(no subject)
The book of loveTitle: The book of love (5/?)
Author:
heloula / helaluvE
Rating: T
Warning: expect lots of fluff
Fandom/Pairing: glee/ Kurt&Blaine/ Finchel and lots of other
Summary: There are things you cannot forget. Blaine and Kurt are about to find that out. Future fic includes all the glee clubbers and their kids .
Previous parts can be found here:
http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/1604737.html (Part I)
http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/1628479.html (Part II)
http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/1671946.html (Part III)
http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/2653718.html (Part IV)
Disclaimer: glee is not mine. Klaine is not mine. Their love is not mine. Excuse me while I go sob in a corner.
A/N: I hope you guys haven't forgotten about this story. Sorry it took so long. Good news is next chapter is already written and the one after that is currently under work. I hope you'll enjoy this one.
PART V: Of love and fairytales.
Kurt didn't remember much of the rest of the afternoon. Somehow he had made arrangement to meet up with Blaine at Rachel and Finn's place, returned Melissande and Will to the care of their parents and went back home without really knowing how. His brain seemed to have completely shut down after Blaine agreed to accompany him to the gala. On their non-date.
He was stuck on that.
A non-date.
A non-date with Blaine Anderson.
Blaine.
His ex-boyfriend. The boy, now man, who had meant so much to him, he had changed Kurt's life. The guy who had defined and shaped all of Kurt's relationships since high school.
The thought alone was too great to fathom. A couple of weeks ago Blaine was only a ghost hanging over every failed date, every love song, and every teenage memory. Now, he was here; back in his life, going on dangerously exciting non-dates and wreaking havoc with his previously perfectly regimented emotions.
'Oh God,' he thought,' I'm back in high school.'
The truth of the matter was that he wasn't at all feeling what he knew he ought to feel. He should feel dread, anxiousness, fear and all the plethora of emotions that were usually expected from someone who was in this situation.
Not Kurt.
He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was foolish, wrong and even dangerous but Kurt felt happy. He was so excited by the prospect of spending an entire evening with Blaine, he could barely think straight. He wasn't fooling himself, though. He understood the deal. Blaine was a friend, sort of, and there was nothing that could change the situation. No matter how many times Kurt had hoped for a way to redeem himself.
However, this was Blaine. He had indeed been Kurt's boyfriend for a year and a half but there had been so much more to their relationship than that. Kurt paused at the thought. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him but it still gave him pause. He had been one lucky bastard. Having Blaine as a boyfriend had been the realization of a dream. To this day, he could still say that he had never loved anyone like he had loved Blaine and he knew for a fact that Blaine had felt the same. However it wasn't all. On top of that, Blaine had been his best friend. The best friend anyone could hope for. Kurt had missed his best friend so much; it had been a constant ache in the pit of his stomach. Regret and guilt were only happy to join the party and Kurt suddenly realized he had never really forgotten about him. He had moved on from Blaine as a boyfriend but Best Friend Blaine had been lurking in the back of his mind for over fifteen years.
He didn't know how tonight would turn out but he knew he'd get to spend it with Blaine and that, on its own, was enough to squash any nervousness he might be feeling.
An hour later, Kurt's nerves decided to fight back. They may have taken the first few rounds silently but now they were back with revenge and Kurt, who was prone to dramatics of all kinds, was on the verge of throwing himself out of the window.
He'd taken a shower; made sure his face was as clear and smooth as a baby's and had bounced his way to his walk-in closet when his nerves had thrown the first punch.
He had absolutely no idea what to wear.
He'd wanted to wear his deep blue Armani with a simple black skinny tie and his Dior evening shoes but looking at the outfit hanging on the door, he felt the urge to cry. He hated it. Absolutely hated it. With a burning passion. He turned to the many, many, many racks of clothes and felt himself prickling all over with overwhelming dread. He stumbled out of the "closet" (the size of that room could make Carrie Bradshaw weep in blissful completion) and went to sit on his bed. He tried to rationalize his thoughts but every time he took a look at the closet doors, he felt an urge to throw up.
Kurt Hummel couldn't dress himself. He who had been named 'Best Dressed Celebrity' by People Magazine three times in a row. This had to be the joke of the year.
He was about to make himself a cup of coffee, hoping to clear his mind, when his phone rang. Rachel's smiling face flashed on the screen as For Good, her ringtone, filled the room. It soothed Kurt a little. Amazing that.
"I need you," he said right after picking up.
"Anything."
The black Hugo Boss tux. Silver tie. His favorite glossy Armani shoes. It had been decided over the phone ("You look like a star in that tux," Rachel had said and he heard the teasing smile in her voice, tugging his lip upward) and Rachel even convinced him to come get ready at the Hudson-Berry residence by pretending that she needed his help getting herself ready. He knew for a fact she didn't need him at all since they had picked out a gown two weeks ago but he appreciated the thought behind the lie so he acquiesced. Without needing to say it, they both knew Kurt would definitely need Rachel to distract him. She had a knack for that, his best friend.
