Glee Fic: Knowing and Being Known
Title: Knowing and Being Known
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fluff.
Word Count: 3507
Spoilers: FIC USES SPOILERS FROM 2.12. IF YOU HAVE NOT BEEN READING SPOILERS, YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T READ THIS.
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this. I would never, ever try to ban Chaucer from public schools, and I am not at all ashamed of my crush on Mercutio.
Summary: Kurt has a soft spot for lost causes. Blaine may be slightly more lost than previously anticipated.
Author's Notes: This fic was written with spoilers in mind, but it's still going to be jossed in nine hours anyway. I figured I'd post while it's still at least plausible.
It's terrible of Kurt to even think it, but crushed is kind of a good look for Blaine. Without the cocky strut, the over-wide grin, the odd habit of climbing on furniture, he's just another boy with a broken heart, sitting on the curb outside the GAP with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. He looks pathetic. And while Kurt is still kind of shocked and sad and angry and hurt (and suffering from a severe case of second-hand embarrassment because my God), it's all kind of overridden by this weird desire to wrap Blaine up in blankets and start feeding him soup.
He can't help it. He's got a soft spot for lost causes. And it's starting to look like Blaine is a lot more lost than Kurt previously thought.
"Cheer up," Kurt says. And although it goes against every fashion-focused instinct in his body, he actually sits down on the curb next to Blaine, telling himself the entire time that it's okay, it's just the Dalton uniform, they're just Dockers, stop worrying. Blaine doesn't look up, so Kurt knocks into him with his shoulder, smiling with all of his might until Blaine finally peeks at him from underneath his eyebrows, all sad puppy-eyes. "It's only the GAP, Blaine. There are other places to shop."
The corner of Blaine's mouth turns up just a little bit, halfhearted Then it droops again. He really does heartbreak well. Kurt feels like he ought to be taking notes. "I am such an idiot," Blaine says.
It's out before Kurt can even stop himself. "Yep," he says, then claps both hands over his mouth as Blaine turns to stare at him, honestly shocked. "Oh my God, Blaine, I am so sorry -- I didn't mean -- I wasn't --"
Blaine's eyes are comically wide, jaw hanging open. Then he starts laughing, so hard he folds forward into Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt has to wrap both arms around him to hold him up. And oh God, he shouldn't be doing this with Blaine, especially not right now, and oh God, this is a bad idea, but Blaine's laughter, slightly hysterical though it is, is infectious, and Kurt can't do anything but rest his cheek against Blaine's hair and start to giggle.
They're both idiots, is the thing. And it sucks and it's painful and there is nothing that Kurt likes about it.
But that doesn't mean he can't still cherish the memory of that poor GAP boy frantically paging for security while Blaine went all creeper on him. Seriously, it was better than the grape-stomping video. He wishes he'd had the presence of mind to record it on his phone.
"Oh God, you don't think they have security cameras, do you?" he asks, and Blaine lets out a groan, face still buried in Kurt's shoulder. "Because there's no way this isn't going viral. Seriously, you're going to be on Ellen by next week at the latest."
"I'm going to die," Blaine says, voice muffled. "I will never live this down. Oh my God, what was I thinking? Why did I -- Seriously, what was I thinking?"
Kurt shakes his head and rubs Blaine's back. "I honestly have no idea," he says. "It's entirely possible that you weren't thinking at all."
Blaine groans again. "I'm going to die."
"No, you're not," Kurt says, and takes him by the shoulders and pushes him until he's sitting up straight. Blaine looks about as miserable as Kurt feels, and it's all really stupid and there's no way this will end well, but. Misery does love company. "Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."
"I can't go back in there, Kurt," Blaine says. "I can't. I can't. I --"
"Yes, you can," Kurt insists, and drags Blaine up to his feet. If there's one thing Kurt's learned to deal with in his life, it's how to deal with being humiliated. "Trust me. It's like ripping off a band-aid; you just do it fast and get it over with." Blaine gives him a dubious look. Kurt just holds his arm out. "Come on. I promise I won't make fun of you if you get extra whipped cream this time."
And although Blaine still looks like he's about to be shot, he slips his arm through Kurt's.
Kurt gives him a reassuring pat on the hand. "And don't forget to smile," he says, leading Blaine back towards the mall.
Blaine's face falls even further. "I really don't think I can," he whispers.
"Yes you can," Kurt says. "For me, you can."
