When Sea Levels Rise, Kurt/Blaine, NC-17
Jul. 17th, 2011 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rmTitle: When Sea Levels Rise
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers (if any): None.
Warnings (if any): None.
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary: Kurt starts to have something resembling a career.
Author's Note: I've tried to avoid putting song notes into the front of these, because most references seem obvious to me or aren't important if you don't know them. However, in this story the unnamed song Kurt sings in the piano bar is Tori Amos's "Pretty Good Year," and a song mentioned later, "My Simple Christmas Wish," probably needs the context of you hearing it. I assume you all can find "Rainbow High" on your own if you don't already know it.
This continues from:
Boston: Following Home | These Thousand Names for Gratitude | All the Honesty of Politics | Circles as the Dark Winds Down | The Distance Between Ohio and Boston | All the Pretty Little Horses | Languages You Don't Even Know | Fauna and Flora | Where Water Doesn't Speak | Under Glass We Are Expected to Blossom | You Were Someone Else Before We Came Here
D.C.: Strategies and Tactics | The Many Shades of Sugar
They're at brunch – Kurt and Seanna, Henry and George – on one of those strange too warm days of early spring. Blaine's with them too, because no one who's actually in his program will really talk to him anymore. After all the drama, even the cabal members' partners would rather not be seen with him in public. Henry's wife is almost an exception, and Blaine has found a certain comfort in being such an overtly adopted stray.
“All right, time for me to go,” Kurt says, pushing back his chair and grabbing his dance bag from under the table.
He leans down to give Blaine a kiss.
“Be good,” he says softly, and Blaine nods as if pleased to be the subject of that vague control. “Don't wear anything I wouldn't wear,” he calls to the rest of them with a little wave as he goes.
“Anderson, while I love Lizzy, there's no universe in which I'd wear anything he wears.”
Blaine smiles and take a sip of his free watery brunch mimosa. “I can't believe he lets you call him that.”
Henry shrugs.
“How do you all feel about sangria?” George asks.
“We feel yes,” Seanna says, and he flags down their waiter as she turns to Blaine. “So how's he doing?”
“What do you mean? You see him all the time.”
She shrugs. “He won't talk to me about his other dance classes. I think he thinks it's like cheating or something.”
“Oh,” Blaine says, slightly startled at the observation. “He might, actually.”
She smiles. “Does that means it's going well?”
“I think so, yes. I --” Blaine starts and then stops. “Never mind.”
“You were about to say something about sex,” Henry states.
Before Blaine can reply two pitchers of sangria appear in the center of the table. He intends to say something about that being excessive for only four people, but with George as the instigator it hardly seems worth the trouble.
“I'm glad,” she says as George reaches across the table, grabs the remains Blaine's mimosa and downs it in one long swallow.
“All right. Now that we've resolved that, red or white?” he asks.
*
“I cannot believe you're all still here,” Kurt says when he swings back into his seat beside Blaine three hours later.
“We've been drinking,” George says.
“Yes, I can see that,” Kurt notes at the three empty sangria pitchers on the table.
“How was class?” Blaine asks.
“Yes, Lizzy, tell us how class was,” Henry adds in a tone that makes Kurt arch an eyebrow.
“Watch it, or you might stop being my favorite,” Kurt says replies. “Good,” he adds turning to Blaine. “Actually, really, really good.”
Seanna smiles. “Did someone just discover he likes class?”
“Oh my god, can I have some of your nachos?” Kurt asks, ignoring her question and reaching across the table towards her plate.
*
“I think,” Henry says after another hour and another pitcher, “we're starting to reach the you don't have to go home but you can't stay here point.”
“What do you want to do?” Blaine asks Kurt.
“Can we go to the piano bar?” Kurt murmurs, but Blaine understands that the question is actually slightly different than the one Kurt asked. What Kurt means is Do you think we should? and Should I let our new friends see me sing? It's like coming out, Blaine thinks, but for possessing too much beauty.
“Yeah,” Blaine says as Kurt sits next to him close and quiet, “I think that's a great idea.”
*
They're there for an hour before Blaine finally pushes himself out of his chair.
“Okay if I go first?” he asks, knowing that no one, least of all Kurt, is going to protest.
“I warn you all, he's going to do something Top 40 and appalling,” Kurt says as soon as Blaine is out of earshot.
“But he's good, right?” George asks.
“He's fantastic, he's just --”
They all pause for a moment trying to take in what's happening as Blaine snickers to himself when the pianist starts playing.
“Is he seriously singing 'Papa Don't Preach?'” Henry asks.
“Define seriously,” Kurt says.
“Wow.”
*
“Kurt, you got something for us?” Blaine asks into the mic when he's done and everyone is laughing.
Kurt shakes his head. “Not yet.”
But the thin crowd – it's still early – led by the bartender and the cocktail waitress on duty, holler his name and cheer for him to go up to the mic anyway.
Kurt laughs, shakes his head again, and actually blushes, mouthing not yet again to Blaine.
“He'll be up later,” Blaine says to the room. “Sorry. I might have shaken him up a little bit with the pregnancy news.”
Kurt punches one shoulder and Seanna the other when he sits down.
“I cannot believe you,” Kurt hisses.
“Come on, you loved it,” Blaine says and kisses him.
“I love you, but that has never precluded murder.”
*
When Kurt does finally gets up to sing, he gives Blaine a little kiss first and murmurs something so softly his boyfriend doesn't even catch what it is.
But when the song starts, the song Kurt's been fighting with for weeks at their piano for no reason Blaine's been exactly sure of, he understands why. There's a gentleness to it and a rage in the middle, and because of the way New Directions always was, Kurt has always made a point to tell Blaine when a song that might seem like it's about him isn't.
