O Hear the Angel Voices
A/N: Holiday greetings! Here's a little one-shot set in S2 – Kurt is at Dalton, but he and Blaine are not yet together.
It all started the week after Thanksgiving.
Suddenly, Blaine was disappearing every Tuesday and Thursday evening for a couple of hours after dinner. It wasn't like he and Kurt had a standing date (or any dates, for that matter, much to Kurt's chagrin), but they'd fallen into a pattern of hanging out most evenings after dinner. They would study, or watch reality TV, or catch up on the latest issue of Vogue together. It was a lovely, comfortable pattern, and though they caught some smirks from some of the other Warblers on occasion, neither seemed too bothered by that or inclined to change – until the week after Thanksgiving.
Then the excuses had started: a new class project required some off-campus research. He had to go visit a family member. He had to shop for something, but didn't want to trouble Kurt by having him come along.
The first couple of weeks didn't really phase Kurt too much until he noticed the pattern. These sudden absences were always on the same days of the week and at the same time, and he always returned around the same time. The reasons were always kind of vague, and Blaine seemed somewhat nervous each time he gave an explanation to Kurt of where he was going. Then he would just rush out before Kurt could ask too many questions. It was all rather odd.
xoxoxo
"I think Blaine is cheating on me," Kurt said one Tuesday evening about a week before Christmas while chatting by phone with Mercedes.
"Um, Kurt, are you guys even dating?" Mercedes responded questioningly.
"Well, no, not technically, I guess…" Kurt trailed off.
"Then I don't think he can technically be cheating on you, boo," she giggled.
"Fine, fine," Kurt huffed. "But he's definitely keeping something from me. It's a different excuse every time. Tonight he muttered something incoherent about hair gel as he raced out of the dining hall. It's weird."
"He's entitled to a life, Kurt. I hate to say it, but maybe he's got a boyfriend and he doesn't want you to know."
A chill went through Kurt at the thought. "No," he answered, a little too quickly, perhaps. "No, I don't think so. I mean, who has a date every Tuesday and Thursday from seven to nine?" Kurt was happy to debunk Mercedes' theory. The sooner he could dispatch the idea of Blaine dating someone, the better. "I just can't figure it out, and why does he have to lie to me about it? Unless it's something awful. Maybe he's in trouble. Maybe he's in a gang! Or what if,"
"Kurt!" Mercedes cut him off. "Kurt, don't be silly. What kind of gang has regular meetings? It's probably just something personal and he doesn't want you to worry. Maybe he's seeing a counselor or something. You did say he'd had a bad experience at his last school, right?"
Kurt sighed. Yes, Blaine had mentioned being bullied at his last school, plus Kurt knew Blaine's family wasn't the most supportive. It was entirely plausible that he needed to talk to a professional about that. "Yeah," he finally answered Mercedes after a long pause. "I suppose that's possible, too. I'm worried about him, that's all."
"I know you are, boo. Just give him some space, okay? And if you really think he's in some kind of trouble, why don't you just ask him outright? Don't push it, but give him a chance to tell you if he wants to. I'm sure it's nothing, though."
They wound up their conversation shortly thereafter, and Kurt went to bed mulling it all over in his mind. He couldn't ask Blaine outright, he decided. If it was something like therapy, the last thing he would want to do is put Blaine on the spot and embarrass him. He'd just have to let it go.
xoxoxo
Come Thursday night, however, the plan to let it go had been forgotten in favor of a ludicrous plot that involved Kurt driving through downtown Westerville at what he hoped was a safe distance behind Blaine's car.
Yep, he was tailing him.
"Great, I've become a full-fledged stalker," he muttered to himself as he kept a close eye on the Prius a few cars ahead of him. "You've officially lost it, Kurt." This monologue continued until he saw Blaine finally pull into a turn lane and into a driveway. Carefully entering the turn lane himself, palms sweaty and heart thrumming, Kurt looked over at the sign on the lawn in front of the building.
St. Paul Episcopal Church.
Kurt blinked a couple of times, then jolted when a car horn behind him roused him and encouraged him to finally make his turn. What in the world was Blaine doing at a church? "I did not see that coming," he said aloud.
He pulled up the driveway and saw a small cluster of parked cars outside one of the church doors. He spotted Blaine walking up the stairs and through the large double doors of the building. Making a circle around the lot, Kurt parked his Navigator, carefully ensuring he was nowhere near Blaine's car, and put it in park.
Kurt sat in the dark car for a moment. He should leave. This was crazy. This was an invasion of Blaine's privacy. At least it's not a gang, he thought with a mirthless laugh, then he looked over at the church again. He should leave.
Five minutes later, the door to St. Paul's Episcopal Church opened very slowly and quietly. Kurt peeked his head in first, which was silly, because if he was going to be spotted, it wouldn't matter if it was just his head or his whole body, right? But be that as it may, he peered around carefully before slipping all the way through the door. He found himself in a small vestibule facing another set of double doors, one of which was propped open, leading into the church itself.
