Brick by Brick 3/8+Epilogue
Title: Brick By Brick ( LJ I FF.net I S&C)
Author: bowtiedarling (Tumblr | LJ)
Artist: voices-echo (Tumblr)
Word Count: ~25,279
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Mike Chang, Rachel Berry, OC
Warnings: Language
Summary: After a decade together, Kurt and Blaine are more distant than they’ve ever been. Between late nights at the office and weekends working, Kurt is never home and Blaine is at his wit’s end. As everything comes to a head, Blaine will take one last shot at saving their relationship.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. Or the show. God, I wish I did, but I don’t.
Author’s Notes: I want to thank my amazing betas, twobirdsonesong and voices-echo. Voices-echo was also my artist for this BBB and did half the artwork for it as well as a playlist. This story would not have gotten written if it wasn’t for those two pushing me to keep going and forcing me to rewrite half of it to make it better. You two are phenomenal! This story was inspired by the song ‘Brick by Brick’, sung by Train and I suggest you go check it out here. Also, I don’t write long stories that don’t end happily. Keep that in mind please. The artwork includes some photos of locations to relevant places in the story so make sure to check that out too. Enjoy!
Artwork
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Epilogue
*~*~*
Blaine threw a fifty at the cab driver before he shut the door and walked back to his luggage at the curb. He hoisted his messenger bag over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of the suitcase before he walked across the sidewalk and entered the large hotel. He hadn't been here in years, not since the apartment debacle of 2016 where he and Kurt had found themselves in short-term housing after a miscommunication with their landlord. It made him wish that they still had those small, menial problems and not the one they were currently going through.
Blaine walked up to the counter and checked-in; he’d already called an hour before to book a room for three weeks. He picked up the plastic key card that the hotel attendant slid across the granite counter and dragged his suitcase behind him through the lobby toward the back of the building to the elevator. The arrow chimed and he stepped toward the door. An older couple slowly walked out and he moved to the side to allow them space as he maneuvered his bags behind him. He pressed the button for the twenty-first floor and then slumped against the elevator wall and rested his hands along the rail. He was so tired and couldn't wait to crawl into a comforting, soft space without being disturbed at all hours of the night. Every fiber of his being felt like it was running on small sparks that ignited small bits of energy before they burned out. Everything he used to love now seemed like a grueling chore that he couldn’t get away from.
The doors opened and he stepped onto the floor, turned right, and started to scan the door numbers for 308. He quickly found the room and he slid his key card into the door and blinked in relief as the green light lit up. He pushed the heavy door open and dragged his luggage in behind him and shut the door before he stepped into the room to take in his surroundings.
Blaine had forgotten just how small hotel rooms were in New York City, but he was pleasantly surprised by this one. Straight into the room and slightly to the left was the large king size bed; a rich, dark wooden frame holding fluffy white linens and lime green overstuffed pillows placed in front of the headboard. On one side was a decent sized nightstand holding a lamp and a phone. On the other side of the bed was a large bay window overlooking a gorgeous maple tree and the sight warmed his heart; it reminded him of where he grew up.
He glanced to his left and saw a large desk and chair and he placed his messenger bag on top of it. The soft, worn leather bag collapsed in on itself and shrunk down to the table. The bag must have been close to twelve-years old now, but he couldn’t bear to get rid of it. He saw a large flat screen television mounted on the wall just past the desk and an entrance past that to what he assumed was the closet and bathroom. He lugged his two larger bags over to the bed and hurled them up onto one side of the bed before crawling over to the other bed and falling face down into the fabric. He took a breath and rolled over; he stared up at the ceiling and willed himself to stand. He had too much to do tomorrow to just lay there and mope, and he began to make a list as he stood up to get ready for bed. He had materials for his class to pick up at the printer and lunch with Mike to move-
"Oh damn it." Blaine groaned and fished through his jacket pockets before finally returning with his phone. He fired off a quick text to Mike before he headed to the bathroom.
Can we move lunch to the cafe by the theater tomorrow? Busy day and the diner is too far from where I'm staying. -Blaine
Sure no problem. Where are you? -Mike
Hotel Alexander. Alone. Explain tomorrow. -Blaine
WHAT? Okay. Call if you need anything. -Mike
Blaine walked out twenty minutes later freshly showered and ready for bed. He glanced at Mike's last message before he threw his phone in the charger and set the alarm clock on the nightstand. He clicked off the bedside lamp and crawled in under the covers too tired for any emotion but exhaustion. He turned toward the opposite side of the bed and reached his hand out but stopped short; he forgot it was empty. He pulled his hand back and flopped onto his back while he ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t slept alone in years and he hated it; it felt wrong for Kurt not to be beside him. As sleep crept over him, he hoped they would be able to fix this; he didn't like being alone.
