WYM 10 - I'm not goin' nowhere

I know. If there were an award for worst author ever, I would deserve it for leaving this story hanging like this. I'm sorry. I'm not even going to try to make excuses, because I just had a major case of writer's block for this story. I didn't even realize it had been so long since my last update, and when I did realize it I was like, oh, I suck, and I felt really bad :(

Then, I was scared to post it because of the whole smut-purge going on. I've been safe so far, but I feel like posting this will, I dunno, call attention to my porn and get everything deleted. But, you guys deserve this chapter, so I'm taking my chances. If this does get deleted, don't worry, I will find somewhere to continue posting it. Probably LJ, once I have it figured out, or tumblr. Maybe S&C. But I'll post details on my profile when it comes down to it, so yeah, make sure you check there.

Also, sorry for the last scene, I am not totally happy with it but I really wanted to get this chapter out already.


On the stress to hair scale from one to ten, Blaine was at Armageddon. If Wes had thought Blaine's last Kurt-crisis was bad, it was nothing compared to this. He was sitting on the floor of a public bathroom for crying out loud.

"Blaine, buddy… you okay?"

In answer, Blaine groaned and buried his face in his hands, dropping them down to his knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Wes cringed as he sat down beside Blaine, and threw an arm over his friend's shoulders. He hated seeing Blaine—usually so perfectly put together—in an absolute mess like this. It had only happened once before, and now that Wes thought about it, that time was directly Sebastian's fault as well. He knew it was silly, but he couldn't help but think that if he hadn't graduated the year before Sebastian showed up at Dalton, maybe he could have saved Blaine all the hassle the jerk caused him.

"Why am I so stupid?" Blaine demanded, throwing his head back against the wall

"Well, I think you're a pretty smart guy, so I don't really think I can answer that."

"You know what I mean, Wes," Blaine snapped. "Why do I keep fucking this up?" Blurting out a confession of love was exactly opposite of what Kurt needed, and Blaine knew that. Which begged the question: why did he say it?

Like best friends tend to do, Wes followed his line of thought without Blaine having to say a word. "Did you tell him you loved him?" It was just the sort of thing that his romantically-hearted-but-terrible-at-romance friend would do, and he let out an acknowledging hum at Blaine's nod of confirmation. "You, my friend, are under the—lovely, really, but terribly naïve—impression that love truly does conquer all. In a perfect world, when you tell someone you love them, everybody gets to live happily ever after. This is not a perfect world."

"But I do love him. God, I know it's only been two months, and maybe this really is too soon, but I can't help it. I love him."

"I know you do, B. But you probably scared the shit out of him. He seems really… skittish." Sure, he only met the guy for like two minutes, but Blaine told him about the Toothbrush Crisis.

"I knew he wasn't ready. I knew it, but he was slipping away and I didn't know what else to do." He scrubbed his face roughly then clasped his hands around the back of his neck.

"It's not your fault—"

"You're right. It's fucking Sebastian's fault. Is he still here?" Blaine started to get up, he wasn't really sure why, maybe to go hit Sebastian, but Wes pulled him back to the floor.

"Nah, while Kurt was still in here David tore a strip off him and then they left. I have a feeling we might not be welcome back at this establishment anymore. But look, you can't beat yourself up over this. It's not over yet, trust me."

"I hope you're right."

"I always am."


On Friday morning Kurt was awoken by the incessant screeching of his cell phone, the specific annoying ringtone that indicated that his dear sister-in-law was calling. For a half a second he debated throwing it across the room, but he knew that that wouldn't keep her away for long enough. He rolled over with a deep, long-suffering sigh and picked it up.

"What do you want?"

Chipper as ever, Rachel didn't even pause at the hostile tone of his voice. "I was just making sure you were bringing Blaine to our Friday night dinner. I'm making a new casserole, I think you'll both really like it, it's inspired by—"

"Rachel, I don't really care. Blaine probably can't make it today."

"What? Why not? I was so looking forward to seeing him again."

"He's, uh... busy. With work. Big case coming up," Kurt lied easily, thankful that this was just over the phone; otherwise she would be able to tell. But he just wasn't ready to explain to her what had happened, how Blaine had made him feel, and how Kurt was pretty sure that they were no longer together.

