Hello everyone! I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this out - real life sucks, as I'm sure you all know. I hope you enjoy this brief follow-up to We Were Never Here. If you haven't already seen, there's a link in my profile for the fanmix to WWNH, with bonus songs as the four title tracks to this story. Happy reading! Please let me know what you think! (PS why are you all following the story? This is complete. o.O)

So Much to Say

I: Blaine - Better Left Unsaid
There's moving haze that holds his head,
Of words that all go left unsaid.
In darkened halls and passage ways,
He's not ignorant,
He must be brave.

For Blaine, the summer had been the most difficult of his life.

He hadn't thought it could get much worse than the summer before, faced with the possibility that Kurt was going to leave him, or worse, that he wouldn't. His emotions had circled and cycled and whirled in a way that left him feeling like he'd been jerked around by his ribs the whole time, ranging from panic to despair to misery because Kurt wasn't leaving to misery that he still might - and only at the very end, back at school in fact, did he find peace. It was a painful peace, but a calmness nonetheless. Eventually, his love for Kurt, as always, had helped him find his bravery; he'd vowed to stand up on his own and let his boyfriend go.

This summer was worse for all the things that should make it better, though. He had certainty - and yes, going to NYADA was good, but he was certain he'd be only going there as Kurt's friend. His emotions weren't circling and cycling - they were instead following an inexorable path to a place he didn't want to be. A place where he was resigned to being in love with Kurt but quietly and never reciprocated. A place where he had a constant, one-sided battle with Sebastian where he inwardly fought for every minute he could take of Kurt's time, cheered for every minute won, and Sebastian never noticed a thing because he would always have the most.

Blaine hadn't seen a lot of Kurt. Kurt was helping hold down the shop and earning his keep for the school months ahead, and it was a sacred space for Hudmel Bonding Time. Outside of work - well, Blaine couldn't complain that Kurt didn't try to make time. There were coffees grabbed together on lunch breaks and a few hours every couple of Sunday mornings to build Blaine's wardrobe to a "New York fabulous" level. But mainly, Blaine saw Kurt in group gatherings of the glee club, either crowded over too many tables shoved together at Breadstix or in someone's basement or at bonfires in Sebastian's yard, next to the pool. Because Sebastian had a big enough yard for a bonfire and a party and a pool, and a six bedroom house that only two people lived in.

Blaine was starting to understand where Kurt might have been coming from on the dislike front, back in that first year they'd met Sebastian. There was a fine line between "out there" and "ridiculously ostentatious".

Though, if he was going to be honest, he may have been made a little too bitter by the fact that they were once again in Sebastian's back yard, as it now seemed to be the glee club's favourite place to party. (Oh, how quickly they were won over by material luxury and an endless supply of pool time and alcohol.) Not to mention, Kurt was at his new favourite place to party - half way between the fire and the water's edge, not necessarily in the same conversation as Sebastian but always tethered to him. Kurt was happily chattering away to Mercedes and Blaine, and Sebastian was turned almost back-to-back to Kurt to talk with Brody, who was spending two weeks in Lima with Rachel; but their hands were still a tangled mess of long fingers on the grass between them, and occasionally Sebastian would raise his hand long enough to trace up Kurt's forearm and rub a few circles into the crook of Kurt's elbow, then a few more over the inside of his wrist. And Kurt would shiver a little, and, without breaking from whatever conversation he was having, blindly but with unerring accuracy capture Sebastian's hand and bring it back down to the grass, squeezing it tight.

Kurt and Sebastian weren't an overly demonstrative couple - unless someone got them drunk and dancing together - but it was still enough to get through all the ever-growing holes in Blaine's armour.

Santana burst Blaine's reverie by dropping herself abruptly onto the small of his back, taking full advantage of the fact that Blaine was on his stomach. "This dress isn't getting grass stains on it," was all she said when Blaine twisted his neck around to shoot her an incredulous look. Then she turned to Kurt, who had an eyebrow raised at her. "I'm moving to New York," she said.

"That's great," Kurt said dryly. "Thank you for the advanced warning; I'll be sure to bolt the door. But I already knew you were moving to New York."

"I'm also moving to Bushwick. Like, specifically, your place in Bushwick."

