Fic: The Wisdom of Wildflowers - Part 6/9 +epilogue
Title: The Wisdom of Wildflowers
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count: 35000, 5400 this part
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Brittany/Santana, rest of New Directions, Burt Hummel
Spoilers: everything through Glease, veers away from canon after that
Warnings: character death
Summary: It's been ten years since Kurt set foot in the halls of William McKinley High School, but the death of a friend has him headed back to Lima and spending time with his old friends. The week brings sorrow, reminiscences, love, and maybe the chance to mend the tears in old relationships.
Six
The fog is still nestled like a blanket on the lake, diffusing the soft pink light of the morning sun. It's early. Too early to be up after the night before.
Kurt sits in Quinn's paddle boat and slides his fingers through the cool beads of dew that run along its plastic sides. He wishes for a moment that he had been enterprising enough to seek out another early riser to take it out on the lake with him, and yet, it's good to be alone with his thoughts, with just the sloshing of the water against the boat and the twittering of birds for company.
He'd been awoken again and again throughout the night by variations of the same dream playing out like a movie in his head - at times bright and joyous and others depressing in its hopelessness. What little sleep he did get had been restless, and yet here he sits, continuing to replay it in his mind. Blinking lights and music, screams and kisses going around and around, high up in a dizzying circle. Crying in a park at night. The chirping of a tiny, delicate bird. A casket lowering into the ground - goodbye. Goodbye for the last time. Goodbye forever. A clasp of hands - steady, comfort; and another - hope, mystery, butterflies rushing his stomach, running down a hallway. Accusations in a hallway of a different school where he no longer belongs. Smiles and sunshine and the Ferris Wheel again - always spinning around in circles but getting nowhere. But it's okay. The destination holds so little significance when you're happy on the way.
He's still thinking about the Ferris Wheel when he feels the boat tip slightly to one side - another body stepping in.
Blaine looks rumpled and sleepy, his hair a fluffy mass of curls and his clothes more casual than Kurt has yet seen. He settles himself in the seat next to Kurt and takes stock of the boat and the still lake water. “Do you want to take it out?” he asks. He's eyeing Kurt cautiously, like he can sense his strange mood. Kurt just nods in response, not able to get his tongue to form words quite yet. He sits forward with his feet in place as Blaine leans away to unlatch the rope which connects the paddle boat to the dock.
Blaine doesn't say anything as they work their feet in tandem, propelling the boat forward through the water of the lake. He leaves Kurt to his silence, to his puzzle. Kurt has a build up of feeling in his stomach - a swooping, turning, tingling. It's almost as though he's there, in the dream, in the past, but it's too quiet. Too tranquil. And Blaine is not smiling. He's not laughing and teasing and giving Kurt cotton candy kisses.
“Remember that day we went to the Allen County Fair with Finn and Rachel?” Kurt asks, breaking into the quiet the way the boat breaks through the lonely patches of fog. “That was a good day.”
Blaine blinks up at him for a second before a bit of a smile curls across his lips. “It was a good day,” he says. “What made you think of it?”
“Just something Santana said to me the other night when we were sitting down here. About happiness. I kept having a dream about it last night. I still felt like I was riding the Ferris Wheel when I woke up. I still do a little.”
Kurt rests back against the seat and places his hands over his middle. He can still feel the swooping sensation. He looks over to where the lake slowly fades into marshland on their left. There is a duck in amongst the cattails giving them the evil eye and he almost wants to laugh.
He thinks about Blaine then, the day of the Allen County Fair, the way he had viewed him - a perfect vision of a boy almost without fault. He compares that perfect boy to the soft, beautiful, imperfect man sitting next to him with his stubble and unkempt hair and fine lines at the corners of his wide, sincere, beloved eyes. He knows which one of the two he prefers. He wishes he had been as clear of mind when he was eighteen. He wishes there were such things as time machines so he might go back and warn his younger self that there is no such thing as a perfect boy.
“I never really saw you properly,” he hears his own voice say quietly, almost of its own volition. Blaine perks up, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in an unspoken question. “But I suppose,” Kurt continues, “you were up too high for me to really see, on that lofty pedestal I'd placed you on.”
Blaine doesn't reply to that and Kurt doesn't look at him. He feels terrible suddenly. He wonders what would have become of them if he'd learned that lesson sooner. If he could have saved them both a lot of pain. “It must have hurt,” he whispers, “when you fell off of it.”
“I.... Yeah. It really did.”
“I'm sorry, Blaine. Years too late, but still just as heartfelt.”
“Thank you.” Blaine's voice is little more than a breath. Kurt continues to stare forward and wonders at the moisture he can feel at the corners of his eyes. Surely he hasn't any tears left to cry over this, not with the gulf of so many years between then and now.
There is an odd thrumming, a buzzing sound coming from the distance. Kurt looks up as a model air plane swishes and dips overhead, then turns a circle to buzz back in the direction of its owners. The duck looks offended. She ruffles her feathers and plops down from her perch and into the water, paddling further into the reeds. They have stopped their own paddling. Kurt doesn't recall any decision to do so, but there they sit, unmoving and in silence on the surface of the lake.
“What were one and two?” Blaine asks. He's staring out across the way. There is a boy and his father retrieving their plane and getting ready to send it out on another flight.
“Hmm?”
“Your bucket list. Broadway was obviously first... but what was number two?”
“Broadway was number two, actually.”
Blaine furrows his brow again; his fingers are fiddling with the ends of his sweater sleeves. “So what was one?”
Kurt sucks in a deep breath and lets it slowly leave his nose. “Marrying you.”
It's like all of the sound has been vacuumed away all of a sudden. Kurt can no longer hear the model plane or the birds or the splish splosh of the water slapping against the side of the boat. He knows it's too late to take it back; the words are already out there, alive, floating on the air. Blaine says nothing and Kurt doesn't dare look at him. He starts to move his feet against the peddles, but Blaine doesn't join in and it doesn't work so well with only him. He almost laughs at the irony of that.
But then Blaine is there. All of Blaine. His hands grasp Kurt's face and his hair tickles against his cheeks and his knee slides between his legs and he's leaning Kurt backwards, and his mouth is right there against Kurt's, moving quickly, pressing and smacking and -
The boat tips and they are upended into the freezing water of the lake. Kurt sucks in a breath when he surfaces, shocked and shivering. He passes a hand over his eyes to wipe away the drips of water and the hair that has flattened and is hanging there, obscuring his vision. Blaine is treading water next to him, looking sheepish.
