Chapter Eleven
Be Our Guest
Blaine was an hour too early. The Lima Bean coffee shop scarcely had any patrons, and the few who were there were having quiet discussions over steaming cups. Blaine sat alone in a corner booth, observing silently with his lips pursed.
He'd loved going to the Lima Bean back when he was living with his parents. On the days that he knew he could sneak out of his private school, he would order a drink or two and sit in his favorite booth and just listen. He didn't have to be with anyone else. Just sitting in the booth and watching the world around him fascinated him to no end.
There were so many unforgettable moments. He'd once seen two young girls in red-and-white cheer-leading uniforms come into the Lima Bean and order drinks, giggling in between sips. It was fairly easy to tell that they were attracted to each other.
Another fond memory was of a young boy and his father. They were sitting in the booth beside his. The little boy noticed that Blaine was alone and proceeded to have a conversation with him about Power Rangers and robots, and the father contributed as best as he could. Later, while the little boy went to the bathroom, the father thanked him. It turned out that the boy usually never spoke, but Blaine's presence made him comfortable enough to instigate a conversation. The father and son left happily soon afterward, and Blaine - for the umpteenth time since he had come out - wished that he had a father like that.
Now, Blaine observed the shop again, admiring the pillars that seemed to strike down from the ceiling in odd places, the artwork that nobody ever seemed to understand, and the dark finished tables that were probably just stained from spilled coffee. He was older now, and much more easily recognized, so he donned a dark green beanie and his old Dalton Academy scarf and ducked his head low as he drank his medium drip.
Three giggly schoolgirls walked in, ordered lattes, and sat down to gossip at a table just a little ways away from Blaine. They seemed to take no notice to Blaine, even though he had turned his head slightly to their direction.
After a few minutes of drabble over the captain of the football team's abs, an interesting topic popped up.
"Did you hear about Kurt Hummel?" the blonde of the group asked, twirling a stirring stick in her cup absentmindedly.
The brunette of the group rolled her eyes. "Everybody's heard about it."
"Like, I'd be surprised if you didn't, Mallory," the redhead said after a long sip of her drink.
Mallory rolled her eyes. "I heard that he met Sebastian Smythe yesterday and fainted at the Lima Freeze."
"I heard more," added the redhead. "My friend Georgina's friend Jennifer said that her friend Yasmin saw Kurt at the old cinema last night."
"So?" the brunette scoffed.
"So . . ." The redhead paused for dramatic effect. "Apparently Sebastian Smythe was there, too."
Mallory's jaw dropped. "Sebastian Smythe was still here and I missed it?"
"No way," breathed the brunette. "I can't believe it."
"Annnnnd," the redhead added, "Kurt was on a date with Blaine Anderson."
There was a terrible pause as this information sunk in. Then the girls collectively shrieked happily and grabbed each other.
"That is sooooooo cute," gushed the brunette.
"I know Kurt," the redhead insisted, "and Blaine's perfect for him. Kurt's had a crush on Blaine for, like, ever."
Blaine found himself smiling widely. He'd had his suspicions, but now that he knew that his crush on Blaine was so large that such gossipy girls knew about it and spoke of it in such public areas...
But the pang in his heart made his smile freeze in place. He had still intruded on Kurt's date with Sebastian. No matter how Kurt supposedly liked him, it didn't matter, because he had to tell him the truth.
How would that go? he wondered. Look Kurt straight in the eye and tell him that I lied to him because I was jealous that Smythe was wooing him and not me? He'd hate me.
While he was lost in thought, a new person entered the Lima Bean. After ordering their usual drink, they turned to scan the room for an available seat and spotted Blaine. Smiling warmly, he strode up and slid into the seat opposite him.
"Hello, Anderson," the new person greeted, running his hand through their dark brown hair.
Blaine snapped out of his thoughts. His expression, which had previously been of dismay and worry, changed into shock.
"B-Brett?" he choked out.
Kurt was running late.
Cheerios practice had been nothing but pure hell for him, as Coach Sylvester had him doing flips and kicks that would have discouraged even Brittany Pierce. Even worse, he had to do it all while singing a remix of Cobra Starship songs. He could still hear her yell, "Suck in, Porcelain!" even as he showered and dressed for his coffee date with Blaine.
