Always Trust a Cat in a Bow-Tie - 3/3 (Part 2)
Continued from HERE
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Oh my God…he just…he said…
Yes! He wants me, he feels the same and-yes!
I love him, Maiden, Mother and Crone, God, Buddha, Noodle Monster, I love him so much…how can I…?
He’ll see-he’s seen so much already and he’s so amazing he’ll see-
(Please see, Kurt, please see that I’m the same as you, that I want you and this just as much)
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Kurt’s voice was little above a whisper as he trailed off, emotionally exhausted but light and full of hope; when Blaine let out a strangled sounding meow, his eyes blinking up gold and green at him with so much emotion and-love was there. Kurt wasn’t sure how he ever missed it before, but there it was, plain for him to see. Kurt laughed, bright and clear, and squeezed Blaine’s paw, bowing forward slightly; full-on gentleman pose because he knew Blaine would’ve done the same if he could. “So, Blaine Warbler, would you go to prom with me?”
Blaine’s nose crinkled as if he was trying to laugh but couldn’t and his head bobbed yes. He was still a cat, still not human and a proper date for a prom, but Kurt could feel something stirring in the air around them, something important, and he knew that telling Blaine had been exactly what he needed to do. He laughed and wiped at his eyes with his free hand; he hadn’t even noticed that he had tears in them until now because he just felt so happy.
But then-something dark passed overhead and Kurt felt a chill in the wind that was supposed to be absent during May in Ohio. Blaine tensed and he looked up before snatching back his paw and hopping off the bench, tail whipping back and forth again; the hairs on his back raised tellingly; he flattened his ears and Kurt felt the happiness start to fizzle into worry. “Blaine?”
Blaine turned and hissed at Kurt; he didn’t need translation for that. It was a very clear stay back or stay here; Kurt narrowed his eyes and pushed off the bench. “Don’t you dare hiss at me, Blaine Anderson. If you think I’m going to just sit here while you head out into the street to see what’s going on, you’re supremely mistaken.”
Blaine growled deep in his throat, this time more of an angry plea, but Kurt ignored him and strode straight out of their corner and back onto the street; Blaine spat and hissed after him but didn’t try to stop him. There really was only so much he could do as a cat. The street was darker than it should be for the late afternoon; Kurt glanced overhead and saw there were angry, gray clouds covering the sunny day. This wasn’t a freak weather storm, Kurt knew that instinctively. This was magic, the bad sort; he felt another chill down his spine from the wind and glanced down at Blaine, who was the very picture of an extremely angry cat. Kurt glanced towards Rosie’s and saw that there wasn’t a door to the shop-Rosie was looking out from her window and her face was white. Kurt hurried up a little to Annabelle’s store and saw it was the same, no door, her face staring at them fearfully through her window. She was pounding and trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear her.
A look up and down the street, which was empty of cars, including his own Navigator, told him that all the doors were gone; he felt something deep in his stomach and his breath caught in his throat. “Blaine? What’s going on?”
“Well, for someone who knows what magic is now, you’re not doing a very good job of recognizing it.” Kurt whirled around and spotted a woman a few feet from them on the street. She was dressed in black, but not enough to make her too much of a caricature villain, and had similar facial features to Annabelle, along with her dark, curly hair. She was pretty, but her smile ruined everything-it was what Santana’s smile would look like if she didn’t have a soul and it contorted her face ugly. He knew who she was without needing to ask.
“You’re his Aunt Morgan.” She canted her head forward mockingly and Blaine hissed from beside him.
“Morgana, but close. Tell me, was it the hair that gave it away? It’s a Sanders trait.”
“What do you want?” Kurt wished he had some sort of weapon other than his keys-what good was it practicing sais if he didn’t have them when it counted?
“Such a loaded question.” She clasped her hands in front of her and casually strolled a little closer towards them. Kurt took a step back instinctively and kicked out his leg to keep Blaine from charging in front (a method that was effective for only one try though; cats were slippery buggers). “I want a lot of things, but mostly, in this moment, I really just don’t want my traitor of a sister to come back-and the only way to guarantee that is to make sure lover-kitty here doesn’t break his curse. Unfortunately, that means bad things for you, Legolas.”
Did everyone have to insult him using elf terms? Kurt only had a second to think that before a stream of gray, slightly sparking color rushed towards him-Kurt’s eyes widened and Blaine hissed so loudly it was almost a scream. He crouched down, throwing up his hands and cursing himself for being so stupid and careless. However, nothing but cool air touched his skin; he looked up and noticed Morgana was frowning, looking at her hands as if they were foreign to her. Kurt took a deep breath and shakily got back to his feet; he felt something poke at his chest as he did and then he remembered. He opened his jacket just enough for a peek of white to come through-the snowdrop flower he had pinned to his coat. He snapped his eyes back up and Morgana was staring at him; she must’ve noticed the glass flower too.
“I guess it really does protect from spells.” Morgana’s frown deepened and she sent another blast of smoky gray sparks at him; the result was the same. Kurt took another deep breath and felt the fear from before start to slip away. “You should really just leave, and take you trailing cobwebs with you-seriously, who told you it was a good idea to rip up gauze, spray paint it gray, and pin it to the outside of your coat?”
Morgana’s face darkened a little bit more and then she turned her hand away and started murmuring something that sounded like Latin a little. From her finger grew a sword, double-bladed and curving high at each end in opposite directions; Kurt felt fear start to trickle back in because while he was pretty confident the snowdrop would protect against spells directed at him, he was also just as sure that it would not protect him from being shish-kebabed. She noticed his face and gave a heartless chuckle. “I’m really not the sort to get my hands dirty, but I do admit, I don’t mind it from time to time. And I think I’ll especially like getting a little dirty with you, darlin’.”
She rushed at him and Kurt hurriedly rolled to out of the way, putting his Cheerio training to good use, popping right back to his feet while he watched Morgana struggle to lift the blade back up. She whispered another word against the hilt of the sword and a shimmer passed over the blade; she smirked and twirled it up and over her head without any problem after that. Kurt stared for a second before she rushed him again; he dodged the same way and then tumble-rolled to his feet as she followed close behind. He looked around, a little panicked, and tried to find something he could use to fight back with-sadly, all he saw was a single trashcan bolted to the ground. She swung high and he dodged again, twirling out of the way faster than she could swing, but she expected the dodge that time and broadsided him with the hilt across his ribs. He heard them crack and he rolled to the ground, clutching them with a pained moan. The sword may have been weightless to her, but it still felt like a sledgehammer hitting to him.
He glanced up and felt his heart drop as she came at him again, but this time, she was halted by a flash of white that darted in front of her and started biting and scratching her leg. She cried out and dropped the sword; Kurt could see droplets of blood falling from where Blaine was attacking her leg and knee. She let out a particularly painful yelp and reached down to try and tear Blaine away; she eventually was successful, having opposing thumbs does help out in a fight, and tossed Blaine away. Kurt felt something cold settle in his chest when he landed with a sickening thump. He didn’t move from where he fell and Kurt felt angry, harsh tears build up in his throat and eyes.
