When Burt had told his son that they were going to spend some quality time doing fun things in New York over Christmas, a stream of activities flooded Kurt's mind. Obviously, shopping was the first one. But there were many more…suitable undertakings that they could also part take in. Ice skating, however, was not on Kurt's to-do list. So understandably Kurt was less than excited when his father hauled a cab and had them driven to the local ice rink, especially as he knew of Kurt's utter hatred of the sport.
Standing inside the barrier facing the ice, Kurt took one look at the crowd of light-hearted people, drunk on the 'spirit of Christmas', frolicking around the large sheet of frozen water, slipping and sliding and crashing to the ground with a thud. He shuddered at the mere sight of it all and turning to his father with a scowl he proclaimed, "I'll be over there", pointing toward the large group of spectators gathered underneath the glass canopy overlooking the rink, "Have fun."
Turning on a dime, he tried desperately to scurry away, but whined when he felt his father pulling him back with ease. Turning back, Burt smiled sympathetically at him.
"Look kiddo, I know you're scared, but you gotta face your fears! Besides, you said yourself that you wanted this Christmas to be all about change, right? And who doesn't want to ice skate in New York on Christmas?"
Kurt extended his arms out exasperated, pointing his index fingers toward his face.
"This guy! That's who."
Kurt knew all too well that he was going out on that ice one way or another as his father was more than a convincing persuader, but that didn't mean he couldn't put up some sort of a fight.
"Moreover, who's going to come with me? I mean, you know and I know that there isn't a hope in hell I'm going out there by myself and you can't exactly ice skate, dad, so…"
Feeling proud of himself, he stuffed his cold hands into his coat pockets, protecting them from the chilly December air. His brow furrowed when he noticed his father smirking, his eyes cast downwards to his cell phone.
"Don't be so sure of yourself there, Kurt."
Kurt was just about to open his mouth to question when a familiar voice caught his attention.
"Package for Kurt Hummel!"
Kurt's head whipped around in the direction of the voice, his eyes wide as saucers.
"Blaine?"
He didn't notice his voice had reduced to little more than a whisper, until Blaine stood in front of him looking more than slightly nervous.
"Blaine!"
Before he knew what was happening, Kurt's feet were taking him straight toward the dark haired boy, his somewhat smaller frame snug in a bright red scarf and black woollen duffle coat. Blaine looked almost taken aback when Kurt flung his arms around his shoulders tightly holding himself against Blaine's warm front. Blaine couldn't help the shiver of electricity that ran through him as he felt Kurt placing his head in the crook of his neck just like he used too. Kurt's fingertips clung firmly to Blaine's back; taking in the warmth of the latter's body.
Neither had had any physical contact with the other since that night at Battery Park, and though Kurt had always assumed this particular situation was certain to cause some sort of awkwardness should it happen, he was almost to the point of weeping at the ease of it.
Those cold and harsh words Kurt had said to Blaine that night at McKinley rang clear in his mind and while Blaine's broken demeanour still stood as vivid in his eyes as though it was only yesterday, what Kurt had told him was nothing short of the truth.
Returning back to Ohio was a mistake and it didn't feel like home anymore. In fact, it felt quite the opposite. It felt foreign and loathsome but when he thought about it, he couldn't put his finger on just why it did feel so insufferable. It would have been easy to assume it was just because of Blaine and those wounds were still fresh and raw but the whole reason why he had gone back in the first place was to talk to Blaine, thinking it would give him some type of closure.
But standing there with those arms rung securely around his slim waist and breathing in that unmistakeable sent of Blaine – virility with a hint of spice. Feeling that warm breath on the nape of his neck and those long eyelashes tickling his jawline, he finally understood why everything had felt so alien not so long ago. This was home; right here in Blaine's arms and no matter what he would tell himself every night before he went to sleep, with his fingers caressing that cold, empty space beside him, could change that.
The rush of cold air that hit his body when Blaine pulled back from his embrace pulled him out of the happy cordiality of his thoughts, running his hands down his front to iron out the invisible creases in his coat. He tried in vain to hold back a smirk that was begging to grown on his crimson lips, his eyes like magnets to Blaine's, the latter's eyes ogling his shoes but the anxiousness in his stare was all but impossible to ignore.
"You're happy to see me?"
The sound of genuine surprise that laced Blaine's softly spoken question pained Kurt's heart. It shouldn't be this way between them, yet it was and though if felt so sickeningly strange now that Blaine was standing right there in front of him, it had begun to feel mundane to Kurt when he was all alone, with an unenthusiastic silence surrounding his distain.
Placing one hand on Blaine's faintly slumped shoulder, squeezing his grip on it ever so slightly, Kurt felt the weight of sleepless nights and self-sympathetic driven days of binge eating lift from his chest and exit his body, a little at a time with every word he spoke.
"Always. I am, always."
