I'm ready for this story to be over. It hurts so much to write. So I'm going to be more to the point with things, not that I haven't already been. I thought this would be cathartic, but it's more torment. I apologize if the rest of this is abrupt. I feel like a freaking failure after the last story was so good. But I thought I needed this. So, on with it. I will finish the story in this chapter. I have to. I'm sorry for wasting everyone's time. Lesson learned. I already have another idea for a story and it will be much more fun than this.
. . . . . .
Kurt spent the next two weeks texting with Kian. He was continually surprised to find the other man kind and considerate, anticipating Kurt's needs and fears. He guessed he was still waiting for the Sebastian to come out of him. But instead they would spend hours texting each other. The few times Kurt called him, Kian had stuttered and stumbled through the conversation. Finally, he was able to convince Kurt that unless he was face to face with someone, then texting was the best option. Kurt loved how he would go through the day and receive random texts from Kian.
Kian: What is your favorite color?
Kurt: Blue.
Kian: You're eyes are the most wonderful shade of blue.
And then he wouldn't hear from him for another few hours. He was asked all of the 'favorite' questions. Books, movie, TV, theater, clothes. They could never seem to stop talking about music, though. That was a passion they both shared. They discussed groups and songs down to the nth detail, notes and melodies, harmonies that sounded good or didn't. Kurt hadn't had so much fun in his life. But it was the night time texts that had opened his heart. They'd discussed sleeping in at one point and Kurt admitted he didn't like to sleep at all. Kian had gotten him to confess about the nightmares. So, every night, whether they had spoken at all that day, Kurt got a text around ten at night.
Kian: Sleep sweet, Kurt.
That was all. And though it didn't take the nightmares away, it made him feel cared for.
. . . . . .
Kian: Tav and Dolph are having a BBQ on the roof this weekend. Be my date?
Kurt: Now how am I supposed to ask you to be my date if you go and ask me first? It's my building.
Kian: Ok, forget I said anything.
Kurt: Hey, Kian, got a question for you.
Kian: Sure, Kurt, what's up?
Kurt: Tav and Dolph are having a BBQ on the roof this Saturday night. Be my date?
Kian: You know I'd love to, but I'm just too busy.
Kurt: Jerk.
Kian: Fine. Don't beg, it doesn't become you. Pick you up at 8?
Kurt: If I'm here.
Kian: Jerk.
. . . . . .
Kian and Kurt walked up to the BBQ together carrying the casserole and salad they were contributing. They saw Dolph and Tavio had been busy, setting up picnic tables and chairs everywhere. It was going to be a big party. The food was more of an excuse to drink than anything else.
Food got thrown on the BBQ's, music playing and as more people showed up, dancing began.
Kurt and Kian sat at a picnic table, straddling the bench. Kurt noticed that where their knees touched and occasionally their feet, it felt like a warm fire was starting. The brush of fingers, the way Kian wiped at a potential smudge on Kurt's cheek. It was all building to create a fire of need inside Kurt. They got up at one point and danced together, Kurt discovering that Kian wasn't that great at moving. But he could get the general sway down since he had rhythm and when two people want to move together, the sway is really all you need.
Someone had set up a karaoke machine and they got up and sang a couple songs together, laughing so hard, Kurt's stomach hurt. Kian was so much fun, Kurt couldn't help but always be smiling. But when they touched, the smile melted into something else. A feeling that was mirrored in Kian's eyes.
That night, Kian walked him back to his room. Kurt asked him in and they sat on the couch, facing each other from opposite ends, talking for the longest time. Finally, Kurt couldn't take it and moved across the couch on his knees and, balancing against Kian's wide chest, he leaned down and kissed him. His lips were perfect, warm, firm, welcoming. Their mouths moved against each other's for a long while until both of them were short of breath. Kurt sat down between Kian's legs, leaning back against his chest. Kian wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him.
"I promise not to hurt you," Kian whispered.
Later after Kian left, Kurt lay in his bed, thinking of those dark eyes, so dark he could see his own reflection in them. Was he starting to care for Kian? Could he risk it?
Kian: Sleep sweet, Kurt.
. . . . . .
A year later, Kurt was smiling at the picture Kian had sent him on his phone. A squirrel had gotten lost at the construction site and Kian had caught a picture of him running up a wall.
Things had been rough between them, but it looked like things were finally looking up. Kian had gotten ill a couple months before, so ill he'd had to go into the hospital for a while. A build up of fluids, they said. Nothing serious. But he'd been in there for a few days. Kian had asked him to not come visit, that he didn't want Kurt stuck as a nursemaid. He'd even tried to break up with Kurt. Kurt didn't take that one sitting down and had marched into the hospital room, demanding that Kian let Kurt love him, let him be there for whatever he needed. Kian had mouthed "I love you" as Kurt was quickly shooed out by a nurse and Kurt knew it would be okay.
