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“Blam over Seblaine, any day. Come on, Rachel, you have to see that.”
“Are you kidding me, Tina? Do you have any idea what chemistry looks like? Remember when they did ‘Animal’ at the AMAs, with Sebastian and Blaine as the leads? I thought my skirt was going to fly off,” says Rachel, leaning back against the exterior wall of the theatre and placing a hand on her chest. “Besides, Sam is straight, and I’m pretty sure he dates a new woman every week.”
Tina snorts and raises a knowing eyebrow. “Did you ever think that maybe he’s dating a new woman every week because women aren’t right for him? Because maaaaybe he’s in love with his best friend?”
Mercedes exchanges a glance with Kurt and rolls her eyes. “This shipping nonsense is ridiculous. Didn’t all five of them self-identify in that Out interview?”
“Shipping is harmless and sexuality is fluid,” Tina replies, crossing her arms. “What about you, Kurt?”
Kurt scrolls his Instagram feed and sighs, “You know I don’t care about their personal lives. I’m here for the music.”
“Fine, fine, be boring,” Rachel says. She looks up and down the long, long, long line they’re in and shakes her head. “I still can’t believe you snagged these tickets. The Warblers are the hottest boy band to hit the charts since One Direction broke up. I thought this show was sold out.”
“Was it? Huh,” Kurt says, still not looking up from his phone. “Well, tickets to these things are always lying around somewhere, and you know I’ve got an eye for bargains. I guess you just have to know where to look.”
*
The show is, as expected, nothing short of spectacular. The Warblers—also known as Blaine Anderson, Ryder Lynn, Sam Evans, Jake Puckerman, and Sebastian Smythe—subscribe to the old-school boy band ways, performing safely suggestive choreography in loosely coordinated outfits while maintaining full, steady harmonies. In classic boy band fashion, there’s one for every taste: Ryder, the jock; Jake, the bad boy; Blaine, the Prince Charming; Sam, the goofball; and Sebastian, the sophisticate.
Rachel, Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt all have their favorites, but right along with the rest of the audience, they scream for each of the Warblers in turn as they switch leads on every song. They’re right up against the stage, front row center to take in all the talent, charm, and energy the Warblers have to give. There’s a harrowing moment near the end of the show where Sam gets close to their group, reaching into the audience to touch their hands, and Tina manages to intertwine her shaking fingers with his before he crouches and kisses her fingers. She quite literally swoons when he walks away, until Mercedes grips her around the waist and pinches her side. Then Rachel screams, Tina bursts into tears, and Kurt can’t help but laugh with the euphoria of it all.
All in all, it’s a great night.
Tina’s still holding her hand to her cheek when they emerge from the venue.
“You okay?” Kurt asks, rubbing a hand over her back and grinning at that dazed, blissful look on her face. Rachel and Mercedes chatter excitedly ahead of them, recapping all their favorite vocal runs and harmonies from the night.
Tina shakes her head. “Sam Evans kissed my hand, Kurt. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”
Kurt laughs and kisses her hair. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“Come on, the stage door’s just around this corner!” Rachel says, hastening her steps. She reaches back to grab Mercedes, who reaches back to grab Tina. They’ll form a chain and fight their way to the front if they have to.
When Tina reaches for Kurt, he shakes his head and says, “Go ahead. I’ve got to get home. I have a paper for Theatre History to finish.”
All three of them whine and roll their eyes at him, lamenting his refusal to have fun with their usual frustration and disbelief.
“Kurt, I know for a fact that paper isn’t due for another week, what is wrong with you?!” Rachel shrieks. “It’s the STAGE DOOR. With THE WARBLERS. How are you okay with missing this?”
“I have to finish the paper because I won’t have time to do it for the rest of the week, not with all the other work I’ve got to do.”
“Babe, when Rachel Berry is more fun than you are, you’re doing something wrong,” Mercedes adds, ignoring Rachel’s indignant noises as she continues, “This isn’t something that happens every day, Kurt, come with us.”
Tina tugs his arm in a vice grip. “Please, Kurt! You saw what happened to me! This is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of night! Homework can wait, but the Warblers can’t!”
Kurt shakes his head. Their insistence that he experiences this with them warms his heart, truly, but he’s had his plans for this night set for quite some time. “I can’t, ladies. I know it’ll be a late night, so promise me you’ll split a cab home and not take the subway, okay?”
Tina pouts, but she lets go of him and joins Mercedes and Rachel. “We promise!” Rachel shouts over her shoulder, already hurrying off to try and get a decent spot at the barricade.
Kurt waits about five seconds for the girls to disappear around the corner before he turns and walks in the opposite direction, smoothly making his way back through the front doors of the venue and up a staircase immediately to the right of the entrance. His heart beats faster and faster as he walks briskly past the bathrooms, past a few offices, through another hallway, and up to a heavy black door with a buff and surly bouncer in front of it.
The man nods, knocking on the door with one long tap, a short one, and another long one, then says, “Glad you could make it, Kurt.”
“Me too,” Kurt replies, his body buzzing with excitement. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, then nods at the bouncer, who swipes his key fob across a sensor next to the door and pushes it open so that Kurt can enter.
