What Are The Odds
Alianne
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What Are The Odds: Chapter 9 - But Not For Me


M - Words: 5,621 - Last Updated: Jun 03, 2012
Story: Complete - Chapters: 20/20 - Created: Feb 12, 2012 - Updated: Jun 03, 2012
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“So, he just took all of them home with him and let them crash in your room? Just like that?” Kurt put the phone on speaker so he could bend down to tie his shoes. “How many of many of them were there?”

Blaine sighed on the other end. “Twelve. Twelve complete strangers from North Dakota, in New York for the week on some kind of sightseeing tour.”

“How did he even meet them?”

“Well, you know Colin. He just meets people. He was closing the coffee shop and they were the last ones there, and apparently he thought it was a good idea to invite them for a drink. Which turned into several drinks, which turned into all of them sleeping on our floor for the last two days, because hotel rooms are just so expensive.”

Even though he felt slightly sorry for Blaine who had his room taken over by strangers while he had an important paper to finish, Kurt couldn't help but feel glad that he wasn't the only one stuck with crazy roommates. “But they're gone now, aren't they?”

“Oh god, yes, finally. I mean, they were nice and everything, but twelve people, Kurt. For two days.” Blaine groaned. “I already told Colin I'm going to kill him as soon as he gets back from class.”

“Call me if you need any help hiding the body,” Kurt offered. “How did all those people even fit into your room? I've seen it. You and Colin hardly fit in there.”

“It was a little crowded, believe me,” Blaine answered.

“Yes, I can imagine. You should have called me, Blaine. You could have stayed here until they were gone.”

“I know, I thought about it,” Blaine admitted, “but I had that paper to finish. I needed to stay close to the library. Which, by the way, is where I spent most of the last two days anyway, so I really just had to put up with them at night. Almost stepped on one of them when I got in Wednesday night, that's how I found out Colin had invited them over in the first place. But, yeah, the paper. I stayed up all night and just finished the final draft, so I'm going to hand it in now, and then I'm going to sleep for a week.”

“Before or after murdering your roommate?” Kurt asked.

Blaine yawned. “I don't know yet, I haven't decided. Do you think I can manage to kill him in my sleep?”

Kurt laughed. “I've seen you sleep, Blaine. You don't even manage to roll over once you're out. So, no, I don't think you will.”

“Whatever,” Blaine said. “Goodnight, Kurt.”

“It's 4 p.m..”

“So?”

Kurt laughed. “Goodnight, Blaine. Don't forget to hand in your paper before you pass out, okay?” Still smiling to himself, Kurt ended the call.

“Oh good, you're still here.” Rachel walked into his room, a determined look on her face. “I need you to listen to me, I have two versions of Buenos Aires prepared for my audition and you need to tell me which one sounds better—”

Kurt held up his hands to stop her from talking. “Sorry, Rachel, but I'm meeting Patrick in half an hour.”

“Why do you never have time for me anymore?” Rachel pouted. “Seriously, you're always gone. It's like I'm living alone with Jesse.”

Kurt sighed. She was right, they hadn't spent a lot of time together lately. “I know, you're right. And I really am sorry. I want to spend time with you and listen to you. I do. But right now I have to run, okay?”

“Fine.” Rachel threw up her hands in defeat. “I guess I'll ask Jesse for advice. If he's not too busy listening to the sound of his own voice.”

“Why don't you call Finn? Sing to him over the phone. He'll be happy to help you out.”

Rachel frowned, staring down at her feet. “He'll only tell me what I want to hear. I need someone who's brutally honest. You're good at that.” She let out a sigh, shaking her head slowly. “Plus, we kind of had a fight. I don't think calling him is such a good idea right now.”

“Oh.” Kurt took a step closer to her, patting her shoulder awkwardly. It wasn't unusual for Rachel and Finn to fight, they had broken up six or seven times since Rachel had moved to New York with Kurt. Normally, they were back together within a week, except for that one time they had stayed mad at each other for a month before Finn had driven all the way to New York to camp out in front of their apartment door until Rachel agreed to speak to him again. “How bad is it? Do you need me to stay home and talk about how much we both hate boys sometimes? I'm sure Patrick would understand.”

Rachel smiled at him sadly. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine. We'll be fine. It was a stupid fight anyway. You go and have fun, it's okay, really.”

Kurt let go of her shoulder, slipping into his jacket and hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “How about we go see a movie sometime next week? Because you're right. We should hang out more again.”

