Blaine Anderson was not sleeping very well at all. To be perfectly honest, he felt much too guilty to even contemplate resting his achy body. Not when the boy he loved was hurting. Instead of dreaming, he repeated those precious three names inside of his head:
Kurt Elijah Hummel.
He had rocked Blaine's world to the core, ripping out all the pain and replacing it with the dull ache of new found love. Yet of course, he assumed things would never work out, since the lovely creature lived two hours away in Lima. But for once, Lady Luck snapped her rusty fingers, and Kurt found himself transferring to Dalton. (Under terrible circumstances, yes, but he was there nonetheless.) This only increased Blaine's fascination with the porcelain skinned man even more.
Blaine's best friends, Wesley and David, had told him countless times how extremely annoying his pining and shameless flirting had gotten. This went on for several weeks, until Blaine broke down and told them how much Kurt meant to his existence. The irrelevant fact that they both mentioned how creepy that sounded was, well, irrelevant. They had left him alone, sensing teenage love like a pair of bloodhounds. When Blaine crushed on somebody, there was simply nothing you could do but wait for marriage, or heartbreak.
So when this innocent, motherless, hurt, scared-
So when Kurt came to Dalton, only to watch himself put down and gently reassured that no, he would not be getting a solo for sectionals, Blaine had gotten very angry. Admittedly, his rendition of "Don't cry for me Argentina" was completely, and horrendously wrong for an acapella choir. Yes, of course, it wasn't the Warblers' fault that they didn't find the canary joke hilarious. One could argue that the occasional high five in the hallways would be a satisfactory way to welcome him to Dalton. Surely, though, they could have extended their arms open a little wider to this scared animal. Blaine had thought of nothing but these facts for the past few hours.
"You're still moping about it, aren't you?" Wes groaned from his bed. They had bickered about Kurt a half hour ago, and Blaine just sat on his own bed and glared daggers at the ceiling, blinking minimally. Times like these, said curly haired boy wished he didn't have such an annoying roommate.
"Nope." His voice was crisp and sharp, indicating that yes Wesley, I'm still "moping."
"Listen, dude." Wes sighed, delicately placing his beloved Macbook Pro onto his pillow. "I like Kurt, we all do. He seems like an okay kid."
"Then why-" Blaine fired up, instantly defensive.
"-But you know that his audition was not us." Wes paused, and then clasped his hands together. "Oh and the canary joke was crap. No offense."
"It was hilarious!" Blaine almost snarled, staring down into his lap like a child. This prevented him from seeing his best friend of two years flinch, but he knew the twitch had happened.
"Sorry." Blaine mumbled, playing with the pads of his fingers. His friend sighed from across the room, and picked his laptop (Laura) up again.
"I know you want him to be happy, I just don't get why you're so defensive." Wes' trained fingers shot across the keyboard expertly, and he barely had to look down while speaking.
"He's going through a rough time, and I know what it's like." Blaine said thoughtfully, running an anxious hand through his curly mane. Wes snorted, not looking away from his computer.
"That and you're hopelessly in love with him." His tone was too smug for somebody in his position.
"Stop that." Blaine mumbled, frowning deeply. "You know we can't have him running back to McKinley because he doesn't like Dalton. I need him here."
"Again, with the being a huge stalker: Tone it down." Wes snorted, only half joking. Honestly, the restraining orders he was bound to get very soon in life.
"Please, do me a favor, and kindly shut up." Blaine said, grabbing the nearest pillow he could find and whipping it at the Asian boy's head. It missed.
Wes smiled amusedly at the pillow that had landed three meters away from him. "Never been an athlete, man."
"I know." Blaine groaned, head falling into his hands. "Do you think Kurt likes athletes?"
"Okay no. Blaine, I never thought I'd tell you this, but go listen to Katy Perry. Take your love issues out on something other than me." His voice was firm, because Wesley Wright was a straight, hormonal guy. He was not the least bit interested in his gay best friends love life. Porn sounded good, but not that.
Blaine looked up, and bit his lip. Wesley shot him a glare that obviously meant he had had enough. The two were ready to give it a rest, and delve into silence, when a loud knock made them both jump.
knockknockknock.
