I am actually the worst at updating. This time, my excuses are that my sister came home, my other sister graduated, and I had an AP and a regional exam this past week. Each of the above took up my time, eeep!
Anyways, this is it, folks. This is the last chapter (though there is an epilogue coming as well). If you've stuck with me to this point, you really, really deserve a hug and a pat on the back and literally all my love.
Anyone that saw this last night, nothing has changed about it. I just accidentally deleted the chapter because I am awful with, well... most things.
The problem was that there was still evidence of Kurt scattered around, as he was still there, just out of the room.
At first, Blaine had only been aware of the emotional. He had only noticed the way his heart tugged when he woke up alone or when he brushed his teeth without Kurt beside him, playfully fighting for a spot in front of the mirror and giggling. He noticed the way his mornings didn't start with whispered conversations and declarations of love but we have to stay oh so quiet so they didn't wake up Jeff. He didn't go about his day thinking about how funny Kurt would find whatever just happened. He didn't hurry back to his room when his classes let out to see Kurt. He was alone.
The thing was, at times, Kurt was still there, if only in Blaine's imagination. Blaine would be in bed and he'd swear he heard a sigh or a sleepily murmured "Blaine" that was a bit too high to be Jeff (not to mention the fact that Jeff probably should not be saying Blaine's name in his sleep), or he'd be doing his homework and he'd hear Kurt laugh.
He was going insane.
In addition to his ghost lingering, he started noticing that there was the physical evidence, items left about just waiting for him to return, none the wiser that he never would; things that reminded Blaine and Jeff that they hadn't just been sharing a hallucination.
His toothbrush sat in the top drawer in the bathroom. His lotion was on the dresser. A jacket was peeking out from underneath their bed (which, Blaine would admit with only a little bit of embarrassment, he had taken to pulling to his nose in moments when he felt particularly pathetic). In the corner was a paper box half full of colorful paper stars that he had folded during what had come to be known as "Sex Week." A message written in his neat scrawl was left up on the whiteboard. In books, there were feathers left to mark the pages, including a few in the Bible and Blaine's old US History textbook.
If they were smarter, they would do what they could to tuck away Kurt's belongings or maybe even bring them to Lima for him, if for no other reason than to allow Jeff to say goodbye. They would erase Kurt's handwriting from the wall and stop spraying the room freshener he had bought for them.
But it wasn't that easy. There was something undeniably final about getting rid of his things. It was closing the back cover of a book that you really enjoyed. Once you close the book, that's it. There's nothing more there; that was, literally, all she wrote. Sure, you could hope for a sequel, but usually you were left with a story that was, technically, finished, but you still had so many things you wondered.
Blaine thought back to when his great uncle had died. All of his life, it had always been Mason and Mallory, whose alliterative names were always paired together and mashed as if they were just one name instead of two (he'd grown up mildly obsessed with them, if he was being completely honest. They were just so in love and obviously so, even after all those years, such that people didn't always differentiate them in their minds; the way he'd always dreamed of being with someone, the way he could see himself becoming with Kurt).
But then Mason had died, just a few weeks before Christmas. Blaine had wanted to send her a card, but got stuck when he wanted to address the card.
If he had put both of their names on the envelope, it would have served as a painful reminder for her to see his name on the envelope, to know that Mason wouldn't be there to open the mail with her.
On the other hand, though, putting only her name would have hurt, too. It would have been like he was trying to forget that he had ever been there. He didn't want that, either.
He admitted then that he had been overthinking it, but now that he had a room full of untouchable things that belonged to someone who was essentially now just a ghost, a memory… and chances were, he was still overthinking it.
"We probably ought to do some cleaning," Jeff commented.
"Hm? Blaine asked, looking up from a pair of shoes that were decidedly not his.
"Our room," Jeff said, "looks like a bachelor pad. And, I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm a messy person. But we both became messy people while Kurt was here because he must have cleaned while we were in class or something, because it was like when you're staying in a hotel and you come back to the room in the afternoon and wham! It's clean!" He paused, as if realizing that he's gone off on a tangent, then gestures vaguely before continuing, "Anyways, we've stopped cleaning, not to mention stopped touching anything within a foot radius of anything that belongs to Kurt."
"You've noticed that?" Blaine asked, sounding a bit surprised.
He nodded in confirmation, leaning back on his bed. "I mean, I've been doing it, too. Right now we're in that bereavement period, like when your dog dies. You leave the toys and ball out for a while, then you quietly stuff them away or use them for other things."
"You mean for other dogs?" he asked with a frown. Of course, Jeff hadn't meant anything by the comparison, but the thing was, if you used your dog supplies for anything else, chances were that it was for a new puppy.
"Well, sure, maybe. But obviously we're not getting a new Kurt," Jeff said, "and we need to do something about the things that are ours. Even Nick says our room is getting out of control."
"It's mostly just clothes lying around," Blaine pointed out.
He nodded. "And a growing layer of dust because apparently we are a very dusty people. And I was thinking about cleaning the bathroom, too," he said.
"Not a bad idea," he agreed.
Jeff rolled onto his side to look at Blaine. "The problem," he said, "is that I need cleaning supplies, and the most convenient place to get cleaning supplies is at the Wal-Mart."
He blinked. "Is there something wrong with your car?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "There is something wrong with me. I am suffering from a disorder you yourself are very familiar with."
When a few seconds had passed and it didn't appear that Jeff was planning on elaborating, Blaine asked, "What disorder?"
"CMKD," Jeff said. "Chronic Missing Kurt Disorder. Symptoms include, but are not limited to: crying, moping, an inability to touch things that belong to Kurt, and, most pertinently, nostalgia."
