Chapter 4
Kurt and Blaine had never kept secrets from each other. They were both brutally honest by nature and that had been the foundation of their relationship from day one. Never intentionally had Blaine kept something from Kurt, not unless he kept it from himself. And also, when you live together and practically on top of each other (by choice or otherwise) like they had the first years, it was impossible to have secrets.
Some things change. But Blaine never thought this would be one of those things.
So that day when he got home he had every intention to tell Kurt about this madness and take it from there. Bad news was never fun to give but they had gone through setbacks before. Surely this couldn't be that different.
But this was a Wednesday and that meant that by the time Blaine stepped in through the door Kurt had already had one performance and was scheduled for another one at eight so he was napping on the couch.
Blaine stopped by the coffee table for a moment to watch Kurt sleep. It was one of those things that Blaine never would tire of examining. He looked relaxed yet concentrated with his mouth closed and eyelids smooth. Blaine straightened out the quilt over Kurt's legs and Kurt stirred.
“Blaine?” Kurt said without opening his eyes.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you,” Blaine said and squeezed his ankle apologetically. Kurt's leg twitched.
“Ah!” he shouted. “You know I'm ticklish.”
“Sorry,” Blaine said again but watched the little line beside Kurt's mouth become more prominent. His eyes were still closed.
“You better –” Kurt's warning was disrupted by his shriek as Blaine attacked his calf, poking hard. “Stop, stop!”
Kurt scrambled up in a sitting position and tried to pull his legs out of Blaine's reach. But he was laughing so Blaine stepped to the back of the sofa and grabbed the horrifying spot right above Kurt's knees, squeezing up his thighs. Kurt continued to protest between his laughter and withered underneath Blaine's hands. He finally got hold of Blaine's wrists to fight him off and Blaine let him. Kurt tried to give him the glare of Death but its effect was ruined by his smile.
“Now what kind of awakening was that?” Kurt said and let go of Blaine's arms and relaxed against the armrest. Blaine was smiling and hung over the back of the sofa, arms crossed over his chest for support.
“Technically you were already awake,” Blaine said and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth, his nose bumping into Kurt's cheek.
Kurt smiled up at him when he drew back and Blaine waited one second too long to open his mouth to say 'I need to talk to you about something'.
“I booked a ticked for you to the show on Friday,” Kurt said and Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That's fine right? You said you wanted to come see it this week and I figured Friday is the kind of day when one might fancy a trip to the theatre!”
“Yes, Friday's great,” Blaine said and Kurt nodded before standing up and stretching his arms out.
“It's like five thirty, right?” he asked Blaine who confirmed and watched as Kurt headed to the bathroom, scratching his shoulder.
Blaine remained by the couch as Kurt splashed water in his face and hummed while he chose a moisturizer. Blaine looked down at his hands that were fidgeting with edge of a cushion.
“Kurt?” he said and noted that his heart was pumping a little heavier.
“Yes, Blaine?” Kurt said, mocking and sweet. He turned back into the living room and was rubbing in the spots of lotion on his face. There was something about Kurt's presence right there, his vibrant Kurtness even though he was just standing there, looking at Blaine slightly amused with his fingertips massaging his skin in upwards circles.
Blaine swallowed and decided just to let the words roll from his tongue.
“Do you want some coffee?” was what came out, and Blaine was surprised, because that was not what he had planned to say at all.
“Of course I do,” Kurt said and widened his eyes as if Blaine was crazy for even asking. He smiled a second later and rubbed his hands together, smearing the remains of the lotion in a swift manner.
Blaine stood still a little too long, looking down a little too low and holding onto the cushion a little too hard. It wasn't a conscious decision but he was waiting for Kurt to ask what was wrong, waiting for permission to ruin this moment.
But Kurt had turned around again, switching off the light in the bathroom and Blaine snapped out of his frozen state and went to make coffee.

