A/N: I promised it would be longer! I actually got myself a little stuck because I realized I had to fit two years into one chapter. But this story has always been looking at broad concepts, so I felt like I could get away with it. I also didn't want to rehash what we already knew about Klaine from Glee, so I didn't want to write episodes, but I tried to fit it in as much as I could. I rated this M originally for my potty mouth, also figuring that the violence would bump it up too, though the violence itself is probably at a T rating. I don't write smut, but I wanted to include something physical between our boys. So it's not hardcore M, but I do think I need to keep the M rating. I really hope you enjoyed this story. I wanted to post it before next Tuesday just in case the new episode fucks up my perception of canon. So here is the last part. I really hope you like it. First Glee story complete!
Please review! Last chapter's funny typo was "DArren" instead of "DAvid" because I was thinking about Blaine. This week's funny typo was the continual process of "Lurt-backspacex4-kurt-backspacex4-Kurt"
Fourth Movement: Allegro
Blaine was convinced that being a Warbler saved him. He looked forward to practices and felt like he had a purpose. Although he was back singing series' of do-do-dos, Blaine felt his voice blend in to the music. He was a part of the team in a way he had never been before.
People would wave to him in the halls, give him high-fives in the dining hall. He was invited to dorm parties across the campus, asked to sing randomly. The teachers took him aside to ask when the Warblers would be performing next, but it was always impromptu so he'd just smile mischievously and not say a word. The first time they'd given an impromptu performance, Blaine was too excited to remember that he was supposed to have stage fright. He was pretty sure the toilet didn't miss him. People loved hearing him sing, and he no longer felt judging eyes on him. His stage fright was gone completely.
Since he'd joined the Warblers midway into the second semester, it seemed the year was over all too quickly. He had to return to New York for the summer. But Blaine returned to Dalton for his Junior year with confidence. Wes and David returned with girlfriends. The girls didn't last long, but the change brought about a new phase in their friendship. The three of them were okay talking about whom they liked. For Wes and David, this meant that they talked about sex all the time. Blaine, however, simply made mentions of the things that turned him on. This included scarves, blue eyes, and Neil Patrick Harris.
He'd never had a relationship in his life, so he didn't have much to offer the conversation. Besides, he was pretty sure it would freak his friends out a little if he were to elaborate on how exactly two gay men had sex.
Unless they were closeted, in which case it would turn them on. Either way, it would be awkward.
He'd gotten straight A's, despite the struggles of the previous semester, which gave him the privilege of living in a single room. He made sure to take Wes's advice and lighten his load a bit for the new year, especially since he needed to fit time in for Warbler practices.
The new council had picked Wes as their Junior Representative, the one person who was guaranteed a spot on the following year's council. Blaine and David encouraged Wes to take the position because it gave him a stronger voice in the council and Wes was full of ideas. Though, at the moment his duties as Junior Representative meant a lot of time sitting and watching the verbal jousts that occurred behind the scenes. He didn't have power yet. But he assured them he would be using his power to the best of his abilities the following year, often said with a mischievous grin the size of Antarctica plastered to his face.
Blaine performed well on tests. He sang. He had friends. He was well-liked by the school. He wasn't bullied. He thought it was the best year of his life.
He was wrong, because the following year he discovered Kurt Hummel. It was also the year that he discovered Blaine Anderson.
Wes took his executive power very seriously. David and one other senior joined Wes as council members. Blaine had been nominated to fill a council position, but he'd declined for the sake of his school work. He was honored, but just didn't think he could do it.
They were revolutionary. The first thing the council informed the Warblers was that they were going to compete for the first time in the history of the Warbler's foundation. Traditionally, their a cappella group sang specifically for the school, and sometimes for charities and at local events.
"We're good, guys. We're really good. And I think we actually have a shot at this," Wes said. The Warblers let out a cheer, Blaine included. It was exhilarating to think of them performing for a large crowd, winning at sectionals. It could happen.
Wes was still speaking, "We want to work on building our repertoire. This will be accomplished through an increased number of impromptu performances, a new song every other week and one request from the audience. This way we can figure out the crowd pleasers. We need a lead singer. Remember, lead singer is a position; it doesn't mean all solos will be going to that person. The lead singer is a guide for all Warblers. Yes, he needs to have the vocal prowess for the position, but he also must want the best for everyone else and be available to help others with their solos. He is a mentor first and foremost. That said, we are taking nominations, so please take the time to vote after the meeting. New member auditions will be held tomorrow, as I'm sure you all remember. By next week we will have our full group! Anything else?"