"Ah," Blaine said. He didn't say anything for a moment, once again struck by the fact that even though Jeff was handling it much better now than he had at first, he still missed Kurt, too. Blaine didn't have a monopoly on missing Kurt, no matter how much he loved him and regretted leaving him in Lima. "Do you need moral support to go to Wal-Mart?"
Jeff snorted. "I am a big boy," he said. "And also, if I try to pull anything off while I'm there, you'll probably just start, like, giggling or something. You're not really subtle."
Blaine laughed. "Fair enough," he said. "Good luck, then."
"Thanks," Jeff said. "I might drag Nick along, though."
"Yeah, drag Nick along," he said with a grin, folding his hands in his lap and leaning forwards toward the blonde. "So how is that going?"
Jeff rolled his eyes at Blaine, who was always up for a good ole boy talk, but grinned anyways. This was killing two stones, after all: it would help Blaine get his mind off of Kurt (who, Jeff knew despite Blaine's claims otherwise, was still keeping up residence in the front of Blaine's mind, even after about a month), and it would allow Jeff to do some rabbiting about his new relationship, going strong three weeks in. "It's going well," he said. "Just like everyone knew it would. I mean, I thought it was going to be, like, overwhelmingly different or maybe awkward at first since we've been so close for so long, but… It's really not. It's basically the same, really, just with more physical affection and ridiculous nicknames just for the hell of it—okay, actually, we've always gone for the nicknames, so it's just the physical affection. I never thought I'd like just sitting around holding someone's hand that much, and yet. Oh, and let me tell you, Nick is the best kisser."
Jeff paused, then added, "But I won't talk to you about that, because I know you know Nick is a good kisser and that doesn't bother me because you were drunk and I made out with him while drunk, too, but it's still something we're not talking about." He got a faraway look on his face for a second, and then said, "Also, he takes me out, now, too. Like, to dinners and stuff. I didn't even know he could be so sweet but he is. Did I tell you he took me out to visit Pickles last weekend?" Apparently when Nick had returned the pigs to their owner, he had asked about the possibility of going back to visit them later.
Blaine laughed. "I am so glad you got your act together," he said. "Because this is every bit as cute as I knew it would be, but the wait was killer."
Jeff was about to reply when his phone rang out, and he picked it up. "Oh," he said, "speak of the devil." He looked at the message on the screen, and then said, "He's freaking out about some test."
"The Latin one?" Blaine asked.
"Probably," he replied. "I mean, he never goes to that class, so he probably hasn't learned much of anything. So I think I'll take him over to Wal-Mart, where we can grab some snacks and stuff in addition to cleaning supplies, and then I'll school him."
Blaine rolled his eyes fondly. "Didn't you nearly fail that class?"
"Nearly," he said. "And close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."
"Fair enough," Blaine said. "And while you're out, I think I have a date with some laundry."
Jeff hesitated for a second. "If you want to—"
"Just go," he said, smiling in earnest. "It needs doing, and I don't want to be the third wheel or anything."
"If you're sure you're fine," he said.
"I am ordering you to go hang out with your boyfriend," Blaine said, not missing the way Jeff bounced a little bit as he left the room and shut the door behind him.
Jeff didn't really know much about cleaning. Of course, he knew the basics: sweeping, mopping… You used Windex on windows and shower doors; you used Scrubbing Bubbles on the tub. Nick had also pointed out a drain cleaner, saying that the sink in his and Blaine's room was a bit backed up.
The thing was, he'd never really needed to clean that much. When he was a kid, his mother cleaned his bathroom for him. And then, as he'd gotten older and she'd stopped cleaning the bathroom for him, he'd learned to deal with a bit of a grimy bathroom; it wasn't like he spent great amounts of time in there. But Kurt had cleaned their bathroom and it had been nice. He wanted that back.
The problem was, of course, that he had no idea how one accomplished such a feat.
For the most part, though, he seemed to have conquered the bathroom. The floor and shower were close enough to what he would call clean, and the toilet was back to the off-white color it was meant to be (which, Jeff thought, was really disgusting. Was that poop residue that he had just scrubbed off the toilet bowl?).
The one thing that was still a bit concerning was the sink. He was doing his best to just stick to the instructions on the side of the bottle (ignoring the voice in his head that thought pouring the entire bottle down the drain just felt wasteful even though he knew it was necessary to break down whatever was left on the inside of the pipes and had no other purpose but to go down the drain), though he ran into an issue when the directions deviated between moderate clogging to hard clogging.
Since the difference was just a matter of time, he decided to go for the extra few minutes for a hard clog. It couldn't hurt, he figured.
Once a bit over a half hour had passed, he returned to the sink and, as per the instructions, started the faucet to rinse out the drain. Sure enough, the water seemed to be going through well enough.
After a moment, a small spider ran out of a hole at the top of the sink that he was not aware had been there and why was it there and why had the spider run out of it?
"Hey little buddy," he said, leaning down to watch the spider closely as it made an attempt to run down the side of the vanity, watching it turn away in alarm each time he stuck the empty bottle from the drain cleaner into its path. It was tiny enough that he wasn't at all scared by it (a fact that he would brag to Nick about once he was out of his test). "What were you doing in there? And why did—"
He stopped midsentence as he looked at the sink, realizing why it was that the spider had run out. There were now bubbles flowing out of the hole. Where did that hole even go?
A bit panicked at the appearance of random bubbles, he let out a quiet yelp and quickly turned off the tap. Watching the bubbles disappear again, he sighed in relief and turned the water back on. Chances were, he realized, those suds were a good thing. They were probably cleaning. They smelled like cleaning supply, anyways.