The look Blaine gives him then is so pitiful that Kurt wants to bundle him into his car and drive away in a hurry. He wants to shake him and start screaming Damn it, Blaine, love me! Love me! But Kurt is stronger than that -- he keeps his chin up and he smiles, and after a second or two, Blaine manages to smile back.
"There you go," Kurt says, and keeps his voice encouraging. "Just remember -- you just have to make it to Starbucks. It's not far. Just to Starbucks."
Blaine nods, his grip on Kurt's arm tightening. "You're the best, Kurt," he says, quietly.
Then why weren't you chasing me around the GAP?
He will never, ever be able to ask that question.
"I know," he says instead, keeping his voice light, playful. He keeps his chin up. He smiles, and leads Blaine back into the mall. And although it doesn't mean what he wants it to mean, although it isn't what he wants it to be, he can't stop himself from smirking over at the GAP as they walk past, because that boy will never know what he's missing.
(Not that Kurt isn't missing it too, because he is. But still, at least he knows it.)
*
Kurt never really realized just how much time Blaine must have spent following random guys around the mall until he stopped doing it and started spending all of his time following Kurt around instead. Which is nice, kind of, and it's not like Kurt's going to kick him out or anything -- he figures that Mercedes has always been patient with him when he's been moping over some guy, and it's probably his turn to suffer in some weird, karmic retribution sort of way.
It's just. Kurt really needs a lot of study time, because he's still not caught up in all of his classes. And Blaine really needs... Well. Blaine really needs.
"I have the weirdest eyebrows," Blaine says sadly, staring at himself in the mirror. He's been examining his reflection for the last twenty minutes, which is pathetic, hilarious, and disturbing all at the same time. "Seriously. They're like... caterpillars."
"Also, your nail beds suck," Kurt says, still trying to figure out if And prively he caughte hire by the queynte, / And seyde, "Ywis, but if ich have my wille, / For deerne love of thee, lemman, I spille." is actually as dirty as he thinks it is. No wonder Coach Sylvester got Chaucer banned from McKinley's library, because seriously. Jesus. He glances up and sees Blaine studying his hands, looking faintly horrified. "Oh, God, Blaine," he sighs. "It was a joke. Your nail beds are fine. Seriously, you're like the only person I know who's never seen Mean Girls."
"David's got it memorized," Blaine says, turning back to his reflection. "I'm pretty sure that's close enough."
"I'm pretty sure your complete lack of culture is making me doubt this friendship," Kurt huffs, marking his place in the book before closing it. He leans over the back of his chair, watching Blaine scrutinize his reflection. "You don't seriously think that GAP boy rejected you because of your eyebrows, do you? Because even if they were awful, which they aren't, I'm pretty sure that GAP boy is in no position to judge. His hair wasn't even combed."
Blaine rolls his eyes, but given the choice between irritated Blaine and miserable Blaine, Kurt will opt for irritation any time. "GAP boy has a name, you know."
Kurt snorts. "And if you're not using it, then I don't see why I should bother. Besides, Jeremiah? Is a bullfrog. And he's not even a good friend of mine."
"And Blaine is a good name for a brand of major appliances, so I don't really see your point," Blaine says, but he's smiling just a little bit. The boy is a sucker for Three Dog Night references, and Kurt has no qualms about using that to his advantage when he needs to.
"My point is that I have a better name than both of you," Kurt says. "Also, that I have better taste than Jeremiah, and am a better judge of grooming. So if your eyebrows really are a deal-breaker for him... Well, then he's an idiot."
Blaine doesn't turn around, but Kurt can see him smiling in the mirror. "You really think so?"
Kurt sighs. "Blaine, whose judgement are we going to trust here? Mine, or the frog's?"
"Yours," Blaine says, without even hesitating, and Kurt feels a faint sense of pride at that. "Definitely yours."
"Well. There you go." Kurt should turn back to his book at that, but Blaine is still staring at the mirror, and it's entirely possible that he's about to find some other minor flaw to fixate on. "Blaine. You're gorgeous and Jeremiah is crazy. Stop obsessing."
Then he turns back to his book, because Blaine is giving him a funny look now, and oh God, he really, really, should not have just said that.
"You think I'm gorgeous?" Blaine asks, quietly.
Somehow, Kurt manages just the right tone of breezy disdain (it helps that he's staring at his book so hard that it actually looks less like English than it did before, which isn't easy). "Now you're just fishing for compliments."
