Like Lovers Do

Summary: When Rachel and her co-star earn their first Tony awards for their lead roles in Broadway's West Side Story revival, Kurt insists on whisking his best friend and boyfriend away for a celebratory island getaway – with Blaine and Santana in tow. As their vacation unfolds, Rachel and Blaine's mildly confusing friends-with-benefits arrangement starts to become a little too complicated; Kurt and Santana try to control the drama as they confront their own fears about love, life, and commitment. Multi-chapter future fic, with Rachel/Blaine, established Kurt/OMC, and references to past canon pairings including Kurt/Blaine and Santana/Brittany.

Disclaimer: No one is mine, sadly, except for a few original characters!

XXXXX

And I had my heart beaten down,

But I always come back for more, yeah

There's nothin' like love to pull you up,

When you're lyin' down on the floor there

So talk to me, talk to me,

Like lovers do

Yeah, walk with me, walk with me,

Like lovers do

-Celine Dion, 'Taking Chances'

XXXXX

Chapter 1: Don't Wanna Be Alone Tonight, Part I

Blaine Anderson pushed open the doors leading out of John F. Kennedy International Airport's Terminal 8, and immediately checked his watch.

5:00 in the evening, New York time. So he'd make the Tony Awards broadcast after all.

He grinned, setting a dark brown suitcase on the ground against the terminal wall, and fished in the back pocket of his khakis for his cell phone.

"Blaine?"

"Hey, Wes, it's me."

"Are you seriously calling me from the Philippines on a Sunday night? Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine," he laughed, "I'm doing great, really. Look, I know it's incredibly short notice, but I'm actually in your neck of the woods right now – I'm in Queens. Just landed at JFK –"

"– and I'm guessing you didn't even tell anyone you'd be dropping by the states this week. You never change," said Wes, a clear hint of amusement belying his stern banker's tone.

"– and I heard Clara's hosting Tony-viewing festivities at your place tonight. Mind if I crash the party? I think I'll be able to stay with a friend in Manhattan starting tomorrow, at least until I finalize the lease on this Hell's Kitchen apartment I'm looking at, but she's out tonight, and a TV and couch sound pretty amazing right now."

"If you don't stop by, and stay two nights at the least, I will be personally offended," Wes assured him. "I hope you can stomach watching a certain male designer we all know and love canoodling on the red carpet with the fellow who's up for, er, a Tony for replicating your lead high school musical role on a Broadway stage. And what's this about an apartment lease, you're back here for good?"

"All in good time," he said, grinning more widely. "I'll be there as soon as I can. You're the best. Thank Clara for me too."

"Can't wait to see you, man."

XXXXX

"Which airline did you take?" the cab driver asked him conversationally, after he'd given him Wes' address.

Blaine smiled and leaned forward in the back seat; he liked chatting with strangers. "Cathay Pacific from Manila. Connected in Hong Kong."

"What were you doing in Manila? Family there?" said the man, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Some still in the country from my mother's side, she actually grew up in Cebu – my father's an Ohioan through and through, for better or worse. I've actually been teaching English in inner-city Manila for the past three years. It's been one of the most wonderful experiences of my life, but I'm ready to come home."

"That's very impressive. May I ask, by home, do you mean Ohio or New York?"

"Oh, New York for sure. I went to college here and thought I'd be here forever – took a job in the media industry after school, but it wasn't really my thing, and when this opportunity came up after two years I just had to take it. But I love New York so much I've been back and forth more times than I can count, and I'm so thrilled to have just landed a job as an educator within the public school system here. I hadn't thought they'd take me without a master's degree."

"There's always something that brings people back to this city," said the driver, nodding. "I see it time and again. For a lot of people, it's a girl or a guy."

"Well, when I first came here out of high school, it was sort of for a guy, and that didn't really work out," Blaine laughed. "It's funny though. There's always something."

