Happy Wednesday!
As usual, I need to thank you all for your love and support for this story. It honestly blows my mind how positive everyone is (except when it comes to Eli, but honestly... same). Thanks for taking the time to read and review.
My love and gratitude belongs forever to Christine, my beta.
Lyrics for this chapter come from the song And So Will I.
Enjoy!
Well, I can't fight your battles
But I sure can hold your hand and promise you
That the sky will still be up there
And the sun will always shine
The stars will keep on falling
For the ones who wish at night
The mountains won't start moving
And the rivers won't run dry
The world will always be there
And so will I
With a quiet groan, Blaine pushed the books away and let his head fall onto the table for a moment. He closed his eyes, willing away the headache that was trying to build from his temples. He was grateful for the silence, broken only by the shuffle of coats or the scratch of pens on paper as people took notes. He could have stayed at the library forever, simply resting his weary head.
It had been a long day, with three private lessons to teach, two classes and then hours sitting at this table checking book after book, doing research for his Musical Bibliography project. As soon as he had started taking that class this semester, he had known it would be the one to kick his ass for the forthcoming months, and he hadn't been wrong.
He opened his eyes long enough to check the time. Kurt was probably already home from rehearsal. He should head back so they could have dinner, and maybe afterwards Blaine would be able to convince him to stay up long enough to watch a movie. He needed a distraction – any distraction – from the piles and piles of work he was going to have to deal with in the next few days.
Pulling himself up from his seat – he had been here for so long he could swear he left a butt indentation on the chair's padding – he began to pick up his laptop, and notebooks. He was in the mood for Thai food. Maybe he should text Kurt and ask him if he wanted him to pick something up before he went home...
Blaine left the library, the early February chill instantly enveloping him, making him stop to adjust his scarf. Everywhere he looked, there were already Valentine's Day decorations. It was as if New York had turned into a huge cloud of pink and red cotton candy. It wasn't cold enough for a taxi, so he decided to walk and clear his head instead. He took his phone out of his pocket to text Kurt, and started to type the message. He was about to send it when he turned a corner, and practically collided against a couple making out against a coffee shop's wall.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized immediately, as the smacking, wet sound of lips breaking apart echoed in the night. He blinked as the two boys turned their heads in his direction. He almost dropped his phone. "I... Eli?"
Eli blinked at him dazedly, that way he always looked after a particularly intense kiss. He didn't remove his arm from around the other guy's waist. "Oh, Blaine, hey."
Blaine felt anger bubbling in his stomach, ready to boil over. "What the hell, Eli?"
Eli finally pulled away from the other boy, with a quick whisper of: "Give me a second, okay?" that only made Blaine more furious. He moved towards Blaine, hand raised as if to grab his arm. "Blaine, let's talk..."
"No, I don't want to talk!" Blaine exclaimed, taking a step back so Eli couldn't touch him. "So this is why you couldn't come work on your project with me? Is this what you do every time I ask you to hang out and you say you're busy?"
"Look, you're clearly too upset," Eli said sharply, as if Blaine was the one acting out of line here. "So if you want to talk to me when you calm down, just give me a call, alright? But you don't get to scream at me like this..."
Blaine scoffed in disbelief. "I can't believe you just... oh you know what, screw you," he retorted and turned around to walk away from them, from the boy still pressed to the wall as if he was ready to resume making out as soon as Blaine stopped being inconvenient, and from the boy who had spent hours mapping Blaine's body with his tongue.
His heart was pounding so loudly he couldn't even hear his own thoughts. All he knew was that he needed to be elsewhere, anywhere.
He wasn't in the mood for walking anymore. He stopped the first cab he saw and climbed in. All he wanted was to get the hell away from here.
Kurt stood in the kitchen, regarding the contents of their fridge. It had been a long week, and it was only Wednesday, and neither him nor Blaine had found the time to go grocery shopping, so the options weren't exactly enticing. He wondered if Blaine would be okay with having eggs for dinner – maybe an omelet? – or if he would prefer to order food instead. Kurt was tired, very tired, after another long yet wonderful rehearsal, his muscles sore in the best way, and all he wanted to do was to eat anything, the easiest thing, and just slip into bed. He had been thinking about sliding under his sheets practically since the moment his alarm went off this morning.
