Kurt woke up disoriented, the low hum of the bus's generator reminding him, oh, I'm on a bus. In a bed. Blaine's bed. He opened his eyes to find a note left on the pillow. He smiled as he recognized the familiar slant of Blaine's handwriting. 

Radio interview this morning. A runner can take you to the hotel if you want to hang out there. I'll call you as soon as I'm done and we can spend the day together.

XO

Blaine

Kurt giggled and traced the X and O with his fingers, a happy sigh on his lips. 

————————

Kurt made his way backstage and found the production office. There was an older, burly man sitting behind the desk wearing a black polo with the name “Rick” stitched on the front. 

“Hi, I'm Blaine's friend, Kurt,” he said, waving and stepping into the office. “Blaine mentioned a runner could take me to the hotel?”

“And how is that my problem?” Rick growled.

“Umm, I was hoping you could point me in the right direction?”

Rick looked up from his laptop and scratched through his thick beard, staring at Kurt. He looked back at his laptop and mumbled to himself, “I do not get paid enough for this shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Find your own damn runner, Harem. I've got work to do.”

Kurt sat down in the chair next to the desk. “I'm sorry, what do you mean by Harem?”

Rick leaned back in his chair and shoved one hand inside the waistband on his jeans, the other hand scratching over his protruding belly. “Look Pretty Boy, I hate to burst your bubble. I'm sure you think you're a special little thing and Blaine couldn't help himself and had to invite you out onto the road but look, the rest of us have a lot of work to do. We can't spend all of our time chasing after Blaine's weekly conquests. There's too many of you to keep track of so just figure it out. It's not like you're gonna be here long enough to matter.”

Kurt's face fell with each harsh word. “But, he said-”

“I'm sure he did and hell, maybe he even meant it when he said it. And don't get me wrong, Blaine's a good guy. I like working for the dude, but he's got a new guy in here every other day and I'm tired of babysitting.”

Kurt stood and brushed his trembling hands down the front of his pants. “I appreciate your time.”

Kurt walked out of the office and down the long hall, the heels of his boots echoing off the harsh concrete. He walked down the ramp to the back loading dock where the bus was parked. He thought about texting Blaine, thought about calling him, thought about going to the radio station to confront him in person. Instead, he started walking.

He walked down Peachtree Street, past the Center Stage Theater and the marquee with Darren's name lit up in lights. There were a few groups of fangirls hanging around the front entrance, hoping for a glimpse of Blaine. They noticed Kurt's backstage pass and whispered and pointed. He pulled the pass from around his neck and shoved it into his back pocket.

Atlanta was close enough to Nashville, maybe he'd rent a car and drive home. But the thought of being alone with his thoughts for four hours of interstate traffic made his stomach turn.

He fell for it, every touch and smooth word. Every flash of those hazel eyes. He believed Blaine thought he was special, that this wasn't something he did every show, every tour. His chest felt tighter the further he walked. 

An hour later Kurt found himself in front of the Artmore Hotel on Peachtree. He went inside, a welcome relief from the early summer humidity, and found the hotel bar. He slid onto one of the white, leather stools and heard a friendly voice.

“Good afternoon, what can I get you?”

Kurt looked up to see a gorgeous, dark-skinned man with impeccable fashion sense smiling at him. “Is it afternoon already?”

“It's almost noon.”

“Too early for whiskey?” Kurt asked, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“Uh-oh. Looks like you had a bad night?”

Kurt laid his head down on the bar. “You could say that.”

The bar tender poured Kurt a shot of whiskey. “Here, drink this, and I'll get you one of our famous grilled cheese sandwiches. How does that sound?”

Kurt sat up and attempted a smile. “That would be great, thanks.”

The bar tender left and Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket to see several missed texts from Blaine. He drank the shot, ignored the texts and called Frankie.

“Let me guess,” she said, not waiting for a hello, “you two idiots flew to Vegas and got gay married and you're never coming home?”

Kurt sighed.