Kurt tensed slightly; Sebastian clearly registered the shift, because he glanced towards Santana with mild interest, and his thumb started stroking over the back of Kurt's hand.

"What makes you think that we'd let you into our space? Sorry, Santana, but between me, Rachel and Blaine, we're full."

"Why aren't you moving in with the chipmunk? It's pretty obvious to everyone here that you clearly can't go more than a day without boning each other."

It seemed like the whole group collectively caught their breath, Brody actually peering slightly around Sebastian's shoulder to observe the conversation better, all pretence of conversation between him and Sebastian forgotten. Blaine's chest felt tight, tighter than it should even with Santana sitting on him, like she'd suddenly multiplied. You can't leave me, his mind said. You can't leave me to live in an apartment with Rachel and Brody and Santana on my own.

"That apartment is my home, and you can't drive me out of it," Kurt snapped. "Find somewhere else to live."

Mercedes tried obviously to break the tension by teasingly offering her couch in LA if Santana wanted to, "Move to a city where people actually get famous." Blaine never looked away from Kurt, though. That lovely face was still taut, eyes sharp, and Blaine could almost see the thoughts furiously running through Kurt's mind, though what he was thinking was a mystery.

You can't, please, Blaine mentally pleaded with him. You might not be able to give me much but at least give me this. Blaine wasn't stupid - he knew that none of this was something he had any right to say to Kurt any more. And he wouldn't. He also knew that it would only be a matter of time before Kurt left him in yet another sense; but not just yet, not today. Today he couldn't take another step in letting Kurt go.

Behind Kurt, Brody stood up to find Rachel, and Sebastian turned to wrap both arms around Kurt's waist, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to Kurt's temple before getting up to stride over to the stereo. Please, Blaine thought. I'm still in love with you and every little moment like that stabs at my throat and there are so many more to come. The time alone with you is all that keeps the wounds healing over.

Fingernails gently scratched through the hairs at the back of his neck, and Blaine looked over his shoulder to catch a moment of soft sympathy in Santana's eyes. She squeezed his shoulder, stood from Blaine's back more gracefully than anyone should be able to, especially in a dress that short, and moved closer to the fire.

The party was over, Blaine was not very drunk any more, and he'd somehow lost out on a spot on any of the spare four beds. Lying on the couch, he was supposed to be asleep, but everything still pressed heavily on him and he was thinking himself into circles.

Kurt and Sebastian were in the adjacent kitchen, where Kurt was insisting that they at least clear out all the empty bottles and wipe the counters before they go to bed. Kurt, Blaine knew, was deeply embarrassed whenever the Smythes' cleaner arrived in the morning and had to deal with the aftermath of a New Directions party, while Sebastian showed none of the same concern. This had been confided to Blaine over coffee with an eye roll from Kurt, but Blaine had assumed that Sebastian would get his way most of the time. Who wouldn't cave to the appeal of someone cleaning up all your messes at the end of the day?

Apparently not Kurt, because to Blaine's surprise, the couple stayed in the kitchen where the soft clinking of glass could be heard. Until Sebastian's voice broke back in, tone mild.

"So, even Santana thinks you should be moving in with me."

Kurt sighed. "Sebastian, you know that loft is my home. Plus, it just makes sense for the three NYADA students to be living together."

"I got confirmation that the least on my old apartment has already gone to someone else today. We could pick a new apartment right in the middle of everywhere you want to be, babe."

There was quiet for a moment, the only sounds Blaine could hear as he strained his ears a soft shuffling. Then Kurt murmured, voice lower than before, "We've had this conversation more than once but you're not letting it go. What is this really about?"

"I can't just want to live with my boyfriend?" Sebastian asked, a sarcastic lilt to his tone. Another beat of silence, and then, so low that Blaine barely caught it - "I don't want you to live with Blaine."

Blaine stiffened, going rigid with his face half-pressed into the cushion. He suddenly realised this was probably not a conversation he didn't want to hear, because it was unlikely that he would come out the victor.

But Kurt just laughed lightly, and there was the brief smack of a kiss, before he said, "Your ridiculous jealousy would be much cuter if it hadn't broken us up."

"It's not ridiculous to acknowledge the past you two have!"