For the first time since they had set eyes upon each other again, Kurt felt Blaine truly looking at him. Kurt wanted desperately to wipe away the tears that threaten to fall from Blaine's glossed eyes, but thought better of it. He settled instead for an overly sweet but sincere smile. Coughing lightly to clear away the break in his voice, Blaine motioned to Kurt's father, standing just a few feet away from the two with a knowing glint in his eye.
"I'm sorry for arriving unannounced. Your dad brought me here; he said it would be alright. I hope I'm not intruding…"
Blaine felt dizzy at the nervousness that was ripping through him. 'It's just Kurt. Your best friend, your first love… Your ex…
Kurt recognised his apprehension straight away; he always ran a hand over his gelled locks when he was nervous and with the rate at which he was doing it now, Kurt almost felt the need to alert him of the possibility of friction burn.
Watching Blaine struggling for words, Kurt was beginning to see some truth in what a handful of people had told him of Blaine and his supposed change in persona. He did look like a shadow of his former self; once so sure of himself and his beliefs and intelligence, now he looked like a child on their first day of school struggling to come to terms with it all.
Finally it looked like he had given up all hope of communication and just let his arms fall by his sides in defeat, a deflated breath falling from his mouth. He looked like he wanted to scream. Kurt took this as his cue to intervene before Blaine could find a way to attack himself internally with his own fists.
"Blaine, stop, it's okay-" Blaine cut him off with a low frustrated whine.
"No! It's not! Okay? I'm pathetic! I'm fucking pathetic! I came here knowing that I was going to get to see you after, like, three months of imagining and pretending and wishing you were right beside me. And I could talk to 'invisible you' 'till I was blue in the face, but when it comes to 'real you' I'm stumped. Nada! Nothing!"
He swivelled his head around from left to right to make sure he wasn't causing a scene before continuing.
"Kurt, I wrote a speech just so I could make sure that I was going to talk to you and not stand there in front of you like some lame life-sized cardboard cut-out, yet here I am, 90% cardboard. I'm giving myself 10% because I'm still breathing… I think."
Kurt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, before holding his hands out in front him, motioning for Blaine to stop ranting.
"Blaine? Stop it."
Before Blaine could argue, Kurt spoke again.
"Blaine! I said, stop it. You are not pathetic, okay? You're nervous; I understand because I am too. This is a big moment for us. You can't expect it to be without some awkwardness."
"I know. But, I didn't want to be a blubbering mess in front of you. I've already given you enough reasons to be ashamed of me; I don't want that list getting any longer."
Kurt's feet took on a life of their own as they walked him straight up to Blaine's forlorn figure, faces inches apart and before long, his arms were joining in on the fun as the rose from their place by Kurt's side to place his now gloved hands atop of Blaine's sunken shoulders, squeezing gently. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kurt stared into Blaine's stunning hazel eyes and saw more than any apology could ever hope to hold. Dark negativities like pain anguish and regret swam side by side with happiness, love and hope. Kurt felt as though he could live in those eyes…
"What happened between us, happened, and there's nothing that can change that. What you did was wrong but from what I've heard, you are more than aware of that. I'm not going to pretend like it didn't hurt me, because it did and it does and I'm sure it will for some time. But the only way you learn to heal is by accepting the pain, realising it's real and working towards ways of making it better."
Blaine looked hopelessly entranced by Kurt's words, lost in every sentiment. Kurt continued, knowing he had Blaine's full attention.
"We have a lot of talk about and I'm sure that there are questions that we need answered and things that need to be said and done. We need to sit down and do all of that face to face and in private; which means, not here in the open, but behind closed doors where we can discuss everything. Sound fair?"
Blaine nodded firmly. "That sounds perfect."
Taking a deep breath, feeling those butterflies he become so accustomed to fluttering in his stomach, he took Blaine's hand in his, rubbing his thumb softly over Blaine's knuckle. Blaine looked like a puppy having his belly scratched for the first time. Kurt knew exactly what Blaine was feeling because he was feeling it too. Kurt's mind quickly flashed back to a couple of weeks prior and a conversation with Rachel as the two lay snuggled up on the couch watching a bad Lifetime movie.
"Do you still want him?"
Kurt took a sip from his cocoa before turning to Rachel.
"What?"
"I asked you if you still want him."
"…Him?"
"Blaine."
Kurt roughly swallowed, wishing he hadn't asked. Rachel eyed him intently before her expression changed from curious to critical.
"Kurt!"
"What? I can't help it! I still love him, Rachel, he is my first love."
"Was, Kurt; not is. It shouldn't be 'is' since he went behind your back and broke your heart."
"Rachel.."
"No! Okay, he did a terrible thing Kurt!"
"Rachel, you cheated on Finn with Puck. Don't you think it's a little unfair of you to criticize Blaine for doing something that you did too?"
Rachel gave him her best bitch glare.
