Kurt walks quickly from the coffeehouse where he spent most of his time these days. He works there as an agreement with the owner to let him sing on the small stage in the corner three nights a week. He moves briskly, as typical New Yorkers tend to do, blazing a path on the sidewalk and taking no prisoners. As he weaves himself through the sea of people, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, searches through his contacts, and fires off a quick text—off work, home soon—before descending the steps to the subway.

He collapses on the bench, waiting for the train to take him to where he lives in a small apartment with his friend from his high school glee club, Rachel Berry. When the subway arrives, he climbs on tiredly and sinks into a seat near the back of the car. He leans against the window, closing his eyes with exhaustion, when a voice asks quietly, “Is this seat taken?” Kurt starts, surprised.

“Oh—no, go ahead,” he says, gesturing to the open seat next to him, before finally looking up at the man who spoke. “Blaine?”

The man meets his eyes. “K—Kurt?”

“What are you doing here?” Kurt’s tone is almost accusatory, but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen Blaine in over six years—after high school, they went to different colleges, and hadn’t kept very good contact.

“I’m visiting for a couple days—moving in a couple weeks,” Blaine says, perfectly natural, as though they had never been separated. As though they hadn’t tried to stay together during college, even though Kurt was at NYU and Blaine was at UCLA. As though they hadn’t Skyped every night for two months, before Blaine drifted further, and it became only a few times a week, then a few times a month, before fizzling down to a facebook post every once in a while, and then eventually only the obligatory ‘happy birthday’ post. As though they hadn’t been one another’s first loves. As though Blaine hadn’t been Kurt’s first real kiss, first boyfriend, first everything. Kurt was having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that after nearly six years of little to no contact, here Blaine was, sitting next to him as though no time at all had passed.

“You’re moving here in a couple weeks?”

“Yeah, I’m just here to apartment-hunt for a few days,” he says.

“Where are you staying?” Kurt immediately regrets the question once he’s asked it. He doesn’t want Blaine to think that he’s offering, or that he even has an idea in mind.

“Well—I’m not really sure,” Blaine admits sheepishly. He shoots a sideways grin at Kurt, shrugging. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I—do you want to stay with me for a bit?” Kurt blurts out without thinking. He grimaces inwardly, because isn’t that the exact question he was trying not to let come out of his mouth? But goddamn if that little smile hasn’t completely smashed the walls Kurt’s built up over the years to protect himself.
Blaine looks a little taken aback, and of course he does, he hasn’t spoken to Kurt in years and here he is acting as though they saw each other yesterday. “Are you sure? I know I can find a hotel in the city; I’ll be fine.”

But, much to his own dismay, Kurt is waving away his words with a flick of his wrist and saying “oh please, just come over to my apartment. It’s kind of small, but I’m sure we can make room for you.”

There’s a small flicker of emotion in Blaine’s eyes at the use of the word we, something Kurt can’t quite detect, and then—okay, Blaine is agreeing, and they’re getting off the subway and Kurt is leading Blaine through the streets he walks every day, and all of a sudden they’re at Kurt’s apartment. He unlocks the door, and they walk in. Rachel is clearly already in the middle of cooking dinner, judging by the delicious scents wafting in from the kitchen to the left of the door.

“So this is your apartment,” Blaine says as he looks around. “I have to say, I like your style.”

“Kurt? Who is—Blaine?” Rachel comes in from the kitchen holding a spoon, but it promptly clatters to the floor as she stands in shock. “What are you doing here?” Though she’s asking the same question Kurt did, her tone is much kinder, more curious and slightly excited, rather than rude.

“I’m apartment-hunting for a couple weeks, and Kurt offered to let me stay here,” Blaine says, and though the explanation is the same as well, his tone is decidedly more cheerful, less defensive than when he had been talking to Kurt. “When Kurt said ‘we can make room,’ I thought—I didn’t expect to see you, Rachel, but I’m glad.” He sweeps by her, picking up the spoon she dropped, and walks into kitchen where she came from as though he’d been living with them for years.

Rachel turns to Kurt, wide-eyed. Kurt shrugs. As they walk into the kitchen, Rachel whispers, “Do we like him now? Are we supposed to be nice?”

Kurt looks back at her. “Yeah, just treat him like any other friend or guest, I suppose.” Rachel tries to search his face, but Kurt avoids her eyes.

Kurt almost trips as they walk into the kitchen. Blaine looks completely at home there, stirring the sauce on the stove after opening the oven door to check on the chicken. He looks so natural there, Kurt can almost forget the fact that Rachel’s there, that they don’t live together, that they’re not dating anymore.

