Media: Fic
Title: Wanna Be Yours (2/?)
Rating: M
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Age difference, mpreg
Word Count: ~8.1k
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Chapter Two
[:::][:::][:::]
Blaine sat cross-legged on an armchair in the dark, his limbs feeling like lead. The sun had set hours ago, a full moon now taking its place. A window behind him had been left open and noise from the sleepless city welcomed itself into the apartment. The drawn honeycomb shades helped only to keep out any lively lights. He barely heard anything over the racing swoosh-whoosh of his own heartbeat, anyway. Hands in his lap, Blaine bowed his head. His fingers were sticky from tugging at his gelled-back hair far too many times, his scalp both itchy and aching from the abuse.
The apartment door flung open abruptly, hitting off the cracked doorstop. He flinched at the racket of Puck's clomping. Blinking hard and working his jaw until he felt a satisfying pop, Blaine scrubbed a hand over his face. His unwanted new roommate situation would now have to take the back-burner to the Newest Surprise of His Life. Puck's unexpected residence in the two-bedroom apartment Blaine's parents were partially paying for had been another "special" moment that'd caught him off-guard. He clenched his teeth as a light switch was flipped on.
"Whoa, Blaine? Fuckin' shit, man. You just 'bout scared the... Uh, you okay?"
He let out a strangled laugh. "No," he huffed. Blaine pinched his eyes shut briefly, annoyed with them for tearing up yet again. Sniffling, he shook his head and repeated a less exasperated, "No." He threw his hands up, his posture crumpling. "No, I'm not okay. I think, I think I'm going to be a—a..." He looked away from Puck, worrying his top lip between his teeth.
Puck sighed through his teeth, the sound coming out like a hiss. "A republican?" he guessed dumbly, not bothered by Blaine's distress. The indifference in his tone sent Blaine jumping to his feet, his mouth twisted into a snarl. Puck remained wholly unalarmed by Blaine's outburst and didn't try to hide his smirk.
Blaine's hands were down at his sides and squeezed into fists. He snapped, "I got someone pregnant!" His voice echoed off the walls, loud and shrill. Puck stared down at Blaine, slack-jawed.
"You... Really? You got someone pregnant?" Puck chuckled, his uneven smile reappearing gleefully. He reached forward to give Blaine a congratulatory pat on the back. Blaine stepped away from him, an automatic response after weeks of them butting heads. His amusement nauseated Blaine. "That does suck," he admitted. "But hey, at least you got some."
"You're a pig."
"Duh. So, who's the unlucky dude? Or, ha, the even unluckier chick?" He tutted sarcastically at Blaine's glare. "What? I know how you can get when you're shit-faced... Hell, everyone knows how you can get—"
"You, Puck, you are the last person I want to talk to about this." Blaine ignored the rest of what Puck had to say, albeit he had rolled his eyes. He sat back down on the swivel armchair.
"'K, so you just wanna stew by your sober lonesome and mope about your screw-up? Uh-huh, alright. Fine." Puck grunted as he dimmed the lights. He hit the wrong switch and the ceiling fan started to spin. "Why not?" he continued. "Sounds healthy or, um. It would if 'healthy' meant 'pathetic.'"
"Cut me a break, Puck. I literally just found out." Blaine leaned back heavily, his knees sprawled. He needed time to—to... How had Kurt put it? Ah, yes. Blaine needed time to "think it over." 'It' was such a loaded word, he thought.
"Relax, would you? This happens to the best of us."
"This isn't like that, what happened with you." Kurt's mouth moved soundlessly in Blaine's head: 'I want the baby.' A fear seized him, one he couldn't shake off. Feeling as though he could shiver at any moment, he hugged his arms to his chest. "He's keeping it."
Puck shrugged, his body language expressing another heartfelt duh. "Of course he is. It's the best way for him to sink his claws into your trust fund."
Up and at 'im! Blaine rose, fueled by another sudden onset of 'how dare you' rage. Puck had gotten pretty dang good at provoking those kind of reactions. "He isn't like that. Yeah, he's keeping the baby... and he wants nothing to do with me." More close-ups of Kurt's slow-moving lips flickered in and out of Blaine's mind. I don't need you. Knees nearly giving out on him, he collapsed onto the armchair once again.
"Dude, he gave you can out? Take it." Puck took his turn at an eyeroll. "What more could you want?"
Blaine answered shakily sure with, "I want him."
Puck gave him a look and Blaine couldn't begin to decipher it. Slowly, his features softened. "I think... for you, it's either the two of 'em of nada." Puck then sighed harshly, perhaps at the lack of a response from Blaine. "Come on, let's get out of here. You definitely need a beer in you and me? I'm feelin' generous enough to make that happen. Yo?"
"No, I need to figure this out." Blaine hunched forward again, restless. He kicked his feet under the chair, ankles crossed. He asked himself, "What are you going to do?" for the millionth time that evening. His response wasn't the answer. Go to him. That was what he wanted to do, now. He had no idea if Kurt would answer the phone if he called him or if he'd let him into his apartment if Blaine marched over there. He needed to talk to him, badly, so badly. Except, he couldn't bear the thought of upsetting Kurt. 'Be there for him' was another impulsive response. It too came with a but. You're not ready to be a father. What are you going to do, Blaine? Well, for starters, he was going to do exactly as he had been asked. It was all he could do.
