If I Die Young
BlowtheCandlesOut
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If I Die Young: Chapter 14


M - Words: 5,403 - Last Updated: May 07, 2012
Story: Complete - Chapters: 38/38 - Created: Jul 28, 2011 - Updated: May 07, 2012
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Chapter 14

Trip nodded absently toward Kurt. If Kurt had known it would be the most civil thing Trip would do for the entirety of his visit, he might have appreciated the gesture a little more. Instead he raised and dropped his eyebrows in his own half-hearted attempt at a greeting.

"Are you gonna let me in or what?" Trip stuffed his hands in his pockets as his eyes moved back to Blaine, "And wipe that stupid grin off your face, you smug bastard."

Blaine stepped aside quickly, still grinning blissfully, "I was beginning to think you weren't coming to Ohio anymore."

"Yeah, well, mommy was gonna ship me off somewhere no matter what, so here I am," Trip stepped into the house and kicked the door shut with the heel of a too well-worn red Converse, "Here, I brought you something."

Trip pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed something to Blaine. Blaine missed it entirely and stared down at it on the ground curiously, "What's this?"

"It's a fucking puppy," Trip rolled his eyes, "What's it look like?"

Blaine stooped down and picked up the little pink package. Bubblegum. Another smile spread out across his face, "You remembered."

"You smelled like that shit the entire time you were in Weston," Trip cracked his knuckles idly; eyeing the foyer, "Made it kind of hard to forget."

Blaine chuckled, "Thank you."

Trip's eyes shifted to Kurt, a grin playing across his mouth again so that Kurt couldn't take his eyes off the lip ring on the right side of his mouth; it gleamed silver as he spoke, "Blaine loves bubblegum."

"I'm aware," Kurt scanned Trip again. His hair, though a pretty color, was too long; his jacket was faded and in almost as bad of condition as his shoes, and his jeans—well, okay, tight dark denim was a good look on him, but Kurt decided it best to ignore that little detail; he didn't need anything else about Trip Morgan to fluster him with those eyes turning his cheeks red with every glance.

Trip's gaze lingered on Kurt a moment longer and then he looked back to Blaine, "I had to make a stop just to get that shit for you, Anderson."

"You sure the trip wasn't just for a pack of cigarettes and gum happens to be housed at the counter, too?" Blaine quirked an eyebrow and then added, "Watch your language; there are little girls in the house."

"Oh, I think Kurt's heard a foul word or two before," Trip winked at Kurt.

"Play nice," Blaine elbowed Trip lightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm being nothing but friendly."

"I'd hate to meet you on a day you were feeling less than civil," Kurt rested a hand on his hip and fixed Trip with another look. He decided he didn't like boys with pretty eyes and lip rings who gave gum to his boyfriend.

"Maybe some other time," Trip winked again. Why did he have to keep fucking winking?

Blaine glanced toward the family room where they could hear women's voices filtering from, but then glanced back toward the stairs, "My room?"

"Who said I was staying?"

"Me," Blaine gave Trip a light shove in the back toward the steps, "and I have cancer, so it's best to try and accommodate me."

"I'd offer to punch your little self-pitying cancer patient face in for trying to tell me what to do, but it looks like someone already beat me to it." Trip turned to eye Blaine's forehead as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, the coffee table," Blaine touched his fingers tenderly to the spot with a sheepish smile.

Trip snorted, "Dancing?"

"Hide and seek," Blaine corrected. He settled down on top of the mussed comforter and when Kurt sat down beside him, he brushed his thumb over the top of his hand almost imperceptibly.

Though small, Trip noted the gesture immediately; his eyes flitted from their hands to their faces, "Did you bring me up here for a threesome?"

Kurt flushed red, "Oh my God."

"In your dreams, Morgan," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Most likely," Trip plopped down in Blaine's desk chair and propped his feet on the edge of the bed. He looked around the room thoughtfully.

"When'd you get to Ohio?" Blaine prompted.

