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It’s late when they finally leave Blaine’s house. Not another car on the road, the radio playing straight through music with no commercials, the sky cloudy and dark but calm. Kurt left his car at the school, so he offered to come back in a few hours to pick him up. He doesn’t mind. He’s mostly dreading the few hours they’ll now have to spend apart.
All the lights are off in Kurt’s house when they pull up, and Kurt stares out the window with wide eyes, swallowing thickly before turning back to Blaine, looking a bit nervous.
His nervousness spreads to Blaine, feeling it thrum up his fingers as they tap on the steering wheel. “You’re not . . . you’re not gonna get like, in trouble for this, are you?”
Kurt’s lips twitch into a smirk, smug and perfect on his face. “Not if I don’t tell anybody where I was.”
“Okay, just don’t get grounded on my behalf,” he sighs, and puts his hand over Kurt’s. “Don’t want my rebellious tendencies to rub off on you.”
Kurt’s hand goes still, and they both look up at each other at the same time, both breathless like they’re still back in that moment together, like they’re both thinking the same thing.
It’s less than a second before they’re touching each other again, mouths a bit too harsh and hungry and desperate, Blaine’s hands travelling up Kurt’s body until they’re tangled in his hair.
But if he keeps doing this he won’t make it that far, drive ten feet and then have to stop, come back, be with Kurt again, so he pulls back a little, slides his hand down and holds the side of Kurt’s face, kisses his cheek and sighs. Either from relief or exhaustion or because he still can’t really breathe around Kurt.
Kurt’s completely silent, not even his inhale-exhales making a sound, and he’s not making any movements indicating that he wants to leave, just staring at Blaine like he doesn’t know who or what Blaine is.
“Hey,” Blaine says quietly, a little hoarsely, nudging Kurt’s side with his elbow. “What?”
Kurt frowns a bit, looking focused but confused as his brows pinch together, and then he looks at Blaine and smiles.
“I’m just - a bit surprised that this is all happening,” Kurt says, barely above a whisper. “I was ready to live the rest of my life alone and ignored until you came along.”
First all he hears is the sincerity in Kurt’s voice, genuine and deep with fear and hope.
Then his selective hearing kicks in, picking out only a few words, because those few words are the codes to his heart, words that make it stop.
The rest of my life.
A life can be long. Doesn’t Kurt realize how long a life is?
There are a lot of days in the rest of a life, a lot of days to mess up, make mistakes, to break and break things until they can’t be repaired.
Maybe that’s not what Kurt means. He can’t say the rest of my life and mean Blaine, mean together, he must mean that Blaine’s just the first guy to make him think differently, to notice him, but in the grand scheme of things this is just the beginning, isn’t it? It’ll change, won’t it?
Call him paranoid, but this is just -
Too good to be true.
He realizes that Kurt’s staring at him, in this moment of panic, looking calm and peaceful and beautiful, but completely unaware.
He nods and smiles, and doesn’t voice his alarm or his fears and says instead, “I’m glad I did.”
-
He doesn’t sleep. How could he sleep?
Kurt was in this bed. Right next to him. Right underneath him. Touching him and kissing him and -
No, he won’t think it, because it’s too soon and they just can’t feel that for each other because the rest of a life is too long to feel that for each other forever. Even if it is the most amazing and wonderful and purest thing Blaine’s ever felt.
He’s a child of divorce. He’s seen his parents go from being in love to being broken, to living in separate towns and fighting over the phone every night about trivial things like money and his education and where he’s going to spend the holidays. So yeah, even if that’s what he’s feeling, and that’s what Kurt’s feeling, it doesn’t last forever, no matter how bad he wants (and needs) it to.
It’s only been a handful of days, really. Kurt refuses to let go now but nobody can hold on forever. Blaine’s just the first guy to come along, to notice Kurt, and he just happens to be worst example of a human being, and you don’t just hold on forever to the first person to love you, to show you what love even is, not when that person is Blaine.
This is all so new and all so crazy and it could all break so, so easily.
But so far, trying and hoping has gotten him exactly where he wanted, so if he keeps doing that, then maybe it won’t, maybe it won’t find a way to break.
-
Despite not getting a second of sleep, despite the voice in his head repeating what he knows, when he sees Kurt that morning he feels nothing but hope and happiness. Kurt looks so fresh and clean, like he got a full eight hours and then a professional stylist to put him together, and he can’t believe he ever saw him so disheveled last night.
