Hey everyone! Hope you're having a nice Wednesday!
Thank you so much for the comments on the previous chapter :) Your support means the world to me.
As always, I need to thank Christine for her help and patience. You rock :)
Lyrics for this chapter come from the amazing song Rain.
Enjoy!
My heart's been broken and broken and broken and broken
But I keep, keep on hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping
That if it keeps on breaking and breaking and breaking and breaking
That one day it'll open and open and open and open and open for you
Hey!
I know we've both been afraid, but we can't run
From the wind and the thunder when we're dancing under
The rain, the rain, the rain
It was too early to do anything but scroll mindlessly through Instagram, killing time and paying no attention to the hurried passengers coming and going. Kurt stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, his eyes filling with tears – he had almost thrown his phone across the room when the alarm had gone off at three in the morning.
A cup of coffee appeared magically before him and he blinked sleepily at it until he followed the hand holding it, then the arm, and up, up, to Blaine's smiling face.
"How are you so awake?" Kurt groaned, accepting it gratefully and taking a large gulp. It was scalding but he didn't care. It was cold inside the airport terminal.
Blaine plopped down on the seat next to him, his own cup of coffee in hand. "I never even went to sleep. I had like three cups of coffee while you were asleep." He must have noticed the look on Kurt's face, because he chuckled. "I get nervous when I fly. I hate planes."
"You're gonna crash so hard when you get home," Kurt snorted, as he cradled his coffee like it was his favorite thing in the world. Right now, it was.
Home. Waking up at three, getting his ass out of bed on a cold December night, sitting in a crowded airport terminal. Everything would be worth it once Kurt finally made it home, once he could hug his dad. He was so anxious to get there already that he couldn't help but check his watch every two minutes, hoping it was time to board already.
It was another half an hour before their flight was announced and they could head to their gate. Kurt sighed in relief as soon as they were in their seats – Blaine had let him have the window seat – and Kurt tried to count the minutes until his feet would be on Ohio soil. How many steps would it take him from the plane right into his father's arms?
The plane's engine began to vibrate as it got ready to depart and Blaine visibly tensed next to him.
"You weren't kidding when you said you don't like planes, huh?" Kurt murmured, tilting his head so he could look at him.
Blaine's jaw was clenched tightly and he simply shook his head. "We're in a tin can with wings, Kurt. Everything could go wrong."
Kurt had to hide his laugh when the lady sitting across the aisle from them glared at Blaine, who was too busy panicking to notice.
"It'll be alright," he reassured him and looked out the window as the plane began to move forward.
Blaine's hand reached for his, intertwining their fingers tightly.
Kurt's eyes snapped to their hands, his breath hitching momentarily.
He had been feeling a little weird since the day he had got the call about being cast in Cats. The way his stomach had twisted painfully at seeing Eli kiss Blaine made him uncomfortable for reasons he did not want to think about.
He had returned to the apartment after walking aimlessly for two hours to find Blaine sitting on the couch, his hair still damp from the shower, who frowned and asked where he had gone. Kurt had said he'd needed a moment to calm down after the good news, and Blaine had grinned so widely at him, so happy for his good fortune, and then claimed they needed to go out and celebrate. Two minutes later he had already texted all their friends and made plans to get together. They had gone out for drinks that night and Kurt had done everything he could to push away that weird sensation that made everything feel so wrong.
He had been so careful since then. So, so careful not to touch Blaine, not to look at him for too long, not to let his heart even lean into the possibility. He had just broken up with Adam, he said to himself, he was just lonely, desperately so. That was all it was.
But now Blaine was holding onto his hand for dear life, like Kurt was the only tether he had left to remind him that everything would be okay, and Kurt couldn't push him away. He couldn't be careful.
"Hey," he muttered, softly. Blaine opened his eyes just enough to peek at him. "Come here."
He lifted his arm, untangling his hand from Blaine's, and let him move as close as their seatbelts allowed him to, wrapping him up and offering whatever safety he could. He rubbed his shoulder and used his free hand to grab Blaine's, their fingers immediately tangling again, slotting together like puzzle pieces as the plane tilted upwards and into the sky.
