This is something I've been playing around with for a while, and have only just now found the motivation to post. I'll warn you now that it's not exactly going to be a rainbows and bunnies story, but the copious amounts of angst shall be balanced out with sporadic moments of fluff. Anywayyy, I hope you stick around.
And to the person who read this first, thank you.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I hoped you'd see my face and that'd you be reminded,
That for me, it isn't over.
- Someone Like You by Adele.
Kurt felt a little faint as he sat in the back of the taxi cab, his heart thumping so hard it almost hurt. The speed of it increased with every identical, immaculate looking town house they passed. He tried to distract himself from his panic by concentrating firmly on the numbers painted on to each of the doors.
"Here, please," he called over to the driver. The taxi slowed down to a halt, it's engine purring like a panther on the side walk as Kurt slipped out and up the path of number fourteen.
His first impressions of Blaine's house was that it was quaint. Maybe not what Kurt had been expecting, but lovely all of the same. The garden was impeccably pruned, the white bricks almost gleaming in the sun, and Kurt assumed that Blaine must have hired a gardener, because he knew that Blaine would never be able to keep up with tidiness like that.
Kurt knocked on the door, his knuckles feeble against the wood, almost as though he was hoping that his knock would go unheard. Kurt waited, feeling his nerve melt away with every passing second. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his mouth growing horribly dry. Then the door opened and Kurt let out a gasp that fell somewhere between a choke and a yelp.
Blaine almost keeled over on to the doorstep. He looked Kurt up and down. Kurt wondered if Blaine was noticing how thin and pale he was, the deep purple smudged beneath his eyes. Kurt had always been so particular when they had been together, nowadays he just couldn't muster the effort. After a while of his Kurt began to feel as if he was being blinded by a spotlight. Blaine's eyes glowed bright and hazel, warm but alarmed.
You have such pretty eyes.
Kurt could almost see Blaine's charm flickering inside of him like a worn out lightbulb. He could tell from Blaine's expression that he was desperately trying to think of the right way to react.
Though in fairness Kurt felt just as agonized in return. "Is this a bad time?"
"Not at all," Blaine assured him.
Kurt licked his dry lips. Never one for dallying around for long, he said, "Well, do I get to come in then?"
After a nod from Blaine, Kurt managed a polite smile and let himself in to the hall. Blaine remained stood at the door for a little while longer, staring out in front of him blankly. Out of the corner of his eye Kurt saw Blaine turn, and knew he was being watched again. He tried to ignore this as he delicately pottered around Blaine's house, picking up ornaments and running his long fingers over surfaces.
"I love what you've done with the place," Kurt claimed, though it was killing him not to point out that the wicker chair in the corner didn't match the rest of the furniture. Still, the place was the very definition of the word "home".
Blaine scratched at the back of his neck.
"Thanks," he said, trying to calm down and act half-normal. They'd been in a six year relationship, after all. Well over any stage of awkwardness, one would think. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Oh no, thanks. You won't believe how much coffee I've had over the past few days, all of that travelling..." Kurt hesitated. "Actually, would you mind if I used your bathroom?"
"Not at all. Its straight up those stairs, first door you come to," Blaine explained.
Upstairs and alone in the confinements of the bathroom, Kurt closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and willed himself to calm down.
Blaine's face swam before his eyes. Kurt had braced himself for a change in Blaine; it had been twelve years after all. And Blaine did look good. No, gorgeous. He always had been. Age had carried him gracefully, and judging by the scruff of beard, the thick rimmed black glasses, and the slight pouch around his middle, Blaine was content.
When Kurt returned back downstairs, he found Blaine still waiting for him in the hall. There was a moment of awkward silence. On the hall table beside him, Kurt noticed a small cluster of photograph frames. He glanced over at them - and his heart catapulted in to his throat. Who the hell was that man in the suit, kissing his Blaine? No, not his Blaine. Blaine hadn't been his in years.
Still, the photo was unmistakably a wedding shot, and it made Kurt's heart race all over again.
"You got married?" Kurt said. He tried to sound light, casual, but instead he simply felt at a loosing whim.
"Yeah... eight years this June." There was a sense of small pride in Blaine's voice.
"He's handsome." Kurt placed the frame back in its place.
"His name is Tyler," Blaine added.
"Tyler," Kurt repeated the word for no indecipherable purpose. He felt as if he were clinging on to an anchor, whilst dark, choppy waves dragged him downwards. He could have choked on his own despair.
