A/N:
I hope you still love this story. I do.
xo M
Tears Stained
Chapter Six: Closer
To Kurt, waking up comes all too easy the next morning.
And really, you cannot call it morning at all.
In fact, you can barely call it the next day.
Kurt wonders, too, if you can really call him awake. Lying there, staring into the dark of a room feeling cold, making Kurt want to hold Blaine closer still. Which right now is not humanly possible. Not that Kurt cares much for humanly possible today.
Were they sitting in a tree somewhere, Kurt is sure he would look like one of those monkey babies hanging onto someone they trust will keep them safe, prevent them from getting lost somewhere between the endless seeming mass of trees.
Anyone walking into this room right now, anyone that is except for probably Blaine's mother, would take one look at them and think Kurt, lying there eyes staring without focus into the dark is the one in distress, the one searching out the emotional hold the warm body next to him spends.
Only, the other body, Blaine's body, is not that warm at all. And Kurt not the one being held.
Holding Blaine close, the night is spent well, better than well, Kurt would never even think to dispute that.
Any minute holding Blaine in his life has only ever been one worthwhile and treasured.
Still, Kurt cannot help but wish the time spent desperately clutching Blaine to his chest in the backseat of Santana's car, and before on the ground of an empty, dark parking garage - the only sound around him gasps and the almost mockingly slow dying sound of the Warblers' retreat - had been spent making out, maybe, making love, like that time between late afternoons and early evenings has been spent so often in the past two months.
An almost always empty house allowing them to let each other in completely. To let the soft sounds flow freely, sounds drawn delicately from each other's souls.
Making love, making the day, each day, count as something good, wonderful, brilliantly beautiful.
Making love in the soothing twilight streaming, almost every single day, without fail, into this very room they are now in - the days having been surprisingly full of sunshine and warmth, surprisingly void of November rain and the white of snow, so typically covering the ground and reflecting the orange glow of streetlamps at night, this time of year.
But this autumn, this winter has been light and warm, and maybe it is just them feeling that way, and maybe, some days, they like to think it is because of them, because they love each other that the world is not just now but forever a warmer place.
The clear skies have been connecting the hours of dark and light in such seamless ways, Kurt doubts he would ever have noticed the time of glow at all weren't it for the windows looking out into the western sky, letting in the westward light, in those late hours of the day, filling the air surrounding them up with warmth, sun and shine; causing the windows to appear to be made of translucent gold, if you look at them from the right angel.
And it have been "…some of the most wonderful, magical hours in my life, lying here with you," as Kurt had told Blaine one day, lying there in their afterglow, brightened by fusing with that of the day itself. No night, not even the longest, coldest and darkest nights of winter, could ever seem truly void of light on those days. After those hours, the light and warmth had stayed with them until the next morning, the next sunrise, even when apart.
The best part, to Kurt still is that they have discovered it together, Blaine for years not having spent as much time in this room as he now does with Kurt. Blaine likes to think it is not because the house is empty, void of his parents, most of the time, but because "With you I can be happy, anywhere." It had been a whispered confession during the Christmas break, which Blaine had almost entirely spent with Kurt, Burt and Carole, while Rachel had insisted Finn this year not celebrate Christmas at all, as a practice run for the years to come of them living together.
Kurt and Blaine had sat at the dinner table one day with Burt and Carole, joking about "poor Finn" this, "poor Finn" that, and "I never thought he would agree. How did she get him to agree?"
Burt had chimed in, "So what are you two going to make each other give up?"
Kurt and Blaine had just looked at each other and after a second of trying to look serious burst into laughter.
Burt and Carole had both looked on confused but quickly begun smiling at the boys' obvious amusement at the question. Their laughs had always been infectious, just as the smiles they have sported more often than not ever since the day they got together.
Blaine had finally said, "We talked about it, and Kurt is getting an extra huge closet."
"Yes," Kurt had smiled even more brightly, "and Blaine is getting two large bookcases."
"Really? There is nothing you want to change about each other?" Carole had asked eyes slightly widened, more adoring than actually surprised.
Eskimo-kissing Kurt, Blaine had answered, "All I've ever wanted to change about Kurt was for him to lose that pain and fear others had forced into him."
Eskimo-kissing Blaine back still, before leaning in for a real kiss Kurt had replied, "Yes, same here. And, Baby, you have done an amazing job."
"You too," Blaine had answered leaning in for another kiss.
Memories of love, and Kurt finds himself bizarrely grateful Smythe finally did show his real character to Blaine, new fears having had begun to build in Kurt that ...Smythe might be able to take this kind of love away from us.
The room, pitch black and Blaine's body colder than usual, colder than it should ever be, shivers running through him again and again, it is the first time Kurt feels discomfort with Blaine in his arms in these four walls. And it is a bitter reminder all this is far from over yet. He has turned friends against us, has tried to drown us in new pain.