“Kurt! Great to see you, man!” Sam wraps him in a hug as soon as he steps through the door of the dressing room.
Kurt grins and squeezes him back. “You too, Sam. Thanks for that moment with Tina, by the way, you really made her night.” He can see the other guys behind Sam, standing to offer their greetings—and in Ryder’s case, running over to throw his big arms around them to join in on the hug. Jake claps a hand onto Kurt’s shoulder as he walks past on his way to the mini-fridge in the corner, Sebastian narrows his eyes before turning back to his phone, and Blaine—
“Excuse me, move, move, move—”
As Sam and Ryder let go of Kurt, Blaine pushes between their much-taller bodies and throws himself into Kurt’s arms, tackling him with a hard kiss before he takes hold of Kurt’s face with both hands. The feeling of Blaine’s body against his is never as familiar as Kurt would like it to be, but when Kurt touches him, sliding his hands down Blaine’s sides, it reminds him that New York is only home when Blaine is in it, too. Kurt lets his eyes close, losing himself in his boyfriend as he clutches Blaine’s hips and kisses him back, audience be damned, though he does hear Sebastian scoff in the background.
“As much as I love a good peep show… get a room, guys,” Sebastian says.
Blaine releases Kurt’s mouth with a loud smack, panting, “This one, then. Everybody out.”
The other guys grumble, and whoop, and wolf-whistle, but they file out as asked.
“He really missed you, Kurt,” Sam says, leaning over to whisper loudly in Kurt’s ear. “Like, crazy missed you.”
Kurt knows. He has recent, vivid memories of Blaine’s tired, teary eyes on his phone screen during impromptu Skype sessions, waking up at 5 AM to long, lonely texts Blaine wrote after shows in other time zones, mystery packages showing up at his door containing souvenirs from endless locations with personal notes detailing exactly why this item or that one reminded Blaine of Kurt. Kurt’s heart ached every time. “I know the feeling,” he sighs.
Sebastian rolls his eyes and nudges Blaine with his elbow on his way out. “We’re going to the stage door. Don’t be too late.”
Blaine ignores him entirely, reaching around Kurt to push the door closed and turn the lock. He presses Kurt against it, his hands curled around Kurt’s shoulders as he just stands there for a moment and breathes.
Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s back and pulls him closer, burying his face in Blaine’s neck. “Mmm… you changed your cologne. I’d like an updated sweater, please.”
The wet sound of Blaine’s laughter prompts Kurt to squeeze him tighter before guiding them over to the sofa on the far wall of the dressing room. He sinks down on it and lays on his back, letting Blaine crawl on top of him. The weight of Blaine’s body is the anchor, keeping him present and stable when his mind is trying to cram in a month’s worth of physical contact in three minutes, trying to take Blaine in as much as he can before he jets off again.
Blaine’s face is all twisted up; overwhelmed, his shaking hands squeeze and stroke over Kurt seemingly with no other purpose than to make sure he’s really there.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, shhh,” Kurt whispers. He moves his hands up to grasp Blaine’s and holds them between their chests.
“It’s not okay. I hate missing you like this. I don’t want to be a mess every time we’re together just because it’s been too long. It’s always been too long. There’s never enough time.”
“I-I know, I know, but I’m here now. We’re here together and we’re going to make the most of our limited time. We’re very good at that by now, aren’t we?”
Blaine laughs and starts kissing underneath Kurt’s jaw. “We are.”
“Okay, then let’s…” Kurt’s eyes slide closed as Blaine immediately finds the spot on his neck that always reduces him to a puddle. Blaine never forgets where that is. “Yeah, that’s—that’s a good way to speed this up. We don’t want you to be late to the stage door.”
*
Blaine is late to the stage door. He gets photographed that night in a simple black sweater that’s a little too big on him, smelling of Tom Ford cologne and hairspray he doesn't use.
Back at his loft, Kurt curls up in a slightly too tight red hoodie, tucking his nose into the scent of Calvin Klein and raspberries as he falls asleep.
*****
They met at The Met.
Working for Vogue had obvious perks, one of which being that Kurt got to attend glitzy events at the Costume Institute as Isabelle Wright’s assistant.
Kurt and Blaine both found it amusing, now, that Kurt honestly hadn’t known who Blaine was. He’d heard of the Warblers, of course, but he hadn’t listened to their music or known them by name. When they both reached for the last mini-quiche on a floating waiter’s tray, their hands touching before either of them could grab it, Kurt found himself completely taken aback by the gorgeous, debonair boy in an extremely well-fit tux who smiled sheepishly back at him and said, “By all means,” as he stepped away from the tray.
Kurt was smitten, and so was Blaine, so much so that someone else snagged the snack as they stood there dumbstruck with each other.
“Damn. He who hesitates is lost,” Kurt sighed, his cheeks dimpling with a little laugh.
Blaine swallowed, his wide hazel eyes sparkling in the somewhat dim light of the ballroom. “You are totally right... Can I get you a drink?”
Neither of them had been 21 at the time, but no one carded at these things anyway.
Kurt held out his arm, and the rest was history.
