There Comes You 3/7
Title: There Comes You
Author: lovedarrencriss (tumblr) or escape4ever16 (LJ)
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: A notice: I wrote this story before Cory's death and in this story Finn stayed in the army. Finn does not die in this story. That being said, there is an emotional moment in this story where Kurt is shaken up by the idea of Finn possibly dying in the line of fire. Again, I did not write this after Cory's death. I have re-considered many things, but I've decided not to change what I wrote. It may be more emotional now, than I originally intended, but I'd like to keep that small part in there for the sake of my story.
Word Count: 15,427
Summary: Blaine Anderson has always worked backstage, but he's got a little black book full of secrets and one of them is that he's in love with the star of the show; Kurt Hummel. There's only one problem. Kurt is already engaged to a handsome lawyer-to-be. When Santana steps in to play matchmaker things go upside down. Kurt re-discovers himself and Blaine treads a fine line between just friends and something more. Also, Papa Bear Hummel always knows the right thing to say.
Author's Note: A HUGE thanks to my lovely beta chaseandcatch (livejournal) who did some fantastic work in a very short amount of time! <3 And I couldn't have been more fortunate than to have dorathebrit (livejournal) animateglee (tumblr) as my artist who made my story come to life before my eyes! Thank you so much! <3
Blaine wakes up with a gasp, sputtering as freezing cold water splashes over his face. The cold seeps into his bones, leaving him a shivering, hungover mess.
“Good morning, Sunshine!” Santana says with a too-sweet smile.
“What the hell, Santana!” he yells, sitting up and wiping the water from his eyes.
“Wake up, we have to be at rehearsal in twenty minutes,” she says, “and you better not make me late.” Without another word she turns on her heel and makes her way out of Blaine’s room, leaving him soaking wet and freezing cold.
It only takes a couple seconds for Blaine to realize how badly his head is pounding, groaning before his stomach lurches and quickly racing to the bathroom, holding his hand over his mouth.
After a quick shower, a second stop at the toilet, a long visit with his toothbrush, three glasses of water and two Advil later Blaine meets Santana in his tiny kitchen, squinting at the light and glaring at her.
“Oh, stop that. You look pitiful,” Santana says before handing him a cup of coffee. “Don’t expect me to do this every day; unlike you, I have a social life.”
Blaine decides it best not to answer because if he does he might just end up choking Santana. “Care to tell me why you so graciously decided to greet me this morning?” Blaine asks teeth clenching together in annoyance. “How did you even get in?”
Santana sets her coffee cup in the sink before moving out of the kitchen and heading towards the front door.
“Where are you going?” he yells after her, frowning, confused.
“Rehearsal!” She calls back.
Blaine fumbles for a second before grabbing his thermos for the first time and pouring the coffee into it. He screws the cap on and grabs his bag on his way out the door, hurrying to catch up to Santana.
“What the hell is going on, how did you get in my house?” he asks again as he catches up to her.
Santana sets a brisk speed walk to the theater and doesn’t say a word to Blaine the whole time, making his frustration grow. It isn’t until they are about to reach the door to the theater that Blaine finally has had enough. He reaches out and grabs her by the forearm, twirling her around to face him.
“Answer me, Santana.” he asks firmly. “What were you doing in my apartment?”
Santana glances down at where Blaine is gripping her arm and for once he doesn’t back down and let go of her arm and apologize like he would normally. Santana isn’t like other girls and he is getting fed up with her games. She grins and leans in closer to Blaine, like she’s about to tell him a secret.
“I think a better question,” she says slowly, “is what do you remember from last night?”
Leaving Blaine standing on the sidewalk in shock, Santana tugs her arm free and disappears inside the theater.
There’s a sinking feeling in Blaine’s gut. He can’t remember anything after the second shot Santana had given
him.
Rehearsal is absolute hell that day. Santana avoids him and won’t tell him anything and every time Blaine looks at Kurt he seems to be giggling at him. It’s driving him mad.
Blaine tries to corner Santana around their lunch break, but instead Kurt takes that opportunity to approach him.
“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt says with a smile, lips curling up in such a way that Blaine can’t help feeling like Kurt knows he doesn’t know what happened the night before.
Blaine scratches the back of his neck and gives Kurt a smile, “Hey, Kurt. How’s it going?”
