"James?" Kurt asked as the trio was ushered into apartment 708 by a tall man with dirty blonde locks and steel blue eyes. Blaine kept a step back as the man kissed Kurt's cheek readily, although to Blaine, the latter seemed slightly taken aback, slightly uncomfortable. It definitely wasn't his place to say anything, though. "We weren't expecting you here tonight," Kurt noted as Blaine hauled Mackenzie and their luggage through the door.
"Well, there was a slight change of plans, and… what kind of host would I be if I weren't here to welcome our guests?" James asked, gazing over Kurt's shoulder toward Blaine and Makenzie. James took a step, and offered Blaine his hand. "James Fitzpatrick. Nice to meet you, Blaine. Kurt here's told me tons about you."
Blaine shifted Mackenzie slightly so he could let go of the luggage and take the man's hand. His handshake was strong, fingers gripped firmly around Blaine's. "I've heard plenty about you as well," Blaine noted, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"All good things I hope!" James insisted with a laugh reminiscent of a 60's sitcom. "And you, pretty girl, must be Mackenzie!" James cooed, taking another step toward the Andersons, reaching for the tiny girl as if he were to pinch her cheeks or pat her head. Mackenzie didn't let it get that far, though, before she stuck out her arm stiff as a board.
"No!" the girl said firmly, face contorting in displeasure. She stiff-armed James' hand before gripping Blaine's neck tighter than before, and burying herself where she believed she couldn't be seen. James' face fell with dejection.
"We're a little shy," Blaine explained, giving Mackenzie a little bounce in his arms, trying to get her to loosen her grip. "And a little tired and cranky, I think," Blaine added, though in reality he doubted Mackenzie was as tired as he'd like. He had never seen her reject someone so strongly before, though. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, and chalked it up to a lot of change in the last 24 hours.
"James, let them settle in," Kurt suggested, setting a soft hand on the taller man's bicep. Kurt's eyes met Blaine's apologetically. "Come on, I'll show you the guest room." Kurt reached around both James and Blaine to grab the suitcase that Blaine had pulled in, allowing the father to focus on his child alone.
"Of course. Welcome, again," James offered, finally stepping aside to allow the Andersons further than three feet into the apartment. Blaine half smiled and nodded, stepping to follow Kurt.
The place was nice and neat, and pretty much everything Blaine would have expected of an apartment inhabited by one Kurt Hummel. The kitchen overlooked the living and dining areas, each expertly separated only by different flooring – carpet in the living area, a slate grey tile in the kitchen, and a distressed wood for the dining. Blaine walked between the back of couch and the counter with tall stools, following Kurt into a hallway with four doors.
"The unofficial tour… there's not a whole lot to it," Kurt claimed, gesturing back to the main living area they'd just walked through.
"Are you kidding? This place is huge," Blaine noted, looking back over his shoulder into the area which was probably the size of his old apartment, including his and Kenzie's bedrooms.
Kurt chuckled, and shrugged. "Well… this here is me and James' room," Kurt noted, gesturing into an open doorframe where a perfectly made bed sat across from a perfectly maintained vanity. The drapes matched the bedding and a variety of photographs, playbills, and ticket stubs were hung from a wire strung back and forth against the wall above the bed. Blaine smiled ever so slightly. It was so… Kurt.
"This is my office… workshop… studio… area thing," Kurt said, opening the next door, and reaching in to flick on a light. Blaine glanced in. The room was much smaller, but still probably the size of Mackenzie's old bedroom. The walls were lined with shelves containing fabrics and trims of all shades and materials. They were all color coordinated, neatly rolled or folded and placed just so. A couple mannequins sat by the corner of the room, windows on either side. A sewing machine sat not too far by. A small work table sat square in the center of the room, a faux chandelier hanging directly above.
"Wow…" Blaine said, not having known Kurt had stayed with his fashion to this extent. Hell, Blaine didn't know Kurt could sew. But clearly, that had changed, as the mannequins were clad in pieces of muslin and a small rack of clothes was tucked next to the sewing machine – all items Blaine could only assume Kurt had made. Kurt flipped the light back off, and closed the door firmly.
He turned around, and opened up the door directly across from Kurt's workspace. "And this is the guest room. The bathroom is right next door," Kurt offered, pointing to the last door, just a few feet back toward the living area. The door swung open to a much more cluttered version of anything else Blaine had seen, but clearly that was his own fault.
Cardboard boxes were placed floor to ceiling as neatly as possible, although it was clear somewhere along the line Kurt had given up on stacking the boxes in any sort of particular fashion. The bed was pristine, however, with a navy blue comforter and plenty of pillows.
