From the Archives of Kurt Hummel's Text Messages

Sunday, December 13th, 2020

9:36 am

Kurt: Rach, I did something bad.

Rachel: NO. NO YOU DID NOT!

Rachel: Kurt you did not hook up with Blaine in the hotel room last night.

Kurt: NO. Not quite. Not really at all.

Kurt: But I thought about it. My lips were like… millimeters from his when I realized what I was doing and just let him fall back on the bed and pass out.

Rachel: Oh my god Kurt. You're engaged. Get yourself together.

Kurt: Am I really engaged though?

Rachel: Do you want to be?

Kurt: God, Rachel. I'm seriously the worst.

Rachel: A little bit. You gotta talk to James.

Kurt: No. The point of coming out here for the holidays was to get time away from him and all our drama.

Rachel: And to figure out what you really want. And apparently last night you did not want to be betrothed.

Kurt: I was drunk! And he asked me to help unbutton his shirt because he couldn't control his fingers. And his chest was just… ugh

Rachel: Dear lord. Kurt, this isn't ok.

Kurt: I know, Rach. I didn't text you to be judged though. I was hoping for more of an 'everything will be ok'.

Rachel: Well I'm too hungover to fake nice.

Kurt: And I'm too hungover to deal with this alone. Come back please?

Rachel: To the room you tainted with your infidelity? I don't think so.

Kurt: God, Rach. You're acting like we fucked. I just fell on top of him and reeealllly considered it for a moment.

Rachel: Fine. We need to check out soon anyway. And Mercedes is taking forever in the bathroom.

Kurt paced back and forth by the feet of the bed in his hotel room. Since Blaine had left, he'd changed into skinny jeans, a simple white shirt, and a blue overcoat. Even hungover, he refused to face the world in anything less. His hair was back in place, and his skin was perfectly moisturized. But despite all of his preparations, you could tell Kurt wasn't as put together as he looked. He picked at his fingernails with his teeth, nibbling slightly – a habit he'd long broken, but relapsed upon in moments of anxiety. He hadn't managed to finish packing his belongings yet, because he kept getting distracted. His clothes were strewn across his crudely made bed, half folded, waiting to be tucked into a suitcase. His pacing only stopped when there was a knock at the door, and Kurt shuffled over to let Rachel inside.

"Good morning, sunshine," Rachel said in an overly cheery fashion. The sunglasses covering her eyes told Kurt that she was nursing quite the headache, despite her bright demeanor. She knew better than to be the woman wearing glasses indoors. She was just mocking him.

"Shut up, Berry," Kurt mumbled, letting the girl inside the hotel room. Rachel immediately walked over to the dresser, and grabbed the key card which she'd given to Blaine the night before. "In a way this is your fault. You should have known letting Blaine sleep here would be a bad idea," Kurt suggested, sitting on the edge of the bed which was not covered in his belongings.

"When I gave you the room key, you had no intention of bringing him back here," Rachel recalled. Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but then the memory began coming back.

"Kurt… I should… hic… I should go… hic. I gotta go home, man," Blaine sputtered, nearly falling over as he took a couple steps away from the bar. "See… I got this kid right? And she needs me. She needs me, Kurt. I gotta find her! Where is she!" Blaine continued, panic flooding his face.

"Blaine, its fine!" Kurt said, shushing the other man as he became louder and louder. Kurt was still pretty buzzed. Well… pretty passed buzzed. But he'd stopped taking the shots Blaine got him about an hour ago – stealthily throwing them into one of the potted ferns nearby after toasting. He wasn't anywhere near as gone as his counterpart. In hindsight, Kurt probably should have cut Blaine off an hour ago too. But honestly, Blaine seemed to have been fine one moment, and completely shit faced the next. "Mackenzie is with Cooper? Remember?"

"You know… hic… you know Cooper? How d'you know my brother?" Blaine asked, a look of skepticism crossing his face. Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"Blaine, you're trashed. We should get you back to the hotel."

"No YOU'RE trashed," Blaine insisted, poking Kurt's chest. Kurt couldn't help but laugh, though, seeing how serious Blaine was being despite the sway in his stature and the slur in his speech. "And I'm fine! I'm gonna …hic… party until it's twenty twenty one!"

Kurt caught Blaine, but stumbled as well a bit as the shorter man let go of the bar and nearly face planted. Kurt groaned, pushing Blaine back up off of him. "Blaine, what about Mackenzie?" Kurt offered as motivation.

"Oh my god!" Blaine said, panic in his eyes again. "Mackenzie! I have to find her. Have you seen a little girl? She's my daughter. Have I told you I have a daughter?"

"Yes Blaine, I know," Kurt said with a chuckle. "We'll go back to the hotel and get you to bed which is where she is now."

