Chapter Ten
a/n: I know it's been a bit of time between updates, and thanks to all who reviewed and favorited and alerted. I'm not quite satisfied with this chapter - - it's way more romantic in my head than on paper, but here it is and I hope the basic idea comes across. Thanks and please review!
a/n 2: Obviously I don't own Glee or Matt Nathanson's "Come on Get Higher"! Just playing with them for this fic for fun and not profit.
The weeks went by, as they always do whether your heart is broken or stretched across the miles or not. Weeks that were busy, filled with school and friends and drama and songs and moments of near-forgetfulness even with a nagging ache in the middle of Kurt's chest always. Being in love for the first time with someone who possibly could have loved him back, someone who liked being with him too, had turned his dreary existence Technicolor for a brief time. But the movie Kurt imagined of his life was switched back to black-and-white like Dorothy's return to Kansas from Oz now that Blaine was out of his life except as a voice on his phone or typed words on a computer screen or cellphone text. It wasn't the same thing as being with him, feeling the security and comfort and warmth that radiated from him.
The thing that got Kurt through it was the planned-for trip east to Nationals – to New York City. Everyone in the glee club was excited but none more so than Kurt, because this was his chance to see Blaine again. He texted Blaine the date of the competition, and received a promise that Blaine would be in the audience cheering him on. And then a surprise, from Burt.
"We never did get that honeymoon … we were thinking we'd all go out to Manhattan, see you two in Nationals, and … spend a couple weekends in the big city. How's that sound, kiddo? You up for a family honeymoon in the Big Apple?"
Was he up for it.
XXX
Something held him back from letting Blaine know he'd be in New York, not just a day or two for the competition, but for ten days. He told a puzzled Burt that it was so he could surprise Blaine a day earlier than expected.
"Kurt, is it because you don't know if Blaine's going to want to spend more time with you?" Burt asked and Kurt shifted in his seat on the plane, uncomfortable as always when his father somehow showed a little too much insight.
"Well, I'm sure we'll be busy with the competition and I'll want to spend time with you and Carole and Finn … and glee club," Kurt hedged.
"Who you can see anytime back home," Burt observed.
Kurt stared out the window steadily, keenly aware that both Finn and Carole were listening while pretending not to. "I don't want to put pressure on it," he admitted. "See how things go before I make him feel like he has to entertain me for a week."
"Good luck, bro," Finn said softly from across the aisle, and Kurt smiled wanly at him in thanks.
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Kurt scowled impatiently as he walked at a fast clip down the street-lamp lit Greenwich Village sidewalk toward his destination, keenly aware that his father was trailing along behind trying to keep up. "You don't know your way around, it's a big city, Kurt," his Dad had insisted. Carole and Finn were at least a little more understanding, hanging back and strolling slowly so Kurt could at least see Blaine by himself for the first few minutes, but Burt was sticking to him like a barnacle.
Kurt checked the address on his iPhone and nodded. "Down this street," he said, nervous suddenly. Burt put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"It'll be okay, kid, he'll be happy to see you, judging from the phone bill you've racked up talking to him the last couple months."
Kurt smiled tightly and the rest of the family caught up at the entrance of a small bistro.
"So this is it?" Finn asked, smiling down kindly from his immense height at his stepbrother.
Checking his iPhone again quickly for Blaine's Facebook status, Kurt nodded. "Says he's playing a set here tonight, 8 o'clock."
"Are we going in, then?" Carole prompted, and Burt put a reassuring arm around his son.
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They picked their way through the chattering audience to find a small table in the center, squinting in the darkness up at the raised platform with a mike stand and a chair on it. Kurt sat bolt upright in his chair, one knee crossed delicately over the other, twisting his glass in his hands on the low table in front of him. He felt out of place here, in his painstakingly selected last-season D&G blouse, among the throng of hemp shirts and paisley and denim on the crowd chattering and drinking around them. He looked at the cheap printed program announcing an evening of acoustic guitar music by Blaine Corazon, and bit his lip worriedly at the picture of the boy on the front flap. Apparently Blaine was wearing tie-dye tee shirts and jeans now, and his dark hair was longer, wild and unruly over those magnetic eyes he remembered perfectly. He was still beautiful but didn't look like the Blaine he remembered and thought about incessantly these last months.
"I shouldn't have just shown up like this, out of nowhere, it's been three months since I've seen him, everything could have changed," he blurted shakily. He downed the drink and slapped the glass down on the table, jiggling his foot. "What if he isn't happy to see me? What if he has a boyfriend here? Or a girlfriend?"
"A girlfriend? I doubt that much has changed," Burt chuckled.
"You never know," Kurt fretted, gnawing on a knuckle pressed against his mouth.