David looked down at the desk in front of him. "No I think you covered everything. I'll take nominations for lead singer as you exit. Have a good day everyone."
Blaine thought David would be a fantastic lead singer. He wrote down his name on the slip of paper he'd been given.
"Blaine? What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"
"Nothing, it's a Friday. I have class until 1:00, though."
"Would you be able to come to auditions with us?"
"I suppose I could. Why do you need me?"
David held up the slips of paper. "You were unanimously picked for lead singer."
"Unanimously?" He felt weak in the knees.
"Well. Not quite. Some idiot voted for me," David said, grinning at Blaine just as broadly as the Cheshire Cat.
Blaine was nervous as hell for his role as lead singer. He'd declined the council offer because of time, so could he handle the duties required with the position? He hadn't even sung a solo in public before, and he'd mentioned this to David.
"We know you can do it," he'd said. "We've heard your voice, Blaine. I don't think you realize just how good you are." David hadn't implied that he could refuse. And it seemed everyone was behind him. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his fellow Warblers. So he accepted the position hesitantly. His first duty was to be present for auditions.
"We don't need you to listen to the auditions," Wes explained. "That's our job. Instead, I want you to mingle in the waiting room with them. Make them feel comfortable. Introduce yourself, get to know them. Meanwhile, we want you to judge how well you'll think they'll fit into the Warblers. It's all about the team. Can you do that?"
"Okay. Here's the sign-up sheet. Keep it organized out there," Wes said. Blaine turned to leave, but Wes hadn't finished. "Oh and Blaine?"
"Congrats. You deserve this."
"He was a really nice guy. I think he'll fit in well. How did he do in the audition?"
"He wasn't the strongest singer. Daniel, though, blew us out of the water."
"Yeah, and he knows it. He was belittling the other applicants the entire time. I wanted to kick him out, but that is, unfortunately, beyond my power."
"That's really unfortunate. We could have used his vocal range. But you're right. We don't need any pretentious assholes on the team. See, I told you you'd be good at this."
"You don't know that, Wes. I haven't soloed yet."
"Soon. Our first impromptu is next week."
He started getting the hang of things by the third impromptu performance. They'd picked out a few key pieces for him to learn and a few songs for other Warblers who wanted some time in the spotlight. He still didn't seem to have the confidence that their previous leads held, but he was working on it. He truly wanted to do well.
Monday morning he got a text message from David: Performance today, 2:30. Teenage Dream –let's seduce them, Warblers! Blaine groaned. "Teenage Dream" was one of his, and they'd only started rehearsing it a week ago.
Five minutes later he got the mass message through DAlerts, the text messaging system that warned them of any emergencies, but the Warblers had permission to send cryptic messages about their performances through the system: 1430. Don't ever look back. It was never the title of the song, but always something to keep them guessing.
Class ended at 2:15 that day. He rushed to join the people making their way to the Senior Commons. It was like a stampede, and Blaine felt the anticipation building in his gut.
"Excuse me!" Blaine turned, seeing the boy standing on the stairwell. He looked confused. "Uh hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm new here." Like hell, not with that jacket. But Blaine decided to play along.
"My name is Blaine." He extended his hand to the boy, felt the electricity run up his arm as Kurt's soft skin rubbed against his calluses.
"So what exactly is going on?" Kurt asked, taking his hand away. I want to touch him again.
"The Warblers! Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school down for awhile."
"So wait; the Glee Club here is kind of cool?"
"The Warblers are like rock stars. Come on, I know a short cut." He grabbed Kurt's hand, leading him away from the stampede and into a separate hall. His heart pounded.
"Oh I stick out like a sore thumb," Kurt said as they entered. Yes. But that's not a bad thing.
"Next time don't forget your jacket, new kid," Blaine said. Please don't listen to me. He loved the way Kurt looked in his jacket. I want to touch him again. Instead he opted for straightening Kurt's collar with a smile and a wink. "You'll fit right in." The Warblers, seeing Blaine enter, started the beginning of the song. He needed to go. "Now if you'll excuse me."
