Blaine sits in front of his computer Thursday night, working on his Calculus worksheet while waiting for Kurt's call to come in. He only just got home from Les Miserables rehearsals an hour ago, leaving him just enough time to shower and start his homework before Kurt got home from his own long day of classes.
Thursdays were by far Kurt's busiest day of the week, but they were also the only days that Kurt was consistently free in the evenings. Between a part time job at a department store, evening classes and study groups, Kurt had a hard time getting more than quick phone calls and texts in before Blaine had to get to sleep.
Just as he is finishing up his last equation, his computer begins to ring, signaling he has an incoming FaceTime request.
"Hey you," Blaine answers with a smile.
"Fourteen hours," Kurt says, he looks exhausted but happy.
"I've had a countdown going on my phone since I got my ticket yesterday," Blaine says, holding up his phone to reveal the timer that was running on his screen. Thirteen hours, forty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.
"I was about ready to spend all my savings to get you here if he didn't cave," Kurt says as he moves away from the screen to pull his dinner into his lap and start eating.
Blaine smiles, trying not to think about his dad too much. It had been a long month of arguments and threats.
"I wouldn't have let you spend it," he says, thinking of the long hours Kurt spends at work slaving away. "I know you're saving it for that school trip to Athens next summer."
"It's not just your future that depends on you getting into school in New York you know," Kurt says pointedly. "I meant it when I told you I was in this for the long hall. What's mine is yours."
"Well it's a moot point, because my dad did buy the ticket," Blaine says. "Though he's still pretending that this isn't happening. He invited me to a Buckeyes game this weekend."
"Glad to know he's only interested in father son bonding when it means keeping you away from getting a quality education next year."
"You and I both know that's not his concern," Blaine says with a pointed look. No matter how many times he had told his dad he was going to New York to visit colleges, all he had heard was 'you're going to see your boyfriend.'
"Well it's ridiculous. You have to go on college visits and I don't see him leaping at the chance to take you."
"Only because I'm not visiting his alma mater," he says bitterly.
"In what scenario does he ever expect you to stay in Ohio for college," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "Apart from possibly Oberlin, you're too good for any of those schools."
Blaine smiles at Kurt's kind words. It's easy to believe his father's words when he says he's not good enough. When he tells him that he'll never be able to make a career our of music. But he's always got him mom, his friends, and most especially Kurt to remind him that he's better than Ohio. Better than what a town—hell a family—full of homophobes believe.
"Besides, you're going with Tina and her mom anyway. Does he think we're going to be having a giant gay orgy the entire weekend?"
"Well it's not as if he hasn't caught us having sex before," Blaine says, causing them both to blush as they thought of one particularly mortifying night this past summer. "So, homophobic as he might be, he's right."
"I can't believe that night hasn't been burned from your memory," Kurt groans.
"Well it was really good sex," he says with a hearty laugh. "And I didn't get to see you for three weeks afterwards, so I might have had to replay that night repeatedly. You know, minus my dad coming home early and finding us on his couch."
"You're dad's such an asshole sometimes," he mutters.
"For being angry we got cum on his couch?" Blaine smirks. Though he knows that's not what Kurt is talking about.
"Fourteen hours," is Kurt's only response.
"Thirteen and a half." Blaine smiles back dreamily. "I don't even care if I get grounded for the next month in retaliation. I get to see you and that's all that matters."
Kurt smiles back at him and they both stare at each other in silence for a few moments. Blaine doesn't know how on Earth he ever found Kurt, but he knows that he's not stupid enough to ever let him go.
"So how was rehearsal today?" Kurt asks, pulling a takeout container out of a bag and getting up quickly to grab a fork to eat with. Blaine knows it must have been a long day if his boyfriend has resorted to eating takeaway.
"Don't even get me started. Artie's a good director, but sometimes I just want to throw something at his head."
"New Directions in general will have that effect on you," Kurt says with a laugh. "It can't be any worse than when he told you to lose your virginity of your Tony would suck."
"Yes, yes it could," Blaine says, rubbing his temples. He had nearly forgotten about this afternoon in his excitement over New York, but now it is all coming back to him. "You'll never guess who got expelled from Carmel for drinking on campus and is now getting cast in as my understudy."
Kurt's head shoots up and Blaine can see the wheels turning in his mind as his expression gets darker.
"Please tell me you are talking about Sunshine Corazon and Artie is going with a dramatic reinterpretation of the script."
"He starts Monday," Blaine says, knowing he doesn't have to explain who ihe/i is. They are both well aware the only person in Vocal Adrenaline worthy of concern in one Sebastian Smythe. Ever since Dalton had expelled him for bullying last year, Sebastian has been at Carmel High and giving them shit. After all, Carmel practically encourages bullying the competition.
"How the hell is that even allowed?" Kurt asks.
"We believe in second chances. Just look at how Puck and Santana got reformed from their bulling ways with a little guidance, Blaine. This could be good for you and New Directions," Blaine says in his best Figgins voice. "Look at how talented he is."
"I hate that school. I absolutely hate it," Kurt says. "Why on Earth did I ever let you leave Dalton. At least they had the common sense to expel the asshole. You ended up in the hospital because of him."
"It was one slushie, a freak allergic reaction, and a mild concussion. I was out in an hour," Blaine says.
"Don't make this out to be nothing," Kurt says, getting worked up.
