Chapter 13

The aftermath of Scandals is not nearly as great as it was in the moment.  Three sets of limbs are tangled and splayed in whichever direction they landed eight hours ago and that startles Blaine more than anything else when he blinks his eyes open.  He is being especially mindful of the sunlight from between the curtains dripping in as he shifts on the mattress to figure out where exactly he is.  When he can finally focus, he realizes he's inches away from kissing Oliver's nose and immediately scurries out and over the two bodies until he's clear across the room.

Blaine giggles at Kurt being so maintained and responsible, even after finishing off an entire bottle of tequila by himself, having had called a cab and sending the three of them back to the apartment over the coffee shop.  The only downfall is that there are no hangover supplies in this apartment, so he quietly leaves the bedroom after kissing Kurt's forehead and brushes his teeth before venturing downstairs to the coffee shop. 

The jingle of the bell ribbon pounds directly into his brain cells, but he pushes through the pain for the sake of caffeine and the little single-serve packets of Advil he knows about in the back.  There are a few customers in the shop but none in line, and the attractive teenage boy standing at the cash register surprises Blaine.  He smiles at him and proceeds behind the counter without a word.

“Excuse me, sir.  You can't just-”

“I'm family.  Where's Jules?”  Blaine is embarrassed by how groggy his voice sounds, a clear indication that his alcohol intake was simply too much last night.  The celebration was within reason, however, with topics other than Kurt's birthday.  Blaine is finally on his way up when it comes to Kurt, and if that doesn't complete his world he's not sure anything ever will again.

“Sir, I will call the cops.  You can't be back here.”

“Hey.  No cops.  I'm family.  Julie!”

Julie marches out of the back room to Blaine pulling espresso shots, an aggravated employee to his side.  Blaine is bent completely over and searching through the refrigerator under the espresso machine.   “Is there no two percent milk?  Oh!”  He stands up straight when he finds it.  “Found it.”

“He's okay, Ash.  This is Kurt's Blaine he was telling you about last week.”

“Sorry.  I forget there are new kids here.”  He grins and winks at Julie then turns to the boy.  “I used to work here, now I sort of own the place with Kurt.”  Turning back to Julie, he continues.  “Wait, what did he say about me?” 

“Uhhhh, you own the place?” Julie approaches and crosses her arms.  “What are you-”

“When Kurt and I get married, silly.  I'm working on getting rid of Oliver Twist up there and then I presume things will probably happen pretty quickly.”  He froths the milk and pours it delicately over the three cups of double espresso shots. 

Julie's punching out her adorable giggle Blaine's always admired.

“You're not allowed to laugh at me, Jules!  Why are you laughing?”  He drizzles caramel sauce on one cup and tastes it for confirmation he's still got the skills.  He does.

“He just said the same thing in so many words.  He told Jon and Ashton here that you're their boss just as much as he and I are.  If you're ever here.”

“Mmmhmm.  See?”  Blaine grins and takes that as a good sign as he connects the tops to the cups then proceeds to the bakery case to take an assortment of the carbiest carbs to have ever carbed the face of the earth.  “Okay, so six croissants and three lattes.  I'm gonna take bottles of water, too.  Do you still have Advil down here?  There is nothing upstairs.”

Julie nods.  She does need to keep track of the entire inventory, whether it's paid for or not.  She jogs to the back and gives him a handful of painkiller packets.

Blaine smiles and kisses her on the cheek after he shoves them in his pocket.  “You're amazing, Jules.  If I don't see you, have a great vacation.  We'll handle this place for the next few days, I promise.”  He grabs his bag of breakfast and the tray of lattes, balances the water bottles vertically between the coffees, and heads back upstairs.

He enters the apartment again and can't seem to help the flood of flashback slamming into his chest.  He puts their breakfast down on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, closing his eyes for a prolonged blink and allowing the feeling of low loss drown him just a little bit.  He's barely submerged in it as his eyes, now open and aware, linger on the small details that are so them, unaltered since the renovation after the attack.  He starts to feel the rush of blood in his ears, all the memories buried deep inside surfacing themselves quickly:  lazy Sundays dancing around each other with schoolwork and paperwork and homework and chores, attempting penne a la vodka in the kitchen and pouring the vodka over the pasta while the heat was still on thus causing a small fire and a subsequent emergency call for Thai food, making love on the couch and in the shower and on the wall and against the counter, bent over the coffee table, on the floor and in the bed but most importantly with each other, and hardly any fighting and just… love.  Simply being a unit of one here in this apartment and in New York with nothing to care for except each other.  He leans his head back again and closes his eyes, engulfing his body and soul into how it felt to have the love of his life belong to only him for an undetermined period in time.  Now, he's forced to share and Kurt's final push between Oliver's shoulder blades to send him off the cliff can't come soon enough. 

