Lights Will Guide You Home, Ch. 11/?
Media: Fic
Title: Lights Will Guide You Home
Rating: R
Spoilers (if any): nada
Warnings (if any): alcohol, fluff!!
Word Count: 5614
Summary: 13 years from now, Blaine and Kurt have made a fabulous life for themselves, but there's something missing...
A/N: So, you know how I said real life was going to get in my way? Well I was right in the WORST way. There have been so many interruptions while I've been writing this chapter it's kind of ridiculous. So if it feels disjointed, that's probably because it IS.
But. Enjoy - because in this one, I'm giving the people what they want :)
Lights Will Guide You Home
Chapter 11
Blaine did a lot of running over that Thanksgiving in Ohio. Sometimes he ran with Finn. Sometimes he jogged with Burt, who needed to be more active anyway. Sometimes Kurt wanted to run with him, but he refused, saying that his partner's physical state was still too fragile. Sometimes he ran by himself.
Running was surprisingly helpful.
He could think when he ran. It gave his body something to do so his head could clear and he could concentrate. He thought about a lot of things - Violet, Kurt, his parents (who he really couldn't even call parents anymore), Kurt's family. Amazingly enough, after that first terrible night where he'd run so hard he gave himself a migraine and sobbed into Kurt's chest for hours after that, he'd made peace with the fact that his father had disowned him. What he'd said at their house was true - Kurt was more family to him than they had ever been. And Kurt's family was too. He didn't need the negativity from his parents any more than he needed pocketknives or razor blades, and he was letting it go as best he could. His therapist would be proud.
And speaking of proud - he was so impressed with the way in which Kurt had handled Thanksgiving. Blaine had been a little concerned about him, what with the major emphasis on food there, but something about his family made him relax. His OCD was always better when he was with them and away from work. He'd eaten normal-sized portions that entire week, never commenting on how he felt frantic after a meal like he normally did.
Things were getting better.
Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, Blaine and Kurt went back home to New York. Blaine was finishing up a project which had a pre-Christmas deadline, and they had more therapy appointments to attend. He had been correct - his therapist was incredibly proud of him, commenting on the leaps and bounds in his progress over the last month. Even Blaine admitted that despite the outcome, talking to his parents (or yelling at them, if he was being honest) had been the right decision. He had closure for the first time in his life, not feeling like he had to pretend or skirt around a subject that was so central to who he was. Though the end result was not what he'd hoped for, it was still the end, and he was relieved to have finally escaped the limbo of the previous fifteen years.
He could feel a tangible difference in himself, and in Kurt too, and it was a good difference. Blaine felt like they'd been ripped apart through all this, leaving open wounds in both their sides, but they'd managed to reconnect themselves before the skin mended so that as they healed, they simply healed back together. They were communicating and functioning as a unit again, something they'd lost over the horrible three months that summer. And partly as therapy homework assignments, but mostly just because they enjoyed being together, they were scheduling weekly dates again. Sometimes they went to the park, sometimes they caught a musical, sometimes they stayed in and ordered take out and “watched a movie” but never really caught the plot for all the teenage-esque making out they were doing. Kurt had been spot on when he said that they fit together like nobody else fit together - they were like interlocking puzzle pieces, and as hard as it had been, the struggle to rediscover each other had been well worth their effort.
* * * * * * * *
Kurt darted happily into the condo after work one evening, waving something around in the air.
“You'll never guess what we just got in the mail!” he exclaimed.
Blaine looked up from his computer. “What?”
Kurt handed it to him. It was a rectangle of dark blue cardstock with a red border, and a red calligraphic “D” in the middle. He flipped it over, and read:
You are cordially invited to attend
the Fifteen-Year Reunion
of the Dalton Academy Class of 2011
on December 10th
at 7 o'clock in the evening
at the home of
Dr. and Mrs. David Roberts
956 Royal Ridge Rd.
Wellesley, Massachusetts 02481
Attached to that was a square of red cardstock that included a few more details regarding the reunion:
The theme of the night is
“I Wish I Could Go Back to College”
Attire is casual.
We request that only Dalton graduates attend,
(meaning no spouses, significant others, or children)
and apologize for any inconvenience this might cause.
Please plan to stay overnight at the Roberts' house.
Blaine was confused. “Kurt … neither one of us were in that class. We both graduated in 2012 - from McKinley - so why did we get invited?”
“Because of this,” he answered, whipping out a large manila envelope from behind his back. “Read it.”
Enclosed in the envelope was a letter, and a stack of sheet music.
Blaine and Kurt,
The 2010-2011 Warbler members have been invited to perform at our class reunion. I know you guys are busy, but we were really hoping that Blaine would agree to be lead again, and that maybe you could work on the duet we've got enclosed in this package. Also enclosed is an itinerary for travel plans for everyone - we were hoping that all the Warblers could come earlier in the afternoon to rehearse and catch up before the party actually starts, because it might get a bit crazy. Call me and let me know if you can perform with us. Hope you're doing well. Lisa sends her love.
-Wes
“Kurt, we have to go,” Blaine said, his eyes twinkling. “It's been so long since we've seen them...”
“Of course we're going,” Kurt replied. “I know how much you miss them. And how much you miss performing with them.”
Having attended Dalton for not even a full year, Kurt didn't have the bond with the Warbler boys that Blaine did. He loved them for what they did for him, providing a safe haven from the stormy trials of Karofsky's bullying, giving him space to breathe and relax and just be Kurt Hummel. And Dalton held only the fondest of memories for him (obviously, since the second he'd set foot on those stairs a certain hazel-eyed boy had stolen his heart, through and through), but if he was being perfectly honest, they were Blaine's friends, who'd been kind and generous enough to take him under their wings for a time. When Blaine had first come to Dalton, he had done the same thing that Kurt had, run to the safest place he could find, but he found a niche at the school, thrived there like Kurt never could, and Wes and David were his very best friends. The Warblers, in essence, were Blaine's New Directions.
They still kept in close contact with Wes and David, seeing them and their wives and kids if they were ever in New York, or if Blaine and Kurt happened to be passing through Chicago (where Wes lived) or Boston (David's home). But they hadn't seen the other Warblers since college, when life got too busy and people moved too far away to try to remain close to everyone. They still exchanged Christmas cards and were all Facebook friends, but that didn't make up for the fact that they hadn't seen each others' faces in far too long.