*

Telling Kurt things had never been a problem, because he knew he would be heard and taken seriously, no matter how small or big the problem might be. But Kurt also had the ability to sense when something was wrong and pull the answer out of Blaine without much effort. Because Blaine never wanted to keep anything from him, but sometimes it was necessary to get a piercing look and a “no, you're not fine, you look like someone burnt your Dalton blazer and smudged the ashes over the cr�me colored walls as a constant reminder of your lost youth. Now tell me what's really going on.”
A single look would have qualified really.
Of course Blaine can't blame Kurt for not asking him if perhaps, possibly he got fired today. Blaine knows that it's his responsibility, and his responsibility alone, to tell his partner things like this. Of course it is, and it's kind of vital information which should be passed along in form of a rant about idiot bosses and concern about the school system. They would then proceed to discuss his options while gritting their teeth at the world's lack of intelligence and by the end it would feel a little better, because at least Blaine had Kurt to share the pain with.
But Kurt's ignorance was a reminder of that none of that might actually happen. These days, things could go either way.
So Blaine desperately reasoned with himself, made excuses like you do when you know you're doing the wrong thing but convince yourself that it's right.
Blaine blamed it on the stupidity of the situation – so absurd that it was starting to sound untrue.
He promised that he would look more into it, talk to someone who knows about these things, before jumping to any conclusions and get fired up (although it was a bit late for that). It might not actually be true.
He claimed that he didn't want Kurt to worry, and while that was true what he actually feared was what would come out of that worry. Wouldn't this just be another thing that separated them – the Broadway star and the unemployed teacher. It was a lousy thing to think and Blaine was not the kind of man who put value in status and wealth, but it was different when it came to yourself and etched FAILURE into your mind.
Blaine had never been afraid to show himself “weak” in front of Kurt. It was part of the honesty package and in the of the day their vulnerability had always made them stronger. But that was before Kurt refused to talk about anything more serious than the phone bill. Everything personal and emotional and real was tucked away and frankly, it freaked Blaine out.
Losing his job and passion and income were all those things and if you drew this to the extreme, the nightmare scenario Blaine pictured in the back of his mind was that Kurt's eyes would go blanker and blanker until they saw nothing but the failure that Blaine felt he had become.
And then he would leave.

*

Thursday and Friday followed, and it was two of the most uncomfortable days of Blaine's life. He felt like a liar and was almost grateful that Kurt had left early when he got home on the Thursday. Yet, the idea that the news would ruin them and if he could fix it it wouldn't, had become truth. Almost a mantra.
But he did tell Fiona. It was a bit of a comfort to see her jaw drop and curse Urley in all the ways that Blaine had and then some. She even suggested a strike but Blaine laughed it off – he did not want any attention around this.
Blaine had been a bit hesitant about telling her, mainly because he was afraid that she would find out that he hadn't told Kurt and what she'd make of that. But since they were colleagues he'd figured that there really was no way around it. And it was nice to get it off his chest.
She didn't ask about Kurt, although she squinted and pouted thoughtfully when he had tried to answer what he was going to do next but was at a complete loss for a moment. Fiona probably noted that usually Blaine would have at least mentioned something about Kurt or his reaction or how this would effect them by now. Instead he muttered that he guessed he would teach from home again.
Fiona has steered clear of the subject of Kurt ever since the abrupt ending of their dinner a couple of weeks ago. She had been strangely tactful and Blaine hadn't even caught her biting her lip to refrain from saying something. Even if Blaine appreciated the fact that she didn't jump at the chance to criticize his relationship, it was a bit unsettling because where she'd usually chime in with a sarcastic remark, she just remained quiet. Blaine frowned at the thought. It seemed like everyone were backing off. Maybe he was too.
He looked up the laws revolving firing of teachers and they basically said that as long as they had a valid reason, they could let you go at any time. He called up a friend that was a lawyer and he promised to look into it but also told him not to get his hopes up – a man in Urley's position was not someone that you wanted to fight if he decided to get rid of you.
