Tag: v: devil you know

Kinda Fun

kurt.

Kurt’s gaze lingered on the photos.  He wasn’t surprised that Blaine kept them.  It’s been a while since he saw them himself though.  Kurt hadn’t really packed mementoes when he left home, and when he decided he was leaving with Oliver he felt a knot in his chest when he spotted pictures in his own room and opted to tuck them away while he paced about.  Now he let out a small sigh and turned back to Blaine.

Kurt made a face and handed him the glass.  “You could’ve waited until you had the water so you wouldn’t taste them like that.”  Another glance around and Kurt couldn’t help it- he picked up the scattered bits of clothing, stacked neatly any books that weren’t open.  “I don’t know what your recovery time is so I have you have some good sunglasses- we’re going out in a while.”  Probably not until the afternoon.  “I’m going to make breakfast but I am so done with being cooped up in one place.”  He explained lightly.  He started going outside periodically after the first three months, give or take a week, and by now he could go where he pleased so long as he told Oliver the general area just in case of distance being too much, but there had been limitations for so long he was having trouble sitting still.  He knows it was for his safety – his and other’s – but he couldn’t help but be uncomfortable with some familiarities to that time.

Blaine tried so hard to keep as much of the blanket around his face that he could for as long as possible.  Sitting up made that increasingly difficult.  Opting for the semi-on-elbows and knees curly ball might’ve compromised what dignity he had but it proved that he hadn’t lost his bendy self on the months he stopped performing at least!  “Tastes like chalk but I don’t care.  Burned most of my tastebuds off last night.”  And the covers stayed on enough that he was sort of resembling a one man blanket loaf which suited his needs just fine.  Grateful for both, he lifted his hand and dipped down to meet the rim of the glass.

After Criss Angel-ing the entire contents while Kurt cleaned up his clothing trail–Blaine sat the empty glass on the nightstand and curled back up not really moving from his huddle because moving sort of definitely sucked.  “Going out?  Going out where,” he asked but it was clear that he was immediately interested in spending the day with Kurt. His voice brightened.  Becoming less of a groan and more excitedly awake. Suffering through the sunshine would be worth it if he got to be near him.  “Got the sunglasses, duh,” he teased trying to will away the spinning that wouldn’t quit.  Food? Normally with this bad of a hangover?  Food was the last thing he wanted–but Kurt’s cooking? There was no way he’d turn that down. God.  How long had it been since he had it?  Forever. “Oh, please, food. Yes.  Your food.  I don’t care where we’re going as long as the day starts there.”  So said the hidden voice finally throwing off the covers to reveal its owner.  Step One of getting out of bed? Done!  All he had to do next was move!

Kinda Fun

kurt.

“You don’t even know what I would do.”  Kurt mused, a grin pulling at his lips.  He couldn’t help but be amused at once again not being the one hung over.  “Here,”  He set the aspirin in Blaine’s palm and waited for him to realize he might need to sit up to get any water to go along with them.  

In all honesty, he isn’t entirely sure how he feels about being around Blaine again.  It will probably be easier when they’re both up and about.  For now he’s not sure how this is going to go.  It felt similar to last time, but calmer.  It helped that he could see how different Blaine was feeling compared to before when he was radiating a mess.  Other than that though…  It wasn’t quite like he remembered.  No parents to worry about or dramatic friends, Kurt didn’t even quite look like he used to, and sympathy was harder to access despite having more knowledge of hangovers now.  Between one or two nights as a human with Oliver, and again once he was functioning more normally again, Kurt has removed his title of designated driver.  On the bright side, the sped healing made it much harder to get drunk and removed most all potential hangover; his body would be healed by the time morning rolled around.  And yet, Kurt still wasn’t much for regularly drinking.  Regardless, the point was that he couldn’t bring himself to feel any different than he did at the moment- detached in a way, like this wont last or isn’t really real yet.  So as he glanced around the room once more, he was just trying to notice any changes made.

“I don’t wanna know what you’d do if that was your opening act,” he groaned.  Blaine clutched the pills like they were a rope tossed to a drowning man but so far?  Made no inclination that he was willing to move from his hiding spot.  Kurt came to him.  Whiled tucked away underneath the pillow–hangover or not–he stole those precious few moments to digest the idea now that he was more awake.  Kurt was here.  Of his own free will.  No doubt to check up on him after that horrid string of texts that Blaine drunkenly sent but wasn’t so wasted at that point that he was given the gift of forgetting.  This means something.  Doesn’t it?  Was it some masochistic streak that he couldn’t shake that had his heart leaping in his chest when he allowed himself to answer that question with a ‘yes’?  Maybe.  But he couldn’t help himself from feeling so anyway.

