the sun was rising the next morning, his own phone would buzz with a message of its own.
From: Sexy McHotpants
Good morning, husband. I love you, too.
* * *
Saturday, March 25th, 2023
"Blaine, man, you okay? I still can't believe -"
"I don't want to talk about it, Alex," Blaine said, glaring at his literary agent over the island in the continental breakfast bar of the hotel. "I want to do the stupid reading today and get the hell out of here."
"Just hang in there a little longer - we're almost done. One more week, and I'll ship you back to Kurt, I swear," Alex said apologetically.
"I know," Blaine said, sulking over to a table with a plate of rubbery sausage and runny eggs. Kurt would be appalled. He wished that Kurt was there to be appalled. He'd woken up that morning sated and grinning and rolled over to reach for Kurt, only to be disappointed. It was his hand, not Kurt's, that made him gasp and pant and moan the night before. (But, he reminded himself, it was still Kurt's voice that had soothed him into a restful sleep.)
Alex planted himself across from Blaine, opening his syrup container. "So, you still wanna tour the plantation this morning?" he asked around a mouthful of waffle.
"Not really," Blaine grumbled, running his hand through his un-gelled curls. The incident the night before left him more shaken and distrustful of South Carolinians in general than he liked to admit. "I think I'm just gonna go back upstairs and shower and then call Kurt. Maybe he can distract me with baby stuff."
"Yeah, man, how's that going?"
"Hard to say when I haven't been home since the beginning of February," Blaine answered bitterly.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Alex said, holding his hands up defensively. "Look, there's a tennis court here. I'm probably gonna go hit some balls around later. You're welcome to join if you want, just blow off some steam or something."
Blaine nodded, taking a long swig of his mediocre coffee. "I'm sorry I'm in a pissy mood this morning," he said. "It's just been a long time since somebody's done something that blatantly homophobic to me, and it struck a nerve. I was picturing our little girl at that age, and then she came out with that, and -"
"You don't have to explain. I'll have a racket waiting for you whenever you're ready. Hell, if I could, I'd have pictures of every idiot who's ever done anything to you, just so you can hit 'em right in the face, the fuckers." Blaine snorted as Alex took his empty plate to the trash.
He came back and patted Blaine's shoulder. "Look, it'll be a better day today. I'll have security amped up, okay?"
"Thanks, Alex."
Blaine pushed the fake eggs around on his plate, then got out his phone.
To: Kurt <3
I really, really, really miss you. Thanks for last night.
It buzzed almost immediately with Kurt's reply.
From: Kurt <3
The pleasure was mine ;) I can't wait for you to come home.
From: Kurt <3
Just one more week, though, and you'll be back in my arms!
To: Kurt <3
I might die before then.
From: Kurt <3
Please don't do that. I don't think I can do the single parent thing.
From: Kurt <3
Are you okay this AM?
To: Kurt <3
Not really. In a bad mood. Alex wants me to go hit tennis balls later to "blow off some steam."
From: Kurt <3
I can think of lots better ways to blow off steam than hitting tennis balls.
Blaine grinned. It was the first smile to cross his face all morning, and he wasn't the least bit surprised that it was Kurt who'd eased it out of him.
To: Kurt <3
I'll bet you can. Care to share later?
From: Kurt <3
Do you have the internet at your hotel?
To: Kurt <3
Yeah - why?
From: Kurt <3
Because, Blaine, Skype.
Blaine bit back a groan as all the blood in his body pooled in his lap, the night before still fresh on his mind.
To: Kurt <3
OH. Yes. Good.
From: Kurt <3
Yes, Blaine, good. I love you. Now go hit some balls ;)
To: Kurt <3
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
You sap.
To: Kurt <3
Don't care. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
I'm rolling my eyes right now.
To: Kurt <3
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
From: Kurt <3
Goodbye, Blaine.
Blaine laughed softly to himself as he threw his trash away and headed toward the front lobby.
"May I help you, sir?" the girl at the front desk asked him.
"Yeah," he said. "Where are your tennis courts?"
Chapter 6