“Don’t go, stay here with me.” Blaine murmured, the two of them lying snuggled up in Blaine’s dorm watching the 25th anniversary performance of Les Miserables live at the O2 in London.
Kurt smiled. “Forever?” He asked looking up at Blaine.
“Forever.” Blaine agreed and Kurt chuckled softly, leaning up to give his boyfriend a brief kiss on the lips.
“But, as much as it pains me, I really do have to go.” He said, pulling away and swinging his legs off of the bed.
“Oh come on, five more minutes? Please…” Blaine almost begged, quickly trapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and attempting to tug him back into their own little musical bubble.
“The sooner I leave, the sooner I can come back.” Kurt smiled, hitching his messenger bag over his shoulder and straightening his hair out in the mirror on the back of Blaine’s door.
He opened the door, looking back at Blaine still cuddled up underneath the blanket. He looked sort of like an abandoned puppy dog.
“Hurry back to me.” He whispered, reaching for the almost empty bucket of extra-salty popcorn.
“Always.” Kurt grinned back, catching the piece of popcorn that Blaine lobbed at him in his mouth.
He shut the door behind him as he wandered through the halls of the dorm he’d gotten so used to spending all of his free time in. As much as he wanted to go back to McKinley, he didn’t know if he was ready to part with the honeymoon-stage of his new relationship just yet.
He walked down the steps outside of Blaine’s dorm building, heading towards his Dad’s old beat up Chevy. He crossed the car park and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hey, Dad.” He said, setting his bag down on the floor between his feet.
“Hey, Kurt. How was studying with Blaine?” His Dad asked him as they pulled out of Dalton and began the 45 minute journey back to McKinley.
“Great. I might actually pass Math.” He joked, thankful that his Dad and Step-Mom didn’t know that he was already making A’s in almost everything – claiming he was barely passing some of Dalton’s more difficult classes was just a convenient excuse that meant he could visit Blaine for extra “tutoring sessions” far more often.
“Are you sure? Because we could get you a tutor if you’re worried? I mean … it might stretch things a little further, but if you need the extra help then—“ Kurt cut off his Dad mid-sentence.
“Don’t worry, Dad. Blaine is a … very good teacher.” Kurt tried to hide the smile in his voice, and stop his mind wandering to some of his other late night visits to Blaine’s dorm room…
“Kurt? Are you listening to me at all?” Burt asked his over-preoccupied son.
“What? Yep, totally.” Kurt nodded, hoping he wasn’t agreeing to anything to ghastly.
Burt wasn’t fooled by his son’s pretences whatsoever.
“I said, are you sure you’re ready to go back and face Karofsky?” Burt asked again.
Kurt was silent again.
“I have to face him at some point.” He said slowly. “And better in the principal’s office with witnesses around than in a dark alley at two in the morning.” He finished darkly.
“What would you be doing in a dark alley at two in the morning?” Burt asked his son, Kurt mentally kicking himself. His father definitely did not need to know that he frequently snuck out of the house in the middle of the night, and when Blaine couldn’t get out to pick him up, he would have to walk from his house to the nearest bus stop, a route that took him through many a lonely dark road although luckily for him the bus dropped him almost right outside of Dalton Academy.
“I mean … rhetorically speaking.” Kurt said, with such a dismissive air of confidence that Burt believed him.
They pulled up into the parking lot of Kurt’s old high school. Kurt suddenly felt nervous – mostly because it was strange to come back here, walking the familiar halls with a visitors badge pinned to his chest, as opposed to being one of the many teenagers wandering aimlessly to their next lesson.
He took a deep, calming breath as he walked into Principal Figgins’ office. His phone buzzed against his leg and he quickly checked it before the meeting started.
Remember: COURAGE. Don’t let him intimidate you. P.s Hurry back to me, baby. --Blaine
He smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket, repeating Blaine’s words in his head like a mantra as Karofsky and his father walked in, taking the seats opposite them.
***
Kurt felt bittersweet about the whole situation. On one hand, he was flying. He was going back to McKinley. He was going home. On the other hand … well on the other hand, there was Blaine. Perfect Blaine at Dalton, who was most likely laying in bed in sweats and a Harry Potter t-shirt, his curls free and untamed, laying wide awake wondering why Kurt wasn’t calling him back or answering his texts. He knew it was cowardly. But he didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. Not that he was particularly relishing the thought of saying it too his face either, but—
He was jolted out of his train of thought by a tapping on the window.
What in the world?