"A couple weeks ago. School wasn't out until the start of June out my way," Trip was still taking in the room; his eyes moving from the closet to the dresser to the desk, "but now here I am."

"Here you are," Blaine shook his head and smiled to himself. Kurt knew that smile. It was Blaine's I'm-so-fucking-pleased-with-myself smile.

"So when'd your whole life get turned ass up?" Trip motioned a hand to the scattering of prescription bottles.

"Graduation," Blaine met Kurt's eyes questioningly, "Like…a month ago?"

Kurt nodded his head. It had been forty-one days exactly—he'd marked his calendar—but he didn't share that with them.

Trip's gaze drifted down to Blaine's hand in his lap; he nodded toward it, "Is that from it too, or are you just suddenly weirdly twitchy?"

Normally, any attention to his hand had Blaine immediately tucking it away—folded under his arm; buried in his pocket; burrowed in his lap under the table—anywhere it could remain unseen. Kurt was surprised when Blaine held out his hand for Trip to inspect even closer, "No, it's a cancer thing. The doctor doesn't know why it won't stop."

Kurt was surprised again when Trip dropped his feet down to the floor and scooted forward to take Blaine's wrist almost tenderly in a gentle hold. He turned his hand from side to side; studying it grimly, "Doctors never know shit."

"Lets hope that's not the case," Kurt touched a hand to Blaine's leg, and Blaine gave him an almost reassuring smile.

"We'll see I guess," Trip let go of Blaine's hand and moved his feet back up to the edge of the bed. Kurt wrinkled his nose at the dirty undersides of his shoes so near his knee.

"How've you been, Trip?" Blaine spoke gently as he tucked his hand back into his lap.

"I'm all in one piece and I'm here, aren't I?" Trip motioned a hand down the length of his body.

"The lip thing is new," Blaine nodded toward Trip's mouth.

"Is not." Trip gave him a concerned frown.

"Don't try to fuck with me just because I have a brain tumor. My long term memory has been fine." Blaine made a face at him.

Trip laughed, "All right, yeah, it's new. What are you, my dad? What's it to you?"

"Dalton won't like it."

"Dalton can kiss my ass."

"No Dalton means no Warblers," Blaine smiled a little, "And you can pretend to be as much of an asshole as you want, but I know you want the Warblers."

"The Warblers want me," Trip snapped back.

"The Warblers have never even heard you sing," Kurt said coolly, but then he regretted speaking because Trip's eyes were back on his, and he could feel his cheeks turning hot.

Blaine noted the coloring in Kurt's cheeks with a grin, "Don't stare at him like that, Trip. He's got a thing for nice eyes and yours are unnerving him."

"Blaine!" Kurt snapped his head up to look at Blaine with mortification, "Filter!"

"Sorry," Blaine shrugged, apparently not feeling all that remorseful.

Trip tilted his head, his gaze still fully on Kurt, "I'll add eye fucking to my list Things to do with Blaine's Boyfriend list."

"Don't even think about it," Blaine scooted in closer to Kurt until their sides were touching.

"How exactly did you two meet again?" Kurt snapped, still trying to avoid meeting Trip's gaze.

"Elaine knows his mom from like yoga class or book club or something…" Blaine looked to Trip for confirmation.

"Church," Trip corrected, "They probably do other shit together too, but church is where they do their big talking. Two dollar fundraiser donuts and lukewarm coffee after mass are apparently the grounds for some very stimulating conversation."

Blaine nodded and continued, "Sometime last summer they had a chat about Dalton being a good school and me going to Dalton, and then they introduced us when I went out East for winter break."

Trip inspected his fingernails idly, "During which time we braided each other's hair and gossiped about boys and glitter and rainbows and had sleepovers every single night."

"That pretty much covers it," Blaine shrugged.

"Why Dalton, Trip?" Kurt looked him over, "It doesn't exactly seem like your ideal choice in school."

Trip folded his arms across his chest and fixed his eyes on Kurt's, "And what exactly do you know about me, Hummel, that makes you think you can deduce what kind of school I might like to attend?"

