Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You should talk to him. He and Finn are having a graduation party, you know.”

The voice made Blaine jump out of his skin, and he slammed his locker shut to find Rachel Berry standing there, arms folded across her chest and looking at him curiously. 

Shit. He had been staring again.

“I-I can’t,” Blaine stammered, heat flushing up his face as he tore his eyes away from where he was looking - where he had just passed by, flanked by Cheerios as always.

“You were best friends, Blaine,” Rachel frowned. “You were inseparable! I mean, don’t you want to know what happened? It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him, did you ever think of that? Maybe if you showed up at the party he would-”

“I’m not going. I’m not talking to Kurt,” Blaine snapped, instantly regretting his tone as a shock of hurt fell over Rachel’s face. “I-I’m sorry, I just… It’s been all year. We’re about to graduate, and then I’ll probably never see him again. It’s too late.”

Rachel reached out to touch his elbow, shaking her head sadly.

“I don’t know, though. Doesn’t the fact that we are all about to graduate make you want to- try one more time?”

Blaine let out a long, deflating sigh, looking down at his shoes and avoiding her eyes.

“I need to get home.”

Blaine dreaded every second of his ten minute commute because of one street, one block, one house - Kurt’s.

Driving past Kurt’s house hurt every single time.

It was like Blaine couldn’t breathe whenever he passed it - the yard where he used to have tea parties, the house where he used to have sleepovers, the windows he used to peer out of in search of the ice cream truck.

He didn’t even understand why it hurt so badly, but it did, even months later.

It didn’t help that he had to pass by every single day on the way to and from school, but there was no alternative. Kurt’s house was just right there, a fact that he used to love. 

He hated it now.

But of course, it was just one peripheral sighting of Kurt among many in Blaine’s daily routine, just one glimpse at the way his life used to be, at the way it should have still been. Kurt was everywhere, whether Blaine liked it or not. He was in the hallways at McKinley, suddenly propelled to the top of the heap by his new Cheerios uniform, and it was like he was around every corner, no matter how hard Blaine tried to avoid him.

It wasn’t like Blaine didn’t always end up staring at him, anyways.

He just wanted to know, to understand what he did wrong to make Kurt stop talking to him and try to fix it.

Kurt was his best friend - no, something deeper. Starting out his senior year without Kurt by his side felt like Blaine was missing a limb, and he was getting weird looks from everyone because no one was used to seeing Blaine without Kurt or Kurt without Blaine, not since second grade.

But then the summer came, and Kurt faded out of Blaine’s life right before his very eyes, like water through his fingers.

Blaine knew it was his fault, even if he didn’t fully understand why.

The summer before senior year was supposed to be their time, their last summer within the safe confines of school years, their last summer before being thrown to the wolves of college and reality and - hopefully - New York. It was supposed to be their summer to plan for their futures, to revel in the nostalgia of their younger years, to spend time together and be spontaneous and spend time with Kurt’s family and the rest of it.

And then Blaine met Jeremiah.

“Kurt! Guess what!” Blaine announced, excitedly bursting into Kurt’s bedroom. 

Kurt startled from where he was laying on his bed, thumbing through the latest copy of Vogue.

“Wait, what are you doing here? It’s late, I thought you’d go home and crash once you got back from your gig.”

It was only the second full week of summer, and Blaine had already secured a semi-regular gig performing up at Kings Island. The shows were silly, but it was singing, and it would look good on Blaine’s college applications. Most importantly, it was money - pocket money he could use to make the most of his summer with Kurt, and maybe to save for New York.

And then he ran into a guy by the kiddie rides, and they kind of hit it off, and Blaine left with the feeling that his summer job was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

“I think I’m in love,” he sighed dreamily, flopping back onto the bed beside Kurt, folding his arms behind his head and gazing up at the ceiling. 

Kurt let out a weird, almost strangled type of noise, and Blaine looked over at him curiously. Kurt’s face was red, and he averted his eyes from Blaine quickly, audibly clearing his throat.

“Um. Do tell,” Kurt managed, and Blaine shrugged it off, the thought that Kurt was acting strange leaving his mind as quickly as it came because yes, Blaine wanted to tell him everything.