"I think Kenzie's bedframe is over by the closet," Kurt noted, pointing to one of the taller boxes, leaning against the wall along with the child-sized mattress that Blaine had sent with the movers. "I didn't want to assume where you'd want it… but I can help you put it together…" Kurt noted.
"Don't worry about it," Blaine insisted. "Kenz will just sleep in bed with me tonight, and I'll get to work on all this stuff tomorrow," Blaine promised, having a sneaking suspicion that the clutter was getting to Kurt on some level.
"Oh, of course. No rush!" Kurt insisted. "I just… I wanted you to know I'm here to help however I can. I took off from work tomorrow so…"
"You didn't have to do that Kurt," Blaine said before Kurt could finish, setting Mackenzie down on the floor. "You're already doing so much by letting us stay here."
"It's not a big deal, really," Kurt insisted. "I can always do some work from home if…"
Kurt was interrupted once again when James came by, knocking on the door frame. "Everything alright in here?" he asked, peeking into the box-plagued room.
"All good. Thanks James," Blaine said with a warm smile.
"Great! I'm pouring some champagne to celebrate! I know it's late, but never too late for a little celebratory bubbly. Wouldn't you agree Blaine?" James offered, holding up a bottle of wine with a gold label.
"I'm actually pretty tired… and Mackenzie…"
"Nonsense! I won't take no for an answer!" James demanded cheerfully walking back down the hall toward the kitchen.
Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry about him… he's…"
"Kurt its fine. He seems really nice. Really hospitable," Blaine complimented as Mackenzie slinked away to a box labeled 'Kenzie's toys'. Blaine checked on her out of the corner of his eyes, before turning back to Kurt.
"Yeah, to a fault, maybe," Kurt agreed, hugging himself and rolling his eyes just slightly. "He means well. Don't feel obliged. I can tell him you're too tired."
"No, it's ok. I'll be right there," Blaine noted. Kurt nodded, and turned to leave, while Blaine went over to where Mackenzie was rooting through her box.
"Happy to see all your toys kiddo?" Blaine asked, squatting down next to his daughter. "I told you they'd all be here waiting for you." Mackenzie just nodded. "What's wrong baby?" Blaine asked, surprised to see that his child's smile wasn't plastered to her face like usual.
"Daddy, when can we go home?" she asked in an impossibly small voice, her hazel eyes not daring to meet Blaine's. But Blaine knew all too well the way her eyes were probably watering up, and the little wrinkles around her nose were downturned.
"Oh Kenzie," Blaine sighed, sitting down on the floor, back against the wall. He pulled his daughter onto his lap, and gently pulled her chin toward his own face, so that the little girl was looking at him. "I know this isn't what you wanted. But you need to trust daddy when he says this is what is best for us. This is our home for now, sweetie. And… I'm going to miss our Ohio home too. I already do. I miss Uncle Sam and Aunt Brie. I miss our apartment and the park across the street."
"I miss the tire swing," Mackenzie added in.
"Of course, the tire swing!" Blaine agreed. "I'm going to miss all of that too, baby. But we're going to make new memories and fall in love with new things in our New York home," he promised as he tucked a blonde curl behind the little girl's ear. "And we're going to make new friends. Like Mr. Kurt, and Mr. James."
Mackenzie's nose wrinkled at the notion of new friends. Blaine laughed, and kissed the little girl's forehead. "I promise, Mackenzie. This is going to be a great adventure for both of us. And we'll go back and visit Ohio. We'll see mommom and Unlce Sam and Aunt Brie and Uncle Wes…" Blaine promised. "And maybe they'll even come visit us."
"Will Unlce Coopuh come visit?" Mackenzie asked sweetly.
"I think he just might," Blaine noted. Mackenzie nodded, and looked away as if she were still contemplating everything her father had just said. "Come here, kiddo," Blaine ordered, pulling Mackenzie in for a long, strong hug, and a couple of kisses on the cheek.
"Daddy, stop!" Mackenzie squealed, pushing her father away when his attack continued.
"Not. Until. You. Smile." Blaine insisted, pausing between each kiss.
"I'm smilin'! I'm smilin'!" Kenzie replied in a fit of giggles.
"Good," Blaine said, finally letting the child catch her breath. "I love you."
"I love you too," Mackenzie replied, giving her father a kiss back.
"I'm going to go get a drink with Mr. Kurt and Mr. James. Do you want to come?" Blaine asked.