He can faintly hear Kurt's giggle from the bedroom, so he strains himself to listen for details.  Unable to truly point out his actual goal in this situation, Blaine grabs the breakfast again and retreats to the bedroom, shyly knocking twice on the door.  He attempts to swing it open with his elbow, but it's locked.  He can only assume what could be happening behind a locked door with Kurt and his boyfriend, so he doesn't wait to find out for sure.  He takes his cup of coffee and a croissant out of the bag and retreats back downstairs and into the Lima Bean, beelining straight to his table by the pole.  He waits it out, staring out the window and watching the light snow fall gently onto the world in front of him.  He tries his hardest not to feel ignored, slighted, and lonely but it's all so much easier said than done. 

xK&Bx

Kurt blinks his eyes open, halting to sit up in surprise.  “Shit, oww.”

“You had at least six margaritas.  Terrible for a hangover.”  Oliver mumbles into his pillow and turns over.  He looks and smells like Hell.

“Where's Blaine?”  Kurt looks down at Oliver then around the room as though Blaine will pop out and surprise them.

“Don't know.  Did he even come back here with us?”

“Of course he did.  He was just here an hour ago; I felt him.  Oh shit.”  Kurt launches himself off the bed and runs to the bathroom where he proceeds to let go of anything he's eaten for the past few days.  He's decided that he'll never drink again, he swears.

While Kurt is preoccupied with puking his guts out, Oliver takes it amongst himself to lock the door so Blaine can't ruin whatever is to happen next.

Kurt finishes up and brushes his teeth before returning to bed.  “Thanks for your help.  I'm fine.”

“If I see vomit, I vomit.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns his back on him, snuggling into the pillow he can smell Blaine on.  “It's fine, whatever.”

“I never gave you your birthday present.”

“Later.  I want to sleep until he comes back.  He's probably downstairs getting caffeine.”

“Kurt, let me suck you.”

“Seriously, Oli?  I'm not in the mood; I don't feel good.  Get some rest.”

“You would let Blaine.”

Kurt turns over to face Oliver and slams his fist into the pillow.  He laughs, but it comes out bitterly and unappreciative.  “Get.  Some.  Rest.”

“Wouldn't you let him?”

“Oliver stop.  Leave me alone, I really don't feel good.”  Kurt gets out of bed and opens the door to get a glass of water he can bring back to bed.  He feels the lock pop in his palm and nearly trips over breakfast.  He picks it up from his feet and puts it on his desk.  “Advil!”  He opens a packet and shoves two pills down his throat, washing his mouth out with espresso.  “He's a godsend.”  Kurt says it to no one but himself.  “Wait, where the hell is he?”

xK&Bx

Julie sits with Blaine to pass the time and keep his mind off of things.  He's half there in the conversation with her and he knows she can tell his mind is some place else.  The shop's phone in Julie's hand comes to life and she answers it politely and professionally.

“Good Morning!  Lima Bean on Main, Julie speaking.  How may I help you?”

It must be Kurt; Julie's face lights up.  The best thing about Julie is that she adores both of them as much as they love her.

“Hey, babe.  What's happening?  Are you upstairs?”

She waits while Kurt speaks, finding Blaine's eyes and smiles.

“Yep.  Want to talk to him?”

Blaine shakes his head and hand to signal “no, no, no!” but Julie shoves the phone into his face anyway and he has no choice but to take it.  He sighs and lodges it between his ear and shoulder.

“Kurt?”

“I figured you were downstairs.  Come home?”

“Yeah, I was up there but then you guys started having sex or whatever so I came back down to escape.”

“We weren't-”

“The door to the bedroom was locked, Kurt.  Don't give me that shit.  Look, I should go.”

“Are you going to come back upstairs?”

“Yeah, maybe later.  You guys have fun.”  He hangs up before he says too much of the wrong thing and puts the phone down on the table.  Julie looks concerned; he's sure she wishes she could fix it.  “It's okay, Jules.  I just thought we were at a different spot, you know?  I'll be fine.”

“Blaine, you disappeared for nearly two years the last time you said that.  Fight for him!  Show him you're better.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, staring out the window at the impending snow.  The wind is picking up; it's the period of time in the beginning of a snowfall where everything is beautiful before the plows come and make it ugly.  Blaine gets back up to make another coffee, just regular this time, and shifts back into his chair with his knees to his chest staring again at the world before him. 

“He knows I'm good for him.  He's resisting me just like last time, but this time he's giving in when I'm alone, which I think is fucking worse.  Like I'm this terrible backup plan that he'd rather not settle for.  I feel like I'm the other woman and that really fucking hurts when I love him the way I do, you know?”

“You're not the other woman!  You could never be anything less than Kurt's entire world, Blaine.  You'll see.  It'll all work out and everything will be just fine.”

“I think I'm gonna give up.  I'm not so sure it's going to be worth it anymore.”

“You don't mean that.  You two are… my only inspiration in ever finding a true love, Blaine.”

“And mine.” 

Blaine knows it's Kurt behind him without having to turn around; he'd recognize the emotion threaded through his voice anywhere.  He turns around anyway as Julie gets up and disappears.  He watches Kurt sit down and fiddles with his own hands on the table.

