Suicide Boys, Chapter 5 - Plus Art
Blaine reread the text from Kurt again before he put his phone down and went looking for his parents. He found his mother in the dining room, spectacles perched on her nose, a novel held in one hand. She put the book down as he entered and offered him a smile. “Come to say goodnight to your mother?”
“It’s not that late,” Blaine replied, pulling a chair out so he could take a seat opposite her at the table. “Actually, I just wanted to catch you up. Remember that movie night I mentioned?”
“The one with your friend Kurt,” Mrs. Anderson nodded, obviously pleased with the idea that Blaine had friends who liked him enough to invite him over. “On Saturday.”
“Yeah. Well, I just finished talking with him again and we’ve decided it would probably work better if we moved it to Friday. That way I can just ride home with him after school and you and dad don’t have to drive in to Lima to drop me off...” Blaine trailed off, hoping it would be an easy yes.
“How would you be getting home the next day?” she asked.
“Kurt said he’d drive me on Saturday. I’d be home before dinner.”
“Ok,” Mrs. Anderson said, lips pressing together into a small smile. “But if you need to call you don’t hesitate. It’s good to see you making friends, honey.”
“Yeah,” Blaine said again, thinking about his social circle and the kids from glee, “it is.”
He went back to his room and packed an overnight bag to take to school with him on Friday. A change of clothes, his ‘signature’ scent of deodorant cologne, and a pair of comfortable chocolate brown pyjamas. He knew it was a little overeager to already have his bag packed when tomorrow would only be Thursday, but Blaine felt it was justified. This was the first time a boy had asked him to stay over since he was ten years old, and the first ‘movie night’ with anyone since he’d come out at his old school. And to top it all off he’d yet to actually see more than the front room of Kurt’s house.
He had to wonder what the other boy’s room would be like, if it would be as fantastic as the boy himself. Blaine went to bed trying to picture what Kurt’s room might look like, a part of him aware that if he wasn’t careful he could find himself going down a very dangerous road.
“I don’t have a crush on Kurt,” he muttered aloud, lights off, face half-buried in his pillow.
He said it so firmly that even he believed it. Even if it was just for a moment.
Somehow Blaine breezed through Thursday without once thinking about the crush that he didn’t have. He attended the morning gathering outside Kurt’s locker, swanned through his classes, and survived a pop quiz before lunch. He spent his lunch at the glee table talking about homework and participating in the social politics required to stay on top in the in crowd.
“You know,” Quinn commented towards the end of the lunch period, sharp blue eyes firmly trained on his face as she watched for reactions. “You’ve been at this school now for almost a couple of months and you’re at the top of the food chain when it comes to social standing... but I haven’t heard you going out on even one single date.”
“That would be because I haven’t,” Blaine replied, covering his unease with a smooth smile.
“Why is that?” Quinn asked. “I know it’s not a shortage of interested parties.”
Blaine shrugged, “maybe I’m just pickier than most.”
“Maybe you’re a little bit gay.”
The table fell mostly silent, all eyes turning to Blaine to watch his reaction. Panic flared up for a moment, but a quick sideways glance at Kurt served as a reminder of what he wanted to be. The other boy wasn’t even looking at him, instead poking at something or other on his phone, completely unconcerned by Blaine’s suddenly spotlighted sexuality. Calm, confident, totally unaffected by what other people thought. Be like Kurt, Blaine told himself.
He leaned back in his chair, giving Quinn a charming smile. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a little upset, Quinn. Were you hoping I was going to ask you out?”
“I’d say you’re too much on the short side. I don’t date boys I don’t need to stand on my toes to kiss.”
“What a coincidence,” Blaine said, looking her right in the eye, “neither do I.”
He knew he’d handled the situation gracefully when she backed down and nobody else continued in her place. He might have given out more of a hint than he wanted to, but he decided it worked as a means of testing the water. Nobody was looking at him differently, nobody had opened their mouth to say anything derogatory. Give it another month maybe and he might be ready to actually come out at McKinley.
