Work Text:
"Hummel, you're fucking in love with him," Santana admonished.
"You're pissing me off, Santana, drop it. And drink some water, I can smell the alcohol on you," Kurt wrinkles his nose for added measure. There's really no smell at all, but right now, he needs to focus on Santana. It's easier. He glares at her, willing Santana to just bitch back about the hypocrisy about drinking, take the bait.
He's glad that Rachel and Mercedes are easily caught up in the festivities. Kurt can't deal with Mercedes' coddling or in Rachel's self-righteous convictions. In fact, he's much rather deal with Santana's blunt attacks. Forget about Blaine, and his engagement, and just bitch back.
"Kurt," she says gently, and she holds out her hand, placing it on the bed beside him.
Kurt closes his eyes. And breathes. Tears sting his eyes, and he's not sure if he wants to hiccup from the excessive amounts of champagne or cry because he's supposed to be fucking celebrating right now. He wants Santana to be angry. Kurt can hold his own when she's sharp and aggressive. Years of his self-denial about his feelings for Blaine have given him enough practise in countering arguments every time Santana wants to talk about "fate" or "love" and his apparent stupidity at both. Santana being sharp and angry and aggressive, Kurt can hold his own. But this? Gentle, understanding Santana who wants to hold his hand? Kurt's defences are blown.
"What do you want me to do, Santana?" he says slowly, quietly, swallowing any emotion. He's maintaining his composure. He will not lash out. This is his best friend's engagement party. This is Blaine's engagement party, and he loves him too much to ruin this for him. He loves him too much. He loves him. Kurt laughs inwardly at the bitterness he feels, and resolutely keeps his eyes closed. He refuses to look at Santana. He can't lie to her again, not right now, not about this.
"Doesn't matter what I want. I'm just surprised that you're not going to do anything. Ever. Never going to talk about it with him," Santana says, "You know, Kurt, I had mad respect for you at McKinley. You were never afraid to hide, you never compromised yourself for other people. And right now, you're not Kurt. You're not the Kurt I know. You're a coward, and you're being a child, an-"
"Don't you think I know that?" He lashes, wiping away tears with a definitive sweep under his eyes. Kurt finally stares at Santana, his eyes pale blue, and his cheeks splotchy red. "Don't you think I know that? But it's too late. San, he's engaged. He said yes." Kurt's posture deflates, his face crumples, "He's engaged. And to a great guy. Elliot's great. Blaine couldn't have dreamed of a better guy. He's sweet, and funny, and kind, and he likes playing the same stupid pop acoustic covers as Blaine, and he proposed and Blaine. Said. Yes."
Santana waits for Kurt to stop his heaving breaths. Bides her time, surreptitiously places two tissues in Kurt's lap, not touching him, knowing that contact is the last thing he needs right now. Or rather, contact from her is the last thing he needs right now. "He's not you," she says. Santana gets up from the bed and spins on her heel, leaving the room and closing the door before he can protest any more.
*
Outside, Santana is almost shocked to be standing in a bright, happy room, where people are popping champagne, exchanging hugs and kisses and congratulations to the happy couple. Blaine and Elliot are in the middle of the crowd, laughing, drinking. No one would know that on the other side of the bedroom door, there's someone trying to quietly stave off his heartbreak. Blaine catches Santana's eyes, and brightens up. "Where's Kurt?" he mouths. Santana doesn't know what to do. There's a reason why Kurt secluded himself inside Rachel's bedroom. He may have wanted a dark, quiet space, and he wanted to be alone. But the biggest reason is that he doesn't want Blaine to see him. But Santana knows that Blaine loves Kurt. In the same way that Kurt loves him. She does. She has a Mexican third-eye or whatever. Really, she's turning 30 this year, let's be real, she knows because Blaine is his best and brightest with Kurt beside him. Santana holds Blaine's gaze, but her serious expression immediately morphs Blaine's face into concern. She gestures to the closed door behind her.
Blaine excuses himself from the crowd, polite as ever, but definitely subdued and serious. He walks briskly to Santana, his focus all on Kurt. Santana tries to walk away casually to the food table at the back of the living room, but Blaine catches her arm. His face is neutral, but his grip is firm. "What's wrong?"
Santana gives him a long, hard look and purses her lips, "He's your best friend. You know him best." She's not trying to be evasive or cruel. It's the truth.
Blaine releases her, and turns the doorknob, opening it, and slipping into the dark room. Santana turns around and walks away, but not before she hears the bedroom door lock click.
Inside, Kurt anticipated this. Knows that his disappearance would look suspicious. If anything, he should be right there with Rachel and Dani, encouraging Elliot to do shots and cheering obnoxiously at nothing. When Blaine enters the room, Kurt has already washed and dried his face, and gives a soft smile while clutching his glass.
