I haven't written something decent in a while, but I was hit in the face with this inspiration when reading a different story. It used the song Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars. Without further ado, I present I Don't Love You, But I Always Will, which is a lyric from the song Poison and Wine mentioned above. I give all credit where credit is due.
Disclaimer: I don't own the character, or the song inspiration which is listed above.
Summary: It was stupid. Everything about the situation was stupid, especially when he tried to explain it to his friends. "We just... grew apart." He would always end up saying, even though it was never quite right. It wasn't that they grew apart; it was that they... grew tired of each other.
There were nights when Kurt would be forced to sleep on the lumpy living room couch because he couldn't deal with the scent of him on their sheets in the bedroom. He had washed them countless times, but couldn't get his scent out of them. It seemed to be useless to even try anymore. Besides, the couch was feeling more and more like home as time went on.
It all started with Kurt coming home late, since he booked his first Broadway show as peddler number three, complete with a whole line of "Yes sir". It wasn't much, but it was just enough to get his footing in the industry, which is exactly what he needed. It finally blew up after two weeks of him stumbling into their New York apartment, drunk on exhaustion. Kurt wasn't expecting Blaine to be sitting at the island in the kitchen waiting for him with two places set.
"Blaine, I'm so sorry," Kurt sincerely said, the exhaustion ebbing off in order for him to give a proper apology.
"Don't worry about it," Blaine said, sliding off the island stool. He walked off into their bedroom with Kurt hot on his heels.
"I wasn't thinking when I planned one of our final rehearsals with a date," Kurt tried to explain himself, as Blaine began undressing for bed, not even bothering to acknowledge Kurt's existence in the room. Kurt took a few steps closer and whispered, "Blaine."
"I said don't worry about it," Blaine snapped and turned around so fast that Kurt recoiled as if he had been slapped.
A heavy silence fell as they stared at each other in their darkened room with the red digital clock blinking 2:47am. It was as if the world had stopped for their fight. The only reminder being as the clock flipped to 2:48am.
"I'm sorry," Kurt mumbled, walking over to grab some pajamas from his dresser.
"It's fine," Blaine harshly said, sinking into the edge mattress.
"What does that mean?" Kurt angrily asked, whipping around to face his lover. It was as if Blaine didn't even care at all.
"It just means that you're always coming home late and leaving early. I never see you anymore. And, this isn't the first date you've broken," Blaine explained, his voice growing more and more meek as the words spilled out.
Kurt dropped his pajamas onto the floor, as he went to crawl across the bed. He knelt behind Blaine, wrapping his arms around Blaine's torso.
"I'm sorry, Blaine," Kurt sincerely said, dropping a kiss on Blaine's neck as the curly haired man nodded, finally accepting the apology.
It had been two weeks that he holed up in his apartment with reminders of his old life – his happy life with him – all around him. It wasn't until Mercedes heard from Rachel, who was still traipsing around New York with the two men she went to NYU with, that he was pulled out of his apartment.
"Hey boo," Mercedes said, letting herself into Kurt's apartment with a spare key that she got when he first came out here nearly five years ago.
"What?" Kurt groggily asked, as Mercedes put down the groceries she picked up and went over to open all of the curtains in the living room that Kurt had converted into his makeshift bedroom.
"I have an exciting day for us," Mercedes chirped, smiling at the sunlight that was now dancing across the room. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, as she walked into his room and gather up an outfit.
"I can dress myself," Kurt defiantly said, stumbling into his old bedroom, not making eye contact with his empty side of the room.
"I don't think so," Mercedes said, gesturing to his hamper that was full of T-shirts, sweats, and loose jeans. She pulled out a perfect, mature Kurt-esque outfit. She passed it to him, before pulling him towards his bathroom, "You're going to take a shower, change into this. I'm making you Benedict eggs and buffet breakfast. Then, you're going to show me around Central Park and we're going to do some retail therapy."
"Mercedes," Kurt whined, hardly holding the clothes she picked out.
She didn't even have to say a word, since her patent serious look was enough for him to close the bathroom door and start running water.
After that night, the fights stopped. Kurt even made it a point to have lunch with Blaine when he schedule seemed fit. They worked to do more things together on the weekend, instead of focusing on their respective careers. Kurt's run in the play had ended, and the two of them drove back to Ohio to see Kurt's parents. Things were back to normal. However, things can never stay normal.