Rachel rushes to take his place, insisting that Kurt take Blaine on a tour of the apartment, and that she could fix dinner herself.

“Well, there’s not much to see, but alright,” Kurt gestures to Blaine in a sort of ‘come on’ move, and they’re walking out of the kitchen back to where they came in the door. “So here’s the living room, and there’s the pullout couch—that’s probably where you’ll be, if you don’t mind.” Blaine shakes his head silently and they continue down the hall. “Now the only door on your left is Rachel’s bedroom. The first door on your right is my bathroom, and the second door is my room. That’s basically it. I did say it was small,” Kurt shrugs.

Blaine’s eyes linger just a second too long on the sliver of Kurt’s room he can see through the slightly-ajar door before Rachel calls out that dinner is finished. As they move toward the kitchen, Blaine thanks Kurt for letting him stay, and nudges his arm. Kurt tries very hard to keep his face clear of emotion. But there’s no way Blaine doesn’t feel the electricity Kurt felt when their skin made contact.

Blaine and Rachel fall into easy conversation during dinner, catching up and teasing each other as though there had been no separation. Kurt struggles not to show the effect Blaine has on him. He tries not to show the feeling that Blaine is everything Kurt’s been searching for during the past six years. Every boyfriend Kurt’s had—and there haven’t been many—has reminded him of Blaine in some way. One had Blaine’s small frame and height, one shared his love for Disney, and another even had similarly curly hair. Only two had lasted past a month. He couldn’t say he’d been in love with any of them.

As the three sat around the dinner table, Kurt realized that he wasn’t over Blaine—not even a little bit. He was being drawn in again by his humor, his puppy-like excitement about even the littlest things, his eyes. His eyes, which were the most mesmerizing shade of hazel, which held so much expression in such little space, which rendered Kurt’s brain useless every time he looked at him. Those eyes had been Kurt’s world at one point, and now that they were just across the table, he found that he could still drown in them just as easily.

All of a sudden, he notices that both Rachel and Blaine are looking at him expectantly. “What?” he asks quickly, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Had Blaine noticed him staring?

“I was just telling Blaine that you’ll be singing tomorrow night at the Daily Grind,” Rachel says, her eyes cautious.

“And I said I’d love to come hear you,” Blaine adds. “I miss hearing your voice.”

Kurt blocks out the last part of Blaine’s words. He can’t let Blaine affect him like this anymore. “Sure, that—” he clears his throat. “That’d be great.” And then Blaine is smiling at him again and Kurt is looking away before he can get lost.

The next morning Kurt walks by the living room on his way to eat breakfast before heading to work. The sight of Blaine on his couch makes him stop short. His face is so peaceful. Kurt is attacked with an onslaught of memories of waking up next to Blaineduring the weekends and in the summer, cuddled up next to his warm body, the sense of serenity washing over them both. Kurt shakes the thoughts from his head and moves about the kitchen quietly before slipping out the door to work, before anyone else has the chance to wake up.

As the before-work crowd comes to a close and the shop hits its midmorning lull, David turns to Kurt. “What happened to you? You’ve had the weirdest range of expressions today.”

“Oh—an old friend showed up unexpectedly yesterday,” he responds to his friend. David was straight, and he was the closest thing to a best friend that Kurt had. He knew all about Kurt’s past in glee club, and his struggles with finding a man that didn’t remind him somehow of Blaine.

“One of your friends from glee club? Or from college?”

“Blaine.”

Kurt’s one-word response stuns David. “Wait, what?”

Kurt doesn’t respond.

“What is he even doing here?”

“He’s apartment hunting. He’s coming to live here in a couple weeks.”

“So he’s gonna be around for a while.”

“Looks like it,” Kurt shrugs.

“What the hell, Kurt? Why was this not the first thing out of your mouth when you came in this morning?”

“Because I’m trying to ignore it, alright?” Kurt replies angrily. “I’m trying to ignore the fact that every time I look at him my heart rips out of my chest and just as I thought I was getting over him he walks back into my life, good-looking and charming as always. And the fact that he’s sleeping on my pullout couch right now, looking like he belongs in my apartment, like he could be there every night, and I just can’t. I’m not thinking about it because I might break down and I can’t do that here, I just can’t.” Kurt leant his back against the pastry display and slides to the ground, knees bent and head in hands.

“Hey,” David says softly, sliding down next to him. “It’s alright. You’ll sing tonight and get him out of your system and when you go home everything will be better. In the meantime you and I can go out for lunch on our break and forget all about him.”