“How’d sneaking back in go?” he asks, once Kurt’s in the car, safely buckled in.
Kurt groans and throws his head back. “Finn covered for me thankfully, but then he thought he’d lecture me on the importance of our curfews in place of my dad.”
“Gross.”
“Tell me about it,” Kurt sighs, and then looks over at Blaine and smiles. “And my dad wants to know why my car is still at the school, but he had to go to work before I could even come up with an excuse.”
Blaine shrugs, focusing more on driving. “Eh, another problem for another day.”
That’s the least of his worries right now.
They get to the school and he can’t get out, can’t make himself want to walk into that building and leave Kurt, still feeling hopeful and happy and overtired but alive, afraid that if he leaves Kurt again it’ll give him more time to think about things that he shouldn’t.
He grabs Kurt’s arm, more urgently than he planned, and Kurt just seems to know and falls into him, close to him, letting Blaine put his arms around his waist and lifting his own arms to wrap around Blaine’s neck.
If somebody could tell him why he can’t stop kissing Kurt he’d be very appreciative.
But he still wouldn’t understand.
Maybe it’s because he knows there might only be a few left, that kissing him is almost an illegal act, something that should have already been outlawed before it started. He has to kiss him, keep kissing him, has to keep him close as he can just in case this really is too good to be true and it finds a way to end.
You get what you deserve.
He already knows he deserves nothing.
“Blaine,” Kurt gasps, eyes bright and wide when they pull away. “Class. We have to go to -”
Blaine cuts him off with a kiss, multiple pecks against his lips because he loves the sound Kurt makes in the brief milliseconds they’re apart.
“Screw class.”
“We can’t screw class.”
“Why not?”
“Blaine.”
“Fine,” he says, pulling back and huffing. “Guess I’ll go get an education. But I won’t have fun doing it.”
Kurt rolls his eyes and laughs, patting the side of Blaine’s face. “Dream of me, it’ll get you through it.”
Kurt gets out of the car before he can say anything.
Doesn’t he know that’s all that Blaine does?
-
Side by side but not hand in hand, they walk into the school together and Blaine realizes just how hard it’ll be to keep feeling this way, safe and contained with all his wants protected.
Back into the land of chaos and criticism and hurt and noise, the bubble he’s been living in since yesterday pops, and with no more protection, it’s time to be defensive. It’s so delicate now, want and hope on full display, anybody could break it for him if he’s not careful.
“Kurt!”
They both look at each other with eyes full of panic and irritation, both of them knowing exactly who the voice belongs to, both of them knowing what the tone of her voice means.
They turn around at the same time, and Blaine notices the way Kurt steps a bit closer to him, a little more in front of him.
“Rachel,” Kurt says politely, but the clench of his jaw says something different. “Good morning.”
“Kurt, I need to talk to you,” Rachel says promptly, standing up straight and defiant, and then she catches sight of Blaine, says quickly, “Hello, Blaine.” and turns back to Kurt. “Finn said you didn’t get in until late last night. As your best friend, I think it’s only right that you explain to me in detail where you were and what you were doing.”
He wants to take Kurt’s hand and run, away from her and her prying eyes and clawing hands.
“Rachel!” Kurt snaps, looking quickly from her to Blaine.
“What?” Rachel squawks, looking genuinely offended. “I tell you what I do!”
“If you haven’t noticed I’m plugging my ears and screaming when you do it!”
Rachel’s face darkens, then brightens, and fuck does he hate when she smiles like that, wide and wicked and knowing and taunting, and she jumps a little, hands in a tight ball against her chest as she squeals.
“Are you guys together? Kurt, is he your boyfriend?”
He’s not physically holding Kurt’s hand he realizes, but if he were he’d drop it. He drops it in his mind. He starts running in his mind. If Kurt answers her question he’s screwed, because that’s just like saying yes to trying for forever, isn’t it? And that’s not really possible.
“He is standing right here,” Blaine cuts in, stepping in front of Kurt. “And no, I’m not.”
“But -” Rachel squeaks, looking helpless and frantic and excited all at once.
“Come on, Kurt. I’ll walk you to class.”
He pulls him away by the hand, regretting every word and every decision, regretting holding Kurt’s hand because now he doesn’t want to let go.
Kurt’s silent the whole walk, Blaine notices, but he doesn’t do anything because there’s just nothing to do.