"Okay, first of all" she started, holding up her index finger, "What I did with Puck was nothing more than a little rolling around and mostly PG, except for that part when my skirt rode up but before and after that – totally innocent. And, second of all, I didn't do it to hurt Finn; I did it because Finn hurt me. See, different. I'm a good girl, Blaine's a jackass."
"Right, whatever you say."
"I'm serious! He did a terrible thing and you deserve better than someone who's just going to purposely hurt you like that. You need a man who is going to take care of you and your needs."
"My needs?! God Rachel, you're turning me into you! I don't have needs." Placing his cup on the coffee table, he continued, "Trust me, Blaine kept my needs very satisfied."
Rachel's eyes widen as her mouth formed an 'O' shape.
"He's a man whore!"
Dropping his head into his hands, he chortled, "Oh my God!"
"You've been blinded by the lust of a man whore! Ugh, I feel so dirty. I sang so many duets with him… He was my Tony! My Tony wasn't meant to be a slut! Now, I'll have to re-think the entire character of Maria. She-"
"Rachel! Really, I say this on behalf of me and everyone else who has to put up with your insanity: . Blaine was my first and I was his, he would never degrade himself like that."
"…You also thought he'd never cheat…"
"…Yes, however, I don't know the whole story of why he did it and until then –"
"Stop making excuses for him."
"I'm not making excuses for him!"
"Yes, you are. You are so fixated by him and his –"
"Don't even go there."
"How do you know he didn't cheat on purpose? You keep saying it isn't like that, but how can you be sure? How do you know he didn't do 'it' just to do…'it'?"
"Because as horrible as what he did was, my Blaine would never do that to me on purpose."
"…Your Blaine?"
Kurt looked to the rug, mentally kicking himself for letting that small endearment slip.
"So I take it that there's still a spark?"
"…There always will be."
"Would you rekindle it?"
Kurt grabbed his cup from the table, muttering a good night to Rachel. Sauntering to his bed he flopped down on it, his head buried in the pillow.
"You didn't answer my question!" Rachel bellowed from the living area.
Pulling out the black framed picture of Blaine's Dalton yearbook photo - that once hung proudly on his locker door – from under his pillows, he wiped away a stray tear from his cheek, whispering to no one in particular, "In a heartbeat."
If there was any doubt in his mind before, it had been settled now – that fire was still burning bright as the New York City skyline on the darkest of nights.
Settling their worn out limbs on the frim but comfy couch, Kurt relished in the release of stretching out his aching legs, relaxing with a sigh into the mass of various sized cushions behind his back. It was amazing what a few hours of skating could do to a guy; he was beginning to feel more like he had just ran a marathon rather than skate around an ice rink. Well, tried to skate anyway.
Funnily enough, Kurt didn't even feel any of these now nulling pains developing within him. He had to admit he had a great time, probably the most enjoyable time he has had in months. It was difficult for Kurt to find any real means of fun these days it seemed. While he loved interning for Vogue, it was quite a demanding job. And thanks to his blossoming relationship with Isabelle, he was also working on his own designs at home, tinkering and playing with them. And even when he had free time, he was becoming more and more accustomed to spending it alone since Rachel was more inclined to spend her time with Brody.
Kurt liked to pretend that it was because of this that he was enjoying himself so much, but in reality he knew it was also because of a certain dark haired individual that was now sprawled out on the opposite end of the couch. Watching his chest rising and falling as he dosed contently, Kurt realised that Blaine had just floated back into his atmosphere with such effortlessness and it scared him. Saying that, it also excited him, but that too was terrifying. It had just been a few hours and already Kurt felt most of the pent-up negative energy that had been bubbling inside of him for weeks just disappeared without a trace and he barely even noticed it happening. It will never cease to amaze Kurt just how freeing it was being with Blaine. He put Kurt at ease, making him feel light as a feather and giddy with just a simple flash of those obscenely pearly whites. Kurt felt happy, and it wasn't a forged happy, put on for something or someone but a genuine happiness that was just for himself. Kurt had to remind himself of the terrible irony of it all; it was really the only buzz kill he could think of.
He tried desperately not to cast his stare across the couch, knowing if he did he would just end up gawking and that wouldn't make things awkward at all….
When Blaine had told him he had been with someone Kurt wanted to hate him. Hell, he had every reason to hate him. But he couldn't hate him, not in a million fucking years and that really pissed Kurt off. His heart wasn't just going to un-love Blaine, nor would his memory suddenly forget everything they had been through together. A fuzzy feeling swamped his stomach when he thought of how his mouth wasn't just going to forget Blaine's taste, not that he wanted it too.
Sadly for Kurt, despite all of his tireless attempts, he was still at square one, and by the looks of things, he might as well build fucking property there and accept the obvious: It was going to take every inch of his strength to forget his and Blaine's past romance. Looking down at his hands now toying with the tassel on one of the couch cushions, he was beginning to think there was a reason for that. It was well established that Blaine wasn't just some guy; he was much, much more than just some guy. He was perfect.