Blaine's quiet for a little bit. Then he stands up. "Well," he says, and he sounds chipper and uninjured and completely and utterly fake. "I'll let you get back to your studying. I'm sure you've got to --"
"Stop reading this soon before I start thinking in Middle English?" Kurt suggests, tipping his head back to look up at Blaine. It could just be that he's upside-down, but he'd swear that Blaine's face has already brightened considerably. "Do me a favor, will you? Go borrow David's copy of Mean Girls and bring it back here. I'm tired of explaining my jokes to you."
"And if you're getting tired of me, then there's just no hope," Blaine says.
Kurt tries not to smile at him, but it's hard. Blaine just looks so hopeful sometimes. "I am known for my patience," he murmurs, returning his attention to Chaucer. "Or my complete lack of it, anyway. So you'd better go get that movie before I change my mind."
"Be right back," Blaine says, and he sounds like he's grinning, so Kurt decides to take that as a win. Well, as a win for his ability to console the broken-hearted, anyway. His English homework is, once again, a complete loss. He really should point out to Blaine that if he flunks all of his classes, he won't be able to stay at Dalton, and Blaine will have no one left to annoy. He really, really should.
He probably won't, though.
*
"Have you ever been in love?" Blaine asks, arms folded behind his head, staring up at Kurt's ceiling.
Two weeks ago, Kurt thought he was in love. With Blaine. So he would have gotten huffy and kicked Blaine out of the room on some pretext and then moped, because he worshipped the ground Blaine walked on and was therefore completely incapable of being honest with him. But that was two weeks ago, back before Blaine turned into Kurt's needy, horrifically co-dependent shadow, and Kurt's not sure of anything anymore.
He sighs, stands up from his desk, and sits down on the floor next to Blaine. "Okay, so this is really embarrassing," he says, leaning back on his hands.
Blaine gives him a look. "I chased someone I barely know around the GAP, Kurt," he says. It is the first hint of positive momentum, the first suggestion that yes, they really are going to laugh about this someday. And, okay, Kurt was already laughing about this (socks; Blaine tried to seduce a guy with socks), but still. "I can't judge you."
"But you will, though," Kurt warns. Still, he lies down on the floor next to Blaine, hands laced together across his stomach. "It was Finn. Finn Hudson. Before we were stepbrothers," he adds hastily. "Because seriously, ew. No. Creepy. But before that."
There is a long, long pause before Blaine finally lets out a nervous chuckle. "Okay, wow," he says. "I mean, not that I think... I mean, obviously, you couldn't have known that you would... I just... I mean, how do you deal with that? The guy breaks your heart, and now you're brothers? That's got to be so awkward."
Kurt shrugs. "For one thing, hearts are a lot harder to break than you'd think." For some reason, it makes him think of Brittany's report on heart attacks, still tucked in the bottom drawer of his desk; he smiles at that. "For another, I wasn't actually in love with Finn. I mean, I thought I was, but..." He sighs, turning his head to look at Blaine, whose wide eyes are fixed on him. "I didn't actually know him," he says, finally. "So I made up this... dream guy in my head, stuck Finn's face on him, and fell in love with that. And then I realized that guy had never existed. Which sucked, but... I guess my point is that my brother is totally not the guy who broke my heart. That guy never existed. And to answer your question, no. I haven't been in love. I thought I was at the time, but... You can't love someone if you don't actually know them, you know?"
"So, no love at first sight for you, then," Blaine sighs, but he's smiling.
"Attraction, yes. Connection, sure. Love..." He grins. "Love doesn't come in a minute, Blaine."
Blaine wrinkles his nose at that. "Ugh, that song," he says. "Paul's not terrible, but give me John any day."
Kurt hums quietly, turning back up to stare at the ceiling. "George was the hottest, though. And probably the most musically inventive."
"Very true," Blaine says. "You know who I've always really loved, though? Ringo. He's just... He's just Ringo."
For some reason, it makes Kurt laugh. "Do you get by with a little help from your friends?"
Blaine chuckles, tapping his foot against Kurt's. "Well, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends." He pauses. "Or maybe just friend. Anyway."
Kurt taps him back, pressing his shoe against Blaine's, and grins.
