Prompt: The five weeks of Blaine's trip to Europe (in chapter 25) from Kurt's perspective

"You did what?" Sebastian paused with the bottle of wine suspended in mid-air. Kurt calmly took it out of his hand and poured himself a second glass, full to the brim.

"I sent him away to Europe and told him to explore whatever he wants."

"And by that, do you mean what I think you mean?" Seb left him to his bottle and reached to pour himself some whiskey.

"Yup." The wine was almost certainly much too good to be downed like this, but whatever. Sebastian knew Kurt didn't come to him to sample his best liquors; he came to get drunk. Truly, epically drunk.

"As in –"

"As in places, cuisine and men. Yes. Don't play dumb."

Sebastian settled across from him in the leather armchair, looking wary. "I'm sorry. It's just, last time I saw you two together, you were this close to fucking right there on the dance floor, and it wasn't even a month ago. And now it's over?"

"It's not over. Not unless Blaine comes back and tells me it is. Which I hope he won't but fuck what if he does?" The third glass went down just as smoothly as the second, with only a tiny dribble landing on Kurt's thigh. Whatever, the jeans were black.

Seb put his glass away on the coffee table and got up. "Okay, I can see this is more of a crisis than I expected. I'll go get your ice-cream and when I come back, you'd better be ready to tell me what you were thinking, sending the love of your life away to fuck random strangers in Europe."

*

"Do you remember that feeling, when you're fresh out from your very first relationship, not quite ready to move on yet, but already curious how it's going to be, doing all those things with someone else one day?"

Sebastian's chuckle was dark. "No. I remember the feeling of getting out of the car after your first relationship and hoping the next one would be better, and maybe less drunk. But I think it's close enough."

Right. Kurt forgot about Seb's past sometimes. He waved his spoon in his general direction. "Do you need a hug? Or ice-cream? I could share a little bit."

"No, I need an explanation of this lunacy. And for you to stop dripping ice-cream everywhere."

Right. The explanation. Hopefully he had enough wine in him now to be able to talk about it. He poured another glass just in case.

"Oh, 'kay. It's just, Blaine and I, we fought. It was stupid, but he was angry at me, and he yelled something that– um. He said he doesn't even know how it feels to be with anyone else, and that he never will. And it... it wasn't even like he regretted it, and later he said he didn't mean it like this, but. I've never even realized that the thought was there, you know? This tiny little seed that could grow into resentment, or the feeling like he missed out on something because he was seventeen when we met. And I don't want him to face me one day when he's twenty five, or thirty, and tell me he slept with somebody because, I don't know, we had some problems and he was frustrated, and the resentment was there, and the curiosity, and – No. So I let him go and find his answers now."

Kurt stuffed his mouth full of ice-cream, trying to keep the tears away. It was too early for the tears. Sebastian sighed and poured more wine into his mysteriously empty glass, shaking his head.

"You are the most ridiculously chivalrous, gentlemanly, caring creature I've ever met, do you know that? And I really hope your boy appreciates that. Because I'm guessing it must hurt like hell, to do what you did."

"Like tearing my soul apart. Over and over again. But I love him too much not to do it." Kurt admitted quietly. "Can we stop talking now and just get drunk? Preferably while watching something that requires no thinking and has nothing to do with love?"

"Your wish is my command. Let's see... Die Hard marathon? The Expendables? Take your pick."

*

The hangover wasn't half as bad as Kurt expected. It may have had something to do with the fact that he passed out halfway through the third film and the second bottle of wine. Usually the therapeutic drinking sessions at Seb's were much more impressive than that, but between the fight and Blaine's departure, the stress and insomnia of the last few days must have been getting to him more than he thought.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Sadness was already settling deep in Kurt's bones, and Sebastian knew the phases of his heartbreak better than anyone, having witnessed it enough times. He let Kurt go with a wordless squeeze of his shoulder that meant more than any assurances could.

Now, it was time for grieving.

True, Kurt hoped that in the end, there would be no reason to grieve; that Blaine would come back to him with his love and no doubts left that the two of them were forever. But he didn't know that – couldn't know that, and living through the next however many weeks torn between hope and dread, waiting for the axe to fall, was impossible. In his heart, he had to let go – had to accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, there would be no more them soon. He needed to know he could do it and live.