From his beautiful face, with those one of a kind honey glazed eyes that felt like they were boring right through you when they looked at you and those ridiculously tempting lips. But there was more to Blaine than just his looks. Blaine was one of those fortunate ones that were born with so many layers, he didn't have to rely on his looks, but they definitely helped.
His passion, his creativity and most importantly, his heart – they were some of his best assets. While Blaine was dark and handsome, he lacked a little in the 'tall' department but he wouldn't be put down without a fight. For all of the dents that Kurt's body had engraved into the brightly painted lockers at McKinley, Kurt could at least say he was never on the receiving end of a fist. For all the disgusting and confidence butchering words and slurs that were thrown at him, he could at least say that he had a safe haven at home where the world felt stable and bearable. And for all of the pointless, countless and mindless haters that Kurt had to put up with in his environment, he could at least say that he had a father that would easily bulldoze anyone and everyone who even thought of hurting his son.
Blaine, however, couldn't say that. And that, Kurt decided, was Blaine's best asset. His bravery and determination was limitless.
Kurt realised Blaine was something special when, having only known him for a couple of days, couldn't agree quickly enough when Kurt had asked him to help him confront Kartofsky after he had force kissed him in the locker room. Kurt wouldn't even tell Mercedes that that had been his first real kiss, but telling Blaine felt so natural, like, somehow, he was going to make it all better. Quite frankly, the trust Kurt placed in Blaine was incredible, especially considering how they were practically strangers. Then something struck Kurt.
Was it unfair to place all of that trust and hope on Blaine's shoulders so early on? When Kurt had met Blaine that day at Dalton Academy, he instantly fell into Kurt's list of idols. He was so foreign to Kurt and so different toward everyone else in Kurt's environment. He actually understood what Kurt was all about. He got it, the pain, the difficulties, everything. It was as if Kurt's every hope and dream had been moulded into a man. To Kurt, Blaine was like superman. How he spoke so sincerely to Kurt, not pitying him or nodding his head along with the conversation without really understanding it. No, Blaine just let him speak and gave Kurt the answers Kurt had wanted to hear.
He hadn't tried to be Kurt's knight in shining armour either, which particularly pulled at Kurt's heart strings. Kurt didn't want somebody to fight his battle for him, he just wanted a shield to protect him every now and then and that's exactly what Blaine became. He was there when Kurt needed him and would give Kurt nothing but encouragement when Kurt would tell him of how badly he wanted to slushie those homophobic morons right back, giving them a taste of their own medicine.
But was it really fair to place Blaine on such a pedestal? Considering the fact that Kurt hardly knew anything about Blaine's background, he just assumed given Blaine's persona that everything was awesome for him. But he was wrong, very wrong. When Blaine had told Kurt he had been gay bashed so severely that it had left him hospitalized for a week, Kurt felt two sensations build up inside of him that he had never felt before; an uncontrollable desire to jump across the table and pepper Blaine's dejected face with kisses – one for each twinge of pain those bastards had caused him – and a deep gnawing anger that Kurt didn't know he could feel. At that very moment, all he had wanted to do was go back to that night outside Westerville and be there. Just, stand by Blaine's side and take every blow and break with him; for him. He wanted to fight for Blaine.
Even then, sitting in the peaceful silence of the living area of his and Rachel's apartment, his fist was clenched. Pushing himself to soothe the anger effervescing inside of him, he thought back to his happiest memory with Blaine.
His fury painted expression turned to a softer one as he let his eyes shut, feeling those butterflies beginning to flutter again. He couldn't possibly count on both hands the amount of times he had dreamt of his first 'I Love You' moment. If memory served, he had wished for it to be: spontaneous, genuine and airy.
"Oh my God.. You should have seen it! We all look at the top ten list for showcase and we all just went numb." Kurt began, reminiscing over his and the New Directions' interesting eventful time in New York.
Blaine sat hunched over in his chair, resting his head on his hand listening to Kurt intently. There was a peculiar sparkle in Blaine's eye that hadn't gone on unnoticed to Kurt, though he didn't bring it up.
Though even in his almost trance like state, Blaine couldn't avoid the rather embarrassingly loud laugh that erupted from him when Kurt recited Santana's fuming rant that only Santana could get away with.
"I mean the plane ride home was completely silent; like no one said anything!"
Before leaving, Kurt couldn't hide his excitement at travelling to New York. It was the city of his dreams, the city he hoped to call home one day. Blaine had hoped Kurt would have had the time of his life, hoping his expectations would be met or even bettered. But by the sounds of it, it had been a less than stellar experience.
"Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine sympathized softly. Kurt took a sip of his Latté, pursing his lips delicately, shaking his head as he placed his coffee cup back onto the table.
"It was still amazing, I mean, I flew on a plane for the first time in my life, I ate breakfast at Tiffany's.." Kurt stated, beginning to list off all of the 'first-time' experiences he had had on his New York endeavours.