But most of all it is the pain he feels wracking Blaine's body tonight that has his own skin running cold. That has the tears, silently rolling down Kurt's face, feeling hotter today than Kurt can remember them ever having felt. Except perhaps for... that day.
Another day altogether, in another hospital altogether then too. A specialists' clinic in California. And the weather had been boiling, but Kurt had not had slept in days back then, not really.
What he remembers as for the first time in his life he had lain awake a whole night, with his mother, in a hospital bed, watching for her breathing, only to collapse for a couple of hours the following day in his dad's arms, sleep unnerving and full of nightmares to his defenseless feeling mind.
His body small his mind had been too big, too vast to find the obviously corresponding thoughts, the answers that adults around him had kept asking to hear.
So eight years old he had made a choice, a choice that had honed a skill in him he now suspects has gotten him through the worst of bullying until he could find a home again, in Blaine, in Blaine's arms. That kind of home he had not really known anymore since the day his mother had died.
It had been the choice to ignore all the noise made around him, and to focus, on her, her alone, "Mummy!" She had been the only one he had talked to, that whole stay at the clinic. And anyone you could have asked back then would have told you it was because as Kurt had heard said about himself often those days, "The boy is shy," "The boy is scared."
They had not understood that it had been focus, determination to be there with, be there for his mother, who had suffered long enough already that had him quiet, not wanting to waste time in endless, meaningless conversations with strangers.
He had known their time with his mother was short, he had been able to read it on Burt's face, devastatingly clear.
So caressing a strand of her hair, Kurt had lain there those nights, holding her, whispering, "I am here, Mummy. Love you," never more asleep than awake.
And if you would try and talk to Burt about that stay in California he would tell you about the one thing he found comfort in, in those days.
"His grip was so strong, eight years old, just turned eight, and his little hands wound so tightly around one of mine in his sleep. His body was so tiny in my arms, but then I knew how strong he truly was,…already back then,…and that, as long as I would be there to give him something, someone to hold on to, we would be okay."
Carole had sat there nodding, the day Burt had told her this story, himself in tears, just as Carole. And Burt had told Carole more, had told her about those other years.
The years in which Kurt had not felt like he could do that anymore, find hold in his father's arms. And Burt had not known how, just how to reach out. And it had been both of them who had suffered, silently. It is still both of them who, to this day, don't really know why.
It will be some more years, until they will talk about it. In fact, it will be the day that Kurt comes to him, and tells Burt that Blaine has asked him to start a family together that Burt will remind Kurt how strong he has been all his life, and that he does know, so well, how to be a source of love to others.
And Burt will be the one wearing the proudest smile, almost two more years from then, holding his grandchild for the first time.
But tonight is about another first - none so warming, and beautiful.
Because…for the first time since they have gotten together Kurt finds himself lying awake, wishing, willing the hours lying alone in the dark with Blaine to pass…faster.
When the clock shows him 6:10am, Kurt decides it is time to try for some damage control.
He cannot let Blaine see him like this.
Okay…I could. I have. On other days, he finds himself remembering, with a smile he certainly did not wear that day when yet another totally different first time happened: waking up face to face with Blaine's camera.
"BLAINE!" Kurt had scurried pulling grabbing at the covers to pull them over his head.
But Blaine had been quicker, one hand pulling the sheets off both of them, the other still on the release button of his camera.
Thinking back now, Kurt can still see the grin taking over Blaine's features in record time, when both of them had remembered they had slept naked, and what had led to that the night before.
"Too late, the gorgeous gloriousness of your bed hair has already been eternalized," Blaine had chimed, grin still firmly in place.
Kurt remembers rolling his eyes as he had flopped back into the pillows that day, voice stern but smile already just as big as his boyfriend's, "Creep."
"Because I want aaaaaall of the world to know how beautiful you are?"
"Blaine! That photo…."
"Photos," Blaine had corrected with a smirk that Kurt, then starring at the ceiling, had still seen that day out of the corner of his eye.
Another eye-role and then Kurt had said in a stern tone, "Those photosssss, are not leaving this room."
And then there had been a shift on the mattress, and in the next second Blaine hovering above him.
Kurt had let out an undignified moan as he had felt Blaine's half-hard cock resting against his abdomen…but what really had done it, had had Kurt's breathing turn from moan into panting against Blaine's lips, hovering right above his own - not even two inches apart - had been the heat of Blaine's whole body pulsating against all of his own.
His breath had hitched completely in his throat when his gaze had moved from Blaine's lips to Blaine's eyes and seen them glazed over in the way he knew meant only ever one thing, Blaine was feeling it too, this…heat, seemingly pooling in his eyes, giving a glow, special, unique, only ever there to be found, giving the hazel an almost golden glow, when Blaine is looking at Kurt, feeling their love pulsing between them, bridging spaces, no matter how big with a connection their skin not even having to touch for it to be felt, deeper, real deep.