The next round of arguments started with petty things, before escalating out of control. One night it was somehow hadn't changed the toilet paper roll, which turned into someone dipping into their mutual funds more than the other. Or, Blaine making those toothpaste speckles on the mirror when he brushed his teeth. Another incident was Kurt sliding his chilly hands down the back of Blaine's shirt, which instantly turned into a round of scathing words. One key factor for these was no matter the topic, no matter the intensity or words exchanged, they never went to bed angry, until they did.
It started over a drive back from Rachel's new apartment, which resulted in them getting lost through the confusing roads of New York. It had been a long night, which led to short tempers and a brewing argument.
"Why don't you just stop and ask for directions?" Kurt asked, as Blaine turned around the same block for the third time. It could have come off as a friendly question, but Kurt's voice had a bit of a sharp edge to it.
"Why don't you help look for familiar road signs?" Blaine instantly snapped back.
It was enough to shut Kurt up, until they passed the same billboard.
"Admit it, you're lost," Kurt scoffed, already knowing the number to call if he ever needed a new Toyota.
"You're not much help," Blaine said, as Kurt started fumbling with his iPhone to get directions back home, which Blaine noticed, "Stop playing Fruit Ninja and help me get us home."
"I'm looking up the directions!" Kurt nearly screamed in the small car, having it about up to the top of the Chrysler Building with Blaine's attitude.
Another silence fell, until the GPS connected with the satellite. Then, Kurt calmly read off the directions to Blaine. They pulled into their parking garage and suddenly the white noise of the radio was gone. It was a tense silence that followed them right up into their bedroom. Kurt sank into the sheets, still boiling with anger on the inside towards Blaine that revolted around Fruit Ninja. He was not always playing that game.
"I'm not always playing Fruit Ninja, you know," Kurt coldly said, as Blaine tugged his head through a shirt.
"I know," Blaine tiredly said, failing at suppressing a yawn.
"You just so quickly assumed that I was playing, since you had gotten us lost," Kurt's words jabbed at Blaine, who was waking enough to defend himself.
"You were playing Fruit Ninja when I had that important doctor's appointment when I thought I had testicular cancer," Blaine brought up, even though it was a six month old topic about a benign cyst.
"I told you countless times that I needed something to cope with the fact that you might have cancer," Kurt said, his voice escalating as the sentence went on.
"You should have been there for me," Blaine sadly said, playing the sympathy card, "I needed someone there and you were playing Fruit Ninja."
"You were the one who was trying to break my high score when I was waiting to see if I got that big role," Kurt said, grasping at the metaphorical straws for a comeback.
"Oh, a big role? You mean peddler number two?" Blaine sarcastically asking, throwing salt in the wound over the fact that Kurt didn't get his big role, settling for peddler number three.
"I can't even look at you right now," Kurt confessed, using a patent storm out of the bedroom, complete with a door slam.
"Kurt," Blaine whined, knowing that he had taken it entirely too far.
"I don't want to hear it," Kurt said, flopping onto the couch, wrapping an afghan around his body.
"Kurt," Blaine softly said, sitting on the end table across from Kurt's form that was facing away from him.
"No, I was going for a big role," Kurt defiantly said, disappointed in the fact that Blaine would bring that up, considering how upset it had made him.
"I know," Blaine said, extending a hand to rest on Kurt's shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.
"Don't touch me," Kurt said, his words coming out with a vicious bite.
It was the end of their conversation. Blaine sat on that end table until he heard Kurt snoring. Then, it was time for him to turn into bed.
After Mercedes stayed for her week, which included getting Kurt out of his apartment every day, cleaning the remnants of him out of the apartment, getting Kurt back into his bedroom, and auditioning for several roles. Since her leave, Kurt slipped into a routine that he could go through like a zombie. It worked like clockwork day in and day out. He woke up, went to the theater, got take out on the way home, showered, and went to bed. Rinse and repeat.
The numbness which Kurt went through daily was only intensified when Thanksgiving rolled around. He didn't quite tell his parents about the split, even though it happened around March. They invited them – Kurt and him – out to Lima for Thanksgiving. Kurt declined without much excuse. Suddenly it was Christmastime in the city, which is normally beautiful and breathtaking. However, Kurt couldn't be motivated by it. It seemed to be the time of year when loving families and couples emerged from their humble homes to explore the city at its finest. It sickened Kurt.
It sickened Kurt so much that he declined another family holiday offer, deciding that he needed to escape. He truthfully told his family that he was going to Paris with a lying undertone that Blaine was going as well.
