CHAPTER 8

Driving away is really not an option now, is it? Kurt takes a deep breath before getting out of the car and walking towards Blaine, painfully aware how awkward this feels. Not only haven’t they spoken since their presentation two weeks ago, but just today Kurt has basically fantasized about Blaine. While being in an intimate situation with his girlfriend. God, what was he thinking, coming here? Oh, right. He wasn’t.

Now that he’s close enough to see Blaine clearly, Kurt barely manages to hide a surprised gasp. Blaine looks… different. Completely different. His hair is curling softly around his face, the hideous glasses are gone, replaced by the other pair, and his clothes almost make Kurt blush. He looks relaxed and at ease in low-slung yoga pants and a snug black t-shirt clinging to his chest. His very well-defined chest. Short sleeves are hugging Blaine’s shoulders, ending right over the sculpted biceps that have always been well hidden under layers of clothes. Suddenly, Kurt feels very hot. He realizes he’s staring when he hears a familiar voice, ringing with surprise.

“Hi Kurt. I saw you through the window, why didn’t you come to the door?”

Kurt startles, blushing a little. Right.

“Um, hi. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me. I mean, we’re not exactly friends.” Right, that’s a clever thing to say – like it wasn’t Kurt’s own fault they weren’t. “I was just um… driving by.”

If Blaine’s surprised by his decidedly odd behavior, he doesn’t show it – he just looks at Kurt curiously for a moment before nodding with his easy smile.

“Sure I want to see you. Come in, I’ll just finish putting away the dishes. Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some, thank you.”

Blaine leaves for a moment as Kurt takes off his coat and shoes, and he can hear him talking with someone. When he comes back and leads Kurt to the kitchen, there’s already a steaming red mug of tea waiting for him on the table. A beautiful, black-haired woman with eyes as gorgeous as Blaine’s smiles at him from the far counter.

“So you’re my Blaine’s friend from the new school then?”

Kurt feels himself blush. “I’m Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson.”

“Good to meet you too, Kurt. I’m glad Blainey is making new friends. He’s lonely up here, after leaving all his friends back at Dalton.”

“Mom.” Blaine looks up from where he’s pulling the clean dishes out of the washer. “I’m fine, I told you. I have friends in Glee.”

“Mm, so you say. I’ve never met any of them. So, Kurt, are you in Glee club too?”

Kurt takes a sip of tea to buy some time – it’s strong, black, with a hint of vanilla; soothing.

“Actually, I –“

Blaine interrupts him suddenly.

“Yes, he is – he just joined recently. He’s got a really nice voice.”

Mrs. Anderson smiles, her eyes bright.

“I hope I get to hear you sing in one of the competitions.”

“Mom used to sing professionally, she comes to see me whenever I perform.”

Done with the dishes, Blaine leans against the nearby counter, and Kurt can’t take his eyes away from the muscles playing in his arm as he brings his own red mug to his lips. It’s so ridiculously manly and Kurt has never felt more physically aware of just how gay he is. Blushing, he looks away seconds later, his reason for being here suddenly back at the forefront of his mind. Blaine must have noticed something, because his tone changes slightly, from amused to almost concerned.

“Mom, we’ll go up to my room now, unless you need me to do anything else?”

She smiles. “No, of course you can go, boys. Here, take some cookies with you.”

Now that they’re alone without the safety net of books and project tasks, Kurt’s not sure what to talk about. So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind.

“You look really good in these glasses. Why don’t you wear them to school?”

Blaine looks surprised. “These things? I don’t know, because they’re old? And not really fashionable. The woman at the optic store recommended thick frames as the new fashion statement.”

“Yeah, but they don’t suit you. You look so much better in these.”

Blaine laughs. “Really? Thanks. Then maybe I should wear them after all. They’re much more comfortable, honestly.”

The silence is thick again and Kurt’s grappling for something to say when Blaine settles on the edge of the bed and looks at him questioningly with his (beautiful, oh why so beautiful) amber eyes, his head tilted a little to the right.

“So what’s wrong?”

Kurt startles as he settles in an armchair opposite, his mug still in hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Damn. Kurt hoped to be able to conceal it better and avoid the topic whatsoever.

Blaine shrugs. “It is to me. Do you want to talk about it?”

