June 4, 2016, 7 p.m.
Something Wonderful: Open My Wings
T - Words: 1,289 - Last Updated: Jun 04, 2016 Story: Complete - Chapters: 17/? - Created: Feb 13, 2016 - Updated: Feb 13, 2016 229 0 0 0 1
Two chapters left! And then an epilogue! Sorry for the lack of updating. Fingers crossed that I can have this finished by next Sunday. :)
Blaine was curled up on his bed fast asleep when Kurt got home from his last class of the day. Kurt's lips pulled up into a lopsided smile as he sat next to his boyfriend. He reached out, cupping the side of Blaine's face, leaning in for a kiss. Blaine weakly lolled his head to the side and uncurled his hands away from his chest to press them against Kurt's, pushing.
“No kissing. You could get sick,” he reminded, swallowing hard and wincing.
“I don't care,” Kurt murmured, trying to capture Blaine's lips again.
“Well, I do, and if you loved me, Kurt, you wouldn't kiss me right now.”
Kurt laughed, crossing his arms across his chest. “That's being a little dramatic, don't you think? And contradictory,” he added.
“I'm always dramatic. I don't see why you're surprised,” Blaine mumbled, coughing on the last word. “Oh my God, I'm probably going to get nodes and I'll never be able to sing again and I'll never—”
“Blaine, you don't have nodes,” Kurt said with a fond roll of his eyes.
“Are you an otolaryngologist? Oh. No? So you can't be so sure,” Blaine said in a rush, turning on his side to continue staring at the wall.
“Hey.” Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, smiling a little to himself when Blaine silently leaned back against Kurt's chest. “Is the wall really that interesting? Are you having fun being alone and miserable?”
“No,” Blaine whispered, facing Kurt after a moment, looking at him with tired eyes. “I'm sorry for being a brat. I'm just scared.”
“Understandable,” Kurt answered, bumping his nose against Blaine's and watching him smile. “But it will be okay. You'll get your voice back.”
“I'm nothing without it, you know,” Blaine softly replied.
“You'd still be mine.”
“You'd still want me even if I was broken?” Blaine whispered, looking and sounding like an overgrown child.
“I'd still want you,” Kurt affirmed through a soft laugh. “And you wouldn't be broken. You'd still be lovable and adorable and romantic.”
Blaine grinned at Kurt.
“And sometimes a brat.”
Blaine pouted. Kurt laughed. It was only then that Blaine was able to fully breathe easy again.
“I love this,” Blaine hummed through the end of a chuckle, looking up at Kurt from underneath his eyelashes.
“What?” Kurt questioned, the remains of a smile still hanging onto his features.
“Laughing. With you. It's nice,” he mentioned softly. “I love being with you.”
“I love being with you too… You know, the funny thing is I wasn't even going to go to that audition that one day,” Kurt murmured, referring to their first meeting.
“Oh?” Blaine checked.
“Uh-uh,” Kurt said. “Something just told me to go.”
“A little birdy?” Blaine offered, voice scratchy, before leaning up to kiss Kurt.
“Something like that, I guess. Now,”—Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's thigh—“I'm going to make some tea and put on a record and be your voice until you get yours back.”
“You're cute.”
“Shut up,” Kurt mumbled. Blaine smirked, loving how easily Kurt blushed.
“What? The world needs to know.” Blaine's smirked deepened as a thought occurred to him. He jumped off of the bed and padded across the floor to the window, dizzy and coughing but not caring. He threw the window open.
“What are you doing?”
“The world needs to know.” Blaine took a deep inhale. “Kurt Hummel is cute! My boyfriend! Kurt Hummel! My boyfriend is the cutest cute boyfriend that could ever cute—!”
“Stop! Blaine!” Kurt laughed, grabbing Blaine around the waist and shutting the window. “Save your voice, crazy.”
“But you're cute,” Blaine mumbled.
“And you're sick. And crazy. And also cute. And need to be laying down.” Kurt poked gently at Blaine's side.
