Chapter 3 – How To Calm One's Nerves

Kurt couldn't sleep. That wasn't unusual. He had practically been an insomniac for the last four months. That night as he lay awake in the penthouse of the Astoria, all his worries started to pile up again. On top of it now sat Blaine, whose surname he didn't even know yet, and who was lying in the next room beside a balcony with an impressive drop and who was waiting for Kurt to deliver on his promise of fixing his life before his birthday party in two weeks or else he'd attempt to kill himself again.

Feeling sick at the prospect, Kurt got out of bed and checked on him again.

The TV was muted and the program flickered through the room. Kurt could see Blaine's chest lifting up and down. This time Kurt didn't allow himself to stop and stare and quickly moved past him into the little kitchenette around the corner. All he could think of to quiet his mind was helping himself to a cup of camomile tea, so he flicked on the kettle and waited for the water to boil.

"Can't sleep?"

Kurt let out an embarrassing yelp and whipped around to find Blaine casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his nicely formed biceps showing.

"I'm sorry," Blaine grimaced apologetically for startling Kurt.

"Do you always sneak up on people?" Kurt spread his fingers over his chest and tried to still his pounding heart. He took in the sight of Blaine, standing only in his boxer briefs before him, barefeet on the carpet.

"Sorry, next time I try to stomp around the place," Blaine said with a grin. For a moment they just listened to the kettle hissing and looked at each other. Kurt noticed the way Blaine adjusted his arms to hide his nipples from view, or maybe he was just imagining things.

Kurt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, growing nervous under Blaine's intense stare. He turned towards the cupboard and retrieved two mugs. "Do you care for tea?"

"Have you even tried to sleep?" Blaine asked, motioning towards Kurt who was still fully clothed except for his shoes.

"Obviously I didn't bring my pajamas," Kurt explained, and glancing over his shoulders he added, "And I'm not sleeping in the nude like some people."

"Hey, whom do you call naked? I'm wearing boxer shorts, as you can see." Blaine pointed with both hands towards his crotch. Kurt gaped at him, not sure if Blaine acted hot and stupid on purpose or if he was indeed clueless about the effect his body had on others, because Kurt was sure anybody would like to take Blaine up on such an obvious invite to drool all over him. He quickly busied himself pouring the hot water and turned his back on Blaine to hide his blush. "Boxer briefs you mean," he corrected.

"Well, I didn't bring my pajamas, either," Blaine murmured in a pout.

"I understand," Kurt replied, remembering the roses and bottle of champagne on the bed. "If the night had gone as planned, you wouldn't have needed them."

"Yeah, well," Blaine said, suddenly sounding uncertain.

Kurt took both mugs of tea and made to carry them into the living room. Blaine followed him to the couch and snagged his T-shirt from the floor to put it back on.

Kurt set the mugs down on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite of Blaine's.

"So I guess we should make use of our insomnia. Why don't you start telling me about you?" Kurt suggested. "I need to get to know you to be able to... help you."

"Can I ask you something first?" Blaine sat on his make-shift bed and covered his legs with the blanket. Kurt was grateful for the cover, so he wouldn't be tempted to stare at Blaine.

"Yes, of course."

For a moment Blaine just stared at him, squinting his eyes and opening and closing his mouth like a fish as if not sure how to phrase his question. Kurt waited patiently and tilted his head. "You can ask me anything," he finally offered to get Blaine to speak.

Blaine scrunched up his face and licked his lips. "It's kind of personal," he said, apologizing in advance.

Kurt smiled gently. "I don't mind."

Blaine lifted a hand to scratch his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Are you gay?"

Kurt blushed at this direct question. He wasn't ashamed or anything. But the question felt like an accusiation, like he had just followed Blaine to somehow take advantage of him. Although he still felt guilty about staring at him through the gap in the door, he wasn't going to get defensive now.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Blaine seemed to ponder this and the stretching silence drove Kurt nuts. "Is that a problem for you?"

"No," Blaine said, sitting up. "I was just wondering-"

"Wondering what?" Kurt prompted.

"What's it like being a young gay man in New York these days?"

Kurt couldn't tell if the question was genuine or if he just wanted to hear some dirty gossip. Anyhow, the question was general enough for Kurt to give a general answer.

"It's okay. There are enough gay clubs and places one can go, but you can also go to regular clubs, because, you know, straight people don't mind mixing with the gays anymore. It's pretty much relaxed."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Kurt opened his mouth. Now the questions turned extremely personal. "I don't think my personal life is much interesting to you. Besides, we're here to talk about you."

"Well, excuse me, but I'd like to get to know the person who wants to change my life."

