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Kurt did not question him when Blaine asked to go for a drive. Kurt doesn’t like surprises, he never has, but Blaine knows exactly how to make him say yes. A charming smile paired with the innocent sparkle in his eyes would make Kurt follow him to the ends of the earth.
Lima, Ohio is the same as he left it. The same folks live in the same houses. The same teachers roam the halls of McKinley High School. His dad names kids from his high school class graduated at Ohio State, or the University of Northwestern Ohio. From the sounds of it, Kurt was one of the few to escape the Buckeye State.
He knows Blaine’s graduating class is different. The students of Dalton Academy are made for greatness. From what the Andersons have said, most their former colleagues are at Ivy League schools (save for the one student who willingly went to Cleveland). Westerville is shy of two hours away from Lima, but it feels like another world. It is more crowded, with less familiarity and more rotation. Aside from those at Dalton, Kurt doesn’t think he’s seen the same person twice in the city.
It didn’t take Kurt long to figure out their destination. He looked over at Blaine as he turned onto I-270. Blaine kept his eyes forward but had a small smile on his face. Kurt refrained from commenting, instead turning to stare at the unimpressive scenery. The drive from Lima to Westerville has always been long and boring, but at least he has good company now.
With a frown, Kurt tried to think of the last time he’d had to drive to Westerville. Blaine’s parents moved to London right after their son’s graduation. None of Blaine’s Dalton friends stayed in the area. Wes and David were still right by Blaine’s side (coincidentally, they went to the same university, then settled down in the same general area. Kurt just rolled his eyes and claimed they were cut from the same cloth). Jeff went to Houston, Nick to LA. Blaine fell out of contact with everyone else, though Kurt is still friends with some of the other guys on Facebook. Somehow, Thad kept “overlooking” the fact Kurt was still part of the Warbler group, though he transferred back to McKinley for his senior year.
Kurt knows more about the Dalton group than his own classmates. He didn’t like high school. He would never wish to go back. Unlike Blaine, his fond memories are few and far between. He still talks with Mercedes, who is thriving in New York. He ran into Mike not too far back, who was happily married to a tall and handsome man. Rachel Berry had reached out once or twice, if only to commission a Hummel original.
Yes, Kurt was doing well for himself in the fashion industry. After graduating from the Parsons School of Design, he received an entry position with Dior. He worked his way up through the ranks, but ultimately decided to go his own way. He began to work independently, and with the help of the likes of Mercedes Jones and Rachel Berry, made a name for himself. He wasn’t Armani, not yet, but Kurt Hummel was quickly becoming a recognised name on the red carpet.
The paths he and Blaine took weren’t what they’d planned. While Kurt studied fashion, Blaine studied pre-law. After graduating with their undergrads, while Kurt worked up at Dior, Blaine busted his ass through law school. The week after graduation, Blaine and Wes threw all their old LSAT and useless notes into a pit and lit it on fire. The rest of his notes went on a bookshelf in their apartment. Kurt has not seen Blaine touch them once since putting them there.
In his thoughts, it dawned on Kurt that it had been seven years since he’d graduated. The time hadn’t flown by, but it didn’t feel that long. Was that the last time he’d been to Westerville? No, wait… Blaine graduated a year before he had.
“It’s been eight years since we’ve been to Westerville?” He asked, turning to his boyfriend.
Blaine cocked his head, staying quiet as he thought back. “That… sounds about right. Wow, yeah. The last time we were this way was to help move.” He turned to him for a second, slightly alarmed. “Are we that old?”
“Excuse you, Mr. Anderson. I would hardly call twenty-six old.”
Blaine laughed, “I’m sorry, are we that… mature?”
“Better, Blaine Warbler. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Hazel eyes glanced over to him once more. “I won’t argue about the ‘lucky’ part.”
His stomach still flips when Blaine says stuff like that. It makes him feel like a dumb teenager again.
Dalton is closed for the summer, but somehow Blaine still knows how to get into the building. Kurt would scold him if he weren’t so curious to see the school himself.
When they stepped in, Kurt stopped. He was suddenly sixteen again; a boy launched into an unfamiliar world of blazers and rock stars. He could hear the meaningless chatter of hundreds of boys his age. He remembered Nick teaching him calculus in the library and David walking out of French class. As he and Blaine walked through the halls, he thought about late-night study sessions and debates of red and blue versus blue and red.
They passed one classroom, and Kurt had to laugh. When Blaine asked what was funny, Kurt pointed to a nick in the doorframe. “There was a day you were sick,” he explained, “and Jeff bet Thad that he couldn’t throw a football from there-“ he pointed to a classroom opposite the staircase, “-into here. Well, Thad threw the football, it bounced off the frame, and ended up breaking a pot on Ms. Danyel’s desk. We spent the entire night trying to fix the pot. The glue held for a year, but I guess it broke when another kid tapped it.”
Blaine shook his head and started towards the stairs. “You guys got into the weirdest of trouble.”
“I was not part of that! It was always you and your flock. I was the innocent bystander.”
“What about when Mr. Andalha found his notebook in the freezer?”
“You know he had it out for me, Blaine!” Kurt shouted after him, “If he hadn’t dress coded me for wearing a red on blue versus blue on red tie, we would have been fine.”
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Blaine turned.
Oh.
Kurt stayed on the step four from the bottom. He swallowed, suddenly remembering the boy with the gelled hair and the kind eyes. The boy who reached out his hand and led him into the rest of his life. The boy who would become the man Kurt would love for the rest of his life.
“Uh, can I ask you a question?” Kurt asked.
Blaine smiled softly, looking down for a moment before meeting Kurt’s eyes. “Actually,” he said, opening a small box and kneeling. “I think it’s time I asked you something.”
Ten years later, standing on the same spot on the Dalton staircase, Kurt’s heart stopped once again.