A/N: You guys are the best for alerting/reviewing/favouriting! This story is close to 100 reviews and 200 followers and I just want to thank y'all for your support even after 2months of not updating and as gratitude, here's Ch.11. And major things are happening...
Chapter 11:: Closer, Warmer
"Wake up, baby." Kurt cooed, kissing his forehead, secretly grinning at his Doritos-shaped eyebrows.
"M'sotired..."
"Let's stay here in bed together for a while then. How does that sound?"
Blaine finally peeked up with a bit lip, Kurt momentarily enthralled by his distinguishable blue eyes.
"Your hair is so gorgeous," the countertenor blurted out, running a hand through the soft curls before carefully sinking down to caress his stubble and Blaine resisted the urge to moan happily at the sensation. It all felt so normal...so domestic. "I really loved last night by the way."
"So the sleepover was a success?" Blaine struggled to sit up and as both men laid back-first against the pillows while still under the blanket, Kurt responded by slowly cupping the man's cheeks and pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Blaine moaned into the liplock, reaching up a hand to cradle the back of Kurt's head and Kurt hummed happily, daring to raise a hand to travel through the blind man's soft curly locks again, shuffling closer while tilting his head to deepen their union.
"No regrets," the assistant replied, resting a hand over Blaine's clothed chest.
"Good! That's great, I'm glad." Blaine stumbled over his words, causing Kurt to giggle at his babbling. He cleared his throat, "Is it bad for me to ask if you could... stay the night here again? I-I don't want to force you into anything—"
Kurt chose to kiss him deeply, overcome with happiness and support. "I'd love to," he whispered, exhaling. I'll always protect you, no matter what.
Kurt watched numbly as Blaine felt-reached out slowly to gently hold his cheek, leaning softly against his touch, closing his eyes. "Night Sky," the blind man mumbled dreamily, resting his forehead against his.
Innocent kisses turned into a more heated, fiery makeout session, Kurt yielding immediately to his surprisingly possessive lover and Blaine dominating by pinning him to the mattress under him, the rustling of sheets and crashing of lips making it more intense than ever. "You're mine," he growled between kisses.
Both froze when a loud knocking came on the door.
"Get your lovestruck asses up, I made breakfast!" Santana hollered.
Realizing how his boyfriend hovered over him, Kurt blushed and Blaine whimpered after pulling back as if his lips were his oxygen and Kurt stood up, helping him into his cane and internally pondering how he was going to tell him the truth of what'd happened in high school with Karofsky. He was deathly afraid of confessing and he rarely told anyone else about this except his closest friends in glee club and his family.
Little did he know that Blaine was becoming more anxious that he himself would've to confess everything about how he lost his sight to Kurt as well today…
The Lincoln Towncar cruised through the busy streets of Lower Manhattan, famous and unfamiliar, old and modern skyscrapers passing them by as Santana made a right turn onto the junction of 206th and 208th Street.
Blaine had told him earlier that they were going to a certain place that caused his blindness and boy was he afraid of what they were heading for. Wherever they're headed, it can't be good. Kurt peered out to see that they were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge now, making him assume that their destination was somewhere in Brooklyn then.
Fumbling for his hand, Kurt shuffled closer to interlock their fingers, offering a sense of hope and how he'd moved on since that fateful night.
"We don't have to do this today if you're not ready," Kurt muttered, heart wrenching as Blaine shivered, knowing that they're nearing their destination.
"I have to," he declared. "I need to face it and be completely honest with you, Kurt. I need to bury the hatchet on what happened that…that awful night—"
Blaine's monologue was interrupted by a blissful pair of wet lips over his and he sighed into it, daring to let out a low groan as the familiar scent of Kurt engulfed his senses. The blind man automatically knew from the kiss that no words were necessary, acknowledging that Kurt was expressing his support as well as silently telling him that he wasn't going anywhere.
All of a sudden, the Towncar halted and Blaine instinctively clutched onto Kurt's hands even tighter. Then, as Santana quickly went out to open his door to help him out, Kurt followed suit and he looked around. Confusion led to curiosity.
They were now at an urban part of Brooklyn, an apparently closed-up bar in front of them where people used to come here for drinks and hookups. Its front entrance was boarded up now, wooden planks concealing the dusty former tavern behind them and Kurt wondered how Blaine's blindness is connected to this closed bar before them. Santana then hooked arms with Blaine to help lead him down an alleyway beside the bar, Kurt following and coming across graffiti and trash cans by the alley's walls.
Eventually, the alleyway led to an abandoned carpark behind which Kurt assumed was for the bar.
"This is where it happened, Kurt." Blaine's soft voice broke the silence.
8 months ago
WhiteSwallows was the name of the gay bar Blaine and Santana entered one cold Saturday night. It was a typical, ordinary day of hard work and Blaine, having just finished a portion of his next novel, was exhausted and so, he called his best friend down for some drinks here in Brooklyn, secretly loving the ambience—not to mention, the men—and atmosphere here.
