Chapter 14

Warning: Adult content this chapter

July 21, 2019

Kurt looked up over his glasses at the knock on the door of his corner office at Vogue.  It was  Isabelle Wright, a vision in gold lamé and tulle at ten in the morning.  “Hello, my little protegee,” she sang, her arms outstretched.  “I love, love, love, the new office, sweetheart.   Or as I should say, Mr. Youngest New York Features Editor at Vogue Ever.”

“I owe it all to you, Fairy Godmother.” He rounded his desk and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  He motioned to his pearl-gray mid-century-modern chaise while he poured her a cup of tea from the carafe on the table beside it.

“Not at all. Your genius would have been discovered eventually.  I just had enough genius to recognize it early and give you your start.”

He handed her the cup and saucer, and then sat beside her.  “So we're both geniuses.  Genii?  Wait, that's the plural for genie, I think.”

“I consider myself both, darling.”

"With good reason."  Kurt grinned.  “So … it's a bit early for lunch, but how about going out with me for brunch to catch up?  Not that there's much to report on this end … still married to the job - - no time for romance.”  He laughed lightly, avoiding Isabelle's kind, perceptive eyes.  The truth was, he kept himself busy with work, and sleeping with older men who were as unlike "the one who got away" as he could manage.  He hadn't seen Blaine or spoken to him in four years, but the young man still haunted him.   He shook his head, and looked up at Isabelle.  “But I'd love to hear what's new with you.”

Isabelle patted his hand.  “Sounds lovely, but I just came from breakfast with a friend.  Im I'm here on business, anyway. I have something here for you." She brandished an expensive leather portfolio.

"Really? What is it?"

"Something for your column.  I remembered you saying you're at loose ends for a subject this month, and, well, there's something in there that I think will help you."

"Youre a lifesaver, Isabelle.  Please, stay and visit?"

Isabelle shook her head.  "Sorry...have to run. A glamorous fashion moguls work is never done."  She slid the portfolio onto his desk. "You can thank me later."  She kissed her fingers at him and was gone in a shimmery flash.

He opened the portfolio and withdrew a folder labeled “Young Elvis” … he recalled reading about the project, a major studio's biopic of Elvis Presley, though he'd heard the search for an actor to portray the icon was proving difficult.  He opened the folder and jumped in his seat, startled.  

Blaine's face stared up at him.   So many pictures.  Blaine, in fifties-style clothes, his arms over his head while  combing back an Elvis-style pompadour.  Blaine smiling.  Blaine pouting.  Blaine dancing. Blaine singing into an old-fashioned microphone.  Kurt laughed out loud through tears at a series of action shots of Blaine fixing his bow tie in front of a mirror, then turning to wink coyly and blow a playful kiss at the camera, the same silly, naughty boy he remembered. He stopped at the last picture in the folder, a head shot of Blaine, in costume and character as Elvis.  Kurt lingered over it a long time, tracing the face with his fingers and gazing at the big, beautiful eyes he remembered and had loved … golden-brown, not blue like Presley's … but the spirit was there.  The sweet, sad look.  And Blaine had the playful, natural sensuality to play the part.  It was perfect casting.

It had been far too long since he'd seen Blaine, or a picture of him.  Thankfully, Blaine had resurfaced a few weeks after he ran away from the loft, in California, at his brother Cooper's apartment.  Cooper had called and reported Blaine was disheveled and exhausted after hitchhiking across the country, but alive and in one piece.  With Cooper's help, Blaine had elected to stay in L.A. to pursue an acting career while finishing high school.  And with increasing frequency in the last four years, Kurt been startled by Blaine appearing on his TV screen in commercials, or as “Young Waiter”, “Ticket Taker", "Cell Mate" or “Preppy Student”, and a myriad of other bit parts on numerous TV shows.  Every time … every time, Kurt's heart froze and twisted in pain. It had gotten to the point that he instructed Sugar Motta, now his personal assistant, to check imdb to make sure Blaine Anderson, as he was billing himself now, didnt appear in the credits of any of his DVR'd shows, and to edit out the commercials to avoid an unexpected glimpse of Blaine.   But Isabelle had bypassed all his defenses.

There was a DVD in the folder.  Kurt slipped it into his computer to find an extended, unedited clip of Blaines audition.  Kurt watched Blaine bring young Elvis back to life, ending with a haunting rendition of “Love Me Tender” sung directly into the camera.  Vocal coaches and other musical purists could, and probably would, quibble that Blaine had rearranged the song to suit his natural vocal range, which was higher and narrower than the legendary Kings.  But the necessary emotion was there. It felt like it was being sung right to Kurt's heart, every pained, sorrowful note.

After he checked the press information in the folder, he was sure Blaine would break through to stardom in this role; the cast, the writers, the director, all were top notch.  And Kurt decided he would do something to help him.  The only thing he really could anymore, so far away and so long after the fact.

When the notes of Blaine's mournful song died away, Kurt listened to it again.  And then again.  And then put it on repeat while he went to work on the layout for this piece himself, poring over the pictures and tapping his column out on his computer as the lights in the other offices on the floor clicked off and he was left alone … and into the dawning light the next day.  