"It's ridiculous to keep worrying about it after all the times we've talked about it!"

"I just... I..." Sebastian huffed. It was the most ineloquent Blaine had ever heard him. "I know you love me, and I know I shouldn't be worried. But right now we're in Ohio, and there's not much of real life getting in the way. Even though you've been working I can spend all this time with you because I can be there when you're free." Another pause, and then, "...oh God."

Kurt's laughter was still quiet but pealing. "You've only just realised how whipped you are, haven't you? Being the good boyfriend, spending the summer following me around."

The was the sound of scuffles, and more giggles that eventually devolved into soft kisses. "I think you earned a summer of me following you around," Sebastian eventually muttered.

"It's been nice to get the summer we were planning," Kurt replied. "But finish your point."

"I just know things are going to change when we go back to New York. Neither of us are going to have as much time for each other, and if you're not living with me and you are living with him, plus going to school with him... he still loves you. And he's going to have more time to show you than I will."

"I still love him too," Kurt started, and Blaine's heart leapt into his throat. "You know I always will. But I've told you a thousand times and I'll tell you again every time it's necessary - it doesn't compare. It never will. I didn't know I could love someone this much. I don't think it even was possible until you barged your way into my life."

"Fell," Sebastian corrected flatly. "I fell into your life because I was drunk." And they were giggling at whatever private joke that was and kissing again but Blaine didn't even register any of it, couldn't bring himself to care.

Because he'd known Kurt loved both of them. He believed Kurt when he said he loved Blaine, and Kurt had chosen Sebastian so he hadto love him, too. But Kurt, as aware as he was of how much words can hurt, had never laid it out so plainly. It doesn't compare.

Deep down (and sometimes, on his most shameful nights, not very deep down at all), Blaine had been waiting for a time when Kurt and Sebastian fell apart. Surely if they'd done it once, they would do it again. And so he'd somehow believed that if he just persevered, if he was always there and around for Kurt and continued to be the best friend he could be, that one day he'd have a chance again. Because Kurt still loved him and could be in love with him again.

But Kurt never settled for anything less than the most he could ever get for himself, in any aspect of his life. Sometimes he forgot and lost sight of it for a few moments, usually blinded by concern for another, but it was never for long. And if Kurt had found a bigger love, had figured out a way to love someone better and more, then...

Blaine rolled slightly, fully face down into the cushion now. He hadn't wanted to face it, but he wasn't stupid, and he'd always told Kurt to have courage, so he could be courageous too. He had to let go of Kurt. He didn't know how to - it was as simple as trying to live without light - but at least now he could accept that it was necessary.

He rubbed his face a little into the cushion, and the embroidered fabric, wet with his own tears, grazed against his skin like sandpaper.

Kurt and Sebastian were done in the kitchen now, and one of them treaded carefully up the stairs. Blaine could hear another set of footsteps approaching him, though, and so focussed on keeping his breathing smooth so it didn't betray a hint of his misery. Long, nimble fingers ran over his shoulder, accustomed to a Blaine who had once slept very deeply and had never been disturbed by gentle touches. "Sweet dreams, Blaine," Kurt whispered, and with one last brush of the fingers, he too left in the direction of Sebastian's room.

One day Blaine would be able to love Kurt and not be in love with him. Blaine squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut.

One day. But not today.

II: Kurt - Providence
I can't tell him from me,
It's hard, I know!
I search, I wait.
How?
How will I know if I am there?
And in my place?

It was his second year in New York, and yet Kurt was feeling distinctly more out of place than in his first.

Of course, he knew that ultimately, his place was New York, always New York. His very bones were rooted in the city, more than they had ever been in Lima, while he had still been in Lima. Coming back to it always felt something like falling back into his own body.

Beyond that, though, things weren't the same. He was in the halls of NYADA instead of the cramped offices of Vogue, and he wasn't quite sure if the Bushwick loft could be counted as home any more.

Kurt had started at NYADA with Blaine at his side, determined to make a place in the school for himself as fiercely and quickly as Rachel had done. He'd known it wasn't all going to be easy, not right away - even Rachel had had the demon with abs to contend with, bitchy ballerinas to mock her wardrobe and a roommate from hell - but he'd thought that at least he might have felt a sense that he belonged there. Some kind of sign that he - and Sebastian, to be fair - had made the right choice, and NYADA would be good for him. A couple of months in, however, and nothing was telling him that this was the right path.

