A/N: Welcome back and happy, happy Wednesday! Thank you so much for the continued support on this story. It's so exciting that people are actually reading this! I'm excited to share this chapter; a lot of good relationship building in this one. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Chapter 6
"Are you excited?" Darla asked, sitting on the front porch with a wide grin pointed at Kurt.
"I don't know if excited is the right word. I hardly know the guy, so as far as I'm concerned this may be the last time you see me and the last anyone ever sees of my body." Kurt said.
"But you still agreed to go," Darla countered and to that, Kurt could only nod.
After the highly emotional night before that should have left Kurt paralyzed in embarrassment but for some reason had only calmed him, Blaine had walked Kurt to the parking lot and told him to wear his swim suit and that he'd be by to pick him up in the morning. No further directions or instructions. And Kurt, in a totally out of character move, had just agreed. No coercion, no complaining about how he didn't like surprises, nothing. He just said yes. And honestly? Kurt was a little too exhausted to analyze why this was so he was just going with it. Fuck it, why not?
As if on cue, a truck rumbled down the street and pulled into the driveway. Blaine stepped out and shot Darla a big smile and wave, "Hey there Ms. Darla!"
Darla smiled back, just as wide, "Hey darlin'!" she hollered back, staying firmly planted in her rocking chair in the shade.
Kurt downed the last of his lemonade and stepped out into the scorching sun, making his way toward Blaine, limp concealed fairly well. He wasn't hurting as bad as the day before but the ache in his legs and back was becoming a little more persistent. A little more constant. And it was terrifying.
But Kurt pushed that thought away as he neared Blaine, "Hey," he said, feeling an easy smile pull at his lips as Blaine's warm eyes landed on him.
"Hey Hummel," he replied, "you ready to go swimming?"
Kurt laughed and motioned down toward his short swim trunks that he was wearing, "Obviously."
Blaine just shook his head with a fond smile and got back into the driver's seat. He rolled his window down as Darla called out, "Bring him back in one piece please!"
"No promises but I'll do my best!" was Blaine's reply. Kurt glared at him and Blaine laughed. And off they went.
It seemed totally random when about a half hour or so later, Blaine abruptly pulled over to the side of the road, in the middle of heavily wooded nowhere.
As if sensing Kurt's question, Blaine turned to him and smiled, "We're here."
"Umm...okay, Blaine? I don't know if you know this but I think to swim, you need water."
Blaine just rolled his eyes and got out of the truck. Kurt followed because, I mean, what else was he going to do?
"Yeah, I'm well aware, Hummel. And there is water," He paused, looking into the trees, "Down there."
"Down there?" Kurt echoed, his eyebrows basically a part of his hairline now. "Down where?"
Blaine just laughed. He seemed so much happier than when Kurt had first met him. Gone were any traces of the hateful grump he'd met what felt like a lifetime ago. "You sound like a Dr. Suess book," Blaine joked, heading into the dense trees like it was a totally normal activity. Kurt followed because, once again, what else was he going to do?
"We have to climb down there. Just a short little hike, I promise. It's nothing too outrageous, city kid." Blaine said, shooting him a smirk.
"City kid, Hummel...I have a name you know," Kurt huffed, not really all that annoyed. He kind of liked that Blaine had nicknames for him.
"I know you do," Blaine said, "Hummel." Kurt groaned as Blaine laughed.
The mini hike really wasn't that bad, even if Kurt was terrified that he'd get home to realize he'd picked up a few ticks. The trees were thick and lush in their greenery. Summer was in full swing already and Kurt wondered if it ever actually ended here. Kurt couldn't imagine this place anything other than lively and buzzing with insects and humidity.
The soft forest floor slowly morphed into something rockier, something more akin to gravel as they slowly wound down what almost seemed like a vague, man-made path. Surely enough, Kurt realized, they were heading downward. It was subtle but definite. And then Kurt heard it. The gentle rushing of water, the trickle of a river.
