A/N: Hello and happy Saturday! I am really excited to share this chapter. It was so much fun to write and I really like how it turned out. The song in this chapter is Swoon by Beach Weather. Once again, I recommend putting the song on when it comes up in the chapter; I think it really adds something to the reading experience, but that's just me. And other cool people but like whatever, not judging. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
Chapter 7
After that day spent swimming and sweating and laughing. After meeting Blaine's grandma and eating cold turkey sandwiches and watching T.V. and laughing some more and finally, ending when Kurt was practically falling asleep on Blaine's couch. After Blaine drove him home with a smile and a promise to see him tomorrow. Every day after that, followed in a similar way. Not that they went swimming every day, no, not that. But every day, they were together. Be it at the school, where Kurt taught and Blaine worked on the bathroom and they shared lunch before Kurt went home to shower or to physical therapy. But he'd always, inevitably end up at Blaine's later that night, usually after an early dinner with Darla. And they'd do...well honestly, a whole lot of nothing. And it was glorious.
Never, in Kurt's life, had he been comfortable sitting still. He'd always been very go, go, go. He'd had to, to be the best, to make it to New York, to make it out of Ohio. But now? Now he had days where his body absolutely refused to take him any faster than a crawl. Now he had days where climbing those stairs to Blaine's loft felt impossible and Blaine would make up some excuse for them to stay in the lower level so he could work. And Kurt was always so grateful for his ability to read him so well, without any words needed.
It was odd: this vulnerability. Stranger still was how much Kurt craved it. How much he valued it. And Blaine. The way he'd train his bright hazel eyes on Kurt and know, just know, what to say or when to say nothing at all. When to push him and when to pull back. And if Kurt wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have the same ability with Blaine. He could sense the subtle shift in the air when Blaine was uncomfortable, not that that happened often. Only when he'd stepped close, very close to move some hair out of Kurt's eyes after a gross sticky wind had blown it all haphazardly in his face. Only when Blaine had turned beet red when Kurt wore his favorite knee length denim shorts, that he knew did wonderful things to his ass. Just like he knew there was no way Blaine was looking at it.
There wasn't much question about if Blaine was straight or gay or inbetween. Kurt was pretty certain he felt some attraction for men but it didn't matter. Because Blaine was his best friend. In the span of a few weeks, this impossible man had become his best friend and if that didn't mean enough to Kurt to not fuck things up between them with an unrequited lust, then the distraction of his lingering pain certainly kept him in his lane.
He had attended a few more physical therapy sessions and he'd only had maybe one or two times where he had really felt like he was making progress and about a million times where the subsequent pain had overshadowed all of those hopeful feelings.
But at the end of everyday, he'd find himself at Blaine's in the warm glow of that lofted garage (a fucking garage...Kurt Hummel in a garage that wasn't his dad's business...fuckin' A) basking in Blaine's smiles and stories and gentle looks and pointed teasing and he felt warm. Not the gross, disgusting humid warm he'd been absolutely drowning in since arriving in Cassville, but warm on the inside. This ice queen's heart having thawed some.
Blaine had told him all about the jobs he'd done around town and Kurt was surprised to find that he was actually working other jobs simultaneously to the bathroom remodel that was quickly wrapping up. He wasn't sure where he found the time but Blaine was a little fuzzy on some of the details. Although he did mention that he was in talks with the retro diner Kurt had seen on his first night in town. They wanted to update the counter and possibly add some open shelving behind it for added storage.
"Wait, you've been in town for what, 2...3 weeks? And you haven't been to the diner yet?" Blaine sounded aghast at this. Perhaps even offended at the idea.
"No? Darla and I always cook dinner together, you know that." Kurt said, puzzled as to why this was such breaking news.
"Hummel!" Blaine cried, throwing his hands up the air and setting down his level. They were in the lower level of the garage so Blaine could work on some small floating shelves. "They have the best burger you've ever eaten, I swear."
"Well you also swore that you'd find a bagel that could match the ones in New York and that's been a fruitless endeavor so far." Kurt countered.
"Okay, okay, so New York can have bagels-"
"And pizza and cheesecake-"
"And pizza and cheesecake," Blaine amended, rolling his eyes, "But this burger? Cassville gets the burger, okay?"
