Work Text:
January 13, 1989
Blaine watched from his car as Kurt walked up his driveway, grinning when Kurt paused to turn back and wave and smile shyly at him. He was blushing a little, probably because of the things Blaine whispered in his ear as he kissed him goodbye, promises of later that night. It was Friday, which meant Hummel-Hudson family dinner time, and Blaine would be back to see Kurt later, after his own family dinner.
Sometimes he stayed for dinner with them as well, but he tried to balance it between the two – even almost a year later (ten months! They had been dating for over ten months!), his parents still didn’t really get any of it. So, they just avoided the subject, and Blaine tried to be home for at least a few Friday dinners every month, where they’d talk about their work and his school and Paul, his brother in Chicago, and the weather and the White Sox and everything that didn’t have to do with Kurt. His parents had obviously seen pictures of Kurt in his room – polaroids from Rachel’s party when they finally got together, prints from the 110 film camera Kurt had carried around in his pocket all summer to document it – and even exchanged pleasant hellos at New Directions’ fall invitational. That was the extent of it, though, and it made Blaine a little sad, because he was really, really happy with Kurt and his parents didn’t want anything to do with that. Mr. Hummel – no, Burt – was gruff at first towards Blaine, but came around eventually, and even mentioned that he considered Blaine family when he said he wasn’t staying dinner a few weeks ago. Whether that was how he felt or because Blaine spent practically every moment possible at their house was undecided.
Since Friday nights were family dinners at Kurt’s house, they’d stuck to their pre-dating ritual of coffee afterwards. The Lima Bean had finally caved and started stocking paper coffee cups – even though most places had been doing it for at least twenty years, they held out for so long, trying to give off the impression that they were an actual coffee shop, not a big box chain. But since they now had six different shops around Ohio, they kind of were. Blaine was happy when they switched because that meant he and Kurt could take their coffee elsewhere – they tried not to stick around in public together for too long since they got enough snide remarks (and slushie facials) during school hours.
Plus, a few miles south of the lookout in the woods where most kids from McKinley usually congregated on Friday night, there was this perfect spot that no one had figured out yet. It made for beautiful scenery while they drank their coffee and, more often than not, made out. They certainly couldn’t make out in the Lima Bean.
Blaine pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition on his Caprice. He walked to the mailbox whistling I Want To Know What Love Is which had just been playing on the radio. He pulled out the stack of mail – bills, bills, advertisement, a card from his grandmother for his mom and then – a large white envelope with the emblem of the University of Chicago in the corner.
Blaine breathed in sharply. He and Kurt had visited quite a few colleges in Illinois after Nationals in May, when they stayed a few extra days with Paul, but Kurt instantly fell in love with the theater program at the University of Chicago. He loved the old theater which had been around for over ninety years, and hadn’t been able to contain his excitement talking to a few of the students that day.
It wasn’t a matter of getting in – Blaine knew he and Kurt should both be okay on that end, with their excellent grades and extracurriculars – but of paying. They’d both applied for scholarships with the help of Ms. Pillsbury - Blaine an academic one and Kurt an all-inclusive theater one for which they had actually driven out to Chicago with Carole one weekend for him to perform a solo and monologue for the panel of trustees. Both of their fathers had set aside some money for college - Blaine’s more than Kurt’s - but the University of Chicago was a private school, and expensive. Given how Blaine’s parents acted about his relationship with Kurt, he had half a mind that they’d not pay for his schooling when they found out he’d be attending with him and that their relationship (and the gay thing, as he heard his father call it to his mother once) wasn’t going to change once he was out of high school. His father had graduated from the University of Illinois, where Paul also attended, and he didn’t want that held over his head as well.
Blaine unlocked the door and tossed the rest of the mail on the table by the entryway, turning the white envelope over and over again in his hands. He pursed his lips, wondering if Kurt had gotten a letter today too - probably not, surely the scholarships operated on separate schedules. He checked the clock on the wall. It was after five, so his parents would be home soon and Kurt's family was probably just sitting down to dinner. Burt hated the phone ringing during dinner, so there was no way he going to call. He walked into his room and shut the door for some privacy, even though he was alone.
Blaine slid his pointer finger under the free edge of the envelope, working it open. He pulled out the stack of papers and unfolded them; there was a letter on top and he took a deep breath before he started reading.
Mr. Blaine Anderson,
Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you of your early acceptance to the University of Chicago for the 1989-1990 school year. In addition to your acceptance, you have been awarded a full academic scholarship ...
Blaine sighed in relief. Halfway there. Now, Kurt just needed to get his letter and in August they'd be gone from Lima, hopefully forever.
He heard a knock on his door and saw his mother opening it - something he never understood and why he and Kurt didn't ever hang out at his house. Why bother knocking if you aren't going to wait for permission to enter? He must have looked stunned, because his mother's smile quickly vanished. "Blaine, honey," she said, tilting her head to the side to look at him. "Are you okay?"
Blaine didn't quite have words yet, so he just nodded and handed her the letter. He saw her eyes scan the page before she exclaimed, "Blaine! Oh, Henry, come here!" When Blaine's father appeared in the doorway, she handed off the letter and came to hug him. Blaine leaned into her, realizing that they hadn't hugged, really hugged, since he had come out.
His dad clapped him on the back. "Nice work, Blaine," he said, looking at Blaine's mother - and were there tears in her eyes? "We're very proud of you."
Proud? Yeah, that hadn't happened since he had come out either. He filed the moment away in his brain for future reference, not knowing when it would happen again.
---
Blaine's family usually ate dinner later than Kurt's, which Blaine hated, because that meant if he went home for dinner, the two of them lost about an hour of quality Friday time together. This particular night, however, his mom decided they should order take out from their favorite Italian place to celebrate Blaine's letter, which was a very thoughtful thing to do, but again, time was being wasted in Blaine's opinion. By the time they sat down to dinner, it was after six-thirty. He quickly called Kurt from his room, telling him he'd be late, but didn’t have enough time to explain.
"So," his mom had started, smiling as she handed him a plate full of spaghetti, fettuccine alfredo, and salad, "your dad and I were talking." She said it in a sing-song voice that made Blaine curious for her next statement.
"About?" Blaine asked, setting his plate at the table and heading to the drawer to grab three forks for them.
"Since we have money saved for you for college, we were thinking." She paused a moment to set down her own plate and Blaine's father's before sitting down at the table. "It is our understanding that the University of Chicago does not require freshman to live on campus. We were thinking we would use the money to pay for an off campus apartment for you, with a few conditions."
Blaine couldn't believe his luck - he and Kurt had discussed worries about living with roommates when they got to college, especially since they weren’t likely to be cool with them being gay, plus the whole sharing bathrooms thing - but his heart sank when he heard there were conditions placed on this arrangement. He knew Kurt himself would probably be one of those conditions.
"What ... what are these conditions?" Blaine asked, slowly. He twirled some pasta on his fork, keeping his gaze on that instead of his parents.
"One - you need to get a two bedroom, so your brother can live with you," his dad started. Not a big deal, Blaine thought. He'd lived with Paul for the first sixteen years of his life, as long as he had his own room, Blaine didn't have a problem with that. "He could use a little motivation. When Paul graduates in two years, we'll re-evaluate what needs to happen then, whether you get a roommate or move to a smaller place."
Blaine nodded. So, he was going to have to play babysitter to his brother - who was two years his senior. Blaine knew Paul was having some trouble with some of his classes, but he wasn't flunking out, so again, no problem.
"Two, the place has to be convenient to both schools - unless of course, you get a scholarship to the U of I, then that'll be easy, right?" His dad grinned as he spoke of his alma mater. Blaine smiled back, though not as brightly, and neglected to mention that he hadn’t applied for a scholarship at the University of Illinois.
"Sure, Dad," Blaine answered, keeping his smile even though he thought he knew what was coming next. "What else?"
"That's it, honey," Blaine's mom replied, patting his arm. "We're so excited for you!"
>Blaine just stared blankly back at her for a moment. This was just like everything else, of course they wouldn't mention Kurt. They liked to pretend he didn't exist. Well. "I'm excited too, Mom," Blaine replied, his voice a little stiff, before turning back to his meal.
---
Blaine didn't go straight to Kurt's when he left. He rounded up all of the dimes in his room and headed to the pay phone on the next street over. He first called Kurt, apologizing and saying he had good news to share. He then called his brother, who was surprisingly home on a Friday night. He pulled his coat tight around him as his brother answered – it was starting to snow, but this was better than talking to Paul at home where his parents might overhear his proposal.
"Paul!" Blaine exclaimed when he answered. "Have you talked to Mom and Dad?"
"Yeah, I just got off the phone with them, are you psychic or something, bro?" Blaine could hear Paul laughing on the other, tinny and far away, the connection on the pay phone awful.
"So, they told you about the apartment," Blaine said, pulling at the phone cord, trying to get a better connection.
