My Reader – Chapter Seven – I've Got A Crush On You
'It's morning?" Blaine asked, rubbing the bandages over his eyes and yawning.
"Yeah, its about eight. I was just going to wake you for breakfast," Kurt said, gently moving Blaine's hands away from his face. "I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you."
"What's on the menu?" Blaine asked, letting Kurt hold his hands for a moment.
"Cream of wheat cereal, toast, and fresh fruit. Or I ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and yogurt with fruit. Your choice," Kurt rattled off.
"The cream of wheat sounds great. Thank you, Kurt. Did you sleep well?"
"Not bad – except when this whiny kid kept waking me up," he kidded.
"I'm so sorry about that, Kurt. Maybe you should have gone home with Dad," Blaine blushed.
"No, I'm just joking with you. It was fine. Are you feeling better today?"
"Much. I didn't need the heavy pain medication after about midnight, I'm just taking tylenol now. It's easier to think," Blaine smiled.
"The doctor told me you should begin to see very soon. He said your pupils were reactive and that was a good sign," Kurt smiled.
"I can hardly wait. For months I've wanted to see what you look like, Kurt. Tell me again, what do your eyes look like?"
"Oh, Blaine. I'm not telling you again. I have told you so many times, and it makes me blush," Kurt admitted.
"Why did you stay with me the whole time? Was it just so Mother would pay you?"
"Oh, my God, Blaine. No, no it wasn't. She pays me to read to you – the rest is because we're friends. Okay?" Kurt said, his irritation clearly coming through in his voice.
Silence.
"I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Can you forgive me? I'm not used to feeling like this," Blaine said.
"Yes, you are forgiven. Feeling like what?"
"Like...oh, I don't know the words to say it. Just never mind," Blaine said, embarrassed because of his feelings towards Kurt when he didn't know how the other boy felt.
"No, its okay. Just tell me?" Kurt asked, afraid that Blaine would tire of him and want him to go back to Ohio now that his dad was here.
"I just...I loved your voice. When you sang Blackbird? It was...it was amazing and it made me feel so much. Out of that whole auditorium, Kurt, it was like you were singing just to me," he said, tears welling in his eyes under the bandages. He reached up and found Kurt's cheek and cupped it in his hand. He was about to kiss him when the door opened and someone walked in.
"Good morning, Squirt," Cooper said, coming over to hug his little brother.
"Cooper – I thought you had to get back to Princeton?"
"I do. I just wanted to say goodbye. I'll be back this coming weekend to see you, okay?"
"Of course. Say hi to the Tiger for me," he laughed and Cooper bumped his nose.
"You're cute. Okay, be good and call me every day to let me know how you're doing. Take Kurt to Dad's office for a tour, I bet he'd like that," Cooper said.
"Will do. Love you," Blaine said and smiled as Cooper hugged him close before sweeping out the door.
"Wow, your brother is a whirlwind," Kurt said, enjoying the smile that was finally on Blaine's face.
"Yeah, he is."
"What tiger?" Kurt asked.
"The Princeton Tiger, of course. He teaches at Princeton, I thought I told you."
"Yes, you did...oh, the Tiger must be the mascot?"
"Yes. Don't you follow football?" Blaine laughed.
"Nope. Never."
"I follow football, especially Princeton, but I know enough Broadway songs to keep my gay card current," Blaine said and Kurt laughed.
The moment they almost had was gone now, and Kurt was so confused by it that he didn't bring it up. Had Blaine been about to kiss him?
Dr. Woodruff came to examine Blaine and told him that if everything was good the next day that he could go home to his New York apartment, though no plane rides for a while. He shined the bright light in Blaine's eyes and the boy winced.
"We're making progress!" he said and was gone the next minute.
Linden Anderson came around noon, bringing a good-smelling bag of food with him.
"I stopped at the Mid-Eastern food truck..."
"I smell lamb, did you bring me Kofta?" Blaine practically squealed.
"Yes, my son. And an assortment of other food," he said as he took the sticks with meatballs formed on them out of the bag and set them on the bed-tray. "I also got Shish Tawook. Do you like that, Kurt?"
"I have never had any Mid-Eastern dishes, except for hummus and the falafel Blaine and I had on Sunday. Can you tell me what all of these are?"
"Of course. Shish Tawook is curried chicken, Dolmas are grape leaves stuffed with lamb and vegetables, Shanklish is sheep's milk cheese rolled in herbs, and Taboulah is wheat berry salad with mint, tomatoes, and lemon," Linden explained as he set each dish on the table. "And last of all, Iraqi Masgouf – which is a slow-roasted fish with pickles and lemon."
"Dad...did you get us dessert?" Blaine asked. He was hungry from having his stomach empty for the surgery.