“Please don't give up on us.”  He reaches for Blaine's hand.  “Can't do this without you.”

Blaine tilts his head and laces his fingers with Kurt's at his insistence.  “I can't do this the way things are, Kurt.  I get that it's super weird that your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend are trying to… I should be stronger than letting you minimize me like this, like I'm this whore you keep around on the side.  Why do I put up with all of this?”

“Well, I'm hoping it's because I love you and you love me and you can't ever tell me that we were ever boring in our journey of being together.”

“Last night, I was telling Santana how I think you prefer an intense love that makes your heart ache, but you know what?  I want us to be fucking boring, Kurt!  Boring is good, boring doesn't make me feel like I'm drowning.”  He takes a breath.  “Boring is stable.”

“We have at least sixty-five years to be boring, but for the record, B?  Whatever we are, whenever we are it?  We're always stable.  I promise you that this is the last mountain of drama.  Okay?”

“You can't promise that.  We're going to argue, we're going to hate each other sometimes.  I just need to know that the next time we fight and I want to leave, you're going to stop me.”  His voice cracks.

“I have lived with that single day as a regret since you moved across the country.  There's no way in Hell I'm ever letting you break my heart like that again.  You, in turn, have to make sure to talk to me when you have feelings like that again.  The communication, or lack thereof, could have saved us from this whole mess.”

“I know, pretty.  I'm so sorry.”

“Hey.  You said it best… you had to mature a bit without me, right?  It all happened the way it was supposed to.”  Kurt straightens his back and squeezes Blaine's hand.  “Now, I have a proposition for you.  Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do.  Of course I do.”

“Will you come upstairs and fuck me senseless?  In front of him?”

Blaine grins.  “Only if you promise we can kick him out after and ride away into the sunset together.”

“Already planning the break up speech.”

“And there's a lot of other serious stuff to talk about.  Like the whole… long distance relationship thing, and do we jump right into the level where we were before, or do we start from the beginning?”

“These are all things that can be managed post-mutual-orgasm.”

Blaine stands up and holds out his hand for Kurt.  They connect and start walking out and up the stairs.  “I just want to make sure we are doing it right this time.  We're setting the foundation for a very heavy house to sit on top of it for the rest of our lives.”

“I understand that.  Let's build a house, B.”

“A mansion made of love.”

“Cheesefest.”

“Don't care.  I love you.”

“Show me and Oliver just how much.”

They climb the last few stairs and Blaine moves his hands, fingers digging into each of Kurt's hips, and he slams his back against the wall next to the door in the hallway.  He dominates the kiss and knocks on the door loudly so Oliver can open it and watch the show.  

“I wanna bottom, Kurt.  Please.”

Kurt nods and kisses him again as Oliver opens the door, wiping his mouth from evidently practicing some sort of hygiene in the form of brushing his teeth.  He speechlessly allows them both back into the apartment.  Blaine takes two hands belonging to different men and leads them down the hall and into the bedroom.

“What were you guys doing that needed a locked door this morning?”

“I was blowing him.”  Oliver closes the door to the bedroom and pounces on the bed.  “I'll blow you.  Come here.”

“He didn't succeed.  He was only trying to blow me.”  Kurt raises an eyebrow.

Blaine looks at Kurt and smiles.

“Can we just… maybe let the painkillers kick in?  Can we relax for like forty-five minutes?”  Kurt pulls Blaine toward the bed by his wrist.

“Yeah.  Of course, there's no rush to this, pretty.”  They snuggle in and cover each other with the blankets.  Oliver squeezes between Kurt and the wall, fighting to be involved.

A half-hour of tangling and re-tangling legs, whispers about how fun last night turned out, and comfortable silence preludes the following conversation; it's something that Blaine only thinks he's ready for but probably isn't in reality.

“Do we have condoms?”

“We have several.”  Kurt puts his lips on Blaine's and their brains short-circuit at anything else they should talk about before the sex. 

Kurt breaks the kiss, lifts his body over Blaine and digs some condoms and lube out of a drawer in the bathroom.  His pants are gloriously unzipped but still up against his waist, but his sweater is removed and folded neatly over the desk chair.  He approaches them both and sits back on the bed closest to Blaine's body.

“Mmmm.  So, I want to bottom.  I want Kurt to fuck me and I want to include you by way of blowjob.”  He removes his sweatshirt and tee shirt and digs his fingers into the inside of the elastic band around his boxer-briefs. 

He sees Kurt's jaw drop as he stands up to remove his underwear, throwing them off to the side.

“Blaine.  Jesus.”

“So hot, Blaine.  Who knew all those muscles were underneath?”  Oliver shifts so he can crawl closer to Blaine, almost pushing Kurt off to the side.  He drops off the bed and onto his knees directly in front of Blaine. 

Kurt watches closely, like a hawk recently hired to be the lead security detail.