“Blaine! No…no no no, get up.”
“Little brat, should’ve been a declawed bastard.” Kurt swung his eyes up to stare at her, watching her inspect her torn leg and not caring that she’d-that she’d just-Blaine still wasn’t moving and-
“Why are you doing this?” Kurt choked out from where he was curled up on the ground, cradling his ribs which had to be broken. “He never did anything to you so why are you doing this?”
“Oh, he did something to me all right. He was born!” She picked up the sword from where it she’d dropped it and started back towards Kurt, her eyes the same pretty hazel color Blaine’s and Annabelle’s were, but they looked wrong in her face. “Do you know what kind of lineage my sisters and I came from? Ancient! An ancient lineage that ensured magic was passed down from generation to generation through the power of three sisters. We all knew that and Helena knew that too! And what does she do? She marries some yuppie with a law degree because she ‘loves’ him and then ignores me, starts thinking that I’m dark and misusing our gift! Then, she convinces Annie of the same and suddenly I’m not welcome to their little witching hour pow-wows…and then she had him.”
She pointed at Blaine’s still unmoving form from where she had settled right over Kurt, sword in hand but not raised; Kurt could see his reflection in the double blades. “She had a boy, not a girl! She betrayed our entire ancestry all because her yuppie husband wanted a son! Though, he got a gay son so I guess jokes on him, isn’t it? She deserves to be locked away in limbo, stuck there with her precious husband, watching her spawn live stuck as a cat-that’s why, darlin’. Aren’t you happy you got to ask that as your last words”
Kurt wished in that moment, as she tipped an imaginary hat at him and raised the sword, that he’d said goodbye or something to his dad, to Carole, Finn, and all of New Directions too. He wished that Rosie and Annabelle and anyone else stuck in their shops didn’t have to watch this because he knew they were likely besides themselves. He wished that Blaine would get up after this was all done. He didn’t wish for his own life because that seemed pointless and selfish, but he wanted Blaine to live, he wanted him to be human again someday and-he watched the sword come down and started to close his eyes.
Then-there was Blaine again, somehow up and moving and-and he was jumping right into the swords path, his neck replacing the empty space between Kurt and the blade. Kurt screamed at him but then, all he could see was white fur, red, bright light and hear Morgana’s outraged scream.
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Here’s the thing about stories. They build and they build so that when we finally reach the top, it’s like we can finally see what all the building and heartbreak and hurt was for.
Sometimes, it’s hard to decide if it was worth it or not.
But other times, it’s as if you’re finding someone for the first time, whether it’s on a staircase or mourning a dead bird (both equally valid ways this story could have happened) and all you can think to say is-
Oh, there you are.
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When Kurt could see again, he was expecting to find parts of Blaine’s body covering him-it had partly been why he hadn’t wanted to open his eyes. Tears were biting behind his lids and sobs were catching in his throat, but still, he had to know. He opened his eyes, still curled up tight on the asphalt, and while he spotted quite a lot of white fur all around, there wasn’t any blood, or heads, or anything else he expected to find when he jumped in between Kurt’s body and a falling sword. He blinked and pushed himself up with a wince and saw that all around him was white fur; then he looked up and saw, standing in front of him, the sword in his hand, was a young man with curly black hair that was shorter than Kurt had imagined. He stared and rubbed at his eyes in case he was hallucinating, but there he was, human as ever.
“Blaine?”
“Kurt, can you do me a favor?” Sweet noodle monster in the sky, his voice-Kurt could never have imagined a voice that gorgeous if he tried. “Can you give me the glass flower for a minute?”
Kurt nodded, not really aware that Blaine couldn’t see, and reached into his coat lapel, grabbing the tiny flower from where he’d pinned it (he’d made a brooch out of it…it looked much better that way). He cleared his throat and lifted it up, feeling his ribs twinge sharply as he did so; Blaine reached back and grabbed it without taking his eyes off the woman Kurt could see was writing in front of him. Morgana-she looked like she was in a lot of pain but Kurt didn’t know why. “Why is she-?”
“She’s feeling a little magical whiplash-now, let’s see, um-” Blaine started to chant something that sounded like leaves and mist, deep and colorful but still a bit whimsy, and then there was a bright light shooting from the flower and cocooning around Morgana. She went completely still and looked to be in a deep sleep. Blaine let out a triumphant sound and Kurt watched as the dark weather and clouds cleared away and cars reappeared along with doors down the storefronts. “I can’t believe that worked-I guess studying all those moldy smelling scrolls actually did-Kurt! Are you ok?”
And just like that, there he was, kneeling down in the road and eye level with Kurt, who was staring and drinking in everything he saw. Blaine wasn’t just handsome or attractive-he was blazing. His hair was a mess of short curls on top of his head and his skin was a bright olive color; he had a strong jaw, big, firm hands, and the kind of face that 1950s movie actors would’ve killed for. His eyes were the same, but they were brighter in his true face-Kurt couldn’t even talk about his mouth, or the hints of the smile and blush that was starting to form the longer Kurt looked. He was so incredibly everything and Kurt couldn’t even begin-he loved this man, this amazing, selfless, brave man. And, around his neck, was Kurt’s blue and yellow canary bow-tie, completely out of place yet still wonderful against the white pants and shirt Blaine was wearing.
“Kurt? Are you ok? I mean, of course you’re not ok, you were just in a death match with my crazy aunt and you’re clutching your ribs but-your just sort of staring.”
“I love you.” Blaine blinked at him and then Kurt was gathered up tight, almost tight enough to hurt his ribs but not enough for him to want it to end, Blaine’s face buried into his neck and his hands holding him as if he was afraid Kurt would slip away. Kurt couldn’t really move his arms, and he doubted he could with his ribs anyway, but he rested his hands against Blaine’s heart and just felt the heartbeat, let it ba-dump ba-dump against his lifeline until it really sunk in that this was Blaine and he was here. “I love you and you jumped in front of that freaking sword! Why would you-”
“The curse-it was because of the curse.” Blaine pulled away enough so that their eyes could meet. He looked dazed as he stared at Kurt’s eyes, as if he was trying to put a name to something and memorize it at the same time. “Three good deeds, important ones-I figured saving you was a good deed enough to do the trick. Your eyes they’re-I couldn’t tell before and now just-I love you too, I have for a long time. Kurt, you saved me and you-I have so much I want to tell you and I can’t even find the right thing to say and-”
“I know the feeling.” Kurt smiled and hiccupped around a happy sob, one born from stress and fear and relief. “You saved me too.”
They stared at each other for a few more silent heartbeats and then, almost in tune, leaned in together until their lips were pressing together (Kurt first and then Blaine, almost as if he was waiting for Kurt to have his own terms this time which made his heart fall just a little more). This was what Kurt had always imagined what a kiss that meant something was supposed to feel like: the warm, comforting slide of Blaine’s lips against his, the slightly odd taste in his mouth that could be catnip but Kurt didn’t care, the whoosh of his breath as it streamed through his nose so they didn’t have to break apart. Blaine was tentative, as if he had never done this before (and probably never had), but so was Kurt and soon enough they were pressing bolder, sliding quicker, and moving hands all over until Blaine’s hands pressed a little too hard on his ribs. Kurt winced and pulled away, Blaine’s lips chasing them down and murmuring apologies into his skin as he moved his hand.
