Okay, so, I re-read this story about a week ago and decided that I'd rather re-write this than leave it how it was—which, quite frankly, was awful. So I re-wrote it and here is the finished product, improved plotline and all. Reviews are always welcome, thanks for reading (:
'I miss you too, Blaine. I know—I'm stopping by later. Then we can get coffee? Yeah... Uh-huh, okay. See you later!' Kurt chirpily hung up the phone. That was his boyfriend, Blaine. His boyfriend. He'd never had a boyfriend before—it was all new and exciting, and everytime Kurt looked at Blaine, he felt his heart pounding in his chest.
Blaine was a student at the all boys boarding school, Dalton Academy. It was a strange and wonderful place, and the Glee club seemed to rule the school. Much the opposite to McKinley then. Kurt had been privileged enough to be a part of that for a while, and it had been.. an experience—to say the least.
It had been a whole two days since they had seen each other—what with Blaine being busy with the Warblers all weekend and Kurt having to move all his stuff back home and, of course, redecorate his room—and to Kurt that seemed like forever.
He walked down the corridor towards his locker, feeling mildly calm despite the previous horrors that school had offered him—Dalton's zero-tolerance bullying policy had kept him completely safe for the past few weeks, however, now all that stood between him and the rotten garbage in the dumpster was Santana and the Bullywhips. Somehow this didn't quite give Kurt the confidence to relax. Santana was a member of the Glee club too, but Karofsky and the rest of the Bullywhips were former bullies. They were the people who had followed him down the corridor shouting abuse at him. They were the people who had prank called his house to laugh at him down the phone. They were the people who called him 'lady' and told him to change who he was.
It seemed almost impossible to trust them.
As Kurt reached his locker, Santana charged towards him, sporting a red jacket and a beret. 'Santana, I'm sorry to inform you, but berets went out of fashion years ago..' Kurt said half-heartedly, opening his locker and glancing sideways at her. 'Yeah, whatever,' She said. Santana never really had been one to exchange pleasantries. 'Now that you're back at McKinley, the Bullywhips and I will be happy enough to provide you with adequate security.' She said it with a sort of dignified nod, eyes flitting over Kurt.
Kurt thought for a minute. He looked up at the picture of Blaine he had hung on the inside of his locker door. Underneath it, an assortment of magazine cuttings read 'Courage'. With a smile, he turned to Santana. 'As kind as your offer is, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I shouldn't have to hide, or be afraid of other people..'
Santana pulled a face. 'Fine, but if you change your mind... See you in Glee...' She turned and walked away. Kurt hummed happily as he thought about his coffee date with Blaine after school, mindlessly watching her leave with a smile. 'Nice to see you too, Santana.' He called after her, and she made a 'thumbs up' gesture above her head without turning around. Grinning, Kurt turned back to his locker, the little picture of Blaine smiling down at him, like some sort of holy saint on a stained glass window.
Stepping into the choir room again, after several months, almost brought Kurt to tears.
He was late to the Glee club meeting, and when he walked in, it was one of those precious moments that you never forget. Mr Schuester was writing on the board, and the rest of the New Directions were all sat in their seats watching him. Kurt stepped in, a delicate apology mumbled under his breath as he gripped onto his bag strap tightly, looking around the room. Thirteen happy faces looked back at him.
'Hey.' He breathed, unable to say much more. Mr Schuester moved away from the board and approached him, gripping him by the shoulders and pulling him into the room. Everything felt so familiar, so right, and yet so different and strange at the same time. His seat was there, right there, right in-between Mercedes and Tina. There was even that lingering smell of sheet music, and Brad, the pianist, sat at the piano, smiling slightly at him.
He was welcomed back by the whole group—with whoops and cheers from several members—and then Mercedes beckoned him to his seat. He pranced up to his spot, perching on his seat and crossing one leg over the other casually. She beamed at him and put an arm around him, squeezing him and then letting go.