*****
“Can I ask you something?” Kurt’s lips are soft and warm against Blaine’s sweaty forehead, both of them breathing slow and steady now that they’ve both come down from another excellent round of sex. The past two months have been a romantic whirlwind of quiet dates and long, sensuous nights, the boys indulging in their time together with abandon before The Warblers head out on their first international tour.
Blaine hums an affirmative.
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way—”
“A surefire guarantee that I’ll take it the wrong way,” Blaine says, chuckling nervously as he lifts his head and rests his chin on Kurt’s chest so they can look at each other.
God, he’s gorgeous, Kurt thinks, bringing a hand up to Blaine’s cheek. He’s fairly certain he’ll never get used to Blaine’s face, especially not when Blaine looks at him as patiently and attentively as he is right now. Blaine presses into his touch and covers Kurt’s hand with his own, his pink lips curving in a tiny smile, and Kurt feels his heart thump just a little bit harder.
“Blaine, I… I need us to keep this quiet. Could we not tell anyone about our relationship for a while?”
Blaine’s face falls as Kurt expected it to—though he’d naively hoped it wouldn’t—and he sits up on his knees, the hurt so evident in his expression that Kurt scrambles to clarify.
“Honey, let me explain,” he says, sitting up against the headboard and reaching for Blaine’s hand.
Blaine pulls away and clasps his hands together in his lap, looking somewhere to the right of Kurt’s face.
“Please, listen. It’s not because I’m ashamed to be with you or anything, I could never be, and I love you, but—”
The way Blaine’s face lights up despite his confusion makes Kurt realize what he’s just said. He’s never said it before. “Um, I didn’t mean to just blurt it like that. I’ve never said that to anyone. I mean, I’ve never felt that way about anyone for me to say it to them, and you don’t have to say it back just because I said it—”
Blaine’s hand closes around Kurt’s. “I love you, too.”
Kurt takes a deep breath. “Oh. Okay. Good.”
“Mmm. So, I love you and you love me, but you want to keep us a secret because…?”
Kurt sighs and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of their entwined hands to try and ground himself. “I’m trying to make a name for myself as a performer. When I came to NYADA, there were all these accusations of nepotism, people saying that I was only allowed in because Madame Tibideaux likes me or because I’m friends with Rachel Berry.”
“Idiots,” Blaine says immediately, his mouth pulled in a dismissive little squiggle. “That’s just jealousy, Kurt. You are the most talented person I’ve ever met.”
“You’ve met Justin Timberlake. And Beyonce. And Lin-Manuel Miranda. And—”
Blaine presses a finger against Kurt’s lips. “You are the most talented person I’ve ever met. You’re incredible. I believe in you. Don’t you?”
“I do, but it has always been so difficult to get everyone else to believe, too. I need to make it on my own merit, and if people know I’m dating you, they’ll say that’s how I did it.”
“But I’m not—”
Kurt arches an eyebrow.
“...I’m not that famous,” Blaine mumbles, ducking his head in embarrassment.
Kurt snorts and leans forward to kiss Blaine’s forehead. “I need people to know me as Kurt Hummel before they know me as ‘Blaine Anderson’s boyfriend.’ They need to look at me and see me before they see us, baby.”
Blaine sighs, but he’s smiling in a reassuring sort of way when he looks up at him. “Okay. I get that. And I respect you a lot for it, I want you to know that. You really are a star, Kurt.”
“I—thank you.”
“You were going to say ‘I know,’ weren’t you?”
“...Yes.”
They laugh into another kiss and Blaine sighs, “Just one of the many reasons I love you.”
*****
NYADA is a competitive school, to say the least.
For all the jealous, bottom-feeding haters occupying its halls, there are far more students who keep their focus on their studies, working hard to be the best and earn their lucky breaks. They are talented, and they are driven, and each wants it more than the next.
Kurt pours all of his energy into his schoolwork. Then he musters up some more for his part-time work at Vogue.com, and a bit more after that when he starts working at the Spotlight Diner as well. He practices at home, moving the living room furniture out of the way to give himself space, and he memorizes scenes and monologues well into the night.
Even if his diligent behavior wasn’t keeping him at the top of his game, Kurt would still be thankful for the distraction it provides. Missing Blaine can only hurt so much when Kurt constantly has to concentrate on the task at hand, and it gives him something to talk about when he and Blaine make time to Skype. At first, Kurt had been embarrassed to discuss his school woes with him, because while Kurt was in class, Blaine was rehearsing for his next live performance in Europe or wherever, but Blaine had assured him that he didn’t find the conversation trivial. On the contrary, Blaine finds it fascinating; the Warblers had blown up right after they graduated high school, so Blaine had never attended college or had a job.
So, for every story Blaine tells of the Warblers’ misadventures on their last tour stop, or their rumored a capella supergroup duet with Pentatonix, or the tension that's been brewing between Jake and Ryder over fresh-faced singer-songwriter Marley Rose ever since the VMAs, he asks for Kurt’s tales of cutthroat young theatre starlets, fashion office drama, and ridiculous guests at the diner.
Kurt’s borderline obsessive work ethic even surprises Rachel at times. No matter how often she invites him to small gatherings with her cluster of NYADA friends, or out to clubs with Tina and Mercedes, he declines more often than not. And when Rachel tries to slip Kurt phone numbers from male classmates who have expressed interest and asked after him, he refuses outright.