He told himself the sudden swoop in his stomach had to do with the plane taking flight and not with the way Blaine turned his head and pressed his forehead against Kurt's temple.
He was lonely. That was all. His loneliness – which he had dragged after himself for as long as Adam had been gone – was catching up with him.
His eagerness to arrive in Ohio only grew more urgent.
The landing was almost as bad as the take off, and Blaine's legs were still shaking slightly by the time they got off the plane and headed towards baggage claim. He kept one of his arms firmly looped around Kurt's for support, and Kurt tried not to miss their suitcases while also keeping an eye on Blaine. He'd never seen him looking so pale.
"Are you sure you can drive yourself home?" Kurt asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Blaine insisted, as they wheeled their suitcases towards the exit. "This happens every time I fly. I just need to drink some water and get some fresh air, and I'll be good as new."
"Fine, but you'll have to text me as soon as you get home," Kurt said, still a bit unsure.
Blaine squeezed his arm in comfort. Shouldn't he have let go by now if he felt better? Kurt was about to protest once again, when he caught sight of his dad waiting right outside the gates and his heart sped up.
"Dad..." He whispered, and tugged on Blaine's arm to make him hurry, because suddenly he needed to be right by his father's side or he wouldn't be able to breathe.
His father looked exactly the same way he always did, remaining the one solid thing in Kurt's life – he could always trust his dad to show up when he needed him, wearing the same old Buckeyes cap on his bald head and the same old dark green coat he had been wearing since Kurt was in high school. He knew that as soon as his dad opened his arms to hold him, Kurt would bury his nose in his shoulder and smell his aftershave mixed with the scent of oil and grease that he couldn't shake away, no matter how many times he showered as soon as he got home from the shop.
He let go of Blaine's arm at the last possible second, hoping he wouldn't topple over without support, and launched himself at his dad, who was ready to catch him. Burt's strong arms were around him instantly, chuckling lowly at his son's youthful enthusiasm. It didn't matter how old he got – he would always be a little kid at these moments, when he finally saw his dad after too many months apart.
"It's so good to see you, kiddo," Burt murmured into his hair. He was probably flattening it, but Kurt didn't care, for once. "So good."
"Missed you, dad," Kurt murmured back, closing his eyes and letting himself be enveloped in the feeling of being home.
Burt squeezed his shoulder as he pulled away, saying everything he needed without a single word. Then he looked right behind Kurt. "And who's this?"
Kurt kept a hand on his dad's forearm as he turned around and gestured for Blaine to come closer. "Dad, this is my roommate, Blaine Anderson. Blaine, this is my dad, Burt Hummel."
"Mr. Hummel, it's such a pleasure to meet you," Blaine said, all polite, perfect prep-school boy, offering his hand to Burt.
"Hi, Blaine. It's a pleasure to meet you, too," Burt replied as he accepted Blaine's hand and shook it. "Kurt's told me a lot about you. I'm glad he found such a good roommate."
"Oh," Blaine looked down at his shoes, color finally rising on his pale cheeks. "Thank you. I'm so happy to have found him, too. I love living with him."
"You okay? You look a little pale, son," Burt commented, eyebrow arching in a way very similar to Kurt's.
Blaine kept that polite air around him and waved away Burt's concern. "I'm okay."
"He hates flying. He was shaking like a leaf a few minutes ago," Kurt replied.
"Well, is anyone picking you up?" Burt looked around as if he expected to find someone with a sign and Blaine's name written on it.
"No, I'm getting a rental and driving to Westerville," Blaine explained. "But I promise I'm fine. I'm feeling better already."
"I'm not sure we're going to feel right leaving you here to drive home by yourself if you don't feel well enough for it..." Burt said.
Kurt sighed and glanced between them, "He's stubborn, dad. I already told him."
"Westerville's on the way, buddy. It wouldn't be any trouble at all to drop you off," Burt insisted, because if the rest of the world was stubborn, then he could be even more so. That's where Kurt got his own stubborness, at least. "Unless you really need that rental car, then we'll be happy to drive you home."
