Chapter 4

The building seemed awfully quiet, as compared to the noise that had been filling it until less than an hour earlier. The common room was empty, apart from the three people huddled on the two worn out fake-leather sofas. Rachel drifted off to sleep with her feet in Kurt's lap. Blaine was sitting on the other sofa, with his elbow on the armrest and his chin cupped in his palm. They were talking quietly, not to wake Rachel up.

'You know, the New Directions are sort of like extended family,' Kurt was saying. 'We keep in touch, more or less. We meet when we're back in Lima for holidays, we call each other for birthdays and such.'

'That's nice, we never were that close in the Warblers.'

'Yeah, but it's all the drama that brought us together, you know? Well, and Finn, who was kind of our male lead, he actually is my family, since my dad and his mom got hitched.'

'Really?' That's so cool.'

'We were best men at the wedding, and Glee did the music, that was amazing.' Kurt smiled a little at the memory. 'And then Rachel and Finn used to be an item – and if you ask me, she's still not over him, though she pretends to be – so we're a bit like family, too. We definitely act like siblings sometimes. And we live together now. And the rest of the guys, I guess switching boyfriends and girlfriends within Glee made the bond stronger or something. There was so much drama, ugh.'

'Well, I bet it was more entertaining than the Warblers. I suppose lack of ovaries tends to render life uninteresting.'

They laughed in unison.

'So true. You couldn't have had the teen pregnancy drama, and the love triangles drama, and the teen lesbians drama. Teen gays drama is nothing in comparison, I'm sure of that.'

'Yeah, we had that last one. The rest, not so much.' He paused. 'You really had a pregnant girl in Glee?'

'That's not the best part: she went into labour in the middle of regionals.'

'For real?'

'Well, right after we got off stage, but in the middle of the competition. And then Rachel's birth mom adopted the baby. Again, family.'

'Birth mom?'

Kurt paused for a second.

'Um, since we're dishing, I guess I can tell you. Rachel has two dads. As in two gay dads. They were the first gays I've ever met, actually, apart from myself. And Shelby was their surrogate. Oh, and she used to coach Vocal Adrenaline.'

'What? Rachel's mom coached Vocal Adrenaline? The Vocal Adrenaline, the three-time national show choir champions?'

'The very same.'

'This is so amazing. I wish I went to McKinley and not lame Dalton with the blazers and all that.'

Kurt's face turned serious.

'It wasn't all rainbows and unicorns, you know.' His voice became small, uncertain and uneasy.

'I know.' A moment passed in complete silence. 'I went to a public school before I transferred to Dalton halfway through my freshman year.' Blaine's voice matched Kurt's. Suddenly they went from chit-chat and gossip to the important stuff. 'Me and a friend of mine, we went to a Sadie Hawkins dance once… together. The only two out gays in the school. Well, that didn't turn out the way we wanted it to.'

Kurt nodded in understanding.

'Yeah, I guess high school dances aren't the happiest of events for gay youth.' A bitter laugh escaped his lips. 'When I went to my junior prom, I didn't have a date, so I tagged along with a group of friends that didn't have partners either, but, um- You know, I'm pretty obvious anyway. Well, obvious enough for some people from my school to vote me Prom Queen in a secret ballot.' He grimaced. 'And that was far from being my worst high school experience,' he added in a slightly trembling, quiet voice.

Kurt's hand unconsciously went up to the vertical line on his lower lip, tracing it with shaky fingers. It didn't slip Blaine's attention.

There was so much they had in common, both the good things, and the bad.

'So,' started Kurt, 'you never got to tell me about the teen gays drama at Dalton.'

'There's not much to tell, really.'

'Oh, come on.'

'Okay… So, when I was a junior, there was this guy who transferred from San Francisco. He was also a junior.'

'Oo la la, continue.' Kurt was smiling again.

'His name was Sebastian. All the guys in the Warblers thought we should get together, because we were the only single gays in Dalton at the time. But it didn't work out. I kinda wanted it to, you know, but then… let's just say that he turned out to be an insensitive jerk.'

