Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Yadda, yadda, yadda...
This story is in response to this prompt on the glee angst meme by Boys Should Kiss Boys More.
http: / / glee-angst-meme. livejournal. com / 22143 . html ?thread= 13679487
I really wanted to fill this prompt, as a fellow chublet and someone who loves Kurt no matter what. I hope everyone, especially Boys Should Kiss More Boys, enjoys this.
And on another note, the title is from the song "True Love Will Find You in the End" by Daniel Johnston, and covered by Beck and Hey Marseilles (I learned of this song from an awesome Kurtofsky fanmix, so kudos to the person who made that. I can't remember who, though. Sorry!)
True Love Will Find You in the End
It was the late afternoon that cold Saturday in early December. The house was empty save for Kurt who had taken residence in the kitchen. His family had gone out for the day—Finn to Rachel's house and Carole somehow managed to get his dad to tag along with her to the sixty percent off sale at her favorite clothing store. Kurt, however, was waiting for Blaine to arrive as he promised he would.
A whole week came and went since he last saw his boyfriend and this pattern was consistent since his return to the all-boys prep school almost a month ago. As much as Blaine proclaimed his love for him, Kurt couldn't—and didn't—hold Blaine culpable for wanting to go back to Dalton. Kurt remembered how he felt when he switched schools—how much he missed the friends he made during his first year of Glee club. It was for the best. Kurt didn't want Blaine to feel any contempt for him when he ultimately made the decision to attend McKinley. Kurt agreeing with Blaine's decision to transfer back may ultimately diverted their relationship from failure.
And absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?
Despite the ridiculously bitter cold outside, Kurt had to turn the temperature down on the thermostat. The heat of the oven provided enough warmth so that, not only did the delicious aromas of his baking waft through the house, but the warm, cozy heat, as well.
Just as Kurt was checking the progress of his latest creation through the oven door window, a polite knock sounded at the door. With an excited leap of his heart he checked the timer, and then his reflection, on the microwave. Just before running into the living room, he tossed the hand towel that was draped over his shoulder onto the kitchen counter, which was sticky in some places with sugary-dough fingerprints, and hastily fixed his disheveled hair.
Kurt felt his heart swoon as he took in the distorted and stylish figure of his boyfriend through the peephole. Throwing open the door, Kurt didn't waste any time or hide his enthusiasm at Blaine's arrival.
"Blaine!" Kurt cried as he hugged Blaine. Blaine, who Kurt was now squeezing tightly in his embrace, let out an "oomph!" upon impact.
"H-hey, Kurt," Blaine said weakly as he patted Kurt's back. Kurt laughed, not letting the fact it had been seven days since the last time he saw his boyfriend in person overshadow how awkward Blaine's demeanor was.
"Gosh," Kurt chuckled. "You make it sound like I hurt you." From behind them, a faint beep could be heard coming from the kitchen and through the front door that Kurt left ajar. The sound rattled Kurt and his hands shot to his mouth.
"Oh! My cookies! Come on in," Kurt said as he hurried inside. As Kurt turned around he missed the troubled look on Blaine's face and the way his eyes continued to travel down to his midsection.
"Please don't be burnt. Please don't be burnt." Kurt whispered the mantra to himself as he slipped on the oven mitts. As Blaine followed him into the kitchen, he took off his wool jacket and placed it carefully over the back of the kitchen chair.
"Kurt, I really wanted to..." Blaine started to say, but was interrupted by Kurt as he removed the treats from the oven.
"Would you look at these? They're perfect." Kurt practically moaned as he put the baking sheet full of the perfect concentric circles on the stove top.
"Yeah..." Blaine said dismissively as Kurt slipped off the oven mitts. "Look, Kurt I-"
"These..." Kurt began to say as he retrieved couple of plates from the cabinet. "Are double chocolate chip cookies. I saw the recipe online and they looked positively orgasmic. I knew I had to make them. Here, you have to try one before they cool and tell me what you-"
"Kurt! I don't want a cookie, okay!" Blaine burst. "I came here to talk to you."
Kurt regarded the serious look on Blaine's face with wide, confused eyes. Blaine never raised his voice to Kurt. Ever. Blaine sighed, guiltily rubbing a palm against his forehead.
"I... I thought you came here, b-because you miss me. You always come see me on Saturdays." Kurt attempted to smile but failed as his voice broke. "Because after-school Warbler practice used to be on Thursdays when I was at Dalton and we would hang out on Friday evenings but now you said Warbler meetings are on Fridays which is why we can't hang out on Friday evenings like we used to which is why you are here n—Why do you keep looking me like that?" Kurt accused him in a panicked voice. Kurt caught Blaine in the act this time as his dark brown eyes drifted downward.
