CHAPTER SIX

Blaine didn't call or text for a couple of days and he wouldn't return Kurt's calls or texts either. All Kurt got in return was "I'm fine, give me time". It sucked, because he really wanted to talk to Blaine. He wanted to apologize for pushing him, he really did…but he was also glad that Blaine at least told him he was fine. Had he not replied at all, Kurt would have worried that he was laying upstairs unconscious or something.

He'd made up his mind. He was just going to ask Blaine to move in with him. He had the room and he knew he would get along with Blaine just fine. If Blaine found a place later and wanted to move out, then Kurt would have to be ok with that, but for now, he really just needed for Blaine to get out of that place. He would track Blaine down at the diner or the coffee house and tell him his plan.

Only it couldn't be that easy.

"Kurt, I appreciate what you're doing, but I'm not moving in with you because you pity me and my living arrangements. I told you I'm working on something. Just let it play out. Thank you…but I can't. I'm not mooching off of you that way. I have to get back to work, though. I'll talk to you later."

Blaine walked around the counter and back into the kitchen leaving Kurt bereft in a booth at the back of the diner, alone. He suddenly missed his counter stool.

Santana sauntered over, set a mug down and poured him a cup of coffee he hadn't asked for, then plopped down on the other side of the booth, leaned down and set her chin on her hand and just stared at him.

"I fucked up, Tana," Kurt lamented.

"Maybe…but he fucked up first."

"He told you, then?"

"He told me what Matt did. Then he told me you saw it and you were upset…which upset him, in turn, and now he's all whining to me and bent up about that. Although I think now he's more pissed off that Matt ate what he called, let me remember…oh yes 'gooey, square, chocolately bars of pure heaven which God himself clearly touched' and left him with only crumbs in the box of goodies you made."

Kurt giggled, sure that Blaine would be bent up about it. In his attempt to get Blaine to talk to him, he'd left the container of sweets outside the door with a note on it that said 'for Blaine'. He was more worried about Blaine than a container of cookies and brownies any day, though. He'd make more of those.

"I want him to move into my spare room. I'm offering him a way out…a place to stay…and he refused."

"I offered to let him sleep on my couch a ton of times, Kurt. He's not like that. It nearly did him in when he lost all of his stuff when Jeff didn't pay their damn rent. He slept on the streets for 5 days before he said anything and I nearly ripped his head off for it. He doesn't have a lot of pride left at the moment and he's hoarding what little is left. He wants to do this on his own. He won't take kindly to your pity."

"It's not fucking pity!" Kurt said a bit louder than he wanted to. Several customers gave him odd looks. One elderly woman scowled at him. "Sorry, ma'am." Kurt ground his teeth.

"Give him time, Kurt."

"Who says he has time? Who says that ass isn't gonna hurt him too bad for us to fix him one of these times? He said there's illegal stuff going on up there, Tana. What if they raid the place and find Blaine's stuff there? He'll go down with them. I don't want that. I can't have it! I can't be without him, you know!? He's important to me and every night he spends up there makes me sick to my stomach worrying! Damn it, it's not safe. Why won't he listen to me!?" Kurt ranted.

"I think, perhaps, going with that approach would have gotten you a bit further than the pity approach, Princess. Think a bit on that one. 'I feel sorry for you having to live there' isn't gonna get you nearly as far as 'I worry about you because I care so much and I'd really much rather have you with me every evening'. But maybe that's just me."

"God…" Kurt breathed out. "You're right. See, I told you I fucked up."

"It's not over, Kurt. He's right back there. Talk to him. Tell him what you just told me. If I'm not mistaken, you might have an ace up your sleeve you haven't used yet. From watching the two of you I can tell it's there. I bet you're both too stupid to realize it yet, though," she smiled, then sauntered away, ass swaying as she hit the swinging doors.

Kurt waited a bit, eating his lunch as he thought over exactly what he wanted to say. He overstayed his welcome in one of Santana's booths, sitting for the better part of an hour trying to come up with the right words.

When Art walked past the booth a while later he asked him to have Blaine come out when he had a free moment.

"Ahh, young Mr. Hummel. Blaine is being cowardly today. He snuck out back door to avoid conversation he say he is not ready to have again. I'm sorry, my friend."

Kurt just sighed and hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kurt: Formally requesting the pleasure of your company on your first evening off this week?

Blaine: I have some work stuff going on.

