You Make Me Feel So Young
NOTES:
blut und ehre = blood and honor
die Stärke= strength
THREE WEEKS EARLIER
Someone was screaming in Blaine's ear. Normally he would have been eager to rush to their aid, but this time it was just annoying. The scream came in equally spaced bursts, acting like a jackhammer against the silence of the early morning. As his awareness sharpened, he realized that it was, in fact, his cell phone alarm shrieking from the bedside table.
With a lazy arm, he reached toward the rumbling phone to silence the cacophony and then slumped back into the bed. He gently moved his cheek to lay on Kurt's chest.
"You'd think this 'getting up early' thing would get easier." Blaine mumbled. Kurt smirked and let out a hum of a laugh. He turned his body slowly to his right side, requiring Blaine to shift his position back to his pillow. When they were face to face, their noses almost touching, Kurt lovingly rested his hand on Blaine's cheek.
"You saying you want to give up on our nighttime fun?" his eyebrow rose, as he studied Blaine's reaction. Blaine's eyes widened and he jokingly gasped,
"Give up something like that? What blasphemy!"
After a collective chuckle, they leaned in and lightly brushed their lips together. This wasn't enough for Blaine. When they pulled away, his eyes looked longingly at his lover's lips. Kurt took the hint and leaned in again. This kiss was much more forceful. Kurt and Blaine poured their love and passion for each other into it, massaging their tongues together. Blaine adored his touch. He loved the taste of him and his desire to continue was near insatiable. To his dismay, Kurt pulled away abruptly,
"Oh, Lord, I can't let you kiss me like that. I have morning breath. So gross." He said, covering his mouth as if to protect Blaine from the smell. Blaine leaned in closer to him, pressing his forehead against Kurt's,
"I love you, morning breath and all." With a playful chuckle, Kurt placed one more soft kiss on his lover's lips and then pulled the covers off of himself.
Blaine slouched against the pillows as if to pout. He kept his hand around Kurt's wrist until he had walked far enough from the bed to pull it away. With a childish, yet playful, huff he stood from the bed and began to tidy up the sheets.
"Fine, deprive your fiancé of his morning pleasure." Kurt turned back and gave him a flirtatious look. He sneaked back onto the bed, kneeling on top of the covers with his face close to Blaine's.
"This fiancé stinks like hell and desperately needs a shower. So, get your booty up, you sexy motherfucker so I can help you make the bed."
Blaine furrowed his eyebrows playfully and cooed. With a smile he returned the affection of his lover and leaned in until their noses touched,
"I love it when you order me around." Blaine got to his feet after a pillow was launched in his direction. With Kurt's help he began to pull the sheets neatly toward the head of the bed. Kurt stood up straight and rigidly grabbed for the bedspread that was crumpled on the floor. Feigning the robotic stature of a disgruntled drill sergeant he tossed it at Blaine,
"Get to it, subordinate."
With a chuckle, they both performed the same action with the bedspread removing all wrinkles from its surface. Then, like a choreographed dance, they each selected throw pillows from the floor and placed all of them in their assigned spots. They had been doing this ritually since Blaine had moved to New York from Lima. There was never a question whether he would be joining Kurt at the Bushwick apartment, and he fit into the morning routine that Kurt had established as if he had always been there. Wake up, make the bed, select an outfit, one in the shower while the other has breakfast, reconvene and begin the journey to class. Sometimes Blaine wondered if he and his fiancé shared synapses.
Kurt, being the anticipatory person that he was, had already started walking toward the bathroom with the outfit he had set aside the night before. He turned to Blaine before closing the door with a playful quip,
"I will try to save you some hot water. It depends how nice I am feeling." With a wink and a friendly scoff from his lover, Kurt disappeared into the bathroom.
"Oh, you saucy bitch!" Blaine called after him only to be answered with a hearty guffaw.
As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, Blaine started making a mental list of all the things he had to dig out of the cupboards and refrigerator in order to construct a modicum of a breakfast for the duo. His stomach was craving blueberry pancakes, but his mind was feeling lazy and unwilling to put in the effort to make them. There was also the fact that his diet had changed since moving to New York. When it came to the variety of meal selections, Lima paled in comparison. Even the short distance between his front door to the end of the next block had more to choose from than the entirety of Lima. The plethora of choices was both a blessing and a curse. What he lacked after settling into the Bushwick neighborhood was self control, and it led to a less than desirable number on the bathroom scale. To anyone who didn't know him, Blaine was in no way overweight. In fact he was the opposite with a well toned physique that many would envy. Blaine's opinion of himself, however, would definitely be less kind. This made his mind lean more toward the healthier meal options like oatmeal and fruit.
After a moment's contemplation, mostly caving to his lazy mind, Blaine gathered two bowls, spoons and glasses from the cupboards and placed them on the table. As he filled the teapot with water at the sink, he looked out the window, taking in the early morning sunlight. It almost succeeded in waking him up. A nice piping cup of coffee would have to do the rest.
He placed the now full teapot on the burner and, turning the knob, watched the flame dance to life. As the pot began to heat up, Blaine collected an assortment of fruit and cream from the refrigerator and placed them on the table next to the bowls. Standing on his tiptoes, he opened the pantry above the stove and pulled out the tub of oats that called to him. The small jar of honey sat next to it. After pulling it from the shelf too, he placed them next to the collection of breakfast ingredients he had already assembled.
