So this is a short story based off of foraworldundeserving's Kiss ch. 68 "Karofsky." (If you don't know what Kiss is, it's a collection of oneshots based on ways Kurt and Blaine could've had their first kiss). Highly recommend you check the story out; it's amazing!
This fic takes place after the events in chapter 68. If you haven't read it yet, you should or else this won't make a lick of sense.
Title from the Tom Petty song.
It was suffocating, Long silences, short stares. No words, no smiles. Friday passed slowly, too slowly. Kurt had failed to show up Dalton and when Blaine tried to call Kurt's home –not really knowing what he would actually end up saying, just knowing that his heart told him to call- no one picked up. Blaine wouldn't have been surprised if someone took one look at the caller ID and completely ignored the call. He couldn't blame him or her.
Warblers practice was awkward. Sure Blaine was on key and his voice carried, but the leadership and conviction were gone. The upbeat, supposedly happy and peppy P!nk number sounded pitiful and melancholy. No one mentioned anything about it though. They let Blaine brood in peace. The lead singer was never one to share his emotions. The only time he ever did was in those dorm movie nights he'd spend with Kurt.
Saturday came with a half day after class had been disrupted for a whole afternoon earlier that month. A chemistry experiment had gone wrong, causing the building to be filled with fumes courtesy of the air vents. Blaine sat in his dorm room that afternoon, staring blankly at his hands, biting back silent tears. It was past dinnertime before he decided to return home for the rest of the weekend. He couldn't stand the guilt his school was bringing him.
Both his parents were asleep when Blaine arrived at his home. The housekeeper opened the door for him, asking if he wanted anything to east. Blaine politely declined and retreated to his room. Collapsing on his bed, his last coherent thought was that he wished he could use his parents' wealth to buy back all his mistakes.
When Blaine woke up the next day, no one was home. He grabbed a quick lunch and tried to complete the homework that was due the next day. Nothing came to him. The numbers floated off the page, the words ran across the paper. Time became an illusion. It wasn't until he heard a knock on his bedroom door did Blaine realized it was night and nearly 10 o'clock.
"Blaine?"
"Mom?" Blaine got up to open his door. "Hey mom," he greeted wearily.
Seeing her son's tired and depressed face made Mrs. Anderson frown. "Oh honey. What's wrong?"
"Just tired," Blaine said, shrugging it off and faking a yawn. His mother eyed him doubtfully.
"Well your father had an impromptu business meeting so he's on his way to New York. Won't be back until tomorrow evening." Blaine gave a shrug.
"Okay."
"You need to eat," Mrs. Anderson suddenly declared and called for Anna, the housekeeper, to fix dinner.
If Mrs. Anderson thought food would help lighten Blaine's mood, she was wrong. All throughout the meal, even through Anna's chattering –she'd joined the table at Mrs. Anderson's request- Blaine just picked at the food in his plate. Finally, when it was clear he didn't have an appetite at all, he excused himself with the excuse of homework.
Anna eyed him suspiciously as he darted out of the dining room. Mrs. Anderson gave an apologetic look and disappeared after him, leaving the housekeeper to clear the dishes away.
When Mrs. Anderson found her son, he was lying face down on his bed, fists clenched under his pillow. "Blaine?" Mrs. Anderson called out softly. Blaine ignored her. Slowly, she approached the bed, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "Blaine, what's wrong?" She heard him attempt to muffle a particularly loud sob. With a bit of effort, she managed to pull him up to a sitting position.
She sat next to him, her weight causing the mattress to sink a little. "Blaine," she repeated, this time with the "I'm-your-mom-tell-me-what's-wrong" tone.
This only caused Blaine to burst out in heavier tears as his mother wrapped her arms around him and soothed him. "It's all my fault," Blaine cried as Mrs. Anderson rocked him back and forth. "I screwed it all up; it's all my fault." Tears streamed unceasingly down Blaine's cheeks.
"Shhhh," Mrs. Anderson soothed. "What's your fault dear?"
"Kurt." The name came out in a strangled choke.
Kurt. She had heard that name before. The other show choir sent spy today; his name was Kurt. Kurt transferred to Dalton because of the bullies. Kurt invited me to his old high school's football game. I'm hanging out with Kurt today. Oh, Kurt just called –sorry. Kurt this, Kurt that. Kurt everything.
The most recent one was, Kurt and I are going to Rachel's party. And it was to Mrs. Anderson's knowledge that Rachel had asked Blaine out on a date –a date that Blaine had agreed to.
"What about Kurt?"
"He hates me." With that, Blaine dissolved into more tears. Slowly, Blaine began to tell of the recent events with Kurt. Their fight over Blaine's sexuality, the subsequent avoidance of each other, and the kiss in Kurt's dorm.
