Work Text:
*
"You look like shit."
Blaine slowly looks up, already pissed off and annoyed early in the morning, meeting the green eyes of his friend sitting across from him.
He has a quirky smile, hidden behind the rim of his glass as he elegantly sips his coffee. And rested eyes, which he himself certainly does not have; he’s convinced that the bags under his eyes are so heavy that he has gained at least a pound on the scale.
"The fact that you're engaged to my brother does not entitle you to be such a jerk," he murmurs through clenched teeth, running a hand over his eyes without much strength.
"Before being your future brother-in-law, I'm your friend. I've gifted you my presence for seven years and you will put up with me for another hundred. You should be happy."
"A hundred more years… You have such high expectations. I think I’d rather be run over."
"If that’s what you want. But, the funeral expenses are the painful part. Oh! We could just throw you in the mass grave, how about that?"
Blaine stares at him. A little more annoyed than before. "Fuck you, Sebastian. Why are you so jolly and perky first thing in the morning? I can't stand you."
Sebastian blinks. "You really don't want to know," the asshole continues, finishing his morning coffee.
Blaine fakes a gag. "I don't want to hear any stories featuring my brother's dick, thank you," he says, plugging his ears. He sets about nibbling on his pistachio croissant, hoping the buttery, sweet taste will wake him up a bit, but no dice.
"I didn't mention any dick, honey. You did it all by yourself.” Sebastian tilts his head, subjecting Blaine to intense scrutiny. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You are being more of a tight ass than usual.”
Blaine sighs again. He expects any day now a fine from NOAA for contributing to the enlargement of the ozone hole. "I can't sleep, Seb. I can't sleep anymore! And I don't know what to do! Last week I must have slept a total of eight hours, if I'm being generous," he huffs, clutching his hair. "I think it all started happening since I broke up with Jeremiah," he says, looking down.
"I already told you not to say that little slut's name, please," Sebastian hisses, still more pissed at his ex than he is himself.
Blaine ignores him. "I think being cheated on has aggravated my anxiety. I've moved out of the apartment and there's the rent on this one to pay but I'm alone; the various– things, to pay; my job, my social anxiety that's getting stronger and heavier and– I can't keep up with it all! I'm stressed," he says in a small voice, looking up to keep the tears from falling. "I'm stressed. I'm stressed, tired and exhausted! Look!" he says, showing Sebastian a small bundle of hair pulled unceremoniously from the nape of his own neck. "Look! I'm losing my hair, too! And I'm pissed as hell, God."
He holds his head with his arm resting on the table, applying pressure with his fingertips to try to relieve the headache that has been gripping him all night.
He feels Sebastian's gaze drilling into his skull but avoids it. The lack of rest also kills his will to argue. He's already nervous enough, he doesn't need that either.
He just feels like crying. Maybe it's not because of his problems with anxiety as it is more because of fatigue. Frustration. When he feels his brain awake and working through the night. Phrases his mind repeats to the bitter end. Choruses of songs that disturb him to finish and start over. And then he thinks about money; money for this, money for that. And the sentimental issue that certainly doesn't help. He feels and looks ugly. He also lost the sparkle and liveliness with which he could mask his worries and insecurities. He is really, really tired. And tiredness leads him to nervousness.
"Have you tried anything yet? Any particular herbal teas? Melatonin?"
Blaine snorts, feigning amusement. "Of course. And they work every time!" he exclaims, raising his voice a little too high, feeling one eye flicker with nerves. "Exactly five minutes before the alarm goes off. Maybe I should get some marijuana from my students," he whispers.
"Pardon?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing, nothing."
"Did you just said marijuana?"
"No."
"Bla–”
"What would be the harm in that?"
Sebastian looks at him. "Are you really saying this to a police officer?"
"You're in plain clothes, there's no value in what my big ass tired mouth says," he mumbles, trying to defend himself.
His friend laughs, surely at the absurdity of the situation. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Now, let's do this–"
Blaine stares at him walking to the bar counter, paying for both of their breakfasts, returning and slipping on his jacket. The vision wavers slightly, but now more than ever he cannot heed the only urge to sleep he has during the day. "I have to leave. I have to meet with the florist to decide how to decorate the reception hall and it's already late. So, let's do this," he repeats, finishing the arrangement of his coat and shiny hair. "Don't go to your beloved book club this afternoon. They will survive a day without you. Go home, close every shutter, turn off every light and device and your phone. And unplug the doorbell," he says, pointing to each spot on the fingers of his own hand. He arranges the last few things in his pockets and approaches Blaine, looking down at him.
"Meditate. Do yoga. Watch an asmr video, porn. What do I know, my friend. Something to relax you. Maybe don't eat carbs, keep it light, and then–" his speech is interrupted by the phone, so Blaine meanwhile fiddles with a pulled thread of his teddy coat. Even the weave of the fabric bothers him; his eyes twitch and burn. He blinks them several times to focus, but ends up feeling heavier than before.
"Sure. All right. See you tonight, handsome," whispers Sebastian, winking at nothing and then hanging up. "Cooper says hi."
"Of course."
"And I can't remember what I was saying, but I have to run, B, I'm so sorry," he grabs his scarf from the back of the chair and his bag, reaches down and leaves a kiss on Blaine's forehead. "Don't be a stranger," he says, running toward the exit.
Blaine remains motionless. He feels his heavy, warm eyelids threatening to close, but he resists. "Yeah, sure," he murmurs, staring at the wall.
After holding the same position for several seconds and projecting a series of abstract dots onto it, in doubt, he gets up and goes to order his fourth coffee of the day. And it's barely 9 a.m.
Is getting run over a terrible option?
