5.

Kurt was nowhere to be found.

Blaine hadn't been worried when he'd disappeared from Callbacks with a text about a wardrobe emergency. He knew how particular Kurt was about his clothes; if he'd spilled anything on himself, he would have gone home to change rather than stick around. But he hadn't seen Kurt since – not at lunch on Tuesday, not in the auditorium on Thursday, even though Blaine had specifically watched for him throughout the rehearsal. Not in the halls or classes or all the usual spots that Blaine had memorized without really meaning to.

He hadn't replied to a single text since Monday, either, and when Blaine called him after the rehearsal, for the first time since they'd exchanged numbers, the call went right to voice mail. He kept trying all weekend, but Kurt's phone stayed off, and to say that Blaine was concerned would be an understatement. It was almost Christmas break. They'd made plans to go Christmas shopping together before going home, and there was no way Kurt would skip that without a reason. Something must have happened.

Rachel hissed like an angry cat when Blaine stopped her in the hall on Monday morning, and he raised placating hands.

“Not trying to steal your spotlight, princess. Tell me, have you seen Kurt lately? Is he alright?”

She glared at him as if he kicked her puppy. “Why do you care?”

“Well, I haven't heard from him all week. I'm worried.”

“You're worried,” she snorted, and Blaine frowned.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Like you ever care about anyone,” she huffed and moved to pass him. He blocked her way.

“Well, believe it or not, I do care. Kurt's my friend.”

Rachel let out a long-suffering sigh as she searched his face for… something, he had no idea. Whatever it was, she must have found it though, because next thing he knew, she was grabbing his elbow and leading him into the nearest empty classroom. She closed the door behind them and leaned against the desk, her expression strict and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Fine. Kurt will never tell you, and he'd kill me if he knew I talked to you about it, so you better appreciate my sacrifice,” she said archly.

“Okay?”

“He's in Lima. He went home a few days early.”

Blaine's heart did a complicated flip in his chest, as if trying to drop into his stomach. Something was wrong then. “What happened?”

Rachel shrugged, unaffected by the urgency in his voice. “Nothing. He said it was a family emergency, but really he's just avoiding you because he's heartbroken. Not a good enough reason to skip classes if you ask me, but if he needed it...”

“Wait… what?”

Rachel gave him a look full of vitriol. “He's fallen for you, of course, like I feared he might. For the record, I strongly advised him against that. The question is, what will you do about it?”

Blaine felt like there was too little air in the room. “He's–“

“In love with you, yes. And he thought you might be getting there too, no matter how much I warned him that it's not your style. And I– Okay, I'll admit I was fooled for a bit, maybe. All the time you spent together, the actual conversations, the dates–”

“But… those were friend dates!”

Rachel shrugged. “Well, clearly he didn't get the memo. So what did you do that made him realize? Some bed-hopping again?”

Blaine flashed back to the night at Callbacks: coming to the bar straight from Paul's bed, marked and probably reeking of sex. He suddenly remembered Kurt's face, pale and stricken, before he retreated to the bathroom.

“Fuck.”

Rachel looked at him with open disgust. “That's a good way to summarize it. It would be nice if you could keep your distance from him when classes start again, since you clearly don't return his feelings. Try not to get in his way if you can avoid it.”

“But he's my friend! Probably the most real friend I've ever–“ Blaine's voice broke in an embarrassing little hitch.

The unnerving certainty in Rachel's eyes was colored with pity now. “Well, honey, he's also the boy whose heart you just broke. I know it's nothing new for you, you must have a whole long list of those, but for him it's real and painful, and he needs his space. So do the decent thing for once, will you?” She pushed away from the desk, ready to go.

She was already walking away when Blaine called her name. She looked back at him with arched eyebrows.

“Just… is he okay?”

Rachel hesitated before nodding firmly. “He will be.”

And then she turned and disappeared through the door, and Blaine was left standing in the middle of the empty classroom, feeling like the air was thicker than ever before.

#

The terrible thing was, Rachel wasn't wrong. Okay, so maybe Blaine didn't have a list of the guys (and some girls, if rumors were true) who'd had a crush on him since he came to New York, but he knew there were quite a few. And he didn't care.

Well, that sounded cold. But the truth was, he didn't feel guilty about rejecting people. Why would he? He never led them on. They knew – everyone knew – that Blaine just didn't do relationships. If they ignored that and let themselves fall for him, it was their problem, not his. He couldn't be held responsible for that. Everything he'd ever done with any of the guys was under a clear disclaimer: this is casual. Usually one-off, and in the rare cases when there were repeats, it was still just sex. So even if he flirted with them, kissed them until they forgot their names and gave them the best orgasms they'd ever had, it was clear in Blaine's mind that it didn't mean anything other than two willing men having fun. It should have been clear in theirs, too. He was open about that.

