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Kurt rushes home from work on Tuesday afternoon, making a vague excuse about a family emergency to get out of the 4 pm editorial meeting. He knows that Blaine was set to hear back from the casting office by 3 pm today, yet all his texts to Blaine have gone unanswered thus far. That means the news is either very good or very bad and either way, Kurt wants to be there for his husband.
He lets himself into their New York City apartment and tiptoes into the living room. He finds Blaine asleep on the couch with the TV on mute, surrounded by a mound of wadded tissues and a mostly empty melted pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream discarded on the coffee table. Even before he sits beside Blaine on the couch, Kurt knows the news isn’t good. His heart sinks at the thought, because Blaine could really use a win right about now.
Technically, Blaine’s been coping well as of late. His relationship with Kurt is strong and healthy, thanks to regular couples therapy, plenty of quality time, date nights, and consistent communication. Blaine’s depression has been in remission or something close to that for several months, well controlled by medication, long walks in the park with the puppy they recently adopted, and learning how to talk about what he’s feeling instead of keeping everything all bottled up. Since Blaine graduated from college, he’s found a regular gig composing music for a local theater. The pay’s not great but between his salary and what Kurt makes at Vogue, they’ve got enough money for rent and utilities plus enough left over for occasional splurges. All in all, they are in much better shape than they were a year ago.
Still, the one thing Blaine has really been missing is performing. He plays piano and sings show tunes at a couple of local bars a few times a month, but it’s not the same as the allure of the stage and the hum of a live audience on opening night. It took a while for Blaine to feel stable enough to risk going out for auditions again, fearful that any rejection might set him back on the road to recovery. Kurt must admit that the prospect had scared him, too. He’s aware what a fickle, cruel mistress Broadway can be. He’d seen it nearly eat Rachel alive, though she’s since gotten her confidence back. The thought of risking Blaine’s fragile psyche was and still is a terrifying thought.
In the end, he knew he had to trust Blaine and his judgment about when he was ready. Blaine’s the strongest person Kurt knows and one of the most talented performers he has ever met to boot, so hiding Blaine’s light away forever seemed selfish and misguided. To his great relief, when Blaine decided to go out for a role, he was seemingly welcomed back with open arms. He made it through four rounds of open auditions and two callbacks. When it was down to only himself and one other performer for a lead role in an off Broadway show likely to transition to Broadway if the previews went well, Kurt started to let himself hope for Blaine.
But now that he looks at Blaine’s exhausted, tear-stained face, still clutching a wad of damp Kleenex in his fist even as he sleeps, Kurt knows that the producers must have gone the other way. It doesn’t mean Blaine won’t find success on the stage in the near future and Kurt knows that. The important thing is making sure that Blaine knows that, too, that he sees this as only a small, stumbling block on his inevitable road to stardom. Kurt’s greatest fear is that this small rejection will somehow trigger a backslide for Blaine, will undo all the progress that they’ve made, separately and together over the past year. Kurt simply isn’t willing to let that happen.
For now, though, he tries to put his own fears out of his mind while he focuses on the immediate issue at hand. Blaine needs comfort and reassurance and a non-judgmental listening ear. He pulls Blaine’s curled up legs into his lap and covers them both with a blanket. Kurt is prepared to settle in and wait until Blaine wakes up and wants to talk, but the second he stretches out, Blaine starts to stir.
Blaine scrubs a hand over his face and sniffles before finally meeting Kurt’s gaze. “Hey you,” Kurt murmurs sympathetically.
“I didn’t get it,” Blaine says flatly before bursting into tears.
“Sweetheart,” Kurt sighs and immediately reaches for him, but Blaine rolls over facing away from him before Kurt can even get close. The tiny rejection stings, but Kurt reminds himself that right now isn’t about his needs but what’s best for Blaine. He settles for placing a hand on Blaine’s back, right between his shoulder blades and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Kurt sees Blaine shake his head. “What’s the point?” he says wearily.
“I mean there are lots of points. I think we’ve learned that keeping stuff bottled up isn’t very good for you, right? It’s not good for either of us, really. Plus, I want to know how you are feeling so I can help,” Kurt patiently explains.
“What if I just want to be sad for a little while?” Blaine says softly, his voice muffled by the couch pillows. “Is that okay? Am I allowed?”
Kurt’s stomach flips in a not entirely pleasant way at the question. Blaine’s allowed to be sad, of course. Anyone in his situation would be, at least for a few hours or days. But Kurt’s not entirely sure how to sit back and watch Blaine be sad, especially when the form his being sad takes involves Blaine shutting Kurt out. Kurt doesn’t know how to sit idly by and witness that without panicking that it’ll turn from temporary sadness into a full-on backslide into depression. The prospect unsettles Kurt to his very core.
“I think anyone in your shoes would be sad and disappointed, honey. So yes, of course you’re allowed to be sad for a while. It’s totally understandable. I just don’t want you to think this means something bigger than it is? It’s your first audition in a long time and look how close you already made it to being cast as a lead. Not to mention, Rachel heard no a lot when she moved to New York and started auditioning and now she’s got a Tony to her name, you know? I just want you to realize that you can’t give up so soon,” Kurt encourages.
“Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but I’m just not ready for the pep talk yet, okay?” Blaine manages, his voice hoarse and strained.
“Okay,” Kurt sighs. “Rain check?”
The only response he gets is a barely visible shrug from Blaine’s back.
“So, what do you need right now, then?” Kurt prompts because he still feels helpless and ill at ease about the whole thing.