But Kurt was happy, though, if exhausted. He was finally exactly where he had always wanted to be. It didn't matter he was just in the ensemble – he was part of a Broadway production, and it was only the first step. Everything was coming up Kurt.
He reached for his phone, thinking about texting Blaine to consult him on his thoughts on dinner, when the front door opened and immediately banged close, so forcefully it made the glass in the windows rattle. Eyebrows rising to his hairline, Kurt left the kitchen in time to see Blaine coming into the living room.
"Hey," Kurt said carefully. It was obvious Blaine was upset. "What's going on?"
Blaine ran his hands through his hair, breaking off the gel, his curls springing to freedom, and started pacing, but didn't look at Kurt.
"Blaine, come on," Kurt caught his arm to stop him. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Blaine's eyes were so big, Kurt could have sworn he could fall into them, huge pools of honey and whiskey swirling endlessly. He looked up at Kurt, pleadingly. "Do you think we could... go somewhere?"
Kurt blinked in confusion. "Go somewhere?" He repeated, and Blaine nodded. "I guess? But you have to tell me what happened first."
Blaine swallowed and then pressed his forehead against Kurt's shoulder. "I just saw Eli kissing someone else."
"Oh honey," Kurt murmured and wrapped his arms around Blaine tightly, pulling him into a proper hug. "I'm so sorry."
"I feel really stupid and I want a distraction," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's sweater. "Can we please go out?"
Kurt thought about his warm, welcoming bed and sighed. It would have to wait a few more hours because there was no way he wasn't doing everything in his power to cheer up Blaine first. His friend needed him. "Sure. Where to?"
"Somewhere I don't have to think," Blaine replied, only causing Kurt's arms to go a little tighter around him.
Kurt really didn't like the sound of that, but he followed Blaine out the door anyway.
The thumping of a bass reverberated in Kurt's ribcage as he navigated through the dark club, too many sweaty bodies around him, trying not to spill their drinks. He found Blaine at the little table in a corner, right where he had left him, munching absently on a plate of cheese fries Kurt had insisted they needed to eat before starting on the alcohol. He was not getting bat-shit drunk – he had rehearsal in the morning and it was already hard enough getting through it sober.
Blaine reached almost greedily for the beer in Kurt's hand and took a large sip.
Kurt glared at him as he took the seat opposite him. "Easy, Blaine. I'm not dragging you home unconscious." He sighed as he watched Blaine put his glass down rather sheepishly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Honestly? No," Blaine said, running a hand down his face tiredly. "I don't think I can talk about it yet because I don't know what I feel. I'm just... angry."
"It's okay to be angry," Kurt replied, sipping his rum and Coke slowly. He decided this would be his only drink and then he would switch to water. "What he did wasn't okay."
Blaine downed the rest of his beer before Kurt could stop him, and stood up. "Do you want to dance?"
Kurt, who had danced all day, wasn't really interested in doing so, so he lifted his drink and said: "Maybe in a bit? I want to finish my drink first."
"Okay, come find me when you want to," Blaine said, and began to thread through the swaying bodies moving along to whatever electronic music was playing that was threatening to give Kurt a headache soon.
Kurt leaned against the wall, eyes on the dancefloor, watching Blaine as he popped fries into his mouth. Blaine hadn't gotten very far, and he could see him perfectly from their table. He was immediately surrounded by three guys who began to dance near him, getting closer and closer with every pulse of the music, crowding Blaine. Kurt sat up, a little alert, but so far Blaine didn't seem to mind, and though the sight pushed uncomfortably at him, Kurt guessed there was no reason for him to intervene. Blaine had wanted to come to a gay club. This was probably exactly what he had been looking for.