The trees grew sparser until Kurt could see the forest give way entirely to a rocky beach and a river, with water that ran absolutely clear. It was beautiful.
"This is the local swimming hole," Blaine explained, arms stretched wide as if showing the place off. "I wanted to get here early so there wouldn't be so many people. By afternoon, this place will be crawling with locals."
Kurt nodded, laying out his towel next to Blaine's, still surveying his surprisingly peaceful surroundings.
"Come on!" Blaine called, somehow slipping away while Kurt was busy being lost in his thoughts and already waist deep in the water. "The water is perfect!"
Kurt took his shirt off and approached but instantly hissed when he tested the water with his toe. "It's fucking freezing!"
"Exactly! You're always complaining about how hot it is here." Blaine called back, wading even further out into the river.
To that, Kurt had no response. He'd assumed most of his complaining had been in his head only, but it seemed entirely too possible that he'd taken to repeating it aloud to anyone who would listen. Taking a deep breath he dove in: literally. The shock of the water almost knocked him breathless, but as he resurfaced, it felt like his body had already recalibrated. It really did feel nice in contrast to the gross humid soup they called air here.
"Not bad, huh?" Blaine said, swimming over to Kurt, his curls heavy with water, his tanned skin damn near golden in this morning light.
Kurt just scoffed and, in a very mature move, dunked Blaine's head. Blaine popped back up, sputtering out a fine mist of water, eyes huge and hazel as he looked at Kurt in shock. Kurt's giggle was what apparently brought him back to reality as a huge crocodile smile invaded his face. "Oh, it's on Hummel."
Kurt shrieked, narrowly avoiding Blaine's lunge and began swimming away. But his laughter slowed him down substantially and Blaine caught him, dunking him under as well. Kurt of a few weeks ago would have raged over how he'd messed up his hair. But Kurt of right now? Kurt of right now was thankful he wasn't hurting. Kurt of right now was thankful to have found a friend. One that made everything feel normal, better, more...more something. His hair would survive one day of river water.
They swam and chased each other like a couple of kids until they dragged their bone tired bodies out of the water, still chuckling and flopped themselves down on their towels.
After the icy water, the warm sun and thick air felt heavenly. "I could fall asleep right now." Kurt said, words already a little slurred.
Blaine laughed softly, "Oh no you don't Hummel. I don't want to see the degree of sunburn you'd get from falling asleep in the sun. You look like you burn easily with that porcelain skin of yours."
Kurt blushed a little at what he decided to take as a compliment but kept his eyes closed, "Well we can't all be bronzed gods like you." He teased back. "Plus, I don't actually burn as much as everyone seems to think I do. I avoid the sun for other completely valid reasons." He said in a fake haughty voice.
"Oh?" Blaine asked, raising up on his elbows to look down at Kurt. "And what are those reasons?"
Kurt just groaned because fuck it, he wasn't moving now, the sun felt too good. "Oh you'll see soon enough."
Surprisingly, Blaine the eternal teaser, let it go and dropped back down onto his back. His eyes slipping closed, enjoying the rays.
They laid there for a long while, baking slowly and luxuriously. It felt downright decadent.
In a cautious voice, Blaine finally broke the silence. "You never did tell me why you ended up at the studio yesterday after...you know, after your appointment." Blaine didn't necessarily sound nervous to be broaching this topic, but perhaps concerned. Concerned he'd upset Kurt.
But an odd thing was happening here, and Kurt felt like maybe it should terrify him to some degree but it really didn't. Because for some reason, being around Blaine was incredibly easy. Probably easier than it had ever been with anyone before. And sure, Blaine was nice and funny and hell, Kurt could admit it, he was an adult, Blaine wasn't all that bad to look at either. But it went beyond that. Kurt felt like somehow, with very little words, Blaine had unravelled enough of Kurt to see straight down to the core of him. To see who he really was. Who he wanted to still be.
So Kurt just shrugged, as if Blaine had asked him his favorite color and said, "I wanted to be alone. And that's a little hard to achieve when you're living with your wonderful, beautiful, energetic, if not a little too involved aunt."
