The Cog and Whistle
Wicked6
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The Cog and Whistle: Chapter 6


T - Words: 3,531 - Last Updated: May 18, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 7/? - Created: Apr 17, 2012 - Updated: May 18, 2012
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Author's Notes: In which Kurt and Blaine become 'official'.*I don't know why things randomly get highlighted in white, It's not intentional and it's not highlighitng 'important' bits per se.*

 

Chapter 6

                “Hello?”
                “Hey.”
                “You sound like you’re sleeping still.”
                “Maybe I am.”
                “Call me back when you’re awake, doofus.”
                “But I…Hello?...Kurt did you just hang up on me?...I’m talking to myself aren’t I?....sigh.”

 

                “He-Hello??”
                “Now you sound like you’re preoccupied.”
                “I just got out of the shower. I heard my phone.”
                “So you ran? Geez, Kurt, I’m not going anywhere, I can leave a message.”
                “I…yeah…”
                “Go dry your dripping naked body off and then call me back.”
                Kurt didn’t respond but Blaine could almost hear him looking down at how ridiculous he must look.

                “I’m getting my phone wet.”
                “Goodbye, Kurt.”

 

                “Miiiiiiiiiiiiister Hummel.”
                “Hey, sorry.”
                “Are you still naked or did you put clothes on? That was awfully fast.”
                “Shut up.”
                “You love it.”
                “…..Shut up.”
                “Ha. Ok so, did you want to grab some breakfast?”
                “You mean lunch?”
                “Food is food Kurt.”
                “Yeah sure. Is it cold out?”
                “I would imagine since it’s now November, yes.”
                “I have to do my hair still.”          
                “Fiiiiiine.”
                “I’ll meet you outside in a few.”
                “Ok.”

                Blaine waited outside for 10 minutes before crossing the street and finding the buzzer for Kurt’s apartment.
                Bzzzzt
                “Hello?”
                “It’s me.”
                “Ug, sorry. Just come up. 3C.”
                Bzzzzt

                Blaine entered and took the stairs out of habit, even though he was sure the elevator in this building was fine. It was a bit brighter than his own building, maybe just the paint job. There was the faint odor of dryer sheets and wet dog. His stomach tingled as he came to stand in front of the door that read ‘3C’. He knocked and Kurt yelled at him to enter.
                “Shut the door. Cat.” Came a voice from behind a door to Blaine’s left. Blaine looked down to find a giant yellow long haired cat sauntering over to him, rubbing against his leg as though to say “Hey, you with the door knob in your hand, I’m pretty right? Am I pretty enough to be allowed some freedom?” Blaine closed the door and reached his hand down to scratch the cat’s head. The cat made a little jump off his front legs to meet Blaine’s hand part way and instantly began purring.
                It was sparser than his apartment; a sign of not being inhabited for very long. The beige walls were mostly bare, save for a few abstract black and gold art pieces above the small couch. A small television sat in one corner of the room, under a window and beside a rack of DVDs. A tiled square in the other corner of the room indicated the open kitchen area, which contained an apartment sized stove, a sink, a short counter which was mostly taken up by a coffee maker, and a fridge. To Blaine’s left was a half open door that he assumed was the bathroom and beside that was another half open door that must be Kurt’s room.
                “Sorry, Blaine. It’s just…This hair spray. Never buy this brand.” He held his arm through the door to show Blaine the bottle in his hand.  “They didn’t have the one I wanted. This one was cheaper. Cheaper is not better.” Blaine took a step forward so he could see Kurt through the door.  His hair looked perfect, but Kurt still fussed with a strand here, and a frayed tip there. Blaine hadn’t even brushed his hair this morning.
                “Kurt, I’m sure it’s fine. We don’t have to go out if you don’t want.”
                “I do, Blaine. Just….AHHHRRRGGGHHH,” his hands blurred as he messed his hair back up in frustration.  He took a step back, considered himself in the mirror and said “Oh.” Then he turned the bathroom light off, smiled at Blaine and grabbed his coat.
                “Seriously?” said Blaine.
                “Kurt fun-fact number two: Don’t mess with my hair, unless it looks better that way. Bradshaw, stay.” The cat listlessly on the arm of the couch and glared at them as the door closed him off from the outside world.

