2021
Kurt spun through the tiny kitchen in their flat, careful not to spill hot coffee on his arm. He set the cup down next to Blaine. "Coffee on your left," he said, tucking his lips close to Blaine's ear and talking loud enough for Blaine to hear him over the music from his headphones.
Blaine nodded, but kept his attention on the words filling his laptop screen. A bright orange sticky note on the keyboard announced in bold Sharpie scribbles that Blaine had 7 days left to finish the revisions on his dissertation. He'd barely spoken two words to Kurt in over a week, and Kurt had done every bit of the cooking and housework during that week, but there was no way Kurt was going to complain about it. Not when Blaine was finally, finally so close to being done.
Kurt tugged one earbud out of Blaine's ear. "I'll be home by six, and I'll bring dinner and wine if you want."
"Please," Blaine groaned. "This is the section that Stephen said needed the most work, and it's killing me already. I could stand to get hammered tonight."
"Red or white?"
"Red. And white."
Kurt snickered to himself. "You got it. Have a productive day." He waited for a goodbye, but Blaine was already plugged back into his music, his fingers flying on his keyboard.
Even though he'd made Blaine a coffee, Kurt stopped for his own cafe au lait and pain au chocolate, his standard Friday treat. He was just leaving the bakery when his phone started ringing. "Oui, allô. C'est Kurt Hummel."
"Bonjour, Kurt Hummel." Dave's voice was echoey. "I'm not even going to try to massacre any more francais."
Kurt rolled his eyes and settled in at one of the outdoor cafe tables to talk to Dave and people-watch. "You're early this week."
"I didn't want to miss you. I'm sitting in the terminal at Heathrow waiting to board."
"Of course you are. And where is the destination today? Don't tell me his mentor's name's giving you a vacation again so soon."
"Moscow. There's a rumor that that anti-gay law is finally going to get overturned."
Kurt sucked in a breath. He knew Dave had witnessed plenty of violence in his travels, but he never could get used to the idea of Dave being in danger. "Be careful, please. All I hear is how unstable things still are. I never know how much to believe."
"Things are always unstable. I'll be fine. How's Blaine?"
"Still ABD. But really, really actually almost done now." He took a bite of his chocolate pastry. "Which means next month, at the soonest, but it still feels good to see him wrapping things up. You'd think they would let him submit it digitally, but no, they still want an enormous huge printout on paper."
"Will he have to go back to Austin for his defense?"
Kurt nodded, then remembered that Dave couldn't see him. "Yeah. I think we might make a trip out of it, stop off in Lima to see the fam. Puck's having another baby, and Sam and Tina are getting married at the end of the summer, so there are lots of people to see and catch up with."
"Jesus. I can't believe you even talk to these people anymore. Puck's married?"
"He's 'committed, asshole,' but not married. She's sweet. She teaches with Sam. Puck's a great dad." It wasn't hard to say that, even though it had been almost three years since he'd even seen Puck and Leah. "I think he likes being a dad more than anybody else I know."
"Not like you're surrounded by people with rugrats or anything. You and your high-society fashion soirees and weekends at the dance club."
"The club isn't my scene and you fucking know it," Kurt said angrily before sighing. "Sorry. You don't deserve the anger that's meant for someone else."
"I can take it." Dave's voice was mild. Kurt could hear the loudspeaker announcing another flight, this time in two languages other than English. "So how are you and Blaine going to celebrate Dr. Anderson's completion, if not at the club?"
"I'm sure we'll find a way," Kurt says, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Lots of things have been neglected this last year. It'll be good to have some normalcy back."
"One can always hope. We're boarding; I should probably go. But I'll call you next week, all right? I might be back in London by then, if things go as planned."
"All right." Kurt sighed. "Be safe, okay?"
"You know I can't promise that."
Kurt closed his eyes and remembered Dave, drunk and mourning. "I know."
They seldom used the words I love you, or anything that sounded like that, not because either of them didn't feel it but because it didn't need to be said. But Kurt still felt the need to ask Dave to be safe. Don't disappear, he wanted to say. Stay in my life. Instead, he set his phone down on the table and picked at the remainder of his pastry, trying to distract himself from the images of Dave in an unfamiliar city. Of course Dave could take care of himself. Everything would be okay.
Kurt told his dad he didn't need to meet them at the airport when they flew back from Austin, but he insisted. He was even holding a Congrats, Grad! balloon when he and Blaine came through security into the baggage claim. It made Blaine laugh and Kurt hide his face in embarrassment.
"I don't get too many chances to be the proud dad anymore," he said, hugging both of them. "Just give your old man a break, huh? And what's a defense, anyway? Did they come at you with swords or something?"
Blaine laughed heartily. "I wish. That might have been easier. I used to be pretty good, when I took fencing lessons. They basically asked me every question they could think of about my dissertation, about my research. I had to prove that I'd actually read the source material, and stuff like that. It was tedious, but it's done now."