"Eat your lunch first, Blaine," his dad laughed.
Kurt was forming an opinion of Linden Anderson, very different that he thought it would be. Linden was always laughing, always playful and loving with his sons – then why didn't Blaine mention his dad in all that time?
They ate the different foods, Kurt loving all but the extra spicy chicken dish.
"There's a piece of the Shish Tawook left, Kurt. Eat up!" Linden offered.
"Thank you, sir, but no, I'm practically full," Kurt said.
"You don't like it?" asked Blaine, hearing a hesitance in his friend's voice.
"Well, I'm not all that fond of chicken, and it has a bit more garlic than I normally like. I love the Taboulah, though. That is amazing! And the fish! What do you call that?"
"Iraqi Masgouf."
"Yeah, that's the best fish I ever put in my mouth. I bet even my dad would love that," Kurt gushed. "And he only eats trout that he just pulled out of the river."
"Okay, Dad. I saved room for dessert. What did you bring?" Blaine laughed and Kurt hadn't seen him this animated the whole time he'd known him.
Linden placed several dishes on the tray after clearing up the lunch. He scooped a bit of one into a spoon and put it in Blaine's mouth. The boy's face lit up as he swallowed it.
"Oh...Knafeh! You'll really love this, Kurt. It's a kind of cheesecake, flavored with orange blossom water. Divine."
Kurt took a small taste and closed his eyes to savor the flavor.
Dr. Anderson opened another container and gave Blaine a spoonful, then encouraged Kurt to do the same.
"Oh! That's ...wow!" Kurt said, not knowing how to express himself. "What's in that? It isn't sweet like an American dessert."
"It is actually minced lamb mixed with dark cherries. They're cooked in the cherry sauce then pomegranate pips and pine nuts are added. Technically it isn't a dessert, but I like it better than most desserts," Linden said, taking another big taste.
"Okay, where's the Baklava?" Blaine asked, searching the bags with his hands.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Blaine," Linden said, very innocent while he held another bag above his head. Blaine sniffed the air and then climbed almost into his dad's lap and reached for it, his casts keeping him from being very effective. Grinning as he caught it and opened the bag, took out a piece of the honey-soaked pastry and popped it into his mouth.
"Thank-you, Dad," he smiled, licking his fingers when they were all done.
"Of course, Blaine. I'm so relieved to see you're better. How do you feel?"
"I'm feeling pretty good today. I keep thinking I see a flash of light, but then when I look closer, there's nothing there. I guess I'll just have to be patient," he sighed, feeling for Kurt's hand.
"Yes, thank you so much Dr. Anders...sorry, Linden." Kurt corrected his mistake and smiled at his friend's father.
"You are entirely welcome. I guess there aren't a lot of different food options in Lima, Ohio – though they do have a German festival in September, right?"
"Yes, they do. It's great if you like bratwurst and beer – but not exactly a culinary masterpiece," Kurt bemoaned. "If I want hummus, I have to make my own."
"Well, we'll have to remedy that while you're in New York," Linden said.
Kurt spent the night alone in the apartment but was back bright and early the next day and the doctor allowed Blaine to go home.
"I still can't see, so you can still read for me, can't you Kurt?" Blaine asked.
"Of course. I'm here for whatever you need," he answered, taking Blaine's hand and giving it a squeeze.
Charles, the driver, was waiting outside the hospital for them and Kurt took Blaine down in his wheelchair.
"When do you need to go to physical therapy?" Kurt asked.
"I think the first one here is on Thursday. Will you go with me? Even if I can see by then?" Blaine sounded worried.
"Yes, I'd be glad to go with you. Do you have a doctor here in New York? I mean besides Dr. Woodruff."
"Yes. Dr. Ethan has been my doctor since I was a baby. He was the first doctor I saw when I got back to New York after the accident, so he's aware of all the issues. I'll see him right before my PT. It's in the same building," Blaine said.
They were at the entrance of the hospital, nurse accompanying them when Kurt spotted Charles, there to take them back to the apartment at The Dakota.
The doctor's appointment turned out to be very successful. Blaine's air-casts were both removed after his X-rays and he was given the go-ahead to start physical therapy. They went to another part of the building and Blaine began the road to walking again. Because of the arm healing from a break of both the humerus and the ulna, he couldn't use crutches so he had to use the wheelchair for a bit longer.
"You can do this, Blaine. Just try," Kurt coaxed his friend.
The therapist was supporting Blaine, but letting him put weight on his recovering leg.
"The muscles need to be built up again, they've been inactive in the cast while the bone healed, but you'll get back to walking soon," the therapist said as Blaine took one step after another.