So yes, Blaine had had a bad couple of days, but he was looking forward a night on Broadway.
Kurt had left him the ticket on the kitchen table, along with a note that read:
“Picked up the ticket for you so you'll have more time to buy me flowers. I'll meet you at the stage door afterwards. Love you. Kurt”
Blaine pocketed the ticket and the corners of his mouth twitched a little. Tonight he would try to put his troubles aside and just enjoy watching Kurt in his right element.

*

Blaine sat in the theatre and observed the surroundings. It was quite a small venue but the mood was nevertheless enthusiastic and it was a proud moment, looking around at all those people and knowing that Kurt would captivate them all.
It was different going to the theatre alone. Kurt had asked if he wanted to bring anyone but Blaine hadn't. He needed this moment to think and feel without disturbance. Just be able to disappear into another world for a while, in a crowd where no one knew him.
Blaine looked at the couples hoovering over the Playbill, the woman who had ripped his ticket and now was telling people in the second row that they had to put away their cameras, the giant group of loud british tourists and the all kinds of people that were squinting at their tickets. When you're alone in that kind of public place you do feel a bit alienated. Not necessarily in a bad way, but you take the time to think about the way people act around each other and ponder upon where they came from and who they are.
There were plenty of pairs there, Blaine noted. They all looked happy. Some more excited then others. Maybe they had just started dating and found and easygoing musical the right thing to bond over. Maybe it was just an excuse to spend more time together.
Blaine's eyes lingered on the couple two rows in front of him. They looked familiar. He couldn't hear what they were saying and he only saw the back of their heads and half profiles. Blaine frowned and looked closer. Their shoulder were touching and they were obviously very comfortable with each other, exchanging few words but smiling knowingly. The woman leaned a bit closer and whispered something in the man's ear, her eyes expressive and eyebrows dancing. The man threw his head back and laughed warmly and she bowed her head and smirked. Blaine smiled and looked to both his sides before remembering that Kurt wasn't with him. Then he realized that he actually didn't recognize those two people at all, it was just the way they acted as a couple that had reminded him of him and Kurt.
Blaine looked up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling nosey when the thought “I wonder what kind of problems they have” came to him. It was hard to imagine that they would have any problems since they looked like a match made in heaven. Blaine didn't know whether to feel warm or cynical at the memory of the countless people that had told that to him and Kurt over the years.
He sighed and tried to go for warm and fuzzy but only got to longing. He shifted in his seat and stared at the curtain, listening to the buzz and feeling like the only thinking person in the room.
Soon enough the lights dimmed and voices were reduced to whispers. Blaine sat up a bit straighter and felt his heart pound a little harder, glancing around at the turning heads the seconds before Kurt's unmistakable voice filled the theatre. Clear and high and beautiful.
The curtain went up slowly, in the same pace as the puttering music, reveling the backside of Kurt's shining boots, his legs that disappeared under a thigh-long knitted cardigan and finally his head that was swaying from side to side.
He started walking towards the back of the stage, singing about how he could tell a story that would last them a lifetime, about girls gone missing and strange things like that. The music abruptly stopped when he raised a hand and turned his head. His eyes roamed over the audience, and he turned around slowly, filling the silence with his immense presence. He walked to the front, heels clicking. He snapped his fingers three times, smirking and raising an eyebrow. Where the fourth snap would have been the music started again with a bang and he took spun around, landing on the beat and refused to share the story.
Blaine let out a breath that he didn't know that he'd been holding as the number escalated and the seven membered cast joined Kurt one by one, trying to convince him to tell their stories. They were supposed to be like memories, ghosts if you will, and Kurt played the tortured soul of Elliot Pierce. It was a decent musical and Blaine had seen it before but this time he was really taken aback.