"It's all my fault," Blaine sobbed again. "I love Kurt. I'm in love with Kurt," he confessed brokenly, clinging to his mother. "He hates me now. He hates me!"
Mrs. Anderson was at a loss. As much as she hated to admit it, she had been a bit elated when Blaine told her about the date he had with Rachel. The subject of Blaine's sexuality wasn't exactly a dinner talk in the Anderson household. While both parents knew, they weren't exactly comfortable with it. It wasn't something they liked to dwell on. Now here Blaine was, crying his eyes out over a boy. A boy that, though frequently mentioned, Mrs. Anderson knew nothing about. Was this just some kind of high school heartbreak he would move on from, or was this really something that serious?
"He doesn't hate you," Mrs. Anderson coaxed.
"Yes he does," Blaine sniffled.
"Tell me about this Kurt honey." Blaine shook his head at his mother's request. "It'll make you fell better. Just let it all out."
"Well," Blaine started, "His eyes. Sometimes they look gray, then blue or green. It's called glasz. They shine when the sunlight hits just right on his face. His voice is like an angel. I mean it's high –he's a countertenor- but it's so beautiful and smooth. And even though he gets really bitchy when you piss him off, in the end you know he cares for you all the same. He tries to put other people first; he's strong, brave, courageous. He's…" Blaine paused to breathe, but ended up crying more.
Just then Anna knocked on the door and it cracked open slowly. "Mistress Anderson, I think there are trespassers." Mrs. Anderson raised an eyebrow. Well, it wouldn't be the first time, she thought to herself.
"Alright Anna. I'll go check." Then she turned to Blaine. "I'll be back okay? Or try to get some sleep. I can call school if you don't want to go tomorrow," she said and proceeded to the front door. Anna silently dismissed herself to the kitchen where she was cleaning.
Mrs. Anderson peeked out a side window where she saw several black-clad figures moving about as silently as they could. Teenagers, she thought. Even though there were a few figures that looked well built, their company suggested that they were no older or stronger than Blaine's age and build.
"Alright!" she hollered, opening the front door. "You've got five minutes to clear the lawn or I'll call authorities on grounds of curfew and trespassing!"
Only seconds later did a sheepish looking Wes emerge into the light of the front porch. "Uh, Mrs. Anderson?" he fidgeted. A few other boys emerged as well. "We're here for-"
A brown haired girl pushed her way past the boys. "Rachel Berry, ma'am. We're here for Blaine and I must say that New Directions would have been entirely capable of pulling this off and the annoying addition of the competition has only messed things up –as they always have."
"Quiet Berry," came another girl's voice. A "nice one Quinn" could be heard somewhere in the back.
Mrs. Anderson disregarded the girl and turned to Wes. "Wes, what are you doing here?"
"We came to check on Blaine," he confessed.
"Whilst clothed like thieves?"
When Wes didn't answer, another boy stepped in. Mrs. Anderson assumed it was a New Directions boy. "We came to beat up your son."
Mrs. Anderson looked shocked.
"Puck!" This time it was an Asian girl that spoke. "Don't be so blunt!" The girl turned to the woman. "Kurt's a friend of ours. We came to talk to Blaine."
"And then Jewish princess dragged the Warblers into it."
"They begged to join!" Rachel cried. "For your information Noah, they could be using this as an attempt to steal our setlist."
"Non-existent set list," someone corrected.
"Besides Rachel," the voice that had belonged to Quinn started. "If you hadn't asked Blaine out Kurt never would have cried his eyes out all day yesterday."
"Mom?"
Everyone peeked inside the house where Blaine was halfway down the steps, fully able to view the open front door and some of the figures outside. The sight that greeted the choir members was a shock. While Blaine normally looked impeccable in his Dalton uniform and tamed hair, this Blaine was disheveled. His curls had come loose and were tangled together. His blazer was unbuttoned, shirt untucked and tie loosened. His red eyes were evidence of the heavy crying he had endured in the past few hours. This Blaine was the definition of wasted. He wiped away a tear that had started to form in the corner of his right eye.
"Blaine?" Even Wes was taken aback by his friend's appearance.
"It's past curfew," Blaine said blankly. "Mom, just let them all stay here. They can crash on the couch or guest rooms. I'll be down in a minute."
With that, he disappeared into his room and Mrs. Anderson was left with no choice but to let the kids in. One by one the students took a seat on the numerous couches. Five minutes of awkward silence passed once Mrs. Anderson left them in the room. Blaine came down looking as impeccable as he was in public. "Do you guys need anything?" he asked.
Even that simple of a question didn't erase the tension in the room. If anything, it heightened it.
Finn was the first to speak. "Dude, how do you do that?" Blaine furrowed his brow. By now any indication of his past few hours' activity had been erased, save for the reddened eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean how do you look completely dead and come out five minutes later looking perfect?"