September 2019

“Mr. Boss-Man!” a voice sang out, shrill and piercing, from the next room.  Kurt winced; Sugar Motta had appeared out of nowhere at his office door a year ago, explaining that her daddy had been indicted and all his money was impounded, or some such thing, and now she was poor and needed a job, so she was going to be his personal assistant.  He distinctly recalled telling her no, but somehow she was still here, mangling his messages, accidentally disconnecting his calls, and being largely incompetent in almost all areas, except two:  she made a killer cup of coffee and made his days a little more fun.  He figured that was worth the salary he paid her out of his pocket.

He pressed a button on his phone and spoke into it calmly.  He would never give up on the possibility that she might learn to use the intercom some day.  “What is it, Sugar?”

“You got some swag back here!” She screeched, ignoring the intercom completely.  “From Blaine Anderson, that Hottie McHotterson you wrote this month's celebrity column about!It's a big ol' basket of goodies!  All your favorite stuff!”

Kurt went pale, then flushed with happiness.  Blaine.  He had read the column, and ...and he was reaching out after all this time.  He was making contact.  It was everything Kurt had been dreaming of for years … that Blaine would someday make an overture, would find it in his heart to forgive and come back to him, even after the way he'd abandoned the boy years ago..  Now, finally, finally, that day was here.  

His hand shaking, he pressed the button again.  “Thank you, Sugar.  Do you mind bringing it in?”

“No problem, Boss!” she shouted back.  He got up and went to meet Sugar at the door.  She came in, her entire upper body and head obscured by an enormous basket of fancy fruit and cheese.  Looking at it briefly with a practiced eye, he figured it cost at least $500.  Sugar's tiny leggings-clad legs, poking out from under the basket, staggered it over to the coffee table, and he helped her set it down.

Looking over the basket, he murmured, “Thanks, Sugar … but where's the card?  What did he write?”

“Got it right here, Boss-man!” she pulled it from her bra and handed it to him.  He raised an eyebrow at her, and she uncomprehendingly aped his expression back at him.  Sighing, he sat down on the couch and took a deep breath, preparing for the first words from Blaine in four years.  He shut his eyes to brace himself, then opened them and read: “Dear Mr. Hummel, Thank you so much for the wonderful write-up in this month's Kurtain Kall!  Very truly yours, The Daniels Group (Management for Blaine Anderson)”

Kurt's mouth went dry and his jaw clenched.

“Hey, there's kumquats in here! Lucky!” Sugar chirped, examining the basket.

“Get it out of here,” Kurt said through gritted teeth.

“What?  Why - -”

Kurt picked up the huge basket and marched to the office door.  Opening the door, he picked up the basket and hurled it with all his strength against the wall, where it crashed, mangoes, kumquats, persimmons and wheels of brie all bursting free and rolling in every direction down the hallway.  “I said get rid of it!  I don't want to see a trace of this when I leave for lunch in ten minutes, do I make myself clear?”

Sugar nodded frantically, and scurried out the door, where Kurt could hear her gathering up the contents of the basket in a paper bag, no doubt to take home along with all the office supplies and toilet paper she stole on a regular basis.  He stalked to the window and leaned his head against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring straight down the thirty stories to the ground and trying not to cry.

December 2019

“What do you mean, you're not coming to the wedding?” Burt's voice thundered over the phone.

“Hello to you too, Dad.”

“Never mind formalities, kiddo.  I just saw your response card.  Go ahead and explain what's keeping you from your brother's wedding. And make it good.”

Kurt tiptoed away from his bed so as not to wake the fifty-year-old financial analyst who had found his way into it last night.  “I … can't.  I can't look at her marrying Finn knowing I lost the love of my life because of her.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.  Any other questions?”

There was a brief silence, and then, “Yeah.  What's the real reason?  You can blame Rachel all you want, but you could have gone after Blaine back in the day or anytime since.  Is it her fault you didn't?”

“In a way,” Kurt hedged, foraging in the refrigerator for the makings of his breakfast.  “She made me doubt myself ... my integrity. Whether what happened between me and Blaine was wrong.  That ... messed me up for a long time, Dad.”   He looked over his shoulder through the bedroom door at the boring, emotionally unavailable closet-case he'd slept with the night before.  “I think I'm still messed up, to be honest.”

“I get that.  But all that was years ago, and she's sorry.  And she's paid a price, too.  Blaine has never spoken to her again either.”

Kurt paled.  “Still?” he whispered.  He left the food on the counter and went to his home office, clicking on the light and sitting at the computer.

“His ‘regrets' card is here too.  Cooper's coming, but not Blaine.  So if the real reason you're not coming is that you're afraid of seeing him again, you can put that out of your mind.  Look.  Rachel may be a big Broadway star now, but she hasn't got a lot of family or friends."

Kurt tapped expedia.com into the browser on his computer and looked for flights to Ohio. “There's a good reason for that.  Could she even find a maid of honor? Or will she need to call central casting?"