"Artie and Schuester's words, not mine." He holds his hands up, defensively. "Besides, you didn't make me leave Dalton. I left of my own accord."
"What do the rest of New Directions think of this?" Kurt asks. Blaine can see him stabbing his chicken with more force than necessary.
"I told them not to do anything. So naturally, they've got something planned," Blaine says, thinking of Tina and Rory in the corner today whispering suspiciously.
"Can we just get you to New York already?" he whines, putting his head into his hands.
"Soon."
"I hate that you're stuck there without me," Kurt says, giving him a sympathetic smile.
"At least one of us is free," he says. "Besides, I love hearing all about your big city life. Keeps me focused on the future."
Blaine always does his best to remain strong in front of Kurt. He tries his best not to let Kurt see just how hard it has been for him ever since he moved away. With his mom three hours away and only allowed to see him twice a month, there isn't much here for him. Sure he spends most of his weekdays at rehearsals for both the school musical and New Directions, but it isn't always enough. No matter how many game days he has with Burt or movie nights with Tina, he still has to come home to this house every day.
"I should let you go, you've probably got some packing to finish up. I've still got to wash my sheets and run to the store for some things," Kurt says.
"What kind of things?" Blaine asks, raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
"The kind of things I haven't needed since I left Ohio," Kurt says, flirting back with him.
"Well you can cancel your trip. I'm bringing some supplies of my own and I know you're exhausted. You should get some rest. I don't want you falling asleep on me tomorrow."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Kurt says, trying to smile but ends up yawning instead.
"Alright, that's it. I'm ending this call. Get into bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Telling you I love you and I'm excited wouldn't quite cover it."
"Me too, babe," Blaine says, softly. "God, me too. Sweet dreams."
"Night."
The next morning, Blaine takes his seat on the plane near the window, sitting on Tina's left while Mrs. "please call me Sandra" Cohen sits on her right. The two of them have been planning this trip ever since the first day of school, when Tina had mentioned that she was looking into colleges in New York. It had taken Tina's mom a total of thirty seconds to agree to chaperone.
Blaine absolutely adores Tina's parents. They are supportive and caring while still remaining relatively uninvolved in Tina's personal life. They give her plenty of room to grow on her own, yet can still be seen in the audience of nearly every performance. They love her unconditionally and remind him so much of his own mother.
If only his dad could be as nice. The only reason his dad had finally agreed to pay for ihis/i ticket was because his grandfather had gotten involved. There isn't much that Paul Anderson hates more than allowing his son to spend time with his boyfriend, but having his father pay for things is one of them. And lucky for Blaine, he has had his grandfather wrapped around his finger ever since he found a four-year-old Blaine attempting to play his violin one Thanksgiving.
"I'm glad you could come with us, Blaine. Tina said you weren't sure if you were going to be able to make it," Mrs. Cohen says, leaning across Tina to hand him the sandwich she'd bought for him in the terminal.
She had insisted, stating airplane food was horrible and really, Blaine wasn't going to turn it down. His own funds have been low ever since the divorce. Allowance quickly became an easy punishment with his father. And Blaine rarely got it anymore, always managing to do isomething/i wrong. He refuses to ask his mother for money. She would gladly give him, whatever he needed, but he knows that she can't afford it. She is still trying to pay for the lawyer. Not that he deserves a dime, he hadn't even won the case.
"I'm glad I could make it, too," he says, leaving it at that.
"Is this what you are going to be like all weekend?" Tina says, gesturing to where his feet are tapping out a happy beat against his backpack.
"I had to sit through three hours of you attached to Mike's lips two weeks ago, so don't even start."
Tina elbows him in the ribs and gives an embarrassed nod towards her mother.
"Did you and Mike have the New York discussion yet?" he asks, settling in as the flight attendants go over the safety instructions. This is the worst part of the flight. The impossibly long half hour where you aren't allowed to have your headphones in. At least this time, he has Tina to talk to.
"I'm pretty sure he doesn't expect me to join him in Arizona," she says, picking at a loose strand on one of her fingerless gloves.
"That doesn't mean he's knows your planning on living on the other side of the country either," he says.
"Nothing's decided. I really like the programs in California, too. And he knows I'm visiting colleges in New York this weekend. I think he's put two and two together," she says.
"Well for the record, I think he'd be happy with whatever you chose. You were so supportive of him, there's no way he wouldn't push you to follow your heart as well."
"He is my heart," she says, blushing a bit.
"I know the feeling."
He pulls out his iPod as the seatbelt sign is turned off and hands an earbud to Tina. She leans her head in to rest on his shoulder as they set about memorizing some ridiculous song about a joyride. How on Earth Shue thinks this song will win them Sectionals, Blaine has no idea. Especially when he knows that the Warblers have Jeff and Nick leading on an epic 90's mashup of NSYNC, Destiny's Child and Backstreet Boys. Not that he can share this knowledge with New Directions. Not after the disaster Michael Jackson was last year.
Frankly, Shue shouldn't be allowed to make set list decisions. Ever. They only reason the club hasn't downright boycotted is that everyone knows the set list will be thrown out ten minutes before the competition anyway in favor of some song meant to teach them the meaning of life.
And on the off chance that doesn't happen? Well Blaine, Tina and Artie might be plotting secret rehearsals of their own. What Shue doesn't know, won't kill him.
Blaine relaxes, leaning his head against Tina's and they spend the rest of the flight silently mouthing the words to Roxette's 'Joyride.'