Through the open door he heard a woman speaking, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying due to the echo of the mostly empty church. He moved forward slowly, and stepped inside the church (something he generally avoided, being an atheist). He was grateful for a couple of rather sizeable pillars near the back, and he stealthily moved behind one, leaning over slightly to get a view up the aisle.
Looking off to one side, he finally spotted a group of about thirty people, mostly adults with a few teenagers and pre-teens, standing in rows behind a wooden half-wall. Finally Kurt understood what he was seeing: choir practice.
He scanned the group and quickly spotted Blaine, still in his Dalton uniform, smiling brightly at the woman standing in front of the choir – their director, presumably. The director turned and said something to their accompanist, and then called out a little more loudly, "Ok, everyone, from the top."
Opening notes from a pipe organ echoed through the church, followed by the sound of thirty voices raised in song. While Kurt had no interest in religion, he could certainly appreciate the beautiful sound of the choir and the organ as they sang their way through a traditional Christmas hymn. Closing his eyes, he listened carefully and smiled when he could pick out Blaine's clear tenor among the voices. He blended well with the others, of course, but Kurt could always manage to hear Blaine separate from the group. His dad had always claimed to be able to hear Kurt when he was singing in the background with the New Directions. Kurt had never believed him until he met Blaine.
He should leave. He knew he should leave. But the music was so beautiful, he couldn't help himself. He wished he could find a place to sit and watch, but he knew there was nowhere in the open church that he could sit without being seen. So, he carefully lowered himself to sit on the floor behind the column where he'd been hiding, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and listened.
Practice went on for about an hour, and it was glorious to Kurt's ears. Blaine even had a solo (of course) which he sang beautifully (of course). Most of the songs were Christmas hymns and songs that Kurt knew, and he caught himself humming softly along in harmony a couple of times. He was so lost in the music that he forgot one tiny thing until he heard the choir director make a couple of comments and everyone started to leave.
Leaving. Crap. How was he going to get out of here without being seen? Crap.
He shuffled around to the side of the column and sat there panicking. Maybe, if he held really, really still, everyone would file out the front door and not see him hiding there. Oh, please, let them not see him hiding there.
He made himself as small as possible and waited. His side was uncomfortably pressed up against the side of the last pew in the church while his back was plastered to the column. After a few minutes of people hustling out the door, none of whom bothered to look back as they did so, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He would wait another couple of minutes for them all to leave the parking lot, then he'd make his escape.
Kurt was just about to stand up (this hard floor had long since stopped being a comfortable place to sit) when he heard a sound: a single pair of footsteps clicking down the tiled aisle. They sounded decidedly like they were being made by a pair of mens' dress shoes. Kurt waited for them to pass, but they stopped just short, then came closer but didn't pass the column. Suddenly, another sound, a creak of wood, was right above him, followed by a familiar voice.
"You really are the worst spy ever. You know that, right?"
Kurt looked up to find Blaine smirking down at him. He was kneeling on the pew with his chin resting on his arms that were crossed on the back of the pew. "Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi," Kurt answered meekly, biting his lower lip.
"What'cha doin'?" Blaine asked in a sing-song voice.
"Um…praying?" Kurt offered.
Blaine laughed and reached out a hand. "Come on. Up you go," he said, pulling Kurt to his feet. "You've got to be stiff after sitting down there for an hour. Come over here and sit with me."
Kurt could feel the color rising in his cheeks as the embarrassment of being caught overtook him. He brushed off his slacks and walked around to the pew. He hesitated at the end, but stepped forward when Blaine patted the seat next to him. He gave his friend a small smile as he approached, then sat gingerly and looked down at his feet.
"You knew I was here the whole time?" he asked timidly.
"I saw you driving behind me," Blaine replied. Kurt looked up in surprise. "For future reference, if you're going to follow someone, don't do it in a beast like that Navigator of yours."
"Noted," Kurt said, returning his gaze to his shoes when he couldn't take Blaine's questioning expression anymore.
"Kurt?" Blaine said, waiting for Kurt to look at him before continuing. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a tone free of accusation but full of confusion.
Kurt had taken the tail end of his scarf in his hands and had begun twisting it nervously between his fingers. He was trying to find the right words to explain himself without sounding like a crazy stalker. Suddenly, Blaine reached out a hand and placed it on Kurt's to stop the anxious movements. Kurt took a breath and looked up finally, finding Blaine's kind eyes upon him. Blaine tilted his head slightly in question and seemed to be encouraging Kurt to speak.
Another deep breath, and Kurt began. "I, um, I…"
"Kurt, it's okay. Just tell me."
"I wanted to know where you were disappearing to these past few weeks. It seemed like you were making up excuses, and my curiosity got the better of me, so when you left tonight, I followed you." Kurt felt the flush of embarrassment in his face, but somehow felt better for having gotten that out in the open.