They exchanged a look. "Come in!" Wes called, eyeing Blaine warily. Should it be another Warbler, it would just give him another person to complain to about Kurt's lack of reciprocated feelings towards him.
The door frame rattled, and swung open slowly. Kurt tentatively peered into the room, and shot Wes a quick smile, which was returned. "Sorry, Wes. Is Blaine here?" He mumbled. Blaine convinced himself that he was imagining the shakiness in the boy's soft voice.
"Hey!" Blaine grinned widely, his previously gloomy expression disappearing completely. He shifted in his bed to wave at Kurt, catching his eye. "Come in." He patted the empty space beside him with more than the average amount of energy one usually would have. Sitting on the same bed with his crush excited Blaine almost too much.
"Thanks." Kurt bit his lip, and cautiously entered the room. Even Wesley had to admit, it was a little heartbreaking to see the air of uncertainty Kurt brought with him. It was as though if he weren't polite, and quiet, they would all beat him into a pulp and ship him off to be dumpster tossed.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, knitting his eyebrows together in concern. When the overhead light hit Kurt, bringing him out of the hallway shadows, he could automatically tell that something was wrong. The slight red haze in Kurt's lovely eyes was perturbing. His shoulders slumped downwards, and he had the appearance of somebody that may have just gone through a breakup, or nasty case of the flu.
"I-I was wondering if we could talk." Kurt stuttered, pausing at the door after he shut it. His fingers found themselves, and fidgeted nervously. For some reason, he made no move to sit next to Blaine.
"Wesley, could you give us some privacy?" Blaine asked, his face stony as he noticed the tears threatening to overflow from Kurt's sea blue eyes.
"Sure, I'll be at David's." Wes agreed. Usually, he would have liked to stick around and embarrass Blaine, but Kurt looked like he was about to fall apart. Even he knew that trying to ignore a hurt Kurt would be like passing a dying puppy on the street, and Wes just wasn't in that kind of mood. Again, porn was more of the road he was trying to get on at the moment. He was eager to leave before he could get too caught up in the new Warbler's problems.
Wes fled his mattress, and shuffled across the room awkwardly. He didn't know Kurt very well, but wanted to say something. After all, Blaine had told him what a "heartless bitch" he had been to the boy earlier.
"Feel better, Kurt." He said gruffly, patting him on the shoulder quickly. Kurt may have said something in reply, but Wes was out of the room quicker than you could say awkward. The two soon found themselves blissfully alone, but there was something other than the slight scent of reunion in the air; Something that wasn't nearly as pleasant.
"Hey, hey what's going on?" Blaine crooned, pulling out his gentle, mentor voice. Kurt didn't respond but leaned back dejectedly against the cream coloured wall. It made his pale skin look bleached out and dead. There were several long seconds of silence.
"I don't like it here." He murmured, staring down at his feet. Blaine noticed that Kurt wasn't wearing socks, but an old pair of dingy slippers.
"At Dalton? Come, sit." Blaine offered, trying to keep his voice steady and controlled. Kurt nodded from across the room, and looked up again with a desperate expression.
"I-I guess it's Dalton." He stuttered awkwardly. Blaine let out a deep sigh, and shifted to make more room on the bed. He patted the empty space next to him cautiously, not knowing exactly what Kurt needed right now. Comfort could work, but what if he just needed advice? Either way, this seemed like a good place to start.
"Look Blaine, if you're busy or something," Kurt shot a glance at the clearly discarded Chemistry textbook on the floor next to his friend, "I'll leave. I just wanted to, you know, try-"
"Kurt, please sit down." Blaine repeated. His pale friend stared at him, and slowly edged towards the bed, slippers muffling the creaky floorboards. For the first time since they first met, and even then it had been barely there, Kurt was incredibly cautious.
He plopped himself down gently next to Blaine, and squirmed to get cozy in the nest of comforters and blankets Blaine had created. "Thanks," his weak voice whispered.
"C'mere, get comfortable." Blaine insisted, propping a body pillow behind them. It fit snugly into the crack between the wall and bed. Kurt sank into with a sigh of relief, the goose-feather filled fabric soothing his bruised back. His eyelids fluttered shut, preventing the disappointed Blaine from staring into their icy blue depths.
