FIC: Just Don't Call Me Claire, Part Four

[ladydreamer]

Title: Just Don’t Call Me Claire (4/8, completed)
Pairing: Klaine
Includes: coexisting crack, angst, and fluff
Warnings: misgendering, homophobia
Summary: Kurt tries to pass as a girl so that Blaine’s parents will be more supportive of their son... Naturally, this has to go well, right?
Author’s Note(s): Post Sexy AU. There are background pairings that are canon in the show, and they are sort of just uncritically there for the purpose of plot motion. I’d say that the POV is divided close to evenly among Kurt and Blaine, and then there are a few other cameo POVs.

Part One ♥ Part Two ♥ Part Three

Next Part:

Part Four

There’s the old image of the house of cards. Blaine had heard the expression before many times, but he’d never had a front row seat to watch one collapse.

It was just too fragile to withstand much of anything.

It had been almost three weeks since Blaine had watched his family accept him and his friend with open arms. Three weeks. Of chatting with his father on the phone about everyday things. Of spending every moment possible with his best friend. Of feeling like his life was clicking into place. Of life moving on from those dark, tense times to things brighter and better.

(Retrospectively, Blaine would realize this particular house of cards had been held together with spit, luck, and not talking to his parents all that often.)

Then.

“You know, if you think she’d be interested, I have some tickets to the theatre for you two.” Jonathan cut his meat as he spoke.

Blaine looked up in bafflement. He’d just been telling them a story about how Kurt had made him, Wes, and David all crack up over lunch... Had his father just changed the subject? No... Had his father just referred to Kurt as she? Was he joking?

“Um. I’m sure Kurt would like to go no matter what the play happens to be,” Blaine replied. He chose to try to ignore that as a pronoun flub he would have to address later.

“I know Kurt has her own sense of style, but I’d love to take her out to get a proper dress for the event,” Lea put in. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her out of pants or jeans. I’m sure she’ll be lovely if she dressed up a little, maybe wore a little eyeshadow.”

Blaine stared at them in abject disbelief. What the...

He turned to look at Tianna, who seemed similarly as mortified. She spoke first. Or rather, exploded:

“Christ, you guys! Have some fucking respect. Blaine’s sitting right here!”

“Watch your language, young lady,” Jonathan warned. He set down his knife and fork and looked between his two children. “What is wrong with you two? We just thought the evening would be nice. We’re happy that you and Kurt are spending so much time together. It’s such an improvement, Blaine. Your entire attitude has changed. I’m glad we can leave this gay thing behind us.”

Blaine’s heart dropped into his stomach. “You really think that Kurt is a girl. You really think that. Are you insane?”

Jonathan and Lea looked at one another, and before they could speak, Blaine stood abruptly and threw his fork down. It bounced once then clattered against the hardwood floor.

“I don’t believe you!”

“That was a boy?” Jonathan gaped in disbelief.

“Oh. Oh, my God.” Lea shook her head and fanned herself. “I thought... oh, God, Blaine, I was sure...”

Jonathan stood as well and stared Blaine down angrily. “Why the hell are you spending so much time with such a-”

“Whoa! Dad!” Tianna stood to stand by Blaine.

“Such a what? Why don’t you finish that sentence?” Blaine demanded.

“Honey, calm down,” Lea urged.

“No! Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? I’d been on cloud nine for the past three weeks thinking that you two had finally, finally started to accept who I am, and it’s all just because you’re so damn homophobic that you can’t even see that Kurt is obviously a boy!”

Tianna touched Blaine’s arm, but he jerked away from her.

“He dresses like a girl!” Jonathan shouted, his hands shaking. “He’s never corrected me when I referred to him that way!”

“I wonder why he would do that when you’ve been so impressively polite!” Blaine could feel his lips curling into a snarl. His heart was beating too fast, and he was sweating. He felt like he was running for his life.

So he bolted from the table and headed upstairs.

His father made it up a few minutes later and finding the door locked, pounded on it. “Blaine, you open this door!”

“Why should I?”

“Because I am your father! And you owe me some respect!”

“The same respect you’ve given me and my friends? Forget it!”

His hands and body moved more quickly than his mind, as though they’d known this was an option for a long time, and had only been waiting for his brain to catch up to the inevitable.

“Your mother and I only want what’s best for you-”

Blaine unlocked the door and shoved it open, knocking his father back a few steps. “How would you know what’s best for me? I told you about this four years ago, and you haven’t done one thing to try to figure out what’s best for your son. You’ve just hid your heads in the sand and tried to pretend I’d get over it somehow!”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jonathan demanded.

A suitcase in his hand, a duffle over his shoulder, Blaine glared at his father. “Out of here.”

Jonathan followed him down the staircase. “You aren’t leaving this house!”

“Stop me, dad. Stop me. Give me a good open-handed smack to the mouth and make your son straighten up and fly right!’

His mother and sister were in the foyer, with Tianna rubbing her sobbing mother’s back.

“Don’t you dare touch him, Jonathan!” Lea shrieked, running up to her husband.

