Rainbow of Anguish, a Glee fiction

I do not own Glee. Please drop a review!

Blaine walks down the hallway with his best friend. The one that he wants as more than a friend, but is currently going on about his boyfriend. He leans in to focus because he realizes he never did learn the bugger's name and tries not to let his vision blur as he keeps walking. Amadeus. His name is Amadeus, and the way his name rolls off Kurt's tongue so effortlessly is so freaking perfect it hurts.

It all started sometime after Valentines Day, though Blaine isn't sure of the exact details. (March ninth at three fifteen post meridiem in the Lima Bean at the window table, having just come from school, exact coordinates and seconds yet to be determined.) He doesn't remember how he looked (aside from the pressed Dalton uniform and half empty mocha latte in his hand.) All he can remember is his lame attempt at a pickup line (because while he believed Kurt was an angel he was too graceful to fall from heaven) and the third chair being pulled up to their table.

Contrary to his name, Amadeus had as much musical talent as a llama at a local petting zoo. He had however, after a series of expensive summer camps, learned to master painting. He invited Kurt to his humble abode to see his Paris collection. Humble abode being a two story house with a four car garage, in ground pool with waterslide, and a butler named Bill that everyone called Jeeves because nobody ever has a butler named Bill.

Kurt grabs a hold onto the crook of my elbow. He gushes on about how Amadeus had spent his summer painting the most beautiful of paintings and how his parents invited him to stay for dinner. They were the type to have maple glazed ham and twice baked potatoes prepared by none other than Jeeves. They even had the tacky little green garnishes that nobody ever eats.

Blaine sings through Warbler practice and acts like it's no big deal when Kurt tells him he's studying French with Amadeus tonight and will call him later. He finishes his homework on his lonesome and brings his dinner (the ever so fancy Hamburger Helper his mom has made) to his room. There he sits cross-legged on his bed and stares at the Disney movie he loaded onto his laptop.

Kurt takes a seat across from him and sets down the sack lunch he brought. He greets him warmly. Blaine swallows to say hello back. He produces a big red apple. Taking a bite, the juice gushes out and trails down his chin. Amadeus moves in to wipe it off with a handkerchief embroidered with his initials. Between bites of his sandwich and his apple they discuss plans for Regionals. The omnipresent pest takes out a package of dental floss and passes it to Kurt. He accepts it with a smile and excuses himself to the bathroom. From there he sends Blaine a sarcastic text message and he wants to laugh, but there's a boy across the table staring a hole in his head.

He tosses and turns in bed all night. He can't erase the image of Amadeus winding an arm around the curve of Kurt's back. The way Kurt tried to subtly wiggle his way out of his hold without disturbing the peace. Part of him wanted to wrench him free. Nothing's official between the two of them, but he's making his presence more known now. He feels like Rajah. Jasmine's orange best friend that defends her from the world around her. He's in the movie and Amadeus is Aladdin, whisking away his princess on her feet. Suddenly he's the backup, demoted by some guy Kurt barely knows. If he had a magic carpet he'd steal him away and sing him cheesy Disney duets and live happily ever after. But this dream is a nightmare and he's just a poor defenseless cat.

Friday night he calls Kurt up. He answers his phone and Blaine hears sloshing of water on the other end. He asks him if he's interrupting something and he informs him that no, he'd been relaxing in a bubble bath when he called. He asks him to hold on for a second and sets the phone down on the counter. Kurt grunts, and he assumes he's pulling on his pajamas. He returns and apologizes. The tub gurgles as the water makes its way down the drain. Then he hears a squeak. Like a rubber duck squeak. Before he can stop himself he's picturing Kurt in the bathtub with a giant yellow rubber ducky. They talk until his father calls from the kitchen. He says goodbye and Blaine falls backwards onto his bed.

He wakes up to the sound of his mom whistling music from the Wizard of Oz. He enters the kitchen and she guiltily smiles, realizing how loud she was. She flips the banana pancake at the end of her spatula. He digs around the cupboard for the box of Corn Flakes. He pours himself a bowl and adds some of the banana his mom has cut up. He knows that the pancakes are for his dad. He's coming home from a business trip and he'll complain all day about airline food if you let him. The front door opens and he sweeps up the plate of pancakes mom has set out. He takes a seat next to Blaine. It's so quiet you can hear the water sizzle as it hits the dirty pan in the sink and the clink of his fork against his plate. He wishes that she'd start singing Courage again and take him to see the Wizard. He'd rather be in that green city, wishing that he'd get a sign, telling him what to do about Kurt. He taps his ankles together to no avail.

When his parents get into the details of his dad's trip he takes his bowl into the living room. He tunes into some Saturday morning cartoons and finds himself laughing at funny little blue men. He finishes watching an episode of the Smurfs and takes his bowl to the sink. By this time his dad has taken his suitcase to his room and his mom is scrubbing his plate clean. Blaine gives her a hug from the side. She kisses his cheek and pulls the bowl from his grasp. He heads to his room to change. He thinks about how when he grows up and has kids of his own how the family will sit down and watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat Cap'n Crunch or whatever sugary cereal is on sale. He tries not to smile when he pictures Kurt lecturing them on healthy eating and cavities. It becomes a lot easier when he remembers Amadeus.

Sunday morning he goes for coffee with Kurt. He stands next to him in line, studying the crease mark forming in his forehead. He can tell something is off, because Kurt hates wrinkles and he doesn't seem in any rush to fix this. He orders both of their drinks while he's not paying attention and foots the bill for it all. They take an open seat in the corner. He reaches for his coffee, and Kurt reaches for his hand. He let himself go thirsty and give him his full attention. He tells Blaine how Amadeus got back together with his ex-boyfriend, and how he shouldn't be upset because they were never official to begin with. He picked Kurt apart, telling him that his music wasn't important and that his scars made him ugly. He told him how it hurt worse than being slammed into a locker or being slushied. Big purple bruises fade. Slushies wash out of your hair. Those words tore him farther apart, and Blaine was left to put the pieces back together.

For some reason unknown to him, the billiards eight ball is considered to have magical powers. He digs around in a box of his old toys and found the black ball buried at the bottom. He takes it out and ponders over what he should ask it. He couldn't ask it the questions he wanted to. Why wasn't Kurt good enough for Amadeus? What does the universe have against the idea of Kurt being loved? Why is it so hard to tell Kurt that he makes him get the butterflies whenever he's within a five foot radius of him? He settles for a simple question. Should I tell Kurt how I feel?

Ask again later.

He waits until a minute passes and asks again.

Reply hazy, try again.

He gives it a third and final shake. It answers noncommittally and he resists the urge to chuck it at the wall.

Monday night before crawling into bed he looks out the window. The moon is shining bright along with the stars. He recites the words he learned so long ago.

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might. Have the wish I wish tonight.

He selects a small white star and gives it his request. It's silent, so nobody can find out what he wished for. They say that if someone finds out what you wish for it won't come true. And this wish has to come true.

Blaine opens the doors to the commons room and scatters a stack of papers over the floor. Kurt sits unamused at the table. He plucks him from his seat and serenades him with a performance of Misery. Kurt bursts his bubble mere minutes later.

Kurt stands at the head of the room, leading the Warblers in a teary eyed rendition of Blackbird. Blaine tries his best to back him up, but he finds himself unable to concentrate. He watches as Kurt takes a step and it finally clicks. He thanks the universe.

Blaine stands at the entrance of the room. He sneaks a look and sees Kurt working. He enters in further and is glad to see he hasn't lost his ability to speak.

Why did you pick me to sing that song with?

He looks him in the eyes and takes a deep breath.

Here goes everything.