*
"You look like shit."
Blaine raises an eyebrow. "That's a very common compliment today. Thank you, Kitty."
She rolls her eyes. "I didn't mean to tease you, although I often do. But today you really are the embodiment of misery. Of sickness. Of pain, of–"
"Kitty, I underst–"
"Your skin is gray and your eyes are re–"
"I fucking get it, Katherine!" He clears his throat, taking a deep breath. Kitty stares at him, interdicted.
"Sorry," he whispers, embarrassed.
"You better be."
"I just haven't been doing very well for about a month."
Kitty watches him huff and puff, rub his temples, and then slump down on the teacher's lounge table. He looks really exhausted. "What's the matter with you, Blaine? Really," she whispers, trying not to attract too many prying eyes. Working in a school is like living in a small neighborhood. Everyone knows everything. And without a little discretion, your secret will be the hot topic for the next three days in the student toilets.
She hears Blaine murmuring something, but it’s masked by the sweater on which his face is smeared. "I didn't understand a damn thing and if you want help you should cooperate, buddy," she says, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Blaine just shifts his face to the right, meeting his colleague's gaze. "I'm having trouble sleeping, Kitty," he admits in an exhausted voice. "And before you ask, I'm taking melatonin and I'm drinking all kinds of chamomile tea. I've tried reading before bed, something that used to greatly comfort my sleep, but nothing work–"
"Um, maybe you need to sleep with someone?" his friend and colleague suggests between her teeth, interrupting him.
"...already tried."
"Oh."
"Yeah,” he sighs. “I brought this guy home from the club last week. We did stuff. It was pretty nice too, I must say, he had a really nice di–" "No details, please! Ew," Kitty interrupted him, shaking her hands in his direction.
"Okay, okay, huh, as I was saying– I thought it was working but by the time we were done I was ready to send him out and he comes up with the "can I stay over? I live too far from here" crap and of course I, being a fucking people pleaser, couldn't refuse. I spent the whole night awake with fear that the guy would wake up and do something to me or destroy the house."
Kitty pouts. "Oh, B. Normally I would laugh at you, but I'm really sorry. I can clearly see the anguish in your eyes," she says apologetically, resting a hand on Blaine's, who, after huffing again, sits up straight in his chair, cracking his aching back and neck.
"If it helps, I've found that asmr videos really help me relax. For the past few months I've been watching a different video every night, and I must say I've noticed the difference. I sleep like a baby. Marley says I've even started snoring, but I don't believe her," she says, smiling wryly. "I love asmr videos, especially the fast and chaotic ones. They make up for my love life with my wife," she whispers, looking then at Blaine. "Don't tell her that, please."
Blaine stares at her with some disgust. "Why are you all fixated on people chewing loudly with their mouths full and punching a screen?"
Kitty laughs. "It's nothing like that. Or rather, if you don't like that, just look for something else," she shrugs.
Blaine keeps staring at her. "I'm not going to watch videos of people tapping things to sleep. I'm not that desperate."
"You dozed off while pouring coffee and spilled it all over the table. In my opinion, yes, you are."
"You know what! Fuck you, Kitty. I don't need all this nastiness,” he blurts out, grabbing all his things as he exits. “I'm off to class now. Can’t risk me dozing off and offending you."
Kitty tsks. "Someone here is an insomniac and suffer from a male period."
"I heard that!"
*
After a very long and heavy morning spent talking about Renaissance Art History and hearing from one of his students that the Mona Lisa was painted by Leonardo DiCaprio, he is definitely ready to go home.
He has of course already messaged Kitty apologizing for his previous behavior, receiving in response a laughing emoji, a middle finger, and a kissing emoji. He has some really strange friendships.
Sebastian, who in between myriad photos of peach blossoms, gardenias, and roses asking for advice on which one to choose, has prioritized Blaine’s sleep. He sends meditation videos, motivational ones entitled you're awesome and your ex-boyfriend is a piece of shit, get over him, and videos on how to do proper yoga. Blaine appreciates it, he really does. But maybe Sebastian hasn't realized that the only thing that might work is for a five-pound boulder to land on his skull and send him to the mat for a few hours.
After correcting some papers, taking a hot shower, eating a light dinner (leftover pizza with some salad next to it, so it looks healthy) and drinking a really hot lemon balm tea to coax himself to sleep (heh, he'd like that), he makes his way to his room.
It’s barely eleven o'clock. He can make it.
11.24 p.m
He probably dozed off for just ten minutes, waking up in a daze because it occurred to him that it had been too long since he had seen his favorite gray striped cardigan. So an urgent verification that it was in his closet and that he had not forgotten it at Jeremiah's was needed. Okay. Okay, it's in his closet. Perfect. Crushed by other stuff and all crumpled up. He leaves it on the desk, he'll iron it tomorrow.
He lies down again and closes his eyes. This time, it's the right time.
00.07 a.m
Indians can build pools in really very little time. So fascinati– oh, for fucks sake!
He locks the phone forcefully, slamming it on the bedside table.
That's enough.
1.45 a.m
"...it’s not going to be perfect. We’ll have to work at it every day. But I want you. Not for today, or next week, but forever. Every day, you and me. Think about your life twenty years or fifty years from now. Where do you want to be? If it’s with that guy, go. I lost you once. I suppose I can do it again. Just don’t take the easy way out. Answer one question for me. Forget about me and your fiancé and your parents for a minute. Forget about what you should do. What about you? What do you want?"
It was not really necessary to watch, totally out of nowhere, The Notebook and, of course, cry in despair. He throws the phone on the bedside table again. He wipes his eyes, hoping that the useless whining has tired him out, and tries to fall asleep.