They kissed and kissed and kept on kissing, even growing daring enough to open their mouths and brush tongues a few times, until a voice from above them cleared her throat tellingly. Blaine and Kurt broke apart and looked up as one, smiling up at the relieved and half-amazed looks from Annabelle and Rosie. Blaine pushed himself to his feet, carefully helped Kurt up, and then wrapped his aunt up in a hug; Kurt watched how her face melted down into messy tears and he felt even lighter. Rosie came up beside him to help him keep balance, her face looking like she had just seen the return of Elvis.
“So, Blaine was really a kid, huh?”
“Kind of hard to believe I know-” Kurt started.
“Nah, not really. He was way too smart to be a cat-boy should work on his acting chops a little. I’m going to call your daddy, all right? I think you need to see a doctor you and your boy there have got a few things to explain to him.” Kurt nodded and Rosie winked at him as she sat him down on a street side bench before heading back to her shop.
Blaine let go of his aunt and looked back to make sure Kurt was still near; he smiled open and happy and hurried over to sit down beside Kurt again. Kurt took his hand and curled his fingers together with Blaine’s. He sighed and rested his head down against Blaine’s shoulder. “What happened to your aunt? Morgana?”
“Call her Morgan, Kurt. She doesn’t deserve any extra credit beyond that.” Annabelle came over and leaned against the bench’s iron handrail. “Blaine here used a handy charm with that glass flower and reversed it against my sister. The snowdrop does bring luck and protection, but it’s also a vessel of a sort-it collects hope, no matter how small or frail. Blaine used a reversal charm that essentially shot out all of the hope that little flower has been storing up in your coat pocket straight at her while she was going through a few years worth of magical back pay. Funny thing about magic-it always catches up to you eventually. Likes taxes really. But, anyway, she’s taking a little nap-I’m hoping one long enough for her to wake up an old hag. I can take her to our mother’s home, I’m sure she’ll be willing to baby-sit her.”
“I actually have a lot of questions but-I’m too tired right now.” Kurt grinned a little sheepishly. ‘But I do want to know-are Blaine’s parents all right?”
Blaine stared down at him, a mixture of wonder and amazement before he turned big, hopeful eyes up at his aunt. “Are they ok? Are they mad?”
Annabelle smiled and wrapped an arm around Blaine’s shoulders in a quick, familial hug. “Well, judging by the ecstatic phone call I received from your mother about twenty minutes ago letting me know how proud of you she and your dad were and that they were driving over to my store immediately from Westerville, I’d say pretty ok.”
Blaine let out a shuddering breath and Kurt tightened his hand around Blaine’s; he felt Blaine’s lips press a soft and grateful kiss to his hair before squeezing back. Annabelle arched her brow at the pair of them before she clapped her hands and pointed at the still wrapped up Morgan. “I’m going to get this one ready for pick-up-call me when your dad gets here Kurt, I’ll help explain some things.”
Kurt grunted out an acknowledgment as she left. He and Blaine sat there for a few minutes in comforting silence before Kurt found another question he needed an answer to. “How did you know you’d be ok, with the third deed?”
Blaine didn’t answer at first, which was really all the response Kurt needed, but he found the words anyway. “I didn’t but-I couldn’t let you die. I figured it was worth a shot.”
Kurt huffed and pushed up so he could look at Blaine. “I want to hit you, but I think it would be just a tad bit hypocritical-I was hoping you were alive and that if I was out of the way, she at least wouldn’t hurt you anymore.”
Blaine looked like he wanted to say something, or cry, so Kurt leaned back in and kissed him until he relaxed again. “Well, I guess we’re both a bit stupid.”
“Maybe.” Kurt grinned and twirled a finger around one of Blaine’s curls; Blaine’s nose scrunched up adorably at it. “You’re a little shorter than I pictured.”
“I’m-?” Blaine barked out a laugh and his eyes lit up like gold. “I throw myself in front of a sword for you and that’s how you thank me, insulting me?”
“I like it-I like all of you.” Kurt’s words were shy and his cheeks bloomed red; he didn’t mind because so did Blaine’s. Then, Blaine grinned and shuffled a little closer on the bench, taking Kurt’s hands in both of his and tucking them under his chin.
“I think I finally figured out what I wanted to say.”
“Really? What?”
Blaine leaned in close and whispered before kissing him again. “I’ve been looking for you forever.”
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Once upon a time, there was a prince and a princess; the princess was cursed to be a white cat by evil Fey who wished her to marry a troll. To become human again, she had to find someone who would trust her and allow her to grant them three boons. The prince was one such person and after he had been commanded by his king to find a beautiful maiden for his queen, he went to his white cat and begged her to come with him. He loved her, even though she was a cat, and that was how she knew he trusted her, and she could trust him. She asked that he cut off her head, and asked that he trust her enough to believe that she would come to no harm if he did so. The prince did as he was asked, the princess changed back into a human, and they lived happily ever after.
This time, our story is instead about two boys, both cursed in a way and broke free of that together, who in the process of saving themselves and each other became young men. True, there was a cat and an evil witch and monstrous dragons and three good deeds, but it was about something more than happily ever after.
I know that there are a multitude if loose threads here that we simply cannot spend time on. You see, the reason for that is because each thread is its own story, just waiting to begin. The story of Blaine and his father reconciling, of the Sanders sisters, of Burt’s introduction to Blaine (and Blaine’s subsequent introduction to the Hudmel family), why Morgan was so angry Blaine was a boy and not a girl, these are all important stories in their own right, but they are not our story. Suffice it to say that each of those loose ends are quite entertaining and satisfying in their own right and let’s leave it at that.
I’ve blathered on for quite a bit in this story, so I leave you now with only one more snippet-Kurt and Blaine are certainly enough of a closing for you, I think.
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Surprisingly enough, things went relatively back to normal once Blaine turned back into a human. Yeah, he still had an odd liking for fish that he definitely didn’t have before, and bits of string and laser-like lights tended to distract him, but for the most part, things were back to normal and if you didn’t know it, you wouldn’t be able to guess anything out of the ordinary had even happened. Things were better than before: his mother was completely open with him about his heritage (which he had apparently inherited if the reversal spell was any indication) and things were getting better with his father; his Aunt Morgan was no longer a looming threat and his Aunt Annie could start living her own life again instead of worrying about everyone else’s; he had a wonderful, gorgeous, compassionate boyfriend whose family was something on the side of amazing. He grinned as he finished combing the last bit of gel into his hair, styling it so that his fro wasn’t too unmanageable but his curls still shone though (Kurt liked the curls…a lot), and glanced up at his reflection in the mirror.
