"Dear Stranger"
A/N: Well, here it is! My first BABB fic. I did the KHBB last year, so I figured I'd do the BABB this year :) I hope you guys like it! And I'd like to thank both my amazingly patient beta (Cakerbee on tumblr) and my crazy talented artist (Batkonehat on tumblr).
Word Count: ~31.7k
Ship: Klaine
Rating: T (for violence)
Warnings: See above, also mentions of past suicidal thoughts
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: Blaine's a lost, lonely young man looking for a new home, a new start. Kurt's a wanderer who never had a home, never staying in one place long enough to leave an impression. But he leaves an impression on Blaine. And somehow, in all of his wandering and, yes, time traveling, he always finds his way back to Blaine. This is the story of how they both find their way back home—back to each other. TimeTraveler!Kurt. Runaway!Blaine.
Starting over, rebuilding everything from scratch. Blaine was going somewhere that no one knew him, running away—though he wouldn't use such strong words—from those who had burned him, scarred him, and broken his heart. He was starting fresh, using his savings to start a new life somewhere in Europe. He was thinking Paris or maybe Italy, but it didn't matter all that much—he was fluent in both languages, after all. Just so long as it was far, far away. But perhaps he could use a little help with romance in the city of love. He was nineteen years old, fresh out of high school, and he was so ready to find someone who would finally accept and love him for who he was.
Yes, this would be good for him.
"Gate A-13 is now boarding sections A-1 through A-25. Gate A-13 is now boarding sections A-1 through A-25."
Blaine picked up his luggage—a carry-on and his messenger bag; his other three suitcases were on the plane—and made his way to the designated section, waiting his turn to get on the plane. He'd been waiting almost an hour in the JFK National Airport and he was exhausted. He couldn't wait to get on the plane and sleep through the long flight to Paris. He couldn't wait to begin living again.
Once he was in his seat, his luggage packed away in the above-head storage and his seatbelt fastened, he took out his iPod and put his headphones in. He set his music to shuffle and closed his eyes, falling asleep peacefully.
He was awoken several hours later by someone tapping his shoulder and letting him know that the plane was about to land. He smiled and thanked them before wrapping his headphones around his iPod and putting the device back in his messenger bag. He stretched his back and yawned, feeling lighter than ever. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulder as the plane lifted off the ground. No more New York. He was moving on. France would be his home from now on, and he wasn't going to look back.
As he followed the line of people exiting the plane, he was buzzing with nervous energy, anxious to look around and find his footing in the city of love. Once he was out of the airport, he found the nearest taxi stand and caught a ride to a car dealership. Thanks to his parents and their insistence that he never have to—Heaven forbid—earn his money, he had nearly three million dollars saved up—his grandparents (many, many "greats" down the line of his mother's family tree) had been the start of the family's fortune, which came from a family business that grew and grew until everyone knew the Anderson name. They wanted him to have every opportunity possible… as long as it included having a "real career" and not doing what he loved. So, he'd taken the money out of his savings account and cut pretty much all ties with his parents so they wouldn't try to track him down—not that they would ever bother with something so inconvenient. That being said, he had plenty of money to buy a new car after exchanging his American currency for Euros—he ended up without about €1,975,000 after buying the truck. It wasn't anything too fancy, just a pick-up truck with a backseat and a covered truck bed, but he didn't need to go too crazy when he still had to find an apartment.
Once he had his car signed for, he realized he'd need a motel to stay in until he found a more permanent living place. "Excuse me?" he asked in French, catching the attention of one of the employees in the dealership lot. "Can you tell me where the nearest motel is?"
The woman smiled at him. "Yes, it's not very far from here," she said in English. Blaine smiled. He was glad that he knew how to speak French, but it did make things easier that many people here would probably speak English as well. "Just take a right out of the lot and keep going straight until you see it on your left. You're not from here, I guess?"
Blaine shook his head, still smiling politely. "No, I'm moving here from Ohio. But I took French classes all through high school so… I'm not completely hopeless."
She laughed, smiling kindly. "Well, I hope you like it here. Have a nice day."
Blaine nodded, waving goodbye before he walked to his car and climbed in, following her instructions and finding the motel easily.
He checked in and flopped down on the bed to take a nap almost the second he got to his room. He would bring all of his bags up to his room later—he'd carried only his smallest bag upstairs with him—but for now, he was prepared to relax and, for the first time in his life, not have to worry about anybody but himself.
Yes, he would definitely like living in Paris.
Kurt woke up, cold and exhausted. He looked around and realized that he'd done it again. He hadn't meant to, and yet he was in Paris though he'd been in L.A. a moment ago. He groaned in frustration and stood up, dusting himself off.
He walked out of the alley he'd ended up in, walking down the street until he found an apartment building with a sign indicating that there was an empty apartment. Of course, he didn't plan on signing a lease. He never stayed in one place long enough for something that bindingly permanent. He just needed someplace warm for a night or two. People usually didn't notice him.
As he was walking around to find the best place to climb up to the window, he saw a little shop and something inside caught his eye. Maps of different countries and continents were being sold in rolls, like posters. Getting an idea, Kurt grinned, walked inside, and purchased one of each different place. He had one for three continents—North and South America, Europe, Asia—and a few zoomed in views of some countries—France, Japan, India, Egypt, Italy, and Spain. He also got one large map that showed the entire world. With that, he dashed out of the building and found a wall that looked easy enough to scale—it was dark outside, so no one would notice him. He used uneven bricks, lower balconies, and window frames to his advantage and climbed up higher and higher until he found the vacant apartment on the fourth floor, smiling to himself when he found that it was unlocked.
He went inside and dropped the rolled up maps on the floor, turning on a lamp. Thank goodness for the showcase furniture, already arranged in the small studio apartment. He pulled down the hidden bed from its place in the wall and crawled under the covers gratefully. For the first time in weeks—no, months—Kurt could sleep in a real bed.
The next day, Kurt woke up and quickly sat up with a grin, remembering the maps he'd bought. With a grin and a feeling of excitement that he hadn't known in years, he unrolled each one and started arranging them. Glancing around to find the perfect space, he stared thoughtfully at the empty wall space in between the two windows and then at the space above the fireplace and the TV. He nodded to himself, smiling.
After digging through the drawers in the kitchen and finding some clear masking tape, Kurt got to work. He stood on the arm of the couch to put up a few pieces of map with tape at the corners—he put up the map of Asia, to the left and down, right next to the window; the map of North America went towards the top of the wall, centered; the map of South America went to the bottom right corner, filling that last stretch of space.
Looking over the rest of his maps and thinking about different ways to arrange them, he started switching them around where they were laid out on the floor, his forehead creased in concentration. Once he had a pretty good idea of how he wanted them, he started taping the maps onto the wall above the fireplace, standing on a chair to reach the higher places. The European map went towards the ceiling, centered, and the map of France was placed directly below that one. Next, he taped Spain to the left side of the wall, just above the TV, before putting of the Egyptian map above it. The last three went to the right side of the wall; Italy at the top corner, India just below it (lining up with where the France and Europe maps met), and Japan in the last square of space to the right of the fireplace.
Stepping back, he smiled at his work. Sure, this wasn't a permanent place to stay, but that didn't mean he couldn't pretend it was his home. It'd been a while since he'd had one of those.
Blaine awoke to a knock on the door, checking the time on the clock and noticing that it was nearly noon. Sitting up, he yawned and made his way to the door. He was still in the same clothes he'd been wearing since he got on the plane hours ago and his hair was a mess from sleeping on it. And yet, he opened the door. "Hi. Um, I mean… Salut," he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
It was a woman with a cleaning cart and she looked him over before speaking. "Cleaning services," she explained in French. "Is now a bad time?"
"No, not at all," Blaine said through another yawn, his French messy in his sleepy state. "I just arrived, though. There's not any cleaning to do besides the bed but I'll be using that for a while longer. Thank you."
She nodded and said she'd come back the next day before Blaine closed the door lightly. Then he returned to his bed, falling asleep almost instantly. The outside world could wait.
After using the rest of the day to make up for lost sleep, Blaine finale woke up again. He yawned and stretched his limbs, turning over in the rumpled bedspread to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. His eyes widened a little when he saw the time: 4:02 a.m.
He groaned a little and sat up, still tangled in the all-too-inviting blanket. He didn't want to get up, but he couldn't leave his bags in his car forever. So, he dragged his sleep-heavy body out of bed and into the bathroom. Splashing some water on his face and attempting to tame his somewhat wild curls, he felt more awake than he had a few moments before. Yawning once again, he smiled at the mirror before leaving the hotel room and heading to the parking garage; down the hall, to the left, and to the bottom floor via elevator.
He'd just opened the flip-up cover of the truck bed when he heard shouting to his left. He jumped a little and looked over, wide-eyed, to see a man stumbling towards him. He tensed up immediately, images flashing through his mind of a dark alley and sneering faces on what was supposed to be a fun night at a school dance. "W-What—"
The man started shouting angrily at him in French, barely understandable in his obviously-drunken state. Blaine froze, unable to do what he knew he should do; run.
"I-I don't want any trouble," Blaine squeaked, tears stinging his eyes. Why couldn't he just move?
The man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and he gasped, choking on air. He struggled as the stronger man shoved him against the side of the truck, hitting him against the metal a few more times.
Blaine couldn't breathe. Couldn't think, couldn't see, could hardly even hear anything besides his terrified cries.
"Stop, please stop!"
"Shut up, David!" the man said in French. Blaine frowned a little in confusion, shaking his head.
"I'm not, I-I—"
"Hey!" a new voice shouted. "Get off of him!" The newcomer was shouting in English, Blaine noticed, but it caught Blaine's attacker's attention anyway.
Suddenly, the man's grip on his shirt was lost and Blaine crumpled to the ground, almost sobbing with relief. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he finally managed to calm down and by the time he opened his eyes the man was gone. But Blaine wasn't alone. He startled when he heard a foot scraping against the concrete, looking up and gasping a little at what he saw. A stranger stood before him, looking beautiful and frightened all at once under the flickering lights of the parking garage.
This man, this stunning man, had saved him.
Blaine wanted to thank him, but the stranger was gone before Blaine could form the words, almost before he could even get a solid glance at him. But Blaine knew he would never forget that face; though he'd only seen him for a split-second in the light, those eyes would be impossible not to remember.
He was grateful for the memorable face, because he realized with a sudden surge of sadness that he would probably never see the man again.
Blaine wasted no time loading his three suitcases onto one of the hotel's rolling luggage racks and making his way back to his room. Once his bags were lined up next to the closet, he pulled his laptop out of his smallest bag and crawled into bed with the device on his lap. He wasn't sure what he was doing exactly, but he needed something to distract himself and he knew he couldn't sleep after the night he'd had. Besides, the clock read 5:22 a.m. so he knew there would soon be sunlight peeking through the worn out curtains.
His fingers hesitated over the keys.
What am I doing?
He sighed. He wanted to find some way to express his gratitude to the stranger that had saved him. He'd been frozen, unable to defend himself, and who knew what the man would've done if someone hadn't stopped him? Blaine didn't even want to think of it, because it brought back haunting memories of a school dance and a lost friend. And it was because of the kind stranger that Blaine hadn't been forced to relive that experience. He had to do something to explain how much that meant to him.
He had an idea, but it was crazy. He didn't even know the man. Hadn't even spoken a word to him before he'd disappeared—he still wasn't sure where he went or how, but that was something to think about some other time. Still, he wanted so badly to thank him. No matter how crazy the idea, he had to do something.
He opened Microsoft Word with a nervous exhale. His fingertips drummed uselessly over the keys for a moment before he began typing.
Dear Stranger,
I hope you won't think I'm crazy for doing this, even though I know you most likely won't see this at all. I also hope that you have some understanding of what your actions mean to me. The truth is that you may have even saved my life by making that man leave me alone. I was too terrified to move or think or even breathe. I don't know what the man was planning to do, or if he even had an actual plan, but I do know he was hoping to hurt me. In hindsight, I can see clearly that I should have run or fought back in some way, but at the time my vision was muddled with memories that I can't get into right now. (However, if these letters or whatever they are continue, I might just tell you why I was so much more terrified than I should have been.)
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful—so unbelievably grateful—for what you did. I'm not sure why you ran from me or even why you felt the need to save me, but I'm thanking my lucky stars that you came along. No one's ever bothered doing something like that for me.
He paused, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. Should he elaborate? He felt like he should offer some sort of deeper explanation as to why he was so grateful for the stranger's kind actions, but he really didn't want to start crying while writing this letter. This wasn't the time to get into the details of his past. The stranger would have to settle for vague references to his past… for now.
I'd rather not imagine the 'what if' of the situation, so I'm choosing to focus on the lasting image of your dimly-lit face and the mystery of why I can't get you out of my head.
Hesitating, Blaine deleted that last sentence. What are you thinking? he asked himself. It's not like he's ever going to see this. Write whatever you want. He typed the sentence again, with a few small changes.
I'd rather not imagine the 'what if' of the situation, so I'm choosing instead to focus on the memory of your face that's been seared into my mind and the question of why I can't get you out of my head.
That's better. (And far less creepy.)
Seeing as it's actually starting to brighten up outside, I think I'd better wrap this up. I need to go apartment hunting. I don't know if I'll continue writing to you or if I'll ever see you again. But if it ends with this letter, I want you to know that I'll never forget you. And if everyone here is as mysteriously wonderful as you—doubtful, I think—then I think I'm going to love Paris.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Blaine
Smiling a little, Blaine saved the document as Dear Stranger and closed his laptop, setting it aside on the nightstand. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 5:59 a.m. but he couldn't even feel embarrassed for spending over thirty minutes on his letter to the stranger. He figured the man who saved him deserved the most thoughtful response Blaine could offer.
After taking a shower and getting dressed—a white polo and a navy blue bowtie to match his skinny jeans—Blaine walked cautiously to his car, checking all around him just in case. Only when his truck pulled out of the garage did his hands stop trembling around the steering wheel.
He stopped at a nearby bakery and bought a strawberry jam-topped baguette for his breakfast, enjoying it with a delicious cup of orange juice.
After eating, Blaine got back in his car and pulled up the ad he'd saved on his phone. Studio apt. available—1 bath, 1 bed, wooden-floored dining/kitchen/living room, tile-floored bath, beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower, utilities accessible within studio— 1100/month leasing,200,000sale price.
After looking through some of the photos on the webpage, Blaine grinned and copied/pasted the address into his GPS app. He stopped at the nearest bank and deposited his money into a new account, setting up a card with the account before following the GPS to the apartment's address. He drove until he found a gorgeous building with several balconies sticking out in front. Practically bouncing with excitement, Blaine walked inside to the lobby area and approached the front desk. There was a sign hanging there that read Vacant Studio Apartment—200,000 for sale.
He cleared his throat and the woman at the desk looked up from her computer to smile at him. "Hello," she said in French. "How can I help you?"
Once again grateful for his lingual versatility, Blaine responded with a smile, "I saw the sign. I want to buy the vacant apartment. The one on the fourth floor?"
The woman nodded. "Yes, I can help you with that. Would you like to make a down payment or pay in full?"
"I'd like to pay in full, please. So…"
"The paperwork," the woman filled in, smiling. He thanked her and took the clipboard she handed him before going to sit down. He filled out the paperwork and wrote a check for €200,000 before bringing it all back to the desk. "Perfect," the woman said. "Thank you. You've signed everything you need to sign, but the check will have to clear before I can give you the keys. That should be ready in just a few days, if you'll come back then. I can give you a tour of the place, though," she added with a smile.
"I think I'll wait until it's my own for the tour," he said. "I saw the showcase apartment so I'll just wait, but thank you."
"All right," she nodded. "Well, come back in a few days and it'll be all yours."
"Great," Blaine said with a grin. "Thank you so much. I'll see you again soon."
With one last exchanged smile, Blaine left, driving back to his hotel with a grin. He hadn't been expecting everything to work out so soon but he was glad to put an end to his stay at the hotel and move on to something more permanent. So, in celebration, he decided to spend a day sightseeing. He walked to his car, glad for the light of day to take away some of the eeriness of the parking garage. Then, he drove towards the Eiffel Tower, feeling hopeful and excited. He saw a designated place to park on his way to the beautifully iconic building and pulled in, opting to walk the last bit of distance to the tower.
On his way, he took the time to thoroughly take everything in. This was his new home. There was no going back now. The thought was only slightly daunting, any doubt masked by the thrilling feeling of freedom and the fact that he could be whoever he wanted to be in the city of love.
Speaking of the city of love, maybe I'll even find someone to share this new life with. Maybe I'll find a stranger like the one who saved me.
Whoa. Where did that come from? Blaine's pace faltered and he frowned, once again picturing those stunning blue eyes. But he knew the chances of actually finding the man again were slim and it's not like he could just walk up to the stranger and say Hey, you probably saved my life. Want to get dinner with me sometime? He'd never been that kind of person—the kind who just puts it all out there—no matter how much he admired the romance in it and wished he could be that person.
Besides, he didn't have to worry about finding his other half when he was still figuring out how to piece his own life together. One step at a time.
He was figuring things out. A new life, a new city, a new beginning. He had so many things he needed to do, but for now? He figured that spending the morning watching the sun shine on the Eiffel Tower wasn't a bad place to start.
What were you thinking? What part of 'stay under the radar and don't make connections' do you not understand? Why can't you just leave things be without interfering?
Kurt asked himself the same questions over and over again and came up with the same answer every time. It's because I care too much. And it's not like he could have just left him there. A man he didn't even know had been in trouble and Kurt had acted on instinct, unable to stand by and watch him be hurt.
But he saw me and I'm such an idiot. How could he have been so careless? But more importantly, why couldn't he stop thinking about the curly-haired stranger?
It didn't matter why. What mattered was getting him out of his head because he couldn't afford to get close to anyone. It would only bring pain. He knew from experience, which was why he did his best to minimize the hurt that he caused. If no one cared for him, no one would be hurt by losing him.
He didn't know how long he'd been running when he finally got back to the un-owned studio apartment, but he climbed up to the balcony and crawled into bed again. He figured he could get a few hours of sleep and maybe he could manage to avoid dreams about the man with hazel eyes and dark, curly hair.
Of course, he knew before he even fell asleep that it was useless to hope. But he couldn't deny that he was at least a little bit pleased to get another look at the beautiful stranger.