"Doctor Anderson." Burt looked him up and down. "You don't look any different to me. But, then, neither did I after I took the oath of office, and people started calling me Senator Hummel. This'll be just as weird for you, I'm sure. Now come on, let's get your bags; Carole's made every food in the universe for the three of you."
"Good," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand and following Burt through the crowd. "Airport food sucks, and I'm starving."
Kurt barely made it through the door of the house before Finn grabbed him and wrapped him up in a bear hug.
"Hey, little brother," Finn whispered in his ear.
"Can't. Breathe." Kurt gasped out through laughter and the strength of Finn's arms crushing his diaphragm. Finn let go and stepped back, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I just missed you."
Kurt straightened his t-shirt. "It's okay. I missed you too, Finn."
Being in the house, settling into his old bedroom with Blaine, made him realize how true that was. He actually found himself feeling nostalgic for Lima. Carole's cooking was nothing at all like the food he was used to eating, and it tasted delicious. The five of them sat around the table for most of the evening.
"How's the world of fashion in Paris, Kurt?" Carole asked, sipping her coffee. "I really don't understand most of what I see people wearing in magazines these days. It barely looks like clothing to me."
"It's just part of the pageantry. Vogue in Paris is different from Vogue in New York, but it's all a fantasy."
Blaine was smiling at him. "It's nice to come home from the university and escape into that world at night. I don't know what I would have done without Kurt to keep my life from becoming nothing but writing and research."
"It's nice to be back in Lima for a few days," Kurt said. He was pretty sure if he tried to talk about their life in Paris, he would end up saying something he would regret later. "A chance to catch up with old friends."
Burt reached across the table and snagged a cookie from the plate in front of Carole. "Speaking of old friends, I ran into Paul Karofsky at Ray's a few weeks back. He said that David is quite the world traveler. Apparently he's based in London. Do you two still keep in touch?"
Kurt twisted his napkin between his fingers. "We talk," he said. "We haven't seen each other in a few years, though. He's a photographer for the BBC Magazine."
Blaine turned to Finn. "Did you find a place you like in midtown, Finn?"
Finn shook his head. "Not yet. I'll keep looking, though. Chicago's expensive on a social worker's salary. I guess maybe I'm being too picky, but I don't want to live in a walk-up, and I want a better view than an alley or a brick wall."
Kurt tuned out the talk about apartments. He was grateful to Blaine for steering the conversation away from Dave, but he was a little annoyed because it felt like Blaine had rushed to do so for his own comfort rather than Kurt's. Dave was never going to be an easy topic between them; Kurt was still (and probably always going to be, if he was honest) protective of his friendship with Dave. He didn't want it, or the stress it caused with Blaine, to be aired out in front of his whole family.
He started paying attention again when his dad brought up one of the bills he was going to co-sponsor once the summer recess was over, but the damage was done. He couldn't get Dave or Blaine out of his head. When Carole asked if anyone would like dessert, he made some excuse about being tired and went upstairs to his old room.
Blaine, when he came to join him later, was careful and quiet.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, his back turned to Kurt as he rummaged in his suitcase for a sleep shirt. "I didn't mean to cut you off about Dave, but you looked uncomfortable."
"It was fine," Kurt told him, and even though it wasn't a lie, the bitterness of untruth stung in his throat. "It's just, I don't think anyone really understands Dave and me being friends. I didn't feel like explaining it again."
The words he wanted to say, the questions he wanted to ask Blaine - does it make you uncomfortable? are you threatened by him? why can't you of all people understand? - got clogged in his brain and instead of asking them, he stayed silent.
He brushed his teeth and crawled into clean crisp sheets that smelled vaguely of the cedar chest. It was odd, being in the room that used to be his. It was even more odd being there with Blaine, and some seventeen year old part of his brain was a little worried that he'd still get in trouble for having a boy in his bed.
When Blaine crawled in next to him, disturbing the little pocket of warmth Kurt had created for himself, he pretended he was already asleep.
In a way, Kurt wasn't surprised to find Finn sitting at the kitchen table at two in the morning, waiting with an empty mug in front of him.
"You still make it better than I do," he said.
Kurt yawned, rubbing his eyes. "That's because I actually stand there and stir it, so it doesn't burn on the bottom of the pan."
"I can be your cheerleader while you stir." Finn followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while Kurt rummaged in the fridge. "So what's on your mind?"
"Too many things. Why do you ask?"
"I just figured there would be questions. You know, things left unsaid at dinner?"
Kurt set the milk down on the counter and sighed. "Leave it to you to be intuitive. Did it ever occur to you that I don't want to talk about the stuff that goes unsaid?"
Finn scratched his head, looking uncertain. "I... was talking about me. You have something to tell me, too?"
"Oh." A wave of uneasiness came over him. "What is it? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. You know, life's complicated, it's hard sometimes being alone so far from mom and Burt and everybody, but... yeah, I'm good. Happy." He paused. "Do you remember back in high school, how Blaine put on that prom for you? He organized everything so it was super gay-friendly."