"Fair enough," Kurt finally said with a sigh. He pulled his feet up on the couch and tried to get more comfortable. He wasn't used to being interrogated about his personal life. "I don't have a boyfriend. But don't worry. I don't jump straight men."

Blaine kept a poker face, not letting on what he was thinking about his new gay aquaintance. "Have you ever tried not being gay?"

Kurt's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, do you think it's possible to suppress the urge to, you know, be attracted to men?" Blaine asked. He seemed a bit awkward about phrasing the question, but the interest on the topic was genuine enough. It annoyed Kurt. He had dealt with a lot of homophobic jerks in his life time and he despised the ones who expected a scientific explanation on how gayness worked.

"Being gay isn't something you can turn on and off," Kurt explained with a snort. "It's not a choice of lifestyle, if that's what you're asking."

"No, that's not what I'm asking," Blaine replied, shaking his head.

Kurt grew irritated. He didn't understand why Blaine insisted on talking about his sexuality at two in the morning.

"I just thought maybe there was some sort of meditation or something to trick yourself into thinking that you weren't gay."

"Why would I want to do that?" Kurt asked, blinking in irritation.

"Just a thought," Blaine shrugged. "I imagine there are a lot of gay people out there that wish they weren't."

"You know, I think you shouldn't bother yourself with other people's problems," Kurt said, trying to keep his irritation out of his voice. "That's just deflection. You try to solve other people's problems and in the meantime avoid your own."

"I'm no good at solving anyone's problems, including my own." Blaine let out another humorless laugh. "I'm absolutely useless."

Kurt let out a sympathetic sigh. "I know the feeling very well, believe me," Kurt admitted. "There are a lot of situations that one can't handle or that are way over one's head. That's when you need to ask for help. It's hard, I know it. I like to be independent, too, but no one expects you to cope with everything on your own."

"I'm sick of advisers and consultants and, God beware, therapists," Blaine grumbled. "They don't want to help me, they all just want to get a piece of the cake."

"Just so you know it, I don't want anything from you," Kurt opened his arms and held his palms up. "I just want to make sure you're okay. I didn't get you off that bridge just to read in the papers tomorrow that you jumped off somewhere else."

"Just because you embraced me doesn't mean you need to feel responsible for me."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Embraced you?"

"On the bridge. The way you held me to keep me from- falling. Do you always get so close to strangers? Is it because you're gay?"

"No, I usually don't get that close to anyone," Kurt said, growing annoyed with the gay thing. "I don't even like hugs from my best friend. And I wasn't going to feel you up if that's what you're indicating. Homophobic much?"

"I'm not homophobic," Blaine instantly rejected the idea. "I'm just trying to figure you out, all right? You're a stranger in my home. For all I know you could knock me out while I sleep and run away with the silverware."

"This is a hotel room, not a home," Kurt retorted. "And you're the one trying to kill yourself, so why would you be afraid to be murdered? Besides, out of the two of us, you're obviously the one who goes to the gym. I'm sure you can protect yourself just fine."

"Not if you strangled me in my sleep." Blaine grinned at him. "I bet a man like you is very resourceful."

Kurt looked away quickly to avoid continuing to stare at Blaine's arms. He felt like Blaine was making fun of him. It was hard not taking it personally.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why my being gay is so interesting to you," he snapped, but the moment the words left his mouth, he was struck by a realization. Incredulously, Kurt arched his brows at Blaine. "Wait, are you-?"

All of a sudden, Blaine got angry. "I was just being polite by showing some interest in you."

Kurt clutched his hands. He felt very stupid for assuming Blaine might be a closeted case. Here he was letting his wishful thinking take over again. This wasn't a fairy tale and he hadn't rescued a handsome prince who would ask for his hand in marriage. Where wishes and prayers were concerned Kurt knew those didn't work.

Blaine got up and marched over to the minibar to fetch himself a glass of something stronger than camomile tea. For a second Kurt was distracted by the sight of his perfect calves, but then he shook his head to gather his senses. "Please, don't," Kurt got up, too, before he could stop himself. "Alcohol's never a good idea and you've had enough already."

"I'm not an alcoholic, if that's what you think," Blaine grumbled. "But as you can imagine I'm a little on edge lately and I need something to calm my nerves."

"All right, but no alcohol, please," Kurt said. "I know something else."

He got up to fetch his coat and Blaine's eyes got round as he watched him retrieve a little package from the inside pocket.

"Woah, if that's drugs I'm going to stop you right there," Blaine raised his hands demonstratively. "I don't want to have anything to do with it."

"Drugs? Really?" Kurt laughed. "You think I decline alcohol but do drugs?"

Kurt tossed the small package at Blaine and he caught it with one hand. He let out a chuckle and ran a hand down his face as he recognized it.

