More Than Money And Sense (Part 6/7)
Title: More Than Money And Sense (Part 6/7) Rating: PG (use of alcohol, mild swearing) Word Count: 16,369/17,205 Summary:
Being a bike courier in New York is hard work, physically and mentally. Riding those miles, ever day, and remembering all those names. But Blaine loves it, he really does. He knows everybody on the route, talks to them with a happy smile, and a bad day is one that results in a bruised hip from a collision with a rule-breaking car.
When he gets a letter to deliver outside of his normal route, it strikes his curiosity. But delivering that letter is something even more.
Also available on: Ao3!
Part Six
Kurt is very mindful of the distance between them. With each step he keeps himself measured, the distance perfectly calculated so as not to be too suffocatingly close, too imposing, but close enough that they are walking together.
The street is kind of crowded, and Kurt doesn’t know where they’re headed. He keeps a tight eye on Blaine’s footsteps, the turn of his body, and he doesn’t see the lady with the pram till the last minute. She’s trying to take the inside of the footpath, closest to the stores, and her large pram and gaggle of kids that follow behind don’t quite fit between the other pedestrians. She is obviously a tourist, trying to hold her little family of children together, and Kurt feels almost sorry for.
He shifts out of her way, and in doing so ends up right next to Blaine, hands catching, and then Blaine’s hand is fitting around his and their fingers linking together, closer than the small touch of hands in the cafe. He is scared for a moment, scared to touch, scared to lean into it, but Blaine presses their shoulders together as he dodges another pedestrian and he only glances to Kurt for a quick smile before continuing as if it is the most comfortable thing in the world.
‘Um, where exactly are we going?’ Kurt asks as Blaine leads him round a corner and into a new street. He’s not familiar with this part of town, but Blaine seems to be.
He leans into Kurt’s shoulder, nudging him softly without speaking and then points. Halfway down the block is a large sprawling park, with children’s play equipment and a large garden.
‘I wanted something special,’ Blaine says softly, ‘for our first date, seeing as I ruined our second meeting.’ His grip on Kurt’s hand tightens slightly, and Kurt can feel the blood thrumming across his thumb, the ba-bump of it. ‘It’s probably too childish, but we can talk here, and get to know each other. I mean, of course it’s too childish, we can go somewhere el-’
Kurt laughs, high and wicked and uses his grip on Blaine’s hand to drag him along. ‘A park?’ They run, Blaine straggling only just behind Kurt in his hesitance, but Kurt only drops his hand when they reach the empty swing, jumping onto it with both feet and gripping the chains. His head almost grazes the metal frame but he laughs again, unable to stop and Blaine pushes against his lower back to move the swing.
‘I haven’t been on one of these since I was a kid!’ Kurt calls loudly over his shoulder and leans into Blaine’s touch. It is like flying, being on this swing, with Blaine’s arms warm and careful on his back, guiding, and his laughter in his ear. It’s like flying with his best friend.
Blaine’s arm loops around the metal handle of the old merry-go-round, leaning into Kurt’s shoulder in comfortable conversation. The merry-go-round isn’t spinning, save for the small movements his foot makes against the tanbark.
‘So I think we’ve officially proven that five years in the city doesn’t have to make anyone cold, and jobs are extremely hard to come by.’
‘New York City at it’s finest,’ Kurt laughs. ‘I’d hate to see it at it’s worst.’
‘My roommate, Tink, says she has, but I doubt it. She just does what she wants and does it well. And what she wants to do a lot of the time is get drunk and absolutely nothing else.’ Blaine accompanies the statement with a small grin, almost to himself and they both jump as a young boy jumps onto the other side of the merry-go-round, making it spin a couple of feet they weren’t expecting. Kurt slides, almost off the platform, and Blaine reaches out quickly to snag his waist, altogether too unexpected, and too intimate, but he doesn’t pull away.
It seems they have done a lot of this, this back and forward of banter and back and forward of touches, close and then pulling away in a movement they both hope is natural, if only to avoid the other from feeling the rapid beating of their hearts.