'Ouch.'

'Yeah,' Blaine sighed. 'But I guess I'm happy it never worked out.'

The sound of steps in the corridor interrupted their conversation. A moment later a silhouette appeared in the door.

'Oh, that's you, roomie,' came a drunken voice from the doorway.

Blaine peered in the semi-darkness, trying to check if it really was Trent.

'Already hitting on the biggest fag in the school, huh?' He laughed obnoxiously.

Blaine was seething. Kurt turned scarlet. Rachel continued to sleep, oblivious to the surroundings.

'Can't you just go?', Blaine said through clenched teeth. He was so close to losing it.

'Why, so you could make out? Oh, why do you have a girl with you? Wouldn't you prefer another guy for a threesome? You're gonna have to forgive me, I don't swing that way.' He made a disgusted face.

Blaine was already standing up, ready to throw a punch in Trent's face. Kurt grabbed his arm, shaking his head at him. It's not a good idea.

Trent chuckled, took a bottle of vodka from the counter and left, still visibly amused.

Silence pervaded for a moment.

'That's your roommate?,' asked Kurt. 'Is he always… like that?'

'You mean homophobic? No, not always. But not only when he's drunk, yes.' He covered his face with his hands.

'He's a piece of shit, don't get upset about him, he's not worth it,' said Kurt quietly, patting Blaine on the shoulder reassuringly. But he knew it wouldn't help at all. Something had to be done.

'I'll sort something out. To make him stop with this bullshit, I mean.' It was as if he was reading Kurt's mind. He raised his gaze at Kurt. 'It's good to have someone to talk to.'

Kurt smiled at him sheepishly.

'Yeah, it is.'

***

By five a.m. Blaine was in his bed, trying to ignore the massive snoring coming from the opposite side of the room, as well as its originator and his words from earlier.

He was trying to focus on the good parts of the last few hours.

He now had someone he could trust; someone who he knew would understand him.

And he now had a friend in some of his classes, who could be terribly irritating, but deep down had a kind heart.

He just had to stop himself every time his thoughts wandered to Trent and the f word. He didn't want to spoil his joy, it was too damn fleeting.

It was almost noon, when the scent of coffee reached Kurt's nose. He groaned and turned in his bed. It took him a second to remember that it was Sunday, and he didn't have to get up right away.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, he entered the kitchen, greeted by a chipper Rachel.

'Good morning,' she said, passing him a mug of steaming coffee.

'Thanks.' He took a sip. 'Why the good mood?'

'We had fun yesterday, didn't we?'

Kurt scrutinized her with his eyes, as she was putting bread into the toaster for him.

'Yes, we did. But you lost our little wager.'

She turned from the toaster to look at him.

'True, but… Well, I guess I can suffer buying you a whole cheesecake, if that means you're happy.'

He raised his eyebrows.

'What exactly are you talking about?'

Rachel seemed surprised he didn't get her drift.

'Um- You and Blaine, dummy?'

'Me and Blaine, what? There is no "me and Blaine".'

'Oh.' More bewilderment. 'Guess I can't see through you after all.'

'Rache.' Kurt sighed. 'It's not that I don't like him. I do like him. But, you know, it's not like I'm going to fling myself on a guy just because he's gay. I've already done something similar, and I don't want to make the same mistake twice.'

A moment passed in silence.

'So… you're saying Chandler was a mistake?.' Rachel asked in a small voice.

Kurt rubbed his jaw line, considering his answer.

'Okay, not exactly. I needed that then. You know, it did boost my self-esteem a little. But I never really… I could never really picture us growing old together. And I want that. I want to be able to close my eyes and see myself fifty years from now, in a rocking chair, with gray hair and the person I love by my side. I never could with Chandler. I don't know why.'

'And Blaine?'

'Gosh, Rachel, I've known the guy less than a week. Yes, he's cute. And yes, talking to him felt real nice, but it doesn't mean I'm already planning a wedding!'