Kurt chewed the inside of his cheek, as if mulling over a life altering decision. Finally, a slow smile spread over his face, a greedy look in his eyes, "I can't tell you the last time I had a good burger. Or well….a burger at all to be honest."
Blaine's thick eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and he eyed Kurt like he'd grown a second head.
Kurt shrugged, "I've been professionally dancing for almost 7 years now. It's not that I don't burn enough calories to earn a burger every now and again but, ya know, your body just performs better on a cleaner, healthier diet."
Blaine's face was frozen in that same look of disbelief before, "Who hurt you?" And Kurt laughed, picking up a rag on the table he was leaning on and throwing it at Blaine with a laugh.
"Shut up. Eating healthy is not something I'll apologize for. Plus I like it, I really do. I've definitely been more lax since moving here though."
"Oh, so you're eating your carrot sticks with ranch now?" Blaine gasped, placing his hand over his heart. "Hummel, you're just a rebel without a cause, aren't you?"
Kurt just rolled his eyes and for some reason, the next words out of his mouth were, "Well, for a while eating "perfectly" was necessary to keep my dad eating healthy. He had a heart attack when I was in high school so…" he trailed off and winced a little bit at how jarring that heavy topic fell.
But after a moment of silence, he heard Blaine say, "I'm really sorry, I didn't know."
Kurt hurriedly waved his hands, as if he could scrub the air between them free of any tension. "No, no, it's not like that I just...I don't know. I guess that's how the eating healthy thing really started and I just...ugh, I'm sorry. I really know how to keep things light, don't I?" He chuckled with dark humor and looked down at his shoes on the floor. He peaked up through his lashes as Blaine volleyed a chuckle back.
Kurt continued, "I uh…" he took a deep breath. Since we're apparently being honest, "I just...I guess I don't feel like telling you half truths or like...half the story. I just…" Kurt trailed off again, at a total loss for how to finish his sentence, doubting he even knew what he wanted to really say.
"It feels like we've known each other for more than 2 weeks." Blaine said with certainty and yes. It was exactly that. Like Blaine always did, he filled in the words Kurt didn't have. He completed him.
Kurt nodded, turning his head up to look back at Blaine fully. Eyes open and honest, they just looked at each other with soft smiles, the tension simmering down and then dying out completely until it was silence and darkness and the warm glow of Blaine's work lamp.
A clap of thunder broke their silent conversation and a flash of lighting lit up the entire space in a white light. As if on cue, the clouds opened up and in the span of about 20 seconds it went from the first few tentative drops to a steady shower to a curtain of water falling from the heavens.
Blaine's smile shifted from soft to that wicked grin Kurt had become so accustomed to. He held out a hand, "Come on Hummel, why don't you teach me some moves?"
Kurt blinked at the offered hand a few times, looking between it and it's owner.
"What?" Blaine said, finally just taking the few steps necessary to grab Kurt's hand and guide him towards the always wide open garage doors. "It's not like I ever get much work done when you're here anyways."
Kurt of a few weeks ago would have struggled for his life, like he was being led to his death by an insane ax murderer. He would have screamed to the high heavens that "This shirt is McQueen!" or "My hair will never recover from this!" or "I'm not 9, what are you doing you insane jack ass?!", but Kurt of right now? Kurt of this summer thought that maybe the rain here would finally, finally cool things down and man, wouldn't that just be lovely?
So, in a full attempt to embrace this moment, he kicked his shoes off (they were just canvas sneakers' he couldn't really rock his Docs without a proper outfit and he'd condemned all his designer clothes to the closet for the rest of the unbearable summer). He wanted to feel the puddles on the concrete, he wanted to remember that in this moment, he was just being. He wasn't planning. He was taking his best friend's hand and walking out into a storm and he was so glad that he was here right now.
They were drenched in seconds, from head to toe, soaked all the way down to the bone. The rain was warm, like bathwater, but it felt clean and the steady thumps pelting Kurt's body almost felt like a whole body massage.
He smiled wide, throwing his head back and laughed. It was then that he realized that Blaine still held his hand and had actually gathered his other hand as well as he felt them being pulled from side to side in a silly, uncoordinated dance. Still laughing, he found Blaine's eyes through the sheet of rain and found a matching smile boring back at him. They swayed in an exaggerated, schmaltzy way and then Blaine let go to do a little version of the twist that had Kurt nearly doubled over in laughter. It made him wonder when the last time had been that he'd laughed that hard.