XXXXX

"And with us on the red carpet here at the Beacon Theatre we have Miss Rachel Berry, up for Best Performance in her lead role in Broadway's revival of West Side Story – Rachel, congratulations and I must say you look stunning tonight. Before we get started on that dress, do introduce us to your lovely companion –"

"Lovely, never heard such an understatement in my life," Wes muttered out of the corner of his mouth so his wife wouldn't hear, his eyes fixed on Santana.

Blaine grinned; he suspected Wes might never outgrow his crush on Santana, but he couldn't help but agree with his friend's assessment. Santana looked stunning in her signature red; she radiated sexual confidence as effortlessly as she had in high school, or at least as effortlessly as she had until she'd been outed too soon in her senior year. When he made it to NYU the year after she did, he was relieved to find that she hadn't migrated back into the closet (despite Kurt and Rachel's assurances to the contrary, he'd had his doubts), but she seemed different outside of McKinley's walls; uncharacteristically subdued. She'd joined one of his personal favorite female acappella groups on campus, but they weren't the type of ensemble that drew large crowds and swooning groupies of either sex, and she seemed to prefer it that way. Halfway through his freshman year, they got into a loud shouting match in her residence hall when he swung by to recruit her for an event he was spearheading for the LGBTQ student group. It was a fashion show, his own idea in fact (Kurt had nearly burst into tears of joy when he heard the concept – they were still together at the time), but she refused point-blank to model. He accused her of not taking any pride in who she was, adding that she would have jumped at the chance to show off her body when people still thought she was doing it to get attention from men; she screamed at him for daring to define her by her sexuality, before launching into a threat-laced tirade in Spanish and practically assaulting him with her organic chemistry textbook. Somehow, he would never be more proud of her – not even when she went on to NYU Medical School and graduated second in her class – than in the moment she showed up at the very last minute to walk the runway, blowing him a saucy kiss when she located him front and center in the audience. She was a complete and utter surprise, so drop-dead gorgeous in her racy evening gown that he wound up spending most of the night collecting phone numbers on her behalf. (Never one to sit idle, though, she stepped up in short order from "Blaine's ridiculously hot lesbian friend" to become the LGBTQ organization's best social chair in history; he couldn't have been happier to take on the education chair role, and to become vice president to her president during her final year of undergrad).

"– my future gynecologist, once she completes her residency in another year," Rachel was informing Broadway-lovers across the nation, in that blunt way of hers, "and incidentally my one-time high school nemesis."

"That's right, girl," Santana affirmed, flashing a killer smile at the camera.

"Excellent," said the interviewer on autopilot, although he looked a little bemused. "Now do tell us who you're wearing – we've heard it's –"

"Kurt Hummel's of course!" Rachel interrupted, beaming. "He's only 28, you know –"

"– the Jason Wu of our time," Santana added, "just, you know, not Asian."

"Kurt designed it exclusively for me to wear at tonight's event –"

"…and I'll have you know it's quite the drastic improvement over the ghastly frocks she used to wear before I began to clean up her act senior year of high school. – Hi sweetie! Oh, this is perfect on you, my intuition proven correct as always – ah, greetings, my dear Satan. You both look divine. Are we interrupting?"

"No, not at all!" said the interviewer at once, as Kurt Hummel bounced into the frame, pulling a handsome man with dark hair, light grey eyes, and a kind smile along with him by the hand. "Congratulations to you, Kurt, on the exquisite design, and here we have Adam Aarons – Rachel's co-star in West Side Story and fellow nominee for his lead portrayal as Tony – Adam, a hearty congratulations to you as well."

"Thank you, sir, I'm excited to be here tonight." Blaine had never really met Adam, only seen him on stage, but he couldn't help but smile at the way he'd laced his fingers around Kurt's. He seemed like a good guy.

His eyes made his way back to Rachel, who was now holding tightly onto Kurt's other hand and laughing at something Adam was telling the interviewer. An idea occurred to him, and he reached for his cell phone and typed out a quick text message, only half listening to Wes drone on about Adam's take on "Something's Coming."

To: Santana

Sent: 6:21pm

Lookin' good, gorgeous :) Guess who's over at Wes' place watching you guys on TV? I rather suspect he'd still jump your bones in a heartbeat if given the chance, irrespective of his marital status and your sexuality.