"Yeah, and I have an idea! You know Angie?" Blaine hummed in response; Angie was Paul's on-again, off-again girlfriend, who he had met when he and Kurt had visited him last May. "She totally needs a place to live next semester, so I thought maybe she could stay in my room and, you know, Kurt could stay in yours. The four of us living together and we don't tell Mom and Dad. Kurt's still coming, right?"
Blaine couldn't hold back the smile. "This is why you're my brother - I was calling to suggest the same thing." Not exactly Angie, because he wasn't sure where they stood, but this worked. If Kurt got his scholarship, room and board was covered, but that didn't mean he had to stay there, especially if he had an awful roommate. "We'll make sure we get a large two bedroom that's big enough for four people. We're brilliant, Paul."
"Nah, you're the brilliant one, I think they're doing this partly because you'll make me study." Paul laughed again on the other end.
"You do just fine, Paul. But yeah, I probably will make you study more." Blaine laughed again, just as the automated voice came on asking him to deposit more change. "I'm out of money, Paul, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" They quickly said goodbye and Blaine hopped in his Caprice, speeding a little to get to Kurt. He'd debated not telling him until Kurt got his letter, but this was too good - they'd make it work, even if Kurt didn't get the scholarship.
Blaine couldn't keep the grin off his face when he rang the doorbell. Kurt opened with a huff. "What took so long? Why are you so happy?" he said, softening a bit when he saw Blaine's expression.
"I got in," Blaine replied, "with scholarship."
Kurt made a loud, high-pitched squealing noise and threw himself at Blaine, who just laughed and hugged back. Burt and Carole had wandered out to see what the commotion was, and Kurt surprisingly didn't let go of the hug when they did. They usually didn't hug in front of Kurt's parents, even though they were okay with everything. Kurt leaned down slightly to kiss Blaine on the cheek, and whispered in his ear, "This is really happening, isn't it?" Blaine nodded and nudged Kurt a little so he'd notice they had company, and Kurt finally pulled away.
"Blaine got into the University of Chicago with a full scholarship," Kurt said hurriedly, pulling Blaine inside. He wiped the snow off his boots on the doormat and was greeted with more hugs by Carole and even Burt.
"That's great, kid," Burt said, clapping him on his back - not unlike his father had. "Congrats."
By the time they finally made it out of the house, it was almost nine o'clock and the Lima Bean closed at nine. Kurt suggested hot chocolate from the bakery instead since it was open until ten – he really must have been excited for Blaine – so they'd picked some up, and Blaine's hadn't even cooled by the time they were parked and settled.
They sat in silence, both sipping at their styrofoam cups and Blaine watching Kurt a little too intently. He shook his head to snap out of it and asked, "So, are you worried about your letter? Because you shouldn't be."
Kurt didn't answer for a moment. "I am," he said slowly, "but I'm trying really hard to not be around you. I want to be excited for you." Kurt smiled lovingly at him and they intertwined their free hands. It meant a lot to Blaine that Kurt was trying to push aside his worries for him – he knew Kurt wasn't usually one to do that.
"Well, I have something that will cheer you up," he said, then proceeded to tell him about the apartment and his conversation with his parents, and then the following one with Paul.
“So, let me get this straight,” Kurt started, a skeptical expression on his face. “Your parents are going to pay for an apartment for you and Paul. Angie and I are going to live in said apartment with you, and no one is going to tell your parents.”
“Pretty much,” Blaine said, taking another sip of his hot chocolate.
“Blaine,” Kurt said with a sigh. “It all sounds wonderful, but am I the only one who thinks this could go horribly wrong?”
“Yes,” Blaine said softly, bringing Kurt’s hand up to kiss it. “Don’t think so much.”
Kurt shot him an incredulous look, knowing Blaine was trying to avoid his questions. “But …,“ he started, trailing off when Blaine flipped his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. “Stop trying to distract me.”
Blaine just grinned and repeated his actions. “You really want me to stop, huh?”
They returned to silence for a few moments, Blaine continuing to kiss at Kurt’s wrist and up his arm. “No,” Kurt finally breathed out, sighing in defeat, “but just know this conversation isn’t over.”
“Of course not,” Blaine replied sagely. "I'd just like to go back to being happy for me, at least for one night." He grinned at Kurt, putting his hot chocolate in his drink holder, and then taking Kurt's and doing the same.
"Blaine," Kurt protested at the loss of his drink. "I'm going to freeze if we sit here with no heat and no hot chocolate."
Blaine glanced around quickly to make sure they were still alone. They'd been coming to this spot since school started up again - not every Friday, especially now that the snow had set in - but they'd never seen another car or person. Blaine was sure their luck was bound to change, so he always checked anyway. Seeing nothing but trees and branches, he climbed over the console between their seats and into Kurt's lap. They usually moved to the back seat, but that would take much too long.
"I'll keep you warm," Blaine said, laughing at himself a little.
"Blaine." Kurt rolled his eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"
Blaine nosed at Kurt's neck, placing a trail of kisses along it when Kurt tilted his head backwards. "You're going to kiss me, that's what you're going to do with me. Today is my day, and when you get your letter you can make fun of my cheesy lines all you want."
January 31, 1989
Kurt's letter didn't come for almost three more weeks, by which time Blaine was ready to beat his head against the wall. Kurt may have been trying to downplay his neuroses at first, but each day he got a little more wound up when he checked the mailbox.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Blaine was staying over after school and for dinner so he could study with Kurt for their French test. Kurt had driven to school that day, and like he had every day since Blaine had received his letter, he jumped out of the car and rushed to the mailbox. Blaine had taken to slowly following Kurt down the driveway, figuring each day it wasn't going to come.
He watched Kurt quickly sift through the mail and saw his eyes grow wide. Blaine jogged to meet him at the mailbox, and sure enough, Kurt held a white envelope addressed to him in his hands. "Was yours this thin?" Kurt whispered.
Blaine's heart sank just a little bit. "Just open it," he blurted out. No, his hadn't been that thin, and it must have shown on his face, because Kurt raced inside and Blaine followed quickly behind him.
Kurt sat down at the kitchen table, placing the letter on its surface. Blaine sat next to him and they stared at the envelope for what seemed like an eternity. They both jumped in surprise when they heard the front door open. Blaine heard Rachel and Finn whispering as they wandered down the hall, and a moment later they were standing in the entryway to the kitchen. "What are you guys doing?" Finn asked with a confused glance.
"Kurt got a letter from the University of Chicago and we're staring at it until he decides to open it," Blaine answered, looking up at the pair sympathetically.
Rachel let out a shriek and ran over to Kurt's side. "Kurt. You have to open it," she prodded, gripping his arm tight and sliding the envelope closer to him.
"But what if I didn't get it?" Kurt said, his voice very small and saying exactly what had been on his and Blaine’s minds for the past three weeks, although neither of them had ever had the guts say it.
Blaine grabbed his hand and pointedly looked into Kurt's eyes. "Then you didn't get it. We move on to Plan B, and at the very least, you'll have a place to live in Chicago while we figure things out."
Kurt tilted his head and smiled at him, his eyes shining a little, and god, did Blaine love this boy. "Here," Kurt said, pushing the letter towards Blaine with his free hand. "You do it."
Blaine watched Kurt for a moment, as if to ask you sure?, only opening the envelope after Kurt nodded at him.
When he picked it up for the first time, he realized how much thinner it was than his own had been, and when he opened it, there was only one page inside. He unfolded it and looked at his friends, Rachel now clutching Kurt's hand and Finn in the chair next to him, watching with rapt attention, which was huge for him.
"Mr. Kurt Hummel," Blaine started to read aloud. "Every year, the Wasserstein Foundation awards five scholarships to deserving individuals who are accepted into the Theater and Performance Studies Program at the University of Chicago and complete a rigorous audition process. We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to the Theater and Performance Studies Program, however ..." Blaine paused for a moment as he realized what was coming. "However, the Wasserstein Foundation is unable to offer you a full scholarship at this time ..." He looked up at Kurt, expecting the worst, but he seemed surprisingly calm. "I'm so sorry, Kurt."
"It's okay," Kurt said quickly. He glanced at each one of them. "It's really okay. I got in and have a place to live, right? That's more than most people can say." He laughed weakly and Rachel pulled him into a tight hug.
"It's amazing, Kurt," she said, not letting go of her death grip on him and looking pointedly at Finn.
"Yeah, man, still really cool," Finn added before turning back to Blaine. "What else does it say?"
Blaine looked back to the letter, speed reading through it. "Kurt!" he exclaimed, "There's more! Even though we are unable to offer you a full scholarship, because of your stellar application and audition, you have been selected for a partial scholarship, which offers you a seventy-five percent tuition reduction. You will be receiving a packet in the mail with further details. Kurt!"
Kurt just blinked at him. "Seventy-five percent? That's really what it says?" He snatched the paper from Blaine's hand and read for himself. "Seventy-five percent! Blaine! That's definitely doable!" Kurt extracted himself from Rachel's grip and threw himself at Blaine, almost knocking him off his chair.
