Listen

An incessant banging at the door diverted Kurt's attention from The Notebook. He seriously debated whether he actually wanted to get up and answer the caller. He hadn't showered in two days and his sweatpants had holes in them. He knew the person on the other side couldn't have been Rachel—he had seen her take her key before she left to drown her sorrows in cheap college booze and piano karaoke—or Brody—after the third night of him showing up and singing apologetic ballads outside their door, Kurt warned the upperclassman never to come back if he valued both of his testicles.

The knocking wouldn't stop, so with a put-upon sigh Kurt set his half-eaten (or, really, three-quarter-eaten) carton of Rocky Road on the makeshift table and heaved himself out of his armchair. He shuffled to the door and pulled it open half-heartedly. "What do you—Blaine?!"

The high school senior pushed his way into the apartment, his gelled hair frayed and wild. His clothes were severely rumpled. "Look, I know you don't want to see me, and you don't care what I have to say—"

"Damn right I don't!"

"WELL TOO BAD!" Kurt's eyes widened in astonishment—he hadn't heard Blaine raise his voice since Cooper's master class—and he fell silent. Blaine deflated a little. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm not really mad at you. How could I be? What happened between us was my fault.

"But I am sick and tired of not being listened to. You won't listen, Finn wouldn't listen, the New Directions won't listen—I don't think they even care. Well I'm tired of it. I have something to say and someone has to hear it."

"...So say it."

Blaine bit his lip, like he was hurdling that final internal obstacle. Then he exploded. "I fucked up! I fucked up. I let another guy convince me that waiting for you was a bad idea, that I deserved better than you—god, that just proves how stupid I am, like there's anything on this planet better than you—and I let him take advantage of me. I was lonely, and I was scared, and I was stupid, and I'm never going to be able to take that back."

"...Scared?"

"Scared? Try petrified. You're conquering New York, Kurt, already one of the most valuable employees at the Vogue website. You had an apartment and a life and an entire world that I couldn't be a part of. Why would you want to hang onto an idiotic, generic high school boyfriend when there is a city full of beautiful, interesting, worthy men at your feet?

"I just wanted the pain to stop, Kurt. I just wanted to make it not hurt anymore. So I did it. I let some asshole I barely knew climb on top of me and—we didn't do what you and I did, Kurt. After we...got off, he tried to...but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't. Because he wasn't you. His eyes were the dullest brown I've ever seen, and looking into them made me want to vomit.

"I came to New York and I told you because you deserved to know how much I don't deserve you, how unbearably too good you are for me. I had to let you go, because you needed to be free of my...god, there isn't a word to describe how utterly awful I am.

"I am weak, Kurt. Weak. I know how to be strong on stage and in song, but in real life, I am nothing. I tried to be strong for you, to be what you needed when life was hell for you, and then I wasn't enough anymore. And now I'm worthless. All I ever wanted was for someone—for you to want me as I am. I just wanted to be good enough for once. I wanted to matter.

"And now I have no one. My parents don't care. Cooper's in LA. The New Directions are still yours, and the Warblers will never be mine again. God, the Warblers. You know I almost went back to them, Kurt? I almost left McKinley and went back to the people who nearly blinded me because I couldn't take facing the people who think of me as 'the jerk who broke our friend's heart' day in and day out. But I didn't go back there, and there were a number of reasons why, but the main one...the main reason was that I couldn't be in that room, the room in which I first sang to you, the room in which I first realized I love you, the room in which I first kissed you, without absolutely losing it.

"And I've lost enough lately.

"Now I didn't come back here to—to chastise you or guilt you or earn your forgiveness or anything. I know you still hate me, and that nothing I do or say now will make up for what I did with him. I'm not trying to make excuses or rationalize what I did, because it was irrational and completely inexcusable. But I just wanted someone to listen, and there were things I needed you to know, so...I guess...thanks for listening."

Throughout most of his word vomit, Blaine's body was tense and strong, but the moment he finished, he curled in on himself. The shiny eyes that had been locked on Kurt's increasingly teary ones fell to the floor, and the winded boy slinked to the door, head bowed low. Just before he closed it behind him, a whisper stopped him.

"I don't hate you." Blaine froze, unwilling to look back in case he imagined the beautiful voice he fell in love with all those months ago. "I don't forgive you, not...not quite yet, and maybe I never will but...but I don't hate you. I still love you. I think I always will. And I'm sorry that no one will listen to you. You deserve to be heard.

"And Blaine? You matter. If nothing else, remember that you matter." A tear rolled down Kurt's cheek as Blaine's shoulders shook with a silent sob.

"Thank you," he breathed.

And then he was gone.


So this was a 4x05 (was that last Thursday? fuck if I remember) reaction fic that I wrote on Thursday. I went to type it up Friday night but Microsoft Word was having quite literal seizures, so I gave up. And then I forgot. So it's late. Sorry Alison.

I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'RE ON TUMBLR BUT THIS SKATING RIOT IS FUCKING KILLING ME AND THE SPOILERS FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OKAY I JUST CAN'T.

God I forgot how in love with Blaine Warbler I am.

If you're waiting for me to update ASKS, I am so sorry. I know it's been over two months. I'm just hitting a total brick wall. I'm crazy busy right now, and I just don't have the creative juices for it. I promise to try harder during T-giving break.

Peace lovers.

PERSONAL TUMBLR: klainebowsandquirrelmort
FANFICTION TUMBLR: kqwriting
FANFICTION BANK TUMBLR: klaineficneeds