But first he goes to get some water. Crying dehydrates him.
2.16 a.m
"...allow your breathing to discover its own natural, unhurried pace. If your thoughts drift to the three-ring shit show of your life, bring your attention back to your breathing. And with each breath, feel your body saying: fuck that."
He takes a deep breath. He will never admit it to Sebastian, but he really likes this video. It's just– more than calming him down, he's getting excited. He is almost tempted to get dressed, take the bus to his old apartment and slap Jeremiah in the face.
He looks at the time and sighs heavily, tossing and turning in the covers. He pauses the video, scrolling through the suggestions until he gets to the asmr section. He holds his thumb suspended in midair, considering whether or not he should give in to temptation.
This is so stupid. But… maybe, it would really help you, he thinks.
He huffs, immediately opening the section on his Youtube. The first result is Cardi B doing asmr for thirty minutes. He really thinks this phase for her will pass, and he doesn't really like her, so he won’t give her the adsense. Although I like it is really a bop but he will never say it out loud.
Under it there are millions of videos with faces of teenage girls and women on the headers and very few with guys. He decides to try one at random, scrolling down the list of videos and pressing on any. He waits for it to load and closes his eyes in the meantime, resting the phone on his chest and waiting for the video to start. He instantly feels someone start tapping loudly and annoyingly. He feels his heartbeat accelerate and his first instinct is to smash the phone to the ground.
"Welcome, welcome, welc–"
Oh, my fucking God! What was that!? What's the point of saying one word over and over again? Okay. Keep calm. Just breathe. Give it a chance, he says to himself.
Blaine watches the girl in the video pretend to scratch the screen with some rather questionable fingernails with strange noises in the background. What– what the hell is it?
"–to another video, video, video, today imma gonna scratch your face, face, face, fa–"
Stop. Stop. Stop. Absolutely not. He already has anxiety; he doesn't need someone to skin his face.
He needs to remember not to click on headlines that read "chaotic and aggressive".
2.50 a.m
"...listen to my voice, close your eyes, imagine a place dear to you, a place that makes you happy..."
He likes this one. Very much. Calm, soothing… voice a bit annoying and saliva noises sickening at times, but all in all, bearable. The girl in the video has a very simple and delicate face, moving her hands slowly and gently, stroking the microphone and causing a little tremor at the base of his neck. She is really pleasant. At least, after the second cup of chamomile tea. He feels heaviness in his eyelids. He is almost excited but decides not to get too distracted by the girl. He takes a deep breath and resumes listening.
"...you are in a safe place, you are not a burden…"
I am not, exactly!
"...you are capable, you are good, you are smart…"
True, absolutely true. I am fantastic. I am amazing. Fuck you, Jeremiah.
"...you can do anything you waGRAMMARLY SAVED MY LIFE –"
“What the fuck!” he shouts. God, fucking ads. Why put it in the middle of a relaxing video? This makes him want to cry. And scream.
If Youtube wants him to upgrade to premium, keeping him awake and irritable has the opposite effect.
3.28 a.m
Last try. And then he'll give in to marijuana.
He scroll through the videos again, specifically looking for "no ads" in the search bar.
He avoids the chaotic ones. Those with scratching or weird things like teeth tapping. Those that are too bright, too. He eliminates a lot of options.
His gaze falls on a dark blue header, illuminated by a warm light behind the back of what looks like a male silhouette. It's intriguing. The boy appears to have a straight, delicate nose and a raised and precise quiff. He clicks it.
In the opening frame of the video, there is just a microphone that, moments later, is joined by a boy. Probably one of the best looking guys Blaine has ever seen. This is going to be hard to concentrate on.
The boy smiles, slowly moving the fingers of his right hand in the air in greeting.
"Hello," he whispers. His voice is delicate and clear, with no annoying sounds of saliva or smacking lips. He already likes it. "If you are new, welcome; or welcome back. My name is Kurt and I recommend you to wear your headphones for a better experience."
Headphones? No one mentioned them in the previous videos. He reaches a hand toward the nightstand to get his earbuds and slips them on, resuming listening.
"Now follow my voice and my hands," that's amazing. It's like he's there with him. Which he honestly wouldn't mind at all.
"I hope you are well. I hope it was a good day, and I wish you the same tomorrow," says the boy, Kurt, fluttering his fingers in the air. He moves them over the fur-covered microphone, recreating the sound of a caress. Blaine feels a shiver roll down his spine. What– what was that?! That was… okay. That was nice. He is already so convinced of his choice. "How about I take a little care of you? Keep following me and my movements," oh, with extreme pleasure. "Bend your head to the left, like this. Yes. Take a deep breath. Let your neck stretch; relax your muscles. Allow your skin to burn. Now, repeat the same thing to the right.”
Between instruction there is some light, gentle sound made with his tongue that Blaine finds particularly stimulating. Or maybe it's simply the boy's appearance that stimulates him, but he can't deny that he's slowly indulging in relaxation. Such a strange feeling.
"...let me blow away your problems, your anxieties, your fears; let me blow away your worries, your destructive thoughts. Just allow peace to invade your mind," Kurt whispers, gently blowing on the microphone that causes a rush of chills down his spine. Oh my God, what an indescribable feeling. And what a sweet, sweet voice.
"Embrace within yourself joy and serenity. Embrace the change. Allow yourself to be happy. Allow the light to come in and keep listening to me. Listen to me, feel me," he says, wrapping his hands around the microphone and beginning to move the fingers around it, as if massaging his temples and scalp.
He closes his eyes, content and fulfilled by the treatment he is receiving. Suddenly his room is no longer cramped and suffocating but large and airy, the blankets warm him without weighing him down, his pajamas smell of his favorite fabric softener, and Kurt's voice lulls him tenderly.