Blaine hesitated, biting his lip, his grip tightening on the handle of his suitcase. "I wouldn't want to impose..."
"We're offering," Burt cut him off, his voice firm by gently. "Come on, let's get going. They said on the radio that we're supposed to get some snow and we should try to make it home before then."
Without waiting for Blaine to actually say anything else, Burt grabbed his suitcase from him, put a big, heavy hand on Blaine's shoulder, and began to guide him towards the exit. Blaine looked over his shoulder helplessly at Kurt, who was having a hard time holding back laughter. Once Burt Hummel set his mind on something, there was no changing it.
His truck wasn't parked far away, and Burt ushered them inside as soon as they had put their luggage in the back, wanting to shield them from the cold weather. Blaine slipped into the backseat as Kurt sat at the front, next to his father.
Just as he was turning the key in the ignition, Burt gestured towards the glove compartment. "Check there, Kurt, I think Carole left some cookies."
Kurt frowned as he did what his father said. "Are you hungry? Did you not have time for breakfast?"
Burt grabbed the box of chocolate-covered Oreos from his son and immediately passed it back, as he pulled out of his parking space. "Here, Blaine. Eat something. It'll help you feel better."
Kurt looked back and saw Blaine pause before he grabbed the box from him, his eyes a little wide, the shock obvious in them.
"Do what he says or he'll nag you all the way to Westerville," Kurt said teasingly, but his smile was reassuring.
"Thank you," Blaine said quietly, and fished a cookie out of the box.
Kurt looked out the window as his father drove, asking Blaine a million questions about his life – mostly directed towards his studies, fortunately, because Kurt hadn't had time to warn him not to ask questions about his family. The last thing Blaine needed was to be reminded of his own father, at least now. He listened to the amicable tone of their voices as he watched Ohio pass him by, distantly familiar. It always felt weird to come back here, just as weird as leaving felt. Kurt had always been in a bit of a limbo when it came to his home state – he couldn't wait to run away but he was glad he had a reason to come back. It was a complicated relationship.
It didn't take long until they were in Westerville, and Blaine began to give Burt instructions as they navigated a beautiful residential neighborhood. They eventually stopped in front of a large, gorgeous house, and Burt let out a little whistle under his breath. Kurt had already guessed Blaine's family came from money, considering the apartment in New York they had paid in advance for their son, but it was still a little shocking to witness further proof of just how comfortable they were.
Blaine cleared his throat, far from comfortable himself. "Oh, uhm. Well. Thank you so much for driving me, Mr. Hummel. It was so kind of you," he said awkwardly.
"It was no problem, son. I liked having the chance to get to know you. You let Kurt know if you need us to pick you back up and give you a ride to the airport for the flight back, okay?" Burt said, turning on his seat, his hand pressed to the back of Kurt's for support.
"Thank you," Blaine muttered again, and reached for the door.
"I'll help you with your suitcase," Kurt said, and got out of the car, too.
They went to the back of the car and Kurt opened the trunk to get Blaine's suitcase.
"You weren't exagerating when you said your father was amazing," Blaine commented, scratching the back of his neck. "He's really something."
"I'm glad you got to meet him," Kurt said, as he closed the trunk again. "Are you okay? You still seem a little..."
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Blaine glanced at the house hesitantly. "It's just... it's always a little weird, coming back. I grew up in this house, but it's... I don't know."
"But your mom and your brother will be here, right?" Kurt asked, frowning. "And you're happy to see them?"
"Of course," Blaine replied, quickly. "Of course I'm happy to get to see them." Blaine laughed a little, but it lacked humor. "Sorry. I'm being stupid."
"You're not." Kurt reassured him.
Blaine tugged on his hand and pulled him into a hug. "Have a nice holiday, Kurt."
Kurt wrapped his arms around him for a moment, squeezing a little tighter than he'd meant to. "You too."
Blaine pulled away, grabbed his suitcase and walked up the driveway towards the front door. He put his hand on the doorknob and waved at Kurt over his shoulder before the went inside.
