2. THE MORNING AFTER

Blaine wakes up slowly, groggy and confused at first, his head pounding. He stretches and tries to remember what day it is and what he has planned for today, but something bugs him, some thought trying to come through, an annoying buzzing in his brain. He tries to sit up and hisses. Ow. Owowow. What the hell did he do yesterday?

And then he remembers. What yesterday was, what happened, where he ended up. Who he ended up with. What he – what they did. His bloods sings at the memory, his body thrums happily. Kurt.

But he’s alone in the big bed now. He lies back again, more awake, trying to regroup, think rationally. Dragging his reluctant brain away from I just had sex and it was the best thing in the world, he forces himself to face facts and remember yesterday. The wedding, the reception, everything in white and crimson, the way to the hotel in a long white limousine and then… His stomach drops and he feels slightly nauseous. He remembers every detail and in the bright morning light it looks even worse. Now, when he’s not so emotional and scared and shattered anymore, he’s able to see the entirety of the damage that he can’t repair.

Well, that’s not exactly true. He could try. He could go back there right now and beg for forgiveness, he could say that it was nerves, that he was confused, he panicked. He could move in with his wife, maybe get drunk to consummate their marriage, and live in peace and wealth ever after. Except he won’t.

He’s had it; had enough, he’s not deluding himself anymore. He’s gay, truly, 100% gay, anything else his family or anyone else tries to say about it is a lie. It never was just a phase, it’s not an illness or a perversion. He knows, he’s an educated, intelligent man and he knows that homosexuality is not a choice, and that his family is just conservative and intolerant and narrow-minded. This particular part he never had any doubts about. It never was a choice of his beliefs vs. theirs.

It was a choice – and not even a conscious one, because how conscious could it have been at 12, when he decided that his parents were right and pushed it all out of his mind – between believing that they know more about life, know better, and insisting on what he thought may be true. Between being considered a golden boy, a pride of the family, being supported and loved, having money for his needs and a generous trust fund waiting for him, or being alone, unaccepted and left on his own. It was a choice between what he knew all his life and the great unknown. For years, he never really felt the need to rebel; deep down, he may have known he was lying to himself, but it was just a feeble voice in his mind, easy to ignore. He chose believing his parents, chose trying to think straight, telling himself that it was the better way. What was out there anyway worth losing the comfort, family acceptance and financial safety over?

But now… now he knows. And the scale has tipped, and there’s no doubt in his mind what he wants more, what he needs more. He can clearly see the crossroads he’s standing on, and the two ways he can go now. One is easy and leads straight towards the horizon over flatlands, a well kept but monotonous highway framed in artificial grass and plastic palm trees, with eternally blue skies and a huge lamp imitating the sun. The other… He can’t say much about the other because he can only see parts of it. It goes up and down over hills and valleys, with forests and muddy puddles and waterfalls and rocks he can glimpse here and there. It’s a dirt road, with potholes and rough patches, and crushed glass spilled precariously in many places. It would take effort to go that way, and it could be risky, dangerous even. But there’s lush green grass everywhere, a sweet wind blowing among blossoming trees, and sun shines brightly, and birds sing overhead. There’s the promise of thunderstorms too, of sleets and rains and mists, but also of rainbows. There’s life there. And Blaine knows which way his heart chooses and if his brain has other ideas, screw it. He’s been listening to it for ages and where has that gotten him?

The funny thing is that if he went to a motel last night or even slept in his car for a couple of hours, to clear his head and calm down, he might wake up now and still choose to return to his old life. To apologize and grovel on his knees and beg forgiveness. Because he’s acknowledged he’s gay, yes, but it was just a dry fact that didn’t change that much. But now… now he knows.

He knows what he feels when he allows himself to look at another man and think, see without filters, and feel. Feel. He knows the touch of a man’s body and the crazy reactions it evokes in him. He knows desire and completion, being touched by other’s hand and filled and brought to the edge. By a man. He knows gentle and rough, tender and firm. He knows the hard muscles and a man’s scent, he knows how his body fits perfectly against Kurt’s, the way it never seemed to fit against a woman’s, whether in a hug or a dance.

He thinks of Kurt’s words, that he didn’t want to take Blaine’s first time, didn’t want to make him regret it and hate Kurt for it. But the truth is, Blaine was right when he asked for this last night, he was right saying he needed it. He did. Because now gay is not a theory anymore, something that he can put away on a shelf in his head and cover with a thousand other theories and memories and things, so that it doesn’t stick out. Kurt didn’t take anything from him. He gave him a gift that he really needed at exactly this point of his life. By giving Blaine this night, Kurt showed him what he was denying himself by following the road of his old life. Yes, he already calls it his old life. Because he’s choosing to start a new one.

