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On his first day at NYU, Blaine’s hands shake so bad that he drops his phone on the concrete and cracks the screen right down the middle.
Obviously, it’s an omen for how the rest of the day will roll out.
When Blaine began teaching at Dalton, it had felt incredibly foreign to once again be surrounded by adolescent boys who didn’t know what to do with their hormones. And apparently it doesn’t matter which generation in question, because the New Directions will always be a sharp shock to the senses. But he got used to them soon enough, adjusted to the hyperactive pacing of show choir competition – and now that’s gone again and he’s back surrounded by academia. The changes have been so fast, so sudden, and once again Blaine feels just that little bit off centre, like the floor underneath him is uneven and rolling and doing everything it can to topple him over.
But he’s not going to fall this time.
NYU is so big that Blaine feels quite overwhelmed – after attending a specialised college like NYADA, the sheer span of this university is monstrous. Blaine finds himself thinking of a hydra; too many heads to count, too many areas vying for his interest, and no way to tell which one is the right pathway and which one will snap his neck when he’s not paying attention. He’s already signed up for all the classes that could possibly point him towards a career in the performing arts, but his hand still hesitates when his mouse strays over one of the teaching degrees on offer.
But no – performing. Performing is what he wants to do and Blaine knows that. He’s never more sure of himself, more happy than when he’s on a stage with an audience docile in the palm of his hand, and when the doubts sprout feelers, he just has to remind himself of that.
Kurt sends him off at the doorway to the loft with an excited bounce in his step and a kiss that’s too smiley to be anything more than silly – Kurt, who is probably more excited about this than Blaine; Kurt, who woke him up this morning with a stack of pancakes taller than Blaine himself; Kurt, who was up all night sorting his books and his stationery and making everything was just right so that his first day could be perfect. (Kurt, who is entering his fourth year at NYADA next week when Blaine just barely managed to escape repeating his first year of college all over again. But it’s okay. They talked about this, and they’re okay.)
But apparently Blaine’s cracked phone screen really was a bad omen, because he soon finds that it doesn’t matter how carefully Kurt helped him prepare, colour coded notebooks are about the only thing he has going for him today. He gets to his first lecture twenty minutes late – the subway was late and he swears that door was not there the first time he walked past – and he didn’t even realise that he had an acting skills tutorial until half an hour into the class, since every other course starts next week, and now, of all things, he appears to have left his money at home. That means no lunch and god, Blaine is starving.
Blaine hates college.
(He texts Kurt Got lost on my way to my first lecture. :( and Kurt texts back I packed a map in the front pocket of your bag, silly. xxx, so he’s probably not getting any sympathy there.)
He’s slumped over scowling at a table in a coffee shop he found on the edge of campus – because if he can’t drink coffee, he can at least get high on the smell – when a heavy hand claps down on his back and a cheerful voice exclaims, ‘Blaine! I found you!’
Blaine jerks upward in alarm and twists in his seat to see – Elliott Gilbert. Elliott Gilbert, smiling and wearing a burgundy Henley and sliding casually into the seat opposite Blaine, completely assured of his welcome.
Oh god, Elliott.
Somehow, in Blaine’s complete panic about returning to college, he completely forgot that he already had friends at this university.
(And – well. The simple fact of the matter is that Kurt always was closer to Elliott than Blaine. The two of them clicked in a special way that Blaine envied. Blaine actually hasn’t spoken to him in person since before the break up, although he knows that Kurt has been in contact. He knows Elliott and he knows that he likely would have refused to take sides at all, but he once it went down, he wasn’t going to risk it.)
Elliott smiles at him, casual and easy and utterly non-judgemental, and Blaine gets the feeling that he knows exactly what he’s thinking.
‘Kurt asked me to keep an eye out for you today,’ Elliott explains, presumably in response to Blaine’s speechlessness. ‘He said you might be a little lost.’
Blaine rolls his eyes. ‘Tell Kurt that I found his map, thanks very much.’