He began singing, turning first to the Warblers, then to the audience watching. They'd practiced the number with a half casual, half choreographed dance with basic steps. He was supposed to address the general room, but no matter how hard he tried not to, he kept coming back to the boy whose blue eyes shone wide with awe. He was beautiful. You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream.
He found out later that his beautiful, blue-eyed boy was just as broken as he had been. For some reason, Blaine felt as if he was getting a second chance.
Don't run, Kurt.
He and Kurt hit it off immediately. He wanted to be there for Kurt, and Kurt seemed to rely on him. It was the first time Blaine felt needed and he liked the feeling. He liked helping someone he cared about.
When Kurt ran to Dalton, Blaine didn't blame him, knowing that Kurt's situation had taken a dangerous turn. At least he'd tried to confront his bullies; it was more than Blaine had ever done. Kurt's decision to transfer was actually the most logical course of action. To be honest, Blaine was excited that he would be seeing the boy more often.
But Kurt still seemed to have a hard time adjusting, especially with the Warblers. No one doubted Kurt's loyalty to the team, but Kurt was having a hard time fitting in with their group dynamic. He would never find his place in Dalton if he couldn't get used to the uniform. Blaine told him so.
"I'm taking you shopping, Blaine. Oh, don't give me that look. I'm not going to dress you like me."
"Kurt, shopping has never really been my thing."
"I know. I've seen your closet. We're getting you a style tomorrow."
"I have a style."
"Yeah, if you count Dalton uniforms, which I don't."
"I have sweatshirts too."
"Yes, and they have the DALTON logo plastered across the front. Seriously, Blaine. What are you going to wear if you ever go on a date?"
"Uh. My blazer?"
"No. Absolutely not. Oh, don't give me that look. We need to get you out of uniform."
"I've worn a uniform all my life, Kurt."
Wining Sectionals – well tying at Sectionals – was the best experience of his life. It had been exhilarating, singing in front of everyone. He felt the eyes on him, and they loved him.
But no. He looked around at his teammates, but couldn't find Kurt. Where was he? Ah – there he was. Talking with New Directions. Kurt hugged Mercedes and caught Blaine watching him. The boy smiled and winked.
Blaine's heart fluttered. It was Kurt that was the best experience of his life.
"Who are you?"
"You know me, Kurt. Are you okay?"
"Just answer the question."
"That's your name. Who are you?"
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Who are you?"
"A Warbler? A student at Dalton? Kurt, I don't understand what you want from me."
"I know you don't. That's the problem. You don't know who you are, Blaine."
Fuck you, Kurt. Blaine had never been confused like this before. Who was he? At his old school he was that fag kid that got beat up. At Dalton he was…the lead singer of the Warblers. He was slightly more in the spotlight, but Kurt was right. He wasn't an individual.
He saw the kind of outfits Kurt wore when he wasn't required to wear the uniform. They made his blood stir. Kurt was so in control with himself; he knew exactly who he was. Kurt was being stifled at Dalton. But at least he's safe. Blaine looked at himself in the mirror, saw the way the Dalton Uniform hugged him, and hated himself.
He would make himself an individual.
Jeremiah had been an experiment, the first time Blaine had lusted after a boy who wasn't Kurt fucking Hummel, his friend. His Friend. He and Jeremiah had gone out for coffees once or twice and Blaine was proud of himself for taking the initiative in his social life for the first time.
And when he messed it up, there was Kurt.
Rachel had also been an experiment. He'd been a little behind on the "questioning himself" phase, but in many ways he had to grow up too quickly, and hadn't had the chance. He'd hurt Kurt. He knew that. But it was Kurt's damn fault in the first place for telling him he didn't know himself. Blaine knew himself. At least he would.
…once he figured out if he was really gay. Because if he wasn't, then his entire life had been for nothing.
So he'd drunkenly kissed the girl, took her out on a date, lost the courage to kiss her again sober, and let her do the honors while he stood in line for a coffee. Yep. 100% gay.
And there was Kurt.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
They'd been dating for two months when Blaine got the letter.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, leaning against the far wall as if it was keeping him from falling over his own weight. In his right hand, he tightly clenched a plain white envelope. There was bold knock on the door to his room, but Blaine couldn't hear it. I'm coming in! But Blaine didn't hear that either.
