Blaine knocks on the door of the loft.
He knows Kurt's on his own in there right now. He gave Rachel strict instructions to be out of there. One hand is gripping nervously to the dark blue velvet box in his pocket, while the other clutches a bouquet of pink and yellow roses. He smells them, but the scent turns his stomach. He remembers Kurt giving him a similar bunch, looking up at him from a staircase, so proud of him, ignoring his own worries just so he could support Blaine. Kurt kissing his fluffy hair at prom and telling him he still looked gorgeous. Kurt gripping onto his shoulders and whispering 'I'm never saying goodbye to you' and meaning it. God, all of that was so long ago.
Now Kurt's taking his sweet time answering the door while Blaine gets soaked. Obviously he doesn't know it's him, doesn't know he's flown all this way to surprise him, but- as the sickly flower smell gets deep into his brain, other memories flick into his mind.
Calling Kurt time after time, only to be ignored or told 'I'll call you later', or just listening patiently while he gushed about New York and how much fun he was having without Blaine. In that hotel room, Kurt telling him over and over 'this doesn't mean we're back together' and 'we're just friends, Blaine'. Wanting so desperately for Kurt to just hold him, kiss him softly like he used to instead of being rushed and desperate, but seeing Kurt fully dressed before he could even think straight.
Kurt coming over the next day and leaving while Blaine was asleep. Waking up alone but still so stuck, still clinging to the idea of the boy who'd left him behind again.
Sitting on the floor of the choir room, silently begging for forgiveness for one mistake, terrified of dying without making things right, when he should have been thinking of his parents, his brother, not the boy who still refused to either take him back or let him move on.
He glances down at the roses again. They look so bright in the grey of the city, almost gaudy. A drop of water falls onto a petal, and he doesn't know if it's from the sky or the curls falling over his forehead, or maybe he's crying. He doesn't know.
Maybe it was all a mistake. Christmas, Valentine's Day, today, the months he's wasted and gotten nothing back except constant reminders of the one thing he regrets the most. Now there's a ring in his pocket and all he can think is that Kurt will say no, because Kurt will never forgive him, and he'll keep hanging on forever if Kurt lets him. He's never felt so stupid.
He's swallowing and shaking and he's on the verge of dropping the flowers and running when the door opens.
Rachel Berry is good at a lot of things. Keeping secrets is not one of them. Neither is cooking.
Black smoke is pouring out of the oven.
"Rachel, I told you, I refuse to run to the rescue of your culinary attempts! Either you take that monstrosity out of the oven or we all go up in flames! Don't underestimate how far I'll go to make a point!"
"What?" Her head pokes out of the door, her eyes almost popping out of her head when she sees the state of the kitchen. "Oh, no no no no no…"
Kurt and Santana give each other a look. She shrugs and gets back to her magazine, crossing her legs in case there was any doubt that she was refusing to help. He sighs in exasperation, but heaves himself up to give her a hand. Sometimes he has to remind himself that even though it seems like it, Rachel really isn't doing this on purpose. She's just that inept.
"For God's sake, give me that- gloves, Rachel! I don't know about you, but I'd quite like to keep the skin on my palms."
Santana snorts and mutters 'I bet you would' under her breath. Rachel huffs.
"Kurt, I'm so sorry, I just-"
"Was this supposed to be a cake?"
She chews her lip.
"Maybe. Well, it was meant to be a soufflé, but I think 'cake' is the highest compliment I could've hoped for. God, this is the last thing you needed today."
He frowns.
"Today? Rachel, I don't think I'll ever need a kitchen full of smog. Any day."
"Yeah, but tonight you'll want-"
A candle (unlit, thankfully, not that an actual fire could do any more damage at this point) flew at them, hitting Kurt in the back of the knee.
"Ow! Tana, I'm not the one trying to fumigate the loft!"
"Sorry. Haven't figured out how to throw like a lesbian yet. That was for Berry."
"Santana, I wasn't giving anything away-"
"Oh, and that definitely won't do it. Genius."
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Kurt asks, "And why were you baking and what is so special about today?"
