Kurt had thought he'd witnessed awkwardness before. He'd been in situations where he prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. But now, he kind of wished a giant bird with huge fangs would swoop in and shatter the windows and fly of with Kurt in his mouth before Blaine tried to open his mouth again. I mean, really? When you start talking about the weather, you're just asking for awkwardness. That kind of talk is only acceptable if your in science class or in the middle of a deadly hurricane.
The smile plastered on Blaine's face wasn't even halfhearted. Maybe tenthhearted at best. He was lucky, though. The nine tenths of his brain that wasn't competing to keep that smile on his face was a million miles away, off in some other dimension, suspiciously one with significant more amounts of cotton candy and sheet music, preferably Top Forty songs. Whereas Kurt was actually in reality, and right now, he wasn't exactly in love with it.
It dawned on Kurt, while he sat on his couch with his knees pulled to his chin and Blaine across the room, sitting in an oversized chair with his eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall to the right of Kurt's head, that the majority of their relationship was awkward. Could this even be considered a relationship? More like mutual confusing feelings for one another that included butterflies and occasional lust.
The "I'm sorry" that followed the silence of the room was unexpected, even to Kurt, who, after a moment, realized the two words came from his mouth.
Blaine looked away from the spot on the wall, slowly snapping back to the reality Kurt was forced to stay in. "For what?"
"I don't know, everything?" Kurt offered, not making eye contact with Blaine. It was funny, though, how sometimes sorry was an apology and sometimes sorry was a feeling. Kurt wasn't apologizing, he was simply stating that he was sorry. He was sorry for every frown on Blaine's face, whether it was Kurt's fault or not. He was sorry that he'd gone all fan girl on Blaine on he'd been forced into a relationship he obviously wasn't ready for, it he'd even wanted to be in it in the first place. Kurt was sorry for himself that Blaine's wasn't perfect, and however selfish that was, he was sorry that everything in his life wasn't perfect. He was sorry David had to ever introduce the concept of puppy love to Blaine, and he was sorry Blaine was oblivious enough to his own and other people's feelings to believe him.
Blaine caught Kurt's eyes for just a moment, and Kurt's breath hitched when he saw his eyes. Blaine looked just as sorry as Kurt, whether for the same reasons or not.
Kurt hated cliches, he really did. But he swore he saw a sparkle in the corner of Blaine's deep hazel eyes. Kurt didn't know if that sparkle was a trick of the florescent light bulb next to Blaine or if it meant something. They say someone's eyes reflects everything inside of them. Of course, who knew whether 'they' were a reliable source or not.
Blaine left the chair, and hesitantly, he sat next to Kurt on the couch, only an inch away from touching him. Kurt looked at Blaine, feeling a little less breathless then what should be normal.
"Listen to me, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "Please don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."
Kurt blinked a few times like that was the only movement he could make right now. This meant Blaine was forced to watch Kurt's long eyelashes flutter and he felt his heart beat a little faster. "In fact," He added, straying to safer, more natural ground. "I'm blaming Wes for all my problems now. Care to join me?"
Kurt found himself giggling like a five year old. "Don't be so hard on him, he's perfectly innocent."
Blaine raised an eyebrow, a smile forming on the corner of his mouth. "Perfectly innocent? Did you hear that phone call?"
Kurt smiled, remembering Teenage Dream being his ring tone, if Wes hadn't made that up. He had to admit to himself he was immensely flattered, even if Blaine hadn't made the connection and all of that was only a coincidence. "What was going on over there, anyway?"
Blaine made a over dramatic sigh at the memory, trying to get another giggle out of Kurt. "Well," He explained, dragging the word, "While we were disinfecting Wes's rug of burnt popcorn smell, you called, and Wes beat me to the phone, and next thing I know Wes is basically beating me up. It was... excruciating, actually."
Kurt released his knees that he was holding to his chest, unraveling him from what was becoming the small, isolated ball of Kurt. "Okay, maybe Wes isn't so innocent."
"Maybe?" Blaine shouted, failing his arms. "He isn't innocent, end of story."
"I guess I could believe that." Kurt admitted, unhealthily amused by Blaine's drama.
Blaine didn't answer him after a few seconds, and Kurt was opening his mouth again to stop the awkwardness plague from coming back, but Blaine started again, changing topic. "I'm sorry, Kurt."
"For?" Kurt asked.
"For being oblivious to your feelings, for misreading everything I ever saw on your face. I'm sorry for telling you it was puppy love and hurting you before coming back and demanding you deal with my ever changing emotions. I'm sorry I'm an idiot and I'm sorry I suck at romance." Blaine went on, and his hand made his way to Kurt's wrist and he gently squeezed it, "Don't be sorry, Kurt, you did everything perfect. It's my fault."
"Oh," Kurt whispered, breathless. His entire mind was on Blaine's hand around his wrist. It was silly. They'd held hands before, when everything was somewhat normal: they'd laced their fingers and sat at centimeter away from each other, so why was this such a big deal? "I forgive you."
Blaine pulled Kurt into a hug, and Kurt held his breath so his gasp wouldn't some out. "Thanks, Kurt."