With a long and deep yawn, he sauntered over to the television at the other end of the apartment and set it to the local news station, KLBA. The animated faces of news anchors Joe Walker and Lauren Lopez graced the screen as they delivered the top stories. Blaine stood and watched with his arms folded, still trying desperately to shake the fatigue from his body.
"Hey, Kenny, what should we be expecting on the weather front today? Give us some good news, why don't you?" Lauren said with a snicker. The screen cut to Kenny O'Sullivan, the local chief meteorologist who often donned a dorky tie for his delivery of the forecast. Today it appeared to have a comic book theme with the black material decorated in all kinds of onomatopoeia in bright yellows, reds, greens and blues. Each word was framed in its own cartoonish speech bubble. Some had circles, some looked like punch outs and others were adorned with cheerful little clouds. Kenny smirked at the camera and pointed at it, as if trying to get the viewer's attention,
"Oh, boy, do I have good news for you. On this lovely September morning you can expect clear skies and a high of 70 degrees. No storms appear on the horizon, so I would highly recommend that you take advantage of this lovely weather and head outside sometime. As for the rest of the week…"
Blaine's attention was brought back to the teapot as it sang from the stove-top. He shuffled over to the kitchen and quickly deposited some oats into his bowl from the large tub. Carefully removing the pot from the stove, but leaving the flame on, he carried it over to the table and slowly poured some of the boiling water over the oats. He breathed in the earthy scent as they cooked in the hot liquid. As he placed the pot back on the stove and turned the flame to low, he heard the bathroom door open. Kurt emerged among a cloud of steam with his bathrobe tied snugly at his waist.
"That was fast," Blaine said as he raised his eyebrows. Kurt nodded,
"I'm more hungry than I am dirty." he countered. Blaine let out a playful snort,
"That, my love, is up for debate."
Blaine took a seat in front of the bowl of oatmeal and began to dress it up to his liking. After adding a healthy variety of blueberries, strawberries and some honey, he took in the delicious aroma through his nostrils. After burying his spoon in and lifting to his lips, he met eyes with Kurt, who appeared as if he was stifling a laugh.
"What?" he asked, defensively.
"Are you eating breakfast or filming a Quaker commercial?"
"What if I said both? Shut up, I'm hungry too."
Kurt just snickered as he completed the same ritual as Blaine, pouring the hot water over a pile of oats, letting them steep and then adding his desired garnishes. In the silence of their robotic moves, they heard a new story being introduced by the news anchors.
"Two young men were found dead in their Ridgewood apartment last Thursday after an alleged hate crime." Blaine and Kurt almost flinched at the word hate crime but they were also very interested in the apartment location,
"Ridgewood? Isn't that really close?" Blaine inquired, looking at Kurt. He was answered with a nod. Their eyes were glued to the TV as they continued to listen intently. Ms. Lopez continued with the story,
"The hate crimes have been linked to a string of deaths that have occurred over the past year in the NYC area." The camera turned to Mr. Walker who continued as an image appeared next to him on the right of the screen.
"Local authorities, and the FBI believe that the string of hate crimes can be linked to a Neo-Nazi group known as die Stärke. Victims of these crimes have been confirmed to have the word "sünde," German for "sinner," branded to their skin. In other cases, oftentimes after PRIDE and LGBTQ festivals, this gang has left the symbol spray painted on walls or painted on cars. " Blaine and Kurt looked at the image. A balled up fist, appearing to punch the viewer, was surrounded by a link of chains. Around the chains they saw what looked like the iron cross that had been used by the Nazi party during World War II. Surrounding the fist were the words "blut und erhe"* which neither Blaine nor Kurt could understand. They weren't sure they wanted to. Ms. Lopez finished the story,
"Unfortunately, no trace of their identity has been left at any crime scene. Local authorities and FBI are continuing their investigation to bring these criminals to justice. Anyone in the Ridgewood or surrounding neighborhood is being advised to exercise extreme caution. Avoid walking alone at night and make sure to make your location known to at least one other person at all times. If you see this symbol or know any information of this Neo-Nazi organization, you are asked to contact your local police."
As the morning news went to a commercial break, Kurt and Blaine looked at each other with concerned expressions. Kurt nervously took another bite of his oatmeal.
"Well?" Blaine spoke first. The seriousness of the situation was too weighty for him to articulate a question.
"Well what?" Kurt responded.
"What do you think? Does that story concern you?" The worry was evident in Blaine's voice. Kurt wasn't entirely sure how to answer. He knew that, sadly, every day he held Blaine's hand when they walked down the street there was a chance of them being attacked by narrow- minded people. He also knew that Blaine was a protective person, and he too was aware of the hate of others. Had he completely forgotten about Dave Korofsky shoving him against the wall for suggesting he was gay?
Kurt cleared his throat. He methodically placed his spoon next to his bowl, and placed his elbow on the table's edge. With his chin resting on his hand, he looked at Blaine again,
"Am I concerned? Well, yeah, I am. But I also know that there are hate crimes that occur every day."
"Not by Neo-Nazis." Blaine interjected.
"Most of the time we don't know who is committing the hate crimes because they run away like cowards. Maybe more of them are Neo-Nazis and we just never find out."
"Kurt," Blaine's voice took on the stern tone of an annoyed teacher.
"Yes, Blaine, I am concerned. But I am not going to let it stop me, or us," he reached across the table and took Blaine's hand, "from living. You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because then they win."