"Quit worrying, buddy," Finn punched Kurt in the shoulder and leaned over, speaking quietly just under the din so only Kurt could hear. "Jeez, you're so worked up about this guy … guess you've forgotten all about ol' Finn … I'm a little jealous," he said, half-serious. He shook his head with a laugh. "I don't even want to know what that means."
"It means you're insane," Kurt snapped. "And if you don't mind, I'm a little busy freaking out about seeing the love of my life again."
"Well you can stop freaking out 'cause there he is," Finn said, pointing to the stage with a grin.
Kurt's eyes snapped back toward the stage, and his pulse quickened so that he couldn't catch his breath, he was dizzy with the sight of Blaine climbing the step up to the platform, guitar in hand, looking scruffier than he had as a Dalton student but still exuding that calm confidence and sunshiny charisma. The bright, charming smile as he sat down and strummed a few chords was pure Blaine as well, and Kurt watched as if he could never get tired of watching as Blaine introduced himself and launched into his first song, an original. Kurt's eyes were fastened on Blaine's face with rapt attention as he sang and played, lost in the music. Blaine's wide amber eyes scanned the room, meeting the gaze of every audience member in turn, if only for a few moments.
When those honey-colored eyes met his, Kurt stopped breathing and sat staring back with a trembling smile. The strong but graceful hands on the guitar stumbled and stopped playing, and the young musician's voice broke off. Blaine stood up abruptly with a brilliant smile and lit-up eyes, and moved as if to jump down from the platform, before glancing around at the room of murmuring audience members and then sitting back down. Staring into Kurt's face with frank, innocent adoration, he leaned into the microphone and said shakily, "I see a special friend in the audience tonight. Here's a song just for you, Kurt."
He started playing the guitar again, the notes washing out over the room, and Kurt tingled all over with the thrill of being serenaded again. Blaine's voice was tinged with longing as he sang like there was no one else there but the two of them.
I miss the sound of your voice
And I miss the brush of your skin
And I miss the sound of the silence
As you breathe out
And I breathe in
Kurt's face flushed with the memory of that one night they spent clasped in each other's arms, a flashback so intense he could almost feel Blaine's breath against his neck and his arms around his chest again, and he gripped the table tightly.
If I could walk on water
If I could tell you what's next
I'd make you believe
Make you forget
Blaine jerked his head, sending the loose curls flying, and motioned for Kurt to join him on stage, and Kurt knocked over his chair rushing up to join him on stage in time for the chorus, their two voices blending like he always had known they would.
So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
"Now you," Blaine said huskily, and Kurt's treble sang the next verse along with the guitar,
I miss the sound of your voice
The loudest thing in my head
And I ache to remember
All the violent, sweet,
perfect words that you said
Their voices mingled again for the chorus before Blaine stood up and moved within a foot of Kurt and faced him, singing from his heart to Kurt's, and by now they had forgotten their audience and had eyes only for each other,
I miss the pull of your heart
I taste the sparks on your tongue
I see angels and devils
And God, when you come on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Suddenly shy, Kurt's gaze dropped to his hands for the interlude of "sha-la-la las" that came next, sung together with their voices dancing together, and the final chorus. When the final notes rang out and the room erupted in applause, Blaine slung his guitar on his back and closed the remaining gap, taking Kurt in shaky arms. Kurt clung to him desperately, his arms creeping up his back, his face pressed against his neck breathing in his familiar scent … he'd bought a bottle of the obscenely expensive aftershave Blaine used in a desperate attempt to have something familiar and comforting to cling to, but the scent wasn't the same in the bottle or sprayed on himself or on other things … somehow it smelled different on Blaine and it smelled like being home again.
Too soon, Blaine gently pushed Kurt's arms aside and kissed him on the cheek, his eyes melting Kurt's susceptible heart, then softly on the lips, whispering against his mouth, "I can't believe you're really here."
"You have to finish your set," Kurt said, blushing and turning to look shyly at the crowd, most of them smiling and indulgent at the public display of affection between two boys.
Blaine shook his head. "We have to finish our set," he corrected. "Sing with me?"
Kurt nodded, awestruck, and a chair was brought up for him to perch on and sing love song after love song with Blaine, until finally with a flourish on the guitar, Blaine leaned forward and said, "You've been a great audience … thanks to Mr. Kurt Hummel for joining us tonight," as the crowd clamored for one more.
"Sorry," Blaine said, his face falling a little. "Kurt's … on a limited tour this time out and I'd like to show him the City. So good night and thanks," he finished, turning to Kurt and extending a hand. Kurt took it and Blaine asked gently, "Can I interest you in a night on the town?"