Blaine pulled away, looking at Kurt, who appeared a bit too deep in thought to express emotion at the moment. But he batted his eyelashes, and Blaine couldn't help but wonder if he was only doing that because somehow he figured out it was Blaine's only weakness.
"So, I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer." Blaine said, digging in his jeans pocket until he found what he was looking for, pulling it out and placing it in Kurt's hand. Kurt only stared at the lavender-colored slips of paper in his hand.
"What offer?" Kurt asked, his eyes not leaving the curious things in front of him.
"You said, a while back, that we could start over, you know? Maybe forget the fact I'm an idiot, and an even bigger one when it comes to romance. I'm hoping, Kurt, that if I'm lucky, you might consider giving me a second chance. And this time I won't have any ideas of puppy love in my thick skull, mostly because I don't believe I'll ever be speaking with David again, ever. Under any circumstances." Blaine said. He knew he should have rehearsed before he went off making speeches. Everything was flowing off the top of his head. Wes would be so ashamed at his disability to follow the plan they'd spent an hour organizing.
The plan was a simple one: shamelessly fan self with tickets until Kurt asks about it. Get Kurt jealous by going on and on about a fictional boy named Lucas who liked strawberry milkshakes and could sing better then anyone, stressing the word anyone. It was now Blaine realized how much of a simply cruel plan that was.
"So, I mean, I know you like musicals. Unfortunately, we're in Ohio... I mean-"
"Ohio sucks." Kurt whispered. Blaine gave him a funny look, but if Kurt didn't say anything soon, his mouth would get permanently glued shut.
"Well, yeah, Ohio's no New York. With crappy low-budget theaters... so they didn't really have any good stuff you like. So I was just... uh, well, I don't even know what this is." Blaine said, sighing. But he squeezed his eyes shut and used every last bit of courage to admit the truth.
"Okay. Alright- I do know what it is. It's- alright, just don't kill me or anything like that- it's tickets to Disney Princesses on Ice." He admitted. "You don't have to come. But I know you like fairy tales and princess stories and all that... I just sorta like Disney."
It was silent for a moment before Kurt looked up at Blaine, realizing it was his cue to speak. He swallowed his fear and forced himself to appear confident, and the truth spilled out, for once, actually intentionally. "Look, Blaine. I should really just hate you. You know that and I know that. But... I can't do it. I just can't make myself hate you, and believe me, I've tried." Kurt said. Blaine looked a tad confused, but more or less worried he was supposed to be hated.
"Blaine, as much as I may appear it, I'm not a love-crazed idiot. I want love, of course, everyone does. But I never really believed in love at first sight, soul mates. It was the kind of thing that kept me going when I felt like crap, but it's like reading a story about a unicorn. It's happy and beautiful and uplifting, but deep down, you know that, no matter how much you want to believe, unicorns just aren't real. I mean, I thought that. But, God, Blaine, when we met and you ran down the hallway with your hand on mine, and you freaking sang Teenage Dream- the little angels that live on my shoulder were telling me, 'it's love, it's love, it's love,' and I couldn't even find that little devil. Then, Blaine, last week, that devil showed up and told me I was ridiculous, and, yeah, what you and me had was only puppy love. And really don't think I should admit it, but-"
Kurt took a deep breath, grabbing Blaine's hand and looking in his eyes.
"It just feels like so much more then that."
Blaine stared at Kurt. He sounded like he meant everything, so much. Blaine wished he could of been the one to find those words, then, maybe they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.
"And so, Blaine Warbler." Kurt said, standing up. "I am going to this whatever with you. I'm going to love the twirly ice skaters, and I'm going to love sitting two inches next to you, but I'm not going to show it. Because, my God, Blaine, I freaking love you, but you still have something to prove to me before I can really trust you again.
"Wait-" Blaine interrupted. He couldn't help but smile. "You love me?"
Kurt, of course, had said it before. But this... this was different. Blaine's head was clear this time, and Kurt was really supposed to hate him. So it was quite a pleasant surprise.
"I didn't say that." Kurt protested, folding his arms over his chest, his face turning deep shades of scarlet.
Blaine stood up, inching in on Kurt, smiling. "You said, and I quote, 'Blaine, I freaking love you.'"
"I- I wasn't thinking." Kurt mumbled, looking away and trying not to make eye contact with Blaine.
"Well, that's too bad." Blaine sighed, throwing himself back on the couch.
"Why?" Kurt shot, almost like he was waiting for an insult.
"Because," Blaine explained, looking at the ceiling, simply torturing Kurt with his suspense. "I was going to tell you the feelings are mutual, but, seeing as how-"
"Blaine!" Kurt shouted, interrupting him. He looked at Blaine, in all seriousness, shocking Blaine out of his playful state. "You mean it?"
Blaine stood up, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder. He stood on the tips of his toes, trying to come off as tall and confident. "Kurt," He whispered. "Of course I mean it. I might be an idiot who just sucks at romance, and I even might have ran away when you said it the first time, but believe me, Kurt, I've never, ever meant anything more in my life. I love you, Kurt, and no matter how bad I am at showing it, I mean it."
Kurt blinked back the single tear in his eye, the one thing reflecting all the sappiness to the situation. "Blaine, you two-faced loser," He said, throwing his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine stumbled back, but caught his balance after a moment. "I love you, too."
The end.