Watching Kurt on stage had always been a pleasure, and sometimes an emotional roller coaster. The first time that Blaine had seen him perform, when auditioning for a solo at sectionals with Don't cry for me Argentina, he had not only been struck by Kurt's natural talent and charisma but also the soul and sincerity that he put into his performance. He had been too outstanding to get the solo, and Blaine had had to tell him not to try so hard. But Kurt was a true star, and he deserved to shine just as bright as he wanted to.
Performance was perhaps not the word for it – it was such a natural environment for him. Kurt breathed expression. Blaine had noticed that the first time he laid eyes on him on that staircase, trying to blend in but failing miserably with his searching eyes and then, slight bewilderment and smiles that brightened up the entire room. Hearing him sing was just another step on the path of realization of that what Blaine was feeling was nothing short of love.
Sitting in that audience and seeing and hearing Kurt just as real and splendid as ever, brought back the same feeling of revelation. Of course, it wasn't really an eureka kind of moment since Blaine was very much aware of the fact that he was in love. But what he realized was that what struck him was the same wave of emotions that rolled over him and they had nothing to do with discovering anything – it was just the sensation of falling in love that was so strong that it couldn't be ignored.
Kurt came to life on that stage, exuberant and vivid. Even though he was playing a character that was quite different from him, Blaine saw Kurt in every move, all the different aspects of his person. Elliot Pierce was an angry character, bitter and sarcastic, and Blaine thought to himself that it was no wonder that Kurt was exhausted when he poured his entire being into making him come alive.
Seeing Kurt, or his character, give in to such strong emotions was strange. Because Blaine hadn't had access to that part of Kurt for some time now and yet there it was, but directed at something else entirely. Fiction.
And Blaine had all kinds of conflicting emotions. While he was incredibly proud and could barely take his eyes off Kurt, there was a too familiar nagging sensation creeping up from the darker parts of his mind. And that feeling only grew stronger during intermission. He felt lonely next to the enthusiastic groups of people by the bar and there was something puzzling with his reflection in the men's room. He washed his hands and went back to his seat, waiting for the bell to ring.
It gave him the unwanted time to think of where he was in life right now. Which was almost alone in an auditorium, hiding from the chatter of the happy people outside, praising his boyfriend – the upcoming star. And he sat there with his secret, waiting for Kurt's success and his own downfall. It hurt a little to know that what used to be his own dream, to be on stage and reach out to people, was so close through Kurt but further away from himself than ever. When had things gotten so complicated?

*

Blaine sat through the second half with a lump in his throat that he wished he had a different reason for. Yet he didn't really want it to end. Partly because it felt like a privilege to have an excuse to just sit and watch the most beautiful man he knew. Partly because he didn't know how he would be able to face Kurt afterwards without ruining the evening. He felt like such a mess.
During the bows Kurt got a standing ovation and Blaine forgot to feel bad for a moment when he saw the livid smile on Kurt's face. It was just a regular Friday night and Blaine guessed that they didn't get that kind of reception every day. A lady came out with Blaine's bouquet of roses and mimosa and Kurt squinted into the audience but didn't catch Blaine's eye.
The curtain fell and people started leaving, one experience richer than when they came. Blaine gathered his coat and scarf and made his way out on the street and looked into the stage door. The same woman that had taken care of the flowers sat behind the desk and buzzed the door open.
“Thank you,” Blaine said and she smiled.
“Mr Hummel will be down in a minute, he said he'd hurry,” she said and returned to writing on the computer.
“Okay, great.” Blaine nodded and had barely read through the first review that hung on the wall before the door into the theatre opened and Kurt stuck in his head.
“Hi,” he said and held up the door wider, waving Blaine in.
“Hi, you were amazing!” Blaine and followed him through the door, stealing a kiss in the cheek. Kurt smiled at him.
“You think so? The audience was spectacular today, so much energy,” Kurt said and walked down a staircase. He grabbed Blaine's hand. “And thank you for the flowers.”