He let his body move of its own volition, like he had back in the empty school after his first doctor appointment. Except this time, his movements were full of glee and lightness, not despair and longing.
He lept, a small tiny little glissade. A barely jump and it felt so good. It felt so good to feel the wet concrete beneath his feet. It felt real and solid. So he flowed right into a small chaine, knowing that the callouses on his feet were thick and saving him from any damage a driveway could do and he leapt again, something a little bigger. Not a real ballet jump with a name, just a jump that felt good. That made him smile.
"Hummel," He heard Blaine say, an odd quality to his voice and it was then that Kurt realized his eyes had closed. He opened them to find Blaine looking at him with an edge of concern in his eyes.
"What?" Kurt questioned, still swaying and smiling and dancing a little ballet like dance that existed nowhere but somewhere deep in his mind.
"Be careful," Blaine said, the worry rising in his voice a bit as Kurt executed another small leap.
"Blaine, I'm fine," he chided, feeling light and happy and feeling nothing but true adoration for this man who wanted him to be safe.
"Hummel," Blaine warned again, looking unsatisfied with his answer. His voice was low and part command. It was...well, it was kind of hot.
Kurt's grin turned up to a thousand watts and he went bigger, into a large saut de chat and if he felt a little twinge of pain in his back when he landed gracefully, he ignored it. But Blaine didn't.
"Alright stop it," Blaine said, shaking his head like he'd told a kid to stop trying to feed his broccoli to the dog one too many times. "Come'ere," she said hurriedly, and took a few strides to reach Kurt's swaying, smiling form.
He grabbed his hand in one of his own and put the other one securely on his waist. Kurt's other arm naturally rose to place his hand on Blaine's shoulder. It was a little backwards, seeing as how Kurt was taller, but it was nice, all the same.
"Why don't you teach me some moves?" Blaine offered, clearly not mad anymore. Not now that Kurt was safe which…well that was something Kurt could unpack later.
So Kurt nodded, and switched their grip, placing his hand on Blaine's solid side and guiding Blaine's rugged, worn hand to rest on his soaked shoulder. The rain was still coming down at a good clip but it wasn't beating its drops into their skin anymore.
Wordlessly, Kurt began to lead Blaine around in a very simple waltz. Something easy that he remembered from a class he'd taken long ago out of curiosity. If ballet hadn't been so demanding, Kurt had liked to think he would have learned other styles as well. Some ballroom, maybe some swing? Some partner work. Something that wasn't so lonely perhaps. Also something Kurt could unpack later.
They danced until it finally occurred to Kurt that this is probably how you catch a cold, right? I mean, it's still in the upper 80s even after the sun had gone down and the rain felt more like lukewarm bath water but still? Could you still get a cold from this? So he gracefully danced them right back into the garage where Blaine promptly shook out his curls like a dog.
Laughing Kurt said, "You should really take those moves out on the town; show them off!"
"Oh?" Blaine said, leading the way up the stairs to the loft. He grabbed a towel out of the closet and tossed a second one to Kurt. "How about Scandals?"
"Scandals?" Kurt said with a frown.
"Yeah, the local gay bar." Blaine said and Kurt thinks well, that confirms that. "Well, not really local, it's 30 minutes away like everything else, but yeah."
Kurt laughed, "I don't know if a gay bar is really the type of place to bust out a waltz." Not in his experience at least.
"Hey, you don't know. What if Scandals is a classy establishment?" Blaine fake pouted.
Kurt just rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Please, with a name like Scandals? And I'm hard pressed to believe that any place within a 50 mile radius of here doesn't have a line dance night."
"Well, duh, but that's only Tuesdays through Thursday nights. The weekends are much more secular."
"Secular?" Kurt challenged with a brow that was trying to reach the heavens.
"Okay, maybe secular isn't the right word but...less...rural?" Blaine said, the question heavy on his tone and the smile brimming on his lips.
Kurt shook his head fondly. Everything he did with Blaine seemed to always have an edge of fondness to it. Rolling his eyes fondly, scoffing fondly, shaking his head in disbelief fondly. Add it to the list of things to unpack later. I'm going to need to order some pizzas and invite friends over to unpack all of this, Kurt thought. But then again, his only friend was Blaine so...maybe that wasn't such a good idea either.
