Kurt woke up the next morning alone in bed. Well in a bed. Specifically, Blaine's bed. He blinked, looking around and trying to get his bearings. Across the room was Blaine, who was saying something to someone on his phone, but Kurt ignored that in favor of staring at the beautifully sculpted contours of his back.
It was weird how he noticed the details now. Before Blaine, it was all about abs and eyes and biceps; the typical aspects of the male anatomy that most people admire. But now he appreciated the less notable things. The slope of the shoulders, the slight dip near the small of his back, the little hairs that stuck out near the nape of his neck.
He watched as Blaine ran a hand through his hair, a word floating above the rest of his distracted thoughts: flustered. Blaine seemed incredibly flustered.
His sleep muddled mind picked up on bits and pieces of what Blaine was saying, his voice sounded worried and he was constantly referring to a person named "San".
"San…now's not a good time..."
A horrible thought flitted across Kurt's mind. What if it was another guy? It seemed a bit too cinematic to be true, and Kurt could hardly imagine what San stood for—Santiago? Ew. Sandy? Yeah, right.—so he'd dismissed it immediately.
"God, fine! Fine. Give me ten minutes. I'm indecent." Blaine said, hanging up the phone and sighing, saying a string of expletives under his breath before turning around, seeing that Kurt had been awake and had witnessed the whole exchange.
"Morning, gorgeous." Blaine said, smiling briefly—Kurt self-consciously tried to fix his bed hair—before his disposition quickly changed back to overwhelmed. "I'm going to have to ask a really odd favor of you."
"Favor?" Kurt inquired, eyebrow raised. Blaine laughed.
"God, no. Not that kind of favor." Blaine assured him. "I just…a friend of mine is outside. Like, right now. And I'm trying to make her leave but she won't so…"
"You need me to hide." Kurt finished for him.
"Yes." Blaine said, grinning apologetically. "Only for ten minutes. Fifteen, tops."
Kurt pretended to mind more than he really did. He got out of bed, stubbornly taking the quilt with him. When Blaine showed him a closet he could hide in, Kurt actually scoffed. "Is this your idea of a joke?"
"Yes. Now please get in. She's very impatient."
Casting a glare in his direction, Kurt got into the closet that was considerably smaller than his own. He made himself comfortable on the floor, taking his phone out to occupy himself.
Blaine was having a miniature heart-attack. He had a student in his closet, an uninvited friend waiting at his door, and a killer migraine. He took a moment to pull on a shirt before padding into the living room and opening the door. He was unsurprised to see Santana Lopez in all her glory, donning a floral print sundress, black pumps, an overly expensive purse slung over her shoulder, and an almost maniacal grin.
"Sorry to come unannounced." She said, smirking as she walked into Blaine's new apartment. "I heard you got a new place and I had to come check it out myself."
"A call would have been nice." Blaine said, looking far less amused.
"I did call you."
"Yeah, when you were at the door." He stressed, blaming his headache and the early hour for his inability to keep his patience.
She narrowed her eyes at him before turning on her heels, managing to "accidently" step on Blaine's toes as she did so. Ignoring his cry of pain, she surveyed the living room before humming in approval. Seeing nothing to criticize, she entered the kitchen with him tailing her.
The first thing that she noticed was the nearly empty wine bottle laid out on the wooden table; the only evidence of what Blaine did the night before. She popped it open and took a swig.
"Santana."
"What? I'm celebrating your new bachelor pad." She said, holding out the bottle to offer him the rest.
Blaine took it and thought, fuck it, lifting the bottle to his mouth to drink the rest of its contents.
"Seems like you were celebrating too." Santana said with a knowing look. "Is there anyone I should know about? I assume you've stopped perusing playgrounds for potential suitors."
Blaine sputtered, choking on the wine. He put the bottle down as he nearly hacked up a lung, turning to her warily when the worst of it subsided.
"Holy shit." She said excitedly, pretending to have discovered major scandal. "Blaine Anderson, you animal."
Blaine rolled his eyes, knowing that she was just teasing, considering the only one who knew about him pursuing his feelings for Kurt was Cooper, who definitely was not dumb enough to go blabbing to Santana.
"You've got a sick sense of humor."
"And you've got a sick imagination." Santana countered as she headed out of the kitchen, walking back through the living room before poking her head into the small bathroom.
"Does the plumbing work?" She asked.
"The plumbing's fine." He said, getting increasingly irritated.
"Good. Just checking." She said, heading down the hallway to the only bedroom in the apartment. Blaine felt his heart racing out of his chest, hoping she wouldn't feel the need to go sifting through his closet.
She did a three-sixty, slowing turning in place and really taking in the sights of the room.
"God, this needs to be re-carpeted." She said disapprovingly.
"I've only moved in two days ago."
"I'll help you later. While we're at it we can repaint the living room. I'm thinking a nice olive green..."