“Santanas doing it.”

Kurt sat up straight in his office chair.  “You're kidding.”

“Nope.  Rachel's seriously trying to bury a lot of hatchets … and I know Finn's invitation for you to be his best man still stands.  He wanted me to ask you one last time to reconsider, before he asks Puck.  Listen, kiddo. Come home for this.  You don't want any regrets.”

“A little late for that.”   

“Come on.   Can I change you from a “declines with regret” to an “accepts with pleasure”?”

“Is there a third option?”

“Kurt. Life is too short for this. Please come. For me and Carole and Finn.”

Burt never played fair.

“I'll be there."

~ * ~ * ~

The stage manager, recognizing Kurt from his blog, had escorted him personally to Rachel's dressing room. Once there,  he sat at her vanity, and waited for his former friend to take her curtain calls.  He idly rearranged her makeup brushes and pencils, then started examining the photographs tucked into the corners of the mirror.  One of Rachel and Finn, the day Finn had come home from the army, missing an eye and an arm, but still the same loving, gentle soul he had been in high school.  Another of the night Rachel had proposed, down on one knee on the Jumbotron at a Tigers game, thrilling his brother.  He looked at the two of them with his father and stepmother, his heart starting to constrict painfully.  That should be me and Blaine, his heart whispered.  And one last picture.  Blaine, the night of the Freshman Mixer so many years ago, standing wild-haired and grinning, thrilled with the prospect of his first dance, running headlong into life in his heedless, fearless way.  Blaine had explained once, in one of their drowsy conversations in the half-light of Blaine's bedroom in the loft, that having lived through what he believed was the worst thing that could ever happen to him--twice--and survived, had made him unafraid of anything ever again.  

Kurt sighed.  He missed Blaine's full-on approach to life so much.  But then again … maybe he had been right all along.  Maybe if they'd been more cautious, more patient, more prudent, things wouldn't have ended so horribly.  He took down the picture and studied it a moment, considering, then put it back.  

Behind him, the door opened and Rachel came in, breathless from the applause of her audience, who always accepted and loved her, as well they should.  “You were brilliant,” he said matter-of-factly, because it was a matter of fact.  

“Kurt.  I - - I - -”

He looked her over coolly.  “Congratulations on your engagement.  I guess this makes us brother and sister-in-law to be.”

Rachel hesitated, clearly intimidated by his tone; and then blurted all in a rush, “Yes.   Kurt, I'm so sorry.  Please forgive me, please let's be friends again.”

They sat in silence.  Kurt supposed that he was expected to offer an apology too, but he sat staring at her until she looked down a moment, then back up at him in her old appealing way, hands outstretched.  “Kurt … you know I was thinking of Blaine- -”

“That's bull.  It was about you, not about him.  Everything was always about you.”

Rachel blinked back tears.  “I was alone, Kurt.  I'd promised my dads I'd take care of him.  I had nobody else I could trust.  Can't you try to understand what I felt like?”

“Can't you try to understand what you did to us? To me?”  he shouted.  “You took something beautiful and you made it seem …”  he choked.  “Dirty. You made me feel dirty for loving him.  And god only knows what that made him feel.”

“I know.  But  I didn't understand that then.  I - - I wouldn't have called the police, not really.  I just … I was angry. All I knew was that you'd lied to me, that … you weren't the best friend I thought you were.”

“Why?  Because I loved your brother?  Because I fought it for months out of respect for you, for his age?  Because I tried to protect you?  That's why I did it.  Because I loved you, too. And you … you wouldn't see that!” Kurt choked, overcome with emotion.

Rachel twisted the engagement ring on her finger, whispering through her own tears, “Maybe … maybe if you went to him, and talked - -”

“That's like gluing together a broken vase and pretending you can't see the seams,” Kurt said.  “I can't undo what  … what I let you do to us.  What I did.”  His shoulders sagged and he put his head in his hands, crying.   For the first time since that rainy August day, he made himself say it, feel it.  “I let you make me break his heart, and mine.  I should have had more faith in what we had,” he sobbed.  “I should have fought for him …”  He scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.  “I … I know you suffered too, Rachel.  I know you were a kid yourself, and  you went through hell.  It's myself I'm really mad at.  I'm done blaming you for my mistakes.  I - I'm sorry too.  More than you know.”

Rachel went to his side and put her arms around him.  “Maybe you can still fight for him.”  She tilted up his face and wiped his tears.  

“No.”  Kurt shook his head and pulled her in for a hug, whispering against her cheek.  “It's too late now. I forgive you, Rachel … but I can't forgive myself.  Not ever.  And I can't expect Blaine to.”  

February 2020

Kurt arranged the filmy veil around Rachel's face, affixing it with pearl-tipped pins.  “You're supposed to be Finn's best man, not my maid of honor,” Rachel smiled at him in the mirror.  “Shouldn't you be with your brother?”

“I'm needed here more,” Kurt said, frowning.  “Vera would never forgive me if I let you go out there with this veil any which way.  And Puck is better suited for any last minute bro-talk, anyway.  There.  You're perfect.”

