Title: What dreams are made of
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (minor references Blaine/Sebastian)
Genre: college!au, romance, fluff
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter
Word count: 3493 words for this chapter
Notes: written for lsklainegleek who requested a fluffly college!au. Sorry if it took me a while to update! There are both Blaine’s and Kurt’s POVs in this chapter. As for the texts the ones written in italics are from Kurt and the ones written in bold are from Blaine :) I hope all the fluff will help my fellow klainers in this difficult moment <3
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters (if I did there would be so many more klaine scenes!)
Blaine woke up as his alarm clock dismantled the dreams he had been having. For a while he remained there, staring at the ceiling, remembering the previous afternoon, the way the gray light had caressed Kurt’s beautiful face, the musicality of his voice, the uncertainty that had laced his words when they were talking about music and old dreams.
He had never been good when it came to romance if the failed attempt to serenade a GAP’s manager whom he had a crush for or his failed attempt to build a relationship with Sebastian, when he wanted nothing more than a toy to play with, were anything to go by. But when he looked at Kurt, beautiful and frail and so strong at the same time, something that had never completely gone off inside of him flicked back to life, the flame of romance that made him start fantasizing about sweet and lovely boyfriends when he was thirteen years old and figured out that he wanted a prince and not a princess.
It probably was stupid to feel this way and think such things, because life had proved to Blaine more than once that it worked differently from what they wrote in books and put into movies. Life was made by parents who didn’t know how to behave around their own son, by bullies that cracked your bones under their shoes simply because you were different. But then again life was also music, living in New York and meeting Kurt.
Life could be built upon dreams that come true. Despite all he had already been through at the age of nineteen, Blaine had always believed in that and always would, because it was a precious thought to hold on to when the sea was too wild and the darkness too deep. He had noticed the way Kurt had reacted to the mention of childhood dreams and he wondered if maybe Kurt felt lost without a light to guide him. Blaine foolishly hoped that he could become that light one day.
If there was a new spring to his pace and everything seemed slightly brighter as he made his way towards campus, Blaine knew perfectly well the reason behind it.
Kurt was easy to spot, sitting on a bench in the cafeteria, a sketchbook perched on his knees. He was probably drawing something, his tongue poking out from between his teeth and a surge of heat sloshed around inside Blaine’s stomach at the sight. He was sure he had never met someone as naturally sexy as Kurt; everything from his milky wrists barely visible under the cuffs of his shirt to his perfectly styled hair screamed beauty and it was almost overwhelming.
Nervousness slowly crept over him, what if he had misjudged Kurt’s interest the previous day because he was too eager to get his attention, to get to be close to him? He might make a fool of himself walking over and simply sitting down as though he had some kind of right to do it. He was almost about to turn around and walk out of the room when he remembered the small shy smiles Kurt had directed at him, the brightness in his eyes when Blaine had asked him his number. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders despite the butterflies going crazy in his stomach and started walking.
Kurt lifted his gaze from his notebook when Blaine stopped in front of him; it felt as though someone had pinned him to the spot, the green and azure hues of Kurt’s eyes almost mesmerizing.
Kurt’s voice was slightly breathless and to realize that maybe he was the reason for it sent Blaine’s heart stuttering helplessly against his ribcage.
“Hi. Busy creating?”
Kurt shrugged and closed his notebook, scooting backwards on the bench to leave him place to sit; Blaine felt insanely happy and grateful for it.
“Nothing much, just a couple of sketches.”
Blaine found himself hoping that one day Kurt would trust him enough to show him his work; maybe he would be lucky enough to be the one Kurt would come to for advices. He’d love to be that for Kurt, to be a constant in his life, to support him and kiss everything better when the world tipped around the wrong way.
Clearing his throat he took a seat on the bench and smiled nervously, mentally berating himself because he hadn’t given more thought about the way to proceed from there.
Kurt’s smile was genuine and something relaxed inside of Blaine.
“You like it? I guess I’ve been obsessed with bowties since I understood what they were.”
“Being obsessed with fashion is always good.”