Blaine moves to sit beside him on the bed, and grabs Kurt's hand with both hands, and pulls Kurt's clammy hand into his lap, forcing Kurt to turn his body towards him. "What's going on?"
Kurt blinks twice. "The music. I was getting a bit of headache. You know I can only stand so much Katy Perry," he teases.
Blaine doesn't laugh. In fact, it seems like Blaine just ignored whatever Kurt just said, evaluating the crumpled tissues in the wastebasket, the faint red still ringing Kurt's eyes, and the red blotch at the back of Kurt's pale neck that always appears if Kurt's been crying or angry. "What's going on?"
"I just told you."
"No, you just lied to me. What's going on?" Blaine looks at Kurt, all kindness and understanding, and Kurt almost breaks. This is his best friend. Kurt has to be honest with Blaine.
"Well, I-"
A sudden, loud whoop from outside the bedroom jolts Kurt back from his conviction. This is Blaine and Elliot's engagement party. This is for Blaine. Blaine's not supposed to be here, clutching his hand, and comforting Kurt over something that really isn't anybody's fault. Blaine's supposed to be outside, making out with his fiancé.
Kurt gives a wobbly smile, "I'm just being silly. You know, the fact that you and Elliot being together and happy is just making me feel alone. I can't ever imagine being proposed to, and marrying the person you love any more. I feel kinda done with relationships. It's silly, I know. I promise I'll get over my stupid jealousy and envy, and I'll go out and party with you guys. I just had to wallow a bit."
Blaine seems to accept it, and Kurt wants to breathe a sigh of relief. Blaine knows that Kurt hasn't much luck in dating, and there's hasn't ever been anybody that had the same level of a committed and romantic heart as Kurt. But Blaine also knows Kurt. Especially when Kurt is lying, even if it is more convincing than his headache excuse. Clearly, Kurt doesn't want to talk about it right now, and Blaine can respect that. He won't push, because he knows that just makes Kurt more defensive and sarcastic.
"Kurt," Blaine smiles warmly, trying to emit as much support and care for his best friend, "you know I love you, right?"
"I know. I love you too."
*
The next morning, Blaine wakes up on the futon in the living room, and sees that he's wrapped around Kurt. He looks at him, his face looking so much more peaceful than the lingering tears from last night. Blaine's glad that he spent the night with him, there's no place than he'd rather be. Blaine presses a light kiss to Kurt's forehead, on his favourite freckle, the one that peeps out under his hairline and extracts himself without waking Kurt up. He shuffles into the kitchen, his mind surprisingly clear from hangovers given the number of celebratory shots he had last night. He supposes it makes sense. After all, once he left Kurt in the bedroom, Blaine had rejoined the party, but he didn't drink any more. His focus remained intently on the closed white door, waiting for it to open and have Kurt join them.
He did, eventually. And Kurt is a very talented actor, that no one but Blaine and Santana knew anything was wrong. Blaine didn't confront him again. If Kurt's decided not to talk about it in private behind closed doors, he certainly wasn't going to expect anything in a crowded room full of their drunk friends.
He blinks blearily at the memory and shuffles into Rachel's kitchen, so happy that Rachel had volunteered her spacious apartment for the party, because god knows that this many empty bottles and passed-out people would've been spilling out onto the hallway if it was his or Elliot's apartment.
Speaking of his boyfr- no, his fiance, Elliot is leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of water. "Hey babe," Elliot croaks, "How are you so okay?"
Blaine goes over to give him a tight hug and kisses Elliot softly on his lips while wrapping his arms around his waist. "I guess I was just focused on Kurt. How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right. I mean, ready to punch whoever's hammering in my head right now, but all right. How's Kurt? I know you were worried about him last night. I saw you two sleeping on the couch when I woke up this morning. Did you guys get to talk?"
And here is one of the reasons why Blaine loves Elliot. Because most people would not be as cool with their fiance cuddling someone else on the night of their engagement party. But Elliot understands completely, and there are no accusations or suspicious tones to the question. Blaine loves Kurt. Elliot gets it.
"No, don't think a party was exactly conductive to a deep, meaningful confession, you know? But I'll try again. You know what I'm excited for, my husband-to-be?"
Elliot can't help but kiss him hard for that. It hasn't hit him that Blaine and he are getting married. But they are. They are husbands-to-be. With equally beaming smiles, they squeeze their arms around each other tighter. "What are you excited for?"
"Well, for us to live together, find a place and be real, grown-up proper adults."