There were days where everything was glorious, and he'd find himself in his own or Sebastian's kitchen (usually Sebastian's, since Sebastian surprisingly bitched less than his friends) trilling out everything he'd learned in that day's voice lesson. But there were also days, maybe too many days, where he was stuck over textbooks for his core classes and he couldn't help but think, what on earth am I doing? I could be working at Vogue right now. And the not knowing, not being able to tell if this was the right path, was wearing on him.

It was a day like that when he stepped into the loft to find Santana and Blaine sitting quietly on the sofa together, Blaine's head resting on her shoulder. Kurt had been at Sebastian's until late, both of them stuck studying, but at least able to do it from opposite ends of the couch with their legs slotted together in the middle. It was only the need for more dance clothes that had sent Kurt home at the end of the evening - that, and the mocking eyebrow raises he'd gotten from Rachel and Santana over breakfast when he'd said he'd come home that night. Given the hour he had eventually gotten to Bushwick, though, he wasn't surprised to find Blaine and Santana in their pyjamas, the television nearly muted.

As he greeted them and crossed the space to sit on the sofa too, Santana gently patted Blaine's knee and stood up to leave. She muttered a quick goodnight to Kurt as she passed, and then she disappeared behind the curtain to her "bedroom". Kurt glanced curiously at her back - she was usually awake and doing god-knows-what long after everyone else went to bed - but quickly cast the thought away when he saw Blaine's melancholy expression.

Blaine was another thing causing Kurt to question exactly where his place was. He'd, perhaps naively, expected them to continue on as best friends much as the same as they'd been at Dalton before they'd gotten together. It seemed the longer they were all in New York together, though, the less Blaine needed him. Sometimes, it almost felt like Blaine was becoming him, as strange as that sounded - or filling Kurt's place, at least. He was building the close friendships with Rachel and Santana Kurt expected to have, living in the loft with them, and even taking Kurt's place in their wider social circle.

The other week, they had all gone to Heat - Kurt, Sebastian, Blaine, Charlie and Weston - and Kurt had encouraged Sebastian to dance with Charlie, saying both of them should have some "friends time", expecting that at the very least he'd be able to do the same with Blaine. Blaine, however, had already been talking and laughing with Weston since they'd started the night at Callbacks, and by the time Kurt had tried to start dancing or talking or really doing anything with Blaine, Blaine and Weston had looked too close to be interrupted.

So it didn't really seem as if Blaine needed Kurt any more. A selfish part of him was hurt by it, wanted to pull Blaine closer and stake a claim as best friend, but he knew he didn't really have the right. So when he sat on the couch next to Blaine, who still looked so young and vulnerable stripped down to his pyjamas, he wasn't sure what to expect from the boy. Maybe he should have been expecting what he got, though.

Blaine tucked his knees a little closer to his chest, and said, "Kurt, I don't really know how to start this conversation, so I'm just going to go for it, okay?" And then, at Kurt's nod, he said in a rush, "I agree with Santana; I think you should move in with Sebastian."

Kurt blinked, caught off-guard, and parroted his standard response because his mind was blank. "But this loft is my home."

Blaine's face softened, and the arm pulled across his legs loosened slightly so he could lean a fraction closer to Kurt. "Is it, though? I mean, you keep saying that, but..."

"Of course it is! I mean, you guys are here, all my stuff is here, I've lived here for more than a year now..."

"Kurt, you spend at least half your time at Sebastian's. And when you're not there he's here. If nothing else, don't you guys get tired of shuffling back and forth? Wouldn't it be easier for both of you to just live in the one space?"

Kurt looked down at his hands, not knowing what to say, and grasped at the first thought that floated into his mind. "I don't think Sebastian and I are ready to live together," he said.

Blaine huffed a half-laugh. "Haven't you been listening?" he asked, waving a hand absently through the air. "You already do live together. You just do it in two different apartments." When Kurt didn't reply, Blaine slowly added, speaking to his knees, "And, um. Your doing it in two different apartments might also weird some of your housemates out when it's their ex-boyfriend and the guy who almost blinded him."

