You're In My Heart
CleverBoots
Chapter 5 - Try To Blame It On The Alcohol Previous Chapter Next Chapter Story Series
Give Kudos Track Story Bookmark Comment
Report

Hearts

You're In My Heart : Chapter 5 - Try To Blame It On The Alcohol


E - Words: 2,652 - Last Updated: Sep 11, 2012
Story: Complete - Chapters: 36/36 - Created: Jul 07, 2012 - Updated: Sep 11, 2012
735 0 0 0 0


Author's Notes: This chapter is loosely based on cannon, but with my thoughts about why Kurt over reacted when Blaine thought he might be bisexual.

Life at Dalton Academy settled into a routine after a few weeks. Sure, the curriculum was more difficult, but that was a good thing where Kurt was concerned. He was grateful to have his mind occupied and challenged for once. Plus, he got to see Blaine every day. Today he stepped out of European History and waited for Blaine to catch up. This was the only class they both attended where they didn't sit together. It was such a tease, sitting three rows back and three rows over from Blaine – where he could gaze at him, but not exchange a small smile or bump his shoulder during a lecture. But it was enough.

“Blaine!”

“Kurt?”

“Well, I was wondering what you were doing Friday night?” Kurt tried to act very casual, as though this were just a random question. But the anxious look in his eyes alerted Blaine that this was something of a bit more importance.

“No plans...why? Did you have something in mind? More adventurous frozen desserts to experience?”

“Not unless you consider a daiquiri to be an adventure.”

“Oh, now you have my attention. I cannot imagine our fair-haired Kurt to have such a vise in his closet! Do tell,” Blaine kidded.

“First, I do NOT have fair hair. For your information, this is chestnut, the same color as my mother's hair.” Kurt gave him a sort of a bitch-glare, but softened because it was Blaine.

“Beg pardon. What is on the agenda for Friday night?" Blaine continued, then started humming 'Last Friday Night', which pulled a nice smile from Kurt's lips.

“Do you remember Rachel?' Kurt asked, as though anyone could forget Rachel Berry.

Blaine just nodded.

“She is having a party. Her dads are out of town and she is taking the opportunity to have a bunch of the Glee kids over.”

“I didn't know you were so friendly with her....oh! I know what this is about.” Blaine cocked his head a bit to the left, looked at Kurt's face with a softness that was so gentle. His tone dropped to a warmer place that made Kurt take a deep breath. “You miss those guys, don't you?”

Kurt blushed. He couldn't believe how quick Blaine had become in picking up on his thoughts.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” Kurt mumbled. Blaine's hand found its way into Kurt's and gave him a small squeeze of encouragement. “Not that I don't mind being at Dalton!” Kurt hurried to say, just to clarify that he wasn't unhappy to be wearing this stupid blazer or being free of the constant worry that came with attending McKinley.

“Sounds like a good time to me. Can I take you to dinner before?”

“Oh, that would be even better. Thanks, Blaine. I'll pick you up at six.”


Friday afternoon Kurt sighed as he put yet another shirt back on its hanger and stepped back to see what was left in his closet to try on. He wanted to look nice, really good enough for Blaine but not like he was trying too hard. In the end, he was back in the outfit he had decided on last Wednesday: tight fitting black dress pants, red long-sleeved shirt with a black silk tie, leather jacket. Just the right cologne....he tended to wear Aramis in the evening, just the right touch of old-fashioned elegance. He hoped Blaine would notice.

Blaine answered his door just as Kurt came up the walk. He was wearing a maroon striped shirt with a matching cashmere sweater – no bow tie tonight. But, honestly, he could be wearing a burlap sack and Kurt wouldn't have minded. Dinner was full of laughing and smiles, then off to Rachel's house.

Rachel's party was.....well, it was boring. Everyone just sat there, looking at Rachel dressed like a bridesmaid from 1975. Wow, where did she shop? Kurt was thinking of calling an emergency make-over next week. As the clock ticked away, Kurt was getting more and more embarrassed. He knew Rachel would throw a lame party, it was just her nature, and he was wondering why..why, WHY had he invited Blaine? Now Blaine would think this was how Kurt spent his time and never want to go out with him again. Kurt was just thinking of an excuse to leave, maybe salvage the night by taking Blaine to a movie? At least he might be able to hold his hand or something.

But then the night might actually end up okay....Puck showed up and broke into Rachel's dads' liquor cabinet and the booze began to flow, the lights were dimmed, music was playing and it might just be alright after all.