Clinking their glasses of beer with a laugh together, the two friends downed their drinks before opting to tell each other about the mishaps of their own days. How Blaine almost tripped and fell in the front lobby of MountCrest Publishing and how his best friend had to hail a taxi amidst a heavy downpour of rain in the city.
Their innocence prevented them from ever guessing that a horrible danger was about to lick its way through their lives and Blaine's eyesight was the cost to pay for it.
"You almost fell today?!" Blaine's company cackled with laughter, her glass of beer now almost empty. "That's fucking hilarious, Blaine!"
The man pouted, "It isn't funny, okay? I was mortified and worst of all, I had a cup of coffee with me when it happened and I was just glad to not spill it all over the floor or—oh my God, on somebody!"
"So, tell me, Hazel Eyes." The woman leaned towards her half-drunk friend with a raised eyebrow. "Is this some tactic you have? Ya know, potentially spilling coffee on perhaps... a hot gay guy? That would be a hilarious way to meet the one person you'll eventually get to call 'the love of you life'!"
Blaine snorted, "Course not! Why would this—" He lifted his fingers to make quotation marks. "—'hot gay guy' want to have a relationship with someone who spilled hot coffee over his clothes?! I could be responsible for giving the man scars for all I know..."
"But scars are sexy," the woman smirked and Blaine rolled his eyes.
"And that is a sign that we really need to get you home now. It's..." he checked his watch. "12.35am now and I also need to get up early tomorrow for another meeting with Graham—"
"Ugh, meeting this, meeting that. When did you become so boring, Anderson?" She crossed her arms.
Blaine laughed, "Shut up and grab your things. I'll drive you home."
By the time they paid everything and gathered their things, they walked out the back door which led to the gay bar's parking lot. The midnight sky was glooming and with the bright Moon above them, Blaine and his best friend began their journey towards the man's navy BMW.
But they never got to reach it.
Blaine was about to tell Santana about how he and his boyfriend, Jeremy Hunt, were talking about moving in together at his penthouse back at Manhattan when a foreign, aggressive voice pierced the air.
"Where do you think you're going, you two?!"
The two best friends turned around, oblivious as ever, and Blaine froze.
The hooded man was sporting a baseball bat and he lunged, his murderous eyes set upon the author and his close friend.
Present
"You were a victim of gay bashing," Kurt breathed in horror, his boyfriend now slowly looking away from him blindly. They were still at the parking lot where the nightmare occurred all those months ago and god, Kurt wanted to just kiss him so deeply and whisper to him that everything's going to be okay. But he knew that right now, it wasn't the case. "I fought the attacker off as much as I could and I managed to see the bat drop to the ground and Santana was trying so hard to help me too but he pushed her off...then, he grabbed my face and shoved me into a glass window headfirst."
"And that's how I lost my eyesight. How I lost my friends. How I lost everything," Blaine exhaled, Santana daring to sigh as well.
"I remember falling to the ground as the man backed away, I could still recall his eerie laughter as he ran off. I remember seeing Santana standing up and daring to chase him but I told her that he wasn't worth it. By now, the car's loud alarm made a few people emerge from the bar's backdoor and I guess someone dialled 911."
"Blaine—" Kurt placed a hand over his mouth in shock.
"I was still able to see a little when I was brought to the hospital and that's where I was surprised to see my old pals, Nick and Jeff who did their best to keep me alive. So many doctors surrounded me in the I.C.U. and I began screaming when darkness began to cloud my vision completely. The last thing I ever saw was Nick's sweating face looking down on me with his mask on, telling me to fight on and stay with him but it got so dark..." He paused. "And I haven't seen anything since."
Santana stepped up to briefly tell them that she was heading back for the Towncar with tears in her eyes—the first time Kurt ever saw a vulnerable, emotional side of her. Ensuring their privacy, she left hastily, her breathing uneven as she vanished off.
"Oh Blaine, Santana and I are here for you." Kurt inched forward, reaching out to take Blaine's hands, the abandoned parking lot remaining silent as ever. "It's okay, I'm here now. I'll protect you. It's okay you can't see. It's alright, baby. You're
sweet, you're smart, you're gentle, you're beautiful...you're perfect."
His superior released a self-deprecating chuckle, "How can someone so broken be perfect?"
"No, Blaine, you're not broken. You're so much better than that homophobe who hurt you. You're not the guy before the attack anymore. You're honest, you're true. You let me in by what I say and do, not how I look like. You're not broken, you're perfect."
He wrapped his arms around his waist, Blaine instinctively hugging his neck, and he rocked him. "You're everything to me," the novelist muttered, cherishing his cologne and touch. Despite the autumn weather, Kurt always felt warm in his arms.
"I won't let anyone hurt you," Kurt declared.
Silence descended upon them, none saying a word, kissing and holding each other close.
Blaine retched into the toilet again, gripping the edge of the bowl, coughing, warm tears not improving his black vision at all. Kurt whispered loving words, soothingly running a hand up and down his back. The countertenor hated seeing him like this. Just this morning, they were so intimate and comfortable in bed together but now, as night fell, Blaine was a mess and he was there to pick up the pieces.
