“Kurt, we can’t do this anymore.” Blaine could feel his heartbeat in his mouth as his lips moved. Part of him was unsure of what he was really saying. It was cold outside, and Blaine wrapped his hands over his upper arms, protecting himself not only from the weather, but also from the cold stare of Kurt’s gaze.

“What do you mean ‘we can’t do this anymore, Blaine?’” Kurt mimicked, and Blaine heart the sound of tears start to choke up Kurt’s voice. It slowly inched higher in pitch as blotches spread across the face Blaine knew Kurt tried so hard to keep even. “I thought we got together in the end. I was supposed to be Meg Ryan, remember?”

Blaine chuckled weakly, and the sound sent Kurt over the edge. The first tear slipped down his cheek, and even though Blaine was overcome with the need to pull him close, tell him that they would work it out, he resisted, hugged himself more tightly.

“I mean that I can’t wait for you, Kurt.” Kurt gasped, and Blaine felt his eyes prickle. His nose started to quiver, but he persisted. “I love you, more than anything that I have ever loved. I love you more than anyone. You are my one and only Kurt. But you, here, in New York? I can’t handle that.”

“Blaine, wait. Mr. Scheuster. He offered me a spot to help coach this year’s Glee club, so I can stay in Lima and—“

“And what, Kurt?! Stay in Lima forever?”

“I just want to be with you.”

“And you need to be here!”

“NO!” Kurt’s voice came out more forcefully than he’d intended, and it stunned the pair of them into silence. Neither of them cared about the tears openly streaming down both of their faces, too busy watching each other to wipe them away. “I need to be with you.” Kurt’s voice was broken and weak. He inhaled, then sobbed. The muscles in his shoulders sagged, and his body succumbed to the shaking that a soul does when its foundation is shattered.

Blaine’s arms started to shake as he inhaled, trying to force his body into the numb calm he’d affected when he first decided that this was a good idea. But all it took was one look at Kurt’s face to know that he was ripping apart every promise that he’d ever made, every oath was broken. Blaine could feel the weight of every kiss, every touch, and his mind was convincing him it was all a lie. The guilt left a sour taste in his mouth.

But he had to do it. Kurt had to stay in New York. He was happier in New York, shined brighter and laughed more. Their Skype conversations were few, but when they did talk, Blaine felt the warmth that he used to bring to Kurt’s face, replaced by simply a change in the scenery. Blaine was getting boring.

“Kurt, please,” Blaine pleaded, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. The movement broke some of the tension, and Kurt’s sobs subsided. In a moment, he stood up and wiped his eyes on the corner of his jacket, foregoing fashion for the moment. “I’m trying to give you an out.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “You’re so happy here.”

“Not as happy as you—“

“Yes, Kurt, you are. I know you. You’re so happy.” Blaine’s voice took on a calm fondness, as if he’d already resigned himself to making Kurt nothing more than a nostalgic memory. “I don’t make you smile like the city does. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you,” he joked, giving a half-hearted attempt of jazz hands.

Kurt made a noise, and Blaine figured that it was as close to a laugh as he was going to get, but it sounded more like a pained realization that Blaine was giving up than laughter. “Why can’t we do this? We said we could do this! We said we’d be all right!”

“Well I’m not all right anymore, Kurt!” The snap in Blaine’s voice scared him, reminded him of the bullies.

Kurt put his hand to his mouth as he cried. Before Blaine could open his mouth to apologize, to stop him, to take it back and make it go away, Kurt turned on his heel and ran. Blaine turned to watch him for a moment before turning away and breaking into a fresh round of sobs.

After longer than he cared to admit, Blaine composed himself long enough to hail a taxi to his hotel room.

Blaine never remembered a bed feeling so empty before.

-----


“Kurt?”

“Hello? Rachel?”

“Hey, Kurt! Ow, hold on one second.” Kurt paused, waiting for Rachel to finish hailing a taxi. He adjusted his coat against the early morning cold in the park and sighed. His body was tired from tossing and turning in his sleep. The words tossed around in last night’s brittle New York air were ever present in his thoughts.

“Come on, Rachel, in this century, please. This is important!”

“Kurt,” Rachel said softly, and then “5th and Grand, please. Sorry, Kurt. I’m sorry. I know that you’re in a bad mood.”

“It’s not that, okay?” Rachel was silent on the other line. “Okay, maybe it is a little bit of that. But I need you to tell me what hotel he’s staying in.”

“Who?”

“You know who! Blaine!”

“Kurt,” Rachel warned. “You know he told me not to tell you.”

“I can’t lose him, Rachel. You remember how NYADA was our dream, right?”

“Yes, Kurt, but I don’t see what that has anything to do with—“

“Blaine was my new dream, Rachel!” he interrupted. “And I’m not going to just say okay to this one. I need you to tell me where he’s staying.”

Rachel started to speak, and then paused. After sighing twice, she tried again. “You really love him, don’t you? Hold on, Kurt. No, here is fine, thanks. Have a good day, sir. I just want you to be happy, Kurt.”

“Do I seem happy to you?”

“…No.”

“Where is he staying?”

“The Mariott right next to the airport. I think room 217.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Kurt.”

“I love you too, Rachel.”

“Now go, before he leaves.”

