Fic: Lights Will Guide You Home (2/2)
(Part One)
tears stream down on your face
i promise you i will learn from my mistakes
tears stream down on your face
and i...
lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you
Kurt wakes up the next morning the way he always does, except that his clothes are wrinkled all to hell and he is in serious need of moisturizing. He gets up and showers and gets dressed and drinks his coffee, going about his usual routine the way he always does. Technically, nothing is different.
Everything feels wrong.
He picks Blaine’s promise ring up from his bedside table and puts it on for a moment, before taking it off again and throwing it across the room instead. It hits the wall and falls to the floor with a very unsatisfying clink, and he wishes he hadn’t done it, because he’s not mad at Blaine, not really. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.
Nothing has changed, technically - he hasn’t gained or lost anything since two days ago. Blaine shouldn’t have been back in the picture long enough to make an impact, but somehow he had, he’d stormed in and turned everything upside down, and then walked right back out again.
Once again, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, you have ruined everything for yourself. He feels sick to his stomach, every word he and Blaine had shouted at each other the night before repeating in his mind like some sick chant. He glances up at the clock on the wall, which reads 9:45, and winces. He has work in an hour, and after that the rest of the day will be spent in the theater, the very last place he wants to be. It shocks him for a moment that life will go on, with or without him. He’d half expected to lay in bed all day, eating a whole tub of cookie dough ice cream and feeling awful, but life has other plans.
And maybe that’s a good thing. Yes, he misses Blaine, and he wishes that he could fix things, but he can’t pine over his high school boyfriend forever. Except calling him ‘the high-school sweetheart’ makes it sound like it was nothing, just a fling, and it was so much more. Blaine was a perfect boyfriend, yes, but in the long run that hadn’t been the most important thing about them. He was also one of the closest friends Kurt had ever had, and that’s what counted. Kurt tries not to be too much of a hopeless romantic if he can help it (Blaine was always romantic enough for the both of them) but even though he’s mostly grown out of his teenage naiveté, he thinks that, if he still believed in soul mates, Blaine would be the closest thing.
But he’s ruined that, too, probably forever.
Kurt shuts his eyes and takes a long, deep, shaky breath. Then he stands up, and gets ready to face the day.
.
He ignores all phone calls unless they’re work related for the rest of the day. There is a distinct lack of calls from Blaine, but he refuses to think about that. He’s doing fairly well, in his opinion, at keeping his mind off Blaine and his own self-loathing, until it’s almost evening.
Somehow he ends up staying at the theater a little late, because Derek is running behind on one of the costumes and Kurt is one of the few other people here who can actually sew worth a damn, so he’s trapped backstage, alone, with the boy who has a hopeless crush on him. Thankfully, the red-haired boy is quiet tonight, making conversation but letting it fall into a comfortable silence when Kurt decides not to reply. They sit on the floor, finishing the stitching on a particularly large dress, and the work is so mindless that Kurt’s mind wanders all over the place. This, he decides, isn’t a particularly good thing.
“So,” Derek says, jerking Kurt from his thoughts. The red-head looks up at him for a moment, smiles shyly, and them looks back down, continuing his sewing as he talks. “I was just wondering if you might want to get coffee some time.”
Kurt freezes. You can’t be doing this to me, he thinks desperately. Not today of all days. He knew that this was coming, someday, but he’s not prepared for how to reject the boy. “…As in a date?” He blurts out, just to make sure. Smooth, Hummel. Very smooth.
Derek considers that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. If you want. I’d like that. Or it can be just as friends. It’s up to you.” He smiles, either completely calm and composed or doing a very good job at hiding his nervousness. Kurt remembers the day he finally got up the nerve to ask Blaine on a real date, one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life. It had all worked out in his favor, in the end, because Blaine found it ‘cute’ when Kurt was flustered, but it still brings a blush to his cheeks thinking about the ordeal. Derek isn’t like that. Nothing fazes him. “I think I’d like to be your friend either way, if we aren’t already. I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you don’t like me so much.” He blushes a little, and somehow Kurt feels even worse than he already does. He has been cold to the other boy, perhaps overtly so, but he hadn’t intended for it to go that far. He doesn’t like his habit of sleeping around, is the problem, and it would be so easy to like Derek, and Kurt doesn’t want to hurt someone so kind.
“I would love to be friends,” he says, a little surprised to find that it’s one hundred percent true. “But I… I can’t go on a date with you. I’m sorry.”
Derek just nods, the smile on his face still big and bright and genuine. “Okay. Friends is great.” He goes back to sewing, as if the conversation hadn’t been a big deal at all, like they’d just been talking about the weather. Kurt gapes at him.
“How do you do it?” He blurts out.
Derek glances up again. “Hm?”
“How do you stay so… so happy? Even when nothing goes your way, you just bounce right back. How do you manage it?”
“I… huh.” Derek looks more bemused than anything else. “I guess I just don’t let the bad stuff get to me. Even when everything sucks, I remember that it’ll all be okay in the end. I just look for the bright side in everything, and it makes the bad stuff not so bad. For instance: I really like you, you already knew that - but I know you’re in love with someone else. Being friends is just as good as having a boyfriend - well, actually, I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I’m guessing it’s just as good - so it’s okay. I just don’t let myself stay sad.” He shrugs.
“What I wouldn’t give to be able to do that,” Kurt mumbles.
“You can!”
“I’ve wrecked everything for myself. I don’t think I can see the bright side of that.” He frowns. “Wait. What makes you think I’m in love with someone else?”
The redhead smiles knowingly. “At the bar yesterday. When you met up with that Blaine boy. You smiled at him. It was the first time I’ve ever seen you smile for real. I bet he’s the only one who’s ever seen that smile.”
Kurt looks away, sighing. They’ve both forgotten their sewing, now. He’s not sure why he’s opening up to the other boy, but if they’re friends now, he supposes that this is the first step. “Yes, well, that didn’t last long.”
“Yeah, I heard you fighting. Sorry.” Derek hesitates. “If it helps, he smiled at you the same way. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. I bet you could still fix things, if you hurry.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you have to lose?”
Kurt remains silent for a while, watching Derek’s tiny hands make quick work of the costume. As the other boy is finishing up, Kurt stands. “I… I don’t have anything to lose. I think I have to go.”
