A/N- So it's thanksgiving today, and even though I'm as English as they come (I am in fact, Queen) I do count myself as an honorary American, so I couldn't let the day pass without saying how thankful I am to each and every one of you for reading and reviewing. It really means so much to me. I hope that wherever in the world you are, you have a wonderful day. :)
The orchestra have a triumphant tour across Europe. Riccardo hails it the best one yet, and the critics agree that right now, they're at the very top of their game. Blaine's name is everywhere in the classical world, and job offers are made to him in England, France, Germany and Switzerland, but he politely declines them all.
It not easy for Kurt- playing the role of dutiful and silent spouse does not come easy to him and he has to fight to hold his tongue on more than one occasion. But the one thing that keeps him going above all else is Blaine's pride in him. He is introduced everywhere, with a firm guiding hand in the small of his back as he greets distinguished guests. If eyebrows are raised, or comments uttered Blaine either does not care or simply chooses not to hear them as he proudly shows off his young husband.
The time they get together is fun; they meet with Jonathan and Teresa in London for a raucous evening out, and take in the sights with a completely over excited Ken and Gill. They tour Paris on their own, hand in hand as they walk along the Seine with Kurt laughing indulgently at Blaine's pallor when he suggests the Eiffel tower- and they opt to take ridiculously silly photos of one another at the bottom instead. Riccardo gives them a detailed tour of Rome then Venice, and by the time they reach Berlin in their final stop of the tour, Kurt and Blaine both feel overwhelmed with all they have seen.
However, there is no escaping the fact that Kurt is lonely. Very few spouses have joined for the duration of the tour, and while Kurt is very grateful for Gill's company in England and Lucia's in Italy, he is still faced with spending long periods on his own while Blaine rehearses or attends functions to which he is simply not invited. He pretends not to mind- he knows how upset his husband would be if he realized the extent of Kurt's isolation, but it's tough to sit alone in a sumptuous hotel room, or wander the Parisian streets in search of a cafe when all you really want to do is curl up in your husband's arms and stay there. The thought of returning to Chicago bothers him for the first time ever, and he knows it's because of the prospect of work. He has already been on the receiving end of a sharp and shrill phone call from his agent, demanding to know what he is doing gallivanting around Europe when he should be attending an audition for Sweet Charity. He apologizes begrudgingly, explaining that he needed to get away, but he is left in no doubt that his contract is on the line if he doesn't pick up work when he returns.
He is crossing the street in Berlin one day- on his way to the concert hall to meet Blaine for lunch when he sees something which stops him in his tracks. An enormous grin forms on his face and he runs, breathless and exhilarated to Blaine, tugging him outside to see.
"Look!" he cries happily, pointing to a large billboard and the news stand next to it. "Look!"
"Joe!"
"That's the poster for his film!" Kurt cries excitedly, "and he's on some teen magazine!"
"Excellent!" Blaine laughs, grabbing several copies and handing his money over. "I can't wait to tease him about this."
"If we ever get to speak to him," Kurt says with a tight smile. "It's been months."
"We knew it would be though," Blaine says, taking his husband's hand and walking along the street. "It looks like it could end up bigger than we imagined. Text him, maybe he'll call."
Kurt waits until he's back in the hotel, figuring out the time difference and hoping that it's not too early, but the second his text is sent, a facetime request is lighting up his screen and he accepts to see Joe sitting in bed, hair sticking up in all directions and an enormous grin on his face.
"Ah, the face of Bliss Girl," Kurt laughs, holding up the magazine at which Joe grimaces. "What an accurate portrayal."
"Behave," he grins, voice rough with sleep. "How are you?"
"Good," Kurt nods. "I miss you though. It's been too long since we saw each other."
"It has," Joe confirms. "I miss you too. I need you and one of your hugs." He swallows hard and Kurt notices his eyes are shining. "Actually...maybe FaceTime wasn't a good idea," he says, shaking his head.
"Why?"
"Because I can see you but I can't touch you and in a completely non-gay way, that does my head in."
"Joe..."
"I mean it when I say I miss you Kurt," Joe rushes on. "This is all wonderful and like some kind of dream but...but I'd give anything to go back to how things were. Going to class with you, getting coffee and listening to you moan about how Blaine always wins at monopoly. All that time we had together, all those seemingly endless mundane moments...and I didn't treasure them. And now they're gone. We're never gonna get those back Kurt and I...I'm so fucking lonely here. Surrounded by people yet completely alone. Hollywood ain't a pretty story, I can tell you."