"What's there to figure out? You knocked up some dude. He wants it, you don't." Puck hitched a thumb over his shoulder, his voice strained with impatience. "Seriously, let's go get trashed."
Blaine shook his head fervently. "I never said that," he tried to argue. Puck spoke over him.
"Oh, come on! You don't want a kid in your life right now. Do ya, huh? Huh?"
"No, but—"
"There are no 'buts.'" Instantly, Puck cooled down. "Except for the one you came in. Rookie mistake. Remind me to tell you all about the pull-out method."
"Get away from me, Puck."
"What? I ain't gonna whip it out or nothin'."
Blaine groaned tiredly, burying his face into his hands. Why, why, why was it too much to ask for extended time alone in his own apartment? Floorboards creaked as Puck paced one time around the coffee table. Blaine wished he could refuse to acknowledge the annoying presence of the roommate he had never asked for. If only all past attempts hadn't proved futile. Puck could never go undetected anywhere. He'd make for a terrible spy.
"You tell Sam yet?"
Blaine couldn't find a response to Puck's inquiry, neither physical nor verbal.
Puck scoffed. "You gonna? Blaine, he's your biggest bro. Call him."
Silence passed between them, the uncomfortableness about it familiar. It took several minutes before Blaine lifted his head up and blinked his eyes open. He wetted his lips once, his tongue darting out almost hesitantly before pressing into the inside of his pursed mouth. Mind fried, he could only state exactly what was on his mind (other than the repetitive chorus of oh, shit).
"I do need some time alone."
Puck laughed, the sound humorless and filled with disbelief. "Why? I know you, Blaine. You already know what you're going to do. Now, how about that drink?"
Blaine finally shouted a, "No." He pulled his wallet out and fished out a few dollar bills. A small slip of paper fell out and landed on the floor. "You go. Go have one for me, on me."
"Fine, whatever." Puck took the money. "More for me, then. Just get over that old bullshit already and call him, okay? Call Sam." Fed up, he echoed another frustrated "whatever" at Blaine's stubborn non-reply.
Of course, when he finally left, Puck slammed the door shut with too much force. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson could kiss their security deposit goodbye.
Blaine pushed a hand over the top of his frizzy-haired head. His mouth opened for a sigh, but out came a yawn. Too tired to remain in an upright position, he decided he had the capability of making at least one decision—and that was to drag his ass to bed. Before his feet could move, Blaine picked up what he'd dropped minutes ago. His breath uncontrollably hitched one time after another. It was a shimmery 'Spoonful of Sugar' card, the very one with Kurt's appointment information written sloppily on the creased back. He flattened a bent corner between two fingers.
Call him. Call Sam.
Anger put aside, he thought about it. He had been there for Sam, offering advice and lending an ear for every "I've made a huge mistake" conversation-starter. Best bros, indeed.
Up until Sam had drunkenly kissed him.
That's right. Sam had initiated the sloppy kiss. It'd lacked any kind of spark and hadn't been anything special for Blaine. If anything, the way Sam had panted into his face with gross Doritos breath had made him queasy. Maybe years ago, when his crush on Sam had been embarrassingly huge and fresh, Blaine would've felt something other than 'ew.' He was glad he hadn't; it'd been insulting how badly Sam had freaked out after The Kiss. Like, he'd freaked out way too much. Unnecessarily too much. He had given Sam space, quietly annoyed by the overreaction.
As per Sam, his desire to find the Love of His Life(tm) had been fueled solely by Blaine's apparently irresistible lips. Blaine hadn't expected Sam to then re-locate to another state just for a possibility of reconnecting with an ex-girlfriend. It'd been completely out of the blue, him needing to see if an old relationship that had been ended due a physical distance could be saved. Sam had told Puck, before knighting him as Blaine's replacement roommate without telling Blaine, that he was unhappy and bored with his NYC life. Sam had left with a quick goodbye to Blaine, eager for "real" love and a new adventure.
Blaine's stomach clenched guiltily. Not in any way that had to do with Sam, but with Kurt. He'd lie to him that night on the fire escape. He had referred to Sam as an ex-boyfriend and said he'd left him for a woman. Kind of true—ish. Blaine had wanted to connect with Kurt and he had, through one little lie after anther. I know how you feel, he'd told him. Kurt's hesitant smile and the sympathetic softness in his gorgeous eyes had sent a fire through Blaine's veins. I could love you, he'd known immediately. Give me the opportunity to love you. Kurt had done more than that.
You already know what you're going to do, Puck had said to him.
Blaine tucked the card back into his wallet.
[:::][:::][:::]
Hell hath no fury like a Rachel Berry scorned, Blaine was sure.