Kurt returned to the car, rubbing his hands together to try to get rid of the cold, and he and his father continued on their way to Lima.
The cardigan slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a dull thump. Blaine sighed and bent to retrieve it, refolding it carefully before putting it into the drawer with the others.
"I don't know why you bother to unpack everything as soon as you get home," a voice said from the door. "Why can't you just relax?"
Blane closed the drawer before he turned to face his brother. Cooper was leaning against the door and looking into his room with vague interest, as if it was the very first time he had ever been here. He looked tall and lean, his hands in his jeans pockets, his hair swooped up perfectly and away from his face, his blue sweater a wonderful match for his sparkling eyes.
Blaine caught a quick glance of himself in the mirror – he felt small and unkempt. His hair never quite cooperated, his eyes were unremarkable, his body was still compact despite the fact that he worked out. Boys – and girls – had called him attractive, but he never felt like it when he stood next to his brother.
Cooper could outshine the sun.
"I don't want my clothes to get all wrinkled," he replied absently, as he closed his now empty suitcase and slipped it under his bed.
"You were awfully quiet during brunch," Cooper commented, coming into the room and dropping down on Blaine's bed.
"Just a lot on my mind," Blaine murmured. He stood next to the bookcase and looked at the mementos from his childhood – sports trophies, books, action figures, pictures from his Dalton days. He always felt like a stranger when he came back here, like he couldn't quite recognize the person he had once been.
It was just weird to be back in Ohio. He had grown used to the noise and rhythm of New York.
"Is that why you didn't come home for Thanksgiving?" Cooper asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"No. It was just too much trouble for only three or four days. School was crazy and I had too much to do," Blaine explained, as he grabbed his desk chair to take a seat.
"Well, you missed Mom's turkey, and it was amazing. What did you do? Did you stay home by yourself eating take-out? Because that's just sad, Blaine."
"I did not stay home by myself," Blaine rolled his eyes. "Our friends threw a little dinner party at their loft in Bushwick. It was... kind of fantastic? I've never met a group of people who can turn any simple ocassion into a musical extravaganza. They're outstanding."
"Are these new friends? How come I never heard of them?" Cooper asked curiously.
"Well, you know Sam. His girlfriend introduced me to my new roommate. They went to high school together and then they all decided to go to New York and try to make a life there. I'm really glad I found them. I haven't had a good group of friends like that since I was in high school."
Blaine thought back to Thanksgiving. It had been a memorable day. He and Kurt had taken over dinner, with help from Mercedes and Santana every now and then. He had loved bumping against Kurt as they worked together, Brittany and Santana singing a love song together in the living room, while Sam and Rachel set the table and Mercedes lit candles. The whole night had been like that, full of food and laughter, singing and dancing, until they all collapsed, bellies full of turkey, pie and wine, and decided to have an impromptu sleepover. Rachel and Brittany had brought blankets and pillows for everyone and they had all slept together in the living room, talking until they fell asleep.
It was one of Blaine's favorite days since he had moved to New York.
"So, what's new with you?" Blaine asked, as he watched his brother stretch his arms over his head. "What have you been up to?"
There were very few things that Cooper enjoyed more than talking about himself. He happily filled Blaine in on his life – the people he met in Los Angeles, the auditions he went to, the role he had been chosen for ("so far it's just a pilot, but... who knows? Maybe it'll blow up. Maybe it'll be the next Friends."), the girl he had been seeing for the past couple of months – before giving him a detailed minute-to-minute recount of his trip back to Ohio as if it was an epic journey instead of a four hour flight. Blaine had mostly tuned him out now, but something brought his attention back.
"... and then I got off the plane and dad picked me up so we could get lunch together before I came home..."
Blaine blinked at his brother. "Dad picked you up?"
"Oh, yeah. You know how he is," Cooper said, shrugging, though Blaine definitely did not know. "He insisted. I wanted to come straight home and see mom, but he called me a million times and it was easier giving in, I guess."
