Five Times Kurt Didn't Say Goodbye

... And One Time He Did


-1-

Summer 2012

...

"I have to go," Kurt murmured against Blaine's lips, smiling when he felt his boyfriend's arms tighten around him.

"Mmhmm."

Blaine pressed another kiss to Kurt's mouth before moving down to kiss his chin, his neck, along the line of his collarbone where the two undone buttons of his shirt revealed a slice of smooth, soft skin. Kurt swallowed noisily at the feel of Blaine's rough cheek rubbing against him and lifted a hand to stroke through his hair, gripping the clumps still held together with gel from last night's date.

It was a rare treat that Blaine had been allowed to stay overnight, even if Burt had feigned ignorance of the whole situation, keeping his thoughts to himself as he'd wished Kurt a stiff "Goodnight," only glancing away from the TV for a second.

Obviously, with a house full of people very much in the know, Kurt and Blaine hadn't really planned on doing anything, and Kurt had been glad simply for the opportunity to curl up with Blaine under the covers one last time. However, their plans (or lack thereof) had fallen apart as they'd spent the night sharing warmth, trading the heat of their last Ohio summer back and forth with messy kisses and breathy chuckles, until they'd given up on all pretence and thrown back the sheets, Kurt rolling up to hover above Blaine as their shirts were stripped off too. Everything had built up, accumulating in stifled moans and whispers that weren't nearly enough to abate the pressure until it all erupted in a chaotic rush, as the couple tried to do and say everything before it was too late.

Blaine had whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you," against Kurt's throat and his chest and his stomach, eliciting strangled noises and swallowing them down, drinking them in like icy lemonade under a scorching sun, like he couldn't ever get enough of them. And Kurt had given all that he could in return, his words growing more and more uncensored – dirtier and rawer and truer – as Blaine kept pulling him closer and tangling them up in each other, making them one complex creature of bent arms and aching legs and arching spines.

At least, until Finn had hammered on the wall that separated his bedroom from Kurt's, yelling, "Okay, I need you two to stop right now or I'll seriously puke." That had put an effective stop to Kurt and Blaine's prolonged farewell, making them both dissolve into giggles, vibrating against each other and savouring it, slowing right down until it was not so much sensuous as it was lazy, sleepy; the perfect lullaby to play as they drifted off to sleep.

And then they'd both awoken, and Kurt had watched Blaine doze for a while, wondering how long it would be before he could do this again. New York was his dream, absolutely – there was still no question in his mind about that – but Blaine... Blaine was a dream too. One that Kurt hadn't realised how much he'd wanted until he'd gotten it and wow. Yes. Blaine was certainly a dream come true.

Still: New York. New York, New York, New York. The one thing that Kurt had always wanted, the thing he'd been working towards for as long as he could remember. And now he was so close to getting it that it almost hurt. He'd kept that in mind as he'd dressed and done his hair and eaten his breakfast and tried his hardest not to think of what he was leaving behind. It had worked too – focussing on Broadway and musicals and performing for the rest of his life – at least until they'd gone back to his room and Blaine had gotten his arms around Kurt's waist and tugged him back over to the bed, laughing at how easily his boyfriend's resolve was shattered.

Kurt was embarrassed, to be honest, about how weak he was as he tried to fight against this. All he had to do was pull away from Blaine – from the addictive feel of his lips and tongue and fingers stroking over skin, too hot, too much to handle, but so, so right – and yet right now stopping seemed utterly impossible.

"I have to go," he said again, this time with even less conviction.

"Then go," Blaine dared him, his breath stuttering as he laughed, mouth now tickling Kurt's shoulder as his hand tugged the collar of his shirt further open.

"No, Blaine, I really have to go. I'll miss my flight."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Blaine was grinning as he pulled back a little, staring at down at Kurt for a second before diving in again, kissing him so hard and intense and real that it made both of them gasp and struggle to somehow be closer.

Kurt could feel that this kiss really was goodbye. As much as Blaine loved to joke and pretend to detain him, Kurt though he sensed that soon he would have to let go. After all, Blaine knew what this meant to Kurt, knew how important it was for him to make this trip now and make it on his own. But that didn't stop them both from wanting to hold on for just a little bit longer, kiss just a little harder, try to stay here for just one more moment, even if they knew it wasn't what either of them really wanted.

Too soon – always, always too soon – Blaine pulled back, and his eyes were glassy as he stared down at his boyfriend. Kurt wondered what emotions were hidden behind that gaze, wondered what words Blaine was fighting with everything he had to hold at bay.

But Blaine stayed silent and Kurt was grateful for it, able to feel the tears prickling in his own eyes as he rolled off the bed, sighing deeply before he stood to straighten his collar, re-button his shirt and give himself an appraising look in the mirror. His hair was not exactly perfect. And his shirt was creased. And his pants were, well, tighter than they probably should've been. Yet, far from trying to fix the air of slight dishevelment that Kurt knew he exuded, he smiled a little at his own reflection. He wouldn't have a chance to look like this again for another year. There was no way he was going to hide it away today.