“Uh-oh, no gay wedding?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“Kurt, what happened?”

“Apparently I'm just one in a very, very long line of beautiful gay men who fell for his pretty words and even prettier mouth. God, his mouth. And his hands, oh fuck, his hands. And you literally wouldn't believe the ass on that man. Is it any wonder I believed him.”

“Kurt.”

“But it wasn't just that, you know? It was also his heart and the way he cared for me and the way his eyes scrunched up and disappeared when he laughed and holy shit I am so fucked.”

“Why are you referring to Blaine in the past tense?”

“Because it's over.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In a hotel bar, in Atlanta.”

“And where's Blaine?”

“At a radio interview.”

“And have you talked to him?”

Kurt sat up straight, his forehead scrunched into a frown. “What are you getting at.”

“What were hoping to get out of all this?”

Kurt was silent for a while, thinking, looking at his sad reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “I don't know. I guess I just…I didn't want to be just another dude he fucked, you know? I wanted it to mean something.”

“And what makes you think it didn't?”

“This morning I was talking to a crew member and he told me. He said Blaine's got guys out on the road all the time. Called me ‘Harem,' like I was just another notch on Blaine's bedpost.”

“Oh, well, that doesn't sound good. But have you talked to Blaine about it?”

“No, I just left. I don't know what to say to him. I'm embarrassed that this meant so much to me. I should have known it was just a fling for him. I should have been okay with that.”

“Bullshit. You didn't do anything wrong and you shouldn't force yourself to be okay with something that makes you feel bad.”

The bar tender set a plate of food in front of Kurt and smiled. Kurt waved and thanked him.

“I don't know what to do.”

“Talk to him. Be honest. If it turns out to be true and it's not something you want, come home.”

Kurt exhaled and picked up a French fry. “I'm eating French fries.”

“Oh shit, it's worse than I thought,” she said, “I haven't seen you eat French fries in years. Talk to him Kurt. Hear him out. He deserves at least that.”

“I'll try.”

———————-

Two hours later Kurt was still sitting at the bar, most of his grilled cheese still sitting on the plate.

“Kurt, there you are!” He turned to see Blaine jogging towards him, a huge smile on his face. “I've been trying to reach you all day!” he said, leaning in to kiss Kurt's cheek. “What happened to you?”

“How did you know I was here?”

“What do you mean? This is the hotel, right? Have you been here this whole time?”

“Oh, right, the hotel,” Kurt said, not meeting Blaine's eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I just needed to clear my head.” Kurt's expression was blank, his smile polite.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sitting on the stool next to him, “what's going on?”

Kurt took a breath and focused straight ahead. He knew he wouldn't be able to say the words if he was looking at Blaine.

“I made a mistake. I shouldn't have come out here.”

“Is this about last night? Because, Kurt, that was an accident. I'm not mad. And the bite marks are gone! I'm fine!”

“No, it's not that I… I got caught up in the moment, in you and,” Kurt glanced at Blaine, his wide eyes concerned and his full lips parted like he wanted to stop whatever was about to come out of Kurt's mouth, “I thought it would be something different. And I was wrong. It's not your fault.”

“Kurt, you're freaking me out over here. What's going on?”

Kurt turned his bar stool towards Blaine, their knees brushing together. “I'm a relationship guy.”

“Okay?”

“I convinced myself that's what you wanted, too. I shouldn't have done that.”

Blaine reached out to grab Kurt's hand. “What makes you think that's not what I want?”

“I know, Blaine. I know about your habit of bringing guys out on the road with you for a few days and then never seeing them again. And I'm not saying it's wrong, I'm just can't be that for you. I wish I could.”

“Kurt, I don't understand where this is coming from?”

“I talked to your stage manager. He told me everything.”

“Told you what, exactly?”

Kurt stomach flipped at the expression on Blaine's face. He seemed genuinely clueless to what he was about to confess. “That I'm just one of your conquests. That you do this all the time, invite guys like me to spend time with you only to replace them with someone new a few days later.”