Elliot laughs, "We should probably discuss this again when I'm less hung-over, but you know that I don't want to move in with you until we're married."
"E, we're engaged."
"Yeah, but it's not the same. I thought we discussed this before. I want to move in with you when I'm married to you. That way, we have something new, you know? I already know I love you, and there's no disgusting habit of yours that I won't be able to put up with," Elliot bumps his nose against Blaine's teasingly, "It'll be more romantic, don't you think? Moving in together as husbands? Creating a new home just after we're married, unpacking boxes and being able to say, 'Oh that's my husband's?'"
Blaine sighs, letting himself be taken by the image that Elliot's painting in his head. He bites his lip, trying not to be influenced by the sheer giddiness that Elliot is radiating. Blaine's never been able to resist seeing Elliot happy. Blaine doesn't agree with the notion, but he doesn't disagree, either. "I get it," he chuckles, "But you have to know that I've always had the dream of living with someone, and officially sharing a bed and closet space. Getting to come home to you after a long day, and knowing that you'll always be there on the couch that we picked out together for the place. The comfort, knowing that you'll always be there. That home means the same place to us. Elliot, that's romantic to me. And I want it as soon as possible, I don't wait to wait as husbands."
"Blaine, you know, if we already live together and then get married, then nothing changes except for the title, but if we move in together after our wedding, then there's just, I don't know, more novelty about it. I want to pick a new place with my husband, and I want to move in with my husband. It just seems more romantic to me." Elliot ducks his head to kiss Blaine soundly, "Babe."
He sneaks his hand in Blaine's pants, careful that everyone else was still passed out, and stroking Blaine's cock through his boxers. "C'mon, let me convince you," he whispers in his ear, and Blaine inhales a sharp gasp.
All he can think is, This is Rachel's kitchen.
*
"Thanks for coming out with me," Blaine says, holding his hand and threading their fingers together. The sunny weather brightened Blaine's already good mood, and Blaine playfully swung Kurt's hand back and forth between them as they walked.
Kurt scoffs, "Please, I'm dying to see your suit," and Blaine laughs. He purposely chose his wedding suit without Kurt, because he wanted to see Kurt's surprised face on his wedding day. That first look for a groom, Blaine wants to see Kurt's. Blaine knows that he should probably be more aware about Elliot seeing him in his suit, but Elliot isn't one for sentimental wedding traditions.
It had taken Sam's convincing that "Uh yeah, dude, of course you should let Kurt look at your suit. He's the fashion master." Which is true, and logical, but Blaine kind of desperately wanted to have that magical moment with Kurt. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He's sort of having the moment today, having just Kurt go with him for his final fitting.
"God, I really hope you like it, Kurt. Your seal of approval is the most important factor here."
"Because I've been designing your wedding suit since we were seventeen?" Both Kurt and Blaine laugh at the memories of drunken promises, pacts, and dream weddings. Something twists inside Blaine's stomach; he wants Kurt's opinion on his suit for a much bigger reason than his impeccable fashion eye. Kurt's his best friend. Kurt's laugh ends with a giggle, and it's Blaine's favourite kind of giggle, all squeaky and no teeth, eyes and nose scrunching behind sunglasses. It's been a while since it was the two of them, and he's forgotten how much he misses the alone time. The past three months have been busy with work: Blaine's music teaching, Kurt's Broadway Peter Pan rehearsals, and of course, wedding planning.
"Let's make a detour," Kurt suggests, and Blaine's eyes brightened up as he knew exactly where he meant. Every time the weather's warm, they go get ice cream from their usual parlour. Kurt hopes that it'll also provide a time for him to actually sit down and talk to Blaine without friends and family bustling around them. All Kurt wants is to spend quality time with his best friend. Blaine automatically orders the cheesecake swirl, grabbing two spoons as he hands Tina, the server behind the counter, a bill. Tina smiles, always loving how happy Kurt and Blaine look together, armed with great gossip and conversation to entertain her every time.
"So, how are my favourite customers doing today?"
Blaine has one elbow on the top of the glass that displays the ice cream, and his chin resting in his hand as he grins widely at Tina, "Oh not too bad, you know..." his voice trails off, but wiggles his fingers, tapping against his chin.
Tina sees the obvious show of the ring on Blaine's finger, "Oh my god, that's right! You're getting married next month! Congratulations!" Blaine beams. Tina tries a subtle glance at Kurt's hand for any matching piece of jewellery. She knows that Blaine is marrying someone else, but she's always held out hope that it would be Kurt and Blaine, or if anything, that Kurt has found someone else. They're best friends, she knows, they've certainly made that clear during their first meeting when Tina thought they made the cutest couple. She still does. The way that Blaine gives that one-armed hug Kurt from behind to encourage him to indulge in the toppings, and the soft smile that Kurt gives Blaine as he always lets Blaine eat the first spoonful... it speaks of their fourteen years of love and comfort with each other.
