A/N: Happy Wednesday! I know the last part was…well, pretty rough, to put it lightly. But, that was because it's what Kurt's like could have been if he'd stayed in New York. But he didn't. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
What was…
The house sat, waiting. Like a father in an airport, a lover with dinner kept warm in the oven; a warm greeting that was equal parts peaceful and thrilling. The freshly rebuilt, not-so-secret secret house stood quietly behind it's army of trees. Shielded from the eyes of passersby.
While Kurt was sure that the house hadn't been 100% replicated to it's previous state, the resemblance was astonishing. And all it took was a contractor with almost 40 years experience and townful of people who just wanted to see their beloved handyman taken care of.
This house, while now the product of so many people, was solidly Blaine's passion project. So much of the finishing work, while now being decided by Kurt as self-appointed creative director and one day occupant, was being done slowly, methodically and lovingly by Blaine himself.
As much as Kurt wanted to see the house completed and start moving furniture and textiles in, he saw the way Blaine reverently touched the banister. The way his eyes softly roved around the living room, an affection in his eyes. This house had symbolized so much to him before Kurt had been in the picture. And now? Now it symbolized even more. Now, it was a future. Now, it was a promise. Now, it had a dance studio.
As the last lazy fingers of summer dragged through their hair and stained their skin, Blaine gassed up the truck. Kurt bought far too many snacks and brought two huge bottles of water. They loaded into the truck, giddy smiles on their faces. And they drove. They drove and drove until the roads became unrecognizable. Until, even Blaine, had no idea where they were. He took lefts when he normally took rights and was careful to make sure he didn't slip into old routes. They drove until the sun tipped onto the latter half of it's arc across the sky. They kept the radio tuned to the old country station until it became to staticy to bear and had to switch it to an oldies station. Blaine's low voice carrying the melodies of The Eagles and Kurt taking over when the song slipped away and Fleetwood Mac came on.
They drove until the gaslight came on. They filled up and kept driving, running west,
running away from the fast approaching night. But the dark sky finally caught them and with it, a million stars. Stars that Kurt had always found comfort in, knowing that once he was back in New York, the same one's would still be there to visit, just hidden behind the lights of the city.
Kurt rolled his window down, letting the darkness flood the cab of the truck. Blaine's curls were pulled loose and wild by the breeze, his skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his white teeth practically glowing in the dark as he laughed.
Kurt had asked once, if they could drive until they were lost and he had meant it as a means of escape. But now, early September, sitting in this humid truck with the late summer air pouring in through open windows, Blaines' sweaty hand grasped in his, Kurt tipped his head back and laughed.
No matter how lost they got, they would find their way home. Together.
A few nights later, Blaine brought out a spare toothbrush and presented Kurt with a pair of pajamas that would stay at the loft. He cleaned out a drawer, made space in the closet and pulled down a second mug for coffee. It was small and so simple. It was really an inevitability that rocked Kurt to the core. It was a sign of permanence. He was staying. He didn't have to leave anymore.
The beat pulsed, fun and playful, through the club. The lights cast everything in surreal shades of blues and reds, a dreamscape complete with a crush of bodies, moving as if a complete unit. They had played coy, knuckles barely brushing as their shoes crunched softly in the gravel parking lot. A heat, building between them as effortlessly, they slipped into their old roles. Best friends but nothing more. They sat at the bar, on the same stools. They sat close, shoulders almost touching but not quite. They shared small smiles and nervous glances and finally swivelled around to watch the dance floor. They chatted and it was nice but it was tension-filled through and through. It was so familiar. It was a night they'd lived before. It was a night filled with almosts and not quites. It was a night they could now rewrite the ending to.
A song with a hypnotic lull began to play, something with the same magnetism as that first night here, so many moons ago. Wordlessly, Blaine downed his drink, thumping the empty tumbler back onto the bar top, and he grabbed Kurt's hand with a sure strong grip. He lead him to the dance floor.
They buried themselves in the crowd of bodies, the smell of stale sweat and sugary alcohol somehow making them giddy as they swayed lightly, bodies still held apart by a few inches as the lyrics began.
I don't care if it hurts
I'll pay my weight in blood
To feel my nerves wake up
The music had the briefest of pauses. Their fingers touched. And the music started again with a a little base underlining it all.
So love me now or let me go
Let me feel these highs and lows
Before the doors to my heart close (close)
An unexplainable force pulled them closer until Kurt could feel the brush of Blaine's breath on his neck. It was the same force that had tugged at them all summer. He lowered his head just the slightest to lock eyes with Blaine's seeing the same fire burning in his.