“I think I’ll probably take a shower or bath and then call it an early night,” Blaine murmurs. “I haven’t been sleeping much this week. I’m beat.”
Given that it’s not even 5 pm, it feels like a bit of a blow off to Kurt. Unless Blaine’s planning on taking a four hour bath, he seriously doubts Blaine is going to bed for the night immediately after he bathes. “Want some company while you take a bath?” Kurt suggests optimistically.
“Is it okay if I just want to be alone right now?” Blaine whispers.
Every cell in Kurt’s body is screaming out in protest, but he grits his teeth and manages a half-halfhearted, “Sure, Blaine. If that’s what you think will help right now...”
“I do, thanks,” Blaine sniffles.
“Can I at least get a hug before you go take your bubble bath?” Kurt asks tentatively.
There’s a long pause while Blaine wipes his eyes and blows his nose with the crumpled tissues in his hand before he turns back to face Kurt and sits up. As soon as he does, Kurt is enveloping him in the warmest, tightest hug he’s ever given, trying to put every ounce of love, encouragement, and support into the one gesture of comfort that Blaine is allowing him right now. He’d have been content to hold Blaine all night, but after no more than thirty seconds, Blaine pulls away with a sheepish half smile while he swipes at a few fallen tears on his cheeks.
“Thanks,” Blaine repeats, then hops up off the sofa and flees from the room before Kurt can get out another word.
Blaine may sleep for a solid twelve hours that night, but Kurt barely sleeps a wink.
The next day starts out a bit more promising. Despite being exhausted from tossing and turning and worrying over Blaine all night, Kurt still rises early the next morning and brews a pot of extra strong coffee while he gets to work making Blaine’s favorite breakfast: blueberry waffles and sunny-side up eggs. He figures Blaine could use a good breakfast since he slept through dinner the previous evening. He’s also hoping that he’ll have better luck at coaxing Blaine into talking over breakfast in bed.
To Kurt’s surprise and utter delight, his plan works, at least at first.
Kurt carries a tray laden with two plates of food and cups of coffee into the bedroom where Blaine is still fast asleep. He sets the tray on his bedside table and then grabs one mug of hot coffee and wafts it near Blaine’s face, knowing that the scent is likely to pull him out of whatever dream he’s having.
“Mmm Kurt?” Blaine rasps, nose twitching adorably as he slowly opens his eyes.
“Good morning,” Kurt chirps.
“Is it?” Blaine groans, though he looks more confused than upset.
“Well, I made all your favorites for breakfast, plus there’s coffee?” Kurt tries to entice.
“Waffles?” Blaine sits up eagerly. “Fair enough, I guess any day that starts with waffles can’t be all bad.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Does that mean you’re up for some breakfast in bed?” Kurt asks as he grabs the tray off the table and sits it on the bed between the two of them.
“What’s the occasion?” Blaine wonders as he eyes the plates with interest.
“Just felt like spoiling you. I also figured maybe we could talk a little, since you weren’t feeling up to it last night.”
“Oh,” Blaine exhales, looking suddenly fretful. “I mean... I don’t know what else there is to say, really. It just sucks.”
“Yeah, it does suck, I agree. I’m definitely not disputing that,” Kurt confirms. “Go on, dig in,” he encourages when Blaine simply stares at his plate.
Blaine still seems strangely on edge and guarded about the callback rejection and Kurt isn’t sure how much to pry; rather than risk saying the wrong thing, he takes a minute to douse his waffle in maple syrup and butter and cut it into bite-sized pieces pieces. He hopes that given enough time, Blaine will speak up and give him something to work with.
“Did I mention that Cooper is an asshole?” Blaine mumbles after a minute or two of silence between bites of food.
“Um, like recently or just in general?” Kurt attempts to clarify, wondering if the comment is related at all to yesterday’s ordeal or simply an attempt at misdirection.
“Yeah, I meant recently. He called me yesterday, right after I got the call from the producers. I thought maybe he’d remembered I’d be hearing back one way or the other that afternoon, since I called him a day or two before my final callback for advice and told him the time frame. I was actually oddly touched and impressed because Coop rarely listens, especially when people are talking about themselves. But he’s my big brother and he’s been sort of trying lately, you know? He said he wanted us to be closer and I believed him. Not sure if that makes me gullible, an idiot, or both,” Blaine says bitterly, shaking his head in dismay.
“I take it that’s not why he called?” Kurt practically growls, already mentally plotting his revenge. It’s not the first time Cooper has let Blaine down and he suspects that it won’t be the last time, either.
“Ha, no,” Blaine chuckles, though it’s a harsh, broken sound that barely qualifies as laughter. “Not only did he forget about my callback and that I would find out if I got the role that afternoon, but he was actually calling to brag about landing a role on some soap opera which he swears will be his ‘next big break,’ as if he hasn’t already had plenty of those and pissed them all away.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kurt fumes. “Wow, I know he’s family and all, but he really doesn’t deserve such a great person like you for a little brother most of the time.”
“I guess that’s why blood is supposedly thicker than water,” Blaine sighs. “Because if it wasn’t, I probably would have killed him by now.”
“Not if I kill him first,” Kurt snarks back. He’s only half kidding. “Did you tell him off?”
Blaine shakes his head wearily. “No, I didn’t really see the point.”
