January 2013

In Blaines bedroom, Bryan Ferrys voice lilts and jaunts over the piano and horn of "These Foolish Things". Blaine sings to his reflection in his dresser mirror as he unknots his tie. A smear of Tinas lipgloss glints pink on his cheek, and the screen of his phone is lit with a text from Kurt: "Enjoy the dance! Call me when youre home?" Blaines intestines feel as if theyre working through Knots: The Complete Visual Guide.

"Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things
Remind me of you," Blaine sings to Kurts portrait. He does a twirl as he pulls his tie free of his collar.

He feels like laughing. A few hours ago, he felt like crying. Too much muchness is stuffed into his chest and head, and he needs to release the surfeit of emotion somehow. But at the same time, none of the fullness is soothing the itchy restlessness vibrating deep in his flesh. He aches for something more familiar and more comforting. He hangs up the velvet suit jacket and his tuxedo trousers, sits to unbutton his shirt and pull off his socks. Once hes down to just his undershirt and briefs, he launches himself onto his bed, belly first, and picks up his phone.

Its only eleven, and he knows the connection he needs to make.

Kurt picks up immediately. "It cant have been that good a night if youre home an hour before your curfew. I hope Tina behaved herself."

Blaine heaves a soft laugh along with an, "I missed you tonight," that comes out far more breathless and desperate than he means it to.

Theres no immediate response from Kurt.

"Im sorry," Blaine blurts. "That maybe came out wrong? I—"

"Its okay," Kurt says. "Ive spent most of this week missing you, too."

"You have?" Blaine thrills to hear it.

"Everythings so new at NYADA, and Rachels been busy with Brody, so Ive been on my own. Thereve been a lot of things Id like to have shared with you, you know, live, as they happened. Thats why youve been getting so many texts and photos." The warmth in Kurts voice lets Blaine imagine hes smiling.

"Ive enjoyed getting your texts and photos," Blaine says. "So youre doing all right?"

Theres a noncommittal sound from Kurt. "Yeah, I think so. College is remarkably not unlike High School in a lot of ways, and its weird. I didnt expect that so much? To be feeling... on the outside again. Honestly, Blaine? Ive been feeling lonely this week."

Oh. Blaine rolls to his back and cradles the phone with both hands near his cheek; he closes his eyes. "Im sorry youre lonely, Kurt," he says softly. "Im here for you now."

"I know," Kurt says, warm again.

And it feels, as the silence stretches between them easy with affection, that theyre sharing a moment of perfect concord.

"What can I do? Do you want to Skype?" Blaine asks. "Watch a movie?"

"Its late," Kurt says. "Could you maybe just tell me about your evening? Like, what did everyone wear? How did the music go? Indulge my homesickness a little bit?"

"Yeah, sure," Blaine says. "I have good news, and I have some photos on my phone. Ill send them to you now, so you have visual aids. Just a sec, let me just—" Blaine pulls the phone away from his face so he can tap through to the photo gallery.

"Wait. Blaine?" Kurt interrupts, his voice tinny, small, and urgent.

Blaine brings the phone back up to his ear. "Hmm?"

Kurts sigh rushes static through the line. "Theres something I need to tell you first."

Hope wells up in Blaines chest. Maybe Kurts missing him this week means Kurts found his way to forgiveness, and maybe the time they spent together at Christmas has helped show Kurt that he can still trust Blaine. "You can tell me anything," Blaine reassures him.

But the tone of Kurts next words doesnt reassure Blaine: "Yeah," Kurt says, and he almost sounds glum. "You told me I could tell you, and I really feel like I should. You should know."

"Okay?" Blaine says.

"I, um?"

He sits up, goes cold. "Just tell me, Kurt."

"I met someone," Kurt says.

Three simple words stun Blaine into silence. His Roxy Music playlist has shuffled its way to "To Turn You On" and the song expands and intrudes, growing too loud and too heavy with memory and shared daydreams, of singing with Kurt and being sung to in their intimate moments, as Ferry croons:

"Is it raining in New York
On Fifth Avenue?
And off Broadway after dark
Love the lights dont you?"

In the absence of a reply from Blaine, Kurt continues, haltingly, "Uh, hes the head of the Glee club here. The Adams Apples. Hes handsome and funny... and kind, and I think— I think he really likes me."

"I could walk you through the park
If youre feeling blue
Or whatever... "

Blaine gets up and jabs his iPod to silence, and then he grabs his dressing gown, pulls it on to banish the new chill from his bare arms and legs. He should say something, but his tongue feels like clay.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, frail and uncertain.

"Um, so you like him too, then?" Blaine manages; he holds his phone between his ear and his shoulder and ties the sash too tightly, with quick, sharp jerks.

A relieved huff of breath, and Kurt says, "I think maybe I could? I like the way he smiles at me. He told me I look like a young Paul Newman. I asked him out to coffee, and he said yes."

And just like that, Blaine feels like crying again. He shouldnt. Hes the one who fucked up, and hes the one who let Kurt go. He told Kurt they were friends—best friends—and Kurt could tell him exactly this sort of thing. Hes got no stake in Kurts love life anymore. Theyre friends. Theyre friends.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks.

"Thats great, Kurt. Im happy for you." Blaine says because thats what hes supposed to say.

"Yeah?"

Blaine makes himself smile, if only for his own sake. Hes sad for himself, but he can be—he will be—happy for Kurt. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. I know this is... so weird, but I didnt want it to be like I was keeping a secret from you."

"No, thank you for telling me."

Another pause. "So, you said you had good news and photos?" Kurt asks, a tentative entreaty.

They talk, and Blaine tries to feel the connection to Kurt he wants and misses, but its different now. Something unfamiliar, something cooler. He doesnt even feel it when Kurt gushes over the cut of his dinner suit and tells him he looks gorgeous in velvet. Blaine looks at the photos of himself with Tina, looks at the photos of Sam and Brittany, listens to Kurts voice, and all he can feel is foolish.