Derek grins. “Good luck, Kurt.”
He pauses just as he’s about to leave. “Maybe when we get coffee I can give you some tips on how to fix your hair,” he says, and somehow the red-head’s smile grows even wider.
“You can teach me how to dress.” He gestures at the oversized, lumpy green sweater he’s wearing and giggles. “I guess I’m not really good at this whole gay thing yet.”
“Deal.”
“Now get out of here and get your man back.”
.
“Hello?”
“Blaine? It’s Kurt.”
“...why are you calling me? Are you okay?”
“No, not really. Listen. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me or ever see me again. I deserve even worse. So it’s okay if you just hang up right now.”
“What is it?”
“If you want to talk… or want an explanation… meet me at my apartment building tonight.”
.
He’s sitting on the ground and leaning up against the brick wall of the apartment building, the bag he always seems to carry lying next to him, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in his lap. He opens his eyes when Kurt stops in front of him, and Kurt can’t be sure, but it looks like he might have been crying. He’s let his stubble grow out just a little more, probably didn’t bother to shave that morning, but it’s actually somewhat sexy. Their eyes meet, but Blaine quickly looks away.
Kurt lets himself smile, just the tiniest bit. It seems like neither of them are sure who should be more angry at the other. He reaches out and takes Blaine’s hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world (and maybe it is), pulling him up. Blaine stares at him for a moment, not understanding, and Kurt nods at the door. He lets go of the other boy’s hand and goes inside, silently giving Blaine the choice to follow him if he wants. He’s not surprised when he hears Blaine’s footsteps behind him a few moments later.
The elevator ride up to Kurt’s apartment is, to this day, one of the strangest and most awkward experiences he can remember. They don’t speak. They stay on opposite sides of the small space, and Kurt sneaks little looks at Blaine every chance he gets. He’s probably not being as subtle as he thinks (Blaine used to tease him about how very un-subtle he is), but he doesn’t care so much.
He catches Blaine looking at him, once, as well, but he doesn’t have a chance to acknowledge it before the elevator dings and the door opens. “This is it,” Kurt murmurs as they pause in front of the door to his apartment. This is where it all changes, for better or worse. He takes a deep breath, unlocks the door, and steps inside.
Kurt takes Blaine’s jacket and hangs it up along with his own, and Blaine sets his overstuffed bag down on the floor as he steps into the living room. He just stands there for a few moments, looking around at everything, soaking it all in. “Nice place,” he says after a while. Kurt snorts.
“You don’t have to be so polite, I know what it is.”
“Okay, let’s just say only your flair for design could make this place look this good.”
Kurt smiles softly. “Sit down, if you want. Can I get you something to drink, or…?”
“I’m fine.”
He brings him a glass of water anyway, just because his voice sounds dry and rough, and he drinks it all, murmuring his thanks. Kurt sits on the opposite end of the couch, tense and uneasy.
“I just need to say-“
“Blaine, I-“ They both stop, and Kurt is relieved to see the hint of a smile on Blaine’s face. “Go ahead.”
“I was out of line last night, I shouldn’t have said those things, you were right, and I’m so sorry.” It all comes out in a breathless rush. “I’m just… still bitter, I guess.”
Kurt nods. “I’m sorry too. For everything. I mean, yes, you were being awful, but I deserved it.”
“Kurt, you weren’t -“
“Stop. I know how I was acting. I’ve been just as much of an asshole as you, even more so - you don’t have to act like I didn’t hurt you.” He interrupts, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can fully work through what he’s saying.
Blaine hesitates. “Well. Yeah.” He laughs softly, and Kurt can’t help but laugh, too, a little. He stares down at his hands, biting his lip, and unsure where to go from here. He hadn’t actually had, you know, anything resembling a plan when he’d decided to try to talk to Blaine again. All he knows is that he has to do it, has to try to fix things, whatever the outcome might be. But what to say? What does he even want from all of this? If he were in Blaine’s shoes, what would he want himself to say?
The truth.
“I was scared.” He can’t bring his voice beyond a hoarse whisper. He feels Blaine’s eyes locked on him, looking through him, but he can’t return the look.
“Scared?”
“It was really stupid. And it in no way makes any of this okay. But yes, I was scared. Terrified. Of you. Of us.” Blaine doesn’t reply, and Kurt goes on. “I… feelings come to me so easily, you know? I was a little bit in love with you the very second I saw you - I told my old teacher I loved you before I told you - and I knew that it was too fast, even for me. I fell for you so quickly, and I thought that maybe I’d get over you just as fast. Because that’s just how I am.” He takes a deep breath, and continues, his voice a little stronger now. “But I didn’t. I just fell harder and harder.”
“Kurt, you don’t have to explain anything if you don’t-“
“Yes I do. For myself, too. Because I meant it, last night. When I said that I didn’t know why I broke up with you.” He finally dares to look at Blaine, meeting his eyes and not looking away. It’s really, really hard, but their gazes lock, and Kurt finds himself memorizing the color and shape of Blaine’s eyes all over again.
Blaine frowns. “And now you do.”
“No.” Kurt forces himself to laugh. “No, not really. I guess that there wasn’t one particular reason, just a whole bunch of stupid things all added up.” He slumps down into the couch just a little, pulling his legs up underneath him after slipping off his shoes, and turns to face Blaine. “Because high school relationships never last, right? I mean, we were so much more than that, we were… hell, I don’t know what we were, but it was always so much more than that. But then you started talking about California instead of New York, and I just...”
“I would have followed you, Kurt. Anywhere. You just had to ask.”
“I know. And I would have done the same. But I didn’t want you to have to, you know? And I just kept thinking about it, it kept me awake every night, and I think I got it in my head that you would be better off without me. That this wasn’t what you really wanted. That you could find another boy you loved more than me and you would be happy.”
Blaine bites his lip, glancing away for a moment and rubbing at his tired, red-rimmed eyes with the palm of his hand. “I wanted to stay friends.”
“Me too,” Kurt replies quickly. “Oh my god, me too. I just… we fought, and then I didn’t know what to say, and I thought it was too late… that’s such a stupid excuse, I know.”
“I’ve spent the last three years trying so hard to hate you,” Blaine says quietly. “To convince myself that maybe I am better off without you.”