“Well, his name is Jeremiah, and he’s said he’s starting at OSU in the fall, and he has this- this really wavy highlighted hair that looks so nice, and we just started talking, and anyway, he said if I wanted to, I could come early next week and hang out with him on his dinner break, and…”

He rambled on and on about their ten-minute interaction that just felt like so much more, musing about possible theme park dates and kisses on top of the ferris wheel, and if Kurt was unusually quiet and withdrawn, almost unresponsive, Blaine didn’t notice.

It hadn’t seemed like a big deal to Blaine at first, at least not regarding his friendship with Kurt. One - or both, he hoped - of them dating was inevitable, and Kurt had been in his life for so long that Blaine didn’t know how not to be friends with him. Adding a boy into the mix wouldn’t change them - they were stronger than that.

But as he spent more time with Jeremiah, - always at Kings Island, never outside work - and as his daydreams of a kiss on top of the ferris wheel and dates playing carnival games did come true, Kurt just...didn’t seem as excited about it as Blaine was.

And slowly, Kurt stopped texting Blaine first, stopped calling, stopped showing up at Blaine’s house, just like that.

At first Blaine figured maybe Kurt was busy - he was taking more shifts at his dad’s shop, so maybe that’s all it was. He was busy, too, with his gigs and with Jeremiah, but he was always willing to make time for Kurt.

Apparently Kurt didn’t want his time, though, and Blaine wasn’t sure why.

He brushed it off for a while. Friendships wax and wane, and they would always come back together, right? Maybe Kurt just needed a little space. Maybe the impending stress of senior year was getting to him or something, but… Blaine still wished Kurt would talk to him, wished Kurt would let him in the way he always used to.

Blaine tried to reach out. He tried to talk to Kurt, to really talk, but the rare times he did get Kurt alone, it was like Kurt wouldn’t talk about anything with substance.

The one time he brought it up, in the last few weeks of summer, Blaine made it even worse.

“...and that house was so perfect, but then they saw this other house that was way overpriced, and it needed so many renovations to even be livable, really. But you’ll never guess which one they picked, Blaine. They picked that one! It was a total rip-off. Carole and I were practically yelling at the TV when-”

“Why don’t we talk anymore?” Blaine blurted out from his spot on Kurt’s floor, leaning up against the wall and looking over at the bed where Kurt was sprawled out. 

“We’re talking right now,” Kurt bristled, sitting up on the bed and curling his knees up to his chest defensively. “At least, until you so rudely interrupted me.”

Blaine frowned, pulling himself up off the floor and moving over to the bed, sitting down gingerly next to Kurt, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“No, I mean. You know I love your House Hunters rundowns, but weren’t we supposed to be, I don’t know, planning for New York and everything this summer? Or...talking about anything real?” he asked tentatively, stomach whirling with nerves. He knew he was oblivious at best a lot of the time, and he knew he missed a lot sometimes.

He had a feeling he was missing something, but he had no idea what. He hated that feeling.

“Well, you got busy,” Kurt bit out, voice dripping with a bitterness that made Blaine’s blood run cold, made him want to grovel for forgiveness, though he wasn’t sure what he had done wrong.

“I-I’m never too busy for you, Kurt, you know that.” Blaine reached out to place a gentle hand over Kurt’s on his knee, intending to take it and hold it the way they always did, but his heart sank as Kurt flinched at his touch, and he withdrew his hand quickly. “I-I’m sorry, I-”

“You should get going,” Kurt said coldly, looking away. “Shouldn’t Jeremiah be calling soon or something?”

Blaine looked at Kurt sadly as he gathered his things - his backpack, his shoes, his cardigan - but Kurt’s expression never changed. Kurt never looked over at him, never said another word, even as Blaine said a quiet, wounded goodbye. 

Blaine knew Kurt’s defense mechanisms well. He shut down, shut people out - but never Blaine. In fact, Blaine was the only person he had never shut out, not in nearly a decade of friendship.

At least not until now. 

As oblivious as Blaine often was, he always knew when he wasn’t wanted.

Blaine spent dozens of sleepless nights during the first months of his senior year pouring over every detail of his last interactions with Kurt, trying to figure out where it all went wrong - where he went wrong.

He never found any answers.

Jeremiah broke things off a few days before the first day of school, saying it was always just a summer fling, never serious, and he couldn’t be starting college while dating a high schooler, anyway. Blaine was surprised to find that he didn’t even care.