That was the last thing Kurt wanted to think about, the way things had been so strained between him and Dave that night. He busied himself with setting the temperature on the stove. "Of course I remember."
"Something happened that night."
"Yeah. You were there when it happened. Me and David on the practice field. But I just don't think I can face telling Dad about that. It's too complicated."
"Telling him about what?"
"David. He's..." Kurt glanced at him. "You promise you won't tell anybody?"
"Kurt, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I promise, I can keep a secret." Finn let out a bitter laugh. "Whatever it is. You and Dave? He left town that night, right?"
"Yes, but since then we've been... close. Friends, for a long time. Years. And then more than friends. His lover died and I went to Paris to see him, and we..."
Finn didn't look shocked. He was grinning. "Really? You, Kurt? Does Blaine know?"
"Of course Blaine knows," he snapped. "You think I could cheat on Blaine, after what happened with that boy in high school? Blaine's been encouraging us all along."
"Oh, yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "The three of you?"
"No!" Kurt protested. "God. No. It's just... sometimes. Special occasions, and... he's my friend, and... do we really have to talk about this?"
"Hey, I'm just asking about my brother's life," Finn said, holding up both hands in defense. "You don't have to tell me, but I want to know. It's not such a big deal. I mean, check out what Jake's doing with his foursome."
Kurt blinked. "His... what?"
"You didn't hear about this? He and Marley and Ryder and Unique. It took them a while to figure it out, but they've been together three, maybe four years now. They're even having a baby. They're happy, man." He side-eyed Kurt. "And you? Are you happy?"
"Sure," Kurt said, letting the easy, familiar lie slide off his tongue. He didn't even think about it anymore. Of course he was happy. He had no reason to be unhappy.
"Hey." Finn's voice was sharp. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying!" Kurt insisted, stirring the milk with enough force to splash hot droplets on the tender skin on the inside of his arm. "Shit!" he hissed, and wiped his arm across the front of his T-shirt. "I'm not lying," he said again, softer. "How can it be a lie when I don't even know what the truth is?"
"So what's going on?"
Kurt turned off the heat under the pan and carefully poured milk into two mugs. He waited until they both had the mugs in their hands to even try putting words to his feelings. "I love Blaine. I do. But this year, with his dissertation, we're so distant. Disconnected. I don't even know what I want, where I want to go, if I . . ." he paused, felt his heart pound. The words were right there, the thoughts he hadn't let himself explore. Saying them would make them real. He closed his eyes. "I don't know if I want to stay with him or not."
Finn nodded sympathetically. "Did he tell you what he wanted, now that he's done? Is he applying for positions?"
Kurt shook his head. "We haven't talked about it at all. Not a word."
"Well, what do you think he wants? You guys are going to move to wherever his job is, right? Isn't that how it works with academics? Santana ended up following Britt to Stanford."
Kurt sighed. "If I had to guess, I'd say that Blaine wants a job, and someone who will love him without having half his heart caught up in someone else. And he wants someone who doesn't mind the clubs or the boys. He deserves that. I just don't know if I'm the one who can give it to him anymore."
"I'm sorry it's been hard," Finn said, hugging him tight, then leaning back to look at him. "But when I brought up prom night, you and Dave wasn't actually where I was going. I guess more than one thing happened that night."
"What happened?"
"I told Puck I was thinking about joining the Army."
"You what?" Kurt couldn't help it; he laughed. "You, in the Army?"
"I know, I know. Don't judge me, I was freaking out, I didn't know what to do. Puck got totally pissed when I told him, which is I guess what I wanted. I wanted him to tell me not to go."
"He must have."
Finn smiled ruefully. "Yeah, it was a pretty big mess. I told him I was in love with him."
Kurt set his mug down on the stove and stared at Finn. Finn laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head.
"He didn't take it very well. Kind of stopped talking to me for a while. But it was a big enough deal that I decided I couldn't follow Rach to New York. I had to figure out who I was."
"You're gay?" Kurt said, incredulous.
"I'm bi," Finn clarified. "Which, I'll tell you, is kind of a lonely situation for a guy, even in a city as big as Chicago. I end up with a lot of guys telling me thanks but no thanks when they find out I still date women. There's this stereotype..." He trailed off, blushing. "Okay, I probably don't need to educate you."
"I don't know, Finn. You might have to." Kurt touched Finn's arm in amazement. "I can't believe you didn't tell me about any of this. You know I would have been fine with it, right?"
"I know. I just wanted to tell you in person. And after you went to New York, I barely saw you at all. It took me a while before I was comfortable with myself."
He led Kurt over to the table, bearing his mug of now-lukewarm milk. They sat across from one another, Kurt looking at Finn with new eyes. Actually, he barely looked any different from he had ten years ago.
"And you and Puck, you're still friends. I know you are - I mean, you're here, after all. I take it he got over himself?"