Exactly two hours and twelve minutes from the time Blaine had boarded the plane, he finds himself walking past security and attacked by his boyfriend. The two hug each other tightly while Blaine tries hard not to cry. Two and a half months away from Kurt has been brutal.
"Let's never do that again," Blaine whispers as his lips graze Kurt's skin. He's buried his face in the crook between his shoulder and neck.
"I missed you, too," Kurt says before slowly pulling them apart. He's wearing a smile so ridiculously large that Blaine wants to laugh, if he didn't know his own face probably mirrored his expression.
"Oh Kurt, sweetheart," Mrs. Cohen says, pulling him in for a hug. "It was so sweet of you to come and pick us up at the airport. I hope you aren't missing anything important."
"Nothing's more important than this," he says, giving Tina a quick hug before grabbing onto Blaine's hand. "Let's get the rest of your things and grab some lunch. Your first tour isn't until two, right?"
"We're supposed to be at the New School at two-thirty, but I want to get there early in case we get lost," Tina says. She pulls her duffle bag higher on her shoulder and heads for the exit.
"What about your bags?" Kurt asks, turning to Blaine.
"You're looking at them," he says, gesturing to the violin case in his hands and the backpack on his shoulder.
"That's all you brought?"
Blaine laughs at Kurt's surprise.
"It's three days," he says, pulling on Kurt's hand to get him to follow Tina and her mom out. "I figured my wonderful boyfriend would let me borrow shower stuff and something to sleep in."
"And if I don't?" Kurt glares playfully.
"I guess I'll just have to sleep naked." Blaine smirks.
"I'm not sure Mrs. Cohen would appreciate that," Kurt says with a laugh.
"We could always skip the tour," Blaine whispers into Kurt's ear. "I'm fairly sure I won't be applying to the New School."
"Don't tempt me," Kurt whines, kissing him quickly on the lips. "I promised your mother we would be responsible and check out as many schools as we could."
"Since when are you talking to my mother?" he asks, perplexed. He's pretty sure that he would have heard about this before now.
"So I was thinking about sandwiches," Kurt says to the group, changing the subject. Blaine rolls his eyes, determined to get the full story out of his boyfriend at some point this weekend.
"Thank God, I'm starving," Tina says as they all begin to load into a cab.
"So where is your friend, Rachel?" Tina's mom asks from the front seat once they all settle in and the cab starts moving.
"She's got workshops all day today," Kurt says. "She promised to meet us tomorrow for breakfast. It's for the best really, she's a terror after these things."
"How are those going?" Tina asks. "She hasn't updated her blog in over a week, it's weird."
"Well," Kurt says, looking around as if making sure there isn't anyone else in the cab with them. "She'd kill me if I told you."
"Like when has that ever stopped you," Tina says, leaning in close with a big smile. Blaine rolls his eyes, he's forgotten how the two of them turn into gossip queens around each other.
"She comes home from rehearsals almost every day crying," Kurt says quietly. "The directors are really critical. I told her she'd better get used to it, casting directors aren't going to be much nicer. But still, they are a little harsh. Much as I hate to admit it, she's got amazing range, so for them to criticize her voice is a bit much."
"What school is this?" Tina's mom asks, curiously.
"AMDA," Kurt replies.
"Is this one of the schools that we are visiting?" she asks.
"Yes mom," Tina says, giving her a pointed look. "Nothing's saying I have to go just because we check it out.
"I guess."
Blaine rests his head onto Kurt's shoulder and zones out as Tina and her mom discuss the various colleges they'll see this weekend. He spends time looking out the window and imagining that it's next year already. That's he doesn't have to worry about college applications and long distance relationships. That he's eighteen and living on his own. That he can finally live in a city where he won't be constantly criticized for being himself. That he'll be able to finally have a home filled with love and acceptance.
Kurt squeezes his hand, getting Blaine to look up at him. When he does, Kurt smiles brightly and mouths, 'I love you.'
It's all Blaine ever needs to hear to know that despite everything, he's incredibly lucky. He hasn't felt this content in months.
Frustratingly, it isn't until Sunday morning that Kurt and Blaine actually get more than ten minutes alone together. Mrs. Cohen had been keeping a surprisingly close eye on Blaine the entire trip, which was rare and made sneaking off to Kurt's a lot more difficult. It wasn't until he asked Tina about it, that he understood why.
"I hate my dad," Blaine complains to Kurt after they say their goodbyes to Tina, Mrs. Cohen and Rachel at the hotel. "I actually hate him."
According to Tina, his dad had called their house Thursday night to discuss the trip with her mother. He had given rather strict instructions that Blaine was not allowed to spend any time alone with Kurt at either the hotel or his dorm room.
"Maybe the tour will end early and we'll have enough time to sneak off before you have to be at the airport," Kurt says, pulling him close.
It's the last day of his trip and Blaine is beyond aggravated. He's not ready to leave New York yet. Especially not without spending any quality time alone with his boyfriend.
"It's not even that we couldn't have sex, I don't even care about that," Blaine grumbles.
Kurt shoots him a disbelieving look.
"Okay, I care a little bit. But it's more that we haven't had any time to just be ius/i," Blaine says, trying to will the water in his eyes to go away. He doesn't want to cry, not in front of Kurt. Not in front of anyone. And he sure as hell doesn't want to cry when he's about to go visit Columbia, the school he's wanted to attend since his grandfather brought him to New York in seventh grade.
