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rikke_leonhart) wrote2011-05-27 11:52 am
Fic: From the spaces between the stardust
Pairing(s): Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nuh-uh!
Word count: ~14,000-ish omg
Summary: Sort of AU. So Kurt never set foot on Dalton to spy, but sometimes the gravitational pull is enough to shape a story.
Author's Notes: OH EM GEE. Glee fic. GLEE FIC. I want to cry. My first fic outside of Arashi fandom in years. I feel so oddly liberated. A huge thank you to Gati for the usual handholding, and to
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sunscribble for flailing with me :D Title from the lovely Becky 's translation of Song For Me. My bias, I know, is as subtle as it's overwhelming. Also, lj is a pain that won't let me post it properly.*
His knuckles are tight around the steering wheel, his skin going white at the pressure, and he stares out over the sea of red-and-blue blazers that moves in ripples across the grass to the school.
It would be so easy.
It would be so easy to turn off the engine, take a deep breath and get out of the car and get lost in the crowd, mingle a bit (lie a bit) and figure out the who and the why and the how. It would be so easy. He’s heard of this school, and people are actually supposed to be nice. It would be so easy. It would be nice. To have people talk to him and not shove him into nearest hard surface available. He isn’t even sure he knows how to behave around nice people anymore.
But still, it would be easy. It’s supposed to be easy. It should be easy.
Except it’s not. It really isn’t. The concept of people being nice is foreign and it scares him. Puck told him to go and spy on these people, but he isn’t sure he’s that person. He’s the first to admit he’s made some pretty shitty decisions and has been a crap friend on more than one occasion, but he really thinks that this would rank pretty high on his shit list. If he drives back home now and says to the others that he wasn’t allowed in, it wouldn’t be too much of a lie.
It would be true, because he wouldn’t have allowed himself.
He doesn’t want to go in and see how great it could be in there behind the gilded walls, because he knows he can’t have it.
When he looks down to his hands, they’re still strongly wrapped around the wheel, and he lets go with a deep breath. He looks at the boys disappearing into the school.
It would be so easy.
Kurt pulls the car around and drives right back to where he came from.
*
At McKinley, a boy gets a slushie thrown painfully at his face, and it stings, but even if his eyes sting, too, he doesn’t cry, because he’s better than that. And he never takes the easy way out.
At Dalton, a boy decides that they’ve run through Teenage Dream enough times and it won’t be necessary with just one more rerun.
*
At McKinley, Kurt’s breath hitches when someone shoves into him, because his skin is still somewhat sore from when he last had been forced to take a closer look at the hard surface of the lockers. He wraps himself up and steels his spine, but sometimes it’s just so hard. People don’t see what they don’t want to see, and that’s the fact of the matter. He’d thought it’d stop hurting after a while, but it just doesn’t stop.
He thinks back on that dark day where his dad had looked at him, had really looked at him, and imparted the severity of his words; No one pushes the Hummels around. Kurt believes that with all he has, but everyone else seems to have missed the memo. He takes courage from it, though, because he can’t bear to be to more grief to his dad. He tries to keep his head high, and he takes comfort in knowing that he’s better than them all combined, and he’s the one who will leave the rest of them behind, and he won’t look back and regret.
He hopes he won’t regret anything.
He’s proud of who he is, because he knows who he is and what he is. He wants his dad to continue having faith and pride in him, and that’s why, when Karofsky shoves him again, Kurt doesn’t back down.
He follows.
*
At McKinley, a boy gets his first kiss stolen and his life threatened.
At Dalton, a boy debates which coffee would be the best for the afternoon.
*
At Sectionals, Blaine Anderson is excited for their performance. He lives for this, the thrill he gets, the energy he receives from everyone, and it’s amazing. People are amazing, and he loves making people smile and rock in their chairs, hum along, maybe even dance a little, even if it’s just their tippy toes wriggling to the melodies, and he just breathes.