Blaine nodded, needing no further explanation. "Well, if you ever need to be alone again, let me know. I know somewhere you can go."
Offering Blaine that same courtesy, Kurt just nodded, asking no further questions. A small, comfortable silence hung between them as they both closed their eyes, feeling the sun on the other side.
"You know, it's funny." Kurt said with a laugh. A shallow sound that didn't reach very far down. "I spent practically all of my time alone when I was in New York and I hated it. Well," Kurt paused, mulling that word over, "maybe hate is a strong word. But I didn't like not having another option. And then I come here and I'm surrounded by people and sounds and life...and then the second I really need someone? I want to be alone."
"Weren't you surrounded by all of those things in New York?" Blaine asked. "I mean, it's New York City, it's teeming with life, right?"
"Sure, yeah, but it's...I don't know, it's different. There it's like everyone is looking through you. And here...here they're looking right at you."
"And the dance moms are liking what they see." Blaine joked.
Kurt chuckled at that and swatted his arm. "Oh hush, don't act like I haven't seen you trying to rush through the lobby to avoid the catcalls too."
"Well duh, one does not simply stroll through the lion's den." Blaine said.
A thought occurred to Kurt then that he just had to voice. "Isn't it weird that most of these women have known you since you were a kid? And now they're hitting on you?"
Blaine laughed, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Kurt. Both of them were mostly dry now, the sun making fast work of their soaked skin.
"I mean, yes? But some of those moms, like the ones in the mornings with the really little kids? I went to highschool with a few of them so I mean, they've been flirting with me since we were teenagers." He said it in a way that didn't sound conceited in the slightest, just a fact. Kurt thought he might even see a little blush spreading over his cheeks, but that could easily be a gentle sunburn for all he knew.
"Still awkward," Kurt said, propping himself up to match Blaine. "Did you ever date any of them?" Kurt added, not really sure why he cared.
Blaine laughed a real, full laugh. "No Hummel, no, I did not date any of them." An evil little smirk developed on his lips, "Why do you ask, Hummel? Jealous?"
Kurt just leveled him a stare with lidded eyes, looking bored. "Oh please," He said in his best I couldn't care less tone. "It just probably makes it hard, I'd imagine. You know, to find someone when you've been picking from the same pool since elementary school."
Blaine's little smirk disappeared and his face became thoughtful. Something about the expression made Kurt suspect that this was something he'd considered before. Kurt saw no pain nor malice but perhaps a little bit of wistfulness? Something inside Blaine that was reaching, stretching for...something.
"Yeah, that's a little rough I suppose." Blaine said, voice sounding tired, like the day of swimming had finally caught up with him and Kurt wanted nothing more than to wake him up, make him the lively carefree Blaine that he knew.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm here now," He stuck his nose in the air, pretending to look down at Blaine graciously.
That soft, easy smile Kurt adored spread easily back onto Blaine's face. "Ah yes, lucky me." Blaine stood then and started to gather his towel. Wordlessly, Kurt stood to do the same. "And lucky for you," Blaine said, seemingly deciding to continue his earlier thought, "you don't have to be alone anymore." That smile. That smile that Kurt felt he had known his whole life was so soft, so private, that Kurt felt himself melt in a way that the sun couldn't make him do.
"I suppose you're right." He admitted.
Blaine's truck rumbled back to town, windows down allowing the lazy hot breeze to drag its fingers through their hair, tugging at the knots left from swimming. They talked the whole way back. They talked about highschool, about Blaine being in choir and Kurt being in show choir. They talked about past summers from their childhood spent fishing and mowing lawns to earn enough money to feed his comic book addiction (Blaine) and having tea parties with his dad or working in his dad's garage to earn enough money to feed his clothing addiction (Kurt).
"But it's too damn hot down here to wear any of my designer clothes without fear of irrevocable damage!" Kurt wailed passionately.
