ftother:
“I want to get drunk,” Kurt mutters, staring up at the ceiling. “I want get roaring drunk and break things and then spend the next four to six hours on my knees in front of the toilet.”
Blaine props himself up on an elbow and looks down at Kurt, reaches out to stroke his cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“Really? Cause I still have my fake ID. I could sneak out without your dad noticing and buy you all the alcohol in the world.”
“Oh, honey,” Kurt sighs. “First of all, you really couldn’t, Dad’s probably still up. Secondly, no, I don’t think throwing up my dinner would improve my mood. And finally, get rid of that goddamn ID, it’s just wrong that you still have it.”
“Sorry,” Blaine whispers, lying back down and cuddling up to Kurt’s side, tucking his face into Kurt’s neck.
He presses a kiss to the underside of Kurt’s jaw, listens to his breath rattle out on a heavy, shaky exhale.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Move into a cardboard box with me?”
“Honey, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not going to end up in a cardboard box.”
“What if I do, though?”
“Then I’m sure our cardboard home will be the loveliest cardboard box the world has ever seen. I trust your interior designing skills. Though we could have an entire tent if we ran away with the circus.”
“Can it be a European circus?”
“Of course. A French circus, even. You could be an acrobat. I have no idea what I would do in a circus, though.”
Kurt’s small chuckle turns into another heavy sigh, his breath catching and then coming faster, his shoulder twitching under Blaine’s head.
“I feel so dumb,” he chokes out, squuezing his eyes shut against the tears.
Blaine rolls onto his back and tugs Kurt into his arms. He presses his lips to Kurt’s forehead and squeezes him around the middle, smoothes his hands over Kurt’s heaving back, up to his wide shoulders. Kurt can seem so fragile sometimes, but Blaine knows he’s anything but, and the warm, solid weight of his body is more reassuring than oppressive.
“Shh, you’re wonderful,” Blaine whispers between Kurt’s choked sobs. “It’s okay, you’ll figure it out. I’ll help you. We’ll all help you.”
~
Kurt quiets down gradually, his breathing going back to normal, hot tears cooling sticky on Blaine’s neck. Blaine continues stroking his back, and he’s pretty sure Kurt is already drowsing until Kurt mumbles:
“World’s tallest midget?”
“What’s that?”
“Your circus act. World’s tallest midget?”
“Oh wow, thank you, that’s— that’s a beautiful thing to tell the boyfriend who risked life and limb to sleep over with you tonight,” Blaine says, grinning despite himself.
“My dad asked you if you wanted to stay,” Kurt points out sleepily.
“Sure,” Blaine whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “Harp on the details.”
(via ftother)