"Just a gut feeling," Kurt broke eye contact and turned his attention to Trip's shoes again. There was a hole forming in the canvas of the left one near the toe.

"The Warblers," Blaine answered for him, his gaze steady on Trip's face, "He wants to sing."

Trip grunted in response, but he didn't deny the claim. He turned his gaze to the nightstand and lifted a book and a stack of pamphlets Kurt hadn't noticed from atop the usual pile of old magazines. Trip quirked an eyebrow and fanned out the papers for Blaine to see, "A little light reading, Blaine?"

Blaine laughed and rolled his eyes, "My grandma's been surreptitiously dropping off things in my room since Sunday."

Kurt leaned forward and plucked one of the leaflets gingerly from Trip's hand, "Homosexuals Anonymous?"

"Homosexuals Anonymous," Blaine nodded gravely, "I'm through step one."

Kurt frowned as he turned the thing over in his hands. He found the list of steps and skimmed through them, "You've admitted you're powerless to your homosexual desires and that your feelings are unmanageable?"

"It's true," Blaine sighed, "All I want is gay sex. Lots and lots of gay sex."

Kurt clamped a hand over his mouth when a giggle escaped his lips. He glanced in Trip's direction, dreading his reaction. Trip, much to Kurt's relief, was still engrossed with a brochure spread out across his knees, "This is a camp for gay kids to 'recover'. They actually have those."

"So I've read," Blaine stretched out across the bed and tucked his pillow under his head. He smiled sleepily at Kurt, "Wanna go to gay camp with me? Roast marshmallows? Go hiking? Pitch tents?"

"The only tents those kids are pitching are in their pants," Trip turned the pamphlet for them to see and pointed to a picture, "I bet they just secretly gang bang each other every fucking night."

"Can we not joke about this? It's not funny," Kurt folded up the paper on his lap and dropped it in the trashcan beside the bed, "It's terrible."

Trip ignored him and rapped his knuckles across the larger book in the stack, "Desires In Conflict. Sounds like a great read. Real page turner I bet."

"Kurt's right, Trip," Blaine rubbed his eyes, "Don't joke."

"Do your parents know she's leaving you all this stuff?" Kurt scowled at Trip when he held out the book toward him.

"No," Blaine tucked his hand behind his head.

"Couldn't you just have a little tumor slip up and say something?" Trip dropped the book into the trash with Kurt's pamphlet. When he spoke again, his voice sounded uncannily like Blaine's, "Could someone pass the salt and oh by the way, Mom, Grandma's got a hidden agenda to turn me straight before she flies back home?"

Blaine let out a breathy laugh, "She's not trying to be cruel. She really thinks she's being helpful."

Trip snorted and fished a hand into his pocket. When he pulled it back out, he had a pack of cigarettes caught between his fingers.

"Nuh-uh, not in here," Blaine sat up quickly, "My mom will have you shot on the spot."

"Not to mention the fact that those things will completely mess with your singing," Kurt wrinkled his nose at the cigarette already stuck in Trip's mouth.

"Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting." Trip dropped his feet to the floor with a thump and pushed himself out of the chair, "You're almost completely impossible to get along with."

"And you're so amiable," Blaine rolled his eyes and motioned a hand toward the door, "Take it outside, and don't let my mom or Elaine see you. They'll throw a fit."

Trip saluted them and disappeared out the door, his shoes making every step creak as he jogged down toward the entryway.

As soon as he heard the front door slam shut, Kurt turned this attention to Blaine, "Okay, Blaine, I know you can be a little oblivious and I know you're a social person, but you have got to be kidding me."

Blaine laughed and groaned almost simultaneously, "I knew you two would clash."

"Blaine," Kurt snapped.

"What?" Blaine was still smiling innocently but then he sighed, "All right, I'll admit that Trip can be a little abrasive."

"A little?" Kurt gave Blaine a withering look.

"Okay, he can be a lot abrasive, but he's a good guy under all that," Blaine looked at the empty desk chair almost fondly.

