Author's Note: First off, I want to thank Sofia Michelle and DC World for their kind reviews, not to mention all those who have favorited/followed this story or myself. I appreciate the support and I'm glad to know that people are enjoying my work! Second, I apologize for the wait. Remember that relationship drama I mentioned last time? Yeah, I had the pleasure of catching my (now ex) boyfriend shoving his tongue down another girl's throat. I was a bit too busy with Ben & Jerry's and RENT to actually write anything. And third, time between my updates may grow eventually due to increased schoolwork and the general pressure of life. It shouldn't be too drastic, but if I mysteriously disappear off the face of the planet for a couple of weeks from time to time, it's nothing to worry about, I'm merely fighting crime...or my Bio homework. :-P
This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.
If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Glee'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.
- Av
Post-It Promises
Chapter Three
Blaine absolutely was not sick.
It was merely a...minor down-sweep of his energy inconveniently accompanied by the tiniest of tickles in the back of his throat and -
"Blaine! Oh, honey, how many boxes of tissues have you been through?"
Kurt's voice was something between disgusted, sympathetic, and guilty. Blaine thought that the look on his face would be even more amusing, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look. Looking meant lifting his arm from over his eyes and rolling towards the door, and that was simply far too much to ask of a very not-sick person.
"Jus' tho'," he mumbled instead, throwing a hand out and gesturing weakly at the two empty boxes on their sides on the floor and the newly opened one tucked in the crook of his arm.
Kurt stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him, taking in the pathetic scene. The floor around the wastebasket was littered with used tissues that had bounced off the mound of pinkish wads that had formed an uneven dome on the trashcan; the curtains were cracked slightly, and a lazy thread of afternoon sunlight coiled on the windowsill, drifting across the floor and curving up over the bed to pinstripe Blaine's body. The distraught boy was folded in upon himself in the midst of a cocoon of blankets and pillows, his hair a mess of curls that stuck out in all directions where they weren't matted down with sweat and leftover gel and his faded old Dalton Fight Club t-shirt was twisted around his torso.
"Oh, Bee, I'm so sorry! I can't believe you walked all that way in the rain yesterday and - "
"Shh, 'ts 'kay Kur'. 'M fine. Jus' a li'l stuff'd ub."
Kurt giggled at the massacre of a sentence Blaine had managed to deliver and instead of protesting further he slipped out of the room calling, "I'm going to make you some tea for now, okay Bee? Maybe we'll try some soup later."
Blaine gave a noncommittal grunt that raked over his throat like sandpaper and then decided to just be quiet for a while.
Strange concept, quiet. It's usually rather loud in the Hummel-Anderson-Sometimes-Berry apartment.
Kurt returned with a cup of bitter, unpleasant tea that he called "Ecatia" or something and proceeded to all but force it down Blaine's throat. For such cruel and unusual punishment it was done very gently, with lots of cooing and stroking of his hair. Blaine didn't buy the act. His friend was clearly hell-bent on torturing him. That opinion changed quite promptly when Kurt followed the tea with a spoonful of honey that Blaine very willingly let soothe his throat.
"If you can stomach a bit of toast or something then I can give you some Advil. Is your head bothering you?"
"Stob talkin' so loud," Blaine grumbled, and Kurt smirked a little.
"I'll take that as a yes. Think you can manage some toast?"
"Id's a code. Nod the flu. I'b fine," Blaine rolled his eyes, sinking back into the covers and closing his eyes.
Kurt glared a little.
"Fine then. I was only trying to help," Kurt muttered, getting to his feet content with the knowledge that Blaine would melt into a little lost puppy before he even reached the door.
"I'b sorry."
The contrite apology made Kurt soften, and he moved back to climb onto the bed with Blaine.
"It's okay, sweetie. Do you want me to get you that toast and Advil?"
Blaine shook his head. "Cad we jus' cuddle?"
Kurt smiled.
"Of course."
Lying in bed wrapped around each other was not something foreign to the two boys; it had happened so often back in high school that it was more of a comfortable habit to fall back into than anything. The crazy of college and work and life didn't allow much time for the small luxuries of such deep friendship that the two had enjoyed previously, and Kurt was honestly glad for the opportunity. He was willing to admit that he had forgotten a bit just how right it felt to just be with Blaine. Quiet moment and easy interactions were what their relationship was made of, and it seemed that those didn't exist in the city that never sleeps.
Blaine was rubbing his cheek against Kurt's shoulder in a sleepy, dazed manner, and Kurt smiled down at him softly. If Kurt was being honest with himself, his stomach never clenched like this for Adam; his cheeks never heated in a pleasant blush from just one look; his heart never felt like it was being prodded with something cold and metal.
If Kurt was being honest with himself, he could never fully love Adam the way that the other man deserved.
But Kurt could always refuse to be honest with himself.
The thing about being sick was that just about the only thing Blaine could do with no trouble was think. So he did. A lot.
The thing about Blaine thinking was that he tended to over think. Which generally resulted in crazy, stupid ideas, which led to crazy, stupid situations. Crazy, stupid, embarrassing situations. Like the Gap guy. Not his finest moment.
