Part Two – A Grande Non-Fat Mocha

“You’ve reached Kurt Hummel,” he spoke into his cell as he moved around his apartment, using his first chance that week to tidy up and do a spot of cleaning. 

“Kurt?”

The voice made him freeze mid way through bending down to pick up a throw pillow from where it had somehow found its way to the middle of the living room. He knew that voice, but surely it couldn’t be him.

“Who is this?”

“You don’t recognize me?”

“Blaine? Are you drunk?”

“You sound so amazing, even just over the phone.”

Kurt suddenly found it quite difficult to stand and, sinking into the sofa in front of him, he sighed, “What are you doing, Blaine?”

“I just am so lonely in this apartment on my own and the city is so big and I miss you.”

“Well, Providence is quite large, I guess,” Kurt mumbled through his confusion, heart beating impossibly hard in his chest, not quite believing what was happening.

“Providence? Why are you talking about Providence? I’m in NYC, I’m in my home.” 

Blaine seemed to be struggling to get his mind and mouth around the words he was saying,  and he was speaking in such a disjointed, child-like voice that Kurt found it difficult to believe what he was hearing. But that didn’t stop his heart from pretty much stopping as his entire world shrank to nothing but the intoxicated man breathing nonsense in his ear and his own thoughts attempting to comprehend the meaning behind the drunken rambling. Blaine was living in New York.

“Did you just order what I think you ordered?” The man blanched, as his companion ignored the question and moved away from the registers, apparently incredibly interested in selecting a lid and stirrer for his drink.

With a roll of his eyes, he hurriedly paid for his own order, eager to follow his friend and question him further.

“Blaine, please tell me you did not just order that,” he all but groaned as the barista behind the counter confirmed his fear by calling for the owner of a Grande Non-Fat Mocha to come forward and collect their purchase.

Blaine still had yet to say anything to his long time friend, causing the lean man to sigh as they took a seat by the window of the quiet café. “What happened?” 

“Nothing happened, David.” 

“Cut the crap, Blaine. You only drink mocha when you’re thinking about your teenage dream.” 

The shorter man couldn’t help the slightly sad chuckled that escaped him at David’s words, as he gazed at his drink and his thoughts turned to the day he had first laid eyes on Kurt Hummel. He couldn’t quite believe how well his friend seemed to know what was going through his head, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this to himself; if he didn’t speak now, David would eventually get it out of him somehow. 

“I called him…” 

“You did what?” 

“…when I was drunk…” 

“Oh Blaine,” David shook his head at his companion, offering a sympathetic smile and taking a small sip of his latte. “Why on earth would you do that?” 

“I was drunk,” Blaine exclaimed, jumping to his own defence. “And I guess he’s just been on my mind a lot lately.” 

“Any reason in particular? I thought we all agreed that you were going to move on with your life.” 

“Well, I’m living in New York now,” Blaine looked down at his coffee, studying it as though it would save him from the questioning gaze of his best friend, or even provide the answers to the aching questions that had settled over him in recent months. “I think I always had the thought that if we were in the same city we’d get back together or… I don’t know…”

David tilted his head to the side, observing as his friend trailed off, running his hands down the sides of his cup, clearly torn up inside over the countertenor with the incredible voice and wildfire personality that he’d watched completely capture Blaine’s heart years earlier. 

Letting out a long, slightly shaky breath, David sat up straighter, leaning forward to question Blaine further, keen to help him sort through what was going through his mind and clearly driving him crazy.  

“Well, how does Kurt feel about this? How did this drunken conversation go?” 

“I have no idea,” Blaine’s head fell into his hands as he laughed at his own misfortune yet again. “I only have the vaguest idea of what I even said to him. I’m sure it was a new level of pathetic.” 

“Okay, so first, you need to stop being so hard on yourself.” David was clearly beginning to get frustrated at his friend feeling so sorry for himself. “It’s difficult to watch and it’s very un-Blaine.” 

“Un-Blaine?” The man himself quirked an eyebrow, jumping at the chance to deflect from his own problems at least for a moment. “I don’t think that makes sense, grammatically, I mean.”

“Don’t change the subject, I’m trying to help you sort this shit out,” David snapped.  

Blaine frowned like a scolded child and slumped down in his seat, not caring that he was obviously sulking and acting at least half his age.  

“Now, you need to do several things,” David spoke again, speaking deliberately and slowly; after all he was dealing with something a kin to a child. “You need to call Kurt and apologise.”