Blaine tried hard to control the excited quivering feeling that was growing steadily in his stomach. Staring at Kurt's excited expression, like a child on Christmas morning. No matter what, Kurt could almost always find the happy hidden behind the larger depression. His innocence about everything, no matter how saddening or irritating the situation seemed was undeniably adorable in so many ways. Blaine wasn't sure when his brain and mouth had agreed to work for themselves for just a minute, but before he could stop himself the words were out in the open for Kurt's ears to capture and keep.
"I love you."
It sounded so dreamy and almost whispered, but Blaine, though surprised by his sweet spur-of-the-moment confession, he felt good about it. He had wanted to say if for a while now, but he couldn't seem to find the right way, place or time to do so. Now it was out in the open and he couldn't have been more delighted.
Kurt sat stunned for a few moments, thickly swallowing his mouthful of Latté; Blaine's face a wash with love. Kurt couldn't believe how normal those words sounded coming from Blaine's mouth, as if he had been saying that sentence for years. He was so lost in Blaine's loving gaze that he almost forgot to respond. Mentally kicking himself, his insides screamed for calm, responding in an equally casual tone.
"I love you too."
Kurt couldn't pinpoint when exactly his life took a turn for the better, but he was pretty sure it was somewhere around 'My name's Blaine'. The school year had started so bleakly, with the bullying getting worse what with Kartofsky stealing his first kiss then subsequently threatening his life, Kurt had started wondering what else was going to happen to him before he hit rock bottom, which then led him to believe it couldn't get any worse and maybe he was already there. Many visions flooded Kurt's mind with how the school year would end, but none of them were ever quite like this.
"You know, when you think about it, Kurt Hummel's had a pretty good year."
And that was the absolute undeniable truth. It had been a great year, probably one of the best he'll ever get to live. He experienced real love for the first time – both given and received, if only for a couple of months, he experienced what life would be like if everyone was just excepting of everything and everyone when he transferred to Dalton but then transferring back wasn't all that bad either. Especially as it also included being serenaded by his striking boyfriend and company in front of the entire student body of McKinley, which had to have been a first.
Blaine had given him his first real kiss, and if that was God's way of telling Kurt 'Sorry for all the bullshit, son', it was more than a perfect apology. It was a kiss that lived up to everything they said in the movies – fireworks, goose-bumps and all that. It was bone chilling in all the right ways and carried so much love and emotion, Kurt felt as though he was floating. Kurt, being the naïve person that he was, always thought a first kiss would be just a peck or a quick 'Wham Bam, Thank You Ma'am', if you will. He never expected his first kiss – in Kurt's mind, it was his first kiss – to be so… Sensual? Hot? He wasn't sure exactly how to describe but all he knew was that it was much, much more than he had ever expected and it left him wanting more.
Sure, that year also came with its downs – being elected Prom Queen was probably one of the worst, but with the night ending with Blaine asking him to dance in front of everyone, simultaneously exorcizing his own demons in the process, Kurt couldn't really say the whole event was a disaster.
Kurt's slender fingers continued to play with the silky stringed golden tassel of the horrid Christmas themed cushion's Rachel insisted on buying, even though Kurt practically gagged at the sheer cheesiness of them. He was so caught up with the innumerable thoughts swimming in his head; he failed to notice that Blaine had stirred from his spot on the couch, once lying back resting his tired body against the comforting cool material of the upholstery, now sitting up on his side with his legs tucked beneath him, watching Kurt intently. He had wanted to say something to break Kurt from his thoughts, cough gingerly, perhaps. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Kurt, his snow white pale skin looking even more aweing in the dim flickering of the red round glassed tea lights.
Kurt looked entranced in his thoughts, his eyes staring intently into the flame of one red globed Kurt had decided gave the large space a more cozied feel. A sudden movement on the opposite end of the couch caught his attention. Looking across, he watched as Blaine leaned over the arm rest of the couch, into his duffle bag on the floor. Turning back, Kurt's breath hitched slightly when Blaine placed a small rectangular box, onto the coffee table and pushed it across the glass surface until it stopped behind Kurt's long forgotten cup of Ceylon black tea. It was wrapped simply, in plain glossy red gift wrap with a shiny gold ribbon and bow.
Kurt cast his eyes back to Blaine, who was trying desperately to avoid Kurt's eyes. Kurt wasn't expecting to see Blaine this Christmas, never mind receive a gift from him. Kurt felt a sudden surge of guilt flood him – he had nothing to give Blaine in return. He hadn't bought him anything. Kurt sucked in a breath. Reaching across, he grabbed a hold of the box and placing it carefully into his lap, he examined the gift tag.
"Kurt,
Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore."