“Blaine Anderson!” Kurt scolds. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to tip over a paddle boat?”
Blaine widens his eyes and shrugs infinitesimally. He looks like he's tempted to smile, but he's too unsure of the situation to let himself. Kurt treads water for a few moments, staring into his eyes, pretending to be angry, but all he wants to do is smile and laugh. Instead he launches his body forward and grabs Blaine, recapturing his lips.
He tastes like toothpaste and lake water and the skin of his face is slick and cold, especially his nose as it presses into Kurt's cheek. They both gasp for a single breath, then dive back in, lips and tongues winding and pressing and tugging as the bob up and down, Blaine keeping them above water with his arms and legs as Kurt clings to him.
As it turns out, getting back into a paddle boat from the water below is even harder than tipping out of one. Every time Kurt rests his weight on the side and attempts to climb up, the opposite side lifts and he tumbles off anew. Blaine seems to find the situation simply hilarious, and keeps his distance, laughing uproariously and taking on mouthfuls of lake water.
“Careful there, Anderson, you might get a stitch in your side from all the help you're giving me,” Kurt says sarcastically, swimming over to Blaine and poking him in the side. Blaine just grins at him and licks his lips which are quickly turning blue. Kurt places a finger over his bottom one. “We really need to get out of this water,” he says more seriously. “It's too cold yet.”
Blaine nods his head and swims over to the paddle boat. He holds down the opposite side so that Kurt can climb in. Kurt tries to be graceful, but he ends up toppling over the side and smacking his head into one of the seat backs. “I hate paddle boats,” he grumbles, rubbing the back of his head while Blaine lifts himself in, making the entire boat rock worryingly back and forth, water sloshing up over the side. Kurt throws out his arms to steady the thing.
“We won't tip again,” Blaine reassures. He helps Kurt back into his seat. “And for the record - paddle boats are my absolute favourite kind of boat,” he adds with a wide grin.
“Uh huh. Fond childhood memories?” Kurt says with a fond smile.
“Nope. Just as of today.” Blaine is still grinning at him and he's got water dripping from his drenched curls, running in rivulets down his cheeks and his forehead and over his blue lips. He's shivering and his sweater and jeans and sticking to him like second skin. He looks like a drowned puppy. And yet, he's still grinning from ear to ear, literally beaming.
“Let's get back and dried off, Romeo,” Kurt tells him with a shake of his head. He wonders if the joy he feels is pouring from his eyes like it is from Blaine's. He hopes so. He doesn't want there to be any confusion about his feelings on the matter.
They get mocked upon entering the house. “How the hell did you manage to fall into the lake?” Artie asks.
“All Blaine's fault,” Kurt says, poking his thumb at the culprit. But Blaine looks nothing if not completely proud of himself.
Quinn arches an eyebrow and smirks when he passes her near the door to his room, a necessary detour on his way to a hot shower.
When he comes back down feeling much cozier, the house is empty of everyone but Sam and Blaine. They're sitting in the living room and laughing together. “Where did everyone go?” Kurt asks.
“Apparently they took our earlier mishap as inspiration,” Blaine answers.
He hears a loud whoop from outside and what sounds like the hum of an engine, followed by a chorus of oooohhhhh and a lot of laughter.
“What the hell are they doing?”
“Pulling each other around on an inner tube.”
“Oh Jesus, with the power boat?”
“Yep.” Blaine grins at him as he shakes his head. He can only imagine that it must have Puck or Finn's idea.
“Well good luck to them. That water is frigid.”
Sam laughs and gets up from the sofa. “I'm getting in on that action, cold or not. You're not coming?”
“I just rewarmed thanks.” Kurt shakes his head some more as Sam goes past. “Enjoy.”
“Will do, man!”
Blaine smiles at him from the sofa. After Sam has shut the door rather loudly behind him, Kurt turns and joins Blaine. “Are they all insane? It's not like we purposely went for an ice bath.”
Blaine lets out one quick bark of a laugh and then goes quiet. He's tracing his fingers over the stripes on the sofa's upholstery, his brow straight and serious, his dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. “Worth it though. At least for me.”
The meaning of his statement, of his look, is not lost on Kurt. He stretches his hand across and places it over Blaine's wandering one. He gives Blaine's hand a little squeeze. “Hot kisses are totally worth a dunk in the lake. And a few mouthfuls of lake water. And whatever nastiness might be lurking within its depths.”
Blaine turns over his hand and laces their fingers together. His hands are soft, strong, familiar. Kurt has to force his eyes away, to stop himself from watching as his own thumb traces a path up and down the side of Blaine's and Blaine begins to copy the movement, a battle of caresses.
“Should we go out and watch the madness? We might get some good blackmail videos,” Kurt says. His voice comes out timid, breathy. He's always hated when his voice sounds that way.
Blaine tears his eyes away from their hands to look up at Kurt. “Yeah. Sure. We can... if you want.”
Kurt is loath to pull his hand away, but he needs to go find his phone in order to film any of the tubing shenanigans.
He can just make out Puck's bald head behind the wheel of the speed boat in the distance, zooming around the lake. On the tube trailing after it, bumping and pitching and yelling, is Finn.
“Oh my God, those idiots,” Kurt mutters while Blaine laughs next to him, leaning forward with his hands on his knees.
Mercedes and Tina are hollering from the shore, jumping and laughing and cheering. Sam is sitting on the dock next to Quinn, awaiting their turns on the inner tube of death.
Finn lets out a particularly loud grunting yell, the inner tube teetering precariously back and forth. Puck picks up speed and the tube hits a pocket of water, and Finn is down, flipped over and out as Rachel gasps and covers her eyes and lays her head up against Mike's shoulder, which is bopping her up and down as he cracks up laughing. Quinn hollers at Puck to stop and double back. It takes a few seconds for Finn to reappear and everyone cheers as Puck hauls him up into the speed boat and drives back in the direction of the dock.