*~*
The dark grey sky loomed overhead as Blaine walked down the steps of the hotel and turned onto the busy sidewalk. He spotted a coffee shop on the far corner across the way and hurriedly crossed the street. He hadn’t slept well the night before and anything with copious amounts of caffeine was needed immediately. He pulled the door open and was immediately engulfed in the delicious aroma of coffee that permeated the air. He took a deep breath and smiled and moved forward to stand in line. Coffee was one item that he would always splurge on and appreciate the art of. A good cup of coffee could make or break a day; he needed all the amazing coffee he could find.
Blaine quickly ordered a latté, not in his usual order, but he decided he wanted to try something new, something different, to go along with his life. He slid his cash across the counter and told the cashier to keep the change and walked to the end of the bar to wait for the drink. He glanced outside through the large, open window at the front of the store and scowled. It was starting to rain, rather large drops, and of course he had no umbrella. He sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling; it appeared that even Mother Nature was mocking his attitude today. He glanced down at the jacket he was wearing and was thankful when he remembered that it had a hood attached. Thank God something was on his side today.
“Large latté with extra foam for Blaine!”
He heard the barista call his name and snatched the cup up as he said thank you. He threw the hood on his jacket over his head and stepped out into the rain, which was thankfully not yet that bad. He walked across the intersection with the other pedestrians and blended into the group as they all scurried down the steps out of the rain and into the subway station. Blaine stopped at one of the line maps posted on the wall and quickly figured out which lines he would need to get to the workshop building from the unfamiliar surroundings. He walked over to the platform and waited among the commuters and businessmen and women of New York City. He felt a faint buzz in his pocket and knowing it was his phone decided to wait until he was on the train to check it.
Blaine soon found his train approaching and as the doors opened he rushed in with the other passengers and found a small spot to stand in at the back corner of the car. He gulped a long sip of his latté before the train moved, not wanting to wear the hot drink on his clothing, and felt around his jacket pocket for the phone. He pulled it out and unlocked the screen before seeing a text message and voicemail from Kurt. He took a deep breath and steeled himself before opening it.
Where are you? Got your note, don’t understand it. I’ll be home around 7pm. Talk then. -K
Blaine groaned quietly and shook his head as he closed his eyes. He had thought that his note had been pretty clear in regards to his feelings. What was there to not understand? He shoved the phone back into his pocket and decided the voicemail could wait until he felt like not punching a wall. He should have known this was the response he would get; Kurt had been oblivious to everything in the world for the past few months except for when it came to whatever new collection he was working on. Why would this have been any different? Blaine leaned back against the small wall behind him and tried to calm down as the train took him closer to his destination. He was glad he had lunch with Mike today. He needed his best friend to guide him in some sort of direction. Because he was lost.
*~*
Blaine took a sip of his hot coffee and waved Mike over to the table when he saw the tall silhouette walk through the door. Thankfully, his morning had gone well enough, without any other interruptions. He had listened to the voicemail message that was left and promptly deleted it when the annoyance in Kurt’s voice got to be too much for him. He threw himself into work that morning - scheduling classes and preparing materials, and was grateful that the time moved quickly for him.
He smiled at Mike as the tall Asian took the seat across from him at the small two-person table by the back of the cafe. “Hey, how was your morning?”
Mike shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from the glass of water in front of him. “It was good, no weird stuff this morning. I had a new student show up who blew everyone out of the water. She has an attitude problem though.”
“Ah yes, Kelsie.” Mike tilted his head to the side in confusion and Blaine chuckled. “Santana mentioned something about her and ‘going all Lima Heights on her ass.’”
"Yeah, well, sadly I might actually need her to do just that." Blaine and Mike smiled at the waiter that approached them and took their order before Mike sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. "So, care to tell me why I'm sitting here at a cafe getting a salad instead of my usual once a week cheeseburger?"
Blaine bit his lip and started to play with the rings of water from the glasses on the table, swirling his fingers through them. "I kind of moved out. I packed two bags, left Kurt a note, and checked into a weekly-stay hotel."
Mike's features softened as he leaned forward to rest his crossed arms on the tabletop. "I'm sorry, Blaine. Why didn't you call? You know you can crash with me and Tina."
Blaine shrugged. "You two have your own life you don't need me disturbing it. As to what happened, a lot of things have just mixed into one big problem and I’m not sure why. Kurt has been working insane hours for two, almost three months now. We rarely talk about much now, no matter how hard I try. He just complains about his job and snaps at almost anything I say. I tried talking to him about it but he would just get defensive and mean and walk out. I just didn't know what to do anymore."
Mike listened attentively and Blaine was grateful that he had a best friend that knew when to pry and when to let things go. "I'm sorry. That doesn't sound like Kurt at all. So that's what you meant about staying at a hotel?"