For the following two weeks, Blaine was lit up like a Christmas tree, bursting with excitement and anticipation. Kurt hadn't seen him that hyper in over 6 months. He was thrilled to be performing again - he tackled their practice sessions with a new intensity, and Kurt was thankful for the timing. The old Blaine was back, confident, sometimes silly, and he was loving every minute of it.
* * * * * * * *
The day of the tenth, the couple took the early train to Boston and headed to the Faneuil Hall Marketplace. David, and Thad, also from the city, were meeting everyone who flew or took the train at the Marketplace in their SUVs in order to pile everyone in and drive back to David's to practice. Kurt and Blaine had arrived a bit early, wanting to window-shop and stretch their legs after the 5-hour train ride. Hand-in-hand, they walked around the snow-covered marketplace, decorated impeccably and looking like a winter wonderland, until their fingers froze in their gloves and their faces were getting frostbitten in spite of their scarves.
“I think now is a good time for a coffee date,” Kurt said, his teeth chattering.
They ducked into the closest Starbucks, which was warm and inviting, and shed their outermost winter clothes. Blaine's hair was going wild after being encased in a beanie for several hours, and Kurt reached out to try and fix it.
“No use, babe, I'm just going to have to wet it down when we get to David's,” he said, stepping up to the counter to place their coffee order. Once it was ready, they sat down at a small table by the window, thawing their hands on their mugs and enjoying the wintry scenery.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Blaine asked after a long silence.
“I'm just thinking about how crazy life is,” Kurt said simply. “I never would have thought in a hundred million years that things would turn out the way they have.”
Blaine placed his hand over his partner's, drawing small circles on it with his thumb.
“Life is crazy. But it's good too. I'm glad I'm here with you.”
“I'm glad I'm here with you, too.” Kurt scooted his chair over closer to Blaine's, and the shorter man softly rested his head against Kurt's shoulder, now solid again. Blaine sent up silent prayers to the heavens, thanking whatever powers that be for Kurt's return to health. They sat like that, Kurt's arm around Blaine, until Blaine's cell phone buzzed. The text was from David.
Just got to the marketplace. Are
you and Kurt here?
He quickly shot a text back.
We're at Starbucks. Where are you?
And David answered him.
75 State Street Garage - it's close to
you. Space #317 on 3rd floor.
“That was David - he's here,” Blaine said. “Are you ready to brave the cold again?”
“If we must.”
They bundled up in coats and scarves and hats again, walking the few blocks to the parking garage. After a ride up to the third floor in the elevator (and a few stolen kisses), they stepped out to see David standing outside of his large dark blue Navigator. His face lit up at the sight of the two men, and he ran forward to meet them.
“Blaine!” he exclaimed, nearly tackling the shorter man in his rush to hug him.
Blaine hugged him back. “David, it's been too long.”
Kurt stepped forward and gave him a hug as well.
David motioned for them to follow him. “Come on guys, it's warmer in the car, and everybody else will be here soon.”
They climbed into the Navigator, catching up with David for a bit. Following his father's footsteps, he was an up-and-coming neurosurgeon in the Boston area. He'd joined his father's practice, planning to take it over after he retired. He was married to a lovely woman named Rose and had a 2-year-old boy, and a girl on the way. Blaine and Kurt had kept him and Wes up to date on everything that had happened in the last year, and he was asking how they were doing when Thad pulled up in a Range Rover. He got out, moved to the car with the other men, and they talked until everyone arrived.
The group of 12 men milled about the cold parking garage, exchanging hugs and greetings, when Wes walked to a spot right in the middle of David's and Thad's car. He took a small box out of his jacket.
*Bang* *Bang* *Bang*
The former Warblers turned around to see Wes hitting a gavel against a little square of wood he'd brought along for the occasion, and they burst into laughter at the familiar sight.
“Order!” he said in a booming, authoritative voice. “The Warblers will come to order!” As always, they obeyed (after a few more seconds of talking, anyway), and the parking garage became quiet. (It had surprised no one when Wes went to law school after graduating from Yale in hopes of becoming a judge someday.)
“I welcome you to the Reunion of the Dalton Academy Class of 2012! It has been fifteen years since I, along with several more of you, graduated from Dalton Academy. We consider it an honor that all of you were willing to come so far to sing for the class. It is my distinct pleasure to be in the company of such esteemed men. Look around, Warblers - we have done our school proud.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows toward Blaine in amusement at the former council leader's formality. Some things never changed.
David took over from here.
“Wes and I, the co-planners of this event, have established several ground rules. First: this party is exclusive to the Class of 2012 and the 2010/2011 Warblers. No spouses or significant others may be in attendance-” And here, he broke from his ceremonious speech, “Except for you, Blaine and Kurt, you were always our exception.” He regathered his reserve and continued. “Second: once the party commences, you are in Vegas. What happens at the party, stays at the party. This means no facebook tags, no posting to social networking sites, no incriminating evidence. We don't want anyone being reprimanded at work for participating in our wild little reunion. Third: Wes and I have high expectations that this will be the party of the century. You as Warblers are a part of that expectation. Do not let us down. That will be all.”
Wes banged his gavel again. “Meeting adjourned.”
Laughter and chatter broke out among the men again as they piled in the vehicles which would take them to David's. In his car were Kurt, Blaine, Jeff, Trent, Richard and Nick. Wes, Luke, Flint and Ethan piled into Thad's Range Rover with him, and they were off.
They drove for half an hour, the houses becoming bigger and bigger as they drove further and further into the suburbs of Boston. Finally they arrived at a large, gated estate that never failed to take Kurt's breath away. Blaine's parents' house was intimidating, but it looked like a shack compared to David's sprawling mansion. He had acres on acres of property, and the house itself was a large Tudor-style that was incredibly formal on the outside, but managed to be warm and inviting and quite comfortable on the inside despite being nearly 10,000 square feet of luxury. They parked the cars (the driveway had actual parking spaces) and the now-rowdy men piled out of the cars.
“So what did you do with Rose and Connor this weekend?” Blaine asked David with a grin as they walked inside. “I'm assuming they won't be present for the shenanigans...”
David laughed. “No, most certainly not. They're visiting Rose's parents, actually - it worked out well, since she hasn't seen them since she's been pregnant this time.”
Kurt was looking around the mansion with an appraising eye. People were coming in and out, setting up rooms, decorating, and the kitchen smelled of something delicious.
“This is going to be quite the party,” Kurt said. Wes came up behind him, clapping his hands on Kurt's tall shoulders.
“You have no idea. We've been planning for months now.”
After a few more minutes of visiting, Wes got out his trusty gavel again.
