Religion was an issue Kurt and Blaine carefully tip-toed around for the majority of their relationship.  Except, of course, when they were arguing about it.

Kurt was a hardcore atheist.  Not hardcore in the sense that he actively protested against religion, but rather in the sense that he didn’t like to hear about it, not ever.  In his opinion, the entire matter was useless—something for weak people to turn to when they couldn't face the realities of the real world.  And Kurt Hummel was anything but weak. 

He had tried God, once.  Eight years old, clinging tight to his mother’s clammy hand as he sat beside her bed.  He had listened to her moaning painfully in her sleep as he focused the best he was able on begging and pleading and bargaining for her to wake up.  She never did.

Blaine, on the other hand, was Catholic, and not even by force of habit.  His parent’s had taken him and his brother to mass when they were children only on Christmas and Easter, and by the age of ten Blaine had been wise enough to understand that it was mostly for show. 

But then he transferred to Dalton his freshman year of high school, eager to make a good impression, and Wes, an upperclassman, had taken him under his wing and become his first true friend.  It was Wes, devoted and serious in his love of God, whom Blaine had followed to Church every Sunday, and soon youth groups, worship services, and the rest.  After a few experiences something had sparked within Blaine, and he had decided for himself to be a Christian—flawed, but sincere in his desire to live in a manner that would be pleasing to his Heavenly Father.

When Blaine and Kurt had first begun dating, Kurt had told him outright that he was an atheist and expected Blaine to respect that.  Blaine tried to, he really did.  He just wanted so badly for Kurt to know the wonderful peace that his faith brought to him, the reassurance that no matter what he had to deal with in his day-to-day life, he had a loving Father that would always be there for him, and the promise of an eternity full of nothing but goodness and beauty. 

It was what kept Blaine going, especially after his earthly father—and mother—turned out to be less-than-thrilled when their son finally told them he was gay.

Gay.  It had come up in their arguments a lot, in the beginning, Kurt demanding to know how Blaine could possibly find so much comfort in a belief system that everyone knew condemned them because of something beyond their control.

“It’s not all like that, Kurt,” Blaine would try to explain.  “The scriptures are open to interpretation, and besides, there are many rules in the Bible that most Christians agree are not practical or moral enough to continue practicing!”

“Maybe so,” Kurt would counter, “but those views are more universally out of practice.  Nobody’s standing on a street corner with signs saying that God is for slavery, but there certainly are plenty of Christians openly against homosexuality!  Who think it’s our choice, or worse, that we’re possessed by demons or consorting with the devil!  And you’re willing to align yourself with those people?”

“Every religion can be used for hate, but God is really about love!  What I believe in is love, Kurt, regardless of who it’s between.  And while many of my faith are still evolving, there are plenty of Christians out there who recognize that and support our right to love!”

The argument always ended the same, with the boys agreeing to disagree, and to be truthful, it had been quite some time since it had cropped up in Kurt and Blaine’s lives.  As their relationship grew more serious, a new argument took its place.

“You want to be a father, Blaine.  But how will we ever agree in raising our children?  I want our son or daughter to believe in fairy tales, but not the kind that breed such hopeless dependence and close-mindedness.”

“Are you saying I’m close-minded?  How dare you!  You know me, Kurt, nothing could be further from the truth.  If anything, it’s you that’s closed off to new ideas.  How can you know you’re an atheist when you’ve never explored any other way of looking at the world?  I don’t want our children adopting such a cynical mindset because you can’t open yourself up to exploring one of the most meaningful parts of human existence!”

“Because I can’t bring myself to waste my time pondering questions with no answers when I have a real life to live?” Kurt countered.  “Just look at you, minoring in theology, and for what?  At least I devote my studies to things that will matter in my future career, that will pay our bills and feed our family!”