As long as it was only in his dreams, it was fine. That way, he wasn't hurting anyone but himself.
Kurt spent the next few days mostly inside the apartment, unable to stop thinking about the stranger and how much he wished he could see him again. It was a bad idea and he knew it, but that didn't change the fact that he was drawn to him. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stay away.
One morning, a few days after finding the place, he woke up and stretched his limbs before stowing the bed in the wall again and making some coffee—thank goodness this place had a coffeemaker already in the kitchen, complete with all different brands and creamers. He sat down at the table with his mug in hand, humming as it warmed his exhausted body. He brought it up to his lips to take a sip but he almost dropped the mug entirely when he heard the sound of the elevator nearing the apartment. He gasped and looked around for a place to hide, panicking at the notion of being caught. Anywhere he hid, he'd be found if this was someone being given a tour of the place. He figured he had about 4 seconds—if he was lucky—before the door would open and he'd be seen.
Think, Kurt, think! They can't see you or you'll be back to where you started.
He looked over to the window and lit up with an idea. Fumbling with the lock for a second, he opened the window and climbed out onto the balcony, taking his coffee with him. He stood to the side of the window with his back pressed against the brick wall, out of sight.
The door opened and Kurt held his breath.
Blaine was practically bouncing on his toes as he followed the friendly woman into the elevator that led up to his new apartment on the fourth floor. The woman scanned a keycard and pressed a button before the elevator began its ascent.
The ding of the elevator to let them know that they'd reached the right place startled Blaine and he grinned as he waited for the door to open. It creaked a little but didn't budge and Blaine's smile faltered.
"I'm sorry," the woman said in French, smiling apologetically. She gave the door a good hit with her fist and it dinged! again before opening. "It does that from time to time. Just give it a solid smack and it'll open up," she told him with a kind smile. "Would you like a tour of the place or can you manage?"
"I think I'm okay for now," Blaine said. "I'll just… get settled. Familiarize myself with the place and whatnot. Thank you."
"You're welcome," she said, handing over the keycard. "It's all yours. I—" she stopped, catching a glimpse of the wall between the windows. "That's odd. Those maps… I don't remember them being there last time the place was inspected. I'm so sorry—I'll take them down right away—"
"No, don't," Blaine said softly, smiling curiously, as he looked around in wonder. "It's fine for now. I'll take them down if they become a bother."
She looked uncertain but nodded anyway. "Okay. The number for the front desk is on the table if you need it. Enjoy."
With that, she left and Blaine found himself alone in the quiet of his new home. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and smiling as he took it all in. Home. He could get used to that.
He walked slowly, pondering, over to one of the tall windows, opening it up and stepping out onto the balcony. He heard a soft gasp to his left and startled, turning quickly only to see a familiar, frightened pair of blue eyes. With a gasp of his own, he said, "It's you! I—"
"I'm so sorry," the stranger fussed, backing up until his back was to the railing. "I'll just—I have to—"
Without another word, he was gone, vanished before Blaine's eyes. Blinking in disbelief, he put his hand on the railing where the mysterious man's hand had been just seconds before. "Where'd you go?" he wondered in a whisper, glancing around hopelessly.
Sighing, saddened by yet another missed chance to convince his strange new… friend to stick around, he went back inside. He left the window open… just in case.
Blaine spent the majority of the evening unpacking and putting things away in the closet, the bathroom, the kitchen, etc. Then, once he realized that it was getting dark out, he pulled the bed down from the wall and crawled under the covers. But he didn't fall asleep right away, transfixed by the assorted maps taped up on the walls. He wondered if Stranger—that's what he'd decided to call him, since he didn't know his name; why hadn't he asked what his name was?—had put them up; now that he thought about it, he most likely had. But he wondered why. He also wondered why Stranger just… disappeared. That shouldn't be possible, and yet…
Rubbing his eyes, frustrated, Blaine pulled his laptop down from one of the shelves in the wall. He pulled up Microsoft Word and drummed his fingers lightly against the keys as it loaded. Once he'd opened the Dear Stranger document, he began typing.
Dear Stranger,
I saw you again. You looked frightened, though I don't know why. I wish I could assure you that I'd never hurt you, but you've yet to stick around long enough. I wish you would. I wish I knew your name, too. I wish a lot of things but you probably don't care and it's probably all hopeless.
There was one good thing to come out of it, though. I got to see your eyes—I mean, really see them. The first time, it was dark and the light was flickering on your face and shining in your eyes so it was hard to see. But in the sunlight, your eyes are even more radiant—I'm just sad that they still look so haunted and so… scared. I wish I could help make your fears go away. I wish I knew where to find you now that you've disappeared again. And there I go with the wishing again…
I would apologize for the pointless rambling, but I'm sure you'll never read this, anyway, so what's the point? I saw you again by sheer luck and I doubt I'll be so lucky again. I doubt I'll ever address these letters with anything other than 'Dear Stranger' because I still don't know your name. I hope that, someday, I'll be able to call you something real. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that you are real at all.
But you'd have to be, wouldn't you? I mean, I saw you. I heard you, too. And I saw what you did to the living room—I like it, by the way; it's a nice touch—so I can't possibly be imagining you. But real people don't just vanish into thin air…
I just want so badly to believe that you're real. Please tell me you're real and please tell me I'm not crazy for chasing after someone I can never have; for wanting someone to care about me.
(That sounded creepy… I'm sorry. I would take it back but it's the truth, so… I can't.)
Anyway, this letter turned out longer than I expected, and I probably should get some sleep. I just hope you don't vanish from my dreams as well.
Sincerely,
Blaine
That night, Blaine dreamt of the beautiful stranger. Now that he had a clearer image of him in his head—it was easier to see him in the light of day—he could vividly picture his eyes. Oh, those eyes. They were even more stunning with the sunlight to illuminate them. Blaine wished he had any drawing skills whatsoever so he could permanently capture the beautiful blue eyes, but he knew that no drawing could ever do them justice. And he also knew that he would never forget what they looked like.
Unfortunately, he only knew what they looked like when the man was scared. He didn't understand why the man looked so terrified whenever he saw him. He wanted to understand so that he could try to take away the fear and see him smile. He imagined he'd have a beautiful smile. In his dreams, he spent hours making him smile and listening to him laugh, but he could never conjure the actual sight or sound since he'd never actually witnessed either. He hoped he would someday.
He woke up suddenly the next morning, much too early, and felt the emptiness engulf him as he accepted the lack of the mysterious stranger's presence. Someone so distant should not be so important to him, and yet… he couldn't stop thinking about him.
Blaine spent the majority of the day in his new home, unpacking and generally getting to know his way around the place. He picked up a local map from the front desk before heading out to find someplace to eat. As he walked along the mostly empty streets, he realized that there was probably a better means of transportation aside from walking. He looked at the map and found a nearby bicycle shop, quickly making his way towards it.
Once he bought a decent bike (about 220 Euros), he felt a lot more comfortable in the city and he felt like he was finding his bearings more easily than he ever expected.
He supposed most people would probably feel regret for buying an expensive new car only to get a bike that would, more often than not, be used as a substitute. But he knew he could live quite comfortably off of his savings for quite some time, and once he found a job he'd be more than well off for a very long time. He wasn't worried.
Riding along the sidewalk on his bike, he found the bakery he'd gone to the other day. He guessed he'd probably end up there more often than not on cool mornings such as that one. It was nice to feel the barely chilled air against his face contrasting so nicely with the steam of his favorite coffee, evening it all out with a fresh baguette and a cozy sweater.
Lost in the familiar sensation of the steamy coffee flowing smoothly down his throat, he barely noticed when someone sat down in the seat across from him. He startled a bit when that someone cleared their throat. He opened his eyes and saw the young, dark-haired man in front of him smiling. Why, he wasn't sure, but the look in the man's eyes gave him a pretty good idea. Besides, he was cute, so it wasn't like Blaine was going to make him leave. He smiled back, curious. "Um… Bonjour?"
The man's face lit up. "Bonjour!" He started introducing himself, in French, and Blaine couldn't help but grin at the man—whose name he now knew to be Gabriel. His enthusiasm was infectious.
"Je m'appelle Blaine," he responded. "I'm not from here," he added, still in French.
"Oh!" Gabriel laughed. "But you know French, yes?" he asked in English, his French accent endearing.
Blaine grinned. "I do. I studied it in high school but I'm a bit out of practice," he answered in English. Then, in French, he said, "But now I have a reason to start using it again."
"You're very good," Gabriel said with another bright grin. It seemed that they were falling completely into using French. After that, conversation came easily. They talked and talked about their interests and—vaguely—their pasts, Blaine unwilling to dive too deeply into anything involving his family.
"So, how long have you been in Paris?" Gabriel asked, tacking on a charming smile that left Blaine blushing just slightly.
"Not long," he said. "A few days, actually. I just… needed to get away. From my family, from my life, from everything. I couldn't take it anymore."
Gabriel nodded, sensing it was a sensitive subject. Blaine was grateful he didn't push for more. He smiled and sipped his coffee before asking, "What about you, Gabriel? Have you lived here your whole life?"
"Born and raised," he shrugged. "But I've studied English and I've always wanted to visit the States."
Blaine nodded. "Maybe we can go someday," he hedged, testing the waters. As long as we steer clear of my parents, he almost said.
Gabriel's face lit up. "That sounds fun! I'd love to go with someone who knows his way around."
Blaine was a bit taken aback by the fact that Gabriel wasn't surprised by the offer. Maybe it was the romantic in Blaine that made him say things like that so early on, but he'd never seen such a positive reaction. "Great," he said with a smile.
Just then, Gabriel's phone buzzed and he apologized before checking it, sighing when he did. He looked up at Blaine apologetically. "That's my sister. She's in town for just a few days and I'm supposed to be meeting her soon. I'm sorry we couldn't talk more."
"It's no problem," Blaine assured. "Um…" They both hesitated, neither really wanting to leave just yet.
"Uh…" Gabriel spoke nervously. "Can I… have your number, maybe? I'd like to see you again."
Surprised but not displeased, Blaine nodded with a kind smile. "Yes… Uh…" he trailed off, awkwardly gesturing to Gabriel's cell phone in his pocket. Gabriel seemed to understand what he meant and handed the device over so Blaine could put his number in the contacts list. When he handed it back to Gabriel, the man lit up once more and thanked him before leaving in an excited rush. Blaine found it surprisingly adorable. He was so glad he'd taken the time to get a Parisian phone early on. Who knew Parisian boys would be so adorably charming?
Still grinning, Blaine tossed his empty cup and made his way outside, unchaining his bike and riding towards the park. He didn't really have much to do today, so he decided the park was the perfect place to daydream about his new… friend? More than that? He wasn't sure, but he definitely saw potential.
He didn't think about his other mysterious friend for the rest of the day.
The next two weeks went by in a flurry of flirty texts, sort-of-not-really-dates, shy glances, and even more distractions. Blaine found that he liked Gabriel more and more every time they saw each other or spoke to each other. He was funny, smart, handsome, and he never dug for answers from Blaine even though Blaine knew that Gabriel saw something in his eyes when they talked about family. That, Blaine thought, was what he liked most about Gabriel. He simply wasn't in a good place to talk about his parents or anyone from his old life. Not yet.
That was another distraction, though; thinking about his parents.
However, no matter what he did with Gabriel during the days, he was always left alone with his thoughts when he went home every night. No matter how many times he told himself that he should stop obsessing over a stranger whom he'd only met twice, he couldn't stop himself from writing to said stranger almost every night. Sometimes he would just write about his day or ask questions he didn't actually believe would ever be answered, but he never mentioned Gabriel. Something about combining the two aspects of his life—Gabriel and the fascinating stranger—felt wrong. It felt so deeply wrong that the thought made him feel sick, though he couldn't pinpoint why, exactly.
He just knew that the letters were precious, and the nameless stranger even more so. They weren't to be shared with anyone except their recipient and they weren't to be crossing blurred lines with anything else in Blaine's life.
And that—the feeling of sacredness and must protect—was enough for him.
He'd almost come to the conclusion that it would always have to be enough when, out of nowhere, he ran into the stranger again. He was spending the afternoon in one of his favorite places—at the top level of the Eiffel Tower—when he looked to his left and saw a familiar face. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat before he was able to form words. "Uh… Excuse me?" he asked, getting the man's attention. When the man turned and saw him, eyes widening, Blaine knew he recognized him. "Hi," he said, smile slowly growing.
"I…" The stranger looked around, glancing at the small crowd of people around them. It was like he was looking for an escape and couldn't find one. Blaine's heart sank.
"I… I'm sorry. It's just… we keep running into each other. First you save my life; then you're in my apartment. Now you're here. I just… want to know who you are."
The man sighed, finally meeting Blaine's eyes. "I… I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to get hurt."
"That doesn't make any sense," Blaine said, shaking his head. "Can I at least know your name?"
The man seemed about ready to reject that request, too, but he hesitated. Apparently decided it was harmless, he said, "My name's Kurt."
Blaine felt his face split into a grin. "Kurt. It's so nice to finally put a name to that face." He hesitantly stepped closer, carefully reaching for Kurt's hands. He smiled, relieved, when Kurt didn't pull away immediately. "I'm Blaine, in case you were wondering."
Kurt stared at their hands before suddenly pulling away, shaking his head. "I…"
"Please don't run away this time," he murmured.
"I… I'm sorry. I have to—"
Then he was gone, and Blaine immediately felt empty without Kurt's hands linked with his. He looked around and no one seemed to have noticed Kurt's presence except for him.
The next instant, he felt guilty.
Gabriel. The second he'd seen Kurt, he'd forgotten all about Gabriel, and he felt horrible about it. They weren't exactly dating, but Blaine had been pretty sure it was headed that way. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. He'd felt something when he touched Kurt's hand; he'd felt a spark and he'd felt chemistry. As great as Gabriel was and as much fun as they had, Blaine just didn't feel that when he was with him.
He sighed, frustrated. This was ridiculous. He'd barely had a conversation with Kurt and yet he felt more connected to him than he'd ever felt to anyone else. It was weird, and he knew that, but that was how he felt.
He really needed to go home. He needed time to think.
He always thought most clearly while writing his letters to Kurt—he knew his name now, which caused excitement to bubble up as he pulled out his laptop and settled down onto his bed. He opened the Dear Stranger document and started typing.
Dear Stranger,
No, he didn't want to call him that anymore. Kurt. His name was Kurt. Blaine grinned.
Dear Kurt,
I saw you at the Eiffel Tower today and it was amazing. You were more gorgeous than I remember and I still can't believe you stayed long enough to tell me your name. Still, is it selfish of me to wish you would have stayed a little longer?
I don't think so. But it is, perhaps, a bit unfair to everyone involved. You see, there's this guy; his name is Gabriel.
He paused. He'd never mentioned Gabriel in the letters before. But maybe it was time to tell Kurt about Gabriel. He probably wouldn't end up giving the letters to Kurt until the man already knew who Gabriel was, so what was the harm in venting?
But the thought of bringing Gabriel into this part of his life where he felt so peaceful… it felt strange. But he couldn't seem to get either of the men—Gabriel or Kurt—off of his mind. Would he really have to make a choice between the two? He knew the answer to that, even if it terrified him. He just couldn't keep things going with Gabriel when he still so desperately wanted to find Kurt again. It wasn't fair.
He would have to choose. Wrapping his mind around that realization, he continued writing, hoping to find some answers.
I really like him, and I know he likes me, but every time I think something is going to happen, I think of you and I just can't go through with it. I feel awful about it, but I can't help myself. I can't stop thinking about you… And maybe I don't really want to. Now that I've had the chance to talk to you, however briefly, I know with certainty that I can't lose you. I want to know more. I want to know you. And I hate to hurt Gabriel in the middle of it, but I don't know what else to do.
And maybe I'll never see you again. Maybe you'll be just another hopeful memory. But maybe not. Maybe not.
Maybe it's crazy, but I choose you.
So maybe Gabriel can be a friend and nothing more. Maybe I'll just keep waiting for you. But I don't mind waiting. I think you're worth it.
Maybe Yours,
Blaine
Blaine set his computer aside and sank down in his bed, sighing happily. He always felt at ease after writing to Kurt. It made him feel less alone.
Now that he thought of it, Kurt made him feel less alone. When he'd held Kurt's hands, he'd felt fantastic. He'd felt more whole than he had ever felt in his entire life. And when he was gone, so was that feeling. He felt empty without Kurt there. And writing the letters made him feel like he was actually talking to Kurt. It felt so personal and intimate; it felt real.
His thoughts surrounded Kurt so wholly that he almost forgot about Gabriel's role in the situation. He sighed sadly.
He'd never felt that sense of completeness with Gabriel. And he doubted he ever would. Gabriel was his friend, but that was all they would ever be. He didn't want to hurt him, but he'd made his decision. In fact, he was going to tell Gabriel the next time he saw him.
Things got a little more complicated, however, when—in the third week—Gabriel asked Blaine a question that he wasn't ready for.
"Will you be my boyfriend?"
Despite his best efforts to remain calm, the question caused a sudden rise of panic to consume him. No, no, I can't, no. His mind was screaming at him and his heart was assaulting his mind with images of blue eyes—so starkly different from Gabriel's brown ones—and with thoughts of someday.
"I… I…" Blaine couldn't speak, could only stare at Gabriel and see a different face in its spot. He didn't want to hurt him.
"Blaine, are you okay?" he asked, worry lining his features, and Blaine's heart ached. This wasn't fair. To him or to Gabriel.
Blaine shook his head. "No… No, I'm… I'm sorry. I can't."
A mixture of confusion, hurt, and dejectedness crossed Gabriel's face and Blaine's heart ached even more. "Blaine, I really care about you. I thought you felt the same way."
"I'm so sorry, Gabe," Blaine said.
"Is there someone else?"
Blaine hesitated. He wanted to immediately say that there was no one else, because he hated what that implied. He would never cheat. But then he saw those blue eyes again and he couldn't bring himself to say it. Even if he wasn't exactly with Kurt, he knew that he'd gone too far for any of it to be entirely innocent.
His hesitance was enough of an answer for Gabriel.
Trying to hide his now-angry tears, Gabriel stood up from his seat. "I never thought you were the kind of guy to do something like that," he said harshly, glaring at Blaine before turning and walking out of the restaurant.
