Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
AN: There is a light, very vague smut. This is your warning.
CHAPTER FIVE
BLAINE
It wasn't until the money mysteriously appeared in his bank account and Kurt asked what bus ticket he'd bought that Blaine remembered their plans to travel home for Thanksgiving. Minus Jesse who could have cared less about the holiday, the entire group had decided to keep each other company on the trip back since neither could really afford plane tickets. Of course, that had been a few months ago when Blaine and Rachel were on good terms, or any terms at all. The truth was, anything involving Rachel was unbearably awkward to think about and he couldn't imagine how an hours long bus ride with her would be any better, even with Kurt there to act as a buffer. Try as he might, Blaine couldn't think of any believable reason to renege on their plans, simply saying to Kurt he had been waiting for him and Rachel to make the decision.
Later he would find it ironic how it was Rachel who became his saving grace, but when Kurt picked up the phone and immediately called her, Blaine was in a blind panic. Her bright and cheery voice as she said "hello" was a sting on his skin; he silently begged Kurt to take it off speaker but the other boy merely brushed him aside with a wave of his hand.
"What do you mean you're not coming?" Kurt asked out of concern and Blaine found himself listening in despite the rolling waves in his stomach.
"Opening night is barely two weeks away," Rachel explained quickly, "and while my dad prepares a beautiful vegan alternative and papa's pie is to die for, I can't justify missing four days of rehearsals to celebrate a holiday that, quite frankly, has little appeal to me anyway. They'll understand."
"You love Thanksgiving," Kurt insisted. "You spent the last three years at my place helping Carol perfect your cranberry and walnut stuffing and you know how much my dad loves that. Besides, Finn has been chomping at the bit to see you. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's about to propose again."
"You might be half right," Rachel laughed.
"Rachel Berry, what do you know and what aren't you telling me?" Kurt demanded, a playful smile tugging at his lips as Rachel continued to giggle from her end of the conversation. Blaine listened to them gossip about Finn's serious, stable girlfriend of almost one year; Rachel jokingly wondered if he'd recycle the ring she'd given back to him after their failed relationship while Kurt insisted that even Finn wasn't that dense. Nostalgia washed over Blaine as they spoke, a twinge of longing for a time when he used to be perfectly content just listening to them; before he had messed everything up, before he made strangers out of the people he cared about.
He couldn't quite shake the feeling either as it still lingered when he and Kurt boarded the mostly empty bus to Ohio. He searched out a spot in the back, stretching out over several vacant seats and leaned against the window, arms crossed over his chest and tried to focus on the music blaring through his headphones. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think, or even appear to exist for the next nine hours but it was difficult to ignore the awkward and hurt looks Kurt kept shooting him over his shoulder from his camp a few rows ahead of him. It became even harder when the glances turned concerned and worried until Kurt finally gave in after their first scheduled stop. He sat one row in front of Blaine, turned backwards in the seat and gazed at him over the back.
Reading Kurt's lips as they formed the words "are you okay?", Blaine didn't bother to take the headphones out of his ears, still intent on ignoring the world. He knew it was petty and he knew that Kurt would take it personally, but Blaine just didn't have it in him to smile and pretend. The question formed on Kurt's lips again and he tried to ignore it once more, but found it extremely difficult as Kurt leaned over the seat and yanked the headphones away from Blaine.
"I don't care if you lie to me Blaine Anderson, but answer me right now," Kurt demanded, tangling the loose cord in his fist. Blaine remained silent; the only act of acknowledgment he gave was the heated glare in Kurt direction, who merely rolled his eyes and said, "that look didn't work on me when we dated, it's not going to work now."
"Can you just leave me alone?" Blaine sighed, shifting in his seat so that he was half turned away from Kurt.
"What's wrong?" Kurt pressed and the empathy in his voice was enough for Blaine to feel a little bit guilty for snubbing him thus far. "Are you sick? Or is this about seeing your dad because I'm sure it's not going to be as bad as you think it is. He did send you the money for the ticket after all."
"It's not anything," Blaine whispered, avoiding Kurt's eye.
"I know we're not the best of friends and I'm not Rachel but-"
"We're friends," Blaine interrupted, if only so that Kurt didn't continue to bring up Rachel's name. There was no telling where that path would lead and he was in no position to travel it with Kurt. It was exhausting just thinking about how careful he would have to be with his words, not letting on that he'd ever seen Rachel as more than a platonic friend, and he knew that if he started talking about her with Kurt, he would crack. Part of him felt like it was time to do so, to just let it all fall out and pick up the pieces where ever they ended up but as badly as he needed a release, he knew it would just end up hurting more in the end. If he confessed everything now, he might end up in New York without any friends left at all.
And Kurt had more than proved himself to be a friend over the past few months. It was definitely time to stop punishing him for sins of the past, especially when Blaine's own were being added into the mix. He wasn't at all blind to the effort that Kurt had put into renewing their relationship and here he was, reaching out once again when it would be much easier to let him go. The thought made him smile, that someone still wanted him, even if it made him feel like a selfish asshole for feeling even remotely happy about it. But it was something and that was better than the nothing he'd been lost in lately.
"We are friends," Blaine repeated, facing Kurt as he said it, "and you're right, it's my dad."
"You're sure?" Kurt said skeptically, his smile a little strained.
"It's just been a bad week for me already," Blaine admitted, knowing how vague it sounded, "and I get to finish it off with the Andersons and a holiday. You know how that goes."
"I know we can make a place for you at our house," Kurt said by way of invitation and a genuine smile graced Blaine's face.
"Thanks," Blaine replied with a short, low chuckle. "I'll keep you in mind."
"Just let me know," Kurt grinned and Blaine extended his arm to clap Kurt on the shoulder, noticing the way Kurt leaned into it. It was familiar, comforting even, and his darker feelings started to slowly ebb away. He nodded when Kurt suggested they could play cards, happy for the distraction and pleasantly surprised to find how much easily he could fall into enjoying Kurt's company. It was becoming easier and easier and when they finally rolled the bus into Ohio, he was sincerely saddened to have to say goodbye.
