The Beach House – Chapter Five – Flea Market
The rain continued to pound down even harder. It was so loud in the room, Kurt had to turn up the volume on the television just to hear it. He dared to move his hand a bit closer to Blaine's, so he could feel the warmth that radiated from it without actually touching it. If Blaine objected, Kurt could always say he hadn't noticed...no, he couldn't lie. Of all the things he and Blaine had done to each other at least they had never lied.
Blaine tried to smile as he set the empty mug down on the tray. He noticed that Kurt was done, too, and all the cinnamon doughnuts were gone. He tried to keep up at least the appearance of smiling.
Kurt knew it wasn't real. Blaine's eyes sparkled when he was really smiling, his dimples showed and he was very animated. Kurt knew that Blaine had always had a sort of desperate need to make people like him. What most people took as Blaine's charm, Kurt knew was Blaine trying to please people as if was expected of him – an obligation to make those around him feel at ease.
Kurt sighed. Blaine hadn't been like this around him before, it was something he saved for others. Did he think Kurt had forgotten, or worse that Kurt had never known this about him? That was enough to break his heart.
"Kurt? I'm really tired. I need to sleep – tomorrow is a busy day and I need to get Daniel home to change and get ready. I have to find another day care. I wouldn't dare leave him with those bastards that lost him," Blaine said, his voice shaking at the end. Daniel was his life and he was sick with the thoughts of what might have happened.
"I understand. I'll shut this off," Kurt said.
"No need. I'll just go in with Danny," he said getting up to go into the living room to share the sofa with his son.
Kurt touched his arm.
"Stay with me?" was all Kurt asked, but the look of hope on his face reached Blaine down to his gut. Could he stay with Kurt, here in his bed? Would it be too much on a day when Blaine's emotions had been higher and lower than he thought possible.
Kurt didn't say anything else, he just held out his arms, inviting Blaine to come back, to let Kurt hold him. Feeling weak, Blaine could not refuse...
Under the warm blankets, Kurt snuggled close to Blaine. He took in the smell of his shampoo and the deep-seated scent that was Blaine himself. It was like a drug and Kurt couldn't stop taking it in.
Blaine was almost rigid, worried his affections might anger Kurt, so he was trying hard to stay away. It worked for a while, but eventually he realized that Kurt was still awake and that he was breathing kind of hard.
"Hey," Blaine whispered, "Are you still awake?"
"Yeah. I just can't fall asleep...sorry, was I keeping you awake?"
"No..."
Silence again.
"Kurt? Do you think...um...would it be...ummm..." Blaine stuttered. He didn't know what he wanted, much less what he wanted to say. This was Kurt Hummel. Kurt. His Kurt. The man he had wanted to spend his life loving – and then screwed it up. How could he come back from that failure?
"Blaine...I know this is awkward, so I'm just going to bite the bullet and talk, tell you what I'm thinking. You can agree, disagree, or add to it anything you're thinking. No judgments, okay?"
Blaine sighed in relief.
"That is exactly what I was thinking," he answered, looking less tense.
"First, this was an unexpected meeting. I mean, who would have ever predicted that we would run into each other like this?" Kurt commented.
"Not me. My head is still reeling, but it made me think – there are things I want you to know."
"Yeah?" Kurt replied, scooting a bit closer. He put a tentative hand on Blaine's bicep and waited to see if that was okay.
"I am so sorry about how things turned out. About running away from you. It was the worst thing I have ever done to anyone, Kurt, and I'm asking your forgiveness," Blaine said, looking into Kurt's eyes. He was afraid, but he had to see what Kurt's reaction was. He knew there was a lot of baggage that each of them were lugging around, but he also knew Kurt would not lie to him.
"Oh, Blaine, I can't pretend it didn't hurt. Because it did hurt me, deeply. I wanted to hate you for it, but after a year I found that I just could not hate you. I'd loved you for too long. I still love you," Kurt said, looking into Blaine's eyes in the moonlight.
"I still love you, too, Kurt."