"This is really happening, isn't it?" Blaine mimicked from Kurt's words when he told him his news.
Kurt just laughed. "It is so happening, Blaine Anderson."
February 27, 1989
Kurt was running around the kitchen frantically, while his dad was saying something from the living room. Earlier in the week, he had practically begged his dad and Carole to go out for the night, since it was a Sunday after all. It was his first anniversary with Blaine and he wanted it to be perfect. He told Blaine not to worry about a thing, and decided staying in would give them a much better chance of achieving something close to perfect. Kurt had been trying new recipes from his mom's old cookbook for family dinners on Fridays - there was no way he and Blaine would be eating fast food and condensed soup for four years like Paul did - but there was one he'd been saving for tonight: chicken Marsala. Blaine had ordered the dish at Breadstix before, when they'd gone out with Mercedes and Rachel, and it had been one of Kurt’s mom's specialties. He had been too afraid to attempt it before now, but he'd done a test run last Friday when Blaine didn't attend family dinner, and it had turned out wonderfully.
There was some noise coming from the living room, but Kurt couldn’t make out what it was. "Hold on, I can't hear you!" Kurt called from the kitchen, watching the pot that the potatoes were boiling in. After deciding he could step away for a moment, he turned and walked into the living room. "What, Dad?" His father was sitting in his armchair, still in his uniform from a day at the shop. "You are going to change, right? You can't take Carole out like that."
Burt just laughed at him. "Yeah, sure, kid. I'll wear something nice." Kurt had made reservations at first for himself and Blaine at their favorite tiny French restaurant in Lafayette - but at the last minute, after remembering the snide remarks an older couple had made under their breath the last time they'd visited, Kurt changed his mind and told Carole she and his dad should take the reservations. It helped that it was a bit of a drive, which would give Kurt and Blaine plenty of time to celebrate alone. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help."
Kurt walked over to where he was sitting, and pulled his father up by the arm. "You can help me by taking a shower and getting ready so you'll be able to leave in thirty minutes and not be late for your reservation. Go on, now," he said, pushing him in the direction towards the stairs, not even waiting for a response before heading back into the kitchen, cursing under his breath when he heard the water boiling over.
Finn wandered into the kitchen just as Kurt was beginning to prepare the chicken breasts, and Kurt could hear him inhale deeply. "Dude, are you making that chicken stuff again? Because that was amazing."
"I am," Kurt replied, keeping his attention on the chicken and not Finn. "If you keep Rachel out all the way to curfew, I'll make sure you get the leftovers instead of Blaine." He decided not to tell Finn that there would be plenty of leftovers anyway. He was making the same amount as he'd made for the whole family on Friday, not wanting to jinx it with halving the recipe.
"Awesome," he heard Finn reply, and he could hear the smile in his voice. "I hope you guys have a nice time tonight."
That got Kurt's attention, and he turned to face Finn. Finn's hands were in his pockets, and he was sheepishly staring at a spot on the floor, almost as if he was embarrassed for his feelings. Finn had come so far in the past year and a half, and Kurt could barely believe the boy standing in front of him was the one who used to interrogate him about his outings with Blaine, back when neither of them even knew Blaine was gay. He almost wanted to hug him. "Thanks, Finn, that means a lot." Kurt opted for a smile instead of a hug, and really needed to turn his attention back to the food. "Now, get out of here before I feed your leftovers to the neighbor's dog."
The look on Finn's face was priceless and Kurt had to hold back a giggle. "Okay, okay," Finn muttered, turning and heading for the door.
He was just pulling the potatoes off the stove when Carole and his father walked in, Burt doing a little spin as if to say see, I can clean up pretty well! "Wait, you two look so nice!" Kurt said, wiping his hands on his apron and walking over to the opposite counter to grab his camera - he’d loaded it with a new roll of film before he started cooking. "Smile!" he exclaimed, taking a few photos of them, because they really did clean up well and it was finally starting to set in - he wouldn't be here next year. He slipped the camera strap onto his wrist and walked over to them. "I really hope you guys have a nice time tonight," Kurt said, hugging his dad first, hoping they both knew how much it meant to him and Blaine.
"Yeah, yeah, Carole will have to translate for me, I'm sure," Burt said, his voice rough, but there was a twinkle in his eye that made Kurt grin. "Don't burn the house down."
Burt went to retrieve the car keys and Carole leaned in to hug Kurt. "We hope you have a nice time too, sweetie," she said, pulling him close and dropping her voice. "Also, I bought a bottle of champagne while I was grocery shopping, and forgot that neither I or your father care much for it. How silly of me," she deadpanned, pulling back with a wink. "It's in the fridge. No one else knows it's there, so no one will miss it."
"Carole!" Kurt exclaimed, laughing a little. "You're too much."
Carole just shrugged, still smiling. "I don't know what you're talking about, Kurt. Just promise me no one drives, okay? Blaine stays here?"
Kurt nodded back, flustered. "Yeah, of course. No problem." He waved at her as she walked out to join his dad, and just shook his head. As much of a pain as it had been to convince everyone to go out, Kurt was really grateful for his family and how understanding they were. Especially compared to Blaine's family.
He'd just finished everything up when the doorbell rang, and he sighed. He had hoped Blaine wouldn't be early so he'd have time to clean up his mess before he arrived. He rinsed his hands quickly and wiped them on his apron before answering the door. "You're early," Kurt said, trying to scold, but his voice came out more amused.
"I am," Blaine said, grinning wildly as he walked in and pulled Kurt close at the waist. "You look adorable in your apron though, so I can't say I'm sorry about that."
Kurt just rolled his eyes as Blaine leaned in to kiss him, whispering happy anniversary just before he did. Kurt was thankful that he'd turned off all of the burners before Blaine arrived, because he had half a mind to keep kissing him and heat up the food later.
Kurt could count on one hand the number of times they'd actually had guaranteed uninterrupted alone time: the night after Nationals in Chicago, the two nights in Paul's apartment afterwards (which almost didn't count, because Paul was in the room next door, and a small, uncomfortable air mattress is the least romantic thing ever), one afternoon at the end of summer when Burt had dragged Carole off to the car show in Columbus, one night when Blaine's parents had gone to a wedding in Indiana and Blaine had feigned schoolwork to get out of it, the night of Rachel's Holiday Extravaganza, when her dads were gone and everyone had left and Rachel was passed out in the basement from too much wine. (Of course he remembered them all. Kurt Hummel was nothing if not thorough.)
They'd made a rule long ago - unless they had a good chunk of time when they knew for certain they'd be alone, clothes stayed on. It would be bad enough if a classmate caught them in Blaine's car, or Kurt's parents walked in on them in Kurt's room fully clothed. When they made the rule, however, they underestimated how limited that time would actually be (and how varied their parents’ work schedules were, not to mention the wildcard named Finn - Rachel could only help so much). Not that technically it was very different - but instead of rushed and hurried hands over too many layers of clothes, it was as if time stopped and no one else mattered but Blaine.
Blaine must have been thinking the same thing. "How much time do we have?" he whispered in between kisses, trying to untie Kurt's apron, probably to get his hands under Kurt's shirt.
Kurt broke away to look at his watch. "It's almost five. Finn will be out until after ten, my parents have a five-thirty reservation, and then they're going to a seven-fifteen showing of The 'burbs, which gets out a little after nine, I called the theater. So, they'll be back probably a little before Finn." The detailing of his family's plans had given Kurt enough time to get his head on straight, so he grabbed Blaine by the hand and led him into the kitchen. "Come on, dinner first," he said with a smirk.
"It smells wonderful, Kurt," Blaine said, casting an eye around the room. "Have I told you you're the best?"
"Not today," Kurt teased. "Chicken Marsala with mashed potatoes and green beans. Plus dessert. Can you set the table while I finish up?"
"Of course," Blaine replied, not hesitating to rummage through the drawers for plates and silverware, knowing where everything was by now. Kurt set to work cleaning the pots and pans so they'd have little cleanup after dinner, and just as he was done, he heard Blaine ask, "What do you want to drink?" Kurt looked over at him and saw two plastic tumblers in his hand.
"Oh," he said, wiping his hands on his apron for the last time and taking it off to hang on the hook by the refrigerator. "Carole bought us a present." He searched the back of the fridge, finally finding the bottle, and pulled it out to show Blaine. "Ta-da!" Kurt exclaimed, waving the bottle around a little.
"I love your family," Blaine blurted out quickly, and they both laughed.
"No driving though, so do you need to call your parents?" Kurt bit his lip, knowing that they'd probably have to come up with a cover story.
"Taken care of," Blaine replied, taking the bottle from Kurt and working on the cork. "I told them I was going to Rachel's to study for our Calc test tomorrow, and depending on how late we study, I might just stay there. They didn't question it."
Kurt giggled again. "They probably encourage that sort of thing. Hope you finally realize you're in love with girls after all."