“Because fashion and theater are such meaningful, stable career choices,” Blaine said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Unfortunately, existential opinions weren’t the only problems cropping up in their relationship.  As they approached their later years of college, it became increasingly obvious that their priorities in life did not always line up.  Blaine saw their years in school as an opportunity to learn, grow, and explore (the reason he eventually settled for a major in liberal arts) before settling into what he hoped would be a rather ordinary life full of routine and simple pleasures.  He cherished dinners with their friends, relaxed evenings at home cuddling on the couch in front of the tv, morning jogs at the park.

Kurt, on the other hand, approached college as a first step to success, every minute a chance to plow towards his chosen career (or careers) with determined vigor.  He was constantly networking, cramming his electives full of classes he thought would further his chances, and, of course, working and auditioning on the side.  Blaine rarely saw him, but when he did, Kurt’s philosophy of work hard, study hard, play hard meant that they were always out and about, at theaters, clubs, and parties.

They were still in love, and clinging to that stubbornly while their differences were slowly driving them apart.  Something had to give.  And then, one night, something did in a way neither of them ever expected.

The club, one of New York City’s finest, was dark and in full swing that night as Kurt wondered somewhat desperately through the never-ending sea of bodies, searching for Blaine.  He had stepped away for a moment (ok, more like an hour) to speak with some friends from the theater club.  But now he had been searching for over twenty minutes, and this wasn’t like Blaine, not at all. 

He had left the other man alone at the bar, on his second drink, with the promise to return in fifteen minutes.   Blaine had been miserable.  He hadn’t wanted to come along in the first place, but Kurt had known that with time (and a little alcohol) he would manage to loosen up and have some fun… or so he had told himself at the time.  Blaine wouldn’t have left him here, would he?

Anxious and more than a little guilty now, he headed for the more private back rooms, fear clenching in his stomach.  He glanced through them quickly, doubtful that Blaine would have come back here.  He loathed PDA, whether it was him and Kurt or other couples.  It was one of the many reasons he hated clubs.

Kurt was about to leave the final room when a moan caught his attention.  His eyes beelined towards the sound, coming from a couple pressed up against the wall.

“Blaine?!” he cried out, anger and shock evident in his voice. 

Sure enough, a familiar face framed with mussed black curls peeked out from behind a larger man’s shoulder.  “Oh God, Kurt,” he said, pushing the other man away.  The guy groaned and shucked up his paints hastily before shooting both of them a glare and storming out of the room.  Blaine, too, was attempting to straighten himself up, but having achieved a base level of decency seemed to give up and sunk to the floor instead.  His words came out in a desperate rush as panic seized him. 

“I’m drunk, you know that Kurt, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Forget it,” Kurt said, trying desperate to hold back the furious rage that was building steadily, overwhelmingly within him.  His eyes scanned up and down Blaine’s body, crumbled and disheveled and small on the barren floor, disgusted. 

“I can’t do this now I… Blaine, I can’t.”  He turned around and walked out.

By the time Blaine had gotten himself together, hailed a cab, and made it back to their apartment, he found only a note.

*******

Kurt didn’t quite know what to do with himself, afterwards.  Being rather practical, he pushed his emotions aside until he found a new place to live.  That being done, he decided to allow himself a week to grieve.  He spent the time mostly in bed, barely eating, fitfully sleeping, sobbing over pictures and mementos and dreams of a future that was now dead. 

After that was over, he decided to celebrate his new-found freedom by indulging in all the things he felt he’d been denied due to his relationship with Blaine.  This included several parties and many one-nightstands.  The encounters were never satisfying, and he would quickly push the men out the next morning should they be stupid enough to stick around.

He managed to lie to himself for almost a month before he was forced to admit just how much he had lost.  Maybe there was value in weekends wasted lounging around the house, watching movies and making love and taking walks in the park, after all.  Maybe too much networking meant spreading himself too thin, and too much working meant burning himself out.  Maybe depending on somebody wasn’t always such a bad thing, after all, and maybe he had been stupid and blind and foolish not to allow himself to depend on Blaine just a little bit more.