It was still weird to him, seeing his face and not the cat after a year and a half; he wiped his hands on a damp cloth before he began touching and poking around his face. He looked older, which was a huge relief; he’d feared that if the curse was ever lifted, he’d turn back into his 15 year old self as opposed to whatever age he was supposed to be. He took his thumbs (and wow, had he taken those for granted before; thumbs were freaking awesome) and pushed at the corners of his eyes, pulled at his cheekbones and rubbed up into his forehead. It would take some getting used to but he was pretty sure eventually the sight of his own face wouldn’t be weird anymore. He straightened up and inspected his tux in the mirror. Classic without being too boring, it was your standard black tux, white undershirt and cuffs, but the suit itself had almost a metallic sheen to it. He wore the blue bow-tie with the yellow canaries as well.
“Blaine! Sweetheart, Kurt’s at the door!” Blaine took a deep breath and couldn’t fight the grin off his face before he headed out the doors, taking the steps quickly with some of the feline grace he still had from the curse. Yes, he was a little apprehensive about going to the prom, when the last time he’d gone to a dance it had ended so horribly, but everything that had happened after, everything that Kurt helped inspire within himself, made those worries minimal in comparison to his excitement.
Especially with the news he had to tell Kurt.
He got to the bottom of the stairs of their new home in Lima (his parents had been extremely understanding about needing to be closer to Kurt…he also suspected that they had been separated from him from too long and were willing to do just about whatever they needed to in order to see him more often) and flashed his father a small, happy grin, which was returned a little shyly. His mother was cooing over Kurt and once Blaine turned fully into the room, he could see why. Kurt was wearing what he could only identify as a kilt with a deconstructed suit jacket on top. He had leggings on and big, heavy boots that softened and hardened the look all at once; his hair was teased into a messy, side-swept pompadour. His eyes nearly glowed when they landed on Blaine, and Blaine felt his breath catch-it was dangerous how much Kurt made him feel all the time.
“Hello there, handsome.” Kurt teased in lieu of a greeting.
Blaine tried to come back with something witty, but in the end, he was only able to say the truth. “You’re beautiful.”
Kurt blushed a little and fiddled with some of the looping accents on his outfit; Blaine reached out and took his other hand, placing a small kiss on the juncture between his thumb and index finger. His mother cooed some more and pushed them together to take some pictures, chattering away as she did; Blaine was happy that she was so happy. His father came in to stand beside her and smiled at them as well-he was still adjusting, but God he was trying so hard and that made Blaine feel like the luckiest guy in the world when he added it to everything else he had. After his mother took what had to be fifty pictures, she allowed them to leave, both her and his father alternating between warnings, curfews, and well-wishes for fun. Kurt was giggling as they left the house and headed towards his Navigator; they shared a few chaste, unhurried kisses once they were inside before heading off to Breadstix to meet the other couples in New Directions they were going with.
Blaine liked most of the other Glee club members, but sometimes they were a little too much for him all at once-he’d gotten used to solitude and quiet as a cat and they were definitely the opposite of that.
“You really do look amazing,” he told Kurt softly. Kurt preened and glanced down at his outfit for a moment before focusing back on the road.
“You think so? It’s homage to the late Alexander McQueen-my dad thought it was a little over-the-top. He was worried it would stir up the bad sort of attention.”
Blaine shrugged and laced his fingers through Kurt’s free hand on the console. “Maybe it will, but it’ll be nothing we can’t handle, right?”
Kurt glanced at him and hummed contently in agreement. They drove in silence for a little bit, something they were comfortable in even though a part of them knew that they were already much too deep for so early on in the relationship. It was different for them though, Blaine thought. They hadn’t met under normal circumstances; their feelings and love were caught up in magic, curses, and bound in promises to each other (and magic’s invisible pay ledger). Blaine knew what they were anyway, and he was fairly sure so did Kurt-soul mates didn’t have to play by anyone’s rules but their own as far as either of them were concerned, and even if their peers had doubts, their parents (and Aunt Annie) knew. They had the whole story, after all.
“So, what was this big news you had to tell me? I hope it’s not a last minute decision to go to Dalton Academy-I can’t imagine your parents liking that commute after they just moved here.” Blaine smiled at the teasing lilt in Kurt’s voice and shook his head.
“No, it’s something better. You know how I missed all of my sophomore year and half of my freshman year when I was stuck as a cat, which meant I would probably have to start at McKinley two grades below you?” Kurt nodded, his lips pursed at the unpleasant thought. Blaine smiled and waited until they were at a red light so he could turn Kurt’s face towards his own. “Well, I took some placement exams at McKinley and supplemented it with some online classes I took during the curse, don’t ask how I typed up essays as a cat…it was a painstaking process, but anyway my point is that I placed high enough to technically be considered a senior.”
Kurt blinked and opened his mouth without making words a few times. The car behind them honked as the light turned green and Kurt hurriedly started the last few hundred feet towards the Breadstix parking lot. Blaine laughed and watched Kurt’s brain work through his announcement as he parked and they both got out of the car. “So, you tested as a senior…you’re going to be in my same grade?”
“I’m going to be in your same grade. I had a lot of free time to read and study ahead as a cat cooped up in a house.”
“So, you’re graduating with me?”
Blaine laughed and took Kurt’s face in his hands. Kurt wrapped his arms around his waist and Blaine leaned forward until they were separated only by a couple of spare breaths. “I’m graduating with you. Which means that after, if you still want me too, I’m going to New York with you.”
Kurt stared, then squealed and pressed a hard, happy kiss to Blaine’s lips, uncaring of any looks they got in the parking lot. Blaine smiled into Kurt’s lips and kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and careful not to tease his hair. Kurt broke away and tucked his face into Blaine’s neck before mirroring Blaine motion from before, cradling Blaine’s face and staring at him as if he was the most brilliant thing on the planet. The stare made Blaine feel heady and wanted. “That’s-that’s so-thank you, Blaine. I hated the thought of us being separated and now-I can’t believe you did that.”
“I love you, I didn’t want to be separated either.” They held onto each other for another few moments, just until they could feel people starting to stare at them a little too long. They stepped away and shared a happy, in-love glance before taking hands and walking into the restaurant.
Blaine knew that things weren’t perfect still. They were still in high school in Ohio, where people were prejudiced and didn’t understand. They were still young and prone to make mistakes as they navigated the waters of what it meant to be with someone intimately, which he kenw they both thought about but weren’t ready to pursue yet. They’d have trials and tribulations as they left for New York and collage and whatever life had in store for them later on. Magic would still probably try to muck up their lives, and they would have to tackle those problems as they came. But, even though there were so many factors to consider, so many things waiting out there to try and tear them apart, Blaine knew that no matter what the obstacle, he and Kurt would overcome it. The magic had promised them to each other, and when you made a promise like that with magic, it was one that knotted itself deep within your soul and never let go.
“Ready for the auditory onslaught that is New Directions?” Kurt quipped lightly.
Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt’s hand tight as they stepped through the doors, ready to weather battles and tackle their journeys with the hands held and fingers intertwined. “Ready.”
La Fin.
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*wipes brow* Whew, that was something. Thank you so much to those you read/commented/stalked this story. It's funny how much this guy grew and how much I ended up writing it. If you like, let me know what you thought of the story as a whole!