"Kurt, I'm not looking at you in any particular way," Blaine said rationally. His hands were stretched, palm up, in front of him as if Kurt was some scared puppy he was attempting to placate.
"Then why are you acting like I'm about to blow up at any second?" Kurt asked in frustration. Blaine made his way around the island counter to stand next to Kurt. He brought his hands up along the sides of Kurt's upper arms and rubbed the fabric there in what night have been a soothing fashion-if it wasn't for the fact that he seemed to be trying to keep Kurt an arms length away. Kurt looked pointedly away from Blaine. His eyes were already dangerously red and he was pretty sure he would start crying if he were to make eye contact with Blaine and the overly empathetic look on his face; as if Kurt had already predicted the events that were about to take place.
"You know how much I love you, don't you, Kurt." Kurt finally looked at Blaine when he gave his shoulders a little squeeze. "You know that I care about you more than I ever thought I could care about another person." Kurt sniffed and didn't say anything in response to Blaine. It sounded more like a reminder than a question. Like a daily planner that had some mildly interesting "fact of the week" on the top of the page.
"You're breaking up with me," Kurt said simply. Blaine gaped wordlessly. Kurt nodded in acknowledgement as he gently removed himself from Blaine's grip.
"Kurt, I never meant—"
"Was there any reason behind this decision?"
"This wasn't premeditated, Kurt," Blaine said. Kurt could detect a nervous edge to his tone. He continued in a slow, cautious voice,"I think it's just taken the past couple months for it to click that we—"
"You did it again," Kurt said, his calm demeanor diminishing suddenly as his eyes flashed and his cheeks flushed angrily.
"You keep looking down," Kurt accused him, covering his stomach with his hands protectively. "I'm not blind, Blaine. You keep looking down at… Oh my God." Kurt's eyes widened, hurt.
"Y-you think I'm... Fat." Kurt choked out.
"What? Kurt, what are you talking about, I don't think… That. I don't."
"That's what this is about. Because I've put on some pounds on the past couple of months."
"This isn't healthy, Kurt," Blaine said in a gentle tone, as if the information itself wasn't enough to break Kurt.
"I knew it. Last week, when you didn't even want to… Even though we already…" He couldn't form the words that were flashing like a neon sign in his head. Just last week when Blaine came over, the way Blaine quickly pulled his hand out-much to Kurt's confusion and dismay-from where it sneaked underneath Kurt's shirt. It wasn't as though Kurt and Blaine never had sex before.
Not soon after Blaine detached his lips from his, at that time, he was making up some excuse about some lengthy English paper that he had to turn in by Monday, and he was gone. Everything that had occurred since Blaine's transfer made sense.
Blaine was disgusted by him.
"There are no Friday practices, are there?" Kurt whispered sadly. The echoing stillness of the house was palpable as Blaine held his breath before finally answering Kurt.
"I'm so sorry."
"It's him isn't it?" Kurt asked as a few fat tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. "This… This is just some excuse so that you could be with him. He's the reason you went back."
"Kurt, you have to understand that I would never cheat on you. I love you, Kurt."
"Don't." Kurt held up a hand. "Don't say that to me like you actually give a damn about my feelings. You don't. You've just been hanging out with your good buddy, Sebastion, talking about how much of a hippo your boyfriend is, is that it?"
"Kurt, please." Blaine's thick eyebrows creased miserably as he implored Kurt to hear him out. For somebody doing the breaking up, Kurt couldn't comprehend why Blaine was so upset about it.
"Get out of my house, Blaine," Kurt ordered in a frighteningly calm voice.
"I didn't want it to end like this, Kurt. You're my best fr—What are you doing?" Before Blaine knew what was happening, Kurt had taken the cookies and began chucking them at Blaine, not stopping despite the tears that blinded his vision. Not stopping until Blaine scrambled beyond the kitchen door, completely forgetting about his wool coat that was on the kitchen chair.
Kurt listened past his gasping sobs in order to hear the click of the front door shutting behind his ex's retreating form. Grabbing the loose end of the roll of paper towels on the counter, Kurt pulled on the sheet and tore, taking two squares too many and furiously scrubbed his face free of any evidence of his emotional upheaval as he heard Blaine's Volkswagen start up and pull away from his driveway. Kurt gripped the counter for support and he stared down at his nearly barren baking sheet that he had dropped back down on the counter after his assault by means of dessert. There were three of the sweets left, unharmed, on the pan. Kurt carefully stacked them one on top of the other with one hand before picking up the small tower and retreating from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, leaving the chocolate disaster in his wake.