"I'm pretty sure Alexander McQueen makes warm weather clothing as well, Hummel." Blaine chided, lips quirked to the side but his eyes still on the road ahead.
Kurt just scoffed, "Don't try to distract me with the fact that you know the name of a designer, Anderson, and also? Not the point! I like layering. It's how you build interest and dimension in an outfit."
"I think your body offers plenty of interest and dimension. You don't need layers to do that." Blaine said, shooting Kurt a playful glance.
Kurt felt his pale skin heating up at this but ignored it in favor of punching Blaine in the arm. "Flattery will get you nowhere and once again, not. The. Point."
They talked about their favorite books and movies and TV shows, even finding some overlapping to their lists. They talked about music and Blaine mentioned he was surprised to hear Kurt dancing to Aquilo the day before.
"At risk of sounding like a total hipster, they aren't very mainstream. I was surprised." Blaine said honestly.
Kurt nodded in understanding because, well? Blaine wasn't really wrong. And he told him as much. "I love classical music, since that's what like, 90% of ballets are set to. And I love musicals because, as previously mentioned, showchoir. But a few years ago I really just felt the need to expand my horizons. I don't know, it might sound pretentious or like a temperamental artist thing to say but I felt like creatively I was really putting myself in a box."
"You don't strike me as someone who likes being put in a box," Blaine said.
Kurt scoffed, "That's a bit of an understatement." He felt his insides warm, totally separate from the heat permeating the truck from the outside world. It forced his next words to tumble out with the belief that Blaine would catch them and understand them. "I just...I wanted to feel alive again. I always thought that New York would makes me feel that way always but...I don't know, I just needed something to dance to. Like really really dance to. Something I could just pour myself into when no one was looking. Like therapy or something. I needed to feel connected again. D-does...does that make sense?" He turned big, open eyes toward Blaine.
Blaine's brow was scrunched in concentration as if really trying to dissect Kurt's words, making sure he had a firm grasp on them before responding. He finally nodded after a few heavy seconds. "Yeah, I think it does. Like...like you wanted to feel seen. By the music, by your dancing...by yourself."
It's not how Kurt would have put it but it was correct. It was 100% correct. "Exactly." He said, smiling warmly at Blaine. The other man took his eyes off the road just long enough to return the gesture.
Blaine shared silly work stories and one truly terrifying one of stapling his thumb with a staple gun a few years ago. Kurt walked Blaine through a day in the life of a professional dancer.
It shocked Kurt when they pulled up to a beautiful, understated yet still stately white colonial style house. It had the pillars that signified dignity and wealth. The house sported black shutters and a black front door that shone in strict juxtaposition to the stark white of the house. It had a small yet formal fountain standing proudly out front. Much like the other houses in town, it held a sort of humble classiness, nestled into a large green lawn with plenty of mature trees.
As they got out of the truck, still laughing lightly over Kurt's story of his botched audition for the New York Ballet Company ("It's only funny because it all worked out in the end!"), Kurt finally saw a gorgeous older woman, standing up from her rocking chair on the front porch. She had a knowing smile on her face as she rose to greet them.
"Grandma!" Blaine called happily, as he reached behind him and grabbed Kurt's wrist, pulling him forward. "This is Darla's nephew, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt stuck out his hand, smiling gently at her. "Pleased to meet you ma'am."
"Hummel, this is my grandma, Blanche Anderson." Blaine finished as the two shook hands. Her
grip was soft yet authoritative.
"Ahh, the famous 'city kid' I presume?" She asked, a wicked smile blooming on her lips. Oh, Kurt thought, so that's where Blaine learned that smile.
"I see my reputation precedes me," Kurt deadpanned, swinging his gaze to land heavily on Blaine
who at least had the decency to blush.
Blanche laughed, an easy laugh that also made her seem more like Blaine's mother than a grandmother. She looked fantastic for her age, the only thing betraying her age was curly hair that had faded completely to white. But the lines on her face were still minimal and her skin was the same golden hue that Blaine had. The family resemblance was strong.