They get to Kurt’s homeroom, and Blaine smiles at him, but it’s a blank smile that offers nothing, and he so badly wants to offer everything, wants this to be fine, so he pokes Kurt in the side and tries to smile brighter.
“See you at lunch?”
Kurt smiles the same way, blank and empty, and nods. “See you at lunch.”
-
When he gets to glee club, Finn is sitting next to Kurt, taking up his spot.
He doesn’t get mad or anything when he has to move to the back of the room, not when Kurt gives him an apologetic smile.
He does get frustrated however, when Rachel jumps up and snags the open chair next to him, because she wouldn’t usually do that . . . and Finn wouldn’t usually sit next to Kurt, so he has a feeling something’s up.
“Rachel,” he says in greeting, voice rough, annoyed, sliding down his seat and crossing his arms. “What can I do for you?”
He’s well aware the the rest of the club keep looking back at him, at Kurt, like they’re a piece of a puzzle that they can’t figure out. He’ll just do what he always does, or what he at least tries to do, and ignores them.
As long as he knows the truth then sticking to that plan won’t be too hard.
He shrugs it off, stays slumped in his chair, and doesn’t care and only maybe sort of wants to sucker punch them all in the nose, but really, he’s calm.
“I need to speak to you about Kurt,” Rachel says quietly, sliding her seat closer to his. “And you can’t get mad at me. Promise?”
He feels every muscle tense and twist, but he doesn’t show his distress, just rolls his head to the side and stares at her. “I don’t really make promises.”
Rachel makes a considering face, frowning, then pleading. “Please?”
He’s not sure why she’s making that face, why she sounds so worried, because she never sounds worried unless it’s about something that involves her. But if it’s about Kurt then he’s worried too, so he sighs and shrugs. “Fine. Go ahead.”
Rachel turns her entire body to face him, hand on the back of the chair in a tight grip, and she takes a deep breath, looks around them, then leans in and whispers, “Do you still like Kurt?”
It’s not really a whisper, more of a hiss, more of a declaration to the entire world.
And it does nothing but confuse him.
“What?” he asks, sitting up straighter, looking around a bit more nervous than he was just seconds ago. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you were quick to deny the fact that you’re boyfriends today,” Rachel says, no longer even attempting to whisper. “And then at lunch you barely spoke to each other. Do you not like him like that anymore?”
He crosses his arms tighter, tries not to let her peel him apart, because he refuses to be shaped or touched by Rachel Berry.
“What’s it to you?” he asks, voice cold and guarded.
“I’m looking out for Kurt. That’s what a best friend does.”
He laughs. “Yeah, sure.”
Rachel’s expression hardens, looking determined and frustrated, more so than usual. “Look, Kurt won’t tell me what happened between the two of you -”
Without even looking at her, he cuts in, “Because it’s nobody’s business but ours.”
“- but I know something must have happened, because he’s acting differently. And Blaine, I know him. He wouldn’t have done anything with you if he didn’t truly . . . believe in what you have. I’m just making sure it’s the same for you, too.”
Speechless.
Oxygenless?
Completely and entirely void?
He doesn’t know. His mind is blank and he doesn’t know a single word in the English language and Rachel’s staring at him expectantly, and he doesn’t know what to say or think or do or even how to breathe.
Then Rachel doesn’t sound demanding, or rude, or worried, she just sounds sad.
“You don’t know what you mean to Kurt. We’ve all had to watch him for years, you don’t - he deserves someone great. I’m not trying to be nosy, I’m just - worried that he’s only falling for you because you’re the first guy to show him compassion,” Rachel says quietly, head tipped low. “If you don’t feel the same way, if he’s investing in something that isn’t going to happen, he has a right to know.”
Then a million words enter his head, fill up his chest, or maybe it’s just three words but they’re three words he can’t say but they’re three words he means, so entirely completely.
He stays silent.
Three words he knows he will never get to tell Kurt, because he can’t feel this for Kurt.
“Oh, come on, Rachel.” Santana leans back in her chair, turning around to face the both of them, looking disgusted with whatever it is she’s looking at. “We already knew Kurt would jump at the first gay guy to walk through our doors. He’s not going to find anything better. It’s a match made in heaven. Or hell. Or wherever Anderson comes from.”
Rachel’s entire body jerks, expression heating up and sharpening as she spits, “Stay out of this, Santana, this isn’t about you!”
“I’m just saying, leave them to get their mack on, because nobody better is coming Kurt’s way for a while!”