“I … I'm so happy you're here, Kurt.  I'm so glad we're friends again.”

Kurt squeezed her shoulder as they looked at each other in the mirror.  “Me too, Rachel.”

“The old loft gang, together again,”  Santana said, from her perch on the vanity table. Rachel's face fell, and Kurt quickly turned to pick up Rachel's bouquet of hot-pink roses and hand it to her.  There was one important person missing, and probably always would be. The only place any of them would see him now was on screen at the movie theater.

Of course, Kurt had agreed to come mainly because Blaine wouldn't be here.  He couldn't bear to see him again.  To see if he'd changed, which would break his heart.  If he hadn't, which would do the same.  Surely Blaine had someone special by now, and he would have brought that someone with him.  Seeing Blaine with someone else would pulverize the remaining pieces of his heart into a fine powder.

Looking at Rachel's pained face, though, he regretted his relief that Blaine wasn't going to be here.  Rachel deserved to have her whole family, what little of it there was left, with her today.

A tap came at the doorway, breaking the awkward moment, and Santana hurried to open it.  Cooper was standing there, handsome as ever.  

“Here to give me away, big brother?”

“Sure am, Peanut,” Cooper smiled.  “But I also brought a little surprise with me … my plus one, here.”  He put his arm out and drew someone into the doorway.

“Blainers!” Santana threw her arms around him.  Rachel jumped up and rushed to hug her younger brother as well.  Kurt shrank back into the corner, his heart pounding.

"Look at you," Blaine said, finally. "You look so beautiful."

“You came!  I - - I didn't think you would.  I didn't think you'd ever forgive me,” Rachel said, holding Blaine's face in both her hands and smiling through her tears.

“I forgave you a long time ago … I just … I couldn't admit it,” Blaine said.  “But Finn called me last night and … well, he made me realize I needed to let go of all that and be here.  I'm sorry, Rachel -- I'm sorry I stayed away so long.  I love you.”  

They hugged tightly, and Kurt's throat constricted as he watched.  Blaine was even handsomer than ever, slightly more muscular but still trim and slender.  Kurt gazed at Blaine unnoticed until the young man looked up and spotted Kurt for the first time over Rachel's shoulder.  Their eyes locked and Kurt felt the years drop away.  He couldn't speak, but he didn't have to.  He read Blaine's eyes and his heart as easily as he ever had.

“You have to be in the wedding party,” Rachel squealed, hopping up and down and smiling up at Blaine.  “I want you to stand up on stage next to me today.  Please?”

Blaine smothered a smile. "Its an altar, not a stage," he said fondly.  

Rachel dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. "Everywhere I go is a stage. And Finns bride is my most important role. Please, Blaine, will you stand next to me today?"

“Oh, Rachel - I'm not dressed for it - I'll ruin the whole look you've got going.  Ill sit in the front row."

Kurt stepped forward holding his supply bag, his heart racing.  “Actually, we're all wearing simple single-breasted black tuxedos, just like you … I have an extra tie and set of jewelry for emergencies.  You can … you can have them, and then you'll fit right in.”  

Blaine smiled tentatively at Kurt and nodded, and Rachel squealed again in delight, squeezing his arm and letting go, to run over to the table and fix her eye makeup.  “I told you to wear waterproof mascara, Berry,” Santana said, wiping her own eyes furtively.

Kurt rummaged in the bag and produced another of the hideous hot-pink bow ties that Rachel had imposed on all of them and held it up toward Blaine.  Their eyes met again, this time amused, and they shared a smile over the gaudy accessory.  Kurt's heart skipped a beat, as we watched Blaine strip off the elegant, thin black tie he was wearing, remembering earlier times.  Blaine took the new garish one from Kurt's hand, their fingers brushing lightly.  He watched Blaine slide the new tie under his collar and tie it deftly and perfectly.

"It's - - it's a little crooked,” Kurt lied.  He reached up and adjusted it one way and then back into place.  “There,” he whispered.  “Perfect.”  

“We have to hurry, though,” Rachel said, fussing with her skirt.  “Santana, can you help me with this train? And Kurt, can you help Blaine before you go to stand with Finn?" She looked hopefully at the two of them as Santana adjusted the train behind her and Cooper looked on.

Kurt turned back to Blaine, who had already unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and removed the tasteful black button stud he had been wearing.  Blaine put the stud in his pocket, but Kurt shook his head and held out his hand.  “You'll just lose those if you do that.  And you'll rattle,” he said, his voice suddenly a little hoarse.  He handed the new stud to Blaine and took the old one, putting it in the box for him.  Kurt realized was standing a little close … but Blaine didn't move away as he rebuttoned the top button and they went through the same procedure for the three buttons below it.  Then Blaine took off his cufflinks quickly and deposited them in the little box in Kurt's hand.  He managed the new cufflink on the left hand, but was fumbling with the one on his right, when Kurt set down the box, reached over and fastened it for him.  