“Order! The Warblers will come to order!” He really, really missed saying that.
They once again obediently got quiet and turned to face their ringleader.
“Let's all head up to the studio to practice. I assume you've all been going over your music at home?”
“Of course we have, Councilor Wes,” Jeff smirked from the back of the group. Wes shot him a Look, but he had a smile on his face.
They grabbed their music, and headed up the winding staircase to join their voices together once more.
* * * * * * * *
By 7:30 that evening, the party was in full-swing. David and Wes had really pulled out all the stops, appropriate for a reunion of men of that caliber. But instead of making it a formal event with a sit-down dinner and wives and awkward conversation, they'd decided late one night while out having drinks that it would be so much more fun to revisit the college experience, which they both missed enormously. With the jobs that most of the Dalton graduates had, a night of irresponsibility and play would be a welcome escape from the burden of the real world.
They'd turned David's enormous house into the ultimate college-esque playhouse. Each room held a different part of the experience - on the tamer side of things, they'd set up every video game known to man in the media room, cups for beer pong in the kitchen, and an enormous spread of simple but delicious food on the dining room table. That's where the tame ended, and the wild began. In the billiard room, they'd set up a smoke machine for ambience and a keg to take over where the smoke ended. There were poles draped with exotic dancers illuminated in blue lights in the large basement, music was blaring, and an open bar had liquor flowing freely. Upstairs in another room, more exotic dancers performed under black lights, and they had tubs of black light body paint all over the room with which they could decorate themselves (or their inebriated friends.) In the bathroom, there were “mermaids” serving jello shots from the bathtub.
Wes and David stood back for a while, watching the action unfold.
“This may have been the best idea we've ever had,” David said proudly.
“Do you want to put the Warbler bug in their ears soon?” Wes asked.
David agreed, and they called Thad over and told him it was go time. The three men spread out, hinting to the other men at the party of a rumored Warblers performance. The news spread like wildfire through the house, causing somewhat of an uproar as a hundred buzzed men tried to all gather around the stairwell. They waited, and waited, and … nothing. And just when several of the men turned to leave, deciding that body paint and black light markers were more fun that waiting around for a stupid a capella group, they heard voices.
In typical Warbler's fashion, the group provided an amazing, upbeat background arrangement for the vocals, and Kurt came bopping down the stairs.
Don't go breaking my heart
Blaine's head popped out from behind a wall upstairs. He was grinning at Kurt.
I couldn't if I tried
Kurt looked back at him coyly.
Oh honey if I get restless
Blaine shook his head, answering him.
Baby, you're not that kind.
And Blaine danced down the stairs, the other Warblers behind him, to join Kurt. They continued alternating lines in the song, moving to the music.
So don't go breaking my heart
You take the weight off of me
Oh honey when you knock on my door
I gave you my key
By now, the Dalton graduates were grooving along with the Warblers. Blaine and Kurt were reveling in the spotlight - they'd forgotten how much they missed this.
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
When I was down
I was your clown
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
Right from the start
Gave you my heart
Gave you my heart
They couldn't help but join hands as they danced, singing the next lines.
So don't go breaking my heart
I won't go breaking your heart
Oh yeah
Don't go breaking my heart
They paused as the Warblers continued the background accompaniment, and Kurt started the second verse.
And nobody told us
'Cause nobody showed us
And now it's up to us baby
I think we can make it
They were grinning stupidly at each other, and all the Warblers were grinning stupidly at them, so happy that the couple that had been hurt so badly could find it in their hearts to be happy again.
So don't misunderstand me
You put the light in my life
Oh you put the sparks to the flame
I've got your heart in my sights
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
When I was down
I was your clown
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
Right from the start
I gave you my heart
Gave you my heart
Don't go breaking my heart
I won't go breaking your heart
Don't go breaking my heart
They repeated the chorus over again a few more times, continuing to dance, their faces shining. At the end of the song, Kurt couldn't help himself, and leaned in to kiss Blaine. Catcalls and cheers rose from the crowd, and Blaine's cheeks flushed.
The voices in the background changed keys, increasing tempo, and Blaine gathered himself, taking the lead. It was an old Katy Perry favorite, chosen especially for him to sing by Wes, for old times' sake.
You gotta help me out
It's all a blur last night
We need a taxi 'cause
You're hungover and I'm broke
I lost my fake ID but you lost the motel key
Spare me your freakin' dirty looks
Now don't blame me
You want to cash out
And get the hell out of town
Don't be a baby
Remember what you told me
The Warblers joined in with their gorgeous 6-part harmony for the chorus of the song, Blaine rocking out in the spotlight. It was good to feel this alive again after so long.
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Blaine was really into it now, doing his typical crazy improvised choreography, his face expressive and animated.
Why are these lights so bright?
Oh, did we get hitched last night
Dressed up like Elvis?
Why am I wearing your class ring?
Don't call your mother
'cause now we're partners in crime
Don't be a baby,
Remember what you told me
The Dalton grads were jumping and dancing around, drinks in hand, and someone had broken out glow sticks, and the crowd of men were waving them around.
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
You got me into this
Information overload, situation lost control
Send out an S.O.S.
The Warblers broke from the group, dancing into the glow-stick brightened crowd. By now, the Dalton grads, Warblers or not, were all singing along.
And get some cash out
We're gonna tear up the town
Don't be a baby
Remember what you told me
Remember what you told me
Remember what you told me
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes, now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
The Warblers danced themselves back into position for the final stanza of the song, glow stick rings now resting around some of their necks.
That's what you get, baby
Shake the glitter, shake, shake, shake the glitter,
Give me some cash out, baby
Give me some cash out, baby
The background vocals finished, and they did their standard ending, hands clasped, feet wide, and heads down. The room filled with clapping and whistles, and the Warblers ran forward to join the crowd.