“I’m not interested, Rachel.”
“But, Kurt…” Rachel scoots closer on their couch, watching him with big, sad brown eyes as she rests her head on one hand. “I thought New York was supposed to be your opportunity to find love. That’s what you said when we left Lima.”
“It was,” he answers vaguely, his face carefully neutral.
“The opportunity isn’t lost, you know. I mean, just because you haven’t met anyone you really like yet doesn’t mean he isn’t out there. I just want you to be happy.”
Kurt looks up at her then. If there were anyone he could tell about Blaine...
“I don’t need anyone to find me a boyfriend. I’m happy, I promise.”
It’s the most truthful answer he can give her. It also matches the one Blaine gives when he finds himself stuck in similar conversations.
It works for them, usually.
*****
Blaine’s face glows on the laptop screen, surrounded by darkness. He’s lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, and he’s got his covers over his head. “We have to be quiet. Sam’s asleep.”
“Rachel, too. I can’t wait to live in an apartment with walls. At least Sam sleeps like a rock.” Kurt’s on his back with his laptop on his chest. He has his earphones plugged in, one in his ear and the other free so that he can hear if Rachel stirs. “What time is it where you are?”
“A little after one. I’m only an hour behind tonight.”
“Oh, that’s right. Chicago?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Okay. God, you have no idea how much I need this right now.”
“Long day?” Blaine shifts on the screen, the muscles in his arm bulging as he reaches down and out of the frame. There’s a slight rustle of fabric. Then Blaine’s eyes close momentarily, his mouth drops open a little, and Kurt knows he’s touching himself.
Kurt does the same, his face the only part of him that’s actually visible on Blaine’s side. He pulls himself out of his underwear and rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, then licks his lips and says, “Yeah, every class was crazy today. And then I got called in to cover the rest of someone’s shift at the diner because one of the other waiters went home sick.”
Blaine’s hand enters the frame again as he licks his palm, then disappears when he returns it to his cock. He swallows, stifling a groan, and says, “You work so hard, baby. I hope you’re taking care of yourself.” He’s pouting, even as his expression goes tense with arousal.
Kurt’s mesmerized by it, the way that Blaine’s long, dark lashes flutter over half-closed eyes, and his eyebrows, already furrowed with concern, scrunch up even further. He watches the way Blaine’s lips part, his breath becoming heavier, and begins sliding his hand up and down his cock, pouring all his focus into how hot Blaine looks when he’s turned on. “I’m exhausted, but I’ll live,” Kurt sighs, feeling himself start to flush. It feels so good to relax with Blaine like this, just watching each other get off and chatting about their days. “Wha—unh—what about you? You've barely had time to breathe this week, between performances, press, meet-and-greets—is that Gaga cover still giving you trouble?”
“I love how quickly your cheeks get red, it's so cute,” Blaine remarks, grinning with his eyes all crinkled up. His smile falters for a second, a moan fighting to escape him before he continues, “And no, not anymore. We gave the higher scale progression to Jake. His falsetto is stronger. Seb’s mad about it.”
Kurt squirts a little lube in his hand and keeps stroking himself. “Mmm… I didn’t ask about Sebastian, Blaine. But I assume he wanted the part?”
“No, it’s just—he and I were partners on that harmony. He was, um... happy with that. Now I’m paired with Ryder.”
“I see.”
“But enough about that,” Blaine says, shifting on the bed so that he can lay on his back while he holds his phone in one hand and keeps jerking himself off in the other. The blanket covers his face for a second before he adjusts his arm and makes it a tent once more. “Tell me what you’re imagining right now.”
Kurt spots the way Blaine’s arm speeds up, his shoulder shaking with the movement. He speeds up to match. “I wasn’t imagining anything. Just looking at you. I love how you look when you’re getting off.” He thinks of the last time he saw Blaine come in person, about three weeks ago, the way his body went tight and collapsed at the same time as he curled and bent over on top of Kurt, welcoming Kurt to wrap his arms around Blaine’s back. Kurt had barely been able to watch his expression at the time, with Blaine squeezing around him and pinning Kurt’s hips to the bed with his ass, but now, he gets to see. He’ll save imagining for when Blaine isn’t already in front of him.
Blaine suddenly jerks up into his fist, moaning out loud this time and crossing his arm over his mouth to muffle it, accidentally bringing the phone way too close to his face so that only his clenched-shut eye is visible.
Kurt bites his lip to stop himself making noises of his own. “Shhh, honey.”
“Can’t help it,” Blaine whines, though his voice is much softer when he says it. He pulls the phone away from his face again. “You looked the same way. Really turned on, I mean. I want to be there with you, I want to feel you.” He tilts his head back, and Kurt can see him swallowing and biting his bottom lip, his chest heaving with breaths he can barely keep quiet. With a strained grunt, he whispers, “Please keep talking, I can’t, I—I’ll get too loud, I know I will.”