That was why he tip-toed into her classroom on the too-sunny Monday after the disastrous weekend he spent chugging homemade soda and hiding from Puck. He knew to be on alert. Rachel always called him on Sundays to go over her unnecessarily bloated schedule and repetitive lesson plans with him for the following week. She would also discuss what she'd need from him (hot water with lemon on certain days at specific times, when to fetch her her vaporizer, etc). He was aware she was abusing him as her TA, but he could never say no to her. She was the Rachel Berry! Also, her tantrums were scary. Anyway, she hadn't contacted him yesterday. Not by phone or e-mail, and that wasn't good. Kurt must've also spilled the beans on the pregnancy to her, too. Blaine was doomed.
Rachel was sitting at the desk in her classroom, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun and her bangs pinned back. She wore more make-up than usual; the harsh angles of her bronzed face from dramatic contouring made her look angry—ready to kill. Blaine gulped. She glared at him, her rosy beige lips twitching in an attempt not to snarl a frown at him and create wrinkles.
"I have mostly been 'barred' from speaking to you by his royal highness," she informed him while enunciating each word sharply. "So! I very much need for you to leave, please." Her fake, impatient smile was tacked on at the last minute and most unpleasant.
Surprised, he cleared his throat twice. "I'd like to stay."
"I'd like to have gotten a chance to show my best friend some tough love. He was almost back to normal, he was nearly Kurt again and now he's..." Blaine caught the smallest flicker of sadness and pity in her doe-like eyes before they narrowed in at him. "This arrangement is not going to work. I'm sure your brother can find someone else who'll graciously take you under their talented wing only for you to take advantage of their best friend."
He threw up both of his hands, his mouth opened in a gape of startled disbelief. What happened between him and Kurt on the fire escape was private for many reasons. Kurt had confided in Blaine as if they'd always known each other and he cherished every minute they had spent together. Blaine wasn't about to get into detail with her, but he would defend himself.
"I did not take advantage of Kurt. I like him, Ra—Ms. Berry, ma'am. I care for him, that's why I'm—" His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, a frown forming in the creases. "My brother? What does Cooper have to do with... Oh. Oh, my god. He didn't."
Rachel smoothed her hands along the sides of her leather pencil skirt as she stood up. She slid on her black glasses, the clear lenses in them plastic. Blaine didn't have the heart to tell her she looked like a wayward librarian. He couldn't really talk, though.
She seemed somewhat embarrassed as she said, "I won't get into the details of our deal." Rachel sighed. "I'd love nothing more than to tell you to get lost." He thought she already had. Luckily she interrupted him from speaking up. "People love me, Blaine. I am worshiped here as NYADA's finest vocal instructor. I'm a star. There are a lot of students who would literally kill to be my TA." She sighed again, but this time it sounded more like a whine. "That said, Kurt asked me to not treat you any differently. I guess your position is safe. For now."
Overwhelmed with hope, Blaine almost smiled. "Kurt, he doesn't... hate me?"
Rachel made a face, her eyes rolling upward and then quickly falling down to land on the metronome on her desk. She held her head up high and simply ignored his question. "By the way, don't ever call me ma'am again."
Oops, he'd broken one of the ten classroom commandments. They were posted on the door in Comic Sans with gold stars serving as bullets. Please, no autograph requests during class had recently been crossed out.
"And Blaine? Kurt's a real person with real feelings. Remember that."
Blaine scrunched his nose a little. "Of course," he agreed.
She nodded, still not looking at him. "Good," Rachel whispered.
The next day was way worse since Rachel refused to give him the time of day. He might as well have stayed at home because she went without acknowledging him once. Ms. Berry had stared through him with eerily blank eyes when he'd stopped her in a deserted hallway to ask about Kurt. Her behavior was especially unprofessional in the classroom. The frustration of it all wore Blaine down. At times, he had this urge to kick a chair.
On Wednesday, he waved a white flag and sent her a short e-mail at a quarter after five in the morning. He couldn't go through another day of her treating him like he was literally nothing, which was why he was "so very sick and unfortunately unable to make it in." Except, Blaine ended up scrambling to his classes when he realized he'd also have to skip tomorrow, too. Kurt's appointment was in the mid-morning and he had no idea how long they'd be there. Hoping Rachel wouldn't spot him anywhere at NYADA, he wore a pair of aviator sunglasses and let his hair go au naturel under a beanie (both accessories were "borrowed" from Puck, who often helped himself to anything of Blaine's).
Blaine couldn't sleep a wink that night. Unsurprisingly, too many demanding thoughts were stomping through his head about Kurt and the—the...
"Baby," he muttered into the darkness of his bedroom. Music was playing through headphones that were plugged into his iPhone. Both earbuds had already fallen out of his ears. You need to get used to that word. It sounded foreign to him, as if he weren't speaking English. "Baby," he repeated louder and then lowered his voice. "A baby. The baby. Kurt's baby... My baby... Our baby." Yep, it was definitely growing more foreign-ish as he continued babbling.
On the subway home, he'd almost sent Kurt a see ya in the mornin' text message. He had sat there, wondering if a smiley face would be "too much." Blaine had known better than to send it. He wanted to surprise Kurt tomorrow. He needed to show him he could take on the responsibility of the—of what they'd done. Shit. He'd just taken a step backwards.
