Happy Wednesday!
It's been an absolute pleasure reading your comments after the last chapter. I've been looking forward to sharing that one pretty much since the moment I finished writing it. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me.
And thank you to Christine, once again, for being my beta.
Enjoy!
The sun was streaming through the window and onto his bed when Kurt opened his eyes the next morning, feeling strangely rested and light, despite everything that had been going wrong in his life. He allowed himself a few more minutes of apparent peace and stared at the ceiling as he simply breathed in and out, in and out.
As he laid there, feeling slightly comforted by the familiarity of his own sheets and pillows around him – even if the one on the left still smelled like Nick, and god, why hadn't he put on fresh sheets before he slipped into bed last night? – his thoughts naturally fluttered towards his dad, and how difficult it was to think of him alone in that hospital bed. He wanted to rush back to him, and at the same time he didn't want to move, didn't want to see him still hooked up to those machines. He didn't want to live with all that uncertainty one more day.
Shaking his head, he tried to think of something else, and that was when his lips tingled with the memory of Blaine's, so warm, so wet, so pliant underneath him. His whole body seemed to react as he recalled the way Blaine's fingers had pressed against his back, bringing him closer. At least, until he had asked him to stop.
God. Kurt groaned as he threw an arm across his face, hiding away from the sunlight and his own embarrassment. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been, despite Blaine's reassurances that he had no reason to be sorry. Blaine had offered him friendship and a shoulder to lean on so he wouldn't have to face the most difficult time of his life alone, and what had he done? He had launched himself at him only hours after his boyfriend had broken up with him. He didn't even want to imagine the kind of things Blaine had thought about him as he headed home...
And yet, oh. Those sounds. Those tiny, desperate sounds Blaine had made. Kurt was sure he would never be able to delete them from his memory, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
Okay, he said to himself. Admit it, it's fine. You're alone in a half-empty apartment that your ex-boyfriend practically ransacked yesterday. Be a man, and at least be honest with yourself: you've liked Blaine from the beginning, with his golden eyes and cute bowties, and if it wasn't because you've been sick with worry over your dad, you would have been incredibly confused and conflicted. You just didn't give yourself permission to feel anything until last night. And now everything's a mess.
He knew Blaine pretty well by now, and he was sure that when he had said no hard feelings, he had meant exactly that. He would join him and Cooper for lunch today, and everything would be the same, as if nothing had changed, as if he didn't know what Blaine felt like when he was aroused and shifting underneath his own body. Things didn't need to be difficult or awkward. He was sure Blaine was capable of being a perfect gentleman, and so Kurt would have to raise to the occasion and do the same.
Kurt breathed in and out, in and out, once again. He tilted his head towards the window, welcoming the glare of light this time, letting it warm his face, and thought about how many times he had woken up in this same bed with Nick by his side, his arm thrown across his torso, his legs tangled with his. He thought about how perfect he had found it, how much joy it had brought him to be able to do this, to live with someone he loved, someone he could build a life with. Someone who hadn't even hesitated before casting him aside and making a new life all on his own.
He thought about how raw he had felt the previous night, how much he needed something to make him forget about everything that suddenly hurt, and then he was so, so glad and relieved that Blaine had stopped them just in time. Because he had been right – Blaine shouldn't be a rebound, something to clean his palate of Nick. Blaine was special, and if things worked out, maybe...
Kurt shook his head, sighing. There were enough things to worry about at the moment. He kicked the blankets off and got up. Barefoot, he headed towards the kitchen and started the coffee maker – which he had fortunately bought with his own money last year after Nick's broke down – before making his way towards the shower. Once there, he didn't allow himself to think of anything at all, just enjoyed standing under the hot spray of water for a few minutes, before the water began to turn cold, as it usually did if you showered for more than two minutes in any apartment in New York City.
A little later, Kurt stood at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and his laptop. He went through some emails and then looked at the furniture he had saved last night with Blaine. It wasn't an expense he had been ready for, but seeing his apartment so empty right now was more depressing than looking at his credit card bill would be next month.