Turning around to face his boyfriend, still splayed on the bed, Kurt tried one more time to commit Blaine to his memory. He was lying on his stomach, having collapsed there once Kurt had wriggled away, and nothing about him seemed an iota less than perfect. All the way from his patchy head of hair – still gelled in places and beginning to curl in others – to his bare feet, Blaine was unbelievably beautiful. So much that it made Kurt ache to think that he wouldn't get to be right here ever again.

"I love you," Kurt told Blaine's back, watching as the words made his shoulders shift and the tension drain out.

"I love you too," Blaine said into Kurt's pillow, the words muffled but sure. "So, so much."

Kurt bit his lip, glancing at the clock on the wall. He really had to go.

"Do I get to see your face again before I leave?" he asked, forcing himself to take step closer to his bedroom door, away from the bed.

Blaine laughed into the pillow, but the sound was off and accompanied by a strange sort of jerk in his body that he was clearly trying to suppress. With a start, Kurt realised that his boyfriend was crying, and the reason he wouldn't turn over was that he didn't want Kurt to see it.

"Well, I guess I have photos to look at," Kurt teased, aiming for light-hearted but falling short as Blaine's shoulders shook again. "And we're scheduled for a Skype date tomorrow night – no excuses, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine replied.

They were both silent, and Kurt heard the sound of the car starting downstairs – a signal from his Dad that it was time to leave.

"Well. I'm going now."

"Goodbye," Blaine murmured.

"I'll see you soon," Kurt promised in return.

And then Blaine sobbed again and it just wasn't fair that some stupid law of the universe dictated that Kurt couldn't move any closer, because damn it his boyfriend was hurting and it was his fault and if he didn't have the right to comfort him then-

Unexpectedly, Blaine turned his head to look over at Kurt, face stained with tears but eyes sparkling with what could almost have been laughter.

"Right," he said, lips curving into a reluctant half-smile, "I forgot that you promised never to say goodbye to me."

"Never," Kurt assured him, and maybe the word was another promise or maybe it was something more like a vow, but whatever it was, it was so intensely true that it almost scared Kurt, knowing that that type of honesty and certainty about his future was possible when his life was only just beginning.

But, he supposed, this wasn't going to change. Not at all. How he felt about Blaine, what he wanted them to be – that was never going to be any different. Not in a year, and not in fifty. What felt like a millennium ago, in a packed high school courtyard that had felt empty at the time, Kurt had sworn to be with Blaine indefinitely, infinitely. Now, he meant it more than ever.

"We'll be fine," he said aloud. "Nothing's going to change."

Blaine smiled back at him, looking sadder and more wrecked and more incredible than ever before.

"I know," he nodded.

The car horn beeped loudly in the driveway, and Kurt heard yells from Finn and Carole, who were waiting outside. He heaved a sigh and touched a nervous hand to his hair, then to his pocket, where the small wrapped package that Blaine had given him was pressing against his hip. Kurt let his eyes wander over his room one last time, and then settled his gaze back on the gorgeous boy still staring up at him from his bed.

"Goodbye, Kurt," Blaine said again.

"I love you," Kurt replied.

And he turned around and left, abandoning Blaine to mourn the departure in Kurt's old bedroom, letting his own tears begin to fall the moment he was out of sight. In the driveway, Finn and Carole hugged Kurt before he got into the car with his Dad, who wordlessly handed him a box of tissues. The gesture reminded him too much of too many other moments like this – of leaving McKinley and leaving Dalton and the leaving leaving McKinley again, of Junior Prom, and of fights that had been so scary at the time but now felt like nothing but tiny blips, barely marring his and Blaine's perfect year – and he shook his head, curling his fingers over his pocket once more. Burt touched a comforting palm to his son's shoulder before reversing onto the street, both sparing a look back at the house as they drove away.

"You all right, kiddo?" Burt eventually asked, when the tears had subsided somewhat.

"I'll be fine."

"Sure you don't want a tissue?"

Kurt shook his head, "No, thanks. They-"

He broke off, pressing on his pocket once more. Burt glanced over as Kurt pulled out Blaine's present with its plain gold wrapping paper and a tiny white ribbon. Ignoring his father's stare, Kurt flipped over the package and carefully unwrapped it, tucking the ribbon and paper back into his pocket as they fell away to reveal a packet of tissues. Unable to hold in a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh, Kurt opened it pulled out a tissue to press to his face, dabbing away the lingering tears.

"I think something fell out," Burt said suddenly, nodding at Kurt's lap as they pulled up at a set of traffic lights.

Kurt picked up the piece of paper that had been tucked inside the tissue packet, unfolding it and smiling at Blaine's messy writing.

Since I won't be there to wipe away your tears, here's hoping that these will do the job. (And I guess you could use them to wipe away other stuff that I usually help clean up too, if you get my drift...)
Love, Blaine

Silently, Kurt refolded the note, pressing it hard into his palm for a moment before also stowing it in his pocket.

"I'll be fine," he repeated, looking back over at his Dad.

This time, they both believed it.