“Yeah, okay, I've changed my mind,” Kurt says to Blaine, his heart only just leaving his throat. “I don't want to watch this after all. Call me if my CPR skills are required.” He pats Blaine on the shoulder and Blaine clasps his hand, keeping him from turning tail and heading back into the house.
“I'll come with you,” he says.
“You don't have to. You can stay and enjoy the idiots if you want.”
Blaine smiles and shakes his head. “I'd rather be with you.”
Kurt's heart swells and he looks away, embarrassed by his reddening cheeks. He never blushes with anything but anger these days. It's been a strange adjustment since he's been back in Blaine's presence.
They only get as far as the verandah and settle on the swing there.
They rock back and forth in silence, enjoying the light breeze that brings in the fragrant scent of the lilacs bushes that line the driveway. Kurt closes his eyes and breathes it in. It's peaceful. At least until he hears another loud roar of voices from down by the lake. He snaps his eyes open with a sigh to find Blaine watching him.
“Why did you laugh when I asked you if you were married?” he asks.
Kurt snorts a laugh. “Oh, well a comedic montage of my last several dates played in my head and I couldn't help myself. But seriously - I haven't been in a serious relationship for more than three years. And that one ended pretty messily, so...”
Blaine tilts his head to one side and turns, curling one leg up under him and continuing to propel the swing forward with his other foot. “What happened?”
“He cheated on me with my assistant. A brand new twist on a tired cliché!” Kurt adds in a bright voice. “One good thing did come out of it, though - a new assistant. And Lacey is so much better than Tara ever was.”
“He cheated on you with a woman?”
“Yep. Never saw that one coming. Got her pregnant, too. Guess she never saw it coming either.” Kurt grins and runs his fingers up the chain links that hold the swing to the ceiling of the verandah. He can find humour in the situation now. It hadn't been quite so funny at the time. “I heard he took off to Europe and left her with the kid. Stand up guy. I obviously have stellar taste in men,” he adds and chuckles, flattening his feet out on the floor and rocking them a little more quickly.
Blaine's expression is drooping, his entire face looks sad from his eyebrows and his big eyes to his turned down lips and chin. Kurt reaches across and takes his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I wasn't talking about you, dummy,” he says, trying to make light.
But Blaine stays silent. Kurt feels terrible and wishes he had never brought up that mess with Robert and Tara. He doesn't even give a damn about it any more. He lets his mind wander back over the past few years and finds he doesn't really give a damn about a lot of things. He takes another deep breath, the scent of the lilacs soothing.
“Rachel used to accuse me of comparing every guy I ever dated to you,” he says, smiling out at the trees. The swing creaks under them, Kurt's feet thumping lightly heel to toe on the wood floor of the verandah.
“And did you?” Blaine asks, his voice quiet.
“Oh yes. Of course I did. There were Venn Diagrams and complicated flow charts - the whole shebang.”
He turns and grins at Blaine and he laughs, which was exactly what Kurt was aiming for. “And even with your small stature -”
“Hey! No short jokes!”
“- they still never managed to measure up.”
Blaine's eyes go soft and he places his elbow on the back of the swing and rests his head in his open palm. He just sits and watches Kurt for a moment, a small smile on his lips. He looks content, so Kurt does nothing to disturb him. It's not because he's enjoying the way Blaine is looking at him or anything. No. Nothing of the sort.
“I do that, too,” Blaine says finally. “It was always you and I just... They were never you.” He lets out a little huff of a laugh and shakes his head back and forth once, making the swing bounce around.
“So you never considered getting hitched either?”
“Nah. I've only had one what I considered to be serious relationship. Well, besides you and me... But, um...” Blaine clears his throat. He looks embarrassed, as if Kurt is going to refute his belief that their relationship had been serious. “Well, he and I, we were together for nearly three years and I never once considered it.”
“What happened?”
“Um... well, we were having problems already and it just sort of culminated and... um...” Blaine's face is flushed. He turns his head to hide it in the palm of his hand for a second. When he turns back he won't quite meet Kurt's eye. “God, this is so...”
“You aren't under any obligation to tell me, you know. Not that I don't want to know, because I have to admit that my curiosity is extremely piqued, what with your cheeks blazing a frightening shade of fuchsia and all...”
Blaine huffs a laugh and hides his face in his hand again for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Okay, um... well, I'd had quite a lot to drink, you have to understand, and I... I called him you.”
Kurt didn't know what it was he had expected, but it certainly wasn't that. His eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Oh God. We were, um... you know, and I said your name and... That was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.”
Kurt has the urge to giggle, but he stifles it. Blaine is already mortified enough. “I'm so sorry.”
“So not your fault,” Blaine says. He starts to laugh a little, so Kurt feels less guilt at joining in. “Well, maybe a little bit your fault,” Blaine adds as an afterthought. Kurt snorts and slaps him playfully on the thigh.
“When was this?” he asks.
“Not long enough ago not to be weird.”
Kurt laughs harder and Blaine gets even pinker. “It was just - I'd been thinking about you a lot. A lot of things crossing my path were reminding me of you, of us, and then I can remember, at the Christmas party we were attending that night they played Baby, It's Cold Outside and.... you were on my mind.”
“Oh, honey.” Kurt pats Blaine's leg again. But he can't stop himself from teasing. “Was it this past Christmas, Blaine?”
Blaine hangs his head. “No. The one before that.”
Kurt snorts a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. “It's okay, Blaine. You don't have to explain. Or be embarrassed. I think about you a lot, too. And that song... well, let's just say it's been banned from my holiday celebrations for a long time now.”
“Too many bad memories?” Blaine asks. His voice is quiet now.
Kurt shakes his head and smiles sadly at him. “Too many good ones.”
Blaine sucks in a breath, his eyes lowering to glance down at Kurt's mouth. They lean in at the same time. Their lips brush almost timidly at first, then more sure. Blaine sucks Kurt' s bottom lip into his mouth, then lets it go and slides his tongue out, licking across the top one. Kurt picks one of his feet up off the floor in order to lean in further, to get closer to Blaine's body, and wraps his arms around his neck, opening his mouth fully, his tongue twisting around Blaine's and pulling it into his mouth.
The swing creaks and sways under them.
Rachel corners him in their room after dinner, during which he and Blaine sat very close together at the dining room table and spoke quietly, barely remembering to eat. Kurt isn't one hundred percent sure of what is going on between them, but he knows that it's definitely something.