Kurt’s cock throbs in his fist, and as he thumbs around and over the head again, he can feel himself starting to leak onto his stomach. He’s harder than he’s been in weeks; one benefit of his physical distance from his boyfriend is that it never takes them long to take care of themselves this way. He’s closer to coming than he wanted or expected to be at this point—they never have enough time to take their time—but so is Blaine, it seems. “Can we just watch each other? I don’t—ugh, fuck, Blaine—”
And so they continue, their faces the only parts of each other that they can see, so that they are simply watching each other’s arousal without being able to see what the other is actually doing. They boil down to their expressions, the shapes their mouths make, the way Blaine’s eyebrows lift into sharp triangles when his nose scrunches up on a whine and Kurt loses his breath at the sight of it. Blaine’s movements change every few minutes; Kurt isn’t sure if he’s stroking his cock or rubbing in between his cheeks when this happens, but he doesn’t need to. Seeing how good Blaine’s making himself feel is enough. Kurt has both hands at his disposal, with his laptop on his chest like this, and he uses them to rub underneath his balls as he jerks himself in increasingly fast strokes from root to tip.
Kurt’s going to come any second now, his face flushed in the cool blue light from his computer. He casts his half-lidded eyes at the screen, trying to gauge how close Blaine is, but as soon as he asks, “Baby?” Blaine’s mouth drops open in a silent, shuddering gasp and a few drops of pearly white cum hits his chin.
Kurt whimpers through his orgasm, coming in long spurts over his hand and stomach with his other hand covering his mouth.
Blaine drops his phone on his face, a sound somewhere between a startled moan and a pained grunt ripping from his throat as he does so.
They can’t help themselves; Kurt starts giggling silently, even as the aftershocks pulse through him, and so does Blaine, who pulls his phone away from his face and licks at the bit of cum on his chin that he can reach.
“Blaine, come on man, keep it down…”
“Was that Jake?” Kurt snorts, running a hand through his hair. “Jake is not your bus roommate, how loud are you being?”
Blaine lifts his blanket from his head and glances somewhere off-screen. “Not loud enough to wake Sam, apparently, but I forgot what a light sleeper Jake is… Sorry, man!”
Kurt hears disgruntled mumbling in the background.
“Jake says hey,” Blaine says, his drowsy, sated smile crinkling his eyes up in that way Kurt absolutely adores. He sort of glows when he smiles like that.
The “I miss you” sticks in Kurt’s throat, a heavy, aching knot in his chest that he can barely breathe around, growing and growing the longer he looks at Blaine. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out of his mouth so that he doesn’t start tearing up on camera and says, “I think it’s way past both of our bedtimes, B. Get some sleep. I love you.”
“Aw, okay. I love you, too, baby. Goodnight.”
*****
“Oh, dear god, the fandom is imploding,” Tina announces one day when they’re hanging out in the living room of Kurt and Rachel’s apartment. Neither Kurt nor Rachel has to ask which fandom she’s talking about as she hurriedly starts swiping at things on her phone. Kurt doesn't even look up from the costume he's hand-sewing.
Tina’s fixation with the Warblers has always been a bit weird for Kurt, knowing that she writes explicit—and very popular—fanfiction about Blaine and his bandmates in any number of combinations with each other, however inaccurate her “tiny innocent cupcake” portrayal of Blaine may be. Though, Kurt has to admit, Tina’s online exploits keep him in tune with what people know and don’t know about the Warblers, right from the front lines with their most dedicated fan.
Plus, Kurt loves seeing how much other people love Blaine. When people are fawning over him, dissecting every little tic in his facial expressions, putting together photo edits of his red carpet looks from every angle… well, once he sets aside the obsessiveness of it all, it gives Kurt a little surge of pride, knowing he’s with such an adored man. He likes that Blaine is in the spotlight, and Kurt can’t wait until he has lights of his own so he can join him.
“What is it?” asks Rachel. “Did they announce more tour dates?”
“No, there was an interview last night with Cooper, and one this morning with Blaine. Someone asked Cooper if he had anyone special in his life, and he said no, and then the interviewer asked if Blaine had anyone—you know Blaine is notoriously quiet on the subject—and asked if there was any truth to the rumors about him and Sebastian because they’d make a cute couple—I don’t know who the hell this interviewer thought he was, but whatever—and Cooper said something like, ‘I know, right?’ which did not answer the question, so the Blam shippers got pissed and the Seblaine shippers took it as confirmation. And then in the interview Blaine did this morning, someone asked him the same thing, and he said he’s not on the market but that he’s happy, and the Seblaine shippers fucking lost it because of what Cooper had just said, but there was also footage from the end of their show in L.A. last night where Blam was being really, really touchy with each other, so the Blam shippers are rioting because that’s more likely who Blaine was talking about, and of course half this shit went down when I was asleep because it was happening on west coast time, and my dashboard is a mess right now.”
Tina says all of this in a very short space of time, and seemingly without the need to take a breath. Kurt and Rachel just frown at her until she throws her hands in the air and scoots closer to Rachel on the couch.
“See? See? Look how close they are! Look at that hug! Look at how they’re looking at each other! You can’t tell me Sam doesn’t have feelings for him.” Tina’s brandishing her phone in Rachel’s face, swiping up and down on some photoset of Sam and Blaine from the L.A. show.
Rachel scoffs and pulls out her own phone, tapping away. “They’re best friends, Tina, of course they’re really close. For the gazillionth time, Sam is straight. Did you see that picture he took with Kitty Wilde yesterday?”