* * * * * * * *
Several hours and a lot of drinks later, Blaine and Kurt were in the media room playing Call of Duty 4 with Jeff and Nick. They'd made the rounds to the different parts of the party, and were trying to wind down. It had been a crazy night - they'd gone to the basement, where Kurt tried his hand at pole dancing along with the exotic dancers. Things had gone well at first and he had quite the audience, which inspired him (along with the copious amounts of liquid courage he'd consumed) to try one of the inverted moves he'd seen the dancer next to him do. He managed to flip himself upside down, but being rather inebriated, he missed catching the pole with his foot and basically did a backflip off the pole right into one of the dancers. Bruised, drunk, and mortified, he and Blaine exited the basement shortly after that, and went upstairs to a hopefully less-embarrassing scene. They danced a while in the room with the black lights, and at some point Blaine lost his shirt and became Kurt's canvas. Under the black lights, he looked like a neon tribal chief, though once they stepped out of the room the paint didn't show up at all, which slightly disappointed Kurt. They played beer pong with Wes, David, Luke, Thad, Ethan, and Trent in the kitchen, laughing at their stories of wives and kids and work. They'd gotten jello shots from the mermaid in the bathroom, who'd tried to proposition Blaine to join her in her “lagoon,” much to Kurt's dismay. Blaine had laughed, drunkenly patting her hair, and told her that the only lagoon he wanted to be floating in was Kurt's, and that that cute little crab would need to be singing songs about kissing the boy and not the girl. She looked confused, and Kurt apologized, telling her that Blaine had a tendency to revisit his childhood and reference Disney movies when drunk. And then he told her in no certain terms to keep her fins off of his very taken partner, and marched Blaine right out the door.
And now they were chugging water, trying to ward of the impending hangovers they knew they'd both have the next morning, shooting enemy troops on the tv screen.
“I think I'm going to move to New York,” Nick said out of nowhere. Kurt nearly dropped his controller.
“What?”
“There's nothing left for me in Chicago.” He was slurring his words, very drunk, and the other men wondered if he knew what he was saying.
“What do you mean, Nick?” Blaine asked him.
He sighed. “I wasn't going to say anything - I didn't want to ruin a perfectly fun night - but Angela left me. Last month.”
“What??” Blaine and Kurt spoke at the same time. Jeff looked down, having already known about it. He and Nick were still very close friends.
“She said I was working too much. I wasn't emotionally available or some shit. And that she didn't love me anymore. And she just walked out.”
He fired off several rounds on his machine gun on the game, and sighed.
“It was probably for the better. At least we don't have kids together.” He paused, and then looked at Blaine and Kurt. “So, I was just wondering if you could maybe hook me up with some good apartments to look at?”
“Of course we can, man. We'd be happy to.” Blaine put a hand on his shoulder. “If there's anything you need, anything at all, just let us know.”
“How do you two do it? You've been together forever,” he moaned into his controller. “How did you get the perfect life?”
“Ha!” Kurt snorted at this. “Perfect, huh? Not quite, buddy.”
“Listen, let's not talk about all this while we're this drunk,” Jeff said. “It's a touchy subject. Apparently for everybody. He can tell you after he moves, okay? And then you can all be buddy-buddy, and I'll just go back to my apartment in Chicago and do my stupid fucking job...” he trailed off when he realized what he was saying.
Nick stared at him.
“Dude … do we need to talk about this?”
“No. No, let's just kill some fucking Russians, okay? Just … drop it. No big deal. It's fine.”
* * * * * * * *
In the wee hours of the morning, Kurt and Blaine had finally decided to call it a night. They'd wandered around until they found a quiet room with a big couch and a blanket, and they curled up together in a sleepy haze and almost immediately fell asleep. Kurt stirred, hearing someone at the door. It was Jeff.
“Oh, sorry, I don't want to interrupt...”
Kurt shook his head. “No, it's fine. Come in.”
“Look, I'm really sorry about earlier. I wanted to apologize for my little outburst in there …”
“It's fine, really,” Kurt assured him. Blaine shifted a bit beside him, and Kurt moved so he'd be more comfortable. He pushed a few stray curls out of his eyes, gazing lovingly at his sleeping partner.
“I came out two years ago, you know,” Jeff said softly, watching him.
Kurt looked up. “No. I didn't know that, actually. Are you with anybody right now?”
He sighed and sat down, putting his face in his hands. “No,” came his muffled response. “But I want to be.”
Kurt waited silently.
“I've had a thing for Nick for as long as I can remember,” he whispered. He'd never admitted it out loud to anyone before. “After I came out … I half expected him to leave, or hate me, or be disgusted or something. Dalton no-bullying policy aside, I just … wasn't comfortable with it yet, letting people know. I didn't expect for them to be comfortable either. But Nick, he just smiled at me, gave me a hug, and told me it was about time that I came crawling out of the closet, and that he would support me no matter what.” He took a deep breath and Kurt put his hand on the man's shoulder.
“It's okay.” Blaine stirred again, but didn't wake.
“So, we were friends, good friends, 'bros,' Nick called us, and he was always so great, trying to set me up with people. He didn't know that the only person I wanted to be set up with was him. And then … Angela came into the picture. I tried to be happy for him, but I was so bitter about it, and then they got married and I was his fucking best man, and I don't know....”
“It's okay, Jeff,” Kurt said again.
“We managed to stay friends. I don't know how - I must be the best damn actor on the face of the planet - but then, last month, Angela just walked out on him. I couldn't believe she would do something like that. She always was kind of a bitch to me, but she seemed to love Nick, and then I started thinking that maybe ...” his voice dropped again to a whisper. “Maybe, now that he's not married anymore … maybe he could learn to love me.” His voice got louder again. “And now he's moving off to fucking New York City and I'm by myself. Again. As always.”
“Jeff...” Kurt began. “Listen, I'm going to be frank with you, because at one time, I was like madly in love with a straight guy just because he was nice to me. That guy is now my step-brother. Talk about confusing...”
Jeff looked up. “Really? You were in love with Finn?” Kurt laughed.
“Yeah. It's crazy to think about, now. But anyway - it's probably a good thing that Nick is coming to New York. You need to have some space away from him, Jeff. You need to figure things out for yourself - and if he happens to fall in love with you, that's great. But you can't expect him to do that.”
Jeff groaned. “I know.”
Kurt sat with his hand on Jeff's shoulder in silence.
“Listen, it's late, and you need sleep. I'll be fine - I'll figure this whole mess out. But thanks … for everything. You're the only person I've ever told about this. Can you … do you mind … please don't tell anybody...”
Kurt nodded. “I might tell Blaine, you know, spousal-partner-code or whatever, but I swear his ears will be the only ears to hear of this conversation, ever.”
“Thanks, Kurt. I feel so dumb about this. I knew you'd understand.” He gave Kurt a quick hug, and left the room. Kurt snuggled deeper into the couch next to Blaine.
“Have I ever told you how glad I am that you're gay?” he whispered, stroking his cheek.
“Mmmph,” he grunted, and pulled the blanket closer to him.
“I love you, Blaine Anderson.” And Kurt let the haze take him over once more, and fell into a dead sleep.