Kurt grabbed a bagel from the pantry and opened a cabinet for a plate, only to find half the plates were gone, and god, Nick sure was thorough when moving out. A further inspection of the drawers and the rest of the cabinets let him know he was missing most of the pans, but thankfully all his baking elements were still there, otherwise he would have actually chased Nick down and killed him.
He felt like when he had first moved to New York, empty-handed, only a suitcase with all the clothes he could fit in there. He had been younger, filled with dreams and expectations of a grand-life, of success and romance and freedom to be who he was. Now, he felt like a bitter man with a bunch of dashed hopes and just as empty-handed, just as alone.
God, don't go there right now, Hummel, he chastised himself.
Just as he was reaching for the coffee pot to pour the rest of the coffee into a travel mug, already aching to be by his father's side again, his phone started ringing, and his heart slammed violently against his ribcage, afraid the call came from the hospital. He only calmed down when he saw Rachel's picture smiling at him from the screen.
"Kurt, hi!" She said as soon as he picked up. "It's so difficult to get a good enough signal, my goodness! How are you? How's your dad?"
Kurt was so happy to hear her voice, even if he wished he could give her good news. He told her about his dad showing no changes, and then about Nick breaking up with him, which elicited a loud, angry gasp from her.
"How dare he!" She exclaimed, and he could picture her stomping on the ground furiously. "I plan on sending him a very long, very scathing email very soon, just so you know. Don't worry, I've got your back."
"It's fine, really," Kurt said, though it wasn't. "In other circumstances I would probably be devastated, but I have enough on my plate already." He didn't want to think about any of his own woes any longer, so he immediately asked: "How's everything there? Are you dazzling the octogenarian passengers every single night, like you expected?"
"Oh yes, I get lots of requests, and standing ovations from those who are not in wheel-chairs," Rachel said, and Kurt chuckled, despite himself. She had grown up, too, and taken quite well the fact that her success hadn't been quite as spectacular as she had expected when they were still in high school together. "But I get sea-sick a lot, so I'll probably stay away from cruises next time. I like my stages a bit more stable."
After a few more minutes of catching up, Kurt excused himself, telling her he needed to get to the hospital, and they promised to talk again as soon as she could manage to get enough signal for a phone call. Kurt promised himself he would tell her about Blaine – and about Cooper – next time. It still felt too new, too personal, too tender to poke at. There were many things he needed to think about before he voiced them aloud.
On the subway ride over to the hospital, Kurt stood crowded near one of the doors, keeping one hand on his bag and another one holding his coffee close to his chest, as he decided he would make sure to stop by Cooper's room and talk to Blaine. Despite what Blaine had said the previous night, Kurt wanted to be absolutely positive that things were okay between them – even if they never became anything else, Blaine was a good friend, one he hoped to keep even when Cooper and Burt were out of the hospital at last.
Part of him tingled in anticipation at the thought of being something else with Blaine, even if it was too early to be thinking about it. He pushed the thought aside – so many things could happen, and maybe Blaine wasn't even interested, despite what he had said last night. Maybe he had been too kind and was putting him down gently.
God, Kurt really didn't have time for this.
His father was exactly as he had left him the previous night, as if he had been suspended in time from the moment Kurt walked out to the moment he walked back in. With a sad sigh, Kurt walked over to the bed and leaned in to kiss his forehead.
"Good morning, dad," he whispered.
He settled in the armchair, pulling the side table closer, to finish his coffee and start on some work for the day. He told himself he was not putting off talking to Blaine on purpose – there were just some emails that were urgent, that was all. Plus he had already agreed to have lunch with him and Cooper, he was definitely going to see him later. Maybe he wasn't even at the hospital yet. He didn't want to knock on Cooper's door and wake him if he was sleeping...
You're a coward, Hummel, he told himself.
He knew he was. He just couldn't bring himself to ruin the one good thing that had happened to him lately.