Rachel shrugged. “I'd like that. But let's just have coffee or something. We haven't talked in ages. I mean... This might sound pathetic, but you are my best friend, Kurt. I just miss you sometimes.”

“I miss you too.” He did, and he felt bad for kind of ignoring Rachel lately. But between the musical and classes and Patrick and all of his college friends and Blaine, there simply hadn't been enough time. And since he was living with her already, he hadn't thought too much about planning anything with her, figuring she'd always be around anyway. The truth was, however, that these days, if he didn't plan his days down to the second, he didn't get anything done. And he was loving it for the most part, the stress, the excitement of it all. Because it meant that he got to fill his life with things that he loved. “So let's hang out next week. But I really have to go now.”

Rachel nodded, smiling. “Go, then. And have fun.”

He smiled back, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door.

“And I want you home by midnight,” Rachel shouted after him.

**

“I already bought you coffee,” Patrick greeted him outside the coffee shop.

“Thank you.” Kurt took the paper cup from him, leaning in for a small kiss. “Do you want to walk around a bit, or –”

“Actually,” Patrick cut him off, gesturing toward the bench on the other side of the street. “Do you maybe want to sit down for a moment?”

“All right.” He took a sip of his coffee, noticing the nervous way Patrick's hands were playing with the ends of his scarf. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, fine. Everything's fine. I just... Can we sit, please?”

“Yes, yes, okay.” Kurt followed him across the street, slightly confused.

They sat side by side, Kurt sipping his coffee while Patrick's was slowly getting cold. The minutes ticked by without Patrick saying anything, just staring at his shoes, clearing his throat occasionally. When he only had a few drops of coffee left in his cup, Kurt finally decided to be the one to break the silence.

“Okay. What is it? You're kind of creeping me out with your silent brooding right now.”

“Sorry.” Patrick laughed, a short, nervous laugh that could mean anything. “Okay. Right. I... Do you remember Eliot, my dad's friend who came to our opening night?”

“Oh, I don't know. You mean the guy you've been talking about for weeks, because he runs the theater company you've been talking about for as long as I've known you because you were hoping to join? Yes, I remember.”

Patrick nodded, took a deep breath. “He called. I'm in.”

“That's wonderful,” Kurt exclaimed, throwing his arms around Patrick to hug him tightly. “I know how much you wanted this. I'm so proud of you. And I told you, remember? I told you from the beginning that you'd get in.”

Patrick smiled when he pulled back, gently cupping Kurt's face with one hand, placing a tender kiss on his lips. “You did. You always believed in me. As I believe in you. Which doesn't make this any easier.”

Kurt gave him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

Patrick let go of Kurt, closing his eyes as if to gather courage. “I didn't tell you everything about that company. There are some things I didn't mention. One in particular.”

“Like what?”

“Like...” Patrick opened his eyes, looking at Kurt sadly. “Like the fact that it's in London.”

“Oh.” That was unexpected. “That's... Well. Congratulations.” He didn't really know what else to say. London. Okay. That was... far away from New York. “Wait, how did you even audition for a theater company in London?”

“Family vacation. Summer break.”

“Right.”

“Kurt, I...” Patrick scooted closer to him, taking both of his hands in his. “I didn't even think they would take me. I never really expected this. And I auditioned for them long before you and I were together, and they didn't need me right then, but we kept in touch... I didn't know it was ever going to really happen, but I can't turn this down, this is big, I have to...”

“No.” Kurt shook his head, his mind in overdrive. Because London. His boyfriend was really moving to London? What was the time difference between New York and England? They'd have to schedule their phone calls... Skype conversations, more likely. Money was tight. He wasn't really too keen on long-distance, but he supposed they would have to make it work somehow... “You can't turn this down. You... have to go.”

“But it's so far away.” Patrick squeezed his hands, sighing. “Not being with you anymore... I don't really know what to do right now.”

Kurt bit his bottom lip, trying not to get too emotional over this. This was a good thing for Patrick, he couldn't be selfish right now, no matter how much he wanted to. “It's such a great opportunity for you. It's what you wanted. You have to take it.”

“I know.” Patrick stared at their joined hands, shaking his head sadly. “That's what everyone says. But I... It is what I wanted, but what about us? I don't want to leave you, I don't want us to be over so soon, not like this. But, oh god, Kurt, what can I do? I waited for this for so long...”

“Wait.” Kurt pulled his hands away, replaying what Patrick had said in his head. “Over? You mean, if you go, you're going to break up with me?”

