Wasteland

Blaine looked stoically over at Kurt in the thunderous silence that was roaring in his ears. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Give me a minute," Kurt said carefully, closing his eyes as if not being able to see Blaine would be enough to make him disappear.

"I-" Blaine tried again.

"One minute," Kurt repeated, holding up a finger and squeezing his eyes shut just a bit tighter, the barely-in-control tone of his voice a warning that made Blaine hold his tongue, unsure what he'd have said even if Kurt had let him continue. Just when Blaine was beginning to become concerned about Kurt's stillness, Kurt finally moved his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb and inhale deeply.

"You and Sebastian were together," Kurt clarified.

Blaine nodded, then realized that Kurt's eyes were still closed, and cleared his throat uncomfortably, whispering roughly, "Yeah."

"Living together."

"Yeah."

Kurt's eyes opened and fixed Blaine with a cold glare. "So Sebastian kicked you out, and you came here."

"No," Blaine said, voice hard. "I kicked myself out."

Kurt's brow furrowed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"What does it matter?" Blaine sighed, struggling to be patient. "We used to be together and now we're not. What is it to you?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously, the fury there no longer restrained. "What is it to me?" he repeated incredulously. "You have problems with your boyfriend, and I become - what? Your backup plan? Your second choice? No, that shouldn't matter at all."

"It's been six years, Kurt," he said, his lips forming Kurt's name as if it was physically painful to say. "Do you ever let things go?"

Kurt's eyebrows jerked up and he said icily, "I'm not the one who showed up at my ex's apartment."

Blaine looked away, the corners of his mouth distorting as if he was trying not to grimace.

"Oh, just spit it out," Kurt snapped. "I can tell you want to argue."

"I don't want to argue."

"No, you're just going to be sullen, right?"

"Fine," Blaine spat, standing up and crossing to the window, only his back facing Kurt. "You want to know what I'm thinking? You broke up with me. You don't get to complain about being a second choice." He whirled around to stare hauntingly at Kurt, his eyes burning with some strange combination of rage and pain. "Not anymore. Not after that."

And then Kurt was on his feet too, snapping venomously, "Well, you sure didn't waste any time moving onto Sebastian, did you? Just waiting for me to get tired of you so that you could move on to the next guy in line?"

Blaine jerked back around to hide the way his expression twisted at that, intending to storm out of the apartment until he remembered that he had nowhere to storm to. "Get over yourself, I'm not going to apologize for a decision you made," he spat, nearly choking on the words.

Kurt mistook the anguish in his voice for anger and snarled with matching fury, "Yeah, I bet it was a relief for you to get to make me the bad guy, huh?"

"Stop," Blaine hissed, his hands reaching up and curving into his hair, tugging at the dark roots. He felt like he was losing his mind, disgusted by how in the space of a fifteen minute conversation he'd lost his so carefully constructed control over himself and allowed himself to unravel into this. "Please stop."

And suddenly, that day came rushing back to him in precise, cutting detail, the memory breaking over Blaine with astonishing force.

It had been the week after Thanksgiving, and Kurt had spent the holiday in D.C. with Burt. Blaine had spent it at a fancy dinner with his parents and their most important clients, wishing that he was at the Hummel's humble family gathering instead. Burt had been very clear that being in Washington did not mean their Thanksgiving meal would be joined by his fellow coworkers.

School had resumed, and Blaine grew absorbed with last-minute college applications and preparation for Regionals with the New Directions. College was hard; Blaine knew that, so he was never surprised when days passed without any word from Kurt. Even so, they had made sure not to grow apart, keeping in close touch even through the chaos of Kurt's midterm exams.

It was inexplicable and unexpected, then, when the phone rang one Tuesday afternoon and Blaine's stomach was sinking before he'd even glanced at the Caller ID. "Hey," he said croakily once he saw that it was Kurt, his voice sounding unused.

"Blaine. Are you free right now?"

Blaine frowned, the direct greeting a shock. "Sure."

"Good. We need to talk."

Blaine had tried to laugh at the cliché line - the last time he'd heard that from Kurt it was because he'd accidentally thrown an expensive cream-colored sweater of Kurt's into the dryer and shrunk it irreparably. Yet then, Kurt had been brisk and irritated, and now he was just eerily calm.

Blaine waited, but there was only quiet breathing on the other side of the line. "What is it?" The breathing stopped for a moment and Blaine asked again, "Kurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. But I think we should break up."