He finished up his conversation as quickly as he could—it was Rachel, after all—and lied in bed for a few more minutes, staring at the ceiling, hoping to fall back asleep. He wasn't positive if he had actually broken up with Blaine, but he had been ignoring all of his calls and texts throughout the week. It was just that whenever he was around Blaine, or thinking about Blaine, or talking to Blaine, he couldn't think straight, and he needed to find himself again, figure out what he wanted, before he could talk to him. He missed Blaine, that much was obvious, but at the same time he couldn't forget how Blaine had made him feel. He made him feel dirty, cheap, worthless. He made him feel like it was hardly worth the trouble being in a relationship with him. And the worst part was Kurt believed him.

And then... and then he had to go and say those words. The words that ruined everything. He probably could have forgiven everything else, the hurtful words, the entire argument, but Blaine had to go and ruin everything by saying he loved him. Kurt couldn't go through that again. He fell for it once, and he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't be swayed by supposed 'love' anymore. If there was one thing Kurt learned over the years, it was that nothing hurt more than believing somebody loved you and then being dropped like last season's fashion.

Realizing that there was no way he would get back to sleep, not with his mind stuck on Blaine like it had been all week, Kurt sighed dramatically and rolled out of bed, running frustrated hands through his hair. It wasn't fair. What right did Blaine have to waltz into his life—that he was perfectly happy with, thank you very much—and turn everything upside down. What right did he have to make Kurt realize there was something missing in his life, make him want something more than adoring fans and one night stands. To make him crave the simple domesticity that was their nights in, lounging on Blaine's couch eating a home cooked meal while criticizing bad reality tv.

To go and say those words that Kurt hadn't realized he'd been longing to hear.

Fuck it. Fuck Blaine Anderson and his stupid perfect life that Kurt didn't belong in. He needed to get out, get his mind off everything, and he knew just the person for the job.


"I have to see him again, Wes. I need to go see him."

"Are you sure it's not too soon? It's only been four days."

"I just, I can't take it anymore. He's been ignoring me all week, and I can't just let him slip away from me. I can't." With every text that remained unanswered, every phone call that went straight to voicemail, the guilt and anxiety grew; a heavy, nauseous feeling deep in his stomach. It got to the point where he had thought he was coming down with something, had even booked a doctor's appointment, until Wes assured him that that's what love felt like sometimes, and doesn't it suck.

"Well what are you going to do? How are you going to see him if he won't answer you?"

That set him back a bit, because he didn't even know where Kurt lived. Every time they were together, it was always to Blaine's apartment. He understood that it was one of Kurt's distancing things, that he needed a space that was completely his, a space that nobody could see, a space that probably displayed the real Kurt that he hid from the world, and that Blaine had only just begun to see. Blaine had respected that need, knowing that to push Kurt about it would only distance him further, but now it posed a bit of a problem. How was he going to see Kurt again? There was really only one option. "I'll go to the club."

Wes made his face that told Blaine he thought that was a bad idea. "Didn't he ask you to never go see him at work again?"

"What other choice do I have, Wes? He's left me with no other options. It's that, or crash his family's weekly dinner, and I feel like showing up at his work is the lesser of those two evils." Knowing how private Kurt was, Finn and Rachel probably didn't even know that they were… fighting? Broken up? It drove him crazy that he didn't even know the status of their relationship. If he were to show up in the middle of dinner, Kurt would hate him for having to explain everything to them. "I have to do it."

"Fine," Wes conceded, "but do me a favor. Take the rest of the day off—I'll cover for you—go to the gym and go a few round with the punching bag. You're far too stressed right now."

Thank god for friends that knew him too well. "Thanks, Wes. I'll call you later."

Wes shooed him away, grabbing his jacket from the stand and tossing it at him. "Don't worry about that. Just go get your man."


"Sweet Porcelain, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The Latina sauntered over to Kurt and placed a friendly kiss on his lips. "How's life been treating my favorite gay?"

Kurt smiled—for what seemed like the first time all week—and wrapped his arms around her sequined body. "Complicated."

"Uh oh, Auntie Tana smells a long story here. Guys, I'm done for the day," she shouted to the crew behind her.

A blonde man with a headset came running up to them. "Santana, you can't just leave. Your music video—"

"Can wait. Does it look like I give a shit if it comes out a couple days late?"

"Santana, you don't have to—"

"Shut it, Kurt. You wouldn't have come to see me if it wasn't important. And if it's important to you, it's important to me, and these fuckers can wait."

Despite the tiny smidgen of guilt he felt when he saw the despairing looks of the crew behind her, Kurt was glad that he could count on Santana. He let her lead him out of the building and they walked a couple blocks, chatting about inconsequential things, until she led him into a tiny little café and immediately situated them in a corner booth.

