Klaine Advent

05 – Escape

Blaine sees Kurt's pained expression from across the room and decides to take pity on his husband. Blaine may not be a current NYADA student, but he remembers the false smiles and polite hellos all in the name of networking.

He also remembers the overly inflated egos.

“Kurt, there you are,” Blaine smoothly interrupts the monologue from the long-haired classmate standing beside Kurt, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist, “I was looking for you; we're going to have to head out soon if you don't want to be late for that meeting, remember?”

“Of course!” Kurt's voice is a fraction too high, betraying his relief, but Blaine doubts his (former) conversation partner notices. “Let's go dig out our coats. Oh –” Kurt turns back in feigned surprise, “I'm sorry, Isaac, but we have to go…”

Kurt really is an amazing actor; Blaine almost believes him. He ducks his head to hide his smile. The classmate – Isaac – accepts the tale, offering a polite and somewhat haughty farewell before stepping away and drawing some other unfortunate student into conversation.

“Not having fun?” Blaine teases as he and Kurt make their way through the crowd, heading for the empty classroom commandeered to hold coats.

Kurt offers a half-hearted glare. “As if you didn't know already.” Kurt sighs, muttering about the pointlessness of socials after concerts. “Thank you for the interruption. Although a meeting, really? I expected my NYU enrolled husband to come up with better.”

Blaine smiles as they enter the designated coat room. “I could,” Blaine muses, digging through a pile to unearth his black pea coat, “but we actually do have a meeting.”

A small shout of triumph from across from him lets him know Kurt's been successful too, and even the ensuing grumblings about wrinkles and lint can't damper his mood. Kurt stops suddenly, leaving his lament about getting white fuzz of black wool unfinished. “We have a meeting? After 9 on a Friday night?”

“We do,” Blaine confirms, helping Kurt slip into his coat, “so we should probably get going.”

“Blaine,” Kurt tightens his grip on Blaine's hand, “I'm tired. Our pre-performance rehearsal was awful – you have no idea. And the concert may have been fine, but you know how much I hate these socials. I really just want to go home,” a pause, “is there a reason you didn't mention this meetingbefore now?”

“I didn't know we had it.”

Kurt glares. “You're being irritatingly vague,” he whines, “and if you didn't know, can't you just move it so we can go home?”

“Nope,” Blaine makes sure to draw out the word, keeping his hand wrapped around Kurt's as they finally exit the building. “I promise you'll like it, though.”

He hopes Kurt will like it. It had come to him suddenly, as he'd made his way to save Kurt from the toilsome conversation. It had seemed perfect, but now, with Kurt pouting (adorably, if Blaine's being honest) Blaine feels a flicker of apprehension.

“I –”

“If you –”

A beat, and then Blaine shakes his laughter, hears Kurt doing the same beside him. They catch their breath at a crosswalk minutes later, and Kurt nods for Blaine to go first.

“I don't want to force you,” Blaine comments, “if you really don't want to go, we can just head home instead.”

“No,” Kurt briefly tightens his hold on Blaine's hand, “you have me curious, now. But if I don't like it, you're on dish duty for two weeks.”

“Fair enough,” Blaine agrees, smiling as they cross the street. They walk in silence for several minutes, until he hears Kurt give a small gasp from beside him.

“Blaine, are we –”

“Do you know what I remember best about after I first moved to New York? That day when Rachel wouldn't stop practicing and Santana was threatening murder and we just walked out because we couldn't handle it anymore? And we just kept walking, trying to escape the madness and found –”

“– the best milkshakes in New York City.” Kurt finishes, turning to Blaine with a wide smile.

“Ever after,” Blaine doesn't finish the sentence, knows Kurt will understand, “I never told them about it. I liked that it was our place.”

“Santana always thought we were sneaking off to a motel,” Kurt laughs, “and Rachel couldn't believe that I had a place in the city she didn't know. Well,” Kurt shakes his head, “she couldn't believe it was decent, especially when I wouldn't tell her where it was.”

Blaine feels his eyebrows raise in shock. “You never told her?”

“No. It was our place. It still is, actually. I couldn't go back by myself,” Kurt admits, the words a soft murmur, “I just –” Kurt shrugs, “It didn't seem right.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, hurrying a bit when the small twenty-four hour diner finally comes into view up head. “But after tonight I thought you looked like you could use a milkshake.”

“So that's our meeting?”

“Disappointed?”

Kurt stops, and Blaine hurries to compensate for the pull on his arm, ending up inches away from his husband. Judging from Kurt's sly smile, he doesn't mind; granted, Blaine only gets a glimpse of the smile before he's pulled in for a kiss. “Never.”

They enter the diner moments later, and Blaine can't help but smile. There are places in New York that he'll never visit again due to bad memories, but this place –

“So imagine my surprise when I get a text right when my shift ends, telling me to stop by for a pre-homework respite.”

“Kurt, I got in! You're looking at the newest member of the Chamber Singers!”

“We're never leaving,” Kurt leans into Blaine from where they're sharing the booth, ignoring Blaine's snort of laughter. “I'm serious; we can get sleeping bags or something. But I'm not dealing with one more night of explosion of egos in that loft.”

– this diner had been an oasis of calm (and ice cream) in their increasingly hectic lives.

“So I don't have to do the dishes for the next two weeks?” Blaine questions as he leads Kurt to their – thankfully empty – booth. He doesn't recognize the waitresses behind the counter, but the décor hasn't changed, is still an eclectic mix of 50s era records and more modern lyrics painted on the walls.

“Not if you remember my favorite milkshake.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “As if I'd forget anything about you.”

Kurt opens his mouth to reply, but the waitress arrives then, and Blaine places their order. He offers Kurt a wink as he orders Kurt's Mocha-Espresso shake, complete with whip cream and a cherry.

“Okay,” Kurt laughs once the waitress steps away, “Obviously you remember everything.”

“Just facts about my husband,” Blaine teases, “with some trivia to keep things interesting.”

“Of course,” Kurt agrees before turning serious and reaching for Blaine's hand. “Thank you, though, for this. It's wonderful; exactly what I needed.”

“Ice cream at ten at night?”

“You think you're funny,” Kurt mutters, “you're lucky I love you.”

“I know I am,” Blaine replies, matching the serious tone Kurt had set moments before. “I know. And I love you too.”

He pulls Kurt in for a quick kiss then, and pretends he doesn't hear the waitress's squeak of excitement.

Kurt's more important anyway.