A few guys approached his table to ask him to dance or offer him a drink and Kurt kept waving them away, barely glancing at them before his eyes snapped back to Blaine on the dancefloor, who seemed to be getting more and more popular as the song (or songs? They all sounded the same to him) progressed. Kurt had to admit that he looked good out there – his hair was dishveled, finally free from the gel, and the bowtie around his neck was undone. He kept gyrating his hips in a way that should have been cataloged as pornographic, his head was thrown back, his lips slightly parted, his eyes closed...
God, it was unfair how stunning he was.
One of the guys surrounding him finally moved close enough to wrap his arm around Blaine's waist and pull him close to his body. Kurt's stomach swooped in an unpleasant way and he was out of his seat and heading towards the mass of sweaty bodies bouncing along to the music before he could even register what he was doing.
Blaine had opened his eyes to look over his shoulder at the stranger gripping at him and noticed Kurt joining him on the dancefloor, his lips stretching into a gorgeous smile that had Kurt's heart emulating the rapid boom-boom-boom of the music. He extended his hand towards him, and Kurt grabbed it, pulling him close to him and away from all the other greedy boys looking at Blaine as if he was nothing but a yummy piece of candy they couldn't wait to taste.
Blaine collided against his body with a breathless laugh, immediately throwing his arms around Kurt's neck as Kurt's wrapped around his waist. He glared at the people around them over Blaine's shoulder, hoping he was conveying the heat of his bitch glare even in the near darkness of the club.
"I thought you didn't want to dance," Blaine said into his ear, his hot breath raising goosebumps on Kurt's skin.
He tightened his hold on him, and Blaine was solid and warm against him. "I changed my mind," he practically growled.
He didn't know what had gotten into him – he felt ridiculously possessive, protective. He didn't want any of these jerks taking advantage of Blaine, touching him. His blood boiled with the closeness, with the heady scent of Blaine's sweat, with his huge eyes once again staring up at him, and Kurt felt like Blaine expected him to have all the answers, answers to questions Kurt hadn't even begun to ask himself.
Blaine kept moving to the rhythm of the pounding music, Kurt following mostly by instinct. They were so close, he could feel every inch of Blaine's body against his. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Blaine's fingers slipped into Kurt's hair, tugging slightly, making Kurt's breath hitch. "You know what we should do?"
Kurt blinked at him as Blaine rolled his hips in a way that was plain dirty. No. He couldn't. Was he really suggesting...? "Are you saying...?"
"We should do shots," Blaine said, licking his lips. "Shots are awesome."
"Shots are a terrible idea," Kurt groaned. Everything was a terrible idea at the moment. "Why don't we sit down and talk for a while?"
Kurt made as if to pull away and head back to their table, but Blaine clutched at him, bringing him back against his body.
"Not yet," he practically whined, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Dance with me a little more."
And how was Kurt going to say no to that?
It was past midnight when they stumbled back into their apartment. Kurt grabbed Blaine by the back of his coat before he could face-plant onto the floor, and he cursed under his breath. He should have stopped Blaine from drinking sooner – it had been obvious he was upset and trying to distract himself from it, and alcohol wasn't the best solution.
But Kurt had been distracted, too. The way Blaine had touched him, held him, as they danced... Kurt still felt a bit dizzy. Like the ground under his feet had suddenly disappeared and he'd had to struggle to stay afloat. Drowning, drowning, drowning in Blaine's scent, in the heavy weight of his arms around him, in the brush of his lips against the tender skin of his neck...
Kurt helped him lean against the wall for support as he closed the door and took his coat off, before turning back to Blaine to help him with his, but Blaine took him by surprise by grabbing his arm and spinning them until it was Kurt's back against the wall, Blaine's chest flushed with his.
"Blaine?" He murmured, a little breathless.
"You looked so beautiful on that dancefloor, I just..." Blaine murmured, licking his lips, bringing Kurt's eager eyes down to them. And god, he ached, he ached just looking at him. "I just wanted..."
Kurt's hands flew to Blaine's shoulders and held on for dear life. He was drowning again. "What did you want?"
