Phoenix

            ‘What exactly was that, Blaine?'  June's eyes are narrowed and Blaine is so not ready for this discussion.  He feels as if he had been caught naked doing something he should not have been – hand fully and unmistakably in the cookie jar.  June reads something in his face and she purses her lips in response.

‘I'm sure I have no idea what you're implying.'  He may as well have had cookie crumbs around his mouth, and another two in his other hand.

            ‘Oh no?'  Her smile is a cat's.  ‘I know you're not asking me this but I'm telling you – you should stop playing with that boy.  Break it off with him.'

            ‘But…there's nothing to break.  Kurt and I are f–'

            ‘-Oh, spare me.  Blaine, I've been in and out of love more times than you've had breakfast.  You have to make a decision: are you going to settle, or, are you going to venture out into the known like a samurai and realise your full, full potential?'  She gives him a slow look-over before she continues and Blaine finds himself involuntarily straightening under her scrutiny.  ‘Douglas Chambers is a good match for you.  It is a name that opens doors and if you choose to go backwards I'm not sure I can help you.  Now – I'm not saying you shouldn't perform this last time with that boy.  But this will be the last time, Blaine.  Your showcase will be your ticket to greater things.  You do still want that, right?'

            ‘Yes, of course, yes –'

            ‘-Then that's the last of it.  Now go back out there and turn on that charisma of yours.  Show me I'm making the right decision here.  I just want to shine a light on what the world should see.'

-+-

            Kurt spins 180 degrees when the door re-opens suddenly behind him and an oddly determined Blaine stalks back into the room.

            ‘What happened?'

            ‘It's nothing; June just wanted to go over the seating arrangements.'  Kurt shoots Blaine a look, but the other man is already shuffling through sheet music on top of the piano; eyes downcast and brow furrowed.

Kurt studies Blaine for a moment as the other man busies himself but makes no move to actually restart their rehearsal.  A part of Kurt is glad – he hates to admit it to himself but he is not wholly sure what just happened between them, and the fact that Blaine seems uncertain also is a small kind of comfort.  What he really needs right now is time to process, ideally with Blaine, and not to continue this sham practice session.

            ‘Do you want to call the rehearsal off?'

            ‘What?  No!'  At the sound of Kurt's voice the other man actually looks up for the first time since their warm-up had been interrupted.  Blaine runs a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes focusing on Kurt's.  ‘Look, I'm sorry it keeps getting…derailed.  No more interruptions, alright?'  Blaine's smile barely reaches his lips let alone his eyes and Kurt huffs, frowning in response.

            ‘It's not that… it's just…what's wrong, Blaine?  We promised to be open and honest with each other last night and I just keep getting this feeling that you're not telling me something –'

            ‘You still don't trust me do you?'  Blaine sighs deeply – he looks so tired all of a sudden.  ‘Kurt, this is not even about you, alright?  Just drop it and let's rehearse.'

            ‘No.  You know what – I…I thought after last night that things would be different.  I guess you had me fooled, yet again.  Enjoy your secrets, Blaine.  I'm out.  I don't need this.  I deserve better – you said so yourself.'  Kurt knows it is dramatic but he cannot help spinning on his heel and striding in the direction of the exit.

            ‘Kurt, don't…don't go, please.'  He hears Blaine move to follow him.  Perhaps it is that that causes him to pause.  He turns again slowly to find Blaine standing right behind him – so close; so painfully, exquisitely close.

            ‘Why?  Give me one good reason.' 

Blaine's eyes flicker from Kurt's eyes to lips and back again before he seems to think better of whatever he was about to do and takes an uncertain step backwards.

            ‘You know why, Kurt.'  His voice is an exhale.

            ‘You need me for this performance.  You said that already: I know.'  Kurt takes a step towards Blaine.  He half expects him to back away.  He half expects (needs/wants) him to crash their lips together.

            ‘Not that.'  Blaine's eyes catch Kurt's own again, holding them – the light that was there when they had been singing is missing now and he can almost see himself reflected they are that dark.

Kurt takes a breath.

            ‘Because: You Love Me.  You still love me, but you're still-'  Kurt's hand falters as he finds himself reaching to touch Blaine – whether to make sure he is real, anchor him, caress him, or strangle him Kurt is uncertain.   

            ‘-I promised we'd talk about it after rehearsal –'

            ‘-No.  You know what?  I think we're done here.  We're not going to get anywhere today with the duet now; not like this.  Come to the Loft – we should have it to ourselves.  Rachel and Doug are supposed to be -'

            ‘-How about my place?'

