Length: 6,700 words
Genre: AU Angst/Romance/Fluff
Warnings: This was written while I was sleep-deprived.
Summary: It’d been five years. Five years since he’d met Blaine, and therefore five years since he’d developed feelings for Blaine, seeing as he was instantly love-struck upon first sight. That also meant that it had been five years of Kurt pining after Blaine, while Blaine was oblivious, thinking of him only as a dear friend.
Author's Note: This is set 4 years in the future from Christmas time of Season Three. But it's AU from the episode "Sexy" and onwards, because in this fic, Kurt and Blaine never got together-- just stayed good friends throughout all those years. Also, this is one of those fics where I think it's the best thing ever while writing it, but afterwards I think it's crap-- rushed pacing, slightly unrealistic fluff, etc. So, go in with no expectations, and I think you should be alright!
December 2nd, 2015
It’s gotten colder here, too. But since this is the ‘Windy City’, it’s a bitter cold that I can assure you is much worse. I’ve experienced both a New York winter and now a Chicago one, and I’d take NYC any day. But hey-- at least it gives me a wonderful excuse to use every item in my scarf collection. But then, when have I ever needed an excuse?
I haven’t done much other than run to get coffee so far, but they told me to expect that, so it’s not too much of a surprise. The other day I happened to just be -there- when the higher-ups were debating over colors and fabrics though, and they asked for my opinion. I was a bit of a ‘deer in the headlights’ at first, but you know how eager I am to offer my opinion on any subject, most of all fashion. But anyway-- I think they were impressed. They asked me to come up with some sketches for something small they’re working on by next week, at any rate.
You would think that after New York, every other big city would be a piece of cake. But really, it’s even more imposing here. Everything just seems infinitely larger and less welcoming. I doubt that has to do anything with the city itself, and it’s more of my skewed perception of it, but the fact remains that I find Chicago very cruel and unwelcoming. You’ll probably say I’m just stubborn
and a little homesick. I’m doing alright, though. Found a few tidbits to give the apartment some color. (who decides on dark grey-beige for a color scheme, anyway?)
Anyway, I’ve got to go if I want to make it home before dark. I didn’t get lost for the first time in two weeks today! Achievement! How are / were (depending on when you get this) finals? Are you going to Westerville for the holidays?
Write back soon,
It seemed simple enough-- nothing too personal or pining, but still very much him. Nodding in satisfaction, Kurt sealed the letter inside the envelope and checked it once more before letting it disappear into the bright blue mailbox outside the Fashion Centre.
It’d been five years. Five years since he’d met Blaine, and therefore five years since he’d developed feelings for Blaine, seeing as he was instantly love-struck upon first sight. That also meant that it had been five years of Kurt pining after Blaine, while Blaine was oblivious, thinking of him only as a dear friend. A best friend-- the kind of friend you do everything with and talk about everything with. The friend that you’re practically joined at the hip to, and feel no shame at that fact. But still just a friend, and nothing more.
Don’t get him wrong-- Kurt loved what he had with Blaine. Back in high school, back before the Warblers and Dalton, he didn’t even dare to dream of having someone like Blaine in his life, because he knew that it wouldn’t come true. But it did. It did, and it would have surpassed any expectations he’d had, if he’d allowed himself to hope; Blaine was kind and caring, thoughtful and almost entirely too selfless for his own good. He was always there whenever Kurt needed him, no matter what. They agreed on nearly everything, and on things they didn’t, they didn’t just accept their differences, but embraced them and learned from one another. They made each other better friends and better people overall, and Kurt would be thankful to have Blaine in his life even as a mild acquaintance, let alone best friend.
But being the best friend meant that Kurt was the person who Blaine would run to to talk about his relationships, whether to rant or gush or just ask for advice. Kurt would give Blaine whatever he needed and be there for him, always; but it was with a pang as he listened to whatever it was that Blaine told him, thinking that Kurt would have treated him better, or why hadn’t Kurt thought of that? Or why can’t it be me that you’re talking about?
Blaine’s relationships were few and far between, but he put his heart and soul into them, and they were of long duration. But while Blaine’s longest relationship in the past five years was at just over a year, Kurt’s was at a pathetic three months. Everyone was too picky or too bossy, or too vague or indecisive. This guy was too tall, and that guy was too loud. But really, the problem was that none of them were Blaine. It wasn’t that Kurt would go looking for a Blaine-clone to date-- rather that Blaine had set the standard of the ‘perfect boyfriend’ for him so high that no one else ever seemed to reach it.