And it isn’t just about sex. It isn’t even mainly about sex. It’s about freedom and being true to himself, about openness and lack of fear, about emotions and prospects and futures. When he thought about his future up till yesterday, he was bored. Sometimes despaired. Loveless marriage, fake sex life, work at the family company that fit his education, but couldn’t be further away from his true passions – it wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

Now? Now he feels excitement just thinking about everything he can do, the paths he can choose, the things he can try and learn and love. Love, oh yes, he can have love. Real love, with amazing dates and fulfilling sex, hot kisses and tender touches. A relationship built on understanding and honesty, where someone will really know and accept him, down to the core, and love him for who he truly is.  He can have a happy house and a partner he loves. Maybe one day, a husband. Maybe even children. He has nothing against children, it was just the idea of having them with that seemed wrong. How could he raise children, and raise them well, if he lived a lie?

Oh god, Jessica. He has to tell her. Oh, he’s really screwed up. It’s his life and he’ll deal with the mess he caused in it, and his parents – well, they kind of asked for it, didn’t they, forcing him into this denial. Now it’s their choice – they can accept or reject him. But Jess? The only thing she did was fall in love, and yet she’s the one most wronged here. Blaine feels like shit, thinking about it. He lied to her; not consciously, not overtly, but still. He never told her there was a moment in his life when he was sure he liked boys. He didn’t mention the fact that sometimes his dreams vaguely suggested he might still prefer men. She didn’t know all the facts when she agreed to marry him. What’s worse, there isn’t much he can do to fix it. Sure, she’ll get an annulment easily enough, he’ll sign anything she needs, but emotionally, it won’t help. Blaine just hopes she’ll meet someone better than him, who’ll make her as happy as she deserves to be.

He needs to call his parents too. It seems weird, but he doesn’t feel scared or guilty, or even sorry. Oh, he is sorry he kept up the parody for so long. He should have woken up long ago. But now, he’s made his decision, he couldn’t be more certain, and he feels ready to face the consequences, to weather the storm that’s inevitable and wait for his life to calm down before he starts it again, from scratch. He makes a mental list. Call Jess, call his parents, find an apartment, move his things, find a job… and get showered and dressed. Definitely that, first.

All his clothes are probably still in Kurt’s living room, where they left them last night. Blaine cringes at the thought of wearing the tux again, but he has no other choice. He looks around for a sheet or a towel to cover himself while ducking out of the bedroom to get his clothes, but finds none. He sighs, gets up – oh damn, his head is killing him – and as silent as he can, creeps out the half-open door. But it’s useless. He catches Kurt’s eyes as he’s passing the kitchen; his friend is standing by the counter, looking at him with a smirk.

“Don’t be shy. I already saw everything last night.” Blaine blushes deeply in spite of himself and Kurt chuckles. “I left you towels and toiletries in the bathroom. There’s a new toothbrush and a razor too. Disposable, but I guess it’s better than nothing.”

“Thanks.” He’s deeply grateful for his friend’s thoughtfulness.

“No problem. There’s also a pair of jeans and a shirt. The pants may be a bit long, but it should be alright overall.”

“Kurt, you don’t have to…”

“Of course I don’t have to, but I thought you’d feel better wearing something more comfortable than the tux, which you looked breathtaking in, by the way. Unless you plan on dressing formally for some reason. Do you regret your little wild moment already and want to go back and beg for forgiveness?”

Even through his pounding headache Blaine recognizes Kurt’s tone. It’s becoming sarcastic, biting, and it always means his friend’s on the defensive, feels a need to protect himself. Blaine understands then – he’s steeling himself for rejection, for a blow. Blaine left Kurt once already, years ago, just after graduation, when his parents demanded that he stopped spending his time with such an openly gay man. They threatened him with cutting their support and he wasn’t ready to say no. Not then. So he sent Kurt a note, apologizing, explaining, and never met with him again. Until last night. And while years ago they were best friends, last night they crossed this barrier and went even further. So now Kurt must fear that he’d be rejected not only as a friend, but as a lover as well.

Blaine closes the distance between them in three quick steps, his nudity be damned, and takes Kurt’s hands.

“I regret nothing. I’m grateful for what you gave me last night, Kurt. I needed it more than I can explain, I needed to understand, to see what it means, and you gave me that. Thank you. And no, I’m not going back. I’ll need to call and take care of things, but I think I’ll shower first.”

He squeezes Kurt’s hands and is relieved to see that his eyes soften, his smile comes back.

“Okay. How’s your head after the whiskey?”

“It’s been better.”

“I’ll get you coffee and aspirin when you’re done.”

Refreshed and dressed in comfortable clothes, Blaine feels much better. When he goes out of the bathroom, there’s a steaming cup of fresh coffee waiting for him by a plate of eggs, bacon and fresh bread. There’s aspirin too. Kurt sits opposite, sipping from a cup of cappuccino. He’s fully dressed, his hair perfect, his face fresh and flawless.

“Is this all for me? Aren’t you eating breakfast?”

Kurt quirks his eyebrow in amusement.

“I already did. It’s noon.”

Blaine startles.

“Noon? Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

Kurt shrugs.

“Are you in a hurry? I figured you could use some decent sleep, yesterday must have been quite the day. Besides, I may have been afraid of your reaction if I woke you up.”