“It’s pretty good, I’m surprised you haven’t been singing along to the songs this morning,” Kurt says with a small laugh, eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Ah, yeah me too-wait, what?” Blaine says as he actually registers Kurt’s words.
Kurt laughs and it’s then that he gets tugged away by one of the other actors to go eat lunch.
“No, I’m not kidding. Kurt, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Blaine calls after him, but Kurt just laughs some more before he disappearing through the door backstage. “Santana!” he yells.
“Calm your tits, I’m right here, Shorty,” Santana says from behind Blaine.
Blaine whirls around. “What was Kurt talking about? Why was he laughing? And why were you in my apartment
this morning?”
“Come on, I’ll take you to lunch,” she says calmly, leading Blaine out of the theater and into the busy city streets.
“Santana, please, tell me what happened,” he tries to reason with her, surely there is some kind of sympathy in her somewhere, “You owe me that much.”
“I told you to calm down. I’ll tell you what you did.” She is clearly enjoying having so much power over Blaine.
Unfortunately for Blaine, that means waiting until Santana had ordered and then received her taco salad.
“Will you tell me now?”
“Whinyness is a very unattractive quality,” she says instead.
“Santana.”
“Karaoke.”
“What about it?” Blaine frowns, tiring of the young actress’s games.
“This is going to be a lot harder than I thought if you can’t keep up.” Santana continues, “Karaoke. You did karaoke.”
Blaine pales and leans in closer. “Are you serious?” he whispers.
“Because I would drag this out all day just to lie to you,” Santana says.
Blaine glares at Santana.
“Honestly, you sang karaoke, that’s what happened.”
“What did I sing?”
When Santana smirks Blaine immediately groans and lets his head fall to the table with a thump before groaning and rubbing his forehead, the headache he still had from earlier didn’t help anything.
“Well it started with Katy Perry and it ended with Back Street Boys. Do you need to know what happened in the middle?” Santana asks with a grin, taking a bite of her food.
Blaine groans and makes himself eat some fries, hoping the greasy food he ordered will help settle his stomach.
“How bad was it?” he asks a moment later.
“Your impersonations would’ve been spot on if you weren’t almost falling off the stage every other verse.”
“Why didn’t anyone stop me?” he asks, horrified that his friends and co-workers would just let him do something like that.
“Oh, you specifically told us all not to take your mic away like Kanye did to Taylor,” she says, “And you hogged the mic for as long as you could, it was quite the show. Kurt loved it.”
Blaine moans and looks at Santana helplessly. “What must he think of me now? God, I ruined it.”
Santana laughs at him, and just as Blaine is about to tell Santana off for being so rude she speaks again. “You didn’t ruin anything. My plan worked,” She says, smirking. “Guess what, Blainers? Last night, Kurt noticed you for the first
time in two years. I put you on his radar, so you’re welcome.”
“Wait, what?”
Santana sets her fork down and leans over the table towards Blaine. “Before last night all you’d ever been to Kurt was that random co-worker. Now, he’ll always remember you as that awesome co-worker that knows how to belt out a number when he’s hammered.”
“And that’s a step up?” Blaine asks.
“Trust me,” she says. “I’m gonna help you get Hummel, but I need less resistance here.”
“Why would you do that? I thought you were friends with Kurt.”
Santana was turning out to be far more complex than Blaine had ever imagined.
“I am.” Blaine raises an eyebrow, and Santana continues. “Which is why I know that Mr. Lawyer is not right for him. They’ll never work out. He’s just too afraid to go after someone that could make him really happy; you’ve been in love with him for practically a decade and as far as I know, you haven’t even tried to get yourself a distraction so obviously you aren’t giving up on this.”
“Wow Santana,” Blaine says, surprise laced in his tone. “That’s actually really nice.”
“I’m not a heartless bitch all the time, thank you very much,” she snaps.
“I didn’t mean - Just - thank you, Santana. I think you’re actually a really nice friend,” Blaine says gently, not used to calling people his friend.
“Yeah, well I’m tired of watching you pining after him all the time,” She says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her fork again, but not before she glances over at Blaine and gives him a tiny smile that softens her words. “This is mostly so that I don’t have to watch you look like a kicked puppy.”
Blaine can’t be sure, but he has a feeling that Santana is going to become one of his best friends.
***
Two more weeks pass in a similar fashion.