"A deck of cards?" Blaine was grinning again, and Kurt found that he grew to enjoy that cheeky smirk. It made Blaine look way younger than he was. "You just carry them around with you?"

"They're like a talisman," Kurt explained with a shrug.

"You must like playing quite a lot."

"It's a habit I took over from my-" Kurt's voice hitched and he cleared his throat to be able to go on. "My dad. He taught me to play. It started as a nervous habit, you know, shuffling cards just to occupy the hands. I found that focusing on a game helps me a lot to forget other stuff for the moment."

"Sounds like you have a good relationship to your old man," Blaine observed. He got the cards out of their paper box and looked the cards over. They were worn and old, like they had been used a lot.

"All right. Let's play." Blaine sat down in front of the fire, their only light source.

"On the floor?" Kurt asked, staring at the way Blaine sat Indian style.

"Why not?"

Kurt slowly dropped on the floor opposite of Blaine. It was warm next to the fire and on the thick carpet. He rolled up his sleeves and watched Blaine shuffle and share out the cards. Once again he couldn't help himself staring at Blaine's face, the young man was dreamily beautiful in the flickering light of the fire.

This whole night felt like a dream to Kurt. Only a few hours ago instead of claiming a life the East River had offered the opportunity to save one. No matter how irritating and arrogant Blaine might be on first impression, he was too beautiful to die. Kurt wouldn't mind all the gay jokes on him if he could just continue to admire the other man's face.

"What does your dad think of you being gay?"

Kurt took a deep breath, caught off guard by the question. "When I was a teenager I was afraid to come out to my dad. I was afraid he'd stop loving me-" a hitch in his voice made him stutter and Kurt clenched his hands in his lap, fighting to continue. "But he was okay with it. I've been out and proud ever since." He sorted the cards in his hands. Kurt liked the touch of the familiar set of cards in his hands. It gave him some comfort and the illusion of control when he so clearly was out of his element.

"Well, I guess being gay in New York isn't a big deal," Blaine muttered, staring at the cards in his hands.

"I grew up in Ohio," Kurt explained. "I've only lived in New York for three years."

"I'm from Ohio, too," Blaine said looking up, clearly surprised.

"Really?" Kurt said. "Which town?"

"Westerville. I went to Dalton Academy."

"Dalton? I remember their glee club, the Warblers. We met at a few competitions."

"Oh, my God, you were with the New Directions, weren't you?" Blaine suddenly beamed at him.

Kurt was baffled. "You were a Warbler?"

"Gosh, I knew you looked familiar. I've seen you performing!"

"Wow, really? I'm not sure I remember you. In your uniforms you all looked the same to me."

Blaine gave him a hurt look. "I was the lead singer."

"That was you?" Kurt smiled broadly. "Oh, gosh, he was dashing. And so incredibly talented. That's really you? You looked different back then. You had your hair plastered to your head, right?"

Blaine chuckled and bowed his head. "Yeah, I was addicted to hair gel at the time. Tina helped free my curls."

"Good thing you met her."

"You know, Tina was a member of the New Directions, too."

Kurt was stunned. "Your girlfriend is Tina Cohen-Chang?"

"Was. She dumped me, remember? We met at college," Blaine explained.

"I have to admit I lost touch with her after graduation."

"It's a small world," Blaine remarked, looking at Kurt in an odd way that Kurt couldn't read. "So you're from Lima, too, I take it? Just like Tina?"

"Yes, I grew up in Lima. I had a hard time being the only openly gay kid at high school," Kurt explained. "I got harrassed pretty much every day. But going back into the closet has never been an option for me. I'm proud to be different, it's the best thing about me."

"That takes a lot of courage," Blaine commented. "To be who you are."

Kurt just shrugged. He didn't think there was anything special about himself and, yes, surviving in high school had definitely taken a toll on him, but he wasn't sure if his endurance could be marked as courageous.

Still, Kurt relented into talking about himself. It seemed to have a relaxing effect on Blaine to listen to Kurt talking. For the time being, Kurt allowed Blaine this luxury and tried to sneak as much information out of him as he could. You could learn a lot about a person from his questions or the reaction to certain topics. And what harm could be done in revealing a little something about himself?

They concentrated on the game. Kurt was good at it, beating Blaine twice.

"Another one," Blaine demanded. "Three time's the charm."

Blaine was a good-humored loser, joking around, and the awkwardness between them went away. Kurt relaxed and felt like this could work. He could help Blaine. This rich kid wasn't half bad. He was funny and charming even. Kurt considered letting him win the third game, but then decided against it. No cheating, not even to let the other win.

"I lose again," Blaine said, throwing his cards on the carpet between them and grinning as if he were the winner. "Do you know how many ass-kissers I deal with every day? It's nice to meet someone who's not changing his game just to please me. I like that, Kurt."

