Author's Note: See, told you'd they be coming quicker now :) Huzzah for Easter holidays!
Anything you recognise, on a disclaimer note, isn't mine. Tragically.
It was the best of times, it was the
David, I don't think you can use that – Charles Dickens kind of got there before you.
Fine. Long story short, Dalton was pretty awesome – so, on the morning of graduation, it was pretty sombre at breakfast. There were even occasional sniffs – although, let's be honest, most of them were coming from Blaine, who was feeling bereft; Kurt had spent the previous night at home.
"Guys," Blaine muttered, his eyes red rimmed. "I've been thinking..."
"Oh no."
"Oh dear God, no."
"The apocalypse is nigh."
"Lock up your daughters!"
"...Don't you mean sons?"
"Oh, yeah. I guess I just got caught up in the moment."
"Are you finished?" Blaine said irritably; we nodded. "Good. I want to serenade Kurt after graduation."
"Blaine, every time you and Kurt try to incorporate music into your relationship, one of you ends up severely embarrassed. Plus your music taste leaves much to be desired when it comes to Kurt Serenade choices."
"For the last time, I was drunk!" He said hotly, flinging his arms in exasperation. "And I didn't even know I knew all the words to 'Baby Got Back', so I think I deserve some commendation for that."
"Alright, Blaine," I said dubiously. "What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know, a plaque or something?"
"I meant the serenade, you twat."
"Oh. Well, I was thinking 'My Heart-"
"No." Wes said shortly.
"Why not? Celine Dion is a classic!" Blaine replied. Wes sighed.
"It's also cheesy, overdone and has connotations with Leonardo DiCaprio dying. Do you want Kurt to start crying over the death of Jack while you're trying to be romantic? No. Pick something else." So Blaine, in all his nerdy glory, pulled out an A3 sheet of paper, covered in tiny colour coded writing, organised neatly into columns. He consulted the paper.
"What about... 'Your Song', Elton John?"
"Again, overdone," Wes replied, plucking Blaine's song Bible from his hand to read it. "This list would probably be a really good idea if your song choices weren't so-" he stopped abruptly, looked up at Blaine, down at the paper, and then up at Blaine again.
"High School Musical, Blaine?"
"I'll have you know, 'Can I Have This Dance?' is a very romantic-" Wes held up a hand to stop him, leaned across the table and said, his face very close to Blaine's,
"High School Musical, Blaine."
"Yeah, alright." Blaine sighed. "Cross it off."
"Ooh, this one looks promising," I said, pointing to an inoffensive looking song in the middle of the third column. "'Feels Like Home'. I don't recognise it, so it must be vaguely obscure. Hum it, Blaine, see if I do know it." He hummed a few bars; Wes groaned despairingly and put his head in his hands.
"What's wrong with Edwina Heyes?" Blaine said indignantly, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.
"Oh, nothing," came Wes's muffled response in reply. "It's a great song. It's from 'My Sister's Keeper', isn't it?" He carried on without waiting for a reply. "You go ahead, sing a song associated with death as your serenade, see if I care."
"Fine, cross it out. What about... 'Truly, Madly, Deeply?'" I winced.
"Cascada?"
"No, I was going for the Savage Garden version, but now that you mention it, I don't want Kurt thinking I'm singing Cascada to him. Come to think of it, cross Bryan Adams's 'Heaven' off too, he might think I'm singing DJ Sammy." I ran my finger down the list, crossing off various songs as I went along. I paused at 'Every Breath You Take', and then crossed that out too – the lyrics are a little bit creepy to qualify as a serenade worthy song, in my opinion.
"Blaine," Wes said eventually, looking up from the heavily crossed out serenade list I'd handed over. "These songs suck. You can't sing any of these."
"Any of them? Isn't that a bit-"
"Come on, Anderson. We're going to turn to the magic that is the internet."
"This is hopeless," Blaine said, wheeling around the room in my computer chair. "All these songs are about sex and girls." We had done what anybody would do in our situation – typed 'love songs' into Google. "Can I not just do Disney?"
"No, Blaine," I said, scrolling down yet another 'Top 100 Love Songs of All Tyme!' list.
Uh, spelling.
Those things were beginning to numb my brain. "We're trying to broaden your musical horizons, Blaine, and we can't do that if you insist on repeatedly singing Disney songs." I silently flicked through more websites, before turning to trusty YouTube. "We'll YouTube Hop, see if we can find anything."
"You know," Wes said contemplatively. "The last time I YouTube Hopped, I came across Rebecca Black. You should sing that, Blaine." Blaine chose to ignore Wes, instead humming 'A Whole New World' under his breath whilst texting Kurt, who was on his way back up to Dalton with his family.