Except now there was Kurt. Kurt, who was beautiful and kind and fascinating. Kurt, who cared about Blaine as a person and not as a sex object or a step up the popularity ladder. Kurt, who'd told Blaine no on more than one occasion and still, somehow, fell for him.

A part of Blaine's mind was thinking too bad, he knew the rules, just like everyone else. But a bigger part grieved the inevitable loss of a friend he'd come to care about more than anyone — a friend whose life was so entangled with Blaine's lately that it was hard to imagine it changing. It hurt to even think about not being on the receiving end of Kurt's radiant smile anymore; not being able to text him with something silly and random when Blaine found himself feeling lonely in a crowd sometimes. Barely a week had passed and he already missed Kurt's attentive face over coffee and his thoughtful words that made Blaine feel like he mattered. And it was stupid, but he missed what had never been his, too: the thrill of Kurt's kisses, the lithe lines of his body, his long legs that looked like they would fit perfectly around Blaine's waist. The fantasy of Kurt's lips around his cock and the sounds of his pleasure that Blaine had only gotten the tiniest taste of. He craved so much more, but now there was no chance for that. Now, he'd lost every part of Kurt he'd ever been allowed to enjoy.

There was a small, uncomfortable part of Blaine's conscience that pointed out his own fault in this. He had known all along that Kurt wasn't interested in anything less than a relationship based on genuine feelings. He'd known kisses and flirting and time alone together would mean something else for Kurt than what it usually meant for Blaine. He'd known all that, and yet he'd let himself not think about it, drawn in by the temptation that was everything Kurt. It was his own damn fault that he'd hurt and lost Kurt now.

And the thought of Kurt hurting was possibly worst of it all. Blaine could push his own disappointment and distress aside; he was used to skillfully distracting himself from any darker feelings to keep up his bright and bubbly demeanor. But being aware that his best friend was in pain because of him was impossible to ignore — and the fact that he hadn't even gotten to tell Kurt he was the best friend Blaine had ever had made it sting all the more. Barely two days had passed since his talk with Rachel and he felt like a wreck, unable to stop thinking about it. This was something he'd never felt before, and he found it deeply distressing. Worse still, it showed. His friends started asking if he was alright and Blaine had to work really hard to put on his game face and act normal.

Thank god the Christmas break was starting. He'd take the time to get back in form, try to forget. It was no use getting maudlin over a guy he couldn't have.

#

Christmas was a subdued affair at the Anderson house, like it usually was. Blaine enjoyed spending time with his mom, but then she had to go back to work, and he was alone in the empty house again, with too much time on his hands and too many thoughts in his head. His phone rang just as he was idly considering going out and driving around aimlessly, anything to escape the feeling of the walls closing in on him. He picked it up with reluctance that was highly unusual, considering the caller.

“Hey babe.” Sebastian's voice in the speaker sounded loud and confident. “How has your Christmas been?”

“Fine. Yours?”

“Cool. But I've had about as much of my parents as I can stand. Wanna meet for a quick fuck?”

Normally, Blaine would jump at the opportunity. Sebastian had been his first, and returning to him every time he was around felt like something special and important, no matter how non-special and unimportant their actual relationship had been. Something in Blaine always reacted emotionally to those little requests for momentary pleasure.

Not this time.

“Sorry, I don't feel like it today.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“I don't think so. I'm just… not in the mood.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully in his ear. “You sure? You're not exclusive with anyone all of a sudden, are you?”

“No.” But… what if he wanted to be? Maybe? Possibly? The mere thought felt like sacrilege.

“Then what's wrong? You haven't gone soft, have you?”

A sudden wave of anger rushed through Blaine's chest, unexpected. “Have you ever thought about just being with me?” he demanded. “Back in school, did you ever consider I wanted a normal relationship with you?”

Sebastian's laugh was dry on the line. “Of course you did. I hoped I trained you out of it, though. I did my best to show you how much fun you could have without bonds and promises, didn't I? But I always knew your stupid romantic nature would prevail eventually, I just hoped it wouldn't be on my watch. So the time has come, eh? You sure you don't want a repeat course?”

“No. You really think it's enough? Just sex, no attachments?”

“It's always been enough for me.” Blaine could almost see him shrug.