                “Bradshaw?”
                “His full name is George Bernard Shaw, but I don’t like ‘George’, and I was calling him Berdshaw for a while, but that sounded stupid, so he ended up with Bradshaw.”
                “So why didn’t you just call him, like, Shakespeare or something?”
                Kurt gave a sideways look to Blaine and rolled his eyes as he locked his door and walked down the hall.
                “This, coming from a guy with a bird named Pavarotti.”
                “Yeah, but I didn’t name him. And at least they have singing in common.”
                Kurt gave an open sigh and Blaine smiled a little to himself as he followed Kurt into the outdoors.

                “So, how have you been?” asked Kurt. Blaine shrugged.
                “Alright. Nothing really to spectacular happening.”
                “That’s good, I guess. Sorry I was busy this week. Mid-term studying crap.”
                “It’s ok. I was kinda busy trying to get the Halloween party pulled together.”
                “Which was awesome, by the way.”
                “Thanks. I’ve worked there the longest, besides Joe obviously, who owns the place, so I got to make a lot of the calls on what we did this year. You’re costume was amazing by the way, I forget if I got a chance to tell you.”
                “Thanks. I had fun putting it together. The damn hair dye leeched onto my pillow though. I should have washed it out last night, but was just so tired.” Blaine looked up to Kurt’s head and noticed that his hair was still darker than usual, but not black, and the white streak was gone.
                “Did you make it all?”
                “Pieced together from bits of stuff I found at thrift shops and stuff I had. Not made by me entirely though.”
                “Still, impressive.”
                “Why, thank you good sir.”
                They entered the coffee shop that Blaine often ate lunch with Ethan and Evan in. It was so much out of habit that they both suddenly realized that they hadn’t decided on an eating place, they just ended up here.
                “Come here often, do you?” laughed Blaine.
                “It’s on the way to school, so yes,” said Kurt back.
                “Funny we haven’t seen each other in here. I come here with the twins a lot.”
                “The who?”
                “The twins. Oh man have I not told you about them? Ethan and Evan. They’re my best friends here I guess. My only friends really, besides people at work. They helped me get settled after I showed up here not knowing what I was getting myself in to.”
                “This sounds like excellent lunch time conversation,” smiled Kurt as they ordered coffee and sandwiches and sat in a corner to talk for hours.

                The next couple weeks the boys seemed to fall more in love, though neither one of them admitted it. They walked in Central Park.  They had coffee. They had lunch. Kurt was in school most of the time and then Blaine worked at night, so some days were harder to talk than others. Blaine began to have a little more empathy for Tina and Mike.
                They didn’t talk much about the first couple days of them meeting.  Blaine was ok with that, it wasn’t really awkward, but part of him just kept wanting to blurt out to Kurt how sorry he was and it wasn’t Kurt’s fault. He knew it would be pointless though because he’d already told him, and he didn’t really want to repeat the Empire State Building thing. It was maybe more embarrassing than anything, but Blaine had to admit it felt good to scream it out like that. He’d never really let off steam that way. But Kurt had said his life had been shitty too, and yet he was carrying on day to day like he wasn’t carrying any baggage. Blaine wished he had that energy and drive, but maybe that’s what drew him to Kurt. Kurt was the energy he needed. Kurt was his breath of fresh air.
                He took Kurt to his busking date with the twins, because he figured he owed it to them to tell them why he was suddenly not available as often as before.
                “Hey guys.”
                “Hey… who’s this?” asked Evan with a raised eyebrow.
                “This is my friend Kurt… We’ve been hanging out a lot lately I guess. Sorry I haven’t really been around.”
                “BLAINE!” Squeaked both twins together, their grins lighting up the street.
                “Ok, guys, relax, don’t scare him.”
                “KURT!” You could tell they were trying really hard to resist mowing him over.
                “Hey,” Kurt smiled, “Blaine’s told me a lot about you guys.”
                “Blaine has a friend!” Said Ethan, opting to mow over Blaine with a hug.
                “Ok, ok guys, he’s just here to watch, is that ok? Stop making a scene!”
                Kurt shrugged to Blaine and mouthed “It’s ok” as he went to lean against the wall behind where the boys performed. Ethan and Evan kept elbowing Blaine and hugging him for no reason. Blaine kept stealing glances back at Kurt to make sure he hadn’t decided to run away from the crazy.

