School is not at all what Blaine had expected. Perhaps he’s just been in private school for too long, but something just seems…off. For one, he’s unused to having Bethany by his side, but that happens at the beginning of every school year so he isn’t too fazed by that. No, it has more to do with the obvious segregation between students; lines are clearly drawn around cliques and they very rarely cross, save for the few Cheerios and football players that are in Glee club with Kurt.

Kurt doesn’t seem to mind, or maybe he’s just used to the way things are done at McKinley. He sidesteps the large guys in letterman jackets, the ones that tower over Blaine in a way that makes him completely uncomfortable. He stays close to the walls and never really comes to a halt unless he’s at his locker or near an easy escape route. Blaine doesn’t mention any of this, deciding to stick as closely to his boyfriend as possible. When Kurt isn’t around, he opts to shadow Finn or he slips in between Rachel and Mercedes.

There’s something unpleasant in the air that makes Blaine’s stomach knot.

He assumes it’s simply his lingering memories from the last public school he attended. There are no matching blazers here, no uniformity to smooth away ruffled feathers from different tax brackets.

Kurt doesn’t shy away from hand-holding, though, and that alone gives Blaine more courage than he thought he had.

When Blaine auditions for Glee club, he’s greeted with warm smiles and a strong hug from Sam. He is immediately accepted into their dysfunctional, mismatched family and it feels like home.

Like home and sanctuary and too much hope because he knows that none of this will last.

These kids will go on to college or Broadway, they’ll get record deals and their names might be in lights some day.

And Blaine, well, he’ll still be in Lima looking after his baby sister until she always remembers to look both ways before crossing the street. Until she’s old enough to make money for herself. Until she doesn’t need Blaine any longer.

After that, it’ll probably be too late for Blaine to even think about dreaming big.

As the school year progresses and the weeks pass, Kurt, Blaine, and Bethany settle into something of a routine. When Glee rehearsal is over, Kurt and Blaine pick Bethany up from the after school program and eat yogurt parfaits at Kurt’s house while they all do their homework. When Burt comes home, Blaine and Bethany usually walk the few blocks back to their house, but sometimes they get invited to stay for dinner.

It’s strange, watching Kurt help Bethany with her math homework. He’s patient with her, kind, and generous with his time. Occasionally he’ll glance up at Blaine over Bethany’s workbooks and smile like he’s actually enjoying it all.

Like maybe they’re a family, even though they’re not one at all.

Sometimes, Blaine can see Kurt coming home from work to an apartment they share in New York City, an apartment with all three of them, actually.

And then Blaine squashes his stupid hopes and dreams right back down where they belong because they’re young and Kurt has a future and Blaine has obligations.

And none of this will last.

Sometimes, Blaine breaks his own heart.

“I wish things could stay like this until…forever,” Blaine says one Saturday night when the air outside is cold. Bethany is sleeping and Kurt is pressing hot kisses along the column of his throat. Blaine forces his hips down against the bed, doing his best not to allow his hormones to take complete control of his body while Kurt is spread atop him.

“If you want my lips on you more often, all you have to do is ask,” Kurt breathes into Blaine’s ear before licking at his skin just below his earlobe.

“I mean just – mmm,” Blaine hums appreciatively when Kurt’s strong hand ghosts down his side. “Just – us. This. Everything. I wish it didn’t have to change.”

“That sounds almost too philosophical for a heated make out session,” Kurt comments, a smile in his voice as he pulls away to look into Blaine’s eyes. He traces his finger along Blaine’s hairline, gentle, sweet, hands full of care. “What’s going on in here, hmm? What’s making you look so far away?”

Blaine stares up at Kurt intently, wishing he had the ability to convey his thoughts with a mere look rather than a long, drawn out explanation of words that might make no sense. He threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of Kurt’s neck. Kurt has soft hair. He has soft hair and he smells good and his lips are a bit swollen from kissing and Blaine wishes his mind wasn’t always working in overdrive.

“I just wish we could stay here,” Blaine says softly. “Nowhere to be. No one else to look after. No parents at home to walk in on us. Just…here. Where the world’s quiet. And I can look at you and feel you. And maybe time will stop and I can just stay here with you.”

Kurt’s gaze falters. His eyes turn sad. He searches Blaine’s face, as if looking for further explanation but Blaine knows he finds none when he asks:

“Why are you thinking about all of this tonight?”

“Because,” Blaine whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind Kurt’s ear, “you’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I know it’s gonna be over soon.”

“What – why do you think it’s gonna be over?” Kurt wonders, actually looking believably surprised, like he hadn’t been thinking of it either.

Maybe he hasn’t, but Blaine isn’t naïve. This isn’t his life; good things don’t last long.

“It’s senior year,” Blaine reminds him. “We’ll be graduating in the spring and you’ll go off to New York and do all the things you wanna do and I’ll be here. I have to stay for my sister.”

Kurt sits abruptly, crawling off Blaine and curling his legs beneath him. “What about college? I thought – we talked over summer, remember? I thought we were going to figure out something together.”

“Yeah, we talked,” Blaine concedes, sitting up as well and leaning against the wall. “But – come on, Kurt, we both know there’s not really anything I can do. I’ve gotta stay here. And when I say here, I mean here, this house, with my family. Yeah, okay, maybe I can do some local community college stuff, but then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can only do so much at a community college,” Blaine explains. “Bethany will still be young. She won’t be able to get a job or support herself while mom’s off being – whatever. I can’t just up and leave. I have to take care of her. I won’t let her have some screwed up childhood just because I didn’t have the balls to stick around. I made a promise to her.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says firmly. “I know you love your sister. And I know how important she is to you. But there’s also a you in this equation. You shouldn’t give up your chance at a life.”