Soon enough, there was nothing left but simply water running through the sink and going down the drain just as quickly as it came out of the faucet.
"I am awesome," he said. "I can do anything. If this whole school thing doesn't work out, I can totally just become a maid or something. Sure, it doesn't pay well, but Nick can be my sugar daddy. Yes, plan. I am the greatest at cleaning. This is the fucking nicest, cleanest bathroom ever… barring maybe that spider. But still, you could eat off of it. Because I cleaned it. And I am a professional when it comes to cleaning."
Behind him, there was applause.
Nick was fidgeting in his seat, staring down at a set of notes. His foot was tapping and one hand was tapping his pencil on the tabletop while the other ran through his hair nervously.
He was so distracted that he didn't look up or even seem to notice when Blaine came in and took his seat next to him.
"Uh… Nick?"
He jumped, then laughed a bit when he looked up and realized that it was Blaine standing there. "Hey," he said. A moment later, he said, "I am completely and utterly unprepared for this test."
Blaine nodded. "But I thought that Jeff helped you study last night?" he asked, looking like he was doing his best not to laugh.
"Yes," Nick affirmed, "he helped me. Study. For my Latin test."
"You didn't study at all, did you?" he asked.
The brunette laughed, shaking his head. "Not even a bit," he said. "Or rather, a little bit. We honestly tried. But, see, he decided that he'd ask me questions, and when I answered correctly, I'd get a kiss. But, well."
"Oh, I see," he said, laughing with him. "I've been down that road. That's why Kurt was prohibited from kissing any part of my body, no matter how innocuous, while I was trying to study."
"Probably a good rule," Nick said, nodding in approval. "Though I just don't think me and Jeff would be able to pull it off, particularly not considering how bad we've always been at studying, even pre-boyfriends." He glanced down at his notes and sighed before shutting his notebook and sliding them back into his bag. "Macneish is about to hand out the test, and I am going to fail either way." He held up a hand for Blaine to high-five.
He let out a laugh. "As long as you're accepting of your fate," Blaine said.
"I'm not, really," he said, "but I won't be able to retain anything I try to teach myself right now. So."
"Fair enough," he said. Looking up to see their teacher slowly stand up and disinterestedly start handing out answer sheets to students, Blaine patted Nick on the shoulder and said, "Good luck."
"I'm going to need it," he murmured in reply, twirling his pencil between his fingers nervously.
Halfway through the test, Nick started humming. After a moment, Blaine realized that he knew what it was that he was humming. He was humming Stronger.
Glancing up to make sure Mr. Macneish wasn't looking (he didn't even appear to be in the room, actually), he whispered, "Seriously, Nick? Stronger?"
"I need to feel empowered," he replied. "And I feel empowered." He returned to his test, and then a few seconds later he looked back up with a smirk. "And you can't tell me you don't appreciate a good ole empowerment song."
He had him, there.
At that moment, Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he , and he silently thanked God that he had remembered to turn the volume off. He wasn't going to chance looking at the message now, lest Mr. Macneish see him and take the phone and give him an F on the test (and unlike Nick, he was feeling confident about this test). He finished up the test as quickly as he could and turned it in.
As soon as he got back to his desk, he found a text message from Jeff: Need you back here ASAP.
Such a succinct and ambiguous text message from Jeff never meant good things. And Jeff had been planning on cleaning the bathroom today, hadn't he? Chances were the room was literally covered from wall to wall with bubbles or Comet powder.
He quickly asked if he could go to the bathroom and left the room. He knew that he would probably get in trouble for not returning to class, but then again, this was Mr. Macneish, who seemed utterly unaware that about half of his class was only there for test periods. So maybe he wouldn't even notice that Blaine didn't come back from the bathroom. Regardless, he couldn't, in good conscience, leave Jeff unsupervised for much longer than he already had, apparently.
Blaine quickly made his way across campus back to his dorm, all the while making up situations that he might be faced with upon returning to the room, each one a bit worse than the last. Knowing Jeff, though, any amount of entropy was possible. It usually wasn't as much a question of if there was a mess, but how much of a mess there was.
Swinging open the door to their room, he called out, "Jeff, what on earth did you—" He stopped short, because what he saw was not at all like any of the situations he had pictured. For a second he forgot how to breathe, but finally managed to say, "Kurt."
Perched primly—perfectly, one leg crossed over the other just like he always did—on the edge of his bed was Kurt, looking back at Blaine with those gorgeous blue-green eyes and just looking so hopeful and breathtakingly beautiful and here. "Hi."
"Well," Jeff said, grabbing his keys, "I think my work here is done. I'll leave you two to it, then." He winked, then ducked out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
Before Blaine could think better of it, he rushed forward and tugged Kurt to his feet and into his arms. His arms wound themselves tightly around Kurt's waist, holding firmly as if he thought he might disappear. For a second he worried that it was the wrong move, until he felt Kurt's arms come up to envelop him in return, and that was all Blaine needed to bury his face in the curve of Kurt's neck and shoulder.
"Oh my God, Kurt, you're here," he said. "You're actually here, oh, I thought I'd never see you again and I just felt so stupid and, God, I missed you, oh my God, I love you so much. I can't believe you're here but you are oh my God, please take me back or at least say something, love."
He heard a sniffle, and with a jolt he realized that Kurt was crying and, oh, Blaine was, too. "Blaine," Kurt said. Blaine could tell that he was trying to make his tone sound admonishing, but his voice was thick with tears, taking some of its effect away. "You're doing that thing again, where you're nervous and you never stop talking."