They had fights like this often. They were both extremely passionate people who took it out on each other. At the beginning of the relationship whenever Kurt would get angry, he'd swallow it back, hold it in. Kian would get in his face and yell at him to fight back, to not let himself get pushed around. Well, Kian's methods worked better than therapy and soon Kurt would get right up in his face when he had something to say. Most of the time, they'd fight it out in the bedroom, letting their bodies duke it out. There was another area, Kian had worked his magic. Kian had shown Kurt that lovemaking could be sweet and tender and pain free. It had taken a while before they'd been fully intimate, but never once had Kian pushed him.
And every night came the text before bed. Even the nights that Kian stayed over.
Kian: Sleep sweet my love.
Kurt loved him dearly, so much it ached sometimes. He was the most wonderful man. Now that he was feeling better after his hospital stay, Kurt looked forward to more good times with him.
Kian: Need to talk. Can I stop by after work?
Kurt: Sure.
Kian usually just stopped by, but announcing it made it serious. Kurt did his hair and had coffee waiting when Kian finally got there.
"Hey beautiful," Kian said, kissing him sweetly.
"Hey yourself," Kurt said, loving the construction look Kian was pulling off. The big boots, the worn jeans and t-shirt. It did something for him.
"So, my aunt invited me to go on a trip with her in a couple weeks," Kian said.
Knowing Kian and his aunt and grandmother were very close, Kurt nodded. "Okay. Where are you going?"
"That's the best part," Kian said, his dark eyes lighting up. "We're going to Yellowstone National Park."
"Oh honey, I'm happy for you," Kurt exclaimed, hugging him. "I'm also happy for me that I'm not going."
Kian laughed. "Oh come on, you know you love nature."
"As a print on fabric, absolutely. In the flesh? No thanks," Kurt said. His job with Marc Jacobs was taking off fabulously and Kurt never skipped a chance to talk about clothes or fabric.
"Fine. But I'm going to send you a postcard," Kian said.
"You'd better," Kurt replied with a grin.
That night as they lay snuggled together, Kurt felt this gnawing sensation in his chest. Why hadn't Kian invited him? His aunt Cindy and grandmother loved Kurt and they often did things together. He found he was jealous. He wanted to go on this dream vacation with his boyfriend, even if he did hate nature.
He fell asleep with a frown on his face.
When he woke up in the morning, he rolled over to find Kian gone for the day. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't had a nightmare the previous night. He'd dreamed, but it had been far from a nightmare.
Going to his desk, he pulled out his journal and began writing down every detail.
Golden eyes. Curly hair. I haven't thought about Blaine Anderson in so long, but in the dream, I loved him. I needed and wanted him. And he loved me. Kian wasn't even in the dream. Is there such a thing as dream adultery? Blaine held me in his arms, kissing me and it felt so right. Like everything in the world was as it should be. But I love Kian. We've been looking at engagement rings for god's sake! I don't feel like I love Blaine still. But that dream. So vivid. Those golden eyes. I guess I do miss him. Oh well. Odd dream. Off to work I go.
. . . . . .
Two and a half weeks later, Kurt was waiting near the phone when it rang.
"Hey beautiful," Kian said.
"I feel like it's been forever since we talked," Kurt said. He missed Kian more than he'd thought he would.
"Did you write to me today?" Kian asked. Kurt had been writing Kian a letter a day for him to read when he got home.
"I did, as a matter of fact. And it might just be rated RH for Really Hot," Kurt teased.
"I so wish I was alone right now," Kian whispered.
Kurt giggled. "Oops, sorry. Hope I didn't give you a hard on in front of your grandma.
"Me too," Kian said.
They talked for a time about Kurt's job and how Kian's vacation was going. All the animals Kian had seen were described in great detail. Kurt tried to show the appropriate amount of appreciation, but it just wasn't there.
"I'll be home in four days," Kian told him finally.
"I can't wait," Kurt said. "I miss you."
"I miss you too. Sleep sweet my love," he said.
"Thank you. I love you, Kian," Kurt said, smiling.
"I love you, too," Kian said.
. . . . . .
The next day found Kurt in a frazzled state of mind. Anything that could go wrong had gone wrong at work and he was literally counting down the minutes until he could get out of there. It had been a long day and all he wanted was a glass of wine, a call from Kian, and sleep.