Swallowing a small lump in his throat he didn't realise had formed; he began to open the ribbon, careful not to tear the paper or bow. Opening the paper off of the present, a plain white box stared up at him. Propping it up on his lap, he opened the box flap and felt tears begin to instantly form, blurring his vision.
Turning back to Blaine, his mouth slightly agape, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. Blaine, taking a shaking breath replied, "It's for the tree I gave your dad."
Kurt looked back to the box, sniffing quietly. He and his dad hadn't had a Christmas tree since his mother died. She had loved the Christmas tree; it was undoubtedly her favourite holiday decoration. Some of Kurt's favourite memories of his mother was helping her decorate the Christmas tree every year, especially when she would lift him up into her arms to place the star at the top of it. Those happy memories were just painful now. The year she died, Kurt and his dad agreed not to have a tree in the house; it was like their way of privately morning her loss. After that, they just didn't bother with it. One year Kurt had tried, but he couldn't handle it – even though it was years later, the pain still stung raw as though it were the first. Blaine, of all people, knew this and Kurt couldn't fathom why he had thought this would be a good idea.
"You know we haven't had a Christmas tree since-"
"-since you're mother died. I know."
"How did you get this?
Blaine inhaled softly, daring a quick look at Kurt's face.
"On the flight over, your dad told me you wanted this Christmas to be different. 'All about change', I think he said. I know I'm not exactly helping that by being here, but... I thought maybe a Christmas tree would be the biggest change you'd have to make. But, I thought that just a tree would be too painful so I thought maybe having your mom's perfume bottle hanging on it would be more like celebrating her memory rather than mourning it."
Kurt sucked in a breath, placing the box on the floor.
"I know it's not my choice. You don't have to; I'm not saying you do…"
When Kurt raised his hand to wipe a falling tear on the back of his sleeve, Blaine's lower lip quivered in a rush of panic.
"I was just trying to help. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to be upset…"
Blaine was internally screaming at himself. "I'm so sorry! My intentions weren't to make you cry, I swear. I don't want to make you cry again" he finished, his voice breaking.
Before Blaine could register what was going on, Kurt had risen off of the couch and left the room. Blaine sat up straight, looking at the door with tears in his eyes.
"What have I done now?" he whispered to himself desperately. "Kurt?" he called, "Kurt! Please, I'm sorry! I'll take it back, I swear. Please, Kurt, just talk to me! Please?" he finished, falling back onto the couch in sob. Not even caring that tears were now flooding his face, he held his head in his hands. Pushing his hand into his pocket, he grabbed at his phone cursing as it fell to the ground with a thud from his damp fingertips. Reaching down to pick it up, a tear fell from his eye and landed on the screen. Wiping it away with his thumb he furiously searched through his contacts for Sam's number, pressing call when he scrolled upon it.
He didn't even give Sam a second to answer before the floodgates opened and he found himself sobbing down the line, begging Sam for some help, advice even sympathy – anything!
"What have I done?" he bawled, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand, "I gave him the perfume bottle, I thought it would be a good idea. He wanted change, I was trying to help! And now I've pushed him too far and he ran out of the room – okay, he walked, but it's the same thing. The look on his face – Sam, I'm an asshole. I've hurt him, again! What the fuck is wrong with me? God, we were getting somewhere, we ice skated, he was happy to see me and now I've blown it! He'll never talk to me again! He'll never look at me again! Sam, please tell me what to do?!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down. Dude, what the hell happened?"
"I just told you!"
"Sorry! I couldn't understand a word you said with all the sobbing and the snuffling."
"I'm sorry, God, I'm doing it again! I'm an idiot."
"You are not. Just…take a deep breath and tell me what happened."
Inhaling deeply, trying to control his sobs, Blaine repeated his initial ramble albeit in a more understandable manner. Sam listened, his heart aching for Blaine. He really did care about Blaine; he had become one of his best friends in little or no time at all. But watching Blaine go through all he had involving his and Kurt's breakup was difficult and if he was honest with himself, he'd never seen someone to be so self-deprecating in his life. Blaine was all out punishing and tormenting himself for what he had done to Kurt. It was as if he had broken his own heart into a million pieces when he did what he did.
The thing that muddled Sam the most was why Blaine cheated. At first, he brushed it off as just typical cheating, that it was nothing more than a mindless spur-of-the-moment mistake. But the more he thought about it, the more he was beginning to understand it. Blaine didn't cheat to cheat. He didn't cheat with the intention of hurting Kurt, if anything; it was the other way around. It was almost as if he had cheated to tell himself he and Kurt weren't going to make it. That he and Kurt weren't meant to be together just like they – just like Blaine, had believed planned for and dreamed about.
"Dude, you were doing a nice thing, but maybe Kurt just wasn't ready for that big of a change yet, don't just automatically assume it was your fault, okay?"
"But, I should have known! I should guess that, but I didn't and now I've made him cry again and he won't talk to me and-"
"Blaine! Get a grip! You're not going to help anybody by making yourself a wreck; just chill, alright? It was a nice gesture, it was a sweet idea and maybe the timing was just off."