Since that morning, not long ago at all, but appearing that way in their memories already – with everything that has happened since – many pictures have been taken.
Pictures showing looks stolen at each other over shoulders, heads resting on pillows, eyes closed, or open and full of sleep, full of adoration, some even capturing a glimpse of that glow, in hazel or blue, shimmering clear.
All of them full of love, sometimes, yes, sometimes mixed with playful, and carefully crafted, sparks of annoyance, never looking earnest enough to be taken entirely serious, or to dominate the picture.
They share a real collection by now, of pictures of both of them…in love…with each other.
Mhm, eyelids heavy, Kurt allows his eyes a brief break from staring into the dark of the room, thinking of all those pictures, all those happy memories made right here, not all but a lot of them, right in this room, this bed.
I want nothing more than for this to be a lazy morning of taking silly pictures… together.
Thinking these last word his eyes already drift open again, too soon, much too soon.
And there it is, still, the dark, void of the warmth he carries in that to be found behind his eyes - where thoughts warmed by hope and dreams fueled by love promise safety.
But when you are Kurt, reality is hard to keep out, because Kurt knows of the dangers of doing so.
And the thought that comes, faced with reality, hurts…stings cold.
Not is about being serious, being responsible…how could I…How could Kurt have fun today? How could Kurt, today of all days, feel anything related to joy in a way untainted?
A Kurt, having been hurt less in the past, that Kurt, he would instantly have known better. For this, our Kurt, this hurt Blaine's Kurt, everything about this day has the feel of a fight, waiting to be fought.
It is hard for Kurt to remember that even with one or both of them hurt, they, them, Kurt and Blaine, neither is alone anymore with his fights. Neither is, has to be, alone in this.
Ever since they began sharing their lives, as friends, as lovers, things have become possible, simply … by daring to think them.
For the first time not only nightmares but dreams have insisted on crossing the line into reality.
And Kurt's first instinct too often still remains to push them away, push them back without ever registering what is coming his way. Conditioned to expect pain the love too often is still hard to make out. But lately, in just these last couple of weeks, more often than not, with Blaine in his arms, he does not - he allows the new, takes chances and risks, scary, for himself, for and with Blaine…for love.
And then Kurt is smiling.
It is not easy to achieve, that smile, on this day, but it is still even more impossible to hold back.
I am sure Blaine will want a picture with the eye-patch.
And he has never dreamed of a pirate boyfriend himself, but Blaine loves turning fear and pain into something to smile maybe even laugh at,…one day. And Kurt wants that for both of them, to be able to quite literally look back at this and be fine.
He gets up to snatch the camera from the nightstand on Blaine's usual side of the bed, which Kurt somehow ended up sleeping on tonight, or rather not sleeping on, entirely focused on holding Blaine close.
Blaine steers, a little, as Kurt's warmth shifts, but Kurt knows the camera well enough to operate it with one hand, so moves his left hand back to rest on Blaine's chest.
Kurt feels a jolt of pain surge through his stomach, as Blaine instantly settles back into quiet, both of Blaine's hands finding Kurt's on his chest, Kurt wondering how often Wes…how many nights Wes had held Blaine…a sobbing, shivering Blaine before they had found out this works.
Kurt has never been more grateful… to have Wes to call a friend, that Blaine has Wes to call a friend.
And the word does not seem nearly enough when it comes to Wes either way.
Click.
It is a soft sound, as always - echoing only in Kurt's thoughts.
Blaine will find the picture weeks later, among others, after having them developed old-school.
There is part of it, the process, that always reminds Blaine of times that in his mind, in his memories, still feel happier than anything he has with his family now. Things, Blaine, feels will always be worth holding on to.
And a couple of months from now, sometime around their second Halloween as a couple, Kurt will begin to tease him, will then keep it up for years to come with astonishing stamina, that he has "… never seen a cuter pirate in my life."
And Blaine lets him, answering with playful glares, and sweet pecks on lips, followed by eye-rolls. Knowing it is not about the teasing at all, isn't for fun, or to annoy him. Knowing it is Kurt's way of still apologizing for having to be saved from bullies from a school with anti-bullying rules.
Another Halloween, far, far in the future, Blaine will try to pull of the pirate look for real, it is the first time Kurt sees Blaine wearing eye-liner, but not the last. And it is surprising, and Kurt cannot help but think surprisingly hot!
That Halloween the evening will begin with them not even making it out of the door of their apartment, as Kurt will fall over laughing on the high heels he has no practice wearing at all, "That wig, Oh My Gosh, Baby!" and bang his head lightly at a table counter. And the evening will go on and end between the sheets, that is after Kurt, sitting in Blaine's lap, Blaine holding an icepack to the back of Kurt's head, whispers, "Seriously though, that, when we thought we had to be extra careful with each other, because you were hurt, and were hurting, and I was too, that is when we started getting really good at making each other come so…," Blaine will kiss him so hard then, that they will both topple over the side of the couch, and end up a laughing mess on the floor, this time together, and safe and sound… and whole.
