Reaction fic to Klaine breakup.
They were all reuniting for McKinley’s prom, and Kurt had no idea why he agreed to perform with the rest of New Directions. He had work to do, he had a deadline for the next project, and it was the following week, not that Will seemed to care, as he’d begged for nearly two hours for Kurt to come back with everybody else and perform with the rest of New Directions.
It’s like nobody even remembered why Kurt avoided coming back to Lima and especially McKinley at all costs.
He didn’t want to – couldn’t, really – see Blaine. Not after what had happened months earlier in the park – not after Blaine’s confession that tore Kurt’s world apart. After that night – The Break Up – Kurt had kind of gone numb. Only going to classes – talking to Rachel only when completely necessary (much like when they had first met) – avoiding any and all calls from Ohio, especially of the variety that involved Blaine in some way, shape, or form.
He hadn’t even gone home for Christmas to visit Burt and Carol. And while he regretted the decision – feeling like a terrible human being (especially when he remembered Carol’s expression on his computer screen when he’d told them he couldn’t come back for the holidays, over Skype) – he knew it was the right choice to make in that moment. Despite the guilt. And the degree of awfulness that washed over him when his parents were completely understanding.
Although, it didn’t feel nearly as awful as he’d felt when Blaine had told him he cheated; but close enough for him to bury himself further into his pillow and 500 count sheets and ignore life for another few weeks.
And, months - and months - later, after he’d finally brought himself to answer a phone call – and then a second – he seriously wished he could crawl back into his cave of isolation (the one he’d only just pulled himself out of) and go back to never speaking to anyone. Ever again. (He wouldn’t mind going back in time a few minutes and choosing to not answer the phone first, though.) However, he could do neither of those things.
Because Kurt had to pack a bag, maybe two, or three, and book a flight, because whether he liked it or not, he agreed to go back to Lima, Ohio to perform with the rest of New Directions – new members and old – at the McKinley prom. He’d be fine with it, he decided hours later as he looked for clothes, if there weren’t one minor thing holding him back; the same thing that had held him back from his friends and family since That Night.
Blaine. And whoever it was that Blaine had slept with.
He had the tuxedo. He had Rachel – who had refused to let go of his arm, or even hold it in a comfortable, less vise-like grip – and he had the song list. All that was missing was the smile. And the date.
He walked into the prom with Rachel, spotting familiar faces – Brittany and Santana – right away, and some unfamiliar faces – that Rachel felt the need to point out as junior members of the Glee Club – only recognizing them by face detail, rather than name, as he probably should have.
Though, all Kurt thought of as Rachel pointed them out, explaining why or how they were still “mediocre” members and that they’ve yet to reach the potential she had shown her first year in the glee club, was, “Is that the one?” Nobody had told him the name of the boy Blaine had slept with, nor had they told him whether or not he was attractive, which led Kurt to believe he was; more so than Kurt at least – not that that was an impossible feat.
“Kurt!” Rachel grinned, pointing a well-manicured finger at the stage, “Look! They’re here!”
Kurt’s eyes followed Rachel’s pointing finger, seeing Artie, Mercedes, and Sam all on the stage laughing away at something Kurt was sure Artie had said. “Cool,” Kurt murmured, his gaze falling back to the dance floor, hoping (regretfully) for one quick glance of Blaine.
Rachel rolled her eyes, as oblivious as ever to anyone else’s feelings, and tugged him towards the stage, “Hey guys!” She called as Kurt was pulled along behind her and onto the stage.
On the bright side, he had an unhindered view of the dance floor. Oh. And Blaine wasn’t even there. He looked away from the crowd of teenagers and back to the people he’d considered family not long before, “Hey…” he said, purposefully ignoring the pitiful looks they gave him.
“Hummel, my man!” A voice suddenly called from him as two hands latched onto his shoulders and squeezed much more roughly than necessary. Puck. “How ya’ doing? You’ve been MIA since -,”
“Since my heart was crushed into a very fine powder and thrown into a hurricane never to be seen or heard from again?” Kurt retorted, not missing the way his former friends flinched. He sighed. “Sorry, I -,”
“It’s fine,” Mercedes told him, pulling him away from Puck and into a hug, “I missed you.”
He melted into the hug, having not been held since… just not for a long time. “Missed you too,” he answered, hugging her tightly, “I’m sorry -,”
“Don’t apologize,” Artie said, “We understand.”
“Understand what?” Sam questioned, frowning, “What happened? Why are you acting like someone died – someone didn’t die, right?”
Kurt sighed, pulling away from Mercedes and looking at Sam, “Don’t worry about it, Sam,” he said, wiping at his eyes and offering a smile, “Don’t we have a song to sing?” He asked.
Mercedes nodded. “You and I are dueting. So, the rest of you go make out or something, so we can sing.”
Sam raised a hand, “But -,”
“After the song,” Mercedes told him, smiling brightly, “Now, shoo.” They all got off the stage, some mumbling, Sam grumbling a few complaints that Kurt could barely hear over the sound of the music the DJ was playing. “You know what we’re singing, right?” Mercedes asked Kurt.
Kurt nodded. “I’m wondering when Shuester will realize break up songs aren’t…” He trailed off as the gym doors opened and a familiar head of gel walked in, “Aren’t,” Kurt swallowed, shaking his head and looking at Mercedes, “Aren’t great for dances?”