"In the twenty minutes he's been here he's called me a girl, suggested we sleep with him, tried to smoke in your house, and his expletives outnumber his regular vocab use about three to one," Kurt checked the knee of his pants to ensure Trip's grimy shoe hadn't somehow left a mark he could have missed earlier, "Not every stray you find is looking for someone to fix them, Blaine."

"I'm not trying to fix him; I'm just trying to be his friend. He needs friends," Blaine nodded assuredly to himself, "He's had a rough time, Kurt, he's just…guarded."

"He seems pretty open to me." Kurt grumbled.

"It's an act. You and I of all people should be able to understand what it is to put up a mask when the world gets scary," Blaine reached toward Kurt and secured his hand in his, "Just give him a chance. For me."

Kurt met Blaine's hopeful gaze and sighed, "Fine. For you."

Blaine leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "Thank you."

"So what's his deal then?" Kurt scooted closer to Blaine and rested his head on his shoulder.

"If you put in a little effort with him, he'll tell you himself," Blaine traced his fingers down Kurt's back, "But it's not my place to be spilling his personal stuff all over."

"I hate when you're a good person," Kurt muttered but then sighed contentedly at the feel of Blaine's hand rubbing slowly down his back.

"Christ, you're tense," Blaine shifted himself behind Kurt and used both his hands on either side of his spine to work at the knotted muscles between his shoulder blades.

Kurt hissed at the aching spasms of his muscles as Blaine worked the knots free, but it felt so wonderful at the same time he could have moaned for pleasure, "Mm."

Blaine worked quietly for a few more minutes, "You've been stressed."

"I'm fine," Kurt groaned when a particularly awful spot ached so deeply beneath Blaine's hand it almost made his stomach hurt.

"Kurt," Blaine's hands paused, "We spend so much time talking about me… we never talk about you anymore."

"Nothing to say about me," Kurt pressed back against Blaine's hands in hopes it might prompt him to keep rubbing his aching muscles.

Blaine took the hint and pressed the heel of his hand into Kurt's back, but he wasn't done talking, "You love to talk about you."

"That doesn't make me sound conceited at all," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"It's not a bad thing," Blaine dragged his hand down Kurt's back slowly, "I like talking about you, too, so why don't we anymore?"

Kurt found himself looking at the door hoping for Trip to return, when he didn't, he knew he'd have to answer, "…We're together all the time, Blaine, your world is my world right now; you see everything that goes on with me."

Blaine had reached the small of Kurt's back. He moved his hands back to his shoulders and rubbed up to his neck; his fingers threading into the short hairs on the back of his head, "You really expect me to buy that?"

"What do you suppose I'm doing between like seven and nine in the morning when we're not together?" Kurt felt Blaine's fingers press higher into his hair—a move that in the past would have sent him into a tantrum over having the perfect styling ruined, but Blaine had taken a liking to touching Kurt's hair; tracing a thumb over the line of it just above his ear; weaving his fingers into it when Kurt snuggled close—he allowed the intrusion patiently.

"You are an entire ocean of secrets in that head of yours," Blaine's hands slipped from his hair to rub down his biceps.

"Makes me sort of sexy mysterious, doesn't it?" Kurt closed his eyes; his whole body felt half-melted and he longed to be back in the positions they'd been in earlier—Blaine's nails pressing into the skin of his back and his own hand down Blaine's pants; mouths locked together with no hope for all these words and all these conversations he didn't want to have to partake in ever escaping their lips.

Blaine laughed quietly somewhere near his ear; wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle, "You'd be just as sexy without the mysterious aspect."

"I've told you like ten thousand times today that there's nothing bothering me, so stop worrying," Kurt leaned back into Blaine's chest, "It's bad for your health."

"And it's good for yours to drop your entire life to play my bedside nurse?"

"I like playing nurse with you," Kurt smiled and then added for good measure, "And I didn't drop my life. I have a coffee date with Quinn soon."

Blaine sighed, "Kurt—"

The sound of the front door slamming shut again brought both of their attention back to Blaine's bedroom door. A minute later, Trip reappeared; he surveyed them from the doorway mildly, "Am I interrupting something?"