By the second line, Seanna gives a little gasp and puts a hand over her mouth in a gesture that actually reminds Blaine of Kurt. He doesn't know if she recognizes the song, is startled at the lyric, or hasn't previously realized that Kurt sounds like this. George and Henry are mesmerized too; Blaine can tell, because Henry is drinking fast, and George is just frozen, his glass inches away from his lips.
Kurt has his eyes closed as he reaches into the lower part of his register for the song's odd bridge and Blaine can't help but flinch as Kurt sings it because there is so much anger there. But of course there is. That's why he sings, and why Blaine is killing himself in grad school instead.
“Sorry about that,” Kurt mumbles into the mic when the song is over and everyone applauds ferociously after an uncomfortable pause. He gives one of his funny little curtsies, and then adds more confidently. “I'll sing something sweet later. I promise.”
Seanna whips her head around to face Blaine. “They love him,” she says. She sounds oddly startled.
“Why is he even here?” Henry adds.
“Because Blaine's in grad school, and I'm learning to dance,” Kurt says lightly, sliding into his chair beside Blaine and taking his hand.
“I had no idea,” George says.
“Yes, well,” Kurt says not knowing what else to offer. “Me too.”
Blaine rubs his hand up and down Kurt's arm. “Are you happy with it?” he asks.
Kurt tilts his head from side to side, uncertain, but enjoying the attention. “It's closer.”
“If you can do that why the fuck are you slumming around with all of us?” Henry asks.
Kurt peers at him curiously, like he doesn't even understand the question. “Love.”
*
Later, despite the fact that it's 80 degrees out and George has just embarrassed them all with a thoroughly charismatic, yet oddly terrible rendition of “Ring of Fire,” Blaine convinces Kurt to sing “Baby, It's Cold Outside,” with him.
“You promised them sweet,” Blaine says as he tries to talk him into it.
“Yes, and the very charming date rape song you didn't even use to hook up with me when we were sixteen is a perfect choice,” Kurt says acerbically.
“But it really is,” Blaine says.
Kurt doesn't protest further, but when they get up beside the piano leans into the mic and says, “Just so we're clear, I was cajoled into this.” He doesn't even mean it to be funny, but it is, of course, in the way it suits the song.
At the end of it, they kiss, chaste and theatrical, grinning at each other instead of the audience for just a hair too long.
Yet before Blaine can lead him back to their table, the cocktail waitress -- Jody, if Blaine remembers correctly – links her arm with Kurt's and leads him away towards the bar.
“I need to borrow him,” she says, leaving Blaine looking slightly befuddled.
“Your boy's been kidnapped,” George says, when Blaine gets back to their table.
Blaine nods, unsure of how to respond to such a statement of the obvious.
“Let us know if we need to rescue him for you,” Henry says.
“Er, thanks,” Blaine says. “I can probably handle it.”
“He can probably handle it,” Seanna says.
“Yes, that too,” Blaine says sheepishly. Kurt's never been the one with a problem finding his way back home.
*
When Kurt bounces back to their table twenty minutes later, Blaine knows he has news, but can't figure out what it could be.
“Jody just got a tour,” he says.
“That's great!”
“The tour's six months.”
“Also great.”
“Which means this place is going to be down a cocktail waitress,” Kurt leads.
“And?” Blaine doesn't want to leap to conclusions, but he's definitely about to.
“And, if I want, she's going to recommend me as her replacement. It's not Broadway. It's not even New York. But it's a job, singing.”
“We are going to come here all the time,” George says very seriously.
*
Of course Kurt gets the job, and of course they do – the cabal and even some of Blaine's classmates hanging out at the bar a couple of nights a week. It makes Kurt glad. But it also makes him wonder if the only reason anyone can forgive him for the previous semester's social disaster (even if he does sing “My Simple Christmas Wish” every single shift) is because in a way, he's working for them now. That's what performing, and slinging drinks, is.
Blaine stays home more often than not. He doesn't want his presence to make the job seem less than it is, and he can also do without seeing just how much his boyfriend flirts for his tips. The exaggerated swing of his hips as he ferries drinks between his little three song sets is one thing, but the dropping himself into the laps of older men who clearly adore him in the middle of breathy songs normally sung by women is another.
Blaine marvels that Kurt is able to work a room in this way; it's something he never expected, and it's fine, but it's more fine, and better for Kurt's wallet, if Blaine's not there staring at the ring that still makes nearly no sense on Kurt's finger.
When he does go, it's usually just towards the bitter end of the night to give Kurt a lift home. They value that time in the car immensely; their schedules now complicated and not in sync enough that it's one of the few guaranteed moments of connection they have outside of bed. But Blaine, so grateful that D.C. is no longer wasting Kurt's time and talent, doesn't complain.
*
“I'm going to New York next week,” Kurt says in the second half of May when Blaine's just about to descend into papers and projects and examinations.
“For?” he asks, cursing himself for actually sounding nervous.
“There's an open call. For one of the agencies that casts most of the chorus replacements on Broadway and for a bunch of the tours. Rachel told me about it.”
Blaine puts down the pencil he was using to keep his place in the text he was skimming and turns to Kurt. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“We're here.”
“In D.C., yes,” Kurt says, puzzled.
Blaine stands up and grips Kurt's shoulders, stunned that he feels this terrified and envious of what Kurt has always intended to do. “Not what I meant,” he says softly.
Kurt decides not to ask for clarification and kisses him chastely instead before twirling away from him.
“So, it's Wednesday morning. I'm taking a 2am bus; Rachel's going to hold us a place in line, and I should be there with her by 8. I'll come back the other way as soon as we have our post-mortem lunch.”