“I’m sorry -“
“But I gave up on that,” he continues, ignoring Kurt’s interruption. “And when it comes down to it… yeah, I figured that we’d probably never see each other again, and I’d never fully come to terms with that. But I did come to terms with the fact that…” he stops, choking on the words, then breathing deeply and continuing. “That… that part of me is always going to love you, in some way, whether you return those feelings or not. As best friends - whenever someone asks me who my best friend is, I still think of you, did you know that? Or as more than a friend… or as a chance I had and lost. I meant it, when I said forever.” It all comes out in a breathless tumble of words, and Kurt feels his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his throat tightening.
“You know…” Kurt tries to keep his eyes on Blaine as he speaks, but it’s hard when his voice wobbles and he feels like he’s going to dissolve into a puddle of long-overdue tears any second. “At first I thought I was okay. I thought I’d get over it, because you were just my high-school sweetheart, right, and that never works out.” He can’t help it. His vision blurs and he feels hot, wet tears rolling down his cheeks, and his next words come out in a shaky sob. “I thought I’d be okay with that, after a little while. But I never expected to love you so much, or that I’d keep on loving you for the rest of my life.”
Before he knows what’s happening, Blaine reaches over and takes Kurt’s hand, entwining their fingers like they still do this every day, drawing him just that little bit closer. His hands feel familiar, but different at the same time. They’re calloused now, a little rougher, musician’s hands. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the paler boy’s knuckles, murmuring “Shh, shh,” as Kurt cries softly. It’s stupid, because Kurt feels like he is the last person to deserve comfort - he’s the one who hurt Blaine, not the other way around - but Blaine is just like this, a shoulder to cry on to anyone who might need it. Even though he’s angry (has every reason to be, really), he slips right into this role, becoming what he was made for: Kurt’s shelter in a storm, his anchor. We were made for each other, he remembers Blaine whispering into his hear late one night. How could Kurt have given that up?
“You deserve so much better than me,” Kurt mumbled, wiping away his tears. “And I’ve never said that about anyone, so you should feel special.”
Blaine smiles, but remains silent a little longer, continuing to stroke the soft skin of Kurt’s hand. He moves closer - Kurt can feel the warmth from his body, and sucks in his breath when Blaine’s leg pressed against his. “Yeah, maybe,” he says softly, when he finally does speak. Kurt stares at him. “But I don’t want someone better.” Their eyes meet, and stay locked when Blaine lifts his hand and presses his lips against it. It’s so much more intimate than Kurt had thought such a simple gesture could be, and his breath catches in the back of his throat at the look in Blaine’s eyes. A look that says maybe; maybe they’re on the road to making things okay.
“First things first,” Blaine says. “Because nothing, nothing is more important to me than this. Friends? Best friends?”
“Yes.” Kurt nods without hesitation. As if he could possibly say no to this. “Yes, yes.” Just like that, a weight lifts from his chest. “I think I’d take you any way I could get at this point.”
“Glad we’re finally on the same page. And second…” He leans in closer, and Kurt can’t stop a gasp from escaping him, his eyes drifting closed when he feels Blaine’s lips pressing feather-light touches against his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, and finally one last chaste kiss on the lips. It’s simple, but Kurt shudders, unconsciously leaning in closer. They’re so close that even after Blaine pulls back - barely an inch or two - their foreheads still touch, and it’s almost like they’re breathing the same air. He’s missed this. He’s missed Blaine.
Even after such a tiny kiss, Blaine’s breath comes heavier. He lifts a hand to cup Kurt’s cheek. “I hope I’m not being too forward,” he murmurs, and while part of Kurt wants to laugh at how formal Blaine can still be sometimes, there’s something in his voice, something ragged around the edges, something broken. So Kurt finds himself squeezing Blaine’s hand tighter and reaching up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“No, god no,” He replies, stealing another quick kiss before either of them can say anything more.
“That’s good.” Blaine laughs, a little, and Kurt imagines that he can feel the sound throughout his entire body. Kissing Blaine, touching Blaine, it’s like… comfort food, in some way. Blaine smells like spices and tastes like thunderstorms, just the way he remembers. And maybe he’ll regret this in the morning, maybe not (he hopes not), but right now Blaine is warm and familiar and all Kurt wants in the entire world.
“I am so in love with you,” he whispers before he realizes what he’s saying. “I always have been, and I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you - I’m sorry -“
“Shh.” Kurt shuts up immediately, focusing instead on how Blaine’s calloused thumb is now stroking his cheek. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’m here, you’re here, and that’s all I care about right now. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”
Kurt breathes deeply, feeling tears sting his eyes again for reasons he can’t describe, but he fights them away. “Are you sure?”
“No.” Kurt blinks, a little surprised, and Blaine laughs again. “I’m not sure of anything. I’m terrified, actually. But I can’t lose you again.”
“You won’t lose me -“ He is cut off by Blaine’s lips on his, slow but thorough. He whimpers - he actually whimpers, like this is the first kiss he’s had in a hundred years, and he thinks it’s kind of pathetic, but Blaine doesn’t seem to mind, reacts pretty well to it, actually, so it can’t be all that bad. He dares to deepen the kiss, just a little, and twists Blaine’s curls around his fingers. He feels like he should be afraid, at least nervous, but he’s not. Maybe he’s scared of the future, of what will come of them in the end, but that doesn’t even matter tonight. Tonight is nothing but the two of them.
They stop to breathe - reluctantly - and Kurt stands up, tugging Blaine along with him. It’s only six feet from the couch to the door of his bedroom, but it feels like miles, and when he steps inside and shuts the door he barely has time to turn around before Blaine presses him up against it, kissing him again, harder this time.
I never thought I’d have this again, Kurt thinks, and the thought makes him want to cry all over again. I never thought I’d have you, see you, touch you -
“Kurt,” Blaine groans, low and deep and hot, his hands on Kurt’s waist and then underneath his shirt, and that small amount of skin on skin is just not enough. Kurt shoves him away long enough to bunch his hands in Blaine’s shirt and tug it over his head, and Blaine does the same to him, ducking his head down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses across Kurt’s chest.
