Blaine kept to himself the rest of the week. It was easy to avoid the Broadway group and his closest friends. He deliberately switched his schedule a little, eating in the crew mess hall and not lingering too long. Sticking to his cabin as much as possible, sleeping too much, feeling a bit numb.
A dozen times, he almost went to Kurt's show or to knock on his cabin door. Maybe Kurt missed him too. Maybe he'd had a change of heart. Maybe there would be a rush of emotions and big love confessions. Falling into bed together for incredible make-up sex. Staying up all night to figure out their future together. But he held himself back.
It said a lot that Kurt didn't seek him out either. Kurt could have come to his bar or his cabin.
Fuck fuck fuck. When had everything become such a mess?
Tomorrow, they'd be back in home port, and Kurt would be leaving the ship forever. Sighing, knowing it would be painful, knowing it was necessary, Blaine made some plans.
...
"OK, everybody. I'm going to take a break now," Blaine said with a slightly stiff smile. "Be back soon for the final set tonight."
He rushed out with a quick wave to Florence. He warned her earlier that he'd be stepping out at this time.
His heart was pounding when he rushed to the big hall and found Angela. She gave him a concerned glance, her large blue eyes sweeping over his face.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, seeing how close he was to losing it.
Blaine picked up the wrapped gift he'd asked her to bring, along with the card he'd taken hours to write that afternoon. "No, but I need to do it anyway. I need some closure."
She nodded, passing him a glass of wine.
The show on stage changed to the now familiar background of emerald green clocks, and Blaine's heart pounded even faster.
Kurt came out, dressed like before, but maybe even a bit more edgy. His hair was spiked taller than ever. His eye makeup even thicker and darker. His posture defiant, pent-up emotions barely suppressed.
The audience probably couldn't see the difference, but after so many weeks of living and breathing this man in, Blaine could read him.
The music started, and Kurt tilted his head to a defiant angle. His words soared out, practiced and perfect after all these months of nightly performances. This was the final night, his last chance to do this in front of a crowd. He let his notes hit the back of the large hall, as clear as a bell.
Blaine barely even breathed. He drank in every second, completely absorbed. Trying to remember every detail. He wanted to have this as his memory of this extraordinary man, at the height of his talent. Beautiful and untouchable as a mountain peak.
He was on his feet with almost everyone else at the end of the song, applauding madly. He slipped away from Angela with an apologetic smile.
This was going to be hard, but he had to do it.
Luckily, he was able to find his way through the staff hallways to the dressing room for the Broadway group. Heart pounding, Blaine knocked on the door.
It was opened by Mercedes, her eyes widening when she saw him there. She immediately closed the door most of the way and stood in the gap. Stopping him from entering. Protecting her friend. "Why are you here, Blaine?"
He held up the gift. "Please. I just want to give this to Kurt, and then I'll leave. I need to get back for my last set anyways. Please."
She gave him an assessing appraisal, and then a quick nod. Stepping back, she allowed the door to open.
Even though he hadn't been in the cluttered dressing room before, his eyes were immediately drawn to Kurt. He was stripped down to just a white tank top, with his skinny black jeans and boots still on. He was likely about to clean off his stage makeup. It was a bit messy, the sweat from being under the intense stage lighting making it run.
Blaine saw through all that, his eyes meeting Kurt's and seeing the wary defensiveness there. He was bracing himself for the worst. A scene, a fight.
"I won't stay long, Kurt. I just wanted to say I saw your performance and you were fantastic. You should be singing that musical on Broadway," Blaine rushed to get the words out, and hoped they were clear enough. He shoved the gift and card at Kurt. "These are for you. The last few months have had a big impact on me, and it would mean a lot to me if you could read this card."
Kurt took them, looking apprehensive. "Blaine, I- "
Blaine just shook his head and backed away. "I gotta go," he got out, before spinning to tear out of the room.
He sped through the staff hallways, a labyrinth that snaked back to his bar. Luckily, he didn't encounter too many other staff to run around. Nobody he thought would complain that he was running in a walk-only area.
Slipping through the bar's back entrance, he went to the staff washroom to splash his face, cool off and center himself. He'd done it, the scary thing he'd been dreading all day. He felt better, relieved.
The ball was firmly in Kurt's court now. He could read the card, see the gift, and decide what to do. By the end of the night, Blaine would know either way.
...
Blaine was on auto pilot for the last set. He was good enough at his job the audience didn't notice, but Florence was giving him frequent glances of concern. He just beamed his facade of happiness back at her and played on.
The mask slipped a bit when he felt Kurt enter the bar. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and there was a zing of awareness rushing down his body. He even made a small error in the piano but rushed onwards to cover it up.
He's here. He's here. Fuck fuck fuck...
"This is the last song of the night. The last song of this cruise. Thank you all for coming out tonight, and for those who came out more than once to hear me play," Blaine said, looking around to make eye contact with many in the room. "Endings are always a bit emotional. I'll say goodbye to you now with this last song, since I'll need to leave right when I'm done."
He met Kurt's eyes as he said the last few words. Letting him know how to find him if he wanted to talk afterwards. But in case he didn't, he needed to let this song say his feelings for him.