Blaine finally worked out the cork, the champagne spilling over a little. He tried to catch most of it on his tongue, probably to prevent it spilling on the floor, but it put filthy images in Kurt's head, and he felt himself blushing. If Blaine noticed, he didn't say anything; he just sat the bottle down and grinned, kissing Kurt hard, Kurt tasting the champagne on his tongue. "Never," Blaine said, breaking away for a moment and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm only in love with you."
It was incredibly cheesy, and if Kurt had heard that line uttered in a movie, he'd have rolled his eyes and scoffed for good measure, but the fact that it was Blaine saying these things to him gave him a familiar warm fluttering in his stomach that just made him giddy.
Blaine went back to pouring the champagne into the tumblers - Kurt lamented for a moment that there were no champagne glasses in the house, but it was probably for the best, evidence-wise. "Besides, they won't stop talking about how nice Rachel's dad was at the invitational," Blaine said with mock surprise.
"I'm guessing you left out a tiny detail when you introduced them?" Kurt said as Blaine handed him his champagne.
Blaine shrugged. "Not mine to tell. Plus, they'd probably blame him since they thought all that time I was spending with you was spent with Rachel. I bought Rachel lunch today before I came here, so she and her dads will definitely cover if my mom calls."
Blaine winked and Kurt smiled fondly at the thought of Rachel and her family covering for them. Her dads had always looked out for them - they'd even told Blaine, via Rachel, that if they'd needed any sex advice or tips, they were there. However, they probably hadn't expected that Rachel would blurt it out to Blaine after a few wine coolers at the end of summer, in front of Finn and with very little tact. Kurt hadn't been able to look Rachel, her dads, or Finn in the eye for months.
"Alright, toast," Blaine said, raising his plastic cup a little. "You go, I'll be long-winded and over the top."
"You? Never," Kurt deadpanned. He'd never tell Blaine, but he kind of loved his long-winded and over the top cheesiness. "You just have to keep it simple, Blaine." Kurt paused for a moment to think.
"To us. To Chicago. To the next year and hopefully many more years to come. To ... everything," he finished simply, clinking their plastic cups together. He couldn't help but grin stupidly at Blaine as they sipped their champagne, still not quite believing that he'd been with this wonderful boy for a year. If someone had told him where he'd be today even just three hundred and sixty-six days ago, he wouldn't have believed them for a second. After he decided that they'd stared at each other for far too long, he walked over to the table, setting down his cup and picking up the two plates Blaine had set down. "Okay, come on, let's eat before it gets cold and I have to warm it up again."
>Blaine walked over to the table and topped off their champagne. "Let's try not to drink the whole bottle though, I want to remember tonight," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. The last time they were alone, at Rachel's party, they drank so much neither one of them could remember much after they'd gone upstairs. Blaine had a point.
They ate dinner quietly, just enjoying each other's company. The radio was playing softly in the background, Kurt smiling when Hold Me Now came on. You say I'm a dreamer, we're two of a kind, both of us searching for some perfect world we know we'll never find. They didn't talk about schoolwork, or the upcoming Regionals competition they were still sorely unprepared for, or their friends and families, just happy silence. Blaine did stop eating after every third bite to say how wonderful the food was and how lucky he was to have a boyfriend that cooked, but Kurt simply smiled, the champagne making him warm and fuzzy inside, Blaine making him warm and fuzzy inside.
Blaine offered to wash the remaining dishes while Kurt got dessert ready. When his dad and Carole were first married and they moved to the new house, he'd saved his mom's old fondue set from the Goodwill pile. His dad probably hadn't known, but whenever he was working late, Kurt and his mom would sit on pillows on the floor in the living room and have fondue for dinner out of her ceramic avocado green fondue pot. Kurt had kept it safe in his hope chest for all these years, never having a reason to use it. He'd probably tell Blaine the stories later, but he didn't want to ruin the mood tonight.
Kurt had given it a thorough cleaning and cut up fruit and pound cake earlier, so he only had to light the candle underneath the pot to melt the chocolate and wait. He set it up on the coffee table in the living room, figuring the couch would be much more comfortable than the dining room chairs, and headed back to the kitchen to help Blaine clean up.
"I still think we should be celebrating tomorrow," Kurt said as he wiped down the dining room table. They had already discussed this at length, whether the night they kissed was their actual anniversary or the day after was when they figured it all out. Blaine stuck by the fact that if Kurt hadn't left Rachel's party early that night, after they'd kissed, the twenty-seventh would be their anniversary, no question. Kurt had given in mainly because it was easier to get everyone out of the house on a Sunday as opposed to a Monday.
"So, we'll celebrate tomorrow too," Blaine replied, coming up behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around him. "That way we're both right." He kissed a sensitive spot on Kurt's neck, making him stop his cleaning to shiver. "It's clean enough in here, where's this dessert?"
The fondue was an excellent idea, to the point where Kurt suspected Blaine of purposefully getting chocolate on his mouth just so Kurt could help clean it off. He chuckled quietly when Blaine did it again, his eyes wide and innocent, but not fooling Kurt for a second. He gracefully wiped the corner of Blaine's mouth with his pointer finger and was going to clean it off with a paper towel, but Blaine grabbed his wrist to stop him and sucked Kurt's finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, licking off every last bit of chocolate. Kurt groaned, just barely, the noise stuck in his throat, a habit from trying to stay silent.
"Blaine," he whispered harshly. Kurt had never been so turned on, especially from something so simple. It felt like the nerves in his finger were hardwired everywhere else. He and Blaine had never sucked each other off before, but Kurt wanted so badly to do that for him, and for Blaine to do that for him, and by god, Blaine had to stop doing things to his fingers before Kurt came on the couch and they never made it upstairs. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, so even if they played it safe by switching to a parent-friendly activity at nine, there was no way they'd need three hours for this. Kurt had been ready since Blaine walked through the door.
He glanced at the half eaten plate of fruit & cake, and decided they'd had enough. Kurt pulled his hand away from Blaine's face, and Blaine began to protest, but Kurt just replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing him quickly before pulling back to say, "Blow the candle out. Let's go upstairs. We'll clean up later."
Blaine apparently didn't have to be asked twice, blowing it out in one breath and grabbing Kurt's hand to practically drag him up the stairs. After they were in Kurt's room, and Kurt had shut the door out of habit, Blaine, who'd never let go of his hand, pulled him up onto the bed.
"So," Blaine said quietly, as he straddled Kurt's lap and placed a kiss on his collarbone. "I've been a very bad boyfriend."
"Have you now?" Kurt replied, trying to keep his voice steady, but Blaine's thumb was already tracing circles around Kurt's nipple through his shirt - and Kurt had selected a lightweight shirt for cooking all day.
"Mmmmhmm," Blaine hummed against Kurt's neck. "I was rushing to leave Rachel's so I'd be here on time and I left your present at her house."
"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed loudly, causing Blaine to jump a little. "I thought we agreed no presents!"
"We did, but then you went and cooked that lovely dinner," Blaine replied, starting to unbutton Kurt's shirt, ignoring Kurt's protests about the presents. "It's just a little something I saw at the mall that made me think of you," he continued, speaking slowly and deliberately, pulling off his own sweater once Kurt's shirt was on the floor. "But it's probably for the best, what with you wanting to celebrate tomorrow and all."
"Yeah, see, it works out," Kurt replied breathlessly, wondering why the heck they were talking about this now, while he was trying to get at Blaine's jeans to unbutton them. Blaine just batted at his hands and went to work on the zipper on Kurt's pants, which - how was that fair?
Blaine just made a tsk tsk noise at Kurt as he pulled off Kurt's pants, leaving him only in his underwear. He finally stood up, shedding his own pants before resuming his previous position. "You didn't let me finish," he scolded, planting kisses up and down Kurt's stomach, which was making Kurt's toes curl just a little bit.
"As I was saying," he said, stopping the kisses only to talk, and still speaking slow enough to drive Kurt crazy, "I don't have your present with me, so I'm improvising."
Kurt didn't have time to process Blaine's words before Blaine was pulling his underwear down. As Blaine sunk his mouth over him, the first thought that popped into Kurt's head was that whatever Blaine had for him tomorrow would pale in comparison to this.
---
Kurt stirred a little when he heard the front door open. Blaine was slumped against him on the couch and the TV had turned to static. He smiled to himself, nuzzling back against Blaine and playing the events of the evening back in his head. After Blaine had finished with him, Kurt had returned the favor (which Blaine protested at first: 'It's not that I don't want you to, Kurt, it's just that it doesn't count as a present then!' 'Trust me, Blaine, it does.') and they laid in bed for a while, before Kurt had made them get up to take a shower. They'd come downstairs to resume cleaning up, and finished off the rest of the fondue and champagne while watching The Sting (Kurt would watch Redford and Newman any day), which was obviously now over.