His good mood seemed to go with Kurt, fading away with every awkward moment he spent greeting his parents and every shallow conversation they attempted to have. It was gone completely by the time his brother Cooper had called to say he couldn't make Thanksgiving dinner, effectively rendering Blaine alone as the rest of the guest list was composed of company men and business prospects his parents would spend the day entertaining. He would have loved nothing more than to escape to the Hudson-Hummel household as Kurt had suggested, but his father insisted he stay and help him to maintain his appearance as a family man.
"What's the point?" he had asked his mother the night before, head in her lap as she stroked his hair; a rare comfort, but one he desperately needed. "He hasn't exactly been supportive of me lately."
"That's not true sweetie," his mother said gently. "He was there for you last year, remember? And just a month ago, he found a bunch of your old prom photos hidden away in one of your boxes in the attic. I came home and he had hung them all up in the foyer, including the ones of you and Kurt. They're still there, too," she said, beaming with pride. "I know it can be confusing for you when your father has a hard time showing it, but he is always, without fail, on your side. Especially if you can't see it right away."
His mother had said similar things to him over the years, but Blaine had never really believed her, unable to see the proof. As he stared dumbfounded at the collage of photos displayed proudly in the center of the wall, her truth finally started to sink in. There were pictures of him jumping on Mike's back, dancing with Brittany and Santana, helping Quinn carry a tray of drinks to the group's table, but most importantly, right there in the middle, the biggest photograph of them all, was of him and Kurt. They were grinning from ear to ear, looking blatantly like a couple with their arms wrapped tightly around one another in coordinating suits of Kurt's design. Blaine remembered how his father fussed about the extra cost, but also how he paid for it all in the end. Little moments like that began springing up in his mind, scattered across memories that he used to recall in bitterness, only to find him now with a hesitant smile.
It was for this reason alone that he stayed for the better part of the holiday party, waiting to excuse himself at least an hour after dinner. "Call me if you need anything," his father said as he handed Blaine the car keys. "Thank you for staying son. I'm proud of you."
"You too Dad," Blaine said with a wide smile as he gathered his coat. His father gazed at him sheepishly, a light blush dusting his temple. Blaine could feel his own blush creep up on him, in the same place. "I love you."
"Go on," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Get out of here. Enjoy the rest of the day away from us boring old gluttons."
Blaine didn't really have a set destination as he drove through the nearly empty streets. He knew Kurt and his family would be more than welcoming if he were to stop by, but he found himself wandering aimlessly in the opposite direction as he sang along with the radio. All the familiar landmarks passed by him – his old friends' houses, William McKinley High School, The Lima Bean a little further away, and the road to Dalton even farther than that – but he didn't feel the desire to stop and it was then he realized that his restless and nostalgic feelings weren't for Ohio, but for New York, He missed the city, the lights, the energy; he missed the people he knew and the person he was when he was there.
But since he couldn't very well drive to New York in his father's car, he did eventually stop at a tiny family-run coffee shop he and Wes had found a few years ago that prided itself on being open every day of the year. A kind elderly woman brewed a fresh pot of French roast for him while her niece offered Blaine a slice of homemade pie left over from their dinner. He accepted both, assuring them that it was more than enough as they disappeared back into the kitchen. He made his way towards the corner table he knew was hidden behind their dessert counter, nearly dropping everything in surprise to find that there was already someone there; a girl sat on the padded bench with her laced-up boot clad feet propped up in the table, leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her blonde hair fell in short waves around her oval face, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Her full lips parted and she spoke in a familiar smoky voice: "Babe Anderson, fancy meeting you here."
He tried to keep a straight face and fight back the laugh that threatened to bubble over. "I believe this is my table miss," he answered back, the corners of his lip betraying him as they curved into a smile.
"I do believe my name is on it, sir," she replied in the same fashion, pointing to a paper place-mat where she had clearly doodled her name in bold, curving letters surrounded by a series of hearts: Michelle.
"And so it is," Blaine laughed, sitting down across the table from her. "Is there room for me?"
"There's always room for you babe," she laughed, scrawling his name next to where he'd set down his coffee before jumping up and sliding into his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as his own circled her waist. She pulled back slightly and stared at him with a thoughtful expression; studying him was more accurate, he supposed, as he was doing the same to her. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, falling only to her shoulder instead of her waist, but it was the same beach blonde it had always been. She still managed to have a light tan even in the beginnings of the winter months, her blue eyes striking in contrast. Her smile still lit up the room, drawing him to her like a magnet and with just a simple giggle, he felt lighter and happier than he had in weeks. She hadn't changed, it seemed, and somehow that was the most comforting thing in the world.
"You look amazing," she finally said, still on his lap.
"As always, you look incredible Michelle," he answered, weaving a hand through her short locks and tugging briefly on the ends. "I like your haircut."
She fixed him with a withering glare. "You haven't seen me in months and you want to talk about my hair?"
"I was trying to make casual conversation, Michelle," Blaine replied, ducking quickly to avoid the hand he knew was aimed towards his head. He successfully avoided her slap – which had never hurt, even when she put effort into them – but forgot about her propensity to kick him whenever she was annoyed. Her boots dug into his shin and he yelped in surprise.
"Screw casual conversation Blaine," she scoffed, sliding off his lap and returning to her side of the table as he rubbed the offended spot on his leg. "I want to hear about New York and you're not allowed to leave anything out."
He found it incredibly easy to tell her about the city; the things he loved, the things he hated, the things he already missed versus the things he missed here in Ohio. She poised all the right questions and genuinely seemed to enjoy his ramblings. It was one of the many things he's initially liked about Michelle when he'd met her last year. She had the ability to listen, really listen, to what he had to say, and thought they were interesting. When they differed, she never brushed his opinions aside, but rather listened to him and then explained why she didn't agree. Michelle made him feel important, back then when they had dated, and even now after being gone from each other for so long.
She really had been an amazing, unbelievable person to come into his life. His entire existence had been built around the notion that he liked boys and it was fear of losing that self-identity that kept him from being honest about his occasional interest in girls. She wasn't the first he'd had them for but she was the first to fully bring them out of him. She pushed him to come to terms with parts of himself that he'd always been afraid to address, not just his sexuality, but his need to conform, to please others before himself, to run away when life got hard. Michelle and his relationship with her, whether romantic or platonic, was one of the biggest reasons he was who he was. He might still be changing and maybe he'd never fully figure it out, but he was a better person because of her influence, and for that, he loved her. If he never saw her again after his evening, he would walk away knowing that.