Blaine felt horrible. Why hadn't he connected the dots when Gabriel had invited him to such a nice restaurant and told him that he had a surprise for him? He'd ignored all the signs that Gabriel wanted to make their relationship more serious, but Blaine wasn't ready for anything like that and he liked spending time with Gabriel. He did care about him. And now he'd hurt him and he felt like a horrible person.
He walked home, because he'd gotten a ride to the restaurant with Gabriel. It took him about ten minutes, and he collapsed on his bed as soon as he got home. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and he just wanted to sleep.
In his dreams, he could see Kurt without feeling guilty. He could be happy.
The next week wasn't much better. Gabriel ignored his texts and his calls. Going to his favorite bakery didn't help because he usually saw Gabriel there, but the man ignored him. It all made him feel even worse.
The only time he really felt happy that week was when he was writing his letters. It calmed him and he almost felt like he was actually talking to someone. Until he remembered they couldn't talk back.
It had been a week since he'd seen Kurt and it scared him that it was getting harder to picture his face. What if he ended up as just another vague memory?
He started to fall asleep with that thought in mind, and there were tear tracks on his face when he finally lost consciousness.
Kurt hadn't stopped thinking about Blaine since their encounter at the Eiffel Tower. He'd gotten scared and he'd disappeared, even though he really hadn't wanted to. He had tried so hard to stay, but sometimes his nerves got the best of him, his heart sped up, and he just couldn't control it at all.
It'd been two weeks since he'd seen Blaine. He'd tried a few times to find Blaine again, but he never could. It's not like he could just show up at his apartment; that'd be a bit much. He had to think of a better way to talk to Blaine.
He'd decided that it wasn't worth staying away. He felt empty without Blaine near him, and he knew that Blaine wanted him to stay. He just wanted to get to know him. He wanted to put a crack in his walls after years of only fortifying them; and as much as it scared him, he had a feeling that Blaine would help him take those walls down brick by brick, rather than smashing them down by force.
It was only a few days later that he realized Blaine had some walls to pull apart as well.
He was walking into an unfamiliar bakery when he saw a familiar set of dark curls. He frowned when he saw that Blaine's head was buried in his arms and his shoulders were shaking where he sat at a table in the back corner. Without really thinking about it, he walked over and sat down beside him. "Blaine?"
Blaine startled, sitting up and looking over to see Kurt watching him with concern. He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and ran off to the bathroom. Kurt followed him. It was a one-stall bathroom and Kurt heard quiet, muffled cries coming from inside the locked stall. "Blaine? Please talk to me. I'm not going anywhere this time."
The crying paused, a sniffle interrupting the silence. "Really?"
"Really," Kurt promised. It didn't matter that he couldn't keep that promise. What mattered was making sure Blaine was okay.
Another sniffle. Then the click of the door unlocking and Blaine stepped out, wiping his puffy, red eyes on his sweater sleeve. "Hi," he said softly.
"Hi," Kurt answered. "So, can you tell me what's wrong?"
Blaine hesitated. Kurt wasn't sure why that was, but he waited patiently until Blaine was ready to tell him.
"I feel like a horrible person," Blaine finally confessed, and Kurt's heart ached.
"Blaine… What makes you think that?" he asked, tentatively grabbing Blaine's hand. Blaine latched onto him and squeezed his hand.
Once again, Blaine hesitated, shaking his head. "I… I hurt someone. Well… I was sort of dating this guy—his name's Gabriel—but I couldn't stop thinking about you. When he asked me to be his boyfriend, I said no because I didn't think it was fair to either of us. And when he asked if there was someone else, I thought of you. He's so mad at me, and I hurt him. I'm a horrible person," he said before stepping forward and burying his face in Kurt's shoulder, letting Kurt's arms curl around him.
Kurt's eyes widened and he started to rub Blaine's back. "Blaine… You aren't a horrible person. You stopped it before you could begin a half-hearted relationship, and that's important. Once he does his grieving, he'll realize it was for the better."
Blaine sniffled, nodding against Kurt's shoulder. "I… I hope so." He looked up, meeting Kurt's eyes. "Why are you here? I mean, why did you follow me? You don't even know me."
"That's true… but I knew you were upset about something and I wanted to help. I feel… connected to you. And I couldn't stand to see you hurting."
Blaine managed a tiny smile. "Does that mean you're going to stop running away from me?"
"It means I'm going to try," Kurt said, earning a look of confusion from Blaine. "I can't make any promises."
Blaine still seemed confused. "I'd really like to get to know you, though. If that's okay."
Kurt felt warmth spread throughout his chest and he smiled. It'd been so long since someone had wanted him to stay. "I'd love that," he said. "How does coffee sound to you?"
"I think that sounds perfect," he said with a grin.
So, they left the small bathroom and went to the counter to order their coffee and a couple of pastries. They sat down at a table that was blanketed in a comforting ray of sunshine, smiling at each other across the table. For Blaine, it was a relief to not have to chase him down. For Kurt, it was comforting to finally accept that it was no use running away. He would always find his way back, and he now knew that that was what he wanted.
"So, about the getting to know me," Kurt began, leaving the topic open. Blaine smiled, grateful for a place to start.
"Well, I'm guessing you're not from Paris," Blaine said.
"You guess right," Kurt chuckled. "I'm originally from the States. Ohio, actually."
Blaine's eyes widened. "Are you serious? I'm from Ohio, too!"
They both laughed. "Wow," Kurt said. "So what made you decide to leave?"
"Uh… Family troubles," he said vaguely.
Kurt's smile fell slightly, concerned. "What do you mean?"
"I'd rather not get into it."
"But—"
"Please," Blaine said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "Please… just don't."
Kurt sighed. "All right."
They were silent for a moment before Blaine asked, "What about you? Why'd you leave Ohio? Besides the obvious reasons."
Kurt smiled, glad that he hadn't completely ruined Blaine's cheery mood. "Well, at first I wanted to go to New York. But things changed and I just… couldn't. So I stayed with my dad for a while before I started travelling. I guess I never really have a destination in mind; I just don't know what else to do. I've never had much of a reason to stay in one place."
The statement felt heavy with meaning, as if Blaine was going to be his reason to stay. He didn't know if he'd be able to ground himself quite that much, but he at least had a reason to try.
"Well, you seem to like Paris quite a bit," Blaine said, smiling again. "Though I haven't really seen you around all that much. I'd kind of like to know where you keep disappearing to."
"All sorts of places," Kurt said with a nervous laugh. "I… I really am sorry about that. I don't mean to run away every time we meet. It just sort of… happens."
"You really are something of a mystery to me, Kurt," Blaine said, smiling curiously. "I feel like I hardly know you, and yet you've got me fascinated every minute of every day. It's almost as if I've known you forever, though I'm sure I haven't. I would've remembered meeting you before."
"Do you always talk like you're a prince from some kind of fairytale?" Kurt asked, breathless.
Blaine chuckled. "Only around you, I think. I can't remember ever feeling so… poetic." But he had to remind himself not to say too much. If he wasn't careful, he'd give away the letters with a ribbon made from his heartstrings. He wasn't quite ready for that kind of soul-bearing. And yet, here he was, waxing poetic just like he did while writing his letters to Kurt.
"Well, I certainly feel special," Kurt said with a slight laugh.
"You should," Blaine agreed, smiling softly.
They stayed silent for a while, just smiling nervously at each other, until Blaine's watch beeped with an alarm and he looked down at the time regretfully. Before he could say anything, Kurt nodded in understanding. "You've got to go," he said. "It's okay. I'll… see you around, I guess."
Blaine stood up, fiddling his fingers nervously. "Can I get your number? I'd rather not lose you again."
Kurt sighed, standing up. "I don't really carry a phone with me. But I'm sure you'll be seeing me soon. We always seem to run into each other eventually."
Blaine smiled, though he was reluctant to leave. "I'll see you around, then." Before he could psych himself out of it, he threw his arms around Kurt's shoulders in a quick hug. It lasted barely two seconds but it made both of them feel warm inside and out. "I'll… see you."
"I'll see you," Kurt agreed, smiling to himself as he watched Blaine leave. There was no way he was going to be able to stay away from that man. And he didn't even want to.
Blaine went home that night and flopped onto his bed with a happy sigh, feeling warm all over. There was no way he was going to lose Kurt again. He wouldn't let that happen.
That night, he didn't feel the need to write a letter. Because now he had something even better; he had Kurt.
Kurt didn't know where he was. He only knew that it was cold, he was wearing nothing but pajama pants and a t-shirt, and he was scared. He was scared and so, so cold.
He tried looking around at his surroundings but was almost entirely blinded by the snow storm raging on around him. He walked weakly and painfully through the harsh wind, hoping to find any kind of shelter or help.
But he was lost. And his tears froze just seconds after they reached his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. But he had to do something or he was going to die out here. He fell to the ground with a gasp as his half-frozen legs gave out on him; he could almost feel the last bits of warmth seeping out of him.
He curled in on himself, hoping that he would lose consciousness before the worst of it. He'd heard that you slowly became delirious the closer you got to death, but he was still very much aware of his situation. Cold. Lost. Dying. Help. In his last few moments of sanity, he thought of his dad. He thought of the very few loved ones that he'd let into his little circle. Then he thought of the one person he wished he could let in.
He saw the face of the man he'd saved in that parking garage. The man who had moved into the apartment that Kurt had been staying in. The man who begged him not to go and actually made him want to stay.
He saw the man's face in a blurry picture before his vision went dark…
It was two weeks before Blaine saw Kurt again.
Blaine was shocked awake by a loud crashing sound. He sat up with a gasp, looking around, and saw a dark figure on the floor by his couch. He squinted to get a closer look and his eyes widened because he recognized that face. He shot out of bed and rushed over to the man on the floor, noticing that he was shivering violently and barely hanging on to consciousness.
Blaine reached out to touch the man's arm and pulled his hand away quickly, cursing under his breath. His skin was freezing. And he looked paler than Blaine had ever seen anyone look. He had to warm him up.
He lifted Kurt up onto his mattress and covered him with the blanket before running over to his closet and grabbing warm pajamas for him. When he returned to the bed, Kurt's eyes were open to slits. "C-C-C-Cold…" he whispered, his voice raw. Blaine nodded and pushed his stiff hair out of his face.
"I know," he said tenderly. "I'm gonna take care of you, okay? Let's get you into some warm clothes." He didn't protest when Blaine started undressing him so he could put the warm clothes on instead. Once he was redressed, Blaine hurried to light the fireplace. Once that was done, he picked up the shivering man along with the blanket he was tangled up in and carried him over to sit in front of the fire. He helped him get situated with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders before sitting down beside him and letting him rest his head on Blaine's shoulder.
"T-Thank y-y-y-you," he whispered through chattering teeth, turning his face into Blaine's neck and letting Blaine pull him closer.
Blaine just smiled softly and rubbed his back as the shivering slowly died down. His skin was warming up and he was more relaxed in Blaine's hold. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently.
"Better," he said before coughing into his arm. Blaine continued to rub his back, using his other hand to massage feeling back into Kurt's hands. "Thank you… again. You saved my life."
"It's the least I could do after you saved mine," Blaine replied softly and the man looked at him, slightly confused and touched but mostly sad. He pulled away and wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Blaine frowned, confused and hurt and slightly panicked. "I'm… I'm sorry. Please don't disappear again."
"I won't," he said softly. "Not on purpose, at least."
"I don't know what that means," Blaine said, almost pleadingly. "I… I can't believe you're here again. I was starting to think I wouldn't see you again."
"Apparently I couldn't stay away," Kurt said with another small, sad smile. When he looked over, he saw that Blaine was staring at him with a look of awed disbelief. "What?" he asked. Blaine didn't look away, though, and Kurt blushed.
Blaine's smile grew soft. "It's just… I'm so glad you're here. I'm glad you're safe."
Kurt turned his head away but not before Blaine saw his face crumble. Blaine frowned, worried. "What's wrong?"
"I wasn't supposed to let you get close," he said brokenly. "It'll only get you hurt."
"I don't mind," Blaine insisted, determined not to let him go this time. "I—"
"I can't do that to you, Blaine," Kurt snapped. "I can't hurt you."
Blaine wasn't sure why Kurt was so adamant to keep himself away from Blaine, but he knew that he couldn't just leave. Last time he'd seen Kurt, he'd been willing to get to know Blaine. Now he was acting weird. "Maybe you don't have to. Maybe I'll be the one who's hurting me. Don't I get any say in wanting you in my life?"
Kurt's resolve was cracking. Over the past few weeks, he'd gone back and forth between wanting to keep Blaine at a safe distance and wanting to keep him as close as possible. He'd done so well in the past few years to make sure no one got close enough to care. But something about Blaine made it impossible to stay away. Scooting closer to Blaine, he reached up to hold his face tenderly between his hands.
"W-What are you doing?" Blaine asked shakily.
"What I didn't get to do last time," he answered. Before Blaine could ask what he meant, Kurt was kissing him, gentle and sweet and wet with tears. Once Blaine was past the initial shock, he reached up to curve his palm gently over the side of Kurt's neck as his thumb stroked Kurt's jaw.
When he felt Kurt pulling away, his eyelids fluttered open and he tried to pull Kurt gently back to him. He saw Kurt smile at him through his tears and Blaine leaned in to kiss away those tears. "I'm sorry," Kurt whispered as Blaine kissed across each of his cheeks. Blaine frowned at the words, though, and pulled back slightly.
"What are you sorry for?"
"Not being able to stay away from you any longer," Kurt said.
Blaine relaxed into a smile and reached out to hold Kurt's hand. "I don't think I could've handled much more of this 'staying away' business. I was starting to forget what you looked like. I can't keep going weeks without seeing you. It makes everything so much darker when you aren't with me."
At that, Kurt smiled and it made Blaine grin even brighter.
"I don't know what it is about you," Kurt said softly, reaching up to gently stroke his thumb across Blaine's cheek. Blaine closed his eyes, covering Kurt's hand with his own. "I've always been able to stay away from people because it's what I'm supposed to do. But with you… I just can't. I feel like I've been waiting for you for so long and now that I've found you, I don't want to let you go. I feel safe with you."
Letting out a shaky breath as Kurt's thumb brushed over his bottom lip, Blaine opened his eyes and stared into Kurt's. "I feel the same way. I…" He almost let it all slip; the letters, the dreams; everything. But he couldn't. The letters still felt too precious and he wasn't ready to hand them over yet. "I'm so glad you're here."
After that, they were silent for a while, just holding each other while they sat in front of the fireplace. It was peaceful and relaxing and so, so comforting. Blaine had never been able to find that kind of comfort in the arms of another person. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so comfortable or so safe. His parents had certainly never made him feel that way. His parents…
He tensed, unconsciously cuddling closer to Kurt. He hoped Kurt wouldn't notice, but of course he did.
"Blaine? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Blaine said too quickly. No matter how safe he felt with Kurt, he wasn't ready to talk about his parents. He trusted Kurt with his life but he just couldn't do it.
However, unlike Gabriel, Kurt cared too much to let it go when Blaine was obviously hurting because of whatever it was. In a way, Blaine knew that's what it was. But a part of him felt the need to close off completely and never talk about his parents ever again.
The scared part of him won in the end and he just buried his head in Kurt's shoulder, refusing to speak even at Kurt's gentle prompting. "Blaine? You can tell me anything, okay? I promise. Don't you trust me?"
Blaine nodded.
"Then talk to me."
Blaine shook his head.
He heard Kurt sigh softly, rubbing Blaine's back soothingly. Blaine slowly relaxed, closing his eyes and hugging Kurt's waist. "Blaine?"
Blaine hummed noncommittally and Kurt sighed again.
"Blaine, I really think you should talk to me about what's bothering you. I want to see if I can help."
"You're helping just by being here. I don't need to talk about it to make that happen."
Kurt almost said well maybe I'll just leave but he wouldn't be that cruel to Blaine when the man obviously needed someone to care about him right then. He didn't think he could hurt Blaine like that, not now and not ever. Not on purpose, anyway.
"Look at me," Kurt said gently. Blaine tentatively looked up at him, obviously fighting tears. "Please talk to me," he practically begged.
Blaine just buried his face in Kurt's chest. It didn't seem like he was going to say anything until…
"My parents," he said quietly. "They… It's because of them that I moved here. I just couldn't handle being anywhere near them, so I cut all ties and came here with my savings. They don't know where I went and I doubt they even care. I… I just wish they would care, you know?"
Kurt could tell it was hard for Blaine to even reveal that much, so he didn't push for any more. He just held Blaine closer and continued to rub his back. "Blaine… I'm so sorry."
Blaine shook his head. "I guess I should be used to it by now, but it still hurts."
"Nobody should ever have to get used to something like that," Kurt said with a heavy heart. "I just—"
"Can we just stop talking about it?" Blaine snapped, quickly backtracking and apologizing. "Sorry… It's just… I told you what's been bothering me. You never said anything about details."
Kurt sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it. Do you want to go to sleep?"
Blaine nodded, letting Kurt help him stand up and walk with him to the bed. They both crawled under the covers, Blaine resting his head on Kurt's chest, and closed their eyes. Kurt absentmindedly stroked Blaine's loose curls, wishing all the while that he could make all the hurt go away.
Kurt was surprised by how… not weird it was to be so intimately close to someone who was practically still a stranger. Yes, he'd been thinking about Blaine since the moment he first saw him in the parking garage that night, but he didn't actually know him. And yet, it felt so right being here with Blaine. It felt like fate. One minute Kurt was on the verge of death and the next he was in Blaine's arms. But why had he ended up in Blaine's apartment? Did it have to do with his connection to the apartment itself? Or was it Blaine? He had been thinking about Blaine right before he blacked out…
He frowned. Over the years, he'd noticed he sometimes ended up at places that were significant to him. But he'd never really been able to control where. Whether the apartment's significance came from Blaine or from Kurt's short stay there, or both, he wasn't sure.
He sighed, frustrated, and Blaine startled a little in his arms.
"Kurt? Are you okay?"
Kurt smiled, shakily. "Yeah. Of course. Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
Blaine returned the smile, reaching up to brush his fingertips over Kurt's cheek, then his jaw, then the curve of his neck, memorizing every detail. Kurt shivered and his eyes fluttered shut. "You're so amazing…" Blaine murmured. "I can't believe you're actually here."