“Lea, I... Why would I?”

Blaine slipped past them, slammed the front door behind him, and ran for his car.

“Blaine, wait!” Tianna pleaded as she ran after him. “Wait!”

“I can’t. I just can’t, Ti. I can’t live with this anymore. It’s killing me.”

He looked down at her for a moment, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and got into the car. She reached into her jeans and pulled out her wallet.

“Take this.” She handed him a wad of bills.

“Ti-”

“Shut up and take it for fuck’s sake.” Her lower lip and chin were wobbling, and her voice was tight, but she didn’t begin to cry.

Blaine took the money and gave her one last look.

“I understand. Because I love you.” She bit her lip, then ran back into the house.

***

The Hummel-Hudson household was just sitting down to dinner when there was a rather loud knock on the door. Kurt and Finn, who had done the honors that night of cooking (or rather, Kurt had let Finn help so they could dish about what was going on at McKinley), were dolling out the curry and rice.

“I’ll get it,” Burt announced, and he went to the door ready to tell someone to leave them the hell alone. When he opened the door, to his surprise, there was Blaine, red-eyed and strung out.

“What happened?” Burt asked immediately.

“Can I come in?” the boy pleaded.

Burt motioned for the kid to enter and shut the door behind him. “Take a breather, son.”

“I’m sorry. I know I didn’t give you any indication that I was coming,” Blaine began in a tone that was trying and failing to be polite and in control. He hardly sounded like himself.

Kurt ventured out of the kitchen, stopped for a second when he saw Blaine, then rushed toward his friend. “What happened? Are you okay? Why didn’t you call?”

Blaine shook his head. “I just... I need a place to stay tonight. My parents. They’re just such idiots.”

“Did they throw you out?” Kurt asked with alarm. His hands touched Blaine’s arm and shoulder gently.

Blaine shook his head. “I left. Dad and I had a fight, and I left.”

Burt sighed heavily. Carole had come into the room now, and she looked across the room at Burt. He could read the alarm in her face, and just nodded. There had always been something about the way that Blaine was so eager to attach himself to them that hadn’t quite set right. They hadn’t needed much more confirmation than the subtle hints from both the boys to figure Blaine’s parents were going to become a problem, at some point. And they’d probably say Blaine was the problem, while they were at it.

“I’m just so mad at them. I just... How can they be so dense?”

Kurt brows shot up in realization, and he covered his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Blaine. I’m so sorry.”

Blaine fixed his eyes on him, and his voice sounded more weary than angry. “You’re a mental patient. You know that, right?”

“Whoa, hey. That’s enough,” Burt said, stepping closer to them.

“No. He’s right. This is my fault,” Kurt said unhappily. He withdrew and crossed his arms tightly over himself.

Burt looked to Carole for help, but she looked just as confused as he did. “What’s your fault now?” he asked.

“Blaine leaving home. It’s my fault,” Kurt whispered. His eyes were already huge and threatening to spill over.

“How is that possible?” Finn asked.

“Boys, why don’t we all just sit down,” Carole reached over to them, but Blaine’s shoulders were so rigid that she stopped halfway.

He put his hands over his eyes. “It would have happened sooner. It isn’t your fault, Kurt, because if you hadn’t done this, it would have happened sooner.”

“I just wanted...” Kurt trailed off when Blaine met his eye again.

“My father freaked out when he met you, and I’m not going to stop spending time with you just because he’s so narrow-minded that hearing you speak, hearing you greet him politely, and pleasantly, is too much for him. He was rude and awful about you, and you heard him, didn’t you? I was so afraid you’d heard the things he said when we headed downstairs-” He threw his hands up. “I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t spend anymore time worried about how much he’s going to hurt my friends, or me, or Ti. I can’t. I only wish you hadn’t done this, so I could have left that house three weeks ago!”

“Blaine, Burt’s been working on the room above the garage. You can stay here tonight,” Carole offered, moving forward again.

“Did you bring anything with you?” Burt asked.

Blaine nodded. “Um. There’s some stuff in the car.”

“I’ll go get it.” Burt turned toward the door then paused to point at Blaine. “You hungry?”

“We made curry,” Kurt said quietly.

“I love curry,” Blaine replied.

Kurt watched Blaine for a moment cautiously, then said, “Pasensya ka na.”

Burt blinked. He was used to not understanding what the kids were talking about, but his brain didn’t register that at all.

Blaine frowned. “What?”

“Sorry? Pasensya ka na. Bear with me?” Kurt twisted his fingers as he looked at Blaine. “Maybe I said it wrong.”

Blaine’s lips curved slightly. “Is that Tagalog? Are you trying to learn Tagalog for me?”

“I got it off a website. I don’t know if it’s accurate.”

“I don’t speak that much of it,” Blaine admitted as he let Kurt take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. “But I’m not sure that phrase fits this occasion at all.”