Kurt sees Tina look at him. Is she waiting for him to say something? "Elliot's going to make a great husband," he says, and genuinely means it. It's been six months since Blaine and Elliot have gotten engaged, and the wedding's a month away. Kurt has learned to adapt. Be happy for his friends.
"Of course," Tina says, "What are you guys up to?"
Blaine pushes his sunglasses up to his head, "Well, I'm going to show Kurt my suit," "Finally," Kurt interjects.
"Yeah, finally. Whatever, you're seeing it soon," Blaine says, "And then just enjoy this beautiful day with some of my favourite people," he winks at Tina. Tina wants to swoon. She may be married, but Blaine's charm is a force to be reckoned with.
They both head to a corner table, near the window where they can enjoy the sunlight, and sit across from each other. They're taking turns spooning bites of ice-cream, when Blaine decides to place his spoon down on the table and primly clapses his hands together on the table. Kurt stops eating as well; it's obvious that Blaine has something important to say.
"Kurt, I just want to say thanks. Seeing you help organize all the wedding arrangements has just showed me how much you care and love me and want to make this a success."
Kurt ducks his head and wonders if this fits Alanis Morissette's definition of irony. "Of course, I'm your best man."
*
Kurt sits on the semi-circular couch in the private dressing room and waits for Blaine to come out behind the curtain.
He finally does, and oh. Oh my god. Blaine looks incredible. Movie-star handsome, hair styled in a slight pompadour. Kurt's heart literally skips a beat, and he's suddenly very grateful he's sitting down. His right hand moves to clutch at his heart, because Blaine looks... like a dream. Kurt moves the hand from his heart to the back of his neck, rubbing it, and maintaining a casual expression on his face while his insides melt.
Kurt thought he had genuinely gotten over Blaine. He loves Blaine, because he's his best friend. Nothing more. Seeing the blissful smiles on Blaine and Elliot's faces while they talk about their wedding had helped with him moving on. He's learned to get used to the slight pang in his chest. But right now, seeing Blaine in his tuxedo, Kurt knows he's kidding himself. Blaine walks towards him, biting his lip for Kurt's reaction, and oh - Kurt's mind easily flashes them into a wedding aisle. The same actions, Blaine walking towards him, but very different realities.
Blaine looks down to straighten his lapel and tug his jacket straighter before holding out his arms and smiling, "How do I look?"
Kurt meets Blaine's eyes, which are a softer hazel, and they both blush. Blaine's arms reach out for Kurt and pull him into a hug. This is it. Kurt closes his eyes and rests his cheek on top of Blaine's head, breathing in the moment. They're still for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, and Blaine has a soft smile on his face, looking peaceful and at home.
He doesn't want to break the silence, but Kurt feels obligated to answer Blaine's question, "Perfect. As always," he whispers.
Blaine clutches harder.
*
"I can't stop dreaming about Blaine across from me, and exchanging rings with me, holding my hand and looking into my eyes and us promising each other to love and support each other throughout everything. He looks so handsome, and I'm sure everyone else does too, but they don't matter, the whole world fades away behind Blaine. And my dad is whooping inappropriately, but that's okay, because no one can ruin this. No one can ruin what Blaine and I have." Kurt knows he's being redundant, that he's repeated this at least five times. He knows he's being crazy. Rachel and Mercedes are still around him, endless hugs of patience, nursing mugs of warm milk. His entire kitchen smells of comfort and nutmeg, trying to entice Kurt into being honest with himself. Santana had retreated to the living room couch an hour ago, tapping away at her phone, because she couldn't "deal with his copious amounts of whining" any more.
"I can't stop dreaming about exchanging wedding vows with Blaine, and I don't know what this means." He does. He knows, but he can't. He won't say it.
Rachel rubs Kurt's arms in a comforting gesture, and finally verbalizes his biggest denial, "Kurt, you're in love with him."
"No, no, I'm not, I can't be." He sees Mercedes about to open her mouth and offer some banal advice, and he cuts her off. "No, Mercedes, don't you see? I can't. I can't be in love with him, I don't think I could survive being in love with him and being his best man. I can't. I can't be in love with him, because I still have to get up and stand beside Blaine in 27 days while he promises himself to another man." His voice cracks at the last words, but Kurt steels himself, and wills himself not to cry. "Mercedes, Rachel, I appreciate what you're doing, and I know I'm the one who brought this up in the first place, but what I need from you right now is to tell me that I'm right. Tell me that I'm not in love with him."
