Frame Your Hazel Eyes
Title: Frame Your Hazel Eyes
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Rachel/Finn
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1850
Summary: Future!Klaine, set mostly in New York because man, can I imagine Kurt and Blaine in the Big Apple. Is love ever really enough? When you’re growing from a boy to a man and being pulled in all directions can you keep hold of the hand of your first love, can you make it through?
A/N: This is the first of what looks like becoming a reasonable sized verse, set post season 3. There's about 16,000 words written so far and I’ma try to keep all the parts in chronological order but if that doesn’t happen shoot the plot bunnies and not me, thanks. Also, I hope you like it :)
Kurt Hummel isn’t a fan of Leonardo DiCaprio, per se, Leo is absolutely not his type, not even in Titanic which has Rachel and Mercedes positively drooling over him through their tears but he does love Inception; he has ‘you mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling’ scribbled on the inside of all of his notebooks, has made it his mantra because it’s true: one mustn’t be afraid and one has to have dreams. The dream maketh the man, or something. Anyway, one mustn’t be afraid.
Kurt has courage and Kurt isn’t afraid.
He used to be afraid, once, back in high school, before Blaine.
Once upon a time Kurt was afraid of everything, he was just really good, most of the time, at not letting it show. He dressed how he wanted to dressed and didn’t bother trying to hide who he was because Kurt is nothing if not realistic and trying to pretend he wasn’t ‘the gay kid’ would be like trying to convince somebody the sky was pink with yellow dots; he surrounded himself with people who were just as different as he was in their own way, wrapped himself up in Glee club and hoped for a safety in numbers that never came; he developed his sharp wit to the point that he could cut with a look, learning that he could wound with words the way assholes like Karofsky wounded with fists and he tried his hardest to never let anybody see him cry. Bullies are like dogs; they can smell your fear and Kurt masked the scent of his in expensive scarves and sarcasm and high notes until one day he just couldn’t anymore.
And then, just when he was on the brink of giving up there was a boy in blazer on a staircase, like he’d been sent there just for Kurt, a gift from some God that he didn’t even believe in. A boy who sang Katy Perry songs like it was his right and used too much hair gel and screwed up his nose when he laughed and sang songs to cute boys in GAP because who the hell even cared what anybody else thought and who made Kurt see that being gay, that being him, didn’t have to mean slushies and dumpsters and never singing lead.
Blaine changed Kurt’s life, really.
Beautiful, wonderful dapper Blaine; Blaine who is the most wonderful person Kurt has ever seen but who looks at Kurt like he hung the moon and stars and Kurt can never quite figure that out. Blaine who takes everything in his stride; who is so rarely fazed by anything; who has smoothed down all of Kurt’s sharp corners and rough edges so that now there are days when Kurt looks in the mirror and only sees the best parts of himself.
***
All the way through his senior year NYADA had been Kurt’s dream. It was a big dream, granted but Kurt knew that he was good, knew that if he was given the chance then he could really make it there and being friends with Rachel made him believe that if he reached high enough then he too could touch the stars, could grasp them with the fingers of one hand, the other holding onto Blaine so tightly.
The day he found out he hadn’t made the cut he cried, really cried, hot tears of frustration into Blaine’s chest because he’d wanted it so badly that he hadn’t even had a back up plan and what was going to become of him?
Blaine had held him and hadn’t said a word because somehow Blaine always knew just what to say, or how sometimes the only thing Kurt wanted to hear was silence. Blaine held him and Kurt cried and then he turned up the next day on Kurt’s doorstep with prospectuses and hugs and smiles and ‘we can still do New York Kurt, we just have to do it differently’ and Kurt had curled his legs underneath him and bitten down on his bottom lip as Blaine flicked through and pointed out courses and hummed, always perfectly in tune and Kurt had wondered for the millionth time how he’d gotten quite so lucky.
Kurt might not have made it but Blaine could have gone to NYADA.
They both knew it. Kurt had suggested he applied because he loved Blaine and he wanted him to do well; he wanted to see Blaine’s name in lights but a tiny part of him, the same part that had felt a little sick when Blaine got Tony hoped he wouldn’t because he really didn’t want to have to live vicariously through his boyfriend. He knew it was selfish and he never ever said anything out loud to anybody, not even Rachel although he knew she at least would understand because he above all he would always be proud of Blaine but at the same time he wanted to live his own dream, not watch from the sidelines as Blaine lived it for him.
