A couple notes:
This fic is based solely off and contains only songs from Marianas Trench (both albums Fix Me and Masterpiece Theatre). Like Glee, the numbers are either knowingly performed or spontaneous where it's sort of up to interpretation if they're actually being sung or not, if that makes sense.
It begins after the episode "Blame It On The Alcohol" and though it stays true to the show's past, it will not follow its continuity as I write.
This is my first ever fic so I hope you enjoy! Reviews would be incredibly appreciated. (:
Preface
Though the backs of the fingers caressing his cheek were soft like always, this time was infinitely different, because Kurt wasn't melting. He wasn't shamefully liquefying in his hands, messy and winded and starry-eyed.
The stroke left a fissure down his face, and it travelled down his clavicle, his spine, down all sides of his body to the insides of his wrists and the backs of his knees. He could almost hear himself cracking, and he remembered the boxes of chalk on the floor, that beautiful high sounds as it snapped against the blackboard, the white handprints on the backs of their blazers, the dust in those dark curls.
"I can't tell if I got chalk on your face or not."
They were all phantoms and skeletons now, plucking tears from Kurt's eyes with bony, skilful hands. It was only a matter of time before Kurt would crumble and be blown away.
Chapter I
It was an understatement to say that Blaine Anderson was confused, but this was not the same dissatisfying feeling he'd felt when questioning his sexuality. Blaine was learning that it was easier to decide things within yourself, about yourself – and though this was very much within him, every conceivable part of him, it was not about him. Most frustratingly, the only person he could imagine himself talking to about something like this was none other than the person in question.
And imagining that scenario was almost blood curdling. Nonetheless, he had to speak to him, if about Warbler rehearsal, coffee, the weather – heaven forbid it should come to that. Maybe just hearing his voice would be all he needed. Maybe it would suddenly and surely not be enough.
He rolled over in bed, reaching for his cell phone on the bedside table, and opened a new message. They hadn't spoken in person since making up after their argument in The Lima Bean, which admittedly Blaine was still embarrassed about. Kurt had been completely honourable when apologizing, which had struck Blaine speechless, unable to fathom the strength that lied within the seemingly fragile boy, like coals at the heart of his flaming personality.
The tiny screen was murderously garish in the darkness of Blaine's room, and he took some time to adjust his eyes to it before sitting up and pulling back the curtains, light spilling everywhere. Before typing anything, he checked the time – eight twelve wasn't too early to text someone on a Saturday, was it?
It took him several tries to spell everything correctly with fumbling fingers, as he was feeling more groggy and anxious than he had previously in his life.
- Hi. Are you busy today? It's been a while.
He was surprised by Kurt's swift reply, but remembered he must have been up early for his skin routine.
- Plans with Mercedes, actually. Maybe tomorrow?
Blaine slightly angered himself at considering to not answer, and quickly typed:
- Sure. Talk to ya tomorrow. Have fun.
He made sure to tack on the last two words. Blaine sunk a little into the bed, sighing. He felt like lying back down and wallowing in his uselessness, when an idea flashed into his mind. It was bright and ugly and he tried to blink it away, but there it was, burned into his eyelids and obnoxiously glowing wherever he placed his eyes.
Two hours later, Blaine found himself parked across the street from the Hudson-Hummel home.
"What am I thinking, what am I thinking," he repeated under his breath, drumming his fingers rapidly on the steering wheel. "What if they don't even know where he is, what am I thinking," After some more tuneless humming, he unbuckled but stopped when his hand closed around the lever.
The last time he'd foolishly acted on his feelings, which he had believed were strong, resulted in absolute disaster and heartbreak. But this was different, wasn't it? He wasn't going to profess anything, and certainly not publicly. He wasn't even sure what he would profess, anyway, which was actually why he wanted to see him now, to figure out exactly how he felt. What he felt.
Though perhaps he was being a little impatient.
He pushed the door open and made his way across the street. Kurt hadn't accompanied him the last two days after rehearsal for coffee, which he had always done so leading up to the fight, and regardless the true nature of Blaine's feelings for him, the boy's frequent absence was impossibly tangible and heavy. Worst of all, Blaine had never felt less like himself the past couple of days.
"Courage, Blaine, courage," he muttered stupidly before the door, trying to force-feed himself his own medicine. He breathed in deeply and knocked three times.
Luckily, it was Finn who answered, and Blaine felt his breath rush out of the smile that appeared on his face. According to Kurt, his last presence in his home had been a prickly one for Mr. Hummel.
"Oh hey, Blaine," Finn looked down at the much shorter boy with a friendly smile. "What's up?"
"Just wondering if Kurt was home, is all." he lied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"Actually I think he and Mercedes went to the mall, but I don't know when he'll be back."
"Oh perfect, that's fine." Blaine nodded, hoping he didn't look as silly as he felt.
"But I can tell him you stopped by?"
"No, no! I'll talk to him later, it'll be fine. Thanks anyway,"
"Alright, then." he shrugged. "Take care, dude."
"You too, Finn."
They smiled at each other once more, and next thing Blaine was back in his car, driving towards the itch he couldn't see or scratch. Parking wasn't too hard to find since it was still early. Across the lot, through the main doors – he hadn't a clue what kept him moving. It was as none of his pride was actually his, as though he'd fallen into it thoughtlessly like mud and now it was dripping down his body, trailing behind him with each step he took.