Blaine's head dropped down, his chin on his chest. “No, Kurt.” He looked up and grabbed Kurt's arms, forcing Kurt to look him in the eye. “That is complete bullshit. Did Rick tell you that?”

Kurt's eyes watered. “Yes.”

“Look at me,” Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand and pulling it to his chest. “Rick's angry with me for firing Cam because now he has more work to do. He's just trying to get back at me.”

“It's okay, Blaine. I just thought this was something different than it is.”

Blaine moved his hands to Kurt's face. “I don't know what you think this is, but I will tell you what it is for me. I like you, Kurt. I like talking to you and spending time with you. I like your sense of humor and your sass and the way you turn your nose up when you think something is beneath you. And yes, I'm wildly attracted to you and think about your gorgeous naked self every single second I'm away from it.”

Kurt's mouth cracked, the tiniest of smiles. Blaine kept talking.

“I want you to be here, just you, no one else. But I feel like I'm spending all of my time trying to convince you it's true. I get why you don't want to believe me. I,” Blaine pulled his hands away and crossed him arms over his chest, “I guess this is why it's been hard for me to have a relationship since I started this whole thing. Yes, Kurt, I've dated a lot of guys. Not as many as you seem to think, but sure, a lot. But the main reason for that is because it's been so difficult to find someone who understands my lifestyle, who can trust me.”

Kurt's cheeks went red. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. 

“I want this, Kurt. You and me, I want it. But I need you to want it, too. I need you to trust in me, to believe that I mean what I say. There's always going to be people who want to keep us apart, that's the nature of the business I'm in.”

“I know that,” Kurt cut in, “I work with artists and…I know.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to believe in me? What more can I do?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, the hurt look on Blaine's face cutting right him, “I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so scared.”

Blaine stood up and pulled Kurt into a tight embrace, kissing his cheek and disregarding the curious looks from the other bar patrons.

“Maybe this trip was too much, maybe we jumped in too soon.” He pulled back to look at Kurt, a sad smile on his face. “I want you to stay, but I'll understand if you can't”

Kurt's head hurt. He didn't want to lose Blaine, never intended it to get so twisted and messed up. 

“I hate to say this,” Blaine said, “but I have to go. I'm late for soundcheck and I have an early meet and greet and a meeting with my booking agent. But I don't want to walk away from this conversation without at least some resolution.”

“I, umm,” Kurt stammered, “I don't know. I want to be with you, Blaine. But I feel like this is all too confusing, too much. I need to think about it.”

Blaine's shoulders sagged. “Okay.”

“Blaine, I-”

“It's okay, Kurt. I want you to be happy. I hope you can find a way to include me in that, but if not, I'll understand. Good-bye.”

Blaine turned and walked out of the bar as Kurt slumped back onto the bar stool, completely dejected. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. What was his problem? Why wasn't he running after Blaine right this second? Why couldn't he just believe Blaine and jump in with his whole heart?

“Hey, man,” the bar tender said, leaning over the bar to whisper to Kurt, “I don't mean to intrude but, was that Blaine Anderson?”

Kurt shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips. “Yeah.”

“And forgive me, but he was professing his feelings for you? And were you rejecting him?”

Kurt looked up, a stunned expression on his face. “I wasn't rejecting him!”

“Sure sounded like it to me,” the bar tender said, backing away from the bar and shaking his head.

Oh god, Kurt thought, as he pulled out his phone and called Frankie. She picked up after the first ring.

“I fucked up, oh my god, Frankie, I fucked up so badly! I have to get out of here,” he said, choking on his words, “I have to-”

“It's okay, I'm half-way there.”

“What?”

“When you called earlier, I knew you were in trouble. I'm half-way to Atlanta. Stay put and I'll come get you.”

Kurt smiled, the first real smile since he woke up that morning. “Have I told you today that you're my favorite human?”

“Love you, too. Text me the address, I'll be there soon.”