"So what do you say?" Blaine says, collecting Kurt's towel to throw in the hamper. Seeing how much dirty laundry he has, he pulled it over to the washer to start a load.
"You really want to go?" Kurt asks, feeling a little surprised but not in a bad way.
"Sure, why not?" Blaine says, shrugging and starting to shove all of his laundry into the machine, handfuls at a time. "It's been a while since I've gone and I mean, I wouldn't want you to miss out on the full Cassville experience."
"Okay yeah, yeah, sure whatever, I'll go with you but only if you let me show you how to do a proper load of laundry!" Kurt hurriedly says, unable to hold it in anymore. Blaine hadn't even been separating lights and darks! What's next? Wearing straight cut jeans with a black braided belt and brown shoes? Kurt shuddered and walked over to the laundry to save Blaine from himself.
When Kurt had agreed to go to the gay bar, he hadn't really been thinking about what to expect. I mean, line dancing, sure, that had been established. But the fact of the matter was, Kurt hadn't started going to clubs or gay bars until he'd arrived in New York, and that had been a pretty short phase for him. Partying and staying out until 3 A.M. just didn't appeal to him like it did most of his peers. Not when you have to wake up with the sun and then go be physically active for 8 straight hours. You do that while hungover and tell me how fun it is, and then we'll talk.
So when Blaine's truck parked in the back of a gravel lot that was twice the size of what he'd expected, he was a little apprehensive to say the least.
"So...what is it exactly that I'm about to walk into?" Kurt asked, a nervous edge seeping into his voice.
"A gay bar." Blaine explained in a slow voice, like he was speaking to a child.
Kurt rolled his eyes, "Okay, I know that, but like...what is it like in there?" Kurt watched as two men walked up to the doors and disappeared inside, wearing plaid shirts and loose jeans. They were dressed unsettlingly like his dad and it made Kurt glance down at his outfit. He figured it might be the only time he has an opportunity to wear some of his finer threads this summer, so throwing caution to the humid wind, he'd donned a pair of black skinny jeans and a short sleeved button up that really showed off his arms. It wasn't that he was looking to impress anyone tonight, it was more that he just wanted to look nice. Now he was realizing that his version of 'nice' probably stuck out like a sore thumb.
Pulling him out of his spiral, Blaine said, "I mean it's like any other bar down here. There's a dance floor and cheesy drink specials, but there's just a lot more gay men and no peanut shells on the floor."
"Peanut shells? On the floor?" Kurt said, aghast at such an unsanity thing.
Blaine just laughed and patted Kurt on the shoulder before opening his door. "Calm down Hummel, everything will be okay."
Kurt followed him out of the truck and they began walking toward the door. Halfway there Kurt was beginning to hear some thumping music bleeding out of the bar. It wasn't country but it wasn't electronic club kid music either and that gave Kurt some peace of mind.
Blaine suddenly stopped, hands deep in his dark jeans pockets and when Kurt looked back with a questioning eyebrow, Blaine was looking at him with a scrutinizing look like he was trying to make a decision.
Just as Kurt was about to ask if there was something on his face, Blaine spoke. "One thing though," he took a step closer to Kurt, still looking at him with purpose and a heavy, level gaze. "I'm going to need you to stay close in there, okay?"
"Oh? Kurt questioned and he only noticed he'd shifted closer to Blaine after he'd done it.
Eyes still locked Blaine shifted closer still, until there were only a few inches between their bodies. "Yeah."
"Why's that?" Kurt asks, his voice dropping lower, like it's a secret.
Blaine let his eyes quickly glance down Kurt's body and back up to his eyes. Subtle but not necessarily hidden. "Because they'll eat you alive in there." He looked up and down again. "Lookin' like that."
And all of Kurt's fears of standing out in a bad way dissolve and drift away in the lazy summer breeze. And Blaine smiled and Kurt smiled and they made their way into the bar.
For a second, Kurt wondered if they should talk about that exchange because it was...well it was definitely more than a friend thing, right? It had felt like more than a friend thing at least. And Kurt hadn't really minded it but he wasn't sure what to do with it. So, in the absence of a bottle of wine and a truly introspective phone call home to Carol, he decided to shelf it and just do what Blaine had said: stay close.