He was too concerned with Kurt.

As many nights as he lay awake wondering about Kurt, he wondered about himself, too - about why he didn’t care about Jeremiah breaking things off when he thought he liked him so much, about how losing Kurt hurt worse than just losing a friend, about how something had to be wrong with him for aching for Kurt on his loneliest nights, missing his voice and his hugs and his laugh and even his smell.

There had to be something wrong with him.

But as the school year progressed, Blaine began to force down the questions and the confusing feelings and the longing, and he forced himself to accept that he wouldn’t be getting any answers, that nothing would be changing.

Slowly but surely, those sleepless nights grew fewer and farther between.

It was over. Kurt wasn’t his friend anymore, and that had to be that. Instead, Blaine forced himself to pour his time and energy into glee club, into the friends he did still have - the ones he and Kurt used to share, the ones Kurt left behind, too. He was fine for awhile - happy, even - although it was never quite the same. 

Blaine always felt the gnawing pain of the empty space Kurt left behind in his happiest moments - winning Sectionals, Regionals, and even Nationals for the first time, getting into NYU, getting the lead in the school musical. He was happy, sure, but he could never lose the feeling that it would have all been so much better with Kurt by his side.

He wondered if he would ever lose that feeling.

As hard as he had tried to suppress it, lying in bed that night as Rachel’s words rolled around in his mind, Blaine began to think again.

Don’t you want to know what happened?

Maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him.

Doesn’t the fact that we’re all about to graduate make you want to try one more time?

He did want to try.

But as silly as it was, he was still wounded from the last time he had geared himself up to talk to Kurt, to face him and confront him and win him over, even months later.

It was an attempt so badly failed it nearly knocked the wind out of him - before he even got the chance to try.

Blaine spent hours the night before the first day of school picking out his outfit.

He had never spent so much time in his own closet before - he liked fashion, and he liked dressing well, but he was never particularly choosy about his outfits. If he needed to dress up a certain way, he just always let Kurt pick out his clothes.

But that wasn’t an option anymore.

Blaine needed it to be perfect, though. If he looked good, he would feel confident, and then maybe he would be brave enough to set his plan into motion: talking to Kurt at his locker.

It was something small, but it felt monumental. They hadn’t talked in a few weeks - not since Kurt had shut him out and told him to leave. Blaine took the hint and wanted to give Kurt the space he needed, but he figured it had been long enough.

He figured, too, that a neutral, familiar, public setting like the school hallway would be a good place to start.

Finally, he settled on his favorite red chinos, a new, crisp black polo, and a bowtie - a classic, somewhat understated look for him, but one he knew Kurt would approve of.

He hoped.

Blaine felt good in it, at least, and he felt good all the way to school. He even felt okay as he drove past the Hummels’ house - even as he saw Kurt’s car was already gone from the driveway, meaning he was already at school. Nervous energy thrummed in his veins, but it propelled him all the way to the front door of the school, all the way down the hallway.

He was ready - ready to talk to Kurt, ready to get his best friend back, ready to take senior year by storm together.

But then he saw Kurt, and he froze.  

Blaine didn’t know what he was looking at - it didn’t make sense. Kurt was at the other end of the hallway, but he was clad in a Cheerios uniform, arm in arm with Santana and Brittany, another smaller group of Cheerios behind them.

Kurt wasn’t a Cheerio. He had never wanted to be a Cheerio, or so Blaine thought.

But there he was, in all of his red-and-white glory, chin held higher than Blaine had ever seen it at their school, clearly establishing himself as pack leader, making him effectively untouchable.

Kurt and Blaine both always knew that a sports uniform was as good as invincible armor. Everyone knew that.

It was a shield against bullies, but it was protection against the losers, too, the glee clubbers and the math nerds and the superhero geeks.

Losers like Blaine.

Blaine got the message loud and clear.

The Cheerios uniform meant there was no way Blaine could talk to Kurt at school, and it wasn’t like he felt comfortable showing up at Kurt’s house, either.

There was nothing he could do.

But he still looked for Kurt, still tried to avoid him but still inevitably looked at him, every time. Kurt looked okay - happy, even. He was safe in his Cheerios uniform in a way he nor Blaine had ever been, and despite his own feelings, his own hurt, Blaine was glad for that.