“I hope you get it,” Blaine says, and means it, even though it would probably be disastrous for their equilibrium.
“I won't,” Kurt says airily. “But I do need to see how far I am from yes.”
Blaine smiles at him, so, so ridiculously proud. That Kurt can look any type of no in the eye with equanimity amazes him; the coy and timid boy he'd first met at Dalton was shattering from rejection.
*
Blaine takes a break from studying to drive Kurt to the bus station.
“You have your resumes? And your head shots? And --”
“And products, and a mirror so I can freshen up on the line, the snacks you packed me, and my return ticket. Yes, Blaine. Now stop fretting.”
“Okay,” he says sheepishly.
Kurt smiles at him softly and presses a hand to his cheek. “I'm sorry I won't be in bed tonight.”
“I'll survive,” Blaine says, and then reaches unceremoniously towards Kurt zipper.
“What are you doing?” Kurt hisses, head darting frantically around to look out at the thankfully empty parking lot.
“Making sure you can sleep on the bus,” Blaine says before taking Kurt's cock into his mouth. Kurt slams his open palm against the window as he tries to brace himself against the startling, absurd pleasure of it all.
After, when Blaine nuzzles against his thigh, Kurt cards his fingers through Blaine's curls and says, “I love you,” over and over again as quietly as he can, because Blaine seems to need to hear it. Kurt honestly hopes they never need to discuss why.
*
New York is beautiful early in the morning, and Kurt feels proud, like everyone must know exactly where he's going, as he strides down the street to the church basement where the auditions are. The line of non-union hopefuls like him wraps around the block, but Rachel's not too far back, lounging smugly in a folding chair.
Kurt laughs. “You came prepared.”
“I have sixteen bars of everything, the perfect headshot, and a folding chair. I can't lose,” she says. It lacks the grating certainty of their high school lives, but she's heard enough no by now Kurt knows. It doesn't make her confidence less lovely. In fact, in a way, this is the first time her confidence has seemed lovely at all.
After she interrogates him about what he's singing (“I haven't decided, yet,” he says, even though he knows it's going to be “Rainbow High”) and is catty about the the top-ten American Idol finalist from three years ago who's about 20 feet behind them online, Kurt tells her about Blaine's little send off.
“Do you know,” Rachel says, “you have never once dished to me about your sex life once in all the time we've known each other?”
“That's not why I'm telling you this.”
“No, I know,” she says, turning serious.
“I don't think he's ever really bothered to think about what will happen if I succeed.”
“He probably hasn't,” she says. “Most people don't.”
“He's always been sure, but....”
“You'll figure it out,” she says, her voice turning brittle. “You two always do.”
Kurt nods, not knowing what else to say. The truth is he's a little bit angry at Blaine.
*
They get inside the building just before noon, and Kurt finds himself singing Evita to a sole auditor in what looks like little more than a broom closet sometime around one.
“Interesting choice,” the man says when Kurt's done and then staples a little yellow card to the top corner of his resume and hands it back to him. “You're past the first round; take this up to the check-in table and they'll point you to the next line.”
Kurt is breathless and shaky in his thank-yous and half crashes into the room's door as he leaves.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he says, bouncing up and down when he finds Rachel on that next line.
“I should have warned you,” she says. “There was no way you weren't going to get past that first one,” she says. “I always do.”
“This is my first time,” Kurt hisses at her. “Don't make it small.”
She takes his hand as they wait, but says nothing else.
*
In the next room, there are three auditors behind a table, and Kurt has a moment of uncertainty about his song choice. Yesterday, he'd thought it was funny, but now it seems just smug and weird to him, and he's no one, with a resume that only lists his job, his degree, his dance classes, and, god help him, high school.
“You live in D.C.?” the man seated in the middle asks.
“My partner's finishing school there; we'll be moving to New York as soon as he's done,” Kurt says, fudging the two years Blaine has left.
“And you --”
“Took a bus up here at 2am, yes.”
“Committed,” she says.
“Always,” Kurt says, like it's slightly embarrassing.
“All right, what are you going to sing for us?” asks the man on the end.
When he gets a raised eyebrow in response, Kurt gives the auditor his most flirtatious smile, takes a breath, and sings.
After, he tries to stop himself from twisting his torso back and forth while he waits for their response, but he can't; he's giddy and singing that song has always felt good; it is one of the first that ever granted him the right to exist.
“You have an amazing voice,” says that man in the middle.
“Thank you,” Kurt says, suddenly shy, hoping this man is the most important of his auditors.
“But you're not ready for this; and you're going to be a hard fit for a lot of shows.”
Kurt takes a deep breath and nods. He knows this, or at least he knew this, but he can feel the tears in his eyes.
“But if I don't see you back here with more on this resume, soon, I think we're all going to be seriously disappointed.”
Kurt nods furiously. “Absolutely. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he says breathlessly before giving them a wide grin and running out of the room. This time he doesn't crash into the door.
*
Outside on the street in front of the church Rachel is waiting for him, and he picks her up and spins her around.
“Oh my god, DID YOU GET IT?” she squeals at him once he puts her down.
Kurt shakes his head. “No. No. But one day I'm going to. Oh my god,” he says still shaking. “How did you do?”
“They'll let me know,” she says tightly. “That means no.”
“Let's go get lunch?” he asks, mainly because he just needs to sit down.
When she nods, he picks up her folding chair and slings it over his shoulder, a courtesy learned from Blaine.
*
When Kurt gets home, Blaine opens the door for him before he can even finish fumbling with his keys. Kurt drops his bag on the floor and pulls Blaine into a tight hug.
