A/N: So, it's been forever… But I've finally decided to post this =D I hope you like it and reviews are very welcome as are suggestions for improvements ^-^ Beta'd by AphraelFT.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my minor OC just to help roll the storyline on a bit. The title comes from the song At Your Door by Alexi Murdoch, and Glee and its characters belong to FOX and Ryan Murphy.

Warnings: Angst and swearing, but not too much.

Summary: Ten years ago, they made a promise. Ten years ago, they experienced heartbreak for a purpose they suddenly can't seem to remember when they meet again in the middle of a crowded coffee shop in New York.

But I Will Only Love You More

May 2012

Ten years earlier, they make their promise in the cold air of a rainy day in May.

To their right, Dalton's towers rise high into the grey sky that threatens with the expected rainfall to announce the end of school. The grey stone of the school offers with its sanctity, a coolness in the late spring atmosphere. In their clear sight, they can easily make out the rigged way stone fits on stone, hacked down into obscene blocks, sharp edges protruding on every brick, the corners promising bruises should they ever be touched harshly. Yet, with the deep brown front door, with its delicate ornate handle and warm colour, with the windows that shed light to a peaceful library and show the occasional bright, smiling face of one of the students, it evens out. Suddenly the school loses its harshness and shines with a glow the students like to think of as 'home'.

They are pouring out of the heavy, double doors of the institution, students clad in dark, almost black robes and hats to match them, laughing and cheering as their feet squelch with every step over the still wet grass that stains their shoes and leaves remnants of cut off grass clinging to them.

Somewhere in the muddled crowd of black robes and hats, David and Wes are discussing their future plans fervently, already planning their visits to each other's universities, their parents beaming so proudly over the certificates they clutch at with tremblingly happy hands, discussing their sons' futures and prospects.

Somewhere, Burt and Carole are shouting for Kurt and Blaine, the parental pride of Kurt present in every way as they silently think a repeating thank you, for giving Kurt the opportunity to finally be happy, joined by Blaine's parents, who remain respectfully silent as they catch sight of the two boys a distance off and steer the Hummel-Hudson household to a different location to give the boys time. They don't hear any words that are exchanged, but the look on Blaine's face is one that they have witnessed before. And they know not to intrude upon it.

Neither of the two notices. They remain in a seclusion of the world and all facing it brings with it. In their bubble, for the first time, they allow themselves to see past the happiness, past the pain they could potentially face, and for the first time, they see clearly. But neither is willing to admit so.

There is no promise of forget, no promise of blissful happiness. Just the stark, harsh reality that clashes with their ideal and breaks it into a million little shards of glass.

After all this time, Kurt still remembers how he closed his eyes to hide the build-up of water. How he bit his lip, hoping Blaine wouldn't notice.

He will never know how much the sight breaks Blaine's heart, right there and then.

They remain silent for a while after that. The words have been spoken, shaky nods and badly acted out smiles exchanged and all that is left is emptiness as the space they spent two years minimising slowly expands again almost maliciously. For the last time, a solemn splash of sea blue meets a maze of unsteadying mahogany.

Their secret promise is that this is the last time they will see each other.

Fate's secret promise is that ten years later, they're both not sure if their promise means more or less to them now, as they stare at each other from opposing ends of a coffee shop in fifth avenue.

And in this moment, on the grass of Dalton Academy's lawn, their thoughts mirror each other again, their minds tracing the same patterns into their brains and doing exactly the same thing as they have learned to do over time together: Knowing exactly what the other is thinking. They could spend hours upon hours working out travel schedules, but it doesn't matter anymore.

They are high-school sweethearts. And teenage romance isn't meant to last.

September 2022

The cold sun promises rain in the morning. When Blaine awakes to face the grey clouds that hang gloomily in the sky outside his apartment, he only groans before letting his head hit the pillow again with a low huffing noise and postpones his strict-six-o'clock-wake-up-slot to a later time.

But he knows when the soft squeaking of springs and an increased sense of occasional elevation to the point of almost being fully in the air surges through him, that Kate won't have any of that. Of the whole apartment, his roommate is probably the most cause for distress around here. And the bills are pretty steep, so that's saying something.

It would have been a whole lot easier for him if she didn't start belting out "Sunshine" by Rye Rye. Since the song located itself on his iPod, which she borrowed to go 'jogging' (what in all actuality was the worst cover story for early morning sprints to the nearby park to catch the 'cute' vendor selling their customary breakfast apple fritters that fully accounted for all the calories lost by any physical exercise used to get them), Blaine had not been able to convince her that the song should find its way very quickly to a nearby desktop trash can.

