One more to go! I see an end in sight – and hopefully it is here by tomorrow! I still have that paper to write but I'm thinking if I can put it off until the morning…
Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. It explores a little more of Blaine's past and his issues with the decisions he's made. It's the last bit of angst in this fic, I'll be totally honest. I'm not leaving these two not happy on the end of this one. If there's a sequel (I'm not saying there will be one just because the idea is there!), but if there is one, then I will tear their happy little world to shreds. Until then, you'll just have to deal with the fluff in the last chapter. ;)
Also of note—I changed the rating yet again because there's some more heavy language usage here as well as a brief make out session, which could possibly lead to more in the next chapter if my beta has her way… But just so I don't get called out not adding a warning when there should be…
As always, thanks for your continued support on this endeavor!
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Kurt wakes up to the extremely unpleasant and outright disgusting sounds of someone puking. He blinks at the gray light of dawn directly overhead, fully disoriented at first, until he remembers falling asleep on the bow of the ship. He turns his head in the direction of the wretched puking noises to see Blaine leaning over Kendrick, who is just kind of sprawled on his lounge, head over the edge, throwing up on the deck.
Wonderful.
"I think I'm dying!" Kendrick moans before the gagging hits him once more.
"You're not dying," Blaine assures him gently, hand rubbing over Kendrick's back. "You're just suffering the consequences of too much champagne."
Kendrick coughs, and then says, "Don't ever say that word again!"
Blaine makes a soft, comforting sound, still rubbing his back. On the far side them, Jared, Nick and Byron are sitting up, heads in their hands, looking mildly discomforted at the sounds their fellow Warbler is making.
"Someone should go find a crew member," Blaine suggests. "So they can get this cleaned up."
"To hell with that." Jared gets up. "He's the one who puked. He can clean it up!"
"Way to be sympathetic, Jared." Blaine is staring at him hard enough that Jared shifts a little under the gaze. "If I remember correctly, you've spent a few mornings like this, too. Come to think of it, I brought you ginger ale—"
"Fine!" Jared throws his hands up in the air. "I'll get a goddamned crew member!" He mutters something about Blaine's bossiness as he stalks off.
"Is there anything I can do?" Kurt asks softly.
Blaine turns in surprise, as if he hadn't realized Kurt was awake. He flashes a warm smile. "Hey there. Sleep okay?"
His voice is surprisingly intimate for the fact that he has a hand on a boy who's puking, and there are two others sitting not far away, still looking as if they may follow Kendrick's lead at any moment. Kurt can't help but feel special at how quickly Blaine can narrow his focus to only him.
"Yeah. I mean, for the three hours or whatever we actually slept. What time is it?"
"Five forty-five."
"I think I need a medic," Kendrick groans.
"No, you need some water, some aspirin and a lot of sleep," Blaine tells him. "Then you'll be fine."
Kendrick just whimpers.
Shaking his head, Blaine turns back to Kurt. "You want to help me get him back to his room?"
"Yeah. Sure."
Kurt stands and moves over to Kendrick's other side while Blaine maneuvers him into a sitting position and slowly helps him on to his feet. The boy sways precariously between them and they both tighten their grips on his arms, slowly moving out from between the lounges and making their way toward the forward hallway. They stop beside Nick and Byron, and Blaine asks if they're capable of making it to their rooms on their own. Both of them nod and stand, and even though they appear a little hung-over in their own right, they certainly don't look anywhere near as bad as Kendrick. Kurt could launch into an entire diatribe about how just because the alcohol is available, and no one is around to tell you no, doesn't necessarily mean that you should take advantage of it. He gets the feeling they'll all be hearing that from Blaine, though.
The walk to the staterooms is slow. Twice it appears that Kendrick is going to get sick again, and Blaine warns him about throwing up on their shoes, which at least causes the boy to giggle, and he somehow makes it to his room before he can't hold the nausea back anymore.
As he dives for the bathroom, Blaine and Kurt stand in the doorway, shrugging at Flint who is sitting up in his bed, staring at them in sleepy-eyed confusion. Stifling a yawn, Blaine turns to Kurt.
"I'm going to hang around and make certain he gets some water in him and gets to bed. Maybe you should—"
"Do you mind if I stay, too?" Kurt asks, reaching for Blaine's hand.
He's being selfish, he knows. He hates how they didn't wake up still curled together the way they had fallen asleep. He'd even dreamed of waking up with Blaine pressed against him, dragging him from sleep with soft kisses. Instead, there'd been puking, and his boyfriend's attention focused on someone other than him. And while on the one hand he thinks it's amazing how Blaine looks out for the other Warblers, he really only wants his full attention directed to him this morning. It's a new year, and he selfishly wants Blaine all to himself.
Blaine squeezes his fingers, smiling. "Of course not." He closes the distance between them for a quick kiss.
On the other side of the room, Flint mutters something about sleep and begins pounding his fist into his pillow really hard before flopping over to face the porthole.
Eventually, they get Kendrick to drink a couple of glasses of water, take a couple aspirin (Kurt was forced to wake his parent's up at this point, and Carole happily provided him with what he needed when he explained one of the Warblers wasn't feeling well—she didn't even ask him why he was still in uniform) and climb into bed. Kendrick is still whining like he's dying, so they hang out a little while longer, Blaine sitting beside Kendrick on the bed while he tries to fall asleep, Kurt leaning against the bulkhead across from him, quietly contemplating the complexities of the boy he's dating.
On the one hand, there's the Warblers' unofficial leader; he's not a council member but even the council listens to him. He's the front man with the majority of solos, the spokesman, the performer, the charmer. He's the responsible one who's there when the boys behave like boys, calming them, comforting them, reminding them when there's an audience and that they're representing something with time-honored traditions. He brings them ginger ale, and puts them to bed, and confronts bullies for people he hardly even knows.
And then there's the Blaine that Kurt thinks the others have never seen. He's obsessed with "Titanic", knows the name and issue month of every woman who's graced the cover of Vogue for the year, and looks adorably domestic and comfortable in a yellow apron. He has a jealous streak he hates admitting to and things dark and painful buried deep within him. He hides and controls a simmering, festering anger, as well as the hurt of knowing his parents don't love him the way that parents should.
Kurt knows both. He loves both. He loves the Blaine that took the hand of a stranger, sang to him, and gave him hope at a time when he'd been very close to drowning in his loneliness. The confident and suave 1940's movie star who makes it damn near impossible for people not to like him. Not to adore him. And he loves the Blaine who sometimes holds on to him a little too tightly, kisses him a little too hard, like maybe he's afraid that Kurt will slip away or disappear in his arms. The angry Blaine who blames an entire school—people he may not even know—for the death of his best friend. The one who, though he will probably never admit it, sometimes stares at Burt Hummel like he still can't believe he's real.
There was a time when Kurt believed Blaine had it all together, that he was the most confident, mature and perfectly poised teenager in the entire world. Now he knows differently, and somehow, it's made Kurt's own world a lot less lonely.