He heard his dad and Carole whispering at the door, and when Carole flicked on a light, he closed his eyes tight to the brightness. "Aren't they precious, Burt," Carole said softly, Kurt trying to be still so they wouldn't wake him to go upstairs and leave Blaine on the couch.
"Shouldn't we wake up Blaine so he can go home?" Burt huffed. It had been a long night for him, so Kurt supposed he was allowed to be a little bit cranky.
"I told Kurt that Blaine could stay over," Carole said. Kurt opened one eye just a bit and saw her collecting their glasses to take to the sink.
"Why'd you do that?" Burt asked, his voice getting further away. Kurt assumed he must have followed her into the kitchen.
"Burt. They're going to be living together in less than six months, or did you forget? That they're going to college in another state and living together?" Kurt could hear the amusement in Carole's voice.
"Yeah, well. That's in six months."
"Burt, you're tired. Go get ready for bed, I'll be right there."
Kurt heard his father obey, trudging up the stairs and muttering under his breath, and a moment later he felt Carole shake his arm. "Boys, go on upstairs."
Kurt opened his eyes as Blaine pulled his head off Kurt's shoulder. "Mmmfph, couch?" Blaine asked, blearily.
Carole placed a quick kiss on each of their foreheads. "No, boys, just go up to bed, in Kurt's room, it's alright."
Instead of getting up, Blaine slumped against Kurt again. "Too tired. Can't move," he said, muffled against Kurt's shoulder.
"Blaine, I don't care if it is our anniversary," Kurt said, stifling a yawn. "I am not carrying you up the stairs."
March 21, 1989
"Kurt, what is your man doing?" Mercedes asked before taking a bite of pizza. She, Kurt, Finn, and Sam sat around a dingy plastic table at the roller rink while Blaine and Rachel skated around in circles, the only ones on the rink for 'couples skate' - which was ironic, because they weren't even a couple. Rachel had pestered Finn to skate with her, and he declined since there was no one else skating, and volunteered Blaine for the job.
Kurt was about to veto that idea, because if he couldn't skate with Blaine, why should Rachel get to, but then he saw Blaine's face light up and shooed them off. He blotted paper towels at his pizza, trying to get rid of the grease, and picked off the all the pepperoni to put on Finn's plate. Blaine lost the right to his leftovers since he was too busy skating with Rachel Berry.
"That's his theme park face," Kurt said, remembering Blaine's expressions when he went to visit him at Six Flags over the summer. Kurt thought he was insane at the time (and of course, was kind of hurt that they wouldn't get to spend every second together during their time off), but seeing Blaine up on that stage for the first time changed Kurt's mind. Especially since Mr. Schue - perhaps unconsciously to avoid drama – had severely decreased the amount of solos Blaine received since the school year started. They hadn't discussed it, but Kurt always saw Blaine's face fall just a teeny bit when duets were given to Rachel and Finn, or Santana and Puck, or even Mercedes and Sam (who had killed it at Regionals with a surprisingly wonderful duet of To Be With You). It wasn't enough to where anyone else had even noticed - but Kurt was used to being pushed to the background. It might actually be worse for Blaine since he knew what it was like on the other side.
Kurt watched the duo skate around in circles, belting their hearts out to Sonny and Cher. Don't let them say your hair's too long, 'cause I don't care, with you I can't go wrong. Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine was lucky he was secure enough in their relationship now to not have to actually worry about Rachel Berry any longer. Only the two of them could get away with a song this cheesy.
But as he watched, it was evident to him how much Blaine missed performing. Sure, they would sing along to the radio together, and they'd worn out just about every Christmas song ever written during December, but they'd never actually had the chance to perform together. Mr. Schue had skipped a duets competition this year, and Kurt really wondered if he was avoiding the drama yet again. Kurt decided he should be a good boyfriend and encourage Blaine to perform with Rachel more - they only had three months of school left, after all.
The song ended, and a few people at the next table over clapped for Blaine and Rachel. Their table joined in, Kurt whistling as they stepped off the rink. "Hey," Blaine said, sitting down next to Kurt and nudging their shoulders together, just barely. "What did we miss?"
"Flat sodas and bad pizza," Kurt replied, tipping his glass towards Blaine before taking a sip.
"Hey, I think the pizza's awesome!" Sam protested, and Finn nodded, mouth full, and high-fived him.
Kurt turned to Blaine and gave him a look. "You probably will like the pizza." Rachel sat down next to Finn and didn't hesitate to launch into a story about what happened in Physics class last Friday. Kurt was in Physics with her, so he tuned her out and continued to talk to Blaine. "You looked really happy out there. You should sing with Rachel more often."
Blaine had just taken a bite out of his pizza and chewed thoughtfully before answering. "I'd only be happier if I was out there with you." He smiled, and slipped his hand under the table to rub at Kurt's knee. He was probably getting pizza grease all over Kurt's new jeans, but Kurt just let him and returned the smile.
---
After eating, Blaine and Kurt sneaked off to the arcade, where Blaine put far too much money in Pacman as Kurt watched, and then spent all of his tickets on glow necklaces for everyone. When they got back to the rink, Blaine was wearing three of them himself. Rachel even convinced Finn to put one on.
The rink was fairly empty for an afternoon during spring break, and when With or Without You came on, Kurt chuckled to himself. Blaine had just about worn out his copy of The Joshua Tree over the summer. They were just about the only ones on the rink, Finn and Rachel skating with linked arms and Sam and Mercedes holding hands. Kurt was skating slowly by the railing - skating was never his strong suit, ice or roller. He thought far too much about looking ridiculous and therefore was prone to falling. Blaine skated in front of him, turning around so he was skating backwards and facing Kurt. He held out his hands. "Skate with me," he said quietly, hopefully. Kurt looked around for a moment before Blaine added, "Come on, I just don't want you to fall again." He winked, and Kurt took his hands, letting Blaine pull him along.
Blaine sang softly under his breath, so only Kurt could hear. Through the storm we reach the shore,
you give it all but I want more and I'm waiting for you … I can't live with or without you. Kurt ducked his head and blushed a little, and Blaine just grinned wildly at him. "You're a much better skating partner than Rachel," he whispered, and Kurt had to roll his eyes. Finn was better at rollerskating than he was. He didn't hesitate to tell Blaine that. "Yeah, but last I checked, he also wasn't you."
May 9, 1989
It was the first day back at school after Nationals. While third place was still something to be proud of, it had left everyone feeling a little dejected, especially since it was the last competition for most of New Directions. Blaine felt bad that Kurt was taking it personally. He had sung the lead for their final number, Prince’s Purple Rain, complete with eleven purple sequined backups. The lunch table was quiet and subdued, everyone picking at their food and not saying much. Rachel hadn’t helped when she mentioned at least they still had prom to look forward to in a week and a half – that had officially put Kurt in a bad mood. He glared at Rachel, excused himself, and spent the rest of the lunch period in the library, explicitly telling them that no one needed to follow. Blaine just shot Rachel an apologetic glance.
Prom was a sore subject with Kurt. McKinley wasn't allowing two people of the same gender to attend together, nor were they letting people attend without dates. Rachel and Mercedes tried to invent a crazy scheme in which Finn and Sam attended with other girls (that they'd never actually picked out, it was all very arbitrary) and they attended with Kurt and Blaine. Kurt was skeptical from the start, but it kept getting more and more involved and complicated in order for it to work and finally Kurt blew up at Rachel in the school parking lot, saying that he and Blaine weren't going and for Rachel and Mercedes to go with their boyfriends - like they should.
Kurt shooed the three of them away and got in his car quickly, saying he wanted to be alone again - forgetting he'd picked Blaine up that morning. Even though Kurt wanted to be alone, Blaine didn't want to be all by himself (or at least, at home with his parents), so he went home with Rachel for dinner. They sat in her living room while her dads cooked, working on an extra credit project for Economics. More accurately, Blaine helped Rachel, even though he was pretty sure both of them had As in the class.
Blaine scanned the day's newspaper, looking for anything that would relate to anything they had discussed in class. "I couldn’t care less about going, you know? I just feel so bad for Kurt. I wish there was something more I could do - I know, you ladies gave a valiant effort," Blaine added when Rachel's mouth dropped wide open to protest. "I just think at this point I need to figure out something else for us to do that day, something to take our minds off the whole thing."
Rachel pursed her lips as she used a glue stick to affix an article about President Reagan and the increased national debt to her posterboard. "You mean, go do something special, just the two of you? Kurt would like that." She paused to cut out the rest of the article from the newspaper and stopped mid-cut, looking up at him intently. "Ooooh! The two of you should go to Columbus for the weekend! There has to be something playing at the theater then. Daddy!" she called out towards the kitchen. Mr. Berry stopped what he was doing and walked out into the living room.
"Yes?" he asked, casting an amused glance around the room at their strewn papers and art supplies. Blaine quickly grabbed the glitter glue from Rachel and put the cap back on so none would end up on the furniture.