“I plan on giving you the best blowjob of your life.”  Oliver puts his fingers on Blaine's skin.

Blaine's eyes find Kurt's immediately, and there's just something not right about this situation.  Kurt looks away first, almost as if he is ashamed to have brought Blaine into this complication. 

As Oliver licks the tip of his cock, succeeding to bring it to life, Blaine watches as Kurt clearly goes through some sort of terrifying inner monologue, eventually working up to a pace and the sincere need to re-button his pants. 

Kurt scatters to his clothes, throwing them back on in record time.

“Um… guys, this really isn't working for me.  I can't watch my ex and my current…” Kurt rushes to the door and grabs the knob, pulling it open as graceless as ever.  “I can't…” The emotion he tries to push away is overbearing and he has to get out of there quickly.  Looking off toward Oliver and then Blaine, both staring back at him, he whispers that he's sorry, and disappears out into the snow of downtown Lima, Ohio. 

“Fuck!  I told him this was a bad idea.  Kurt, shit!  Wait.”  Blaine is tripping over putting his pants back on and then trying to get his complicated boots on so he can chase after him with little to no effort but he can feel him getting away.  “Do you know how much I hate you, Oliver?  He just wants to please the people in his life and he never thinks about himself.  How do you not get that after you've been with him for so long?  Fuck!”  He slams the door shut and slides down the stairs, fumbling with his phone to call Kurt.  When he doesn't pick up twice in a row, Blaine continues outside, which is a ghost town with dangerous snowdrifts and wind.  The plows still haven't come, but the banks on the sidewalks are building up and transforming the town into a winter wonderland.  Icicles and fluff make the tree branches bend, almost to the point of snapping, and Blaine realizes that he can't see four feet in front of him in the thickness.  It looks like he's trapped forever in a snow globe and, more than anything, Blaine's worried that Kurt will try to walk the whole way home in this. 

Blaine slips and sprints the best he can toward the Hummel residence, looking desperately for any footprints in the snow as he runs against the wind, and when there are none, he decides that there's no way he wouldn't have caught up with him by now if he had even gone this way.  It's been a good twenty minutes since Kurt stormed out, so Blaine tries to call him yet again, to no avail.  It goes straight to voicemail, so he turns around and tries to go the other way, toward the tire shop near Blaine's old home.  “Fuck!”

He feels like a lost puppy, sweating and shivering at the same time as he makes his way back past the Lima Bean and walks in a different direction toward the other part of town.  It's another half hour of his bones being positively chilled before he finally stomps into the garage and looks around frantically for Burt.

He spots him up in his office, overlooking the loud garage, concerned face with a phone hooked to his ear.  He hangs up and silently rubs his hands on the top of his bald head, placing his baseball cap back on.

Blaine knocks on the door after a minute, deeming it enough time to have Burt calmed.  Burt's eyes shift and he motions with his hand that the door is open.

“Hey bud.  He's not here, but he's okay.”

Blaine nods and sits in the chair in front of Burt's desk.  “We're almost back together, I think.”

“He said the same thing a few weeks ago.  Nothing would make me happier, son.”

Blaine nods again, if only to will away the sharp tears pooling in his eyes.  “Can I go see him?  Where is he?”

“He told me not to tell Oliver.”

“Mmmm.  I'm not Oliver, Burt.”

“You can say that again, kid.  He's visiting his mother and Finn.  The cemetery behind Lima Memorial.”

“I've never… in all my time I've known you guys, I've never gone there with him.”

“He only goes there when he really needs some time to think.  I don't know what happened between him and Oliver to push him there, but I suggest you go save my boy, Blaine.”

“Yeah, always.  Can I borrow a car?”

Burt laughs.  “How you boys lost a BMW, I'll never understand.”

“It's still at Scandals.  We were counting on Oliver to not drink and then he proceeded to get sloshed because he's a squirmy little fuck who can't keep his promises.  We took a cab to the Lima Bean because your son is the only person in the world who is capable of thinking in his right mind after a bottle of tequila.”  Blaine smiles; he's ridiculously in love and there's no use trying to hide it in front of Burt, a man who knows him very well.

“That's my boy.  Go get 'em. And for the sake of both of you, be careful when you sneak up on him.  He tends to block out everything around him when he's there.”  Burt hands him the keys to one of his tow trucks and pats his shoulder.

“You know I'm chasing him again, right?”

“I still love you for it, kid.  Go!”

“Thanks.  We'll check in later.”  Blaine runs to the truck and jumps in.  Speeding as much as he can in the snow, he finally can see the top of Kurt's head ten minutes later as he pulls off to the side of the road and parks the tow truck.  His boots are ruined, socks bled through with the wet of the snow, but Blaine hardly cares at all.  He rushes down the covered path toward Kurt, blissfully unaware and staring down at a tombstone.  He doesn't want to startle Kurt so he calls out his name from fifty feet away.  Kurt's back straightens; he visibly squeezes into his body tighter.

Blaine takes a few more steps.  “Kurt.  Baby, it's only me.”