His room was pretty much the same.  A little in disarray from the string of clothes that ran from the door to his bed.  A tie tossed at the beginning, a cardigan followed and socks, shoes, belt being the last pieces of clothing at the foot of his bed.  He slept in the rest.  There were other small changes dotted about.  Dalton books scattered on his desk.  His blazer hung on the back of his chair with a tie folded neatly on top of the lapel.  There was one thing that remained unchanging, unmoving in spite of his parents efforts to get him to put them away after a month or two because he ‘deserved to give himself a break’.  Every photo of the two of them together that they’d either picked out matching frames for.  Or his favorite ones of Kurt he’d framed himself?  Those were precisely where he’d placed them.  His dresser, the desk, his bed stand. Refusing to let them out of his sight–they remained.  Finally, the bed creaked underneath his shifting weight as he slowly sat up and let the pillow fall away.  Tired, squinted eyes glanced up at Kurt as he shoved the pills in his mouth and held them with his tongue.  “Water, please?”

Kinda Fun

kurt.

Kurt blinked when Blaine yelled, taking a few steps back just to be safe as he watched the other scramble about for a moment. “It was a little funny though.” He said softly, a smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll get you an aspirin and some water.” He’d clue him in now except, well, the least he could do was let Blaine loose some of the ache and gain some more consciousness before too much conversation took place. He knew Blaine’s house still, so the time it takes him to find what he needs is really just to look around. Last time he saw Blaine it was at Dalton where nothing changed but the students.  He supposed it wasn’t likely that anything in the house had changed either, but he still wanted to take his time a little bit.  He’d start a pot of coffee while he’s at it too.

Kurt tries not to feel too nostalgic here, but he can’t help the small sighs and soft smiles. When he returns to Blaine’s room it’s with a glass of water and two aspirins as promised.  “If you’re falling asleep then I have every intention of waking you up in worse ways.”  He says as he enters the room.  Granted, he’s used to waking up Oliver, who would need at least ten alarms before he stopped hitting the snooze button if he had anything specific to wake up for.  There were only a few ways to get Kurt quiet however, and mornings are usually much more of a fight with them than it was with Blaine.  Of course, comparing those two was like comparing night and day- a strangely fitting analogy for them actually.

“Funny?!  How was that funny,” Blaine grabbed hold of the pillow and pulled it over his head shutting out the light in the room and giving a buffer to any background noise other than Kurt’s voice.  “That would be great.  Thank you,” his tone softened and he managed to smile in spite of the knives stabbing into his temples that happened in one explosion of ache.  Yeah–bad life choices that were his own undoing?  He swore to himself it’d be the last time he put himself through this hell.  Just like every other regretful, hungover poor bastard come sunrise.  If his head would stop spinning long enough?  There might be enough umph! in him to come out from his hiding spot and give that curve of his lips to Kurt’s back as he walked out of the room but so far?  Not going to happen.  Aspirin and water could draw him out.  No doubt about that. Until then?  Kurt deserved the company of Blaine’s hidden face and legs helplessly squirming to get comfortable after they tried to kick the pain away to no avail.

One thing stuck in his mind though.  Enough that he might consider the headache and nausea a small price to pay for.  His house was locked for the night, he didn’t expect it–might’ve hoped for it in vain but definitely not expected Kurt to show up in the morning.  But he was here and that meant so much more than Blaine’s common sense told him he should let it.  Preaching to the choir.  A silly saying considering the circumstances and who they revolved around but–that’s what it was when it came to his heart feeling a bit lighter and–no.  He needed a distraction and the throbbing in his head was waiting in the background to give him one with a vengeance level dosage.  “Oh God–don’t.  I don’t want to know what could be worse than that,” he mumbles after a small startle from his stillness at the sound of Kurt’s voice.  Without retracting from his pillow cover–Blaine jutted out his hand, palm up, and waved his fingers frantically for the Aspirin. “Please tell me you found it?”

Kinda Fun

that was not nice.

A smarter person might wait longer. It’s been a while since he saw Blaine and there was still time before he left, but less now. He had an eternity to live his life and create new ones when he simply couldn’t avoid questions about his never-aging face, but Kurt wasn’t one to wait around. This may be in part why he chose to see Blaine. It may not be quite the right time yet, but he dismissed the possibility in favor of disturbing Blaine’s definite hangover. Now, demons didn’t have some magic way of slipping into people’s homes, but something Oliver taught him before that became relevant was how to get into almost any building at any time. The guy wasn’t the most classy, what could he say. It came in handy, obviously. So yes, Kurt was breaking and entering, but really, what else was expected of him given his… State of being? That sounded about right. Once the door is shut behind himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have lost a social standard or something because since when did Kurt Hummel break into bedrooms instead of knocking? He shook off his concerns easily enough.