Rachel stays quiet, and surprisingly, it's Mercedes who speaks. "Boo, you're right."
Both Kurt and Rachel blink at her in surprise.
"You're right, Kurt. Maybe this is you being scared of losing Blaine, of losing your best friend. I know that I was feeling crazy, jealous things when I thought I was losing mine," Mercedes smirks, and Kurt can't help but crack a small smile at the memory of Mercedes wanting to date him, smashing his car window, hugging him beside red lockers, so so long ago.
Mercedes doesn't let anyone interrupt her, "Kurt, everything you just said. About you and Blaine promising to love and support each other through everything... you've done that. You already have that. You're right. No one can ruin what you and Blaine have. It's the strongest friendship and love I've known. You're right. I know that, you know that, and Hell, even home-boy Elliot knows it. You have that, and clearly, the hot mess of insanity you are right now indicates that it's not enough. So, what does that mean?"
Rachel rubs at his arm encouragingly, resting her head against Kurt's shoulder and gazing up at him expectantly. He notices Santana putting her phone down, and fingers with long, red acrylic nails cup her chin. Mercedes smiles, and holds Kurt's hand.
He's feeling a mess of things right now, confused, elated, angry, frustrated, and sad. But most of all, he feels safe. Surrounded by his favourite girls, and all of them waiting for him to admit five words that he knows for sure.
"I'm in love with him."
"Boo, I'm not the one you should be saying that to," Mercedes' voice is kind, even though she'd be well-within her rights to brag. Rachel looks like she's about to squee, and Santana turns her head away, hair falling to cover her face, but not before Kurt sees the satisfied grin. "We'll leave you alone," Mercedes pats his hand and motions for Rachel and Santana to follow her. Rachel and Santana both shake their head to protest, but Mercedes' face leaves no room for argument. She folds her arms across her chest and raises an eyebrow until they both get up, grab their purses.
Santana, of course, gives Kurt a lewd wink before the door shuts behind her.
Kurt nods, exhales a deep breath, gearing up courage. Kurt smiles faintly, 'Courage'. "Yeah, okay," he agrees. Kurt reaches for his phone, and scrolls down his contacts to the letter B. He may have the number memorized already, but the familiar motion helps calm his nerves some. This call may just change everything.
"What's up Kurt?"
"Dad, how's the shop doing? Carole?"
"Not too bad, son, but I'm guessing you're not calling to ask about us. What's the call really about, Kurt?"
Kurt's warmed that his dad knows him so well, and blurts out, "Dad, do you think I'm a selfish person?"
"Far from it," Burt replies immediately, "What made you think that?"
"Well, the thing is, I'm in love with Blaine." Kurt pauses, thinking that Burt's going to interject, but he resolutely stays silent, "And he's engaged, dad. I don't know what to do."
"I don't have all the answers, son," Burt says, "But, all relationships are rooted in honesty. It's how you and I work, it's why we work. It's why you and Blaine always work out too. Because both of you try your best to be honest with each other. Have trust in Blaine, tell him."
"Dad, he's engaged."
"I know, son. I know just as well as you do. But look, the way I see it, Blaine's a smart kid, and he can make his own decisions. You have to respect Blaine enough to allow him to choose with full knowledge of all his options. How's he going to do that if you don't tell him? Be honest with him. You say you love him, and anyone with eyes can see that. Trust him. Respect him."
Kurt sighs. There's no way to excuse himself after this, because of course Kurt trusts Blaine. Of course Kurt respects him.
"I don't know what to tell you, bud, but if t were me, I'd tell him before it's too late." Burt's voice turns wistful, and Kurt knows they're both thinking about Finn.
Kurt crosses his arms on the kitchen table and rests his head on top of the table. He hangs up on Burt and dials Blaine's number.
"Hey, you free? Great, come over, please."
*
The doorbell rings. Kurt stands. He opens the door, and sees Blaine grinning shyly, eyes shining, even if there was a hint of worry there. Kurt felt a pang of guilt alongside his nerves. Kurt really hopes that Blaine can't feel his pounding heart through their chests as they hug in greeting.
Kurt leads Blaine to the couch, and they sit beside each other, and Kurt turns towards Blaine. He takes three deep breaths to steady himself. His mind is cycling through frustration, guilt, and hope (that's new.), and he has to figure out what to do and how to say it.
"Kurt, everything okay?" And Kurt almost wants to make an excuse, say that this is a social call, just to see how Blaine's doing. Kurt can't just blurt out his feelings, he needs an opening. Blaine must read something on his face, because he continues speaking, "I don't think this is an 'I miss you' meet-up considering we spent the whole day yesterday together buying suits."