"I think he's asleep," Blaine whispers finally, glancing up at Kurt.
Kurt nods, and gives him a smile, holding out his hand. Standing, Blaine takes it and they make their way out of the room. They're quiet as they head toward Kurt's stateroom out of some mutually unspoken agreement. Outside the door, Kurt turns and looks at his boyfriend, smiling as he reaches out to brush some curls back into place that had been mussed during the night.
"What you did for Kendrick was pretty amazing, you know."
Blaine shrugs, "Just looking out for a friend," he says, body moving in close to Kurt's leaning slightly against him, their chests pressed together. He rests his hands on Kurt's hips, and ducks his head a little as Kurt continues to play with his hair.
"Well, I kind of want to kick said friend's ass when he's feeling better," Kurt tells him softly, fingers trailing over the shell of Blaine's ear, causing his body to shudder slightly against Kurt's. "I was looking forward to waking up with you snuggled against me."
He can just barely see Blaine's smile at that, head still tucked down between them. "Can I admit something?" Blaine looks up at him from beneath lashes that Kurt sometimes considers stealing. "When I first heard Kendrick? I may have feigned sleep for as long as I could."
Kurt laughs at that, tugging his boyfriend up for a kiss as he wraps his arms around him. "I promise I will never tell anyone that you didn't immediately jump to Kendrick's rescue." He glances over his shoulder at his door before returning his gaze to Blaine. "You know, we could always go back to sleep for a while…"
And he's not surprised when responsible Blaine resurfaces, shaking his head a little and flashing Kurt a quick look of regret. "I honestly don't think I could sleep if I tried."
Kurt refrains from saying they don't have to sleep, mostly because both of their rooms are occupied.
"I'm probably going to go check on my roommate, shower…" He's studying Kurt's eyes as if trying to assess if he's angry or not. "Meet for breakfast? Unless you want to sleep—"
Shaking his head, Kurt tightens his arms around him momentarily. "No, no. Breakfast is fine—breakfast is perfect." He's not angry; maybe a little disappointed but he knows it's nothing spending time with Blaine the rest of the day won't fix. "Meet in an hour?"
"Perfect."
Another brief kiss between them and then Blaine is pulling back, giving him that bright, slightly-devilish smirk of his before heading back down the hall.
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The Ocean Cafe is quiet on this heavy morning-after, and they both feel a little more at ease to tease and flirt over breakfast; it's a testament to the superpowers of Blaine's eyes that he manages to get Kurt to eat bacon for the first time in years, and damn that's good.
Finishing off said piece of bacon, Kurt tends to his granola and yogurt for a moment, mixing them together. "So, as I haven't seen evidence of a party in my time at Dalton yet, I take it from last night's behavior the Warblers don't participate all that often?"
"Honestly, the policy on getting caught drinking is kind of strict for the group." Blaine takes a bite of the scrambled eggs with too much cheese and grimaces a bit. Kurt tries to hide his smile and fails. "I mean, it's strict for all of Dalton, but for the Warblers it's not like you get a warning. One offense and you're out of the group."
Kurt pauses, spoon poised over his yogurt. "But the guys this morning, Kendrick—"
"No one is actually going to tell Mr. Price." Blaine waves a hand before picking up the cheese Danish and pulling it apart to eat the center. "We do look out for each other."
"Did you really just eat the cheese out of the Danish and put the rest aside?"
"What about it?"
"Honestly, Blaine." Kurt reaches out for another piece of bacon. At Blaine's look he just says, "Oh, shut up."
His boyfriend giggles, and then proceeds to pull the cinnamon roll apart until he gets to just the sticky center.
"You're like, five years old," Kurt says, reaching for his third piece of bacon. "And be careful, you're getting crumbs on your shirt."
"Yes, dear."
Kurt arches an eyebrow. "I really hate it when you do that."
Blaine smiles at him, all endearing and adorable, and Kurt can do little more than roll his eyes. This is Blaine in the morning—obnoxious to a fault. Kurt wavers between loving him even more and wanting to beat him over the head with his tray.
"Good morning, boys!"
They look up together to see Carole, Burt and Finn headed toward their tables with breakfast trays in hand. Blaine immediately scoots his chair and tray next to Kurt to make room for them while they all exchange greetings. Leaning back in his chair, and still kind of playing with the granola and yogurt concoction he's made, Kurt watches as Blaine leads the conversation, asking Kurt's dad and Carole how their night was, what their plans for the day included and pointing out that Kurt was the one who piled his tray full of bacon and there was no way he could eat it all. Finn takes that as an invitation to help out, immediately reaching over for a handful. Kurt quickly says no to his dad, and pushes the tray closer to Blaine.
"Kurt," Carole begins, smiling when he turns his attention to her. "I hope you don't mind but I went ahead and made an appointment for both of us for facials this afternoon. I was in the mood for a little pampering, and I thought you might like to join me?"
Kurt smiles and says, "That sounds perfect. Thanks, Carole." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine reach out to his plate and steal a piece of pineapple. Kurt turns to flash him a quick look before pushing his plate closer to him. Blaine gives him a smile as he grabs another piece of fruit.
"Hear they're showing the Rose Bowl tonight at six in the Casino," Burt says. "Finn and I were thinking of catching it. Want to join us, Blaine? Kurt said you were into college football."
Kurt's eyes widen slightly in surprise as Blaine says beside him, "I'd love to, Mr. Hummel. I'll only be able to catch the first hour, though. Our last two performances are tonight at seven and seven-thirty. But thank you very much for the invitation."
"Carole, I do believe that will be our cue to be shopping in the Emporium," Kurt says to her with a grin.
Blaine takes a sip of his orange juice, saying, "You're not getting my wallet."
"You two are so married, it's kinda creepy," Finn tells them, looking at them with a weird smile.
Kurt's face is actually on fire. He's sure of it. He hears his dad grunt, and Carole laughs softly, though he can tell even she is a little uncertain how to respond. Kurt feels Blaine's hand move over his shoulder, a reassuring brief squeeze.
"We're best friends, Finn," Blaine says reasonably. "Are you telling me you and your best friend don't share the same familiar 'I know too much about you' banter?"
"Me and Puck?"
"Yes, you and Puck, Finn," Kurt replies. He turns to Blaine. "And yes, they do, though there's a lot more shoving and punching and things of that nature."
"Would you be more comfortable, Finn, if I punched Kurt?" Blaine completely deadpans.
Carole laughs out loud, and even Kurt's dad chuckles. Kurt, on the other hand, elbows Blaine in the stomach.
Finn smiles at Blaine's teasing. "You're pretty cool, dude. I mean, if I hadn't said so before."
"Why, thank you, Finn. That means a lot to me."
Kurt snorts at that.