To his great amusement, the recipient pulled her phone nearly instantaneously out of the right side of her dress, where it looked like she might have stowed it in her bra, and sent her fingers flying over the keys. He received two texts in short order.

From: Santana

6:23pm

Welcome back to town, prep school. WSS cast party, midnight, the Carlyle on Madison. Be there or I'll kick you in the warblers.

6:24pm

P.S. Tell W he won't get lucky if he comes, but you probably will. Speaking of which, what do you think of R's dress?

He tilted his head, taking in once again the asymmetrical, off-the-shoulder cut; the smooth lines of pastel-colored fabric flowing down the starlet's waist, curving around her hips.

To: Santana

Sent: 6:26pm

Kurt did his job right: Makes me think more about what she looks out of it than in.

To his surprise (and, if he was being honest, delight), she didn't shoot back an innuendo-laden reply, but turned to Rachel (who was now standing close to the edge of the frame about to exit the interview), whispered something in her ear, and handed the phone to her. He couldn't help but feel a little triumphant at the sight of a hint of a blush suffusing Rachel's face and a trace of a secret smile, just before the girls moved off-screen.

"More scotch, Blaine?"

"Yeah, but I'll get it," he said, ducking around Wes to the kitchen; the other red carpet interviews wouldn't interest him.

He sipped his scotch slowly in the kitchen, a little removed from the other revelers, throat warming but palm cool against the glass from the extra ice he'd put in the drink. He was starting to feel that sense of anticipation he'd missed in Manila.

His phone buzzed from where he'd stowed it back in his pocket, and he set down his drink a little too quickly, glass clinking loudly against the counter.

From: Rachel

6:37pm

Santana said you're back in town watching the awards on the small screen. And that she'd invited you to the after party.

To: Rachel

Sent: 6:38pm

It's ok with you if I come?

From: Rachel

6:41pm

Regarding that last message you sent to Santana, I thought I should let you know in the spirit of full disclosure that I've engaged in a severe amount of stress eating in the month leading up to the Tonys. Kurt had to build extra tummy control into the dress to hide my stomach.

He frowned at the tone. In all the years they'd been friends, he had never understood how a girl so confident in her own vocal prowess and intelligence, too confident some might say, could be so insecure about her physical beauty.

To: Rachel

Sent: 6:43pm

You're going to rock it. And I would be really sad if you didn't have a stomach. It's your fifth most kissable attribute.

From: Rachel

6:45pm

Thank you:) Which are the top four?

To: Rachel

Sent: 6:46pm

Lips, base of the throat, the birthmarks under your left breast and on your right hipbone.

"Blaine, what are you doing back there, you're missing Neil Patrick Harris – Wait, was it you Santana was texting back there?"

"Yeah, it was – Wes," he protested, but his friend had already snatched the phone away, holding it irritatingly out of reach, and was scrolling through his texts.

Figuring the damage was already done, Blaine sighed, hopped up to sit on the counter, and waited for the blow to fall.

"Um…Blaine?"

"Yeah," he said resignedly.

"This…Rachel…? You're gay."

"Yeah," he repeated.

"When Kurt ended things between the two of you, you were devastated. I mean, I was still at UCLA, but David was doing his internship in the city that semester, and he said you didn't go to any of your classes for an entire week, and didn't go to a single social event for two months. You were in complete and utter denial even though anyone who knew both of you could see from a mile away that you were growing apart. You took three times as long as a normal person to get over him."

"Of course I did," he said, annoyed. "I was in love with him, Wes. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Only that I'm not entirely sure how the part of this story where you're clearly gay fits in with this," Wes waved Blaine's phone in the air, "which obviously supports the notion that you've experimented physically with Rachel Berry at the very least, and more likely had sexual relations with her multiple times from the subtext. Now that I think about it, Kurt did tell me that you once questioned your sexuality over Rachel back when you were still at Dalton. Perhaps you are bisexual after all?"

