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The metaphorical blinders come off because of a text message, of all things. And god, it is a stupidly simple text message.
We’ll talk later.
As soon as Kurt steps out of class and sees the message waiting for him on his phone, he stops in his tracks, his blood turning cold for a second. Tries not to panic at the vagueness of the words. Key word: tries. And he fails - hard.
“Later” could mean a million different things - could mean five minutes (not likely, the text was sent a half hour ago), could mean a day, could mean never. It’s the not-so-fun thing about text messages - he can’t read Adam’s tone of voice, so he has no way of interpreting the “later.”
And he hasn’t forgotten what he said to Adam yesterday - horrible, jealousy-induced words that he regretted as soon as they came out, regret that doubled and tripled when he saw the hurt look on Adam’s face, regret that festered in his self-loathing when Adam started to walk away.
He’d spent all night staring up at the ceiling, wondering what to do - then today it all went downhill with that text message. He’d panicked.
That’s how he ends up sitting at the stairs for the PATH station in Hoboken, watching as the rain beats down mercilessly on the pavement. In hindsight he probably should have thought this through, or at least brought an umbrella. But then again, talking to his boyfriend on the phone in some sort of public space in the pouring rain is the stuff of romance movies - and that string of thought with Adam and sappy love stories makes his heart hurt all over again.
So he pulls out his phone and calls, and when Adam picks up on the second ring his breath hitches a little.
“Kurt?” He sounds cautious, and the way the name rolls off his accented voice makes Kurt’s stomach flip. He’ll probably never get used to it.
“When you said ‘later,’ you didn’t mean the ‘never’ kind of ‘later,’ right?”
“Sorry?” Adam says, confused now. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ve known people who say ‘later’ when they really mean ‘never,’” Kurt says breathlessly. “And when I got your text - when you said that we’d talk later, I couldn’t help but think that maybe you meant ‘never’ - and I don’t want that. At least not without apologizing to you first.”
Adam’s silent for a moment, then, “I didn’t mean ‘never.’ If that’s what I meant, I would have said as much.”
“I’m sorry,” Kurt says weakly. “I’m jealous and insecure and petty and when I get selfish, I get really selfish because before you I wasn’t allowed to be selfish - and I took advantage of that. I just - I’m sorry.”
“What exactly did you think would happen? That I would say yes to him? Even though I’m quite obviously taken?” Adam doesn’t sound angry - Kurt considers that a good sign - but he can still hear the hurt in his voice.
“I - “ He’s about to say ‘I’m sorry’ again until he cuts himself off. “Did I ever tell you how - or why my ex and I broke up?”
“You never liked to talk about it,” Adam answers hesitantly, as if he’s not sure he’ll like the direction this conversation’s turning. “Not amicably, I assume?”
He remembers it very clearly - being buried in work at Vogue dot com, trying to scrap up spare minutes to talk to Blaine, trying to make it work and ultimately having it all blow up in his face.
He relays the story to Adam - ever patient and attentive. And although the wounds are still there, bringing up the memories doesn’t pierce that aching betrayal in Kurt’s gut anymore. He’s more concerned with Adam - how he reacts, how he takes it when Kurt shares this with him, shares his past. And that’s how he knows - if he didn’t already, with the text message epiphany from earlier today - that his feelings for Adam are a done deal.
“So... you don’t quite trust me then,” Adam murmurs.
“I do,” Kurt grimaces immediately. “I mean, I’m trying to. I want to. And I know that I wouldn’t be this upset if I wasn’t ridiculously in love with you - “
“What?”
Oh god, did he really just say that?
He did. He’s never said those words to Adam before. But they’re true. Is it too early to say them? Well - he can’t insult Adam and backtrack now. “I love you. I love you and I really want to make this work. But I’m horrible at this, which you’ve probably figured out. I mean, even just now. I told you I love you and it wasn’t even to your face.”
Kurt tries to laugh, but it comes out sounding like a strangled sob instead.
It seems like hours before Adam speaks again. The line’s gone a little static-y as he asks, “Where are you right now? Home?”
He closes his eyes and slouches, banging his head back against the concrete softly. “Not… Not really.”
“Where are you, Kurt?”
He hesitates for another long moment, but eventually replies, “I might be on your side of the Hudson already.”
Adam mutters something that can only be some sort of British profanity, but Kurt admires the low growl all the same. “You’re at the station? Stay there, I’ll come get you.”
That makes Kurt sit up. He can’t make Adam come out and get him - he’d already done enough damage with his words yesterday. To inconvenience him today would only make things worse. “N-no, you don’t have to. I’ll come to you when the rain lets up.” He glances up at the sky and frowns. Is it his imagination or have the clouds gotten distinctively darker?
“I won’t let my boyfriend wait in the pouring rain while I sit at home with my tea and biscuits. What kind of English gentleman would that make me?”
Kurt has to crack a smile at that. “Are you really eating cookies over there?”