Blaine had disappeared through a door to the left of them. He reappeared clutching a silver photo frame. Passing it over to Kurt, he said, "There he is with the kids."
The kids. Kurt felt the anchor slip from his grasp. He forced himself to stare down at the photo out of politeness and a strong will not to burst in to sobs.
Tyler had changed a bit since the wedding day; he was still tall and blond, but his hair was thinning a little, and there were deep crows feet circling his wide eyes. Despite all of this Kurt only had to take a glance to know that Tyler could have qualified as the happiest man in the world. He was stood on a sun dappled pavement, a small dark haired girl in his arms and a boy with a wide smile that revealed a missing front tooth stood at his side. Both children had Blaine's blazing hazel eyes.
"That's Elliott, he's eight. And Kit, she's six in September." There was no mistaking the pride and love in Blaine's voice this time.
"They're beautiful," Kurt exclaimed in a thick voice. "They have your eyes."
"We used a surrogate. Tyler's sister, actually," Blaine explained.
Without quite meaning to, Kurt dropped the photo frame on to the table beside him where it clattered and threatened to topple on to the spotless carpet. Blaine clutched it just in time.
"Whoa," he said.
"Whoa, you might want to slow down."
Kurt sniffed, turning away as he felt the first tear slide down his cheek. So this was it. This was Blaine's life; a home, a husband, two gorgeous children. All Kurt really had was his job. He worked hard, and he knew that it was the cause for his loneliness, but up until that moment it had never really bothered him. He felt Blaine's hand close in on his elbow a moment later, and had to bite his lip not to cry out loud.
"Hey, are you okay?" Blaine's voice was so soft that Kurt could have sunk in to it, and in that moment he wanted wallow in the comfort and familiarity of that voice, to blurt everything out, but pace was the key here.
"'M fine," Kurt insisted. He swallowed. "I've just been a little under the weather recently."
"You work too hard," Blaine said.
Kurt laughed. "I suppose. Hey, what do you do now?" He turned, glad for a change in the conversation.
"Oh, I'm a journalist," Blaine revealed.
Finally Kurt could wear a smile that was genuine. "I knew you'd make it. I'm so pr-" He stopped himself. There was no need to get all heavy and praising just yet. He didn't want to get carried away.
Blaine paused. "Listen... I know you said you aren't in the mood for coffee, but there's this great little place just around the corner. If you wait while I grab a coat we could be there in five minutes."
Kurt eventually nodded.
"Let me get my coat," Blaine repeated. He broke in to a run down the hall, shouting behind him as we went, "Don't leave!"
Kurt leaned against the wall, exhaling heavily. He stared again at the photographs lining the table. What had he been thinking, arriving here and disturbing the peace? Kurt wasn't exactly sure what he had been hoping to find, but he knew that this wasn't it. Time had moved them both along, and there was no place for them beside each other anymore.
By the time Blaine returned Kurt had already resolved to make the coffee last no more than two cups, and had fabricated a whole host of excuses to leave should he need them.
Kurt Hummel first met Blaine Anderson in the summer of 2010, and they had both been wasted.
At the time Kurt attended McKinley High, where he was a member of the schools Glee club. Another member, Noah Puckerman, Mohawk wearer and best friend of Kurt's "brother" Finn, was throwing a garden party whilst his parents were away on a weekend break. The whole Glee club were there, as were the football team, the cheerleaders, and a few other stragglers from McKinley's halls.
Also in attendance were the Dalton Warblers. Dalton Academy was an all boys school over in Westerville, and the Warblers was the name of their Glee club, who just so happened to have absolutely pounded the New Directions at their latest competition. Never the less both clubs had somehow struck up an alliance, and so it was that Kurt found himself stumbling in to Blaine on his way the bathroom.
"Whoa," Blaine cried. "You might want to slow down." He smiled at Kurt kindly, clutching on to his shoulders to keep the older boy steady. Kurt simply gawped.
"You have such pretty eyes," Kurt had sighed. His drunkenness assured him all the while that this was a perfectly acceptable thing to say to a stranger.
Blaine had laughed shyly, his eyes casting downwards. When he looked back up he said, "Screw slowing down. What do you say we both grab another beer?"
"Vodka and cranberry juice," Kurt had corrected him.
Blaine wound an arm around Kurt's waist, propelling him from the noisy garden in to the quiet, slightly cooler kitchen. Kurt tried his best to keep his steps in line, finding that his vision was improved if he just squeezed his left eye closed. Whilst in the kitchen he leaned back against one of the counters, watching as Blaine clumsily collected a beer for himself and began on Kurt's Vodka. As he bended to go in to the fridge Kurt discreetly appreciated the soft curve of Blaine's ass in his jeans.