Yes, they will make it to the bedroom, that day, between the sheets, much earlier than planned.
Their clothes won't.
But those are memories still to be made.
Kurt, careful not to take rest much needed, from Blaine, carefully places the camera back on the nightstand, after having watched Blaine sleep, through the lense, just for a moment, literally unable to resist, utterly forgetting he even was holding the camera at all.
His heart beats impossibly fast as he looks back from the nightstand to Blaine, already beginning to fear the view through the lense might have been deceiving, distorting the details that are the thing that really makes reality.
But there it still is the peacefulness Kurt had hoped for all night. Right there. For the first time in hours.
So he stays a couple more minutes than he had intended to, right where he is, breathing in Blaine's scent, deep, as to take some with him when he will get up to get ready for the day already too long, in a moment.
Taking in Blaine's for once this night truly peaceful looking features Kurt is still unable to believe his luck in being allowed to feel this love, not having to feel around for it in the dark anymore, the dark so much of the universe seems to be made up off.
Eventually he moves away, places one of the heavier pillows into Blaine's arms then sneaks off to the bathroom - on his way grabbing the overnight bag of the floor by Blaine's desk.
Moisturizing might take away some of the all too obvious tiredness, he thinks he might just about be able to keep out of his eyes, if he tries harder than he actually feels able to any time soon today, everything heavy with the lack of sleep.
Kurt does not admit it to himself in the early hours of that day, but really, it is not tiredness.
It is exhaustion, cold, sharp, brutal - impossible too, to cover up with those who love him. They see right through the mask, when they look closely, which Burt has made a habit off, ever since last year's death threat.
And Kurt actually does know that already, has had a talk about it with his dad, about letting him in. "I love you so much, Kiddo. I don't want to force my way in. But I will if I have to, to be able to protect you. So please…I want to be there for you. I love you, Kiddo."
There will be another talk today.
The bathroom is dark when Kurt enters, already doubting his decision to leave Blaine's side.
The tiles are cold under his feet. It is a momentary shock, maybe slight discomfort…but nothing more than one of those fleeting moments.
What Kurt will still remember vividly of this morning a long time from now is the taste of Blaine's lips laced with sugar and cinnamon.
Of course, if you would tell him this, right now, as he, shivering, steps deeper into the darkness of Blaine's bathroom – the frosted glass keeping out even the light of the stars, so clear in a sky left untouched by a nearly new moon – he would not believe you a single word.
All that could go wrong in the next hours is lying heavy on his mind, clouding his senses.
Kurt, still only in his boxers, feels the next shiver reaching deep under his skin – paralyzing him in this moment, leaving him defenseless against the pain surging through his every vein, piercing cold.
And while this night slowly turns into morning there is a thought Kurt tries to hide, even from himself, maybe most of all from himself…
It does not change the fact though, that deep down he knows it to be true, knows that it is not fabric that is missing from his skin, not material made to keep his own body heat close to him, but…Blaine.
The warmth of his healthy, happy boyfriend clinging to him as they climb out of bed together and settle on the small seat in front of this mirror, or the one at Kurt's home, more often the latter one, …together.
Blaine in the morning often not even allowing the thought of letting go, simply tightening his arms around Kurt's waist, chest pressed close against Kurt's back, warmth, Blaine's warmth flooding all of Kurt's body as Blaine's hands come to rest on his lower abdomen, giving Kurt all the freedom to move his arms as he pleases while Blaine watches him apply all kinds of skin care products.
It had taken some time for Kurt to get used to doing his moisturizing routine with Blaine right there, studying Kurt's every move with love in his eyes, longing sometimes that Kurt had only come to understand as after weeks Blaine had worked up the courage to ask Kurt if...
"Would it be weird, I mean, I…um…." Blaine had not known how to ask.
"It's okay, just…just ask," Kurt had replied with that soft smile of his that never fails to reassure Blaine, and that is the first thing he begins to actively miss as soon as they are forced to be apart more than a day.
With that one smile from Kurt, reassuring and loving, things had suddenly been easy. Easy to think, easy to say, and now, ever since that day, what happened next has become part of their shared routine:
"I love your hands, Kurt. Your…your touch on my skin. Would you…?"
And Kurt had smiled wider in understanding and nodded happily, "Yeah."
So now at least twice a week, and utterly regardless of time of day, Kurt and Blaine sit down together and Kurt caresses Blaine's features with fingertips exploring every inch of skin on Blaine's face ever anew, never getting entirely enough himself.
And Blaine studies, commits to memory, every single gentle stroke off Kurt's fingertips applying creams to his skin.