"But you're going back to school next semester right?" Michelle prompted as he finished telling her about his suspension and current living situation, armed with many questions about Jesse.
"I have to go to a hearing about that at the first of the year," Blaine answered, sipping his cold coffee as he had forgotten about it during their conversation, "but I think it'll be okay. A few of the guys who saw the fight said they'd talk to the board on my behalf. I'll probably be on probation for a little while, but they'll let me back in. I hope so anyway."
"God, but Kurt really gets under your skin," Michelle said with a shake of her head. "He's still not fighting his own fights I see."
"Seth was coming after me, not Kurt," Blaine said, perhaps a little too defensively as Michelle raised her arms in surrender and leaned back into her seat away from him.
"I know, I know," she said quickly, "but you said yourself you probably wouldn't have done anything if he hadn't started in on Kurt. I get it babe, he was your first boyfriend, your first love, your first dick in your ass, whatever. But unless he's your boyfriend, I don't understand why you feel like you need to protect him all the time."
"He's a friend, and if you don't stand up for your friends, why bother having them in the first place?" Blaine challenged.
"You would do the same for me? Or this Jesse guy?" was her rebuttal. "You wouldn't because you know that we could handle it ourselves."
"I'd do it for Rachel," he supplied.
"Yes well, Rachel's quite the exception, isn't she?" Michelle smirked, her eyes lifted with a satire of innocence.
"What makes you say that?" he asked warily as she made a show of shrugging her shoulders before heaving a deep, affected sigh.
"From what you've told me about her – which was probably more information than I ever needed to know about someone I've never met – Rachel can more than handle herself," Michelle began, "and you like that about her, but there's a lot of things you like about her. Now for whatever reason, you've let yourself get sucked back into Kurt Hummel's vortex, though you're not sleeping with him yet and I know you're not into Jesse because you don't talk about him with stars in your eyes so someone is holding you back from being with Kurt. And babe, I love you, but you're not strong enough to keep yourself away from him. So simple math tells me there's more to Rachel than you're telling me."
"You're deducing my love life with math?" he tried to distract her, knowing it was in vain.
"Well, that and the stars in your eyes," she grinned triumphantly.
His head dropped to the table with a loud thud and his arms moved to cross behind his neck. "Am I really that obvious?" he groaned, more to himself than to Michelle, wondering why he and Rachel had put so much effort into hiding the nature of their relationship if old friends could figure it out just by looking at them. Jesse had done it and now Michelle and considering how much strain keeping the secret had caused, it all seemed pointless to him now. Losing Rachel over a secret that neither of them had really kept, it was so stupid. He was stupid; stupid for punishing her for it, for pushing her away, and for what he couldn't even say anymore.
It wasn't until he felt Michelle's hand rubbing circles into his back that he realized he'd been talking the whole time, spilling his emotional guts to his ex-girlfriend and suddenly he could understand why Rachel was so quick to give into Jesse; at least she had someone to talk to about all of this. He was on the verge of frustrated tears, confused and upset, and so tired of trying to keep it all inside.
"It's all my fault," he admitted as he told her about their break-up that couldn't really be called a break-up, " and I just don't know what to do Michelle. She hasn't talked to me since that night and I can't even think of her without getting irrationally angry or wallowing in self-pity."
"Babe, I am so sorry," she whispered in his hear as she hugged him tightly. "I had no idea, I just though you had a crush."
"I don't know what I had because we never talked about it," he said, the words digging deep into his soul, piercing as he forced the truth to come out. "We were lying to ourselves, saying it was casual. There was too much going on for it to be casual and why do I do this to myself? I get involved in something and I start to drown and I can't breathe. So I pretend it's not important, or that it's not as bad as it feels, or that I'm okay with the way things are and I'm not. I'm not and I can't get out of it. And I can't get Kurt out of my head either and I know there's no moving forward with anything until I figure them both out, but I can't figure Rachel out until I figure Kurt out and figuring Kurt out means that Rachel gets pushed aside, and I-"
"Babe, stop," Michelle interrupted, clasping a hand over his mouth. "Breathe. Stop talking. Listen." She waited until he nodded, not bothering to move her hand as she spoke. "I will never pretend to understand the hold that Kurt has over you, but you convinced yourself to use him as a reason to hide from a very real relationship you could have had with Rachel. Neither of you wanted to hurt his feelings, but the exact instant you felt yourself getting serious with Rachel, you both should have come clean with Kurt. His approval doesn't even matter, but you let it matter.
"This is exactly what happened with you and me," she said sadly, her hand moving to trace his jaw. "We were never meant to be a forever kind of deal, I know that. But we could have had so much longer if you didn't make Kurt a part of our relationship. Because it doesn't work like that; if you're going to be with Rachel – with anyone at all – it has to be you and Rachel and not you, Rachel, and Kurt. Kurt only matters if you're dating Kurt."
"I can't just leave him behind," Blaine argued.
"He did that to you Blaine!" she yelled, no longer bothering to be gently with him as she held his chin in such a way that forced him to keep staring at her. "He went to New York and the second he found something new, he left you in the dust. You owe him nothing. Keeping him in your life, that's your choice and your choices, my dear, are still centered around him. So ask yourself, why and what do you want out of it?"
"What do I want out of it?" he repeated, the question foreign to his ears.
"You, Blaine," she stressed. "You have to be about you, or everything will continue to fall apart around you and you are too beautiful, too amazing, too kind to let other people in this world destroy you. Don't you dare let that happen to you. Stand up. Stop fighting other people's battles and fight some of your own. Start with Rachel, start with Kurt, but start somewhere."
"What if I don't know how to do that?" he whispered helplessly.
"You know how," Michelle insisted, voice sweet and low in his ear. "You just can't do it all at once babe. That's when you start to drown, as you said. Just take it one step at a time and call me anytime you feel like you need a rescue team."
"Team implies more than one person," he chuckled.
"I'm already more than you can handle," she laughed, patting his cheek lovingly.