It felt a little better then. This was just him coming to Kurt's job, and it had nothing to do with his own career. He was just there to show his support.
“Really, Kurt, you were incredible,” he said and wished he could pour all his affection into on look. “You are born to be on stage and every single person in that audience thought the same thing. Gosh, you've come so far and I am so proud of you,” Blaine said, and he really meant it. Kurt glanced over at him and looked a little surprised, but happy. They walked into another hallway.
“You've seen the show before,” he said and Blaine bowed his head down.
“Yes but this was...” Blaine shrugged and looked back at him. “It just hit me hard this time.” He tried to smile without showing any other emotion than lovingness. It wasn't very hard when Kurt looked at him like that.
“It strikes me too sometimes. That my dream has come true. It's all I've ever wanted.” Kurt stopped outside a door next to a rolling rack of costumes. “I wish you could be in the audience every night, gives me a real kick in the butt.”
Blaine laughed and Kurt winked at him and pushed the door to the dressing room open. They were greeted by a half naked Marcel who was very keen on hugging Blaine and declaring his love for tonight's audience.
“Fucking livid, man! This is why we keep going, that energy, wow, you just can't shake it!”
Blaine smiled and complimented his performance. From behind a screen another cast member, Tom, greeted him.
“Hey Blaine, enjoyed the show?” he said, peeking over the screen.
“Yeah, it was great. You were all really good. It's an excellent production,” Blaine said and beamed at them.
“I think this calls for some celebration,” Marcel said and scrubbed his face with a wet wipe. Blaine caught Kurt's quick disapproving frown in the mirror where he was removing remainders of eye liner with a q-tip. Clearly he did not approve of Marcel's skin routine.
“What do you say, Blaine, you wanna go out?” Kurt asked and looked at him through the mirror.
Honestly, that was about the last thing that Blaine wanted right now. Even though it might be nice to get a bit drunk and forget for a while, he knew better than that. And he did not feel very celebratory or socially enjoyable. This must have read on his face because Kurt declined the offer.
“As jolly as that would be, I think we'll call it a night. Saturday tomorrow,” he said and stood up to change into his own clothes. Marcel shrugged.
“Your loss, man.” He smirked at Blaine. “Tho, I'm sure you'll have your own celebration.”
“Marcel, you have a filthy, filthy mind,” Kurt said and shook his head sadly.
“I'm sure we'll think of something,” Blaine said. Marcel laughed and then started talking to Tom about the idiocy of that the director wouldn't let him cut his hair.
“Blaine, I think I'll just have a quick shower. I'll only be a minute,” Kurt said and picked up a towel from his chair. “Really. I won't wash my hair. Well, no conditioner anyway.”
Blaine nodded and sat down to wait, taking interest in Kurt's make up table. It was neatly organized with bottles of lotion, powder and makeup, brushes, hair products and a stack of fashion magazines. The mirror was bordered with photos of friends and family. Blaine looked closer. In the bottom right corner was a close up picture of him and Kurt from last summer when they'd visited a friend's country house. Blaine recalled that they'd had wonderful dinner outside and enjoyed the company and it's had been a beautiful, warm summer night. They'd been truly happy and it translated well through the photography. Blaine gave it one last longing glance before his eyes landed on something even more distant – their prom photo. Blaine let out a startled snicker and peeled it off the mirror.
Kurt had is arm around Blaine and his shoulder hitched up in an awkward angle. Blaine remembered that evening clearly, and sound of silence as Kurt was announced prom queen. He inspected the picture – they were smiling so grandly, even if it wasn't with the same comfort and relaxation as in the previous photo, it was genuine. That had been the night when they both could have fled but decided to rise above it all. Blaine had known that he loved him then, when he refused to run and said with such determinacy “They can't touch us, or what we have”, and that he would do whatever it took to support him and be strong in return. And then they had danced, because what else was there to do?
