Chapter 7

Three days later, Kurt came home to an empty loft. Blaine had texted that he had one last errand to run, and to not hold dinner for him. Kurt dropped his bag on the floor by the couch, pausing a moment to slink out of his jacket and kick off his boots. It was a cold, gray day— sleeting on and off the entire commute home. Some hot soup would be just the thing to take the chill out of his bones, he thought, and made his way into the kitchen to see what they had on hand.

Kurt was curled up on the couch, reading for his drama class assignment when Blaine finally made it home around 10:30.

"Hi sweetie!" Kurt called out. "I left some minestrone on the stove for you, but its been long enough we'll have to heat it up now. Oh, and there's crackers on the counter if you want."

"Thanks,"Blaine mumbled, fatigue evident in both his voice and body language as he toed off his wet shoes.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, concerned, laying his book aside. "Was your errand successful?"

"I'm fine. Today has just been... a day." Blaine said wearily. "And yes, my errand was successful." He walked over to where Kurt sat and pulled out a pile of cash from his inside coat pocket, offering it to Kurt. "I got the rent money— but I may need to borrow a little from you for my share of the groceries next week."

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed, sitting up straight as he took the money. "This is FANTASTIC news! How did you manage it? And... why are you looking so down?"

"Its a long story," Blaine sighed, distracted as he slipped off his coat and reached in the pocket to pull his damp gloves out. A small, white card fell to the floor, landing face down in front of the couch as he turned to go back to the coat rack. "I hope you're not too disappointed in me."

Puzzled, Kurt picked up the white card and flipped it over to read as Blaine started to hang up his things.Pegasus Films. "Blaine," he said cautiously and held the card up, "what is this?"

"What is what?"

"This card that fell out of your pocket."

Blaine squinted at it from across the room. "Oh, that," he said, recognizing the card. "I ran into Peter Johnson on campus yesterday and he made me another offer. Said they were filming a 'project' today and could get me in if I was interested." He unwound the scarf from around his neck and reached up to loop it next to his coat.

Kurt looked at the card again, then looked at the cash Blaine had given him, eyes widening in alarm. "Blaine! You DIDN'T!"

Blaine swiveled to face Kurt again, bewildered at the sudden outburst. "I didn't what?"

Kurt held up the cash in one hand, the card in the other. "Pegasus Films? REALLY? Your pride wouldn't let you ask your dad for the money, but you could do THIS?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you hoped I 'wouldn't be too disappointed' in you for doing what you did to get the rent money, and THIS card falls out of your pocket when you get home?" Kurt fumed. "It's not that hard to put two and two together."

"W-what? You think—" Blaine sputtered, finally beginning to understand. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and marched over to Kurt, grabbing him by the wrist. "Come with me."

Kurt squawked in protest, but Blaine towed him determinedly along behind, making his way into their bedroom and finally stopping at the foot of their bed. "Sit down and listen to me," he said, releasing Kurt's wrist and gesturing to mattress. Kurt begrudgingly complied, his expression still fierce.

"You're right, I was too proud to ask my dad to bail me out, and I ended up finding a solution that I am afraid you won't be too happy about."

Kurt opened his mouth to interject, but Blaine placed a finger on his lips to silence him. He pivoted on his heel and strode to the armoire, swinging the doors open wide.

Kurt gasped. Space that had once been filled with clothes was now almost empty, save for a small stack of t-shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, and a cardigan or two in a basket. Three basic button-down shirts folded neatly on one shelf and a single tweed blazer hung lonely on the near-empty rack. He looked at Blaine, the unspoken question in his eyes.

"Sunday night, after we got home from the hospital, I laid here awake just staring at the armoire, trying to figure out what to do when it finally came to me. On Monday, I got up and started doing some research on vintage and upscale clothes resale shops around the city. This one in Williamsburg especially liked my grandpa sweaters and estate-sale bowtie collection. They said their trust-fund hipster clientele would gobble that stuff up. And I got a good price for the more current designer things at a store on the upper East Side. My earnest puppy dog eyes helped convince the buyer to throw in an extra $20 for bus fare home."

"You made all the rent money by selling your clothes?" Kurt asked in wonder.

"Well, I emptied what was left in my bank account, and also took a couple of my antique model robots to a hobby shop that specializes in toy collectables. All that combined made up the difference."

"You thought I would be upset at you for selling your clothes? Oh, Blaine, why?"

"I know you and your opinions on fashion. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be seen with someone who looked like a Goodwill store cast-off."

"Really, Blaine?"

"No, not really." Blaine said, sitting down on the end of the bed. He began to squirm under the weight of Kurt's major side-eye. "Well, maybe a little bit..."

"You idiot," Kurt said, frustrated but affectionate. "If you had actuallyaskedme, I could have told you I wouldn't mind. I love you, and would be proud to be seen out and about with you EVEN if you were wearing your smelly diner uniform."

"I did save a couple of nice outfits, for job interviews, and such," Blaine said, pointing toward the armoire again.

Kurt's gaze followed the gesture, this time noticing an item he had missed among the folded stack of clothes. He smiled. "Your yellow pants. You saved your yellow pants..."

"I know how much you like me in those," Blaine grinned.

Kurt wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. "I'm so sorry I jumped to those awful conclusions."

"I'm sorry I didn't fill you in on my plan earlier," Blaine squeezed back. "I've just been so wrapped up in my own head this week, I didn't even think about what it might look like I was doing."

"You're lucky to have me around because I know how to shop for killer deals on really great clothes," Kurt said, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder. "We'll have your armoire filled up again in no time."

"I'm lucky to have you aroundfor so many reasons— not just your impressive shopping skills, my love."

They held each other in silence for a few minutes, until Kurt pulled back to look at Blaine. "So, you're quite the wheeler-dealer now, huh?" he asked.

"Apparently so. I seem to have a bit of a knack for it."

"Good to know you have such a strong skill set we can put to good use if finances should get tight again," Kurt teased.

"I'm really glad you feel that way," Blaine said, untangling himself from Kurt's arms to stand up and stretch. "Wait until you hear how much I got on eBay for auctioning off yourDownton AbbeyDVDs—"

He bolted for the kitchen, but not fast enough to avoid a pillow sailing through the air aimed directly at his head.

"YOU HAD BETTER BE KIDDING, BLAINE ANDERSON!"