"Well, you know… finals. Can't study with all this smoke."
"Rachel, my last exam was on Tuesday. You know that. And if I wanted to study, do you honestly think I'd be anywhere near this apartment?"
"Um. I. We-"
She looks nervously at Santana.
"Don't bring me into this. I said I'd make myself scarce, that's the most I'm willing to do. You know the rule - no plotting unless it gets me laid. Her sex life is not my responsibility."
Kurt's really lost now.
"What the- how does my sex life come into this?" He puts his hand on the top of Rachel's head, turning it from Santana back to him. "Rachel Berry, if you don't tell me what's going on in the next ten seconds, I'll make you eat your own cooking."
"I can't!" she squeaks, "I promised Blaine I'd let it be a surprise!"
Santana groans and her head flops back onto the cushions.
"Jesus. With that overactive tongue of yours, it's really a shame you don't bat for my team."
"Now is not the time, Santana Lopez. Is Blaine coming here? Today?"
Rachel nods quickly, mouth clamped tightly shut as if the cat isn't already out of the bag.
"But try to act surprised," Santana calls from the couch. "We didn't tell you anything. He'll kill us."
"Blaine wouldn't do that. Not if he knew I tried to make you guys a soufflé."
"That was for us?" He can't help but be weirdly touched by the misguided sentiment. "Aww- wait. Blaine. Blaine's coming! Get out, both of you!"
"Rude. I thought we were family," Santana argues, but she's grinning and getting up anyway. She and Rachel slip on shoes and coats and prod Kurt as he vibrates with excitement.
"What time will he be here? God, I need to shower. Do you know why he's coming?"
"No idea. Probably just misses little Kurt," Santana smirks and bumps her hip into his, looking pointedly at his crotch.
"Have fun!" Rachel sings, sliding the door open, "try to have some clothes on when we get back! And maybe hide the boyfriend pillow!" She skips outside, popping her umbrella open as she walks.
"Santana, I don't- he's so busy. His finals are next week, and graduation's so soon- why is he coming all the way out here now?"
"Well, it's not like you're ever gonna make the first move, idiot."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She pauses, with one foot out of the door, but turns back to Kurt with a frown. She slides the door closed so Rachel can't possibly hear her and walks over to him.
"Be nice to him."
"I'm always nice to him."
She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently.
"You know what I mean, Kurt. Just- don't do anything if you don't really mean it. You can't keep leaving him hanging. He- Blaine really loves you, okay?" She shrugs a little, just in case things are getting too serious. "Not that I can see why." Kurt would be offended if she wasn't giving him that smile, the one he doesn't see often, the one that means she's trying her hardest to help. He smiles back and nods.
"Sure. Now get out of here. My boyfriend's coming over."
She raises an eyebrow, but knows she's not the one he needs to have this conversation with. She grabs her umbrella and has to run to catch up with Rachel.
He slides the door shut and has to take a minute to gather his thoughts, palms pressed flat against it. He was going to go to Lima in a couple of weeks anyway for his dad's appointment. Blaine knows that. And- shit- isn't prom tonight? Tomorrow? He's not actually sure what day it is right now, to tell the truth; he's still on his weird exam schedule and everything's pretty blurred. Friday, maybe. They have Designing Women marathons on Thursdays, and that was- one day ago? WAIT. IT DOESN'T MATTER. BLAINE IS COMING HERE. TONIGHT.
He pulls his shirt off before he can even remember where he keeps his towels and almost falls over as he wriggles out of his pants. He steps into the shower, forgetting that it starts off at approximately minus four thousand degrees and screams, then screams again when it gets too hot. He's halfway through washing his hair, a soapy drop sliding down his forehead, when he stops. Santana's voice is echoing in his head.
"Don't do anything if you don't really mean it."
"You can't keep leaving him hanging."
What was that supposed to mean?
His hands slowly start moving again, as he keeps thinking. He doesn't think he's done anything he didn't mean. They've been talking again, and it's great. Maybe it's all been a bit… superficial. They can't really get as serious as they'd like over the phone or on Skype. And he definitely doesn't regret what happened at the wedding.