They both cannot really explain, but it is one of their favorite things to do together now. Maybe after all the years apart, not knowing that the other existed, doubting that love could exist for them, at all, the loving touches are a way, their way of making a past etched into their whole bodies' skin theirs to share.
Loving, gentle, caring touches and gazes, found in eyes open wide, means so much, to both of them.
There had been that one time when Blaine had, opening his own eyes in the middle of Kurt's gentle ministrations, caught Kurt with his eyes closed, studying Blaine's smile with the gentlest tracing motions of his fingertips alone. And Blaine's smile had widened in understanding and Kurt's eyes slowly opened in surprise, meeting Blaine's gaze.
Kurt had blushed but held Blaine's gaze that day, letting Kurt's eyes appear to Blaine to darken in their blue, in the contrast to Kurt's flushed skin.
And Blaine's breath had hitched, realizing that he had seen this open, trusting expression, that sets his heart racing every time, before - for the first time…back in November.
Not an hour later, Kurt whispering, "I love your smile," Blaine whispering back, eyes fluttering shut, "I'm so happy with you," they had fallen asleep that night, in Kurt's bed, in a place that feels like a home, both with smiles on their faces, foreheads resting together and a hand each on the other's cheek, fingertips still gently tracing the corners of their mouths, their smiles.
Blaine's warmth, Blaine's smile – Blaine smiling with the purest of joy, …in that way, truly happy, he only ever does when it is just us, only us, Kurt cannot deny the knowledge that it is the absence of this that has him still shivering as he sits down in the dark, alone – the ache inside more piercing than the iciness of the room, this house, and his thoughts dark, surrounding him.
These things, to others often small, silly, gestures of love – a way of living their love for each other, to Kurt and Blaine, and not silly in the least, these expressions of love – taken from both of them these days, their missing is what has sadness and the pain of Blaine's absence clinging to Kurt's skin, the darker thoughts firmly lodged in his mind.
Keeping the door of the bathroom wide open, Kurt stands up once more to turn on only the small light directly over the sink, lighting the mirror, before he sits back down.
As practiced as he is in every movement of his morning routine even Kurt cannot do it in darkness this complete.
There is a moment in which the lights are utterly too bright to really see anything clearer, so Kurt allows his eyes another much needed break, and just listens for the sound of Blaine's breathing, still deep and even, drifting in from the bedroom.
Listening gets harder once Kurt, reopening his eyes, tries to concentrate on his own reflection as well.
He can feel the focus briefly found slip away again, within seconds, as an image he never minds seeing, prompted by the sound of Blaine's relaxed breathing, drifts to the forefront of Kurt's mind: Blaine, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and looking so, so…relaxed, happy.
An old memory collected waking up in that first night, after their first time, then unable to look away for all the right reasons.
Mesmerized, overwhelmed by the beauty he could not only see but feel his whole body tingling with, "…the happiest moment in my life," Kurt whispers into the silence of this new day, unsure and more afraid of what it might bring than ever before.
It is a sharp surge of pain Kurt feels bolting through his forehead in the next second that has him fear only more it might be nothing good, nothing good at all.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, hissing in pain, he knows he has lost the fight for now, to hold on to that image of the purest happiness he can remember ever having felt.
There are new memories now, dark, drilling their way to the surface of his mind. Scratching and tearing at Kurt's insides they hurt deep already and Kurt is scared.
…so damn scared the pain will only grow in time, and…and what if…what…he can barely finish the thought it hurts so much to admit to the horrific truth of the possibility alone…what if they are here to stay?...take over? What if we cannot move past…this?
This, Kurt finds himself wishing he had a clearer idea already of what this really is. Afraid that if he does not find out soon, he will be too late in fighting it…afraid that he will be left helpless and alone, back in that old darkness he remembers still all too well from that time after losing his mother and before finding Blaine.
Wes. Please get here soon. I need you here to figure this out. I can't do it alone.
A tear slips down Kurt's face as he remembers, too vividly, waking up, still more in the yesterday than today, after only two hours of true rest, to his boyfriend ringing for air in his sleep. Wes's advice all Kurt had had all night long, still all he has, Wes's advice and his own love for Blaine, to try his best to fight Blaine's pain with him,…for him if I can. It should not be either of us lying there hurt, in pain. But it was meant to be me. Blaine, it was always meant to be me, not you. Never you.
The sob Kurt chokes back is dry and hard and cuts sharp into his throat, but all Kurt can think, doing his best to disregard his own pain, is…now is not the time to break down.
And if there is one thing that puts Kurt apart from most people surrounding him in his daily life it is his ability to will things into existence.
For once the lack of sleep brings relief, slowing Kurt's every thought, preventing him from working himself into a panic.
Another tear making its way down his cheek, and…
…Kurt does not do this!
He just does not.