"You know I forgave you a long time ago. I just...I missed you. Every blessed day," Kurt whispered, reaching over to put a hand to Blaine's cheek. He was still looking at Blaine, but tears were running down his face.
Blaine just laid there, not knowing what to do. He wanted Kurt back, more than he had ever dreamed. He'd lived without him for six years now, but it felt more like sixty. He had to get it out before he broke down and couldn't speak.
"Kurt, there has not been one day in the past six years that I didn't miss you, that I didn't think about what might happen if I found you again. And now..." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gathering his courage.
"Kurt...can we...maybe start again?" he asked. He knew it was a lot to ask, but he was willing to do anything to have Kurt back in his life.
"Yes."
Blaine took a double take. What? It was that easy?
"Are you sure?" Blaine asked in astonishment.
"Yeah. I'm sure. Blaine, losing you – living without you - was like losing my right arm. And my heart. I missed you too much and it hurt. Every day. I just want you back..." Kurt burst into tears.
"I know I'm supposed to make conditions," Kurt continued, "to set a time table, to wait and evaluate us every so often to see if we're on the right track...but I just don't want to. I want you, Blaine. Is that too much to ask? To just need you so much that I want it to start right now?" he said, his words bubbling out as fast as he could say them, fast enough to get it all out before his better sense told him not to. He had to let Blaine know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. It wasn't until he was done and looked at Blaine to see why he was so silent that he thought again.
Why would Blaine want to get back with someone that had caused him so much grief? Kurt started to turn away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Come here, babe...let me hold you," Blaine's voice came soft and warm and just the way he'd remembered it. He snuggled his face into Blaine's chest. "Calm down, you're okay, babe, you're okay."
Kurt relaxed after a few minutes, amazed at what was happening. Blaine wasn't rejecting him. Kurt's heart was singing. He cautiously put his arms around Blaine, reveling in the feeling of having the love of his life back.
"Blaine? Are you sure?" he had to ask. He held his breath.
"Yes. I'm sure. We have to think out a lot of things, and we have to be careful of Danny's feelings, too. I don't think we can just spring something like this on him suddenly."
"No, of course not. We will have lots of talks. We can move as slow as you like, Blaine. I understand. I don't know what else to say...except that I love you. And thank you."
"We'll need to talk in the morning, if that's okay? Do you work on Saturdays?"
"I work every day," Kurt laughed.
"You said you travel?"
"Yes, from time to time. Mostly to Europe to buy art. I'm a printer- a lithographer – and I make frames, do matting, binding, a few other things. I sometimes work as an art broker, too, but on a small scale. I keep my own schedule and I don't have anything with a deadline right now, so I'm free," Kurt explained. "You didn't say what you did, though?"
"Do you know who Devon Curtis is?" Blaine asked.
"The playwright? The one whose musical, 'This Time', is playing off-Broadway right now?" Kurt asked.
"Yeah, that one. Ah, that's me."
"You?" Kurt asked, his eyes wide.
"Yeah...I'm that playwright. Oh, and I also do some songwriting and composing from time to time. Just to keep busy," Blaine smiled. He noticed Kurt's excited reaction.
"Oh, my stars...you are THE Devon Curtis? But...why? Why don't you use your own name?" he asked, his eyes on Blaine's face.
"It started when I didn't want you to find me. I'm ashamed to say that, but it was such a dark time and..."
"You don't have to apologize, I understand. Where did you get the name? Devon is your middle name, right?"
"Yes. And I didn't want to use your exact name, so I sort of changed that to Curtis - but it was in honor of my best friend," Blaine gave Kurt a shy smile and ducked his head in embarrassment. They were both sitting on the bed now, talking the way they used to – using their hands for emphasis, shifting their weight and moving closer or farther as they spoke.
"It's funny that we both chose careers in the arts, isn't it?" Kurt mused, studying Blaine's face.
Chelsea Flea Market, New York City – 2014
"Oh! Mercury glass ornaments!" Blaine shouted, stopping at the booth with Christmas trees he'd spotted from across the fair.