The inside of the bar was fairly unassuming, a long wooden bar taking up the entirety of the left side of the place, small round wooden tables dividing that side from the dancefloor that was bathed in cheesy color lights and made everything look surreal. They had a pretty good turn out and Kurt was surprised to hear them playing Young the Giant over the sound system. Not too shabby, Kurt thought, counting his lucky stars that he wasn't going to be plugging his ears against some guy crooning over how his truck broke down and his girlfriend left him.
Blaine led them straight to the bar and sat down on a stool, patting the one beside him for Kurt. Blaine ordered a beer and Kurt ordered a whisky sour. They twirled around on their stools, drinks in hand to watch the other patrons dancing, just silently people watching for a moment.
Kurt cocked his head, identifying the new song taking over. "Is this...is this Prince? Are they playing Prince right now?"
Blaine nodded, "Yup." He popped the p and leaned his elbow back on the bar, angling his body towards Kurt.
"They were just playing Young the Giant when we walked in and now Prince? What's next? Thrice or Simon and Garfunkel?"
Kurt's comment caught Blaine off guard and he very nearly shot his swig of beer out of his nose. Recovering from his coughing fit, he roughly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at Kurt, eyes shining. "Hummel…" He said, fondness covering Kurt's name like a blanket. Seemingly coming to his senses he shook his head minutely and answered, "Yeah, it's a bit of a gamble here. They figured out a couple years ago that they'd actually get the younger patrons if they played music that wasn't on oldies radio stations."
"But Prince? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining but-"
"Old habits die hard, I guess?" Blaine offered, it came out as a question as he shrugged and downed the rest of his drink.
Kurt offered his own shrug and downed the rest of his drink. As Blaine turned around to order them a second round, Kurt felt a presence appear on his other side.
He looked over to find a handsome man, probably a few years older but not in a bad way. He had blonde hair that was cut stylishly if not generic. His eyes were a striking green and they appeared kind as he smiled at Kurt.
"Can I get you a new drink?" He asked, motioning with a jerk of his head towards Kurt's empty drink.
Blaine stopped trying to flag down the bartender and eyed the scene curiously, trying to stay out of the way but his shoulders hunched a bit, his spine stiffening. Kurt saw this in the brief glance he shot over to Blaine but his eyes were swung over to his other side once again when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"Sorry, I probably should have introduced myself first," Blonde, tall and handsome said with enough wherewithal to look a little sheepish. "I'm Brandon." He smiled, holding a hand out which Kurt took, "Kurt," he replied.
Kurt glanced back over at Blaine and saw the little smile that Blaine shot back at him. He saw the way it looked slightly pained, maybe like it was a little white lie but he also saw how the blue lights from the bar were making Blaine's curls look like dark chocolate. His eyes, always so bright were still shining in the surreal landscape but they were shadowed in darkness. They looked deep. They looked warm, sizzling, captivating. Kurt saw a friend trying to be a good friend and he knew that as much as he appreciated it, he didn't need it.
Kurt turned back to Brandon, a small, genuine smile on his lips. "Thank you for the offer, but my…" What? Friend? I mean yes, he's definitely not more but it just didn't even seem to accurately capture their easy relationship. Soulmate? Like...platonic soulmate. Was that a thing? Ugh. "-Blaine was about to buy me another so I think I'm good." He gestured toward the man on his other side that was now wearing an expression with a look of pride and surprise and softness.
Brandon nodded and smiled, bowing out gracefully. And it was over. But something else entirely was now started.
Kurt turned towards Blaine, not sure what he was supposed to say to follow that up but Blaine's
eyes met him and that wicked little grin bloomed on his face. "Told you you'd be eaten alive here." He laughed a little.
Kurt rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated way he could possibly muster. "Oh, please!
That was the tamest "pick up" I've ever experienced. I don't think eaten alive is the right phrase for Brandon, who looks like he probably teaches middle school science class and calls his mother every weekend."
"Hey, everyone has a type."
"Yeah, well he's not mine," Kurt said, not sure if that was actually true.
"And what is your type, Hummel?" Blaine challenged, leaning in close, and maybe it was
a trick of the light but Kurt could have sworn that his tongue poked out to lick his lips.