They finish the rest of their breakfast with Blaine, Finn and Burt discussing the upcoming Rose Bowl. They all lament the fact that it will be nowhere near as exciting as the game the Buckeyes played last year. Kurt honestly tries to remain interested in football for Blaine's sake, but he can only listen for so long before his mind begins wandering. At least he understands the rules better than he had the year before during his brief stint as a kicker. Blaine had refused to believe it when he told him; it took video to finally convince him. Unfortunately, that seemed to signal in Blaine's brain that Kurt was somehow interested in the sport. Now he hears about it ad nauseum. He's kind of grateful for Finn and his dad's presence at the moment.
"Well, I'm going to go try out the indoor cycling class they're having in the fitness center," Carole says as she gets up. "Kurt, our facials are scheduled for one o'clock."
"I'll set my alarm," he tells her, pulling out his cell phone. "But we'll probably just be up at the pool anyway."
"Okay, honey." She leans over to kiss Burt. "See you by the pool later."
"And what about you, Finn?" Burt asks. "Plans for the morning?"
"Actually, yeah. They've got a basketball tournament going on at the court on Deck Twelve. I promised Holden I'd stop by and kick him out of bed for it. They're supposed to have prizes and stuff."
"That sounds great," Blaine says with a smile. "Maybe we'll stop by and check it out."
Kurt can't stop himself. He rolls his eyes and holds his finger up to the side of his head in the shape of a gun as he mimics shooting himself.
It's Blaine's turn to snort. "Let me amend that—maybe I'll stop by and check it out."
Kurt pats his arm. "That's better."
As it turns out, Kurt's dad, Finn and Blaine all decide to go to the basketball tournament. Blaine and Burt just plan on watching while Finn plays, but Kurt has even less interest in basketball than he does in football. What is he supposed to do? He briefly considers tagging along, if only to show his boyfriend what he is willing to put up with to spend time with him. But that idea doesn't last long. Maybe a few seconds, at best. Much to his own chagrin, he can't not flash Blaine a hurt expression as his boyfriend gets up from the table to leave.
"Hey," Blaine says, leaning on to the table to bring their gazes level. "You can tag along, you know."
"I'd be terribly bored." He reaches up to trace the patterns on the front of Blaine's t-shirt. "I'll probably just wander through the Emporium or maybe I'll go down to the internet café and email Mercedes. I should probably let her know I'll be available for texting tomorrow in St. Thomas."
"And then you'll be more attached to your phone than me." It's Blaine's turn to look a little hurt.
"Never." Kurt leans his head up and Blaine bends to meet him for a quick kiss.
"See you on the pool deck later?"
"Yeah." Kurt smiles as Blaine leans over once more, this time to press a kiss to the top of his head. He hears him mumble into his hair, "Love you."
Kurt flashes him a big smile as Blaine hurries off to catch up to Burt and Finn.
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"I can't believe I'm still getting color." Kurt is staring down at his chest and stomach with a frown. "I need SPF 200… do they make SPF 200?"
Blaine is grinning from his lounge chair beside him, head propped on his hand as he watches Kurt. "You're just as gorgeous with color as without to me."
Kurt beams, certain he's only blushing a little bit under the praise.
They'd met up on the pool deck a bit past eleven after Holden and Finn's team had won the tournament. Little by little, the Warblers had trickled up to join them, some to simply drop into a lounge chair and go right back to sleep, and others to grab burgers and fries for their breakfast poolside. Even Kendrick eventually wandered up shortly before noon, looking a little more like himself than he had earlier. He told them he didn't even want to look at food as he'd stopped by Blaine and Kurt's lounges briefly in order to give Blaine a quick hug and thank him for what he'd done that morning.
"So, are you going to get a facial with me?" Kurt finds himself asking as he shifts slightly in the lounge chair to face his boyfriend.
"Nah." Blaine reaches out for his hand, and Kurt gives it to him, arms hanging loosely in the gap between them. "I get the feeling Carole wants to spend some time with her stepson. I'll just hang out here until you're done—I've got those future wrinkles to work on, you know."
Laughing, Kurt threads their fingers together, laying his cheek against the edge of the lounge so that they're just that much closer to one another. He's not a big fan of PDA, but it's difficult not to touch Blaine when he's looking like this, all warm and tanned and relaxed, curls falling over his forehead. Unable to do much else, he stares instead, appreciating the dark hair that covers Blaine's well-toned legs, the gentle slope from his abs to his chest, broad shoulders and a long neck that Kurt really, really wants to lick at the moment.
"See something you like?" Blaine's smirk clearly says that Kurt has been caught.
He just smiles in return. "Yeah. A whole lot that I like, actually. Do you have any idea how difficult it is not just reach out and—"
"Keep it to yourselves, fags."
Kurt automatically flinches at the words, snatching his hand from Blaine's and glancing up to see a college-age guy walking past, looking at them like they were the most repellent things on the planet. Taking a steadying breath, Kurt looks across at Blaine, watching warily as his boyfriend seems to shut down, a blank mask falling across his features like a curtain. It might have been fascinating to witness under different circumstances, and maybe if things had just ended there, but they don't.
"What the hell did you say?"
It's Holden.
Kurt twists in his chair to see the rugby player on his feet, blocking the guy's path. He isn't the only one. Finn is walking up beside Holden, Jared, Galen, Wes, David; one by one the Warblers are getting up, forming a circle. Kendrick's the only one still in his chair, glancing over at Kurt wide-eyed, and pale. Kurt can't see any of this going anywhere good.
"What'd you think I said?" The guy taunts; he's about the same height as Holden, maybe not as big, but bulkier with his age.
"I think you said something so ridiculously offensive, I may just have to hit you for it."
Blaine is on his feet before Kurt can stop him. "Holden, let it go—" He begins.
"Sit down, Blaine."
Kurt's honestly never heard anyone in the Warblers speak to Blaine like that, dismissively, like he's in their way. He can see Blaine bristle, fists clenching at his sides.
"Yeah, sit down homo. This is between real men."
"What the—"
Finn steps up before Holden can say whatever he meant to. He crowds up into the guy's space, and it's weird to Kurt, how threatening Finn can look when he wants to. "I really think you need to go elsewhere, dude. I'm kind of sick of looking at you and hearing the noise coming from your mouth."
Even the homophobe can see Finn is bigger. He holds up his hands slightly, taking a step back. Unfortunately, Jared has stepped up behind him, and the guy really has nowhere to go. He glances around, realizing he's out-numbered, and Kurt can't help but wonder if he's thinking he chose the wrong gays to verbally attack. He turns to leave, and Jared is right up in his face.
"We even so much as catch you looking at our friends the wrong way we'll kick your fucking ass and toss it overboard."
Finn actually steps in to pull Jared back, allowing the guy to pass. He glances over his shoulder once at the Warblers, but doesn't miss the opportunity to shoot a parting look of disgust at Kurt and Blaine.