He likes the excitement of fluttery nerves and scales being run through backstage, and he laughs a little when he sees their competition rummage around.
He has heard of New Direction and their form of seemingly disorganized chaos, and to be honest, he isn’t really worried. Everyone is prepared and they’ll face their competition as well as they can.
On the other hand, New Directions is just so full of energy, he can feel it from where he stands.
He grins when he hears several voices that should’ve been grating against each other, but somehow miraculously manages to avoid cacophonous proportions - a clear girly voice positively shrieking, a deeper girly voice snapping something, a distinct male, and then a high “Finn, seriously, I’m not a girl, please move away from me, I’m not going to keel over,” and then Blaine hears nothing more, because it’s showtime.
Later, he cheers when the other groups perform, he whoops and jumps and grins, and while the judges are voting, Wes sends him away from the backstage area (because “I get nauseous from watching your jitter-ism,” “Is that even a word?” “My god, just go away,”) and he opts for fresh air. As he’s about to open the door leading outside, he hears the same high voice from earlier;
“Seriously, Puckerman, you can go, it’s not like he’ll show up here.”
And then, a deeper voice; “Finn will kill me if I leave you alone.”
“I can assure you that Finn will be the smallest of your concerns if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”
And then: “Five minutes, Hummel.”
Blaine frowns. He also nearly topples over when the door opens and the mohawked guy from New Directions shuffles past him, and while he does look Blaine over as if gauging for potential terrorist material, he just passes him, and Blaine can’t help but feel that he just aged three years.
When he steps outside, he sees another boy from New Directions, crouched down, back against the wall and an open pack of cigarettes between his fingers. He looks up.
Blaine freezes but attempts a smile. “Hi.”
The boy nods. “Hello.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Suit yourself,” the boy says. He looks indifferent, but the stiffness of his shoulders is familiar to Blaine in ways that makes a shiver prickle at his neck and pool uncomfortably at the base of his spine.
His mouth feels dry all of a sudden. He eyes the boy and then he raises an eyebrow. “Should you be smoking?”
“I hope you’re thinking in regards of my voice and not my age,” the boy says and looks to the pack of cigarettes. “And no, I don’t smoke, it’s Puck’s.”
As if Blaine knows exactly who that is, except that he kind of does because he’s a bit of an eavesdropper. “I’m Blaine,” he offers instead.
“Yeah, Dalton, right?” And he’s not waiting for an answer before he fills in: “I’m Kurt.”
Blaine is in the middle of formulating Nice to meet you. New Directions? Cool, you were really good, your numbers were really cool and why are your eyes so sad? when the boy from before, Puck, gets back and Kurt sighs in exasperation.
“That wasn’t five minutes,” he says flatly, his jaw set.
Puck shrugs. “You had my cigarettes. Also, Mr. Schue wants you to come back inside.”
“Not without a proper escort, no doubt,” Kurt murmurs but makes it sound like a snap, and then he looks at Blaine. “Nice to meet you, Blaine from Dalton.”
And that, Blaine supposes, is that.
*
At Sectionals, McKinley and Dalton tie. Blaine is only mildly disappointed.
*
Blaine meets Kurt Hummel again on a ridiculously wet day.
In the same café that Blaine normally frequents, he backtracks on his way to the counter, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the steeled set of that jaw. And he’s right. Kurt is sitting tucked into a corner, a phone and a single cup in front of him, and he’s looking out of the window as if nothing is more important than watching the rain fall.
Blaine hesitates. It would be weird, right?
That doesn’t stop him from going over there after he has ordered, though, and when he clears his throat he almost regrets it, because Kurt startles.
“Hi,” Blaine says, his throat suddenly dry. “Mind if I sit?”
“Ah,” Kurt says and sits up straighter, pulling his legs back so there’s room for Blaine across from him. Blaine thinks that is invitation enough. “Blaine. Warbler.”
“Yes,” he says, pleased. “And you’re Kurt. From New Directions.”
