A/N: Written for the lovely lovejoybliss, and inspired by this post - post/133322312226/incorrecttenipuri-fuji-why-dont-you-have-a (but please read the story first). Warning for romance, angst, talk of Blaine (not Blaine friendly), and a few misunderstandings. Time period for this is a little vague, but definitely happens after the 'Come What May' dream sequence.
Kurt grumbles under his breath, nerves heaping up on him as he rolls to a stop beside two parked taxis, with a parade of eight or so honking angrily behind him. "Yeah, yeah, you'll get over it," he mutters, though in his chest, his heart beats painfully fast, begging him to keep going, to circle around the block and find a parking spot, even if it's several blocks away. Kurt hates driving in New York. Who drives in New York anyway? Most New Yorkers take the subway, so those people who do own cars drive like maniacs, fighting the cab drivers for parking spots, weaving through traffic and speeding to the red light, then leaning on their horns the millisecond it switches to green. Besides that, he's double parked outside the Richard Rodgers Theatre, with a whole herd of taxi drivers glaring at him, and yelling what he can only assume are curse words in various languages.
Kurt pretends to ignore them, turning the volume up on the radio and staring straight ahead, purposefully looking past the torso of one man who gets out of his cab and comes up to his car window to call him a pendejo to his face. Kurt bites his tongue to keep from escalating the argument by cursing back at the guy in French. With the doors locked and the windows rolled up, Kurt figures he's fairly safe inside the Honda Accord he's driving, but he doesn't need the man taking his anger out on the car. It isn't even Kurt's. He borrowed it from a neighbor who happens to be an Uber driver, currently taking the day off to recover from a horrible case of food poisoning.
A lucky break for Kurt. Not quite so lucky for his poor neighbor, spending the morning vomiting everything he's eaten in the last two weeks.
Out front of the theater, a cold and weary crowd is slowly dispersing. There's an obvious excitement from some, and disappointment from others. Kurt searches the thinning throng for a familiar blood orange beanie, and green-and-khaki flannel jacket. There's really only two or three people Kurt will drive into the city for, and when Kurt finally sees him, standing with a small huddled group, sharing a laugh and body heat, he breathes a sigh of relief. He needs to get out of this growing mess of double parked cars before someone blocks him in out of spite. He honks the horn to get his attention, since there's no way he's getting out of this car.
Adam, a member of the weary but excited crowd, turns his head at the sound, almost as if he knows that, in a cacophony of honking horns, that one was meant for him. He spots Kurt parked amidst a sea of yellow taxi cabs and waves. Kurt watches Adam quickly say his goodbyes to the group, shaking hands and patting shoulders, but then he wraps his arms around the waist of one stunningly dressed man – a man closer to Adam's age, Kurt notes with a grimace, as well as possessing the sophistication that Kurt has always attributed to Adam. Adam holds the man tight, talking in his ear and laughing before the man gives him a kiss on the cheek.
Kurt's smile tightens on his face as a precaution. He doesn't want to lose it altogether, or Adam might ask him what's wrong. Kurt would have to tell him something, and he has never been good at coming up with white lies on the spot. In front of Adam in particular, Kurt's a disaster, but Adam's such a sweetheart, he'll take Kurt at his word. To this day, Kurt doesn't know how to tell Adam that he doesn't wear contact lenses – the one and only lie he's really ever had to tell Adam, to cover for the fact that he was crying over his ex at an inopportune moment.
Kurt can't really whine too much about Adam being affectionate with other guys. Kurt is the one who told Adam that he's not looking to jump into a serious relationship right now, not after everything that happened between him and Blaine, and that he needed a little time and space to get over him. So Adam agreed to friendship and casual dates – coffee, lunches, the occasional dinner, a movie now and then – and it's been fun. Somewhere along the line, Kurt may have even convinced himself that this was all he wanted, that he's content with platonic encounters - talking about musicals over lattes and cronuts, discussing what he would sing for the Winter Showcase while they strolled Central Park, window shopping at Bloomingdale's after classes. They've even planned Kurt's dream trip to England, with Adam going along as his guide.
As his friend.
And Kurt's been fine with that.
But that's because Kurt hadn't witnessed Adam hugging anyone else before, especially not Mr. Abercrombie and Fitch.
It's the body language between these two men that kills Kurt though. The way they both keep one arm around each other, even as Adam makes to leave; how that arm lingers, fingertips trailing across Adam's back as he pulls away; or the way the man keeps his eyes on Adam, his smile not fading until he catches sight of Kurt. Then it seems to evaporate in a blink.
Kurt reaches over the passenger seat to open the door. Adam, hunched and shivering, slides into the seat.
