But But I Will Only Love You More [Kurt/Blaine] - 2/?
Title: But I Will Only Love You More 2/?Author: Lily M Richards
Summary:Ten years ago, they made a promise. Ten years ago, they experienced heartbreak for a purpose they suddenly can't seem to remember when they meet again in the middle of a crowded coffee shop in New York. Kurt/Blaine futurefic
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Glee and its characters belong to Ryan Murphy and FOX
Warnings: Slight swearing
May 2011
Chapter 2
“Oh my god” Blaine almost walks into Kurt when the taller boy suddenly stops in the middle of the doorway. Before Blaine can recollect his thoughts to direct his attention to what might have caused the sudden halt, his boyfriend bolts into the room and throws himself at a girl who is laughing wildly when she catches sight of her best friend.
“Mercedes! I missed you so much!”
Their reunion is sweet, thousands of words and explanations given in a simple, tight hug and the sight of Blaine, winking at her, which tells her exactly what Kurt is doing here.
“You’ve really got a keeper there, Kurt.” Santana smirks, leaning against the doorway between this and another room, presumably dividing up the boys and girls.
“Oh I know, trust me.” And Blaine is caught suddenly off guard when the countertenor leaps back across the room and soft lips press against his insistently for far too short a second for his mind to catch up with his actions. “Definitely not letting this one go.”
“This one? I have someone to compete against?” Blaine raises one eyebrow delicately as he wraps his arm around Kurt’s slim waist, relishing in the ease of the motion, the lack of tension as they stand so close.
“If it means this pampering continues, then I might just consider getting an impromptu cru-“
Blaine just laughs and cuts him off with a kiss that’s far from the innocent peck on the cheek they restrict themselves to in company of others. They forget their surroundings for a moment and when they lean back away again, the catcalls suddenly register with their eardrums and neither is sure who blushed more out of the two of them and whose hair is more rumpled.
“Okay” Kurt says breathily “No competition for you. It’s not fair to submit someone to a pre-emptively won contest.”
“Glad we cleared that up!” And that grin appears on Kurt’s usually so reserved face again. The grin Blaine has spent countless hours mapping with his mind ever since Teenage Dream, and in his mind, he will never forget how insanely gorgeous Kurt was with that look on his face.
November 2018
“…Blaine!” When he realises Kate is shaking him somewhat vigorously, trying to pry his eyes away from the cool, marble surface of the desk before him, he jumps, losing his caution for a minute and looking around wildly before glancing back at the girl.
“Sorry” he murmurs “I… got reminded of something.”
She doesn’t pry, lets him have his moment of contemplation because she saw that look in his eyes. That intimacy he shared with the empty void before him as though he saw something- no someone through it, as though he was suddenly somewhere else, sharing a private moment.
It wasn’t her place to ask. It was his story to disclose at his own discretion.
“So they’re paying for your place?”
“Huh? Oh… her parents. God no. Rent only due next month, she paid this month’s. Hell of a goodbye present, isn’t it?” Kate rolls her eyes. “Either way, I’m staying here as long as I can. I mean come on, best make the most of it while I can stay in a place that has more than one room and a clean bathroom without the oppressing threat of cockroaches trespassing and deciding to begin a family underneath the bed.”
Blaine isn’t sure whether she expects him to laugh or not. So he just smiles, staring at the mahogany floor and then walking toward the elevator with her. She notices the guarded way he walks, the way he sets one foot before the other with the deliberate motion not to make an impression on her. But his attempts to hide it are awful, or she’s simply taking too much care to notice his movements.
A soft ‘ping’ emanating from a speaker in the elevator, announces that they have reached their destination. The hallway is eerily quiet. The kind of silence that suggests a high-class society, neighbours that will knock at your door with utter perseverance and politely invite you to turn down the volume of your stereo. And Blaine’s natural first thought is that Kate fits in so badly into that scenario, from what he knows of her so far, that it occurs to him that she may be leading him into trouble, but- no. He has to reprimand himself. Too many terrible scenarios work themselves through his mind and he knows, he knows that maybe it’s time to give up the Thrillers and Horror movies and to remember that this is not a bible-belt town or state. It’s not like Ohio.
June 2011
“Blaine? Blaine! Where are you going? Blaine!”
He doesn’t hear his mother’s cries as he tears out of the parking space in his Mercedes, phone clutched in his grip so tightly he thinks it might break in half, but all he needs is its closeness right now, the air of availability it gives him with the knowledge that if it rings, it’s right there for him to answer and hear the words of reassurance he needs.
In this condition, he should not be allowed to drive, but he has no intention of letting that caution him as he drives as fast as the car will allow him, speeding through the motorway that’s somewhat deserted thanks to the time, taking the shortcuts that have elongated the time he could spend with Kurt on weekend days considerably.
When he sees St Rita’s Medical Centre loom over him, he almost breaks down. There are hot, angry tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving dry, itching patches of skin in their wake and his hands shake convulsively on the steering wheel, but he has to keep it together. For now, he has to be strong. If not for Kurt, then for his father, for Finn and Carol, for the rest of the world and for himself.