"I assure you that nothing is as chaotic as it seems. Nothing is worth diminishing your health. Nothing is worth poisoning yourself with stress, anxiety and fear,” this really moves Blaine. He feels these words so true. He knows he should not give in to anguish, but– sometimes it's so comfortable to navigate failure, rather than try for fear of failure.
"You can now close your eyes, but keep focusing on my voice. Take another deep breath, like this. Let yourself go, I'm here. I'm with you now..."
But this is the last thing Blaine remembers before, finally, sleep takes over his body.
*
He feels discomfort in his ears and does not understand why. He reaches out his tingling hands toward them, pulling out his earbuds. But– why was he wearing them? He looks at the time. And he almost falls out of bed in surprise. Now he remembers. It was after three o'clock, there was– there was Kurt whispering sweet, soothing things, and he fell asleep. Oh, dear. He slept! He looks at the time again: it's 7:14 a.m. One minute before the alarm clock goes off. Which means he slept for more than three hours! Which for a normal person is tragic but for him is– it's wonderful!
He unlocks the phone. The battery icon flashes and the screen is stopped at the end of Kurt's video, which has accompanied him, unbeknownst to him, for an hour and twenty minutes. The thought makes him blush slightly. He plugs in the battery cable and opens the comments section of the video.
He ponders for a few moments the message to leave.
@bdander: Hi Kurt, my name is Blaine. I've been suffering from insomnia for a while now and just discovered this channel last night. I can do nothing but thank you for helping me to finally, after a long time, get some sleep. I slept for a few hours but it is definitely more than I have slept in the past week. I wanted to tell you that you are a rare gem, I am so glad I found you; I haven't felt so calm and peaceful in months! I have signed up and turned on notifications, and in the meantime, I will watch more videos.
And ps, I hope I am not out of line, you know, me being a guy, but you are disarmingly beautiful. Your smile was definitely my favorite part of the experience.
He reads over and over, slightly cringing at his own words but sending them anyway. It’s only right that a beautiful person receives compliments.
Today, Blaine will face the day with an extra edge. And with a pair of blue eyes etched in his mind.
*
"Earth to Blaine."
He shakes his head, suppressing the dumb smile on his face and devoting his attention to his friend. "Tell me, K."
"No, you tell me. Yesterday you looked like death on vacation and today you look at least ten years younger."
"I look twenty? You know, I actually miss being twenty."
"Blaine!"
"I slept, Kitty! I slept and I'm happy about it, that's all," Blaine admits, laughing at his own statement and hiding his embarrassment behind his right hand. It seems so strange to be happy for so little.
Kitty grins. "Hey, that's great! What happened!? Did you buy a dildo that you didn't have to worry about kicking out after using?"
"Much better. I saw an angel."
Kitty frowns. "Did you have a close encounter with the afterlife?"
Blaine is silent for a few seconds. "I gave in to temptation and finally watched an asmr video. And apparently I picked the right one. It has... put me back in the world."
Kitty has a victorious expression on her face. "No way! So, Mr. Basic bitch "asmr videos sucks" has converted!" says Kitty, mimicking two air quotes.
Blaine watches her smile sarcastically but doesn't care if she's making fun of him. "This basic bitch found “kurtstingles”, fell in love with him and probably not just his tingles."
Kitty's eyes widen. "Kurtstingles! I love him! He's one of my favorites. Did you know that one of his best friends is Quinn Fabray? The most famous lawyer in New York? God, that woman is probably my idol. Every day when I wake up I wonder what would Quinn Fabray do? "
Blaine stares at her with a raised eyebrow. "You have a wife, aren't you exaggerating?"
Kitty rolls her eyes, huffing. "A wife I love madly even though she drives me crazy sometimes. She's just someone I admire, relax, Mr. Bossy pants. But anyway, we weren't talking about me. Tell me about your experience. My favorite kurtstingles’ video is the one where he shakes the glass of iced latte for an hour."
Blaine smiles again. "It happened by accident. I had opened others that I hated. One was too loud, one was too annoying, one was about meditation, but nothing worked until I found Kurt, who I think knocked me out in just 15 minutes. I'm looking forward to tonight again so I can see another one."
Kitty shrugs. "Why don't you watch it now? I always indulge in some asmr during the day, if only to calm myself down. It's relaxing. When there's not you and your idiotic talk to make me laugh."
"Bitch.”
"I love you, too," Kitty says, throwing him a kiss. She gets up from the chair, grabs her jacket and tote bag and puts away the now-empty lunch box. "And I have to run. Today is tryouts day. We're making the new team! I'm so excited!"
"The best volleyball coach this school has ever had. Good luck," Blaine smiles, hugging her tight.
Kitty smiles, reciprocating. "See you on Monday, babe. Have a good weekend!"
Blaine watches her leave the teacher's lounge. Although it's raining outside and probably damp as hell, he can't help but feel elated. He looks at the time, noting that his next class is still some time away. He pulls out his earbuds from his bag, opening Youtube. As he does so, he notices a notification that he is about to open.
Kurt has responded to his comment, pinning it to the first post.
He instantly feels his face and ears heat up.
@kurtstingles: Hello Blaine, thank you very, very much for this message and welcome to the community. I am glad it has been helpful to you and hope to continue to do so as I accompany you on this journey of relaxation and wellness. If you are interested, here is my patreon channel where I share exclusive and more… interesting content, we could call it. Until next time.
And ps, no, you are not out of line at all. I really, really appreciate it. And if I may be bold, if you are the one in the little icon… I can't help but think the same. xoxo
@poleaxeadventurously: not me and my lame ass now shippin kurt with a random commenter.