“That super obvious beard picture?” Tina asks venomously. “Yeah, I saw it.”
Kurt smiles to himself, the absurdity of this conversation far more amusing than usual because Tina’s so worked up about it. Sam and Blaine are best friends; they trust each other implicitly and are constantly watching out for each other. As a matter of fact, it comforts Kurt to know that Blaine has Sam with him through the madness that is their professional lives, since Kurt can’t be. Sam has even been known to text Kurt when Blaine’s running himself ragged.
“Tina, look at this, right after that hug, do you see that look in Sebastian’s eyes after Blaine hugs him? That dirty smile he gives him? See his hands around Blaine’s waist? They’ve definitely hooked up before. Ugh, the way he just towers over him... God, Sebastian would eat him alive…”
Kurt takes a deep breath through his nose. Sebastian likes to use the secrecy surrounding Kurt and Blaine’s relationship as an invitation to hit on Blaine in public, as if he doesn’t take them seriously and Kurt doesn’t actually exist.
“We need your objective opinion, Kurt, look!” Rachel shoves her phone in his face. There’s a slowed-down gifset of Blaine and Sebastian hugging at the concert; Sebastian’s eyes—and hands—linger on Blaine’s body as he takes his time letting go of him.
The discomfort is swift and sharp as it edges up Kurt’s spine. His hands tense around his work, and he accidentally pokes his forefinger with the needle. He swears, sticking his sore fingertip in his mouth, and says, “It’s interesting that you both have completely removed Blaine’s agency from this whole thing. Like the only thing determining either of these non-existent relationships is whether Sam or Sebastian wants him, like he’s just up for grabs.”
Tina and Rachel both stare at him.
“Well, why wouldn’t he want Sam?”
“Have you seen Sebastian Smythe, Kurt?”
“Oh my god, you ship Blake, don’t you!”
“Raine, I bet. Kurt’s got a thing for really tall guys.”
Kurt closes his eyes and counts to ten. Times like these make him wish that everyone knew, if only to end these stupid rumors.
That night, bent over his boyfriend’s smaller, jetlagged body as he fucks into him, Kurt curls a hand around Blaine’s cock and rasps into his ear, “Tell me.”
Blaine reaches back and grasps Kurt’s hair, pulling their faces close together and panting against his mouth, “There’s no one else.” He spreads himself a little more, letting Kurt in as much as he can, and when the arm he’s using to hold himself up starts to wobble, Kurt wraps his arm around Blaine’s chest and pulls him back to sit in his lap, kissing and murmuring how much he loves him into the back of his neck.
This is something each of them needs from time to time, whenever the distance strains a little tighter than usual and one of them struggles to remember that he carries the other with him wherever he goes. Kurt’s aggravated thoughts of Sebastian are forgotten, for the moment, though the air remains a little tense.
Arriving late to Miss July’s class the next morning and being forced to run through his arabesques by himself in front of everyone is worth it, but just barely.
*****
NYADA doesn’t relent, and when Kurt ends his internship with Vogue, he picks up another project, directing elderly performers in quirky productions right inside their retirement home. The hours align better with his classes and the diner, and his one-off performances at the local cabaret bar, Callbacks, plus the fact that Blaine is currently somewhere in Australia with more limited time to talk than usual, but that just means Kurt has even less downtime than before.
He’s proud of himself and all the things he manages to do, but the pace is non-stop, and Kurt barely has space to breathe.
Kurt is starting to make a name for himself outside of NYADA, though. He is impossible to miss in the retirement home’s production of Peter Pan, being the only actor under the age of 70 and playing Peter himself. His name starts to carry a bit of buzz behind it. People he’s never seen before at NYADA and Callbacks seem to recognize him. The local theatre scene takes notice.
Blaine notices all this work, too, but for the wrong reasons. They don’t talk as much, and Kurt is irritable when they do, his fuse already shortened by whatever has happened in the day. They feel their distance more than ever, both becoming even more frustrated than usual by the space between them. And, as frustration loves to do, one grievance just brings up another.
Blaine continues telling anyone who asks that he’s unavailable, and it only fuels the rumors even further, so that Tina’s blog—and therefore Kurt’s dashboard—is plastered in gifsets of Blaine with various famous men who are not Kurt.
Kurt misses three Skype dates. When Kurt tells Blaine that he’ll miss a fourth date, their first in-person date in ages, it’s the last straw.
Blaine is silent on the other end of the phone, long enough that Kurt starts to fidget and play with the hem of his t-shirt where he sits on the edge of his bed. “Blaine?”
“I haven’t been in New York in a month and a half. I haven’t seen you, haven’t touched you, anything… in a month and a half. I’m finally back and you’re telling me that you have to—to work on your pirouettes or whatever and that that’s more important than being with me—”
“Blaine, no, it’s—I need me-time—”
“You have had nothing but me-time, I just said we haven’t seen each other in over a month, Kurt!”
“My me-time has nothing to do with you! It’s not just ‘time when I’m not with Blaine,’ my life doesn’t stop just because you’re not here to see it! I am exhausted and I need time alone and this isn’t about us!”