He left the cafe feeling like some of the weight had been lifted off him and, in a way, he supposed it had as he now had someone willing to help him carry it. He still had no idea how to move forward, only that he knew he needed to because Michelle was right; it was up to him to decide what he wanted to come out of the mess he'd made. Kurt was the harder question and the one he was starting to understand needed a real answer. But he didn't feel in danger of losing Kurt the way he was losing Rachel and the only thing he was truly clear on was that he wasn't willing to compromise his friendship with her anymore. If keeping her in his life meant going back to being just friends, truly and just that, then he could force himself to do it. He just had to convince her to do the same.
As he passed through the foyer of his home, the photo collage of his prom jumped out at him again and he instantly knew what he needed. He had less than a day to find the box, but he would search all night if he had to, just as long as he found what he knew would still be in there. It had to be; his first step forward hinged on it.
-:-
RACHEL
She hadn't been lying when she told Kurt that it was better for her to skip Thanksgiving in favor of putting in extra rehearsals. Most of the cast – aside from some of the student parts – were staying over the holiday and putting in workshop days. They literally worked from seven in the morning until well after the sun set, thought it was kind of a revolving door as some people left and others came in. What she had lied about however, was how much she really wanted to go. She missed her dads and after the fall out with Blaine, she just wanted to curl up in their arms and find something that felt like home again.
But with the exception of that first night, Rachel had been able to keep her emotions in check as she poured herself into classroom assignments and play rehearsals and it was this odd sense of pride that kept her from breaking down and crying in the privacy of her apartment. Her frantic energy kept her from dwelling on Blaine, but if she actually saw him, looked into his eyes without knowing what she might find there, she wasn't positive she could keep up her carefully constructed walls. It was irritating on one hand because she'd sworn off sobbing over boys and heartache after her split with Finn, but she knew this would have to be an exception. She'd let herself fall further than she was prepared for, convinced it was okay because it was her best friend, because Blaine would never let her heart break again.
She knew she'd done the right thing by pulling back, but she still felt, if not heart broken, a little bit cracked. It pained her even more to think Blaine could be feeling the same way and if his avoidance of her was any indication, he was. Not that she had made much of an effort to see him either. The phrase "clean break" floated through her mind and each time, it made her angry that a part of her could even consider Blaine was something she had to break away from.
"It's okay to miss him," Jesse said Thanksgiving evening as she turned in a slow circle on stage, trying to catch her breath. "It's part of the mourning process."
"He didn't die, Jesse," she snapped, walking back to center stage and planting her feet in the opening position of the choreography. She didn't ask how he knew - didn't care really - since he always seemed to know everything regardless if she told him or not. All she wanted was focus and direction. She wanted to not be her for a little while and he was wasting her opportunity to do so by bringing up her failed relationship with Blaine. Not that he should even care, he wasn't a fan of it to begin with. "Watch my blocking for me."
"Your blocking is perfect," he replied even has he corrected her hip placement with the flat of his palm on her waist. "You're acting like he did."
She shook her head and spun away from his touch, letting her body lead her in a dance she knew as second nature by now. She could vaguely make out Jesse calling her back. "Listen to me." Left foot down, right leg arched. She wouldn't do this. "Rachel. Stop." Back stretched, arms curled. She wouldn't let him distract her. "Quit pushing so hard". In. Out. Leap. Blaine wasn't here. Jesse didn't matter. "You're hurting yourself." Brace the ankle, fold, dive. It wasn't his voice screaming in her head. Half turn, up again. Don't fall. Don't get hurt. Don't put your heart on the line. Don't let it sneak away from you. Don't.
She hit the floor hard and it wasn't so much the pain that stopped her from getting up but the sudden, jarring sense that everything had gone wrong. Everything. It was supposed to be in her control. She was supposed to be able to handle it. She was done being wrong and stupid and making all the same mistakes. She was right now, it was all supposed to be right and easy and it just wasn't and how could she be expected to keep up if everything ran away from her.
"Damn it Rachel," Jesse whispered as he sat down on the stage next to where she had fallen. He gently pried her injured wrist away from her chest, nimble fingers sussing out the damage. It was barely a sprain, but the pain wasn't coming from her hand. It was overwhelming and suddenly too much and she doubled over in shame as all the tears she'd fought so hard against escaped. Jesse wrapped his arms around her in comfort, but that only seemed to make things worse as the tears fell even faster, her breathe dissolving into dry gasping heaves.
"I don't know what I did!" she choked, burying her face into Jesse's shoulder. "I don't understand. I don't. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to feel like this."
He let her cry, folding her into his lap and rocking her back and forth, whispering a million words that she couldn't even pretend to understand until she finally calmed down enough to realize the theater had completely emptied save the pair of them. She was still shaking a little, her frazzled nerves doing her no favors, but at least she didn't feel like she was going to fall apart. Jesse was like an anchor at that moment, holding her in place so she didn't drift away and an overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over her.
She had meant to hug him, to say thank you, to apologize for ruining his shirt, but somehow her hands ended up in his hair, pushing his wavy bangs back from his eyes. They lingered, running lightly along the edge of his jaw, moving across his cheekbone, tracing the shape of his lips. His eyes closed momentarily and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his. It wasn't anything more than that, no searching and begging, no tongue, no teeth. Just heat and the pure need for a physical touch, she knew that immediately, but she couldn't convince herself to stop.
It was Jesse who pulled away, silent as he turned his head from her. His eyes were still closed but the rest of him wasn't nearly as relaxed. If he hadn't been sitting on the floor with her in his lap, she would have sworn he was poised to run. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him this time, and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered and he gulped, a knot in his throat. "I know I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."
"Why did you?" he asked in a heavy voice.
"Because I miss him," she responded truthfully even though she knew it might hurt him, but she was too exhausted to hide the real reasons behind a mask of kindness.
"Good," Jesse finally said, the word unexpected. She unwrapped herself from his embrace just enough to be able to look him in the face. She expected the sadness she found, but it was the glimmer of happiness underneath his guarded expression that surprised her. It wasn't malicious or mocking, just a hint of a smile playing at his lips, the crinkled corners to his eyes. "You kissed me and I liked it," he said in what she took to be an explanation. "Just don't do it again unless it's really me you're kissing."
She could only nod in silent agreement as he helped her stand up. They locked up the theater and his walked her home. She had half a mind to ask him to come upstairs with her, but she knew it wouldn't really be him she was asking to stay over and with her promise to him fresh in her mind, she was determined to keep it. She wasn't going to ruin another relationship just because she was lonely and needy and given her particular history already with Jesse, she wasn't sure they would survive another go around like that. But he was intact now and she wasn't quite there yet herself.