‘Come on,’ Blaine says as the platform is spun once more, starting to gain speed as the boy’s friends join him. ‘Let’s get out of here before we get stuck.’ Together, they climb off the merry-go-round, Blaine’s arm still around Kurt’s waist, and he leads the pair of them out of the park and into the sprawling gardens surrounding it.
The gardens are beautiful, filled with deep garden beds of beautiful flowers. They pass hydrangeas and hyacinths and frangipanis, and Kurt stops them occasionally, to bend and smell the luscious scent. But Blaine is distracted, searching for something, and although his arm stays on the small of Kurt’s back, he doesn’t watch him as he moves, and he doesn’t listen with full attentiveness to the small-talk.
‘Blaine, is something going on?’ Kurt asks, words biting in Blaine’s thoughts. Kurt’s hand is reaching behind his own back, catching Blaine’s and squeezing. ‘You’re out of it.’
‘Sorry,’ he says quickly. ‘I’m looking for something.’
‘Looking for something?’
‘Yep. It should be here somewhere.’ Blaine moves a little faster then, between the trees and flowerbeds, pulling Kurt behind him. ‘If it’s not here, I’m not going to be very-’ It’s then that he sees it, and so does Kurt, a large picnic basket, resting on an empty blanket under a large drooping willow.
‘Oh,’ Kurt says softly, the tension easing throughout his body. ‘Blaine, you didn’t have to-’
‘Of course I did. This is the date I’ve planned, remember?’ He leads him gently across the last patch of lawn before pulling him down softly onto the mat. ‘Lunch?’ he asks with a grin.
They eat chicken and avocado sandwiches, others filled with ham cheese and tomato, and drink old-fashioned lemonade. It had taken hours on the phone to organise the delivery of the basket, and the items inside it. He’d even managed to find a lemon cheesecake for dessert.
Kurt lies back on the blanket, taking the last spoonful of cheesecake that Blaine offers to him. ‘I feel like you went to too much trouble for me,’ he grins. ‘I don’t deserve all this expense.’
Blaine almost laughs at that. ‘I paid for coffee and lunch. Nothing more than a normal date, is it not?’ He raises an eyebrow, finally letting out that little burble of a giggle, and Kurt laughs back.
‘God, we just had the most un-normal date ever.’
Blaine’s face flushes at that comment. ‘It was okay, though, right?’
Kurt sits up on his elbows, the better to catch Blaine’s eye. ‘It was better than okay. It was the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me. I’ve-’ He ducks his head bashfully. ‘I’ve never had anyone pay so much attention to me before, and want me to be the same back. I like it.’ He smiles, small and timid. ‘Very much.’
The grin across Blaine’s face is wider, and at that expression, Kurt feels his own smile blossom across his cheeks. ‘I’m glad,’ Blaine says. ‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.’ He puts their empty bottle of lemonade back into the basket, and it feels like this moment is coming to an end, this little picnic under the leafy willow.
‘If it wasn’t the corniest sentiment ever,’ Kurt quips, ‘I would say I’d want it to last forever.’
‘We don’t-’ Blaine mumbles quickly. ‘We can go see a movie, or a show, or there’s a circus a couple of blocks away that’s there for the next few days and-’
Kurt reaches up and presses his hand over Blaine’s mouth to still his words. ‘I think you’ve spent enough money and effort on me, today. But I don’t want to stop spending time with you.’
Blaine’s reply is quick, once his mouth is freed. ‘Then come back to my place.’
‘Your- your place?’ He raises his eyebrows, suddenly nervous, stomach twisting and his hands raising a sweat. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for- I mean, we only just- this is our first date and-’
‘Shh,’ Blaine says softly, reassuringly. ‘Not- not sex. I’ve only- I mean, the last time I talked to you before today, I had a hangover, and I made a poor impression of myself. I don’t want to push us too fast, not on a first date.’
And the way he says us makes Kurt’s stomach hum in a very different way.
‘Oh, okay. Um- so no getting drunk either?’
‘No alcohol whatsoever. I just want to show you something. Something I’ve been working on.’
‘Something you’ve been...?’ Kurt trails off.