Kurt isn’t surprised, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing that Blaine would occasionally stand up for himself to his family. He’s forever playing the dutiful son or brother, even though Blaine’s family often can’t be bothered to be there for him when he needs their support, love, and acceptance the most. Kurt admits to sharing a soft spot for Blaine’s mom, who is flighty and impulsive but almost always well-meaning. She has a tendency to flit in and out of Blaine’s life when it’s convenient for her, but when Blaine really needs her, she’s there in the important ways. Cooper and Blaine’s dad on the other hand, not so much.
“There doesn’t have to be any reason aside from you being upset and wanting Cooper to know that, honey,” Kurt points out.
“I guess I was embarrassed,” Blaine admits reluctantly.
“Why? You have nothing to embarrassed about, Blaine. How many people auditioned again, did you say? Two hundred?”
Blaine nods. “Something like that.”
“And out of two hundred people, you made it to the final two,” Kurt continues. “That’s amazing. Next time, you’ll probably be the last one standing.”
Blaine drops his fork to the plate with a muted clatter. He stares at his hands and avoids Kurt’s gaze as he says, “I don’t know if there’s going to be a next time.”
Kurt’s heart sinks at the comment. This is exactly what he’s been afraid of. “Of course there will be, baby. You are so talented and you can’t give up because of one rejection, not when you already got so close to one of your dream roles.”
“I don’t really want to talk about that anymore,” Blaine sighs. “It’s just... too much right now.”
It takes considerable willpower for Kurt not to argue with that, his mind internally screaming that what Blaine needs is a pep talk and to get back out there before he loses his courage. Deep down, Kurt knows that Blaine is destined for stardom. If not with this role, then the next one or the one after that. There’s no doubt in Kurt’s head that Blaine will get there one day; he just wishes he could share an ounce of that certainty with his husband.
However, instead of going forward with the pep talk, Kurt reaches out and takes Blaine’s free hand. “I’ll be here to give you a pep talk or just to listen whenever you are ready, okay?” he reminds Blaine, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But in the meantime, there’s something I really need to do...”
Blaine finally lifts his head, meeting Kurt’s gaze with wary but curious eyes. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Can I give Cooper a piece of my mind? If you don’t want to do it yourself, trust me, I’d be happy to step in,” Kurt grumbles.
“Kurt, you don’t have to-”
“Oh, believe me, I know I don’t have to,” Kurt interjects. “But I want to. Someone needs to take Cooper down a peg and remind him that he’s not the only person in the universe.”
“I don’t think he did it on purpose,” Blaine says.
“So? It was inconsiderate either way not to ask you at all about how you were doing. I’m sure if he spent even a minute or two listening to you, he would have picked up on something being wrong.”
“I mean, I would say maybe I was a good enough actor to fool Cooper, but obviously the producers don’t agree with me or they wouldn’t have cast the other guy,” Blaine murmurs sadly.
Kurt takes a deep, steadying breath. In his desire to lash out at Cooper for making one of the worst days Blaine has had in quite some time even worse, he’s forgotten what his one and only priority should be: Blaine and making sure he feels supported and loved. “Don’t say that about yourself, okay? According to the producers, you are a more talented actor than one hundred and ninety-eight of the best theater actors in New York, the theater capital of the world.”
Blaine just shrugs. Kurt notices for the first time that he’s more picking at his breakfast than eating it which makes Kurt nervous all over again. He has to work really hard not to draw the parallel between Blaine’s last bout of depression and how little he ate then versus what he’s doing right now. “Not that hungry, sweetheart? Or are the waffles not as good as usual?” Kurt asks.
“No, they are great,” Blaine insists. “Thank you for making them for me. It was a really sweet gesture.”
“It was the least I could do,” Kurt tells him. He notices that Blaine skillfully avoided answering whether or not he was hungry, but he decides to let it go for now. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since Blaine got the bad news, after all. He’s entitled to wallow a little longer.
Blaine glances over at the clock. “Don’t you need to hop in the shower? I don’t want to make you late for work.”
Kurt consults the clock and internally winces. He’s got less than thirty minutes to get ready before he needs to head out the door if he’s going to be on time. Still, he feels strangely unsettled at the thought of leaving Blaine alone given how down he seems. “Eh, I’ll be fine. I can always skip a few steps in my skincare routine if need be,” he replies, trying for casual. “What about you? What do you have planned for today?”
“I don’t have to be at the theater until 2:30 today. We’ve got a group of high school students coming in that are interested in doing our summer workshop and vocal intensive, so I’m going to be working with them,” Blaine reports disinterestedly.
Kurt tries to muster enough enthusiasm for both of them. “Sounds like fun. Crazy to think that was us just a few years ago, huh?”
Blaine’s only reply is the barest nod of his head. He’s gone back to staring at his hands.
“What are you doing before that? If you’re free, I could always play hooky for the morning so we could do something fun? Or maybe just veg around the house and watch cheesy movies together?” Kurt offers, feeling a little desperate as he racks his brain for something, anything, that might pull Blaine out of his funk.
“No, I wouldn’t want you skipping work on my account. I’ll be fine, Kurt. I’ve got some work to catch up on this morning. Little Miss Diva wants her solos transposed into a new key and I really ought to start working on some of the music for the summer workshop ahead of time, so...” Blaine says flatly.
Kurt bites his lip and stares at Blaine, still needing some sort of reassurance that leaving him all alone in an empty apartment is the right thing to do. Rationally, he knows Blaine will be safe. The worst case scenario is probably just Blaine moping around like he did yesterday which is far from the end of the world. Knowing that logically isn’t enough to relieve Kurt’s unease, however. Deep down, he feels like Blaine still needs him, but if Blaine isn’t ready or willing to let him help just yet, his hands are tied. It’s a frustrating and anxiety-provoking situation all around but there’s little to be done about it at this very minute.