"I'm not nervous," he said, finally pulling away so that he could really look at his angel, "I'm just really, really happy to see you again."
Kurt let out a long, relieved breath. "So you are happy to see me?" he asked.
"Of course I am," he said quickly. "When I said I love you, I meant it."
He just smiled a bit before replying, "I love you, too." Then, something in his face hardened and he stepped back out of Blaine's embrace.
Blaine stepped weakly towards him. "Kurt?"
"We can't just pretend that you didn't just leave me alone for a month with absolutely no warning," he said. "We need to talk about this."
Blaine knew that it was something that needed to happen. Part of him had just hoped that it would come later, once the high that came from seeing Kurt again had gone away.
Kurt frowned at his hesitance. "I'm doing this for us," he said. "We're never going to work out if we can't talk to each other."
He nodded quickly. "I know, Kurt, I just… I've realized over this past month that I was just… I was completely wrong," he said. "I just wanted to help you, you know? I—"
"Help me? What part, exactly, of leaving me in an unfamiliar place with only one person I had ever met before without so much as a warning was helping me?" Though the look in Kurt's eyes was far from friendly, his tone was still mostly even.
"Okay, I know it was dumb now, but at least give me credit for the fact that I didn't know that your father got remarried."
"Because that makes it so much better," he replied, looking exasperated.
"Look, I know it wasn't my best plan and I know you're upset about it, but think about it from my point of view. I thought I could make you happy by returning you to your dad, and I know you'd never agree to what I had in mind, so I just… didn't say anything," he finished, hoping his statement didn't sound as lame as he thought it did.
"And you really shouldn't do that," Kurt said.
"I know, I just knew that you're still conditioned to—"
"Conditioned? I'm my own person, Blaine. I—" He stopped for a second, his hands moving as he shook his head as if he couldn't believe he had to say this, to Blaine of all people. "I have my own thoughts and feelings and common sense and rationality and I can make decisions and you've never treated me like just some pet; you've always been really good about that, and then you go and do this and don't even say anything about it because I can't be trusted to make my own decisions? Is that what this was, Blaine? Do you not trust me to make good decisions? Do you not trust me to know what is best for me? How is that supposed to make me feel?" In the middle of his rant, he had drawn his wings back, most likely unconsciously, to look intimidating. With that last question, though, his voice had dropped and his wings had, too, curling around himself
"Kurt, sweetheart, no," Blaine said, reaching out and grabbing his hands, even though he knew that it was probably crossing some boundary. Kurt just looked so deflated and he couldn't help himself. "I was an ass. I know now that I shouldn't have made that decision on my own. It wasn't my decision to make, and since it was impacting you more, I should have talked to you before I did anything. I know you can make good decisions—heck, you are way smarter and better at stuff like that than I ever will be." He realized then that Kurt was crying. He reached up slowly (to give Kurt a chance to push his hand away) to gently wipe away the few tears that had escaped his eyes. "Baby?"
"I thought you didn't love me anymore," Kurt explained, his voice so tiny that Blaine almost didn't hear him.
"Oh, Kurt," Blaine said, unable to keep himself from pulling Kurt back into his arms. "Never," he whispered into his ear, "I could never—will never—stop loving you. That is just not possible. It's because I love you that I did this, even as stupid as that sounds."
Kurt turned his head to breathe in Blaine's scent, warm yet masculine and oh so familiar and comforting. "You are such an idiot."
"I know," Blaine said. "And on top of all the other reasons that this was the stupidest thing I've ever done, I almost completely lost the one person in my life that I can trust to help me be a bit less stupid."
Kurt sighed. "Can you… I think I pretty much understand why it is that you did what you did, but can you please just sort of walk me through your logic on that one?" he asked.
"Sure," Blaine said, moving so that they were lying down, curled up together. It was a bit awkward with Kurt's wings—apparently he'd gotten a bit out of practice in terms of moving so that it wouldn't be uncomfortable for Kurt—but they were still back in each other's arms, which was what mattered most, really. "So, you remember back in December, when you told me about your mom and your dad?"
Kurt nodded, and he moved his wings so they were around the two of them like they had been that day on the snowy ground.
"Well, that was all you ever really said about that. So, I knew that it was, like, a thing for you. And then you started having these nightmares, right?"
He felt Kurt tense up. "You knew about those?"
Blaine nodded. "You'd shake and whimper and call out for your dad," he said softly. "And I guess I just sort of thought that you needed to see him. And from there I guess my mind thought that it wasn't a huge leap from finding your dad to leaving you with him—I mean, we're all supposed to live with our parents until we're adults, right? But I knew that you wouldn't just agree to it. And, yes, like I said, I made the asshole mistake of thinking that you couldn't make a decision like that because they trained you to be unquestioningly loyal and serving to the person that paid for you."
"You already knew I wasn't like the rest of them," Kurt protested weakly.
"I know you are, darling," he said, squeezing Kurt. "I wasn't thinking right, and I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you if I have to, you hear me?"
"I'll hold you to that," Kurt said. He moved up to press a kiss to Blaine's lips, just the way Blaine had been remembering and missing for a month. And somehow, despite the fact that they'd kissed countless times, and that they'd seen each other naked, and that they'd been inside each other, Blaine still felt himself blushing.
"I have an idea," Blaine said, gently pushing Kurt away from him on the bed as he moved to get up. He grabbed a piece of paper, a pen, and a textbook to use as a hard surface to write on, and then returned back to the bed.