Kurt's attention immediately swivels back to his boyfriend, who hasn't said anything since Holden told him to sit down; he hasn't moved. He's just standing there, eyes on the deck, hands still curled into fists, shoulders shaking slightly. Slowly, Kurt reaches down to gather up his messenger bag, shoving the tube of sun block into it, grabbing Blaine's t-shirt, all the while his gaze trained on his boyfriend. He can sense that Blaine is holding back… something. Kurt's familiar with the posture; he's been there himself many times.
"They shouldn't let assholes like that on cruise ships," Jared remarks, before turning to place his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Sorry about that, man. What a douche."
Kurt gets to his feet. He can't exactly say to Jared, "Just leave him alone," because that would draw attention to Blaine that Kurt knows he wouldn't want. He's trying to warn Jared off with a look, but the boy doesn't even seem to notice.
Jared does seem to notice that Blaine hasn't moved, though. The others are starting to look at him, as well. Kurt moves forward as Jared says, "You okay, dude?"
"Fine." His response is clipped, angry.
Kurt takes a breath as he steps closer, and Jared pulls back a little frowning. "Wow. That's gratitude for you."
Dammit.
Kurt reaches out for Blaine just as he whirls as Jared and shouts, "I don't recall anyone calling you a fag, Jared, so forgive me if I don't pin a fucking medal on you!"
To his credit, Jared doesn't respond. He actually looks away, glancing toward the others, who have all gone silent and still. It's one thing to see Blaine on stage, smiling and dancing and charming the hell out of their audience. It's quite another to see him like this—an angry boy who can't always be the leader they expect him to be.
The worst of it hits in the next moment as Blaine seems to realize what he's done, what he's shown. Kurt watches the slump of his shoulders, the hollow looks that appears in his eyes. His gaze darts around the clustered Warblers quickly, and then he's walking away, pushing past them, not moving quickly but with a singular purpose.
Kurt shoulders his bag and starts after him, only to come to a halt when Jared reaches out to him.
"Kurt." The uncertainty in his eyes is a little unsettling. This is Jared, after all. "I'm sorry. I didn't think—"
"It's not you guys." Kurt looks at each of them quickly. "Thank you for what you did, really. It's just—I don't expect you to understand. I'll talk to him. It'll be all right. I promise."
When Kurt reaches Blaine's stateroom, he honestly expects to find the door shut against him, unanswered and ignored at his knock. Instead, the door is open; Blaine is leaning slumped against it inside the room, eyes trained on the floor, as if he had simply been waiting for Kurt to arrive. He moves when Kurt steps inside, letting the door go as he walks over to the bed to sit down. Kurt turns, grabbing the 'Do Not Disturb' placard and slipping it over the handle before he closes the door behind him. The last thing he needs right now is a well-meaning stepbrother or fellow Warbler stopping by to check on them.
Kurt moves further into the room, slipping the strap of his messenger bag from his shoulder and setting it on the ground. He sits down beside Blaine, but doesn't reach for him, uncertain at the moment just what it is that Blaine needs from him. The silence continues for the next few minutes, during which Kurt quietly studies Blaine, watching as his breathing seems to even out and his eyes return to their soft warmth. They're still a bit too bright, and the green flecks are like tiny spots of firelight in the gold.
"Not my finest hour," Blaine says finally.
Kurt bites his lip. "Honestly, you've got a way to go to catch up to my emotional outbursts if that's the best you've got." He tries to smile but Blaine just looks at him.
"I find myself forgetting sometimes."
Kurt waits for clarification. When he doesn't get it, he asks, "Forgetting what?"
Blaine looks down at his hands. "That the rest of the world isn't Dalton." He pauses, and Kurt just waits. "Being with you, being able to just hold your hand and touch you, and the way you look at me… sometimes I forget. And then reality intrudes."
Kurt can't stop himself from reaching out then, laying his hand over Blaine's. "The way I see it, this is reality. Me and you. I don't think anything else matters."
There's that look again. Kurt's having trouble interpreting it, but he knows he doesn't like how disbelieving it seems.
Blaine pulls away from him; stands and walks toward the other side of the room. He's got his arms wrapped around himself. Kurt knows that defensive posture when he sees it. He only now realizes he hasn't given Blaine his t-shirt back yet, and there's something about seeing him like this, arms wrapped around bare skin that makes him seem incredibly vulnerable.
"You know what I hate most?" Blaine asks with his back to him. "Times like these make me want to run back to Dalton. I'm such a fucking coward."
Kurt begins to deny that but Blaine turns back to him. "No, I am. It's not that I didn't have the urge to punch that asshole in the face—I did. But I just stood there and let Holden and Finn, and Jared, for crying out loud, fight my battles for me."
"They were the ones who stepped up, Blaine," Kurt reminds him gently. "They wanted to protect us. You don't know what you would have done if they hadn't been there. You very well may have—"
"You mean like when I stood up to Karofsky when he got in my face?" Blaine chokes out a laugh. "Oh, no, wait. That was you. You know, the boy I told I'd have his back, except I just stood there, frozen, while you had to step between us and shove him away."
Kurt feels ill. He scrambles for something to say, something to fill this inexplicable chasm that's appearing between them and who they are, and who Kurt imagined them both to be. None of this is right. "That's not—the situations are different—"
"You became my hero in that moment," Blaine interrupts softly.
How is he even supposed to respond to that? Everything about this conversation is wrong and backwards. Blaine came to his rescue, not the other way around. Why can't Blaine see that?
Kurt tries to tell him this but the words die on his lips as Blaine says simply, "I told you I wasn't the strong one."
"That's bullshit, Blaine." Kurt lets the anger take over because right now he just can't deal with all the rest.
He stands and stalks over to his boyfriend. "With everything you've been through in your past, the crap from your parents—through all of that you still go out there and perform with a smile on your face. You're always there for every single one of your friends, and whenever I've needed you, every stupid moment I've called you crying, or just needing someone to talk to you've dropped everything to be there for me. And never, not once, have I ever seen you ask for anything in return. If that's not strength, I sure as hell don't know what is! Time and again I've wished you would have needed me for something so that I didn't feel so… selfish."
He takes Blaine's hands in his, needing something to hold on to. "In the worst time of my life, you reached out to me, Blaine. You taught me that I wasn't alone. And I know it's ridiculously trite of me to say but, you kind of saved me."
And dammit, he's not getting through. That mask is still there, like Blaine is trying to pull away from him, like maybe he fears he's let Kurt see too much. He can't let that happen, and yet, he doesn't know how to fix this. He doesn't even really understand what it is that's broken.
"Can I ask you something?" Blaine questions after a moment of silence.
"You know you can."
"When Karofsky threatened your life, did you ask to come to Dalton?"
Kurt blinks. Of course he'd mentioned Dalton to his dad, the no-bullying policy, his friendship with Blaine, the Warblers. But it hadn't been until his dad knew the truth about the threat, until the school board had overturned the decision by Principle Sylvester to expel Karofsky, and then…
It hadn't been his idea.