Blaine hadn't forgotten about Kurt's odd and sudden sigh, but he decided to let it go. Yes, he was curious—extremely so—about how Kurt ended up in his apartment. He was curious as to why they kept running into each other, but he was especially curious about the odd few times when Kurt seemed to disappear into thin air.
But, for now, he decided that the questions could wait. He was happy to just revel in the feeling of finally having Kurt in his arms. He hadn't realized how much he craved it until it was happening, but now he never wanted it to stop. So he would wait. He would wait because every second with Kurt was worth cherishing.
As Blaine fell asleep in Kurt's arms, Kurt was practically humming with excitement. He'd been thinking about Blaine right before he blacked out, and then he ended up in Blaine's apartment. What if he'd finally found the secret to controlling his ability? At least on some level? Of course, he couldn't always control when he traveled, but maybe he could control where. That was something at the very least and Kurt was more hopeful than he'd ever been. He'd never let himself be hopeful before because it could never last, but for once he felt like things could get better.
And, actually, Blaine was a big part of that feeling. He felt so safe and comfortable with Blaine and he made him want to try to stay in one place for as long as possible. He made him want to spill every secret he'd ever kept…
But that brought up the most difficult issue. How was he going to tell Blaine about all of this? About his traveling; his unpredictability; everything. Blaine had to be suspicious after Kurt had showed up and disappeared so many times already. He'd created a pattern and Blaine had to have noticed. But how could he possibly understand? And how could Kurt expect him to stick around once he knew exactly what he was getting into? How could he put Blaine through that?
Holding Blaine just a little closer, he cried softly at the thought of losing the beautiful man in his arms. Once he knew, he'd leave for sure. But he had to tell Blaine. This was something that he couldn't keep from him and he knew it.
He was going to tell Blaine. And he would have to face the consequences, whatever they may be.
Blaine woke up slowly the next morning, comfortable and warm in a way that he wasn't used to. As he gradually gained consciousness, he realized why.
"Kurt?" he mumbled, eyelids heavy with sleep as he lazily lifted his head. He saw blue eyes staring back at him and grinned sleepily. "Hi."
Kurt smiled but he still looked sad. "Hi. How'd you sleep?"
"Better than ever," Blaine replied, still smiling in hopes that it would cheer Kurt up a little.
Kurt's smile faltered. "Really? You don't remember waking up at all?"
Blaine's forehead wrinkled a bit in confusion and he shook his head. "No… why?"
"You had a nightmare, I think," Kurt told him.
"Oh," Blaine said softly. He frowned for a moment before shaking his head. "I get those sometimes. Usually something to do with my family and whatnot. Or sometimes—"
He stopped himself, eyes widening a little, and shook his head. Kurt frowned worriedly.
"What?"
"Nothing," Blaine said quickly, sitting up and shivering at the loss of Kurt's comforting embrace. "It's nothing. I'm going to go take a shower. I… I'm a mess. I'm sorry."
He dashed off into the bathroom quickly, shutting the door behind him. Kurt watched him go, shocked and confused. Yet another mystery about Blaine's past that was, quite obviously, hard to talk about. Maybe he'd never even get the chance to know. He didn't know if he'd be welcome to stick around that long.
While Blaine was in the shower, Kurt decided to make them some breakfast. He laughed softly when he saw that all Blaine had was half a box of cereal and no milk. Apparently he didn't usually eat breakfast at home. There were a few things for lunches and dinners, but nothing that screamed breakfast.
A few minutes later, as he walked past the hallway leading to the bathroom, he heard sniffling sounds that were slowly growing into repressed sobs. He frowned, heart cracking, as he tentatively stepped closer to the closed door. He wanted to call out to Blaine and know what he could do to help. But he knew Blaine needed his space, and he obviously wasn't ready to talk to Kurt—or anyone, probably—about his past.
About ten minutes later, Blaine emerged from the bathroom in clean sweatpants and a t-shirt. Kurt looked up from where he was sitting on Blaine's bed, trying to act like he hadn't heard anything earlier. From the look in Blaine's eyes, though, he could tell he knew Kurt had heard.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said simply, sitting down on the couch.
Kurt sighed. "You don't have to. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you needed to tell me anything. But I do need to tell you something…" he trailed off, heart racing the more he thought about how Blaine would react to this news. He was terrified.
Blaine was looking at him strangely now, confused and a little worried. "Okay. You can tell me."
"Just please try not to freak out," Kurt begged before going on. "Look, I know you're wondering how I ended up in your apartment last night. Or how I disappeared from your balcony a month ago. Or any of the other times I've disappeared. I know it doesn't make any sense. Actually, I'm still figuring it out and I've been living with it since I was nine. The truth is… I'm a Traveler. Well, that's what my mom used to call it. I can travel through time, but I don't always end up in a different time. Sometimes it's just a different place. But I can never control it. I've been trying but I just can't and that's why I don't let people get too close. Because at least I'm the only one getting hurt if I leave suddenly and I can't figure out how to come back." He looked up to meet Blaine's eyes but his expression was unreadable. "Please say something," he begged.
"I… I don't know what to say," Blaine said quietly. "I mean, this explains so much, but… I don't know. How is any of this even possible? I mean, I… I've only seen stuff like this in movies. And now you're telling me that you're a… a time traveler? Or what?"
"Blaine, I know this is hard to believe," Kurt said, panic building in his chest. He'd expected a reaction like this, but it terrified him. "I… I didn't even believe it when my parents first told me what I was and what I could do. It… it doesn't make any sense. I know that. Please, just… you have to trust me. I need you to trust me."
Blaine was still apprehensive. Of course he wanted to trust Kurt. And again, it explained so much, but it didn't make any sense. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it, but it wasn't like he had another explanation that even came close to making sense. For now, he would just have to trust that Kurt was telling the truth, even if he didn't understand it. "How… Why did you end up at my apartment, of all places, last night? You didn't even really know me. You still don't know me."
"I don't know," Kurt said, relief flooding through him. Maybe Blaine would believe him, after all. "Sometimes I end up somewhere that means something to me, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I end up in the middle of nowhere and almost freeze to death."
Blaine frowned. "What if you don't… um… travel before something bad happens?"
"I can't control it," was all Kurt said.
"But, I mean, you could learn… right?"
"I've tried, Blaine," Kurt said, frustrated. "I just can't."
"I don't want to lose you," Blaine said. "I don't want you to disappear again. I would never know if you were okay or if… if you were coming back. Or if you even wanted to come back."
"You mean… you'd want me to come back?" Kurt asked, breathy and surprised.
Blaine frowned. "Of course I would."
Kurt climbed off of the bed and onto the couch, latching onto Blaine and nuzzling his face into the curve of his neck. "I was afraid you'd tell me it was too much to deal with. The… unpredictability."
Blaine returned the embrace, rubbing Kurt's back soothingly. "You're worth it," he decided. He knew it would be difficult, the uncertainty, but he was ready to deal with it if it meant having Kurt in his life. He wasn't ready to let him go before he really got to know him.
"Maybe," Kurt said doubtfully. He hugged Blaine tightly, staying as close as possible. He felt so warm and wanted. He never wanted to let go of that feeling.
"You are," Blaine insisted. "Having you in my life is worth it for whatever else I'll go through."
"You don't know me well enough to know that for sure," Kurt said.
"I don't need to. I just know, Kurt. I know how much you mean to me and I know that I'm not going to give up on you. Ever."
Kurt lifted his head to look at Blaine, sighing. "I'm so glad I found you."
"I know the feeling," Blaine said, smiling softly.
Kurt returned the smile and tentatively leaned in to press a soft kiss to Blaine's lips. Blaine smiled into it but pulled away after a few seconds. "What?" Kurt asked, confused. It felt amazing to kiss Blaine, and he knew Blaine felt the same way, so he wasn't sure why they'd stopped.
"I just feel like we should take this slow… physically. Whatever this is… it's special. It's precious to me and I don't want to ruin anything. I think we should get to know each other before we continue this kissing thing." He'd only been in the city for two months and he'd already found an amazing guy who he could see himself falling for; he wasn't going to risk messing that up.
Kurt nodded. "That makes sense. Why didn't you say something last night, though?"
"I was in a vulnerable state and I really needed someone to be there for me for once," Blaine admitted. "I just… wanted to keep you as close as possible."
Kurt smiled a little. "Well, we can still hug, right?"
Blaine laughed softly, grinning. "Of course. Friends hug all the time. And while I'd like to consider you something more than a friend, I think that's technically what we are right now."
"Agreed," Kurt nodded, his smile growing wider. "So, is there anything you want to do today? I've been traveling over Europe in the past few months, but I haven't been able to spend much time in Paris. I'd love a tour."
Blaine's eyes lit up as he grinned. "That sounds great. I think I know my way around pretty well after spending about two months here."
"Perfect!" Kurt grinned. "I may need to borrow an outfit of yours… at least until I can buy some of my own."
Blaine laughed. "I doubt my clothes would fit you. I'm too short. But I might have some of my older brother's old clothes that he gave me years ago and I never grew into."
Kurt shrugged. "That'll work for now. But we should probably go shopping immediately."
"Of course," Blaine nodded, smiling brightly.
So they got dressed—Blaine in some royal blue, skin-tight pants and a white polo with a black bowtie, and Kurt in some well-worn skinny jeans and a purple, form-fitting t-shirt—and headed out into the city. Their first stop was at a nearby clothing outlet where Kurt purchased several outfits that were much more flattering. Once he was satisfied and Blaine was practically drooling behind his back, they left the store, Kurt clad in his new, red, skinny jeans and black, short-sleeved, button-up.
As they strolled aimlessly along the sidewalk, Blaine casually slipped his hand into Kurt's, lacing their fingers together. Kurt looked over at him, smiling softly as Blaine continued to point out different things around the city, listing off random "fun facts" as if he'd lived there his whole life. It was kind of adorable.
"Blaine?"
Blaine turned towards who was saying his name and his face fell. He wasn't sure whether to squeeze Kurt's hand tighter or drop his hand completely. He went with the former.
"Gabriel," Blaine said, surprised and nervous all at once. "I… I'm so sorry," he eventually said. "I didn't…"
"You didn't mean for me to see you with another guy?" Gabriel finished for him, eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "Well, it's too late for you to hide your little secret. I guess this is the guy you rejected me for?"
"Blaine?" Kurt squeezed his hand questioningly, looking worried. He'd already put together that this was the man Blaine had been talking about when he'd confessed to feeling like a horrible person, but he wasn't sure how to respond to the man's dejected anger.
Gabriel turned his attention to Kurt. "I should warn you; he's just going to break your heart," he said with a hint of bitterness in his tone. "He lied to me so why wouldn't he do the same to you?"
"Hey, leave him alone," Kurt snapped, seeing the way Blaine flinched at the words. "I think you should leave."
Gabriel sent a cold look towards Blaine. "Fine. I sure hope you two are happy together."
With that, he left. He walked past them and Blaine's shoulders hunched. Kurt squeezed his hand tightly and pulled him closer, concerned. "Blaine," he said when Gabriel was gone. He pulled him aside so they weren't standing in the way. "I'm guessing that's the guy you told me about a few weeks ago?"
"I met him a few days after I moved to the city," Blaine explained. "We hit it off, and I thought that maybe something would happen, but I just didn't feel that way about him."
"But he felt that way about you," Kurt filled in, starting to understand a bit more.
Blaine nodded. "He asked me to be his boyfriend, and I said no. He thought it was because I was dating someone else, but the truth is I just couldn't stop thinking about you and it wasn't fair to either of us," he said, vaguely gesturing in the direction that Gabriel had disappeared to.
None of this was exactly new to Kurt, but it still hit him again that Blaine had turned down a potential love interest for him. He didn't know whether to be flattered or just a little freaked out. Then again, he hadn't stopped thinking about Blaine since the first time they saw each other, so how could he think of Blaine as creepy for essentially doing the same thing?
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Blaine shrugged. "I feel horrible for hurting him, but I couldn't keep lying to myself. Even if you and I don't become something romantically, I know that I feel more comfortable letting you in than anyone else I've ever met."
"You haven't really told me much, though," Kurt pointed out.
"I've told you something," he said with a timid smile. "That's more than anyone else has ever gotten out of me."
Kurt felt honored to be trusted that much, but it also made him sad that Blaine had been hurt to the point of only allowing himself to trust a very select few people. And Kurt was one of them, if not the only one at the moment.
Kurt grabbed both of Blaine's hands and smiled at him. "Thank you for trusting me." He didn't know what else to say, but apparently that was enough because Blaine smiled, seeming genuinely happy now.
"What do you say we finish that tour?" he asked, squeezing Kurt's hands.
"I say that's a great idea."
They toured at least half the city before they ended up in a small, secluded area of the park, just before sunset. "This is beautiful," Kurt said.
Blaine smiled, snuggling closer to Kurt. They were sitting on a large bench; Kurt sat normally while Blaine sat with his legs off to the side and his arms wrapped securely around Kurt's waist, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Yeah, it really is."
They were both quiet for a while, happy to watch the horizon slowly fade as they enjoyed the comfort of having a warm body to hold. Once the sun was out of sight, Kurt spoke up. "Is it weird that we're already so comfortable with each other? I mean, we still don't really know each other. Or is it weird that it doesn't feel weird?"
Blaine was silent for a moment, gently stroking Kurt's side with his thumb. Kurt smiled. "I think that we both need someone to care so we understand each other. But I also think we've both waited a long time to find each other and now that we have, there isn't a moment to waste."
Kurt hummed softly, taking that in. "That makes sense. But I also think we should take the chance to really get to know each other before we start acting like we're a couple. I mean, Gabriel saw us holding hands and assumed we were dating. I think we should be careful so we don't cross any lines and make things weird."
"You're right," Blaine agreed. "So… no more acting like a couple." He paused, frowning. "Well, maybe just not in public? Because what we're doing now would probably look a bit more than friendly but I don't really like the idea of never being able to hug you and have you hold me. You make me feel safe, Kurt."
Kurt nodded. "Okay. I think that's perfectly fine, especially because I know you need the comfort. And I think being able to hold you at night will ground me and make me less likely to disappear. I'll have a reason to stay."
Blaine's face split with a grin. "Even better, then."
They stayed like that, smiling at each other, for another few minutes before Kurt said, "It's getting late."
Blaine nodded. "Yeah, it is. I guess we should be getting home."
Kurt hummed in agreement, amused when Blaine only hugged him tighter. "Yeah, we should."
Blaine hummed contentedly, nuzzling Kurt's shoulder. Kurt laughed and pinched his side. Blaine yelped, sitting up and rubbing his side indignantly. His pout was too cute and Kurt laughed even more. "What?"
"Nothing," Kurt giggled. "You're just really cute."
Blaine blushed, ducking his head with a wide smile. "I…"
"Let's go," Kurt said softly. "Come on." He stood up and extended his hand to Blaine, smiling. Blaine took the offer, looking up at Kurt with a fond smile and standing up to follow him through the park. Once they reached the sidewalk that lined the buildings, Blaine tensed and Kurt squeezed his hand, wondering what was going on. Then he remembered the night in the parking garage and he felt a surge of protective determination set in. He pulled them to a stop and held Blaine's hands. "It's okay," he said softly. Then he shifted them around so Kurt was walking on the side closest to the buildings and the dark spaces between them. He wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist, not caring who saw. There were only a few people outside at that point, anyway.
Blaine seemed to relax for the rest of the walk back to his apartment. Kurt felt proud of himself for being the one to give Blaine that peace of mind.
When they got back to Blaine's apartment, they took turns changing into pajamas in the bathroom and then cuddled up on the bed. Kurt held Blaine tightly against his side, smiling when Blaine gently grabbed his wrist.
After a few minutes of quietly comforting each other, Kurt said, "Is it the night in the parking garage that gives you nightmares?" Blaine's thumb froze where it was stroking the back of Kurt's hand.
"Hmm?" he asked, confused.
"Earlier, you said that you have nightmares about your parents but sometimes it's something else," Kurt elaborated, carefully choosing his words. He didn't want to risk upsetting Blaine. The sounds of Blaine's sobs coming from the bathroom that morning shook him and made his heart ache.
Blaine tensed just slightly. "Um… No, not really. I mean, sort of? I guess? But not really."
"What do you mean?" Kurt pressed gently, rubbing Blaine's back for a few more seconds before settling his hand higher. He brushed his thumb lightly over the nape of Blaine's neck, hoping to calm him.
"I mean that it's similar but that's not what causes my nightmares," Blaine said vaguely. Kurt could almost see his walls going up. His hand was starting to tremble where it held Kurt's wrist.
"But what causes them? Maybe if I knew then I could help you."
"If three therapists and a year in the psych ward can't help me, I don't think anything can," he blurted out, curling in on himself and squeezing Kurt's wrist too tightly. "I've been having the same nightmare for five years. It's not going to go away all of the sudden."
Blaine's breathing was starting to speed up and Kurt was starting to seriously worry. "Blaine, please… I'm worried about you. Will you please talk to me?"
Blaine gasped, clutching Kurt's hand in his. Kurt was worried about him? Of course he was, he told himself, but that didn't change the impact the words had on him. He couldn't remember the last time someone cared enough about him to worry about him. He couldn't remember the last time someone listened and actually, genuinely cared.
He decided to be honest.
"When I was fifteen, I went to a school dance with my friend… the only other boy at my school who was out. We danced and had a great time, but while we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, a group of seniors thought it'd be funny to… beat the living crap out of us." His voice was barely a whisper, but Kurt gasped anyway, holding him tightly. "They… started hitting him and they made me watch…" He stopped, breathing heavily like he was going to be sick. He sat up, not looking Kurt in the eyes. He crossed his legs and gripped the sheets in front of him, needing something to ground him. "He was crying and begging them to stop. Then they shoved him backwards and his head hit the concrete. I just remember… so much blood. It was everywhere. Then they pushed me to the ground and I was lying in his blood and they wouldn't stop hitting me and laughing at me. The last thing I remember before I passed out is that one of the guys had a pocket knife and he tried to stab me in the shoulder. He… he missed, but it grazed my ribs. I don't remember crying. I just remember them running away when they heard Peter's dad's car…"
He let out a strangled sob, trying desperately to keep it in. Kurt, who was mirroring his sitting position and gently touching his knee, said, "It's okay to let it out, Blaine." At that, Blaine dissolved into sobs, collapsing into Kurt's arms. It was an awkward angle but Kurt held him anyway, rubbing his back soothingly. "You don't have to say anything else," he assured him.
