A/N: This is it! Thank you for sticking with me! I won't be posting on ffnet again for various reasons, but I can be found on tumblr (wheretheshadowslie) or AO3 (happylittlebumblebee) where I will continue writing klaine. Thanks again, and enjoy!
Kurt ran an appraising eye over himself in the mirror, twisting his body this way and that to make sure everything was lying correctly. His outfit had been painstakingly put together, each piece collected and analysed over the past few weeks, ever since he had got his audition date. But it still wasn't right. He didn't feel right, even though he had his sky blue socks on under his black boots.
A warm pair of arms slipped around his waist, the familiar press of a nose nuzzling at the back of his neck.
"S'early," Blaine mumbled into his back.
Kurt smiled fondly and patted Blaine's arms, before gently peeling away and out of his embrace.
"Wrinkles," he excused, smoothing down his shirt.
Blaine stood still, looking slightly confused. "I was supposed to wake you up with breakfast today, like you did for me and my audition yesterday. Did the alarm go off? I didn't hear it."
"No," Kurt said, focussing now on his hair, prodding at his freshly dyed pink coif. "I turned it off when I got up. I couldn't sleep. And you know I won't eat anyway."
"Coffee," Blaine said, brightening. "I'll get you coffee."
Kurt smiled, then slowly moved his eyes to the steaming cup of coffee on the desk next to him.
Blaine frowned sadly at the mug. "Shoot."
"I did have to fight for it though," Kurt grumbled. "Rachel tried to force some ridiculous herbal nightmare on me."
"Aw, poor Kurt," Blaine cooed, turning the corners of his lips down.
"Yes 'poor Kurt'!" Kurt insisted. "I still don't know how on earth I ended up living with her."
Blaine just grinned.
Kurt glared at him. "What?"
"Nothing," Blaine said, holding up his hands. "I'm just looking forward to next year. The three of us in this loft, all one happy family."
Kurt rolled his eyes but quickly returned his gaze to Blaine, expression softening. "You are, you know."
"What am I?"
"My family," Kurt clarified. "You're my family."
Blaine's eyes misted over and he reached for Kurt's hand. "You too."
Kurt bought their hands up between them and kissed the back of Blaine's, rubbing it into his smooth skin with his thumb. "I can't wait for this year to be over," he said. "For every time we see each other to not be on a countdown. For you to come back here in a couple of months - having sung the solo that brings the house down at Nationals - and then you don't have to leave again. Ever."
"Ever? Do I get to go out to get coffee? Or go to class?"
"Well isn't someone mighty confident that he got in to NYADA," Kurt said with a smirk. "But yes, you are permitted to leave for classes."
"That's very generous of you," Blaine said.
"I'm a very generous person."
"Oh, I know," Blaine murmured, with a small, delicious grin.
Kurt laughed, his eyes slipping to the mirror, drawn to a flash of blue. He saw, for the first time, that twinkle of a familiar smile staring straight back at him. Something slotted into place in his heart.
There was a knock on the door. Kurt held out a finger to Blaine to hold that thought, and slipped away to answer it. He slid open the huge metal panel to see Burt standing in the hallway, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a gift wrapped in garish paper.
"Hey," Kurt said, surprised. "I thought we weren't going to see you again until tonight."
"Yeah, but, uh," Burt hesitated. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Kurt said, stepping back. Blaine sent him a questioning look from the kitchen but Kurt just shrugged and turned back to his dad. He gestured over to the couch and sat at one end of it, waiting as Burt settled in an armchair. Burt ran his hands over the present sitting on his knees, crinkling the paper.
They sat in silence for a moment, until Kurt finally broke it.
"Dad? Um, I've actually got to be going soon, what did you want?"
"Right," Burt said. "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to give you this before your audition."
He handed the gift over to Kurt with a tentative smile.
Kurt turned the gift over and over in his hands. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to," Burt said. "I think the time is right."