"I think that answers my question," Blaine says in response to Kurt's silence. He pulls his hands from Kurt's and walks past him, sitting once more on his bed.
Kurt just stands there at first, wondering how they'd gotten here, specifically. To this point. Has this been something Blaine has been carrying around all of these months? This confused belief that Kurt is somehow stronger? This odd fear that if Kurt peels back the layers that make up Blaine Anderson he might somehow discover he's a…coward? Kurt can't even wrap his mind around that. He's labeled Blaine a lot of things—gorgeous, charming, smart, angry, hurting, perfect in every way that honestly matters to Kurt—but never cowardly.
"Blaine." Kurt turns and stares down at him. Blaine won't meet his gaze.
Sighing, Kurt moves over to sit beside him once more. "Baby, you really have to help me out right now because I am so confused. I don't get where this is coming from. I love you. And I've only ever seen you as strong, confident, brilliant and beautiful. Why can't you see that about yourself?"
Blaine is quiet, and still won't meet his gaze, but he hasn't pulled away yet. If anything, Kurt can almost sense that he's glad he's there. It gives him the courage to reach up and run his fingers through Blaine's hair, stroking softly, silently encouraging Blaine to open up to him.
"Do you know why I asked to go to Dalton?"
Kurt frowns a little. "Because of what happened to Marc, and everything after."
"I asked because I was afraid." He finally meets Kurt's gaze. His voice trembles a little as he says, "Marc was the strongest person I knew, and he couldn't… I was afraid I'd give up, too, Kurt. And so I found the safest place that I could hide, and I ran there, and I've played make-believe about whom I am and who I was ever since."
Oh, god, you're broken, Kurt thinks as his hand curls around the back of Blaine's neck and just rests it there. He doesn't know what to say and he doesn't know what to do, but he knows he can't let go. Even if Blaine were to get up now and walk away, Kurt would have to follow. He thinks if I let go now, I'll never get him back.
It's the what of what to say that matters right now, and Kurt struggles for a moment. Blaine doesn't like people feeling sorry for him anymore than Kurt does. He's not telling this to Kurt because he wants his sympathy—that would make it easier to provide a response. No, Blaine is being open and honest because he thoroughly expects it to make a difference.
Blaine's still punishing himself for Marc's death, and his subsequent reaction to it.
Kurt takes a breath…and rolls his eyes. "Seriously, Blaine Anderson, if that's all you've got, I'm a little disappointed. All this time I've thought there's no possible way I could have met a guy this ridiculously perfect, not to mention convince him to fall in love with me, and there not be some horrible flaw attached. I've been waiting to find out you're an axe murder or a mobster or into cannibalism or something. And this is what you give me—that you're human? Guess there'll be no Lifetime TV movie about my life just yet!"
When Blaine tries to pull away, Kurt doesn't let him. He puts his hand on Blaine's chest and shifts, angling his body so that he's right up in Blaine's personal space. Something flares in Blaine's gaze that's very much like anger, and Kurt takes that as a good sign.
"Do you honestly expect me to be shocked because you feel fear, Blaine? Because maybe you've made choices you regret? Should I begin listing all of the times I've been afraid? The stupid things I've done that I wish I could go back and change?"
"You didn't r—"
"Run? No, I didn't. And do you know why? Because I didn't have to, Blaine. My dad has always been there for me, supporting me, loving me. My friends have been there. I didn't ask to go to Dalton because I didn't think it was an option—the tuition isn't something my family can afford, but they decided I was worth it. I didn't make that decision, but I am really fucking glad that they did."
Oh god, I'm getting through. He hears the hitch in Blaine's breath, sees the tempering of the honey-gold in his eyes, and feels his heart beating beneath the warm skin under Kurt's hand.
"I've never been good at hiding my emotions, Blaine. I cried in front of you the day we met. But you, you bury everything so deep inside of you, and I get that, I do, and I need you to understand that every little crack you show me, every fear, every moment that you lose control, just makes me love you more. You can argue that logic the rest of your life if you want to," Kurt says when he notices Blaine's about to say something, "but it's not going to change anything."
Kurt gives in to the sudden need to kiss Blaine. He leans in and presses their lips together in a firm kiss, and Blaine doesn't resist. Kurt curls his fingers in the curls at the nape of Blaine's neck, and pulls back just enough to tell him, "Until you can accept that you're the amazing and strong and wonderful and perfect boy that I see you as, let me be strong for you, for once. Let me be strong for both of us. To hell with the world outside of Dalton. It doesn't matter. You and I matter. And maybe this isn't forever, but it's certainly for right now, and dammit, Blaine, we're not alone anymore. Neither of us."
He kisses Blaine again, and this time, he feels Blaine's arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. Kurt sighs with relief as Blaine whispers into his mouth, "You are so amazing to me, Kurt. God, I love you so much."
It's the emotion in Blaine's voice, more than anything else, that has Kurt pushing him back against the bed, climbing over him, fusing their mouths together as he straddles Blaine's hips, and all he can think is please don't push me away, please don't push me away. And Blaine doesn't. If anything, he's pulling him closer, hands sliding beneath Kurt's shirt to splay across his lower back. Kurt gives in to the temptation from earlier on the pool deck, breaking away from Blaine's mouth, his heart pulsing at the whimper that issues from the back of Blaine's throat as their kiss ends. He kisses his way down Blaine's jaw to his neck, sucking and licking at the skin there, tasting sun block and warmth, and Blaine shifts beneath him, angling his head back, giving Kurt better access. And for a moment, Kurt can't move; he stills with his mouth pressed against Blaine's neck, and he can't believe this boy is his, his to kiss and taste and touch and explore.
"Kurt?" Blaine questions softly, and it's enough to bring him back to himself, biting gently at the skin beneath his mouth and he feels Blaine's hands tighten against his back, descending lower, fingertips pressing at the waist band of his swim trunks.
Shuddering at the slide of Blaine's hands, Kurt kisses his way down the chest beneath him, marveling at the sheer expanse of tanned, smooth skin that is his to touch and taste. He skims his palms downward as he moves, pausing to trace his fingertips around Blaine's nipples. The boy beneath him gasps softly, moving into the touch. Fascinated, Kurt repeats the touch, slower this time, lighter. He bends his head and traces the left nipple with his tongue, and Blaine's hands are tangling in his hair now, and this encourages Kurt, and he takes the hardening bud between his lips and suckles at it. Blaine whispers his name in a way Kurt's never heard it spoken before; it makes his insides turn to jelly, and he just keeps sucking, dying to hear it again.
"Kurt. Kurt." Blaine is tugging on the strands of his hair, and Kurt allows him to pull him back up, lips pressing together and tongues meeting once again.