Blaine shook his head. "I-I woke up in the hospital and they told me he didn't make it. They told me I was lucky because I didn't get the worst of it. Nobody understood that I had to watch my best friend die!" he sobbed, barely managing each sentence between hitched breaths. "He was dead and I had to live with it. I switched schools three times in a year before they sent me to a therapists three times a week. Things were better until I just couldn't handle the nightmares every night and every time I closed my eyes. I… I just… I tried…" He stopped himself, unable to breath around the words that were stuck in his throat. "I…"
"You tried what, Blaine?"
"To kill myself," he whispered brokenly, breaking out in sobs again. "I do-on't know… I didn't w-want to die. I just wanted it to stop h-hurting."
Kurt was silent, waiting for more and feeling more and more heartbroken as he listened. Blaine went in and out of sobbing fits as he spoke.
"They sent me to the psychiatric unit and I got a new therapist. I got better, I got worse, I got better, I got even worse than before… It felt like an endless cycle and it lasted a whole year, with a new therapist halfway through, before I was released. I missed a year of school while I was in there and I graduated late."
"Have you tried… since then?" Kurt asked hesitantly.
Blaine shook his head. "Now it's just the nightmares. Those never went away, even while I was in the hospital. They had to send a nurse to my room to sedate me every other night. Then I went home and my dad would come in my room just to tell me to go to bed and stop screaming. The only reason my parents sent me to try to get help was because they didn't want to be the ones to deal with me."
The whole time, Blaine went from openly crying to repressing his sobs enough to speak. Kurt held him tightly through the entire explanation and Blaine sagged in his arms as he said, "The nightmares about my parents leave me crying when I wake up. The nightmares about that night wake me up screaming. I can never get the images out of my head."
"Blaine," Kurt said softly.
"Go ahead and feel sorry for me," Blaine said bitterly. "That's what everyone else did, but they never actually cared."
"I'm just so sorry that you had to go through all of that without anyone by your side," Kurt murmured. "But you don't have to be alone anymore."
"What about when you leave?"
"I'll always come back," Kurt said. He wasn't sure what possessed him to make that promise when he knew he couldn't keep it, but he knew he needed to comfort Blaine somehow and he would do whatever it took to make that happen.
Uncontrollable time-traveling abilities be damned; he would never leave Blaine feeling lonely; never again.
Blaine woke up first the next morning, smiling sleepily when he realized Kurt's arms were still wrapped around him. He nestled into Kurt's chest a bit more and sighed contentedly.
Then he started thinking about their conversation the night before. It scared him to think of how much he'd given away. But what scared him even more was the fact that he hadn't held back; he'd given Kurt all of his secrets and Kurt had taken him into his arms without a moment's hesitance.
So that's what trust feels like, he thought, smiling a little.
He shifted so he was sitting up, gently laying Kurt's head on a pillow when he started to stir. "Shh, shh, it's okay." Then he grabbed his laptop and opened up his Dear Stranger document.
Dear Kurt,
It turns out I was right. I knew that I would see you again, and now here you are in my apartment. I slept with your arms around me and I told you just about everything there is to know about my past. I hope you know how much that means for me, the fact that I told you all of that. I hope you know that you're the only one who has ever made me feel safe enough to talk about it. I haven't spoken a word about it since my third therapist moved out of state, and I thought I never would until you came along.
I feel like I'm just rambling. And I'm not really sure why I'm writing this when I could just talk to you. I guess I'm not quite ready to let these letters go. They mean a lot to me. I want it to be perfect when I do eventually give them to you. I hope you know what it means for me to trust you with these letters. I've poured my heart and soul out to you in them, so be careful.
I think you're waking up, so I'm going to wrap this up.
With all my heart,
Blaine
He quickly stowed his laptop in the nightstand drawer and shifted so he was lying beside Kurt. He brushed his bangs out of his face and smiled. "Morning," he murmured.
Kurt smiled, not yet opening his eyes. "Morning," he said. "I know you didn't just wake up. What were you doing?"
"Just thinking," Blaine said.
"About what?"
"You."
"You do that a lot."
"What?"
"You say things that are either really sweet or really creepy and I can't decide which it is yet," Kurt said, finally opening his eyes. He laughed when he saw Blaine pouting. "Fine, you're really sweet. Better?"
Blaine laughed. "Much better."
Kurt jokingly smacked his arm. "You're a dork."
Blaine shrugged. "You're right. I guess you'll just have to get used to it."
"Oh, no, whatever will I do?" Kurt asked sarcastically. Blaine stuck his tongue out at him and they both broke into giggles.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," Blaine said once they calmed down. They exchanged a smile and Blaine got up, headed towards the bathroom.
Kurt couldn't help but smile as he watched Blaine walk away. He loved getting to know Blaine more and more. He never wanted to stop.
As he got up to walk to the kitchen, he heard something coming from the bathroom. He paused, curious. As he moved in closer to listen, he realized it was singing that he heard. Blaine was singing. Smiling softly, he leaned in even closer.
Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand
But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man
These nights never seem to go to plan
I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand?
Oh, won't you stay with me?
'Cause you're all I need
This ain't love, it's clear to see
But darling, stay with me
Why am I emotional?
No, it's not a good look, gain some self-control
And deep down I know it never works
But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt
Blaine finished the song with unbelievable conviction, and it made Kurt's heart ache to hear the raw pain behind the words. Kurt wiped his damp eyes, stepping away from the door with his hand over his mouth. Blaine's voice was beautiful, and so full of emotion. Yes, the song was about a one-night stand, but Kurt could tell it had a deeper meaning for Blaine. People always left him, and he didn't want Kurt to do the same.
His knees hit the edge of the bed and he gasped as he sat down. He could feel himself about to disappear and he fought stubbornly against it. He didn't want to leave Blaine. He wouldn't. He couldn't let his nerves get the best of him and make him disappear. He had to stay calm. It always got worse when he started panicking.
Grunting in frustration, he held his head in both hands, willing himself to stay put. Think of Blaine. You can't leave Blaine.
Slowly, he felt himself solidifying and he calmed down, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief. He'd done it. He'd never been able to make himself stay before. He grinned, laughing breathlessly.
As soon as Blaine walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Kurt jumped up and threw his arms around him. He didn't care that his clothes were getting wet. He just needed to thank Blaine.
"You helped me stay," Kurt explained. "I felt myself about to leave but I thought of you and I stayed. I've never been able to do that before."
"That's amazing, Kurt," Blaine said sincerely. "But, um…" he began awkwardly and only then did Kurt realize that Blaine was wearing only a towel.
"Oh!" he squeaked, backing up instantly, blushing. "Sorry, I… I'll just…"
Blaine smiled, also blushing. "It's okay. I just need to get dressed, if you don't mind."
Now that Kurt got a good look at Blaine's chiseled torso, he almost said something very inappropiate. But he refrained, instead saying, "Go ahead. I'll, um… go over there and, um, not look." He busied himself with stowing the bed away into the wall, still blushing and adamantly trying not to look at Blaine. But he was only human, after all.
He couldn't help but glance over, barely missing a glimpse as Blaine pulled his pants up over his hips. He shamelessly watched the muscles in his back move smoothly beneath the skin, cheeks heating up.
Finally, Blaine turned around and made eye contact with Kurt, smirking when he saw the look on Kurt's face. Kurt's eyes widened and he immediately looked away, blushing profusely.
A few seconds later, Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, yelping as he turned to look at Blaine who still wasn't wearing a shirt. He gulped, meeting Blaine's gaze as the shorter man stepped closer. "I think I've changed my mind," Blaine murmured.
"A-About what?"
"About the whole 'no kissing' thing."
Kurt nodded before he realized what he was doing. "Yeah. Me, too."
Without really knowing who initiated it, they were kissing. Blaine cupped either side of Kurt's face gently in his palms, inhaling as he pressed deeper into the kiss. Kurt rested his hands on the warm skin at Blaine's waist, pulling him closer as Blaine walked them to the couch. Blaine leaned back against the armrest as Kurt crawled on top of him. "Wait," Blaine whispered, breaking the kiss for just a moment. "We should, um, close the blinds. These windows are kind of enormous."
Kurt nodded, kissing him once more before getting up to lower the blinds on both windows. Then he returned to his position above Blaine, cradling his head and neck with one hand and squeezing his waist with the other. Before Kurt could dive in and kiss him again, Blaine stopped him, gently putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders and sitting up so they weren't quite so… close. "Wait… J-Just to be clear. I-I don't want to, um, do something that we'll regret. This is just kissing."
Kurt stared intently at him, brushing his thumb over the skin behind Blaine's ear. "Okay. We don't have to do anything more than kiss for now. Is that what you want?"
Blaine nodded. "Yes. It's just… I've never done this before."
"Me, neither," Kurt told him.
Blaine exhaled, sounding relieved. "O-Okay. Let's, um, continue, then."
Kurt wrinkled his nose with a smile, laughing softly. "Yes, let's."
Blaine started to laugh and Kurt cut him off with a kiss, swallowing Blaine's moan as well as his laugh.
"This doesn't have to be just a one-time thing," Kurt murmured between kisses, remembering the song Blaine sang earlier. "I won't leave unless you want me to."
"O-Okay," Blaine gasped, whining softly as Kurt kissed his neck. "So, are we—ah—a-are we dating, then?"
Kurt smiled against Blaine's collarbone. "Only if you want to," he said, sucking a sweet kiss into the hollow of Blaine's throat.
"Yeah," Blaine said eloquently, gasping with pleasure. "Yes, I want to."
"Perfect," Kurt said with a smirk. "Now why don't we continue?"
Blaine smiled, leaning in to press his lips to Kurt's again. He held Kurt's face between his palms, inhaling as he pulled him closer. He felt pressure on his bottom lip and realized that Kurt's teeth were gently tugging it into his own mouth. He made a soft noise of surprise when he felt teeth digging into his lip a bit too sharply. He pulled away just slightly, pressing his forehead against Kurt's. "Ouch," he whispered, laughing breathily after a second. Kurt reached up to curve his palm around the back of Blaine's neck, murmuring a soft apology. Blaine smiled and tilted his head to the side, angling the kiss even better than before. They both inhaled sharply at the sudden change of pressure, gripping tighter and kissing harder.
Then, Blaine decided to be bold and started trailing kisses along Kurt's jaw until he got to his ear, pressing gentle kisses below the lobe before gently scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin. He smiled a little when he heard Kurt moan breathlessly.
"We…" Kurt started. "We should slow down… Or, uh, stop. Take a break—ah—for a minute."
Blaine covered Kurt's jaw in soft kisses once more before meeting his eyes. "You're right. We should talk about some things."
Kurt nodded. "Agreed. So, I guess this means we're official?"
Blaine smiled a little, sitting back to look at Kurt. "I guess so. That was some pretty amazing kissing. I mean, I have to admit, it happened really fast, but I don't regret it. When you think about it, everything about this relationship started out really fast. But that doesn't mean it's wrong or too soon."
"But maybe we don't need to rush into the 'boyfriend' title," Kurt said. "We should try dating for a while and see where it goes."
Blaine nodded. "I'd like that. But I don't regret what we did."
Kurt nodded in agreement, humming. "I don't regret it, either. I think it was perfect. Even if I did accidently bite your lip."
Blaine blushed. "That actually felt kind good, to be honest."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?"
Blaine nodded. "Yeah. It's not any weirder than you moaning when I kissed your ear."
Kurt laughed. "True." He hummed softly; snuggling into Blaine's side and smiling softly up at him. "How is it that I could kiss you all day long, and yet you're still so mysterious to me? I still feel like I hardly know you."
Blaine shrugged, still smiling. "The missing pieces will fall into place eventually. You already know how much my life sucked before I moved here; next you get to learn about the good stuff."
Kurt grinned. "I can't wait," he said before leaning up to press a kiss to Blaine's jaw. He absentmindedly trailed his fingers across Blaine's torso and grinned even brighter at the noise it elicited. "You know, you make a really cute noise when I do that," he added, dragging his fingers across Blaine's rib cage. Blaine let out the same high-pitched sound that was a cross between a whine and a squeak. Kurt giggled. "Adorable."
Blaine laughed breathlessly, shaking his head. "You're weird, you know that?"
Kurt shrugged. "Oh, well. You're still adorable."
"That makes two of us, then."
"Aww, you're sweet," Kurt cooed.
Blaine smiled and pulled Kurt closer, kissing his forehead. "I'm glad it was you."
"Hmm?"
"My first… intimate experience—"
"Make-out session," Kurt filled in.
Blaine laughed, eyes crinkling. "Yes, that. I'm glad it was you."
Kurt smiled softly. "I'm glad you were my first, too."
"Do you wish we would've waited?"
"Nope. You're way too attractive for me to not want to kiss you all the time. Besides, it's not like there's anyone else I would ever want to share this with."
"Only me?" Blaine asked quietly.
"Only you."
Blaine couldn't help but smile. "You know, I've been waiting my whole life to meet someone like you, and now that I've finally found you, I… I can't believe how amazing it feels to know that someone cares."
"Blaine…" Kurt sat up slightly so he could see Blaine, frowning a bit in concern. "I—"
"It's okay," Blaine said, nodding a little. "I… I know that they don't care. I know they never will, but… it's okay. Well, it will be. It's okay right here, right now, though, and that's enough."
Kurt sighed. "I know we keep coming back to this. I'm sorry. I just… I want you to be happy. I know you deserve it. You deserve to be loved."
Blaine smiled shakily. "Can we, um…" he cleared his throat. "Can we not talk about it right now? I was happy just cuddling with you."
"You're the one who brought it up," Kurt pointed out. "I just want to make sure you're okay, that's all."
"I know," he said. "I know. I start feeling sorry for myself and then I bring it up without meaning to, and then there're questions. I hate when I do it, but it happens. That doesn't mean I want to talk about it."
Kurt sighed, leaning his head against Blaine's shoulder and hugging his waist. "Okay. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Blaine murmured. "I'm just going to… put a shirt on. It's getting sort of chilly." He stood up, walking over to his closet. Kurt watched him, disappointed to have lost his cuddle buddy. He smiled when Blaine came back and sat down next to him, turned towards him so they were talking face-to-face. "Let's just talk about something else. Family is out of the question unless it's yours, and anything involving what I told you last night is off limits."
Kurt smiled a little. "Okay. I can do that." He paused, thinking. "What about hobbies? That's a good start to get to know each other, don't you think?"
Blaine smiled. "That sounds perfect. I'd kind of like to be able to see your face while we talk, though. It feels weird otherwise."
"Agreed," Kurt laughed lightly. "So, what kinds of things do you like to do?"
"I love to sing," Blaine answered immediately. "I haven't really done it much since high school, but I really enjoy it. Music is my passion. That's why I could never go to law school or med school like my parents wanted me to… And I'm bringing them up again. I'm sorry."
Kurt shook his head. "It's okay. So, why didn't you pursue music?"
"I didn't think any colleges would accept me after I was out for a year, and I wasn't ready to be a full-time musician. Then, after I graduated, I ran away and promised I'd never go back. I guess I just never got around to it," he said, shrugging sadly.
Kurt reached over to hold Blaine's hand, smiling softly. "Can I hear a song? If you really love it that much…"
"I don't know…" Blaine said, ducking his head and laughing shyly.
"Come on," Kurt said, grinning and squeezing his hand. "Please? For me?"
"I… I guess one song couldn't hurt," he conceded.
Kurt bounced happily, squeezing both of Blaine's hands now. Then Blaine stood up and started singing softly. Kurt watched excitedly.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again
Do you ever feel… feel so paper thin?
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you?
'Cause there's a spark in you
You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July
'Cause, baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down, down, down
Blaine sang through the next verse and chorus and Kurt listened, in awe. Blaine was entirely lost in the song, putting his whole self into it.
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through
'Cause, baby, you're a firework
Come on show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gonna leave 'em going "Oh, oh, oh!"
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
"That was amazing," Kurt said. "Blaine, you are so good! I—"
He stopped himself. He'd rather not let it slip that he'd been listening to Blaine sing in the shower. That was just a little bit creepy.
"You really think so?" Blaine asked, smiling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Kurt could tell he loved to perform.
"Of course," Kurt grinned. "You really have a gift, Blaine. I'd hate to see you throw that away."
Blaine shrugged. "I guess I just don't have anywhere to perform anymore. The only time I sing is in the shower, usually."
"What if we found a café or something that needs some live music?"
Blaine laughed a little in disbelief, but there was no denying the hope in his eyes; the passion. "I… I don't know."
"What? You don't know what?"
"If I'm good enough to make it," he clarified.
Kurt frowned. Had no one ever told Blaine how incredibly talented he was? Had he really been put down so much of his life that he didn't believe in himself at all? How was any of that fair? "You're more than good enough. You're amazing. Your voice is beautiful. I don't understand how anyone could say otherwise."
Blaine shrugged again, ducking his head. "You're the only one who's ever told me that I'm good."
"That's why we need to find somewhere for you to perform," Kurt insisted. "So you can hear it from someone else."
"I… I guess we can try," Blaine agreed, looking up slowly. "You really think I can do it?"
"I know you can," Kurt said, smiling.
Blaine finally cracked a smile. "You know, you're kind of the best almost-boyfriend ever."
Kurt laughed. "Almost-boyfriend, huh? I like it."
"Me, too," Blaine said, laughing softly along with Kurt. "So… I guess it's your turn. What do you like to do?"
"I promise I'll try not to turn one answer into a big back story," Kurt said with a smile. "I'll keep it simple." He paused, humming. "First of all, I love to sing, too. I don't get much time to do it, but I enjoy it. I love to draw, especially clothing design. And I love spending time with my dad. I know it's not exactly a hobby, but with all the traveling I do, I don't always get to spend very much time with him."
Blaine smiled. "It sounds like you really love him."
Kurt nodded. "Of course. He's the only family I have left."