He turns to face Blaine, wrecked eyes and tearstained cheeks.  Blaine swears he can see tiny icicles on the tips of Kurt's eyelashes.  “You knew where to find me.”

“I've actually… I started on foot toward your house, went to the tire shop, and Dad pointed me in the right direction.  I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner.”

Kurt waves him off and turns back to the grave.  “You can finally meet Finn.”

“Mmhmm.”  Blaine stands next to Kurt and takes his hand. “Finn Hudson.  I'm Blaine Anderson.  I'm going to be your brother-in-law one day.”

Kurt laughs lightly.  “He knows that already.”

“His niece's father?”

“Talked about that too.”

“Is there anything he doesn't know about me?”  Blaine looks at Kurt and smiles.

“I've never been able to explain the way I love you in the right way to him.  He wouldn't understand and I don't know how to… dumb it down.  Every time I try, words escape and I wind up just sobbing into my knees on the ground.”

“Well…” Blaine pulls Kurt down onto the ground in front of Finn's grave.  He brushes off the stone so the engraved lettering is shown.  “We can just sit here for a while, but I do wanna meet your mom too.”

So they sit in pure quiet, minus the gusts of wind and the creepy howls in the distance.  At some point, Kurt crawls into Blaine's lap and they're utterly soaked and cold to the bone but content enough to be comforting each other in this capacity.  The silence to think is what they both need.

Kurt suddenly jumps up and pulls Blaine to stand.  Blaine can only obey and he's led down the path, deeper into the rows of tombstones, all virtually identical to the others. 

“Mom hasn't heard as much about you as Finn, because it's kinda awkward to gush about your boyfriend to your mother.”

“Assuming we were boyfriends.”  Blaine tangles his fingers with Kurt's and squeezes.  “I'm just kidding.”

“I don't know how you do it.  You always make me feel better no matter what.  Even when we're walking on a path conveniently located between two of my dead family members.”  Kurt hugs Blaine around the waist.  “You never cease to amaze me.  Thank you.”

“For as long as we live, you will never have to thank me for a single thing.  This is all what someone does when they love you the way you deserve to be loved, pretty boy.”

“Speaking of people undeserving… where did you leave Oliver?”

“Mmmm, the apartment.  I figured it was a central place and he's a smart guy.  Surely, he can find his way to an airport in rural Ohio.”

Kurt stops walking and Blaine bumps into him without expectation. 

“Oww. What the fuck, Kurt?”

“Blaine Anderson, meet Elizabeth Hummel.  My mom.”

“Why am I always making a terrible first impression?  First Burt, and now I just said fuck in front of your mom!”

Kurt laughs.  “It's just a thing you do.  Whatever, it'll be a good wedding story.”

“Mmmm, I bet she was beautiful.  Burt always tells me how you take after her.  The way you love and care for people is a reflection from her… so I think it's only necessary to thank you, Mrs. Hummel… for raising a boy who is both a joy and honor to love.  I hope our little…” He struggles to find the word.  “I hope our little digression from one another for a little while didn't disappoint you too much, because I plan on making it up to him, to all of you, for the rest of our lives together if he'll let me.”

“I'll let you.”

Blaine smiles.  “Kurt.”

“Mmmm?”

“It's a really great thing that you didn't take me here during the questionable bad boy phase.  At least we can say I wasn't an asshole to both your parents the first time I met them.”

“You're such an asshole,” Kurt flirts and turns his body so he's connected all the way down Blaine's side.  “Love you, B.”

“I love you, and you can guarantee I do because I'm about to suggest the craziest situation ever, like in the history of situations.”  There's a beat; Kurt's listening intently.  “You shouldn't break up with Oliver yet.”

“Blaine, please.  That's crazy, you're crazy.”

“Go back to New York with him and have an adult conversation without me around.  Then come back to me as soon as you can.  We'll figure out everything but not until you maturely get rid of the unnecessary rats nipping at your ankles.”

“You are more what I need now than you ever were years ago.  I can't even believe… this version of you is your destiny.  Don't you dare ever lose it.”

“I'm just trying to be someone you could turn to for advice about anything.  Even boyfriends.”

“This will be the last time I'm looking for advice about boyfriends, because after this one, I will have the most perfect one for the rest of my fucking life, Anderson.  You wait and see.”

“Let's go home, babe.”  Blaine wipes off Elizabeth's grave with his sleeve and smiles down at the ground.

Kurt nods.  “Love you, Mom.”

“Thanks again, Missus H.”

Kurt smiles as they latch onto each other's hands and start walking up toward the tow truck.

“So… Anderson-Hummel or Hummel-Anderson?  Maybe we drop the Anderson altogether?”  Blaine opens the door for Kurt and watches him scurry inside with a smile as big as the Empire State flailing across his lips.

He needs to get home to San Francisco to get that ring.

xK&Bx

“I was so close to whoring you out to my boyfriend.”