"What's with the mercury glass?" Kurt asked, seeing the shine in Blaine's eyes.
"My grandmother had several mercury glass ornaments. She had a stag, a dog, a pine cone and my favorites were a pair of birds – peacocks. They had real feathers in their tails. I've never seen anything like them since," he said, the most terrific grin on his face as he looked at the ornaments displayed on the trees.
"Oh, look...a polar bear. I like this one," Kurt said, touching the ornament.
"Me, too."
"But we're not here to get ornaments. We're looking for stuff for the apartment, right?"
"Ornaments could be for the apartment."
"Blaine...keep focused. We need a desk, some chairs, lamps, maybe a sofa?" Kurt reminded him.
"I know," Blaine sighed. Kurt was always so on track when it came to shopping.
"Let's go this way, I think I see an old desk that we could refurbish..." Kurt guided him, their arms linked together. They strolled down the row of tents and booths to look at the old desk. Blaine was barely listening as Kurt dickered with the owner of the desk, emphasizing the age, the peeling old paint, the missing drawer pulls.
"I knew I could get this at a perfect price," Kurt crowed as they loaded it on the truck they had rented. "Now, let's go back down that far aisle, I saw a spice jar set that would work in the kitchen. It matched our Art Deco sugar, flour, coffee, and tea canister set."
"Do I ever get to pick something?" Blaine asked and Kurt stopped, turning on his heel to face his boyfriend.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing, I was just teasing you. I love all the things you've picked out for our home," Blaine said. He might be a bit upset, but it didn't matter, at least it wasn't worth picking a fight. He loved Kurt's taste in decoration. Well, in anything he did. Kurt was a peacock among the common geese in every way.
"Do you? Or are you just trying not to pick a fight?" Kurt asked, getting a bit worried that he was indeed taking over all the decorating choices.
"No, I do love your designer's eye. I wish I had that gift..." Blaine said ruefully.
"But you do! Here, let's prove it. You go to the east and I'll head west. We'll both take $200 and buy what we find for the apartment. Then we'll compare and see who found the best object. Okay?" Kurt suggested.
"Oh! That sounds great! Just like one of those reality/game shows on the public broadcasting station," Blaine grinned, his natural love for competition coming to the surface.
"Okay, it starts now and we'll meet back here at the truck in one hour. Go!"
Blaine took off down a row they hadn't walked through yet. Kurt walked quickly back to the booth with the mercury glass ornaments.
"I was looking for a mercury glass ornament - of a peacock. One with real feathers for the tail?" Kurt asked the man.
"Well, I have a lot, but not that one. Here, I was just going to put these in the trees – you can look through the box if you wish," he offered, hauling a large box up on the table for Kurt to peruse.
"Thanks," Kurt said as he went through the selection, undoing newspaper and bubble wrap as he went.
"Oh! This is the perfect thing!" he said, smiling a the owner and counting out the cash. He knew it was the perfect Christmas present for Blaine. He took the fragile ornament wrapped securely and hid it in his bag. Then he hurried to find a treasure for his competition with Blaine.
"Can you do a little better on the price?" Blaine pleaded as he stood at a table. "I'm a poor college student but I promise I'll give him a good home." He was looking at a bronze lamp: a sculpture of a gold and black harlequin dancing on a black marble bridge, holding two lanterns.
"Well, I have to get my money back. I got him in an estate sale with a truckload of similar stuff, but I paid top dollar..." the woman said, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow with the edge of her shawl. Her long braid whipped around her shoulders as she turned to finish unpacking her displays.
"Oh...well, I only have about a hundred to spend," he lamented.
"If you could come up with another twenty-five, it's yours," she offered, a frown on her face.
Blaine reached into his other pocket to get a five, then into a pants pocket to retrieve another five and a ten to add to the original hundred. He gave the woman his very best sad-puppy look and held out the money.
"Okay, a hundred and twenty - it saves me from hauling it back to my garage," the woman growled. She handed the lamp to Blaine who leaned over to kiss her cheek. The woman blushed a slight bit.