Blaine wanted to ask what had happened to the rest of his family, but he decided that could wait. He was trying to keep this conversation as light-hearted as possible. Instead, he asked, "So, is it your turn to sing me a song?"
Kurt chuckled. "I guess I should've seen that one coming. Any song requests?"
"I don't know your range."
"Countertenor," Kurt said with a slight smile.
Blaine's eyes widened. "Impressive. How about… Oh! Do you know Rose's Turn?"
Kurt scoffed. "Of course I do."
Blaine grinned. "Perfect. Let's hear it."
Kurt nodded, standing up and taking a deep breath before beginning.
All that work and what did it get me?
Why did I do it?
Scrapbooks full of me in the background
Give 'em love and what does it get ya?
What does it get ya?
One quick look as each of 'em leaves you
All your life and what does it get ya?
Thanks a lot and out with the garbage
They take bows and you're battin' zero
I had a dream
I dreamed it for you, Dad
It wasn't for me, Dad
And if it wasn't for me, then where would you be, Miss Rachel Berry?
Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn?
Don't I get a dream for myself?
Starting now it's gonna be my turn
Gangway, world, get off of my runway!
Starting now I bat a thousand
This time, boys, I'm taking the bows and…
Everything's coming up Kurt!
Everything's coming up Hummel!
Everything's coming up Kurt!
This time for me
Ha ha ha ha ha
For me! For me! For me!
For me! For me!
For me!
Yeah!
Blaine stared at him with wide eyes, bringing his hands up to clap. "Wow. Just… wow. That was incredible."
Kurt deflated a little, breathing heavily after the intensity of the song. Old feelings of bitterness in high school were brought to the front of his mind and he tried to calm himself down. "I… I haven't sung that in a long time."
"Well, it sounded amazing," Blaine said with a bit of a laugh. "If you don't mind me asking, though, is there a reason the song was so intense for you?"
Kurt laughed breathlessly, sitting down beside Blaine on the couch. "Just… a fight I had with my dad back in high school. It really has been a while."
"Nothing serious?"
"Not in the long run," Kurt said. "I was sixteen. Back then, I was traveling every other week and it caused quite a few fights with my dad, but we got over it."
Blaine nodded, smiling. "I'm glad." His voice sounded strained, though.
The truth was… Blaine was trying hard not to be jealous of the relationship Kurt had with his dad. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it. He'd have given anything to have had a dad to support him growing up—because, let's face it; his father had never been a dad to him.
"Blaine, I know what you're thinking. Stop it," Kurt said gently.
"How do you know?" Blaine asked, guarded.
"Because I can see it in your face. You need to stop thinking about them, and don't compare our situations. That's not fair to anyone. You'll just make yourself feel awful all over again."
Blaine frowned. "It sounds like it's really just unfair to me."
"You aren't the only one who had a rough childhood," Kurt muttered.
"Now who's comparing our situations, huh?" Blaine exclaimed. "Are you seriously meaning to say—"
"No," Kurt stopped him. "I know that I can't compare any of it. I'm sorry. It's just… you don't know what it's like to be nine years old and wake up in a park across the country from where you went to sleep. I was terrified, okay? I'm still terrified. This ability has done nothing but cause pain and it's nearly killed me several times. Yes, I know I had supportive parents, but one of them died before any of it really started and the other was never close enough to help because I was always somewhere else."
For a while it was silent except for Kurt's frantic breathing. Eventually, Blaine spoke, whispering, "I'm sorry."
"I know. Me, too."
Again, it was silent. After a few minutes of contemplation, Blaine leaned in and gently cupped Kurt's cheek and tilted his head up so that their eyes locked. Kurt gulped and put his hand over Blaine's, sighing softly as Blaine leaned in and kissed him. He pressed repeated, sweet kisses to Kurt's lips and the corners of his mouth, gently rubbing his thumb across Kurt's cheekbone the entire time.
After a while, they broke apart and Blaine smiled softly at him. "Better?"
Kurt nodded, squeezing Blaine's hand before letting their linked hands fall to their laps. "Yeah. Better."
"I'm sorry."
"I know. Let's just… promise not to try to compare our situations, okay? We both had hard childhoods, for different reasons. But now we're here and we have each other and I don't want there to be any bitter feelings before this relationship can even have a chance to go somewhere. Okay?"
Blaine nodded. "Okay. You're right. Let's just… go back to talking about other things. We could play twenty questions?"
Kurt smiled. "Okay. But the same rules apply; no family talk and no questions about your nightmares."
"We'll get there," Blaine said.
"I know," Kurt said, rubbing his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "We will. For now, let's start with the easy stuff. We can at least try to pretend that we didn't do this whole dating thing backwards and attempt to get to know each other."
Blaine laughed a little. "Sounds good. So, I guess I'll start. What's your ideal date?"
Kurt grinned. "Doing research, are we?"
Blaine shrugged. "Maybe," he drawled, cracking up when Kurt smirked playfully at him. "Just answer the question."
"All right," Kurt agreed with a laugh. "I guess I've always wanted to go to the beach at night. He'd take me to dinner and we'd drive to the beach together." He smiled, closing his eyes and tilting his head sideways to lean against the back of the couch. "Then we'd cuddle up in a blanket on the cool sand and watch the sunset. Simple but also romantic," he added, sighing dreamily. When Kurt opened his eyes, Blaine was smiling soft at him. Kurt blushed, smiling. "What?"
"How are you so wonderful?" Blaine asked with an adoring smile.
Kurt blushed even deeper, ducking his head and grinning from ear to ear. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, glancing up.
"I'm still trying to convince myself that you're real. I mean, I know you're here and you're real, but it's just so incredible that this is happening after I thought for a while that we'd never get a chance. Now we do have a chance and I'm just so glad that we do."
Kurt's heart fluttered. "Me, too. I'm glad that I decided to stop running away." They were quiet for a few moments, just smiling shyly at each other. Then Kurt laughed softly and said, "We're so sappy."
"We are," Blaine agreed, laughing along with him. "How is it that I keep turning simple questions into weird little confession moments?"
"I like it," Kurt told him. "I like that even the smallest thing can turn you into a sentimental sap."
"I'm always a sentimental sap," Blaine corrected, matter-of-factly. Kurt laughed. "I just don't always show it."
"Well, even better. I'm dating the sappiest guy in Paris. And that is saying something, considering it's the City of Love."
Blaine laughed, grinning at Kurt. They'd been going back and forth all morning, but Blaine was glad that they'd decided to try things between them. He didn't know what would come of it, but he knew that he felt something special, and he knew that Kurt felt it, too. For now, though, he was just grateful for the chance to get to know the man who'd been a mystery to him for far too long.
"Well, back to the ideal date thing," Blaine said. "We might not be able to go to the beach right away, but I definitely intend to follow through on that. For now, how about dinner?"
"How about lunch?" Kurt suggested with a smile. "It's almost noon."
"Sounds perfect."
They ended up at a nice little café that had tables just outside in a canopied area. They sat outside near the very edge of the fenced area, chatting while they waited for their food to arrive.
"So, should we continue our game of twenty questions?" Kurt asked.
"Well, let's not limit ourselves to just twenty, but sure," Blaine answered, earning a short laugh.
"You know what I meant. I guess I'll start. So… have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Girlfriend?"
Blaine laughed. "No. I've always been pretty certain of who I am, at least in that area. For a while, I considered pretending for my parents' sakes, but I don't think it would've changed anything. But to answer your question, no, I've never dated anyone. Not until now, anyway," he added, smiling.
Kurt looked surprised. "So, I really am your first?"
Blaine bit his lip. He was hoping he wouldn't have to tell Kurt about this part of his life yet, but he really didn't think he could lie to Kurt. "Well, I never dated anyone, but there was this boy who was in the psych ward with me for a few months when I first got there. His name was Eric and he… he understood. For so long, I felt like no one could ever understand, but he did. He tried to escape the pain after his dad died by, um, trying what I tried," he said, and Kurt's heart ached. He knew what that meant. "We were roommates; we there for each other. The doctors said I was getting better, and it was all because of him. And after a few weeks, he admitted that he had feelings for me. I… I wasn't ready for a relationship, but I liked him, too, and I kissed him. That was the first time and the only time, though. After that, things were different. He still woke up to comfort me when I woke up in the middle of the night screaming; held me until I fell asleep and a little bit longer to make sure I was okay. But things changed, and I got worse because I lost him. I…" He stopped himself, looking up from where he'd been staring at the table for several minutes. He met Kurt's gaze. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… It's just that you're the only person since then that I've been able to talk to about any of this. It's like I don't even realize I'm telling you any of it until I've told you all of it. I've never felt this comfortable with anyone before. I'm sorry…"
"No. No, you don't need to apologize," Kurt promised. "Are you okay?"
Blaine let out a shaky breath. "I… I'm okay. It's just… memories. We were just kids. I was sixteen. But it's over, I…"
"What happened to him?" Kurt asked when Blaine paused.
"What?" Blaine asked, startled.
"What happened to him?"
"I don't know," Blaine confessed. "He was released after my first six months. Apparently he'd been there for almost a year already. I had to get a new therapist after he left, because the first one didn't know how to help me anymore. I haven't seen him since."
Kurt reached across the table to hold Blaine's hand. Startled, Blaine glanced up. "I know that I can never understand what you went through, or what you're going through now, but I want you to know that I can still be there for you."
Blaine nodded. "I know. I wouldn't expect you to try to understand, anyway. The only way you could is if you experienced it, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
They were both silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. Blaine wanted to say that they should go home because he felt like he was going to break down at any second, but he was determined to make their first date perfect. And that meant no more dredging up old, painful memories.
"Why don't we stop playing this game?" he suggested. "It's beginning to seem impossible to find questions that are harmless but useful. They all end in painful back stories."
"Agreed," Kurt nodded, offering a small smile. "What if we just finish our lunch and then take a walk? We should take advantage of the cool weather before it gets too cold."
Blaine returned the smile, grateful. "I think that's the best idea I've heard all day."
In the next few weeks, fall turned to winter and kisses tasted like hot cocoa more often than not. Kurt and Blaine only grew closer.
They were sitting by the fireplace drinking hot cocoa—this had become something of an evening routine lately. The walls were illuminated by nothing but the flickering firelight and Blaine couldn't take his eyes off of Kurt's serene-looking profile. He looked angelic in the warm light. He was glowing and Blaine was enchanted by it all.
He wanted to say it so badly. Those three words that had been itching closer and closer to the tip of his tongue over the weeks they'd been together. He just wanted to tell Kurt. But the timing was never right.
Truthfully, he didn't want to scare Kurt away.
"This is perfect," Kurt said suddenly, sighing happily as he rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. "Absolutely perfect."
Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's forehead, forgetting almost entirely about his fears. Fear could wait. For now, he was happy. Kurt was happy, and he wanted him to stay that way. "Yeah, perfect," he agreed.
But his resolve was cracking, and it was all thanks to that fireplace. Curse his obsession with romantic settings and his incessant need to find the perfect moment.
It was a week later that they were in much the same situation and Kurt whispered, "What would you say if I told you I was falling in love with you?"
Blaine almost choked on his hot cocoa. I would say that I've already fallen. He looked at Kurt in surprise and Kurt blushed, quickly backtracking.
"I mean, not that I am, but, like, hypothetically. If I was, what would you say?"
Blaine cleared his throat. "Well, hypothetically, I'd probably say that I'd catch you if you did."
Kurt smiled shyly. If Blaine had to guess, he'd say Kurt looked very, very pleased with that answer. "Good to know."
Blaine wasn't entirely sure what had just happened. He could've sworn they'd just admitted to being in love with each other, but, supposedly, it was all hypothetical.
Love was confusing.
Soon enough, Thanksgiving had come and gone, and Kurt had called his dad, which resulted in an enormous sigh of relief from the other line. "You better not go that long without calling me ever again, Kurt. You know how I worry."
Now it was a few days into December and Blaine was becoming distant. Kurt tried to ask him about it but Blaine always offered the same answer: "I'm just tired. I'm fine," and smiled like that fixed everything. But Kurt didn't believe it for a second.
One day, he found Blaine at the top of the Eiffel Tower, wrapped up in his winter clothing as snowflakes fell delicately onto his gently styled curls.
"Blaine, this is getting ridiculous," Kurt said gently, trying not to startle him. Blaine didn't respond. "It's been three days and you've barely said five words to me. What is this about?" He heard Blaine sigh softly and he stepped closer, reaching for Blaine's hand. "Please talk to me."
Blaine reached out to grip Kurt's hand, letting out a shaking breath before speaking. "I… I never want to have to see my parents again," he started. Kurt frowned, confused.
"I know. No one is going to make you do that. Blaine, did they call you or something? What's wrong?"
"No, they didn't call me," Blaine assured him. "That's just it, though. When you called your dad, and he was so worried about you, and you talked for hours, I started thinking. What would happen if I called my parents? What would happen if I went home? Maybe they'd be worried about me, or maybe they'd act like they didn't know me. Or maybe the abuse would start up like it never stopped. The thing is… I'm pretty sure I know exactly what would happen, but I can't help myself. I want to go home. To Ohio, I mean. And… I know you do, too. I know you miss your dad, and what better reunion than to go home for Christmas?"
"Blaine…" Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand, frowning. "Of course I want to see my dad, but… I also want to make sure that you're safe. Are you sure that you want this?"
"I have no idea," Blaine admitted. "But it's almost Christmas, and I already bought our plane tickets, so it doesn't really matter if I'm sure."
Kurt's eyes widened, though Blaine wasn't sure if he was more excited or concerned at this point. "We're going to Ohio?"
Blaine nodded, swallowing thickly as Kurt wrapped him up in a tight hug.
"We're going to Ohio."
It wasn't until they stepped off the plane in the Columbus airport that it really sunk in for Blaine what was happening. They barely made it past the waiting area before Blaine's knees buckled, his fall only interrupted as Kurt caught him at the last second. A few people glanced at him in concern but Blaine paid them no notice. "Blaine," Kurt said worriedly, helping Blaine into a nearby chair. Blaine didn't respond, simply staring at nothing in front of him. "Blaine," Kurt said again, shaking him gently. "Honey, what's wrong?"
He seemed to snap out of it, as if the pet name reminded him that Kurt was there, not someone else. "I… Oh." He looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on Kurt. "Sorry. I just… never thought I'd come back here."
"Do you regret it?"
"I haven't figured that out yet," he admitted. "So, shall we go surprise your dad?"
Kurt smiled, relieved. "He's going to be thrilled."
"To see you? I don't see how he wouldn't be."
Kurt blushed, ducking his head slightly. "You flatter me."
"You deserve it."
Kurt grinned, leaning in to kiss Blaine's cheek. "All right, you flirt. Save the charm for the parent 'Meet and Greet.'"
Blaine cracked a soft laugh, catching Kurt's lips in a short kiss. When he pulled away, Kurt saw something flash in his eyes and his gut clenched with worry. Suddenly, Blaine looked scared. No, terrified. Kurt was confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
Then he remembered what Blaine told him; the reason he spent years in therapy and the reason he still suffered from horrifying nightmares. Of course he would be afraid of the consequences of PDA now that they were in Ohio, the site of the incident. Kurt's heart ached with sympathy and he reached out to squeeze Blaine's shoulder gently. "Let's get going, okay? You look exhausted."
Blaine nodded, close to tears with gratitude that Kurt understood. He knew. Blaine didn't have to say a word because Kurt already knew.
They caught a cab and Kurt gave the driver the address that he'd known by heart since he was ten. When they reached the right house, Blaine paid the driver and they grabbed their bags from the trunk, making their way to the front porch. Tentatively, Kurt knocked on the door.
A few moments later, they were greeted by a balding man who hid it with a baseball cap. Burt's eyes widened immediately when he saw who it was. "Kurt."
"Hi, dad," Kurt said softly, smiling. Burt stepped forward, then, wrapping his arms around his son as if it would be the last time he could. Then again, they both knew that that was a possibility.
"Kurt," he said again, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's been way too long." He pulled back, holding Kurt by the shoulders and grinning at him. "Come on in. There's so much we need to talk about," he said, glancing pointedly at Blaine who stood there somewhat awkwardly.
Kurt smiled and grabbed Blaine's hand before following his dad into the familiar house. He took a seat on the small sofa and Blaine sat beside him as Burt took the big chair. "So, how've you been? I see a lot has changed," Burt started.
"Things have been good," Kurt said, glancing at Blaine with a soft smile. "Things have been really good. You know I've been in Paris, and that's where I met Blaine. It took me a while to stop running away from the idea of having someone that cared about me, but it was worth it, I think." He paused, looking back at his dad. "And please don't bother with the 'if you hurt my son, I hurt you' spiel. I'm twenty years old. You don't need to intimidate him just because he's my first boyfriend."
Burt raised an eyebrow and Blaine shifted nervously. "Kurt, you know me better than that. I'd give that speech to anyone who ever tried coming close to you and you know it. After all these years of you pushing people away, I want to make sure he's willing to stick around now that you actually want him to." He turned his attention to Blaine. "I'll pass on the intimidation part since you seemed terrified already, but I do want you to know exactly what it means that Kurt has decided to trust you. He doesn't do that with very many people."
"Neither do I, sir," Blaine confessed.
Burt looked surprised at the admission, but he took it for what it was. "Then you know how much it says that he's letting you into his life. And you know that I would do anything to protect my son. Do not let him down."
"I promise to do my best, sir," Blaine vowed, squeezing Kurt's hand as he said it. Kurt smiled at him.
Burt stared, unreadable, at him for a few more moments before he smiled kindly. "You can call me Burt, kid. And if things are headed the way I think they are, you can start thinking of me as your dad."
Blaine inhaled sharply, barely noticing Kurt's hand resting on his shoulder as he stared at Burt in shock. He felt like he couldn't breathe, he was so overwhelmed. 'You can start thinking of me as your dad.'
I've never had a dad before. Not in the way that really matters.
Blaine started breathing heavily as Kurt hugged him tightly. Kurt shared a look with his dad and Burt stared at him as if to say, 'What did I do?'
Kurt motioned for him to move to the couch and Burt understood. He sat on the other side of Blaine and gently clasped his shoulder. Instantly, Blaine turned around and threw his arms over Burt's shoulders, hugging him like he'd always wanted to be able to hug his own father.
"Dad," he whispered. "I like the sound of that."