“Okay, I've kept my mouth shut long enough,” is her lead in. Kurt can't wait for her follow up.
“And that is truly a marvel; I should know. It must have been very difficult for you.” She slaps him on the arm and crawls up on their bed, tucking her legs up under her.
“Out with it, you. I would tell you everything if it was me.”
“Yes. In vivid detail. And I would be duly traumatized.”
“Kuurt.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don't know, Rachel! There have been some kisses and holding hands and talking. I don't know what you want me to tell you!”
“Is he your boyfriend? Are you gonna have babies and get married and buy a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence? And even more importantly...” She pauses dramatically. “...are you going to sex him up all night long?”
Kurt tosses a random article of clothing at her that he finds hanging over the back of the desk chair and she cackles and sticks out her tongue.
“I told you: I have no idea. I'm just going with the flow at the moment. But I - well, I don't want to get my hopes up, okay? If there is any advancement in that direction you'll be the first to know, all right? Well, third. After myself, and of course Blaine.”
“Blaine!” Rachel giggles and throws herself backwards on the bed and kicks her feet into the air. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” she sing-songs. “You guys are soul mates and you're going to sex him up all night long.”
Kurt looks for something more substantial to throw at her. “No one is sexing anybody up all night long, okay? God, I swear you are fifteen years old still.”
She giggles some more while Kurt gets out his laptop and checks his e-mail. There are messages from his underlings at work, but nothing serious. Not that they aren't trying to make the issues out to be much more of a big deal than they are, but he's used to that. He starts to reply to the most recent one when he feels Rachel's hand on his forearm.
“Kurt? I know you're trying not to get your hopes up. I know you're worried about being hurt again. But... be open to it, okay? To love. I worry about you sometimes. I know it's been hard, but, well, you're worth it. And he's special. I'll never think anyone completely deserves you, but he comes closest.”
“Rachel -”
“I mean it. Don't sit behind your walls sharpening your tongue, poised and ready for the inevitable battle. I know it's instinctive for you, but... Just try, okay?”
Kurt shuts his laptop, his half written e-mail still open on the screen, and swivels the chair so that he's facing her. “So you don't think it's too soon? Too sudden? It's been so long, I -”
“No, Kurt. I think it's the best idea you've had in years. If the tables were turned and it was me and Finn? Well, we were a train wreck. Right from the start. But not you two. You were always perfect up until you weren't. If you can mend that small fracture and get back to perfect, why wouldn't you? You deserve it. You deserve to be happy.”
“But what if this is just a fling for him, or...?”
Rachel sighs and crouches down, placing both of her hands on Kurt's knees. “I've seen the way that boy looks at you. He's in deep, Kurt. In fact, I'm pretty sure he never resurfaced after the last plunge.”
She pats his knees and gets up, pecking him on the top of the head before heading for the door. “Be careful,” she says. “Just not too careful. That's all I'm saying.” And she's gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
They spend the evening reminiscing about Brittany. It's just the kind of memorial Kurt is sure is exactly what she would have wanted. They tell stories, sing songs, Kurt even pulls out his old yearbook so that everyone can flip through. It's like a storm cloud has passed over them all and they can breathe a sigh of relief. Now it feels okay for the laughs to outnumber the tears. Even Santana seems all right, but Kurt gives her an extra firm hug just in case. She nods at him and winks and pecks him on the cheek.
He doesn't spend every second of the evening near Blaine, but he doesn't shy away from him either. Rachel gives him several pleased looking smiles whenever she sees the two of them together, which Kurt sincerely hopes that Blaine doesn't catch. She's like an overbearing mother proud of her kid for going on his first date. Kurt rolls his eyes at her when she gives him a thumbs up. She ups the ante and starts making rather sexual looking gestures and Kurt clears his throat and asks Blaine if he'd like to step outside with him to get some air. It's been drizzling a bit, and the humidity in the house is becoming unbearable. Quinn grins at them from where she is cracking open a window as they pass her on their way to the front door.
“What was Rachel doing?” Blaine asks. He looks confused, so Kurt is pretty sure he didn't catch her gestures. Or at least he didn't understand them.
“Being Rachel,” Kurt says, his mouth stretching wide in a yawn.
Blaine lets it go. “Tired?”
“Yeah. Too many late nights I guess. And Rachel hogs the entire bed. Hard to believe it possible, what with the size of her.”
Blaine hums his agreement and looks around. It's no longer raining but there is a constant drip of rainwater falling from the roof and bouncing against the steps. He sticks a hand out, palm up, and catches some of it as Kurt watches him.
“You could stay with me. I mean, if you want. And if Rachel will be okay...” Blaine stumbles over his words a little and wipes his wet palm on his sweater.
Kurt smirks at him. “Are you asking me to sleep with you, Blaine?”
“No. I mean, yes. But not like... we don't have to do anything. I mean, unless you want to?” His eyebrows are arched high on his forehead, questioning.
Kurt has the urge to giggle. He crooks his finger at Blaine instead. “Come here, you,” he says. Blaine laughs a little nervously and takes two steps forward. Kurt pulls him against his body by two fistfuls of his sweater and places an open mouthed kiss on his lips. He pulls back just slightly and pecks Blaine on the nose. “Which room are you staying in? Do we need to kick anybody out?”
Blaine lets out a laugh and presses forward, chasing Kurt's lips. “No. I, um... I'm in a tent actually. I brought a tent. Thought it would be nice to sleep outside...”
“You are asking me to sleep in a tent with you? On the ground. Me?”
Blaine runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip, holding back a smile. “I have a camp bed. I'm not that hardcore.”
Kurt huffs. “Me?”
“Yep.” Blaine's eyes are shining with amusement now. He knows Kurt is teasing. Very few people have ever been able to read him so well and most always take him far more seriously than they ought to.
Kurt makes a growling noise deep in his throat. “If it was anyone else but you I would... well, I would tell them to kindly go fuck themselves.”
“But... since it's me?” Blaine gives him a hopeful smile, leaning back to look up coyly into his eyes. He even flutters his ridiculously long eyelashes at him, the bastard.
Kurt growls again and pulls away. “Ugh! I'll go get changed.”
