I've been trying to upload this chapter for two days, but the site wasn't cooperating, unfortunately. So, here's' the next chapter. And I've been remiss in my praise for my fantastic beta, Suzanne, who's always quick to return anything I send her. As always, once I got it back I picked at it again and maybe a few things have changed, just slightly. Any mistakes are all mine!
Chapter 8
"Tell me all about the life of a rock and roll star?" Kurt smirked and his cheeks turned that shade of pink that nearly did Blaine in.
"Oh, there's not a whole lot to tell. You know me. I'm not a huge partier…there have been no ragers after a show where we threw furniture out the 56th story windows or anything," Blaine laughed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly? I spend a lot of time writing and in the studio. There's an awful lot of my stuff out there, recorded, that nobody but my team has heard yet. I'm ok with that, for now. We're finishing up a new album that'll drop in a couple of months or so, once all the kinks are worked out."
"You don't throw massive parties and get wasted and wake up with—" Kurt began, obviously joking, but when he realized where the conversation was headed, he abruptly cut off his interrogation. He did not want to or need to hear about Blaine's…escapades…if there were escapades. Instead, he shook his head as if to clear it.
"No, Kurt. You know me better than that. That's not my style," Blaine chuckled, but he could sense Kurt's unease now and he knew exactly where the conversation had derailed. Better, he thought, to change the subject.
"So tell me about what you do. I want to hear it all. Do you still see Isabelle?"
"Only every damn day of my life!" Kurt laughed, and he was off. He told Blaine the details of his days, how he'd started out working photo shoots and worked his way up to being a fashion editor and now they called on him to consult when the big names needed something fabulous.
"Of course they do. Who knows fashion better than you, Kurt?"
"Clearly, nobody. I see yours hasn't changed much?" Kurt commented, nodding toward Blaine.
"I wear what they buy for me. I'm not picky, you know me."
"Well, someone knows what they're doing. Those pants are amazing and the shirt makes your eyes glow. Hugo?"
"Yes…I'm duly impressed, Mr. Hummel," Blaine teased.
"As you should be. I kind of consulted on that collection…off the clock, of course. A colleague, an old friend and classmate, really…she couldn't make a decision. We had a half dozen glasses of wine one night and threw corks at the swatches to 'decide'," Kurt smirked. "Oddly, when they showed me the colors they were tossing around, I saw that and thought of you…that it would look stunning on you." At Blaine's raised eyebrows Kurt tried to backtrack. "Oh, God, and now I've made it weird."
"No…you really haven't. I…I think about you too, Kurt. I looked into buying this house on the beach in California and the first time I was in it, I walked out onto the balcony from the master bedroom and the water was…it was the color or your eyes and I…"
"You...?" Kurt asked, knowing he needed to hear the rest of the story. He bumped Blaine's shoulder as they walked to the car. The two of them had finished their meal at the local Chinese restaurant, unfortunately unable to find french fries anywhere, and Blaine offered to drive Kurt home. Kurt was sure he'd already missed most of the festivities and he didn't really mind that at all. Plus he wanted another ride in Cooper's beautiful car.
"I was shaken up, if we're being honest," Blaine admitted. "We'd been apart for almost 5 years at the time and that really hit me hard out of the blue. I couldn't imagine waking up every morning and seeing 'your eyes' out there…being reminded of…things. It's still hard, Kurt. But I won't pretend that I don't follow your career. I know you do well for yourself, and I never doubted that you would. No matter what you chose to do, I knew you'd kill it…and you have."
"I bet nobody ever thought two glee club kids from Lima would ever become…what we are."
"Oh, let's not sell Lima short. Ms. Mercedes Jones is killin' it out in L.A. and she's about to drop a new album, I'm told," Blaine stated, eyebrows raised.
"And Ms. Rachel Berry is on Broadway, as she always said she would be, raking in the applause every night. I think Lima's done ok, don't you?" Kurt couldn't help but smirk. Yes, they'd all done pretty well for themselves.