Touch me someone
Feather-light, Kurt moved a lock of Blaine's hair off of his forehead, careful to touch nothing else.
I'm too young to feel so
Numb, numb, numb, numb
His heart was pounding. His body ached in way it had that night. A longing to know. A wish to be closer. So close but just not quite close enough. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't keep up their little game.
You could be the one to
He fell into Blaine, long arms falling over his shoulders, chests flush against one another and he felt Blaine's sharp gasp as he felt those solid workman's fingers dig into the small of his back.
Make me feel something, something
Make me feel something, something
Show me that you're human, oh
Make me feel something, something
The music pulled back but they didn't. They remained glued to one another, the words of the next verse washing over them like a feared prophecy from their last time here.
I never thought I'd miss the bittersweet
I gave those years away
And lost my sense of taste
'Cause all of your lovers eventually fade
And leave you alone in the bed you made
And all of the colors that bleed to gray leave nothing
Almost in retaliation, Kurt pulled Blaine impossibly closer, their hands roving unabashedly, if only as a reminder that that would not be their future. Not anymore. They would not fade. Kurt mouthed the next words, cheek to cheek with Blaine. He thought he felt Blaine doing the same.
Touch me someone
I'm too young to feel so
Numb, numb, numb, numb
So give me just enough to
The chorus slammed back down and the bodies around them were suffocating. It suddenly felt like too much. It felt like that night. A night filled with so much want and the recognition that everything was going to change. It left Kurt breathless and before he even knew what he was doing, he was grabbing Blaine's hand and tugging him through the pulsing mob of dancing drunks.
So if you're gonna stay, then stay
But if you're gonna go
Make sure that you hurt me just enough to
The burst through the wall of people. Kurt made eye contact with a bartender and slapped a twenty on the bar, eyes probably looking panicked as he pulled a confused Blaine to the front door, the music following them.
Make me feel something, something
Make me feel something, something
Show me that I'm human, oh
Make me feel something, something
The outside air was still warm but not nearly as claustrophobic as it had been inside and Kurt took a ragged inhale. He felt like he was resurfacing from a dream.
"Hummel? What's going on, hey. Talk to me."
Kurt followed the link of his hand, up his partner's tanned arm and up to his face. Sweaty and concerned, eyes wide with love.
Kurt fell forward, lips finally finding purchase and he kissed Blaine within an inch of his life. He kissed him like he'd wanted to last summer. He kissed him in a way that said he wasn't ever going to let go. And Blaine's wide stance, his iron grip, showed him the same.
There had been card nights at Cliff and Jo's. There had been charming double dates with Doug and Darla. There had been quilting lessons from Linda and gossip with Bev. There had been so many dinner's at the diner, pestering Ray for the recipe to his pecan pie.
There was a back to school parade. There was the closing of the pools and the leaves changing striking shades of orange and yellow and red that Blaine said, quietly one night in the darkness of the loft, reminded him of the fire that once consumed his house. Kurt had listened quietly until he'd finished, rolling on his side and draping his body over Blaine's. "So when can I finally put counters in that kitchen?" Blaine had laughed, like Kurt knew he would. But it also reminded them that their future had not been lost, as Blaine thought it had been that night, so many months ago. It was right there, staring them down, beckoning to them.
There was their first fight, over said kitchen counters, that was sort of silly and - they both knew it - petty. There was their second fight, their first serious one, about Kurt wanting to spend money on the house and Blaine's hesitancy to let anyone help him.
"It's not just your house anymore! I want to help!" Kurt had screeched.
"I know but I don't need your help, Hummel."
"I know you don't need it, but I want to. Please. Let me help."
There had been brash accusations of always feeling like a guest in the home Blaine wanted him to live in, a retort of "Well, you don't have to live here if you really don't want to."
They had retreated to their corners only to come together again, talking with leveler heads and quieter voices. Reassurances were made. No real damage done and they'd grown stronger.
They grew stronger every day. Little tests and big tests, hurdling them all and only occasionally falling flat on their faces.
They built a life with a solid foundation and yes, finally counters in the kitchen.
A/N: I really struggled with how I wanted to sum up 6 months of life and I felt the best way to do it was to just give us glimpses. Let me know what you thought, I'm curious as to if you liked it. I'll see you for the final installment on Friday: What will be.