Kurt smiles, somewhat tight around the edges of his mouth, and he nods briefly. And then goes right back to staring out the window, his hands cradling the cup in front of him. The phone on the table lights up briefly, alerting to a new message, but Kurt only glances at it before looking away again.
Blaine’s throat feels dry, suddenly. “I didn’t get to say it before, but congratulations, you were really good at Sectionals.”
Kurt looks at him sideways, not moving his head at first, but then he turns and smiles again, still oddly taut. “Not good enough,” he says and shrugs. “If we’d been good enough, we wouldn’t have tied. But tying with Dalton is better than tying with the Hipsters,” he adds with a small grin.
Blaine chuckles. “I hadn’t looked at it that way, but I guess you’re right.”
Something shifts behind Kurt’s eyes and then he’s leaning back again, sighing softly and looking down on his phone, lighting up in an incoming call. A peculiar expression flits across his face, almost a wince, but he doesn’t move to pick it up. He just continues to stare down at it.
“Not going to take that?”
He startles again, as if he’s forgotten that Blaine even is there. “No,” he concedes. “I’m not.”
Blaine wants to ask. He doesn’t. Instead, he realizes that Kurt’s cup is almost empty. “Can I get you a new cup of coffee? My treat.”
The smile that greets him this time is a little less tense than before, and somehow, it feels like a landslide of a victory.
*
At McKinley, a boy flinches when a locker slams; he shrinks back when a bully nears him, and his mind is going into overdrive – don’tkillmedon’tkillmedon’tkillmedon’t –
At Dalton, a boy gets his history essay back and smiles in satisfaction at the A in the corner.
*
Blaine is only halfway surprised when he walks into the café to get his usual order and sees Kurt, tucked into that same booth in the corner and still just looking out. He looks up when Blaine approaches, though, and that reaction does something to Blaine’s stomach.
He’s thinking of saying something along the line of we’ve got to stop meeting like this or something equally as cheesy, but he doesn’t, because that firm jaw is set again and those eyes are wide and wondering, and still so sad.
“Hi,” he settles for and slips into the seat opposite of Kurt without asking for permission. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Kurt moves his coffee and his phone on the table slightly closer to his body and then he allows a small smile, it seems. “Hi.”
“I know that the coffee here is spectacular,” Blaine then says in lieu of taking a sip of his coffee and scalding his tongue as result. “But isn’t Westerville a bit far from Lima for that?”
Kurt’s face darkens and Blaine desperately wishes he could backtrack, because he didn’t mean to put that expression on his face. “You’ll find that sometimes you’ll go far for what you want.”
Blaine isn’t sure they’re talking about coffee anymore, and he feels like a change of topic might be appropriate right about now, so he says; “You here alone again?”
“No,” Kurt returns rather dryly. “There just isn’t anyone else here.”
Blaine chuckles right until he notices Kurt’s phone lighting up again in a silent call that goes ignored. “Your phone is ringing.”
Kurt glances down, looking largely unimpressed. “So it is.”
“You really should pick up,” Blaine tries. “Maybe it’s important?”
He’s treated to an honest to god eye roll, an impressive one at that, but Kurt does reach for the phone and accepts the call. “Yes, Finn?”
Someone from New Directions (and oh, wasn’t Finn the step brother?), Blaine remembers vaguely and leans back in his seat and just watches and tries to not seem too interested in the one-sided conversation – a conversation held in a voice stiffer than Blaine has heard from Kurt while they’ve been meeting here. It’s reminiscent of how he’d spoken to that Puckerman guy at Sectionals, borderline haughty.
“I’m out to get some coffee,” Kurt is saying and after a pause, gentler; “Yes of course. No, no one here besides me.”
Blaine is already recognizing the way Kurt is trying not to let an enormous sigh out.
“I’m… good,” Kurt then promises softly, lowering his voice impossibly with a glance in Blaine’s direction. “Don’t worry so much. Bye.”