Blaine.
Kurt resisted the urge to let out a dreamy sigh. It was so dream-like, though; meeting Blaine Anderson, hanging out with Blaine Anderson . . . He couldn't stress enough how amazing his life was. The girls in the locker room didn't help either, as they wanted to hear all about the concert over and over again.
"Did he really dedicate 'Teenage Dream' to you?" Santana asked, more out of jealousy than skepticism.
Kurt smirked. "He pointed right at me, spoke about my shirt, and then dedicated it to me. What do you think?"
Santana could barely hide her envy.
By the time Kurt left, it was a quarter to four. The Lima Bean was a half-hour walk away, as Finn and Burt were using the cars. He didn't want Blaine to think that he was being stood up, so he sent him a quick text.
Kurt Hummel:
I'm running late. I'll be there by 4:15, promise!
He didn't get a reply. Kurt knew that because he held his phone tightly in his hand, and it never beeped or vibrated or indicated an incoming text message.
Kurt quickened his pace. The second time I get to hang out with Blaine Anderson, and I'm late, he thought worriedly.
Brett smirked. "Didn't expect to see me, eh, Blainers? It's such a shame that you didn't attend my family's brunch yesterday. We had all of your favorites made just for you."
Blaine leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly. "I can't believe it," he said. "After everything that had happened between us, after everything you did to me at Dalton, you still feel like it's all right to invite my family to brunch and show up at my concert." He shook his head. "You weren't even supposed to be in the VIP meet and greet," he added disapprovingly.
"Actually, I was." Brett grinned. "My friend bought the tenth ticket, but I went in his place. I kept away from you, so no harm done, right?"
Blaine gritted his teeth together. "Doesn't change the fact that you almost ruined my night by being there." He glared at his coffee cup, as if it was to blame for Brett's presence.
Brett, unperturbed, remarked, "Who was that guy you were flirting with, Blainers?"
"Don't call me that," Blaine snapped. "And I was not flirting."
Brett snorted. "Please. I know what you look and act like when you're flirting. Touchy-feely, giggly, smiling so big your eyes are almost closed because of your enormous cheeks-"
Blaine cut him off. "Look, I'm supposed to be meeting someone. Could we do this another time? Like after my next tour with Sebastian Smythe?"
Meaning: never.
Brett stood up, taking his coffee cup with him. "I see how it is, Blainers. You're ashamed of your past. You know what?" Brett leaned uncomfortably close to Blaine, their noses nearly brushing. "You should be," he whispered menacingly.
And with that, Brett Avila strode off.
Sebastian was in his natural element. Of course, his natural element consisted of gyrating girls and boys, bass-dropping music, strobe lights, and never-ending alcoholic beverages. Ah, yes, being a celebrity had its advantages.
Four Hundred, the nightclub that stated to "always be lively", was Sebastian's new sanctuary. There, he didn't have to worry about stupid date-ruining gay celebrities or porcelain-skinned gay boys with a fascination for children's films. At Four Hundred, there were men and women giving him the eye - and paying for most of his drinks.
A pretty blonde woman walked up to Sebastian with a big red-lipped smile on her face. "Hey there. You're that guy from YouTube, aren't you?"
"Yes," Sebastian said. There was no point in lying there; the patrons already knew who he was and the few who didn't were being taken up to speed by the others.
The woman giggled. "You're hot."
"And I'm eighteen," he reminds the woman, tipping his nearly empty glass ever so slightly towards her.
She shrugged. "You're legal."
Fifteen minutes later, he found himself in a mens bathroom stall with the lady. From what he learned in her quick introduction as they took off each others' clothes, her name was Natalie, she was twenty-one and aspired to become an actress, was married to a cheating man named Blake, frequented Four Hundred both day and night, and loved Sebastian's music.
He could still hear the music. The floor was practically vibrating to the beat. Sebastian closed his eyes and ignored what he was doing, who he was doing, and just floated.
The thoughts he'd kept at bay now swarmed his mind.
Had I been too harsh on Anderson? Was Kurt even worth all of this drama? He certainly acted as though he liked Blaine more. Maybe he'd only accepted because he thought that Blaine would come along, and he hadn't wanted it as a date. Maybe it was all a big understanding between all three of us.