Burt caught Kurt's eye over Blaine's shoulder and suddenly he understood. He made a silent promise right then and there that he would always be a father to this boy—because, really, he was still just a kid—and never let him feel unloved again.
"It's okay, kid," Burt said quietly, gruff yet somehow comforting in the way it'd always been. "It'll all be okay."
He would make sure of it.
They spent the next week catching up and getting to know each other, and Kurt had never felt so solid. He'd always felt as if he could disappear at any second, always an inch off the ground. Now, though, being with his dad and Blaine and having a reason to stay, he felt grounded and safe. He felt happy.
Blaine, for his part, was just happy to have a real family for once in his life. Burt was better than he could've ever imagined and he loved seeing Kurt in his element. Kurt was completely at ease and it made Blaine fall for him even more.
However, he couldn't stop thinking about his own parents. As much as he tried not to and as much as he knew he shouldn't, he missed them. He wanted to see them, whatever the consequences would be.
So, on Christmas Eve, while the Hummels were watching a movie, Blaine said he needed to go for a drive someplace, clear his mind. Kurt smiled and blew a kiss at him. "Hurry back!"
Blaine forced a smile in return. "I will."
With that, he left. He borrowed Burt's car and put his parents' address in his phone.
By the time he got there, it was dark, but he definitely recognized the house. Steeling himself, he marched up to the front door and rang the doorbell with one icy finger. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and waited.
Just before Blaine was about to ring the doorbell again, the door creaked open. Blaine was shocked to see his mom, Sandra Anderson, poking her head out from behind the door. Usually his father was the one to greet anyone who came knocking, and she sat passively in the living room.
"Blaine?"
Blaine hardly recognized her. Her hair was down in dark ringlets and her face looked brighter than he'd ever seen it. It was unlike her to look so human.
"Mom?" he asked, uncertain.
"Oh, Blaine," she said, smiling in what looked like relief. She stepped out from behind the door. "You're home."
"I… Where's dad?"
Her face fell. "He's… not here. Why? I thought you'd be happy not to see him here."
Blaine frowned, backing away slightly. "Why are you acting so weird? Where's dad?"
Sandra sighed, resigned. "Please come in? I'll explain everything, I promise."
Hesitantly, Blaine stepped inside, flinching away when she tried to touch his shoulder. She looked at him sadly as he moved to sit in the dining room. She closed the door and took a seat at the table, across from Blaine.
"I'm waiting for that explanation," Blaine said coldly. His confusion had momentarily distracted him from his bitterness, but said bitterness had built up for far too long to be forgotten. "Well?"
Sandra looked lost, still staring sadly at him as he glared at her. "I… I'm so sorry, Blaine. For… for everything. All I ever wanted was to be your mother, but I pushed you away because I was afraid of what he would do. I was weak for so long, Blaine." Her voice broke and she looked down shamefully as tears wet her cheeks. "I regret every single time I let him hurt you. But after you left, I realized that I couldn't keep pushing you away. I filed for divorce and I sent him away, but it was too late. You were already gone."
Blaine was still so confused. He didn't know whether to be more angry or hurt, or both. Either way, he wanted to cry. He wanted to forgive her and have his mom back, but he couldn't be so quick to trust her. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.
"And what makes you think I'll just forgive you? Why should I even believe you after everything you put me through? I was alone!" he cried, anger winning out. "I was hurting and I was dying inside, but you didn't do anything. I don't know how I'm supposed to forgive you for that."
"I don't expect you to forgive me," Sandra said, shaking her head. "I know I don't deserve that. I just wanted you to know the truth. Now you know."
"You broke my heart… so many times," Blaine said, his voice breaking. He pointed at her. "You could've helped me. You could've saved me but you never did."
"That's not true," she said softly. "I did save you. Once. I know you don't remember, but I found you after… after you tried to kill yourself." She broke off, shaking her head fiercely. "I took you to the hospital. But I couldn't bear to see the pain in your eyes when you woke up, so… I never went in your room. I couldn't."
"You…" Blaine stared at her in astonishment. "I needed you to be there!" he said harshly, standing up and backing away. "I needed my mom and you weren't there for me."
"I know," she whispered, staring down at the table. "I know I let you down. I wish there was a way to fix it, but I can't."
Blaine went silent, breathing raggedly as angry tears of hurt streamed down his face. When he did speak, it was barely audible. "Yes you can."
Sandra looked up at him, startled and wide-eyed. "I… How? I'll do anything, Blaine."
"This time around? Just be my mom. Be there for me."
With that, he stalked past her and up the stairs to his childhood bedroom. He gasped when he opened the door. It was exactly how he'd left it. His bed was messy after his haste to pack a bag and just leave. His top drawer was halfway open with clothes hanging out of it. Everything was the same except for one thing…
Blaine made his way to his old bed and studied the copy of The Order of the Phoenix that he remembered leaving on his nightstand. He liked to re-read that one. But now it was lying open and overturned on his pillow. He picked it up, dusted it off, and looked at the page that it was open to. There was one particular phrase that was actually highlighted and Blaine frowned, looking closer.
"Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike."
I know from experience, he thought bitterly. Then he realized why the line was highlighted, and who had most likely highlighted it.
"I know that one is your favorite," Sandra said softly from the doorway. Blaine turned to face her, not saying a word. "I was reading it and I found that quote… I couldn't stop thinking about it." Still, Blaine said nothing. "Blaine," Sandra said pleadingly. "I'm trying. Please, just… just talk to me."
"I know," Blaine said quietly. "I know you're trying."
Sandra nodded, realizing after a moment that Blaine wasn't going to say anything more than that. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"
Blaine shook his head. "No. Do you think you could, um, read to me? I really don't feel like talking."
I really don't feel like talking to you, she filled in silently, nodding sadly. She took a seat on the bed, leaning against the headboard as Blaine lay down beside her. He listened as she started reading at the beginning.
They were only a couple chapters in before Blaine yawned loudly.
"Do you want me to stop so you can sleep?"
"No."
Sandra smiled slightly. "Okay." She continued reading.
After another couple chapters, she felt Blaine wrap an arm tentatively around her waist, scooting closer to her.
"Blaine…"
"Mm, keep reading," Blaine murmured, yawning again.
It only took him one more chapter to fall asleep, comforted by the fact that his mother was finally there for him. He just hoped she wouldn't change her mind.
A couple hours later, Blaine woke up suddenly, screaming. He was breathing harshly as he sat up and looked around the room, panicking. "No, please, don't hurt him… don't hurt him…" He continued to mutter the plea over and over again as he felt a pair of arms surround him in a comforting embrace.
"Shh, honey, it's okay," Sandra whispered soothingly. "You're safe. No one is going to hurt you this time."
"No, they hurt him," Blaine sobbed. "They always hurt him. Always him. I couldn't save him. I couldn't. I'm so sorry."
Sandra's heart ached as she held her son tightly. She still hated those kids that did this to him, still hated that they never found them. She still hated that her son still suffered from the same nightmares years later.
"It's not your fault. I promise it's not your fault, Blaine," she said softly. "It's all right. It's all right."
"Call Kurt," Blaine begged. "Please call Kurt."
"Who's Kurt?"
Blaine continued to sob into her shoulder, muttering Kurt's name over and over. Desperate for a way to comfort her son, she grabbed his cell phone off of the nightstand and found 'Kurt' in his contacts. The number was a home phone but she decided to try it. Nobody answered.
She was determined, though. She tried a few more times but to no avail. After that, she realized that whoever this Kurt person was, Blaine had probably been staying with them since he'd come back to Ohio. Or maybe he'd been staying with them ever since he left home. Either way, it was a start. She opened up the GPS app on his phone and checked his recent destinations. The most recent was her house and the second most recent was a place in Lima. She decided that was her best option.
By now, Blaine had settled down just a bit. He was clinging to her and sniffling into her shirt. "Blaine?"
"Where's Kurt?" he asked pitifully.
"I'm going to find him for you, okay? Why don't you go back to sleep, sweetie?"
Blaine nodded, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into her embrace. Sandra smiled adoringly and scooped her son into her arms, wobbling just a little as she stood. Blaine opened his eyes again, frowning. "What are you doing?"
Sandra set him down and he stood, unsteady for a moment before he came to his senses. He wiped his eyes, yawning. "Kurt?"
"He's not here," she said gently.
"He's probably worried about me," Blaine said, frowning as if he just remembered something important. "I borrowed his dad's car. I need to bring it back."
Sandra nodded. "Okay. Why don't I take you back there? You're too tired to drive."
Blaine smiled, relieved. It still seemed like he was too tired to remember to put his walls up for her. He was vulnerable. And, while Sandra didn't want to take advantage of his willingness to accept her affections, she also wanted to make sure that he was okay after what was definitely a terrifying nightmare. She just wanted to protect her son.
So she helped a sleepy Blaine walk to Burt's car and took the wheel after helping him into the backseat. He yawned and leaned against the window. Sandra followed the GPS all the way to Kurt's house.
By the time they got there, it was four in the morning, but Sandra brought Blaine to the front door anyway. She knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer.
Surprisingly, the door flew open seconds later to reveal a young man, disheveled and exhausted. "Blaine! I was so worried about you!" he exclaimed. Blaine smiled sleepily and stepped forward to hug Kurt around the waist.
"Kurt," he sighed happily. Kurt smiled, relieved, and hugged him tightly. Then he looked at Sandra again.
"Who are you?"
"That's my mom," Blaine answered for her. "She brought me back here because I had a nightmare."
"You went to see your parents?" Kurt asked softly, surprised. But Blaine seemed much more interested in cuddling than answering questions. He may have been adorable when he was sleepy, but he could also be infuriating at times.
"I can explain," Sandra said hesitantly. "I didn't—"
"You," Kurt growled, holding Blaine protectively. "After all you put him through, you think you can just show up in his life and act like everything's fine? No! You don't get to do that!"
"Don't yell at her," Blaine said, pulling back with a frown. He seemed slightly more alert than before. He glanced at his mom before looking at Kurt. "I already did that. Just… trust me on this. You don't have to trust her yet—I'm not even sure if I trust her. But I need you to give her a chance, for me. If there's even a possibility that I can have my mom back, I'm not going to turn her away."
Kurt was torn between protecting Blaine and trusting him enough to risk him getting hurt again. Blaine squeezed his hand reassuringly and Kurt met his eyes. "I… All right. I trust you, Blaine."
Blaine lit up and Kurt knew he'd said the right thing. Although he was still hesitant, he did trust Blaine. And when he saw the guarded look on Blaine's face when he turned to address his mom, he relaxed a little. Now he knew that Blaine wasn't going blindly into this. Blaine would be okay. He would protect his heart, and even if he didn't, Kurt was there as an extra support to the walls he'd built up so carefully over the years. He wouldn't stand by and watch Blaine be hurt by her again.
"What's going on?" Burt asked gruffly, emerging from the hallway.
Kurt looked over at him. "Nothing. Well… Blaine's mom is here." Burt's eyes widened like he was about to explode but Kurt stopped him quickly. "I know. It's okay, though. Trust me."
Burt looked hesitant, understandably, but he nodded. "If I could have a minute, Mrs. Anderson?"
"Ms.," she corrected, smiling as if saying it out loud was an incredible relief.
Burt raised an eyebrow. Even so, he nodded for her to follow him into the kitchen. She followed silently as Kurt and Blaine shared a look.
"Upstairs?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded and they went together up to Kurt's old bedroom. They sat down on the bed, facing each other.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"She divorced my father," Blaine started.
Kurt nodded. "I guessed as much. But… are you okay? You said you had a nightmare?"
"I'm fine," Blaine smiled. "She helped me, surprisingly. Although, I need to be more careful with how vulnerable I am with her. I was too trusting so soon after waking up," he said, reprimanding himself.
Kurt smiled reassuringly, reaching up to brush a curl off of Blaine's face. "I won't let her hurt you again."
Meanwhile, downstairs, Burt and Sandra were having a little chat of their own.
"In the week I've known him, he's become like a son to me," Burt told her pointedly. "And I always protect my family."
"Of course," Sandra nodded. "I never meant to hurt Blaine the way I did. And I know I can't take back my mistakes, but I'm here now and I'm prepared to be whatever he needs me to be. I will do anything to fix this. I just want my son back." Determined, she added, "In case you're wondering, his father is no longer a part of the picture. I sent him away so that he wouldn't be able to hurt Blaine anymore."
Burt nodded, staring studiously at her in search of any signs that she could've been lying. He found none.
"I hope you know how much this means to him," Burt said. "And how much it would hurt him if you let him down again." It was quite obviously a warning, but Sandra wasn't fazed.
"I won't do that to him," she said fiercely. "I love that boy and it's about time I make things right."
Burt nodded, understanding. "Just one more thing. Don't push him, okay? He's spent most of his life not trusting you. It'll take time before he trusts you enough to let you in."
Sandra smiled sadly. "I know. I'm willing to wait as long as it takes to get him back."
Finally, Burt smiled, satisfied. "He'll get there. Your son has one of the kindest hearts I've ever seen. He'll forgive you, eventually."
"Thank you," she said, teary-eyed.
With permission from Burt, she decided to check on the boys upstairs. She knocked on the door just in case. She may have only seen them together for a few short moments, but she knew young love when she saw it. She'd learned to have faith in it because of her parents. And even though her ex-husband, Peter, had crushed her faith in love almost entirely, she could still recognize it.
Thankfully saving her from an awkward conversation, however, the situation was entirely innocent when she pushed the door open. She smiled at the boys but her heart clenched painfully when Blaine looked at her cautiously. "I hope you two don't mind… I made cocoa." She held out two mugs of steaming hot chocolate and slowly stepped inside.
"Thank you," Blaine murmured as he took one and Kurt took the other. He sipped the silky liquid graciously and sighed before speaking. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you—"
"Well I don't want to talk to you. We've talked enough for now and I'm exhausted."
"But it's Christmas," she pleaded.
"Like that's ever mattered before," he snapped. "It's never stopped you from going on some trip with dad and leaving me with one of his homophobic sisters. It never made you come visit me when I was in the hospital. So why should anything change this year?"
Sandra backed away sadly, taking the harsh words she knew she deserved. That didn't mean they hurt any less. "I'm sorry," she said before leaving and closing the door.
"Are you okay?" Kurt asked tentatively, tugging at Blaine's hand.
Blaine shook his head. "She doesn't get to act like I'm the one being mean. She abandoned me for most of my life! I have the right to be bitter! I have the right to be angry at her! She shouldn't get to make me feel guilty for that."
"I don't think she's trying to make you feel guilty," Kurt said slowly, even though he shared Blaine's anger. He still thought Blaine deserved a second chance at having a mother, even if he didn't think Sandra deserved a second chance at having a son. "I think she's just trying to be your mom. And I know you're angry, and you have the right to be, but I don't think you should be so quick to shut her out."
Blaine groaned in frustration. "I know. I know that, and I'm not trying to push her away. It's just… one minute I'm excited to have her in my life again, and the next I'm just angry all over again. It's too confusing having her here. I need time to really think before I let her be a part of my life again."
"We can't very well send her home this early in the morning, especially since she doesn't have her car here."
"I know," Blaine groaned. "I don't know what to do, Kurt. What am I supposed to do?"
"You're supposed to do whatever you feel comfortable with," Kurt said. "No one is going to force you to forgive her."
"Not helping," he sighed. "But I want to forgive her. I'm just not there yet."
"I know, honey. I know this is hard. It'll just take time to build some trust."
"That's the hard part," Blaine admitted.
"Why don't we start by spending Christmas with her?" Kurt suggested. "I think presents will have to be a bit late this year, anyway, since we showed up so unexpectedly, so why not spend the day getting to know each other?"
"She's like a stranger to me," Blaine said, as if just realizing this.
"My point exactly."
Blaine nodded, gulping. He had an idea. Maybe it was a little crazy, but wasn't that the case with most of his ideas as of late? He was going to take a chance.
They spent Christmas Day sitting in the living room like a regular family, although the atmosphere suggested something entirely different. The tension among the four of them was so palpable Blaine could almost taste it.
"Someone should start… besides me," he muttered.
"I guess I'll get things started," Sandra said timidly. "It's only fair, since you reached out to me first," she said to Blaine. "It's my turn to do the reaching out." She paused. "So, I guess I should start by saying that my divorce was final as of two weeks ago. Blaine, I want you to know that he will never be able to bother us again. The inheritance went to me but a lot of it is in your name, so you really didn't need to steal that three million."
Blaine looked down sheepishly. So that was why his parents hadn't come looking for the missing millions. She'd found out but she didn't care.
"Anyway, the point is… he's out of our lives."
Blaine felt an enormous weight lifted from his shoulders. He would never have to see that awful man again. He could let go of his fear that his father would come after him and hurt him all over again.
"I'll go next," Kurt said, breaking the silence as it grew too heavy. "I confess to stealing the cookies that were supposed to be for Santa… when I was seven."
Everyone burst into laughter and Blaine smiled gratefully at Kurt. He'd needed some kind of comedic relief to break the tension in the air. Now that the ice had broken, Blaine was comfortable being the next to confess something.
"I can't believe that I have a family now," he admitted, smiling tearfully.
Burt was next. "I… I've been seeing someone."
"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "Who?"
"Her name is Carole," Burt said. Kurt was shocked to see his dad blushing. "I like her a lot."
"I have to meet her," Kurt insisted.
"You aren't upset?"
"Why would I be upset?" He paused, smile falling. "Oh. Well, I mean, she could never replace mom—"
"And she would never try to."
"—but it'll be good for you. I hate seeing you so lonely when I'm not around."
Burt grinned. "All right, enough of the sappy stuff. Save it for your boyfriend."
Kurt blushed, smiling at Blaine.
They continued on like that for quite some time, and Blaine was beginning to trust Sandra's genuineness more and more. He wasn't entirely read to trust her yet, but at least he knew that she was willing to try.
Soon enough, it was getting late, and Sandra said that she should be getting home, so Burt offered to drive her home. Once they were gone, Blaine brought Kurt up to his room, closing the door behind them.
"Eager, are we?" Kurt asked, smirking playfully.
Blaine kissed the smirk right off of his face, heart pounding as he led Kurt to the bed before pulling him down on top of him. Blaine's legs hung off the bed as Kurt moved to his hands and knees above him.