*
Somewhere along the way, when the sulking starts to taper off, when Blaine remembers that hanging out with Kurt can, in fact, involve more than just moping on his floor while Kurt tries desperately to stay academically afloat, Kurt realizes something crucial. Blaine is ahead of him in pretty much every subject but French, and if he's still bound and determined to spend every free minute in Kurt's dorm room, he might as well make himself useful.
Which is why they're both laying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip, poring over a battered paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet.
A month ago, this would have been deeply symbolic. Right now, though, Kurt can't stop thinking about how Romeo and Juliet are like the dumbest people ever. And granted, when he was their age (a whole two years ago now), he was pretty stupid too. Still, though. Morons.
"You know what's really stupid?" Blaine asks.
"That Romeo didn't just forget the whole thing and run off with Mercutio?" Kurt suggests.
Blaine laughs. "Not what I was thinking, but have you seen the Baz Luhrmann version?" he asks. "Because seriously. Oh my God."
Kurt arches an eyebrow. "Really?" he asks, mildly astonished. Blaine doesn't gush on and on about attractive celebrities the way that Mercedes and Tina (and, to be fair, Kurt himself) sometimes do. If it weren't for the Jeremiah debacle, Kurt might have started wondering if Blaine had some weird celibacy thing going on. Even with the Jeremiah debacle, Blaine is kind of worryingly repressed most of the time. The idea that someone, anyone, can reduce Blaine to this state of dreamy-eyed absence is reassuring.
Also, slightly intriguing.
"Oh my God," Blaine says again. "Seriously, Kurt, you have to see it. The Queen Mab scene is just..."
"Oh my God?" Kurt suggests.
Blaine laughs in a way that makes Kurt feel warm all over. He's missed Blaine laughing, he realizes. He's missed it more than he'd have ever thought possible. "Oh my God," he agrees. "As soon as we're done with this -- the movie skips over some scenes you're going to need to know about when you're doing your essay, but... Yeah. Movie night."
"Sounds like a plan," Kurt says. He nudges Blaine with his shoulder, and Blaine nudges back. "Anyway. So what's so stupid, apart from your massive crush on Mercutio?"
"My crush on Mercutio isn't stupid at all," Blaine protests, but he's turning a little bit pink. "It's just... The whole Jeremiah thing. Now that. That was stupid."
"Blaine," Kurt sighs, because really. "You don't have to --"
"No, no, I do," Blaine says, rolling onto his side and fixing Kurt with wide, earnest eyes. "You were right. What you said about... inventing someone to fall in love with and sticking someone's face on them. I mean, I barely knew Jeremiah. I think it was just... It was easier. Pretending. It felt... safe, I guess."
Kurt shouldn't raise his eyebrows at that, but he can't help it. "Blaine," he says again. "You sang to him about sex toys. In public. What part of that sounds safe to you?"
Blaine doesn't hide his face at that, only blushes a little bit. He reaches out with one hand and shoves at Kurt's shoulder, but it's gentle. "Shut up," he says. "That's not what... I guess I just kind of thought that, since I didn't really know him and I didn't really feel that much... if he did say no, then it wouldn't be a big deal. Whereas if it was someone that I really cared about, then..."
And it's not like Kurt doesn't know what Blaine's going on about, because he does. It's just that they're not quite there. Quite yet. He covers one of Blaine's hands with his own, promising without words. Soon. "So much for courage, huh?"
Blaine's hand rolls over underneath his, fingers interlacing with Kurt's. Message recieved. It's funny, thinking about it. They must really know each other if they're talking without even using words. "Yeah," Blaine huffs. "Well. I'm an idiot."
Kurt squeezes his hand. "I know." They grin at each other for a few seconds before Kurt turns back to his homework. "Come on, let's get this done," he says. "I want to see what's so hot that it makes even you say 'Oh my God.'"
Blaine laughs, a little lower than usual, and Kurt doesn't look at him but he can feel Blaine's eyes. It really had better be soon, or Kurt won't be held responsible for doing something stupid all of his own. "Trust me," Blaine says. "You will never watch Lost the same way again."
"I don't watch Lost now," he points out.
Blaine shifts closer to him, bends down over Kurt's copy of Romeo and Juliet. "You will," he says, turning the page.
When Kurt turns his head to stare, though, Blaine is resolutely poring over the text. "You sound pretty sure," Kurt says, but doesn't let go of Blaine's hand.
Blaine just smiles absently at the book. "Well," he says. "I know you."
