Are you missing something?

Looking for something?

Tired of everything?

Searching and struggling.

Are you worried about it?

Do you wanna talk about it?

Oh, you're gonna get it right sometime.

            Blaine woke up with Kurt's arm wrapped snug around his waist, fingers splayed across the flat of his stomach with his hips snug against the curve of Blaine's ass. He wanted this every day. He wanted to be able to wake up at whatever time he wanted and have his boyfriend's body pressed along the line of his back. He wanted this forever. Blaine rolled in Kurt's arms, snuggling in against his chest and feeling the other man smile.

            “You're already awake,” Blaine murmured, leaning back slightly to crack open an eye. Kurt was watching him warmly, wet hair (since when?) flopped over his forehead with his post-shower-pink face.

            “I've been up for awhile. It's about 11:30 and I took a shower and came back to watch you sleep.” Kurt brushed the backs of his fingers down the side of Blaine's face, hand resting on his neck.

            “Creep.”

            “Your creep.” Blaine smiled, reaching up to press a quick kiss to Kurt's nose and roll off the bed, all too aware of his nakedness. He headed toward the bathroom, biting his lower lip as he tried not to feel embarrassed.

            “If you're up for a second shower, you can come and wash my hair.” He shot a look over his shoulder, cheeks heating up as Kurt's eyes flashed to meet his from where he was obviously staring at Blaine's ass.

            “Is that even a question you need to ask?” He practically leapt out of the bed, chasing Blaine down the hall to the bathroom.

            It was exactly 1:32PM when they stepped foot inside Vapiano's; after the homeless man that stalked them across town they were thrilled to find it nearly empty for what must have been the first time ever.

            “I don't know what bowtie to pick.” Blaine was standing almost over his dresser, as close to hanging off of it as possible without tearing out the drawers. Kurt was perched on the edge of his bed, already dressed in a light lavender v-neck and a simple pair of khakis, hair drawn up into its usual perfect coif and Blaine was struggling. He wasn't supposed to be the struggler.

            “Blaine, honey, you don't need to go overboard. It's not like this is an official date or something. We're just going out because Vapiano's sounds so appealing after having sex.” Kurt dropped back on his elbows, giving a drawn out sigh as he watched Blaine with a little smile.

            He was standing there half-sagging in the drawer of his dresser that housed his bowties in the royal blue skinny jeans he loved accompanied with his white belt, the fascinating cyan polo with white rimmed collar, and his black and medium grey saddle shoes. And for some God awful reason, he couldn't find a bowtie that went with his outfit. “Just because it doesn't have to look perfect, doesn't mean I have to look like a mopey, miserable kid who doesn't know how to dress himself.”

            “You look like that right now crying about not being able to pick a bowtie.”

            “Exactly, which is why you should help me.” Blaine twisted to give Kurt a pleading look over his shoulder, pushing out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

            “Fine,” Kurt groaned, pushing himself off the bed and moving to glance into Blaine's drawer. “This one.” He chose so quickly that Blaine was sure he was going to get whiplash. It was white and black puzzle pieces. Kurt looped it around the back of Blaine's neck, tucking it under his collar before tipping up Blaine's chin with two of his fingers and starting the tie. “Because you're my missing puzzle piece.”

            Blaine dropped in his seat across from Kurt after a worrying stair climb that nearly resulted in both of their deaths just because Blaine was a clumsy asshole who apparently didn't know how to walk up steps without dying.

            “Last night was amazing,” Blaine mumbled around a mouthful of Caesar salad, almost positive there was dressing on his face somewhere.

            Kurt just smiled down at his low-fat pasta, twisting the noodles around the tip of his fork with slightly creased eyebrows. “It was incredible and all because of you.”

            Blaine felt his face heat up, staring determinedly at his glass of Pepsi. “No, you,” he objected quietly.

            Kurt reached across the table, forcing Blaine to set down his cutlery as he clasped his fingers. “I love you.”

            Blaine sucked in a breath, eyes flicking up to rest on Kurt's face as he grinned back at him. “I love you, too. I love you so much.” And he so did. He so, so did. Except he really had to go to the bathroom and he didn't know why he didn't notice until that very second because now he had to try and get back down the stairs. “And I would stay here and tell you how much I love you forever, but nature calls.” Kurt just snorted, taking back his hand and waving him away. Blaine almost slipped and threw himself down the stairs because apparently walking just wasn't his thing today.

            The bathroom was also deserted, not like that was a surprise. It was nice to be able to do his business in peace for what must have been the first time in public since he moved to New York. Blaine washed his hands, leaning against the wall beside the door and pulling out his phone. He knew how much Kurt hated it when he checked it while they were eating so he figured he had the time to do it now. There was a missed call from his mother (he finally saved her number) and from Christian; which was confusing.

            Blaine hit the call key and it rang three times before his roommate finally answered. “Hey.”