The ballad started with a simple, pretty tune, something that would sound right coming from a wind-up musical box. Some people in the audience hooted their approval, recognizing it. It was by a popular country singer, but Blaine sang the words without the twang. Straight from the heart.
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have to miss the dance...
His eyes were on Kurt as much as he could take and still keep it together. Emotions colored his singing, but he kept from letting tears escape. He wanted to just tell Kurt that despite things not ending the way he'd wanted; he still valued the time they had together. Wanted to get closure, end things as well as he could. He could deal with the pain tomorrow, when Kurt was truly gone.
Kurt met his eyes, taking in Blaine's message. A couple tears ran down his face, and he subtly brushed them away. At the end, he stood and applauded with everyone else.
Blaine smiled and gave the crowd a few small bows and thank yous, waved to the staff, and slipped out the back door. He dashed to that quiet private place.
Kurt was already there. It was a relief.
Stopping a couple steps before Kurt, Blaine had to restrain himself from closing the distance with a hug and a kiss, as had become normal the past few weeks.
"Thanks for coming to my last show-, " Kurt started, his words a bit rushed and jumbled.
Blaine felt his discomfort. "And thanks for coming to mine too- "
"Of course, Blaine. After everything, this whole tour, all the time together- "
"Did you read the card? Oh, you must have, or you wouldn't be here- "
Blaine felt awkward. It was like they were tiptoeing through an emotional minefield, trying to find a way to say their goodbyes as painlessly as possible.
"Look. Things didn't turn out how I'd hoped, but I don't want that to sour things between us. The card and the gift are to let you know I still think of you as a friend. We had a lot of good times- "
His pretty little speech was cut off by Kurt stepping forward. Kurt's eyes seemed huge, a stormy mix of pain, caring and other feelings. His hands cupped Blaine's face gently, tilting him for a soft, slow kiss.
He pulled back, blinking fast, holding back his tears. His hands dropped down to his sides. "You are a beautiful, talented man, and it has been an honor to spend this time with you. I'm glad you want to stay friends, Blaine."
Blaine nodded, knowing if he tried to say anything he'd lose it. He grabbed Kurt's hand to give it a squeeze, and then had to let go. Turn and walk quickly away.
...
He barely slept that night. He drank, he cried, he played sad songs. He looked through pictures on his phone.
His eyes kept going to the empty spot on his shelf. It was where he'd always kept the item that he'd given to Kurt. A little remembrance of their time together. Would he keep it? Put it in his shelf and think back on his old cruise ship fling, the heart he'd broken that winter so long ago? Would he smile at memories of all they shared?
It had been a gift Cooper had given him years ago, a bit of a gag gift when he first got the piano bar job on a cruise ship. It was a tiny metal grand piano, only about two inches wide, and covered in fake diamonds. When you wound it up and opened the tiny lid, the music box mechanism played the opening of a certain song. The Dance.
Cooper has probably got it more because it was a glittery piano, and like Sam, liked to tease him about becoming a young Liberace. He'd given him a candelabra one year for his birthday, but Blaine had donated it to a charity shop.
It was just as well he'd given it to Kurt. He'd already decided to sing the song to Kurt when he wrote the card. Invited him to watch the last song of his set. A special song just for him. Inviting him also to the area of the deck they had danced on New Years, under the stars.
...
He showered, put on clean clothes and sunglasses. He dragged himself out of the cabin and texted Sam. Soon, he was standing outside the cabins of the Broadway Tour group with a few other friends.
He hung to the back, watching as Tina, Mercedes, Rachel and Kurt said their goodbyes and hugged people. He pressed into the fray, giving simple goodbyes and quick hugs. He could see Sam, the girls and even Sebastian giving him concerned looks.
He ignored them and steeled himself as he gave Kurt a hard hug. "Goodbye, Kurt. Take care of yourself."
Kurt pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, near his ear. "Goodbye Blaine."
Stepping back, Blaine watched as the group moved towards the elevators. Sam slung an arm over his shoulders, tucking him against his side as they moved out of view finally. "You OK?"
"Of course he fucking isn't," Sebastian said, looping an arm around his waist. "That is why this doctor is ordering you to go into port with the two of us. We are going to the worst tiki bar on the beach and will drink until we can hardly stand, and then we are going to grind on hot Cuban guys all night at Twist."
Blaine could hardly get a word in objecting to this before he was being practically carried off the ship. The day was a blur. Sam must have sent messages to everyone they knew, because it was a crowd of friendly faces wherever they went, with everyone buying him drinks.
Somehow, he ended back in his cabin in the wee hours of the morning, the whole day and night a blur. Sam was with him, not wearing a shirt, and tugging at his clothes.
Blaine batted ineffectively at his hands. "No. No sex. Too tired. No..."
Sam just scoffed and pulled Blaine's shirt off with a grimace of distaste. "I wouldn't even fuck you with a borrowed dick right now. You stink like alcohol, sweat and vomit that probably isn't entirely your own."