Kurt invites Blaine to go out with him and rest of the cast for dinner, drinks and sometimes just a walk around the city and Santana inevitably finds ways (most of the time involving alcohol in some form) to get him to loosen up and be more forward than he usually would be. He doesn’t exactly hit on Kurt, but he is certainly more comfortable talking to him.
He learns more about Kurt in those two weeks than he ever had in the two years that they’d worked together.
Blaine finds himself opening up to Kurt, about more than just the superficial things that you say when making conversation. He tells Kurt about the time he broke his arm when he was six; how he almost never sees his aunt because she’s always traveling and seeing the world, but she’s one of Blaine’s absolute favorite human beings in the entire world. He even tells Kurt about the bullying in middle school, and how it got better when he transferred to a private school for his freshman year of high school.
They bond over their respective stories and Blaine starts to see Kurt in a whole new light. It isn’t just about wanting to with him any more. It’s about being there for him because he wants Blaine to be there. They’re friends by the end of those two weeks.
Blaine’s never had a best friend. Not really. But he thinks Kurt is his.
So when Santana keeps trying to get him to make a move, Blaine puts his foot down. Santana fumes and rants, but Blaine explains himself, and she calms down.
“You really love him,” she says one evening, realization finally setting in.
“Yeah, I do,” Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat and nods, “And even if I’m just a friend to him for the rest of our lives, I’d rather be that than someone who tried to make a move on him and lost him forever. At least this way I can see him.”
Santana doesn’t bother Blaine about it again and Blaine has never felt so thankful in his life. He also doesn’t think he’s ever had so many close friends in his life.
Blaine thinks that’s kind of awesome.
***
Days pass and Blaine spends his free time hanging out with Kurt and Santana. They chat and joke with each other like they’ve been doing it for years; Santana even comes over to his apartment a few times a week to eat dinner with him. It helps that they have mostly the same schedule.
Kurt joins them occasionally although sometimes he has to go home to meet up with Cayden.
Cayden doesn’t come up in conversation between him and Blaine a lot. Blaine never brings him up, and Kurt never offers up more than the occasional update on how the wedding plans are going. Somehow, Blaine thinks Kurt knows that Blaine doesn’t want to know about the wedding plans, and he doesn’t want to question it, so they leave it alone.
Blaine knows that Cayden knows about him, though - obviously, they’ve met each other, but aside from that Blaine knows that Cayden knows Kurt hangs out with Blaine a lot more in recent days.
Blaine can’t quite get rid of the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when Kurt talks to Cayden on the phone and says ‘I’m with Blaine.’
So maybe his relationship with Kurt isn’t the healthiest for him, but like he said, he’d rather deal with unrequited love than having Kurt hate him.
He ends up putting all his hidden feelings into the little black book he hauls around with him everywhere. Slowly and surely, the pages fill up with phrases and lines and many more notes. Kurt even asks about the book one day, while they’re having coffee before rehearsal.
“What’s that?” he says, placing his coffee on the table, sitting down across from Blaine.
Blaine fumbles around for a moment, almost dropping his pencil as he hurries to close the little book. He hadn’t seen Kurt walking towards their table and had been trying to squeeze in a phrase that had been running through his head all morning.
“N-nothing!” he says quickly.
Kurt tilts his head to the side skeptically; he knows Blaine can’t resist that face.
He sighs and relaxes a little. “It’s just a- a song book.”
“Song book?” Kurt asks, eyes lighting up in interest. “You write songs?”
“Sometimes.” Blaine says hesitantly.
“Are they any good?” he teases, eyes bright and teasing.
God, Blaine’s so in love that it hurts.
He rolls his eyes and reaches out to shove Kurt’s shoulder a little. “How sensitive of you.”
They bicker back and forth on the topic light-heartedly all the way back to the theater.
“Come on, Blaine, let me hear one? I know you have a good voice,” Kurt pleads as they walk inside the heated theater.
Blaine’s mind flashes to the stanzas of lyrics all dedicated to describing Kurt’s eyes, and he flushes and shakes his
head. “Maybe some other time,” he offers, hoping Kurt will drop it.
Luckily, he does, but not completely. “I’ll get you to sing me some Blaine Anderson originals one day!”
The corner of Blaine’s mouth lifts up in a small smile as he watches Kurt bounce away to the stage.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says, softly, once Kurt’s out of hearing distance.