“We agreed that we would see each other whenever we both could—”
“And I’m telling you that tonight, I can’t!”
“You can. You’ve chosen not to.”
“I don’t just sit here twiddling my thumbs and pining when you’re not here, you know. My life goes on. I’m not waiting for you!”
Blaine goes quiet again. Kurt hopes he finally gets it, that this argument is over, but—
“You won’t wait for me?”
Kurt puts a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant,” he answers quietly.
“You won’t even tell people you’re my boyfriend.”
“You know why, that’s not fair…”
“This is what it takes to be together, Kurt. We make time. We have to. I thought we were both committed to this. If you don’t miss me, just say so.”
“I am, and I do. Of course I do.” Kurt doesn’t have the energy for this fight. The wind’s gone completely from his sails and he doesn’t know how to explain any of this to Blaine if he doesn’t understand it already. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid by avoiding Blaine altogether—
“I don’t believe you,” Blaine says. Then he hangs up.
Kurt takes the phone from his ear, looking at the screen to make sure that’s what happened. It’s there all right; Call Ended in neat white letters, the timer on the call no longer moving forward. His heart pounds and furious tears rush to the corners of his eyes. Blaine never hangs up on him. Ever. Phone calls are sacred, being their primary source of communication. This is crossing a line.
Just when Kurt’s about to give into his frustration and cry, his phone buzzes.
I’m really sorry for hanging up on you I just needed to stop talking about it. I need some space to think but I was getting too upset and I should’ve just said that
I love you
You don’t have to text back
Kurt takes a deep breath and doubles over, resting his forehead on his folded arms. They are screwing this up, royally so, if not responding to each other has become an option.
I love you too. We can take some space tonight and talk in the morning.
He sits his phone on the bed and stands, wrapping his arms around himself. Space is a good thing. They’ll take this time to clear their heads and get back on the same page and everything will be fine. Space is what he wanted tonight, isn’t it?
Kurt presses his fingertips to the headache building under his temples and sits back down. Getting what he wants isn’t supposed to hurt this much.
*
Are you still up?
I haven’t had a normal person’s sleep schedule in a year
And I’m kind of preoccupied tonight
I’m taking that as a yes
The fact that I’m texting you wasn’t a yes?
Ok smartass
So… it turns out I needed less space than I thought. Am I still welcome?
Of course baby, I don’t want to break up with you
:/ I just meant tonight, I’m outside your building
Ffs
You just have to do everything on your own time, don’t you
The night doorman smiles politely at Kurt when he enters the lobby. Kurt is on the list of guests allowed to enter Blaine’s apartment building without being escorted upstairs by a resident, and the fact that Kurt’s here so late doesn’t faze him at all. “Mr. Anderson called down for you a couple hours ago.”
“Yes, I’m… running late,” Kurt sighs, forcing himself not to dwell on the fact that Blaine had let the doorman know before they even spoke about it, never expecting Kurt to not show up.
When he reaches Blaine’s floor, Blaine is waiting for him in the doorway of his apartment, wearing a black sweater Kurt recognizes as his own, loose curls, and a pair of boxers. He looks disheveled and perfect. Seeing him now, Kurt can’t believe he didn’t come here sooner. Every minute he spent in his apartment after their phone call made him feel more and more alone, and not in the way he wanted.
“Hey,” Blaine says, sounding as weary as Kurt feels. “Nice sweater.”
Kurt looks down at himself, pulling at Blaine’s red hoodie as if he can suddenly make the sleeves long enough. “Yours too. Great minds think alike?”
“I’d like to think so.” Blaine sighs and shakes his head, smiling in an exasperated sort of way. “What are you doing here?”
Kurt looks at him for a long moment before he sniffles, “We’ve been separated by thousands of miles and incompatible time zones and the dumbest celebrity gossip imaginable, but I’ve never missed you more than I do right this second.”
“Kurt…” Blaine takes his hand and pulls him into the apartment, closing the door behind them. He immediately wraps Kurt in his arms and rubs his back. “Come here. I’ve missed you, too. We’ve kind of been all over the place lately.”
“I’m sorry, I just—Blaine, I’m so tired. I should have come here from the start instead of pushing you away. I don’t know why I was being so stupid.” Kurt buries his face in Blaine’s neck and clings, relishing the feeling of Blaine holding him like this.
“You weren’t being stupid.”
“Maybe I forgot how good it feels to be with you. Even when it feels like I’m barely holding on, you keep me connected. Like right now. If I’d come over here earlier, we would have been fine.”
Blaine squeezes him. “Maybe, maybe not. I think we were both being selfish. I mean, I know you need time to recharge alone when you’re stressed, but I missed you so much that I thought I could just bypass that. If I’d tried to make you come over here when you weren’t ready, it would have made things worse.”
“Mmm.”
“But I meant what I said about making time for each other. We’ve both been really bad at that.”
Kurt nods against his neck. “Can we start fixing that now? I… I know it’s been a while, but I wasn’t lying about being tired. I’d love to just sleep with you. And I mean sleep.”
Blaine pulls back, nestling his thumbs behind Kurt’s ears as he cradles Kurt’s head and gently kisses him. The touch of his lips sparks the wave of relief Kurt’s been waiting for ever since he stepped foot in this apartment. He grips Blaine’s hips and presses their foreheads together.