[Chapter 12a]
Title: Lights Will Guide You Home
Rating: R
Spoilers (if any): nada
Warnings (if any): alcohol, fluff!!
Word Count: 5614
Summary: 13 years from now, Blaine and Kurt have made a fabulous life for themselves, but there's something missing...
A/N: So, you know how I said real life was going to get in my way? Well I was right in the WORST way. There have been so many interruptions while I've been writing this chapter it's kind of ridiculous. So if it feels disjointed, that's probably because it IS.
But. Enjoy - because in this one, I'm giving the people what they want :)
Lights Will Guide You Home
Chapter 11
Blaine did a lot of running over that Thanksgiving in Ohio. Sometimes he ran with Finn. Sometimes he jogged with Burt, who needed to be more active anyway. Sometimes Kurt wanted to run with him, but he refused, saying that his partner's physical state was still too fragile. Sometimes he ran by himself.
Running was surprisingly helpful.
He could think when he ran. It gave his body something to do so his head could clear and he could concentrate. He thought about a lot of things - Violet, Kurt, his parents (who he really couldn't even call parents anymore), Kurt's family. Amazingly enough, after that first terrible night where he'd run so hard he gave himself a migraine and sobbed into Kurt's chest for hours after that, he'd made peace with the fact that his father had disowned him. What he'd said at their house was true - Kurt was more family to him than they had ever been. And Kurt's family was too. He didn't need the negativity from his parents any more than he needed pocketknives or razor blades, and he was letting it go as best he could. His therapist would be proud.
And speaking of proud - he was so impressed with the way in which Kurt had handled Thanksgiving. Blaine had been a little concerned about him, what with the major emphasis on food there, but something about his family made him relax. His OCD was always better when he was with them and away from work. He'd eaten normal-sized portions that entire week, never commenting on how he felt frantic after a meal like he normally did.
Things were getting better.
Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, Blaine and Kurt went back home to New York. Blaine was finishing up a project which had a pre-Christmas deadline, and they had more therapy appointments to attend. He had been correct - his therapist was incredibly proud of him, commenting on the leaps and bounds in his progress over the last month. Even Blaine admitted that despite the outcome, talking to his parents (or yelling at them, if he was being honest) had been the right decision. He had closure for the first time in his life, not feeling like he had to pretend or skirt around a subject that was so central to who he was. Though the end result was not what he'd hoped for, it was still the end, and he was relieved to have finally escaped the limbo of the previous fifteen years.
He could feel a tangible difference in himself, and in Kurt too, and it was a good difference. Blaine felt like they'd been ripped apart through all this, leaving open wounds in both their sides, but they'd managed to reconnect themselves before the skin mended so that as they healed, they simply healed back together. They were communicating and functioning as a unit again, something they'd lost over the horrible three months that summer. And partly as therapy homework assignments, but mostly just because they enjoyed being together, they were scheduling weekly dates again. Sometimes they went to the park, sometimes they caught a musical, sometimes they stayed in and ordered take out and “watched a movie” but never really caught the plot for all the teenage-esque making out they were doing. Kurt had been spot on when he said that they fit together like nobody else fit together - they were like interlocking puzzle pieces, and as hard as it had been, the struggle to rediscover each other had been well worth their effort.
* * * * * * * *
Kurt darted happily into the condo after work one evening, waving something around in the air.
“You'll never guess what we just got in the mail!” he exclaimed.
Blaine looked up from his computer. “What?”
Kurt handed it to him. It was a rectangle of dark blue cardstock with a red border, and a red calligraphic “D” in the middle. He flipped it over, and read:
You are cordially invited to attend
the Fifteen-Year Reunion
of the Dalton Academy Class of 2011
on December 10th
at 7 o'clock in the evening
at the home of
Dr. and Mrs. David Roberts
956 Royal Ridge Rd.
Wellesley, Massachusetts 02481
Attached to that was a square of red cardstock that included a few more details regarding the reunion:
The theme of the night is
“I Wish I Could Go Back to College”
Attire is casual.
We request that only Dalton graduates attend,
(meaning no spouses, significant others, or children)
and apologize for any inconvenience this might cause.
Please plan to stay overnight at the Roberts' house.
Blaine was confused. “Kurt … neither one of us were in that class. We both graduated in 2012 - from McKinley - so why did we get invited?”
“Because of this,” he answered, whipping out a large manila envelope from behind his back. “Read it.”
Enclosed in the envelope was a letter, and a stack of sheet music.
Blaine and Kurt,
The 2010-2011 Warbler members have been invited to perform at our class reunion. I know you guys are busy, but we were really hoping that Blaine would agree to be lead again, and that maybe you could work on the duet we've got enclosed in this package. Also enclosed is an itinerary for travel plans for everyone - we were hoping that all the Warblers could come earlier in the afternoon to rehearse and catch up before the party actually starts, because it might get a bit crazy. Call me and let me know if you can perform with us. Hope you're doing well. Lisa sends her love.
-Wes
“Kurt, we have to go,” Blaine said, his eyes twinkling. “It's been so long since we've seen them...”
“Of course we're going,” Kurt replied. “I know how much you miss them. And how much you miss performing with them.”
Having attended Dalton for not even a full year, Kurt didn't have the bond with the Warbler boys that Blaine did. He loved them for what they did for him, providing a safe haven from the stormy trials of Karofsky's bullying, giving him space to breathe and relax and just be Kurt Hummel. And Dalton held only the fondest of memories for him (obviously, since the second he'd set foot on those stairs a certain hazel-eyed boy had stolen his heart, through and through), but if he was being perfectly honest, they were Blaine's friends, who'd been kind and generous enough to take him under their wings for a time. When Blaine had first come to Dalton, he had done the same thing that Kurt had, run to the safest place he could find, but he found a niche at the school, thrived there like Kurt never could, and Wes and David were his very best friends. The Warblers, in essence, were Blaine's New Directions.
They still kept in close contact with Wes and David, seeing them and their wives and kids if they were ever in New York, or if Blaine and Kurt happened to be passing through Chicago (where Wes lived) or Boston (David's home). But they hadn't seen the other Warblers since college, when life got too busy and people moved too far away to try to remain close to everyone. They still exchanged Christmas cards and were all Facebook friends, but that didn't make up for the fact that they hadn't seen each others' faces in far too long.
For the following two weeks, Blaine was lit up like a Christmas tree, bursting with excitement and anticipation. Kurt hadn't seen him that hyper in over 6 months. He was thrilled to be performing again - he tackled their practice sessions with a new intensity, and Kurt was thankful for the timing. The old Blaine was back, confident, sometimes silly, and he was loving every minute of it.
