CHAPTER 19

By next Saturday – his birthday and last day in New York – Blaine had all but forgotten that anything unsettling had happened. Kurt had decided that since they wouldn't have all weekend to celebrate properly, with the plane leaving Sunday morning, Blaine deserved a whole birthday week instead. The results were mindblowing. Blaine had never felt so loved and cherished in his whole life.

Starting Monday morning, there were flowers every day, from single red roses and while lilies, to a bouquet of sunflowers and red carnations delivered the only morning of the week he didn't stay overnight at Kurt's.

There were two Broadway shows. A romantic midnight walk through the city, holding hands, kissing on every street corner. A piano concert in Central Park at sunset. There was waking up to Kurt's smile nearly every morning and picking him up at the theater in the afternoons, to go to dinner or cook together, and falling asleep safe and happy in Kurt's arms. There were Kurt's words, always reminding Blaine that he was special and important.

There were gifts, too. A beautiful leather messenger bag for school. A box of fancy bowties, sewn by Kurt himself. A Moleskine notebook when Blaine admitted to keeping a journal. An adorable plush puppy whose eyes, Kurt said, reminded him of Blaine's. There was hinting at a more personal present to come Saturday night, and Blaine pretended not to have any idea what it might be.

Cooper joined the early celebrations on Thursday morning, over breakfast, handing Blaine an envelope. Inside was a Visa card with Blaine's name on it.

"I want you to have it for emergencies. Which includes at least one trip to New York during the school year just in case you miss me. Or, you know, anyone else. It's connected to my account."

Coop smiled mischievously and Blaine nearly knocked over his coffee in a hurry to hug his brother. Then Cooper produced a piece of paper.

"And this is proof that I will come see you for Christmas this year."

It was a plane ticket to Columbus for Christmas Eve, and really, Blaine couldn't have wished for a better birthday present. Christmas alone with his parents was always the toughest part of the year.

Even Sebastian surprised him with a gift – a tastefully decorated box handed to him on Friday night, when his last performance at the Hippo turned into a full-blown party, with a birthday cake and champagne right at midnight. Of course, Blaine should have known better than to open Seb's present in public. He didn't think about it, however, overwhelmed with all the joy and love he felt surrounding him, so the extensive set of personal lubricants that the box revealed made him groan and quickly put the lid back on in embarrassment. Sebastian smirked at him.

"What? The nights in Ohio will seem even longer after the summer you've had. Better to be prepared than chafed."

Blaine hid his burning face in his hands.

In all the blissful time they had, Blaine and Kurt managed to fit one conversation about their future. Curled around each other in Kurt's bed one night, still sweaty and cuddly and not-quite-asleep, they exchanged soft assurances about phone calls and Skype and emails, about pictures and spring break, and missing each other. Blaine fell asleep to the thought that no matter how hard it was going to be with the distance, it would be worth it. Kurt would be worth it.

***

Kurt was somewhat proud of his abilities to keep himself in check. All week, focused on Blaine, being with Blaine nearly non-stop, with his feelings all fresh and raw and so obvious now – he managed to only break down once.

It was one afternoon at the theater, when he emerged into the foyer to find Blaine with a little girl, maybe two years old, in his arms. Blaine had offered to take care of her for a few minutes, Kurt later learned, while her mom, one of the actresses, talked to the director.

Of course, everyone in the theater knew Blaine by now, so it was no big deal, but somehow the picture of a child held securely in Blaine's embrace as he walked around the foyer, showing her the photos and posters from various performances and answering her incessant questions with a warm, patient smile on his face, touched something raw and aching in Kurt's chest. He had to quietly retreat to his office and work on breathing exercises, and still when Blaine came to find him ten minutes later, Kurt had a hard time convincing him that his red-rimmed eyes were a result of going through the props archives, disturbing the ancient layers of dust there.

He hadn't even known he wanted children one day.

But all in all, he managed better than he thought he would – reminding himself that this was all he could have, the now, and just taking what he could. Yes, there would be phone calls and Skype dates later, longing and tender words and assurances, but Kurt didn't let himself believe, not for one moment, that they'd make it until next summer. Until spring break, even. There was no way Blaine wouldn't find someone else by then.

And it was fine. He was ready.

He gave Blaine all he could in that last week – all his attention, his time, all the love he could show without spelling it out. Everything he would be happy to give him every day for years. He planned to give him one last amazing night, too; even without penetrative sex Kurt knew he'd make it unforgettable.

There was also a last, intimate gift for Blaine waiting in his bedside table ­– a beautiful, sleek black vibrator. It was an exquisite design and the best quality, with a note saying he hoped Blaine would think about him when using it. Sure, it wasn't exactly what Blaine wanted, but Kurt hoped it would be enough.

They'd have one last night together and then, early in the morning, they would say their goodbyes and Blaine would go to Cooper's apartment to pick up his bags and go to the airport with his brother.