"Why does he ruin everything?"
Kurt stops him on the street and pulls him off to the side so they are out of the way.
"Look at me," he says, putting his hands on Blaine's cheeks and forcing him to look into his eyes. "This trip has been amazing. Getting to spend time with you has been amazing. Even if I had to share you with Rachel, who wouldn't stop stealing you away to duet with her last night. He didn't ruin anything. He will never be able to touch us, you know that, right?"
"I don't want to go home," Blaine says, trying to smile. He knows that Kurt is right. He's just being emotional at the moment. His dad always manages to break through his confidence and tear him down a bit.
"I don't want you to either," Kurt says. "I've debated kidnapping you, but in the long run it's best if you go home. If I want to keep you permanently, I need you to graduate high school first."
"You know, before I found out that my dad was the reason we haven't gotten to be alone, I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Blaine confesses. "I wanted to have time together and I thought it was a little weird that Tina's mom chose this weekend to suddenly get strict, but I was having a good time."
"So let's not let him ruin it," Kurt says, squeezing his hand and pulling him along. "Let's go. I may have lied about how long it actually takes to get there. We should have more than enough time to stop for coffee before you're expected on campus."
"A coffee date, huh?" Blaine asks, smiling.
"I know my audience," Kurt says, allowing Blaine to pull him into a kiss before heading down the stairs towards the subway.
Fifteen minutes later, the two find themselves sitting in a bakery, drinking coffee and sharing a biscotti.
"You know, I'm glad Rachel is taking Tina to check out AMDA today instead. I'm anxious enough without everyone coming along," Blaine says, looking around the store nervously. He wonders if all of the kids in the shop are students at Columbia. They all look so well educated and proper. A few of them are tucked into corners with large books and laptops. But most of them are circled around tables discussing politics, literature, and the inherent sexism in popular television. He doesn't know what he was thinking, he will never fit in with these kids.
"Relax, babe," Kurt says, gently. "It's just a campus tour. You're not even interviewing with anyone from the school. It's going to be fine."
"What if they don't like me. What if I do something stupid and they blacklist me or something. Oh God, what am I wearing? I should have worn something else. I can't do this. We should just go."
"Okay, first of all, I picked this outfit out, so stop. You know you look fabulous, I'm insulted you'd think otherwise," Kurt says, giving him a pointed look. "Second of all, you're going to be amazing. Everyone that meets you is going to fall in love with you because you're a charming, well-mannered guy. And if they don't, who cares. Like I said, they aren't interviewing you today."
"Okay," Blaine says, taking a deep breath. Kurt's right, he's being ridiculous.
"Okay?"
"Yeah," Blaine says, nodding. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Kurt says softly. "College stuff is scary. I seem to remember being more than a little testy myself this time last year. Just relax. Everything works itself out in the end."
"Since when do you believe that?" Blaine asks, standing up to throw out their empty coffee cups.
"I wasn't exaggerating about Rachel before," Kurt says.
"Which part?" he asks, trying to remember everything Kurt's told him about her on the trip.
"About her coming home crying all the time," he says. "I love to perform, I do. But I don't think I can do it professionally. Music is a way for me to relieve my stress, I don't want it to become something that causes it. I've been talking to my professors about changing my focus."
"Really?" Blaine asks, surprised. This is the first he's hearing of this.
"I'm slowly realizing that it's much more rewarding to work backstage than on it," Kurt says. "I don't know what exactly I want to do yet, but I'm thinking costume design."
"Spending your life telling other people what to wear," he says, giving him a fond look. "Sounds perfect for you."
"I haven't told anyone about it yet, I still haven't fully decided. It would mean transferring to Tisch, but my professors don't seem to think that would be a problem," Kurt explains.
"Hey," Blaine says, squeezing his hand before he can start rambling. "Whatever you do, you'll be brilliant."
"Ready?" Kurt asks as they leave the bakery and walk towards the visitor's center.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Oh my God, they're everywhere," Blaine says, sitting down in front of one of the open pianos. This is the third building they've come across that had pianos around for the students to use.
Kurt drags over a chair so he can sit beside him and watches with an amused smile. Blaine rests his arms on top of the piano and lays his head down.
"It's official, I'm in heaven." He sighs happily. "I can just die here and that would be perfectly fine."
"Are you going to play me something," Kurt asks him, kicking his foot out so that he can run it along Blaine's calf.
"What do you want me to play," Blaine flirts back, his mood radically changed from this morning.
Today has gone exceptionally well. Better than he had expected. They had sat through an hour presentation from admissions, reviewing requirements, available programs, and other tedious information that Blaine had memorized by heart since freshmen year. But Kurt reminded him that it was still nice to hear that his test scores and grades put him well within the range of accepted applicants.
In the hour and a half break between their presentation and their campus tour, they had stopped for lunch and ran into an old friend of his from Dalton, Kent. He had been on the senior council of the Warblers Blaine's freshman year. Kent was nice enough to sit down with them and answer all of his questions. He even went as far as suggesting Blaine call Mr. Reynolds, their old english professor at Dalton, to write one of his recommendation letters for him. Mr. Reynolds knew a few people in the admissions office and had always favored him in class due to his own time in acapella groups.
"How about that piece you've been writing for glee club but are too chicken to show anybody," Kurt says, smirking at him.
