A/N: Okay, so I haven't updated in too long. I've been a little stuck, and also I was sick and headachey, which meant I didn't really have enough of an attention span to think about the same thing for over five minutes. I'm better now, but got sidetracked writing this and a couple other things. I woke up at around midnight with the idea for this, jumped out of bed, and typed it up. No, I'm not impulsive. What gave you that idea?
I actually credit the song 'Realize' by Colbie Callait for this, despite it not really fitting very well for the most part. It would make much more sense if this was Kurt-centric, at the very least. But it's not. There's just one line of the song that struck me, and I did stick it in. Couldn't resist.
Basically this is what's happening in Blaine's mind during Original Song leading up to The Kiss.
/end too-long author's note
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or anyone in this, or anything at all really, except the sugar cookies. I own the sugar cookies.
It was so caring.
That was the word that haunted Blaine's mind as Kurt began to sing. The bird had just died- which was sad and all, but Kurt was so emotional over it. Just a bird. Yet after his one-year-long life, he was being serenaded, honored, and remembered. Anyone could see how much Kurt had cared about Pavarotti. The yellow puffball had meant so much to him, just by being there and being himself.
The thing was, Blaine was jealous. Jealous of a dead bird that had spent his entire life in a cage. It wasn't due to anything interesting (like longings for a past life spent in canary form), either. It was that Blaine would give anything to know that someone would feel strongly enough for him to sing this way in front of a bunch of uptight, conformist prep-school boys. It was that sometimes at night Blaine would cry about how he managed to disappoint everybody somehow. About how he didn't do enough. It was that he didn't think anyone would ever show this kind of emotion about him.
He hadn't been able to face up to those bullies. He hadn't been able to face up to his feelings for Kurt, instead just falling into denial. He'd had trouble facing up to his sexuality again, even after he'd already been sure. If he couldn't do that much, what right did Blaine have to want others to care about him?
Pavarotti hadn't needed to do anything, and had inspired and evoked caring in someone. Not just anyone, either- Kurt. Was it so wrong that Blaine wanted that?
What made it even worse was that Blaine knew he had a chance with Kurt. He could be Billy Crystal. But inside, Blaine was sure he'd just screw it up. He screwed everything up. Kurt was so proud and noble- Blaine couldn't ruin that. He'd end up breaking the heart of the person he cared about more than anything else in the rest of the whole fucking world. And breaking Kurt would break Blaine, once and for all.
Blaine kept reminding himself of this, over and over- holding back protects both of you. You're saving yourself tears later on. Stop thinking about him that way. Kurt's your friend, and that can't go wrong so easily.
Then Blaine realized something.
Blaine had gone home and cried over his cowardice that Valentine's Day night. But Kurt… he'd been the rejected one. What if he'd cried harder? What if Kurt had sobbed after Karofsky's sexual harassment, and thought he'd never have a real kiss? What if Kurt didn't need another friend? What if Kurt just needed to be cared about in that desperate way, too?
What if Blaine was breaking Kurt's heart by trying to prevent just that?
Once that thought struck Blaine, he felt terrible. It was speculation, of course- just a hunch. But as soon as he acknowledged the possibility that his hesitance was actually hurting Kurt rather than helping, he knew it was true. Damn, what had he done?
He had to try again. Kurt was a beautiful person- Pavarotti had been a lucky, lucky bird- and they had feelings for each other. Blaine knew that even if he messed up a little, Kurt would understand that he'd meant well- that's just the kind of sweet, understanding person Kurt was. Hopefully.
Kurt had once confessed to him that he thought he'd be single forever. Granted, he'd been showing Blaine a silly photo at the time, but Blaine had picked up on the veiled insecurity. It was one he often felt himself. That was part of why he'd been so desperate to try things out with Rachel; he just wanted to know someone could want him.
Kurt needed that, too. And Blaine had to try. Someone as awesome (in the literal sense) as Kurt deserved it. He deserved better than Blaine, actually- but there was only so much Blaine could offer.
And noble reasons aside, Blaine was a teenager and Kurt was hot.
It was possible things could go wrong- but what if they didn't? What if beautiful things never came to be because Blaine was a fucking wimp? They'd never have to wonder if they missed out on each other.
"So what's this about?" Wes demanded. "I'm missing gym- it had better be important."
"You hate gym," David pointed out.
"Irrelevant. Blaine, inform me of whatever occurrence is urgent enough to prompt an emergency class-ditching."
Blaine sighed. "It's Kurt. I… I like him."
Wes and David simultaneously made a loud kissing noise, yelled, "NO DUH!" and high-fived each other.
"You two honestly scare me," Blaine responded, attempting to keep from hurting either of them. "But I'm really serious here. What do I do? I mean, I kind of rejected him once, and he hasn't mentioned any feelings for me since and probably got over it, I mean it was probably a short little thing and just because I was the first gay guy he knew, and he's seen me drunk and basically told me I was a solo whore this morning and he must have lost all respect for me after the Rachel thing, I mean I lost all respect for me after that and-"
David felt the need to cut in before this got any more out of hand. "Whoa. Stop. First of all, you should see the way he looks at you. No way he's over it. Second of all, most couples have seen each other drunk. Where do you think babies come from?"
Blaine blinked, too desperate for the first statement to be true to register the ridiculousness of the second. "Are you really serious?"
"Well, yeah! I mean, my parents met each other when-"
"He meant about the first part, Warbler David. Don't be such an idiot." Wes tapped David on the temple with his gavel.
"Owww!"
"That was lightly! Wow, you wouldn't even last a day as a desk."
Blaine cleared his throat loudly.