"Feels nice." He murmured. Blaine took a deep breath, and boldly scrunched himself up next to Kurt, their shoulders just touching. He liked to act like he was comfortable with himself, and with random clearly-not-new-kids, but in all honestly, Blaine was clueless and afraid of making the wrong move. Kurt didn't seem to mind though, and simply leaned his head onto Blaine's broader shoulders.
"I'm here if you need to talk, but you don't have to, you know." Blaine tried to contain a shudder when Kurt let out a warm breath onto his exposed neck. Of course, he succeeded...but just barely. It was uncomfortably close.
"Get yourself together, you're a mentor, not a creepy best friend." Blaine repeated to himself, only trying to believe part of it. Sure, it had started out with him trying to help Kurt...But in the end, Kurt ended up teaching him so much more. They were best friends, simply put. But still, the creepy in creepy best friend would have to be controlled better.
There was a pregnant pause, in which Kurt's breathing became slower and more relaxed. It was partly because of the warm pillows crushing him, but Blaine hoped that he had something to do with the equation as well.
Finally, he spoke. "I'm not adjusting to Dalton very well." Kurt admitted, voice shaky. Blaine craned his neck just slightly to look down at his friend, who looked tense, but kept his eyelids shut.
"That's okay." Blaine assured him. He offered a small nudge to the forearm. "Really, took me a full year to get over being gone from home. I still cry about missing my family, you know that?"
"You're kidding." Kurt accused, a small smile tugging on his downturned lips. Blaine chuckled, giving in.
"Okay so I don't cry, but I miss them a lot. Really." The serious tone of the conversation was back again. "What's got you down about it here?" Surprisingly, the boy answered immediately.
"I didn't get a solo." Kurt pouted, voice bitter. "I miss my friends, and my daddy. I want to wear fashionable clothes, not this admittedly-expertly-tailored-but-hideous blazer...I don't even like birds and..." The list went on and on, but Kurt cut himself off once he realized he had started to ramble. "S-sorry." He whispered, letting a nervous chuckle escape him. "It sounds stupid now that I admitted it out loud."
"Kurt, that's totally fine." Blaine said honestly. "I had to fight for months to get a line for myself in the Warblers. I miss my mom. Yeah, Pav can be a pain in the ass at night when you're trying to sleep but he just wants to chill out."
"Oh har-har." Kurt said sarcastically, opening his eyes. He flinched at the lights, but adjusted soon enough. Blaine stared down at him thoughtfully.
"There's something else, isn't there." He noted smugly. Kurt's tone was one of pure dismay, which was something much more serious than the slight longing it held now.
"Actually, yes." Kurt admitted, taking a deep breath and shifting to sit himself upright. His left cheek was red, and imprinted with blazer lines, but neither of them noticed.
"Okay, go for it." Blaine encouraged, placing a hand onto his knee. He kept his touch gentle, knowing Kurt didn't often allow others to touch him. Their gazes found each other, and locked there.
"Nobody likes me." Kurt said simply, the quiver returning to his tone. He did not cry, but each feature on his face reflected his sorrow, shadowing the bottled up emotion that was threatening to explode if one would only tap the exterior.
"That's not true." Blaine said skeptically. "Why would you even say that?" Of course though, part of him knew. It was a feeling he had experienced as well coming to the all boys private school. Being the new kid was never easy.
"The Warblers seem so...uptight." Kurt said honestly. "And then the rest of my peers. I mean, people high five me, and talk to me, I made tons of friends but..." He paused for a minute.
"But?" Blaine pressed, raising an eyebrow. This was clearly different from the "alone" feeling he had experienced. Last time he checked, Kurt was actually a little popular.
"But nobody wants me." Kurt finished, gulping audibly. Blaine's breathing hitched. There was no way he was going to give boy advice to somebody he had been crushing on hard for the past months.
"Well-uh-" He stuttered, trying to dodge the subject. Kurt didn't answer, but Blaine wasn't surprised. He would've ignored such an "articulate" comment as well.