It wasn’t exactly early, but it was a weekend and judging by last night, Blaine could probably sleep for a lot longer. This was also something Kurt dismissed. He waited about five minutes, started to debate how to go about waking his friend for another two, and finally just pulled the pillow from under Blaine’s head.

Blaine was sprawled out on the bed thanks to having been dropped there.  One sober moment of clarity crossed his mind during the night.  A huge revelation came when he saw the string of text messages he was blabbering to Kurt in–I miss you being the confession he started his night out trying to forget?  The only thing that would erase his mistake of keeping his cellphone on him was more alcohol. A bad potentially idea that ended up–kinda good?  His friends were more than happy to keep the drinks coming so he didn’t notice when someone–he had no idea who–did him the favor of putting his cellphone in their pocket.  Three shots later–their Blaine was back.  Out on the dancefloor laughing drunkenly and dancing until the lights came on.  He was so sleeping in.  The house was empty.  If anyone crashed?  They didn’t pass out in his bedroom so he had quiet and dark and it was perfect.  His last thoughts were that his bed felt too good and maybe he might regret his life choices when he woke up with his pending hellacious hangover–and then nothing.  Until he felt the stomach churning sensation that he was falling, too dead asleep to realize it was only his head.  Blaine’s entire body reacted.

He gasped for air like he was drowning, hazel eyes flung open wide and every limb seemed to scramble for something to kick or hang onto–the side of the bed worked–to keep himself from meeting his doom on the floor. His mind didn’t quite make sense of anything either and he shouted in panic.  “OH God!  I’m FALL–,” his scream made his temples burst and splinter up his skull.  Blaine buried his face back down into the sheet, hand waving as if to say he was okay before he cracked an eye open and peeked up at–Kurt instantly blushing ten shades of red. “That wasn’t okay..  That was not okay..oh God my head hurts…” Groaning–he covered his face with his arm and fell back onto the bed wanting nothing more than to lay there.

Out Of Luck

kurt.

“I promise.”  He said softly.  Kurt couldn’t describe how great it felt that he could calm Blaine down.  That he was allowed to hold him like this.  He wondered if it would be more poetic or humorous if he were an undead creature, how his heart seemed to stop when Blaine kissed him. Technically he might be, depending on the definition. He was killed but brought back as something else. He had a heart and a pulse just the same as any living creature. A different kind, but it was there. This was something he usually thought about in his spare time, not a serious situation. But honestly, when he felt Blaine cupping his face it was just so familiar it was heartbreaking.

Blaine wasn’t the last person he’s kissed anymore until that moment. Interesting from a distance how he could not only leave without a word but let himself be with someone else. If it crossed his mind then he’d be guilty, but he was hardly thinking for the time being aside from a simple ‘Don’t thank me’– He wasn’t lying but he might not be the right person to be here for Blaine.  At this point it might be entirely selfish.  That wasn’t about to stop him.  He already was here.  If he was going to keep his distance then he wouldn’t have come at all.  This might not be good for either of them.  Mostly, this might do more damage than good for Blaine.  What was going to happen when he asked questions the next time?  How many details would he have to tell him?  Lying, and cheating, and dying and killing- maybe what went through his head during any given part of the story.  It was a long story.

He did miss Blaine.  He missed when this felt like home.  Kurt didn’t have a person to call that as things are.  Holding Blaine was like sleeping in his old room again; he wanted to be there but it was strangely…Crushing.

Red-laced hazel eyes softened at Kurt’s promise, staring up into the eyes that his brain refused to think of anything other than familiar.  In spite of how they changed–Blaine was getting awfully good at lying to himself and pretending hard enough that he could believe what he convinced himself of to get by.  His fingers curled against Kurt’s cheeks gliding his knuckles in a tender caress down the sides of his neck until they dropped to his shoulders.  There were so many questions teetering on the fragile tightrope inside his mind that he walked across.  But–in the end–he couldn’t bring himself to ask them because he wasn’t sure he could take the answers.  Not yet.  Not now.  Not when he had Kurt’s arms still around him and that unending sway.

Instead–he clutched onto Kurt and let the weight of months of ache, worry, and losing his mind slide away.  It could be the most dangerous thing he could do–sure.  Falling back into the gravity that he lost when Kurt disappeared though?  It wasn’t something he wanted to fight.  He’d been waiting for so long for this.  Now, he had it.  Another brush of lips against the edge of Kurt’s then Blaine tucked his head down.  Exhaling hard–he sagged against him and stayed there savoring how their chests rose and fell.  His weight Kurt supported increased little by little over the span of minutes.  The more he let go of the exhaustion he’d been holding back, the heavier it sank in just how much was waiting to catch up.  He could fall asleep on his feet this felt so warm and perfect and–

He sharply sniffed, blinking back awake.  Was he really drifting off?  –No. Wake up.  You just got him back.  Wake up!– “Sorry–I’m awake.”  Was it weird that an old bad habit of shaking off sleep was something that made him smile lazily because he let it?   In comparison to not being able to?  That this felt so much better.  In the past?  Before Kurt left?  It was because he wanted their time together to not end.  Be it cuddling, talking–other things. Blaine leaned back enough that he could look up at Kurt’s jaw as another wave of sleep lost the battle against his willpower but his legs feeling like they were in cement?  Not so much.  “Can we just lay down?”

kurt.