"I've got you," Kurt murmured. "You sure you don't want to visit the hospital? I'm sure Nick and Jeff would love to check up on you—"
"No!" Blaine shook his head. "I just want to stay here at home, with you and Santana."
"Okay, Santana's making dinner right now by the way. And if you want to stay home, then that's what we're doing."
"I'm just so scared. I've had nightmares almost everyday before you came along and I shit everyone out except Graham and Santana. I just wish none of this had happened."
"Okay, you need to calm down and breathe. Breathe, baby, breathe. That's right, slowly. Good, baby. In...out...in...out." The blind man obeyed, his trembling lessened. "What do you need?"
"I-I need to take a shower," he answered, still insecure.
"Okay, why don't I get you a towel, robe and gather your PJ's? Sounds good?"
"Thank you, Night Sky."
"Just yell for me if you need me, okay?" Kurt stood up when Blaine nodded and he ran off, task at hand. After returning from the bedroom, he placed them all on the counter and kissed Blaine on the cheek before leaving, his heart heavy with sorrow when he arrived at the kitchen where Santana was just finishing up.
"You okay, Porcelain?" she questioned, carefully distributing the omelettes onto three plates.
"Well, he's been feeling sick since we got back and I'm just trying to help—"
"Kurt, I asked if you are okay." She reiterated her query, interrupting him.
"I...I" he faltered. For some reason, that simple question intimidated him. For one thing, he was crazy about the poor, blind man and he was confident that he'd fallen too hard for him but on the other, he was unsure if he could truly help Blaine up. He wanted to care for him and yet, he seemed lost. He didn't know why. "I just feel so helpless."
"Hummel, your very presence here already makes him feel infinitely much better. Trust me, before you came along, he was a mess and he was ditched by practically everyone but his gold-digging asshole of a boyfriend and me and Graham. There were times when he screams late at night because of nightmares and when he eerily stayed silent for days. But these days, he's changed. And that's because of you."
Kurt finally realized why he felt so lost then; it's because he hasn't 100% been honest with Blaine. "I love him."
The words felt so foreign but he knew deep inside that they were true.
"If your presence here has greatly helped him so much, imagine how he'd feel if you told him that." Santana, in a rare moment of humility, beamed. And then, she left to tend the dining table, leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts. He turned to face Blaine's bedroom, the faint acoustics of his shower barely audible.
I love him. I'm in love with Blaine.
Blaine had been unusually quiet at dinner. Usually, Kurt's heart fluttered whenever he smiled and laughed between intakes but tonight, his heart was hurting. But it was emboldened as well. He knew now about how he truly felt for Blaine. And that scared him.
"Stay with me," Blaine's murmur was the first time he talked since. "Please."
"Of course, whatever you need." Kurt swore, tucking him into bed beside him and trudging over to get under the duvet too.
"Sorry for being silent at dinner, I just—"
"Hey, no. This is an apology-free zone. You were hurting, I get that. I just wish Santana and I could do more to help—"
"You being here with me is more than enough," Blaine leaned against his boyfriend, astonished by his warmth. "By the way, weren't you gonna tell me about what happened at high school?"
"I was but clearly, I need to be here for you first. I'll tell you someday soon, okay?"
A simple smile now, Blaine placed either hands on his face, breath hitching as he felt the familiar landscape and mountains of Kurt's delicate face.
The countertenor stared at his blue eyes, now heartbroken, knowing how they came to be. "I...I" Tell him. "Blaine—"
"What, Angel?"
Resting their foreheads together, Kurt whispered "I love you, Blaine."
The blind man gasped, taken aback. "Wh-what...you do?" He hadn't heard those words in forever and to hear from his angel himself...
"You're the most remarkable person I've ever met. On one hand, you're this humble gentleman who takes me to French restaurants and always listens when I feel down and on the other, you feel insecure and lost but I want you to know that I'm always here. I know you're hurt but this time, you have me. And I love you. I...I was afraid to admit it but when you were honest with me today, I realized how lost I'd be without you."
He loves me.
"Oh, Kurt." Blaine exhaled and captured his lips in a fiery kiss, tears welling up. "I'd be lost without you. You saved me from myself."
Now Kurt was crying, "I love you so much."
"I love you too," Blaine finally reciprocated, drawing him in for another kiss, their tongues dancing in harmony, hearts pumping in ecstasy, verbal communication now unnecessary. Neither man bothered to contain their moans that the contact caused them to make, both bolder than what occurred this morning. Despite Blaine's tongue practically plundering his throat and how his hands fisted in his shirt harshly, Kurt couldn't believe this was happening. Blaine loves him too—a sexy, gorgeous and changed man had fallen for him and the countertenor smiled tearfully at him when his blind lover pulled back, his lips wet and hair ruffled.
"Pretty pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel." Kurt soft-sang to Blaine as the lights went out, holding each other and kissing his closed eyes. "Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me..."
A/N: Let me know what you think! Blaine finally confessed and Klaine's officially in LOVE! The finishing of Blaine's novel, Graham, Rachel and the gang return up next :)