AN: Angsty one-shot about Blaine at prom. Super duper late because who's reading prom!fic anymore, but Blaine wouldn't leave me alone. He has these puppy dog eyes, and you can't say no.
Title from this quote by John Green:
"When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out."
— John Green (Paper Towns)
"Bye, guys!" Kurt beams as he pulls away from his hug with Mercedes, directing his goodbye to both her and Sam, who looks awkward but happy next to them, holding Mercedes' wrap. He walks back to where Blaine's waiting for him, and lifts a hand to wave back at them, princess style. Don't think about it.
When he turns back to Blaine, Kurt's eyes have that a little bit of that glint in them, and it makes Blaine realize all over again that Kurt rarely does anything that's not a deliberate choice. Blaine fights off the sudden wave of nausea and smiles at Kurt, offering his arm.
"Why, thank you, good sir."
"Certainly, my good man." Man. Not- No, don't think about it.
The car ride is mostly silent, but every time Blaine stops at a red light, Kurt catches his eye and smiles at him. It reminds him of the week after their first kiss, when every time they passed each other in the halls or were in the same classroom or walked together to lunch or Warbler's practice, they'd share these little secret smiles. Now Blaine makes himself grin back at Kurt, every time, taking in his expression and mirroring it back to him.
Once they get to Kurt's house, Blaine remembers to tell him to stay where he is, so that he can open the door for his boyfriend on prom night. Blaine forgot to do it earlier, even though it's on his mental checklist of things to do to make this night perfect. Yeah, that worked out real -
Burt is in the living room watching TV with Finn, who it seems is still sulking over getting kicked out. Carole has a late shift, Blaine remembers Kurt telling him, which is probably why Finn doesn't seem to be in trouble for fighting yet.
"Hey, guys, how was it?" Burt asks, getting up from the couch. He raises an eyebrow at Kurt when he gets a good look at him, and Blaine realizes with a jolt that that's where Kurt gets it from. Blaine always has a hard time seeing Kurt anything but self-contained, and it's jarring to think that some parts of him have been integrated into what was already there, that he has not always been so immutably, flawlessly Kurt.
His thoughts are interrupted by Kurt's answer to a question he must have missed. "...voted me Prom Queen. Honestly, that was the best they could come up with?" Kurt's voice is only very slightly higher-pitched than normal, but Blaine catches it, and it seems Burt does too because after glancing at Blaine, who lifts a shoulder and tilts his head in a half-shrug, he drops the subject.
"Oh, crap, dude, does this mean Quinn lost? Man, she is going to kill me," Finn says, unwittingly breaking the tense silence before it has a chance to set in as he worriedly pulls out his phone. Blaine feels a detached sort of anger that this is what Kurt's brother is focused on right now, but mostly he just feels relieved because he catches Kurt rolling his eyes as Finn walks away muttering apologies to his girlfriend.
"So," Burt begins awkwardly, "I'm gonna go make sure Finn's alright, you know, with getting kicked out of prom and the Quinn thing and all that. It shouldn't take long." The last sentence is said with a warning look at Blaine, who doesn't get it at first and then wants to laugh because it is just ludicrous, this idea that he is expected to act like a teenage boy after- Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't-
"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt is saying. "You were..." he looks to be at a loss for words and God, the fact that Kurt fucking Hummel is at a loss for words makes Blaine want to sob- "Amazing," Kurt finishes, smiling.
"You're the amazing one," Blaine whispers back, silently grateful that the cliche response springs straight to his lips so he doesn't have to think. Kurt kisses him then, one hand holding Blaine's and other resting on his shoulder in a way that reminds Blaine of their slow dance earlier that evening. The nausea hits again. He breaks the kiss, shifting his eyes towards the stairs so Kurt thinks he's just trying not to get on Burt's bad side. He steps back and says, "Goodnight, Kurt," and Kurt just smiles that smile from the car at him and squeezes Blaine's hand once before letting go.