Blaine felt as if someone had used a spoon to efficiently and quickly empty his stomach until there was nothing left there but a gaping hole. So his father couldn't take a moment away from his clients to visit Blaine in New York, but he could make all the time in the world to pick Cooper up at the airport and take him out for lunch. He couldn't call Blaine to check on him at least once a month, but he had time to call Cooper as many times as necessary to convince him to see him.
Blaine looked down at his hands and tried to keep his voice in check. "So how's he doing?"
Cooper sat up to look at Blaine, his face serious for once. "He's still a self-absorbed bastard, Blaine. I honestly only agreed to see him because I thought I'd be able to talk some sense into him, to maybe get him to spend time with both of us before we leave, but..."
"He only wants to spend time with you," Blaine finished for him. He nodded slowly. "I get that."
"It's stupid. There's no point getting upset because of him," Cooper said fiercely. "He doesn't know how to be a good dad."
"I hear he was a pretty good one before I was born," Blaine muttered quietly, and when he saw Cooper opened his mouth to reply, he held up his hand to stop him. "It's fine. Really. It is. I know I'm not going to change him and I know that he isn't worth my time. I tried being a part of his life and he kept rejecting me. That's not what a good father does. I don't need him."
As he said those words, his brain replayed the image from earlier that morning: Kurt stepping into his father's arms for a tight hug, the happiness in both men's faces when they looked at each other, the loving way in which Burt held his son.
"Hey, tell me more about this girl. What did you say her name was?" Blaine said, and he saw in the way Cooper looked at him that he knew exactly what he was doing.
"Her name is Sophie," he replied, and let Blaine get away with it.
Pam Anderson smiled as she leaned over to press a kiss to each of her sons' foreheads, as she had done every day while they were kids. Blaine closed his eyes minutely as he felt her lips pressed against his head and pretended he was a child all over again.
"Alright, I'll be back soon," she said as she straightened up. "Are you sure you don't mind picking up...?"
"Mom, go," Cooper reassured her with the most charming grin. "We'll clean up."
Blaine, who had already begun to gather the dirty dishes, nodded. "Go have fun. We'll see you later."
Christmas lunch had been a lovely affair, with the three of them gathered around the dining table, which was covered with more food than they could possibly eat in one sitting. Pam had promised to see a few of her friends that afternoon (or, as Cooper called them, The Divorced Ladies Crew), and so the Anderson boys had to fend for themselves. They picked up the dishes, put away all the left overs, and then stood before the sink, Blaine to wash and Cooper to dry. Cooper insisted on singing Christmas songs at the top of his lungs until Blaine flicked water at him to get him to shut up.
"So, do you want to watch some Christmas movies?" Blaine proposed once they were done.
"Maybe later? I want to call Sophie, she must be up already," Cooper said, his eyes on the large clock on the wall as he calculated the time difference.
Cooper retired to his bedroom and Blaine found himself alone, wandering around the house. The Christmas tree in the living room was still as beautiful and huge as he remembered it, and it had looked even bigger filled with presents earlier. Blaine now owned a lot more things that he didn't need, but he appreciated the thought both his mother and Cooper had put into buying gifts for him. He wondered why he always felt so empty when unwrapping gifts.
In the end, he went up to his bedroom, and was about to start reading one of the books his mother had given him that morning when his phone buzzed with a text.
From: Eli.
Merry Christmas ;)
Blaine was trying to figure out if the emoji had been a slip of the finger and Eli had instead intended to send him something holiday-related when the text was followed by another one almost instantly – this time a pic.
Blaine blinked down at it a few times, but there was no mistaking it: it was a picture of Eli's dick.
Some other day he might have felt turned on, or he might have laughed at how ridiculous Eli could be. It certainly wasn't the first time he was presented with the image, and by now he was pretty acquainted with all of Eli's body, but... something about getting a dick pic as a Christmas greeting made him feel a bit depressed.
They had never exchanged gifts, though Blaine had seen a rather nice scarf for Eli in a store the previous week and considered buying it. But it was so hard to know where he stood with him – sometimes Eli was cold and distant and sometimes he was all over him. Blaine knew most of their relationship was physical, but he liked to think that it would eventually feel like more.
