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His stomach’s doing somersaults.
But not in the about-to-throw-up kind of way – in a good way. It’s that familiar fluttery, antsy, breathless, exhilaration – the head-over-feet, thrust open all the doors and windows and sing a happy song type of feeling. It’s one of the best feelings in the world, but from Kurt’s experience, it’s also kind of the worst.
It had first happened with Finn, of course. But every time Kurt thinks back to that time in his life, or any time Rachel reminds him of that, it’s just – gross.
And then there was Blaine. He had been Kurt’s teenage dream, his high school sweetheart, the one who Kurt thought was his happily ever after, at least until he broke his heart.
And if he’s being perfectly honest, Chase Madison had extracted that feeling from Kurt too, when they first met. But then Chase had mentioned wanting to propose to his girlfriend, and Kurt had tamped that feeling down so quickly he almost forgot he ever had it.
Naturally, he has good reason to be suspicious of this feeling whenever it rises in his stomach. It never lasts, and it never ends well.
His name is Adam. He’s a senior, tall, leader of one of NYADA’s most offbeat clubs, blue-eyed and blond, and he’s charming and kind and has a lovely English accent.
He’s probably also straight, knowing Kurt’s luck. Or a cheater.
But sometimes he looks at Kurt just so, with this kind of wonder and almost admiration. Kurt tries not to analyze it too much. Someone as worldly as him, as sophisticated as him is probably just curious about Kurt, about his humble upbringing from a small town in Midwest America and how different their life stories are. So when he asks questions, Kurt indulges that curiosity, and he answers with stories about his experiences with glee club, and what it was like growing up as an out kid in an ultra-conservative town.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Adam sympathizes one day when he’s walking with Kurt to the financial aid office. “And here I thought my life was difficult when I came out.”
Kurt blinks once, then pretends that this statement doesn’t affect him.
(But the body doesn’t lie. Thump goes his heart, a little faster now.)
For weeks (weeks!) he looks for that dealbreaker. He looks for that flaw, that fracture, that thing that will make the butterflies disintegrate to cold, bitter, disappointed dust in the pit of his stomach.
If it’s happened before, it’ll happen again. At some point. He’s sure of it.
Adam is gay, he knows that much. And when he mentioned his old glee club’s habits of romantic roulette and infidelity, Adam had gotten this really angry, dark look on his face. So, probably not a cheater either.
But that break, the abrupt stop in that fluttering feeling is inevitable. The only question at this point is when?
“There’s this guy I’m interested in,” Adam says one day over coffee. “I’d like to ask him out.”
Ah, there it is. The butterflies instantly sink like lead. Kurt hates how familiar that feels. “What’s stopping you?” He asks, though he really, really doesn’t want to know the answer.
“I’m afraid he’s still hung up on his ex.”
“Then he’s an idiot,” Kurt replies, forcing a smile. He hopes that the disappointment isn’t terribly obvious on his face. “Who would choose a stupid ex-boyfriend over – well, someone as great as you?”
Adam smiles in response, as if he’s encouraged by this. “Great, huh? I like to think so. He’s funny, smart, sexy and when he sings, his voice – I’m telling you – absolute chills. I know we would be amazing together.”
Each description is like a punch in the gut, but Kurt tries to stay cool and unaffected. No one likes an emotional mess. “He sounds like quite the catch. Is he from NYADA?”
Adam nods, casually sipping his coffee. “You know him, actually.”
“Is he in the Apples?”
“Yeah.”
Kurt tries to rack his brain for who it could be. He knows for sure that there at least three other gay guys in the club, but last he checked, they were all taken.
Adam chuckles. “I’ve only known him for about three months. He’s a first year."
It sounds startlingly familiar, but he refuses to jump to conclusions just yet. It’s gotten him in trouble before.
“My god, you’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” Adam grins. “Alright. He’s from this place called Lima…”
Kurt’s breath catches. No way.
“…and he’s sitting right in front of me.”
“Me?” He squeaks, shocked, and after a moment, it sinks in. Someone wants him. This amazing, wonderful guy – wants him.
A huge wave of relief – elation really – washes over him. So does that fluttery feeling. It rises up from his stomach, envelops him from head to toe. This time, there’s a longevity to it – somewhere in his gut he knows that it’s here to stay. He feels like he’s flying.
“Me,” he laughs with mirth, covering his face. “Me.”
“You,” Adam says fondly, taking Kurt’s hands from his face and squeezing them gently. “Of course it’s you.”