*
Oh, and for the record?
OH MY GOD
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fluff.
Word Count: 3507
Spoilers: FIC USES SPOILERS FROM 2.12. IF YOU HAVE NOT BEEN READING SPOILERS, YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T READ THIS.
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this. I would never, ever try to ban Chaucer from public schools, and I am not at all ashamed of my crush on Mercutio.
Summary: Kurt has a soft spot for lost causes. Blaine may be slightly more lost than previously anticipated.
Author's Notes: This fic was written with spoilers in mind, but it's still going to be jossed in nine hours anyway. I figured I'd post while it's still at least plausible.
It's terrible of Kurt to even think it, but crushed is kind of a good look for Blaine. Without the cocky strut, the over-wide grin, the odd habit of climbing on furniture, he's just another boy with a broken heart, sitting on the curb outside the GAP with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. He looks pathetic. And while Kurt is still kind of shocked and sad and angry and hurt (and suffering from a severe case of second-hand embarrassment because my God), it's all kind of overridden by this weird desire to wrap Blaine up in blankets and start feeding him soup.
He can't help it. He's got a soft spot for lost causes. And it's starting to look like Blaine is a lot more lost than Kurt previously thought.
"Cheer up," Kurt says. And although it goes against every fashion-focused instinct in his body, he actually sits down on the curb next to Blaine, telling himself the entire time that it's okay, it's just the Dalton uniform, they're just Dockers, stop worrying. Blaine doesn't look up, so Kurt knocks into him with his shoulder, smiling with all of his might until Blaine finally peeks at him from underneath his eyebrows, all sad puppy-eyes. "It's only the GAP, Blaine. There are other places to shop."
The corner of Blaine's mouth turns up just a little bit, halfhearted Then it droops again. He really does heartbreak well. Kurt feels like he ought to be taking notes. "I am such an idiot," Blaine says.
It's out before Kurt can even stop himself. "Yep," he says, then claps both hands over his mouth as Blaine turns to stare at him, honestly shocked. "Oh my God, Blaine, I am so sorry -- I didn't mean -- I wasn't --"
Blaine's eyes are comically wide, jaw hanging open. Then he starts laughing, so hard he folds forward into Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt has to wrap both arms around him to hold him up. And oh God, he shouldn't be doing this with Blaine, especially not right now, and oh God, this is a bad idea, but Blaine's laughter, slightly hysterical though it is, is infectious, and Kurt can't do anything but rest his cheek against Blaine's hair and start to giggle.
They're both idiots, is the thing. And it sucks and it's painful and there is nothing that Kurt likes about it.
But that doesn't mean he can't still cherish the memory of that poor GAP boy frantically paging for security while Blaine went all creeper on him. Seriously, it was better than the grape-stomping video. He wishes he'd had the presence of mind to record it on his phone.
"Oh God, you don't think they have security cameras, do you?" he asks, and Blaine lets out a groan, face still buried in Kurt's shoulder. "Because there's no way this isn't going viral. Seriously, you're going to be on Ellen by next week at the latest."
"I'm going to die," Blaine says, voice muffled. "I will never live this down. Oh my God, what was I thinking? Why did I -- Seriously, what was I thinking?"
Kurt shakes his head and rubs Blaine's back. "I honestly have no idea," he says. "It's entirely possible that you weren't thinking at all."
Blaine groans again. "I'm going to die."
"No, you're not," Kurt says, and takes him by the shoulders and pushes him until he's sitting up straight. Blaine looks about as miserable as Kurt feels, and it's all really stupid and there's no way this will end well, but. Misery does love company. "Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."
"I can't go back in there, Kurt," Blaine says. "I can't. I can't. I --"
"Yes, you can," Kurt insists, and drags Blaine up to his feet. If there's one thing Kurt's learned to deal with in his life, it's how to deal with being humiliated. "Trust me. It's like ripping off a band-aid; you just do it fast and get it over with." Blaine gives him a dubious look. Kurt just holds his arm out. "Come on. I promise I won't make fun of you if you get extra whipped cream this time."
And although Blaine still looks like he's about to be shot, he slips his arm through Kurt's.
Kurt gives him a reassuring pat on the hand. "And don't forget to smile," he says, leading Blaine back towards the mall.
Blaine's face falls even further. "I really don't think I can," he whispers.
"Yes you can," Kurt says. "For me, you can."