Blaine squeezed his arms around Kurt one more time before sliding away from him, "No, we're good."

When Trip walked further into the room, the smell of smoke seeped from his body, sharper and brighter than before—Kurt could practically see tendrils of it weaving out of his shirt; his hair.

"Nasty habit, Trip," Blaine flexed his hand out once; twice, "You really should quit. They won't let you do that at Dal—"

"You aren't making Dalton sound nearly as appealing as you did back in Maryland." Trip cut him off impatiently.

"It's a good school and they'll be good to you if you stay in line," Blaine shrugged.

"Because staying in line has always come so naturally to me," Trip smiled; amused with himself, "You were a happy little blazer-donning songbird once too, weren't you, Kurt?"

"Yes, for awhile," For the sake of a reach toward friendliness he added, "It's where I met Blaine."

"Aw gee, was it love at first sight?" Trip batted his eyelashes and clasped his hands by his face.

You told Blaine you'd try. Kurt gritted his teeth for a moment before answering, "Not exactly."

"It took me awhile to get my head out of my ass," Blaine nudged Kurt with his knee and smiled.

Trip made a gagging sound, "Spare me the happily ever after bullshit, please."

Blaine turned an amused smile to Kurt, "Trip doesn't believe in love."

"A jaded teenager who thinks love doesn't exist," Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes, "How original."

"And you: the gay, perfectly groomed, ever-fashionable sassy diva," Trip eyed Kurt disdainfully, "I might be unoriginal, but you, friend, are just a downright cliché. And Blaine, don't even get me started on you and your goddamn optimism."

"Sorry for being happy," Blaine smiled thoughtfully, "Who knows, Trip, maybe you'll meet someone at Dalton who'll turn you all heels over head."

"I doubt that," Trip pulled a lighter from his pocket. The little flame appeared at the top then disappeared again as he slid his thumb over the button, "And the expression is 'head over heels', idiot."

Blaine ignored the insult, "There's some good people here, Trip; I told you that before."

A quick look of irritation passed over Trip's face, but then, just as quickly, he was smirking, "People like you?"

"Maybe not that great," Blaine winked at Kurt, "But I bet if you—"

Trip frowned at Blaine and lowered the lighter into his lap, "If I what?"

"Uh…" Blaine closed his eyes as he thought.

"Take your time," Kurt advised gently when he noted Blaine's hands curling into tight fists in his lap.

"This is like the tenth fucking time today." Blaine snapped; scrunching his eyes shut even tighter.

"You've only had an issue once since I got here."

"Yeah, well you haven't been here all that long, have you?" Blaine snapped. He let out an irritated sigh and opened his eyes, "I don't remember what I was even saying."

"You were encouraging me to spread my little wings and meet new people," Trip was watching him with something akin to wonder.

Blaine nodded but didn't say anything else.

Trip crossed his legs in his chair and studied Blaine curiously, "That happens a lot? You just forget what you're saying?"

Blaine jerked his head down once. Yes it happened a lot.

"He doesn't forget what he's saying," Kurt corrected; he wondered if it would be all right for him to hold Blaine's hand or if it would be greeted with hostility. He decided he didn't want to risk it, "It's like he has the word in his head but it won't connect to his mouth."

"I forget sometimes, too." Blaine sighed, sounding more resigned than irritated now.

Kurt frowned at him, "But I thought after graduation you said—"

"That was just that song, and most of the time it is just a connection problem," Blaine pulled the little yellow ball off his bedside table and worked it slowly between his fingers, "If I have something big I want to say, I forget what I was trying to get at sometimes."

Kurt remembered then. Walks around the block when Blaine told long rambling stories with seemingly no point to them; moments when he ended anecdotes with a lame shrug and a half-mumbled closer. It all made sense, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you'd just sort of pick up on it," Blaine shrugged and glanced up from his ball, "You didn't?"

Kurt shook his head, "No."

"Well, then the speech therapist is doing something right," Blaine squeezed his fingers tight around the ball and then loosened them again.