“Babe, it's okay.  I was there just as much as you were.  It's okay.”

“Did my dad ask what was wrong?”

“No, he assumed it had to do with Oliver though and I didn't correct him.  I can make myself scarce if that's what you need.  I mean, it feels like you maybe can't manage your time between catering to me and him.”

Kurt looks at him, really studying him so much so that Blaine feels like he's under a microscope.  He becomes self-conscious, looking far away into another universe to avoid Kurt's blatant stares.  “What?”

“I look at you, every time I look at you… Blaine, you break my heart.  This whole thing, all of this could have been avoided if we were just… better at it.  If we were better at being us, we would have been married or at least engaged by now.”  Kurt looks away. “We've wasted so much time.”

“You said we have so much time to be boring, pretty.  Remember?  We do.” 

“In the grand scheme of things, we really only get a few days.  I know that better than anyone, with Finn and my mom… I have wasted so much time with other people who don't deserve even an ounce of my attention.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don't know yet.  I'm just thinking out loud.”

“Okay.  You do that and I'm gonna drive.”

Blaine pulls out of the cemetery and into traffic.  He drives through a few yellow lights before Kurt speaks again.

“I want to be with you.  I just have other stuff to take care of before I can give myself to you completely.”

“Uh huh.  I know.  I told you to deal with it and I'll be here when you're done.  But all within reason.”

“Within reason?”

“Yeah, Kurt.  You're making this more complicated than it needs to be.  I love you; I'll never stop loving you.  There will be a time, though, that I stop trying to win you over.  I'm sorry, but this isn't fair to me so there will come a time when I can't anymore.  It's not now, it's probably not even soon.  Just know that the time will come eventually if you don't act on this.”

xK&Bx

Blaine drives aimlessly in silence, most likely praying for the lack of Kurt's inevitable panic attack.  Without any warning, he parks in Santana's driveway and gets out of the truck.  He looks at Kurt through the windshield, clearly expecting him to join.  Something about what Blaine just said really makes Kurt think, possibly for the first time in a long time seriously.

He does join after a minute by himself.  Wherever Blaine goes, he'll follow.

Kurt stares at the front door, paint chipped in all the right places to determine regular wear and tear.  He watches as Blaine knocks on the door with his right hand and squeezes Kurt's with his left.  It's a beautiful reminder that Kurt needs; Blaine is present and everything is fine.  Kurt knows that Blaine realizes he's seconds away from a breakdown, so when Santana pulls the door open, they brush past quickly and quietly.

“Guys?  Is everything okay?  You're soaked.”  Santana closes the door and turns to them.  “What's up?”

Willa comes into the living room with cookie batter stuck to her hands.  “Hey buddies!  How's the hangover?”

Santana raises an eyebrow and looks at them more closely.  “Where's Olive Oil?”

“Can we crash here for a little bit?  Oliver's at the apartment and Burt's house is empty and if we go back there, we'd probably have sex and that is so not what anyone needs right now.  So can we hang out here for a while?” 

Kurt looks at Blaine as he rambles, who is clearly spooked, and tilts his head.  It's all that he needs when Blaine goes into protection mode to ensure everything will be okay, and it's something that Kurt appreciates immensely every time.  His lips twitch upward just enough for Blaine to see and light up the room with his own smile. 

“That's okay, Kurt?  I mean, I didn't ask you if you wanted to be with other people right now.  I just… figured.  This might be better than…” Blaine tries to catch Kurt's eye and gives up when Kurt makes it impossible.

“No, no.  It's fine.  I'm fine.”

“You're not.”  Santana puts an arm around his shoulders and rubs at his upper arm.  “Even though you're being a huge asshole by joshing Blainers around… Come in, I'll make some hot cocoa and find you dry sweatpants or something.  Willa?”

“Santana.”  Kurt hears the warning in Blaine's voice.

“On it.”  Willa disappears as Kurt can hear Blaine taking his shoes off behind him.

Kurt's fucked everything up by lingering somewhere between Blaine and no Blaine.  He's convinced of that much.

Willa comes back with sweatpants and two hoodies; she thrusts both pairs into Blaine's hand and smiles at him warmly.  Kurt sees the whole exchange in his peripheral vision.  He tugs away from Santana's grasp, turning to face them.  Blaine smiles, although it seems like there's pity written all throughout his body.  

“Kurt.  Baby, let's go get changed before you get sick.  Willa found some clothes and maybe if we're nice to Striptease, we can even use her dryer.  What do you say?”

“When do you go back to school?”  Kurt threads his arm through Blaine's elbow as Blaine turns and leads them down the hall and into Santana's bedroom.

“I have to be back by the nineteenth.”

“But when are you?  Going back?”

“You tell me, pretty.”

Kurt openly focuses on Blaine's face.  He can't bear to see Blaine go.  Not after this trip; this trip home has changed everything.  “Don't ever leave me.  I'm so sorry, Blaine.  I choose you.  I choose you now, don't give up.”

“Jesus, Kurt.” 