"Oh. Ok. Good. It's past her bedtime." Blaine said, turning away from the bar and taking a few clumsy steps.

"Blaine, wait, I'm gonna tell Rachel we're leaving," Kurt said, trying to get Blaine to slow down. It didn't seem like he had heard, though, because Blaine kept scuffling toward the ballroom's exit. Kurt decided he wasn't getting anywhere too fast though, and ran over to where Rachel was still chatting with Mercedes and Tina.

"Rach, Blaine is about to kill himself by walking into traffic. I'm gonna take him home."

"No problem. Do you have your room key?" Rachel asked. Kurt nodded, reaching for his back pocket where he was sure he'd tucked the card used to enter the hotel room. But there wasn't anything there. He patted his other back pocket, then his two front ones, taking his wallet out and checking there because – it had to be somewhere, right?

"Fuck," Kurt muttered, fishing through his pockets again like it would have reappeared magically.

Rachel rolled her eyes and opened up her clutch, pulling out the white card with the hotel's blue logo on the front. "Here."

"Thanks, Rach!" Kurt said, turning on his heels before chasing after Blaine who was just getting to the door leading out of the ballroom.

"Fuck," Kurt muttered. How could he have forgotten? He hadn't even been that drunk at that point.

"What the hell happened anyway?" Rachel asked, still not completely understanding of how Kurt ended up in this situation to begin with.

"Well we got here and Blaine couldn't come up with his room number for the life of him. So I told him he should just stay in my room," Kurt explained.

"I know. You texted me that part, and I said I'd just stay with Tina," Rachel noted, a roll of her eyes evident even with the huge pair of shades on her face.

"Whatever, Rach. Well we got back here and took of our jackets. And he got his tie undone, and was trying to unbutton his shirt…"

"Why was he taking off his shirt!?"

"Because no one wants to sleep in dress clothes Rachel! God, let me finish!"

"Sorry…"

"Well he was so drunk that he couldn't figure out the buttons on his shirt, so I offered to help him, and well… being a little tipsy myself I kind of stumbled into him as I undid the last button and we both fell back onto his bed," Kurt continued, his voice trailing off at the end as if it were too painful to say aloud. "His chest is so… hairy now. And defined. And just… grown up. And it threw me off guard. It was so familiar and so new at the same time. He still smells the same. And his eyes just bore holes into my soul without even trying. I just… I think I had a semi when I rolled off of him and into my own bed."

"And you didn't even kiss him," Rachel said as if she were disappointed.

"Wait, are you saying I should have kissed him now?" Kurt snapped, confused.

"No. Sounds hot, though," Rachel noted with a shrug as she turned to her own suitcase in the corner to pull it up onto the bed and root for her clean clothes. "I'd have jumped his bones if I were that drunk."

Kurt rolled his eyes and got up, beginning to once again pack away his things. At least now he was getting this off his chest, and could focus a little more. "Well, I didn't."

"But you still feel guilty, so that's something," Rachel noted, turning around and lifting up her hair – a sign to Kurt that said 'unzip me'.

"Yeah… I do," Kurt noted, reaching forward and unzipping the tight number Rach was still wearing from the night before. He hadn't thought about that. He hadn't even done anything wrong, really, and he still felt like absolute crap. That must mean he still wants things to work with James on some level.

"Plus, you're probably in like… the longest dry spell of your life. When's the last time you and Jamie bumped uglies?" Rachel asked, pulling a sports bra over her head, and adjusting herself – clearly choosing comfort over appearance for the travel back to Lima.

Kurt rolled his eyes at Rachels choice of words, but answered anyway. "Three months," Kurt sighed. In a way, she was right. While it wasn't Kurt's longest dry spell ever, it had been the longest since he'd met James 4 years earlier. "God… you're right. I'm overreacting."

"I think so," Rachel concluded, pulling up the pair of yoga pants she'd packed and reaching for the green t shirt she'd laid out. "I still think you should talk to James about it, though."

Kurt sighed. Perhaps Rachel was right. If Kurt really did still feel something for James, he should act on that, right? Maybe this was a sign that Kurt needed to reach out, and start repairing what he had.

From the Archives of Kurt Hummel's Text Messages

Sunday, December 13th, 2020

10:43am

Kurt: I miss you.

James: I miss you too…

Kurt: I still don't know what I want.

James: That's ok… we can figure it out when you come back?

Kurt: Are you still staying at Ryans?

James: Yeah. I think it's for the best, right now.

Kurt: Ok.

James: I love you, Kurt. Nothing has changed that.

Kurt: I love you too. I'm sorry.

James: Go enjoy your family. I'll see you in January.