He slammed back to reality. Natalie was leaning against him, breathing heavily. He was somehow holding her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. He felt nothing, but panted along with her. How much time had passed? It felt like less than a minute, but he couldn't be sure.
"You know," Natalie gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, "you're different than the rest of the men."
"How so?"
Natalie smirked and lowered her feet to the ground. "They pay attention," she responded slyly. "Not zone out."
Ten minutes after she'd left to scan the masses for new prey, Sebastian was still standing in the stall, half-dressed.
He's going down, Sebastian thought. The boy is mine.
Kurt arrived at the Lima Bean breathless. If he lifted his shirt up to expose his stomach, there had better be a set of abs there from the exercise he'd gotten from rushing to the coffee shop. After buying his drink promptly, he spotted Blaine and headed over.
Blaine's head shot up when he came within a ten-foot radius. "You made it," Blaine said, relieved. "I just saw your text."
Kurt smiled shyly. "Good. How are you?"
Blaine's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine," he responded. "I bought myself a new cup of coffee."
"Oh, how long were you waiting?" Kurt asked worriedly.
Blaine lied. "Not too long. My coffee went cold quickly is all."
A silence. Blaine hated those silences. He wished for any good topic to fly into his mind. Before he could speak about the first subject he had in mind - sloths - Kurt spoke.
"About last night," Kurt said slowly. "I'm sorry if my family made you feel uncomfortable."
"No, no," Blaine said quickly. "Your family's amazing. I'd love to meet them again. In fact, I'd love for your father to tell me all about your adventures as a cheerleader." He winked as Kurt reddened.
Kurt smiled, feeling his warmed cheeks sheepishly. "In that case, I'm not inviting you to dinner tonight," he stated firmly.
Blaine's playful expression turned to one of shock. "Dinner with your family?"
Kurt's eyes widened. He began rambling. "I mean, if that's okay with you. My step-mom and I are making salad and - and lasagna and dessert and I thought that if you wanted to come and it was okay with you then you could come-"
"I would love to," Blaine said, cutting off Kurt.
Kurt smiled broadly. "You would?"
"It would be my pleasure." Blaine took a sip of his new medium drip. "Your family's nice, Kurt. You're really very lucky to call them yours."
Kurt said nothing, but one eyebrow rose questioningly.
"I think we have plenty of food for tonight," Carole said soothingly to a panicked Kurt. They were standing in the Hummel-Hudson kitchen, observing the cooking lasagna as they chopped up the ingredients for Carole's delicious signature Caesar salad. Kurt was expressing his panic as he grated the cheese, narrowly missing one of his fingertips on the metal holes. "Be careful, Kurt."
Kurt grimaced at his fingertip. "Only a scratch, Carole." He turned around and opened the refrigerator door. "What if he doesn't like pecan pie? Or pecans? Or pie?"
Carole could barely stop herself from laughing as she watched her stepson fret by the fridge. Blaine was due to arrive in twenty minutes, plenty of time for Kurt to have a food-related meltdown.
She allowed, "I'm sure he likes pie. Now sprinkle that grated cheese on top, and we're all set for dinner."
Kurt finished making the salad, but he still worried. "What if he's a vegan and doesn't like the salad? What if he's allergic to an ingredient in the lasagna and has to be hospitalized and misses the rest of his tour? What if-"
"Kurt," Carole said firmly. "Calm down. Everything's going to be fine."
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Kurt threw his hands up towards the ceiling in exasperation.
"He's early!" he fretted as he headed towards the front door. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no."
Blaine stood on the other side of the door, dressed casually in a blue plaid collared shirt and black jeans. A red bow tie and shiny black shoes completed his look. In his hands, he held a white box. A drawing of a muffin smiling upwards at the logo, BETHANY'S BAKERY, was stamped on the top.
"Hello, Kurt," he greeted happily. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought extra dessert. Red velvet cupcakes, to be exact."
Finn, who had some built-in radar that detected delicious food in the vicinity, appeared beside Kurt. "I can take that for you," he offered, grinning wolfishly.
Kurt handed him the box, warning him, "Not until after dinner."