If he had realized Blaine’s lazyness—his carefree, easygoing, trusting way of viewing life—had been the yin to Kurt’s yang, maybe they would have stayed home that night, making love in bed while Broadway’s greatest love songs played softly in the background.  Maybe Kurt wouldn’t have abandoned Blaine for over an hour, as he so often did, to ‘network’ with his ‘friends’, leaving Blaine alone to miss him and drink too much (as Blaine, if left unmonitored, so often did) and cheat on Kurt. 

Who knew that there was such a thing as too much ambition, too much independence and hard work?

Blaine did, Kurt thought sadly to himself.  But now Blaine was gone.

That fall, Kurt’s senior year, he signed up for a religious studies class.  It wasn’t theology, he knew, but Kurt also knew that that wouldn’t really matter to Blaine.  He would open himself up, if only a little.  It wasn’t nearly enough, and it was certainly too little, too late—but somehow it seemed a first step towards the atonement he so desperately craved.

*******

Blaine didn’t quite know what to do with himself, afterwards, so he let himself break.  He certainly couldn’t go running after Kurt and beg for forgiveness, as he ached so badly to do.  He didn’t deserve Kurt, didn’t deserve his forgiveness after what he had done.  His second instinct was to lose himself in drink, but no, that was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. 

So Blaine did the only thing that made sense at the time: he threw himself into bed, and he stayed there for a long, long time.  The days crawled by or flew, Blaine having no sense of them, until at long last an alarm sounded.  Blaine shook himself out of his self-imposed stupor, reaching over to shut it off and realizing what the sound must mean.  It was a Sunday.  It must be; Blaine hated early morning classes and so always set his schedule so that the school day started late enough that he could sleep in as much as he wanted.  Sundays were the only exception, the only day for which Blaine had a pre-set alarm.

Only half-aware he was doing so, Blaine dragged himself out of bed, showering and pulling on clothes robotically.  Soon enough, he found himself standing in front of the Church he attended every week.  He walked in, quickly spotting an empty seat among the crowded room and falling to his knees in front of it.  Yes, this was what he needed—prayer, closeness, dependability.  Blaine needed God.  He pushed aside the nagging thoughts in the back of his head that insisted he needed Kurt, too.  He didn’t deserve Kurt, not anymore, and could never expect the man to forgive him.  Only the Lord’s unwavering graciousness was big enough to forgive Blaine’s sins.

He didn’t take communion.  It wouldn’t be right to do so this week, but Blaine promised himself he would come back on Tuesday for confession.

After Sunday, Blaine set himself a strict schedule, one that Kurt would have (mostly) approved of.  He attended classes with a new focus and devotion, studying hard and even managing to bring his already-high GPA up a little more.  He got a job that filled most of his free time, choosing to be a barista at a small coffee shop that was on his daily route.  When Blaine’s time wasn’t consumed by work or school, he threw himself into studying the Bible.  Eventually, he kicked it up a notch by joining a Bible study group, where he made new friends for the first time in a long time.

Blaine Anderson turned to God, a little more desperately than ever before.  Despite all he had been through, and his persistent inability to forgive himself, Blaine found a way to make peace with his past and the mistakes he had made.  After working hard, he felt good about his life, but he didn’t feel right.  Right was the perfect word for the perfect feeling he had only ever found in Kurt’s arms and by his side.  Blaine would never feel right again, but he had made peace with that.

It was two years later, sitting in Church as he did every Sunday, when Blaine was inspired to make the decision that would change his life.  With Kurt long out of the picture, it was hardly a sacrifice.  Soon, Blaine moved back to Ohio.  He didn’t look back.  

