June 2, 2012, 10:55 a.m.
Bittersweet Memories: Chapter 2
T - Words: 2,985 - Last Updated: Jun 02, 2012 Story: Complete - Chapters: 29/29 - Created: Apr 03, 2012 - Updated: Jun 02, 2012 3,974 0 2 0 0
Kurt patted down his hair a few times as he exited the showers in the boys' locker room. With his other hand he hitched up the towel around his waist and draped the second around his neck, turning down the far row of lockers to where his clothes were set out.
Practice had been particularly brutal this afternoon, resulting in a dozen girls leaving the field in hysterics and two sprained ankles. Needless to say Coach Sylvester had immediately cut the injured girls, but Kurt wasn't worried. There were a dozen more willing to take their places at any cost. Half of them would probably sell their families for a chance to get on the squad.
He stopped in front of his locker, glad that the football team hadn't yet finished their own practice. It was rare when he managed to have this kind of privacy in the locker room, but he took advantage of it every chance he got. Even if it was only for twenty minutes, it was nice to be able to relax and feel more like himself.
As Kurt set down his facial treatment kit on the bench, and pulled on his underwear and jeans he heard the door creak open around the corner. Two high pitched voices greeted his ears. He hung both of his towels over the door of his locker, and pulled out his shirt, glad that it was the weekend and he got to wear his own clothes for a few days. Kurt loved his Cheerios uniform and the power it gave him while he was at school, but he did miss his old wardrobe most days. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone at school. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to think he didn't want to be on top. The last thing he needed was to fall to the bottom of the heap with Bl–
Kurt shook himself roughly as he did up his shirt and nodded at Santana and Quinn, both now dressed in their street clothes.
"Hey, stud," Quinn greeted, pecking him on the cheek.
"No sweaty boys to catch your eye today, huh?" Santana added, dropping down onto the bench in front of them.
"Santana," Quinn scolded, glancing around quickly. "Don't say things like that. People could hear you, then they'll think Kurt's... that he's... "
"Gay?" Kurt supplied, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. A brief flicker of panic passed through him at the word. His father might know the truth, even Carole, Finn, and Santana, but he wasn't out and proud. He wasn't stupid enough to make that mistake. The less people who knew until he went off to college the better.
Santana shot him a knowing smile, and Quinn blanched and stiffened. Santana had known the moment she'd met him. He wasn't sure how she'd figured it out, but she'd blackmailed him into a corner his freshmen year. Things had certainly changed since then. She was one of his closest friends now, and the same way she'd kept his sexuality a secret, he'd kept hers quiet as well.
"Look, just because Kurt's voice is kind of... high-pitched," Quinn decided with another awkward glance at him, "that doesn't mean he's gay."
"Just an uncooperative voice box at fault there," Kurt said simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
Another trickled of guilt crept into him. His father would understand his silence on the matter. That's what he kept telling himself at least. He wouldn't be disappointed that Kurt was hiding himself behind all of this. His real love life could wait until he was safe and sound at college in a few years. Until then he could keep "dating" Brittany. With Brittany at his side everyone assumed he was straight, which gave Santana and Brittany the perfect cover as well. Nobody needed to know anything beyond that.
"Of course," Quinn said with finality, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. "There's only one gay guy at this school, and that little dweeb got it good with those slushies this morning."
Blaine. The one boy he'd always been honest with. The first person he'd trusted completely and shared himself with.
"– make it five next week," Santana said thoughtfully. "Give him what he wants. He's always so eager to get a facial. Must remind him of all those gang bangs when he's used as a come rag."
"Sounds good," Kurt agreed, even though his stomach churned a little at the thought. "Britt and Sarah won't mind joining us."
Quinn clapped happily and pecked him on the cheek once more. "See you Monday, Kurt!"
She hugged Santana and then left. Santana turned to him. "Britt and you are fucking at your place tonight if anyone asks," she told him.
"Uh huh, sure we are," Kurt said bitterly. He hated when he got asked for details about his supposed "sex life" with Brittany, and thanks to Santana it was apparently raging hot. One of these days he was going to have to find himself a guy, and force him and Santana to be each other's beards. Then he could spread all sorts of dirty rumors about their "relationship".
"You could always bend that nerdy hobbit over something," Santana suggested slyly, nudging him with her elbow.
Kurt glared at her, because she'd just broken a strict rule of their friendship: don't talk about Blaine unless it's slushy related. He didn't want to think about Blaine, it just made him feel guilty. Even two years later the feeling crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He'd let Blaine down, left him and turned his back on him. Blaine hated him now, and maybe... maybe he wanted it that way. If Blaine hated him then he didn't feel so bad about the way he continued to torment him. Maybe if he caught the smallest flash of hatred in those hazel eyes before he turned the corner he could justify everything he'd done since freshmen year.
Kurt never saw it, but he hoped he would. Once Blaine truly hated him he could shut the door on that part of his life for good. Maybe then he would stop missing his best friend every day.