November 2018
No. His mind screams at him. No memories. Not that one. The memories are too much, the pain threatening to reduce him to a crumpled heap on the floor. He’s gone through it before. Not again. Not now.
But like always, he can’t control the onslaught of memories. They come and go. And going to California saved him from them for a little while, but New York just brings them all back, crashing into him like a freight train and they knock the air out of his lungs with their sudden invasion.
“Okay, Blaine? Please stop spacing out on me, it’s… kinda freaking me out here. You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine, fine, sorry.” Blaine smiles at her half-heartedly in a way that should by now be in every what not to do book or article, the way that tells people to back off because it’s such a lie that trying to hide it would be fatal and so blatantly obvious even an attempt to is useless. So she shrugs, because it’s all she knows to do in this situation and unlocks her apartment door to let Blaine in.
If he expected the place to mirror the rest of the building, with its prim and proper polished surfaces and its carefully preserved, potted plants and chandeliers, he’s devastatingly disappointed. The interior is littered with what he makes out to be bits of newspapers and clothes that got lost on their way to the laundry basket. There’s cups and plates littering the floor and tables, stacked up in the kitchen sink and-
“Wow”
“Oh god, you’re not some neat freak right?” Kate rolls her eyes and laughs, seemingly used to the reaction to the place. “Not that I’d mind if you felt inclined to clean the place up, of course… Joanna always… took care of that, before.”
“No, no, I just - didn’t expect this. Reminds me of my old dorm room back at High School.” The slip is out before he can control it, and he bites his lip, scolding himself mentally.
“Prep school boy?”
“Dalton Academy for boys, back in Ohio.” Blaine says as blasé as he can muster his voice to be, wincing as she whistles.
“An all-boys school? Damn you must’ve loved that.” Her wink is unsettling. He wishes he could find the confidence to make a catty remark, to joke about it, say something along the lines of yeah, you’ve got to be lucky to have eye candy 24/7 and none of those interfering females around, but all it reminds him of, is that in all his time at Dalton, there was only one boy who caught his interest that much. There had been the occasional crush, the wow he looks hot that floated through his mind after soccer practice in the changing rooms, but he had never had anything on the level of what he had had with Kurt. The emotional connection, the feeling of being in love with his best friend, it’s worth every second of the occasional fight because there’s the preluding knowledge of a reconciliation at the end.
Instead, he looks to the ground, biting his lip nervously because right now, he really doesn’t want to talk about that.
“Can I get you something?” Kate pointedly ignores Blaine muttering “That is a good question” bemusedly and moves through the mess and to the kitchen expertly, with the co-ordination of someone who has spent countless hours deciding that cleaning was overrated and it would be much more effective to just learn how to navigate through this, opening cupboards and drawers with loud bangs and clanks.
“I have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, alcohol… more alcohol… and beer.”
“So more alcohol?”
“Well, I was really referring to vodka, liquor and schnapps there…”
“I’ll, uh, have some coffee. Walking through the streets drunk is probably not a good idea.”
“It’s about as bad an idea as walking through the streets after 3 am and unless you leave ten minutes ago, I can’t see that happening.” A flash goes off before Blaine’s eyes again at that statement.
June 2011
The cool exterior that already gives off an air of sterilisation and conjures up in Blaine’s mind a myriad of off-white hallways and sickeningly cheerful pictures hung up on walls to give the place a more cheerful disposition and succeeding only in constantly reminding the patients where they are.
Blaine looks up at it, eyes glassy and there are the tears again, streaming down his flushed cheeks as he tries time and again to collect himself, to calm down even if just for a moment, but neither peace nor calm come to him, the leave him hanging in oblivion, the utter and sheer blackness of a pool of dread and anger while the eight words fail to stop running through his mind, painting themselves in front of his vision grotesquely.
‘You need to come to St Rita’s hospital, now!’
And of course there’s this part of him that doesn’t want to know, because while he has spoken to Kurt’s father before, Burt has never actually called from Kurt’s phone and when he is the one to answer Blaine’s cheerful greeting after seeing his boyfriend’s name flash on the screen, ice cold shivers stab themselves through his clothes and over his back.
He breaks down, then. Outside, gusts of wind sweep over the car park, outside, people hurry through the area to visit their friends and family in similar situations, outside, he faces reality. And when he feels his fingers go numb with the strength with which they grip the steering wheel, when he sees water splash on the black leather in a syncopated rhythm, when he tastes the blood on his tongue and releases his lower lip from his teeth, only then does he manage to croak the one name that rolls off his tongue more easily than ‘hello’, weakly.
Still, his legs refuse to move; still his heart refuses to beat any slower than it has since the phone call.
‘Kurt needs you’
The simple repetition of those words is what lets him go on. When a sudden surge of strength and fierce protectiveness runs through his veins and leaves him standing outside, walking towards the entrance with even, premeditated steps.
“I’m- here to see Kurt Hummel.” he forces out and “One second.” The girl behind the counter says, smiling in that comforting way he has grown up to hate and loathes now even more so because he’s sure she could check much faster than she does.
TBC.