[text]:  Good lord.
[text]:  I don’t think you’re in any shape to look out for them, but fine.
[text]:  If you need anything just tell me ok?

[text|delayed]:  I miss you too.

( mssg » kurt | sent ) i know. regretting turning the spellchecker off on this thign so badright now.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) sure.  thnks.

( mssg/delayed » kurt | sent ) yeah..
( mssg » kurt | sent )

i gotta go–just sorrty for making you worry. 

kurt. 

[text]: You’re stuck there?!?
[text]: God dammit. Wait outside. I’ll call a taxi or something to come get you.
[text]: Keep talking to me so I don’t worry.

( mssg » kurt | sent ) well Not so muchas stcuk. More the rexst of the WArblers are still drinkign and the DD is probably doing someone that coudl get the guy he’s with arrested. so i’ll be here for a while.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) God my typing is horrible.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) I’m no t waiting outside and don’t call a cab i can do that if i need to. Got to keep an eye on the guys.  seriously  i’m fine. no reason to worry about me. i jsut missed you it’s not like i don’t do that a lot.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) It’s sweet htat you would though.

Out Of Luck

kurt.

When Blaine didn’t fight him, it was relief. But soon he was melting against Kurt and he missed it so much- missed how easy to was to be wrapped around Blaine. He held him close and hoped placing his cold hand on the back of Blaine’s neck wasn’t uncomfortable. Despite the tears and the strong emotion in the room it felt like a brief peace to Kurt until Blaine spoke.

Not for one second had he thought he could cause this. Hell, even before Oliver he always assumed he would be more damaged if they ever broke up. But here he was, guilty and honestly scared by his own effect. How did this happen? How did any of it happen? Nothing went how he thought it would, how it should have gone, instead he wound up here. He wished it was enough. No ‘I didn’t want this’ was going to make either of them feel better though.

Kurt did not speak. He unknowingly swayed them both just slightly, playing with Blaine’s hair, and not making a sound. Some unmeasured time passed – he guessed it wasn’t actually more than a few minutes, but it felt like so long – before he dared try to speak, but when he did he was steady. Emotion conveyed in his voice, but still calm all the same, similar to defeat he supposed.
“We can make this ok, Blaine. We can.” And they would. Eventually, it would be ok. He would not leave Ohio without making it right on some level.

Blaine seemed to not notice the chill of Kurt’s touch.  Or if he did?  He didn’t react to it in a negative way.  No pulling back, sharp breaths or flinching at the contrast of the heat radiating off his skin verses the cool of Kurt’s.  How could he shrug away or feel anything but the touch he was internally screaming to have for what felt like an agonizing forever?  The bridge of his nose only fit tighter against Kurt’s neck as desperate arms closed tight around Kurt’s shoulders.

He’d begged Kurt to let them make it okay.  Took his heart and wore it on his sleeve for Kurt to see he meant every word.  Like he didn’t know that already.  There wasn’t anything else he could do.  Was there?  It didn’t stop his mind from being a storm of confusion and despairing racking as he tried to figure out if there was and what it could be. Calm only came as Kurt began to sway them.  The motion of their rocking and Kurt’s arms were soothing when what answer he could be waiting for could possibly be anything but.  His weight rested more heavily against the familiarity of Kurt’s chest.  Lungs heaved in a breath and then deflated to a normal pattern instead of panicked and shallow.  Kurt had to feel this too. Didn’t he?  That this was home and without it nothing seemed to fit right.  Relief flooded in so fast that it was dizzying.  “Promise?”

They could?  Kurt said so and Blaine–in spite of the lies and him leaving–believed him.  Why? Because he was Kurt and Blaine might be foolish but he was just so done not having anything solid to hold onto when it came to the man he loved that he’d take the promise and hang onto it because it was all he needed–for now.  Lifting his head up–Blaine met those eyes bending his elbows between their bodies to cup Kurt’s cheeks.
Without considering any other outcome–he kissed him for the first time in so long that it felt like the very first.  But every time did for him and maybe that was his first mistake.  From now on? He’d just kiss him like it was the last time instead.  His heart clenched in his chest and a soft sigh touched Kurt’s lips–Blaine’s lingering dangerously close as he whispered, “Thank you.”