"So is this tumor thing still just eating away at your head then?" Trip eyed the scar across Blaine's head warily.

"No," Blaine was pressing his thumb and index finger into the ball now; lifting it and dropping it into his other opened hand, "I mean it is still there, but a bunch of this mess is from the surgery."

"I guess getting chunks hacked out of your brain kinda does that, huh?" a ghost of a smile traced over Trip's mouth and, if Kurt was being honest, he looked almost likeable like that…and if he was being reallyhonest, he was kind of completely gorgeous with that little smile. But no, Kurt wasn't feeling that totally honest; he made a face to himself and tore his eyes away.

Blaine smiled a little too, but his attention was still on the ball, now sitting on his open palm, "Guess so."

Trip was quiet for a while, but then, without warning, he reached forward and snatched the ball from Blaine's hand, "You any better at catching this than that pack of gum?"

"My 'sense of self in space' is off," Blaine watched the spasm in his hand thoughtfully.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Trip tossed the ball in the air and caught it once.

"It means I walk into doorframes, and I can't catch." Blaine gave Trip a scolding frown when he bluffed whipping the ball at Kurt, "But I'm working on it."

"What do you say we take this thing and practice your sense of self in space outside?" Trip held the ball out in front of Blaine only to snatch it away just as he made a grab for it, "I can't stand being in your house anymore. It smells like homophobia and cancer."

Blaine laughed outright, and, though Kurt found Trip offensive in every way possible, Blaine's laugh made him smile, too.

"Is that a yes?" Trip mimed whipping the ball at Kurt's face again.

"Cut it out," Kurt shoved Trip's hand away as he climbed off the bed, Blaine right behind him.

Elaine and Elizabeth were in the foyer with the baby toddling in front of them when they made it to ground level. Elaine studied Trip almost pityingly before shifting her attention to the other two boys, "Where are you off to?"

"Taking Blaine out to play fetch," Trip waved the ball in the air for them to see.

Elizabeth frowned at Trip for a moment before looking to Blaine, "Are you going to get cold without a jacket?"

"It's like eighty degrees out, Mom." Blaine looked to the window above the door where the sun was streaming in.

She didn't seem to hear him; her gaze was focused on the bruise on his forehead. She stepped closer to him; traced her fingers over the spot, "How's your head?"

"It's fine," Blaine laced his fingers around hers and gently pulled her hand away, "Really."

"I scheduled an appointment for you tomorrow… just in case." Elizabeth watched him warily as though she feared an outburst.

"'kay." Blaine shrugged.

A look of relief washed over Elizabeth's face. She touched a kiss to Blaine's forehead, "Go on and go outside then."

Once the door closed behind them, Trip chuckled, "Your mom has some serious Guilty Parent Syndrome going on right now."

"She's doing her best," Blaine gave him a look that Kurt read immediately. Do not joke about my mother.

Trip raised his hands in a quick 'I surrender' gesture and said nothing more on the subject.

Blaine flopped down in the grass the second they were in the yard and tipped his face up toward the sun, "I love summer."

"You said the same thing about winter in Maryland." Trip tugged his jacket off and tossed it up onto the porch railing.

"And you say the same thing about spring and fall," Kurt added.

"I'm Blaine and I love all of the seasons," Trip grinned blithely at the sun and threw his arms out, "In fact, I just love fucking everything—the sun and the grass—isn't this grass nice?—and that gutter over there and the clouds—oh my god the motherfucking clouds are fantastic, aren't they? And—"

Kurt couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. He didn't even try to cover it.

"Oh that's real nice," Blaine rolled his eyes and motioned a hand between Kurt and Trip, "The first time you two get along has to be at my expense. That's lovely."

Kurt sank down to his knees beside Blaine, careful not to get grass stains on his pants, "I love that you love everything so much. You're passionate, and it's charming."

"I think it's obnoxious." Trip chimed.

Kurt rolled his eyes. So much for them getting along.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Trip brushed the hair off his forehead and made a face toward the sun as though he blamed it for intentionally making him too hot.