"Baby," he said again sternly.
It drove him crazy, the fact that he wanted Kurt so much his heart ached to be near him again and yet... Blaine wasn't one hundred percent sure he could be a dad. Like, he had no idea how to parent! Blaine was barely out of his teens and about to be handed a tiny human to raise. All because of a defective condom. It wasn't fair.
"Is he worth it?" Puck had asked him one night. Was Kurt worth changing his entire life for?
Kurt was amazing and everything anyone could ever want in a guy—in a man: funny with a sense of a humor, charming to a T, kind, and smart. He was handsome and oh so very talented. Kurt E. Hummel was, like, a quadruple threat; NYADA had once put on a play he'd written specially for the school. Blaine couldn't believe Kurt was interested in him. Or had been interested in him. C'mon, Kurt was way out of his league. He could do better. Or could have done better. Blaine had fallen hard for him before the sex, the very sex that'd been the icing on the cake.
Yes, he was worth it.
"I don't usually do this." Hot breath tickling his ear.
"Have sex outside?" A hand finding its way under his rucked-up shirt, desperately rubbing over his heaving chest.
"Bottom." Kurt's moan cutting off whatever else he was about to say with Blaine kissing his neck, shy only at first.
Blaine shivered.
It hadn't felt like "just" sex. Kurt had to have realized it. They hadn't had much alone time since then, only a few minutes here and there where they were they were able to get in a couple of quick kisses between their flirty exchanges. He could still feel the wide stretch of Kurt's lips against his lips.
Blaine wasn't sure if he would stop himself from going through with it if he could go back in time. Maybe he'd warn himself to wear an extra condom or something.
Minutes before he would get out of bed, doubt crept in and left Blaine with an upset stomach. He couldn't lie there for any longer, his body as antsy as his mind.
Don't go.
Go.
Don't go.
You're going!
He had to. Blaine fell out of bed as if he'd been pushed and landed hard on his knees. It took him a moment to catch his breath. He shifted until he could lean against the side of the bed, his vision blurring and the urge to throw up increasing rapidly.
Today was the day he'd been waiting for.
And maybe the day he had been dreading, too.
No. Today was Kurt's 8-week ultrasound: a day to be celebrated and not ruined with second thoughts, even if he couldn't ignore them.
Blaine picked himself up off the floor and tiptoed into the bathroom. He took an extra long shower, his tense muscles grateful for the hot water. Since his hooded bathrobe had recently "gone missing," he wore a towel around his waist as he headed back to his bedroom. Blaine lingered in front of his walk-in closet, the door held open with a paperweight. He wanted to dress more... adult, but he wasn't sure... how (or if it were possible). He shook his head, tossing yellow suspenders over his shoulder. And no animal prints! Lips pursed, Blaine considered a three-piece suit. It was a must to look nice for Kurt. Be yourself. He sighed and eyed his bow tie drawer with a tiny smile. That he could do.
He looked the doctor's office up on Google Maps and decided to walk there instead of taking public transportation. Although it wasn't a short distance away, he was running early and figured it'd be a good way to clear his head.
Yeah, Blaine was running very early. He made it to Kurt's appointment with an hour and twenty-two minutes to spare. No worries, he preoccupied himself with some puzzles in various Highlights magazines. He used a broken red crayon to circle the differences between two "nearly" identical cartoon panels. He eventually spotted an issue of Vogue and flipped through it. Once he tired of that, Blaine logged into Facebook on his cellphone and scrolled through his news feed.
Kurt's appointment time arrived without Kurt. Feet planted on the floor, Blaine lifted his tush off the seat of his chair for better motion as he searched the busy waiting room for a familiar face. His mouth sagged into a disappointed frown (and it wasn't because a two-year-old had taken his crayon). Perhaps Mr. Hummel would be running fashionably late? Blaine folded his hands into his lap and he continued to wait... and wait...
And wait.
It took another half hour to drag by before his patience dwindled away to nothing. He soon found himself out in the hall, standing beside a tall potted plant. Blaine couldn't help but to feel a bit upset. Was Kurt screwing with him? Maybe he'd given him the wrong time or date. Whether he had done it on purpose or unintentionally, Blaine wasn't sure. For all he knew, Kurt could have taken it upon himself to make the decision for him.
No way. Kurt wouldn't have done that, he tried to reassure himself. Kurt wasn't like that, Blaine didn't think... No, don't do that. Blaine told himself to absolutely not focus on how much he didn't know about the hot near-stranger he had accidentally procreated with. He couldn't believe Kurt was giving him a choice and demanding he take his time deciding on how he wanted to handle the unexpected situation. To him, it had seemed as if Kurt had assumed he wouldn't want anything to do with them.
Blaine suddenly felt sick, panic setting in. There was a reason why Kurt hadn't shown to his OB appointment. What if something had happened to Kurt, something bad? What if...
He had to call Kurt. He had to call him now. Blaine had given him what he'd ask for, plus he had originally said Blaine could call him. 'I won't miss your call'? Too freakin' bad.