Burt took a moment, and a deep breath, before heading outside to get their curly-haired foundling’s things. He didn’t know what Kurt had done, but he was sure glad that Blaine had decided to come to them, instead of run off somewhere else. He could see this going really wrong really quick. This was a situation where Blaine needed something, or someone, to cling to until he got the ground under him again. He didn’t know if they could do that for the kid, but he sure hoped so.

***

“He was asking if Kurt and I wanted tickets to the opera,” Blaine explained when they were all seated around the dinner table, and he was pressed for details. Kurt’s hand was a comforting weight on Blaine’s thigh, but he couldn’t look up at him, because he couldn’t handle Kurt’s pleading, apologetic eyes right now. “And Mama wanted to take him out to get a nice dress for the occasion.”

Everyone went very quiet. Kurt’s hand started to move away. Quickly, Blaine kept it there with the weight of his own hand, causing Kurt to sigh deeply.

“For real?” Finn leaned forward. “That’s... wow.”

“They thought Kurt was a girl. That’s why they’ve been so easy to get along with lately,” Blaine forked a potato and swirled it around in the sauce. “They let themselves believe, again, that I’m not really gay.”

“Blaine, I know I shouldn’t have let them think that-” Kurt began.

“You let them think you were a girl?” Burt interrupted.

If that tone had come at Blaine, he would have been terrified, but he realized that Burt’s bluntness didn’t always register as fear with his family. Anger wasn’t a zero sum game here, and they could fight without the worry of losing one another permanently.

Kurt straightened his neck out as he chose his words in his head. “I may have dressed a little differently to encourage the misunderstanding.”

Blaine watched Kurt turning away from his father’s gaze. Lack of fear, though, didn’t mean that Kurt and Finn didn’t highly value what their parents thought of them. Which made Blaine wonder if that didn’t mean they valued it much more than some other kids. “My parents have always seen what they wanted to see. You’re not a girl. You don’t look like a girl. And even if you did, seeing me spend time with a girl shouldn’t allow them to slip back into the La La Land where they pretend they don’t know their son is gay.”

“I know I shouldn’t have done it. It’s just so much better for you if they get their act together,” Kurt protested. “They’ve done studies-”

“You can’t make them do that.” Blaine glanced down at his curry. It was good. Didn’t taste like it would have been at home, but he’d expected that Kurt would make Masaman style, not Visayan style. “You can’t make my parents be good parents. You can’t trick them into accepting me.”

“Blaine-”

“I know that you care about me, and you just want to help.” He looked up at Kurt with a broken smile. “And I just have to wonder, how you can do something that I know just makes you so intensely uncomfortable and self-conscious, just because you care about what’s happening to my head, and my parents can’t take a single step in my direction to help. How does that happen?”

“I don’t think they don’t love you,” Burt butted in. “They’re just letting their own needs come before yours. It’s selfishness, and pride, not hatred. Not that the effect is any easier on you.”

“I don’t know what else to do anymore. I’ve been the best son I can be. I can’t stop being gay, but I get good grades in spite of everything, I’m popular at my school, I do the sports thing, and I never let my father see me queening out over fashion or things like that.”

“But it isn’t your job to change yourself to make it easier for them to parent you,” Burt said. He raised his hand and pointed sternly. “It’s their job to learn how to communicate with you and help you grow up. You’re not the adult here. They have more responsibility than you do, and it’s hard, but it isn’t something you can influence by changing yourself. Anyway, you kids have so many different interests these days. I don’t get why there have to be ‘girl’ and ‘boy’ interests. There are famous chefs who are men.”

“And Nascar drivers who are women,” Carole added.

“And you.” Burt pointed his fork at his son.

Kurt looked up and sucked his lips in. If Blaine weren’t still a little annoyed with him, he’d have thought it was cute.

Okay, maybe it was a little.

“You shouldn’t ever have to change yourself,” Burt said sternly. “You don’t have to do things like that. Not for anyone. Not for friends, not for me-” He punctuated that point with another stab of his fork in the air.”-and especially not for strangers and people you know are being homophobic.”

“I wanted things to be easier for Blaine.” Kurt looked over at him. “Me being around was making it worse.”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand hard. “No, my dad being jerk was making it worse. He could have chosen to act like a civilized person.”

“But I made him uncomfortable-”

Blaine quickly clamped his hand over Kurt’s mouth. “And he made you uncomfortable. I think you’re even.” He let his hand drop and shook his head. “Dammit, Kurt. You talk about these things all the time. I know you understand it better than I do. Take your own advice. ”

Kurt seemed to sulk for a moment, then said, “You’re right. I know that. But that isn’t easy when I can see how miserable you are. You were just so up when your parents were accepting you.”

“It wasn’t real. But... I’m not willing to go back. I’m serious about this. I’m not going to settle for them making this something we just don’t talk about and something I have to be ashamed of. I’m not going to. Not anymore.”

Blaine caught Burt and Carole conferring with each other silently, then Carole gave him a smile. “Well, we have the room, and you board most of the week at Dalton. I don’t see why you can’t spend your weekends here, until you get things worked out with your parents.”

