I am vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right, I swear Im right, I swear I knew it all along, and I am flawed - but I am cleaning up so well - I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself.

Vindicated – Dashboard Confessional

Blaine woke with the alarm he had set on his phone.  That was a start.  He was still here.  He was still in the room he'd gone to sleep in.  He got up and decided to change his t-shirt for a shirt open at the collar, no bow-tie.  He grabbed his sunglasses, keys, violin, and wallet, then headed out to Callbacks.  Refusing to overthink things.  Refusing to think.

The place was heaving and he seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, male and female.  He spotted Santana who whistled him over.  He replied with a smile and made his way towards the group consisting of friends and ex-companion-and-love-of-his-life.  Santana raised an eyebrow at the violin case then passed him a drink that smelt strongly of alcohol.

            ‘It's dark rum and pineapple.'  She winked at him then downed hers.

            ‘Hey, Blaine!  What's in the case?'  Rachel asked him leaning across the table, her décolletage directly in his eye line.

            ‘Violin,' he replied with a wink as he took a cautious sip of the golden drink.  It was surprisingly good.

            ‘You know, pineapple is supposed to have a positive effect on the taste of your man juice.'  Santana said, winking at Kurt who had not said a word and seemed to be deep in thought.  Blaine laughed at Santana's comment.

            ‘Odd, but true.'  He confirmed, his eyes flashing with mischief.  Rachel choked on her drink.  No reaction from Kurt.

            ‘So, Blaine.  I believe you promised me a duet.'  Santana grabbed his hand and led him onto the stage, relieving him of his violin as she did so.

            ‘I didn't know Blaine played the violin!'  He heard Rachel hiss to Kurt as he followed Santana away from the table.  He didn't catch whether or not Kurt replied.  He knew this Kurt hadn't known either.  It was odd, but though he felt like Kurt and he had known everything about each other there was a shocking amount they still had not known.  He was curious as to their reaction when they heard him play, but there would be time for that later.  It had not escaped him that Adam had not shown up - he must have had a discussion with Kurt which would explain the latter's mood.

            ‘Your lead, stud.'  Santana winked at him.  Blaine laughed as Santana took a microphone and handed him a second. 

            ‘What happened to ‘hobbit'?'

            ‘You tell me.  I think you left that Lima looser in Ohio.'

The music started and Blaine supressed a chuckle.  The months of live performing he had done in the other New York, the intensive voice training after the attack, the confidence he'd gained he dredged up and fed on.  He was serenely calm, so utterly prepared for this.  He smiled.  This would be interesting.

Blaine owns the stage and Santana responds fluidly.  They dance as one responding to each other – a casual observer would swear they had rehearsed this. 

Their rendition of Lessons in Love (All Day, All Night) by Neon Trees ended and Santana turned to smile at Blaine.

            ‘You got some moves that don't make you look like an awkward manchild.  What else have you been hiding short stuff?'  Blaine threw Santana one of his blinding smiles.  He can barely hear her over the noise of the applause they have generated.

            ‘That would be for me to know and you to find out.'  He has to shout to be heard.

            ‘Oh, no you don't.  You and me - we are going to have a discussion, Warbler boy.'

            ‘What could you possibly want from me?'  He handed the mic back to the sound crew as he held out a hand to help Santana down from the stage.  She frowned at him and, ignoring his proffered hand, hopped down unaided.

            ‘What have you done with Blaine, because last time I saw you, you were a raspberry gelmet-wearing, cheating, moping, sorry excuse for a hobbit.  Suddenly you're in my city and you're this tiny compact sex god and you have moves that aren't solely reminiscent of 90s boy bands, with a voice that I swear just impregnated every man, woman and Rachel Berry in this hovel.  That doesn't happen overnight, and if I didn't know better I'd swear you'd suddenly gone straight when you ditched the dork look, or, maybe your ill-advised ‘hook up' banged some fashion sense into you.  So spill - what's with the personality and talent transplant?  Did you sell your fabulously sparkly bowtied soul?  What's your play here, because I just so happen to know that a certain friend of mine who has recently been through some crap, a large chunk of which was your fault, is back on the Gay market, and I swear to all that is unholy that if you are putting this on, and if this is some sort of twisted joke I will end you.'

            ‘Wow.  Where did that come from?  And, no - I am not hiding anything.  This is who I am.  This is who I have always been it just took some time for me to find me.  To stop defining myself as belonging to someone else, to stop my life being about making other people happy, to stop worrying if everyone likes me all the time.  I had to lose everything to get here and now I'm finally comfortable with being me.  I think you get what I'm saying more than anyone else in this room.  And with regards to your recently single ‘friend', that ball is not in my court.  I'm not you - this is not a game to me.'

            ‘Good to hear it.'  Seemingly satisfied she looped her arm through his and they made their way together back towards the table.   

            ‘Blaine Warbler!  Where did that come from?  I know the last time I saw you perform was under strained circumstances, but, Blaine, wow.  And coming from me that's saying something.  We have to perform together.  Even with all my professional training over the last year at NYADA I think you could actually keep up with me!  Oh!  Let's reprise ‘Don't You Want Me (Baby)' – remember last time we sang that?  That was the first time we had sung together and we killed it then.  Imagine how good we'll be now!'  Rachel was positively bubbling in such stark contrast to the intense silence emanating from Kurt.  Blaine smiled softly and went to retake his seat on the stool between the girls'.  He noticed Santana hadn't joined him – she was busy talking animatedly to a blonde woman who bore more than a passing resemblance to Brittany. 