@vogueeeabbreviation: omg so cuuuttteee
@silverer: Kurt please note my comment too!!!
@midstany: bro just arrived and already got attention. Get in line.
Blaine is shocked. Not only did Kurt read and appreciate his comment, but he was complimented back. Why has no one before now advised him to watch asmr videos?
*
It seems strange for Blaine to say that he is looking forward to bedtime, yet that is what he thinks about all day.
After finishing his classes, meeting Sebastian at the atelier for final touches on his tuxedo, and grabbing some take-out as he does every Friday night, he is ready for bed. Finished with the usual skincare, he lays down and goes straight to Kurt's channel.
During the day, between breaks, he had watched several videos from the shorts section, which were faster and slightly aggressive but had not failed to give him tingles. Perhaps it’s seriously Kurt's voice and nothing else that soothes him.
Opening the playlists, he notices the "massages" playlist and immediately pounces on it, selecting the first result.
The video opens with the usual ornate microphone in the foreground against a soft blue background with flashes of warm light, and moments later Kurt's angelic face makes its entrance, instantly making Blaine smile.
"Hello..." whispers Kurt, prolonging the last vowel while fluttering his fingers. With his hands, he begins to gently stroke the fur lining the microphone, never taking his eyes off the camera, and Blaine can't help but get lost in them. "If you are new, welcome; or welcome back. My name is Kurt and I recommend you to wear your headphones for a better experience."
Already done, Blaine thinks, feeling his feet lose the accumulated heaviness of the day.
"As you may know, or, as you're about to know, I am a professional massage therapist," Kurt whispers, continuing to stroke the microphone alternating small snaps of his tongue and little tappings on the metal rod between it. "And, in fact, this is probably the most requested type of video on my channel, which I am always happy to accommodate. So," smiling and looking away for a few moments, he reaches for a pair of black gloves that he slowly slips on, creating a noise that releases a cascade of shivers and pleasure on Blaine's back. He watches Kurt smile for the camera as he massages his covered hands. "Relax your muscles, take a deep breath, get comfortable and, as always, focus on my voice. Enjoy."
Blaine would just be ready to let himself relax but decides to keep his eyes open to enjoy the image of Kurt. In the background, there is no longer the usual microphone, which is now in a smaller version attached to what appears to be Kurt's work uniform, but there is a massage table on which a beautiful black woman is sitting. She has her eyes closed and a vaguely embarrassed smile on her face. Kurt is massaging her shoulders, releasing a sound so powerful but at the same time so gentle that for Blaine it is as if he himself is receiving the massage. Without realizing it, he has just moaned.
"Hello again," Kurt says in his lovely, caressing voice. "Here we are, this time in the company of my best friend Mercedes."
"Hello," whispers the girl, smiling. Blaine smoothly notices the chills on her radiant skin. How envious he is of this girl.
Kurt sprays a few drops of oil on his hands, resuming massaging his friend. This time, also on her neck, behind her ears and collarbones. "Oh, it smells so nice," Mercedes murmurs. Kurt smiles. "It's lavender. For those who don't know, lavender is rich in antibacterial and antifungal properties; it has sedative properties; it's a natural anti-inflammatory and pain reliever. And the color is beautiful. Color that looks great on my friend Mercedes," he continues in a whisper, reaching out to leave a light kiss on her friend's cheek, who smiles, wrinkling her nose adorably. "Thanks, babe."
"But back to us," Kurt says, continuing to imprint oil into the girl's skin. "Mercedes has just returned from England, where she has spent the last few weeks performing in the West End as Effie White in Dreamgirls," he says, barely slipping his voice due to excitement for his friend. But it doesn't bother Blaine, who smiles as if Mercedes is also his friend and he is proud of her. Kurt clears his throat, resuming whispering professionally.
The video continues with some brief recounting of Mercedes' experience, which is followed by explanations of the various massage techniques Kurt uses on his friend's body.
Blaine, at least forty minutes into the video, is so engrossed in the story that he believes he is going to have yet another sleepless night, having been distracted by the video's protagonists, but he is wrong. Because slowly, Kurt's melodious voice, his mere comfortable and soothing presence, like a balm for his soul, for the second night in two days, accompanies him to a deep and peaceful sleep without nightmares.
*
It's been about two weeks, and if Blaine thought he would have to resort to a touch of smoke in order to finally get back to relaxation and a good night's sleep, since Kurt has become part of his routine, he has realized that probably no drug will ever rise to his level.
With his caressing, gentle voice; his sweet, calming smile around which form those two dimples that Blaine, red with embarrassment in the privacy of his room, always thinks he wants to kiss.
With those blue eyes, now almost familiar, that in slumber hold him suspended, as if he were floating in a sea of warm water and then, slowly, with his eyes closed, he surrenders to the docile, never fierce waves.
With that alabaster skin of his, at the sight so sweet, almost to savor, discovering that he's like cream under his tongue.
…Blaine is screwed, in short.
He has become infatuated with a person online, a person whom, perhaps, he might even safely know if only his social anxiety was not so... intrusive.
Kurt is so appreciated by his audience. With more than half a million members, he certainly wouldn't look at someone like him. Although his comments are always appreciated by Kurt himself, with his constant destructive thoughts, he cannot help but believe that it means nothing to him.
Blaine wants to be close to him, though. In whatever way he can find, he needs Kurt's presence in his life. Therefore, after these two weeks spent watching almost every video on his channel, he decides to create a Patreon profile to support Kurt's talent and gamble that tiny, tiny chance of getting noticed.