Blaine looked around at the faces of the Hummel family, and he saw nothing but four good people generous enough to reach out to him, in both ways that were utterly off the wall and ways that were mundane, such as making sure he had food and shelter.

“I appreciate it,” Blaine said, and he truly meant it.

***

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to hold you down and tickle you until you wet yourself,” Blaine warned.

Kurt looked up from where he had been making the futon bed and held his hands up in surrender. He was just glad that Blaine was taking this with such exasperated tolerance.

“I should have told you sooner,” Kurt ventured.

“Probably.”

Blaine came over to sit on the bed. Kurt frowned at the now mussed sheets and decided to just sit with him.

“If you had, maybe we could have gone in on it together, had some madcap shenanigans running around fooling my parents. I could’ve picked out some outfits for you... I always sort of wanted to get adopted into your family,” Blaine admitted in a quiet, reflective tone.

“That might have been inevitable, anyway.” Kurt smiled and leaned against him. “Well, I’m out.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen it. You’ve seen the crazy. No going back into the closet now.”

Blaine cracked a smile, then put his fingers to his mouth. “Pfft. I kind of suspected already.”

“Was it the hair?”

Blaine’s laughter filled the room pleasantly. “Great acoustics in here.”

“Dad intended this room for Finn and I to share. For warbling. And practicing instruments.”

Blaine nodded and looked around at the bare walls. He sucked his cheeks in for a moment, then looked at Kurt. “Seriously, though? I actually... did not see it from you. I’m not sure if I think it’s great or terrible, but next time you come up with something that crazy, I want in. I mean, I’m Mr. Gap Attack. I’m the guy who tries to get the Warblers to wear different ties. I’m all over this kind of thing.”

“I admit this particular scheme was not very well thought through.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself. I understand why you did it, but I don’t want you doing those things. Not for me. Not for anyone. It’s bad enough to have the rest of the world out to get us...” Blaine shrugged. “You know, sometimes. I know it isn’t everyone always.”

“No, I get it. It does feel that way sometimes.” Kurt touched Blaine’s hand.

“I just like the feeling of... You know how when someone’s hassling us- at the movies or a coffee shop or somewhere- and we stand together and take care of it? I like that feeling a lot better than realizing you lied to me. I mean, I get it, but I don’t know. We’re just stronger the other way.”

“I hated lying to you. It wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t, but... it was kind of the worst part, even worse than swallowing it every time one of your parents... Anyway. I was just afraid of what it was going to do to you when you found out, how upset you’d be, how hurt, and I couldn’t bear for the one bringing that hurt to be me.”

Blaine raised his tickle fingers and moved them toward Kurt’s sides threateningly.

“Hey! I’m just being honest here.” Kurt scooted away and held up his hands again. “On pain of tickling, I am sorry for the deception. I mean it. And I hope your parents clue in really quick. All I can really do is hope, I guess.”

The mood shifted abruptly. Blaine covered his mouth and closed his eyes. “My mom keeps calling. I turned off my ringer, but she’s left all these messages. She’s really upset. Apparently Ti came out to them right after I left.”

Kurt whistled. Blaine tried to force a laugh, but tears started to trickle down his cheeks.

“Oh, Blaine. It’s hard, but it’s going to get better. It’ll get better, I promise.”

Boundaries be damned. Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and wiped his tears away. More came, and Kurt pulled Blaine to his chest and started to rock him a little. Caressed his curls. Kissed his forehead.

“C-can’t stop. You may h-have to sedate me,” Blaine tried to joke through his tears.

“Oh, hush. And anyway, I don’t have any drugs.” Kurt couldn’t think of anything to say to lighten up the mood. There was nothing in the world that would have consoled him if his father had rejected him last year.

The hair of madness struck upon him again. He shut his eyes and petted the back of Blaine’s hair and neck as he began to sing:

“Yesterday... all my troubles seemed so far away, but it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe, in yesterday. Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be. There’s a shadow looming over me. Oh, yesterday, came suddenly.”

Blaine calmed slowly, until he was just breathing shakily and holding onto Kurt like he needed something to keep him tethered to the Earth. When the song was finished, Kurt eased Blaine back onto the bed and played with his curls a little.

“You should try to sleep.”

“I dunno if I can. My head’s... everywhere.” Blaine looked up at him, his eyes wide and amazed.

Kurt’s fingers rested on Blaine’s temple. “What is it?”

“I uh...”

“Maybe I should get you some warm milk. Help you sleep.”

“Oh.” Blaine chuckled a little. “No thanks.”

“You want me to just stay here?” Kurt kicked off his shoes and situated himself on the futon with his back to the wall.

“Maybe. Do you really think everything’s going to work out?”

Kurt shrugged, then looked up at the light. The slow-spinning fan squeaked irritably. “I think it’s impossible not to love you. I think if I were your mother, I’d move Heaven and Earth to get you back safely. Even if they were within myself.”

Blaine said nothing, and when Kurt looked down, his long-lashed eyes were closed. Kurt petted his hair again, watching his beautiful face relax as he drifted to sleep.