Kurt answered after seven terribly long rings that Blaine held his breath through. He first heard the rustling of sheets and then the low, hoarse sound of Kurt's sleepy voice.
"B'aine? What... Oh, god. I slept through my appointment? I slept through my appointment!"
Blaine couldn't hold back a sigh of relief or an apologetic tone in response to Kurt's panicked state. "You slept through your appointment," he confirmed.
"I can't believe I... I've never... My alarm didn't..."
"Hey. Hey, Kurt?" He bit his lip and smiled, waiting for Kurt to quiet before he spoke up again. "I'm here," he pointed out nervously.
Kurt's pause didn't last for nearly as long as Blaine thought it would. "You're there." He sounded breathless and farther away from the phone.
"I am." Blaine swallowed and decided to take a leap and stand his ground. He wouldn't take no for an answer. Um. Hopefully he wouldn't. "Can we still meet? Please, Kurt. I need to see you."
"Blaine..."
No, no, no.
"I'm here." Embarrassed by the tremor in his voice, Blaine let his head tip back. He prayed Kurt wouldn't find him pathetic. He wasn't above begging, not for this. For him and to him. If only he could get Kurt to rip off the "just a kid" label he'd unfairly given him. He couldn't only give Blaine a choice; he needed to give him a chance, too. "I listened to you. Maybe now you can listen to me?"
Another nail-biting pregnant pause. "I—I need to re-schedule the ultrasound. I can call you back?"
"No, wait. I'm here, right? Let me do that for you. This way, you won't have to wait forever on hold or anything. You can, uh, maybe use that time to get ready and we can, uh, maybe meet for coffee. Maybe?"
The reluctance on the other end was a knife to Blaine's gut. "I don't—"
"I'm here, Kurt!" He raised his voice, the desperate edge to it overwhelming to his own ears. Blaine flinched, ready for Kurt to hang up on him and change his phone number.
"Okay."
Blaine's eyelashes fluttered. "Okay?" His shoulders sagged when Kurt breathed out another soft, "Okay."
"Just, um. Don't make it for the morning. Afternoons work best for me, apparently. Like, mid-afternoon? I tend to... nap during lunch and I don't want to do this again."
Blaine had nodded throughout Kurt's mumbled request. "You got it." He gave Blaine the name and partial address of a nearby coffee shop, a yawn interrupting him.
"Sorry. I can get there by 11. How's that, is it okay for you?"
He laughed. "It's more than okay for me. I will see you then, Kurt."
"Okay," was Kurt's flat reply and Blaine had to echo once more with an upbeat inflection.
There were three people waiting in line at the receptionist's desk when he re-entered, a skip in his step. Blaine waited patiently, a goofy grin on his face. He couldn't lessen the giddiness of it if he tried. A pregnant woman had waddled in, obviously nearing the end of her third trimester. He gestured for her to cut in front of him.
Suddenly, Blaine couldn't stop picturing how Kurt would look when he started showing—would he carry high or low? Blaine imagined a winking Kurt rubbing his hands over a big ol' pregnant belly while wearing a t-shirt too small to completely cover up his protruding abdomen. The mental image gave him goosebumps and he didn't want to think about how his pants now felt slightly tighter.
Thanks to his timing and a last minute cancellation, he was able to re-schedule the ultrasound for later that day.
"Today's your lucky day," the secretary said to him.
Blaine ducked his head. "It really is."
Rather than riding an elevator down two floors, he opted to take the stairs. Once in the stairwell, his cellphone vibrated. He had sent Kurt a text message to let him know of the new appointment time. Blaine glanced down at the screen when it continued to move in his hand. He had an incoming call, and guessed it was either Kurt or Cooper. "For some reason," Blaine's darling brother was dodging his calls and not replying to any of his texts. He moved his thumb out of the way and was surprised to see it was Sam trying to reach him. Although he declined the call, he had actually considered answering. He'd call him back at another time; Blaine already had too much on his plate for one day.
Of course, Blaine arrived to the coffee shop first. He ordered for himself and Kurt, knowing his coffee order from the many times Rachel would "ask" him to go on a 'caffeine run' for them. He also nabbed a few white chocolate macadamia nut biscotti and scones. He chose a table near the door. While the cozy café had a relaxing atmosphere, Blaine's hand shook as he stirred cinnamon into his hot beverage.
Kurt set foot into the coffeehouse at exactly 11 o'clock, his hair brushed but not styled and his face unshaven. The dark circles around his eyes were worrisome. Gaping at the sight of freckles standing out starkly on Kurt's pale face, Blaine dropped half of a biscotti into the coffee he'd been dunking it in. He bolted up, breathless as he pulled out a chair for Kurt.
"Thank you for—" he started to say as Kurt uttered, "Sorry for—" They abruptly stopped talking at the same time, the two of them engaged half-heartedly in an awkward staredown. Kurt wouldn't drop his derriere onto his seat until Blaine sat back down first.
"You don't have to do that. Apologize. It's not necessary." Blaine nudged the plate of pastries and twice-baked cookies toward Kurt. "Did you get my message about the opening for 3? If we can't make it, then they won't be able to fit us in until the end of next week." He flushed under Kurt's wide-eyed stare. "Is there something on my face?"