Kurt can practically feel the need wafting off of Blaine, burning through his kisses and his touch and the quiet little moans in the back of his throat. It's a heady sensation, knowing that there's someone who desires him like this, who he can reduce to a puddle of goo in the same manner that Blaine reduces him to one, sometimes with little more than a look. It makes Kurt grow bolder, discovering all the different curves and angles of Blaine's neck and shoulders, and stomach—so like his and yet so different. Where Kurt is trim, Blaine is a little more solid (considering how much he jumps around while singing, this doesn't surprise Kurt); where Kurt is pale, Blaine is rich (like milk compared to malted vanilla, he thinks); where the hair is soft and fine on Kurt, it's crisp and curly on Blaine. Kurt thinks, I could have hours and I wouldn't be able to explore him enough.
He moves away from Blaine's mouth once more—feels Blaine's teeth graze against the side of his neck—and he nips at the lobe of Blaine's ear before sliding his tongue into the concave. Blaine's hips thrust upwards against him, grinding into his thigh, and Kurt freezes again, breath catching in his throat because that's Blaine's dick rubbing against me! It's new and amazing and Kurt just takes a tiny moment to let it all sink in because, yeah, he was getting hard before but now, now the evidence of Blaine's own hard on is pressing against him, and that has to be the hottest thing ever.
Instinctively, he meets the next thrust with his own, and Blaine's eyes shoot open and they're looking at one another with matched expressions of… terror, maybe? That's a little what Kurt's feeling, at least, in between the OMG is this really happening? and all of the other moments when he has no concept of thought whatsoever. And then Blaine's hands are settling on his hips and he—Kurt honestly thinks his brain is exploding—pulls Kurt down against him as he thrusts upwards again. Kurt doesn't stop the whimper that escapes from his throat, dropping his head down against Blaine's shoulder, and just moving with him, scrambling for the best position, the most friction, the—
"I know you think you're special when we dance real crazy. Glam-aphonic, electronic, disco baby—"
Blaine and Kurt both freeze. Blaine lifts his head off the pillow. "Is that… Gaga?"
Kurt lets out a cry of supreme frustration as he rolls off of the bed (and Blaine, for crying out loud!) to dig through his messenger bag for his cell phone.
"I like you a lot lot, all we want is hot hot, boys boys boys, we like boys in—" Kurt turns the alarm off, pushing at the button rather viciously as he says, "Cock-blocked by a damn facial!"
Behind him, Blaine starts laughing. Really laughing. Kurt turns to stare at him as he's holding his sides, rolling back and forth on the bed, and every time he looks at Kurt, he just bursts out laughing again.
"Did you-did you just honestly say you were—were cock-blocked by a—a facial?" He loses it again.
Kurt's mouth twitches as he attempts to hold in his own laughter. Unfortunately, the harder his boyfriend laughs, the more difficult it becomes for Kurt not to join in until he finally launches himself at Blaine, planting his hands on his shoulders and staring down into his face as Kurt also begins to giggle.
"Stop laughing!" He demands, laughing himself as Blaine just cracks up once more. Kurt sits up, straddling Blaine's hips. "You have seriously lost your mind! I call a cock-block when I see one, and this facial qualifies." Kurt pokes him hard in his chest.
"Ouch!" Blaine is still giggling as he rubs at the area Kurt poked. He smiles up at Kurt in an amazing way, eyes shining. "Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?"
Kurt arches a brow, preening. "Not in the last few minutes, no."
Grabbing Kurt by his waist, and causing him to squeal at the sudden movement, Blaine rolls them over so that they're laying side by side, facing one another, the tips of their noses barely touching. "You're wonderful," he whispers.
Kurt smiles, laying his palm against Blaine's cheek for a moment before sliding his fingers back through his hair. "Will you still be here when I'm done?"
Blaine nods, turning his head to kiss the inside of Kurt's wrist. "Yeah, I don't—" He cuts himself off, but Kurt can finish the sentence for him—I don't want to go back up there right now. "I may watch a movie or something."
"Watch "Inception"," Kurt suggests with a wink. "Nothing like a little Leo, Joseph and Tom to get your mind off of things."
"True," Blaine says with a short laugh. "True."
Kurt sits up and grabs his messenger bag, digging through it for Blaine's t-shirt, which he lays on the bed as Blaine sits up behind him. He feels Blaine's wrap around his waist from behind, and then his chin is resting on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt just leans back into his embrace for a moment.
"Thank you," Blaine whispers in the ensuing silence. "Thank you for—"
"You never have to thank me, Blaine." Kurt turns his head to place a quick peck against his cheek. "This is what people do when they love each other, right? Be there for each other, no matter what?"
Blaine smiles and his arms tighten around Kurt. "When did you suddenly get so wise?"
"Pfft!" Kurt rolls his eyes. "I've always been this wise. It's not my problem you're just now noticing!"
He squeezes the arms around him before pulling away to stand and slip his bag over his shoulder. He leans down, meeting Blaine for another soft kiss. "I'll be back soon," he promises.
"I'll be waiting."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kurt finds Carole waiting for him outside of the Aqua Spa. She smiles as he approaches and slips her arm around his shoulders for a brief hug. "Having a good day?"
Kurt thinks he can't exactly tell her that he'd just been about to have a very good day, before being rudely interrupted by Gaga and his facial appointment. And most everything before that… "It's had its ups and downs, actually."
His stepmom stops in the hall, turning to face him with a concerned look. "Why? What's happened? You didn't have a fight with Blaine, did you?"
"No, I mean, nothing like that." He glances toward the reception area where a couple of young women, dressed smartly in all black, stand looking bored behind the counter. "Something happened out on the pool deck today, and Blaine… it opened up some issues."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Does he? He glances back to Carole, and thinks about it. She would be the safest person to talk to when it came to his relationship with Blaine. He would be uncomfortable talking to his dad, and he is sure his dad would be equally uncomfortable in return, no matter how hard he would try for Kurt's sake. There's Mercedes, but she really hasn't been in any more relationships than he has (aside from that odd not-relationship that occurred between her and Puck last year). If his mother were alive, she would be the one he knew he would be able to turn to for advice. And Carole, even though she hasn't been a part of his life for very long, is the only mother he has had since losing his.
"After the facials, maybe?" Kurt suggests. "We could sit and talk. I think… I mean, I need to."
Carole nods and reaches out to touch his arm. "Of course, sweetie. Anything you need to talk about, okay?"
Kurt smiles. "Thanks, Carole."
They check in for their appointments, and a tall blond woman comes out a few minutes later and calls his name. Kurt tells Carole to enjoy her pampering before he follows the woman who introduces herself as Sharon, back into a private room. She instructs him to sit in the comfortable recliner, and then busies herself with turning on some soothing music and pulling out the products and instruments for the facial. She asks him if he's had a facial before, and of course he has, so then she asks if he's specifically had an aroma therapy facial, which he has not.
The next few minutes are spent with Sharon explaining to him what all the aroma therapy facial will entail. Kurt can't help but think after today, he can seriously use some aroma therapy. Once the explanation is finished, Sharon asks him to just lay his head back and relax for the next fifty-five minutes.