"I…yeah. Yeah." Blaine admitted, but he wasn't feeling it. Lima had been a godsend for him at some point…and then everything went south with Kurt and it was just a living hell. He didn't pick up the conversation the rest of the way home and Kurt seemed to sense his unease. They remained quiet until they pulled into Burt's driveway.
"Would you come inside? Even just for a few minutes?" Kurt asked, and then wondered if he sounded as desperate as he was feeling. But without hesitation Blaine nodded, and they climbed the steps to the porch. Then Blaine finally spoke again, this time with a little pep in his voice as if he'd shoved whatever had been bothering him away.
"I'm so full I feel sick, but that was the best sweet and sour chicken I've ever had, hands down! Where was that place when we were kids? We could have gone on dates there every weekend!" Blaine laughed.
"Right? They've only been open for about 3 years or so, but every time I'm in town I beg for Chinese and we order out for dinner. So good…"
"It really was, and dirt cheap, too! And they gave us extra fortune cookies without us even asking for them."
"I didn't open mine yet. What does yours say?" Kurt asked, pulling a fortune cookie out of his coat pocket and unwrapping it.
"It says…" Blaine began, but then paused. "It uh..." He bit his lip, grinning, and then shook his head. These are silly anyway." He set the crumpled ball of paper next to his keys on the table inside the door and looked closer at the paper in Kurt's fingers. "What's yours say?"
"Mine says '….Oh'," he said, looking uncertain as he examined it. "Yeah…they're kind of…silly…I guess."
"Spoilsport! What's it say?" Blaine teased, reaching for the paper as Kurt tried to hold it out of his reach. Blaine stretched and nearly reached it, but stepped back almost as if he'd been burned when he was suddenly pressed hips to chest against Kurt's side. Had Kurt turned his head even the slightest bit they'd have been nose to nose and Blaine found that he didn't mind that at all. But Kurt had someone at home waiting for him, and Blaine had no intention of messing that up. He hadn't planned on it being so hard to pull away from Kurt, though. He cleared his throat and looked around, stepping further into the house. One could only stand in the foyer for so long, and one could only stand that close to Kurt for so long before just throwing caution to the wind and….yes, well…
"This is just a notch under surreal, Kurt, I swear it is," Blaine said, turning in small circles as he took in the Hummel residence as if it were a magical place he'd never seen before. He walked over to the piano in the corner of the living room and ran his fingers over it, examining the framed photos that adorned its top.
"Why do you say that?" Kurt asked, his curious smile and slightly tilted head lighting Blaine up on the inside.
"I just…I haven't been here for so long and your house was always one of my favorite places when we…back then. I always felt safe, welcome and loved here, ya know?"
"Well, you're still safe, welcome and…" Kurt paused, unsure how to finish the sentence. He thought of his Dad and Carole and Finn and how they'd adored Blaine just as he had for so long. Yes, Kurt was sure they still loved Blaine despite not having seen him for years. "…and loved. And you can stop over any time you want. You know they'd love to see you and nobody would mind at all," Kurt smiled shyly feeling as if maybe he'd said too much.
"That means a lot to me, Kurt. Thank you. The last time I was here I was curled up on the sofa, crying in Carole's lap while your Dad told me over and over that it would all be ok and things would turn out fine in the end, he was sure of it. I didn't know whether to believe him or not…but here we are, almost ten years later. We ran into each other at the store, hung out drinking beer in the parking lot on Christmas Eve, we scarfed down some Chinese food together and now here we are in front of your beautiful Christmas tree…just like old times, huh?"
"Almost…" Kurt murmured softly, bending over to plug in the lights on the tree.
Blaine sucked in a soft breath, eyes wide and a childish, delighted smile stretching across his face. He examined the tree and the ornaments for only a moment before his eyes landed on one that made his heart pound.
"You kept it?"
"Of course I kept it. It was a gift from someone very special to me and it will be on the tree every year that I'm around to put it there," Kurt said matter-of-factly.