Kurt glanced down at his phone. It was almost two thirty in the morning.
There were further taps on his window. He slowly slid out of bed and crept over to the window, jumping as another small stone hit the glass. He peaked out of the window and down to the driveway below.
“Kurt? Kurt!” Someone hissed.
Though Kurt was scared of the coming conversation, he couldn’t help but be flattered by Blaine’s dedication to getting his attention.
“Kurt, if you do not open that window right now, I swear I will just call your Dad and ask him what the hell is going on!” Blaine whisper-yelled as Kurt quietly slid the window open.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Come back to Dalton with me. Stay over.” Blaine called up to the window quietly, his eyes silently pleading for Kurt to comply.
Kurt warred with his conscience for a moment. He could leave early in the morning and be back before everyone else was up – and seeing as tomorrow was a Saturday he could almost guarantee that as long as he left Dalton by half past eight – nine at the latest, he would be home by twenty past nine and back in bed before anyone realised he was gone.
He nodded, sliding the window shut behind him and chucking a change of clothes for tomorrow and the pyjamas he was wearing into his bag. He hurriedly threw on a pair of dark jeans with a white T-shirt and a thick woollen cardigan to keep him warm in the chilly Ohio night. He slid his feet into a pair of boots and crept out of his room, down the stairs and towards the front door.
“Going somewhere?” Finn’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
He wasn’t worried though, he could smell the beer on Finn’s breath across the small hallway.
“Blaine’s. I won’t tell them what time you got in if you don’t tell them what time I left.” He half smiled as he gestured to the clock.
Finn chuckled quietly and nodded.
“Deal.” He whispered as Kurt opened the door and pulled it almost silently closed behind him.
He walked straight out of the house and into Blaine’s arms, burying his face in his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.” He murmured as Blaine took his hand and led him back to his car.
“You never came back.” Blaine whispered as they drove away.
“I didn’t know what to say.” Kurt whispered back. The rest of the journey was spent in silence, the pair sneaking glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. The routine of Kurt being snuck into Blaine’s dorm was one that they had done a million times since Kurt transferred. Blaine flicked on the light as Kurt set his bag down on the floor by his desk, sinking into the chair in front of it.
Finally, Blaine broke the tense silence.
“I’ve been going out of my mind, Kurt! You went to a meeting with Karofsky and you never came back. You didn’t answer my calls…you didn’t answer my texts…what…what the hell happened?” He asked, getting louder and louder until he was almost yelling as he ran one hand through his unruly natural curls.
“Blaine, I’m so sorry that I’m such a coward.” Kurt mumbled, silently cursing himself as he felt tears welling up in his eyes.
“What happened?” Blaine asked again, picking up the bottle of water on his nightstand just to give him something to hold. Or throw.
“I didn’t want to talk about this on the phone, Blaine! Can’t you understand that?” Kurt asked, almost pleading though he knew he was the one in the wrong.
“Yeah, I can understand that Kurt, but you could have just texted me and told me to come over or something! Can you not appreciate how worried I’ve been?” Blaine countered, twisting the water bottle around in his hands.
“I’m sorry, Blaine. So sorry. I know I’m a coward. I just … I … I feel so…conflicted.” Kurt said, his voice trailing off, before breaking. He felt a tear drop trickle onto his cheek and he wiped it away in frustration.
“About?” Blaine asked flatly. But he was cracking. Oh believe him, he wanted to be angry with Kurt, but there was just something so vulnerable and scared and downright adorable about him. Oh damn him and his cuteness…
“I’m…I’m leaving. I’m going back to McKinley.” Kurt said quietly.
Except the way he said it sounded more like, I’m leaving you.
Blaine’s face fell.
“You don’t sound conflicted.”
“But I am! I miss the new directions … so much. But leaving here … leaving you …” Kurt trailed off, shaking his head, brushing away another tear.
“And you thought that by not calling me back I’d just what? Forget about it? Move on? And we’d never have to deal this?” Blaine was almost yelling again. But his voice betrayed him. He wasn’t just upset and angry about this. He was hurt.
“What? No! … No that’s not what I thought … what I want AT ALL! Is … is that what you want?” The last part came out as a whisper.
“Of course not Kurt. I just … I thought we had the kind of relationship where we could talk about this kind of stuff.” Blaine said softly.
“We do. I’m just … not always great at talking about stuff, and I mess up because I don’t speak up when I should, and then I say too much when I really should shut up … kind of like now … and I’m just … I’m sorry, Blaine.”
The room was filled with another silence.
