Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Glee; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. The songs, of course, are not mine either, and all due credit goes to the wonderful writers and performers of those songs.
Author's Note: This story keeps having a mind of its own. Originally, I wasn't going to let Sebastian into this story at all – I'm still mad at him, and I still don't like him. However, this story is about love above all things. So Sebastian gets to appear and give some explanation for his unpardonable behavior. He did want to apologize to our boys so much; I couldn't refuse him.
A word about headcanon and the garage sing-off in "Michael." I couldn't simply have the same scenario as I wrote in "Taking the High Road," as that follows show canon and this does not. However, for the purposes of this fic I was thinking that Wes was still at Dalton (as established in Ch. 1), and that while he knew about the sing-off, he refused to go on principle. In other words, he was the one Warbler who absolutely wouldn't compromise his loyalty to Blaine. I'm still working on it, and it may appear in another story.
The lines from "Original Song" and "The First Time" belong to the Glee writers and not to me. As always, thanks to my lovely friend WickedForGood13 for the beta and the constant encouragement. Is anyone else having trouble with the new review posting system? I've ended up posting several anonymous reviews simply because I don't realize that I'm not signed in.
A Warblers' Reunion – Chapter Three
As Wes slid back into his place at their table, Mercedes leaned over to him, speaking under the rousing song currently being sung by yet another class of Warblers.
"Did you finally ask my girl out, Wesley Montgomery?" she demanded, fixing him with a threatening stare.
Wes smiled, too happy to be at all fazed by Mercedes' glare. "You might say that."
"And did she say yes?" Mercedes prodded.
Wes nodded. "She did."
Mercedes couldn't control the grin that broke over her features. "It's about time. You two have been dancing around each other long enough. Just make sure you don't hurt her, or you'll have a small army of people coming after you, with me and our lover boys leading the charge."
"Well done," David said. "You two would be good together. Kurt certainly thinks so. Make sure you listen to 'Cedes about this, though, Wes. I know you waited this long precisely because you knew how much it would matter to Rachel and to all of us. Just remember that as you see where this goes."
"Thanks, David," Wes said quietly. "I never want to hurt her, and I know that Kurt and Blaine will be after me with pitchforks if I do. I had to be sure, and I wanted Rachel to be sure of her answer, before we tried any kind of relationship. This isn't going to be easy, and I think we both know that, but if she's willing to see if we can make each other happy, then so am I."
"Glad to hear it," said Kurt as he took his seat, giving Wes a triumphant "I-told-you-so" look. He, Blaine, and Rachel had arrived from backstage just in time to hear the end of Wes's whispered speech. Blaine reached over to squeeze Wes's shoulder in approval, and Rachel took the empty seat next to Wes and twined their fingers together, smiling happily.
Just then, the group onstage exited into the wings, and a new soloist appeared. Kurt grabbed Blaine's forearm with a gasp, making Blaine look over in surprise. "Is that who I think it is?" he demanded.
Blaine took one look at the brown-haired, blue-eyed singer on stage and turned a furious face to Wes. "Sebsatian?" Blaine hissed. "Really, Wes?"
Wes sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know," he said apologetically. "I couldn't very well not invite him, though. Not when he was one of our two leads senior year. I was hoping he would refuse to come, but clearly, that didn't happen. He was never expelled from the Warblers, so I still had to consider him a member."
"We made the decision together," David added. "Neither of us were particularly comfortable with inviting him, considering what he did to you two and the Warblers, but we weren't convinced we should exclude him, either."
"Lovely," Kurt said. "This ought to be interesting." Blaine rubbed his hand soothingly over Kurt's forearm, still visibly trying to control his own anger, and Wes grimaced at Kurt's tone. It was classic, imperious, ice-queen Kurt Hummel, and every wall that Kurt had ever built for himself was suddenly back up, reminding Wes unpleasantly of the sharp-tongued, defensive, terrified boy who had first come to Dalton. He hadn't seen this Kurt in a very long time and had sincerely hoped never to see him again.
Blaine eventually sighed, massaging his forehead as the song concluded and Sebastian bowed to the applause of the crowd. "He did get better after – after what happened to Dave," he conceded, looking over at Kurt. "Let's just hope he's continued to improve."
Kurt relaxed a fraction, but the wariness didn't leave his posture or his expression. "Let's hope," he murmured.
Wes stood up, concern in every line of his face. "I have to go announce the intermission," he said, glancing at his watch.
"I'll go," David said meaningfully, standing as well. "It will be better if you stay here."
The two friends nodded at each other, and Wes sat back down. Wes had been the only Warbler of their group who was not present at the garage sing-off, as he had refused to go on principle. He had suspected that Sebastian's plans were worse than they appeared, and in any case he hadn't agreed with the idea of the sing-off to begin with. He had argued with the rest of the group for days that there was a more civil way than a sing-off to settle the argument over Michael Jackson songs. Unfortunately, he was unable to convince his friends either of Sebastian's ulterior motives or to cancel the confrontation, and therefore he had been the only one Blaine had talked to for weeks after the slushie incident. David was probably right. Wes felt more comfortable being present for this conversation, if Sebastian was brave enough (or stupid enough, he thought grimly) to make it happen.
"Rachel," Blaine said carefully. Rachel looked over at him anxiously, and he gave a gentle nod toward Mercedes. Rachel's eyes widened in understanding, and she stood, but Mercedes had caught the look, and her spine stiffened.
"Oh, no," she said dangerously. "I was there when the worst of this went down, Blaine Anderson. Don't you dare try to keep me away from that meerkat."