"It feels funny, plus it hurts a bit. Can we work on my arm for a while?" Blaine asked after twenty minutes with working on his leg.
"Sure. Just sit here and I'll see what I can do with it," she said, holding Blaine's arm by the wrist and elbow, bending it to see what his range of motion was.
It was hard work, but Blaine made progress and the therapist told them he would progress better if he had a partner to help him do the exercises. Kurt was shown how to help, how far Blaine should be able to go by the next appointment.
Kurt pushed the wheelchair down the hall and out to the waiting town car.
"Well, that took the wind out of my sails," Blaine complained, "But I think it will help in the long run. Are you okay to help me twice a day?"
"Sure. I thought you did really well in there. It looked painful – are you okay?" Kurt asked.
"I'm fine. I just want to be able to see and to run again. That's my wish for my birthday – to be able to run across Central Park by myself."
Kurt smiled. He wanted that, too.
"When is your birthday?"
"July 7th."
"That is about a month away – I think its doable," Kurt smiled. It would be so nice to walk through Central Park – or even run.
That night after his exercises, Blaine was tucked into bed by his father and Kurt read to him for about an hour before he got sleepy. Blaine yawned for the third time.
"I guess that's good night then," Kurt announced, stretching his arms and yawning himself. He set the book down on the small table next to the chair he was sitting in.
"Thank you, Kurt. It's so nice to hear your voice reading to me. I'm going to miss that when I'm better," he said, sitting up.
"I'll miss reading to you," Kurt admitted.
"I'm going to miss more than that. I'm going to miss you. Will you still come see me? Even after I can see again?" Blaine sounded upset, so Kurt reached over and took his hand.
"We're friends, right? Of course I'll come see you," Kurt comforted Blaine, but the note of desperation in his voice brought Macushla to the side of his bed and Kurt rubbed the huge dog's ears.
"Hey, boy. I can run with you again when I'm able to walk and see," Blaine said to his wolfhound in a soft voice. "Has he been out tonight?"
"Yeah, your dad took him for a run right after dinner," Kurt said, looking at his hand in Blaine's. He wondered what Blaine really thought of him. Did he like Kurt? They had been so close, Kurt wondered if Blaine had wanted to kiss him that once. Was he brave enough to kiss Blaine again? Would that be taking advantage of him? Kurt sighed, this was too much to deal with.
"Kurt? Is everything okay?" Blaine asked.
"Yeah – just thinking. Sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry. Is something bothering you? I can't see your face, but your voice sounds - - I don't know, kind of sad or resigned?" Blaine asked.
"I'm just a little confused. Nothing to worry about."
"Kurt? Can you sit closer to me? I was wondering...can I kiss you?"
Kurt paled, then the blood ran up to his face as he flushed red.
"Kurt? Oh. Did I overstep? Just pretend I didn't say anything, I'm..." was all Blaine said before he heard Kurt stand up and then warm lips gently brushed over his and he reached out, holding Kurt's cheeks and pulling him closer. He put his own lips on Kurt's and gave him a soft kiss. Soft - but it lasted a long time and finally Kurt pulled back.
"Was that...was that what you needed, Blaine?" he asked.
"Oh, Kurt. That was wonderful. Can we do it again?"
Instead of saying anything, Kurt sat on the side of Blaine's bed and pulled him into his arms, placing his lips on Blaine's mouth and giving him another kiss. Long and warm, Blaine scooted closer and then flipped the covers off and patted the mattress beside himself. Kurt moved to sit closer by Blaine and kiss him again, his arms around the boy as he kissed him for all he was worth. It was quite a while before Kurt took a breath and pulled back a bit to look at Blaine's face.
"Blaine, you are such an attractive guy. So amazing – you are kind and sweet and intelligent, just perfect for me," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear.
"I wish I could see you."
"Why? Would you go screaming into the night if you found out I'm ugly?" Kurt asked.
"No, of course not! I already think you're beautiful, Kurt. Every time I touch your face it reaffirms the picture I have in my head of you," Blaine said, running his fingertip across Kurt's cheek, down his jaw. He felt across his cheek, then using just his fingertips he touched over Kurt's eyes, amazed at the thin skin of his eyelids. He pulled back, not wanting to overstep Kurt's boundaries.
Kurt smiled, blushing at the compliment.
"See, now you're smiling. I guess I don't need my vision to 'see' you," Blaine said softly before kissing Kurt one more time.
A bit of dim light flickered across his vision and Blaine shuttered. He didn't want his vision to come back very soon because he was worried Kurt might want to go home. Blaine didn't want to lose Kurt.
"I've Got A Crush On You" is from the 1930 Broadway musical Strike Up the Band by George & Ira Gershwin.