“Best idea you’ve had all night,” Blaine teases, taking his hand and guiding him to the bedroom.
*
Kurt wakes in the morning with an ache in his neck and one numb arm, his body entangled with Blaine’s in a way that felt cozy and intimate when they fell asleep, but isn’t so comfortable now. Still, he hasn’t felt this rested in weeks. He wonders what it would be like to wake up with Blaine all the time, to not have to sneak out the back door of Blaine’s apartment building, to meet the daytime doorman for once, to not have to be evasive and secretive when his friends and family ask about his love life or try to set him up with one.
He should be in class. He doesn’t care. Nothing feels more important at this moment than staying right where he is.
Kurt smiles to himself, a bold idea taking shape in his head as he reaches for his phone. Having one less thing to overthink sounds amazing right now.
Blaine rouses when Kurt slips his arm free from under Blaine’s head and leans over him to get to the nightstand, his long eyelashes batting slowly as he looks up at Kurt with a serene little smile on his face. “You’re still here. I thought you had class this morning.”
Kurt shrugs, leaning down to kiss him. “Mmm. Good morning. Wanna take a selfie?”
Blaine laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in adorable confusion. “Sure, babe.” He looks up at Kurt’s phone, preparing to smile, when—
“Kurt, wait! You accidentally opened Instagram.”
“It wasn’t an accident.”
“Oh? But… Oh. Kurt?” Blaine’s voice is soft, carefully hopeful, like he doesn’t dare believe it.
“Smile, honey.”
“Oh my god.”
They take pictures on both of their phones. The photo they take for Kurt’s account has Blaine smushing their faces together as he presses a kiss to his cheek, while Kurt grins with all his teeth showing and his eyes squeezed shut. The photo they take for Blaine’s account has Kurt resting his forehead against Blaine’s temple, nosing sweetly at his cheek with half-lidded eyes, while Blaine beams at the camera, head-on.
“Tagged?”
“Yep. Yours?”
“Yeah... Are you sure you're ready? The Warblers’ fans get kind of… intense. And personal.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “I'm ready, I swear. I'm friends with one of your biggest fans, remember? I've seen what happens on her side, I've read some of the fanfiction. And I promise, I won't discuss us with her.”
“Wait, you never said you read her porn!”
“It's not all porn, not that there'd be anything wrong with that. And I only read a few stories. Her stuff about you and Jake is pretty hot, actually.”
Blaine puts a hand over his eyes and groans, and Kurt just laughs and kisses his nose.
They post the photos at the exact same time, then put their phones on the nightstand and snuggle back into bed. The fallout is swift.
*
@acapellawarbleretta: “like I said, I’m off the market” are yOU KIDDING MESDFJFH
@blamsmash: @acapellawarbleretta HE’S BEEN SAYING THAT FOR A THOUSAND YEARS HOW HAVE WE NEVER SEEN HIM BEFORE WHO IS HE?
@seblaineydays: is that sebastian’s even more elfin brother cuz like
@subbysebby: @seblaineydays YOOOOOOOO
@theraineinspain: is this guy as big as ryder, that’s the real question. blaine is v smol cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs
@blakequake: how many more poc otps must I lose, god, why
@blamsmash: /)u(\ oh my god they’re so cute together these are the sweetest photos we have been #blessed on this day
@evandersons: ok there must REALLY be too much heat on sam if they had to get a prop boyfriend for blaine :/ JUST COME OUT HONEY
@lalalalibretto: @evandersons I can literally see your tinhat from my house and I live across the atlantic
@acapellawarbleretta: @lalalalibretto @evandersons lmaooooooo
@evandersons: @lalalalibretto #blocked
@honeybeeblainerz: uhhhh blaine’s boyf is super hot tho????? heLP
@whambamthankyousam: @honeybeeblainerz bruh
@ridemeryder: @whambamthankyousam @honeybeeblainerz CAN! WE! DISCUSS! THIS! ANGEL!!!!??!1
@honeybeeblainerz: @ridemeryder @whambamthankyousam I am not having “angelic” thoughts about this man, I tell you what. @asianpersuasian how fast can u fic
@andersmythex: @ridemeryder @whambamthankyousam @honeybeeblainers I JUST WENT THROUGH KURT'S PHOTOS, HE IS NOT OF THIS EARTH
@andersmythex: @khummel @blaineanderson just fuck me up
@acapellawarbleretta: let’s all focus on the most pressing issue at hand: “BLURT” OR “KLAINE?”
@blamsmash: but for real who the fuck is kurt hummel
@devonevans: kurt’s caption “don’t ever look back” fml that slowed down teenage dream arrangement blaine did, it was for him wasn’t it, it’s THEIR SONG isn’t it oh god Im cry ;u;
@blamsmash: @asianpersuasian WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE HOLY SHITFSKADF DF AREN’T YOU FRIENDS WITH HIM??? I RECOGNIZE HIMF ROM YOUR INSTA FEED O_O
@lalalalibretto: @blamsmash @asianpersuasion what the fuck. TINA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
@asianpersuasian: holy fucking shit.
@asianpersuasian: ...I can’t.