“Well, maybe I want to see how it tastes with feelings.”

Sebastian sighed heavily. “Pity. I've so enjoyed hooking up with you. But good luck, I guess? If you ever change your mind, you know my number.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The line went dead without another word, and Blaine dropped the phone on his bed with distaste. And to think he'd thought he was in love in Sebastian, once. He'd tried saying the words, small and wondrous, in the quiet confines in his bedroom when no one was home, and it had warmed him up like a little light. But even then, at the beginning, he'd known that Sebastian would never want to hear him say it. Now, years wiser, he understood that what he felt was wishful thinking anyway. He'd never loved Sebastian. He'd loved the idea of loving him.

Still, somehow he felt lighter now, after this conversation — after saying out loud what he'd hardly let himself think so far. He felt younger, filled with hope and possibilities. But filled with fear, too.

Sex was easy. It had been easy and familiar for years, long enough for any doubts about his skills to disappear. Blaine knew he was undeniably good in bed, and it made him feel great: desired, appreciated, confident. But anything more than sex? He had no idea. It was terrifying, the thought of making himself so vulnerable – not physically, but emotionally; giving anyone his heart, not just his body. Falling in love was a risk he may never feel entirely ready for.

But then, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that the process had already started, and a good while ago. What he felt for Kurt had been different from the very beginning, and had been growing for months even with Blaine's avoidance to notice or name it. Whether Blaine was ready or not, one way or another, Kurt already had his heart. All Blaine had to do was let himself fall and hope that it wouldn't be crushed. That he was good enough.

Or he could turn away and keep doing what he'd been so successful at for so long; listen to Rachel's advice and avoid Kurt; try to forget. That was an option too. It felt far less scary.

Blaine went to bed early, exhausted with too much thinking, and woke up at five in a dark room with a clear, single-minded resolve.

He knew what to do.

#

Blaine didn't know Kurt's address, but finding information about his father's garage when he knew the last name and town was a piece of cake. That was the only easy thing about it, though.

Waiting for a reasonable hour to drive to Lima was agony, now that the resolution buzzed fresh and sure under Blaine's skin. His body vibrated with anticipation, his heart pounding an anxious staccato, urging him to go to Kurt before he lost his nerve. But when he was there at last, parked across the street from the Hummel Tires & Lube, he couldn't seem to move for endless minutes, frozen with the realization: this was where everything could change; would change if he walked through that door. This was him consciously stepping onto a new path. There was still time to change his mind, now, to go back to the life he'd known and enjoyed.

Blaine stepped out of his car and started toward the door.

The garage was spacious and well-lit, relatively empty. Clacks of metal and some classic rock music were coming from the back of the shop. A balding man in an old faded cap raised his head over the papers he'd been working on at the front desk.

“Morning. Anything we can help you with?”

Blaine stumbled over the words he'd prepared on his way here. “No. I mean, yes, but… my car is fine, just—”

The man arched an eyebrow. “What is it then?”

Blaine straightened up, chastising himself. He was an actor, dammit, and he'd memorized his role. “I'm a friend of Kurt Hummel's, from NYADA. I was going to visit him during the break, but I don't have the address, so I thought… Would it be too much of an inconvenience if you could direct me?”

The man frowned. “And you couldn't just call him, if you're friends?”

“I… I tried, but it seems his phone has been off.”

The man hummed, reaching for the phone on the desk next to him and choosing a name from speed dial, and Blaine suddenly felt sweat gathering at the small of his back. The truth was, he hadn't tried calling or messaging Kurt again since his conversation with Rachel. For all he knew, Kurt could have switched his phone back on in the last few days.

It seemed not to be the case, though. The man put the phone down after a short moment and extended his hand to Blaine.

“Burt Hummel,” he said.

Blaine took the proffered hand, his own a little sweaty. So this was Kurt's father. “Blaine Anderson.”

Mr. Hummel nodded, then inclined his chin towards the back where loud, unfamiliar laughter was heard over the music now. “Kurt's in the back.”

“Thank you.”

It was too close, too soon, Blaine thought as he walked through the large space on shaky legs. He was supposed to have more time to think about what he wanted to say, to compose a proper apology, a beautiful speech like Kurt deserved. He hadn't thought it out that far in his eagerness to just go — he'd imagined sitting in his car a block from Kurt's house instead, picking the perfect words. But he only had seconds now, and his thoughts were all scattering in a panicked flurry.