Blaine pushed himself upright and Kurt was about to do the same when his phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen before answering, "Hey, Rachel."

"Tell her I say hi and I want her to come visit," Blaine prodded Kurt in the side to ensure his message would be delivered.

Kurt pushed his hand away, "Blaine says hi and he wants you to come visit."

"Tell him I say hi back, and I'll come with you soon to see him," Rachel's voice was quiet. Rachel was never quiet.

"She says hello and she wants to see you," Kurt murmured to Blaine.

Blaine nodded and turned his attention back to Trip who had thrown the ball at the side of his head while they talked. He whipped it back in his direction but missed him by a good foot.

"What's going on, Rachel?" Kurt stepped out of the way when the ball came careening back his direction. He kicked it lightly toward Blaine as he stepped out of the grass and onto the driveway.

"When were you planning on telling me?" Her voice was sad.

"Telling you what?" Kurt asked; confused. Finn hadn't cheated on her as far as he knew, and no one had been spreading any nasty sort of rumors that he was aware of…

She was quiet for a long minute, "You shouldn't keep yourself permanently logged into your email. You never know who might see it."

Kurt felt his stomach drop. He glanced toward where Blaine and Trip were now occupying themselves more with inflicting the most possible harm by hitting the other with the ball than with actually trying to catch it. He slipped around the other side of the house and remained silent until he was sure he was out of earshot, "Why were you on my computer?"

"I needed to check my e-mail to see if school sent me any messages," She sniffled; great, she was crying, "Kurt, that internship was everything you ever wanted."

"Well sometimes we can't have everything we want, can we?" Kurt leaned back against the cool brick of the house.

"Does Blaine know?" Rachel asked softly.

"He doesn't even know yet that his parents aren't going to let him go," Kurt closed his eyes, "No one knows."

"When were you planning on telling us? Telling me?" She sniffled again; there was no anger in her voice; just a sad note of rejection, "We're supposed to be roommates, Kurt."

"I know, I know," Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, "And I'm working on figuring that out, Rachel; I wasn't going to just let you fall on your face when you got out there. I promise, I'll get it all worked out—"

"I know you wouldn't do that to me," He wished she would just yell at him; call him out for destroying all of their plans; for potentially scuffing her dreams, but she didn't. "I'm worried about you, Kurt."

"No, no, I've got this under control," Kurt nodded before he remembered she couldn't actually see him, "I do. It's just messy right now. Give me two weeks to—"

"Kurt, I told your dad." She sounded almost repentant.

Kurt let out a groan, "Rachel."

"He needed to know, Kurt," She said; more assured now, "He's your dad."

Kurt resisted the urge to drag a hand through his hair and settled for closing his eyes tightly. He needed to find his center; if one thing slipped out of his control, everything would topple over with it. He let out a long breath, "… okay. Fine; whatever. I'll…. I'll talk to him as soon as I can."

"I'd recommend sooner rather than later, he's, um," Rachel swallowed, "He's kind of upset."

You are so lucky you're two hours away from me because otherwise I swear to God I'd shake you. Kurt gritted his teeth, "I'll leave Blaine's in a couple hours."

"I'm really sorry, Kurt." She sounded sad again; small.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed, "…me too."

He hung up, but didn't go immediately back to the front yard. He took a moment to straighten his vest; close his eyes. Finally, he took in a deep breath and let it out as he fixed a smile on his face and went back around the house.

When Kurt reached the front lawn, Trip was sitting in the grass with his weight on his hands behind him; Blaine lay splayed out beside him.

"Lost interest in trying to inflict bodily harm upon one another?" Kurt raised an eyebrow as he stared down at the other two.

"Got boring," Blaine patted the grass beside him until Kurt sat down.

"What he means is his mom came out here and told me to stop pummeling him with the ball," Trip kicked his foot once against Blaine's, "He didn't hit me once."

Blaine made a face at Trip before turning his gaze back to Kurt, "What's up with Rachel?"