After that the afternoon seemed to go very quickly. It was like one moment he was walking into his first class after lunch and the next he was waiting at the bus stop after school.
On Friday morning he had difficulty stuffing his overnight bag into his locker, but somehow managed to do it without completely crushing the few other things he kept inside it. The only problem was that the second he opened his locker again the bag was bound to spill right out onto the floor, which meant he wouldn’t be able to get to his textbooks. He decided to use it as an excuse to test something Kurt had told him once a couple of weeks ago; That if you just turned up to class and kept your eyes on the board most teachers wouldn’t even notice the lack of books. And the ones that did wouldn’t say a word. Not if you were one of the good students.
McKinley’s teachers were all either burnt out alcoholics who just didn’t care anymore or too busy being enthusiastic about their lesson plans to notice the finger details.
He was actually surprised when it turned out to be true.
He told Kurt about it during their one class together that day.
“Of course I was right,” Kurt replied, idly doodling little cartoon characters into the margins of his notebook with a sparkly blue pencil. “I’m always right.”
“Oh, of course. I should have known,” Blaine joked. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Hm, I’m sure there’s something,” Kurt gave him an odd sideways smile that Blaine tried not to think of as seductive. “But I haven’t come across it yet.”
“When you do, don’t tell anyone,” Blaine advised with a grin, “that way you can keep the appearance of omniscience you always seem to have.”
“Flattery. I like it.” The bell rang and Kurt stopped his doodling. “I’m going to be late getting out of class, I have to talk to Ms Spencer about my assignment. Can I meet you at my car?”
“Sure. I’ll just sit on the hood until you get there.”
“Ha ha. Touch my baby, Blaine Anderson, and they will never find your body.”
Blaine laughed and waved to his friend as they went opposite ways down the hall.
-
The overnight bag leapt out of the locker as if making a desperate bid for freedom. Blaine caught it just before it hit the ground but wasn’t quick enough to catch the two textbooks that followed it. The books fell to the floor, splayed open to random pages of math and French. He sighed and picked them up, hoisted the bag onto one shoulder and put the books back where they belonged. He was out at the car with time to spare and leaned against the big black tank of a machine as he watched the parking lot slowly empty.
Most of the cars were gone, only ten minutes after school ended, when Kurt finally emerged from the main building and trotted towards the car.
“Everything good?” Blaine asked.
“Everything is great,” Kurt replied, unlocking the car with the remote.
Everything was pretty great, Blaine had to agree. Kurt’s music of choice that day was The Beatles. They sang along in the car on the way to the Hummel household, stopping only when Kurt finally cut the engine in the driveway. For the first time Blaine got to see further into the house than just the front room. He got the tour of the upper level first before the boys retreated to the basement - Kurt’s room - to watch movies and eat popcorn. Plain, low-fat popcorn on the white couch in the middle of Kurt’s very sophisticated, massive white room.
They got through two movies before dinner time, at which point they trooped upstairs and had dinner with Kurt’s dad. Mr. Hummel was at first intimidating and not at all what Blaine had been expecting. Over the course of the meal though Blaine spoke to the man enough to lose his shyness and decided that Mr. Hummel was the kind of dad every kid should have.
Back down in the basement he and Kurt watched another movie before finally calling it quits and changing into their pyjamas. (Blaine would openly admit that he was impressed to discover Kurt’s own private bathroom in the basement, small as it was.) He tried very hard not to let on that Kurt in blue silk pyjamas was probably the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
The lights finally went off at a quarter to midnight, both boys sharing Kurt’s queen bed on different sides. Blaine wasn’t entirely sure that Mr. Hummel knew about that particular sleeping arrangement, and if he did then Blaine was sure he didn’t know that both boys were gay. He probably thought it wasn’t a problem, Blaine realised, given that Kurt already had a boyfriend.