“It is and I have always worn my bowties with pride even when they teased me mercilessly for that.”
Kurt’s smile was thin and Blaine wondered if once again he had hit the wrong key; he should have known better, leaving certain memories behind wasn’t always easy and the scars remained anyway. His scars were there every morning, white and wide right under his ribs, but where were Kurt’s? How deep did they run? He really should have known better. For a while Kurt remained silent, the sounds of the cafeteria engulfing them, clinking of cups and voices talking and laughing. Blaine wanted to reach out, to take Kurt’s hand and brush his thumb over those pearly-white knuckles, but he couldn’t; he adjusted his glasses on his nose to give himself something to do before speaking again.
“I am sorry; it seems I always manage to say the wrong thing.”
Kurt shook his head, eyes wide and so clear that they seemed made of glass.
“No, it’s just…I thought I had put some things behind my back now that I’m here, but it seems I haven’t.”
Blaine took him in, his shoulders slightly hunched, his lips set in a thin line; he didn’t want to be the one responsible for that look on Kurt’s face. He knew they didn’t know each other, except for their names and for a couple of silly music-related anecdotes; they shouldn’t have been here, standing on tiptoes on the verge of a possible discussion about wounds and broken hearts, a discussion that Blaine had never had with anyone else before. And yet there they were and Blaine had to do something about it, had to find the courage because things like this didn’t happen every day, people like Kurt didn’t happen every day.
“D-do you want to go for a walk or something?”
He held his breath as Kurt worried his lower lip and let his gaze travel around the noisy space. When he finally nodded, Blaine’s heart thumped happily. Waiting for Kurt to collect his belonging he had to remind to himself that this was nothing much, just maybe the beginning of a friendship, and no matter how beautiful Kurt was, no matter how faster his blood rushed when he was close, that would have to be enough.
They walked in silence, shoulders brushing as they navigated through the busy streets. Words piled up high in Blaine’s throat, his fingertips tingling with the need to do something to fix whatever was preventing Kurt from being completely free to build something new for himself.
When they finally sat down on a bench in Washington Square Kurt surprised him by being the first one to speak.
“I wasn’t expecting this.”
Blaine looked at Kurt who kept his eyes focused on the fountain in front of them.
“What part weren’t you expecting?”
“The part where I meet you, we don’t even know each other and yet you want to know about me.”
Guilt unfurls cold in Blaine’s stomach; he shouldn’t have pushed so much, he knows and yet there was no way he could help it.
“I am sorry.”
Kurt turned, then, a small smile on his lips.
“You shouldn’t be sorry, Blaine. It’s just…I wasn’t expecting it, I…I have never had someone who asked me to talk, really talk.”
Blaine nodded, because he knew the feeling; back at Dalton the Warblers were his friends but there were certain things Blaine had never felt like sharing and no one asked for him to unlock the door he had closed and locked after that night at the Sadie Hawkins dance. There were things that he felt they couldn’t understand, not because they didn’t care about him but because they hadn’t lived them.
“I know. It was the same for me, except maybe I was the one who didn’t want to talk about them.”
Kurt tilted his head to the side, his eyes attentive and glinting slightly in the afternoon light.
“You seem so at ease with your past, though.”
It had taken time and a lot of patience, to dig underneath the debris of disapproving glances and aching bones, but Blaine had always known he had to make it; he owed himself that, a second chance, not giving the possibility to those who had hurt him to keep doing it throughout his life. He wanted happiness, he wanted music and freedom to be himself so he had taken them. His hands were still covered in the scars he had acquired trying but each of them was worth it.
“It isn’t that I am at ease with it; more like I decided it didn’t matter enough to prevent me from living all the rest, if that makes sense.”
He shook his head, wishing he was better with words.
“It does make sense.”
Blaine lowered his gaze on Kurt’s hand, resting on the bench between them, and allowed himself to cover it with his own. It was soft and warm, just like he had imagined it.
“Look, Kurt. You might not see it but you’re already there. You are in New York, you’re studying something you love, you have the world in your hands, waiting for you to shape it.”
Kurt shifted on the bench but didn’t pull his hand away.