"Hey, what about musicals?" I said, fingertips hovering over the keyboard. Wes shook his head and replied,
"Nah, that's expected. We need to think outside the box." He pushed my hands out of the way, typed in 'Love Songs', and started flicking through the videos.
"This isn't going to work – I'll just have to sing something about how much I want to get in his pants. Or adultery – there are plenty of songs about that, right?"
"Blaine, why would you choose to sing a song about adultery to your boyfriend? Do you have some voyeurism fetish?" Blaine slowly wheeled over to me, glared at me, and then slapped me around the head.
"Hey, Blaine... I think I found something." Wes turned up the sound on his laptop, and we all listened, entranced, to the song that was playing.
"This is... This is perfect. Was this written for Klaine?" I said, staring at the screen in awe, thanking the Gods of Music, Luck and Klaine that Wes had stumbled across this.
"You can play your guitar and everything, Blaine!" Wes said excitedly, practically wetting himself with excitement.
Was not.
"You two are pretty naive if you think I can learn to play it that quickly," Blaine said doubtingly, looking at the screen dubiously.
"Go get your guitar now, I'll look for the tab online." Wes frantically started typing away on the keyboard.
"Whoa, wait, who said I was doing this song?" We both looked at him incredulously. "Alright, I know, of course I'm doing it. But there's no need to assume." He tried to pout as he left the room, but I could distinctly hear him singing the song to himself as he walked down the hall.
"This is it..." I said, staring around the hall, where families were gathered around their children. "I can't believe I won't see you again." Wes made a disbelieving noise.
"I'm going to college, David, I'm not dying. Just think of it this way – we'll never have to hear one of Blaine's 'Kurt' playlists again. Speaking of Klaine, where've they gone?" We looked around (I used the chance to subtly wipe my eyes)
...Me too.
Oh, Wes, you do care!
Alright, alright, let's not get overly sappy now.
As we were looking for Blaine (we found Kurt in deep discussion with Finn), my phone vibrated in my pocket – it was a message from Blaine. It read,
'I know you two will attempt to spy on us anyway, so thought I'd let you know that I'm in the rehearsing room. Hurry up and hide yourselves before I text Kurt ;) –B'
Permission to spy. This was a pivotal moment in our lives, and one we cherished forever.
We looked around to check that nobody was watching us, and then we slipped out of the hall. Wes sniggered.
"What?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing. It's just... So many years in expensive schooling, and it seems the only thing I've learnt to do is spy on my gay best friends – and now he's giving us permission, it's left that skill a bit redundant." I snorted; I knew exactly what he meant. Ask me to hold a conversation with a French person? I'd probably just shout at them in English. Ask me the best way to spy on Blaine? I could give you a twelve-step plan, including a map, tick sheet and all of New Directions phone numbers.
I pulled open the rehearsal room door, and sure enough, there was Blaine, pacing nervously back and forth. He shot us a forced, anxious grin and gestured vaguely around the room.
"He's not here yet."
"Yes, Blaine, we can see that. Are you alright, mate?" Wes said, raising an eyebrow – neither of us had seen Blaine look quite so frazzled before.
"Huh? Yeah. Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because Wes was the one that spoke, yet you're looking at me." I put the back of my hand on Blaine's forehead. "Do you feel ill? Usually you can tell us apart." He pulled away irritably.
"I'm fine, just nervous. What if he doesn't like the song? What if I mess up the chords? What if I lose my voice?"
"Blaine?" Wes shouted, in order to get Blaine to stop ranting. When he did, he carried on quietly. "Calm down. Kurt loves you, remember? He's not going to think any less of you if you happen to mess up – which you won't, by the way. If anything, he's possibly going to jump you the moment you start singing. So, take a deep breath, text Kurt, and get ready for mind-blowing sex. Only... give us time to get out before then, yeah? We're spies, not perverts."
"Right... Yeah. Okay, behind the curtain."
"Blaine? You in here? I got your text..." Kurt came into the room, smiling widely when he saw Blaine sitting on the piano stool.
We'd told him to sit down so that he wouldn't be worn out from pacing when Kurt turned up.
"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said, smiling just as widely. He stood up, and gestured to the stool. "Sit down, I've got some things I want to say." It said a lot about how much Kurt's confidence in their relationship had grown, that he didn't immediately question whether Blaine was going to break up with him.
I never did understand why they were both so worried about that. They were obviously besotted with each other, everyone could see that.