The bread jumped inside the toaster. Rachel dished it out and grabbed a jar of strawberry jelly that was sitting on the counter.

'Okay, so I'm officially out of this.' She put Kurt's breakfast in front of him. 'I'm going to sit by, watching how you two get together.'

Kurt opened his mouth to tell her off, but she'd already fled into her room. He could swear she was giggling on the way.

***

Rachel fulfilled her side of the wager by buying Kurt a ridiculously large piece of cheesecake in a coffee shop on 4th Avenue. He was sitting with his back to the door, gorging on his cake, and listening to Rachel's account of her day at NYADA.

But suddenly, she fell silent. Her eyes bulged, and she whipped her hand up to put it in front of her face.

'Oh my God, Kurt, don't turn. Don't look behind you. Just don't.'

He swallowed his mouthful of cheesecake.

'What? What is it again, Rachel?'

'Nothing. It's just that- YOUR. EX. IS. HERE.'

'What?'

He looked around, trying to establish who she was referring to. And then he noticed him. There was Chandler, standing in the middle of the café, with a cup of coffee in his hand, searching the room for an empty table. They were all taken.

Kurt was suddenly reminded that he had an ex-boyfriend. One he'd planned to avoid in New York. Shit. Probably going to a coffee shop this close to Parsons was not a good idea after all. Next time he'll make sure to be at least a dozen blocks from Chandler's school. Just to be on the safe side.

Before he could turn back around, Chandler's eyes fell on him and his wide-eyed friend. His lips stretched into a smile, when he started towards them in a springy step.

'Oh my, who do my eyes see?,' he crooned, approaching them. 'Kurt Hummel, as I live and breathe.'

Kurt put on his most pleasant smile and faced his ex-boyfriend.

'Chandler. Wow, New York seems to be small after all.' Just when I decided to avoid you.

'Yes, it does! What a happy coincidence!' Chandler eyed the empty chair at their table. 'May I?'

Rachel was shaking her head infinitesimally, trying to get Kurt to answer in the negative. But his manners took the best of him.

'Yeah… sure.'

He sent her a scolding look. Rachel made an angry face, just to replace it with an innocent and pleasant expression a second later, turning to Chandler.

'So, Chandler,' she started. 'How's Parsons?'

'It's fine, thank you, Rachel. But I'm still getting accustomed I suppose. Oh, wait, how's NYADA?! I almost forgot you finally got in this year!'

Rachel pursed her lips before answering.

'Oh, it's fine, thank you. I was so sorry to hear NYU rejected you again.' She shot him the most impeccant smile she could muster.

She and Chandler never got along very well; Rachel hated how patronizing he sometimes got, or how affected he usually was. Kurt's mannerisms were an entirely different matter; they were just a part of who he was, there was nothing rehearsed or staged about them. But to Rachel, Chandler's demeanour had always made the impression of being studied from start to finish.

The conversation continued with Kurt mostly staying out of it, chewing his cheesecake and sipping his coffee very, very slowly, and Rachel and Chandler taunting each other with snippy comments.

'Oh, and how's your step-brother, Kurt?', asked Chandler, trying to get away from Rachel's acerbity. 'Wasn't he leaving for somewhere in the summer?'

'Yes, Afghanistan. He's in an supply unit. In the Army, I mean.'

'Well, Chandler, you could have asked me about Finn,' said Rachel sweetly. 'Let Kurt eat his cake.'

Kurt groaned internally. This was worse than he'd imagined it could be. His plan for the future was now mostly to keep Rachel and Chandler as far away from each other as possible.

'Um- I got to run, guys, so… Enjoy your cheesecake, Kurt.' Chandler flashed him his signature smile. 'Rachel. Well, see you sometime.'

When the glass door in the far end of the coffee shop closed behind Chandler, Kurt could finally make a comment on the situation. It was very short.

'Rachel.'

***

Blaine couldn't shake the feeling that the party triggered Trent's homophobia. Despite having been intoxicated, he seemed to remember exactly what he had said, and – most importantly – apparently saw nothing inappropriate in his words. To the contrary, he was now fonder of the gay insults than of the hair jokes.