"Blaine? Look at me, B," David said as he dropped to his knees in front of the boy. Blaine's eyes were blank and unseeing. David was afraid to touch him, knowing from personal experience that it could go poorly. "Someone go get Kurt," he said.
"Kurt's in class right now."
"I don't care, Wes. Just go!" He heard the scuffle of feet as Wes left. "It's gonna' be okay, B." His instinct was to hug Blaine's pain away. He pushed this into the back of his mind, and focused on trying to get through to Blaine, muttering a series of endless comforts.
"Blaine?" Kurt had arrived. David stepped back, allowing Kurt to approach. "Look at me, Blaine." Blaine didn't move. Kurt hesitated, sighed, and then put his hands on the sides of Blaine's face, cupping the pale cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart," Kurt said softly.
Blaine shuddered away from the hands, the blank eyes replaced with wide fear. It broke Kurt's heart. "Can you leave us now, David?" I'll call you, he mouthed. David nodded, left. Blaine's small form continued to shake, the wall's support failing as he started to slide downwards. Kurt pulled him up, keeping him upright with his embrace.
Blaine held out the envelope with a trembling hand. "H-He knows," he breathed.
"Who knows what?" Kurt asked taking the envelope. He glanced at the writing on the front and saw the name at the top of the return address.
"H-He knows where I am. I can't open it."
"Do you want me to do it?"
"Please." Kurt opened the letter, read through it. "It's okay. He's not going to come after you. Do you want me to read it to you?"
Blaine vehemently shook his head. "I can't stand thinking of his words coming out of your mouth." He turned towards the boy who held him and brushed a finger against Kurt's bottom lip. "My heart couldn't handle that. Let me see it."
Kurt nodded, handing the letter to his boyfriend.
i tried to find you at the skool… they said you transferd and woodnt tell me wear you went. I don't blame them. I googled you. Were you aware that your Dalton place links there top students on the main page? I saw your photo + you look great. i know you problydont want to hear from me at all and I don't blame you. But i need to say how sorry I am for what I did. I got 2 yrs but they were the worse 2 yrs of my lif. But I deserved it for how I treeted you and I lernedalot. Im not the same person I was befor +I hate who I was then. i don't exspect you to forgive I needed to say sorry.
Blaine placed the letter down when he was done and buried his face in Kurt's chest, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist. Kurt rubbed his back. It was going to be okay.
"Why don't you go get a shower, love? It'll make you feel better." He thought Kurt might be right; a hot shower to wash away the taint might be just what he needed. "I'll be right here when you get out."
Blaine nodded and left Kurt reading on his bed while he entered the bathroom adjoined to his room. He had his own personal shower – a privilege for his exceptional academic standing. He lathered soap over his body, cleaning himself of the memories, shampooed his hair. He let the hot water pulse over his tense back, loosening the knots that had formed. It did the job, but it wasn't as good as when Kurt gave him massages. Kurt's hands were just made to loosen him up. They were soft, like silk, but firm and strong as they pressed into Blaine's back.
Oh Fuck. He needed Kurt. Now. He turned off the shower so Kurt could hear him from the next room and yelled his name. He came running into the bathroom.
"Kurt. Please," Blaine whimpered.
The fear left Kurt's eyes. He knew what Blaine needed. "I'll be right there. Just let me -" He stripped, stepping into the shower. Kurt looked over Blaine's body where sparkling rivulets ran over his skin, downwards. Beautiful. "Wow, already? I wonder what you were thinking about," Kurt said.
Blaine kissed him and answered him without the use of words.
Later that night Blaine held Kurt in his arms, both snuggled under Blaine's covers with their foreheads touching. The older boy kissed his beautiful, blue-eyed boy with elfin features and soft hands.
"I love that you are so in touch with your individuality. You've helped me find the Blaine Anderson within myself. But I am different than you, Kurt. I need to be a part of something. And soon, I'll graduate and I won't have the Warblers. Then who will I be?"
"Why are you saying this?"
"I want you to ask me again; I have an answer this time."
"Okay. Who are you, Blaine Anderson?"
Blaine gazed lovingly into Kurt's eyes and said, "Yours."