He lay on his side in the dark contemplating that fact, silent and listening to Kurt breathing. They’d spoken a lot that night, sharing silly secrets and playing stupid games like ‘what would you do with a million dollars’. Now, lying there in Kurt’s bed he couldn’t help but feel strangely tense. He’d never actually been in a bed with another boy before.
“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice piped up in a whisper behind him, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still awake?”
Blaine rolled over onto his other side so he could look at Kurt, squinting in the dark. “That’s a silly question.”
He thought he saw Kurt smile at him. “I suppose it is,” the other boy murmured. “I don’t think I’m ready to sleep yet,” he confessed in the same sort of whisper. “Are you?”
“...no,” Blaine replied, tucking his pillow up tighter against his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can sleep. It’s sort of strange to have someone else in the bed.”
“I know.” There was a brief silence. Kurt moved around on the bed, blankets shifting, until he was propped up a little on one elbow. “I haven’t slept with anyone before, with anyone beside me in bed.”
“Not even Puck?” Blaine asked in a whisper, then held his breath because it felt like he was pushing up against a boundary that he didn’t dare overstep.
“I’ve never slept with Puck,” Kurt whispered back.
“You’ve never...?” Blaine paused, feeling that boundary again. He took a breath, the darkness and the late hour giving him courage he wouldn’t have had in the daylight. “You haven’t had sex with him?”
There was another silence. “No,” Kurt said finally, sounding strangely meek. “We haven’t gone further than touching... There’s never been the time or the... privacy.” There was another pause while Blaine digested that, a tiny ray of hope lighting up in his chest where it didn’t deserve to be. “I’ve never told anyone that before,” Kurt added.
“That you’re a virgin?” Blaine pressed, feeling his cheeks heat up in a blush. He was glad it was dark so Kurt couldn’t see. “I haven’t even kissed anyone,” he offered. “The only boy I ever liked at my old school was straight... I never told him, but it must have been pretty obvious anyway. The other gay kid at school, the other boy who was out, we went out together a couple of times but nothing ever happened. We were more like just friends. And then...” Blaine trailed off, not sure he wanted to tell Kurt about that just yet.
“And then?” Kurt prompted softly.
Blaine hesitated. Then Kurt shifted a little bit again and his fingers brushed against Blaine’s hand, points of heat against his skin. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and continued. “And then one night when we were out together a bunch of guys from school beat us up. It was... It was pretty bad. I was in the hospital for about a week and on crutches pretty much all summer. That’s why I transferred. The other boys weren’t expelled or anything. They were arrested but... there wasn’t enough evidence to charge them with anything, so...”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Blaine...” Kurt shifted a little closer, just a couple of inches that made it seem like they were suddenly in a bubble of intimacy that hadn’t been there before. Blaine could feel the tension between them and hoped he wasn’t just imagining it.
“Yes...?”
“I want to do something,” Kurt said, barely audible, “but if I do...”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Blaine promised softly. “I wouldn’t breathe a word.”
“I know,” Kurt replied softly.
A hand, soft and impossibly warm, found and cupped his cheek. Blaine closed his eyes at the feeling, breath stuttering at the touch of Kurt’s thumb to his bottom lip. Then suddenly there were lips against his in a slow, barely there kiss. They didn’t’ say anything afterwards.
Blaine didn’t know how long it took him to actually fall asleep but he knew he must have because when he next opened his eyes Kurt wasn’t in the bed and there was a light on in the bathroom. It took him a moment to realise that anything unusual was going on and that what must have woken him up was the one-sided conversation he could hear. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and through it he could hear Kurt’s voice talking softly to someone else. The pauses between talking pointed to a phone call, and sure enough when Blaine looked Kurt’s mobile was no longer on the nightstand where it had been earlier.
“... what I’m doing, Noah.” A pause. “Well if it comes up -... Then you know that I have everything under control. If there was a problem I would tell you about it, and since I haven’t said a word about any kind of trouble we can safely assume that you don’t need to buy any more bleach.”
There was a long pause after that, during which Blaine could swear he heard Kurt sigh impatiently.