***

When Blaine woke up the next morning, he was momentarily disoriented. A large, sparse room. White walls. Unfamiliar bed. He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, then spotted his bags in the corner.

The Hummels’ garage. He’d left home.

He sat up and pulled his legs closer to himself. Oh, shit. I ran away.

His eyes landed upon a purple Post-It stuck to the frame of the bed. He picked it up and smiled at the neatly printed handwriting. Kurt’s for sure.

Had to go to therapy. You were still sleeping. I’ll be back. Go get some breakfast! Carole makes great pancakes.

Blaine blinked at the matter-of-fact message, then rubbed his hand over his forehead at the memory of some of the things he’d said last night. He just forgot sometimes that Kurt really did see a therapist, at his father’s request. He didn’t seem sensitive about being called crazy, though, not the way he was about gender. He’d told Blaine very plainly when he’d started going and didn’t seem to mind answering his questions, when they came up. As though it were more normal than not to have to talk to someone... and maybe that was true for the bulk of gay kids who had been through such intense bullying.

Blaine was starting to wonder if he shouldn’t get his head checked himself. He’d never gotten so angry, not in all his life, the way he had at his father last night. He’d never cried so hard and so helplessly. Now he just felt utterly ungrounded. Like his world was literally upside down, and he couldn’t find where to put his feet. And he really wished that Kurt was back already because he didn’t want to be alone.

Maybe he should have been more angry with Kurt. Kurt sure seemed to think so. But he couldn’t make himself feel that, not when thinking back on the last few weeks just brought him more disorientation and red hot rage at his parents. How could they do this? There was some willingness to be deceived there, just as there always had whenever they had a way not to deal with their children’s huge flaws.

Or flaws as they saw them. Even though he was the one who had left, Blaine couldn’t shake the feeling of being abandoned, left to the side for more important, more worthwhile things. Things that were easy, or could be optimized to the way his parents wanted them.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and got up. He had fallen asleep in his clothes from the night before. When Kurt had sung to him, making a lovely song more beautiful with the sympathy that bled through his flawless voice, and had stroked Blaine’s head like he was a little child in need of comfort.

Blaine stopped in the middle of the room, his chest painfully full. His heart thumped every beat as though it had just remembered something he should have known all along.

Kurt. Kurt. Kurt.

When he’d laid down after Kurt’s song, he had gazed up at Kurt and seen him with new eyes. Blaine didn’t know what had changed in that moment. The fact that Kurt had done something that, frankly, caused himself mental distress just to try to make things better for Blaine? The honest admission of his own flaws and foolishness? The beauty of his voice? The way Kurt fell so easily into the role of a caretaker... as well as the role of valiant defender?

Blaine had been fond of Kurt from the start. Even when he was crumbling before Blaine, even when he was burned out and desperate, Blaine had enjoyed Kurt’s company. The situation had gotten worse, and Blaine had gotten to keep him at Dalton. And ever since then, Kurt had been, slowly, sewing pieces of himself back into place. Transforming himself from this broken little bird into a flaming phoenix.

(Kurt would have laughed at the metaphor of him as a flaming phoenix, and that was exactly why Blaine liked it.)

He’d gotten his humor back, his fire, his wit, his strength. His Kurtness.

And last night, amidst his anger, his frustration, his grief, Blaine had felt his heart fluttering as Kurt sang to him. As Kurt held him gently. As he ran his fingers over Blaine’s hair. Like Blaine was something precious and worth the attention.

He was very afraid of this feeling for Kurt. It was so big, so unwieldy. He could barely think straight about the givens in his life, let along this potentiality that... might be better left unknown.

He had to be sure. He couldn’t lead Kurt on. He cared about him too much to do that to him again (and be aware of it this time), and their friendship had weathered enough weirdness and, frankly, fucking up, from both of them.

As Blaine reached for his bag, he paused. He wasn’t sure he’d ever before taken a moment to think about whether confessing his feelings would hurt the person or not. Mostly because he thought being told you were loved was such a good thing that it couldn’t hurt, could it? But it could, if he was just latching on to Kurt while he was confused about his life. Kurt would be hurt if Blaine withdrew his affections after giving them. And Blaine didn’t want Kurt hurting any more than Kurt wanted it for him.

He wasn’t always terribly good at reading Kurt, and that was a problem. He wasn’t even sure if Kurt still liked him that way. Sometimes he wondered if he did, and sometimes it seemed like he’d put it behind him, but the recent fiasco told Blaine that Kurt was a better actor than he’d previously known, and if nothing else, Kurt cared about him and would put his needs before his own. Maybe he was just getting nervous about the idea of this happening, and of screwing it up and losing Kurt.

Maybe he already knew how he felt. Maybe this had been under the surface for a while now, waiting for him to see it for what it was and what it could mean.

“Well. Shit.”

He grabbed a set of clothing and headed down into the main house. Sure enough, he could smell pancakes cooking as soon as he entered, and Carole was busy cooking breakfast.

“Morning! Did you sleep well?” she asked cheerfully.

Blaine set his clothes down on the table. “I slept pretty hard. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay.”