The look Blaine gives him then is so pitiful that Kurt wants to bundle him into his car and drive away in a hurry. He wants to shake him and start screaming Damn it, Blaine, love me! Love me! But Kurt is stronger than that -- he keeps his chin up and he smiles, and after a second or two, Blaine manages to smile back.
"There you go," Kurt says, and keeps his voice encouraging. "Just remember -- you just have to make it to Starbucks. It's not far. Just to Starbucks."
Blaine nods, his grip on Kurt's arm tightening. "You're the best, Kurt," he says, quietly.
Then why weren't you chasing me around the GAP?
He will never, ever be able to ask that question.
"I know," he says instead, keeping his voice light, playful. He keeps his chin up. He smiles, and leads Blaine back into the mall. And although it doesn't mean what he wants it to mean, although it isn't what he wants it to be, he can't stop himself from smirking over at the GAP as they walk past, because that boy will never know what he's missing.
(Not that Kurt isn't missing it too, because he is. But still, at least he knows it.)
*
Kurt never really realized just how much time Blaine must have spent following random guys around the mall until he stopped doing it and started spending all of his time following Kurt around instead. Which is nice, kind of, and it's not like Kurt's going to kick him out or anything -- he figures that Mercedes has always been patient with him when he's been moping over some guy, and it's probably his turn to suffer in some weird, karmic retribution sort of way.
It's just. Kurt really needs a lot of study time, because he's still not caught up in all of his classes. And Blaine really needs... Well. Blaine really needs.
"I have the weirdest eyebrows," Blaine says sadly, staring at himself in the mirror. He's been examining his reflection for the last twenty minutes, which is pathetic, hilarious, and disturbing all at the same time. "Seriously. They're like... caterpillars."
"Also, your nail beds suck," Kurt says, still trying to figure out if And prively he caughte hire by the queynte, / And seyde, "Ywis, but if ich have my wille, / For deerne love of thee, lemman, I spille." is actually as dirty as he thinks it is. No wonder Coach Sylvester got Chaucer banned from McKinley's library, because seriously. Jesus. He glances up and sees Blaine studying his hands, looking faintly horrified. "Oh, God, Blaine," he sighs. "It was a joke. Your nail beds are fine. Seriously, you're like the only person I know who's never seen Mean Girls."
"David's got it memorized," Blaine says, turning back to his reflection. "I'm pretty sure that's close enough."
"I'm pretty sure your complete lack of culture is making me doubt this friendship," Kurt huffs, marking his place in the book before closing it. He leans over the back of his chair, watching Blaine scrutinize his reflection. "You don't seriously think that GAP boy rejected you because of your eyebrows, do you? Because even if they were awful, which they aren't, I'm pretty sure that GAP boy is in no position to judge. His hair wasn't even combed."
Blaine rolls his eyes, but given the choice between irritated Blaine and miserable Blaine, Kurt will opt for irritation any time. "GAP boy has a name, you know."
Kurt snorts. "And if you're not using it, then I don't see why I should bother. Besides, Jeremiah? Is a bullfrog. And he's not even a good friend of mine."
"And Blaine is a good name for a brand of major appliances, so I don't really see your point," Blaine says, but he's smiling just a little bit. The boy is a sucker for Three Dog Night references, and Kurt has no qualms about using that to his advantage when he needs to.
"My point is that I have a better name than both of you," Kurt says. "Also, that I have better taste than Jeremiah, and am a better judge of grooming. So if your eyebrows really are a deal-breaker for him... Well, then he's an idiot."
Blaine doesn't turn around, but Kurt can see him smiling in the mirror. "You really think so?"
Kurt sighs. "Blaine, whose judgement are we going to trust here? Mine, or the frog's?"
"Yours," Blaine says, without even hesitating, and Kurt feels a faint sense of pride at that. "Definitely yours."
"Well. There you go." Kurt should turn back to his book at that, but Blaine is still staring at the mirror, and it's entirely possible that he's about to find some other minor flaw to fixate on. "Blaine. You're gorgeous and Jeremiah is crazy. Stop obsessing."
Then he turns back to his book, because Blaine is giving him a funny look now, and oh God, he really, really, should not have just said that.
"You think I'm gorgeous?" Blaine asks, quietly.
Somehow, Kurt manages just the right tone of breezy disdain (it helps that he's staring at his book so hard that it actually looks less like English than it did before, which isn't easy). "Now you're just fishing for compliments."