But Kurt was really beginning to think that that standard was more of a curse. He knew he wasn’t going to get the man of his dreams-- he’d accepted it long ago, even though he still clung on to the faintest sliver of a hope. But now, Kurt just wanted to be happy. Of course, Kurt was happy when he was around Blaine, but there was always that lingering tinge of longing that came with it. He wanted to know what it felt like to really love and be loved in return, and be able to be open and expressive about that love. And if the second-best man of his dreams could give him that, then he wouldn’t be so bad, standard be damned.
And so, after five long years, Kurt finally decided that it was about time he tried his hardest to toss aside the standard he’d subconsciously set, along with whatever was left of that hope.
It was time to move on.
He set off at a quick pace, eager to both warm up his body by doing so and to get closer to the next source of warmth as soon as possible. Public transport was never his ideal mode of transportation in the cold, because there was still a ways to walk after you’d technically reached your destination. But still, he’d managed. He’d managed in New York after all these years, and he could certainly do so in Chicago.
A part of him still questioned himself, why Chicago? There were plenty of reputable fashion internships in New York City, for sure. But instead of the three other acceptances to his applications in that city he’d received, Kurt had decided to take the offer back in the dreaded Midwest-- the place he’d fought so hard to escape from little more than four years ago. But it wasn’t like Chicago was hideously uncultured, after all, and it was a big city, not some other cow town. It was a change of scenery, he defended himself whenever someone asked; and when that wasn’t enough to convince his closest and most skeptical friends and family, he argued that as an up-and-coming designer, it would only be beneficial to create as many new connections as possible.
It might also be beneficial, as a young man who still felt like a boy in many ways, to resolve things with old connections.
He supposed that, even though his other reasons were very solid and good, that the real driving factor that subconsciously sat in the back of his mind the day he’d made the decision about internships was the fact that Chicago was decidedly far from New York, and therefore also far from Blaine. He didn’t even realize that was why he’d taken up the offer at first, but it took him all of ten seconds of consoling Blaine through his then-recent mutual break up with Tristan, or Leonardo, or some name as equally obnoxious (Kurt later remembered that his name was John) to realize that he really needed some space.
He needed some time on his own, to try to live on his own, away from Blaine. Blaine was and had always been a constant pillar of support in his life, and maybe he could be again one day. Probably. Kurt hoped so, in fact. But not now. It had been nearly five years since any prospect of a relationship between them had been shot down, and Kurt was still in the process of bidding those hopes goodbye. No-- he really needed some time to himself. Time to get over Blaine in any romantic light, and to try to find a way to be truly happy.
Kurt turned the key into his tiny apartment, in the Uptown suburb a few minutes North of downtown. The falsely cheery woman in charge had assured him that the apartment complex that they rent out for interns and employees alike was recently renovated and just a short walk from numerous parks and beaches (though he had no idea what good the latter perks would be in December), and would be perfectly suitable for a young, single man. She was right, for the most part-- the windows were drafty and the floors creaked, but that was to be expected, really, and it was actually much better off than his dreary shoebox of a flat back in New York City. But for all of the comforts of a practically new residence and a new internship to boot, Kurt still found himself longing for the tiny space he shared with Blaine back home; leaky ceilings, low water pressure, and boisterous neighbors included.
No-- stop. You’re not supposed to be thinking like that, Kurt mentally chastised himself, groaning aloud into the silence as he sunk down onto the hideously drab and uncomfortable loveseat. He took this offer to try to move on, and he was never going to be able to do that if he kept pining for his own apartment, where he cuddled with Blaine on their (much more comfortable, if as equally unstylish) sofa to fight against the damp winters.
Instead, Kurt curled into a ball inside his oversized cardigan, wrapping his arms around himself as he slowly drifted off to sleep, trying to get used to the solitude.
- - -
Kurt received a letter from Blaine exactly six days later. And so, he realized that the only way that could have been possible was if Blaine had overnighted his. He was torn between being touched and rolling his eyes in frustration at the gesture-- or, frustrated that he was feeling touched by it, really. He was just getting along well enough, or so he’d thought. But really, who was he kidding? Kurt had just been employing his tried-and-true method of keeping himself so busy that any thoughts other than work had no choice but to be pushed into the deepest confines of his mind. And if he was going to be realistic, people didn’t just fall out of a love that spanned five years in one week, after all. It was going to take time, and patience; both of which Kurt wasn’t really in the mood for, but what other choice did he have?
