Fic: The Curve of You (is Curved on Me)
Title: The Curve of You (is Curved on Me)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Words: About 1600
Warnings/Spoilers: “Goodbye” (which is, really, both a spoiler and a warning). Also, there's some kissing and rolling around, so don't show this to the executives at FOX.
Summary: He hates how good this feels.
Author’s Note: Semi-obligatory Blaine-centric follow-up to Instead of in New York. Don't be too surprised if I've written the train's side of the story by this time tomorrow.
He hates that he feels so good about this.
It's not that he was happy when he heard that Kurt didn't get into NYADA; honestly, he's still not sure how he feels about that, too stunned and confused to be angry or upset. Kurt was so good up there, amazing, and Ms. Tibideau was so generous with her praise, and Kurt just deserves this so much, and that he didn't get it, in the end... It's just baffling to Blaine. He doesn't understand. How does something like this happen? How does Kurt, of all people, get left behind? So he's not happy, or angry, or anything, really. He's just... stunned. To the point where it's rendered him almost helpless, because if he could understand what went wrong, he could come up with something, some way of fixing this. But there's nothing to fix. Kurt was... perfect. He was absolutely perfect.
And so there's nothing Blaine can do but lay in Kurt's bed and let Kurt wrap him up, arms tight around him and one leg flung over his and one hand pressing Blaine's head down so that his face is tucked into that perfect spot where Kurt's neck meets his shoulder, that patch of skin that smells and feels and tastes more like home than anything that Blaine has ever known. And the problem is that this just feels so good, the two of them nestled up together, Blaine's hands clinging to Kurt's undershirt and Blaine's lips pressed to Kurt's collarbone. And it shouldn't. It shouldn't feel good at all.
He should hate that this is happening. But he can't, quite. And so he hates that, instead. He hates how good it is that Kurt is here, with him. He hates that this is so much better than being alone.
"Stop that," Kurt murmurs, the words vibrating from his chest into Blaine's heart, and Blaine clutches him a little bit tighter because he doesn't have to hear that voice through his computer speakers or his cell phone for the next year; he can just have it, there, whenever he wants, and it shouldn't be this much of a relief, but it is anyway.
"Stop... Stop what?" Blaine asks, even though he chokes over the very first word and sounds too timid, too hesitant when he finally gets the whole phrase out, and Kurt can't read his mind, not exactly, but he knows him better than that.
"I'm not happy about this either," Kurt says, his voice a little firmer, a little clearer, than it has been for days. "I wanted to go to New York. I still want to go to New York. But the thing is, Blaine," and he pushes back, a little bit, disentangling himself from Blaine, and Blaine reluctantly eases himself down into the pillows so he can look up at Kurt's bright, beautiful eyes. "The thing is that I still can. This is one rejection. It's not over for me. I'm gonna get there."
"You are," Blaine whispers, because he knows it's true. Kurt is astonishing; he's so smart, and talented, and brave, and... Kurt can do anything. "You are. Of course you are. Kurt --"
Kurt smiles down at him, cups Blaine's cheek in his hand, strokes gently with his thumb. "And you're coming with me," he says, so gently, and Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat. Kurt's eyes have so much love in them; sometimes he can't fathom how all of this could be his. "We're going to do this together, Blaine. You and me."
Blaine can't think of anything to say; he nods, though, and Kurt leans in until his smile is too close for Blaine to focus on it. He presses that smile to Blaine's lips, kissing him so slow and so sweet, and Blaine reaches up to cup Kurt's face in his hands, trying to put everything he feels into his lips and his hands -- I love you, you're amazing, I want you forever, I'll do anything --
And he thinks that maybe some of it gets through, because Kurt is breathless and rosy-cheeked when he pulls back.