Kurt takes in a shuddering breath. “Right. Hey, you know—”

He’s interrupted by a voice calling out, “Hello?”

David promptly stands up, asking, “Can I help you?”

“I was actually coming to see my friend, Kurt. I thought he worked here?” Blaine’s voice is unmistakable.

David glances surreptitiously at Kurt on the ground, shaking his head violently, before responding “He’s actually taking his break now.”

“That’s alright,” Blaine says cheerfully. “I’ll take a medium drip and a grande mocha while I wait for him.” As David prepares the drink, Blaine engages him in lively conversation and Kurt slips quietly to the back room. He washes his face, and David comes in under the pretense of letting Kurt know he had a visitor.

“Are you okay? I can send him away if you don’t want to talk to him. But holy shit, Kurt. He knows your coffee order. How long did you say it’s been?”

“No,” Kurt says, ignoring the question. “I need to talk to him sooner rather than later.” He takes another deep breath and walks out. Blaine’s face lights up, and Kurt steels himself. Blaine can’t look at him like he’s the best part about today, he just can’t, or he’s going to break Kurt without even trying. He sits at his table and Blaine slides one of the coffees toward him.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt thinks this is a question people have been asking more than usual recently.

“You and Rachel don’t have a coffeemaker,” Blaine shrugs, like it’s the most natural response in the world.

“Yeah, well, I get enough coffee here, and Rachel doesn’t drink it,” Kurt says.

“And I wanted to talk to you.” Blaine continues as if Kurt hadn’t said anything. Kurt doesn’t know how to respond.

“How have you been?”

“What do you want, Blaine?” Kurt sighs, exasperated.

“I don’t—what do you mean?” To his credit, Blaine seems genuinely puzzled, as though he truly doesn’t know what the problem is.

“Blaine, what are you doing in New York? What do you even want to talk to me for?”

“I want to talk to you because we haven’t done much of that lately. And I’m moving to New York because my boyfriend got a job here and my firm is allowing me to switch to a branch here.” Kurt stops listening after ‘boyfriend.’ His brain shuts down. There is no point. Blaine is taken, Kurt is miserable, and that’s always how it will be. Of course that’s why Blaine is moving here. Of course he’s moved on. Of course he’s been able to find someone more worthy than Kurt to date and spend his life with.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find a nice place here in the city—” Kurt tries to extract himself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you; I think I found a place in your apartment complex that would fit us nicely, and I’d love it if we could be near you and Rachel as well.” Kurt flinches every time Blaine uses the plural pronouns—us, we—and he thinks about encountering him every day in the elevator, in the lobby, at their mailboxes, and for a minute it doesn’t seem too bad. But then he pictures Blaine holding hands with someone else, talking with someone else, being with someone else, and his mental image takes on a red tone. He can’t handle it. There’s no way he’d be able to see Blaine being happy with someone else every day and not remain as miserable as ever.

But of course, he’s trained himself to hide his emotions, to keep up the hard outer shell that prevents other people from knowing how he truly feels, and he smiles. “That sounds great, Blaine. Really.”

And Blaine smiles, relieved, and says— “So is this where you’re singing tonight?”

And Kurt nods, and says that he’ll be home before then, though. So Blaine finishes his coffee and they talk about inane things like the weather and the city and avoid any kind of deeper levels of conversation they can.

——

When Kurt gets home that night, Rachel is out to dinner with her fianc�e Finn, planning to meet them at the coffeeshop later that night, and Blaine is nowhere to be found. Kurt goes into his closet and he tries to find an outfit for his show tonight. He’s not quite sure why he’s stressing so much and why all of a sudden it seems like he has nothing to wear when everything in his wardrobe is in season and flattering and he likes his clothes. Settling on a pair of skinny gray pants that show off his ass nicely and a navy button down, he goes into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine to drink before leaving to sing.

Blaine opens the door suddenly, walking into the apartment as if he lived there, and walks into the kitchen. He tosses his keys onto the table and Kurt almost chokes because the movement seems so familiar, like he’d been doing it for years. Sitting down at the table across from him, Blaine just looks. He doesn’t say anything, just sits, perfectly content to gaze at Kurt as if there’s nothing else interesting to look at. As Kurt sets down his glass, about to ask Blaine a question, he speaks.

“Rachel gave me an extra key, that’s why I could just walk in. I hope that’s okay,” he added nervously as an afterthought, still looking at Kurt, who nods almost imperceptibly. “I’m really excited to hear you sing tonight, Kurt. I’ve always loved your voice.” Kurt drains the rest of his wine and stands up suddenly, because he can’t let this conversation turn into a reminiscing session.