Blaine's fingers were digging into his hips so firmly that Kurt was sure he would have bruises in the morning. The idea of finding them, dark and stark against his pale skin, blunt memories of Blaine's proximity, made him whimper under his breath.
"Kurt," Blaine said, shaping his name as if it were a moan more than a word, his pupils blowing wide, black swallowing every bit of warm whiskey.
Kurt couldn't figure out who moved in first, and he guessed it didn't matter, not really. Their lips collided, a little too hard, teeth clashing against each other, the kiss already open-mouthed and desperate from the start. Blaine tasted like the sweet, pink drink he had downed at the club before they left, and Kurt found himself licking greedily into his mouth, chasing for it. His entire body seemed to be on fire, flames of desire lapping at him from the tips of his toes, up his legs, towards his crotch and his stomach. He felt wild and out of control, and though the kiss wasn't perfect, he couldn't get enough.
He wondered how long he had been dying for this kiss without even allowing himself to know it.
It was that thought that made him pull away, despite Blaine making it awfully hard for him to do so. He tried to pull him back, his lips so pink and swollen already, so devastatingly handsome with the curls framing his face and the brightness of his eyes. Kurt didn't want a drunken kiss, as hot as it was. He didn't want to wake up the next day and realize Blaine had forgotten all about it. He didn't want this to be a one night stand, or a mistake.
He wanted more. He wanted everything, and it scared him, because Blaine was his roommate and one of his best friends, and this could ruin everything.
But the way Blaine was looking at him... it had to mean something too, right?
Kurt wanted to ask him, but he wasn't sure he could trust the answers Blaine would be able to give him tonight.
He reached for Blaine's hand, a gesture so tender after the heat from the kiss, that it seemed to startle Blaine. He ran his finger over his knuckles gently, and looked right into those hazel eyes that made his stomach shrink and expand, shrink and expand.
"Come on," he said, and guided him towards the kitchen. "You should drink some water before you go to bed."
"Kurt..." Blaine murmured, pleadingly.
"Tomorrow," Kurt said, and it sounded like a promise. He looked back at Blaine, and begged him to understand. "Tomorrow, okay?"
Blaine didn't seem to understand, not really, but he nodded anyway, slowly, a little dazed, like looking at Kurt was too distracting to try to figure out what he meant.
Kurt made him drink two glasses of water and then helped him into bed, not daring to help him change clothes, deciding it wouldn't hurt to let him sleep in his jeans for one night. He removed his shoes and pulled the blankets over him. He was about to make his way out of the room when Blaine caught his hand again, like he couldn't stop holding it.
"Thank you," Blaine whispered, and Kurt wasn't sure what he was thanking him for.
Kurt leaned in and pressed a swift kiss to his forehead.
It took him a long time to fall asleep that night, his lips still tingling pleasantly.
Blaine woke up the next morning with a groan, and the first thing he saw was the glass of water and the two white pills on his nightstand. Propped against the glass was a note in Kurt's curvy and neat handwriting: Had to run to rehearsal. Take these as soon as you wake up. See you tonight, Kurt.
Blaine did what the note said and then buried his face in his pillow again.
By early afternoon, Blaine felt slightly more human again. He didn't remember drinking that much, but it must have been more than he thought to feel like this. Or maybe he was turning into a lightweight. Either way, he wasn't eager to repeat the experience.
He dropped into the first available seat he could find and hid his face in his arms. He was a little early to his lecture, but he was glad for the extra minutes of quiet. His professor had a booming voice and he wasn't looking forward to this class at all. He would have stayed home, but it was a hard class, and Blaine didn't want to miss it. Sometimes the exams were based on class discussion, so he really needed to be here for it and take notes.
There was a loud thud and Blaine looked up to find Eli taking the seat next to his.
"You look like shit, Blaine," he said as way of greeting.
Blaine could feel his blood boiling. "Well. You have some nerve."
Eli arched an eyebrow. "Are you seriously still upset?"
"Did you think I would forget?" Blaine asked back, his words sharp.
Eli ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly irritated. "Look, I'm not going to apologize for what happened yesterday. You had no right to make a scene like that..."