Separating the deep blue envelope from some junk mail or other and setting the latter promptly in the trash, Kurt sat down at his wobbly kitchen ‘table’ as he opened the letter and began to read, unknowingly letting the familiarity of the chicken-scratch cursive set comfort deep and steadily into him.
You’re killing me, Kurt.
Kurt’s eyebrows skyrocketed into his perfectly coiffed hairline. Well. That was certainly an unexpected opening. Beyond curious, he read on:
Yes, I know I’m supposed to write a date and a greeting and all that, but I’m too annoyed with you right now, so I’m just going to say that it’s the eighth of December, and I’m writing to... well, you.
But really, this “only written letters” rule? It’s just not working for me.
Wait. What? Kurt started, watching all of his delicate and intricate plans fly right out his second story window and into the dirty snowdrift along the curb.
You do realize that that means we’d only be able to write maybe five letters to each other, max? Well, of course you realized it-- you always know of all these tiny details. But I’m not so clever, and this just doesn’t sit well with me, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to break your rule.
Kurt actually gaped at the words he was reading. No! No, no, no--
You can go ahead and keep writing me your stupidly slow and dull (yes Kurt, they are dull-- don’t look at me like that) letters, one at a time, but I’m going to ignore all of that. I am completely unashamed to say that I miss my best friend like my hair misses its gel every morning when I wake up, and like your scarves miss you in the hot summer months. And I am going to write you whenever I want, and however I want. I’m thinking a written letter once or twice a week, with an email every day and a few of my usual incessant texts. Does that sound good to you? I’m sure you don’t really know what to say right now, so I’m just going to answer for you and say that I think it sounds perfect.
I’ll talk to you soon! Lots of love,
For a few moments, Kurt could do nothing but blankly stare at the letter held in both his hands, not quite sure what to do. After a while, he turned it over to see if there was a “Ha! Fooled you!” on the back, but it was empty. Empty and blank and void of any use, just like all of his planning.
- - -
Blaine made true his word the very next day-- sure enough, when Kurt checked his email, there was a message sitting in it with the ever-so-eloquent and descriptive title of “:) :) :)”. Sighing in an amused sort of exasperation, Kurt hovered the mouse over the message for a minute of inner turmoil (how was he supposed to carry out with his plans if Blaine was being so annoyingly endearing?) before he inevitably gave in and opened it.
I told you I’d send you a message, and I hope you’ll trust me when I say that I believe this will become a daily occurrence. Or, at least bi-weekly, because there’s only so many ways I can say “I miss you” before you send me death threats for being so sappy and repetitive (I’m kidding, really. I think I’m going to get very creative in my ways of describing to you just how much I miss you).
But seriously, Kurt-- it’s just so weird. You’ve only been gone for two weeks, and it’s crazy how much I just… miss you. Even getting harsh texts from you criticizing the outfit of the person in front of you in line for coffee has become a part of my daily routine, so that now, when I’m almost stripped entirely of contact from and to you, I feel so empty. Like something’s missing. I mean, obviously you’re missing, but you’re not. But you are.
I don’t know-- I can’t describe it. But I really hope you write back, because… well, I think I’ve made that point obvious by now.
Once he was finished reading, Kurt huffed in a mix of frustration with himself and an anger towards Blaine that he didn’t really want to feel.
“Am I not pathetic enough for you?!” He half-shouted at his laptop screen, his voice sounding much louder in the emptiness of his temporary home. “Just go and rub some more salt in my bleeding heart, would you?!”
Suddenly overcome with a rush of emotions and weariness, Kurt slammed his laptop shut and folded his arms on top of it, resting his head face-down into them. He snapped his eyes shut, trying to fight back the tears that were already brimming behind his closed eyelids. Stupid tears, childish tears. Kurt was never able to contain his emotions when he felt them so deeply, and that was something he hated about himself. Of course, that was one thing that Blaine claimed to love about him. He said it made an otherwise angelic being seem real.
Kurt choked out a sob and let the tears flow freely. He wasn’t crying a great deal, but it still had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to cry like this over a boy. And when he said ‘a boy’, he meant ‘Blaine’; he always meant Blaine, and he didn’t know whether to be joyous of that fact or just disgusted with himself and his inability to just move on already. And how on earth was he ever supposed to move on if Blaine kept sending him messages like that?