"Nothing really; her usual drama," Kurt shrugged, "I'm going to have to leave a little early today though to go deal with some stuff."

Blaine pouted, "No dinner at the Hudson-Hummel house for us?"

"Not tonight," Kurt smiled apologetically; he opted not to mention that Elizabeth had already negated their dinner plans, "Soon though."

They fell quiet and listened to the sounds of the neighborhood and the tinny clink of Trip biting at his lip ring. Kurt contemplated snapping at Trip to stop, but decided his near-silence wasn't worth breaking. He did his best to ignore it by focusing his attention elsewhere. He watched a van roll past on the road out front; swerving to avoid Trip's haphazardly parked car at the curb; he listened to the sounds of children a few houses down the street whooping in excitement—probably running through the sprinkler. He could smell someone grilling somewhere in the neighborhood. He felt Blaine's hand slip into his; he squeezed it gently and enjoyed the feeling of Blaine's sun-warmed skin against his own. It was all so deliciously normal.

 

End Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who has been following (or is newly following) this story. I'm so flattered by all your kind words and reviews and it seriously just makes my day. I also want to give a ridiculously huge thank you to whoever out there recommended this story to be featured here on Scarves and Coffee; I know I sort of incessantly gush about how much I appreciate you all, but I really really can't express enough how overwhelmed I am with the fact that anyone reads anything I write, let alone takes the time to recommend it to others, so again: thank you, thank you, thank you.

Comments

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Trip...will need to grow on me. Indeed. However what really stck out for me in this chapter was just the fact that Kurt is so absolutely willing to stay with Blaine and give up his internship. My heart was breaking during that scene and I wish he didn't have to do it but of course he's going to stay with Blaine. He can't not stay with Blaine. WHY IS THIS STORY SO GOOD?

I've said it before but I'll say it again. You have such a great sense of sequence. Just as I was starting to smile at the boys antics, Rachel goes and calls Kurt and the smile just drops of my face. It's fantastic. You're great at keeping me on my toes with this. Also, about your OC's. Everyone always worries so much about making them either loveable or hateable and I love that you seem so unconcerned with that. They're very real and dynamic and sort of just 'take me as I am'. They're great.

I'm REALLY enjoying this story! And this line made me laugh out loud: "He decided he didn't like boys with pretty eyes and lip rings who gave gum to his boyfriend." :)

this story is so beautiful, you have had me in tears and that like, never happens. i had actually just been contemplating posting a prompt like this and then i saw the story and freaked out lol. but yes, so heartbreaking, so touching and intense, i cant wait for whatever's next

*sighs* this really is a wonderful story. and you are an excellent writer.

This is hear breaking! In the most perfect ways. I like Trip's contrast, how he's the only one not fussing at all around Blaine. Sounds like something Blaine needed. Now I really fear for the chapter when Kurt and Blaine talks about NY. I'm in love with this story, and it's a miracle, I think this was the first chapter I haven't cried.

Ok.. first of all i need to say this.. your writing is AMAZING, like seriously, all of the characters are so organic, nothing seems force or OCC. I literally spend the whole day reading your fics, they're awesome, and coming from someone who experience living with someone with cancer, its just so heart wrenching, but so true the way you describe everything, from moodswings to the sickness and all of that. I cant wait for the next update.

Thank you so much for a beautifully written story. And thank you also for your sweet note about my past cancer experience. I just finished reading all 14 chapters. I got tears in my eyes when New Directions and the Warblers showed up at the Treatment Center when Blaine was receiving the chemo. We called it the "Chemo Room" when I went through cancer treatment. I'm not sure what your personal experience is with cancer treatment, but you described the treatment center accurately! I tolerated chemo well, but radiation treatment was very hard on me. I can relate to Blaine being sick all the time, losing weight and not being able to keep anything down. I had to get special IV fluids to keep from getting dehydrated, and I'm wondering if Blaine is headed there. Thanks again for such a well written story. I'm looking forward to a new update!

Trip reminds me of Blaine in, "Go Your Own Way"