Oh, he’s so screwed.
Author: lovedarrencriss (tumblr) or escape4ever16 (LJ)
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: A notice: I wrote this story before Cory's death and in this story Finn stayed in the army. Finn does not die in this story. That being said, there is an emotional moment in this story where Kurt is shaken up by the idea of Finn possibly dying in the line of fire. Again, I did not write this after Cory's death. I have re-considered many things, but I've decided not to change what I wrote. It may be more emotional now, than I originally intended, but I'd like to keep that small part in there for the sake of my story.
Word Count: 15,427
Summary: Blaine Anderson has always worked backstage, but he's got a little black book full of secrets and one of them is that he's in love with the star of the show; Kurt Hummel. There's only one problem. Kurt is already engaged to a handsome lawyer-to-be. When Santana steps in to play matchmaker things go upside down. Kurt re-discovers himself and Blaine treads a fine line between just friends and something more. Also, Papa Bear Hummel always knows the right thing to say.
Author's Note: A HUGE thanks to my lovely beta chaseandcatch (livejournal) who did some fantastic work in a very short amount of time! <3 And I couldn't have been more fortunate than to have dorathebrit (livejournal) animateglee (tumblr) as my artist who made my story come to life before my eyes! Thank you so much! <3
Blaine wakes up with a gasp, sputtering as freezing cold water splashes over his face. The cold seeps into his bones, leaving him a shivering, hungover mess.
“Good morning, Sunshine!” Santana says with a too-sweet smile.
“What the hell, Santana!” he yells, sitting up and wiping the water from his eyes.
“Wake up, we have to be at rehearsal in twenty minutes,” she says, “and you better not make me late.” Without another word she turns on her heel and makes her way out of Blaine’s room, leaving him soaking wet and freezing cold.
It only takes a couple seconds for Blaine to realize how badly his head is pounding, groaning before his stomach lurches and quickly racing to the bathroom, holding his hand over his mouth.
After a quick shower, a second stop at the toilet, a long visit with his toothbrush, three glasses of water and two Advil later Blaine meets Santana in his tiny kitchen, squinting at the light and glaring at her.
“Oh, stop that. You look pitiful,” Santana says before handing him a cup of coffee. “Don’t expect me to do this every day; unlike you, I have a social life.”
Blaine decides it best not to answer because if he does he might just end up choking Santana. “Care to tell me why you so graciously decided to greet me this morning?” Blaine asks teeth clenching together in annoyance. “How did you even get in?”
Santana sets her coffee cup in the sink before moving out of the kitchen and heading towards the front door.
“Where are you going?” he yells after her, frowning, confused.
“Rehearsal!” She calls back.
Blaine fumbles for a second before grabbing his thermos for the first time and pouring the coffee into it. He screws the cap on and grabs his bag on his way out the door, hurrying to catch up to Santana.
“What the hell is going on, how did you get in my house?” he asks again as he catches up to her.
Santana sets a brisk speed walk to the theater and doesn’t say a word to Blaine the whole time, making his frustration grow. It isn’t until they are about to reach the door to the theater that Blaine finally has had enough. He reaches out and grabs her by the forearm, twirling her around to face him.
“Answer me, Santana.” he asks firmly. “What were you doing in my apartment?”
Santana glances down at where Blaine is gripping her arm and for once he doesn’t back down and let go of her arm and apologize like he would normally. Santana isn’t like other girls and he is getting fed up with her games. She grins and leans in closer to Blaine, like she’s about to tell him a secret.
“I think a better question,” she says slowly, “is what do you remember from last night?”
Leaving Blaine standing on the sidewalk in shock, Santana tugs her arm free and disappears inside the theater.
There’s a sinking feeling in Blaine’s gut. He can’t remember anything after the second shot Santana had given
him.
Rehearsal is absolute hell that day. Santana avoids him and won’t tell him anything and every time Blaine looks at Kurt he seems to be giggling at him. It’s driving him mad.
Blaine tries to corner Santana around their lunch break, but instead Kurt takes that opportunity to approach him.
“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt says with a smile, lips curling up in such a way that Blaine can’t help feeling like Kurt knows he doesn’t know what happened the night before.
Blaine scratches the back of his neck and gives Kurt a smile, “Hey, Kurt. How’s it going?”