            ‘Sure, we could do that if you'd like.'  He took another sip of his drink and took the opportunity to look at Kurt while ‘listening' to Rachel.  Kurt looked tired and stressed but not upset.  Certainly not heartbroken.  Blaine cringed inwardly – he knew what heartbroken Kurt looked like.  He was briefly overwhelmed by the urge to see the beautiful man across from him smile.  Truly smile like he had such a very long time ago.  He wondered whether getting Kurt to sing ‘Animal' would work again?  The irony of singing a Neon Trees song with Santana was not lost on him.  He felt someone elbow him and he realised Rachel had still been talking to him and seemed to have expected a response.

            ‘Blaine!'

            ‘Sorry.  It's been a long day.  Got lost in my thoughts for a moment there.'

            ‘I was saying that you should audition for the play I'm in.  The guy they've cast as the lead is good, but his voice is not as strong as mine and the director keeps telling me to tone it down!  You'd be perfect – you're not too tall so I wouldn't look tiny, and your voice is almost as good as mine now, and we know you can act so …'

His attention wavered again because Kurt was looking right at him.  Their eyes locked and the familiar tug was there – everything else fell away and there was Kurt and nothing else.  He knew without having to speak – Kurt was telling him they needed to talk.  He nodded slightly and stood in perfect synchronisation with Kurt.

                ‘Um… Rachel, would you excuse us for a minute?'

                ‘What?  Oh!  Sure.  I guess I'll watch the drinks and things.'

                ‘Thank you.'  Kurt had turned and walked out of the building so Blaine followed.  He remembered the last time he had left a club with Kurt and smiled inwardly.  Stepping out into the downpour outside he was glad again he no longer used gel like he used to.  He had no idea when the rain had started but the world outside was a dark torrent.  He spotted Kurt and walked towards him.  Without speaking they fell into step and walked quickly to the shelter of the mouth of the nearest subway entrance.  They stood, face to face in silence, listening to the roar of the falling water.  Blaine lost track of time just bathing in the heat emanating from Kurt.  Their eyes met again – warm amber locked with ice.

                ‘I can't do this anymore.'  Blaine was not wholly sure Kurt had spoken at first.

                ‘Do what, Kurt?'

                ‘This.  What is this?  As much as I hate to admit it, Santana was right.  We're not friends, Blaine.  We've not been friends since Dalton.  I'm not sure we've ever been friends.  Not really.'

                ‘I know.'

                ‘So what now?'

                ‘I ruled out my say in how this goes, Kurt.'          

                ‘I'm terrified, Blaine.'  Kurt broke eye contact and looked down at his shoes.

                ‘What of?'  Gentle, soft.  Blaine knows how this bit works.  He's lived through it three times now.  He gives Kurt the physical space he needs and waits.

                ‘You?  Me?  Us.  I wanted to hate you but I can't.  I tried to move on, but I couldn't.  I loved him.  But it wasn't enough.  He wasn't you.  We were perfect.  So perfect and we destroyed it.'

                ‘We had to grow apart to grow up, Kurt.  We had a teenage dream and it was beautiful but it was not an adult relationship.  It wasn't healthy.'

                ‘What happens now?'

                ‘What do you want?'

                ‘It's not going to be as easy as it was, is it?'

                ‘No.  We'll fight and we'll make-up and things will be tough.  And it will hurt because that's what happens when you love someone.  But the good times will make it worth it.'  Kurt looked up at Blaine's words.  Their eyes locked again – softer this time.

                ‘You have to learn to talk to me about the real stuff this time.  I won't let you distance yourself when you get scared.'

                ‘I won't let you change the subject when you don't want to argue.'

                ‘I want to trust you, Blaine.'

                ‘I could never do anything like that again, Kurt.'

                ‘I know.'  Kurt reaches out and brushes his fingers over Blaine's knuckles.  Blaine lets Kurt interlock their fingers.  ‘We're not going to rush back into this.  We're going to take it slow.  A lot has changed.  We've both changed.'

                ‘I want to get to know you again.'

                ‘I want to see you play the violin.  Since when do you play?'  Kurt smiled and Blaine laughed – he had been wondering when Kurt's curiosity would win out.

                ‘I started to learn when I was 6.  I also play drums, guitar, pretty much anything with strings actually.  You know about the harmonica and the piano, um… oh, and the saxophone.'

                ‘I feel like I should have known that.'  Blaine laughed again.  ‘What's with the new look?  Don't get me wrong – you look, well, gorgeous, but it's so different.  Everything about you is so different…'

                ‘I grew up, Kurt.'

                ‘I think we both have.  I am so sorry I didn't make time for you.  I've replayed the months before over and over – I knew how you felt about me moving on without you in New York and I did it anyway.  I didn't even try.  I'm so sorry, Blaine.'

                ‘That's then.  This is now.'

                ‘OK.  We should still talk about it.'

                ‘Maybe over coffee - somewhere warm and not in a filthy subway at,' Blaine glanced at his watch, ‘10pm?'  It was Kurt's turn to laugh.  ‘I've missed your smile.'  Kurt blushed.  ‘Come on, the ladies in your life will be wondering whether I've kidnapped you.  Santana has already accused me of stashing the real Blaine away somewhere.  I like my body parts attached, Kurt.'

                ‘She didn't!  Actually, I believe she probably did.  Oh, one last question, for now.'

                ‘OK.'

                ‘How did you afford to buy an apartment?'

                ‘I turned 18.'

                ‘You say that like it should mean something to me.'

                ‘I can't believe we've never had this talk…'

                ‘What talk?'

                ‘The money talk.'

                ‘Oh.'

                ‘Trust fund.'

                ‘Oh!  Oh…'

                ‘You're cute when you don't know what to say.'