Finn rolled his eyes. "You could say that. You might remember he came back from L.A. with Jake and found me at college? We pretty much lived together for a while."
"Oh my god." Kurt put a hand to his mouth. "You mean, while you were in that fraternity, the two of you...?"
"They knew. Everybody at college knew about us. Puck was still banging every chick that came around, and there we were... well."
"Fucking each other's brains out?" Kurt said dryly. Finn smothered the noise that came out of his mouth.
"Are you trying to make me wake everybody up?" He sighed. "But, yeah, pretty much. And then he met Leah, and eventually he stopped dating other girls, and then he came to me and said he had to stop seeing me too. So I transferred to DePaul."
"That's why you left Lima?"
"Yeah. And I don't come back much. I haven't been home since Burt's election night in 2018. I think Mom and Burt understand."
Kurt was surprised yet again. "She knows about you guys? You're out to Carole and Dad? God, I feel so out of the loop."
"Don't feel bad. I haven't told anybody else at home. But I wasn't going to miss Sam and Tina's wedding just because I'm..." He shrugged halfheartedly. "It's stupid, but... I never got over him. And here he is with three kids, and... Leah's great, but I hate that it's not me, doing that with him."
"Oh, Finn," Kurt whispered. Finn waved an impatient hand.
"I'm okay. I've been dealing with it this long. But believe me when I say you really need to figure out what you want, and don't want, with Blaine."
They put their empty mugs in the sink, and Kurt took Finn into one more hug. "Thanks for the milk. And for talking to me about everything. I really want to hear about your adventures in Chicago's bi-unfriendly community."
He laughed. "It's not as bad as all that. I've dated some really nice guys, and girls. But none of them were what I wanted."
Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I think I can understand that."
Going back to bed seemed almost impossible after that, but Kurt said good night anyway and went upstairs to sit on his window seat, looking out over the wild growth of Carole's garden. Blaine didn't stir. After a few minutes of restless wakefulness, he found his phone and sent a text.
I don't even know what time it is where you are, or if you're awake, or in an area with a signal, but I could use a hug.
The response came relatively quickly. Bangladesh. Twelve hour difference, so it's afternoon here. Do you want me to call you?
Can't. He found himself on the edge of tears, and struggled to keep them under control. I'll be okay. You'll never guess who just came out to me.
I can't even remember everybody's name. Do I get a hint?
You spotted me with him in the choir room junior year, teaching him how to dance for his mother's wedding.
Finn? came Dave's response, with two question marks. No shit. I always wondered about him and Puck.
Well, it came as a complete surprise to me, considering he rebuffed all my advances in high school.
There's no accounting for taste.
Kurt smiled at the phone, luminescent in the darkness. You're making me blush. He hesitated before adding, I told him about us.
Dave's next reply was longer to come. How did he take that news?
My brother is a lot more open minded than a lot of people. I think he was actually happy for us.
Kurt paused with the phone in his hand, staring at the waiting prompt. He wondered what would happen if he typed the words I'm thinking about leaving Blaine and pressed Send. His fingers stayed where they were. Eventually he said, I'm going to try to go back to sleep.
I'm on location tonight, but I'll be around tomorrow morning if you want to find me after dinner.
I'll do that. Be safe.
I'll try. Shubhoratri, Kurt.
He could only guess it was something like "goodbye" or "take care" in whatever language was spoken in Bangladesh. For all Kurt knew, Dave might be tossing insults at him. He left the phone on the window seat and returned to his side of the bed, crawling in under the covers and letting Blaine wind his arms around him in his sleep.
"Kurt Hummel!" a voice called from under the tent that all but filled Tina's parents' backyard. "Come over here and give Unique a hug."
Kurt picked his way carefully around tent stakes and string to where Unique was standing beside the bar, a half-drunk flute of champagne in one hand and her other hand clasped in Jake's. He hugged them both, glancing around. "Where are the other two?"
"So you've heard. I've lost track of who knows and who doesn't. Although the gaping mouths and enormous eyes are a dead giveaway." She looked nothing but happy, calmly gesturing at the house. "Ryder's the one with an iron stomach. Poor Marley. Everyone says the morning sickness will get better, but considering so far it's been more like all day sickness, I'm not holding my breath."
Kurt glanced back and forth between the two of them, biting his lip, and Jake laughed. "You might as well ask. Everybody else does."
"Um... okay? So who's the -"
"We're pretty sure it's Ryder." He shrugged. "Maybe we'll be able to tell when he's born -"
"Or she," Unique interjected.
"- or she, and maybe we won't."
Kurt nodded. "I admit I was a little surprised when Finn told me, but I really am happy for you guys."
"We'll take a little surprised over get away, we never want to see you again." Unique's words were mild, but Jake's arm came around her shoulder and held on. "So far the balance is about fifty-fifty. Not too many people who don't have an opinion about this one. Thankfully, Sam and Tina have been completely, fiercely on our side."
Kurt laughed. "You should send Tina after the haters. She's always been beyond amazing at taking care of herself and the people she loves."