Kurt took a suddenly shaky breath and pushed back because fuck, why not? This was fun,
Blaine was fun. He wouldn't break if he pushed a little. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He countered, leaning in as well.
Blaine's grin widened and those damn lights made it look like he'd leaned in further but
that was impossible, right? But then his smile changed, a different intention took over and he looked up, like he was confirming something. "I love this song." Blaine said, eyes sliding back down to capture Kurt's. "Dance with me." it wasn't a question as he had already grabbed Kurt's hand and was leading the tall brunette to the full dancefloor.
Feeling like he was catching on a little late, Kurt tuned into the song. Swoon by Beach
Weather...nice, Kurt thought.
Blaine, still holding Kurt's hand tugged him into the crowd of bodies, moving, swaying,
the heat enveloping them as the first verse ended. Kurt was smiling that broad smile that felt wider than the state of Texas and had become a damn near permanent feature this summer. He swayed to the beat, no training necessary. His body, for once on his side, just moved and grooved like it had never been introduced with a spinal injury. Blaine moved with him, holding both hands now, a matching grin across his face.
And when I think I'm out of the dark, Blaine playfully lip synced to Kurt, and Kurt grabbed the next line, You're pulling me away from the light, he pulled an invisible tie around Blaine's neck, pulling him closer. It was goofy, it was silly and they both laughed through the next line: Take me where you want me tonight.
And let me swoon over you, the beat pulsed through the bar, bodies all bouncing to the beat, lost in a sea of people, Kurt and Blaine danced with them. They acted out the cheesiness of swooning, laying the back of their hands across their foreheads and dissolving into giggles. It was part dance, part pantomime. If the other patrons thought it odd, no one said anything. It was late enough that possibly everyone was a little too drunk to notice two boys teasing each other in the middle of the dance floor.
Let me swoon over you, And there's nothing I can do, So let me swoon over you, Blaine sang, and...was he actually singing a little? It was too loud to hear it over the music but Kurt swore he could see Blaine's vocal chords working. Blaine stepped closer, a wild excitement in his voice as they both knew the little breakdown coming. A pause. A tiny pause and then-
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker?
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker?
Someone bumped Kurt from behind and he found himself closer to Blaine, still holding hands. He noticed something shift in Blaine's eyes, something small but important. Huge in its implications. Blaine moved closer, a small but sure step. His eyes seemed darker.
Just another, just another heartbreaker.
There it was, that little pink tongue darting out to wet his lips again. Kurt felt his own eyes slip down to watch Blaine's lips and a heat greater than the grinding bodies surrounding them flushed his skin. He felt warm but goosebumps sprung up all over his skin. He looked back to Blaine's eyes just in time to see those hazel eyes pulling their gaze away from Kurt's lips. Oh. Oh.
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker.
Something about the lyrics seemed to be hitting Blaine right in the solar plexus, as Kurt swore he saw the shorter man shudder. Out of fear or pleasure or both, he couldn't be sure. Blaine took another step closer until their bodies were only a hair's width from full contact. From knee to shoulder. The energy crackled between them. Blaine slowly raised their hands, fingers still linked until they were standing, palm to palm, eyes molten. They were only swaying now, being tossed and rocked by the crowd but too absorbed in each other to really register it.
A heartbreaker, a heartbreaker.
The second verse took over, the bouncy beat returning to something more brooding and steady. Still thumping but not something you jump to. The ocean of bodies matched that and calmed down, still swaying, half drunk.
But Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine's, hardly listening to the words over Blaine's ragged breathing. They were so close, he could almost feel that breath on his own lips, maybe only 6 inches away.
This sensational high, this sensational low
I can't control
For reasons I don't know
Who you are
And it's a possibility
A psychedelic symphony
You are
You are, to me.
The lines they had hammed up to each other just a minute earlier played again but they let it slip through their fingers like sand in an hourglass. Blaine dropped one of Kurt's hands and as Kurt was about to protest, he felt that arm twist lightly around Kurt's waist, pulling him ever so gently against Blaine's body.
They were touching.
Sure, they had hugged before, Blaine always offered a shoulder to lean on when Kurt's legs weren't playing fair and Kurt routinely felt the need to swat at Blaine's arm when he said something unbelievable or admonishable, but this was different. This wasn't two friends. This was...something he'd never felt before.