He was hiding in his office, talking with his co-workers and assistants. They were all female and got along with Kurt famously. Sarah was regaling them with her latest shopping scandal when Kurt's office phone rang. He glared at it, but picked it up anyway.
"Is this Kurt Hummel?" the voice asked.
"Yes, how can I help you?" Kurt asked.
"I am putting through an emergency call from Cindy Jerome. Will you accept the call?" the proper voice said.
Kurt felt a shaft of cold fear slice through him. "Yes, of course."
"Please hold."
"Kurt, dear is that you?" Cindy asked.
"Yes. What's the matter. Where is Kian?" Kurt asked, doom filling every pore in his body.
"Honey, I'm so sorry. He passed away this afternoon," Cindy said, her voice choked.
"What? What did you say?" Kurt asked, his brain refusing to cooperate.
"Kurt, Kian died today. His heart stopped and they were unable to resuscitate him," she said.
"Kurt, calm down," one of his assistants said. "What's going on?"
"Kian? Kian's dead?" Kurt yelled, his voice going shrill. "Kian's gone?"
"Kurt, give me the phone," somebody said.
The phone was out of his hand and he was standing. "Kian's dead? No!" he screamed. He screamed it again and again and again. "No, please god, no! Kian!"
Kurt doesn't remember how, but Tavio and Dolph showed up and he is escorted from the office, with them holding his hands. He is driven home and put to bed. He doesn't sleep though. He's too busy crying and denying what he'd heard. Kian wasn't dead. They'd see. It was a mistake. He couldn't be dead. Kurt had just talked to him the night before, for crying out loud. The pillow was soaking wet, but he didn't know how. He had no idea he was shaking with sobs, Tavio and Dolph holding him between them. The three of them cried late into the night and there was nobody to tell Kurt to sleep sweet.
. . . . . .
People say to do things in life because if you don't, there may come a day when you regret not doing it. When it comes to identifying a body before cremation, Kurt could assure anyone that skipping it would be perfectly fine.
. . . . . .
Kurt shook hands with people as they filed in for the memorial. Kurt's only two friends were there. Dolph and Tavio. The trio had matching circles under their eyes. They had helped him piece together a collage of pictures before the ceremony that were now decorating the front of the hall they'd rented.
Sarah from work came up to him and pressed a CD into his hand.
"Here's that CD you were looking for," she whispered.
Kurt looked at her and the CD, unable to hold back the tears. "Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me." Kurt had looked everywhere for the old CD and hadn't found it anywhere.
People spoke at the memorial. They spoke about the love of life Kian had, the kindness, the willingness to help anyone and everyone. Kurt got up and spoke about Kian teaching him to be strong, teaching him what love was really like. Even though Kian had lied to him, hadn't told him about the heart disease he'd been fighting the whole time, Kurt wasn't angry. Kian had lived every day like it was his last day. Until it finally was his last. It seemed fitting in a way that he died in a place he'd always dreamed of going, among the nature he'd loved so much.
Then Kurt went to the center stage and cued the sound man. There would never again be a song so hard to sing. But he gathered himself and forced the words past his tear-clogged throat.
Fly, fly little wing
Fly beyond imagining
The softest cloud, the whitest dove
Upon the wind of heaven's love
Past the planets and the stars
Leave this lonely world of ours
Escape the sorrow and the pain
And fly again
Fly, fly precious one
Your endless journey has begun
Take your gentle happiness
Far too beautiful for this
Cross over to the other shore
There is peace forevermore
But hold this mem'ry bittersweet
Until we meet
Fly, fly do not fear
Don't waste a breath, don't shed a tear
Your heart is pure, your soul is free
Be on your way, don't wait for me
Above the universe you'll climb
On beyond the hands of time
The moon will rise, the sun will set
But I won't forget
Ooh
Fly, fly little wing
Fly where only angels sing
Fly away, the time is right
Go now, find the light
. . . . . .
Two weeks after Kian died, Kurt was finally able to go about the mundane tasks of life. Not that it was getting easier; it wasn't. But he knew there were things he had to do and so he made himself do them. He got his laundry washed, he paid his bills, he finished the accounts at work that demanded attention. That Saturday, he got to thinking about the memorial and how beautiful it had been. If Sarah hadn't found that music for him, it might not have been as perfect as Kian had deserved.
With that thought in mind, he went out and picked a bouquet of flowers and a card for her. He drove to her house, hoping she'd be home, wanting to make sure she knew how grateful he was.
He rang her doorbell and smiled weakly when she answered.
"Kurt! What are you doing here?" she asked, her green eyes bright.