After a pregnant pause, Blaine's head tilted to the side. He maintained eye contact and then furrowed his brow,
"I love you." he gushed. Kurt lovingly leaned over the table, bringing Blaine's hand to his lips. After placing a soft kiss on his fingers he responded,
"I know."
Blaine was beginning to get impatient with Kurt, but decided it was best for him to finish his breakfast and get into the shower before they were late for class. He downed the rest of his breakfast by quickly shoveling it into his mouth while walking his dishes back to the sink. Kurt laughed,
"Are you suddenly in a hurry?"
"It's almost seven. I have to get my ass ready or we'll be late for class," he said with his mouth full. Normally he would hate the fact that he ignored his table manners but the only thing he hated more was being late for an engagement. Kurt glanced at his watch and his eyes widened in surprise,
"Oh shit, you're right. You go ahead, I will finish cleaning up."
With a thumbs up, as his mouth was still full of oats, Blaine quickly headed to the bathroom, closing the door abruptly. It wasn't long before Kurt was delighted with the sounds of Blaine singing from the shower. It made him smile. Damn, he loved that man so much.
Even though the weather forecast called for a lovely day, Kurt and Blaine could feel the cool bite of autumn as they exited the apartment. The breeze tickled their faces as they both turned their collars up and made their way toward the subway station. This was always Blaine's favorite time of year. The heat of summer was moving on and the world was starting to slow down. The change in temperature also meant a change in wardrobe. Kurt was always up on the fall fashion and eager to educate Blaine on the newest items that would be hitting the window displays. Blaine considered himself fairly up on fashion, but he always loved to hear Kurt talk about it. His face beamed with excitement and sometimes a grandiose display of expertise. The climate also gave Blaine an excuse to spend more time cuddling up with his lover in an attempt to stay warm. This invitation was always answered with compliance when the two climbed under the covers together.
Thankfully, Blaine had finished his shower in record time, leaving both of them an extra moment to stop by their favorite coffee stand. The quaint but welcoming edifice was located only a couple of blocks from the subway entrance. Not only did this give them a chance to get some caffeine in their systems, but it also allowed them to visit with the very bubbly and flamboyant barista, Ignacio.
"¡Hola, amigos!" the melodic greeting of their favorite coffee connoisseur met their ears as they rounded the corner. Blaine and Kurt returned the greeting with wide eyes and smiles,
"¡Hola, Ignacio!" they said in unison.
Ignacio's dark brown eyes squinted as he leaned back and jokingly placed his hand on his heart,
"Aye, I love it when you both talk at the same time, amigos." he cooed in his thick Puerto Rican accent.
Thankfully, no one was waiting in line at the time. Blaine was able to reach into his pocket and deposit the pre-counted charge for the coffee onto the counter before Ignacio even had it ready.
"Uh oh, maybe we have been living together for too long, huh?" Kurt joked. Blaine playfully smacked his arm and raised his eyebrow defensively. Ignacio had collected the two cups needed to fulfill their order of two plain drip coffees and was filling them up at the spout.
"No such thing, fellas. If you two stop living together, then the world has gone to shit, no?"
As Ignacio finished their order, Blaine felt his phone buzzing from his pocket. With one swift, almost automatic, motion, he removed his phone from his jacket and examined the screen. A new message had come in from Sam. A quick tap of the home button brought up his SMS app.
Gonna be another week with the photoshoot. Will be later than expected. Details later. BLAM!
"Oh, it looks like we will be having the apartment to ourselves for a while longer." Blaine said expectantly to Kurt. With a raised eyebrow, Kurt verbalized his confusion in a half-hearted grunt. Blaine held up his phone for Kurt to see. He watched his lover's facial expression change from puzzled to satisfied.
"Mmmm, Kurt likey."
Over the last few weeks, they had kindly opened up their doors to Sam as transitional housing until he was able to find something for himself. They both loved him, but he had been clearly taking advantage of their kindness. Normally Blaine wouldn't have had an issue with his close friend sharing a home with them, but when his presence got in the way of Klaine time, it was definitely bothersome. They would absolutely be enjoying some more evening playtime this week, much to the expense of their performances in class.
"Okay, amigos, aquí tengo sus cafes." Ignacio lovingly handed the coffees to his two friends and smiled. "What's up first today, boys?" he inquired.
"Movement studies. I think today we are working with a mime. This should be interesting." Blaine looked nervously at Kurt who proceeded to give both of them a preview of what was to come, albeit poorly. Blaine elbowed him, "Are you hating on mimes?" Kurt put his hand up defensively and shook his head,
"No, no, I'm just giving Ignacio a glimpse of the ridiculousness everyone in our class is going to witness when I try to do it myself."
Ignacio shook his finger at him,
"No, amigo. Give yourself more credit. I bet by the time the class is over, you'll be teaching the teacher!"
Kurt and Blaine looked at him lovingly, tilting their heads to the side.
"Awww, Ignacio. What would our lives be without you?"
They both approached the booth, reached out their hands and pulled him into a quick hug, one on each side. They made sure to deposit a peck on the cheek before breaking away with a smile.
"Muua, I love you guys! Have a great day and I will see you tomorrow morning, no?"
Blaine and Kurt proceeded to the subway entrance, waving back at Ignacio. He blew them kisses as they disappeared down the stairs.