The chorus started up again:
And let me swoon over you
Let me swoon over you
Blaine was being brave so okay, so could Kurt. Right?
And there's nothing I can do
So let me swoon over you
Kurt raised his now free hand to wrap gently around the back of Blaine's neck. He brought his forehead down to rest against Blaine's, finally sharing the same breath as the bouncing rhythm picked back up again, the crowd jumping,
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker?
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker?
Just another, just another heartbreaker.
Don't you know you're just another heartbreaker?
A heartbreaker, a heartbreaker.
They hardly moved at this point, so wrapped up, literally and figuratively with one another. Even though Kurt's New York clubbing phase was short lived, it wasn't like he hadn't done this before. He'd danced with plenty of hot guys at clubs before, he'd grinded with hot guys at clubs before but this did not feel like that. This was new. This was different. God, did it feel different.
The lyrics looped around again and Kurt knew what was coming. The little bridge. The music would get quieter, the guitar would take over.
Got lost losing sleep
You're my fever dream
I know...
Kurt suddenly felt Blaine's hand come up to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like fire, those rough fingers wrapped around his smooth, freckled skin and his thumb pressed in front of Kurt's ear. It was possessive and so fucking hot. His eyes were hazel lava and his lips came forward as the song said
You're just another heartbreaker
The guitar laid in heavy and forceful, and the singer yowled, he moaned, and Kurt expected Blaine to crash into him like a wave against a rocky swore. But that would be water and Blaine was fire and Blaine just grazed their lips together, shaking with control and his tenuous grasp on it.
The pit of dancers around them were thrashing wildly, living their best lives on a Saturday night and Kurt couldn't have told you a single thing beyond the song playing, the sweat dripping down his back and beading on his forehead and heavy breathing and Blaine Blaine Blaine.
And then the song ended. It was over and the DJ or playlist or whatever was in charge of the music around here gracelessly changed over to a song by the Smiths and thank god it was at least that and not Dolly Parton because Kurt's whole world was frozen and falling and he wasn't sure he could take anything more jarring than that.
Blaine released his hold on Kurt's face, like he was snapping back into the moment, just now realizing where he was. His breathing still heavy but the dilation in his eyes dialing back some.
"You want to get out of here?" He asked in a voice that was huskier than it should be.
Kut wasn't sure what he meant by that. Hell, Kurt wasn't even sure if they had technically kissed or not and he had a lot of subjects left to unpack or topics he needed to take off the shelf and analyze but fuck that because Blaine nodded and said, "yeah, we should get out of here," and he grabbed Kurt's hand because I guess that's something they did now and led a stunned Kurt out into the summer night.
As it turns out, "getting out of here" had been a very literal phrase. They were back in the truck, hurdling back towards Cassville. The windows were rolled down and the air was thick with heat. Remarkably, the silence between them wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It didn't feel like the preamble to a "It's not you, it's me" speech that would denounce what had just occurred between them.
Kurt's body was still tingling when Blaine pulled the truck over, off the road and into a mostly flat, treeless stretch. Perhaps someone's field. He cut the engine and looked over to Kurt. He smiled, small and genuine, the return of Kurt's friend, not that sex god from back at the bar.
As Kurt so often did, he wordlessly followed Blaine. Kurt, who would never be pegged as a follower a day in his life, found himself following Blaine's lead without question and, so far, without regret. With anyone else, it had felt like assimilation. With Blaine, it was an adventure.
Blaine walked around to the back of the truck, where he dropped the tailgate down and climbed into the bed of the truck, an old ratty moving blanket already protecting the beaten bed. Kurt hauled his body up as well, thankful that he was even able to.
They laid back, side by side as Blaine said, "Look at the stars, Hummel."
And there they were, all of the stars, the entire universe stretched out for them to see. Kurt hadn't seen stars like this in years, not since he was little, back in Ohio. Not since…
"My mom used to lay out this huge quilt in our backyard when I was little and we'd look at the stars. She'd point out constellations but I could never really see them, ya know? Like, the big dipper doesn't look like a ladle to me. It just looks like stars. But I loved to just listen to her voice. I'd ask questions about the constellations like I cared just to ignore her words and listen to her voice some more." Kurt said, voice reverent and secret.