“I have to go,” he says by way of explanation. “Don’t want to be late.” Blaine just watches him leave, and although his eyes may linger on Kurt’s back (or backside) a little longer than normal, there’s still the fact that Blaine is taken and Kurt is still miserably single, but the problem isn’t New York boys’ lack of interest in him, it’s his lack of interest in anyone that isn’t Blaine.

As he walks up to the stage that night, guitar in hand, he is more nervous than he’s been in years. He tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s a Friday night and the crowd always expects more on Fridays, but he knows it’s because of Blaine. It’s because of the way Blaine found him right before the show, because Blaine wished him luck and clapped his shoulder, because the tingles he feels when they make contact never cease, because he knows that Blaine’s approval or disapproval will mean more to him than anyone else’s.

“Hey everyone, I’m Kurt. I play every Monday, Thursday, and Friday night here at the Daily Grind, so thanks for coming out.”

He begins to pluck out the first few notes. He’s learned guitar while in college, and he’s found it to be a useful tool in both booking gigs and performing spontaneously. Kurt usually begins with his own versions of a few top 40 hits to warm the crowd up before using music that isn’t as widely known. He knows as soon as he begins to sing that Misery was a bad choice for tonight. It describes too much of his current emotions, reminds him too much of his time with the Warblers, and by extension—Blaine. He immediately regrets his entire setlist for the night, as one song after another reminds him of Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. They make eye contact every once in a while—Kurt tries to avoid it as much as possible, but the temptation of watching Blaine’s reaction to his performance proves itself to be too great, and he can’t help looking. Kurt occasionally catches a flash of nostalgia in his eyes, along with a glint of something he can’t quite get a hold of before it’s gone again.

He finishes his set with Teenage Dream, another horrible decision. He feels himself struggling to even make it through the song—their song. This is the song that made him fall in love with Blaine, the song that had so quickly been labeled theirs, the song that held so many memories of stolen kisses and teenage love that seemed as if it would last forever. He doesn’t look at Blaine for its entire duration, focusing instead on his guitar and the other friendly patrons in the crowd. When he finishes and looks up again, Blaine is gone. He says a quick closing, a short thank you, and hurries off the stage and outside.

A glance to the left reveals Blaine leaning against the wall, head back, eyes closed, hands in his pockets. When Kurt approaches him, he turns his head toward him and opens his eyes.

“Stellar, Kurt, really. You’re as magnificent as ever; your voice is always remarkable.” But there’s something else in his voice, something he quickly covers up with “I know Daniel will love to hear you sing when he moves here with me.” And all of a sudden the moment is lost, and Kurt can’t take the compliment graciously so he doesn’t say anything else, and they share a silent cab back to the apartment. Rachel is staying over at Finn’s, so the two are all alone. As Kurt finishes his moisturizing routine, he hears Blaine on the phone—with Daniel, he presumes—and it sounds as though the conversation is a pleasant one. When Blaine ends the call with a “love you,” Kurt knows he can’t do this anymore.

In the morning, Kurt hints gently at the fact that maybe Blaine should find somewhere else to stay for that night before he moves back. And even though he looks slightly hurt, Kurt can’t find it in himself to feel too bad, because Blaine has already broken his heart countless times since arriving in New York.

And that day at work, David just hugs him for a while. He doesn’t question it and he doesn’t make Kurt talk about it; he just lets Kurt know that he’s always there as silent support, and this characteristic, Kurt thinks, is one of the best things about David.

——

A few weeks later, Kurt meets a new man in the elevator, a man who introduces himself as Daniel, and although Kurt instantly wants to hate him on principle, he’s actually really nice and really funny and really good-looking, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Blaine’s better off after all. They quickly become friends, and although it pains Kurt every time they get together and he sees Blaine and Daniel holding hands, he tries to focus on how happy Blaine is. Because when you really love someone, you want what’s best for them, right? The only problem is that Kurt also wants what’s best for him, and he knows that’s Blaine. But Blaine is focused on Daniel, and Kurt is forever the third wheel. Daniel and Blaine set up several dates for Kurt, all of which he claim don’t work out for various reasons. Eventually, they stop trying to set him up and the three of them fall into a comfortable friendship.

Kurt still sings at the Daily Grind every Monday, Thursday, and Friday; Blaine and Daniel come to see him often and then all three will go out for drinks afterward, and sometimes even David will join them.

