A/N: I haven't forgotten about this story, I promise. My muse took an extended vacation, and I've been writing Donutverse stuff with nubianamy, and after On My Way I couldn't get Schue's circle on the stage out of my head, so that's another story going. But I think I've finally got plot hits for finishing this story up. Thanks, y'all, for hanging in with me while my muse got over herself. There should be more frequent updates now. This one is just a short one, to bridge between the Christmas chaos and the spring/summer chapter.
"You can both stay as long as you need to," Kurt's dad said, but Blaine didn't need to hear his mother's reply to know what was going to happen next. His mother's rich laugh was shaky as it followed them up the stairs to Kurt's room.
"Oh, no," she told him and Carole. "I'll be there first thing in the morning. I'll be fighting him tooth and nail. Blaine and I will be fine."
"You will, you know," Kurt sighed as he pulled Blaine into his room and clicked the door closed behind them. "You'll be just fine, because you're so strong. You dealt with him for all this time, and you fought him so hard. I'm so proud of you, for the way you were tonight."
Blaine shook his head against Kurt's chest. "I'm broken, Kurt. You knowthat. I'm just really good at hiding it now."
Kurt's arms were tight around him, holding him up. Holding him together, just like always.
Blaine wasn't sure he wanted to know what Kurt's silence meant, so he just let himself be led over to Kurt's bed, let himself be held, tight and safe and curled into Kurt's body.
"You and your mom are going to be fine. You and I are going to be fine. Just let me love you." Kurt's voice was warm in Blaine's ear, and it was so easythat Blaine didn't even think, he just breathed into the gentleness of Kurt's hands and let himself be taken until he was shuddering and crying and Kurt was right there, still holding him together.
January was messy, the house alternately silent or raging as Blaine's parents tried to figure their shit out without impacting him. He could tell that most of the raging happened during the days when he was at school, because there would be one less glass in the cupboard or a picture frame suddenly without glass on the piano. Nights were silent, his father sleeping downstairs in his office while Blaine and his mother had free reign of the second floor.
On February 1st, there was music in the house. His mother in the kitchen, sipping wine from the bottle as she cooked, sauteeing chicken and garlic and musrooms. "Chicken Marsala," she nodded at him as he came in from an afternoon at Kurt's house, pouring some wine in to deglaze the pan.
"Dad gave in?" Because even through the silence Blaine knewthat all the raging had been over the house.
His mother nodded. "He gave in."
Blaine hadn't expected the relief that flooded his body, and he had to grab the edge of the counter to steady himself.
"I never thought . . ." He let his voice trail off because he knew his mother understood all the things he'd never thought about his life at home.
"I know, baby," she said, putting an arm out and pulling him close. "It's a good thing. I don't know about you, but I can breathe again."
"Yeah," Blaine sighed, and rested his head on her shoulder.
"Here," she said, holding out the spoon for him to taste the sauce. "Try this."
He took a careful taste, and realized only after he'd pronounced the sauce just fine that his taste was tinged with tears.
"Do you want to drive up with me?" Kurt fingered the edges of his audition letter from Baldwin-Wallace, and raised his eyes from his comforter to meet Blaine's.
"Only if you want me to. I know you're going to be nervous, and I don't want to be in the way." Blaine knew why Kurt was asking, so he stopped and almost-held his breath while he waited for Kurt to finish his request.
"I want you to. I'm going to be nervous, and-"
"You need me to keep you calm." Blaine nodded, taking Kurt's hand over the top of the crisp paper.
"Please." Kurt's voice was a little shaky, and Blaine knew it was partly because Kurt hated to admit needing help with things connected to his voice and his ambitions.
"Of course, baby. I would loveto go with you." Blaine shivered as Kurt ran a finger over the back of his hand.
"You should apply," Kurt said, closing his eyes to the motion of Blaine's hand in his hair. "You can do an English major with a creative writing concentration. We could go there together."
Blaine didn't say anything right away, and Kurt jumped at the silence. "I mean, I know it's a little late, but they have rolling admissions and you could use the same essays you sent to Iowa."
"Kurt, slow down." Blaine stilled his hand and tilted Kurt's face up towards his. "I already applied."
"When?"
"Right after New Year's." Kurt's face lit up, but Blaine shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm going to go if I get in. I just thought I'd take a chance."
"Thank you," Kurt sighed. "I didn't think you wantingto go to the same school mattered to me. I mean, we never planned on doing that, even if we both ended up in the city."
"I know." Blaine stretched out next to Kurt, and ran his finger over the pattern on his bracelet. "Does it matter a lot? I mean, if we didn'tgo to the same school, or the same city, what would that mean for us?"
Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine, then, lips gentle and tongue firm, and Blaine thought that maybe nothingmattered as long as Kurt would keep kissing him like that.
"You asked me to marry you and I said yes," Kurt said when he pulled away. "That's the important thing. Everything else, well. We'll figure it out, I guess."