"We'll do it right this time," he promises, settling his weight a little heavier on Blaine's chest. "I'm going to apply everywhere -- Julliard, NYU, Columbia, the New School -- Maybe I'll even try for Parsons. Or F.I.T. And I'll build my portfolio, and it'll be so good, and you can model for me." Blaine blushes at that and tries to turn away, but Kurt catches his cheek and pulls him back in, kisses him again and again, and when he finally lets up, Blaine is the breathless one. "And you'll get the lead in the school musical again, and I'll do community theatre, and I'll work for my dad and you can lead the glee club to another nationals trophy, and we'll make it, Blaine. And next year, it'll be you and me on that train. Together."
"Together," Blaine echoes, and when his voice comes out more faint than he would like it to, he emphasizes his point by lifting his head off the pillows just enough so he can kiss Kurt again. His hands slide into Kurt's hair, keeping the two of them connected even when Blaine's neck starts to hurt and he has to sink back down into the pillows. And Kurt lets himself be tugged and guided, stays with Blaine the entire way, keeps kissing him. And it's not the same, exactly, as when they're making out and can't control themselves; it's gentler, softer, but there's a kind of passion to it that warms Blaine all the way down to his bones.
"And we'll get a little place," Kurt murmurs, pulling back and swinging one leg over Blaine's hips, straddling him and running his hands very lightly down Blaine's chest, coming back up (rucking up his undershirt as they move) to smooth them down Blaine's arms, his fingers tangling with Blaine's as he settles back, perched on the tops of Blaine's thighs. "Just you and me, no sharing with Rachel or Santana or anyone weird like that." Blaine chuckles a little at that, squeezes Kurt's hands. Kurt smiles down at him, folding forward and pushing Blaine's hands up until they're level with his shoulders, Kurt's weight trapping him in a way that makes him shiver pleasantly. "And we'll get married," Kurt says, leaning in just enough to brush his lips across the top of Blaine's cheek, press a sweet kiss to his forehead and another, even sweeter one, to his lips. "In Central Park. On Christmas. And we won't even have to elope; we can have everyone there."
Blaine wants nothing more than to reach up and haul Kurt closer, roll them over in the bed so he can pin Kurt to the mattress and cover him with kisses, but Kurt's too strong and Blaine is trapped, arching up to press their chests together as Kurt's lips trail lazily up Blaine's jawline in the direction of his ear. "Kurt," he groans. "Yes. God, I -- Yes. I want that. So much, Kurt; I --"
"So this isn't over," Kurt says, his voice fierce and low and right in Blaine's ear, making him shiver. "It's going to be perfect, Blaine. And even if it's not, we'll still be together. So don't you dare feel guilty about any of this. I'm here with the person I love. And that's exactly where I should be."
He pulls back, staring down at Blaine with such intensity that Blaine squirms a little under the scrutiny, even though he never looks away from Kurt's eyes, not once. "God, I love you," Blaine breathes.
Kurt's expression softens, and he finally lets go of Blaine's hands, lets Blaine wrap his arms around him and pull him back down, Kurt's head on Blaine's chest, Kurt's arms winding around Blaine's waist, holding him tightly. "I love you too," Kurt murmurs, and Blaine can feel Kurt's breath through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. "And I'm not sorry I'm here, with you. I don't want you to feel sorry about it either."
"Okay," Blaine whispers, and he knows that's not really going to be enough to make him stop feeling guilty, at least for right now. But he'll try, and he'll keep trying. And someday, he'll get there. "Kurt?"
Kurt snuggles into him, shifting so that one of his legs is between Blaine's, their bodies thoroughly tangled together. "Yeah?"
"Did... Did you just propose to me?"
He can actually feel the curve of Kurt's smile through his shirt. "Mmm-hmm. And you accepted."
"'Course I did," Blaine says, and holds Kurt a little bit tighter, because Kurt proposed and he accepted, and oh wow. "I just..."
"Obviously, we're putting the wedding off for a few years," Kurt says, and the way he's angled it's like he's speaking directly to Blaine's heart, and oh wow. "Maybe not until we graduate, but at least until we're settled. In New York. Together."
"Together," Blaine echoes, again, and closes his eyes, and presses his cheek to Kurt's hair. Together.
He likes the way that sounds, together. He likes the way it makes him feel. It's good. It's so good.
And he can't hate that. Not at all.