He saw Kurt before Kurt saw him, and it struck him breathless after twelve days of not seeing him at all. Kurt was seated on a high work table next to an open car, swinging his legs and twirling a large screwdriver between his long fingers, too fast for the eyes to follow. He was wearing a soft gray henley, skintight blue jeans, and a radiant smile, his face set in a fond expression that Blaine knew so well. He'd learned to associate that fondness with their own private moments.

But it wasn't for him, now.

There was another guy bent over the open hood of the car, and when he straightened up, Blaine couldn't help the painful pang in his chest. The man was tall, his shoulders wide and strong in the blue coveralls, and the affection on his handsome face as he looked back at Kurt with a playful grin was undeniable.

Oh god, Rachel was wrong, wasn't she? Kurt wasn't in love with Blaine at all. Or he had been, maybe, but had found someone to comfort his broken heart already. Shit. Shit shit shit, he needed to go.

But it was too late. The tall guy had just noticed him.

“Hi there! You here for this baby?” He tapped the car gently with a huge hand, an easy, crooked smile on his lips. “It's almost ready, if you want to wait a few minutes—”

“Blaine?” Kurt asked softly. He was looking at him with wide, stunned eyes, and wow, Blaine had apparently forgotten the power those eyes had over him, or maybe that was how it felt when you realized you wanted to be with someone only to learn you were too late. His knees felt kind of weak.

“Um, hi Kurt.”

The tall guy wasn't smiling anymore, rather frowning angrily. “This is the guy? What is he doing here?” He turned to Kurt. “Do you want me to kick him out? No one gets to hurt you and think he can get away with it.”

He put aside whatever tool he'd been holding and stepped out from behind the car. Straightened up to his full height, with his shoulders squared, he looked truly intimidating. Blaine fought the urge to take a step back.

Kurt stopped the man with a hand on his chest. “It's okay, Finn. No kicking out necessary.” He gave Blaine a pale smile. “This is my step-brother, Finn.”

Wait, brother? Blaine's jaw dropped before he caught himself and nodded, still shaken. “Hi.”

Kurt looked at Finn again. “And this is Blaine, as you've already heard. Who is my friend and doesn't need to be manhandled out of here. But I do appreciate the sentiment, thank you.”

Finn's frown turned into confusion. “But Kurt, you said—” he protested, and Kurt interrupted him quickly, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks.

“I say all kinds of things when I'm emotional, especially when there's alcoholic eggnog involved, Finn. Blaine and I had a bit of a falling out, but we're fine now. In fact, I think we need to go grab some coffee and talk it all out, how about that, Blaine?”

Blaine was temporarily fixated on “we're fine now” and could only nod dumbly.

Kurt jumped off the table and patted Finn's shoulder. “I'll leave you to it, then. But I will get you to sing that duet with me, now that I've heard you in the shower. This is only a temporary reprieve.”

He flashed Finn a mischievous smile and grabbed Blaine's sleeve to lead him out of the shop. He stopped by the front desk to get his coat from the back of the chair and wave at his dad.

“We're off to catch up over coffee. I'll bring you back lunch.”

Burt Hummel seemed less suspicious now that he saw them together. He nodded. “Fine. But none of those zero calorie salads, I mean it, Kurt!”

The bright laugh Kurt left him with sounded like the most beautiful music Blaine had ever heard.

# 

“Kurt, I'm sorry,” Blaine started as soon as they were outside. Kurt shook his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said calmly before looking around. “I drove with dad and Finn, can we take your car? I know a place where we can talk.”

The drive was short and awkward, filled with stilted conversation about their Christmases and the weather. Blaine sighed a silent breath of relief when they parked by the Lima Bean, apparently the best place for coffee in town. The relief didn't last long, though. Kurt flat-out refused when Blaine tried to pay for both of their drinks, and when he led Blaine to a table in the quiet corner, he was holding himself differently, straight-backed and distanced.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine tried again when they were seated. “Kurt, I know—”

Kurt sighed and raised his hand, the serious expression on his face stopping Blaine short. “I know you talked to Rachel. She wrote me an email half an hour after your conversation, already feeling guilty about telling you. I know you know.”

“Kurt—”

“No, let me finish. You don't have to apologize to me. You didn't do anything wrong. I knew you didn't want feelings, so the only one who has anything to apologize for is me, for putting you in an uncomfortable position, and for running away. I'm sorry. I would very much like it if this little slip of mine could not ruin our friendship.”

Blaine reached out to squeeze his hand before he thought better of it. “Of course it won't, Kurt, you're important to me.”