"Hey, Kurt," Adam says, leaning to give Kurt a hug. His cheek, resting against Kurt's warm skin, is freezing, so he doesn't leave Kurt's embrace right away, and Kurt is willing to sit there with him like this, even as the chorus of car horns behind them gets progressively louder and more irate. "Thanks so much for picking me up. I would have taken the subway, but I've been on my feet so long I think I'm going to fall over."
Not the way that guy was holding you up, Kurt thinks. Probably would have offered to carry you home if you'd asked.
"No problem," is what he says out loud. Adam lets go and Kurt puts the car into gear, merging into traffic. "I didn't know people still waited on line for theater tickets anymore, not to mention eighteen hours. Isn't that what Ticketmaster's for?"
"Well, it's a charity thing, so it was first come, first served. Plus it's Hamilton. I've heard nothing but amazing things about that show. I've been positively dying to see it."
"You definitely have some determination," Kurt says, shaking his head. "I think the longest I've ever waited in line for anything was four hours, and that was at the opening of the Saks outlet in Lima."
"Never let it be said that I'm not willing to wait for something epic." Adam rubs his hands together to warm them up. Even wearing thick red mittens, it seems the cold went right through to his skin. Kurt switches the heater from low to high, and aims a vent Adam's way. "And Jon Groff…come on," Adam says, nodding a silent thank you as he takes off his mittens and puts his hands up to the vent. "That man's about the hottest thing on two legs these days, present company excluded, of course."
"Of course," Kurt repeats, mildly confused. "Wh-why of course?"
"Because you're number one," Adam says with a wink that makes Kurt's stomach flip somersaults. It's such an easy compliment, such an effortless one, that Kurt might think Adam was putting him on if he didn't know him better.
"Well, I envy you," Kurt says. "I would love to see Hamilton. But unfortunately for me, petty things like food and rent have taken priority over the truly important things in life."
"Ah, that'll change someday," Adam says.
"Yeah, well, I'm hoping someday is soon. All the good musicals are coming and going while I'm stuck at home eating my Rooster O's."
"Just give it another few years," Adam says, bending closer to the vent to warm up his frozen face.
"Why?" Kurt asks. "Do you know something I don't know?"
"Because then you'll be starring in them." Adam sits back in his seat, sufficiently warmed up.
"So, who's the handsome man with the superb taste in jackets?" Kurt asks, changing the subject. Kurt is insanely curious about this new man in Adam's life, and he might as well find out as much as he can about him if he's going to despise him for all eternity.
"Which one?" Adam asks, turning in his seat to talk to Kurt.
"The one you were, uh, hugging." Kurt assumed that Adam would know right away which man he was referring to. Specifying it out loud like that sounds kind of stupid.
"Uh…" Adam thinks, and it strikes Kurt that it sounds like Adam doesn't know. Exactly how many guys was he hugging in line? Adam realizes that Kurt only saw him hugging one guy, and the answer comes suddenly. "Oh, you mean Ryan. He's an old, old friend. He was my first flat-mate when I moved here."
"Oh," Kurt says. He tries to think of a way to ease into the subject of Ryan without sounding like he's digging for intel, but eager for more information, his mouth sort of takes off on its own. "I've never seen him before. Does he go to NYADA? You guys still seem close. That's nice."
Kurt's rambling. He knows he's rambling, like a jealous ex. He bites his tongue to stop before he makes an ass of himself entirely.
"No, he doesn't go to NYADA," Adam answers, chuckling lightly, "and yes, we've managed to stay really good friends. He's pretty much my go-to date when things like this come along."
"Oh. Oh, well, that's…nice." Kurt goes quiet, trying not to be disgusted at the catch in his voice, or his flimsy word usage. He reminds himself that he and Adam aren't dating – they have an understanding. An understanding that Kurt initiated. And it's a good understanding. A mature understanding. Kurt needs time. Time and space. It sounded like the right thing when he said it to Blaine over Thanksgiving.
How come it doesn't seem quite so right in this situation?
"Yeah, it is," Adam continues, his voice breaking in between Kurt's thoughts and reminding him that he's driving to Adam's neck of New York instead of to his loft in Bushwick. "His girlfriend's usually not a big fan of musicals, but apparently she's as big a fan of a Jonathan Groff as I am."
Kurt feels himself smiling uncontrollably at the mention of Ryan's girlfriend, just like he feels Adam's eyes watching him, and Kurt wonders if he's just been played. Because if he's been played, that means that Adam knew he was jealous, which is kind of humbling. Kurt can't really see Adam playing anyone, so if he did, it would be kind of hot.
"So, he's not your date then?" Kurt asks.
"Nope," Adam says.