            ‘The penthouse that you share with-?'

            ‘-No.  My place.  Absolutely no one will be there: I have the only key.'

Kurt raises an eyebrow but before he can pose any further questions Blaine is back at the piano packing sheet music into his satchel. 

-+-

            ‘This looks a lot like 5th Avenue, Blaine…and I'm pretty sure that's your building.'  The taxi stops just outside and Kurt is about to shoot Blaine another of his looks when Blaine's

            ‘Do you trust me?'

catches him by surprise.

            ‘Who are you?  Aladdin?'

            ‘I can show you the world…'  Blaine waggles his eyebrows a little and Kurt finds himself laughing, caught up for a moment in memories of ridiculous duets back in Blaine's bedroom in Westerville a lifetime ago.  His breath catches a little in response – that was his Blaine right there: a little ridiculous and playful, not the strange, serious imposter he had begun to grow used to.

            ‘Oh, I'm sure you can, goof.'

He is grinning as he slides out of the taxi before Blaine can do something inappropriate and absurd like get the door for him (even if he would love that).  It is only when he is being ushered inside by a green velvet doorman that he realises he left Blaine to pay for the cab fare.

Blaine is soon back by his side (where he belongs) and Kurt finds himself following as they head to the ornate lift in a silence that prickles the air with static electricity.  The lift stops and Kurt follows Blaine towards a set of doors that he recognises from the previous time he had visited.  He is about to say something sarcastic when Blaine instead takes a sharp turn left and uses the key on a door that Kurt had previously ignored.

            ‘Guest apartment.'  Blaine offers by way of explanation.  ‘He…he gave it to me legally so I'd have my own place after I…after I fell out with my parents.  Sylvia (our housekeeper) had the only other key but I got it back while he was in China and I…'

Blaine is rambling; Kurt is dimly aware that Blaine is still talking, but he is too distracted by the magnificence of the place that he tunes out for a moment.  It is similar to the Penthouse proper in many ways; however, there is a fine layer of dust that plays testimony to the bit about the housekeeper. 

Only after the initial shock settles and Kurt slips back into his skin does he realise that Blaine has fallen silent.  Dragging his eyes away from the furnishings he manages to remind himself why he is presently standing in such majestic, if dusty, circumstances.

            ‘Sorry.'

            ‘It's fine, Kurt.'  A half-smile.

            ‘You never said.' 

            ‘It didn't really come up.'

            ‘No.  I suppose it didn't.'

Blaine holds out his hand and Kurt goes to take it before he realises that Blaine was in fact waiting to take Kurt's coat.  He cringes a little as he divests himself of the garment before masking his chagrin by making for the kitchen area.  Blaine moves like a shadow behind him and Kurt watches as Blaine brushes lightly passed him and sets about making coffee.

With Blaine distracted momentarily and Kurt is really free to look, he catalogues details about the other man and compares them to his internal notes.  Most glaring are the little changes – the things that can be easily emphasised or disguised by tailored clothes as desired.  Down to a simple (but elegant) shirt and divested of the layers of coats and vests that Kurt had started to grow accustomed to, he can see now that he was right: Blaine's back is broader; his hips perfectly narrow in contrast; his ass is firm and glorious.  Kurt loses himself in the last time he had run his hands over the defined planes of Blaine's chest and finds that he desperately needs to check that what his memory provides him with in that instant is an accurate portrayal.

He is brought abruptly from his fantasy when he notices the funny look Blaine is giving him from where the other man is now stood over in the open-plan living area.  Kurt swallows and, praying that his arousal is not too obvious in his skinny jeans, heads over to quickly take a seat on the sofa.

            ‘Are you alright, Kurt?'  Another small smile.

            ‘You promised you'd talk.'  Kurt covers.

Blaine squints slightly at him before taking a seat beside Kurt on the sofa - their thighs brush though the sofa is plenty big enough for three.  Dust motes, freed by the movement, dance around them - sparkling in the warm light that surrounds Blaine like a halo. 

            ‘About last night?'

            ‘Last night.'  Kurt parrots.  ‘I mean… the after-bit; not the bit where… when you got back.'

            ‘Adrian was there when I got in…it was…I want to say awkward but I don't think that really captures it.'

            ‘Were they…?'

            ‘Oh, no!  Nothing like that.  At least…I don't think so.  I mean – Adrian wants that.  It's obvious –'

            ‘-Maybe you should let him.'

            ‘Kurt, it's not that simple,' Blaine admonishes.

            ‘You keep saying that but it could be!'