Blaine's fingers reached out to play with the strings of wired beads that made up the delicate ornament. He'd sat at his own kitchen table with his mom over ten years ago while she made beautiful, beaded ornaments for a raffle basket she planned to donate to a charity auction. He worked on that ornament all day long, trying to get the blues and silvers just right. It was delicate, fragile and beautiful…and it reminded him so much of Kurt that he ended up gifting it to his boyfriend who had actually shed a few tears when he found out that Blaine had made it just for him.
"I thought…I mean…I thought maybe you'd have tossed out everything that even remotely reminded you of me after…after everything. What about the rings? The ones with the gum and candy wrappers? You had a ton of them when…afterward…did you keep them?"
Kurt wasn't sure how to reply. To say he had kept all of them made him sound desperate and creepy. To say he'd gotten rid of them made him sound heartless, so he didn't answer, just shook his head sadly and evaded the question altogether.
"Blaine…no. I couldn't have done that. I couldn't have tossed everything out. I was upset, yes. I was hurt…so very, very hurt, but I never hated you, not even for a minute. In fact, the more time passed, the more I hated myself for letting things get to that point. I was as much at fault as anyone and I'm sorry for that."
"I should have trusted you. I should have just known that you were busy with things and not…not doing what I did. I was just so insecure with you being away, in the big city with every opportunity to do things and go places and…and to be with anyone you wanted, and maybe…just maybe, I thought…that wasn't me anymore. I thought maybe the reason you weren't calling was because you found someone else who wasn't still in high school and living hundreds of miles away. I'm sorry for the part I played when everything went wrong, Kurt. I'll never forgive myself for all of it." Blaine stood with his back to his host, unable to turn around. He stared into the brightly lit tree, then let his eyes fall closed, refusing to make eye contact with Kurt. Ten years later it still hurt that he'd given up hope on the greatest thing to ever happen to him.
"Blaine…I was at fault, too. We've been over this, after it happened, and I told you then that I was sorry. How long are we going to rehash it? Can we just…move forward and be us again?" Kurt asked.
Blaine snapped his head around and met his eyes, then, unsure what Kurt meant by the question. Kurt quickly backtracked, unwilling to sound as desperate as he felt standing there with Blaine, wanting to just…hold him. Blaine's eyes were still warm caramel and his lips peachy pink. He was still stunningly handsome, maybe even more so than he'd been ten years before. It was unsettling to Kurt how he still felt so unbelievably drawn to the man, even after all the time that had passed.
"Us?"
"We…we can always be us…friends. I'd like to be friends again, Blaine. Do you think we can manage that?"
"Friends…" Blaine murmured, turning back to the tree. "We can try that," he paused, "if you want." Blaine's heart hurt thinking that all Kurt could ever be now was a friend. Now he'd have to send his "friend" home to someone else. He'd forever be plagued by his feelings for Kurt and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Seeing Kurt only intensified the harsh ache in his chest and his first thought was to flee. "I should probably go—"
"Please don't. I can see that look in your eyes, Blaine. I can tell that you're feeling cornered and panicked and I'm not sure why but…please don't go yet. We probably only have tonight and I…" Kurt babbled, his words falling out faster than his brain could process them. He let his own eyes wander around the room, then settle on the carpet, unsure what to say. "I'm sorry. I probably sound like some sort of crazy person. Of course you can go if you're not comfortable, Blaine. I'm…I'm sorry. Thank you for dinner. It was really good seeing you again. If you don't mind, would you…would you please lock the door behind you? And please tell your family that I said hello and Merry Christmas?" Kurt asked, nearly choking on his own words because Blaine wouldn't even meet his eyes anymore. Surely he'd made an idiot of himself, practically begging someone he barely knew anymore to stay with him. And of course Blaine had other obligations and Kurt had taken up his whole evening.
Without another word Kurt turned and fled up the stairs, taking them two at a time and putting as much distance between himself and Blaine as possible.