Blaine opened his mouth to object, but Kurt beat him to it.
"Please, 'Cedes," he pleaded. "I hope this doesn't get ugly, and I don't think it will, but – please. It's not good for the baby to be under stress."
Kurt locked eyes with his friend, and they remained in a battle of wills for several interminable seconds.
"Mercedes," Kurt whispered again. "Please."
Mercedes sighed, her resolve crumbling under Kurt's worried blue eyes. "All right, boo. You're lucky I love you so much. I could use the walk anyway." She stood, looping her arm through Rachel's. Rachel smiled at her in relief.
"We'll be right back if you need us," Rachel promised, and the boys nodded at her before she and Mercedes made their way out of the dining room.
Sebastian finished his song, and the applause was earnest, if a bit less enthused then it had been for Rachel and Kurt. He still had a strong and smooth singing voice; he had clearly kept it in use since leaving school. Sebstian bowed at the mic and smiled, then headed off the stage and down into the sea of tables.
"Is there any chance he'll just ignore us?" Blaine murmured.
"Has he ever?" Kurt retorted, though he kept his voice down.
"Obviously not," Wes said curtly, jerking his chin in the direction of the stage. Sebastian was approaching them, with another man following behind him. Blaine took a breath and closed his eyes briefly before composing his features.
"Hello Blaine, Kurt," Sebastian said as he reached the table, smiling. He saw Wes and gave him a small nod; Wes was looking at him through narrowed eyes.
Kurt studied the man who had made a point of tormenting them so many years ago. Sebastian looked older, as they all did, but the years had been good to him; he was still as handsome and slender as ever. What was surprising, however, was his expression. The cocky smirk that Kurt had permanently associated with him was gone; his smile was genuinely friendly, if a little bit careful. He wasn't sure how he was going to be received, and if Kurt was any reader of people at all, he was actually being sincere.
"Hello Sebastian," Kurt said neutrally, making an effort to keep his voice even and open. He would give him a chance, but just one. Blaine had clearly come to the same conclusion; he was outwardly calm even though Kurt could feel the tension thrumming through him.
Sebastian took them in and sighed, his smile faltering as he sat. "Listen," he said, clasping and unclasping his hands in a nervous gesture, "I owe you both apologies, many times over, for what happened our senior year, for what I did to you. All of it was wrong, in so many ways." Remorse covered his face as he looked at each of the boys in turn."I shouldn't have tried to come between you. Kurt, I should never have insulted you or tried to hurt you. Blaine, what I did to you was –" and here Sebastian paused and swallowed – "it was unforgivable. All of it: the flirting, the propositioning, the slushie. I never – I never meant for you to get hurt, but I never should have created the situation to begin with. I'm sorry."
"No, you shouldn't have," Blaine said, but his voice wasn't harsh, just thoughtful.
"Look, I know I haven't done anything to earn your trust, and you don't have to trust me," Sebastian said quietly.
"They really don't," Wes muttered, and Sebsatian's mouth turned up in a rueful, wry half-smile.
"I just wanted you to know that I regret every bit of it. I owed you that much, at least," he finished, regarding them solemnly.
"You might want to cut him a break, Blaine," a new voice broke in, the broad accent out of place in the room full of Americans. Blaine looked up at the sound, his eyes widening as the man who had been behind Sebastian stepped into view from a few tables over. "He's not the same person you knew."
"Colin!" Blaine exclaimed, standing up and hurrying around the table to throw his arms around his friend. "What are you doing here?"
"Colin?" Wes questioned, openly staring. "The Colin?"
"The one and only," Kurt said dryly, but his tone was affectionate as he watched Blaine and Colin embrace.
Colin Campbell had been one of Blaine's roommates during a year-long residential program at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and while Colin and Blaine were both dark-haired, that was where the similarities ended. Blaine's toned and slender frame was dwarfed by the tall and burly Scotsman who was currently hugging the life out of him. Colin was easily a head and a half taller than Blaine, about six and a half feet. He had thick, straight black hair pulled into a neat ponytail, a silver earring in his left ear, and piercing green eyes that jumped vividly out of his face.
"Kurt, don't I rate a hug?" Colin complained, looking over Blaine's shoulder with a hurt expression. "Get over here!"
Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled as he walked over to join the group hug. "Blaine has first dibs, you know," he pointed out. "He was your flatmate, not I."
"Details," Colin said with a dismissive wave. He looked over at Wes, who was taking in the entire scene with avid curiosity. "You must be Wes Montgomery," Colin said, stretching out a hand with a friendly smile. "Colin Campbell. Blaine's told me so much about you."
"Likewise," Wes said, clasping the taller man's hand warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"You still haven't answered my question," Blaine said, taking a step away from his friend. "What are you doing here? You are the last person on earth I would have expected to see at a Warblers' reunion in Ohio."
Colin looked at Sebastian, who had sat unobtrusively through the greetings and introductions. Sebastian smiled at him, inclining his head in a "tell them" gesture. Kurt, however, caught on before either of them had said a word.
"No," he said in surprise, looking at the pair of them. "Really?"
Sebastian jumped just a bit when Kurt spoke; during his apology to the two men, he had been unnerved by the kindness he had seen in Kurt's face, even through the countertenor's carefully controlled mask.
Blaine looked at Kurt, then looked at Sebastian, and finally back at Colin, his expression incredulous. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," Colin affirmed, moving over to take a seat beside Sebastian and taking his hand.