            ‘You're saying I, what?  Say “sorry Douglas, we've had a swell time together.  Thanks for the ring and the apartment but I'm off to be with Kurt now.  Don't worry though – Adrian's right there waiting outside door number 2!”?' 

            ‘Well it makes it easier for you doesn't it?'

            ‘His father is dying, Kurt.  His father is really dying and I…I wasn't there for him when he needed me because I was with you.'

            ‘I wasn't there for Rachel because I chose you.'

            ‘Please don't…  That's not…'  Blaine's hand flutters to the back of his neck again as it had in the rehearsal room, squeezing slightly as if to alleviate an imagined pain as he stumbles through half-processed half-rejected thoughts.  ‘I'm trying… I'm trying to explain to you how utterly messed up this is – you said it should be simple.  I really wish it was but it isn't.'

            ‘You are not responsible for other people's happiness.  It is not your fault Douglas' father is dying; whether you were with him or not that would happen.  You can't marry someone because their father is dying.'

            ‘I know that.'

            ‘Do you?  Because all I hear at the moment is that he “needs you” and I don't.  Guess what, Blaine, that's a big ol' sign right there – I don't need you; I love you.  There is a difference.'

            ‘He loves me too, Kurt.'

            ‘He must do.'  Kurt knows he said the wrong thing the second he utters the last syllable.

            ‘What's that supposed to mean?'

            ‘Blaine, I just… I can't compete with this.  He can give you everything and all I can offer you is me.  If that's enough for you – well… I'm here.  I'm right here, and if that can be enough for you then I think we could really have another shot at this, because I love you exactly as you are.  I don't want you to change for me.  I don't want you to rescue me, or to save me because you did that already – you saved me, and I think you need me to do the same for you right now, Blaine.  So, like I said last night: I love you.  I love you enough to respect whatever choice you make but you do have to choose.'

-+-

            Across from him Blaine's eyes are shining.  They're both silent-crying and Kurt resents Blaine a little in that moment for not being an ugly crier – Kurt knows that he looks nowhere near his best; tear-stained and red-faced as he must appear.  Blaine's foot touches his and Kurt stares numbly at where their shoes meet across the concrete space between them.   

‘I love you, Kurt Hummel.  I have always loved you, and I think I always will.'

The words are everything he has longed to hear, and Blaine's voice reverberates through him, strong and firm.  Kurt glances up, but the other man makes no move to close the distance between them.  For a dreadful moment Kurt honestly fears he has finally lost his mind – surely they should be kissing?  That is how it works isn't it?  Had Blaine actually spoken or had it been a figment of his desperate imagination? 

Once, a long time ago, a younger Blaine had said the same words to him as they lay tangled in each other and the rumpled sheets of his bed.  Younger Kurt had been breathless in that moment; his reply a wordless kiss so deep he had lost all sense of where Blaine had begun and he had ended – a vain attempt to convey half-understood feelings that Kurt had honestly believed he would never experience first-hand. 

Cheeks newly, and endlessly wet, Kurt fists his eyes with the palms of his hands.  As they had before, words fail him – he wrestles with the sarcastic retort his self-defence mechanism provides him with, and is left only with the truth.

            ‘I want to kiss you so badly, Blaine.'

            ‘Please kiss me.'

            ‘We shouldn't.'

            ‘I know…'

            ‘What do we do?'

            ‘Honestly?  I have no idea.'

            ‘You love me.' 

            ‘I love you.'  The confirmation is devastating.

            ‘I l-love you t-too.'  It feels so far from a victory – he is drowning and Blaine has the only life raft.  No: he is the only life raft. 

Kurt's breath comes in short staccato sobs; his vision tunnelling into greys and blacks.  He is falling now; down into a darkness that is writhing, rising up to swallow him whole.  He cannot hope to survive this storm within him. 

After his vision he loses his hearing to the roaring pounding of the waves.  He is a thousand pieces of flotsam.  Blaine is a tidal wave.

Blaine is a tidal wave and Kurt wants to surrender.

‘Please…' don't marry him.  The words die in Kurt's strangled throat.  He coughs air into his burning lungs and forces himself to breathe…in…

…out…

…in…

…out…

…in…

…out...

When he looks up his vision swims back to the surface.

Blaine's head is bowed, his hands loosening dark curls as long fingers worrying his scalp.  Within the nest of dark waves a glint of silver and gold turns Kurt's stomach and he stands suddenly; the cold metal railing biting his fingers as his knuckles turn white.