*
"Welcome to another live," whispers Kurt, one Sunday afternoon a few days later. The background against which he records video for Patreon is not the same one everyone sees. It's a smaller space, with what looks like a black sheet behind it covered with little white stars, like a galaxy, and the microphone has, on either side, two pairs of very realistic ears because, surprising to Blaine, the major requests Kurt gets on Patreon are very– strange.
During the live streams, which Kurt holds every other day for his patrons, requests are made in the chatroom and Kurt performs them. At times, Blaine himself is disgusted by what he reads and embarrassed for Kurt, but the latter is not overly upset. He simply reminds members of his subscription rules, emphasizing that special requests are welcome, with triggers of all kinds, but without descending into gore or porn.
It's written all over his page, but many people ignore it. The chatroom is full of idiots asking him to strip or do sexual things. Kurt avoids them and tries not to give them visibility, and sometimes Blaine can clearly see from his face how bored or annoyed he is by these requests. Like today.
"Puckzilla asks "repeat my name and tell me I'm a good boy, please," um–" Blaine notices his expression and would sincerely like to comment on how ridiculous this is, but these people have paid for a subscription, and if Kurt's okay with it, everyone's okay with it, right?
"Okay, um– I hope everything goes well in your life, Noah. Anyway, here's your request," Kurt murmurs, not sounding entirely convinced. "Noah, Noah," whispers Kurt, moving slowly from right to left, murmuring into both the silicone ears of the microphone . "Noah, you're a good boy; you're such a good boy, Noah," Kurt continues, alternating between little snaps of the tongue and kitty licking on the lobes. Blaine really hates to admit how much this weird thing is relaxing him.
In the minute and a half that follows, time in which Kurt carries out this Puckzilla request, Blaine takes the opportunity to read more comments.
@cootmenk: you're a fucking twink. God, what I would do to you. Why don't you take your clothes off? Show yourself.
@bigboyazimio: do a roleplay where you're a horny cheerleader and you're in love with a quarterback named Adam
@walter1961: you are beautiful. Aren't you interested in mature men?
Blaine has chills, and not of pleasure. He'd like to smack all these people who dare to disrespect Kurt like this.
@bdander: why don't you stop writing such obscenities and let Kurt do his job? You're fucking sick.
Blaine, caught up in anger, does not realize that Kurt is reading random comments, catching, among them, his own.
"This one says 'why don't you stop–' huh, bdander… I know this username…" sighs Kurt, rereading the message. "Oh, Blaine! It's you!" smiles Kurt, continuing with the whispers. "My favorite commentator," he smiles, blushing slightly.
Blaine, hearing himself mentioned in front of everyone by that tender, little blushing face, cannot help but kick his feet up in the air, smug and excited at the thought that Kurt has noticed him. A few moments later, once he has quelled his anger over the horrendous comments in the chatroom and freaked out that his crush recognized him, he responds with a red heart emoji. It may be nothing, but it's everything.
*
Blaine tries to attend as many livestreams as possible. Mainly to see Kurt, enjoy his company and relax, but also to try to defend his name from the creepy assholes under his videos.
Fortunately, in general, the requests Kurt fulfills are mostly normal. Blaine never has any special requests, and if he does, they are always centered on Kurt and his life.
Blaine asks him about his work, what he likes to do in his spare time when he is not recording, his interests. He never aims at overly personal questions; he doesn't want to scare Kurt away, but he does want to know. He genuinely wants to get to know Kurt, and if this is the way to do it, then welcome. If he crosses boundaries, it will be Kurt's interest to let him know.
The latter, however, is always happy to answer his questions. Out of hundreds of livestream participants, or in the comments section of Youtube, Kurt always sees Blaine's comments. It is as if Kurt purposely seeks his presence. Blaine hopes he’s not making everything up in his head.
Many of Kurt's followers, the more friendly and easygoing ones, have begun to tease them, and Blaine initially didn't do it on purpose, but he is beginning to enjoy the attention.
@bdander: Wonderful video as usual, Kurt. I had no idea that I would fall in love with the tracing trigger. Watching your hands move so slowly, creating these sounds, these lovely noises. Everything is so soothing. Better than any chamomile tea. And oh, your voice -- by now, I don't think I need to say anything more about your voice.
Sometimes -- you move me, Kurt.
@picaresque: oh my god, just ask him out! Kurt, please accept
@sirensong: could you please meet and do an asmr together? You would make many dreams and fantasies come true
@IndiraASMR: We asmr creators look forward to your wedding day.
@kurtstingles: You’re always so nice and sweet ❤️
The days, however, go by and Kurt and Blaine remain only a content creator and a devoted admirer and nothing more.
Blaine gets very busy at school, with exams to prepare and projects with other professors to accomplish. He is trying not to give up on his friends, working to regain a rhythm that, until recently, he did not even dream he could have again. He has returned to smiling more often at his reflection, to eating better, to being more confident. He feels he owes it all to Kurt, but doesn't know how to tell him.
It has been a few days since he has caught a livestream or watched a video Kurt posted. Lately, he is so tired that right after eating dinner, he just sits on the couch and gets sleepy right away. He likes that a lot (it’s a good sign that he’s getting sleepy on his own now), but he feels like he has left something behind.
The weekend before Christmas, days when by now what there was to do has been done and everything else is talked about in the new year, Blaine finally has the time to rest in Kurt's company and distract himself.
He remembers that Kurt, in an old livestream and Youtube video, had said he was leaving the channel for a few days to visit his family at Christmas, and that today is the last one before the holidays; he cannot miss it.
When he logs onto Patreon, he notices that the livestream has already started twenty minutes ago. There are many comments but not as many as usual, a sign that quite a few people have already left for winter break or are busy for the impending Christmas.