“Nonsense. You needed a place to stay. We have the room. Burt and I are pretty much in agreement that if things got so heated between you and your father that you felt you had to leave, then your instinct was good enough for us. Maybe you two need some space, and he can think out what he needs to do to make this right with you.” She turned and put a heavy plate of pancakes on the table. “You should eat. Then you can go upstairs and use the boys’ shower. I’m sure Kurt has some extra product you can use.”

Blaine smiled. Carole had always been extremely friendly with him and thought of things like haircare, as though it was perfectly normal for her boys to be worried about that stuff. A few minutes later, Finn and Burt tramped in and sat down.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Finn asked as he poured himself some juice.

“Okay, I guess.” Blaine sat down and leaned back a little as Carole came up to him to put juice in front of him and start to put food on his plate. That reminded him of his mother, a little, and his eyes stung.

He couldn’t let himself think about what she would be doing this morning.

“I saw that you guys tucked in pretty early.” Burt waited until Carole had her back turned and grabbed a single slice of bacon. “Just make yourself at home, Blaine. Kurt’ll be back in a few minutes, probably.”

“Yeah. Was he there all night?”

“Yep. I could hear ‘im singing up there, and later I came in to turn out the light. He kept the door open so we could check on you, but I don’t think he moved, until I came to get him for his appointment.”

Carole came by and smacked Burt’s hand, causing him to drop the bacon.

“Do you have glee practice today, Finn?” Carole asked.

“Nope. We don’t have a competition to prepare for, so we get our weekends back.”

“I can put you to work in the shop,” Burt offered.

Finn chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. That might be more fun on a Saturday morning.” He munched happily on his bacon. “How’s the winning team doing? You guys got a set list yet?”

“The Council have been arguing about what to do at Nationals.” Blaine spread his hands. “Thad likes pop, David likes rock, and Wes doesn’t like anything.”

“Except for you.” Kurt came into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and sat next to Blaine. Carole set a plate of fruit and eggs in front of him. “Thanks.”

She touched his head fondly and sat next to her husband.

“Wes likes things,” Blaine replied. His voice sounded almost shy. What was he doing? It was just Kurt.

“The Council can only agree that Blaine is amazing.” Kurt smirked at him.

“And that you need a solo,” Blaine muttered.

Kurt reached for the salt and started in on his eggs. “That’s not really going to happen.”

“How’d it go this morning?” Burt asked.

“Okay.” Kurt forked a piece of melon. “Nothing too Earth shaking. We’re still talking about the same things we did the first day.”

Carole touched Kurt’s arm. “Just be patient. You haven’t been going that long.”

Kurt nodded, then looked to Blaine. “What do you want to do today?”

“I... have no idea. I’m sorry... I...” Blaine looked down at his plate. “I’m sorry for calling you a mental patient last night. That was kind of insensitive.”

“I am a mental patient,” Kurt pointed out. “I just got back from my therapist. It’s the topic of discussion.”

“Still.”

“Anyway, you were upset with me, justifiably. I’m just happy you’ve forgiven me. And I assure you, when I’m not pleased with something you said, you will know about it. There will be people in Zimbabwe who know about it.”

“For real. You will,” Finn said. “The silence will make you go deaf.”

The two brothers looked at each other and laughed. Kurt and Finn weren’t even brothers by blood, but if he hadn’t known it, Blaine wouldn’t have guessed. It was refreshing to watch them together.

“Don’t worry about me,” Kurt instructed. He bumped Blaine’s shoulder and looked over him with that same expression of caring devotion that he’d worn the night before.

It made Blaine shudder a little.

***

By the time David called that afternoon, Kurt and Blaine were slumped in exhaustion on the edge of the stage in the McKinley High auditorium, dangling their legs off the side. They had (or rather Kurt had) convinced the janitor that they were there for practice, and had spent the bulk of the morning singing their hearts out and flirting to ABBA songs. As far as that particular iconic band was concerned, Kurt wouldn’t kick it out of bed, but it wasn’t his first choice of company, either.

But Blaine liked it, and the name of the game today was making Blaine smile.

Tianna had called earlier that morning, and Blaine had slipped away from the rest of the family to take that call... Of course, Kurt had lurked nearby to keep and eye on him. It was the second time he’d ever seen Blaine cry.

Watching him talk to David, it looked like Kurt might witness a third.

“Please, please don’t tell my parents where I am. If my mom shows up, she’s going to cry, and if she cries, I’m going to cave. I can’t, David...”

So Kurt scooted closer and hugged his arm around Blaine. Blaine turned to him with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t anger... but his face seemed frustrated, and flushed? Was this Blaine’s first blush? Where had that come from? Blaine defined unflappable.

Kurt quickly decided that Blaine had to be embarrassed from becoming so emotional. He touched Blaine’s face tenderly.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.”

***

It’s just me.

It’s just Kurt.