<333
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Oh my God…he just…he said…
Yes! He wants me, he feels the same and-yes!
I love him, Maiden, Mother and Crone, God, Buddha, Noodle Monster, I love him so much…how can I…?
He’ll see-he’s seen so much already and he’s so amazing he’ll see-
(Please see, Kurt, please see that I’m the same as you, that I want you and this just as much)
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Kurt’s voice was little above a whisper as he trailed off, emotionally exhausted but light and full of hope; when Blaine let out a strangled sounding meow, his eyes blinking up gold and green at him with so much emotion and-love was there. Kurt wasn’t sure how he ever missed it before, but there it was, plain for him to see. Kurt laughed, bright and clear, and squeezed Blaine’s paw, bowing forward slightly; full-on gentleman pose because he knew Blaine would’ve done the same if he could. “So, Blaine Warbler, would you go to prom with me?”
Blaine’s nose crinkled as if he was trying to laugh but couldn’t and his head bobbed yes. He was still a cat, still not human and a proper date for a prom, but Kurt could feel something stirring in the air around them, something important, and he knew that telling Blaine had been exactly what he needed to do. He laughed and wiped at his eyes with his free hand; he hadn’t even noticed that he had tears in them until now because he just felt so happy.
But then-something dark passed overhead and Kurt felt a chill in the wind that was supposed to be absent during May in Ohio. Blaine tensed and he looked up before snatching back his paw and hopping off the bench, tail whipping back and forth again; the hairs on his back raised tellingly; he flattened his ears and Kurt felt the happiness start to fizzle into worry. “Blaine?”
Blaine turned and hissed at Kurt; he didn’t need translation for that. It was a very clear stay back or stay here; Kurt narrowed his eyes and pushed off the bench. “Don’t you dare hiss at me, Blaine Anderson. If you think I’m going to just sit here while you head out into the street to see what’s going on, you’re supremely mistaken.”
Blaine growled deep in his throat, this time more of an angry plea, but Kurt ignored him and strode straight out of their corner and back onto the street; Blaine spat and hissed after him but didn’t try to stop him. There really was only so much he could do as a cat. The street was darker than it should be for the late afternoon; Kurt glanced overhead and saw there were angry, gray clouds covering the sunny day. This wasn’t a freak weather storm, Kurt knew that instinctively. This was magic, the bad sort; he felt another chill down his spine from the wind and glanced down at Blaine, who was the very picture of an extremely angry cat. Kurt glanced towards Rosie’s and saw that there wasn’t a door to the shop-Rosie was looking out from her window and her face was white. Kurt hurried up a little to Annabelle’s store and saw it was the same, no door, her face staring at them fearfully through her window. She was pounding and trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear her.
A look up and down the street, which was empty of cars, including his own Navigator, told him that all the doors were gone; he felt something deep in his stomach and his breath caught in his throat. “Blaine? What’s going on?”
“Well, for someone who knows what magic is now, you’re not doing a very good job of recognizing it.” Kurt whirled around and spotted a woman a few feet from them on the street. She was dressed in black, but not enough to make her too much of a caricature villain, and had similar facial features to Annabelle, along with her dark, curly hair. She was pretty, but her smile ruined everything-it was what Santana’s smile would look like if she didn’t have a soul and it contorted her face ugly. He knew who she was without needing to ask.
“You’re his Aunt Morgan.” She canted her head forward mockingly and Blaine hissed from beside him.
“Morgana, but close. Tell me, was it the hair that gave it away? It’s a Sanders trait.”
“What do you want?” Kurt wished he had some sort of weapon other than his keys-what good was it practicing sais if he didn’t have them when it counted?
“Such a loaded question.” She clasped her hands in front of her and casually strolled a little closer towards them. Kurt took a step back instinctively and kicked out his leg to keep Blaine from charging in front (a method that was effective for only one try though; cats were slippery buggers). “I want a lot of things, but mostly, in this moment, I really just don’t want my traitor of a sister to come back-and the only way to guarantee that is to make sure lover-kitty here doesn’t break his curse. Unfortunately, that means bad things for you, Legolas.”
Did everyone have to insult him using elf terms? Kurt only had a second to think that before a stream of gray, slightly sparking color rushed towards him-Kurt’s eyes widened and Blaine hissed so loudly it was almost a scream. He crouched down, throwing up his hands and cursing himself for being so stupid and careless. However, nothing but cool air touched his skin; he looked up and noticed Morgana was frowning, looking at her hands as if they were foreign to her. Kurt took a deep breath and shakily got back to his feet; he felt something poke at his chest as he did and then he remembered. He opened his jacket just enough for a peek of white to come through-the snowdrop flower he had pinned to his coat. He snapped his eyes back up and Morgana was staring at him; she must’ve noticed the glass flower too.
“I guess it really does protect from spells.” Morgana’s frown deepened and she sent another blast of smoky gray sparks at him; the result was the same. Kurt took another deep breath and felt the fear from before start to slip away. “You should really just leave, and take you trailing cobwebs with you-seriously, who told you it was a good idea to rip up gauze, spray paint it gray, and pin it to the outside of your coat?”
Morgana’s face darkened a little bit more and then she turned her hand away and started murmuring something that sounded like Latin a little. From her finger grew a sword, double-bladed and curving high at each end in opposite directions; Kurt felt fear start to trickle back in because while he was pretty confident the snowdrop would protect against spells directed at him, he was also just as sure that it would not protect him from being shish-kebabed. She noticed his face and gave a heartless chuckle. “I’m really not the sort to get my hands dirty, but I do admit, I don’t mind it from time to time. And I think I’ll especially like getting a little dirty with you, darlin’.”
She rushed at him and Kurt hurriedly rolled to out of the way, putting his Cheerio training to good use, popping right back to his feet while he watched Morgana struggle to lift the blade back up. She whispered another word against the hilt of the sword and a shimmer passed over the blade; she smirked and twirled it up and over her head without any problem after that. Kurt stared for a second before she rushed him again; he dodged the same way and then tumble-rolled to his feet as she followed close behind. He looked around, a little panicked, and tried to find something he could use to fight back with-sadly, all he saw was a single trashcan bolted to the ground. She swung high and he dodged again, twirling out of the way faster than she could swing, but she expected the dodge that time and broadsided him with the hilt across his ribs. He heard them crack and he rolled to the ground, clutching them with a pained moan. The sword may have been weightless to her, but it still felt like a sledgehammer hitting to him.
He glanced up and felt his heart drop as she came at him again, but this time, she was halted by a flash of white that darted in front of her and started biting and scratching her leg. She cried out and dropped the sword; Kurt could see droplets of blood falling from where Blaine was attacking her leg and knee. She let out a particularly painful yelp and reached down to try and tear Blaine away; she eventually was successful, having opposing thumbs does help out in a fight, and tossed Blaine away. Kurt felt something cold settle in his chest when he landed with a sickening thump. He didn’t move from where he fell and Kurt felt angry, harsh tears build up in his throat and eyes.
“Blaine! No…no no no, get up.”