                One weekend, after a walk in the park, Blaine invited Kurt up for dinner. They had taken turns making food for each other a few times, since eating out usually consisted of spending too much money, and needing to either find a cab or a train to take them anywhere. It mostly was the ‘quick-and-easy’ kind of meals since neither of them cooked much, but both loved good food. Fresh parsley and paprika was sprinkled on mac and cheese to make it fancy. Omelets turned into scrambled eggs, but the peppers and bacon made up for it.
                Blaine unlocked his front door with one hand while still holding hands with Kurt with the other.
                Rice was put to a boil. The fridge was searched for more ingredients. They ended up with curried rice with goat cheese and bits of leftover chicken plopped on top. Blaine insisted on cleaning up. As he put the last dish aside to dry he heard a few notes float through the room from his guitar. He dried his hands and leaned on the door frame between the kitchen and the living room. Kurt was standing idly beside Pav’s cage, running his fingers across the strings of the guitar.
                “Man-handling my woman, are you?” Kurt jumped and then laughed slightly.
                “Yeah, sorry.”
                “No, no, I’m just bugging you.”
                “Play something?” asked Kurt, hopefully. Blaine smiled and went over to the chair where his guitar was. He stopped directly in front of Kurt so their hands and thighs were touching. He kissed Kurt’s nose as he picked up his guitar and perched on the arm of the chair. Kurt moved to the opposite couch and sat with his elbows on his knees, hands under his chin. Blaine played a few chords and some made-up melodies. He phased from one song to another. Sped up, he slowed down. He lost track of how long he had been playing and abruptly stopped to look across at Kurt. He was still sitting there, a small smile etched on his lips.
                “I wish I could play,” he said.
                Without missing a beat, Blaine handed his guitar to Kurt, who held it like someone who had just been handed a bomb.
                “Come on, it won’t bite,” laughed Blaine.
                “What do I do with it?” asked Kurt, incredulously. Blaine laughed again and moved to the couch beside him. He arranged the guitar in Kurt’s arms and guided his left hand onto the neck. Kurt was still eyeing Blaine like he had three heads.
                “Do you want to learn to play something or not? Try looking a little less like I’m trying to perform surgery on your fingers.”  Kurt relaxed a little but still looked awkward behind the battered instrument.
                “Sorry,” said Kurt, “Just didn’t think you were going to make me perform for you without so much as a rehearsal,” he jabbed. Blaine just smiled.
                “What do you want to play?”
                “Goodness, I don’t know. Don’t put me on the spot like that.”
                “Alright, I’ll start you out and you guess the song then.” Blaine arranged Kurt’s first and middle finger across two frets. Then he took his own thumb and strummed slowly across the strings.
                “That’s a D,” said Blaine. Kurt just raised an eye brow. Blaine took Kurt’s other arm and draped it across the front of the guitar so he could reach the strings too.
                “I want you to play just this string here,” instructed Blaine.
                “This middle one?”
                “Yeah.” Kurt did, and a single wobbly note emitted from the guitar. “OK, just remember to keep a good grip with your left hand. It will sharpen the sound.” Kurt plucked the string again and this time a crystal clear D resounded through the apartment. Blaine smiled.
                “Still haven’t guessed,” said Kurt. Blaine rolled his eyes.
                “Ok, now, play these two strings below it. Don’t forget what you’re left hand is doing too.” Kurt did, and a slightly higher note escaped into the air. “Alright, now play those two notes back and forth a few times. Kurt did, slowly. He looked up at Blaine with a squinty sort of expression on his face.
                “Do I know this song?…”
                “Of course you do, everyone does.”
                “Yeah but…I can’t place it.”
                “Ok here, next chord.” Blaine proceeded to move the fingers of Kurt’s left hand and point out which strings to pluck. Kurt played, but still shook his head in frustration.
                “Arg, what is this song? I know it…”
                “It’s just not up to speed. It goes a quite a bit faster.”
                “YOU play it then,” laughed Kurt, throwing the guitar back at Blaine. Blaine obliged.