And then it had been Blaine's turn to stop breathing, because the words fine and breaking up were so contrary that they seemed to have no place being together like that.

"Are you there?"

"Mmm," Blaine managed to hum into the phone, thankful that it didn't sound like the moan he felt like making.

"You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

"Mhmm."

"I mean it. We knew the distance was going to be hard, and I want to get to experience college all the way, and you deserve the same thing for your senior year. You can understand that, right?"

And because that had been Blaine's one concern, from the moment Kurt and Rachel had first gone to that NYADA mixer over a year ago, he did understand, so entirely and instantly that his throat remembered how to work again and he gasped out, "Yes."

"Good. That's good."

It wasn't good, nothing was good, nothing could ever be good again, but Blaine couldn't find the words to say anything besides "yeah" and then listen to Kurt primly bidding him goodbye and then the click on the other end of the line. It wasn't until afterwards, with the dial tone blaring into his ear, that Blaine recalled being seated in Miss Pillsbury's office not even a year ago, with Kurt wrapping his arms around him and promising that Blaine would never lose him.

"Stop what?" Kurt asked, his sharp voice slicing through the tide of recollection sweeping back out from Blaine's mind.

Instead of answering, Blaine found himself saying something entirely different. "Do you want me to leave?" Blaine asked, raising his head and turning to look earnestly at Kurt.

Kurt blinked, his expression still furious but his eyes confused for a brief moment. "I thought you said you didn't have anywhere else to go."

"If that's how you feel about me now that you know what happened, then this isn't a place to go to."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'll find an apartment." Blaine took in Kurt's glance of skepticism and added testily, "I'm not incapable of supporting myself, Kurt."

Kurt held up his hands, palms out, as if to defend himself. "Okay, fine - I just thought, because you crashed here-"

"It's hard to get in contact with a realtor in the middle of the night."

"I said fine!"

"Alright, I just-"

"Okay!"

They both stopped short at that, seeming equally surprised by Kurt's outburst, and then, as if the tension building between them had snapped something in Kurt, he burst out in hearty laughter, big unrestrained chuckles bubbling up from his stomach.

"What?" Blaine asked, joining in, the kind of laughter that couldn't help but be contagious.

"I don't even know!" Kurt gasped, the pronouncement redoubling their chuckles as they both bent and clutched at their bellies and each wondered if they were going slightly insane. It was the kind of irrational, uncontrollable laughter that Blaine hadn't experienced in too long to remember, and he gave into it, falling back down onto the couch and slumping against the soft leather.

Kurt dropped next to him on the other end of the couch and they stared at each other as their giggles subsided into quiet, infrequent outbursts. When they'd both finally sobered, Kurt sighed and clapped Blaine on the shoulder. "Whatever, just stay, Blaine."

"Thanks," Blaine nodded, too exhausted to wonder why and vaguely aware that, even if he asked, there was no possible answer Kurt could give that wouldn't break the perfection of the moment.

"I'd say "anytime" if that made any sense at all," Kurt said around a yawn, getting up and moving to the kitchen and beginning to turn on lights.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting up. I'm wide awake anyway, and I like to start my work day early."

"Oh." Blaine looked down at his hands awkwardly for a moment, and then half sat up, glancing around the room as if for an indication of what he was expected to do.

"It's okay, you can go back to sleep," Kurt assured him, and Blaine marveled at how they'd gone from arguing to amicable so quickly. "I know you probably didn't sleep much."

Blaine nodded again, but didn't lay back down, instead following Kurt with his gaze as Kurt pulled a pre-packaged cup of Greek yogurt from the refrigerator and set a pot of water boiling for tea.

"Want some?" Kurt offered, glancing easily over at Blaine.

"Oh - no thanks," Blaine said, looking up sharply as if he'd been started.

"That's right, you like coffee." Kurt's voice was almost a hum. "I can put some on for you? I switched to tea because it's healthier."

"I'm good, you don't have to-"

"I know I don't have to."

"Okay."

"Relax," Kurt smiled, and Blaine tried to grin in return, but couldn't because he knew, knew even as he watched the apartment door close behind Kurt as he left for work, that it wasn't real. Kurt was trying so hard, it was so clear, and so was he, to prolong the good moments and forget about everything else so that they could enjoy them. Yet what stood in between those moments weren't small details or complications, they were a vast wasteland of disconnect.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. College visits and interviews got in the way. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review, please?