“Little brat, should’ve been a declawed bastard.” Kurt swung his eyes up to stare at her, watching her inspect her torn leg and not caring that she’d-that she’d just-Blaine still wasn’t moving and-
“Why are you doing this?” Kurt choked out from where he was curled up on the ground, cradling his ribs which had to be broken. “He never did anything to you so why are you doing this?”
“Oh, he did something to me all right. He was born!” She picked up the sword from where it she’d dropped it and started back towards Kurt, her eyes the same pretty hazel color Blaine’s and Annabelle’s were, but they looked wrong in her face. “Do you know what kind of lineage my sisters and I came from? Ancient! An ancient lineage that ensured magic was passed down from generation to generation through the power of three sisters. We all knew that and Helena knew that too! And what does she do? She marries some yuppie with a law degree because she ‘loves’ him and then ignores me, starts thinking that I’m dark and misusing our gift! Then, she convinces Annie of the same and suddenly I’m not welcome to their little witching hour pow-wows…and then she had him.”
She pointed at Blaine’s still unmoving form from where she had settled right over Kurt, sword in hand but not raised; Kurt could see his reflection in the double blades. “She had a boy, not a girl! She betrayed our entire ancestry all because her yuppie husband wanted a son! Though, he got a gay son so I guess jokes on him, isn’t it? She deserves to be locked away in limbo, stuck there with her precious husband, watching her spawn live stuck as a cat-that’s why, darlin’. Aren’t you happy you got to ask that as your last words”
Kurt wished in that moment, as she tipped an imaginary hat at him and raised the sword, that he’d said goodbye or something to his dad, to Carole, Finn, and all of New Directions too. He wished that Rosie and Annabelle and anyone else stuck in their shops didn’t have to watch this because he knew they were likely besides themselves. He wished that Blaine would get up after this was all done. He didn’t wish for his own life because that seemed pointless and selfish, but he wanted Blaine to live, he wanted him to be human again someday and-he watched the sword come down and started to close his eyes.
Then-there was Blaine again, somehow up and moving and-and he was jumping right into the swords path, his neck replacing the empty space between Kurt and the blade. Kurt screamed at him but then, all he could see was white fur, red, bright light and hear Morgana’s outraged scream.
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Here’s the thing about stories. They build and they build so that when we finally reach the top, it’s like we can finally see what all the building and heartbreak and hurt was for.
Sometimes, it’s hard to decide if it was worth it or not.
But other times, it’s as if you’re finding someone for the first time, whether it’s on a staircase or mourning a dead bird (both equally valid ways this story could have happened) and all you can think to say is-
Oh, there you are.
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When Kurt could see again, he was expecting to find parts of Blaine’s body covering him-it had partly been why he hadn’t wanted to open his eyes. Tears were biting behind his lids and sobs were catching in his throat, but still, he had to know. He opened his eyes, still curled up tight on the asphalt, and while he spotted quite a lot of white fur all around, there wasn’t any blood, or heads, or anything else he expected to find when he jumped in between Kurt’s body and a falling sword. He blinked and pushed himself up with a wince and saw that all around him was white fur; then he looked up and saw, standing in front of him, the sword in his hand, was a young man with curly black hair that was shorter than Kurt had imagined. He stared and rubbed at his eyes in case he was hallucinating, but there he was, human as ever.
“Blaine?”
“Kurt, can you do me a favor?” Sweet noodle monster in the sky, his voice-Kurt could never have imagined a voice that gorgeous if he tried. “Can you give me the glass flower for a minute?”
Kurt nodded, not really aware that Blaine couldn’t see, and reached into his coat lapel, grabbing the tiny flower from where he’d pinned it (he’d made a brooch out of it…it looked much better that way). He cleared his throat and lifted it up, feeling his ribs twinge sharply as he did so; Blaine reached back and grabbed it without taking his eyes off the woman Kurt could see was writing in front of him. Morgana-she looked like she was in a lot of pain but Kurt didn’t know why. “Why is she-?”
“She’s feeling a little magical whiplash-now, let’s see, um-” Blaine started to chant something that sounded like leaves and mist, deep and colorful but still a bit whimsy, and then there was a bright light shooting from the flower and cocooning around Morgana. She went completely still and looked to be in a deep sleep. Blaine let out a triumphant sound and Kurt watched as the dark weather and clouds cleared away and cars reappeared along with doors down the storefronts. “I can’t believe that worked-I guess studying all those moldy smelling scrolls actually did-Kurt! Are you ok?”
And just like that, there he was, kneeling down in the road and eye level with Kurt, who was staring and drinking in everything he saw. Blaine wasn’t just handsome or attractive-he was blazing. His hair was a mess of short curls on top of his head and his skin was a bright olive color; he had a strong jaw, big, firm hands, and the kind of face that 1950s movie actors would’ve killed for. His eyes were the same, but they were brighter in his true face-Kurt couldn’t even talk about his mouth, or the hints of the smile and blush that was starting to form the longer Kurt looked. He was so incredibly everything and Kurt couldn’t even begin-he loved this man, this amazing, selfless, brave man. And, around his neck, was Kurt’s blue and yellow canary bow-tie, completely out of place yet still wonderful against the white pants and shirt Blaine was wearing.
“Kurt? Are you ok? I mean, of course you’re not ok, you were just in a death match with my crazy aunt and you’re clutching your ribs but-your just sort of staring.”
“I love you.” Blaine blinked at him and then Kurt was gathered up tight, almost tight enough to hurt his ribs but not enough for him to want it to end, Blaine’s face buried into his neck and his hands holding him as if he was afraid Kurt would slip away. Kurt couldn’t really move his arms, and he doubted he could with his ribs anyway, but he rested his hands against Blaine’s heart and just felt the heartbeat, let it ba-dump ba-dump against his lifeline until it really sunk in that this was Blaine and he was here. “I love you and you jumped in front of that freaking sword! Why would you-”
“The curse-it was because of the curse.” Blaine pulled away enough so that their eyes could meet. He looked dazed as he stared at Kurt’s eyes, as if he was trying to put a name to something and memorize it at the same time. “Three good deeds, important ones-I figured saving you was a good deed enough to do the trick. Your eyes they’re-I couldn’t tell before and now just-I love you too, I have for a long time. Kurt, you saved me and you-I have so much I want to tell you and I can’t even find the right thing to say and-”
“I know the feeling.” Kurt smiled and hiccupped around a happy sob, one born from stress and fear and relief. “You saved me too.”
They stared at each other for a few more silent heartbeats and then, almost in tune, leaned in together until their lips were pressing together (Kurt first and then Blaine, almost as if he was waiting for Kurt to have his own terms this time which made his heart fall just a little more). This was what Kurt had always imagined what a kiss that meant something was supposed to feel like: the warm, comforting slide of Blaine’s lips against his, the slightly odd taste in his mouth that could be catnip but Kurt didn’t care, the whoosh of his breath as it streamed through his nose so they didn’t have to break apart. Blaine was tentative, as if he had never done this before (and probably never had), but so was Kurt and soon enough they were pressing bolder, sliding quicker, and moving hands all over until Blaine’s hands pressed a little too hard on his ribs. Kurt winced and pulled away, Blaine’s lips chasing them down and murmuring apologies into his skin as he moved his hand.