Blaine's quiet for a little bit. Then he stands up. "Well," he says, and he sounds chipper and uninjured and completely and utterly fake. "I'll let you get back to your studying. I'm sure you've got to --"
"Stop reading this soon before I start thinking in Middle English?" Kurt suggests, tipping his head back to look up at Blaine. It could just be that he's upside-down, but he'd swear that Blaine's face has already brightened considerably. "Do me a favor, will you? Go borrow David's copy of Mean Girls and bring it back here. I'm tired of explaining my jokes to you."
"And if you're getting tired of me, then there's just no hope," Blaine says.
Kurt tries not to smile at him, but it's hard. Blaine just looks so hopeful sometimes. "I am known for my patience," he murmurs, returning his attention to Chaucer. "Or my complete lack of it, anyway. So you'd better go get that movie before I change my mind."
"Be right back," Blaine says, and he sounds like he's grinning, so Kurt decides to take that as a win. Well, as a win for his ability to console the broken-hearted, anyway. His English homework is, once again, a complete loss. He really should point out to Blaine that if he flunks all of his classes, he won't be able to stay at Dalton, and Blaine will have no one left to annoy. He really, really should.
He probably won't, though.
*
"Have you ever been in love?" Blaine asks, arms folded behind his head, staring up at Kurt's ceiling.
Two weeks ago, Kurt thought he was in love. With Blaine. So he would have gotten huffy and kicked Blaine out of the room on some pretext and then moped, because he worshipped the ground Blaine walked on and was therefore completely incapable of being honest with him. But that was two weeks ago, back before Blaine turned into Kurt's needy, horrifically co-dependent shadow, and Kurt's not sure of anything anymore.
He sighs, stands up from his desk, and sits down on the floor next to Blaine. "Okay, so this is really embarrassing," he says, leaning back on his hands.
Blaine gives him a look. "I chased someone I barely know around the GAP, Kurt," he says. It is the first hint of positive momentum, the first suggestion that yes, they really are going to laugh about this someday. And, okay, Kurt was already laughing about this (socks; Blaine tried to seduce a guy with socks), but still. "I can't judge you."
"But you will, though," Kurt warns. Still, he lies down on the floor next to Blaine, hands laced together across his stomach. "It was Finn. Finn Hudson. Before we were stepbrothers," he adds hastily. "Because seriously, ew. No. Creepy. But before that."
There is a long, long pause before Blaine finally lets out a nervous chuckle. "Okay, wow," he says. "I mean, not that I think... I mean, obviously, you couldn't have known that you would... I just... I mean, how do you deal with that? The guy breaks your heart, and now you're brothers? That's got to be so awkward."
Kurt shrugs. "For one thing, hearts are a lot harder to break than you'd think." For some reason, it makes him think of Brittany's report on heart attacks, still tucked in the bottom drawer of his desk; he smiles at that. "For another, I wasn't actually in love with Finn. I mean, I thought I was, but..." He sighs, turning his head to look at Blaine, whose wide eyes are fixed on him. "I didn't actually know him," he says, finally. "So I made up this... dream guy in my head, stuck Finn's face on him, and fell in love with that. And then I realized that guy had never existed. Which sucked, but... I guess my point is that my brother is totally not the guy who broke my heart. That guy never existed. And to answer your question, no. I haven't been in love. I thought I was at the time, but... You can't love someone if you don't actually know them, you know?"
"So, no love at first sight for you, then," Blaine sighs, but he's smiling.
"Attraction, yes. Connection, sure. Love..." He grins. "Love doesn't come in a minute, Blaine."
Blaine wrinkles his nose at that. "Ugh, that song," he says. "Paul's not terrible, but give me John any day."
Kurt hums quietly, turning back up to stare at the ceiling. "George was the hottest, though. And probably the most musically inventive."
"Very true," Blaine says. "You know who I've always really loved, though? Ringo. He's just... He's just Ringo."
For some reason, it makes Kurt laugh. "Do you get by with a little help from your friends?"
Blaine chuckles, tapping his foot against Kurt's. "Well, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends." He pauses. "Or maybe just friend. Anyway."
Kurt taps him back, pressing his shoe against Blaine's, and grins.