“There.  All done.”  Kurt resisted the urge to smooth a hand over Blaine's jacket.  They looked into each other's eyes again, and Blaine smiled the brilliant smile that had always made Kurt come undone.  “Thanks, Kurt … See you at the altar?”

“Yeah …” Kurt whispered, backing out of the room slowly as Quinn and Mercedes, in matching hot pink bridesmaids dresses, swept giggling into the room and shut the door in his face.

~ * ~ * ~

A few blurry minutes later, a still-dazed Kurt stood beside Finn at the altar and the wedding party began their procession down the aisle.  First Sam and Mercedes. Then Puck and Quinn. Blaine came next, walking down the aisle with no partner, smiling easily at friends and family who reached out to clasp the hand of the prodigal brother as he walked by.  Kurt didn't look at anything or anybody else after that.  

The ceremony passed in a haze; all Kurt could see was Blaine standing across the altar from him.  Puck had to nudge him when it was time for the wedding ring, and he blushed and handed it over, but returned to watching Blaine's profile.  At one point, when the judge pronounced the couple man and wife, Blaine finally shifted his gaze and found Kurt's eyes on him.  He smiled sadly, and Kurt dropped his eyes.  

When the party proceeded back down the aisle, a twinkling-eyed Santana gestured for Blaine to go ahead of her, and Kurt offered him his arm.  After a fraction of a second, Blaine took it and they recessed down the aisle arm in arm, Kurt thrilling to Blaines touch.

~ * ~

The reception was stuffy, crowded and too hot, but Blaine didnt care. He was slow dancing in Kurts arms again.  It was like every dream hed dreamed since Kurt left him had come true. But he tried hard to contain his expectations, and not attach undue significance to Kurts undivided attention, to the way Kurt was holding him so very tight, to the compliments and memories Kurt kept whispering in his ear.  They were old friends and ex-lovers at a family wedding. He and Kurt were ... brothers-in-law now? Was that right?  He wasnt sure what this wedding made him and Kurt, but he knew that the magic he was feeling with Kurt was temporary. It was reminiscing, it was closure, it might even lead to a hookup for old time sake. And then they would return to their lives three thousand miles apart. The magic would dissipate.

Even as wonderful as being with Kurt again felt, there were too many reminders that their love was in the past, that too much had changed. Kurts body felt different ... Blaine was sure Kurt had grown both taller and broader-shouldered, and his face was now scratchy with five oclock shadow, which had almost never happened  back when they were together. Kurt must have changed fragrances, too, because he even smelled totally different.  And of course Blaine had grown up and changed too. He wasnt the person Kurt knew and loved back then, not anymore.

Blaine clutched Kurt closer as if it could bring back the years theyd lost.

Kurt pulled away slightly and looked deep in his eyes.  Blaine couldnt look away.  He shivered and suddenly realized that Kurt had somehow guided them onto the venues open verandah.The frigid, starry sky was overhead and Kurts beautiful pale face and misty, changeful gray-blue eyes were luminescent in the moonlight.  The night was cold, bitterly so, but Kurt slid his arms around, sheltering and warming him, stroking strong, sure hands over Blaine's back.  Blaine hadn't fully known just how cold he was, how lonely and empty, until just now when Kurt held him close and chased the chill away, Kurt's warm cheek pressed against his.    

Then Kurt was kissing him, so much like the old days.   The feel of Kurt's mouth on his, the press of Kurt's sweet, soft lips, was finally the same as he remembered, and Blaine melted into the kiss, parting his lips and whimpering.  Kurt gasped against his mouth and the kiss turned hotter, more frenzied.  Kurt was holding him so tightly, kissing him so deeply, and Blaine's knees went weak.  He cupped his trembling hands on either side of Kurt's face, his fingertips gently tracing Kurt's jawline, and closed his eyes in bliss.

Weak and overwhelmed, Blaine knew he should stop this.  It was going to be much worse after feeling Kurts strong arms around him again and letting Kurt kiss him like this. It had taken him years to move past Kurt, even incompletely, and this would only put him right back where he started, grieving and heartbroken.

But he didnt care. He would take what was offered tonight and deal with the heartache later. He kissed Kurt back with everything he had. And when Kurts lips left his to travel down his neck, and he whispered for Blaine to come up to his hotel room and be with him, he couldnt say no.

*******

Blaine felt physically dizzy. The anticipation, the longing of four years was about to be satisfied, as he let Kurt lead him back into the reception.  He saw Burt and Mercedes and Santana, and everyone else they knew, give them knowing, pleased looks as they wove their way through the crowd.  He followed Kurt close behind, clutching his arm, afraid to make eye contact lest he get trapped talking to anyone else and destroying the moment, worried that  Kurt might get distracted or even lose interest. Then … then he wouldn't get to hold Kurt one last time, and that couldn't happen. He hurried his steps and pulled Kurt along and out the door to the hotel lobby.  He had to be with Kurt one more time, no matter what happened later.  He had to.

