fic: ghost (prologue/?)
pairing: Kurt / Cooper + Kurt / Blaine
word count: just under 800 words (this part)
rating: R (for now, at least)
summary: when Kurt dies he takes a secret to his grave, one that only Cooper knows. should he let it out and betray the one man he ever loved, or risk himself to keep it in?
a/n: thanks to my love, Cass, for looking over this for me *u* title taken from the song 'Ghost' by Ingrid Michaelson. i was listening to it as i was mulling over the idea, and then writing, and found the lyrics quite fitting.
I'm a ghost, haunting these halls
Climbing the walls that I never knew were there
And I'm lost, broken down the middle of my hard heart
I'm broken down the middle of my hard heart
You know you make me a ghost
~
The dim sunlight was hovering outside their curtains, but they don’t let it in. They don’t let anyone into their secret world, pieced together under the mess of Cooper’s sheets, tangled around their sweaty bodies.
Kurt was laying on his back and Cooper was tracing the triangle of his stomach with his hand, just light enough to tickle. Kurt crinkled his nose at the gesture but didn’t tell him to stop and Cooper didn’t. He fluttered kisses up his neck, relishing in the soft skin under his mouth. Kurt was so gorgeous like this - gorgeous always, but Cooper liked these moments the best.
When it’s just the two of them.
No Blaine.
No anybody.
When they don’t have to think about what’s right or what’s wrong, what’s meant to be, and what they want it to be.
Kurt will leave when the sun spills between the fabrics, reminding them that they have to get up and face the day in the end. He’ll go back to Blaine and to Rachel and their fucking cat and his college degree, because that’s the life he chose for himself.
And Cooper will stay here and remember that he can wait for him always but one day Kurt won’t come back.
Because that’s how the story is supposed to go - Kurt returns to Blaine, to their castle and his perfect prince charming.
(Cooper had never been one for fairytales).
--
It happened on a day just like any other, and Cooper was grateful for that. Who wanted to wake up with storm clouds brewing, thunderclaps sounding a solemn message “today your lover will die”? Who would get out of bed?
Cooper got out of bed. He woke, as he always did, a few beats before his alarm, catching the off button with practiced precision. He pulled off his blankets, and padded quickly across the carpet to the bathroom. He showered, stared at the same blank tiles and tried hard not to think of him. He slid a familiar hand down the path of his stomach, unable to stop thinking about him as he took himself into his hands, jerking off under the warmth of the shower. He rinsed himself off and turned off the taps.
He dressed and ate breakfast and went to work. The hours fell by as they always did, rolling in their usual unsteady succession; quick beats of unimportant events forgotten before they were even over; then the languid, lazy hours that never seemed to end. All of this was normal.
Around four he got a call from his brother. This was not entirely normal, but nothing to worry about. It had been what, two weeks since his last call? Blaine had been busy, and so had he. As such, it was with a smile that he took the call, happy to hear from him.
“Blainers,” he said cheerily into the receiver, “how are you?”
“Coop,” Blaine’s voice replied, sounding quite unlike his own. And just like that, that one syllable, stretched across his name, so broken, so unsteady - Cooper felt the blood drain out of him and his bones felt suddenly so cold under his skin. His body’s alarm began to blare, his breath quickening, the patter of his heart ticking too fast like an over-wound clock.
“Blaine,” he breathed, “what’s going on?” a low, distressed sound came down the receiver and Cooper worried his lower lip. He hadn’t heard Blaine sound so upset in a long time...
“It’s Kurt.”
And instantly, with just the sound of his name, something inside of him shattered painfully, making him jolt up in his seat, his panic almost dizzying. No... god, please no...
“Blaine,” Cooper begged, “what’s wrong with Kurt?”
“I’m at the hospital,” Blaine choked thickly, “he’s-he’s...”
“He’s what, Blaine?” Cooper snapped. Fuck, fuck, no- “What’s wrong with Kurt?”
“He’s gone, Coop.”
The phone slipped from his shaking fingers, smacking against the carpet with a dull thud. Cooper ignored it as he stood up from his chair; ignored the stares from his fellow employees as he stormed out of the office; ignored his coat as he stepped out into the icy streets, hailing down a cab to get him to the hospital as fast as he could.
Once he got into the cab he curled in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest, ignoring the stares the driver shot him in the review mirror. He didn’t care what he looked like right now, didn’t care about any of it.
It couldn’t be true - he couldn’t be gone.
Not when Cooper needed him.
--
tbc