Kurt's week in Paris consisted of moping and spiraling completely downward. He spent the majority of his money on getting drunk, meeting gay men in bars, and taking them back to his hotel room. He ignored everyone back from the states that tried to contact him on his week away from reality, which led to his demise. It was like every man he let have his way with him made him blissfully forget about the man that caused him all this pain to begin with.
Kurt and Blaine settled into a simple routine of not talking; just generally avoiding each other to avoid the inevitable arguments that happened whenever they were around each other. It would be a simple jab, but enough to turn into a screaming match. In fact, sometimes it would be a simple request such as "Can I have the remote?" which would turn into childishly latching onto the remote, exclaiming "You didn't give it to me when I asked last time".
Finally, over a Chinese takeout dinner that consisted of chopsticks scraping along the cartons and no conversation, Blaine sadly says, "I can't make you happy anymore."
Kurt just stared at Blaine, weighing the words for what they're worth, wondering how they ended up here. When he looked back he can't find the exact snapping point that brought them to this conversation.
"You deserve to be happy," Blaine said, his voice catching as Kurt just continued to watch his movements, "Even if it's not with me."
"What?" Kurt asked, his voice barely above a whisper and absolutely laced with disbelief. How did they get here, dammit?
"I just... I've been thinking about this for a while," Blaine said, his eyes welling up with tears.
"Thinking about what?" Kurt cautiously asked, hoping that it wasn't what he was thinking of.
"About us fighting all the time. It's not healthy. I think we should take a break," Blaine said, his words dropping like bombs as Kurt's temporarily forgot how to breathe. It was exactly what he was dreading.
"You want to break up?" Kurt softly asked, squeezing his eyes shut as Blaine nodded.
It wasn't clear who started sobbing first, but within a minute of Blaine's nod, neither of them had proper Dalton composure. The food was ignored as they tried hugging their breaking heart back together. It felt like they were embracing for hours. Blaine pulled away the slightest bit, "I'm going to stay with Joey for a few weeks until I get an apartment."
"You're leaving now?" Kurt asked, his eyes growing as large as saucers.
"We've been arguing a lot. You can't say that you didn't see this coming," Blaine said, trying to be firm and get out with a semi-clean break. Hopefully clean enough where they could be friends again in the future if they felt inclined to do so.
It was Kurt's turn to nod. He bit down on his lip to stop from anymore sobs being wracked out of his body.
"Goodbye Kurt," Blaine said, pressing his lips chastely to Kurt's as their tears mixed on their cheeks.
Then, Blaine gathered up two pieces of luggage and left their apartment.
Once Kurt got back from Paris, he rummaged through the hall closet where he managed to stash some of his belongings when Mercedes was cleaning him out of the apartment. Kurt was overwhelmed with the absolute scent of him. The porcelain skinned man pulled an old T-shirt over his head, surrounded himself with happier times between the two of them, and spritzed some of his lover's cologne in the air. Then he cried himself to sleep right there on the hard wood floor of the foyer.
He was woken by the sound of his vibrating phone, which only after he answered did he realize was Rachel.
"Hi Kurt! I've decided you're coming over tonight. We haven't had a proper night together in the longest time. I'm having a few other friends over. We're just going to be around in my apartment..." Rachel continued to babble as Kurt's heart ached thinking about the location Rachel's apartment. It had caused a petty fight.
"Anyway, you can bring Blaine –" Rachel caught Kurt's attention with his name.
"Blaine and I aren't together anymore, remember?" Kurt agonizingly said, as saying his name burned a whole in his chest.
"Oh, right," Rachel quickly shut up, not even sure how to bounce back from an awkward situation like that.
"Yeah," Kurt awkwardly forced himself to say to fill the lack of conversation on the line. Then, he looked down at the shirt he was wearing and the items around him. He needed to get out, "What time should I come over?"
"Oh," Rachel perked up, giving him the details before promptly hanging up to stop herself from saying anymore that might hurt her friend.
It was then that Kurt decided to pack up Blaine's box for a final time and putting it back in the closet. He needed to get over him and move on. They broke up because he wanted Kurt o be happy. So, Kurt was on a mission to be happy.
Kurt got home from his third night alone in the apartment. It was awkwardly and lonely coming home to an empty apartment with no one to tell his day to. But, he didn't even think that they'd make it to three days alone. Blaine left once before, but was back before the sun came up the next morning. So, imagine Kurt's surprise when Blaine was in their bedroom.
"Oh, you're back," Kurt noted, putting down his things for work. He took comfort in the fact that Blaine was back home. He was comforted until he noticed a suitcase at his feet.
"I didn't think you'd be home so early today," Blaine said, knowing that Tuesdays were one of Kurt's long days.