For all her flaws, Kurt found Rachel to be quite fantastic.
He carefully packed all he needed and half an hour later he was riding the private elevator leading to Rachel and Finn's apartment. He was greeted by Finn in the entrance hall. His brother was wearing such a typically awkward Finn Hudson smile that Kurt's steps faltered.
He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing," was the quick and unconvincing reply.
"Did you invite another of my ex's back into our lives without telling me again?"
Finn's eyes widened almost comically at that last remark and Kurt understood. It hadn't been snappish enough or nearly vehement enough to be callous which meant Kurt was actually joking about the matter.
Huh.
Well, it was certainly better to laugh then to cry. He'd done enough of that to last him a lifetime.
"How is it going?" Finn asked cautiously. It did not escape Kurt that his brother had completely sidestepped his question but he decided to let it go for now. He'd know soon enough. Finn was as good at keeping secrets as Rachel was at sharing the spotlight.
"I'm okay," Kurt reassured him just like he would have his father. It was amazing how it was Finn (non-blood related Finn) who resembled their father more and more every day. The thought made Kurt's heart swell and he smiled a little bit more easily.
As they neared the 'Drawing Room' (which was just a Jane-Austen-loving Rachel's way of calling their lounge) he heard several more voices than he expected. He almost stopped in his tracks again thinking that Rachel had invited Blaine once again without warning him first but he shook away the thought. Even Rachel wouldn't do that. Not to mention that he had seen Blaine just a couple of hours ago. There was no way he'd be ready, yet.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he came to stop in the Drawing Room's doorway and beheld the sight of Mercedes and Santana sitting at the piano bench. Melissande was sitting on the top, facing them and looking as serious as the day she was born. Kurt still shot a look at Finn (it wasn't Blaine but he was not sure he wanted to have Mercedes and Santana on his back, asking concerned questions, making dirty jokes and generally making him even more nervous than he already was) but he seemed engrossed in the white wall to his right. Kurt rolled his eyes and dropped his bags at his brother's feet (let the coward carry them for him) and made his presence known.
Will, who had been sitting on one of the sofas with his mother, came to him in a flash. The little bundle jumped in his open arms and Kurt sighed contently as he rested his head against his nephew's. They had seen each other just a few hours ago and he had still greeted Kurt like it had been days.
Not for the first time, Kurt felt a new kind of longing pierce his heart. He was grateful for Finn's family but he couldn't help but feel alone in the middle of a crowd.
"Are you going to the stupid party, Uncle Kurt?" Will asked as he was finally let down. He had the stubborn expression of a five-year-old who refused to acknowledge he was feeling left out.
"I'm afraid I have to."
Will gaped in open betrayal-colored incredulity.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise."
Will's eyes narrowed in contemplation. He looked so adorable; Kurt had to bite back a grin. "I want a new bike," he proclaimed. Rachel and Finn started to protest (Melissande would have joined them if she wasn't too busy braiding Santana's hair to pay attention to her brother's boldness) but Kurt shut them up with a look.
"Color?" he asked.
"Blue." At Kurt's raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "Navy blue."
Kurt smirked and extended his hand. "Deal."
Will's face broke into a toothy smile; so much like Rachel's Kurt was almost blinded by the power of it, and shook his uncle's hand. The boy ran over to taunt his sister with the news but was thoroughly disappointed when Melissande took the high road. She smiled down at him, murmured her congratulations on his future acquisition and went back to play with auntie Santana's hair.
"Bath time," Rachel announced, her face lit with amusement. Will and Mel were handed to their nanny and the adult were left alone. Finn went to the kitchen to fetch some drinks and as he looked at the women's carefully blank expression, Kurt remembered why he was here and where he was headed.
Before he knew what was happening, he was engulfed in a warm embrace. However, instead of making him feel good, it sent frustration cursing through him. He let her go rather stiffly.
"Mercedes, I'm fine. Seriously," he insisted when he saw her unconvinced look. "It's just one evening. We're not in high-school anymore so let's not make a mountain out of a small hill, okay?"
It was one thing for him to make a big deal out of this night; it was another for his friends to join the crazy train. If he couldn't count on them to keep straight heads, he was doomed.
He absentmindedly pecked Santana and Rachel on their cheeks and went to sit on the recently vacated bench. Santana came to perch herself next to him. It was so typical of her; he turned his head to smirk at her.
Only Santana.
While Rachel would have been too nervous to approach him in a moment like this or Mercedes considerate enough to give him space and time, Santana had taken the bull by the horns and was charging.
He knew she was supposed to be back in Lima by now but he didn't feel like asking for some explanation for her presence.