Kurt sighs, reaching out to touch his screen as his friend chokes on his tears. "Oh Joe. It's not all bad," he tries. "Cooper and Claire are looking out for you..."
"They're amazing," he confirms. "But I needed to find my own place, not least because a pap snapped me leaving the movies with Maddie, and though Taylor was there too my publicist had to pay a huge sum to stop the pictures being published. She's sixteen, Kurt. You can just imagine what the story would be."
"That's disgusting."
"I know. So now I'm not allowed in public with them, which sucks because I really enjoyed spending time with them. I still go for dinner whenever I can, but it's proving to be more and more difficult. I'm sorry," he says, lifting his face to look into the screen. "I didn't mean to get so upset. It's been a long time coming, I guess."
"Don't worry about it," Kurt tells him. "I seem to spend most of my time sitting alone and crying, so it's refreshing to see someone else suffer."
Joe laughs and sticks out his tongue before turning serious once more. "Why are you crying? Are you and Blaine..."
"Blaine and I are wonderful," Kurt is quick to reassure. "No problems there at all...except time alone with him is like gold dust."
"He's doing well, from what I understand? I've been trying to keep up with the tour..."
"He's doing better than well," Kurt says, face lighting up with pride. "He's orchestra leader now,as you know, but Riccardo has asked him to become concert pianist too. They usually use guest musicians, but he wants Blaine to perform some kind of concerto in the spring, and also to play a couple of pieces on the album, which he starts work on when we return. It's like they've stopped asking or auditioning anyone else, Blaine gets first refusal."
"And his song is on this album, yes? And yours?"
"His, yes. Mine, no. Too many complications with song rights or something. But that's fine," he adds hurriedly. "Riccardo still had me record it for them to use in the future hopefully."
"So everything's coming up Blaine then?"
"Pretty much. Joe?" He pauses, biting nervously on his bottom lip until Joe urges him to continue. "Can I be totally honest here?"
"Of course, Kurt."
"It's like...I love it but I hate it. I'm so proud of him, and I'm happy his talents are being recognized, of course I am. He's my husband and I love him..."
"But?"
"But...but...oh crap, I don't even know where to begin, and I'm going to hate myself for saying all this." Taking a deep breath he closes his eyes and just blurts it all out. "I'm jealous, for a start. I want success like that. I want to be offered jobs without having to audition, or having to prove my worth because everyone already has such supreme confidence in me. I want to be the one introducing him to important dignitaries, not the other way around.
I hate that so many people want to get their grubby hands on him all the time...like you, I miss how things used to be, when I'd come home from college and he'd be shut away in the music room, then he'd stop what he was doing and come listen to me talk about my day...And I had stuff to tell him as opposed to now when I either follow him around like a puppy or sit in an empty hotel room waiting for his return. If I'm lucky he'll return around midnight, and if he's still high on adrenaline we might have sex. But most nights he comes in, tired to the depths of his bones and he just takes a quick shower before falling asleep. But here's the thing, when we're together- on his days off or when we go on excursions organized for us, it's wonderful. Everything is perfect and I know that for him, I'm the brightest star in the universe. I don't doubt his love, his intentions or sincerity at all...and that's why I feel so shit moaning about it all."
"But you're moaning about it because you feel like you have no self worth, am I right?"
"Yes!" Kurt cries, so happy to talk with someone who understands him so well. "You know, my dad and Carole keep on about how wonderful it is that Rachel moved back to be with Finn- but she would never have done that if she hadn't made it on Broadway in the first place, she would have stayed there until she'd cracked it, husband be damned. I love her, but she is the most self centered person I know. People say that about me, too, but I'm here, in the middle of freakin Germany, trailing my husband around so he doesn't have to be alone and all the time I'm feeling physically sick at the thought of having to return to Chicago and go through yet more auditions, more rejection, more failure. I feel, honestly, like I want Blaine to say 'enough is enough, I've gotten my dreams, now it's time for Kurt to have a shot at his,' but he can't make those dreams a reality for me. He's made everything else come true, but he can't do this."
"Jesus. Say it like it is, why don't you?" Joe says with a soft smile. "Have you spoken with Blaine about this?"
"Yes. We went through it on Christmas, and as ever, Blaine was perfectly wonderful about it all. He understands, he listens and he gives good advice. But the problem lies with me. And it's not going to improve, is it? Blaine's still on his way up. I don't know how long the orchestra can contain him before he gets offered the mega bucks and quits to become a solo violinist or pianist, and if that happens and I'm still sitting here, attending the odd audition whenever some production gets desperate, then I don't know what I'll do."