The problem, of course, with relaxing with nothing but the sound of instrumental music and the drone of the ship's engines, and gentle fingers massaging the tension out of his face is that Kurt is left with nothing but his thoughts. He'd had a short reprieve from those in the room with Blaine before his alarm had rudely interrupted them. He might actually not be able to ever listen to Gaga in the same way again. And it wasn't just because he was delving into the hottest moment of his life (although that was certainly a large part of it), but also because the moment he was pulled away from his distraction with Blaine, he began thinking about everything that had happened.
He's spent the last few months looking up to Blaine like he was some kind of superhero. It's one thing to fall for a guy who saves you like Superman, acts more like Clark Kent… and then you find out one warm winter's day in the middle of the Caribbean that he actually has more issues than Bruce Wayne. And wow, Kurt really paid too much attention to everything Sam talked about those first few weeks.
Kurt had fallen in love with the Blaine he'd truly believed had saved him. When Kurt's world had seemed darkest, Blaine had appeared, all bright and confident and filled with answers—that may have not always been the right answers, but at least he had been trying. No one else had. Blaine couldn't have been anymore perfect in Kurt's eyes if he had appeared riding a white stallion. Honestly, the fantasies that had run through Kurt's head in those first few weeks had been ridiculous, now that he looks back on it. And he'd forced poor Mercedes to sit through "Ever After" , "The Princess Bride", and Disney's "Cinderella" of all things more times than he could count. And maybe things like that hadn't exactly helped Kurt's spiral into All Things Perfect Such as Blaine Anderson.
It's why Kurt is struggling now with what he is supposed to do. Hearing about Blaine's parents had been one thing—Kurt knew he was lucky, knew that there were so many kids who didn't have the unconditional love that his dad felt for him. But the story about Marc, and how obviously it has affected Blaine in so many ways… Kurt doesn't know how to respond to it. He doesn't know what Blaine needs from him in order to make this better. All he knows is Blaine does need something, or else all that anger and fear he keeps locked away is going to continue to eat at him, and one day, it might be all that's left.
Kurt doesn't think the confidence and charm is all an act. If it is, his boyfriend deserves an Oscar. No, he sees it as much as a part of Blaine as his occasional dorkiness, the annoying remarks that sometimes come out of his mouth, the obnoxious morning personality, his remarkable talent, and even little pieces of the anger and hurt. But it's the continual mask Blaine wears—the Prince Charming act—that may one day not be enough. There will be a point when he'll need to rely on it the most, and it will crack and crumble, like today on the pool deck, providing the boys who look up to him and rely on him a glimpse of what is truly lurking there inside.
It's Blaine's self-loathing that worries Kurt most of all. Nothing had been more difficult to hear than Blaine's acknowledgment that he was afraid he could be capable of taking his own life. That one day he might just give up. Kurt feels nauseous just thinking about it. He knows that with that simple admission, he is going to worry about Blaine constantly, and he can't… he can't ever let Blaine know that because Blaine wouldn't be able to accept it.
"Try to relax," Sharon says, interrupting his thoughts. "Your facial muscles are tensing."
Kurt lets out a breath. "Sorry," he says, trying to push thoughts of Blaine hurting himself from his mind.
"Just listen to the music. Rest your mind," she instructs. "You have positively beautiful skin."
Kurt smiles proudly. "Thank you."
Sharon begins describing the additional benefits her treatment will provide to his skin, and Kurt's thoughts wander once more. He tries to make a mental list of the things he needs to help Blaine overcome.
Blaine thinks himself a coward. Kurt can't even process the thought. No coward walks up to a football player and tries to convince him to come out of the closet. But how does he convince Blaine otherwise?
Blaine is afraid he'll end up like Marc. Kurt doesn't think it's possible. Blaine may not see it, but Kurt thinks his grasp on life is too tenacious to let go. Besides, Kurt's there now, and he's never going to let such a thing happen.
Blaine hates that he ran. Honestly, Kurt has his own misgivings about leaving McKinley, whether his safety was involved or not. Maybe that's something they can work on together.
Blaine doesn't have much familial support. Well, he has Kurt now. And Burt and Carole and Finn. And the Warblers. Kurt's pretty certain they can all help support him just fine.
Blaine's in love with him. That's totally nothing that needs to be worked on, but Kurt likes to think about it on occasion. They love each other. He can't begin to imagine that somehow their love and friendship and support of one another won't be enough to get them through any of this. The thought makes him smile.
"That's better," Sharon tells him softly.
An hour later, Kurt is standing in the reception area, waiting for Carole. His face feels amazing; and he actually does feel a little more relaxed than when he went in. He figures it will make things easier for trying to talk to Carole, even though he honestly doesn't know what he is going to say. It's not really his place to tell her everything Blaine shared with him, so he mulls over the best way to explain the issue without giving too much away. By the time she appears, full of smiles and praise for the treatment, Kurt thinks he knows what he wants to ask her.
They sit down in the aft bar of the pool deck. Carole has a glass of Chardonnay and he has a diet Coke, and they talk for a while about their facials and make fun of the music that had been playing overhead. When Kurt grows quiet, his thoughts drifting once more to Blaine as he plays with the straw in his glass, Carole finally asks him what he needs to talk about.
Kurt leans back in his chair, staring at the table. "You know how I told you and dad that things aren't really good with Blaine's parents? Well, there's a lot more, too. I don't… I'm not sure how much I should tell you because Blaine just doesn't open up to people, and the fact that he has to me… " Kurt trails off.
"It makes you feel special, doesn't it?"
He looks up, nodding at her words. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. And I don't want him to ever think he can't come to me with all of this stuff he hides from the rest of the world." Kurt leans forward again, propping his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands. "There's so much he hides inside of himself, Carole, and I'm so afraid that one day he just won't be able to handle it anymore."
"Honey, what brought all of this out?" Carole reaches across the table, laying a comforting hand on his arm.
Kurt drops his hands. "Don't tell, Dad, okay? I don't want him to worry. Especially since we only have a day left on the ship anyway. Just, promise me you won't tell him?"
Carole looks undecided. "Kurt, if it's something your dad should—"
"Please, Carole? Everything is all right. He doesn't need to know."
She sighs and finally nods. "Very well. I promise."
Kurt takes a breath. "Today while we were here at the pool, a homophobe walked by and called us fags—"
"Kurt!—"
"Finn and the Warblers, they were all there, and they kind of got up in his face and made him leave," Kurt says quickly to reassure her. "Nothing happened beyond some words. It's just—Blaine kind of lost his cool on Jared, and everyone saw it, and Blaine just kind of broke down when we got back to the room. He let me see a lot of what is going on inside, and—I don't even know how to deal with it! I want to. I want to help him because he helped me, you know? He helped me get through one of the worst times of my life, and I love him, and I want to make sure he's okay."