He stared at his phone for a long moment, before he deleted the picture. He let himself fall onto his bed and stared at the ceiling for what felt like a very long time, before he finally reached for his phone again and dialed Kurt's number.
It rang twice before Kurt's slightly breathless voice echoed in his ear. "Blaine, hello."
"Hey, is it a bad time?" Blaine asked.
"No, not at all. It's a nice surprise," Kurt replied, and there was a sound in the background, like a door closing.
"Just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas," Blaine said quietly.
"Merry Christmas, Blaine," Kurt muttered back, just as softly.
There was a small pause, and Blaine could picture Kurt lying on his childhood bed much like Blaine was doing now, phone pressed to his ear and staring up at the ceiling.
He wished they were back in New York already.
He cleared his throat and said: "So how's Christmas at the Hummel's?"
"Oh, you know..." Kurt sighed tiredly. "Holidays are... complicated."
Blaine frowned. He didn't like how Kurt's voice sounded right now. "Is everything alright?"
"I need a moment," Kurt whispered. "Can you tell me about your Christmas, first?"
Blaine wanted to know if Kurt was okay, but knew better than to push. Instead, he told Kurt about how his mother had decorated the entire house, about her delicious cooking, about all the presents that he had unwrapped that morning, about Cooper's antics and his mysterious new girlfriend.
"You don't sound very happy, though," Kurt commented when he paused to take a breath. "Are you having a nice time?"
"Of course," Blaine said immediately, politeness and manners ingrained in him for too long making him reply before he could even think.
"Blaine..." Kurt prompted, because he knew him well by now.
Blaine let out a long exhale of breath. "Okay, fine. I'm not having a bad time, per se, it's just... part of me wishes we could have had Christmas in Bushwick, you know? And cook and sing and be happy. I don't love being here. I love my mom and I love Coop, don't get me wrong. But... it feels like we're together only because we're supposed to be together. We don't do much as a family. And..." he stopped and ran a hand down his face. It was difficult to put his thoughts in order so he could share them with Kurt. "Well. My dad picked Cooper up at the airport and took him out for lunch."
"Oh Blaine," Kurt said sadly. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. We already know what he's like," Blaine said. He could almost hear Kurt biting his lip on the other end, trying to swallow back all the words he wanted to use to describe Blaine's father. "I know it's stupid of me to be bummed about all this, it's just... it feels like Christmas should be more, you know?"
"It's not stupid," Kurt murmured, and he sounded wistful. "We all want to live a goddamn Christmas movie. It's just that real life doesn't usually go that well."
"What happened, Kurt?" Blaine asked, unable to stop himself any longer. "You seemed happy to get to come back to see your family."
"And I was. I am," Kurt answered earnestly. "It's just... I don't think I told you about my brother, did I?"
Blaine frowned in confusion. "No, you didn't. I mean, I've seen the picture of your family in your room and I know your dad married your stepmother when you were in high school, but... what's going on? Do you not get along with him?"
"He died," Kurt said, and Blaine's blood went ice cold, breath stuttering in his chest. He had not expected Kurt to say that. "When we were nineteen."
"Kurt," Blaine whispered, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."
"It's okay," Kurt reassured him immediately. "You didn't know." He heard Kurt take a deep breath. "It's just... it's never been the same, since. I don't think Carole ever got passed it. I don't think my dad got passed it. I get to pretend, while I'm away, but when I'm here... all I can see is that he's not here. His place at the table is empty. His room is empty. Can you imagine, having to live with that absence every single day? I hate that they lost their son, that Carole lost her only son."
Blaine wanted to say something, anything that would comfort Kurt, but realized that what he needed was to talk, probably in a way he couldn't with his parents, not without opening up old wounds that were somehow still too fresh.
"I miss him, Blaine," Kurt said, his voice so low he almost didn't hear him. "It was hard for us at first, to learn how to be brothers. But once we understood it was about being there for each other despite our differences... it was everything. It had been only my dad and I for so long, it felt weird to suddenly have a bigger family. Everything changed and it was wonderful. And then he was gone."