She walked across the room towards the closet. "And I assume here is where you're hiding the good stuff. You know, skeletons, all that jazz?" And with that she turned to the closet, handle resting on the brass doorknob.
"Santana!" Blaine said, panicking. She turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "Uh…did you want to go out to breakfast? I don't really have much here yet but there's a really good diner around the corner."
"Sure?" She said hesitantly. "No need to get your panties in a bunch. We'll get you fed."
Santana headed outside to her car to wait for Blaine to get ready, and when Blaine had made sure the door was locked, both with a key and the bolt, he went back into his room. He unlocked the closet door to find Kurt wrapped up in a blanket and engrossed in whatever he was doing on his phone screen.
"Is she gone?" Kurt asked, not even looking up from his screen.
"For now." Blaine said, offering a hand to help Kurt up as he stood up and got out of the closet.
Kurt waited for the ill-timed pun, but when it never came he decided he'd forgive Blaine for making him stay in a closet to begin with.
"I think I'll head home now." Kurt said, not even bothering to change and just gathering his clothes from the previous night, which were draped over a nearby chair. "Last night was really fun. Thank you." He kissed Blaine's cheek, causing the teacher grinning stupidly.
"You're always welcome." Blaine said, grabbing a hold of Kurt's hand and placing a kiss to the wrist. "See you Monday?"
"See you Monday." Kurt confirmed, forcing himself to leave before he got tempted into staying just a little while longer.
When Finn called at nine that morning asking Quinn what time Kurt would get home she lied through her teeth for him without thinking twice about it. Afterward, she called Kurt to, admittedly, rub it in.
He picked up on the third ring. "Yes?"
"I told Finn you'd be home in half an hour. So tell lover boy goodbye."
"Blaine. His name is Blaine."
"Say that a little louder? Just in case the whole world didn't hear you." Quinn snapped, reminding him what this was really about.
A sigh. A pause. Quinn could hear his pride crumble. "Thank you for covering for me."
"It was nothing." Quinn said. She almost said something else. Almost asked him So is he really worth it?
But she refrained. Because she'd scare him away. She needed him to trust her first. Believe in her. Only then would he listen to reason as opposed to the stupid human ailment called the heart.
Kurt drove through Westerville and had to ask for directions only twice, making it home in a little under forty-five minutes. His dad had already gone to a meeting and Carole greeted him with breakfast.
"Just in case you didn't get a chance to eat at Quinn's." She said, setting the plate down in front of him.
It had been a while and he was still getting used to the idea of a mother figure. Carole was wonderful, but he'd never be able to call her mom without feeling like he was using profanity.
Finn sat opposite from him, eating his traditional breakfast of carbs and heart attack on a stick. He saw Kurt sit across from him and grinned, the chewed food in his mouth completely exposed and causing Kurt to look back in disgust.
Finn realized his error, closed his mouth, and mumbled, "Sorry." and Kurt simply shook his head fondly, waiting for the day that Finn would realize that apologies weren't necessary between them. They were implied and never needed to be said.
After Finn finished his third glass of orange juice he got up from the table. "Wanna go to Puck's house later?"
"Depends. Do you two have anything planned aside from playing video games?" Kurt asked.
"We're also gonna talk about Rachel and Lauren." Finn said honestly.
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll miss this one. Send my regards to Noah."
"Your loss, dude." Finn said, passing him to exit the kitchen and probably change into a random t-shirt he found lying on the floor before he left.
The only people left in the kitchen were Kurt and Carole, who was busy washing the dishes in the sink. Impulsively, Kurt stood alongside her and picked up a sponge, helping her.
"You should go out." Carole said after a moment of silence. "Call Mercedes."
"She's at church."
"Rachel?"
Kurt scoffed. "And interrupt her morning yoga?"
"Then go with Finn. " Carole suggested. Well, more like ordered.
"But Carole." Kurt all but whined.
"Go. And, for the love of god, make sure Finn puts on a clean shirt before you do."
And that's how Kurt ended up spending his Sunday at Noah Puckerman's house.
Puck's room was a disaster, but Kurt hadn't expected much less. Between the plastic cups littered all over the floor and the photos of scantily clothed chicks on motorcycles papering his wall, Kurt didn't know which one to grimace at first. He had a loveseat in front of his TV that looked like it might have been the product of dumpster diving. Puck and Finn immediately sat down on it.
Kurt settled on sitting on the edge of his bed—trying his best not to imagine the monstrosities that probably occurred on the mattress—and watched the two of them set up the game console.
"Are you sure you don't want to play?" Finn asked. "We'd go easy on you."
"He'd would have to go easy on you. He beats you like, every time, dude."
"Not everytime. Sometimes I let you win, don't I?"
"Not that I can recall." Kurt answered truthfully; internally grinning at the glare Finn shot his way.