Unfortunately, it didn't make him feel any lighter.
Blaine didn't dare walk into any of the stores – despite some fabulous pieces catching his eye now and again – but instead wandered around aimlessly, not sure what he would even say if or when he ran into him. But it only took a couple minutes before the familiar figure materialized at the hall's end.
Kurt stood poised as ever on those indescribable legs of his, evidently absorbed in conversation with Mercedes while rifling through a sales bin outside the video store. From this distance, he couldn't read the emotions on their faces, but hardly cared their topic of discussion. Failing to find anything they wanted, they began to walk away and round the corner.
Slowly following, Blaine couldn`t take his eyes off those legs, and though they walked away, it felt as though they were walking all over him. And though Kurt couldn't know he was there, he never felt more ignored, and desire flooded through him.
Can I have your attention, whoa oh, oh oh, oh oh
I just open my mouth, is it clear, is it loud for you?
You just need me to be stable,
But I won't be able
To keep it together again
Now don't pretty please me,
You're not making it easy to slow me down
No wonder I-I-I-I, I-I'm not eating,
I-I-I-I, I-I'm not sleeping,
You say sing sing, to me,
Sing me something I need
Sing new, sing good,
God I wish that I could.
Blaine continued on, quickly turning whenever Kurt happened to look around or stop abruptly, hiding behind racks, plants, people. And though Kurt was completely unaware of his presence, Blaine was now sure of one thing – whether it be for love or lust, just friendship was not enough.
Are you hearing me now? Whoa oh, oh oh, oh oh
Hear the sad little sounds as they fall from my mouth
Whoa oh oh oh ohhhh yeahhh
All my indecision, all of my excess
Don't you ever tell me I'm not loving you best
I just need a minute, I just need a breath,
You're very hard to drink to my continued success
Do I have your attention? Whoaa-aaaaah
Sing sing to me, sing sing to me,
God I wish that I could, yeah-ah-ah-ahh.
The mud was all gone now, pooling at his ankles and Blaine was stuck. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he would kick off his shoes and get his feet wet.
"Hey, Blaine! How was your weekend?" asked Kurt when the other approached him in school on Monday. They began to walk down the crowded corridor.
"Oh you know; same old. How was yours?" he tried to sound normal, glancing sideways to see if Kurt noticed anything wrong in his voice.
"Comparatively good; Mercedes and I went shopping which is always fun albeit to no avail, and then on Sunday—" he suddenly came to a halt both in speech and motion, rounding on his friend. "Oh gosh, Blaine, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot."
His glittery blue eyes were horrified, and Blaine smiled. How could he not dissolve when his friend obviously still cared for him?
"Carole thought we needed some family bonding time and Finn and I weren't allowed our phones for the day, which was sort of fine anyway since mine died." He sighed apologetically. "Oh, are you sure you're not mad? Because we can do something tonight, if you're able."
Blaine broke into a laugh and put his arm around Kurt, forcing them to resume walking. "I'm not mad, but I admit I was a little disappointed. I've … missed you."
Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, but hurriedly averted them shyly. "Well, I concede I've missed your company as well."
The bell rang and they stopped, contrary to the other students who began to hustle to class.
"Are you up for coffee, tonight, then? I'll buy," offered Kurt, raising his eyebrows enticingly.
"Actually, I was thinking something a little nicer. What do you think about Breadstix? I'll buy."
Kurt furrowed his brows and laughed shortly, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "What is this, Blaine, a date?"
"Maybe," said Blaine, shrugging and skipping off with a smile, leaving Kurt in excited shock.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Are you ever going to stop asking me that?"
"I'm sorry," Kurt looked down at the table. "I'm just … a little confused, I guess. I thought we'd agreed to … remain friends."
Blaine felt a little panicky and leaned across. "A-are you sure?"
The other boy's eyes were wide as his lashes bat and he swallowed. "I – uh, yes, of course! I mean, I'm willing to – to take … a few steps forward. If that's what you really want."
Blaine relaxed and fell back into his seat, smiling. Staring. "I'm sure that's what I want."
It was Kurt's turn to feel a shiver down his midriff. Whenever Blaine stared at him like that he felt like he was being pinned down, cut open and operated on.
The rest of their date felt normal, like how they had always hung out previously. Effortless. But somehow there was a different air they were breathing around them. It was sweet, and they sucked it in inconspicuously, but it was hard not to take it all in at once.
At the end of the evening, Blaine pulled his car into the Hummel's driveway, turning down the music they'd been blasting and singing along to. They laughed for a while and slowly grew quiet, breaking eye contact when the sugary air spun thick.
"Do you want to come in for a while?"
Blaine hesitated. "Tonight doesn't seem like a good time,"
Kurt turned to where Blaine was looking, and saw his front door open, a familiar silhouette in the light.
"Ah. Good call."
The darker-haired boy smiled. "Good night, Kurt."
"Good night." He got out of the car, cool air flooding his lungs like water, and watched him drive off. "Hi, dad," he said, walking up to the door. Burt moved aside and let his son in, closing the door behind them.
"So how was it?"
"Fine. We've been out a lot before," he said, trying to maintain an indifferent persona.
"But this was different this time, wasn't it?"
"It was an actual date, yes, dad."
"He uh, he didn't try anything, did he?"
Kurt flushed and began to head upstairs to his room.
"Of course not, dad. This is only the beginning."