Kurt's phone pinged from his pants pocket. A quick glance at the screen and he furrowed his brow and stuck out his bottom lip in a childish pout. Blaine snickered as he took a sip of his coffee, almost making himself choke.
"What?"
"Looks like our Monday night potluck is on the fritz tonight, babe. Artie can't make it." Kurt responded in a whiny voice. Blaine's eyebrows turned down in a frown,
"Aw, why?" he looked over at Kurt's phone, well aware that he was rubbernecking.
Sorry, fellas. I have a busy night tonight with work. Won't make it to potluck. Raincheck?
Now it was Blaine's turn to pout. He watched as Kurt quickly typed in a response, making sure to lay on the guilt nice and thick.
Sure, whatevs. We get that you have found someone way more interesting to hang out with. *wink*
Blaine and I will just cry ourselves to sleep over a bottle of wine...without you. :-P
Blaine chuckled,
"Oh, you are good at guilt trips, babe." Kurt just responded with a playful smirk and a raised eyebrow as he pressed SEND. Within seconds, Artie had retaliated in pure sarcastic fashion,
I guess I am just getting too popular for you guys. You had to know this was coming. Have a glass of wine for me...bitch. ;-)
Kurt and Blaine both chuckled,
"Oh, Artie, you sassy little shit." Blaine laughed. He put his arm around Kurt's as they entered the subway car. They were surprised to find an empty seat near the door, especially on a Monday at 8AM. Normally the two of them would have had to find a small corner of the car and hold onto the bars for dear life. This was all while making sure no one was trying to pick their pockets or their shoulder bags.
"So, Artie is working, Sam is out of town longer for his photoshoots, Santana and Mercedes are in Los Angeles for the foreseeable future and that leaves Rachel. Maybe the potluck is salvageable," Kurt verbalized his thoughts as he pulled out his phone again.
"Nope, Rachel had to take the redeye last night to meet with a producer about a show. Sorry, I forgot to tell you." Blaine interjected. Kurt mockingly appeared to be offended, his hand on his chest and jaw wide open.
"I'm hurt."
"You were asleep when I got the message so I decided I'd tell you this morning. And then..I..forgot." Blaine shrugged. "You looked so beautiful in bed and so peaceful, I didn't want to interrupt." he continued, leaning over and kissing Kurt on the neck. With a childish shimmy of his shoulders, Kurt turned his nose up, leaned over to Blaine and said,
"Nice save."
They rode in silence for a time as the train continued its stop-and-go trek toward NYADA. They had become so accustomed to the morning commute that they often didn't hear the announcements of the stops from the PA. Blaine scanned the other passengers in the car, making sure not to appear like he was staring. This was always one of his favorite parts of the ride. Kurt had told him it was weird, but Blaine was just a people person. He was always fascinated by the notion that there was an infinite number of possible things each of these people could be doing that day. Today was no different. His eyes slowly scanned the inside of the traincar. The woman directly across from them was buried in a NYT crossword puzzle as if her life depended on finishing it before her stop. Every now and then her eyes would gaze at the ceiling as if the answer was printed there. To her right was an older gentleman who looked like a carbon copy of Blaine from high school, but as a grandfather. He would occasionally pull out his pocket watch that was attached to his neatly pressed green vest, glance at the time, and then place it back in his pocket. Blaine was unsure whether he had forgotten what the time was, or he was just displaying some nervous energy. He was definitely going somewhere important. The evidence of this displayed in the effort he had put into his look.
To Blaine's surprise, he came to the realization that someone else in the train car was doing the same thing he was. When they met eyes, it almost startled him. A few seats to the right of the old man, in the opposite corner of the car, sat another man who seemed equally as put together. However, the way he looked back at Blaine made his skin crawl. This man's piercing blue eyes seemed to be picking him apart from the inside out. There was judgement in his gaze that made Blaine almost feel like he was on trial for murder. He took note of the man's carefully pressed dress shirt, long emerald neck tie and dark grey dress pants. He sat with his legs and arms crossed. Even his bright blonde hair and beard were well kept and trimmed. The scrutiny from the man's judging stare made Blaine look away. He turned to Kurt, trying to forget what he had just experienced. Now was the time to continue the conversation that had been abandoned at breakfast,
"Seriously, Kurt. I think we still need to talk about what we saw on the TV this morning." He felt a pang of annoyance as Kurt's head fell back and rested against the window and he rolled his eyes.
"Why are you still dwelling on that?"
Blaine felt like a mother lecturing her spoiled child,
"Well, because I care about you and I want to make sure we are BOTH safe. Does that sound fair, princess?"
After a short pause, Kurt elbowed him in the ribs, making him flinch.
"What do you want us to do about it?"
"I think we should make sure to text each other when we get off work. Since both of us walk home alone, I think it is a good idea that we let the other know of our whereabouts."
Kurt let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes again,
"So, I text you as soon as I leave work every night to let you know I am on the way home. You do the same." Blaine nodded,
"Except on Tuesdays, since your work is on the way home from mine, I will stop and wait for you. I will text you when I leave so you know I am on my way. We can walk together then. Sound good?" he looked at Kurt expectantly. Kurt nodded,
"Yes, so then we can both get kidnapped at the same time." he joked,
"Come on, Kurt, I am serious," Blaine responded, showing he was becoming impatient.