“It’s nice to see you handling this with all the grace of a hick with a chainsaw,” Kurt’s voice, cuttingly sarcastic, echoed just a touch off the bathroom walls, and was quickly followed by; “Fine, bowie knife. Whatever.”
For some reason that struck a chord with Blaine, something that made him feel particularly uneasy. And not just about eavesdropping on Kurt’s half of the conversation. He wondered if he should say something, make some noise to let the other boy know that he was awake. The longer the next silence stretched on the more awkward he felt it would be to try and announce himself. Eventually Blaine decided the best course of action was to just lie there and wait for Kurt to come back. He could ‘wake up’ when Kurt returned from the bathroom.
“Why don’t you just go out and kill a hooker?” Kurt asked sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes that Blaine could practically hear in the air. “I hear that’s a good way to relieve tension... Well you were asking for it... Look, I’ll see you tomorrow and we can talk then. Right now it’s... almost three in the morning, Noah.”
There was another short silence, then Kurt’s voice piped up again, this time sounding much less annoyed. “Yes, I know. I love you too... Goodnight, Noah.”
Blaine listened carefully to see if anything else was going to bed said, but all he heard was the sink faucet turning on and water running. There was the splash of hands under water, then silence again. The bathroom light turned off a few seconds later. Footsteps told him where Kurt was, and Blaine rolled over just before his friend reached the bed. “Hey...”
“Blaine,” Kurt replied, surprised. “Did I wake you?”
“Sort of,” Blaine replied, deciding to stick with his earlier plan. “I heard the water going and realised you weren’t in the bed.”
“I’m sorry.” Kurt climbed back in under the covers, lying down on his side. “I didn’t realise it was so loud.”
“It wasn’t. I guess I’m just not used to sleeping at other people’s houses.”
To Blaine it felt like the silence they fell into was uncomfortable, but he had no way of telling how Kurt was feeling. It was too dark to see the other boy’s face, the tiny bits of light in the room barely enough to make out Kurt’s silhouette. He listened to Kurt’s breathing slowly even out into sleep and lay there awake in the dark.
Blaine couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t sure why but suddenly he didn’t feel very comfortable in Kurt’s bed anymore.
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“It’s not that late,” Blaine replied, pulling a chair out so he could take a seat opposite her at the table. “Actually, I just wanted to catch you up. Remember that movie night I mentioned?”
“The one with your friend Kurt,” Mrs. Anderson nodded, obviously pleased with the idea that Blaine had friends who liked him enough to invite him over. “On Saturday.”
“Yeah. Well, I just finished talking with him again and we’ve decided it would probably work better if we moved it to Friday. That way I can just ride home with him after school and you and dad don’t have to drive in to Lima to drop me off...” Blaine trailed off, hoping it would be an easy yes.
“How would you be getting home the next day?” she asked.
“Kurt said he’d drive me on Saturday. I’d be home before dinner.”
“Ok,” Mrs. Anderson said, lips pressing together into a small smile. “But if you need to call you don’t hesitate. It’s good to see you making friends, honey.”
“Yeah,” Blaine said again, thinking about his social circle and the kids from glee, “it is.”
He went back to his room and packed an overnight bag to take to school with him on Friday. A change of clothes, his ‘signature’ scent of deodorant cologne, and a pair of comfortable chocolate brown pyjamas. He knew it was a little overeager to already have his bag packed when tomorrow would only be Thursday, but Blaine felt it was justified. This was the first time a boy had asked him to stay over since he was ten years old, and the first ‘movie night’ with anyone since he’d come out at his old school. And to top it all off he’d yet to actually see more than the front room of Kurt’s house.
He had to wonder what the other boy’s room would be like, if it would be as fantastic as the boy himself. Blaine went to bed trying to picture what Kurt’s room might look like, a part of him aware that if he wasn’t careful he could find himself going down a very dangerous road.
“I don’t have a crush on Kurt,” he muttered aloud, lights off, face half-buried in his pillow.
He said it so firmly that even he believed it. Even if it was just for a moment.