She would be okay though, she thought. She could already feel herself piecing back together; her breaking down seemed to have done some good at least. It still hurt, but like the pain in her wrist, it would pass. The things that were meant to be fixed would be and the things that were meant to be left behind, those would fall away. She just had to wait and see where the remaining pieces would land.
-:-
Kurt called her as soon as he made it back into town Sunday afternoon, warning her that he probably wouldn't make it to their classes the next day as Finn had brought home a nasty cold with him for the holiday. She doted over him, offering to bring him soup and her Streisand collection, but he declined in favor of crawling into his bed to die. She couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics, her heart lighter now that she didn't feel constantly guilty for keeping secrets from him. Still, she listened carefully for any mention of Blaine, who still hadn't contacted her at all, but apart from their shared bus ride, it didn't sound like the two boys had spent any of of the break together.
She didn't want to feel relief over this, and it was selfish and awful, but it did a good deal for her piece of mind to know that Blaine had spent his holiday alone like she had. It seemed easier to potentially fix their broken relationship if Blaine were single than if he had come back to New York once again involved with Kurt. And that's what she was going to do after all, fix them. If he wanted to. If he even still cared. It was all the ifs that had started keeping her up again at night and as she hung up with Kurt, she vowed she would find Blaine the next day and force him to talk to her.
She should be used to her plans not working out, but it was still a shock to open the door later that evening to what looked like, on first impression, a walking tower of take out boxes and shopping bags that turned out to be an overly energetic Blaine. He tried to say something in greeting, but with a bag between his teeth, she couldn't really make it out. All she knew was that he was grinning and his eyes were bright and it was directed towards her for the first time in what seemed like years. It was wonderful and infectious and she knew before the words "I'm sorry" ever made it past his lips that she would forgive him anything.
"What is all this?" she asked, taking the bag from his mouth and setting it on the counter as he did the same.
"Everything you've ever liked that I could remember," he said, quickly taking several items out of the bags, naming them off as he put them on display in front of her. She managed to spot a batch of vegan muffins – apple cinnamon crumble – and several packets of gold star stickers before they were covered up by a new copy of My Fair Lady to replace the one she'd lost last month. Eventually, the bags emptied and with a flourish, Blaine took out the last box, prying the top off as he announced, "and if you haven't had dinner yet, I got that spicy mexi-cali rice and bean mix from the diner."
"This is all very sweet Blaine," she said with a smile, trying to keep her happiness from overtaking her common sense, "but what is it for?"
"I'm a jackass," he said with a shrug and started throwing the bags into her recycling bin. "I really messed things up, again, and I didn't think a simple apology was going to make up for all that I did. So, this is me, buying your affection."
She chuckled, rolling her eyes as she started to remove the plastic wrapping from her new movie. "The apology would have done just fine," she said, "but I do like gifts."
"I want to show you something," he said suddenly as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. From the back, he slipped out what looked to be nothing more than a scrap of slightly battered paper until he flipped it around and suddenly she was staring at her own smiling face.
She remembered the moment well; it had been her senior year, his junior, and prom had actually turned out to be fun that year. She'd been snapping pictures all night and it wasn't until they were leaving for Puck's house that Blaine forced the camera around on her. She'd tried to shy away, insisting that she only wanted pictures of other people, of memories, when he'd stretched his arm out and kissed her on the cheek, the flash going off at just the right moment. It had been her favorite of the night, and the first thing she recalled about her senior prom.
"I know what happened between us was my fault. I hurt you and that is the last thing I ever want to do. You were right to stop it when you did, but these people are friends," he stated, pointing to the photo as he sat down next to her. "We might be a few years older, but we're still those people where it counts. So let's just go back to that."
"Can we?" She asked hopefully.
"Yes," he insisted, "and it starts tonight, if you want it to."
"Stay," she grinned, passing him a fork and nudging her dinner towards him. "I'm sorry too," she said as he took his first bite, knowing it was the only chance she had to say anything before he took all the blame on himself. "I let things that had nothing to do with us get between us and then I used them against you."
He simply nodded, and leaned over quickly before she had a chance to pull away, kissing her check and covering the spot with his palm. She tried to think of the last time he'd done that to her and left it at just that corny, friendly gesture. It had been entirely too long, but having it happen now, so naturally was the greatest feeling in the world. This was a testament to who they were together, their friendship, and that was all she needed to from him to move forward. They weren't irreparable after all.
They ended up staying up all night until he finally fell asleep on her couch. She slept in and missed her morning classes, only leaving when Blaine finally roused and declared he had to go to work. They'd repeated this routine a few times over the previous months but as he left her apartment, she knew this would be the last time. He wouldn't stay the night any longer, she wouldn't put off starting her morning just to let him sleep a little longer. This truly was an ending, but it didn't hurt as much as it had before. Knowing that her greatest fear of ruining all she had with him had passed, she could breathe a little easier.
-:-
December came quickly and Cabaret opened without a hitch, Blaine and Kurt in the third row roaring with appreciation by the final curtain call. She had run backstage and practically tackled Jesse to the ground after taking her bows and listened to him gush about how incredible she had been. She was floating on air as her cast mates, the dean of the school, even Professor Rosenbaum who she's been so sure hated her came by to congratulate her. As she walked home alone in the early hours of dawn, she knew it was one of the greatest nights of her life. She didn't need anything more than a song, a stage, and an audience; it was nice to be reminded of it occasionally.
Rebuilding her friendship with Blaine came simpler to her after this as she stopped worrying about if they would fall back into old habits. She did have to admit that things were different, that sleeping together had changed them in ways she was blinded to until after they'd stopped. He would start to say things and suddenly stop to change the subject or refuse to continue all together. She caught herself doing the same thing. They talked about almost everything, but Kurt and Jesse were off-limits unless it was a casual conversation. Real feelings and discussions didn't happen and any time one of them tried to breach the subject, they would lapse into an awkward silence. She missed being so candid with Blaine, but she also knew she couldn't push the issue on him, especially if she herself wasn't quite ready to deal with it herself. After all, that was one of the things that wrecked their previous relationship and she'd be damned if she made the same mistake with him again.