Kurt shook himself roughly as he closed his locker and grabbed his bag. The sound of the football team entering the back room echoed up to them as Santana pulled him towards the hall. He had to stop thinking about Blaine. He couldn't afford to think about him anymore.
Kurt bit his lip, sucking on it roughly as he tried to focus on his homework. Blaine was draped across the bed next to him, tapping his pen against the glossy page of his world history textbook. His chin was resting on the edge of the page he was supposed to be reading, but his eyes were fixed on the door of his room.
Kurt knew Blaine was thinking about the same thing he was. The make out session they'd just walked in on downstairs. Blaine's older brother, Cooper, seemed to have a new girl around the house every week these days, and never bothered to confine their relationship to his room. Normally they never walked in on more than a little peck on the mouth, but today... Today had been different. Clothes had been on the floor instead of bodies, and two pairs of hands had been places Kurt could barely imagine putting his own.
"Do you ever think about it?" Blaine asked suddenly, his pen falling onto his book as he looked over to Kurt's side of the bed.
"Think about what?" Kurt replied evasively, feeling his cheeks heat up because he knew exactly what Blaine was referring to. The thought of kissing someone – a handsome, charming, adorably shy boy – made his body tingle in an unfamiliar, but thrilling way.
"Don't play dumb," Blaine retorted, sliding up off his stomach and onto his knees. He kept his gaze fixed on the bedspread. "You know... kissing someone like that."
"I– not really, I guess," Kurt mumbled, his face burning as he stared down at his own textbook. Suddenly conjugating verbs for his French class was extremely interesting.
"Well,I d- do," Blaine stammered in embarrassment. "Only it's... it's different than them."
Kurt looked over in time to see Blaine jerk his head towards the door that kept Cooper and – Amanda? he thought that was the new girl's name – hidden from them . At the same time his heart sank a little. Blaine thought about making out with girls. His best friend was straight, which meant as soon as Kurt told him about his own fantasies Blaine would hate him. He'd turn his back on him because he liked boys the way Blaine liked–
The second sentence Blaine had said suddenly registered in his head. "What do you mean... different?" Kurt asked, trying to sound slightly confused and a little intrigued instead of hopeful.
He'd never really been sure about Blaine's sexuality. Most days Blaine wanted to horse around with his brother, watch football, and play video games. But he was always up for a fashion lesson from Kurt, loved to wear all of Kurt's fancy ties, and mentioned how attractive some of the men were in the magazines they read together. It confused Kurt constantly, because he'd known for a long time that he wasn't into girls, but Blaine could go either way in his mind, and that scared him.
"I mean," Blaine paused and took a deep breath. His arms curled around his chest as he slid closer to Kurt until their knees were pressed together. Kurt reached out for his friend's hands on instinct. They always sat like this when they were sharing secrets or their deepest fears. Legs crossed, knees pressed together and hands joined in their laps. It felt safer there than anything else Kurt could imagine, except maybe his father's arms. But even that didn't feel as safe as it used to. Burt Hummel was a kind, understanding man, but Kurt honestly didn't know how he would react once his only son came out as gay.
"I mean," Blaine started again. "When I think about it... I'm kissing– kissing a- another boy. I like boys, Kurt."
Kurt stared at Blaine, his breath caught in his throat. Blaine was giving him that look he always gave him when he was uncomfortable. His head was tilted down slightly, and he was staring up at Kurt through his thick eyelashes. He'd never seen Blaine look more terrified of admitting something, but somehow hearing Blaine say it, knowing he had that unyielding trust made it okay for him to share himself, too.
"So do I," Kurt said softly, squeezing Blaine's hands tightly.
"You– really?"
"Yes," Kurt whispered, looking up and into Blaine's eyes for the first time since Blaine had spoken. "I'm... I'm gay, Blaine."
His voice cracked on the last word, and Blaine leaned in and pulled him into his arms. "It's okay, Kurt. We can be gay together," Blaine murmured as Kurt hugged him tight. "I bet Cooper will try to take us to a gay bar."
"We're in eighth grade. That isn't legal," Kurt hiccupped, pressing his nose against Blaine's neck and breathing in his comforting scent.
"Like that matters to Cooper," Blaine laughed. Blaine's arms squeezed him tighter, and for once Kurt was glad that Blaine was growing so much faster than him. It made it that much easier for Blaine's warmth to surround him when they hugged like this. Right here was one of the best places in the world.
"You're my best friend, Blaine," Kurt breathed quietly. "I'd be lost without you."
"I'd be nothing without you, Kurt," Blaine replied sincerely.
The door banged open behind them a few moments later and Cooper charged in, looking manic.
"Blainers, come here, little brother!"
"What– no– put me down, Cooper!" Blaine shrieked as he was hoisted off the bed and thrown over Cooper's shoulder. Blaine might be bigger than him, but Cooper still had a good seven inches on his younger brother.
Kurt hiccupped through his laughter as Blaine was carried from the room, still yelling and cursing loudly at Cooper's antics.