Kurt crashes his body into Blaine's and the breakdown has arrived, fully and with all the thunder and lightning a body could possibly hold.  He's such a mess; he's always such a mess and there's nothing he can do to even catch his breath for two seconds, let alone maintain some lie of confidence in his basic needs of survival.

Blaine takes a hold of his shoulders and shifts him away so they can see each other.  “I need you to get a grip here.  I need you to be as strong as I know you are and I need you to change your clothes so that you're dry and comfortable.” 

Kurt shakes his head petulantly and squirms to tear his shoulders out of Blaine's control. 

“Kurt!  Stop this!  Why are you being so fucking immature right now?  It's not like you didn't know what you were in the middle of with this shit.”

“I can't lose you again.”

Blaine looks at him then pushes him so he's sitting on the bed.  Blaine promptly sits on his knees and reaches to unbutton Kurt's pants.  He tugs at them and his underwear until Kurt is naked from the waist down.  Blaine feeds each leg through the holes at the bottom of the sweatpants as though he's dressing a toddler or a doll, and then extends his knees to get back up on his feet.  He palms Kurt's chest, right over the heart, and Kurt lifts his arms in response.  Blaine crumbles the wet shirt in a pile on the floor with the wet jeans and guides Kurt's torso through until he's fully dressed again.  He steps away and changes himself, obviously fully aware of Kurt's lingering eyes on every inch of his body, if the show of hips wiggling out of his boxers is any indication.

Blaine looks completely ridiculous in Capri sweatpants with a tuxedo-stripe of sequins down the leg, branded femininely with Victoria's Secret, and a plain, black, zip-up sweatshirt with material that just won't give around his biceps.  He has his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

“Stand up, Kurt.”

Kurt does as he's told and looks down at his own outfit:  mustard yellow sweatpants with the elastic at the ankles and a Tiffany blue sweatshirt that's choking him around the neck, branded by Hollister and subsequently making him feel like a tool and a half.  He takes it all in and shifts his stare back to Blaine and his outfit before barking out a loud laugh and sob all in the same sound.  “B, you are so gay.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow, somehow looking sexier than ever before as he stalks toward him and slowly opens his arms.  “Did we dodge a panic attack just then or do you still feel it coming?”

“I'm okay.  It all just kind of hit me.  Sometimes it just all comes crashing down and it feels like I can't breathe, like I don't want to anymore.”  Kurt looks at Blaine and plasters on a sad smile.  “I lost it when you said you might give up… you said it at the coffee shop then again in the car and I just… tried to picture my life without you in it again and all that kept coming up was my own grave.  Next to Finn.”

“Hey!  Don't you fucking dare, Kurt.  I'm here with you for as long as you'll have me.  You're a survivor and I'm here to make sure of it.”  Blaine closes the distance between them and holds him tight, drawing circles on his back.  He sniffles and Kurt can tell he's trying to hold back tears.  “You always say that you can't go on without me?  Well, I'm right there next to you if you do something as stupid as that.  Do you understand me?  Not one breath is worth it without your dramatic ass, pretty.”

“Okay Romeo.”

“Only if you're my Juliet.”  There's a pause and then Blaine is doubling over, pretending to vomit everywhere.  “Disgusting.  We are so gross, Kurt.  This shouldn't ever be spoken of again.”

Kurt smiles and rolls his eyes.  And he's the dramatic one.  “I literally can't anymore, Blaine.  We're done talking about it.”

“We can take action now?”

They can certainly take action now.  Kurt doesn't mean to resist Blaine at every opportunity, it's merely an instinct – as if being with Kurt will hurt Blaine somehow.  “Yeah.”

He knows that Blaine wants to be with him; he's sure of that much.  He knows that he, in turn, wants to be with Blaine for the rest of his time, but is he that lucky to have found something in life that will stick around forever? 

He can't, for the life of him, seem to figure out why every time he thinks of leaving Oliver for another man who means an infinite amount more to him, it makes him sick to his stomach.  It's like he'd rather be in pain than put someone else there.

As if Blaine can read his mind, he says the words that Kurt may be the most afraid of.  “Kurt?  You do want to be with me, right?”  And it's this very moment that Kurt has been trying to avoid since the second he laid eyes on Blaine back in New York for the first time in two years.  “You are all in here with me, yeah?”

“The struggle became real as I was watching Oliver with you.”

“What do you mean?  Kurt, tell me what you mean.”  He's freaking out, with reason Kurt supposes.  He doesn't mean to strap him into an endless roller coaster here.  He needs to straighten out the loops on the course before he can truly be all in. 

“I've never dumped anyone, or at least anyone who wasn't beating me up.”  Kurt reveals, a sort of revelation laced within each word. 

“This relationship would be the first one you're willingly leaving without concrete reason and you've come to a crossroads where you need to decide once and for all.  If this decision turns out to be wrong, you might lose true love forever.”

“I don't love him.”