Blaine laughed. "My dad took me camping a few times when I was little. He did the same thing; teaching me constellations, that is."
It was the first time Blaine had ever mentioned his parents. In all of the time they'd spent together, out of all of their long rambling conversations, this was the first time. "Do you miss them?" Kurt asked hesitantly and instantly wishing he hadn't asked such a stupid question.
But Blaine seemed to actually ponder this before saying, "I don't know." Kurt waited for Blaine to continue but when he did, he did so with a blatant deflection. "So what did you think of the bar? Was it as po-dunk as you expected?"
Kurt let it slide. He knew as much as anyone that sometimes, no matter how much you loved your deceased parent, you just don't want to talk about them. "It was actually a little disappointing in the country bumpkin department, sad to say. But I liked it. Good drinks, decent music…" He trailed off, unsure of how to broach this subject that he was pretty sure they would need to discuss at some point.
But Blaine wasn't taking the bait. He pivoted, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that it isn't necessarily going to be giving any of your fancy New York clubs a run for their money anytime soon though, is it?"
Kurt laughed, "I mean, no. But not because...look, that place and a club in the city? That's apples and oranges. I can't compare them because they don't compare."
Blaine rolled his head to the side to finally look at Kurt, an eyebrow raised.
Kurt saw that and turned his attention back to the sky, back to the stars. "I mean it! I liked Scandals, and if you ever tell anyone that, they will not find your body, okay?"
Blaine laughed and Kurt took that as a sworn oath of secrecy. "And man, you want to talk about getting eaten alive? The New York clubs are insane. Cage dancers and neon, well, neon everything and the bare minimum when it comes to clothing. As little as you can wear without getting cited for indecent exposure." Kurt laughed, remembering a man in red thigh high heels, booty shorts and no shirt. He'd been really nice, bought Kurt a shot and attempted to teach him how to Vogue, which is way harder than it looks.
Kurt sighed fondly. Those clubbing days hadn't really been his thing, but he had some good memories. Memories he was proud to have. And some that...well, he was still hoping he'd forget. Bottomless margarita pitchers on an empty stomach? Maybe not his brightest moment. "You should come visit me in New York sometime. I'll take you out to a real gay bar."
Kurt turned his smile away from the sky to look at Blaine but those hazel eyes were turned back upward, a solemn look on Blaine's face.
Moments stretched to minutes of silence and Kurt looked back at the stars. He could hear crickets building a hum all around them and the darkness of their surroundings felt like it trapped all of the leftover heat of the sun. The air felt heavy as he pulled it in and out through his nose.
"How much longer do I have?" Blaine asked. His voice was steady, like he had accepted a truth.
Kurt turned his head to look at him again and, after a beat, Blaine's head, pillowed on his curls rolled to make eye contact. Kurt furrowed his brow, not sure what Blaine was asking. But as he studied Blaine's face he saw softness and a shine in his eye that looked so gentle. So accepting. A little sad, like he needed Kurt to know without him having to say it. Because maybe he really didn't want to say it out loud. And Kurt knew. He just knew.
"9 weeks. Maybe 10? I'm not...I'm not really sure." If Kurt was being honest, he'd stopped obsessing over it lately. He'd hardly even really thought about it.
Blaine nodded slowly, willing Kurt to understand. They both turned back to the stars, because it was easier. Because for all they didn't know about the universe out there, it felt like maybe they knew even less right here, between them. And what they did know were hard truths to swallow.
Kurt felt Blaine's warm fingers brush his before gently, carefully tangling with his. It was so loose but it was real and undeniable. And then Blaine said, "You're such a heartbreaker, Hummel." And he sounded a little like he was trying to laugh but it sounded weirdly thick and fake and Kurt didn't turn to look at him because he just couldn't. Not right now. And then suddenly, the song made sense and the almost kiss made sense and Blaine's shaky control made sense. Because Kurt is very familiar with self preservation.
So he just holds Blaine's hand as they stare at the stars because whatever is happening here, with them? It's bigger than 9 weeks. But that's all they have. And now they're stuck in what could have been and knowing that it never will. It just can't.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading; we're really making some progress. What did you think? Please feel free to leave a review, follow or favorite and I will see ya'll on Wednesday!