He spent the next half hour listening to Finn and Puck yell at each other and violently press buttons on their controllers. They had a "no pausing" rule so whenever one of them had to go to the bathroom Kurt stepped in for them and played until they got back. Eventually the three of them got hungry and went downstairs to the kitchen, which was completely barren, so they put money together for some pizza.
And, admittedly, Kurt sort of had fun. God damn it, Carole.
They moved their operations to Puck's living room as they waited on the pizza.
It was right around the time that Puck and Finn started talking chicks that Kurt successfully checked out of the conversation. He scrolled through facebook on his phone, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at some of the ridiculous statuses he was reading.
His facebook stalking was interrupted by a text he'd gotten from Blaine.
Blaine: So…sorry about this morning. Again.
Kurt: It's fine. I didn't mind the closet. I'm adaptable.
Blaine: I can't tell whether you're being witty or literal.
Kurt: Aren't I allowed to be both?
Blaine: Ha. I suppose. Also, sorry about last night.
Kurt: What about last night?
Blaine: The part where I scared you just to prove a point. I just get very…passionate. I'm sorry.
Kurt: It's fine. You weren't wrong.
Blaine: I was a little wrong..But you did look pretty great underneath me.
Kurt nearly choked on the air he was breathing, for god's sake. Blaine couldn't just say things like that without at least a three day warning written in advance. He texted him just that.
It was as he waited for a reply that he realized the room had gone uncharacteristically silent. He turned to see Puck and Finn regarding him, Puck with a weirdly proud grin and Finn resembling someone who might be suffering from food poisoning.
"I know that face." Puck said. "That is the face of someone about to get it in."
"It's not that Chandler dude, is it?" Finn asked, on the verge of scowling.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "No. Chandler and I are just friends, remember?"
"So it's someone else." Puck reasoned, wearing a wolfish grin. "Damn, you work fast."
Kurt thanked the deities that he had Finn as a step- brother as opposed to Puck. He may not be book smart, but the ex-convict had a way of knowing things.
"It's actually Quinn, genius." Kurt quipped. "We're on prom committee together, remember?"
Puck seemed to scowl at the mention of Quinn, something Kurt knew was a sore topic for him. But it took the attention away from the truth and that's all that really mattered.
"Whatever. Can't you talk about that girly shit with her some other time?" Puck said.
"Dude." Finn warned, narrowing his eyes at Puck.
"I'm just saying." Puck said, and Kurt was getting ready to tell him exactly what he thought of Puck's opinion, but like a godsend the bell rang for their pizza.
And, as any teenager knows, pizza solves every problem. Tension dissolved as soon as Puck took his first bite, and soon they were talking glee club songs, all hurtful words and forbidden topics forgotten.
"How did breakfast go?" Kurt asked, lying in bed that night as he talked to Blaine. He'd finished most of his work and had been half-heartedly skimming his copy of "The Glass Menagerie" when Blaine called.
"It was great. Santana spent most of the time ranting about wedding plans. You know, flowers, color schemes, all that dull stuff." Blaine explained. "I won't bore you with the details."
Kurt would have loved the details, but decided not to hint at that. "When's the wedding?"
"Next Summer." Blaine said. "I promised her I'd be in New York for the wedding but she's hell-bent on having me go back with her this week."
"That would be more than a year in advance." Kurt pointed out, confused.
Blaine laughed a little, but the sound did nothing to assuage Kurt's suspicion. "Exactly. She wants me to move in with her. In New York. Crazy, right?"
Kurt couldn't help but wonder if Blaine was at least tempted by the offer. New York had been his dream before Sebastian's job in Ohio came into the picture. And Blaine was smart. Probably the smartest guy Kurt knew. He'd do well in New York. He'd have no problem finding a job. And in the next ten or twenty years he'd probably be accepting a Nobel Prize for discovering the cure to aids or cancer.
No one in their right mind would give up such an amazing opportunity.
Blaine must have read into the silence. "Kurt? You still there?"
"Yes."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
There was quiet, as if Blaine was choosing his next words very carefully.
"We don't need to keep secrets from each other, right?" He settled on saying. And Kurt supposed he had a point. But he didn't want to seem immature; didn't want to stir up trouble over something so menial.
But he didn't want to lie to Blaine, either.
"I'm worried. About..." Kurt trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. "About everything, I guess. There's no one really holding you to Ohio anymore."
And then Blaine laughed. Something Kurt would have thought of as mocking had it not been for the gentle timbre of it.
"You don't get it, do you?" Blaine asked, sounding almost in awe at the fact. "You don't understand how I feel about you."
Blaine was right. Kurt didn't understand. He couldn't imagine what it would be like, to be so important to someone to make them stay when all they wanted to do was leave.
"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." Blaine assured him. "So do us both a favor and stop worrying so much."
And Kurt believed him.