He knows he’s doing a terrible job at feigning disinterest, because he can literally feel Kurt’s exasperation reeking from him. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy,” Kurt says and takes a long sip from his coffee.
Blaine wishes he could believe him.
*
At McKinley, a boy steels his spine with a deep breath before he leaves class.
At Dalton, a boy doesn’t feel entirely prepared for the Christmas show, but he figures it’ll go over okay after all.
*
If Kurt is entirely honest, he’s not sure why he keeps making the drive to that café. Yes, partly, it’s wonderful to get away and not risk anyone he knows suddenly stopping by, and yes, partly, he might be hoping to see Blaine, but most of all, no one here knows him. He doesn’t need his perimeter of bodyguards here. He doesn’t have to fear a bodycheck into the lockers. No one is looking at him and thinking he’s going to break down any second.
And again, yes, this place might have Blaine.
He’s not even sure how that happened. When Blaine had said hello at Sectionals, Kurt hadn’t expected to see him again. Kurt’s life is simply tailored that way – decent people aren’t meant to stick around. Even if he knows that isn’t all true, it feels that way, as if he’s made of glass and everyone else just slips off when they show even the tiniest hint of wanting to maybe hold on.
He hadn’t expected to meet Blaine here.
He’s not upset or disappointed – it’s nice and Blaine doesn’t know him. Blaine doesn’t know all the messy things in Kurt’s life that makes it really hard to just go down and get his books, but Blaine can easily mention his favorite book, his favorite musical and how Kurt still hopes Mr. Schuester will see the light and stop committing fashion murder by wearing those vests.
Having someone who doesn’t know him is good.
He knows that if he’s not careful, he’ll start crushing real soon, but liking someone has never worked out well for him, and right now, he doesn’t think he can handle any more. More correctly – he knows he can’t handle any more.
He’ll wait it out.
He feels like he’s always waiting.
*
For once, Blaine gets to the café before Kurt, and he takes the liberty of ordering for him, adding a muffin to the order, because it’s only Christmas once a year. He doesn’t even know why he’s so sure Kurt will show up today, he just is.
He isn’t disappointed.
Kurt strides in, rubbing gloved hands together for a moment and then he spots Blaine, and, oh, is Blaine imagining the hint of a smile falling from those lips? He steps up to the table – their table, tucked neatly into the corner – and tugs the gloves off his hands.
“Merry Christmas,” Kurt says gently and he looks soft and young for a moment as he eyes the coffee already on the table. With that soft smile, he also looks at least ten shades warmer and far more approachable than usual. “Is that for me?”
“I dared assume I had your order down,” Blaine says and probably sounds like an idiot, but Kurt grins at his attempt. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not,” Kurt breathes – he sounds so grateful – and shrugs off his coat. “Thank you.”
Blaine wishes he could say “it’s just coffee,” but he has a feeling that won’t go down well. Kurt’s eyes are still so sad even when he smiles, and it hurts, somehow. “You’re welcome.”
“I can’t stay for too long,” Kurt says after a moment and Blaine feels unreasonably disappointed. It’s not like they’d planned this – it’s not like they’ve ever planned to meet up here, and Kurt really has no obligations tying him down to this café. He looks apologetic as he says it. “It’s supposed to get really crazy with the snow later, so I promised I’d go back before it got too insane.”
Blaine really has nothing to say against that. “You’ll be okay to drive back in that?”
For the first time since Blaine met Kurt, Kurt snorts in amusement. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about handling a car, even in weather like this.”
He’s not entirely convinced, but Blaine has no idea where his brain is going with that thought. Kurt has obviously been fine on the way here and if he isn’t on the way back, what does Blaine expect him to do? Follow him back to Dalton and stay there until the snow lessens? He can’t remember a time where he has hated his brain more than right now.
He wants to say something clever and witty to cover up for the fact that he has no idea what he’s doing, but he stays silent and just watches Kurt. He’s pale and looks tired, and maybe he has lost some weight?