“I’ll have a life,” Blaine defends. “It’s just…here.”

“You – you’re just going to sacrifice your happiness?” Kurt asks, sounding extremely pained. “Just give up?”

“I can be happy here.”

“What, like you’re happy now?” Kurt questions. “Are you happy?”

“I’m fine.”

Blaine shrugs.

“I can’t – are you hearing yourself? Fine isn’t happy. Fine is barely content and you’re willing to settle for that?”

“She’s my sister, Kurt,” Blaine states. “And I can’t leave her alone, not when my mom is the biggest flake on the face of the planet.”

Kurt’s jaw tightens and Blaine watches as he sucks in a deep breath, as if trying to stop himself from yelling.

“I understand that she’s your sister,” Kurt says, attempting to remain calm. “I don’t need to be reminded. If you’ll remember, I’m around you and your sister quite a bit and I’ve never, ever made a fuss about the fact that you two are attached at the hip. I know what she is to you.”

“Then why can’t you understand that I can’t just – just drop her?”

“Damnit, I never said you had to drop her,” Kurt argues. “But you don’t have to turn yourself into some martyr.”

“Okay, it’s not like I’m gonna die just because I might wanna wait until my sister grows up before I fuck off to college.”

“Maybe not physically,” Kurt says, “but in some ways you’ll be killing what could be the best part of your life.”

“My life will be just fine, no matter where I am.”

“What happened to you wanting to live in a big city? What happened to wanting to get out of Ohio?”

“I can get out of Ohio when my sister’s old enough to look after herself,” Blaine states.

“And when will that be?” Kurt asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Hm? When she’s sixteen? Or eighteen? Or when she graduates high school? Or when she’s off living the life you never got to live because you were too busy taking care of her?”

“Don’t – don’t talk to me like I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“It’s not fair to you and you know it.”

“Of course it isn’t fair!” Blaine snaps. “My whole life has been one, never ending string of unfair! Believe it or not, I lived before we met.”

“I’m not stupid,” Kurt barks in reply. “I know that.”

“Then stop acting like you know what’s best for me because you don’t actually know everything about me.”

“For the love of – are you serious?” Kurt asks in disbelief. “I do actually remember that we’ve only been together a few months.”

“Good.”

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. When he drops his hand, his eyes are hard, colder than Blaine’s ever seen them.

“Do you ever even think about the fact that I had a life before I met you, too?” Kurt asks plainly. “Do you?”

Blaine remains silent. Of course he knows that Kurt was Kurt before they were Kurt and Blaine. Of course he knows that.

But Kurt doesn’t ever talk about that. Blaine’s never questioned why because it…just didn’t seem to matter. Kurt’s a pretty well-adjusted person. He knows who he is, he knows what he wants and he just – he’s solid. Kurt’s a rock in the middle of Blaine’s wind-swept ocean.

“Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I’ve had my own share of unfair?”

Blaine shrugs, and he realizes too late that the simple action comes off as completely rude and uncaring.

“You’re not the only one in this world that has ever suffered, Blaine,” Kurt says, like pure truth, pure fact, and Blaine knows he’s right. “Would you like to hear about all the times I was bullied? About how I was thrown into dumpsters because the guys at school thought I dressed like a girl or how everyone used to pick on me because I have such a high voice? Or maybe you wanna hear about the guy that used to shove me around and call me nasty names, only so he could kiss me and threaten to kill me if I ever told. Oh, but then there was that one time in middle school where a boy told me that my mother died when I was little because she couldn’t live with the fact that she had a son who was a faggot, and that was before I was even out. So pick your poison, Blaine. Which of my hard-luck-case stories do you wanna hear about first?”

Blaine’s eyes are wide, tears brimming in the corners and Kurt stares at him with thin, pinched lips and pain everywhere else.

“Kurt-”

“Don’t,” Kurt says swiftly, already climbing off Blaine’s bed and tugging on his shoes. “I don’t want your pity. I’ve never pitied you. I’ve just tried to be understanding and helpful because I know that we’re all dealt shit cards once in a while.”

“I didn’t-”

“No, you didn’t,” Kurt says, crossing over to Blaine’s bedroom door. He’s obviously primed to leave, but seems to think better of it because he turns around and faces Blaine once again. “I know you love your sister. And I know she’s pretty much your world. I just – I wanted the chance to be part of your world, too.”

“You are,” Blaine says, hoping he sounds as sincere as he feels because Kurt is, he really is. He’s done so much for Blaine. He’s helped and he’s kissed and smiled and made Blaine’s life a little brighter.

“Really?” Kurt asks. “Because right now it seems like I’m just looking in through an open window while you’ve locked yourself inside this house and turned your sister into a ball and chain. And she doesn’t have to be.”

“What – what do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt mumbles numbly. “It doesn’t matter because I could have made you happy. I thought I found a way to give you happy. But I guess you don’t need me. Because you’re fine.”

Kurt turns, wrenches open the bedroom door, and walks out.

Blaine’s chest suddenly feels tight. Tight and empty because Kurt had been Blaine’s heart. Kurt was his heart and when Blaine hears the front door slam shut, his heart dissipates into ash.

How – what happened? Twenty minutes ago, things were good, things were wonderful. They had been kissing and smiling and now there’s nothing. Had this argument always been there? Had it been lurking beneath the surface of Blaine’s skin? Had it slowly been bleeding out through his pores?

Are they – is it over?

Blaine curls up into the warmth of his bed. Kurt’s words ring in his ears. If Blaine tries really hard, he can still smell Kurt on his blanket.

“Come back,” Blaine whispers, voice cracked, broken, and lost. “Come back.”

Kurt doesn’t.