Well, that's an opening.
"About that," he pauses, unsure, but Blaine's earnest eyes unravel all his doubts, "Yesterday made me realize something. Seeing you in your wedding suit. I don't want you to get married."
"Kurt?!" Blaine's eyes widen in shock.
"Let me clarify. I don't want you to marry him. I feel like... I just... I..."
"What are you saying?"
Kurt's entire body tenses, his eyes looking dead-straight into Blaine's, "I'm in love with you," and almost unconsciously, tips his head towards Blaine, because he just needs to be closer.
Blaine kisses him.
Their lips lock, and Blaine's hand automatically comes up to Kurt's neck, as if this is a familiar motion. Kurt kisses back fervently, sucking on Blaine's bottom lip before opening his mouth. Kurt closes his eyes at the wet, firm press of a tongue. Blaine's other hand grasps Kurt's cheek to adjust their mouths better. They kiss until they have to breathe, and even then, they don't separate, until Kurt's lungs feel like they're about to burst. Finally, they pull back slightly for breath, and Kurt sees Blaine's eyes open and widen once he's realizes what they've done. They're both panting, but their positions still frozen. Kurt can't stop looking at Blaine's glistening, red lips. But now is not the time and place. Blaine seems to be in shock, and Kurt slowly pulls back, reaches up, and removes both of Blaine's hands away from his neck. He gives each palm a quick peck before letting go.
The lack of contact seems to waken something up in Blaine, "I- I-", he stammers.
Kurt understands. "Go."
And Blaine does.
*
Burt's just cleaning up the kitchen when his cell phone rings. He quickly wipes his hands on a nearby towel and picks it up before the loud ringing wakes up Carole. It's Blaine, and Burt's somehow surprised and expecting the call at the same time.
"Hey Burt, sorry for calling so late, I know you're probably ready for bed."
"Hey Blaine, don't worry about it. It's not even midnight yet, and I'm not as old as you think. Everything okay between you and Kurt?"
Blaine barks out a teary, wet laugh. "I'm not sure."
"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" Burt says, and he hears Blaine inhale sharply on the other end of the line, before he starts babbling.
"I've been walking around Central Park for an hour. I'm so confused. Burt, Kurt loves me. He's in love with me. And I don't know how to process that. I kissed him, and it was... the best. I just, I love Kurt, but I don't know if I'm in love with him, he's just Kurt, you know, he's on a special level, regular scales of measurement don't apply with him, he's my best friend. He's everything. But Elliot. I'm marrying Elliot in less than four weeks. And Elliot's sweet, kind, and he's my fiancé, and I love him too."
"Blaine." Burt's heart hurts for Blaine. He can't imagine the internal turmoil that this is causing Blaine. Kurt may be his son by blood, but Blaine is family too. And the fact that he trusted Burt enough to call him about this? Burt's going to his damn best to stand by, and do the best for Blaine.
Blaine heaves, and Burt's not sure if he's crying or not. "I just don't know what to feel."
Oh kiddo. "Blaine, would it be completely foolish of me to ask you who you love more?"
"I love Elliot, I do. And I don't want to be that guy, I'm not that guy, I'm never going to that guy who lies to his fiancé. I don't know what to do. I just love Elliot so much, and I hate hurting him."
"Well Blaine," and Burt's voice cracks, and he wants to blame it on the signal connection. "It sounds like you've already decided."
*
Blaine rings the bell on Elliot's door, and Elliot greets him with a warm smile, "Blaine, babe! This is a surprise!" Elliot turns a head towards the clock, "It's, like, two in the morning, though? You all right?"
Elliot's hair is spiked in a puff above his head, wearing a soft sweater that Blaine wants to rub his face in, cuddle, and forget about this.
"Elliot, I need to tell you something," Blaine lifts his eyes to the ceiling, before meeting Elliot's concerned gaze, "I kissed Kurt today. He's in love with me."
Elliot's jaw drops in shock, and his eyebrows furrow as he chokes out, "Excuse me?"
"Um," Blaine gulps, unsure of how to proceed. He doesn't have to.
"What the fuck, Blaine? And are you in love with him too? Do you love him?" Elliot's voice is rising and Blaine knows he should say something, but he's speechless. In the two years he's been with Elliot, he's never seen him so angry. Blaine's scared. His eyes sting with tears, and he bites his lip.
"Elliot, I'm so sorry."
"Answer the question, Blaine, are you in love with him?"