“No!” Patrick ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I mean, I don't want to, but... I don't know, Kurt. I just don't. I can't... I'm going to London. For god knows how long. How would this... us... how is it supposed to work out with me all the way in England and you here in New York?”

Kurt exhaled, slowly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. He leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. “What about school?”

“I'm dropping out.”

“Don't.”

“Kurt.” Patrick twisted on the bench so he was fully facing Kurt. “That's not really the point. The point is, I'll be in London. I'll be so far away and we won't see each other all the time anymore and I... I can't...”

“You'll be so far away and you don't want to be tied down. I understand.” Kurt didn't look up, couldn't even lift his head from his hands, he felt so empty, so tired. Of course this had to happen sooner or later. He'd just been too happy, he'd just been so completely, deliriously happy, he should have known it just couldn't last. These things never did, he'd learned as much from watching his friends. How stupid of him to think, even for one moment, that what he and Patrick had might be the exception.

“No, that's not it. That's not it at all. Kurt, please look at me.” Patrick sounded broken, defeated. Kurt just shook his head. He couldn't. He didn't want to. He didn't want to look at Patrick and see the rejection in his eyes. It couldn't end like this.

“What about long-distance? There's Skype, I could visit you during my breaks, we could...”

“Kurt.” Patrick took his hands, easing them away from his face, gently holding them in his own. “I can't. I can't do long-distance.”

“Why not?” Kurt hated himself for the tears in his voice, even though they didn't fall yet. He didn't want to cry, but dammit, his body just didn't seem to get that.

“Being away from you like that, not seeing you all the time... I don't think I could do it.”

“We could try.”

“I don't want to hold you back, Kurt. I can't ask you to sit here and wait for me. I want you to be able to meet someone else and be happy without feeling guilty about it.”

Kurt swallowed. “I don't want anyone else. And, you know what?” He was angry now, hurt and angry. “This all sounds like excuses to me. You want to be the one who can date other people without feeling guilty about it. So please just don't pretend you're doing this for me, because I told you I don't want this.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” Patrick said, quietly, a slight tremor in his voice. It did sound like he meant it, but Kurt still couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. He preferred being angry, he didn't want to feel the pain.

“What, so you're just breaking up with me instead? How is that better?” He swallowed, fighting down the tight feeling in his chest, the rising panic and familiar feeling of not-good-enough. Again. Not worth fighting for. “How does that make it easier? If you don't want this, then please, at least be honest with me. I can take it. But not like this, Patrick, please, I deserve more than this.” And just like that, the anger was gone, replaced by nothing but hurt and despair.

“God, Kurt, please.” Patrick squeezed his hands, tears shining in his eyes. “I do care about you, but I have to go to London and there's no point...”

“No, we can make it work.” Kurt hated the way it sounded, hated that it sounded like begging. But he wasn't ready for this, he wasn't ready for being alone again. Not yet, not now, not when he had finally found someone, please. “We can. I know we can.”

I can't.” Patrick shook his head sadly, a single tear running down his cheek. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Kurt, but it wouldn't work and you know it.”

“This isn't fair.” Kurt heard his voice shaking and concentrated on his breathing, in and out, in and out, until he trusted himself to speak again. “It's just not fair. You can't just decide this for us. Please, let us try, just a month, one month. Just give us four weeks, and if it works out, another four. Maybe we'll make it. And if it sucks, we can still break up, just please, not now. Not right now, please, Patrick.”

“Kurt, I... you have to understand. I can't. Please, I just... Don't make this harder than it already is.”

“Oh, I'm the one doing that, am I?” Kurt let out a bitter laugh.

“Just ask me to stay, then,” Patrick suggested.

Kurt looked at him, taking him in, his beautiful familiar face, and felt his heart break clean in half. “I won't do that and you know it.”

“No, you won't. Doesn't that mean something too?”

“What do you mean?” Kurt shook his head, trying to blink away the tears. “Don't put this on me. Don't you dare. I'm not the one responsible for this, You're the one leaving and you won't even try...”

“I know. I know that. And you're right, this isn't fair. I just honestly believe that doing it like this is going to hurt less. That's the best I can offer you.”

“So, what do we do now?” Kurt was afraid of the answer, knowing there was only one thing left to be said. And he was hurting all over, trying so hard to hold it together, trying so hard not to cling, bury his face against Patrick's neck where it belonged and beg him not to leave. He couldn't. Couldn't let him go, couldn't ask him to stay. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. Against this, he was helpless, defenseless, unable to make a right move, only able to accept. You couldn't make someone stay with you. It was hard when you saw them every day, it was impossible with an ocean in between you. “Is this it, then? Just like that?”