He hears Blaine let out a triumphant yay! and the thud of his feet hitting the deck as though he jumped up in celebration. Kurt grins all the way to his room.
previous next
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count: 35000, 5400 this part
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Brittany/Santana, rest of New Directions, Burt Hummel
Spoilers: everything through Glease, veers away from canon after that
Warnings: character death
Summary: It's been ten years since Kurt set foot in the halls of William McKinley High School, but the death of a friend has him headed back to Lima and spending time with his old friends. The week brings sorrow, reminiscences, love, and maybe the chance to mend the tears in old relationships.
Six
The fog is still nestled like a blanket on the lake, diffusing the soft pink light of the morning sun. It's early. Too early to be up after the night before.
Kurt sits in Quinn's paddle boat and slides his fingers through the cool beads of dew that run along its plastic sides. He wishes for a moment that he had been enterprising enough to seek out another early riser to take it out on the lake with him, and yet, it's good to be alone with his thoughts, with just the sloshing of the water against the boat and the twittering of birds for company.
He'd been awoken again and again throughout the night by variations of the same dream playing out like a movie in his head - at times bright and joyous and others depressing in its hopelessness. What little sleep he did get had been restless, and yet here he sits, continuing to replay it in his mind. Blinking lights and music, screams and kisses going around and around, high up in a dizzying circle. Crying in a park at night. The chirping of a tiny, delicate bird. A casket lowering into the ground - goodbye. Goodbye for the last time. Goodbye forever. A clasp of hands - steady, comfort; and another - hope, mystery, butterflies rushing his stomach, running down a hallway. Accusations in a hallway of a different school where he no longer belongs. Smiles and sunshine and the Ferris Wheel again - always spinning around in circles but getting nowhere. But it's okay. The destination holds so little significance when you're happy on the way.
He's still thinking about the Ferris Wheel when he feels the boat tip slightly to one side - another body stepping in.
Blaine looks rumpled and sleepy, his hair a fluffy mass of curls and his clothes more casual than Kurt has yet seen. He settles himself in the seat next to Kurt and takes stock of the boat and the still lake water. “Do you want to take it out?” he asks. He's eyeing Kurt cautiously, like he can sense his strange mood. Kurt just nods in response, not able to get his tongue to form words quite yet. He sits forward with his feet in place as Blaine leans away to unlatch the rope which connects the paddle boat to the dock.
Blaine doesn't say anything as they work their feet in tandem, propelling the boat forward through the water of the lake. He leaves Kurt to his silence, to his puzzle. Kurt has a build up of feeling in his stomach - a swooping, turning, tingling. It's almost as though he's there, in the dream, in the past, but it's too quiet. Too tranquil. And Blaine is not smiling. He's not laughing and teasing and giving Kurt cotton candy kisses.
“Remember that day we went to the Allen County Fair with Finn and Rachel?” Kurt asks, breaking into the quiet the way the boat breaks through the lonely patches of fog. “That was a good day.”
Blaine blinks up at him for a second before a bit of a smile curls across his lips. “It was a good day,” he says. “What made you think of it?”
“Just something Santana said to me the other night when we were sitting down here. About happiness. I kept having a dream about it last night. I still felt like I was riding the Ferris Wheel when I woke up. I still do a little.”
Kurt rests back against the seat and places his hands over his middle. He can still feel the swooping sensation. He looks over to where the lake slowly fades into marshland on their left. There is a duck in amongst the cattails giving them the evil eye and he almost wants to laugh.
He thinks about Blaine then, the day of the Allen County Fair, the way he had viewed him - a perfect vision of a boy almost without fault. He compares that perfect boy to the soft, beautiful, imperfect man sitting next to him with his stubble and unkempt hair and fine lines at the corners of his wide, sincere, beloved eyes. He knows which one of the two he prefers. He wishes he had been as clear of mind when he was eighteen. He wishes there were such things as time machines so he might go back and warn his younger self that there is no such thing as a perfect boy.
“I never really saw you properly,” he hears his own voice say quietly, almost of its own volition. Blaine perks up, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in an unspoken question. “But I suppose,” Kurt continues, “you were up too high for me to really see, on that lofty pedestal I'd placed you on.”
Blaine doesn't reply to that and Kurt doesn't look at him. He feels terrible suddenly. He wonders what would have become of them if he'd learned that lesson sooner. If he could have saved them both a lot of pain. “It must have hurt,” he whispers, “when you fell off of it.”
“I.... Yeah. It really did.”
“I'm sorry, Blaine. Years too late, but still just as heartfelt.”
“Thank you.” Blaine's voice is little more than a breath. Kurt continues to stare forward and wonders at the moisture he can feel at the corners of his eyes. Surely he hasn't any tears left to cry over this, not with the gulf of so many years between then and now.
There is an odd thrumming, a buzzing sound coming from the distance. Kurt looks up as a model air plane swishes and dips overhead, then turns a circle to buzz back in the direction of its owners. The duck looks offended. She ruffles her feathers and plops down from her perch and into the water, paddling further into the reeds. They have stopped their own paddling. Kurt doesn't recall any decision to do so, but there they sit, unmoving and in silence on the surface of the lake.
“What were one and two?” Blaine asks. He's staring out across the way. There is a boy and his father retrieving their plane and getting ready to send it out on another flight.
“Hmm?”
“Your bucket list. Broadway was obviously first... but what was number two?”
“Broadway was number two, actually.”
Blaine furrows his brow again; his fingers are fiddling with the ends of his sweater sleeves. “So what was one?”
Kurt sucks in a deep breath and lets it slowly leave his nose. “Marrying you.”
It's like all of the sound has been vacuumed away all of a sudden. Kurt can no longer hear the model plane or the birds or the splish splosh of the water slapping against the side of the boat. He knows it's too late to take it back; the words are already out there, alive, floating on the air. Blaine says nothing and Kurt doesn't dare look at him. He starts to move his feet against the peddles, but Blaine doesn't join in and it doesn't work so well with only him. He almost laughs at the irony of that.
But then Blaine is there. All of Blaine. His hands grasp Kurt's face and his hair tickles against his cheeks and his knee slides between his legs and he's leaning Kurt backwards, and his mouth is right there against Kurt's, moving quickly, pressing and smacking and -
The boat tips and they are upended into the freezing water of the lake. Kurt sucks in a breath when he surfaces, shocked and shivering. He passes a hand over his eyes to wipe away the drips of water and the hair that has flattened and is hanging there, obscuring his vision. Blaine is treading water next to him, looking sheepish.