“Ohhhmygod,” Kurt gasps, hands stroking across Blaine’s back and shoulders. He has sex with so many boys, but none of them make him feel the way Blaine does with only a few kisses. “Bed, we should - we should be on the bed,” he says with the last bit of intelligence he can muster.
“Mmm,” Blaine agrees, but he doesn’t move, just reaches down to fumble with Kurt’s belt buckle. He practically growls in frustration, and Kurt takes his hands away, kissing his knuckles lightly before undoing the buckle himself. He kicks off his jeans unceremoniously, watching hungrily as Blaine does the same, and then drags Blaine over to the bed. Kurt lays on his back and wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders as he follows.
Blaine explores him with his hands, somehow gentle and rough at the same time, as if re-memorizing the contours of his body. “So beautiful, Kurt, baby, you’re so beautiful-“ Kurt silences him with a kiss, pulling Blaine down on top on him, and hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, wriggling a little to get them off and moaning as he feels Blaine hard against his hip. When they’re both naked Blaine rolls his hips, just a little, and Kurt groans and pulls him into another kiss.
He feels like if they get any closer he will melt, sink into this beautiful man’s skin and stay there forever. It’s nothing more than muscle memory when one hand tangles in Blaine’s hair - every once in a while tugging on it gently - or when his back arches as Blaine drags his lips across his jutting collarbone, down his chest, sucking hickeys to life on his stomach. Slowly, because they have all the time in the world, Kurt re-learns the rhythm of Blaine’s body, his heartbeat, his breath.
They’re so close together and Kurt can’t bring himself to move farther away, so he can do little more than rock his hips up against Blaine as he grinds down, over and over and over, and it’s not really enough, but it’s already so much that he can barely stand it. He’s sure that he will die right there, gasping Blaine’s name as their skin slides together, and Kurt even revels in the feeling of Blaine’s chest hair and stubble scratching him as they move together - new sensations, but not unwelcome.
“Blaine - oh, oh my god -“ his voice breaks, shatters, and he buries his face into Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine says something too, but it’s muffled - Kurt hears his name, hears Blaine call him ‘baby’ again, but that’s it, and they’re both gasping and breathing and touching and moving and… “Blaine, Blaine, Blaine…”
Blaine managed to get a hand between him, and Kurt throws his head back and cries out when he feels Blaine’s hand against him, can’t help but thrust into the touch. “C’mon, c’mon,” Blaine says, his breath hot in Kurt’s ear, and that’s all Kurt needs - three long strokes of Blaine’s hand and that’s it, it’s over, and Kurt sobs in relief as he comes between them, digging his fingernails into Blaine’s back and holding him tight. Not ten seconds later Blaine shudders and collapses half on top of him, breathing heavily.
They don’t say anything for a long time, but they don’t really need to. There is a calm, serene understanding between them, as Kurt lets his eyes drift shut. Neither of them make much of an effort to move, their limbs entwined. Kurt finds himself rubbing circles on the small of Blaine’s back, while Blaine plants tiny kisses on the faint freckles on his shoulder. They’re gross and sticky and sweaty and Kurt wouldn’t move if his life depended on it.
“You okay?” Blaine mumbles, after what could be hours or mere minutes, but Kurt’s only answer is a low “Hmmm” as he nuzzles into Blaine’s neck, drifting off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep he’s had in years.
.
He’s only half awake when he feels Blaine slipping out of the bed, kissing his forehead lightly, and he falls back to sleep immediately. When he opens his eyes again the sky outside his window is a little lighter, and his bed is painfully empty.
Kurt rolls over and stares at the space where Blaine is supposed to be, confused and a little hurt, sure for a moment that Blaine has left for good - until he hears a familiar voice, faint, coming from some other room in the tiny apartment. His frown turns into a smile, and he gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers and the first t-shirt he sees - not even bothering to fix his messy hair, he’ll get dressed for real once he’s had a shower - and makes his way to the kitchen.
Blaine is there, standing in front of the stove and cooking something, but Kurt can’t see what it is. He’s dressed in the t-shirt he wore the day before and a random pair of Kurt’s pajama pants, which hang deliciously low on his hips. His hair sticks out in all directions, which is adorable. Rachel is leaning against the counter next to him, a mug of tea in her hands and a smile on her face.
“Obviously we wouldn’t make you pay rent until you find a job,” Rachel says, and it’s clear that Kurt has walked into the middle of a discussion. “We’d be happy to help you get back on your feet.”
“Well, my plans aren’t set in stone just yet,” Blaine says. “But… that would be amazing, Rachel. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Rachel sips at her tea. “You make Kurt happy. Speaking of which…” She raises her eyebrows. “I assume you’ve sorted things out?”
Blaine pretends to pay close attention to whatever he’s cooking. “What makes you think that?”
“Please.”
A soft smile lights up his face. “I really do love him.” He says quietly, almost reverently. And it hits Kurt, then, that this is what was missing. Not Blaine being his boyfriend, but Blaine being there at all. This shithole of an apartment finally feels sort of like home, with the three of them there. The way it was always supposed to be before California and their own stupidity got in the way.
He knows, logically, that one night (hopefully the first night of many) with Blaine will not turn his life around. He still won’t be happy one hundred percent of the time - he knows, now, that one person can’t make that happen. He has to make an effort, too.
But maybe, just maybe, Blaine can push him in the right direction.
Rachel sees him watching (he’s pretty sure she knew he was there all along) and waves at him, calling out far more loudly than necessary (because some things never change) “Good morning!” Blaine turns his head, grinning when he sees Kurt. Kurt’s heart melts a little. He can’t help it.
“Hi,” Blaine says, his cheeks turning just a little bit red. “Um. I made omelets.”
Kurt steps forward wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist from behind, resting his cheek on Blaine’s shoulder. “He followed me home,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes at Rachel, who giggles. “Can I keep him?”
“I’m not a puppy!” Blaine protests.
“Yes, you are.” Rachel says.
“…yeah, I am.”
Kurt can’t believe how right everything feels.
“How long can you stay?” He murmurs into Blaine’s ear.
“Forever, if you want.” Blaine replies without a second of hesitation. Kurt holds him even tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, and Blaine takes his hands and entwines their fingers.