"No big deal, huh?" she asked as she pressed down a C minor. Her voice was soft and absent-minded but Kurt knew her too well to let his guards down.
He narrowed his eyes. "Indeed."
"One evening?" her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose in mock bemusement.
"It is not a big deal," Kurt replied with fake insouciance and a shrug that everyone in the room knew had been forced.
"On the contrary, I think it is," Kurt opened his mouth to object but she raised her left hand to cut him off. Ignoring his menacing scowl (something no one in Broadway dared to do anymore), she carried on. "This could be your one chance to make it right, Doll Face. Personally, I can't see the appeal, but you have loved him all your life. Why shouldn't tonight be a big deal?"
Kurt felt his chest contract at her words. "I don't love Blaine."
"Yes, you do," Rachel came forward and leaned against the piano. "I know you, Kurt. You never stopped caring about him."
Kurt had to swallow before speaking again. "Of course, I care about him. He was my first love. We're friends or whatever but it was fifteen years ago. Fifteen years. Why are we even discussing this?"
"He was your first and only love, boo," Mercedes joined them at the piano.
Kurt felt helpless, trapped and desperate. Somehow, it was still better than the overwhelming sadness he was sure to feel in a few moments if they didn't drop the subject. It occurred to him that there was a reason he still felt a deep sense of loss when Blaine was mentioned. He would never properly grieve. He wondered if Blaine ever did. Kurt hoped with all his heart that he had. It was too heart-wrenching to think of the alternative.
"Why are you doing this? What is this, exactly?"
"It's a Blaine-vention. We're here to knock some sense into you," Santana said with a fierce scowl.
Kurt clenched his jaw. "How dare you?" his voice was soft but it dropped into the room like a rock on a glass window. "You don't know anything. You... You can't… This isn't any of your damned business!" Tears of humiliation, sadness and anger gathered in the back of his throat but he managed to push them down. Now was absolutely not the time for a tear fest.
He looked at his friends' faces; varying degrees of guilt and concern were looking back at him. He sighed and it held so much meaning and untold truths, he didn't know how to express them all but he guessed he had to at least try. So, he took a leap of faith and decided to be honest with them. He just hoped they wouldn't hate him. That has always been in the bottom of his heart; this irrational fear that if he had told them what happened between him and Blaine that summer (what he had done), they'd have turned their backs on him.
He knew he had to do this however and maybe it'll help him heal a little.
"I have a box hidden in the very back of my closet. It contains…," he had to stop and clear his throat before continuing. "It contains all that I ever held dear. I call it the 'Blaine Box'."
At that admission, the women's faces softened in compassion. Even Santana winced, which, for her, was as good as a heartfelt pat on the shoulder.
"He is… he was everything to me. I loved him so much; I could have filled entire castles with my love. I loved him so much; it would have been enough to last over several lives. The thought of losing that love made me do something I will regret for the rest of my life. I loved him so much and he loved me back and me, miserable fool and coward that I was, I took that love and quite literally threw it away."
Rachel gasped.
"You…," but she was unable to finish as if the thought was inconceivable. Kurt made his head move up and down in abject confirmation. At the gesture, the tears he'd been holding fell on his cold cheeks and he used the back of his fingers to quickly brush them away.
"I broke his heart."
"You broke yours as well," Mercedes whispered as if it was point in his favor but how could it be? He deserved the broken heart. After all he'd worked so hard to gain it.
"That's completely irrelevant. The point is, tonight cannot be a big deal because I have no right to make it a big deal."
"What if you could?" Finn asked suddenly from behind him. And Kurt almost jumped out of his socks. When had he come back? His brother held a tray of drinks in his hands and was looking grieve stricken.
"I can't," was Kurt's shaky reply.
"But what if?" Santana insisted.
Kurt turned away and went upstairs, unable to form a reply.
What if, indeed.
As it turned out, Mercedes and Santana were actually going to the gala and had chosen, like Kurt, to get ready at the Hudson-Berrys.
"And here I was thinking they were here only for me. Talk about deflating one's ego," Kurt said with a half-smile while he helped Finn with his tie.
"I'm so sorry, man," Finn didn't say for what exactly he was feeling sorry but Kurt appreciated it nonetheless. He felt slightly better. As if confessing the mistakes (mistake really but it was so big and it changed so much, it felt like it should be a plural) of his past left him lighter.
"It's alright. If I had been in their shoes…," he shrugged as he stepped back to allow Finn a better view of the mirror.
"This is as good as it's gonna get," he said with a self-deprecating smile.
"That is damn good," Rachel said as she came into the room. She looked ravishing in a pale pink sleeveless dress. He smiled as he recognized one of his own designs. She gave them a twirl, although it was more for her husband's benefits than his own and Kurt chuckled at Finn's dopey look.