"What's that for?" Kurt asked, eyeing the paper dubiously.
Blaine didn't say anything in reply, just started writing, slowly and deliberately:
I, Blaine Anderson, promise to love Kurt with all my heart.
I promise to always make it up to him when I do stupid things.
I promise to trust him, because he's way smarter than me anyways.
I promise to help him win at board games.
I promise to make goofy jokes to make him laugh.
I promise to surprise him with little gifts, especially if he's had a bad day.
I promise to never leave his side.
I promise to, one day, marry Kurt Hummel.
I promise to love Kurt with all my heart.
He paused to let Kurt read through what he had written, watching as Kurt started tearing up again, and then gasping when he got to the bottom. "Blaine," he gasped out, his hand over his mouth. "Do you really…"
Blaine grinned, leaning forward and kissing Kurt's temple. "I am being one hundred percent honest and serious when I say that I want to marry you."
As Blaine turned to find sticky-tack to hang the paper on the wall with, Kurt said quickly, "This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."
He looked back over at the bed, where Kurt was looking at him seriously.
"I mean it," he said, "This isn't just magically better. I spent the better part of this month crying because of you, and I'm not going to just forget that."
"I completely understand that," Blaine said. "And I'll be here when you're ready." With that, he grabbed the pen again and leaned over to the wall and, between "I promise to help him win at board games" and "I promise to make goofy jokes to make him laugh," he added quickly, "I promise to patiently wait for him whenever he needs me to."
Sitting back down on the bed, he asked, "If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up back here?"
Kurt nodded. "See, here's the thing," he said, sitting up. The smirk on his face made Blaine wonder about what it was he was about to say. "I am not here because I want to be." He paused there to give him an overexaggerated look that left no question in Blaine's mind about whether or not Kurt wanted to be there.
"It just so happened," Kurt continued, gesturing vaguely yet animatedly at the same time, "that my father and I were looking through the contract the other day, and noticed a little tidbit. It says that officials must be notified when a transfer of ownership occurs, but you know what else it says?" He looks at Blaine and then nods slightly, as if confirming that he did not know what else the contract said. "It says that direct family of a pet cannot own said pet. So really, I have to be here. Twist my arm."
"Totally against your will," Blaine said, nodding.
"Totally against my will," Kurt repeated. They looked at each other for a few seconds until Kurt cracked, his smirk growing into a grin and then bursting into a laugh. He takes a moment to compose himself, then looks back at Blaine sternly, "But I actually am mad at you still, no matter how giddy seeing you again makes me, alright? This isn't just going away immediately, okay? Just… remember that."
Blaine nodded, gesturing back at the addendum he had made on the paper on the wall. "Of course," he said. "I completely and utterly respect that."
"Good," Kurt said, glancing at the clock on Jeff's desk. "Now, your Latin class is letting out, and Jeff said Nick attended today, and so I think I need to pay him a visit." With that, he stood up and made his way out of the room, just as graceful as ever.
Kurt made good on the fact that he was still upset with Blaine.
He talked to him, sure, but he did his best to avoid doing anything that is too boyfriend-y towards him. Kurt didn't lean over to kiss him in the mornings when he left for class (a habit that Blaine had always quietly been in love with, because it was so easy to imagine them in a more domestic setting, Kurt kissing him as he headed off to work for the day), he didn't kiss him to wake him up, and he certainly did not kiss him just to kiss him. He didn't volunteer himself up for conversation; if Blaine wanted to talk to him, he had to go to him directly, and even then he might not necessarily get a conversation out of it.
The most painful part was the fact that Kurt didn't sleep in his bed. Of course, it was also simultaneously the part that even Blaine would agree was probably the most important. It's hard to keep up being mad at someone when your sleeping body wants nothing more than to be close to them. And even though they were technically still together, it was probably a bit too soon to be as close physically as they were before. That was asking for danger.
No matter how much Blaine told himself that it was for the best and they'd be back together before he knew it, it just hurt to see Kurt curled up on Jeff's bed (though part of that was definitely the jealousy factor, regardless of the fact that Jeff was in a relationship that he "will not ever screw up, never, no") or stretched out on a couch or disappearing in the evenings to God knew where else.
It was frankly just really upsetting, though of course it was. Kurt was, in addition to licking his wounds now that he was back in a familiar setting (which, Blaine realized, was one of his biggest mistakes: Kurt obviously would not have been more comfortable in Lima than in Westerville, because he hadn't been in Lima since he was nine), he was also turning the tables by putting Blaine in the position of suffering he had been in earlier.
Blaine wasn't sure if Kurt was doing that on purpose, but if he was, he deserved it. At least in this situation Blaine was fully aware that Kurt was there, perfectly safe and accessible, and would be returning to him eventually. Kurt, on the other hand, had not been afforded that luxury.
And, no matter how much it hurt, Blaine couldn't resent Kurt for it. He'd be similarly upset if it had been the other way around. And until Kurt said that everything was alright again, it was just a game of strategic smiles and looks and, most of all, hoping and waiting.
Kurt woke up on his third Sunday back at Dalton to find Jeff shirtless and sitting in front of the fan.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Jeff grinned, looking over at him and waving. "You see, Kurt," he said, "It's just about summer. And you know the thing about summer? It is hot as fuck. And today feels like July."
"And you're already losing clothing?"
He blinked, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course I am," he answered. Then, quietly so as to not wake Blaine, who was still unobtrusively snoring, he sang, "It's gettin' hot in hurr, so take off all your—"
"It is nine am," Kurt said.
Glancing over at the clock, Jeff nodded, "Indeed it is."
"Why are you even up?"