They looked so young. Almost ten years. Blaine shook his head and looked at the backside. My Prince 2011 was written in the corner and Blaine smiled at teenage Kurt's Disney inspired view on romance. Blaine looked up as Kurt emerged from the showers, toweling his hair and pulling on his pants in a rapid pace.
“What are you looking at?” he asked as he saw the photo in Blaine's hand. He walked over to Blaine as he buttoned his shirt and Blaine grinned up at him. “Oh that! I found it in box last time I visited dad and Carol. I quite fancy myself in a crown.”
He squeezed Blaine shoulder and went to stand under the vintage looking hair dryer. Blaine put the photo back on the mirror and looked around the room. The other tables were not half as well-equipped as Kurt's.
“Do you do your own make up?” Blaine asked as soon as Kurt was done drying.
“Well, not really. We have a make up artist. I just... like to be prepared. No one understands my complexion the way I do,” Kurt said, slipping into his shoes and coat and Blaine was quite sure Kurt meant that the make up artist was completely incompetent and did the basics himself. “Okay, I'm done!”
“That was fast,” Blaine said and stood up to say say good bye to Marcel and Tom, who were in a heated discussion about the age of an actor that Blaine had never heard of.
“Bye guys, see you tomorrow,” Kurt said and kissed them both on the cheek. “And I'll have go with Tom on this one, he's gotta be at least 35.”
“What! No man, that's what he wants you to think... Nice seeing you, Blaine,” he called out as Blaine waved at them and followed Kurt out the door.
“I'm just gonna say something to Beth. You can wait here if you want,” Kurt said and disappeared behind the opposite door before Blaine could answer.
Blaine sighed and inhaled the smell of theatre. So this was Kurt's second home. Blaine hadn't been in his dressing room before, he'd waited in a restaurant nearby. Seeing it like this made it all a little clearer. He could imagine Kurt running down the hallway between costume changes, or reading a magazine while getting his hair done, or warming up before the show, or lying on the couch, talking and laughing with his fellow cast members during intermission. Maybe sometimes he would look at the photos on the mirror and miss Blaine, but somehow that mental image didn't quite add up.
The door opened again and Kurt backed out, laughing and waving his good byes.
“Okay, now I'm done!” he turned around and said once the door closed, quirking his head in motion down the hallway.
“Great, let's go home,” Blaine said and Kurt nodded before they started walking.
“Beth says hi by the way. And the rest of the girls as well,” Kurt said as Blaine pulled the door to the reception desk open. “Good night, Mrs Watson!”
“Good night Mr Hummel,” she said, smiling to Blaine.
Kurt jumped out on the street and literally spun on his heel to turn in the right direction.
“You're in a good mood,” Blaine said, amused.
“Well,” Kurt started, linking their arms together, “we just had one of our best shows to date, you were there to see it and inspire me, and now I finally got something to put in that vase I bought last week!” He wiggled the bouquet in front of his nose.
“I inspire you?” Blaine asked and Kurt frowned at him.
“Of course you do,” he said. “Knowing you're in the audience makes me want to give even more. I actually care about your opinion. Not that I don't give a damn at all other performances, I always do my best, but you know. It's special.”
“I guess I know what you mean,” Blaine said thoughtfully. “I used to get so nervous whenever my family would come and watch me sing.”
“I remember, I was there. That one time.” Kurt said and smiled knowingly. This was not a subject that Blaine wanted to dig much further into.
“It's nice to see you smile and laugh,” he said instead, stopping for a red light.
“Don't I usually?” Kurt said and raised his eyebrows in mock insult with just a twinge of seriousness. “I think we can cross.”
“It's been a while since I've seen you this happy, that's all,” Blaine tried to explain while sounding as lighthearted as possible.
“Says Mr Sunshine himself,” Kurt said and rolled his eyes, stopping to hail a cab. Blaine had no intention of getting into an argument, this argument, in a taxi, so he didn't say anything as he climbed in after Kurt.