And the former cut so much deeper than the latter.

Blaine was bottling up all his rage, attempting to find a solution to his situation. In the meantime, he spent most of his time out of the dorm, staying late at NYADA and taking walks around Central Park. Days passed with Blaine coming home just out of necessity – he did like the streets of New York, but not enough to make them his bedroom.

When he entered his room on a mid-September Friday afternoon, earlier than he usually did, Trent greeted him with a dose of his regular innate jokes.

'Oh, the fag's no longer out,' he sneered. 'Didn't get a cock to suck this time?'

That was the last straw. The rage that had been simmering within Blaine for a week finally boiled over.

'What the fuck is your problem with me?!' He grabbed Trent's shirt with his right hand, his left ready to throw a punch.

'I don't have problem with you, I have a problem with all of you fags.'

Blaine's whole body shook with fury. He collected himself enough to respond.

'Then you have a problem with me. You have to lose that hateful crap, or I can't vouch for myself.'

'And what would you do to me, cissy? Fuck me in the ass? Suck my dick? Because that tiny little fist- I probably wouldn't even feel it.'

Blaine was breathing heavily, desperately trying to keep cool. But it had been too much. And it would go on, for as long as he'd let it. He couldn't let it. He had to do something.

'Try me.'

And his dexterous fist cut the air with a swish, and landed heavily on Trent's right cheek.

Blaine let go of him, and Trent fell back to his bed, flabbergasted, gasping and touching his face in astonishment.

Blaine rubbed his knuckles. The only thing he usually punched was a punchbag, but this gave him a sense of power. He closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the control he had over his bully. This one time he stood up to someone who was taunting him.

'I take it you did feel my tiny little fist after all,' he said in a matter-of-fact tone. 'And I swear, if you don't cut the crap, you will feel it again.'

If there was a response, he didn't hear it, he was already out the door.

***

He wasn't thinking. His legs carried him without any cooperation with his brain; one foot in front of the other, somehow manoeuvering out of other people's way, and away from lanterns and trash cans. His eyes were looking, but not seeing. His ears were filled with a continuous buzzing, and distant noises of New York streets.

He wasn't thinking. He knew what he'd just done, and wanted to push it out of his consciousness.

He didn't regret it. There was no hint of guilt or remorse. He never supported violence; he only started boxing to be able to defend himself when circumstances pushed him to.

It wasn't to punch the verbally abusive.

He did not feel guilty. Just… disturbed. He felt like he hadn't known himself well enough.

Before he knew it, Blaine reached Central Park. It was already getting dark, and the park was clearing out. He sat on a bench near the Pond, breathing deeply. The only thing he wanted was to get himself together before the inevitable return to the dorm. That punch had to be the only one he landed on anything else than a punchbag.

And then he was fumbling in his pocket for his phone. His finger hovered for a second over the number on the screen. But he shouldn't overthink this. He needed to talk to someone.

Someone who understood.

One tap. Three signals.

'Hello?'

'Kurt? It's Blaine'.

'Oh, hi! What is it, Blaine?'

'Um- you know my roommate?'

'Yeah, what's happened? Is he giving you grief again? How can I help?'

'He was, but- um-'

'What? What did he do?'

Blaine paused for a second. Kurt was waiting on the other side of the line, aware Blaine needed to be ready to tell him.

'He didn't really do anything. Anything out of the ordinary. But I… I kind of punched him.' He mumbled the last few words.

'Pardon? Could you repeat that?'

'I punched him.' The words still sounded unreal to him.

'But he didn't… assault you?'

'No. I assaulted him.'

'He provoked you, though, didn't he? Like at the party?'

'Yeah, he did. Worse, actually.'

'So don't beat yourself up. Um- No pun intended. You stood up for yourself. That's good. You can't let people trash you without consequences. Courage, Blaine, courage.'

Blaine inhaled a lungful of air. His peace of mind was coming back.

'Thanks, Kurt.'

'Anytime.'