"What's playing at the Ohio Theatre this month? Since Blaine and Kurt can't go to prom, and Blaine wants to do something for Kurt so he doesn’t obsess over it, I was suggesting they could go down to Columbus for the day." She gave him a smile and then went back to clipping the newspaper articles.
"I think Les Miserables starts the nineteenth. We have tickets for the three of us for the Saturday after prom, so it should have started up by then." He walked over to grab a wastebasket from the bathroom and set it next to Rachel for the clippings she was discarding. Rachel must not have known about the tickets, because her face lit up and her father squeezed her shoulder. "Would you boys be able to afford that though, Blaine? Columbus is two hours away and you'd probably have to get a hotel room for the night."
Blaine thought for a moment. Les Miserables. Kurt would love that. It would be perfect. "Yeah, we both have some money saved up for college in our savings accounts, and I figured I'd have to spend some money that weekend whether or not we went to prom or not ... do you think they still have tickets left?" Blaine asked, setting the newspaper down, the wheels turning in his head. He wondered if Kurt's parents would let him go. He wondered if he could get away with telling his parents he was just going to prom. Probably not. He snapped out of his own thoughts and realized Mr. Berry was no longer standing in front of him. Blaine turned around and saw him rummaging in a basket next to the phone.
"A-ha!" he said, pulling out a card and motioning for Blaine to come over. "Here, I have their number, you can call now."
Mr. Berry had been right, Les Mis was playing the night of prom and tickets were still available. The only problem – the only way you could buy tickets was over the phone with a credit card or in person. Blaine didn’t have a credit card, and he knew that his parents wouldn’t lend him theirs. “Well,” he started, thinking out loud after he’d told the Berrys what the woman on the phone had said. “It’s not that far of a drive. I could always go down this Saturday, early enough so I wouldn’t be driving at night or anything. I’m sure they wouldn’t sell out between now and then, and I could always call before I go just to make sure.”
“Blaine, it’s a four hour drive roundtrip. I know you want to surprise Kurt, but you really shouldn’t make that drive alone,” Rachel pointed out.
They all sat in silence for a moment, Leroy still working on dinner and exchanging a look with Mr. Berry before addressing Blaine. “We could always order the tickets for you, Blaine. You could give the money to Rachel at school tomorrow or Thursday, whenever you have time to get to the bank.”
Blaine blinked at them for a moment. “Are you sure? It’s not that big a deal for me to drive –“
---
Blaine sat in his Caprice in the Berrys’ driveway, folding up the piece of paper Mr. Berry had given him with the order number, total, and phone number and address of the Ohio Theatre on it. He slipped the paper in the side pocket of his wallet so it wouldn’t get lost, even though the woman on the phone assured Mr. Berry it would be no problem for Blaine to pick up the tickets. Blaine was grateful for their generosity – sure, he hadn’t wanted to make the drive, but he would have, because he really and truly wanted Kurt to have a nice day and forget about the stupid prom.
It occurred to him after the tickets were already bought that he probably should have checked with Burt first. He decided to make a pit stop on the way home, knowing either Burt or Carole would probably answer the door since Kurt would probably still be up in his room sulking. He tried to put on his best smile when Burt opened the door.
“Blaine,” Burt said, a little surprised. “Does … does Kurt know you’re coming?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you.” Blaine kept smiling, but it didn’t stop Burt from looking suspicious.
They walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Carole was busy putting dishes away. “Blaine, honey, have you already eaten?” she asked when she saw him.
“Yeah, I ate dinner at Rachel’s. I was just wondering if I could ask you guys something.” Carole stopped what she was doing and sat down at the table with them. Blaine took a deep breath and started the speech he’d composed on the drive over. “I’m guessing you already know, but Kurt is really upset about losing Nationals. Plus, he’s really upset we can’t go to prom. I don’t really care either way, but I care that he cares so …”
Burt was looking at him with a yeah, what’s the point of this expression, so Blaine figured he should cut right to the chase. “I was trying to figure out what we could do, you know, in place of prom, and the Ohio Theatre in Columbus has Les Miserables playing that night and I went ahead and got tickets. I didn’t realize it was an eight o’clock show, so if we drive back after it’s over, it’ll be after curfew, and I thought I should check. I know you don’t like us driving that late at night, but we’ll take Kurt’s car and he can drive back since he’s a better driver...”
Carole and Burt stared at each other just long enough to make Blaine feel uncomfortable about the whole thing. “You’re right, I don’t like the idea of you two driving that far that late at night,” Burt finally said.
“Right,” Blaine said, stupidly, trying to figure out how to make it work.
They sat in silence for another few minutes, Burt and Carole obviously having a silent conversation, so Blaine averted his gaze and stared at the table. “Right,” Burt finally said with a large sigh. “Here’s what we’ll do. When I get to work tomorrow, I’ll look through my AAA guidebooks and book you a hotel room for the night. A hotel that’s in a safe area and close to the theater. You boys will be responsible for paying everything when you check out. You’ll call when you get to Columbus and before you drive home the next morning so Carole doesn’t worry and you won’t do anything stupid. Got it?”
Blaine’s eyes grew wide and his words were flustered. “Of course, nothing stupid, and we’ll call both days, and thank you so much Mr. – I mean, Burt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Burt replied. Blaine could tell he was trying not to smile. “Well, go up and tell him so maybe he’ll stop moping around here.”
Blaine went up to Kurt’s room and tapped out the beat to I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues with his hands on the closed door. He was going to start singing when Kurt finally came to the door, but when it was opened, Kurt had quite the unamused look on his face. “Blaine, what are you doing here?”
“I have a little surprise,” Blaine said, motioning for Kurt to let him in. They both perched on the end of the bed. “So, it is safe to assume that you still don’t have plans for next Saturday night? No lovely lady has called to ask you to prom?”
Probably not the best way to start out. Kurt shot Blaine a look that could kill. “No, Blaine,” he responded, practically seething. “There have been no suitors at my beck and call in the last four hours.”
“Well, good, because you have plans now,” Blaine replied, swinging his arm around Kurt and pulling him close. “We are now going to Columbus for the night and seeing Les Miserables at the Ohio Theatre.”
Kurt’s jaw dropped. “But – Blaine we can’t just – there’s no way my dad will let us – your parents won’t –“
“The tickets are already bought and your father, of all people, was the one who suggested staying the night. He’s personally booking us a hotel room tomorrow.” Blaine couldn’t help grinning wildly at Kurt. “And I’ll take care of my parents.” He hadn’t worked that part out yet, but he would.
“Blaine!” he exclaimed, turning to cup Blaine’s face and kiss him. “You really went to all this trouble?”
Blaine smiled against Kurt’s lips. “No trouble at all.”
Kurt was running around his room frantically. Blaine would arrive in fifteen minutes and the two of them would set off for their anti-prom in Columbus. He’d spent all week picking out his outfit for the show that night, so he only needed another outfit for the next day, when they’d drive home – how was this so difficult? His stomach buzzed with nervous excitement. Sure, he and Blaine had been on school trips with New Directions overnight and stayed in Chicago with Paul, but this was the first time they’d really traveled alone, and Kurt just wanted it all to be as smooth as possible.
While he was staring at his closet, there was a light knock on Kurt’s open door, startling him. He jumped a few feet and turned – Finn. “Is there anything you need help with?” Finn asked.
“No, thanks though,” he said, finally grabbing a pair of jeans and a Benneton sweatshirt that he’d borrowed from Blaine and ‘forgotten’ to return, throwing them in his leather suitcase. “Just promise me you’ll make sure Rachel takes lots of pictures tonight, okay Finn?”
Finn nodded, staring at Kurt’s suitcase, like he was trying to work up the guts to tell Kurt something. “It sucks you can’t go with us,” he finally said.
He was touched that Finn would actually feel that way. “It does, but we’ll have a great time regardless, and I think you guys will have a better time without us there. You shouldn’t worry, honestly.” Kurt knew that if they had gone it would have been an endless barrage of insults and whispers, and Finn would get mad and misplace his anger, and they’d probably all get kicked out. He’d been annoyed before, but everything really was working out for the best.
Kurt snapped his suitcase shut just as he heard the doorbell ring, and smirked at his perfect timing. He carried his suitcase down the stairs, Finn trailing behind. Carole was already ushering Blaine in, her own camera in hand. “Boys, I want to take a picture of the two of you before you leave!”
“Carole!” Kurt exclaimed. “I’m not in picture taking clothes. I’m in clothes for a two hour drive. I’ll find someone to do it tonight, I promise.” He actually did hope he’d be able to find someone willing to take their picture when he and Blaine were dressed up.
“Here, Finn can stand with you, so it’ll just be a picture of my three boys,” Carole protested, pushing Finn in their direction. Blaine’s eyes met Kurt’s just as Carole said my three boys and Kurt couldn’t help but smile. They posed for a few pictures in front of the fireplace, Blaine on Kurt’s right and Finn on his left as if it were a school picture of descending height. Carole finally set down the camera and came over to hug both of them. “You boys have a wonderful time tonight, okay?” Her eyes seemed a little misty when Kurt looked at her, but she blinked the tears away, and he wondered how she’d be later when Rachel showed up.
