Fic: Higher Education, 2/?
Title: Higher Education, Part 2/?
Author: knittycat99
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Kurt/Puck
Rating: R-ish for kissing and potential future sexual situations
Word Count: 3,070
Spoilers: through 2x16, "Original Song"
Summary: They move in and out of Kurt's life over the years, showing up occasionally when he needs them and more often when he doesn't
Note: A speculative fic about what the future might hold for our boys
Part 2: Dalton, Junior Year Spring/Summer
It’s the first time I stayed up all night. It’s getting light, I hear the birds. I’m driving home on empty streets. I think I put my shirt on backwards.
-Dar Williams
Sunday morning, Kurt slept late. Sunday Brunch was a Dalton Upper School tradition, buffet tables set up in the dining hall for Belgian Waffle bar or omelets in addition to the regular assortment of bagels, fruit, and cereal. Most weeks, Kurt was up early and was already perfectly dressed and halfway through his pre-calc homework before brunch time. But this week, not so much. He was actually so tired and emotionally drained that he stumbled downstairs bleary-eyed in the navy sweatpants and grey t-shirt that only Blaine and his roommate had seen him in. He didn’t care. He was halfway through the buffet line with a plate of waffles and strawberries when he felt rather than saw Blaine sneak in behind him.
“Hey”. Blaine’s voice was gravelly with sleep in his ear.
“Hey.” Kurt whispered his reply. He didn’t trust his voice yet. When he turned to look at Blaine, he saw first sleep-rumpled curls and horn-rimmed glasses framing eyes too squinty to manage contact lenses. Then a frayed at the collar, faded cranberry t-shirt and charcoal sweatpants. In fact, a glance around the dining hall made it clear that all of the Warblers were having a rough morning. Kurt didn’t feel so bad.
When he got through the line, he set his plate at a more private corner table away from the rest of the Warblers and went to fill a mug with coffee. Blaine joined him and the two ate in silence until, halfway through his waffles, Kurt’s brain-fog cleared. He decided that coming right out with it would make it better.
“I’m going to go back to McKinley.”
Blaine almost choked on his sausage patty and looked at Kurt with panic in his eyes.
“No, no, not right away. For senior year. I’ll finish out spring term, and work with you at the day camp like we had planned.” He and Blaine had been offered Junior Counselor jobs at the day camp Dalton ran with Crawford Country Day, a reward for good grades and community involvement. It meant staying at Dalton over the summer, but it also meant a decent chunk of money for Kurt’s college fund.
“I just… after yesterday… it was a long day, and kind of emotional, and I realized that I’m not the same scared kid who came here in the fall.”
Blaine looked at him with such affection and…. something else. Pride? Yes. Pride. Blaine’s hand snaked between their coffee mugs and the salt and pepper shakers to cover his.
“You’re right. You’re not the same kid who came here in October. Anyone who knows you can see that. I see it. It kind of shines out of you.”
“Thank you.”
“What makes you want to go back to McKinley? I mean, Karofsky is still going to be there.”
“True. It’s hard. You’re here. I have fun with the Warblers. I like my classes and the teachers. But I miss my dad and my family. I miss New Directions. And the most real part of all of this is that I can’t run and hide my entire life. Being safe is important, but I’m going to face bullies all the time even after high school. I need to learn how to exist with other people. I need to keep growing. I can grow with you here. I can grow academically here. But I can’t grow in the world here because Dalton isn’t the world. And,” he offered a faint smile, “I think I’m stronger now than I was then.”
There was that look of pride again in Blaine’s eyes. “You are that. I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. You don’t have to worry about losing me when you go back to Lima. Okay?”
Kurt felt unexpectedly teary-eyed at Blaine’s unwavering support. He nodded, and then turned away for a brief minute to compose himself. When he turned back, Blaine’s face had gone soft, and he was awkwardly rubbing at his own eyes beneath his glasses. Now it was his turn to reassure Blaine.
“You’re not going to lose me either. I promise.”
*****
Blaine couldn’t help feeling that once Kurt was free of the little Dalton bubble, he would indeed be kicked to the curb. He couldn’t express that, though. Not right then. Instead, he let his fears eat away at him. He pulled further and further into himself, busied himself with schoolwork and spending hours upon hours just being with Kurt. He had read a fantasy series as a young teen about magical horse-type creatures that bonded with humans, and part of the process to build that bond was spending crazy amounts of time together; he kind of felt like that all the time, like the world was better the closer he was to Kurt. Which is how they ended up in one of their rooms, depending on whose roommate was out at the library or a study group or team practice. They would do homework, watch DVDs on one of their laptops. As the weather got warmer, they would sometimes take a blanket and relax under what they both thought of as Pavarotti’s tree. They didn’t actually do anything much beyond kissing; they were both kind of shy and nervous around each other still. But there were times he felt near to drunk on the sensation of Kurt’s body against his, the lightness of Kurt’s breath on his neck, and the subtle clean scent of his moisturizer. It was all he could do, some nights, to let Kurt leave him. He hated how that made him feel, like he was insecure and needy.