"One day, I will stop forgetting to delete that thing off my iPod" Blaine mumbles with sleep drunken stupor when he finally stops yawning from exhaustion and settles himself onto the couch, desperately clinging onto the steaming mug that proudly proclaims him an alumnus of Stanford University, filled with the light brown colour of the latte that promises to keep him in a vertical position for at least a few hours.

"Too late" Kate grins at him. Her voice is the chipper noise of a chainsaw on Blaine's eardrums. "I've already memorised the lyrics."

Around him, the place is an unfinished puzzle of the divide between classy and sophisticated and misplaced clothes, cups and furniture. Blaine chose their couch, for its light blue leather covering that match the white coffee table before it. Kate chose a nearby armchair of clashing lime green. And yet they work in tandem, each living in their completely opposite world with ease at the other's presence. Between them, life balances out.

Quickly sitting on the couch next to his slumped figure, it prevents him from lying back down into another fit of sleep and he grumbles a string of light curses at her, but she takes no offense, in the familiarity of the situation.

This has become their routine. Built up when they first moved in together several years ago now. And both take comfort in their deep knowledge of the other. It works well, the synchronicity of their lives as they blend in together and are moulded in any conflicting aspect, into fitting shapes.

If asked how they met, their story will barely waiver in its telling, despite its age. Through the uttering of the simple words four years ago, both are transported into their memories, as vivid as their twenty-twenty visions.

November 2018

And suddenly, when they blink and open their eyes, it's four years ago again. There's that lost look in a black-haired boy as he exits a cab in the busy streets of New York. The yellow vehicle whizzes away with a rashness that surprises the boy and he watches it disappear into a uniform rainbow of yellow cabs in a torrent of mid-November rain.

He stilts his jacket to protect his face from the storm and slowly walks through the crowd, careful to keep his bag close by. Behind him, he trails a large suitcase and the letter with the hotel's address, where he is to stay until a more permanent lodging can be found. When he crashes into passers-by, his apologies are lost to the howling wind and the rushed footsteps of a hurried bustle and he comes to wonder already how this city can be perceived as the greatest one in the world, when no one takes even a second to just look at it.

In the end, various attempts at asking for directions and the sight of a nearby policeman overlooking the crowds underneath the cover of a shop entry, brings Blaine to the front of a large skyscraper. He looks on the gold plate drilled into the cold, grey stone only for affirmation, before entering and being ushered by at least three attendees to a nearby coat hanger, before he is allowed to go to the reception desk.

The girl behind it looks up briefly with an impetuous smile that speaks of fatigue and half a salary lost on concealer to hide it.

"Blaine Anderson. I'm booked in for three weeks?"

A few clicks as her hand hovers above the keyboard, a frown and a momentary flutter of an eyelid, then she looks back up and Blaine and hands him a key with a "Welcome to Park Central Mr Anderson." And that's it. And yet, he can't help but remember, when he walks through the foyer. And all of a sudden, this looks like a much worse idea to him.

May 2011

"Kurt, Kurt calm down!"

"This place is amazing!"

Pearly laughter echoes through the halls of the hotel as Kurt practically zooms through it, a childlike quality to his smile, his manner, everything about him. His hand is firmly entwined with Blaine's and he is pulling the older boy through the foyer and into the elevator, ignoring the pointed looks from the receptionist who fails to find the amount of time needed to ask them if they had permission to be here at all.

"I can't believe they actually made it!" the younger boy gushes and Blaine can't help but laugh softly as he presses a gentle, loving kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "And I can't believe" Kurt continues, cheeks tinged red from Blaine's sudden actions "That this is what you surprise me with! Weeks of suspense and all I even dared to hope for was a solo at one of the nursing homes at best."

Blaine hums the opening notes to Empire State Of Mind and behind the amused grin on Kurt's face, he traces the vestiges of an empty, longing sadness that makes his voice drift off with a gently probing look directed at his boyfriend.

"That's what started this all." He breathes and Blaine notices, from familiarity with the motion, the slight tremor in his breathing, the way Kurt's eyes flicker to the ceiling to his right and Blaine knows he's intruded on a memory Kurt had so far successfully repressed.

"We… New Directions sang that song at the beginning of the year." There's a smile on his face now, an incongruent smile that continues his speech to Blaine in thoughts they share without the other's knowledge. The intimacy of their knowledge of each other allows Blaine to read Kurt like a book and he can divide every smile, every laugh into categories of happiness and pain. And over the last year, he has worked so, so hard to eradicate any pain from his love's world. The realisation that he brought forth a painful moment, shatter something within him. The silent assuredness he has always prided himself in having, to make Kurt smile, no matter what.