"Oh fuck, I'm such a mess," Blaine tired to look downwards, and almost fell over.
"Yes," Sam chuckled. "So, I'm going to help you shower and tuck you into bed. I'm staying the night purely to make sure you don't choke on your own vomit before you wake-up. I have no designs on your dumped ass."
"Hey!" Blaine brayed, catching that last comment and shooting Sam a hurt look.
Sam turned on the hot water and eased Blaine into the shower. They were both naked, the space too small for Sam to avoid getting wet too as he helped Blaine. His hands were quick and efficient as he washed Blaine's hair and ran a soapy sponge over his skin, almost like he was bathing a younger sibling.
He was toweling Blaine's hair dry when he spoke next. "I think it will be a few months before you'll be back to your swinging self, Blaine. Give yourself time to get over Kurt, OK?"
Blaine nodded, and slipped on the clean underwear Sam passed him. The shower had sobered him up a little, and he brushed his teeth and drank a bottle of water before getting into bed.
Sam was already under the covers, and he tucked Blaine against his side. Exhausted, he soon fell asleep like that.
...
The next few weeks were like that. Sam slept over most nights, calmly sharing the bed and cuddling against him. Letting him talk about Kurt and cry as much as he needed to. Sebastian and the rest of his crew friends kept him busy the rest of the time, sometimes letting loose with drinking and dancing in dive bars in the various ports, or just chilling with cold beers on a quiet beach. At the piano bar, Blaine focused on high energy songs, avoiding the love songs that reminded him of Kurt.
"It's OK," Blaine said at his cabin door, not letting Sam follow him inside. "I want to sleep alone tonight."
"You sure?" Sam asked, his eyes concerned.
Blaine nodded. "Yup. It's only a few weeks until my contract is up. Might as well get used to sleeping alone now."
"As if you're alone that much," Sam teased gently, an echo of one of their old jokes, pre-Kurt.
Chuckling, Blaine just nodded and closed the door as he said good night.
Would he ever go fully back to how he was? Or had Kurt changed him forever? Would he ever treat sex so casually when he'd had it mean so much?
...
A couple weeks later, he was hanging out at the crew pub on a trivia night. His team wasn't that good and had been eliminated from the competition, so he was just watching the action, relaxed.
Sebastian was sitting at a table nearby, laughing at a horribly incorrect response someone else had given, and Blaine felt a pang of attraction. His eyes went over his long, lightly muscled body, and back to his handsome face.
Sebastian must have felt his gaze, his green eyes warm and interested in return. Ten minutes later, he was bringing Blaine a fresh beer and sitting next to him. Little by little, he edged closer. His leg pressing against Blaine's. His arm along the back of his chair. Leaning in to talk to Blaine over the noise of the boisterous group.
By the time their drinks were done, Blaine took his hand and led him back to his cabin. Sebastian didn't even protest that his cabin was bigger, knowing that this needed to be the way Blaine wanted it tonight.
The kisses felt wrong at first. Blaine resisted pulling back and kept on, trying to relax into it. Sebastian kept it slow, following Blaine's lead.
It grew more heated, and Blaine was able to stop comparing it to how it had been with Kurt. Getting lost to how it was with Sebastian, allowing it. Welcoming it.
It wasn't like their previous hook-ups, but Sebastian was a friend enough to not mention it. He hugged Blaine tight, showing physically that he cared about Blaine too. Close friends. Good benefits.
It was what Blaine needed. He needed to move on. Things were over with Kurt, and he would go on to have sex with other men. He preferred to have this first time with someone he knew well rather than a stranger. Sebastian got that and gave Blaine exactly what he needed. If he had gotten emotional, or needed to stop, Sebastian would have been OK with that too.
They shared light, lazy kisses, and Blaine played with Sebastian's straight hair. The sex had been good, Sebastian was gorgeous and funny, but it just wasn't the same.
"Will you come back in the fall?" Sebastian asked, his green eyes showing his sharp mind. He was good at reading people.
Blaine shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know yet. I warned my boss I might not. She's giving me time to decide."
"I hope you do, but I get it if you decide it's time to move on," Sebastian said, stretching out naked without an ounce of modesty.
Out of all the crew, Sebastian's background was the most similar to Blaine's. Rich families, boarding schools, university. "Have you considered it? Living a 'regular' life?"
"Not really. Maybe in ten years. Still having fun," Sebastian said, rolling on his side and pulling a sheet over them.
He fell asleep, but Blaine kept thinking. Sebastian could work as a doctor anywhere easily and make tons of money. He could have a fancy apartment with a maid. Pay for all the services they were used to here. It could be a fairly similar lifestyle.
If Blaine did it, it wouldn't be so easy. Musicians had a harder time getting steady employment, good pay. He'd have to figure out how to get work, pay his bills, and do everything himself. Could he handle it? Was it worth all the effort?
...
-Thanks for all the reads & reviews! 'I hate mosquitoes' and 'twimmom' (who is a guest on this website so I can't reply directly to) especially!
-'The Dance' is a lovely slow song with a nice piano solo by Garth Brooks (1990). It is fairly commonly used in music boxes.