“I knew you would. You’ve missed them so much that I knew you’d jump at any chance to go back.” Blaine said, almost absent mindedly as he stretched out on his bed.
Kurt crossed the room and laid down next to Blaine, cautiously watching him as he did.
“Just because I love them doesn’t mean I love YOU any less.” He said, twisting their fingers together.
“That’s not what I’m … wait what did you say?” Blaine asked, momentarily stopping his twirling of the water bottle in his hands.
“I … umm … I love the New Directions?” Kurt stalled, mentally kicking himself for what felt like the thousandth time that day.
“Did you just say you … love … me?” Blaine asked, rolling onto his side to get a better look at his boyfriend.
“No. Maybe. Kind of.” Kurt rambled, forcing himself to look anywhere but Blaine’s eyes. He could feel his cheeks burning a horrible shade of scarlet.
Blaine put his hand under Kurt’s chin, forcing him to look into his eyes.
“Did you tell me you love me?” He asked.
Kurt nodded mutely, feeling slightly less terrified of his accidental omission by Blaine’s reaction. Depending on what was said next … this could be the first time they said the words out loud – of course it was implied every time they saw each other, but … Kurt had somehow assumed that Blaine would say it first – he didn’t believe he’d have the guts to just say it. He felt slightly emboldened by the switch of … not power … but leadership in the progress of their relationship.
“Yes. I did. I … I love you.” He said, and he meant it.
“Well, I love you, too. A lot actually.” Blaine grinned, leaning over and kissing him, rolling over so that Kurt was pressed into the mattress. After several minutes of not exactly passive, relaxed kissing, Blaine abruptly pulled away, rolling back over to the other side of the bed, Kurt’s brain still trying to process what had just happened. “Blaine LOVES me!” Everything inside him was screaming and doing some kind of weird crazy, happy dance.
“Hey, I’m not done with you yet!” Kurt complained.
“What about Karofsky?” Blaine asked, staring at the ceiling, worry etched onto his face.
“What about him?” Kurt asked, confused as to what Karofsky had to do with their declarations of love to each other.
Blaine raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Kurt, who realised what he was really asking.
“Oh you’re going to LOVE this.” Kurt grinned, rolling his eyes, able to find the situation almost funny now that he was out of such close proximity to the bully.
“Love something Karofsky related? I doubt it, but try me.” Blaine said sceptically, giving Kurt a look that said I’m not going to find this funny or entertaining unless you tell me he moved to Mars or something.
“Santana figured out he was gay, and is now blackmailing him so she can be prom queen.” Kurt laughed.
Blaine chuckled slightly. “I’m sure that relationship is fun for the both of them.”
Kurt looked over at Blaine, narrowing his eyes.
“Anderson, do you know something I don’t?” He asked his boyfriend, trying to figure out what he was missing. “Ok, you win. I have no idea what you’re hinting at.”
“Well, Hummel, have you ever heard of the term ‘Beards’?” Blaine asked him, reaching over and pulling a pack of red vines out of his bed side cabinet.
“What? Guilty pleasure.” Blaine grinned when Kurt shot him a disproving look. Think of the calories!
“No.” Kurt answered Blaine’s earlier question, throwing caution to the wind and stealing a bite of Blaine’s sweets.
“It’s when two guys, or two girls, who are gay, pretend to date each other so that people think they’re straight.” Blaine explained, chewing absently on a red vine.
“Oh! I get it … I did that once.” Kurt chuckled, grinning as Blaine fed him another piece of Red Vine.
“You? Hiding your true self??” Blaine asked, an expression of mock horror on his face.
Kurt gently whacked him round the back of the head.
“I went out with a straight girl once.” Kurt said. “Brittany. So it was like half a beard. A moustache maybe.” Kurt mused, Blaine snorting at his description.
“Did you … you know … kiss her and … stuff?” Blaine asked curiously, now nonchalantly nibbling at a Jaffa Cake from a packet that he’d spotted in the pocket of his jacket, which was currently lying on the end of his bed.
“I made out with her. But it was … weird. I mean … Brittany. A girl.” Kurt laughed, blushing.
“But why would she bother blackmailing him? I mean, the Santana I know would just tell everyone and leave him to deal with the fallout himself.” Kurt said slowly, accepting a Jaffa Cake from Blaine as the pieces slotted together.
“Oh. Oh. Santana? No way. Santana is not gay. She’s been with almost EVERY guy at McKinley. Certainly the entire sports department, all the guys in Glee… you get the idea. She’s about as gay as Jude Law.” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and licking all the chocolate off of the top of the biscuit.
