8. Delayed Penalty

January passes by in a blur of long days and short nights. Kurt has just about had it with the wide-eyed intern currently trying to figure out how to start up a conference call and he hopes he was never that irritating when he first started out. He has deadlines and meetings to attend, interviews to sift through, and photos to review. It's almost everything he's wanted since he first stepped into the Conde Nast building, and Anna Wintour herself couldn't make him leave without killing him first.

The cattiness of his coworkers, men and women always dressed to impress with personalities overflowing with subtle aggression, he can handle. He's okay with the hours and demands, works with them, around them, and makes himself available when the opportunity presents itself to shine as bright as he knows he can.

The tough part is putting his real dreams on hold, waiting for the right moment to present itself. The sketch pad in the bottom drawer of his desk has been filling up over the months, accessories and suits and dresses that are meant to flatter rather than turn someone into a walking cartoon, cinched at the waist and unable to walk like a normal human being. Kurt knows his drawings are good, he's not modest enough to ignore that, but the time hasn't been right to show them off. Not yet.

He taps his pen impatiently on the folder in front of him, waiting for his phone to light up with the call he's already late for, and he wonders if it's really that hard to push a few buttons. He scowls at the flustered intern, and then his gaze drifts to the thick silver and black cardstock sitting against the base of his lamp.

Vogue.com is having an exclusive employees-only party, and he had been encouraged to bring a date. He would love for Blaine to join him. They could wear suits and have cocktails and he could show Blaine off, not as a professional athlete, but as the man that has completely flipped his world upside down and back again.

Weeks have passed since Christmas, and since then they've only seen each other twice, once for only one night. Valentine's Day had came and went, too, and while Kurt loved the large bouquet sent to his office, as well as their extremely hot Skype session, it wasn't the same as actually going on a date with his boyfriend, who had been in Dallas at the time.

He's starting to plan his outfit for the party when his phone buzzes.

Blaine: Heading out now. Call you when I get done. Wish me luck! Love you.

Kurt reads the text a few times, sets his phone down, and rubs his hand over his face. He has been looking forward to Blaine's meeting with his coach and team manager just as much as he's been dreading it. The possibility of Blaine moving to a different team looms over their relationship like a storm cloud, and while there is a chance that Blaine may move closer to New York, there is just as much of a chance that he'll move farther away. Kurt wants to stay positive, needs to if he wants to stay sane, but the reality of the situation is that he doesn't know what will happen. Neither of them do. And that absolutely terrifies him.

He picks the phone back up and replies quickly. Blaine may even end up staying in Columbus, and while it's not the most convenient, they've figured out how to make it work and can keep going as long as they need to. At least, Kurt hopes they can.

Kurt jumps when his desk phone finally rings. He takes a deep breath and answers, setting aside his thoughts for later.

They can wait. He can wait.

~^*^~

The day drags on and by the time Kurt walks into his apartment, his nerves are shot. He hasn't heard back from Blaine yet, even though it's been a few hours since they last texted. If it wasn't for his own amazing self-control, Kurt's sure his fingernails would be down to bloody nubs. He tosses his bag and jacket onto the couch and heads for the fridge. After staring at the shelves for a solid three minutes, he pulls out half a cheesecake and grabs a fork.

Kurt is half-way through the cheesecake and a rerun of Jersey Shore when Rachel comes home. He's not even ashamed of his state, having spent many nights dealing with her sobbing into his shoulder because something earth-shattering happened, like when she was cast in the chorus of NYADA's production of Chicago in her freshman year.

"What's going on?" Rachel asks, carefully setting her purse down and watching Kurt closely. "You're getting crumbs on your shirt."

"M'fine," Kurt grumbles around another mouthful. He brushes at his chest, but he's been hand washing his clothes since he was ten, so a couple crumbs are no match for his exceptional laundering skills.

"Uh huh. Okay, Hummel, start talking," Rachel demands, sitting next to Kurt and snatching the cake pan from his grip. She sets it on the coffee table out of his reach, and Kurt stares at it for a few seconds before sighing deeply. He knows Rachel won't leave him alone until he tells her what's bothering him, since she is clearly a pint-sized menace put on the planet to torture him.

"It's Blaine. I haven't heard from him since - " Kurt stops when Rachel grabs onto his arm in a way that he thinks is supposed to be comforting but is actually cutting off circulation to his hand alarmingly quickly.

"You broke up, didn't you?"

"What? No!" Kurt cuts her off. "Thanks for that vote of confidence, by the way." He reaches forward with his fork, but Rachel smacks his hand away. He glares at her and continues, "He met with the team people today. They were supposed to talk about his future and whether he is going to stay in Columbus or not. I don't really know the details, but... what if he has to move farther away? What if he ends up in Canada? I can't go to Canada, Rachel. I've seen wildlife shows. They have mooses. Meese? Whatever. They're dangerous, and the point is, I don't know if I can keep up with an international relationship."

"I'm not sure how a moose is relevant to your current situation," Rachel points out, "but what I'm hearing you say is that you're worried your relationship with Blaine won't last if he's further away."

"Don't you dare Dr. Phil me." Kurt spits out. He drops his head back against the couch. "But yes. That is exactly what I'm saying."

Rachel opens her mouth to deliver what Kurt is sure will be a long speech about what she learned from her own failed attempt at a long distance relationship, but before she can get a word out, his phone rings. Kurt lunges for it and answers quickly, Rachel watching his every move.