Kurt Hummel starts over when something interrupts his routine.
It is the one thing he can do perfect every day. No matter how much life is out of control, he has this.
But today there are so many other things…I have to be perfect at…, that he is not even fully aware that he simply works the tear back into his own skin with the circling motions of his fingertips on his cheeks, slightly reddened by the pressure applied a little too forcefully, Kurt still somewhat lost, somewhere, in his slowed down thoughts.
The next twenty-two minutes are spent brushing teeth, getting dressed, styling hair, and all of it in near silence, and a little comfort returning with the real calm the familiarity of these motions so often holds for Kurt.
Today though, the calm does not outlast the moment it comes in for more than two minutes.
Keeping watch over the one you love just with your sense of hearing is a nerve wracking business, and Kurt finds himself rushing back into his boyfriend's bedroom more than once, thinking he heard something.
Fearing that that something means…everything.
Everything bad – more tears, more blood, more pain.
Kurt is just done putting on a thin line of eyeliner when he hears the shifting of covers, Or did I just imagine it?…again?
He hesitates, Kurt hates hesitating but sometimes it is impossible to help, and so before he even takes so much as a single step towards the bathroom door, Blaine appears in the doorway, looking slightly unsteady on his feet, and coming to lean against the doorframe in the next moment.
Blaine might look weak, but Kurt forces himself to remember...that he cannot be this selfish today, cannot just rush over and hold the other boy.
To make Blaine feel like he can do this, that he is strong enough, Kurt wants to do this for Blaine so very much. So he holds back, swallows the fresh tears building around the thought, and keeps his legs in place.
"Hey," Blaine says, trying to blink the sleep out of his open eye.
In the end, in reality, hearing Blaine's voice, strong, is the only thing that stops Kurt from dropping the eyeliner, still between his fingers, right into the sink and rushing over to wrap Blaine into his arms…and hold him, just hold him…safe. It is all Kurt can think about, it is all he wants.
Composed Kurt in turn tries his best to offer Blaine a happy smile, but it is laced with pain and sadness, Kurt's state of exhaustion taking its toll, taking brilliance and conviction from his smile altogether. But there are always still words to try and cover up. So Kurt does…try. "Hey, Love. How are you feeling?"
The worry still shows in his voice, and on any other day Blaine would instantly pick up on it, but… Blaine is exhausted himself.
…and slightly dizzy by the looks of him.
Kurt knows he should think of this as a good thing, being able to hold things back today, especially the potentially hurtful ones.
It is necessary,…bitterly so, but Kurt does not like it at all.
Hiding something, anything, from Blaine has never felt anything but wrong. And Kurt has always been bad at it anyway, frequently blabbing out surprises.
He cannot see this holding up all day. The breaking point will come.
All Kurt wants is to hold it off until after Blaine's surgery, when he will be on so many painkillers again, that Kurt can stop fighting this fight, and sink into bed next to Blaine.
…just hold his hands, hold him,…so that they both can let go of the pain inside without Kurt having to fear causing Blaine the additional pain of confusion. Confusion about the pain of his own, anger too, that Kurt is still fighting to hold inside right now.
Kurt is immensely thankful for Blaine's voice taking him away from the thoughts held back and drenched in tears unshed.
"I don't know. It feels like I fell asleep only two minutes ago." Blaine lets out a sigh, "Heavy….Everything feels really heavy."
And, Thank goodness, Kurt finds himself thinking,…clothes are the nicest necessity on earth to busy yourself with, "I'll help you change. Something comfortable, yes?"
"Yeah," Blaine says with a tired sigh, attempting a thankful smile with it.
"Okay, I get you something while you clean up a little."
Placing a kiss to Blaine's cheek Kurt turns to walk past Blaine back into the bedroom, then stops, "Oh wait. Let me help you wash your face first and change the eye-pad one more time. Just to make sure. Is that…okay?"
Blaine nods in thanks, sleepy still, and slow.
They have time.
And even if they did not, they would make time for each other. They always do.
Always.
Blaine already looking more awake, with his skin gently cleared with nothing more than pure water, stands eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Kurt's skin on his.
When Kurt gently, almost hesitantly presses the flat of his left palm over the, in the still dimmed light, almost startlingly white looking fresh pad just placed over Blaine's eye, he can hear Blaine's badly suppressed hiss almost instantly, from the pain that just came with the slight shift of Kurt's body as he stretched out his free hand to reach for the eye-patch.
Kurt tries his best to ease the pressure without giving the pad room to slide. At least my hands are not shaking, they often do in the morning when Kurt has not gotten enough sleep the previous night.
"I'm so sorry, Love," Kurt whispers, "It will be over in just one moment, I promise."
Blaine is not supposed to self-administer, as the pamphlets so kindly informed, pain medicine of any kind so shortly before the operation. So to try and take Blaine's mind of the new pain Kurt talks on, "I talked to my dad last night. He says he and Carole miss us already. How...how would you feel about meeting Carole and Dad, for breakfast?"