But then one time Blaine comes by himself. He doesn’t stay afterward to talk to Kurt, and Kurt can’t be sure he was even there, but the fact that he was alone was good enough for Kurt. He changes his setlist that night, singing songs about lost love and missing you and being heartbroken because the one you love is just out of reach. After his performance, Kurt and David have a long talk over coffee, about anything and everything, and for a moment Kurt thinks that maybe this is good, maybe he is moving on after all. The music is like therapy and once he’s gotten that out of his system, he can find someone new.

But soon after that night, Blaine and Daniel break up. The reason is never fully explained to Kurt. All he knows is that Daniel moves out of the apartment complex and he doesn’t know why this breakup seems so significant to him, when he wasn’t involved and he’s finally moving on from Blaine, he is.

Blaine becomes Kurt’s best friend—apart from David—and the two become almost inseparable. Kurt, despite his best efforts to move on, still sometimes pretends that they’re together. But the mental images of Blaine pressing his lips to Kurt’s remain fantasies, and the two never move beyond friends.

Then one day Blaine’s gone. He’s moved out of his apartment and left a short voicemail telling Kurt he was moving back to LA to be with Daniel again, and Kurt is left broken, even more so than the first breakup, because this time he thought they were going somewhere, he thought they were making progress, even just being friends was becoming fine, and all of a sudden everything is wrenched from him—again.

David finds him on the couch in his unlocked apartment, clutching his phone, silent tears falling down his face. Sitting him up, he slings an arm around his shoulders, and sits with him. He sits there until the tears stop, and then leaves to bring back two cups of coffee.

They have a long conversation, reminiscent of the night that Blaine had come to see Kurt alone. But this time Kurt explains more, explains that he had tried to make it work with Blaine, but he never felt he was good enough, and this was just more confirmation. He explains that Blaine had slowly drifted away, before breaking it off completely. He explained how demolished he had felt, and how he couldn’t understand what went wrong. That night, David stays over, stays as support and comfort, and the next day starts to slowly rebuild Kurt.

Over the next few months, Kurt comes to realize that David is the best friend Kurt’s ever had. He doesn’t force him to talk, doesn’t force him to come out with him at night, doesn’t force him to do anything except make coffee at work every day. He doesn’t criticize Kurt for singing nothing but depressing songs every Monday, Thursday, and Friday for weeks until he starts to heal.

——

“Good morning.” The voice is so cheerful, so opposite of what Kurt is feeling, that he’s forced to look up and meet the bluest eyes he’s ever seen apart from his own. “Would you mind making me a caramel latte?” Kurt shakes his head and makes the drink, taking the man’s money and joins in the light conversation.

The man’s name is James, and he begins to come in every morning at precisely 8:16 am, asking for a caramel latte. Then one day he asks for a date as well. Kurt should have known something was different about today, when James came in at 8:06, ten minutes before Kurt was expecting him.

“Hi, Kurt.” James’ voice is softer than usual, and he seems to have difficulty meeting Kurt’s eyes. They fall back into their easy banter as Kurt makes the drink he can create with his eyes closed at this point. As he hands James his drink, he opens his mouth to mention that he’s early, when James blurts out— “Are you busy tonight?” Kurt’s mouth falls open a little wider, and before he can even respond, James is continuing with, “I know it’s a Wednesday, and it’s weird, but I just want to take you to dinner and to talk to you for longer than the three minutes I get to see you here every morning and to get to know you a little better, Kurt, because you’re funny and you’re gorgeous and I just—”

“Yes, James, alright? Yes,” Kurt is smiling and even giggling a little bit at James’ obvious (and unnecessary) nervousness. James dazzles Kurt with a relieved smile, wide and genuine, before they exchange information and James hurries off to work, still grinning.

“You know, I was wondering when you were going to ask me out,” Kurt mentions casually at dinner that night, and James blanches.

“You—what?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know,” Kurt teases. “I was just wondering how long it would take you to pluck up the courage to actually ask. Faster than I thought, to be honest. I thought it would take you at least another week or two.”

“Maybe you’re just irresistible,” James teases back, and Kurt laughs.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

The date goes surprisingly well. Kurt doesn’t think of Blaine once, and when James gives him a chaste kiss goodnight outside his apartment door, Kurt even feels the beginnings of butterflies in his stomach. This is someone he likes, and maybe could even love sometime in the future, he thinks.

James continues to come for coffee in the mornings, precisely at 8:16 as always, and David loves it, loves that Kurt is finally moving on, and he encourages the relationship as much as possible. James starts coming to hear Kurt sing, and soon he’s at the Daily Grind every time Kurt is performing.