He knew it was nothing private and intimate, and was never meant to be taken that way-- if Blaine was open and affectionate towards everyone, he was even more so with Kurt. He’d even admitted that, beyond the sexual aspects of their relationships (Kurt had to take a moment to gracefully choke on air at that), Blaine had felt more comfortable in every way around Kurt than he had with any of his boyfriends. While at first Kurt had wished that it meant there was something more hidden inside Blaine that would one day come out when he least expected it, there never was anything more. Blaine had credited it all to how long he and Kurt had been friends and how much they had experienced together (but not together, Kurt had thought bitterly, envious of how Blaine could throw the word around without turning into a stuttering fool), and Kurt had no choice but to agree. That was exactly how he felt, after all, only his comfort had always been laced with a deep but unrequited affection.
A buzz to his left jerked him abruptly out of his thoughts, and he snapped up to find his phone vibrating on the table next to him. Blinking away the leftover tears to rid his vision of the blurriness, Kurt couldn’t help but smile and laugh weakly as he read the message:
Received at 8:18 AM
Goooood morning! :) Did you get my message?
Kurt took a split second to weigh his options for responding, but decided that he just didn’t have the energy to resist Blaine’s infectious enthusiasm right then, so he played along.
Sent at 8:21 AM
You’re an asshole. :P
The smiley was but to remain teasing and to be able to lash out and release his feelings in some way without hurting Blaine in the process. Even though he was more distraught then he’d been in an incredibly long time, he was quite certain that upsetting Blaine would only make him feel twice as bad. But Blaine was used to this sort of snarky banter from Kurt, so there would be no harm done.
And, sure enough…
Received at 8:22 AM
Sighing and deciding to leave it at that, Kurt mustered all the strength he had left in him and pushed himself up and out of his chair to get ready for the day ahead.
- - -
Over the next week, Blaine positively showered him with emails, texts, and yes, handwritten letters. On the fourteenth of December, Kurt received a card from Blaine, filled with actual white rose petals and listing the many ways in which he was missed. He could quite honestly say that it was the most touching letter he’d ever received, despite the cheeky message at the end. Or maybe that was just another part of it that made it so special.
Blaine had even sent him a napkin-- yes, napkin-- that he’d picked up at a café and had colored Christmas trees all over in green and purple crayon. Because apparently, that was something that Kurt just had to see.
He’d placed it carefully on his nightstand, along with the rose petals.
The emails were more frequent, sent daily and more descriptive of what Blaine was up to in his life. Kurt hate them and loved them, because while a part inside of him told him to just delete them upon first sight, a stronger part that wanted to know anything and everything about Blaine’s whereabouts always overruled. Kurt wouldn’t email back, nor answer Blaine’s calls, determined to at least carry out some of his plan with whatever dignity he had left-- a fact that was a constant annoyance to Blaine. He didn’t know about Kurt’s plan, of course; merely that Kurt had, for some reason unknown to him, wanted to communicate via letters and only letters. Kurt had tried to back up his idea by spouting the first words that popped into his head, and went on and on about the lost magic of handwritten letters, and how he simply refused to communicate via email until he was back in New York.
Blaine said he was being intentionally difficult. Kurt called him out on “beating nails into the coffin of romance”.
So, no-- Kurt wouldn’t email Blaine back, even though he’d written Blaine one more letter since the last. He did, however, indulge himself in many, many texts. Just as he had with the first email, Blaine had continued to text Kurt after every message he’d send, and Kurt would reply in kind. It didn’t take long for Kurt to fall back into his old habits, however, and soon he was texting Blaine everything from what he had for breakfast that morning to his latest assignment in his internship (more like his first assignment, seeing as before then, he had only been allowed to bring coffee and file paperwork). It was natural, and it felt comforting to someone who was alone in a new city, with no other comfort to be had. And soon, that comfort of familiarity pushed aside any red flags that flashed up in his mind, so that Kurt’s great plan was nearly forgotten entirely.
And then on the sixteenth of December, it was suddenly dropped back into his lap with an unpleasant thump.
I know-- not really the customary, cheerful greeting. I just feel a bit blah today. Remember how we talked about ‘blah’ days, and how you don’t really know why you feel that way, but you just do? Yeah. It’s one of those days.