He’s still silent.
He hasn’t slept yet, been awake for over twenty-four hours and his mind has been buzzing non-stop with thoughts of Kurt, and touching Kurt like that only ignited something deep and dark and buried in his chest and he thought for sure it was going to explode but -
He feels it burn out.
Their words water and his heart the flame.
They’re both right.
He knew that was it. This entire time. Kurt’s not afraid of him because he doesn’t have anything to compare him to. He doesn’t know what a monster even looks like so how could he identify Blaine? He’s never felt anybody else’s touch, of course he’d see Blaine’s as gentle and right, but when he eventually does he’ll look at Blaine and just know that he is everything wrong. If Blaine were to say I love you to Kurt then Kurt might just eat that right up because he’s hungry for it and there’s nobody else to give it to him. Not yet.
That’s it.
Blaine’s just the first guy to walk through these doors with the capability to feel for Kurt the way Kurt needs to be felt for. Doesn’t mean he’s the one meant to do it.
He already knew all of this, because there’s just no way - no way that Kurt could really honestly feel the same, not truthfully, not really for him, not forever.
You don’t get what you want you get what you deserve he knows this he knows this -
It’s fine, it has to be fine, I have to be fine, this is just how it’s meant to be you weren’t really ever supposed to end up with me.
Well, it was nice while it lasted. A good day or so, not long enough but as long as he’ll ever get.
“Can you guys chill out for like a good five seconds and get your facts straight?” he snaps, more aggressive than the voice in his head, drawing the attention of everyone around them. “Me and Kurt aren’t anything except friends, because otherwise he’d be stuck with you sad sacks. Okay?”
Everyone in the entire world could be watching him, he wouldn’t notice, because all he can feel is his heavily beating heart and Kurt’s eyes on him. And he looks so drained, pale, terrified in a way that he’s never looked around Blaine.
Yesterday was just hours ago really, yesterday everything felt held together with hope, felt almost permanent. Funny how fast the truth can change everything.
“Right, Kurt?” His voice shakes a bit, but he doesn’t look away from him, doesn’t breathe or close his eyes like he so badly wants to. “We’re pretty much nothing?”
Kurt stares back, and for a moment Blaine hopes the same way he hoped yesterday. Maybe Kurt will fight, will keep holding on, won’t let Blaine let go, but he just blinks his eyes quickly and nods.
“Right.”
He expects some sort of relief, but nothing comes. With this knocked out of his hands, he has nothing to grab onto, and he’s only just now realizing how bad he needs something to hold, so he grabs onto his racing thoughts and tries to convince himself again. Nothing. Nothing. Can’t be anything can only be nothing because that’s what Blaine deserves, and Kurt deserves everything.
Kurt’s the brightest thing in the whole world. Somebody better will notice him soon.
-
He runs out of glee club the second he’s allowed to. Down the hall, each foot step quicker than the last until he’s at his locker, tearing it open and shoving things inside, pulling things out, but he thinks it doesn’t even matter because he might not ever show up here again. Another school transfer doesn’t sound so bad right now, maybe getting expelled would be a good thing, he can’t be here anymore because his failure paints the walls, Kurt walks these halls, he can’t keep seeing him every day knowing that they can’t they won’t they aren’t -
But he hears footsteps, slow and quiet against the floor, like a countdown.
He’s not ready though, could never prepare for this, maybe should have thought out his actions before just doing them, because of course Kurt wouldn’t just surrender at the start of a war.
“So,” Kurt says, sounding calm and collected, and Blaine doesn’t have to look at him to know his eyes are like ice. “Are we going to talk about that, or are you going to pretend I don’t exist now, too?”
Not prepared, not thinking, not know what to do, he steels himself, stands a bit taller and locks all his muscles down and says just as calmly, still not looking at him, “Talk about what?”
More insistent but still quiet, Kurt says, “What just happened in there.”
He shrugs, and sticks to his plan, doesn't care, or at least acts like he doesn’t. “Nothing to talk about.”
Something in the air strikes and then changes, like a match, burning up and suddenly hot and Kurt grabs onto that spot above Blaine’s elbow and tugs him, not hard or demanding but rather desperate.
“Stop being so - Blaine, look at me.”
So he looks, and he regrets it, because Kurt doesn’t look calm or collected, he looks as broken as Blaine feels.