* * * * * * * *
The day of the tenth, the couple took the early train to Boston and headed to the Faneuil Hall Marketplace. David, and Thad, also from the city, were meeting everyone who flew or took the train at the Marketplace in their SUVs in order to pile everyone in and drive back to David's to practice. Kurt and Blaine had arrived a bit early, wanting to window-shop and stretch their legs after the 5-hour train ride. Hand-in-hand, they walked around the snow-covered marketplace, decorated impeccably and looking like a winter wonderland, until their fingers froze in their gloves and their faces were getting frostbitten in spite of their scarves.
“I think now is a good time for a coffee date,” Kurt said, his teeth chattering.
They ducked into the closest Starbucks, which was warm and inviting, and shed their outermost winter clothes. Blaine's hair was going wild after being encased in a beanie for several hours, and Kurt reached out to try and fix it.
“No use, babe, I'm just going to have to wet it down when we get to David's,” he said, stepping up to the counter to place their coffee order. Once it was ready, they sat down at a small table by the window, thawing their hands on their mugs and enjoying the wintry scenery.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Blaine asked after a long silence.
“I'm just thinking about how crazy life is,” Kurt said simply. “I never would have thought in a hundred million years that things would turn out the way they have.”
Blaine placed his hand over his partner's, drawing small circles on it with his thumb.
“Life is crazy. But it's good too. I'm glad I'm here with you.”
“I'm glad I'm here with you, too.” Kurt scooted his chair over closer to Blaine's, and the shorter man softly rested his head against Kurt's shoulder, now solid again. Blaine sent up silent prayers to the heavens, thanking whatever powers that be for Kurt's return to health. They sat like that, Kurt's arm around Blaine, until Blaine's cell phone buzzed. The text was from David.
Just got to the marketplace. Are
you and Kurt here?
He quickly shot a text back.
We're at Starbucks. Where are you?
And David answered him.
75 State Street Garage - it's close to
you. Space #317 on 3rd floor.
“That was David - he's here,” Blaine said. “Are you ready to brave the cold again?”
“If we must.”
They bundled up in coats and scarves and hats again, walking the few blocks to the parking garage. After a ride up to the third floor in the elevator (and a few stolen kisses), they stepped out to see David standing outside of his large dark blue Navigator. His face lit up at the sight of the two men, and he ran forward to meet them.
“Blaine!” he exclaimed, nearly tackling the shorter man in his rush to hug him.
Blaine hugged him back. “David, it's been too long.”
Kurt stepped forward and gave him a hug as well.
David motioned for them to follow him. “Come on guys, it's warmer in the car, and everybody else will be here soon.”
They climbed into the Navigator, catching up with David for a bit. Following his father's footsteps, he was an up-and-coming neurosurgeon in the Boston area. He'd joined his father's practice, planning to take it over after he retired. He was married to a lovely woman named Rose and had a 2-year-old boy, and a girl on the way. Blaine and Kurt had kept him and Wes up to date on everything that had happened in the last year, and he was asking how they were doing when Thad pulled up in a Range Rover. He got out, moved to the car with the other men, and they talked until everyone arrived.
The group of 12 men milled about the cold parking garage, exchanging hugs and greetings, when Wes walked to a spot right in the middle of David's and Thad's car. He took a small box out of his jacket.
*Bang* *Bang* *Bang*
The former Warblers turned around to see Wes hitting a gavel against a little square of wood he'd brought along for the occasion, and they burst into laughter at the familiar sight.
“Order!” he said in a booming, authoritative voice. “The Warblers will come to order!” As always, they obeyed (after a few more seconds of talking, anyway), and the parking garage became quiet. (It had surprised no one when Wes went to law school after graduating from Yale in hopes of becoming a judge someday.)
“I welcome you to the Reunion of the Dalton Academy Class of 2012! It has been fifteen years since I, along with several more of you, graduated from Dalton Academy. We consider it an honor that all of you were willing to come so far to sing for the class. It is my distinct pleasure to be in the company of such esteemed men. Look around, Warblers - we have done our school proud.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows toward Blaine in amusement at the former council leader's formality. Some things never changed.
David took over from here.
“Wes and I, the co-planners of this event, have established several ground rules. First: this party is exclusive to the Class of 2012 and the 2010/2011 Warblers. No spouses or significant others may be in attendance-” And here, he broke from his ceremonious speech, “Except for you, Blaine and Kurt, you were always our exception.” He regathered his reserve and continued. “Second: once the party commences, you are in Vegas. What happens at the party, stays at the party. This means no facebook tags, no posting to social networking sites, no incriminating evidence. We don't want anyone being reprimanded at work for participating in our wild little reunion. Third: Wes and I have high expectations that this will be the party of the century. You as Warblers are a part of that expectation. Do not let us down. That will be all.”
Wes banged his gavel again. “Meeting adjourned.”
Laughter and chatter broke out among the men again as they piled in the vehicles which would take them to David's. In his car were Kurt, Blaine, Jeff, Trent, Richard and Nick. Wes, Luke, Flint and Ethan piled into Thad's Range Rover with him, and they were off.
They drove for half an hour, the houses becoming bigger and bigger as they drove further and further into the suburbs of Boston. Finally they arrived at a large, gated estate that never failed to take Kurt's breath away. Blaine's parents' house was intimidating, but it looked like a shack compared to David's sprawling mansion. He had acres on acres of property, and the house itself was a large Tudor-style that was incredibly formal on the outside, but managed to be warm and inviting and quite comfortable on the inside despite being nearly 10,000 square feet of luxury. They parked the cars (the driveway had actual parking spaces) and the now-rowdy men piled out of the cars.
“So what did you do with Rose and Connor this weekend?” Blaine asked David with a grin as they walked inside. “I'm assuming they won't be present for the shenanigans...”
David laughed. “No, most certainly not. They're visiting Rose's parents, actually - it worked out well, since she hasn't seen them since she's been pregnant this time.”
Kurt was looking around the mansion with an appraising eye. People were coming in and out, setting up rooms, decorating, and the kitchen smelled of something delicious.
“This is going to be quite the party,” Kurt said. Wes came up behind him, clapping his hands on Kurt's tall shoulders.
“You have no idea. We've been planning for months now.”
After a few more minutes of visiting, Wes got out his trusty gavel again.
“Order! The Warblers will come to order!” He really, really missed saying that.