Even though we’ve been talking more than we used to at the start, I’ve been missing you more lately. Nick says it’s really starting to get pathetic, and that I should just “get myself another boyfriend already”, but I don’t really know if I want to. I know it’s been over four months since John and I split, and maybe I’m ready, but I just don’t think a boyfriend is going to solve this ‘blah’, I guess. I mean, I feel like something’s missing, but I know the boyfriend emptiness, and this isn’t it.
What do you think? I could really use your advice right now. Or even just a “hello”. Something.
Still missing you,
Kurt stepped away from his laptop without even closing the message, and drifted aimlessly over to the sofa, sinking into it like the heavy weight he just felt drop into the pit of his stomach. All at once, every reason for his long-abandoned plan came crashing back down on him, and Kurt felt like curling up into a ball and not moving for days.
How could he have not seen this coming? It’d happened countless times before-- Kurt allowed himself to sink into the comfort of Blaine’s words, smile, and touch, and let all of his guards down only to be unpleasantly surprised with subjects of this nature. Boy troubles. Boy gushing. Lots of boys-- pretty much all boys, except Kurt. And every time, Kurt had his heart broken repeatedly before he had to hastily shove the shattered pieces back together in order to be there for his best friend. But he had only himself to blame, really-- Kurt knew he wasn’t a four-point-oh average, but it didn’t take a genius to spot a pattern. Five year-olds were taught to recognize it, after all. He had been stupid not to see the signs every time.
And now he was stupid again, and breaking his own heart once more.
He just didn’t know how much more he could take.
His phone buzzed underneath him from inside his pocket, and Kurt almost dreaded seeing the inevitably cheerful message that it now contained. Somehow, he pulled it out anyway, and held the screen out in front of him.
Received at 3:46 PM
Hey. :) How are you?
There was no mention of the email, but by now there really wasn’t a need. A random text from Blaine was the unofficial announcement of one more unread message in his inbox. Every other day, it had sent a smile spreading across his face and his fingers couldn’t type a reply fast enough. Today, they felt stiff as lead moving across the keypad.
Sent at 3:53 PM
Busy right now.
The reply was almost immediate.
Received at 3:54 PM
Take your time. :)
Kurt hardly had the energy to feel ashamed of his actions as he pushed aside his phone and curled further into the sofa, trying his hardest not to think of the message still open and displayed across his laptop screen.
- - -
It had been one week since that email.
Kurt had even stopped texting Blaine, beyond the occasional assurance that yes, he was fine; and yes, he really was just busy. And that was only half a lie, because while Kurt was most definitely not fine (but coping), he most certainly was busy. It turns out that even an insignificant intern had tons of work to do as the holidays grew nearer, and as today (the twenty-third of December) was his last day in for work, he was in an extra-frenzied state. So much so that he thought he would even be able to push all thoughts of Blaine to the back of his mind, at least until the end of the day. And he honestly thought he would have been mildly successful, if it weren’t for the constant reminders of Blaine in the form of multiple texts from him throughout the day.
Received at 9:37 AM
Received at 10:01 AM
I really miss you.
Received at 10:09 AM
Will you please talk to me?
Sent at 10:12 AM
I’m really busy, Blaine.
Received at 10:14 AM
Sorry-- right. I’m sorry.
It sent horrible pangs of guilt shooting through him every time Blaine apologized, because even through something as unreadable as plain text, Kurt could tell that he genuinely meant it. And it wasn’t his fault-- not intentionally, at least. As far as Kurt could tell, Blaine had absolutely no idea about the effect he was currently placing upon Kurt, and he never really had much of an idea in the years prior. But despite Blaine’s obliviousness to it all, Kurt certainly couldn’t tell him what was wrong, and that was strange territory. Throughout their entire relationship, they were always, always honest with each other, no matter what, and that was a huge part of why Kurt just knew they would make great boyfriends together. Nothing was hidden, and there was never a communication issue; Kurt couldn’t even count on his fingers the number of times they’d scoffed at others’ overblown communication and honesty issues, because all of the solutions were just so obvious and easy to them.
If Kurt told Blaine everything that was going on inside his head and just laid it all bare, he wasn’t sure that their friendship would ever be the same again. That was the major reason why Kurt had never told Blaine that his feelings not only lived on after that first Valentine’s, but positively thrived: everything would change. Blaine would treat him differently-- touches would be gentler and more hesitant, with an underlying layer of ‘is this okay?’ He would look over and glance up knowingly, guiltily, when he thought Kurt wasn’t looking. There would be whispers between their friends at parties and gatherings, and either they’d think Kurt and Blaine couldn’t hear them, or they wouldn’t care.