The thing they had managed to talk about and agree upon was that there was no point in telling Kurt about them now. It was over, done with, and he would only want to sort through the details they didn't have. She could hear his voice in her head as he demanded she tell him exactly how she felt about Blaine, what they had done, for how long, how she could keep this from him knowing how he still felt about his ex. He would be right to ask those questions and she felt guilty all over again for hiding the truth from him, but she could only see it hurting him. Especially since, as Christmas began it's rapid approach, Kurt had grown melancholic and reserved.
"I'm not a pathetic single," he said sadly during science lab on day, "but I was out shopping for Carol yesterday and I saw this fabulous Rag & Bone cardigan in the window of Barney's. All I could think of was how beautiful it would look on Blaine and how I couldn't buy it for him because we're not a couple anymore."
"Well it's just a sweater," Rachel said kindly, her heart twisting in her chest as Kurt's frown deepened still. "It could be considered a friendly gift."
"We're not three hundred dollars for Christmas friends," Kurt argued with a shake of his head. "We're fifty dollar friends, maybe, as long as it's not too personal or too thought about."
"I thought you were okay with just being friends though," and she wasn't sure what kind of answer she hoped to hear even as she said it, but it was increasingly important to her to be a supportive friend to make up for effectively lying to Kurt for months and this was the only way she knew how to do it.
"I am," he said too quickly to be believable. "I was. I don't know anymore really. It was easy to convince myself that being his friend was enough when he was never around. I can't tell if I'm just losing my mind and imagining it or if this is really happening, but I ever since Thanksgiving, I feel like he's everywhere. All I know is at some point, it stopped being easy and I have a hard time letting him go. "
According to Jesse, Kurt wasn't imagining things at all. When he used to assume that Blaine had disappeared to see Rachel, he was now going to see Kurt. His nights started getting longer and longer, though he had so far always come home. Alone, Jesse was sure to point out to her and she caught him once or twice watching her for a reaction. She couldn't be sure what he read in her expression; she was happy that Blaine was going on with his life, but she wasn't sure how she felt if he was going on about it with Kurt. It just seemed sudden to her, though she knew that wasn't true.
Suddenly everything Kurt had said to her began to make sense. It was harder to just be Blaine's friend if she couldn't let go of him and she could see how Kurt might feel so lost with him around. It was hard enough for Rachel and she felt like she and Blaine had at least tried to talk things through after they fell apart. Kurt never had that, and if she were honest, neither had Blaine. They were both so frightened of the subject and of what it might bring up. Blaine had been so adamant that he wanted to keep Kurt at arm's length, but Kurt had worked towards a friendship and it had been the best thing for both of them, she was convinced. Except Kurt was still hurting over all that was left unsaid.
"How have things been with you and Kurt?" she asked Blaine one night, indulging herself the small pleasure of playing with the ends of his hair as he laid his head in her lap and stretched out on her couch.
He didn't answer right away and she could hear his breath hitching in his chest. "They're okay," he eventually whispered and even without looking at him, she could tell he had more to say. So she pressed him for more information, slipping in little hints wherever she could, anything to get him to open up to her. Finally, with a sigh, he said, "They're getting a little confusing. I feel like he's expecting more and more from me when we hang out."
"Like out of your relationship?" she asked, more for his benefit than her own since she knew Kurt's intentions.
He nodded then, with a groan, sat up and hid his face behind his hands. "I'm sorry," was his muffled response. "It's not fair to talk to you about this."
"I don't mind," Rachel said, a false smile on her face. "Kurt's a hard person to cut out of your life. I wouldn't blame you if you were starting to have feelings for him again."
"What if I'm not though?" Blaine asked thoughtfully, guilt clouding his features as he seemed to stare past her wall at something only he could see. "Or maybe I am, but what if they're not good enough for Kurt? What if he's still more involved in me than I am in him? Would that be fair to him; or to me? And what if I'm just lonely and Kurt is available and I hurt us both when I realize this?"
"Maybe that's why you should take a chance on it," she suggested as enthusiastically as she could, which judging by the look of pure disbelief Blaine sent in her direction, wasn't nearly as convincing as she hoped it would be. "Please don't misunderstand me, I don't want you do to anything you don't want to do but would it really be so bad to try things again with Kurt? At least maybe you'll be able to answer some of those questions you both have and finally get a little closure."
"Where is this coming from?" Blaine whispered, the skepticism in his voice apparent. He scooted closer to her on the couch, their knees less than an inch away from touching, and she didn't know what to say. She would be lying if she told him she had no ulterior motives – she wanted Kurt to find some peace so she could stop feeling so guilty and even more selfishly, she wanted her own answers to Blaine's questions – but she didn't know how to respond without dragging their own history into it. "Is that what you want?" he asked, eyes searching her own.
"I want you to not be confused anymore," she admitted as much, though she could see in his changing expression that he detected there was more to her answer. But she wouldn't say it. It wasn't important anymore. "I just want you to be happy."
"You think Kurt will make me happy?" he asked with a pointed, almost daring look.
"I don't know," she said, "but neither do you."
-:-
It was the last week of school before Christmas break started when Kurt announced that Blaine had decided to stay in New York for the holiday. Rachel had been so wrapped up in studying for finals and making arrangements to visit her dads for Hanukkah that she hadn't bothered to ask either of them what their plans were. She had assumed that they would all go back together, like the plan had been for Thanksgiving before she backed out.
"It's his first Christmas in the city, he said," Kurt explained in a whisper as they studied in their library for their respective literature tests. "He wants to stay and do all the touristy things like see the lights at Lincoln Center and the tree at Rockefeller. He wants to go ice skating on Thursday, like we can't do that in Lima."
"It's hardly the same thing," she giggled.
"It's so cliche though," Kurt laughed. "I mean, he's been here since the end of June, you think he'd be used to it all by now."
"I think it's sweet," she said, automatically jumping to Blaine's defense. "He still finds the city exciting and I recall you saying almost the exact same thing last week."
"Yes, but I was being ironic when I said it," Kurt smirked with a roll of his eyes. "Blaine is actually genuinely looking forward to this; he even asked me to go with him. Of course, I told him no but-."