After a moment of silence, Kurt started typing something on his phone. When he didn't respond, Blaine cleared his throat and said,
"Are you ignoring me now?" his phone pinged from his pocket again. He scoffed as he pulled it out to see who was messaging him. "Wait, what the…?" his face changed from stern to confused as he saw Kurt had texted him while sitting right next to him. He looked back at his fiancé with an incredulous expression, "Really?" he chided. When Kurt didn't respond, he looked more closely at the message,
Okay, fine.
Blaine scoffed, humorously as yet another message came in with the cheerful ping,
...bitch.
Blaine looked back at Kurt, mockingly offended. He pulled on Kurt's collar, bringing their faces close together,
"I love it when you're sassy," he said in a whisper. Kurt snickered and pressed his lips softly against Blaine's. He could taste the coffee on Kurt's tongue along with the subtle hint of peppermint from his morning mouthwash. They kissed deeper, not really caring what the people around them thought. Not that it mattered much, anyway, as most everyone was just going about their day and paying them no mind. Everyone except the man in the corner. When they broke from their kiss, Blaine risked a glance up at the man one more time. A look of disgust was printed on his face. His eyes were narrowed and his lips, framed by the bright blonde beard, turned down almost into a frown. Blaine had never felt so emotionally threatened in his life for doing such an innocent thing. He turned his eyes away, relieved when he could focus on something more positive. That being the face of his fiance who sat quietly as the train continued toward NYADA.
Thankfully they only had about four more stops to go, so the display of judgement from the unhappy passenger would not have to be endured much longer. Blaine reached down and interlaced his fingers with Kurt's. They sat this way until finally they came to their stop, stood without letting go of each other's hands and happily exited the train.
As Kurt and Blaine entered their class they were met with the din of what seemed to be an intense conversation. The sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to be a stark contrast to the tension that was filling the room. What normally appeared as a dance studio was now akin to a forum. A large percentage of the group had separated into two teams facing each other. Kurt and Blaine were wondering if perhaps they had accidentally walked into a debate class instead of movement studies. This small crowd was clearly divided on a particular issue as words were shouted back and forth.
They set their bags near the door, as per their normal routine and, sharing a concerned glance, approached their classmates near the center of the dance studio. Kurt approached Garret, a classmate that he and Blaine had befriended when they had both begun at NYADA. He stood absorbed in the conversation, but was careful not to get involved in the cacophony of voices. He turned toward Kurt when he noticed a presence next to him. Immediately his blue eyes lit up and a cheerful, dimpled smile spread across his face. His long, toned arms wrapped around Kurt and pulled him into a tight hug,
"Good morning, beautiful." he beamed. Kurt returned the affection by pulling back just as tightly, pressing his face against Garret's. His classmate's chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail that brushed against his nose as they hugged. When they pulled away, Garret locked eyes with Blaine and gave him a playful lick of his lips,
"Oh, boy, Blaine, you get sexier every day. I am so utterly jealous of Kurt right now."
Blaine blushed as he always did when people complimented him like that. He was always appreciative, but extremely humble at the same time. After a soft giggle, he wrapped his arms around Garret's broad shoulders and was lifted slightly off the floor. Garret wasn't monstrously tall, but he was at least four or five inches above Blaine. He was also very fit, so picking up Blaine was no chore for him. The hug ended with an affectionate exchange of mutual pecks on the cheek.
"I'm sexy? Look at you, Mr. Toned As Hell!" Blaine said, flirtatiously.
Garret scoffed jokingly and shooed at Blaine with a laugh. As the three of them turned back toward the impromptu debate, Kurt asked,
"So, two questions," Garret locked eyes with him in anticipation, "where is Prof Daniels and what in the world is happening right now?"
"Oh, an admin came up about two minutes ago saying he was going to be late. An accident is holding up all traffic on 5th Avenue. Could be half an hour, they said." Garret held his hand out, palm facing up, toward the bickering crowd, "As for this, I think we are debating the crimes that were reported on the news this morning."
"What about it are they debating?" Blaine chimed in.
"As far as I know, because this is going back and forth so fast I am getting dizzy, they are debating whether they would take down these neo-Nazis themselves or let the authorities handle it."
"Oh, so vigilantism. I see," Kurt added, "honestly, if it were me facing these coward Nazi folk, I would fight with everything I have in me. I'm not going down quietly."
Garret looked at him with interest, his eyebrow lifted,
"Really? I find that interesting coming from you." Kurt furrowed his brow,
"Why?"
"I don't mean it as an insult or anything. You just seem less confrontational than that," Garret explained, holding his hands in front of him as if to avoid offending Kurt.
"You're right, I don't like to be too confrontational if I can avoid it, but if it is my life on the line, I'd like to think that I wouldn't just lay down and take it."
"EXACTLY!" a voice bellowed from the crowd of debaters. Kurt was suddenly aware of the silence of the room. As he turned toward the crowd, he noticed that most of the eyes that had been on each other were on him. Some looked at him expectantly, as if agreeing. Others gave him a look of judgement. One of the taller dark haired women of the group approached Kurt with her arms wide open. Kurt wasn't sure what to do as he looked to Garret and Blaine for help. They merely shrugged their shoulders at him with faces full of confusion.
"Exactly...what?" Kurt asked. She stopped next to him, grabbing his arms affectionately.
"You wouldn't just let the Neo-Nazi bastards just hurt you or someone else. You would jump in and stop them?" she reaffirmed.