"Well, I woke up because it's hot," he said. "Did you know you have extreme body heat? I think it's actually possible that you might actually spontaneously combust." He laughed, leaning backwards as Kurt self-consciously felt his upper arm and forehead with the back of his hand. "Also, I had a mouthful of feathers. Apparently, there is a trick to spooning you—"
"I wish you wouldn't."
"—there is a trick to spooning you that Blaine has and I have not."
"What part of—?"
"We need to go to Wal-Mart," Jeff said, cutting off Kurt before he could finish his sentence.
"Why?" he asked, though he moved to get up anyways.
"Because summer is coming!" When Kurt just stared at him blankly, he added, "There are things you need to buy when summer is coming. You'd think that of all people, you'd understand that."
Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then asked, "It's still morning, though. Are you sure it's not too early?"
"No! Hell no," Jeff said, shaking his head vehemently. "The most… unique people show up at the Wal-Mart early in the mornings and late at night." He grinned then, as if remembering some of the people of questionable character he had seen at Wal-Mart in the past.
Getting up and grabbing clothes, he asked, "Should I wake Blaine?"
Jeff seemed to consider this for a second, but then shook his head. Dropping his head down to speak into the fan so his voice was distorted, he said, "This is going to be just you and me. I think that should be one of our things." There was something in Jeff's look that Kurt couldn't read, but it passed just as quickly as it appeared.
"Alright then," Kurt said, disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed. Before shutting the door, he called out, "Also, Jeff, a shirt wouldn't be a bad idea."
"It's Wal-Mart, though," Jeff protested, glancing down at his torso. "And I'm not even fat."
"Just… shirt? Maybe?"
"Only for you, Kurt," Jeff said, turning and grabbing a t-shirt. He let out a long sigh and pulled it on. "I understand how hard it is to resist temptation when I am shirtless, but since we both have boyfriends, I'll take one for the team here."
"What are you mumbling about?" Kurt called through the door.
"I'm sexy and I know it!"
"Oh God, don't even," Kurt said, and Jeff could just hear him shaking his head. "And Blaine is sleeping. Be polite."
And Kurt didn't know it, but that was exactly what Jeff had been needing to hear. He still put a lot of stock into Kurt and Blaine's relationship, and, while they were technically together as far as he was aware, Kurt hadn't really done much of anything recently to act like it. Jeff understood that it was something about still being mad at Blaine or whatever and that was great and all, except it wasn't. But there were still things like that, little moments to remind him that Kurt was still Kurt and still definitely cared about Blaine. It helped, even in little, insubstantial things like that.
Jeff crossed the room and stood in front of the closed bathroom door, drumming his fingers against it and quietly chanting, "Wal-Mart! Wal-Mart! Wal-Mart!"
When Kurt finally swung the door open, he laughed as Jeff didn't immediately stop drumming his fingers, though it now looked like he was doing spirit fingers. "So, Wal-Mart."
"Wal-Mart!" Jeff repeated with a grin, nodding enthusiastically and throwing an arm around Kurt's shoulders as he led them out the door.
Jeff frowned, talking off a pair of aviators and putting on another pair of sunglasses. "No," he said, replacing the first pair. He nodded, then glanced back at the rack of sunglasses and finding another pair. "This is just unfair."
Kurt glanced over from his seat in the cart ("it's a rule, Kurt, it's a rule"), watching as Jeff juggled putting on the new sunglasses, a pair of yellow Ray Ban-esque Wayfarers, and tried to figure out what to do with the aviators. "Problem?"
"I love all these sunglasses," Jeff said. "And there is no possible way to pick between them."
"Well, when are you ever going to be able to wear those bright yellow sunglasses?" he asked.
"Umm, all day, every day?"
"I'm really not sure that's a great idea," Kurt said, frowning. "For example, they clash with the outfit you're wearing right now."
Jeff glanced down at himself, and shrugged. "I think it makes me look quirky," he said. "Like, 'oh, that Jeff, he doesn't care about being normal. He probably dances around to Shake, Rattle, and Roll in his pajamas when it's raining and he doesn't feel like putting on real shoes so he gets tomato soup delivered'." He laughs at the look Kurt gives him, then says, "I just want to be Zooey Deschanel, okay?"
Kurt sighed. "Oh how I missed your insanity."
"Of course you do," Jeff said. "I am lovable. Just ask Nick." He paused, and then clapped and turned on his heel to face Kurt directly, grabbing the corners of the shopping cart. "That's it! Just ask Nick!"
"Wait, what?"
"The sunglasses!"
Kurt nodded, watching as Jeff struggled with trying to hold two pairs of sunglasses and his cell phone. "Here," he said, holding out his hand to Jeff.
"Thanks, bro," Jeff said, glancing down at his hands. He handed the Wayfarers to Kurt and puts on the aviators, tapping out a quick message to Nick to inform him that his opinion was necessary. "Could you please…?" When Kurt nodded, he leaned forward and pointed to a button. "Push that button on the side to take a picture." With that said, he stepped back and held up thumbs up for the camera. Once Kurt took the picture, he took the phone back and sent the picture to Nick. Switching out the aviators for the wayfarers, he repeated the process.
A question had been nagging at Kurt ever since he had returned from Lima, and he decided that now, as Jeff fidgeted with his phone as he waited for Nick's reply, was as good a time as any to ask. "How did that, you know, actually happen? With Nick, I mean."
Jeff blinked. "I told you, he unleashed a bunch of pigs on campus for me, and—"
"I know, and that is really sweet, but…" Kurt frowned, furrowing his brow as he tried to find the correct words for what he was trying to say. "You don't just become boyfriends with someone because he did something nice for you."