"Well, I'm here to help you," Kurt said with a shrug, collecting the cards to stack them together. "And I'm not going to do that by pretending as if the world was a place of kittens and rainbows instead of the challenging junkyard it really is. The trick is to find yourself a treasure in between all the junk. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Don't worry, I'm not going to make you dig around in a junkyard."

They laughed and something changed. Blaine's face mellowed into something wonderfully and surprisingly honest. Kurt couldn't look away; the way Blaine gazed at him had Kurt mesmerized.

"I think I've found my treasure," Blaine murmured and then out of nowhere Blaine crawled forward, closing in on Kurt and put a warm hand on Kurt's cheek.

Kurt was too perplexed to react when Blaine kissed him. It was a soft testing-the-waters kind of kiss, lingering for a moment before Blaine pulled back and their lips parted with a smacking sound.

Blaine looked him straight in the eyes and Kurt melted, pushing all the up-coming questions to the back of his mind.

Blaine kissed him again, this time more determindedly.

Kurt's heart rate increased as did his breathing. Blaine's hand slipped to the back of Kurt's neck to keep him in place as he deepened the kiss and dipped Kurt so he could be all over him.

Lying on his back, Kurt kissed him back. While his mind demanded an explanation for what was happening, Kurt's body simply surrendered. It was the best kiss he'd ever had, and yet it was too much. Blaine was hungry, acting on raw desire. Like a starving man falling over the first piece of meat he's been offered.

Suddenly Blaine broke the kiss. "Oh, my God, is that a piercing?" Blaine looked at Kurt with new-found awe.

"It's a tongue stud, yes," Kurt confirmed, panting.

Blaine was stunned. "That's so brave! And rebellious! I wish I had the guts for something like that. I feel like I'm so set in my ways, it wouldn't even cross my mind to do something like that."

"Believe me, apart from the piercing I'm completely boring, and the piercing was more a necessity than a rebellious act," Kurt said.

Blaine looked at him inquiringly. "How so?"

Kurt licked his lips and looked away, into the fire. He felt uncomfortable with the way Blaine looked at him as if he was a rare gem he'd found on his carpet

"I was in a dark space and I needed to be shocked back to life and believe me, there's something about having a metal stud go through your tongue that does the trick." Kurt chuckled.

"I didn't know that a tongue stud feels so great," Blaine said in a low voice, still so close, and Kurt knew that Blaine wanted to resume their kissing. When Kurt kept his face turned away, Blaine set a line of kisses on Kurt's jaw and down his neck. Kurt shivered beneath him. He wanted to stop Blaine, but he was mesmerized by the sensation of the man's hot mouth on his skin. It was just when Blaine began pawing at him that Kurt caught his hands and looked up. "Time out. Please. What's happening here?"

He still lay on the floor, feeling like they'd skipped the part where Blaine would explain why he was kissing him.

"Let's not ask questions," Blaine was still hovering over him, one hand on Kurt's stomach, his fingers slipping under the shirt. Blaine dipped in for another kiss, but Kurt pushed him gently off.

"But I am asking," Kurt stammered and sat up, keeping Blaine at bay. "I'm not-" Kurt struggled to find the right words. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean-"

He was so utterly confused. Did this mean Blaine was gay after all? And if he was, did he really think Kurt would be at his service, just because it was convenient?

"You can't just grab someone and kiss them," Kurt said, touching his lips that were still tingling from the forceful way Blaine had attacked them. "If you're looking for- I mean, there are clubs you can go where you can meet guys for that."

Blaine sat back on his heels and raked a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm sorry, I got carried away."

Kurt watched him carefully. "Does this mean you're-"

"I don't want to talk about it." Blaine got to his feet, resolution in his voice. "I think we should try to get some sleep."

"Fine." Kurt wanted to point out that Blaine had to trust him and be honest with him if this was to work. But he slowly got up as well and dusted off his wrinkled clothes.

Kurt could see that Blaine was embarrassed, he avoided eye contact and was quick back on the couch, covering himself with the blanket. Kurt retreated into the bedroom. Figuring he had to wear the same clothes the next day, he decided to strip to his underwear after all and slipped underneath the covers. But as hard as it was finding sleep before, now it was impossible. That kiss was still tingling on his lips and the heat of Blaine's body upon his own.

Kurt knew a thing or two about one night stands with strangers and he knew that if he'd let Blaine have his way, it would be impossible to maintain a friendship. So to be able to help Blaine find a reason to go on, fast love was off the table. If he had to get his sexual needs out of his system, Kurt knew just the place where Blaine could find an easy hook-up.

Still, Kurt allowed himself to dream, and in his mind he repeated that kiss over and over again. Although it wasn't more than a sweet fantasy.