It was obvious that Kurt wasn’t putting the moves on him. Blaine couldn’t imagine what Kurt ‘putting the moves on’ would look like... but it might involve a song from Wicked, some glitter, and hand holding. Maybe a flash of naked shoulder? No, Kurt was just trying to comfort him, in the best way he knew how. In the way that had become comfortable with each other, complete with the tender touches.

Blaine sighed and turned his cell on speaker phone. “Kurt’s here.”

“My surprise is overwhelming. How’s our guy, Kurt?” David asked.

Kurt hitched one foot up on the edge of the stage. “We just went through every song in ABBA Gold.”

David laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“Yep.”

“I’m going to be fine, guys. I just... I just don’t know what to do next. I can’t live with the Hummels forever,” Blaine said.

“I don’t know about that.” Kurt smirked impishly. “I mean, after what I did, I think we can probably convince my dad we owe you the stay.”

“Oh, come on.”

“What did Kurt do?” David sounded more than a little intrigued. “Are you two dating?”

“No!” they said in unison.

At that moment, Blaine could practically feel Kurt becoming self-conscious. Kurt withdrew his arm, distanced himself from Blaine slightly, and hugged a leg to his chest, trying to look nonchalant. It felt like they’d suddenly switched places. Now Blaine was small and hurting, and needing a friend and a guide more than boyfriend...

But it wasn’t like Blaine didn’t know Kurt better now, or that Kurt was incapable of being both a friend and a boyfriend. Kurt had nurturing in his bones. Still, Blaine could see why Kurt was holding back. They’d already set this thing aside, more than once.

“Sorry! I was just trying to inject some levity into this. Do you want to meet up with a few Warblers later, or should I leave you be? We’ll all be there for you, Blaine. You know that, right? If Mr. Hummel stops wanting you there, you have so many friends who can take you in for a weekend or two.”

“I know. I really appreciate the offer. You have no idea.”

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry that you have to know about stuff like this. I was always a little worried this was gonna happen, but I’d hoped that with us around you’d know you had some place to go.”

Blaine had been staring down at his shoes as David spoke, and he turned to Kurt again. “Funny how you guys knew before I did.”

“Well, Scarecrow, we did meet your father, who gave us all the once over. We didn’t strategically drop mention of our girlfriends into the conversation for no reason, you know.”

“I hate that all my friends feel like they have to placate my parents. What difference does it make if I’m in a choir with fifteen other gay guys? I can’t date them all!”

David just laughed his warm, throaty laugh. “We like you. We want to look out for you. That’s all.”

“If the love of my friends were enough to fix my life, I think it would have been made sparkling and new ten times over already.” Blaine drew in a breath and forcibly made himself stop staring at Kurt, who was now watching the doors with a frown. “I need to go.”

“Call if you need anything. And take care. You too, Kurt.”

“I will.” Kurt hopped off the stage and headed for the doors.

Blaine put his phone away and watched Kurt. His posture was the same fierce fighter’s stance that Blaine had only seen once. When Blaine had come down to McKinley to talk to Karofsky and gotten himself slammed into a fence. It had been Kurt who had pushed the boy off of him. Physically shoved the same boy who had Kurt terrified to go back into the hallways.

It was just so hard to cover yourself, alone. Maybe it was easier, with someone at your back. To stand tall. To fight.

Blaine jogged after him, and was a few feet behind when Kurt hefted the door open. It was Kurt’s old glee director, and he looked surprised to have been discovered.

“What are you guys doing in here? I got a call that some of the glee kids were down here practicing without me,” Mr. Schuester said after a moment of awkward silence.

“It’s my fault,” Blaine said quickly. “Kurt was trying to cheer me up, so we came down here to practice.”

“ABBA cures all wounds.” Kurt met Blaine’s eye. “Temporarily, anyway.”

“Okay. But we can’t let you practice in here without supervision.” Schuester paused, then raised his hands and shook his head. “It’s a liability issue, not uh...”

Why was it that everyone in the world thought they were already dating? Why didn’t they get to decide that in their own time?

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. “I think we’re done, anyway. Are we done?”

“I”m starving, so yeah. We’re done.” Blaine headed back to the stage to get their things while Kurt talked to Schuester for a moment.

“-going to be fine. We’re handling it,” Kurt was saying as Blaine returned.

“Good. Good. Okay. Well, if you want to use the auditorium again, just let me know ahead of time.” Schuester gave Blaine a nod, which Blaine guessed was supposed to be comforting, but he hardly knew this guy. All he really knew was that he’d been right there when Kurt was being bullied to death, and it had continued and continued.

Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand, which made his stupid heart speed up, and quickly took them in the direction of the parking lot.

“You must be really hungry,” Kurt said lightly.

“I just don’t want to be around anyone else, right now. That’s all.” Blaine tossed their things in the back of Kurt’s SUV and leaned against the car, closing his eyes.

“I’ll never complain about that.” Kurt leaned next to him, but didn’t touch him.

Everything inside of Blaine screamed for him to just let this be, let whatever was in him settle while he dealt with his family issues, and his own issues, and everything else. But Blaine had never been one to check his impulses, not about things like this, and it was hard, now, telling them that they couldn’t have what they wanted. And now that he knew it, he wanted it a lot.