Kurt cocked his head with curiosity and began to unwrap it, looping his finger under the cellotape and tugging. He felt silk beneath his fingertips, saw a glimpse of duck-egg blue in amongst the paper. His breath caught in his throat.
He looked up at his dad, unable to say a word, then dropped his gaze back to the scarf, pulling it free of the paper. It was in an impossibly pristine condition.
"How?" he eventually managed to get out.
Burt cleared his throat. "Uh, well, after I'd dropped you off at the airport that day, I had half an idea of what you might have thought you had to do, so I stopped by the cemetery. Found it, cleaned it, kept it for when I thought you might find you want it again."
Kurt held the fabric in both hands, running his thumbs reverently back and forth. "Why now?"
Burt shrugged with a gentle smile. "Because now you can think of your mom and smile."
Heat prickled behind Kurt's eyes, but he knew the tears would not fall. He looked down at the scarf, his heart lifting, and got up, moving across the loft back to the full length mirror.
He unfolded the scarf and ran it through his hands, teasing out the creases, and wrapped it around his neck. He tied it in a knot at the side of his throat and let the ends trail loosely over his shirt. The pale blue-green of the scarf complemented the muted orange of his button down shirt perfectly.
Burt appeared behind him in the mirror, both hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched.
"I'll get out of your hair and get back to my hotel, but I just wanted to give that to you. And wish you luck today, or, uh, break a leg."
Kurt pivoted slowly to face him, fingers still brushing over the scarf.
"Thank you," he said, a little breathlessly. "For the scarf, I mean."
They stared at each other, both shuffling on the spot, and then dropped their gazes.
"Oh, come here," Burt said eventually, pulling Kurt in. Kurt blinked, and fell rather ungracefully into his father's embrace, reaching his own arms tentatively around his dad and patting him on the back when he didn't really know what to do.
Kurt stepped back quickly, his smile small but hopeful. Burt tried to stealthily wipe at his eyes.
"Right," Burt said, clearing his throat. "I'll be off."
Kurt nodded and watched Burt cross the room, send Kurt a smile , and let himself out of the loft. Kurt ducked his head, the smile growing along with a blossoming warmth in his chest.
Blaine sidled out from Kurt's bedroom, now fully dressed, and made his way over to Kurt. He reached out for Kurt's hand, and Kurt immediately threaded their fingers together.
"Okay?" Blaine asked, scanning Kurt's face.
Kurt nodded, squeezing Blaine's hand. "Yeah," he breathed out. "I really am."
Blaine grinned up at him, then leant up for a quick kiss, his hands gently cradling the sides of Kurt's face. Kurt smiled into it, sliding his arms around Blaine's waist to keep him there. Blaine made a pleased sound and opened up the kiss further, tilting his head and pressing closer.
"Fuck." Kurt pulled back, breathless. "I have to go."
Blaine darted in to place a swift kiss to his cheek and stepped back.
Kurt allowed himself a couple of seconds to gather himself and just breathe.
"You've got this," Blaine said with a confident nod of his head.
Kurt tugged at the knot at his neck. "I think I do."
The knot held firm.
"Name?"
"Kurt Hummel."
"Age?"
"19."
There was a short pause as the main interviewer looked up from her notes. Kurt swallowed.
"Before we start - a word on your appearance. Are you aware for most auditions there will be some form of dress code?
"Of course."
"And you are aware that you will be required to radically… tone down your image if you wish to at least be considered for most roles?"
"Of course," Kurt said, slowly drawing in a breath. "But with all due respect, I'm auditioning as me. You want to see who I am and if I have what it takes. Well, this is me. This is Kurt Hummel."
She regarded him for a moment then sat back in her chair with a small smile. "Song choice?"
"Being Alive from Company."
She gave a short nod and gestured to the pianist to start.
Kurt took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to sing.
Someone to crowd you with love,
Someone to force you to care,
Someone to make you come through,
Who'll always be there,
As frightened as you,
Of being alive