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Blaine exclaimed, straightening even more in his seat. He really couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Did you really think I would be okay with you kissing another guy? Did you think I was going to ask you to introduce us?"
"Blaine, I'm not your boyfriend," Eli said, leaning closer as if to make sure Blaine understood. "I can't believe I have to spell it out for you. We never said we were exclusive. We have fun together, but we never said we were boyfriends. You are great in bed, you're really hot, but you're not my boyfriend."
Blaine blinked at him slowly, feeling stupid. Of course they had never talked about being exclusive. Of course Blaine had never assumed... oh, why had he drunk so much last night? It was so difficult to navigate his thoughts and his feelings when he was like this...
"I don't want to end what we have, because seriously, it's some of the best sex I've ever had," Eli said with a charming wink. "But if it's not enough for you anymore, then you have to let me know, because I don't have the time to deal with jealousy or to explain myself to you or to anyone."
Blaine didn't have time to process his words or reply, because most of their classmates started trailing into the room, followed closely by their professor.
Blaine did his best to pay attention – that's why he had dragged himself out of bed, at least – but he couldn't stop thinking about what Eli had just said. He had been so upset last night, had he been an idiot? Did he really forget what his relationship with Eli was like? It was true that they had never had a real conversation about where they were headed, but maybe deep down inside he had hoped...
Hoped for what, he wasn't sure.
As their professor turned to the blackboard to write something down, Blaine closed his eyes and felt as if he was suddenly slapped in the face. The images from the previous night returned all at the same time, so suddenly that they gave him whiplash. He had kissed Kurt, trapped him against the wall, would have probably pulled him down the hallway and into his bedroom if it wasn't because Kurt put a stop to it...
Oh god, Kurt put a stop to it. What the hell had he done? How would he face his roommate again, ask for his forgiveness? Blaine hadn't meant to cross the boundaries – he never did, but apparently he kept doing that, over and over again. He was a horrible friend...
The professor dismissed the class, pulling Blaine so abruptly from his own internal freak out that he sat there in confusion for a few minutes as everyone around him moved to leave the room.
Eli stood up and looked at him, quizzically. "Are you going to just stay there?" Blaine shook his head and began to shove his things into his bag. "Why don't we go to your place? Let me remind you why our arrangement is so perfect..."
The flirty tone, the sensual smirk... Blaine was so familiar with it. He stood there and looked at him, and thought about Kurt, Kurt against the wall, Kurt against his body, Kurt dancing with him...
Kurt, Kurt, Kurt.
He couldn't think about Kurt this way. It would ruin everything.
It had been an extremely long day.
Focusing on his dance steps hadn't been exactly easy considering Kurt's head was filled with thoughts of Blaine: Blaine glued to him on the dancefloor, sweaty and gorgeous; Blaine stumbling through the front door and pulling at him; Blaine's lips on his, off-center yet perfect...
Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.
He tripped and started all over again under the watchful gaze of the choreographer, but it still didn't mean he stopped thinking about Blaine.
There was something there, he had to admit. They had chemistry. They had become friends so easily, and Kurt had never been the kind of guy who felt comfortable around other people so easily. But with Blaine... everything was different with him. They were drawn together, magnetically, and it was so easy to sit with him, to snuggle against him as they watched a movie, to laugh with him, to share even his deepest fears with him.
And if Kurt let himself be honest with himself, the attraction had been simmering under the surface for months now. And it wasn't something physical, exclusively. Oh, no. Kurt's heart had been compromised, too. He was developing feelings for him.
Kurt wasn't stupid – he knew it could mess everything up. They lived together, they were friends. Kurt didn't want to lose him now that he had him, now that he had become such an important part of his life. But there was something inside of him, something he couldn't ignore, something that told him he needed to take this chance.
And after last night, Kurt was hopeful that Blaine felt the same way.