They kissed and kissed and kept on kissing, even growing daring enough to open their mouths and brush tongues a few times, until a voice from above them cleared her throat tellingly. Blaine and Kurt broke apart and looked up as one, smiling up at the relieved and half-amazed looks from Annabelle and Rosie. Blaine pushed himself to his feet, carefully helped Kurt up, and then wrapped his aunt up in a hug; Kurt watched how her face melted down into messy tears and he felt even lighter. Rosie came up beside him to help him keep balance, her face looking like she had just seen the return of Elvis.
“So, Blaine was really a kid, huh?”
“Kind of hard to believe I know-” Kurt started.
“Nah, not really. He was way too smart to be a cat-boy should work on his acting chops a little. I’m going to call your daddy, all right? I think you need to see a doctor you and your boy there have got a few things to explain to him.” Kurt nodded and Rosie winked at him as she sat him down on a street side bench before heading back to her shop.
Blaine let go of his aunt and looked back to make sure Kurt was still near; he smiled open and happy and hurried over to sit down beside Kurt again. Kurt took his hand and curled his fingers together with Blaine’s. He sighed and rested his head down against Blaine’s shoulder. “What happened to your aunt? Morgana?”
“Call her Morgan, Kurt. She doesn’t deserve any extra credit beyond that.” Annabelle came over and leaned against the bench’s iron handrail. “Blaine here used a handy charm with that glass flower and reversed it against my sister. The snowdrop does bring luck and protection, but it’s also a vessel of a sort-it collects hope, no matter how small or frail. Blaine used a reversal charm that essentially shot out all of the hope that little flower has been storing up in your coat pocket straight at her while she was going through a few years worth of magical back pay. Funny thing about magic-it always catches up to you eventually. Likes taxes really. But, anyway, she’s taking a little nap-I’m hoping one long enough for her to wake up an old hag. I can take her to our mother’s home, I’m sure she’ll be willing to baby-sit her.”
“I actually have a lot of questions but-I’m too tired right now.” Kurt grinned a little sheepishly. ‘But I do want to know-are Blaine’s parents all right?”
Blaine stared down at him, a mixture of wonder and amazement before he turned big, hopeful eyes up at his aunt. “Are they ok? Are they mad?”
Annabelle smiled and wrapped an arm around Blaine’s shoulders in a quick, familial hug. “Well, judging by the ecstatic phone call I received from your mother about twenty minutes ago letting me know how proud of you she and your dad were and that they were driving over to my store immediately from Westerville, I’d say pretty ok.”
Blaine let out a shuddering breath and Kurt tightened his hand around Blaine’s; he felt Blaine’s lips press a soft and grateful kiss to his hair before squeezing back. Annabelle arched her brow at the pair of them before she clapped her hands and pointed at the still wrapped up Morgan. “I’m going to get this one ready for pick-up-call me when your dad gets here Kurt, I’ll help explain some things.”
Kurt grunted out an acknowledgment as she left. He and Blaine sat there for a few minutes in comforting silence before Kurt found another question he needed an answer to. “How did you know you’d be ok, with the third deed?”
Blaine didn’t answer at first, which was really all the response Kurt needed, but he found the words anyway. “I didn’t but-I couldn’t let you die. I figured it was worth a shot.”
Kurt huffed and pushed up so he could look at Blaine. “I want to hit you, but I think it would be just a tad bit hypocritical-I was hoping you were alive and that if I was out of the way, she at least wouldn’t hurt you anymore.”
Blaine looked like he wanted to say something, or cry, so Kurt leaned back in and kissed him until he relaxed again. “Well, I guess we’re both a bit stupid.”
“Maybe.” Kurt grinned and twirled a finger around one of Blaine’s curls; Blaine’s nose scrunched up adorably at it. “You’re a little shorter than I pictured.”
“I’m-?” Blaine barked out a laugh and his eyes lit up like gold. “I throw myself in front of a sword for you and that’s how you thank me, insulting me?”
“I like it-I like all of you.” Kurt’s words were shy and his cheeks bloomed red; he didn’t mind because so did Blaine’s. Then, Blaine grinned and shuffled a little closer on the bench, taking Kurt’s hands in both of his and tucking them under his chin.
“I think I finally figured out what I wanted to say.”
“Really? What?”
Blaine leaned in close and whispered before kissing him again. “I’ve been looking for you forever.”
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Once upon a time, there was a prince and a princess; the princess was cursed to be a white cat by evil Fey who wished her to marry a troll. To become human again, she had to find someone who would trust her and allow her to grant them three boons. The prince was one such person and after he had been commanded by his king to find a beautiful maiden for his queen, he went to his white cat and begged her to come with him. He loved her, even though she was a cat, and that was how she knew he trusted her, and she could trust him. She asked that he cut off her head, and asked that he trust her enough to believe that she would come to no harm if he did so. The prince did as he was asked, the princess changed back into a human, and they lived happily ever after.
This time, our story is instead about two boys, both cursed in a way and broke free of that together, who in the process of saving themselves and each other became young men. True, there was a cat and an evil witch and monstrous dragons and three good deeds, but it was about something more than happily ever after.
I know that there are a multitude if loose threads here that we simply cannot spend time on. You see, the reason for that is because each thread is its own story, just waiting to begin. The story of Blaine and his father reconciling, of the Sanders sisters, of Burt’s introduction to Blaine (and Blaine’s subsequent introduction to the Hudmel family), why Morgan was so angry Blaine was a boy and not a girl, these are all important stories in their own right, but they are not our story. Suffice it to say that each of those loose ends are quite entertaining and satisfying in their own right and let’s leave it at that.
I’ve blathered on for quite a bit in this story, so I leave you now with only one more snippet-Kurt and Blaine are certainly enough of a closing for you, I think.
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Surprisingly enough, things went relatively back to normal once Blaine turned back into a human. Yeah, he still had an odd liking for fish that he definitely didn’t have before, and bits of string and laser-like lights tended to distract him, but for the most part, things were back to normal and if you didn’t know it, you wouldn’t be able to guess anything out of the ordinary had even happened. Things were better than before: his mother was completely open with him about his heritage (which he had apparently inherited if the reversal spell was any indication) and things were getting better with his father; his Aunt Morgan was no longer a looming threat and his Aunt Annie could start living her own life again instead of worrying about everyone else’s; he had a wonderful, gorgeous, compassionate boyfriend whose family was something on the side of amazing. He grinned as he finished combing the last bit of gel into his hair, styling it so that his fro wasn’t too unmanageable but his curls still shone though (Kurt liked the curls…a lot), and glanced up at his reflection in the mirror.