“Or as straight as Ellen DeGeneres.” Blaine chuckled wryly. He watched Kurt, who was oblivious to what he was doing.
“You have no idea how distracting you are.” Blaine murmured, Kurt’s cheeks once again turning pink.
“Besides, we both know I have a far better gaydar than you.” Blaine said, changing the subject so that they actually finished this conversation, rather than it being yet another ignored and forgotten discussion due to varying distractions that had happened during the nights Kurt had spent at Dalton.
“That is simply not true!” Kurt argued, curling up into Blaine’s side, his head resting on his chest.
“Finn. S’all I’m saying.” Blaine teased.
“Oh shut up, you. Santana? Really? Santana?” Kurt attempted to consider the interesting conundrum. “Nope. I just don’t see it.”
“Is it really so hard to believe? I mean, have you ever actually known her to be in a relationship that lasted longer than a week – AND she kept her clothes on?” Kurt didn’t answer. Honestly? He didn’t know.
“However, I am curious about what Karofsky dating Santana has to do with you going back to McKinley.” Blaine asked. His face was a mask of calm, his voice smooth. Only his eyes betrayed his concern.
“This is the funny part. He and Santana have started a new club. The Bully Whips. They have berets and everything!” Kurt laughed. As much as he liked the general idea of the club, he couldn’t reconcile the image in his head of his terrifying tormentor Karofsky with King Karofsky; protector of the weak and downtrodden. Blaine didn’t join in with Kurt’s laughter as Kurt had thought he would.
“So Karofsky is policing the bullying?” He asked gently, biting his lip, pulling Kurt in closer, as if he could protect him from the world simply by never letting him go.
“Don’t worry, the Glee guys will keep an eye out, and if he tries anything he’ll have deal with the full force of Finn, Puckerman, Mike, Sam and Artie. And Santana I would imagine.” Kurt had meant the remark to sound reassuring to his worried, protective boyfriend. But Blaine certainly wasn’t reassured.
“If he tries anything I’ll come down there myself and show him that he can’t push you around anymore.” Blaine said angrily.
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down! It’s going to be fine.” Kurt consoled him, twisting over in his arms so that they were face to face.
“I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.” Blaine almost whispered.
“Well we have tonight, and after school and weekends, and holidays—“
“Tonight? Aren’t I going to see you at school Monday?” Blaine asked, sitting up abruptly.
Kurt cringed.
“That’s the thing. Figgins says they’ll take me back, but…” Kurt trailed off lamely.
“Only if you leave right away.” Blaine finished for him, sliding off of the bed to stand by the window, his back to Kurt.
Blaine was silent again.
Kurt hated awkward silences.
He also hated the distance between them at that moment.
“Hey. Come back to bed.” He murmured, putting his hand out to Blaine.
Blaine hesitated, biting down forcefully on his trembling lower lip.
“I’m scared, Kurt.” He whispered, turning away again and looking out of the window.
Kurt climbed off of the bed and stood behind Blaine, wrapping his arms around his waist.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He whispered.
“I’m just … I don’t know how …” Blaine frustratedly wiped away the few tears that had managed to fall. He spun round in Kurt’s arms, fiercely starring into his eyes.
“Kurt, promise me something.” His eyes burned with intensity, still glistening with unshed tears.
“Anything.” Kurt promised with absolute sincerity – He would give Blaine the world if it meant that he never had to see that sad, scared, vulnerable look on his face ever again.
“Promise me we won’t be that couple. The niave high school sweethearts who take their relationship for granted and forget why they fell in love.” Blaine said earnestly.
Kurt smiled slightly, taking one hand of off Blaine’s waist and winding his fingers through Blaine’s adorably unruly curls.
“I promise we won’t be those niave high school sweethearts who take our relationship for granted and forget why we fell in love.” Kurt recited, smiling.
“And for the record? It would be pretty much impossible for me to forget why I fell in love with you.” A smile pulled at Blaine’s lips, and before he could say anything, Kurt leaned down slightly and kissed his boyfriend on the lips, reaching behind Blaine with one hand to tug the curtains closed.
Kurt opened his eyes and immediately squeezed them tightly closed again.
No. Way.
He was obviously having a very realistic, very … pleasant dream.
Because there was absolutely no way that he was in Blaine’s bed, spooning.