If Kurt could choose a single moment to live in forever, he would undoubtedly choose this one.
tears stream down on your face
i promise you i will learn from my mistakes
tears stream down on your face
and i...
lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and i will try to fix you
Kurt wakes up the next morning the way he always does, except that his clothes are wrinkled all to hell and he is in serious need of moisturizing. He gets up and showers and gets dressed and drinks his coffee, going about his usual routine the way he always does. Technically, nothing is different.
Everything feels wrong.
He picks Blaine’s promise ring up from his bedside table and puts it on for a moment, before taking it off again and throwing it across the room instead. It hits the wall and falls to the floor with a very unsatisfying clink, and he wishes he hadn’t done it, because he’s not mad at Blaine, not really. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.
Nothing has changed, technically - he hasn’t gained or lost anything since two days ago. Blaine shouldn’t have been back in the picture long enough to make an impact, but somehow he had, he’d stormed in and turned everything upside down, and then walked right back out again.
Once again, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, you have ruined everything for yourself. He feels sick to his stomach, every word he and Blaine had shouted at each other the night before repeating in his mind like some sick chant. He glances up at the clock on the wall, which reads 9:45, and winces. He has work in an hour, and after that the rest of the day will be spent in the theater, the very last place he wants to be. It shocks him for a moment that life will go on, with or without him. He’d half expected to lay in bed all day, eating a whole tub of cookie dough ice cream and feeling awful, but life has other plans.
And maybe that’s a good thing. Yes, he misses Blaine, and he wishes that he could fix things, but he can’t pine over his high school boyfriend forever. Except calling him ‘the high-school sweetheart’ makes it sound like it was nothing, just a fling, and it was so much more. Blaine was a perfect boyfriend, yes, but in the long run that hadn’t been the most important thing about them. He was also one of the closest friends Kurt had ever had, and that’s what counted. Kurt tries not to be too much of a hopeless romantic if he can help it (Blaine was always romantic enough for the both of them) but even though he’s mostly grown out of his teenage naiveté, he thinks that, if he still believed in soul mates, Blaine would be the closest thing.
But he’s ruined that, too, probably forever.
Kurt shuts his eyes and takes a long, deep, shaky breath. Then he stands up, and gets ready to face the day.
.
He ignores all phone calls unless they’re work related for the rest of the day. There is a distinct lack of calls from Blaine, but he refuses to think about that. He’s doing fairly well, in his opinion, at keeping his mind off Blaine and his own self-loathing, until it’s almost evening.
Somehow he ends up staying at the theater a little late, because Derek is running behind on one of the costumes and Kurt is one of the few other people here who can actually sew worth a damn, so he’s trapped backstage, alone, with the boy who has a hopeless crush on him. Thankfully, the red-haired boy is quiet tonight, making conversation but letting it fall into a comfortable silence when Kurt decides not to reply. They sit on the floor, finishing the stitching on a particularly large dress, and the work is so mindless that Kurt’s mind wanders all over the place. This, he decides, isn’t a particularly good thing.
“So,” Derek says, jerking Kurt from his thoughts. The red-head looks up at him for a moment, smiles shyly, and them looks back down, continuing his sewing as he talks. “I was just wondering if you might want to get coffee some time.”
Kurt freezes. You can’t be doing this to me, he thinks desperately. Not today of all days. He knew that this was coming, someday, but he’s not prepared for how to reject the boy. “…As in a date?” He blurts out, just to make sure. Smooth, Hummel. Very smooth.
Derek considers that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. If you want. I’d like that. Or it can be just as friends. It’s up to you.” He smiles, either completely calm and composed or doing a very good job at hiding his nervousness. Kurt remembers the day he finally got up the nerve to ask Blaine on a real date, one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life. It had all worked out in his favor, in the end, because Blaine found it ‘cute’ when Kurt was flustered, but it still brings a blush to his cheeks thinking about the ordeal. Derek isn’t like that. Nothing fazes him. “I think I’d like to be your friend either way, if we aren’t already. I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you don’t like me so much.” He blushes a little, and somehow Kurt feels even worse than he already does. He has been cold to the other boy, perhaps overtly so, but he hadn’t intended for it to go that far. He doesn’t like his habit of sleeping around, is the problem, and it would be so easy to like Derek, and Kurt doesn’t want to hurt someone so kind.
“I would love to be friends,” he says, a little surprised to find that it’s one hundred percent true. “But I… I can’t go on a date with you. I’m sorry.”
Derek just nods, the smile on his face still big and bright and genuine. “Okay. Friends is great.” He goes back to sewing, as if the conversation hadn’t been a big deal at all, like they’d just been talking about the weather. Kurt gapes at him.
“How do you do it?” He blurts out.
Derek glances up again. “Hm?”
“How do you stay so… so happy? Even when nothing goes your way, you just bounce right back. How do you manage it?”
“I… huh.” Derek looks more bemused than anything else. “I guess I just don’t let the bad stuff get to me. Even when everything sucks, I remember that it’ll all be okay in the end. I just look for the bright side in everything, and it makes the bad stuff not so bad. For instance: I really like you, you already knew that - but I know you’re in love with someone else. Being friends is just as good as having a boyfriend - well, actually, I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I’m guessing it’s just as good - so it’s okay. I just don’t let myself stay sad.” He shrugs.
“What I wouldn’t give to be able to do that,” Kurt mumbles.
“You can!”
“I’ve wrecked everything for myself. I don’t think I can see the bright side of that.” He frowns. “Wait. What makes you think I’m in love with someone else?”
The redhead smiles knowingly. “At the bar yesterday. When you met up with that Blaine boy. You smiled at him. It was the first time I’ve ever seen you smile for real. I bet he’s the only one who’s ever seen that smile.”
Kurt looks away, sighing. They’ve both forgotten their sewing, now. He’s not sure why he’s opening up to the other boy, but if they’re friends now, he supposes that this is the first step. “Yes, well, that didn’t last long.”
“Yeah, I heard you fighting. Sorry.” Derek hesitates. “If it helps, he smiled at you the same way. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. I bet you could still fix things, if you hurry.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you have to lose?”
Kurt remains silent for a while, watching Derek’s tiny hands make quick work of the costume. As the other boy is finishing up, Kurt stands. “I… I don’t have anything to lose. I think I have to go.”