It seemed like Kurt poured himself into cheerleading just as much as Blaine poured himself into glee club. From the pep rallies and the football games Blaine attended, it was obvious that Kurt was good. Really good.

Blaine wondered if he really was happy, or if Kurt was putting on a mask at all, just like he was.

He always felt selfish for wondering that.

Talking to Kurt at school wasn’t an option, and neither was outside of school, but now there was a party.

Blaine couldn’t go. He couldn’t just show up, but what if it was his last chance?

Everything was about to change. He was going to New York - and he knew from Rachel that Kurt was, too. Kurt had gotten into NYADA, and he was going to get to perform, just like he always wanted.

Blaine was happy for him.

But even though they were still going to be in the same city, New York was huge. Everything was going to be different and new and exciting and crazy, and they were going to be at different schools, anyways. 

They would never see each other again - no bumping into each other in the hallway, no sightings across the cafeteria, no more passing by Kurt’s house every damn day, whether he wanted to or not.

Truthfully, Blaine didn’t understand why he even cared so much, after all this time. He didn’t get why he couldn’t just let it go, couldn’t move on. Kurt was his friend, his childhood best friend, at that. What kind of person stayed best friends with the same person for their entire lives?

Before the summer everything changed, Blaine had always just assumed they really would.

They were so strong, so consistent, so in sync.

Surely Kurt missed that too, at least a little bit.

But if Blaine showed up at the party, what would Kurt do?

Maybe he would completely ignore Blaine, or maybe he would get angry and tell him to fuck off, or maybe, just maybe, he would give him a chance.

Maybe Kurt would hear him out.

Blaine would have been hopeless, - wouldn’t have even considered the possibility - but there was one little moment, one brief interaction that lingered at the back of his mind, keeping the flame of hope alive, faint but there.

Prom.

Blaine almost hadn’t wanted to go to prom, but Tina and Rachel convinced him.

Rachel was going with Finn, naturally, but Tina was between boyfriends and decided to ask Blaine to come as her date, making a big show out of a promposal during glee rehearsal and everything.

It was fun, and it made Blaine smile, and he was powerless to say anything but yes.

A bunch of the glee club kids all went in a big group, even going to Breadstix for dinner beforehand, and Blaine acutely felt safe in their numbers. He knew everybody who was anybody would be at prom - meaning Kurt.

But everyone in glee club knew what happened between him and Kurt - they had lost Kurt, too, when Kurt just never showed up for rehearsal that year. It stung for everyone, but they knew it hurt Blaine the most.

And so they were there, making it their mission for Blaine to have a good time at prom, with Tina as the head of it all.

It was fun, in the end. There was music, and there was dancing, and Blaine couldn’t resist showboating a couple silly numbers of his own, up on the stage with his friends.

He felt handsome and confident in his tuxedo, and with Tina on his arm, he was happy.

In fact, he was having such a good time that Kurt all but slipped from his mind - until they saw each other.

It was a slow song, a number he wouldn’t have normally danced to, but Tina pulled him onto the dance floor. In the back of Blaine’s mind, he decided he might have to remind Tina of his intentions and his sexuality, judging by the way her arms were curled closely around his neck and how her head was on his shoulder. He felt silly for it - his obliviousness striking again, perhaps - but it was a conversation for another day.

They were swaying back and forth in a slow, wide circle, and as they came around the bend, Blaine lifted his head up, only to look straight into the eyes of Kurt, who was standing over by the punch table.

Normally, Blaine would have instantly shied away, freezing up in avoidance, but something about the little smile that spread across Kurt’s face, the way his eyebrow quirked in wordless curiosity, no doubt regarding Tina, warmed Blaine down to his toes instead, making him let out a little breathless, shaky laugh.

Not to mention Kurt looked beautiful - in an impeccably tailored suit, a tall top hat on his head that would have looked absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. Blaine had gotten so used to seeing him in his Cheerios uniform that it all hit so much harder, a strange sensation twisting in the pit of his stomach.

Blaine swallowed thickly as he looked away and as the moment passed, confused at how strongly it made him feel.

It was silly, but that one little smile, that split second of silent communication nearly a month ago, was enough to make Blaine think that there was still a chance.

