Chapter 17: A Disquiet Follows My Soul

When Blaine accused Kurt of cheating because of Chandler's flirty texts, Kurt's first inclination was to laugh hysterically. If Blaine only knew! But instead Kurt did what was expected of him – he appeared appropriately contrite and sang "I Have Nothing" to appease Blaine's suspicions. Groveling in front of his peers about harmless, hapless Chandler seemed a small price to pay, given the truth about Sebastian that Kurt carried as a weight on his heart.

After graduation, Kurt moved to New York City to pursue his dreams. Blaine stayed behind in Lima to finish his senior year and they tried to make a go of things long distance. It didn't work out so well. First came missed skype dates, then missed calls and texts ignored. In October, Blaine visited New York, but he was acting weird and emotional the whole time. Kurt felt like they were walking on eggshells around each other.

Finally Kurt couldn't stand the unrelenting sense of dread that hung over this whole visit. "Please stop pretending that there's nothing wrong," he said after Blaine practically burst into tears while singing "Teenage Dream" at Callbacks.

"I was with someone." Blaine looked anguished. "I'm so, so sorry, Kurt. It didn't mean anything. I just … I needed you and you weren't there and I was lonely."

Objectively speaking, it sounded pretty lame, like Blaine was blaming Kurt for his own weakness, but Kurt was actually relieved. This was his chance to come clean, if he just had the courage to take it.

"I slept with Sebastian." There. He finally said it.

Blaine looked stunned and actually took a step back as if recoiling from a blow. "W-what? When?"

Kurt told him everything. "I did it for you," he pleaded, grasping Blaine's hand and searching his face for understanding. "I did it for us. I was so afraid of losing you."

They talked late into the night. There were many tears. In the end, they hugged each other tight and forgave each other, vowing to put their mutual indiscretions behind them and move forward as a stronger couple. With complete honesty. And for several months thereafter, that was absolutely true.

But then Blaine graduated and got into NYADA. Naturally, he moved in with Kurt and they even talked about marriage. But soon enough, the fighting started. Some of it was fueled by Kurt's inflexibility when it came to adapting their living space. Some of it was fueled by Blaine's insecurities as he saw how much Kurt had blossomed. And how much attention he was getting from other men. Verbal knock-down drag-outs became routine, to the point where days they didn't argue were the exception.

"This relationship is not a competition!" Kurt exclaimed during one particularly heated exchange after Blaine, apparently stewing in resentment, practically attacked him during combat class.

"Isn't it, though?" Blaine asked, and the genuine doubt in his voice brought Kurt up short. "Because for the first time in my life, I really feel like I'm losing." He folded in on himself. "You're so strong now. You have this amazing new life. New friends, exciting job, even a band. And I … It's like you just don't need me anymore."

When Blaine talked about being Kurt's savior in high school, helping him with Karofsky's bullying, how great that made him feel and how he missed it, Kurt felt his anger mounting. "The power dynamic has shifted," Blaine said mournfully, "and I don't know how I fit in this relationship anymore."

Kurt crossed his arms protectively across his chest. "I won't apologize for not being the needy, pathetic kid I was in high school."

"That's not what I'm saying," Blaine huffed in frustration. "You're twisting my words."

Kurt's eyes flashed. "You're the one talking about competitions and power dynamics."

Blaine took a deep breath and blew it out. "Can we just … not do this right now?" he said in a sad, defeated voice. "I'm so sick of fighting with you."

Kurt looked at Blaine, searching for the confident, debonnaire boy who had won his heart back in high school. Parts of that guy were still there, but in other ways this broken, doubtful Blaine was a complete stranger. Or maybe, maybe Kurt was the stranger now.

"I think," Kurt said slowly, "that maybe we should take a break. From being a couple, I mean."

Blaine started to protest but Kurt took his hands and led him to the sofa. "I love you, Blaine. I will always love you," he said softly. "But we're not good for each other right now." He placed a gentle hand on Blaine's cheek. "And I think, deep down, you know that, too." He kissed Blaine lightly on the lips, but it was a gesture of comfort, not a promise of more. Then he brought their foreheads together. "We've been this unit – Klaine – for so long, but we have to be honest about the fact it's not working anymore. We owe it to ourselves to give ourselves room to grow as individuals."

Blaine didn't argue. Instead, he moved out. And Kurt … moved on. Without enthusiasm, to be sure, but Kurt Hummel was not born to fade away.