“I'm really glad that I got to see you tonight,” he said after a couple of blocks. “In your right element. You have no idea how incredible you are up there.”
Blaine heard the sorrow in his own voice and Kurt smiled at his words but it faded quickly when he looked at him.
“What's going on, Blaine?” he asked and there was his opening. Kurt recognized that something was wrong and wanted to know. But Blaine was put on the spot. He opened his mouth but no coherent sound came out.
“Nothing!” he outburst, attempting to smile but it only gave him away. Kurt's head fell back heavily on the headrest, exhaling loudly.
“Blaine, don't give me that. You've been acting weird for days now. You don't think I notice?” he said, suddenly tired. Blaine gave up.
“I don't know, do you? Because it's a bit hard to tell, since you don't talk to me anymore,” he snapped and could not be bothered by the driver's curious glance or that this was supposed to be a nice cheerful evening. Game over.
“What does that mean?! When exactly am I supposed to talk with you? Should I call you at work or better yet, from stage!” Kurt exclaimed and Blaine rolled his eyes.
“Don't be ridiculous, I –”
“Oh, Blaine, please do tell how I am supposed to be then,” Kurt interrupted and fixed Blaine with an ice cold look. “You're the one has been acting like a stranger these past days. And tonight, at the theatre, you hardly said a word. I just... I don't understand you right now.”
Blaine blinked. Was he really that obvious? But no, this was not fair. Kurt could not be the one accusing him of being introvert.
“Kurt, you've shut me out of weeks, walking away in the middle of discussions – don't deny it – but I can't bring it up because I hardly see you and have to pretend like everything's fine because otherwise it would just be work, fight with Kurt, spending evening alone and that's not what I want. But I don't want this either!”
“Oh, so that's what it all come down then, is it?” Kurt said. “You're too fucking noble to set me straight, and I am the workaholic diva.”
“That's not what I –”
“But it's what you meant! I think you're just –”
The cab stopped with a squeak and Kurt broke his eye contact with Blaine and Blaine looked out the window. They were outside their building. Kurt pulled out his wallet and had the door open before the driver had turned around. Blaine braced himself for half a second before getting out himself and slamming the car door shut.
“You think I'm just what?” Blaine asked, genuinely curious and genuinely terrified of the answer. Kurt was already on the sidewalk, two steps ahead of him. But he stopped and so did Blaine, standing between two parked cars.
“I think you're jealous, Blaine,” Kurt said, still with his back to him. Still with steel in his voice. He turned around when seconds passed and Blaine didn't answer, because Blaine couldn't answer. “It's the only reasonable explanation I can think of! You obviously doesn't like me going out after shows, you can barely say two words to my cast members, you compliment me like you're apologizing and you're obsessed with blaming our problems on my job.”
Blaine stared at him and had a hundred thoughts rushing through his head, all of which just resulting in heavy breathing. Kurt's voice softened.
“I know you, Blaine. I know what your dreams were and I've seen you give a lot up and I understand if that's haunting you. But this is my dream and I shouldn't have to fight so hard not to feel guilty for living it.”
Something burst in Blaine at that, but he couldn't deal with that right now. Instead he shouted.
“No, Kurt, you shouldn't feel guilty about making your dreams come true, you should feel guilty about thinking, for a second, that I would want to deny you that in any way! How can you even...” Blaine shook his head at his feet before trying again. Kurt watched him seriously. “Haven't I always supported you? I held your hand and watched all of those Judy Garland movies through all of those rejections and I encouraged you to keep going because I knew that someday you would get the recognition you deserve, because god, Kurt, you've always been a star to me! And no one was happier and prouder than me when all this finally happened. All I could ever wish for is for you to be happy. If you don't know that...”
Blaine trailed off and threw his hands up and then let them fall to his sides, as if there was nothing more to say. Kurt looked a little shocked at this outburst of aggravation and affection and for a moment they both probably forgot what this really was about.