"Back at McKinley, I was alone. I covered up the hurt from that with the fact that everybody there was homophobic and narrow minded. Then I come here, tons of single gay gays, incredible acceptance, but still not one offer. I don't have an excuse to boost my morale anymore." Kurt wrinkled up his tiny, button nose. "Is that supposed to hurt, or was I expecting too much?" He looked up at Blaine with a longing expression, pouting like a small puppy. Blaine's heart may as well have shattered into a million smoking pieces.
"No, it's not." He said finally, squeezing his knee cap. Kurt looked surprised by the answer.
"I tried to tell Jake, but he said that I shouldn't have expected to have people hounding me-" Kurt spluttered, before Blaine's loud chuckle cut him off.
"Jake's a straight guy with a girlfriend. His opinion is invalid." Blaine kept his voice firm, but it was hard when Kurt looked down at his knees as though he would be alone forever. "Listen to me, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, okay? You deserve it, and one day it will come to you. Sooner than you'd expect."
"You've never had a boyfriend." Kurt stated simply, not meeting his gaze. "How can you be sure?"
"Never had a boyfriend, but as a single man who observed happy relationships his entire life, I think I can consider myself an expert in the field. So many unlikely couples. The popular blonde with the Glee club handicapped kid? You were the one who told me about them." Kurt looked up at him with a different expression. It was lovely, but pained, and so incredibly needy.
"You really believe there's somebody out there for each of us?" He asked, blinking back tears of loneliness that had eaten away at his gut for the entire day. Blaine shrugged, looking thoughtful.
"Maybe, maybe not. But there's somebody for you, that I'm sure of." He tried to smile but instead his lips wobbled up and down frantically, trying not to imagine Kurt marrying a tall, built stranger in a lovely tux. He himself was an unfashionable hobbit, who obviously stood no chance.
"I cannot believe that you honestly think that." Kurt's face was stony again, and he slumped back down against the pillow in deject. The tiny trace of hope that may have been swimming up to the surface of his expression was long gone.
"And here I was, making you feel better." Blaine laughed. "Don't give up on me, you're not leaving until you're happy."
Kurt sighed, and folded his arms across his chest. "Get used to me then."
"There really is no rush." Blaine added, pulling out every line from that romantic comedy David had forced him to go to last month. "You've got your whole life to find somebody."
"That's great." Kurt said, staring off into space, clearly not listening to him. A moist glaze was making his eyes sparkle again. It was not a happy sight, but pretty nonetheless. Spectacularly pretty. "Everything's wrong."
"It's okay Kurt." Blaine said softly, wrapping a careful arm around Kurt's shoulders. He didn't squeeze, knowing full well from last months change-room incident that it was bruised and battered from years of torment.
Of course, as Blaine sensed it eventually would, something broke. The threads that had sown Kurt together, making him a limp rag doll, slowly ate away at each other until they were completely dissolved. The porcelain doll unravelled, and collapsed into a heap of loss. A small sniffle confirmed this, and Kurt shyly inched his face closer to Blaine's shoulder.
"Come here, you." Blaine hushed softly, pulling Kurt's face into his shoulder where it buried itself hastily. His tiny frame shook just a little, but it had a dramatic effect all the same. It reminded Blaine of a small shack being hit by a powerful hurricane, just barely resisting from caving it's thin walls in.
Kurt balled his fists up and gripped Blaine's shirt sleeve tightly. He made no sound, but the curly haired boy could feel his shoulder cap getting wet, as tears streamed down Kurt's flushed face. Trembles shook his body, but Kurt muffled a sob hastily.
"No, let it out." Blaine assured him, wrapping an arm around his waist, the other rubbing soothing lines up and down his back. "It's just us, don't be embarrassed."
"I'm so lonely." Kurt whimpered, rocking back and forth. Blaine scowled, fuming at whoever made Kurt feel this way.
"You don't deserve to be." Blaine licked his chapped lips, and imagined how they would feel against Kurt's smooth ones.
"Then explain why I am-" Kurt spat bitterly, tensing. His voice was muffled by Blaine's uniform pressing against his face, but the venom in it was unmistakable.