They hadn't broken up and they deeply loved each other, that hadn't changed, but Kurt had sent Blaine on his way to explore the world and his own heart and desires. He did it himself, knowing how dangerous an adventure it could be. Pathways of the heart were tricky and complicated; he needed to be ready to accept the consequences when they came, whatever they were. He needed to let Blaine go. Truly, completely, leaving the door open if he wanted to return, but preparing for the possibility that he may not.

It took Kurt three full days before he was ready to function again. Three days of hiding in the apartment with everything else in his life on hold. It wasn't pretty.

There were lots of tears and some screaming into pillows, there was plenty of cursing his own idea and wishing he could turn back time and do it differently, convince Blaine that they were it, that he didn't need anyone else, ever, that without such love, sex was nothing. There were hours spent paralyzed with fear that the love of Kurt's life may came back a different man, with different feelings and different needs. There was going through years' worth of memories and pictures in a masochistic attempt at... he didn't even know what anymore.

He came out the other side exhausted but completely, unshakingly calm. It was a feeling like he'd never known before, the absolute certainty that no matter what came next, it would be okay. Whatever happened, Blaine was the greatest love of his life and the time spent with him, being together and loved, and just them, was the best time Kurt could have ever asked for. It was more than many people ever got – more than he'd thought he would ever get, and he was eternally grateful for what they'd had so far. So even if this was it for them, even if Blaine decided their relationship wasn't what he needed, it was okay, as long as he was happy.

But deep down, Kurt had a strong feeling that Blaine loved him in the same forever kind of way. They would find their way to each other in the end, no matter what came between them.

*

Going back to work and his usual schedule was surprisingly easy after that. There was no trace of the usual urge to forget, to deal with the heartache by means of working too much, or drinking, or sleeping around. (Not that he would sleep with anyone but Bee. Not anymore.)

With his boyfriend away, Kurt had more spare time than he'd had in years, so he used it to catch up on all sorts of things. He nurtured connections with his somewhat neglected friends, both the closest ones and those he all but abandoned in the rush that his life had become. He dealt with the heaps of old sketches and documents that had been waiting to be looked through and filed for ages; then did a major summer cleaning. He spent a full day in a spa.

Ten days after Blaine's departure he went to the gym, something he hadn't done in over a year. He went again the next day, and the next, and somehow, it became a habit. Using his muscles, feeling his body work felt good; and he might just as well start taking more care of his health and fitness. He wasn't twenty anymore, it wouldn't do itself.

Three weeks into Blaine's absence, Kurt started running every evening, a few laps in the nearby park before getting down to work. The pleasant ache in his muscles after a workout wasn't as good as an orgasm, but it worked just fine for now.

After four weeks, he sat at the abandoned, silent piano in their living room and touched the keys for the first time in months. His fingers, though a bit stiff with lack of practice, still remembered. In no time, he was playing and singing, losing himself in music in a way he used to do so often, long ago. It felt just as good as it always had.

Five weeks after leaving, so early in the morning that Kurt was just considering getting to bed, Blaine called.

*

They had agreed to no calling, just texting for the duration of Blaine's trip – it was his time, and Kurt didn't want to interfere, adding his own feelings and news from New York to the mix. He'd been getting daily texts with updates about Blaine's location and whereabouts, and sometimes a random picture or a few sentences about something his boyfriend found fascinating, but that was it. So a call meant something must have happened, good or bad.

Despite the almost zen-like calm he'd kept so far, Kurt's hand shook when he picked it up.

"Hey, Bee."

"Kurt." Blaine sounded breathless, but his voice, soft and warm, wrapped itself around Kurt like a plushy blanket. "I'm coming home. I'm coming home to you. I can't stand seeing all those amazing things around me any longer without you by my side. I want to show you so much, we have to come back here together, travel all around, there's so much to see, but I don't want to do it by myself. I love you so much, I miss you like crazy. I need to hold you at last, and kiss you, and never let go, not ever again."

The half-stunned, half-relieved laughter that escaped Kurt's lips was all shaky with tears that were suddenly flowing down his cheeks. "God, I love you too. When –"

"I'm just boarding the plane in Prague. I will be home tonight."

Tonight. His heart would be whole again, tonight. He'd have his Bee here, in their bed, in his arms, tonight. Here to stay.

Tonight.