But that is not what strikes Blaine. What immediately jumps out at him is the look on Kurt's face. Usually, during live sessions, Kurt talks a lot, narrates; but what Blaine has been seeing for at least ten minutes is an absent Kurt. Sad, even. From the comments, no one seems to notice. They are all showering him with compliments on the scratching he is doing; a trigger that, despite everything, Blaine still struggles to like.
He hates to see Kurt's beautiful baby blue eyes so dull. He hates to see him so… disconnected.
@bdander: hey, what's with the long face? Smile. It's even better than scratching :)
"...so, here. I'm going to visit my father and stepmother, and my stepbrother will join us too. We're going to spend Christmas with family, a simple thing," whispers Kurt in a flat voice, continuing to do slow scratching on the boxes of his designer shoe collection.
"Trilemma asks, why are you wearing a girl's shirt? Um– Trilemma, honey, we are now in the 21st century, fashion has no gender. Thank you for your concern," Kurt replies, clearly annoyed. Blaine really likes the shirt he's wearing.
"What's with the long face? Smile," whispers Kurt, continuing to read. His eyes roam the screen and, instantly, seem to light up and regain color. "Blaine!" he exclaims, perhaps a little too loudly for an asmr session. "I mean, um, sorry–" he murmurs, suppressing a laugh. "Hi, Blaine. Long time since I've read a comment from you. I've... I've missed you," blows Kurt, sweetly, as if there weren't at least three hundred people intent on watching him.
@bdander: you too. I've missed you, too.
*
The live session is over and it's dinner time for Blaine. He was already planning to make himself some soup, and by mid-morning he had gotten ahead of himself with chopping vegetables.
He is correcting an essay by one of his students on the artist Hieronymus Bosch when suddenly he hears the sound of a notification. He does not immediately rush to check it; he wants to finish the essay. First comes business, then pleasure. And also because he knows that once he gets his hands on the phone, he will start scrolling randomly for at least an hour.
About fifteen minutes later, though, after putting away his school supplies and setting the table for dinner, he remembers the notification and goes to check. When the name "kurtstingles" lights up on the screen, he nearly throws the phone.
@kurtstingles: hello, Blaine. It's Kurt.
@kurtstingles: I wanted to apologize for the reaction I got in live. But I… I really missed you… I don't even know if that makes sense…
@kurtstingles: oh my god, forget what I just said. I feel so ridiculous. I'm sorry, I really am. Sorry. You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.
Blaine’s heart is pounding. He doesn't quite understand what's going on but, before it's too late, he responds to the private chat.
@bdander: Kurt! Please! No need to apologize!
@bdander: it’s strange to talk to you in private, but it’s nice :)
@bdander: did you message me for any particular reason?
It’s not long before a new message from Kurt arrives. Blaine barely has time to set his full plate down on the table before he hears the sound of notification again. Was he, like Blaine, also anxiously awaiting for his reply?
@kurtstingles: actually, I just wanted to talk to you a bit...
@kurtstingles: but I understand if you're busy...
@bdander: I would love to talk to you! If it wasn't clear, I adore you and what you do! Talking with you is– an honor!
@kurtstingles: :) you are exaggerating. I'm nothing special. But thank you from the bottom of my heart. You’re so sweet...
Blaine hesitates, then asks,
@bdander: is everything ok? You seem a little down. Even in the livestream you seemed distant.
@kurtstingles: [is writing]
@bdander: you don’t have to tell me, if it makes you uncomfortable
@kurtstingles: are you sure I can talk to you?
@bdander: very, very sure.
@kurtstingles: [is writing]
@kurtstingles: actually… can I call you? It seems so strange to me that you know my voice.
@kurtstingles: I'd love to hear your voice, too! If you'd like.
@bdander: what if you don't like it? Will you still want to talk to me? :)
@kurtstingles: I don't know why, Blaine, but I have the feeling that I would love to talk to you anyway.
*
"So your dream was to be a theater actor? What made you want to be a massage therapist? I don't think I've ever heard you say that in videos," Blaine asks, nibbling on oatmeal cookies after having dinner along with Kurt on the phone.
Kurt's voice, the natural one without whispers and murmurs, it's so clear and melodious, squeaky at times, but Blaine loves it. He would spend hours listening to him talk, even about absolutely nothing. He thinks it's a sound that simply conveys tranquility to him.
"Well, on my socials, except on the page of the wellness center where I work, I try to never reveal too much information. I do a lot of fantasy work, especially here on Youtube. And… it actually happened by accident. I was about twenty-two years old, preparing for an off, off Broadway show when one day, during rehearsal, I made a move that literally made me cry and scream in pain–"
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Kurt," Blaine murmurs.
"Mmh... Yeah, well, at first I was too, but then I started doing therapy to try to get my dislocated shoulder back in place, and as I got into the spa and wellness world, I totally fell in love with it,” he says. Blaine can hear the sincerity in his voice. "I thought that in time I would regret it, but I did not. I am proud of my profession, I love my colleagues and what I do every day. I always meet new people, with some of them I am still friends to this day. I make good money, I am satisfied! And that's all that matters to me!"
Blaine smiles. "And then I discovered asmr and became totally obsessed with it.” There’s a pause. "Blaine, can I ask you something?"
Blaine is so taken by Kurt's voice that he is forced to shake his head to concentrate and respond. "Sure, Kurt. You can ask me anything you want."
Kurt hesitates for a few moments. "Do you think– do you really think everything you write under my videos?" he asks in a whisper.