One day, David and Kurt agree to double, and the four meet at their favorite pizza place for a casual dinner before heading out to the clubs.

“Melanie, it’s so good to meet you,” James says after introducing himself.

“I’ve heard so much about you from David and Kurt.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Of course, nothing but,” he assures her. The conversation is easy, the company is friendly, and Kurt is having a great time. When they reach the club later that night, Kurt and Melanie are left to find a table while David and James are buying drinks.

Melanie turns to Kurt and asks, “How long have you and James been together?”

“A few months,” Kurt responds, “why do you ask?”

“It just seems like you two are really sweet together. But not necessarily as boyfriends, more like best friends—with maybe some benefits.”

The observation floors Kurt. He had thought they were just comfortable together. Yeah, maybe James did kiss him on the forehead more than the lips, and maybe they didn’t stay over at each other’s apartments a lot, and maybe they did hold hands instead of each other’s waists, but he thought they were just taking it slow. He hadn’t thought that maybe they weren’t meant to be together.

James and David return to the table, and Kurt downs his drink so fast one might almost say he chugged it—but Kurt doesn’t chug drinks, he’s too high class for that—and pulls James out to the dance floor. Kurt dances as provocatively as he ever has, and James seems surprised but willing to grind right back against Kurt’s hips. Kurt continues to drink, and so does James. The two forget David and Melanie are even there. As they move so closely together, Kurt can feel James’ hardness grinding against his thigh, and pulls him down for a kiss. The kiss isn’t gentle in the slightest, and Kurt is putting all sorts of fierce emotions into it, and when James breathes “Want to get out of here?” in his ear, he nods, and they rush outside to catch a cab. They can’t even control themselves in the back of the cab, and Kurt ends up on James’ lap, and when they get to James’ apartment they rush upstairs. They barely make it to the bedroom, pressing each other against the back of the door and the walls in the hallway, leaving a trail of clothing behind them. That night, Kurt takes control, fucking James hard and rough, trying to deny the realization that he doesn’t feel anything apart from physical pleasure.

The next morning, their legs are tangled together, and one of Kurt’s arms is around James’ back, and still there’s nothing. There’s no rush of affection, no feeling of peace or sleepy happiness that should come with the morning after. Breakfast that morning hosts an interesting conversation, in which James knows that Kurt doesn’t feel much, and is forced to admit that he doesn’t feel much either, but wasn’t it nice not to be alone for a while? Kurt has to agree, being alone is far worse. But the two still split, albeit amicably, and life moves on.

——

It’s a Monday night when Blaine comes back. Mondays are usually the slowest, emptiest nights of the week. It’s this fact that allows Kurt to see Blaine in the back corner of the coffeeshop, trying to unobtrusively listen and not be noticed. Unfortunately, Kurt’s eyes are still trained to find Blaine’s, even in crowds, and he has a hard time looking away. This night his setlist is full of songs about moving on, about realizing that what you want isn’t always what you need, and Kurt has a hard time focusing on the meaning behind his words; Blaine’s presence seems to eliminate all truth behind them. But he’s gone before the last song is over, not even staying to talk, and Kurt stays for a while, helping David and Jenny, a new employee, clean up, avoiding going home. He knows that when he’s alone in his apartment—Rachel had since moved in with Finn—he’ll have to face his emotions alone, and he’s not sure he can handle that just yet. David stops him with a hand on his elbow, giving him a look that asks if he’ll be alright, if he wants David to come over for a bit. Kurt shakes his head—he’s not sure at which part—and leaves with his guitar.

Kurt arrives at his apartment and reaches for the tequila. He knows he can’t handle the idea of Blaine without assistance tonight. He’s been ignoring Blaine’s existence and anything that reminds him of his appearance, or personality, or their relationship for the past few months. Seeing him without warning tonight had been the catalyst for too many mental images, memories, hopes that he had been trying to suppress. The tequila does its job, it makes him forget, and he falls into a calm sleep.

But that Thursday Blaine is back. Kurt struggles through his set. He hates it; he hates how Blaine has this kind of control over him. He does all he can just to finish the songs without breaking, avoiding Blaine’s gaze the entire time. Kurt rushes home with just a “see you tomorrow” to David, and collapses on his couch. He sits with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees for who knows how long, before there’s an insistent knocking on the door. Someone’s desperate for his attention, and apparently doesn’t have any qualms about knocking the door down to get to him.

Kurt walks over and opens the door carefully. There, in his doorway, is Blaine, head down, arms outstretched to either side of the doorframe, breathing heavily.

Kurt takes in a shuddering breath. “Blaine.” It’s not a question.