"Oh," Jeff said, clicking his tongue. "I see. You want to get in my head, and see my feelings."
"If you don't mind."
Jeff glanced at his phone. "Well, as you know, Nick and I are best friends. We're inseparable. So, you know, that's a pretty good starting place. And, well, the week or so after your… departure, let's say, were pretty emotionally-charged for all of us."
"All of you?" Kurt asked with a frown. He had known that Blaine had done some moping; Nick had made sure that he knew that, but part of Kurt had overlooked the possibility of anyone else being as affected by his absence.
"Yep," Jeff said. "I'm not too proud to admit it. I was a bit lost."
Kurt blinked, watching Jeff curiously. He had no reason to lie about it, Kurt figured, and he was oddly touched.
"And it started me thinking about Blaine, and how he justified it in his mind," Jeff continued, "You know, that big self-sacrificing thing. And I started to think about that in terms of myself, you know? I thought to myself, I could never do that. I could never sacrifice my happiness for someone else's. But we'll get back to that."
Jeff pulled off the sunglasses, looking at them as he bit his lip, trying to figure out how to form his thoughts into words. "And, like, Blaine was just so sad. Like, he was a fucking wreck, and he probably wouldn't want me telling you that, but he was. And I was just wondering if I'd ever have anyone that I would be that bent out of shape over being without," he said. An involuntary smile crossed his lips as he spoke, and almost bashfully he turned his head so Kurt wouldn't notice. "And somewhere in the middle of all that, there's Nick. Just… I mean, you know Nick. Whatever else he is, he's a sweetheart. So he's here, being so damn sweet and cute and nice and he's comforting me even though he's upset about you being gone, too. And it starts to get me thinking that, you know, that's him. He's the one I'd give everything up for, put his happiness before mine if I had to—not that I ever think I will have to, but I would in a fucking heartbeat. Just the thought of losing him made me ache, but I knew I'd be willing to do it if I thought that that was what was best. I thought to myself that if I was in Blaine's shoes, I would have no idea what to do."
Kurt blinked at him, trying to process everything that Jeff was saying. He knew that a lot went on in Jeff's head, and as much as it didn't seem like it a lot of the time, he was a fairly logical guy.
Seeing that he had Kurt's attention, Jeff couldn't help but give a little nudge. "I mean, Blaine didn't necessarily make the right choice, but he did it with feeling. He was so concerned about emotionally losing you that he physically gave you away." He paused for a second to make sure that it made at least half as much sense out loud as it did in his head before continuing, "But anyways, Nick. So, I've got all these feelings rising up and, I mean, they had been for a while, if I'm being completely honest, and then he goes and pulls off a prank that was, well, for me. And that was just this big ole explosion of feelings and I knew that there wasn't a question about it anymore; I had to kiss Nick, I had to let those feelings out. I couldn't wait another second, I had to do it."
His phone finally buzzed in his hand, and he glanced down at it. "And, I guess, that's the story." He smiled as he pocketed the phone and put the aviators back on the rack. He held up the yellow sunglasses with a grin. "These glorious sunglasses win!"
"They're pretty tacky," Kurt commented.
"But they're fun," Jeff said. "And Nick said they complimented my hair, so."
Kurt seemed to consider this for a second, and then sighed. "Okay," he said, "I'm not even going to fight you on that one."
"Now that we've gotten suitably deep for," Jeff checked his watch, "eleven in the morning—how the hell did we pass two hours already?—we need some other important summer amenities."
"You realize you're going home for the summer, don't you?" Kurt asked. This was, admittedly, another thing he had thought about. They all lived relatively close together, in the grand scheme of things (which wasn't really saying much, but anything within the state was really minor, when it came down to road trips), but during the summer they wouldn't all be immediately available, just a few doors down.
"Well, sure," Jeff said, navigating the cart past a few aisles, seemingly in search of something specific. "But one can never be too prepared." He turned, finding himself face to face with a few shelves of sunscreen. "Do you know anything about sunscreen?"
Kurt glanced at the bottles on the shelves. "Definitely get a high SPF."
Jeff nodded, reaching out to grab a bottle. "This one," he said, "has a picture of a child with its butt prominent. I, too, am concerned about my butt." He nodded to himself again, and then set the bottle in the cart by Kurt's feet.
"Get aloe," Kurt said, gesturing to a few feet down the row where there were bottles of aloe.
"Oh, true," Jeff said, nodding as he leaned down to grab a bottle. "I like your dedication to the cause."
Kurt shrugged. "I'm pale," he said, "I know what happens."
Jeff laughed loudly, turning the cart sharply at the end of the aisle. "We are having a bro day, Kurt," he announced. "We are going to spend all day shopping, because that is a manly, bro thing to do. Plan? Plan."
Somehow, it was dark out by the time that they got back to Dalton. Kurt didn't even wonder how that had happened, was just glad that he was finally back. Spending time with Jeff normally was a bit draining, but he now had a resolve that had made spending a lazy (or as lazy as one could get with Jeff) day even more trying.
It was Jeff's fault. I couldn't want another second, I had to do it. His speech had given him feelings that he couldn't shake all day; feelings of urgency and love towards Blaine and God, he had already wasted so much time.
Jeff disappeared off to Nick's room and Kurt didn't ask how much of that was about him wanting to see him and how much was about giving Kurt and Blaine privacy.