Somehow Blaine breezed through Thursday without once thinking about the crush that he didn’t have. He attended the morning gathering outside Kurt’s locker, swanned through his classes, and survived a pop quiz before lunch. He spent his lunch at the glee table talking about homework and participating in the social politics required to stay on top in the in crowd.
“You know,” Quinn commented towards the end of the lunch period, sharp blue eyes firmly trained on his face as she watched for reactions. “You’ve been at this school now for almost a couple of months and you’re at the top of the food chain when it comes to social standing... but I haven’t heard you going out on even one single date.”
“That would be because I haven’t,” Blaine replied, covering his unease with a smooth smile.
“Why is that?” Quinn asked. “I know it’s not a shortage of interested parties.”
Blaine shrugged, “maybe I’m just pickier than most.”
“Maybe you’re a little bit gay.”
The table fell mostly silent, all eyes turning to Blaine to watch his reaction. Panic flared up for a moment, but a quick sideways glance at Kurt served as a reminder of what he wanted to be. The other boy wasn’t even looking at him, instead poking at something or other on his phone, completely unconcerned by Blaine’s suddenly spotlighted sexuality. Calm, confident, totally unaffected by what other people thought. Be like Kurt, Blaine told himself.
He leaned back in his chair, giving Quinn a charming smile. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a little upset, Quinn. Were you hoping I was going to ask you out?”
“I’d say you’re too much on the short side. I don’t date boys I don’t need to stand on my toes to kiss.”
“What a coincidence,” Blaine said, looking her right in the eye, “neither do I.”
He knew he’d handled the situation gracefully when she backed down and nobody else continued in her place. He might have given out more of a hint than he wanted to, but he decided it worked as a means of testing the water. Nobody was looking at him differently, nobody had opened their mouth to say anything derogatory. Give it another month maybe and he might be ready to actually come out at McKinley.
After that the afternoon seemed to go very quickly. It was like one moment he was walking into his first class after lunch and the next he was waiting at the bus stop after school.
On Friday morning he had difficulty stuffing his overnight bag into his locker, but somehow managed to do it without completely crushing the few other things he kept inside it. The only problem was that the second he opened his locker again the bag was bound to spill right out onto the floor, which meant he wouldn’t be able to get to his textbooks. He decided to use it as an excuse to test something Kurt had told him once a couple of weeks ago; That if you just turned up to class and kept your eyes on the board most teachers wouldn’t even notice the lack of books. And the ones that did wouldn’t say a word. Not if you were one of the good students.
McKinley’s teachers were all either burnt out alcoholics who just didn’t care anymore or too busy being enthusiastic about their lesson plans to notice the finger details.
He was actually surprised when it turned out to be true.
He told Kurt about it during their one class together that day.
“Of course I was right,” Kurt replied, idly doodling little cartoon characters into the margins of his notebook with a sparkly blue pencil. “I’m always right.”
“Oh, of course. I should have known,” Blaine joked. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Hm, I’m sure there’s something,” Kurt gave him an odd sideways smile that Blaine tried not to think of as seductive. “But I haven’t come across it yet.”
“When you do, don’t tell anyone,” Blaine advised with a grin, “that way you can keep the appearance of omniscience you always seem to have.”
“Flattery. I like it.” The bell rang and Kurt stopped his doodling. “I’m going to be late getting out of class, I have to talk to Ms Spencer about my assignment. Can I meet you at my car?”
“Sure. I’ll just sit on the hood until you get there.”
“Ha ha. Touch my baby, Blaine Anderson, and they will never find your body.”
Blaine laughed and waved to his friend as they went opposite ways down the hall.
-
The overnight bag leapt out of the locker as if making a desperate bid for freedom. Blaine caught it just before it hit the ground but wasn’t quick enough to catch the two textbooks that followed it. The books fell to the floor, splayed open to random pages of math and French. He sighed and picked them up, hoisted the bag onto one shoulder and put the books back where they belonged. He was out at the car with time to spare and leaned against the big black tank of a machine as he watched the parking lot slowly empty.