Kurt: You're also avoiding me, B. I miss you.

Blaine: I miss you, too, Kurt.

Kurt: Please…make time. I need to see you.

Blaine: I can probably spare a couple hours on Wednesday?

Kurt: Perfect. Dinner at mine? Around 6:30?

Blaine: I'll be there.

Kurt: I look forward to it.

Kurt: Operation "do it the right way" is on for Wednesday night.

Santana: That a boy, Princess!

Kurt: Isn't that an oxymoron?

Santana: Hey! No name calling!

Kurt: What's his favorite dinner? I'll make that for him.

Santana: I'd go with a good steak. Nothing too fancy. Just enough to show him you bothered to do something nice. And maybe some more gooey bars of deity sanctioned goodness. He's a total sucker for all things sweet. Don't be afraid to share said goodness with your favorite waitress, Hummel!

Kurt: I see where Blaine gets his subtlety.

Santana: I'm a lotta things, honey, but subtle ain't one of 'em. *wink* And while we're onto subtle, a little salami for dessert might not hurt, either. I don't know which one of you is more uptight. Loosen each other up, yeah?

Kurt: I won't even dignify that with a reply.

Santana: ^^ you already did *wink* Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.

Kurt: Not talking to YOU about it.

Santana: Whatevs…I can see you now. Your fingers are probably in your ears and you're singing "la la la la la" like a four year old. I've seen B right out of the shower, Princess, and it'd be WELL worth your time to tap that. You two have danced around it long enough!

Kurt: The party you have reached is no longer available. Please check the number and don't try it again. Beeeeeeep.

Santana: Trust me, salami for dessert. Make it happen.

Kurt took a half day from work and, on the way out, stopped at the florist on the first floor of the building he worked in. He picked a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Blaine and then second guessed himself all the way home about it. Did you buy flowers for men? Would Blaine think he was nuts? Would he try everything he could to hide that facial expression that said "What were you thinking?" In the end, he put it out of his mind and headed for the grocery store.

He selected two beautifully marbled rib eyes and two huge sweet potatoes as well as two Idaho bakers unsure which Blaine would choose, but ready to give him the option. He picked out some asparagus, and then, as an afterthought, some fresh tarragon for béarnaise sauce as well. For dessert he thought he'd make a chocolate raspberry cheesecake and just hope Blaine liked it.

On his way home from the grocery store, Alex called with paperwork that needed to be signed off on by Kurt, and nobody else but Kurt, and it had to be Fed Exed out that night. There was absolutely no way Kurt was going back to work, and Alex, bless him, offered to drop it by the apartment for Kurt to sign. He knew all about Kurt's date that evening and didn't want to ruin things.

By 6:00 pm Kurt was an absolute mess. He'd nearly pitched the bowl with the cheesecake ingredients onto the ground when it slipped off the counter. He'd overbaked the graham cracker crust. He'd forgotten to scrub the potatoes before he put them in the oven, then grabbed them back out to do so and nearly singed his fingers off in the process. He needed the potatoes out of the oven in time to put the steaks under the broiler, though, so he'd put them in early.

He nearly slipped and killed himself in the shower because he was rushing to get done quickly while still trying to be thorough. He'd forgotten to brush his teeth and jammed his toothbrush into his gums too hard when he finally gave himself a minute to do so. He still hadn't heard from Alex who was told, in no uncertain terms, that he had to be at Kurt's and gone by 6:15. Finally at 6:25 Alex came banging on the door with the documents in hand. He shoved the envelope at Kurt, who nearly ripped it open and pulled out at least 20 pages of documents and photos to be approved. He started flipping through them hastily, initialing here and there and signing where he was supposed to, when Blaine knocked on the door. Cursing under his breath, frustrated and irritated, Kurt barked out an order to Alex to just open the damn door.

Kurt was scowling and ready to throw in the towel. But…he'd prepared a great meal for Blaine, and it was nearly ready…and his boyfriend was finally there.

"Hey," Blaine grinned, but it disappeared when he saw Alex standing in the doorway. "I…I'm sorry…" he started, but left it hanging out there.

"Hey yourself." Kurt replied from the sofa, stomach still wildly tumbling, gesturing Blaine inside. He was nervous as hell. Why was he so nervous?

"I'm s-sorry if I'm a little late. I was on the phone with Bob and he—" Blaine began, then froze in place and stared at the little table in Kurt's kitchen. He took in the flowers on the counter, the candles lit on the table and the smell of food permeating the air around him…and Kurt's demeanor. He just…froze.