"I, uh, wanted to bring you these flowers and the card. To thank you for what you did for me. You know, for the memorial," Kurt said, biting his lip so he wouldn't cry. His mouth had been bleeding a lot since that was how he kept the tears back.
"Oh, sweetie, thank you. Come on in, please ignore the mess. My brother and his friend are having a Halo marathon," she said. "Paul, come meet my friend," she called.
A tall man with thinning brown hair and friendly green eyes came up and shook his hand. "I'm Paul, I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Kurt said quietly.
"This is my friend," Paul said, turning to the side.
"Blaine?" Kurt said, stunned.
"Kurt? Oh my god, is it really you?" Blaine asked, rushing forward to envelope Kurt in his arms.
"Blaine," Kurt sobbed, collapsing onto the floor, with Blaine wrapped around him.
"I'm so sorry about your fiancé, Kurt," Blaine whispered.
"I missed you," Kurt whimpered. "I'm so sorry I let Sebastian separate us."
"That's in the past. You have me now," Blaine assured him. "I'm not going to let you go."
. . . . . .
Twelve years later, Kurt was going through pictures with Tavio, reminiscing over their college days. Blaine was still busy at work at the theater, as he always was on opening nights. Kurt would be in the audience, cheering his husband on, as always.
Kurt was thumbing through pictures when he gasped and dropped the pictures in his hand except for one. In it, he and Kian were in the midst of a laugh, absolute joy on their faces. Tears flooded Kurt's eyes. Twelve years later or not, he still missed him sometimes. He loved Blaine with everything in him and truly believed they were meant to be. Having the dream of Blaine two weeks before Kian's death and meeting him after so many years only two weeks after Kian died. It was too much to be mere coincidence. But he still thought fondly of Kian. He was grateful for the lessons he'd learned, learning to love and be loved. How to be strong within himself. Blaine never faulted him for his feelings and even agreed to a picture being hung up in the den. Just a small snapshot of Kian smiling at the camera. Just enough to honor his memory. He let the tears fall for a few minutes, having never seen these particular pictures, but there they were, one after another. He and Tavio laughed at the memories. Then the phone rang and Tavio ran off to answer it.
For a moment it felt as though the room weren't empty, as if he wasn't alone. As if he could hear Kian's voice once more, before he put the lid back on the box of pictures.
"Sleep sweet my love."
He smiled, patted the box and went to go get ready for opening night.
THE END
. . . . . .
Again, I apologize because I didn't take this as far as it could go. Like I said, it was too painful. I'd like to tell you guys about my story. If you don't want to hear it, I understand, please just leave a review and look for the next story.
In 1999, I was engaged to the most wonderful man on earth named Jeff. He'd gotten me through a horrible break-up. And like Kian did for Kurt, Jeff taught me how to be strong, how to fight back, how to find myself again. He died at the age of 29. Two weeks before he died, I dreamed of my Blaine, and two weeks after Jeff passed, I saw my husband for the first time since we dated in high school. Our reunion wasn't as full of love and romanticism as a story, but we built a wonderful life together and now, 12 years later, we are still happily married. Some interesting points are.. the dream. Too weird that I would have that just before he died. Jeff did have heart disease; sudden death being one of the side effects, as the doctor put it. My husband had also been in a bad relationship while I was and had recently gotten out of it when we reunited. We both had sons who were only four months apart in age. Before Jeff went on his trip to Yellowstone, he started calling people out of the blue, renewing friendships and giving away his possessions, as if he knew. And like Kurt, I was mad, jealous that I didn't get to go on the trip. Afterward, I wondered if my spirit knew, somehow, that he wouldn't be coming home to me. I did find out at work that he'd died. I worked in a call center and found out later that people who worked across the entire building had heard me scream. I don't remember. I was very poor when Jeff and I were together and didn't have the money for a camera. When he died I realized we had no pictures of us together. His aunt gave me his camera and there was film inside. When I developed the film, there was one picture, perfectly taken of he and I at the beach. He hadn't known if the film was any good so he wanted to use it up before he bought new film. I still have that picture, though there are bite marks on it. My 2 year old son at the time had thought it was tasty. Anyway, my mom and I were recently going through pictures and we found a whole bunch with Jeff in them. It was such a shock to my system that I immediately started sobbing. Sometimes I miss him so much. He was beautiful, passionate, kind, musical, and he taught me what it felt like to be loved for real. I will always be grateful to him.
Oh and Tavio? That was what my husband's name would have been if his mother had had her way. Thank GOD she didn't! lololol
I am putting up a couple pictures of Jeff on my tumblr. Please stop in and take a look if you'd like.
http:/ tmblr. co/ZobKmvKy_xd5 (take out the space before and after tmblr)