He takes a deep, calming breath and forces a smile on his face. “Okay honey, it sounds like you’ve got plenty of work to do, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from that. But maybe once I get home from work, we can do something fun: see a movie and go out to dinner, or else order takeout and see if there’s anything good on the DVR or On Demand?” Kurt suggests brightly, though it’s mostly faked for Blaine’s benefit.
“You don’t have to do that,” Blaine whispers.
“Do what? Spend quality time with my husband? Because if that’s what you mean, then yes, I kind of do. I want to spend time with you,” Kurt insists, full of conviction.
“I just meant that it’s not your job to cheer me up all the time,” Blaine says in a low voice, avoiding Kurt’s gaze. “You’ve already had to do that enough for a lifetime over the past two years.”
“Look, aren’t I allowed to be disappointed, too? You don’t know how much I wanted to see you up on that stage, blowing away the audience and critics night after night. And I’m certain that you’ll find yourself on a Broadway stage before long, but it’s still a letdown. I get that. You get that. So, why can’t we cheer each other up? I know you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat. Hell, you have done the same for me many times before,” Kurt points out.
Blaine doesn’t seem to have any response to that. Instead, he goes back to picking at his breakfast, even managing a few meager bites though Kurt suspects it’s mainly just an excuse to keep his mouth full so he doesn’t have to talk to Kurt.
“Right, Blaine?” Kurt presses when the silence stretches on for longer than is comfortable for him.
“Hmm?” Blaine says noncommittally. “Right what?”
Kurt barely suppresses a sigh of frustration, starting to wonder if Blaine’s been listening to a word he’s said all morning. He suspects that Blaine is only feigning confusion, but it’s hard to know for sure when Blaine refuses to talk to him. “I was just saying that you’d do the same for me if our roles were reversed and that you’ve comforted and cheered me up when I was disappointed or rejected in the past.”
“Oh,” Blaine hums in recognition. “Yeah, I guess?” He gives a half-halfhearted shrug. “I mean, I would if our roles were reversed, anyway. But it’s not like you’ve faced a ton of rejection, because you’re twice as talented as I’ll ever be, so...”
“You’re kidding, right?” Kurt shoots back. “I’ve been rejected more times than I can count and as long as you and I have been together, you’ve always been there for me when that’s happened.”
“Like when?”
“Well, there was losing class president to Brittany, all those times I auditioned for solos for Glee competitions and got turned down, losing the role of Tony in West Side Story, getting rejected from NYADA the first time I applied... You get the picture,” Kurt lists off.
Blaine exhales in a rush. “Fair enough.”
It’s quiet for a moment while Kurt tries to find the right words of comfort or support. He knows Blaine is going to reject anything that sounds even vaguely like a pep talk, but he still feels like he shouldn’t leave Blaine alone without some parting words of wisdom, despite the fact that this is one of those times when words don’t feel like nearly enough.
Blaine glances back at the antique alarm clock on the nightstand and winces. “Yikes, baby, aren’t you going to be late?”
Kurt’s eyes go comically wide when he sees that it’s 7:40 am. That leaves him only twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and hail a cab if he wants to make it to the Vogue offices by 8:30 am to prep Isabelle’s coffee and morning call sheet before she arrives between 8:45 and 9 am. “Crap, yes, I really need to get in the shower. Are you going to be okay, though?”
Blaine nods, shooting Kurt what he assumes is supposed to be a reassuring smile, though Kurt immediately notices that Blaine’s face is strained and the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Easier said than done,” Kurt confesses. “It’s kind of my job as your husband. It was even in our vows.”
“Uh, I don’t remember that particular clause from our wedding?” Blaine frowns in confusion.
“For better or worse,” Kurt clarifies. “You having a bad day or week seems like it’d qualify as one of the worse times.”
“I guess so,” Blaine agrees reluctantly. Kurt’s pretty sure Blaine’s just trying to placate him so he’ll leave and go take a shower. If Kurt wasn’t already running so late, he’d probably point that out to Blaine.
“Okay, I’m going to go hop in the shower, I guess,” he announces. “Promise you’ll call or text me if you need anything or want to talk?”
“Sure,” Blaine says in a tone that’s far from convincing.
“And while I’m gone, maybe think about what you want to do tonight? I’m flexible, and all I really care about is doing whatever you think might cheer you up. If you decide you don’t want to go out, I can always pick up takeout on the way home. Just name the place,” Kurt requests. “I shouldn’t be late. Hopefully I’ll be leaving the office by 5 pm.”
Again, Blaine avoids Kurt’s gaze, this time in favor of pulling at a loose thread on his flannel pajama pants. “Alright, I will,” he agrees at last.
Kurt nods decisively, resolved that they have a plan for tonight or at least the beginnings of one. He leans in, cupping Blaine’s cheek with one hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Love you.”
“Yeah, you too,” Blaine replies with considerably less enthusiasm. It stings a little, but Kurt reminds himself that it’s the situation that’s got Blaine down, not him.
Kurt smoothes his thumb across Blaine’s cheekbone for a moment before releasing him and reluctantly standing. Walking away from Blaine when he’s in this state is incredibly difficult, but Kurt hopes that maybe a little time and space will be healing for his husband. If not, well, Kurt will execute Operation Cheer Blaine Up this evening. He just hopes and prays it will be more successful than their breakfast together was.