They once again obediently got quiet and turned to face their ringleader.
“Let's all head up to the studio to practice. I assume you've all been going over your music at home?”
“Of course we have, Councilor Wes,” Jeff smirked from the back of the group. Wes shot him a Look, but he had a smile on his face.
They grabbed their music, and headed up the winding staircase to join their voices together once more.
* * * * * * * *
By 7:30 that evening, the party was in full-swing. David and Wes had really pulled out all the stops, appropriate for a reunion of men of that caliber. But instead of making it a formal event with a sit-down dinner and wives and awkward conversation, they'd decided late one night while out having drinks that it would be so much more fun to revisit the college experience, which they both missed enormously. With the jobs that most of the Dalton graduates had, a night of irresponsibility and play would be a welcome escape from the burden of the real world.
They'd turned David's enormous house into the ultimate college-esque playhouse. Each room held a different part of the experience - on the tamer side of things, they'd set up every video game known to man in the media room, cups for beer pong in the kitchen, and an enormous spread of simple but delicious food on the dining room table. That's where the tame ended, and the wild began. In the billiard room, they'd set up a smoke machine for ambience and a keg to take over where the smoke ended. There were poles draped with exotic dancers illuminated in blue lights in the large basement, music was blaring, and an open bar had liquor flowing freely. Upstairs in another room, more exotic dancers performed under black lights, and they had tubs of black light body paint all over the room with which they could decorate themselves (or their inebriated friends.) In the bathroom, there were “mermaids” serving jello shots from the bathtub.
Wes and David stood back for a while, watching the action unfold.
“This may have been the best idea we've ever had,” David said proudly.
“Do you want to put the Warbler bug in their ears soon?” Wes asked.
David agreed, and they called Thad over and told him it was go time. The three men spread out, hinting to the other men at the party of a rumored Warblers performance. The news spread like wildfire through the house, causing somewhat of an uproar as a hundred buzzed men tried to all gather around the stairwell. They waited, and waited, and … nothing. And just when several of the men turned to leave, deciding that body paint and black light markers were more fun that waiting around for a stupid a capella group, they heard voices.
In typical Warbler's fashion, the group provided an amazing, upbeat background arrangement for the vocals, and Kurt came bopping down the stairs.
Don't go breaking my heart
Blaine's head popped out from behind a wall upstairs. He was grinning at Kurt.
I couldn't if I tried
Kurt looked back at him coyly.
Oh honey if I get restless
Blaine shook his head, answering him.
Baby, you're not that kind.
And Blaine danced down the stairs, the other Warblers behind him, to join Kurt. They continued alternating lines in the song, moving to the music.
So don't go breaking my heart
You take the weight off of me
Oh honey when you knock on my door
I gave you my key
By now, the Dalton graduates were grooving along with the Warblers. Blaine and Kurt were reveling in the spotlight - they'd forgotten how much they missed this.
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
When I was down
I was your clown
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
Right from the start
Gave you my heart
Gave you my heart
They couldn't help but join hands as they danced, singing the next lines.
So don't go breaking my heart
I won't go breaking your heart
Oh yeah
Don't go breaking my heart
They paused as the Warblers continued the background accompaniment, and Kurt started the second verse.
And nobody told us
'Cause nobody showed us
And now it's up to us baby
I think we can make it
They were grinning stupidly at each other, and all the Warblers were grinning stupidly at them, so happy that the couple that had been hurt so badly could find it in their hearts to be happy again.
So don't misunderstand me
You put the light in my life
Oh you put the sparks to the flame
I've got your heart in my sights
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
When I was down
I was your clown
Ooh, ooh
Nobody knows it
Right from the start
I gave you my heart
Gave you my heart
Don't go breaking my heart
I won't go breaking your heart
Don't go breaking my heart
They repeated the chorus over again a few more times, continuing to dance, their faces shining. At the end of the song, Kurt couldn't help himself, and leaned in to kiss Blaine. Catcalls and cheers rose from the crowd, and Blaine's cheeks flushed.
The voices in the background changed keys, increasing tempo, and Blaine gathered himself, taking the lead. It was an old Katy Perry favorite, chosen especially for him to sing by Wes, for old times' sake.
You gotta help me out
It's all a blur last night
We need a taxi 'cause
You're hungover and I'm broke
I lost my fake ID but you lost the motel key
Spare me your freakin' dirty looks
Now don't blame me
You want to cash out
And get the hell out of town
Don't be a baby
Remember what you told me
The Warblers joined in with their gorgeous 6-part harmony for the chorus of the song, Blaine rocking out in the spotlight. It was good to feel this alive again after so long.
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Blaine was really into it now, doing his typical crazy improvised choreography, his face expressive and animated.
Why are these lights so bright?
Oh, did we get hitched last night
Dressed up like Elvis?
Why am I wearing your class ring?
Don't call your mother
'cause now we're partners in crime
Don't be a baby,
Remember what you told me
The Dalton grads were jumping and dancing around, drinks in hand, and someone had broken out glow sticks, and the crowd of men were waving them around.
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
You got me into this
Information overload, situation lost control
Send out an S.O.S.
The Warblers broke from the group, dancing into the glow-stick brightened crowd. By now, the Dalton grads, Warblers or not, were all singing along.
And get some cash out
We're gonna tear up the town
Don't be a baby
Remember what you told me
Remember what you told me
Remember what you told me
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes, now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
The Warblers danced themselves back into position for the final stanza of the song, glow stick rings now resting around some of their necks.
That's what you get, baby
Shake the glitter, shake, shake, shake the glitter,
Give me some cash out, baby
Give me some cash out, baby
The background vocals finished, and they did their standard ending, hands clasped, feet wide, and heads down. The room filled with clapping and whistles, and the Warblers ran forward to join the crowd.