Unique smiled in wistful consideration. "That would be a sight to behold."
"Have you heard the story about the time she convinced Figgins that she and her dad were really vampires?"
"No." Unique shook her head and was about to say something else when Blaine appeared at Kurt's side.
"T sent me to find you," Blaine said into his ear, giving a little wave to Jake and Unique. "She's having a wardrobe malfunction."
Kurt shook his head. "I told her that yellow dress was all wrong, but would she listen to me? No. I just want to be comfortable, Kurt. It was worse than prom dress shopping, I swear." He kissed Blaine's cheek. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
He left Blaine talking with the others and wound his way through the caterers in the kitchen and pockets of Cohens, Changs, and Evanses in the living room, up the familiar stairway to Tina's second floor bedroom. Tina flung her door open at the sound of his steps. "Thank god. You were right, Kurt. The yellow dress is horrible. I don't know what I was thinking. And I don't have a lot of other options." Her wedding dress was draped over the back of her desk chair, and she was in ratty sweatpants and a faded green Dartmouth T-shirt.
"It may be a casual backyard reception, but you can't go down in that. So let's see." Kurt thumbed through the closet, which was largely full of high school fashions. Way at the back, though, he found a fairly simple sleeveless blue shift dress, cotton-linen blend with darker blue embroidery snaking along the hem and around the collar. "Does this still fit?" he asked, pressing it into her hands.
"Probably." Tina shrugged at him. "Sam makes me go running with him. If this doesn't work, I'll have to suck it up and borrow something from my mom."
While she changed, Kurt kept his eyes on the pictures all over Tina's room: the original six members of Glee Club, she and Mike at prom, standing between her parents at her graduations from McKinley and Brown, sitting on the edge of the stage at McKinley with Blaine and Sam during their senior year.
"It's so strange, the ways we all keep coming back together," he said. "You and Blaine, Sam and Mercedes... she didn't even come to the wedding, did she?"
"I think it was just too hard for her. Not that I blame her." She stepped into the dress and Kurt moved forward to zip up the back.
"Nobody's at fault, though. Things change. People change." He pulled the zipper up and turned her around. "You look beautiful."
"Don't think you can hide from me, Kurt. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He pushed the lie out, because he and Tina weren't close like they used to be and anyway, she was more Blaine's friend than his. "Really. Things are good."
God, how he wanted to just tell someone so it didn't feel like he was carrying an awful burden, but he was scared. Saying the words, letting his thoughts out into the world, would make his idea real, and he wasn't ready yet. Besides, who was he going to tell? He didn't find friends wherever he went like Blaine did; it had never been easy for him to open up to people.
He put on a brave smile. "Anything else I can do?"
"You could take Preston out. He's going insane in his kennel, with all these people here."
"I can do that. I'm sure Blaine wants to see him." He gave her one more hug. "Don't hide up here all afternoon, okay? Or I'll send Blaine up to find you."
Preston was whimpering when Kurt got back down to the kitchen. He took the leash that was on top of the kennel and opened the door. "Hey, Preston. Hey, boy." Kurt held his hand out for the dog to sniff. "We're going to go out and see your dad. I hope you remember him. I think he'll be sad if you don't." He clipped the leash to Preston's collar and led him around the caterers and out into the yard.
Blaine was leaning against the bar with a beer, talking with Sam. Finn was lingering along the edge of the grass. Kurt joined him, letting Preston sniff at the grass before taking him over to Finn.
"You okay?" Kurt asked gently.
"Peachy," Finn replied. "I didn't realize that distance doesn't always make the heart grow fonder." Kurt followed Finn's gaze to the dance floor, where Puck was holding hands and dancing a careful Ring around the Rosie with his daughter.
"Is this about him or about you?"
Finn shrugged. "Probably me. I think he and I would be fine, but me and Lima are definitely not fine. How can you stand being here without feeling like this town is going to smother you?"
Kurt smiled wistfully. "I don't know. It looks pretty good to me. It is home, you know? And it would be such a good place to raise a family."
"No." Finn shook his head. "No. This is not a good place to raise a family. Do you suddenly not remember what it was like for you, here? Shit, Kurt. You deserve so much better than Lima."
Kurt squatted down and scratched Preston's head, between his ears. "But what if I end up with no place else to go?" It was the closest he could get to admitting the thoughts that had been plaguing him during the trip.
"Then you'll come stay with me in Chicago. I have a pull out couch, I cook a pretty decent macaroni and cheese, and I'm pretty much celibate, so. No worries about interrupting anything."
Kurt snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."
Carole sidled up beside the two of them, holding a tiny bundled blanket in her arms. She looked like she might cry any moment. "Have you seen her yet, Finn?" She tucked back the corner of the blanket to reveal a sleeping pink-faced baby.
Finn's grin looked genuine. "Which one is this?"
"This is Cleo. Sunny is teaching her Uncle Jake a thing or two about infants. I hear he needs the practice!" She held out the bundle to Finn, and he took it awkwardly. "You could use some of that, too."