The week before exams, he and Kurt (and most of the Upper School) were taking advantage of an unusually warm May afternoon by “studying” on the Quad, with music courtesy of Kurt’s portable iPod dock. Blaine was trying in vain to focus on his History response questions, but kept being distracted by Kurt’s hand as it toyed with the hem of his t-shirt.
“You really don’t want me to finish this, do you?” he asked.
Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing it on purpose. I like…” he blushed light pink. “I, um, I like touching you. I don’t even think it’s intentional.”
Blaine tapped his pen on Kurt’s kind of dog-eared copy of Crime and Punishment. “Finish your reading so you can write your response. If we get all our work done, we can watch a movie later. I got ‘Trick’ from NetFlix today.”
“Tori Spelling is such a train wreck in that. It’s fabulous.” Kurt’s face lit up at the thought.
“And a reward for you finally finishing that.” Blaine gestured to the book again.
“You should be glad you’re not in lit with me. Mr. Jackson loves him some dark Russian novels. I emphatically don’t love dark Russian novels. I’ve seriously been carrying this around for two weeks and I haven’t broken 100 pages yet.”
“It’s not so bad. Is it?”
“Have you even read it? It’s Dostoevsky. By its very nature, the bane of high school students everywhere. It’s almost as bad as The Grapes of Wrath.”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“How is it possible that you’ve gotten to the 11th grade, at Dalton of all places, and you haven’t read some of the most slog-worthy novels in all of American secondary education?”
“Lucky, I guess.” Blaine made a show every spring of registering for some of the niche-specific lit courses Dalton offered. His friends thought he was very multicultural, and he played it off as broadening his horizons. In actuality, he struggled with all the reading. He had learned early on that he stood a better chance making it through contemporary novels, so he had avoided the more tome-heavy classes that were standard high school English fare. He tried to change the subject.
“What will you take at McKinley next year? You’ve out-paced them now, even just being here for part of the year.”
Kurt rolled over onto his back and ticked his classes off on his fingers. “AP Lit, Calc, AP US History, AP French, Physics, PE, and Glee.”
“And your 8th class?”
“Oh! I got to choose early track, so I’ll be done after Glee. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to get a job or do some volunteering or something. I was thinking maybe about seeing if some of the other Glee kids wanted to work with me at the rec center setting up a kid’s chorus.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah.” They lay in silence for a few minutes. “Blaine?” Kurt’s voice arced up into a question,
“Yeah?”
“Why haven’t you taken the same English classes as the rest of us?”
“You caught that, did you?”
“It was kind of like the elephant on the blanket. You weren’t exactly subtle in your attempts to change the subject.”
“I just don’t do as well in lit. The reading is a problem. Not so much understanding it, but being able to get through it and remember the plot points through from beginning to end. It’s a little easier with modern stuff. So that’s what I do.”
“And double up in math and science to make up for it?”
“Kind of. Yes. Exactly.”
Silence.
“Blaine?”
“Yes, Kurt?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting your walls down around me.”
“You’re the only one who ever really sees me.”
*****
Kurt’s dad let him take his car back to Dalton for the summer. “So we don’t have to come and pick you up if you want to come home on the weekends,” he said, as they worked together giving the vehicle a once-over at the garage the week Kurt got home. “But be careful. No drinking and driving. And, um. If you and that boy-”
“Blaine, Dad.”
“Blaine. If you and Blaine, you know, go out. Be careful.”
“Are you trying to have another sex talk with me?”
“I just want you to take care of yourself, Kurt. I know there aren’t a lot of safe places for you and Blaine to be together. If you decide to. In the car. There’s protection in the glove box.”
“Oh my God, Dad!” Kurt felt the blush rolling up his face. “For your information, all we’ve done is kiss. I remember what you told me. And neither of us has had a boyfriend before, so we’re just moving really slowly.”
“Well okay.”
When Kurt related the story to Blaine later that summer, after a frantic make-out session, Blaine laughed so hard he cried. “Your dad! Condoms! Glove box!”
“Thank you, Blaine. I remember it all too well. Aside from the very first sex talk it was, perhaps, the most awkward exchange I’ve had with my dad.”
“At least you know he cares?” Blaine had said, wiping tears from his eyes. That set Kurt off, even though he wasn’t quite sure why he was laughing. When he finally composed himself, he got quiet. “We haven’t really talked about it, you know” he said, looking up into Blaine’s eyes.
“Talked about?”
“Sex. About whether we want to, and all that.”
“Oh, I want.” Blaine trailed his hand down Kurt’s thigh.
“I know you do. What I mean is, I know your body does. So does mine. But what about our hearts? Our heads? When my dad and I had The Talk, he told me not to throw myself around like I didn’t matter, because I do matter. I know I’m a hopeless romantic, but I really do want it to be special.”