Finn leaned in to speak to Kurt in a low voice...asking if he was the designated driver, and Kurt confessed that he just wanted to impress Blaine. Finn nodded, looking over at Blaine, who was clearly not trying the same thing. He was quite tipsy, bordering on drunk. The thought crossed Finn's mind that the evening wouldn't end the way Kurt obviously wanted, but he couldn't do anything about it. So he sent a silent prayer up to the heavens and patted his step-brother on the back.

Like most teenage parties, there were body shots (Ewwww was all Kurt could think of that) and singing and dancing. He had never seen Rachel drunk before, and it was not a pretty sight. Time ticked by, and when there was a dull moment in the party, somebody brought out the wine bottle to play Spin the Bottle. How predictable. Kurt was thinking of a way to get Blaine to leave with a minimum of attention by the other party guests, maybe with the dim hope he could make the bottle stop at Blaine on his turn so he could get in an innocent kiss from those beautiful lips, when Rachel spun the bottle and it pointed at Blaine. Kurt's breath stopped for a second, but this was sort of expected. What was NOT expected was that Blaine seemed to be enjoying the kiss so very much. It went on for fucking ever.

The rest of the party was something of a blur. Rachel was fawning all over Blaine and Kurt's attempts to stop her were bordering on embarrassment. But it finally ended, with Kurt practically carrying Blaine out to the Navigator. Well, he was in a bit of a panic for a few minutes. Blaine was clearly too drunk to take home. How could Kurt sneak him up the stairs into his bedroom, past his parent's room, without notice. He wasn't even sure where Blaine's room was in the house, he'd never been inside. So, Kurt took Blaine's phone, found Mrs. Anderson's number, and texted her that Blaine was staying the night with friends. It was not exactly the most honest thing to do, but he thought Blaine wouldn't mind -under the circumstances.

He drove home, arriving just about the same time as Finn. Surprisingly, Finn was more than eager to help. His brother lifted Blaine into his strong arms and carried him upstairs to Kurt's bedroom, raising his eyebrows in question as to where to deposit this lump of passed-out boy. Kurt thought for a moment and nodded toward the bed. He could always make up the small sofa to sleep on tonight. Together he and Finn removed Blaine's shoes, then there was a quick trip to the bathroom while Blaine threw up a lot of the alcohol, and Finn finally just picked him up and put him back to bed. He reached over and squeezed Kurt's shoulder in sympathy, murmured an “It'll be okay”, and went back down the hallway to his own bed.

The next morning, Kurt was up early, thankful he hadn't had anything to drink other than soda, and sat on the sofa watching Blaine sleep. During the night, the gel in his hair had rubbed off on the pillowcase (well, THAT would need laundering) and Blaine's tousled curls appeared. Kurt just sighed and sort of daydreamed about waking up in the same bed with Blaine one day. Then he sighed and went to do his morning skin care routine before he wanted to wake the sleeping boy in his bed.

After his dad walked in and found Blaine asleep in his bed, he wanted to explain that he had slept on the sofa, nothing had gone on, but Burt turned and left the room in practically a run, and Kurt was reluctant to confront him with Blaine still here. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close as Burt left for the garage. Kurt waited for Blaine to wake up, took him up some orange juice and toast, then drove him back to his house with a promise to meet for coffee the next morning.

The coffee meeting did not go well. First of all, Kurt was very nervous. He was infatuated with Blaine, but so unsure of how those feeling were returned, or what was on Blaine's mind. It was going okay until Blaine got a call from Rachel. Asking for a date! What?? But..Blaine was gay. Why would he want to go on a date with the likes of Rachel Berry?

The conversation following that call was something Kurt never wanted to think about, ever again. It was like his world was crumbling. He had no time to plan what to say, didn't filter the words between their conception in his brain and their birth out of his mouth.

“Bisexual is a term that gay guys in high school use when they want to hold hands with girls and feel like a normal person for a change,” Kurt whisper-shouted at Blaine, his hands trembling.

At Blaine's statement that he was still trying to find out what his feelings were, that he may not be as sure of his sexuality as Kurt was....Kurt's already anxious mind went into panic overdrive. His hands were sweating, his heart was racing, and not in a good way. Those damning words that could not be caught in mid-air after he flung them at Blaine's head...those words that had not been thought out... had just appeared on his lips. Now maybe he had chased away the only boy he had ever thought might be the ONE.