“Fine... Kurt?”
“Mm?” Kurt hummed, tucking the blanket underneath Blaine's chin.
“I really do think you're cute.”
Kurt laughed. “I know.”
“And I really love you.”
“I know.” Kurt kissed Blaine on the forehead. “I really love you too.”
-
“Kurt, how did your audition go?”
“I don't want to talk about it,” Kurt whispered.
“Kurt,” Blaine said his name, full of sympathy as he crossed the room and pulled back the covers to hold his boyfriend.
“I know I won't get it. It just hurts,” Kurt sighed. “Always hearing that I'm not what they're looking for or being stopped in the middle of my song. I know you know. I know you feel the same way, I just… I really wanted this one, Blaine. I really did.”
Blaine stayed silent, kissing away Kurt's tears.
“I can't believe I—let myself think that—for one minute,”—Kurt pulled away from Blaine's kisses—“that this time would be any different.”
“Kurt,” Blaine repeated himself, not knowing what to say to console him. He had never seen him so let down before. “I believe in you so much. You can do this, you know.”
“And if I can't?” Kurt challenged, his slumped shoulders straightening.
“You will be successful. Because you're smart. And daring. And wonderful,” Blaine whispered. And there was that word again, making Kurt smile through his tears.
“You always call me that. Wonderful.” Kurt pointed out, wiping his tears away. “Why?”
“Because that's what you are. Wonderful.” Blaine kissed him again. “My wonderful. And I am so, so proud of everything you do and everything you are. And I can't believe I found you. So soon.”
So soon. Kurt wasn't sure what those words meant. But they sounded special. Made him feel special.
“I know. I can't believe it either,” Kurt whispered, chewing at his mouth while he thought for a moment. “Hey, Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
“You remember how you said you would wait until I was ready?” Kurt asked softly.
“Yes,” Blaine said, slowly, if not a little hopefully.
“I'm ready,” Kurt told Blaine, finding his hand in the darkness.
“Oh.” Blaine inhaled deeply through his nose. “Now?”
“Why not?” Kurt checked, worried.
“Oh, no reason. I'm certainly not opposed to the idea, it's just that I was… well, we were waiting, and I was getting things to make it perfect. I bought a new plush comforter and, the other day, I picked up these amazing scented candles…”
“Of course you did,” Kurt replied, swallowing down laughter. “But, you know, those candles will never be as amazing as you.” Kurt wrapped himself around Blaine.
“You're probably right about that,” Blaine replied, his voice a little tense, unable to sell the joke properly.
“Blaine, it's still me. Don't freak out on me.” Kurt ran a hand through Blaine's curls. “Blaine.”
“I just want to be sure. That you're sure,” Blaine explained. “I don't want to mess this up.”
“You could never,” Kurt said, barely audible before kissing Blaine deep and hard. Blaine's hands found Kurt's face and Kurt's found Blaine's waist. “I'll tell you what, you tell me where the comforter and candles are stashed away at while you bring over the record player and a stack of records.”
“A stack?” Blaine checked.
“I figure, I really want you to be stuck with me at this point, and I'm going to need a lot of practice to convince you to stay stuck,” Kurt whispered, kissing Blaine again, and he could feel Blaine's body shaking with want.
“You don't have to convince me,” Blaine uttered. “I know what I want. I want you. I'll always want you.”
“Still, practice never hurt.”
A few records and half a scented candle later, the two decided that, actually, practicing would probably hurt the next day. But in the best of ways.
At six in the morning, with no sleep, completely delirious, the two snuck out of bed, greeting the morning early. Blaine insisted on making breakfast, chastising Kurt for sneaking blueberries because there will be none left for the pancakes, Kurt! But Kurt just laughed and stole another, kissing away Blaine's huffy pout at yet another blueberry lost.
“You're my favorite person,” Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. “I love you,” he mentioned for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Each time Blaine's eyes seemed to grow wider than the last.
“I love you,” Blaine answered. And he couldn't even complain when Kurt ate another blueberry.