“Was it good? Was it... what happened?” Blaine asks, the tension in him acutely obvious.
“I pretty much got the best no a person can get,” Kurt says, setting Blaine away from him.
“I am so proud of you,” his boyfriend says for what seems like the dozenth time in two days.
Kurt smiles. “I sang 'Rainbow High.'”
Blaine smiles. “I bet you sold the hell out of it.”
“I did.”
“Arms and all,” Blaine adds, trying to stifle a laugh.
And Kurt smiles indulgently, remembering Blaine's reaction to his audition for the Warblers. “Arms and all,” he says and takes Blaine's hand, kissing the center of his palm.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers (if any): None.
Warnings (if any): None.
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary: Kurt starts to have something resembling a career.
Author's Note: I've tried to avoid putting song notes into the front of these, because most references seem obvious to me or aren't important if you don't know them. However, in this story the unnamed song Kurt sings in the piano bar is Tori Amos's "Pretty Good Year," and a song mentioned later, "My Simple Christmas Wish," probably needs the context of you hearing it. I assume you all can find "Rainbow High" on your own if you don't already know it.
This continues from:
Boston: Following Home | These Thousand Names for Gratitude | All the Honesty of Politics | Circles as the Dark Winds Down | The Distance Between Ohio and Boston | All the Pretty Little Horses | Languages You Don't Even Know | Fauna and Flora | Where Water Doesn't Speak | Under Glass We Are Expected to Blossom | You Were Someone Else Before We Came Here
D.C.: Strategies and Tactics | The Many Shades of Sugar
They're at brunch – Kurt and Seanna, Henry and George – on one of those strange too warm days of early spring. Blaine's with them too, because no one who's actually in his program will really talk to him anymore. After all the drama, even the cabal members' partners would rather not be seen with him in public. Henry's wife is almost an exception, and Blaine has found a certain comfort in being such an overtly adopted stray.
“All right, time for me to go,” Kurt says, pushing back his chair and grabbing his dance bag from under the table.
He leans down to give Blaine a kiss.
“Be good,” he says softly, and Blaine nods as if pleased to be the subject of that vague control. “Don't wear anything I wouldn't wear,” he calls to the rest of them with a little wave as he goes.
“Anderson, while I love Lizzy, there's no universe in which I'd wear anything he wears.”
Blaine smiles and take a sip of his free watery brunch mimosa. “I can't believe he lets you call him that.”
Henry shrugs.
“How do you all feel about sangria?” George asks.
“We feel yes,” Seanna says, and he flags down their waiter as she turns to Blaine. “So how's he doing?”
“What do you mean? You see him all the time.”
She shrugs. “He won't talk to me about his other dance classes. I think he thinks it's like cheating or something.”
“Oh,” Blaine says, slightly startled at the observation. “He might, actually.”
She smiles. “Does that means it's going well?”
“I think so, yes. I --” Blaine starts and then stops. “Never mind.”
“You were about to say something about sex,” Henry states.
Before Blaine can reply two pitchers of sangria appear in the center of the table. He intends to say something about that being excessive for only four people, but with George as the instigator it hardly seems worth the trouble.
“I'm glad,” she says as George reaches across the table, grabs the remains Blaine's mimosa and downs it in one long swallow.
“All right. Now that we've resolved that, red or white?” he asks.
*
“I cannot believe you're all still here,” Kurt says when he swings back into his seat beside Blaine three hours later.
“We've been drinking,” George says.
“Yes, I can see that,” Kurt notes at the three empty sangria pitchers on the table.
“How was class?” Blaine asks.
“Yes, Lizzy, tell us how class was,” Henry adds in a tone that makes Kurt arch an eyebrow.
“Watch it, or you might stop being my favorite,” Kurt says replies. “Good,” he adds turning to Blaine. “Actually, really, really good.”
Seanna smiles. “Did someone just discover he likes class?”
“Oh my god, can I have some of your nachos?” Kurt asks, ignoring her question and reaching across the table towards her plate.
*
“I think,” Henry says after another hour and another pitcher, “we're starting to reach the you don't have to go home but you can't stay here point.”
“What do you want to do?” Blaine asks Kurt.
“Can we go to the piano bar?” Kurt murmurs, but Blaine understands that the question is actually slightly different than the one Kurt asked. What Kurt means is Do you think we should? and Should I let our new friends see me sing? It's like coming out, Blaine thinks, but for possessing too much beauty.
“Yeah,” Blaine says as Kurt sits next to him close and quiet, “I think that's a great idea.”
*
They're there for an hour before Blaine finally pushes himself out of his chair.
“Okay if I go first?” he asks, knowing that no one, least of all Kurt, is going to protest.
“I warn you all, he's going to do something Top 40 and appalling,” Kurt says as soon as Blaine is out of earshot.
“But he's good, right?” George asks.
“He's fantastic, he's just --”
They all pause for a moment trying to take in what's happening as Blaine snickers to himself when the pianist starts playing.
“Is he seriously singing 'Papa Don't Preach?'” Henry asks.
“Define seriously,” Kurt says.
“Wow.”
*
“Kurt, you got something for us?” Blaine asks into the mic when he's done and everyone is laughing.
Kurt shakes his head. “Not yet.”
But the thin crowd – it's still early – led by the bartender and the cocktail waitress on duty, holler his name and cheer for him to go up to the mic anyway.
Kurt laughs, shakes his head again, and actually blushes, mouthing not yet again to Blaine.
“He'll be up later,” Blaine says to the room. “Sorry. I might have shaken him up a little bit with the pregnancy news.”
Kurt punches one shoulder and Seanna the other when he sits down.
“I cannot believe you,” Kurt hisses.