Blaine shook his head, trying to take in what he was seeing. "Colin . . ."
"He knows, Blaine," Sebastian interrupted. "I told him, all of it; I couldn't do anything else once I realized you two were friends. It wouldn't have been fair."
Blaine sat again, contemplating the pair in front of him. "How did this come about?"
"I don't know if you had heard, but I'm working in international business now, as a corporate lawyer," Sebastian began. "I was in London for a business deal about a year ago, and the company that I was working with there had gotten tickets to Macbeth."
A smile tugged at Blaine's lips. "You were amazing in Macbeth," he said to Colin.
"Which you only know because you watched the film," Colin retorted playfully. "I was their dream, is what I was. A Scotsman with RADA training, to play the Scottish king in the Scottish play."
"You know we wanted to come see you!" Blaine objected indignantly.
"Sure you did," Colin said sarcastically. "Weren't there, were you?"
Sebastian was grinning. "Needless to say, I was captivated," he went on, with a wink at Colin. "It would have been very difficult not to be. Luckily for me, my escorts happened to know where the cast went after their performances."
"Love at first sight?" Kurt quipped.
Colin snorted. "Hardly – though even I wouldn't deny that Seb over here was easy on the eyes."
Sebastian blushed lightly at the compliment, but he looked at Kurt. "Not all of us are so lucky," he said softly, making a small, encompassing gesture with his hand to indicate Kurt and Blaine. Kurt, surprised, opened his mouth to speak, but Sebastian continued before he could comment.
"Anyway," he went on in a lighter tone, "I began haunting the theater. I showed up after Colin's performances, tried to talk to him at the bar, even stayed in London after the deal was done."
"He drove me nearly mad," Colin said teasingly. "I had to talk to him eventually; I thought it was my only hope of getting rid of him. Once we started talking, I found he had many more layers than I was expecting."
"How did you find out we knew each other?" Blaine asked Sebastian, his brow furrowed.
"It was purely accidental," Sebastian answered, "though afterward I was very grateful it happened the way it did. If that whole story had come out some other way, it might have ended our relationship before it started. It was near the end of the Macbeth run. I came over for dinner one night, and Colin was finishing up a Skype call while the meal was cooking. When he came out of his room, he mentioned that he had been talking to his friend Blaine, who lived in New York."
"He looked like a deer in headlights when I said your name," Colin interjected to Blaine. "I thought I had resurrected a ghost."
"You did, really," Sebastian pointed out with a little smile. "I asked if it was you," he said to Blaine, "using your full name, and of course it was. How many Blaines could there be in New York City, especially Blaines who would know a RADA actor in London?"
"So then, he told me the entire story over dinner," Colin said, picking up the thread. "I was furious at first, too – and as much at you as at him!" he said emphatically, pointing a finger at Blaine. "You never said a word."
"It had happened five years before I met you," Blaine said, and it was Kurt's turn to rub a hand along his partner's shoulders as he watched Blaine fight the automatic instinct to wall himself up. "It was all over – I was fine - Kurt and I were fine – it wasn't something we talked about. There was no need."
Colin shook his head, clearly disagreeing, and was about to say something else, but Wes caught the Scotsman's eyes, giving a tiny but vehement shake of his head. Assessing the heat of Wes's glare, Colin let the comment die on his lips in favor of continuing his narrative. "We talked it out after I cooled down, and after hearing everything he had to say, I could forgive him. It didn't hurt that he wanted forgiveness from both of you so much," he finished pointedly.
Sebastian was keeping his gaze away from all of them and toying with his water glass, clearly uncomfortable at being so exposed, but once Colin finished speaking, he surprised everyone at the table by looking up at Kurt.
"Kurt, you haven't said much," he observed bashfully. "I know we didn't like each other then, and you of all people, aside from Blaine, probably have the least reason in the world to forgive me, but please say something."
Kurt was surprised again by the pleading undertone in Sebastian's voice. This was important to Sebastian – for some reason, knowing what Kurt thought was just as important to Sebastian as apologizing. Kurt paused, considering what to say, and he finally asked the question that had been in the back of his mind for years.
"Why?"
"I understand this," Kurt added, motioning between Sebastian and himself and Blaine. "I understand the 'why' of this, why you would want to come here and apologize in person, and I respect that. But then? I never understood that. I had a few guesses, but I could never get any further than that."
Sebastian struggled to speak for a moment, and Colin clasped his hand reassuringly.
"I wasn't a very happy teenager; I'm sure you guessed that," he said finally, letting out a breath. "We moved around a lot – too much, actually; there was never any stability. Dad did a lot of political work in addition to being an attorney, and Mom was a fashion designer – that was how we ended up in Paris one year. They both ignored my existence for the most part, unless they could show me off as their model son. They didn't even care about my sexuality, as long as I didn't display it in front of the cameras. I became very good at playing them off of one another to get what I wanted, which is something else I'm not proud of. At the time, I looked at it as a sort of game. Who could I win over? Who could I beat? It gave me a sense of control and power when I felt powerless about everything."
Blaine had remained quiet as Kurt asked his question; he had wanted to hear the answer just as much as Kurt. As Sebastian explained, he felt sympathy blooming in his chest. He knew how it felt to be ignored by your parents – he had been neglected by one of his own parents and thoroughly disliked by the other. He had been powerless to stop his bullies; he couldn't help the sexual orientation that so angered his father; he had been unable to articulate the overwhelming hurt and rejection he had felt because he hadn't been his parents' idea of a perfect son. He had watched them pour affection on Cooper, whom he had both idolized and resented. Rather than lashing out, however, Blaine had turned inward, turned to people he trusted, leaning on the Warblers and confiding in Wes and David. He had turned to music and performing, where he could always find happiness. He had turned to Kurt, that day on the stairs, and never looked back.