"Um, okay?" He gave Kurt an oh god save me look, and Kurt smiled, rescuing the baby from Finn's hands.
"Here. I'll trade you - Preston for Cleo."
"Thanks, man." Finn stared down into Preston's excited eyes. "Whaddaya think, boy. Wanna go see Blaine?"
Kurt watched them go, and held Cleo close to him, rubbing her soft blanket between his fingers and humming to her under his breath. Her weight in his arms was an unexpected comfort and a sadness all at the same time. He suddenly felt frantic, and he needed a few minutes to collect himself. He flagged Unique down and handed her the baby.
"Auntie Unique needs the practice too," he cooed to Cleo, and Unique just scoffed at him as she danced away, rocking the baby like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It was quiet enough behind the deck that Kurt took his phone out of his pocket and sent Dave a text. Tina got perfect weather for her reception.
It's monsoon season here, Dave replied. The rain is strong enough to knock you over sometimes.
Kurt was about to reply that he was glad to be in Lima for once when a voice from above startled him. "And who's... Dave, hmm?"
He looked up to see Santana leaning on the edge of the railing, peering at the name listed at the top of his phone. He quickly tucked it close to his chest, even though it was too late. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to look at other people's screens, Santana?"
"All the time. And you? Aren't you practically a married man, Kurt? Since when do you skulk around sending texts to other men?"
"That's Blaine's job," he muttered, but Santana's eyes were already growing wide. She hurried down the stairs to the grass.
"That wouldn't be Dave Karofsky, would it? But, no, he's going by DJ these days, isn't he? At least that's what his byline would indicate." Somehow she managed to reach out and snag his phone, ignoring Kurt's protestations. "Jesus, Kurt. It is Dave. What the hell?"
"We're friends. Would you give that back?" He glared at her. "I don't think I owe you an explanation."
She was typing quickly. "Only as far as I know, you're the only one he's still talking to. He practically vanished after he went to Thurston."
"World traveler, international student of nations affected by genocide, photographer, blogger, you're welcome." He reached again, but she evaded his hands. "Santana!"
"Hang on, I'm waiting for his reply. So is that rumor I heard about what happened between you guys true?"
"Probably not. We both lead remarkably boring lives." He winced as she laughed at what she was reading. "Do I want to know what that was about?"
She tossed the phone back so suddenly that he almost dropped it. "If you're that worried about what he might say, I think the rumors must be true."
Santana had said So what does Fancy have that I don't have?, to which Dave had replied, You want me to write you a list? and then added, How PG do I have to be?
That was Santana, he told Dave. She's far too nosy for her own good.
Ah, said Dave. Not very PG, then.
"At least text me his number," she said, waving Kurt's threatening motions away. "Let me harass him directly."
"Fine. Whatever."
She's just as impossible as she was ten years ago, Kurt texted.
So are you, Dave pointed out.
Once the tables had been cleared of everything but dessert plates and the DJ switched from instrumental mealtime music to dance hits and retro pop, Kurt appropriated a second chair and set his feet on it, leaning back a little to watch everyone dance in comfort. He was interrupted by a tug on his sleeve and a small girl climbing onto his lap.
"Hewwo," she said seriously. "You're Kurt. My daddy said that you know the Beyonce dance."
"I do know the Beyonce dance, but I don't know your name." He looked into her wide eyes, exactly like Puck's. "Let me think. You're much too big to be Sunny, and I held Cleo earlier. So you must be . . . Savannah!"
"Yes! Sunny and Cweo are babies and I'm three!" She held up three fingers with grave seriousness. "Wiww you teach me the dance?"
Savannah was a good student for a preschooler. She copied his every move, aside from collapsing in giggles on the grass instead of slapping her butt. Instead she squealed "butt! butt!" and got grass stains on the knees of her white tights. After about 45 minutes, she was laughing more than she was dancing.
Kurt scooped her up and sat with her, turning her so she could watch Puck and Leah and Uncow Jake dance. He ran his hand gently over her dark curls, felt her slightly sticky hand rubbing along the back of his arm until her motion slowed and then stopped and her breathing was slow and deep.
"Shhhh," he whispered when Finn dropped into the chair next to him. "She's sleeping."
"You look good with a kid. It suits you."
The comment inspired another wave of wistful solace. He rested his cheek on her hair.
"What do you really want, Kurt?"
"What do you mean?"
"You told me yesterday you didn't know what Blaine wanted. Well, what about you? What do you want?"
Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in Savannah's little girl scent: baby shampoo, soap, and the sticky-sweet remnants of cake and frosting. "I want this," he said, softly. "I want a family and a home and to stop feeling so damn lonely."
Finn put a hand on Kurt's arm. "You totally deserve that, little brother."
They sat there together until Puck and Leah stumbled over, pushing the stroller bearing sleeping twins. "And number three," Leah said, reaching out to gather up Savannah's limp form. "Thanks for hanging out with her, Kurt."