“It’s pretty good, I’m surprised you haven’t been singing along to the songs this morning,” Kurt says with a small laugh, eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Ah, yeah me too-wait, what?” Blaine says as he actually registers Kurt’s words.
Kurt laughs and it’s then that he gets tugged away by one of the other actors to go eat lunch.
“No, I’m not kidding. Kurt, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Blaine calls after him, but Kurt just laughs some more before he disappearing through the door backstage. “Santana!” he yells.
“Calm your tits, I’m right here, Shorty,” Santana says from behind Blaine.
Blaine whirls around. “What was Kurt talking about? Why was he laughing? And why were you in my apartment
this morning?”
“Come on, I’ll take you to lunch,” she says calmly, leading Blaine out of the theater and into the busy city streets.
“Santana, please, tell me what happened,” he tries to reason with her, surely there is some kind of sympathy in her somewhere, “You owe me that much.”
“I told you to calm down. I’ll tell you what you did.” She is clearly enjoying having so much power over Blaine.
Unfortunately for Blaine, that means waiting until Santana had ordered and then received her taco salad.
“Will you tell me now?”
“Whinyness is a very unattractive quality,” she says instead.
“Santana.”
“Karaoke.”
“What about it?” Blaine frowns, tiring of the young actress’s games.
“This is going to be a lot harder than I thought if you can’t keep up.” Santana continues, “Karaoke. You did karaoke.”
Blaine pales and leans in closer. “Are you serious?” he whispers.
“Because I would drag this out all day just to lie to you,” Santana says.
Blaine glares at Santana.
“Honestly, you sang karaoke, that’s what happened.”
“What did I sing?”
When Santana smirks Blaine immediately groans and lets his head fall to the table with a thump before groaning and rubbing his forehead, the headache he still had from earlier didn’t help anything.
“Well it started with Katy Perry and it ended with Back Street Boys. Do you need to know what happened in the middle?” Santana asks with a grin, taking a bite of her food.
Blaine groans and makes himself eat some fries, hoping the greasy food he ordered will help settle his stomach.
“How bad was it?” he asks a moment later.
“Your impersonations would’ve been spot on if you weren’t almost falling off the stage every other verse.”
“Why didn’t anyone stop me?” he asks, horrified that his friends and co-workers would just let him do something like that.
“Oh, you specifically told us all not to take your mic away like Kanye did to Taylor,” she says, “And you hogged the mic for as long as you could, it was quite the show. Kurt loved it.”
Blaine moans and looks at Santana helplessly. “What must he think of me now? God, I ruined it.”
Santana laughs at him, and just as Blaine is about to tell Santana off for being so rude she speaks again. “You didn’t ruin anything. My plan worked,” She says, smirking. “Guess what, Blainers? Last night, Kurt noticed you for the first
time in two years. I put you on his radar, so you’re welcome.”
“Wait, what?”
Santana sets her fork down and leans over the table towards Blaine. “Before last night all you’d ever been to Kurt was that random co-worker. Now, he’ll always remember you as that awesome co-worker that knows how to belt out a number when he’s hammered.”
“And that’s a step up?” Blaine asks.
“Trust me,” she says. “I’m gonna help you get Hummel, but I need less resistance here.”
“Why would you do that? I thought you were friends with Kurt.”
Santana was turning out to be far more complex than Blaine had ever imagined.
“I am.” Blaine raises an eyebrow, and Santana continues. “Which is why I know that Mr. Lawyer is not right for him. They’ll never work out. He’s just too afraid to go after someone that could make him really happy; you’ve been in love with him for practically a decade and as far as I know, you haven’t even tried to get yourself a distraction so obviously you aren’t giving up on this.”
“Wow Santana,” Blaine says, surprise laced in his tone. “That’s actually really nice.”
“I’m not a heartless bitch all the time, thank you very much,” she snaps.
“I didn’t mean - Just - thank you, Santana. I think you’re actually a really nice friend,” Blaine says gently, not used to calling people his friend.
“Yeah, well I’m tired of watching you pining after him all the time,” She says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her fork again, but not before she glances over at Blaine and gives him a tiny smile that softens her words. “This is mostly so that I don’t have to watch you look like a kicked puppy.”
Blaine can’t be sure, but he has a feeling that Santana is going to become one of his best friends.
***
Two more weeks pass in a similar fashion.
