Blaine had tried to stay focused in classes that afternoon but was only semi-successful. One of the downsides of having signed up for so many classes that Kurt shared this semester was he couldn't put him out of his mind during class when there was stuff going on between them. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid; it was embarrassing to be caught like that. He wished he'd just admitted it all when he'd first had a chance.
Kurt gave him a kiss on the cheek goodbye as they parted ways in front of NYADA, never mentioning the reveal of his indiscretions earlier. There was nothing to talk about, Blaine supposed. He'd been caught and he'd be punished for it later, that much was understood. He glanced back at Kurt, hurrying off towards the uptown train entrance. He just wished something he had thought of something, anything to say that would have made Kurt feel less disappointed in him. Or that he'd just punish him now so it'd be over with. He'd still wish he hadn't done it, he figured, but after he was finished there was a sense of having a clean slate that provided a certain kind of relief, even if it came with a sore backside. The more he thought about waiting days and days for Kurt to pronounce his sentence, the more nervous and guilty he felt about the whole thing. He realized he wasn't used to having to wait to be disciplined; Kurt usually handled these things as soon as he found out, or shortly after when there was more privacy available. In Lima that had been easy a lot of the time because they carpooled together so much, and when they'd been living together at the loft it had never been a thought. I guess this is something I'll just have to get used to now.
Blaine texted Rachel, having no other outlet to share his misery with. It was ironic to him that he wanted to tell her, when there was a time not long ago when the notion of anyone ever knowing would have been horrifying. When she had first found out about Kurt and Blaine's disciplinary arrangement, Blaine thought he'd never live down the embarrassment. That was before Rachel had asked for her own arrangement with Kurt as well. It took him at least a week after that to even comfortably look her in the eye again. He never would have imagined back then that someday Kurt would be providing this service to her too, and that this would be something they would share. But now that they had both seen each other punished several times, he had to admit that it was a comfort to know at least there was someone out there who'd sympathize. They had both sought discipline because they thought it helped them meet their larger personal and professional goals on some level—but there were lots of times they both found it unpleasant and it turned out that commiserating could be soothing. Kurt usually provided reassurances after a punishment and was generally forgiving, but there was something nice about having Rachel to vent to. More often than not Rachel was bolder at breaking rules than Blaine was, so a part of him knew that most times she'd say he hadn't done anything wrong or that it wasn't any big deal even if he was pretty sure it was. But some days it was nice to hear her say so anyway.
Blaine dragged his feet home, moody and still in his sweats from classes. When he got home he went to the kitchen to prepare himself a snack. He opened the refrigerator and looked down at himself, making a face at the frumpy curve of his t-shirt. He straightened it out, and stood up a little taller, trying to pull his abs in. All this working out would be a lot easier if I was seeing more results. He sighed and took a yogurt from the refrigerator and settling down at the table to start his theatre history homework, actually grateful for the distraction from feeling sorry for himself.
He was disrupted about an hour later by his phone, annoyingly beeping a notification to do his abs workout. Blaine made a face. I should have done it first thing when I got home, ugh. He turned off the notification and checked his other messages. There was a text from Mercedes, reminding him and Sam to stay away from the leftovers she had in the fridge. And one from Sam, asking him if he could bring his basket of laundry, currently sitting on the coffee table up to his room. They're clean, bro, I swear. Blaine smiled, thinking he must be asking because he didn't want a lecture from Mercedes when she got home. In the loft, covering for each other's chores had been a highly dicey game. Rachel was always asking and Blaine was usually unsure about agreeing lest Kurt disapprove. Kurt didn't like Rachel taking advantage of Blaine, even if Blaine (usually) said he didn't mind. With Sam, Blaine was a little better at saying no, to a point. Mercedes had given them both a good deal on rent and put up with a lot from her roommates sometimes, so on occasion Blaine would just agree to cover for him on the grounds that keeping Mercedes happy was good for everybody. He texted back, Sure bro.
He looked at the time, figuring both Mercedes and Sam would probably be home soon. He grabbed the basket and headed towards the stairs when his phone vibrated again. It was Kurt.
You home? Did your homework?
Blaine straightened up. Kurt didn't always check on him like that and he figured he was making a point about how trustworthy he was given recent events.
Yes sir. Wasn't too bad tonight. Just finished that Chekhov play.
Blaine wondered if Kurt was going to say that he should be thinking about what he'd done then, maybe ground him from tv or something. He remembered once Rachel wasn't allowed to watch her reality tv shows for a couple days when she first came back from her out of town tryouts. "You can use the extra free time to consider your choices, young lady," Kurt had said. He figured Kurt would be none to happy this week if he spent his time playing a lot of video games with Sam or something. He texted again.
And I haven't done my abs workout yet but going to in a few minutes. Just wanted you to know I'm not just watching Netflix now or anything. I'm sorry again about this weekend. I'm going to try to be more responsible and I want you to be able to trust me, and I know I screwed up with that this time.
Blaine made a face as soon as the message sent. He was never sure if the words he'd chosen were the right ones. He's probably walking out of his break at the diner and might not even see the message for a bit anyway.
He picked up the laundry basket and headed up the stairs, when the doorbell rang. He wondered who it could be, since both Mercedes and Sam had keys and they hardly knew their neighbors. Maybe someone's canvassing for some politician? He left the basket at the top of the stairs, went back down and opened the door.
It was Kurt.