Kurt enters the apartment just after 5:30 pm that evening, weighed down with bags of takeout from Blaine’s favorite Thai restaurant in one hand and a bouquet of red and gold roses wrapped in brown paper in the other. The kitchen is dark, so Kurt struggles to heft everything up onto the marble counter top and then fumbles for the light switch. “Blaine?” Kurt calls out as he makes his way towards the living room. No response.
Frowning, Kurt walks into the living room, finding the TV switched off and their puppy, Feta, curled up on the couch alone. There’s still no sign of Blaine. Stomach flipping with irrational worry, Kurt hurries down the hallway towards their bedroom. The door is cracked, so Kurt pushes it open with a creak. He can barely see a thing since the lights are off in the bedroom as well, but he uses the pale slivers of waning light from the window to guide his way to the bedside table where he switches on a lamp.
Once his eyes adjust to the light, he sees Blaine curled up in bed in the fetal position with his back to Kurt. If he didn’t know that Blaine was scheduled to go into the theater for work this afternoon, he’d swear that Blaine hadn’t moved from the exact same spot since Kurt left for the Vogue offices this morning. The worry that seemed so irrational when he entered the apartment a few minutes ago is starting to seem less unfounded because the scene is very familiar and reminiscent of Blaine’s lowest moments in his fight against depression.
Kurt takes a deep, calming breath, making a conscious effort not to jump to any conclusions. It’s still only been a little over twenty-four hours since Blaine got the news he’d lost the part. Kurt is pretty sure he’d pouted and fumed and stuffed his face with cheesecake for a solid week after he found out that he was rejected from NYADA despite a strong first audition while Rachel had gotten in despite choking during her audition with Carmen. Blaine’s entitled to a little wallowing, and if it weren’t for his history of depression, Kurt doubts he’d think much of Blaine coping with his sadness by taking a lot of naps. He’s pretty sure it’s still a healthier coping strategy than Kurt’s penchant for inhaling all the baked goods in the Tri-state area when sad or angry.
Kurt tiptoes around the bed so he can see Blaine’s face. Kurt’s expecting his husband to be asleep, so it’s a bit of a shock when he walks to Blaine’s side of the bed and sees that he’s staring off into space, his eyes red and puffy from crying. “Honey...” Kurt breathes sympathetically as he perches in the small amount of space between Blaine and the edge of the bed.
“Sorry,” Blaine sniffles, looking embarrassed as he swipes at his running nose with the sleeve of one of Kurt’s old hoodies he’s recently claimed as his own since it’s soft and cozy, albeit much too big for Blaine.
“For what?” Kurt asks as he grabs a few tissues from the box of Kleenex on the nightstand and passes them to his husband.
“I - was going - to pull - myself together - before you came home,” Blaine chokes out between hitching breaths. “I swear I tried...”
“Hey no, you don’t have to hide anything from me, honey,” Kurt soothes. He grabs another handful of fresh tissues and tenderly dabs at the moisture on Blaine’s cheeks. “If you are feeling bad, I want to know that so I can help, okay?”
“But it’s not...” Blaine trails off and blows his nose loudly. “It’s not going to be like last time.”
“Last time?” Kurt feigns confusion, though he’s pretty sure he knows what Blaine means. At least, he hopes he does.
“When I was so depressed,” Blaine clarifies. “I’m sure it looks the same to an outsider, but it really isn’t. And I have no intention of letting it turn into that again, either.”
Kurt lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He feels like he’s fully exhaling for the first time in twenty-four hours. Hearing Blaine speak his greatest fear aloud and knowing that Blaine shares it and is taking steps to keep it from being realized is everything Kurt needed to hear and then some. “Okay, guilty as charged,” Kurt admits at last. “I think rationally I knew it wasn’t really the same, but emotions aren’t always rational, are they?”
Blaine lets out a squeak, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, or maybe it’s just a little of both at once. “Yeah, tell me about...”
“I happen to think how you are feeling right now is perfectly rational and logical,” Kurt admonishes gently. “Anyone in your shoes would feel sad and disappointed.”
“Yeah maybe,” Blaine concedes. “Although I think a true professional might have handled the rejection more gracefully. I mean, just look at me,” he sighs heavily, gesturing towards his red nose, swollen eyes, and tear-streaked face.
“I am,” Kurt huffs, a bit defensively. “Personally, I don’t see a thing wrong with how you look right now. You’re beautiful.”
Blaine breaks off into a fit of self-deprecating, wry laughter. “You’re kidding, right? I’m a mess.”
“I am dead serious,” Kurt insists, full of conviction. “And watch it, because that’s my husband you are talking about, buddy.”
“Kurt...” Blaine whispers, eyes filling with tears again. It’s pretty much the opposite of what Kurt was aiming for.
“No, no, baby, don’t cry,” Kurt entreats. “I’m sorry if what I said upset you or-”
“Shh, happy tears this time,” Blaine interrupts in his haste to reassure Kurt, reaching out and taking Kurt’s hand in his.
Kurt shoots him a skeptical look, unconvinced. “Okay, so maybe it’s a mix of happy and sad tears,” Blaine concedes. “I just... don’t know what I ever did to end up with someone as amazing as you in my life. Sometimes, especially on days like today, I don’t feel like I deserve you, is all.”
Kurt smiles, heart fluttering at Blaine’s words because it’s a sentiment that he’s felt and shared many times over. He never wants Blaine to doubt himself or what he brings to their relationship, because his contributions are too numerous to list off or even keep track of. Still, it’s good to know that even two years into their marriage, neither of them takes the other for granted. Kurt hopes that they never will, either.