Most of the cars were gone, only ten minutes after school ended, when Kurt finally emerged from the main building and trotted towards the car.
“Everything good?” Blaine asked.
“Everything is great,” Kurt replied, unlocking the car with the remote.
Everything was pretty great, Blaine had to agree. Kurt’s music of choice that day was The Beatles. They sang along in the car on the way to the Hummel household, stopping only when Kurt finally cut the engine in the driveway. For the first time Blaine got to see further into the house than just the front room. He got the tour of the upper level first before the boys retreated to the basement - Kurt’s room - to watch movies and eat popcorn. Plain, low-fat popcorn on the white couch in the middle of Kurt’s very sophisticated, massive white room.
They got through two movies before dinner time, at which point they trooped upstairs and had dinner with Kurt’s dad. Mr. Hummel was at first intimidating and not at all what Blaine had been expecting. Over the course of the meal though Blaine spoke to the man enough to lose his shyness and decided that Mr. Hummel was the kind of dad every kid should have.
Back down in the basement he and Kurt watched another movie before finally calling it quits and changing into their pyjamas. (Blaine would openly admit that he was impressed to discover Kurt’s own private bathroom in the basement, small as it was.) He tried very hard not to let on that Kurt in blue silk pyjamas was probably the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
The lights finally went off at a quarter to midnight, both boys sharing Kurt’s queen bed on different sides. Blaine wasn’t entirely sure that Mr. Hummel knew about that particular sleeping arrangement, and if he did then Blaine was sure he didn’t know that both boys were gay. He probably thought it wasn’t a problem, Blaine realised, given that Kurt already had a boyfriend.
He lay on his side in the dark contemplating that fact, silent and listening to Kurt breathing. They’d spoken a lot that night, sharing silly secrets and playing stupid games like ‘what would you do with a million dollars’. Now, lying there in Kurt’s bed he couldn’t help but feel strangely tense. He’d never actually been in a bed with another boy before.
“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice piped up in a whisper behind him, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still awake?”
Blaine rolled over onto his other side so he could look at Kurt, squinting in the dark. “That’s a silly question.”
He thought he saw Kurt smile at him. “I suppose it is,” the other boy murmured. “I don’t think I’m ready to sleep yet,” he confessed in the same sort of whisper. “Are you?”
“...no,” Blaine replied, tucking his pillow up tighter against his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can sleep. It’s sort of strange to have someone else in the bed.”
“I know.” There was a brief silence. Kurt moved around on the bed, blankets shifting, until he was propped up a little on one elbow. “I haven’t slept with anyone before, with anyone beside me in bed.”
“Not even Puck?” Blaine asked in a whisper, then held his breath because it felt like he was pushing up against a boundary that he didn’t dare overstep.
“I’ve never slept with Puck,” Kurt whispered back.
“You’ve never...?” Blaine paused, feeling that boundary again. He took a breath, the darkness and the late hour giving him courage he wouldn’t have had in the daylight. “You haven’t had sex with him?”
There was another silence. “No,” Kurt said finally, sounding strangely meek. “We haven’t gone further than touching... There’s never been the time or the... privacy.” There was another pause while Blaine digested that, a tiny ray of hope lighting up in his chest where it didn’t deserve to be. “I’ve never told anyone that before,” Kurt added.
“That you’re a virgin?” Blaine pressed, feeling his cheeks heat up in a blush. He was glad it was dark so Kurt couldn’t see. “I haven’t even kissed anyone,” he offered. “The only boy I ever liked at my old school was straight... I never told him, but it must have been pretty obvious anyway. The other gay kid at school, the other boy who was out, we went out together a couple of times but nothing ever happened. We were more like just friends. And then...” Blaine trailed off, not sure he wanted to tell Kurt about that just yet.
“And then?” Kurt prompted softly.