"But-"
"No buts, okay? You were doing a nice thing, end of story. Look you should be celebrating the fact that you and Kurt actually talked in the first place, that's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"I guess."
"You shouldn't be making yourself an emotion wreck. Dude, let Kurt have a few moments, it probably just brought back a few flashbacks or something. He's probably just having a little fresh air and clearing his head."
"But what about if he thinks I'm trying to push my way back into his life? I mean, I'd love to be a part of it again but on his terms. What if he thinks I'm trying to rush him into making that decision? And using his mother as an excuse? Oh God, I am an asshole."
"Hey, that's not what you were doing! You were trying to help him with his call for change; you're not an asshole and stop calling yourself that!"
"Sorry."
"And stop saying that too!"
"Sor- …Never mind."
"Just, get a glass of water or something and relax, alright? Now, I've gotta go but I'll call you tonight. Just please, don't beat yourself up about this, alright?"
"I promise."
"Good, I'll talk to you tonight. Say… eight thirty-ish?"
"That's good."
"Talk to you man."
"Thanks Sam."
Hanging up with Blaine, Sam threw the phone on his bed beside and leaned back, heaving a sigh. Thinking for a second, he pushed himself up quickly, grabbing his phone and dialling Kurt's number.
"Come on…" he muttered, listening to the dial tone.
Kurt stood hunched over the banister of the fire escape, his head in his hands.
"Blaine is a cheater. Blaine is a cheater. Blaine is a cheater…" He kept repeating that sentiment over and over in his head, again and again trying to make himself believe it. It was impossible to understand exactly how Kurt was feeling at that exact moment – rippling anger blended with raw emotion making his heart beat with that fond reminder that he was never going to be over this man. But it also made him question whether or not he wanted to be.
'Who else would have done that?' he thought to himself, 'who else would have dared even suggesting that?' Nobody but Blaine; and that made his heart soar and ache in equal measures. He hadn't anticipated having Blaine here in New York – in his home, at least not now. He wanted to speak to Blaine when he was ready, on his terms. The last thing he had envisioned was his father – of all people – bringing Blaine here. He still hadn't gotten a chance to ask his dad just why he had brought him here in the first place.
His hands were beginning to soak with tears. All he wanted was a quiet Christmas – nothing special, no huge Christmas get-together – not that he had that may people to get together with. He wanted no part in Rachel's Christmas horniness, in fact the further he could stay away from that the better. All he wanted was quietness, to just be alone and…
Alone…
Now that thought hadn't crossed his mind. Had he really intended on spending Christmas alone? Sure, he wasn't a Christmas-y type person, but he sure as hell didn't want to be all on his own, even if he hated the holiday.
"I want change this Christmas."
His words rang out loud and clear in his head, but what had really done to even try and change something? Well, being alone on Christmas was going to be a change – a pathetic one, but a change none the less. But the change he had envisioned was more positive rather than 'tear-jerking Holiday Special' material.
His phone began to ring in his pocket. With a dejected sigh, he pushed his hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone, wiping his eyes with his free hand to read the caller ID.
'Sam Evans' it read. Glancing back toward the door behind him, he hesitated before pressing 'accept'.
"Hello?" His voice cracking.
"Kurt, I know it's none of my business but you've gotta hear me out, okay? So, Blaine called me and he told me what happened and I know that it's probably really overwhelming but you've got to understand that the guy is an absolute mess without you. He loves you Kurt, so fucking much. I swear, since he and you broke up, he's been single handily keeping Kleenex in business. When he told Burt what he had done and Burt suggested he go to New York to see you he fre-"
"He told my dad? Sam! He told my dad about… I mean, he told him he…"
"Yeah, he told him everything. "
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I was there with him. I mean, I wasn't in the room or anything but I had to go with him cause he was terrified of going on his own and shit so I went with him. Why?"
"Did you hear their conversation?"
"Most of it, yeah."
"Can you remember what they said?"
"No word for word but I can remember the gist of it."
"Tell me; tell me everything. Everything they said!"
"What? Why?"
"I just… Just tell me, okay?"
"Alright… So we knocked on the door and your dad answered and Blaine said 'Hi Mr Hummel' and I was all like –"
"No! Tell me what Blaine told my dad, Sam."
"He told him he made a really big mistake and he was super sorry."
"Did he say why?"
"Why he was sorry? Well, because he loves you. I thought we went over this."
Kurt pinched his nose in frustration. "Why he cheated, Sam! Did he say why?"
"Oh yeah, he said this big heartfelt thing about how he was sure you were going to move on and he was holding you back but he didn't want to let you go so he slept with that guy to kind of, I don't know, give you a reason to dump him, I guess? But he said that the second it was over he realised that he had made this gigantic mistake and –"
"What?!"
"What'd you mean what?"