Blaine looks up, and his expression is unreadable. There’s desperation and regret and hope and even lust in his eyes, as he manages—“I had to know—your lips—” His eyes flicker down to Kurt’s and all of a sudden they’re pressing together. The kiss is rough and full of tongue and even some teeth as Blaine pushes himself as close to Kurt as possible, pulling him in tight. Their bodies are so close Kurt can’t tell one from the other, and he breaks away to breathe. Blaine kicks the door closed behind him as he moves his mouth down Kurt’s jaw to his neck, stopping briefly to suck on the joint between neck and shoulder before moving back up to capture Kurt’s lips in his own.

Kurt leads them to his room, and Blaine takes a moment to observe his surroundings before reaching for Kurt’s jeans. Pushing them down quickly, Blaine whispers is this okay? into Kurt’s ear. He can only nod breathlessly as Blaine sinks to his knees. Taking him into his mouth, Kurt’s brain short-circuits, and he isn’t capable of any rational thought apart from “yes, Blaine, god,” before his hips jerk forward involuntarily as Blaine drags his tongue up the underside of his cock and then wraps his lips around the head, sucking hard. And then all at once he’s dragging Blaine up by the shoulders and smashing their lips together again, moving them toward the bed.

The two move closely, separating only to rid themselves of their clothes, and then it’s all skin on skin and roaming hands with tight grips that are sure to leave bruises in the morning and lips that manage to be everywhere at once. Blaine’s hands are sure and strong against Kurt’s lithe frame, and Kurt reaches for the lube. Blaine takes it from him and begins to prepare himself, leaving Kurt surprised; this isn’t what usually happens at this point. But then Blaine is growling need you to fuck me against his skin and how is Kurt supposed to argue with that? Blaine reaches for Kurt’s cock and begins to spread the lube over him as well, before moving to lie on his back, pulling the backs of his knees up, leaving himself completely opened and exposed for Kurt, and wow, this position is new. Kurt isn’t used to seeing Blaine like this, in the vulnerable role, that’s usually his job, and isn’t that just fucking symbolic of their entire relationship. But Blaine is willing to be the vulnerable one for tonight, and Kurt is all too happy to make him feel the way it did for Kurt when he left—again.

There’s too much passion in this action to just be a quick fuck, and Kurt can’t quite handle the emotions he’s feeling, so he just pushes harder, faster, and there are groans and breathy whispers of encouragement, and the two are moving in sync, the way they always have. Kurt closes his eyes; he can’t handle looking at Blaine right now, looking at those eyes that hold so much emotion, looking at him like he’s something unique and special and wanted. All of a sudden, it’s too much, his body is experiencing sensory overload, and it seems like Blaine is experiencing the same thing. The two fall over the edge together, still jerking their hips and gripping each other’s waists, and Kurt pulls out of Blaine. The cool air reaches his cock and he shivers, reaching for his underwear, but Blaine pulls him closer.

“Not yet.” The words are so quiet, whispered against his neck, that he’s not sure if he just imagined them, but he allows himself to be pulled back into Blaine’s embrace. This feels familiar, so common, like there hasn’t been any time at all between the last time this happened and now. Kurt almost starts crying from the feeling that this could happen everyday, from the memories of when this did happen everyday, but Kurt doesn’t do that anymore. He doesn’t cry; he keeps up his hard outer shell to protect his true emotions. And as he drifts off to sleep, he lets his thoughts become blissfully empty, ignoring the thoughts and emotions swirling around in his brain.

——

The next morning, Kurt wakes up alone. He sits up, and it takes him a second to realize why this feels wrong, when he’s been waking up alone in his bed for years now. The memories of the previous night assault him all at once; he tries to ignore them and gets up to go to work, as always. Looking over himself in the mirror, he has bruises on his hips and hickeys on his throat, tangible proof that it hadn’t just been a dream, that he hadn’t just imagined it all. But Blaine is nowhere to be found in his apartment, and Kurt just sighs and tries to ignore the fact that his heart feels like it’s been ripped out of his chest and is in pieces on the floor as he goes to work.

David takes one look at his face when Kurt walks in the door and tries to send him home, but Kurt needs this, he needs this distraction to keep him from completely breaking down, so he lets him stay. They work through their shift together, and David proves that he is the best friend ever once again by not making him talk or cry or anything else.

It’s Friday, and Kurt doesn’t really feel like performing tonight, but he had already worked out his setlist a few weeks ago, back when he was with James, and he knows that he has regular attendees that he doesn’t want to disappoint, but still he holds his guitar with a stronger grip than usual as he climbs up to the stage.