"Oh-my-god-Blaine," Kurt gasped, all one word, and buried his face into the back of the sofa. The back of the sofa was a nice place to be. The back of the sofa didn't want to have conversations that were difficult and hurtful and really goddamn embarrassing all at once. He stayed there for a moment, taking the time to collect his thoughts. Eventually, he found the courage to pick up his head and said, "I also don't feel like we've really been very close friends lately. If I move out, it's only going to get worse. And I don't want to leave you here with Rachel and Santana."

Blaine smiled gently at that. "I won't lie, when Santana first suggested you move out, my first thought was pretty much 'you can't leave me, especially not here with them'. I felt like I was almost fighting for every minute of your time. But I know that Sebastian should take up the biggest share of your time, and that's good for you. And while you've been with Sebastian, I've gotten closer to Rachel and Santana, so I'm okay with living with them alone now. Plus," he added with a small, teasing smile, "they might be easier to live with if we had a little more space in here. Like where your room is."

"What about us, though? I don't know if it makes me selfish but I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me, I promise," Blaine replied. A weird moment of half-déjà vu unbalanced Kurt's head - the two of them sitting in Ms Pillsbury's office, roles reversed, senior year - but Blaine's touch to the back of his hand settled it. "The problem right now is whenever we see each other it's in class, or you're with Sebastian, or there are even more people around. I think maybe if you moved in with him, so we have to actively make time to see each other outside of school, it might make the time a little more quality. A little more focussed on each other. It could be a good thing."

Kurt looked up at Blaine, eyes a little watery. "You seem to have everything figured out."

Blaine shuffled close, throwing an arm around Kurt. "One of us always does. It was just finally my turn," he said, squeezing him gently and smiling, before gently pressing his lips to Kurt's temple.

Kurt glanced up at the clock. It was half past eleven - not really too late, if he took a cab. He wrapped Blaine up in a quick hug and then stood up to put his coat back on, making a quick dash into his room to pack his dance bag.

"I think I might go talk to Sebastian," Kurt said, hovering awkwardly between the sofa and the door, "and let you know tomorrow?"

Blaine, still smiling, nodded. "As if there's any doubt about what Sebastian's going to say." He, too, stood up and shuffled to his bed, calling, "Good night, Kurt," softly over his shoulder.

Five minutes out from Sebastian's apartment, Kurt sent him a text message saying, I'm coming back - buzz me up in five minutes?

There was no reply, but the second Kurt pushed Sebastian's apartment number outside the building he was buzzed in, and Sebastian was waiting with the apartment door open as Kurt walked down his corridor.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling Kurt into the apartment, hair beautifully mussed. "Do I need to go eviscerate some PezBerry ass in the morning?"

Kurt shook his head, moving close to Sebastian and tucking his face into his boyfriend's shoulder. "I think I just got kicked out of my own apartment. By Blaine."

Sebastian's hand, which had been sliding up Kurt's back, froze. "The infatuated seal pup kicked you out?" he asked incredulously, stepping back so he could look at Kurt's face. "Damn, babe, we must have been louder than even I thought, and I was out to stake my claim. Or at least, to make sure you made everyone in the apartment know exactly who you belong to."

Kurt slapped at Sebastian's chest. "You're so crude," he said, and went to throw himself dramatically onto Sebastian's couch, as he had done before. At least, he reflected, it was much more comfortable than the one in the loft. Especially since Sebastian wasted no time in crawling on top of Kurt, pinning him down.

"And where exactly does Anderson expect you to live?" Sebastian asked, nuzzling into Kurt's neck and absently kissing at the junction between neck and shoulder.

"I think he expects me to go wherever it is I spend all those nights I'm not in Bushwick."

Sebastian bit gently on Kurt's earlobe. "That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Kurt replied airily. "At least not as long as your offer still stands."

Sebastian lifted his head then, resting his forehead against Kurt's own and keeping it there. With anyone else, the close eye contact would probably have been uncomfortable, but not between them, not any more. "The offer always stands," he said seriously. "As long as you are okay with it. Which you don't entirely seem to be."