"Here you go," Blaine said cheerfully, sliding a glass across to Kurt.
Kurt took one gulp, observed Blaine coyly, and, despite all that could go wrong, lunged. Blaine went flying back in to the fridge, his head thumping against it and his beer bottle shattering against the ground. However he soon found his tongue jammed so far down Kurt Hummel's throat that neither of them could find the heart to care. It was a messy, wet kiss, all teeth clanking and hands tugging.
"I don't usually do this," Kurt panted as Blaine began sucking a bruise in to the exposed skin of his shoulder.
"Neither do I," Blaine confessed.
"Did I just hear a bot- whoa, whoa, whoa. Kurt buddy, you can not be doing that."
Kurt whined as he felt Noah Puckerman's hand grip his shoulder, tugging him away from who, for the past few minutes, Kurt had convinced himself was the love of his life.
"Kurt. Nice name." Blaine wiped his swollen lips with his sleeve.
Puck raised an eyebrow. "Kurt, do you know who this is?"
Kurt sighed once more, resting his head against Puck's shoulder to close his eyes. All of that kissing mixed with the Vodka really had took the breath out of him. "No," he admitted. "But he has pretty eyes."
"I think we should take you to lie down upstairs," Noah said in concern.
"Does he get to come?" Kurt asked, giggling.
Blaine laughed shyly again, brushing his fingers through his heavily gelled hair with some difficulty. "I think your friend is right. We've had way too much fun for two in the afternoon."
He shared a look of acknowledgement with Puck before wandering off in the glare of sun pouring through the open door. Puck began to drag Kurt away from the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Oh God Puck, I can't see," Kurt moaned.
Puck bit back a laugh. Once inside the guest bedroom he helped Kurt, who had flopped at once on to the bed, with his shoes, which were specked with beer, before closing the curtains and dimming the lights. Kurt continued to groan.
"Don't tell Finn about this. Ever," he pleaded.
"Your secrets safe with me, stud." Puck turned around and left the room.
Kurt rolled over on to his side, hugging a pillow against his chest. He wished he had caught the boys name so that he could mumble it before drifting off in to a heavy sleep.
They didn't talk on the way to the coffee shop. Blaine walked with his hands buried deep in his pockets whilst Kurt tried to fight away the cough that was tickling at his throat. He'd have a cold by the next morning, he was sure. It really wasn't that cold for early March but then Kurt supposed his immune system had been a little weak recently.
Blaine held the door open for him, and the aroma of warm coffee was as comforting to Kurt as a hug. There weren't many people inside, mainly students with laptops and business men on cell phones. Blaine walked confidently up to the counter where the barista smiled in a way that insinuated she already knew him.
"Hey Blaine," she said brightly. "No Tyler today?"
Kurt's head snapped sideways as he turned to face Blaine. Hadn't coffee always been there thing? Blaine wouldn't meet his gaze. He smiled back at the barista, who's name tag read Chloe, and simply said, "He's visiting his mother with the kids. Can I get a medium drip and a grande non-fat mocha?"
Kurt's intial pain was immediately soothed; after all of these years Blaine had remembered his coffee order.
"Sure. Who's your friend?" Chloe asked conversationally as she began the coffees.
Blaine looked at Kurt with slight alarm, as if he had realised that he had no real idea of who Kurt was. "Uh, just an old school friend. Catching up." He smiled queasily.
Chloe fixed their orders, Blaine paid, and with a quick goodbye lead them both to table at the back of the shop. Kurt glared slightly. "Why didn't you just tell her who I am?" he demanded to know.
Blaine looked puzzled. "What, that you're an ex-boyfriend?" He sipped his drink. "Why would I go in to all of that?"
Kurt looked down at the scratched surface of the table. "I thought I'd mean more to you than just an old school friend."
Blaine sighed. "You do. It's just... this is a small town, gossip spreads fast. If Chloe happened to mention to the wrong person that I was having coffee with some stranger, this could turn in to something it's not."
"And what is this, exactly?" Kurt snapped. He knew he was being unreasonable, if perhaps a little dramatic, but all of the pent up emotion was fit to explode and the only way to escape a breakdown was to fight everything around him. Even if that included Blaine.
"You tell me." Blaine's tone met his with the same waspish air.
Kurt concentrated on his coffee. Go back, he said to himself, go back.