"Blaine Warbler, I'm going to rock your world."
Kurt felt the blood drain from his face. It was just a kiss, he reassured himself, just a stupid kiss because of a stupid game shared by two stupid teenagers. He gulped down his emotions, his vision tunneling in on the sight in front of him.
For a brief moment, Kurt wondered if he had died on the spot. His body seemed to be glued to the floor, as if he was struck with an instant case for rigamortis. He couldn't blink. He was pretty sure he couldn't breathe. There was Rachel and Blaine joined at the lips, kissing like they were the people who discovered it, and…was that Blaine's hand threading through her hair? His chest was pounding and he could feel the eyes of his friends darting from him to the couple and back to him again.
This shouldn't be bothering him as much as it was. It was just Spin the Bottle, right?
Right?
As Rachel Barbra Berry grabbed the fabric of Blaine's shirt, declaring her discovery of talent worthy enough to be her equal, Kurt felt himself collapsing internally like a dying star. That's what he was now. A dying star. Rachel would once again pull the rug out from under him, get the guy he wanted, and win. Like she always did.
As the night wore on, Kurt didn't say much. He sat on the piano bench, arms crossed tightly against his chest, pulling faces of mock approval whenever Blaine looked in his direction. This wasn't fair. Rachel knew nothing of Blaine. She didn't know that he always get stressed right before an exam and needs some reassuring, no matter how prepared he gets. She didn't know that his favorite warm up was octave jumps. She didn't know anything about him.
"Time to go home Blaine," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.
Blaine and Rachel were entwined on the couch, whispering and giggling to each other. Public displays of affection always made Kurt a little sick and this was no exception. "Blaine!" he snapped, hands on his hips, "Let's go."
"Whaa-?" Blaine slurred.
"Time. To. Go. Home." This was getting old already.
"Oh! Blainey!" Rachel whined, "Don't go! Stay! Stay!"
Kurt cringed. "No Rachel," Kurt huffed, grabbing Blaine's forearm as he swung it out from under Rachel, "Blaine needs to go home. Now."
It wasn't until they were back in Kurt's Navigator that he realized Blaine couldn't go home. He had fallen asleep as Kurt was pulling out of Rachel's driveway and he reeked of alcohol. "Blaine," Kurt said, glancing over at his passenger, trying to ignore the traces of lipgloss on his cheeks and neck, "Blaine, I think you should spend the night at my house. You can drive home in the morning, after breakfast."
"Mmmfpph."
"I'll take that as a yes," Kurt replied, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
The Hummel/Hudson home was dark when Kurt pulled into the driveway, Finn's truck was already parked under the basketball hoop. Kurt groaned, leaning over and unbuckling Blaine, who was now softly snoring. "Come on Blaine," he said, his voice tinged with a little more ice than he'd care to admit, "Get up!"
Blaine opened his bleary, slightly bloodshot eyes and blinked at his new surroundings. "This isn't my house," he slurred.
"No. It's mine. Which is where you're staying for the night if you don't want your next house to be a casket."
He opened his door and walked around to Blaine's side and helping him out. Blaine's dead weight fell on top of him and Kurt grunted. But beneath the stench of alcohol, there was something else. The smell of Izod cologne, something unmistakably Blaine, and Kurt couldn't help but smile as he threw an arm over Blaine's shoulders and assisted him inside. "You have to be quiet," he hissed, "My parents are asleep."
They made it to Kurt's room, Blaine immediately dropping onto the comforter. "Mmm Kurt. Your bed is so soft."
"Yeah, thanks. Are you sure you don't want something more comfortable to sleep in?" Kurt questioned. Sleeping in tights jeans was never a good idea, no matter how good they looked.
"No, I'm fine," Blaine murmured, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow.
"Suit yourself," Kurt muttered under his breath as he sat down at his vanity to start his nightly skincare routine.
Kurt had imagined what it would be like to fall asleep next to another boy. And it was nothing like this.
Out of fear of merely touching Blaine, Kurt was on his back, arms stiff at his sides, staring up at the ceiling as Blaine contently slept next to him. He couldn't fall asleep. If he fell asleep, the desires that he tried so hard to repress would come to the forefront and he'd end up cuddling a drunk Blaine. And that just couldn't happen. He was still mad.
At this point, Kurt wasn't sure who he was mad at. Rachel, for pursuing it, or Blaine for playing along. Of course he was just playing along. He was drunk. He didn't mean it. He just didn't know better.
Kurt sighed and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. He needed to be as far away from Blaine as possible, though in this predicament, that wasn't going to be easy.
"I'd say 'bye' but I wouldn't want to make you angry."
For a split-second, Kurt had the urge to take Blaine's coffee cup and throw it at him. How dare he? How dare he? Yes, Kurt's rash judgment on bisexuality was wrong, but couldn't Blaine see where he was coming from? This wasn't about being bisexual, this really wasn't even about Rachel. Blaine was a mentor to Kurt and had grown into one of his dearest friends, but in the back of his mind, Kurt always hoped it would turn into something more. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he wanted too much.
He heaved a sigh, grabbing Blaine's abandoned coffee cup in his other hand. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said to the elderly couple who had been gawking at them from the start.
"Who cares about you, buddy? I'm going to get a new boyfriend out of this."
Kurt didn't even have time to be taken aback. He almost burst out laughing in Rachel's face, but instead took another sip from his latte. Deep down, he really did worry about Rachel. He knew Blaine was straight, but Rachel didn't. She was apparently already dreaming up what their future children would look like. The door to the Lima Bean shot open and Kurt stiffened. "There he is. Dreamy as ever."
"Wish me luck!" Rachel squeaked, applying one final coat of lip gloss.
Kurt did nothing of the sort. He gripped his coffee cup and stared. He just stared as Rachel pressed her face against Blaine's (Kurt wouldn't go as far as call it kissing) while his stomach dropped to his toes and his heart accelerated to an ever unhealthy speed. Time seemed to slow down. Rachel reached up and grabbed Blaine's shoulder, Kurt could see Blaine's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his back arch and Jesus Christ, could someone turn down the Carole King please?
"Huh. Yeah. I'm gay. 100% gay. Thank you so much for clearing that up for me Rachel!"
Kurt exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was right. He was right. He watched as Blaine turned in the direction of the bathrooms and got up to offer Rachel condolences she obviously didn't need. He was standing alone, completely dumbstruck, when Blaine returned. "Hey!" he said, that big goofy grin plastered on his face, "Where did Rachel go?"
"Oh, apparently she was hit with 'songwriting gold' and just had to leave," he said with a small smile.
"So it's just us?" Blaine asked, grinning wider.
"It's just us."
"Good," Blaine responded, "I missed us."
Kurt's heart lurched forward. Maybe Blaine wasn't so clueless after all.
There would be time for apologies and explanations later. But right now, Kurt wasn't letting anything get in the way of the joy that was radiating through every pore in his body.
I feel the earth move under my feet
I feel the sky tumbling down
Tumbling down
Tumbling down
Tumbling down
Tumbling down
Alright Carole King, you win this round.