Derek grins. “Good luck, Kurt.”
He pauses just as he’s about to leave. “Maybe when we get coffee I can give you some tips on how to fix your hair,” he says, and somehow the red-head’s smile grows even wider.
“You can teach me how to dress.” He gestures at the oversized, lumpy green sweater he’s wearing and giggles. “I guess I’m not really good at this whole gay thing yet.”
“Deal.”
“Now get out of here and get your man back.”
.
“Hello?”
“Blaine? It’s Kurt.”
“...why are you calling me? Are you okay?”
“No, not really. Listen. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me or ever see me again. I deserve even worse. So it’s okay if you just hang up right now.”
“What is it?”
“If you want to talk… or want an explanation… meet me at my apartment building tonight.”
.
He’s sitting on the ground and leaning up against the brick wall of the apartment building, the bag he always seems to carry lying next to him, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in his lap. He opens his eyes when Kurt stops in front of him, and Kurt can’t be sure, but it looks like he might have been crying. He’s let his stubble grow out just a little more, probably didn’t bother to shave that morning, but it’s actually somewhat sexy. Their eyes meet, but Blaine quickly looks away.
Kurt lets himself smile, just the tiniest bit. It seems like neither of them are sure who should be more angry at the other. He reaches out and takes Blaine’s hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world (and maybe it is), pulling him up. Blaine stares at him for a moment, not understanding, and Kurt nods at the door. He lets go of the other boy’s hand and goes inside, silently giving Blaine the choice to follow him if he wants. He’s not surprised when he hears Blaine’s footsteps behind him a few moments later.
The elevator ride up to Kurt’s apartment is, to this day, one of the strangest and most awkward experiences he can remember. They don’t speak. They stay on opposite sides of the small space, and Kurt sneaks little looks at Blaine every chance he gets. He’s probably not being as subtle as he thinks (Blaine used to tease him about how very un-subtle he is), but he doesn’t care so much.
He catches Blaine looking at him, once, as well, but he doesn’t have a chance to acknowledge it before the elevator dings and the door opens. “This is it,” Kurt murmurs as they pause in front of the door to his apartment. This is where it all changes, for better or worse. He takes a deep breath, unlocks the door, and steps inside.
Kurt takes Blaine’s jacket and hangs it up along with his own, and Blaine sets his overstuffed bag down on the floor as he steps into the living room. He just stands there for a few moments, looking around at everything, soaking it all in. “Nice place,” he says after a while. Kurt snorts.
“You don’t have to be so polite, I know what it is.”
“Okay, let’s just say only your flair for design could make this place look this good.”
Kurt smiles softly. “Sit down, if you want. Can I get you something to drink, or…?”
“I’m fine.”
He brings him a glass of water anyway, just because his voice sounds dry and rough, and he drinks it all, murmuring his thanks. Kurt sits on the opposite end of the couch, tense and uneasy.
“I just need to say-“
“Blaine, I-“ They both stop, and Kurt is relieved to see the hint of a smile on Blaine’s face. “Go ahead.”
“I was out of line last night, I shouldn’t have said those things, you were right, and I’m so sorry.” It all comes out in a breathless rush. “I’m just… still bitter, I guess.”
Kurt nods. “I’m sorry too. For everything. I mean, yes, you were being awful, but I deserved it.”
“Kurt, you weren’t -“
“Stop. I know how I was acting. I’ve been just as much of an asshole as you, even more so - you don’t have to act like I didn’t hurt you.” He interrupts, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can fully work through what he’s saying.
Blaine hesitates. “Well. Yeah.” He laughs softly, and Kurt can’t help but laugh, too, a little. He stares down at his hands, biting his lip, and unsure where to go from here. He hadn’t actually had, you know, anything resembling a plan when he’d decided to try to talk to Blaine again. All he knows is that he has to do it, has to try to fix things, whatever the outcome might be. But what to say? What does he even want from all of this? If he were in Blaine’s shoes, what would he want himself to say?
The truth.
“I was scared.” He can’t bring his voice beyond a hoarse whisper. He feels Blaine’s eyes locked on him, looking through him, but he can’t return the look.
“Scared?”
“It was really stupid. And it in no way makes any of this okay. But yes, I was scared. Terrified. Of you. Of us.” Blaine doesn’t reply, and Kurt goes on. “I… feelings come to me so easily, you know? I was a little bit in love with you the very second I saw you - I told my old teacher I loved you before I told you - and I knew that it was too fast, even for me. I fell for you so quickly, and I thought that maybe I’d get over you just as fast. Because that’s just how I am.” He takes a deep breath, and continues, his voice a little stronger now. “But I didn’t. I just fell harder and harder.”
“Kurt, you don’t have to explain anything if you don’t-“
“Yes I do. For myself, too. Because I meant it, last night. When I said that I didn’t know why I broke up with you.” He finally dares to look at Blaine, meeting his eyes and not looking away. It’s really, really hard, but their gazes lock, and Kurt finds himself memorizing the color and shape of Blaine’s eyes all over again.
Blaine frowns. “And now you do.”
“No.” Kurt forces himself to laugh. “No, not really. I guess that there wasn’t one particular reason, just a whole bunch of stupid things all added up.” He slumps down into the couch just a little, pulling his legs up underneath him after slipping off his shoes, and turns to face Blaine. “Because high school relationships never last, right? I mean, we were so much more than that, we were… hell, I don’t know what we were, but it was always so much more than that. But then you started talking about California instead of New York, and I just...”
“I would have followed you, Kurt. Anywhere. You just had to ask.”
“I know. And I would have done the same. But I didn’t want you to have to, you know? And I just kept thinking about it, it kept me awake every night, and I think I got it in my head that you would be better off without me. That this wasn’t what you really wanted. That you could find another boy you loved more than me and you would be happy.”
Blaine bites his lip, glancing away for a moment and rubbing at his tired, red-rimmed eyes with the palm of his hand. “I wanted to stay friends.”
“Me too,” Kurt replies quickly. “Oh my god, me too. I just… we fought, and then I didn’t know what to say, and I thought it was too late… that’s such a stupid excuse, I know.”
“I’ve spent the last three years trying so hard to hate you,” Blaine says quietly. “To convince myself that maybe I am better off without you.”