“Blaine Anderson!” Kurt scolds. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to tip over a paddle boat?”
Blaine widens his eyes and shrugs infinitesimally. He looks like he's tempted to smile, but he's too unsure of the situation to let himself. Kurt treads water for a few moments, staring into his eyes, pretending to be angry, but all he wants to do is smile and laugh. Instead he launches his body forward and grabs Blaine, recapturing his lips.
He tastes like toothpaste and lake water and the skin of his face is slick and cold, especially his nose as it presses into Kurt's cheek. They both gasp for a single breath, then dive back in, lips and tongues winding and pressing and tugging as the bob up and down, Blaine keeping them above water with his arms and legs as Kurt clings to him.
As it turns out, getting back into a paddle boat from the water below is even harder than tipping out of one. Every time Kurt rests his weight on the side and attempts to climb up, the opposite side lifts and he tumbles off anew. Blaine seems to find the situation simply hilarious, and keeps his distance, laughing uproariously and taking on mouthfuls of lake water.
“Careful there, Anderson, you might get a stitch in your side from all the help you're giving me,” Kurt says sarcastically, swimming over to Blaine and poking him in the side. Blaine just grins at him and licks his lips which are quickly turning blue. Kurt places a finger over his bottom one. “We really need to get out of this water,” he says more seriously. “It's too cold yet.”
Blaine nods his head and swims over to the paddle boat. He holds down the opposite side so that Kurt can climb in. Kurt tries to be graceful, but he ends up toppling over the side and smacking his head into one of the seat backs. “I hate paddle boats,” he grumbles, rubbing the back of his head while Blaine lifts himself in, making the entire boat rock worryingly back and forth, water sloshing up over the side. Kurt throws out his arms to steady the thing.
“We won't tip again,” Blaine reassures. He helps Kurt back into his seat. “And for the record - paddle boats are my absolute favourite kind of boat,” he adds with a wide grin.
“Uh huh. Fond childhood memories?” Kurt says with a fond smile.
“Nope. Just as of today.” Blaine is still grinning at him and he's got water dripping from his drenched curls, running in rivulets down his cheeks and his forehead and over his blue lips. He's shivering and his sweater and jeans and sticking to him like second skin. He looks like a drowned puppy. And yet, he's still grinning from ear to ear, literally beaming.
“Let's get back and dried off, Romeo,” Kurt tells him with a shake of his head. He wonders if the joy he feels is pouring from his eyes like it is from Blaine's. He hopes so. He doesn't want there to be any confusion about his feelings on the matter.
They get mocked upon entering the house. “How the hell did you manage to fall into the lake?” Artie asks.
“All Blaine's fault,” Kurt says, poking his thumb at the culprit. But Blaine looks nothing if not completely proud of himself.
Quinn arches an eyebrow and smirks when he passes her near the door to his room, a necessary detour on his way to a hot shower.
When he comes back down feeling much cozier, the house is empty of everyone but Sam and Blaine. They're sitting in the living room and laughing together. “Where did everyone go?” Kurt asks.
“Apparently they took our earlier mishap as inspiration,” Blaine answers.
He hears a loud whoop from outside and what sounds like the hum of an engine, followed by a chorus of oooohhhhh and a lot of laughter.
“What the hell are they doing?”
“Pulling each other around on an inner tube.”
“Oh Jesus, with the power boat?”
“Yep.” Blaine grins at him as he shakes his head. He can only imagine that it must have Puck or Finn's idea.
“Well good luck to them. That water is frigid.”
Sam laughs and gets up from the sofa. “I'm getting in on that action, cold or not. You're not coming?”
“I just rewarmed thanks.” Kurt shakes his head some more as Sam goes past. “Enjoy.”
“Will do, man!”
Blaine smiles at him from the sofa. After Sam has shut the door rather loudly behind him, Kurt turns and joins Blaine. “Are they all insane? It's not like we purposely went for an ice bath.”
Blaine lets out one quick bark of a laugh and then goes quiet. He's tracing his fingers over the stripes on the sofa's upholstery, his brow straight and serious, his dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. “Worth it though. At least for me.”
The meaning of his statement, of his look, is not lost on Kurt. He stretches his hand across and places it over Blaine's wandering one. He gives Blaine's hand a little squeeze. “Hot kisses are totally worth a dunk in the lake. And a few mouthfuls of lake water. And whatever nastiness might be lurking within its depths.”
Blaine turns over his hand and laces their fingers together. His hands are soft, strong, familiar. Kurt has to force his eyes away, to stop himself from watching as his own thumb traces a path up and down the side of Blaine's and Blaine begins to copy the movement, a battle of caresses.
“Should we go out and watch the madness? We might get some good blackmail videos,” Kurt says. His voice comes out timid, breathy. He's always hated when his voice sounds that way.
Blaine tears his eyes away from their hands to look up at Kurt. “Yeah. Sure. We can... if you want.”
Kurt is loath to pull his hand away, but he needs to go find his phone in order to film any of the tubing shenanigans.
He can just make out Puck's bald head behind the wheel of the speed boat in the distance, zooming around the lake. On the tube trailing after it, bumping and pitching and yelling, is Finn.
“Oh my God, those idiots,” Kurt mutters while Blaine laughs next to him, leaning forward with his hands on his knees.
Mercedes and Tina are hollering from the shore, jumping and laughing and cheering. Sam is sitting on the dock next to Quinn, awaiting their turns on the inner tube of death.
Finn lets out a particularly loud grunting yell, the inner tube teetering precariously back and forth. Puck picks up speed and the tube hits a pocket of water, and Finn is down, flipped over and out as Rachel gasps and covers her eyes and lays her head up against Mike's shoulder, which is bopping her up and down as he cracks up laughing. Quinn hollers at Puck to stop and double back. It takes a few seconds for Finn to reappear and everyone cheers as Puck hauls him up into the speed boat and drives back in the direction of the dock.
“Yeah, okay, I've changed my mind,” Kurt says to Blaine, his heart only just leaving his throat. “I don't want to watch this after all. Call me if my CPR skills are required.” He pats Blaine on the shoulder and Blaine clasps his hand, keeping him from turning tail and heading back into the house.