In the back of his mind, Blaine knew that one little smile made him feel more than any kiss he shared with Jeremiah, but he didn’t let himself linger on that.

If he was going to show up at the party, he needed to figure out what to say.

He needed to apologize, and he needed to explain himself, and he needed to listen to anything Kurt had to say, anything Kurt might be willing to tell him.

Even the possibility of a real conversation with Kurt practically made Blaine come out of his skin with nerves, made a strange mix of anxiety and hope and dread and excitement and something else swirl in his belly, leaving him unable to sleep.

Eventually, Blaine pulled his phone off the nightstand, wincing at the bright screen illuminating in the dark. It was late, - far too late - and the party was still a few weeks away, but he knew if he confirmed with Rachel now, she wouldn’t let him forget about it.

He had to commit before he chickened out.

To Rachel: Okay, I’m in. I’ll come to the party.

For better or for worse, Blaine had little time to worry about the party in the weeks leading up to it.

His schedule was suddenly chock full of studying for finals, taking finals, singing final solos and duets and group numbers with his friends, coming off a fresh win at Nationals, and then there was preparing for graduation, and he was beginning to prepare for the fall at NYU on top of it all, registering for orientation and classes and putting his name into the dorm room assignment pool.

Blaine thrived on being busy. Kurt used to say he had endless energy - when they were kids, Blaine could spend hours in the pool or on Kurt’s trampoline, and when they got older, he was always doing something, fiddling around on the piano or composing little melodies under his breath or even folding origami during one particular summer.

Staying busy helped Blaine stay in the moment, and it helped him keep his confusing whirlwind of thoughts at bay, which he usually needed.

In fact, he had become reliant on it when it came to thinking about Kurt, hurting over what he lost, wondering how to get him back.

But now Blaine had to figure out how to get him back. He had to figure out exactly the right thing to say and the right way to say it because this was his one chance, his last chance to clear the air and convince Kurt to be his friend again.

The one time Blaine actually wanted to think, he didn’t have the time to do it.

Of course, Rachel was thrilled that he was going to the party, but in a rare vein of tact and understanding, she didn’t try to talk about it much. Once Blaine agreed to it, she didn’t push further - didn’t ask him of his plans, didn’t so much as even mention it to Finn, either. 

Oddly, she gave him the space to do it all on his own, and even though that made it harder, Blaine knew it was the way it needed to be.

The day of graduation came around quickly, and Blaine found himself more anxious for the party that night than the actual act of graduating high school. It was a big deal for a lot of his peers, but it wasn’t for him - it was just something that was expected of him.

His parents didn’t even come to the ceremony.

He was proud of himself, though, in the end. He still felt a rush of giddy excitement walking across the stage, taking his diploma, tossing his cap into the air and flipping the tassel.

Blaine’s future was spread open out in front of him, and it was up to him to make it happen - starting with the party.

He decided to show up late.

Blaine figured he would give everyone a chance to settle in, let the drinks start flowing, let Kurt hopefully loosen up, before he showed up and potentially brought it all crashing down.

If he even got let in.

God, he hoped he wouldn’t ruin everything.

Of course, Blaine decided all of this retroactively, when he ended up losing himself in the anguish of fixing his hair perfectly, finding the best outfit that looked casual-yet-put-together, pumping himself up and forcing himself out the door.

By the time he was ready, he was already over an hour late.

He decided to walk the few streets over to Kurt’s house, figuring the cool evening air would do his nerves good. And he was nervous, practically vibrating with it as he walked the same path he had countless times over the years, the path he hadn’t walked in months.

He wondered how many times they visited each other’s houses in the decade they were friends - hundreds? Maybe more?

Regardless of how many it was, Blaine took them all for granted.

All too soon, Blaine was there, standing on the front porch. It felt strange to knock - he had been letting himself in and out of Kurt’s house since he was old enough to be trusted out on his own. 

Things were different now, though.

He heard the steady thump of music from inside, but he knew the party was bound to be a low-key one. Burt would never allow a rager inside his house, and Blaine doubted Finn and Kurt would want to have one, anyways. Burt’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, - likely in DC with Carole, doing some political work - but Blaine had a feeling he knew about the party, had even encouraged them to have it.