"Well, that's his loss," Kurt says. "Or, it would be, if he didn't have a girlfriend. Actually no, it's still his loss."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Kurt says, pulling up to the curb outside Adam's apartment building. "You're a great guy. You deserve to be with, you know, another great guy."
"Well, what about you?" Adam asks seriously. "You deserve to be with a great guy, too."
"Yeah?" Kurt lets the car idle in park to keep the heater going, and turns to look at Adam instead of talking to the steering wheel. "I don't…I don't know."
"You still don't think it's time?" Adam asks. "You know, get back in the saddle as they say?"
Kurt shakes his head no before Adam finishes his question.
"I think it might still be too early for me," Kurt says. It's a thought out response, one he's given before, but when he hears it, he's not sure how much he believes it anymore. Kurt misses being with Blaine, but he's not sure it's actually Blaine that he misses. He misses talking to him and cuddling with him and hanging out with him – all things that he does with Adam. But when Kurt's with Adam, he doesn't feel like he's competing with him, or that he has to take care of him – things that happened a lot between Kurt and Blaine in high school. Being together with Adam feels like they're equals, and Kurt likes that. He likes being done with high school and high school things, and playing with the grownups for a change.
Kurt felt secure after the last time he saw Blaine that he didn't want to get back together with him.
So, what is Kurt really waiting for?
"That's a shame," Adam says, toying with his gloves, putting them together then wringing them in his hands, "because I happen to know a couple of guys that, rumor has it, are very interested in getting a chance with you."
"Really?" Kurt asks, genuinely surprised, immediately trying to imagine whom Adam might mean. "That sounds…interesting, but..."
"But?" Adam asks shyly.
"I think, maybe, I don't want the hassle, you know?" Kurt answers honestly. "I don't want to put myself out there and then have my heart broken again." Kurt shrugs. "I guess I'm not ready."
That isn't entirely true, and after the last words come out of his mouth, he could really kick himself. It's not that he's not ready for a boyfriend, he wants the right boyfriend, but he doesn't think he has the energy or the impetus to look for him.
Would it be too much to ask that Kurt go about his daily life and Mr. Right would find him?
Considering the fact that a potential Mr. Right is sitting beside him, he could believe it, but he's not sure Adam is interested in him like that. Not anymore. Not after they've become so adept at being just friends. Ryan might not be a contender for Adam's love interest, but there has to be others; guys lining up to date him.
Maybe the opportunity for Kurt to be with Adam has passed.
In the words of the great Stephen Sondheim, "Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor."
"What about you?" Kurt asks, prepared to find out for certain and put himself out of his misery. "Why don't you have a boyfriend yet?"
Adam's gaze shifts out the window as a train goes by overhead. He waits for it to pass completely before he gives Kurt an answer.
"Because you said you don't know if you're ready for a boyfriend yet."
Adam brings his gaze back to a stunned Kurt and he smiles. He contemplates kissing the shock off Kurt's face, but he falters. They'd had discussions before about Kurt's most memorable kisses – the ones that he felt counted. His first was stolen by David Karofsky. His second – Blaine took that one. It was a beautiful moment according to Kurt, but still, Kurt had begun to sense a pattern.
Adam is tempted – so tempted - but that's not how he wants to be remembered, lumped in with those two regardless of what happens between him and Kurt in the future. So instead, he squeezes Kurt's hand and says, "But I'll be here when you decide."
Adam opens the door and puts a foot out of the car, but he doesn't leave right away. His gaze holds Kurt's. He doesn't want to leave. He's hoping Kurt will ask him to stay, but he doesn't want to push. He doesn't want to pressure Kurt into making a decision he's not ready for.
He's going to give Kurt the chance to decide.
Adam finally leaves the car, waving goodbye from outside. He taps on the glass with his finger, then races up the stairs to his apartment and disappears behind the front door.
Kurt watches him go, the only thought in his mind that he's a total idiot, and that he just let another opportunity to get over Blaine and get on with his life with a wonderful guy literally walk away.
The heater cycles with the idling engine. The hot air blasts, getting stronger for a second, then dies down, and Kurt sees something flutter from the corner of his eye. He flicks his eyes to the seat Adam left. It should be empty, except it isn't. A rectangle of gold wrapped in a thin, white napkin sit in the center of the black upholstery. Kurt sees the word Hamilton, written in white letters over a black star, peeking through the napkin. He picks it up, preparing to chase Adam down and return his lost ticket, but the napkin unfolds in his hand, and Kurt notices words written across the middle.
It's not the realization that the ticket Adam left behind is meant for him that takes his breath away, but the words on the napkin - words he has no clue when Adam wrote, but that he knows he'll keep with him always.
I'm willing to wait for something epic.