In any case, the last thing Blaine wanted to do was over think the whole Kurt thing once again and screw up irreparably. However, Blaine also came to the conclusion that not making waves just wasn't an option. Whatever he did, however he went about this, he was going to stir up feelings long forgotten and question the way things were now to the point that everyone involved would be extremely vulnerable. There would be matters of trust and full honesty, and there would probably be shouting at some point.
The question was, was Blaine ready to open that Pandora's Box? Was it really worth the pain it could cause, the guilt, the raw openness that this would require?
Blaine didn't want to live the rest of his life with what-ifs. He didn't want to wonder, or play it safe, or continue on keeping secrets and hiding feelings from his best friend.
His part of it, his feelings, and his hopes for an outcome...no, they weren't worth it.
But Kurt. His relationship with Kurt, Kurt as a person, Kurt as the most genuinely good person Blaine had ever met...
Kurt was worth it.
Blaine couldn't remember the last time the apartment was this quiet. Kurt was in class, and had proclaimed Blaine "still too contagious and definitely not going anywhere" earlier that morning, and Blaine honestly didn't feel like going anywhere anyway. Instead, he allowed himself to lounge in flannel pajama pants and no shirt, eating ice cream and working his way through a billionth tissue box. The easy silence was peaceful, and Blaine found himself relishing it.
Desperate for fresh air but not wishing to actually put on clothes or leave the apartment, Blaine settled for climbing out the window and settling himself on the fire escape with a travel mug of chamomile and Kurt's copy of Pride and Prejudice. Flipping through the well-thumbed pages and not really absorbing anything, Blaine trailed his guitar-calloused fingers over the smudged purple-inked notes in the margins, thinking.
Where to even start? Kurt and Adam's relationship had more complexity than any of Kurt's previous ones. Adam was a nice guy, easy to get along with, firm and grounded enough to stand up to Kurt's intense personality, talented and competitive enough to keep Kurt satisfied. But he was also quite simple in the sense that he just wasn't very passionate. He didn't throw himself into things like Kurt did, all of his hobbies were precisely that - hobbies. For fun. Nothing went much deeper than a detached interest with Adam, and Blaine knew it frustrated Kurt.
The other thing about Adam was that he was possessive. If there was one thing Kurt couldn't stand, it was feeling objectified. He was very much his own person, and if there was the slightest indication that he wasn't, that he belonged to someone, then he was gone. Adam seemed to be a slightly different story, though. Kurt desperately wanted this to work. He was lonely, just as tired of shallow dates and meaningless sex as Blaine was. Adam wasn't perfect for Kurt, but he was close enough that Kurt was willing to settle. For now, at least.
Blaine wasn't going to let him. He and Kurt just fit together. They always had. Blaine had been foolish to think that such a connection would simply disappear. Given time, things like that grow stronger.
"I have an idea, and I need your help."
Cecile flicked her golden bangs out of wide green eyes and eyed Blaine skeptically.
"I'll have to approve it first," she warned. "I know what your plans are like."
Blaine pouted, toyed with the idea of playing offended, and then decided it would waste too much precious time.
"Okay, okay, whatever you want," he sighed finally.
"Good boy. Now. My shift's over in fifteen minutes. Go eat your treat and do some of that homework you've been putting off and I'll join you once I'm free."
Blaine obeyed, clutching his Medium Drip in one hand and the white paper bag carrying his cookie with the other.
He tried to study, he really did, but with other, much more important things on his mind, the words of his textbook simply blurred together into a frustrating, black-and-white smudged haze. It would be so easy to forget about this whole thing, mope for a few weeks, and try dating again; so easy to allow himself that false hope of love when all he would ever really do is compare every man that came his way to his best friend. But really, it wouldn't. How was that any less difficult than growing a pair and doing something about the highly pathetic situation he had put himself in?
How would things be if he had gotten off his ass and kissed Kurt way back in high school? If he had just asked him on a date, dammit, instead of choking on the words, swallowing them down, and feeling his stomach twist in guilt and self-pity each time? Blinking to clear his vision and re-enter reality, Blaine sighed and stood to pull out Cecile's chair for her as she approached.
"Always such a gentleman," Cecile giggled. "If I wasn't so determined to see you and Kurt together I'd be brainstorming ways to make you straight rather than ways to make you and Kurt fall into each others' arms."
Blaine rolled his eyes but shot her a small, flattered grin.
"You're a sweetheart, Cecile, but I think I'll stick to guys."
Cecile pouted in mock disappointment for a moment before saying, "So. Are you gonna spill this master plan of yours or am I gonna have to pry it out of you?"
Blaine shifted eagerly in his seat and began to talk.
Author's Note: So there's part three. I hope you're enjoying so far! The tea Kurt gave Blaine when he was sick is Echinacea, and it was the thing that I dreaded the most when I was little and beginning to get sick. My mom's something of a health nut and it would always be the first thing she gave me if I caught a cold. It. Is. Horrible. :-P
I'd also really like to know what you think of Cecile. I'm usually not a huge fan of OCs, but she worked in this case. I didn't really want to involve one of the 'Glee' girls for this purpose.
- Av