Chapter 12

Once Upon A Time ... Love Was Mine


Kurt wakes up head resting on something warm and soft, and yet so solid, so there. It fills his chest with a strange calm. A level of calm he cannot remember ever having experienced before.

There is a dull ache in his mind like he has known it, once, but cannot quite reach it now, cannot really remember ... only guess at it.

As he comes to, more and more, he finds himself cushioned in warmth, curled into Blaine's side, head resting on Blaine's chest, Blaine's arms around him.

Kurt hears a soft snoring sound coming from behind him which has his limbs freeze in confusion for a moment before he remembers, heart hammering in his chest, that it must be '... Elliott.'

Kurt does not know what or how to feel when he senses Blaine move, his arms shifting to tug Kurt only closer, resting his head against Kurt's sleep-tousled hair, letting out a contented sigh.

And suddenly, with that one sound everything is too much, and Kurt scrambles out of Blaine's arms, almost steps onto Elliott's right leg as he stumbles out of bed, breaths already heaving, skin itching in places it has not for a long time.

It is all new and somehow it is old, and it is definitely, most definitely '... too much.' Kurt's insides turn with the thought and a burning, pressing nausea overcomes him that forces tears from his eyes.

The arms coming around him in the next second do not help, nor the voice of the person they belong to. "Kurt," Blaine hums softly in an attempt to calm the storm he can see the other man trapped in. "Let me help. Please."

The memory rushes to the forefront of his head all at once, before he can answer, and knocks all breath out of him.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispers this time.

"What is it?" Elliott asks tentatively.

Kurt can only shake his head as he allows Blaine and Elliott to guide him back onto their couch where all this had started last night.

"My mom," Kurt whispers to himself. It was like a flash going off behind his eyes burning the image into his mind's eye, his mother's face smiling down at him, as Kurt is cuddled up against a warm, soft surface, the reassuring weight of his mother's arm around him as he listens to her tell him stories, stories he still remembers, stories he remembers he has loved ... always. Far beyond the horizon of his thoughts and memories. "Mom," he whispers to himself, like the word could bring her back, like this one magic word could bring back the feeling, the calm it means you are allowed to feel, being so absolutely sure you are loved.

Blaine sits there, holding Kurt's hand in his, as the other boy just keeps staring ahead into space. Elliott is in the kitchen, putting on some tea to calm everyone's nerves, maybe most of all his own, all of this so much more foreign to him than to Blaine who knows that underneath the surface of the man Elliot has gotten to know is so much more, so much complicated past, pain, problems unresolved.

'I think I remember what it feels like, ... to be loved.' Kurt is almost ashamed of the thought. Rationally, he knows, his dad loves him, and so do Carole and Finn. And Elliott, ... Blaine. It does, however, not change the fact that Kurt cannot remember having felt an affection as deep as he had with his mom in forever. And then this morning ...

... with Blaine.

They will think him a freak, call him a freak behind his back if not to his face. That is the fear. But Kurt cannot help how he feels, if only he could trust, trust enough to say how he feels, how special those simple touches are to him. How ...

... how ..., being held like that is no small feat.

How Kurt fears he would do anything to feel Blaine hold him like that so much more often. And after all these years Kurt still cannot tell if it is Blaine who makes all the difference in this equation or if he could find this calm in someone else's arms.

"Kurt?"

And there is his voice again, soft and warm, reaching Kurt's ears. He croaks out a whispered, breathless "Yeah?" in answer as he realizes he is curled up on the living room couch in Blaine's arms, his insides confusingly warm and content.

"Are you okay?"

And with those three words Kurt knows Blaine is asking not only about just now, last night, but about it all, every little part of Kurt's new life in New York.

They both know they have talked about the facts two dozen times and more, the facts of both their lives here, bands, and schools, and classes. Friends and the lack of roommates, which has had them both happy so far.

But Blaine cannot help wish Kurt closer in his everyday life, present more strongly. The answer he receives from Kurt today, on this morning only sharpening this feeling inside Blaine's core.

"No," Kurt breathes shakily. "No, I'm not."