"Okay, spill."

And he did. Maybe he originally wanted to see her to get his mind off Blaine, but she seemed to realize he just needed to get this off his chest. He told her all about Blaine, from the first time they met (It was like I was drawn to him, I'd never really danced for a particular customer before), to the first time he slept over (I don't even understand it myself, he just makes me so comfortable), to the fight (How did he make me feel guilty for doing my job?), and finally ending with those three words (I can't go through that again, San), and how he'd been avoiding Blaine. Santana was listening quietly through most of it, asking the occasional question for clarification, or making the odd statement, and when Kurt finally finished she remained quiet for a couple minutes, chewing thoughtfully on the cheesecake that Kurt had ordered.

Finally, just before Kurt prompted her to say something already, she started speaking. "Hummel, you're an idiot."

Kurt spluttered a little bit on his martini, watching her unashamedly steal another forkful of his cheesecake. "Excuse me? I thought friends were supposed to be supportive."

"This is me being supportive. You obviously like the guy, and you're being an idiot for avoiding him."

"You don't understand, he—"

"You're wrong. I do understand." If there was one thing Santana knew all about, it was being terrified of falling in love. Thank god Britt was as patient as she was pretty. "You fell hard for him, you felt out of control, and it scared the shit outta you, so you grabbed onto the first excuse you could find and high-tailed it outta there." She reached across the table again and Kurt shoved the cheesecake over to her side, suddenly not hungry.

"I won't let him dictate my job—"

"I'mma stop you right there. Has he ever said anything about the dancing?"

"No, but—"

"And is fucking other men part of your job description at the club?"

"It's… well, it's expected of me…"

"Is it? Does the club get a cut of the guys you go home with?" She didn't even bother waiting for his answer, knowing that they didn't. "So do you think the club gives a shit?"

"But I have regular—"

"Are your clients more important than your boyfriend? Scratch that; are your clients more important than your happiness? Because I've never even met the guy and I can tell he makes you happy."

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut again when he realized he had nothing to say. She had a point. "Why didn't you become a lawyer again?"

She shrugged her shoulders and flipped her hair. "Lawyers don't get famous."

The more he thought about what she said, the more it galled him that she might be right. That Blaine might have been right, and he was in the wrong for continuing to hook up with his clients. It wasn't like he needed the money. The only reason he didn't stop was because he was too damn stubborn to allow some guy to dictate what he did and didn't do. But Santana was right, damn her. Was it really worth asserting his independence if it ended up costing him the one thing that actually brought him real happiness? Santana had been silent the whole time, other than ordering them another round of martinis at one point, and when Kurt finally came back into the present she just smirked at him. "I hate you."

"Most people do, Sugar. Nobody likes having their stupidity brought into the light."

"Well there's still the other problem."

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where having somebody in love with you was a problem. Sweetheart, he's not Karofsky."

"I know that."

"I know you do, but I think sometimes you forget." In a rare, sweet gesture, Santana reached across the table and grabbed Kurt's hand, stroking the back comfortingly. "Karofsky's in the past, and I think it's about time you let that go. You can't let one relationship—regardless of how fucked up it was—determine how every other relationship goes."

When Kurt didn't have a response again, he glanced down at his lap. "I'm scared, San."

"I know, hun, believe me. Love is fucking scary business. Just promise me you'll give this guy a fighting chance."

Kurt downed his martini and nodded.


Blaine made it to the club ten minutes before he knew Kurt would be performing his last show and slid into a booth in the far back corner of the room. He didn't want to distract Kurt while he was working, or worse, have Kurt see him and then sneak out the back door before they could talk. He thought about just waiting out in the parking lot, but he couldn't wait that long to see Kurt again now that he was here.

For the first time, as he awaited Kurt's arrival on stage, Blaine took a good look around his surroundings, and wasn't all too pleased with what he saw. There were a few guys that reminded him of himself, the first time he came here; looking nervous and hesitant and like maybe they shouldn't be here. There were a couple groups of young guys and girls, clearly here as one stop of a night out, just enjoying themselves and having a good time. The majority of the crowd, however, the part that made his skin crawl, were men—of all ages, to be sure, but mostly older—with stacks of dollar bills in their hands and empty beer bottles on the tables in front of them. There may be a fine line between checking-out and leering, but these men were unmistakably on the far side of it, their creepy gazes roving over every attractive body in the club. He knew that inevitably those objectifying looks would reach nearly every inch of his Kurt's skin, and the thought made him unreasonably angry.