"Blaine was always a bit of a gossip," Blanche fake whispered to Kurt, giggling when Blaine shouted out "Grandma!" in the background. "Unlucky for him, so am I. Would you like to hear some embarrassing stories from his youth?"
Kurt's eyes lit up, evil and teasing as he looked straight at Blaine, "Oh, I would love to!"
"Okay, alright, obviously you two meeting was a mistake. We're just gonna go to the garage,
okay grandma?"
"Oh but Blaine, I wouldn't want to be rude to our lovely hostess," Kurt said, eyes wide and innocent and reeking of bullshit.
"She'll live," Blaine grumbled, literally pushing Kurt toward the far side of the house where the
driveway continued back past the house.
Blanche laughed merrily and waved at Kurt's forcibly retreating form. "Nice to meet you Kurt!"
"Likewise!" Kurt called back through a giggle.
The rounded around the front of the house to the side, following the driveway to the back
corner, where a large 3 bay garage stood connected to the main house by a breezeway. The garage door was huge and spanned the entire length of all the bays and was currently open. Kurt could only imagine it was to keep it cool in this unbearable heat.
The lower level was as you'd expect a garage: concrete floors with a drain in every bay, where it should have sat under cars. But no cars were present, only tools. So many tools. Hand tools stacked neatly in toolboxes, power tools looking organized but in a way that made sense probably only to Blaine. A large work bench sat back in the far right corner, taking up most of the back wall and then bending to take up most of the right wall as well. It seemed like Blaine had created quite the workshop to support his job as the town's handyman. It was spacious and well loved but seemed inordinately clean for a garage.
If Kurt had been wondering just why Blaine was dragging him into a sweaty garage after a long day of cooking in the sun, his wonder ceased somewhat rapidly once Blaine directed them to a little staircase, so steep it should maybe be called a ladder, tucked into the extreme left of the garage.
And then Kurt felt it: cool air that became more and more concentrated the higher they ascended. Which made no sense because heat rises, right? But that meant that this loft was...air conditioned?
They emerged at the top and Kurt was astonished to find a beautifully rustic, mismatched studio apartment. On the left of the space was a gorgeous, if not small kitchen. The lower cabinets ran along the left wall, only interrupted by a gleaming stainless steel gas stove and hood. Then the cabinets turned to follow along the back wall before ending in some relatively huge doors that Kurt could only presume were a pantry. The kitchen also boasted a modest but beautiful butcher block counter topped island. The side facing into the kitchen had three barstools only a little cramped next to each other that served as the only place to eat.
Kurt's eyes continued to sweep the space. The edge of the loft was adorned with a beautiful railing that Kurt would bet was handmade. A small entertainment console was backed up to it and where the TV sat, facing a beat up couch that looked so comfy that Kurt didn't even care that it's dusty navy blue fabric was a bit of an eyesore. Behind the couch, was a large bed; a king or queen probably, dressed nicely in summer quilts that, like everything else looked worn but loved and clean. The back wall behind the bed had some folding accordion doors with louvers in them, that Kurt assumed was the closet. In between the kitchen half and the living room/bedroom half, a teeny tiny hallway presumably took you to the bathroom.
"You...you live in a lofted garage?" Kurt said, hoping his voice didn't sound incredulous in a bad way, because that's certainly not how he felt.
"Um...yeah?" Blaine said, sounding nervous and rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Nervousness sounded so strange in his voice. Like it was something he should never feel.
"I love it," Kurt said, trying to strike that right balance between reverence and simple kindness. "It's very 'on brand' for you." He joked.
At that, Blaine's hand dropped off of his neck and he smiled, like he'd passed a test that no one had seen but him. "Well, it's really handy when I can just wake up and walk downstairs to my shop."
Kurt nodded, surveying the furniture again. "Did you make any of this? Like, do you do woodworking too?"
That fucking little troll smile came back to Blaine's face. "Oh, I've been known to work some wood, yeah, you could say that."