Sebastian's parents had, apparently, cared so little for him that their attitude was one of complete indifference toward their son. Knowing that he was simply meant to fill a place in family photos must have been terrible for him. As awful as Mr. Anderson's anger and disappointment were for Blaine, they were emotions; even his mother occasionally tried to be kind to him. Sebastian had only known absence.
Kurt was nodding encouragingly at Sebastian, his face full of understanding, and the taller boy went on.
"When I went to Dalton – and really, Mom and Dad had dropped me there for the year because they didn't know what else to do with me; I had refused to go through another move, and I had already gotten in some trouble at my last school – when I went to Dalton, I saw it as another game. It was fun getting attention from the younger Warblers. It was a challenge, trying to take over the group the way I did. Even harassing the older Warblers was about power; it made them uncomfortable and angry, and I enjoyed intimidating them."
Blaine glanced over at Wes; his friend looked like he wanted to comment but was restraining himself, judging by the thin line of his lips. Sebastian's face was flushed with shame now, and he was looking back down at his hands. Blaine understood why. The dynamics among the Warblers that year had been ugly, and Sebastian had been the instigator of most of the problems that occurred.
"Then you showed up that day, with the tickets for West Side Story," Sebastian said, raising his eyes to Blaine, "and I simultaneously liked you and hated you on sight."
Taken aback, Blaine laughed, and some of the tension in Sebastian's face eased.
"I can't say that I've ever had anyone tell me that before," Blaine chuckled.
"I wasn't expecting it either," Sebastian admitted. "I'd been completely prepared to hate you. I wasn't kidding when I told you the Warblers talked about you; they missed you so much. I grew to resent the very idea of you, this guy who was apparently polite, charming, kind, good-looking, and a fantastic singer. There was this huge hole in the Warblers when you left, and I could feel it even though I'd never so much as seen you. It made it easy to step in and try to fill some of the emptiness; they were all looking for the person they were missing."
Blaine's expression sobered; he had heard most of this before from various Warblers, once he had begun speaking to them again, but it was even sadder, somehow, to hear it from someone who had only been at Dalton after he had gone to McKinley.
"When you came into Warblers' Hall, the boys who had been there when you were part of the choir just lit up," Sebastian went on wistfully. "Then Nick finally pulled you into the song, and just like that, the hole was gone. Their cohesiveness was back, because the person they saw as their heart was back."
Blaine's eyes were burning, and he felt Kurt's hand creep into his; he didn't have to look at his partner to know that Kurt was deeply moved as well. Colin had an arm wrapped around Sebastian's shoulders and was holding him as closely as their chairs allowed.
"I hated you," Sebastian said, with a short, self-deprecating laugh, "because you were everything they said you were, and I could see it even before you spoke to me. You were so happy to see every one of the boys, and you tried to be kind to me just because I was one of them. I wanted to be your friend, and I hated myself for wanting it. So I became determined to get under your skin, to break you away from the Warblers and this mysterious boy who clearly held your heart. If I could do that, I was better than you, and I didn't need your friendship."
Sebastian turned to Kurt. "When I met you, Kurt, that day at the coffee shop, my reaction was a little more straightforward, but even then it was mixed."
"Hatred," Kurt said bluntly, but he was smiling, and his directness made Sebastian laugh. "Unadulterated hatred."
"Pretty much," Sebastian agreed, his lips twitching. "Not entirely, though. You were the first person I had met in a long time who was willing to say exactly what he thought of me and who wasn't fooled by any of my attempts at manipulation. I hated you even more for being so clear-sighted, but in a small corner of my mind I respected it – very, very grudgingly. I still hated you, but I had to give you a modicum of credit for your honesty."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Kurt said cheerfully. So that was why Sebastian had asked him to speak; Sebastian knew that Kurt would be unwaveringly honest with him. He had known it even in the middle of their teenage feud, and so Kurt's opinion mattered to him. It was a little unbelievable.
"After the slushie incident, and the warnings from Headmaster Davis, I got some help. I found a counselor," Sebastian admitted.
"That was brave of you," Kurt said softly.
Sebastian shook his head. "Not really. I was terrified. What happened in the garage – and your little intervention with Santana and the New Directions – really made me look at what I had done to myself. I realized several things at once. I didn't have anyone who would defend me the way Blaine had defended you," he said, his gaze flickering momentarily to the dark-haired singer, then back to Kurt. "He loved you so greatly, and he had jumped in front of that slushie without a second thought. There wasn't a single person in my life at that point who would have done that for me. I had pushed everyone away. I realized right then that if I didn't find some other way to function, I was going to self-destruct. I was tired of being unhappy, of being in trouble and hurting people, and I knew I had to fix those problems if I ever wanted to get my life on track. More than anything, I had to learn how to let people in again. It took a long time, but it made all the difference in the world."
"I'm glad," Kurt said compassionately.
"So am I," Sebastian murmured. Colin leaned over and placed a kiss on his temple, still holding him tightly.
"What happened to Dave Karofsky made a difference, too," Sebastian added after a moment, his voice low. "I don't – I don't know if Dave ever told you, but I was part of the problem for him. We saw each other at Scandals, and I wasn't – I wasn't at all nice to him. It was why I tried so hard to help at Regionals senior year."