"Are you going to come in, or—"

"Um…you know what? It…it's ok…I started to say I was on the phone with Bob and he needs m-me tonight…early…and so I said I'd come in. You can just…uh…" He trailed off, gesturing to the table and the kitchen. Kurt wasn't sure what, exactly, Blaine was trying to say, though.

"You have to work earlier than normal?" He asked, a little put off and a lot sad. He was sure his face showed both, probably more irritation and less sad, when he thought about it. Didn't they have plans?

"Yeah…so…you go ahead and do what you need to do here and I'll talk to you…maybe…or not…I don't know. This wasn't what I was expecting, Kurt. I thought you said dinner. I assumed carry out or something. And then…this. I…you know what? I'm gonna go and you can do what you had planned and…I'm out, Kurt. I'm sorry I obviously misunderstood."

With that, Blaine walked out the door, sprinted, really, and nearly knocked Alex over in the process. For a split second, Kurt was rooted to the floor, unable to move. When he snapped out of it, he rushed to the door in time to see Blaine at the end of the hallway and called out to him, his voice obviously thick with emotion and confusion. Blaine merely threw his hand up behind him as if to say he had no words left and didn't give a damn anyway, then shoved the door open and disappeared. He left Kurt standing there, mouth agape, unable to even utter a single word of protest. WHAT. The FUCK. Had just happened?

Kurt had sent Alex home with the whole dinner, packed up in foil and ready to re-heat and share with his girlfriend. He wasn't hungry in the least and in fact felt like he wanted to throw up. He's spent the whole damn day worrying about getting everything right, shopping, cooking and straightening up…only for Blaine to walk in and all but stand him up before bolting without explanation. He was just too damn tired and upset to even think about it anymore.

His phone buzzed off and on all evening, but there wasn't a single thing from Blaine. He ignored a call from Burt, another from his friend Rachel back home and a text from Eva. But the last one he wouldn't ignore.

Santana: I hope I'm interrupting something steamy.

Kurt: You're interrupting nothing. He'd have had to stick around for that to happen, and he may as well have stood me up.

Santana: WTF? What happened? Are you serious? Did you guys argue?

Kurt: He showed up, said he'd been talking to Bob at the coffee house and he wanted him to come in early. Then he said a bunch of shit that made absolutely no sense and literally ran out the door without any decent explanation. When I went after him he basically shook me off like a bad smell.

Santana: That makes no sense. He talked to me all day about how excited he was to see you…how it'd been a few days …Kurt what the hell?

Kurt: I have no clue. Spent all day getting ready…bought him flowers…a great meal. Cleaned, showered, waited with butterflies in my stomach and he ditched me. Ya know…between getting barked at for giving a shit about him living with Matt, and tonight, I think I need to just step back and take a break from him. He clearly isn't in any frame of mind to date…me, anyway.

Santana: Kurt, don't ditch him. Don't give up on him. He's been so happy with you around for the past few months. I'd hate for you two not to work this out. Let me get in touch with him and see what happened.

Kurt: Ya know what…you do what you need to do, but I'm not interested in hearing excuses anymore.

Kurt worked himself silly Thursday and Friday. He wouldn't allow himself even a minute to rest. Rest meant time to think and when he had time to think, he thought about Blaine. The same Blaine who hadn't stopped by, called or texted him for two days after ditching Kurt and bailing on their date. Kurt wasn't happy. In fact, he was livid.

He'd done everything in his power to help Blaine and this is what he got in return? $60 worth of food down the drain, flowers he'd thrown away in a fit of bitchiness and a cheesecake- Well, let's be real, he'd eaten the cheesecake. The whole thing. By himself. There's something to be said for comfort carbs.

He was still at work on Friday night at 11 pm when his phone buzzed with a text from Santana.

Santana: Have you seen him?

Kurt: Nope.

Santana: Heard anything?

Kurt: Nope.

Santana: What's with the one word answers?

Kurt: ? Just answering you. I don't have a whole lot to say. And I'm at work.

Santana: It's after 11 on a Friday night, Kurt.

Kurt: Thank you, Tana. I'm well aware of the time and the fact that my social life is so lame right now that I don't mind being here this late. Thank you, so much, for reminding me.

Santana: Zip that up, Hummel, your bitch is hanging out.