Blaine chuckled softly. "I should be mad at you, you know," he said, making Kurt's eyes go wide, "but I'm not. After all," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from Kurt for the first time, "I have been lying to you about where I've been."
"That's okay, Blaine. I mean, you don't have to tell me everything. I was just worried that there might be something wrong. I told Mercedes I thought you joined a gang."
Blaine's hearty laugh rang through the quiet church. "Yes, Kurt, I'm meeting with a renegade church choir. We're pretty badass – ooh, I shouldn't say that in church," he added, covering his mouth with his hand. Both boys looked at each other, then broke out into a fit of giggles.
They quieted after a moment, then Kurt spoke again. "Blaine, why didn't you just tell me you were going to church choir practice?"
Blaine stared at Kurt, as if trying to choose his words carefully. "Kurt, shortly after you came to Dalton, you told me about the time that your father was in the hospital. You ended up being really upset with your friends at McKinley over the issue of God and religion. I know you don't believe in God, and I respect that, honestly I do." He paused and took Kurt's hand again. "We've never really talked about my views on religion, and I was afraid…I was afraid it would cause an argument between us. I don't want that. So, I figured I'd keep it a secret, but you were too smart for me," he finished with a small smile.
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt said quietly. He felt terrible. He thought back to when he'd relayed the story of his falling out with the New Directions over the issue of God a few months back. He had pretty strongly expressed his position, and while at the end he said he had understood that his friends were just trying to help, he still hadn't changed his views on religion in general. Now that he thought about it, Blaine had been quiet during that story, just sort of nodding sympathetically but not really expressing an opinion either way himself.
"Blaine, I never meant to make you feel like you couldn't talk to me about God. You can talk to me about anything, always. Oh, I'm just the worst friend in the world," he finished sadly.
"What? No, no Kurt. You're not a bad friend. I just knew this was an area where our ideas differ, and I thought it was best to avoid a confrontation. But that wasn't really the best way to handle it, was it?" Blaine asked a little sheepishly.
Kurt smiled back at his friend. "Maybe we can both just agree to be honest with each other and respect each other's beliefs?" he responded. "I mean, I've known you for a little while, and you haven't tried to convert me yet, so I guess you're okay," he added jokingly. They both laughed softly, the awkwardness of a serious conversation making them quiet for a few moments.
"It is a pretty church," Kurt finally said, breaking the silence as he looked around.
"Yeah, it's nice here," Blaine agreed. "You know, not that I'm trying to convert you or anything," he continued with a tiny nudge to Kurt's arm, "but this church really isn't as bad as you might think. The Episcopal church in general, and this parish in particular, is very LGBT friendly. Our pastor is a lesbian, in fact." Kurt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "They support gay marriage, women in the ministry – lots of things that you might not expect. I'm not the most religious person in the world, but I like this parish. I feel accepted here."
The boys smiled at each other once more. "I'm glad, Blaine," Kurt said with complete sincerity. "Well, we should probably get going," he went on, standing up and stretching slightly, still a little stiff from sitting on the cold, hard floor for an hour.
"Um, Kurt?" Blaine asked, standing up beside him. "Would you do me one more favor before we go?" he said with a hopeful look in his eye.
"What?"
"Would you – would you want to sing with me? You know, up there?" he asked, nodding toward where the choir had been standing earlier.
Kurt smiled inwardly. One of his favorite things was singing with Blaine. He couldn't help one saucy remark, however. "You sure the place won't crumble to the ground if I do? I mean, I'm a heathen, after all."
"Oh, please," Blaine laughed with a roll of his eyes as he took Kurt by the arm and led him toward the front of the church. They walked over to the piano and Blaine sat down, rummaging through his messenger bag and pulling out a binder of music. "Any requests?" he asked, handing the binder over.
Kurt flipped through and made his selection quickly. "This has always been a favorite of mine," he said, propping the binder up on the music stand. Blaine raised an eyebrow in surprise at the choice. Kurt noticed, and added, "I know it's not the most secular choice. I may not be religious, but I can still appreciate a beautiful song."
Blaine grinned. "Of course you can. You start, and I'll join in, okay?"
Kurt nodded, and stood at the side of the baby grand while Blaine played the introductory bars. The notes rang through the church, and soon Kurt's high, clear voice began to sing.
O, holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear savior's birth
Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
'Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth
Blaine gazed at Kurt – his fair skin, light eyes, and chestnut hair made him look almost ethereal in the dim lighting of the church. His singing, as always, was flawless and gave Blaine the chills. He knew he said he would join in, but for the first time he could remember, Blaine couldn't find his voice.
A thrill of hope
The wear world rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees
O hear the angel voices
O night divine
O night when Christ was born
O night divine
O night divine
The last tones from Kurt resonated with the final notes of the piano and faded into silence. The two boys smiled at one another warmly. In that moment, it didn't matter that one was a believer and one was not.
"Merry Christmas, Kurt," Blaine said softly.
"Merry Christmas, Blaine."