‘I need some air.'  His voice grates, lagging his jerking body as he flees down the fire escape, bursting out into the stifling New York air and barely missing a passing couple.

Blaine clatters after him.

            ‘Kurt!  Stop!  Wait!  Kurt, please!'

Laughing uncontrollably he spins.  Blaine's hands bracket him, fingers curled into the fabric of Kurt's blazer hard enough to crease.  He is not sure whether it is Blaine shaking, himself, or both of them together.

            ‘I am such an idiot.'  

            ‘What?'  Blaine squints at him as if Kurt is speaking another language all of a sudden.  Perhaps he is.

            ‘I love you and you love me, but it is impossible, because you are going to marry someone else.  Not me.  Its funny really; who could love me?  Why should you choose me?  What have I ever given you? 

‘I feel like Im sinking, Blaine…  Why do I never win?  I have had to fight for everything I've ever had.  When is it my turn?  Rachel…Rachels got h-her dream - shes on Broadway!  She's made it.  She's on Broadway right now - that's her face on the giant billboard above your head!  And Santana...well shes Santana...  And I'm…I'm just the “quirky” best-friend who always drops everything for everyone else.  When's my break?  When does something go my way? 

‘You!  You have June...  You have D-Douglas.  What could I possibly offer you that can compare?  Answer me that one because I have no idea what I'm doing, Blaine. 

‘It hurts. It hurts so much.

‘I should have known better.  Why am I even here?  It's never going to happen for me -' 

            ‘-Stop, Kurt.  Please, stop-'

            ‘-You have no idea.  No idea at all how hard I have to work to get anything!  Everything just happens for you!-'

            ‘-You know that's not true-'

            ‘-How can you tell me you love me while wearing someone else's ring?  Who does that?-'

            ‘-It was a gift-'

            ‘-An Engagement Ring, Blaine!  Another man's engagement ring!'    

‘If you can't call it what it is you really                                   ‘You want me to take it off?  Fine!

‘should wonder whether you're ready.                                    ‘There!  Are you happy?

‘It is on your finger mocking me!                                 ‘Do you have any idea

‘It keeps staring at me and it's laughing at me.             ‘how insane you sound right now?

 ‘Maybe I am insane, Blaine!                                      

‘I'd have to be, right?  That's the                                ‘You're twisting my words again!

‘only logical explanation                                             ‘You're not even listening to me! 

‘that could cover it                                                      ‘Did you ever think

‘because all I want to do right now is                          ‘that maybe the reason this is all so

‘fuck you                                                                      ‘fucked

‘and I really don't know how to stop!'                         ‘is 'cause we never learnt when to stop?

                                                                                           ‘You - wait…what?'

Blaine's eyes are wide.    

‘Kiss you; I want to kiss you.'  Kurt's pulse is in his tongue.

‘That's not what you said.' 

They had been shouting in the street outside a theatre - making a spectacle, and all of a sudden Kurt is horrifyingly aware that they have an audience.

‘People are staring.'

‘Let them. You said you want to fuck me.'

‘People are staring, Blaine.'  Blaine's eyes are viper pits; marble-cold, dark and unyielding.  A shiver shoots up Kurt's spine; his hair feels as if it is standing on end. 

He takes a breath. 

Then another. 

Blaine growls deep in his chest – Kurt feels it in his bones – and somehow it gives him strength.  He pushes the other man hard backwards into the wall of the theatre behind him.  Kurt's hands bracket Blaine's head, his face is inches away from the other man's and he barely recognises his own voice. 

‘Yes, Blaine.  I want to fuck you.  I want to fuck you until you scream my name.  I want to fuck him out of you.  Is that what you want to hear?'

            ‘Break it up!  Go on!  Take it somewhere else!'  Someone pulls Kurt off Blaine, pushing him hard and causing him to stumble backwards into something (someone) soft.

            ‘How dare you touch him?' 

Kurt glances up to see Blaine squaring off to a man at least twice his size and the image is instantly, terrifyingly sobering.  Frantically apologising to the innocent woman he had collided with he attempts to grab Blaine's arm before the interloper's friends decide to get involved.  He can already hear shouts calling for police.  Kurt gropes for Blaine's hand, latches and runs.

-+-

            They stop running when they realise there is no one is actually chasing them.  Kurt's fringe flops into his eyes with sweat and he half collapses against the nearest wall pulling Blaine with him.  They rest, breath synching, slowing together until the laughter starts; manic and uncontrolled.  It rolls between them for what seems like hours.  Each time it peters out the other triggers another fit until both finally stop and settle into stunned silence.