“Oh honey, I feel the same, believe me. I’m so lucky to have you as my husband, and you should never, ever question what you bring to the table because it’s more than I could ever express, okay? You absolutely deserve me, regardless of whether or not you have a bad day, week, month, or even year. You quite literally saved my life when we first met by getting me away from the bullying and abuse and into Dalton, and that’s before we were even dating,” Kurt explains patiently.
Blaine’s eyes fill with tears again and his mouth twists to the side as he tries to stifle a sob. “Thank you,” he manages eventually, obviously overcome with emotion. “I really needed to hear that today, I think.”
Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “Believe me, it’s my pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls back and grabs more Kleenex to clean up Blaine’s teary face as best he can, with Blaine leaning into the touch appreciatively. It comes as no surprise to Kurt, given that Blaine told Kurt many years ago that he likes being taken care of because he was often left to fend for himself as a child. Even now, years later, the thought of Blaine as a six or seven year old being forced to dry his own tears and bandage his own skinned knees haunts Kurt. He suspects that it’s precisely those early childhood experiences that are to blame for why Blaine reacts so strongly to even the mildest of rejections or abandonments. It’s also why even though Blaine’s long since forgiven his parents for their mostly benign neglect, Kurt doubts he ever will.
Blaine gives him a watery, grateful smile through his tears. “I’d love to tell you I’m just going to snap out of it now, but I don’t think it’ll be quite so easy.”
“Of course it won’t be,” Kurt soothes. “For the record, I never expected that of you. I wouldn’t expect that of myself, so I’m definitely not holding you to a higher standard.”
“I’m just... sad. One of the things my therapist worked on with me is trying not to get too far ahead of myself, because that just sets me up for failure when everything doesn’t go according to what I imagined, you know?” Blaine begins. “Because life almost never goes according to plan. But I’ll totally cop to picturing what it would be like on opening night with you front and center in the audience watching me and cheering me on. And that’s all I wanted, really. To have the chance to do something I love and am passionate about, and most of all, for you to be proud of me.”
“Blaine, I am proud of you,” Kurt rushes to tell him. “I’m proud of you every day for so many reasons.”
Blaine swallows hard and looks up at him expectantly, seeming genuinely surprised. A flood of fresh guilt washes over Kurt at that, making him wonder if he’s done enough lately to validate Blaine. Kurt sees Blaine draw a deep, shuddering breath before he asks, “Like what?” in a tremulous voice that betrays his own insecurity.
“God, where to begin...” Kurt murmurs, sifting through his recollections. “I’m proud of you for going back to school at NYU and earning your degree in theater and music composition despite the depression. For battling every day to get better even though you were physically and mentally exhausted. I’m proud of you for asking me for help on your road to recovery and for letting me inside your head a little even though your mind was a scary place to be at the time. I’m proud of you for learning that it’s okay to sometimes put yourself first, whether that’s with me or your family or your friends. I’m proud of you for the man you’ve become who is loyal, kind, and generous to a fault despite a less than perfect upbringing that would have made lesser people curl up into a ball and give up. And I’m really, really proud of you for finally having the courage to get back out there and audition for a show with Broadway aspirations despite the amount of competition and rejection inherent in the theater community. It takes a lot of strength and talent to do what you do, Blaine, and making it to the final two out of two hundred plus people means you absolutely have what it takes. I have no doubt in my mind that one day soon I’ll be sitting in a New York theater, front row center, while you make your Broadway debut and that your performance will blow away the entire audience, the critics, and most of all, me, just like you imagined.”
Kurt pictures it all as he says it, wanting Blaine to feel the sincerity behind each and every word he speaks. As he starts to come back to himself, he gazes down at Blaine to see that he’s crying once more but still beaming through his tears.
“Kurt, I...” Blaine begins, then shakes his head when he can’t immediately continue, momentarily overcome. Kurt smiles encouragingly and squeezes his hand while he waits for Blaine to recover his composure. “I don’t know what to say other than thank you,” he manages eventually, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. “Well, there’s one more thing - I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Kurt whispers, though there’s more feeling put into those four little words than if he’d shouted them from the roof of a skyscraper at the top of his lungs. “Still feeling sad?” he asks Blaine after a minute, watching him closely.
Blaine bites at his lip, looking sheepish and suddenly avoiding eye contact again. “It’s okay if you are,” Kurt adds hastily, sensing the source of Blaine’s anxiety. “I wasn’t saying all that to try to fix you, I was saying it because it’s the truth.”
Blaine exhales in a rush and meets Kurt’s eyes again. “Yeah, I’m... yeah. Definitely better than before, because like I said a minute ago, I really needed to hear what you said earlier. But the rejection still stings a little, I guess?” He shrugs helplessly.
“Okay, so I’ve given you, what - roughly twenty-six hours to try things your way, right?”
Blaine nods. “Something like that.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kurt hums. “Now can we try the patented Kurt Anderson-Hummel method for cheering a person up?”
“You have a patented method for curing the blues?” Blaine quirks up one eyebrow quizzically. “Do tell.”
“I prefer to show, not tell,” Kurt says. “Do you trust me?”
“To the ends of the earth,” Blaine swears.
“Good, then just sit tight. I’ll be right back for you, okay? I need to set up a few things first.”
Blaine looks puzzled and mildly curious, but he doesn’t question Kurt. Instead, he just nods resolutely.