* * * * * * * *
Several hours and a lot of drinks later, Blaine and Kurt were in the media room playing Call of Duty 4 with Jeff and Nick. They'd made the rounds to the different parts of the party, and were trying to wind down. It had been a crazy night - they'd gone to the basement, where Kurt tried his hand at pole dancing along with the exotic dancers. Things had gone well at first and he had quite the audience, which inspired him (along with the copious amounts of liquid courage he'd consumed) to try one of the inverted moves he'd seen the dancer next to him do. He managed to flip himself upside down, but being rather inebriated, he missed catching the pole with his foot and basically did a backflip off the pole right into one of the dancers. Bruised, drunk, and mortified, he and Blaine exited the basement shortly after that, and went upstairs to a hopefully less-embarrassing scene. They danced a while in the room with the black lights, and at some point Blaine lost his shirt and became Kurt's canvas. Under the black lights, he looked like a neon tribal chief, though once they stepped out of the room the paint didn't show up at all, which slightly disappointed Kurt. They played beer pong with Wes, David, Luke, Thad, Ethan, and Trent in the kitchen, laughing at their stories of wives and kids and work. They'd gotten jello shots from the mermaid in the bathroom, who'd tried to proposition Blaine to join her in her “lagoon,” much to Kurt's dismay. Blaine had laughed, drunkenly patting her hair, and told her that the only lagoon he wanted to be floating in was Kurt's, and that that cute little crab would need to be singing songs about kissing the boy and not the girl. She looked confused, and Kurt apologized, telling her that Blaine had a tendency to revisit his childhood and reference Disney movies when drunk. And then he told her in no certain terms to keep her fins off of his very taken partner, and marched Blaine right out the door.
And now they were chugging water, trying to ward of the impending hangovers they knew they'd both have the next morning, shooting enemy troops on the tv screen.
“I think I'm going to move to New York,” Nick said out of nowhere. Kurt nearly dropped his controller.
“What?”
“There's nothing left for me in Chicago.” He was slurring his words, very drunk, and the other men wondered if he knew what he was saying.
“What do you mean, Nick?” Blaine asked him.
He sighed. “I wasn't going to say anything - I didn't want to ruin a perfectly fun night - but Angela left me. Last month.”
“What??” Blaine and Kurt spoke at the same time. Jeff looked down, having already known about it. He and Nick were still very close friends.
“She said I was working too much. I wasn't emotionally available or some shit. And that she didn't love me anymore. And she just walked out.”
He fired off several rounds on his machine gun on the game, and sighed.
“It was probably for the better. At least we don't have kids together.” He paused, and then looked at Blaine and Kurt. “So, I was just wondering if you could maybe hook me up with some good apartments to look at?”
“Of course we can, man. We'd be happy to.” Blaine put a hand on his shoulder. “If there's anything you need, anything at all, just let us know.”
“How do you two do it? You've been together forever,” he moaned into his controller. “How did you get the perfect life?”
“Ha!” Kurt snorted at this. “Perfect, huh? Not quite, buddy.”
“Listen, let's not talk about all this while we're this drunk,” Jeff said. “It's a touchy subject. Apparently for everybody. He can tell you after he moves, okay? And then you can all be buddy-buddy, and I'll just go back to my apartment in Chicago and do my stupid fucking job...” he trailed off when he realized what he was saying.
Nick stared at him.
“Dude … do we need to talk about this?”
“No. No, let's just kill some fucking Russians, okay? Just … drop it. No big deal. It's fine.”
* * * * * * * *
In the wee hours of the morning, Kurt and Blaine had finally decided to call it a night. They'd wandered around until they found a quiet room with a big couch and a blanket, and they curled up together in a sleepy haze and almost immediately fell asleep. Kurt stirred, hearing someone at the door. It was Jeff.
“Oh, sorry, I don't want to interrupt...”
Kurt shook his head. “No, it's fine. Come in.”
“Look, I'm really sorry about earlier. I wanted to apologize for my little outburst in there …”
“It's fine, really,” Kurt assured him. Blaine shifted a bit beside him, and Kurt moved so he'd be more comfortable. He pushed a few stray curls out of his eyes, gazing lovingly at his sleeping partner.
“I came out two years ago, you know,” Jeff said softly, watching him.
Kurt looked up. “No. I didn't know that, actually. Are you with anybody right now?”
He sighed and sat down, putting his face in his hands. “No,” came his muffled response. “But I want to be.”
Kurt waited silently.
“I've had a thing for Nick for as long as I can remember,” he whispered. He'd never admitted it out loud to anyone before. “After I came out … I half expected him to leave, or hate me, or be disgusted or something. Dalton no-bullying policy aside, I just … wasn't comfortable with it yet, letting people know. I didn't expect for them to be comfortable either. But Nick, he just smiled at me, gave me a hug, and told me it was about time that I came crawling out of the closet, and that he would support me no matter what.” He took a deep breath and Kurt put his hand on the man's shoulder.
“It's okay.” Blaine stirred again, but didn't wake.
“So, we were friends, good friends, 'bros,' Nick called us, and he was always so great, trying to set me up with people. He didn't know that the only person I wanted to be set up with was him. And then … Angela came into the picture. I tried to be happy for him, but I was so bitter about it, and then they got married and I was his fucking best man, and I don't know....”
“It's okay, Jeff,” Kurt said again.
“We managed to stay friends. I don't know how - I must be the best damn actor on the face of the planet - but then, last month, Angela just walked out on him. I couldn't believe she would do something like that. She always was kind of a bitch to me, but she seemed to love Nick, and then I started thinking that maybe ...” his voice dropped again to a whisper. “Maybe, now that he's not married anymore … maybe he could learn to love me.” His voice got louder again. “And now he's moving off to fucking New York City and I'm by myself. Again. As always.”
“Jeff...” Kurt began. “Listen, I'm going to be frank with you, because at one time, I was like madly in love with a straight guy just because he was nice to me. That guy is now my step-brother. Talk about confusing...”
Jeff looked up. “Really? You were in love with Finn?” Kurt laughed.
“Yeah. It's crazy to think about, now. But anyway - it's probably a good thing that Nick is coming to New York. You need to have some space away from him, Jeff. You need to figure things out for yourself - and if he happens to fall in love with you, that's great. But you can't expect him to do that.”
Jeff groaned. “I know.”
Kurt sat with his hand on Jeff's shoulder in silence.
“Listen, it's late, and you need sleep. I'll be fine - I'll figure this whole mess out. But thanks … for everything. You're the only person I've ever told about this. Can you … do you mind … please don't tell anybody...”
Kurt nodded. “I might tell Blaine, you know, spousal-partner-code or whatever, but I swear his ears will be the only ears to hear of this conversation, ever.”
“Thanks, Kurt. I feel so dumb about this. I knew you'd understand.” He gave Kurt a quick hug, and left the room. Kurt snuggled deeper into the couch next to Blaine.
“Have I ever told you how glad I am that you're gay?” he whispered, stroking his cheek.
“Mmmph,” he grunted, and pulled the blanket closer to him.
“I love you, Blaine Anderson.” And Kurt let the haze take him over once more, and fell into a dead sleep.
[Chapter 12a]