He’s about to say no and insist that Blaine’s mistaken, that everything’s fine. Instead, the vaguely phrased truth about today’s date with Quinn spills out of him among a lot of blushing, followed by a short, rambling summary of their history together – the official version, of course.

Blaine frowns slightly, shaking his head.

“So wait. She wants to go further, and you don’t. Why don’t you tell her that you aren’t ready?”

Kurt lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Blaine, we’ve been together for over two years, it’s already weird that we don’t do more than make out.” Blaine’s eyes widen, his lips forming a small o. Kurt arches his brow. “See, you thought she wants to go all the way, too, right? I already look like a freak for not even trying to go further, you know what happens when it comes out that I don’t want her to even touch me um… there?”

He puts the mug on Blaine’s night table and curls in on himself in the armchair, knees hugged to his chest and his burning face hidden. What is he doing, talking about it with Blaine of all people? It’s not like he can help him in any way. Except, the fact that Blaine is who he is makes him more qualified in the subject than anyone else Kurt knows. He’s so tired all of a sudden. Not just of today – of all this pretending, playing somebody he isn’t. It’s just one of these days, it happens sometimes, and he really should get back home, to his room, close the door and wait till it passes.

He can feel Blaine’s hand touch his shoulder briefly, a reassuring gesture, before it moves away.

“So… maybe you should talk with Quinn? Tell her why you don’t want this, maybe figure out what to do for you to feel ready for it? You said you two are good friends, I’m sure she’ll understand and try to help –“

“She can’t help the fact that I’m gay.”

It’s out of Kurt’s mouth before he even realizes he said anything, but when he does, he feels paralyzed, even though a small part of his brain cheers. Blaine is silent for what feels like hours, until Kurt dares to look up, terrified of what he’ll see. But the golden eyes are warm, the handsome face calm. Blaine smiles.

“Kurt, the fact that you don’t want one girl to touch you intimately doesn’t mean you’re gay. Maybe she’s just not –“

“No.” Kurt has no idea where this comes from, but now that the magic words have passed his lips for the first time, it feels like a dam breaking. He said it; he may just as well say everything. “No, Blaine. I am gay, I’m not confused or searching. I’ve known for years. I’ve just never come out.”

Now Blaine reacts, his eyes widening, honest surprise on his face. “Wait, you never… No one…”

“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever told. You will probably remain the only person who knows until I move out of this damn town.” And oh, here come the tears – big, ugly sobs shaking Kurt’s body, repressed for way too long. Fucking dam.

He can hear the fabric rustling and then a firm, warm hand, so different from Quinn’s or any of the girls, takes his and pulls him to his feet, right into waiting arms. He doesn’t protest, just falls into the embrace, tight and safe, and lets the tears flow. Blaine is a little shorter than him, but surprisingly, it doesn’t make it any less wonderful to just slump against his firm, hard body, hide his face in the crook of Blaine’s shoulder and let go; for the first time in what feels like forever, just let go.

Blaine is stroking his back soothingly every now and then, but he doesn’t say anything – doesn’t promise that it’s going to be all right, or say that it’s okay, doesn’t even shush him. He just waits patiently, steady and sure as a rock.

Finally, the tears slow down until they stop almost completely and Kurt slowly lifts his head, but when he does… Blaine’s golden eyes are just there, inches from his own; he’s so close that Kurt can count the barely visible freckles on the boy’s nose. And then his eyes flicker treacherously down and he’s trapped – Blaine’s lips, his stupid, beautifully shaped lips, red and plump, looking so soft, are just there, just… And then they are even closer and Kurt hears himself whimper, high and needy, his mind a hurricane of confusion, emotions, and want like he never felt before.

He’s not sure who closes the last millimeters of distance, but then they are kissing and it should not feel like something new – Kurt has shared thousands of kisses in the last two years – but somehow this is completely different. Kissing was always nice, but now – now – it’s electricity,  and thunder. It’s sparks and fireworks. It’s every silly cliché thing he’s ever heard about kissing and never experienced. It’s thrilling. It changes so much.

But then it ends and reality slams into Kurt like a concrete wall.

His eyes wide, he turns on the spot and runs out – of Blaine’s room and his house, out to his car and the safety of his bedroom.