Upon entering their room, Kurt was disappointed to find the room empty save for a note from Blaine on the front of the TV, explaining that he was out on the lawn, stargazing. Kurt smiled fondly at the note (of course Blaine was stargazing), then turned to leave the room once more, wondering if anyone ever enforced bed checks.
Kurt had to almost entirely walk around the building in his attempt to look for Blaine, and he started to worry that Blaine was not still out there. And that was just not okay, because Kurt needed to talk to Blaine that instant. When he finally saw someone lying in the grass, looking up at the sky, he burst into a sprint to cross the distance.
"Hi," he said, slightly breathlessly as he flopped down on the ground beside Blaine.
"Kurt!" Blaine said, sounding surprised to see him.
"Blaine!" Kurt replied, grinning at him.
The look on Blaine's face told Kurt that he wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but he held back. "So… where were you all day?"
"Wal-Mart," Kurt said. "Jeff said that it'd be a 'bro day'."
"Ah," Blaine said. Kurt could feel him slightly shaking as he moved his head to rest on Blaine's shoulder. "That sounds… fun."
"It was," Kurt said. "I missed you, though."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," he said, moving his arm to lie across Blaine's torso and hug him close. "I always miss you."
"I always miss you, too," Blaine replied, though there was a bit of confusion in his voice.
"I'm not mad at you anymore," he said. "And right now, I just really want to be close to you."
He let out a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around Kurt. "Oh, thank God."
"I love you," Kurt mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against Blaine's shoulder.
"I love you, too," Blaine replied. He lifted a hand to tilt Kurt's head up, and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Kurt sighed happily into the kiss, his tongue tracing across Blaine's lips just to rememorize the taste and feel of them. "I missed this," he said.
"I promise to try to not mess things up like this ever again," Blaine said. "So that you don't ever have to go without."
"Such a gentleman," Kurt replied squeezing down on Blaine's side affectionately.
Blaine's arms tightened around him, and he could feel Blaine's heart pounding. "It's… I'm just so glad you're here."
"I always will be," Kurt murmured in reply, turning his head to look up at the stars. "Know any constellations? 'Cause I don't."
Blaine laughed, and Kurt's insides warmed at the feeling of Blaine's laughter reverberating through his own body. "See those three stars there, in a line?" he asked, reluctantly lifting a hand from around Kurt to point.
"Mm-hmm," Kurt agreed, following the direction of Blaine's finger.
"That'd be Orion's belt," Blaine said. "But other than that, I can't find anything. I'm pretty bad at constellations."
"Better than me," Kurt offered.
"Amazing," Blaine said. "There is something I'm better than you at. Pinch me."
"Shut up," he said, laughing.
"I think you might have to make me," Blaine said teasingly.
"And how would you suggest I do that, hm?" Kurt asked, grinning at him.
"Oh, I don't know," Blaine said. "I'm sure you can come up with something."
Kurt sat up for a second, looking down at Blaine, who was looking back up at him, his eyes just barely catching what little light there was available in the night (but they always, always had that little glimmer to them, especially when he was teasing Kurt). There was still that smile on his face, which probably hadn't disappeared from his face since Kurt had told him he wasn't mad at him anymore. God, Blaine had such a pretty smile. Kurt blinked, biting his lip before allowing himself to just grin. "I'm sorry," he said. "I meant to kiss you."
"And I can't help but notice you didn't," Blaine said, though there was no sign of upset in his tone.
"I just... this is embarrassing."
Blaine blinked. "Kurt, honey, you're talking to me," he said. "My life is just one embarrassing event after another. It can't be that bad."
"Okay," Kurt said, smiling a bit to himself as he continued to look down at Blaine. "I just... I got distracted by you. Like, I just looked at you and I had one of those moments. I completely forgot what I was about to do and I just looked at you and thought how completely, ridiculously lucky I am."
"Oh," Blaine said. In the darkness of the night, Kurt couldn't really tell for sure, but he had a feeling that Blaine was blushing. "I'm not sure about that. I think I'm the lucky one here."
"Trust me," Kurt said, "We've had this argument before. I will never not win-"
"That is debatable," Blaine said, frowning. "You always say you win, but there has never been any proof that you've one.
"Just can't let it go, can you?" Kurt asked, laughing. He dipped down to kiss Blaine's nose.
"Not until you let me win at least once," Blaine said.
"No can do, baby," he said, "I have a record to maintain." He moved so that he was lying on top of Blaine, chest to chest, his wings draped over them like a blanket in the cool night air. "Which reminds me... where are we going now, Blaine?"
Blaine blinked. "I don't have a plan," he said. "I wasn't able to foresee this happening." Kurt blinked at this, wondering if Blaine had thought, even briefly, that Kurt might end up not wanting to take him back.
His heart ached at the thought, leaning up to press a firm kiss to Blaine's lips, trying to convey to him I love you more than anything in the world without words.
When Kurt pulled back, Blaine mumbled, "But this doesn't mean you win."
"I do win that game, though," Kurt said. "I know what the plan is."
"But I don't have a plan," Blaine repeated, confused.
"Except you do. We both know you do, Blaine. It's been written in your eyes since the first time you told me you loved me."
"And what is this plan, exactly?" he asked, lifting up a hand to run his fingers through Kurt's hair.
"This plan, well, it's foolproof," Kurt murmured. "And it's adaptable, forever changing and fixing itself, but the plan itself stays intact perfectly throughout every twist and turn." He smiled fondly as Blaine's brow furrowed. "Your plan, Blaine, is simultaneously simple and exceedingly complicated: forever."
Blaine smiled, grabbing one of Kurt's hands and intertwining their fingers. He kissed the back of Kurt's hand, and whispered into it, "Forever."