To Borrow A Heart (5/8)
A/N: Dressy shoes! Pretty much the shoes Kurt finds for Blaine found on a doll site. Ooops? Also, there's more angst in this one. Or well, hurt/comfort, I suppose. Don't kill me.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4
Clothes.
Kurt kept making them, seemingly (and expressively) thrilled about it. He would ask Blaine about a certain outfit in a magazine, or Blaine would point out things from Kurt’s own wardrobe that he liked.
He couldn’t help but feel a bit odd, getting so much but giving so little in return. Kurt kept assuring him that is was alright, that he enjoyed making them, and Blaine could see that he did.
He just kind of wished he could do more for Kurt as well. He didn’t have any notable skills. He was good at borrowing, at climbing and at both reading and writing - and also singing, he supposed, but there wasn’t much he could think of doing to help Kurt.
He supposed he could write him a poem. Or a song. Kurt would probably like that.
Just the day after Kurt had given him the shirt and the vest, Blaine had sat on Kurt’s desk attentively watching Kurt create a new pair of pants with ease.
He’d seen him make clothes for himself, a few times, and things for that singing club, but there was something special knowing he was making something for him. For Blaine.
He wasn’t used to being cared for like this. Even when his parents had been around, they had been distant at best - caught up in their own lives with no kind words left for him.
Being with Kurt was much, much better.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a gentle tap on his head. “Hmm?”
Kurt smiled at him from behind his computer. “I was wondering, you don’t really have a pair of proper shoes. I found a place that sells ones that would fit you. Would you like some? They’re not expensive at all.” The question was measured, slightly breathless. Blaine couldn’t help but stare.
Kurt had turned the screen around towards him, and on it were a pair of perfect shoes. Like the ones they’d seen in the magazine (“It’s called Vogue, Blaine.”). But even if Kurt said they weren’t expensive, it just... it was too much. He felt flustered and too light.
“Kurt, you can’t... it’s far too much.” Kurt’s face dropped for a second, and then he rolled his eyes in that way of his.
“Blaine, it’s not. If you don’t want them, that’s fine, but I like making and buying things for others. And I can’t exactly buy shoes for my dad, now can I? He’d never wear them.” They both giggled at the image of Burt in a pair of fancy dress-shoes.
“Still.” He said shifting. They looked so nice, but he simply couldn’t. “It feels like you’re doing everything for me and I can do anything for you.” He mumbled.
Quiet. “Oh Blaine. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” It was soft, just as soft as the gentle touch to his head. It felt odd today, since Blaine had poked curiously at the hair gel while Kurt got dressed. From a safe distance, of course. His hair wasn’t curly now like it usually was, and he’d probably not use it again, unless he wanted to get really dressed up.
“I don’t mean anything bad by it. I just wish I could do something for you in return.”
Kurt blinked at him, surprised. “But Blaine, you do. I’ve been happier during these last few weeks than I have been for years. Having your around, being able to talk to someone who won’t judge me is worth everything to me.” He shrugged. “You do plenty.”
He felt oddly choked up. “I... okay.” he murmured. Kurt perked up.
“Okay? Okay as in I can get them for you? If you don’t want them, I’ll just get them and put them in the shelf as decoration.” He looked so excited, Blaine couldn't help the laugh that escaped.
“Yes, okay. You can get them.” Kurt’s squeal was kind of adorable.
“Yay!” His smile dimmed. “Blaine, you have to tell me if I’m... coming on too strong or being too intense, or something. I know I can be a bit too much sometimes.”
He was quick to put a hand on Kurt’s own, looking up at him sharply. “You’re not! Definitely not.” He assured, and Kurt’s smile grew. God, why did he even think something like that?
“Thanks, that’s sweet.” He patted Blaine’s hands, and then snapped his fingers. “So! Shoes. I could plan a perfect pair of pants and suspenders for these...”
Blaine laughed.
They gradually fell into habits together - Blaine properly “moving out” into Kurt’s room. He hadn’t actually been in his nest for over a week; Lately it felt enclosed, isolated. Glum. Blaine picked up the habit of sitting in one of Kurt’s shirt pockets, if he wore an item with those. Kurt always helped him up and down the stairs, and always remembered to bring food back upstairs, if Burt was home.
Blaine now had plenty of clothes and bow ties.
Sometimes Kurt would come home with a tear stained face and yet another bruise, And Blaine would crawl up and put his hands against his cheek, pressing close and murmuring words of comfort. These days were all too common.
“I’m just so tired of it!” A heavy sigh. “I haven’t done anything to them, why won’t they just leave me alone!”
Kurt’s voice was high, sad. He was clutching a cup from the Lima Bean in one of his hands, slumped face down on his bed. Blaine felt slightly wary of the coffee.
He himself was perched on a pillow, right next to Kurt’s upturned cheek. “I wish they’d leave you alone too.” He whispered, hand placed gingerly on Kurt’s jaw. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Ugh.” Times like this, Blaine wasn’t really sure what to say. He’d asked if Kurt had told Burt once, and Kurt nearly had a panic attack.
“Do you want to watch a movie? Something happy.” He patted his cheek lightly, using his palm to brush away a stray tear. Times like this, Blaine wished he was bigger.
Kurt drew a deep breath, gave a watery smile and sat back up, clutching the coffee closer and taking a sip. “That sounds nice.” The coffee was placed on his bedside table.
Relief.
Blaine wasn’t the only one giving comfort, however. Nights when Blaine dreamed about his mother, Kurt would wake and wrap him up close to his heart, lips sometimes pressing against the top of his head in a soothing way.
“I know we didn’t get along, but I never thought they’d leave me.” He was forced out of his curled up position on the pillow by Kurt’s hands tugging him close to his chest.
“It wasn’t right. And it’s their loss, leaving you. You deserve so much better, Blaine.”
He sniffled. “I tried really hard, you know? I never went outside or into the house whenever they were around because they didn’t like how much I liked it. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
Kurt’s hands tightened around him for a second, comforting. “You didn’t do anything wrong. They did. You can’t blame yourself for their actions.”
Kurt sounded so wise, in that moment. Blaine still wasn’t sure if he believed that, though. He remembered his dad yelling and scowling at him; never happy no matter what Blaine did.
Maybe Kurt was right. But sometimes he just missed them, even his dad.
He hadn’t realised he was crying until Kurt pressed his lips against the top of his head, shushing him softly. “Blaine...”
With his ministrations, it didn’t take long for Blaine to calm down and fall asleep. Times like these he felt too vulnerable, but he trusted Kurt. Trusted him not to hurt him.
He’d listen whenever Blaine wanted to talk about them, would whisper words of comfort whenever Blaine felt much too small for the world.
Mostly though, they kept happy. They even had a pillow fight, even though it didn’t go over too well. Blaine got tangled up in the sheets and Kurt inhaled a feather. Blaine had freaked out a bit. Kurt had coughed.
But obviously, things weren’t going to stay the same forever.