Kurt: Is there a point to this?

Santana: He's skipped out on two shifts at the diner. Nobody can find him. Just stopped in at the coffee shop and he skipped that, too. I haven't heard a word in two days. I'm beginning to worry, Kurt.

Kurt: He's a big boy, I'm sure he's fine.

Santana: Ya think? I mean, he could be laying upstairs dead for all you know. Or don't you care?

Kurt: Tana, Matt's YOUR ex. YOU go knock on the door and find out if he's there. Blaine was very adamant that I never go upstairs. If he wants to be found, he'll be found.

Santana: I gave you more credit than this, Kurt. I'm really worried. I thought you'd give a shit.

Kurt: I want him to be fine, but I'm obviously not allowed to worry about him or do anything nice for him. So that leaves being neutral. That's what I am. Switzerland.

Santana: Please God tell me you didn't just make a Twilight reference.

Kurt: I do not know the story of which you speak.

Santana: You lie like a cheap rug.

Kurt woke Sunday morning to the sound of loud, incessant banging on his door. When it didn't stop, he staggered out to see who it was and huffed out a sigh before whipping the door open to admit Santana.

"To what do I owe this lovely visit at 8 am on a Sunday morning, Tana?"

"I came to show you this," she said, shoving her phone in Kurt's face. The picture showed an obviously drunk and passed out Blaine in someone's bed, hair a wild mess and face pressed into a pillow. Tucked up next to him in his hand was a bottle of whiskey that was all but empty. Next to him, with a look of complete and utter adoration and a tanned, strong arm slung around Blaine's belly, a stunningly handsome, blonde surfer god. Kurt could just make out the caption on the screen cap, though only partially, and it said " 'Bout time I got my boyfriend back, eh?" Kurt felt instantly sick and fought down the nausea. Why the hell would she show Kurt this?

"Lovely. So he's been out partying while everyone worried. I'm glad someone's having a good time. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"He hasn't moved from that spot for 3 days, except to piss, and he hasn't been sober since he showed up there Wednesday night."

"This is my issue why?"

"You're being a dick, Hummel! He's obviously upset and you and I both know it's because of what happened between you on Wednesday night! I don't know what it was, but you need to fix it!" She ranted. "Don't make me get pushy with you!"

"Oh God, anything but that, because you're generally so laid back and amenable as it is," Kurt snarked, his inner bitch seeping out. "You know what, I'm done for now. I'm going back to bed. See yourself out, please," Kurt said, walking away.

"They said he mumbles in his sleep about Kurt breaking him and how bad it hurts," she said quietly as Kurt walked away. He swung around so fast he nearly toppled over.

"ME? MEEE? You're insane. HE'S insane! I worried about him and I asked him to move out of there. I offered him a place to stay, as you have, and as Art has. If he's so miserable up there, then he has to do somethi

ng about it. HE chose to snap at me about it. Then he ignores me for days and when I finally try to make amends he shows up only to freak out and bolt, leaving me with a jagged hole in my heart and a damn good meal that I couldn't even eat because I was so upset and sick to my stomach that I'd have thrown it all back up. Do you know how I know this? Because I tried to eat something that night and gagged it all back up!"

Kurt took a breath and continued on his rant, "I spent the evening sobbing into my own pillow because I thought I'd finally found someone who might love me as much as I love him and then he ditched me to go hang out with the blonde god and drink himself silly. Now he's probably not only lost one job, but both of them from being irresponsible and he wants to blame this all on ME? NO. No way in hell, Santana, and you can tell him I said he can kiss my lily white ass!" Kurt sobbed, voice cracking and tired. "Why…why did you have to come here and show me everything I didn't need to see and didn't want to know. Clearly I misunderstood what I thought we had going on," Kurt laughed bitterly. "I tried. I did everything I could to spend time with him, tell him how talented I thought he was. I took him on dates and went to see him sing. I thought we were going somewhere, you know? But apparently I was wrong. And I'm done with being wrong about this, because damn it, it hurts too damn bad. So you can go find him and tell him I'm not taking the blame for things. I can't handle that on top of my shattered heart. Good day, goodbye and God speed, now get out!" Kurt had backed her to the door during his tirade and he didn't miss the look of "Oh NO you did not!" on Santana's face as he slammed the door.

He flopped back down in his bed and sobbed some more.

A/N Ok, I promise the angst-fest will end shortly. You know I can't hold on to it forever...