Hey everyone! I know it seems like I abandoned this story, but I really haven't! I've been working hard to make it so much better and I have expanded plot points beyond what even I thought I could do with it at the beginning. Think of what was previously posted as a small taste of what's to come. I have another chapter ready to be beta'ed that I will be posting later this week. Probably Friday. Enjoy!
Kurt Hummel stared at his room. Boxes filled with his belongings occupied the corner closest to the door, and he was in the process of deciding what outfits to take with him to New York, and which to leave at home and exchange during holidays.
Blaine sat on Kurt's bed, which was the only thing in the room not covered with clutter. The only normality. Blaine was all-too-aware of what was coming in four days. He dreaded it. The moment when Kurt would slip from his arms off to the uncharted territory of New York City. Destined for greatness, he was leaving Blaine in Ohio. Sure, they would have Skype dates and phone calls every day, but it wouldn't be the same.
Kurt's smell, his energy, the casual Lima Bean setting they were so accustomed to. It would all be missing. Blaine didn't know if he could last more than two weeks without Kurt beside him in the flesh, let alone an entire school year.
"Kurt…Kurt can you, maybe take a break from all this packing?" Blaine asked. He was tired of letting his mind wander. They had carefully avoided discussing what the time apart would do to their relationship. Maybe if they didn't talk about it, it wouldn't happen. But the inevitable was coming. Both boys could feel it approaching faster than a freight train.
"No Blaine, I'm so behind, I…" Kurt trailed off as he turned to face his boyfriend. Blaine looked so disheartened. Were those…tears in his eyes? "Baby…baby what's wrong?" Kurt sat beside Blaine on the bed. His arm snaked around the younger boy's waist and before he knew it Blaine was in tears, snuggling into his neck.
"I just don't know how I'm going to do this. I…I love you so much, Kurt. I just know you're going to be something great in New York," Blaine sniffed, wiping his eyes. Kurt smelled like vanilla and cinnamon with an undertone of garden fresh, from his fabric softener. Blaine took a shaky breath and held the scent as long as he could. "I can't help but feel I'm going to hold you back from being all you can be. I mean, what if you're there and you meet someone…" Blaine looked at Kurt, who stared at him with concern in his eyes.
"Blaine, I love you. I will always love you. I love only you. Besides, it's just a year, and then you'll be in the city with Rachel and me. You certainly aren't going to singlehandedly ruin my entire career in that length of time." Kurt held Blaine close, wrapping his arms around the younger boy's shoulders. "Stop worrying, Blaine. Everything will be okay," He kissed Blaine's forehead. "But I really do have to get back to packing. There's so much to go through…I don't know how I'm going to get this all done. Would you mind putting all my McQueen sweaters on the bed so I can pick and choose? Thanks."
Blaine crossed to Kurt's closet. He filed through the massive collection until he found the sweaters Kurt wanted and lined them up neatly.
And so the evening went. The boys laughed together as they scoured Kurt's entire wardrobe until he had a full, functional, and flawless set of clothes for New York City and an equally fabulous collection for his closet in Lima. To Blaine's surprise and Kurt's insistence, they managed to place the clothes he was taking with him into two boxes.
"I told you if you folded them right they would all fit." Kurt smirked at Blaine as he taped the second box.
"My boyfriend, the packing genius. Who would have guessed?" Blaine laughed as Kurt rolled his eyes.
Blaine sat down on the once-again empty bed, and waited for Kurt to add the new boxes to his corner stack.
Blaine glanced to the clock on Kurt's wall.
"Kurt, it's midnight. Which means it's Friday. Which means you leave in three days…counting today…" Blaine said. He blinked back tears for the second time that day. Suddenly, Kurt was beside him, placing soft kisses over his face. Blaine could have sworn Kurt was crying too.
Kurt broke away for a moment. Blaine was right, there were tears falling down his cheeks. "I…can you stay…tonight? I want to…make love to you." He whispered the last part as he leaned toward Blaine's lips.
Kurt ran his hand down Blaine's arm, tracing the outlines of his muscles; trying to memorize every line – every texture. He toyed with the hem of Blaine's shirt before allowing his fingers to crawl underneath. The two parted lips to remove the garment. Kurt did away with his own shirt and threw it across the room, for once not caring where it landed.
Nothing mattered. There was nothing but touch. Smell. Senses.
Blaine basked in the wonderful scent that was so purely Kurt. He tried to place it in his memory, exactly how it was in that moment. Just in case he needed it for later. He knew he would.
In the silence of Kurt's bedroom, the boys were afraid to make a sound. They feared any sudden movement or unexpected noise might ruin the moment. It might make time move correctly again, because as long as they were connected skin-to-skin at mouth and hip on Kurt's bed, there was no time. Perhaps if they silenced themselves long enough, they wouldn't have to part; they could stay here where there was only flesh and sweat and tears and Kurt and Blaine. There was only belonging; true and pure. Waves of pleasure rolled through each body as they rocked together in perfect sync.
It wasn't long before the boys fell asleep, a mess of arms and legs and dreams; wishing for forever. But forever was far too short.
When Kurt opened his eyes, sun was shining through the window. He blinked at the brightness and tried to collect himself. He'd had a wonderful dream and Blaine was there and…oh.
That part wasn't a dream.
Blaine's arms were wrapped protectively around Kurt's torso as he slept on. Kurt smiled down at the boy. He was so beautiful. He looked like the statues of Greek gods in museums, with his perfectly sculpted body and dark curls.
Blaine stirred around Kurt. "Hey there, handsome," he whispered and nuzzled into Kurt's neck to place a tender kiss at the edge of his jaw.