Eventually, Blaine gently tugs Kurt's hand and Kurt follows automatically.

            ‘Where are we going?'

            ‘Just follow me, okay?  I think we need to get some…tension out of our systems and I know just the place.'

            The Industry Bar is packed but somehow Blaine manages to get them in.  Kurt sticks close behind as Blaine makes his way through towards a cordoned-off area – a nod from a shirtless man who appears to be staff, and Kurt finds himself settled into a private nook with Blaine tucked into his side.

Kurt expects Blaine to try to get him drunk - he is almost disappointed when Blaine orders a soft drink for himself and quietly follows suit.

Seated in silence Kurt watches Blaine as the other man chats jovially with the waiter – they obviously know each other and the fact irks Kurt more than he would like to admit.  He must have been frowning because when Blaine turns back to him his eyes show only concern.

            ‘Are you…are we alright?'

            ‘Honestly?  I have no idea.  What just happened?  Did we really just have a fight in the street?'

            ‘I think we did, yeah…'

            ‘Wow.'

            ‘Uh…yeah.'

            ‘So…um…you come here often?'  Blaine's face cracks into a dazzling smile as he laughs.  It is frighteningly contagious and Kurt finds his own smile reflecting Blaine's.  ‘I just meant – the waiter – you know each other?'

            ‘Yeah.  He's a friend of Charl… of mine.'  The waiter returns with their drinks and a tombstone grin for Blaine.  ‘Felix, this is Kurt.'

            ‘Charmed, I'm sure.' 

Kurt finds his free hand clasped strongly in a strong, dark paw before he is once again released and the other man leaves them again.

The coloured block lights behind the bar pulsate, and Kurt slowly realises that his other hand is still firmly clasped with Blaine's.  He idly traces his thumb over Blaine's and feels Blaine's hand tighten slightly in response.

From the booth Kurt can see the writhing bodies on the dancefloor and he can see the attraction of letting the beat carry you away.  Thumb still tracing Blaine's, Kurt turns slightly to look at the man beside him.  Blaine's head is bowed again as if deep in thought.

Kurt's free hand comes up of its own accord, and tilts Blaine's head up forcing him to look back.  He can feel Blaine's soft breath against him; his soft lips are so close to skin that he can feel them when the other man finally speaks.

            ‘For what it is worth – you were right, Kurt'

            ‘I usually am.  What about in particular?'

            ‘I can't marry Douglas.  It wouldn't be fair…it wouldn't be fair on either of you…or me.  I'm going to talk to him.  Tonight.  It's been…it's been on my mind for a while but everything just happened so quickly and then…  I think…I think I'm going to ask him to call it off and see where that leaves us.  I don't think it will come as a surprise.'

            ‘Oh.'

            ‘You…You are wrong about something.  You are worth everything, Kurt.  There's not a man out there who would be stupid enough to let you go after finding you.  Please believe that.'

            ‘Why do I feel like there's a “but” here…?'

            ‘But – I don't want to rush into anything.  I don't think I can, Kurt.  My relationship with Douglas…I do love him.'

            ‘You're not in love with him.'

            ‘No.  I'm not.'

            ‘You love me.'

            ‘Yes.  But I need time.  I want to be sure I'm making the right choices for me.  I don't want to hurt you again, Kurt.  I couldn't live with myself.'

            ‘I…I understand.'

            ‘I don't expect you to wait for me - I have no idea how long I need.  Months?  Years?  I may never be ready…  I don't know where to start but I need to try to make this all right again.  He does need me, Kurt.  He's not strong like you are.'

            ‘I'm not as strong as you think I am.'

            ‘You are all I think about.'

            ‘You're all I think about too.'  Kurt swallows heavily against the dry lump forming in his throat.      ‘So what now?  I just get on with my life?  I try to move on again with the knowledge that one day you might be ready to try us again?  What am I supposed to do with that?  I…we have a duet together in three weeks…'

            ‘We act like the professionals we portend to be and we go on with the show.'

            ‘How can you even say that to me?'   

            ‘There is nothing I would like more in this world, Kurt, than for us to be able to say we'll try being friends again.  But it doesn't work.  It never works.'

            ‘It has to.  It has to because there is no way I am letting you go through this on your own - do you hear me, Blaine Anderson?  You are not alone.'

            ‘I love you, Kurt.'

            ‘I love you too.  I'm staying right here, in whatever capacity you feel comfortable with for as long as you need.  Okay?  I'm here.  I'm not going anywhere.  I'm here.'

-+-