"Thank you!" he said, his voice showing how happy she had made him. She gave him a very brief smile and he turned to hurry to the waiting truck.
Kurt was still bargaining with a rather rotund man sitting in an ancient wicker chair that threatened to collapse with his every movement. He peered over his glasses at Kurt, giving him a glare.
"I just don't know..." Kurt stalled. He was sure of this purchase, it was perfect. He wanted the two pictures in the worst way, but getting them for the best price was almost as important.
"I can give you a break since you're buying both, but they are not just prints, you know. They're lithographs," the fat man said, his wicker chair creaking as he settled himself down and tapped his pipe on the bottom of his shoe. "And that's not even taking the frames into consideration. Those are hand carved mahogany art frames..."
It took Kurt the better part of 45 minutes, watching the man as he refilled his pipe with greasy tobacco and adjusting his bifocals over and over. In the end, Kurt was able to buy the pair of Michael Parkes lithographs for his 200 dollars. He smiled, thanked the man and was off down the aisle, just making it back to the truck in time.
Blaine was standing by the rental truck, arms crossed and a smile on his face. Finn was standing next to him.
"Finn!" Kurt shouted and leaned the lithographs against the side of the truck and hugged his brother. "What? When?"
"I came to see you. When you guys weren't home, Rachel told me you were coming here today, so I thought I'd come down and meet you," Finn smiled, looking up as Rachel walked around the far side of the truck, a music box in her hands.
"Finn, look at this beautiful..." she stopped, looking at her best friend. "Kurt!"
She flew into his arms and accepted a kiss to her brunette hair. She stepped back, a smile on her face as she hugged Blaine and returned to Finn's embrace.
"Oh, just in time!" Kurt shouted, "You two can judge who won. Blaine and I each took a couple hundred to find the perfect addition to our apartment. Okay, Blaine?"
"Sounds good to me," Blaine said, looking down at an object in his arms. It was a chalkware poodle vase. It was painted pink with white roses all outlined in gold glitter. Blaine smiled lovingly at the monstrosity. Kurt's breath stopped for a moment it was so hideous. Finn's eyes rolled in his head and Rachel grew pale.
"That's...ummm..." Kurt began, cringing at having to find something kind to say about the hideous statue.
"Yeah, it's sort of..." Finn started, then just stood there, looking to Rachel.
"Blaine, you know I love you, but..." she began.
Blaine burst out in laughter like a cannon shooting glitter. He had to lean over and hold his belly as he laughed, trying to force words out of his mouth.
"This is not my entry into the First Annual Best Taste Competition. Watching the three of you trying to come up with something that wouldn't hurt my feelings, though...worth the dollar fifty I spent on little Fifi here," he grinned.
"Oh, Blaine!" they all shouted at him, embarrassed they had fallen for his trick.
"Okay, cowboy – what did you really pick?" Kurt asked, giving him a heartfelt chuckle at his subterfuge.
"I'll get it..." Blaine said, walking over to the cab of the rental truck and getting the lamp.
"Oh, that is beautiful!" Rachel chirped, "If you don't want it, I'd take it in a minute."
"No – that is going in our loft!" Kurt inserted, quick to realize the beauty of the bronze sculpture.
"Is that a clown lamp?" Finn asked, giving the work of art a close eye.
"It is actually a harlequin, a bronze sculpture," Blaine explained.
"But it's still a lamp, right?" Finn argued, not wanting to lose face in front of his girlfriend.
"Yes, but...not a clown lamp. It's a work of art," Blaine insisted, looking at the gold leaf that made up half the diamonds on the harlequin's costume and the crystal globes of the two lanterns he held in his meticulously sculpted hands.
"Let's see what you found, Kurt," he smiled, giving his boyfriend an encouraging kiss.
Kurt brought out the two lithographs in carved wooden frames.
"I'm going to let the two of you decorate my apartment from now on," Rachel enthused, clapping her hands as she looked at the pictures.