“What do you mean leaves? His flight isn’t scheduled to leave until Friday.”

“He told me he changed it to tonight. He didn’t want to…um,”

“Yeah, got it. Thanks. Bye, Rach.”

“Bye, Kurt.” The phone clicked, and Kurt held it to his chests for a moment, thinking of an idea before racing down the stairs of his apartment and hailing a taxi.

-----

The thunderous banging on the door to the hotel interrupted Blaine’s busy schedule of lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling until the shuttle came to pick him up. He stared at the door, incredulous for a moment, before actually getting out of bed. He opened the door, shocked and dazed as Kurt jumped forward into the room and into his arms. Blaine caught him on instinct, and his arms tightened.

“Kurt, I—what?”

“I need you. I need you more than anything else.” Blaine pulled away and shrank back, seeming to fold in on himself.

“No, Kurt. You have to go. You’re in New York, and I’m in Ohio. This isn’t working. I can’t just see your face on a couple of pixels every few nights. Just go.”

On the taxi ride over, Kurt prepped for this moment. “Blaine. Blaine just listen for one second okay?” He pushed the hotel door closed and took Blaine’s hands. Blaine tried to tug away, but Kurt held fast, and led them over to the bedroom.

“Kurt, what are you doing? Have you lost your—“

“Blaine. Shh. Just, trust me.” He sat Blaine firmly on the bed, and he bounced twice before settling into the comforter. He watched as Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket and plug in his headphones. Blaine watched Kurt’s face as he scrolled, confused.

“Kurt, if you’re here for revenge to get back at me for what I said at the park then—“

“Blaine, just…be quiet for one second okay? I’m trying really hard to create a moment.” Blaine chuckled once, but said nothing more.

Kurt exhaled and settled, then started bobbing his head along to the music.

“You push me. I don’t have the strength to resist or control you. Take me down, take me down.” The first few notes of Kurt’s voice were soft and clear, and Blaine realized then that they hadn’t sung together in a long time. The beauty of his voice stunned Blaine, and he listened.

“So fall down, I need you to trust me. Go east don’t rush me. Help me out, why don’t you help me out?” At that, Blaine frowned, realizing exactly what Kurt was saying. When he broke into the second chorus, Blaine’s jaw dropped.

“So you say ‘go, it isn’t working’ and I say ‘no, it isn’t perfect.’ So I stay instead. I’m never gonna leave this bed.”

“You want to stay with me,” Blaine whispered, so hoarse that Kurt missed the next few words to nod. Still, though, he continued to sing, coming to sit on the bed, He sang the bridge into Blaine’s ear, whispering softly as he nuzzled the space between Blaine’s neck and ear.

“Take it, take it all. Take all that I have. I’d give it all away just to get you back.”

“I love you…so much, Kurt.”

“Take it, take it all. Take all that I have. Take it, take it all. Take all that I have.” Blaine silenced the song then with a kiss. He pulled the headphones from Kurt’s ears and kissed him again. Then again. And then again as he started to cry, but he refused to let his lips part from Kurt’s. When Kurt didn’t kiss him back immediately enough, Blaine made a whining noise and pulled him closer. It was then that Blaine realized why Kurt wasn’t kissing him. He was crying too hard to do anything other than cry. The tears were silent, tears of relief and tears of pain slowly flowing away.

“Oh, Kurt. Kurt, I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blaine.”

“You can be my Meg Ryan, okay? Please be my Meg Ryan.”

“Only if you don’t get on the plane tonight.” Blaine hesitated.

“You really want to work this out?”

“I promise I am never saying goodbye to you. I mean that, you know.” Blaine kissed Kurt again, and Kurt tasted the need.

“Then the plane will have an extra seat.” And that was the last they spoke for the night, aside from sighs and moans, half-words and coos that filled the room.

-----

It was late morning when they woke up next. Blaine rolled naked closer to Kurt to kiss his shoulder. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No, I’m sleep talking.” The sleepy, playful sarcasm was a welcome relief to Kurt, a stark contrast from the anguish the night before.

“Are you hungry?” Kurt asked, stretching and kissing Blaine. Kurt cupped Blaine’s cheek and smiled, kissed him again, and leaned their foreheads together.

“No, I’m good.” He laughed softly under his breath.

“What?”

“I’m never gonna leave this bed,” he sang to Kurt before promptly breaking into a fit of giggles. He turned somber, then. “Not when you’re in it.” Kurt closed his eyes and opened his arms. Blaine curled into them, and relaxed as Kurt’s arms tightened around his back.

“I love you,” Kurt said simply. In those three words, Blaine felt his heart warm and flutter softly in his chest.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied. He rested his head against Kurt’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry that I—“

“Shh. We’re here now, and that’s what matters, right?”

“Right.”

“Good. Sing to me?” Blaine nodded and they shifted positions under the covers so that Blaine could wrap his arms around Kurt’s waist and whisper soft songs to him.

They slept on and off throughout the day, sprinkled with talking about the present, stories of the past and imaginations of the future. They ordered room service and answered it in silk hotel robes. There was cuddling, singing, laughter, and the smile that Blaine had so desperately been missing.

And very true to the song, Kurt and Blaine spent quite a bit of time in the bed.