Blaine grinned up at him, cheeks flushed and heart racing. As Kurt started unbuttoning Blaine's wrinkled top, Blaine stopped him. "Not yet," he said. "Just… just kiss me."
"Oh, I will," Kurt whispered in his ear. Blaine shivered, gasping as Kurt kissed down his neck and across his Adam's apple.
"Kurt," he whispered breathily.
Kurt hummed against the side of his neck and Blaine moaned softly, ending in a whine as Kurt bit down gently.
"You… You're getting good at this," he said with a breathless laugh.
"Well, we've had some practice," Kurt murmured against his heated skin.
Blaine whimpered, his feet scraping uselessly against the sheets as he tried to close the distance between Kurt's body and his own.
"I think we need some more practice," he whispered.
Kurt was more than happy to oblige.
Later that night, after Kurt was asleep with his head on Blaine's leg, Blaine pulled out his laptop and opened up his Dear Stranger document.
Dear Kurt,
I love you.
I had to say it. I couldn't keep this from you any longer.
I love you.
Love,
Blaine
It was short but it was probably the hardest one he'd ever written. Well, not quite.
He loved Kurt. He wasn't ready to admit it out loud yet, but there it was. He loved Kurt.
Next, it was time for what would probably be the most difficult letter to write. He opened up a new document, entitling it Dear Stranger 2.0
Dear Stranger,
I hope that when you read this, we'll have made progress in being a family. Right now, you're a stranger to me, but I hope we can change that. I hope that you won't hurt me again.
I know you're waiting for me to forgive you. I know that you're trying. So, now it's your turn to know something about me. I'm trying, too.
I'm trying to forgive you but I'm not there yet. Maybe, by the time you read this, I will be, but I'm not right now.
I know I already yelled at you for this, but I'm hurting and I need to rant. I need to release some of these bitter feelings or they're going to push you away. I don't want that.
Why didn't you care about me? Why couldn't you have given me any kind of sign to tell me that you were there? I NEEDED YOU THERE. Don't you understand? I NEEDED YOU. Why didn't you love me enough to be my mom? WHY couldn't you love me?
I know you're trying. I KNOW. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt that you never tried BEFORE. I need you to understand that I was ALONE. I've always been ALONE. There's nothing you can do to change that.
But now you have a chance, okay? Now you're back and you have a CHANCE. If you screw it up, I don't think I'll be able to forgive you. I just can't go through that kind of heartbreak again. It almost broke me once, but it'll DESTROY me if it happens again. You can't give on me, mom. You CAN'T give up on me, okay?
Please don't give up on me again. I'll never recover if you do. The first time, I could get over it. I was almost to the point where I could forget.
But this time? The biggest difference this time is that you've given me HOPE. And if you take that away, it'll break me forever.
I need you, mom.
Love,
Blaine
He saved the document and stowed his laptop in the nightstand drawer, wiping his teary eyes. It was useless, though. After that, he couldn't contain his sobs. He wrapped his arms around his middle and sobbed.
It'd been a long time since he'd cried this hard. Completely letting go, uncaring of the consequences.
The noise was quick to wake up Kurt, who sat up and blinked blearily at Blaine for a moment before his brain caught up. He wrapped his arms around Blaine as the man sobbed from his very core. Kurt had never heard such heartbreak come from one person.
He didn't ask what was wrong, because he had a pretty good idea. He was crying over his mom, that much was obvious. For now, though, the details weren't important. All he needed to know was that Blaine needed him, and he was going to be there for him.
That was all that mattered.
Although they'd only been planning to stay in Ohio until New Year's, plans changed when Blaine found his mom. Now they were in Ohio until an undetermined date and Blaine was beyond grateful for the chance to build his relationship with his mom.
A couple days after New Year's, just when Blaine felt like things were finally getting better, something sent his world spinning out of balance.
Kurt disappeared.
This time was so much worse than the other times Blaine had seen Kurt disappear. This time, he had a lot more to lose.
It happened early one morning, when frost was collecting on the window and Blaine had plans to cuddle with his boyfriend until at least noon. Blaine just about to pull the blanket tighter around them when Kurt's eyes fluttered open and he yawned. "Blaine?"
Blaine looked over at him and his heart dropped. The panic in Kurt's eyes was unmistakable. "Kurt? What's wrong?"
"I can feel it. I feel myself disappearing." He was hyperventilating now, staring at Blaine with terrified eyes. "I can't stop it this time."
"Kurt," Blaine said, shaking his head. "Kurt, please, you can't leave me. Please don't leave me again."
"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered, and then he was gone.
Now, it'd been three days since he'd disappeared and Blaine hadn't left his bed. Maybe he hoped that Kurt would suddenly reappear if he stayed there long enough. Or maybe he just couldn't believe this wasn't a bad dream.
On the fourth day, when Burt sat down on the edge of the bed beside Blaine, the boy threw his arms around him, clinging with all his strength. "Where could he be?"
"I don't know," Burt admitted. He sounded even more heartbroken than Blaine, and that was saying something. It was just that he was much more experienced in the art of waiting. He'd learned that Kurt always came back eventually. He just had to stop one thought from creeping to the front of his mind: what if this is the one time he doesn't?
"I miss him," Blaine whispered. "I hope he's okay."
"He's strong," was all Burt said. "He'll be okay."
I hope.
Kurt was somewhere in Europe, though he didn't recognize anything around him. He kept searching for something, anything, but he wasn't sure what he was searching for. He just needed to get back home. He kept trying to focus on his dad and Blaine and force himself to travel, but nothing seemed to work. He'd been there for six days before he just didn't know what to do anymore.
So, he went to sleep.
When Blaine woke up on the seventh day since Kurt's disappearance, it was to a loud noise from somewhere in the house. He sat up, startled, and cautiously went to investigate the noise. Burt met him in the hallway. They shared a look before splitting off, Blaine going into the kitchen while Burt went into the living room.
Blaine gasped as soon as he turned the corner, running over to the figure sprawled on the floor. "Kurt!" he cried, laughing in pure relief. "You're home…" He pulled the man into his arms but pulled back when Kurt winced. "What's wrong?" He frowned.
"My head hit the table when I landed in the kitchen," Kurt explained, groaning softly as he sat up with difficulty. "What'd I miss?"
Blaine laughed breathlessly, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter." He threw his arms around Kurt's neck. "You're home."
Kurt slowly wrapped his arms around Blaine's chest, closing his eyes and smiling into his neck.
As Burt watched from the doorway, he couldn't help but smile, too.
It was a month after Christmas when Blaine decided it was time to spend a night at his mom's house. Kurt was reluctant to let him go through with it given that he'd been having nightmares more frequently since coming back to Ohio.
"I'll be fine," Blaine assured him as he was packing an overnight bag. "It's just one night." Kurt sat on the bed between Blaine and the bag, pouting.
"Please don't go."
Blaine smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to his lips, grabbing his face gently. "I've made up my mind. And I have your number just in case, so you can stop worrying. I promise."
They'd both gotten low-end, pre-paid phones to use during their stay in Ohio, since Blaine couldn't exactly use his phone from France. International calls were too complicated, so it was easier to just have a temporary replacement.
Still, that didn't help to soothe Kurt's frayed nerves. "What if you wake up and you need me and I'm not there? I promised to always be there for you, Blaine."
"And you won't be breaking that promise because I'll be fine. Please stop worrying, okay? If you worry, then I'll worry, and then neither of us is happy. I need you to trust me on this."
Kurt continued to sit stubbornly on the edge of the bed for a while before his resolved cracked. "Fine. But you have to promise to call me if it becomes too much."
Blaine smiled softly. "I promise." He leaned down to kiss Kurt's lips soundly, nuzzling his nose before he pulled away. "It'll be okay."
"I hope you're right."
Blaine decided that he needed to give his mom the letter. He hadn't written another one since the first, and he needed his mom to know exactly how he felt. At that point, he was slowly moving towards forgiving her, and he even trusted her to some extent, but he needed her to know everything.
So, he printed out the letter and stuffed it in his bag right before they left. Kurt drove him in his own car, the one he hadn't used in years because he'd been gone.
When they got to the house, Sandra was waiting on the porch, wrapped up in a coat, scarf, and hat. She grinned brightly when she saw them step out of the car, and she walked up to hug Blaine. Blaine was pretty proud of himself for making enough progress that he could hug her back.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt said, kissing Blaine on the cheek. He lingered there for a moment, eyes closed and hand cupping his jaw. "I'm just a phone call away."
Blaine smiled at him, turning to peck his lips. "I know. I'll see you tomorrow."
Kurt left reluctantly and waved goodbye before driving away. Blaine waved back before turning to his mom. "Hi," he said, smiling hesitantly.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said, smiling softly. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me, too," Blaine said, surprised by how much he meant it.
They settled down and watched a movie together, content to enjoy each other's company in almost-silence. When the movie was over, he silently handed his mom the folded, slightly wrinkled letter.
"What's this?" she asked, taking the paper.
"Just read it," he whispered.
So she read it. She started crying at some point and Blaine watched anxiously as she read on. When she finished, she looked at him, speechless. But before he could say anything, she threw her arms around him. For a second, he lost his balance, but he wrapped his arms tightly around her chest and buried his face in her neck. He inhaled, calmed by the familiar scent that he'd grown to love.
"I love you, Blaine," she murmured, combing her fingers through his hair.
"I love you, too," he whispered, grinning into her shoulder. "Just so you know, I'm almost there. I think I'll be able to forgive you soon."
She let out a noise that was half-sob/half-laugh and Blaine hugged her even tighter.
"I'll never give up on you, Blaine," she whispered.
A few weeks later, they returned to Paris—they being Kurt and Blaine. In fact, they returned the day before Valentine's Day. As soon as they got back to the apartment, they dropped their bags and collapsed on the bed, exhausted after their long flight. "I'm so tired I could sleep for three days," Blaine groaned.
"Well, don't do that," Kurt said with a teasing lilt to his voice. "Valentine's day is tomorrow and we have plans, remember?"
Blaine grinned. "Oh, yes. That is tomorrow, isn't it?"
Kurt poked his side. "You're a dork. You are the one who came up with the plans. I don't even know what we're doing."
"Well, of course not," Blaine laughed. "That would ruin the surprise."
"So you didn't forget."
"Of course I didn't," Blaine said, turning on his side to smile brightly at his boyfriend. "It's going to be perfect, I promise. I even have a gift for you. Several, actually."
"Blaine!"
"What? I promise I didn't spend a dime."
Kurt glared at him, suspicious. "Oh, yeah, I believe you, Mr. 'let's-spend-a-fortune-on-the-Edith-head-ivory-disk-necklace-for-Kurt' Anderson."
"Hey, I knew how much you wanted that!" Blaine defended. "You looked so sad after losing the auction, so I… pulled some strings." He grinned.
"And I love it," Kurt said, cracking a smile. "I really do. But you really don't need to clean out your bank account to make me happy. You make me happy. And being with you makes me happy."
Blaine's smile softened. "I feel the same way." They went quiet, just smiling at each other, until Blaine caught sight of the wall out of the corner of his eye. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you about those maps ever since I met you. Why'd you hang them up?"
Kurt ducked his head. "I can take them down if you want. It's… it's stupid."
"No, it's not," Blaine promised. "Please tell me?"
Kurt couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes. "I wanted to make a record of everywhere I've ever been."
Blaine looked intrigued. "Why didn't you?"
"It wasn't my apartment to vandalize," Kurt said with a shrug. Blaine laughed. "Then you bought the place and I just never got the chance."
"Well, let's do it."
"Excuse me?"
"Let's make a record of your life," Blaine clarified, grinning. "I'll bet we have some string and thumb tacks around here somehow."
Kurt laughed, disbelieving. "Okay. Okay, let's do this."
They got to work, pushing thumb tacks into all of the places Kurt had ever been. Once they finished that part, they started stringing red yarn across the room, tying knots around each thumb tack before bringing the yarn to a new location and doing the same. When they wanted to connect points from two different maps that were on two different walls, they used a stool to reach the ceiling and bring the string up and down in a v-shape.
Once they'd connected every point to at least one other point, they stepped back to admire their work—and Kurt admired his own work, which included several yards of red yarn wrapped around Blaine. Kurt started laughing as he looked at the mess they'd made, and Blaine soon joined him. They'd been having so much fun, they didn't even care about the mess. In fact, in the spirit of Valentine's Day, they started arranging the red string into the shape of a heart on the floor.
Once they finished that, they laid down together on the string heart, hands linked between them in the center of their creation.
They were happy, in love, and too afraid to say it.
That last part would change very soon, if Blaine had any say in it.
The next day, Blaine woke Kurt up considerably before sunrise, smiling softly when Kurt stretched his limbs like a cat. "Kurt, sweetie, wake up. I have a surprise for you."
"Mmm," Kurt hummed, yawning and opening his eyes slowly. He looked around the room and smiled widely when he saw the result of their project. "Morning."
"Morning, sunshine," Blaine grinned. "Get dressed and we can go as soon as you're ready."
Kurt got dressed in comfortable yet fashionable clothes and followed Blaine as they made the short walk to the garage where he kept his truck. Once they were on the road, Kurt fell asleep in the passenger seat. Blaine couldn't help but smile.
The next time Kurt woke up, there were no buildings in sight except for a lighthouse. "We're here," Blaine said, grinning as he looked up at the towering lighthouse. "Come on, let's go."
Kurt yawned and followed Blaine over to the foot of the lighthouse. That was when he noticed the picnic basket in Blaine's hand. "What's all this?"
"This," Blaine said, "is your ideal date. Well, sort of. I changed dinner to breakfast and added sunrise to the already-planned sunset. But, other than that, this is what you told me about for your ideal date."
Kurt smiled softly, eyes still sleepy. "You're the sweetest."
Blaine grinned, setting the basket down and grabbing Kurt's hands. "I brought coffee."
Kurt brightened even more. "You're amazing."
Blaine laughed and urged Kurt to sit down on the blanket he'd spread out. Then he started unloading the food. Each of their coffee orders was in its own thermos and the rest of the food was kept warm by a heating pad in the bottom of the basket that had been powered by the plug in the car. There was sausage, bacon, and home-made Belgian waffles.
"You are amazing, Blaine Anderson."
"So you've said."
"Yeah? Well, I'm saying it again. I have the most amazing boyfriend of all time."
Blaine grinned, leaning over to kiss Kurt's lips. "I love you."
"This all looks so delicious—wait. What?" he spluttered.
Blaine smiled softly, grabbing Kurt's hand. "I love you."
Kurt was speechless for a moment before he smiled shyly. "Hypothetically?" he teased.
"Not even in the slightest," Blaine said, grinning with his eyes. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Kurt said, laughing happily and leaning in for a lingering kiss. "I love you."
"I've waited so long to say that," Blaine confessed.
"Me, too," Kurt agreed, smiling against Blaine's lips. "I love you," he whispered again.
"I have something for you," Blaine said. "Remember that present I mentioned? Well, it has to wait until after we eat."
Kurt grinned excitedly and kissed Blaine soundly once more before starting in on his food.
"This sunrise is beautiful," Kurt commented as they ate.
"The sunset tonight will be even more stunning," Blaine promised, smiling at the thought.
After a while, they finished eating, and Kurt turned to Blaine eagerly. "So, what's the surprise?"
Blaine bit his lip, moving the picnic basket to the side and scooting closer to Kurt. He handed his boyfriend a pile of papers and Kurt looked at him curiously. Blaine smiled nervously. "Just read."
Kurt started reading the letters silently, glancing up at Blaine as he did so.
"I made sure to add the date to all of them, so it's kind of like a documentation of our whole story," Blaine said softly, just to fill the silence.
Kurt continued reading, and Blaine wasn't sure which part made him start crying, but he started and couldn't seem to stop.
Blaine knew that Kurt had gotten to the letters where Blaine started calling him by name when he glanced up at Blaine and whispered Blaine's name.
Kurt broke out into a grin when he got to the letter where Blaine confessed his love for Kurt.
Then Kurt got to the most recent one, which Blaine had written the night before.
Dear Kurt,
I'm gonna marry you someday.
Here's to someday,
Blaine
Kurt looked up at Blaine, mouthing wordlessly for a moment. When he did find his voice, he asked, "Is this your way of proposing to me?"
Blaine grabbed his shaking hand, smiling reassuringly. "No. Not yet, anyway. I just want you to know that that's my plan. As long as you're on board." Kurt looked hesitant, and Blaine's heart pounded in his chest. "What is it?" he asked softly.
"It's just…" Kurt sighed. "I love you. I love you so much. But are you sure about this? I could still disappear at any second, and I can't promise I'll be able to find you again."
Blaine squeezed his hand, expression serious now. "You said you've been feeling better about it recently, right?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Hey," Blaine said softly, hoping to ease his fears. "Maybe if we figured out what it is that helps you control it? Do you think that'd help?"
"It might," Kurt admitted.
Blaine smiled. "Let's try, then. What do you focus on when you feel like you're about to disappear?"
"You," Kurt answered without hesitation. "I remind myself that I can't leave you alone again, and… it helps."
"So, do you think it has to do with your love for me?"
Kurt frowned. "I don't think that's what it is. Because I love my dad and having him around never helped much. Maybe… maybe it's you," he said, meeting Blaine's eyes seriously. Blaine's breath caught. "Maybe it's you that keeps me from disappearing. I mean, it's love, yes, but it's a different kind of love. You… you complete me." He paused, thoughtful. "When I disappear, it always feels like I'm coming undone. But being with you, I feel whole. I feel like I don't have to be afraid anymore. Do you think I'm making any sense?"
Blaine grinned at him. "I think that's perfect."
Kurt didn't seem entirely convinced, though. "I don't want to hurt you. There's still a chance I could disappear and never come back."
"I'm willing to take that chance," Blaine said, smiling softly. "Every day I get with you just reminds me that it's worth it. You are worth it."
Kurt smiled tearfully, voice wobbling as he spoke. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too. And we'll figure it out together, I promise. You are the only part of my life I've ever been sure about. We'll be okay. And, someday, I'm going to marry you."
"Someday," Kurt nodded. "Someday sounds just about right."
"I couldn't agree more."
And just as they would with any other important vow, they sealed it with a kiss.
Here's to someday.