"Why wouldn't you?" Rachel asked, trying to keep her voice steady even as her mind reeled. Blaine hadn't said anything to her about any of them; hadn't asked her if she wanted to join them, implied that he might want some company. She felt blindsided, betrayed in a way, even though she knew she'd practically forced this on herself.
"Because I don't want to go ice skating," Kurt remarked as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She knew she should just let it go, let Kurt waste an opportunity to see Blaine even if she would never do the same, let Blaine use it as just another reason to keep Kurt at arm's length. But she remembered Blaine's frenzied confusion and Kurt's hidden sadness and she couldn't leave it alone, however much a part of her wanted to.
"Use it as an excuse to wear a new scarf," she coaxed, "or those new skinny jeans you go the other day at-"
"I don't want to go!" Kurt shouted at her, causing her to jump in her seat. Her sympathy seemed to vanish, evaporate into a boiling anger. All she was trying to do was help. It wasn't her fault he was insecure with his relationship with Blaine – even if sometimes she felt like it was – and he had no right to take it out on her. She gathered her books and stuffed them in her bag, not bothering to retrieve the notes that fluttered to the floor as she stood up.
"Blaine wants you to go," she said heatedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "and Kurt? He didn't ask me."
She didn't bother to look back at her friend as she stormed out the library doors into the cold December air. She was done, she decided, trying to coddle them. It was stupid of her to try and put them together in the first place. If they were meant to be, they could do it themselves and if that didn't happen, well then so be it. Juggling three love lives was exhausting and she was just done with it all. Done.
-:-
BLAINE
Blaine tied up his skates, tucking the ends of his jeans into the shoe before he double-knotted the laces. It would be harder to take them off later, but after Cooper had broken his arm tripping on loose strings when he was fifteen, Blaine still wasn't taking any chances with them. Especially since he had ended up coming to Rockefeller Center alone, he didn't want a bunch of strangers hovering over him if something more embarrassing than falling on his ass happened. It had been a few years since he'd actually gone ice skating, but it only took him about half-way around the rink to find his rhythm and his mind started wandering almost immediately after.
He'd come back from Lima after Thanksgiving feeling very optimistic and after Rachel seemed to welcome him with open arms, having missed him as much as he missed her, he thought they were back on the friendship track. He couldn't help his mind from wondering if they could try for more, but do it the right way the second time around, but then she started to close down on him. Not much, and only a little bit at a time, but it was enough to make a difference and he didn't know what he could do to change it. So he let it happen, hoping that at some point they could figure it out.
Michelle thought it important to remind him that ignoring their issues was what caused him to lose Rachel in the first place and she encouraged him to press the matter. So he tried, willed her to open up to him and tell him what she really wanted from him, but it backfired on him in a way he hadn't really been prepared for. Instead of talking about them, she practically shoved him into Kurt's arms. It had hurt, a lot, listening to her explain that he should give Kurt a second look all in the name of closure.
It wasn't that she was completely wrong in her reasoning, but hearing it come so easily from her somehow made him feel like he'd been replaced in her life already. It hadn't even been a full month; he was still sorting through the aftermath but she had moved on no problem. It was petty, maybe, but he couldn't help but wonder how much she had really been invested in them if she could shake him off so easily.
People who really mattered in your life, they stuck to you, so maybe she was right in that way or maybe she could see something he couldn't when it came to Kurt. Because it had been over a year for them, but Blaine certainly still felt stuck to Kurt. It wasn't always pleasant, or easy, but it was always there. Lately, it had been good. He could see the boy he'd originally fell in love, though a little more mature and refined and it brought a smile to his face late at night when he thought of him. His stomach had flipped a little bit when he asked Kurt to go skating with him, only to plummet even further when he'd declined.
Which only made things worse, in Blaine's opinion. He'd put himself out there, twice, for two different people, and neither of them had reciprocated, for whatever reasons they had. He couldn't think of where he'd gone so wrong and the questions were slowly driving him insane. They had been for months, if he were honest, and all he wanted were some real answers. It was up to him to find them, he knew that, but he couldn't do it all on his own. Not when it came to Rachel, but especially not when it came to Kurt because he suspected, now more than ever, that the older boy had all the same questions.
"Blaine!" His head snapped up and he momentarily lost his balance, gripping the wall for support as he looked around for the source of the noise.
He saw the scarf – long and bright red – before he actually saw the rest of Kurt break through the crowd, breathing fast and face pink from the cold. He nearly ran into a pair of twins and spun out of the way, stumbling against the wall. Blaine hurried forwards, catching Kurt by the waist before he fell on the ice and brought them both to a safe, balanced stop.
"Oh my God, you are really fast on those," Kurt said in short breaths, motioning to his skates.
"Cooper and I used to race," Blaine explained. "What are you doing here?"
"I was hoping you still needed a skating partner," he grinned, pulling his hat down to cover his ears that were turning a violent shade of crimson. Blaine gave him a questioning look, Kurt's face falling momentarily before he took another deep breath. Blaine could see that he was trying to steady himself and stayed quiet as Kurt spoke once more. "I should have agreed to come in the first place. I said no because I was scared but I don't want to give you another reason to push me away. Unless I'm too late."
A breathy laugh escaped him and he knew it sounded harsh and condescending, like he was mocking Kurt. But it was just the opposite; this was what Blaine had been waiting for. This was the moment he needed to take even the tiniest step forward. It was relief that caused him to laugh. "You're just in time," Blaine finally said with a ridiculously wide smile, taking Kurt's gloved hand in his own.
Kurt was the first one to grow tired, having never really skated the way Blaine had and begged to sit down with a gallon of coffee, if possible. Blaine took pity on the boy and after battling the knots in his skates, they found the nearest Starbucks to thaw out. Kurt looked the happiest Blaine had seen him in a long time and even he had to admit, he was having a good time as well. They trifled through small talk for a little while, Kurt becoming more and more animated as his skin returned to it's normal glow.
"Can I be blunt?" Kurt blurted out after he finished telling him about his English final. Blaine had his suspicions about what Kurt might say, but waved his hand in encouragement nonetheless. "I want to be more than friends with you. I just need to know if there's a shot of us having that or if my New Year's resolution needs to be to get over Blaine Anderson."