Patrick met his eyes, the look on his face somewhere between pain and apology. He let go of Kurt's hands, dropping his own back onto his knees.

And Kurt knew it was over.

**

He was surprised to find his legs still carried him, surprised to find he was actually walking. His phone was ringing in his coat pocket, but it never even occurred to him to answer it. Only vaguely aware of the people and city around him, he kept walking, took a subway train at some point, kept walking after that.

Was he crying? He couldn't tell anymore. No. He lifted a hand to his face, touching his fingertips to his cheeks. They were dry. Good. Not that he hadn't done it before, but he hated crying in front of strangers.

Taking another turn he finally looked up, looked around, only to find that he was standing outside Blaine's dorm. What on earth was he doing here and how did he get here in the first place? Hadn't he been on his way home?

Home. Right. He'd wanted to lie down, go to sleep. Just sleep the rest of this day away, because it needed to end. And right now, he needed to get away from all these people hurrying past, because they could probably tell he'd just been dumped, could tell that here was someone in their midst who was unwanted by everyone, and his throat was closing up again and he didn't know how much longer he could hold the tears back. This, this was exactly why he'd been so very careful about giving his heart away, because the chances of getting it back in one piece were always slim. And it hurt. Physically. More than he could handle right now.

He knew he should go home, but he honestly just wanted to stay here. Without really making up his mind either way, he walked up to Blaine's door, knocked, just once, and waited.

He heard the sound of books sliding to the floor inside, then a loud curse as Blaine tripped over something before the door finally opened and Blaine was there, hair sticking up in all directions, dressed in a battered t-shirt and sweatpants. It looked like he'd been asleep.

“Kurt, hi,” he said. “Did we have plans to hang out and I forgot? Sorry, you know, the paper. I finally handed it in and I was taking a nap. Should have cleared the books away first, I think I slept on them... Hey, what's wrong?” Taking a step closer right into Kurt's personal space, he put both hands on his shoulders, searching his face. “Have you been crying?”

Kurt, unable to speak, just shrugged, tears burning behind his eyes.

“Come on, come inside.” Blaine maneuvered him into his room, closing the door behind them and immediately pulling Kurt into a tight hug. “Tell me what's wrong.”

“Patrick and I just broke up.” He took a few deep breaths, leaning against Blaine, feeling so weak.

“Oh god, Kurt, I'm sorry.”

“I just... I don't even know why I came here, I didn't mean to, I just...”

“No, no, hey, it's all right. It's okay.” Blaine ran his hands up and down his back soothingly. “It's okay.”

“It's... I can't... I don't know what to...” Kurt felt himself shiver, all the emotion he'd been trying (and gradually failing) so hard to control finally bubbling to the surface. “I don't know what to do.”

“What happened?” Blaine pulled back, leading Kurt over to his bed, sitting down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Kurt blinked down at his knees, not really seeing them at all. “I don't. Not yet.”

“That's okay. You don't have to. Is there anything I can do?”

Kurt shook his head, swallowing the sob that was threatening to burst out. “No. I don't even know why I came here. I just needed... I don't know.”

Blaine put an arm around his shoulders, hugging him to his side briefly. “You know you can always come here. Just lie down for a few minutes. Let me make you some tea. I'll be back in a second.” He got up, walking over to his desk to pick up his phone.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, watching from his seat on Blaine's bed.

“Texting Colin to find somewhere else to stay tonight. He owes me.”

“Why?”

“Because you're sleeping over and you don't need the company of my crazy roommate right now.”

“I am?” Not that he minded, he didn't really feel up to the task of traveling all the way back to his apartment tonight.

“Of course you are.” Blaine looked up at him, phone in one hand. “If you want.”

“I... Yes. Please. I'd like that. I'm... I feel tired.” It wasn't exactly the right word, but it was closest to this heaviness in his limbs dragging him down, this fogginess in his head that came from holding the tears back for too long. He felt tired and sick, a bit like having the flu, cold and drowsy. “I don't have any of my things. I have classes tomorrow.”

Blaine finished his text, dropping the phone back onto the desk before sitting down next to Kurt again and taking his hands in his. “Skip tomorrow. I was planning on doing the same anyway, after the last two days. Your perfect attendance can take it. And I'll run down to the store and get you a toothbrush. You can borrow a pair of my pajamas. You have another performance tomorrow afternoon, haven't you?” Kurt nodded and Blaine continued, “Then we'll swing by your place before that and you can get whatever you need. But tonight, all you have to do is let me take care of you, okay?”