He rolled to his side and put his arms around Kurt’s neck. As though he’d been waiting for Blaine to initiate contact this time, Kurt responded instantly, embracing Blaine firmly and cupping the back of his neck.

“It’ll get easier,” Kurt promised. “It’s not even been 24 hours. It’s okay to still be upset.”

“Yeah,” Blaine managed. He rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“You’re also with someone who will absolutely not judge you if you need to cry. Or scream. Or scream at me.”

Blaine let out a soft little laugh. “I’m not going to scream at you.”

“Maybe you should. Good for the circulation.”

“Not mine. Not right now.” A smile tugged at Blaine’s lips. “You’re the perfect height to be a Blaine-rest, y’know.”

Kurt giggled. “I knew there was a reason for that growth spurt.”

They were comfortably silent with one another for a minute or so before Kurt started looking over his shoulder.

“I don’t want to disturb your Blaine-rest, but I just heard a car, and sometimes the athletes come up here to practice on Saturdays...” Kurt turned Blaine around gently and walked him to the other side of the car, where he opened the door. “Let’s go find you some comfort food.”

“You’re going to be a great mom someday.”

Kurt just laughed as he got in and turned the car on. “Okay. Now if we run into any jocks, it’ll be literal. What are you in the mood for?”

“I dunno. I only ever come to Lima to visit you.”

“I don’t know why. Surely folks from miles around are dying to visit the famous Lima... Oh, wait, I’m thinking of people from the future.”

Blaine relaxed back in his seat. “And what are the people from the future coming to see?”

“Where it all started, of course. The place where you and I used to bang around before we became superstars. Rocked the charts with our solo albums as well as the numbers we collaborate on. Toured the world together. Took all the leads in stage and film. Not to mention your memoir. Blaine Warbler: Not for the Birds.”

The next few minutes were consumed by Blaine cracking up and simultaneously trying not to crack up. It was impossible, and Kurt looked terribly pleased with himself.

“People will visit McKinley, see the stage, and look on in awe at the places where I got tossed in the dumpster or shoved into lockers or down the stairs,” Kurt continued. “They’ll drop by King’s Island and wonder haplessly how everyone’s favorite rockstar once performed there in lederhosen.”

Blaine wiped tears from his eyes. “Stoooop!”

“Fans will wear shirts with little canaries on them, in memorial of our dear Pavarotti.”

“Oh, no. That’s sad.”

“I know. I never should have let Nick take care of him.” Kurt sighed. “Oh! Here. They have great sandwiches. The grilled cheese on cranberry walnut bread? Amazing.”

“Do you think they have coffee?” Blaine unbuckled after Kurt had found a spot and looked the place over. 

“Yes, you addict. They have coffee. They even have lattes.” Kurt bounced out. “And open mic nights. I’ve been to a few... Do not tell Rachel. I don’t want her trying out her writing abilities on the unsuspecting public.”

Blaine chuckled and took Kurt’s offered arm. “Your secret is safe. But if you’re reading poetry, I want a chance to see it.”

“I’m not sure Lima’s ready for what I would write, but when I do, you’ll be the first to see it.”

Blaine stopped as the approached the door to the little shop. “I will?”

“When someone can honestly tell you that your performance looks like an expression of gastrointestinal distress, you know they can give you criticism.” Kurt opened the door for him.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Blaine stepped in and looked around at the shop’s open space, with little round tables and wooden bookshelves littered with odds and ends. He started to take out his wallet.

“I’m paying, dummy.” Kurt took Blaine’s hand away from his back pocket and led him up to the front. “Yes, you did. But that’s fine. Helpful criticism is something most people have to pay for. These are things I would want to know before getting up in front of hundreds of people to perform.”

“I guess that’s true.” Blaine let their hands stay together as Kurt scanned the menu. “I don’t suppose I could get you do to your “Animal” dance for me later.”

Kurt’s expression almost made Blaine start cracking up again. High brows, tight lips, and pink, pink cheeks. But he resisted.

“I-I don’t think I can take any more lessons on how to be sexy. Can we just agree that I should stick to Broadway, Celine Dion, and the Beatles?”

“No, I mean-” Blaine curled his fingers into claws and danced them in the air. “I thought that was cute.”

“Cute.” Kurt dipped his head. “That’s not sexy. That’s Gaga.”

He swiveled his head from side to side and did the claws. The young man behind the counter chuckled at them and turned to wipe down the counter.

Blaine clapped. “Yay!”

“What I can show you is my outfit from theatricality week last year. We did “Bad Romance.””

“Sounds great. I love your outfits.”

“They are pretty great. Have you seen my Cheerios uniform?”

Blaine came up to the counter and let Kurt order for them. Tonight thoughts of his family would be running through his head, rampant and unchecked, and sleep would not come as easily as it had the night before when he was too exhausted to think at all. But for now, he could let Kurt distract him, as he seemed all too willing to do, and try to catch his breath before rushing forward.

Part Five