Blaine wondered if Burt ever asked about him, ever questioned where he went, ever missed him.

Finally, he took a deep breath, reaching to knock on the door and immediately feeling silly for doing it.

It was a party. No one would hear him at the door, especially not over an hour into it.

But, surprisingly, the door opened moments later, and Blaine stopped breathing.

There was Kurt, standing there with a red solo cup in his hand, wearing a tight, short-sleeved button down with little prints on it, unbuttoned to the third button and tucked into a pair of tight, light-wash jean shorts, cuffed at the bottom.

God, he looked incredible.

What?

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed out shakily, eyes wide as they gaped at each other for a moment. 

“I- Rachel invited me,” Blaine hurried out after what felt like an eternity, spurring into action and pointedly ignoring the heat coiling in his belly, no doubt flushing up his neck. “I hope that’s okay, I can just-”

“No, um. Come in.”

As soon as Kurt appeared, he was gone and leaving Blaine to it, hurrying off into the crowd of partygoers - more people than Blaine had expected, in fact. 

Blaine took a deep breath before coming in, heading for the kitchen first. His instincts were telling him to get a drink, to loosen up and to forget, but he ignored the pull of the bowl of mystery punch on the counter in favor of a glass of water.

He needed to be completely sober if he was going to talk to Kurt.

Evidently, Kurt didn’t have the same concern.

He wasn’t drunk, at least from what Blaine could tell, but he seemed to be well on his way - whenever Blaine got sight of him, his face was more flushed, and his hair was beginning to flop across his forehead, and he always seemed to be sipping from a cup in his hand.

Most importantly, he seemed to be avoiding Blaine.

Blaine expected that. It wasn’t like he expected Kurt’s walls to crumble the second Blaine set foot in his house, but he had been hoping for something, some little indication that he might be willing to talk.

“I think you’re making him nervous,” Rachel half-shouted in his ear at one point, making herself heard above the music. They were sitting together on the couch - Rachel taking a break from the makeshift dance floor, Blaine actively trying and failing to not watch Kurt dancing. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Blaine sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous habit he picked up whenever his curls weren’t gelled down to his head the way he preferred - but Kurt had mentioned once that he liked his hair natural, so Blaine went light on the gel.

He wasn’t sure why looking the way Kurt liked him to mattered so much, but Blaine felt like he should.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted lamely, looking over at Rachel with a sad, tightlipped smile.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder briefly, patting his knee.

“You have to try to talk to him. You’ll be mad at yourself if you don’t.”

Blaine wondered when Rachel had gotten so wise.

She was right, though, and after a few more minutes of sitting with her, he knew he couldn’t keep waiting.

Looking around, he found Kurt in the corner, by himself for the first time that night.

It was Blaine’s chance, and he needed to take it.

He made his way over to Kurt swiftly, weaving through the tipsy, sweaty bodies, heart pounding in his chest but without a doubt in his mind. The moment Kurt noticed him, he made to run off, but Blaine was already there, blocking Kurt’s way by bracing his hand on the wall in a weird stroke of confidence - he wasn’t sure where it came from, but he was glad all the same.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded, attempting to raise his voice over the music. “Please, just- For a minute?”

Kurt visibly bristled, righting his posture and lifting his chin in a defense mechanism Blaine had become familiar with seeing - maybe that was the shield after all, Cheerios uniform or not.

“I don’t have anything to say,” Kurt said evenly, but months of not talking couldn’t undo years of knowing one another - he knew Kurt did, but he was scared for some reason.

Blaine wondered, not for the first time, why Kurt was so afraid to talk to him, why things changed and fell apart so quickly.

“Please,” he begged, not caring how desperate he sounded. “Can we just go somewhere for five minutes? Then I’ll- I’ll leave you alone forever, if that’s what you want.”

Kurt stared at him for a long moment, expression unreadable, before he gave Blaine the most near-imperceptible nod he had ever seen, brushing past him in a wordless invitation for Blaine to follow. 

Awestruck, Blaine could only do just that - as they dodged people in the house that was once Blaine’s second home, his mind went blank. His thought-out speech was gone, his questions and pleas and explanations dead and wordless before they even left his mouth.

All he could hold onto was the feeling of being merely seen by Kurt, the anticipation of being alone with him for the first time in months, something deeper and more firmly-settled in his bones than anything he had ever felt before.