"God, you're pathetic," he said with a shake of his head. Finn ignored him and bent to drop a highly inappropriate kiss on his wife's lips. Kurt was about to shout the cliché, yet efficient, 'Get a room!' when he remembered he was in their bedroom and he was the one "de trop".
He quickly steeped out and went to check on his niece and nephew. He passed by Will's bedroom just to realize that the little boy was already asleep so he moved on to Mel's room.
"Hello, Angel," he smiled as he perched on the side of the bed.
"Tell me the story."
Kurt sighed and was ashamed to admit that he squirmed a little. Melissande pouted. "Please."
"You had to pull out the big guns, didn'cha?" Mel giggled and he loved the sound so much, he felt like a king. He settled more comfortably on the bed while she snuggled on her pillows.
"There once was a prince who lived in a faraway land called Singalot. He was a good prince; dedicated to his people, handsome and he had the voice of an angel. The prince who had been named Porcelain for his fair and flawless skin lived with his loving father, the fair and kind King Barnaby, his step-mother the Queen Carolina and his brother Prince Finston. They were a happy family; a loving family. Oh, they did fight sometimes but it was only because they had big heart and they were filled with passion," Kurt paused as he heard a noise in the hallway but when he looked up he didn't see or hear anything so, with a mental shrug, he went back to Singalot.
"They were all happy, until one day…"
"Until one day, Prince Finston decided to marry Princess Rosebud from the land of Daltonia," Melissande whispered her beautiful eyes huge, alert and warm on her dear face.
Kurt nodded. "Right. Prince Porcelain was very happy that his brother had finally found true love but he couldn't help envy them a little. He felt alone and he longed to feel cherished for who he really was and not for his position as Prince of Singalot. As Princess Rosebud's party arrived to settle at the castle for the nuptials, Prince Porcelain was glad to discover that he quite liked his future sister-in-law, even if she was quite loud and slightly self-centered. The important thing was that she had a heart of gold, an amazing voice and that she loved Prince Finston more than words could say.
"However, Prince Porcelain realized there was another reason he liked Princess Rosebud so much and that reason was her brother, Prince Blainderson. The first time Prince Porcelain saw him, he felt his whole world change forever. He was absolutely beautiful with a mass of perfectly coiffed curly hair and lips the color of cherries and…."
"… and beautiful eyes," Mel smiled hugely and Kurt felt himself smile back.
"The color of warm caramel."
"Prince Caramel-Eyes," at her blissful tone Kurt felt stupid tears sting the back of his eyelids but thankfully he heard Rachel calling from downstairs.
"Good night, love," he gave his niece a sweet kiss and pulled the covers tightly around her.
"Wait! You haven't told me the best part yet," she sighed, which was for Melissande as close to a whine as it would get.
"The one with the dragon?"
"No, I want to hear the ending, please."
"Oh."
He knew which part she meant but tonight after the day he had, uttering those words felt like climbing a mountain without any clothes on.
He did it, though, for Melissande.
"Prince Caramel-Eyes kissed Prince Porcelain softly and they all lived happily ever after," his niece sighed happily as he finished and he bent to give her one last peck.
He barely recognized his own voice as he wished her good night. He left the room, closing it softly behind him and turned toward the staircase.
He stopped short.
Blaine was coming up the stairs, looking… looking more prince-like than real. He was devastatingly handsome in his simple black tux and bow-tie. The sight of him with a bow-tie was like a blow to the stomach. For some reason, he looked a bit pink in the cheeks but Kurt was too busy taking mental pictures to really give it more thought. Their eyes met again and something wild and hungry and breathless flared inside of Kurt.
"Hi," Blaine was the first to break the tension.
"You look…," but words failed Kurt and the sentence died on his dry tongue.
Blaine smiled and it was bit shy and a lot boyish and Kurt felt his bones melt at the sight of that smile. "You too," Blaine replied, his voice deep. It sent another jolt through Kurt's already abused senses. "Rachel sent me up to get you," Blaine explained.
"Let's get me down, then," Kurt's face flamed up as he realized what he said and Blaine looked away. He seemed to be choking; it probably was on Kurt's mortification. When he looked back, Blaine's eyes were dancing with laughter. He opened his mouth but Kurt cut him short.
"Shut up," he mumbled and it was so much like Kurt that Blaine smiled. With a bow and a flourish of his hands, his waved toward the stairs.
The women, all beautiful in their ball gowns, exchanged looks as they saw them coming down together. Before any comment, appropriate or otherwise, could be made, Kurt once again took charge with the highly out of character but efficient: "Let's get this party on the road, shall we?"
And they did.
A/N: Voilà! I hope you liked it. I know there wasn't a lot of Klaine interaction but do not worry, it's coming. I'd also like to add that this was only beta'd by me so please, forgive any mistakes. Anyone interested in being my beta, please let me know. Mucho love!