The curly haired man opened his mouth to protest but wasn’t given the chance as David raised his hand in a signal to silence him and then carried on with his pep talk. “I know it’ll be difficult and embarrassing but you have to; that call of yours probably freaked him out, he doesn’t deserve your drunken ass calling and then never even apologising, especially if he’s still as messed up as he was last I heard.”

“You’ve spoken to him?” Blaine lifted his head, looking more attentive than he had all morning.

David had to refrain from rolling his eyes at his friend who was still as predictable and as blindly in love with Kurt as he’d been in high school, despite how much had happened since and how much he tried to deny it. Not that he put up much of a fight around David, who had always been able to see straight through him. Shaking his head, he took a slow sip of his coffee in order to torture Blaine a little longer before responding.

“Not directly, no,” He finally said, to which Blaine visibly sighed and resumed his slumped demeanour. “I bumped into that Rachel girl a month or so ago. She said that Kurt was miserable without you and that the two of you needed to get your act together. There was also an anecdote in there about her two gay Dads and her dramatic saga of a relationship with Finn, but I wasn’t really listening.” 

Blaine’s expression was unreadable as he waited for the rest of David’s speech to come.

“The point is, you need to work out what you want,” David continued, leaning forward in his chair to catch Blaine’s eye and emphasize his point. “You need to decide if you want Kurt back and you need to make it happen. Or you need to apologize to him for drunkenly talking his ear off and bringing all this drama back up again and then find a way to move on, because no one wants to see you so broken anymore.” 

The tears were evident in Blaine’s eyes as he took a moment to allow his friend’s words to sink in, the message that he had known himself, but was choosing to ignore because of that niggling fear that resided in his chest.  

“Why are you so upset about this?” David was concerned now, he knew that the other man was hurting, but couldn’t understand why he was so visibly upset about what was being discussed.  

“I’m scared,” Blaine murmured, admitting what he’d been frightened to admit to himself, let alone speaking the words out aloud. “What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if I’ve screwed up so bad that he can’t forgive me, or he’s found someone else or…I don’t even know but I’m terrified.” 

David’s heart ached for his best friend, and he tread carefully over his next words, needing to find the right way to say it so that the two morons who were perfect for each other could finally see what everyone else had always known; that nothing could keep them apart except their own stupidity.  

“Blaine, I know this is hard for you, and it hurt you a lot that you guys couldn’t make it work before, and it’s going to hurt you a hell of a lot if he rejects you–” 

“If there is no ‘but’ in this sentence I will hurt you.” 

“But,” David continued, speaking loudly over Blaine’s dejected grumbling. “Just think about how it will feel when he says that he misses you too, and that he loves you – because he will, you know.” 

He paused for effect, giving Blaine a meaningful look to show how much he believed his words to be true. When he saw the realisation in the hazel eyes across from him, the look that showed clearly that Blaine was thinking about exactly how it would feel to finally have Kurt back, he relaxed back into his chair, latte in hand.  

“And then you guys can run around draped in rainbows and dance around with unicorns and whatever.” David smirked at finally seeing a crack of a smile on Blaine’s face, who rolled his eyes and looked across the table pointedly, urging the taller man to continue speaking, seriously this time.

“Look, you have been pining over him for two years and I think you will always regret it if you don’t just go for it now that you’re in the same city, you’re both older and you’ve both realised what it’s like without each other.”

Glancing down at his watch, David swore. “Shit, I’m late for a meeting,” he stood slowly from the small café table, reluctant to leave his friend in such a fragile state. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m not a child, and I don’t need to be baby sat.”

“Yeah, okay,” David scoffed, smiling teasingly. “I’ll believe you’re not a child when you pull yourself together and call Kurt, you hear me?”

“Okay, okay,” Blaine insisted. “And thanks, David. Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass about this whole thing.”

David brushed away the thanks, wished him luck and hurried out the door, leaving Blaine in a state of shock; the conversation had been intense and eye opening and now it was suddenly over and he was alone and left with the ball in his court, so to speak. Before he could talk himself out of it, and with David’s encouragement repeating itself in his mind, Blaine slid his phone from where it rested in his pocket and hit the correct number, mentally berating himself that the number was still programmed in his speed dial.  

His nerves were running wild as he placed the phone to his ear and attempted to use the steady dial tone as a way to help regulate his breathing. His mind was wiped completely blank as the ringing stopped.

“You’ve reached Kurt Hummel.”