Blaine realizes that something's on Kurt's mind when he opens the refrigerator door for the fourth time in a period of three minutes.
The two boys, waiting for Rachel to pick them up en route to the Lima Mall, have perched in the kitchen, sharing a borderline uncomfortable silence.
Blaine opens his mouth, exhaling loudly as Kurt removes a bowl of grapes and then places them back into the fridge. He's somewhat sure that he hears Kurt cuss as the door closes shut.
"Kurt, what's wrong?"
Kurt looks back at Blaine, his chin wavering once in a way that Blaine winces at. This is Kurt's angry face setting in, and Blaine has had one too many experiences with the angry face.
"I don't want to go to the mall,"
This isn't actually a shock to Blaine. Two days prior, at the anxious request of Mr. Hummel, had aided Kurt in the balancing of his checkbook –a task several months overdue. In lieu of the exasperating project's completion, it was discovered that Kurt was entirely and utterly broke.
Kurt had been heartbroken at this realization. His long months of prom dress alterations and flower-sitting for neighbors had been undone as his collection of Alexander McQueen scarves and Dior cologne grew ever larger. What little he had saved for college –that far off leviathan- was no more.
So Blaine was not surprised at this boyfriend's reluctance to shopping. But Blaine knew, deep in his core, that the thought of shopping could not possible trigger such idetest/i.
Blaine steps forward and takes Kurt's head between his hands. When Kurt's chin gives another bob, the taller boy steps back just a little –a precautious move now burned into his memory.
But Blaine stays firm and settles closer, choking back a sigh as his chest brushes against Kurt through their thin, summery wares.
"Really?"
For a moment, Kurt's eyes appear viciously indignant. But they soften as the take in the obvious concern in Blaine's eyes. Years of abuse, of silent contempt sometimes bubble up to the surface, and in the presence of Blaine, Kurt must force these remnants back down.
Kurt inhales, steps back, takes his boyfriend's hand. "Mom died today, nine years ago,"
Blaine, crestfallen on behalf of his beloved, gathers Kurt up into his hold. "I'm so sorry, baby. I wish I had known,"
Blaine is not surprised when he feels tears leak through his t-shirt. He kisses Kurt's head, strokes his shoulders, does everything he can to stop the tears.
"Dad usually stays with me," Kurt murmurs, his voice nearly incomprehensible, "but this year… now he has Carole,"
Blaine squeezes Kurt tighter, knowing how hard it is for Kurt to speak about Carole at all. Long discussions with Kurt have revealed that although he loves his stepmother and respects the bond she now shares with his father, bitterness still lies deep within. Between the layers of warmth and gratitude are steely thorns, hell bent on clinging to only one mother figure.
"We all move on, eventually, Kurt. I'm sure your father misses her… I'm sure he wants to be with you. But moving on… that can be equally lovely,"
Kurt gulps, nods. He steps away, swiping at his tears with clenched fists and whitened knuckles. Blaine is relieved when his hands unclench and reach for Blaine's.
"I'm sorry. It just… it hurts so much. Sometimes I can't breathe, it hurts so much…,"
Blaine leans in and kisses Kurt, stopping the trail of mental anguish. When he pulls away, he whispers "I know".
Kurt whispers back, "I love you."
When the two part, they smile gently at each other.
"Were you serious about the mall?" Blaine asks, looking down at his phone to see that Rachel is only two blocks away.
"I'm broke, Blaine,"
Blaine reaches for his back pocket and surruptitously flicks open and drops his wallet onto the ground. Several twenties blanket the tile floor.
"Oh no. That's awful. I've got money to spare,"
Kurt sighs. "Blaine Anderson. You're such a handful.
Blaine grins wickedly and sweeps his boyfriend into his chest. Savagely, he nibbles Kurt's ear, relishing in the taste. "You would know,"
Kurt smiles, and kisses Blaine's roguish grin. "I would know".