Kurt pushed the “up” button on the elevator, smiling at him and showing all his teeth, a sign that he was truly happy and relaxed.  Blaine loved it when Kurt let himself really smile like that. Kurt laughed when Blaine reached out and pressed the button again impatiently, looking up at the floor numbers as they blinked on in descending order, so slowly.   “What's your hurry?  We have all the time in the world, sweetheart,”  Kurt smiled.

Blaine leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder, feeling subdued and pensive and suddenly a little sad.  He wished that Kurt's words were true, but if life had taught him anything, it was that time was the most precious and fleeting thing in the world.  He kissed Kurt's neck along the jawline softly.  He intended to make the most of the little time he could have with Kurt tonight.  

“You okay?  You look a little pale,” Kurt murmured, leaning his head against the top of Blaine's and pressing a gentle kiss to Blaine's temple.  The door opened with a ping and Kurt stepped in, pushing the button for his floor.  They … they were really going to do this.  They were going to make love again, and probably have a whole night together. It was real.

Blaine blinked back tears, his heart pounding so hard and fast, his hands trembling with desire to touch.  He wouldn't let himself hope for more than tonight, but as the door slid shut on just the two of him, he startled Kurt, and himself, by launching himself at Kurt and pressing him against the elevator wall, kissing him fiercely.  “I'm fine,”he moaned.  “I just want you so bad.…”  he stopped talking and sucked on Kurt's neck, mouthing at his ear, hands roaming all over Kurt's shoulders and back everywhere he could reach, and Kurt chuckled.

“You're so impatient,” Kurt gasped. “I am too, baby, but there's security cameras in these things.  Let's save it for my room, okay?”

The door opened and Kurt took his hand, smiling happily, and they half-ran down the hallway.  Blaine bounced up and down impatiently as Kurt opened the door to his room with his key card, then grabbed Blaine's tie and dragged him by it into the hotel room.  

Once inside, in the dim hotel room, things changed again, slowed down as Kurt tenderly and lovingly undressed and worshipped him, taking care of him, apologizing and begging his forgiveness over and over again, and Blaine forgot to be afraid anymore, forgot to hold anything back.  He loved Kurt as much as he ever had, and he told Kurt so breathlessly while Kurt made love to him.  And he chose to believe Kurt when he said the same.  For now.  Because he needed to.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~  

Kurt stirred and blinked at the movement in the bed. He watched Blaine get up quietly and move about the darkened room gathering their scattered clothes, slipping on those that belonged to him and placing those that didnt carefully on the dresser.  Blaines face was only dimly visible, but looked sad and tired as he sat heavily in a chair beside the bed and started pulling on socks and shoes. Kurt clicked on the bedside lamp.

"Going somewhere?"

"Hey, didnt mean to wake you."

"I can see that.  Were you going to sneak out, Blaine?"  He hitched over in bed and sat on the edge.  

Blaine finished tying his shoes. "I have to go. Got a flight back to LA this morning, early. Gonna go take a quick shower in my room and pack up.  Was going to stop by to say goodbye on the way out so you could get a little more sleep."

"No you weren't.  You were running out on me."

Blaine had a forced smile on his face as he stood up. "This was great, Kurt. Thank you. It was ... fun."

He grabbed his wallet from among the tissues and silver packets littering the nightstand, and his tuxedo jacket from the floor next to it.  He put the wallet in the inside pocket and went to the mirror.

"Fun?" Kurt echoed. "Thats all youre going to say it was?"

"Cmon Kurt. What else can it be with four years gone by, and 3,000 miles still between us? It was more than just fun, okay, but its still just one night and thats all it can be.  A ... nice way to say goodbye to the past. Lets not ruin it with a fight."

Kurt got up and helped Blaine into his jacket, ignoring his own nakedness.  Watching Blaine in the mirror, he saw pain and mistrust hiding under a mask of cool indifference. Blaine had never hidden his feelings well. Not from Kurt. He brushed Blaines jacket, an excuse to touch him again.

"Its not just one night. Its been every night and every day since we fell in love. Cancel your flight."

Blaine's face crumpled. "And then what?" He cried out, jerking away suddenly.  “We pretend for another day that we're back together?”

“We figure out what we're going to do - - how we're going to make this thing work between us.  I still love you, and I know you love me.  We can make it work somehow.”

Blaine shook his head adamantly.  “No, we're not going to go there.”

“Is there someone else?” Kurt whispered. “Is it serious -”

“There's nobody else.  But I live on the other side of the country.  And I don't want to hear any promises from you that'll turn out to be just so much crap."  Anger flashed in Blaines gentle eyes. "You talk about me sneaking out of here?  You're the one who left, Kurt.  Youre the one who didnt keep your promises.  And its not the first time. You promised me you'd keep in touch when you moved to New York - you didn't.  You said you loved me and wanted to be with me, and then you deserted me.  I - I didnt know where you were that summer, Kurt!" he cried. "I couldnt find you! I needed you and you werent around, you werent there for me. You never called me again. But  you expect me to believe you'll keep your promises now?”  