“I’m sorry -“
“But I gave up on that,” he continues, ignoring Kurt’s interruption. “And when it comes down to it… yeah, I figured that we’d probably never see each other again, and I’d never fully come to terms with that. But I did come to terms with the fact that…” he stops, choking on the words, then breathing deeply and continuing. “That… that part of me is always going to love you, in some way, whether you return those feelings or not. As best friends - whenever someone asks me who my best friend is, I still think of you, did you know that? Or as more than a friend… or as a chance I had and lost. I meant it, when I said forever.” It all comes out in a breathless tumble of words, and Kurt feels his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his throat tightening.
“You know…” Kurt tries to keep his eyes on Blaine as he speaks, but it’s hard when his voice wobbles and he feels like he’s going to dissolve into a puddle of long-overdue tears any second. “At first I thought I was okay. I thought I’d get over it, because you were just my high-school sweetheart, right, and that never works out.” He can’t help it. His vision blurs and he feels hot, wet tears rolling down his cheeks, and his next words come out in a shaky sob. “I thought I’d be okay with that, after a little while. But I never expected to love you so much, or that I’d keep on loving you for the rest of my life.”
Before he knows what’s happening, Blaine reaches over and takes Kurt’s hand, entwining their fingers like they still do this every day, drawing him just that little bit closer. His hands feel familiar, but different at the same time. They’re calloused now, a little rougher, musician’s hands. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the paler boy’s knuckles, murmuring “Shh, shh,” as Kurt cries softly. It’s stupid, because Kurt feels like he is the last person to deserve comfort - he’s the one who hurt Blaine, not the other way around - but Blaine is just like this, a shoulder to cry on to anyone who might need it. Even though he’s angry (has every reason to be, really), he slips right into this role, becoming what he was made for: Kurt’s shelter in a storm, his anchor. We were made for each other, he remembers Blaine whispering into his hear late one night. How could Kurt have given that up?
“You deserve so much better than me,” Kurt mumbled, wiping away his tears. “And I’ve never said that about anyone, so you should feel special.”
Blaine smiles, but remains silent a little longer, continuing to stroke the soft skin of Kurt’s hand. He moves closer - Kurt can feel the warmth from his body, and sucks in his breath when Blaine’s leg pressed against his. “Yeah, maybe,” he says softly, when he finally does speak. Kurt stares at him. “But I don’t want someone better.” Their eyes meet, and stay locked when Blaine lifts his hand and presses his lips against it. It’s so much more intimate than Kurt had thought such a simple gesture could be, and his breath catches in the back of his throat at the look in Blaine’s eyes. A look that says maybe; maybe they’re on the road to making things okay.
“First things first,” Blaine says. “Because nothing, nothing is more important to me than this. Friends? Best friends?”
“Yes.” Kurt nods without hesitation. As if he could possibly say no to this. “Yes, yes.” Just like that, a weight lifts from his chest. “I think I’d take you any way I could get at this point.”
“Glad we’re finally on the same page. And second…” He leans in closer, and Kurt can’t stop a gasp from escaping him, his eyes drifting closed when he feels Blaine’s lips pressing feather-light touches against his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, and finally one last chaste kiss on the lips. It’s simple, but Kurt shudders, unconsciously leaning in closer. They’re so close that even after Blaine pulls back - barely an inch or two - their foreheads still touch, and it’s almost like they’re breathing the same air. He’s missed this. He’s missed Blaine.
Even after such a tiny kiss, Blaine’s breath comes heavier. He lifts a hand to cup Kurt’s cheek. “I hope I’m not being too forward,” he murmurs, and while part of Kurt wants to laugh at how formal Blaine can still be sometimes, there’s something in his voice, something ragged around the edges, something broken. So Kurt finds himself squeezing Blaine’s hand tighter and reaching up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“No, god no,” He replies, stealing another quick kiss before either of them can say anything more.
“That’s good.” Blaine laughs, a little, and Kurt imagines that he can feel the sound throughout his entire body. Kissing Blaine, touching Blaine, it’s like… comfort food, in some way. Blaine smells like spices and tastes like thunderstorms, just the way he remembers. And maybe he’ll regret this in the morning, maybe not (he hopes not), but right now Blaine is warm and familiar and all Kurt wants in the entire world.
“I am so in love with you,” he whispers before he realizes what he’s saying. “I always have been, and I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you - I’m sorry -“
“Shh.” Kurt shuts up immediately, focusing instead on how Blaine’s calloused thumb is now stroking his cheek. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’m here, you’re here, and that’s all I care about right now. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”
Kurt breathes deeply, feeling tears sting his eyes again for reasons he can’t describe, but he fights them away. “Are you sure?”
“No.” Kurt blinks, a little surprised, and Blaine laughs again. “I’m not sure of anything. I’m terrified, actually. But I can’t lose you again.”
“You won’t lose me -“ He is cut off by Blaine’s lips on his, slow but thorough. He whimpers - he actually whimpers, like this is the first kiss he’s had in a hundred years, and he thinks it’s kind of pathetic, but Blaine doesn’t seem to mind, reacts pretty well to it, actually, so it can’t be all that bad. He dares to deepen the kiss, just a little, and twists Blaine’s curls around his fingers. He feels like he should be afraid, at least nervous, but he’s not. Maybe he’s scared of the future, of what will come of them in the end, but that doesn’t even matter tonight. Tonight is nothing but the two of them.
They stop to breathe - reluctantly - and Kurt stands up, tugging Blaine along with him. It’s only six feet from the couch to the door of his bedroom, but it feels like miles, and when he steps inside and shuts the door he barely has time to turn around before Blaine presses him up against it, kissing him again, harder this time.
I never thought I’d have this again, Kurt thinks, and the thought makes him want to cry all over again. I never thought I’d have you, see you, touch you -
“Kurt,” Blaine groans, low and deep and hot, his hands on Kurt’s waist and then underneath his shirt, and that small amount of skin on skin is just not enough. Kurt shoves him away long enough to bunch his hands in Blaine’s shirt and tug it over his head, and Blaine does the same to him, ducking his head down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses across Kurt’s chest.