“It will be.” Blaine covered his mouth with a gentle kiss. God, he loved kissing Blaine. He loved the feel of Blaine’s hands in his hair, the warmth of his hands under Blaine’s shirt, the way they fit together when they were stretched out on one of their beds or out under Pavarotti’s tree in the warm evenings after the campers were gone for the day. Kurt was looking at this summer like a gift of uninterrupted, languorous hours together. There were times when he just wanted to drink Blaine in, to memorize him with touch. To store all of the sensation and emotion away for the coming months when they would only get to be together on weekends. God, he was really going to miss this. He sighed into Blaine’s neck and felt Blaine shiver against him. “I love you, Blaine.”
“I love you, Kurt.”
*****
Blaine wanted everything to be special. He had tickets to the last of the summer outdoor concerts in Columbus, a blanket and fixings for a picnic dinner in the trunk of his car, and a head full of things he wanted to say. Back in the spring, when he kissed Kurt for the first time in the common room, he hadn’t had any idea. All he knew then was that he had feelings for Kurt. What he didn’t come to realize until recently was how entwined his feelings for Kurt were with his feelings about himself. For the first time in his life, he had someone who saw everything about him. He didn’t have to worry about letting his walls down or dropping his perfect Blaine Anderson persona around Kurt because Kurt saw beyond all of it without even trying. Being with Kurt gave him confidence, like he was good for someone and someone else was good for him. Kurt made him laugh, and feel strong and vulnerable all at once. God, he loved him. Just the thought of it took his breath away.
Blaine was waiting outside the dorm leaning against his car when Kurt came down after his shower. It was their last free night before the camp musical went up, and their last free night before Kurt had to go back to Lima. He had told Kurt to dress casual, expecting him to show up in one of his fancier outfits. He did a double-take at the boy before him, in a snug black t-shirt and slim black shorts. And flip-flops on his perfectly pedicured feet, hair still damp from his shower and artfully messed with the aid of a little product.
“You like?” Kurt raised an eyebrow in question as he sidled up to the car.
Blaine yanked his voice from where it had fallen into the pit of his stomach. “Hot. You look hot.” He pulled Kurt into him for a fierce kiss. “I’ve never seen you like this, all casual, I’m so sexy because I don’t know I’m sexy.”
“I’m not sexy. I thought we’d already established that I’m about as sexy as-”
“A baby penguin, I know. This?” he ran his eyes up and down Kurt’s body. “This is smokin’. C’mon.” He gestured to the car with his head. “We’re going to be late if we linger.”
The concert was the Columbus Gay Men’s Chorus, which meant that neither of them had to be self-conscious about holding hands or kissing in public. It was a fun night; both of them liked people-watching, and the music was good. Kurt seemed relaxed, which in turn made Blaine feel relaxed. It made him less nervous about his plans for the rest of the evening, though when the concert was over and everyone started packing up blankets and coolers, his hands began to tremble a little. He really hadn’t been this nervous since the first time they had kissed.
“Are you okay?” Kurt nodded at his hands.
Blaine swallowed, tried to calm himself. “I’m just a little nervous. I have . . . plans . . . for when we get back to Westerville.”
“Plans?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I get any elaboration?”
“You know. Um. Plans.”
“No, Blaine, I don’t know. Wait.”
Blaine reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, which he discreetly handed to Kurt.
“Oh.” Kurt turned pink. “Plans. I see.”
The car ride back to Westerville was pretty silent. When Blaine grasped Kurt’s hand to pull him down the hall to his room, both of their palms were slightly damp. As soon as Blaine closed the door to his room, Kurt was on him, kissing with teeth and tongue and hands everywhere. In the cool half-dark of the room, the only sound was the whisper of shirts and shorts being shed and the hush and hitch of breath as touches moved from gentle to demanding.
“Are you sure?” Blaine asked, what felt like hours later but was surely only minutes.
“I’m giving you this heart to break.”
Blaine had never felt so exposed as he did afterwards, lying curled with Kurt against his bare chest, soft tears drying on both of their cheeks. “No walls,” Kurt whispered into his neck.
“No walls. Never with you.”
*****
Kurt’s last morning at Dalton, he ate breakfast with Blaine, and then they worked together to pack his car. He’d only taken his winter clothes home over the brief break between school and camp, so he had an entire year’s worth of books and mementos in addition to his wardrobe. They worked for the better part of the morning, until the last thing left was Pavarotti’s empty cage. Blaine set it on the passenger seat while Kurt readied for the drive. They were both trying to be stoic. After so much time together, it felt to Kurt like they were being torn apart. He was going back to Lima, then on a brief vacation (read: camping) with his dad, Carol, and Finn. Blaine was going to San Diego with his own family for two weeks, and then school would start and life would get crazy.
They dawdled around their goodbyes for as long as they could, until Kurt said “I promised my dad I’d be home by dinner.” Blaine pulled him into a long hug, and then kissed him with both strong hands along his jaw.
“I’m trying to be brave,” Blaine said into his hair. When he looked at Kurt, his face was tight.
“No walls, Blaine.”
“No walls.” And then Blaine was in his arms, tears free-flowing and his soul bared open.
“We’re going to be fine,” Kurt told him, and kissed him again. Climbed into his car, and drove away.
And cried silent tears the whole way to Lima.