"How do you know about that?" Blaine asks him, suspiciously.
"Your mother," he says.
"Okay, seriously, what is that? Why are you talking to my mom?"
"Relax," he says with an easy laugh. "She just wanted some advice on one of your Christmas presents. And no, I'm not telling you about it so don't even ask."
"No fair," Blaine says with a pout, though secretly he loves that Kurt and his mom get along so well. It's goes a long way in making up for the fact that his dad can't even say Kurt's name.
"You see my dad almost every week, want to talk about fair?" Kurt says, pointedly. "I know he's shown you my baby pictures."
"I deny everything."
Blaine holds his hands up defensively before moving to tap out a melody on the keys, relaxing his shoulders and thinking about what he wants to play. It's been a few weeks since he's really gotten the chance. Between fighting with his dad and in turn having to avoid his living room like the plague, then musical rehearsals taking up his free time at school, he hasn't been around a piano long enough to play anything.
He plays a Philip Glass piece he had been working on memorizing at the start of the school year. Kurt smiles, moving to sit beside him. He takes his right hand into his own, stopping Blaine just as he is about to finish the song. He turns to look at him, wondering why he stopped him. Kurt is biting his lower lip and smiling, a look Blaine knows means he wants something.
"Okay, seriously? I didn't play the song for anyone because it wasn't done. iNot/i because I'm chicken," he says, knowing that's what Kurt is silently asking. "And even if I may have finished it last week, I wasn't going to play it for them anyways because it's not for them, it's for you."
"Well," Kurt says, sitting up in his seat and gesturing that he's ready to listen attentively.
"Fine," Blaine snorts. "But you can't laugh."
"When have I ever laughed when you're performing?" Kurt asks, offended.
Blaine gives him a pointed look, he can think of iseveral/i times that Kurt has laughed at him.
"Let me rephrase, when have I ever laughed at something you've composed?"
Blaine makes it all the way through the second bridge before he notices an older woman watching him out of the corner of his eye. He stops singing immediately and turns around to look at her. She's standing by the door with her arms crossed giving him a peculiar look.
"Are you a student?" she asks.
"I'm sorry," Blaine says, standing up right away and ducking his head down so she can't see how badly he's blushing.
"Do you go here?" she repeats, eyeing him with interest.
"We were walking past and I saw it, nobody was in here. I didn't think it would be a big deal, so—" Kurt puts his hand on his arm to stop him. He's rambling like an idiot.
Oh god, what if she reported him? What if they threw him out? Would the admissions office find out?
"He's applying for fall admission," Kurt says.
Blaine looks up to see that she's wearing a soft smile and her eyes look a little red around the edges.
"You're Glass piece is good. Tempo still needs some adjusting in the middle. Nothing some more practice won't fix. I didn't recognize the second piece," she says, giving him a questioning look.
"I wrote it," Blaine says. "I know it still needs some work..."
"So you're a composer then?" she asks.
"Not really, no," he says, positive that he's making an ass out of himself. He wasn't prepared for this. God, he hadn't been expecting anyone to hear them.
"He wrote a piece for our show choir last year that won us Nationals," Kurt says.
Blaine shots him a look, what was he doing?
"Show choir, really?" she looks the two of them up and down, before smiling to herself.
"So you're both applying to Columbia then?"
"I'm actually a student at NYU," Kurt says. "I've tried to convince Blaine here to join me but he's got his heart set on Columbia. What can you do?"
"Well, Blaine, I do hope you're applying to the music program here," she says.
"Yes, ma'am," he answers, finally remembering how to speak.
"And you'll be focusing on the piano or vocals?"
"Actually, I want to study violin," he says.
"Well that's unfortunate. I was hoping I'd get to keep you all to myself next fall. I'm Professor Adams."
She holds her hand out to Blaine who shakes it.
"Blaine Anderson," he says.
"If you're half as good at the violin as you are at piano and vocals, Heartly is going to eat you up," she says.
"He's better," Kurt cuts in.
Blaine sends him a warning look which Kurt only shrugs at smugly.
"Really," Professor Adams says. She looks Blaine up and down with a strange expression before laughing to herself. "You really are something else, kid. I'll tell you what, are you free tomorrow?"
"Actually, I'm—" he starts before Kurt cuts him off.
"Completely free," he says with a smile. Blaine can only gawk at him. What is he doing? Kurt knows that he is leaving New York today.
"Perfect. Why don't you stop by my office tomorrow and we can work on fixing up that Glass piece. If I'm right, I think we can get that perfect in an hour or so. And if we're lucky, Heartly will be free to come hear you play. He teaches a lot of the violin privates here. He'd love to meet you I'm sure."
"Okay?" Blaine says, torn between absolute excitement and dread. On one hand, he has a professor at an Ivy league school offering to give him a private lesson. On the other hand, he is supposed to be leaving for the airport soon. In fact, he's probably late at this point. His father will kill him if he misses his flight.
"Here's my card," she says, pulling a business card out of her purse and handing it to him. "Stop by my office around two. Bring your violin and your usual audition piece."
"Okay," Blaine says, his voice shaky.
"It was nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson."
"It was nice to meet you too, Professor Adams."
She waves them both goodbye and walks away, leaving Blaine panicking. He throws himself back into the piano bench and begins hyperventilating.
"What was that?" Blaine asks Kurt, glaring at him. Kurt is wearing a huge smile and is clapping his hands excitedly.