"Oh my God, Blaine, focus, you perv!" Kurt said, running his fingers through his messy hair because honestly, it was fucked anyway and there was no way to hide it. Might as well embrace whatever version of himself that he was unearthing this summer. It startled Kurt mildly to notice that he liked it; this version of himself. He felt free, soft...open. He felt like a kid again. Like himself.
Kurt was brought back into the moment by Blaine, still chuckling saying, "Um yeah, I made the coffee table and the bedside tables. I mean, I also built that entire kitchen and the bathroom back there," He pointed down the little hallway, confirming Kurt's earlier assumption.
"Which, speaking of, did you want to take a shower? I can go whip us up some sandwiches or something while you do?" Blaine asked, already rummaging around his closet and pulling out a clean white t-shirt and some short athletic shorts. "These should fit you if you want to wear these." He offered them up to Kurt.
Normally, Kurt would have been utterly gobsmacked that a friend of not even a week was offering him a shower and to wear his clothes. His very attractive, pretty safely assumed gay friend. But, with everything with Blaine, it felt natural. It felt easy. So he just accepted the clothes with a smile and departed to the small but tasteful bathroom.
True to his word, when Kurt emerged from the shower 10 minutes later, the sun and river washed from his skin. Blaine had a plate stacked high with cold turkey sandwiches.
So they sat on the couch, flipping through the channels, eating sandwich after sandwich, not realizing how tired they were after a day of swimming. As Kurt unabashedly reached for his third sandwich (what? Blaine had made like 10 of these fuckers and he was hungry), he heard a small gasp emit from Blaine.
Kurt turned to him with a raised brow, daring him to shame him for how much food he was
eating, but that apparently wasn't the cause of his gasp at all. His eyes were glued to Kurt's arm. Where the sun had finally faded and revealed a constellation of freckles.
Kurt groaned, leaning back into the absurdly comfy couch and letting his head fall back too. Eyes closed he said, "And that, my friend. Is why I don't go into the sun."
"Freckles?" Blaine said, voice housing way too much glee to not be at least slightly patronizing.
"Mhm," Kurt hummed. "It's not very high fashion, now is it?"
Blaine scoffed, a sound that said So? Who gives a shit? But instead said, in a gentle voice, "No, but it's fucking adorable is what it is."
Kurt rolled his head to the side, giving Blaine a judgemental look, trying to see if he meant it. Blaine's smile only grew as he saw the freckles starting to darken across Kurt's nose. He reached out to gently run a finger across them. Across one cheek bone, over the bridge of the nose, and across the other cheek bone. Kurt sat very very still, not daring to move. His heart had picked up speed. He felt like if his body hadn't sweat more this past 3 weeks than he had his entire life, he definitely would have broken out in one now.
They held eye contact, even as Blaine's hand dropped back into his own lap. Kurt sort of wished he'd dropped it in his lap instead, but brushed that useless thought away pronto. "Fucking adorable," Blaine said again, voice low and wrapped around one of his gorgeous full smiles.
Kurt had been called beautiful a lot in his life. With his pale, flawless skin, long lean body and manicured hair, it seemed the most appropriate adjective when it came to flattery for him. But he could probably count on his fingers how many times someone had called him adorable and they were probably all before the age of 9. It was weird, but something about it set a warm fire off in his belly. Beautiful, while lovely in it's own way, could feel cold and aloof. More like an objective fact than a personal opinion. But adorable? It felt like humid air and fresh cut grass and sticky lemonade hands and the touch of the fingertips. It felt innocent and clean and so full of affection. Warm and personal.
And then Blaine turned back to the T.V. where a formulaic crime show played and they settled into a silence that was incredibly comfortable considering Blaine's admission.
An admission between friends that meant nothing and yet, so much.
A/N: I think it's safe to say the this friendship is officially a-go! So what did you think? Leave a review and, as always, make sure you follow and/or favorite so you don't miss the next chapter. See ya'll on Saturday and enjoy the rest of your week!