“Ohhhmygod,” Kurt gasps, hands stroking across Blaine’s back and shoulders. He has sex with so many boys, but none of them make him feel the way Blaine does with only a few kisses. “Bed, we should - we should be on the bed,” he says with the last bit of intelligence he can muster.
“Mmm,” Blaine agrees, but he doesn’t move, just reaches down to fumble with Kurt’s belt buckle. He practically growls in frustration, and Kurt takes his hands away, kissing his knuckles lightly before undoing the buckle himself. He kicks off his jeans unceremoniously, watching hungrily as Blaine does the same, and then drags Blaine over to the bed. Kurt lays on his back and wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders as he follows.
Blaine explores him with his hands, somehow gentle and rough at the same time, as if re-memorizing the contours of his body. “So beautiful, Kurt, baby, you’re so beautiful-“ Kurt silences him with a kiss, pulling Blaine down on top on him, and hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, wriggling a little to get them off and moaning as he feels Blaine hard against his hip. When they’re both naked Blaine rolls his hips, just a little, and Kurt groans and pulls him into another kiss.
He feels like if they get any closer he will melt, sink into this beautiful man’s skin and stay there forever. It’s nothing more than muscle memory when one hand tangles in Blaine’s hair - every once in a while tugging on it gently - or when his back arches as Blaine drags his lips across his jutting collarbone, down his chest, sucking hickeys to life on his stomach. Slowly, because they have all the time in the world, Kurt re-learns the rhythm of Blaine’s body, his heartbeat, his breath.
They’re so close together and Kurt can’t bring himself to move farther away, so he can do little more than rock his hips up against Blaine as he grinds down, over and over and over, and it’s not really enough, but it’s already so much that he can barely stand it. He’s sure that he will die right there, gasping Blaine’s name as their skin slides together, and Kurt even revels in the feeling of Blaine’s chest hair and stubble scratching him as they move together - new sensations, but not unwelcome.
“Blaine - oh, oh my god -“ his voice breaks, shatters, and he buries his face into Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine says something too, but it’s muffled - Kurt hears his name, hears Blaine call him ‘baby’ again, but that’s it, and they’re both gasping and breathing and touching and moving and… “Blaine, Blaine, Blaine…”
Blaine managed to get a hand between him, and Kurt throws his head back and cries out when he feels Blaine’s hand against him, can’t help but thrust into the touch. “C’mon, c’mon,” Blaine says, his breath hot in Kurt’s ear, and that’s all Kurt needs - three long strokes of Blaine’s hand and that’s it, it’s over, and Kurt sobs in relief as he comes between them, digging his fingernails into Blaine’s back and holding him tight. Not ten seconds later Blaine shudders and collapses half on top of him, breathing heavily.
They don’t say anything for a long time, but they don’t really need to. There is a calm, serene understanding between them, as Kurt lets his eyes drift shut. Neither of them make much of an effort to move, their limbs entwined. Kurt finds himself rubbing circles on the small of Blaine’s back, while Blaine plants tiny kisses on the faint freckles on his shoulder. They’re gross and sticky and sweaty and Kurt wouldn’t move if his life depended on it.
“You okay?” Blaine mumbles, after what could be hours or mere minutes, but Kurt’s only answer is a low “Hmmm” as he nuzzles into Blaine’s neck, drifting off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep he’s had in years.
.
He’s only half awake when he feels Blaine slipping out of the bed, kissing his forehead lightly, and he falls back to sleep immediately. When he opens his eyes again the sky outside his window is a little lighter, and his bed is painfully empty.
Kurt rolls over and stares at the space where Blaine is supposed to be, confused and a little hurt, sure for a moment that Blaine has left for good - until he hears a familiar voice, faint, coming from some other room in the tiny apartment. His frown turns into a smile, and he gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers and the first t-shirt he sees - not even bothering to fix his messy hair, he’ll get dressed for real once he’s had a shower - and makes his way to the kitchen.
Blaine is there, standing in front of the stove and cooking something, but Kurt can’t see what it is. He’s dressed in the t-shirt he wore the day before and a random pair of Kurt’s pajama pants, which hang deliciously low on his hips. His hair sticks out in all directions, which is adorable. Rachel is leaning against the counter next to him, a mug of tea in her hands and a smile on her face.
“Obviously we wouldn’t make you pay rent until you find a job,” Rachel says, and it’s clear that Kurt has walked into the middle of a discussion. “We’d be happy to help you get back on your feet.”
“Well, my plans aren’t set in stone just yet,” Blaine says. “But… that would be amazing, Rachel. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Rachel sips at her tea. “You make Kurt happy. Speaking of which…” She raises her eyebrows. “I assume you’ve sorted things out?”
Blaine pretends to pay close attention to whatever he’s cooking. “What makes you think that?”
“Please.”
A soft smile lights up his face. “I really do love him.” He says quietly, almost reverently. And it hits Kurt, then, that this is what was missing. Not Blaine being his boyfriend, but Blaine being there at all. This shithole of an apartment finally feels sort of like home, with the three of them there. The way it was always supposed to be before California and their own stupidity got in the way.
He knows, logically, that one night (hopefully the first night of many) with Blaine will not turn his life around. He still won’t be happy one hundred percent of the time - he knows, now, that one person can’t make that happen. He has to make an effort, too.
But maybe, just maybe, Blaine can push him in the right direction.
Rachel sees him watching (he’s pretty sure she knew he was there all along) and waves at him, calling out far more loudly than necessary (because some things never change) “Good morning!” Blaine turns his head, grinning when he sees Kurt. Kurt’s heart melts a little. He can’t help it.
“Hi,” Blaine says, his cheeks turning just a little bit red. “Um. I made omelets.”
Kurt steps forward wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist from behind, resting his cheek on Blaine’s shoulder. “He followed me home,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes at Rachel, who giggles. “Can I keep him?”
“I’m not a puppy!” Blaine protests.
“Yes, you are.” Rachel says.
“…yeah, I am.”
Kurt can’t believe how right everything feels.
“How long can you stay?” He murmurs into Blaine’s ear.
“Forever, if you want.” Blaine replies without a second of hesitation. Kurt holds him even tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, and Blaine takes his hands and entwines their fingers.
If Kurt could choose a single moment to live in forever, he would undoubtedly choose this one.