            “Hi,” Christian returned. He sounded so exhausted. “I just wanted to call and tell you that I probably won't be home for awhile.” He literally sounded like he would rather lobotomize himself than be awake another second.

            “I kind of realized that. Is everything okay with Rachel? I mean, I assume it is if you're not home.”

            “I don't know what you'd count as okay but if you mean she's going on a small Godzilla rampage and probably plotting the destruction of the entire city of New York with just her inner rage, yeah, its fine.” Christian sighed, probably rubbing a hand over his face.

            “That sounds horrifying. So she's pregnant? For real? Santana didn't just fuck with her test?”

            “No, it's real. The uh... the condom... broke.”

            “I'd give you a high-five for finally getting laid but maybe you shouldn't have if this was the outcome. Did you check the date on it? Did you... lube it enough?” He felt ridiculous. He felt like he was a father preaching to his son the importance of a condom. But this was Christian; this was the man that had walked in on him having sex with another man enough times that Blaine lost count.

            “It should have been fine. The date was fine and the... motion... was smooth enough. I don't know why it broke. I was careful and this is the reward I get.” There was a sniff across the line. God, this was his breaking point. “I was so careful because I didn't want this to happen and now.... Blaine, I'm going to be a father. I don't know if I'm ready for this. I don't even know if I'm ready to be committed to Rachel and this is making me have to and I'm really scared.” Christian was in no way a bad guy. He was sweet and kind and caring, but he also had his breaking point. He talked a lot about what he had planned for the future, rarely talked about girls and family and forever. Rachel was his first partner in what must have been four years and this was what he was given as a reward. A fucking baby.

            “Hey, hey. Everything's going to be okay. Rachel might seem crazy now, but she'll settle; she's a nice girl. I know it's scary and I wish I could tell you that I know how it feels but we both know that I don't. You'll get there. Maybe you aren't sure about things now but there will be a time when you know what you want out of all this. Do you know if she's keeping it?”

            “I'm not really sure if she's decided or not. All she does is yell and cry all day about how her career is ruined and then she tells me that she hates me for doing this to her and then she yells about stupid things like Santana not closing a cupboard. I don't want her to hate me.” Christian gave a broken sob and Blaine's heart ached.

            “She won't hate you. She's just hyped up on hormones and stress which do not make a friendly concoction. Give her time and be there for her and try and push how you feel out of the mix for awhile because that will just make everything worse. I know it sucks and I know that it's hard but you can do this because you're so fucking strong. You dragged me in and looked after me and paid the rent and tried to help me get my piece of shit life back together even though I know that I'm not the easiest person to work with. You can do this.”

            There was another sniffle. “Thank you. I'm going to try.”

            “Christian, I love you, okay? You help so many people and this time, someone's going to help you."

            Blaine pushed his way out of the bathroom, slipping his phone back into his pocket and bounding back up the stairs. He was in there for what must have been pretty close to ten minutes meaning he needed to apologize to Kurt. “Hey—What's wrong?” Blaine grabbed the back of Kurt's seat, sliding to kneel on the floor beside him. He was shaking. Kurt jerked away from the brush of his arm on his shoulder so fast he almost slipped off his seat and fell to the floor. “Kurt, honey, please. What happened? What's wrong?” Blaine held out his hand, slowly wrapping his other arm around the back of Kurt's shoulders and trying to urge him closer. Something happened in the ten minutes that Blaine was in the bathroom and he didn't know what and it was driving him insane. This wasn't supposed to happen. They had a wonderful day yesterday and today was going to be just as good and then it was ruined.

            Kurt slowly let himself be pulled against Blaine's chest, fingers clinging to his shirt. “Sweetheart, you're trembling.” Shaking was definitely a better word because this was a lot more than little baby trembles. “Whatever it was, it's over. I'm here now.” They sat there in silence; Kurt's hands clasped into fists against Blaine's chest, Blaine's arms snug around Kurt's frame.

            “He found me,” Kurt croaked out, voice cracking like broken glass and shattering into a million little shards that slowly ripped Blaine apart.

            “Who found you?” Whoever it was he was going to kill them. Kurt just shook his head. “Kurt, you're scaring me. Please tell me what happened. Who hurt you?”

            His boyfriend seemed to shake even harder and Blaine felt the way his mouth opened and closed before he tried again. “Cecil.”    

            Blaine had wanted to both cry and scream at the same time because he wasn't supposed to come back. He wasn't supposed to be around to harass Kurt. Blaine paced the length of his living room, nails biting into his palms where his hands were curled into fists at his sides. He tried to convince Kurt to come home with him, to let Blaine wrap him up in a blanket and make him tea and watch a shitty romance movie with him until they both fell asleep on the couch but all the other man did was brush him off and insist that he needed to be alone for awhile.