Blaine's expression is suddenly so full of hope it knocks the breath out of Kurt.
"Really?"
The eye-patch placed back over the white pad, and their gazes meeting fully, finally, they simply stand smiling at each other. The sudden surge of happiness seemingly highly contageous.
The first word taking the quiet is a cracked whisper. Even Kurt has no idea what he had meant for it to sound like, let alone mean. So Kurt clears his throat, "Yeah. I, I talked to him last night, and he and Carole offered to take us to breakfast this morning. If you want, Love. Only if you want. I can always call them and cancel?"
Blaine just smiles at the still somewhat worried looking boy standing before him.
One step, two, and their bodies are pressed flush against each other.
Blaine's arms coming around Kurt's waist, chests so close, Kurt can feel Blaine's breath quicken at first touch, in the rise of Blaine's chest against his alone.
Blaine's right cheek resting pressed into the comfort of Kurt's right shoulder in the next second Blaine hums, "I love you."
"I love you," Kurt breathes back, hands itching to be free to bury themselves in Blaine's curls without fear. No such luck today, so Kurt finds his arms closing around Blaine's upper body instead, gently rubbing some warmth into Blaine's still bare skin.
When, Blaine lifts his head again, and their gazes and then lips meet, Kurt can feel the moment of hesitation, the hiss and whimper Blaine swallows before he opens his lips, hot breath hitting Kurt's lips, who parts them with a soft gasp and some hesitation of his own.
There is a sting unshakeable in allowing Blaine this control Kurt knows Blaine feels he needs to take today. But the pain coming for Blaine with a simple kiss, today, is harder to swallow for Kurt than Blaine himself.
How are you supposed to not feel guilt knowing you are part of what causes the pain reflected in your lovers eyes? The thought almost has tears welling out of Kurt's eyes.
But as Blaine's breath continues to mingle with his, and Blaine's tongue delicately runs along Kurt's, maps out the warmth of Kurt's mouth longingly, there it is again, wins Kurt over quick, the depth of feeling love, not pain, depth that Kurt just as much as Blaine wants to sink into and never…never ever…
"Wow," Blaine pulls away, panting.
"Yeah." Kurt replies with a warm sigh and laugh, eyes cast down for a second, biting his lower lip, the thought of pain, somewhere deep inside a still playing echo.
He only looks up again hearing Blaine's next words a minute or so later, coming with a small chuckle, "And all without painkillers."
"Ha!" Kurt clasps his left hand over his mouth just as the sound escapes, surprised himself. And Blaine can see Kurt's eyes, glowing bright with the smile now hidden under fingers.
Blaine gently preys Kurt's hand away and interlaces it with his right, his left arm, still wrapped around Kurt's waist, keeping Kurt close.
Time never stands still...but right now it might as well.
There is nothing to miss, nowhere to be, being with each other, being…everything with one another, in this moment.
Kurt has long forgotten he even asked a question when Blaine, gaze intently connected with Kurt's, gives an answer, "I really, really want to see them." Resting his forehead against Kurt's Blaine adds, "And that someone will be with you and you don't have to sit there in the hospital all alone…."
Blaine swallows the thought too hard to fully form into meaning from the cry off pain it wants to come out in right now.
It takes Kurt's gentle squeeze of Blaine's hand to bring him back.
"It is good…, great to know you won't be alone. Makes it, makes things…."
"Easier?" Kurt offers.
"Yeah," Blaine replies failing at a smile, eye turning to the floor and closing.
"Yeah," Kurt replies softly with a smile, right arm coming around Blaine's upper body again, pressing their chests closer, allowing their hearts to beat together.
Gently pressing his right cheek against Blaine's, Kurt is relieved, happy, to feel that his touches have the desired effect, as he can feel the love shown, felt, bring both of them calm.
"Nothing has ever felt so right," Kurt whispers softly.
Blaine, resting his right temple against Kurt's nods, letting out a tender "Yeah," in a breathy voice, that sounds utterly too ragged for them just standing there.
They both tilt their heads a moment later and lips meeting they stay connected in another deep kiss - lips still brushing, when they open their mouths to gasp in some air, they are breathing in each other more than anything.
It is around 7:15am when they make their way downstairs.
About ten minutes ago they had, both standing fully dressed and just a few feet away from the door, ready to go, exchanged a knowing look of agreement.
And so, smiling, they had settled back down on the bed together.
They would have to face Blaine's mother early enough, who could make a house on fire feel like the arctic tundra. So really, this is the time to soak up some warmth.
They have already heard her downstairs, about twenty minutes ago, yelling at the housekeeper who had come by for some standard maintenance.