"Everything got better for Dave," Kurt reassured him. "It really did. I stayed in touch with him during senior year and through the summer, and my father talked a lot with Paul Karofsky after that, helping him through some of the more challenging aspects of having a gay son in Ohio. Once I went to New York I didn't hear from Dave as much, but Dad always lets me know when he comes into the shop. He got a football scholarship, got out of Ohio. He met a man named Paul. He's apparently very happy."
"I apologized to him," Sebastian said, barely audibly. "I went to the hospital before he was released. It was incredibly awkward, and I could barely articulate what I wanted to say, but he understood. He forgave me. It took me a lot longer to forgive myself – for what I did to him and to you," he concluded.
"It's so hard to do what you did," Blaine observed gently. "To change your life, to start over without any kind of support system or encouragement from anyone. Kurt's right. It was brave. I had the Warblers, and Kurt and I had each other, but it takes even more strength to do it on your own."
"I had help, too, eventually," Sebastian acknowledged, looking at Colin. "I wasn't alone forever."
A smile spread over Blaine's features as he looked at the pair, and he reached a hand over the table to his former nemesis. "You know, you could have told us all of this years ago and we would have been friends long before now," he said, deliberately lightening the moment.
Sebastian looked at Blaine's proffered hand and then slowly reached out and shook, smiling back. "Duly noted. Better late than never, right?"
"Definitely," Blaine agreed.
"The same goes for me," Kurt said warmly, holding out a hand. "Friends?"
"Friends," Sebastian concurred, shaking again. He felt overwhelmingly relieved. After so many years of regretting his actions and hoping to make amends, he had finally been given the chance to do so, and he was grateful.
The girls reappeared at that moment, their quick eyes taking in everyone's expressions. Kurt could see them let out sighs of relief. David also reappeared, looking a bit flustered.
"Sorry," he apologized. "There was a bit of a snafu backstage. You two are up next," gesturing to Kurt and Blaine, "and Blaine, the group from sophomore year is after your duet."
Blaine grinned, standing up. "I believe you and I have an appointment, good sir," he said gallantly, reaching out his hand for Kurt's.
"I believe you are right," Kurt responded, placing his hand in Blaine's. He stood as well, turning to the table full of friends. "We'll be back. You might lose your bet on this number, Wesley."
Wes shook his head. "The two of you are never going to make me cry. Not going to happen. I made it through 'Candles.' I'm immune."
"We'll see," Kurt smirked, and he and Blaine headed for the wings.
Wes leaned over to Sebastian and Colin, his eyebrows raised and his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Have you ever seen these two sing a duet?"
"Occasionally over Skype," Colin said. "Even when they were singing casually, it was fairly impressive."
"They are impressive, without a doubt, but they take it to a whole new level in performance," Wes said. "You?" he asked Sebastian, smiling at the tenor. Although he had been furious at the time over what Sebastian had done to his friends, the story Wes had just heard moved him. Sebastian needed supportive friends as much as Blaine and Kurt once had.
Sebastian shook his head. "You know I didn't. We were all too busy hating each other in high school for them to sing in front of me, except in competition and at the "Michael" sing-off, and they never did a duet with the New Directions. I only heard them sing as part of a group. I'm guessing they take over the room?"
Wes laughed, nodding. "Let's just say you're about to get a demonstration of why you couldn't break them up, even back then."
"It's true," Mercedes said, leaning in and giving Sebastian a welcoming smile. The boys had clearly forgiven him, so she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. "At Regionals our junior year, they were adorable and crazy talented, and they've only gotten better."
At that moment, the lights went back down, and David appeared at the microphone as servers began bringing out the next course. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Dalton's very own Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel!"
Amidst cheers, Blaine and Kurt walked out from the wings, this time both clad in immaculate white-tie tuxedos. They bowed, then went over to the resplendent Bösendorfer baby grand that now sat in the middle of the stage.
Before he sat down at the piano bench, Blaine clasped Kurt's hands in his own, leaning over next to Kurt's ear so that they would be unheard by the audience.
"I love you," he murmured.
"I love you too," Kurt whispered back. "Always."
Blaine felt Kurt smile, and he squeezed Kurt's hands tightly before sitting down, flipping his coattails out from underneath him and placing his fingers on the keyboard. He created a soft, aimless melody on the keys while Kurt went and retrieved the microphone, bringing it back over to the piano.
"You know, we frustrated Wes and David to no end by refusing to tell them what we were singing tonight," he began, eliciting a laugh from the audience. "Partly, of course, it was simply to foil whatever scheme they had in mind" – more laughter – "but it was also because we chose each of these songs for a specific reason. Each one strikes a chord, if you will. This one felt particularly appropriate on many levels."
"When Blaine and I were both at Dalton," he continued, "our Warbler friends almost despaired that we would never get together."
"There was no 'almost' about it!" Nick called from the audience, and both men onstage laughed with the onlookers. "You two were hopeless!"
"So you said many, many times," Blaine said dryly, speaking into the small mic anchored to the piano.
"That was the constant refrain," Kurt said with a grin. "We were hopeless. Blaine was oblivious, I was timid, we stole longing looks when the other's back was turned, we couldn't stay away from each other but were a million miles apart. I think we heard every possible variation of those themes from every single Warbler – though not when we were both in the same room, of course."
"Some of the variations were more than a little creative, too," Blaine chuckled.