"I mean what as in; he slept with another guy so I would… So I would dump him?!"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Why the hell would he even-"
"He said you were moving on with your life. He said he didn't want to be the rock holding you down… Or something like that…"
Kurt could practically see Sam's confusion.
"Why would he think I was moving on without him? Where the hell did he get that idea?"
"Well, you weren't picking up his calls plus you did seem a little too busy to care about what was going on with him."
"No I –"
"You rejected his bowtie questions, Kurt. You of all people should know that's closest you can come to bitch slapping Blaine without doing it physically."
"Yeah but New York is busy and Vogue is…busy…"
"Yeah, well, he's a senior in high school but he still obsesses over you every day."
Kurt felt something in his stomach plunge.
"Kurt? Kurt, you there?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm… Sam, what should I do?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Kurt kept his eyes firmly fixed on the traffic below. Then he heard Sam take a breath before replying, "Do what your heart says you should."
"Sam, the last thing I need right now is something out of a story book."
"Hey, I'm serious. Look, do something for me."
"Sam…"
"No, just trust me; do it. Just, close your eyes and relax. Doing it?"
"Fine, yes, go on."
"If he never cheated, where would you be right now?"
"…W-what do you mean?"
"It's a simple question, where would you be?"
Kurt swallowed his sob down, taking a ragged breath, he whispered, "In his arms."
"Do you miss that feeling?"
"Every day."
After a moment, Sam plucked up the courage to ask, "Does he make you happy, Kurt?"
"So much" Kurt sobbed.
"Do you want to be happy and be the someone who gives second chances, or do you want to have a little piece of your heart missing and wonder 'what if' for the rest of your life? Cause, if you want to be happy and loved unconditionally, I know a guy who could really use some of your love right now. He's right at your fingertips if you want him. It's your call Kurt. Just, ask yourself something – is he worthy of a second chance or are you capable of finding another one-in-a-million?"
Kurt stood still, breathing in Sam's words. Then, something flashed in his mind.
'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.'
Kurt choked out a sob, a smile stretching across his face.
"Sam?"
"…Yes?" Sam replied, almost fearfully.
"I hope you know that you're nobody's sidekick. You're a fully-fledged superhero."
Hearing Sam chuckling on the other end, Kurt said his goodbye. Turning quickly on his heel, he raced back inside.
"Blaine? Blaine!"
Rushing through the door, he looked toward the couch, but Blaine wasn't there. Kurt swallowed nervously, cursing quietly. Suddenly the door pushed back. Kurt raced up to it with open arms, stopping abruptly when his father appeared in the door way.
"Dad?"
"Hey Kurt, everything alright?"
"No, no it's not. Did you see Blaine? Where is he? Dad, where's Blaine! I've got to talk to him, I need Blaine! Dad!"
"Whoa, calm down. Kurt, breathe. I passed him on the stairs, I tried to stop him but he said just said he couldn't. He was in tears, said he was heading to the airport."
"No! No! No!"
Kurt pushed past his father, racing down the stairs as quickly as possible.
Blaine's body tensed when the cold New York air hit his skin. He tried in vain to make himself look somewhat presentable, but he was pretty sure he looked like crap.
"Blaine?"
He turned quickly, frowning slightly when he saw Rachel.
"Hi… Rachel."
"What are you doing here?"
"Leaving."
"Did you… You've been crying. Oh, you better not have hurt Kurt again, I swear, if you-"
Before Rachel could jump-start her rant, Kurt breezed past her, pushing her back with his forearm.
"Blaine! Wait!"
Before Blaine could register what was happening Kurt jumped into his arms, pressing his lips firmly and fiercely against Blaine's. Rachel watched wide eyed as Kurt's hands held Blaine's face in place, pushing his face harder against Blaine's, pulling his lips back from Blaine's mouth when breathing became a necessity.
"I love you!"
Blaine's eyes fluttered open, gasping a breath.
"Kurt?"
"I love you. I love you and I'm sorry and I forgive you and I need you and you're mine and don't you ever forget that!"
With that, Kurt's lips found Blaine's again. Blaine looked as though he had just been to heaven and back.
Rachel stood there, tapping her foot impatiently, sneering at anybody that dared to stop and watch Kurt and Blaine's sucking the air out of each other.
"So, does this mean the Yuletide is gay again?"
Christmas Day, Sam sat crossed legged, his little sister in his lap, watching amused as she and her brother tore the wrapping paper from their various gifts under the tree. Feeling his pocket vibrating, he reached for his phone, pulling out to read the text message he had received.
The screen read, 'Whatever you want, I don't care how big or how awkward, it's yours. Blaine.'
Smirking knowingly, Sam typed a reply.
'Well, since you're insisting, The Blonde Chameleon could really do with a date.'
Almost instantly, Sam's phone buzzed again, this time it was a message from Kurt.
'Hands off hot-shot, he's taken.'