"We cannot just pick up from last year," Blaine answered, surprised at how easily it seemed to come to him as if it had always been ready on the tip of his tongue without his knowledge. Kurt blanched and opened his mouth but Blaine spoke faster before he could interrupt. "We're not starting over because you really hurt me Kurt. If this is going to even have a chance of working this time around, we have to work on it."
He'd never seen anyone's eyes light up as fast as Kurt's did in that moment. "I'll let you be as needy and jealous and insecure as you need to be," he promised as his smile grew with each passing second.
"I'm not done yet," Blaine said seriously and he fought to keep his voice steady. This was the most important part; if Kurt couldn't agree to this, there would be no way to go forward. He had to understand. "I have think I have feelings for you, but they're not the same as they used to be and I can't and won't guarantee they ever will be again."
Kurt became unreadable in that moment, his face falling into a perfect blank page. "That's hard for me to accept," he said quietly and Blaine could see that he was warring with himself. Slowly, a tiny smile fluttered across his face and he whispered, "If you don't rule it out, can I still be in love with you?"
"I can't tell you what to feel Kurt," Blaine said, returning his smile in similar fashion, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
"And I can't make you feel anything you don't," Kurt reasoned, nodding his head, eyes shining with their previous light and Blaine couldn't help but let some of Kurt's enthusiasm seep into him as well.
"As long as we're on the same page," Blaine laughed and when Kurt reached to hold his hand, he didn't pull away.
-:-
He should have known he would end up here, climbing ten flights of stairs and knocking on her apartment door at eleven o'clock at night. This is where he always ended up; it was a like a magnet somehow, pulling him towards her but she deserved to know and no amount of common sense or convincing himself otherwise would let him leave it until morning. She needed to hear it from him, but more than that, he needed to tell her himself. He needed to air it all out in front of her.
Rachel answered the door and he could tell Kurt had beaten him to the punch. Maybe he'd called her when Blaine left him at the front of his dorm building, maybe he'd texted her, but either way she knew. "I wanted to tell you first," he said as she let him into her apartment. "I tried to tell you first."
"Is this what you want?" she asked, voice hollow and unmoving. It frightened him to hear her so devoid of emotion; she felt everything so deeply and this was worse than when she would actually cry.
He nodded slowly, letting the answer settle on his shoulders, feeling the weight of it add to everything he felt for her. "I feel like I'm saying goodbye to you."
"Remember what I told you that first night?" she whispered, sitting in the couch and hugging her knees. "I will not help you cheat on your boyfriend."
"I would never ask you to," Blaine agreed, moving to stand in front of her as she rested her head on her folded legs, looking up at him. "Things are complicated enough and I know I made them that way. I just need to hear you say you're okay with this because I don't think I can do this if you're not."
"Of course I'm okay with it Blaine," Rachel replied, still in that dead, monotone voice. "We're just friends."
"We are so past that Rachel," Blaine exclaimed, falling to his knees in front of her, his palms flat against her warm skin. She shivered a little under his touch and he leaned his forehead into her skin. "We are so much more than that and I'm sorry I let it fall apart, but I feel like we could have been everything."
"I know," she sighed, her voice quivering and he closed his eyes in relief as the emotion flooded back into her voice. "We could have but it's done now. I am glad for you," she said, lifting his head to look at her, a sad smile on her face, "that you have Kurt again, but selfishly, I'm going to miss you."
"I have to do this," he whispered, cradling her face between his hands, brushing the loose hair away from her eyes, "but I don't feel like it's over between us. There's so much we didn't say."
"And there's no point in saying them now," she said, cutting him off. "We can't or we'll never find any kind of closure to all this."
It was his desperation that led him to do it. His desperation to be heard, to be felt, to be understood and he rocked up on his heels to pull her lips to his, pouring everything he could into kissing her. Everything he needed to say that she wouldn't let him, everything he needed to stop feeling, the last of what he ever dreamed they could be. Because he would never get another chance and she was right, there was no point in putting it all to words. As long as he could have this moment to point to and say he tried, he could live with that.
"Blaine," she pulled away, cheeks flushed and rosy, her fingers tracing the dips in his collarbone.
"It's about closure, right?" his whisper deep even to his own ears. "Stay here with me, just tonight. Please. Just one last night."
"Kurt," she said feebly and he shook his head.
"Tomorrow," he pleaded, locking his hand behind her neck, keeping her as close to him as he could while she was still folded into a ball on her couch. He couldn't say anything else, didn't have the strength to do so until she finally relaxed, her arms reaching to rest on his shoulders. Her legs unfolded, one on either side of him and suddenly he was afraid to move lest he scare her off. He felt her move over him, lips brushing his hairline, tender at his temple, moving along his jaw, forcing his head up once again. She held him in place with one finger crooked under his chin.
"Why tomorrow?" was all she said, her gaze demanding as it held his own.
He could have said it then – he wondered if she wanted him to say it then – but the words stuck painfully to the back of his throat. Instead, three very different words came out. "You know why," he choked before her lips came crashing down on his.
Her legs hooked around his waist as he stood up and carried them to her bed, slipping her shirt off before they fell back onto the mattress. Her hands were under his, pushing it further and further up his torso until he had to pull away to take his off. As he did, she unbuckled his belt, kissing his hipbones and slid his jeans past his knees so he could step out of them. Her pants followed suit until they both wore nothing more than skin as he pressed her down into the comforter. Their hands flew everywhere, grasping and digging, desperate to feel everything one last time; every scar, every subtle flaw ,every secret spot. To memorize the way their bodies felt again each other, to feel the heat and the chills and the bolts of lightening up their spines. It would be the last time they could lose themselves in each other and even as he pushed inside her, even as his name fell from her lips in a deep moan, he knew it wouldn't be enough. She would always call to him, always own a part of him that no one else would be able to get to.
They did everything they could to make it last until it was like a slow burn coming down because as soon as they did, it would really be over. No going back, no going forward, just over and all they would have left would be the memory of it. Morning would come and they would move on, their futures already decided. But they could have this at least, this last night where he'd found his answer and at least something had all made sense in the end. He could go on knowing that everything he believed it to be in his heart had been real. She had felt it too and all that was left was to find a way to leave it behind.
AN2: Seriously, I know I say this all the time, but thank you for reading even when I take a month to update.
I write, you read, you review, and I write more. I promise.