Silence filled the room again. Brittany slowly stood up and led Blaine to the couch she had been sitting on. Then she sat in his lap, a gesture that shocked the room. "You look like you need a hug," she announced innocently and proceeded to wrap her arms around Blaine's body, resting her head on his shoulder and patting his back. If there was a good time to cry, it would have been then. However, Blaine bit back the tears until Brittany said, "It's okay."
Gradually, the tears came loose. No words were shared, just looks. One by one the students congregated around Blaine, giving him reassuring looks and comforting pats. Whatever they had come here to talk about, they knew in that moment that words weren't needed anymore. The tears spilling down Blaine's cheeks were enough evidence of what he felt.
The group of them stayed that way that early Monday-midnight morning. They eventually all drifted off and when they awoke, they found a note where Blaine had been sitting. At Dalton, it read. The clock on the wall showed 8 o'clock in the morning. My mom will fix stuff with school.
When Blaine arrived at Dalton, there was one place he knew Kurt would be at this early in the morning. Dorm room. Sure enough, just as Blaine entered, Kurt was prepared to leave –presumably to the library for a bit of study time.
Kurt took one look at Blaine and gave a joking smile and shook his head. As he headed over to the small wardrobe on Blaine's side of the room, he said, "I leave for one weekend and you can't manage to dress yourself." He ended the statement with a dramatic side as he fished out the spare uniform in the wardrobe.
The words Finn had said to Blaine came flooding back. How do you do that?
Blaine must have spoken the words out loud because the next he knew, Kurt was eyeing him with a confused look. "What do you mean?"
The memory kept replaying in Blaine's head. Dude, how do you do that? What do you mean?
Blaine took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I mean, I hurt you Kurt. You don't turn up for school and you come back after the weekend all happy like nothing happened."
Kurt gave a non-committal shrug. "We're friends. Friends get into fights." He held out the uniform hung neatly on the hanger.
"Friends don't kiss each other," Blaine murmured as he took the uniform in his hands. A look of hurt flashed through Kurt's face. Nice Anderson, now you've made it worse. "What I mean is… Friends don't kiss each other, go home, cry to their mom about it and come back after a sleepless night because they realize that they're in love. And that the other friend deserves to know. And to ask for a second chance because he knows he's screwed this up, but he wants to make it right." By now Blaine was right in front of Kurt. "He loves you. He wants to be more than just friends."
A stray tear silently cascaded down Blaine's cheek. Instinctively, Kurt reached out to wipe it away with his thumb. He didn't pull away, hand caressing Blaine's face. Kurt bit his lip, gaze flickering from Blaine's eyes to his lips. "I'm going to kiss you now," Kurt whispered as he leaned in, words ghosting across Blaine's lips. Blaine was the one to close this distance in between.
Closure. That was the word Blaine thought of as their lips met. Closure melting into love. Kurt's hands held his face tightly and Blaine, dropping the uniform to the ground, slowly wound his arms around Kurt's waist. His heart was exploding with emotion, beating at a hundred miles per hour. He pulled Kurt in and together they toppled on top of Blaine's bed.
They continued for a few more seconds before Kurt pulled back. What Blaine saw took his breath away. Kurt was as flawless as always, but his eyes were filled with tears. Blaine could only guess he looked the same as he felt the burning behind his eyes.
Blaine reached up to stroke Kurt's cheek. "I love you." The whisper filled the room like the loudest words.
"I love you," Kurt returned, leaning down to capture Blaine's lips again.
It's no mystery to the Warblers when Blaine and Kurt walk hand in hand to lunch that day, having been missing-in-action for the first half of the day. It's no wonder to the New Directions girls when Kurt calls them all up on a conference call and gushes about everything. It's no surprise to Finn when Kurt comes home and gives him the biggest hug ever. Burt and Carole are staring skeptically at the scene, however.
And when Blaine goes home for family dinner that weekend, when his father asks how his week was, when his mother gives that warning glance, Blaine tells them with that large smile on his face that he has a boyfriend. When his father starts getting angry and yelling, when his mother starts trying to calm her husband down, Blaine won't even care.
Because he's found it… Love. Something so true and pure and for the first time in his life, after all the teasing and taunting, the bullies, the fights, he finally feels like he's flying.
I admit... I cried when I wrote this. I rarely cry writing my own fics since I know what's going to happen. Hope you enjoyed!
My favorite part is Brittany and Blaine. I ship both Brittana and Bartie. What really got me about Bartie was that Brittany didn't really care that Artie was in a wheelchair. She's able to see past a lot of things because she's so simple-minded. It gives her a lot more insight and that's what I love about her. So, I decided to play that in this fic.