This is the longest chapter I've written thus far! It moves pretty fast, and I don't want to keep you waiting. The song Blaine sings is Superman by Moi, so just add the normal YouTube link to the front of /watch?v=N59bmpRHOA4 if you want to listen to it :)
"I didn't mean to—I didn't want to—" the curly haired boy stammered, looking up a little bit to see Kurt rising from the bed, sheets rustling. His eyes were rimmed with tears and his hair was perfectly messy.
"Do what?" Kurt asked as sternly as he could, his voice cracking.
"G-Get my thermos," Blaine replied weakly, looking down at the ground.
Kurt crossed his arms, "How do I know it's your thermos...and who are you anyways?"
Blaine's eyes stayed transfixed on the carpet. He hadn't exactly thought that through.
"I'm, um, Andrew, and I uh, left this on a bench outside and I uh—"
"How do you even know where I live?" Kurt asked, approaching him somewhat gently. It felt weird to respond to another name, but if he had said his name was Blaine, everything would be ruined.
"I followed you up here from the center square," he mumbled. Kurt's eyes filled with tears.
"C-Can you actually look at me when you talk?" he chirped, extending a hand to Blaine's face. He had been staring at Kurt's carpet for 99% of the conversation, so he slowly rose his head to it met Kurt's hand. The brown and blue eyes met, Blaine's heart skipped a beat or two, his hood falling off to expose the hobbit hair. Kurt's hand cupped his cheek, everything feeling right in the world.
"I-I need to clean," Kurt sighed, dropping his hand, the moment ending.
"I can help you," Blaine piped up. The blue eyes widened.
"Andrew, we just met."
"Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."
Kurt wasn't used to being flirted with. He didn't really talk much to anyone, let alone flirt. But the more he talked to Bl-, er, Andrew, the more he liked him.
"Surely you can't stay here all by yourself," Blaine said, throwing a clean blanket over the back of the couch in the small living area.
"I feel like I have to," Kurt replied, running his finger down the kitchen countertop.
"Stay with me," Blaine's words flew out of his mouth faster than they should have.
"W-What?"
"If you don't want to, you don't have to. I live like, two blocks away. I need some company, and you do, too."
Kurt pondered the thought. Staying alone in an apartment complex or staying at a stranger's house. Both seemed risky, but twenty minutes later, he was packing up skin care products, clothes, and his schoolbag, just for a week, to stay with this boy who was in the right place at the right time. This was the nicest Blaine was to anyone, and it felt good. When he was with Kurt, it felt like he was supposed to be with him opposed to Quinn. He carried most of Kurt's bags, Kurt rattling on about school and what things he was involved in.
"I'm actually in glee club," he said, playing with the strap on his bag as they walked.
"Oh, really?" Blaine seemed fascinated, "I take that as you sing?"
"And play piano," Kurt smiled, tilting his head to look at Blaine.
"Really? Me too!" Blaine exclaimed, looking right into those bright blue eyes. It wasn't a lie, he had played piano since age five, and his mother taught him everything he knew.
"For how long?" Kurt was fascinated.
"12 years I wanna say?"
"Since age three," he winked, the two turning a corner. Not too long after that, they reached the Anderson residence.
"Home sweet home," Blaine sighed, turning the doorknob and pushing the door inward.
Somehow, the two ended up watching a movie on Netflix in the huge, white living room. Kurt was curled up in Mr. Anderson's old, white chair while Blaine was on the couch, his hand drowning in the popcorn bowl.
"I'd love to hear you play sometime," Kurt peeped from the chair. Blaine looked up from the TV.
"Pway whaft?" he replied, his mouth stuffed with popcorn.
"Piano!" he exclaimed, gesturing with his head in the direction of the black baby grand piano in the dining area. Blaine swallowed the mush in his mouth and sat up on the couch.
"Right now?" he smirked, getting up and grabbing Kurt's wrist, dragging him to the piano. Blaine flicked on a light in the room making it a little bit brighter, but romantically dark. The two boys sat on the piano bench, Blaine's fingers resting on the keys and Kurt's tangled in his own lap. Blaine played a few notes, the music sounding like twinkles from stars, if stars could make a noise. He then opened his mouth and began to sing.
"On a sweet Sunday morning fourteen years ago
I was only fifteen
Now I'm reminiscing
I broke into a million pieces each piece a thousand creases
A memory in my heart looking up at the stars"
Kurt let out a long breath as the boy next to him continued, his fingers flying over the keys so gracefully. He played beautifully.
"Cause what goes up must come down
And what's coming down is coming down fast"
Blaine didn't know why he picked this song. It just...happened. Quinn always liked this song when it came on the radio in her car, and she'd smile instantly. After so many times of hearing it, Blaine knew the words and notes down pat. He finished the song and turned to Kurt on the bench.
"Andrew," Kurt said, his voice cracking a bit. They faced each other on the bench, inches away from each other's faces. If Blaine wanted to, he could just lean forward and kiss him, which is what he had wanted to do since the homecoming dance, almost two months ago. His head spun, all he had to do was lean forward.
"Stop," Kurt said, their noses brushing against each other, their lips an inch or two apart.
"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy," Blaine whined softly.
"W-We should wait. Just...I really want to kiss you but—"
"Then why don't we just get to it then?" the curly haired boy breathed, leaning again. Kurt pushed himself backwards, putting his hand firmly on Blaine's chest, and falling backwards onto the floor. One boy ended up on the floor, the other the edge of the bench.
"Kurt, I'm so sorry," Blaine said, extending his hand for Kurt to take.
"No, no, no, I'm fine," Kurt said, "It's not a big deal. I fell off of a freaking bench, Andrew. Just a bench, not a cliff." He stood up, brushing the nonexistent dirt off of his pants. "I just want to go to bed. Alone."
Kurt's new bedroom was one of the many guest rooms in the Anderson household. They stopped outside of the door, a question pondering Blaine's thoughts.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure?"
Blaine sucked the inside of his cheek and figured out how he would form the sentence. "D-Do you think I'm...ugly?"
The blue eyes studied him for a moment. "I've seen worse." He swiftly opened the bedroom door and shut it, leaving Blaine in the hallway.
I've seen worse.
Did this make sense at all? haha, Blaine is Andrew because he doesn't want Kurt to know who he really is just yet, and Andrew sounds close to Anderson. Next chapter'll be up any time next week, and I'll be on break, so I can update a lot.