“Mom! They won’t even be gone twenty-four hours!” Finn said, laughing. He stopped when she eyed him, giving him a look that only she could get away with (Kurt had tried to replicate it on multiple occasions to no avail) and told him to go get Burt to say goodbye so the boys could leave.
The drive was thankfully uneventful, with Kurt driving and Blaine navigating the map. Blaine had also been in charge of the radio, searching for stations in between Lima and Columbus. Kurt had indulged him a bit, singing along to Toto’s Africa. It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had. Blaine, of course, sang along to every song he knew – which was most of them.
When they arrived in Columbus, they had no trouble finding the hotel or getting checked in. They opened the door to their room and found that it was much nicer than the one they’d shared with Finn on both trips to Nationals, with two queen beds and a large bathtub. Kurt pulled the luggage racks out of the closet and set his suitcase on one. He grabbed a wooden hanger from the closet to hang his suit – he’d been waiting for just the opportunity to wear it, the jacket double breasted with just the right amount of shoulder padding.
He looked at his watch. It was just after four and the show didn’t start until eight. Kurt was thinking a shower would be nice, or since there was that lovely tub, maybe a quick bath. He wondered if there was a tiny bottle of bubble bath provided. He certainly didn’t bring any.
In all of his unpacking, Kurt didn't notice Blaine sitting on the edge of one of the beds. He looked sad or nervous or some sort of emotion that he definitely should not be. Kurt walked over to him, wrapping his arms around hi] shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. “Hey,” he said quietly, “what’s wrong?”
“I just want everything to be perfect,” Blaine whispered, trailing a finger down the buttons on Kurt’s shirt.
Kurt rolled his head to the side and smiled. He understood where Blaine was coming from - he’d had the same thoughts earlier. “Perfection is overrated,” he joked.
“Good, because I’m far from perfect,” Blaine said, laughing.
Kurt pulled a face to let him know that was entirely untrue. “Seriously, what are you worried about?” Kurt asked, tangling his fingers in Blaine’s hair. “I can pretty much guarantee something will happen to make tonight not perfect, but that doesn’t make it any less special.”
Blaine frowned a little. “I love you, Kurt.”
"You could have fooled me from the look on your face."
The corners of Blaine's mouth finally turned up at that. "What would be your perfect plans for tonight?" he finally asked.
Kurt thought for a moment. "Well, I was about to go take a shower, or maybe a bath since there's that nice tub, and then get ready. I saw a cute little Italian place on the corner that looks nicer than Breadstix, so that’s a plus. We could do that for dinner? And then the show and back here? Why?"
Blaine shrugged. "I just wanted to see where your head was."
Kurt eyed him cautiously, knowing he wasn't getting the full story. "Okay, so what would be your perfect plans for tonight then?"
Blaine kissed him then, their lips lightly touching. "The same," he finally said. "Though I was hoping when we came back here ..." Blaine ran his hands down Kurt's bare arms and looked up at him hopefully.
"Oh," Kurt said, blushing. "I figured that was a given." They'd been blessed with more alone time in the past few months - probably because Blaine had finally convinced Kurt to bend the rules a little on their self-imposed 'clothes on unless we're absolutely alone' idea, and there was mutual scheming with Rachel to get Finn out of the house when Burt and Carole were out as well.
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Kurt was about to say something else to break the silence and the intent way Blaine was staring at him when Blaine finally blurted out, "Kurt, I really want to have sex tonight."
Well, then. Kurt's eyes widened and before he could speak, Blaine continued.
"It has nothing to do with it being prom night, even though we aren't even going to prom. I've been thinking about it for a while and this is just the first night we've had alone, you know?" Blaine paused to catch a breath. "I love you Kurt, and I know we haven't talked a lot about it, and if you're not ready, we don't have to, and not that what we’ve done isn’t sex, but I brought everything we'd need -"
"Okay," Kurt said, cutting him off. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but I love you too. So, okay."
Blaine kissed him again, harder and more enthusiastically this time. "I sort of know what I'm doing," he admitted. "I talked to Ms. Pillsbury back in December and she gave me these pamphlets ..."
Kurt groaned. He knew those pamphlets all too well. Ms. Pillsbury had mailed a set to Kurt's father just before Christmas. He had thought it was a tad suspicious that she mailed them just out of blue, but now he knew he had Blaine to thank for the awkward dining room conversation they shared. "You have more faith in those pamphlets than I do."
---
Kurt couldn't help but smile as they left the little Italian restaurant around the corner from the theater. Blaine leaned into Kurt, grinning and bumping their shoulders together. Blaine looked wonderful in his suit, and Kurt wished they had excuses to dress up more often. Maybe in Chicago they could get away with wearing nice things to dinner - Breadstix certainly was a more casual affair.
Kurt hung back while Blaine went to the window to pick up the tickets. He had taken a picture of the restaurant, and took some of the theater, making Blaine pose for a few when he got back. He was about to slip the camera back into his jacket pocket when Blaine shook his head and grabbed the camera from him, ushering Kurt over to where he had been standing to snap a few of him.
Blaine was winding the camera as Kurt walked back over. They were early enough that the space outside the theater wasn't crowded with patrons yet. Kurt was slipping the camera back in his pocket when an older man, probably his dad's age, started toward them. Kurt stiffened involuntarily, even though the man wore a smile. An even older woman waited by the door and watched as he walked over.
"I don't mean to bother you boys, but would you like me to take a picture of the two of you?" the gentleman said kindly. "I promise I won't run off with your camera."
Kurt and Blaine stared at him for a moment, both coming to the same conclusion. Kurt pulled out the camera and thanked the man, who snapped two photos of them before apologizing that he had to get back to his mother. He winked at them, knowingly, and told them to have a good time.
Blaine reached over to squeeze Kurt's hand as the man left. "This is going to sound stupid," Blaine said, "but I hope he's as happy as us."
---
They entered the elevator, still giddy from the performance. When no other hotel guests followed them in, Blaine reached for Kurt's hand just as the doors were closing. His other hand gripped Kurt's waist and he began to twirl him. Kurt was about to protest that there was no music (apparently, the elevator music was broken), when Blaine began to sing.
"In my life I'm no longer alone, now the love of my life is so near," Blaine sang softly in Kurt's ear.
Kurt knew Blaine was trying to be romantic, he knew - but he couldn't help himself from bursting into laughter. Blaine pretended to look hurt. "Blaine Anderson!" Kurt exclaimed between laughs. "Two things. One, you are the cheesiest person I know."
Blaine pouted and Kurt took the opportunity to kiss him since they were finally alone - albeit in an elevator. "Two," Kurt continued after breaking the kiss, "it's a good thing Rachel is over a hundred miles away, she claimed all Cosette songs for herself."
"Who can we be then?" Blaine asked, twirling Kurt one last time.
The elevator opened with a ding, and they stepped out into the hall. "Well, you'd be Marius, of course, and I'd be Éponine," Kurt whispered as they walked down the hallway to their room, not wanting to disturb anyone.
"Éponine gets shot though," Blaine pointed out, frowning and fiddling with unlocking the door.
"After she has the best solo," Kurt countered, walking into the room with a dismissive handwave. He had just slipped off his dress shoes and socks, placing them neatly in his suitcase, when Blaine came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder.
"Hi," Blaine said, as Kurt relaxed against him. "Did you still want that bath?"
Kurt had opted for a shower earlier instead of a bath, not wanting to waste too much time getting ready after his lengthy chat with Blaine. That actually sounds amazing," he said, turning in Blaine's arms. "Are you going to join me?" The tub was definitely large enough for both of them.
After their suits were hung up and the tub was filled with bubbles from the complimentary bubble bath, Kurt sank into the warm water. When he came up for air and pushed his hair back, Blaine asked, "So, can I join you yet?”
Kurt glanced at him. They'd been naked together before, sure, but in darkness, with only the aid of candles or bedside lamps. This was the first time he'd really been able to look, and as unsexy as fluorescent lighting was, Kurt was quite turned on by getting to finally see his boyfriend like this. "I was enjoying the view," he commented, but moved over to the far end of the tub so Blaine could get in. He stepped in tentatively, the water a tad too hot for his liking, but Kurt knew it would cool quickly with two people in the tub.
"Here, dunk your head. I'll wash the gel out of your hair." Kurt reached over Blaine to grab the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner. He'd brought his own, but had forgotten to get them from the suitcase earlier when he took a shower, so these would have to do.