Kurt paused with his mouth hanging open, unable to articulate an answer.
"Why risk it? Why not just call the cops and let them deal with it?"
This comment from the opposing side ignited something in Kurt. It brought him back to all the times he was pushed up against lockers at McKinley, or thrown in the dumpster, or humiliated in front of the school. All of this happened simply because he was different. All of that pain because the majority was so afraid of change. This was exactly what these cowardly Neo-Nazis were doing. Trying to get rid of what they didn't understand.
"Would I be risking my own safety to stand up to them? Yes. You are totally right that I could be endangering my life," a few of the classmates against vigilantism perked up at this. They paid Kurt close attention as he continued, "But the longer these people go without opposition, the more people will be hurt just for existing. No one has tried to stop them, that's why they feel empowered to continue terrorizing." Kurt could see a few people nodding their heads in agreement. One of the other students lifted a fist in the air in enthusiastic praise.
"Why are you willing to risk your own life though?" the same person asked. Kurt shrugged,
"You ask a very legitimate question. But if my injury or even my death meant that these people were closer to being stopped, it is a worthy sacrifice. I've lived with this for most of my life. I have been shunned, beaten, and humiliated simply because I am attracted to men. Other people should not have to experience what I have experienced. Ever. These assholes need to know that they can't get away with this."
"Yeah, you say that now. In the heat of the moment you wouldn't though." a voice chimed from the congregation. Blaine took offense and stepped forward,
"Hey, what's the big idea…?" Kurt extended his arm in front of his fiancé, met eyes with him and shook his head. Blaine was intrigued by this. This classmate, who barely knew him, had just challenged his sincerity. He looked on with great interest, wondering how Kurt would respond.
Kurt raised his eyebrow pensively and looked toward the floor. Meaningful conversations meant meaningful self-reflection. He wasn't offended at all. In fact, he was glad his classmate brought up the point,
"You make a good argument. I can say whatever I want. It doesn't mean anything, does it?"
The classmate who made the challenge moved forward and, spread his arms out, as if to say, "Exactly, see what I mean?" Kurt moved forward, mustering all of the confidence he could,
"But I can talk about one thing and that's regret. I regret the times I let those assholes in high school treat me like I was less than human. I regret all the times I didn't stand up for a person who was going through the same thing I did. And I can only hope that, if I were faced with these men, I could gather up that regret and turn it into some kind of defense. I won't know unless it happens. But I promise you I am not going down easily."
He received a chorus of cheers from his supporters followed by a round of applause. He felt a friendly smack on his back and turned to his right. Garret was smiling and clapping vigorously trying to get the crowd riled up. Kurt just laughed and waved his hands in front of him, trying to stifle the craziness.
As the applause died down, both Kurt and Blaine assumed that the heated debate was over. They were mistaken. As Blaine stood there admiring the confidence of his fiancé, another voice chimed in from the congregation,
"What about you?"
After a pregnant pause that involved Kurt and Blaine looking at each other and then an expression of utter confusion from Blaine, he asked,
"Me?"
"No, the queen behind you."
He almost felt slapped by that sarcastic remark. Despite the offensiveness of the comment, Blaine kept his cool. He had also had his share of bullying in the short time since he came out.
"You need to be more specific. What exactly are you asking me?"
"Do you agree with your boyfriend? Would you try to stop these Neo-Nazis, be a vigilante?"
Kurt folded his arms in front of him, facing the people who were interrogating his lover. He was feeling a bit protective at the moment, but he was also curious what Blaine would say. When he looked into Blaine's eyes, it was almost as if the man was asking for permission to continue. Kurt just shrugged and held his hand out, as if to coax him to respond.
"I can't say at this moment what I would do" he heard a few people groaning at him. He countered with, "Come on, guys. If you are all completely honest with yourselves, you don't know what you would do either. You can talk your mouth off in this room, but as soon as that gun is pointed at your face, a different person emerges because you are in survival mode. That being said, I do know this," he turned back to Kurt and squeezed his hand affectionately, "I may not know what I'd do for myself, but I would die to save this man if these cowards threatened his life."
Before anyone could argue or agree with Blaine, the tardy professor walked over the threshold and stopped dead in his tracks. His appearance was disheveled, revealing the heightened level of stress he had recently experienced. His eyes searched the room as he examined the faces of his students both in frustration and confusion.
"Do I dare ask what is going on?" he quipped. A few people chuckled, loosening the tension. Professor Daniels removed his shoulder bag and his fancy leather jacket. He deposited them on the wall hook behind him, reserved specifically for faculty.
"I need everyone in formation facing the east wall, and make it snappy!" he ordered both sternly and enthusiastically.
Kurt and Blaine hadn't moved since Blaine had made his comment. Kurt tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. He was searching Blaine for answers. Was he serious? Had he meant what he said? He could only assess that, since Blaine's gaze had not faltered in the slightest, he held his opinion steadfast. In a return of affection, Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist and pulled him closer to his body. They walked over to the mass of students facing the east wall. Just when Kurt didn't think Blaine could surprise him any more, the man went and did a back flip.