            Blaine felt useless; completely and utterly useless. His roommate was dealing with a hell spawn of a pregnant girlfriend, his boyfriend was probably having a mental breakdown by himself, his mother wouldn't return his calls so either her phone was dead (something that seemed to happen a lot because she forgot about it) or she was pointedly ignoring him, which was highly unlikely.

            Blaine pulled out his phone for what must have been the millionth time, turning on the screen and actually praying for a missed call from anybody. He barely resisted the urge to throw it across the room when the lock screen remained blank. Blaine let out a frustrated noise, burying his fingers in his hair as he dropped his phone on the couch and sunk down beside it. He needed to do something before he went absolutely fucking insane.

            If Cecil found Kurt, he must have said something that scared him, right? Right. Because Kurt wasn't a baby that would just start shuddering and crying because he saw him, no matter what he did. No, this asshole said something to him. Did he bring up the text? He might have; why else would Kurt shake like a leaf unless he was threatened his death?

            Blaine picked up his phone again, unlocking it and scrolling through his contacts until he hit the name he was looking for and opened up a message. He needed to do something. He needed to figure something out so that he could get off of his ass and make use of his time and put a stop to this asshole that was tormenting his fucking boyfriend.

            It's Kurt, I got a new phone.

            Blaine stared at the words, finger hovering over the send key. Was that something that he would say? If Cecil brought up the text, Kurt obviously should have known about it but would have come across that he didn't when it was brought up. Blaine added to it.

            It's Kurt, I got a new phone. I forgot about the text because I was trying to put it out of my mind. Sorry.

            Was that better? God, if Kurt got a new phone, he wouldn't willingly give this asshole his number. But it was worth a shot. Blaine carefully hit Send. Blaine rubbed his palms over his knees, trying to wipe the sweat from them as he waited for a response. Would he even get one? His question was answered when his phone vibrated.

            well its a good thing that you remembered because you know what will happen if you tell anyone

            Blaine ground his teeth, sucking in a deep breath and trying to push his rage out; he had to keep it under control if he was going to take care of this.

            Yes, I know. Do you think that we could maybe meet up somewhere to talk about this? I've been thinking about what you said at lunch.

            That sounded reasonable, right? He obviously must have said something.

            i dont know what there is to talk about all i said was that you better watch your back but if you think that we need to discuss that then i dont see why we cant talk

            He threatened Kurt in public. He threatened his fucking life in public.

            I've just been thinking a lot about you after you left and I really think that talking would be good. Or ‘talking' if you will. I feel like I missed out on a lot of what you could have given me if I didn't run away that night. You just scared me.

            Blaine was going to throw up. He was going to throw up and also put a hole in the wall because this was disgusting. He was coming onto this guy in Kurt's name.

            youve changed your tune a lot havent you? ill bring the stuff if youre interested in trying again i promise it feels really good once you actually get into it

            Blaine bit his lip so hard the metallic taste of his blood touched his tongue.

            Definitely.

            do you know where the balto statue is in central park?

            Of course he knew where it was; Central Park was the part of New York that he spent most of his time in during his first year. He knew where almost everything was by memory. And if memory served him correctly, the Balto statue was surrounded by quite a bit of trees. Perfect.

            Yes, of course. Can we meet there at 7PM?

            It needed to be dark enough that anybody outside wasn't going to see Blaine beat the fucking living shit out of him.

            yeah that sounds good see you then

            It was 3PM now, that gave Blaine about an hour and a half to be pissed off, and another two and a half hours of city navigation.

            By the time 6:30 came around, Blaine was running up the stairs out of the subway, nearly knocking over some poor man carrying about four different suitcases for God knows what reason. He bolted across the road in front of a taxi that screeched to a stop a good three inches from him followed by a vaguely Hispanic shout and what must have been a rude name. He got into the park and to the statue in what must have been under two minutes if the way he ran said anything.

            Cecil wasn't there yet; good. Blaine slipped behind into the grass, backing up into one of the trees and dropping to sit in the dirt and wait. This guy was an idiot if he actually showed up thinking that Kurt was going to be there. Blaine was also kind of an idiot for assuming that he would.

            At 7:04 there were footsteps on the path. Their part of the park was also strangely abandoned today (probably for the best) and Blaine shifted into a crouch. He was a tall man; broad in the shoulders, with mahogany hair that sat sort of funny on top of his head. He was tanned lightly from what Blaine could tell under one of the street lights and when he turned to inch across the grass behind the statue, his eyes were blue. Part of Blaine knew that he didn't stand a chance against a man easily a lot taller and stronger than him, but the other part, the part that was doing this for Kurt, knew that he was going to damn try.

            “Who the fuck are you?” He had a voice that already grated on Blaine's nerves as he got up and strode out of the coverage of leaves.

            “Someone you're really going to wish that you didn't meet.”