“Come on, you loved it,” Blaine says and kisses him.
“I love you, but that has never precluded murder.”
*
When Kurt does finally gets up to sing, he gives Blaine a little kiss first and murmurs something so softly his boyfriend doesn't even catch what it is.
But when the song starts, the song Kurt's been fighting with for weeks at their piano for no reason Blaine's been exactly sure of, he understands why. There's a gentleness to it and a rage in the middle, and because of the way New Directions always was, Kurt has always made a point to tell Blaine when a song that might seem like it's about him isn't.
By the second line, Seanna gives a little gasp and puts a hand over her mouth in a gesture that actually reminds Blaine of Kurt. He doesn't know if she recognizes the song, is startled at the lyric, or hasn't previously realized that Kurt sounds like this. George and Henry are mesmerized too; Blaine can tell, because Henry is drinking fast, and George is just frozen, his glass inches away from his lips.
Kurt has his eyes closed as he reaches into the lower part of his register for the song's odd bridge and Blaine can't help but flinch as Kurt sings it because there is so much anger there. But of course there is. That's why he sings, and why Blaine is killing himself in grad school instead.
“Sorry about that,” Kurt mumbles into the mic when the song is over and everyone applauds ferociously after an uncomfortable pause. He gives one of his funny little curtsies, and then adds more confidently. “I'll sing something sweet later. I promise.”
Seanna whips her head around to face Blaine. “They love him,” she says. She sounds oddly startled.
“Why is he even here?” Henry adds.
“Because Blaine's in grad school, and I'm learning to dance,” Kurt says lightly, sliding into his chair beside Blaine and taking his hand.
“I had no idea,” George says.
“Yes, well,” Kurt says not knowing what else to offer. “Me too.”
Blaine rubs his hand up and down Kurt's arm. “Are you happy with it?” he asks.
Kurt tilts his head from side to side, uncertain, but enjoying the attention. “It's closer.”
“If you can do that why the fuck are you slumming around with all of us?” Henry asks.
Kurt peers at him curiously, like he doesn't even understand the question. “Love.”
*
Later, despite the fact that it's 80 degrees out and George has just embarrassed them all with a thoroughly charismatic, yet oddly terrible rendition of “Ring of Fire,” Blaine convinces Kurt to sing “Baby, It's Cold Outside,” with him.
“You promised them sweet,” Blaine says as he tries to talk him into it.
“Yes, and the very charming date rape song you didn't even use to hook up with me when we were sixteen is a perfect choice,” Kurt says acerbically.
“But it really is,” Blaine says.
Kurt doesn't protest further, but when they get up beside the piano leans into the mic and says, “Just so we're clear, I was cajoled into this.” He doesn't even mean it to be funny, but it is, of course, in the way it suits the song.
At the end of it, they kiss, chaste and theatrical, grinning at each other instead of the audience for just a hair too long.
Yet before Blaine can lead him back to their table, the cocktail waitress -- Jody, if Blaine remembers correctly – links her arm with Kurt's and leads him away towards the bar.
“I need to borrow him,” she says, leaving Blaine looking slightly befuddled.
“Your boy's been kidnapped,” George says, when Blaine gets back to their table.
Blaine nods, unsure of how to respond to such a statement of the obvious.
“Let us know if we need to rescue him for you,” Henry says.
“Er, thanks,” Blaine says. “I can probably handle it.”
“He can probably handle it,” Seanna says.
“Yes, that too,” Blaine says sheepishly. Kurt's never been the one with a problem finding his way back home.
*
When Kurt bounces back to their table twenty minutes later, Blaine knows he has news, but can't figure out what it could be.
“Jody just got a tour,” he says.
“That's great!”
“The tour's six months.”
“Also great.”
“Which means this place is going to be down a cocktail waitress,” Kurt leads.
“And?” Blaine doesn't want to leap to conclusions, but he's definitely about to.
“And, if I want, she's going to recommend me as her replacement. It's not Broadway. It's not even New York. But it's a job, singing.”
“We are going to come here all the time,” George says very seriously.
*
Of course Kurt gets the job, and of course they do – the cabal and even some of Blaine's classmates hanging out at the bar a couple of nights a week. It makes Kurt glad. But it also makes him wonder if the only reason anyone can forgive him for the previous semester's social disaster (even if he does sing “My Simple Christmas Wish” every single shift) is because in a way, he's working for them now. That's what performing, and slinging drinks, is.
Blaine stays home more often than not. He doesn't want his presence to make the job seem less than it is, and he can also do without seeing just how much his boyfriend flirts for his tips. The exaggerated swing of his hips as he ferries drinks between his little three song sets is one thing, but the dropping himself into the laps of older men who clearly adore him in the middle of breathy songs normally sung by women is another.
Blaine marvels that Kurt is able to work a room in this way; it's something he never expected, and it's fine, but it's more fine, and better for Kurt's wallet, if Blaine's not there staring at the ring that still makes nearly no sense on Kurt's finger.
When he does go, it's usually just towards the bitter end of the night to give Kurt a lift home. They value that time in the car immensely; their schedules now complicated and not in sync enough that it's one of the few guaranteed moments of connection they have outside of bed. But Blaine, so grateful that D.C. is no longer wasting Kurt's time and talent, doesn't complain.
*
“I'm going to New York next week,” Kurt says in the second half of May when Blaine's just about to descend into papers and projects and examinations.
“For?” he asks, cursing himself for actually sounding nervous.
“There's an open call. For one of the agencies that casts most of the chorus replacements on Broadway and for a bunch of the tours. Rachel told me about it.”
Blaine puts down the pencil he was using to keep his place in the text he was skimming and turns to Kurt. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“We're here.”