"We got out early," Kurt said, focusing more on the suitcase, "So, you're not back?"
"We broke up, Kurt," Blaine firmly reminded his ex-boyfriend, as the words stung the both of them, "I was just getting the last of my things."
"Oh," Kurt said, his face and hopes dropping.
"I can come back another day to finish this," Blaine said, not wanting this to be any more uncomfortable than it already was.
"No, it's fine," Kurt said even though it wasn't fine at all, "I'll just be in the living room watching a movie or something."
"Are you sure?" Blaine tentatively asked, already feeling the level of awkward rising.
"I'm sure. You finish what you're doing," Kurt said, backing out of the room, as he decided he couldn't be anywhere around here, "Maybe I'll go treat myself to a sit down dinner."
"That sounds like a good idea," Blaine said, as Kurt turned on his heel and walked out of his apartment with stinging eyes.
Kurt went to his favorite Chinese takeout restaurant, ordered the same meal as always, but ate in the small dining room. It was delicious and helped clear his head, since Blaine was actually leaving him. It wasn't a temporary fight. They were over. He thought about it the entire time he ate, the entire walk home, and even more when he found Blaine's key sitting on the island with a note.
"Thank you for letting me finish today. I don't want this to be too hard on either of us." Blaine wrote signed with his name and a smiley face.
Kurt stared at the smiley face, willing the crescent to flip upside down to match his mood. The smiley face was awfully vindictive. It was mocking him and his unhappiness.
A week after Rachel's apartment soiree, he's going to her show's opening and after party as her date. It honestly couldn't have had better planning on her part, since that night would mark the first year anniversary of their breakup. He shouldn't be wallowing around in his own apartment.
The show was fabulous, even though Rachel was only a minor character; she certainly had more of a part than Kurt did as peddler number three. Kurt wasn't even thinking of him as Rachel showed off her date to several directors and stage crew members and fellow actors. It was all good networking for their careers. They arrived at the after party fashionably late, after drinking a lot in the limo with her love interest and sisters in the Broadway show.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom. You find our table, okay?" Kurt said, as Rachel earnestly nodded. He leaned in for a quick hug in the corridor outside of the banquet hall, "Thank you for this."
"Anytime, Kurt," Rachel said, kissing Kurt's cheek, before turning away to find their table.
Kurt emptied his bladder, washed his hands, tipped the attendant, and walked straight into a solid body on his way out of the room.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Joey said, straightening his tie.
"No, it was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," Kurt said at the same time, smoothing his hair.
It took a quick second for them to realize who the other one was. Then, they spoke in unison again.
"How is Blaine?"
"How are you doing?"
They shared an awkward laugh, before Joey decided to start first, "Blaine's good. He's here somewhere."
"What?" Kurt blanched, not hiding a hint of shock on his face.
"My girlfriend was part of the chorus line, so we're her dates," Joey said with unspoken and understood words about the importance of the March date.
"Okay," Kurt said, still a bit shellshocked by the information, "I should go find my own date."
"Oh, you came with a date?" Joey asked, his voice full of curiosity.
"Yeah, Rachel Berry," Kurt said as Joey let out a breath of relief.
"Well, it was good seeing you. Hopefully I'll see you out there on the dance floor," Joey said, pushing the bathroom door open and disappearing inside.
It wasn't that all of their times were full of arguments, just the ending. In fact, they were once happy, like ridiculously happy. It seemed like the movies would be jealous of how happy they were together. They were able to talk literally anything through, and just enjoyed each other's general company.
Kurt vividly relives their last happy moment every time he experiences a moment of bliss, but it's never as elevated as it was that one night. It was the beginning of fall, and just beginning to get chilly outside. It was still warm enough for ice cream though, which was important to Blaine at this point in time. Kurt laughed at his enthusiasm for ice cream.
However, Blaine was not amused with Kurt's stoicism towards getting ice cream. They were useless calories, Kurt repeated like a mantra trying to make some part of it stick in Blaine's mind. It didn't work because next thing Kurt knows they were standing in an ice cream shop ordering a medium cup with two spoons.
Kurt was allowing Blaine to eat the majority of the cup, managing to cut back on his empty calories this way. Kurt wasn't even paying attention when Blaine scooped up some of the ice cream onto his finger, before wiping it on Kurt's nose before laughing and running down the street. Kurt was miffed for two whole seconds before running after Blaine to wipe his nose on Blaine's shirt. Kurt stuck his own finger in the ice cream, chasing Blaine down the street a little more to smear it on Blaine's forehead.