"No problem. She's really sweet." He held Puck's gaze. "You have a lovely family, Noah."
"Way better than I deserve, man." Puck gave the stroller a little push toward the driveway. "I'll go get them in their car seats."
Finn watched him go. "More words than I heard from him all night."
"That's because you were avoiding each other all night," said Kurt.
Leah shrugged at Kurt. "You'd never know that they used to be best friends, would you?"
"Oh, no, it was the same way in high school. I think they barely made eye contact at Mr. Schue's not-wedding."
She hitched Savannah higher up on her shoulder. "I could arrange for him not to be busy tomorrow if you want to come get him for a couple hours. God knows he could use a little time away from his family."
Finn stammered in surprise. "Uh. Yeah. Sure. That would be great."
Leah smiled at both of them. "Perfect. It's still all-you-can-eat waffles at Fat Jack's on Sundays, and we haven't been since I went on bed rest before the twins were born. He'd love that."
"Cool. It's a . . ." Finn swallowed visibly before continuing. "It's a date."
"It was so great to see everybody again," Blaine said, carefully hanging his sport jacket back on its hanger. "Didn't Sam look good?"
"Tina said he's been running again." Kurt could still smell the scent of Savannah on his hands. He wondered if it was creepy that he didn't want to wash them, just to keep the memory of her close.
"I wish we could come back to visit more often," Blaine went on, calling into the bathroom from the bedroom.
"Me, too. I never thought it would be possible, but the longer I'm away the more I miss it."
"We could always have folks come visit us, too, you know. People say Paris is a destination."
But it's not the same, Kurt wanted to say. Paris isn't home. The realization stopped him dead, toothbrush halfway to his mouth. Shit. Say something, say something he urged his brain. "It is that," he finally managed. "And we might want people to come and visit before we leave, right?"
There was a pause. "Well, sure. It's not like we're leaving right away. I mean, you like it there, right?"
"I do, but you came there because of me and now you're done with school, so we'll need to go wherever you find a job. I can work remotely from anywhere, really."
Blaine appeared in the doorway, his tie loose around his neck and his shirt half-unbuttoned. "Yeah? That's what I was thinking, but... I didn't want to assume anything."
"I know how academics works. We'll go where you can find a job." Even as he said the words, he could feel the resentment that followed them. It was fair. Blaine had come to Paris with him, and now he would go wherever Blaine needed him. It didn't matter that he'd still be the one making the money, while Blaine would be doing what he loved.
"And what if I told you that I found a job in Paris?"
Kurt turned to look at him, but Blaine didn't appear to be joking. He was watching Kurt, hope evident on his face. Kurt set the toothbrush down on the counter.
"You took a job without talking to me first?"
Blaine's smile faded into something uncertain and vaguely wounded. "I thought you would be happy about it. Or at least happy for me."
"Of course I am."
"Because you know I'm doing this for us, Kurt," he insisted. You've been supporting me all this time while I'm in school. Now I want to pull my weight. I want to do something that matters. For us. So I asked Stephen to make some calls, and..." He trailed off, looking at Kurt. "But you're not happy about it."
"I'm surprised." Kurt took a deep breath, mostly to give himself time to force his jumbled thoughts into something more linear. "I guess I just thought you'd want to come back to the States."
"You love Paris."
"I do, but it's not home." I don't know where home is, though, so don't ask.
Blaine stood before him, too far away to reach out and take his hands. "Don't tell me you want to come back to Lima."
"Not Lima, necessarily. Just, someplace closer. Seeing Puck with his family, spending time with Finn, I miss that." Kurt chose his next words carefully. "I know things are still strained with your parents; even after all these years, I see what their phone calls and emails do to you. But I miss my family."
"So much for wherever I find a job." Blaine had given up on getting undressed and was just staring accusingly at Kurt. "It doesn't matter where we go. It's never going to be good enough for you."
"It's not a matter of good enough or not. It's that just once in my life I'd like to feel like I really belong somewhere."
"Kurt, that's not something you can find. That's something you have to make happen. You and me, we were going to be a team." He looked so hurt, but Kurt wasn't in any position to stop and comfort him. "Why do I feel like you've been working against me this whole time?"
"You can't blame me for not working with you. I've been completely supportive of you. Your degree, everything you wanted - god, Blaine!" He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "Are you even listening to me? The nightlife, the clubs, all your friends in Paris - it's not any different from what we were doing in New York. I feel totally isolated there. What kind of a place would that be to raise a family, to have kids?"
"I don't want to have kids!" Blaine burst out. "Jesus, Kurt! I spend all my time writing, teaching, working my ass off at the university. I don't want to have to be tied down taking care of somebody else. What's wrong with wanting to relax when I come home? I want to be with you."
"You want to be with the real me, or the me you've idealized in your head?"
Blaine tilted his head and stared at Kurt, something cold and distant in his eyes. "Like how you've idealized me?"