Blaine got up, leaving his full coffee cup on the table. “I'd say 'bye', but I wouldn't want to make you mad.” He walked away, leaving a devastated Kurt behind.



In Kurt's room , later that night, he tried to analyze the whole situation, but kept coming up blank. Where, exactly, did it all go wrong? He knew Rachel. He thought he knew Blaine. Why hadn't he just let them do whatever they thought was right and wait for the eventual crash? Those two would never get along long enough for it to matter.

Why was he so terrified? It made no sense. He needed to talk this out with someone. He picked up his phone.

“Mercedes?”

“What's wrong, Kurt? You sound upset.”

“Just...just....can you come over?”

“On my way, sweetheart.”

Mercedes walked into the house, listening to see where Kurt might be, but it was dead quiet. It was too cold to be in the tree house, so she went up to his room.

There he was, curled into a small ball in the corner of his bed. She took off her shoes and her coat and climbed up on the bed, slowly so as not to startle him, and pulled him into her arms. He closed his eyes and cuddled into her soft warmth. His Mercedes was like balm to his frazzled soul. She would make it okay. She always knew how to do that. He heaved a huge sigh and looked up at her.

“Oh, Mercy. What happened? I just don't understand.”

“Well, let's start at the beginning and unravel it all.”

“I knew you would be here for me.” Kurt sighed. And proceeded to tell her what happened at the party. She was there, so she saw some of it, but she had also been a bit worse for the drink and had spent most of the party in a corner with Tina and Mike, giggling. He went on to relate the coffee meeting...with all his fears about Rachel, ending with his scathing remark about bisexuality to Blaine before he stormed out.

“Kurt. I know how you must have felt, but that was a bit..ah, abrupt, wasn't it? I thought you would be more compassionate about talking to someone who was just trying to make sense of who he is.”

“I know...it was like somebody else was there in my body. It was like I was hearing this other person speak, but with my voice.” Kurt's brows knit on his forehead in consternation. “I don't understand. How could someone know they are gay one day, but not know the next? What's wrong with him?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“It's like....well, you are or you're not. It's like you know if you are black or white. You're born a certain way, how could he not know?”

“Kurt.” Wow, how could she say this to him? He was looking up at her with those bright blue-green eyes, looking so confused, so lost. She hugged him, not knowing what to say.

“Mercedes, help me. You've met Blaine. He is gay. His whole person exudes gay. How could he be questioning it now?

“Kurt. You were at that stage once. I know you are more mature than a lot of people our age, you had to grow up a lot quicker than most of us. But you went through that, too. It's just a little later for Blaine. Maybe you need to be there for him. This has to be hard for him, especially if you were being so judgemental.”

“Judgemental? “

“Yes. You were in his shoes once.” she admonished.

“Me? No, I've always known who I was. Hell, my dad knew who I was at the age of three!” he practically shouted.

Mercedes looked at Kurt's face, seeing the incomprehension there. Oh, no. She brought her hand to her heart. Tears came into her eyes. She turned her head, trying desperately to decide, did she need to bring up that incident, had he erased it from his mind so completely?

She didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt. As always, Mercedes was not a selfish girl, and this was her best friend. She knew it might be hard, but he needed to remember so he might mend the rift between himself and the boy he loved. Didn't her mother always say it was better to be kind than to be right? She took a great breath and turned to look directly into those sparkling eyes.

“Kurt? Do you remember Thanksgiving of 2009? The year your dad had the flu and you spent the night at my house. In my bed.” And she saw the memory coming back in a crashing wave and hit him.

“Oh......my.......stars.” he said, jumping away from her on the bed, scratching and crawling to get away to the far side of the bed as quickly as possible, then to get out the door. To run. Anywhere as long as it was away from Mercedes. But Mercy was quick, seeing what was happening.

 She had spent half of her life in the company of this boy, and she knew where he was headed. As soon as he was out the door, running in his stocking feet and white sleeveless t-shirt, banging shut the back door as he ran into the snow on the ground. Mercedes picked up the wool blanket from his bed, put on her coat. She stopped in the kitchen and got a thermos of coffee and headed out to climb the ladder to the tree house. This was going to be a long evening.

End Notes: I would love some sort of feedback. This is my first story on this website, so some positive criticism or really anything might be good. I would really appreciate anything!

Comments

You must be logged in to add a comment. Log in here.