"Well as I see it, you have three choices," Joe says firmly. "One, you put up and shut up. Hold your tongue, smile sweetly and let Blaine keep you in designer shoes for you to wear to the crappy auditions. Two: You quit acting altogether. Find a new career. Making clothes, designing sets...whatever. Three: You get back home and really go for this. Attend every damn audition going. Take any role you're offered, even if it means being away from your husband and not attending every concert he's in. Work the chorus roles, the commercials, the walk on parts...just get your name known, and hope and pray that it all comes off for you. But you have to do something, Kurt, or this will destroy your marriage before it's even begun."
"Three," Kurt whispers through a cascade of tears. "I choose three."
So Kurt sets to it, taking Joe's advice and attending every audition that he possibly can. And finally, finally, work comes his way...Just not necessarily the type of work he wants. Soldier number three in a musical version of Chekhov's 'The Cherry Orchard," has Kurt in a snappy mood for weeks. Modelling for a men's sexual health campaign sees him refusing to leave the apartment for two weeks in fear of being recognized- even though it's only his bare back that is used, and when he is cast in the chorus of Blood Brothers, only to find out Santana has been given a speaking role, any self composure he did have left evaporates.
"The fucking bitch!" he rages at Blaine, who- in a rare day off- is lounging on the couch. "She's done this deliberately!"
"I don't think she has," Blaine says calmly, setting his glasses and newspaper to one side and beckoning for Kurt to sit in his lap. But Kurt is on fire with rage and ignores him, pacing the apartment angrily.
"I wouldn't put it past her to be getting tip offs from Martha as to which auditions I'm attending," he fumes. "Just to spite me."
"She's one of your best friends," Blaine reasons. "I don't see..."
"No Blaine," he seethes, whirling around to face him. "She's your friend, not mine. You stole her away from me when I was sixteen and ever since she's been out to get me."
"Okay. I'm not even going to listen to you, because you know that's bull," Blaine says, putting his glasses on and picking up the paper once more. "Santana and Lacy have an apartment, with rent and bills to pay just like anyone else. How can she be out to sabotage your career when you can't even play the same roles? You're being ridiculous. And as for the friendship thing, I might be slightly closer to her than you are, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you, because I know she does. Now either sit down and stop raging or take your childish behavior elsewhere."
He is rewarded a moment later with the loud slam of the apartment door.
By the time their first wedding anniversary arrives, Blaine is walking on eggshells; frightened to voice an opinion about anything for fear of retribution, and not even bothering to tell Kurt where he's going, or who is attending his concerts, in case of yet more bitter retorts. He picks up the phone numerous times to call Wes, Burt, his mom...even Santana, but he doesn't even know where he'd begin. So he holds his tongue, spending less and less time in the apartment and avoiding his husband as their marriage slowly falls apart.
He arrives home from work, tired and despondent and not knowing what he will find. Kurt is sitting nervously on the couch, as if waiting for him to appear. He looks up, stop chewing his nails and tries to smile.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So...I didn't see you this morning."
"No," Blaine kicks his shoes off and settles in the armchair opposite, oddly cheered by the way Kurt's face falls. "You were still asleep when I left."
"I was going to make you breakfast," Kurt tries.
"I didn't leave until ten, Kurt."
"Next time, maybe."
"Maybe."
"So... Happy Anniversary."
"Yeah," Blaine sighs. "Same."
"Blaine? Are we fighting?"
"I don't know what we're doing anymore," Blaine answers honestly. "We've been together six years, it's our first wedding anniversary and I can honestly say that apart from the blip at graduation I don't think I've ever been so unsure about us as I am right now."
"Blaine..."
"This fucking sucks!" he flares, getting out of his chair and beginning to pace. "I wanted today to be perfect. I wanted the lazy breakfast in bed, I wanted to be sending flirty texts back and forth all day, I wanted to come home and announce we were going out for dinner...but...but...we're like this," he finishes lamely, gesturing between them. "Both so immersed in the progression of our careers, so dragged down by bitterness and despair that we've lost sight of one another and what we mean to each other. Kurt, I love you," he says, kneeling in front of him as two tears roll down his face. "You've been angry, upset and damned awkward to live with, but I've responded by pulling away from you rather than helping you, and I'm so sorry. Please forgive me and let me take you out to dinner, I didn't cancel the reservation, just in case."
