Kurt sighed in relief as he opened his front door and dropped his keys into the bowl on the table. He couldn't wait to for this day to be over. First he had been late for work, thanks to the joys of using public transportation. Then he was yelled at by the editor of the fashion magazine where he worked for something entirely out of his control. And to top it all off, on his walk back to the apartment from the subway stop, he heard enough homophobic slurs to rival the McKinley hockey team. Half of the reason he wanted to move to New York City was to escape all of the bullying he had endured in high school for being gay.
As he unzipped his boots and hung up his coat and scarf, he remembered the handful of times he had encountered such prejudice, even in the big city. It seemed to hurt more now, maybe because he had gotten out of the habit of bracing himself for name-calling or locker shoving in the five years since he'd been away from Ohio. Obviously it was much better here than it had been in Lima, but apparently there were ignorant idiots everywhere.
He walked into the kitchen, wondering where his boyfriend was; Blaine was in law school and his classes usually ended well before Kurt arrived home from work, but today he was nowhere in sight. Kurt found himself slightly annoyed that nothing was even pulled out for dinner; the last thing he wanted to do right now was cook something, or even wait for takeout to be delivered. He got himself a glass of water and sunk down onto a stool, finding himself more and more frustrated with how his day had gone. Now some of that anger was being redirected to his boyfriend for not having dinner ready when he got home; he should have at least been waiting with open arms to listen to Kurt complain and then subsequently cheer him up afterwards. He knew that wasn't fair though; Blaine didn't know anything about his bad day, other than he had been running late that morning.
Kurt sighed again, finally noticing that soft music was floating out from their bedroom, where the door was open just a crack. He quietly padded down the hallway and peeked into the small room. Blaine was sitting at his keyboard, which was set up next to their bed. He obviously hadn't noticed that Kurt had even arrived home, as he continued playing and started to sing the next verse of some song.
Too many cars
Drinking too much gasoline
There's no good news
On my, my tv screen
There's a hole up in the sky,
So c'mon baby dive,
And live life at the bottom of the sea
Kurt found a smile forming on his face, in spite of his annoyance, which seemed to be melting away with every word his boyfriend sang.
Tried my best to someone else and someone else's
I've tried my best to be someone else instead,
Tried my best to be someone else, someone else's
Now there's nothing left of me
If the morning light ever calls you backwards
If the surfaces begs you on
If the morning light ever calls you backwards
Don't be gone too long
Don't leave me here alone
Blaine sang this last part with such emotion that Kurt felt tears glistening in his eyes. It was not fair of him to be mad at Blaine just because some jerks called him a fairy on the way home; most days he didn't know what he would do without Blaine. Ever since high school, his boyfriend had given him courage and helped him through everything, from the endless bullying and his dad's second heart attack, to his courses at NYU and now his horrible boss at work. Sometimes it was just so tiring, always fighting tooth and nail to achieve his goals, but everything would be fine as long as Blaine was waiting for him back at their apartment.
And he knew it worked both ways, as he had helped Blaine with his less-than-accepting father, his transfer to McKinley, and the difficult decision to attend law school. Kurt pushed the door open a little wider, suddenly glad that he had let Blaine bring that keyboard to the apartment, even though it hardly fit in the room. Playing music was Blaine's stress relief, and apparently listening to it was Kurt's.
Come on down,
To the bottom of the sea,
Come on down, here
Yeah there's room right next to me
I'm tired of getting even
Let's get odd, odd baby
And live life at the bottom of the sea
Tried my best to someone else, someone else's
I've tried my best to be someone else instead,
Tried my best to be someone else, someone else's
Now there's nothing left
I've got nothing left
But me
As he sang the last note, Kurt finally opened the door and Blaine looked up at him, startled to see him standing in the doorway. Kurt just smiled and walked towards his boyfriend, who was still sitting on the chair in front of the keyboard.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were home," Blaine explained, as he reached out his hand to grab his boyfriend's. "How was your day?"
"I love you," Kurt replied, leaning down to kiss the other man.
"I love you, too," answered Blaine. Before he could say anything else, Kurt had climbed over the chair and settled himself into Blaine's lap.
"Now play me that song again," demanded Kurt softly, as he tucked his head into the side of Blaine's neck.
To Blaine's credit, he didn't comment at all on the difficulty of that position for playing the keyboard; instead he smiled, kissed Kurt's head, and started the song again, this time singing the words right into his boyfriend's ear.