Kurt and Santana said their goodbyes on the steps outside the school, Santana heading to her car while Kurt kept an eye out for his father's truck. It was Friday which meant the four of them – himself, Burt, Finn, and Carole – were going out for their weekly family dinner. After a few moments of scanning the lot he spotted his father, in his Mustang today instead of his truck, waving at him.
"Hey, Kurt! Over here, bud!"
Normally Kurt flinched at his father's voice ringing out across the lot, but it was mostly empty today. Besides, in that car it wouldn't matter who was driving since it was gorgeous. The bright red sports car more than made up for any inadequacies his classmates could label his father with. Kurt hurried over, putting his bag into the trunk that was cracked open, shutting it, and then climbing into the passenger seat.
"Good practice?" Burt greeted.
"We lost two girls," Kurt answered offhandedly. "Coach will replace them by Monday, though. She's probably already got a dozen girls begging for each spot."
Burt eyed him for a moment, looking concerned at his words. "They're not keeping up with the routines?"
"Injuries," Kurt said simply. "Finn's gonna be a little while. They were just coming in when I left."
"We've still got an hour until Carole gets off her shift at the hospital, anyway. No rush," Burt replied, leaning back and rolling down his window.
Kurt shivered at the blast of cold air and turned to look out the window where his father was staring. A dozen or so students were filing out into the parking lot, mostly girls from the squad, but there were a few randoms in the mass of teenagers. Even at a distance Kurt caught sight of the dark head of curls and the red polo. His stomach squirmed uncomfortably, especially when he remembered why Blaine was now wearing that shirt.
"Say, isn't that Blaine?" Burt questioned, shielding his eyes against the sun.
"Could you close the window?" Kurt asked, turning his gaze away from the other boy across the lot."It's freezing."
Burt glanced over at him, ignoring him request. "How come I never see Blaine around anymore? You two used to be inseparable."
"Close the window," Kurt snapped, curling his arms around his chest and trying to keep warm. A moment later he heard the window roll up and without looking he knew his father was watching him.
"Don't snap at me, Kurt. That uniform may allow you some slack at school, but it doesn't with me," Burt reminded him.
Kurt looked up guiltily, and instead caught sight of Blaine a few cars away. A terrible longing filled him as he took in the wild curls and the thick, rectangular glasses. In some ways Blaine hadn't changed at all, but in others – the sharper angles of his faces, the light scruff that appeared along his jaw every few days – he was nothing like the young boy Kurt remembered.
"Why don't you go hang out with him until Finn shows up?" Burt encouraged, nudging him towards the passenger side door. "Have him over this weekend or something. I miss having him around."
"Dad, it's not that simple," Kurt sighed. He stopped himself from adding anything else, from informing Burt of their different social standings or the devastating blowout they'd had two years ago. Even now Burt didn't know anything about that, only that Blaine's and his own schedule had started to conflict a lot their freshmen year.
"Why not? You two are best friends–"
"No, we aren't," Kurt mumbled sulkily. He glanced over to the old station wagon backing up out of its space. He tried to forget their friendship had ever happened, even if he missed it more than anything. He couldn't risk befriending Blaine again after he'd climbed so high. It would only drop him back to the bottom and then he'd have nothing. Blaine wouldn't forgive him, anyway. That's what he kept forcing himself to believe. The day their friendship had fallen apart the kind, sweet boy he'd cherished had been destroyed as well.
Burt was staring at him in shock. "What– "
"People drift apart, Dad," Kurt informed him, trying to sound disinterested. "It's not like you still talk to your middle school friends. You probably can't even name them."
When his father didn't argue Kurt looked out of the window again. A horde of lettermen jackets were pouring out of the doors now. He could just pick out Finn, towering over the rest of the guys.
"You and Blaine had something special, though," Burt insisted earnestly. "I'd hate for you to lose that."
He'd already lost that, though, hadn't he? Kurt had put himself first at Blaine's expense that Friday morning. In a single moment he'd destroyed the last desperate hope Blaine had clung to that somehow, despite the odds, they could make things work. That together they could defy the logic of high school and still be best friends when one of them was in a uniform and the other wasn't. "I became a Cheerio and Blaine stuck with his music. We drifted apart. Simple as that."
But he didn't look his father in the eye while he spoke, and Kurt knew Burt would realize he wasn't being wholly honest with him. It was too painful to be honest about the biggest mistake of his life. There was no changing what had happened now. He'd made his choice, as misguided as it had been, and now he had to live with it. Instead Burt eyed him thoughtfully for a few moments. Finn's face appeared next to Burt's window with a bright smile and a cheerful wave.
Burt reached down and pulled the little handle to open the car's trunk once more. "Drifted apart or fell apart?" he asked quietly.
As Finn climbed into the back Kurt remained silent. He didn't need to speak for his father to figure out the real answer. The truth had been weighing him down for too long for him to not acknowledge it. Even if it was only to himself.
Comments
:'( sooo good and well written
I love this!