Remember that time Mr. Schue gave the Gleeks in lesson to sing something under the theme Hello, and Rachel decided to focus on the first syllable of that word?
I did the same thing.
Blaine unlocks the door to their apartment, and tries to be as silent as possible. He knows Kurt has an early start tomorrow, and needs the sleep he can get. So Blaine navigates through the entry hall without turning any lights on – carefully placing the keys on the sidetable, peeling off his coat and securing it on a hanger without jiggling anything, and sliding his boots together to the side so Kurt won't stumble in them tomorrow. He tiptoes further towards the kitchen for a glass of water and some fruit before he joins Kurt in bed.
Except when he enters the kitchen, Kurt is seated on one of their stools by the kitchen island. Blaine opens his mouth to say something sweet to him, but Kurt stops him with one hand raised.
"Don't. Just don't. You don't get to come home and be all considerate and sweet, when I know what you've done behind my back."
"Excuse me?" Blaine scoffs, because this wasn't exactly what he'd imagined he'd come home to. He was expecting Kurt to be asleep, but hoping he'd wake up enough to spoon Blaine until they both fell asleep again.
"Oh, don't act so innocent, you grew out of that look in high school," Kurt growls, and now Blaine is getting pissed. He has no idea what Kurt is talking about, but he's pretty darn sure he doesn't deserve to be under attack like this.
"I know, okay?" Kurt continues, and crosses his arms across his chest. It makes his biceps bulge, and his eyes are icey, and Blaine is getting inappropriately turned on. "I saw your producer today; she came by to inform me that I'll need to sew a new set of costumes for Hedwig, because apparently someone else is going on that tour. So imagine my confusion, when all I knew was that my darling husband has been the star of Hedwig for seven months now, and the last thing you told me was that you'd be going on a tour in 35 different states."
"I said Hedwig was going on tour…" Blaine says meekly. Mrs. Larson wasn't supposed to even be in the city this week, and then she goes all efficient and plans costumes for the new Hedwig less than 24 hours after Blaine informed her of his decision. Costumes Kurt are making, because he's brilliant. And passionate about musical theatre, so much that he tries to do both that and working on his own fashion line. But all that passion seems now to be directed towards Blaine, transformed to negativity.
"And you are Hedwig!" Kurt bites, and points at him with a trembling finger, vaguely reminding Blaine of Cooper. Kurt jumps down from the stool. "What the hell were you thinking, dropping out of Hedwig like this?"
"I didn't drop out of anything; I had a mature conversation with Mrs. Larson about it!" Blaine yells back.
"Oooh, and it didn't occur to you to have that kind of conversation with your goddamn husband?" Kurt shouts, and he's so angry his eyes are glistening with unshed tears. He marches off, but pivots like the classically trained dancer he is – a NYADA-graduate who struggles to get parts, but is a virtuous with fabrics. "I'm not storming out yet, I deserve a decent explanation. Why the hell did I have to hear this from a colleague? I thought we didn't have secrets?" Kurt sniffs, and his anger seems to be part hurt now.
"I was going to tell you this weekend, when we're both off from work and have time for each other," Blaine says, trying to sound calm, but he's still upset about Kurt exploding all over his face like that.
"But you still made the decision without me. You made me believe you were going on tour, and as I'm trying to get used to the idea of not seeing you for quite some time I get the bomb in my lap that you declined that job offer. What am I supposed to think?"
"How about you think about something positive? God Kurt, it's as if you're disappointed I won't be gone for more than three months anyway. What the hell am I supposed to think? Do you even want to be married to me?" Blaine shouts, and he knows it's a low blow, but seriously? Is that his husband's reaction to knowing he'll be home on a daily basis?
"You know what? Screw you!"
"Yeah? And screw you too!"
This time, Kurt really does storm off, and it feels as if the entire building is shaking by the force of Kurt slamming the door to their bedroom. Blaine's fists clench and unclench, and he tries to inhale and exhale deeply, slowly. When he thinks he can trust his own hands, he finally gets the glass of water he initially needed.
He's draining it in large gulps when Kurt returns, with a bag over his shoulder.
"Kurt…" Blaine whispers, feeling hoarse and exhausted, more so from the shouting match than from playing Hedwig earlier tonight. But Kurt lifts a palm in his direction, and doesn't look at him. There's a short moment of shuffling noises as he probably laces up some kind of footwear and buttons his coat, and then the door is slammed shut.