Finn popped up the lid and gasped. "I want to eat every single one," he said, before catching Kurt's eye and adding, "but I won't try to until after dinner."
Kurt escorted Blaine to the dining room, where Burt and Rachel were. They were already sitting at the table, chatting about the latest assignment in glee club. Rachel, of course, had gotten the female solo.
"Hello," Blaine greeted Burt and Rachel shyly.
Rachel stared at him, mouth agape. "It's really you?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Did you ever doubt that I would tell you the truth?" He had to. Finn had invited her for dinner that night, so he had to inform her of their guest. She was disbelieving, but went along with it anyway.
Rachel sprang up from her chair to shake Blaine's hand. "My name is Rachel Berry. I'm aspiring to be a Broadway performer, or the next Barbra Streisand, whichever comes first."
Blaine smiled. "I'm Blaine. I bet you think I can help you with that. Unfortunately, my brother Cooper's the one with the Broadway connections."
Rachel's smile didn't falter. "I know."
"Uh, okay then." Blaine released Rachel's hand and sat down. Kurt sat promptly next to him, before Rachel could badger him with questions. Rachel grudgingly sat down at her old spot, but continued to smile widely at their celebrity guest. Finn came back from putting the cupcakes in the kitchen and sat down next to her.
"Don't I feel like Rachael Ray," Carole laughed as she carried the bowl of Caesar salad to the table.
"This looks delicious, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine said politely, reaching for the salad tongs first.
"Call me Carole," she replied as she ducked into the kitchen for the lasagna.
After eating a bowlful of salad and two slices of lasagna, Blaine cracked open the box of red velvet cupcakes to distribute. "They're vegan," he reassured Rachel, who had never stopped talking about herself during the dinner conversation.
Along with the cupcakes came the pecan pie. Blaine admitted that he loved pecan pie, and would alway request it for dessert when he was little. Kurt laughed at the story, but was relieved that he hadn't made a strawberry cheesecake like he'd planned earlier.
"So . . . good . . ." Finn mumbled between bites. He alternated between a bite of pie and a bite of cupcake, which made both his girlfriend and Blaine grimace in thinly veiled disgust.
When the night drew to a close, and Kurt had attempted valiantly to stop Burt and Carole from telling embarrassing stories about him while Finn devoured the dessert, Blaine waited for a taxi out front with Kurt.
"I had a really nice time," Blaine told Kurt. "Especially when I heard about the cheer-leading. I was waiting for that."
Kurt nudged him. "Hey, they really appreciated you coming."
Blaine stared at the driveway for a second before speaking again. "I don't have that much time left in Ohio," he said, sounding sad. "I didn't realize how much I missed being here, having a normal life."
"I want to leave here," Kurt admitted, following Blaine's gaze to the concrete. "I mean, I love my family and all, but I don't think that I want to be here forever. I want to be a star. I want to teach people all over the world that it's okay to be like me; to aspire to be different, to be gay."
Kurt averted his gaze to look at the sky. Stars twinkled from high above, as if they were winking at him. He was never good at astronomy, so he didn't know if the stars were forming anything important like Orion's belt or the Milky Way or-
A pair of soft, warm lips pressed gently against his, and he paused in his musing, his eyes sliding shut. He felt content, elated, warm, as he stood on his front steps barefooted. Warm arms wrapped around his waist as the kiss deepened, as a hand buried into Kurt's perfect hair and ruined its shape . . .
And just like that, it was all gone. The warmth, the tingling that Kurt felt on the tips of his toes, the feeling of the arms around him. His hair was messed up, that he knew for sure.
Blaine grinned at him from where he stood, barely a foot away from Kurt. The taxi he'd been waiting for was waiting at the curb, the high beams lighting up the street.
"Good night, Kurt," he whispered before turning away.
Kurt watched as Blaine entered the taxi. He remained rooted to the floor as it sped away, its lights disappearing from view. Then he sighed heavily - not of distraught or distaste - and headed back inside.
His cell phone displayed a new message.
Blaine Anderson:
I'm sorry if I was too forward, but I had to do it at least once.
A/N: What do you think? Will Sebastian put up a fight? Was the kiss too forward? Should Kurt go on a date with Sebastian just to see if there is anything there? Let me know!