Something sudden and fleeting ran through Kurt's face, too fast to be identified, but it tugged at Blaine's heart nonetheless. It was not a happy grimace. But then it was gone, and Kurt smiled at him carefully even as he inched his hand away. “You're important to me too. You're my only real friend and I would never forgive myself if I drove you away.”

Blaine frowned, occupying his abandoned hand with the coffee cup. “What about Rachel? I thought you've been friends for years. She seemed really mad at me for hurting you.”

Kurt snorted softly. “Right. No, Rachel is… You could say I'm her pet project of the year. We were in Glee together in sophomore year, for the single month before it was disbanded. Then she transferred to Carmel to ‘nourish her musical talents' in Vocal Adrenaline and I… and I didn't.” Kurt smiled wistfully. “She never talked to me after that, though we were still Facebook friends, but when I posted about my NYADA acceptance letter this spring, she messaged me immediately and promised to take me under her wing. First time we talked in three years. So yeah, that's our big friendship. We don't really talk much other than her giving me advice, to be honest.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So don't worry about her. She likes to act like she cares, but if I actually needed something, I have a feeling you would be there for me much faster than she would.”

“I would, Kurt,” Blaine said, firm and earnest. “I really… I care about you.” He had the urge to take Kurt's hand again, so he grabbed a packet of sugar to play with, instead. Kurt smiled at him warmly, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening.

“I know. I care about you too. Perhaps too much, but don't worry, I'll make sure it doesn't get uncomfortable, and that no one knows.”

Blaine took a careful breath. Now was the time to tell him. “Do you… do you want nobody to know?”

Kurt arched his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought you wanted nobody to know.”

“I… I don't know.”

“I don't think I understand.”

Blaine bit his lip. This was it. His hands shook over the sugar packet. “I mean… maybe I wouldn't mind people knowing.”

Kurt's curious, confused face hardened into a cold mask. “No. You don't get to have this for bragging rights, Blaine. Oh look, just another poor sucker falling for you? I am not giving up the rest of my dignity to become a NYADA laughingstock, not even for you.”

Blaine's eyes widened and he shook his head, mortified. “No! No, that's not what I meant at all, Kurt, please don't even think that.”

Kurt watched him for a moment, his face softening a little. “Then what did you mean? You have to spell it out for me, Blaine. I'm not going to assume again.”

“I care about you.” Blaine repeated. Wasn't that clear?

“And I care about you too,” Kurt said patiently. “But the way we care is quite different. I want to be your friend, yes. But if I could, I would like to have so much more. To spend more time with you, alone. To go on dates with you — real dates; to kiss you and have it mean something. I'd want to call you mine. My boyfriend. And this is not what you want.”

It wasn't even a question. Blaine wanted to protest, to tell Kurt he was wrong, but… For all the urgency and enthusiasm he'd felt coming here, those words suddenly sounded like prison. Boyfriend. Mine.

He didn't want to be afraid, but he so, so was.

“I… I don't—”

Kurt smiled sadly. “That's okay. Like I said, I really want to keep being your friend, and I promise it won't get weird. I'm quite good at hiding my crushes.”

“Who did you practice on?” Blaine asked, to buy some time.

“Finn, back in high school.” Kurt smirked at Blaine's surprised expression. “He never even knew; I idolized him from afar. And then there was another guy last year at the theater. I made the mistake of telling him. He laughed in my face. At least you didn't humiliate me when you rejected me. I call that progress.”

“I'm not rejecting you!” Blaine managed, indignant at the thought. Kurt's eyebrows rose sharply.

“Oh?”

“I just… I've never really been anyone's boyfriend. I don't know if I'd be any good at that.”

Kurt's eyes widened. “Not even once? With all… never? What about Sebastian?”

“Sebastian and I were never exclusive. We had sex, flirted our way through classes and Glee rehearsals, and then we went to parties and slept with other people. I wanted it to be more, he very much didn't, and with time, he taught me to enjoy the freedom of it all. So I don't know. I don't know if I'm boyfriend material, I don't know if I can do that. All I know is that I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone.”

Kurt was silent for a long moment, and Blaine found himself squirming under his level, measuring eye. Finally, Kurt smiled, warm and sweet, in a way Blaine missed so much.

“Well, I've never been anyone's boyfriend either, you know. So if you ever decide you want to try and see if we can both be good at it together, you know where to find me.”

“I… I think I might. Want to.”

Kurt shook his head. “No. That's not good enough.” His voice was warm steel, but his eyes were kind. “Find me when you're sure. And in the meantime, friends again? Because god, I've missed you.”