"You are so getting into Columbia."
"I'm pretty sure I'm going to be denied entrance when I piss her off by not showing up tomorrow," Blaine whispers furiously. He hangs his head in his hands and tries to remember to breath.
Kurt leans down in front of him and pulls his hands away from his face.
"Calm down, this is a good thing, Blaine," he says, gesturing with his hands that he should breathe in and out slowly. He just glares back at him.
"How is this a good thing? My flight leaves in two hours."
"A professor at an ivy league school heard you play and cried. She was actually moved to tears. And now, said professor, wants to have a private lesson with you. This is like a Blaine Anderson wet dream. You. Have. To. Go."
Blaine starts laughing like a mad man. How is this his life right now? How on Earth does he manage to find himself in these situations?
"Blaine Warbler," Kurt says, taking both of his hands in his and looking at him fondly. He hasn't been called that in a very long time. "You are going to call your father. You are going to explain that your visit to Columbia went splendidly. You are going to delicately tell him that you are staying in New York for another day because if you show up tomorrow, you are pretty much guaranteed a spot at one of the best schools in this country. And if he has a problem with that, you can tell him to kindly fuck off."
Blaine just stares back at him. There was no way his father will agree to this. He had barely let him come to New York in the first place.
"This is one of those moments," Kurt says, biting his lip to stop from crying. "This can change your life. And I am so ridiculously proud of you right now. And I don't care if I have to sedate you and handcuff you, you are not getting on that plane."
It takes one look into Kurt's eyes for Blaine to realize that his boyfriend is serious.
"I'm not getting on that plane," Blaine repeats, slowly letting everything sink in.
Kurt is right, he realizes. This is his dream. And if he goes home now, he will likely regret it for the rest of his life. Who gives up a chance to work one on one with an ivy league professor? A professor that was kind enough to stop and talk to him when she didn't have to. A professor that is offering up her time to help him when he doesn't even go to Columbia. Shit, he's still in high school. This isn't something that just happens to people. There is no way in hell he is getting on that plane.
"Oh God," Blaine groans. "Artie is going to kill me for missing another rehearsal."
"You're seriously worried about Artie right now?" Kurt looks at him like he's gone crazy. Who knows, maybe he has.
"Right," he says, nodding. "I need to call my mom and tell her what happened."
"Great," Kurt says.
"My mom..." he repeats, thinking about it. He takes out his phone and begins searching through his contacts. "iShe/i can call my dad and tell him."
"Oh no," Kurt says snatching the phone out of his hands before he can dial. "Absolutely not. Your mother is inot/i calling your dad. There is no chance in hell he'll agree if she's the one asking. Man up and do it yourself."
Kurt holds the phone out of reach until Blaine grudgingly nods his agreement.
"Fine," he says. "What's the worst he can do, ground me?"
"Exactly." Kurt nods, handing him the phone back.
"He will you know," Blaine says. "He'll actually ground me for this."
"Okay," his boyfriend says, unsympathetically.
"Like take me out of Glee club and the musical, take away my cell phone, ground me."
"Blaine." Kurt stares at him with one of his patented bitch faces. "Ivy league school in New York. Let's have some priorities."
"I'm just going to call him," Blaine says, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
"You do that," he says, taking out his own phone. "I'm going to call Rachel and make sure she takes your bag and violin before Tina and her mom leave the hotel. You're going to need you're stuff if you're going to stay."
"Shit," Blaine says, quickly looking at his watch. He had completely forgotten about Tina and her mom. They're probably worrying about him.
"Don't worry about them, I'm calling now," Kurt says, rubbing his back gently and reminding him to breathe. "Just call your dad. I'll take care of everything else."
"Or you could call my dad and I could call Rachel," Blaine says, though at this point he's only half serious.
He knows what he needs to do. He's made up his mind that he's staying no matter what his father says about it. It's just that he also knows that he's about to get into a fight as well, and that's never something Blaine looks forward to.
"You're going to be in college next year," Kurt says condescendingly. "Grow a pair."
"Yes, Blaine," is how his father answers the phone thirty minutes later, once he's finally worked up the courage to make the call.
Kurt and Blaine have left the campus and are on their way to catch a cab to Kurt's dorm room at NYU. Rachel has already promised to pick up food from their favorite restaurant to celebrate. She has to bring over Blaine's things anyway and Kurt promises they can be rid of her much faster if they just agree to have a quick dinner with her first.
Tina's mom was surprisingly supportive of Blaine's decision to stay and even offered to call Paul Anderson on his behalf. But Blaine knows that the call needs to come from him, tempting as her offer had been. Tina, of course, was ecstatic for him and told him not to worry about missing school on Monday. It was probably for the best, seeing as it would be Sebastian's first day at McKinley.
"I need to talk to you about something," Blaine says, sliding into the taxi that Kurt has just hailed for them. Kurt holds onto his hand for support while he quietly tells the cab driver where to go.
"Can it wait until you get home tonight? I'm about to walk into your sister's science fair," he says, sounding rushed.
"Um... well that's the thing..." He doesn't quite know how to tell his dad that he isn't coming home. He knows the second the words leave his mouth, that the yelling will start.
"What did you do," he says, automatically assuming the worst as he always does.
"I'm not coming home tonight," Blaine says it quick, hoping maybe he won't hear him.