Everything would change. And Kurt and Blaine wouldn’t be Kurt and Blaine anymore. There would be Kurt and his friend, Blaine. Blaine and his friend, Kurt. Nothing would be the same, and even if Kurt was somehow broken, defective, and couldn’t move past his feelings for Blaine, he’d rather have that tiniest bit of suffering internally and still have his friendship with Blaine intact than confess everything and lose everything all at once.
Received at 12:33 PM
Where will you be tomorrow?
Kurt looked up at his phone again, just as he’d packed up and was ready to head to Lima for his days of holiday leave. He bit his lip, unsure of how to answer. Where would Blaine be staying for Christmas-- New York, or Ohio? Was he going to stay with his family, or maybe at a friend’s house? Or-- Kurt hoped against it-- would he be spending the holidays alone? And, most important to the present moment, how was Kurt going to answer?
Taking a deep breath, he supposed that he could always go with the truth.
Sent at 12:37 PM
Lima, until the 26th. Leaving now. Will you be with your parents?
Received at 12:39 PM
Yes. I’ve been here since yesterday, actually.
Kurt took another deep breath as he waited for the reply, but, as usual, he didn’t have to wait very long. It seemed as if Blaine was almost waiting by his phone for Kurt’s texts lately, which (if it was still possible at this point) made Kurt feel even more guilty. Just earlier that day, Kurt had received another napkin in the mail, but this one was much simpler than the first: it just read, in plain black sharpie, “I miss you, Kurt. :’( -- Blaine”.
If that hadn’t been enough of a punch to the gut, he’d opened up his inbox to find yet another email-- one of many since the email.
I know you’re busy, and I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I can’t imagine how hectic it must be in the fashion industry at this time of year. I just need to share my thoughts with you again, if that’s alright.
I think missing you has reached its peak. I seriously can’t stop thinking about you, Kurt, and it’s driving me insane because I want you near me, and you’re not. I want to talk to you, but you never have time. I want to hold you, but you’re not there. I know it’s not your fault, but I just--
I need you.
He had to stop this.
His phone alerted him back to the present once again, but it didn’t simply vibrate this time. It was playing the chorus of Teenage Dream, and Blaine’s face was smiling up at him from the screen. Kurt blinked stupidly at it for a moment before he scrambled to pick it up, trying to calm his breathing down as much as possible before he answered.
How could one, spoken syllable be enough to nearly release the floodgates again?
“Yes?” Kurt tried to clear the thickness of emotion out of his voice as he spoke up again, but he wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded. Probably not, judging by the soothing and gentle tone that Blaine used next.
“Can-- Can I come see you tomorrow night? We always watch It’s a Wonderful Life at midnight, and… it just won’t feel right without you.”
Kurt exhaled shakily, a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “Of course you can.” There was always the chance that he was imagining things, with a mind like his-- but Kurt could have sworn that any tension on either end seemed to disappear.
- - -
The night of Christmas Eve had come and was nearly gone, and there was still no sign of Blaine.
They hadn’t talked at all since the day before, and it was the first time that Kurt honestly didn’t feel the need to and also didn’t feel guilty about it. Maybe it was a sign that things were finally starting to get back to normal between them, before Kurt had messed everything up. Yes, back to normal-- Kurt had since acknowledged that shutting Blaine out of his life was no longer an option, even if it was only temporary. Clearly, it was hurting them both, and it wasn’t doing either of them any good. Kurt would just have to try to find other ways to get over his feelings for Blaine. That was honestly not even close to the front of his mind that night, though. All Kurt wanted right then was to cuddle up with his best friend while sharing a mug of hot chocolate and watching Jimmy Stewart make the classic offer of lassoing the moon.
The only problem was that it was already a quarter past eleven, and Blaine still hadn’t shown up.
Kurt was just beginning to enter complete panic mode when there was a knock at the door, and all of his worry (well, most of it, anyway) drained out of him so fast that he felt like he was weightless as he rushed to answer the door. The rest of the family was either asleep or well on their way to becoming so, so Kurt hurried to open it before Blaine (or who he hoped was Blaine) could knock again.
Thankfully, the person on the other side of the door was Blaine, and Kurt felt a tired, relieved smile quickly spread across his face. It was Blaine-- same old bowties, same old Brooks Brothers sweaters. One thing that wasn’t the same, though, was Blaine’s smile; it was hesitant and small, and Kurt felt his own instantly falter at the sight.