“I’m not - I’m not going to let you just deny me like that in front of everyone when - I know we’re not on the same page but I thought - are you ashamed of me?”
God, just - he wants to sink into the ground and disappear, because no, never, never ever ever.
“No.”
“Then why -”
“Kurt, you’re confused. We were both confused, and I took advantage of that,” he says briskly, fast and snapping and shrugging Kurt’s hand off. “Me and you? We just - we can’t be anything, that’s not how it works.”
He knows he’s not making sense, that Kurt deserves a sonnet or a song or an entire symphony and Blaine just can’t give that to him because he can’t even string together a few words and have them make sense.
“So you -” Kurt takes a step back and looks down, pulling his arms across his chest like he’s guarding himself, from Blaine. “You were just using me last night then, weren’t you?”
And that kicks Blaine in the chest, where he’s already bleeding. But he doesn’t deny it, because at least that makes sense, even if it’s not true.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Kurt whips his head up and glares and snaps, loud but still quiet, “It meant something to me.”
This is all just burning up further, and he wants to blow out the flame but it’s a wildfire now and nothing and nobody can stop it or put it out and he already knows the destruction won’t be repairable. It’s like just as quickly as he fell in love with Kurt, he’s being forced to fall out. Maybe quicker.
He says quietly, “I know. Me too.”
Kurt looks down at his feet and holds himself and the distance between them says everything that words can’t really say.
“I’m not going to actively fight you, Blaine, because I don’t think I’ll win. I don’t know how else to - to show you or convince you, not when you don’t really want to hear it.”
He wants to step forward and put his arms around him, or maybe just hold his hand, the easiest thing in the world to do and yet his muscles won’t let him.
He can’t blame Kurt for not wanting to try anymore, because Blaine knows just how hard it is to try when you already know you’re going to fail.
He still wants to. A stupid part in his stupid brain still wants to. Or maybe it’s not his brain.
“Kurt, I think . . . I think we jumped into this too fast. I’m just - I’m just the first guy you’re going to meet, Kurt, I’m nothing. They’re right. That’s - that’s all this is. You deserve -” Somebody who actually believes that love can be a permanent thing and somebody who can actually try without failing and somebody who can care without worrying. “You deserve someone who can take you on a date and actually pay for it, or somebody who can sing with you, or - or somebody who isn’t so fucking afraid of stupid things like holding hands and kissing.”
Kurt looks up and bites his lip, arms hanging by his sides and hands curling and uncurling, looking like he’s one breath away from crumbling.
“I don’t expect any of that from you.”
He hates Kurt, he hates that Kurt just won’t quit even when he sounds like he is, making Blaine hope -
“I know that!” he yells, frustrated and angry and hurt and hopeful and desperate, and slams his locker door. “But it’s what you deserve!”
Kurt doesn’t even flinch, just takes a step closer and yells back, “I decide that Blaine, not you.”
He hits his fist against the metal door, feels the pain but doesn’t really register it, turning his back to Kurt and trying so hard to breathe.
“I can’t, Kurt - we - they’re right, we can’t -”
“Blaine -”
He turns around and looks at Kurt and hates everything, if he just stuck to the plan if he just ignored everything and everyone -
“What?”
“Can you stop being so stubborn and believe me for once? If you just walk away . . . can’t you just try?”
He scoffs and shakes his head, hand trembling where it’s planted against the lockers.
“I want to try. I want it to work, Kurt, but that’s exactly why it won’t.”
They just stand there and breathe and they don’t look at each other, and Blaine’s stupid brain is already thinking of ways to fix this, of what to say so he can step closer to Kurt and just erase this stupid day, hopeful with thoughts and dreams of what he wants.
“Well, thank you,” Kurt says, barely above a whisper, and starts taking small steps backwards. “I only wish you told me sooner.”
Stupid brain, telling him to try even though he knows they can’t, stupid brain making him reach out to grab Kurt’s hand, to make him stay even though he knows he can’t.
Kurt retracts his hand fast, and shakes his head, and looks so entirely defeated.
“No, don’t - it’s fine.”
The worst part is that Kurt sounds entirely believable, entirely honest. Like he’s quitting.
Kurt walks past him and away, and once he’s gone he thinks his hand really starts to hurt, the pain ringing through his knuckles and up his arms.
But it’s not the pain there that he’s really focused on.
He thought his heart was made up of concrete and steel. Turns out it’s just a bunch of glass and plastic, or paper and elastic.
Things that break.