knock knock knock
"BLAINE! Open the door!"
Kurt waited a few moments and then pounded on the door harder.
"Come on, Blaine! I'm really worried about you!"
He jiggled the door handle just in case.
"Excuse me?"
Kurt spun around and almost knocked over a tiny, elderly woman who had somehow managed to sneak up on him.
"Oh, you scared me there for a second," he said, hand over his heart.
"I'm sorry. I tend to be pretty light on my feet." She paused and looked Kurt up and down from head to toe, as if she was sizing him up. "Are you pretty good friends with Blaine?"
"I like to think so," Kurt said carefully. "We haven't know each other for real long, but he never seems to hold anything back when we're talking."
"I'm his neighbor, Beverly Olsen."
Kurt stuck his hand out in greeting. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm Kurt."
Beverly scoffed at his formality. "Just call me Bev. I'll cut right to the chase - I think something's wrong. On Monday I heard a bunch of shouting and loud noises coming from the hallway. I snuck a peek through the peephole, and I saw that man of his and a couple of friends with some suitcases and a bunch of boxes."
"Oh no," Kurt said. "You think...?"
Bev nodded, sure that Kurt was thinking the same thing she was. "Yeah, I think. I saw Blaine bounce into that apartment Monday evening, feet barely touching the ground, and I haven't heard a single sound since then. This building, though expensive to get into, isn't particularly well constructed, so I hear things, and I haven't heard his front door open or close this whole week."
"So that means he's probably..."
"Still in there," Bev finished.
"Shit," Kurt swore.
"I won't tell anyone if you won't, but he keeps a spare key along the top edge of his door."
Kurt nodded and went over to Blaine's door. He reached up, and sure enough, the key was there.
"Please let me know what's going on. Here's my number, you can text me."
Kurt raised his eyebrow; the seniors of her obvious age that he had met barely had cable, let alone cell phones that they used to text people with.
Bev caught his incredulous expression. "Oh please, Kurt. I have grandchildren. I am totally with it!"
Kurt smiled. He liked this lady a lot already.
He took a deep breath and inserted the key into the lock. "Here goes nothing..."
Once inside, he called out to Blaine again. "Blaine, where are you? Are you okay? It's me, Kurt."
He had never been inside Blaine's place before - Blaine had only ever been to Kurt's shared apartment - but even Kurt could tell there was something weird going on. He wandered around Blaine's home looking for his friend. He passed the kitchen, a bit taken aback by its condition. He had never guessed Blaine to be a slob, but apparently there was a first time for everything.
He continued on through the apartment, peeking into each room he went by. The living room was in shambles as well, a startling number of beer bottles strewn across the coffee table. He found a small bedroom on his left. It was obviously going to be the nursery - it was half painted in a soft, pale green with a creamy white chair rail and matching old fashioned wooden rocking chair in the corner. Had Kurt not been so worried about Blaine, he would have had oodles of decorating and design ideas to share, but he barely gave them a second thought before he moved toward the last door.
The door's path was blocked by a splintered wooden picture frame and shattered glass. It was photo side up, so Kurt sneaked a glance at it. Under regular circumstances, he would have awww'ed and cooed over it - Blaine and Josh were holding each other close, each of them mid-belly laugh, pure joy spread across their faces. It was a stunning scene. Instead, he could do nothing but get choked up for the man who was becoming one of his dearest friends. There was only one explanation for the state of the photo and Blaine's home in general, and Kurt was afraid to see how it had affected the man himself.
Kurt pushed open the door, the broken glass shards tinkling from the movement, and gasped at what he saw.
Blaine was lying on the bed curled up in the fetal position, facing the door, in a nest of rumpled bedding. Kurt was pretty sure that Blaine was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing at the appointment that was almost five days past. The circles under Blaine's eyes were so dark that he almost looked as though he had black eyes, and fresh tear tracks shone amongst the dried ones on Blaine's cheeks. Blaine's body was twitching and trembling in his sleep. As Kurt stood there and watched his friend, his heart breaking for him, Blaine began to whimper and cry out.
"Please don' go, Joshie, please..."
Kurt approached the bed cautiously and delicately perched on the edge of it.
"Blaine," he called out softly, his hand reaching for Blaine's.
"Wake up Blaine, it's me, Kurt."
"No Kur, go'way. S'all yer fault he left me..."
Kurt briefly felt as if he had been punched in the gut, but he kept telling himself, Blaine's asleep, he's not responsible for what he says in his sleep, he doesn't think that...
...Does he?
Kurt wiped the negative thinking from his mind as much as he could and lightly grasped Blaine's shoulder, gently shaking him. "Blaine, come on, please wake up!"
He waited a few moments and then shook him a little harder. Blaine practically jumped out of his clothes, he was so startled.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry I scared you, Blaine," Kurt apologized.