"Seriously, dude, you have nothing to worry about. Who wouldn't say yes if you asked them out? You're like a sex god."
Wes and Blaine both stared at David for a good ten seconds. David awkwardly tried to backpedal. "I mean, uh, not that I think so… I mean, I have a girlfriend… Uh, I hear that gay guys think you're very hot though. Very hot indeed."
"You don't really know any gay guys except for Blaine and sort of Kurt."
"Uhm..."
"Moving on!" Blaine shouted. "How do I break the ice? I'm a fucking coward! I suck at talking about my feelings!"
"David, I think we should kick him out of the Warblers. Do you think we should kick him out of the Warblers?"
"I do, in fact, think we should kick him out of the Warblers. I mean, every lead soloist should know that when you're confessing your love to a dramatic countertenor you should sing it."
Blaine threw his hands up exasperatedly. "NO!" he yelled. "I've tried that! I mean, I picked a lot of the songs we did! I looked directly at him when we did "Silly Love Songs"! We sang "Baby, It's Cold Outside" for crying out loud but I keep chickening out and saying it was just a damn song! I need to tell him. I need to have a conversation, and I need a way to get up the strength to do it."
David was gazing out the window at a rabbit on the lawn. "Wait, what did you say?"
Wes held the gavel up threateningly, causing his ditzy friend to squeal slightly and wince at the guinea pig-esque result. He then turned to Blaine in a businesslike manner. "Here's what you do: You ask to and do sing a duet with him for the competition, solving the solo whore issue and also getting you two to spend a lot of time together. Plus it's a perfect conversation opener. At some point, you reveal why it is you picked him to sing with."
"YES!" David screamed enthusiastically. "Wes, you are brilliant."
"You didn't hear a word I said, did you."
David looked at the floor.
"Wait," Blaine said. "I like it. But are you seriously going to do this for the competition? I mean, we've worked so hard on the songs… how will you get the Warblers to agree?"
David spoke up. "I will tell them all what to do, and also inform them that if they do their jobs well they will receive free sugar cookies."
Dalton Academy had a very strict no-desserts policy for whatever reason, but every two weeks David's grandmother smuggled him a batch of homemade cookies. Generally he managed to sell them to the Warblers at around four dollars a cookie. A promise of a couple for free would get any Warbler to agree to do just about anything. Thad had once eaten pasta that had been boiled in toilet water in exchange for three.
"Still... what if I'm too nervous..."
"Just think of the sugar cookies I'm putting into this- if you don't follow through, I'll never forgive you-"
Wes interrupted. "Afterwards, we'll give you and Kurt the rest of the batch to split. Even if he does reject you- which he won't- he'll forgive you after tasting them."
David had initially looked put off by Wes volunteering his food, but then something else occured to him. "And then you two can decorate them with hearts and split one! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"
Blaine sighed, smiling. He nodded, and the other two boys cheered.
David, grinning from ear to ear, attempted to high-five Wes. David didn't have very good hand-eye coordination and so this resulted in a somewhat painful collision, but nobody really cared. They had a plan, and that's what mattered.
After rehearsal, Blaine finally started breathing normally. It had gone off without a hitch. And Kurt had looked happy about the duet. The hard part came next, at practice after school. Blaine, Wes, and David had spent a long time picking out the perfect song- they'd decided that it was important it not fit the situation very well. That way Blaine could do the talking himself, and be very clear about the message. It couldn't fit the situation horribly, either, though- that could lead to serious miscommunication. It had to be something they could learn reasonably quickly, so it'd be best if Kurt and Blaine both knew the song previously, at least vaguely. Lastly, it had to sound good. They'd finally settled on Hey Monday's "Candles". Well, Blaine and Wes had, anyway. David was pushing for either "Friday" or "Peacock", despite the fact that neither is actually fitting for their voices whatsoever (or a good song).
Blaine still really didn't know how he'd be able to get through the last two periods of the day- especially as next was French, where he sat beside Kurt. The short boy was a wreck of nerves.
He ended up spending the entirety of both French and History planning out what he'd tell Kurt. This needed to be perfect. But it couldn't sound too much like a speech, too planned. So he'd need to gather the general emotions and ideas he wanted to express, but not the precise words? Was he overthinking this?
It was time to go in. Blaine peeked around the corner, into the room where he knew Kurt was.
Could he do this? What if- no, Courage, Blaine reminded himself. If Kurt can do so much, you can do this. He is everything. And think of the sugar cookies. If I chicken out, I'm going to hate myself afterwards and Wes will murder me with his gavel for wasting the desserts. I just need to tell Kurt how I feel- that's not so hard.
And look at him, there. He was Bedazzling Pavarotti's casket, pale hands not even shaking as he concentrated on the place his beloved canary would spend the rest of time. And it was a mark of how loving Kurt was, too- the little box would never see the light of day again, yet this wonderful boy was brightening it up, making sure Pavarotti would lie peacefully in a sparkling chamber forever. Blaine stared at his focused glasz eyes. Kurt was so intent on letting his companion have the best possible existence, both in life and death. Was there anything more beautiful than that? Was there anything more beautiful than Kurt?
Blaine then realized he'd been standing outside the doorway, looking at Kurt, for the past five minutes, and if he was going to do anything, he needed to do it now. Taking a deep breath, he put on his confident face and walked into the room.
A/N again- I hope you enjoyed.
I would also like to say that the opinions expressed in this are not necessarily mine, which basically means that I actually like the song 'Friday'. Don't judge me.
And I really, really like reviews... just sayin'... Reviews make me write. I hope that's a reason to review rather than a reason not to. If it is a reason not to, tell me why. Isn't that what a review is for?