“Of course I know that, Blaine,” Kurt said and sighed. “But that still doesn't explain why you're so upset.”
“I'm upset because I miss you!” Blaine said loudly, letting the words cling out and bounce between the buildings. At least it was half of the truth. “Not only when you're working, but when you're at home as well! And that's the worst part of it all. Sometimes I will look at you, and not really know who I see – you disappear and shut me out and walk away, even if it's just to the next room! As soon as we have an argument you go blank and I don't know what the fuck to make of it. It scares the hell out of me that maybe you're shutting me out of your life, one part at a time, and I feel completely powerless!”
Not once had he looked away from Kurt, but now Kurt broke away and glanced down. If Blaine hadn't been so upset he would have thought about how the light from the streetlamp hit Kurt's face and made the angles soft and sharp at once, a blend of hard light and shadows. But all he could think about was the sinking sensation in his gut as Kurt looked down the street before returning to Blaine. He was doing it again, and perhaps it wasn't even a conscious decision. Kurt stepped down from the sidewalk and stood five feet away from Blaine.
“I know that things haven't exactly been... running as smoothly between us as they usually do. Obviously. But all I know is that it wasn't like this before Octagon, and we both knew that it would mean that our time together would be more limited. Let me finish!” Blaine pressed his lips together and nodded. “Maybe I have been neglecting you, and in that case I'm sorry. I really am.” He searched for Blaine's eyes. “But you're the one has been turning away from all this. Maybe the reason to why you don't see me the same way is because you're not looking at me the same way. I haven't changed, Blaine.” Kurt smiled quickly and as he shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “And I would never try to push you away because I love you too damn much.”
He seemed sincere. And maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe it was just the stress of the new routines and some miscommunications that had caused all this. Maybe it wasn't as real or troublesome as Blaine had made it out to be. Right then and there, Blaine would gladly have believed that. They would have settled at that and gone upstair and Blaine would have woken up in the morning with an unfailing determination to prove Kurt right. But Blaine was tired of being na�ve.
“You're doing it again,” he said quietly, because it wasn't easy to go down that road when he could refuse.
“What?”
“You're refusing to see the real problem, you're promising that things will get better but you don't say how and it's all excuses to walk away!” Blaine saw irritation creeping back over Kurt's body and he felt strangely empowered.
“I don't know what the real problem is, Blaine, so all I can do is assure you that I'm still here, although you don't seem to believe me. And yes, I would very much like to walk away because it's freezing out here and I'm pretty sure someone is going to throw something at us from a balcony soon and I need to put these flowers in water.”
And with that Blaine was lost again. He rubbed his temple and snorted.
“Fine, let's go up.”

*

That night they both lay awake for hours. There were too many reasons to why Blaine couldn't sleep.
He thought about Kurt's words about him being jealous. As much as he would deny that, he couldn't deny the fact that Kurt had something that he didn't and while he didn't want to take that away from Kurt, he was sad that he couldn't have it too.
He thought about Kurt's reactions and unwillingness to understand. And he wondered what Kurt was thinking about, if there was something else holding him back from truly confronting him. But he couldn't bring himself to ask, even if it was ridiculous to lie in the dark and hearing the other person's breathing normally. But the darkness worked as a divider, separating them with a foot bodily and a mile emotionally.
Blaine's aching anxiety of perhaps not having a job at all was nothing compared to the awful feeling of guilt at not having told Kurt. Because Kurt had been right, Blaine had been acting weird but Blaine had put the blame elsewhere. When truth was, he was probably just as much to blame as Kurt, if not more. That's what he thought, and he felt awful.
So there they were, like two strangers sharing a bed, trying not to stir and give themselves away. Afraid of conflict and afraid of tomorrow. Blaine tried not to think of that they were becoming afraid of each other because that scared him more than anything else.

***