Blaine turned around and nestled against Kurt so he could reach his head. The way they were sitting meant that Kurt's erection was pressed up against Blaine's back, but he didn't say anything, just hummed happily as Kurt worked the shampoo into his hair. Kurt took his time, working his fingers up and down Blaine's scalp. "You should always wash my hair," Blaine said with a sigh. All the gel he used gave Kurt the perfect opportunity to really massage the shampoo in, his fingers slipping through Blaine’s curls as they worked themselves free. It was scented like grapefruit and lemon and something just a tad bit herbal, just like the bubble bath, and Kurt wondered if he’d be able to sneak an extra bottle off the maid’s cart in the morning so he could remember the scent.
Kurt instructed Blaine to cover his eyes while he cupped water in his hands and dumped it over his head. He wasn’t sure how clean Blaine’s hair was actually getting with the bubbles, but it would do for now. He followed up with conditioner, not working it in quite as much, and then Blaine asked if he could wash his, too. Kurt hesitantly agreed – he took a serious approach to hair and skincare – but was glad he did. He leaned back against Blaine, understanding Blaine’s earlier comment – they definitely had to do this again. He could fall asleep any moment - if it weren’t for Blaine’s own hard-on pressed up against him and the promises of more later.
“Way better than prom, right?” Blaine whispered in Kurt’s ear when he was done, just as the water began to cool.
Kurt had to agree.
Blaine knocked softly on Kurt’s door. Kurt didn’t know he was coming; the plan was to meet at the graduation ceremony itself. Blaine had convinced his parents he’d left the tie he wanted to wear at Kurt’s house, and he’d meet them and Paul there (in reality, he'd just folded it and put it in his pocket). Kurt flung the door open, ranting away before he saw who it was. “Finn, for the last time, I don’t know where your cap – oh,” he trailed off, his face softening when he saw Blaine instead, graduation robe folded over his arm and tie hanging loose around his neck.
“I was wondering if you’d tie my tie for me?” Blaine asked, slowly, playfully, before stepping inside. “You always do it so much better than I do.”
Kurt narrowed his eyes a bit at Blaine. “I’ve taught you, you just don’t want to learn. I have half a mind you’re being stubborn so I have to do it all the time for you.” Kurt's words were harsh, but his eyes were twinkling and Blaine knew he didn't really mind.
Still, Blaine bit his lip at being called out on what he thought was a solid plan to make Kurt tie his ties forever. There was something strangely intimate about it that he loved: the way Kurt’s fingers worked swiftly under his collar, tying the perfect knot, under and over and under. “Button your top button,” Kurt said, pulling his tie tight and straightening the knot. “That’s all anyone will get to see under these polyester navy monstrosities.” Kurt smoothed out Blaine’s shirt with his hands, over his shoulders. “Will this cause trouble?” he asked quietly, picking a bit of lint off Blaine’s shirt.
Blaine just shrugged. His parents had finally caught on to the fact that Kurt was going to college in Chicago as well and were less than thrilled with the idea (which really just translated to a lot of quiet and awkward moments around the Anderson household). Luckily, they hadn’t asked where he’d be living. “Carole mentioned Rachel and I should come over early for family pictures when we were sitting around after dinner last night, so you know. Worth it.” Carole had cooked dinner last night for ten, asking Kurt and Finn to invite some friends over for a little graduation celebration. Sam, Mercedes, Tina, and Mike, along with Blaine and Rachel, were the ones that had showed. "Though I'm not quite sure I'm family," he added as an afterthought.
“Of course you’re family,” Kurt replied, as if there was any doubt. Blaine’s heart swelled that Carole thought of him that way. He loved this wonderful family of his, the one that had been thrown together over the last two years, Blaine being the final piece. He half-included Rachel, even though she had bigger dreams of New York, dreams that didn’t include Finn. That was how he and Kurt were different than Rachel and Finn – they had dreams, of course, dreams of leaving Lima, but those dreams always included each other.
Burt had told Blaine once that he didn’t worry about the two of them. They knew how to compromise and work things out, something Burt himself hadn’t learned until Kurt was born. Even if Kurt hadn’t gotten in to the University of Chicago – they would have worked it out.
Kurt walked over to the mirror to tie his own bow tie, a classic plaid of blues and greens to offset the navy. Blaine walked over and hooked his head over Kurt’s shoulder to watch in the mirror. “I like that tie. You look amazing.”
“It’s graduation, Blaine. You have to go for something timeless. It’s not like I was going to wear that neon turtleneck corset fiasco we saw at the mall,” Kurt replied, stifling a giggle.
“First of all, those were two separate pieces. It was a neon yellow turtleneck under a bright pink corset in the store window.” Blaine pointed out, wrapping his hands around Kurt’s waist, even though he knew Kurt would scold him for wrinkling his shirt. “Secondly, you’d look amazing no matter what you wore.”
Kurt clucked at him and pushed him off to straighten his clothes. “So, you’re saying all of your compliments on my wardrobe mean nothing now?” Kurt just rolled his eyes as Blaine backed away, laughing. Kurt’s stony expression didn’t last long before it broke and he joined in.
“What will you miss the most about high school, do you think?” Kurt finally asked seriously, once their laughing fit was over.
“Nothing,” Blaine answered. Kurt looked at him skeptically, opening his mouth probably to tell him he was avoiding the question, but Blaine cut him off by reaching out to pull him close again. “Everything I loved most about high school is in this house right now.”
Kurt walked into Blaine’s room, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He was there to pick up Blaine for Mercedes's party, the last time all of New Directions would be in the same place at the same time before everyone went their separate ways. Blaine's head was on his mother's ironing board and Paul was standing over him ironing his head. Or rather, his hair. But still. Love Shack was playing in the background, Paul humming along. Blaine was tapping his feet and singing along, probably because he couldn’t resist. "What is Paul doing to you, Blaine?" he asked, an amused tone to his voice.
"He's straightening my hair!" Blaine replied matter of factly, smiling.
Kurt couldn't resist. He pulled his camera out of his pocket and snapped a picture. "Hey!" Blaine screeched, and then yelped again when Paul apparently burned his ear.
"Dude, don't move," Paul protested and Kurt just chuckled. He was almost scared to be living with these two come next month.
"This is payback from that picture you stole from my dad. The one from sixth grade Halloween,” Kurt replied, shaking his head and winding the camera.
"You made an adorable British rocker with the white stripe," Blaine said, humming at the memory.
"No one knew what I was supposed to be, since Ohio is eternally behind," Kurt replied, pouting a bit. It had been his favorite costume, his dad had even helped him get the perfect white paint. His twelve year old self just hated having to explain who Adam Ant was all night.
"Alright, all done!" Paul proclaimed, stepping back to admire his work.
Blaine jumped up and walked over to Kurt, spinning around. "How do I look?"
Kurt just smirked at him. "Ridiculous," he said, reaching up to touch Blaine's hair, stiff with some sort of product. It was sticking out in various directions, and parts of it were lighter - did Paul actually douse him with lemons? Kurt didn't want to know. "I love you anyway,” Kurt whispered, sneaking a quick kiss, not really caring if Paul was watching. "Now stand next to your brother so I have photographic proof of who to blame when your hair is fried and we have to cut it all off."
---
They arrived at Mercedes's house a little early, too early to go in, so they sat in Blaine's Caprice for a few minutes, waiting. They were selling this car, since they wouldn’t need two in Chicago and Kurt's ’84 AMC CJ7, was newer and in much better condition. "It's weird," Kurt finally said, breaking the silence. "We may never see some of them again."
Most of New Directions was staying in Ohio. Some were staying in Lima, some were headed to Columbus or Cincinnati. Finn had picked up a football scholarship to Indiana, and Rachel was headed off to NYU, but they were the only ones leaving the state.
“We’ll see the important ones,” Blaine said, thinking of the extended offer to visit Rachel in New York, and they'd never be able to get rid of Finn, of course, since he was family. He knew Kurt and Mercedes wouldn't lose touch anytime soon.
"You're the most important one to me," Kurt said, reaching over the console to grab his hand.
Blaine laughed a little. "Am I rubbing off on you? Is Kurt Hummel actually telling me cheesy things?"
Kurt just shrugged and ran his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. He was right, though. In two weeks, they'd be in Chicago, just the two of them - no parents, no friends, just them (and Paul, he supposed). It was scary and exciting and wonderful all at the same time.
Blaine grinned and pulled up their hands so he could kiss the back of Kurt's. "You're always the most important one to me. Now, let's go."
They got out of the car and Blaine offered his arm to Kurt. Kurt linked his through it and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, because really, what was anyone going to do at this point? They'd been the only couple to survive McKinley High. They were the only ones who had planned their futures together. They were the only ones who had a future together.
Maybe in a few years things would be easier for them. It might take five, or ten, or twenty, but Kurt only had one wish: for Blaine to still be by his side so they could appreciate it together.
---
I Want To Know What Love Is - Foreigner
Hold Me Now - Thompson Twins
To Be With You - Mr. Big
I Got You Babe - Sonny & Cher
With or Without You - U2
Purple Rain - Prince
I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues - Elton John
Africa - Toto
Love Shack - B52s
Also, please check out artsnletter's art for this fic here!!