Kurt would stay home and finally let himself cry.

Blaine stared at the box in his hands, the outside classy and discreet, unrevealing until he opened it. He looked honestly surprised, but not in the good way Kurt had desperately hoped for. There was confusion on his sweet face, and a bit of hurt just peeking through the mask of politeness. That Blaine even felt he needed to put on a mask with him hurt. But then again, Kurt had been wearing a far thicker mask himself for a week now.

Blaine cleared his throat now, his face more controlled already, with a pleasant smile.

"Wow, thank you. I guess that together with Seb's collection it solves the problem of long lonely nights when I'm back home. But... can I be honest?"

He closed the box and slid it into the pocket of his jacket before looking into Kurt's eyes, his face suddenly so open and sincere again.

"If this is your big surprise... I mean... It's great, but I really hoped you'd give me something else tonight. Something less... material. I– Kurt, I hoped you'd finally um... make love to me." A pause, ready to be filled with an answer that didn't come, then a quiet, shy question. "Will you?"

There was so much vulnerability in Blaine's amber eyes, such hope, that Kurt would have surely swayed and thrown all caution to the wind had he not taken time to really, truly think about it. Barely able to look at Blaine, he shook his head. Everything inside him screamed to say yes.

He couldn't.

Blaine looked like a kicked puppy now.

"But why? I don't understand. I thought you just wanted to wait until I'm eighteen, or maybe it was supposed to be today as a really special night. But– but I don't get it. You like it, you said so yourself. You've done that with other guys. Why not me, Kurt? Why can't you just – Am I not good enough?"

There was a fist clenching Kurt's heart, tightening, but he just told himself to ignore it, to power through. His hand was gentle when he put it on Blaine's chest, over his heart, as if to prevent it from breaking. God, he'd hoped they wouldn't have to have this conversation. Though now that he looked at it, it seemed stupid to think he could have avoided it.

"I can't, Bee. It's different with you. You're more than good enough. You're perfect." His voice broke slightly. "That's why I can't."

Blaine's face was pure confusion. "But why? Tell me."

Kurt took a deep breath and repeated what he'd told himself over and over during the previous week; the other half of the truth; the one that would pass through his throat without choking him.

"Because you deserve to have this left, Bee. You're going back home tomorrow. You'll be back to school and your normal life, and in several weeks or months you'll meet someone else, someone who will be right there and your age, not miles and miles away and older than you deserve. You'll call to tell me and it will be a sad day, but it's okay. You'll fall in love and it will be the best feeling in the world, and you'll want to have something to share with this lucky guy, something no one else will ever have had. I can't take that from you, Blaine. I've had so many of your precious firsts this summer, and I'd like to think you'll remember me fondly, but you deserve better than me for –"

The hurt on Blaine's face morphed into angry disbelief in a blink, and Kurt took half a step backwards on instinct. His boyfriend looked scary like that, his eyes flashing and his words hard.

"So wait, I'm some silly summer romance for you, someone to forget the moment I'm gone? Oh god, and I thought you cared. Fuck. I'm so stupid."

He was running his fingers through his hair frantically and Kurt wanted to take his hands, hold them, but he didn't dare. Instead, he spoke quietly.

"I do care. It's because I care."

Blaine shook his head with a bitter expression. "Clearly not the way I care about you. I told you what I feel. I love you, Kurt. I love you more than I've ever believed possible. I feel like you're my friend, my lover, my soulmate; you're the air when I’ve lived my whole life in an oxygen tent. You're everything, Kurt. The love of my life. Why would you think I'm going to want anyone else?"

"Blaine, you're eighteen. You'll fall in love plenty of times more, you'll see."

"Oh, so now I'm too young to know? To be serious? To love? Why? Were you? Have you ever loved like that, Kurt? Do you love me? Even the slightest bit? You've never said."

The last words were choked, a desperate demand, and Kurt felt as if his heart was exploding. He swallowed thickly.

Tell him.

"Bee... I really, really care about you..."

Tell him now.

"I..." The rest got stuck in his throat though, fear coming in a thick, sticky wave, suffocating. He will leave me. Everyone does.

He couldn't.

Blaine swayed as if punched, a tiny Oh forced out of his mouth, and then his face closed off before Kurt's very eyes. He nodded formally, his voice quiet but calm when he spoke.

"I see. Well, thank you for everything, Kurt. I think it's safe to say this is goodbye then. Please don't try to contact me. Don't make this more painful."

With that, he turned away and left, just like that, quietly closing the door behind him.

Kurt stood there, paralyzed. He wanted to run after Blaine, to call out, to make him stop.

He didn't.

It took less than half an hour before there was a pounding on the door, and then a furious-looking Cooper was glaring at Kurt.

"Why is my brother home and crying?"

Kurt's heart clenched, but he managed to keep his own tears at bay. Not yet. Not until I'm alone.

"Because I refused to take his virginity."