                D, A, D, A, D, A, D, A, F#, A, F#, A…
                Kurt sat up a little straighter and smiled as recognition dawned on his face.

Hey there, Delilah
What's it like in New York city?
I'm a thousand miles away
But, girl, tonight you look so pretty
Yes, you do

               
Blaine beamed at Kurt through the lyrics. Kurt beamed back.

Times Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear, it's true

Hey there, Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it's my disguise
I'm by your side

               
In an apartment somewhere Tina rifled through piles of paper on a desk, unable to find what she needed. She threw a folder down on the desk and her face in her hands just as Mike’s arms found her waist.  Silently willing her to ignore the paperwork for tonight, he pulled her to the middle of the room and began to lead her in a waltz.

Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me

               
Puck bounced Beth in his arms to get her to stop crying. She wouldn’t settle to sleep and he didn’t know what was wrong. He closed his eyes and swayed her back and forth across the room, singing until her eye lids began to droop.

Hey there, Delilah
I know times are gettin' hard
But just believe me, girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

               
Blaine pulled the strings of his guitar with an ease that Kurt envied, but didn’t dare try to emulate. This was good enough, listening. He could listen forever.

Hey there, Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all

               
Ethan sat curled up on the twins’ couch in front of a movie. Evan moved through the room and handed Ethan a mug of hot cocoa. They clinked their mugs together and took a drink. Evan pulled a blanket around his knees and a plate of pizza in to his lap.

Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me

                In a Pennsylvanian home Blaine’s mother held the phone in her hand. She turned it on for a moment, and then turned it off again and put it down. Instead she sat on the couch beside her husband, biting her thumb nail. Blaine’s dad barely noticed as the light from the TV reflected off his glasses.

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
And we'd just laugh along because we'd know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah, I can promise you
That by the time that we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame

               
Blaine locked his eyes with Kurt. He grinned as he sang and Kurt smiled back, pulling his legs onto the couch and propping his head on a hand.

Hey there, Delilah
You be good, and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school 
And I'll be makin' history like I do
You know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there, Delilah, here's to you
This one’s for you

Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me

                Blaine hummed as he finished the song. Kurt just stared at him.
                “I’ll leave the guitar playing to you, I think.”
                “If you say so.”
                “I insist.”
                Blaine laughed as he set the guitar beside him. He looked over at Kurt again.
                “So…I um, have something for you.”
                “Should I be afraid?”
                “Only if you’re afraid of going on a date with me.”
                “Oh, well in that case – “ Kurt feigned getting off the couch to leave.
                “Fine,” said Blaine, crossing his arms with a smile. “You’ll never know what an awesome boyfriend I am then.” Kurt, who was standing now, sat back down slowly.
                “Is that what we are?” he asked quietly. It took a moment for Blaine to realize what he had just said. He had just kind of assumed they were going out, but it now occurred to them that his head-cannon probably never made it out of his head. He smiled towards his knees before looking at Kurt again.
                “Well, is it?” he asked Kurt back. Kurt’s smile spread into a grin.
                “I guess that answers the question, huh?”
                “I guess so,” answered Blaine, barely able to contain the smile that was threatening to outgrow and fall off of his face. “Well then, that makes this even more special.” He got up and went into the kitchen. Kurt heard him opening and then closing a drawer. He returned and presented Kurt with an envelope. “This was going to just be a date, if you wanted to… but now it can be called our first real date as a… as a couple.” Kurt took the envelope with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. Blaine rocked back and forth on his toes while Kurt looked inside the envelope.
                “SHUT. UP.” Kurt yelled. Blaine just kept smiling. “SHUT! UP!” he shouted again, jumping off the couch.
                “So you hate it then. Fine I’ll take them back,” he sarcastically reached for the envelope again.
                “WHAT! NO! BLAINE! I!... WICKED!?”
                Blaine shrugged, “So you haven’t seen it before?”
                “I made my dad take me when the tour went through Ohio. But, oh God, Blaine, it’s my favourite. And now…” He looked towards Blaine, his eyes being swallowed by the grin on his face, “Gershwin!” he squeaked. The next thing Blaine knew he was being enveloped in the most enthusiastic hug he’d ever received.

 


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