Kurt couldn't speak, so he simply squeezed Blaine's hands. Blaine smiled at him, running his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles. “Lie down. I'll get you everything you need.” He started getting up, but Kurt didn't let go, pulled him back down instead.

“Blaine, could you... Just for another minute...” He couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't explain what he needed, so he just wrapped his arms around Blaine, buried his head against his shoulder and finally started crying.

**

He didn't know how long he'd been crying when the tears finally dried up, his throat raw from sobbing, but he was almost surprised to find they were no longer sitting. He was lying on Blaine's bed, his head on Blaine's chest, Blaine's arms securely around him, holding him tight, and he felt exhausted. Taking a few deep breaths, he opened his hand that was clenching Blaine's shirt, using the other to wipe some of the moisture from his face, his body still shaking.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” Blaine asked, gently stroking his hair that must be a mess by now.

“Yeah.” Kurt nodded against Blaine's chest, thinking about sitting up for a moment, but still feeling a bit light-headed from all the crying decided against it for now. “I think that actually helped.”

“It's weird, but it kind of does,” Blaine said.

Kurt sniffed, his vision clearing as he blinked away the last of the tears. “I think I ruined your shirt.”

Blaine laughed, and Kurt could feel it where his face was pressed against Blaine's body. “Don't worry about it. I'll let you ruin another one of it helps you. I just wish I could do more.”

“You're doing a lot, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly. “Just being here, letting me be here... That's a lot. Thank you.” He fell silent after that, just lying motionless and listening to Blaine's heartbeat under his ear. He'd felt so small. He'd felt so lost and alone walking away from Patrick this afternoon, like the floor had been pulled from underneath him and he was falling through space all on his own. He was still feeling lonely and so, so heartbroken, but the rhythmic steady beat of Blaine's heart calmed him, anchored him. Reminding him that he wasn't alone and he wasn't falling, because Blaine was there to catch him even now. It still hurt, though, and the only reason he wasn't crying anymore was that it was a physical impossibility at this point.

“I have to tell Rachel I won't be home tonight, she'll worry about me.” He sat up, scanning the room for his bag that he must have dropped somewhere earlier.

“I'll call her on my way to the store,” Blaine offered. “You just stay here, make yourself comfortable, pick out a movie or something. We can use my laptop, it's on the desk.” He kept looking at him, bringing up a hand to Kurt's face and running a thumb over his cheek as if to wipe away some remaining tears. “Are you going to be all right if I head out for a few minutes? I'll be quick.”

Kurt had to laugh at that, just a short laugh, stabbing him in the chest that was still sore from crying. “Yes, Blaine, thank you. I can manage a few minutes on my own. Uh...” He felt uncomfortable suddenly, remembering that his face must be all red and blotchy. “I think I need to use your bathroom as well. I probably look like something out of a horror movie.”

“That's not even possible,” Blaine replied, smiling at him. “Okay, then. Everything in this room and the bathroom is at your disposal. Want me to pick up anything else at the store? Anything you need? Ice cream? Chocolate?”

Kurt got up, stretching a little. Why did emotional pain make your body feel heavier, like you'd been running 40 miles after a week of sitting? “No, thanks. I couldn't eat anyway right now.”

“Well, in that case I'll just surprise you,” Blaine decided, his fingers brushing Kurt's wrist quickly before he picked up his wallet and headed for the door.

Kurt used the time Blaine was gone to splash a lot of cold water on his face to make the red and the puffiness go away, and then attempted in vain to fix his hair a little. However, he didn't have the energy for too much damage control, and somehow he didn't mind looking a little less put together than usual around Blaine. He very much doubted that Blaine even cared about the way he looked. It was one of the most wonderful, yet unsettling things about Blaine – in a world that was so concerned with appearances, Blaine was one of those rare people who had the gift of looking at the inside rather than the outside of a person. He cared about looks – everyone did. He just rarely judged based on them. He was remarkable in that way.

Kurt exhaled, the breathing a little easier after he'd finally allowed himself to break down, checking his own appearance in the mirror above the sink. Looks had always been important to him, clean skin, beautiful clothes, not a hair out of place. It was a statement, but it was more than that too. It was a way of controlling something in a world that took so much control out of his hands. Things like who you were attracted to and the way the world reacted to it. His voice. His face. He'd always been proud of who he was, but he knew that this fact alone didn't make all of the insecurities go away.