"Oh, I've seen this artist's work before," Blaine said. "Is it Jack Vettriano?"
"Close...it's Michael Parkes," Kurt said, a winning smile on his lips as he saw Blaine's eyes sparkle.
"I don't get it – I thought you guys were gay, that naked women turned you off," Finn asked, blushing. He liked the prints – one of a naked woman sitting on some kind of ruins, a lioness reclining with her head on the girl's knee and the other painting had a naked woman reclining next to a lion and holding a lion cub up in the air – but he couldn't conceive of his gay brother picking out paintings of naked women.
"It's art. I don't hate women, Finn. I think they're beautiful, I just don't feel any romantic feelings towards them," Kurt said, giving his brother a curious look.
Finn turned to Blaine, the question unspoken on his lips.
"It's the same way I feel, Finn. Yes, the female body is beautiful, and I hope I know what is pleasing when I see it – I have many female friends: Tina, Quinn, Brittany, and your pretty girlfriend here," Blaine tried to explain, smiling at Rachel, "I just don't want to date them."
"Okay, I guess I understand that," Finn blushed again. He looked back at the paintings, evaluating them in his head and comparing them to the bronze harlequin.
"Well, who wins?" Kurt asked and the discussion of the attributes of each piece of artwork went on for a while until they just gave up and called it a tie.
"Yes...I mean, we both went to school for performing arts, and neither of us is on Broadway," Blaine said.
"You are."
"I mean neither of us is singing or acting," Blaine clarified. "I didn't learn scriptwriting at NYADA."
"I actually didn't graduate from NYADA either," Kurt said.
"No?" Blaine looked at his ex, wondering just how many things in Kurt's life changed because he'd left that night. He looked over at his ex, his face sad.
"Hey, now, it isn't all bad you know. After that night – I just couldn't go on at NYADA. Finn and Rachel made me go home to Lima and I lost my momentum. When I was well enough to come back, Carmen Tibedeaux gave me a month to catch up. I wasn't able to do that. I ended up at NYU in their design program with a minor in fine arts. My interest had shifted, from performing to printing."
Blaine put his head down in his hands.
"I did that to you...is there no end to the destruction I caused you?"
Kurt sat quietly, contemplating what he should answer. In the end he put his arms around Blaine's neck and kissed his cheek.
"I love my life now. I wanted to study art and I'm glad I did. I've been successful, I have less stress than I would have had as a performer, and I'm happy. My one great disappointment in life – well, maybe my chance to make things right is now sitting here beside me and we are talking – what else could I ask for?"
Blaine nodded, unable to say anything for a few moments.
"Are you regretting not finishing at NYADA?" Kurt asked.
"No, not really. I mean – if I had gone in that direction, I would probably be happy, but writing? I never guessed how much it fulfills me. I do love the whole process – the ideas, the organization in my mind of how the story will play out, the ability to imagine things in detail, and then there is the songwriting aspect of it. If I were performing on Broadway now, could I actually write my own songs? The chances of that are thin, don't you think?"
Kurt nodded, running his hand down Blaine's arm to lace their fingers together.
"And now here I sit – with the love of my life, the love I thought was gone from me forever, Kurt. I feel like I'm dreaming."
"Me, too," Kurt said. He wanted to just push Blaine back on the bed and cover him with kisses – but better sense told him that might ruin everything. He didn't want to scare Blaine into disappearing again, so he settled for squeezing his hand. Blaine gave him a smile.
"Speaking of dreaming, it is almost one in the morning. We better get some shut-eye if either of us is going to be of any use come morning," Blaine said.
"Okay. Is it okay if we...nevermind," Kurt begged off, turning his head away.
"If we what?" Blaine asked, touching Kurt's hand.
"I was going to ask if we can...cuddle?"
"Sure, I'd like that," Blaine said with a shy smile. He scooted back down in bed, holding the covers open for Kurt. They lay just as they had so many years ago, Blaine in back of Kurt, his chest to Kurt's back and Kurt's arms around him. He gave a contented sigh and fell asleep.