As it was, Blaine didn’t even apply to NYADA, just shook his head and said it wasn’t for him. Instead he applied, like Kurt, to Columbia, changed his mind about what he was going to major in pretty much every day and wapractically walking on air when he convinced Kurt that they should both apply for one of the university’s many a cappella groups.
‘Imagine if we both got into Notes and Keys, Kurt, college is going to be the most amazing thing.’
And Kurt figured Columbia could offer him more than NYADA could anyway and he dreamed of Broadway and New York and Blaine holding his hand in public and nobody batting an eye lid and for such a long time it seemed so far away but time moves so fast when you’re young and you’re in love and you have your whole life ahead of you and all of a sudden New York was no longer a speck on the horizon and here he is: Kurt Hummel, college student and actual bona fide resident of New York City.
His Dad and Carole left two days ago, his Dad holding him so tightly that Kurt was sure he’d broken a rib. He told Kurt to behave in a voice so gruff that Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care when he ruffled his hair and then they’d been gone, and the four of them: him and Blaine, Finn and Rachel were alone in New York.
Drunk on opportunity and each other, hand in hand - the four of them against the world - they wandered down Fifth Avenue and climbed to the top of the Empire State and bought food and bottles of sparkling water from cute little delis and had a picnic in Central Park and queued up for $12 tickets to Wicked and Kurt had squeezed Blaine’s hand the whole way through and almost forgotten to breathe because this was it. He’d done it, he’d really really done it. This, New York City was his life now and in less than a year Blaine would be with him every single day and Kurt didn’t think anything could ever be so perfect, could ever make any of this anything less than the time of his life.
Except there’s a plane due to leave sooner than Kurt, than any of them would like, taking Blaine and Finn back to Ohio and Kurt is so not ready for that.
Rachel is clinging on to Finn like she’ll never let him go and she’s wailing, actually wailing but for the first time ever Kurt doesn’t think she’s being over dramatic. He’s having to grit his teeth not to join in, to sob with her in perfect harmony. His throat is tight, burning and he feels Blaine’s hand, solid and warm on the small of his back. He turns to face him and Blaine’s eyes are shining and Kurt has to swallow down a sob.
Blaine shakes his head, a silent ‘not here’ and Kurt understands, takes him by the hand and leads him to his room, pushing the door closed and feeling Blaine’s arms around him before he’s had chance to even breathe.
Blaine buries his face in Kurt’s neck, breathing in, squeezing him and Kurt closes his eyes, squeezes Blaine back just as tightly before moving away slightly, looking at Blaine, trying to ignore the lump in his throat and then they’re kissing. Blaine’s mouth is on his, nipping at his lips and tangling their tongues together, his hand moving up to the back of Kurt’s head. It’s hard and messy and insistent. It’s teeth and tongue, rough and desperate, bodies pressed flush and hands tugging at clothes even though they both know there is no time to take things further than this. Kurt tugs on Blaine’s hair, gel free for once, all soft and a little wavy the way Kurt likes it best and Blaine moans into his mouth, biting down on Kurt’s lip hard enough to hurt and moves a little so their cocks brush together through the heavy denim of their jeans.
Kurt wishes suddenly that they’d forsaken the sights that are going nowhere for the sake of a morning in bed with Blaine who is because what he wants is Blaine, naked and in his bed two days ago and to stay like that for the rest of his life; clothes and aeroplanes and the next year of his life are all just inconveniences that Kurt could do without, thanks very much because why does he need a degree anyway?
When they finally pull apart they’re both gasping for breath and Kurt is so so tempted to just forget this stupid city and follow Blaine home, because a year apart, who is he kidding?
‘Blaine.’
‘Kurt’
They don’t say anything further, because what is there to say when everything is wrapped up in just those two syllables and then Finn is banging on the door, his own voice a little husky as he reminds them of the time and Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hands tightly before lacing their fingers together.
‘5 weeks.’ Kurt says as they cling to each other’s hands at the airport and Blaine nods his head.
‘5 weeks. 5 weeks and I’ll be back and you can show me all the bits of this city that the tourists never see.’
Kurt nods his head, forces a smile onto his face as Blaine leans in and kisses him again, gently this time.
‘You’re going to be fabulous Kurt Hummel, so so fabulous. Live the dream.’
And Kurt stares into Blaine’s eyes for a long moment, committing them to memory, he mutters ‘courage’ and Blaine chuckles and kisses him again, looks at Finn and nods his head and then he’s gone, swept away in a sea of people. Kurt has never felt so alone as he does right then, even with Rachel’s hand is small and cold and desperate in his but Kurt, Kurt doesn’t cry.