"Oh, no. No." Kurt's own cheeks were also tinged pink. He looked down from Blaine to the non-fat mocha sitting in front of him. "Oh. Is this for me?"
Blaine gave him a warm smile. "Yes, it's—are you still drinking coffee? Oh, god. I totally forgot. I'm such a dummy." His face twisted into a wince. "I can get you decaf. I'm going to get you decaf." Kurt caught the sleeve of his shirt and held steady to keep Blaine from bouncing away.
"Blaine, it's fine. Please, no decaf. Nothing gets between me and caffeine, not even..." He didn't let go of Blaine until Blaine gently rested his fingers over Kurt's hand. Kurt pulled his arm in close to his body. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I..." Think so? No, ya dumbass! That answer would only send Kurt storming out of the shop. Then he'd been lucky to ever see him again. Blaine cleared his throat and deepened his voice for a clear, "Yes."
Kurt didn't look like he believed him and Blaine couldn't blame him. Sipping on his coffee, Kurt hummed a noncommittal noise.
"Are you getting enough sleep?" Blaine blurted, worried about how uncharacteristic Kurt's disheveled appearance was. Kurt's mouth tightened.
"I'm pregnant," he stated in a defensive manner that befuddled Blaine.
Is that a yes or no? was at the tip of his tongue. Blaine agreed with a slow nod and, "You are."
Kurt leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. The color of his socks matched the teal Vivienne Westwood hoodie he wore, its zipper down far enough to make Blaine tip forward and wonder if Kurt was wearing anything under it.
Would you quit ogling him? Blaine reprimanded himself silently. Kurt deserved respect from him.
"Y—you said something that made me think..."
Kurt's lips curved into a faint smile. Oh boy, did that make Blaine's stomach flutter. "Was it 'I'm pregnant'?"
"You said we weren't friends," Blaine continued while trying and failing not to laugh. Two of his fingers tapped against the edge of the table. He grew serious. "I'd like to change that. I mean, it's gotta change."
"Right. If you're serious about raising this child with me, we're going to need to have boundaries." Kurt's eyes took more of an interest on the cardboard sleeve around his cup of coffee than on Blaine. He sounded detached, almost indifferent. "A romantic relationship between us would have to be off the table. I don't want us getting involved in that way just because I'm pregnant. Something like that, it dooms a relationship from the start. We'd have to co-parent as friends, nothing more."
Blaine's mouth had gone dry. He would prove Kurt differently with action. "I am serious," he insisted. "I—I..." He scooted his chair in closer to the table. He wouldn't continue with what he had to say until Kurt stopped averting eye contact; once made, Blaine held on to it fiercely. "I am going to be, like, your new BFF. Anything you want or need, I'm here for you. You can share everything with me, and Kurt? I'd like it if you did." He extended his hand out to Kurt, palm upward. "We are," he promised in a whisper, "in this together."
Kurt nodded his head, the straight line of his lips wobbling as he took hold of Blaine's hand. His thumb stroking over Blaine's knuckles was all it took for Blaine to forget how to breathe for a moment.
Lungs, what lungs? Oxygen, what's that?
Still feeling unsettled, he squinted at Kurt. "Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?"
Moment ruined. Kurt drew his hand back hastily. "I am. I do." He shrugged his shoulders and then straightened them by pinching his shoulder blades together. "Usually. It's just..." He shook his head and reached for a caramel pecan scone. "Nothing."
"What?" Blaine cocked his head. Under the table, his foot nudged Kurt's. "Come on, what is it? You can tell me. BFF, remember?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, sucking at a patch of sweet stickiness on the side of his thumb. "It is nothing. I had a stupid dream."
"If it's bothering you, then it's not nothing and it's definitely not stupid."
He took a large bite of the scone. "Alright, fine." Kurt talked around the food in his mouth; usually a lack of etiquette was a major turn off for Blaine. Yet, rather than finding it unattractive, he wanted to lick the crumbs off Kurt's mouth. "I had this dream where nothing came up on the sonogram. It was all black and—and empty. Like, I guess the blood work had been wrong and I'd never been pregnant." Kurt squirmed uncomfortably. "I woke up and... I don't know, the dream had kind of irked me a little. I didn't fall back asleep until probably an hour before I was supposed to meet you."
Blaine searched Kurt's face as he inquired, "Was I there?"
"I was—" Kurt's troubled gaze flicked down as he picked up a napkin and dabbed it at the corners of his mouth. "In the dream, I was... It'd felt disappointing, like I was being held down and smothered by disappointment." He balled the napkin up. "There's always a chance you could get out of this."
"Hey," Blaine chastised in shock. "Don't say that. Like you said, it was only a dream." He brought his chair around to Kurt's side of the table, its legs screeching against the floor. He patted Kurt's fist and then gave it an encouraging squeeze. "And like I said, I'm here for you. Come what may, Kurt."
