30 days earlier:

"Shut up Finn."

Kurt slammed the door in his step-brother's face and looked gloomily around his new room. It was the very top room in the new house. ‘The skylight room', as Burt had put it, or ‘the dingy old attic' as Kurt had put it. It was big though, he had to admit, and it could be quite stunning if he put some work into it. The old rafters were on show and the walls were curved, leaning into a large window that opened onto the roof. Holding his hands as high as they would go, which turned out to be just a few centimetres above his head, he rested each hand on a rafter. Goosebumps ran up his arms and he shivered, it was quite cold up here really. He looked down at his feet and sighed heavily, the room was nice, but it wasn't his room. If nothing else, the altitude was completely different to his cosy room in the basement, he felt as though he should be gasping for breath in the thinning air. Kurt reached into one of the boxes marked ‘clothes' and pulled out a dressing gown - this room was freezing. Finn was galumphing around the house like a rhinoceros, probably looking for some cheese or raw meat, or whatever cavemen ate these days. God, it really was cold. He put his hand on the radiator. It was on.

"The problem is... your window's open."

Kurt jumped so violently that he hit his knee on the edge of the radiator and banged his head on one of the rafters. He reeled for a moment, attempting to see where the voice had come from while hopping around his room on one foot. The uncontrollable laughter coming from the windowsill echoed around the hollow room, forcing Kurt to stare with deep loathing at the figure that now slid into his room.

"Blaine", the other boy said, holding his hand out.

Kurt simply gawped at the boy who stood opposite him.

"I didn't mean to scare you. Fantastic reaction though. Kudos."

"W-wh-what... how...who...what the hell are you doing in my room?!" Kurt finally managed to blurt out, with a little less control than he was aiming for. "Where did you come from? Are you real?"

Blaine smirked at the dazed look on the other's face. "You know, I think what you should really be doing is ringing the police, or, at least shouting your parents. I mean, I did just break into your house."

"Yeah, I probably should."

"But you're not."

Kurt opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to think of a witty reply. Wait, why was he trying to think of a witty reply? This guy could be a murderer. Or a burglar, or anything...  He looked at the boy that had silently crept into his room. He was reasonably short, with slick, gelled black hair. Although a few curls were escaping at the front. He had thick, dark eyelashes. And eyebrows so triangular it might have been comical if Kurt hadn't just noticed that the boy that had crept into his room wasn't wearing a shirt. Kurt couldn't help but look.

"Are you checking me out Hummel?"

Kurt started again, alarmed. "How do you know my name?"

"Relax Inspector Clouseau; you've got it monogrammed into your dressing gown."

"Oh."

‘Oh?!' that was the best he could do? Oh? He was quicker than this. He could make anyone in New Directions damn near cry with just with a haughty glare, and ‘oh' was what his brain had found. He backtracked; again, witty remarks shouldn't be highest on his list of priorities right now.

"So, can I get a name or am I just going to have to call you K. Hummel? Sounds a bit business-like."

Kurt straightened. "Kurt, my name's Kurt. And, judging by your attire, either Finn has gotten me a male stripper or you really are just an obnoxious jerk."

Blaine bit the side of his lip and his eyes flashed with a wickedness that Kurt couldn't quite figure out. He paced over to Kurt and performed a small circle around him before walking back to the window and pulling himself out. He turned, his lip curled, "I wouldn't knock anyone's fashion sense in that dressing gown, I might just be tempted to invite you on a hunt."

Kurt growled defensively.

 "Until tomorrow Kurt!" The last three words were uncharacteristically cheerful.

"I wouldn't count on it!" Kurt yelled after him.

***

Kurt was attempting to finish his Spanish homework. He didn't much care for Spanish. He didn't much care for Mr. Shue's teaching but that was by-the-by. The real news was that he'd managed to convince Burt to set the television up in his room so he wouldn't miss the documentary on ‘Broadway Stars' that night. Three knocks on his window echoed through his room, clear as a bell. He sighed loud enough so he knew Blaine would hear him.

"I see you left your window open." A quiet voice came from the rooftop.

"I see you learnt how manners work."

"Is that an actual sentence?"

"Shut up."

"Touchy."

"I'll close the window."

"You should. You have no idea who I am."

"You have no idea who I am."

"Touché. Come out?"

Kurt marched over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he found himself face to face and far too close to Blaine. He has gorgeous eyes. The thought flashed through his mind like a lightning bolt, leaving Kurt slightly stunned.

"Are you coming inspector?" Blaine held out his hand to pull Kurt onto the roof. Kurt declined and pushed himself through the window, rather ungracefully.

"For someone so dainty, you could have more poise." Blaine smirked at him.

"Oh, if you make one more remark, I will take you to Isengard personally." Kurt retorted, now fashioning a delicate shade of fuchsia.

Kurt almost thought he saw Blaine look taken aback, as if he was trying to figure out the insult, but he wasn't quite sure. Anything to wipe the stupid smug look off his face. Blaine navigated Kurt to a small blanket underneath the chimneys which was covered in oil stains.

"Do you come up here often then, or is the blanket especially for me?" Kurt remarked, his eyes wandering reproachfully over the chosen seating spot. The other boy laughed at the obvious revulsion on Kurt's face. "Wait here". Leaving Kurt stood awkwardly on the rooftop; he clambered back through his own window. Kurt was surprised by how warm the summer air was, although there was a whisper of rain in the clouds. The view was breath-taking. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was actually in Ohio anymore. It felt as though they'd stepped out onto the roof and accidently found themselves on an entirely different planet. He half expected the TARDIS to appear.

"There you are fussy," the voice from behind snapped Kurt back into the real world. How did Blaine manage to be so quiet? It was unreal, like being on the roof with a cat. The cat-boy was laying a clean, white towel next to the oily blanket. "Well, sit down then!"

***

It was midnight when Kurt finally shut his window and shuffled into bed. Three hours he'd been on the roof with that moron. As he was settling into his temporary mattress fort he could have sworn he could hear a guitar being played from across the roof.

To Rachel: I missed the Broadway Stars show tonight.