As he looks at the paper he taped to the stage in advance, he mentally smacks himself, because fuck if these songs aren’t about being happy and smiling and liking the person you’re with. He tries to make it through the performance as fast as possible, and he doesn’t look up from his guitar as he struggles through the songs, somehow making the happy tunes he chose into ironic, sarcastic ballads about love and happiness, and the sincerity isn’t really there.

He looks up, trying to find David, to signal that he’s going to cut the show short tonight, he just can’t do this, when he finds himself staring into an all-too-familiar pair of hazel eyes. Kurt’s words falter and his hands stutter on his guitar before he finishes the song, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s. He mutters out an incoherent apology as he leaves the stage and his guitar and walks out of the Daily Grind, not trusting himself to look back. He hears Blaine following him, calling out his name, and he doesn’t turn around. His resolve has been slowly cracking ever since Blaine returned to New York, left, and returned again, and he’s afraid if he stops even for a second that he’ll burst into tears or fall into Blaine’s arms, and the hope of retaining any sense of pride will be lost.

But then Blaine catches up to him, breathing hard and stopping him underneath a streetlight. The yellow glow of the artificial light illuminates Blaine’s face, and his eyes are unreadable, full of something dark and sad. Kurt looks away, avoiding eye contact again, as he sighs and asks quietly, “Why are you here?”

“I can’t, Kurt. I just can’t anymore.” Blaine answers, sounding defeated, and Kurt looks up in surprise to find him looking at the ground, avoiding eye contact with him as resolutely as Kurt was avoiding eye contact with Blaine.

“Can’t what, Blaine?”

He takes in a shuddering breath. “I can’t pretend I don’t care about you anymore. I just—fuck, Kurt, you scare the shit out of me. You’ve scared me since we were teenagers. I didn’t think it was possible to be so connected to another person, to be so dependent on someone else. We kissed and it felt like you were everything I had been missing forever, like you crawled inside of me. You were in my veins, Kurt. And it terrified me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t like that for you; I was your first boyfriend, and you could do so much better than me. So I had to let you go, I had to let you see if there was someone better out there, but it killed me. I couldn’t even really break it off, I just let us drift apart, which was somehow even worse, because it just drew out the pain, like a slow, painful death. Kurt, I—fuck—I am so in love with you. I never stopped loving you. I knew you were in New York, and I couldn’t stay away. I kept coming back; even when I knew you had probably moved on. Last night, I just had to know if your lips still felt the same on mine as they always had. I just had to know—god, you scare me to death, Kurt. I get that you probably don’t even want to see me anymore, but—” Kurt cuts him off, placing an arm on his elbow.

“You still love me?” Kurt’s eyes are so full of hope, despite his attempts to hide his emotions.

“Always,” Blaine breathes out, and Kurt is pulling him closer, placing his lips gently on his, and Blaine makes an unintelligible noise. He grips the back of Kurt’s neck and draws him in deeper, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before sliding it into Kurt’s mouth, and then he’s sighing happily into the kiss. Kurt pulls away first, leaning their foreheads together.

“Why did you leave this morning?” It’s an important question, one he needs to know the answer to before they move on, before he lets anything else happen.

“I woke up and I saw you, Kurt. I was holding you in my arms and it felt like everything I ever needed, and I couldn’t do it. I felt what you did the night before—I felt the fact that for you, it was just a one-night fuck, and I couldn’t handle the thought of your rejection in the morning, and I ran. I wouldn’t be able to hold myself together if you had looked at me and decided no, this isn’t what I want, so I left.”

“But you are what I want,” Kurt said, looking down. “You’ve always been what I want. That wasn’t just a one-night stand, Blaine. I was feeling too many things and I tried to fuck them away, I tried to make myself not feel what I was feeling, because I knew you might leave me again—” Blaine’s arms tightened around Kurt.

“I love you.” Blaine interrupts, and Kurt meets his eyes.

“I love you too.”

The two just gaze at each other, drinking in the fact that this is real, that their feelings are requited, that they can hold each other and kiss each other finally, after so many years of being apart. Finally, Blaine pulls back slightly, still keeping his arms around Kurt’s waist.

“I’m moving to New York soon; do you have any idea where I could stay?” Kurt gives a small laugh and moves in to kiss him quickly.

“How do you feel about living with your boyfriend?” And they move in closer and their lips are grinning against each other’s and they can’t pull apart and so they just stay there under the streetlight for what feels like an eternity before Kurt pulls away, pulling Blaine by the hand to his apartment.