"No…" Mackenzie answered softly, demeanor turning inward once more.
"That's fine, Kenz. Why don't you unpack your toys? And I'll be back in a couple minutes?" Blaine offered, pushing some of the blonde curls he'd displaced back out of his child's face.
Kenzie looked from Blaine, to her box of toys and shrugged. "Ok…" she said, sliding off her dads lap, and taking a few steps over to the box. "But you'll be right back?" she asked, turning to look at Blaine and confirm.
"Of course," Blaine said, kissing Mackenzie on the top of the head one last time as he stood. "I'll be right outside if you need me." Blaine walked over to the doorframe, and looked back at his daughter as she stared into the brown cardboard box. He sighed inwardly, wishing he could make the transition smoother. He could only hope she'd come around to the idea of their new situation soon.
Blaine pivoted and turned down the hallway, wringing out his hands as he approached the kitchen. He froze and stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he heard the intensity of the whispers that were coming from his destination.
"I told you Kurt. I didn't want you here alone with him. You told me to be honest. So there it is." James' voice was deeper, raspier than it had been before, even for a whisper. Blaine's heart sank. He wasn't as welcome here as James had made it seem…
"James… I told you a thousand times. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I'm not upset that you're here. I'm upset you didn't tell me you'd be here," Kurt replied, his whispers slightly higher pitched – more soothing, though.
"I live here too, you know."
"Doesn't seem like it recently."
"I pay my share of rent."
"Living somewhere is more than paying rent, James."
"Well, Kurt, maybe I'd be around more it you gave me a reason to stay." Blaine cringed.
"Oh, because an engagement ring isn't enough of a reason?" Kurt asked, sounding exasperated.
"It wasn't enough of a reason not to invite your ex to move in." Another stab in the chest. Blaine thought he should probably turn and walk back to the guest room. Eavesdropping wasn't any way to make a first impression, but his feet seemed glued to the floor.
"You. Agreed to this." Kurt hissed. "You, who hasn't slept next to me in that bad for more than two nights in a row since October. You haven't even been home to talk to me about this. To bring up these concerns."
"So you agree. I should be concerned."
"Oh my god." Blaine could picture Kurt pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He took two slow steps backward, making sure not to cause any creaks. He didn't want to get caught in this position.
"I'll be right back Kenzie," he said loud enough for the other men to hear once he was close to the bedroom door again.
"You said that five minutes ago!" Mackenzie replied, confused that her father hadn't seemed to have left yet. Blaine clenched his fists, resisting the urge to bring his palm to face. He should have known Kenz would say something. He decided to bank on the fact that Kurt and James wouldn't think anything of it. He took a loud step, one last warning of his approach, wanting more than anything for that conversation to end.
He stepped out into the kitchen, where James leaned casually against one counter, and Kurt the other just across from him. They each held a flute of champagne. James held two, and offered Blaine one with a too-perfect smile. "There he is, the man of the hour," James crooned. Blaine smiled uncomfortably, accepting the drink. "Welcome to New York, Blaine."
He held his glass up, the two other men raising their own to the small toast, and all took a long sip. While his lips were still on the glass, his eyes locked with Kurt's just briefly. Most people wouldn't know the difference, but Blaine could tell by the certain way the blue of his iris sparkled, and the corners of his lids downturned even though his lips turned up in a smile… the man was on the brink of tears.
Blaine turned and looked at James, whose smile was more convincing. Too convincing. "Thank you, James, for the warm welcome."
"Of course, Blaine. Any friend of Kurt's is a friend of mine."
From the Archives of Blaine Anderson's Text Messages
Sunday, January 19th, 2020
12:02 am
Blaine: We made it safe and sound. All settled in for the night. Just wanted to let you guys know.
Sam: Glad to hear it. How's the short stack?
Blaine: Sleeping, finally. When you take three naps on the train ride, your internal clock gets a little thrown.
Sam: I believe it. Hopefully its short lived.
Blaine: Sam, was this a bad idea?
Sam: You've been there less than three hours and you're already second guessing?
Blaine: No. I just needed confirmation.
Sam: Well as much as I'd like to tell you to come back home, you're doing what's best for you and Kenz
Blaine: Yeah, I hope so.
Sam: I know so. You'd never do anything less.
Blaine: Thanks, Sam.
Sam: Of course. Love ya bud.
Sam: Brie loves you too. (In her sleepy voice)
Blaine: Love you guys. I'll call tomorrow. Goodnight.
Sam: If by that you mean Kenzie will call, then I'll answer. Goodnight.