But before he could finish, Blaine held out his hand to stop him, and then used that same hand to point above them. He looked a little sheepish, and more than a little nervous, and so Kurt gave in to his curiosity and looked up just as Blaine did. And he saw, attached to the top of the door frame--
“…Mistletoe?” He asked, now completely confused. “But how did it--?”
“I put it up there,” Blaine confessed, interrupting him with the explanation and speaking quickly. “Just now, before I knocked.”
Sure enough, there was a strip of scotch tape holding it up. “Oh,” Kurt replied simply, blinking up at the small plant suspended above them, not sure what else to say. A moment passed where neither of them said anything at all, until Kurt finally broke it with a simple, “Why?”
The question seemed to startle Blaine out of a trance of some sort, and he appeared to have gained a tiny bit of his old confidence back. When he spoke again, however, it was still hesitant and fumbling, despite his seemingly calm demeanor. Kurt knew then that he’d better pay attention, because this was a side of Blaine Anderson that rarely made an appearance, and whenever it did, it was almost always prompted by something important.
“Because, I-- well,” Blaine started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “You know what people do under mistletoe, right?” Kurt just blinked at him, and Blaine seemed to have gotten his answer. “Well… yes. I-- we are supposed to kiss under it.”
Kurt still felt like he was staring at a puzzle that was missing just one piece before it all finally came together. “But… Do you want to kiss me?” He asked, and then Blaine did the strangest thing of all. He blushed.
“I… yes,” Blaine admitted, averting his eyes, and Kurt swore his heart skipped a beat in that one moment. “Yes, I do.”
“But what?” Blaine pressed on, almost impatiently, as if there was something more important that they should be doing than talking about this.
Kurt’s brow furrowed deeply as he tried to put all the pieces together. It just didn’t fit with everything he’d come to know over the past five years. “But why?” He asked, needing an answer.
“I-- because,” Blaine almost huffed out, seeming to lose more and more steam every second Kurt remained still and confused. “Because when you were gone, you were all I could think about. And sometimes all I could do was think, and I thought about everything I liked about you. About how I liked your laugh, and the way you call me ‘baby’ when I’m scared or lonely, and when your smile lights all the way up to your eyes and makes them shine. And then I thought, I didn’t just like those things about you, I loved them. And then… maybe I didn’t just love those things, but what if I loved you? And I think I do. I know I do. And I--“
But now it was Kurt’s turn to do the silencing, and he rushed forward and pressed his lips against Blaine’s under the mistletoe. He felt like his entire body was vibrating with energy and happiness and love, and if he’d let Blaine stand there and talk anymore, he would have undoubtedly become immobile with some kind of shock from his words. So, he acted. He acted upon every urge that he’d been forced to repress since he was seventeen, and he poured his heart and soul into that action. And what made it truly incredible was that, as Blaine began to wrap his arms tight around his waist and give in to the kiss, he could feel Blaine giving his own heart and soul back in return. Kurt didn’t just love, but he was loved back by the one that he loved, and he was so happy and content that he felt like singing and sighing and crying all at once.
But above anything else, he felt like kissing some more, so he did that first.
When they finally broke apart, it was only to press their foreheads back together and share a laugh, shaky and warm with their shared happiness.
“How long have you…?” Blaine asked when he finally spoke up again, but Kurt just shrugged and grinned.
Blaine seemed to understand, though-- at least a little of it-- because he sighed then, and his eyes looked just the tiniest bit sad, despite how they had just been lit up and sparkling previously. “I’m an idiot,” he said, and Kurt grinned still.
“Just a little.”
Blaine nodded, and then-- “We… are standing out in the cold.”
Kurt blinked then, only just becoming aware of the fact. He frowned slightly, though his eyes still twinkled. “That, we are,” he agreed, then, “We should fix that.”
There was a moment-- a pause. For the first time since the earliest months of their relationship, things were going to change. It wasn’t that change was bad, but it was new; it was different, and both of them were a little unsure of how they would go forward from this point. But then they both knew: it wasn’t going to be different-- not greatly so, at least. Things would be like they had always been, just… more. They were still Kurt and Blaine. And they always would be, come what may.
And so it was with a tentative but assuring smile that Kurt led the way into the house, shutting the door on the mistletoe behind them just as the lightest of snowflakes began to fall from the night sky.
The fire is slowly dying
And, my dear, we’re still goodbying
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!