Kurt focused his attention on his computer screen, as he pulled up his calendar. He stared bitterly at a few deadlines that were approaching – by the look of things, he would have to call those clients and cancel their orders, which wasn't something he was looking forward to doing. Most of those orders were dresses for small celebrities who were going to slightly bigger events, who were going to be asked about their outfits, and even if his name wouldn't be coming out of Julia Roberts' lips, it would have still been uttered. Cancelling, and especially on such short notice, was terrible for the business, and he was sure he would lose a lot of potential clients over it. But it just wasn't possible for him to spend enough time sitting at his sewing machine to make it happen.
He ran a hand down his face, already tired of this day that had just started.
Kurt finished his coffee as he doodled a few sketches on the margin of his notebook, just little ideas that were popping into his head for new designs, as he told himself he really needed to get started on those phone calls to cancel on his clients. But it seemed those were also awkward conversations he was avoiding today.
Instead, he went back on all the furniture sites he'd visited the previous night with Blaine. He ran his business from his house, often had people over for fittings, when he couldn't move all his equipment and garments to his client's residence or office. He had lost count of how many times he'd had women standing on the coffee table that had disappeared from his living room the previous day while he worked on the hems of their dresses. His apartment needed to look good, at least until he could finally open his boutique.
Kurt was stalling, and he knew it. But he was quite successful, because most of the morning went by while he went from freaking out about his current work crisis to freaking out about his current apartment crisis. He avoided the current romantic life crisis for the time being, but he was sure it would catch up with him eventually.
When he couldn't sit still for another second, he finally stood up, and checked the time. It was almost noon, and he should probably go check on Cooper and Blaine. He stretched his arms over his head, hearing as the muscles in his back popped, and then walked towards the bed, to check on his father like he did a million times a day.
He grabbed his dad's hand and squeezed gently. "I'll be right back, okay?" He told him, even though he was starting to accept it was useless.
He was pulling away when a small shift of his father's fingers made him freeze in his spot.
It couldn't be. Burt Hummel was as still and unmoving as the first day he was admitted. It was all wishful thinking – Kurt was so desperate to have his father back that he was imagining things. He had probably moved his father's fingers when trying to move his own hand. That was all.
He leaned in a bit closer, his heart beating painfully slowly in his chest, as if in anticipation.
"Dad?" He muttered.
As Kurt watched, not daring to blink in case he missed anything, his father's thumb tapped the side of his hand, once, almost in slow motion.
Kurt's breath stuttered in his chest. "Dad. Daddy, god. It's me. Can you hear me?"
It seemed to take forever, but finally, Burt moved his fingers again, a silent affirmation that made Kurt feel as if the world was suddenly filled with color again. He hadn't noticed exactly how gray and depressing everything had seemed in the past few days. A world without his dad... it had never been the kind of place he wanted to live in.
"I'm here," he whispered, as he moved in to press a kiss to his forehead.
This time, there was a small grunt, and Burt began to struggle, his face contorting slightly, as he tried to open his eyes, as if it was the hardest thing he had ever attempted to do. Kurt rubbed his hand in encouragement, until Burt's faded green eyes finally settled, looking foggy and unclear, on his son.
Kurt burst into tears.
"I'm right here," he said, sobs threatening to rip him in half. "I love you."
The corner of his father's mouth tugged upwards, as if he was trying to smile but couldn't quite manage it yet. It was still the most amazing thing Kurt had ever seen, and he could feel already, how the cracked pieces of his heart had begun to patch themselves back together. What would a real, full-blown smile do? Probably cure all diseases, fix world hunger and end all wars. That was how powerful his dad had always been – a superhero in a flannel shirt and a baseball cap, with his hands covered in car oil.
A voice in the back of Kurt's head told him that, no matter how hard it was, he needed to let go of his father's hand and get a doctor. He kissed his dad's knuckles before he placed his hand gently back on the bed.
Everything was going to be okay.
The moment most of you have been waiting for :)
Thank you so much for reading! I will see you again on Saturday.
Love,
L.-