“I mean me.  You're not sure if you should get back with me and if your decision is wrong, you know that I'll stop trying because I'll know that's what you would want from me.  What's to tell you, besides my word… which doesn't hold much validity anyway, given our track record… what's to tell you that I won't up and leave again?”

“There is nothing telling me that.”

“I would have hoped your heart was telling you to trust me.  If you don't trust me, if this whole thing-”

“Blaine.”

“If this whole thing, this whole… what did you call it?  This reconciliation of ours, if it's been just you leading me on, Kurt.  That's really fucked up and I'm not sure I can recover from losing you twice.”  Blaine pauses; he's clearly trying to keep his composure as he ignores his shaking hands.  “Although it was my decision the first time, the second time is going to hurt even more because I had so much more confidence in us this time.”

“I'm not leading you on.”

“What are you doing, Kurt?  What is it that you want from me, then?  Do you want me to sit in the corner and wait more until you figure it out?  What is there to figure out?  What are you working on?  Please, let me help you get to the place where you can open your heart completely to me again.  I won't survive this, I swear to God baby, I won't.”

Kurt reaches out for him but he pulls away, crossing the room and staring out the window.

“Blaine.”

“What do you want with me, pretty?”

Kurt sits on the bed and throws his head into his hands.  He focuses on his breathing pattern, on keeping himself steady and calm.  He knows he wants everything with Blaine, and that he's only resisting to protect everyone involved from a second, more disastrous ending that is not inevitable, but may be likely.  Given the fact that Blaine has taken to this moment to remind him of his ratio of survival should they sever their ties for a second time, Kurt needs a minute to really mull this over and make a decision he won't back out on.  He looks back at Blaine, eyes shining in the light bouncing off the top of the curtain. 

Blaine crosses the room and rushes down the hall, back into the presence of Santana and Willa.  Kurt's legs naturally move without his brain telling them to and he follows him like a kitten into the common area of the house.  He stares from the doorway as Santana smiles at Blaine sadly.  He stares as Willa rises to pour him a cup of cocoa, as she puts it in front of Blaine, already sitting at the table.  They sip together and talk quietly amongst themselves and Kurt's heart breaks at the face Blaine makes when she says, “Are you two okay?”

“Blaine.”  Kurt squeaks.  “I want everything with you.”  It's such a risk; an end would unquestionably break them both beyond the point of repair and Kurt knows that.  He also knows that he would always wonder what if should he turn Blaine down again.

Santana, Willa, and Blaine all turn to stare at him and he feels like he's a zoo animal being watched carefully for his next attack.  Blaine puts his mug down as Kurt situates himself next to him, snuggling in to rest his head on Blaine's chest.

“So why does this feel like we're done here?”

“I'm ridding myself, before your eyes, of the scared little school boy who hides behind his coffee shops.  I'm a risk taker again, Blaine.  My first risk was you.  My last risk will be you and I'll be fucking damned if it all doesn't work out after the effort we've both put into this.  Right?  Tell me I'm right and that you still want to be with me, even though I'm positively crazy and I give you heart attacks left and right because I always second guess and I'm never sure.”

“I love you, pretty.  Loose screws and all.”  Blaine and his sparkle-capris tackle Kurt so he's pinned against the arm of the couch and he simply lies on top of him.  “The most intelligent people in the world were never satisfied.  Einstein, Shakespeare, Lady Gaga, Kurt Hummel… but for the record, you are not allowed to scare me like that.  I could have sworn I was losing you to some crooked-toothed, smelly British dude who licks too much during kissing.”

Santana chimes in.  “That's fucking disgusting.” 

“He seems like a licker, the little fuck.”  Willa nods.

Kurt chokes on his laugh.  “I don't know how to get rid of him, you guys.”

Blaine pushes himself up and off of Kurt's body.  “I think that when the time is right, you'll know and you'll just have to bite the bullet.  No one else can do this for you, because you say that you want me forever and all of that, but you won't really make the decision until you let go of him.  Do you understand that?”

“Yeah.  God, I've never been in this situation before.  He loves me almost in the way you love me, I think.  Except he doesn't get the second chance because I'm being selfish and leaving him for the man I love back.”

“How is that selfish, baby?  That's taking care of yourself.”  Blaine takes his hand.  “I wouldn't have fought so hard for you to let me love you for all of these months if I didn't love myself.  You made me love myself, Kurt.  It's the least I can do to love you, too.”

“Oh, B.  I love you too.  Thank you for always sticking through the moments of weakness.”

“We started this whole thing on moments of weakness.  It's what we do best.”

“I'm such an idiot for ever doubting you.”

“You're not; you're human.”

“Yeah.”

Blaine bumps his shoulder and they attach again until they are infused as one, reveling in each other's touch and gaze.  Blaine gets off of him after a few minutes and reaches for Kurt's cup of hot cocoa, handing it to him carefully as he sits up. 

“So, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Blaine kicks at Kurt's leg playfully, “I'm totally keeping these sweatpants, Stripper.”