“It’s just that sometimes I think certain things will always remain inside me and…”
“Oh, they will, but you’ve got to use them to become better and stronger, not to let them drag you down when you’re supposed to soar.”
Kurt’s eyes were looking straight at him, serious and deep like twin blue seas.
“Thank you, Blaine.”
Something lifted inside of him, floating light at the thought that maybe he had managed to do something for Kurt.
“No need to thank me, Kurt.”
They kept looking at each other until Kurt’s cheeks started to color and Blaine felt his own getting hotter. He quickly removed his hand and cleared his throat.
“Want to go for a coffee? Also you’ve to tell me how comes that you’re so good with words when you’re supposed to write music.”
“Sure! And, well, I’ve to admit I’ve always had a weak point for those small poems they print on chocolate’s wrappers!”
Kurt’s laugh rang perfect and clear and slipped easily in the small space under Blaine’s heart where he kept the biggest dreams, nestling as if it was there to stay.
I just wanted to thank you again for today; it meant a lot to me.
Again, you don’t need to thank me and I know we don’t really know each other yet, but I am always here, you know?
Blaine hid his face against the pillow, hoping that the fact that Kurt was taking time to reply didn’t mean he had embarrassed him.
Weird as it may sound I actually feel like I already know you.
Blaine grinned, his stomach assaulted by butterflies. He had never felt like this before, light and humming with warm energy; it was one of the best sensations ever.
Same for me. Maybe we’re both crazy or maybe we’ve already met in a parallel world or something.
Okay, you definitely are the crazy one here!
Just so you know I might get offended but I won’t; only because it’s you, though.
Oh, I feel honored!
Good, you should :P
Blaine stared at his phone’s screen; was Kurt flirting with him? It was almost surreal, to think that someone like Kurt, beautiful and talented and sweet, could be interested in him. He certainly couldn’t deny the sparks that every text ignited inside of him or the desire to spend more and more time with Kurt.
Also, tell me if I am too pushy, but would you like to have lunch together tomorrow?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax; it was just a small invite to lunch, right? He wished he was better at this, but all of it, from the trembling in his heart to the playful texts was unknown territory. With Sebastian there had been none of it and it made him angry because now he knew he shouldn’t have given up so much hoping to catch something more than lust in Sebastian’s eyes. He shook his head forcefully; it didn’t matter now, what mattered was the present and the fact that no one could rob him of the chance to be happy with Kurt.
I’d love to.
Great! I’ll see you tomorrow at the cafeteria, then J
See you tomorrow, Blaine. Good night x
Good night, Kurt x
He fell asleep with that small “x” shining against his closed eyelids.
Kurt slipped into this new life with Blaine in it easily; somehow it was like going back home, back to a place where he belonged. Without realizing it, since his arrival in New York, he had shielded himself, maybe it was out of habit or maybe out of fear because he was too used to people not liking him, judging him. Sure, he would never change who he was, he had fought too hard to end up like that, but that didn’t mean judgment was easier to deal with. Doing so, though, he had held in part of the passion that had brought him in the city of his dreams; only a small rivulet of it had kept fueling his new-found dreams, and they needed more than that, he needed more than that.
Then Blaine had come, with his soft words of encouragement and those incredibly contagious smiles, with his habit to take him by the hand when the streets were too crowded or he was too excited and wanted show him something. All of it was new to Kurt, the happiness that filled him when he heard Blaine laughing, the warm tingling that made him tremble from head to toe every time that Blaine leant too close when they were watching some musical together or when they stood on a packed underground train. It was like a low hum, spreading through his body, igniting his nerves.
It was like taking a step out of a garden and realize that the world was waiting for him.
He should have realized it since the beginning, since Blaine lifted his gaze from that book in the café and the mere sight of his eyes had sent his stomach fluttering, but he hadn’t. The moment Kurt realized fully that there was no way he could look at Blaine only as a friend was on a night in late November. They were sitting on the roof of Blaine’s building, huddled under woolen blankets and drinking hot spicy wine they had prepared.