"I don't-"
"Oh, don't even, Kurt. Please. We owe each other that much, at least. You've always held me up as some kind of perfect boyfriend, which is pretty rich considering that we both know I'm not who you really want."
Kurt flinched at the pain in Blaine's voice. "You always told me - you said you wouldn't make me choose between the two of you."
"I thought you had chosen. I thought you wanted a life with me. You know I never would have minded you having him, too. But I see it, the way you can't help comparing us." He made a vague gesture at the world outside, everything that wasn't Blaine-and-Kurt. "Our real relationship is never going to live up to the possibility of a relationship with Dave Karofsky."
He felt his anger flare up. "It's not about Dave, Blaine. It's about us, and the fact that you say you want a home with me, but if you really meant that you wouldn't go to the clubs and go home with boys who expect nothing but a fuck-and-run. You say you're not enough for me, but clearly I'm not enough for you, either."
"No, Kurt, the difference here is I never tried to pretend I was anything other than who I am. I'm happy with you. You give me exactly what I need. That's obviously not how you feel about me. I'm not your home." Blaine shook his head, looking suddenly defeated. "I don't know if I can deal with that anymore."
"Are you breaking up with me?" Kurt thought he should feel panicked or scared, but in that moment, all he felt was exhausted. "In my dad's house?"
Blaine rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be so dramatic about it. I'll go sleep on the couch. We can talk about this tomorrow."
Kurt couldn't get settled in his room after Blaine had taken a pillow and dragged the comforter down the stairs behind him. He hovered in the hallway, staring helplessly at the photos on the wall, until Finn's door opened and he poked his head out.
"I heard the yelling," Finn said. "Did he take off?"
"He's downstairs."
Finn nodded. "You wanna come in?"
The sewing room had a tiny bed in the corner, one that was far too small for Finn. Kurt sat on it, feeling lost, while Finn waited by the door.
"Do you want to call Dave? I can - leave you alone, if you want."
"No." Kurt shook his head. "I don't think I can talk to him right now. I should be downstairs, convincing Blaine that we're going to be okay, but I don't know how to do that when I don't believe it's true."
"I'm really sorry, man," Finn said softly.
Kurt shrugged. "Thanks, I guess. I think- I think this has been coming for a long time, really."
"Yeah, I remember how that felt. Doesn't make it any easier." He sat down next to him on the bed, yawning. "I doubt we can both fit on that mattress, but I bet Mom still has a sleeping bag in the hall closet. If you want me to stay."
"It's stupid." Kurt stared at his knees and laughed bitterly. "I don't know how to sleep alone anymore. Even when Blaine would - with other guys, I'd mostly stay up on the couch, watching old movies."
"It's not stupid. And it's okay, little brother. You don't have to sleep alone tonight."
Finn ended up squashed up against the wall, being an awkward big spoon, while Kurt made himself as small as he could in his arms. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but Kurt wasn't going to complain.
"Blaine really goes to the club and picks up guys?" Finn asked.
"Still does. Not all that often. It's not so bad, I guess. I mean, he doesn't object when I see Dave. It felt only fair to let him do what he wanted to do."
"Yeah, I felt kind of the same way when Puck and I were together. It was what I could get. Maybe not good enough, but... something, anyway." He sighed. "Now, watching him with Leah... he seems happy enough. I don't really want to mess with that."
"You mean by telling him how you feel?"
"He knows how I feel."
Kurt turned his head to look at Finn's pensive face in the dark. "You really think he does?"
"He wouldn't be with Leah if he didn't want to be. Puck does what he wants."
Finn sounded so resigned that Kurt had to hug him, a little half-arm pat on the back. "I'm sorry. You deserve to be happy."
"As much as anybody does, I guess. I'll figure it out. And you will, too, little brother."
The bed was neatly made and Blaine was already dressed when Kurt stumbled, bleary-eyed and stiff, back across the hall the next morning. Blaine's suitcase was open at the foot of the bed, almost completely packed.
"I thought we were going to talk this morning," Kurt said.
Blaine kept his back to Kurt. "I changed my ticket to go back today. You should stay for the week, like we planned. We need space, Kurt. We both need to decide what we want and how best to have it. Neither of us deserves to be someone else's compromise. We've loved too long and too hard for that."
"You're not leaving me, though."
Blaine shook his head. "No. Not until we have a real chance to talk, without anger. But I think this'll be good for us."
Kurt's words formed a lump in his throat, and he had to work to force them out. "You're probably right."
Blaine zipped his suitcase, set it on the floor, and shouldered his laptop bag. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Kurt, pulled him into a hug that Kurt expected to feel awkward, but wasn't. "I love you, and I just want us both to be happy."
"I love you, too," Kurt whispered. "I'll see you next week. Travel safe."
"I will."
Kurt watched from the window until Blaine had loaded his luggage and himself into the back of a taxi. Only after the cab was gone and the street was empty and quiet again did Kurt realize that neither of them had talked about Paris as home.