So after rehearsal, Kurt stopped at Blaine's favorite deli and picked up some rotissery chicken and salad, and some gooey brownies that were still warm from the oven as Kurt walked home, the heat passing through the bag and warming his cold fingers. There was still some ice cream in the freezer to go with them, and a bottle of wine in the pantry. Maybe Kurt could set the table with a few candles, and oh, he should have gotten flowers, shouldn't he? But it was too late to go back now, unless he wanted to risk Blaine making it home before him.
At this point, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he walked in and Blaine was sitting on the couch or already working on dinner. Kurt knew his schedule well enough, knew he only had one class today, so unless he stopped by the library for some research...
Oh, he was a mess already. He felt so nervous.
But he was determined, he realized as he slipped into their building. Even if things had become clearer after last night's events, Kurt had felt as if they had been dancing around this thing for a while now. It was easier to spot the signs, the things he had looked past, the little touches he hadn't interpreted correctly...
They were good friends, weren't they? They could talk about this. They could figure it out together.
With a heavy sigh, Kurt walked into the apartment. It was quiet, so he guessed he had made it home before Blaine after all. He marched into the kitchen, feeling energized and excited, and began unloading his purchases onto the kitchen counter...
"Oh hey, I thought I heard the front door!" Blaine exclaimed from behind him.
Kurt turned around, startled. "Oh, I. Hi."
Blaine was standing against the breakfast bar wearing pajama pants, and nothing else. He smiled shyly at Kurt. "How was your day?"
"Good, you know... same old, same old," Kurt said, wishing he didn't sound like a fumbling teenager. "What about you? Feeling better? You were quite upset yesterday."
"Yeah, about that," Blaine murmured, scrunching his nose adorably and yes, this was it. Blaine was going to bring it up first. "Eli is... in my room."
Kurt had been reaching into a cabinet for a salad bowl and paused. "He's... what?"
"We talked today," Blaine shrugged nonchalantly. "He basically reminded me that we never said we were exclusive, so technically he didn't do anything wrong. He's right. He's not my boyfriend, not really. So, uhm. He's here."
"I see," Kurt managed to choke out, the words feeling like sandpaper on his tongue.
"And I wanted to apologize," Blaine continued, and damn his eyes for being so earnest and beautiful. "I didn't mean to make things so weird last night. I shouldn't have..."
"It's fine," Kurt cut off, because he couldn't keep listening to him. He needed him to shut up. "It's completely fine, really. You don't have to say another word. Why would you need to apologize? You were upset. It's fine to be upset. Sometimes you do crazy things when you're upset, and it's not like I care, it's not like I..."
"Kurt, you're rambling," Blaine interrupted, coming closer, hands raising as if he wanted to grab him, and Kurt couldn't handle it if he touched him. "Are you sure you...?"
"I'm fine," Kurt said automatically, quickly. "Like I said, I understand." He looked at the food he had bought, at the plans that laid derailed in front of him, and he couldn't stand being there for another second. "Okay, so I thought you might still be upset and I stopped at that deli you liked and picked up some food, so you and Eli should eat if you haven't yet..." He walked away from the kitchen, still talking a mile a minute. "I have to go."
Blaine blinked at him, clearly having trouble following his rant, worry creeping onto his face. "Kurt... where are you going?"
"Santana," Kurt blurted out. "She had a stupid argument with Brittany. She texted me. She wants to meet. So I'll go meet her. But I had already bought the food and thought you might be hungry. But I'm leaving. Because of Santana."
"Kurt..." Blaine started again, following him to the front door. "You don't..."
"Enjoy dinner!" Kurt exclaimed, his voice a little high, and left, the door closing swiftly behind him, and right in Blaine's face.
Kurt took the steps two at a time, almost running, until he was out in the street again, the cold night breeze on his face. He stood there breathing, breathing, breathing, and he promised himself he wouldn't cry.
There was no reason to cry. He hadn't lost anything. You can't lose something you've never had.
I was planning dinner, I was planning how to tell him, and he was with him. He was fucking him. I was thinking about him and they were together. I thought he would realize... I hoped he would...
So much for hoping.
DON'T HATE ME. JUST HATE ON ELI, OKAY?
I'll see you again on Saturday!
Love,
L.-