Blaine swallows noisily. He doesn't know where this conversation will take him, much less what and if there is or can ever be anything between them, but he feels he must try. He has to try to be happy by putting himself first once, and, if that involves laying himself bare to the one who is basically a stranger but who, in such a short time, has given him so much, then he wants to take a chance.
"...Blaine? Are you still here?" murmurs Kurt again.
"Yes. Yes, I'm here. Um–"
"You don't have to answer if–"
"No! No, I want to answer. It's just– I'm afraid you might think I'm crazy," says Blaine, smiling sarcastically, even though Kurt can't see him.
"I really think I want to hear you say what I hope you want to say."
"Which is? That what I write under your videos is all true? That I love the sound of your voice, your mannerisms, your grace and elegance? That thanks to you I have taken back my life when I didn't even know I had lost it? That you calmed me down, gave me serenity and joy? Is that what you would like me to say?"
He hears Kurt pull up with his nose. "Y-Yes, I think that was it."
Blaine smiles, letting a little tear fall as well. "Well, then it's all true. I– I think I really like you, Kurt. From the first moment I saw you."
There is a few moments of silence before Kurt speaks again. "Can I tell you something now?"
Blaine smiles. "Of course you can."
"When I didn't see you in the comments or in the chatroom... I thought you got bored of me and stopped following me. That's why you saw me so down in the livestream today. I really missed you. I had– I had built up this fantasy, in my head, where you would one day out of nowhere write to me that you were hopelessly in love with me and– and not hearing from you for days has– okay, I sound like an idiot, I'll stop," Kurt says, laughing and dragging Blaine with him. "Ugh, I have to go, Blaine. I'm leaving tomorrow in the afternoon and I still have to pack my suitcase and it's midnight, I need to rest!"
Blaine casts a glance at the clock above the kitchen door. "Midnight? Is it midnight at your place, too?”
"Yes! Why? Where do you live, Blaine?"
"I live in Brooklyn!"
Kurt gasps. "I– I live in Manhattan! Oh my– I don't know for what reason I had imagined you were from California!"
Blaine bursts out laughing. "It's my tanned skin that fooled you. I'm actually from Ohio!"
"Shut up, me too! What the hell!"
Blaine laughs again. "Oh my God! Was it meant to be?"
"I don't know, Blaine, but I'm really glad you were suffering from insomnia and thought I was professional enough to get you through it."
Blaine smiles. His face is seriously hurting but he doesn't care. "Um– hey, Kurt?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"Will you be busy in about a month?"
"I really don't know. Why?"
"My brother is getting married to my best friend. Would you like to go with me?"
*
"Hello..." whispers Kurt, tapping and gently stroking his microphone, smiling at the camera. "If you are new, welcome; or welcome back. My name is Kurt and I recommend you to wear your headphones for a better experience."
By now Blaine knows this intro by heart, and each time Kurt does not fail to make him shiver. He rubs his arms, taming the goose bumps, and resumes listening to Kurt.
“Summer is just around the corner. The air is warmer. Flowers are fragrant, white clouds fill the blue sky. There is no more room for darkness, cold and fear. Let me take you on this journey of wellness and relaxation,” Kurt continues, whispering with his lips attached to the microphone and gently snapping his tongue against his palate. His hands swing slowly in front of the lens, as if he is caressing the viewer. Blaine looks at him and his eyelids closes automatically. He feels a wide smile make room on his face, as if he has just inhaled a tranquilizer. He is almost ready for sleep.
"I'd like to inaugurate the new, warm season with this new series of video I've called "trigger fear", so take a deep breath, lie down peacefully, and enjoy your stay," he concludes, smiling one last time at the lens before the frame changing.
Blaine is already ecstatic. The window is open, the gentle air comes in caressing his heated skin. He loves afternoon naps.
"Welcome back," Kurt smiles at the camera, positioning himself behind the chair on which the video host is sitting. "For this first video of trigger fear, let's start with the one person who still persists in hating scratching: my boyfriend. Let's see if this session will end well or in tears," Kurt smiles, leaving a caress under the boy's chin.
"I'm afraid it will end badly," whispers his boyfriend, looking sidelong at the object Kurt will use to practice scratching on it.
"Shut up, Blaine, dear," whispers Kurt, beginning to scratch gently with his manicured nails near his ears.
"Are you looking at it again?" he hears a voice coming from his right. "Change the video– come on, we recorded it three weeks ago," Kurt complains, smiling, lying down on the bed beside him.
Blaine snorts. "I hate you. I was about to fall asleep," he replies, sketching a smile. He reaches out to leave a kiss on Kurt's bare shoulder, savoring the freshly showered skin beneath his lips.
Kurt rolls his eyes. "And to think that I was going to suggest other ways for you to relax. It'll mean I'll have to do it mys–" but he can't finish the sentence, because Blaine has paused the video and drawn Kurt to himself, kissing him passionately. Video be damned.
"You're my favorite trigger," smiles Blaine on his lips.
Kurt’s all smiles back. "I know!"
*
@poleaxeadventurously: is this bdander??? Did they actually end up together??? Omg???
@mercyjonessings: ugh! I don't know where to look, you're both too beautiful.
@moonlighter87: Blaine is seriously gorgeous. And I'm a straight man! I think.
@bdander: I love you, baby, but I think scratching is just not for me... :(
@kurtstingles: @bdander screw you 💔
I won't give up so easily!
ps, I love you, too
@sebastardsmythe: Kurt you're fantastic! I still think about that relax massage you gave me on my wedding day. I was almost tempted not to show up to my husband and go to sleep. Also thank you for taking the stick out of Blaine's boring ass
@wildkitty: next video with Quinn Fabray, please. We don't want to see Blaine's triangular eyebrows. Bb you know I love you xoxo see u at school