"Kurt, you know I've never been very good with romance, or expressing my feelings." Kurt sniggered from experience, and I had to stifle a laugh too. "And, as I always do, I've turned to song to try to help me. But... And this has never happened before... It was so difficult, trying to find a song that expressed how I feel about you in verses, a chorus and a chord progression. So difficult, in fact, that I made a table of possible serenade choices and everything." He grinned ruefully. "Eventually, I found a song that comes close to how I feel."
I'm glad he didn't say anything about us helping him find a song – that's not a very romantic idea, your boyfriend's best friends choosing his serenade song.
I was convinced he was going to tell Kurt – and then all hell would probably have broken loose.
"Oh, Blaine, that's... Wait, you haven't brought any Warblers with you. This is new." Kurt grinned cheekily, and Blaine chuckled.
"I wanted to try something different." He leant around the piano, pulling out the guitar he had hidden just before Kurt had walked in. Kurt stifled a gasp, bringing his hands up to his mouth, and I smiled. "In case the following doesn't make it painfully clear... I love you, Kurt Hummel." He took a deep, calming breath,
I crossed my fingers, and possibly grabbed your hand for support. Sorry about that.
No problem, I was literally about to do the same thing. I felt like a pre-teen.
And began to play.
"One word, that's all you said
Something in your voice caused me to turn my head.
Your smile, just captured me
And you were in my future as far as I could see
And I don't know how it happened, but it happened still
You ask me if I love you, if I always will." Blaine, who had been looking nervously at his own feet, looked up at Kurt, whose eyes were wet and lips were pulled back into a huge smile. Blaine smiled back, and plunged into the chorus, maintaining eye contact.
"Well you had me from hello
I felt love start to grow
The moment that I looked into your eyes you won me
It was over from the start, you completely stole my heart
And now you won't let go
I never even had a chance, you know
You had me from hello." Kurt stood up and made his way over to Blaine, who had somehow made his way into the middle of the room. Just as Blaine opened his mouth to sing the next verse Kurt jumped in, effectively silencing Blaine.
"Inside I built a wall
So high around my heart, I thought I'd never fall
One touch, you brought it down
The bricks of my defences scattered on the ground
And I swore to me I wasn't going to love again
The last time was the last time I'd let someone in." Both of them had tears streaming down their faces as they looked at each other, smiling, and I heard Wes sniff quietly. However, I didn't get a chance to see if he was crying, because Kurt and Blaine started to sing the chorus together, and mushy Klaine was something I was not willing to give up seeing.
"But you had me from hello
I felt love start to grow
The moment that I looked into your eyes you won me
It was over from the start, you completely stole my heart
And now you won't let go
I never even had a chance, you know
You had me from hello." Kurt, by this time, was crying a little bit too hard to sing coherently, so Blaine carried on singing on his own, looking deep into Kurt's eyes.
"That's all you said
Something in your voice caused me to turn my head
You had me from hello
You had me from hello," Kurt wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, in order to join in with the last line.
"Oh, I've loved you from hello." They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, before Kurt practically collapsed sobbing onto Blaine's shoulder . For once, Blaine actually interpreted the situation correctly, and hastily wrapped his arms around Kurt, pushing his guitar out of the way so that it was resting on his back. They stood with their arms around each other tightly for a few minutes, before Kurt said quietly,
"Oh God, Blaine, I can't believe it's over, and we'll hardly see each other any more, and I'll miss you so much..." Gently, Blaine pushed Kurt away so he could look him in the face.
"Kurt Hummel, do you honestly think I'm going to let a little thing like distance get in the way? We'll only be an hour away from each other – that's less of a distance between here and Lima, and we got around that, right?" Kurt sniffed.
"Yeah, I know... It's just... I'm so happy, Blaine, and every time I'm remotely happy something happens to change all of that, and I'm just scared that..."
"That I'll leave?" Blaine said astutely (Damn, he was on a role). Kurt nodded. "I promise you, I am not going anywhere. I'll be around as long as you want me. In fact..." Blaine blushed heavily.
"What? Blaine, you can't just leave it hanging like that." The look of pure love they shared between each other was so adult and mature that I had to frantically stifle a gasp, and I wiped my eyes with my hand.
"I... Is it weird that I'm planning our future together? Like, ten, fifteen years down the line?" Blaine, who was looking down at his shoes during his confession, missed the look of unadulterated joy on Kurt's face – but he didn't miss the searing kiss he pulled him into.
Good job, really.
"I've been planning different colour schemes for our wedding," Kurt whispered confidentially, before leaning in to kiss Blaine again.
"David," Wes whispered almost silently to me. "We need to try to leave. It's probably going to get pretty heated in here, and as much as I love Kurt and Blaine, I don't want to see them naked."