“I'll come with you,” he says.
“You don't have to. You can stay and enjoy the idiots if you want.”
Blaine smiles and shakes his head. “I'd rather be with you.”
Kurt's heart swells and he looks away, embarrassed by his reddening cheeks. He never blushes with anything but anger these days. It's been a strange adjustment since he's been back in Blaine's presence.
They only get as far as the verandah and settle on the swing there.
They rock back and forth in silence, enjoying the light breeze that brings in the fragrant scent of the lilacs bushes that line the driveway. Kurt closes his eyes and breathes it in. It's peaceful. At least until he hears another loud roar of voices from down by the lake. He snaps his eyes open with a sigh to find Blaine watching him.
“Why did you laugh when I asked you if you were married?” he asks.
Kurt snorts a laugh. “Oh, well a comedic montage of my last several dates played in my head and I couldn't help myself. But seriously - I haven't been in a serious relationship for more than three years. And that one ended pretty messily, so...”
Blaine tilts his head to one side and turns, curling one leg up under him and continuing to propel the swing forward with his other foot. “What happened?”
“He cheated on me with my assistant. A brand new twist on a tired cliché!” Kurt adds in a bright voice. “One good thing did come out of it, though - a new assistant. And Lacey is so much better than Tara ever was.”
“He cheated on you with a woman?”
“Yep. Never saw that one coming. Got her pregnant, too. Guess she never saw it coming either.” Kurt grins and runs his fingers up the chain links that hold the swing to the ceiling of the verandah. He can find humour in the situation now. It hadn't been quite so funny at the time. “I heard he took off to Europe and left her with the kid. Stand up guy. I obviously have stellar taste in men,” he adds and chuckles, flattening his feet out on the floor and rocking them a little more quickly.
Blaine's expression is drooping, his entire face looks sad from his eyebrows and his big eyes to his turned down lips and chin. Kurt reaches across and takes his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I wasn't talking about you, dummy,” he says, trying to make light.
But Blaine stays silent. Kurt feels terrible and wishes he had never brought up that mess with Robert and Tara. He doesn't even give a damn about it any more. He lets his mind wander back over the past few years and finds he doesn't really give a damn about a lot of things. He takes another deep breath, the scent of the lilacs soothing.
“Rachel used to accuse me of comparing every guy I ever dated to you,” he says, smiling out at the trees. The swing creaks under them, Kurt's feet thumping lightly heel to toe on the wood floor of the verandah.
“And did you?” Blaine asks, his voice quiet.
“Oh yes. Of course I did. There were Venn Diagrams and complicated flow charts - the whole shebang.”
He turns and grins at Blaine and he laughs, which was exactly what Kurt was aiming for. “And even with your small stature -”
“Hey! No short jokes!”
“- they still never managed to measure up.”
Blaine's eyes go soft and he places his elbow on the back of the swing and rests his head in his open palm. He just sits and watches Kurt for a moment, a small smile on his lips. He looks content, so Kurt does nothing to disturb him. It's not because he's enjoying the way Blaine is looking at him or anything. No. Nothing of the sort.
“I do that, too,” Blaine says finally. “It was always you and I just... They were never you.” He lets out a little huff of a laugh and shakes his head back and forth once, making the swing bounce around.
“So you never considered getting hitched either?”
“Nah. I've only had one what I considered to be serious relationship. Well, besides you and me... But, um...” Blaine clears his throat. He looks embarrassed, as if Kurt is going to refute his belief that their relationship had been serious. “Well, he and I, we were together for nearly three years and I never once considered it.”
“What happened?”
“Um... well, we were having problems already and it just sort of culminated and... um...” Blaine's face is flushed. He turns his head to hide it in the palm of his hand for a second. When he turns back he won't quite meet Kurt's eye. “God, this is so...”
“You aren't under any obligation to tell me, you know. Not that I don't want to know, because I have to admit that my curiosity is extremely piqued, what with your cheeks blazing a frightening shade of fuchsia and all...”
Blaine huffs a laugh and hides his face in his hand again for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Okay, um... well, I'd had quite a lot to drink, you have to understand, and I... I called him you.”
Kurt didn't know what it was he had expected, but it certainly wasn't that. His eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Oh God. We were, um... you know, and I said your name and... That was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.”
Kurt has the urge to giggle, but he stifles it. Blaine is already mortified enough. “I'm so sorry.”
“So not your fault,” Blaine says. He starts to laugh a little, so Kurt feels less guilt at joining in. “Well, maybe a little bit your fault,” Blaine adds as an afterthought. Kurt snorts and slaps him playfully on the thigh.
“When was this?” he asks.
“Not long enough ago not to be weird.”
Kurt laughs harder and Blaine gets even pinker. “It was just - I'd been thinking about you a lot. A lot of things crossing my path were reminding me of you, of us, and then I can remember, at the Christmas party we were attending that night they played Baby, It's Cold Outside and.... you were on my mind.”
“Oh, honey.” Kurt pats Blaine's leg again. But he can't stop himself from teasing. “Was it this past Christmas, Blaine?”
Blaine hangs his head. “No. The one before that.”
Kurt snorts a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. “It's okay, Blaine. You don't have to explain. Or be embarrassed. I think about you a lot, too. And that song... well, let's just say it's been banned from my holiday celebrations for a long time now.”
“Too many bad memories?” Blaine asks. His voice is quiet now.
Kurt shakes his head and smiles sadly at him. “Too many good ones.”
Blaine sucks in a breath, his eyes lowering to glance down at Kurt's mouth. They lean in at the same time. Their lips brush almost timidly at first, then more sure. Blaine sucks Kurt' s bottom lip into his mouth, then lets it go and slides his tongue out, licking across the top one. Kurt picks one of his feet up off the floor in order to lean in further, to get closer to Blaine's body, and wraps his arms around his neck, opening his mouth fully, his tongue twisting around Blaine's and pulling it into his mouth.
The swing creaks and sways under them.
Rachel corners him in their room after dinner, during which he and Blaine sat very close together at the dining room table and spoke quietly, barely remembering to eat. Kurt isn't one hundred percent sure of what is going on between them, but he knows that it's definitely something.