Everything settled down and Mr Schuester carried on, running through choreography for a Born This Way number.
As homely as the choir room was, a small part of Kurt started to miss certain things. There was no gavel being furiously pounded into a desk by Wes as he desperately tried to keep the peace. There was no Jeff and Blaine making inappropriate jokes. There was no Trent complaining about the kangaroo court. The chairs weren't as comfy as Dalton and there was that slight hint of mould coming from somewhere.
It was a bittersweet feeling.
As the meeting progressed, he began to re-realise how different the New Directions were to the Warblers. Solos were handed out to the obvious choices on a plate, and everyone else was expected to just dance around in the background. Kurt was given a main solo, and as grateful as he was to finally not have to bitch-off with Rachel, he almost missed having to fight for it. He just wanted to spend those long nights in the Washington Commons, practising his harmony with Wes and David while Blaine casually watched him, chewing on RedVines and smiling at his boyfriend. Everything had changed again.
Pretty soon, they had spent the whole hour of lunch organising their number. The bell rang out and they all said their goodbyes until next time.
Puck ran up to Kurt as he was about to leave with Tina, grinning at him. 'It's great to have you back, dude. We've missed your bow-ties around here..' He pulled Kurt into a hug and then hurried off with Artie, leaving Kurt just slightly confused. Tina beamed at him and he let out a little laugh. She went to ruffle his hair, then rethought it, seeing the 'touch it and I will cut you' look on Kurt's face.
Kurt stood at his locker, rearranging his books and making sure his picture of Blaine was straight, when David Karofsky came around the corner. He sported the same red jacket and beret that Santana had earlier that day. The jacket stretched tight over his large frame and he obviously wasn't pleased with the beret. The history between Kurt and himself was the kind that would make people double take, but maybe now was the time to put it behind them and start afresh.
'Uh, hey.' He muttered, standing just a foot away from Kurt, who trembled slightly upon hearing his voice. 'Hello David.' He replied, keeping the tone sharp but civil. 'Look,' Dave began, quite unexpectedly Kurt had to admit, making him jump just a fraction off of the ground. 'I'm really sorry for the things I did to you, Kurt. Really, I am.'
His eyes pleaded some kind of sorrow with Kurt's, an innocence lost long ago. There was something behind those eyes though—normally Kurt could read people like books, but Karofsky was holding his gaze for what could have been the first time, and he couldn't read a single word.
'I believe you, David—be that as it may, I'd still like you to respect my personal space and to keep your distance.'
David stared at Kurt for a few seconds, until finally settling his mind and affirming their mutual agreement with a nod. It would he much easier for both of them to just keep out of each other's way for a while, at least until Kurt found his feet again. And with that, David turned and walked briskly down the corridor, and away from Kurt, who simply stood where he was.
Lessons dragged by painfully slowly, until the bell finally rang out for the end of the day. As Kurt left his English classroom, Finn approached him.
'Really great to have you back, man. It hasn't been the same around here without you.' He grinned. Kurt blushed. 'I've missed you guys too, it's so good to be back!' Finn patted him on the shoulder and smiled, then walked in the direction of the cafeteria. In his pocket, Kurt's phone buzzed, and he looked away from Finn's shrinking figure to fumble in his pocket for the device. He really had missed his step-brother while he'd been at Dalton—sure he saw Finn most weekends, but it wasn't the same.
How was your first day back? B. Xxx
Kurt smiled, the same smile he gave whenever Blaine crossed his mind.
It's been okay, lessons are definitely a lot less challenging, but it's too quiet round here without the Warblers. And it all seems different to how I remember. I miss you guys.. K. Xxx
Send. He watched the hustle and bustle of people heading home all around him, walking slowly and gracefully amongst them, as if to absorb the essence of McKinley. Soon, he reached the school's main doors and pushed one of them open, stepping out into the warm sunlight. There were a few benches and tables positioned on the grass by the car-park, and he headed for his favourite bench under the old oak tree. everybody else had already headed to the parking lot by now, and as Kurt had taken his time, most people had left campus, and it was quiet and peaceful—no jocks or bullies in sight.