“In D.C., yes,” Kurt says, puzzled.
Blaine stands up and grips Kurt's shoulders, stunned that he feels this terrified and envious of what Kurt has always intended to do. “Not what I meant,” he says softly.
Kurt decides not to ask for clarification and kisses him chastely instead before twirling away from him.
“So, it's Wednesday morning. I'm taking a 2am bus; Rachel's going to hold us a place in line, and I should be there with her by 8. I'll come back the other way as soon as we have our post-mortem lunch.”
“I hope you get it,” Blaine says, and means it, even though it would probably be disastrous for their equilibrium.
“I won't,” Kurt says airily. “But I do need to see how far I am from yes.”
Blaine smiles at him, so, so ridiculously proud. That Kurt can look any type of no in the eye with equanimity amazes him; the coy and timid boy he'd first met at Dalton was shattering from rejection.
*
Blaine takes a break from studying to drive Kurt to the bus station.
“You have your resumes? And your head shots? And --”
“And products, and a mirror so I can freshen up on the line, the snacks you packed me, and my return ticket. Yes, Blaine. Now stop fretting.”
“Okay,” he says sheepishly.
Kurt smiles at him softly and presses a hand to his cheek. “I'm sorry I won't be in bed tonight.”
“I'll survive,” Blaine says, and then reaches unceremoniously towards Kurt zipper.
“What are you doing?” Kurt hisses, head darting frantically around to look out at the thankfully empty parking lot.
“Making sure you can sleep on the bus,” Blaine says before taking Kurt's cock into his mouth. Kurt slams his open palm against the window as he tries to brace himself against the startling, absurd pleasure of it all.
After, when Blaine nuzzles against his thigh, Kurt cards his fingers through Blaine's curls and says, “I love you,” over and over again as quietly as he can, because Blaine seems to need to hear it. Kurt honestly hopes they never need to discuss why.
*
New York is beautiful early in the morning, and Kurt feels proud, like everyone must know exactly where he's going, as he strides down the street to the church basement where the auditions are. The line of non-union hopefuls like him wraps around the block, but Rachel's not too far back, lounging smugly in a folding chair.
Kurt laughs. “You came prepared.”
“I have sixteen bars of everything, the perfect headshot, and a folding chair. I can't lose,” she says. It lacks the grating certainty of their high school lives, but she's heard enough no by now Kurt knows. It doesn't make her confidence less lovely. In fact, in a way, this is the first time her confidence has seemed lovely at all.
After she interrogates him about what he's singing (“I haven't decided, yet,” he says, even though he knows it's going to be “Rainbow High”) and is catty about the the top-ten American Idol finalist from three years ago who's about 20 feet behind them online, Kurt tells her about Blaine's little send off.
“Do you know,” Rachel says, “you have never once dished to me about your sex life once in all the time we've known each other?”
“That's not why I'm telling you this.”
“No, I know,” she says, turning serious.
“I don't think he's ever really bothered to think about what will happen if I succeed.”
“He probably hasn't,” she says. “Most people don't.”
“He's always been sure, but....”
“You'll figure it out,” she says, her voice turning brittle. “You two always do.”
Kurt nods, not knowing what else to say. The truth is he's a little bit angry at Blaine.
*
They get inside the building just before noon, and Kurt finds himself singing Evita to a sole auditor in what looks like little more than a broom closet sometime around one.
“Interesting choice,” the man says when Kurt's done and then staples a little yellow card to the top corner of his resume and hands it back to him. “You're past the first round; take this up to the check-in table and they'll point you to the next line.”
Kurt is breathless and shaky in his thank-yous and half crashes into the room's door as he leaves.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he says, bouncing up and down when he finds Rachel on that next line.
“I should have warned you,” she says. “There was no way you weren't going to get past that first one,” she says. “I always do.”
“This is my first time,” Kurt hisses at her. “Don't make it small.”
She takes his hand as they wait, but says nothing else.
*
In the next room, there are three auditors behind a table, and Kurt has a moment of uncertainty about his song choice. Yesterday, he'd thought it was funny, but now it seems just smug and weird to him, and he's no one, with a resume that only lists his job, his degree, his dance classes, and, god help him, high school.
“You live in D.C.?” the man seated in the middle asks.
“My partner's finishing school there; we'll be moving to New York as soon as he's done,” Kurt says, fudging the two years Blaine has left.
“And you --”
“Took a bus up here at 2am, yes.”
“Committed,” she says.
“Always,” Kurt says, like it's slightly embarrassing.
“All right, what are you going to sing for us?” asks the man on the end.
When he gets a raised eyebrow in response, Kurt gives the auditor his most flirtatious smile, takes a breath, and sings.
After, he tries to stop himself from twisting his torso back and forth while he waits for their response, but he can't; he's giddy and singing that song has always felt good; it is one of the first that ever granted him the right to exist.
“You have an amazing voice,” says that man in the middle.
“Thank you,” Kurt says, suddenly shy, hoping this man is the most important of his auditors.
“But you're not ready for this; and you're going to be a hard fit for a lot of shows.”
Kurt takes a deep breath and nods. He knows this, or at least he knew this, but he can feel the tears in his eyes.
“But if I don't see you back here with more on this resume, soon, I think we're all going to be seriously disappointed.”
Kurt nods furiously. “Absolutely. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he says breathlessly before giving them a wide grin and running out of the room. This time he doesn't crash into the door.
*
Outside on the street in front of the church Rachel is waiting for him, and he picks her up and spins her around.
“Oh my god, DID YOU GET IT?” she squeals at him once he puts her down.
Kurt shakes his head. “No. No. But one day I'm going to. Oh my god,” he says still shaking. “How did you do?”