Well, that was the short version, at least. He moved back towards the kitchen where a solitary bottle of vodka stood on the counter, and poured himself another shot. No diluting tonight. This was medicine; for numbing purposes, not pleasure. It didn't need to taste good.

Coop was right behind him, confusion temporarily dampening his anger.

"Wait. But I thought you guys have been having sex all along?"

"We have. Just not that kind of sex. I refused to take the final step." Kurt clarified. Cooper gaped at him, then frowned again. Even through the visible discomfort with the topic, his defensiveness towards Blaine prevailed.

"Why? So now he isn't good enough for you, after –"

Kurt didn't let him finish, his eyes focused on the empty shot glass. "How long do you think it's going to be before he meets someone else in Ohio?"

Cooper glared at him, shaken out of his building tirade, so Kurt continued quietly. "Another boy his own age with whom he might want to have some firsts to share?"

"He wants you, though."

That was true. Kurt took a moment to down another shot before answering. He could feel the alcohol work its way through his system, the sharp, cutting edges of his thoughts and feelings getting fuzzier and more bearable.

"He wants me because he's here now, with all the magic of the place and summer and freedom. Because he's infatuated with an older, more worldly lover. It will all fade in the day-to-day reality of school and show choirs and just, life."

"You can't be sure."

"I can't risk it." It was just a whisper.

Cooper sat down on the stool beside him, concerned, though anger still clipped his words.

"So what, you're breaking up with him just in case, because he might decide, one day, that you're not what he wants? That's cruel, Kurt. Not to mention, stupid."

"He broke up with me." Kurt corrected softly and, ow. Not nearly numb enough. He reached to pour himself some more vodka, but Cooper took the bottle and pushed it out of his reach. Kurt whined, annoyed.

"Wait a second, let me get this straight. He's sobbing in his room because he broke up with you? Well he clearly regrets it, go fix it!"

"I can't."

"Sure you can!"

Cooper was winding himself up to enthusiastic puppy mode, clearly relieved. God, they were so similar sometimes, he and Blaine. How was Kurt going to stand spending time with him now?

"Just go there, tell him that you're sorry and that it was a stupid-ass decision, that of course it's his choice who he wants to give his virginity to and – I can't believe I'm talking about my kid brother's virginity, kill me now. And bring him here before you do anything else; no sex in my apartment. See? Easy. Just stop being a fucking knight in shining armor. He knows what he wants and he's old enough to make his own decisions. You said so yourself."

"Coop, I can't."

"Oh for fuck's sake, why not?" Cooper was looking at him as if he was a stubborn child.

"Because he asked me if I love him." Kurt was surprised how easily it came out of his mouth now, one gentle slide of slightly slurred words. Cooper's eyes widened as he deflated visibly.

"And you don't."

"I do."

Saying it out loud for the first time was like a dam breaking. The tears came and there was no way of stopping them now, as the love and fear and pain, all mixed with the alcohol, slayed him. So he let himself cry. He slid down to sit on the floor at some point, propped against the fridge, the bottle of vodka clutched to his chest.

He knew he told Cooper to go take care of Blaine. He knew he was asking – begging – ordering him not to tell Blaine, never to tell Blaine about Kurt's feelings because... No, he didn't remember the because. But he knew there was one and it seemed to have been of great importance. He just remembered Coop's worried eyes as he promised not to tell, and his voice in the distance, talking to someone before he went.

That was the last thing Kurt remembered when he woke up the next day, complete with a raging headache and a serious case of carpet tongue. Slowly, he uncurled from the fetal position and took stock of his surroundings. He was on his bed, his pants off but the rest of his clothes untouched. There was a glass of water and some aspirin on the bedside table, and a large plastic bowl on the floor, just in case.

And he wasn't alone.

Sebastian was sitting propped against the headboard, in yoga pants and a t-shirt, his iPad in hand. So Cooper had summoned reinforcements then. Kurt must have freaked him out more that he'd thought.

He brought his wrist up to his face, trying to focus on deciphering the hour. It was difficult, his eyes unfocused and head pounding.

"It's noon." Seb's voice came, and even quiet, it sounded scathing. "Idiot."

Noon.

Blaine was gone.

***

The first hours after Blaine left Kurt's apartment were a constant shock of pain, every breath brushing like sandpaper against the raw, open wound somewhere deep in his chest. Every movement was a fresh starburst of memories because his body was Kurt's, just like his heart was, and Blaine really wanted to be able to hate him then.

He hadn't known it was possible to hurt so much without bleeding to death.

But then, in the middle of the sleepless night, exhausted and counting away minutes that separated him from the moment he would board the plane and leave it all behind, Blaine remembered.

Kurt didn't love easily. He'd been burned and broken and left too many times before to trust anyone with his heart just like that. It wasn't his fault. And it didn't mean he didn't care.

It was all it took to forgive.

Sadly, forgiveness didn't make it hurt any less.