Kurt's nostrils were overwhelmed by the aroma of hazelnut as he and Blaine entered the Everyday Cafe about a block east of where class was held. The smell had interrupted his ruminations of what had occurred only a couple hours prior. The entire debate had come as a surprise to both of them. Kurt and Blaine had had a blind assumption that most of the people who matriculated at NYADA followed similar moral and political pursuits. The conversation they had just witnessed had definitely corrected this bias. It seemed as though the class was cut down the middle as to who thought it right to participate in vigilantism and who did not.
One thing was picking at Kurt's brain. The comments his boyfriend had made at the very beginning of class made him feel proud and concerned at the same time. He knew they both loved each other dearly. He also knew that they would protect one another fiercely. However, hearing Blaine speak so confidently about his own demise and his being willing to trade his life to save Kurt's brought a pang of guilt to his heart.
"I've got this, you go sit down," Blaine stroked the taller man's arm lovingly while the two were approaching the order counter. Kurt returned the gesture with a wink and headed to their corner booth. The two had frequented this place enough that they had established an unofficial spot all their own. There, they could hold a conversation in confidence while still having access to the world outside. The large picture window at the front of the cafe allowed plenty of light to enter the establishment. The four booths lining the front of the place all had equal ownership of this window. Blaine and Kurt often found themselves sitting together, chatting and people watching during their two hour lunch breaks.
Within minutes, Blaine appeared next to the booth with a plastic numbered placard in his hand. After placing it at the edge of the table, he removed his jacket and shuffled into the seat across from Kurt. His partner just watched him deliberately, taking in every movement, every facial expression. Kurt had held the assumption that he had memorized this man's every mannerism. What he had witnessed in class asserted that Blaine had much more beneath the surface that Kurt had yet to discover. It did not worry him. It only made him love Blaine more. The statement he had made in class would be the theme of today's conversation.
Blaine felt the warmth of his fiance's hand in his own. He paused for a moment, looking down at their hands, and then up into Kurt's eyes. There was a mysterious, and almost mischievous, smile printed on his lips.
"What?"
"Did you mean it?"
Blaine was confused and he searched Kurt's face for hints. Kurt had a way of making him guess, but Blaine had no idea where this was going. He paused for a moment and then grabbed the plastic placard,
"Did I mean it when I said 'I got this'? Well, I would say so. The fact that I came back with this means you just weren't paying attention, sweetheart." he finished his statement with a chuckle. Then he saw the stern expression on Kurt's face.
"You would die for me?"
The smile faded from Blaine's face. Why was Kurt asking him about this? Was his word not enough? Did he have a reason not to trust it? He thought that once he had said it in class, that would be the end of it. He leaned in and sighed heavily,
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. I guess, saying you'll die for me just seemed a bit extreme, don't you think?"
Blaine nodded, "Well, yeah, it is extreme. But I meant it. I'm kind of surprised that you are doubting it."
Kurt shook his head and placed his hand on top of their interlaced fingers, squeezing them tightly. He spoke firmly,
"No, I am not doubting it. I just didn't think I would be…" his words trailed off as he looked down hesitantly. Blaine knitted his brow. When Kurt spent too much time hesitating, he reached over the table and, placing his hand under Kurt's chin, moved his head up to look at him.
"You would be what?"
Kurt chuckled and wiped the tear that was creeping down his face,
"I didn't think I would be worth it."
Blaine's eyes showed overwhelming sympathy for his betrothed as he tilted his head to the side. He whimpered slightly and then it was he who squeezed Kurt's hand.
"How could you even think that? Of course you are worth it. You're the love of my life, Kurt, and if I have the opportunity to save you, I am going to take it."
"Yeah, you say that, but I wouldn't blame you if, should the occasion present itself, you were to change your mind. I don't expect this from you. I hope you know that."
Blaine let go of Kurt's hand and grabbed his face. His eyes were serious now, not sympathetic or playful.
"I mean it. No joking."
Kurt put his hands over Blaine's and caressed them lovingly. He leaned into one of Blaine's hands with his cheek and smiled,
"Well, let's just hope you never have to make that choice." With that, he removed Blaine's hands from his face and placed a soft kiss on each one. With perfect timing, the waitress brought their salads and placed them gently on the table in front of them. She then deposited two iced teas and, thanking them, removed the plastic placard and walked away. It seemed that, for now, this conversation had reached its culmination.
They each lifted their glasses, made a quick toast and smiled at one another. It was time to move on to happier things.
The sun had crept below the horizon well before Blaine entered the apartment. Kurt had received his check-in text message about fifteen minutes prior saying he was on his way home. He crossed the threshold carrying more tension than usual in his shoulders as he shrugged off his jacket in frustration. Kurt stood at the stove preparing the evening meal, and looked up at Blaine with concern in his face,
"What's wrong with you?"
Not long after Blaine had arrived in New York, he knew he had to find a job to help contribute to the monthly rent. While being paid as a Broadway actor was in his future, the chances of him landing a role so soon was slim to none. He looked instead at the music store not far from Kurt's workplace called Mosh Pit. Not only did he love his boss and his coworkers, but he felt that he actually had some expertise to offer to their patrons. Music came to him easily, and he also reveled in sharing his enthusiasm for instruments. He was proficient in piano, guitar, drums and violin and lovingly discussed options with aspiring musicians who visited the store. His boss, Andy, had told him that, while he would be proud of him if he made it to Broadway, he didn't know how the store could function without him. "You can take your time 'making it'," he had said. Customers often came back asking for him personally, having remembered a pleasant experience shopping under his guidance. Usually Blaine's experiences at work were positive. The hours sometimes felt long, but his passion often outweighed any of the inconveniences of his job. Today, however, the job had not lived up to the hype.