Blaine briefly looked expectantly at Kurt, but then his face crumbled and he melted into Kurt's shoulder.
"He's gone," Blaine cried.
Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and pulled him close into a tight hug, causing Blaine to weep even harder. "I know, sweetie, I know."
Blaine cried in Kurt's arms for what seemed like hours. Kurt's body already ached from the pregnancy, and his joints were screaming from being in the same position for so long, but he ignored it all.
After some time, Blaine's sobs faded into silence, a hitched breath or a sniff punctuating it here and there. Kurt, though happy to comfort his friend, breathed an internal sigh of relief when Blaine stirred and pulled away from him at last. He was stiff and several limbs had fallen asleep.
"I'm sorry," Blaine croaked.
"Nuh uh, nope. No apologies are being accepted 'cause they're not needed."
"Look at me. Thirty years old and still hysterical over a breakup just like a damn teenager."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.
"Uh, no offense or anything," Blaine backpedaled.
Kurt cracked a small smile. "None taken. I'm well aware that I act more like a grandparent than I do a nineteen-year-old. Besides, you guys had been together for a long time. You are allowed to take it hard."
Blaine began to tear up again. "Shit, how do I have any tears left?"
"We should probably get you hydrated - you're gonna be crying dust soon the way you're going at it," Kurt joked. He handed Blaine the nearly-depleted box of tissues from his bedside table and jogged to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He grabbed a granola bar for Blaine as well and returned to Blaine's room to give them to him.
"Well, I should probably go," Kurt said, looking hesitantly at the clock on his phone. "I've been here awhile and my roommates are probably wondering where the hell I am." He started heading for the door when a quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Stay with me."
"Huh?" Kurt said, flustered.
"Stay with me. Please? I'm tired of being alone, and it's obvious I'm not very good at it," Blaine said, gesturing at the shambles his room had become. "I don't have a guest bedroom anymore, but I have a really big bed... oh my god, I'm so sorry, that was inappropriate. I can sleep on the couch, yeah. Definitely can sleep on the couch. Can't have a pregnant guy on my couch, that would be against some sort of 'carrier of my child' code or something, I think - "
"Blaine!" Kurt scolded.
"Oops."
"The rambling with you never ends, does it?"
"Not really, no."
Kurt was quiet for a few moments, thinking. Yes, Blaine had become a good friend, but since they were two gay men, and Kurt knew that Blaine was attracted to him, and he knew HE was most definitely attracted to Blaine, it probably was inappropriate to be staging sleepovers, especially since Blaine had just ended a long-term relationship. He was just about to tell Blaine so when he looked over at him. Blaine's eyes were downcast, his fingers idly picking at a pill in the fabric of his bedspread. The dejected look on his face made him look so young, like he was just a teenager again. As Kurt opened his mouth to tell Blaine no, Blaine looked up at him, an unintentional puppy dog look on his face.
Kurt was screwed.
"Okay. Let me just - oof."
Kurt suddenly found himself with Blaine wrapped around him. "Thank you."
"Ugh, no thank you. Blaine, if we're gonna do this slumber party thing, I have conditions. For one thing, you reek. Look at you - your hair is a rat's nest, your clothes are five days old, and that stoner guy who creeps around in Central Park smells like a daisy compared to you."
Blaine lifted an arm and smelled his armpit and made a face - Kurt had a point, he was definitely ripe.
"I could shower," he acquiesced.
"Yes, you certainly could. Now, I'm gonna lay in this bed with you 'cause neither one of us needs to sleep on a couch, which means that you are also going to change, and preferably burn, the bedding in here. Lastly, you're going to do something about all the trash in the kitchen and living room. We live in New York, Blaine. You've practically left out engraved invitations for roaches and rats."
"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll clean up," Blaine said, not without a slight smile on his lips. He was beginning to love Kurt's take charge attitude; he hoped it was a trait he would pass on to the baby.
"I'm gonna run to my apartment real quick to check in and grab a few things and I'll be back here in an hour, okay? Can I trust you to get this place back together by then?"
"Yes Dad," Blaine teased.
It took a little more than the hour that Kurt was gone to get himself and his home cleaned up, but since he had made a "valiant effort," in Kurt's words, he agreed to help Blaine with the rest. Kurt insisted on making the bed even though by then it was about eight o'clock at night, saying, "Your bedding is fabulous, Blaine. You should enjoy it all you can." Really, in Kurt's eyes, it was an excuse to sit on the bed rather than get in the bed for as long as possible. He was worried about the awkwardness of sharing a bed - No, sleeping in the same bed. They were NOT sharing a bed. That implied intimacy, which they weren't.
Intimate, that is.
Oh crap, this is gonna be a long night, Kurt thought to himself.
A/N: Lookie all the reviews and followers! I've never had this much attention so quickly to one of my fics before. Y'all must love your mpreg, dontcha? :)