Kurt’s heart is full at the concrete demonstration of just how much trust and unquestioning faith Blaine puts in him. Kurt grabs one final fistful of tissues and passes them to his husband so he can clean up his tears while Kurt is gone. “Back in sec,” he repeats fondly, stooping to press a kiss to Blaine’s hair before he hurries from the bedroom and down the hall to the living room to get everything prepared.
Five minutes later, Kurt surveys his handiwork, pleased that he has everything he’ll need within easy reach of the couch so he doesn’t have to leave Blaine’s side, even for a moment. Hopefully, it will be just what the doctor has ordered for what ails Blaine.
He makes his way back to their bedroom where Blaine is just as he left him, curled up on the bed and scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Thankfully, Blaine appears to be dry-eyed for the moment, perhaps for the first time since Kurt woke him up with breakfast early this morning.
“Hi you,” Kurt greets him softly.
“Hey yourself. Hate to break it to you, but that was a lot more than a second,” Blaine teases, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Kurt shoots back, relishing the opportunity to inject a bit of the playfulness back into their relationship. The teasing and good-natured banter has been sorely lacking for the last week or so, first because Blaine was too nervous about his callback for jokes and then because he was so crestfallen about losing the part that humor seemed a foreign concept.
“Maybe?” Blaine grins.
“Two can play at this game, then,” Kurt announces as he bends down and scoops Blaine off the bed in one quick motion, with one arm under Blaine’s knees and the other looped around his back.
“Kurt, what are you doing?” Blaine giggles as Kurt begins carrying him from the bedroom, still protectively cradled in Kurt’s arms.
“Shh, don’t question my methods, okay? All will be revealed in good time.”
“If you say so,” Blaine hums, his head automatically finding his spot nuzzled into the crook of Kurt’s neck. Kurt smiles, already feeling optimistic that his plan, along with the cathartic conversation they had earlier, will succeed at cheering Blaine up where his attempts yesterday failed.
They arrive in the living room, where Kurt has already unfurled the softest, coziest cashmere blanket they own over the couch. He lays Blaine down lengthwise across the sofa, instructing him, “don’t move,” as he takes one side of the blanket and wraps it around Blaine’s body so that only his head and feet poke out from either end. When he finishes wrapping Blaine snugly in one side of the blanket, he tucks the end under Blaine’s body and then repeats the same steps with the other side of the blanket and tucks the excess fabric underneath so that Blaine is, for all intents and purposes, swaddled and bundled up in it like a burrito.
Once Kurt finishes, he asks his husband, “How does that feel?”
“Um... like I am the world’s largest human sushi roll?” Blaine says, the amusement evident in his tone. “Why - what’s it supposed to feel like?”
“Human sushi, totally. That was the goal,” Kurt manages between fits of laughter.
“Well, in that case, you succeeded. Congrats,” Blaine giggles.
Kurt wipes a few tears of laughter from his eyes. “In all honesty, I was just going for cozy and warm and secure. Imagining you as Blaine sushi is really just an added bonus.”
“I am definitely all of the above,” Blaine hums, wriggling a little from his perch on the couch cushions. “Though I could you use your help with one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“My nose itches,” he explains, nose crinkling up adorably. “Help a bro out, will you?”
“As long as you agree to never, ever refer to yourself as a bro again, sure,” Kurt teases. He picks up a bundled up Blaine and settles himself against the arm of the couch with Blaine’s body resting across his lap.
“Hey, once upon a time, you told me you loved it when I talked fratty,” Blaine huffs with mock defensiveness.
“Maybe I’m maturing, then,” Kurt jokes. “Okay, is it the tip of your nose?”
“Yep,” Blaine confirms, nose wrinkling until Kurt finds the right spot and scratches it for him.
“Better?”
“Much,” Blaine sighs gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, honey,” Kurt tells him, then presses a kiss to the bridge of Blaine’s nose. “Okay, so now we are ready for the next step in my process.”
“There’s more?” Blaine looks surprised. “I thought becoming sushi was the end goal.”
“Please, we’ve only just begun,” Kurt shoots back. “My plans are always ambitious, let’s be real.”
“You raise an excellent point. Sorry I ever doubted you.”
Kurt makes a vain attempt to look even vaguely disappointed as he shakes his head. “See that it doesn’t happen again, Mister.” He grabs the remote control he left within easy reach and turns the television on and switches inputs to navigate to the DVD he cued up earlier. It’s one of Blaine’s all-time favorite movies going back to his childhood, making it the perfect flick equivalent to comfort food.
“What are we watching?” Blaine asks, eyes widening with excitement as the DVD menu pops up on the screen. “Ooh, The Lion King? My favorite,” he practically cheers. “Dibs on singing Simba’s part. Sorry, you have to be Nala.”
“Excuse you, what if I want to be Timon? Or Pumba?” Kurt says.
Blaine tilts his head to one side, pretending to seriously mull over the proposition. “Hmm, I guess I can allow that, though you’re way cuter than Pumba.”
“I’m cuter than a warthog? That seems like a pretty low bar but thanks anyway,” he chuckles.
“You’re cuter than all the animated characters put together,” Blaine promises.
Kurt smiles fondly and sinks back against the couch pillow, hugging a bundled up Blaine a little closer so that Blaine’s head rests against his chest. Then, he settles his cheek against Blaine’s hair just as the opening notes to the Circle of Life begin to play.