Blaine slumped onto the couch and let out a heavy sigh. Kurt was beginning to worry at this point. Even when things annoyed him, he often lit up by the time he got back home.
"Some asshole came into the store today and berated me and my coworkers." Kurt made a sound of disgust,
"Ugh, that sucks. I always hate it when people are nasty. Mind telling me what happened?"
Blaine sighed again and then sat up straight. He looked at Kurt scowled,
"Did I tell you about the guy on the train this morning?"
"Oh, that guy that was angry we were kissing?" Kurt responded, reminding him that they had discussed this at lunch.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Well, he decided to come to the store today and just start yelling for no reason. Andy had to kick his ass out because he was scaring the other customers."
The only sound in the apartment was that of the vegetables sauteing on the stove-top. Kurt stood waiting patiently for the rest of the story. Blaine didn't stop with a vague explanation of anything. There was no way he was finished relaying the events of his shift. He stood from the couch and sauntered toward the kitchen table.
"I was tuning one of the guitars on display when I noticed him walk in. At first I thought I was seeing things, but then he walked right up to me. And I asked him what I could do for him, and if he wanted to try out the guitars." He sat in one of the chairs and, stretching his hands across the table gave out a groan of satisfaction.
"So, what happened after that?" Kurt urged him to continue.
"Well, he sort of just stood there staring at me for a while. When he didn't respond after what seemed like forever, another person approached me and asked me a question. And that is when this guy just lost it."
Kurt raised an eyebrow,
"Lost it?"
"I mean he just screamed at this other guy saying 'NO, HE'S HELPING ME RIGHT NOW SO GO AWAY!' And I was just trying to diffuse the situation, but it just made it worse. The other customer just backed away in shock. I tried to apologize to him, but he said not to worry. Andy ended up having to get involved."
"What did he end up doing?" Kurt picked up the pan from the stove-top and tossed the veggies about, making sure they were evenly coated in olive oil before carefully placing it back on the flame.
"He just told the guy to leave. Eventually he did in a huff," Blaine looked off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular. He appeared to be daydreaming when Kurt interrupted him,
"Well, you're home now, so you can help me by setting the table, gorgeous."
Blaine shook himself out of his stupor and then stood from the table. He walked over to the cupboard and pulled out two plates and two glasses. As he made his way back to the table and was setting them down, his phone sang from his back pocket. The screen lit up as he tapped on the notification from his news app. The most recent headline popped up, reading:
NEO-NAZI HATE CRIMES REPORTED NEAR BUSHWICK NEIGHBORHOOD.
His heart began to race as he glanced at the image accompanying the article. The same symbol that had been displayed during the morning newscast of the fist surrounded by the chains and the iron cross had been spray painted on one of the shops in the Bushwick area. From the decorations surrounding the graffiti, Blaine recognized it as a bookstore about several blocks east of his workplace in the Liberty Park area. He didn't say anything at first and didn't want to alarm his fiancé, but Kurt's curiosity got the better of him,
"What's it say?" he inquired. Blaine approached him and showed him the article on his phone screen. Kurt didn't react to it and just continued preparing their meal.
"I'm glad we have our safety system set in place. I hope the text I sent you put you at ease," Blaine remarked, putting his phone back in his pocket. Kurt nodded,
"Well, my dear, I have to admit. I am glad we decided to start doing that. Especially since these bastards seem to be moving closer to us. It would devastate me if something…" Kurt stopped what he was saying when he noticed a strange look on his lover's face. He appeared to be ruminating on something, as if trying to solve a puzzle, "what's wrong?"
"Now that I think about it, this guy that came in tonight had a very thick German accent. And he was HUGE. I mean, he had to be at least six foot four. Even if I had wanted to get physical with him, he would have ripped me to shreds."
Kurt nodded, but was confused,
"What does he have to do with the hate crimes?"
Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulder, pulling him closer,
"You're going to think this is crazy, but, I am starting to wonder if maybe he was one of the gang members. I mean, he hated watching us kiss and then he targeted me at my work."
Kurt groaned,
"Oh, Lord, Blaine. Just because this guy has a German accent doesn't mean he is a Neo-Nazi. I mean, just think about how much of a melting pot New York is. There are so many people who could possibly be part of this gang. Don't jump to conclusions just yet. You may never see him again."
Blaine nodded and squeezed Kurt's shoulder affectionately. He didn't seem convinced at first. Kurt leaned in closer and placed a kiss on his lover's cheek,
"Come help me consume this amazing masterpiece of a meal."
They both giggled and made their way to the table. Kurt placed the pan on a hot pad and then walked back to the stove to collect the bowl of rice. Blaine served a generous portion of vegetables to himself and Kurt while the other proceeded to fill both of their glasses with iced tea. As they both lifted their first forkfuls to their mouths, they took solace in the silence of the apartment and the pleasure of each other's company.
Outside the safety of the apartment, someone else's intentions did not match those of the loving couple. Under the shadow of night, he crept between the night crowds of Bushwick, going unnoticed. The patrons of the nearby bars and shops saw nothing out of the ordinary as he walked by. They did not see what was actually a man who was stalking. he was a wolf out for his prey. He was looking for a poor, vulnerable soul. He was looking for the next victim.