"You want me to forgive you?" Kurt whispers, eyes searching into the amber, tear filled ones opposite. "Oh Blaine," reaching out, he brings a trembling hand to cup his husband's cheek. "There's nothing for me to forgive. You haven't done anything wrong. Heaven knows I would have walked away too if you'd been treating me the way I've been treating you. I lay awake until four this morning, trying to work out how to talk this through with you. I don't want to lose you, and I wanted to make this the perfect anniversary for you, too. But I fell asleep and when I woke you'd gone and I..." Breaking off, he swipes at a few stray tears before resting his arms over Blaine's shoulders. "I made dinner reservations too, so I guess we each of us better say where and then decide where we're going to go."
"The Hancock Building," Blaine says thickly.
"Same," Kurt smiles. "I should have known."
"Well I don't think we're quite at the sitting at different tables stage, do you?" Blaine says, offering a weak smile.
"Blaine?"
"Yes, Kurt?"
"You won't give up on us, will you?"
"No." His answer is firm, resolute. "Never."
"Even if I'm miserable and grumpy?"
"Even then."
"Even if I start wearing track pants and training shoes?"
"I'd be alarmed, but I wouldn't quit our marriage," Blaine says, starting to smile. "I'd just send you to counseling."
"Even if Tom Hardy came knocking?"
"Well..."
"I knew it!" Kurt laughs, and Blaine joins in happily. "Shallow and fickle."
"Totally." Resting their foreheads together, Blaine looks deep into Kurt's eyes. "I miss laughing with you. That's what's hurting me the most."
"I'm so sorry, Blaine. Really."
"Just kiss me," he breathes. "Kiss me until I can't even remember my own name."
Taking Blaine's face in his hands, Kurt kisses him deep and fierce, pulling apart to leave them both breathless. Their pupils are dilated and their eyes shining, lips swollen and chests heaving before Kurt dives back in for more, falling to his knees and pushing Blaine backwards onto the rug. He falls on top of him, tilting his head to feel Blaine's mouth open wide for him as their tongues meet and both take all the other has to give, pulling at each others hair and groaning as their thirst for one another is finally quenched.
"I love you," Kurt pants, breaking the kiss to stare at Blaine, who is now breathing hard and grinning broadly. "I love you so much." He leans down and places a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then runs his tongue along his collarbone to make him shudder.
"You're going to be in trouble if you...Oh! You did," he moans as Kurt sucks a hickey onto his neck. "I can't go out for dinner with a hickey," he chuckles, but he happily shifts his head to give Kurt better access.
"Yeah you can," Kurt breathes into his ear. "Everyone will know that you're mine."
"Oh god," Blaine moans, rubbing a hand over his rapidly hardening cock. "I'm doomed."
They kiss again, the heat, pressure and urgency building until Kurt gives in and grinds into Blaine's groin, lining their cocks up and rutting helplessly against his husband, who grips his ass tightly and urges him on.
"Go on Kurt...gimme more...I need more," Blaine whines desperately, and Kurt picks up the pace, burying his head into the crook of Blaine's neck and biting down hard.
"I can't," he gasps, "I'm..."
"Yeah, go on. Come for me Kurt. Lemme see you come again. It's been too long."
"Ahhh," he cries softly, and Blaine watches Kurt's face entranced, as his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth falls open in a gasp of pleasure. He doesn't stop grinding though, feeling Blaine's hardness pressing insistently into his thigh as he rubs against him again and again until Blaine's whole body shudders and he comes, calling out Kurt's name and holding him tightly. They don't let go of one another, Kurt falling weakly on top of Blaine, who rubs his back happily. "Well that escalated."
"Ha! It sure did," Kurt laughs, pulling back to kiss the tip of his nose. "It's been a long time since we've got each other off while fully clothed."
"It's been a long time since we've done anything," Blaine says sadly.
"True."
"Let's work at this, Kurt. We're too good to just allow it all to fall apart."
"We are. And you're right. I think we should go out for dinner and celebrate us being us. Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Anderson."
"We still need to talk."
"And we will. We can. Over dinner, if you like? I don't see why not," Kurt says, noticing the way Blaine grimaces at the suggestion. "We both agree we're not giving up, and we both want and need a happy ending in all of this, so let's sit down with good food and good wine and talk about how to get past all this."
"Damnit," Blaine mutters.
"I'm right, aren't I?"
"You are," Blaine confirms, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. "And I have cold, sticky come slowly seeping toward my ass too, making this whole thing even more distressing."
Kurt laughs loudly, rolling off him and reaching to pull him up. "C'mon, let's shower, old man."
Blaine's face lights up at the term of endearment which he hasn't heard for months. "I'd say we're going to be fine, Kurt. Just fine."