Luckily—before he could get too worked up—the DJ announced Kurt, and the gorgeous man himself sauntered onto the stage, fully capturing Blaine's attention. The second Kurt walked onto the stage under the dim lighting, though, Blaine could tell that something had changed. From the first time he saw him dance to now was worlds apart. The smile on Kurt's face as he swept over the first few rows of the crowd seemed forced, although he doubted the leering drunks could tell. He remembered that smile being comparable to a Broadway actor's, receiving the adoration of their fans, now it was closer to the smile you put on when thanking your grandmother for the lovely sweater you got for Christmas.

Kurt's moves were still flawless, but the dance was like nothing Blaine had seen him do before. There was something raw and primal in his movement, and Blaine could almost feel the hurt and anger in the sharp way his hips moved. Blaine was certain that he was the cause of those feelings, and it made the guilt bubble up in his chest. He just wanted Kurt to be happy, but it seemed that all he did was ruin the experience of something he once enjoyed doing.

When he was done his routine, Kurt seemed spent, tired as he sashayed off the stage, and Blaine waited patiently for him to reappear. As soon as Kurt emerged from the back room, Blaine slid out of his seat and headed straight for him. Before he could get there, though, another man with long, wavy brown hair approached Kurt from the side, and Blaine seethed as the man smirked at him, obviously knowing they were headed for the same guy. He didn't think he'd be able to handle watching Kurt get picked up by some guy, and yet, he couldn't make himself walk away.

"Hey Jesse," Kurt greeted the stranger as Blaine took a couple steps closer to hear them over the pounding music, still out of Kurt's sight. "Haven't seen you in a while."

The man—Jesse—took a couple steps closer, and Blaine bristled as he ran a hand up Kurt's arm. "Busy couple months on Broadway, but I've missed you and your hot ass, sexy. Come back to my place for a little reunion?"

Blaine's heart dropped into his stomach. He was standing there, watching his boyfriend—was he still his boyfriend?—getting propositioned by another man, but there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way Kurt would take him back if he made a scene, but he still couldn't make himself turn and leave. He didn't even realize his hands were clenched into fists until his nails started biting into his palms as he inevitably watched the man he loved go home with another man.

"Sorry, Jesse, but I don't do that anymore."

Broadway guy cocked his head to the side, his wide smile remaining stoically. "Are you raising your rates again, sweetheart? Because you just have to say that. You know I'll pay anything."

Hope bloomed bright in Blaine's chest as Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm done with that business. For good."

Jesse's eyes flicked up to Blaine, and something must have been showing in his face, because an expression of understanding crossed over the would-be john's face just before his eyes moved back to Kurt. "Special someone?"

"Yeah. At least, I hope so. As long as I didn't screw it up too bad already." Kurt shook his head again and Blaine pictured him rolling his eyes as he grabbed the back of his neck. "Not that you care about that."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, I'm rooting for you. And I don't think you screwed it up just yet." Kurt cocked his head, and Jesse nodded his head in Blaine's direction. "Don't look now, but I think your special someone is here."

Kurt whipped around, his eyes widening dramatically when he saw Blaine standing there. Blaine saw, more than heard, Kurt breathe his name, and took a step closer, closing the distance. Jesse spared one last smile at the couple before walking away.

"Hi," Kurt said softly, biting his lip nervously.


"Nice suit."

"Thanks." Blaine glanced down at himself and smiled shyly. "I wear this suit to impress people."

"Oh? Trying to impress people tonight?"

"Not people. Person. A really special guy."

"Lucky guy."

"Nah, he's not the lucky one."

"I think he would disagree."

"I'm the lucky one. That is, if he'll give me another chance."

"A chance for what?"

"To prove that I'm worthy of him. I screwed up; I made him feel bad about himself, and I let him doubt how I really feel about him."

"How do you feel about him?" Kurt asked quietly.

This was what it came down to. The first time he told Kurt, it hadn't gone over well. But he wasn't going to sugar coat this either; he had to lay it out there, and hope that Kurt could handle it. "I'm desperately in love with him."

Blaine watched Kurt's expression carefully, but it remained frustratingly blank even as Blaine started to sweat from the lack of response. Eventually, a shy smile crept across Kurt's lips.

"I think he'd be stupid to not give you that chance then."