Okay, he kind of regrets the next day. He'd known Blaine wanted him to stay, he'd seen how content Blaine looked asleep on Kurt's chest- he didn't mean to upset him. But he probably had.
Leaving him hanging though- surely not. It's always been implied that eventually they'd get back together, right? Now that he thinks about it, he's forgiven Blaine. He really has. He know what it's like to be ignored, not to feel special, and while it still hurts, he understands what Blaine was feeling. Has he told him that? He tries to remember their last few conversations, and- nothing. The recurring motif was 'we're not back together' and 'we're just friends'. He can't remember the last time they spoke without him reminding him that they weren't a couple any more. He knows he's getting to a place where he thinks he can move past it, but- but Blaine doesn't know that. Because Kurt hasn't told him.
He realises he's been staring at the shower curtain, completely motionless, for what must be almost five minutes. The water's starting to go cold. He hears a knock at the door, timid but somehow determined. Blaine.
"Fuck," he mutters to himself as he quickly rinses his hair and clambers out of the tub, doing what he can to dry himself off and pull some clothes on, almost whacking his head on the door frame as he shimmies into his jeans (the ones he knows Blaine likes). Maybe he hasn't been as good as he could have been. But tonight he'll show Blaine. He'll show him that he wants him, that he wants them to be okay again. He doesn't even look in the mirror, knowing Blaine won't care. He can't wait to see that smiling face, so warm, so full of love, as always.
He opens the door. That's not what he sees.
For a start, Blaine looks far from warm. He's soaked through, his clothes sticking to him, and he looks so small, and his face- somewhere between miserable and confused. He's frowning when he finally locks eyes with Kurt. He doesn't say anything, so Kurt says it for him.
"Blaine! It's so good to see you!" He throws his arms around him, almost knocking the flowers out of his hand. Blaine doesn't respond any more than a 'mmm'. "God, these are beautiful. I love them. I love you." He kisses him, a little annoyed with himself at how clumsy all of this is. He wants to make some kind of amazing, powerful speech, but he can't find the words yet. Blaine doesn't kiss back, not like he usually does. Kurt starts to frown before he even pulls away. He searches Blaine's eyes for a second. "Are you okay? Wait, of course you're not, you're out on the doorstep in torrential rain. Come in, warm up. Let me take those, gosh, they really are gorgeous. And so are you. Even soaking wet, you manage to look amazing. How is that fair?"
"Hm."
Blaine doesn't even laugh. Just lets Kurt take the flowers and put them in a vase with some water. Kurt turns back to him, still smiling despite Blaine's near-silence. Kurt takes his hand, and Blaine lets him, but he stays more or less limp.
"Was your flight awful? Is it just the rain?" No answer. Blaine's mouth opens, but it closes again. Kurt feels his hand trembling. "God, you're so cold. Hey," he kisses him slowly, slipping a hand under his jacket, "I bet I can find a way to warm you up. Come on." He kisses him again and links their fingers together, leading the way to his room. He pulls on Blaine's hand, but Blaine doesn't move from where he's standing.
"No."
"Blaine, it's okay," Kurt didn't know how to put it, how to just blurt out I-forgive-you and I-want-to-be-your-boyfriend-again, so he just tries to kiss him. Again, Blaine lets it happen but doesn't reciprocate. "Blaine? Are you- tired, or something? Do you just want to sit down? I could make us both some tea and we could just- Blaine. I- tell me what you want."
Blaine swallows.
"You know what I want, Kurt. You've known for months."
"Well… okay, I guess-"
"Not okay. Nothing's okay. I- I hate myself so much for what I did to you. I can't imagine how- how it must have made you feel. I've tried to picture it but- but this is just- it's such a mess."