Kurt invites Blaine to go out with him and rest of the cast for dinner, drinks and sometimes just a walk around the city and Santana inevitably finds ways (most of the time involving alcohol in some form) to get him to loosen up and be more forward than he usually would be. He doesn’t exactly hit on Kurt, but he is certainly more comfortable talking to him.
He learns more about Kurt in those two weeks than he ever had in the two years that they’d worked together.
Blaine finds himself opening up to Kurt, about more than just the superficial things that you say when making conversation. He tells Kurt about the time he broke his arm when he was six; how he almost never sees his aunt because she’s always traveling and seeing the world, but she’s one of Blaine’s absolute favorite human beings in the entire world. He even tells Kurt about the bullying in middle school, and how it got better when he transferred to a private school for his freshman year of high school.
They bond over their respective stories and Blaine starts to see Kurt in a whole new light. It isn’t just about wanting to with him any more. It’s about being there for him because he wants Blaine to be there. They’re friends by the end of those two weeks.
Blaine’s never had a best friend. Not really. But he thinks Kurt is his.
So when Santana keeps trying to get him to make a move, Blaine puts his foot down. Santana fumes and rants, but Blaine explains himself, and she calms down.
“You really love him,” she says one evening, realization finally setting in.
“Yeah, I do,” Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat and nods, “And even if I’m just a friend to him for the rest of our lives, I’d rather be that than someone who tried to make a move on him and lost him forever. At least this way I can see him.”
Santana doesn’t bother Blaine about it again and Blaine has never felt so thankful in his life. He also doesn’t think he’s ever had so many close friends in his life.
Blaine thinks that’s kind of awesome.
***
Days pass and Blaine spends his free time hanging out with Kurt and Santana. They chat and joke with each other like they’ve been doing it for years; Santana even comes over to his apartment a few times a week to eat dinner with him. It helps that they have mostly the same schedule.
Kurt joins them occasionally although sometimes he has to go home to meet up with Cayden.
Cayden doesn’t come up in conversation between him and Blaine a lot. Blaine never brings him up, and Kurt never offers up more than the occasional update on how the wedding plans are going. Somehow, Blaine thinks Kurt knows that Blaine doesn’t want to know about the wedding plans, and he doesn’t want to question it, so they leave it alone.
Blaine knows that Cayden knows about him, though - obviously, they’ve met each other, but aside from that Blaine knows that Cayden knows Kurt hangs out with Blaine a lot more in recent days.
Blaine can’t quite get rid of the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when Kurt talks to Cayden on the phone and says ‘I’m with Blaine.’
So maybe his relationship with Kurt isn’t the healthiest for him, but like he said, he’d rather deal with unrequited love than having Kurt hate him.
He ends up putting all his hidden feelings into the little black book he hauls around with him everywhere. Slowly and surely, the pages fill up with phrases and lines and many more notes. Kurt even asks about the book one day, while they’re having coffee before rehearsal.
“What’s that?” he says, placing his coffee on the table, sitting down across from Blaine.
Blaine fumbles around for a moment, almost dropping his pencil as he hurries to close the little book. He hadn’t seen Kurt walking towards their table and had been trying to squeeze in a phrase that had been running through his head all morning.
“N-nothing!” he says quickly.
Kurt tilts his head to the side skeptically; he knows Blaine can’t resist that face.
He sighs and relaxes a little. “It’s just a- a song book.”
“Song book?” Kurt asks, eyes lighting up in interest. “You write songs?”
“Sometimes.” Blaine says hesitantly.
“Are they any good?” he teases, eyes bright and teasing.
God, Blaine’s so in love that it hurts.
He rolls his eyes and reaches out to shove Kurt’s shoulder a little. “How sensitive of you.”
They bicker back and forth on the topic light-heartedly all the way back to the theater.
“Come on, Blaine, let me hear one? I know you have a good voice,” Kurt pleads as they walk inside the heated theater.
Blaine’s mind flashes to the stanzas of lyrics all dedicated to describing Kurt’s eyes, and he flushes and shakes his
head. “Maybe some other time,” he offers, hoping Kurt will drop it.
Luckily, he does, but not completely. “I’ll get you to sing me some Blaine Anderson originals one day!”
The corner of Blaine’s mouth lifts up in a small smile as he watches Kurt bounce away to the stage.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says, softly, once Kurt’s out of hearing distance.
Oh, he’s so screwed.