Elliott reaches across and knocks at Blaine’s wrist. ‘Tell him yourself, you’re his husband!’
Blaine opens his mouth to respond and then stops. Because honestly, it’s been months and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get over hearing that.
Elliott shakes his head and barks out a laugh. ‘Hopeless, the both of you,’ he says fondly. ‘Can’t even hear the word without getting that dopey expression on your face.’
Blaine laughs and looks down at his hands, folded together on top of the coffee table. ‘Well, you know,’ he says. ‘Not too long ago it wasn’t even an option. It’s special.’
Elliott makes a humming noise. ‘I think it’s insane, for the record,’ he says. ‘Absolutely amazing and totally predictable, but very much crazy.’
From anyone else, it would sound like a scolding. From Elliott, it sounds almost admiring.
Still. Blaine asks, ‘So we have your... blessing?’
Elliott huffs a laugh. ‘I mean, man, you and Kurt were always gonna live out your fairy tale no matter what, so I’m not sure whatever the rest of us think even matter,’ he says.
‘No, but I mean – ‘ Blaine searches for the right words. ‘You think this is the right decision to make?’ Because if there’s anyone who’s opinion he values, it’s Elliot’s. Elliott is about three times more level headed than any of the rest of Kurt or Blaine’s friends combined. He actually thinks about his actions, instead of acting on impulse and passion; Blaine didn’t think that was possible after two years in McKinley High. He doesn’t know what sort of conversations Kurt and Elliott had in the time they were separated, but he does know that Elliott would have been a fair judge no matter what. Not that Blaine would ever admit it, but the man is about two steps away from being Burt Hummel wise in Blaine’s mind.
Elliott shrugs. ‘Dude, as long as you don’t let history repeat itself, the two of you are going to rock this town to its bones. Why the hell not?’
‘Exactly!’ Blaine grins. ‘Why the heck not?’
Elliott leans back in his seat to stretch his back out. ‘So seriously, do you need directions anywhere?’ he asks, running a hand down his tattoos on one arm. ‘Because I’m dying to pass on my wisdom, young padawan. Like, I’m just saying, the recording booths over in the west wing are completely soundproof in case you and Kurt are ever feeling adventurous – ‘
‘Oh my God, Elliott,’ Blaine sputters.
‘Not like we don’t all know what you two get up to, Blaine!’ he sing songs, a wicked edge to his smile. ‘Oh! And if you ever want a buzz then Professor Hasber always leaves his tutorial rooms unlocked so they pretty much always smell like weed, which we’re pretty sure is why his lessons are so weird – ‘
‘Elliott – ‘
‘And just between you and me, I found one of the fraternity’s secret storage spots for booze last year, so if you’re ever feeling like inciting the rage of a hundred dudebros then that’s totally there to exploit – ‘
‘Elliott!’ Blaine cries and Elliott grins again, one of those wide smiles that looks like sunshine.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Blaine admits after a moment. ‘It’s less... daunting, I suppose.’
Elliott reaches across the table to grip at Blaine’s wrist, his skin warm against Blaine’s. ‘You don’t think Kurt just wanted me to give you directions, do you?’ he asks, his eyes intent on Blaine. ‘Starting at a new college is scary, man. We all get that.’
‘Yeah,’ Blaine says quietly.
They’re quiet for a moment before Elliott leans back again. ‘So what do you think about eyeliner?’ he asks speculatively. ‘Still haven’t wrangled Kurt into any, but you – ‘
‘Oh, no,’ Blaine says, pushing back in his seat and holding up his hands. ‘No, that rockstar thing is all you, sir. ‘
‘Kurt would be all over you!’
Blaine pauses. ‘You think?’
Elliott leans forward, eyes glinting. ‘I know.’
Blaine leans forward to match his posture. ‘Elliott Gilbert,’ he says very seriously. ‘I do believe this is the start of a wonderful partnership.’