Cut the Cord
Chapter 11

Kurt holds the door open for Blaine as they enter the coffeeshop. It’s strange because Blaine was always the one to hold the door open; hewas always the one who needed to be the perfect gentleman, to impress Kurt inany and every way possible. It all seems incredibly pointless now.

The café isn’t particularly full, not like it used to be whenthey came here after school to chat about nothing in particular, enjoying eachother’s newfound company until Kurt’s dad called to ask where he was andwhether he was planning on coming home anytime soon.

There’s only one other person in front of them in the lineso they reach the counter much quicker than usual and it throws them both offfor a moment. The woman behind the counter doesn’t look very impressed at theirstupefied expressions, brushing her hands down her apron impatiently.

Kurt is the first to recover.

“I’ll get a grandenon-fat mocha and he’ll have a medium drip, please. Oh, and could we get one ofthose oatmeal cookies? Thanks.”

Blaine blinks. “You know my coffee order.”

Kurt’s face lights up as he pays the woman and moves to thecollection point. Blaine’s too hung up on how Kurt remembered to even notice that for the first time ever hedidn’t even pay for half of their order. It’s not until they’re handed cups ofsteaming hot coffee and a bagged cookie that Blaine realises he doesn’t haveany cash on him. He feels embarrassed again as he tries to explain this toKurt.

“Oh…I, um, I didn’t pay, and I think I forgot to bring my—”

“It’s on me, dummy.” Blaine’s head whips up in time to catchKurt’s smile at the opposite wall. Blaine doesn’t know whether to feel pleasedor uncomfortable, but he allows the former to win for the moment, and the wallreceives two grins as they make their way to their usual spot by the window.Well, what used to be their usual spot anyway.

Kurt sets about splitting the cookie, thumb carefullypushing the middle inwards so that a line falls almost exactly down the centre.It’s almost perfect, but the jagged edges ruin it; Blaine’s pulse picks upslightly in annoyance. Stupid cookie.

“Huh?”

It’s not until Kurt gives him a weird look from across thetable that he realises he said that last comment out loud.

“Oh, um, it’s just—it’s not quite even…” He gestureshalf-heartedly at the cookie.

Kurt snorts. “Well you can have the bigger half.”

“No.” Blaine retorts too quickly. “No, I’d rather have thesmaller bit.”

Kurt shrugs and slides the bag over to him so he can pickone. Suddenly Blaine can’t work out which one is smaller; Kurt has split it perfectly after all. He closes his eyes and reaches blindly,picking up the first half he touches. Kurt chuckles as it breaks and falls intosmaller pieces on the bag.

“So,” Kurt says, picking up his own bit of cookie moresuccessfully and dunking it in his coffee. “Did you see the travesty that wasthe barista’s hair?”

The conversation starts up like Kurt never left and Blainenever broke them and it’s—surprisingly entertaining. It’s nice to chatteraimlessly and laugh at things without analysing why he’s laughing. Kurt makes him laugh so he laughs. It’s assimple as that.

Until Kurt stops laughing, looking over Blaine’s shoulder atsomething as his expression shifts. When he loudly calls out, “Sam, hi!”,Blaine’s heart sinks.

Sam’s blonde head appears at their table and Blainedefinitely doesn’t fancy the last mouthful of his cookie now. Nevertheless, hekeeps his eyes carefully trained on the raisin poking out, eyes tracing thetiny wrinkles where they disappear beneath the surface of the chunk.

“Uh, hey guys,” Sam sounds distinctly awkward and alarmbells are going off in Blaine’s head because he can see Kurt’s eyes narrowingout of the corner of his vision and that’s never a good sign. “What’re you upto?”

“Having coffee.” Kurt replies brusquely, gesturing to theircups.

“Er, right. Cool.” Sam is shifting his weight from foot tofoot but the timing is uneven. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it—”

“Aren’t you going to ask how Blaine is?” Kurt’s voice soundslike it’s roughly pH 2.

“Kurt, it’s—”

“It’s not fine that yourfriend here didn’t show up to see you once in the hospital.” Kurt standsup, chair scraping backwards and Blaine’s chest constricts in panic.

“Dude, chill!” Sam looks slightly terrified now that theKurt Hummel bitch glare is trained on him in full.

“So what, you decided you didn’t want to associate yourselfwith him now that he needs a shoulder to lean on? Decided he wasn’t worth ahalf-hour visit? What kind of friend is that, huh?”

Voices inside Blaine’s head are screaming so loudly it’spractically white noise, but Kurt doesn’t seem to notice.

“And the rest of them are just as pathetic! Glee Club ismeant to be a support network, but apparently you just abandon each othernow—even when someone almost dies—“

“Dude, he’s not even in Glee anymore!” Sam defends himself,eyes flickering between Kurt and Blaine as if the latter has betrayed him;knowing Blaine, he probably has.

“What?” This information stops Kurt short and Blaine replaceshimself being stared at by two pairs of eyes. Suddenly, it’s all too much andhe wishes he had never agreed to come out in the first place. It was such astupid idea and he’d let himself be dragged into it and now everything aroundhim is cracking again. Or maybe he’s breaking and that’s why his vision isblurring. Either way his feet are pushing him up and stumbling towards the doorbefore his brain tells them to. He pushes past a couple entering the coffeeshop, forcing apart their intertwined hands in the process, and runs out intothe cool air, chest heaving as he gasps for air.