"Hey," Kurt smiled and fingered Blaine's curls.
Blaine hugged Kurt closer. "I don't want to let you go. Can we freeze time? I heard Brittany say something about a time machine."
"Brittany doesn't know the first thing about time travel. She's probably been thinking her cat's litter box holds the secrets of the universe or something," Kurt rolled his eyes as he spoke. Blaine loved coming up with these crackpot ideas just to make him giggle.
"From what I remember, Lord Tubbington is not nyancat." Blaine stared at Kurt with false seriousness.
Just then, a cough sounded from the top of the stairs. Finn was standing there glancing awkwardly between a very naked Kurt and Blaine. His eyes widened.
"Finn, I told you to knock when the door is closed. And that's always!" said Kurt as he swiftly pulled up the blankets.
Finn covered his eyes with his hands. "Uh…I'll just…Does anyone know…that he…No I guess not…um…your dad wants you to go ahead and put your boxes in the garage…I'm gonna…bye…" He rushed out of the room and slammed the door.
"Well, so much for a romantic wake up," Blaine laughed as he sat up and glanced at the clock. "I should probably go home. It's eleven and my parents think I stayed with Wes and David last night. Better get going before they suspect anything different." He got up and pulled on his pants and shirt. Kurt stayed on the bed, admiring his boyfriend.
He really was beautiful.
Blaine turned to see Kurt staring. "Are you okay?"
Kurt smiled. "I just love you, so much."
Blaine had finished dressing and crossed to Kurt again. He leaned down and stroked the boy's cheek. Closing the distance between their faces, he whispered, millimeters away from Kurt's lips, "and I love you. Always." Their lips locked in a gentle kiss, and then Blaine was breaking away. "I'll call you tonight. Oh, and I'm still picking you up for the party, right?" Kurt smiled. Blaine, along with the rest of the junior members of New Directions had planned a special night to say goodbye to the graduates officially. Most of the group was going their separate ways, and they figured it would be nice to have one last night to reminisce.
Kurt beamed. "Of course you are. See you tomorrow."
As Blaine left, Kurt lay back down. He had to admit, he was a little frightened of the future.
Blaine lived in a fancy gated community that he felt was too stiff. As he pulled onto the drive and scanned his key card at the admit booth, the boy heaved a deep sigh. It seemed the only place true happiness existed was in the arms of Kurt Hummel.
After this weekend Blaine would have to find a new happy place.
The singer pushed all thoughts of Kurt away as his house came into view. He parked his car and checked himself in the mirror to make sure he didn't need to hide anything.
Hair gelled to perfection? Check.
No hickeys? Check.
Eyes devoid of emotion? Check check.
Blaine locked the car doors and crossed to the front door. He took a deep breath for strength and opened his door quietly.
"Hey, I'm home," he called into the massive entrance hall.
His father appeared at the top of the stairs. "I demand an explanation."
Blaine tensed. How could he know…? Unless… "Explanation of what?" He locked his face like stone as he tried to turn himself off. What was about to happen was inevitable. It was something Blaine had dealt with since he came out freshman year.
"Don't stand there with that ignorant expression on your ungrateful face. You. Lied. To. Us." The man punctuated each word with a forceful step forward until his face was inches from Blaine's. "We know you spent last night with that Hummel character. Your mother went to drop off your things with Wes and you weren't there."
Blaine stared at the floor.
"I thought I told you I didn't want you seeing him anymore." If looks could kill, Blaine's father would be Westerville's latest homicide criminal.
Blaine opened his mouth, changed his mind, and closed it again.
"So what did you do with him? Hmm?" Mr. Anderson grabbed his son's shoulders, forcing him to look up. "What sinful acts did you commit last night?" Blaine looked into the man's eyes. "Oh don't give me that shit. We both know you fucked him. You nasty. Little. Whore."
…It had never been this bad before. Not when they argued about Kurt. It was usually an argument about Kurt's effeminate nature or Blaine's father wanting to turn his boy into a replica of him: straight, upper-class workingman. Never had the subject of sex come along. It made Blaine twitch with anger – how his father could talk about what he did with Kurt in such a disgusting way. It wasn't like that…it was the opposite….Something inside Blaine snapped.
"Dad…stop…" Blaine pulled himself away from his father's grasp. "What I do in the safety of my boyfriend's bedroom is not and will never be your business." He was shaking. "Do you think this is some goddamned phase? Really, dad? Because I would have taken getting the shit beat out of my freshman year as a sign if it was just a fucking phase. What about that time you set me up with the girl next door? How she dropped me before our "date" was over because I couldn't talk about anything straight enough? Remember Rachel Berry – the kiss that made me feel nothing? Why can't you just accept me, dad? There are a lot worse things I could be. If you hate me because I'm gay, you need to do some fucking reflection on what life means to you."
Blaine stood in the entrance hall, gasping for breath as if he'd just run a marathon. The teen stared at his father, daring him to say anything else.
"Get out…of my house. Come back…when you have some goddamned manners." Blaine's father pointed his quivering finger at the door.
"Gladly." Blaine opened the door and slammed it shut behind him. He drove away in his car as Mr. Anderson watched from the window.
"Faggot," he whispered shakily.
Blaine drove his car to a rest stop thirty minutes away. He parked and sat in silent rage. He finally slammed the steering wheel as tears began to flow with a violent freedom.
He kept asking himself the same questions: Why am I never good enough? Why do I work so hard to just be torn down for something I can't control?…Why can't I like girls?
Blaine Anderson was perfection in every area. Except for one area that mattered the most. Home.