Kurt Hummel
Kurt trotted up the concrete stairwell, wrinkling his nose disdainfully at the smell of piss that seemed to hover permanently in this building. He wriggled his key in the front door, giving it the necessary moment to unjam before slipping into his (much fresher smelling) apartment and announcing "I'm home!"
Blaine poked his head out of the bathroom, shaving foam still covering half of his chin. "Good day at rehearsals?" he enquired, returning to his shave. Kurt kicked off his loafers and leant against the door frame of the bathroom, watching his boyfriend.
"Well, as 'good' as a day in that sweat drenched pit ever is." Kurt sniffed, turning on his heel and flopping melodramatically on to the sofa. Blaine wiped the last of the cream off his face, rolling his eyes slightly.
He joined Kurt on the couch. "Was Claude still being irritating?"
"Ugh," the skinny man groaned dramatically. "You have no idea Blaine, you're so lucky to work with civilised people."
"Yes, there does tend to be something of a difference between the behaviour of actors and counsellors." Blaine murmured.
Kurt, however, was not really listening; he sat up to face his boyfriend, preparing to tell his story.
"We were doing a dress rehearsal today – well, I say that, more like we were supposed to be doing a dress rehearsal. All that actually turned up to the theatre was the leotards. Oh God!" Kurt moaned theatrically, waving his hands around exaggeratedly as he recounted his day.
"So, we wriggle into these leotards and leggings and of course, I had no problems! You remember the private rendition of Single Ladies I gave you that time?" Kurt grinned, Blaine laughed at the memory.
"Claude, on the other hand, well – let's just say I saw a lot more of him than I had ever, ever wanted to. But, it seemed to me he was under the absurd impression that I enjoyed the spectacle of him forcing his many rolls of fat into a skin-tight sliver of Lycra.
So, he spends the rest of the afternoon gyrating and stretch utterly obscenely. All in an attempt to catch my eye. It was unbearable. Sometimes I think I ought to quit all together; remind me why I'm doing this again?"
Blaine watched warily as Kurt stood up, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one casually, letting the fag hang elegantly between his fingers. He inhaled deeply before letting the smoke pour through his lips.
Blaine had to suppress a very weary sigh. "You're in this production of Cats because you're twenty-seven and you want to be on Broadway. This isn't Broadway but it is a theatre in New York, albeit a small one. This is a step on your way to the top."
Kurt continued to breathe in the smoke.
"For fuck's sake Kurt, put out the damned fag." Blaine rarely ever swore or cursed and his tone was unusually severe. Kurt dropped the cigarette into a nearby plant pot, startled.
"Sorry." The dark haired man ran a hand through his curls and bit his lip. He finally admitted to himself something he'd really hoped was not true; they were drifting apart.
Blaine was a counsellor in a fairly well-thought of practice; he loved his work. Listening to people's problems, really trying to help them out when he could. His work made him very happy although sometimes it was incredibly stressful, seeing people taking their lives in a terrible direction and being powerless to stop it. Some days he came home emotionally exhausted, Kurt rarely ever asked him how his day had been.
They had broken up when they were both twenty and at different colleges; the whole 'long-term' concept had been hard to hold up, especially for Kurt in New York surrounded by other homosexual guys for the first time in his life.
Aged twenty-three, Blaine had just received a rookie job at a good counselling practice in New York. He was always looking out for Kurt on the streets; he'd never forgotten his first love. Finally his searching paid off and they got coffee together. The magic was still there.
Now aged twenty-seven, their major personality differences were starting to become a strain on the relationship as opposed to a joy.
Kurt sat down again, his heart heavy. "I've always loved you, Blaine Anderson," he spoke softly. "Ever since you caught me spying on you." He chuckled softly, a sad sound.
"I loved you too, Kurt." Blaine felt a physical pain in his heart when he realised he'd used the past tense. A dull ache began in his stomach when he realised he'd meant it. "You really were my teenage dream. But we're not teenagers anymore."
Kurt's eyes began to swim, his throat felt tight. Blaine paused for a moment, swallowing thickly.
"We're older now and I think we're too different to carry on together. God, I wish we didn't have to break up but Kurt, we're not right for each other." He could speak no more and nor could he prevent the tears rolling silently down his cheek.
