All I've ever known; [Blaine/Fitz]

( H E R E W E G O A G A I N )

//&& i kinda wanna be more than
F R I E N D S

Things were going to be normal again. Blaine straightened his tie with a vigorous, dogged sense of good cheer and ran his hand over his hair, making sure it was completely weighed down. He checked his phone for the seventh time in the past hour to make sure that yes, Kurt did, in fact, want to meet him for coffee; yes, they had, in fact, agreed on today after their Glee rehearsals; and for good measure, he double-checked his outbox to make sure he had, in fact, replied “Yeah, I’d like that.”

(“I like you.” But he didn’t he didn’t. He didn’t have a crush on Kurt anymore…or he was getting there, at least…and it definitely wouldn’t all go to hell the second they were face to face again.)

…It would all go to hell the second they were face to face again. Flushing, he reached up and pulled a photograph from the frame of his mirror. Several Warblers had crowded into the shot together, but he and Kurt were in the center because he’d grabbed Kurt at the last minute (“Come on, you’re one of us, too”), and his arm was flung casually around Kurt’s shoulders and they were all smiling, giddy and delighted because they’d just tied at Sectionals—but it was always Kurt’s smile, startled and pleased and a little self-conscious, that his gaze flitted to, and it was Kurt’s smile that still made his chest warm and tight.

…It had all gone to hell already. He watched his expression drop in disappointment and set the photograph gently on his desk before brushing off the lapels of his blazer. His cellphone went into his jacket pocket and his wallet into his back pocket out of habit, and he’d almost walked out the door before jogging back to his desk for his keys, also according to habit.

He almost literally bumped into Fitz in the lounge, and “Hey, I’m getting coffee with a friend; want to come?” slipped out easily. Being the new kid awkward, especially at a school like Dalton, where most students boarded, which made them dauntingly tight-knit. Only when they’d already reached his car did “I’m getting coffee out in Lima with someone I hope to God I don’t have some sort of impassably awkward unresolved sexual tension with” occur to him as a more responsible way to phrase the invite.

He soothed his conscience by at least asking if Fitz was okay with being spirited away to Lima before he started the engine (he was; in fact Blaine was starting to wonder if there was anything the easygoing teenager wasn’t okay with). The awkwardness between himself and Kurt could be addressed once he’d ascertained how much there actually was.

When he’d finished marveling at Blaine’s ability to drive on the wrong side of the road without crashing (actually even then), Fitz was interesting conversation. Blaine lived in Ohio. It wasn’t every day he met someone from another time zone, let alone another country. It wasn’t just that though. Fitz seemed warm, open, and remarkably laidback—and Blaine had always gravitated toward that in other people. He got the impression that this guy would simply tell him if he was being a nuisance, and it took the edge off his self-consciousness.

Even with Kurt, he’d operated in “scholarship interview” mode for the first few weeks (which wasn’t bad, really; he was still at that stage with some of his friends). After noticing how discouraged Kurt was, how his treatment at McKinley was breaking him from the inside out, he’d needed to help. Negotiating between the protective, supportive aspect of his nature and the part that wanted to call Kurt in the middle of the night and giggle about something absurd he’d seen on the cover of a magazine was difficult—until he realized that being ridiculous would occasionally tempt Kurt to be ridiculous, and that was precious in both senses of the word. Another missed indication of his feelings to add to his mental list. Here we go again; I kinda wanna be more than friends… he hummed under his breath, and he immediately launched into the story of the abandoned warehouse and the beach balls and the unsavory advice of McKinley’s mad cheerleading coach, because Fitz’s good nature was catching, and he was happier than he’d been in a while, and he didn’t need to ruin it by sulking over Kurt. Again.

He pulled into the lot in front of the Lima Bean, noticing Kurt’s car before he checked his texts.

Besides, “sulking over Kurt” wasn’t exactly the best mindset when they were about to enjoy each other’s company in a one-hundred-percent platonic fashion for the first time since he’d dropped Kurt back at his car in Rachel’s driveway.

He locked his own car and smiled at Fitz, a little more restrained than he’d been during the drive. “This is it. It’s not exactly fancy; most places around here aren’t. Well, except for Dalton, but Dalton’s unusual in every way. This coffee is to die for, though. I’m not the only guy who makes the trip out here from Westerville once in a while.” He laughed. I’m just the only one who does it several times a week.

Would Kurt want to talk about…stuff? (Not that Blaine assumed Kurt needed an ulterior motive for spending time with you now that he had a boyfriend. Okay, the small, dejected part of him that had been sulking earlier kind of assumed it.) Politeness was one of his favorite antidotes to nerves, so he made sure to get the door for the other boy as they entered the coffee shop. That gesture was kind of a force of habit, actually. He'd once held the door for four hundred people at a leadership seminar. So if he were to start analyzing himself, which he wouldn't, he needn't conclude he was nervous, right?

"If you're not a coffee person, there's...tea and...baked goods that aren't stale." His conversation skills were sub-par. He was definitely nervous.

Maybe they shouldn’t talk about it anymore. Blaine bit his lip. He certainly wasn’t comfortable discussing his feelings for his friend any further than he already had. He’d already revealed far too much. Still, he couldn’t quell the familiar leap of delight when he saw Kurt. Without bothering to order, he gestured to Fitz to follow and wove quickly between tables until he reached the one where Kurt was seated. “Hey, you.”

He beamed down at Kurt before realizing he maybe shouldn’t stare at him like something wondrous had happened every time their eyes met. He’d have to be more careful about allowing his emotions to play across his face—not sadness so much; he was good at concealing pain—but joy, too. A weird idea…he was accustomed to letting it show when he was happy. And he was happy when Kurt smiled. Inexcusably happy. His face fell for a second as he dropped his eyes.

How would they have greeted each other two weeks ago? A brief hug? That had to be out of the question now. He realized his own disappointment with a twinge of dread that strengthened his resolve. He’d make it out of the question. He settled for a light touch on Kurt’s arm that was quickly retracted.

“Fitz, this is Kurt.” Knowing he should add something else, he paused for an instant, considering. “My best friend.” He met Kurt’s eyes as he said the words, smile expanding slightly, involuntarily. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever referred to their relationship that way (and it wasn’t like it was a big deal, like it was seventh grade, where that was the most sacred endearment one person could bestow on another), but it was true. Kurt was his best friend.

Besides “my very close friend I’m completely taken with who also cares about me (but unfortunately not like that)” was a bit much for a first introduction.

“Kurt, Fitz. He’s new—new to the country actually—so I thought he’d appreciate a decent cup of American coffee that’s not from the machine at Dalton.” He wrinkled his nose slightly. Not that the school’s coffee was bad—well, very—but driving out to the Lima Bean once in a while was definitely worth it. Kurt and excellent coffee were great motivators when his gas bill started to get him down. It was probably wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to truncate his mental list of pros merely to “excellent coffee.”

Was it weird that he’d brought a friend? Kurt occasionally showed up with Mercedes or Santana or Rachel, so it couldn’t be weird, could it? He pulled out a chair for Fitz in another fit of anxiety-induced good manners before sitting down himself. “So, what’s new? Not still hung-over, are you?” He smiled teasingly across the table, propping his chin on his hand.