Blaine nodded and took a sip of his coffee and wrapped both hands around the warm mug. "I didn't know what else to do but I couldn't take anymore of it. He just won't listen and I thought maybe some grand gesture would help snap him out of it."
"No such luck?"
Blaine scoffed and rolled his eyes. "He texted me and left me a voicemail asking where I was, that he knew I didn't come home last night. He said that he got the note, he didn't understand it, and would see me tonight to 'discuss' it. Honestly, I just..." Blaine trailed off as his thoughts and words failed him.
"I'm so sorry. I wonder why he's acting that way? He's never been like that before."
Blaine nodded and thanked the waiter as he placed the food in front of the two men. "I know, and I tried talking to him on a number of occasions but he just won't say anything. I just don't know what to think anymore. I love him, more than anything, but I shouldn't feel like this all the time and I shouldn't dread going home at night." Blaine felt his eyes watering and quickly tried to suppress the feeling. "I'm sorry for being so down and pitiful today. I don't want to monopolize the whole lunch."
Mike shrugged and shoveled a forkful of salad into his mouth. "it's okay you need to talk. You call us if you need anything, you hear me? I'm not kidding."
Blaine nodded and took a bite of his own food. "So, what's been going on since last week? I know we work at the same place but I feel like I never see you."
Blaine tried to listen intently to Mike's tales of his dance students and Tina's new show but his mind kept drifting toward Kurt and whether or not he would fight for them or let their ten-year relationship dissolve into memories.
*~*
Blaine threw the door open to his room at eight o'clock that night, having stayed late to help a few students on their music project. He felt dead on his feet from running around the studio and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. He made a mental note to not schedule classes next session on opposite ends of the building with minimal break time in between. Now knew why Mike complained so much about classrooms and scheduling. He dragged himself to the small table by the window with Chinese takeout in tow and flopped down into the chair. He opened the large container and brought a piece of orange chicken to his mouth just as a loud knock rang throughout the room. He placed the food down on the table and quickly hurried to the door not wanting to disturb anyone on his floor. He glanced through the peephole and his posture stiffened reflexively, taking a breath for composure as he swung the door open. "Uh, hi."
Kurt stood on the other side of the doorway, small messenger bag in tow behind him and an unreadable expression on his face. "Hello. May I come in?"
Blaine paused for a second then slowly nodded and moved aside as Kurt walked into the space and took in the surroundings. Blaine watched as he wandered around the small area and finally decided on the chair at the table across from where he had been eating his late dinner. "What are you doing here? How did you know where I was staying?"
Kurt rolled his eyes at the question and stole a piece of chicken from the container. "Mike told me. I called him asking where you were; I may have forced it out of him."
Blaine nodded and bit his lip. He wasn't mad at Mike for telling him; he just wished he'd had some warning. He’d had a mental list of everything he wanted to say and wished he’d written it down. His mind was suddenly blank as Kurt stood in front of him with his arms crossed and every previous thought flew out of his head. "It's fine. What are you doing here though?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow at Blaine as if the answer was obvious. "Well, I'm here to take you home of course. This is getting a bit ridiculous."
Blaine shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths as he silently reminded himself to stay calm. "Kurt, did you not read the note I sent? I can't just come home."
"Of course you can." Kurt shifted his weight in the chair and crossed his legs. "This whole thing is ridiculous. I'm busy at work; it isn't the end of the world. Come home and we'll work on whatever it is you feel needs to change."
Blaine gaped at Kurt as the words left his mouth. "I'm sorry, have we been living in the same house? It sounds like you've been living somewhere else, because where I've been there have been harsh, rude comments, scathing replies to questions, and just all-around unpleasant attitudes."
Kurt rolled his eyes and stood up from the table. "God, Blaine, stop being so dramatic. We hit a rough patch, so does everyone else in the world. Stop being so ridiculous and let's go home."
"It's not a rough patch, Kurt, it's a rough acreage. I'm not coming home until I figure out what I want from us. Maybe you should do the same."
Kurt huffed and gathered his jacket and bag before walking toward the door. "Fine, Blaine, have it your way."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means I'm going home. Call me when you want to come back."
The door to the room slammed shut and Blaine winced at the noise that echoed throughout the room. He sighed and walked over to the head of the bed and sat down and dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling before squeezing his eyes shut. He had no idea where the Kurt was that he had fallen in love with so many years ago. Something had changed in the past few months and the other man didn't seem to want to acknowledge it. Now he had to figure out where to go from there.
He eyed the pillow next to him and quickly grabbed it, flinging it across the room at the empty wall. He remembered the woman at the front desk saying something about the second floor and a gym with a heavyweight bag, a rarity in today's buildings. He hurried to the small dresser and pulled out an old Dalton t-shirt and sweats and quickly through them on. He needed to get some of his anger out and the gym seemed like the best place to do it.