It was still weird to him, seeing his face and not the cat after a year and a half; he wiped his hands on a damp cloth before he began touching and poking around his face. He looked older, which was a huge relief; he’d feared that if the curse was ever lifted, he’d turn back into his 15 year old self as opposed to whatever age he was supposed to be. He took his thumbs (and wow, had he taken those for granted before; thumbs were freaking awesome) and pushed at the corners of his eyes, pulled at his cheekbones and rubbed up into his forehead. It would take some getting used to but he was pretty sure eventually the sight of his own face wouldn’t be weird anymore. He straightened up and inspected his tux in the mirror. Classic without being too boring, it was your standard black tux, white undershirt and cuffs, but the suit itself had almost a metallic sheen to it. He wore the blue bow-tie with the yellow canaries as well.
“Blaine! Sweetheart, Kurt’s at the door!” Blaine took a deep breath and couldn’t fight the grin off his face before he headed out the doors, taking the steps quickly with some of the feline grace he still had from the curse. Yes, he was a little apprehensive about going to the prom, when the last time he’d gone to a dance it had ended so horribly, but everything that had happened after, everything that Kurt helped inspire within himself, made those worries minimal in comparison to his excitement.
Especially with the news he had to tell Kurt.
He got to the bottom of the stairs of their new home in Lima (his parents had been extremely understanding about needing to be closer to Kurt…he also suspected that they had been separated from him from too long and were willing to do just about whatever they needed to in order to see him more often) and flashed his father a small, happy grin, which was returned a little shyly. His mother was cooing over Kurt and once Blaine turned fully into the room, he could see why. Kurt was wearing what he could only identify as a kilt with a deconstructed suit jacket on top. He had leggings on and big, heavy boots that softened and hardened the look all at once; his hair was teased into a messy, side-swept pompadour. His eyes nearly glowed when they landed on Blaine, and Blaine felt his breath catch-it was dangerous how much Kurt made him feel all the time.
“Hello there, handsome.” Kurt teased in lieu of a greeting.
Blaine tried to come back with something witty, but in the end, he was only able to say the truth. “You’re beautiful.”
Kurt blushed a little and fiddled with some of the looping accents on his outfit; Blaine reached out and took his other hand, placing a small kiss on the juncture between his thumb and index finger. His mother cooed some more and pushed them together to take some pictures, chattering away as she did; Blaine was happy that she was so happy. His father came in to stand beside her and smiled at them as well-he was still adjusting, but God he was trying so hard and that made Blaine feel like the luckiest guy in the world when he added it to everything else he had. After his mother took what had to be fifty pictures, she allowed them to leave, both her and his father alternating between warnings, curfews, and well-wishes for fun. Kurt was giggling as they left the house and headed towards his Navigator; they shared a few chaste, unhurried kisses once they were inside before heading off to Breadstix to meet the other couples in New Directions they were going with.
Blaine liked most of the other Glee club members, but sometimes they were a little too much for him all at once-he’d gotten used to solitude and quiet as a cat and they were definitely the opposite of that.
“You really do look amazing,” he told Kurt softly. Kurt preened and glanced down at his outfit for a moment before focusing back on the road.
“You think so? It’s homage to the late Alexander McQueen-my dad thought it was a little over-the-top. He was worried it would stir up the bad sort of attention.”
Blaine shrugged and laced his fingers through Kurt’s free hand on the console. “Maybe it will, but it’ll be nothing we can’t handle, right?”
Kurt glanced at him and hummed contently in agreement. They drove in silence for a little bit, something they were comfortable in even though a part of them knew that they were already much too deep for so early on in the relationship. It was different for them though, Blaine thought. They hadn’t met under normal circumstances; their feelings and love were caught up in magic, curses, and bound in promises to each other (and magic’s invisible pay ledger). Blaine knew what they were anyway, and he was fairly sure so did Kurt-soul mates didn’t have to play by anyone’s rules but their own as far as either of them were concerned, and even if their peers had doubts, their parents (and Aunt Annie) knew. They had the whole story, after all.
“So, what was this big news you had to tell me? I hope it’s not a last minute decision to go to Dalton Academy-I can’t imagine your parents liking that commute after they just moved here.” Blaine smiled at the teasing lilt in Kurt’s voice and shook his head.
“No, it’s something better. You know how I missed all of my sophomore year and half of my freshman year when I was stuck as a cat, which meant I would probably have to start at McKinley two grades below you?” Kurt nodded, his lips pursed at the unpleasant thought. Blaine smiled and waited until they were at a red light so he could turn Kurt’s face towards his own. “Well, I took some placement exams at McKinley and supplemented it with some online classes I took during the curse, don’t ask how I typed up essays as a cat…it was a painstaking process, but anyway my point is that I placed high enough to technically be considered a senior.”
Kurt blinked and opened his mouth without making words a few times. The car behind them honked as the light turned green and Kurt hurriedly started the last few hundred feet towards the Breadstix parking lot. Blaine laughed and watched Kurt’s brain work through his announcement as he parked and they both got out of the car. “So, you tested as a senior…you’re going to be in my same grade?”
“I’m going to be in your same grade. I had a lot of free time to read and study ahead as a cat cooped up in a house.”
“So, you’re graduating with me?”
Blaine laughed and took Kurt’s face in his hands. Kurt wrapped his arms around his waist and Blaine leaned forward until they were separated only by a couple of spare breaths. “I’m graduating with you. Which means that after, if you still want me too, I’m going to New York with you.”
Kurt stared, then squealed and pressed a hard, happy kiss to Blaine’s lips, uncaring of any looks they got in the parking lot. Blaine smiled into Kurt’s lips and kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and careful not to tease his hair. Kurt broke away and tucked his face into Blaine’s neck before mirroring Blaine motion from before, cradling Blaine’s face and staring at him as if he was the most brilliant thing on the planet. The stare made Blaine feel heady and wanted. “That’s-that’s so-thank you, Blaine. I hated the thought of us being separated and now-I can’t believe you did that.”
“I love you, I didn’t want to be separated either.” They held onto each other for another few moments, just until they could feel people starting to stare at them a little too long. They stepped away and shared a happy, in-love glance before taking hands and walking into the restaurant.
Blaine knew that things weren’t perfect still. They were still in high school in Ohio, where people were prejudiced and didn’t understand. They were still young and prone to make mistakes as they navigated the waters of what it meant to be with someone intimately, which he kenw they both thought about but weren’t ready to pursue yet. They’d have trials and tribulations as they left for New York and collage and whatever life had in store for them later on. Magic would still probably try to muck up their lives, and they would have to tackle those problems as they came. But, even though there were so many factors to consider, so many things waiting out there to try and tear them apart, Blaine knew that no matter what the obstacle, he and Kurt would overcome it. The magic had promised them to each other, and when you made a promise like that with magic, it was one that knotted itself deep within your soul and never let go.
“Ready for the auditory onslaught that is New Directions?” Kurt quipped lightly.
Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt’s hand tight as they stepped through the doors, ready to weather battles and tackle their journeys with the hands held and fingers intertwined. “Ready.”
La Fin.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*wipes brow* Whew, that was something. Thank you so much to those you read/commented/stalked this story. It's funny how much this guy grew and how much I ended up writing it. If you like, let me know what you thought of the story as a whole!
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