Kurt's eyelashes glistened. Blaine expected to see a glimmer of hope in those beautiful blue eyes. Instead, sadness lingered there. "You're here for me," he stated and didn't look any less deflated. His face pulled down in concern.
Blaine wasn't sure who the concern was for.
[:::][:::][:::]
As it turned out, Kurt was not wearing anything under that hoodie. They'd headed to Kurt's apartment so he could use the two hour gap before his re-scheduled appointment to his advantage by freshening up with a shower ("A much-needed shower," Kurt had grumbled, running a hand along his stubbly chin).
"You don't have to come back with me," he'd told Blaine after they had thrown their empty cups into a recycle bin at the coffee shop.
Blaine had insisted on it and now, here they were. Kurt shed off the hoodie as he strolled toward his bedroom. Blaine longed to follow him; to come up snug behind Kurt and grab hold of those naked hips once more. He craved the taste of—
Friends, nothing more.
Shh. Temptation was but a fleeting thought. He dragged out a sigh, stepping around an ottoman. Blaine stood in front of a window, the one that led out onto the fire escape. Although he had agreed to Kurt's terms of a "strictly" platonic relationship, it wasn't as if he could snap his fingers and turn his feelings for Kurt off. Blaine had already made enough promises to Kurt during their little coffee meet-up. Words, no matter how heartfelt, weren't going to work; they weren't enough. He would show Kurt how supportive he could be and Blaine had seven months to wow him (in more ways than wowing his pants off—he'd proved himself there).
Anxiety regarding the future perched itself on Blaine's shoulder and hounded him. Midterms were coming up, along with Spring Break. He mulled over his involvement in the UGTA program; Blaine liked the lot of students enrolled in Rachel's classes, even though many of them sucked up to him as if that'd earn them a better grade or his phone number (Rachel had said she wasn't worried because he was too oblivious of their advances to play favorites). He worried about his commitment to them, seeing as how he'd been absent for the past two days. He had a presentation due tomorrow and he hadn't worked on it since Kurt's pregnancy bombshell. Despite Kurt telling him he didn't need any money from him, Blaine wanted to find a job and contribute to Kurt's office visit co-pays and his outrageously high deductible. Staring out the window, he lost track of time.
"You look like you're about to fall over," Kurt remarked from behind Blaine. Thanks to concealer and a close shave, he now appeared less zombie-esque. Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, not liking the slow throb at his temples. Kurt had blow-dried his hair and wore it swept upward from his face. Blaine hadn't even heard the sound of a blow dryer. "You okay?"
He smiled. Like Kurt's, it didn't meet his eyes. "Before... this, did you want kids?"
"Someday, yeah." Kurt sat down on the couch, holding a pair of black boots that had an all-over print of metallic gold skulls. "Adam and I agreed to wait until after we were married and once it felt right to the both of us, he'd carry first."
"'First,'" he repeated. Blaine lowered his hand from his face. "So you want more than—?"
"Blaine, can we not?" Kurt slipped his feet into the pull-on boots.
He sat down beside Kurt, his fingers laced together in his lap. "I love kids," he said with a dash of pep. "I always knew I wanted them someday, too."
"Yeah," Kurt muttered distractedly on a breathy exhale. He touched Blaine's wrist, angling it slightly for a better look at the time on his watch. "We'd better get going. I cannot be late! I don't need two strikes against me in the 'unfit parent' category."
Blaine choked on a laugh when he realized Kurt was serious. "You had a rough night and slept through one appointment. It's not like you missed it because you were massively hungover from too many rum and cokes last night and now you're about to show up there with two lit cigarettes in your mouth."
"Why two lit cigarettes?"
He scoffed as if he figured Kurt should've known the answer. "One for you, one for the baby. Of course."
"Of course." Kurt's smile returned, more genuine and bearing a sliver of embarrassment on Blaine's behalf. He excused himself and got up to grab a sweater out of his room.
"You ready?" Blaine asked, waiting by the door by the time Kurt returned.
Kurt responded with a deep inhale and nothing more.
[:::][:::][:::]
yo ive herd some crazy rumors?
ABOUT YOU dude call me
Blaine rolled his eyes at the text messages he had received from Sam. He responded with a one-worded reply (a vague "later") and then turned his cellphone off.
"We can take a seat now," Kurt murmured to him. Once he finished checking in with the receptionist, he touched Blaine's arm to gain his attention. They walked toward a pair of empty chairs, his fingers not leaving the crook of Blaine's elbow until they sat down.
Blaine studied the profile of Kurt's face as he stared out across the waiting room. "Is this your first sonogram?" he asked, unsure about how Kurt's initial evaluation with Dr. Samujh had gone or how often prenatal ultrasounds were performed. His knowledge was limited to what he'd seen on TV and in the movies. Blaine at least knew female and male pregnancies weren't handled exactly the same due to the "slight" anatomical differences.
Kurt nodded erratically, his lips disappearing between his teeth.
"You're nervous," Blaine noticed aloud.
"And you're not?" Kurt fixed him with a stare. He crossed one arm over his chest, the other tucked against his mid-section. He lowered his voice, nearly hissing. "Sonograms are important, Blaine. I shouldn't have to explain that to you."