"Never fear, for I have a plan." I whipped out my phone (pre-emptively put on silent), and texted Blaine with a 'We need to get out – u need privacy. Go somewhere less open.' Less than a few seconds later, Blaine's phone buzzed, and Kurt moaned.
I seriously thought, at that moan, that Blaine was going to forget we were there and have wild sex on the floor.
"Just leave it, Blaine," he said, nibbling on his ear. Blaine stifled a groan, and managed to croak out,
"It'll be David or Wes, wondering where we are. We should go somewhere else, so they won't f-find us easily... Oh, God, Kurt, you need to stop doing that while I'm trying to conversate." Kurt pulled away, grinning.
"'Conversate', Blaine?" Blaine mock glared at Kurt.
"Shut up, that's what happens when I'm distracted. Now come on, we're going to go say goodbye to my dorm room. Then your dorm room. Then possibly Wes and David's dorm room." Kurt snickered evilly, let Blaine take him by the hand, and they both ran out of the room. As soon as we were sure they were gone, Wes (whose eyes were very red, children of Klaine) whimpered.
"I can't believe they're going to go christen my bed. I didn't even get laid on my bed!" I turned to him, confused.
"But what about when you were with Santana? I thought you took her back to our room while I was on holiday with my parents?" He squirmed uncomfortably.
"Yes, I technically took her back to our room... And yes, I got laid... But it wasn't specifically on my bed." I stared at Wes, first blankly, then in horror.
"Oh my god, you had sex in my BED?"
"It wasn't intentional! It's just the fact that your bed is closer to the door!"
"There aren't excuses for you behaviour, Wesley! That's... Urgh!"
The four of us stared up at the school.
"You guys are coming to visit me this weekend, right?" Kurt said, his hand seemingly glued to Blaine's. I rested an arm on his shoulder and snorted.
"Please, you're going to be sick of us by the end of summer, believe me. We'll be at your house so many times that your parents will think they adopted us in their sleep."
"Looking forward to it." Kurt turned to Blaine. "You're coming round tomorrow, right?" Blaine nodded eagerly, and Wes let out a sulky humph.
"Why don't we get to come round tomorrow?" Kurt grinned in a very similar manner as to how he had when Blaine suggested they christen our dorm room.
"Well, you can if you want, but Blaine and I were planning on having passionate sex in every room of my empty house while my family were out." Blaine spluttered everywhere, while Wes and I roared with laughter.
"Ah, Hummel, knew we'd have an effect on you eventually. Just think, when you first came to Dalton, you blushed if you so much as thought the word sex. Now look at you-" I faked a sniff. "Our baby Quite Pretty Kurt all grown up and crude. I'm so proud."
"I – wait, 'Quite Pretty Kurt'?" He looked to Blaine, but Wes shook his head.
"No, actually, that particular one was Jeff. Blaine's are more along the lines of 'Unf', and 'Dayamn', and 'Be right back, guys, going to go stare at Kurt's face'."
"Kurt, I'll have you know, I'm much more eloquent than that."
"Blaine, did you or did you not once apologise for not listening in World History by saying 'I'm sorry, sir, I was thinking of Kurt Hummel's face'?"
5 Years Later
Looking through your parents' attic is a depressing business, David thought grumpily. It's like they packed up everything they could find of me and shoved it up here, until I could come and collect it.
So far, all David had found was his old baseball glove from when he was thirteen. And his parents had promised that there were belongings up here that he'd 'hate to throw out'. Sure.
Half an hour in to his delve in the attic, David came across a black bag, and sniggered to find his previous laptop. It was an archaic thing, yet, to his satisfaction, it still whirred in to life when he sat down to have a nose around his old documents.
He gasped at one in particular, accidentally inhaling most of the dust in the attic, and frantically hit speed dial one on his phone.
"David? What the hell, man! You know I'm sleeping during the days! I swear, this night shift is-"
"Guess what I found, Wes! I was up in my parents' attic, and guess what I found?"
"I dunno, your old porn stash?"
"Please, I took that with me to the flat. I found my old laptop."
"Well that's great. Brilliant, even. Now buggar off and let me sleep."
"It still has the 'Chronicles of Kurt and Blaine' on there."
"...I'll be over as soon as I can."
Author's Note: This'll be brief – all the songs Blaine lists here? I'd love somebody to serenade me with them. So please don't flame me if I 'insulted' your favourite love song. Odds are, it's one of my favourites, too.
Oh, and just so you know, I've now got a definitive idea of where I'm going with this, for the first time in... Well, ever. For the most part, I've just been going where my fingers take me, but now there's a plan. I feel like David.