Blaine was talking about a story he had dreamed of writing when he was still in high school. It was about a boy who lived on the edge of the unknown, all alone, with no one to answer his questions, to sing him to sleep or to kiss him. One day, tired of the loneliness, the boy took a step into the unknown and then another and another, until he felt someone take his hand. For the whole story he never saw who the person was, but he could hear a voice, singing softly to him and answering all the questions that before had been left unanswered.
“Did this person kiss the boy too?”
Kurt looked at Blaine as he tipped his head backwards and stared at the sky stretching black above their heads.
“I like to think so.”
When Blaine turned towards him he was wearing the most tender, beautiful smile Kurt had ever seen. And in that moment, with the scent of cinnamon twirling around them, he understood that what he had begun to feel for Blaine simply couldn’t be confined in a box labeled “friendship”.
He wanted to be the one to take Blaine’s hand, answer his questions and kiss him, until the end of time.
Blaine realized he had to something because otherwise his heart was going to crack at the seams for how big what he felt was on a Thursday morning in December, right before Christmas break. Kurt had been so stressed during the previous week because of exams and projects to hand in and Blaine had wished he knew what to do to cheer him up, to help him out. In the end he had simply opted for being around the more that he could, knocking on Kurt’s door almost every night, a movie in one hand and sometimes takeaway in the other.
The day of Kurt’s last exam, Blaine was standing on the pavement right outside Tisch’s entrance, clutching a bouquet of yellow roses as though it was a lifeline. He had spent at least half an hour at the florist, looking at all those flowers and feeling so lost that the shop owner had taken pity of him and asked if he needed help. Blushing he had said that he needed something for someone special. The woman had looked at him with a raised brow. “I guess it’s for someone who’s more than a friend?” Blaine had looked at her and a small smile had titled his lips, “Yes, definitely.”
When the doors opened and Kurt steeped out, Blaine’s heart went completely crazy and all the words got lost somewhere, swept away by the wave of anxiety and longing that sloshed through him.
He swallowed around the lump in his throat and held out the bouquet for Kurt to take it.
“These are for you.”
Kurt blinked, cheeks red and eyes wide.
“Because you worked so hard and to remember that you’re amazing, Kurt.”
Blaine desperately hoped that this was alright, that Kurt didn’t think it was too much. Then, Kurt’s arms were around him and he found himself pressed against him, the sweet scent of his cologne making his whole body thrum.
Kurt’s voice was trembling slightly when he spoke.
“Thank you, Blaine. You were the amazing one, always being there for me. I…no one has ever done something like that for me.”
With trembling arms Blaine hugged him back, and all he could think was that he loved this boy, completely and without possibility to turn back.
Blaine spent the whole Sunday sitting cross-legged on the floor in his room, guitar in hand and crumpled music sheets blossoming like flowers around him.
He had been composing music, thinking about notes and songs, since he could remember; back when he had been a kid, trying to figure himself out not having anyone to talk to, that had been the easiest way. Pouring everything into small songs that he would sing to himself under the shower, before going to bed at night or as he dressed for school in the morning. His grandmother used to tell him that music was a part of him, like it had been for his grandfather. She had been the only one to hug him when he had announced he had become the Warbler’s lead soloist.
Closing his eyes he let his mind free to reach out for the small memories of Kurt he had made through the past months- Kurt looking in awe at a shop’s window, Kurt with his nose white because of cappuccino foam, Kurt laughing, Kurt twirling as snow fell over Central Park, Kurt sitting on his bed crying as they watched Moulin Rouge, Kurt drawing at his desk, Kurt hugging him.
With every single image something inside of Blaine dilated, growing bigger and bigger, surging like a wave. His fingers moved easily on the chords, his love for Kurt making every note clear and sharper. He played and played until the night fell outside and he was satisfied with what he had created. Now he had to be brave and sing it to Kurt, because there was no way he could express how he felt with words, he needed music to do it for him.
I know you are flying back home early on Tuesday, but do you we could meet tomorrow evening?
Of course! I wouldn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to you x
Blaine cradled his mobile closer to his chest- Please, never say goodbye to me.