The branches spread out above him, casting long shadows on the ground. This tree had always held some comfort for Kurt. For reasons not quite sure to even him, he found the shade of the broad leaves safe and protecting. They were bright and green and full of life, even though the tree was old and beginning to die. Sitting down on the bench, he placed his bag at his feet and looked at the school, the birds just perched on the edge of the roof reminding him of Pavarotti. Just as he began to feel mournful, his phone began to ring, and he awoke from his daydream with a start.
Incoming Call - Blaine
He stood up—it had become impossible for him to talk on the phone whilst sitting, as he had adopted Blaine's habit of pacing when talking on the phone, a habit he wasn't sure he really wanted to pick up. Then again, Blaine had started to copy Kurt's moisturising routine, and his skin had been softer than a baby lately. He grinned and pressed Answer, keen to hear his boyfriend's soothing voice after a rather confusing and stressful first day back.
'Hey Blaine! What's up?' He chirped.
'Kurt, hey. Where are you?' Blaine asked.
Puzzled, Kurt replied slowly. 'I'm outside school.. Why? Where are you?' Blaine paused for a second, then answered.
'Turn around.'
Kurt turned on his heels and looked towards the school car-park. His boyfriend strolled confidently through the maze of cars, face focused on Kurt's.
Kurt, who still had the phone pressed to his ear, breathed heavily, 'Oh, there you are.'
He hung up and walked a few feet towards Blaine, who was now only moments away. Now stood completely in the shade of that old oak tree, Kurt's heart was beating away furiously, his boyfriend just ever so dapperly charging towards him. Blaine wore his usual Dalton attire, complete with blazer, tie and shined shoes, and Kurt couldn't help but giggle as he saw Blaine's favourite pink sunglasses folded up in his breast pocket. He couldn't resist him in those things.
'Blaine! Wh-what are you doing here?' He squeaked, immediately taking one of Blaine's hands in his own and squeezing it.
Blaine laughed. 'Come on, let's sit down.'
Kurt led him by the hand back to the bench under the shade of the old oak tree, tugging him along behind him and expecting him to be able to keep up with his coffee-fuelled pace. He sat down on the bench, pulling Blaine down with him, and they sat next to each other, Kurt on the left of the bench, and Blaine on the right, legs turned slightly inwards and towards each other. A short silence passed where the two just grinned at each other, before Blaine spoke. 'So, what does it feel like to be home at last?' Kurt shifted a little, unable to meet Blaine's gaze. 'As much as I love being back, I don't think it's really my home anymore...' His voice trailed off as he nibbled at the nail on his left thumb, a habit of his when he didn't really want to talk about something.
Blaine tried to work out what was happening—Kurt had spent the past three or four months wishing nothing more than to be back at McKinley, where he truly belonged, and now he was saying it wasn't home anymore. 'Is it Karofsky?' His voice was suddenly protective, and in the few seconds that Kurt took to even acknowledge the question, Blaine had started to fume. 'It is, isn't it? What's he said now? I'll get him this time, I actually will. I'm sick of the games, Kurt. I'm going to stop him, even if I have to-'
Kurt—rolling his eyes—cut him short with a slap across the back of his head.
'What was that for!' He cried out, hand raising to rub the now slightly raised bump on the back of his head. He pulled a face and looked to Kurt, who was trying to conceal a smile. 'Actually, no—it's not David. Although, I think.. Well, he's changed, I don't know how and I don't know why, but something's different about that boy.' Kurt said, with a faraway look, staring absent-mindedly at the window to the choir room, where Rachel stood trying to improve her already over-average vocal range.
'Are you sure? Cause if he bothers you, Kurt, I'll tell him where to-'
Kurt cut Blaine off once more with a stern look, and his boyfriend went back to silently rubbing his head. He'd fight for Kurt, he'd always fight for Kurt, but if Kurt told him to back down, he'd back down too.