Maybe the alcohol was the only reason Kurt agreed, but Blaine would take it all the same.

Kurt led him out into the backyard, and Blaine was struck by the peaceful serenity outside in contrast to the party in the house. He had spent countless afternoons in this very backyard, making forts and having tea parties, laying out in hammocks and lighting off sparklers, playing tag and laying in the grass. 

It looked different - Carole had obviously gotten her hands on it, ever the green thumb - there was a full garden now, what looked like tomato and pepper plants lining one side of the fence, flowers surrounding a small gazebo on the other side. Their childhood swing set was long gone, replaced by a small fire pit and a group of chairs, sitting a neat stone patio with a grill, all outlined by twinkling fairy lights.

And then Kurt turned around, and it was like Blaine was seeing him for the first time.

Suddenly, it all made sense - why he didn’t care about being dumped by Jeremiah, why he missed Kurt so badly it hurt, why he longed for him, particularly at night, why his smile at prom meant the world to him, why he looked so painfully beautiful now that it took Blaine’s breath away.

He wasn’t just his childhood friend.

Blaine wanted so much more.

But it didn’t matter - it was too late, if there was ever a time when it wasn’t too late. The odds of both of them falling for their childhood best friends years after knowing each other was just plain unrealistic, and as hopeless a romantic as Blaine was, he wasn’t that delusional.

His feelings didn’t matter, especially not when Kurt could barely look at him.

“If you’re going to talk, talk,” Kurt said cooly, snapping Blaine out of his head - he was staring again, but Kurt was looking away, at something far off in the distance. 

Blaine wondered if he was looking at anything at all, or maybe just anywhere but him.

He wanted to talk. He had a million things to say, a million thoughts prepared, but he was lost in the realization of his feelings, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

I love you, he wanted to say. I know you don’t feel the same, you can’t feel the same, but I do, and I need you to know. I miss you like nothing else, like a part of me is gone, and knowing you hate me is crushing my soul every day, especially because I don’t know why. I know I should know why, but I don’t know, even after all this time. All I know is that I love you, and I probably always did, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop.

He couldn’t say any of it.

“What happened?” he choked out instead, willing away the tears that prickled behind his eyes. “Please, I just… You can tell me. I’m so sorry for whatever it is. I just- I feel like I don’t know anything, but I miss you. I miss you so much, Kurt.”

His voice was barely a whisper by the end of it, and he instantly regretted letting his emotions take such hold. He was going to scare Kurt off, and he knew it, but there was no taking it back.

“It’s stupid,” Kurt admitted, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh, still looking away from Blaine. “I-It was selfish of me, honestly. I was upset, I guess, but then it all got so- so big, and it got away from me… And I just couldn’t work up the nerve to come back to you and talk to you. My- My stupid pride thing, I guess.”

Blaine knew it well - but it had never gotten in the way of them before.

Kurt was always so strong, so powerful, apparently wielding more power than either of them realized - enough power to wreck even them.

But it still didn’t make sense.

“Why were you upset, though?” Blaine wanted to know, voice desperate as he took a step forward, silently willing Kurt to look at him. “I mean, what changed? A-All I could ever think of is- is Jeremiah, but I always would have made time for you, you know that? You- You were always my first priority no matter who else was in my life, and god, you still are. It- It was just a summer fling, anyways. That’s all it ever was.”

Part of him wanted to reach out to Kurt, to take his hand the way he always used to, to hug him, even, but he couldn’t.

It wasn’t his place.

Kurt ducked his head down, then, watching as he scuffed his shoe against the stone patio. He was quiet for a while - for so long, that Blaine wondered if he needed to say something else - but then he looked up, meeting Blaine’s eyes for the first time that night.

His eyes were shining with unshed tears, - something impossibly rare for him - bright, honest pools of pure blue that struck Blaine in his chest.

“I-I know that now. I’m so sorry, Blaine,” he whispered shakily, and Blaine caved, months-long resolve crumbling completely as he drew Kurt into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around him and burying his face in his neck, the way he always used to.

He didn’t even have time to worry if it was the wrong move - Kurt was hugging him back in an instant, melting into it, clutching the back of Blaine’s shirt in his fists like he needed to feel him to stay tethered to the earth, the same way Blaine felt. 