Blaine closed his eyes and thought about Cooper. They fought and rarely saw eye to eye, but Blaine loved him, and he knew his brother always had his back, even if he was a clueless fool most of the time. If something ever happened to him, Blaine didn't know what he would do. A world without his brother seemed so dull...
He wished Kurt didn't have to know that pain.
"Do you want to tell me about him?" Blaine reached for a pillow and hugged it to his chest as he listened to Kurt breathe in and out, so rhythmically that it was obvious he was trying to keep himself in control.
"Are you..." Kurt began to ask, only to get interrupted by Blaine.
"I would love to," he said.
Kurt exhaled shakily again, before he said: "His name was Finn."
Blaine didn't know how long he laid on his bed, pillow hugged to his chest, staring at the ceiling as Kurt talked and talked and talked about his brother – about the time Finn had dressed in a shower curtain to emulate Lady Gaga and show Kurt he had his back; about the time Finn had believed he found Jesus in a sandwich (Blaine laughed so hard his stomach hurt); about their parents wedding, when Finn asked him to dance with him in front of all their guests because he knew how hard it was for Kurt to never be able to dance with a boy; about all the little things they had shared while living together, all the talks and the silly arguments. About Finn asking Rachel to marry him during their senior year (Blaine's heart hurt just thinking about Rachel, about how she never really dated or talked about her love life when it seemed to be all everyone else could talk about sometimes), only to call off the engagement so she could go after her Broadway dreams with no strings attached.
There were a million anecdotes, and Kurt told every single one with such warm affection that Blaine wanted to reach through the phone and pull him into a hug. He wished he could. He wished they weren't miles apart.
Kurt's voice was a little hoarse when he finally stopped – if from talking or crying, Blaine didn't know. They stayed silent for a long moment, just content with listening to each other breathe, being together despite not being together.
"Thank you for telling me about Finn," Blaine said at last, and Kurt hummed in reply. "I think I would have loved getting to know him."
"Everyone loved him," Kurt said with a little laugh. "It was obnoxious but inspiring, I guess."
"I miss you," Blaine blurted out, not really sure where the words were coming from. But he didn't take them back when they were out. They felt right. They were true. "I wish we were back in New York already. I really want to hug you right now."
"I miss you, too," Kurt whispered.
There was a sound outside his bedroom – maybe Cooper was finally done talking to his girlfriend, or his mom was back from visiting her friends. Either way, Blaine knew he was about to get interrupted. "Merry Christmas, Kurt. Call me if you need to talk, okay?"
"Okay, thank you. Merry Christmas to you, too," Kurt said, and then, after a second's hesitation, he added: "And Blaine?"
"Yes?"
"Don't let your dad being an asshole bring you down, okay? If he can't see how amazing you are, then that's his loss. You have a lot of people who love you exactly for who you are, no questions asked, no conditions." Kurt paused and then said, in a lighter tone, clearly trying to diffuse some of the tension and the pain from their conversation: "And don't forget you owe me a hug as soon as we meet again."
Blaine laughed. "Trust me. I won't forget."
They said their goodbyes and hung up, and Blaine stayed there, still staring at the ceiling, still hugging his pillow. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was enough.
Eventually he got up and went in search of his brother. He was suddenly overcome with the need to give him a hug, as well.
Last update of the year! It's crazy to think 2020 has come to an end. I know it's been a dumpster fire for most people, but I hope everyone can focus on at least one positive thing that happened this year. One of mine was definitely being welcomed back into this fandom after a bit of a hiatus with arms wide open. I wasn't expecting anyone to still be here after all this time, and yet... it's been amazing sharing Flowers in the Window and Sing to me Instead with you this year (and the little S&H one-shot!), and I hope you're ready for more next year. I'm very grateful for your support and love.
Happy New Year, guys. Let's cross our fingers for a better one. Please stay safe.
I'll see you on Saturday for the first chapter of 2021.
With love and gratitude,
L.-