“They'll let me know,” she says tightly. “That means no.”
“Let's go get lunch?” he asks, mainly because he just needs to sit down.
When she nods, he picks up her folding chair and slings it over his shoulder, a courtesy learned from Blaine.
*
When Kurt gets home, Blaine opens the door for him before he can even finish fumbling with his keys. Kurt drops his bag on the floor and pulls Blaine into a tight hug.
“Was it good? Was it... what happened?” Blaine asks, the tension in him acutely obvious.
“I pretty much got the best no a person can get,” Kurt says, setting Blaine away from him.
“I am so proud of you,” his boyfriend says for what seems like the dozenth time in two days.
Kurt smiles. “I sang 'Rainbow High.'”
Blaine smiles. “I bet you sold the hell out of it.”
“I did.”
“Arms and all,” Blaine adds, trying to stifle a laugh.
And Kurt smiles indulgently, remembering Blaine's reaction to his audition for the Warblers. “Arms and all,” he says and takes Blaine's hand, kissing the center of his palm.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 04:12 am (UTC)That's freaking adorable. LOL. ;) It's ironic. You'd think in this situation, Kurt's friends would be a result of Blaine being friends with them first. But, it's actually the other way around.
“And, if I want, she's going to recommend me as her replacement. It's not Broadway. It's not even New York. But it's a job, singing.”
Yay! The thought of someone getting a job doing something they enjoy always makes me happy.
Gotta say. I'm loving how happy/chipper/confident Kurt is feeling in this chapter. I hope we get to see more of this in season 3.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 04:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 04:15 am (UTC)The cabal's reactions were a think of beauty.
It will be very interesting to see how Blaine reacts when that no eventually changes to a yes, I have to say...
Seeing Blaine as the outsider in the in-group for a chance was interesting too. I suspect that the feeling is more common for him than for us as readers; after all, he came to New Directions late too.
I have no more words.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 06:03 am (UTC)He is always committed, both to going on that audition and to making his life with Blaine work.
Love the story and am eagerly looking forward to the developing story.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 02:00 pm (UTC)And you're the only person to have caught that (or mentioned catching that) so far, so yes!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 06:32 am (UTC)But it also makes him wonder if the only reason anyone can forgive him for the previous semester's social disaster (even if he does sing “My Simple Christmas Wish” every single shift) is because in a way, he's working for them now. This cynicism is excruciatingly sad, especially in light of how the cabal was so gobsmacked at hearing Kurt for the first time.
Blaine stands up and grips Kurt's shoulders, stunned that he feels this terrified and envious of what Kurt has always intended to do. God, this just screams of Blaine's insecurities and self-doubt (regarding himself and their relationship), in addition to his adoration of Kurt, and it's just... just.
Kurt cards his fingers through Blaine's curls and says, “I love you,” over and over again as quietly as he can, because Blaine seems to need to hear it. Kurt honestly hopes they never need to discuss why. This, and Kurt's anger at Blaine for encouraging Kurt while not really understanding what Kurt's success would mean, nails Kurt as the one who really has his fingers on the wrist of this relationship.
“But if I don't see you back here with more on this resume, soon, I think we're all going to be seriously disappointed.” Thank you for this. For all the encouragement he gets from Blaine, for all the fulfillment he gets from his dance classes, this was recognition I was relieved and happy to see. I also was very touched by his scenes with Rachel. So much love for this series.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 02:02 pm (UTC)The who's working for who thing, of course, also harkens back to the pilot: "One day, you'll all be working for me" or whatever it is Kurt says. Not exactly.
And yeah, Blaine's FLIPPING OUT and while his logistical needs have driven the pace of the relationship by and large, it's only Kurt who gets what the shape of this thing is going to be really, at least, based on the data he currently has (Blaine's holding a piece of information back about his own ambitions that prevents Kurt from having a full map there).
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 07:05 am (UTC)And I shouldn't enjoy the angst really, but whenever you write them facing something a bit difficult, I just find myself thinking, "Oh boys - You're barely past the honeymoon stage. You haven't hit the really hard stuff about being together yet!"
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:40 am (UTC)I'm very curious to see more of Blaine's reaction to all of this. I mean, not that Blaine's really a self-indulgent character, but it would be a lot for him if Kurt made it. I'm curious to see how that would turn out between them. Why is it that they seem to be SO strong most of the time, but every once in a while you get a hint that for all their strong facade, they are really just living in a glass house that is moments from breaking?
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:53 pm (UTC)I was worried Kurt wasn't going to do what he said he was going to do either. I think it's tempting for him not to, because he's used to coming at the world from a place of denial, but once this momentum started, it's just all so good.
And yeah, Blaine needs a bit of a lesson in "an artist is not a pet" -- I think he thinks Kurt having a creative career means he gets to take care of Kurt and tell him he's wonderful, and that's more than a bit simplistic.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:57 am (UTC)Kurt has his eyes closed as he reaches into the lower part of his register for the song's odd bridge and Blaine can't help but flinch as Kurt sings it because there is so much anger there. But of course there is. That's why he sings, and why Blaine is killing himself in grad school instead.
This is making me worry about Blaine the most, I have to say. You do such a great job with the separation between their ambitions, but that "instead" for Blaine is always bothering me. Hope that makes sense...
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 01:51 pm (UTC)Blaine sort of struggles with everything, I'm starting to realize. Kurt struggles too, but his mode is struggle, it doesn't seem terrible to him to struggle, and so he gets through, but Blaine's always like "why is this uncomfortable?"