"Blaine, I know-"
"I don't know how long I can keep doing this. I've said I'm sorry. I've told you a thousand times how sorry I am, and you must know by now that I'll never do it again, because- I mean- I already feel so terrible- why would I ever do that again? But for the endless apologies I've given you, don't I deserve one?" No, stop, it's not supposed to come out like this-"Am I supposed to keep pining for you, missing you, fucking you whenever you feel like it and just accepting any 'friends with benefits' crap you throw my way?" He wants to kick himself, needs to stop these words spilling out; he doesn't know where it's come from all of a sudden and he can see how upset Kurt is and he promised he'd never cause that again but he can't stop- "This hurts. I feel like I'm just getting left behind again, like I'm not allowed to move on in case you want to hook up again and disappear overnight. Waking up alone, Kurt, it was horrible. It felt so cheap. Like you didn't care."
"I do care, Blaine, you know I do-"
"How? How am I supposed to know anything? We never talk about it, not really, not without you closing off and reminding me how terrible I am for doing what I did, reminding me that we're still not back together. You know I'd wait for the rest of my life for you, Kurt, you know I love you, because I've been nothing but honest, but it can't just be me doing all this. I feel like I'm in this by myself, while you're off with that Adam guy-"
"I broke up with him-"
"Right. Am I supposed to be grateful? It's like- like you don't even want to try any more-"
Stop, stop, stop, they're both screaming in their heads, this is all wrong, this isn't what you wanted to say-
"Blaine, I'm sorry-"
"So am I." He's shaking his head, like he can't believe what he's saying. Kurt's frozen, tears rolling down his cheeks, his breaths stuttering, a lump in his throat that won't go away no matter how many times he swallows. Blaine reaches into his pocket, pulling the box out. "Here." Kurt's eyes widen. "This was supposed to be for you, but- I- forget it, okay? I'm such an idiot."
Kurt stares in shock at the box Blaine gives him, but doesn't open it because Blaine's heaving the door open.
"Blaine, no, you're not- wait!" But it's too late. He's gone back into the rain. Kurt shoves his feet into a pair of shoes and follows him, leaving the door open behind him. Someone could rob the place and he wouldn't care. There's only one thing he never wants to lose. "Blaine! Blaine, will you stop?"
"Leave me alone!" The huddled figure ahead of him shouts back without turning. "You don't want me, that's fine, I don't care."
"I do want you, Blaine! God, you don't even know where you're going!"
"I don't care. I'll figure it out."
He's slowing down, but not stopping.
"Look, if you really want to go, I'll get you a cab or something. I'm not letting you freeze to death out here."
"I get it, okay, you're a New Yorker now. You get cabs and have all your amazing friends and Vogue and NYADA and I'm just that boy you dated in high school. Well, I'm not helpless. I can take care of myself."
"But you don't have to. I want to take care of you."
Kurt's caught up now, and he tried to take Blaine's arm but Blaine shrugs him off.
"No," his voice is weak and his will is fading, but he keeps walking. "Get off me."
"I'm not going anywhere, Blaine. Blaine! Fuck, Blaine, will you just stop?"
Blaine comes to a halt. He doesn't turn to look at Kurt, so Kurt steps in front of him, automatically rubbing his arms to try and warm him up.
"What?" Say something, Kurt; Please make me stay.
"I- I don't-"
"Fine. Go back inside."
He tries to push past Kurt, but his grip is too firm and Blaine's just too tired to keep fighting.
"No. I want to do this. I want- I-" Blaine looks at him expectantly. "I love you. Not just as a friend, or friends with benefits or anything. I don't think I ever did. Blaine, I-"
"Yeah?"
"I'm still in love with you. Completely, ridiculously crazy about you. I think we're hopeless. I think we suck at communicating, but I promise to try harder. As hard as you've been trying these past few months. I want to fix this. Starting now."
"You mean-"
"Yes. Blaine, I want you to be my boyfriend again. I don't want you to hate yourself, because I don't hate you. I forgive you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I want us to work at this properly, really talk when something's wrong, even when something's right, because God, this has been right for so long but I just couldn't say it. I'm sorry I didn't say it."
"Kurt," Blaine says, and it's practically a sob, "don't just say this to shut me up, or to make me come back with you. Don't just say it because I'm cold. I don't want to hear it if you don't mean it."