And being left, being dumped, having your heart broken for whatever reason – he knew it was silly, but he'd felt sixteen and rejected all over again. Insecure, unwanted. Except, at sixteen, he'd have gone home to cry alone in his room. He didn't have to do that anymore. And that was something.

Now that Patrick had decided to go to London, they had sort of “agreed” that there was no point in staying together until his departure, which would be the week after their last performance of Jesse's musical. Kurt wasn't really looking forward to going there tomorrow, being in the same room with Patrick, being on stage with Patrick, talking to Patrick. But it was probably better this way, better than pretending everything was okay when they knew that their relationship came with an expiration date. None of those thoughts made any of the hurt go away, though. He had lost him. He had lost Patrick, and he would never again get to kiss him, or hold him, or watch a silly movie with him and fall asleep tangled together on his bed. Not ever again. It was impossible to comprehend.

Breathing through the fresh wave of tears that was fighting its way up, he walked back to Blaine's room, spotting his bag on the floor next to the door. He retrieved his cell phone, sitting down with his back against the wall. One new message. From Rachel. None from Patrick. Of course not. He had half-hoped for some kind of miracle, a text, a voice mail, saying hey, I changed my mind, I got a similarly good offer right here in New York and we don't have to be apart. Of course, that was not going to happen.

He read Rachel's message, smiling a little to himself, because no, he really was not alone, after all.

Blaine just called me and told me everything. Are you all right? I'm so, so sorry. You don't have to answer, just know that I'm here when you come home tomorrow. Whatever you need. Love you.

Even though it seemed like one hell of an effort right now, he sent a quick text back, just to keep her from worrying all night, even though he was sure Blaine had already promised her not to let him do anything stupid. As if he would. That wasn't his style. Breaking down and moving on, that was what he did, even if right now, he didn't feel like he could do it.

Thank you. I'll be fine. Talk tomorrow, love you too.

Letting the phone slide to the floor, he dropped his head onto his knees, feeling empty. He wished he could be mad at Patrick. He had no real experience with this kind of thing, but maybe being mad would make it hurt less. Anger gave you energy. Sadness sucked it right out of you. And he was sad. He was just... so sad and so, so exhausted and he missed him, he missed Patrick so much and it wasn't fair, and the tears had helped a little, but the effect was wearing off now.

Dragging himself to his feet, he walked back over to the bed, dropping face-down onto the mattress. He didn't want Blaine to find him sitting on the floor, it would just worry him unnecessarily and Blaine was already going out of his way to be there for Kurt.

The door opened and there he was again, carrying a large brown paper bag. “I bought healthy stuff,” he announced, almost proudly. “Salad, juice, apples. But you have to promise me to have some chocolate later. It has crazy healing powers, believe me. I also got fresh milk, you like warm milk, don't you?”

Kurt sat up, giving Blaine an affectionate look. “I'm depriving you of your sleep, aren't I?”

“What are you talking about?” Blaine set the bag down on his desk, dropping his wallet and keys next to it.

“You just pulled an all-nighter on your paper and since you don't have any classes this afternoon, you wanted to catch up on your sleep. And then I break up with my boyfriend and you just...” He felt his eyes beginning to water again, and again he couldn't do anything to stop it. “You let me cry into your t-shirt and buy me salad.”

Blaine walked over to where Kurt was sitting and dropped to his knees in front of him, taking his hands, his chin resting on Kurt's knees as he looked up into his eyes. “We do this for each other, Kurt.” He smiled up at him, his eyes reassuring and warm and almost golden in the soft afternoon light. “You did it for me too, not so long ago. I'm here. Anything you need, I'm here, Kurt, and I always will be. I am the one person in your life you will never, ever get rid of, you better believe that. Whatever happens, Kurt, my clothes will always be here for you to cry into. And you don't even have to say anything, I already know it's mutual.”

“It is,” Kurt whispered, gently running his fingers through Blaine's curls.

Blaine nodded, getting up off the floor. “Good.” He opened his dresser, took out a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, handing them to Kurt. “Get changed and then you can tell me everything. If you want. If you don't, we'll just... sit. Watch something. Listen to sad music. Whatever you need, okay?”

Kurt held the clothes in his hand, stared at them for a moment before looking back up at Blaine. Quickly closing the distance between them, he closed his arms around him, pulled him against his body, exhaling some of the pain in his chest as he felt Blaine's arms wrap around him in return.

“Thank you. I have no idea what I'd do without you.”

“Kurt.” Blaine's arms tightened around his waist, his breath warm against his neck. “That feeling's mutual too.”


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