“You okay?”
Kurt smiles a bit and nods. “Christmas holidays are perfect for recreational purposes,” he says vaguely and chuckles.
Blaine wholeheartedly agrees, but he’s still not sure he gets it. He suspects a whole lot of things about Kurt’s life outside of this coffee-flavored bubble they’ve somehow created here, but Kurt doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t talk a lot in general, Blaine has noticed. He seems content with sitting back and letting Blaine do the talking, something Blaine doesn’t mind, because he’s kind of a pro at filling the silences.
“I’m going to perform at the Christmas Spectacular,” he tells Kurt and watches Kurt’s sharp angles soften with something he can’t identify. “I don’t feel ready at all.”
Reassurance settles comfortably heavily on his shoulders at Kurt’s smile. “I’m sure you’ll be spectacular.”
Blaine grins. He likes this mellow Kurt. Mellower, at least. “Any chance you’ll come watch?”
Kurt’s smile holds this time, and it’s bright. “Perhaps,” he says and sounds rather smug. “You’ll find that my company is in high demand.”
“Then bring a friend and make an evening out of it,” Blaine coaxes, and he doesn’t even care that it might be borderline begging. If it can, even if just for a moment, remove the tinge of sadness that never quite seems to leave Kurt’s eyes completely, then Blaine will consider it a roaring success.
Kurt is sweet and shy when he looks down. “I might just do that.”
*
The halls of McKinley are empty with Christmas.
At Dalton, the dorms are closed.
At a Christmas show, a boy sits in the audience with a girl and smiles wistfully.
*
In January, December feels like it flew by at the speed of light.
Blaine likes the bustle of Dalton classes and Warblers’ rehearsals that settle in again after Christmas, and he feels the weight of Regionals coming up, even if it’s still months away. Wes never lets an opportunity fly past for reminding everyone to be on top of their game.
Blaine wants to tell Kurt these things, but he stops short, because. Because. Kurt is tightlipped with everything that could even relate vaguely to New Directions, and fine, Blaine can do the same.
It’s still annoying that Kurt doesn’t talk. Blaine knows he sings, but he hasn’t really heard him sing, not the same way that Kurt has heard him sing. Blaine doesn’t think it’s entirely fair. He has only ever seen Kurt perform, because his voice had been a part of the choir of harmonies at Sectionals, not easily discernable.
The next time Blaine sees Kurt, Kurt is even more tacit than usual, and Blaine feels worry coil tightly on his skin.
“Kurt, is everything alright?”
Kurt slides into his seat opposite of Blaine and nods once, curtly. And then he sighs and smiles, as if to say, what can you do? “McKinley is just being its ridiculous self. Long story short, the football team is joining New Directions for the week.”
Blaine already knows the answer. “That’s a bad thing?”
“You could say that,” Kurt admits, for once. “I’m not really… on speaking terms with most of the football team. Only the guys who are also in Glee club, really.”
“And that’s Finn?”
Kurt looks equal parts astounded, surprised and also a bit delighted to find that Blaine remembers details like these. To be honest, though, it’s one of the only names Kurt has dropped, besides Mercedes, who comes up rather often in Kurt’s stories (and had come with Kurt to watch him perform at Christmas), and Blaine doesn’t think that she’s on the football team, and really, he’s not thinking that to be chauvinistic.
“Yeah,” he says, but then his enthusiasm dims. “Anyway. I think I’ll take some time out from Glee club this week.”
Blaine really doesn’t like the sound of that, so he tries with all he has. “Does that mean you’ll join me for coffee one more time this week?”
Kurt seems to not know how to take this, but he settles for a smile in the end. “It could mean that.”
Blaine is almost reassured.
*
Kurt crushes easily, but this time he holds himself tightly leashed. Liking someone never, never, works out in his favor, and he’s not about to get burned one more time. He feels so good about this somewhat odd friendship he has built with Blaine with a little help from coffee, and he’s not going to ruin it. Besides, he’s so good at being friends with someone he likes.