Kurt choked back a sob. "I'll always love you. I know you're right, this isn't working anymore."
"I'll never say goodbye to you, Kurt, not really."
Kurt cried himself to sleep, every night the rest of that week. He cancelled his appointment at the spa and his missed three rehearsals. There was one date, however, that he could not cancel: his weekly coffee with Rachel.
Rachel had hit the Broadway big time since she'd left Lima. She was currently starring as Christine Daaé in Phantom of the Opera. Kurt had seen it five times now. But, despite her star status, she still kept in excellent contact with her best friend from McKinley.
"So, Blaine and I broke up. He moved out on Tuesday." Kurt said numbly as he slid into the booth opposite the brunette starlet. She grabbed Kurt's hand in sympathy; she had sensed their relationship might have been on the rocks.
Rachel smiled softly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm doing okay. I know it was for the best but he'll always be my first love."
She squeezed his hand softly before changing the subject as she could tell he wanted. Rachel, instead, asked after his work with Cats. Kurt's answer was rather disappointing.
"What you need is a better agent." Rachel said in an offhand manner, taking a sip of her latte. "Wait, what if you had my agent? He's an absolute doll! He got me all my best jobs!"
She was suddenly animated, struck by the brilliance of her idea. Kurt just shook his head.
"Too expensive; I'd have a brilliant agent by now if I could afford it. And there's no way I can get one now I have to pay for the rent alone. Of course, Blaine insisted on giving me enough for this month at least."
This news did not dampen Rachel's high spirits, though. She grinned at Kurt. "Move in with me, I have a spare room! You'll have to pay rent, sure but it's not too high."
Both of them knew this was a lie and that Rachel would pay for part of Kurt's rent. He paused for a moment.
"Maybe that could work."
"Sing "In My Life" by the Beatles, you do that beautifully." Rachel advised, taking Kurt's 'maybe' for a 'yes'. "I'll ring Tom right now."
Kurt decided he take a stroll in Central Park, a guaranteed hangover cure he'd discovered over the years. His twenty-eighth birthday celebrations had gotten a little out of hand last night.
He had just wandered past Strawberry Fields when he accidentally stumbled against a short figure in a black coat.
"Ah, I'm sorry," Kurt murmured. The man turned to look at him, adjusting his red and navy scarf.
"Kurt?" the voice was a familiar one and full of delight.
Kurt looked up at Blaine and smiled. "Blaine, how are you? I haven't seen you since you moved out."
Blaine smiled at his ex-boyfriend. "I've been great. The counselling's still going really well for me and… um, well, I'm dating that guy we met at one of Rachel's parties. Matt, do you remember him? He's a dentist. We've only been together a couple of months…"
"But it's going well? I'm really happy for you, Blaine." He meant it. "Actually, it's funny we should bump into each other today…"
Blaine laughed. "Well, I can guess why you're here. Walking off a hangover, no doubt! I know you, Hummel! Happy birthday, for yesterday, by the way."
Kurt grinned. "Guilty as charged and thank you. But last night's shindig was also a leaving party."
Blaine cocked his head, eyebrow raised.
"I just got a role in A Chorus Line as Mark Anthony. We're touring some of the states, I leave later today."
Blaine smiled widely and genuinely, hugging Kurt very quickly. "I'm thrilled for you, Kurt, well done!"
They exchanged a few more niceties and bits of new information before Kurt excused himself. "I still haven't packed, typical me!"
They stared at each other for a long moment; Kurt felt himself get a little lost in the hazel eyes he'd missed so badly. He now felt the aching sensation of loss, almost from afar. He'd accepted it now.
Blaine broke the moment with a short laugh. "Well, Kurt, I'll say good luck but I won't say goodbye."
A/N: My favourite so far. I'm so sorry I broke up Klaine! Don't hate me forever! I think Blaine is the most perfect first boyfriend for Kurt and I hope they don't break up before the end of Season 3 but I don't think they're a 'forever' couple - forever friends though!
Reviews are the best thing in the world and they make me write SANTANA'S chapter a lot quicker ;)
Elle xx