Kurt had retrieved his underwear from the lamp on the dresser while Blaine was talking, and tried to argue while pulling them up hurriedly. “Blaine, I'm sorry.  I did what I thought was right at the time, and then I thought too much time had gone by --”

“Excuses.  Forget it, Kurt.  Let's just … leave things like this." He leaned over and kissed Kurts mouth quickly.  "A little trip down memory lane, a beautiful goodbye to what we had.”

Blaine turned and was out the door in a few strides, and Kurt was left open-mouthed and staring at the hotel room door, absorbing the fact that hed had true love back for a night only to lose it again.

Hell no.  Not this time.

Kurt flung open the door and raced down the hallway, catching an astonished Blaine by the arm.  “No, Blaine.  You're not running away.  You told me once that no matter what, when you love somebody, you should tell them how you feel, that you should live your life to the fullest all the time.  No regrets. I realize now how right you were.”

“I didn't know what I was talking about.  I was just a kid, remember?” Blaine voice was pure ice.

Before Kurt could respond, a family of three children and their parents came into the hallway, staring slack jawed at the two of them.  

Blaine casually stepped in front of Kurt to block their view, but the parents just glared at them and herded the children toward the elevator.

“I don't know what their problem is.  These briefs cost more than that hideous coat of hers,” Kurt muttered.  

“Then I hope they have a pocket somewhere with your key card in it.” Blaines mouth twitched and a twinkle was lurking around his eyes.

Kurt looked down at himself and then at the locked door to his room.

“Shit.”

Their blended laughter sounded like music to Kurts ears. Hed missed harmonizing with Blaine so much. Laughing. Singing. Making love.  Always in perfect harmony and rhythm, unlike with anyone else. The mishap seemed to have broken the tension, as Blaine was smiling at him again like the boy he remembered.

"C'mon, dummy.  My room is down the hall, fortunately for you.”  Blaine moved down a few more doors and swiped his key card. “I'll let you borrow something to wear until you get a new card.”

“And can we talk?” Kurt asked hopefully.  Blaine hesitated, but then smiled.

“Yeah. Lets ... talk.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The hotel had a complimentary breakfast buffet, and Blaine still was a breakfast lover, so after a shower, a quickie in Blaine's untouched bed, and another shower together, Kurt found himself being led by the love of his life into the dining room downstairs.  Wearing bright red highwaters in Blaine's size, a black polo shirt and, because Blaine insisted the outfit required it even for a trip to the lobby for breakfast and a replacement room key, a striped bow tie.  His feet were stretching out a pair of Blaine's loafers.  Blaine looked particularly pleased and smug, and Kurt quirked an eyebrow, then looked around.

Most of the wedding guests were seated around the dining room, gaping openly at the two of them.  Puck slapped Blaine on the back on the way past the hostess station, and whispered to Kurt, “Geddit, Hummel.”

“Well, I guess people can tell you're wearing my clothes,” Blaine said innocently.  

“You think?” Kurt said, hiding a smile.  

“Are you embarrassed?” Blaine asked, leaning in and whispering seductively in Kurt's ear.  “They all know we made love last night.”

“Hey, Kiddo.  Blaine,” Burt interrupted from behind them.  Blaine jumped and then went pale.

“Hey Dad, Carol,” Kurt said, leaning on the hostess station and enjoying Blaine's nervous breakdown.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hu- hu- hummel,” Blaine stammered.  “You - you getting some … some breakfast?”

“Yeah, that's generally what I eat at 8:00 in the morning.  So Kurt, new look?  Short pants?”

Kurt shrugged, smiling shyly, and Burt relented.  

“I'm glad you guys … ran into each other here.  It's been too long coming.  So … you want to sit together?” Burt said, starting suddenly when Carol poked him and shook her head.

“Not this morning, Dad.  I'm going to drop Blaine off at the airport and then I'll see you at the after-wedding lunch you're throwing.  Then we can catch up some, okay?  I'd just like to keep this guy to myself for a few more hours,” Kurt said, putting an arm around Blaine, and gazing into his eyes.  Burt smiled and pressed Kurt's arm, shook Blaine's hand, and went on his way with Carol.

“Everyone can see us,” Blaine whispered, incredulity joy shining from his eyes.  “All our friends, our family … we don't have to hide this time.  I'm … so happy.”

Kurt nodded, too happy to speak, and the two of them got on line at the buffet behind Mercedes and Sam, who smiled and nodded approvingly.  Kurt wasn't very hungry, but he took a few pieces of fruit and an English muffin, and once Blaine had gotten his food, inclined his head toward an out-of-the-way corner table.  

Sitting down, he reached a hand out to clasp Blaine's for a second, still gazing lovingly at him.  Picking up his coffee cup and inhaling the bracing scent, he watched Blaine pick up his knife and start putting jelly on some toast.  “So … we have a lot to catch up on,” he remarked.  “What've you been up to, besides getting cast in the biggest film of the year?”

Blaine looked down, toying with his toast.  “Well, you know the beginning... I ran away from home.  Managed to get myself across the country, even though I got robbed about twelve hours after I left.”