Kurt looks over at Carole to see that she still seems to be trying to get past her upset over what had happened to them. He waits quietly, fairly certain in his trust that she won't tell his dad about it. Finally, she nods a little bit and takes a breath, giving him a small smile.
"You say Blaine helped you get through these last few months," she begins. "What was it that he did?"
"He was just there, I guess," Kurt says with a shrug. "Anytime I needed to talk, he was there to listen. Anytime I needed someone to distract me, he'd take me out to a play or a movie. Before I transferred to Dalton, sometimes we'd get on Skype and just do our homework—we didn't even talk much. But it was nice knowing he was there in case I wanted to talk."
"And don't you think just being there for Blaine while he works through whatever problems he has would be enough as well?" Carole asks softly. "As I'm sure you may have learned with his help, most of the time simply having someone there to support and love you is all you really need to make it through the worst events of your life." She smiles a little sadly. "Sometimes it isn't even the support they offer, but your own knowledge that maybe you're needed in return. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had Finn to care for and love when I lost my husband. And I know your dad got through the loss of your mom because he had you. For all you know, Kurt, you may have been helping Blaine all this time in the same way he was supporting you."
Kurt frowns as he thinks that over. The idea makes sense—focusing on someone else to get you through the rough times. And maybe, if Blaine can focus on the two of them and whatever they might need to face together, then maybe one day he'll be able to leave his past behind him.
"Thanks, Carole," he says with a smile. "I think I get it. I mean, I hope that someday Blaine does, too."
Before they head back to the staterooms, Kurt hugs her and tells her he's glad he has a mom, again. He thinks she has tears in her eyes as she pulls away.
When Kurt knocks on Blaine's door, it's Holden who pulls it open. Kurt is about to say something when Holden holds a finger to his lips, nodding over his shoulder. Peering past him, Kurt can see that Blaine is asleep on his bed. He nods as he steps inside, and Holden is still standing at the door. He touches Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt turns back to look up at him.
"He was asleep when I got here," Holden whispers. "Is… is everything okay?"
Kurt nods. "It's all good," he whispers in return. "Just… I mean, don't—"
"I won't," Holden promises. "Glad you're here, Kurt." He pats his shoulder before turning and slipping into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
Making his way quietly over to the bed, Kurt stands there for a long moment, debating what to do. "Inception" is playing on the TV, but it's muted. Kurt stares at Joseph Gordon-Levitt for a brief moment, before turning back to the boy on the bed. He realizes he's never actually seen Blaine sleeping before. Both times on the cruise, they've fallen asleep together. And at Dalton, well, honestly Kurt has questioned if Blaine sleeps at all. The boy seems to be everywhere at all times.
It's certainly true in Blaine's case that he looks younger in sleep. His face isn't composed into that perfectly charming mask of his. He isn't making those ridiculously goofy expressions he flashes while singing—seriously, his boyfriend has one of the most expressive faces Kurt's ever seen. He looks completely peaceful, and a little heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
Gingerly, Kurt sits on the edge of the bed and reaches up to brush the curls from Blaine's forehead. He traces his fingers ever-so-lightly down his cheek, feeling the prickle of stubble along his jaw. He thinks how he'd be perfectly content to be able to just stare at Blaine forever. And he wonders for at least the five hundred and sixty-fifth time that week how in the world Blaine is actually his.
As if subconsciously feeling Kurt's gaze on him, Blaine's eyes slowly blink open. Kurt leans down as a warm and sleepy smile appears on Blaine's face. "Hey," he whispers.
"Hey back." Kurt presses their lips together and Blaine hums softly against his mouth.
As the kiss ends, Kurt lays his arms across Blaine's chest and just leans on him, resting his chin on his hands as he gazes at his beautiful and still half-asleep boyfriend.
"How was the facial?" Blaine murmurs, one hand coming up to play with Kurt's hair.
"Pretty wonderful, actually. You didn't make it through much of the movie, I see."
"Too much existentialism for my fried brain today. So I muted it and stared at the pretty men, drifting off to sleep and dream sordid fantasies involving—"
"I really don't want to hear about you and Leo right now."
"Actually, it was me and Tom. But if you'd prefer to pretend it was Leo this time around—"
Kurt kisses him to silence him. When he finally pulls back, Blaine's eyes are a little dazed. "You were saying?"
"I don't remember. I do recall waking up to find the most beautiful boy on the planet hovering over me, though."
Kurt flushes. "I'm not the most beautiful boy on the planet."
"Yeah, you are." Blaine's tone is soft as he says it, drawing his fingers along Kurt's cheek. "I thought so the first moment I turned and saw you standing there on the staircase above me. Why do you think I took your hand? I just wanted to have the chance to touch you, to know if you were real."
Sliding his arms around Blaine, Kurt presses his head against his chest and closes his eyes. "I still wonder that about you every single day."
There's a peaceful, momentary silence, and then Blaine says, "So, are you thinking what I'm thinking? That maybe we're both trapped in the "Inception" universe and—"
Snorting in disbelief, Kurt sits up, yanking the pillow out from under Blaine and proceeds to smother him with it. "I cannot believe," he begins, pulling the pillow up briefly before shoving it back over his boyfriend, who is laughing beneath it, "how much you love to ruin," he pulls the pillow back again, makes a face as Blaine still laughs, and covers his face again, "absolutely perfect moments with movie references." He pulls the pillow back once more, and glares. "Seriously, it's a problem with you."
Kurt squeals as Blaine grabs him around the waist, rolling him over toward the other side of the bed, and Kurt struggles briefly, which was honestly a stupid thing to do, and they both tumble over the side, head first onto the floor.
There's laughter and cries of dismay over bruised heads and bumped elbows. They end up laying there on the floor, side by side between the two twin beds, shoulders pressed together, giggling over Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, facial innuendos and cock-blocking spa treatments.
Neither of them brings up the events from earlier that day.
Neither of them has to.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When they meet up with the other Warblers later that night—after Kurt had to drag Blaine away from the Rose Bowl game with his dad and Finn in the Extreme 11 Lounge—for their last two performances on the ship, Kurt finds himself hovering close to his boyfriend. He eyes each Warbler warily as they greet them, David stepping up to ask them if maybe they wanted to save I Got You Babe for their closing number, Holden asking Blaine for an update on the game because he totally got sidetracked by some hot chick in the Ocean Bar, Kendrick lamenting the fact that champagne was somehow still a legal substance.
Not one of them brings up what happened at the pool. Not one of them asks how Blaine is doing. And more importantly, not one of them treats or looks at him differently. Not even Jared, who only five minutes after their arrival, makes one of his usual rude jokes at Blaine's expense. No special treatment. No askance looks or wariness. There simply seems to be a silent consensus among them: Blaine is still their unspoken leader, and everyone has a meltdown from time to time.
Kurt's certain he couldn't love every single member of the Warblers more than he does that night.