‘When I’m not riding my bike around this fine city, I sit at home and write music. It’s kind of why Tink and I ended up with our apartment together. She likes guitars but didn’t have one, I like piano but I don’t have the funds to provide one for our little place. Tink has money.’
‘You,’ Kurt says carefully. ‘You wrote me a song?’
‘Well, I mean, kind of. I wrote it, and I wrote it because of you, and I want to show it to you, and I don’t even know if I’d call it a song but-’ He looks up and catches Kurt’s expression, lips quirked up at the edges in an almost-laugh. ‘Yes, I did.’
Kurt truly laughs then, standing up and holding out his hand to lift Blaine off the ground. ‘Well, then, let’s go.’
Blaine unlocks the door with one hand, frowning slightly as the key doesn’t quite engage and Kurt laughs out a snort at the same problem they have between their doors.
‘What?’ Blaine asks.
‘I have trouble with my key at home, too. I try to make sure Rachel’s home before me to let me in.'
‘Well, normally Tink’s home, but I asked her to clear out for tonight. In case- well, in case we came back here.’ He blushes, and he’s been doing a lot of that the past little while, as their date progressed. He feels flustered and on the backhand, and Kurt seems so calm and put together. Blaine wishes he could put himself together so easily, and not take ages of planning to do so.
‘How thoughtful of you,’ Kurt smiles. He steps across the threshold and slides off his coat, letting Blaine take it and hang it on the hook beside the door. He toes off his boots next, and places them beside the door. It feels strangely intimate and Blaine rushes to copy him, pushing his sneakers up against the wall.
‘Now, show me this song, before I start shaking with nerves,’ Kurt almost whispers, but he doesn’t seem to be shaking at all. Blaine can feel the tremor in his own hands, and he bites his lip. With a small nod he leads Kurt towards the piano, motioning for him to sit at one end of the long bench seat. He takes the other, positioning himself in the middle, so the barest edge of his thigh presses against Kurt’s, but his hands can reach all the keys he needs.
‘I started this on guitar, before coming across to piano, so I’m sorry if it sounds horrible.’
‘It’s not going to sound horrible, Blaine.’
‘I really hope it doesn’t.’ And he presses his fingers to the keys and plays, soft and gentle, with only the barest of bass accompaniments. There’s no words, of course there isn’t. But he builds the piece, slowly and with an ease that Kurt wishes he could have with music. Even as he listens and Blaine plays, the music swells to a crescendo, more bass and fast movements, no longer slow and careful but hurried. Blaine’s fingers press each note carefully until suddenly he slips and the smallest error falls clear and true, a clash of notes, but he bites his lip and continues, desperate to get to the end, and by the time he is finished, it is nothing in Kurt’s memory of the song. It is only one small fault that proves that Blaine was caught up in the song too, and not just playing the technical notes.
Kurt smiles at him as Blaine rests his fingers carefully on the wooden edge of the keys.
‘So,’ he asks. ‘What did you think?’
The firm press of Kurt’s hand against his knee is words enough, but he speaks anyway. ‘It’s beautiful. I can’t believe- I can’t believe you wrote that for me.’
‘Well, sometimes I just- I get in this state of just- and you were just so pretty when I saw you and then I screwed it all up and I didn’t know what to do about it and-’ He stops quickly, pressing his fingers into the keys and making a perfect chord, playing into the sound of the music. ‘It just kind of happened,’ he finishes lamely as he draws the small little impromptu melody to a close.
‘Well,’ Kurt mimics, voice low. ‘I’m glad it did.’
They end up pressed next to each other on the couch, Blaine daring to reach out and take Kurt’s hand while they watch some rom-com that was playing on TV as they flicked past channels. There’s popcorn, and a large bowl of strawberries, and they feed each other with soft laughs, not even realising the enormity of their movements as they brush away juice from each others lips.
Kurt had planned to go home that night, but he falls asleep against Blaine’s shoulder, moving lazy and pliant as Blaine’s wakes him up gently to grab blankets. They curl together on the long sofa, Blaine’s arm comfortably around Kurt’s waist, and they sleep soundly.