Blaine exhales deeper than ever, and leaves the almost empty glass in the sink. He returns moments later, remembering how Kurt hates finding dishes with leftovers in the sink, and pours out the remaining water.
By habit and muscle memory, he undresses, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, flosses, and pulls on his PJ pants and one of Kurt's Hummel Tires & Lube-tees. He finds himself deep under the covers, head on the mattress next to Kurt's pillows, sniffing them.
He tries to be angry with Mrs. Larson for interfering in their marriage, but he can't blame her – they are on a tight schedule, and the new costumes have to be ready. She was only doing her job, while Blaine failed – again – to do his job as a husband. He should have told Kurt as soon as he had made up his mind. But when could he have? He's been performing six nights a week, while Kurt is working part-time as costume maker at a few off-Broadway theatres, and also juggling a part-time position at Vogue to have a foot in while working on his own fashion line. And in between, he's also part of the audition circus.
While Blaine spends his days resting after performance, tending to his sore feet, visiting the gym for one part work-out and two parts sauna to relax aching muscles, and then scoring the net for upcoming auditions he thinks call his name. They sometimes manage a quick dinner before he has to run to the theatre (it takes a lot of time to get his nails and face on, to tuck away his dick because that is seriously a short skirt, and to balance that enormous wig), but more often than not they only meet in bed, and have Sundays together. And that's what made Blaine decide to decline the tour offer. He needs to see more of Kurt, he can't be married to someone he only shares the mailbox and fridge with. They need to figure something out. It's been demanding to be Hedwig, and even if he loves her, it's time to let her go. Nobody is more important than Kurt.
He twists and turns in bed, feeling as if the minutes disappear at a snail's pace, and at the same time the hours fly. He checks his alarm clock, and the phone. It's been more than three hours since Kurt left, meaning he was seriously pissed when he hasn't returned by now. So Blaine does the only thing he can do. He picks up a pair of sweatpants to replace his PJ, finds one of Kurt's pair of wool socks knitted by Carole, and shoves feet and arms in boots and coat, and then he leaves the apartment.
Fortunately, Elliot is a light sleeper, so he's easily pulled out of bed when someone knocks on his door. Again. He glances at the big clock on his wall – way after 4 AM, but right on time. He knows it's Blaine even before he opens the door. It isn't the first time the young man has come over for a nightly visit.
"Umm, hi," Blaine says awkwardly.
"He's in the guest room," Elliot shakes his head, and gestures for Blaine to come in. Blaine toes off his boots and Elliot offers to take his coat, because that's what Blaine always does when Elliot comes to their place.
"I'm just gonna…" Blaine murmurs hesitantly, and nods in the direction of the guest room. The only people who ever sleep there are Kurt and Blaine, and Elliot should probably call it something else than a guest room. The Love Shack, perhaps. The Room of Necessity. Or The Redemption Room.
He watches Blaine walk down the corridor with steps that are both eager and careful. Knowing them – and he knows them very well by now – they'll talk everything out in ten minutes. Maybe fifteen; Kurt had looked particularly pissed tonight. Elliot understands – it's not easy to be a struggling artist, and Kurt has had so many rejections thrown in his face. The callbacks that never call back, the transparent and apologetic different vision-excuses. Elliot understands that Kurt lost it; he understands that Kurt is worried for their future when Blaine declines parts and possibilities. You take what you get when you are still at the bottom. You need the money to foot the bills and bring food to the table, and you need the experience to get better parts. You need to get your name out. Elliot isn't worried about Blaine, though. As long as Blaine discovers Kurt's insecurities and jealousy over this, they'll be fine. Blaine is too talented to be forgotten just because he declined the tour. In fact, Elliot thinks it's strategic to remain in the city and stay in the audition-loop. If they'll only listen, they'll understand each other. And they are good at this communication-thing, Elliot isn't worried. Ten minutes tops, and then…
Well, before the clock strikes 5, one of them will be at top. Sometimes Elliot thinks he's adding condoms and lube more often in the guest room than in his own room. He's not sure he believes in marriage, when he knows what it did to his parents. But he belies in love, and he believes in what the two of them have. He'd like the same for himself one day. Someone with so much passion and closeness that they aren't afraid to fight, and have the most glorious make up-sex after.
There's this cute waiter at the deli two blocks away, maybe he's working the early bird-shift, Elliot muses. He could eat breakfast. If not, there's always a party somewhere in the city that never sleeps; maybe he'll meet someone there.