“I missed you so much,” Blaine choked out, barely managing to swallow back a fresh wave of tears, holding him tighter instead. He never thought he would have this again - never thought he would even speak to Kurt again, much less hug him, much less hold him so closely that it was like Kurt was everywhere, like Blaine was breathing him in all around him, like he was coming home for the first time in months.

It was so deliciously familiar, but it was new, too, Blaine’s heart filled with the knowledge and understanding of his feelings, whether Kurt reciprocated them or not.

For a moment, that didn’t matter - Kurt was there, and it was more than Blaine could have ever hoped for. 

Blaine had no idea how long it was before they pulled away, but the tension had long seeped out of his body, and he felt it leaving Kurt’s, too. 

But it still didn’t quite make sense - there was still something Blaine was missing.

“Why did it bother you so much?” he wanted to know, voice soft and hopefully open, creating space for Kurt to speak. They were standing close together now, no longer touching, but as Kurt visibly hesitated, Blaine finally allowed himself to reach for his hand, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. “Is there something else?”

“It was just...hard hearing about you- um, being with someone else,” Kurt confessed quietly, looking down at their joined hands. Blaine brushed his thumb over Kurt’s knuckles, back and forth in a silent support, giving him room, giving him time to go at his own pace. “Just, uh. Knowing you were… I don’t know. Out there having fun, dating and, um, kissing another guy.”

“I don’t understand,” Blaine admitted, because he didn’t. He had never seen Kurt quite like this, so nervous to be upfront and honest, especially not with him. He knew it had been months since they had spoken, but this didn’t make sense - was Kurt jealous that Blaine had someone and he didn’t? Was that really grounds for him to break off their friendship? 

Blaine wondered if his obliviousness was getting in the way again - but, truly, he had no idea.

“Oh, fuck it all,” Kurt muttered, and then he was right there, pulling Blaine close and kissing him right on the mouth, one arm wrapping around his waist, the fingers of the other tangling in the curls at the back of Blaine’s head, holding him there.

Blaine melted into it instantly, grasping at Kurt wherever he could reach him, ending up with one hand on Kurt’s bare chest, under his partially-unbuttoned shirt, the other cupping his jaw, pulling him infinitely closer because this, this was the only thing that had made sense for months, for nearly a year, ever since everything began to change - even before that.

Kissing Kurt was nothing like kissing Jeremiah. Jeremiah was fine, perfectly pleasant, even, but this was positively electric. Blaine’s nerve endings were on fire, adrenaline coursing through his veins and twisting inside of him, making his toes curl inside his shoes and making him feel more alive than he ever felt.

It was just a simple kiss - there wasn’t much movement, and it was a little dry, but it was perfect. 

It was everything Blaine never knew he needed.

And then they were both smiling against each other’s mouths, and they were both letting out little breathless giggles, and they broke away to embrace the giddiness of it all, foreheads resting together and noses brushing.

“I think I get it now,” Blaine grinned, and Kurt barked out a laugh before pulling him into another kiss, and then one more, and then another, and they lost themselves in it completely, kissing right there in the middle of the garden, twinkling lights around them, no one the wiser back inside.

Eventually, they pulled away for air, and Blaine just tugged Kurt into another close embrace as their breaths mixed warm and ragged between them, unable to let him go for even a moment.

“I missed you, too, you know,” Kurt whispered, and Blaine grinned, pressing a series of soft kisses to the corners of Kurt’s mouth, his cheek, his jaw. “We’ve got some catching up to do… Be my summer fling?”

“No,” Blaine said quickly, pulling away enough to look at Kurt with mock seriousness, a little thrill running through him at the way Kurt’s face fell a little, his eyebrows raising in confusion.

Unable to draw it out for any longer, Blaine pulled Kurt into another kiss, long and languid, daringly darting his tongue out to swipe across his bottom lip before breaking apart again.

Surprisingly, Kurt didn't taste like alcohol at all, Blaine realized, only diet soda. 

He hadn't been drinking at all.

This was all real, all them, nothing else, and it gave Blaine the courage to take the leap, to set it in stone.

“We’ll both be in New York,” he murmured against Kurt’s lips, giving him a few more soft kisses. “We’re gonna be so much more than a fling.”