"Goodnight, Blaine." He doesn't wait for Blaine to leave, instead walking past him and up the stairs. It seems as though the Hummels are telepaths, because right then Burt returns from comforting Finn, since apparently he hasn't done so in the nearly three hours the two have been home alone together since Finn got kicked out.
"Blaine," Burt says, catching Blaine's shoulder like he can sense that Blaine was about to bolt. "I just wanted to ask you...I mean, he seems fine, but you were there, so you'd know better than I would. Is Kurt really okay with this whole Prom Queen thing?"
He should tell Burt, Blaine knows. Kurt is probably expecting him to, because God knows Kurt doesn't want to talk about it, but he doesn't want to lie to his dad, either. But Blaine can tell that if he starts talking about Kurt he will lose it and he cannot lose it. This is Kurt's pain and Kurt's victory, not Blaine's, and Blaine needs to keep it together right now in front of Kurt's dad. "I-" He pretends to catch sight of the clock on the living room wall over Burt's shoulder. "Oh, Mr. Hummel, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what time it was and I need to get going or I'll miss curfew." His curfew's not for another hour, and Burt probably knows that because he's here so often, but Blaine lets him assume that maybe Blaine's parents have changed the rules because of the occasion.
In any case, Blaine doesn't stick around to see his reaction. Blaine's car seems like a safe haven as he gets in and for a second, the panic subsides. He breathes easier now that he doesn't have to try and interact normally with other people. His mind is comfortingly blank; he doesn't even have to think about not thinking about it, and the silence is nice.
Then he stops at a red light and remembers Kurt's smile and Kurt's strength and terror floods his veins, more concentrated than before and Blaine feels like he can't breathe. He pulls over and slides to the passenger seat and maybe he's imagining it but it's still got a little bit of Kurt's warmth on it. He hauls open the door and pukes out onto the side of the road.
Then he is driving again, feeling like he will shatter any second but praying he can hold on. He calls up memories from drivers ed, takes on the route to his house like it's the first time he's driven it, making sure to put conscious thought into actions that have long since become automatic reflexes. It keeps him from thinking and it keeps him from crashing the car, and so he winds up at his house in one complete piece.
His parents are waiting up. How could they not, after what happened last time? Shut up shut up don't fucking think about it.
"Blaine? You're home early," his mother starts nervously, obviously seeing no signs of physical harm on Blaine but still holding her breath like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Oh. Most of Kurt's friends were leaving, and the glee club's performances were done, so we decided to call it a night."
"Oh. Well, did you boys have fun?"
Blaine knows what she's asking and he's gotten good at talking about things without having to talk about things, but it's an art form that requires some finesse and some time and Blaine feels like he's going to puke again, so he says, "Mom. Everything was fine. Nobody gave us any trouble. I'm fine. We're both fine." He puts a lot of effort in keeping his voice even as he tells the lie and his mother is a little shocked at his bluntness, but she believes him and he can practically see the burden of worry being lifted from her shoulders. His father merely nods as Blaine turns to go up to his room.
He makes sure his footsteps on the stairs are at a normal pace, and finally, finally makes it to his room. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and suddenly his eyes start to prickle. The start of a sob triggers his gag reflex and he is so, so glad he has an en suite bathroom as he leans over the toilet.
He isn't crying anymore as he brushes his teeth, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He changes out of his tux and gets into bed feeling like the world is off balance, like there's an edge somewhere, and it's only a matter of time before he falls over it. He wonders if maybe all the pretending has left him not knowing what's real anymore, if maybe he has forgotten how to feel now that he is finally allowing himself to do so. He needed to be strong for Kurt, he tells himself. He needed to not think about it and keep it together because Kurt didn't need to be worrying about him tonight. And Kurt would worry, because Kurt's the one who would give up prom because Blaine has some bad memories and Blaine's the one who used Kurt's bullying situation as some sort of bizarre vicarious second chance and got Kurt's first kiss stolen from him.
And there's the thing. Blaine had to be strong for Kurt, but not because Kurt needed him to be. No, he had to be strong because otherwise Kurt would know what a stupid fucking coward Blaine is. Because Blaine ran out of that gym dodging phantom blows from guys in blue and white letterman jackets, calling Kurt's name because he feared the same would happen to him, and sliding to the floor in relief when all he found was Kurt, humiliated and hurt and feeling awful. He sat there, offering senseless words of advice that Kurt didn't need because Kurt had already made up his mind to tell them all they could fuck themselves. And Kurt explained that it wasn't for him, no, it was because prom was about removing the lump from Blaine's throat. That even though Kurt was the one who got hurt, he would go back for Blaine. The guy who can't even feel the pride he should that his boyfriend showed all of the terrible people in that room that he didn't care what they thought, the guy who was too busy being a selfish fucking coward in that hallway to help Kurt, Kurt who didn't need him but should have had him anyway.
Blaine doesn't know when he falls asleep, but he knows that he wakes up sobbing, gasping for air, eyes swollen and dry, but only because he's physically run out of tears. For a minute he wonder if his mother will come check on him, and then remembers that she likely left for work hours ago, and what would he say to her anyway? Teenage Dream suddenly starts playing, and it's only when Blaine says "Hello?" into his cell phone that he realizes how sore his throat is. From sobbing? From screaming? He can't remember the nightmare, but he knew there was one from the tremors still in his body and the thundering of his heart that still won't let up.
"Blaine? Are you alright?" Kurt's voice makes his painful eyes sting even more because it is the morning after that disaster of a prom night and he is worried about Blaine.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?"
"You don't sound fine."
"I am," he tries to insist, but an inhale irritates his throat and he coughs and then he sniffs and his eyes water and suddenly his breath is making these little hitching noises.
Kurt doesn't say anything for a long time, but Blaine realizes there was a noise in the background on Kurt's end, a low hum of something, because it stops suddenly and then there's a faint jingling sound. "Open your door."
"What?"
"I'm outside your house. My dad gave me money to take you out to breakfast as sort of a post-prom sorry-people-suck treat. I wanted to surprise you."
Blaine walks downstairs and opens the door and there he is, Kurt, fierce and wonderful and with worry in his eyes that transforms from vague to sharp as he takes in Blaine's tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He is far, far, more than Blaine deserves, but he's here anyway and that thought jabs Blaine fully awake.
"Hey, Kurt!" The smile that comes to his face is more genuine than he thought he was capable of in such a state. That's good. "So, breakfast? I'm actually starving, so nice timing. Just give me a minute to change and fix my hair." Blaine steps aside to let Kurt in and it feels like, finally, his world is tipping back to where it belongs. Blaine is still a coward, sure, but he can do this. He makes a joke about how he had hoped Kurt would never see his crazy hair in it's natural state and starts to say something about how nice it is outside when Kurt grabs his hands, stopping him mid-sentence and making him see the look on Kurt's face.
Kurt's not falling for it, not one bit, and this has never happened before. He's slipped, sure, made people look at him funny like he did in front of Mr. Hummel or with his mom last night, but he's always recovered. Right now, Kurt hasn't said a word but his eyes let Blaine know he's not going to recover from this one. Keep it together-
"Blaine," is all Kurt says, and his voice is what does it. Blaine shatters. The tears start again and the sobs rack his body and Kurt holds him. He cries, for Sadie Hawkins and prom, for princess waves and red lights, for oblivious stepbrothers and overprotective fathers and fathers who merely nod when you pass by. For the art of not saying what you mean and for cowardice and letterman jackets and sorry-people-suck breakfasts. Blaine cries for himself and Kurt and for all the times he's kept it together and for all the things he doesn't think about, and Kurt holds him through it, stroking his hair and whispering over and over: I love you I love you I love you.