“Hobnobs. Only because I’ve already finished your homemade ones,” Adam says, and the warmth that Kurt has become so used to is already seeping back into his tone. “Stay there, Kurt. I’ll come round in a bit.”
“I’ll be here,” Kurt says quietly, and taps the red button on his phone.
He knows that it’ll be at least ten minutes before Adam gets here, so he has some time to think about what he wants to say. That’s what he should be doing anyway. But there’s so much on his mind, so much he wants to say, so much he needs to apologize for that when he finally looks up and sees Adam standing there with a large yellow umbrella, wearing a sweater and that coral shirt that Kurt loves on him so much and jeans that are soaked to the ankle, he finds that his words still fail him.
“Hi,” Adam says. He’s not smiling, not quite - but his eyes are crinkled at the corners just slightly, and that sort of gives him away.
“Hey,” Kurt answers, and he stands up, brushing the lint and dirt from his jeans. Adam’s standing on the step above him, and he is significantly taller in this position. It makes Kurt’s insides tingle. Or at least it would, if he knew where this relationship stood at the moment.
“You’re much more dry than I thought you’d be,” Adam says wryly, spinning the umbrella around in his grip. “And here I thought I’d get the chance to be your Prince Charming.”
God, that makes Kurt’s chest ache. “I don’t want a Prince Charming,” he says slowly. “I want you.”
Adam’s chest rises sharply with an inhale. “Kurt - ”
“Wait,” Kurt interrupts. The words are slowly coming to him. Everything he wants to say, everything he wants to share with Adam. He has to say it now. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you yesterday. I’m not trying to make excuses, but I said those things because I’m scared.”
A crease forms between Adam’s eyebrows, and he lifts his free hand to gently curl around Kurt’s elbow, bringing the two of them closer. “I’m not going to run off with the first person I see. You know that, don’t you?”
Kurt shakes his head frantically. “No, that’s not - I know. I know that. But that’s not it. What it is - ” He stops himself, frustrated, and takes in a breath. “You make me happy, Adam. The happiest I’ve ever been, and that scares me so much. I’m scared that this won’t work out, that we won’t work out, and that I’ll lose you, if I haven’t already.”
“You haven’t lost me though,” Adam says softly, his fingers ghosting up Kurt’s arm and cupping his face. “I’m right here. And I’ll stay right here, until you decide that you’re sick of me.”
Kurt manages a tiny smile, and it’s only when Adam begins thumbing at the damp skin under his eyes does he realize that he’s been crying. “Like that’ll ever happen.”
The statement brings a slow, beautiful smile to Adam’s face. “Then it’s settled. You’re stuck with me.”
“I can think of worse things,” Kurt says. His heart feels infinitely lighter as he curls a hand around the back of Adam’s neck and goes on tiptoe to kiss him, trying to express through his actions all that he can’t express with words.
It’s a short kiss, and when Adam pulls back with a satisfied hum, his eyes are still closed, and he presses his lips together as if trying to savor Kurt’s taste. Kurt doesn’t bother hiding his smile at that.
“Would you mind if we headed back to your place so you can throw out those Hobnobs and I can bake a batch of ‘I’m sorry’ cookies?” Kurt whispers, pressing his face into Adam’s neck.
“No thanks to the ‘I’m sorry’ cookies, but I’ll take some ‘I love you’ cookies,” Adam says, pulling him in close by the shoulders and pressing his lips to Kurt’s forehead. “I wasn’t hallucinating that, was I? I heard you correctly on the phone?”
“You heard right,” Kurt says with a laugh, and goes in willingly to wrap his arms around Adam’s middle. It’s only been a day, but god, he missed this. Missed him. “I love you.”
“I’m happy to hear it.” Adam’s eyes are warm, and he steps backward onto the next step up, holding his hand out. “Shall we?”
It stings a little bit that Adam doesn’t say it back, but Adam is smiling and lovely and that’s all that Kurt can really ask for at the moment. Mostly, he’s just enjoying the revelation that this wonderful man is his, that he hasn’t messed this up. He takes Adam’s hand happily and follows.
Every time he says those words to Adam afterward, his heart is so filled with love, with light, with warmth and it completely envelops him that after a time, it doesn’t even bother him anymore that he hasn’t heard those words in return. He knows Adam cares about him. But even if it’s not love, that’s alright. The way that Adam makes him feel, the love he carries for Adam is more than enough. He couldn’t be happier.
Well - so he thinks.
Because it’s three weeks later when Adam comes up behind him as he’s putting the dishes away, and he wraps his arms around Kurt, creating a cage he never wants to escape, and buries his face against Kurt’s neck, soft and smelling like sugar and oats and Adam and everything that Kurt adores as he murmurs, “I love you, Darling,” and - oh.
Kurt melts into those arms, turning his head to the side so Adam can kiss him, and he sighs blissfully against those lips.
Couldn’t be happier?
He was wrong. He was so wrong.