“Okay, I've kept my mouth shut long enough,” is her lead in. Kurt can't wait for her follow up.
“And that is truly a marvel; I should know. It must have been very difficult for you.” She slaps him on the arm and crawls up on their bed, tucking her legs up under her.
“Out with it, you. I would tell you everything if it was me.”
“Yes. In vivid detail. And I would be duly traumatized.”
“Kuurt.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don't know, Rachel! There have been some kisses and holding hands and talking. I don't know what you want me to tell you!”
“Is he your boyfriend? Are you gonna have babies and get married and buy a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence? And even more importantly...” She pauses dramatically. “...are you going to sex him up all night long?”
Kurt tosses a random article of clothing at her that he finds hanging over the back of the desk chair and she cackles and sticks out her tongue.
“I told you: I have no idea. I'm just going with the flow at the moment. But I - well, I don't want to get my hopes up, okay? If there is any advancement in that direction you'll be the first to know, all right? Well, third. After myself, and of course Blaine.”
“Blaine!” Rachel giggles and throws herself backwards on the bed and kicks her feet into the air. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” she sing-songs. “You guys are soul mates and you're going to sex him up all night long.”
Kurt looks for something more substantial to throw at her. “No one is sexing anybody up all night long, okay? God, I swear you are fifteen years old still.”
She giggles some more while Kurt gets out his laptop and checks his e-mail. There are messages from his underlings at work, but nothing serious. Not that they aren't trying to make the issues out to be much more of a big deal than they are, but he's used to that. He starts to reply to the most recent one when he feels Rachel's hand on his forearm.
“Kurt? I know you're trying not to get your hopes up. I know you're worried about being hurt again. But... be open to it, okay? To love. I worry about you sometimes. I know it's been hard, but, well, you're worth it. And he's special. I'll never think anyone completely deserves you, but he comes closest.”
“Rachel -”
“I mean it. Don't sit behind your walls sharpening your tongue, poised and ready for the inevitable battle. I know it's instinctive for you, but... Just try, okay?”
Kurt shuts his laptop, his half written e-mail still open on the screen, and swivels the chair so that he's facing her. “So you don't think it's too soon? Too sudden? It's been so long, I -”
“No, Kurt. I think it's the best idea you've had in years. If the tables were turned and it was me and Finn? Well, we were a train wreck. Right from the start. But not you two. You were always perfect up until you weren't. If you can mend that small fracture and get back to perfect, why wouldn't you? You deserve it. You deserve to be happy.”
“But what if this is just a fling for him, or...?”
Rachel sighs and crouches down, placing both of her hands on Kurt's knees. “I've seen the way that boy looks at you. He's in deep, Kurt. In fact, I'm pretty sure he never resurfaced after the last plunge.”
She pats his knees and gets up, pecking him on the top of the head before heading for the door. “Be careful,” she says. “Just not too careful. That's all I'm saying.” And she's gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
They spend the evening reminiscing about Brittany. It's just the kind of memorial Kurt is sure is exactly what she would have wanted. They tell stories, sing songs, Kurt even pulls out his old yearbook so that everyone can flip through. It's like a storm cloud has passed over them all and they can breathe a sigh of relief. Now it feels okay for the laughs to outnumber the tears. Even Santana seems all right, but Kurt gives her an extra firm hug just in case. She nods at him and winks and pecks him on the cheek.
He doesn't spend every second of the evening near Blaine, but he doesn't shy away from him either. Rachel gives him several pleased looking smiles whenever she sees the two of them together, which Kurt sincerely hopes that Blaine doesn't catch. She's like an overbearing mother proud of her kid for going on his first date. Kurt rolls his eyes at her when she gives him a thumbs up. She ups the ante and starts making rather sexual looking gestures and Kurt clears his throat and asks Blaine if he'd like to step outside with him to get some air. It's been drizzling a bit, and the humidity in the house is becoming unbearable. Quinn grins at them from where she is cracking open a window as they pass her on their way to the front door.
“What was Rachel doing?” Blaine asks. He looks confused, so Kurt is pretty sure he didn't catch her gestures. Or at least he didn't understand them.
“Being Rachel,” Kurt says, his mouth stretching wide in a yawn.
Blaine lets it go. “Tired?”
“Yeah. Too many late nights I guess. And Rachel hogs the entire bed. Hard to believe it possible, what with the size of her.”
Blaine hums his agreement and looks around. It's no longer raining but there is a constant drip of rainwater falling from the roof and bouncing against the steps. He sticks a hand out, palm up, and catches some of it as Kurt watches him.
“You could stay with me. I mean, if you want. And if Rachel will be okay...” Blaine stumbles over his words a little and wipes his wet palm on his sweater.
Kurt smirks at him. “Are you asking me to sleep with you, Blaine?”
“No. I mean, yes. But not like... we don't have to do anything. I mean, unless you want to?” His eyebrows are arched high on his forehead, questioning.
Kurt has the urge to giggle. He crooks his finger at Blaine instead. “Come here, you,” he says. Blaine laughs a little nervously and takes two steps forward. Kurt pulls him against his body by two fistfuls of his sweater and places an open mouthed kiss on his lips. He pulls back just slightly and pecks Blaine on the nose. “Which room are you staying in? Do we need to kick anybody out?”
Blaine lets out a laugh and presses forward, chasing Kurt's lips. “No. I, um... I'm in a tent actually. I brought a tent. Thought it would be nice to sleep outside...”
“You are asking me to sleep in a tent with you? On the ground. Me?”
Blaine runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip, holding back a smile. “I have a camp bed. I'm not that hardcore.”
Kurt huffs. “Me?”
“Yep.” Blaine's eyes are shining with amusement now. He knows Kurt is teasing. Very few people have ever been able to read him so well and most always take him far more seriously than they ought to.
Kurt makes a growling noise deep in his throat. “If it was anyone else but you I would... well, I would tell them to kindly go fuck themselves.”
“But... since it's me?” Blaine gives him a hopeful smile, leaning back to look up coyly into his eyes. He even flutters his ridiculously long eyelashes at him, the bastard.
Kurt growls again and pulls away. “Ugh! I'll go get changed.”
He hears Blaine let out a triumphant yay! and the thud of his feet hitting the deck as though he jumped up in celebration. Kurt grins all the way to his room.
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