"The truth of it was, though," and Kurt's voice grew softer, more tender as he looked at the man at the piano, "that we were both scared. We were both insecure and terrified. Neither of us wanted to lose the best friend we'd ever had, the most important person in each of our lives, by asking for too much."
"What it took us months to realize – and it took me far longer than Kurt, as the Warblers knew," Blaine revealed, his voice full of emotion, "was that by refusing to ask for more, we were also passing up the chance for something so much greater, for a very deep love based in friendship and trust. When we finally took that leap, it felt more right than either of us had ever imagined."
He looked up at Kurt then, and Kurt could see that Blaine wasn't sure he could speak anymore. Kurt smiled at him and nodded, understanding, and after a few bars Blaine's improvisation became a definitive melody. Kurt turned toward their audience, lifting the microphone to take the first verse.
Lying here with you so close to me
It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe
Caught up in this moment
Caught up in your smile
He remembered so clearly the first time he and Blaine had kissed, in the common room while he was decorating Pavarotti's casket. He had been dreaming of kissing Blaine for months (truthfully, since the day he met him during his impromptu spying trip to Dalton) and the reality was so much better than anything his dreams had conjured up. They had become such close friends, they had struggled through so many misunderstandings with honesty and trust, that when they finally did kiss, they knew it had the potential to mean everything.
"Why did you pick me to sing that song with?"Kurt asked hesitantly. He had wanted to know for days. Why did Blaine want to sing with him? Why had he practically demanded that they do a duet together at Regionals? Their voices suited one another very well, true, but the determined, vehement Blaine he had seen in that Warblers' meeting was a different Blaine, one who was resolutely trying to change . . . something. Kurt just wasn't sure what.
"Kurt, there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'Oh there you are. I've been looking for you forever.'"
Blaine's voice was incredibly earnest, shaking just the slightest bit, and Kurt could feel his heart speeding up as he tried to convince himself that this was really happening. He couldn't breathe. Blaine was so beautiful, and Blaine was holding his hand and looking adorably nervous . . . but Kurt had gotten his hopes crushed so many times. He didn't want to lose his best friend because he couldn't control his feelings.
"Watching you do 'Blackbird' this week, that was the moment for me . . . about you. You move me, Kurt. And this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you."
Kurt was sure that even if he hadn't been able to hear Blaine's voice, he would have been able to tell everything Blaine was feeling just by looking into his eyes. They were amazingly expressive. Blaine was terrified that Kurt would push him away, would reject him, but he was also determined to tell Kurt how he really felt, no matter what his reaction. Kurt just hoped that his own eyes were saying all the things he couldn't; his throat was so thick and his heart so full that he didn't think he could form a coherent sentence. The two boys gazed at one another for a long moment before Blaine leaned in, and Kurt had just enough time to let his eyes drift shut before Blaine's lips were on his. They were extraordinarily soft and smooth, and if Kurt thought he couldn't breathe before, he was suffocating now – but he would gladly go without oxygen forever if it meant he could keep doing this, kissing Blaine and feeling as though he might fly to pieces with the joy and the rightness of it.
Warmth spread from his lips down through the rest of his body, and Kurt knew this was how kissing should feel – not brutal or forced, not repulsive or frightening, but as though you had connected to someone you hadn't known you were missing.
Blaine stood up from the piano and took his microphone with him, letting the band's accompanist take over for him as he found a place next to Kurt and sang the second verse. Looking into his partner's blue eyes, he knew they were thinking of the same moment – it was the reason they had chosen this song to being with.
I've never opened up to anyone
So hard to hold back when I'm holding you in my arms
We don't need to rush this
Let's just take it slow
Kissing Kurt was – Blaine couldn't find the words to describe it. Like fireworks, like home, like being loved and cherished and needed all at once. It was everything he had thought it would be, but a million times more potent – and he'd taken so long to allow himself to imagine it at all. He felt Kurt's hand come up to rest on his cheek, and the skin there tingled and flushed under Kurt's touch.
He had never felt so whole before.
Mindful of the fact that he didn't want to overwhelm Kurt – after all, it was the first kiss Kurt had ever had that mattered, that was hopefully beautiful instead of repugnant – Blaine pulled back slowly. Kurt looked stunned, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes wide and bright with happiness, and Blaine was sure he looked equally amazed. It was so much, almost too much to take in, all of the emotion contained in that touch of lips. A sudden wave of giddiness and euphoria swept over him. He had done it; he had finally realized what he felt and told Kurt. All of his fears of being rejected had been unfounded. They had really just kissed.
Blaine's cheeks went pink as Kurt stared at him, and he ran a hand over his face and through his hair self-consciously, letting out something between a sigh and a laugh. "We should – we should practice," he said with a little smile.
"I thought we were," Kurt said, his voice still breathy but his smile teasing, and oh, did Blaine love that he could still be wonderful, witty Kurt after a kiss like that.
The two men onstage looked into each other's eyes and smiled before turning to the audience, and their joy was palpable to everyone in the room. Mercedes sniffled, her eyes bright, and she nudged Sebastian and Colin. "See?" she said knowingly. "You wonder sometimes how the two of them made it through everything, and then they do – this," she commented, gesturing around them. Rachel and Wes were leaning on each other, Rachel's head on Wes's shoulder and his head on her hair. Jeff and Nick were holding hands, their linked fingers resting in Nick's lap. David still had his arm around his wife's shoulders. Sebastian found that he could hardly tear his eyes away from Blaine and Kurt. They were so wrapped up in the music and each other that nothing else existed for them. They joined their voices together for the chorus, and Sebastian had to admit they sounded stunning.
Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
No, I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm all right, with just a kiss goodnight
They reached for each other again almost at the same moment, and this second kiss was no less sweet than the first, but it was fiercer, as if they both needed to prove that what they were feeling was real. Suddenly Blaine's hands were on Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt's hands were in Blaine's hair, and their bodies were only inches apart. Kurt ran one hand down the back of Blaine's head until it rested on his neck, under his jaw, and Blaine shivered at the sensation. He tugged at Kurt until the countertenor stood, and Blaine's arms went around him almost instinctively. Kurt's free arm found its way under Blaine's blazer and wrapped around his waist in its turn, and Blaine almost gasped from the warmth of it, from the feelings of both need and safety that came with having their bodies closer.
Eventually – though Blaine could never have said how long it had been - they broke apart, panting, and Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt's.
"That was amazing," he said softly, and Kurt hummed happily in agreement, his hands skimming Blaine's collar.
"Thank you," Kurt said, and Blaine's expression changed to one of puzzlement as he lifted his hand to stroke Kurt's cheekbone.
"For what?" he asked gently. "Kurt, if anything, I should be thanking you. You have been so patient, you've waited for me, and you've never stopped being my friend throughout all of this. I have come close to permanently ruining this more times than I want to think about, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do."
"For – for being you," Kurt answered, his voice wavering. "For trying to help and protect me when you hardly knew me. For being my best friend. For being brave enough to say what you were feeling – for making all of this so beautiful. I waited because I wanted this chance with you, Blaine. I wanted it more than I've ever wanted anything in the world. There is no one I trust with more of myself than you. Just - promise me that if this doesn't work out, somehow, that we'll still be friends. I know you think that you're the only one of us who is scared of that possibility, but you're not. It terrifies me, Blaine."
"I promise," Blaine said, pressing another brief kiss to Kurt's lips. "Best friends, first and always."
They had kept that promise, Kurt reflected as he and Blaine finished the chorus and he moved into the bridge of the song on his own. It had saved them from making disastrous mistakes more than once. In the face of difficulties or disagreements, they had managed to tackle every problem with the honesty that had always defined their friendship. While it was often painful, it always seemed to strengthen them in the end.
I know that if we give this a little time
It'll only bring us closer to the love we want to find
It's never felt so real, no it's never felt so right
Sebastian had really been the first true test of their relationship. Kurt had hated him as much for how uncomfortable he clearly made Blaine as for his overly suave manners and slick manipulation of others, and he had made his feelings clear to Blaine in no uncertain terms.
"I don't like him, Blaine; I don't like the way he looks at you or talks to you. He has a ruthless streak."
Blaine sighed, looking around the empty hallway outside the choir room quickly before taking Kurt's hands. "Look, I know that he comes on a little strong, and I don't like it either, but I think he's just looking for friends. Dalton can be overwhelming when you first transfer. He asked me for help because he had heard about me from the other Warblers, and I don't feel right saying no to that. He wants to make a good impression on the Council, and if I can help the Warblers a little even though I left, that's a good thing, right?"
Kurt shook his head, struggling to rein in his frustration. "Helping the Warblers might be a good thing, but Sebastian doesn't need help, Blaine. He's after you, for whatever reason. I don't know if he sees you as a conquest, if he's looking to break the two of us up just for the fun of it, or if he sees destabilizing you as a way of giving the Warblers some kind of competition advantage. It might be a combination of all three."
"And you don't trust me?" Blaine said incredulously, his own temper flaring."Kurt, you know I can take care of myself in a fight."
"I always trust you," Kurt said gently, raising a hand to Blaine's cheek. "I don't trust him. I don't know what his motives are, I don't know what he's hoping to gain, and I don't want him to hurt you. It's not a physical fight I'm worried about; I don't think it's Sebastian's style to throw a punch. Just be careful around him?"
Blaine looked into Kurt's worried blue eyes, and his own eyes softened as he saw the genuine concern and fear there.
"I promise, Kurt," he said reassuringly, leaning their foreheads together. "I don't think Sebastian is capable of anything really terrible, but I will be careful."
"I wish I had your faith in human beings, Blaine Anderson," Kurt answered.
Of course, Kurt's misgivings had been justified, no matter how much he had hoped to be wrong. After that conversation had come the terrible night at Scandals, and the first time he and Blaine had stopped talking since Rachel's house party fiasco. The Scandals fight was also their first serious argument as a couple, and Kurt had been terrified. They were both upset and humiliated, but if they couldn't talk about it, what chance did they have at keeping their relationship intact? Kurt couldn't even find it within himself to be angry after his one furious outburst in the parking lot. He was hurt, yes, but he was also utterly bewildered by how everything had gone so terribly wrong, and worried sick about Blaine being by himself and intoxicated. He had followed Blaine and coaxed him back into the car, pushing away the million thoughts crowding his mind in favor of getting Blaine home safely. Blaine had been silent and angry, stiff as a poker in the passenger seat, and he had left the vehicle with a curt farewell when Kurt had dropped him off.
Kurt had driven home and cried himself to sleep. He adored Blaine; he loved him so much it sometimes felt as though his heart couldn't contain it all. He did want to be with Blaine, though he hadn't wanted their first time to happen in the backseat of a car, when his feelings were raw with hurt and insecurity and Blaine was more than a little drunk. It still awed him that Blaine, gorgeous Blaine with his huge heart and his soulful eyes, loved and wanted him, of all the people in the world. How had they gone from whispered endearments and tender touches, carefully setting boundaries and making sure they were both comfortable, to fighting about having sex?