And here was one of the million little reasons Kurt loved Sebastian so much - that he knew, and was not afraid to ask. "I just feel so out of place this year," he eventually said. "I was counting on that loft in Bushwick to be one of the places I still fit, as stupid as it sounds."

"This apartment is your place, too," Sebastian replied. "You fit here."

Kurt carded his fingers through Sebastian's hair, mussing it further. "I think I know that. I think maybe I already did, but I was just clinging irrationally. You know me," he said, with a slight twist to his mouth.

Sebastian pushed up slightly so he could rest an elbow next to Kurt's head and slot their hips and legs together a little more snugly. "Should we talk about the NYADA raincloud while we're at it, then?" he asked.

"Do you think I'm irrationally clinging to that dream, too?" Kurt asked quietly.

Sebastian didn't directly reply, but instead returned, "What did I tell you when you were thinking about reapplying?"

"That I'd regret it if I didn't."

"And wouldn't you?"

Kurt closed his eyes, and really thought. "Yes, I would," he said.

"And what else did I tell you?" Sebastian asked.

"That I could try one year at NYADA and keep my options open."

"And since I'm a genius, and was clearly right about all of that, I'm going to share some more of my genius with you," Sebastian teased, prodding at Kurt's chest with a finger. "The year's only two months in. I would say 'irrationally clinging' to the dream would be deciding that you're still unhappy at the end of your trial year and sticking with NYADA. Don't worry so much, babe."

He carefully crawled off Kurt and stood up, reaching down to pull Kurt up with him, too. "Now let's go to bed, because I'm really fucking tired and since you're back here, there's a, like, requisite round two before sleep."

Kurt laughed, and let himself be pulled towards the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, though, quickly looping his arms around Sebastian before he could step away and pulling the taller boy's back against his chest. He nipped playfully at Sebastian's shoulder. "Hey. Thank you. I love you."

Sebastian squeezed the hands over his stomach, briefly lacing their fingers together. "I love you too. Earlier tonight, where did you throw the lube?"

III: Sebastian - The Land Beyond the Front Door
There's a land beyond the front door,
Near where the bike leans
And nobody sees,
It's like a good dream.
In the dark you hold me, and we go slow dancing,
Like we're in a movie,
And nobody knows,
And nobody sees.

Sebastian's life had become one of few words.

His demons and loneliness and conflict had been bitter eloquence, spilling words on waves of emotion, hectic and wild and uncontrollable. They'd swarmed through him, keeping him always on edge, always awake, always aware.

Contentment was quiet. His brain and his spirit only spoke when they needed something. Happiness gave him silence.

Of course there were still words to be had with the world - it needed things from him, and he couldn't stay static in his contentment. He had to keep giving and taking to maintain it. There were words to be learned in his classes, words to pay bills and give directions to a taxi driver. Love wasn't static either, would be terrible if it was static - he and Kurt were ever-growing, and if love was static then they would shed it so quickly like a too-tight skin. The words love needed were talking about their days, or repeated declarations of feeling so that the new parts of each other would know them too. Words laid the scaffolding for each other's growth, guiding it so they grew in same direction like the coaxing of two trees to rise intertwined. But sentiment had never been Sebastian's strong suit. Finding silence had only confirmed to him that sappy words were rarely needed and often disingenuous.

In the end, happiness looked like this:

As he walked down the corridor of his apartment building, the buzz of the world faded away. The last few words of the day blended into the sound of the opening door, lost and unimportant.

Beyond the front door Sebastian could hear Kurt singing softly and absently, the sound of his voice coming but the lyrics muffled. Sebastian stepped in and closed the door behind him, sealing off their space. Enclosed, no place for anyone else.

He didn't get any further into the entranceway before Kurt was there, the boy he'd been wanting all week but had barely seen. Kurt wrapped his arms around Sebastian and kissed his jaw, more softly than the world would believe of them.

And Sebastian kissed Kurt, full but quick, repeated touches as gentle as the shadows, and pulled him in tighter. His thumbs gently stroked the skin at the corners of Kurt's eyes, and felt it crinkle as Kurt smiled.

With a body he loved more than his own against him and the dim light of the entryway keeping them close, there was nothing to be said.