He opened his eyes again, squinting at the dull light that was creeping through the curtains, a smile breaking onto his face. He tried to slowly lean up to reach for the small clock on Blaine’s nightstand without waking his sleeping boyfriend, but Blaine’s arms constricted around his waist, tugging him back into bed.
“No. Stay.” Blaine mumbled, burying his face in the crook of Kurt’s neck.
“I really need to check what time it is, Blaine!” Kurt chuckled.
“No you don’t. What you need is to stay here with me for the rest of the day.” Blaine said his voice raspy and croaky with sleep.
Kurt grinned and snuggled back into bed – what difference would a few more minutes make?
Ten minutes later, Blaine groaned as Kurt’s ringtone - Candles, naturally - rang out obnoxiously, shattering the warm, sleepy atmosphere of the morning.
“Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.” Blaine pleaded.
Kurt untangled himself from Blaine and the blankets, padding across the floor and fishing his cell phone out of his bag. He saw the time was almost 11am –and that he had three missed calls from his Dad.
“Shit! Shitshitshit!” Kurt exclaimed, seeing the words ‘CAROLE CALLING’ flashing across the screen.
Blaine sat up slightly, a look of concern on his face.
“What’s up?” He asked.
Kurt raised one finger, signalling his to be quiet for a minute. He took a deep breath and answered the phone, trying to make himself sound as un-sleepy as possible.
“Hey, Carole.” Blaine went from looking concerned and confused to downright alarmed, his eyes flicking to the time on the clock as the pieces fit together.
“Hey, Kurt.” She said brightly. Kurt was immediately confused. And suspicious.
“So how’s the studying going?” Completely baffled Kurt decided to play along.
“Great thanks … we just started working on Trig.” Kurt was practically holding his breath that she was going to catch him in the lie any second.
Blaine now looked utterly baffled.
“Trig?” He mouthed at him from the comfort of his bed.
“Oh good. For a moment there we were worried you’d snuck out or something, but Finn reminded us that you were going over to Dalton to study with Blaine this morning.” Carole chuckled at her “forgetfulness”.
Kurt mentally thanked Buddha, Allah, God and just about every other deity that he could think of that Finn had actually managed to think of a convincing cover story to explain his absence.
“You guys must be getting old!” Kurt joked.
He jumped slightly as he felt Blaine slide his arms around his waist.
“Don’t be cheeky!” Carole laughed.
“Sorry.” Kurt said, trying to focus on the conversation whilst Blaine softly hummed Teenage Dream and kissed his neck in a way that effectively turned his brain’s ability to process thoughts into mush.
“Well, as it’s the weekend, home by half eleven please, and make sure you remember to eat a decent meal sweetie!” Kurt smiled, realising that other than a boyfriend like Blaine, the one thing he’d been craving was a mother like Carole. It also reminded him that he needed to pay his mother a visit soon – He hadn’t been to see her since the whole Karofsky debacle, and he missed being close to her.
“I will.” Kurt almost squeaked as he felt Blaine pulling him backwards towards the cosy bed.
“I have to go – I’ll be home by curfew, promise. Bye!” Kurt ended the conversation as quickly as he could, laughing as Blaine tugged him backwards and they landed in a tangled mess amongst the blankets.
“Curfew?” Blaine asked and Kurt new he meant ‘What time?’.
The tugged the blankets back around themselves, snuggling back in together.
“Half eleven tonight, if that’s okay with you.” Kurt said, pulling Blaine’s arms tighter around him, making it clear that he had no intention of leaving any earlier.
“So I have you all to myself for the next twelve hours?” Blaine asked, grinning triumphantly – if that was true then it meant that they had gotten away with this mornings’ carelessness.
“Well that’s when I have to be back in Lima, so I’ll probably need to leave around a quarter to eleven-ish, the bus leaves at eleven—“ Blaine almost immediately cut him off.
“The bus? Baby, I’m driving you back, of course.” Blaine looked mildly offended. All Kurt could think however, was that Blaine had called him baby. It sent shivers down his spine and tingles all over his body.
“You don’t have to chauffer me around all the time, I feel bad!” Kurt complained, rolling over so he was facing his boyfriend.
“Well, don’t. I am at your service sir.” He said, putting on a mock cockney accent.
“Well in that case,” Kurt grinned, “Go make some popcorn whilst I put in a movie. Then we are staying in bed for the rest of the day.”
“Yes, sir.” Blaine said approvingly, giving Kurt another quick kiss before climbing out of bed and walking out of the door. “Hurry back to me.” Kurt called.
Blaine smiled.
“Always.” He said over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed behind him.