If Mercedes noticed, she didn’t say anything, “Some things never change,” she told him with a laugh as she handed him a microphone and the song the DJ had been playing came to a close. “You get the odd verses, I’ll take the even, and together for the chorus.” Kurt nodded as the music to “Don’t Speak” started up, and turned towards the crowd. “We’re going to slow it down,” Mercedes said into her microphone, as Kurt finally got a full view of Blaine.
Beautiful Blaine.
He was holding someone’s hand.
Kurt started singing as he heard the cue, “You and me, we used to be together,” Blaine’s head snapped up, his eyes flying to the stage. Kurt continued singing, even as Blaine pulled his hand away from his date like his hand was on fire. As Mercedes started singing, Kurt shook his head and looked away from Blaine; He just really needed to stop.
He didn’t look back at Blaine until the end of the song, his voice nearly catching to find Blaine still standing there, just watching him.
The song ended, Kurt dropped the microphone and rushed off the stage; his eyes stinging, he heart aching.
Nobody followed him
When he finally got a grip on himself, he walked back into the gun, trying to pretend his nose wasn’t red, and his eyes weren’t puffy. Artie, Rachel and one of the new Gleeks that Kurt didn’t recognize were on the stage, talking while Mercedes and Santana belted out a song Kurt didn’t know.
He stood by the doors, mentally applauding the two and their voices. He looked away from the stage for just a moment, his eyes catching an unwavering stare from across the room. They looked at each other, the bodies in between them not even disrupting them. Blaine’s eyes were filled with guilt – Kurt wasn’t quite sure what his own conveyed, he just knew that Blaine somehow saw his pain.
Kurt wanted to think something cruel and hateful, but then Blaine’s date wrapped an arm around the slender waist – the one he’d spent countless days exploring with more than just his fingertips – and Kurt suddenly had no thoughts. Because he had been right when he thought the boy had to of been attractive for Blaine to break every promise he’d made – including the ones from the Christmas of Kurt’s senior year.
The Christmas that Blaine had given him the ring. The Bowtie Ring that was in Kurt’s left pocket.
Blaine’s date leaned down and said something; Blaine shook his head, answering quickly, and quietly. He looked at Kurt when he spoke, though, his eyes flashing with something, and Kurt had to look away then, because he knew. He just knew that Blaine was thinking about their two proms they’d gone to together.
It hurt.
Mercedes and Santana were finishing their song then, and the three that stood in the background started setting up for their own song. Blaine’s date walked away, and Kurt felt his feet move, almost as if on their own accord, even if he wanted to stop, he couldn’t.
Blaine watched him, his eyes wide as Kurt stopped in front of him. “Hi,” Kurt’s voice was soft, barely even audible in the room, but he knew Blaine had heard him. Blaine could hear Kurt even through an… explosion or whatever. In that moment, they didn’t even know what, or how, the conversation would go. Kurt wondered if it were too late to slap Blaine, despite the kicked puppy expression on Blaine’s face.
Blaine was confused, and Kurt could tell, if the way his voice trembled when he said, “Hi,” to Kurt were in any way a hint.
The music finally started for the new song, then, neither of them realizing they’d missed an entire song the DJ had played while the Gleeks set up for their song, and Kurt looked at Blaine, held out his hand, “Dance with me?”
Blaine’s nod was quick, barely perceptible as he placed his hand in Kurt’s and the song truly began. They made their way to the center of the dance floor as the unknown Gleek began singing. “I feel so unsure, as I take your hand, and lead you to the dance floor,”
A version of Careless Whisper, Kurt realized. A version he hadn’t heard before.
They held each other awkwardly, their moves strange and nothing like them. There was no playfulness to their dance, not romance nor love, just feet narrowly avoiding stepping on one another’s. Blaine’s eyes didn’t leave Kurt’s, though, and Kurt didn’t know why – but he missed a beat. Blaine’s foot stepped on Kurt’s, and suddenly they had no rhythm.
“Guilty feet have got no rhythm,”
They looked away from one another, paying more mind to the way their feet moved, how their once synchronized dance seemed so unorganized and clumsy. How it no longer seemed as if two became one.
“We could have been so good together; we could have left this town forever.”
Kurt looked up then, feeling lost, even though he was in the one place that had truly felt like home; Blaine’s arms. And yet, he felt as if he were an uninvited, unwelcome visitor.
“Though it’s easy to pretend, I know you’re not a fool. I should’ve known better than to cheat a friend, and waist the chance that I’d been given,”
Blaine looked up as well, his eyes were watering as he caught Kurt’s gaze. Kurt had no idea what Blaine saw, but whatever it was that Kurt’s eyes held, it was enough to have him let go of Kurt faster than he had that night, and had him taking a step away.
“Now that you’re gone…”
And then Blaine ran.
Away from Kurt, away from their history, away from his broken promises. If it had been a few months earlier, Kurt would have let him run. A few months earlier, Kurt was bitter and heartbroken, and wanted nothing more than to never see or hear from Blaine Anderson again. But there, in that moment, as Blaine pushed open the gym doors and left Kurt standing alone on the dance floor, Kurt was no longer simply hurt.
Kurt Hummel was furious. And he wanted answered.
Kurt chased Blaine because of the promises, and the history and everything he’d ever felt. Because, despite all the pain and heartache and loneliness Kurt had endeared because of Blaine, there was so much more of their story left untold.
And, Kurt had to know why Blaine had let it end at such an abrupt point.