"I don't think I am – I mean, yeah, I've realized I'm attracted to women as well, so I guess that's the definition of bisexuality, but I still identify as a gay man, I just always have – I've only dated and been in relationships with guys since Kurt, although I've slept with women –"

"In the plural? When did this happen?" Blaine forced himself to make eye contact, and felt a twinge of guilt when he read Wes' expression. His friend looked slightly less incredulous now, and a lot more hurt that he apparently hadn't been kept in the loop.

"Look, Wes, it's kind of complicated," he admitted, "and Santana is really the only person who knows about this whole thing in the first place, which is why she picked up on what started happening between Rachel and me on her own, without my telling her. Kurt and I keep in touch and we're good friends now, you know that, but I don't think he has any idea that I've been with girls in that way since we broke up.

"After Kurt and I officially ended things toward the end of my sophomore year, you're right, I moped around for a long time. Finally some of my college friends convinced me that I needed to go out and have fun and try to forget about it for a while. The initial plan was a gay bar in the West Village, but one of my guy friends had just pledged a fraternity so we wound up at this crazy NYU party instead, and – well, I somehow ended up going home with this random girl whose name I could barely remember –" He broke off, both of them laughing now – "and yeah, I actually went all the way with her, only the second person I'd ever had sex with – Kurt was my first – and it was stupid and I didn't have any inclination to go out with her, but I actually enjoyed the sex, and I hated myself for enjoying it. It felt like a betrayal of everything I'd shared with Kurt, and I didn't think it was who I was. So I went back to moping in my room for another week.

"Santana finally stormed my room to stage an intervention – she was sick of having to make excuses for my lethargy, said even Rachel got over Finn faster and she hadn't thought that was possible – and I was just so confused and frustrated that I ended up telling her about everything that happened. She took one look at me and started cracking up," he said ruefully.

"No way," said Wes, grinning.

"Yeah – then once she'd finally stopped laughing, she sat down for two hours with me and talked me through it. Told me if I felt like a gay man who dates and falls in love with other men but happens to enjoy sex with women too, then that's what I felt like, and what was the point of either feeling guilty or slapping a new label on myself? Then she went into a lecture about how people who can have sex with the entire population rather than only half without wanting to barf should utilize their God-given capacity to the full extent, otherwise they'd be wasting the libido element in the universe, or something."

"That woman is remarkable," Wes pronounced. "And how did Rachel come into the picture?"

"It wasn't terribly long ago. I was back in town for a week about a year ago, dropped by this coffee place near Kurt's office to catch up with him. Rachel had ascended to the lead role in West Side Story quite recently, and when I mentioned to Kurt that I'd love to catch one of her performances, he made a couple of calls and managed to reserve one of the best seats in the house for that very evening. Met her at the stage-door after the show, went back to her place to catch up – we hadn't seen each other in a while, nor had either of us really been intimate with anyone in a couple of months as I recall, so the sexual tension was running kind of high, and eventually we sort of just went for it. I ended up sleeping over for the entire week, and since then most times I've been back in the city for a few days, we've re-connected and fooled around. We're friends who have sex from time to time. That's all there is to it, really."

"Seriously, Blaine – thanks for telling me, and you know you can count on me if you ever need to talk to someone about Rachel, a boy, anyone. I'm not one to judge – Dalton didn't raise me that way, and once a man of Dalton, always a man of Dalton, right?"

"Right," said Blaine, smiling at him.

"Well, there you go," said Wes, handing the phone back and clapping him once on the back before disappearing into the living room again.

He had one new message – a single word, repeated twice on the screen.

From: Rachel

6:55pm

Tonight, tonight

XXXXX

Please review! So grateful for your favorites and subscriptions but would also love your feedback!

Next chapter: Aftermath of the Tony awards, with cameos from Rachel's dads and a certain stepbrother of Kurt's, Santana's pursuit of a female bartender, and some definite alone time between Rachel and Blaine. Still from Blaine's point of view, although the story will shift perspectives among the characters in future chapters.