Blaine hesitated. Then Kurt shifted a little bit again and his fingers brushed against Blaine’s hand, points of heat against his skin. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and continued. “And then one night when we were out together a bunch of guys from school beat us up. It was... It was pretty bad. I was in the hospital for about a week and on crutches pretty much all summer. That’s why I transferred. The other boys weren’t expelled or anything. They were arrested but... there wasn’t enough evidence to charge them with anything, so...”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Blaine...” Kurt shifted a little closer, just a couple of inches that made it seem like they were suddenly in a bubble of intimacy that hadn’t been there before. Blaine could feel the tension between them and hoped he wasn’t just imagining it.
“Yes...?”
“I want to do something,” Kurt said, barely audible, “but if I do...”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Blaine promised softly. “I wouldn’t breathe a word.”
“I know,” Kurt replied softly.
A hand, soft and impossibly warm, found and cupped his cheek. Blaine closed his eyes at the feeling, breath stuttering at the touch of Kurt’s thumb to his bottom lip. Then suddenly there were lips against his in a slow, barely there kiss. They didn’t’ say anything afterwards.
Blaine didn’t know how long it took him to actually fall asleep but he knew he must have because when he next opened his eyes Kurt wasn’t in the bed and there was a light on in the bathroom. It took him a moment to realise that anything unusual was going on and that what must have woken him up was the one-sided conversation he could hear. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and through it he could hear Kurt’s voice talking softly to someone else. The pauses between talking pointed to a phone call, and sure enough when Blaine looked Kurt’s mobile was no longer on the nightstand where it had been earlier.
“... what I’m doing, Noah.” A pause. “Well if it comes up -... Then you know that I have everything under control. If there was a problem I would tell you about it, and since I haven’t said a word about any kind of trouble we can safely assume that you don’t need to buy any more bleach.”
There was a long pause after that, during which Blaine could swear he heard Kurt sigh impatiently.
“It’s nice to see you handling this with all the grace of a hick with a chainsaw,” Kurt’s voice, cuttingly sarcastic, echoed just a touch off the bathroom walls, and was quickly followed by; “Fine, bowie knife. Whatever.”
For some reason that struck a chord with Blaine, something that made him feel particularly uneasy. And not just about eavesdropping on Kurt’s half of the conversation. He wondered if he should say something, make some noise to let the other boy know that he was awake. The longer the next silence stretched on the more awkward he felt it would be to try and announce himself. Eventually Blaine decided the best course of action was to just lie there and wait for Kurt to come back. He could ‘wake up’ when Kurt returned from the bathroom.
“Why don’t you just go out and kill a hooker?” Kurt asked sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes that Blaine could practically hear in the air. “I hear that’s a good way to relieve tension... Well you were asking for it... Look, I’ll see you tomorrow and we can talk then. Right now it’s... almost three in the morning, Noah.”
There was another short silence, then Kurt’s voice piped up again, this time sounding much less annoyed. “Yes, I know. I love you too... Goodnight, Noah.”
Blaine listened carefully to see if anything else was going to bed said, but all he heard was the sink faucet turning on and water running. There was the splash of hands under water, then silence again. The bathroom light turned off a few seconds later. Footsteps told him where Kurt was, and Blaine rolled over just before his friend reached the bed. “Hey...”
“Blaine,” Kurt replied, surprised. “Did I wake you?”
“Sort of,” Blaine replied, deciding to stick with his earlier plan. “I heard the water going and realised you weren’t in the bed.”
“I’m sorry.” Kurt climbed back in under the covers, lying down on his side. “I didn’t realise it was so loud.”
“It wasn’t. I guess I’m just not used to sleeping at other people’s houses.”
To Blaine it felt like the silence they fell into was uncomfortable, but he had no way of telling how Kurt was feeling. It was too dark to see the other boy’s face, the tiny bits of light in the room barely enough to make out Kurt’s silhouette. He listened to Kurt’s breathing slowly even out into sleep and lay there awake in the dark.
Blaine couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t sure why but suddenly he didn’t feel very comfortable in Kurt’s bed anymore.
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