He began dating other men, first Adam, who treated him well but bored him, and then a few others on and off. Months went by and the Klaine pause turned into a sort of soft break-up. Kurt graduated from NYADA and began in earnest to carve out an acting career. The job at Vogue helped make ends meet between roles. Wealthy socialite June Dolloway took Blaine under her wing and promoted him as a solo artist. Blaine began performing at nightclubs up and down the tri-state area. Kurt was genuinely happy for him and they kept in touch sporadically. Occasional texts, Facebook friends, glee reunions, that sort of thing. They even hooked up at Santana and Brittany's wedding in Lima. When Kurt woke the next morning, though, lying beside Blaine but feeling profoundly empty and even a little ashamed, he knew their relationship was well and truly over. He drove back to his dad's place, went up to his old room, and cried, mourning the death of Klaine, the death of something that had once been so beautiful.

Kurt returned to New York, to off-off Broadway shows and decent reviews and dating here and there. But after a few years, he became restless in the city, feeling stuck, and when the director of his current play announced the show would be going on the road, Kurt was the first cast member to sign up for the tour.

Defying his parents' wish that he attend Yale, Sebastian instead chose University of Chicago. He majored in literature. He tried out for the lacrosse team and when he learned he wasn't good enough to make the cut it was a sobering moment for the smug boy who'd always thought he outclassed everyone. He joined the school paper instead. In college, he realized for the first time in his life that most people don't put up with entitled assholes. No one was overly impressed with Sebastian at UChicago and suddenly he had to really work at his friendships to keep from being completely alone. Weekdays flew by with books and essays and long late-night talks in the dorm about everything under the sun. Weekends flew by with parties and clubbing. A series of twinks fell in and out of his bed, and their eyes were always either blue or green but never both and their voices never sparked his insides on fire. He told himself that didn't matter as long as he got off.

Sebastian spent his junior year at the Sorbonne in Paris. By then, he'd learned how to fake being a decent human being and making friends came easier. In Paris, he met a young man named Claude-Étienne. Even though his eyes were only brown, Claude-Étienne was sweet and sassy and he seemed to fill a hole in Sebastian's life so Sebastian decided to try the boyfriend thing. When they weren't fucking, they visited museums and public gardens and cafes together. Somewhere along the way, the fucking turned to making love. The sex wasn't mind blowing but there was a genuine intimacy there that Sebastian found he liked very much. Once, in a moment of passion, Sebastian called Claude-Étienne "mon beau," but it just felt wrong and he never did it again. As good as their relationship was, it had an expiration date and they both knew it. When the term ended, they backpacked through Switzerland as a sort of farewell gift to each other and parted as good friends.

Sebastian reconnected with his UChicago buddies for senior year. He tried to fall back into his old bedroom habits but Claude-Étienne had spoiled him and he now found the one-night stands utterly boring. He gave the boyfriend thing another go, this time with a theater major named Hogan. Hogan had black hair, pale skin and blue eyes, and his bitch levels were off the charts. They sparred and fucked for a few months. The barbs were always sharp and the sex, while adventurous, was always angry. Whenever they were together, Sebastian found himself thinking of Claude-Étienne and, in his most secret moments, of Kurt Hummel, too. Eventually, Sebastian admitted to himself that what he had with Hogan just wasn't enough. The breakup was a little on the ugly side because he and Hogan were so very good at insulting one another, but Sebastian came out the other side with his heart and his self-confidence largely intact.

Sebastian got into Columbia Law School. There he saw plenty of soulless, ruthless Hunter Clarington types and found, much to his surprise, that he just didn't want to be that guy anymore. His parents were furious when he transferred to Columbia's Graduate School of Journalism after one semester. He still went out clubbing and brought random guys home, but their skin was never the right shade of pale and their eyes never matched the ocean. Eventually, he decided he didn't want to be that guy anymore, either.

Sebastian graduated with honors and got a job reporting for Chicago's LGBTQ newspaper Windy City Times. He mostly covered the local courts and sometimes politics, a beat that perfectly suited his cynical disposition. But one morning his editor Janae placed a big puffy muffin on his desk. Sebastian eyed it suspiciously.

"What's this for?"

Janae tried to look innocent. "I need a favor, a very, very small favor."

"If it's such a small favor, why the mutant muffin?"

She shrugged. "I'm a nice person. Anyway, Khalil called in sick and he's supposed to review a musical opening tonight."

Sebastian handed back the muffin. "No," he said flatly. "I got my fill of all that Broadway shit in high school glee club. Ask Melinda to do it."

"But you're between assignments right now. Besides, rumor has it this is a really good production. A queer-friendly revival of A Little Night Music."

"Ugh! Sondheim and gays – could they be more stereotypical?"

"Hey, at least theater guys are hot." She held out the muffin again. "Please? I really don't have anyone else I can send."

And that's how Sebastian ended up in a small but well-respected downtown theater staring incredulously at a program featuring actors and crew whose names meant nothing to him. Well, all except one: Kurt E. Hummel.

Author's Note: Sooo... there you have my AU take on the Klaine break-up. I tried not to be too hard on Blaine here, even though I think he did a lot of things in canon that were way out of line. We're heading toward the end of the story - thank you all for taking this journey with me!