"Blaine! Hi! I was just thinking about you," Kurt says, waving his hand at Rachel and hoping she'll take the hint. Thankfully, she stands up and heads toward her bedroom.

"Hey, you. How was your day?" Blaine answers, and Kurt closes his eyes and takes in the sound of Blaine's voice. It never matters how long it's been since they last talked. Each time still sends a thrill through Kurt's body and straight to his heart.

"Good. Long. Not as interesting as yours, I'm sure." Kurt picks up his fork again and leans forward, poking at the cheesecake even though his appetite is gone. "How did it go?"

"It wasn't bad."

"And?" Kurt prods, gesturing for Blaine to continue and only feeling ridiculous for a second when he remembers that Blaine can't see him.

"Well, don't freak out, but I might be leaving Columbus."

Kurt's stomach immediately drops through the couch and onto the floor. The fact that Blaine his telling him not to freak out is certainly not helping the situation, because all his body wants to do is go into a truly astounding state of freaking out. Sure, he knows this was a possibility, and it really shouldn't be much of a shock, but now it's happening and Kurt's mind can't seem to process information rationally.

"So that's it then? You're going to be gone away to some far off city and I'm going to be here, the scorned lover who never stood a chance?" Kurt could hear Blaine sigh deeply through the phone.

"Kurt, calm down. Nothing is set in stone yet, and I haven't even told you where - "

"Do not tell me to calm down, Blaine Anderson!" Kurt catches a glimpse of Rachel peeking out from behind her bedroom privacy curtain, but he finds he doesn't care if she overhears. He does, however, take a deep breath before he asks, "Where?"

"Well, according to my agent, there is some interest in Vancouver, LA, and New Jersey." Blaine speaks evenly, calmly, and Kurt isn't sure if he wants to kiss him or thrash him for sounding so cool about everything. "Columbus can still make me an offer, though."

"Right. You said New Jersey? That's... pretty close."

"It's closer to New York than Columbus, if that's what you mean," Blaine confirms. "But, Kurt, you know I can't base my decision on us, don't you?"

Kurt wants to be angry. He wants to tell Blaine that he doesn't care what the other teams are willing to give him and that he has to take the spot, or job, or whatever it's called, in New Jersey. A part of him is hurt that Blaine isn't taking their relationship into consideration, especially after everything they had shared already.

"Yeah, I know. Vancouver is so far away," Kurt finally says. As much as he wants to yell and cry, he keeps those feelings at bay the best that he can. "Where, um, where do you want to go?"

"Obviously, New Jersey has it's perks, but I have been really impressed with LA lately, and Cooper lives there, so I could always stay with him when I'm not on the road."

"LA is still far."

"It is. Like I said, nothing is set in stone," Blaine soothes, sounding relieved. "And no matter where I go, my heart stays with you, okay?"

"Such a sap," Kurt teases, smiling at Blaine's soft laugh. "I miss you a lot, you know?"

"I know. I miss you too."

They listen to each other breathe for a moment, and then Kurt remembers the invitation tucked away in his bag.

"Hey, would you be interested in going to a party with me next Saturday?"

"Kurt, I would love to, but I can't. I have a game."

"Of course you do," Kurt scoffs, his temper starting to flare up again. He stands up from the couch and starts pacing, fighting back the urge to throw his phone at the wall. He's being unfair and stubborn, but his self-awareness doesn't stop the anger from bubbling up. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I bothered asking in the first place."

"Come on, don't do that. You know there's nothing I can do about it," Blaine replies, and his voice is no longer calm and gentle. There's annoyance there, and frustration, and Kurt feels a little guilty for putting them there, but not enough to let it go completely.

"Yes, of course I know that, Blaine. You only remind me every time you cancel a phone call or Skype date or tell me you can't come out to visit." Kurt's ranting now, but he's annoyed and frustrated, too. "I don't even know why we bother trying if it's always going to be like this."

"Really, Kurt? You're going to use my job against me?" Blaine is nearly shouting now, and it makes Kurt flinch. "The job you knew damn well I had before you agreed - before we agreed - that this was worth it because it's what we wanted and because we love each other? You want to give up because of one stupid party?"

Blaine's words sting, sharp pinpricks that linger and burn. Kurt's eyes are starting to tear up and he rubs the heel of his hand over them furiously. "Maybe I do," Kurt blurts out. "Maybe I don't want to sit around and wait for you to have time for me."

"You don't mean that."

"What if I do?" He doesn't. Not at all. It's the worst kind of lie, one devised by anger and spite, but Kurt can't stop himself from saying it. He is too wound up, and the whole argument may have started because of a party, but it isn't about that anymore. Not really.

"Then I guess there's not much else to say."

Kurt's chest aches at how strained Blaine's voice sounds. He can end this whole terrible fight now, apologize for being selfish, take it all back, but that wouldn't erase what had already been said.

"I guess not." Kurt ends the call and freezes, realizing what just happened.

"Kurt?" Rachel is suddenly behind him, her hand resting carefully on his shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Kurt tells her, his throat tight and his eyes burning. He shakes his head and clenches his phone in his fist.

Call him back. Call him back, you idiot, call him back, he tells himself, but he can't. Instead, he brushes past Rachel and walks into his bedroom, willing her to leave him alone for a while. He sits on the edge of his bed and stares at the floor, not sure what to do next.

Call him back. 

When he gets a text a minute later, his heart speeds up and then slows down again when he realizes it's from Rachel, telling him that she's there if he needs to talk. His phone stays silent after that.