His dad is silent, but he can hear him taking loud steadying breaths on the other end.
"Blaine Michael Anderson," he says, slowly. "This isn't a joke. You have to get on that plane."
"The things is..."
"No," his dad cuts him off before he can even start.
It's so loud that even Kurt hears it. He gives him a reassuring nod.
"The thing is you are underage and my responsibility," his dad starts to yell. "You cannot run off with that boy. You realize all it would take is one phone call to the cops and I can have him arrested for aiding a runaway. This isn't a joke, Blaine."
"I know it's not a joke!" Blaine yells back, willing his eyes to stay dry. He can barely get through a single conversation with his father anymore without crying. It's ridiculous. He is going to be eighteen soon, he should be able to handle this. "Jesus, would you just let me explain before you jump to conclusions. You always do this. You don't listen."
"Relax, Blaine," Kurt says quietly. "Calm down and make him listen. Yelling won't help."
"I swear to God, you are not doing this to me again. You get on that plane tonight or so help me god I will fly there myself and make damn certain you never leave Ohio again."
"Dad, please," he pleaded. "Just listen to me, okay? All I'm asking for is one more day."
"One more day? Why? So you and your little boyfriend can have sex on ihis/i couch? I don't think so."
Blaine cringes, how many times is his dad going to bring that up? Yes, they were having sex. But he is seventeen and has been with Kurt for almost two years. Does he really expect him to stay a virgin?
"So I can actually stand a chance at getting into Columbia!" Blaine yells back, sick of his father and his overbearing attitude. "God why do you think every decision I make is about sex?"
"Maybe because you're so sex crazed you decided to let some boy fuck you in the middle of the day in my living room."
"You weren't supposed to be in town!" he yells back, growing angrier every time Kurt is referred to as just 'some boy.'
"I'm sorry," Kurt says to the cab driver when he turns around to stare openly at the two of them. The cab driver just waves him off, Blaine's sure this isn't the worst thing he's ever seen.
Beside him, his boyfriend begins rubbing his eyes, frustrated. But Blaine can see the faint blush covering his cheeks. He knows how horrible Kurt feels about them getting caught having sex. It had been Kurt's idea in the first place, though Blaine still insists he isn't to blame. It takes two and he hadn't once objected.
"That doesn't mean you're allowed to bend over and take it like a girl where our family sits every night. My god Blaine, we open Christmas presents in there. Your grandmother has sat on that couch."
"Jesus Christ, being gay doesn't make me a girl," He whispers furiously, mortified that Kurt can hear this. Blaine knows that him having sex isn't what annoys his father. It's the fact that Blaine lets Kurt top that pisses him off the most.
"You come home, do you fucking hear me," his dad demands. "I'm not having this conversation with you while I'm in a high school parking lot."
"Dad, please, for once in your life, just give me five minutes to explain," Blaine pleads for him to understand. "Then you can yell and scream at me all you want."
He can picture his father, sitting in his car, glasses pushed up while he rubs his eyes. He's seen it a million times. It's his famous, 'why must my son be such a constant disappointment,' pose.
"Five minutes," he says, he can hear the exhaustion in his voice.
"I visited Columbia today, and it went really well," Blaine says, careful not to mention that Kurt went with him for fear of setting him off again. "When the tour was over, I looked around a little bit and I came across some pianos. I played, since I haven't gotten the chance to in awhile. One of the professors there heard me and asked me if I could come in tomorrow for a private lesson. She also wants me to perform for one of the violin teachers."
Blaine stops, waiting to see if his father is going to say anything. When he doesn't, he continues. "I know I'm supposed to come home tonight and I was completely planning on it. But I really want to get into Columbia, you have no idea how perfect this school is for me. And I know if I can just impress this professor tomorrow that she'll help me get in. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get accepted there? How imany/i kids with grades just as good as mine if not better get turned away? I need to do this."
Blaine's dad is silent for a long time. Blaine doesn't know if he should keep talking or give him time to think.
"So this has nothing to do with spending the night with your boyfriend?" he says, condescendingly.
"God, Dad, no," he says, praying that he'll understand. "I'll even stay with Rachel if you ireally/i want me to. But you have to understand, I can't come home until tomorrow. If you're going to do anything for me ever in your life, this would be the moment."
"You can't stay with Rachel. Much as you might act like a girl, I'm pretty sure the school won't actually let co-eds sleep together," he says. He's moved on from being angry and tired to annoyed, which Blaine hopes means that he's seen his point and is bitter that he has to let his son stay.
Blaine rolls his eyes. He's fairly certain nobody would bat an eye if he slept over at Rachel's... and it has nothing to do with the fact that he's a igirl/i and everything to do with the fact that this isn't 1950. But Blaine isn't about to point this out to his father. Not when he's so close to getting to spend the night with Kurt. An entire, uninterrupted night.
"I can get a hotel room?" Blaine says, knowing as he offering it that it's not an option. There's no way any hotel would let at seventeen year old check in, and his father isn't cruel enough to make him sleep in this city alone anyway.
"You're underage," he grumbles. Blaine knows that he's got him now. If he can only hold on long enough, he knows that his dad is about to cave.
"Well I don't know anyone else in New York, so I don't really know what you want me to do."
His dad sighs deeply, Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand, knowing that he's just won. It doesn't happen often. It certainly hasn't happened since the divorce, but he still remembers what getting his way looks like.