“Why?”

“Um, let me think. You wake up in a room you don’t know, sore, with a hangover, and there’s a guy you haven’t seen in almost 3 years there. And then you realize that you’re married, only you ran away from your wedding bed, admitted to yourself you’re gay and just had sex for the first time in your life. With that guy. Yeah, I had no reason to worry whatsoever.”

“Okay, you may have a point.”

“How are you feeling, by the way? I mean, after last night.” Kurt blushes pink.

“I’m great. A little sore.”

“It will pass quickly.”

“Is it always like that?”

“You mean… Does it always hurt?” Blaine nods, just once. “Not really, it gets easier with time. The first time is usually the worst.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about, because mine was better than I have ever imagined. Well, I didn’t imagine it, but. You know.”

“I still feel guilty, like I stole something from you.” Kurt doesn’t look at him now, focused on his cup, playing with the milk foam on his coffee.

“Don’t. I’m happy it was you. I trust you. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, so I could open up and just be. And it really helped me figure out what I want.”

Kurt looks up now, his eyes more green than blue or grey today.

“So what do you want?”

“I want to finally be myself. Live the life I want, the one I choose. And it means my sexuality, my friends, my job, my passions… I’ll call my family and my… my wife in a moment. I’ll apologize and try to make things right, as much as I can anyway. Then I’ll go and look for an apartment. I have some money of my own, so I’ll survive until I find a job. And then I’ll start living my life. Learning to be. Maybe dating. Definitely meeting friends, old and new. I’ll just… learn to be me. Learn what it means. Who I am.”

“Good.” Blaine can’t help the feeling that there’s a slightest hint of hurt in Kurt’s voice, but when he tries to search for it in that stormy eyes, they are well guarded again.

Breakfast, coffee, pills – it doesn’t matter which of them helped because Blaine’s feeling much better now. The new strength, confidence covering him like an invisible armor after last night, is still there as he takes the phone from the pocket of his jacket. 47 unanswered calls. 19 text messages. He thumbs through them. Just as he thought, his parents and Jess. He calls her first. She answers in a second, as if she was waiting for this call, staring at her phone. With a pang of guilt Blaine realizes that she probably was.

“Blaine! Oh god, you’re fine!”

“Jess. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. It was a mistake.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just come back, we won’t even talk about it. Everyone has a right to panic, especially on their first time.”

“No, Jess. Wait.” He realizes, too late, that he said it wrong, gave her hope where there’s none, where there can be none. “Jess. This marriage was a mistake. This whole relationship. I should never… I should have known. I’m gay, Jessica. No matter how much my family wants to change it, I’m gay. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

His heart breaks as she sobs desperately, unable to speak. He really likes her, maybe even loves her in some platonic way. She’s a kind girl, a pretty girl. She’ll make somebody a happy man one day. Not him though. What he needs, she cannot give him.

Her sobs fade as a male voice sounds in the speaker, and Blaine moves the phone further away from his ear, waiting for his father to stop yelling. Of course, he should have known Jess would be there with his parents. And his father is telling him exactly what he’d been expecting – shaming our family name, what will people say, this perversion, how could you, you’re not our son anymore. That last one actually hurts, even though he knew all along they’d feel like that. The hard truth is that they’d rather not have a son than have a gay one. They’re that homophobic. But there’s nothing else he can do, so he just waits for his father to run out of steam before he speaks.

“I’m sorry, father. But that’s who I am and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I. Am. Gay. I should have opened my eyes and realized it earlier; stopped lying to myself and everyone around. But it’s too late to change anything now. I’ll just come and take my things as soon as I find a place to live and then you can never see me again if it offends you so much.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t come here. Send movers for your things. Within a week, otherwise I’ll give them all away. I don’t want you to taint this house with your presence ever again, do you hear me?”

Blaine feels as if an invisible fist cut off his air supply, but he manages “Fine” before he hangs up and sinks into the softness of Kurt’s couch. A moment later water stops flowing in the kitchen and Blaine hears quiet footsteps, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder, light and hesitant.

“How did it go?”

“Just as I expected. It’s done, though. I just need to breathe a moment and then I’ll go look for a place to live.”

“Okay. I have to go to work now, but let me know if I can help you in any way.”

“I will. Thank you, Kurt. You’re the best, you know?”

Kurt squeezes his shoulder and goes to get dressed without a word.

The process of finding an apartment to rent turns out to be not so much difficult as tiring. Blaine spends the afternoon looking at half a dozen places before he finally chooses one that’s small, reasonably priced, in a safe part of town and, incidentally, only a block away from Kurt’s apartment. There’s only one problem. He can’t move in until Friday morning; it’s Monday now. But when he calls to ask, Kurt says he doesn’t mind him staying till then. So Blaine calls a moving company and sets them up for Friday, buys some clothes and toiletries for that couple of days, and in the evening falls on the couch that Kurt prepared for him and falls asleep immediately, exhausted.