"Kurt don't do that." Blaine said seriously. "It's completely natural, painful, and human to feel lonely...But don't you dare take that out on yourself. It's not your fault that Karofsky is like he is, or any other person that's made you feel like hell. It's not." Blaine nudged Kurt's face off of his uniform, and unwrapped his arms from around him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Kurt sniveled, mistaking Blaine's pulling away as annoyance. His eyes were a hazy red already, and his cheeks had the remains of fresh tears splattered on it like excess blood on a murderers shirt.
"No, come on, stay!" Blaine pleaded when Kurt made to get off the bed. He grabbed this porcelain wrist with his left hand, and gripped it tightly. "Look at me right now." His voice was stern. Kurt gave in under the loud, bossy tone Blaine used and hesitantly looked up into those mocha butwhentheyhitthesunhazel eyes.
"I look gross." He blushed, his puffy nose flaring in disgust. "I'm also upset and blubbering."
"You're also my best-friend, and we both count on each other when we're down." Blaine countered. "And you know what?"
Kurt hummed in recognition, his tone asking, "What Blaine? Tell me, I would love to know."
"You are gorgeous." Blaine croaked out, voice cracking. Kurt stammered for a few seconds before giving up on speaking. "Gorgeous. And funny, adorable, I could go on! Someone is going to fall for you, and you're going to live happily ever after and you bet I'm gonna be there at your wedding to say 'I told you so.' Don't get yourself down, okay? Because you're perfect, and I happen to know that Gage from third period has a monster crush on you." Blaine finished his speech with a sad smile. Each and every word that he said was true, and came from the depths of his mind. The Gage part, though? It was painful to admit.
"Thanks." Kurt said, still not smiling. More tears leaked down his face, and the two boys were not touching. Blaine reached out a hand, which Kurt allowed to intertwine their hands together.
"It's the truth." Blaine's face was soft, and distraught with heavy emotion. He himself was too busy wondering why he always fell for the wrong people. These thoughts didn't last long, as he became preoccupied with the way Blaine's thumbs soothed circled into his palms. It felt good.
"You don't believe me." Blaine raised his eyebrows and frowned deeply. Kurt blinked innocently, looking too much like a bunny.
"I don't have to." He insisted, hiccuping from the sobs. Blaine sighed in frustration.
"You should." Blaine leaned in a little closer to him. "You know you should be able to think that about yourself; that you're amazing."
"I can't." Kurt coughed, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears. When he opened them again, Blaine was a good distance away from his face, but still pressing closer. His breath caught when he assumed what his friend was going to do, but Kurt made no move to turn away. He simply sat there, frozen in shock, and utter longing.
"Let me show you." Blaine pleaded, inches away now. His tone was tender, and filled with an emotion neither boy could place. Kurt gulped, and took a deep breath. Blaine kept lingering teasingly near his lips, almost allowing their noses to touch, until he became still and rigid.
"Is this okay?" He whispered questionably, licking his lips. Kurt didn't say anything for a long time, which caused Blaine's stomach to twist in anxiety. Still, he wouldn't go back on his decision to try to kiss Kurt...It felt right, and he was proud to say that he acted when he knew it was as appropriate a time as he was going to get.
"I-It's..." Kurt stammered. "I don't know what I'm doing." He mewled, shaking in earnest now. The tears dripped down onto his thighs, and Blaine's knees as they gradually moved nearer.
"Neither do I." Blaine admitted, stopping and almost unnoticeably crumpling his face up. He made to pull away but Kurt's whine at the lack of contact reeled him back in like a magnet. Blaine gently nudged noses with Kurt, testing the waters, and his stubble tickled the others chin. Kurt was frozen, so Blaine was the one to move in and press his lips delicately against the other's soft, velvety smooth lips.
No fireworks or orgasms. Just the pure sweetness that was them.
After that first touch, neither of them knew what to do. The lips were, erm, touching, yes. But where do they go from here? Kurt took a second to think, and opened his mouth slightly to release them, before going in for another chaste kiss. They pressed each other together more greedily now, but not daring to open their mouths to expose themselves completely. Together, they tasted a little like cinnamon, which Blaine's coffee always had ample shots of, but mostly just salt. The tears Kurt had been crying were dripping down his nose, and smearing across Blaine's blushing face. Kurt fluttered his eyes open, not having consciously closed them, and stopped the sloppy, inexperienced movements his lips had been attempting to pull of as kisses. Blaine opened his eyes, too, wondering why the other boy had stopped. They caught each others gaze, and realized that they were sitting their with their lips touching, even though the kiss was long over. An awkward scene ensued afterwards, as they blushed and fumbled their way out of the others hold.