Kurt put down his cup and took Blaine's hand again.  “No … Blaine … why didn't you call your sister or one of our friends?  They would have gotten word to me.  I would've driven anywhere to come get you.”

“I didn't know that.  Not then.  That was why I ran away, I had to get away and start over someplace new.”  Blaine took a nibble of toast.  “That was a rough trip … I'll tell you more about it someday.  But it was okay once I got to Cooper's, and we decided I'd stay there.  I finished high school, but I never bothered with college.  So … I guess you're the educated one.”

“It's a shame.  You were such a great student.”laine shrugged.  “I wanted to get on with it.  Wanted to be a grown-up, I guess.  Being a kid seemed to be a liability.  I kept thinking if I made it as a big star, you'd be all impressed and … come to get me back.”  He laughed, but it was forced and there was so much pain still in his eyes.

Kurt's eyes stung.  “I'm so sorry, Blaine.”

Blaine shook his head.  “Don't apologize anymore.  We both made mistakes.”  He paused.  “And maybe we could move past it … if you want to try.  We have time to talk a little about it after breakfast, before I leave for LA.”

Kurt smiled and squeezed Baine's hand.  “Deal.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Thanks for driving me to the airport, Kurt.  You didn't have to.”

“It's no trouble.  I'm glad to have at least this much time with you before you go back.  It's too bad you couldn't get out of those promotional interviews for Young Elvis.”  Kurt put his blinker on and turned to off onto the access road for the airport.

Blaine nodded, his heart sick and heavy, homesick again for Kurt already even though he hadn't left yet.  He had known it would be hard to say goodbye.  He'd tried to sneak out the hotel room in part to avoid saying that hated word, and even the wonderful talk and passionate, joyful romp they'd shared at the hotel after breakfast, didn't dull the pain of separation from Kurt quite enough.

“Don't look so sad,” Kurt said, flashing a bright smile at Blaine.  “This isn't an ending.  It's just a beginning.  We're going to skype every day, and text every chance we get.  And I'm coming to see you next month, remember?”

“I remember,” Blaine said softly.  He looked down at his hands in his lap, willing himself to have faith that this time things would be different.  This time, they would take it slow, they'd do everything the smart way.  Things were really looking up and hopefully, this time they would make it work.  They would put each other first, and they wouldn't let anything or anyone come between them.  He smiled tentatively at Kurt, as they pulled up to the  sidewalk outside his loading gate.   “Wish you didn't have to rush off,” he admitted as Kurt put the car in park.

“You want me to come in and sit with you until it's time?” Kurt asked.  “I can park the car and - -”

“No, honey.  It's - - it's okay.  We're loading any minute now and I'd rather say goodbye here, in private.”

“Not goodbye.  We're never saying goodbye to each other again.”

“See you later, then,” Blaine amended, leaning in for a spine-tingling “see you later” kiss.   Tears nearly blinding him, he got out of the car and waved, surprised to see that Kurt seemed quite chipper as he pulled out of the parking spot with a jaunty wave and a screech of tires, apparently in a big hurry to get back to the after-wedding lunch with his family.  Well, he supposed that was fair enough … Kurt didn't get to Ohio often and he should enjoy his time here with the other people he cared about.  Blaine picked up his overnight bag and trudged to the loading gate, where he presented his ticket and checked his bag, emotionally exhausted from the previous twenty-four hours of reunions and reconciliations and great sex and inevitable separations.  

Blaine boarded the plane, checking his boarding pass and heading down the aisle to his seat in first class.  The plane was nearly empty, luckily.  He probably was going to be ordering lots of cocktails and getting stinking drunk and crying a lot, and he preferred not to have an audience for his catharsis.

He sank down into the comfortable seat with a sigh, closing his eyes a minute and leaning back.  He remembered Kurt's goodbye kiss again, played it in his mind, and touched his lips softly with his fingertips where the feeling of Kurt's lips still lingered, like ghost pain.   Sitting up with a shake of his head, he pulled out his cellphone to call Kurt one last time before the attendants made them put away their phones.  He had to hear Kurt's voice one more time.

After three rings, Kurt's beautiful voice answered.  “Miss me already?”

Blaine turned toward the window, his eyes misting up.  “I … I wish I'd called you years ago.  I wish we hadn't wasted so much time.  I love you so much, Kurt,” he said.  “I dreamed of you every night, and a lot of times when I was awake too.  I don't want to have to go back to dreaming … “

“So stop dreaming,” Kurt's voice came from the phone, but also … from beside him.  Blaine whirled his head and saw his Kurt, stuffing his carry-on into the overhead compartment with one hand, holding his cellphone in the other.  “Surprise!”

“What - Kurt - - you're - -” Blaine looked dumbly at the phone, then at Kurt.  “You're here!”

“Just bought a ticket.  Gonna go with you to L.A. for a few weeks.”  Kurt sat down next to Blaine and smiled tenderly at him.   “Then, when you aren't as busy with promotion, you're coming back to New York for a while,” he said, leaning over and murmuring, “I'm never letting you go, not ever again.  Not now that my dreams finally came true.”