 *******

It was a sunny, vibrant Autumn day when it happened, completely ordinary and completely unexpected.  Kurt Hummel was back in Lima to visit his father for the week, and decided to stop by for a coffee at the Lima Bean for nostalgia’s sake.  And there he was, sitting with a book and a steaming cup in the corner.  Blaine Anderson.  Kurt was about to turn around and walk back through the door when the other man looked up, suddenly, and met his eyes.  The shock was evident on Blaine’s face as he stood rather hastily, and Kurt’s feet were moving forward without his approval, drawn to the handsome, dark-haired man.

Blaine himself looked much the same as ever, but Kurt could read his age in his eyes and in his clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a faded blue polo.  Not at all on par with his old standard of style, but he still looked beautiful.

“Hi,” Kurt said a little awkwardly after standing there a moment.  Why are you here?

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sounding unsure himself.  “How are you?”

“Good!  I mean I’m… good,” he finished lamely then added a hasty “how are you?”

“I’m... this is so stupid.  Please, sit down, catch up with me if you have a moment?”

“I do,” Kurt replied simply, sinking down into the seat next to him as Blaine again sat in his own.  “This is a surprise.”

“Yeah.  A good surprise?  I never thought I’d see you again, honestly, after you…. left.”

“If we’re really being honest, back then I never intended to see you again.  But I was a little… shocked when you didn’t try to contact me, after.”

“I had no right to,” Blaine said, hanging his head, “not after what I’d done.”

“What you did was wrong,” Kurt conceded.  “But I can see now that I did a lot of things wrong, too.   That’s all in the past now.  I forgave you a long time ago.”

Blaine’s eyebrow quirked a little at that, but he was quick to cover his reaction.  “It’s good to hear you say that,” he said earnestly.  “But please, tell me about you?  What do you do now?  Is there anybody… special, in your life?”  Blaine cringed a little at that last question, but he had to know.

Kurt offered him a small smile.  “I work mostly as a costume designer for various shows, still in NYC, but I do audition myself from time to time.  And no, there’s no one special.  There hasn’t been anyone important for a long time.”  Not since you, Kurt wanted to add, but bit his lip instead.  “I’m just in town for the week, visiting my father.”

“How is he?” Blaine asked, feigning ignorance.  He knew very well how Burt was, they had dinner nearly every week.

“He’s good,” Kurt responded, more comfortable with this line of questioning.  “His health’s held up pretty well these last few years; we’ve been lucky.  Carol and Finn are doing well, too.  Finn’s engaged now.”

“To Quinn, yes, I think I read that somewhere in the paper.”

“So you live around here, do you?” Kurt couldn’t help but pry.

“Yeah, I have for about three years now.”

“Are you happy here?  Is it what you want?” Kurt asked before he could stop himself.  “I’m sorry, I’m overstepping.  That’s none of my business, now.”

“No, it’s fine.  And yes, I’m very happy.”  Lie, his brain practically screamed at him, but he shut it away.  “It’s a quiet life, but a good one.”  A lonely one, Blaine thought to himself.

“Do you… have someone special?  Someone to share it with?”

Blaine looked down at his hands, knowing this was his chance.  “No,” he answered simply, folding his hands together and gripping tightly.  He couldn’t do this.  “I’m sorry Kurt, I can’t,” he said, standing hastily.  “I have to go.”

“Wait, Blaine, don’t,” Kurt pleaded, and Blaine spun around in spite of it all, a few steps away from the table now.  “Have dinner with me?”  Kurt was grasping at straws, feeling desperate to make the other man stay.  “Please just… don’t leave.”

“Like you left me?” Blaine couldn’t help but snap.  He regretted it instantly.  “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair.  Kurt could tell, seeing that, that he was nervous.  Finally, Blaine met the other man’s eyes again, a sad resolve lingering there.  “I can’t have dinner with you, Kurt.  Not… like that.  But come with me, I’ll explain, just… not here.”

Kurt gave him a confused look, wanting to read the answers in his face, but Blaine had already turned away, continuing to walk to the door.  Kurt followed behind him.  He felt a little lost, but he couldn’t let this—couldn’t let Blaine—walk away from him again.