Half an hour later, Simba has just lost his father, Mufasa, to a stampede of wildebeest and Blaine and Kurt are both soggy messes of emotion. Kurt knew the onscreen death was coming but it still gets him every time. Maybe it’s because he lost his own beloved mother at a similar age, or perhaps it’s just a testament to how effective Disney movies are at killing off the main character’s parents and still making it gut-wrenching despite the inevitability and predictability of the losses. Kurt’s honestly not entirely sure which it is. He feels a little guilty for making Blaine cry again, but in his defense, it is Blaine’s favorite movie, animated or not. Besides, he knows that a good cry can be cathartic, and he has every intention of taking very good care of Blaine for the remainder of the evening.
“You okay, honey?” Kurt checks, carding his fingers through Blaine’s hair as they both try to regain their composure.
“Yeah, I - it’s stupid,” Blaine says between hitching breaths and periodic sniffles. “I’ve seen this movie hundreds of - times and so I know - what’s coming, but still...”
“Blaine, look at me,” Kurt requests, his voice low and thick with emotion.
Blaine turns his head and cranes his neck to peer up at Kurt in the dimly lit room. “Oh,” he whispers when he sees the fresh tears glittering on Kurt’s cheeks. “Are you okay?” he wonders as he wipes the moisture away with the pad of his thumb.
“Of course I am,” Kurt assures him. “But this movie gets to me no matter how many times I watch it, just like you.”
Blaine tips his face up and nuzzles it into the side of Kurt’s neck. “Because we’re both big saps?”
“Something like that,” Kurt murmurs and presses a kiss to the crown of Blaine’s hair. “But I think I know just what you need to feel better,” he adds and reaches for the juice box he’d stashed on the end table next to the couch before he carried Blaine out to living room.
Before Blaine can even ask what he supposedly needs, Kurt is sliding a thin straw between his lips. “Drink,” he encourages, “After all, crying is a very dehydrating activity.”
The corners of Blaine’s mouth twitch up into a half smile while he takes several long pulls from the straw. “Doesn’t that mean you need to re-hydrate, too?” he points out once he finishes drinking from the juice box. “Unless you are scared of getting my cooties, that is.”
“If I were scared of your cooties, would I do this?” Kurt whispers as he tilts Blaine’s face up for a slow, sweet kiss, chasing the tart taste of cranberry and apple on Blaine’s tongue.
“Guess not,” Blaine hums happily as they break apart. “Oh, one of my favorite parts is coming up,” he announces, glancing at the television.
Kurt maneuvers his little Blaine bundle again, until Blaine’s head is resting against his shoulder with his back propped up by the arm of the couch. Once he has Blaine settled, he takes a few swigs from the juice box and then grabs a plate and fork off the end table. It’s a beautifully prepared fruit tart if Kurt does say so himself, part of last night’s stress baking marathon when he needed an outlet for his worry after Blaine went to bed without dinner by 7 pm, leaving Kurt to wallow all alone.
He carefully cuts a small bite and stabs it with the fork. “Open up,” Kurt directs. “Let me know what you think of last night’s culinary adventure.
Blaine doesn’t even look to see what Kurt’s feeding him, he just obediently opens his mouth while his eyes remain trained on the movie playing out onscreen. He moans when he tastes it, however. “Oh my god, that’s heavenly. What is it?”
“Fruit tart. I threw a little bit of everything in there, but it’s mostly mixed berries and kiwi. I used the leftover blueberries for the waffles this morning,” Kurt replies proudly.
“You are a culinary god,” Blaine groans. “Please tell me there’s more of that?”
“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from. Do you want another bite now?”
“Yes please. Or you know, if you wanted to unroll me enough to have the use of my arms again, I could probably feed myself,” Blaine teases.
“Now where would be the fun in that?” Kurt admonishes. “Besides, I have a methodology to uphold, remember?”
“Ah yes, how could I forget? And I’m definitely not questioning your methods, especially when they taste that good.”
Kurt grins and stabs another forkful of tart. “That’s what I like to hear. Open up, baby.”
Blaine does as directed, humming happily as he smacks his lips together for dramatic effect. “Have I mentioned that you’re the best?”
“Possibly, but I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Now shh, watch your movie.”
Just over an hour later, the music playing over the final credits swells, startling Kurt awake. He looks down and sees Blaine fast asleep on his chest, still protectively cocooned in the cashmere throw, his cheeks rosy and his hair mussed and curling over his forehead. Kurt smiles as he gazes down at him, feeling his stomach swoop with love and gratitude that he was able to find a way to comfort Blaine and hopefully shake him out of the sadness that’s been like a heavy weight on both of them since yesterday afternoon.
With Blaine already in his arms, it’s easy for Kurt to gather him up and stagger to his feet. Blaine barely even stirs at the movement as Kurt begins carrying him down the hallway towards their bedroom.
As Kurt enters the dimly lit room and gently places Blaine on his side of the bed, his eyes flutter open halfway. “Kurt?” he rasps drowsily.
“Shh, go back to sleep. I’m just going to get out of my work clothes before I do the same,” Kurt assures him, sweeping a lock of hair back from Blaine’s temple.
“Movie’s over?” Blaine mumbles.
“Yep, we both fell asleep,” Kurt replies.
“You did it,” Blaine whispers as his eyes fall shut again.
“Hmm?” Kurt asks, a little confused as he carefully steps out of his trousers and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“It worked,” Blaine slurs. “Happy lil sushi roll.”
“Oh,” Kurt breathes when he realizes Blaine is referring to his rather... unconventional method for cheering Blaine up. He looks over at an obliviously sleeping Blaine and feels a fresh flood of relief and love sweep through him. In the end, he decides that gloating over being right can probably wait until morning. Right now, a good night’s sleep and cuddling with his human sushi roll of a husband takes priority.