Blaine's heart wedged its way up into his throat, cold dread pouring over him. He was already ruining this. "I am," he whispered. "I'm nervous, too."
It wasn't until they were crammed into a chilly exam room when Kurt spoke up for the first time in fifteen minutes and said, "I didn't mean to snap at you." He sat up on the padded table, using a hand to hold his unbuttoned shirt closed. Blaine's offer of his cardigan had gone mostly ignored (Kurt had... snorted? Some of his reactions were thoroughly confusing Blaine).
"It's okay."
"It's not, but thank you."
It wasn't long before an ultrasound technician came in and shook their hands, introducing herself as Debbie. She verified Kurt's full name and date of birth, then asked him if he had a full bladder for the procedure. "It helps us get a better picture," she explained. Debbie's finger slid all over the screen of the tablet in her hand. "Let's see, Mr. Hummel. You are here today for a fetal ultrasound."
"I—I'm eight weeks pregnant," he mumbled. Blaine barely heard him. "I'll be 9 weeks in two days."
Debbie set the computer down on a counter before she washed her hands. "Oh, so you know your date of conception?"
He and Blaine were quick to exchange a look and share very small smiles. "I am very familiar with the date of conception."
"It was his birthday." Blaine winked at Kurt, pushed up onto the balls of his feet.
Their technician plucked two gloves out of a dispenser on the wall. She opened and then closed her mouth, apparently deciding to keep any comments to herself. She asked Kurt to lie back as she readied the medical equipment and grabbed a warmed bottle of ultrasound gel.
Blaine frowned with his eyebrows when Kurt didn't move. He looked uncomfortable, as if he wanted to be anywhere else. For someone who was happy about his pregnancy, he wasn't acting like it. Stepping in closer and then as close as he could get, Blaine stroked his shoulder. Kurt glanced at him, his mouth forming a circle.
He gave the pillow waiting for Kurt's head a purposeful pat. "I'm ready if you're ready."
Once he had reclined and worked his pants open to push them slightly down his hips, Kurt's arms fell down to his sides. Blaine stared at his taut stomach—no telltale "bump" yet. As his gaze traveled up to peek at Kurt's chest, he could feel Kurt's eyes on him and blushed.
"Sorry."
Debbie situated herself on the opposite side of the table from Blaine. She warned Kurt before squirting the gel onto his abdomen. "Okay! Let's see what's going on in here." She moved the transducer back and forth across his slippery belly and then added more gel.
Blaine held his breath. He went from observing the monitor closely to watching Kurt. Kurt was staring straight up at the ceiling. He clenched his jaw when Blaine gently nudged his arm.
"Alright, guys. I can definitely confirm a pregnancy," she announced. Kurt gasped, his hand darting out to snatch one of Blaine's and grip it tight. Debbie continued excitedly; the sight of Kurt's "birthday present" seemed to liven her up. "You were spot on, Kurt. I'd say you're 8 weeks and 5 days." Kurt's eyes filled with tears. He sniffled, his mouth quivering.
"Is that the—the heart, the pulsing thing?" Blaine asked, leaning across Kurt and pointing at the screen. He nudged Kurt again, surprised that he wouldn't even take a single glimpse at the blurry images on the monitor.
"Certainly is. Do you see it, Kurt?" He turned his head toward her, letting go of Blaine's hand. "Here's the sac, here's the baby... And this flicker? That's the heartbeat. Now, it's too soon for us to hear anything. By your next appointment, you should get to listen in." Debbie paused multiple times to save pictures and print them. "Measurements are within normal range... Placenta is normal and relaxed... Everything looks exactly as it should, guys. Congratulations."
Blaine could see that Kurt's eyes were closed and probably had been for a while. He cleared his throat once the technician was finished cleaning the blue goop off Kurt's stomach. "Thank you, Debbie. Could, uh, could we please have a moment alone?"
"Of course." She handed him several sonogram pictures she had printed out for them. "We're all finished, so come on out when you're done."
He waited until he heard the door click shut behind her. Blaine moved around to where Debbie had been sitting and hunched down. "Hey, you. Open your eyes, Kurt." He held a glossy photo in front of Kurt's pinched face. "I promise you, nothing's wrong or missing."
"I can't."
"Yes you can. This isn't a dream, it's real."
Kurt's eyes slid open and he blinked at Blaine. "You're crying," he stated as he reached to cup Blaine's face. His thumb swept through the wetness on his cheek. Blaine hadn't noticed.
"We've got a baby and it's all normal and healthy in... there. In you. These are happy tears."
Kurt made a sobbing noise. He threw an arm around Blaine, pulling him into a hug. "You probably think I'm being stupid, but I'm not used to things going right in my life. I really thought..."
"Shh. I would never think that. Would you just look at how right this is?" He traced his finger in the shape of a heart around the grainy image of the tiny fetus. Kurt melted against him, mesmerized by the grayish oblong blob. Blaine kissed Kurt on the brow, his chest filling with warmth. "This is all ours, Kurt. We're having a baby."
[:::][:::][:::]