He knows that he’s notoriously tight-lipped around Blaine, but he doesn’t want to come off too strong, revealing too much about his life that nowadays seem to be such a mess that the thought alone makes him breathless. Blaine is comfortable to be around, and it’s getting more and more difficult to keep his silence.
And it’s just so hard when the place he normally lets go – as much as he ever does – is currently populated by the very boy who makes his school days terror personified, and Kurt has yet to even step into the room when he knows Karofsky is there. He just can’t.
The worst part is that everyone knows, but they can’t do anything.
And Kurt doesn’t want to make a bigger scene than he already has – his perimeter of bodyguards is well-meant and reassuring, but ultimately so frustrating that Kurt takes every chance he gets to grab fresh air to avoid being suffocated slowly, but surely.
Still, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
At some point or another, Blaine will either get pissed that Kurt never tells him anything that isn’t musicals or food or teachers, or he’ll run screaming when he discovers just how chaotic everything about Kurt is. At one point, Kurt knows he’ll have to say something, but the thing is that he likes Blaine, likes this thing they have going.
He likes it. He likes it too much to screw it up with words or feelings.
But maybe, just maybe, he can show Blaine something, so he keeps himself tightly controlled when he asks Blaine if he wants to come watch the Glee club slash football team collaboration. He’s not entirely comfortable with the way his breath hitches when Blaine lights up and says “Of course,” but it’s a small price to pay.
*
Blaine is surprised, very pleasantly so, and he suspects he makes a bit of a fool of himself when he accepts Kurt’s hesitant offer of going to a football game at McKinley. He doesn’t know what prompted the invitation, but he’s definitely not complaining. He thinks his smile might have blinded all the other patrons in the coffee shop, but it doesn’t matter in that instant.
He’s not complaining, but he spends ten minutes in his car outside of Kurt’s house, because really. It’s the first time he’s been here, it’s the first time he’s been wandering into Kurt’s turf, and he feels more than a little unprepared. Especially when Kurt steps out, followed by a man and a woman, who Blaine guesses to be his dad and step mom. Blaine steps out of the car and leans briefly against the closed door, and he watches as Kurt brightens and greets him.
He sits in the backseat with Kurt and they don’t really talk, but Kurt is jittery and nervous and not in an entirely good way. Blaine smothers the urge to reach out, just to give a calming touch.
He’s not blind. Kurt is stunning. He’s witty and clever and so, so stunning, but he’s also really heartbreaking, and Blaine doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do, anything at all, that will help, because Kurt deflects any attempt as if he’s made of teflon.
Still, he can’t possibly convince himself that he imagined the way Kurt stiffens entirely when they set foot on McKinley grounds, and before the thought even registers properly, he has reached out and is resting a hand on Kurt’s arm, hoping that somehow, it’ll give him strength to face whatever it is he’s afraid of.
Blaine isn’t an idiot. He can name a thousand reasons as to why Kurt doesn’t want to talk about his school life, because Blaine has been there himself. He just doesn’t want to assume. However, the subtle and blink-and-miss-it tremor that lingers subtly around Kurt is enough to make Blaine realize, with a sinking feeling of already-known but not yet acknowledged horror, that Kurt really doesn’t want to be here.
He watches Kurt cheer for his step brother and cheer for the bravery of those girls from Glee club, and Blaine, in that moment, looks closer and sees courage lining every single fiber of Kurt.
But still, he keeps his hand subtly near Kurt’s elbow every time he looks like he’s on the verge of falling apart, and he prays to whatever deities listening, that somehow, it’ll be enough to keep the courage alive.
*
On the stadium of McKinley, one boy watches the game and the other boy just watches.
*
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I wish Blaine wasn't too afraid to scare off Kurt, and would just tell him about the time he was bullied at his old school. If Kurt realized Blaine knows what it's like, I feel he would open up even more. Blaineeeeee... COURAGE! :D
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