"I'm like Simba now," Blaine happily proclaimed, as they found another bench and calmly finished their ice cream with amicable chatter.
He spent a year trying to get as happy as he was in that moment, only to continuously fail.
"What do you mean he's here?" Rachel asked, not comprehending why Kurt was currently freaking out.
"I mean he's here as a date," Kurt said, already anticipating Rachel's next question, "He's here with Joey and Joey's girlfriend."
"Do you want to leave?" Rachel apprehensively asked, hoping that he didn't want to part from the party.
"No," Kurt firmly said, not letting Blaine have this hold over him anymore.
"Are you going to be okay then?" Rachel asked, looking over Kurt's shoulder to a tall man with blue eyes that Kurt recognized as one of the stage crew.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Kurt said, sitting down at the table as Rachel followed in suit, "No, you go dance with that man that keeps looking over here."
"I don't think I should leave you alone right now," Rachel said, showing off how good of a friend she could be since she grew up since high school.
"It's okay. I'm letting you go before I change my mind. So go!" Kurt said with a smile, as Rachel stood up.
"You're perfect, you know that right?" Rachel said, towering over him.
"I do know that, but it can always be reiterated," Kurt snidely said with a smile, no longer wallowing in self pity.
"Cocky," Rachel muttered, placing a kiss in the top of Kurt's head before walking off to the stage crew man who she kept making eyes at.
Kurt idly sat at the table, drinking whatever the waitresses were offering up as everyone else was dancing on the floor. Finally, a very slow couple dance song came on, making people who weren't dancing to the more pop hits to get on the floor. There was only one other man sitting down for this dance. Kurt would recognize that head of hair anywhere. And, he must have felt Kurt's eyes on him because he turned in his direction. Kurt shortly waved his hand with a faint smile. Then, he looked down at his empty water glass.
"Would you like to dance?" Blaine asked, extending a hand down towards his ex-boyfriend.
"Would that be the best idea in a situation like this?" Kurt asked, not sure how he felt about dancing with his ex on the anniversary of their break up. It just seemed like a recipe for disaster.
"I'm not sure," Blaine confessed, "But, we can't be the only two squares not dancing to this song."
Kurt thought about all those men in Paris that he can't even remember the names or faces of at this point, before deciding that he's done a lot more risqué things than dancing with Blaine. Kurt looked up at Blaine, before taking his hand for him to lead them out to the floor. Blaine snaked his arm around Kurt's waist, while Kurt placed his hand on Blaine shoulder as their free hands intertwined.
The song quickly ended as they started dancing, which made them stop swaying for a beat until another slow song was pulled up. Kurt instantly recognized it from Grey's Anatomy. Just thinking about the lyrics and their relevance was enough for tears to spring up into Kurt's eyes.
"Is this okay for you?" Blaine asked, trying to pull away from Kurt who continued to hold him close.
"Just wait for the chorus," Kurt said, holding back the tears as Blaine spun them in lazy circles around the floor.
It was easy falling back into moments like this because they will always love each other. It would be hard to break something that was five years strong, even if they had a treacherous year apart due to picking fights over miniscule things. It was useless to even fight the tie that they had towards each other. And, when they did fight it they ended up with the worst cumulative year of their lives.
"Oh, I don't love you, but I always will," Blaine quickly sang into Kurt's ear as he picked up on the repetitive chorus.
Kurt scornfully smiled in the calm moment like this. It was almost like someone had picked this song to play for them, since it was perfection.
"I don't have a choice, but I'd still choose you," Kurt quietly sang the end of the second verse, already knowing every word to this song and how it made his heart ache when he thought about it related to Blaine.
"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, as the chorus was now on a constant repeat.
"I shouldn't have let you go that easily," Kurt said, clutching even tighter on Blaine's shoulder.
"I shouldn't have wanted to leave," Blaine countered, pulling Kurt's hips to knock directly into his.
"We're both at fault, especially for letting it escalate this far," Kurt said, as Blaine nodded in agreement before pressing his forehead up again Kurt's.
"I will always love you," Blaine said as the song wrapped up and a more upbeat song started playing.
Kurt untangled their hands, gently caressing Blaine's cheek. Blaine tilted his chin up the slightest bit to press his lips up against Kurt's. It was much like the kiss they shared a year ago to date. It was chaste, but full of emotion.
"I always will," Kurt whispered, loving the way the meaning of what he had just said. It felt like coming home.
I'm actually very proud of this. I hope that you all like it as well. Reviews typically show love, so those are always appreciated.