They do not say it out loud, they do not need to; they both understand why Blaine has been clutching his phone in one hand since they settled on the sheets, opening the same two messages again and again, lying with Kurt, in a comforting quiet, resting his head on his boyfriend's chest.
Burt and Carole had texted them while Blaine had changed.
Burt to Kurt: Morning, Kiddo. Managed to clear whole day's schedule to be with you every step. Love, Dad.
Burt to Blaine: Hope you're feeling better already, Kid. See you in a bit. Love, Burt
Carole to Kurt: Hey, Sweety. Already packed your favorite travel pillow, so you can catch some shut-eye in the waiting room later. Love You!
Carole to Blaine: Blaine, Hon, can't wait to see you. So happy you are coming home with us today. Love You, Carole.
Downstairs feels cold, as expected, far colder than Blaine's room had.
And Kurt cannot help the thought that it is really her...just...being here.
After all, he has spent many days in this kitchen with Blaine, alone together. A cake in the oven, or popcorn in the microwave, bowls of fruit and sorbet or cups of coffee in hand, it did never matter, warmth was always everywhere they moved.
Not today.
Worse, Mrs. Anderson seems to think that seeing someone in person she is not about to do business with means she can, and absolutely is entitled to, ignore them.
So she does her best at that. And Kurt cannot dispute it, not for a second, she is damn good at it.
Kurt and Blaine, somehow feeling prepared for it after last night, keep their greetings short, polite too, but distant.
No use trying to get close. Blaine does not share the thought, does not really need to, Kurt can feel Blaine tense again, instantly, in his mother's presence.
It shouldn't work like this between parents and children, Kurt thinks angrily, maybe more upset.
But after a moment and a cold "Morning," as only acknowledgement, and with her basically ignoring them altogether from there on out, Blaine relaxes a little more again into Kurt's comforting hold in no time at all.
It really are the messages in his phone, Burt's and Carole's love, being able, allowed, to feel sure of it, and the feel of Kurt's hands holding his, that get Blaine through the silence and…
"We need to leave."
"I see you when I get back."
…being all he, or Kurt, get to hear from her this whole morning.
And then they are standing in the hospital's parking lot.
Alone again, together.
Not the worst thing to be, in fact most days one of their favorite things, but today somehow somewhat scary…and unnerving too. It is the setting, imposing this feeling on both of them, not the company.
They could look around, but it was just ten to eight, when they got out off the car into the cold morning air a moment ago, so they expect they will be waiting a short while longer for Burt and Carole to arrive.
At this point, no coffee in his system yet, it is mainly the cold that is keeping Kurt awake at all, he knows. Still, eyes locked with Blaine's uninjured one, all either of them wants is to move deeper into each other's warmth.
They are about to when…
...they are each pulled into two very different but both warm, almost blazing, loving embraces.
"Uoh," Kurt lets out a yelp, as Carole pulls him closer still, and ...yes, thank you, I am definitely awake again now.
Blaine on the other hand could not be more relaxed, instantly almost melting into Burt's warmth, whispering, "Thank you," into Burt's chest. And it has Burt remember what he still sometimes forgets, ...how special this is to Blaine, to be embraced like this by a father.
Carole's eyes meet Burt's over Kurt's shoulder, and they both let out a deep breath, exchange a nod and a smile, share a thought:
They are alright, they got through the night alright.
xxxx
Wes would not mind having someone to hold him right now as well as he slumps down in his seat on the airplane.
His part of the world still more draped in night than morning, Wes lets out a heavy sigh.
Mumbling to himself it does not take long for him to get a questioning look from a stranger, an elderly man, sitting two seats over.
Wes is too tired to care, his thoughts not really here with them anyway, he does not even try to throw a half-hearted explanation the man's way. Who would that do any good?
"Things are going to turn out alright. Blaine will be fine, just fine… in a couple of weeks he will be all healed up, and…and…the…the…."
The Warblers,…Wes, tries hard to push all thoughts realting to them away for now, but still finds himself hung up on the fact that... I hate being angry…with anyone.
And really right now it is all he can manage to feel towards…all of them, really.
Wes wonders if it is only him feeling it, or if it is showing on his face, is detectible in his voice, the doubt, when he whispers to himself, "I will figure this out," more than anything wanting to be able to let go off…that stupid anger.
If only one of them had answered his calls by now, Jeff or Nick or Trent…David, I thought I knew you at least, how could you….
And right here it is, the only thing Wes hates more than being angry…
...being left to worry.
xxxx
Still hours away, in a small café in Lima, breakfast is a quiet affair. The four people sitting at the table, at first, talking less altogether than Wes, to the irritation of the old man, is keeping up still, all by himself, as the plane takes off.
A/N:
This story means so much to me, I want to do you and it justice. I am here to become a better writer and yeah, THANK YOU to each and every single one of you who helps me so much doing that by letting me know how you see my writing. It means so so much!
*smiles* M