Blaine should say no. He knows this, but what he told Burt was true too, he's never been the guy to lie to his fiancé. "Elliot, I don't. I can't. Say." Blaine can't verbalize anything, it feels like there's multiple words, condolences and difficult truths, clawing at his throat. He's finding it hard to breathe, and Elliot's eyes are blazing, bright with anger, "Were you always in love with him, Blaine? Did you ever love me? Were you just stringing me along?"
Blaine shakes his head and finally finds his voice, "No, no, no, Elliot. I love you. I do. I do, I'm so sorry," and Blaine can feel himself start to cry, "I love you. I just. I-"
"You love him more." Elliot finishes, and his voice is resigned. Still furious, eyes glaring, but voice quiet.
"What? No, of course not," but it sounds weak even to Blaine's ears.
"Tell me, Blaine, when you imagine your future, when you think about walks in the park, kids, and retirement homes, who do you think of?"
Blaine sobs, unable to answer. He's so sorry, because he knows who he sees. Always. A fixture in his future. And it's not the wonderful, caring man in front of him right now. He sees Elliot bring his hand under his eye to wipe away tears as well, and he hates this. He hates hurting anyone, but especially Elliot.
"What do you want, Elliot? Whatever you want."
"I want you, Blaine, I still do. I love you. But I also want to marry someone who loves me first. And you're not the same person any more."
Blaine nods, still gulping breaths of air to try and calm down. He twists the ring from his finger, the sweat making everything harder. Finally, he gets it off and places it on the counter, the silver band stark against the black marble. "E, I'm so sorry."
Elliot walks to the door, one hand on the doorknob. "I know. That doesn't help." He twists the door open and gestures for Blaine to leave, "I have a yoga retreat coming up. I don't think I'll see you around."
Blaine leaves without saying goodbye. Elliot slams the door before he can.
*
Kurt's doorbell rings again, and Kurt knows that it can only be Blaine. Who else would come knocking at four in the morning?
He opens the door and sees Blaine looking as tired as he feels. Blaine croaks out, "It has been the most trying day of my life, and I just need -"
Kurt's heart shatters. "Shh, it's okay," he beckons Blaine towards him. Blaine's voice is the kind of hoarse that results from too much crying. Kurt slings one arm over his shoulder, and wraps the other around Blaine's waist. He squeezes hard, like Blaine's coming apart at the seams, and he's the only one holding him together.
" I'm so sorry."
"No, don't apologize. This whole night has been shitty as Hell, and my head hurts and I can't think any more. I can't say any more apologies and I can't accept them. I've been going out of my fucking mind, and I feel like I've been through the wringer. But, right now feels okay. It's the only thing that feels okay. Kurt, I don't know anything right now. I don't know what to feel any more, but I can't lose you."
"No matter what, you're never going to lose me."
Blaine smiles, and presses his face in Kurt's shoulder. He sighs, like he's relieved. "Kurt, can we please just go to bed?"
Kurt smiles, and leads Blaine to the shower first. They're both wiped, but Kurt knows that Blaine can't sleep without washing out his gel first. As Kurt's waiting for the water to warm up, he tugs Blaine's sweater up and over him, he pulls his pants down and off. They're both naked, kissing softly, but almost absent-mindedly. Kurt knows it's not a prelude to sex, it's pure comfort.
Still, his body can't help but react, and he sees Blaine is struggling with the same problem. They're warm, they're together, and the water is the perfect temperature. They step in, hugging each other, being careful not to slip and fall, even though them holding on to each other was probably more dangerous. Kurt just can't let go, and Blaine can't keep his hands off Kurt.
Kurt directs Blaine under the stream of water, pushing his hand through the thick, black hair and washing off the gel. He can't help but duck his head and press his lips under Blaine's jaw, feels the moan through the vibrations of Blaine's throat. He grabs some shampoo, and massages Blaine's head until all the soap has been washed off, and all that's left is Blaine's closed eyes and blissful face.
Blaine pumps some soap into his hand, and still with closed eyes, swipes Kurt's chest with soap. It's haphazard, not meant for cleanliness but for exploring that hard chest and thumbing at Kurt's nipples. Kurt's breathing labours, as does Blaine, and he slowly turns Blaine around in the water, so he can just reach down and grab that ass.
Blaine gasps, and sputters as he accidentally swallows some water. He turns back around to Kurt, grabs Kurt's face and pulls their mouths together. "God, how do you already," Kiss, "know that I love having my ass squeezed?" Kiss.
Kurt may have been tired before, but he's fully awake now, and he growls, before pressing Blaine's body even closer. Hot and hard against him, and tongues Blaine's earlobe, eliciting babbling praises from Blaine's lips. "Oh, yes," and Blaine's head knocks back in pleasure.