'So,' Kurt broke the silence. 'I bet you guys are just falling apart without me.' He said it sarcastically, of course, but he added a smug little grin for effect. Blaine sort of nodded, grimacing as his fingers smoothed over the bump. 'You could say so—Wes and David have never looked so lost, and let's not even start on Trent.' Kurt chuckled, imagining mayhem back at the Washington dorms, images of the Warblers walking around like lost puppies, unsure of what to do without Kurt's chocolate chip cookies and his killer counter-tenor vocal range. And Trent, who became easily attached, would he even want to get out of bed anymore?
Kurt's smile faltered as he thought of the friends that he had left behind—there was never a way to be in both worlds, it was always one or the other. It was literally like being ripped from one side to the other every so often.
'It just.. Doesn't feel like home anymore, Blaine.' His shoulders drooped and his head hung low, eyes to the ground and nail once again raised to his lips. He wasn't sure when, but he must have let go of Blaine's hand, because now his boyfriend's arm was around his shoulder and pulling him close, fingers playfully and rhythmically tapping his shoulder.
'Why?' Blaine often forgot that sometimes it was better to not ask questions, and didn't catch himself in time. He immediately looked away and mumbled an apology.
Kurt saw Blaine's instant panic and placed a hand on his cheek, turning Blaine's head to face him again. His eyes flickered around, just to ensure that there was nobody around who would make anything of the couple. He quickly placed a shy kiss to Blaine's lips, eyes fluttering closed for the split second that their lips had contact. Blaine barely even had time to react, eyes widening and closing within a fraction of a second, before they parted and he was left with just a smile. The pair watched each other, both pairs of heartbeats elevated and smiles between them.
'Come on, let's get some coffee.' Blaine grinned.
The week dragged by unbelievably slowly—Blaine couldn't find any more time to leave Dalton during the week, and the New Directions spent every rehearsal talking about their Born This Way number. Eventually, Friday rolled around, and Kurt found himself standing backstage in the auditorium, huddled with the rest of the New Directions and waiting for Mr Schuester to arrive.
They'd all made personalised t-shirts for the performance, each with their own word or phrase that they thought described them best. Kurt had 'LIKES BOYS' proudly written across his chest, and it was great to see everyone finally happy with the one thing that would normally hinder them. Mr Schuester turned up and displayed his t-shirt—'BUTT CHIN'—and pretty soon the music started up and everyone took their places.
Kurt took his spot centre-stage and looked out into the empty seats. At least, he thought they were empty, but through the bright rays of light, he could make out a group of extremely distinct figures—it was easy to pick them apart, as if he'd known them all his life. They were some of his best friends, they were The Warblers.
Blaine sat in-between Wes and Trent, with David next to Wes and Jeff on the other side. The other Warblers sat in a general rabble, and Kurt grinned at the group. Wes wolf-whistled at him and Blaine flapped at him and told him to shush. Kurt couldn't help but giggle—then he remembered he was meant to sing. In his panic, he looked across to Mercedes and Tina from where they stood at the side of the stage, and they grinned at him. Shrugging, Kurt sung his part and carried out the performance, a smile plastered onto his face all throughout.
After they had finished—Mr Schuester had actually joined them on-stage in the end—the Warblers burst into rounds of applause. The group all sprinted down the aisle and leaped up onto the stage, joining the New Directions and instantly becoming one giant mess of people. In the confusion, Blaine tripped over Kurt's foot, without realising it was Kurt, and fell flat on his face. Laughing, Kurt pulled him up and into a hug. Wes and David noticed the pair, and beckoned everybody else over. Within seconds, everybody on-stage was involved in a giant group hug, Kurt and Blaine right in the middle of it, pressed closely together and smiling right into each other's eyes.
'Welcome home.' Blaine grinned.