*
Somewhere along the way, when the sulking starts to taper off, when Blaine remembers that hanging out with Kurt can, in fact, involve more than just moping on his floor while Kurt tries desperately to stay academically afloat, Kurt realizes something crucial. Blaine is ahead of him in pretty much every subject but French, and if he's still bound and determined to spend every free minute in Kurt's dorm room, he might as well make himself useful.
Which is why they're both laying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip, poring over a battered paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet.
A month ago, this would have been deeply symbolic. Right now, though, Kurt can't stop thinking about how Romeo and Juliet are like the dumbest people ever. And granted, when he was their age (a whole two years ago now), he was pretty stupid too. Still, though. Morons.
"You know what's really stupid?" Blaine asks.
"That Romeo didn't just forget the whole thing and run off with Mercutio?" Kurt suggests.
Blaine laughs. "Not what I was thinking, but have you seen the Baz Luhrmann version?" he asks. "Because seriously. Oh my God."
Kurt arches an eyebrow. "Really?" he asks, mildly astonished. Blaine doesn't gush on and on about attractive celebrities the way that Mercedes and Tina (and, to be fair, Kurt himself) sometimes do. If it weren't for the Jeremiah debacle, Kurt might have started wondering if Blaine had some weird celibacy thing going on. Even with the Jeremiah debacle, Blaine is kind of worryingly repressed most of the time. The idea that someone, anyone, can reduce Blaine to this state of dreamy-eyed absence is reassuring.
Also, slightly intriguing.
"Oh my God," Blaine says again. "Seriously, Kurt, you have to see it. The Queen Mab scene is just..."
"Oh my God?" Kurt suggests.
Blaine laughs in a way that makes Kurt feel warm all over. He's missed Blaine laughing, he realizes. He's missed it more than he'd have ever thought possible. "Oh my God," he agrees. "As soon as we're done with this -- the movie skips over some scenes you're going to need to know about when you're doing your essay, but... Yeah. Movie night."
"Sounds like a plan," Kurt says. He nudges Blaine with his shoulder, and Blaine nudges back. "Anyway. So what's so stupid, apart from your massive crush on Mercutio?"
"My crush on Mercutio isn't stupid at all," Blaine protests, but he's turning a little bit pink. "It's just... The whole Jeremiah thing. Now that. That was stupid."
"Blaine," Kurt sighs, because really. "You don't have to --"
"No, no, I do," Blaine says, rolling onto his side and fixing Kurt with wide, earnest eyes. "You were right. What you said about... inventing someone to fall in love with and sticking someone's face on them. I mean, I barely knew Jeremiah. I think it was just... It was easier. Pretending. It felt... safe, I guess."
Kurt shouldn't raise his eyebrows at that, but he can't help it. "Blaine," he says again. "You sang to him about sex toys. In public. What part of that sounds safe to you?"
Blaine doesn't hide his face at that, only blushes a little bit. He reaches out with one hand and shoves at Kurt's shoulder, but it's gentle. "Shut up," he says. "That's not what... I guess I just kind of thought that, since I didn't really know him and I didn't really feel that much... if he did say no, then it wouldn't be a big deal. Whereas if it was someone that I really cared about, then..."
And it's not like Kurt doesn't know what Blaine's going on about, because he does. It's just that they're not quite there. Quite yet. He covers one of Blaine's hands with his own, promising without words. Soon. "So much for courage, huh?"
Blaine's hand rolls over underneath his, fingers interlacing with Kurt's. Message recieved. It's funny, thinking about it. They must really know each other if they're talking without even using words. "Yeah," Blaine huffs. "Well. I'm an idiot."
Kurt squeezes his hand. "I know." They grin at each other for a few seconds before Kurt turns back to his homework. "Come on, let's get this done," he says. "I want to see what's so hot that it makes even you say 'Oh my God.'"
Blaine laughs, a little lower than usual, and Kurt doesn't look at him but he can feel Blaine's eyes. It really had better be soon, or Kurt won't be held responsible for doing something stupid all of his own. "Trust me," Blaine says. "You will never watch Lost the same way again."
"I don't watch Lost now," he points out.
Blaine shifts closer to him, bends down over Kurt's copy of Romeo and Juliet. "You will," he says, turning the page.
When Kurt turns his head to stare, though, Blaine is resolutely poring over the text. "You sound pretty sure," Kurt says, but doesn't let go of Blaine's hand.
Blaine just smiles absently at the book. "Well," he says. "I know you."
*
Oh, and for the record?
OH MY GOD
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