Blaine adjusts their bodies slightly, before rocking his hips forward, and the friction is a little harsh at first, the water weirdly making everything slightly rougher. It's perfect for that moment, and Kurt thrusts up and against Blaine harder, until Blaine's gasping out moans.
"God, Kurt, please, bed, bed. Let's get to the bed."
They both dry each other with quick swipes of a towel, skin still warm and damp. Kurt grabs the lube and condoms, and tosses them towards the pillows. They fall into the bed, Blaine on top of Kurt.
Kurt licks at Blaine's bottom lip, and he opens it before tangling their tongues together. Kurt wraps a hand around Blaine's length, while Blaine nips at Kurt's throat. Kurt whines, his sensitive neck tingling from the small bites that Blaine's giving him. He tugs harder at Blaine's cock. "Oh Blaine, that's just... unfair." He tries to move his neck away from Blaine so he can think straight, and he's tugging his head while Blaine's teeth are still latched on. Blaine practically pulls at the skin near his Adam's apple. Kurt groans loudly.
When Kurt flips them around, the breath rushes out of Blaine. He always forgets how strong Kurt can be. Blaine reaches for Kurt's waist with one arm, and the other tangles in Kurt's hair as he pulls Kurt's mouth towards him. He deepens the kiss, sucking, biting, and pulling.
Kurt responds with a moan and hooks Blaine's leg on his shoulder. God, Blaine's never been more grateful to be flexible. He continues kissing Kurt, until he feels one of Kurt's hand cradling his ass, fingers ghosting over his hole. He whines, "Kurt, c'mon."
But Kurt doesn't press inside. Kurt moves deliberately slowly, sitting up a little, and lets his fingers wander up and around the soft skin. Under his balls, squeezing gently until Blaine's writhing beneath him. He lingers at the underside of Blaine's cock, slowly stroking.
"Please Kurt, please," Blaine begs.
Kurt ignores his pleas and turns his head towards Blaine's ankle resting on his shoulder. He makes a wet trail of lush kisses all around Blaine's ankle and up his calf and Blaine hooks around Kurt's neck before growling, "Kurt, do something. Now."
"Pass me the lube," Kurt pants, and Blaine stretches out and reaches above him on the bed, hand scrabbling trying to find the lube buried somewhere within the pillows.
He grabs it, and gives a triumphant shout, so proud and smug and so turned on. Kurt bursts into laughter, "Really Blaine? Yelling victory? While we're having sex?"
Blaine can't help but giggle, but then that also makes his cock bob against his stomach, "Kurt, I'm hilarious, you can hold it against me later, just fuck me now, okay?"
Kurt's laughter dies and his eyes darken. "Okay," he whispers, "What do you want?"
"Hmm, your fingers, but not too much."
Kurt slicks up his fingers and warms up the lube before rubbing the rim of Blaine's hole. Blaine starts to babble, murmuring swear words and exaltations in an incomprehensible mess of sounds.
"Fuck, you're hot," Kurt groans, and starts dipping his fingers inside, drawing sighs and moans until Blaine demands more.
Kurt puts on the condom and pushes in halfway before he stops. He wants to make sure that Blaine can adjust to him. Blaine gives Kurt a pointed look, and thrusts onto Kurt's cock so hard that their bodies slam into each other. "Fuck me."
Kurt pistons his hips and starts pounding at Blaine unrelentingly, and Blaine is puncturing each thrust with a loud gasp.
Blaine pulls his other knee against his chest, so that Blaine's basically bent in half, Kurt's cock driving into Blaine hard. It changes the angle, and Blaine's stomach twists before he's convulsing and coming. "Don't stop, keep on going."
Kurt continues, groaning at the clamp of Blaine's body around him and thrusts even quicker, short jabs until he hears Blaine groan at the over-sensitivity. Blaine lathers Kurt's neck with kisses, and grabs Kurt's cock. Kurt comes.
He pulls out and throws the condom out, both of them panting, sweaty and now, really, truly exhausted. They kiss sloppily, and Blaine positions himself so that he's spooning Kurt, both of them facing the window. Outside, the sky turns pink-red, the sun ready to rise - the beginning of a new day.
Blaine whispers, happy, sated, "Kurt, I belong with you, pressed up against your back and your arms wrapped around mine. I belong with you. And I'm happy to be."
Kurt smiles, he'd be giddy if he wasn't so damn tired. But still, he has to say this, "You know when you're sitting at the bottom of a rollercoaster, and you realize that the hill is coming, and you can already feel your stomach drop from the fall before you've even started the climb? Loving you is like that. I think I've always loved you, I just didn't know it."