A light-hearted sound, like the striking of a bell in complete silence, makes the two boys jump simultaneously and the blush when they realise peacefulness of their sole company of each other has ended. At the other end of the corridor, they hear the laughter and the giggles of the members of New Directions and Kurt has to collect himself, his face, for the smallest part of a second adopting the crestfallen look that he manages to even hide from Blaine, before he beams and dashes toward the voices. Blaine just smiles, happiness radiating through his expression at the sight of a Kurt so happy, so elated and utterly free of the guarded exterior he builds up in Ohio for constant fear of disapproval…

November 2018

That night, for the first time, he lets himself explore New York. On previous vacations, workload for university proved too large to be ignored and pushed aside by pleasure. By now, he thinks, he must know pretty much all of Ohio thanks to the limited exploring of the USA whenever holidays called him home.

He finds a bar. How, he doesn't remember exactly. The maze of the city gives him a headache as it is. The rustic interior immediately flushes Blaine's cheeks with warmth as he sheds his scarf and gloves at the bar and lets the bartender stare at his half-open mouthed expression as he takes in the information that would make the pub unlikely to serve cosmopolitans. Hard liquors and beer have never made it into his list of preferences.

"Gin and Tonic?"

The bartender nods and only a short time later, with the drink, arrives a young woman, no older than himself, sitting down next to Blaine and ordering a whisky with the fervency that clues Blaine in to the fact that she must have had a pretty awful day to end up here.

"Bad night?" He questions, the words falling out of his mouth before he can stop it. When she looks at him with dark blue eyes that trace redness in them too well for her to conceal her emotions, Blaine instantly regrets his question and bites his lip nervously.

"Something like that" she murmurs, taking a sip from the glass the bartender sets down in front of her with expectant snatches at the dollar bills she peels out of her purse.

"As of ten minutes ago, I am officially single and without a roommate to support the rent for my apartment, so yeah, pretty bad night"

"Sorry"

Silence falls over them for a short period in which they both take alternate sips from their drinks.

"I'm guessing you're new here? Or at least… that jacket is"

"California lacks rain chivalrously. And snow, for that matter"

"So what brings you all the way here? Running away from home?"

Blaine barks a laugh. "Running closer to it, more likely. I'm from Ohio, originally. Stanford called, I answered, after that a job in California and now, the company moved me here. I'm still not too sure how much the city life and I will get on. It's always been small-town life for me."

"Huh" the girl seems to consider his words for a moment, her glance drifting to the right and up at the ceiling. "Can't say I'd know about that, I've grown up in the city."

"You're not missing out on anything. I can tell you that."

"Well look at that. Ten minutes and I haven't even had the courtesy to introduce myself. I can't tell whether my parents would be more horrified or yours would be concerned about your talking to a stranger who could be an axe-wielding maniac for all you know."

"Nah, I checked you out when you came in. If you have an axe hidden anywhere, I will either laugh at its being able to fit in that tiny jacket, or I'd have some serious questions about the decisions of its placement."

"Blaine" he says in-between fits of laughter in ways of an introduction, holding out his hand like the true gentleman his parents like to believe to have raised him as.

"Kate"

"So, Kate. City-girl. Can I extract a promise for a guided tour of New York from you?"

"It's a date" she grins and takes another sip of her drink, just as the bartender calls out for people to start leaving and Blaine realises he's spent far more time here than he originally planned. Tomorrow is one rare day off for him, to get settled in, as his boss had said, but he had still planned on having a normal schedule day and getting up early.

"So listen." He turns back to Kate when she speaks again, eyes sparkling in the dim light as she gathers up her jacket and finishes her drink. "You seem fun. And you seem interesting and I want to talk to you more. What do you say we take this someplace cosier seeing as how every club seems t be shutting down? Might as well make the most of my apartment while I can stay in it."

Blaine blushes a deep shade of crimson as he takes a suggestive edge to the comment as implied.

"I'm gay."

Kate starts for a fraction of a second before turning back to Blaine. "Well okay then… I have Margaritas and Mojitos at home" She shrugs in that offhand fashion Blaine instantly recognises and he smiles softly, startled by her response.

"Well, I'm more of a Cosmopolitan guy, to be honest…"

One wink, and her hand finds his as she pulls him out of the bar and they make their way to a seemingly rather well-off district of Manhattan.

"Wow" Blaine breathes as he takes in the building and Kate just scoffs, turning to him for a second and stopping mid-stride.

"Yeah, it's a pretty upmarket place. The only reason I could afford it was because my room-mate is pretty loaded. Or her parents are. Anyway, she moved. Apparently the Texan desert was really calling to her or something."

Blaine doesn't comment on the bitterness of her tone, just follows her slim figure through the front door. When they pass a hotel-like reception area, complete with a desk and a young man behind it, smiling brightly at Blaine's companion as she asks him for her key and Blaine catches sight of one of the pamphlets on the desk, adorned with pictures of the interiors of their 'magnificent, luxury apartments' that they advertise, Kate only hears a sharp intake of breath behind her.

TBC.