The awkwardness the next day had been almost unbearable. They couldn't look at each other in the classes they shared. While they had still sat together in glee, there had been no affectionate looks or hand holding. West Side Story rehearsal had been full of ashamed glances and failed attempts at conversation. Even when one of them had tried to address the other, neither of them could find the words. Explanations and apologies died half-formed; sentences were left incomplete. At the end of the night, they had separated with one confused, longing glance.
The second day after Scandals, classes had gone by in a blur, and the cast was in a flurry of last-minute preparation and review for their opening night. Kurt had dashed home and swallowed a sandwich at Carole's insistence before hurrying back to school to help set the stage and run through some of his dance steps. Blaine hadn't left; his dark head was buried in a script when Kurt arrived, and they passed each other when Kurt was done with his rehearsing and Artie called the Sharks and Jets to review the rumble scene.
It wasn't until the curtain was about to go up that Kurt managed to find Blaine in the wings. His stomach was twisted with uncertainty, but Blaine's eyes lit up with a painful kind of hope when he saw Kurt approaching. Kurt reached out and took Blaine's hands in his own.
"Break a leg," he whispered, mindful of their proximity to the audience. "You're going to be wonderful."
"You, too," Blaine whispered back, and Kurt saw his shoulders relax. For just a moment, it was all easy again. First and foremost, Blaine was his best friend, and he was Blaine's. Right now, they needed to remind each other that everything was going to be fine. He gave Blaine's hands a quick squeeze.
"I love you, and we'll talk later," he promised. "For now, go be the amazing Tony that I know you are." He smiled tentatively at Blaine and then leaned in and kissed him quickly before disappearing into the darkness.
"Later" had turned out to be much later, after the curtain call, after changing out of costume, after setting up the sets and the props for the next day, after almost everyone had left. Kurt had spent the entire performance in the wings when he wasn't onstage. Blaine was nervous, Kurt could tell, but he gave an excellent performance nonetheless, nailing the songs and only faltering once or twice in the dance steps. The Warblers were taking up a block of seats in the audience, and while Kurt scowled when he noticed Sebastian, he was glad that Blaine's friends from Dalton had come to support him. Kurt's heart had warmed as he watched his boyfriend project Tony's optimism and joy to the audience, and the warmth had slowly turned to awe. By the end of the show, when Tony had desperately tried to stop the rumble and then hidden in the basement of the drugstore, when he had heard of Maria's death and despaired, when he had run out into the streets screaming for Chino to take him, too, Blaine had the entire audience in his hands. Kurt had tears in his eyes as the curtain fell, and not just from the tragic ending of the play. All he could think of was how fortunate he was to have Blaine, how lucky he was to love and be loved by him. He couldn't stand the distance between them anymore. No matter how much they had hurt each other, Blaine was still his best friend and the man he loved. He wanted, more than anything, to simply show Blaine how much he was loved, to be as close to him as one human being could be to another.
Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
And I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm all right, with just a kiss goodnight
I don't want to mess this up. Kurt vividly remembered the first time Blaine had said that at the Lima Bean. He had understood it, intellectually, then; he had shared the fear that their friendship might not remain intact if they tried to be something more. However, the longer he and Blaine were together, the more they endured and the more they loved each other, the more Kurt felt it. He didn't want to lose the love blossoming between them; he didn't want to let Blaine go; he wanted Blaine in his heart and under his skin so that he would never lose him. He wanted to give the same gift to Blaine.
When they made love that first time, after opening night, it couldn't have been any more perfect. Under the cozy eaves of Blaine's room, they had slowly mapped each other's bodies with lips and tongues and hands. The dim lights had made their skin glow and their eyes sparkle. They had gently removed their clothing piece by piece, marveling at the beauty they found beneath. They had kissed each other through the moments of awkwardness or insecurity, whispering soft reassurances. Kurt had known that Blaine's eyes were quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but they took on a new dimension that night as Blaine's love and trust were laid completely before him, and Kurt could only cherish those gifts, with wonder and gratitude and infinite tenderness. He had done everything in his power to convey the strength of his feelings back to Blaine, to show the depth of his love through his body as well as his words. They had both grown more skillful and practiced with time, but neither of them had ever forgotten the precious feelings of safety, adoration, and trust that mingled with their love and passion.
As he and Blaine launched into the final chorus of their song, Kurt reached out and took Blaine's hand in his own, and he was rewarded with a dazzling smile from his partner. For a moment, time flickered and merged. Kurt saw the Blaine Warbler who had sung "Candles" with him, the Blaine who had transferred to McKinley for him, who had made their first time together exquisite simply by being his wonderful, tender self – but he also saw the Blaine who was singing with him now, older, wiser, and even more beautiful. The Blaine who had come with him to New York, who had comforted him after every audition rejection, who had been in the audience on every opening night, who had haunted his bedside when he was ill and as he recuperated. They were both the same people they had been in high school, but with more experiences, joys, and sorrows that had matured them and made them stronger than ever. Love flowed between them like a current, warm and strong and all-encompassing, and Kurt knew that no matter what else life held for them, they would weather it together.
As the last notes left their lips and the applause began, he caught Blaine's eyes and silently tried to project every loving thought and memory to him. He soundlessly mouthed a question.
Just like the song?
Blaine's smile was softer this time and his eyes shone. Kurt knew he understood when his reply was immediate.
Like the song.