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 02:23 pm (UTC)I try not to comment because I don't think I have quite the words to describe a story that is so complex in comparison to its inspiration (a musical show about high school drama, on FOX). But I couldn't not this time. I'm so glad that you're writing this, because Kurt and Blaine (to me) have more potential as characters than any other couple on the show. In some ways, the fic is better because it takes the most vague implications of their personalities and draws it far, far out to create art. (By the way, I read that fic article in TIME and was all, "YES. Amen! Hallelujah!")
So. Thank you. *twitches nervously*
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 04:10 pm (UTC)I have many thoughts, but mostly I just want to hug this whole series so far. Repeatedly.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 05:51 pm (UTC)But really, you're so fantastic and my heart cries with happy whenever you update! ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 05:59 pm (UTC)Also, Blaine singing "Papa Don't Preach" was such a funny, clever touch.
Kudos, rm.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-18 10:39 pm (UTC)All so lovely as always. Keep up the great work! ❤
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:38 pm (UTC)Kurt is really shameless when he's happy and it does make him seem young, but he's deserved this small bit of doing what he always intended for a while now.
And Blaine, of course, knows enough to freak out, but not enough to really think about it and calm down.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 04:40 am (UTC)I kind of feel like I want to wax poetic for paragraphs about the whole collection and the way it seizes control of my breath and stops it in my throat or pushes it quick and short in excitement or deep with joy, but we could be here a long time if I did that, so I'm going to constrain myself to this installment, and only one line in it at that.
"It's like coming out, Blaine thinks, but for possessing too much beauty."
I don't even know that this is my favorite line, but it's up there, and it was the first one here that made me pause. It's a little ridiculous and sappy, but Blaine is a little ridiculous and sappy, which makes it perfect.
Beyond that, after the discussion about how Kurt doesn't have to (or get to, depending on your perspective) come out to people, about how there are things about Kurt that aren't so much on his sleeve as written right across his face, how he has to live with people constantly making assumptions about him and -possibly worse - being *right*, at least some of the time, how Kurt would never really want to hide, but also doesn't ever have that option -- after all of that, the idea that he would choose to keep things like singing, like "possessing too much beauty" closer to his chest is beautiful and sad.
So there was still a lot of rambling in this, even if it was only on one line. The rest of the lines were wonderful too rest assured.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 02:40 pm (UTC)ONe of the most fun things about writing Blaine is getting to use all these big sappy lines I couldn't quite justify in any other fic. He's great fun doe my poetic streak!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 03:25 pm (UTC)Love Kurt's first audition and he was right - that was one of the nicest ways you could get a "no". The traveling to NYC will be hard, but it's totally doable. A friend of mine used to live in CT and traveled into NYC (about 3 hours each way) every few weeks for auditions (and then got a pretty good role in a touring company!) so I'm keeping my fingers crossed Kurt will have the same luck.
Thanks for the update! It was fantastic!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 04:07 pm (UTC)I commute from NY to Boston via train for a 36 hour trip ever other week. It's brutal and what Kurt's doing is even more exhausting. But people do it, yeah. Blaine's need to fret, while mostly about Blaine, is somewhat reasonable.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 05:56 pm (UTC)I love that Blaine is trying so hard to be supportive through his insecurity!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-19 06:29 pm (UTC)There totally are, the question is whether Kurt can let himself think small and schedule issues, which were already sort of starting to raise tensions here.
And yeah, Blaine's flipping out and trying not to be an asshole.
You should probably ignore this because its a long random rant -_-
Date: 2011-07-20 07:12 pm (UTC)**sigh**
I just feel dread when I read this. Because they're too boys buzzing with potential and promise and hopes and dreams and just tied down and especially Kurt and especially this chapter, he's simply pouring out how much he's ready to fly.
And I expect it to just break apart one day. Just like that. Fall apart cause one of them doesn't want this anymore. Things can't go right. Things somehow has to go wrong, you're never satisfied if it doesn't, if you're not truly unhappy from the core, you don't appreciate when you are happy, it's like you forget happiness
And this : After, when Blaine nuzzles against his thigh, Kurt cards his fingers through Blaine's curls and says, “I love you,” over and over again as quietly as he can, because Blaine seems to need to hear it. Kurt honestly hopes they never need to discuss why.
Other than how much it satisfies the part of my brain that is always in the gutter. I just stopped reading at this line, just stared at the screen because god people need that, just told that they are loved. Not shown, not intanglibly expressed but outright blurted on their faces and there is just nothing to discuss about it.
You break my heart when its not even meant to be broken. YOU SUCK! (In this really awesome, inexplicable way)
And its weird how this future!fic inspires to write an even further future!fic about them. Probably about things falling about when Kurt is 32 or something. I've been thinking about it and even though its not a spin off of this (probably not even remotely similar).But I'd just feel like I was plagiarizing or something if I went and wrote it without letting you know that I will or want to
Re: You should probably ignore this because its a long random rant -_-
Date: 2011-07-20 07:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-31 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-31 09:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 04:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-03 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-03 02:30 am (UTC)I almost never beta, but
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-08-03 09:29 am (UTC)(also, sent you a PM)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-13 02:09 pm (UTC)(Oh god, have to go back and find the PM. PM's and me -- so bad!)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-13 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-13 02:08 pm (UTC)Next two:
http://rm.livejournal.com/2117433.html
http://rm.livejournal.com/2125488.html
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-10-09 04:34 pm (UTC)It is weird show to be fannish about, isn't it? I feel like it's against everything the show stands for (and why I like it) to apologize for liking it, and at the same time, sometimes, I really feel like I've got to. I've still not reconciled that.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-30 04:25 pm (UTC)Also, jsyk, there's no link from this one to the next, which I am off to read presently :)
no subject
Date: 2012-02-17 04:13 pm (UTC)