"I mean every word. I saw the news last week, okay? I saw what happened at McKinley and cried. For hours. Everybody was out by the time I heard but still- the thought of- of losing you, for real, it just- never again. As long as you're alive, as long as you exist, I will love you, and I will keep showing you that I love you so you never forget again."
Blaine's frown fades, and his whole body shivers with another sob.
"Really?"
Kurt nods.
"Really. Forever." He sniffs. "As long as next time I'm being a crappy boyfriend, you tell me to cut it out."
A laugh spills out of Blaine's mouth before he can stop it. He tries to wipe the tears and rain from his cheeks, only for new rain to replace it half a second later.
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Kurt swallows.
"I want to- can I-?"
Blaine nods.
"Yes, please."
Kurt smiles despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks, and leans in to kiss Blaine, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding him so close he can hardly breathe. Blaine kisses back this time, enough to make up for the others that day and the ones they missed since October and every half-hearted kiss since the dawn of time. His arms cling to Kurt's waist, lifting him off the ground so that he squeaks.
"Now, do you still want to go home?"
"I want to go to the apartment."
Kurt grins.
"That's what I meant. I mean, it's only a couple of months until you move in with us, right?"
Blaine beams at him.
"But we're getting our own place as soon as we can afford it, aren't we?"
"You bet. There's boobs and tampons everywhere in there."
Blaine kisses him again, slowly, and it warms both of them up a little. But it's still pretty fucking cold.
"Seriously, though, can we-? I'm freezing."
"Me too. Come on."
"I imagined us getting back together in a lot of different ways, but I don't think you mentioned tampons in any of them."
Kurt wraps his arm tightly around Blaine's shoulder's, and Blaine grips onto Kurt's waist, and they are the only two people in Bushwick caught in the rain with huge smiles on their faces.
An hour passes. They talk, and kiss, and talk, and fuck, and talk, and do all three until they can hardly lift their heads up, and they're sweaty and sleepy in Kurt's bed, Blaine's head on Kurt's chest, clinging to each other as if they're scared of getting lost again. Kurt stretches, pressing a kiss to Blaine's head before he tries to shift up and out of bed. Blaine grips onto him tighter.
"No."
"I was just going to clean up, maybe get us some coffee."
"No."
"Blaine-"
"No, Kurt. No."
"Okay, shh, it's fine. I won't go if you don't want me to. It's okay, Blaine. I'm right here."
"Good."
Blaine smiles enough for Kurt to know that he's not really all that sleepy. He lets Blaine tug him back down and their arms find their place around each other. Kurt kisses Blaine's cheek.
"I love you."
"I know. I love you too. A lot."
"Um. About that."
"I should probably warn you that 'I've changed my mind' jokes will not be well-received."
"No," he scoots down to kiss Blaine, cupping his cheek and looking straight into his eyes, "definitely not. But before, when you left, there was- Blaine, the box. Was it- were you- I-"
"Oh. Yes. I was."
"Oh. Past tense."
"It was silly. I thought it would- maybe some big gesture- it seems stupid now. We don't have to rush into anything, Kurt, don't worry. I won't ask."
"Okay."
Blaine frowned.
"Kurt?"
"It's nothing."
"No. Tell me. That's how this works now, remember, full disclosure."
"I just- I would- before you got here, I was thinking about everything-"
"I take it the girls couldn't keep their mouths shut?"
"Duh. But I kept thinking- I want to be with you, Blaine. I don't want to keep thinking about one mistake, trying to stop myself from trusting you. I- if you had asked me, I think- I think I would have said yes."
"Oh. Should I ask?"
"I don't know."
"I don't- Kurt, I love you. You know I love you with all of my heart, but- I don't want to do that just to- prove we've fixed things. I don't want it to be after a big dramatic fight in the rain."
"I understand."
"Can we just be boyfriends again for now?"
Kurt nods and smiles. It's more than enough of a proposal for him. For now.
"There's no 'just' about it, Blaine. I'm more than happy to be your anything."
Blaine smiles back and kisses him, and they both get butterflies knowing that someday, whenever it is, one of them will ask. There will be a ring. And there will definitely be a 'yes'.