"I want to believe you, but you haven't exactly proven yourself trustworthy. Especially around that boy."
Blaine bites his lip to keep from yelling out at Kurt being called 'that boy.' But he knows better than to argue with is dad now. He settles for not saying anything.
"What's the professor's name?" his dad asks.
"Professor Adams," he answers quickly.
"And when is your meeting?"
"Two o'clock tomorrow in Dodge Hall," he explains carefully, knowing his dad is listening for any lies. "I have her business card with a telephone number if you want to call her yourself. Though, I've got to tell you, an untrusting father would really ruin my chance at making a good impression."
He grumbles incoherently. Kurt gives him a questioning look, Blaine just waves him off before giving him a thumbs up sign. The conversation is going much better than either of the expected it to.
"I'm googling her when I get home."
"Okay," he says, trying hard not to laugh at how annoyed his dad sounds.
"And if she's not real, you're losing your phone and computer privileges for a month."
"She's real, Dad," he says, allowing himself to really smile for the first time since all of this happened.
"Forgive me if I just can't take your word on things anymore, ison/i."
"So I'm staying with Kurt tonight," he says carefully.
"I'll call the airline and get your flight changed to tomorrow night. But if you miss that flight, I'm dead serious about calling the police on your boyfriend."
"I won't miss the flight. Thank you dad," Blaine says, though it kills him to say it.
"Just make this worth it."
"I'll do my best not to disappoint you," Blaine says with a roll of his eyes and with that his dad hangs up the call.
"Well that sounded very positive from my end," Kurt says, giving him a sarcastic look.
"He's changing my flight isn't he?" he says, looking smug. He went toe to toe with his father and won. He didn't even have to get his mother or his grandfather involved, he'd stood up to his dad all by himself and actually won.
"He's still one of the most offensive men I've ever met," Kurt says, bitterly. Blaine knows that he heard a good majority of the conversation they'd had and it had never been a secret that Paul Anderson hates Kurt.
"I texted my roommate and told him he's not allowed to come home tonight." Kurt smiles, changing the subject.
"Did you now?" he looks Kurt up and down. He's wearing a pair of his painted on jeans, matched with a long sleeved dress shirt and vest. In fact, it's strikingly similar to the outfit Kurt wore the night they first had sex. The memory stirs something inside of Blaine and he meets Kurt's eyes, hungry for more.
"Well you know, my boyfriend was kind of amazing today and deserves some congratulatory sex." He smiles flirtatiously, recognizing the look in Blaine's eyes.
"How fast can we get rid of Rachel?" Blaine whines, willing the traffic in New York to clear so they can just ibe/i there already. How on Earth has he been with Kurt all weekend and not gotten the chance to sleep with him? Two and a half months was a long time to go without when you considered how often they were doing it before Kurt left.
"Don't bring up anything about AMDA and I'll get her out in an hour," Kurt says in a voice that let's him know that he's just as desperate to be alone as he is.
Blaine gives him a doubtful look. As determined as Kurt might be, this was still Rachel they were talking about.
"Two hours, tops."
"What if we just didn't let her in when she got here?" he asks, hopefully, running his hand up and down Kurt's thigh.
"She's holding your violin hostage," he says, removing his hand and glaring at it. Blaine holds back a laugh, knowing that he's worked Kurt up. "And our dinner. Lord knows you can't turn down cheese fries."
"Did you really get me cheese fries?" Blaine says, excited. This was honestly shaping up to be the most unexpected, yet amazing day ever!
"I'm feeling generous," he says in a tone that warns him not to expect it often.
"I love you."
"Because I bought you greasy cheesy potatoes. Fabulous." Kurt rolls his eyes.
"No," he says, taking Kurt's hand and making sure he realizes that he is being serious before continuing. "Because you came with me today and didn't let me turn down a really good opportunity."
"Well somebody has to be there to stop you from being an idiot, I'm just glad it's me."
"It'll always be you." Blaine smiles, pulling Kurt's hand to rest on his heart... just like the song. "As long as you'll put up with me."
Kurt returns his sappy smile for a minute before pulling his hand back and taking Blaine's into both of his to play with. He likes to do this, take his hand and trace the all the lines on his fingers and palm.
"You're going to graduate soon," he says. "And come August, you'll start Columbia. You'll be in New York permanently before you know it. And we'll finally get to be able to be together forever."
Kurt pulls his hand up to his mouth to kisses the inside of his palm, right where his lifeline is.
"You realize that moments like this are the reason all of our friends call us corny," Blaine says, not caring in the least. He's with the boy he loves, what else matters.
"Everyone else is just jealous."
"Are you sure Rachel has to come over?" Blaine says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"I'm pretty sure you need your violin back," he replies, giving him a pointed look.
"Damn."
The car comes to a stop and he quickly opens the door for them to crawl out while Kurt pays the tab.
"Come on," he takes his hand when he's finished and drags him inside quickly. "If we hurry, I'll have just enough time to give you a blow job before she gets here."
"Kurt!" Blaine says, pretending to be scandalized. "What ever happened to my adorable baby penguin?"
"Do you want one or not?" Kurt laughs as they hurry to the elevator doors and press the up button.
"Is that a trick question," he asks as he's dragged onto the elevator with several other students. Kurt presses up against him and whispers in his ear.
"I'm really glad you got to come to New York."
"Me too," Blaine says, knowing he's wearing the goofiest smile ever.