Blaine offered Kurt a weak smile, as he shifted away from him. After that attack of personal space, Kurt deserved to be able to make the next move.
"Blaine, I like you." He murmured, shaking his head to himself. His eyes kept burning, even though what was sure to be the best moment of his life so far had just unfolded.
"I like you, too. A lot." Blaine gave out a strangled laugh, fidgeting with his fingers. They stared at each other pensively, memorizing the others face. Blaine had a dimple on his right side, which showed even when he wasn't smiling. Kurt had frown lines on his forehead, that weren't visible, but because of how drawn in and tense the skin there was, Blaine assumed that they would come in soon enough; He would have to change that.
Kurt propped himself up onto his elbows and crawled next to Blaine, collapsing on the fluffy pillow. This did funny things to the mattress, causing it to bob up and down. "It's midnight." He said quietly, eyeing the clock on the wall. Blaine nodded, and slowly lowered himself down next to his more than friend. His curly mane found the comfortable pillow he had brought from home.
"You're smiling." Blaine noticed, grinning a tiny grin himself. Kurt had stopped crying yes, and some force of (love?) deep emotion was pulling his cheeks up again.
"You can thank yourself for that, Blaine Anderson." Kurt said shakily, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time. He snaked out a hand that found Blaine's easily, and they held each other like that.
"Do...Do you wan't to come closer?" Blaine asked hesitantly, biting his bottom lip. Kurt shifted towards him, feeling gawky with his blazer on.
"Is this okay?" He asked breathlessly, pressing up ever so slightly to Blaine's chest. His voice was awkward and unsure, but always enchanting.
"Yeah, this is fine." Blaine faltered, feeling Kurt press their bodies closer together. Soon, it got too much for them, and they pulled away a few centimeters to maintain some distance. Blaine turned over to wrap an arm around Kurt's waist.
This led to an awkward mess of legs and arms, hitting each other, and stabbing uncomfortably against various joints. Eventually, what was left, was a bundle of two people, hugging softly on Blaine's bed. It felt so serene, and sympathetic, that at times Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine was touching him at all. (At least until he shifted and felt those large, calloused palms cupped against his chest.)
Kurt was lost in his own dazed, fuzzy mind. His heart was telling him to be ecstatic, and calling Mercedes. But he was upset, and wanted to cry. Blaine hadn't made him want to dance, but instead there was the unfamiliar sensation of being tied up again. Blaine's heart had slowly threaded him back together, and now they were together. Kurt was not significantly better, but he felt...whole.
"You awake?" He whispered, nuzzling Blaine's cheek with his nose to try to move him. He felt his own dried tears on Blaine's face, and judged by his steady breathing that yes, he had fallen asleep. Eventually, Kurt would drift off as well. It didn't matter that they were uncoordinated and so terribly new to all of this, or that it had taken a clumsy five minutes which involved lots of apologies and countless repeats of "Could you move your leg there? Thanks." None of that mattered in the least.
What mattered was that Kurt was better, and patched up. What mattered was that Blaine could feel Kurt's heartbeat thumping away at his chest while he dreamt. What mattered was that they finally had each other, no matter how unskillful and compromising this new field of romance was. Because that didn't take away from the fact that it felt amazing, and that tomorrow was going to be the best day of their lives. Dates would be planned, kissed would be shared, Kurt would call his father who would be happy for him, and...
Not now, though. For now, they slept, tangled up in each other, because there was no other place either of them would prefer to be.
A/N: I was listening to Coldplay, and trying to finish the chapter from my full length Klaine fic, and then all of the sudden, POW. This was here.
Thank you Chris Martin, for inspiring me without me noticing until I opened my eyes and found a oneshot.
Please do review! It makes my heart go wee. Like...super wee.
You're all amazing! Hugs and butterfly kisses!
Mwah [: